"Thousand words"

Written By: ExecutiveShrimp

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not profit.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: AU, angst, fluff, Lemon, OOC

Pairings: 2x1

Summary: Duo and Heero have to share a dorm room in college and they become best friends. When they discover that neither has time for, nor interest in a girlfriend, they explore a friends with benefits relationship. But sex never remains uncomplicated.

" Thousand words"

Fifteen

He knew what he wanted and he certainly knew that I wasn't going to deny him, but what he didn't know was that matters weren't as clear for me as they were for him. And how could he possible know? I gladly fucked him at every given opportunity; which was nearly daily. Yes, Heero knew what he wanted and he wasn't going to let his shame hold him back anymore. He was bold and demanding and while I loved it, I recognized it still wasn't enough for me. But I was going to take everything he was willing to offer me and not ruin things by voicing the questions that preoccupied me.

As weeks flew by the sex never got dull or boring, it was amazing every single time, especially since there were very few limitations left. The only rule still in place was the no-kissing rule. We did it face to face more often than not and I dared to think it was because he enjoyed it just as much as I did, although he would never be forthcoming in that regard. The first time he rode me was particularly memorable. I lay flat on my back on the coarse carpet of our dorm room and Heero straddled me, enthusiastically moving his body up and down and rolling his hips, his own erection bouncing until he took hold of it to bring himself to completion in time with my orgasm. It was incredible to see him pleasure himself like that on my dick; unashamed and unapologetic.

I couldn't get enough of him, I couldn't stop touching him and I couldn't stop looking at him. It was a thrill knowing that I didn't have to. There was no point in trying otherwise. I could touch him whenever I wanted and have him melt at my touch and I could look at him as long as I wanted, getting nothing more than a half-hearted glare that didn't deter me in the least and probably wasn't even meant to discourage me. At that point I was pretty confident Heero loved the sex as much as I did and he didn't want it to end, but of course he didn't know that it wasn't just sex to me, if he did he might not have been so eager to continue doing it.

The school body quickly forgot about the pictures of Heero's younger self in a dress, but I didn't. I would always remember and it cemented what I already knew, that Heero was the most special friend I had ever had and with my growing feelings for him I had to consider that the term 'friend' didn't fully cover my affections for him anymore. But that was difficult because even if it did turn out I wanted him to be more to me, I had little faith Heero would oblige. It was pretty clear our physical interactions were strictly sexual gratification to him, nothing more and everything else between us was comfortably covered by the umbrella-term 'friendship', as far as he was concerned.

I had to stop thinking about us being more than friends and what that would mean, because it would never happen. Heero wasn't gay, he kept saying as much, who was I to question his self-judgment?

"How does Earth look such a great distance?"

I blinked at the sudden question and my eyes focused on Heero sitting across from me at the large table in the library study room, a bemused expression on his face. "You looked so far away, I figured your mind must have drifted into outer space," He explained.

"I'm right here and I don't plan on going anywhere."

He scoffed at my cheesy retort.

Deciding to be partially honest with him, I said: "I was thinking about last week. When you were on top of me."

He blushed instantly. "Jesus, Duo."

I smirked. "Now you're thinking about it too," I pointed out after a pause, watching his expression as he tried to redirect his attention to his studies.

A grin formed on his lips although he tried to hide it, biting down on his lower lip.

"Do you ever really want to be on top?" I questioned. "Like... Well, you know what I mean."

"Maybe at some point," He replied with a shrug, "But I'm not in any hurry to see things changed." His eyes shone with mischief.

I leaned forward, staring at him hungrily. "Because you love having my cock deep inside you?" I whispered.

His face went red and instead of a clever reply only a pathetic whimper came out of his mouth.

I chuckled and sat back in my chair, toying suggestively with my pencil, paying no more attention to the work in front of me.

"Stop trying to get me horny, I have to finish this." He stubbornly leaned over his work and practically buried his nose in his book to keep him from looking up at me again.

Knowing that he had a presentation the next day that he had to prepare for, I didn't push matters further. I reached under the table and readjusted my half-hard member to make myself more comfortable and continued the sketch I had been working on for the past two hours. I had an appointment at the Columbus College of Art and Design next weekend to follow-up on my application for their summer program. I wanted to add to my recent body of work, to show them I was still passionate about art and that my creativity hadn't been dulled by the years of boring classes and dry, technical study material. Although, in truth, I was having such a hard time creating a drawing I was pleased with I had to admit that years of drawing buildings and focusing more on functionality and cost than any artist should ever bother himself with, I hadn't really developed my skills for organic and dynamic art.

I stared down at the paper, feeling like I had sold my soul.

But who was I kidding? I was never good at 'real art' anyway, not good enough at least, as was made abundantly clear by every art school rejecting my admission.

With an exasperated sigh I closed my sketchbook and starting packing up my things.

Heero looked up at me curiously. "Did you finish? Can I see it?"

"It's just another stupid landscape. It's nothing special," I grumbled in defeat, stuffing things into my bag.

Heero recognized my sour mood but didn't know how to cheer me up, he had tried and failed several times over the past few weeks.

"I shouldn't have applied!" I suddenly berated myself aloud, letting my shoulders slump. "I submitted such infantile work, I bet they're all laughing at me."

"Duo-"

"Don't," I interrupted. "I'm going to go find some of the guys, see if we can get a basketball game going. I'll see you later, okay?" I flung the strap of my bag over my shoulder and walked out of the study room with large strides.

Real life - after college - seemed so unimportant most of the time I was with Heero, but once in a while it got the better of me. A rude awakening, reminding me that all the hardship I've encountered in the past would pale in comparison to what's ahead. There was nothing about my future that excited me, I felt like I would be stepping into a thick mist in which everything was grey and muted and I would be lost in it forever.

Such depressing thoughts might warrant a visit to the guidance counselor's office, but they didn't really like me over there since I slept with the student volunteer and she apparently spread some pretty nasty rumors about me.

I couldn't find anyone to play basketball with me, everyone was either in class or not interested because some of their buddies wouldn't be joining. So, like the secretly pathetic loner that I was, I shot some hoops by myself in the slight drizzle of rain, feeling grossly sorry for myself. The moment I had been working towards for four years was drawing near and all I wanted was to press pause. And I would lying if I claimed that it didn't mostly have to do with Heero.

I loved him ,whether I only loved him as a friend or loved him as something more I was hesitant to decide on, but it was clear that I did love him, in an all-encompassing kind of way. I didn't care about anything or anyone but him. My whole being evolved around him; my thoughts, my feelings. It was a pitiful truth. Pitiful because in a matter of months he would be gone and then what was I supposed to do with myself? Find happiness becoming the architect I never really wanted to be? Find myself a new best friend?

I kept shooting the ball and it kept bouncing off the backboard or rolling off the hoop.

"You can do better than that."

I looked over and saw Obie standing on the other side of the chain link fence surrounding the court. "I'm kind of off my game." I took another shot and it was another miss. It was embarrassing. "Are you done for the day?"

"No, I'm on my way to my last class. And going over to Jenny's parents for dinner," He made a telling face.

I chuckled sympathetically.

"Soo..." He drawled hesitantly and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his coat. "If I tell you I've been worrying about you, you're going to tell me to quit being a baby and that you're totally fine, right?"

I smiled. "Yup."

"Cool. Then I guess I won't say anything."

We stared at each other for a while. "Weren't you headed for class?" I asked bemused.

"You know, last time you were shooting hoops by yourself things had just gone down with Hilde and you never talked to your Chinese friend again."

I dribbled the ball, stalling. "I'm fine, Obie, quit being a baby."

"Right. Okay."

I watched him go, absentmindedly tossing the basketball from one hand to the other and back again. Great, I thought, having another good friend whom I lost contact with mentioned didn't make me feel any better about losing Heero in the near future.

"Fuck this shit." I went back to the dorm building, took a shower and had a pizza delivered and then headed for work. I was displeased to find I had to work alongside my least favorite co-worker, Martin, but at least the dull guy kept to himself, allowing me moments of quiet thoughts in between serving non-alcoholic beverages - it was junior-night and the crowd was under twenty-one. The tips weren't as good when people remained sober as the night dragged on, but I also didn't have to deal with the nuisance of drunk patrons and the freshman girls were cute and all over me and I enjoyed entertaining them, even though I had come to realize I wasn't interested in them the way they probably wanted me to be. I should practically be in the university folder as part of the sightseeing tour with my internationally known family and my locally famous three foot long braid of hair. It was nice to flirt with them, it made the girls giggle so I assumed it pleased them and it made me feel like my old self again, before I had to worry about the downside of graduation and figure out whether or not I had accidentally fallen in love with my male best friend. It took me back to simpler times and that wasn't a bad thing.

When everyone had cleared the bar I told Martin to mop the floor - a kind of meaningless authority I had earned, working at the on-campus bar since my freshman year - and assigned myself to cleaning the glasses and rearranging the bottles of liquor.

There was a knock on the glass door and my co-worker begrudgingly announced we were closed - in a 'fuck off' tone of voice. There was another knock, more persistent this time. I looked up from my task and smiled when I saw Heero glaring at Martin.

The red-headed student looked back at me. "It's your friend..." He stated dumbly.

"I can see that."

"He can't come in here after closing."

Such a stickler for the rules, that's why nobody liked working with Martin. "Don't tell me. Tell him."

He looked at Heero through the glass pane and I was pretty sure I could hear him swallow. Heero's dangerous glare had been unrelenting. "I'm afraid," The part-time bartender admitted.

"Then you'd better let him in here and hurry back to your dorm."

He propped the mop against one of the tables and moved to open the door to let in the late guest. As Heero stepped inside, Martin snuck out and left with quickened pace.

"Run, Forest! Run!" I called after him.

"I hate him," My friend announced, closing the door behind him.

"You hate everyone."

After a thoughtful pause he agreed. He picked up the mop and continued cleaning the floor.

"You're supposed to say I'm the exception."

"Sometimes you are," He shot back with a smirk. "Sometimes not so much."

"Did you only just leave the library?"

"No, I went back to the dorm first, took a shower." He carried the heavy bucket to the bar to dump the water in the sink. He flinched when I surprised him by coming to stand behind him, pressing myself against his back. His gaze darted towards the many windows suspiciously. "Duo... don't."

With a surrendering sigh I detached myself from him, even as I noticed he was pressing back against me, clearly subconsciously enjoying my embrace.

"I told you we have to be more careful, with Nash snooping around the way he is." He reminded me: "You agreed."

"I know, but sometimes it's hard to resist the urge. I didn't just 'take a shower'."

"Excuse me?" He retorted coyly.

"Oh, come on. You took a shower this morning after your run. All you did today was study, why would you take another shower, knowing you'll be running and showering again first thing tomorrow morning?" I challenged, putting my hands on my hips defiantly.

"You don't know me," He argued, but he knew the contrary was true. His slight blush and the fact that he had to look away confirmed I had been right about him taking a shower as an excuse to masturbate.

Satisfied with my victory I finished cleaning up with a smirk while Heero waited, then we went back to our dorm room. Even though it was late and even though I had showered before heading off to work, I meaningfully announced I was going to take a shower and in the stall I did exactly what I knew he was thinking of me doing.

The next day I had lunch by myself in the study room. Heero's presentation was in another faculty building across town and he wouldn't be back until later that afternoon. To fight the boredom I suffered in his absence I gave into an urge that I had been denying since the first time I saw him - lying in the top bunk he had claimed, glaring at me, making me marvel at the exquisite design of his features, like a beautifully composed piece of art - I started to draw him. I had been toting around that sketchpad with little result ever since I finalized my application for the summer program. Only knowing he was far away and I wouldn't be caught by him doing that, allowed me to start sketching his face. It was uncanny how well I knew the intensity of his eyes, the fall of his hair, the symmetry of his nose and even the shape of his lips although I had never been allowed to intimately familiarize myself with them. I didn't even have to close my eyes, I saw him on the page before the shapes were defined by my pencil.

Two hours later I realized I had missed my afternoon lecture on corporate design but staring back at me in shades of grey was my best friend, his expression open and genuine - the way only I had seen it -, a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his lips, his hair a calculated mess. It felt like a relief to have finally drawn him. It had been so easy and effortless, unlike those boring landscapes and still lifes I had been struggling with that took up most pages of the sketchbook.

I packed up my things and headed for the final class of the day. I felt a little embarrassed and vulnerable walking around the school with a drawing of Heero in my bag, it was oddly intimate .

By the time Heero came back late at night, much later than I had expected him to be back, I had completed two more drawings of him, if anything even more intimate and... incriminating. I slammed my sketchbook shut and repositioned myself in a flurry of movement to make it seem like I had been studying, when he stepped into our dorm room unannounced.

"Hey." I cleared my throat and observed innocently: "You're late."

"The professor invited us to join him for dinner and drinks.'

I swiveled around in the desk chair and quirked an eyebrow at him. "The teacher took you out?"

"A whole group of us," He defended, "It's nothing like what you are implying."

I reached out and grabbed his hips, pulling him towards me. "Should I be jealous?"

"Why would you be jealous?" He questioned dumbly.

Because you're mine, I thought possessively.

"Why is your sketchbook on the floor?" He thought to ask and he bent down to pick it up.

In my hurry I must have accidentally pushed it off the desk, I thought, mortified as he held it in his hands. When he started to leaf through it I snatched it from him. "I just got frustrated with it, so I threw it across the room."

"You should be more careful with it, what I saw was really good."

What he didn't saw was better, but regardless, he wouldn't like it. "It's not. It's crap."

He chuckled. "You know, for an upbeat person you are deceptively pessimistic."

I tossed my sketchbook onto the bed. "Care to cheer me up?" He knew exactly what I meant.

Playing hard to get he stepped back and he remarked: "I don't know. I'm really tired."

"It's been two days..." I pointed out in a pathetic whine. It had been the longest we had gone without since I pushed him up against the door over three weeks ago. I couldn't get enough of it and I had grown pretty confident that neither could he.

Without a word he headed for the door and I was worried he was going to walk out the room for whatever reason - I was already racking my brain for what I had said or done wrong to offend him and cause him to walk away -, but a smirk tugged at my lips when I heard the click of the lock and he spun back around.

I gave into the overwhelming satisfaction that I felt and grinned for ear to ear. I watched closely as he stalked back towards me, a pensive look on his face. "Why do you look so serious?"

"I'm thinking."

"About what?"

"About what I want."

"Shouldn't it be about what I want?" I teased. "You are doing this to cheer me up, remember?"

"I'm sure that whatever I decide on, you will be plenty cheery in the end. But if you have any objections, I'll take them under advisement." It appeared he had decided and with a mischievous look he knelt down in front of me and let his hands travel up my thighs before unabashedly placing his right hand over my groin. His left hand pushed up my shirt and he leaned forward to plant a kiss on the exposed skin, just above the hem of my black jeans.

"Hmmm... I have no objections to that, your honor." We had been so caught up in exploring the substantial benefits of anal sex that I hadn't felt his mouth on my dick in a couple of weeks and I hadn't realized how much I had missed his mouth around me until that moment.

"It's been a while..." He noted absentmindedly, his hot breath spreading on my abdomen as he continued to place open-mouthed kisses.

"Yeah..." I moaned needily in return. I shifted slightly to get a little more comfortable, slouching in the seat with my legs spread so he could kneel between them.

Second-guessing himself Heero pulled back and wondered: "Is it weird?"

I reached out and put my hand on the back of his neck, urging him forward again. Thankfully, it took little to persuade him. "No, it's great." I leaned my head back and heaved a relieved and pleasurable sigh when he started to massage me through my jeans. Eager as I was, it didn't take long for my body to respond and for my jeans to be straining around my erection. When all Heero and I were doing was exchanging blowjobs, I wanted nothing more but to fuck him - and I got what I wanted - so I didn't expect to be quite so greedy to have him suck me off again, but I was.

He opened my fly and worked my dick out of my underwear, not bothering to get the clothing out of the way more than he absolutely had to. I stared at him with lust-filled eyes as he paused and seemed to appreciate my manhood.

"Do it," I begged ardently.

He did. And he didn't just give me a blowjob the way I remembered it from before, he worshipped my dick. On top of that it was apparent he was enjoying himself, I tilted my head so I could see him touching himself through his jeans. The fact that he was enjoying it so much easily made it the best blowjob I had ever gotten. "Do you love my cock?" The word 'love' was pretty strong and I regretted it as soon as I said it, but when he made no objections and instead moaned deep in his throat, a shudder rippled through me and goosebumps appeared all over my body.

I stroked my hand through his hair, lovingly as opposed to demandingly or urgently, in spite of what we were doing. As good as it felt I wished I could get him to straighten up and let me kiss him. At that point I was starting to believe in the possibility that his mouth on mine would feel even better than his mouth on my cock.

Torn between wanting to come in his mouth and not wanting this to be over but instead doing more, I decided: "I don't want to come yet."

With a final flick of his tongue along the head of my erection - as if to challenge my decision - he sat back on his haunches. In the meantime he didn't stop rubbing his palm over the bulge between his legs.

I let out a breathy chuckle. I got up and took off my jeans and underwear before sitting down next to him on the floor. I was painfully hard but determined to drive him as wild with pleasure as he had me before this encounter would come to an end. I kissed his neck and nipped at his ear while my hand insistently massaged his thigh. I noticed the wetness of saliva on his chin and swiped my thumb across it to clean him up. Taking hold of his jaw I pulled his face closer to mine, only stopping once our noses bumped into each other. "I hate the no-kissing rule."

He wasn't shocked by my quiet confession. "I know you do."

"Please..." I placed my hand on the front of his jeans, feeling his hard manhood through the fabric and grabbing at the clothed shaft as best I could, as if a little more stimulation would convince him to give into my desire to kiss him. If it was that easy, I knew we would have lip-locked a long time ago.

"No."

"Why not? Weren't you going to cheer me up?"

"We can't kiss, Duo. It's the only way for us to stay in control of this thing. It's our reality check."

I noticed that he didn't say he didn't want to kiss, but I knew better than to point that out to him. It would surely blow up in my face. I titled my head to place a chaste kiss on his cheek and then pushed him down onto the carpet and undressed him, taking off my own shirt as well so we were both fully naked. I lay down between his legs, resting my torso on top of him. While I kissed and nuzzled his neck I jerked him off, Heero responded by making slight thrusts into my hand. His hands roamed over my back and occasionally tugged on my braid, his hot kisses burned on my shoulder. Eventually he wrapped his legs around mine, making it clear to me he wanted me to proceed.

"You have to let go of me so I can get the lube from the closet," I remarked with a chuckle but his legs only gripped me more tightly.

"Can't you just use spit or something?" He didn't want to let go of me.

"I guess. Are you sure?"

He nodded.

Engaging in sex as often as we did at that point I didn't prepare him every time anymore, but since I would be going in without proper lubrication I thought it would be most comfortable not to skip some quick stretching. Devilishly I put my index and middle finger against his lips. "Make these wet for me."

He stared up at me defiantly for a moment before obliging, in the interest of speed, rather than telling me to do it myself. He took the fingers deep into his mouth and sucked on them for a little bit before letting them out with a pop.

Using my slick fingers I quickly got him ready, studying his features as I did. I spit into my hand a couple of times and then rubbed my saliva over my manhood.

The entry was a little more rough than we had gotten used to, but even though there was pain observable on Heero's face, he made no complaints and his moans quickly became favorable when I slowly started to move.

"Does that feel good, baby?" I inquired as I kept the pace agonizingly slow.

The nickname didn't even bother him anymore. In between moans he answered: "Yes."

"Does it still hurt?"

"Not in a bad way."

I groaned and buried my face into the crook of his neck. "You're driving me crazy."

"And what of you? Going maddeningly slow like this?" Heero muttered into my hair. Suddenly he rolled us over with his powerful thighs so I was on my back and he was straddling me. He looked down at me smugly. He took charge as he had been displeased with the rhythm I had set. He enthusiastically moved his hips up and down, moaning freely. He had one hand behind him, splayed on my thigh, with the other he caressed his own chest, focusing on his nipples. Sometimes he would look down at me, his eyes dark with passion.

After a while of simply enjoying the view I sat up, bringing my arms around his waist, kissing and licking his chest as he continued to ride me with fervor. When I wrapped my hand around his erection I felt him tense.

He started: "No, wait-" He tightly wrapped his arms around me and a keening cry erupted out of him.

I felt his warm semen spilling onto my hand. It took me by surprise, I hadn't realized he was so close to climax.

His cheeks were bright red, clearly his premature release embarrassed him.

"It's okay... It's okay..." I couldn't help but chuckle at his pathetic whimper. With my hands on his hips I held him still and I placed soft kisses on his face. Once the intensity of his orgasm had waned I flipped us over again, so he was on his back on the floor and I lay on top of him. I pulled out of him and knelt between his spread legs, maneuvering one to lay the calf over my shoulder. With the hand slick with his come I urgently started jerking myself off. I stared into his clouded eyes as he stared right back and I came swiftly, droplets of the milky-white fluid landed on his tight abdomen and heaving chest.

Spent I collapsed to the floor, next to him. We were both panting harshly and staring up at the ceiling. Minutes past and our breathing had quieted before he spoke.

"Holy cumshot, batman."

I let out a single chuckle. "You always get to come on me, I figured I should get to shoot my load on you for a change."

"And did you like it?"

I turned onto my side to look at him. The drops of my come glistened on his torso and I felt like I had just planted an American flag in the surface of the moon. "Hell yeah."

He snorted at my answer and then sat up with a groan. He reached for a shirt - his or mine I couldn't tell - which he used to clean himself off, before throwing it in my face.

I laughed and whipped him playfully with the fabric and then rubbed myself clean with it as well, smiling up at him mischievously as I recognized it was his shirt. He got up from the floor and I stared shamelessly at his naked body, fascinated by the movement of the strong muscles underneath the smooth, glowing skin. He headed for the closet and I asked: "Going to take another shower?"

"Fuck it," He replied as he stepped into a clean pair of underwear, "I'll shower tomorrow after my run."

I jumped to my feet and came to stand right in front of him. Heero backed up until his back connected with the closet and I loomed over him. I buried my nose in his messy hair and took a deep breath. "You'll smell of sex all night."

"Someone actually told me I smell pretty good after sex," He quipped.

I moaned into his mop of hair. "You do..."

He laughed it off and pushed me away. "Quit joking around, I wasn't lying when I said I was tired." He took my sketchbook off his bed, placing it on the desk almost reverently, then he climbed onto the mattress and wrapped himself in his sheets, settling with his back towards me.

I slumped down in the desk chair where I had been seated when he came home and I thumbed the corner of my sketchbook. With a nervous flutter in my chest I started: "Hey Heero?"

"Hm?"

"Do you have any plans for this weekend?"

He sighed. "Yeah, I'm super busy."

I bit my lip, my heart fell. I had intended to ask him to come with me to my interview for the summer program, I had wanted him to come along since I applied, but I had been too afraid to ask.

He continued matter-of-factly: "I'm going to Columbus this weekend. My friend has some sort of interview or whatever at an art school."

I smiled. "Are you serious?"

"Yes. You're paying though."

I nodded excitedly. "Thanks, Heero."

"It's not a big deal."

It was a big deal to me.

Recognizing that what had been a pretty amazing night was over I dressed myself in appropriate sleepwear and headed for bed as well, flicking off the light after I had climbed into the top bunk.

My nerves grew stronger as the weekend neared. I was a jittery mess at Heero's competitive swim meet on Friday, completely forgetting to cheer even as his opponents were struggling far behind him in his wake on the two longer distances. Luckily Heero never held that kind of stuff against me. He knew I had a lot on my mind - although he didn't even know half of it.

Last minute, Saturday morning, I made arrangements for a cheap hotel room in Columbus, figuring that we wouldn't want to head back the same day considering it was a four hour trip by train. I surfed the web for bus routes to the art institute and nearby restaurants, raising my eyebrow when I came across a few club suggestions, one of them a gay club. It was an entertaining idea but I knew it would be fruitless to push my luck to that extent.

We were at the train station at eight o'clock in the morning, waiting for the train, both of us with a shoulder bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries and of course I had my portfolio and my sketchbook with me. Heero had even gone out for his morning run beforehand, whereas I was having trouble just to keep standing, which was why I quickly squeezed myself into a free spot on one of the benches, sandwiched between a couple of old ladies and a nun. Heero stood before me, smiling at me, his hands casually in his pockets. In my tired state I found myself unable to prevent myself from staring at his crotch. My face was hot and probably beet red as it dawned on me I was entertaining homoerotic fantasies with two grandma's to my right and a nun to my left.

The train arrived and we found a quiet spot in the back, sitting close together in the small second-class seats. Our shoulders, arms and legs rubbed together when the train, at times, swayed from side to side. Heero didn't seem to mind and I sure as hell didn't mind it either.

My hands lay in my lap. My palms were sweaty, I wiped them constantly. Part of me wanted to get out at the next stop and go back, that would certainly be easier. I hadn't put my art on the spot like that since I applied to art schools four years ago and had my hopes and dreams crushed. Would rejection really be any less bad this time around because it was just a summer program? Wouldn't it hurt all the more knowing that after all those years I still wasn't good enough to even get into a summer program?

Heero could probably read the despair in my eyes and see me chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Nervous?"

"Fuck yeah." I snorted. "I feel like I have to pee all the time." My sharp intake of breath was audible as Heero suddenly reached out and grabbed one of my hands that lay splayed on my thigh.

Momentarily he interlocked our fingers. I was embarrassed because he would feel how wet my hands were but he didn't judge me for it. "It's going to be okay."

I didn't think hearing those words would make me feel any better, but to hear him say them was an immediate relief and even though I had no increased confidence in my own artistic success, I believed that whatever would happen, it would be okay. He would be there to pick up the pieces. And that was the difference between now and back then.

He placed my hand back in my lap and turned his head to look out the window, watching the landscape blur as we sped through it.

I stared at him, feeling something warm, light and excited in my chest. A kind of happiness I had never experienced before.

We arrived in Columbus with little time to spare. Rather than trying to make sense of the bus routes and waste time waiting for them I got us a cab to drop off our things in our hotel room and then we took another taxi to the art school campus. I told Heero he could stay behind at the hotel and just relax, but he insisted on joining me.

It was mostly quiet on campus with the exception of a crowd of students that had gathered for a student exposition in the main hall. To kill the final minutes before the interview Heero and I walked from one artwork to the next. The works were nothing like my own; much more free, not bound by rules of logic or any other rules. Disproportionate figures, unnatural colors, dynamic shapes and seemingly meaningless splotches of paint. I loved it, I was in awe of every single piece, but I had never felt smaller than I did at that moment. I felt embarrassed with my sketchbook and portfolio tucked under my arm, knowing my bland work could never compete.

"I don't get it," Heero admitted with a scrunched up face, nodding at an immense painting that - for all intents and purposes - looked like the blobs that float round in lava lamps.

"I'm going to go get some air," I promptly announced and I stalked to the exit. I could hear Heero following me but I didn't slow down, I really was in dire need of some fresh air.

He caught up with me when I stood in the shade of a tree, hunched over, feeling like I was going to puke - part of me being grateful I hadn't been able to stomach any food all day, or surely I would have made a mess. He didn't say anything, but his sheer presence was a comfort.

I took a few deep breaths and then straightened up. "Okay," I croaked, "I'm ready." Still, I didn't make a move.

He smiled sympathetically. "Okay. Okay, let's go." With a hand on my back he guided me back inside and to the students admissions office.

Just as we arrived the door we had been directed to by the receptionist opened and a kind-looking woman appeared. She smiled at the both of us. "Right on time, Duo Maxwell, I presume?"

I reached out my hand and nervously introduced myself.

She stepped aside and gestured for me to enter her office.

I looked over my shoulder at Heero and he mouthed: 'Good luck'.

She closed the door and pointed me to a leather recliner at the desk and she sat down across from me. She flipped open the folder that was in front of her on her desk - my folder, I recognized digital copies of the works I had submitted.

She was a pleasant and easy-going woman who started the conversation with small-talk to help me feel at ease, listening to my irrelevant babbling with half an ear but a kind smile as she flipped through my file. We discussed the work I had submitted and she asked to see my portfolio with the original works. I tried to read her face as she leafed through the pages. She was smiling, but I had figured that had nothing to do with my work, that was just the default setting of her face.

After half an hour she asked the question that I had expected to be asked much sooner.

"Duo, why do you want to be in our summer program?"

I locked my hands between my thighs so I would stop fidgeting and make an overall pathetic impression and answered after a moment's thought: "I love art, I feel like it's the only way for me to be myself and to express myself. I'm not really good with words, so it's hard to explain. I feel like art is the truest representation of myself, unadulterated and raw. I'm better with the pencil than I am with the pen, I want to explore and develop that further, I feel like that's the only way for me to be the person I should be and want to be."

She nodded, but the slight frown was disconcerting. "You say your art is the expression of your true nature, I don't mean to question that, but looking through your portfolio, the impression I get is more technical than expressive. It's all very... restrained and controlled. You draw beautifully, but I feel like the emphasis is on the right kind of shading and the correct proportions and an almost academic approach to composition. Overall, the work lacks fluidity and more importantly; it lacks meaning."

I swallowed. Again, I felt like I was going to vomit. I knew she was right, the work I had sent in would probably make the professors at the architecture faculty very happy, but it wasn't very artistic. It was why I had brought my sketchbook, but in the moment I was afraid to show her such crude work.

"I'm sorry, that must sound very harsh. I see it all the time, prospective students submit very technical work thinking that is what we want to see, but the truth is, we can still improve on technique, that's what many classes are for, but we can't teach you to be artistic and students need to have a rudimentary understanding of themselves and their art for us to build on during the curriculum. That is what I look for." She closed the folder and that felt very definitive. "Can you show me something less calculated, something more spontaneous?" She nodded at the sketchbook at my feet.

I squirmed uncomfortably. After a few pages of landscapes -mostly urban - and anatomical drawings and still lifes was page upon page of Heero. I reached for it slowly, contemplating bolting out the door before I would further humiliate myself, but in the end I placed the book on the desk and watched her pull it towards her.

She leafed through the first pages rather quickly. "Clearly this is your comfort-zone," She remarked, paying little attention to the skylines and perspectives of skyscrapers and landmarks.

I shrugged and tried to joke: "That's what four years of studying architecture does to a person." My throat closed up when she flipped the page and right in front of her was the first sketch I had ever made of Heero - just his face, a shy smile and sympathetic eyes. Very few people knew him like that.

She looked up at me with a bit of a smirk, obviously recognizing the young man she had just seen accompanying me. She continued looking through the book, taking longer to appraise the drawings. Flashes of colored pencil and experiments with watercolor brought later sketches to life.

I was biting on my thumb by the time she reached the image of Heero in a state of undress, his hair feathered out on the barely defined pillow. Heero would kill me if he knew I drew him like that, let alone if he knew some stranger viewed it.

"Should I stop before the work gets more compromising?" He jested lightheartedly.

I shook my head. "That's the worst one."

"Hm." She looked back down and flipped through the final pages. "I actually think it's one of the best ones."

"Uhh..."

"Your drawings of this young man are very good, this one in particular," the book was open on the page of that sensual drawing. "They are honest, more focused on feeling and less focused on technique. You're use of color in these last few is quite... inspired." She thumbed back and forth a few more times, only paying attention to the sketches of my friend, not even bothering with the landscapes. "Are you in love with him?" She inquired neutrally.

"No!" I defended instantly and automatically before even truly considering her question. "He's just my friend, nothing more."

She smiled knowingly. "You're right, your art is the truest representation of yourself. Unadulterated."

I realized she just called me a liar, followed immediately by the startling, life-changing epiphany that she was right.

She closed the book and pushed it back across the desk towards me, unaware of the bomb that just went off in my head. "What I would like to know now is why you decided to study architecture instead of art and why you are now applying for this summer program, after four years."

I didn't intend to sound like a pouty kid, but that's what happened when I replied: "I got turned down by a dozen art school, including this one. I had to find something else."

A deep frown formed on her forehead. She pulled her keyboard towards her and punched in some letters. She stared at the screen pensively for a moment before peeling her eyes away from the data in front of her and announcing to me: "I can't speak for the other eleven, but your application was accepted four years ago and you were invited to a follow-up interview. If you had showed up and told us the same things you have told me now, I'm sure you would have gotten in, according to the notes here the work you submitted was very promising."

I shook my head. "That can't be right..."

"It says so right here. You didn't show up for your interview. It was only based on your absence that your application was denied. We are very strict when it comes to no-shows."

My heart was thundering. "I don't understand. I never received an invitation for an interview."

"You can't blame it on the postal services," She informed me. "We require that recipients sign at the moment of delivery, to avoid claims that they never got their mail. It says here that the invitation was sent and received."

Realized dawned on me, falling on top of me like a ton of bricks. "I don't suppose you can see who signed for it."

She shrugged. "A member of your household, at least."

Tears prickled in the corner of my eyes. "My dad did this." I looked to the side. "Oh my God... I can't believe..." He never wanted me to go to art school, hated the idea of it as soon as I mentioned it, when I was only a young teenager. He wanted me to go to business school and follow in his footsteps but I stubbornly refused and my mother convinced him to give me a chance to get accepted into an art institute. Obviously he had hoped that putting a stop to it would cause me to honor his wishes after all. I had no idea if I got accepted into any of the other schools as well, but maybe I had gotten into some and he made sure it would, somehow, not work out. My father was a determined and disturbingly resourceful man. "Fucking bastard."

"If that is really what happened, than I am very sorry and you obviously have some things to deal with right now." She reached for a form and wrote some things down before signing at the bottom of the page. "It's probably only a small consolation but..." She handed me the piece of paper. "You'd be more than welcome to come back here for the summer program. We will send you more concrete information via email."

"Thank you..." I mumbled in a daze.

We said our goodbyes and I pretty much stumbled out the door. Heero wasn't waiting in the corridor, he was probably off somewhere distracting himself to pass the time, I had been in there for over an hour and the next applicant had been waiting in a seat just outside the door. She looked at my pale face nervously, horror-stories going through the mind probably as she clutched her portfolio to her chest.

Rather than immediately going to find Heero - he couldn't have wandered far - I decided I needed some time to be alone with my thoughts so I followed a hallway deeper into the building and then tried doors until I found one that was unlocked. I stood at the top of a large auditorium, rows upon rows of faded red, collapsible seats facing a large projection screen in the front. I walked about halfway down the steps and then sideways to the center seat of the row. In the large space, in the dim lighting, I felt truly alone and for the time being that was exactly what I needed; it was easiest.

I didn't feel the need to call my father to confront him. I plotted to shock him to the core with my newly discovered deviant sexual orientation next time I saw him and hopefully that would feel like proper revenge. And right after I would tell him I was gay - probably in front of more family members for maximum effect - I'd tell him I might have never found out if he hadn't prevented me from getting into art school, because if I had come to Columbus - or any of the other schools I had applied to - four years ago, I would have never met Heero.

Fuck, I thought... I would have never met Heero.

I sat in silence for a long time until the door in the back, the same door through which I had entered, opened softly and then closed. Quiet footfalls moved down the carpeted steps and I glanced to the side quickly to see Heero standing at the very end of the row of seats, looking at me with a concerned and confused expression. Wordlessly he walked along the row towards me and took a seat next to me. He stared up ahead, probably struggling to find words as he must have thought I was sitting there by myself, sulking, because I had been rejected.

"I've been looking all over for you. I went to get us coffee and I waited by the door for an hour only to see some girl come out." He finally spoke up, a little indignantly. "Do you have any idea how many people I have asked if they saw a guy with a three foot long braid? Do you have any idea how many of them looked at me like I was high?"

"I got in," I interrupted.

Heero fell silent. He stared at me incredulously for a moment before he started excitedly: "Duo, that's great! Congratulations!"

I cocked my head to the side and looked at him with pained eyes. "I got in four years ago as well."

His face fell and the confused frown returned to his forehead. "What?"

"My dad, he... He fucked me over." I chuckled bitterly. "He made sure I missed my interview so I would be rejected. Who knows what lengths he went to to make the other schools reject me too, if more of them initially let me in, that is."

Shock was written all over him. "Duo, that's horrible."

"Is it?" I challenged dryly.

His frown only deepened. "Of course. Jesus, I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," I said with a shrug and then chuckled at myself again.

"... I don't understand..."

"I've been sitting here... thinking. I'm not sorry. I can't even be mad at him. Well, not more so than usual, that is." I smiled sadly at his utterly lost expression. "If he hadn't screwed me over like this, I would have never met you."

He stared into my eyes for a long time, then he sat back with a sigh, gazing up ahead with absent eyes as he considered the gravity of my statement.

I love you, I admitted silently to myself, staring at the profile of his beautiful face. I'm in love with you. I didn't dare to say that, but I did add: "I wouldn't want to go back in time. I wouldn't want things to be different."

He didn't say anything, he seemed overwhelmed but struggled not to let it show.

"I would have never met you," I repeated and fought not to let tears spill.

Heero still didn't respond. I realized I had just dropped a bomb in his lap. He may not even realize the full extent of what I was saying, but he was shocked enough as it was and clearly needed time to process the information. Surely it started to dawn on him in that moment that my feelings for him exceeded a purely platonic friendship and it certainly exceeded merely superficial sexual desire.

I plucked at my trousers, starting to worry that I had said too much - even though there was so much more left to say - and that I had ruined everything. I was about to downplay the meaning of my words, intending to attempt to convince him I was just referring to our friendship after all, but then he heaved a sigh and he twisted his upper body to face me. Expecting him to remind me that we were just friends with benefits and that I shouldn't make the mistake that it was or ever could be more I looked at him apprehensively.

He paused to stare at me. I witnessed the warring of conflicting emotions in his brilliant blue eyes.

He's going to tell me it's over, I feared. He's going to put an end to it to prevent things between us from escalating.

But then, rather than saying anything, he leaned in closer and he didn't stop advancing forward until his nose touched mine and I could feel his warm breath, coming from his parted lips, spreading over my face.

My heart was beating so wildly I was surprised neither of us could hear the muscle pounding against the inside of my ribcage. My heart rate only increased when I felt him slip a hand across my thigh, supporting some of his weight as the closed the distance between us.

Finally, our lips met; his merged softly with mine.

Electricity shot through me, sensitizing every nerve ending in my entire body. My eyes were wide open, his were closed.

After the initial, chaste kiss - barely a kiss, really - he pulled back ever so slightly. He opened his eyes but he would only look at my mouth. He didn't retreat any further, encouraging me to put my warm hand on the back of his neck and urge him to come closer again.

The second time we kissed our lips moved together, slowly and gently. Even without any sensual involvement of our tongues it was the most intimate kiss I had ever received. I closed my eyes in pleasure, breathing a sigh of contentment through my nose. I could feel his bangs blending with my own and the tip of his nose touched my cheek as he held his head tilted while our lips touched. Our open-mouthed kiss grew more intense as we grew more comfortable with the new sensations and the new level of intimacy. In the end I had to admit Heero had been right when he introduced the no-kissing rule, stating that it was too intimate. In a way it was more intimate than sucking his dick or fucking him, it was less about bodily pleasure and more about sincere feelings. I hoped he felt the same way. I hoped he enjoyed it as much as I did.

Suddenly it was over, Heero retreated mere millimeters at first, staring at my face for a moment with clear questions in his eyes before sitting back in his seat, facing forward again. An intense scowl masked his vulnerable and uncertain eyes as he pretended to examine the space of the auditorium.

With a sigh I slumped in my seat. My lips still tingled, my mind was still fuzzy. I brought my hand up and traced my thumb along my lower lip. I could barely believe it had really happened, but the wetness on my bottom lip confirmed he had indeed just suckled on it a moment ago. I looked over at him. He seemed as shocked by his unexpected action as I was. "What does this mean?"

"I thought this was what you wanted."

"It is," Part of it at least. "But what does it mean?"

"It means I wanted to give you what you wanted," He replied meekly, refusing to meet my gaze.

"Thank you," I breathed, staring at him dreamily. "It was wonderful." If anything he had succeeded in making me fall in love with him even more.

We sat in silence for a little while longer, staring up ahead, both of us lost in our own thoughts.

Unannounced Heero promptly got up on his feet and he started walking away.

I sat upright, my chest constricted with worry. Did he regret it? Was he angry now for breaking his own rule?

Already a few steps away from me Heero turned around and extended out his arm, reaching back for me, his hand open. "Let's go get something to eat."

With a smile I jumped to my feet and took hold of his hand and followed him back up the stairs to the exit of the auditorium. Even outside, in the hallway, in plain view of the students that had lingered at the exposition, he continued to hold my hand as he walked side by side, our shoulders bumping into each other.

I was already looking forward to going back to our hotel room later in the evening, hoping this progress meant I would be allowed to kiss him while I fucked him. No, while I made love to him, whether he realized it or not.

I would always remember that day as the day I realized I was in love with Heero and the day I first kissed him, not as the day I found out just how big of a bastard my father really was, stopping at nothing to get me to do his bidding.

Tale as old as time. Boy meets boy. Boy is roommates with boy. Boy hates boy, then boy becomes boy's best friend. Three years later boy has sex with boy and now boy is in love with boy.

I shook my head at myself, chuckling under my breath. I squeezed Heero's hand, causing him to look at me, his expression quizzical upon seeing my silly grin. For the moment I wasn't going to worry about him leaving soon, I intended to make the best of the time we had left together.

Chapter 16

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