"Defying Gravity"

A Romance in Three Parts

Written By: Kaeru Shisho

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story.

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: AU, yaoi, some language

Pairings: 1x2x1, 3x4x3

Summary: A multi part story of romance starting with a turning point vacation, developing throughout a dangerous UC mission, and moving ahead through the unexpected challenges of a summer vacation.

"Part One: It's a Vacation"

I headed to my bathroom, pausing along the way to scratch my stomach through the shirt and drop the crutches by the door. When I looked at the huge bathtub, I knew a long hot soak was called for. My back ached from being crushed on the floor and my ankle was throbbing, though ice packs were what I needed for that. Hot and clean first, ice the ankle second. I took a few minutes to clear out the tangle of hair from the drain—mouse-sized—before cranking up the hot water. I dropped my pants.

"I will help you and I need a bath, too."

"Shit, Heero! Don't sneak up on me like that!" I yanked them back up.

"You usually hear me. I brought this."

"Oh, my conditioner. Thanks."

Now that that alarm was past, I just stared. I forgot to argue about not needing any help. He stood holding a bottle of hair conditioner in one hand and his towel in the other; other than that he was bare-ass naked. Man, he was perfect. Cock straight, growing from a nest of black hair. He could have had scars running from shoulder to hip and I wouldn't have noticed. He was comfortable in his own skin and completely artless as if this were a common duty: assist Duo in bath, nude. An army of OZ machine gun men could have stormed the cabin at the moment and I wouldn't have noticed, or given a flying fuck.

Steam billowed out over the top of the curtain, misting up the mirror. Heero had averted his eyes to the sink. "You use a disposable blade?"

"Uh, yeah. I lose anything else." I folded my shirt and set it aside.

"I shave once a week. Here and here." A finger rubbed his chin and his moustache line.

Why were we talking about this?

"Uh, lucky you. It's a daily thing for me for the past year or so. I hate it, but maintaining a mustache or beard would be worse."

"Hn." Heero moved closer. "All right? Need help removing the brace?"

"Lemme get this straight, um, we're...ah, you want to s-share a bath, right?"

"Yes."

Yeah, just the one word. No elaboration necessary there, Heero, for the poor traumatized Duo.

"Oh, yeah, okay." More than okay. "Ah, I'll get undressed and, yeah, that's good."

Leave me to put it all in words, clarify what's going on, put my feelings on the line, asshole.

Of course, I was leaving him to make the moves, so I guess that made us sorta even. He seated me on the toilet and pulled off my pants the rest of the way, unfastened the Velcro bindings, and set the splint aside.

"Okay?"

NO! You just tore off my pants for the second time in an hour! And your mouth is a dick's-length from my cock!

"Yeah, it hurts, but then I've suffered worse."

"I'll ice it after the bath," he said and reached past me to pull back the curtain and test the temperature. After checking that there was soap in the tray and that the shampoo, conditioner, and razor were in reach on the floor, he stepped in and settled with his back pushed as far into the deep curb of the tub as possible.

"Ready."

When had he decided to do this? My logical mind had shut down hours ago, I think, meaning I was running on instinct alone, and what my instincts were telling me to do was obscene. I wasn't sure if it would do me any good to let my conscience be my guide either. Jiminy Cricket, my childhood icon of scruples, you do me no service.

I gingerly dabbled a toe around while bracing an arm against the wall. "Hot!"

He turned the knob to cool the flow entering the tub. "You set the temperature, Baka. Try it now."

With a roll of my eyes, I said. "I just love it when you speak Japanese," adding in the back of my head: naked in a bathtub looking up at me with that look of, dare I say, expectation?

I think I think more than I actually say, which is a whole hell of a lot. Sometimes I say it aloud, and that's when my mouth gets me in trouble.

I bent over and let his arms support and guide me between his legs in an elaborately awkward move. Once settled, we just lay there like that awhile, feeling the water run over and around us. It was unimaginably cool and hot—both. I never wanted to move again. My heart was pounding like I'd run a footrace, and, to my delight, so was Heero's. We must have run it together. It was really nice to know he was affected by the intimate contact, too.

I could feel him shift beneath me, scooting down to cover his head with water. Hadn't he just showered and done his hair? But then, he had this suicidal tendency. Before I started to fear that he might try drowning himself for fun, he re-emerged. I thought he looked so different, with his hair flattened to his head. I slid my hands through it, angling it backwards, and smiled.

His face drew close with water running down his nose and cheeks. He asked, "Is this what you wanted?"

How had you guessed?

I certainly hadn't imagined this in my craziest dreams, but I hadn't been thinking about sharing a bath moments ago either. Maybe he was asking if this was better than being slammed against walls or crushed on the floor. Who the hell knew what he meant? Well, as they say, it was a good day for dying.

"Yeah!" I told him with an encouraging grin.

I reached for the soap and started rubbing a creamy lather in my hands as if I did this everyday.

"Okay," he smiled in return, eyes closed and calm.

As his arms lifted to push his wet bangs out of his hair, I cleaned his armpits, lightly teasing by pulling the soft dark hairs. He flinched.

"Hey stop that!"

"Ticklish?"

"Hn."

I maneuvered him around and started to rub the soap over his chest, my hands pressing and massaging his skin. Fine black hairs against his golden skin. I rubbed down his ribs and he gasped and cringed.

"Oh, definitely ticklish." I could not stifle my satisfied smirk.

"Yesss," he mock-snarled.

Pushing him back into the water, I rinsed him of the suds I had created. "Turn some."

"You order around all your conquests this way?" he asked.

"All? Ah, yeah, all one of them. What, you think I've done anything like this before?"

Heero nodded slowly, then shook his head, then settled on a non-committal shrug.

"Now who's the idiot?" I said, slapping his shoulder.

He gasped and shut his eyes as the soapy massage commenced. My hands moved over his scarred shoulders, neck, chest and stomach, caressing his skin and rubbing the tension away. His eyes opened and he stared intensely into mine.

"Trying to read my mind?" I asked, tired of the silent glare.

"I have bathed, but not with another person," he said. "You are more out-going, so I assumed, more experienced."

"Nope. Pure as driven snow."

I think he chuckled. I gently circled his chest with light, slippery touches. Up until this point I had avoided anything major; still, just watching his reactions. With his eyes half-closed, lips parted, he was driving me wild.

Then he sent me over the edge.

He sat up, rising out of the water, and crushed his lips onto mine.

What else could I do? I surrendered. Instantly, we were both moaning, mouths pressed together and tongues deep in each other's mouth. I'd never done that, or felt it, but I submitted to Heero's domination of my mouth with no problem. I felt a catch in my breathing and its echo in his. I clutched at his broad shoulders and concentrated all my attention on making the wonderful, wonderful feeling last as long as it possibly could.

It was about then that I knew a dramatic climax was about to overtake me. That in itself was a foregone conclusion, since two guys can't thrust and rub their slippery bodies together like we were doing for long without it resulting in an orgasm.

Okay, I had a sort of epiphany at this point. Sure we were getting off like that, but I knew in doing so we were expressing some important things about our feelings for one another, maybe; at least, I was. Yep, there was a very brief moment of enlightenment before my attention was drawn back to the carnal. Heero's fingers encircled my length; my back arched with the pleasure of it. It was the first time someone else had touched me there, and it was fantastic!

"You like that?"

"YES!" I cried out.

I felt the first wave of my climax hit, my body stiffened with the pulses, hard-pressed against his arm. He knew what was going on, tightening his hold with his other arm and gently kneading the muscles beneath, those hands, calming me, reassuring me without words. I hung on for support as the wave of pleasure washed over me.

"Oh, gods!"

When I could wrench open my eyes, proof of his obvious interest rose indefatigable and ready for action, breaking the surface of the water. He was panting and aroused and burning with desire I wanted desperately to do something about, although I didn't know what.

Then I thought of something.

"Hope you like this. Turn this way so I can wash your other side."

Without hesitation, he turned his broad back of velvety, golden skin. His narrow hips lay across mine as I was twisted awkwardly semi-sideways in the tub; his high round buttocks captured my imagination. Trying to keep my mind on my job, I lathered up my hands and slowly spread it over his shoulder blades, avoiding his hair. Across and down his neck, I continued to massage the large muscle running from his neck to his shoulders and down to the thin waist. Riding my hands over his lateral muscles and inwards I massaged into the depression either side of his spine.

His guttural noises assured me I was on the right track. I soaped up my hands again and worked over his lower back, starting at waist and sliding lower, massaging those hard cheeks of muscle, feeling them flex and move below the tight skin. My hand slipped, the fingers daring to enter the dark crevasse between. His body flexed and pulled away, and I tensed ready to block a punch.

With breeziness I wasn't feeling, I asked, "How can I clean you if you keep moving?"

"I'm not used to this, a-and I've never had anyone clean me there before." His voice sounded unsteady and nervous.

I chuckled. "Well, that's all right then, because I've never done it before either."

He laughed and relaxed against my probing fingers.

Taking it slowly and enjoying it more because of that, I re-soaped my hands and slid them lightly in to the indentation above his tail bone. Half pulling him and half turning him I rubbed one soapy hand across the front of his waist and down.

Heero reached up and held onto the tub edge, while his body tensed, immobile in my arms. Again, I steeled myself for a bad reaction.

"Go on," he murmured.

My hands shook as I began moving lower in a circular motion. His muscles tensed and pushed against my hand. I truly wondered at my boldness. Had it not been the most exciting exploration I'd ever experienced and had his shudders and faint moans of enjoyment not been gaining in intensity, I probably would have finished up my own bath and gotten the hell out of there.

I cleaned each side repeatedly while crossing over that sensitive spot. I never imagined ever touching another person there...not just touching, but caressing! My other hand climbed to hold his erection with the skin slipping and sliding under my lathered hands.

Heero groaned even more, his hips jerking backwards and forwards and his knuckles white on the matching ivory porcelain tub edge. Gods, he felt so incredible and I was touching him! It electrified me.

His gyrating hips and my slick movement resulted in more moans. All the while Heero gripped the edge. I wanted to do that forever to him. It was all about timing and touch—when and where.

His body wanted to go in three directions at once trembling beneath my hands. I had to stop what I was doing to hold him. He groaned even more and whimpered, "I'm...I'm..." with uneven breath, then stopped and all his muscles tightened before white hot liquid erupted at the surface, my hand now jacking him off for all I was worth.

His choked cry surprised me. His hands released the tub edge and his arms nearly crushed the air out of me in a tight hold, embracing me until his breathing softened from the hard gasps. As he relaxed, he locked eyes with me, and that intense blue stare, softened.

I wriggled apart enough to breathe and said, "Ah, sorry I can't clean your legs but I can't get down there with you holding on to me so tightly."

His dark, lust-filled eyes bored into mine. "It wasn't my legs that needed washing. Move. It's your turn."

He mimicked my soaping up procedure with his hands, but applied the suds to my face. He reached over the tub and brought back the razor. I closed my eyes and let him shave me. I don't know if I liked it, trusting him not to slit my throat for having seen him in so vulnerable a state and for having touched him so intimately. Gentle strokes. A firm hand behind my head. The job was done efficiently and without the loss of blood.

"Turn."

I did as ordered, and we rearranged ourselves with me between his legs, back turned. I could feel him messing with what was left of my braid, pulling apart the weave.

"There," he murmured. My mop tumbled down and the long hair spread out in a curtain of brown against my back and into the water.

He pushed me forward, making more room between us, then pulled gently, lowering me backwards into the water. I sank under the water, thoroughly wetting my head, rinsing off, and then he helped me up.

"Tilt your head back," he ordered.

Strong fingers rubbed the soap into my scalp and through the heavy fall of matted hair hanging down past my shoulders. I didn't move. I let him wash and pull at the hair, cleaning it for as long as he wanted. So intimate, relaxing. I was putty in his hands.

He turned on the faucet and waited for the water to run hot.

"Okay. Rinse."

I leaned forward and down, and let him run his fingers through the tangle, rinsing all the soap out. When I sat up, he was ready with globs of conditioner.

"You must use a bottle a week."

"Nearly."

He worked a bit through his hair first, then tirelessly raked it through mine, untangling as he went.

"This is too much trouble. I would cut it off, if it were mine."

"Not me."

We both repeated the rinsing then he slicked my bangs to the side and over my ears, pressing the water out with both hands. Suddenly, the water still streaming out of the faucet changed to freezing cold. Both of us gasped with the shock and I leaned forward and slammed it off.

"Sorry, love, I can't wash you now."

It slipped out of him, passing his unknowing lips. It didn't register in his ears, but mine sure heard it! I felt my heart flutter, my eyes going wide with his words. I had never heard words of endearment meant for my ears alone. I pulled him into my arms, hugging him tight.

"What did I do? I'll make it up to you - I swear!" His voice shook with uncertainty.

"You already have," I murmured.

Then I kissed him deeply with all the passion I had to spare. He returned it with what felt like reluctance then pushed me away.

He said simply, "Getting waterlogged," as an explanation, then stood.

Heero pulled me out of the tub and set about drying me, ignoring the rivulets of water that ran down his body. I tried to return the favor but he refused.

"Forget it! I want to get that splint back on your leg."

After drying me, and strapping on the brace, he wrapped my hair in the big bath towel, the rest of me in a smaller one, and carried me to the couch, while I continued to complain about him getting cold. I didn't want to think about his return to objective-oriented-only activity, as if after he got what his body needed from me, we were back to pals again. Well, at least he hadn't left me in the tub and gone to bed.

"Shut up. Stay there. I'll be back with ice and a blanket."

I did. He did. I know, because I woke up hours later alone on the couch covered with a blanket, my hair a total disaster, and my ankle throbbing, and a bag of ice-turned-water on the floor. I squinted back the light pouring through the picture windows. Quatre hadn't been here to close them last night. He and Trowa and Wufei had gone. Heero and I had had sex together.

Let me reiterate the key point: Heero had sex with me, more than once. Okay, so guys who felt about each other the way we did were gonna die, but they'd sure the hell die with a smile on their faces. In a moment of clarity I counted the times we'd had sex and concluded that the perfect soldier had a perfectly outrageous libido.

I closed my eyes and sighed. I had slept like a log, a warm, inanimate, dead-to-the-world log, coming to life very, very slowly. There was no other sound except for the occasional spark and sputter of a crumbling brother-like log in the fireplace. I basked in the heat and brotherhood radiating from my log family.

"You awake?" Heero's voice sounded close.

"Am now," I said. I could smell bacon and coffee. "You made breakfast?"

"In process."

I could feel him hovering, staring at me. I registered cool air and fought to wake fully. "What? I grow a third leg since last night?"

In the most clinical way possible, he replied, "Your penis is very large."

The covers had slipped off and I was completely naked. I twisted around, found and yanked the blanket off the floor to stupidly cover myself, then sat up on the couch. I said the first thing that came to mind. "Shit! Yeah, well... How many cocks have you seen?"

"As many as you and in the same places... dorm showers, safe houses. I've never had sex with anyone else."

"Oh. Well, like I told you...never been touched. Hard to believe from an orphaned street rat, right?" I was awake now.

He shrugged ambiguously. "Do you need anything to dress your hair?"

"Yeah." And my pants while you're in so accommodating a mood, I nearly added, but didn't. I wanted to talk about the bath and not. I wanted a return to that intimacy and not. I wanted ... maybe a couple of other friends around to take the heat off and share the burden of conversation here.

He left and returned with a brush and band. I was happy to have something with which to occupy my hands.

"Our backgrounds are unusual."

"If you say so," I said, grinning because I knew mine had been but I didn't know much about his. "I can only speak for myself."

The brush actually passed through my hair easily, despite a night being loose and fancy free and looking like a rat's nest. Heero watched my movements intently. I couldn't tell if he wanted to touch my hair or chop it off.

"Understood. I should tell you about my past."

I would have agreed, but he just started in without my prompting him. I kept thinking how strange a way it was to wake up, and how weird it was to be talking like this with Heero. Like, a little sex and he suddenly needed to share life histories.

"When I was a born, I-I had no name. I became Heero Yuy later. For a while, I was raised by an assassin. When he died, Doctor J put me in the Gundam Wing. I fought. We won. I joined the Preventers."

"Heero Yuy: the post-it-note version," I chuckled.

"While you were on assignment this last time, there was a change."

"Yeah?" I dropped the smile and the half-formed braid and gave him my full attention. There was a heavy accent on the last words, pending additional explanation.

"I was standing with Barton and Winner in Chang's office. Barton looked surprised, ill. I asked him if he needed a doctor and he told me no. Something had just clicked on in his head, he said--"

"That happens all the time to the rest of us," I said, interrupting. "Did you tell him that was what thinking felt like?"

The corners of Heero's mouth quivered. "No. Winner was standing nearest and he stopped talking and reached out. I think Winner sensed he was about to fall, but Barton wasn't that ill. Instead, Barton just grabbed him and kissed him."

"For the first time you think?" I asked. "I thought this was their coming out, this vacation, but I guess I missed a lot not hanging out around the shop."

Heero nodded. "Yes, I think so, although, they had gone out together the day before. Possibly not their first...experience, but, still, Winner appeared very...surprised. However, from his reactions I determined that he found Barton's aggression acceptable."

I laughed. "Guess you might say that! So, what was Trowa's explanation? 'I suddenly got the balls to make a move on you?'"

Heero's eyes dilated. "Very close. Barton said it was like a light being switched on in his head. And he said he took my advice and did as his heart told him."

"He said that?"

"Yes," Heero said with the faintest of smiles. "He wanted, needed sex; felt it strongly. Two weeks ago, it happened to Wufei. Wufei came to our office and said he had distracting urges. He misinterpreted my reaction."

"Oh, something funny?"

"He punched me. Trowa pulled him off and he cooled down. He thought I was about to kiss him."

"Oh, wow! I wish I coulda been there to see 'Fei-man's expression. That hair of his, pulled back within an inch of its life, that punishing, arrogant expression turned to one of horror. 'Eeeeuw! Yuy's gone bonkers like Barton and now he's going for my virgin tonsils!'"

Heero looked astonished, but when I laughed, or because I laughed, he saw the humor in my act and chuckled. Hey, with a little encouragement I could go on and on, so I did.

"And then 'Fei declares, 'If you so much as stare at me I'll punch your lights out!' To which Trowa steps in and says. 'He's been staring at you for years and managed to resist your tempting charms so far.' Then Wufei, he pinches his nose, you know that mannerism denoting victimization, and says, 'If you feel humor at my expense will get you both through this terrible adjustment time, then by all means continue—'"

Heero wheezed and coughed, his breath coming in ragged pants, as laughter, real out-of-control laughter shook his world. I laughed along with him.

"You know, most guys talk sports, since we don't have that we gotta ridicule our friend's behavior. It's in the genes, I swear!"

He rolled on the floor, holding his sides. I think he was in pain, but it was a good kind of pain, so I let him be. Eventually, he caught his breath and wiped his eyes.

"Did you watch a video of us?" he asked.

"Nah, I just watch, listen, and learn from the geeks and nerds. So, anyway, did you guys solve the big mystery?"

"Yes. We determined that the Gundam pilot conditioning included hormone controlling drugs, and at the age of eighteen they wore off."

"Makes sense. That's why we stayed so short."

"We think so, and tests on Chang by Doctor Po confirmed a surge in his, ah, hormone production. Since then we have grown and put on muscle weight. Trowa's grown two inches in six months—all of us have, since we are all relatively the same height. It also equipped us with the normal sex drive for men our age. It-it happened to me."

"Oh." I was disappointed to learn that it wasn't just my charm and personality that attracted him to me; it was hormones. Well, that wasn't the case for me. "Ah, no problem there with me. I wanted it since I was ten. And as far as Quatre goes, drugs never affected him in that department either. Just the growth inhibitor." I was glad he didn't ask me how I knew that, either, because I wasn't about to rat on my bud. Quatre had only confided his 'crush' on me a few days ago, but I knew of his others.

"Different treatments," he nodded.

"Well, I guess that answers a question or two, but ah, why'dya pick me? Ah, not that I'm complaining or anything." You did call me 'love' in the throes of your after-sex high.

He reached out with one hand and stroked my hair. "I like you. I study your reactions and learn from you how to feel. This...is incredible. That I can touch this." He gazed, mesmerized by my hair as tendrils slid past his fingers. "And you have a great body."

His eyes swept my torso as if to remind himself how close at hand it was, but I pulled the blanket tighter. I was mad he couldn't say that he gave a damn about me and how I felt. It wasn't as if this was all about him and his drives, or was it? I caught the end of my hair, dragging it all into a ponytail.

"Yeah, well...I like my pencil sharpener at work, too. Good design. What made you think I'd want you any more than Wufei did?"

"Nothing. I was prepared for rejection."

"You didn't think I was a queer or anything?" I divided my hair in back and began intertwining the locks with practiced precision.

"No."

"Not at all? Trowa thinks its a given."

"You touch a lot and the girls at work complained that you didn't date them. No guarantee, but it improved the odds."

"I'm a tactile guy and I didn't have time for dating." I finished the braid off, fixing the band to the tip. "What about you?"

"I enjoyed what you and I did and want to do it some more."

Okay, that was evasive. I couldn't look him in the eye, but I grinned. "You like girls, too?"

He looked thoughtful, as if he had to really study the question first. "I'm not attracted to them." Heero made a face and shrugged. "I am no expert in reading people, but I know several like me. I find them the most annoying."

"Keeping it real, eh?" I chuckled. "So, what next?"

"You tell me about yourself." He settled onto the couch, arms spread over the back, eyes riveted to mine.

"My turn?"

"Yes."

"Okay," I folded my arms behind my head and let out my breath in a long, slow stream. "Wee-ell. I'll keep this short. Just the highlights for now, 'cause I wanna eat, okay? O-kaay, so, my family was a gang of homeless kids, the oldest a boy named Solo. He was my first love, the brotherly sort, and he died before the rest of us were taken into the Maxwell church war orphanage. I was..."

"Eight, approximately," Heero said.

"Yeah. How did you know?"

"The name. My name means 'the one and only.' 'Solo' means the same thing. When he died, I was eight also and I got my name. It was fate."

"You mean, like you and I were destined to meet and... ah... like each other?"

"Yes."

"Well, that blows."

"Why, what do you mean?"

"I'm more of a free will sort of guy, personally. My choice, not some preordained—"

"Shut up, Maxwell," Heero said, and then smiled. "I made that up."

Heero had joked with me!

"Ha! Well, sure...heh, heh... yeah...that's pretty funny. Yeah, a good one, but...ah, still, one thing bothers me, well, more than the hundred thousand other things bugging the shit out of me. How did you know I was eight?"

"You talk in your sleep, Duo. Asleep, awake—you talk more than anyone else I know."

"Well, someone's got to! Left up to you and Trowa...and Wufei, there'd be nothin' more than a bunch of grunts all day long."

And just to set me straight he grunted, "Hn."

"That's enough for now. I wanna eat."

He nodded and led the way into the kitchen, me wrapped in a blanket, and only a blanket, leaning on his arm.

He had composed a thoughtful meal, bit burned, but I ate it all. Afterwards, I offered to clean up, but he shook his head and told me to go get dressed. When I stumped back downstairs again, he was finishing a conversation on his cell phone. I stuffed my hands in my armpits and watched as Heero busied himself with his coat and boots.

"Going someplace?" I asked.

"The chains are in. I will be back shortly."

Before I could ask him how he planned to get to the shop, he dashed upstairs and returned with one set of the cross country skis and poles he'd bought.

"Okay, so we're leaving here today? Ah, well, then I'll do some packing, I guess."

"Check the weather report. If the next storm hits soon, we don't have to."

Then he left. Was I supposed to want to go, or not? His laptop was on the kitchen table, waiting, so I opened it, powered it up, and checked the weather reports. No change. I checked my email. I fought the temptation to break into his files, but decided that if he hadn't bothered to delete his internet history files, then it was an open invitation. I was stunned by the number of gay porn sites he'd visited recently. I followed the links and read.

A log sparked and fell into a heap of coals, the sound interrupting my reading. Snow fell hard out the window. Heero wasn't back, but I knew he would be back. He had traveled through far worse conditions in far worse health to a far less welcoming destination and made it fine.

I returned to my reading. Either Heero was studying gay-sex techniques in detail or he was fascinated by naked men fucking each other or he was trying to figure out if he and I fit the category, or all of the above. As much as my brain repelled, my eyes remained glued to the screen. What seemed disgusting once, on repetition, became interesting, tweaking my curiosity and then desire. I wondered if Heero felt the same way. Would he want me to try that, any of that? He certainly didn't mind my hands on him.

After another half hour, after discovering that Heero had not visited a single hetero-sex site, I drew a few conclusions. Heero was gay. He didn't like girls. He said he liked me. No one else knew this about him, except possibly his partner, Trowa. I wondered if Trowa was also Heero's confidant.

Heero left his laptop here for me to find these sites and make my own decision. I wasn't sure what to think about myself. I was curious about girls, so I entered a few hetero sites and read and watched. I may have spent more time looking at the exposed guys than the girls. I wondered if I might like both. What kind of queer freaky guy did that make me?

Still, if Trowa, Quatre, and Heero could be okay with this, I could, too. Solidarity and all that, you know? And we'd be sharing a house. That would be interesting. No wonder they wanted to! But Wufei... how would he feel if he knew that the four of us were...gay. There, I said I was gay. Damn.

It was snowing hard. I made no attempt to cover my networking tracks, but simply shutdown the computer and stirred up the fire. Come on, Heero. Time to come back.

He was taking an inordinate amount of time.

The Wii was gone.

I picked up a book and stared at the pages.

Heero...

Chapter 7

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