"Love Thy Neighbor"

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, citrus

Pairings: 2x1

Summary: Duo's life gets turned upside down when the house next to his is sold. The new neighbor exposes Duo to a lot of new feelings but Duo's strict, religious upbringing makes him resist them. He stubbornly denies that what he is feeling could be love.

"Love Thy Neighbor"

Chapter Five

He paced back and forth in the depths of his house, away from the windows. He wasn't worried about being seen, but about what he might see. The new neighbor was painting the new paneling of the old house. He stood balanced on a ladder propped up against the high walls, in all his half-naked glory. He was all muscular calves, cut-off jeans, golden, gleaming torso, toned arms and strands of chocolate colored hair dancing in the soft breeze.

His eyes had been greedily seeking Heero all day as the young man slowly inched the ladder along the side of the house, systematically painting the paneling a crisp white. Duo moved from window to window, finding excuses to go into different rooms and linger by the window. He knew this curiosity to be dangerous. He knew it to be a symptom of something deep and hidden, something shameful and punishable; a traitorous urge, like the forbidden apple that tempted Eve with its perfect round curves and seductive shade.

He was in serious trouble. He had known it since his dream a few nights ago. He had hoped the thoughts would quietly dissipate if he just fought them vigorously enough, but they only became more overwhelming until all he could do was marvel at the detail with which he could picture Heero's face.

When the young man had taken off his shirt in the steadily rising heat of the afternoon sun, carelessly letting it fall to the grass at the base of the ladder, Duo knew he had to look away, before the sight of his body would become too familiar. He knew it would haunt him in future dreams if he looked.

He promptly sat down in his lounge chair at the other side of the house, as far away from Heero as he physically could be without leaving his home, which, admittedly, wasn't very far at all. Yet Heero was always near, his presence always felt. Heero's magnetism reached across distances and through walls. Even in his current state of distress, he caught his gaze gravitating towards the kitchen window, where he could just see Heero's work boots and slim ankles.

God is testing me, Duo thought bitterly and stubbornly buried himself deeper into the cushions of the chair.

Heero climbed further up the ladder and disappeared out of sight, offering Duo minor but welcome relief.

He suspected God was testing his loyalty to him. He had betrayed him once, long ago. No matter how good he had been behaving for the past two decades, he would never again be worthy of His unconditional trust. He had accepted the fact that he needed to prove himself again and again to make up for the sins he had committed as a youth, a youth who didn't yet have his priorities in order, awarding personal desire a higher ranking than religion and family. He was determined to prove that things were different now, that he had chosen the righteous path and that he could stick to it, ignoring his misleading, corporal desires.

A dream didn't mean anything. A look didn't mean anything. At least, that is what he told himself, firmly and repetitively with new resolve.

If God was testing him, then he'd better show Him that he was up to the challenge and that he wasn't going to cower in a dark corner of his house.

The apple would not tempt him. He may look and his mouth may water at the sight as his imagination run an immoral course, but he would never bite, that is the one thing he could control and control it he would.

He rolled his shoulders and steeled his nerves, overcoming his reluctance to be confronted with the physical perfection that was Heero, considering the way his gaze as well as his thoughts and feelings had been wandering lately, not exactly down the straight and narrow. With newly assumed confidence - most of it an act - he trotted outside, grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge on his way out. The key was to be casual. What's more casual than offering a friend a beer? Heero did it all the time.

Were his hands sweaty or was it just the condensation from the cool glass bottles?

The screen door fell shut in his wake, alerting Heero to his presence.

The young man steadied himself on the ladder and carefully turned his head to look over his shoulder. He smiled when he saw Duo descending the steps of his porch and walking towards the hedge that separated them.

"You're making quite a bit of progress," Duo gestured at the fresh white facade of the house, with the bottles in his hands.

Heero looked back at his work. "Thanks. Is one of those for me?" He coyly inquired.

"Yeah, definitely."

Heero dropped the brush in what sounded like a practically empty metal bucket of paint and stepped down. He placed the bucket with a collection of others - all empty - and then reached out a hand across the hedge to accept the offering. "Thanks," he twisted off the cap and took a big gulp, keeping his sparkling eyes fixed on Duo, with a hint of mischief to them. "This is a first."

Duo shrugged and stuffed one hand into his pocket, bringing the bottle to his lips with the other. Too casual? He wondered. He took his hand out of his pocket and awkwardly adjusted his pose, not knowing where to put his hands or how to position his feet. Heero kept his piercing gaze on him, which wasn't of much help as Duo struggled to appear cool and aloof. He felt a shiver run down his spine, his legs and finish with a tingle in his toes as he remembered his dream; remembering the feeling of Heero slowly dragging his open palm further up his thigh, inching towards...

Duo cleared his throat and took another swig, looking away.

Heero chuckled.

"Something funny?"

Rather than answering, he shot back: "Why do you look so uncomfortable?"

"I don't," Duo vainly, childishly argued.

Heero ignored his obvious lie. "Is it because of what I said the other day? That I think you're gay."

Duo scoffed, but a bead of sweat started to form on his brow. "I don't care what you think. I know it's not true."

"So it really doesn't bother you?"

"Not at all."

"Good," Heero quipped with a smirk, pausing for another drink, "Here I though it was going to cause a problem." He bent forward and picked his white T-shirt up from the grass and effortlessly slipped into it.

"You didn't have to cover up for my sake," Duo asserted, although glad that Heero's narrow waist and defined chest were now out of view.

"I know. I am just getting ready to order dinner."

"Right." He raised his wrist to peer at his watch, a little shocked at the hour that was revealed to him. Had he been fussing and pacing all day? How astonishingly pathetic. It also put into perspective just how obsessive he had inadvertently become, driven by a fear of screwing up all that he has worked devotedly to achieve.

Heero dug his cell phone out of his jeans' pocket and commented with a wry smile: "Is it bad that I know the pizza place's number by heart?"

Duo shrugged. "I suppose not."

He dialed and brought the phone to his ear.

Duo didn't know why he stuck around, he probably should have excused himself and walked away, but it never occurred to him. He stared down into the bottle through the narrow opening, watching the last inch of beer slosh around as he tilted the bottle from side to side, pretending to be occupied and not intently listening to Heero's smooth voice as he place his order.

"Do you want something?" The young man asked him.

He shook his head, not trusting his voice. He felt blood rushing to his cheeks and ears and fingertips when Heero was suddenly looking at him. Even though he had long memorized the fine shapes of Heero's features, the perfection of them still managed to be amazing at times; like rediscovering something beautiful, or reading your favorite book again and being reminded just why you love it so much. He had to admit it was entirely possible that Heero was a tad more tempting than a simple apple and that the comparison may have lost its relevance, but the principle still applied and he still had to resist!

"This is the third time this week," Heero admitted after hanging up the phone and tucking it into the back pocket of his very tight, knee-length jeans.

"Too lazy to cook?"

Heero shook his head. "Can't really cook in that pathetic excuse of a kitchen I currently have. I can only stand so many grilled cheese sandwiches." He rolled his eyes. "Hmm, I'd kill for a home cooked meal."

"You could come over for dinner at my place some time..." His sentence trailed off. What did he just say? He retraced his steps and confirmed his startling suspicion; he just invited Heero over for dinner. Damn his mouth and the disfunctioning filter that separated it from his blabbering brain.

Heero smiled kindly. "Judging from your expression, I think I'd best decline your offer."

He knew he couldn't let him do that, no matter how much he wanted to back-paddle out of the situation he had thrust himself into. His apparent discomfort would only fuel Heero's suspicion that he was secretly attracted to him, but trying to ignore it. "No, no," he started to argue hesitantly, "No, I meant it. Really, you should come over for dinner sometime."

"Really?" The Asian beauty seemed pleasantly surprised.

Asian beauty? Where did that come from? But Duo's belligerent thought-process died down when he noticed Heero's radiant smile and it was just for him. The sensation of being on the receiving end of that smile wasn't unlike basking in the first rays of sunshine after a long and grim winter. He was left in quiet awe.

The smile quirked a little. "You're looking at me like that again," the neighbor noted in a seductively quiet voice.

"Like what?" Duo mumbled absentmindedly, then realization dawned on him, he coughed and tried again with a deeper voice: "Like what? I don't know what you mean."

Heero chuckled. "Never mind. I guess it's not important."

"So, uh, dinner, when- when uh..." Duo struggled to change the topic.

Heero, thankfully, went along with his embarrassing attempt at a segue. "Well, my dinner for tonight is already underway, but otherwise I'm available."

"Okay, then how about tomorrow?" Just to get it over with.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a bother."

"Not at all, I'm not bothered!" Hot and bothered, maybe.

Heero flashed him another modest sample of that striking smile. "Great, tomorrow it is then."

"Great," Duo concurred less than enthusiastically. "See you at seven?"

"Six," Heero confidently counter-offered. "I'll help you prepare dinner."

"Fantastic..." The tall American bit his lips, afraid objections might start spilling from his mouth. He already dreaded tomorrow night, but there was no honor nor redemption in being fearful and hiding. It would be the perfect opportunity to prove to God, as well as to Heero, that these attractions were insignificant and would not be acted on. Maybe, most importantly, he had to convince himself of this.

"I'm going to go shower, get ready for my fancy pizza dinner. I'll see you tomorrow," Heero excused himself with a smirk.

"Yeah, bye." He raised his hand in a halfhearted wave and watched Heero disappear into the old house through the back door. He pretended the onslaught of visuals of Heero under a stream of hot water were of no importance. It didn't necessarily mean he was gay, he just had a lot of pent up sexual energy. He had been so afraid of his feelings - feeling them for guys and not feeling them for women - that he had been avoiding both, most of his adult life. He figured his body craved sexual intimacy so much it was indiscriminate in it's desires and latched onto Heero out of pure convenience.

Duo ran his hand through his hair and pulled his braid over his shoulder, playing with it nervously. "Yeah," he started to nod slowly, "That's all. It doesn't mean I'm gay again, I'm just horny." He frowned at his own conclusion but decided not to reject it as it was the least incriminating of the two possible explanations. However, it didn't offer him much of a solution to his problem. Whereas moral obligations had withheld him from seeking the physical contact of other men, social inadequacy and disinterest in the world is what kept him an all-round recluse all these years. He couldn't just walk into a club and talk a girl up to satisfy his urges, that was as despicable to him as it was impossible for him. He would have to resign to his fate of being horny and unsatisfied.

He grumbled and went back inside, locking the door behind him as if behind a locked door he would somehow be safe and at peace; no longer confused, in pain or weighed down by obligations of Biblical proportions.

With a heavy sigh Duo leaned his forehead against the window pane. His life had been so much easier before the arrival of the new neighbor. Back then he was much more successful in ignoring his inner thoughts and feelings and letting questions dwell without answers, because the answers were hard to come by and even harder to deal with once you had them. With temptation next door the thoughts and feelings kept popping to the surface and with all his might he could not push them back down. In their quantity and persistence the questions themselves have become answers, screaming in his ear, contradicting everything he was taught to see as right and just and worthy of the love and pride of God.

"And now I'm supposed to sit through dinner with him..." He ground out.

Normally he would seek out WuFei in a predicament like that, if not for relief and resolve, then to get distracted by WuFei's patronizing disposition regarding his sexuality and redirecting his anger at him. However, he didn't feel ready to face WuFei quite yet, after discovering the hidden meaning in his book - hidden, apparently, only to him. He felt WuFei had betrayed, even abused his trust.

It was a dark realization; realizing how alone he was. He turned around and looked around the empty house. It was not where he had once expected to be, all alone in a big house, caught in trench-war with his only friend who thinks he is in denial and afraid of the next door neighbor, a mere kid of barely five feet and five inches and less than a hundred and twenty pounds, with big blue eyes and a sweet smile.

It had been a long road to this destination, but only looking back did it become clear to him how much the journey had cost him and how disappointing the destination ended up being. He wasn't living a straight life like he set out to do, all he had was an asexual existence. That didn't make him feel very accomplished.

He thought of his book. His "semi-autographical" literary debut. He didn't know anymore what was truth and what was fiction, what was Jack and what was Duo. The book had turned out to be different than he thought it was and so had his life upon closer inspection. He thought he was happy, like he thought Jack was happy. But now that he had been informed that Jack wasn't happy once he had conformed to the rules of the church, questions about his own happiness were prompted. The answer that felt less contrived and most honest, was a simple but heart wrenching: I am not happy.

He didn't want to sort through his feelings regarding this epiphany, he dreaded even acknowledging their existence, perfectly content settling back into the numbed and detached state that had kept him going all this time.

Something in his mind flicked a switch, he straightened up and threw his long braid over his shoulder. Determinedly he stomped towards the front door, picking up his car keys along the way. He had a dinner party to prepare for. Deciding what to have for dinner was all he could handle at the moment and he gratefully lost himself in the mundane distraction, making it his mission. It was better to focus on the technical aspect of the dinner, than the emotional. To stretch the mental buffer as long as he could he familiarized himself with the produce in the local grocery store and mulled over the abundance of choice.

Somehow, he ended up wanting to summarize the entire chaos in a single course. It had to be easy and casual, but not too easy or too casual to make Heero think he was trying to get him out the door as quickly as possible. It had to be masculine, but not too masculine to make Heero think he was trying too hard. It had to be something he was good at, but not too good to make Heero think he put a disproportionate amount of thought and effort into the meal.

Turned out the store didn't have an aisle of foods to match his preferences, instead he found himself in the Italian section, pasta's and sauces galore.

"Whatever," he finally decided and started loading up on products.

He waited in line at the only open cash register and when it was his turn he bit the inside of his cheek when he saw the familiar face of Amber.

Flirtatious as ever, she purred: "Hello, Duo."

"Hi, Amber," he politely replied, pretending to be focused on finding his ATM card in his wallet, to avoid eye contact.

"Are you planning a romantic dinner for two?" She inquired coyly.

Duo's face went red and hot. "Why? Does this look like a romantic meal?" He worriedly stared at his chosen products as a store employee put them in a white plastic bag, one by one.

"I was just wondering..." She chuckled, "Actually, I was trying to steer the conversation a certain way."

He fidgeted with his plastic ATM card. "What direction is that?"

"I wanted to know if maybe you would like to have a romantic dinner for two with me sometime..." She batted her eyelashes up at him. "I've been hinting so long, but you never made a move. I figured that if I want something - you - I should take the initiative."

The guy holding the plastic bag with Duo's groceries rolled his eyes.

Duo wiped his hand along his denim clad thigh, his suddenly sweaty palms had been making the leather of his wallet damp.

Amber kept her big eyes on him, seemingly completely unaware of how uncomfortable she had made him. In fact, she did nothing to alleviate the discomfort, only adding to it by squeezing her breasts together with her arms - making sure to lean forward so he couldn't miss her impressive cleavage - and pursing her lips in an attempt to be irresistibly seductive.

"I- I-" He could do nothing but stammer and helplessly tried to deflect: "I'd like to pay now."

Amber didn't budge, waiting for an answer.

The man in line behind him sighed dramatically and commented harshly: "Just fucking agree to take her out sometime, so we can all get the fuck out of here. Jesus, are you a goddamned queer or something?"

His remark startled Duo awake. "I'm not a queer," he argued with the stranger.

"I don't care, just hurry up!" The man tapped his watch impatiently.

Realizing everyone, not just Amber, was looking at him expectantly, he felt like he had no choice. He didn't want them to think he was gay, like the man implied. Besides, it would look good to go on a date with a girl, it could serve like armor at dinner tomorrow. He turned back to Amber determinedly. "Amber, I'd love to take you out to dinner sometime."

"Really?" She exclaimed with a radiant smile.

"Yes."

She finally let him pay and when the receipt rolled out she took a pen out of her breast pocket and scribbled down her number. "Would you like your receipt, sir?" She toyed.

"Yes, thank you." He folded it up and put it in his pants' pocket.

"Hmm," Amber appreciated, "We haven't even gone out yet and I have already gotten in your pants."

Duo chuckled sheepishly. "Yeah, right, sure." He thanked the young man who handed him his bag of groceries. "I'll call you."

"Yes you will," she asserted.

Once he had seated himself in the safety of his car, he took a deep breath. He convinced himself that he wasn't misleading or using her. The contrary, he argued, he was giving her a fair chance. She liked him, maybe, after this date, he would like her too. He owed them both the opportunity to find out.

He couldn't get rid of that heavy, sick feeling in his stomach though.

He started up the engine and carefully backed out of his parking space. On the way home he passed WuFei's bookstore. Speeding by he caught a glimpse of his wheelchair bound friend, it didn't appear WuFei had seen him, but he wondered what would have happened if he had. Would his cell phone start ringing and would WuFei demand him to make a U-turn and stop by for his regular visit?

His cell phone never rang.

"He probably just didn't see me," Duo told himself and pulled into his driveway.

The hour was late, it was already dark outside. Inside the old house lights were on all around the first floor.

He remained seated in his car for a while, looking at the house, not able to deny that the soft orange lights in the windows made him feel warm and less lonely. For some reason - he didn't dare to think why - it was good to know someone was there.

Duo's whole body went rigid when Heero appeared in one of the windows at the front of the house, sitting down on the window sill, his legs drawn up. The young man didn't pay any attention to the outside world. Resting on his knees was a book - Duo's book, probably, he realized with a mixture of fear, curiosity and something undefined - his long, slim fingers touched the front cover and might have traced Duo's name or the title, it was hard to tell. He opened the book and started leafing through it, pausing on certain pages to read a selection of passages. Duo wished he knew which parts he was rereading.

His gaze trailed through the yard at the sign, STOP PROP 8. He swallowed a lump in his throat, suspecting Heero would use their dinner to interrogate him about the book. The attractive young man may have a kind, attractive personality to match, Duo found it hard to believe that someone who fought for the rights of gay people would so easily give up and let him be. Not even WuFei could do that and, although liberal, he had never seemed much invested in the plight of the LGBT community. Duo acknowledged, accepted and understood that Heero was likely offended by his choice of lifestyle, after all, this choice was based on loathing and fear of the lifestyle Heero lived by.

He would have liked to be able to be friends with Heero, but he didn't see how that could work out. Heero may not have admitted to it, but Duo felt fairly certain Heero disproved of his way of living as much as he did of Heero's.

Silently and quickly he snuck back into his house, embarrassed at his own antics, but resigning to them. He unpacked his groceries and decided to put an end to a confusing day by going to bed early.

Tomorrow was a big day. A big, uncomfortable, anxious day.

The doorbell rang. Duo checked his watch, he had lost track of time and hurried to the front door to answer it. "Hang on a second!" He called as he opened the dozen locks that locked him inside the house and everyone else outside. Following the click of the final lock he spun the door open, his breath hitched at the vision on his porch.

Heero looked up at him with innocent eyes, his stance was casual, feet at shoulder's width, arms relaxed, hands tucked into the front pockets of his pair of tight, black leather pants. Duo's gaze trailed down the length of his legs, enjoying the way the leather clung to his shapely thighs. He couldn't stop staring.

"Do you like it?" Heero demonstratively spun around, showing off that the pants fit around his ass even more snugly and deliciously.

Once he found his voice, he managed: "Sure. I- uh, I'm not sure if it is the most suitable attire for dinner."

Heero chuckled deeply. "I'm sorry, I don't go to a lot of dinner parties. I usually go to gay clubs, to dance. I never got any complaints about my tight leather pants there." He winked.

Duo cleared his throat and his eyes traveled down Heero's body once more. "I'm not complaining."

Heero batted his eyelashes coyly and took a step forward, into Duo's personal space. "Good. So... what's for dinner?" He reached up and nimble fingers played with the top button of Duo's dress shirt.

"What are you in the mood for?"

He popped open the button and his finger caressed the revealed skin, tracing the hollow of his collarbone. A seductive grin spread across his full lips. "You."

Duo opened his eyes, squinting at the rays of sun peeking through the slit between the drapes, drawing a bright line across his nightstand and the opposite wall of his bedroom. He groaned and rolled onto his back. He took a deep breath and blew his wayward bangs out of his face. After a moment of calm, he groaned again, as he realized a morning erection was pitching a tent under the sheets. He had been foolish to hope that that unsolicited dream had been a one time thing, the fantasy had taken a hold of him, unwanted and even more frustrating in it's persistence. He had to fix it, but he didn't know how, the last time he dreamt of another man like that, the problem had more or less... solved itself. It had scared him so much he never expected to have to deal with these feelings on such a level again. Clearly he had been wrong to think so.

The harsh memories made quick work of his arousal. A sickly feeling crept up on him and settled in his gut.

He kicked the sheets away from him and trotted across the room to where he had disposed of his jeans the day before. He searched the pockets and produced a crumpled up receipt, Amber's phone number scribbled on the back in blue ink.

She's annoying.

You're not attracted to her.

She's too young for you.

Duo shook the thoughts from his head, they were trying to deceive him, serving a different purpose, aiming for a different outcome. It were the same thoughts that whispered niceties about Heero in his ears. Thoughts he had presumed to have gained control over and to have silenced. More and more of the assumptions he had made had been proven wrong since the arrival of the new neighbor, this warranted drastic measures.

His cell phone he found in his other pocket. With clumsy fingers he dialed the number and held the phone to his ear.

"Hi, this is Amber's answering machine, I'm a great listener, you can tell me anything, but if you actually want to talk to Amber, you should also leave your name and number."

He rolled his eyes at her girlish giggle that followed the message and was startled by the shrill BEEP.

Right, he was supposed to say something now.

"Hi!" He blinked at the volume of his own voice. "I mean: hi," he tried in a lower tone, "that's uh... great message you got there... I wanted to call you about that date... but I probably shouldn't set a date with your answering machine, so... yeah... I'll just call you back later. You're probably still asleep, it's early. I don't know why I called so early. I'm really not a morning person. Though I do always get up early. I mean- I mean out of bed, not "up"! So uh... Bye- Oh, this is Duo, by the way! ... From the store? Yeah. Bye." With his entire face red and tingling he hung up the phone, but the damage had already been done. "A message about morning wood, really?" He asked his own reflection in horror. He snorted sarcastically. "Yeah, that's hot."

He threw the damned device of interpersonal humiliation onto the bed and rushed into the adjoining bathroom for a cold shower to cool down his face and his raging nerves.

Daily routine offered him little relief. His morning coffee didn't bring him the same pleasant caffeine high that it usually did and of the three books from his collection he tried to reread to distract himself, none of them could keep his mind from straying. Inadvertently the day ended up being distantly familiar. The closest thing he could relate it to was awaiting high school prom; fussing about how he looked and what he would say to entertain his date. Not because he particularly cared for this girl, but because his parents had made him well aware of the importance of the ritual, to redeem himself.

After spending an hour in front of his closet, scanning his admittedly sizable collection of clothes, he realized the evening did, indeed, feel eerily similar to a date. He promptly chose an unflattering, casual, mismatched outfit: a sweater of undefined color and old cargo pants.

Duo was sitting on the edge of his bed, tying his tennis shoes - the ugliest shoes he had - when his cell phone started to ring, muffled by the layers of sheets it had become buried under. He hurried to answer it in hopes that it was Heero, calling to cancel, of course as soon as his thumb pressed the button with the green phone-icon, he remembered it was likely someone else.

"Hi, Duo! It's Amber."

Speak! "Uh, hi, Amber."

"Sorry it took so long to get back to you, I left my phone at home and had to work all day. You left the most adorable message though," she practically squealed.

He scrunched up his face in disbelief. "I did?"

"Yes. You were so nervous, it was so sweet," she purred.

"Okay..." he drawled in response.

"About that date... I'm free tonight," Amber announced hopefully.

"Oh, I... I actually have plans tonight," he had barely managed to stop himself short from saying: I have a date tonight.

"Too bad. Maybe tomorrow night then?"

He had no other plans - he rarely did - but he contemplated telling her otherwise. Then he heard the voice of that man in the store, resounding in the back of his head: "Just fucking agree to take her out sometime... Jesus, are you a goddamned queer or something?" He shook his head. "No, I'm not," he gritted through his teeth.

"What did you say?"

With wide eyes he struggled for words momentarily, then, rather victoriously he replied: "I'm not... otherwise engaged. Tomorrow is fine- great!" He amended, wanting to seem enthusiastic.

"Great," she concurred slyly. "You can pick me up at eight at the store. I live just around the corner."

Eight? Wasn't he a little too old for dinner at eight? "Perfect, I'll do that. I'm looking forward to it."

"Me too," she breathed. "Bye, Duo, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye." With a sigh he hung up the phone and brought it into his lap. She made no secret of the fact she was into him and he started to doubt his previous presumption that he was being fair by giving her a chance. It didn't feel fair. It didn't feel right. It felt like he was leading her on. After all, he thought it highly unlikely that he would ever have a change of heart regarding her. She had been flirting with him on every level of the spectrum since she started working at the grocery store years ago and there had never been a spark, of any kind. He presumed there had to be some kind of spark between two people. He had never really felt this elusive spark with anyone before, but somehow he fervently believed it was essential to the process. Or maybe he was just making excuses for himself again.

The sudden shriek of the high pitched doorbell traveled through the house, mirroring the shiver that raced through his body.

Duo jumped to his feet and pushed back the sleeve of his hideously colored sweater to look at his watch. "Here we go."

He rushed down the stairs, skipping several steps, but in the hallway he calmed himself and paused. He didn't want to come across as eager. Taking a deep breath he counted to three and then opened the door to welcome his guest.

Much like his dream, the sight before him took his breath away.

Mercifully, Heero wasn't wearing tightly fitting leather pants that hugged his lower body in all the right places - if Duo were to trust his dream, Heero had plenty of "right places" to flaunt. Instead he was equally stunning, if in a more demure manner, in black slacks that made his legs look impossibly long and a midnight blue button-up shirt that drew attention to the unique shade of his exotically slanted eyes.

Don't stare! Duo berated himself. Say something! Words, you remember words, you wrote a book full of them! If possible he made the situation even more excruciatingly embarrassing when his lips let slip: "Wow."

Heero quirked an eyebrow, but his mouth grinned freely. "Wow?"

Duo shook his head. "It's just... I've only ever seen you in old T-shirts and cut-off jeans. This is... different." He looked down at himself, instantly regretting his passive aggressive outfit, for it left him feeling like a perfect idiot. "I feel underdressed."

"You look great," Heero retorted with a sweet smile.

Great, Duo muttered inwardly, now he's smiling at me, this guy doesn't hold back any punches.

The neighbor held up two bottles of wine, red and white. "I didn't know what you were serving, so I didn't know which to bring, but I figured either way would be a welcome change from those cheap beers," he explained.

"I have a feeling we'll be needing both of those," he blurted, desperate for some liquid courage. He stepped aside and gestured for Heero to come inside. When Heero walked past him he caught a whiff of the fresh, vanilla scent of his hair and noted how good he smelled. He recognized he should not be thinking along those lines, he shouldn't have even noticed how Heero smelled. But how do you undo something that has already been done?

"So what did you have planned for dinner?" The young, Japanese man inquired.

"Pasta with spicy shrimp and garlic bread." He chose pasta because it was casual. He chose shrimp because it's more funny than it is sexy. And he chose garlic bread because of garlic breath. It had seemed fool proof to him.

Heero hmm'd.

What that sound did to Duo was decidedly sinful. He asked if he could take the bottles of wine.

"Sure."

"Which one do you want to start with?" Duo asked as he took the bottles from him and walked to the kitchen, followed by his guest.

Heero shrugged. "No preference."

Duo didn't drink much wine - for some reason he could get drunk on it rather quickly - but he preferred red. He figured he might as well enjoy the red first and then the taste of the white wouldn't matter much. With some minor effort he pulled out the cork and poured them both a generous glass. "Here you go." He offered one to Heero.

"Thanks."

At Heero's suggestion they clinked their glasses together in a wordless toast and both took a sip, staring at each other over the edge of their glasses.

"So, delegate me," Heero put his glass on the dinner table and looked up at Duo expectantly, "What can I do to help?"

"Well," Duo looked around his kitchen, for a moment caught of guard, "I make a pretty mean tomato sauce, if I do say so myself, so if you wouldn't mind preparing the shrimp?"

"Not at all. I must warn you though, I'm not much of a gifted chef."

"That's fine, "

While Heero washed his hands Duo gathered the products on the kitchen counter. Heero came to stand beside him and Duo explained: "The shrimp are already cleaned, so all you have to do is put them in a baking dish and toss them with some lime juice, Worcestershire sauce, pepper sauce, oil, Italian seasoning and some black pepper. That is, if you are alright with a spicy meal," he checked.

Heero smirked. "Oh yeah, I can handle hot."

Duo swallowed the excess of saliva that was produced in his mouth and silently fetched him a baking dish from a cabinet.

Heero chuckled softly and set to work.

Duo occupied himself by preheating the oven for the shrimp and garlic bread, preparing the pasta and starting on the tomato sauce. For a moment he was hopeful the kitchen would remain quiet, at least long enough for his anxiety to subside, but Heero offered him little time to take a breather.

He initiated it innocently enough, wondering: "Is this too much?"

Duo glanced over. "No, it's fine. I'll let you know when you are making things too hot- uh, spicy." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

Heero smiled but, mercifully, didn't comment on his Freudian slip. "It already smells delicious," he nodded at the pan in which garlic and shallot sizzled in oil, "I've been craving a home-cooked meal. Thank you so much for inviting me."

"Sure, no problem." He stubbornly focused his gaze on the ingredients in the frying pan.

"Do you cook a lot?" He took two spatulas and absentmindedly started to toss the shrimp through the mixture of spicy ingredients, coating them.

"I used to. Lately, not so much," Duo admitted candidly. "I've been tempted by the ease of microwave meals." He wrought open a jar of tomato sauce and poured it into the pan.

"I understand. Cooking isn't much fun if it's just you."

Curiosity caused him to direct his gaze away from the pan, towards Heero. He noted his expression matched the tone of loneliness in his voice. He could sympathize. "Yeah..."

Done with the shrimp and waiting for the oven to be heated up Heero took the initiative to gently stir the pasta in the boiling water.

"You know, I-" Duo stopped himself, not sure if he should say what he had been thinking, unsure of where it would take the conversation and how it would be interpreted.

"What?"

"No, it's nothing," he tried in vain. He never stood a chance against Heero large, pleading eyes. "I was going to say that I think you are remarkably... mature, especially for your age."

Heero's face split into that striking smile of his. "Really? How so?"

Duo shrugged. "You just have this... calm awareness." He dared to look up at the attractive young man and finished in a quieter, genuine tone: "You know yourself. You see into yourself and make sense of it. I find that pretty extraordinary."

Heero's expression softened. "Thank you."

"It's just the truth." Duo tried to laugh off the unexpected seriousness of the atmosphere.

"Well, if it is, you are the first to say so."

Duo stared at him, transfixed by the look in his eyes and the slight, kindest smile on his lips. "You're welcome."

The smile brightened. Offering much needed lighthearted relief, he teased: "Speaking of maturity, you never told me how old you are." He coyly took a sip of his wine.

Duo chuckled and shook his head. "What about what you said about being allowed to keep secrets?"

"If I guess it and I get it right, will you tell me?" Heero continued.

"If you really want to know you can just Google it. I'm sure there's some info on me from my short-lived glory days as best-selling author."

Ignoring his nonchalant, mildly self-loathing sarcasm, Heero took a shot: "Thirty."

Duo let out a hearty laugh. "You're just saying that because I'm holding a knife," he remarked as he had just started preparing the garlic bread.

"So... no?"

He snorted. "Definitely not."

"If it's any consolation, I really think you look thirty. I had given it quite a bit of thought."

Duo blinked at him in disbelief. "You're serious."

"Yeah."

"Huh..." He couldn't help but grin, self-satisfied. Not bad, old man, he praised himself.

"Considering your amusement, I'm going to say," he paused briefly in thought, "thirty-three?"

"I'm not sure if I find all this incredibly flattering or horribly depressing."

"Thirty-four?"

He didn't answer. The oven beeped and he moved to put in the shrimp and the bread.

"Thirty-five?"

He chuckled and added red and black pepper to the sauce.

"Thirty-six?" Heero's voice got increasingly disbelieving.

"What is this, bingo?"

"Don't tell me your old enough for bingo."

Rumbling laughter erupted out of him, but it died with a pathetic sound at Heero's next, inevitable guess.

"Thirty-seven?"

"Bingo," he eventually admitted.

Heero raised his eyebrows and looked him up and down slowly.

Duo ignored the sinful pleasure he received, Heero's eyes traveling up and down his body. "You're surprised."

"Yes..." Heero concurred. "Though I'm not sure what I am most surprised at. That you look far younger than your age, or that you think you are old, at thirty-seven."

"You don't?"

"No. If you are old, then old men are hot." His eyes widened in shock at his own comment. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean- I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"It's fine, I guess it my turn to say 'thank you'. So, thank you." He smiled down at him to reassure him. Unlike what he had feared and expected, he actually didn't feel significantly uncomfortable. Only hyper aware of how good Heero looked, how amazing he smelled and how nice his voice sounded and how he is not supposed to be aware of any of these things. But he guiltily enjoyed them regardless. With the oven baking the shrimp and the bread and the sauce simmering in the pan and the pasta nearly done, he invited Heero to sit down at the dinner table and poured them both a second glass.

"Need help?" Heero asked as Duo started setting the table.

"Not at all, besides, I know where everything is."

Heero took a generous drink from his wine. The tips of his fingers played with the stem of the glass as his eyes followed Duo's movements through the kitchen.

"Can I confess something to you?" Duo inquired, sitting down at the table across from Heero.

"Of course."

"I was afraid this evening was going to be a disaster."

Heero joked with a chuckle: "Well, the night isn't through yet." After a pause and another sip of wine, he wondered: "Why did you think that?"

"I saw you reading my book again, yesterday evening."

"Spying on me?" The neighbor asked, drawing his index finger along the curved rim of the wineglass.

Yes. "I just saw you, when I pulled into the driveway. I was afraid you were studying, trying to find inconsistencies or points of disagreement. Looking for ammunition." He sat back down and looked down into his glass, listening to the oven humming behind him in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

With his unrivaled, kind smile, Heero informed him with deep, smooth voice: "I was rereading some of my favorite parts."

Duo released a deep breath. "I didn't think you would have favorite parts. The book isn't very accepting of your lifestyle. You must disagree with everything it says."

"I do," Heero was quick to point out, the smile faltering. "The story is hard for me to read, painful, coarse, ruthless." There it was again, that smile, spreading across his lips. "But I told you before, when we had that first beer, I have imagination. I see things. I see beauty in things that are rotten, that would disgust other people. It wasn't all that hard to see the beauty in your book. In it's honesty, in it's heartfelt emotionality, in it's hopefulness, in it's confused but... loving main character..."

Momentarily he was left speechless, staring into Heero's cobalt eyes as he stared back at him. There was something between them. There was a spark.

To make light of the situation Duo snorted and commented: "Are you sure you are twenty-five?"

Heero's smile brightened but there was a sadness in the depth of his eyes, probably at having the subject changed.

Thankfully, the oven beeped, offering Duo a much needed escape. He busied himself with the final preparations of the meal, tossing the pasta through the sauce and putting a generous amount of it in two deep dishes, topping it off with the spicy shrimps. "Here you go," he said, presenting the finished product to Heero.

"Hmmm, it smells delicious."

"Enjoy." He sat back down and unceremoniously started shoveling pasta into his mouth. He hadn't even realized how hungry he had been, after skipping lunch. It also didn't hurt that one could not talk with his mouth full.

Heero laughed at his behavior and then took his first, more modest, bite. "Hmmm..."

He is going to have to stop making that sound, Duo thought to himself.

"It's amazing! You are a great cook!"

Duo denied the slight flush to his cheeks at the compliment. "Give yourself half the credit."

The younger man scoffed. "Tossing shrimp isn't exactly rocket science."

"Neither is putting together a simple sauce, or boiling water for pasta and following the instructions on the packaging," he said, returning a smile. "Garlic bread?"

Heero accepted the piece offered to him. "Yes please."

They ate in silence. To Duo's surprise, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, rather an easy one. It felt like, for the time being, words weren't necessary and in the absence of potentially damaging words, Duo got to enjoy Heero's presence; his company. He toyed with the idea of what it would be like to be Heero's friend and for some inexplicable reason, his smiled. Luckily Heero was too busy enjoying his food to notice.

The exotic man had more outstanding qualities than just his exceptionally good looks. He was incredibly, almost unfathomably kind and obviously intelligent. But what was perhaps most remarkable about the astonishingly young man - considering his emotional maturity - was what he exuded: a sense of ease, a sense of acceptance and a sense of calm. It was nearly therapeutic, just sitting across a table from him.

Heero suddenly looked up, catching Duo's lingering gaze. He didn't say anything, but his eyes sparkled and the corner of his mouth curved in a barely detectable smirk. Then he looked back down at his plate to focus on his last few bites of dinner.

Duo topped of their glasses, finishing the bottle. He drank from his glass like it was water. He hoped the alcohol would have a numbing effect on him, so he wouldn't feel that shiver running down his spine every time Heero's blue eyes settled on him, with that sweet, youthful but also apologetically knowing look of his.

He knows, the American feared. He knows that around him, I'm not feeling as straight as I aimed to be, he told himself inwardly as they started loading the dishes in the dishwasher. He created smoke and mirrors with small-talk regarding the next door renovation, relieved that Heero talked eagerly and enthusiastically, not intent on changing the subject.

Once the task of cleaning up was completed, Heero tentatively spoke up: "So, maybe it's time for me to go home now?" He clearly didn't want to and was hoping Duo would extend an invitation to stay.

He recognized that he probably should have gratefully accepted the easy way out, but as he was about to, he realized he didn't want Heero to leave, as foolish and possibly self-destructive as that would be. He picked up the bottle of white wine his guest had also brought and wondered casually: "Weren't you planning on helping me drink this one? You were the one who once said friendship is about getting fat and drunk together."

Heero chuckled. "Then I'd better practice what I preach."

At Duo's suggestion they headed for the living room.

Duo sat down on his comfortable couch, expecting Heero to take the chair opposite the saloon table like he had the last time - when he had brought over pizza and beer - but this time the young Asian bravely and innocently took a seat on the couch, next to him. He had left an appropriate amount of distance between them, but still Duo had to wonder - whilst swallowing a thick lump in his throat - whether it meant anything. His dream of the other night assaulted him with white hot flashes. He could vividly picture Heero's hand caressing up his thigh. Pathetically nervous he scooted as far away from Heero as he could, which wasn't far, pressing his left hip against the armrest.

He poured the wine anew, praying Heero wouldn't spot the tremble of his hands. "Here you go."

"Thank you."

"I normally don't drink this much," Duo confessed, hoping that if Heero had noticed how jittery he was, he would figure the alcohol was to blame.

"I'm a wealth of bad habits," he replied, putting the glass against his slightly smirking lips.

Amen to that.

"Duo," Heero started, his quiet voice fine as silk.

"Yeah?"

"I really wish not to make your fears come true and have this evening be a disaster, but there is one thing I must ask you."

His heart started to pound. He had a feeling Heero would reignite the topic of his sexuality and he honestly didn't know what he could say to defend his heterosexuality. Sharing the couch with Heero, he didn't feel convincingly hetero. He took a sip of wine in an attempt to ease his nerves.

"If it's okay for me to eat shrimp, why is it not okay for me to eat cock?"

Shocked at the turn of events and the choice of words, he spewed his wine all over himself, the couch and even Heero. His entire face was red with embarrassment. Spontaneous combustion would have been a blessing.

Heero started laughing. A rumbling, infectious laughter that he could not control. "I'm sorry," he said between laughs, "I didn't think you were going to do that!"

It was probably the wine but, regardless, Duo laughed with him and joked along, patting the droplets off the couch: "Good thing it was white wine."

"I'm so sorry!" The younger man repeated, but he kept laughing, struggling to keep the glass in his own hands steady.

Duo was grateful for the humorous moment, but he knew it was unavoidable that once the moment would pass, Heero would rephrase the question, still in search of an answer.

Proving Duo right, after the laughter died out and they had both caught their breath, Heero asked: "Seriously though, doesn't it say in the Bible that eating shellfish is an abomination? The way homosexuality is an abomination?"

He had an answer to the question, because he had asked that same question many times. Unfortunately no matter how often he had been told the answer, he found little solace and reassurance in it. Nonetheless, he told Heero what he had been taught: "Those regulations about what to eat and what to wear are different from the word of God that condemns homosexuality, and all fornication and immorality, as a sin. Those regulations were external means of the flesh to separate God's people from all other people. When Jesus came the people were no longer held to these external laws, instead God's people were to separate themselves by spiritual means."

Heero let the explanation sink in, then pointed out: "That sounded like you were reading it from a book."

Duo sighed. "Not from a book. From memory. I used to ask a lot of questions, when I was younger. Trying to find loopholes in the scripture, to convince myself and others that homosexuality could be accepted, even by God. I came to realize there was no way to change the teachings of God, if I were to live free of sin, I could only change myself. So that's what I did."

"That's what you did..." Heero absentmindedly mirrored. "Do you think I'm an abomination?"

"I'm supposed to..."

"But you don't?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "I try not to think about it that way. I focus on myself. Applying God's teachings on myself. The last time I tried to get someone else to conform to God's word, it didn't go so well..."

Heero straightened his back, slightly leaning in towards Duo, interested by the candid sharing. "Thomas? Was that real?"

The author let out a single, bitter laugh. "Let's just say calling it "semi-autobiographical" was putting it mildly... His real name was Anthony."

Some of the color seemed to drain from Heero's finely sculpted features. "I'm so sorry." He fell silent, if his distant eyes were any indication, he was obviously remembering what he had read about Anthony in the book, all reality, unimaginatively hidden under an alias. "Is everything about the book real?" He tentatively inquired.

"All but the names and the ending. I decided not to include my divorce. I aimed to end it on a positive note, unbeknownst that, according to WuFei, Jack is "dead inside" by the end of the story."

Heero seemed overwhelmed by the revelation that practically everything about the book was reality. "I suspected a lot of it was true, or at least based in reality, but everything? Wow. Thank you."

"For what?"

"For your honesty. I think it is very brave, to let me read it and confide in me that practically all of it really happened to you."

Duo mustered a smile, realizing thanks to Heero that he could be proud of himself. He never thought he would dare to fully open up to anybody aside from WuFei. It was a novel feeling. It was intense and frightening but felt as a relief nevertheless.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

The author shook his head. "Actually, no. I think I've shared enough about myself with you... To be honest, it's kind of weird..." he looked at his neighbor with a slight frown, "You know so much about me, there is no secrecy or privacy left for me. But I know very little about you. It's annoying," he joked, although there was truth in jest.

Heero replied seriously and sincerely: "I think that is fair. If we're being honest, I never told you the entire story of why I started renovating houses. Would you like to know? Quid pro quo?"

He nodded, curious and interested.

Heero took a deep breath and released a nervous scoff. "Better pour me some more wine, I really don't like telling this story without a substantial buzz."

Duo obliged, impatient for the story.

He took a large drink and chuckled breathlessly before he started: "Like I said, I was in business school when my parents had their accident. I was such a fucking geek. Homework was my hobby. The university library was my favorite place in the whole world," he spoke wistfully, but his tone quickly changed.

"In hindsight it was a very childish and secluded existence, a bubble. When my parents died, that bubble burst. They were the only constant positive reinforcement I ever got and when they were gone I realized the world wasn't nearly as accepting as they were and I felt like I was fighting a losing battle. My grades took a nosedive and I was informed I need no longer attend classes and had to vacate my dorm room. With part of my parents inheritance I bought a crappy apartment in the gay bar district. A seedy, disgusting little place. And I wasted a lot of their money on drugs and alcohol and paying to get into the hottest clubs. I had a lot of sex and I couldn't tell you any of their names. Wouldn't even be able to pick out their face in a line-up." Heero looked up at Duo for the first time since the story took a turn. He must have expected judgment, condemnation, but Duo refrained from those.

In truth he experienced a sense of thrill, finally getting to know something truly intimate about Heero's life. The only other person in the world Duo had ever had completely honest conversations with was WuFei. However, as precious as his Chinese friend was to him, Duo didn't realize until just then, with Heero looking at him with uncertainty in his eyes, that he needed more than a single, well-meaning, stubborn friend.

When Heero was confidant Duo wouldn't berate him for former mistakes, he continued, with less of a hesitant tremble to his voice: "I didn't care. I didn't care that they didn't love me and that I didn't love them. I was already deemed a sickening, sinful faggot, I figured I might as well live up to expectations." His voice lacked the resentment at the common, degrading perspective on homosexuals that Duo had expected. There was that calm again. That acceptance. For the first time it dawned on the American how horrible it was for a young man like Heero to be so used to other people's prejudice that he had become used to it, desensitized by it.

"So what turned it around?" Duo encouraged, intrigued by the story.

Heero first finished his glass of wine and leaned forward to place it on the coffee table. With his hands free, his fingers started to fidget with the hem of his midnight blue shirt. "Being scared shitless," he admitted with a bitter chuckle, "An HIV scare."

Duo's body tensed up, he prayed Heero hadn't noticed, he didn't want his involuntarily physical reactions to add to the younger man's discomfort.

"I wasn't always as safe as I shouldn't been. As my parents made me promise I would be. Being told by a recent fuck," he made a face at his own crude terminology and apologized for it, then amended: "Being told by a recent one-night-stand that I should get tested jostled me awake. It made me realize how much I was disappointing my parents. They had always supported me, accepted me and I honored their memory by throwing away my life?" His shook at his own past behavior. "I was shocked at myself. I didn't recognize myself. If you had seen me then, you wouldn't have commended me for my maturity."

Duo waited patiently as Heero paused to take a few deep breaths. In between them he stated with a crooked smile: "It's harder than I thought."

"What is?"

"To tell you this."

The American didn't say anything. He didn't want Heero to feel forced to continue the story if he wasn't comfortable telling it. Even though he was dying to know the continuation of it.

"I had to wait three months to get tested. Three fucking months. That's how long it takes for the telltale HIV antibodies to develop and reach a detectable level. I had to keep myself busy, to prevent insanity. At that time my disgusting apartment became a representation of me. I became obsessed with the need to fix it, hoping that, somehow, it would reflect on me and my test would come back negative." He snorted. "Anyway, I stripped the entire place and started rebuilding it. Plastering, painting, putting together an IKEA kitchen... It drove me stir crazy but I was determined. If that place could be made worthy of a second chance, than I figured so could I."

An understanding dawned on Duo. It explained something that he previously had a hard time understanding; why a recently orphaned twenty-year-old business school drop-out would chose a nomadic life of remodeling houses.

"The three months passed. The apartment looked perfect and it was time for my test." Heero paused.

Duo noticed his breath hitched in anticipation. He was reminded of some of his favorite books. The suspense, the sympathy. It was novel that something real-life gripped him as much as those fictional stories did. Normally he was numb to such sensations by complete and utter disinterest. But for some reason Heero was interesting. Heero mattered. More than any of his favorite protagonists.

"It was negative."

Unconsciously he released a sigh of relief. He would have hated for Heero to be permanently punished for a momentary lapse of reason. Duo believed in second chances, he didn't like the thought of God as a ruthless, uncompromising punisher; a bully. In spite of the fact that he was taught differently by his parents and his childhood priest, who pointed out to him the words in the Bible that read: "If there is a man who lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed a detestable act; they shall surely be put to death".

He didn't know much of HIV, or AIDS, though the words always summoned a relation to homosexuality, but he knew he always felt sick when there was another protest on the news and people held up signs that said: THANK GOD FOR AIDS.

"I was clean," the Japanese man continued and a genuine smile appeared on his face, contradicted by the sadness in his cobalt eyes. "Of course I was happy, but the happiness was quickly replaced by a sense of lack of purpose. I couldn't go back to school, I didn't want to. Like the apartment I had been stripped of my old interior. The structure was still the same, but the inside was different. It was another desperate time of not knowing who I was and what I was going to do with my life. Then my neighbor saw what I had done to the place and he had his sister, a realtor, contact me. She convinced me to put the apartment on the market and in no time I was made an offer I couldn't refuse. It covered the entire cost of the renovation and then some." His lips formed a cheeky grin. "And... well... there you have it. That is how it started. I used the money from the sale and the last of my inheritance to buy another fix-me-upper and that is what I have been doing ever since."

"Giving hopeless cases a second chance..." Duo concluded.

"Yeah."

"Thank you for telling me. We're still not even," he joked, to lighten the atmosphere, "But thank you."

Heero laughed. "You're welcome. I know it's not much and I know it's not a bestseller, but... it hasn't been translated into seven languages. I haven't told many people of that time in my life. It's hard to admit that you have failed..."

Duo looked away.

"... even if you have since scrambled back on your feet. So I hope that you know that it is a pretty big deal for me that you know."

Duo nodded, grateful and honored.

Another one of those amazing smiles was presented to him, making his skin shiver but his heart feel warmed.

He shook his head to break the spell. "Let's drink to that," was the suggestion he made to fill the silence and emptied the bottle of wine evenly between their two glasses, handing Heero his.

They made another wordless toast and each hid their own expression behind his glass.

"How is the renovation going?"

The neighbor laughed at the shameless change of topic, but answered regardless. "It's going very well. I'm nearly done with the outside of the house, except for the front porch. In a couple of weeks a friend is coming over to help me build a new one. Before then I plan to have the garden stripped of those gnarly trees and do some landscaping. Then I start work on the interior. If I work fast enough he is going to help me with the floors as well."

"A friend?"

"Yes."

"That sounds nice."

Heero chuckled. "You sound so surprised. I do have friends, you know? I am actually quite a likable person."

"I know," Duo blurted, biting his lower lip at his outburst.

Heero blessedly ignored the awkward confession, but the light in his eyes assured Duo had he had heard him and that he had enjoyed it. "If you want, you could meet him."

"Who?"

A quiet, breathless laugh. "My friend."

He nodded. "I'd like that."

"When I have a fully operational kitchen I plan to invite all my friends over for dinner. I know it's a long way into the future, but if you want, I would really like for you to be there, meet them all."

The prospect was nerve-wracking to Duo. He didn't exactly excel in social situations. He was always awkward and forced, could never refrain from saying things he wasn't supposed to; from saying too much. He was already pressured by the need to make a good impression, that same pressure that would have him fail, in spite of all his good intentions. Still, he accepted the invitation. He would cross that bridge when he would get to it.

The last of the wine was finished.

The younger man put away his glass on the coffee table, then sat back against the soft cushions. He rested his hand on the seat between them, only a few inches away from Duo's thigh. He studied the American's face. The hand moved, it reached towards him. Duo was frozen; fear or anticipation, he couldn't tell, but his heart was pounding. Heero grabbed the tied end of Duo's braid and stroked the feathered tip with his thumb. With he frown he questioned: "Why do you keep your hair so long? It was never explained in the book."

"That is because Jack doesn't have long hair, so it is not part of the story."

Heero smiled. "You aren't going to tell me. Are you?"

Duo grinned. "I think you've learned enough about me already. So, no."

His expression was one of disappointment as well as understanding.

"Not yet, anyway."

The magical smile returned.

Duo took the tip from Heero's hand, their fingers brushing. As he did so, lightening struck him; God smiting him for his insubordination as a flash of his dream returned to him, the first dream. Visions of Heero's hands splayed on his thigh and his lips tantalizingly close. He blinked and it was all gone. He had mixed feelings about that, to his dismay. He threw his braid over his shoulder, out of sight.

Heero retreated his hand, placed it in his own lap, alongside his other.

It would be foolish to think Heero hadn't noticed Duo's internal reaction to his touch. Wondering what the young man was thinking, drove him crazy. In his disarray, he stated with misplaced pride: "I have a date tomorrow."

For a moment the only reaction was a single twitch of Heero's brows: the start and immediately subsequent suppression of a frown.

Duo noted there was a quiver in his own breath every time he exhaled. He was nervous and anxious. He didn't fully understand why, but suspected it had something to do with the expression on Heero's face. Blank. Like his smile had never existed. Duo worried what it meant, that his remark could make that smile disappear. He worried not because of what he thought it meant. He worried because he liked what it could possibly mean. That Heero's interest in him wasn't as platonic as he dutifully presented it to be.

"That's great," he eventually commented.

"Yeah."

"Who is it?"

Duo frowned, not sure if it was any of Heero's business, but he answered because he wanted to boast. "I don't think you know her, but she is a cashier at a local grocery store."

"The Whole Foods Market on Bridgeton road?"

"Uh... yeah."

"I shop there too. Closest organic grocery store. I'm guessing then that the cashier you are referring to is Amber?"

Duo blinked, perplexed. "How did you know?"

He smirked in response, "Clearly you only pay attention to her when go to check out. The only other cashiers I have seen are nearing their sixties. Or are male."

In all honesty, he never used to pay attention to any of them, it just so happened that Amber always persistently paid attention to him. "Oh."

"She's very friendly. I make small talk with her whenever I'm there. I can see why you would date her. She is very pretty too."

There was no resentment in Heero's tone. Why did that disappoint him?

"I'm jealous of her."

Duo's face went red. "Wha- why?"

"She gets to enjoy your cooking," was the innocent answer.

"I'm not cooking her dinner. I'm taking her out to a nice restaurant. That's what you do on a date."

"Of course," the Japanese man agreed mysteriously. "I should probably head home."

"Yeah."

Heero rose from the couch, followed by Duo, and offered him a formal handshake. "Thank you for dinner."

"You're welcome. I'll walk you out." He guided his guest back to the front door and held it open for him. As Heero walked past him and stepped onto the porch, he realized what Heero had been getting at before. The evening had felt a lot like a date. Deviously, Duo's mind supplied that it felt out of place not to kiss him goodnight. His mind was corrupting his heart, he recognized and determinedly ignored it's unhelpful suggestions.

He was not gay! He had chosen not to be! Still, those lips... he thought as Heero turned around to face him.

"So, tell me," the young man started, "was this night as disastrous as you had initially feared?"

"No," Duo breathed in response. "Not at all. I'm sorry for suspecting it would go badly."

Heero smiled kindly. "I'm sorry for making you suspect that."

He shook his head and assured him: "That was not your fault. It was my own. I need to learn to... have as much faith in mankind as I do in God."

"Goodnight Duo," Heero said softly and with only a minute waver of his sweet smile he added: "Enjoy your date, tomorrow." He slipped his hands into the front pockets of his slacks and started walking away, back to the old house next door.

Duo didn't trust his voice, so he didn't say anything, instead, he watched his guest as he went back home. Realizing it was inappropriate to have his gaze linger on the young man, he stepped back into the hallway and closed the front door. He leaned against it heavily, with a troubled sigh. All he could think was that he didn't want to spend tomorrow evening with Amber. Beautiful as she was, he'd much prefer another evening with Heero. That silent admission surprised him, but it was true. Heero was a paradox of feelings to him, no one in his life could make him as uncomfortable as Heero, with his uncanny, knowing eyes, seductive voice and uninhibited boldness. Similarly, no one in his life could make him as comfortable as Heero, with his exceptional kindness, his radiating calm and his accepting, unargumentative nature. It was an emotional tug-of-war that he secretly, masochistically enjoyed. It was exciting.

It was a spark.

He groaned and pushed away from the door. "Don't start thinking like that, Maxwell. It's just physical. It's carnal desire, trying to persuade you to stray from the path you know to be righteous!" He argued with himself as he switched off all the lights downstairs and headed up to his bedroom.

Blessedly, his sleep was dreamless. It gave him hope. Mind over matter. Faith over desire.

The next day became an eerie mirror image of the day before. Deciding to replicate the conditions of his 'date' with Heero, to prove to himself he could have a similarly enjoyable, exciting and enthralling time with Amber, he went to the store - coincidentally Amber wasn't working - and selected ingredients for another home-cooked meal, fussing over details and hidden meanings. At home he contemplated what to wear at length. For the occasion he settled on something a little more romantic. When he inspected his reflection in the mirror, he denied that he had basically copied Heero's outfit from the previous night: black slacks and an untucked dark blue dress shirt. He also didn't like to dwell on the notion that he wasn't as impressed with his own appearance as he had been with Heero's.

During the day his eyes kept finding the windows. In the morning he would frequently spot Heero on the ladder at the side of the house, finishing painting the paneling. Once that task was completed he didn't see the young neighbor around anymore. Though at some point, as he busied readying the kitchen - basically for a repeat of last night - he noticed Heero's truck leaving, the engine grunting and sputtering, only to return half an hour later.

Not that he was paying any attention to the activities of his neighbor. He didn't care.

When it was time to go pick up Amber he was tired and starving. He had predicted the late hour wouldn't agree with him, but that was not something he could confide in Amber. He estimated her to be as young as Heero, but probably not nearly as accepting of his true age.

The drive to the store was about ten minutes. He intently focused on the music; one love song after the other. They did nothing for his mood, which was reduced to clinical determination. Probably not the right mindset to have a date in.

He parked his sedan by the entry to the store and got out of the car, his stance purposefully casual, leaning against the side of the vehicle. As such the wait began. He checked his watch every few minutes, becoming increasingly impatient. Even though he hadn't felt it vibrate, he took his cell phone out of his pocket and checked for messages. There weren't any. And his watch was not broken, the clock on his cell phone read the same time: eight thirty.

What caused him most frustration was that at this rate they wouldn't be having dinner until nine thirty - at best, until then his stomach would cause him due embarrassment, rumbling with hunger as he had skipped lunch in the commotion of preparing for his first real date in a decade.

He made a face as a question suddenly came to him: Was he being stood up?

Just as he asked himself that and self-doubt started to flood him, Amber rounded the corner and walked up to him.

He inconspicuously checked his watch. A quarter to nine.

"Hi!" She beamed a smile at him and kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth.

"Uh, hi." He demonstratively looked down at his watch. "I was getting worried you weren't going to show."

She giggled. "You know how girls can get when they are getting ready for a date."

He didn't, but in the interest of not letting that be blatantly apparent, he didn't further question the matter.

"Okay, that's not true!" She paused to laugh, then explained: "My roommate told me I should show up late, make you sweat."

"You did more than make me sweat, you made me hungry." He walked around the car to open the passenger side door for her. He was eager to drop the topic, because she was already annoying him. Unhelpful as always, his mind supplied that Heero had been perfectly on time.

"Aren't you going to say anything about my dress?" She asked with a pout as she followed him to the other side of the car.

Only then did it occur to him to give her a once over. She was wearing a short, skintight fuchsia dress that revealed a lot of skin: her long legs, her slender arms and her cleavage, with a hint of black lace from her bra. She was wearing a lot of make-up - dark eyes, dark lips and heavy foundation - it distracted from her natural beauty. In spite of the fact Duo had never felt attracted to her, it had not gone unnoticed that even in the harsh lighting of the grocery store, without any make-up, she was a beautiful, young woman. With layers of make-up piled onto her face, she actually succeeded in making herself less pretty. Yet, he had been married once, however brief, so he knew better than to tell her the truth. Instead, he complimented her appearance and earned himself a smile.

"Where are we going?" She asked as she took a seat in the car.

"I was thinking, if it doesn't set off any alarm bells in your head, we could have dinner at my place."

"That is so sweet. I think that is a great idea."

"Really, so you don't mind?"

She shrugged. "I told my roommate who I am with. So if I turn up dead in a ditch somewhere, you'll be prime suspect number one." She giggled.

Okay... He shut the car door and walked around to driver's side wide-eyed. He opened the car door on his side to her changing the radio channel over and over again. "Something specific you are looking for?" He sat down and started the engine.

"No. You just had it on this really dull channel, with those cheesy prehistoric love songs."

"It was an eighties soft rock channel... Never mind." Arguing wasn't much of a turn on. Much less of a turn on was her calling the eighties prehistoric. Considering he entered and left puberty in the eighties. He had already gone through a serious life crisis by the end of the nineteen eighties, whereas at the end of 1989 Amber's biggest concerns were still what she would get for Christmas.

It was disconcerting that this bothered him. Seeing as he didn't give it any though the previous evening when he was with Heero, whom he estimated to be about as old as Amber.

Wanting to have the uncertainty resolved, he inquired gently: "So, how old are you?"

She playfully punched him. "You are not supposed to ask a lady about her age." After a cackle she answered: "I'm twenty-four."

He nodded at having his suspicions confirmed.

"How about you? How old are you?"

He repositioned his clammy hands on the steering wheel. "Uhm... why don't you guess?"

She didn't give it much thought. "Thirty!" She blurted.

Interestingly Heero had started at the same guess. It was a boost for his ego. Maybe he really did look only thirty years old. Not comfortable going down the same road with her as he had with Heero the evening before - fearing her judgment as surely not every twenty-something-year-old could be so open-minded - he lied: "Correct."

"Shut up! Shut. Up! Really?"

No. "Yes."

"Oh my God, how amazing am I at this game? Seriously, this is the second time I have gotten someone's age right with the first guess in, like, a week!"

He smiled. He liked that she didn't make a big deal about the age-difference, even though her guess severely narrowed the gap, six years was a pretty big deal to some people. Especially when one of those people is out of their twenties and the other isn't.

"Oh my god, my roommate is totally gonna laugh at me when I tell her how old you are!"

Never mind. "You think I'm old?"

"Well, duh, you're like... a real adult, you know?"

He neglected to inform her that, technically, so was she.

She must have seen him tense up, because she leaned in close and purred in his ear. "Don't worry though, you are the sexiest old guy, ever. I've been crushing on you ever since I first saw you. You are just so tall and handsome and delicious!"

He hid his scrunched up face at her remarks by turning his head away, pretending to be looking over his shoulder to monitor the traffic surrounding them.

"Speaking of delicious, what are you going to cook me?"

"I actually thought we could cook together."

Judging by her expression that didn't really excite her.

"Here it is." He pulled the car into the driveway.

She leaned forward in her seat - the seatbelt cutting into her cleavage - to observe the house through the windshield. It was dark outside but the lights in the front yard and by the porch illuminated the house. "Wow, it's amazing."

"Thank you." He got out and walked around the car to opened the door for her and offered her a hand to help her out. How girls walked in the kind of heels Amber was wearing had always been a mystery to him.

"You are so old-fashioned!"

With his back turned towards her he felt free to roll his eyes. He glanced quickly at the old house. The red truck was in the driveway and the lights downstairs were on, but he didn't see Heero anywhere.

Amber complimented every aspect of his home as he took her inside, from the paint on the walls to the pattern of the carpet. The amount of books astonished her.

Quite proud of his amassed personal library he asked her what she thought of his collection.

She pivoted on her heels to face him and asked with excited tone: "Do you have the Twilight books?"

"No, I'm sorry, I don't think I do."

"Too bad, those are my favorites. To be honest they are the only books I have ever finished." She laughed and continued: "In high school we used to have to read all these old book that were supposedly a big deal and then write reports about them. Thank God for wikipedia, right? They can't expect us to read all those books and then have us write summaries for them. I was like: Teacher, read it yourself. I mean, what difference does it make in real life if I have read Hamlet or not, right?"

"Right."

"Did you know they are making a Twilight movie? I am so dying to see that. It's supposed to premiere at the end of this year. I can't wait."

"That must be very exciting," he replied unenthusiastically. "Let's head into the kitchen and get started on dinner, it's already past nine."

"Or!" She stalked over to him and placed her hands against his chest. "We could just order pizza. That way I don't have to risk losing one of my fingernails and we save time for... desert?" She winked seductively.

He looked down at her hands on his torso, at her long fingernails specifically. Of course they were fake, from seeing her in the store he knew she had short, bitten nails. He didn't understand why she would go to such lengths - fake fingernails, fake eyelashes and pounds of make-up - to cover up perceived imperfections that he already knew about. He knew men joked about it all the time, but in this way, women really were a mystery to the opposite gender.

Having no desire to prolong this date, Duo agreed to her suggestion and picked up the phone to order pizza, it didn't matter to her which kind, or so she kept assuring him. Waiting for their dinner to arrive he set the table and listened to her talk about those books she mentioned.

Eventually, she wondered: "What's your favorite book?"

"The bible," he answered.

Amber started laughing, however when she picked up on his unamused expression she silenced herself. "I'm sorry. I thought you were making a joke."

"I wasn't. Though, of course, the Bible is more than and thus different from a regular book."

"My dad always says the Bible is the best marketed work of fiction ever."

He sighed.

Luckily the doorbell interrupted the conversation. Duo paid the deliveryman and brought the pizza to the kitchen. They ate in complete silence. Amber had less than one slice. She said she wasn't hungry but Duo worried she just didn't like the kind of pizza he had decided on, or was perhaps self-conscious about eating in his presence.

After dinner she asked if she could go wash up somewhere. Duo directed her to the upstairs bathroom. He busied himself clearing the table but once he was done with that chore he leaned his hands on the kitchen counter and stared out the window. He could see Heero in one of the front rooms of the old house, peeling old wallpaper off the walls. The neighbor was wearing nothing more than a pair of dark, low-riding sweatpants. Reaching up to grab a loose corner of the next strip of wallpaper his muscles visibly stretched and strained under his golden skin.

"Hey."

Amber's sudden presence startled him. He offered her an awkward smile, feeling like he had just been caught red-handed.

"Wanna move this date to the couch?"

"Yes," he said, but for the wrong reasons. He just wanted to prove that these deceptive desires would not get the better of him and that they were physical only and could just as easily be satisfied by a woman. He swallowed the lump of regret that formed in his throat at the awareness that he was abusing Amber's willingness and trailed her to the living room.

She sat down and invitingly patted the cushion right next to her.

Her gingerly sat down and tensed up when she scooted closer, so their thighs were touching.

"It was a good idea of you to have dinner at your place," she purred in his ear as she boldly placed her hand on his thigh.

With trembling voice he responded: "This is not why-" He cut his sentence short to emit a gasp when she ran her open mouth along the shell of his ear, her breath hot against his skin, causing him to tremble.

"Am I going to get into your pants, Duo?" She asked sensually.

"I don't know... How good are you with a zipper?"

She chuckled breathlessly. Her tongue darted out to further tease his ear while her hand started traveling up his thigh.

How was he not supposed to vividly remember his dream given the situation? His cheeks went red when he realized he was getting hard.

"Wait, Amber, this isn't why I invited you to my place. I think this is all going a little too fast."

Amber's hand stopped short of the crook of his thigh. "Duo, we both know that there is never going to be a second date between us. We're just not compatible. There is nothing wrong, however, in turning a bust of a date into a fun one-night-stand."

He stared at her quizzically. "You really think so?"

"Yeah. And it seems to me like you could really use a little something-something. Release all that tension."

"You're so... nonchalant about it... I hadn't expected that."

She smiled. "You're not Mister Right for me, but you are Mister Perfectly-Fine. I'm really interested in fucking Mister Perfectly-Fine right now. So let me." Her hand boldly moved to cup his confined erection.

"O-okay," he consented and relaxed against the back of the couch.

Her luscious lips descended upon him and she pressed her breast against him. Her hand in his lap was not idle. She proved to be very apt at undoing buttons and lowering zippers and soon enough her hand reached inside his pants, skin only separated by the thin layer of cotton of his briefs.

He cupped her face and kissed her back fervently, struggling to hang onto reality, fighting sinful fantasies. But soon enough it wasn't Amber on his couch anymore. It was Heero. In his tight leather pants that had made a marvelous appearance in Duo's other dream.

Her touch became his touch. Her kiss became his kiss. Her body became his body. Her face became his face. Her mouth became his mouth. Her name became his name.

Duo kissed his mouth passionately, fighting his teasing tongue into submission. His hands trailed down Heero's long, slender neck, feeling the powerful pulse that rivaled his own. He heard the sound of the leather pants as Heero threw one of his legs over Duo's and slowly grinded his pelvis against Duo's hip. The young man's hand briefly vacated his lap to slip under his shirt and trail up his abdomen, then it slowly moved back down and the long, slim fingers pushed past the elastic hem of Duo's underwear.

Foolishly deceived by the fantasy, Duo called out in pleasure: "Ohhh, Heero."

He hadn't even realized his mistake until his projected fantasy of the beautiful man retreated from the kiss, scrunched up his face and demanded: "What?"

Duo blinked at Amber, surprised at his unplanned, unwelcome and premature return to reality. He cleared his throat and feigned innocence. "What?"

"You said "Heero"," Amber rightfully accused. pulling away slightly. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He didn't know. He genuinely didn't know. But he was fearful, not necessarily of her judgment but of His. He was fearful the truth would be as unbearable to her as it was to him. Every lie was as shamefully pathetic as the next. There was nothing sensible he could say. He dumbly tried: "Nothing, it means nothing," wishing, more than anything, for that to be true. Than he wouldn't be feeling a certain way and she wouldn't be looking at him a certain way: disgusted.

"Nothing?" She repeated incredulously. She completely removed herself from him, clearly unsure how to act. Her wide eyes stared into thin air.

Duo zipped up his pants and straightened his clothing, not knowing how to behave either.

Amber's eyes narrowed as an epiphany must have come to her. "Isn't Heero your neighbor?"

Oh God. Duo felt sick. His face went pale. "Uhh... no, no, I don't think so."

She glared at him dangerously. "You fucking liar! Heero is your neighbor! I know he is! He comes to store and talks about his renovation of the old house on Ember street. If I am not mistaken, this is Ember street and that house-" she gestured in the direction of the old house next door, "is the only house that I saw that looks to be in a state of renovation!"

And here he thought she wasn't so bright. Shit.

She didn't stop to give him time for vain explanations. "Were you fantasizing about him while I was...? He's a guy! Are you guys gay together or something?"

"No! No he and I aren't anything together," he stressed desperately, "It was just a slip of the tongue!"

Amber snorted, not falling for his poor lies. She rose from the couch and stomped towards the front door, meanwhile fishing her cell phone out of her tiny, sparkly purse.

"At least let me drive you home," Duo tried.

She laughed bitterly. "No way, then I might actually end up in a ditch somewhere, now that I know your dirty little secret." She ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

He could hear her angry footfalls on the porch, then on the stone pathway leading to the street.

She shouted into her cell phone: "I need a cab! Seventh on Ember street! Make it quick!"

He watched her from the windows until the taxi arrived and she left, to make sure she would be alright. With a heavy feeling he sunk back into the soft cushions of the couch. When his worry about her wellbeing and guilt for what he had done to her slowly dissipated, they were replaced by a new disconcerting fear. What if she told Heero what happened, next time he went to the store?

"Oh you are so stupid Maxwell," he groaned and buried his face in his hands.

He glanced at the row of old Bibles on the bookshelf. What a disgrace he was. What a disappointment. To his parents. To his priest. To his God. And to himself. Who was going to love him if even God didn't love him?

If anything, he needed to believe that his secluded life was not without effect. But he didn't even have that comfort. If his methods had worked, he wouldn't have thought of Heero that way. If his methods had worked, he wouldn't still get hot thinking about his fantasy.

He stopped the panicked quiver of his lower lip. A decade of pretense to fit a preconceived notion of what a Christian man should be. Then, a decade of loneliness to isolate himself from unwanted thoughts and desires. All an effort to be worthy of God's love. All a failure.

The hopelessness was overwhelming. The unbearable truth crushed him, made it hard to breathe.

He wanted Heero. He yearned for his touch. He longed to know what it would feel like to kiss his lips.

Everything he was raised to identify as wrong and immoral, he had become. And that wrong could never be made right.

"It's hard to admit that you have failed," he could still hear Heero say. The young man was right. He had vainly hoped that he would never find out, but... there it was.

"This is what Anthony must have felt," he whispered to himself, eyes turned upwards to the ceiling.

"Right before he decided to kill himself."

---------------

Chapter 6

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