wingzerosoldier | [rp] But There Are Dreams That Cannot Be

[rp] But There Are Dreams That Cannot Be

War.

It was a terrible thing, that much most everyone could agree on. Some just thought it more necessary than others. However necessary it was or wasn’t, those who decided when there was war, those who instigated it, were responsible for each and every life touched by it, marred by it, taken by it. But how responsible, how guilty were those who allowed themselves to be used as tools?

How guilty was a boy with a detonator for killing a little girl with a yellow flower and a puppy? How guilty was a boy, little more than a child, that had sat in the pilot seat of humankind’s most advanced weapon? No matter his actions that influenced the end of the war; the boy had killed hundreds, thousands. Directly and indirectly. A boy, who could never truly understand the scope of what he had done, could never atone for those sins.

There were no heroes in war, only those who had done enough good among the evil to be recognized as still human.

He said he would never kill again, and yet - what use is a gun that has no target, a soldier who has no enemy, an operative who has no mission?

There was nothing for the boy with no name, no home, no mission. No life left to live, yet he couldn’t die. He couldn’t die with the blood of thousands on his hands. For each life he had taken, it seemed a mockery to give up that precious gift he had stolen. If he forfeit his own life, there was no word to express the cowardice of running from his sins.

He found comfort in Duo Maxwell. Another Gundam pilot, another boy who had his life taken from him by the war, another nameless victim who had to make his own name and his own way. It started sometime between the American pointing a gun at his face and the final moments in the silence of space after the destruction of Libra, but exactly when, he didn’t know. When he realized he had emotions other than guilt. Emotions towards another person that went beyond some extension of self-preservation. Emotions that went beyond the mission and its effects and consequences. Love, Duo had called it, but there was too much blood on his hands for him to accept that he deserved that love. And yet the American had persisted. Everyone deserved a chance, even them. As long as they tried to atone for what they had done, why should they be miserable and throw away the life they’d kept by killing other people?

Sleep didn’t come easy for the once Wing Zero pilot. Even as he lay in the dark, curled around his lover, he could only stare past the pillows to the stars beyond the window. The stars in the darkness that he wished would have swallowed him whole. But no, that was a coward thinking, someone who ran away. When he slept, he dreamed. He killed her often in his dreams - the little girl with the yellow flower and puppy. He hears her laugh a lot, too, before he destroys her, her family, her home, everything she’d ever known. He counted mobile suits in his dreams, but he could never think how many he’d destroyed.

He cried, sometimes, silent sobs that wracked his body and bitter tears that fell into the other’s braid as he slept. Duo had to know. It was hopeful to think he hadn’t woken the ex-02 pilot up with his anguish that sometimes just wouldn’t be reined in. As the days went on, things changed. It wasn’t that love wasn’t there - there was love. Love and guilt; all he had left. But his touch became colder, his gaze became distant, his words became fainter.

He woke up on the floor one night, tangled in the sheets and screaming. Head pressed to the floor and nails digging against the carpet, it had taken every ounce of self-control he had to stop himself. Self-control, and Duo’s crying and begging. He didn’t know how long he screamed, but his throat hurt as he washed his face with water in the bathroom. He came back to find that his lover had remade the bed for them. Neither of them slept the rest of that night, but when Duo stirred from his doze in the light of mid-morning, he found Heero by the front door. He wore his Preventers uniform, his pistol tucked in the back of his waistband under his jacket, and an old, familiar duffel bag sitting next to the welcome mat. He was leaving, he explained. He couldn’t sit in a normal house, with a normal life, and it not feel twisted and undeserved. It wasn’t because he didn’t love Duo, he reassured the other, hand cupping his cheek and brushing back the strands that had escaped his braid. If Duo wanted to wait, he would come back. One day, when he felt he had appeased the ghosts of his conscience. He loved Duo, but living like this was driving him insane. He left after a last kiss, with the promise that when he came back, they would get married like they had talked of.

He was 19 then.

He’s 25 today, dressed sharply in the formal uniform of the Preventers. His hair is unruly as it ever was, bangs low in front of prussian blue eyes. He’s taller now, shoulders a bit broader and held straight. There are murmurs behind him on the street as he walks, but their voices are eclipsed by polished shoes clicking along the asphalt. No one can tell his intent by his expression. It’s entirely neutral, but there’s the glimmer of one with a mission. A look his old lover would know well. Tucked carefully under his arm is a bouquet of 11 roses - red and yellow. Love and new beginnings. His pace slows and he stops in front of the third row house on the street. He looks up at the weather-worn door.

Six years ago, a haunted, gaunt teenager stood in the same spot, looking at the door that had just closed. He had told the door - and the occupant within, a quiet goodbye. Today he greets the same door without words. He’d made sure the resident was the same, a simple check had proved that. He steps forward, and presses the doorbell under the nameplate that says ‘Maxwell’, then steps back.

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Duo was mid-products report for Howard when the knock at the door had come, and his partner had insisted on answering the door while he continued his roll on typing up the lines, items, and prices for the old man. He didn't see well enough to do this for very long, so it was more painless for everyone for Duo to just.. do it himself in one fell swoop. He's so focused on the list and his typing that the voice doesn't even occur to him at first, but eventually it clicks in his mind that he finds it familiar. Shoving papers aside Duo gets up to head for the door, finding himself moving desperately fast, rushing for the door because if it's who he thinks it is - God he just wants to see him alive and well, even if Heero wouldn't want to speak to him now, wouldn't want to see his relationship go to the wastes.

Always a day late and a dollar short, though, the Deathscythe pilot arrives as soon as the blonde is shutting the door, brows creased in confusion and muttering "That was weird." before his eyes alight on Duo, smiling lightly at the braided man before he frowns just slightly at the wild look in his eye, that almost desperate look on his face that he'd never seen before. "Duo..?"

"You didn't answer, I got a little concerned. Who was it?" He knew it was probably a snowball's chance in hell that Heero had left his name, if it was him, but maybe, just maybe....

"I dunno. But he said that he was an old friend from the war, and that he'd missed your birthday, so he wanted me to give these to you..." Red and yellow roses. Duo looks confused for a moment, shrugging, and turning on his toe to find the kitchen, leaving a bewildered fiancé in the stair well. His very first order of business had been to count them, actually. Eleven. He swallows hard as he realizes it had been Heero, and he'd missed him.

He'd missed him, and he might not ever be back. "Baby? You're awfully quiet.."

"I'm okay." It's short and clipped, as Duo carefully cuts the end of each rose stem, methodically, wondering if he could snip his own finger off for every idiotic moment he'd thought that agreeing to this engagement had been a good idea. "If you say so..."

Much later in the night, Duo sits down to his e-mail, trying to think of how to word an e-mail to Heero, wondering what to write. In the end he just ends up writing something short and sweet:

I'm sorry I missed you today. You could have stayed, I would have loved to have at least seen you. If you're still on colony, message me back. I want to see you before you go, and get the chance to talk to you.

We have a lot to catch up on.

0102

He hadn't really thought Duo was still single. At least, he told himself that, but it hurt either way, so what did it matter? He never did send the email he'd thought of sending, never even gotten the first of it written. He'd given up eventually and taking a walk down the canal that ran through part of the city. Late that night, he'd returned to his room.

He was reading a mission briefing that he had insisted Sally send him. After all, he no longer needed space in his schedule to return to his ~white picket fence romance~. Most of the way through it, there's a small ding, and a window at the corner of his screen. He reads the email, sits back in the desk chair, and reads it again.

0102

Why would he...?

Heero finds himself typing what he couldn't earlier.

     I didn't want to intrude. I'm going back to L1 morning after tomorrow.

He stops then, gazing at the screen for what seems like ages.

     I'm happy for you.

          0102|

He deletes it.

     I'm sorry for leaving.           Heero

Send.

He's up far later than he might usually be, far later than he really should be, but he can't bring himself to care. he wants to wait for Heero's response without his france breathing down his neck to come to bed, trying to seduce him back to the covers where he could have him for a little while with undivided attention, less of that space he felt growing between them day to day. The rest of the day Duo had been distracted, thinking of Heero and wondering if he was going back to where ever he lived now, if he was leaving him and this time it would be, truly and really, for good. He couldn't just let that happen, couldn't just let his own possible happiness slip through his fingers so easily.

So he sat tirelessly next to his laptop, doing "work" and praying to anyone who would listen that Heero would e-mail him back, even if it's to say 'go to hell' or 'why didn't you wait for me' - anything was better than this steely silence that made him feel as though he was walking on cutting wires.

Finally his e-mail alerts, and he's reading the short message with that familiar pain in his throat that signals he's close to tears even at seeing it, taking a deep breath before he begins, slowly, to type out an e-mail.

You'll never intrude on me. You should know that.

It's been miserable without you. I miss you so much.

Send.

... And then another, around 3 in the morning.

I can't sleep. Can I come and see you?

He doesn't know what to say to the first email. He doesn't know how many times he reads it. Duo had a partner. A lover. Why wasn't that person making him happy? It confuses him, bothers him.

Why is Duo miserable without him, yet with another person? It makes him feel even guiltier for leaving, angry at the strange blonde in the doorway that wasn't taking good enough care of the most precious thing that had ever been in his life.

Heero doesn't answer the first email. He distracts himself with work, filling out a follow-up to a recent mission, re-reading the briefing for the new mission.

At 3am, he can't sleep either. He's lying on the still-made hotel bed, ankles crossed and gazing out at the city below. The sound of another email coming in startles him from his thoughts, and he gets up.

The response Duo will get is the address of the hotel, only a few blocks away, the floor and hotel room number.

Only a few blocks. Only a few city blocks stood between Duo and going to see Heero again. Even if it was just to talk and spend time - it was better than nothing. Better than knowing Heero had come back for him and he hadn't even gotten up to see who was at the door. So he moves quickly - grabbing his keys and slipping out the door. He wasn't the type to make up elaborate lies, instead he'd say that Heero had contacted him and wanted to see him, so he'd made the trip out despite the time. Sometimes, his partner trusted him a little too much, was a little lacking in the jealousy department in ways that made Duo question things even more than he already was.

The former Deathscythe pilot's fast walk eventually turns in to a full out run, and though he feels like a moron at first, he realizes that this is getting him there faster, the racing of his heart more out of excitement and anxiety than exertion. Even if they are never properly together again - he thinks he can get by having Heero's phone number.. some way to connect with him even if he couldn't have him. The ride in the elevator is nerve wracking and silent, but as soon as he's outside of his door.. Duo is paralyzed.

What was he doing? He ditched his fiancé without a second thought to come here, to see Heero at a questionable hour and under questionable motives. What the hell was he doing here? Was he running full throttle in to another heart break?

... Maybe heart break was better than the abyss of not knowing. So he reaches to knock on the door in their typical code, waiting for the Japanese man to answer the door as he chews at his lip.

That was fast.

It's a habit, and Heero knows it's Duo, but he checks the peephole in the door anyway. He opens the door and steps back to allow the braided pilot in.

His eyes take in the sight of the other. Cliche as it is, it's like a drink of water when he's been lost in the desert. One hand stays very firmly on the door handle until Duo is inside, the other hand in his pocket. Maybe like this, he can keep from flinging his arms around the spoken-for man in front of him, from clinging to him and never letting him go this time.

He doesn't say anything for an awkwardly long time, but finally: "It's been a while."

It's lame, but he tries a smile that only manages to look painful. If only Duo knew how much he wanted to hold him right now, but he was happy now. Or at least, he was with someone else. But hadn't his email said he was miserable?

"Hey.." Duo says quietly, another habit, as Heero opens the door. This is so.. awkward.. but he knows they have to push through it. They have to. He won't allow anything else, and god damn it, if he has to grapple with Heero to get him to that point by the time the sun rose, then that's absolutely what he would do. In six years Duo hasn't changed much - he's gotten a little taller, the slightest bit more broad, but over all he's still the same Duo. Still free of a beard or any facial hair worth noting, still with a braid that's nearly touching his calves at this point, still just... the Duo that Heero would recognize right off the bat.

And that was entirely on purpose. He has to resist flinging his arms around him too, instead nervously toying with the ring on his ring finger, indicative of who he has waiting for him at home but.. for once... Duo wasn't so convinced he could control himself.

"Yeah, it has..." Duo attempts to mimic that smile and just.. flat out fails, the expression almost a pained one instead of Duo's usual smiles. Something that's new for him is that perpetually worried, sad furrow to his brow, the way those indigo eyes weren't shining with mischief anymore, and more so a look of.. well.. almost misery that lurked behind them, something that only one of his fellow pilots would be able to see.

"D'you.. mind if I sit down or something.."

Heero sees Duo toying with the ring on his finger, and it feels as if he'd just been winded. It's a slap in the face, a reminder that he's not 'the one' anymore, nor will he be again. It is, at least, easy inspiration to keep him from embracing the other. Heero shuts the door, in time to see that pained smile.

It hurts him, almost physically, to see it. That smile that doesn't quite make it, the pain in his eyes. The pain he had caused for the last nine years, since they had known each other and been together. Since he had begun to fall apart.

Heero takes his hand out of his pocket and something falls to the floor when he steps forward - a little cube of a box, with rounded edges and covered in a navy velvet-like fabric. He doesn't notice the thing he dropped, or if he does he ignores it. His arms encircle the ex-Deathscythe pilot, tightly. He tries not to hurt the other in his enthusiasm. He takes a shuddering breath that Duo won't be able to hear, but will be able to feel, and forces himself to let go.

He nods, mutely to Duo's request and motions to the bed behind him. It's overwhelming. The scent of Duo's shampoo that he's sure hasn't changed at all, the brush of his hair on skin, the familiar warmth that doesn't seem to have changed in six years.

The Preventer sits in the desk chair beside the bed wordlessly, eyes watching Duo, the little box forgotten on the floor by the door.

It almost... burns to wear that ring in front of Heero. For someone who only lied by omission - this had been the greatest two year lie he had ever gone along with. That poor schmuck sleeping in 'their' bed back at 'their' house believed that one day they would get married, that he'd ever had any intention of marrying him because he was too much of a fool to face up to being alone, and comfort himself with the knowledge that Heero would be back. His own post-war weaknesses had lead to the biggest mistake and mess of his life, and now he knew he either had to face it or find a way to fix it, if he could possibly do so.

he'd pull back flips of Trowa Barton proportions in order to do so. He had to.

The Deathscythe pilot is shocked, for all of a few seconds, as Heero clutches him close. His hand moves automatically to touch the back of his head while he's there, holding Heero in return as best as he possibly could. He doesn't notice the box either, too caught up in the moment, in the familiar feeling of Heero's body against his own.

Duo sits, worrying his lip for a long moment and still toying with that ring, a little too big (and not resized because why blow the money?) for his finger, as he thinks of what to say. Finally he settles on the simple truth, running his fingers through his bangs and looking down to the floor, ashamed of himself even as he admits it. "I... I fucked up, Heero.."

The ex-pilot runs a hand idly up his arm. He's wearing a white tank undershirt, and even in the dark illuminated only by the city lights outside, it's easy to see that he's covered in scars. His hands are more calloused than they had been. He looks almost rough, like this, not the polished and accomplished soldier that had brought roses earlier.

His eyes flicker up to his once lover, to that ring that shouldn't be there -- no, it should, if Duo wants it, he has to tell himself that -- but his words are only adding up to something he doesn't want to hear. Not because he doesn't want to think he has a chance with his love again, because he certainly does want to be able to think that, but rather that he doesn't want Duo to have been unhappy.

"What do you mean?"

"I fucked up. I'm fucked up." He says, almost as if that explains absolutely everything. He doesn't know how to say this without looking like an idiot, without looking like the children they weren't supposed to be anymore. He felt like a little kid having to admit that he'd done something wrong, right about now, so blinded by what he was feeling at the moment to notice much of Hero's scars or rougher hands.

He was supposed to wait - and what had he done? Lead someone else along, promised himself to someone else before Heero returned, and why? Because he was afraid of being alone, afraid of silence and what that would do to him.

"I... was too afraid of being alone to stay there, by myself... Too afraid of being alone to turn down the ring. He's so happy about everything and I'm fucking miserable and have been putting off what he wants for a year because I never stopped waiting for you - " His voice cracks and Duo gives a clearly shuddering breath, closing his eyes just in time to stop any real tear build up that had happened, swallowing hard and gathering himself before meeting those prussian eyes again.

"I'm sorry. I fucked up. But I want.. to fix it. I missed you so much it physically hurt sometimes and I can't believe I was that stupid.." He closes his eyes again in time for a tear to run down his nose, gathering at the end until he wipes it away.

"I just missed you..."

He manages to listen quietly, but when Duo's voice chokes up, the Japanese man is out of the chair and sitting on the bed next to the other. He lays a hand on Duo's shoulder. He's never been good at comforting others; being emotional in any way had been a hard thing to learn, to get used to. But he couldn't sit there and pretend he didn't care. He's quiet for a while, but he tries to reassure the other that his silence isn't because of anger or disapproval or anything negative towards Duo...he simply doesn't know what to say.

"Duo," he says very softly, and his hand automatically goes to gently petting the other's long hair. He's silent again. Finally, "I missed you too." That's a good neutral place to start. Then, "I'll do whatever you want me to, whether it's wait for you or go back to L1 and stay there."

He's there to catch any more tears, thumb gently stroking across Duo's cheek. He seems to alternate between giving into wanting to comfort the ex-pilot, and trying to be respectful of his relationship.

For a moment he wonders - what they silence means. Heero's been gone for six years, it could mean something negative now, couldn't it? He didn't want to jump to conclusions but his mind was already going to places he didn't really want to, even as Heero tries his best to comfort him. He wonders, too, if they'll ever be able to move past the hurt of this entire episode. If he'll ever get over it, if he'll ever be able to fully forgive him for just up and leaving like that.

"Don't you have a mission or something? That you have to go to L1?" He leans in to Heero's hand, the indigo color of his eyes brighter now that his eyes are a little red and blood shot, sniffling as he thinks of what to do.

"I want to be with you. No more waiting..." And then he chuckles, lightly, as if laughing at himself for feeling the need to say this. "It's been six years, and I ran here like a moron because I'm still in love with you, even after all that time..."

If Duo never forgave him for leaving, Heero wouldn't blame him. But he had promised that once he wasn't quite so haunted, once he didn't feel quite so guilty, that he would be back - with a wedding ring, if Duo would still have him. And if he wouldn't, well, no one could blame him, least of all Heero. Six years had been a long time, and leaving so suddenly hadn't helped his cause. It was a valid reason. He had found his breaking point, and he felt as if he'd somehow fell through rock bottom.

"I live there," he says. "But yes, there's an open mission in a few days." An open mission - volunteers, not assigned. Which meant Heero didn't have to go.

He finds that it hurts when Duo says that. He looks down, hands settling onto his thighs and remaining there. Should he say he still loves Duo, when the other has a fiance? Should he still...

"I want to be with you," he says too. "I love you."

Getting over this engagement fiasco was a small bump in the road, so far as Duo was concerned. He wasn't necessarily unaccustomed to just walking out of people's lives, he'd done so with Hilde and he wouldn't be afraid to do the same in the morning. What kind of gundam pilot was afraid of something being angry with them, other than each other, anyway? Maybe this time had been so stressful and breaking for the both of them, and though they could come together and show weakness like this again.. they'd grown to be better people separately.

Now the test was seeing if they could be together again. "Oh, I understand.." He nods, leaning in to that hand again, happy to feel that familiar hand, as rough or scarred as it may be, against his face.

His eyes slowly open as Heero's hand moves away, though, and as soon as those words leave his mouth.... If Heero was worried about 'I love you' - how does he feel about the braided pilot leaning in to kiss him?

It's light, and unassuming, but it's still a kiss.

He came to realize at some point that he is only human. No matter how he had been raised, and what sort of things his body tolerated that most bodies wouldn't, he was still human. Being with Duo had weakened his resolve as far as emotions went, because they showed him he was capable of having emotions. He was never as good at suppressing his emotions as he was just not having them in the first place. But now that he has these emotions, specifically these emotions for Duo, and now that he's had to simply pause them for six long years... It feels as if that should make it easier, but being apart had done nothing to lessen that love.

He freezes, when those lips touch his own. Since they had their last kiss all that time ago - he hasn't had a friendly human touch since then. His eyelashes flutter and close, and the soldier leans into the kiss just a little.

He might tease Heero about that, later. That it had taken him six years to realize something that he had preached to him from the end of the war until he had left that morning years ago. Of course he knew there was no point to it, that the past was the past and there was no use focusing on it - but damn if he didn't want to rub his face in it even a little bit just because he was Duo maxwell and that's what he did.

Kissing Heero again felt... like home. Like they had never been apart, and like they should make every effort to never be apart again. Duo, for one, had every intention of not allowing that if Heero would do the same for him. Once Heero leans in Duo's hand moves to touch his arm, a quiet, suppressed, wanting noise making its way past Duo's lips and against Heero's.

The rising feeling in him was... desperate for a touch, for more kisses, to feel Heero touch him again. But he didn't know how much Heero would be willing to give while he still had someone else's ring on his finger.

Reserves in the 'chaste' and 'proper' departments were going to fail fast if this keeps up - especially with Duo making sweet little noises. Heero pulls back and swallows hard before he gave into another kiss, then another, his fingertips sliding along Duo's side, catching on the fabric.

He'd missed this. It felt exactly as he remembered. He'd waited so long and while he had been prepared to be turned down, this was something strange and not anticipated. That Duo was taken, but not interested in his current partner.

One hand finds Duo's braid, and he grasps it lightly, and lifts it to look at it. "It's longer than usual," he comments idly. "Can I undo it?" It was one of his favorite things about Duo: his impossibly long, silky hair.

Duo wouldn't mind. He'd feel bad about it later, thinking about the fact that he'd technically cheated on his current partner with the one he hoped to get back - but at the moment he's flying by the seat of his pants and for once was very much enjoying it. Usually, he liked to be in some control, but right about now if Heero took control and flew him to the mood he wouldn't find with him at all. He meets each successive kiss with one of his own, pulling himself closer to the Japanese pilot.

Still, the observation about his hair spurs a little bit of a laugh, and he nods.

"Yeah.. it's past my knee caps now so I've gotta trim it... I have to stay here long enough to go and get the hair cut I scheduled... I picked a place where they cut off twelve inches and give it to people with cancers or things like that..." He leans in to kiss Heero one more time, before nodding his approval.

"Yeah, go ahead and undo it." He'd tell him some other time that his current fiancé had never had the pleasure of seeing his hair undone and playing with it like Heero had when ever he asked to.

He doesn't smile outright, but the ex-pilot's smile softens at Duo's words. That sounds like him, helping out in whatever way he could.

Heero reciprocates the next kiss, then sits mostly behind Duo to better reach his hair. It's surreal, slipping off the hair tie and very slowly beginning to unbraid the hair from the bottom. Once in a while, he'll stop to comb his fingers through the silky tresses. "So beautiful," he mumbles once the wavy tresses are thoroughly combed out. He finds himself still playing with Duo's hair, sitting in the silence of the late night.

Duo chuckles lightly at Heero's comment about how beautiful his hair was. He's quite proud of it, and all of the effort he goes through in order to keep it this way for himself and Heero, who was now reaping the benefits. He's quite pleased to feel those fingers through his hair again, though....

If his little noise before was testing his self control... his little moan at how it feels to have Heero playing in his hair probably isn't really helping, is it?

"Heero.."

If Duo is trying to encourage Heero to help him stay faithful until that ring is firmly off and Duo and his fiance are actually broken up, he's doing a terrible job of it. He doesn't answer to his name, but continues stroking the other's long hair as if to soothe him. His hands are as gentle as ever, and gradually he moves up to running his fingers along the other's scalp, brushing hair back then repeating the whole motion over again.

It was a strange comfort for both of them once, Heero gently playing with Duo's hair, or combing it, or re-braiding it. And it's a comfort now, at least for Heero. Like this, he can temporarily forget that Duo's betrothed, that there's a stranger living in their old house, the confusion that Duo says he's been miserable and that he made a mistake... Heero's fingertips idly massage Duo's temple back into his hairline, a gesture to comfort him.

His brain is telling him he can't do that, on top of going back and telling him that he was leaving, and he'd made a mistake. His body, however, it on full scale rebellion the very moment Heero starts stroking his hair and his temples. Only Heero Yuy knew how to turn him on just by playing with his hair, and at this point it was almost unfair advantage.

He intended on telling the other man the full story, to help him understand, leave him the house to do whatever he wanted with, and get out of there to be with the Wing Zero pilot. It might seem extreme, after 6 years of waiting around and being alone, but it was what his body and mind compelled him to do.

When he speaks his voice is small and breathy, but Duo knows that Heero will be able to hear him.

"I never.. let him touch my hair like this.. No one else really has but you."

He knows that tone of voice as if he'd only heard it yesterday, and for a moment, it makes his fingers falter in the other's hair. Or maybe it's his words that impact him as hard as seeing the ring, maybe more so. His hands continue their path and he speaks in an equally quiet voice.

"You don't like him at all."

Duo was picky about who touched his hair, yes, but to not let his partner touch his hair, take it down and stroke it...it might mean nothing to some, but for Heero, it seems to put the whole relationship in perspective for him. His head bows, and he leans forward, resting his forehead against Duo's back, looping his arms around the other's waist and just sitting there in silence.

Duo doesn't really know what to say to that. He liked him as a friend and a companion, someone to spend time with and occupy his time when he needed a distraction. But when it came to love... He couldn't honestly say that he loved him in that way, loved him enough to say it back to him in a way that wasn't a Heero-esque grunt. So in response to Heero's statement he just turns to give him a small, sad smile, before he places his hands over the other man's around his waist. He hadn't felt so comfortable in someone's embrace in a long, long time, and he relaxes back against Heero's weight.

"I've also never told him I loved him.."

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