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Drug Trip	By : Zethsaire Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male > Heero/Duo Views: 790 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or any of the characters. I don't make money off this story.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Author's notes: Currently the couples in this fic are 5x6 and implied 3xR (Yes, yes...boooooo and all that.) There will be more in the future but I really don't feel like ruining everything by writing out a huge list of couples. You'll just have to wait! But I can guarantee that if you don't like 1x2, this fic ain't for you!

I would also like to add that I don't condone illegal drug abuse. It fucks up a lot of things for a lot of people...that's kind of the point of this story. Obviously if you DO choose to do drugs, that's your decision and I'm not condemning you by any means, but I'm also not actively promoting drug use with this fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing or the any of the characters, universe, etc. etc. I don't plan on making money of this fic in any way. It is for pure enjoyment and writing practice only! That being said, the writing is still mine, and as a creative concept, it still belongs to me, so please ask before re-posting. Thanks!

Chapter Eleven

Tuesday, April 1st, AC 204, 2 am

Heero didn't stay high for long. When he'd first started taking heroin, he'd be high for hours, escaping from the pain of his existence into a happier place. His body had a strong tolerance for drugs as it was (besides the one he'd been brought up on) and after heavy recreational use, his heroin high barely lasted for an hour. If he'd been shooting up, it might have lasted two. Usually he'd take a second or third hit to maintain his high, but Cornelius wouldn't let him, and even though he didn't feel better, he also didn't feel like dealing with Marcus' abusive habits to get more.

After he'd fucked Cornelius in his office, he'd gone out into the other room and fucked everyone there too. He knew, because his high had worn off near the end, and it was kind of hard not to figure out what was going on when you were getting your brains fucked out by two different guys. They'd paid well though – he'd actually gotten to keep some of it after paying Cornelius. Then he'd turned around and bought another carton of pot cigarettes, which he was steadily working his way through.

It was late, and everyone else had gone to bed. Heero stood outside in the rain and smoked, slowly getting soaked while he leaned on the railing outside of Cornelius' house. He should go home...but he didn't want to face Duo again. They still had that horrible mess between them that needed to be worked out, and Heero didn't want to talk about it any more then when he'd left. Especially not since he remembered fucking all those people just now.

He was trying rather unsuccessfully to get high again on pot. After a heroin high, it just wasn't the same. Heero sighed. His life was such a fucking mess. After realizing that he'd actually slept with the only person he'd ever felt something that could have been described as 'love,' he'd run off and gotten high and slept with at least three people he didn't give a shit about. What did that say about him, as a person?

Heero wondered what Duo was doing since he'd left. Was he out looking for Heero? Had he called Wufei and bitched about him? Or had he done the same thing Heero had, and gone to Demetri's for a pity-fuck? Duo had changed since the war, just like he had, so Heero had no way of judging what his behavior might be. Duo was usually loyal to a fault, but who knew what he'd do if his loyalty was split between people the way he was stuck between Heero and Demetri. Heero had no right to ask Duo to stop seeing Demetri, especially after his behavior today.

That was just the problem. Being there for Duo, sleeping with Duo, sharing his feelings and being intimate with Duo had always seemed like an insurmountable obstacle. And when Duo got angry about it, it only made Heero more anxious, stressed and angry himself. That usually made him go and get high on crack or heroin, in the days just after the war. Then he found out that he'd done just that during the middle of the fucking war. He couldn't handle it. Where had he found the strength? High or not, Heero never let anyone in to his personal space like that. He'd screw them, but never cuddle afterwords. Never fall asleep as deeply as he had that night. Never feel safe in someone else's arms. Except that one damn night.

"Why are you still here, Yamato?" Cornelius' voice came from behind him. He had his own cigarettes, and leaned on the railing beside Heero, lighting one and staring up into the hazy sky above them.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked, indignant. Usually Cornelius was the one trying to get him to stay.

"You know what I mean. Why are you here? I thought for sure, after last time, that I'd never see you again." Cornelius confessed.

"Why wouldn't I see you again? I'm still working, you know. Unless you want me to work for someone else."

"Don't try to make this about me, Yamato." Cornelius said darkly. "You live with a gorgeous guy, who puts up with all your shit, who doesn't rag on you about being a prostitute, who even comes to your gigs to check on you and make sure you're okay, and who doesn't try to screw you when you're clearly so fucked up you'll do anyone. You can't find many people like that. And I thought, after last time, you'd finally figured that out."

"I told you, we're just friends. It's not like that." Heero replied, trying to keep the ice out of his tone.

"Uh-huh. Sure." Cornelius wasn't buying it.

"We had a fight, okay?" Since when did Cornelius care about his personal problems?

"About what?" He really wasn't going to let this go.

Heero grit his teeth. "My intimacy issues."

"So instead of dealing with it, you come to my place and get laid? Why would you do that?"

"What the fuck Cornelius? Why do you CARE?" Heero snarled.

"He loves you." Cornelius said, as if that made everything all better. "And as far as I can tell, you love him. Why do you always run away from your problems, Heero Yuy? I'd think you of all people would be able to face them like a man."

He must have heard Cornelius wrong. "What – what did you just call me?"

The look Cornelius gave him was withering. "Did you think I didn't know? Please. You're not the only one who fought in the war you know. To another soldier, your military training is obvious, even under all that makeup. You're practically a celebrity. I knew it was you the first night you came to me for a hit. Shocked the hell out of me too."

"You fought in the war?"

"I know you five were the big guns, but there were other people who resisted OZ and the Alliance. We weren't as famous as you, but that didn't stop us from dying just the same. When the war was over I started selling drugs instead. Say what you want about it, pot makes people happy. I liked that."

"Shit." Had all his clients known? He wasn't sure he'd be able to handle that.

"I doubt the civilians would have known. And Duo was too close to you to be able to see you like that, I suppose. He probably wouldn't have recognized you even if he'd seen you." Well wasn't he the fucking voice of wisdom.

"I'm not going to tell you not to stop by any more. Heroin is nasty shit; if you can't stand it and you want a hit, I'll keep it for you. And pot of course, you could do with some serious mellowing. But I don't want you to use me as your go-to man anymore. If you want to fuck someone, fuck that guy who's crazy about you. People like us – people who have killed and had those closest to us die – people that are covered in blood, we don't get many second chances. Don't fuck yours up."

Cornelius flicked his cigarette off the railing and into the street below, before straightening up. He turned away from Heero before Heero could ask him any more questions, and headed back towards the house. Heero heard the grate lock behind him.

Well, shit. It took Heero two more cigarettes before he really managed to process everything Cornelius had just thrown at him. Out of all the people he'd encountered, he'd never figured Cornelius for a fighter. And he certainly hadn't expected him to spout wisdom like a Zen master. Wufei perhaps, but not his drug dealer.

Cornelius must have called him a cab, because one showed up all on its own about twenty minutes later. Heero got in, his mind still reeling from the verbal bitch slap Cornelius had given him. He wasn't sure, but he thought he might have just been fired. He certainly wouldn't be doing any more parties for the man after this. There was nothing left for him to do but go home, and try to face the reality of the situation. He would have to talk to Duo, no matter what it might cost them in the end. If Heero didn't start trying to make their relationship work, he was going to lose the only person who had ever loved him.

Tuesday, April 1st, AC 204, 5:43 am

It was almost six in the morning when Quatre felt Heero return to the apartment. Duo had fallen asleep against Quatre's shoulder, after sobbing so hard into it that Quatre expected the shirt would be permanently ruined. Not that he was concerned about the shirt at this point; he was far more concerned with Duo's welfare. If Heero had come back, Quatre definitely had things he wanted to say to him. Preferably without Duo around.

Carefully Quatre eased Duo off his shoulder and onto the futon. Once Duo had turned over on his side and continued to sleep, Quatre got up and went to the door, making sure to make enough noise so Duo wouldn't wake up simply because he heard someone sneaking around. He eased the door open; he could feel Heero's general presence and mood, which was more stormy then ever, but that didn't mean he knew exactly where the other man was.

He spotted him leaning against the railing, smoking. After that things happened rather too fast for thought. All Quatre could see was that unkempt dark hair and that stiff shoulder line which practically radiated misery, and all at once he knew, knew that it was Heero. A terrible rage welled up inside him. How dare Heero treat Duo this way. It apparently hadn't been enough to ruin their lives the first time, he'd had to come back and do it all over again. Well, not this time.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he'd marched up to Heero, yanked him around by the shoulder, and smashed his fist into Heero's jaw as hard as he could. Quatre was not prepared to see the face of the person he'd so rudely punched. It wasn't Heero's face at all – he was way too thin, and he was wearing garish clothes, and that ragged hair went down past his shoulders. Quatre had never been so flabbergasted in his life.

"Oh my god, I punched a stripper! What the hell is a stripper doing outside your apartment anyway? Wait – Heero brought home a stripper?" Quatre looked around wildly for Heero. He'd just punched some random bystander! What was wrong with his empathy?

"Could you say stripper just a little louder? I don't think all the neighbors heard you." The stripper snarled in Heero's voice, pulling himself off the pavement.

Duo came running out the door. "Heero! Shit! Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Heero insisted. "What the hell was that for?" He directed his furious eyes toward Quatre, who was staring back at him with a dumbfounded expression on his face. Heero might as well have smacked him upside the head with a pole.

"H-heero? But you look like – I mean -"

"You didn't tell him?" Heero asked Duo.

"I wasn't going to say anything without asking you first." Duo retorted.

"But you had to have called him. He was expecting me." Heero didn't seem happy to see Quatre at all. It probably had something to do with the nasty cocktail mix of emotions raging through him.

"He called me!" Duo protested. "It's not my fault you project unhappiness across half the planet."

"Uh...guys?" Quatre interrupted with a nervous squeak. "What's going on?"

"Come on inside." Heero growled. "I'll explain it to you. Then you can tell me why you felt the need to try and break my jaw."

Duo, Tuesday, April 1st, AC 204, 6 am

Quatre followed them into the house, still looking dazed. Duo didn't blame him – he'd been floored when he'd seen Heero that first night, and the revelations that had come after hadn't exactly been easy to swallow either. But Heero was back now. He almost wished Quatre wasn't here; he and Heero needed to have a serious conversation about what had happened earlier. He would have a hard enough time getting Heero to open up if they were alone; Heero wasn't likely to share the intimate details of his sex life with Quatre. Especially since there was a good chance Quatre would pick up on more then his words. For someone as intensely personal as Heero, the invasion of his thoughts would be worse then selling himself on the street.

Duo sat down on the futon, and Heero sat down warily beside him. He was still very unhappy; Duo didn't need to be an empath to know that. He'd always been able to read Heero's posture, and that stiff back and shoulders along with his tightened jaw meant that Heero was seriously pissed off. He smelled like sex and weed, which was probably not making him any happier, and twisted Duo's stomach.

Without looking at Heero, Duo slid his hand nonchalantly across the space between them and grabbed Heero's hand in his. He gripped Heero's hand so hard it hurt. He didn't care what Heero had done while he was gone, he was back now. If Heero was bolting again, it would be with Duo at his side, make no bones about that. He felt Heero squeeze his hand back slightly, and the other man made no move to try and loosen Duo's death grip. He didn't know what that meant. Most likely, Heero hadn't forgiven him, but had decided, like Duo had, that it would be better to talk about after Quatre was gone.

That could be because he was glaring at Quatre as if he could simply will him to go away. The blonde had retired to one of the stools, dragging it over to the futon. He looked confused, hurt, and even a little guilty. Even though he was technically looking down at Heero from his perch, it was obvious who was winning that contest of wills.

"Why did you hit me?" Heero asked, when Quatre had squirmed for a few minutes.

"Because you deserved it." Quatre replied. "You should have seen what Duo was like when you were gone. What all of us have had to go though since you left. Do you have any idea what kind of pain you caused?"

"I know." Heero said, and something in his eyes and tone made Duo shiver, and Quatre flinch. "I know I caused a lot of pain to everyone, especially Duo. I'm trying to work thought it and make up for what I've done. Don't try and make it sound simple, because its not. If it was, I'm sure you would have patched up things between you and Trowa."

Quatre looked away at his words and said bitterly, "I never said it was easy."

Great. Now he'd started a fight between the guy who'd come to keep him sane and the guy he'd been up crying about all night. This whole situation was fucked up. "Anyway Quat, Heero's not a stripper. He's just gotten more...liberal with his fashion since you saw him last."

Quatre looked at Heero's skin tight black tank and acid washed jeans, with heeled boots and accessories, and said, "I suppose that's one way of putting it."

"I didn't ask for your opinion." Heero snapped. "I'm a prostitute, okay? Does that offend your delicate sensibilities?"

"Enough! God!" Duo said, before things could get even more out of hand. "Everyone's tired so why don't we just go to bed? I'm sure everything will be better tomorrow."

Heero turned his murderous gaze on Duo, who met his stare with determined eyes. He was not going to listen to the two of them fight for the next hour. As it was, it was a damn good thing it was Saturday, because he was far enough behind in his work as it was. There was no way he could deal with work and Demetri right now, and the Preventers project was too complex to be handled by anyone else.

"Fine. I'm going to take a shower." Heero didn't quite pry Duo's hand off his, but it was clear that he would if he had to, so Duo let go. He was just going to go shower. Duo could handle that.

Heero got up stiffly, and stalked off towards Duo's tiny bathroom without speaking to either of them. Duo hadn't seen him this angry since...well, since the very day they'd been fighting about, in fact. Quatre was deathly pale. Apparently Heero had been projecting his anger quite effectively in the blonde's direction.

"Heero is furious at me." Quatre said, confirming Duo's suspicions. "But it's more then that. When he looks at me he feels...ashamed?"

Duo could think of a few nasty reasons for that. "You haven't been to any wild parties in the last few years have you?"

"Wild parties? Well...usually I don't go to any, but I did go to one that Zechs hosted about a year ago. It was supposed to be for charity, but all of Zechs' parties get a little crazy. Why do you ask? Duo, are you alright?"

"...fine." Duo said, though he was sure Quatre wouldn't be convinced. He knew his face was like death warmed over; he felt like he'd been hit upside the head with a board. "Would you like some more tea?"

Without waiting for an answer, Duo got up off the couch and went over to his kitchenette. He just needed something to do, something to steady his hands. Was there anyone they knew that Heero hadn't slept with? That wasn't really fair; Heero had been pretty off his rocker the first night he'd reappeared, and if that was a regular state with him, he could hardly be blamed for his actions. He'd seen kids on the street hooked on drugs; he knew what it did to you. But how could Quatre not have noticed? He was an empath for god's sake. And sex was one of the most intimate things you could do!

"Duo, why are you so angry? And afraid?"

"Dammit Quatre!" Duo snapped, slamming the tea kettle down on the counter and nearly breaking it. "You slept with him, didn't you!"

"What?" Quatre sounded horrified. "I don't know what you're talking about! Duo, I've never even thought about touching Heero like that."

"Oh yeah? Sure you didn't bang a little Asian number at Zech's party? Does the name Yamato Saito ring a bell?"

Quatre looked at him indignantly, as if he was going to contradict him, and then his face grew very pale. He just stood there, with his mouth open, not saying anything. Duo didn't have to read his mind to know exactly what Quatre was thinking.

"I knew it." Duo snarled. He didn't really want to be mad at Quatre, but he couldn't help it. How could Quatre have done that! He had to have known. He had to!

"Duo, Duo I didn't know!" Quatre said. "You've gotta believe me!"

Yeah, right.

Quatre could see that Duo didn't believe him. "No, really, I had no idea. You have to understand, my empathy's been shit since...well, you know. It's all over the place. I wasn't planning on doing anything at Zechs' party, honestly. But when I saw him...I couldn't help myself. Out of everyone in that entire party, his was the only mind that was clear. I know it was probably the drugs, but he wasn't feeling anything. It was like a still pool of water in a boiling ocean storm. I didn't get anything from him emphatically. He didn't know who he was, so I didn't know. I'm sorry! Dammit Duo, don't cry!"

Duo hadn't realized until that moment that tears were running down his cheeks. If only somehow Quatre had known, Heero would have been with them more then a year ago. It was unreasonable to expect Quatre to have known – he wasn't a mind reader, and after Trowa left, Quatre really hadn't been the same. But Duo couldn't help feeling angry and bitter at all his friends. It felt like everyone had been part of Heero's life since he'd left them, except for him. Was it his fault for trying to get over it, for seeking out Demetri's companionship, for looking to someone else to feel that empty void inside him?

"I'm fine." He lied, filling the kettle again, and willing his hands to stop shaking. He put the kettle back on the stove, gently this time, and then leaned against the counter, wringing his hands together and wishing he dared get the cigarettes out of Heero's coat. Being high on pot would help things so much. Duo shivered and pushed those thoughts away. Was that how Heero felt all the time?

"No you're not. And you shouldn't be. I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry." Quatre sounded like his heart was going to break.

"Don't apologize for doing me." A rough voice came from behind them, and both Duo and Quatre looked up at him in shock and guilt. "I would've just gotten it from someone else anyways."

Heero stood in the bathroom door way, dripping wet from his shower, a towel slung around his thin waist, and another around his neck from where he had just tousled off his hair. He looked incredibly sexy, but at the same time, completely miserable. His expression was tired and resigned, as if he'd forever accepted his fate as the guy who everyone had done. It broke Duo's heart to see him like this.

"Heero, I -" Quatre trailed off, completely at a loss for words.

"Stop thinking about it." Heero said firmly.

He came over to Duo's side and reached out tentatively, squeezing Duo's hand for a moment, then letting go. Duo looked at him with hurt, uncertain eyes. Where did this leave them, and their fledgling relationship? Duo didn't know what he wanted, and Heero's eyes were cold stone fortresses, sealing his emotions deeply inside.

"I'm probably the worst friend ever." Heero said softly, before leaning into Duo and resting his cheek on Duo's chest. "I can't take back anything that I've done, or who I've done it with. Quatre probably won't be the last person that you run into that's slept with me. But if you can handle that, I'd still like to be friends. And talk about...whatever else there might be. I don't want to stop trying to be what we were...before."

Duo wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, scrubbing away the last of his tears. "You're not the worst friend ever."

"...if you say so."

"I'm not promising I'm not gonna get pissed, but I don't want to stop trying either." Duo said, fighting the urge to run his fingers through Heero's hair. Quatre was looking pretty uncomfortable already, and he didn't want to push it when Heero was willingly letting Duo into his personal space. Even when they'd been unofficially together before, Heero had always had trouble relaxing around Duo. He'd been miserable as far as public affection went. Maybe, just maybe, that meant Heero was going to stay.

Heero, Tuesday, April 1st, AC 204, 7 am

After a few moments of resting against Duo's chest, Heero remembered that Quatre was in the same room with them, and straightened up. He looked at Quatre awkwardly, and said, "Sorry." He really didn't know what had gotten into him. Maybe he was still high.

"It's uh...okay. Heero, can you forgive me, please? God, I didn't mean -" Quatre began again.

Heero held up a hand. "Just can it, okay? Did you treat me well?"

"...what?"

"Were you nice to me. Did you pay well?"

"Uh...yes?"

"Then forget about it. It was probably on of the best nights of my life back then, okay? So just...stop thinking about it." Heero said, a little desperately. "Look, I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, and I'm sure you didn't either. Could we just...go to bed and talk about it later?"

"Yeah, sure. I could go back to bed." Duo agreed, and Quatre nodded his assent.

"Good." Heero said. "You can sleep on the futon, if you want Quatre. It's comfortable, and I just washed the sheets yesterday."

"Thank you Heero, that would be fine. Tomorrow I'll check into a hotel; I know you guys don't have much room here." Quatre offered politely.

"That would probably be for the best..." Duo admitted. All of these new revelations about Quatre and Heero and everything else just made his head spin. He was grateful that Quatre had come and helped him through what would have otherwise been a very difficult night, but his presence was also uncomfortable. The relationship, if you could even call it that, between he and Heero was still very fragile.

Heero took his duffel bags out from under the futon and brought them into Duo's room. Since there was no room to change in the bathroom, and he doubted either Quatre or Duo would want to watch him get dressed, he headed into Duo's closet to put his pajamas on. He didn't bother with anything fancy, just loose black pants to sleep in. He didn't bother with a shirt.

He didn't really notice anything about Duo's closet until he was changed, and looked around to find out where Duo usually put his dirty clothes. Then he noticed that it was a walk-in, probably bigger their bathroom, and it was completely filled with clothes. There was no way Duo had worn even half of them. Besides the stuffed dresser in the bedroom, there was another dresser in the closet that was overflowing, and four sets of two racks bursting with clothes, one rack in each set hung just high enough above the other so the shirts hanging from them didn't touch. Shoe bins were arranged underneath, presumably to match the outfits they were stored under.

Heero put the wet towels in the basket he finally saw for them, crammed into the corner by the dresser. Then he went further into the closet, hardly believing that Duo could possibly have any reason to keep all of these clothes. In the very back of the closet was a rack that, if possible, was crammed full of more clothes then any other rack in the room. The first outfit on the rack was Duo's priest's clothes, and that rather sexy leather jacket he'd worn during the Maremaia incident. Obviously he was too tall now to wear any of them, but they were mended and pressed with loving care. The entire rest of the rack, however, was an ode to Heero's former life.

All the clothes he'd left behind (which had been everything except what he'd been wearing at the time) were here, as if he'd never gone away. Heero stared in awe at his former war outfit, tank top worn and stained, all the rips patiently stitched together. All of his clothes were like that; his Preventer's uniform, his off-duty clothes, all mended until they were in better shape then they had been when he'd worn them. Heero had worn all of them until they were threadbare, or Duo bought him new ones, and most of them had been full of holes when he'd left.

His Preventer's jacket stood out to him. Heero rubbed the worn camo between his fingers. The jacket still smelled like him; a mixture of grease, sweat, metal, blood and the sandalwood shampoo he'd insisted on using at the time. It also smelled faintly of lavender.

Not only was the jacket clean and mended, but it was covered in hundreds of the decorations he'd earned in his time with the Preventers. All five of them had earned more awards then the knew what to do with when the war was over, as part of Relena's plan to paint them into heroes in the public view. Duo had put his in a box for safe-keeping; Heero had thrown his away. At least, he'd thought he had. But here they were, all pinned to his uniform.

He'd hated all those decorations at the time. He hadn't felt like he deserved any of them; he was just doing what he'd been raised to do. At least half of them he'd earned while high on some street drug or another, trying desperately to keep up appearances. They were reminders of all of his personal failures, and his haunted past. He was going to brush past the jacket, when his eye caught a reflection off a medal he knew he'd never seen before. It was a small, unobtrusive star, made of a white metal that was scarred and scorched, and what looked like the beginning of a serial number on one side. It had an inscription which read "Shinigami's Wingman." If it wasn't a piece of Heero's Gundam, he was the Queen of England. He knew that number, and that scorched metal better then any other piece of scrap in that world. He'd almost died in it. The jacket was down off the hanger and in Heero's hands before he even realized what he was doing.

He walked out of the closet in a daze. It must have taken Duo months, to find a salvageable piece of Gundanium from the wreckage of their self-destructed suits. The etching would have taken even longer, because the only way to cut Gundanium was with another piece of Gundanium. They didn't exactly make precision drills of the stuff. He would have had to find another piece with a fine enough point to cut into it, and done the etching by hand, a process of several weeks at least.

"Duo..." He said when he'd gotten out into the kitchen. "When did you make this?"

"Damn. You found that, huh?"

Heero just gave him a look.

"So you found the whole Yuy Shrine, then." Duo said, clearly embarrassed. "I uh, made it for you for Christmas, and after you left, I just hung onto it. If you couldn't tell from the rest of the closet, I'm kind of a clothes-whore. It's stupid, right? You hated all those medals."

Duo's words were brave, but Heero thought he looked defensive, scared even. That jacket clearly meant a lot to him. "Back when I lived with you, I probably wouldn't have appreciated it." Heero admitted. Duo's face fell. "But I think we can all agree I was a dick. This jacket, it's amazing. Do you mind if I wear it?"

"You really want to?" Duo grinned. That's freaking amazing."

"I'd like to think I've learned something since last time." Heero said ruefully.

"I'm glad."

"Let me just go put it with my clothes." Heero said, turning to put his new jacket with his bag.

"Holy shit." Duo said. "When did you get that tattoo?"

Duo was referring to his back tattoo. He'd gotten four wings done on his back some time ago, in memory of Zero. "I don't remember." Heero said honestly. "At least a few years ago. They look better if I'm not so skinny."

"It must have taken them forever." Duo said. He came over to stand behind Heero and lightly traced his back with his fingers. Every single feather was picked out with exquisite detail – it was a work of art.

"I was probably sleeping with the tattoo artist. I doubt I could have afforded it otherwise."

Duo seemed to realize at that moment that he was stroking Heero's back. He pulled his fingers away like he'd been shocked, then cleared his throat.

"So, um, tonight...how -"

"I can fall asleep in someone else's bed you know." Heero interrupted, before Duo embarrassed himself too much.

"What?"

"Usually I have to be pretty high to sleep with clients. But with you, well, I'm sure I'll sleep fine. Unless you don't want me to sleep in your bed?"

"No, no, it's fine. I mean, I want to – I mean, it's fine."

Heero suddenly remembered that Duo had a boyfriend. "Demetri isn't going to flip out, is he?"

"No, no." Duo said quickly. "It'll be fine. We're off and on...and we're off right now. It's casual. It's fine." He seemed nervous and upset; he didn't sound like he wanted to talk about it.

"Lets just go to bed, okay?"

"Yeah, sure."

Heero slid into Duo's bed, smelling the scent of Duo all around him. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed that smell until he was back here in Duo's bed, where he hadn't been in years. Even when they'd lived together after the war, he hadn't slept with Duo much – his PTSD had been so bad at that point he'd been afraid of hurting Duo in his sleep.

He propped himself up on his elbow and watched Duo get undressed. Duo's face turned red, but he didn't say anything, or turn around would have to see Heero's stare either. Duo had filled out a lot since the war. He wasn't skinny and wiry like he had been before – he was tall and muscular and well-fed. He still had dozens of scars – they all did, but Duo's were faded, and didn't detract from his look – they made him look tough and sexy.

"You like what you see?" Duo asked when he slipped into bed in only his boxers.

"You might say that." Heero smirked.

Duo snorted and turned away from him. The bed was large – it took up nearly the entire room – but there still wasn't enough space between them. Heero's nerves tangled with every shift in the bed, the sheets were like fire against his skin. Duo's scent was all around him, pulling his brain back to that night during the war, the night that once remembered, refused to leave him again.

Duo sighed first. "God, this is impossible. I'm never going to be able to fall asleep."

Heero started to get up. "I'll sleep on the floor."

Duo's hand on his arm stopped him. "Don't. Just...c'mere."

Heero lowered himself back into bed, and then had to bite back a yelp when Duo pulled him close, so his head was laying on Duo's chest.

"What are you doing? How is this going to help?" He snapped.

"You were thinking about it, weren't you? Me being so close, but not touching you. Well, now we are. Touching that is. So just...relax."

Heero started to argue, and then settled into Duo's shoulder subconsciously. He shut his mouth. It really was comfortable – not like sleeping on the job at all. He trusted Duo. Hell, he trusted Duo more then himself at this point. So why not just sleep here?

He settled some more, squirming around for the most comfortable spot. Duo finally lifted his arm and put it around Heero's waist, which was a bit startling, but it created a very comfortable spot between Duo's shoulder and chest. And really, what was he complaining about? Duo could hold him if he wanted to. It wasn't a big deal...Heero drifted off, feeling safe, warm and loved. This was a feeling he'd only experience once before - eight years ago in the arms of the very same man. Why had he ever left?

End Chapter Eleven

Author's Notes: Well, I had some real life shit going on so this is late, I'm sorry. But it's way longer then the last chapter and a lot of new shit happens, so enjoy that!

As usual, I'm my own beta reader so if you catch some mistakes let me know. I've been fixing some consistency changes as I go along, and when the fic is all done I'll probably re-post everything. Any big fixes I promise I'll alert you guys about.

Zethsaire, out!
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