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Violence plus Sex equals Love (remake)	By : shinigamiinochi Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2801 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I make no profit from this story and do not own Gundam Wing. All similarities between fictional characters and real people is coincidental.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter 2: Stalking
Ever since the church had brought him in when he was six, Duo had sat in on ever sermon, every mass, every lecture that Father Maxwell had given to the other orphans. He had soaked it all up when he had been younger, how a good boy was supposed to behave, all the things that would send him to hell and all the things that God, along with Father Maxwell and Sister Helen, would love him for. Father Maxwell had often talked about a hot, fiery hell, where demons and your worst nightmares tormented you for the rest of eternity. But, Duo now knew what his hell would look like, and it had nothing to do with flames of heat. Hell would be walking into an unfamiliar place and suddenly have the eyes of every person on him, like flames of their own burning into his soul. Hell was wondering if they were thinking cruel things about his strange colored eyes, if they were planning on coming up to talk to him.

Hell was stumbling around, being surrounded by his fellow classmates, to the front office and trying to ask for his schedule and where his first class was, but all he could do was stutter uselessly. The stutter didn�t happen a lot, mostly when he was very embarrassed and stressed, but it made things worse for him as he knew what an idiot he sounded like. The lady handing out the schedules had understood, though, and had taken pity on him, simply asking for his last name, then handing him the piece of paper. He had then stumbled back out, feeling like a complete moron, and trying not to let any of the other kids touch him as he pushed through the crowd.

Thankfully, it wasn�t very hard to find his homeroom. He could still feel eyes on him as he walked, but kept his head down and pretended to be concentrating on his schedule. Maybe, if everyone thought he was busy reading, they wouldn�t try to talk to him. He finally looked away from his schedule as he found the fifth classroom from the bathrooms, just like the lady at the front office had said. It was a mirror image of the classrooms he had seen on television, a blackboard at the front, a large teacher�s desk, about twenty smaller desks, some occupied, and the room covered with posters and past student projects. Several of the other teenagers looked up as he entered, the conversations dropping into silence.

Duo could feel his chest starting to hurt and immediately kept his eyes to the floor, walking quickly to the closest free desk he could get to, up against the wall near the door. A quick exit was exactly what he needed. What he wanted, though, was one of the desks near the window, so he could look outside, but that was too far away. He would have to pass by other students to get there and the anxiety of that was too much for him. The desk chair reminded him of the chairs in the kitchen of the church, all hard and uncomfortable to sit on, but sturdy. He put his schedule on the desk and just stared at it, once again praying to God to just, please, make the other kids stop staring at him. The only thing worse than the staring were the whispers that were barely whispers at all, no one caring to hide the fact that they were gossiping about him.

�� never seen him around before��

�� what is up with that dorky hat?�

�� what�s wrong with his eyes?�

�� Man, those clothes� does he think he�s a hobo or somethin�?�

Duo focused on his schedule with an obsessive intensity as he could feel a feverish blush spread across his pale face. He wished that he was a girl, that he could have long hair without it looking so weird and let it drape around him, let it hide him from the world. Homeroom, he read off the piece of paper, was in the same block as Biology, so they must be the same, or in the same room or something. A laugh that he knew was aimed at him made his heart constrict painfully.

�Please, oh, please, God, don�t let me have an attack, not here,� he prayed, �That will just make them think I�m even weirder.�

Duo had never had the intention of making friends here, but the snickers from his classmates were still painful. The life of a loner was both comforting and sad to him. He continued to read, wishing he had brought a book or something, but that would probably just make them laugh harder. �Look at the dumb bookworm!� Next was Literature and Grammar. Why couldn�t they just call that English? That one might be hard. He wasn�t mentally challenged, but he had always had a hard time remembering the words for words, like verbs and adjectives and stuff.

Third period, European history, fourth period, Algebra, that one would be fun. He would never admit it, though. Kevin always said that he was good with numbers, but that if he ever told someone that, they might call him a geek. Teenagers weren�t supposed to be good at math, but numbers and equations had always seemed comforting to him. Either you got an answer right or wrong, it was all black and white. And there was always an answer, unlike with art or literature, which was all what you thought of something. Numbers didn�t lie, they had set values, they could only be what was in their nature to be, unlike people, who you could never really understand. Best of all, everything in the world needed math to work. That was an even more comforting thought to him, that he might be good at something that someone else needed.

Not really, a doubting voice in his head sneered at him. Someone will always be better than you. Among a bunch of kids and uneducated orphans, you might be good at something. Here, you�re just a dumb shit, the same six year old that your daddy called a good for nothing. Duo chewed on his lip, feeling his heart rate increase and the pain deepen. Fifth period, Music Choice. What the hell was Music Choice? He hoped that he wouldn�t have to sing or read sheet music. The only instrument he knew how to play was the piano and, sometimes, Sister Helen let him play for services. He had played during quite a few funerals and wasn�t that bad at it, but he was too self-conscious to try to sing in front of anyone and he could only play by ear. If he heard someone else play something, or heard it on the radio, he could repeat it, but had no idea what those black dots and lines were supposed to be.

Sixth period, Drawing and Painting, seventh period, Gym. Duo breathed in relief. His doctor�s note felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. Just another reason for his classmates to think that he was a freak, but at least he wouldn�t have to deal with it until the end of the day. As he kept his eyes trained on the paper, trying to memorize what classrooms each was in, Duo realized that the room was starting to become full with other kids, almost all of the seats taken. He glanced at a few in the corner of his eye. A lot of them were wearing t-shirts with almost offensive slogans and designer jeans. Most of the girls were attached at the hand to a shiny cellphone, texting or talking loudly. Duo had never seen one outside of the television or in the hands of some stranger. Not even Kevin had a cheap one.

It made him feel self-conscious again as he quickly realized that he could never really have anything in common with these kids. They had clothes that he could never hope to afford, easy going smiles, and almost pompous attitudes. Hell, they had parents. A real home. They probably had pets and, in a few years, would be handed the keys to their own cars. For his own driver�s test, if he had one, Duo would have to drive Father Maxwell�s ancient, beat up Toyota, just like Kevin. Being friends with people like that seemed impossible to him. Before long, a woman walked into the room, a large, canvas bag slung off of one shoulder. She walked to the large desk at the front of the room and put the heavy bag on the flat surface. She smiled bubbly at everyone and the teenagers, little by little, sat down, quieting just a little bit.

�Hello, class!� she said in a chipper tone that Duo wasn�t familiar with.

His classmates echoed back their hellos, but Duo stayed quiet. He didn�t really know what to expect here, just that this was his teacher and he should respect her. A few of the other freshman even seemed to know her name, maybe from older siblings. Duo hunched in on himself. His heart sped up again. The teacher launched into a long spiel about how much fun they were going to have together, that she expected them to be on their best behavior, but if they had a question, not to be afraid of coming to her. Duo doubted all of it. Thick textbooks were handed out to everyone and Duo spent the next few minutes flipping through his. It was different from the textbooks Sister Helen had used to teach him, thicker and without scribbles on the margins or pictures.

�Now, then,� the teacher said brightly, clapping her hands together, �Since this is your first day at high school, I want to us to spend some time getting to know each other. I�m Mrs. Donnell,� she introduced herself, putting a hand on her chest, and her smile widening, �and my favorite thing to do in my spare time is to work on my vegetable garden.�

Duo was really starting to hate this teacher and her too sweet smile.

�I want all of you to stand up, tell us your name, and the one thing you love to do more than anything. We�ll start here,� she gestured at the first row, near that window.

Duo felt his heart plummet into his stomach, all the while squeezing and pounding, a sharp pain filling him. He had to stand up in front of all these people and actually speak? They were all going to look at him� look at him and judge him by whatever he said� what he liked to do most? What should he say? How should he introduce himself? Would he make an idiot of himself? The first boy in the first row stood up.

�My name is Jason Royles and I like to play football!� he said with a beaming smile.

So easy, without a care, just� blurting that out� Why couldn�t it be that easy for him? One by one, each freshman stood and spoke the same way, like it was nothing at all, as Duo�s heart started to beat faster and faster with each classmate that went closer to his turn. What should he say, what should he say�

�Hi, my name is Duo Maxwell and my favorite thing to do in my spare time is teach Bunny, a five year old who lives at the orphanage with me, how to count. I also enjoy reading to her and taking car rides with Kevin. He�s another orphan��

Duo felt his heart restrict in a twisting motion that he knew wasn�t actually happening, it just felt that way. It sounded stupid, even in his head, even if it was the truth. Football, painting, hanging out with friends, listening to music� those answers sounded a thousand times more normal and exciting than his. Hell, it would sound stupid even if he lied and said that Bunny was his little sister. Who liked hanging out with little kids anyway?

But, he felt so good when he spent time with her and taught her things. She would smile up at him so brightly, so happy, so completely unaware of the scar on her face, unlike how he saw his hair or his eyes, and Duo would feel happy, too. Or when he and Kevin were just driving around, not having any place to go like these kids, to the movies or a friend�s house, just listening to rock music on the radio and driving. But if he said that, he would get laughed at� before he knew it, the girl in front of him was standing up, saying her name and something about her computer. It was his turn. A sharp pain stabbed at his heart. He could feel its beats in his head. One, two, three, faster than it should be.

Duo stumbled to his feet and his sneaker slammed against one of the legs of the desk. He tripped, but managed to right himself as he grabbed at the desk desperately. The room erupted with laughter. One, two� three. His heart skipped a beat, then another, before finally returning to its maddening pace. His chest hurt with this intense pressure.

�Settle down,� Mrs. Donnell snapped at her students, suddenly not looking so bubbly.

Duo�s body shook as he felt mocking eyes on him. This was wrong. He needed to say something. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to be doing now? Right� his name� Duo Jordan� no� that was the wrong one, it was the other one now� God, why was this so hard? Couldn�t He just give him a hint?

�M-m-my na-a-me is�� Duo breathed hard, feeling his face turning a brilliant red as a few students snickered at his stuttering.

The words wouldn�t come to him. His throat convulsed with his heart. One� �. Two�

��Duo� M� Maxwell,� he finally managed to speak, but felt no relief from it.

There was something else he was supposed to say, he knew that, but his throat closed down again and his lungs wouldn�t cooperate. He was going to throw up. His stomach clenched with his heart. Would it stop? He hated this. He didn�t want to be here. He wanted to go home, where he was loved and no one made fun of him and he never, ever stuttered. This was a bad idea. He never should have come here. Home schooled was fine. Why was he here? He never wanted to come back here�

Duo saw the teacher gesture to the person behind him, eager to move on, not out of kindness for his embarrassment, but out of irritation. Shame filled him. He couldn�t even stand up and say one full sentence . He was so pathetic�

�What a freak,� he heard a girl next to him whisper to another girl and felt dizzy all of a sudden.

Duo spent the rest of Biology concentrating on the teacher�s voice and trying to steady his breath, feeling utterly miserable at his failure. He couldn�t do this. He was going to fail, every day here. He would let his classmates get to him, just like he had let those orphans get to him his first nights at the church, he would have heart failure and get bad grades� he would have to go home today and tell everyone that he had failed. He couldn�t go to school. Sister Helen had been right. They would all be so disappointed in him; Sister Helen, Father Maxwell, Bunny, and Kevin� that was the worst part, knowing that he would go home and would have to see that look in their eyes, them realizing that he wasn�t worthy to be there, to be loved by them. He had screwed up, again, story of his life.

Duo came back to reality as he heard the teacher drone on about how they would spend the rest of homeroom and biology taking the placement tests for science and that the results of these tests would determine if they stayed in this class or not, though the textbook would stay the same. She explained that most of them would stay in this class, which was average, but others would be stuck in remedial or advanced classes, depending on their scores. Duo clutched at his jeans, feeling his hands trembling a little. If he really was going to give up, he should leave right now. What was the point of taking a placement test if he wasn�t going to stay? He didn�t want to be told that he was below average anyway. Suddenly, like a ringing shot, Duo heard Father Maxwell�s voice in his head, loud and clear.

�Duo� what is it that you want?�

What was it that he wanted�

�All you have to worry about is doing your best. If you do that, none of us will have anything to complain about.�

Duo unclenched his hands. He took a deep, slow breath and focused slowly on his beating heart, feeling the tension and pain leave him, little by little. He wanted to make Sister Helen proud of him. He wanted to be a good boy and prove to her that she had made the right decision in adopting him. He wanted to do his best and prove to everyone, even himself, that he was worth it. He couldn�t do that if he gave up now. If he did, he would only be reinforcing all his deepest fears about himself, that he was just a worthless screw up. That all the bad things in his life were his fault.

�You will be given the results of the tests by the end of this class,� Mrs. Donnell was saying, �Below average is zero to fifty points. Average is fifty-one to seventy-five. Above average is seventy-six to one-hundred. If you receive below or above average scores, you will be required to visit the front office for a new room assignment at the end of the day. Be advised that you will be taking similar placement tests in your grammar and math classes.�

A unified groan filled the room and Duo nearly joined them. He didn�t mind so much taking the tests as the idea that he would have to get another schedule, making the one he had useless after today. It seemed like a lot of hassle, but he supposed it was better than being put in the wrong class.

�You should try to fill out every answer, even if you aren�t sure of your work,� the teacher advised as she handed out the test.

Duo dug a pencil out of his bag and steeled himself as he looked at the test. He couldn�t mess this up. As long as he tried� no one would be disappointed in him. He clung to that thought desperately.
*****
Duo�s Literature and Grammar class proved to not be any better than his Biology and Homeroom one. He had a male teacher this time, but the man had had a similar, placating smile and stupid meet and greet games. Prepared this time, Duo was at least able to stand up without tripping and speak his name coherently, but again his heart raced, he blushed furiously, and he was unable to come up with anything to say about himself beyond his name. This time, the teacher tried to encourage him to speak more by asking questions and, when Duo still refused to say anything, had given up in frustration which had filled Duo with a deep self-hatred and shame. If this kept up, all of his teachers were going to be disgusted with him. The grammar textbook was slightly smaller than his bio one and they were simply given their literature texts in the form of bi-weekly novels. This weeks was relatively small and beat-up looking from past students.

The grammar placement test was harder than the biology one. It consisted of fifty sentences that they had to correct for grammar and punctuation. Duo started fine, but after the tenth sentence, started to second guess all his answers and spent most of the class period erasing perfectly fine corrections and agonizing over them. It was a relief to be handed his placement test back with his score and to get out of the room. It was almost a confidence booster to see his scores. A seventy-three on his bio test and a seventy on his grammar. At least he wasn�t a moron and didn�t have to switch his rooms around. European History, his first class that he didn�t have to take a placement test for, was boring to him, consisting of an elderly teacher droning on about textbooks and syllabuses. He didn�t ask for their names, admitting he would only forget them later on, so they were to stay in their assigned seats, so he need only look at a chart to remember them. Then, he entered his Algebra class and by the end of it, had thought he had died and gone to heaven.

His teacher, a woman with a severe and serious look to her, had no bubbly smile or words for encouragement for them. She looked at each of her students as they took their seats clinically and coldly, as though she were analyzing them. She looked like the sort of person who would yell at him if he messed up like he had in his last two classes, so when she simply handed out the placement tests, instead of playing more stupid, embarrassing name games, Duo felt an immense relief. Despite her no-nonsense demeanor, Duo wanted to like her for not putting him in a position where he would have to embarrass himself again, plus she was teaching the one subject that he really felt confident in.

�My name is Luka Harrison. You are to call me Mrs. Harrison, not Luka or Harry or Harrietta, or any other nickname you can think of. I teach the advanced Algebra 1 and 2 courses so, for most of you, I won�t be seeing you again. Most of you will be moving two classrooms over to Mr. Hendrickson. For those few with high scores, I have one simple rule: respect me and I will respect you. Understand that and we will have a good relationship. I highly suggest you fill out every question and show all of your work. You may not use calculators.�

Several students groaned loudly, but Duo was grateful. He didn�t have a calculator and didn�t know, if he asked for one, if he would be given one. A few other teenagers around Duo groaned as Mrs. Harrison passed out the tests and saw the long strings of equations, like a foreign language that they couldn�t understand. For Duo, it was more like a second way to speak. He understood all the symbols and felt excited, knowing he was about to tackle something that would be a challenge, but not impossible for him. One boy finished before Duo and he raised his hand to indicate he was done. The teacher took his test from him and continued to walk down the rows of desks, keeping a sharp eye on her students, making sure no one was cheating. Duo finished a minute later, but stayed still.

Ever since he had come into the school this morning, Duo had felt paralyzed, unable to speak or do anything. He felt that way now. He knew he was supposed to raise his hand, but as ridiculous as it was, he couldn�t even do that much. He thought that if just one other student raised their hand, then he could, too. But no one did. He sat there and just stared ahead at a poster that had a multiplication table on it. The numbers with the equals symbol was almost soothing, but he felt nervous. He mentally berated himself. Just raise your hand, he thought, just do what you�re supposed to do and it will be fine. But he couldn�t. He was sure that twenty, maybe thirty minutes would pass before someone else would raise their hands when, suddenly, the teacher was at his side, looking down at his work.

He nearly jumped, then kept his head down. When he glanced at her, she smiled at him and Duo felt startled. The middle aged woman�s face turned kind and warm when she smiled and he knew that it was a rare thing to her. It soothed him for a moment as she took his test from him. She knew. She understood. Above all else, she hadn�t made a fuss once she had realized how shy and nervous he was, just giving him a kind smile. It reminded him of Sister Helen and that familiarity made him feel better. She then left him to continue her perusal of the other students, but he felt as though he had met with her approval somehow, without them having had to speak to each other.

The rest of the class passed slowly as, one by one, the rest of the students finished with their tests. Duo spent the time staring at the various posters and going over his answers in his head. Mrs. Harrison was efficient with correcting the tests and quickly started to call each of them up, in alphabetic order. Most of them were given no textbook and were quickly dismissed, having gotten average or below average scores. Three other students, two boys and a girl, were given thick books and an approving nod. When it was Duo�s turn, he was grateful to see that most of his classmates had left. Most of his classmates had last names that started with K or C. Now, when he shuffled up to the teacher�s desk, there were fewer eyes on him. Mrs. Harrison smiled up at him again and handed him his test back.

�It looks like we�ll be seeing a lot of each other, Mr. Maxwell,� she said with a smile that Duo could swear was affectionate.

He accepted the test and textbook numbly, a blush spreading over his face at the compliment. The score on his test seemed to glare up at him in red marker. 89. His heart beat with that number. He felt nervous, embarrassed, and deliriously happy with the teacher�s unspoken approval and impressed air. He couldn�t help but give her a small smile.

�Thank you, Mrs. Harrison,� he murmured, then quickly left the classroom before his face could combust.

Mrs. Harrison continued to smile, but shook her head sadly. Duo was such a painfully shy boy, so different from the arrogant, cocksure boys she usually taught. His answers, along with the time it had taken him to complete them, proved to her that the boy had intelligence, but he didn�t appear to have been taught a great deal of math before or she was sure he would have gotten all of them right. A good boy, the kind that actually cared about learning things, though very quiet. He was the sort of student that she actually enjoyed teaching. She caught one of the remaining girls showing another girl something on her cellphone, the two of them snickering.

�Put that away!� she snapped.

She didn�t care if she was about to dismiss them, the both of them having gotten poor scores, but detested the mobile devices in her classroom. The two girls parted, one looking guilty. The one with the cellphone had the audacity to glare at the teacher, but still put it back in her pocket. A shy, intelligent boy like Duo with these jackals� she would have to look out for him.
*****
Duo kept the happiness that his above-average score had given him all the way to the cafeteria for lunch. He gripped the strap of his book bag as he walked into the lunch room and immediately froze. The large room with its large windows and long tables was incredibly loud, even louder than the church during Christmas when the patrons and orphans sang Joyful, Joyful. Kids ran this way and that and the middle of the room had two lines leading into the area where food could be bought. The tables were crowded and there was no way Duo could sit anywhere without touching someone.

Duo backed out of the doorway, refusing to try to eat in there. He was thankful that he had a bagged lunch and didn�t have to stand in that loud line to buy something. He hunted for somewhere to eat his meal in peace, trying not to get lost, and found himself at the school�s library. He worried that the librarian wouldn�t let him eat there, as Father Maxwell often yelled at the kids about bringing food into his own study, but she simply smiled brightly at him and showed him some empty tables near the computers, the tables blocked from view by tall stacks of books.

The books fascinated him, not because he was an avid reader, but because the church had so few of them. Mostly, they were bibles or children�s storybooks, nothing for a teenager to read. They got a few novels from book drives that the church put on, but they had never seemed interesting to Duo, books about flowers or old pieces of sheet music, trashy romances and dime a doze mysteries. He had tired of them years back, all tattered and marked up. He had been excited at first when Sister Helen had presented him with a stack of novels one year when he was twelve, now that he knew how to read and had been enthralled with the idea of something that was just his, only to open them and find ripped pages, full lines marked with pen or highlighter. He remembered distinctly that it had made him angry, that the church only ever got something once people had tired of it, or it had become too marked up to be pretty anymore. Kind of like the orphans themselves. Just like sweet, little Bunny.

These books fascinated Duo because they weren�t for little kids. They were all kinds of sizes and colors, but the spines were in tact. These were books that weren�t tossed away, but had been bought brand new. He tentatively took one book from the stack at random. It wasn�t all that thick and it looked as though no one had read it yet. The cover and title immediately interested him. He was so used to books with colorful covers, pictures telling you everything you needed to know about the plot. This book, titled �Season of Migration to the North�, which was a bizarre title of itself, simply had a painting of what looked like a deer with curved antlers desperately trying to swim in a river and failing miserably, its head barely above the water.

Intrigued by the strange cover, Duo spent his lunch period eating the peanut butter, jelly, and banana sandwich Sister Helen had made for him and reading each page as slowly as he could. With the cover, he had thought the book might be about wildlife, like birds migrating for the winter or something. Instead, it was about a man who had traveled to Europe returning to his village to meet this strange man, Mustafa, who had also traveled, and the narrator�s attempts to rejoin his village life, but struggling to do so. The way it was written was strange, using words and names Duo had never heard before, but in a way that made him feel what the narrator was feeling, the longing and strangeness, mixed with alien familiarity. But maybe that was kind of because he understood what that was like, feeling like an alien amongst people who were supposed to be your family.

Or rather, it was like that night, so long ago� returning home, only to find out that it wasn�t home anymore, and your family wasn�t really your family, but they were. You still loved them, but they were different and strange to you. Like the image, burned into his brain these past nine years. His father, with eyes half lidded, hanging from his bedroom ceiling, staring at him accusingly and he, not running from the horrifying sight, but sitting on the floor and staring back. Almost like he was frozen on the spot, or perhaps, like he was trying to punish himself�

�I remembered what the priest had said to me when I was on my way to Cairo: �All of us, my son, are in the last resort traveling alone.��

Duo felt a sharp, indescribable pain fill his heart and he closed the book quickly. Those words burned into him, like the last image he had of his father, and he felt a deep sadness, though he wasn�t sure why. The book reminded him of that song by the Rolling Stones, �Laugh, I Nearly Died.� �I�ve been travelin�/ But I don�t know where / I�ve been missing you, but you just don�t care / And I�ve been wandering / I�ve seen Greece and Rome / Lost in the wilderness / So far from home.� (1) He had always loved that song, though it made him sad. This book was like that, too.

The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch. Duo sighed. He had barely gotten anywhere in the book and wanted to see where it went. He got up to put it back on the shelf. Maybe he could come back here again and read it every lunch. That would be nice.

�You can take that out, if you like,� the librarian said, suddenly appearing near him.

Duo flinched, then stared at her, not sure of her words.

�I can� take it?� he asked, confused.

�Yes,� she said, smiling in amusement, �We�re just like any other library. You can take any book you like home with you, for a limited time, of course. Well, except for the reference books.�

Duo continued to stare at her, his violet eyes wide. He had rarely been to a library, and while he knew you could take out books, he didn�t have a card and he wasn�t aware that school libraries did that.

�Can I?� he asked, dazed.

He imagined taking the pristine book back with him, to where such nice things often got destroyed. He would have to hide it or something.

�In fact,� the blonde woman said, �We only lend books for three days, but with that one, you can have it for as long as you like, granted you bring it back at the end of this semester. You have a trustworthy face.�

Duo was immediately skeptical. He didn�t care what kind of face he had, he really didn�t think adults broke rules for kids they didn�t even know.

�Why?� he felt compelled to ask.

�You�re the first student to actually take that book out,� she said sadly, �It�s been here for two years, but it isn�t the sort of thing most students read recreationally. A few senior English classes taught it,� she pointed to the red sticker on the spine that labeled it as mature reading, something only the juniors and seniors could read, �but it�s more of a book for college classes than high school. It�s nice to see someone take an interest in it. Would you like to take it out?�

Duo nodded eagerly. In his excitement over the book, he didn�t even realize that he was perfectly calm, though he was talking to a stranger, and he wasn�t stuttering. The librarian led him over to her desk where he had to sign his name and phone number. She stamped the little card in the book that had been crisp and clean before, then let him leave. He felt strange as he put the book as gently as he could into his backpack, like he was stealing it, but also felt an odd eagerness to go home and read more of it. The book might not be his, but it kind of felt like it was. Outside the library, the halls were crowded again and Duo hesitantly joined the stream of traffic to his fifth class.

With his placement tests all over with, Duo didn�t really know what to expect with his music and art classes, but they weren�t too bad. Music Choice was exactly that. Instead of a class room, on his schedule the class area was simply marked �theatre�, which had been easy enough to find. The theatre had been crowded with students, but Duo saw that they were all being divided into three separate classes, not just one huge one. Most of them had no musical experience and ended up in chorus, which Duo thought was probably the easiest. Anyone could sing, even if you were tone death. Once one of the teachers involved had heard that Duo could play the piano, however, she had gotten incredibly excited and had placed him with the orchestra group.

To Duo�s immense relief, the orchestra teacher didn�t ask him to play in front of the class, but called them one by one to a smaller room with an instrument of their choice for private rehearsals. In Duo�s eyes, this was a lot like the placement tests, just another way he was going to be judged. It didn�t bother him all that much because, though he wasn�t overly confident about his piano playing, it made him feel a lot better that only the teacher would have to hear him play. And best of all, he wouldn�t have to sing. The orchestra teacher was a short, thirty-something blonde man with a very slight lisp and, Duo had heard a few girls talking, flamboyantly gay. That sort of explained the rainbow tie he was wearing, although the rest of his suit was like the other male teachers.

Duo knew he should be uncomfortable with that fact, he had often heard Sister Helen say that gay men were often perverts, but he didn�t really believe that. For one, Sister Helen also said that God loved you, no matter what, and Duo didn�t want to believe that God would make you gay, knowing how mean people could be about it, and still claim to love you. Secondly, he knew that Mr. Wilson, the man who ran the little theater near the church that he and Kevin often went to was gay and he had always been nice to them, not weird or pervy. Sometimes he let them into movies for free and one time, when Duo was really little, he had shown them the projection room, but hadn�t done anything weird. His boyfriend was nice, too, and told them funny stories about his wacky parents.

Mr. Baccello was nice, too. Duo didn�t feel nervous and awkward around him like his other teachers, because he seemed so casual. He had been nervous at first, when he had told the teacher that he didn�t know how to read sheet music, but the man hadn�t batted an eye at that, simply telling him to show him what he could do. Mr. Baccello didn�t seem like a pervert to him, just slightly eccentric, and a bit brave. There was no way Duo would have been able to walk into school wearing a rainbow tie.

He wasn�t sure why, but just knowing that the music teacher could be here and hadn�t been fired for being� his way made him feel better. He couldn�t be annoyed with Sister Helen about her beliefs, even though they did bother him sometimes. He had always believed what she said, so even if she was wrong about this, he couldn�t bring himself to think anything else she might have told him was wrong. It was too complicated to think that way, so he just stopped thinking about it all together.

The piano in this separate room reminded Duo of the one in the church. Unlike the organ that they had, it had nicks and scratches on it, the seat wobbled constantly, and the piano itself often had to be retuned, sometimes twice in one day. This one was in tune, however, and when Mr. Baccello told him to play him two songs, Duo immediately launched into Le Chante Pour Passer le Temps (2), which the teacher seemed impressed with, though Duo had struggled with the last few minutes of the complicated song, then Fur Elise. The blonde teacher stopped him halfway through this song.

�That�s all well and good,� he said with a soft smile, �But how about something more modern, something� fun?�

Both of the songs that Duo had chosen were favorites among the church�s parishioners and he always played Fur Elise during a funeral, so it was one that he was good at. His face colored darkly at being stopped in mid-song, but when he saw that his teacher wasn�t annoyed with him or disappointed with his playing, he recovered. Maybe it was because he felt more confident behind a piano than sitting at a desk.

He racked his brain for something that he hadn�t been taught by Sister Helen for services. He had taught himself songs from off the radio and Cds that other orphans had, but none of them were solely for piano. He wished that he had someone who could play violin with him. Allison, a thirteen year old who had been with them for only a few months, had played with him often and had had a great talent for it, but he wasn�t really comfortable with playing with a stranger. He wasn�t sure why, after all, music was music, but it felt like an intrusion, playing with someone that he didn�t even know. He finally thought of something suitable and fun, though it wasn�t perfect, since he had no one to sing. The teacher clapped his hands and laughed as Duo started playing the piano part for Seasons of Love, the only Broadway song he knew how to play well.

�Perfect!� Baccello crowed happily.

By the end of the song, Duo was smiling, too. He couldn�t help it, it was contagious and started to think that maybe Music Choice wouldn�t be so bad, if he could somehow find the courage to play like this in front of everyone else. At least it would be more fun than playing in church where everyone was in a somber or grumpy mood for having to be up so early. It made him want to learn how to play more upbeat songs, since most of the songs he knew sounded sad or serious. The art class, on the other hand, he suffered through.

The height of Duo�s artistic talent consisted of stick figures, so being told by his annoyingly bubbly teacher, a blonde woman named Ms. Po, who had a tendency to hang all over her male students and gush over their work, to draw whatever he liked hadn�t helped. Like his last class, he didn�t feel the anxiety he had felt that morning, but attributed to the tall easels blocking everyone�s view of him. Still, though he hated painting as much as he hated his teacher�s weird, flippant personality, he prayed that it would never end. The threat of his last class loomed over him, making his chest start to hurt again, just a little bit.

He couldn�t run, couldn�t jump, he couldn�t even lift weights. The presence of his doctor�s note in his pocket prickled at him. It was required for every student to pass a physical fitness class, and it wasn�t like he didn�t want to play sports with the other kids, but since he had found out about his heart problem, he hadn�t actually done anything physically strenuous. He had spent most of his childhood being scolded by Sister about running around. He could easily remember her horror stories of the very first time his heart had failed and how close to death he had come. It haunted his nightmares sometimes. He still had that dream of his father chasing him and thrusting his hand inside of his chest, ripping his heart out.

He really shouldn�t feel so depressed about it, he knew that. It was worse to end up in the hospital again than just to be left out, especially since he was sure he wouldn�t be good at sports anyway. He was short and not all that strong. But it was just one more thing that set him apart from all the other boys his age. He was smaller than them, pale, shy, a nervous wreck, not as educated as them, he had no money, a bad heart, and all he could do was the warm up exercises in this class. It wasn�t just depressing, it was a waste of time. And it looked like fun, to run around, to be competitive.

As he walked into the gym, Duo saw that everyone was already in groups with their friends, some playing basketball while they waited for the teacher to show up. It hit him then, more than it ever had, even when he had first walked into the school that morning. He was alone. All these boys had friends and Duo would probably never be one of theirs. He was isolated, strange. A feeling of great loneliness washed over him, the same loneliness he had felt ever since he had watched his father bury a knife into his mother�s body. Just standing there in the gym, watching more lively boys having fun, Duo felt like a ghost, a shade of a living person.

Two boys shoved past him to get into the gym and Duo stumbled forward. His heart clenched at the feeling of being touched by strangers, but he was distracted as he caught the gym teacher striding out of his office. For a moment, with his short, brown hair and straight, authoritative posture, the teacher reminded Duo of Officer Brennen, the cop who had helped him so much the night his parents had died, finding him in his house and bringing him to the hospital. The officer had been a constant presence during his childhood, visiting Duo on holidays and his birthday, every so often when he could get away from his job and his own family. What few nice thing Duo had had were gifts from him, his nightlight, the sneakers he had outgrown last year, the calculator that one of the kids had accidentally stepped on, a bunch of sweaters that were still folded in his closet�

He and Officer Brennen had talked at a great length about Solo, who now was a shadow in his memory. It was hard to remember his face, what color his eyes were, but Brennen remembered those little things while Duo, when the face failed, could always remember Solo�s laugh, for some reason. They never talked about Duo�s father or what Brennen had found that night in Duo�s house. Sister Helen and Father Maxwell tried to talk about it, tried to pry the truth of that night from him, but Officer Brennen had always understood. It wasn�t the stress or Duo�s weak heart that kept them from talking about it, just the grief.

Duo shook his head. The gym teacher didn�t actually look anything like the police officer, just a glimmer. Brennen had died three years ago and it still brought him a great deal of sadness to think of him. He had gone on a domestic abuse call, only to find that some man had tied his kids to the legs of the kitchen table as he beat their mother to death with the butt of his loaded gun. He should have waited for backup, but he hadn�t been able to leave the kids there. He had gone in, got the kids out, and went back for the mother, not realizing she had already died. When he went back in, the man shot him in the head.

It reminded him so much of Solo, who had died to save his life, a life that surely wasn�t worth more than his own, but he had paid for it anyway. Solo and Brennen, the two men who had saved his life, in different ways. He wondered if, one day, he would wake up and he wouldn�t be able to remember either of their faces. That made him feel worthless. The people in his life that he loved kept dying, while he continued on. It didn�t seem fair that he was the one still alive, it wasn�t like he was anything special. He wasn�t even normal. That, one day, he might not be able to even remember the people who had given so much to see his worthless self continue on almost had him crying in the gymnasium. In the face of that, his anxiety over confronting his gym teacher about his heart condition seemed so utterly pathetic. Bit by bit, his sadness was replaced by a furious self-hatred.

Still, his heart quaked as he walked up to the tall, broad-chested man, note clutched in his shaking hands. He felt completely disgusted in himself at that moment and that feeling kept him from shaking any more than he already was. Again, he told himself that if he couldn�t even do this much, there was no point in going to school now, was there? The teacher noticed him walking forward and looked at him like a dog must look at an ant on the sidewalk, wondering what such a pathetic creature was doing walking towards it.

�S-sir,� Duo started to stutter.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to continue, though his chest was starting to hurt at the man�s imposing stare.

�I� I have a note,� he started.

�So?� the teacher said coldly, looking at him distrustfully.

Duo almost gave up then, his carefully constructed words silenced by the offhand remark. He practically shoved it at the man, the gym teacher having no choice but to grab it and rip it from Duo�s hands. For a moment, the man�s pompous attitude annoyed Duo and he found himself speaking without realizing what he was saying, as though he were having an out of body experience.

�I have a bad heart,� he said in irritation before he could stop himself, �I can�t exert myself too much, or my heart might stop. That�s a note from my doctor saying that.�

The minute he stopped speaking, Duo felt a chilling tremor go through him and he felt like throwing up for having spoken at all. The teacher finally looked at the note and, to Duo�s shock, snorted in disbelief at it.

�You aren�t serious, are you?� the teacher sneered, �I�ve gotten too many kids forging doctor�s notes to just nod like a monkey every time someone tells me they can�t take a phys ed class! Though, I have to admit, you�ve got some balls. �Cardiomyopathy�, I didn�t even think a baby like you could spell such a thing! Get your big brother or sister to write this for you?� the teacher jabbed Duo in the chest with his finger, �You think I�m so stupid that I�d believe a freshman�s got a heart problem? Someone should have taught ya how to lie, kid.�

Duo felt his heart twist up, like it was trying to do an impression of a pretzel and he could feel it pulsate weakly, but frantically, like it was trapped in a mesh, wire net and trying to get out, but couldn�t. His chest hurt from where the teacher had jabbed him, though it had nothing to do with that. The pain spread across his chest, but he refused to grip at it or let the man know about the distress he was feeling. His childish instincts were telling him to just apologize, to do whatever the teacher wanted him to do, then nothing bad would happen, but he knew that that wasn�t going to work this time. If he took this class, his heart would fail. He would make Sister Helen worry about him again, and that was a whole lot worse than upsetting a teacher.

He had never imagined, though, that the teacher would call him a liar, or touch him like that. He had a note, so why was this happening? He didn�t know what to do or say to make him believe him. He felt helpless.

�But� I�m not lying�� Duo protested, but his voice was small and weak, �I do have heart problem��

The teacher looked angry at Duo�s attempts to stand up to him and, for a moment, he reminded Duo of his dead father so much, he feared he was about to get hit.

�Now, you listen here, you little punk, I don�t want to hear anymore of this bullshit, you got it?! Just get dressed and start warming up for class!� the man was almost screaming and was drawing the attention of the kids around them.

Normally, Duo would have felt self-conscious about all the people staring at him, but he didn�t even realize it. He was too focused on the gym teacher�s words. The memory hit him as sharply and immensely as the sudden, intense pain in his chest. The erratic pounding of his heart filled his head.

He was five years old. He knew that, not because he remembered this moment so well, but because the curtains hanging in the window over the kitchen sink were pale yellow. A little after his sixth birthday, Duo remembered that his mother had bought dark blue ones. He remembered that because his father had thrown a fit over them, though the yellow ones had been badly stained and Duo had always hated the color.

He had hit his mom in the face with a beer bottle and Duo had spent the night in the emergency room, waiting for his mom to come out. Ever since then, he had hated the dark blue ones, too. He ran into the kitchen, where his father was standing at the sink, eating some kind of sandwich. His father smiled down at him. He was in a good mood today. His breath didn�t smell like alcohol and he didn�t yell at Duo for running. It was these fragments of memory that Duo wished he could hang on to, the rare moments when his father smiled at him and was kind, loving� not remembering the sound the knife had made when it had slid into her stomach, or the sound of gunshots. The smell of blood.

�Daddy, Daddy,� Duo grabbed and tugged onto his father�s pant leg.

His father narrowed his eyes at the tug in annoyance, but that was ok. That wasn�t one of the warning signs. If he had been drinking, it would be, but things were ok for now.

�I saw something really, really cool!� he said excitedly.

His father regained his smile.

�And what was that, kiddo?� he asked.

�There were these two cars, a blue one and a cop car. The cop car was chasin� the blue one, then the blue one flipped over, it was great!� Duo was almost jumping, remembering the sight of the car flipping, just like in the movies.

No one had been hurt, of course, that would have made it slightly less great. His father narrowed his eyes again, this time in suspicion. Duo recognized the look. His daddy thought he was lying, which was bad. His daddy hated lying. Duo used to lie, when he was younger, about having a friend. His mommy had said it was called an imaginary friend, but his dad just called it lying. Every time Duo had brought it up, his dad had hit him. Duo didn�t mention imaginary friends anymore, or try to conjure any up. This time, though, he wasn�t lying.

�And where was this?� his father asked.

Duo remembered. His mommy and him had been walking down Park Street, which was where all the vendors were. She had promised to buy him a hot dog when the car had crashed through some of the carts.

�The park,� he said brightly.

Duo realized his mistake a second before the words came out of his mouth, but it was already too late to take it back. His father growled at him.

�Duo,� he said in a tone that he often had when he was angry, but wasn�t really lying.

It was much more dangerous when his daddy wasn�t yelling.

�I� I meant�� Duo stuttered.

He had meant to say Park Street, so why had he said the park? That was just stupid and now his daddy thought he was lying�

�How many times have I told you not to lie?!� his father snapped at him.

Before Duo even realized what he was doing, he made things worse.

�I�m not!� he protested, �It did happen.�

He should have kept his mouth shut, he realized. Even if his daddy thought he was lying and he really wasn�t, he should have just apologized. His father�s foot lashed out at him and caught him in the chest. Duo fell backwards, hitting his head against the wall. He wheezed, then choked as his lungs spasmed with the blow. He looked up at him in betrayal and, for a moment, he hated his father, but the feeling quickly faded. His daddy was just punishing him because he thought he had told a lie. That was what daddies were supposed to do, so he shouldn�t feel bad about it. His daddy just didn�t know he hadn�t been lying, that was all. His father grabbed his chin hard enough to bruise and his cold eyes burned into Duo�s.

�I have no patience for lying, little punks,� his father said, his tone as cold as his stare, �Do you understand me, Duo? Now, promise me you will never lie to me again!�

Duo nodded. He didn�t care that his daddy had hit him. He didn�t care that he hadn�t really lied and his daddy should know that. He just wanted to do what he was told, he wanted his daddy to not be mad at him anymore. He wanted him to smile at him again. That was why� that was why it was better to do as you were told. It was safer. If you did what you were told, you didn�t have to be punished. If he did what he was told, his daddy might just smile at him again�

Quatre watched Mr. Wilks yell at the short freshman intensely. His brother was on the other side of the gym, intimidating some other poor freshman. At least, Quatre assumed that was what he was doing. Heero had an irritated look on his face as he talked to a boy that Quatre didn�t recognize, who was looking scared as hell, but his brother didn�t actually look angry, so it was probably just out of boredom. He ignored them and focused solely on the spectacle that some of the other kids were watching, too. He recognized the freshman as the boy who had been standing at the entrance of the gym, just gawking, as he and Heero had pushed past him. He had continued to gawk, even as they had almost pushed him over.

Neither he nor his brother had given the boy much of a thought. His clothes, while obviously new, were just as obviously cheap, just a bit too big on his body, as though they had been bought so new ones wouldn�t have to be bought if he grew. Between the loose clothes and the annoying hat covering his hair, they hadn�t been able to get a good look at him and had easily written him off as someone boring and uninteresting. Then, as he had been scoping out the other freshman, Quatre had heard the shouting and had gotten a glimpse of the boy.

For a whole, full minute, Quatre just stared at his eyes. Fuck, those eyes. He had always had a thing for painting and, looking at those eyes, Quatre realized that they were normally indigo, but under the bright lights of the gymnasium, they were violet. A pretty mix of deep blues and light purples, that combination almost made those eyes glow compared to the drab hazels and greys that Quatre had been examining all day. That color couldn�t possibly be natural or common, but he knew that a boy who couldn�t afford better clothes and a new back pack probably couldn�t afford colored contact lenses. Also, he seemed shy, keep his head bowed as the teacher ranted at him. Someone like that wouldn�t buy contacts to stand out.

The rest of him wasn�t bad, either. Far from it. His wide eyes were framed by thick lashes, his face soft and pretty, not overly masculine or feminine. His skin showed an absence of scars, pimples, and freckles, the color of pale wheat mixed with silken milk. Quatre cursed the boy�s clothes and hat, wanting to see his hair and body type. Would he be thin or muscular, was his ass nice? The shapeliness of his neck told him that the boy wasn�t fat, but that was about all he could tell. Still, he was by far the most interesting boy they had spotted today.

Even his reactions to Mr. Wilks were interesting. By now, most boys would be red in the face out of embarrassment and anger from being called a liar, what the fight was about, Quatre hadn�t heard, but he had heard that much. However, this boy was getting paler by the second. He wasn�t as embarrassed as he was frightened. Wilks was a blowhard, every upperclassman knew that. His loathing of being made a fool was poorly mixed with his hatred for teenaged boys. How the man had become any sort of teacher was beyond Quatre�s understanding.

He knew for a fact, though Heero and Quatre�s names kept them far from Wilks� wrath, that the teacher wouldn�t stop yelling at the kid until he either apologized or started to cry. Giving the boy�s paleness and slight trembling, Quatre couldn�t honestly figure out which would happen first. Now, what kind of human would he be to let such a cute boy be abused like this? With a smirk, Quatre strode up to the teacher. As he got closer, he saw that the boy really was shaking and looked far too pale. He reminded Quatre of a white deer, ready to bolt at any moment and he found that adorable. If they hunted him, they would have to corner him better than the others. Anyone with this much fear in them was unpredictable.

�Now, Mr. Wilks,� Quatre said in a teasing voice, �Aren�t you making a fool of yourself, getting all bent out of shape over one, little doctor�s note?�

Wilks whirled to glare at the boy, his face beet red with fury until he saw who it was. Quatre watched with fascination as the blush on the teacher�s face drained away to paleness. The words caught in Wilks� throat. Fucking Yuys� if he so much as raised his voice to the boy, he would be in deep shit. Their first year here, he had caught the both of them smoking in the boy�s locker room and had given them both detention, but not before trying to scare them a little. Just a push, that was all, and he had found himself in the principal�s office himself. He had almost gotten fired. Little shits.

�I mean, look at all these people staring at you, getting all hot and bothered yelling at this poor kid over something so silly. Aren�t you embarrassed?� Quatre jeered, his eyes cruel and calculating.

Duo stared at the other boy incredulously. For a moment, he was startled by him. The boy was only slightly taller than himself, maybe by three to four inches but had lightly muscled, long arms compared to Duo�s skinny ones, and pale skin. Of course, his skin wasn�t as pale as Duo�s, but he was pretty sure that no one�s skin was as pale as his. The boy�s golden hair and blue-green eyes gave the boy an angelic look, but he had a threatening expression as he looked up at the teacher, destroying his innocent looks. He made Duo think of a mountain lion, smaller than their African cousins, but just as lethal. He couldn�t understand why this boy was sticking up for him, let alone risking pissing off a teacher for some stupid, strange freshman.

But, the older boy didn�t get in trouble. Duo continued to watch, astonished, as the gym teacher turned about five colors at once, but didn�t explode at the boy. He looked like he would, for a moment, then the man just gritted his teeth and glared at the blonde. The teacher who had gladly ranted at Duo just for having a doctor�s note looked at the boy almost like he was scared of him. Suddenly, the teacher turned to Duo and he felt all of the man�s anger directed at him.

�You can skip class this week,� Wilks snarled at him, �But next week, we split the class up into two groups, football and archery,� he smirked, almost cruelly, �Unless you think archery is too strenuous for you. The classes will always split into two groups, so you can always pick the less straining one. There�s no excuse for you to miss any classes beyond this week.�

His smirk twisted into an arrogant sneer. He had effectively given the kid no room to back out. If he lied now, tried to get out of the class entirely, he would know that the note was a fake. He was going to check up on this doctor regardless, but he wanted to make the kid squirm and dig himself into a hole for lying to him. To his shock, instead of looking panicked, the boy smiled in utter relief. Duo latched onto the gym teacher�s words eagerly.

As long as he could take this class, without stressing his heart or worrying Sister Helen, or utterly embarrassing himself with his classmates, he didn�t care what he had to do. He had never even held a bow in his life, but he had no idea how to play football, either, and he thought a boy who couldn�t shoot a bow had to be a whole lot more normal than a boy who had never watched a football game. Kevin and Father Maxwell liked to watch them, but they had always bored Duo.

�That�s perfect,� Duo said happily, glad that he didn�t have to fight with the teacher anymore, �As long as there isn�t a ton of running involved, I can handle it.�

Quatre glared at Wilks, almost smirking at his obvious embarrassment as he realized that the violet eyed boy hadn�t been lying to him. Stupid ass. He didn�t care what the problem had been about and he normally wouldn�t have even cared about the fight, but this boy might be theirs, and no one messed with anything of theirs, especially their prey. The hunt might be just a game, but both he and Heero were more affectionate and protective of their prey than they were of anyone other people in their lives, with the exception of each other. They had nothing else, after all, even their father couldn�t measure up.

Duo�s relief made Wilks feel shame, if only because he had made an ass of himself. But the thing that chilled him was Yuy�s glare. The last thing he wanted was one, or both, of the twins to be pissed at him. But why did this cold son of a bitch care about some stupid freshman? He stalked off with an annoyed snort. As quickly as he was gone, Duo turned to Quatre and beamed at him. The blonde scared him, kind of like finding a wolf dressed as a sheep in your kitchen, but if he hadn�t stepped in, Duo didn�t know what would have happened. His mother had always told him that you should be grateful when someone helped you, even if you didn�t like them, and Duo�s fear wasn�t going to keep him from being relieved about the intervention. Quatre was blown away by the boy�s brilliant smile. He was cute when he was scared, but his smile was beautiful, his eyes seeming to brighten just by his mood.

�Thank you so much,� Duo said breathlessly.

Quatre smiled back.

�Not a problem,� he replied offhandedly, too busy admiring the boy�s eyes and pale, ghostly skin.

Duo�s shyness finally overcame his relief and he walked quickly to the bleachers. Quatre watched his ass as he walked away and smirked. His jeans were too baggy to really see the shape of his ass, but what he could see was definitely not half bad. With that predatory smirk firmly on his face, Quatre walked over to his brother. Heero was leaning against the far wall, the freshman he had been talking to long gone. He raised one dark brown eyebrow at Quatre as he approached.

�Did you see?� Quatre asked, grinning.

�Skittish as a baby rabbit,� Heero remarked, but it wasn�t in disappointment.

He had stayed across the room mostly, to keep the pale boy from seeing him, but like any twin, his eyes had been on his brother the entire time, like the other half of his soul. He hadn�t heard what the fight had been about, but he had gotten a good look at the boy involved. Thin, pale, frightened� like a ghost or a fawn. Perfect prey for a pair of wolves looking for fresh meat. But it wasn�t as easy as that for Heero.

�Incredible eyes�� Heero murmured.

He had risked the boy realizing what was going on by stalking closer to the three of them, but it had been worth it to see a flash of those eyes. Like irises or precious stones, their brilliance magnified by his white skin. White and indigo�

�But I couldn�t see his hair,� he said gruffly in irritation, �That fucking hat� I�m not putting effort into this unless I see the whole package.�

Quatre snorted. Heero could be so anal about these things� but he did have a point. For all they knew, he could be bald under that hat. Ugh.

�Still, he�s a possibility,� Heero conceded.

The only possibility that they had come across all day, though. A very big possibility, given those eyes. Maybe that was vain of him, but what else were you supposed to think about a person when you hadn�t even met them? Besides, sometimes a pair of pretty eyes was enough. They didn�t know if he was going to be susceptible yet, but he was the best option that had come along so far.

�Don�t worry,� Quatre said with an arrogant grin, �I�ve got a plan.�
*****
Duo made a vague mental note to himself that he needed to find an old t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts when he got back to the church. He didn�t have any shorts beyond the ratty khaki ones he wore during the summer. He didn�t even have a pair of swim trunks since you had to pay to use the public school. He didn�t know how to swim, he had never been in a body of water bigger than a bathtub. At least there didn�t seem to be a real uniform, as his classmates gathered in front of Mr. Wilks to do stretches, all of them dressed in different old t-shirts and shorts or loose, exercise pants.

He watched with distaste as they finished with the warm up and were split into two groups to play dodge ball. He was vaguely familiar with the sport, as some of the boys at the orphanage liked to play it on the street, much to Sister Helen�s dismay, with one boy watching out for cars. He was almost glad that he had heart problems and didn�t have to play the violent sport. What was so fun about being smacked by a rubber ball anyway, unless you were the winner and didn�t get hit? Duo was the only one sitting on the bleachers and he took the opportunity to flip through his text books.

They really were better than the books Sister Helen had had him study at the orphanage. The words wouldn�t faded and he had an easy time reading them. The biology book had some interesting pictures in it, while the European history one had some mildly funny, and sometimes morbid, cartoons about British kings and the black plague. He spent all of the class in that way, just flipping through each single page and looking at the pictures and cartoons. When he got to his math book, he, in boredom, played the game he used to play when he was younger at the times he had had no one to play with, which had been often, seeing how many equations in the first two chapters he could do in his head.

Every so often, Duo�s head would shoot up and he would look around at his classmates wildly. He could feel intense eyes on him, but when he looked for them, he couldn�t find them. He shook it off uneasily. No one was staring at him, he told himself, there was no reason for anyone to be staring at him, yet he still felt someone�s stare burning into him. It was a sheer mercy when the bell rang, signaling the end of the day. He breathed in relief and packed up his things, cheerily walking down the bleachers. He didn�t know who had won the game of dodge ball and didn�t really care. Finally, finally, finally he could go home and stop this day, teetering between horrific and wonderful.

�Maxwell!� Wilks, who had suddenly appeared at the bottom of the bleachers.

Duo�s heart jerked and he was so startled that he stumbled in mid-step and nearly fell.

�Hit the showers. I don�t care if you sweat or not, when you�re in my class, you shower. School rules,� he snapped gruffly, then stomped off.

Duo�s heart plummeted into his stomach, twisting and growing cold. He opened his mouth to argue with the departing teacher, but once again, he could force himself to stick up for himself. He couldn�t do this. He couldn�t� couldn�t get naked in front of people! He couldn�t, he couldn�t, he couldn�t� He�d have to take his hat off, people would see his hair, they would make fun of him, tease him. They�d see how skinny and ugly he was. He couldn�t hide from them. His heart would hurt. He�d be embarrassed, ashamed� he couldn�t do this� Trembling a little, he automatically walked to the locker room door. He had to shower, had to do what he was told, he couldn�t take his clothes off in front of the other boys� he felt like his brain was short circuiting.

Someone bumped into him from behind, breaking Duo from his panicking thoughts. He got a brief flash of blonde hair, then his bag fell from his hands and papers and books flew everywhere. He felt like crying as he just stood there next to the locker room door and stared at his stuff. His mind felt blank and white, like a snow bank. He felt numb. Why was this so hard? So he had to take a shower, so all his stuff was on the floor and everyone was just walking past him, not giving a shit, so what? Why couldn�t he handle this? One of the boys that were walking towards the locker room stopped and got on their knees, picking up Duo�s papers.

He was taller than Duo was by a lot, his shoulders wide, stuck somewhere between boyhood and manhood. His dark brown hair was wild, falling into dark blue eyes the color of the deep ocean, making him look wolfish. Duo was startled for a moment by the look in his eyes, a predatory expression that reminded him so much of the blonde boy from earlier, but his tanned skin and narrowly shaped eyes reminded him of Bunny, a strange combination. The dark brunette knelt down and helped him pick up the books.

�T-thank you,� he said softly, feeling completely embarrassed that he had had to have been helped twice by strange upperclassman today, but grateful.

Heero smiled back at him. Fuck, but those eyes were even prettier close up and his skin really was almost colorless, but not in a sickly way, like how a vampire from a romantic horror flick might look like. The boy was so adorably shy, but earnest and had a kind look to him. Again, he cursed that stupid hat, wanting to see what his hair was like, long or short, silky or coarse� what color would it be?

�Not a problem,� he said, smiling in what he hoped was disarming to the nervous freshman.

He wasn�t exactly used to being reassuring or nice. They got all of the boy�s things back into his bag and the boy stood. Heero watched him with a calculating eye, which quickly turned predatory as he watched the denim cloth cling to the boy�s rear as he moved. He got to his feet and, as fast as a striking snake, he grabbed one of the boy�s ass cheeks through his jeans. The feeling of a round ass in his hand, warm with the roughness of denim, was wonderful.

He loved that shape, the roundness and the softness of it. He squeezed it harshly and grinned as he could finally feel a concrete part of the pale boy�s body. His practiced mind used what he was feeling to paint what the boy�s body would look like naked. It wasn�t a bad image at all. His long fingers dug into as much of the crack as he could through the jeans and he fantasized that he might be brushing against the delicate, little hole there. Heero let go of the sweet little ass cheek as quickly as he had grabbed it and moved past the boy, covertly looking back at him.

The second Duo felt the strong, steady hand on him, a sensation that felt like an electrical shock went in a jolt from his stomach to his groin, making him feel hot and prickly. He had never felt something like that before and it shocked him when he felt his cock swell and harden from the touch. His face turned red in shame and he pulled his shirt down as far as it could go, trying to hide it. What if someone saw it? He would die if someone did, actually die. It wasn�t like it was the first erection he had ever gotten, but mostly, he just got those weird ones guys got in the morning, for no real reason. But, he just took severely cold showers and it usually went away on its own. He knew that some guys� well, jerked off, but he never had. He had never seen the point in it.

Kevin said that he was a late bloomer, that one day, he would be like any teenaged boy and would be constantly hard up for girls, but Duo rarely ever thought about it. Maybe Kevin was right and he was just too young. Or worse. Maybe it would be like everything else in his life and he just wasn�t normal. But� but this� he had never gotten an erection like this before and it wasn�t a girl that had touched him� he whirled to look at the boy that had touched him, but he was already walking past him, like nothing at all had happened. Maybe it had just been in his head� but his cock, throbbing faintly in his pants definitely wasn�t.

�What the hell is wrong with you?� a voice the sounded oddly like Sister Helen snapped at him, �He didn�t touch you. You�re just a pervert.�

Duo shook his head. It had been a weird day. This didn�t mean anything. He was� he was hallucinating or something, that was all. He would just say a prayer with Sister Helen when he got back to the church. She liked it when he did that, even though most of the time, Duo couldn�t think of anything to say to God, because after his first few years at the church, praying to God to bring his mom and dad back to life, he had stopped asking for things. There really wasn�t much else he had wanted. If Sister Helen found out about this� he grit his teeth.

She would yell at him about living a dirty life, that he was too young to even be thinking about sex, something you shouldn�t think about until you were responsible and in love. But, even worse, she would stop yelling and just give him that sad and disappointed look that twisted guilt like a knife in his gut. He knew that he would do whatever she wanted, just so she would never have to look at him like that. His fingernails dug into his palms as he walked into the locker room. It didn�t matter, he decided, whether that boy had touched him or not. His erection didn�t matter. It was just his stupid body betraying him again, just like with his heart. If he ignored it and hid it, it would go away.
*****
�Well?� Quatre asked his brother as leaned against the wall of lockers, though he already knew the answer from Heero�s smirk.

Heero�s hand still felt warm from the pale boy and he remembered the adorable, shocked look he had had. He also remembered his glance back, and how the boy�s jeans had tented before he had tried to hide it with his shirt.

�Oh, he�s susceptible,� Heero said smugly and his grin turned predatory, matching his twin�s.

The hunt was on.
　

End Chapter 2
There�s just one more chapter, then I�m working on TRTK for a while.
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Violence plus Sex equals Love (remake)