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Something More


"What's your name, big fella?" I yelled as Mario walked by with a girl attached to his hip. He glared at me, clearly warning me to "cut the gay shit", as he liked to call it.

"Why do you do that?" I nearly bit my tongue in two as Heero suddenly popped up beside me, out of nowhere, sitting tentatively on the end of the bench. I don't know, maybe he thought I was going to push him off the edge or something, tell him to go away.

"Do what?" I asked. "Tease Mario? 'Cause it's fun." He blinked.

"So you don't like him?"

I turned, half-amazed, and stared at him. "Are you getting jealous?" I teased.

Apparently, Heero didn't take a little fun at his expense very well. He jumped to his feet and stomped off in a huff of green cotton tank top and jeans. I smiled as I watched him go.

Really, the progress he had made in the past few days had been amazing. I convinced him to not only lose the spandex in favor of more fashionable Fubu jeans ("You...uh...need to know fashion if you're going to be seen with me."), but he was looser. Uh oh, I thought, groaning as little me jerked to life. Not that way, you perv. Even the way he walked was less structured. I think Heero, pre-Duo, had the most efficient walk known to mankind. Now, he kind of bounces off the balls of his feet, which is adorable. I'd tell him so, but he'd probably force-feed me the ravioli from the cafeteria.

"Hey," said Dave, nudging my side, "you notice anything different about Heero?"

"No," I said crossly, trying to extract myself from his tentacle grip. Guys like Dave suck rocks. They're busybodies, but they always try to pretend like they're just watching out for the little guy. Jerks.

"I have," he said, grinning. "I've been watching him--"

"Pervert," I muttered.


"Observant," I said.

"Ah. Thank you." He coughed. "As I was saying, Heero's hips seem to be a bit broader, and he isn't such a tight-ass anymore. He actually spoke in Bio, instead of glaring at the teacher. Of course, this sparked a whole controversy over whether he was ever glaring, or if his facial muscles had been temporarily paralyzed. Missy Bzercik--"

"Dave," I said.

"Anyway," he finished, "I think he's been fucked." I blinked. "That's right, Maxwell. I know what you and Heero have been up to. In fact, I'd like to interview you for my article about same-sex couples."

"Right," I snorted, lashing out with my foot and catching his shin. "Oops, trick knee." He plastered a fake smile on his face. "When would this...article be coming out?"

He burst into laughter. "Coming out! That's a good one, Maxwell! You're really funny."

"I try." I stood, ignoring his outstretched hand. I don't shake certain people's hands, especially if I've seen them hiding in a corner of the locker room picking their nose. "I think our relationship is in a delicate stage right now," I said, sniffing.

He nodded. "I see. Well, see ya around!"

I'll admit, sometimes I'm not the smartest pea in the pod when it comes to lamebrain losers and their secret intentions toward my secret crushes. I thought we'd heard the last of Dave the Lamebrain Gay Play reporter.

I was wrong.

Dead wrong.



Just kidding! No, no one died or anything. Shit! You'd think I just offed Mother Theresa by the looks on y'all's faces. I went to dinner, made myself a nice sandwich, and choked on a piece of dry rye as I saw Heero sit in Dave's lap.

Throwing down my sandwich, I stalked across the dining hall and grabbed his arm. "What are you doing?" I said, pulling him off Dave's lap. Heero blinked at me. There was something different about his face...

I gasped. "Where are your bangs?" I said, rubbing his forehead and cheeks, as if I could feel their ghosts. Heero glared at me, and took off his bandanna. Miraculously, his hair returned to its proper place and the world began to spin on its axis again.

"Dave said that if you're being interviewed, you're supposed to sit as close to the reporter as possible for maximum soul connection," he reported dutifully. "Duo?" I dragged him out of the cafeteria, leaving my poor sandwich on the table, and back to the dorm.

Once inside my room, I went off on him like a bad smoke detector that thinks steam means fire. Have you ever had one of those? Every time you think you've got them beat, they start beeping again. That was Dave, all right.

"Heero," I said, "what was Dave asking you about?"

He blinked.

"He wanted to know if you and I were getting it on." Heero rolled his eyes. "Idiot. I don't know what he thinks 'it' is, but if we weren't, we'd have no clothes on." I gulped.

"So you said yes?"

"I said if he was so curious, he could come watch." God damn it! There's that fucking looseness again.

"SHIT!" I began hopping up and down, the brevity of the entire situation replaced by an image of a very large Heero beating the shit out of me, sans pillow. "Heero... I've done a very bad thing." His eyes narrowed; I felt as if someone had just painted a big ol' target on my chest.

"What did you do?"

After I told him, he stood stock still for a moment. "What are we going to do?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently. "I'm not the one that started it, Duo; you're going to finish it."

"Heero," I said, "you need to know how to have sex. It's a fact of life. Sooner or later, your sex drive will kick in and the fact that you're a major prude will cease to be a problem. You might as well explore it while you've got a willing partner in a controlled environment. Yeah." Best to go the scientific route, I thought. Little me was having a luau in my boxer shorts, hoping he'd get to poke more than the roast pig.

"No." He crossed his arms, tucking a stray piece of hair behind his ear. "And I am not a prude."

"You are such a prude," I said. "Why haven't you gotten laid yet?"

"I don't want to," he said, his back becoming as straight as Wufei.

"Oh yeah," I scoffed, "like you could get a guy?"

"Shut up!" he said, standing. He looked pissed. "I'm leaving," he said, holding onto his bandanna as he slammed the door. "Just you see!" he yelled from down the hall.

Little Duo: You promised me nookie... *sizzle*

I rolled my eyes. Even Heero suffered from melodramatic teenager disease.



The rumor mills work fast and ruthlessly. About an hour into study hall, Mario and two of his buddies showed up in my room, grinning from ear to ear. "Shit, Duo," said Mario, his Italian accent shining through, "your boy's gone off into the fields with Clarke."

"Clarke?" Clarke, Clarke, I thought. Who was that? And how could I rend him limb from limb without getting caught? "Who's this guy?" Mario laughed.

"He's a senior from Pine Hill." I groaned. Pine Hill was the druggie dorm. "Pothead." He shrugged. "Just thought you might like to know. Looks like he's moved on, Maxwell." I laughed.

"Well, I taught him all I could."

Mario grinned, leaning forward. "Just so you know, Duo, I was thinkin' about giving him a ride--"

"Out!" I said, barely managing to keep myself smiling. "Out, shoo."

I spent the next four hours at the window, chewing my nails frantically. From this side of the dorm, I could see anyone who came back from the fields. I was intent on cornering Heero and giving him a piece of me--I mean, my mind, a piece of my mind.


I had almost lost hope when I saw a small figure walking over the hill, arms swinging by his sides, bouncing up and down. "Heero!" I called, sticking my head out the window. I tried to see if his hips looked like they had gotten wider from being banged open for hours on end, but couldn't tell. It was just too dark.

"Come up into my room!" I hissed. He shrugged, and continued inside. A few minutes later, he knocked on my door and let himself in. "Heero," I said, taking in his grass-stained appearance. He certainly looked like he had been rolling around in the grass with a stupid, gross, greasy pothead senior from Pine Hill, a senior towards whom I bore no ill will.

"You didn't," I said.

"Didn't what?" he asked, and was it just me, or did he stand a bit bowlegged, like he'd been frantically holding onto something with his thighs like his life depended on it?

"Didn't do it," I said. "You know." He shrugged. "Did you? Do it, I mean?"

Little Duo: I wanted to be first! There's nothing like unclaimed territory. It's like sticking a flag on the moon.

"He was gross," said Heero. "The first thing he did was try and get me to meet 'Mr. Happy'. Not exactly how I saw my first sexual encounter. I got lost on the way back."

"Grass stains?" I felt a bit, but not much, more relaxed.

"He struggled. I was forced to hit him over the head with a rock," he said, shrugging. "I just want to go to sleep."

"So you're still a virgin?" Little Duo took control of my mouth before I could stop myself. He rolled his eyes.

"Good night, Duo."



We had a dorm meeting at 9:30 so people could bitch about the toilet seats being left up, and the dorm kitchen not being cleaned. At the end of the meeting, there was still no sign of Heero. I decided to go check on my favorite soldier.

"Heero?" His room was warm, decidedly more so than mine. Almost like... I tipped the door open and clouds of steam came rushing out, wetting my face like a dog that's got huge jowls and just slobbers all over you until you want to whip out a gun and shoot it.

The first thing he said to me was, "Duo, let's have sex."

No "Hi Duo, how are you? Sorry for being a little jerk and running off with some other guy, being totally insensitive to your needs and your little Duo's needs."

No "Hi Duo, I've been doing a lot of thinking in the past hour or so. Sit down; this may shock you."

Just, "Let's have sex." Not that I was averse to it at all. It's one of my favorite recreational activities, albeit one I don't engage in often. Heero is also one of my favorite recreational activities, albeit one I never thought I'd get to engage in.

"Uh," I said.

"Okay," he agreed, "when do you want to have sex? I have classes tomorrow until 2:35. We could meet five minutes after that, and be done in time for sports at 4:00." I stifled a snort.

"What about study hall? Just come to my room at 7:30; I'll have everything ready." He let out a yawn, one long arm rising from the water to scratch his neck. "Kosher?"

"Yes," he said.

As soon as I left his room, I couldn't help but feel a bit like I was leaving the Twilight Zone. I had just had a very frank, unsexy conversation with my fellow pilot about having purely learning-centered, unsexy sex the next day. And I was still as hard as Gundanium.

"Just you behave," I said, patting my crotch. "You'll get your turn."



He slipped into my room like a shadow. I never even heard him until I looked up from lighting candles and saw him watching me, his eyes pensive. "Hi." He nodded, taking a step forward, then moving back to the safety of the wall. Ah, Heero, I thought. You won't get away that easily.

[insert evil laughter]

"Are you scared?" He glared at me, but said nothing. Around us, candles wavered and flickered, a clear violation of the dorm rules, since there were to be no open flames within fifteen feet of our rooms. Leading him by the hand to my bed, I urged him to lie down. He wore only a pair of loose blue jeans, pants that were disposed of as easily as a dirty diaper.

It was horrendous.

Since I'm really smart, I bought hand cream from the bookstore to use as lubricant. It would have been great, except that it kept rubbing into the skin and then, in the middle of me thrusting inside him, he would suddenly seize up and try to squirm away because I was almost dry. There was that fiasco.

Then there was the fiasco of he was scared shitless and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean, I know I'm the world's greatest lover and everything (duh), but you have sex with people 'cause to. And I know it was his idea, but I don't know if he was really into it, or if I was safe in a controlled environment. He kept his eyes closed the entire time.

So I felt bad about hurting him, bad about him not really wanting me, bad about me wanting him and not able to say anything about it. In general, the sex was really bad, and I could barely look at him when it was over.

He just kind of shivered and pulled his pants back on, and I knew the crotch of his pants would end up soaked, but I didn't want to say anything because it was technically my fault. So I sat there and picked at the quilt of my bed and when he was gone, I went to the bathroom and stared at my reflection.

We avoided each other for days, except for the occasional breaking and entering mission. It wasn't pretty, and it wasn't fun. I would see him walking around campus, and he'd just kind of freeze, like he could feel my stalker eyes on his neck.

I didn't know if he was thinking about it, but I got a pretty good indication when I came back from sports one day, and he was standing behind the door.



"That can't be it," he said, and I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Jesus, Heero, you scared me," I said, clutching my chest dramatically. "Don't do that!" Part of me, and we all know which part, was extremely glad to see him in such close proximity.

"That can't be it," he said again. "If that's all, then people wouldn't have sex." I sighed.

"Duh. People have sex to make babies."

"Don't patronize me," he said. "There has to be more."

"More sex?" I asked hopefully. Aha, my ego thought, he actually liked it a lot, and wants more of my boo-tay.

"More...I don't know. Feeling." I laughed. Heero Yuy, talking about feelings? "Tell me," he said stubbornly. "I'm not leaving until you do." I did a double take at that; he wrapped his arms around the bedpost and refused to let go, no matter how much tugging I did.

"When people have sex, it's because they love each other," I finally said, throwing up my hands. "We don't love each other."

He blinked, slowly disentangling his arms from the wooden post.

"Mission accepted," he said, and walked from the room.



The next day, I was on my guard. When Mario tapped me on the shoulder, I was convinced it was Heero, busy cooking up some devious scheme to get me to fall in love with him so our sex could mean something. It was crazy. It was illogical to me; I understood the consensus view on love.

Which said nothing about Heero's idea about love and affection.

Anyway, back to Mario: he got a plate of macaroni and cheese right in his face.

I considered it payback for the "I'm thinking about giving Heero a ride" crack.

Nothing happened that first day, but he made me paranoid as hell, always giving me these little smiles that made me tingle and made me break out in a cold sweat.

He said hi to me in the stairwell and I nearly passed out. Even if I wasn't in love with Heero, he was doing a damn good job of making me feel as if I were. Every time his hand brushed against mine in P.E., I nearly swooned.

It was pathetic.

I was pathetic. He'd almost broken me by the end of the day, and he hadn't done anything.

That night, he sat on the end of my bed and told me that he had thought about me all day. It was the sweetest, and creepiest, thing anyone had ever told me. And then he told me that he was going to try to fall in love with me, if I would do the same.

And you wanna know the really sad part?

I agreed. I said I would try my best to feel the same way, because I didn't want to see the sadness or the disappointment when his first foray into the world of emotions was an utter failure. I wanted to see him smile a little bit, even if it was a strange smile that you saw on hairstylists and dog trainers. I said I would try to fall in love with someone who wasn't even in love with me yet.

I guess it meant that I didn't even have to try, because it was too fucking late.



We left the school, left Mario and Dave and Clarke the druggie. I didn't see him again for another six months, and the entire time, I watched the sky at night and if I saw a shooting star, I told myself that it was him, that he loved me.

It was after a lousy mission. I stumbled to my cot next to my partner, mah Gundam-hoochie-baby (inside joke between me and Howard), and when I woke, he was kneeling next to me. My whole body felt like it was glowing, like I was going to float away into the atmosphere.

"Hee.....uh," I said. I will admit that I'm not the most coherent guy when I first wake, but I managed two-almost words, an incredible feat for a guy who can't remember his own name when woken at the asscrack of dawn.

"Hi," he said, and he held my hand the rest of the night. I swore to myself that as soon as I had the energy to, I would nail him until magnets came from all directions and stuck to him.

He was gone when I woke, but his scent hovered in the air like bad perfume.



The next time I saw him, the war was over, the people were celebrating their newly found peace, and for all I knew, he had disappeared off the face of the earth. Wufei told me that he was going to be a cop. I was not surprised; I told him that if he ever came across Heero, he should beat him with a pillow for me.

So I did something really pathetic, more pathetic than our first time having sex, and more pathetic than everything that came after that.

I went back to that damn school and insisted that I be boarded in Pine Hill. "Duo!" said Mario, clapping me on the back. During the period of our mournful separation, the Italian boy had only gotten burlier and hunkier. "Nice to see ya back, man. Where's Heero?"

I shrugged. "Dunno," I said, spying the bench that Heero and I had sat on, kind of talking, kind of fumbling, but enjoying it anyway. "I'm gonna go sit down." I felt the wood under my ass, which was no longer as nice as it had been under the regime of Heero and his Tae-Bo, and closed my eyes.

When I opened them, he was sitting next to me, one leg swinging back and forth. He was wearing Fubu jeans.

"Hi," he said, swallowing hard.

"Hi," I said, and reached between us to hold hands. "You miss me?"

He smiled a little, that weird smile, and I felt very, very happy for a reason that should have been beyond me, but for God's grace, suddenly wasn't.


"That's good," I said. "I missed you."

We sat in silence for a moment, and then hormones took over and I kissed him, taking me back to that little room where I'd given him his first kiss and he'd tried his damnedest not to let it happen. We tripped and fell several times moving up the stairs to my room. I guess, in retrospective, we probably should have stopped making out long enough to get to a bed.

I nearly ripped off my clothes in frustration. Damn this shirt and damn the man who invented buttons! I thought, tossing my own Oxford button-down aside. He slid off his tank top, laughing at me as I picked buttons off me.

"Come here," I said, and he rushed into my arms, his arousal pressing against Little Duo, who had been revitalized and was ready for action. Quickly undressing the rest of the way, we fell onto the bed like we fell into everything, this, and the war, and being pilots.

Never let it be said that Duo Maxwell does not learn from his mistakes.

This time we used scented oil, the stuff that you buy in those frightening mystic shops with the women in rag-dresses that stand around all day anointing candles and reading books about witchcraft. And when I pushed inside him, feeling like the first time was just a bad, bad dream in a larger nightmare, he sobbed my name like he'd been waiting a long time to do it.

"Is this okay?" I asked, kissing him deeply, swallowing his little cries. "Tell me if I'm hurting you." He shook his head, his passage squeezing me once before relaxing, the small of his back lifting off the bed. I wet my fingers and began to pinch his nipples, smiling as he thrust up insistently.

He was so tight around me, the mouth of it pulling me in deeper, his legs struggling to stay wrapped around my waist. Every thrust brought a counter moan, a little intake of tremulous air. I pressed my hand to his stomach, felt every gasping breath, the trembling of his skin. It was soft like the skin of a peach, the blonde hairs smoothed by the roughness of my palm.

I wrapped my hand around his cock, rubbing the slit with my thumb. He spread his legs wider, giving me better access, his arms looped around my shoulders. I felt the weight of his hands against my shoulderblades and nearly cried.

"More," he whispered, his hips bucking as I thrust myself inside as deeply as I could, wanting to be in him, with him, near him, feeling every muscle in my body clenching. It was an experience only rivaled by throwing chocolate chip cookies at squirrels after dropping e.

After, he tucked his head between my arm and my chest and fell asleep, mumbling my name, his thighs sticky against my side. It didn't matter, though.

I was happy.

It was a great feeling.


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