But also somewhere, in fact right where I was, someone, namely me, was having a nice little latte in a cozy little café looking down at an innocent card that a very mysterious girl had given him.  

    And that's when I think, hell, what a world.

    When I opened the door to the safehouse, I expected quiet.  After all, it was a Friday night, not too late in the evening, and we all usually split to our varying pleasures at that point.

    Wufei enjoyed solitude, big surprise, so he had a habit of either holing himself up in his room, or taking long walks until the sky matched the color of his hair and the moon was as bright as his skin.  (See?  I can do poetry too... Duo Maxwell, man of many talents.)

    Trowa was something of a loner as well, but I had been watching him and I knew what was going on.  You don't have to be bisexual to see a relationship shimmering into view right in front of you.  Whereas tall, quiet and unibanged used to find some random place to sit, quietly thinking, he now managed to find short, kind and golden right there waiting.

    Yep.  That's right.  I believe Quatre and Trowa were falling in love.  Now that's not to say the sexual love necessarily... but they were beginning to realize that a friendship could prove so much more happiness than nothing.  And, you have to admit, those two got along perfectly.  When Trowa wanted quiet, Quatre was content to watch, or speak soothing words.  When Quatre wanted to discuss something, at the very least Trowa was willing to listen.

    A perfect harmony.  Besides, I couldn't help thinking as I walked into the safehouse, they did look pretty cute together. Quatre was just tall enough and sweet and innocent enough to look almost feminine next to Trowa's slim but muscular form. Ha.  I bet Quat would kill me if he knew I not only had noticed what was going on, but that I expected Trowa to wear the pants and Quatre the little garter belt and flowers he'd throw at the Maganacs to see who'll marry next.

    At the thought, I was having a hard time stifling a laugh.  Really.  Imagine Quatre all trussed up like yesterday's sexy “I'm a virgin, REALLY I am!” bride-to-be... with the little white veil covering his blue-green eyes, and a train on his dress, and... oh, I have it!  He HAS to wear a sand-colored dress with little rocks sewn into the fabric!  And Trowa will have to wear a really tight tux with extra fabric in the arms... maybe little holes cut out all over so it looks like bullet holes have bombarded his suit.

    Alright, so I laughed.  I know, that whole scenario was more for my enjoyment than anything else.  Can you blame me?  We have some good-looking pilots.  Wufei's got the tragic war hero fighting with a blade of honor and a soul of justice thing down. And with those smoldering looks he throws me when he wants me to shut up (Oops, you caught me... so I babble and pick on him a lot just to get that reaction) it's not too hard imagining throwing him against a wall and exploring that angry mouth.

    Or Trowa.  Tall, quiet, mysterious.  His green eyes always seem so passive but I know behind them his mind is working continually.  I'd like to see through those eyes one time, know what's going on back there.  And... well... can't say I would mind checking out the body as well.

    Then there's Quatre.  He's so kind and gentle and innocent and sweet... sometimes it almost makes me sick.  Like the syrup I pour liberally on my pancakes but almost chokes me it tastes so good.  Don't get me wrong... I like Quatre a lot.  He lets me talk to him whenever, as he does with everyone, and seems to get the least annoyed at my personality.  He's also golden... that's all you can say.  Everything with him is golden.

    But while I love tragedy, mystery, and gold... there's something I like more.

    Black.

    I can understand the negativities, oh hell, I'm attracted to the negativities, more than anything positive.  Why?  Couldn't say. But that would be why, of any of the pilots, I found Heero to be sexiest of them all.

    Quiet like Trowa, tragic like Wufei, and, beneath that stony exterior, just as gentle and innocent as golden boy snuggling with our circus performer.  So, really, I had it all in my roommate.  

    Well... not always roommate.  But at some point I planned to just throw him on the bed and show him just what those Prussian blues of his said to me.

    “Ravish me?” you ask.

    Ha, I wish.  Nahhh, those blues smoldered at me like Wufei's never could... they glared at me, mocked me, despised me...

    ...But they also shined at me, once in awhile, when either Heero didn't think I'd seen, or maybe didn't notice himself.

    And, while I had been attracted to his rough personality, it was that random shine that made me determined to find it, yank it out into the open, and discover exactly what that meant.  Was it malice?  Was it care?  Was it love?

    Heh.  I'm not expecting love, mind you, I'm just trying to explore the possibilities here.  What would make Death Glare ™ Yuy's eyes shine?  That's the true question to the universe.  Fuck “What is the meaning of life?”.  I want to know “What is the meaning of light in the world of a boy shrouded by the shadows of protocol and indifference?”

    Shrugging as I made my way up the stairs (yes, we're back at the safehouse again... I had been thinking things similar to this, but now that I have the time, I've just gotten a little more elaborate) I noticed everything was dark.

    Good.  I was alone.  Plenty of time to figure out that Dori girl, if that's her name, and what she wanted.

    I slipped into my room, considering flipping on the light but enjoying the dark so much more, and jumped gracefully onto my bed.  I know what you're thinking... how could I know if it was graceful or not?  Well, let me tell you, I know how to be sinuous... almost feline...  I know how to move so my body looks like the wavering smoke after a candle's been blown out.  I also know how to move fast, like lightning, but I'm not as strong as I'd like to be.

    And I can smile.

    Hell, can I smile.  I've seen this face of mine lighten up even the stoniest of people... my incessant chatter, when I choose to act that way, may get on the nerves of everyone around me, but I know that as soon as I leave... they feel empty.  The quiet, which they may have liked before meeting me, is now an oppressive silence.  They'll look around every corner for my grinning mask, and when they see it, they'll yell at me, berate me, do whatever it is in their power to get me to shut up and go away.

    But when I leave, something in them smiles... happy to have seen the joker once more.

    So maybe that's why I like anything negative more.  I'm so positive it's like polar opposites... anyone around me enough for me to get attached to them almost inevitably turns negative on me.

    I guess that's why I do what I do.  For one, to keep my secrets secret.  You've heard my intro, right?  “I run and I hide but I never lie”?  Well, let's just put it this way... not too many people know just how often I hide.

    But beyond that... by almost begging for the negative in my copilots to appear, I give them an outlet for their anger aside from the war.  So now, when they're home, they have something to yell at instead of themselves.  Someone to glare at and pretend just for a few moments that life is nothing more than avoiding the long-haired boy who won't shut up and smiles all the time.

    Now don't be thinking I'm altruistic or anything.  I like the negativity.  I can't stress that point enough.  In fact, at times, it's almost a sexual thing.  ... Fine, fine, since I can't tell a lie, I'll let you in on one more part...  After anger and tears comes hope. Wishes.  Dreams.  Care and, eventually, maybe some form of love.  So I guess I also like pulling that anger from them so they can get onto the tears and the rest of the cycle.  And eventually, they will be complete.  And I will have helped them along.

    Hmph.  But do NOT _EVER_ tell ANYONE I told you that!  Do you know how embarrassing that would be??  I'm supposed to be a merciless Gundam pilot, not Princess Diana.  ...If that's the name I'm thinking of.  Some lady from years ago... she was supposedly really selfless before she was killed in a crash of some sort.  I don't entirely remember the story.

    Right.  Well.  Speaking of stories, let's get back to mine, ne?

    So I walked into my dark room and jumped... GRACEFULLY... onto my bed.

    It was quiet in the bedchambers, which in a way comforted me more than anything else could have at that point.  I pulled out the white card and tilted it so the blue-stained light from the moon outside angled onto its surface.

    It still said only those two things.

    I started wondering what the point was of a card that had two names and no contact information when I must have drifted off to sleep.

    And there, I suppose, is where all the weird shit started.

~    I was lying on my bed, just waking up, when I heard a sound at the door.  Sitting up abruptly, I wondered when I had fallen asleep.

    The sound came again and I finally recognized it for what it was: someone fiddling with the doorknob.

    Had I locked...?

    “Duo, you baka!” growled a very pissed, very familiar voice, “Open the damn door!”

    The doorknob rattled more as it was violently turned back and forth.  Groaning, I rolled off the bed and crawled over to the door.  Pulling myself up I replied in annoyance, “Gimme a sec, Heero!  Gods....”  I unlocked the door and stepped back, wondering but also fearing what Heero wanted now.

    The door immediately was thrown open followed by an irate Japanese pilot stalking in and slamming it shut behind him.  I could only stare wide-eyed at how... hot his eyes were.  No, not hot as in sexy.  I mean hot!  Filled with some emotion, I could only assume anger, and ready to burst.  Swallowing audibly, I shrunk in on myself.

    “Heero, I-“

    But I didn't get to finish the sentence.

    Heero stalked straight at me and pushed with more strength than I realized he had right in my chest.  I stumbled, no, flew backward, falling onto the bed.  He jumped after me, looking like he was going to rip my hair out and make me eat it. Terrified, I twisted and started to sprint toward the door, but with one hand he caught my hair.  With a pained yelp my head was snapped back and I fell to the ground, dazed.

    Heero yanked me up by my shirt, our faces inches apart as that burning hot look devoured me.  I was scared shitless. It finally happened.  He was going to kill me.  He picked me up again, and threw me onto the bed, this time following with his body on top of mine.  He was sitting on my torso... his knees held my arms down, his weight my whole body.  I was kicking my legs desperately but it wasn't affecting him in the least, and no matter how hard I tried to squirm I was still stuck.  My braid was caught under my body and both our weight, so I couldn't even turn my head much without a searing pain developing on my scalp.  Realizing finally that the only way to get out of this mess was to convince Heero I was good enough as a pilot to keep alive, I swallowed and looked into his eyes.

    I don't know what he saw in my expression but whatever it was, he smirked.

    Surprised, but also very, very paranoid, I couldn't help squirming again.  “Heero-yeah, you got me good-now let me up-Heero--!”

    One of his strong, callused hands gripped my chin and turned my face until I was staring at him once more.  Slowly he moved in until our lips were almost touching.  His eyes were still glittering and burning maddeningly and I started memorizing every detail so I'd have something to do in the afterlife... remember.

    Lips almost brushing mine, he whispered with slow heat, “You've been a bad boy, Duo.”  His voice was ... SULTRY?!

    My eyes widened even more and all I could do was stare in complete and utter shock.

    Chuckling deep in his throat, his warm breath billowing with hot moisture onto my lips, Heero smirked again.  I squirmed uncomfortably a moment.

    Suddenly Heero closed the distance and his hot mouth was on mine as his hands explored my hair, my neck, my chest.  I think I whimpered at the pure pleasure of the feeling, which only made Heero laugh into my mouth and double his efforts.  I was squirming uncontrollably, wondering how the hell this had all come to be, not that I was complaining mind you, when I realized his hands were like white hot trails of pleasure meandering over my skin.  Every touch was fire, blossoming until it struck something very deep within me.  I struggled more, now more out of a strange sense of eagerness and fear.  He was touching me, but it wasn't my body that felt the fire.  It was something deeper.  Something I had tried to hole away a long time ago. Something that was so incredibly important to me I had thrown it in the deepest chambers of my being to protect it from the war and the hatred and anything negative.

    But now Heero was trailing his fingers along it, alighting a fire within it that reflected the burning in his eyes.  Now Heero was letting his warm, moist breath silence its protests, his soothing hands move slowly over its aching.

    Now Heero was playing with my soul.

    I felt tears come to my eyes so I squeezed them shut, whimpering pathetically into his mouth.  I think it only fed his fire more, my helplessness.  But it was such a disturbingly pleasurable feeling I couldn't do anything but feel it and whimper.  Fear it and whimper.  Love it and whimper.

    Distantly, in the background, I heard a sound, but even though the sound was very familiar, it was so removed I couldn't force myself to concentrate on it when Heero was burning my body and soul to cinders with his mere touch.

    Heero broke contact with the kiss and my eyes inadvertently flew open.  I strained up desperately, ignoring the pain from the back of my head as my braid couldn't follow.  Heero sat back, watching me with a disturbingly calculating expression as I twisted and yearned for more contact.  It was like a drug.  Without that white hot pleasure running all over me I was more acutely aware of the empty coldness inside.  I whimpered again, this time desperately, as I strained to reach anything of him with my face.  I couldn't use my arms since he still had those pinned to my sides with his legs.  He watched me and something like a smirk was forming when that distant noise became a little louder... a little more insistent.

    Swallowing as I began to realize that had all been some sick joke of Heero's, I struggled to distract myself by glancing toward the source of the sound.~

I woke up suddenly, still hearing that noise.  I stared at the ceiling a moment, feeling the lack of Heero's weight on me even as I began to realize that had all been a sick, twisted dream. The sound came again and I finally recognized it for what it was: someone fiddling with the doorknob.

    Had I locked...?

    “Duo, you baka!” growled a very pissed, very familiar voice, “Open the damn door!”

    The doorknob rattled more as it was violently turned back and forth.  Groaning because I had been taken from the dream, but also slightly grateful, I rolled off the bed and crawled over to the door.  Pulling myself up I replied in annoyance, “Gimme a sec, Heero!  Gods....”  I unlocked the door and stepped back, sudden fear lacing through me as I realized this was EXACTLY how my dream had started.  

    The door immediately was thrown open followed by an irate Japanese pilot stalking in and slamming it shut behind him.  I stared wide-eyed at him, wondering if this time he was going to kill me, or if the dream was going to happen all over again, or...?

    Heero glared at me and I was only mostly happy to notice there was no trace of that smoldering burn.  “I've been trying to get in here for 20 minutes,” he growled.

    “S-sorry, I was-sleeping...” I mumbled stupidly.

    Heero grunted, pushing aside some of the crap I had on the table in my room and setting his laptop on the now-empty space. I watched him, eyes following how his hands trailed across the surface of the laptop just like they'd trailed across my skin. When he frowned I wondered what the frown would taste like, pressed into my burning lips.  When he leaned forward and flipped on the laptop, I thought of him flipping me onto the bed, leaning on me with all his weight, holding me down so I couldn't escape even if I wanted to....

    I suddenly realized he was staring at me as much as I was staring at him.  Fuck.  Feeling a deep blush coming I turned abruptly and looked out the window.  “So... what brings you to my humble abode?  Well not so humble.  Did you know my room is actually a foot longer and wider than anyone else's?  I measured it the other day when everyone was gone and I was really bored.  It kinda surprised me... I would've thought Quatre would want the largest room, you know?  But instead I got it....  But then again this is the darkest room in the house so it only makes sense Shinigami gets it....  Quatre probably wouldn't know what to do with so much black around him....”  I babbled about whatever came to mind while I struggled with the blush. Finally able to contain my emotions, I turned and bounded over to Heero with my joker mask firmly in place.

    He cut through my words with a growl, “We have a mission.”

    Shutting up immediately, I asked, “Oh?  Cool!  When do we start?  What do we do?  How many-?”

    But before I could continue he interrupted me with the details, which he growled out in a very annoyed voice and reinforced with visuals on his laptop.  When I had been briefed he shut the laptop and left without saying another word.

    As the door shut firmly behind him, I leaned against a wall and slid down until my legs were pulled to my chest and my head was resting on my knees.  What were the odds I'd have such a hot dream interrupted by the very focus of it, with almost exactly the same beginning?  Groaning, I closed my eyes.  Afraid to sleep for fear of a recurring dream, and yet wanting a repeat of it so badly my whole body yearned for it, I realized I was in for a very loooong night.

    “Still,” I mused aloud to myself, playing with my braid, “'snice to know if even just in my dreams there's something that can light my darkness again.”

    Pushing myself up, I wandered over to the bed.  The card was sitting in the moonlight, glimmering happily.  Grumbling, I shoved it in my pocket and threw myself on the bed.

    Screw it.  If Heero wanted to take me again in my dreams, I was ready and willing.

    After all, it was just a dream.  What harm could come of it?

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws