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It was ten-thirty on a Wednesday night in mid-August. Thanks to the clouds, it had been just as dark at six as it was at the moment. At noon, it had looked like dusk and the smell of rain was heavy in the air. The humidity had kept most people inside, and although it was dark, the wet heat confined them within their homes, windows still tightly shut to keep out the hot weather. Air conditioners were turned up as far as they would go, fans circulated warm air through stagnant rooms, or occasionally attempted forcing it out into the night.
And for the umpteenth time that evening, Duo Maxwell found himself thinking about cutting his hair. He knew he would never do it; the meter-long plait was his pride and joy, even though his mother found it odd (okay, she always lovingly told him he was weird at least twice a day) and his father merely smiled and said nothing when the topic was breached. He also knew why; one day last July when a tornado watch was in effect and his mother had called from work, begging him to go inside to the storage room rather than watch the funnel clouds churn, as she knew he was, he'd found treasure. Boxes upon boxes of pictures he'd never known existed. There was no order in which they were haphazardly crammed together, so he'd decided on a whim to organize them until the warnings were over.
>>Grinning mischievously, he reasoned that he would, therefore, have to look at the pictures to see the time periods in which they were taken. So, he dug out an old marker crammed into an old shoebox next to the cookie monster costume he wore in third grade and set to work. There were relatives that had been gone since well before he'd been born, judging by his grandmother's neat, stylistic handwriting on the back of the old scalloped-edge 2x3 black and white photos, his grandparents as teens…he'd had to stop staring at his grandfather's service portrait from the Army, slightly wierded out that he was drooling over someone not only *old*, but *related*. After a few envelopes of his own baby pictures, which he'd grimaced at--there were far too many of them featuring him sitting in the sink naked for his liking--he'd struck gold.
He'd had no idea his parents had been so tragically fashionable in the sixties and seventies. He laughed slightly at the bad glasses, the horrid bell bottoms…and nearly cried when he saw himself in a pair of brown corduroy bell bottoms and a russet plaid shirt…and were those Buster Browns?! He twitched and set that group down, grabbing the next envelope. And there it was: his own father, Gregory Allen Maxwell, with deep chestnut hair down to his ass. He couldn't believe it was the same balding man he saw every day in the kitchen on his way to work. But it had certainly explained the man's silent defense.<<
Oh, he'd has his share of good times with those pictures…and the ones from New Year's Eve, 1982. His uncle Tim had nearly murdered him for posting them on his web site, but he just hadn't been able to resist. Besides, it wasn't like they were exactly construed as pornographic…
But at the present, he was sprawled out on his bed in nothing but his excruciatingly hot rope of hair snaked on the pillows behind him. Jonette Napoliano crooned in the background about walking in London and he rolled onto his stomach slowly, grabbing at his cigarettes, frowing when he saw that he was fairly low. But he lit one, drawing the pale smoke into his lungs, exhaling through his nose.
A nearly empty Big Gulp was seated on the small old school desk next to the bed, sweating and creating a small pool of condensation on the bottom on the Snowball Lodge ashtray beside it. He sighed and took a long drink of the watered-down mix, which happened to be a happy potion of all available fountain drinks in the store, surprisingly not too sweet, although WuFei swore he could very probably eat a box of sugar cubes without a second thought. It definitely soothed the raw feeling smoking always left him with, particularly in the summer, so he didn't complain much. Besides, why pick only one kind of pop when you could drink them all for the same low price in one convenient 32-ounce cup of waxed paper goodness?
He looked out the nearly closed blinds again, hoping for a sign of rain. The scent had gotten stronger and he could tell by the sporradic harder whirring of his fan that the wind had picked up. There was a posibility of it finally being somewhat cooler, seeing as there was actual wind, so he ground out his cigarette, then pulled the window fan out to replace it with the sliding screen, cackling to himself when he realized there was a slim chance he was giving someone a show. Then again, the most likely people to have the best vantage point were the Olavsons across the alley…and it was doubtful they were awake.
He took a moment to kneel beside the low opening and leaned out, inhaling deeply. There was nothing like the smell of a Storm. It was dusty-watery, sweet and sharp; just the way it should be. There was practically nothing he liked more than the smell of the rain.
Except maybe his best friend, Chang WuFei.
He wasn't entirely sure when he'd fallen for the sarcastic Chinese boy; he might have even stuck to the story that it was love at first sight. Merely a glimpse as he was lining up after recess with Heero, Quatre and Hilde in fifth grade when he'd first moved to the city. After asking who the silent boy surveying everyone around him with an aloof expression people still took as arrogant, he learned that WuFei had just transfered to public school at the beginning of the year from a rather exclusive private school on the other end of town after another student there, Ron Meiran, had died pushing WuFei out of the way of a wild spray of bullets from a drive-by targeting the mayor's daughter.
Needless to say, Duo was hooked from that moment on. He'd done everything he could to get the other boy's attention. He laughed at the cynical muttered remarks during choir class their last two years in elementary school; enjoyed playing cello even more when the both of them joined orchestra in junior high school, where WuFei had played the same instrument…he even offered mindless chatter on the way to school in the mornings, since they walked the same route to school and back, having discovered by accident that WuFei's family had moved into a house very nearby his own.
By the time they'd gotten to high school, WuFei was stuck fully, completely and utterly with Duo Maxwell and he was positive there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. At least that's what the hyperactive teen always told him, and there was never any dispute that while WuFei had a tendancy to give Duo a glare upon hearing the statement, he didn't truly much mind the fact. Through the years, the two had created a strange bond that couldn't be explained to their other friends. And the other teens took it as such; it was just the way some people connected. Sort of the same way Heero had taken to being rather protective of Hilde in the past few years. They weren't an item; very probably never would be, but they were inseperable friends nonetheless.
Duo was musing over the friendships he'd made in the big city suburbs and found himself contented, if not entirely happy with the situation. It was his life and until he was eighteen, it was what he had to live with. He liked his parents; in fact he had a much better relationship than most of his friends had with theirs. The Maxwell house became known among them as the Maxwell Orphanage, where any number of parents of teens within the braided boy's social circle could find their kids studying, eating dinner, playing video games, or just hanging out. There was never a shortage of people to talk to there; if anyone needed parental advice, Greg or Helen would lend their ears and experience to the situation.
He was shaken out of his musings by a flash so bright, it appeared to be noon outside in the inky blackness that had taken over the city. A loud rolling crack echoed shortly behind and before he knew it, the pregnant clouds had finally decided to let go of their warm, obese offspring, hurtling large drops toward the wilted earth. A large grin spread over the boy's face and he let out a whoop of joy, dancing around his mostly-dark room, gathering a pair of briefs, shorts and a ratty t-shirt, pulling them onto his sticky frame, desperately trying to keep his hair off his bare back.
Once he was somewhat presentable, he tore out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping briefly to tell his parents he was going out. Helen looked up form her book and smiled, assuring him that they would very probably be asleep by the time he got back and to have a good time. Gregory merely raised an eyebrow, but said nothing at the moment.
Once he was gone, the older man turned to his wife. "You suppose he's going to that Chang kid's place again?" he asked with a grin.
"Oh, you adore WuFei as much as I do," Helen chided, kicking at him. "And so what if Duo has a little crush on him? It's better than some of the other kids in his class."
"As long as he doesn't date that Catalonia girl, I'm fine with it," he sighed, shaking his head. "That girl is trouble."
"Troubled," Helen corrected gently.
"Either way, at least we know if they start going at it, they'll use protection." Duo's father leered at his wife and began scooting toward her. "But enough about Duo for right now…let's just enjoy the weather."
Helen smiled and set her book down. "Let's do that," she agreed.
The rain was still warm, as it never truly did cool down much, particularly in August. There was more of a wind than before, and it started cooling things down by a few degrees, which was more than fine with Duo as he leapt off the top stair of his front porch, sprinted across the wet grass and into the street. There was just something about being able to run in the rain in the middle of the night that always put him at ease when nothing else could and for a long time, he thought there was nothing better. Then, he discovered something wonderful.
After sneaking through the Nelson’s yard to the alley, he stooped to pick up a small handful of large pebbles from the gravel area outside a small fenced yard. Taking careful aim, he threw one at the window, bouncing it hard off the screen. The result was a soft, yet audible tap against the glass behind it. He waited a few moments, then repeated the process.
Five rocks later, the window flew open, and Chang WuFei glared down at the back yard, and his friend. “What?”
“C’mon out!” Duo called to him.
“Are you—” the Chinese teen began, then dropped his voice dramatically, refusing to wake his parents and disturb the neighbors, unlike Duo. “Are you insane? It’s pouring out there.”
Duo grinned and spread his arms wide, tilting his head back and executing a slow twirl in the sodden grass. “I know! Isn’t it great?”
“Would you keep it down? There are people trying to sleep,” WuFei scowled. Duo still had yet to learn that not everyone stayed up until all hours of the night, and therefore, he wasn’t the most considerate of people at times.
Duo’s response was a wicked grin. “Then come play with me, Wu!” he demanded playfully.
“Keep it down! I’m serious!”
“Come out with me, then!”
There was an exaspirated sigh from the upstairs window and it shut abruptly. The blue-eyed teen grinned to himself and padded over to the back porch, waiting with an expectant smile. Sure enough, the door was yanked open moment later by a rather unhappy looking WuFei.
“And for the last fucking time, Duo, would you quit calling me ‘Wu’?” he hissed quietly, sitting down on the porch to pull on his shoes.
“I only tease you because I love you,” Duo flirted shamelessly. He knew that WuFei didn’t take him seriously on the subject, so he couldn’t resist using it to his advantage every now and again. “Ne, why are you putting those on?” He reached down and plucked the runners from the other boy’s hands and tossed them back into the house, wincing slightly when they thudded heavily against the hallway wall.
“Duo! What the--” WuFei objected as he was pulled to his feet and out into the rain.
“Come on!” the braided teen urged, tugging his friend out into the alley, heedless of the rocks in the small gravel driveway.
“Ouch! Dammit, Maxwell…” WuFei cursed, picking his way over the sharp rocks. The other thing his friend hadn’t quite grasped was the fact that most people wore shoes, and consequently didn’t have thick callouses on the soles of their feet.
“Don’t be a pussy,” Duo snickered, half-dragging WuFei behind him onto the side street and up to the next, where there certainly wasn’t any traffic, particularly not so late at night.
“What?!” WuFei hated it when Duo read Stephen King; he started using old slang and got wild ideas about following the train tracks that ran parallel to their streets, several blocks up. Thankfully, there was a shortage of dead bodies, or God only knows what the long-haired maniac would come up with. It was bad enough when he spent hours holed up in his upstairs bedroom with Quatre, plotting out wild ideas that would make most grown men whimper in fear.
“You heard me,” Duo cackled. “Pussy.”
“I’m going to burn that book of yours,” WuFei threatened for the umpteenth time.
“Of course you will,” the American laughed. That was impossible; WuFei loved books as much as he did. “Now get ready!”
“Huh?”
Duo rolled his eyes. For someone as smart as WuFei was, there were times he could be so incredibly dense. “Race you to school,” he quipped with a wink, turned and began running down the warm asphalt in the middle of the street.
“Duo! You little shit!” WuFei yelped, immediately giving chase after the laughing idiot that was already half a block away. He should have known.
The next few minutes were spent with Duo laughing like a kid, splashing in the rain, kicking up gouts of water at his much better dressed friend, and WuFei making grabs at Duo’s rope of hair, threatening to strangle the loudmouth with it. There was no real reason to worry about waking anyone on the street; most everyone was used to the roaring thunder that shook entire houses, so not much ever woke them at all. They were neck and neck with each other when they finally hit the grounds of the local high school and with a final burst of energy, WuFei leapt and tackled his friend, both of them landing in the muddy grass with a squish.
Duo landed first with a surprised “oof!”, followed by a monosylable grunt as WuFei’s weight thudded down on him a moment later. WuFei smirked and planted a kiss on his nose before rolling away and sprinted off to the usual place they hung out under some eves on a large platform of sandstone near one of the wing doors of the building.
In turn, the longhaired boy twitched and watched WuFei run off. For someone who spent the majority of his time being so incredibly serious, there were brief moments when the Chinese teen would display the strangest sense of humor. It was those times when Duo never knew what to think of his friend; no one else had ever seemed to have seen this side of the other boy and the fact both pleased and disturbed him at the same time.
“Well, that was just fucking weird of you,” the braided teen remarked, sitting next to his friend with a soggy thud.
“Mm?” WuFei glanced out of the corner of his eye at Duo.
“You kissed me on the nose,” he complained, shoving at the stronger boy.
WuFei turned fully, face deadpan, black eyes boring into the widened blue of his friend’s. “What, you want me to try again and kiss lower?” he asked.
“I…” Duo stammered, blushing furiously. “That’s not funny, dude.”
He shrugged. “I just thought you’d want me to, is all,” the Chinese boy responded. “If I’m wrong, I appologize.”
“Wha…who told you?!” the paler boy demanded.
“Hilde.”
“I told her to keep her mouth shut,” he swore.
“Well, you know Hilde,” WuFei said with another shrug.
Duo nodded miserably. He’d known the dark-haired girl for most of his life and knew that on top of being a romantic, she was also a ruthless matchmaker. He wouldn’t have even let her know, but she had known him all-too-well from the years they spent together and she knew just what questions to ask, so as to find out any secret from him. Sometimes he cursed his inablility to lie, since it normally ended in Hilde knowing some pretty interesting things about him.
They sat in companionable silence for a while before WuFei turned and pulled a brick out of the wall behind them, pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit two and handed one to the brooding boy beside him. “Don’t be too pissed at her,” he commented, smoke dancing around him in blue-gray wisps before disappearing in the updrafts above them. “She just thought that I had the right to know.”
“Well, she shouldn’t have said anything!” Duo snapped, taking a long drag off the Kamel. “I told her not to tell you and I thought she’d keep her word on that.”
“So you thought I shouldn’t have the right to know when my best friend has feelings for me?” the other boy asked in an infuriatingly calm voice that grated on Duo’s nerves. “My best male friend, at that?”
“Yeah, so now you’re totally grossed out and you’re gonna tell me that shit doesn’t fly with you so I’d better get out of your sight,” he retorted, hurt.
“I didn’t say that,” WuFei informed him. “You always jump to conclusions.”
“And I’m damn near always right,” Duo hissed.
“Well this time, all you’re doing is getting yourself worked up over words you put in my mouth, and I don’t appreciate it,” the dark-haired boy stated bluntly.
“No, but I don’t appreciate being ignored and avoided for three days, either,” he railed, exhaling sharply. “That was when she told you, wasn’t it? When we were all hanging out at Trowa’s roleplaying.”
“Yes,” he replied simply. “Duo, you have always been honest with me and I feel it is only fair that I be honest with you.”
Duo swallowed hard. He knew that he would be rejected, which is why he had never made any moves on WuFei or indicated in any way that he felt differently for the Chinese boy than any of their other friends. He knew that WuFei would try to be tactful as he could about it, but it was still going to hurt. He nodded and wished that he was at home where he could try and swipe some liquor without his parents noticing. Granted, they probably would, but it would be worth the questioning and possible punishment that followed.
WuFei finished his cigarette, gathering his thoughts. He’s spent the last three days pondering how he was going to deal with the information he’d been given after a marathon session of the game they were testing for Trowa before he attempted to submit it to a few companies. The admission had shocked him and he had felt rather uncomfortable with the knowledge at first. He told Duo that, being careful to monitor his friend’s reactions from the corner of his vision.
“It just seemed rather odd to me, since I had never considered the possibility,” he clarified, shaking his head. “I wasn’t aware anyone would have been interested at any time.”
“But you always tell me about girls like Sally that you kinda like…”
“Please don’t interupt, Duo.” It was hard for him to talk about his feelings, particularly when the subject of the pretty upperclassman was brought up. He’d had a crush on Sally Po for a while, although he knew that she was very much not interested in anyone but her boyfriend of five years, Abdul. “What I am trying to say is that I think perhaps I was more shocked by the knowledge that someone liked me, rather than who, although that was certainly a kick in the teeth.”
Duo fidgeted slightly. It was true that neither of them were very popular at all in school, but certainly he wasn’t the only one that had noticed the athletic sloe-eyed boy beside him! There was so much to see there; intelligence, a quick wit and sarcastic sense of humor that boardered on pure cynicism, a talent for music and written word, the ability to listen and understand without explanation. He was a calming effect to Duo’s reckless energy and the American admitted many times that it was purely WuFei alone that kept him grounded some days. He was one of the only people that Duo felt completely safe with in silence and conversation both; conversations about things he would never tell another soul, living or dead.
“You never treated me any differently than the others and even when we were alone, you never gave me any indication,” WuFei continued. “If I thought about it, I would very probably be angry with you for lying to me that way. You have told me everything else that has crossed your mind since we were ten years old, whether I wanted to hear it or not. Christ, you told me all about your seventh grade physical! In excruciating detail!”
“That nurse’s hands were freezing!” Duo defended. After all these years, it still gave him the heebie jeebies to think about people in latex gloves with cold hands feeling around down there, inspecting his boys.
“So I began to wonder,” WuFei continued, as though he hadn’t heard his friend’s interuption. “Why you wouldn’t tell me something this important. I have never turned you away for any observation in the past and I couldn’t understand why you felt you couldn’t tell me this little thing. And the only conclusion I can come to bothers me.” Here, he turned his head to look Duo in the eyes. “Duo…are you afraid of me?”
He had to stop and think about that. Was he afraid of WuFei? Physically, he knew that the slightly shorter boy could overpower him through sheer muscle and martial arts prowess. And there were things they spoke of together; things that other people wouldn’t understand. Thoughts and speculations that stepped over the line of dark into disturbing. Would either of them truly be capable of the things they spoke of in hushed tones? Was he really, honestly afraid of his best friend?
“Wu…WuFei,” Duo began, trying to hide the tremor in his voice. “There’s not an easy answer to that. Sure, you can kick my ass and all that, but I don’t think that’s the kind of fear I feel. I don’t even think that I would ever have to worry about you purposely hurting me, ever. But what I am afraid of…”
He took a breath. It was now or never. “What I’m scared of, ‘Fei, is the thought that you won’t be my friend anymore. I’m terrified of losing you.” He looked down to the platform, evidence of snubbed out tobacco streaking the pockmarked stone beneath them. “I really don’t know what I’d do without you. I mean, half the time, I want nothing to change at all…but sometimes, I just want to hold you and not let go.” His breath hitched in his chest and he tried to still it. The last thing he needed was to do something stupid like cry.
“I never knew you felt that way,” WuFei told him simply. That was something that he was going to need to process. “I don’t know how to respond to that at all. I wish I did.”
Duo shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, man. We can just forget all of it.”
“No.” WuFei crawled onto his hands and knees, leaning toward his friend. “No, we can’t forget all about it. Maybe you can, but I can’t.”
“I can’t either and that’s the problem!” the blue-eyed teen cried. “I can’t just put you out of my mind. I always thought that I liked girls…I’m supposed to like girls and I do…but I like you, too. I want to know what it’s like to hold you, to be held, and fall asleep.”
“You do know,” WuFei pointed out quietly.
Duo blinked and remembered the night when WuFei had been spending the night shortly after they had started spending time together. Mr and Mrs. Chang had been out of town for a conference and the Maxwells had opened their doors to the quiet boy for the weekend. In the middle of the night, Duo had woken to the sound of sobbing and found his friend curled in a corner of the large bed they were sharing, wrapped around a pillow, trying to muffle his sobs. Duo crawled over to ask what was wrong and had found himself clung to by the other boy as the tale of why he left the private school rushed out between uneven gulps of air and tears.
>>He had been walking away from Sylvia Noventa after an argument over the project their class was doing for a local art show and from nowhere, an old primer-colored Thunderbird roared around the corner near the school, going far over the twenty-mile an hour speed limit for the area. Windows had been rolled down previously and all he saw was two men in ski masks leaning out above the doors with semiautomatic weapons. They began firing and the strange sounds echoed everywhere. Other children began screaming and some hit the ground immediately. Others ran while teachers tried desperately to control the situation. All he could do was stand there, terrified. He remembered the sharp smell of earth; the smell of fear.
The blond girl fell quickly, as she couldn’t do much against the bullets as the ripped her clothing apart, spattering blood everywhere, covering his left side. When she fell to the ground, a few last rounds had been fired and there was a loud ping nearby. The ricochet off the monkey bars should have hit him. It nearly did hit him. But instead, Ron Meiran hit him first, pushing him to the ground. He felt the sharp sting of skin ripping on his palms, gravel embedding itself into his hands and knees, ripping his pants. The shock of hitting the ground on four points alone sent shocks of pain into his arms and legs and he turned to yell at her for pushing him.
She was a bully and had always enjoyed teasing him, but this time, he was angry enough that he really was going to tell her that was enough. But when he turned, she fell on him, her dark eyes wide. He reflexively caught her and lowered her to her knees beside him. Her small hands clutched at the front of his ruined white dress shirt and her mouth worked soundlessly, a strange gurgling sound coming from her throat. She coughed and a bubble of blood exploded on her lips, spraying his face and getting in his eyes. He cried out and pushed her away, trying to blink the foreign substance from his vision and was suddenly moved away from her by the kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Darlian as his own teacher, Mr. Otto tried to help Sylvia.
He watched as the blonde woman attempted to get any response from Meiran, but it was too late. Even CPR was useless to a dead child, no matter how badly he wanted it to be a lie. Kids just didn’t die. It wasn’t real in his mind at the moment. Not until the ambulance came and the Emergency Medical Technicians tried to move the still body of the pigtailed girl away and they couldn’t without cutting away part of his shirt, because they couldn’t get Meiran’s fist to open.
He asked why…he remembered asking why over and over. When they told him she was dead, he refused to believe it. He just knew it was one of her tricks. She was always playing them and adults always believed her. He pushed at her, then yelled, then actually slapped her to get her to let go, even though he was probably going to get detention for it, or worse, and his parents would certianly have grounded him for hitting a girl. But when his hand laid across her cheek and he realized just how cold her skin was, he looked closer. Her eyes were glassy and hadn’t been closed, so they patially stared up at the impossibly blue sky, although they were slightly rolled up into the sockets, giving an eerie appearance that disturbed him. Her lips were a strange shade of purple-blue, particularly at the corners and they hung open, slack and she wasn’t moving. She truly wasn’t moving. She wasn’t breathing. She wasn’t blinking, or breaking out into a smile, or responding to his verbal abuse then finally his acquiesence of her self-proclaimed nickname he always told her was so stupid. If calling her Nataku would get her to stop, he would call her that. Anything to make her stop scaring him.
But in the end, he merely sat there, Mrs. Darlian wrapping him in her blazer after his shirt had been left in shreds from being cut apart. He tried calling after her…Nataku …she had to answer him…but she never did and he finally sank back against the sobbing woman who held him close, stroking his baby fine black hair, rocking him slightly. That was the last thing he remembered before waking in his bed three days later.
And then, months later, he woke again with that strange feeling of loss and fear and helplessness cutting off his breathing in a strange house, his parents miles away. He tried desperately to make his heart stop hammering so loudly, since he just knew it was going to wake up Duo and he didn’t want the other boy to tease him for being a crybaby. But apparently he wasn’t quiet enough, because he felt the other boy crawl up behind him and ask what was wrong. He couldn’t answer; his throat was closed off by tears and snot and all he could do was turn and cling to his friend, trying desperately to hold himself together.
In the end, Duo merely put his own arms around the terrified boy, laying down next to him. WuFei had been absolutely certain that it had been the smaller, skinnier boy that had actually kept him from breaking into a thousand pieces caused by the shrapnel from his own heart and he slowly succumbed to sleep, safe in the arms of someone who didn’t laugh. From that moment, he realized that Duo would never laugh. And he never had.<<
“That was different,” Duo said, shaking his head again. “We were kids and I didn’t feel that way about anyone. You were hurting and scared. There was nothing remotely attraction-based there. You needed me and I was there.”
“Then that shouldn’t change if you did it again now,” WuFei told him matter-of-factly. “But this time, you need me and I’ll be here.” Before Duo could say more, WuFei crawled closer, sat beside his friend and gathered the braided boy into his arms.
Duo struggeld slightly against the stronger teen and pushed against WuFei’s chest. “No! You don’t understand! This is different! This time, I do feel attracted to you.”
“How is it that different? There is comfort to be had and if I can offer it to you, then I will,” the Chinese boy argued. “I don’t have a problem with you being this close to me; I never have. And if that’s what you want, then I can do that for you.”
“Could you really?” The American’s voice was bitter. “I don’t think you could possibly give me what I really want, ‘Fei and that’s the problem. You aren’t understanding what I need from you.”
WuFei hauled Duo up so they could look one another in the eyes. “Then make me understand. Talk to me and tell me what you want. Tell me what you need.” Duo shuddered slightly and he glanced up at the sky. There was no sign of the rain letting up and the wind was picking up more. “Let’s go to your house and get you dried off. You can tell me everything there, okay?” He stood and pulled the reluctant boy to his feet.
“Bring the cigarettes with,” Duo requested. “I’m almost out and we’ll need more.”
“What about the carton in your desk?” WuFei asked, carefully wrapping the pack in a sandwich bag and placing in back in the deep hole they’d found by accident one night months before. Technically, there was no tobacco allowed on school grounds, but what wasn’t known wouldn’t hurt anyone. Not too many people even bothered with the area under the lighted eves. Most weren’t small enough and the few that were didn’t tend to want to crawl up into a place that was likely near impossible to get to in the first place.
“Forgot about that,” the chestnut-haired boy admitted, crouching on his feet, crawling over to the edge and lowering himself off the ledge. “Never mind, then.”
WuFei nodded and climbed down after him, and they made their way through the sheets of warm rain, not speaking. The silence was still comfortable and although Duo felt his guts knotting, he knew that all he could do was get home, dried off and then ready to explain everything to the beautiful teen beside him.
“Your hair is a mess,” WuFei observed, holding up the bedraggled braid in front of its owner.
“Fuck,” he muttered unhappily. That was the only thing he really hated about his hair, other than the heat. Long hair tangled into a clump of knots far too easily. “I hope I don’t have to cut the band out again.”
“I don’t think you will,” WuFei murmured, reluctant to let the plait go. He idly wondered if Duo would take his hair out with him in the room. In all the years that they had known each other, WuFei had never seen his friend with his hair down. It was always pulled back from his face in one way or other; in fact, he was almost certain the only person who had ever seen the American without some sort of hair accessory, other than his parents, perhaps, was Hilde. “Do you need me to help you?”
Duo began fidgeting again. He really never felt comfortable with his hair down around anyone. But then again, he knew that he was going to have to give some trust in order for WuFei to fully understand the scope of what he was talking about earlier. “Yeah, please,” he whispered after a few minutes.
WuFei nodded and stood to search for a brush. As he did, Duo stripped of his shirt and wrapped a towel around his shoulders. WuFei had already changed into a spare pair of threadbare sweatpants and a t-shirt, having a few pairs over at the Maxwell house for cases like this. After a few moments of kicking aside a pile of clothes, rummaging over the top of Duo’s desk, and combing the floor with his eyes, he finally found the brush on the back of the beat-up recliner on the corner. “Why don’t you change first, okay?” he offered the long-haired boy. “It’ll be warmer.”
“It’s already too warm,” Duo complained good-naturedly, but quickly stripped out of his sodden clothing, leaving to toss it in the laundry hamper at the end of the hall and returning. “You just wanted to get me naked, didn’t you?” he teased, trying desperately to keep the situation the same as it had always been, but it felt strange to make the comment now that he was aware of WuFei’s knowledge.
WuFei blinked. “But I’ve seen you naked…” he started, then trailed off. It was difficult to come to terms with the situation, particularly now that he wasn’t certain whether Duo was teasing or not. “Just get some clothes on, dipshit.” He grabbed at the towel the blue-eyed teen had around his waist, tugged it off and expertly snapped the fabric against his friend’s backside.
“You’re so good to me, ‘Fei,” Duo commented dryly, resisting the urge to scratch at the area that had been hit.
“Duo…”
“I’m getting dressed already!” the American chortled. His laughter was forced, as was his smile, but he had to stop WuFei before he said something Serious. He knew the tone of the other boy’s voice and he couldn’t deal with something like that while he was naked; he felt vulnerable enough at the moment. He pulled on a pair of boxers and a tank top, then plopped unceremoniously onto the bed next to WuFei.
“You’re going to need to sit up,” WuFei commented in a voice just above a whisper.
“Yeah. Just a sec, ‘kay?” Duo requested. He shut the blinds and locked his bedroom door. He didn’t want anyone to see this. He wasn’t even sure he wanted WuFei to see this. But he had agreed to his friend’s help and he wasn’t about to back out if it.
“Your parents trust you with me behind a locked door?” the Chinese boy asked. It was supposed to be a joke, but he was a bit dismayed; Duo told his parents everything. They certainly had to know what was going on with the situation!
“Are you kidding?” Duo snorted, sitting back on the bed again. “My parents love you! They’d be thrilled if they knew…were awake…at least I hope they’re just asleep. Ew.”
“Idiot,” WuFei chuckled, bopping the pale boy in the top of the head with the brush in his grasp. “Do you want me to undo it, too?”
Duo froze. This was going to be beyond awkward.
“Um…sure,” he finally answered.
WuFei took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This was going to be a big step for them both and he knew it. No one touched Duo’s hair. Any girl that even brushed against it while flirting tended to lose her chance with him. Hell, Heero, who had been around Duo since the first day of pre-school, and had always outweighed the smaller boy, found himself kissing dirt in the school yard when he pulled the American’s hair. WuFei was beginning to wonder if Hilde had even ever touched Duo’s hair. Reaching forward, he picked up the rope of hair once again. That stopped him in his tracks once more. Again! He’d done it just a while earlier…with no reprimands…
“Is this okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah,” Duo breathed. “I trust you, ‘Fei. You know that, right?”
Sloe eyes closed. “Yes, Duo. I know you do.” That confession had almost hurt. He understood the underlying meaning of the boy’s words and he was afraid that after all had been said and done, he still wouldn’t be able to care for Duo that way. He carefully pulled the band away from the slightly dripping clump of hair at the bottom of the braid.
Taking care not to pull or break any of the burnished copper strands, he untangled the plait, then took a moment to stare in shock. He realized that Duo’s hair was long; it had to have been to be down to the other boy’s hips in the first place, but when it was lying there like a trio of wet snakes, it was amazing. Duo glanced worriedly over his shoulder for a moment and was obviously calmed by the uncertain smile WuFei gave him.
“I never thought you had so much of this,” he admitted out loud, glancing back down.
“It’s really a bitch to wash,” Duo explained, shaking his head lightly. “Takes forever to dry and the tangles are a total pain.”
“But you’ll never cut it,” WuFei told him with a small smile, attacking the first soggy coil of hair with the brush as gingerly as possible.
“Damn straight,” he agreed with a nod. That pulled slightly on his hair and he winced, but kept quiet.
“It suits you,” the Chinese boy stated simply, beginning to brush again. They stayed that way for several minutes; WuFei brushing at Duo’s hair and Duo trying not to freak out. Eventually, the smaller boy relaxed and began to enjoy the good job his friend was doing. A few minutes later, the American was nearly moaning, his eyes closed lightly, barely keeping himself upright.
“Gaaawd, you’re good at that,” Duo drawled, leaning back against the more solid frame of the boy behind him.
“Thank you, but you’ll tangle it all if you lean back any more,” WuFei chided gently, giving his friend a nudge with his shoulder.
Duo nodded and sat upright again, trying to make his body stop reacting to the fact that the first person to touch his hair in years…nine, to be exact, was the object of his desire, affection and sleepless nights. He squirmed slightly, attempting to stifle his erection by thinking of the most disturbing images possile. Mr. Kushrenada in a tutu…Mueller in a g-string…Mrs. Kushrenada in a g-string…shit…wrong thought… As soon as the mental image of Anne Kushrenada, the Economics teacher in nothing but a scant pair of panties entered his mind, Duo’s cock sprng to life against his wishes.
“Duo, are you okay?” WuFei questioned from behind him. He leaned forward and rested his chin on the shorter boy’s shoulder and couldn’t help but see the object of Duo’s distress. “Anyone I know?” he asked, arching a coal-black eyebrow.
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he sighed.
“It can’t be that bad,” WuFei said, cocking his head to the side. “It’s not like you’re thinking of Dr. Johanssen, are you?”
The thought of the ancient Biology teacher with the creepy glasses and bionic left hand made the blue-eyed teen’s hard on shrivel. “Ugh…fuck no. Thanks, though.” He grinned and blushed a little. “I was thinking of Mrs. K in a g-string...” Mr. Happy sprang back to life immediately. “Dammit…”
“If that’s what’s getting you off and you’ve got a thing for me, I don’t know if I should be insulted or not,” WuFei snorted. Granted, the young woman was pleasant enough to look at, if one thought about it…there were rumors of several students developing crushes on her at first sight, in fact. However, once you were within the confines of her classroom, she turned into a dominating bitch from hell who demanded excellence of all her students and didn’t take any excuses.
“Well, you could always make me forget about her, you know…” Duo teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
WuFei considered his words. It was very probable that Duo was joking again, but there was a sharp pang of…jealousy over the thought that someone like that woman could elicit a reaction that he was supposed to be giving. It certainly couldn’t hurt to see if he could be at all comfortable with the possibility, either…after all, he had wondered what it would be like to do things with another boy after having Hilde’s bombshell dropped on him. He had a less-reluctant interest in sex to begin with, as he was a sixteen-year-old boy full of horomones and questions. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad. Just a kiss, maybe. Duo was his best friend and who better to give one’s first real kiss to? He never did like counting the forced kiss in the coatroom from Meilan when they were in first grade together…even after her death, he couldn’t find a way to make the memory pleasant.
“That would depend on you letting me,” he said, speaking against the hot skin of Duo’s neck. He could feel the other boy’s pulse beating; how it sped up when he let his lips brush over the area just slightly without realizing it until it was too late. Until Duo was struggling to sit forward. “Duo…?” Maybe he had been joking after all.
“Man, I’m only gonna tell you this once,” the long-haired boy half-snapped, crawling over to light a cigarette, back against the headboard, pulling his knees up to his chest, eyeing WuFei warily. Smoke floated out of his mouth and around him as he spoke. “Don’t ever fucking do that again if you ain’t gonna back it up, ‘Fei. I honestly don’t have that much control.”
“I planned on it,” WuFei admitted, growing frustrated. “I just thought maybe I could kiss you or something…”
Duo began choking on a lungful of smoke, his eyes wide. “Are you serious?” he hacked, nearly dropping the cigarette on the bedspread. “Don’t make jokes about shit like that…not now…please…”
“I’m not joking,” he insisted. “If you don’t want me to, then say so, but don’t make me keep guessing about what you want. I can’t read your mind and I thought this was something you wanted…dammit, you’re confusing me and…”
Suddenly, Duo’s mouth was on his and he fell back, taking the slight boy with him, hair pooling around them like a curtain. He tasted ash and a lingering hint of that mess he called ‘swamp water’. There was a slight bit of tobacco smoke left in Duo’s lungs and he inhaled it by accident. He pulled away and coughed a bit; Duo sat up immediately and wound up pressing a hand over his own hair and yelping in pain.
“’Fei…I’m sorry, man…” he half-sobbed. “Shit…I fucked up…”
“Duo.” The Chinese boy coughed and shook his head. “You just had some smoke…”
“Maybe this was a bad idea,” Duo chattered nervously, gathering up his hair that had begun to dry considerably. “Thanks for everything, though…the help with my hair and shit…”
“Duo…”
“I think you can probably unlock the door on your own, there shouldn’t be any trouble with it.”
“Duo!”
The American’s mouth snapped shut and his wide eyes focussed on the boy across the bed from him. He was still a bit wary of the situation, but he knew the tone of voice; WuFei wanted to say something and he knew to shut up and listen. “Yeah?”
WuFei crawled across the bed to where Duo was once again huddled against the wall. “It was an accident. I didn’t know I would be shotgunning some of your smoke, is all.”
“Oh.” Duo felt like an idiot and tried to keep from squirming under the black gaze before him. He nearly stopped breathing when WuFei’s hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders. “Well, this is a little more like I thought it would be, anyway.”
The dark-haired boy smiled slightly. “How did you imagine it?”
He sighed, blushing furiously. “Well, you were definitely supposed to be the one in charge,” he admitted.
WuFei blinked. That was a new one. He’d always imagined that Duo would be the more aggressive partner in any relationship; the cobalt-eyed boy was always very careful about control. For a moment, it sent a strange feeling of pleasure and even a little surge of sexual energy through him. “You wanted me to kiss you?”
“Kinda,” he murmured, looking away. “It’s just be neat to have someone like you in charge.”
WuFei nodded and pulled Duo forward a bit. “Like this, you mean?” he questioned, tilting the shorter boy’s chin upward and taking the kiss, just like Duo had done before. He was a bit uncomfortable with the thought of being the aggressor, but once he felt the braided boy melt against him slightly, it was as though a dam had burst and he claimed the slightly parted lips hard.
Duo whimpered against the onslaught on WuFei’s kiss and moaned outright when he felt the stronger boy’s arms slip behind him, pulling him up and against the darker teen’s body. Being flush against the Chinese boy set his blood on fire and his cock sprang to life, nudging at the slender body before him. This was definitely more intense than he’d thought it would be. Granted, he’d kissed a few people before; Hilde when they were in seventh grade at one random dance or other…there was also the game of spin the bottle at Quatre’s eleventh birthday where he kissed the blond’s older sister Poppy.
Slowly, after what seemed to be an eternity, their lips parted slightly and everything was silent. Duo was certain he could hear his next-door neighbor, the guitarist for a local blues band playing and singing a Melissa Etheridge song with her windows open to the night. He’d fallen asleep to her music on more than one occasion, but hearing that music at the moment was just too ironic. Hie eyes flitted up to meet WuFei’s in a bit of surprise when Elektra’s voice carried over a moment’s respite in the wind and rain.
“Caught in your eyes, lost in your name…I will never be the same…”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” WuFei murmured, his cheeks flushing slightly. That was an admission he’d wanted to save, but the moment was just too right for him to not say it. Things would definitely never be the same between them and how things ended up may very well change their friendship forever. Was he ready for that change? Was Duo ready for it? There was a lot to consider and even more to be prepared to deal with if the answer was yes.
But for the moment, he answered the other boy’s silent question with a soft smile and a gentle brush of his lips over Duo’s. “I think we could try…if you’re okay with it.”
~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~
[1] This is a personal joke between my friend (whom WuFei is based on) and myself from one of the nights where this may have happened, if I hadn’t been chickenshit. *nods* The excerpt was from, of all things, when he finally got around to signing my yearbook, several months late. I'm not telling you guys what all was written in it, as there were a few other old jokes involved, but the line this was taken from was as follows: Just think: A year from now, we'll all look back on this and say, "plastic toothpicks!" Yes, as it has been stated, this man has a very, very bizare sense of humor.
