"I'm fine."

He answers quietly. He lifts his head, looks me right in the eye. And then he smiles, a beautiful, sad little smile, and I realize that this is the first time he's ever really smiled at me. At me...At anyone? This is not his wide, well practiced-grin, but a simple expression of fleeting happiness tainted with acute melancholy. The look in his eyes as he reacts...it's so timid...it reflects an inner sadness that he is so obviously aware of and fighting against.

My friend is smiling, but he's on the verge of tears.

For the first time, he's letting me see the real him.

...And he's scared.

"Heero?" He asks, his voice faltering. I can almost feel the fear rippling off of him in thick waves. I realize that I've been staring at him, trying to understand.

What can I do? What can I say to make his smile stay genuine? How can I keep the real him from hiding again, ducking behind that mask usually so artfully arranged on his face? How can I find words to express the sudden ache that seizes my soul when he smiles like that? He pretends so that others will not see the value of his heart, his mind. By acting carefree and strong and happy, he stops others from considering him, letting them lean heavily on his steadfast presence.

He strives to be taken for granted.

He almost succeeded.

I almost let him.

"It's okay," I pause. I am grateful to him, I want him to know...but I don't want him continue like this, with his frequent grins full of practiced attitude, his smiles rare and aching. I don't know what to say, never mind how to say it. So I clear my throat. "I don't mind if you're not really fine."

There, I managed to say something. Only a short snippet of the things running through my mind, but it's better than nothing. I think it will be enough. I hope.

He is speechless, that tiny smile ghosting away as his jaw drops slightly. A flash of understanding in his eyes, and I know that he knows exactly what I mean.

And then I'm moving, pulling him to me, my friend, my best friend, and I'm hugging him. I've never hugged anyone before, and it feels nice. His warm thin body...responding and clinging to me...fiercely embracing me as silent sobs start to shiver through both of us.

Why am I crying? Why is he? I feel that I'm on the edge of something, the fall into a great state of realization that may change me, and him, and us. Forever.

He's looking at me, pulling away and wiping his eyes. Embarrassment rises to the surface and threatens to carry away this fragile and strong boy in front of me. As I stare into his eyes I can see crumbling walls being rebuilt. It sends panic piercing through me, a physical pain that so eloquently accentuates my intense need, my need to witness my friend for who he really is.

"Don't hide," I whisper, the words escaping before I can consciously formulate them. But it's enough, again, thankfully. As I absently watch one hand come up to brush a thick strand of dark hair from his forehead, I can almost feel the mixed panic, fear, and relief coursing through him. His soft, jaded, damp eyes look at me, taking me in, showing me just how lost he really is.

I want to find him.

My lost friend, I pull him to me again, this time in a loose hug so I can watch his face, his eyes...so I can see him. Slowly, as the minutes and seconds tick away, I feel him relax, the tight muscles in his back loosening beneath my fingers even as I watch his shoulders sag slightly.

I notice that I'm smiling. Really smiling.

He notices too, and before I know it we're both laughing quietly, wrapping arms loosely around each other, our hands twitching slightly as our shoulders quake.

"Thank you."

His whisper is sudden, between breaths, and now we're both smiling, together, and I feel strangely enchanted. I'm not sure what I'm doing, what he's doing, but we're leaning towards each other, our bodies closing the gaps between us until we're pressed together from our shoulders to our toes, our legs and arms entwining even as we keep our faces a fraction of an inch apart. I can feel his warm breath tickling my cheek, and I can hear my heartbeat pounding in my ears, blood rushing through my body as I hold his warmth against me.

I feel so warm. So warm. I want him to feel warm too.

The moment stretches, and I watch as his eyes fall shut even as my own eyelids droop. We close the only remaining space between us and our lips meet...our breath mingles past slightly parted lips and into each other's mouths, trading warmth for warmth. We rest there, our noses nudging against each other and our bodies pressed flush, our mouths joined, an expression of affection and need and acceptance, feelings that I have never experienced, found only now with my best friend. He's not hiding, and neither am I. Our first moment to meet, to let ourselves be truly seen, and we're savoring it, drinking it, tasting it, living it. This moment. Our moment.

Wonderful.

I don't know which of us moves first, but suddenly we begin to kiss, light feather soft caresses as his lips trail sweetly over my mouth and now he's inside, his mouth and mine melding and bringing us together, making us one person for this widening stretch of time.

My hands move of their own accord, gently clasping his shoulders, now cradling his head. My fingers sweep tender touches across his heated skin. My fingers burrow into the thick, silky hair at the crown of his head. My fingers stroke his neck. My fingers feel his pulse as it races in an answering cadence to the pounding of my own heart, my blood, my life.

He's touching me too, gripping my arms, his strong hands clutching at the fabric of my shirt, the bare traces of his fingertips through the cottony material setting my skin afire. He sags backwards, and I realize that I'm pressing him against the wall, and he's slipping, slipping from me as his knees slowly bend. I plant my feet and try to hold on, the moment threatening to slip away with him as he slides down my leg, his own legs now straddling my knee. For the first time I feel the center of his heat pulse against me there, his hips rolling sweetly against my leg, involuntarily, unconsciously, he responds to my touches, our kiss, in the most basic and pure way.

I am amazed.

A tide of desire and passion and lust and pure need for him, it washes over me, and I vaguely hear my voice moan and I feel as though I'm drowning in the sensations. I realize that we're sitting on the floor now, and I'm kneeling over one of his legs, my own center of heat now pulsing against his thigh. A small inarticulate growl escapes the melding of our lips, and we're so close and so in sync that I don't know which of us it comes from.

My hands move again, and my fingers are tracing over his collarbone. His shirt is unbuttoned. I don't know when that happened, but it is so very, very good. Now my shirt is open too, and his hands are on my skin, moving around me, now on my back and pulling me down, down on top of him as he slides the rest of the way down the wall, to the floor, from leaning to lying. Down, down, until he's flat on his back and I'm on top of him. He's pushing up against me even as he pulls me onto, with, and into him. Movement. Our heat. The moment is stretching, stretching...we're balancing on the moment.

Two choked cries escape the edges of our kiss, and the moment finally snaps in an explosion of fire and light and intensity. I feel my face flush at the warm wetness, but I am not ashamed; he did it too...and I'm so glad.

I did it to him; he did it to me. We. Us. Yes.

We move our lips together for a long second more, a chaste kiss, holding on to each other as time returns to normal, as we feel the broken remains of the moment begin to fade forever into our memories.

We break apart, both panting, still holding tightly. I look down at him, there's more happiness than sorrow in his eyes. His face is flushed too, a radiant glow, and I feel a swell of pride. A rush of sheer joy. Acceptance mirrored in his face.

His eyes say that we've found something. Our moment, the first. Our first. He tightens his arms around me, a simple hug.

I've made him happy.

...Good. I'm happy, too.

I hug him back. And then he smiles.