WARNINGS: Hints of 1x2. Mild language. Fun, sappy, and
DISCLAIMERS: I didn't hit the lottery so I can't buy Duo or
Heero. I console myself by eating chocolate every night.
ARCHIVE: On my site, Maxwell's Salvage, or help yourself.
FEEDBACK: Heck yeah! Bring it on!
SUMMARY: They go to school together. They kiss.
by D C Logan
After Colony history. Great. His least favorite class. He was
quickly approaching the point where killing Heero was sounding
like a good idea. After all, it was his fault he was in this
class, as he'd been the one to put in the transfer record to
this school. It was also one of the few classes they had
together -- again one of Heero's brilliant ideas. Duo suspected
that he'd broken up the schedule for the simple reason that it
made for easy opportunities for Heero to skip out on him when he
needed to. He opened his textbook. Usually they left notes to
each other between the pages of books -- it was an easy way to
communicate without drawing suspicion to themselves. Lately
though, those notes had taken on a different aspect. While still
cryptic enough to confuse a chance look by a fellow classmate --
the messages were getting downright personal and private. Heero
hadn't been able to arrange for a shared dormitory during this
transfer, and after two weeks things were getting, um,
interesting. Heero had never pursued him with such an
unrelenting single-mindedness before.
Duo opened the book to page 195. A small slip of paper was
jammed into the binding edge with one word on it: "red." He
turned in his seat to glare at Heero. Heero had an unholy glint
in his eye, and he stared back unflinchingly despite the looks a
handful of their classmates were shifting between the two of
them. Mercifully enough, the teacher had called the class to
attention at that point, and directed everyone's attention to
the front of the room. But Duo could still feel Heero's stare
hot on his back. Red, the color of his briefs today. How the
hell had he known?
It was only second period, and the other students were already
beginning to suspect an approaching confrontation. Duo had
initially denied any friendship with his fellow transfer, so
naturally everyone in his class assumed that they were mutual
enemies. The truth couldn't have been farther from that -- but he
wasn't about to enlighten anyone as to their real relationship.
Hiding the fact that they were terrorists was difficult enough
without drawing even more personal attention to themselves.
Class ended without the two of them killing each other, and they
avoided any contact on the way to third-period classes -- he had
this one on his own. He found Heero's second note tucked between
the books in his hall locker. Dammit -- his new lock was supposed
to be pickproof -- he hadn't even been able to unlatch it
without its fancy magnetic key. It figured that Heero could open
it in the twenty-second head start he'd had on Duo. The guy was
freaking incredible sometimes. Okay, most of the time. This note
was another cryptic one-word hint: "touch." He stared into his
locker, trying to puzzle out the clue. Huh, maybe the next note
would explain it further. He shut the locker door and turned to
leave for his next class. And found himself face to face less
than three handspans from Heero's chest. He couldn't do anything
he wanted to do -- not with all of the students in the hall,
some of them staring openly at the pair of them, waiting for the
Heero reached out and touched Duo gently in the center of his
chest -- directly over his heart -- and pushed hard -- forcing Duo
to step back against the cool metal of his locker. His eyes
fixed on Heero's face, trying to maintain a passive expression
for their collective audience. Heero broke contact first, and
took himself and his assorted Duo-cursed body parts down the
hall to his next class. Leaving Duo leaning against the wall of
lockers, trying to figure out what had just happened. He could
still feel the burning imprint of Heero's fingertip through the
fabric of his uniform. And he carried the visceral memory of the
touch with him to his next class, rubbing the invisible brand
Third period (Physics of Space) was uneventful. Without Heero to
distract him, it was even interesting in a very basic sort of
way. Or at least it would have been if thoughts of an annoyingly
persuasive Gundam pilot didn't keep interrupting his studies.
The class must have ended though, because he found himself
walking up the long staircase to the second-floor salle without
remembering the second half of it. Fencing class was next
He was still in the beginners group, Heero was in the expert
class -- only two other students were even close to his skill
level -- and that was with him trying to blend. Yeah, right, he
blends. The good news was their instructor often had the basic
and intermediate students watch Heero spar with the advanced
group. Forty minutes of unabashedly drooling over his bod. With
no one the wiser. Yum. He hiked up the stairs, completely
oblivious to Heero's silent footfalls matching him stride for
stride three steps below him. Unaware of the hungry way Heero
was eyeing the fit of his uniform trousers.
Duo turned around, startled, in the locker room. Heero was
standing right behind him again. Geez, how was he doing that!
As sensitive as he was to his presence, he should have felt him
enter the room. There was no way he should have been able to
sneak up on him like that -- not with his firmly entrenched
street instincts. He put on an annoyed expression for the sake
of their audience. "Can you stomp your feet or wear a bell or
something? I'm getting really tired of you sneaking up on me."
Heero's glance tracked up and down, noting Duo's partial state
of dress. He of course was completely dressed in his white
dueling suit, his face guard tucked under his arm. They held the
collective attention of a handful of other students who watched
curiously. Heero abruptly raised his fist under Duo's nose.
There was a folded note tucked between his fingers, "Looking for
this?" Duo's gaze hardened. This was a private matter between
them, but now it was indisputably public. Great. Heero was
He took the note, threw back the glare, and intentionally
snubbed him -- turning his back to Heero's face with a complete
disregard for exposing himself to a possible strike. He watched
the expressions of his other stilled classmates, when they
relaxed, he felt safe enough to work at shrugging back into his
The class was boring after that. Instead of getting to watch
Heero, Instructor Jecons had him practice lunges against a fixed
target. The way his thighs were killing him, it would be a
miracle if he could walk to the next class. And a reason to fax
Rome if he felt up to giving in to Heero's idea of fun anytime
soon. It gave him a whole new appreciation for Heero's lower
body flexibility and strength though...
Duo finally read the note as he changed back into his uniform.
"Tonight." Great. Okay, as much as he wouldn't really mind
jumping his bones, he couldn't for the life of him figure out
how Heero was going to arrange some private time for the two of
them. But that was Heero for you, he just assumed that he would
follow his lead. He stopped in his tracks, thinking, and a smile
slowly broadened across his face. He'd have to see about that.
It was time for Heero to stop taking him for granted.
He took a moment to rip a corner off a page of his homework and
scrawl a response on it. Now it was just a matter of locating
his opponent, and he found him standing just outside the door to
their next class. He waited until he had the attention of their
new audience and stalked up to him, stopping squarely in front
of him. He reached out and dropped his note on top of the book
that Heero was holding to his chest. Heero's look bled from
curious to annoyed, but he reached up with his other hand to
accept the folded slip of paper without looking at its contents.
Duo filed into the class with the others, dropped down into his
seat and listened for the soft impact of Heero dropping his book
on the desk behind him. He waited, counting the seconds until
Heero considered it safe to read his response. Five, four,
three, two... The legs on the desk behind him shifted on the
tile floor with an unforgiving screech. Heero had read his reply
-- "tomorrow" -- and hadn't been pleased. Heh. Good. He flipped
the tail end of his braid over the back of his chair and settled
in to enjoy the moment.
This was one of his favorite classes -- 21st Century Literature,
and normally he'd be paying attention to the subject matter
instead of the guy sitting behind him. But Heero's presence
practically radiated heat and intensity. And sitting less than a
meter in front of him wasn't wasn't all that conducive to
absorbing iambic pentameter. Frankly, it was damned distracting.
And despite Heero's high-handedness, he'd be the first to admit
that their attraction to each other routinely got in the way of
their cover story. ...Sometimes that was part of the attraction.
He didn't remember the end of that class either. (Heero wasn't
doing his academics any favors this time out.) Definitely he'd
make sure they roomed together at the next school -- whatever it
took to arrange it. This was driving him insane, to say nothing
about what it must be doing to Heero, sitting behind him and
fuming for forty minutes. And though he hadn't turned to check
on him, the expressions on the students sitting on either side
of him were quite telling. The next break bell would take
careful management -- Heero was close to the edge now. Of course,
since he'd balanced him there with his last note, he couldn't
really blame him...
He watched the clock, and in anticipation of the ending bell,
gathered his book and papers together and stacked them on the
side of his desk -- preparing to make a mad dash out of the room.
He needn't have bothered with his preparations. The bell rang,
the teacher and the rest of the class shuffled out in their
usual noisy, disorganized fashion. And he was held immobile in
his seat by the hand casually resting on his left shoulder.
Yeah, resting lightly, but with an implied threat of violence
that kept him pinned in place while the rest of the class
exited, letting the door close behind them. Leaving the two of
them in the room alone. The thrill or excitement that came with
the knowledge that he'd pushed Heero to his limits yet again
touched a hot excited part of him that lived deep in the core of
his soul. It was pretty heady stuff, and Heero hadn't even moved
yet. ...But then he did.
Heero stood, and slid his hand lightly down Duo's arm until he
reached his wrist. This he grasped firmly and used as a leash to
drag him from his desk and half stumbling to the back of the
classroom, bringing him up behind the partial shield of large
empty desk. He slung Duo's body, slack with surprise and
acceptance, against the wall-length chalkboard, and successfully
blocked his only avenue of escape by bracing his arms on either
side of Duo's shoulders and staring directly at him with open
and frank interest.
This was what had been building up in him the entire day, the
entire hour, the last few seconds. Heero moved his hands to
frame Duo's face. He was acting like a man in love, or at the
least, very serious lust. But there was a gentleness in his
touch that was as unexpected as it was deliberate. Heero could
easily crush Duo's skull with bare hands -- but they were gentle
on his body. Reverent. As if in quiet worship at his private
He lowered his face to Duo and took possession of him. His life,
his soul. Duo couldn't withstand the onslaught of emotion. His
balance and sense of all that was vertical collapsed, taking his
body with him. And Heero followed, as he always would. His kiss
promised all of that and more. Wherever you go -- I follow.
Wherever it takes us. No matter what.
When Heero looked down, there was a different person in Duo's
eyes; the boastful noisy boy was gone, replaced by a solemn
youth with a question hanging between them. And an answer
The moment was shattered by a loud bang in the hall and the
sound of the next class assembling outside of the room.
Heero straightened quickly, using his body as a shield to allow
Duo a few seconds to regain his composure. A fellow classmate
brashly slammed into the classroom and pulled himself up
abruptly -- taking in the room's occupants and the quiet between
"So, did you guys kiss and make up or what?" And then he stopped
and took a second look at the two of them, in the back of the
classroom, between periods. And he saw the look they traded
between them. There was a weight to that gaze and something else
behind it. Oh shit... Correctly interpreting that he'd
interrupted something he had no business in, he turned and ran
from the room. Heero turned, gave a puzzled look at Duo, and
chased after the intruder.
Duo braced himself against the wall and slowly, painfully,
levered his body into a standing position. Chalk dust was
floating in the air from where his head had slammed into the
slate. He'd never thought of the smell of chalk as erotic
before; he'd never think of it in any other way again. Moving
slowly as if unsure that everything was working properly, he
made his way back to his desk for his books. He shook his head
to clear it, and ran a shaky hand over his hair to smooth it
back into place.
"Well, isn't that just like Heero. Kiss me into a puddle and run
That staggering kiss aside, he had just enough time to make it
to his next class -- study hall in the library. He slipped in as
the closing bell rang, and collapsed in his usual seat next to
the atrium window. His mind still reeling from the intensity of
the kiss, it took him a few moments to notice something
different. There was a small piece of paper sticking out from
the edge of his book. It hadn't been there before.
He pulled the slip of paper free, and had to laugh out loud. In
Heero's precise letting was another one of his single-word notes
-- "tonight," but this time underlined twice, the lines the exact
width of the letters. He'd made his point clear all right. And
after that moment at the back of the classroom, yeah, he was
willing to find Heero in whatever dank little private corner he
managed to acquire.
He started to tear the note into pieces when a line of copy on
the reverse caught his eye, and froze his heart. Two words this
time. Two precious words from a man who only ever used one. In
his neat, precise letters, in the center of the note, two whole
words: "love you."