But the bastard threw me another curve ball.

I came home to my current crappy apartment one night to find the ENTIRE place carpeted in flowers. Not just any flowers, either -- roses, with every single thorn removed. Red ones and white ones. Love and friendship. I get Shakespearean sonnets on my answering machine. I get boxes of chocolate showing up in my locker at school. And it doesn't matter where I am, how deep undercover I might be, or how far away he is, somehow these gifts manage to find me at least once a week.

He must have found some sort of freakin' manual, like "Romance for Dummies" or something, because even he isn't crazy enough to ask advice from the only person that I know of who would be THIS extravagant. Right? God, who am I kidding? Yes, he is that crazy. I can see it now, him sending an email to the good ol' General, "Dear Treize. You seem old, and you're pretty fruity, plus I'm fairly certain you were boffing Zechs at some point, so I was wondering if you could tell me how to woo another guy. Respectfully yours, Pilot 01."

I've lost control of this game. How does such an inflexible, anal-retentive guy keep SURPRISING me? He was supposed to beg and grovel until I took him back, not make me fall head-over-heels for him! I coulda handled the flowers, and the chocolate, and the sonnets, because none of that shit really means anything, necessarily -- it's standard dating crap, except that Heero, being Heero, went WAY overboard with it. No, what did me in was the little stuff -- the hair ties that match my eyes, the seashells and dried flowers accompanied by little notes saying he saw them in such-and-such a location, on a mission, and thought of me, his tie from the uniform of the first school we attended together, copies of books I like but have never owned, shampoo and conditioner that smell like cinnamon, which I happened to mention was my favourite scent just ONCE... Christ, he even sent replacements for all the parts he stole from Deathscythe! I don't GET him. How did Heero manage to be so clueless that he'd pay me for sex one week, and turn into the King of Romance the next?

The only thing missing is the man himself. This has been going on for months now and I haven't so much as seen one glimpse of him. I know our lives are damn busy with missions, but we've all generally been able to find a day or two here and there to hook up with each other -- generally in pairs or threes. So why hasn't he come to see me? He can't think he still hasn't done enough... can he?

I'm thinking about him a lot these days. Maybe it's because this school is so much like that first one I was at with him. I keep expecting to look out the window of this dorm room, so very similar to the one I shared with him, and see the sun glinting off the water of the bay in the distance. But no, this school is totally land-locked, there's just city streets and parks for miles. Even the uniforms are pretty much exactly the same, though, except for the colour. Makes me feel like I'm living in circles.

Today I've been skipping classes. Heero would not approve, I'm sure. But classes here are the same old boring shit and it's nice to just chill in my room for a little while without having to deal with my annoying roomie. I've got the window open to let in some fresh air, even though my roomie complains about how the air in this city is anything BUT fresh. I say he's never been on a Colony; as far as I'm concerned, any air that hasn't been filtered, sanitized and re-circulated forty times is fresh. And when the truant officer comes a'looking for me, I just hop out that open window before he's even got the doorknob turned all the way.

Okay, so maybe relaxation and fresh air aren't the only reasons I'm hiding out in here. Truth be told, I've pissed off some bully or another. He'll find me eventually, of course, but it's nice to put it off for a little while, at least, because when he DOES find me I'm gonna have to sit there and take the damn beating. Why? Well, it's like Robin. Y'know, like, Batman and Robin? Old comic books -- my secret vice. Anyway, in this one storyline, some bullies were picking on Robin -- Tim Drake, that is, his "secret identity" -- and because there were witnesses he couldn't do a damn thing about it or everyone would know there was more to him than meets the eye, and then his cover could soon be blown. It's like that for me, too. As far as anyone here knows I'm just 95 pounds of easygoing, sweet Ordinary Guy. If I took down 200-plus pounds of angry, hulking Football Player without so much as breaking a sweat, well, there would be questions. Questions I don't have any easy answers for. Which means eventually I'm gonna have to let him find me and give me his idea of a good beating. I hate getting pummeled by amateurs, it's demeaning. Sometimes, my job really sucks.

Just about 3:00. Classes are gonna be letting out for the day soon -- might as well get this over with, huh?

By the time I make it outside the bell has rung and other students start streaming past -- the lucky ones who live off-campus and so get to leave at the end of the day. Fuck, but it's a gorgeous day out. I kinda waver back and forth between hating Earth, and loving it. Some things about Earth my body is having a lot of trouble adjusting to and, while the doc prepared me enough that I can function in just about any conditions for at least a little while, those things can make me pretty damn miserable; things like rain and snow, extremes of temperatures and the way the air feels so heavy when it's really humid out, for instance. But I love the way the moon looks at night, and the sound of ocean waves lapping against the rocks of the shore. I love fields of wildflowers, so unlike the planned, meticulously arranged gardens of the Colonies. I love the sky the way it looks today -- so blue, cloud-free and vast, wide-open and free. I love the SUN. The lighting on the Colonies is supposed to be a pretty good substitute for sunlight, medically speaking -- close enough that we don't get stuck with permanent Seasonal Affective Disorder, close enough that plants will grow and thrive, and theoretically so will people -- but it's not the SAME. No, the light on the Colonies is directionless and cold, impersonal and uncaring. The sun had PERSONALITY; the sun can be cruel, baking the earth into cracked wastelands, and the sun can be warm and loving and gentle like it is today.

"MAXWELL!"

Yep, a mighty fine day for a beating. Sigh.

Might as well get the gorilla in shit while I'm at it. I duck back inside the building, into an empty classroom. If I'm lucky, a teacher will catch him and stop things before they get too far. On the other hand, he is one of the school's star football players, so they might just ignore the fight until it's too late for him to get into trouble. I do pick my enemies well, don't I?

The doorframe is quite suddenly filled by broad shoulders topped by a short, bullish neck and a tiny little pinhead. "There you are, Maxwell. Nowhere left to run, little girl."

Someday, someone will come up with an insult I actually HAVEN'T heard a thousand times, and I'll die of shock on the spot. "Looks that way, huh?" Ape-man's face darkens. They hate it when I'm not afraid of them.

And then he's slowly lumbering his way across the room to get in my face. Pretty literally, too -- my nose is almost touching his chest. Now, I know every fifteen-year-old says this, but life is so totally unfair. Here we are, two guys, same age, and he's a foot taller than me and well over twice my weight. And it's not like I'll ever "catch up," either; I suffered from malnutrition right up until I was twelve, and since then I've been eating like a normal fifteen-year-old boy while putting more strain on my body than any normal fifteen-year-old could even imagine. I will never be over six feet tall. I'll be lucky to reach 5'5". I'll be lucky to reach age 16, for that matter, while this moron will probably still be bullying people when he's ninety years old and living in a nursing home.

When I refuse to scuttle back from his invasion of my space, the Neanderthal shoves me back. At least he's not smart enough to notice that I managed to take most of the impact with the wall on my back and spread arms, rather than letting my head slam into the cheap plaster. I slump down to the floor in a convincingly limp heap of limbs anyway, hoping that if I play along he'll leave me alone sooner.

No such luck. He just walks over and pulls back his leg to kick me. But instead of connecting with my ribs, his foot hits the wall with a painful-sounding crack as he inexplicably wobbles off-balance.

The source of the ape's problem becomes clear as I catch sight of another pair of legs behind his. Legs that, despite being clad in a pair of nice slacks, end in a very ugly, very familiar pair of sneakers. Mr. Football Star is howling now, one arm twisted up behind his back at an angle that I happen to know for a fact hurts like a bitch. His assailant is still mostly hidden behind him because, after all, he's pretty much the same size I am, if maybe a tiny bit heavier. He, of course, can do whatever the hell he wants and not blow his cover because his secret identity is not Easygoing Ordinary Guy, it's Antisocial Japanese Guy. So people pretty much expect him to be able to do freaky weird martial arts stuff -- stereotypical, yes, but it works to his advantage, and mine, at this particular moment.

With a not-so-little shove, Heero sends the ape stumbling off towards the hall, an unsubtle hint that, o miracle of miracles, the freak actually takes. And then I'm all alone with Heero, sitting on the floor while he stands over me, managing to look cool despite the fact that his hideous shoes do NOT go with the school uniform. He always has known how to make an entrance.

I make it about halfway back to my feet before he gets me pinned against the wall, holding me up by a firm grip on my throat. I have to wonder for just a second if he's finally going to kill me, after all.

He still hasn't said a damn word, and apparently he's not going to because the next thing I know, he's kissing me. I'm totally off-balance in more ways than one, holding onto him for dear life as his knee slips between my legs. I can feel his other hand gripping my hair, tangling it under his questing fingers, and I don't even care. He wasn't this good a kisser before, not even close. He's been PRACTICING, and as soon as I manage to pick up the scattered pieces of my wits, I'm gonna want to know who he's been practicing on. Right now, though, all I want is for him to never, never stop kissing me like this.

But it does have to end eventually, and when it does he helps me back to my feet, steadying me with an arm around my waist. Now, standing face to face with Heero, I can see the uncertainty still lurking in his eyes, the little boy who's so very afraid of failing, at anything, ever. I think maybe he didn't mean to pounce on me like that. And then it finally occurs to me that I need to say something. I set him the challenge, and it needs to be me who lets him know he's passed. Unfortunately, bits and pieces of my mind are still scattered all over the floor and words just don't seem to want to come. So I kiss him, instead.

Somehow, in the heartbeats between one blink and the next, we've gone from kissing to rolling around on the floor, already half-naked. Did I pop the buttons off his shirt like that? Or was it him? And just what is it with us and having sex in semi-public places, anyway?

This time goes much, much better than the last. He doesn't seem to have been practicing THIS, but now he's more willing to let me guide him and, okay, so it's still far from the best sex I've ever had, but seems to me like we've got time enough for me to show him how to slow down, teach him where I like to be touched and find out the same about him. We both may die before we reach 16, sure, but we've still got tonight and, if we're lucky, if life throws us this one little gift in exchange for everything we go through, we'll have a lot of other nights before then, too.

The sun is still shining in through the window, warming the cheap tile floor just enough to make post-coital snuggling a possibility this time. At first, Heero doesn't seem to have any idea what to do, but eventually he figures it out and wraps his arms around me. We'll have to get up and leave soon or we really will get caught, but for just a little while I'm happy to lie in this nice sunny spot with Heero.

Yeah, I thought I had it all figured out. I'd run, and he'd chase me, and in the end we'd date casually and play some friendly bedroom games. I didn't plan for the way his expression softens when he looks at me, and I certainly didn't plan for the way his tentative little smiles make my heart thump a little harder. I wasn't expecting the way my chest tightens when I think of losing him to this war too soon -- at all -- and I would never have believed it possible that he'd stroke my hair so gently. He's caught me a lot more thoroughly than I ever imagined he would, except I don't feel caught, or trapped, or pinned down -- I just feel happy. Not the temporary, afterglow kind of happy, just truly, genuinely happy, deep down.

Part of me knows that it can't last forever, that the war has to tear us apart eventually, but I learned a long time ago how to live in the moment. And for this one, golden moment I feel like, even though Heero beat me at my own game, we both won more than I ever hoped for.

Good enough for me.