Pairings: 1=2; mentioned 3=4 and 5+S(+5?)
Stuff: sap, fluff and feel-good -- again! This is my dull attempt at humour.
Disclaimer: Trowa belongs to my friend, Katie, and we rent him out to Quatre sometimes, but other than that, GW and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency.
Notes: Inspired by the GW Bakery's Baked Goods Challenge and for the New Beginnings theme of the 1=2 Fans LJ Community. For the 2006 Moments of Rapture contest.

A Cake By Any Other Name....
by Link Worshiper

-- Queen

Quatre's eyes lit up as he slid the fork out of his mouth, savouring the delicious taste dancing across his tongue. "Wow, Duo! This is really good!" he gushed, immediately digging the pronged utensil into the moist slice of rum cake sitting in front of him. "Y'shoul' bake mo'ften," he said around another mouthful.

Duo sat on the other side of the table in Quatre's kitchen, self-consciously running his fingers through his hair. "You really think so, Q?" he asked, not sure if Quatre was just being nice. "It was just something I whipped of you and Tro on your anniversary. I don't really do this kinda shit often."

"Well, you should," Quatre insisted, the timbre of his voice dropping slightly to emphasize his seriousness on the matter. "I think you really have a knack for it -- always did, really."

"I agree with Quatre," Wufei piped up from the counter, where he was in the process of pouring an ample portion of rum over his second slice of cake. "I still remember the time you insisted you should make us all cookies to take as rations so we'd actually have something we'd actually want to eat when we were -- to quote you directly -- 'dragging our asses through the middle of God knows fucking where with nothing to eat but miles and miles of sand and tumbleweeds.'"

"If I remember right, distinctly recall you trying to filch mine after you'd eaten yours," Trowa said calmly from his spot at the table between Duo and Quatre. He lifted another forkful of cake to his mouth and chewed thoughtfully, his lips tweaked with a very subtle, almost unnoticeable smirk.

Assuming Trowa was trying to put words in his mouth, Wufei rounded on him, his eyebrow twitching a little. "Did I say I didn't like them, Barton? I don't think so!"

Trowa just chuckled to himself. Sometimes it seemed like he was keeping score for a game that only he knew the rules to.

"Aw, I dunno, guys," Duo said self-consciously, rocking his chair onto its back two legs. "I wouldn't go so far as saying that I got some kinda special skill with cakes or anything. I just like to fuck around in the kitchen for fun once in a while -- like if there's a special occasion or something."

"What's this about 'fucking around in the kitchen'?" spoke a fifth voice. "The last thing I want is to come in here and find something on fire."

Four heads twisted towards the door, where Heero had made a rather stealthy appearance. He was leaning against the frame, his eyes fixated on Duo as if he expected the longhaired American to make some sort of remark. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the background as the seconds passed. Trowa sneezed.

Quatre, who seemed oblivious to the odd silence that had arisen out of nowhere, was quick to break the mood with his two cents. "Heero," he said, waving his fork in the Japanese man's direction, "you have got to try the rum cake Duo whipped up for Trowa and me. You'll never believe how amazing it is!"

Heero's dark blue eyes flicked from Duo's and over towards the cake, which was sitting innocuously on the countertop to the left of Duo's head, missing the way Duo let out a huge breath of air when he did so. Then Heero's eyes darted over towards Quatre, who was sitting with one eyebrow arched expectantly. Heero said with a shrug, "It doesn't surprise me that Duo's a good baker. I would expect nothing less of anyone who's talented enough at chemistry to put together an explosive as well as he does."

No one noticed the dark pink flush that had overtaken Duo's cheeks at Heero's comment, even when he sunk lower in his chair and hunched his shoulders a bit in an effort to make himself less conspicuous. He personally didn't think much of the cake, but some self-flagellant part of him kind of wanted to know what Heero thought anyway. Unlike with Quatre, Duo never had to wonder if Heero was just saying something to be nice. He justified his want for Heero to try the cake by telling himself that he was out for the honest opinion of the person he respected the most.

Heero glanced back at the cake, though he made no move to go and get a piece for himself. Instead, his eyes traced the length of the counter, noting the systematically organized row of ingredients, the batter-smudged bowl in the sink and the opened cookbook sitting by the stove. "Well," he said with a nod of approval, "I'm glad you've found a way to channel your energy, Duo."

The colour on Duo's cheeks intensified and he sunk down even further -- so low, in fact, that his bottom was almost completely off the seat and his shoulder blades were pinned uncomfortably against the back of the chair. All he could see over the tabletop was the crown of Quatre's blond head, which was bobbing up and down as he went on trying to convince Heero that trying Duo's cake was necessary to his existence.

Duo felt the urge to just plop down on the floor.

"I'm not even kidding, Heero!" Quatre said, offering his plate in Heero's direction. "You haven't lived until you've tried this!"

"I'm very particular about sweets," Heero told him candidly, not budging from his position against the doorframe. He crossed his arms as if to emphasize his finality on the matter.

Meanwhile, from his spot by the counter, Wufei was the first to notice Duo's liquid-like position. He was sorely tempted to roll his eyes and say something sarcastic, but he instead settled for simply asking, "Duo, what on earth are you doing down there?"

Not realizing that anyone had taken notice of him, Duo startled, and the chair flew out from underneath him, toppling over. He hit his tailbone on the hard kitchen floor and he yelped in pain: "God fucking dammit!" Then he realized that the other four were all staring at him blankly. A nervous chuckle rode an embarrassed smile as he popped to his feet, dusting at some nonexistent lint on his sleeve. "Nothing to see here," he said. "Just trying to find something I dropped, that's all." He silently amended that he'd been looking for his heart when it plummeted to his feet at Heero's earlier compliment and then immediately wrote off his guilt about stretching the truth.

By this point, Quatre had gotten to his feet and was now standing next to Heero, just short of spoon-feeding Heero a bite of the cake himself. Heero was doing a pretty good job of resisting the combination of delicious food and Quatre's persuasive skills, but it was clear he was starting to break a little.

"Come on, Heero," Quatre was saying, trying to goad Heero into at least having one bite. "It's not like it's poison or something. Why don't you want any? I've seen you eat Duo's cooking before. Sweet things, too, at that."

Heero's eyes quickly rolled away from Quatre and the cake as a quick blush flashed across his cheeks. He gently put a hand on Quatre's chest and pushed him out of his personal space, his eyes still focused on something near the ceiling. "It's not that. Just...." He trailed off, furrowing his eyebrow like he wasn't sure what to say.

"Just what?" Quatre prodded, though his expression had become a bit more serious. "Duo's cooking? Or the sweets?"

"Both!" Heero exclaimed almost immediately before tensing and then biting down on his bottom lip. He was very aware that all of the pilots were staring at him like he was some kind of lunatic and it unnerved him, especially now that he was backed up into a corner. "Sweet things -- I... well...." He rubbed the back of his head, toying with the short waves of hair at the nape of his neck. He wasn't quite sure if this was something he wanted to go admitting to people, even if they were his closest friends. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he conceded defeat and admitted, "It's not that I don't like sweets. It's more like I --" He bit his lip again, hoping to high heaven that they wouldn't think less of him, while thanking everything holy that Relena wasn't there. "-- I like them too much."

Dead silence reigned in the small kitchen as the all stared at Heero. Quatre dropped his fork, and it landed with a clatter on the tile by his feet, while Duo and Wufei were both doing their best to school rather unattractive expressions of disbelief. Trowa got that look on his face again like he was having a particularly entertaining personal thought and went to take another bite of his cake.

Since he was standing closest to Heero and was also the one to instigate the admission, Quatre felt it was his place to say something first. "You act like it's something to be ashamed of," he said, stooping to pick up his fork. "Just about everyone loves sweets too much. It's just the way it is."

"No, no, you don't understand," Heero said, his words coming out unnaturally fast, making it clear he was beyond nervous. "I like them to a point of addiction. To a point where I could eat that entire cake myself if you let me," he said, pointing over to the counter where the rest of the pastry sat. "Better nothing than risking it."

"So you're the one who polished off my secret Twinkie stash?" Wufei suddenly raged from the other side of the room, pointing an accusing finger at Heero. The other four pilots all redirected their attention.

"No, man, that was me," Duo interjected, not about to let Heero steal credit for one his personal favourite hauls. "Gotta keep the old skills sharp, you know?" He held up a hand in Wufei's direction and waggled his fingers.

"You had a Twinkie stash, Wufei?" Quatre asked incredulously, though he looked like he was working hard to keep from bursting out into shameless laughter. Apparently even some things could be too much for Quatre's scope of reality.

"It's good quick-fix energy. Leave me alone," Wufei defended himself, crossing his arms and turning away. "At least I can admit liking sugar without making excuses for myself," he added, sending a pointed glare at Heero. The whole thing felt like a food fight sans the actual flinging of edibles.

"I'm not making excuses," Heero returned flatly, clearly not pleased by the way he was being treated. "I'm just saying that -- knowing that about myself -- I'll only make allowances for my absolute favourites, that's all. Nothing wrong with that, is there?"

Quatre blinked owlishly at his Japanese friend for almost a full minute before responding. "No, Heero," he eventually said. "Nothing wrong at all."

"Exactly," Heero agreed with a curt nod. His posture loosened, feeling more comfortable now that his secret was out in the open and everyone seemed to have accepted and moved on from it.

All except for one, that is.

Duo had righted his chair and reassumed his spot on it, sitting on the edge and leaning contemplatively on his elbows. He was staring straight ahead, completely still, and he looked like he'd fallen into some sort of trance, though anyone who knew him well would have known he was just lost amid various mental wanderings. 'Heero likes my baking, huh?' he thought, mulling over this new piece of information. So Heero hadn't actually come out and said those very words, but it was blatantly scrawled between the lines. 'We can work with this.'

A hand passed across Duo's line of sight, startling him out of his daze. He jumped, almost falling out of the chair again and sent a dirty look in Trowa's direction for nearly scaring the crap out of him. He'd been pleased with where his thoughts had been leading him and he didn't appreciate having them all dashed to pieces before he was ready. It didn't help that Trowa was wearing that damn smirk of his again -- and God knew what that meant, Duo thought sarcastically.

"Something to share with the class, Mr. Maxwell?" Trowa asked around a small chuckle. The wry expression Quatre had pasted on his face certainly wasn't much more helpful.

"Nevermind," Duo grumbled, slouching down again. He knew Trowa most likely had an exact idea what he'd been thinking about. Not for the first time, he regretted ever coming clean about Heero when his green-eyed friend had called him on it.

Heero, who was blissfully ignorant of Duo's internal monologues and feelings, did notice that something seemed to be distressing the longhaired American. Taking a few concerned steps towards the table, he asked tentatively, "Duo, are you okay?" After knowing Duo as long as he had, Heero had since realized that even Duo could act strangely if there was something weighing his mind. "Is there something that's been bothering you?"

Duo turned, one index finger poised and his mouth open, ready to speak, but Trowa beat him to it. "He was just thinking about what you just told us," he said, only appearing to be casual, though Duo knew better. "Trying to figure out just what is that favourite sweet that'll make you go weak at the knees."

The deadly glare Duo sent in Trowa's direction made even Heero's most intimidating expressions seem as innocent as a kitten's face. Just because Trowa had an uncanny talent for guessing what was passing through Duo's skull -- especially when Heero happened to be concerned -- didn't mean that it gave him the right to go broadcasting it to everyone within a ten mile radius. Despite his standard mode of operation, risks weren't something Duo was willing to take when it came to Heero; it was a delicate situation with potential repercussions Duo wasn't sure he could easily shake should they blow up in his face -- as things had a habit of doing around him.

If Heero was surprised by Trowa's remark, he did a good job of pretending like he wasn't. "Oh," he said with a nod of understanding. His ever-darting eyes made a casual sweep of the room, taking in the way his friends were staring at him. "Well, don't expect me to tell anybody any time soon," he went on as if he meant to clarify himself. "I don't need the temptation; life is complicated enough as it is."

Having said that, he turned on his heel and made a hasty retreat from the tiny kitchen, leaving the other four to sit back and wonder if that had really just happened. Quatre and Trowa were exchanging worried glances, while Wufei was busy jabbing his cake with a fork. Duo, on the other hand, couldn't help but stare longingly at the spot where Heero had just been standing, trying hard to decide if Heero was as simple as all that, or if there was another reason the Japanese aviator had suddenly been so full of excuses. Duo had never had a reason to doubt why Heero did the things he did ever before, but now, Duo couldn't help but wonder if this had more to do with baked goods or with him. In either case, he was determined as all hell to find out.

After the rum cake incident in Quatre's kitchen, Duo suddenly became exceedingly reclusive for the next few days. Though Heero didn't seem to think it was all that odd, the other three couldn't help but be a little anxious about it, as they all knew how fixative Duo's personality could be: when the longhaired American got set on something, not hell or high water could slow him down.

But when Duo turned down an invitation to watch the opening game of the ESUN ice hockey championships with them, Quatre thought it was time for an intervention. Wufei voted that Trowa should be the one to do something about it, and Trowa voted that it should be Wufei, winning only because Quatre backed him up. Heero kindly asked if they would please keep it down; he was trying to listen for the game's current score.

Which was how Wufei found himself standing in front of Duo's apartment door, grumbling to himself about how he hoped the team Quatre supported failed miserably as he raised his fist to knock. There was an acknowledging shout from within, followed by a loud thump and then an exclamation of "Motherfucker!" before the door finally swung open to reveal a very slovenly-looking Duo Maxwell. A rather pleasant smell wafted from inside the apartment; it made Wufei feel warm.

"Duo?" Wufei wasn't quite sure what to say: Duo stood before him in the doorway, a cow-print apron that was smudged with flour and a questionable looking brown spot tied over his usual black attire; a pair of fish-shaped oven mitts adorned each of his hands. There seemed to be icing caked into some of his longer bangs, and a rainbow of sprinkles was crushed into one pant leg.

"Wufei," Duo returned with a nod of his head. It wasn't clear if the American was bothered or indifferent to Wufei's appearance. "What brings you here?"

"Just coming around to make sure you're not dead," Wufei shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest as he swallowed a particularly heavy sigh. "You've been missing in action for the past week or so, and Quatre thought --"

"Oh Christ, I should have known," Duo practically moaned, rolling his eyes. He opened the door wider and stepped back to allow Wufei some space to pass him. "What's he think? I'm locked in my bathroom, cutting up a storm and painting the tile red?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that," Wufei said absently as he took a casual glance around Duo's small apartment flat. He'd come to visit many times before, but things definitely seemed different this time. Duo had never been the most organized of people, but there was something out of the ordinary about the chaotic jumble today. The coffee table in the common area was layered with at least two dozen cookbooks, all of them open to pages displaying recipes for various baked goods; on top of those laid an open photo album and what appeared to be a journal; a filing box that seemed to be filled with what looked suspiciously like old mission reports sat on the floor nearby.

Duo had since walked back into the apartment's tiny kitchenette. "Well, don't just stand there," he shouted from his base of operations. "Since you're here, I might as well put your presence to good use."

Part of Wufei knew this was probably a dangerous thing, but another, more curious part of him wanted to know what the hell Duo had been up to for the past few days. He walked into the kitchen, casually noticing a list of desserts that had been scrawled on the marker board hanging next to the phone. Then his jaw dropped; "Duo, what the hell is going on?" he demanded to know.

Duo turned around from the oven, from where he'd just pulled a piping hot chocolate fudge cake. "Exactly what it looks like, man," he said a bit icily. "I'm baking."

"I can clearly see that," Wufei answered dryly. "But why -- this?" He gestured robotically to the space by the stove, which was almost completely covered by a small army of cooling cakes and pastries. Three bowls filled with various homemade icings sat beside them, waiting to be used.

"I'm still in the preliminary trial-and-error stage," Duo replied, sounding frighteningly like he did back in the war days when planning out a mission as he placed the chocolate confection on the counter and pulled off his oven mitts. "Now," he pointed at Wufei and then snapped his fingers at the cake collection, "the apple crumble and the pineapple upside-down cake should be almost cool; get a fork and start tasting."

"But Duo, I still don't understand why --"

"No one asked you to," Duo snapped, producing a fork out of nowhere and slapping it into Wufei's hand. "Just do it!"

Wufei didn't appreciate Duo's tone. "You're not my boss," he said crisply, defiantly pushing the fork back in Duo's direction.

Duo raised his eyebrows, his face a bland expression of apathy. "You want Sally to find out about your secret stash come work next week?" he threatened, his voice flat and somewhat menacing. "Don't put it past me, Chang." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "Some of those missing Twinkies might just mysteriously turn up."

A look of grudging defeat crossed Wufei's features, knowing that Sally was the only person who was possibly more ruthless than Duo when it came to poking fun. He told himself he just didn't need to extra stress, though there was a little bit of him buried deep inside that was more worried about Sally's actual opinion of him. With a sigh, he resigned himself to Duo's request and stepped over towards the spread of desserts. Carefully poking the corner of the pineapple upside-down cake, he cut off a small bite with the edge of his fork. "So what's this project for?" The fork lingered in front of his lips as he paused, a thought coming to mind: "This wouldn't have anything to do with Heero, would it?"

Duo froze, a stick of butter in one hand and a whisk in the other. "Possibly," he said slowly, not daring to look Wufei in the eye. "So what if it does?"

"I knew it," Wufei said flatly as he finally put the sample of cake into his mouth. The taste was magnificent -- even better than the rum cake! -- but Wufei wasn't sure if he really ought to encourage this behavior. Unfortunately, it wasn't so easy for Wufei to just smooth over his reaction to the dessert with the way Duo was staring at him expectantly.

"Well?" Duo pressed urgently. He was suddenly a lot closer than Wufei remembered him being, an almost desperate puppy-dog expression lighting his eyes.

"Don't hover!" Wufei hissed, batting Duo away with one hand. He turned and schooled himself and then sighed, "Yes, Duo, it's good. Amazing, actually."

"Really!?" Duo sounded a bit too eager. "Because that's one I never tried to make before, but I remember Relena having one at some function or another, and I distinctly remember Heero --" He stopped abruptly, realizing what he was in the middle of saying. He swallowed and chuckled nervously, backing off and hastily retreating to the other side of the small kitchenette. He drummed his fingers loudly on the countertop. "I mean, it's just that if Heero liked it, that means it's sure to be...." He glanced over in Wufei's direction and trailed off, realizing it was futile: Wufei wasn't buying it.

"Don't even bother," Wufei said with a roll of his eyes, surreptitiously guiding his fork towards one of the other cakes. "I'm not an idiot, Maxwell --"

"Coulda fooled me!"

Wufei glared and continued on as if Duo hadn't interrupted. "Anyone can see that Heero's more than just another friend to you. The way you treat him -- hell, even just the way you look at him -- says more than anything that ever came out of that godforsaken mouth of yours."

The frenetic energy seemed to have faded out of Duo's system. He stood by the stove, one hand resting lightly on its chrome edge as he stared down at his shoes. "It's that obvious, huh?" he said softly. His bangs were falling over his eyes, obscuring the somber expression that was currently wetting them.

"Maybe not to him," Wufei said, attempting to sound a little more diplomatic. Duo perked up a bit.

"Oh." His shoulders slouched again.

Wufei let out another heavy sigh and put the fork down. "Duo, what are you trying to do? If you want him, tell him; I'm sure Heero's not the sort who'd just sever all ties with you because of something like that."

Duo flung the whisk into the sink, where it landed with a noisy clatter. "You make it sound so goddamn easy!" he shouted, his face twisted into one of utter despair. "You don't just waltz up to someone -- up to Heero goddamn Yuy -- and say, 'Well, gee whiz, man, I think I've had it bad for you since we were kids and I'd die to kiss you.' You just don't do that shit!"

Wufei crossed his arms and leaned against the counter behind him. "I seriously doubt Heero would condemn you for being honest about how you feel," he said reasonably. "You, of all people, should know the sorts of philosophies he keeps."

A sneer twisted Duo's lips. "I don't see you telling Dr. Poe you want her to bear your children, Chang."

Wufei had the decency to blush, but he kept himself under control. "That is not the topic under discussion at the moment."

"Maybe it should be," Duo shot back. "I mean, while we're on the subject of admitting shit about our feelings to people and all."

"I don't know, Duo; maybe you should try admitting a few things to yourself first," Wufei countered sharply. "Otherwise, all this," he gestured to the cakes again, "isn't going to do anything but help us all gain a few extra pounds."

And on that note, Wufei walked out of Duo's kitchen and let himself out of the apartment, closing the door behind him with an edge of finality and leaving Duo by himself to sink to the floor and brood.

"Duo called me last night," Quatre said conversationally as he popped the top on his third bottle of beer. "He was in the strangest mood."

"Weirder than when I went to see him?" Wufei questioned as he took a sip from his own drink, his black eyes trained on the vid screen. The second game of the hockey championships had just started: the Canadians were taking on a team from L3, one of the best in the entire ESUN.

"I don't know," shrugged Quatre, mopping up the icy condensation on the outside of his bottle with his index finger. "He was really brief -- seemed like he was in the middle of something else. Distracted, even."

Trowa was sprawled out on the sofa next to Quatre. Languidly, he stretched and stifled a yawn as he added, "Didn't you say that he'd been asking about desserts you knew that...."

He trailed off, noticing the way Quatre was shooting him a significant stare. "Yes, he was," the blonde hissed under his breath, his aquamarine eyes sliding over towards Heero, who was poised on the edge of a spare kitchen chair with one hand clenched tightly around his bottle of beer, entranced by the speeding skaters on the vid screen. He was pulling for the Canadians to win so his precious L1 team would have an easier time towards the end of the championships.

"So what did you tell him?" Wufei asked, picking up on the silent exchange between Trowa and Quatre. "I certainly hope you didn't encourage him."

"Well," Quatre murmured thoughtfully, nibbling on the lip of his bottle, "maybe not encourage him per se...."

Wufei tossed his hand in exasperation. "Great. Just great," he moaned. "Duo's going to drive himself off the edge of a cliff at this rate."

"Say, didn't you invite him over tonight?" Trowa asked, looking around the lounge as if he'd only just noticed that the longhaired American wasn't among them.

"If you mean, 'Did I bother to call him?' then yes, I did," Wufei returned a bit snidely. "But he obviously had more important things on his plate than spending time with us."

"Your team just missed a shot on an open net," Heero interjected, smugly taking a victory swill of beer, a pleased smirk hidden behind the bottle as he did so. Clearly, he had his priorities in order.

"Are you kidding me?" Trowa suddenly shot to the edge of the couch, alert and staring at the screen in disbelief as the replay flickered across it. Duo's presence seemed to have slipped his attention like water through a sieve. "What the hell are they doing out there?"

The subject of Duo faded soon after that as the four friends refocused on the game. By the middle of the second period, Quatre was more than a little sloshed, Wufei was asleep on the giant armchair, and Trowa and Heero were busy rooting for opposite teams. No one was expecting to hear the sound of the doorbell suddenly buzz through the apartment, slicing through the comfortable evening.

"Whuzzat?" Quatre slurred, lethargically collapsing over the arm of the sofa and staring across the room to the door as if he could see who was on the other side. "Wu, you expectin' 'n'body else?"

Wufei snored.

"You're bein' real rude, Wu," Quatre said, glaring over his shoulder at Wufei's sleeping form, clearly not pleased with the response he'd gotten. Then he turned back towards the door, blinking owlishly at it as the visitor leaned on the bell again. "Won'er who's there?" He made like he was going to stand up and get it, but Trowa grabbed his wrist and jerked the blonde back down onto the sofa.

When the doorbell rang for the third time, and still, no one had made a move to answer it, Heero had had enough. "Nevermind. I'll get it," he said, a little annoyed that he was going to be missing game play for this. "This better be good," he was saying as he pulled the door open, hardly even bothering to look up at the person standing in the corridor.

"Oh, and it is," said a familiar cheerful voice.

Heero's head snapped up, and he found himself face-to-face with a very proud-looking Duo. He had one hand on his hip, the other one balancing an ambiguous white box made of thin cardboard and tied up with a bit of blue string. "I thought you were busy," Heero said, feeling very off-guard.

"I was," Duo said ambiguously

His eyes flicked down at the threshold, the only thing separating the tips of Duo's sandaled feet from Heero's sock-clad ones. "Mind if I come in?"

Heero glanced over his shoulder to where Wufei was still passed out on the armchair. He offered Duo a little half smile and shrugged. "I don't see anyone protesting."

"Great!" exclaimed Duo. He certainly seemed pleased with something as he stepped into the apartment. Heero sucked in a breath and pressed himself against the wall to accommodate Duo as he tried to get by. "Hey, short-stuff, quit hogging the space, will ya?" Duo laughed as they engaged in an awkward dance of attempted sidestepping.

"Heero!" Quatre shouted from the sofa. He was waving his finger excitedly at the vid screen. "Y'gots ta get over here! They're brawlin'!"

Heero and Duo had managed to wedge themselves almost chest-to-chest in the apartment's tiny vestibule when they both turned their heads towards Quatre, nearly knocking noses as they did so. Duo hugged his cardboard box closer to his chest, letting out an awkward laugh. "Quatre, are you drunk?" he asked lightheartedly, trying hard to ignore the way Heero's scent filled his nostrils with every breath he took.

"Nuh-uh!" Quatre shook his head vigorously, which made him suddenly feel dizzy and caused him to teeter against the back of the couch. Then his large, blue eyes narrowed a bit as he espied the box in Duo's arms; "Whuzzat?" he demanded to know.

"Oh, this?" Duo asked innocently, lifting the box a little. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Heero scrutinizing the box, and he couldn't help but let out a private whoop of joy. "Only Heero's favourite dessert," he said proudly, smirking in Heero's direction as he spoke.

Heero's eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise -- perhaps even panic. He swallowed nervously; "Is that so?"

"Sure as heck is," Duo said, exuding confidence. If Heero's reaction meant anything, he was sure he had this one in the bag. Shooting a triumphant grin in Heero's direction, he sauntered over towards the couch; "You wanna taste?"

"Oh man, give'r!" exclaimed Quatre, practically bounding off the sofa as Duo approached. "We ran outta snacks at forever ago or som'thin'." He covered his mouth and sniggered to himself, leaving everyone else to wonder what he found so darn funny.

Duo plopped down on the floor and cleared a place on the coffee table for his dessert box, all too aware of the fact that Heero had moved to stand directly behind him, his intense stare practically boring holes into the back of his skull. His hand shaking a little, Duo went about removing the string and un-taping the cardboard flaps on the sides of the box. Opening it up, he reached inside, removing a perfect chocolate torte, which he then placed on the table.

The significance of this simple action wasn't lost on anyone in the room, except for maybe Wufei, who was still snoring away on the armchair. Hockey game forgotten, the other four stared down at the dark chocolate confection. It was a flawless circle, its top drizzled with a spider web of delicate caramel threads. Large white chocolate shavings trimmed the edges and formed a flower-like shape at the torte's center. "It's got espresso mixed in with the chocolate," Duo was saying. "A heinous thing to make and bitch to get perfect -- remind me, for the record, to never do anything that requires separating eggs -- but I'm almost positive that no one in their right mind could resist something as freaking delicious as one of these puppies."

"Oooooh! I wanna piece!" Quatre was excitedly bouncing on the cushion he was sitting on. Quatre definitely was one of the most entertaining people when he was intoxicated; his youthful side came out to the full when he was.

"It does look very good, Duo," Trowa said thoughtfully, nodding appreciatively at it. "I'll go get forks and plates." He stood up and wandered over towards the kitchen.

Heero wandered around from behind Duo to kneel down on the floor next to him. His eyes were trained on the torte, but his arms were crossed and his mouth was creased in a very definite line of indifference. "I can tell you right now, Duo, that's not my favou--"

"It will be when you try some," Duo cut him off abruptly. He'd spent too much time researching and perfecting the recipe to even consider he might not have guessed right. After combing through every memory and account he had of his history with Heero, he'd made note of every sweet thing Heero had ever eaten to his knowledge; he'd even gone as far as calling Quatre and Relena to check his facts and ask their opinions, just in case there was something he'd missed. After weighing up all his data, he'd come to the conclusion that the chocolate torte they'd served as a dessert lunch special at Saint Gabriel's, surely one of the first good things to leave an impression on Heero, was the ex-aviator's favourite treat. Three days locked in his apartment and sixteen tortes later, Duo had his best creation yet. 'If this doesn't win Heero over,' he thought, 'then nothing will.'

Trowa returned minutes later with a stack of plates and a handful of forks and knives. Setting them down on the table, he handed the biggest knife to Duo and told him to do the honours.

Accepting the blade, Duo shot another quick glance in Heero's direction as he poised it over the torte, ready to make the first incision. Heero still looked pretty apprehensive, but Duo read it as being worried about having to succumb to the awesomeness that was his baking. "Here, Heero," he said, laying the first slice on one of the plates and sliding it towards his Japanese friend. "Go on and put that in your mouth -- enjoy."

Heero just stared down at the delicately layered chocolate. Then his eyes flicked up, their blue rims catching the flicker of the vid screen as he said, "This isn't my favourite dessert, Duo."

"What!?" Duo's jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me?"

Heero shook his head. "I already told you that."

An overwhelming case of the butterflies invaded Duo's stomach. "Just try the fucking thing, for God's sake!" he ordered, not able to mask his frustration. "One bite is all I'm asking!"

Heero stared blankly at Duo for at least thirty more seconds before even glancing at the torte again. There must have been something about the pleading, desperate expression in Duo's eyes that moved him, because he was soon picking up one of the forks and reluctantly cutting off the tiniest sliver from the small end of the slice. Duo's focus was trained on that little bit of chocolate as it rose to Heero's plush lips, fighting to stifle a groan as Heero's tongue tentatively darted out to test the tiny morsel on the end of the fork before slipping it into his mouth.

If there was such a place as heaven, Duo died and went there the second he saw Heero's eyes slip closed while chewing the torte. He wondered if that hazed, almost passionate expression was like the one that might overtake Heero's features if he was to be spread out naked beneath him, their limbs tangled and their bodies pressed against one another. Duo sunk his teeth into his bottom lip, trying hard to purge the thought almost as immediately as it had appeared; no sense in trying to imagine Heero like that: he'd only end up with one more unattainable fantasy about the Japanese man to disappoint himself with.

Duo slapped himself with reality again and quickly shook himself out of his daze. "Well? How is it?" he pressed, noting the way Heero was still sucking his lips into his mouth, licking the chocolate taste off of them. He'd already pushed his plate away as far as he could, but he kept shooting the unfinished piece of dessert surreptitious glances of longing. Duo wondered if that was the way he looked whenever he was watching Heero.

"Absolutelyjollyspiffin' great!" exclaimed Quatre from the couch, waving his fork in the air before digging back into the slice Trowa had cut for him.

Duo ignored him for the most part. "Heero," he said, his tone even.

Heero seemed to have realized he'd been caught. "Not bad. In fact, quite good," he admitted, turning his attention away from the torte and focusing on Duo. "Still not my favourite, though."

The world seemed to stop spinning on its axis as Duo stared at Heero, his jaw a little slack. He'd been so sure.... "Are you yankin' my chain, Yuy?" he demanded to know. "I know you're all into this weird 'favourites only' diet of yours, but if I find out you're just faking it so I won't be right, you're in for it." Duo sounded more insulted than anything, despite the fact Trowa and Quatre were singing praises for his torte-making skill.

"I wouldn't lie to you, Duo," Heero said flatly. "My favourite dessert isn't all that typical, actually," he went on thoughtfully, crossing his arms and glancing up at the ceiling for a moment. "I've only had it twice, come to think of it. A long time ago."

Duo, meanwhile, was trying to figure out why Heero was now staring at him so intently. 'He's challenging me now,' Duo decided to himself. 'I'm gonna get that dessert right if it's the last thing I ever do!' He met Heero's even expression with one of his own, his eyes silently declaring his acceptance of the mission laid out before him. He should have known it wouldn't be so easy, anyway; Heero was anything but a simple person to figure out.

The moment only lasted a few more brief seconds. Trowa suddenly leapt to his feet, both his arms flung excitedly in the air. "Go-o-oal!" he shouted happily, his feet just short of tapping out a victory dance.

Heero's attention shifted from Duo to the hockey game almost immediately, his lips twisted with abhorrence. It was almost like he welcomed the sudden change in pace, and Duo couldn't help but feel that plummeting sensation overtake his heart again. The torte sitting on the table in front of him became wobbly as his eyes became a bit damp. Maybe he was deluding himself after all.

"Duo, really, this is getting a little ridiculous," Trowa said, the edge of the counter in Duo's kitchen digging into his palms as he leaned back against it. His dark green eyes tracked his longhaired friend as he moved about, his movements so natural, it was clear he'd been through a lot of practice. "You've been at this guessing game of yours for weeks now -- baked nearly every dessert in existence -- and you still haven't got it right yet. Maybe it's time you just gave up."

Duo stopped abruptly, whirling around so quickly that his braid almost knocked a custard-filled bowl off the top of the stove when it came whipping behind him. "Fuck no, Tro-meister," he said defiantly. "I've come too far and worked to hard to just throw in the towel now. Heero's not gonna be keeping any secrets from me, I can promise you!"

Trowa shook his head, unsure of how he should react. "I'm just saying, Duo," he went on with a shrug, "you're making yourself crazy like this. You have to give up this mission -- abort it, if you will; sometimes that's for the best."

"You're not hearing me on this one, Tro," Duo said morosely as he turned back to the counter and resumed working on the ginger cake he was currently experimenting with. "I get closer and closer with every try. I know I'm almost there, man. I can practically feel it in the air every time I show up with something new. He gets real panicked whenever he sees me with a cake box -- it's in his eyes."

"Do you get some kind of morbid kick out of seeing him so skittish?" Trowa asked, still sounding as casual as someone commenting on the weather might. "Or maybe you're some sort of masochist."

"Neither, thanks," Duo snapped, somewhat offended that Trowa would think so little of him. "I'd never go out of my way to hurt anybody -- especially Heero."

Trowa's eyes flickered, a dark, almost blackish green washing across his glinting irises. "Then why?"

Duo paused, staring down at the array of ingredients and cookware spread out before him. "It's that look he gets on his face, you know?" he said softly, knowing that there was no need to try and fool Trowa. "Maybe I was wrong for thinking there was something there for me, but... it's kinda nice to see him get that way because of something I did -- even if it's only a cake." He hung his head, staring down at the patch of flour dotting the tip of his toe. "There could be a million people who feel the way I do," he murmured, "but it doesn't matter now: this thing for Heero isn't going anywhere."

Trowa was quiet at first, opting to just watch before he reacted. He knew how strongly Duo felt about Heero -- had known for a long time, even before Duo had admitted it. The corners of his lips dropped a little, taking in the way Duo's entire posture seemed to droop as he lethargically went about mixing the ingredients together in the large bowl he was holding. His mouth was stretched like he might start to cry at any second, and as his stirring arm began to slow, Trowa took his cue to walk over and pat Duo reassuringly on the back. "I know, Duo," he soothed, rubbing circular patterns around his shoulder blades. "I know."

A sniffle wracked Duo's nose, and he swallowed the mucus, fighting to keep himself from tearing up. "I don't get it, Tro. How can he make me so happy, but still leave me so messed up inside?" he wondered with a lethargic sigh, dropping the spoon and hugging the bowl tightly against his chest, ignoring the smear of batter that it was leaving on his shirt. "I've got to be the unhappiest man alive."

Trowa's frown flickered into a tiny smile. "It comes with the territory -- when you love someone that much, I mean," he said, trying to sound as optimistic as he could. "You wouldn't care so much if you didn't."

Duo was shaking his head, a little ashamed when he saw a pair of tears plop down into the batter. "You tell him that," he moaned, feeling lonely despite Trowa's presence. "I've tried everything -- various pies and cakes, crème brule, bread pudding, fruit tarts, éclairs, peach cobbler -- you name it; I've tried it! Nothing works! Every time, it's passable, but never good enough! Nothing's ever good enough for Heero Yuy!"

"Everything?" Trowa arched an eyebrow. He was leaning against the counter again. "What's that, then?" he asked, pointing at the bowl in Duo's arms.

"Oh, this?" Duo sounded morose. "This is a ginger cake -- or, at least, it will be." He set the bowl down on the countertop by Trowa and flopped against the counter opposite his green-eyed friend, staring at him from the other side of the kitchen, a hapless expression written all across his face.

"And what brought this one on?" Trowa wanted to know.

"A couple educated guesses that'll probably end up being for nothing," Duo answered flatly. He started trying to rub the batter stain off his shirt with his index finger, but only ended up working it deeper into the fabric. "He's said his favourite is something he's only had twice -- and both times, in my presence, apparently -- that it's got a unique, spicy sweet taste and a golden-brown colour to it. It melts in your mouth and smells like heaven; it's always served warm and full of love and it's the most delicious thing there is!" Duo was practically hyperventilating by this point, his eyes a little wild and his fingers curled like claws.

"And ginger cake is all of those?" Trowa asked, arching both eyebrows now. He knew he shouldn't be as amused as he was by Duo's misery, but the American's tenacity was just so endearing. Duo's undying loyalty to Heero was beyond heartwarming.

Duo merely shrugged. "I have no idea," he admitted. "I just know I've seen Heero eat it before. It seems to fit the bill."

"Even all those bits about love?" Now Trowa just sounded like he was teasing. At least it was lightening the mood a little.

"Trowa, all food is full of love if it's made right," Duo said seriously. "Food made with friends -- for friends -- that's what makes something truly sweet."

"What if it's made for someone you love?" Trowa wanted to know, a sly grin riding his lips.

Warmth spread across Duo's cheeks, and he toyed with the hem of his apron a little as he said, "Then it's the most delicious thing there is."

"Is Duo coming over tonight?" Heero asked, settling down on the floor in front of Trowa's wide-screen television, a bowl of tortilla chips in one hand and a beer in the other. The final game in the ice hockey championships was about to start, and Heero wasn't about to miss seeing Trowa's team get whooped by his favourite L1 squad.

"I think so," said Quatre as he reached down to snag a handful of chips from Heero's bowl. "Trowa talked to him about it, at any rate."

"Oh," Heero said, taking a long swill from his beer. He took his sweet time swallowing it, and then added, "He didn't... mention if he was... uh... bringing anything, did he?"

Trowa looked up from the cheese platter he was in the middle of arranging. "I don't know, Heero," he said, sounding almost a bit too innocent. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason," Heero answered with a casual shrug that denoted he really felt the opposite.

"Y'know," Quatre said as he thoughtfully munched away at his handful of tortillas. "I think you're just afraid he might actually get it right, aren't you -- that he might figure you out?"

Heero swallowed, his midnight blue eyes darting away to a far corner of the room. "Terrified," he whispered as he focused intently on the tall floor lamp standing there.

"Oh, for God's sake, Heero, it's a goddamn cake, not rat poison!" Wufei piped up as he walked towards the sofa with a bag of pretzels. "You've got the metabolism of a rabbit, anyway. If anything, you could use a few extra pounds."

"It's more than just that," Heero mumbled, his eyes wandering from the lamp to the collection of potted plants that sat on the nearby windowsill. The white blossoms of an orchid dotted the green foliage exploding over the tiny ledge. Nervously, he swallowed again, very aware of the three sets of eyes all staring intently at him. "I mean, you know how Duo is -- always teasing," he went on, feeling the need to explain himself to avoid assumptions. "He'll never let it go. He'll laugh at me!" Despairingly, he buried his face in his hands.

"Funny," Wufei started as he sat down on the couch beside Quatre, "because Duo thinks the same -- oomph!"

"What he means is," Quatre quickly amended, removing his elbow from Wufei's side, "Duo would never go out of his way to make you feel bad, Heero. He likes you too much. You're his best friend!"

Heero hummed softly to himself, still a bit distracted. "Maybe."

Trowa and Quatre exchanged significant stares. Wufei rolled his eyes and stared up at the ceiling; "Morons," he muttered under his breath, though to whom exactly he was referring was a mystery.

The game was barely underway when the phone started ringing in the kitchen. Trowa sighed, gave a longing glance at the television, and then stood up and wandered over to answer it. "Yeah?" he said into the receiver, distractedly trying to stretch the phone's cord as long as he could so he could keep an eye on the TV. Heero's team had just gotten a penalty; he made a note to gloat over it when he got back.

"Tro-meister?" It was Duo, unsurprisingly enough. "Yeah, can you let me up? Sorry I'm late and missed dinner and all that...." He seemed to be rambling more than usual, and Trowa found himself wondering in passing what really could be on Duo's mind.

"I know, I know, Duo. Your 'mission' and everything," Trowa was nodding, only partially listening to his friend as he fought to balance his attention between the phone and the game. "Look, I'll send one of the guys down -- suck it, Heero! That's another penalty for you! -- down to fetch you."

"Sweet," exclaimed Duo, suddenly sounding very chipper. "See you in a few." Then he abruptly ended the call, not even bothering to make some snide comment about how he hated the security in Trowa's building. Trowa hung up the phone and thought about it. A smile grew on his face as realization dawned upon him; the bet they'd made on the hockey game wouldn't be the only thing Heero was losing that night.

"Who was that?" Quatre asked as Trowa reassumed his spot on the couch.

"Just Duo. He's stuck in the lobby," he answered. Glancing up, he noticed Heero sitting in front of the television and glaring at it with something akin to animosity, one hand blindly groping for the chip bowl and the other wrapped unnaturally tight around his bottle of beer. "Maybe you should go down and get him, Heero," he said, hoping Heero wouldn't break the bottle with a sudden clench of his fist. "Get your mind off the game a little -- because you clearly aren't liking the way it's turning out."

Heero whipped his intense stare over his shoulder, glowering at Trowa. "You think?"

"No, I know," Trowa responded smoothly. "Which is why I think you could do with a trip downstairs."

"Go on. Rub it in. I dare you," Heero growled almost dangerously. Still, he was getting to his feet, carefully setting his beer and the chip bowl on the coffee table as he prepared to follow through on Trowa's request. He grit his teeth and didn't let Trowa see his face as the green-eyed man shouted a merry, "Have fun!" on his way out the door.

Of course, that meant he also missed the wry grins Trowa and Quatre were shooting his back as he left.

Duo seemed surprised to turn and see Heero. He had been standing with his back to the elevators, watching the pedestrians on the street through the glass front doors of the building. "Isn't... the game on?" Duo wondered, furrowing one eyebrow. He knew that Heero was almost as hardcore on hockey as Trowa was, and with their two favourite teams going to head to head for the cup, it was pretty much a given what Heero's priorities would be -- or at least, that's what Duo thought.

"Yeah. Let's not talk about that," Heero said flatly, idly swinging his arms for lack of anything else to do with them. He kept trying to peer around Duo's body as discreetly as he could, hoping that Duo wasn't cradling a cake box that he just couldn't see from his position.

"Okay, Heero..." Duo said slowly as he turned around, blinking his large eyes curiously at Heero. "If you don't want to...."

As he did so, Heero couldn't help but suck in a large breath, letting it out quietly when he saw that the only thing Duo had in hand was a paper shopping bag. He was almost afraid to ask what was inside it, though. Even if it turned out to be something completely innocent -- something Duo didn't bake, at any rate -- Heero didn't want to offend Duo or display his own anxieties about the American's self-proclaimed mission. Knowing Duo, it would get him asking too many questions -- questions Heero wasn't even sure he could answer for himself just yet. So instead, he just offered a shrug and a half-smile, and used the key he'd borrowed from Trowa to call the elevator.

The ride up was mostly silent: Heero kept shooting surreptitious glances and Duo and his bag, and Duo kept watching Heero out of the corner of his eye, trying to decide if Heero's antsy behaviour was a good sign or not. Part of Duo wanted to say something about it, to assure Heero that he wasn't trying to be a jerk or anything like that, but most of him opted to just see where things went. Duo was well aware of the fact that his mouth was one of the main reasons he always seemed to be in trouble.

In fact, neither one said anything until they got back to Trowa's apartment. Heero started immediately for the television again, eager to find out if the game had turned in his team's favour while he was gone. He didn't quite get back to the sofa, though, because halfway there, he realized Duo wasn't behind him anymore. With dread, he stopped and turned around to see that Duo had deviated to the kitchen with his shopping bag. Heero's stomach clenched and dropped to his feet, and he swallowed nervously. "I'm done for," he whispered to himself as he, against his better judgment, found himself wandering to the kitchen after his longhaired friend. "Duo?" he called out softly.

"Yeah?" Duo barely looked back as Heero entered the kitchen. The lights over the stove cast the only illumination in the small room, painting Duo in a harsh, almost ghostly glow. He was in the process of rustling through the cupboards for plates and utensils.

"Aren't you gonna... uh..." -- Heero swallowed again -- "...watch the game with the rest of us?" This didn't bode well. Duo's baking was too much of a temptation; Duo in general was too much of a temptation!

"Eh, L2's not playing, so no rush," Duo replied absently as he returned to the kitchen table with a stack of plates in arm. He seemed carefree -- absolutely ignorant of Heero's apprehension.

"Yes, but I know you support L1 over L3," Heero said quickly, somehow hoping he could convince Duo to leave the kitchen and save himself a lot of potential hazard. "I need someone else to cheer with."

"Yeah, okay, keep your shirt on. I'll be there in a minute," said Duo, waving him off absently as he went hunting for a large knife. He brought it back to the table and then went digging into his shopping bag, removing a perfect loaf of ginger cake, which he then set down next to the plates. Two Tupperware containers came out next, and he held them up to Heero and asked, "Custard or lemon icing? Pick your poison."

Heero, for his part, quickly realized if hadn't been frozen to the place where he was currently standing, he'd have backed himself up against a wall. Duo was too close -- far too close -- to guessing his game, and it made millions of butterflies swirl around his stomach. He wasn't quite sure what he'd do if Duo figured him out: how he'd react; what he'd say. It just wasn't something he ever thought he'd have to deal with. And that was just him! Heero didn't even want to start thinking about how Duo would act if he got to the end of this whole ordeal successfully. Most likely, Heero figured he'd never hear the end of it, and though he knew Duo would never be vindictively mean, this was one of those things he thought was easier to deal with in secret.

"Well?" Duo sounded a little apprehensive himself.

It was then that Heero realized he'd been standing there, panicking internally for a good two minutes and thirty four seconds since Duo had asked his question about the icing. Deciding he wasn't going to make it easy, he just shrugged and shook his head.

"Real helpful," Duo said with a roll of his eyes, though there was still a content smile tweaking the corner of his mouth. "Fuck it; I'll just cut it in half and do both." With that, he set the lemon icing down on the table and wandered over to the stove with the custard to warm it up.

Silence befell them again, interrupted only by the clicking of the gas stove as Duo lighted the flame beneath the saucepan he'd pulled off the pot rack by the sink. A few moments passed like that, Heero lingering near the entrance of the kitchen and nervously watching Duo's back as he stirred the custard around in the pot. Heero kept twisting his hands around inside his pockets, and Duo started whistling, swaying back and forth as he waited for the custard to get warm; his long braid flicked across his back, its tail dancing across the tops of his thighs.

After a while, Heero decided he just couldn't handle it anymore. "Duo," he said, trying hard to swallow the uncertainty in his voice, "why are you doing this to me?"

Just then, Duo removed the saucepan from the burner and turned around, holding the silver pot in one hand and the wooden spoon he'd been using to stir in the other. "What do you mean?" he asked, licking the back of the custard-covered spoon.

"This," Heero said a bit stiffly, gesturing to the custard. Softly, he let out a breath and continued: "Do you have any idea what this does to me?"

Now Duo was confused. He cocked his head and blinked curiously at Heero. "I don't understand, Heero," he said, trying hard to work out what Heero was trying to say. "I thought you said that you loved baked sweets -- that I'm good at making them. I like seeing you happy."

"Duo...." Heero's tone was just short of pleading.

Fear suddenly consumed Duo. All this time he had been under the impression that he was doing a good thing. Hadn't Heero been just as much a part of the game as Duo had been? "Are you saying that sweets make you... unhappy, Heero?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer. He set the saucepan on top of one of the table's placemats and sat down in one of the wooden chairs, his eyes never wavering from Heero's.

The butterflies surged through Heero's belly again. "No," he whispered. "It's just that..." He trailed off, suddenly distracted by the splotch of custard glazing Duo's bottom lip. His throat felt dry, and it was making it hard for him to speak. Still grasping for the right words, Heero pulled out one of the other chairs around the table and sat down as well. He laid his hands atop his thighs in an effort to still them, but if his fingers kept clawing at the fabric of his jeans.

It didn't really matter; Duo was already talking again. "Heero, if you don't like my baking, you don't have to pretend like you do," he was saying, his voice a bit stringent. "I won't be offended if that's the case...." Duo was well aware he was just shooting the bull; he knew that the heaven-sent expression that graced Heero's features whenever he took that first bite of his desserts was anything but a ruse.

"Duo, you know that's not it at all!" Heero exploded, virtually coming apart at the seams with emotion. He dug his fingertips into his thighs in an effort to quell the outburst and tried to continue, but he found he was still unable to find the right words.

Duo's eyebrows tightened over his nose, and he suddenly mad a grab for the big knife next to the ginger cake. "Then what's the harm in a little sweetness? Is it really that bad?" he asked, oozing with frustration as he sloppily hacked off a corner of the loaf. He dropped the knife gracelessly and picked up the sliver of cake with his thumb and forefinger, shoving it into his mouth. "Do you really have that much trouble eating a goddamn dessert?" he wondered angrily as he chewed, though the moistness in his eyes was probably countering his annoyance.

Heero wasn't really paying attention, though. He was far more entranced by the gingery crumbs that were clinging to the custard that still dabbled Duo's lower lip. "No," he mumbled distractedly. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have to fight it so hard."

"You know," Duo retorted, already going for anther tiny piece of cake, "maybe a little temptation is a good thing once in a while." He didn't even bother with the knife this time, and instead just dug into the cake with his fingers and crammed it into his mouth with almost animalistic roughness. The custard smeared onto his chin and across the back of his hand. "Maybe you should allow yourself to take that fall now and then. Who knows -- you might just like where you land."

Heero watched Duo's ever-moving hands as they shamelessly groped for the cake in the dim light. His midnight blue eyes darted after Duo's fingers as he slid them between his lips with every morsel he tore from it. "It's too late," he whispered to himself. "I've already been sent tumbling."

Duo stopped, his body suddenly tense. Clenching another chunk of cake, his fingers were poised in front of his mouth, quivering. Heero had closed his eyes, and looked like he was trying to regulate his breathing -- or perhaps even like he was waiting for judgment, ready to accept his fate. But Duo was still caught on the words he thought he'd heard Heero say just then; "W-What?" he stammered.

Heero's eyes glittered beneath his thick eyelashes as he opened them again. "You send me spinning sideways," he said, his voice a little more confident this time. His eyes flicked up to meet Duo's, which were wide with shock. "A strange infatuation."

Duo was sure he was hearing wrong, simply just misunderstanding what Heero was saying. "You mean my baking, right?" he said, seeking clarification. His face was still smeared with custard and specks of ginger cake, but he couldn't be bothered with caring at the moment. The piece he was holding crumbled between his fingers, sprinkling onto his lap and across the table. "My baking makes you weak at the knees, just like Trowa said, right?" he asked again, this time sounding a bit desperate. "My cakes and pies and puddings --"

His words caught in his throat as Heero reached across the space between them to let his fingertips slide across his lips, custard sticking to them as they traced the shape of Duo's face. "I thought you'd never guess," he said softly, bringing his fingers back to his own mouth and kissing them lightly. "And while you didn't know, I was safe."

Duo felt his entire universe twist in on itself, his gaze trained upon Heero's custard-slicked fingers. "You mean, I was right?" he asked, wondering vaguely why his voice didn't seem to match up with the feelings coursing through his veins at the moment. "This is the one?"

"Almost." Heero's fingertips still lingered across his lips, his eyelids heavy and barely open. He looked almost as if he was tasting something far more luxurious than a mere ginger cake doused in custard.

"Heero...?" Duo wondered warily, afraid that Heero just might be pontificating without really realizing how he was coming off. "What are you saying? You... you do mean the cake, right?"

"Do you remember the first time we had this?" Heero asked, feeling much braver than he ever had before. He'd always found it funny that it was easier for him to stand in the face of death than to express how he felt. He supposed it just came with this inexplicable fear he had for regretting things: his worst nightmare was telling Duo the strange love he had for him and then being brushed off or laughed at. He cared for Duo too much to lose him because he didn't know how to conduct his feelings properly.

"Ginger cake?" Duo questioned slowly. "Yeah. Wasn't it at that teashop in Liverpool? The one on our way to Brussels after you busted me out of the OZ lunar base? We had ginger cake and shared a pot of vanilla tea."

Heero nodded. "And we stayed overnight in the owner's spare room, remember?"

"Yeah, and you made up that story about how I'd hurt myself doing some jackass stunt on a bicycle so he wouldn't go asking too many questions about why I was all beat up!" Duo added with a laugh, quickly forgetting the odd tension in the air as the memory came rushing back. "And we fought over who would take the floor and who would get that dinky little twin bed for the night."

"You were injured pretty badly, Duo. It only made sense that you took the bed," Heero commented flatly. His eyes seemed to flicker in the darkness, much like a cat's, whenever he'd glance up at Duo. The longhaired American opened his mouth to counter Heero's statement, but Heero wasn't finished yet. "You needed the rest more than I did, and I didn't fall asleep that night, anyway. I was..." -- Heero's glanced nervously to the side, unsure if he should proceed at all -- "...too worried about you."

Now Duo was the one who felt tense. "What are you trying to say?" he asked carefully. He was well aware he could be setting himself up for some major disappointment. "That ginger cake is your favourite sweet because it reminds you of me?"

"Very much," Heero admitted breathlessly. He scooted his chair a bit closer to Duo so that their knees were pressed against each other, reaching to clasp Duo's hands in his own. "It's spicily sweet and tastes like heaven," he whispered, focusing on the way their fingers twined around each other's hands. "And it's always served warm and full of love." His grip tightened a bit, almost as if he was afraid Duo was going to suddenly snatch his hand away.

"How do you know what I taste like?" Duo asked a bit indignantly. This had to be Heero's way of getting back at Duo for parading so many desserts in front of him for the past few weeks. It wasn't a very kind joke, Duo thought.

Heero's breath hitched, his face becoming a light rosy hue, though it was hard to make out in the dimness. He wasn't sure how to tell to Duo that he'd spent that night sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through the matted tail of Duo's braid as he watched him sleep, all the while wondering what had driven him to let Duo live that day. How could he explain figuring out, in that moment, that the only reason was that Duo had managed to become closer to him than anyone else he'd ever met in his life -- that without Duo, he'd go back to being the same, lonely orphan boy he once was. It was also then that Heero realized how hard it would be to ever tell Duo this, more than a little frightened by all the overwhelming possibilities it presented him with. So that night, with the taste of ginger and vanilla still on his tongue, he'd leaned down and laid a gentle kiss on Duo's sleeping lips, silently vowing to himself that he'd save his 'I love you' until the day he could say it without any regrets or fears.

Duo could see the way Heero was hesitating and wondered why his Japanese friend was suddenly so unsure of himself. "Heero?" he probed gently, clutching Heero's hands a bit tighter and twisting himself so he could look up into Heero's eyes. "Are you... crying?" This wasn't the sort of joke Duo was used to, that was for sure.

Automatically, one of Heero's hands zoomed to his face, quickly mopping up any tears that might have caught on his eyelashes. "Without you," he mumbled, digging the heel of his hand into one eye socket, "I'm nothing."

Suddenly overwhelmed as if someone had stolen his breath away, Duo stopped, only able to hear the dull thudding of his heart as it erratically pounded away in his chest. He had no idea what to say, afraid to believe what his ears were clearly picking up. It just had to be one of Heero's odd ways of phrasing himself, Duo decided. It couldn't mean what he thought it did -- what he wanted it to. That would just be foolish.

Heero finally lifted his chin, daring to meet Duo's startled eyes. "I was half convinced that I could waken and be satisfied enough to only dream you," he admitted, wishing to God that he knew how to express himself. "But I..." He shook his head, his long, shaggy bangs tossing back and forth across his sharp blue eyes. "Duo, you're just so real to me -- such a part of my life!"

And then, finding that there clearly were no words for him to truly convey how he felt, Heero resorted to the only way he knew how to operate when all else failed. Gripping Duo's hand and wrist tighter, he pulled him nearer as he leaned closer, tilting his head to the side and parting his lips slightly. Then, pausing only a few brief seconds, he pressed his mouth against Duo's, praying that the action would communicate more than anything he could ever say.

As his tongue swept across Duo's bottom lip, he tasted the custard and ginger cake that still glazed it. It was made all the more sweet mixed with Duo's own rich flavour. His nostrils were filled with an intoxicating scent -- a culmination of spice and that smell that always clung to Duo's skin and hung in the air long after he'd swept by.

Duo's finger crept up beneath his chin as their kiss deepened and remained there even after they parted. He could feel Heero's warm breath puffing over his face, a reminder of how close they were. Duo found it strange that though he'd never imagined he'd ever kiss Heero, it seemed like they'd always been this close. Maybe it was just a testament to how much their lives had become entangled since that first day they'd met on the docks. "Gee whiz," he breathed, still disbelieving of what had just happened. But then, there was the touch of Heero's skin against his fingers, the way their knees were pressed together and the feel of their clasped hands, all reminders of how very real this all was. "Guess there's hell to pay now, huh?"

"Right or wrong doesn't matter," Heero replied in just as hushed a tone. "All I know is how I feel -- that not a day goes by when I don't think of you! Even back when we were younger, when it seemed like the sky might fall any moment, I knew that being sure enough of you made me sure enough of me." He stopped, catching Duo's gaze, which caused his heart to flutter. He nibbled his lip a bit and then continued. "You made me confused, ruined my sleep -- made me aware of being alive," he declared, tugging Duo's hand to his chest and laying it above his quivering heart. "I don't care, though," he went on, still holding Duo's gaze. "You vary my days."

For the first time that night, a truly genuine Maxwell grin split Duo's wide lips. "Well, if that's the case, then I suppose I should blame you for making an extremely bitter jerk like me start coming through for someone other than himself," he said warmly, feeling Heero's pulse beat down the length of his arm. He took Heero's free hand in his and mirrored the position, clasping it over his own palpitating heart. "You know I'll always be there for you," he whispered, leaning across the gap between them. "After all, I'm just as frightened as you of being alive."

Heero paused for a moment, staring deep into Duo's inquisitive eyes. "Is that why, then?" he queried, cocking his head a bit.

"Why what?" Duo wondered, furrowing his eyebrow quixotically.

"The cakes -- the pies and puddings," Heero clarified, unsure of why his throat had suddenly parched up again. "Is that why you were so eager to make them for me? Because it was just your own way of saying all these things?"

A laugh wracked Duo's entire body as he sat back in his chair. He ran both his hands through his wispy bangs and through the hair pulled back across the top of his head. "And now you've gone and guessed my game," Duo admitted, hoping he didn't sound as sheepish as he felt. "You know me: running, hiding, but no lies."

"I remember," Heero was nodding. He found himself rising out of his chair, holding himself over Duo as he bent down and wrapped his arms around the longhaired American's neck. "It's how I know you," he whispered into his ear. "How I know I don't have to go on being afraid of loneliness."

Duo grinned, yanked Heero down onto his lap and holding him close. "Looks like we both win, huh?" He felt a surge of pleasure, more intimate than even kissing, when he felt Heero nod against his cheek.

"I thought you were getting me some comfort food. I'll need to be heavily sated on it for when Heero comes back," Trowa said morosely as Quatre sat back down on the sofa beside him. He was slouched low, his arms crossed moodily over his chest as he glared bitterly at the television. His team, which had been doing so well in the first half of the game, had slacked off in the last period and managed to forsake the championship to L1 in the final two minutes of the game. "Where the hell is he, anyway? I'd rather him get all his gloating out right away instead of having to put up with it tomorrow."

"Busy helping Duo in the kitchen," replied Quatre, a telling grin riding his features. "I honestly don't' think you have to worry. I have a feeling that the game is the last thing on Heero's mind at the moment."

"What could possibly be more important than hockey?" Trowa demanded to know, missing the sly, knowing way Quatre kept glancing at the door to the kitchen. "Can you think of anything, Wufei?"

Wufei snored.

"Mm," Quatre tapped the bottom of his chin thoughtfully, still looking extremely smug. "Think of it as a gourmet taste testing session of sorts," he said.

Trowa perked up slightly, finally giving his lover the benefit of eye contact. "Is it like a game?" he asked, sounding a little more interested.

"You might say that," Quatre replied, still grinning mischievously. "It's a game I think you've played and mastered yourself."

"Really?" Trowa sounded intrigued. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling, mentally running through every sport he'd ever played and excelled at, but kept coming up blank.

Quatre rolled his eyes and sighed, deciding that Trowa could use a hint. Tugging the sleeve of the white L3 jersey Trowa was wearing, he caught the green-eyed man's attention and beckoned him to lean closer so he could kiss him.

At first, Trowa's eyes became wide with surprise as his wandering thoughts tried to get back on track and figure out what Quatre was trying to say. It didn't take him long to make the connection, though. "Ooh," he hummed as the parted. "That game. The one with no rules." He paused, and then thought out loud, "You think I mastered that?"

Quatre laughed; "Yes, Trowa. As a matter of fact, I do."

Trowa was nodding to himself, apparently pleased with this report. "And Heero?" he asked.

A grin still fixed upon his lips, Quatre jerked his thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "He and Duo are in the process of making up the rules to their own version of it," he said. "Don't worry about them; they're both quick learners."

"Quicker than me?" Trowa wanted to know.

"Nah," Quatre brushed it off, leaning against Trowa and enjoying the way his body felt against his. "They still have a long way to go to even come close to you."

"Good," said Trowa, settling against the back of the couch and wrapping an arm around Quatre's shoulders. Suddenly, despite the disappointment of the game, life didn't seem so bad. He had a lover who meant the universe to him, and his two idiot best friends had finally stopped pussyfooting around long enough to be honest with each other.

'No,' Trowa thought, closing his eyes, 'life's actually pretty damn sweet.'