It was being naked that bothered him, he decided as he soaped up in the long line of other men doing the same, the loud echoing noises that covered up more dangerous ones, and the feeling that was more than naked; not having his gun. Heero had worn one, as long as he could remember. Having it on his person was akin to breathing.

He tried not to tense, did his best not to flinch and reach for the gun that wasn't there, when people made sudden moves his way or made particularly loud noises. He also managed to avoid the casual groups engaging in 'guy talk', to cover up the uncomfortable fact that they were all showering together. It made his nervousness more intense, built on that feeling that he wasn't paying attention to what his mind deemed a dangerous situation.

The soldier in him didn't notice right away, but, slowly but surely, Heero had the distinct feeling that he was being watched. He couldn't say why he felt that way in such a large group of men, or why it should matter when so many eyes were bound to look at him, even by chance, but some deep sense was suddenly alert and 'on guard'.

Finish, a part of him ordered, while another, the part that was trying hard to let some of that soldier go, was telling him that he was being less than reasonable. Still, the feeling grew, that someone was watching him with... intent.

Heero washed his hair, turned to rinse, and let his eyes scan the showers from under his wet bangs. There were so many naked bodies, so many moving and making the water spray, that it was impossible to pick out anyone acting out of the ordinary.

The inner soldier changed tactics. It wouldn't do to have an enemy that was unknown to him. It was better to confront and, possibly, eliminate the supposed threat. He waited, washing his body more than once, sliding broad hands over firm muscle as he turned this way and that as if to rinse, trying to catch his observer in the act.

The men left, dressing, laughing and talking, and then the locker room was silent except for the spray of Heero's shower, and someone else's. He turned and saw Duo, standing with his hair wet and plastered to his body, soap in both hands and clutched to his breast as if he had forgotten what it was for. His eyes were wide as he realized that he had all of Heero's attention.

Duo suddenly flicked off his water, let the soap drop, and scrambled for a towel. He ran for his clothes, sliding on the floor, water flying everywhere. Heero caught him by an errant trail of hair and brought him up short.

"Eh, hi Heero! What's up?" Duo's words tumbled out as he tried to keep up his towel and free his hair at the same time. "I was just getting out of here..."

"Why were you watching me?" Heero wanted to know, confused.

"Uh... well... uhm... ," Duo was left wide eyed again and he stopped trying to free himself. "Are you going to... uhm... kill me?"

Heero tried to puzzle it out, his eyes looking down and taking in the now soaked towel hanging off of Duo's lean hips. it barely covered anything. The one, clutching hand, wasn't winning against gravity.

"Now... Now you're staring," Duo dared to point out.

"I am... Is this... That's why you were watching me?" Heero wanted to know.

Duo blushed red. "Who wouldn't? You're... really... handsome." He flinched as if expecting a punch.

Heero blinked, stunned, and then he replied. "So are you. I didn't know you were..."

"You are too?" Duo asked in shock, not needing Heero to finish.

Heero nodded. He let go of Duo's hair and took a hold of both ends of Duo's towel. He used it to pull Duo close to him. "Let's dry off. We should talk about this."

"Yeah... talk," Duo said as he saw Heero's obvious excitement. "And maybe shower again, real soon?"