Heero sat watching Duo through narrowed eyes, mentally cataloguing his fellow Gundam pilot's vices.

He is noisy. He is loud. He has no courtesy, no respect.

Duo was sitting next to Quatre raving about something, waving his hands to make his point, while Quatre continued reading his book and nodding periodically. If he was taking in half of what Duo was saying, Heero would be surprised. It didn't stop Duo from talking, though.

He is intemperate, he often acts without thinking. He is everything I am not and nothing I wish to be.

Something Duo said caught Quatre's attention and he looked up, surprised. Duo shrugged, hands up and open as if to say, "Didn't I say so?"

If there are two poles more opposite than we, I cannot conceive it. I suppose that must be why, then.

Two faces turned towards him: blond Quatre looked across at him in bemused confusion and Duo -- well, Duo grinned, slid from the arm of Quatre's chair and sauntered across the room to him.

Look at how he walks. Is this how a warrior walks? No, not Duo, he parades himself, as unashamed as a wild animal. One day he will go too far with me, one day he will push me beyond my own boundaries. One day I will take what he offers with every breath he takes, with every movement of his body.

Duo perched himself on the sofa beside Heero, curling his legs beneath him. "Well, I told him. He doesn't believe me."

Heero turned the newspaper page carefully, turning it backwards in a neat fold. "Why?"

"Well, because you want me specifically to go on this mission with you. That's got to be a first. I mean Heero, asking for me on a mission. The sun may rise in the west!"

He looked up slowly, eyes running upwards over stomach and chest, slender arms, to shoulder and throat, to chin, mouth, nose and eyes. He held himself in place, restraining a traitorous urge to reach out, grab hold of the chestnut braid, and use it to pull Duo into his aching arms. He hated him...

"I use the best tool for the job. Now go away and let me read in peace."

Duo laughed, offered a mock salute and leapt from the couch, off to seek more amusing pastimes.

I hate him. I want him. God help me, I love him.

He hates me.

Duo contemplated the bane of his existence as Heero worked at the open engine hatch of his Gundam.

He is always so angry. At me. At the world. At everything. I can't get through that anger, he wears it like a coat of armour.

Perched on a rock at the edge of a canyon, his legs dangling out over a five hundred foot drop, Duo balanced on the edge of the world. He plucked up some strands of dried grass and sucked one, frowning as he juggled the puzzle that was Heero in his mind. High mountain winds gusted around him, tugging at stray strands of his hair, whipping them onto his cheeks, into his eyes. He barely noticed the tiny stings.

I'm not even sure I like him. He's stubborn and prickly and if he has a sense of humour he's damned good at hiding it. And I'm sure he hates me.

"Duo! Come here."

Swiveling on his butt, Duo turned and pushed himself up to his feet and away from the cliff's edge. "What's up?"

"I need you to hold this rotor shaft still so I can fit the replacement rotor."

"Ok."

That's all you're good for, Duo. Go here, hold that, do this. Like he said, another tool, like his wrench, or his gun. Only maybe he feels they're worth something. If he would just LOOK at me, really look, maybe he would see...

Duo slid next to Heero and reached in to take hold of the slippery metal pipe. Coated with lubricant, it was hard to grip and he wriggled as he sought a better hold.

"Hold it still, damn it, Duo!"

"I'm trying!"

He held on tight, concentrating on the work, holding it steady as Heero worked pressed against him in the confined space of the engine cowling. Even above the smell of the engine and its fluids and chemicals, he could smell Heero. He could smell his musky hot perspiration, and saw a trickle of it run down from Heero's forehead, across his cheek, leaving a trail on the slightly dirty skin. Heero's hands were slick, too, with the silvery lubricant and Duo held very still as Heero's hip bumped against his as he worked.

So he hates me. Dislikes me, is irritated by me, can't find a good thing to say. Then why is it that all I want is to hold him, be held by him, feel his mouth on my skin, his hands on me anywhere, anywhere...

His hands quivered at the thought of it and Heero sighed, exasperated.

"If you move again, I may kill you."

He sighed and held still in the quiet of the forest. There were only the moments, one after another, passing in silence as Heero stood so close, and seemed so far away.

And then he turned, very slowly, and looked at Duo. Really looked...

"No!"

I am insane. There is no other answer.

Duo was looking at him in frozen confusion, silent for once, holding still like a startled animal caught in a hunter's spotlight. His great jewel-bright eyes were wide and questioning.

I cannot do this. I cannot BE this. There is no place in my reality for something like this.

"Damn it Duo! Damn you!"

Duo flinched as if he'd been struck. "Heero? What --?"

Too close, I must not let him get so close to me. Must stay strong, for myself, for the mission. Stupid, irresponsible...

"Get away from me!"

He didn't think he'd ever used quite that tone of voice before, dripping with disgust. Duo didn't realise the disgust was for Heero himself, and it couldn't be taken back. Duo backed away, step by step, one hand up, surprised pain flashing across his face.

He doesn't understand. Neither do I. Perhaps I am going insane after all.

Duo wasn't watching where he was going and for a few moments neither was Heero. Then he realised, seeing the slender figure waver and stumble on edge of the precipice. He began to fall, arms waving for balance, face white with shock.

No.. no .. no

Heero would never understand how he did it, how he covered the distance between them so fast. Drawing strength from somewhere inside himself, Heero threw himself forward to save Duo, or to fall with him.

Outstretched fingers touched, entwined and held. Throwing himself backwards, Heero pulled himself and Duo back, away from the edge. They fell in the grass and lay on their backs, side by side, panting a little in shock and staring up at the sky.

After a time he felt movement and realised he was still holding Duo's hand. He turned his head, and saw Duo was watching him from mere inches away.

"Clumsy idiot. Next time," he said through dry, stiff lips, "I might let you fall."

"Would you?" Duo's eyes shone sapphire-bright.

Yes. No. God! He's not falling anymore -- I am --

Heero twisted onto his side and on top of Duo's sprawled form, where they lay in the grass close to the cliff's edge. Hands grabbed him and held on with sudden strength -- he forgot sometimes how strong Duo was. Heero leant forward, and stole the questions from Duo's mouth, sealing him to silence with a kiss.

Thank you. I'm dead, that's what it is.. I fell off the cliff and died and in this afterlife I get what I always wanted.

What he always wanted was laying on top of him and kissing him with serious intent. Part of his mind -- the part not gibbering with shock -- was thinking, yes, that's just how I expected Heero to kiss. Hard and soft at the same time, musky and sweet, dominating and yet sort of uncertain. A neat bundle of contradictions, was Heero.

Duo wrapped himself around Heero, hands and legs molding themselves around the other pilot's body as he settled himself. Heero muttered something, something in Japanese and it translated as excitement, the slight quiver of the hand holding his head, the breathy shiver against his mouth. Even as he responded to that demanding kiss, Duo knew something very important, from the hint of awkwardness, the hesitation with each movement.

Oh -- he's never done this. Never held anyone. Never kissed anyone.

Never made love to anyone.

It was a revelation and a thing of joy, to know that someone as private and controlled as Heero would trust him. He held on, returning the kiss with hungry excitement, swallowing Heero's hot breath, hands roving over the slender, tense back. It felt so good to touch him, to feel the hot, dangerous creature in his arms relax into his touch, trusting him enough to allow it. Duo closed his eyes as Heero's mouth covered his. Someone moaned -- him, Heero, he didn't know.

"Why?"

He blinked open his eyes, and his vision was filled with Heero's face, so close to his, and he closed his eyes again. "What?" He wasn't sure if he'd heard something, or imagined it.

"Why do I need you?" Heero's voice was a hushed, hoarse whisper and he bent to caress Heero's closed eyes with his lips. "Why do you want me, when you should hate me?"

Romantic imagery rolled around Duo's mind; words about people fated to be together, whimsical words that he sensed Heero would reject, right or wrong. In the end, reason gave way to the heart.

"Because you are you," he whispered back against Heero's moist lips, "and I'm me, and we're always going to be better together than apart. Sometimes, there just isn't a reason. Sometimes things just are."

And Heero laughed, for some reason Duo never understood. It was something purely Heero, a sudden understanding of how sometimes you had to throw away the unimportant things, like reasons, to achieve the important things, like love.