He slips into my bed in the darkest part of the night, sliding between the sheets without a whisper. I gasp when I realize he has come to me naked, hair unbound.

His kisses begin without preface, fingers lightly outlining the muscles on my arms, my chest. He has a fascination for the contours of my body, just as his hair enthralls me. I wrap long locks of his beautiful chestnut hair around my hands, and return the kisses with a fervor equaling his. I could kiss him forever. The touch of his lips on mine is addictive, as is the teasing of his tongue running along the edges of my teeth. His kisses may be even more arousing than his touch. I dream of them.

I break away, finally, wanting to sample more of him. I move down his body, stroking, nibbling, bringing pleasure in precisely the way he has taught me. My Duo, my teacher.

His soft whimpers touch me like a caress, erotic aural stroking that makes my cock throb. Little sighs when I lick behind his knees. A sharp gasp, followed by a deep groan as I tongue his shaft. The sounds of his passion undo me, and I only want more.

But it is his turn, evidently, as his muscles coil and he flips me to my back. I go willingly, for he could not make me do such a thing. He is quick and graceful, wiry for his size, but he does not match my strength. He understands this, and is not intimidated by it. He has other abilities.

Like unleashing a part of me I never knew existed. My Duo has made me realize how one-dimensional my life was before he entered it. Now, I hear myself moan as he nips at my chest, and moves on to suck harshly at a nipple. How did he know this was inside of me?

He explores my body, mapping me with tongue and fingers, teasing and taunting until my hips rock with need. I don't know how much more of this I can stand. He stretches me to my limits. Finally, he crawls on top of me, my brain nearly exploding as our erections meet.

"Heero," he sighs into my ear, and I freeze.

"Don't call me that." Don't call me by his name, not here, not like this.

I am not Heero Yuy. Heero Yuy is an icon. Heero Yuy is duty above all, endlessly fighting because the battles never cease. Heero Yuy is war and death and destruction.

I am not Heero Yuy. Not here.

He has stopped, and I know he is staring down at me, although I cannot see in the dark. "What should I call you?" Duo asks, perplexed.

"Anything. Whatever you want. Just not … that name."

He continues to stare, confusion coming off him in waves. I lift my head and kiss him soundly, rocking my hard shaft up against his. It has the desired effect, and he joins in the rhythm I set.

This is my favorite position, and he knows it. To feel the length of his body against mine, every muscle straining, the delicious friction bringing me so close to the edge, so fast. And then he kisses me roughly, his tongue in my mouth, and that is all it takes. I arch against him, coming hard, my body thrusting of its own accord, seeking every bit of sweet pleasure my Duo's body will provide. He copies my movements, nearly a mirror image in his ecstasy. We collapse, his body atop mine for a few more moments as we strain to catch our breath.

Eventually he slides to the mattress, exhaustion overwhelming him. He curls on his side and presses his back against me.

"I can call you anything?" he mumbles as he settles in.

"Yes."

"Can I call you lover?" he whispers, just as he falls asleep.

Lover? The word bites into me. No. Impossible. Duo can't be my lover; I don't know how to love.

Now I am the one who is confused. I cast around in my mind for some frame of reference, some evidence that proves me incapable of such an emotion. It is Odin's voice that answers in the dark, reprimanding me as he so often did.

"Didn't I teach you anything, Boy? Live by your emotions. Be true to your feelings."

"But, I don't know how to love. I don't know what it feels like."

"You've never been the type to indulge in self-delusion," he scoffs. "Why start now?"

"But how do I know?" I insist. I wait in vain for an answer.

I roll to my side and wrap an arm around Duo. My lover? I approach the question the only way I am able to -- logically. What is Duo to me? He is passionate, giving, exasperating, much too talkative, smart, flippant, brave. He is the only person who can make me laugh. He is the only one who has ever touched me intimately. I feel better when he is near me, and I think about him when he is gone. He is a terrible distraction. He is so many things I have never felt before.

Maybe that's the answer. What I feel for him is nothing I've felt before. Maybe this is love.

Light is creeping into the room through the small, unshuttered window. Dawn must be approaching. I pull on Duo's shoulder, wanting to tell him how I feel. Wanting to say that it's possible I just may love him.

But his shoulder feels bony, suddenly, and when he turns to me in the gray light, it is Shinigami I see. The face of Death stares at me from hollow eye sockets.

I scrabble backwards, screaming and fighting against the sheets that are twisted around my body. I can't get away, and he is reaching toward me with long, bony fingers. He grabs my arms, pulling at me. I scream and scream.

"Heero, wake up!" A voice appears from nowhere, calling to me. Duo's voice.

"Wake up!" Strong hands shake my shoulders.

I open my eyes. He is there, warm and naked in my bed, violet eyes staring at me with concern.

I shake my head. "Gomen, Duo. I must have been dreaming."