Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ A Reason For Me ❯ Part Two: Chapter Four ( Chapter 7 )

Title: A Reason For Me
Author: Prynesque
Genre: Yaoi/slash, romance, angst
Pairing: 1x2
Rated: R
Warnings: Potential (though unintended) OOC, some swearing, lime/lemon, alternating POV, possible Australian-isms.
Feedback: Hell yeah? What I'm trying to say is that if you feel the urge to review, please indulge it. I don't even care what you say. Good, bad, it's all the same to me - just so long as I get to hear from you.
Disclaimer: Duo, Heero, Gundam Wing… they are copywrited to someone else. They are being used without permission and no money is being made. I reiterate: they aren't mine (and if you think they are you should probably take this opportunity to get your head checked). However, this story is mine and mine alone, and if you so much as think of nicking any part of it, I'll hunt you down and set my demon kitty cat on you (be afraid, be very afraid).
Notes: This story is AU. It's set in modern-day Chicago and I think it's safe to say that that means there will be no mentions of Gundams, colonies or any other various fantastical science fiction-related entities. This story is also slash (or yaoi or whatever you want to call it), so if you don't like that… well, bugger off and come back when you have some taste!

Author's Notes: Phwaw! I've had the weekend from Hell. Let it be known to all the little kiddies out there that procrastinating like mad and leaving all your work to be done at the last minute at 2:30am is NOT A GOOD IDEA! I wish I could say I've learned my lesson, but I doubt I have. Anyway, two essays and a thesis outline later and I'm a free woman again. Well, until the next period of stress-inducing due dates at any rate. And I still somehow managed to find the time to finish this chapter. How talented am I?

Meh, ignore me, just read the blurry thing. I hope you enjoy it and please leave me a note… I really need to hear something nice and positive to make up for that horrifying weekend of doom. Please?

Part Two - Chapter Four:

Duo

I'm falling. The wind rushes past me as I tumble through the blackness. My heart is racing and I feel sick to my stomach, nausea washing over me in waves as I plummet.

I know I'm dreaming… this nightmare is a regular occurrence. You'd think I'd be used to it by now, but I'm not; it's still as fucking scary as it ever was.

Even though I am aware of the fact that this is just a dream, I'm still powerless to stop it. I'm helpless in this dream of mine and I start to panic. My arms stretch away from me, searching, clawing at the darkness for something to hold on, for something to save me. But there is nothing there but black emptiness.

Slowly the shadows fade and I can see the ground rushing up to meet me. I close my eyes and wait for impact. I never wake up in time to save myself from the collision; I always hit, waking simultaneously, the shock and the pain of my body crushed between solid ground and gravity still rippling through me.

I can feel myself speeding up, getting closer and closer to the ground, waiting, heart in mouth, for the sickening crunch of contact.

I open my eyes at the last moment… I'm just metres above the ground. I screw my eyes shut so tight it's painful. But the crash doesn't come.

Suddenly I'm awake; my breath is ragged, echoing around the silent room. I close my eyes again, blacking out the darkness of the room, as I try to slow my heart rate, as I try to regain control of my body. And all the while I'm wondering why I didn't hit the ground.

And then, unexpectedly, a hand finds mine… smooth warm flesh slides across my palm, fingers interlace. I breathe in relief as I find something in the darkness to hold onto.

"Duo? Are you alright?" An urgent, worried whisper breaks through the blackness and I open my eyes to find Heero leaning over me. Those deep blue eyes are bright in the darkened gloom and his warmth is seeping into me, chasing away the shadows.

And that's when I remember where I am. I came back.

For a second time I find myself waking in Heero's bed, his sheets wrapped around me, his scent lingering in the air. But this time it's different because Heero is right next to me, his body so close, his hand in mine, his gaze flickering over my face, etched with lines of concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I croak, huskily. "Sorry, did I wake you?" He's holding my hand and right now, it feels like his fingers laced through mine are the only things keeping me from falling again.

"Yes, but it doesn't matter. It's almost seven; time I was getting up anyway." His voice is so low and smooth, slightly clipped but reassuring. Damn, shivers again.

I stare up at him and as our eyes meet he seems to realise the position we're in. He blushes uncertainly and pulls away, his hand slipping from mine. I want to pull him back, to curl my fingers around his again, but I don't.

He slides gracefully out of the bed, straightening up. His joints pop slightly as he stretches and his t-shirt rises up. Suddenly I really, really want to run my fingers along the strip of firm, muscled flesh that is revealed. Shit! Stop thinking like that, Duo!

He turns back to me and gives me a tiny smile. I return it as I watch him pad quietly across the room to the bathroom.

He flicks the light on and I lift myself gently onto one elbow, watching as he bends over the sink and washes his face. He reaches for his tooth brush and as he straightens up, our eyes meet in the mirror.

I'm slightly torn. I know I should get up. Heero probably has to get to work and he doesn't want me lounging around like some decadent sloth while he's trying to get ready. But this bed is just so warm and comfortable. I really don't want to leave.

Slowly I drag myself out of bed, stumbling slightly as I try to untangle myself from the covers. I bet Heero doesn't sleep like this, twisted in the sheets. I remember that first night in his hotel room… he slept curled up, neat and tidy. I wonder if he still sleeps like that. I wish I'd woken before him so I could see.

I pause in the bathroom doorway as he bends forward again to rinse his mouth. He looks sideways, glancing up at me through his unruly bangs; he looks like he's been dragged through a hedge backwards. It's pretty fucking cute.

Cute's not word I'd normally use to describe Heero. Puppies and kittens are cute, grown men that are polite and smart (but who still manage to ooze unconscious sex appeal) aren't supposed to be cute. But in this moment, hair falling in his eyes as he stares up at me, Heero is cute. Damn! I'm pretty sure I've got this pathetically goofy smile on my face. I'm such an idiot.

There is a flash of confusion on Heero's face, but it's gone by the time he has straightened up. He is just about to drop his toothbrush back into the cup by the sink when he turns to me with this annoyingly unreadable expression on his face. Slowly he holds the toothbrush out to me, his eyebrows raised in offer.

Is he kidding? Now I know I'm looking like an idiot. My mouth is hanging open and I probably look like a stunned mullet. Is he really offering me his toothbrush?

It's such an intimate gesture. It's the kinda thing lovers do; borrowing each other's toothbrush just feels natural because they've already shared everything else with each other.

I reach out and grasp the offered item, trying not to think of all the personal connotations of such a gesture; my fingers brush against Heero's and I've got the shivers again. Bloody Hell, Maxwell! Pull yourself together.

"Thanks," I croak, swallowing hard.

He doesn't smile at me but the corners of his lips turn upwards ever so slightly and then he slips past me back into the bedroom. I hear the creak of the door as he disappears into the living room and then turn back to stare at myself in the mirror.

Slowly, automatically, I run the toothbrush under the tap and squeeze the minty gel out of the tube. And then I'm brushing my teeth. With Heero's toothbrush. And it feels like I'm still stuck in that bloody dream. This is too surreal.

I spit and rinse and then I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. If I try really hard, I can almost pretend that this is really my life, that this is my bathroom and that the plastic toothbrush in my hand is my lover's; he lets me borrow it because he loves me…

Now I'm just dreaming again. And everyone knows that dreams don't come true.

Gently, I place the toothbrush back in its holder. It winks up at me, blue plastic shimmering under the bright bathroom lights. And suddenly, out of the blue, it feels like I'm falling again. My insides lurch uncomfortably and I stumble forwards, my hands finding the edge of the porcelain basin and holding on for dear life.

The sensation passes and I slowly, cautiously uncurl myself. When my eyes find my reflection in the mirror again, the dream is over. All I see is a pale skinny man with shadows under his eyes and strands of loose hair stuck to his clammy forehead.

I escape back into Heero's bedroom and sit down heavily on the corner of his bed. Why on earth did I come back here? What demon crawled into my brain and convinced me that it was a good idea? Fucked if I know. All I remember is being so tired and lonely last night…

Actually my last trick wasn't all that bad, well for a trick anyway. He was one of those quiet, shy, guilty types... ashamed of the fact that he's attracted to men, of the fact that he's tried all sorts of things with women, on and off the streets, but it doesn't work and he still ends up coming back to guys like me.

I know why he picked me. It's the hair… it's because if he works hard enough, he can fool himself into thinking I'm female. He takes me from behind, he closes his eyes and he pretends that he's normal.

When I was a kid at the Maxwell Orphanage I used to get teased by the other kids because of my long hair. They'd call me a girl and a sissy. I'd get angry and usually end up hitting them. At the time it seemed like the only way I could show them that they were wrong; they seemed to get the message.

Sister Helen took me aside and told me that violence wasn't the answer, that instead of getting angry, I should be compassionate, I should help them see past their intolerance. I wonder if she'd still say that if she could see my life now?

Anyway, once upon a time, being androgenous was the bane of my existence but now I use it to my advantage. If it means I get tricks that are shy and awkward, who are more afraid of me than I am of them, who'll pay me and leave as soon as they're done… well, then it's worth being called a girl.

His name was Andrew. Or at least that's what he told me. It was probably the truth, actually. He didn't strike me as the type to lie to other people, especially about the little things. He only lies to himself, and only about the big things. I suppose he's a bit like me, really. OK, that's a depressing thought.

He was one of those guys who likes to make small talk as he drives me to the nearest motel, trying to quash the guilt he feels because he knows he didn't pick me up to talk to me.

At least he was quick, not one for stamina. Not that I cared. I just wanted to get the Hell outta there. He threw his money at me as he left, desperately trying not to look at me. And then sated, he went home to his empty flat; I doubt a guy like him is married. I almost felt sorry for him. Nah, not really.

I left via the fire escape. I hate having to walk through the lobby of a hotel, past the receptionist who knows exactly what I've been doing and whose expression of disgust betrays exactly what she thinks of me.

I got as far as the payphone outside. I started to call Joe. He usually picks me up afterwards and take me back to my patch so that I can wait for the next trick and for the damn whole cycle to start again. I was halfway through dialling when I just stopped. I couldn't bring myself to finish.

And before I knew what I was doing I was standing outside Heero's apartment building again. I'm weak, I know. But I just needed to see him again. Just needed to feel safe and warm and cared for… just once more. And I swear it will be just once more.

He was so sweet, too. Just let me in, didn't ask me why I was here, didn't make me feel unwelcome, just let me in as though he'd been expecting me all along.

And maybe he had been expecting me. Maybe I'm that transparent. Maybe he knew I wouldn't have the strength to stay away. Actually, I don't really care. It's just once more, after all.

I fold my arms across my chest, pulling Heero's t-shirt tighter around my frame. I resolve that I'll stop thinking about… well, everything. I'll go into the kitchen and have breakfast with Heero and I'll pretend I'm normal. I don't have to face up to my life just yet.

My gaze drops to the clock beside Heero's bed; it's one of those fancy alarm clock things that have so many functions, it takes you a week just to figure out how to work it. Not that I've ever owned one, that's just the impression I get from looking at it. And actually, I bet Heero is one of those people who can look at a machine and knows exactly how to work it. He probably never has to read the instructions.

The flashing red numbers read 7:03am. It feels like I've been sitting on this bed for a lot longer than five minutes. I haul myself up and cross the room to grasp the door handle.

My breath catches in my throat as I open the door. Heero is standing in the living room. His legs are wide apart and one knee is bent as he leans over it. His arms are stretched out, his head turned to the right to stare past his finger tips.

He's so still, he almost looks like a statue. There is a look of intense concentration on his face, the only thing betraying how hard he is working.

"What are you doing?" I didn't really mean to say that aloud, but now that I have, I wait patiently for his answer, leaning gently against the doorframe.

His head turns ever so slightly back towards me. "Yoga. Standing strength," he says quietly. "This position is called 'Warrior Two.'" I can see where it got its name from. Heero does look like a warrior… strong and graceful and controlled… a perfect warrior.

"I didn't figure you for the yoga type," I say after a moment, realising that I've been admiring his figure for just a fraction too long. "I always thought it was a bit… you know… hippy and well, girly." I blush as soon as the words leave my mouth. Right now, Heero looks anything but effeminate.

He hums. "Yes, I used to think that too. But then I saw Trowa doing it one morning and was entranced. He taught me. I was hopeless at first but then I grew to love it. It's not wishy-washy at all. It's about strength and power and control and it's a great work out; brilliant for muscle conditioning. The amount of strength it requires to hold a pose like this is phenomenal." I believe him. His muscle are taut with tension, I can see them working beneath the thin material of his clothes. "Of course, there is a spiritual side to yoga as well, but I don't really go in for all that." He casts me a wry grin.

I lick my lips unconsciously. "Teach me?" Shit, did I say that out loud?

"Really?" he asks me, his voice is confused but his face is blank. Yep, definitely said it aloud. Big fucking mouth, Duo! I nod, not really trusting myself to speak. He smiles again and then gently pulls himself out of his position.

"Come here," he holds out his hand to me. I step forwards and my fingers find his. I let him manoeuvre me into position.

"Spread your legs wide," he tells me, releasing my hand and moving to stand behind me. I try desperately not to think of all the times I've heard that said before.

"Now bend your right leg." I twist as I bend and suddenly his hands are on my hips. I stop breathing.

"No, keep your hips facing forwards." Those hands twist be back to the front. He's standing so close behind me, I can feel his warmth seeping into me.

"Now, lift your arms." His fingers curl around my wrists, lifting my arms up and stretching them out, parallel to my legs. "Now turn your head to the right and look out over your fingertips." His breath is warm on the back of my neck.

"And there you go. Warrior Two. Don't forget to breathe," he whispers as he steps away from me. It's only when I can no longer feel his warmth behind me that I allow myself to exhale again.

He moves around so that he's standing in front of me and then, facing me, he moves into the position himself. He's much more graceful about it than I am.

I've been standing in Warrior Two for barely a few minutes when I suddenly realise how right Heero was when he said it was about strength and control. Already my shoulders are feeling tired and I have to use every ounce of strength I have to keep my legs from shaking. I twist my head a little to the left to look at Heero. He is perfectly still. He makes it look so easy.

My head turns back but in that tiny movement, I lose my focus and then shortly after, my balance. I fall forwards, closing my eyes and waiting to connect with the floorboards but instead I find myself careering into firm, warm body.

Heero lets out an "oof" of surprise as I fall into him. His arms wrap around my waist and he cushions my fall with his body. There is a solid thud as we hit the floor. For a moment I just lie there… and that's when I realise that I'm lying on top him with his arms curled around me. I find myself staring into deep blue eyes and I forget to breathe again. I hastily pull away, struggling to disentangle myself. His arms release me as I stumble to my feet.

"Shit, I'm sorry! I ruined it," I wail. He holds out his hand to me and I pull him to his feet.

"No, it's OK. You aren't the first to confuse me for a landing mat," he chuckles quietly, obviously lost in a private memory. He turns back to me. "You were doing really well," he tells me. "Up until your spectacular fall, that is." He smiles and I have a feeling the expression on my face is a cross between embarrassed and disbelieving. "No, really, you're much better at it than I was when I first started," he reassures me and I can't help smiling after that.

"Come on, I'll show you the Salute to the Sun," he says, taking my arm and turning me slightly so that we're facing the door to the balcony which is open and allowing the sun to stream in.

"Salute to the Sun?" I question. "Now that sounds more trippy."

"Yes, I suppose it is. The focus is more on breathing than strength. OK, inhale, arms up. Keep them straight." He lifts his arms gracefully so that his fingertips meet above his head. I mirror his movement, inhaling. "Now, exhale and bend forwards at the waist." Heero can touch the floor without bending his knees, but I'm not that flexible and my knees bend slightly so that my fingers can brush the smooth floorboards.

I feel kinda stupid and tell Heero this. He chuckles lightly. "Shh, focus on your breathing. Deep breaths, in and out through your nose. It's brilliant for stress-relief and you can do it anywhere." Dutifully, I shut up and focus on my breathing.

"Bend your knees and take your right foot back into a lunge." I watch Heero and then copy. I feel incredibly ungainly but at least I haven't fallen over again.

"OK, look up and then take your left foot back as well. Exhale." I follow his movement and now I have my arse in the air and I feel a bit like a tent. "Stay there," Heero says and pulls himself out of the pose. He approaches me and then his hand his on the back of my head. He guides my head down gently. "Tuck your chin in, and look behind you," he tells me. "Now straighten your arms and push back as though you're trying to get them flat on the floor." His hands trail up my arms and over my shoulders, pressing down gently. Suddenly my breathing is the last thing I'm thinking about. "Don't worry, your arse is supposed to stick out like that," he says, seeing the rather dubious look on my face. "Try to get your heels as close to the floor as possible. If you practice, eventually one day your hamstrings will be flexible enough that you can have them flat against the ground."

He moves away again and moves back into the position. His heels are flat against the wooden boards. "This is called 'Downward Facing Dog,'" he tells me and I have to smile.

"Downward Facing Dog? How did they come up that name?"

He laughs. "I don't know. You'd have to ask Trowa. But most yoga poses have ridiculous names. Cow face pose, half-lotus, dead bug pose…" he trails off. "Actually the dead bug pose is rather accurate… very reminiscent of a dead bug."

"Shhh," I tell him. "Focus on your breathing." I take a brief moment away from my own breathing to look smug. Heero just rolls his eyes.

"Now, up on your toes and move forwards into 'Plank'. Inhale." I copy his movement wishing I looked even half as graceful as him. The muscles around my stomach are immediately straining and my arms shake slightly. "Best abdominal workout, you'll get," he says. "If you're interested in washboard abs."

He doesn't seem to realise the connotations of those words but I sure do. I try not to think of what Heero looks like with his shirt off and focus on inhaling.

"Now float down, tuck under and pull up. Exhale." I watch him move and then follow. My triceps give out halfway through the movement and I flop down onto the floor.

"Don't worry about it. Just come into Upward Facing Dog," he tells me. I lift my upper body, propping it up with my arms. "Turn your toes under and push back into Downward Facing Dog again. Inhale." We move simultaneously though I have a bit of a wobble halfway through.

As I settle back into the position, I find myself having distinctly inappropriate thoughts. All this having your arse in the air and moving down and then back up again… well, you get the picture. It's strange, you know? I haven't been able to joke about sex for years; it was always too close to the bone. But now I find myself laughing.

"What?" Heero asks, turning his head slightly to look at me.

"I was just thinking that these moves are kinda kinky," I tell him, biting my lip to stop the chuckles.

Heero rolls his eyes. "Only if you have a mind that resides in the gutter," he mutters.

His face returns to concentration and he turns again. "OK, swing your right foot forward into lunge and look up. Exhale. Now bring your left foot forward as well. Inhale. Stay bent at the waist in Forward Fold. Tuck your head under. Exhale. Now straighten up, lifting your arms. Inhale."

I sweep my arm up in a wide circle, breathing out as my fingers meet. Heero's right. This whole breathing thing is very relaxing.

"Now, bring your arms down again, back to your sides. Exhale. And that's it."

"That's it?"

"Well, no now we have to do it all again leading with the left foot and then that's an entire cycle," he tells me.

"OK, let's do it," I say determinedly. And so we move through the motions one more time. It's easier second time through. I'm more confident with my movements and there is less wobbling. Heero doesn't come over to help me with my Downward Facing Dog and I find myself rather disappointed.

When we straighten up again for the second time, Heero turns to me, smiling. "You're a natural," he tells me. I cast him a look that probably says something like 'yeah, right.'

"I'm serious," he replies. "I was so stiff and wooden when I first started. I had to learn to be graceful and it took me forever. You have it naturally."

I'm fairly sure I'm blushing. I mumble a thank you, staring at the floor, not quite trusting myself to look up. I'm suddenly assaulted by the memory of Heero's hands around my waist, on the back of my head, the small of my back and I have to remind myself that any minute I'm going to leave this apartment for good and that I can't let myself get sucked in again.

I think Heero must sense that I'm feeling awkward because he takes pity on me and changes the subject. "Right, well I should probably have a shower and get ready for work. Although I'd much rather stay home."

I have to smile when he says this even if I am trying to ignore the little voice inside me that is saying the exact same thing.

He disappears into the bathroom and a moment later I hear the rushing sound of the water. God, you have no idea how much I want to see what Heero looks like with hot water running down his naked body.

Yeah, I'm going to Hell, I know. He just wants to help me, be my friend, and here I am having all sorts of naughty thoughts, which leads to all sorts of problems arising. I try to force myself to think of the most un-sexy thing imaginable. It's not very hard; I see it every day, after all.

I've been attracted to people before, but that was a long time ago. It's probably been several years since I was properly attracted to someone.

When I was younger sometimes my body would react of its own accord, I couldn't control it. I wasn't attracted to the person I was with by any stretch of the imagination, but I was a teenager and evidently teenage guys can get hard even when they're repulsed. I used to hate myself and my body for it; it felt like it was betraying me.

But now, years of teenage hormones behind me, I can control my body and its responses. And when you see the kinda guys I do on a regular basis, it tends to kill any sense of attractiveness. It gets to the stage where I don't feel desirable and no one else ever looks desirable.

But not Heero. Today, the same as five years ago, there is attraction like you wouldn't believe; mental and emotional as well as physical, although to be strictly truthful, there is a lot of physical attraction happening here. I'm only human.

I used to dream about having this kind of a connection with someone. To find a person that I felt comfortable enough with to just be myself, to let my guard down. If it hadn't been with Heero, I never would have let all that yoga stuff happen. Bent over with your arse in the air is not a position I would usually put myself in if I didn't have to, it makes me feel too vulnerable. But with Heero… it was fine; I knew I could trust him.

That's actually a rather scary thought. I'm used to trusting nobody, not even Smokey or Joe. I never let anyone in and so I was always protected. And then Heero comes along and destroys that with one fell swoop and I find myself not minding at all…

Oh God, I have to stop thinking about this. I'll never be able to leave otherwise.

The sun has slowly been rising. Before, the bright rays that shone in hit me at chest level, but now I have to turn my face away to protect my eyes from the glare. I take this as my cue and I retreat back to Heero's bedroom.

The shower is still running so I'm safe from interruption for the moment. I borrow Heero's brush and I comb out my braid, tangled from a restless sleep. The scent of Heero's shampoo lingers in my hair. "Sea Breeze," same as it was five years ago. They don't sell that brand here in Chicago. I know because I looked. For months after that first night with Heero, I looked for the blue "Sea Breeze" bottle with the dolphins on the label. But I couldn't find it. I wonder what Heero will buy when he runs out, which he probably will very soon if I keep using it to wash my mane.

My fingers work the hair back into a braid, it's always harder when its dry but it still takes me only a little over a minute to complete. I've got this braiding business down to a fine art by now.

My clothes are still in the same position I dropped them in last night, sitting in a little dejected pile by the bathroom door. I pull them on reluctantly. I feel more naked, more vulnerable in these clothes than I do when I'm actually naked… probably because these clothes make me feel like I'm asking for it.

I wince and sit heavily on the bed to do up the laces of my knee-high boots. My head jerks up as I hear the rushing sound of the shower cease.

I'm on my feet in a second and I'm suddenly struck by the urge to leave. If I go now, just slip out while Heero's not looking, then I won't have to go through all that business of saying goodbye.

Before I know what I'm doing, one hand is curling around the front door handle, the other releasing the bolts. I stop myself before I actually manage to get the door open and back away, heart in my throat.

I run away all the time. It's just what I do. I run, I hide, but I never lie. But this time I refuse to run. Heero doesn't deserve that.

I force myself into the kitchen and I sit at the table and I wait for Heero to reappear. When he does, he's dressed in a suit. He suddenly looks much older. Classy folds of grey material add years to his appearance, but he tugs unconsciously at his tie and for the briefest of moments he looks like a kid playing dress-ups with his father's clothes. Of course, the moment passes and he looks mature and responsible again, just another smart businessman.

His hair is still damp and he runs his fingers through it, droplets of water trickling down his hands and soaking into the cuff of his shirt. His lips purse ever so slightly in irritation.

He looks up and sees me and a flash of surprise flickers across his face before he controls it. I think he expected me to leave. I think he knows me better than I give him credit for.

"Breakfast?" he asks casually, smiling.

I nod and my stomach rumbles a moment later. Heero smiles as he turns away to the cupboards. The box he puts down on the table is not the one I'm expecting.

"Fruit-Loops?" I ask, taken aback.

"You said you liked them…" he stops abruptly and clears his throat awkwardly. "I wanted to see what all the fuss was about," he finishes.

I'm touched by Heero's thoughtful gesture but I can't quite figure out how to tell him this. In the end, I tell him a story, hoping he'll get my cryptic message. "We used to have Fruit-Loops at the Orphanage. Every Saturday morning as a treat. It was a tradition and all the kids used to race down the moment the bells rang, yanno, to make sure they didn't miss out. Father Maxwell used to say we had earned it for making it through the week. I haven't had them since the Orphanage… well, for years," I trail off.

"You're welcome," Heero says softly, sliding into the chair opposite me and then pushing the milk across the table. I don't look up at him, but I do smile and I can sense him doing the same.

For several minutes we just eat, allowing a comfortable silence to descend. Comfortable silences are not something I'm particularly used to and after a while, I find myself getting slightly fidgety.

"So what you got planned for today?" I ask, mentally cursing myself for my uninspired conversation starter.

I'm painfully aware of the fact that, unlike me, Heero finishes chewing and swallows before he answers. "Work. Drafting and re-drafting proposals, meetings, phone calls. The usual," he says shortly.

"Sounds… well, actually kinda boring," I say candidly.

He smiles faintly. "Yes, it is a bit. We're still in the planning stages. By next week we should have approval and then we can start building prototypes."

I'm impressed. I don't even know why. I know fuck all about computers, after all, but 'building prototypes' sounds very high-tech and exciting.

"I bet it pays a ton," I think aloud. Shit, I really have to start thinking before I open my mouth.

Heero laughs. "Yes, it does rather." He doesn't say anything more than that and I smile, glad that Heero has managed to keep the conversation from descending into awkward money talk.

The clock on the microwave has just flashed 8:05am when Heero pushes his chair away from the table and deposits his breakfast bowl in the sink.

He clears his throat hesitantly. "I have to go. My train leaves at quarter past."

I nod but for the life of me I can't seem to get my limbs to work. I sit there like a gormless idiot. I'm not ready for this once more to be over.

Heero disappears and I can hear him moving about in the living room. There is a gentle, mechanical tinkle which I presume is his computer shutting down. The sound jolts me like a shock of electricity and I'm suddenly on my feet, my chair sliding backwards across the floorboards with a slight scrape.

I join Heero in the living room and for several moments we stand awkwardly by the front door, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Heero's face is an expressionless mask. It feels like he's desperately trying to hold all his emotions in. I try to do the same, but I don't think I'm as successful at it as Heero is.

"Thank you," I croak eventually, breaking the self-conscious silence. "For letting me stay." I stop abruptly, not really sure what I'm trying to say.

"You're welcome," he responds a moment later.

"Iwon'tcomeback," I say, the words tumbling out of my mouth in a jumbled mess. I wince and then try again. "I won't come back." The words hang between us. I'm uncomfortable aware of the fact that those were the exact words I said last time. But this time I mean it. I won't be coming back. I can't.

"OK," he shrugs slightly, staring down at the gleaming oak floorboards. "You're welcome anytime, though," he adds.

"Thank you," I say again. I grasp his hand briefly. And then I take a deep breath and then I swing the door open and step forwards.

I'm running before I even realise it. I don't look back to where Heero is standing in the doorway, I just bolt down the corridor. I don't wait for the elevator; I simply swerve to the left and fly down the stairs, down all nineteen flights. My footsteps hammer on the metal steps, the heavy thuds echoing up and down the narrow staircase.

I shoot across the lobby. The doorman moves to open the door for me, but I beat him to it, flinging it open and nearly knocking him down in my haste. I don't stop to apologise. In fact, I don't stop until I'm three blocks away. By that stage my heart is thumping painfully in my chest and by breath is coming in short, ragged bursts.

I sink down into a seated position on the curb, my heavy boots resting in the gutter. I close my eyes and wait for my body to relax again.

When it does, I lift my head wearily, staring at the cars and buses that rush past me down the street. On a crowded sidewalk in the middle of Chicago I suddenly feel so very alone. And it's all my fault. But this has to be the end of it. It was just once more and now it's over.

I jerkily get to my feet and make my way home. I pass under a railway bridge as a train goes thundering over head. I wonder if Heero is on it?

I'm a few blocks from home when I stop. I grip onto a nearby lamp-post for support and I make myself a silent promise. I won't go back.

But I made that promise once before and, second time round, nothing has changed and I find myself breaking it just as easily.

I can't stop myself. I go back. Again. And again and again.

TBC…

Author's Notes: And here we are again, at the end once more. A bit of trivia for you: the yoga scene was the originally plot bunny that spawned this here baby of mine. I was early to my yoga class and witnessed the instructor guiding this poor young guy through his moves and I suddenly had an "ooh, this has Heero/Duo potential" moment. So I filed the idea away for later but then the plot bunny came back with a vengence and an entire plot attached. And here we are. OK, trivia time over.

Now, it is your duty, as readers of fanfic, to review. I write, you review… that's just how the system works. And you wouldn't want me giving up my end of the bargin now would you? So what do you do? Yep, you got it. Review.

A giant huge THANK YOU to everyone who has taken their duty seriously and has reviewed the story so far. I appreciated it like you wouldn't believe. Love youse all.