Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Behind Blue Eyes ❯ Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER: I think it is too obvious for me to bother and say it, but still: I don't own them. I do own Nora, though. She is MINE. *evil laugh*

WARNING: NC-17. Angst, sex, drama, reference to past NCS. 1+OFC (non-romantic relationship), OMCx1 / OFCx1 (just a one night stand). Eventual 2x1 (that means that there's no 2x1 going around for at least a half of the fic!).

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ahh... winter. The rain, the cloudy skies, the puddles on the road and the mud you walk through on the way to base... I love winter. The weather is so inspiring... the gloomy atmosphere just begs for something to be written down on paper. Sitting shivering in my military-issued raincoat, inside a freezing office located in some God forsaken base, I suddenly had a flash of lightning in my head that told me- WRITE! So I wrote. And this is what came out of it.

Enjoy.

Naomi

BEHIND BLUE EYES

PART ONE

* * *

The rain was pouring hard over the gray streets of the city. The mirror-glass windows were slick with water and covered with vapor from the inside. People ran up and down the pavement, rubbing their glove-clad hands while their trench coats flapped behind them. The consistent drizzle painted the streets with a darker shade, gathering in mirror-like puddles. Heavy gray clouds trailed lazily up in the heavens, crawling along the city skyline as they sprayed it with icy water.

The traffic, of course, was unaffected by the chilly winter weather, and the humming of vehicles could be heard clearly over the rain. The colorful traffic lights glittered over watery car tops. They painted the puddles on the road with flashing colors of red, yellow and green, disturbed only when a car raced through the puddle, splashing about.

In this frigid winter morning, people did not bother too much with being friendly. They rushed along the city streets, hurrying to their office where it was safe and warm. They didn't spare each other one glance, their hands shoved deeply into their pockets and their gazes locked on the ground, trying to avoid the nasty puddles that tainted their path. Once in a while a person or two would stop, cursing as a car splashed them with water or after having their expensive shoes sink into a puddle.

Having all of their attention absorbed into their own selves, none of the passer-bys noticed the solemn young man walking among them. The man, barely out of his teens, was walking against the flow of people, hardly even trying to avoid colliding with any of them. His forlorn blue eyes were glued to the ground as he walked, his slim body shivering under his worn out jacket. The cheap brown jacket was wet from the rain, as was the boy's chocolate brown hair, which was plastered to his face. The pale features were blank and unrevealing what went behind the expressionless visage. The young man's eyes, though, told volumes of his past. Tales of sadness, anguish, hurt and longing hid within the mysterious blue oceans, as if held captive within an icy jewel-like prison.

The rain began to pour harder, and people ran towards their work place, some taking shelter inside the nearest skyscraper. The young man's pace did not change, and still he kept walking slowly towards his destination, uncaring that his clothes were wet and his wild brown bangs were dripping water. After some time, when the chilly breeze has already managed to make his lips nearly blue, the young man stopped in front of a small, modest, diner. With a sigh that raised vapor from his lips, he pushed the heavy glass doors and entered.

Once inside the simple diner, he was grateful for the heat that surrounded him. He quickly shed his soaked jacket as he made his way to the kitchen. His uniforms, a pair of simple black trousers and a white, blue and pink collared-shirt, were also wet from the rain. His boss, a scornful old man, flashed him a harsh look over his newspaper. He watched as the teen arranged his things in the kitchen, nodded his hello to the cook and then turned to greet him as well. No words broke through the teen's lips. It was the look in his eyes and the slight nodding of his head that spoke for him. The old man shook his head in disappointment and returned to his newspaper.

"You're late, Yuy. Get to work." He muttered sternly even as his young worker was already making his way out of the kitchen and out towards the service counter.

Not a word slipped passed the teen's lips as he arranged his post behind the cash register, his slender shoulders still shivering from the cold, his teeth also chattering. He took his name-tag from a small shelf under the counter and pinned it to his front pocket in distaste. He eyed the letters spelling his name, a bit of sarcasm in his otherwise cold blue eyes. Although the name-tag did say 'Heero Yuy', he couldn't honestly say that he had any other proof that it was indeed his name. As ridicules as it was, this silly name-tag was the only proof he had for even having a name. He carried no ID; he possessed no identity at all. As far as the modern, bureaucratic world was concerned, he didn't even exist.

Maybe that was the reason he should be a bit more mindful of arriving to work in time. Not many places nowadays would hire someone who didn't officially exist. As much as he hated this job, as much as he wanted to quit each time his boss gave him another lecture on whatever he felt like shouting at him at that moment, he knew that it was his only option right now.

The world was not kind to ex-soldiers with no identity. The post-war world was not as grateful as to be expected of it. He berated himself for expecting ANYTHING from a world that has so far proven hostile towards him. There wasn't a moment in his life in which he recalled feeling at peace with the world. His life was a constant struggle, even now, nine months and three weeks after the end of the war.

Despite the freezing weather and rain, costumers did start to pour into the diner. He took their orders, served their food, thanked them politely for a small tip and just let the day pass by him in an agonizing pace. He hated his life, but he became numb towards the feeling. He simply learned to accept it.

* * *

Engulfed by bitterness, Heero finished his work for the day. He took his now dry jacket off the coat hanger in the kitchen, muttered an almost inaudible goodbye to his grumpy employer and left the diner. Outside, the wind was blowing hard, tousling his bangs wildly and spraying him with a cold shower of rain. He clutched his jacket close to his torso, as if the shabby piece of clothing will provide enough shelter from the cold. Unlike that morning, his pace was fast as he hurried towards the nearest bus station. He caught the bus just before its departure from the station, panting as he ran into the vehicle. He thanked the driver for waiting a second more, paid him and took a seat in the back of the bus.

Sighing, he slumped into the seat and wiped his damp bangs aside. He leaned heavily against the cool window, his numb blue eyes watching the city lights pass by in a blur. The streets were dark now, at this late evening hour. The wet asphalt roads and pavements reflected the many neon signs decorating the streets. Numerous people walked among the shops, despite the freezing weather. He thought about getting off by the nearest supermarket, but he had worked two shifts straight today and he was too exhausted to go and buy his weekly groceries. It can wait; he wasn't hungry anyway. He hardly ever was. He only ate because he knew he had too, and even those cases were becoming rare. He wasn't hungry, so why bother to spend money on food? It was just a big waste of something he was already running low on.

After a twenty minute bus ride, Heero was walking heavily towards his apartment building, his shoulders slumped and his gaze cast down. Though the rain had stopped pouring, the chilly wind was still howling, hitting his back harshly even as he entered the building.

Entering his small, one room, apartment, he dropped his keys on the small table by the door, and waddled tiredly towards his miniature kitchen. His movements were like an automaton as he placed a kettle on the stove and boiled some water. Opening the cupboard, he took out a large black mug, with a small chip and a crack on the edge. He sighed heavily as he worked through the motions, unthinking as his hands did the work they knew so well. His eyes showed how much the routine was killing him, but his hands still moved expertly, making a hot cup of tea.

Still in his wet uniforms, Heero sat by the small kitchen table, with barely enough room for one, and just stared ahead numbly.

The apartment was awfully quiet. The only light to illuminate the small flat was the dim light in the kitchen. Since the place was so small, it was enough to dimly light the living room as well. The sofa was open, taking the form of a small double bed. It took most of the open space in the living room, its edge nearly kissing the small counter on which an old 15" television set stood. A heavy quilt was tossed carelessly on the floor, the sheets tangled and messy - a result of another nightmare.

He didn't bother to clean up the room before he left this morning. During the war he kept his things tidy like a good soldier should. Folding his blanket each morning, military style, and stretching the sheets so well that one could flip a coin on them and the coin will bounce back up. But now... now things were different. There was no point. No point at all. To nothing, really. He had dishes from days ago still lying in the sink, waiting to be washed. He was just too tired, too drained of energy to do anything. Sometimes he was so tired that he couldn't even sleep.

He was cold. Inside and outside. He shivered in his wet clothing, the cool crisp air of the apartment digging into his skin. The heating broke down three days ago and the landlord was too much of a bastard to fix it. He would have done it himself, he surely didn't lack the skill for it, but the cold made him even number. He simply didn't care anymore.

He knew that he was depressed. He could recognize the symptoms well enough, but the paradox was that he was too depressed to even care.

* * *

One of the few joys he had in life - maybe even the only joy he had left - was a warm shower at the end of the day. He spent nearly an hour sitting on the greenish porcelain as he let the showerhead rain warm water on him. The hot currents caressed his body, soothing the numbness and cold for a little while. He scrubbed himself hard, washing his hands so many times until they ached.

Sometimes he could see it, the blood staining his hands. It was a constant feeling of filth clinging to his palms, but sometimes, just for a brief second, he could also see the dark crimsion on his hands. The images were mere flashes of something that wasn't really there, but they were enough to convince him of its existence. When he showered, the feeling would disappear for a little while.

After making sure that his hands were red only because he had scrubbed them too hard, Heero stepped out of the shower. His skin covered with Goosebumps as he walked out of the bathroom and into the cool air of the apartment. He crawled into his sofa/bed, pulled the thick blanket as high as his neck, closed his eyes and pretended that he was dead. He pretended to be lying dead under the warm, soft, earth. Just lying still... listening to silence... The feeling was almost elevating. It was enough to sooth his mind for a few moments, just enough to relax and allow sleep to come.

The silent humming of traffic and the soft tapping of the rain on his window lulled him gently to sleep. In a matter of minutes he will awaken by a paranoid feeling that danger was nearby. The nagging feeling never left him be. He was going crazy, losing his sanity to mental residues of war. Feelings that stole sleep from his aching eyes, that jerked him awake and left him panting from fear in the middle of the night, were constant visitors to his sleep. They were even worse than the unvarying feeling of clotted blood on his hands.

Sometimes his mind would make up stories, sick fantasies of being watched. Being stalked. Tortured. Maybe even killed. He felt trapped, stuck in a corner with his back against the wall. He wanted to die and live at the same time. He wanted... all he really wanted was peace. Not the kind of peace he fought for, but the kind of peace that will let him sleep quietly through the night. He wanted someone to hold him. It was so cold...

Shivering in his bed, Heero closed his eyes tight and slipped into a haunted, restless sleep.

* * *

Another day was over, marking the end of his long week. He had forty eight hours before he had to go back to work. He would have liked to work during the weekend, but his boss did not allow it. The old man insisted that he needed to get a life. Heero guessed that he simply didn't want to pay him so damn much. During this free time he usually slept, curled inside the warm covers. The rest of the weekend he spent working out, trying to keep in shape. There was no real reason for him to work so hard on his body, but at least if he kept himself busy, the demons would wait a little longer before haunting him.

And so, with the thought of a warm bed and a long sleep in mind, Heero made his way home. While walking the short distance from the bus station to his building, he stumbled into a woman, around forty or so, who'd apparently dropped her shopping bag and her groceries were scattered all over the pavement. He caught her sight just when she crouched to pick up her things, her hands feeling around as if she couldn't see. Lying at her feet was a long metal rod, a walking cane of some sort, or rather a guiding cane. It didn't take long for him to realize that she was blind.

Kneeling by her side, Heero reached for an orange and placed it carefully in her bag. "Here, ma'am, let me help." He said, which was probably the first thing he said all week that didn't involve the words "thank you" and "that will be a dollar ninety nine".

He could hear the woman gasp silently and turn in the direction of his voice. She seemed stunned for a moment, before her features hardened with a glare. "I don't need your help, boy, so back off." She muttered, her unseeing blue eyes directed at him despite her blindness. If he had to take a wild guess, he'd say that she was "looking" at his mouth, the sound of his voice like a guide to her eyes.

He looked down at the fallen groceries, his eyes scanning the scene quickly and assessing the situation. He noted that the brown paper bag had torn, its bottom ripped to half. By the amount of groceries lying around them Heero concluded that they weighed too much for such a simple bag. There was no way the woman could use the torn bag, nor would she be able to carry these by herself along with the guiding cane she had to carry. She needed assistance even if she didn't want it.

Taking a deep breath, Heero reached for another vegetable and began gathering the fallen items to his lap. "Your bag is torn," He replied in his regular monotone. "I can help you."

"I might be blind, boy, but I am not incompetent." The woman muttered harshly, her dead eyes managing to look scornful despite their blindness. Crouching in front of her, Heero looked up at her with a slightly baffled expression. He couldn't tear his gaze off her eyes. They were a very intense shade of blue, though they were dull and unfocused. However, despite the fact that her eyes had lost their light, there was still something burning within them. They were too hard, too harsh and unforgiving to be dead. Heero swallowed and hurried to look away. Those eyes were even more lifeless than his own eyes, in more ways than one.

Heero sighed and picked up that last of the groceries, cradling the large pile in his arms. He slowly rose to his feet and looked down at the woman. She slowly stood up herself.

"I'm sorry." He finally said, knowing that he had doubted the woman's ability and humiliated her. "I did not mean to offend you. The bag is torn, and the pile is quite heavy, so I thought..."

His voice slowly trailed off as he noticed that her features were slowly softening. He suddenly realized how beautiful the woman was. Despite the fact that she was old enough to be his mother, he had to admit that she was very attractive. Not that he was drawn to her, God forbid, but it was just something that registered somewhere in the back of his mind. She had long brown hair, which was a much lighter shade than his, and reached down to her knees. It was gathered in a simple braid, lying carelessly agaisnt her thick black raincoat. Her features were thin and her skin rather smooth for a woman her age. She was about his height, and her figure was slender. She had a very dignified air around her, something almost noble in the way she stood. Her body was rigid even though her features had softened a bit. He couldn't help but sense that she was feeling threatened by him. He wondered what could have made her so distrustful. Then again, considering the war that had raged not so long ago, he shouldn't be so surprised.

"I don't mean any harm." He finally finished, trying to look apologetic, though she couldn't possibly see him. "I just thought I could be of assistance."

The woman frowned, wrinkles appearing on her forehead. She seemed so suspicious of him, making his feel uncomfortable. "All right, if you insist. But I don't want to be of any trouble."

"You won't." He hurried to assure her. "I don't have anything better to do anyway."

The woman's frown deepened, like she was thinking over what he said. It made him feel even more self-conscious. She was probably wondering what kind of a strange looser he must be. He sighed and shifted the groceries in his arms. He felt like her unseeing eyes were, in some bizarre way, seeing straight through him.

"Very well then," the woman finally spoke, "My apartment building is right over here, so you won't have to walk far anyway." With this bitter explanation the woman flipped her hair back and began marching towards the nearest building. Heero followed her silently.

* * *

He wasn't overly shocked to discover that the woman lived in the same building as he did. She lived two floors beneath his, in an apartment not much bigger than his own. Her flat contained a bedroom in addition to the living room, and it also had a bigger kitchen. It was dark and moldy like a rat hole. He was surprised to find that she lived in such poor conditions. He somehow assumed, with no good reason really, that the woman's place would be different. Brighter, well decorated and filled with some pleasant scent. It was not the case. Her apartment was as cold as his was, dark as his was and just as messy. He assumed that she simply didn't have the need to decorate the place. She couldn't see it anyway. Still, it could have been nice because... because of what? He had no idea. All he knew is that it bothered him greatly to see another human being living a hell similar to his.

"Are you going to come in or just stand there and stare?" The woman half said, half growled at him. "If you say you live in this building, you shouldn't be so surprised." She muttered, walking into the small apartment, her long braid swining from side to side as she walked.

Heero turned to look at her, his expression stunned. She seemed to read him so well even without seeing his reactions. Was it just a good guess? A bitter assumption? It can't be just a simple coincidence. Ah! Why was he thinking about it so hard?! He should just finish what he started and move on with his life.

He stayed long enough to help her place the groceries in place. The pantry's door creaked when he opened it. He wasn't stunned to find it mostly empty. There was only a half empty bag of rice and two can of some kind. The woman - he still didn't ask for her name - placed the rest of her shopping in the small refrigerator. Heero noted that the old fridge was in desperate need for cleaning, but he didn't say anything. It was none of his business.

When he was done, he merely stood there for a second, staring ahead. The woman was searching around with her hands until she found a small rusty kettle. She felt her way to the sink and filled it with water. Heero watched as she placed it on the stove and then began looking around for something else. A moment later and she still could not find it. Taking a deep breath, Heero walked over to the stove and reached for the small shelf above it. He picked up a small matchbox and handed it to the woman.

"Ma'am," he said to draw her attention, but she was already "looking" at him with those accusing eyes of hers. Heero swallowed and placed the matchbox in her hands. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, backing away from her. "I'll... I'll leave now." He added quietly, slowly turning around to exit the kitchen.

"Wait," she called after him when he was nearly at the door.

Heero stopped and turned around. He saw her standing at the kitchen doorway, staring in his general direction. Again he was reminded that she couldn't see him, which called for a verbal reply. He was speaking more than he had all week. Maybe even a month.

"Is something wrong?" He asked, trying to sound concerned though his voice was still a detached monotone. He hated it so much. He sounded as cold as he felt.

The woman's frown disappeared. "Well, I suppose I should at least thank you." She muttered as if she was displeased by the idea.

"There's no need to thank me, ma'am." Heero hurried to reply, shaking his head. "I've done nothing out of the ordinary."

The woman snorted. "Helping a total stranger is something out of the ordinary nowadays."

"I was just a nuisance and I have offended you. I apologize, and I don't want to be thanked for it." He turned back to the door.

"So, you're not going to tell me your name?" The woman called after him again, her tone stubborn and demanding.

Heero froze with his hand on the doorknob, bowing his head slowly. "You can call me Heero." He said quietly, opening the door. "Good night." He added warily and quickly slipped out of the apartment.

The woman continued standing at the kitchen doorway, gazing unseeingly at the direction of the door. There was a sad and disappointed look on her face as she slowly closed her eyes and turned back to the kitchen.

* * *

New Year's Eve of A.C 198 was even colder than the rest of the winter days. Rain was pouring hard over the city, washing the buildings and creating rivers instead of roads. Still, the streets were packed with people walking along the main entertainment districts of town. Neon signs glowed with a colorful aura, the streetlights surrounded by a glowing sphere of light created by the falling rain. Fog was crawling along the pavements, rolling down the streets like it was a living thing in itself.

The weather might have been gloomy, but the people's joy was overwhelmingly great and the city radiated the public's happiness. Sounds of cheers and music filled the damp streets. Cars passed by, splashing about as the sound of their horn played some silly melody. Once in a while a large van with huge speakers on its rooftop drove by, a few crazy teenagers standing on the roof or out its windows, dancing and calling out loudly. Even the security guards at the entrance of the clubs had to smile at the sight. These were the same 'teens' who fought bloody battles a year ago. There was more to celebrate besides the New Year. It was a celebration for peace, and the signs decorating the streets did not forget to remind people of that fact.

Wearing his shabby brown jacket and a pair of jeans that were already soaked with water, Heero walked down the streets. His hands were shoved into his pockets and his head was bowed as he kept watching the sidewalk. His wet bangs swung lazily back and forth, some plastered to his face. He passed by a gigantic sign that colorfully announced- 'One year of peace and still counting!'. A large digital clock accompanied the words, the bright red digits counting the minutes of peace. There was also a flattering picture of the ultimate representative of peace- Ms. Relena (Peacecraft) Darlian. Heero shivered and just kept walking.

He walked the streets at night, without any real direction. He passed slowly by shopping centers, theaters, parks and other entertainment areas, but didn't take the time to stop and have more than a glance. He was cold and shivering, his mood gloomier than ever. He had just greeted the new year in some shady bar, making a half-hearted toast for peace along with a drunk that sat by his side. After the real party started and people began to greet the New Year in their own ways, Heero just slipped out of his seat and left the bar.

He had no idea why he had gone out tonight. He rarely did. Only once in a long while he would go and have a drink somewhere, always alone, always brooding. Tonight was no different. He sat at the bar all by himself, isolated from the happiness around him. He sipped his beer slowly and then left when the couples on the dance floor began showing their affection in light of the New Year. It made him feel even lonelier.

With his hands shoved securely into his pockets, Heero walked down the different boulevards. He kept his gaze on the movement of his feet, his entire demeanor closed off and introvert. It was as if he wasn't part of the world around him, trapped inside an invisible glass bubble that followed him wherever he went. He saw people laughing, enjoying themselves, but none of their joy managed to brush onto him. Even the loud beat of music ascending from the different clubs and buildings fell on deaf ears. There was no sound or warmth coming into his bubble. What did manage to break in, he ignored.

He didn't feel like going home yet. His empty and cold apartment was something he was not ready to see yet. If anything, he should at least try to surround himself with human company tonight. New Year's Eve was the worst. The nightmares were even greater and he did everything in his power to stay away from bed. All he ever did at home was to sleep. He couldn't afford to go to sleep right now. He should at least wait till daybreak. In the daytime, the nightmares were easier to bear.

So after hours of walking, he decided to enter one of the nearby theaters. He bought a single ticket and entered a late-night movie. The theater was rather empty and only a few couples were making out in the back seats. He ignored them and focused his tired, blood-shot eyes on the screen. It took him too long to realize that it was only cheap porn, and when his cheeks were red enough, he left. Disheartened, he returned to the silent avenues of the large city.

It was past three in the morning and the streets were emptier than before. Still the clubs were flooding the streets with music and various people gathered in groups wherever he looked. In this part of town, among all the XXX theaters, stripper clubs and other questionable entertainment means, he could see many 'one-night' couples walking about. Creatures of the night who aimed to seduce and rob you of your money in exchange for a few hours of pleasure. Once in a while a car would stop in front of one of those creatures and the bargaining would begin. Some couples were already making their way to the nearest motel. Heero ignored them and decided to just call it a night. He made a mistake by even trying to go out.

Walking with his eyes 'glued' to the ground, Heero didn't even notice it until he bumped into someone. Sighing, he looked up and mumbled an apology.

"'s alright." A female voice with a heavy Southern accent answered in mild amusement. "Had too much ta drink, have ya?"

Frowning, Heero looked up. He ran his bored blue eyes up and down her skinny figure, examining everything- from her high-heeled boots, the black-netted pantyhose, the short leather skirt, and the white fur coat that barely reached her slim waist. Her face was painted with a lot of makeup, making her look like some doll out of a Stephen King horror flick. All in all, he was not impressed but she didn't seem to notice for she sent him a seductive smirk and changed into a more 'inviting' pose.

"Like what you see?" She droned seductively, batting her eyelashes.

Heero didn't answer, his eyes suddenly taking note of the long black hair that cascaded from her head and down to her knees. It was probably the only thing about her that was somewhat attractive. He turned his gaze up again, but his mouth remained shut.

The hooker smiled sweetly. "It's a shame to see a pretty thing like you walk alone on a night like this... Care for some company?" She said, taking a few slow and graceful steps towards him. When she saw that he was not backing away, his eyes fixed somewhere between her ass and he knees, she smiled and wrapped an arm around his. She leaned to whisper in his ear, "I can make you feel real good for a really good price."

Heero swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. He could feel her press her body to his, hip to hip, side to side. The warmth coming out of her was almost intoxicating. His mind was already a bit fuzzy from drinking, and the heat at his side was only making it worse. After all, he was always so cold...

"How... much?" He asked, his voice shaky.

The prostitute smirked and leaned her head on his shoulder. With one arm still wrapped around his own arm, she reached a second hand to run gentle fingers up and down his thigh. "We can discuss this on the way." She whispered in a low and sexy voice, her fingers trailing slowly up and down, brushing close to his crotch and then again. She smiled as she felt a shiver run through him, his knees almost giving way. This boy was going to be fun, she decided and began walking forward. She had to pull him with her the first few steps, but then he began walking on his own. She practically melted against his body, smearing herself on him as she led him to the nearest motel.

* * *

He had no idea what he was doing. This was probably just one big mistake. He shouldn't have come here. He shouldn't have been so easily convinced. But... but the need for company was too great. The urge to feel, to live, to be wrapped in warmth, suppressed all logic. He wanted this. Yes. He... he did. He wanted this. Didn't he?

Taking a deep, shaky, breath, Heero slowly looked up from the floor. He took a moment to scan the small room. There was nothing there but a lumpy old bed, a small window with dusty drapes, a tiny dresser and a bottle of whisky lying on it. The room was dark, and the only source of light was the red and green of the motel's neon sign outside the window. It cast an eerie aura on everything, reminding Heero of some hellish dream or a twisted reality. The bed was lighted with red, and the room smelled badly. Like cheap sex and liquor. Looking down at his hands, he could see that he was painted with green. His hands were sweaty and suddenly the room was too hot. He didn't want to be here.

"Make yourself comfortable." The hooker spoke softly, still facing the door as she shed her fur coat and slipped out of her boots. She turned around from the door and looked at the young man standing in the middle of the small room. Despite the fact that he was still wearing his wet and shabby jacket, she could see how stiff and tense he was. His expression was somewhat lost and confused. She almost pitied him.

Sighing silently, she forced a smile and approached him slowly. "Would you like me to turn the light on?" She asked, just to get things going.

The young man was still staring down at his hands as he silently mumbled, "No..."

The woman nodded. "All right." She said and stood before him. She reached a white and slender hand to his chin and carefully raised his head up to look at her. She pinned him with her sharp gaze, taking a moment to assess what she was dealing with. She smiled sweetly when she realized that his boy was younger than her. Just a lost and confused little boy.

She scanned his thin figure up and down, focusing briefly on his groin before looking up into his nervous eyes. "First time, huh?" She concluded with a smirk, which made Heero even more uncomfortable. Without even noticing, he took a small step back.

"N-no. It's... not." He mumbled, his nervous blue eyes shifting restlessly from one spot to another, as if sensing danger. He was feeling like the room was closing in on him, the walls and the ceiling crushing him down. He wanted to get out of there, to flee into safety, but he refused to move. He will not give up so easily. He reminded himself that he was the one in control of the situation, not the other way around. He was the one to choose this. He was the more powerful one, the dominant one. Not the other way around. He was in control. No harm would come to him this time. He was in full. Control.

Then why did his legs feel weak? Why was he trembling under his jacket? Why was every nerve in his body screaming at him to flee? What was wrong? He wanted this. He did. He needed this, desired it. He wanted to drown himself in something intoxicating and wild. Something that will give him warmth, envelope him with pleasure. The company of a fellow human being... such close intimacy... he longed for it. He wanted it. He was going to control it! Not the other way around!

"Have you ever been with a woman then?" The hooker asked again, her voice sweeter and less accusing than before.

The boy did not answer. He did lower his gaze though, and that was enough of an answer. She sighed quietly; her hands beginning to slowly travel over her own body. She began performing a little striptease for him, moving her body in a slowly and seductive dance. It took the young man a while to notice, and when he finally raised his head up he was transfixed. The prostitute smirked and began stripping and teasing him more boldly. Soon enough she was standing only in her lacework panties, looking at him with a lustful gaze.

Heero swallowed and fidgeted in his spot. He wanted this. He did. He... he did.

She was annoyed by his impassiveness, but she was too much of an expert to let it show. Instead, she took his sweaty hand in hers, and gently guided it towards her body. She spread his palm and let it lie on her breasts. She flinched at how cold he was and her skin covered with Goosebumps. She could feel his nervous eyes on her, watching his hand on her skin like it was a dream of some sort.

"It's your turn." She whispered, leaning forward and reaching her hands to his jacket. She slowly peeled it off him, letting it slide down his shoulders and to the floor. He barely responded when she slipped her experienced hands under his shirt. She smirked happily when her fingers encountered his muscled flesh. If nothing else, at least this boy had the proper body.

Heero closed his eyes tight, trying to resist the urge to yank the hooker's hands off of him. He bit his lower lip when she began teasing his nipples, his heart beating faster, not with lust but with fear. The mantra began again, swirling in his head. He had chosen this; he was in control of this. He was the dominant one. The stronger one. The one who's in control.

However, no matter how many times he repeated the mantra in his head, he still couldn't relax enough and let himself enjoy this. His body did not respond to her teasing. The fear was too great, the painful past overwhelming him.

When she finally shoved her hands down his pants, Heero flinched and pulled back.

Annoyed, the hooker rolled her eyes and sighed. "What is the matter with you?!" She demanded in her heavy accent.

"I'm... I'm sorry." He mumbled, his cheeks burning with shame. He couldn't even get himself up for her. His heart was beating too fast. It hurt. "I'm... It's just... it's... it's h-hard for me t-to..." He stammered, blushing furiously and keeping his gaze on the floor. He wanted to get out of there so badly!

"Oh." She let out, and then suddenly smirked. "I see..." She continued, her voice taking a seductive tone again. "It's nothing I can't help you with..." She assured him, taking a few steps forward and closing the distance between them. In a second, her hand was gripping his balls tightly, rubbing them through the fabric of his pants.

Heero jumped up and yelped, his breath caught in his throat. He sagged against her as she began massaging him with her long fingers. His breath was coming in short and irregular gasps, a few choked whimpers tearing out of his throat. He closed his eyes tighlty, tears lingering to his long eyelashes. A warm feeling spread through him and caressed his every nerve. It felt so good... His body responded quickly, his erection growing and pulsing in his pants. The movement of her fingers became bolder, stronger and demanding. She reached for his hardening sex and gave it a good squeeze.

Heero gasped and his body tensed as if he was hit by lightning.

"N-no..." the word slipped out of his lips before he even thought of protesting. He was losing his control. He was not in control at all! It was just like... just like all those other times...

The feeling of unease grew with each of her strokes and the pleasure was quickly fading. The hand down his pants was making him very uncomfortable. He pulled away from her, panting.

"...stop." He asked, taking a few steps back, his whole body trembling with the aftermath of their actions. He was still hard, but his erection was slowly dying.

Anger flashed on the hooker's face. She eyed him in annoyance. "Fine." She spat, throwing herself down on the bed and flipping her long hair back. "What's the matter boy, girls don't do it fer ya?" She teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe all you really need is a good fuck in the ass. I know someone who can help you." She smiled teasingly, mockingly, looking at him with a pair of disdainful eyes.

Fucked? Oh, he's already been fucked well enough. Fucked up by life, fucked by J, by drunken OZ soldiers... he had enough of being fucked. He just wanted... he just wanted someone to hold him... Someone to chase the cold away. To make the loneliness disappear.

"Can't we just... just... talk?" He mumbled uncertainly, looking up at her with shimmering blue eyes.

"Talk?" She let out, surprised. "You just want to talk?"

Heero nodded.

The hooker sighed. "Fine." She muttered, rolling her eyes. "It's your money." She tapped on the bed, gesturing him to come and sit by her side.

His legs were still trembling as he walked over to the bed and carefully sat down beside her. He moved away from her, so that their bodies won't touch. His body was stiff and rigid. He was nervous and uncomfortable. For a long while he just sat there with his hands on his knees and his gaze at the floor. His eyes glazed over as he just kept staring at the tip of his shoes, thinking about nothing. Somewhere in the back of his mind his own screams echoed from within a dark OZ prison cell, his voice, hoarse and pitiful, begging someone to stop.

"Stop! Stop it! Please! Please stop..."

Heero shivered and closed his eyes. The screams slowly faded.

"Maybe you should go." The woman suggested with an impatient voice. She sighed and leaned back on the bed, pushing her long hair back. "You're just wasting yer doe and I got more cooperative customers waiting for me on the streets."

Heero sighed heavily, slowly opening his eyes. Without a word, he got up, pushing his body off the bed with great effort. He didn't look back at her as he walked to the door, stopping just to pick his jacket from the floor. It was still wet and he felt so terribly cold as he slipped into it. Mumbling a small "thank you", he walked out of the room, leaving a fifty-dollar bill behind him.

* * *

It was half past five in the morning when Heero finally arrived to his apartment building. Dawn was breaking outside the dark lobby, washing the wet streets with a faint white glow. The elevator was malfunctioning again, so he had to take the stairs. When he finally arrived to his apartment, exhausted in every way possible, Heero collapsed on his sofa/bed and slipped into a dark oblivion.

He awakened ten hours later by the feeling of hunger. His stomach growled furiously, and it felt like the sound of it was echoing inside the famished organ. The feeling of nausea and emptiness reminded him that he hadn't eaten in nearly three days. He moaned in displeasure, not ready to wake up yet. This new year had nothing to offer him; he just wanted to stay in bed forever. He nestled himself deeper into the warm covers, pulling the blanket over his head to hide from the light coming from the window.

His stomach growled again, almost painfully. He was so terribly hungry. Opening one eye, Heero peeked ahead from behind messy bangs. He pulled the blanket down a bit so he will have a good view of the kitchen. The refrigerator was standing there silently, heavy, bulky and indifferent to anything around it. His whole apartment looked like it didn't care for him at all. Sometimes he felt like it didn't want him there. Even inanimateobjects disliked him.

The heck with them, Heero decided and hurried to hide under the blanket again. It's not like the stupid fridge had anything to offer him. It's probably empty anyway. He tried to ignore the throbbing pain in his empty stomach and go back to sleep. After about half an hour he found that sleep had deserted him and there was no gaining it back. Sighing, he sat up and slowly got out of bed. Picking up a discarded towel from the floor, Heero flipped it over his shoulder and headed to the bathroom. His blue eyes gleamed with bitterness and sarcasm.

So this is AC 198...

* * *

He allowed himself a long shower and then quickly slipped into the cleanest looking clothes he had lying around. He rummaged through every pocket he had for a few ragged bills until he had enough to buy himself something small to eat. Running a hand through his unruly, uncombed, hair, he stepped out of the apartment and headed down the stairs.

When he made his way down, walking across one of the floors bellow his, he was surprised to see that woman, his blind neighbor, crouching on the floor in front of her apartment door. His eyes were drawn to her long brown hair, which fell smoothly over her back, glowing under the dim light washing the hallway. By the way she was feeling around with her hands he could tell that she was searching for something.

He stopped for a moment, standing by the stairs. He could easily continue his journey down and ignore her, but for some reason he felt that he shouldn't. She might not be the nicest of people one could offer help to, but he couldn't just leave her. Sighing to himself, Heero marched towards her, his footsteps silent against the cheap carpet that decorated the hallway. Despite his silent approach, the woman turned to 'look' up at him when he was about to reach her.

"Who is it?" She asked, her voice distrustful. There was a scowl on her face as she moved her head slightly from side to side, as if searching for someone.

"It's me again. Heero." He answered, his voice coming out callous and numb, even to his own ears. "I helped you a few days ago."

"Yeah, I remember." She muttered, lowering her head again as if looking at the floor. She sighed in annoyance. "Will it be too much to ask for your assistance once again?"

Heero shook his head, and there was a brief silence until he realized that he should offer a verbal reply. "Not at all, ma'am."

"Nora." The woman mumbled, head still bowed. She was still kneeling on the floor, so her voice came out a bit muffled.

"Pardon?" Heero asked innocently, kneeling down by her side.

The woman sighed in annoyance. "My name is Nora, so stop calling me 'ma'am' all the time. It makes me feel so damn old!"

"I'm sorry." Heero apologized earnestly. "I didn't know your name."

"Well, obviously!" She growled, waving her hands in the air. Heero couldn't help but feel like he was just bothering her again, instead of helping as he intended to do.

"I lost my key." Nora suddenly said, her voice silent as if she was actually ashamed of asking for his help. "I've searched for what feels like hours, but I can't seem to find it." She explained with a heavy sigh, her hands feeling around as if to prove her point.

Heero nodded in understanding, his eyes already scanning the scene in search for the lost key. It didn't take him long to spot it lying inside a small crack between the wooden floor and the wall, partly tucked beneath the carpet. It was rather hard to find by feeling around, and the only reason he had spotted it was because the tip of the metal key caught some of the light pouring from the hallway window and sort of "twinkled" at him. He reached two slender fingers to carefully retrieve the fallen key. He handed it to the woman.

"Here you go." He said, nudging the key close to her hand until it poked her a little. She quickly turned her palm around and took it from him.

"Thank you." She mumbled, getting up. Heero followed suit, standing in front of her while trying to think of a way to say goodbye. He was stunned to see her smile at him all of a sudden. It was a small and bitter smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"You saved me again." She stated in mild amusement, her blind blue eyes looking at his general direction.

"It was nothing." He assured her. The silence returned and the atmosphere seemed heavy all of a sudden. His stomach was still demanding to be fed, calling out angrily for his attention.

"Are you hungry?" Nora suddenly asked, and Heero's cheeks reddened a little. Was it possible that she had heard him?

"Uh, I was just on my way to the store." He mumbled in a useless attempt to sound less embarrassed than he was.

The woman nodded slowly, looking thoughtful all of a sudden. The silence returned between them, until Heero decided that it was time to leave. He was just taking a first step backwards, when Nora spoke again.

"Heero," she began rather silently, just gaining his attention.

"Yes?" He asked, turning back to face her. He didn't know why, but all of a sudden a small bud of hope was blossoming inside him. He hated hope. It only made the pain worse when it was crushed along with all other feelings he had managed to salvage.

"Well, it might sound a bit strange, but..." She continued sheepishly, shifting her weight from side to side. She flipped her long hair back in a nervous gesture.

"What is it?" He urged her, his stomach growling again as a wave of dizziness and nausea coursing through him. He should really get some food into his system.

"Well, you see, I've prepared an osechi last night, and I seem to have made too much, so..."

"Osechi?" Heero cut in, raising an eyebrow.

A sheepish smile appeared on her lips. She nodded. "Yes. It's Japanese. It's a customary meal for the New Year."

Now he was frowning, quite confused. "Japanese? H-how did you know I was Japanese?"

Nora seemed stunned, her expression confused. In less than a second, she was smiling again and shrugging casually. "Ah well, I mean, I heard it. In, in your voice. You have a slight accent." She let out in a rush of words, turning her head aside for a moment.

"I do?" He wonered out loud.

"Don't worry, it's hardly noticeable." She hurried to assure him, only now turning back to face him. "It's just that I have a very acute sense of hearing. And, uh, your name, of course!"

"Oh." He let out, still confused. The silence returned for a few moments more, until Nora spoke again. She took a step towards him, raising her eyes to his general direction.

"So... would you... would you like to join me?"

There was something almost desperate in her voice. A sort of a lonely plea he knew all too well. He could easily sympathize with it for it was the same pain running through his own veins.

"Um..." He stammered, still thinking if he should. He didn't know what to make of this invitation. One minute this woman was bitter and distrustful and a moment later she invites him in for a meal? And a Japanese meal nonetheless! What was going on here?

"It's just a token of gratitude." The woman assured him, her voice slightly shaking for some reason. "I'm sure you don't want to spend the first day of the New Year with a grumpy old lady, but..." Her voice trailed off and she sighed. He could see her shoulders slump and she slowly turned to the door. "Oh well, it was just a thought..." She mumbled, trying to get the key into the lock.

Taking a deep breath, Heero allowed himself a small smile - it's not like anyone could see it - and nodded his head. "Sure," he said, walking to the door as well. "'I'd love to."

Nora nodded in acknowledgment, hiding her own smile for she had heard the smile in Heero's voice. His tone was lighter when he smiled. She decided that it suited him better to smile, and quickly opened the door for him.

"Please, come in."

* * *

He fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat as he watched Nora wander around the kitchen while warming up the small meal. He felt nervous for some reason, out of place. He was silent as he watched her arrange the table, feeling like he should help her out but not having the nerve to offer. He was afraid to disgrace her. The only sound in the kitchen was the clacking of the silverware against the table as Nora carefully lay it down. Heero wondered if he should say anything, but nothing came up. The atmosphere was heavy for some reason. He wished badly that it wasn't so.

Looking down at the knife and fork lying in front of him, he finally thought about something to say. He looked up in her direction where she was standing by the stove and making some tea.

"Isn't it customary to eat it with chopsticks?" He asked, his voice coming off as too loud in the silent kitchen. He swore that he could see her flinch, like she was unused to hear someone else's voice.

She chuckled bitterly, picking up a kettle and carefully pouring water into a couple of mugs. "Have you ever tried eating anything with chopsticks while blindfolded?"

Realizing his foolish mistake, Heero bowed his head and berated himself for his foolishness. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, deciding it will be better to keep his mouth shut for he obviously had nothing useful to say.

"It's all right." She assured him, walking over to the small kitchen table with two steaming mugs in her hands. "I sometimes forget I'm blind as well. I keep expecting to see the light when I wake up each morning."

Heero swallowed, debating whether or not to ask the obvious question. His curiosity and the need to break the silence won over his sheepishness. "Were you..."

"Always blind?" Nora interjected, her voice lighter than he expected it to be. "No." She let out with a sigh, shaking her head. "Not always."

Heero nodded and bowed his head again. Nora served the meal to the table. For a long while they ate in silence. Heero was picking at his food at first, until his hunger grew by tenfold after a few small bites and he quickly devoured his meal. He could have sworn he heard her chuckle silently, so he began eating more slowly, trying to be as polite as his hunger allowed him.

"So..." Nora began, brushing a few chunks of long hair out of her eyes and over her shoulders. "How old are you, Heero?"

Heero looked up, his features stunned for a moment, frozen in mid-bite. He hurried to swallow and since he didn't respond verbally, the woman continued.

"Wait, let me guess." she said, "You sound young... but you're not a teenager, right?" Heero looked up, surprised, but still provided no answer. The woman continued. "No offence, but it's just that you sound too mature to be an adolescent. I'd say you're about... twenty?"

Heero cast his gaze down and reached for his tea. "Close." He whispered, taking a small sip. "I'm going to be eighteen this year."

"Oh." She let out, frowning. "And you live alone?"

"Yes." He replied in a quiet, solemn voice. He wrapped his palm around the warm mug, trying to force some heat into his body. Staring at his drink, he took a shaky breath and spoke. "I live two floors above yours."

The woman nodded in understanding. "I see." She whispered, bowing her head and staring at her drink with unseeing eyes. The silence carried on. Both of the table's occupants just sat with their shoulders slumped and their heads bowed. There wasn't even a clock to tick and break the silence. It was as if each of them was alone, surrounded by soundproof walls. They continued eating is silence. When Heero finished his meal, still hungry but not saying anything about it, he returned to slowly drinking his tea while trying to think of something else to say. This was the first real conversation he had in almost a year. The few words that passed between them awakened his need for conversation even more. He suddenly realized that he was unused to the sound of his own voice.

"Anou," he began and then quickly stopped himself. Nora turned her blind gaze at him and he swallowed nervously. "M-may I ask why you've prepared a Japanese meal? I, I don't know much about the New Year, but is it... is it a normal thing to do?"

The woman sighed, sipping her tea before answering. "It's a tradition, I guess. Old habits die hard."

Heero frowned. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."

Nora turned back to him with a smile. "Never mind. Did you like it?"

He nodded, and then after a while: "Uh, yes. Ari-uh-thank you." Why was he stammering like an idiot?! What a way to impress a person! Then again, why did he have to impress anyone? Nora didn't seem to mind. In fact, her smile only grew.

"I'm glad. Would you like some more? For some absurd reason I made enough for three people at least..." She didn't even wait for an answer and already got up, taking his plate with her. The silence returned when they both continued to eat, but for some reason, it was a much more pleasant silence. Half an hour later, Heero wasn't so embarrassed about asking for more. Nora complied with a small smile, the bitterness in her voice also fading as she coaxed a nice and quiet conversation out of him.

* * *

Weeks coated with silence crawled by after his brief staying at Nora's. Days spent with bitterness and cold slowly passed by him, engulfing him with more numbing loneliness. His apartment seemed chillier after he had spent a few hours with some company. The little time he had spent with Nora awakened something in him, something that the cold and loneliness had managed to numb to the point of none-existence. His need for socializing, for being near someone, for hearing someone laugh. The frozen need was brushed with a bit of warmth, melting the ice that gathered at the edges. His loneliness only grew after being eased for a short, brief, while.

Seeking more of this warmth that had eased the chill in his heart, Heero headed out to the streets. Instead of going straight to bed after work, he showered, changed out of his uniforms and went out. He walked into the first pub he stumbled upon, making his way straight to the bar. He quickly shrugged off his battered brown jacket, remaining in a white dress shirt that clung to his muscled torso and a pair of black slacks that hugged his lower body perfectly. It was probably the only thing he owned that wasn't a ragged pair of jeans or a T-shirt. He wasn't even sure why he owned this particular attire, or when he had bought it, but he really didn't care.

His hair was damp from the rain, some wild bangs clinging to his forehead. He brushed them aside and gestured to the bartender. Ordering himself a drink, he leaned on the counter and just... waited. He wasn't completely sure why he was doing this to himself. The words the hooker had spat his way a few weeks ago still echoed in his head.

'What's the matter, boy, girls don't do it fer ya?'

Heero closed his eyes and took a long sip from his drink.

'Maybe all you really need is a good fuck in the ass.'

Maybe. Maybe not. He didn't know. He just knew that he wanted someone to be with him. Be it male or female, he just wanted to be... he just wanted to be held. Was it too much to ask for?

Sighing, he finished his drink with a long gulp and quickly asked for more.

"Got anything stronger?" He asked the bartender, who was eyeing him suspiciously. The boy seemed too young, though it was a little hard to tell. His features were too harsh and his eyes too hard to be young, but his pretty face was as boyish as can be. The sign above the bar declared that underage drinking was not allowed. The bartender ran his eyes over the boy once again.

"Got some I.D?" He asked roughly and Heero let out a bitter chuckle. He wasn't drunk yet, barely even tipsy, but he was lightheaded enough to snort/giggle at the question. The only "I.D" he could claim to have is a silly nametag on his ridicules uniforms at a miserable old diner. And even the name written on that tag was not his real name. So, when it came down to it, he simply didn't have an identity, so how could he POSSIBLY be carrying any I.D?! It was ludicrous!

Chuckling bitterly, Heero thrust his bangs out of his eyes and raised his head to look up at the bartender. "Just give me more, all right?" He muttered, throwing a twenty-dollar bill at the counter. "And keep them coming."

Shrugging, the bartender hurried to comply.

It was only after three more glasses of strong liquor that Heero began noticing that people were staring at him. He could feel the burning acid feeling of someone's eyes on his back, and a few other glances from both left and right. Suddenly feeling very self-conscious, Heero wiggled a little in his seat and brushed his bangs back carefully. He lifted his drink slowly; his head bowed as he drank though his eyes were looking aside, scanning the room. He could see three young women at one corner of the bar, sending glances his way and then speaking among themselves. Looking the other way, he spotted two other girls who were looking at him and then arguing about something. He gulped his drink quickly and then slammed it on the counter.

"Refill." He slurred, thrusting his head aside in order to push his bangs out of his eyes. The world swirled around him a little, and the little sexy gesture did not go unnoticed by his surrounding.

Soon enough, the first female approached him. She eyed him like a piece of meat and then began making some sort of a useless conversation. He hated the way she kept looking down at his crotch or his ass instead of looking him in the eye. He kept mostly quiet when she spoke to him, only answering her with short and curt replies. She lost interest pretty quickly and left. He was still debating whether he'd pushed her away on purpose or was it simply because his poor people skills, when another one approached him.

She was rather sweet, and a bit uncertain, but she kept invading his personal space. She made him uncomfortable and even when he tried to speak with her, he couldn't find what to say. He found himself lost and confused, just staring at her while she waited for him to speak. This girl also backed away fairly quickly, and he just scowled at himself and ordered another drink.

The third left when she found out that he was three years younger than her and the forth left when he growled at her angrily. The fifth was confident, so he simply ignored her and by the time the sixth approached him Heero was ready to bolt and leave. None of them sparked even the tiniest bit of interest in him. Some were very attractive, he supposed, but none made him feel like it was worth it. Maybe he was wrong by coming here. He should just finish his drink and leave. He was a fool for even trying.

When he finished his last drink for the night, Heero swerved slightly from side to side in an attempt to get up. He was seeing everything in fuzzy slow motion, everything a blur before it stabled and stood still. He chuckled shortly at his own expense, trying to get off his stool without falling.

"Leaving so soon?" A voice interrupted his efforts to stand straight, and he blinked drunkenly, looking up with a pair of glazed blue eyes.

"Huh?" He let out, his voice sluggish. He looked up, his vision coming in and out of focus, but he did manage to catch a blurry look at the large figure blocking his way. The figure was tall and broad, dressed in stylish black clothing, though it just looked like a big black blob to Heero. A blob that was making it quite difficult for him to leave!

"Outoftheway..." He managed to somehow mumble, pushing the bulky figure aside in a half hearted, drunken, attempt. His strength was not in any way close to have any real affect on the steady figure, and Heero frowned in displeasure. He turned his head up to look at the figure's face, trying to look angry despite the fact that he was too dizzy to focus his eyes on anything.

"Move." He ordered, his voice steadier than before, more urgent. He felt like there was fire flowing through his veins. He really needed to take a piss.

The figure chuckled in amusement and the part of Heero's mind that wasn't too drunk, supplied him with the information that it was a man's voice.

"I'm sorry." The man said, his voice smooth and confident. "I was just a little disappointed that you decided to leave so soon." He explained, laying a hand on Heero's shoulder. The boy tensed under the warm touch, but still he let the heavy palm gently push him back to his seat. He slumped down on the stool, nearly falling. The man quickly caught him and helped him straighten up, laughing pleasantly at Heero's baffled look. He had a nice voice, Heero decided. It was warm and bittersweet. Like honey. He smiled and looked up at the man.

"I ran out of money." He said, his voice a bit slurred but more or less coherent. He leaned one elbow on the bar and rested his head on is heavily. He looked up at the man, batting his eyelashes lazily. "Care to buy me some more?"

The man chuckled again and took a seat next to the boy. "I think you had enough to drink for one night." He said, his eyes - their color was dark but Heero was too drunk to decide their exact shade - looking down at him warmly.

"Oh?" Heero replied with a smirk, straightening in his seat. "So you've been watching me?"

The man smiled in amusement, his eyes watching the boy intently. "You're hard to miss. And I've noticed that a pretty angel like yourself has no problem attracting any of the female kind, but I get the feeling that it isn't exactly what you want." He finished by placing his large, warm, hand on Heero's thigh, looking deeply into the boy's eyes as he leaned closer to whisper in his ear. "Am I right?"

Heero shivered at the small touch of air in his ear. He could feel the heat emitting from the man - he was so close... - and it intoxicated him even further.

"They didn't make me feel warm." He found himself saying; unaware that he was barely making any sense. The hand on his thigh was slowly caressing him. His body was immediately flooded with heat. He jumped up in his seat as the man's hand brushed close to his groin. The man was whispering in his ear again.

"And does this make you feel any..." He used one finger to trace Heero's hardening arousal. "Warmer?"

The heat grew like a burst of flames. He was practically melting in his chair, purring against the man's touch.

The man smirked and leaned closer to gently nip at his ear. Heero let out a quiet whimper.

"Your place or mine?" The man whispered in a low and sexy voice, making Heero shiver.

He swallowed despite the fact that his mouth was dry and shakily whispered back: "...which one is closer..?"

* * *

The minute they walked into Heero's apartment the man had Heero pinned against the door and kissing him passionately. Heero melted under his kiss, sagging against the door when his legs gave way. The man's hands were everywhere on him, sliding under his shirt and caressing every part of him. He had such big, warm, callous hands... He had Heero moaning and squirming under him, the boy's body quivering with need and pleasure. The man's leg slowly nudged its way between Heero's thighs, carefully parting them and sliding perfectly between his legs. Heero moaned loudly into the man's mouth, letting the man's tongue caress every part of his mouth as they kissed. He began grounding himself against the man's thigh, rubbing his growing arousal against the rough fabric of the man's pants. His hands were also coming to life, the desire coursing through his body guiding them up the man's body, and down again. He ran his trembling hands - the kiss was so intense it had him shaking - over the man's broad torso, gliding under his buttoned shirt and feeling his flesh.

When they parted for air, both out of breath and panting, the man was still leaning heavily over Heero's smaller body, looking down at him with lustful eyes.

"Is this your first time?" He asked, panting. He bent down to nibble the boy's ear.

His legs shaking, his heart pounding and every part of him becoming warm goo, Heero leaned his head against the man's shoulder. He closed his eyes and took a shaky breath, a shiver running through him.

"No..." He whispered sadly, opening a pair of forlorn blue eyes and gazing ahead. The man's tongue licked his ear and he let out a small whimper, nearly collapsing to the floor.

"It... it's not..." He continued quietly, shamefully, the dark images of his past and the pleasurable ministrations of the present making his head whirl. "T-there were... there were others... before..." He tried to explain, thrusting his head back and crying out as the man began sucking and licking his neck.

"Good." The man whispered against his slick neck, blowing air over the wet saliva that coated the boy's throat. "I'd like this to be special for you..." He breathed into the boy's neck, licking a wet trail from his shoulder to his ear.

"M-me too... " Heero stuttered, his body shivering as an acid fire of lust coursed through his veins and burned him from within. He gave up on attempting to explain his shameful past. He couldn't bring himself to say it. He just hoped that this man would not prove to be like his previous experiences, which were painful beyond belief. As a matter of fact, he found that he didn't really care how much it would hurt. He needed to feel, and he needed this kind of an intense and brutal experience to awaken some feeling in him.

With that resolve Heero wrapped his arms around the larger man and pushed himself up to his tiptoes to meet the man in another mind-blowing kiss. His body was burning, he felt like it was too hot to breathe. And he loved every minute of it.

A few minutes later found Heero lying on his sofa/bed, his legs thrown up in a 90-degree angle as the man slammed himself into him. His cock jerked up and down as the man drove into him violently, slamming him into the back of the sofa. The bed rocked from side to side, nearly tipping over from the force of their movements. The man grabbed his hips forcefully and drove even deeper into him. Heero's back curled so that his kneecaps were nearly colliding with his chest, moving back and forth in rhythm of the man's thrusts. His ass rose high in the air, granting the man deep access into his body. He could almost lick his own cock as his hips were pushed closer and closer towards his chest. This had him moaning even louder, the sight so terribly arousing. He moaned and groaned like a whore, enjoying himself beyond belief. The experience was SO intense that Heero found himself whimpering with pleasure.

His erection bounced up and down as the man continued ramming him into the sofa, the man's big hands traveling all over his body. Heero cried out loudly as he reached down and grabbed his painfully hard erection. He began pumping it in time with the man's thrusts, groaning in pleasure as he squeezed his shaft hard and painful. He enjoyed the forceful treatment. Enjoyed hearing the man's grunts and panting as he drove deeper and deeper into him. His prostate was hit every single time, causing him to scream in pleasure. He begged for more. He begged it to be deeper, harder, fiercer. He was enjoying it so much he began crying. Tears streamed down his cheeks and still he begged for more. The feeling was just too intense, the pleasure too great. It was just cheap, hard and painful sex; fast and furious but it had him weeping and moaning at the same time.

The experience was so releasing that it only made it more intense for him. He took pleasure from it despite the obvious fact that it was just a quick, ruthless, fuck. Despite that there was no love in it. He took all he could get. Years of pent up tension and frustrations finally found release. He wasn't surprised that he was crying. He didn't even try to stop it. He wanted this release, needed the relief he felt course through him as he exploded with a scream. He came violently, his body convulsing on the bed and his hips rising even higher to meet the man's thrusts. Hot sperm shot out of his cock and sprayed his face. After the man climaxed as well, he bent down to lick Heero's semen of his tearful face. Soon he began driving into him again. They went at it again and when Heero came a second time, he actually blacked out.

* * *

He awoke a while later, when the first rays of dawn were breaking outside his window. His eyes still closed, Heero slid a hand over the sheets, searching for the warmth that was there but a few moments ago. The sheets were still warm, but the body that had been lying next to him while he slept was gone. Panicked, Heero snapped his eyes open and looked up.

The man was sitting at the edge of the sofa/bed, just finishing putting his shirt on.

Heero blinked, confused, and slowly rose up.

"Are you... are you leaving?" He asked, his voice small and careful.

"Yeah." The man breathed, buttoning his shirt. "It's late and I should get going."

"Stay a little longer." Heero asked, nudging himself closer to the man and trying to push him back to the bed. "Lie with me a little." He whispered, his hand gently holding the man's shirt. He wanted to curl beside him a little... just snuggle for a little while... to feel warm again...

"Hold me?" He asked, his voice timid and small. It was barely heard, even in the silence of the room.

The man sighed, throwing his legs down to the floor. He bent down to pick his shoes. "Sorry, kid. It's been sweet, but I gotta go." He said casually, putting on one shoe and getting ready to put the other. "You're a real doll, but I gotta wife n' a kid waiting for me to come home."

Heero's eyes widened and he quickly pulled back. "I... I... I didn't think you'd be..."

"Married?" The man chuckled, shaking his head as he got up. "You got a lot to learn, kid." He said, tucking his shirt into his pants.

"But..." Heero let out, having nothing to say. His eyes stung a little, stubborn tears insisting on coming out. They shouldn't. What did they expect? A 'happily ever after' with this guy? He didn't even know his name!

Tired and dejected, Heero threw himself back onto his pillow. The room was cold again.

"I don't know what you were expecting, kid, but..." the man mumbled with a sigh, reaching a hand into his pocket. Looking at the place, in its poor and gloomy condition, the man pulled out something out of his pocket and turned back to face Heero. "It's not much, but here." He said, throwing a fifty-dollar bill onto the bed.

Heero's face hardened with anger and he turned to glare at the man. His blue eyes were fierce and blazing with rage. "I am not a whore!" He spat, kicking the bill away and throwing the pillow at the man's face. "Get out!" He growled, the stubborn tears burning his eyes again. "GET OUT!" he called again, his voice hoarse and nearly hysteric under the pain and humiliation he was feeling.

The man shrugged helplessly and shook his head. "Fine." He muttered, picking the money off the floor and shoving it back into his pocket. "See ya." He said, walking to the door and taking his jacket on the way. He was out the door in an instant and the tears held prisoner in Heero's eyes suddenly spilled without his permission.

He threw himself at his pillowless bed, shedding silent tears as he gazed ahead at nothing. He was cold again. His heat was gone... There was no one to hold him, no one to sooth the pain in his heart. This experience has proven to be even more excruciating than his previous ones, because this time... this time he had wanted it... Wanted it so badly that he didn't mind that there was no love between them. He thought that this man would at least... that he would at least hold him afterwards...

Feeling foolish and humiliated, Heero buried himself under the covers and continued to cry. He cried silently at first, until the sobs broke through the barrier around his heart. They came out like coughs at first, hoarse and bitter and so full of restrained pain. They gradually grew stronger and stronger, hesitant in their approach and then coming out with a violent force.

He cried brokenly into the sheets, his pain and heartbreak evident in every sob. There was no one there to comfort him so he only cried harder and harder. He cried until his throat hurt and his tears ran dry, but the pain didn't disappear. He had years of pain and suffering to cry out, and this one night stand, this cheap sexual experience, was enough to open the seal in his heart and let him cry. The release was indescribable, and yet so terribly painful. He held a clutched fist over his heart, imagining that he could feel it rip to two.

When he could cry no more he simply lay in his bed, feeling drained. Empty. Hollow. His indifferent apartment ignored him, watching him in an uncaring silence. His world just got a couple degrees colder, and outside, it began snowing.

Part 2

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