Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Ma Petite Mort ❯ Chapter 9

Ma Petite Mort / Naomi - part 9

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

With a sickening gurgle Heero threw himself over the toilet and vomited. Sounds of heavy gagging filled the small bathroom while Heero's head hung miserably over the toilet, his back shaking with effort. He coughed and retched for a good five minutes before his stomach settled down to a mild nausea. He sighed and pulled away, leaning his back against the toilet.

“I'm never drinking again...” He swore, not for the first time, and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

The apartment was dead silent. Heero sat, exhausted, and listened to the morning hush. Duo had left for work an hour earlier, leaving him to lie wretchedly on the sofa, pale and ill. No words were exchanged, however the silence had been less awkward, less tense than before.

Heero could not remember what happened after their conversation last night. He knew that he fell asleep and that he must have done so while Duo was by his side. There was a vague memory of warmth, but it could have been a dream. In any case, he felt that one of many barriers had been breached. His words managed to get through somehow. No conclusions were drawn - it was still too early for that - but at least he made his position clear. Duo did not seem to oppose it either.

A first step had been taken and the journey began. He needed to figure out his second step soon so that the efforts of the first would not go to waste. But before that he gulped and whirled back to the toilet, vomiting.

When the heaving stopped Heero let out a long, miserable groan. He rose shakily to his feet, wiping his mouth with a sleeve that was already soiled. A gush of water burst out of the faucet as Heero opened it and splashed cool water on his face. He looked up at the mirror, catching his reflection for the first time in days.

`You look like shit', was what Duo would say. Sadly, it was true.

His features were pale and dripping water if not sweat. It had been a week since he had last touched a razor and soft brown stubble covered his face in random places. He had only started shaving about six months ago and he was still unused to the routine. Combined with the messy brown mane on his head, the facial hair made him look even more unkempt.

A quiet, weary look shone dimly in his cobalt eyes, replacing the usual fiery-blue intensity. Added to that were the dark bags under his eyes, which made them appear to be sunk deeper into his skull.

Was this the person Duo saw when he looked at him? A tired, sloppy and confused teenage boy?

He was not confused. Not anymore. For once in his life he knew whom he was and what he wanted to do with himself. Tired as he may be, he was not as lost as before. He had free will and the freedom to follow it, if only Duo will let him.

He opened the bathroom cabinet in search for a new razor. Fortunately Duo had a stack of those and it comforted Heero to know that he was not the only one practicing the tedious habit. He smeared some shaving jell and shaved, then took a warm, long shower.

Only when he walked out of the shower stall, bathing in steam, Heero realized that he had no change of clothes. Anything he had owned - as meager as those belongings were - had been lost along with the United Interstellar shuttle. He had no choice but to borrow some of Duo's clothes, with hope that it will not harm the weak bond they had reformed.

With a towel wrapped securely around his waist, Heero walked to Duo's bedroom. He did not feel comfortable wandering naked in Duo's apartment, unlike at Adele's place. He respected Duo and his privacy; so much that he hesitated before entering Duo's room.

The room was relatively tidy, with a clean smell hovering in the air. The bed was unmade, though, and its sight raised a smile on Heero's lips. There was an empty mug on the nightstand, along with two comic books and a thick novel. One of the closet doors was open, displaying five sets of uniforms hanging on a rack. A few pairs of shoes were tossed in the corner of the room, next to the closet.

Heero walked into the room, pleased by what he saw. Deep down inside, Duo hadn't changed a bit.

Duo's scent engulfed him when he opened the closet's doors. It was a strong, sweet, distinctive scent that made his legs weak. The same thing had happened in the shower when he opened Duo's shampoo bottle. Never in his life did he give so much importance to smell, but there was something about Duo's scent that made him feel. Made his body ache to be drowned in the unique odor, to inhale it deeply, more desperately than oxygen for a drowned man.

It took real physical effort not to press one of Duo's shirts to his face and breathe it in. Even alone Heero could not allow himself to perform such an embarrassing act. He would never be able to look Duo in the eye if he did.

The closet consisted mainly of a black, white and blue wardrobe, with the occasional red and gray. Heero chose a simple pair of dark-blue denim trousers and a long sleeved black shirt. Colony temperature was a constant twenty-five degrees Celsius (77° Fahrenheit.), neither chilly nor warm, giving him the freedom to wear either winter or summer wear. Since his arms were still littered with bruises - both from the fight on the shuttle and the restraints in Preventer HQ - he preferred a long sleeved shirt. People would have fewer reasons to stare at him then.

For the first time in nearly five months - ever since the war ended - Heero stood in front of a mirror, well groomed and ready to face another day. He had even been so bold to try and brush his hair; an effort that proved useless despite his unruly locks being wet. He surveyed himself in the mirror - a new habit he decided would be harmless - before approving of his image. He no longer looked like lost little boy, as he had appeared when he first met Adele. Nor did he look like a horny teenager. He wasn't the soldier either, the one who glared uncaringly at the world.

No. He was all of those things, wrapped together in the body of a seventeen-year-old boy. Not the `Nobody' he had thought he should be. He was who he was, Heero Yuy, and that was that.

He gave his reflection and acknowledging nod before turning away from the mirror. He shoved the small change he had left from when he purchased the brandy bottle into his pocket and walked out of Duo's apartment.

 

L2-V08744 was not as deprived as he had first thought. It was old, but beautiful in a way. There was an air of mystery around it, hovering over ramshackle buildings and decaying roads. The cars were old and noisy as they drove past him. Some people walked wearily down the streets while others paced determinedly towards their destination. Heero took his time, walking leisurely as he watched his surrounding.

He could not afford to take the bus for he used his money at the convenience store before leaving Duo's neighborhood. The grocery bag swung back and forth in his hand, rattling as he walked.

Exercise would do him good, he decided. It will awaken his body and ease the ill feeling the lack of alcohol produced.

He arrived at OCSR Headquarters two hours later, sweaty, panting but content.

A young woman sat behind the reception desk, talking on the phone. She smiled at him when he approached and Heero nodded his head as a greeting.

He never gave much thought to his appearance - Adele had teased him about being a slob - but during his walk he had noticed that people were kinder if he presented himself properly. It was hard to admit, but there was something in what Adele had said about his good looks. People were so very gullible to believe that his looks said anything about his character.

“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” The young, attractive, woman asked after getting off the phone. Her sweet, seductive, smile did not waver, but grew when she ran her eyes on him.

Heero didn't bother to smile back and shifted the grocery bag from one hand to another. “I'm here to see a... friend,” he said, the last word catching in his throat, “Sergeant Duo Maxwell?”

An exultant spark twinkled in the girl's eyes the moment he had said Duo's name. Heero couldn't help but recall the look on Ashley Morganat's face the day after Duo brought her into their room. She had the same twinkle in her eyes.

“Are you a friend of Duo's?” The young woman asked elatedly, picking up the phone.

“Yes.” Heero answered, shifting uncomfortably from side to side. He wondered how many women would respond to Duo's name that same way.

“It's been such a long while since I last saw him,” she said, dialing, “let me call him down.”

Unconsciously, Heero held the shopping bag tighter. Once again, he was nervous towards his encounter with Duo.

A minute or two later the elevator doors opened and Duo, dressed in Class A uniforms, stepped into the lobby. When his eyes found Heero he stopped, stunned, before he resumed walking.

“Heero,” he said as he approached, “what are ya doin' here?”

“I brought you a snack.” Heero said quietly, feeling the receptionist's wide eyes on him.

“You what?” Duo stopped to look at him, and frowned, “Are you wearing my clothes?!”

Behind the reception desk, the young secretary's lips twitched up with the unexpected gossip material. Heero glared at her before turning back to Duo.

“I didn't have anything else to wear,” He explained, although the answer should have been obvious.

After sending his own glare towards the young receptionist, Duo led Heero away from the desk.

“You're not drunk, right?” He whispered uneasily as he led Heero to the elevator.

“No,” Heero assured him, a bit angered, “I promised you that I'll quit.”

“No, you didn't,” Duo muttered, shaking his head, “but if you say so then fine, I guess.”

They entered the elevator together, Heero still clutching the grocery bag. Once on the seventh floor, he followed Duo among the rows of cubicles until they arrived at Duo's station. There was a pile of paperwork on the desk and a few more documents open on the computer screen. Heero ran a quick scan over the cubicle, noting the colony maps and mission schedules pinned to the walls.

Duo sat down and leafed through his papers.

“Is this a bad time?” Heero asked, suddenly unsure of his decision to visit Duo at work.

“It's fine,” Duo muttered, searching through the stacks of paper until he found a pencil. A distant memory of one of Duo's rants flashed through Heero's mind; Duo had ranted all about the benefits of pencils in opposite to pens. He said that he liked the idea of being able to erase his mistakes and rewrite things. Heero still held the belief that typing on the computer was more beneficial, but who was he to argue with Duo's preferences? He had done so in the past, but now he understood his error.

“Sit down,” Duo said and gestured at the chair across of him. Heero obliged.

He placed the paper bag on the desk and pulled out two soft drinks and a pair of tortilla snacks. Duo watched him, amused, as he handed him a can of coke and one of the snacks.

“Ya really like this shit?” He asked and tore the bag open.

Heero nodded and reached for his can of apple juice. He didn't like cola.

Duo chuckled. “Well I'll be damned.”

People were staring, Heero observed as he sipped his drink. They were looking at him and whispering among themselves. It was making him uncomfortable.

“They know who you are,” Duo explained, quite uncaringly, and took a sip of coke.

“Did you tell them?” Heero asked, daring to look up at Duo.

“Didn't have ta,” Duo shrugged, “Yer face is all over the news.”

He had forgotten all about it. To him, the Interstellar Flight Tragedy was ancient history. All he wanted was to move forward and by doing that, he had forgotten all about the two hundred and fifty deaths he was accused of.

“It wasn't my fault,” he mumbled, hiding behind his can of juice. Shying away was difficult and embarrassing. Duo used to help him out in similar situations back when they moved from one school to another. Back when Duo had still cared enough to help his shy friend. Now he left Heero to fend on his own. The stares were making him nervous and he had no choice but to deal with them.

“Do they know who you are?” He finally asked, watching Duo throw a tortilla chip into his mouth.

The braided teen shook his head casually. “Just the boss,” he said, chewing, “People dun even know I'm seventeen.”

He chuckled and leaned back into his seat. “See, ya gotta be at least eighteen to get in and twenty-one to be a sergeant. Une helped me out, though.”

Heero frowned. “Why did you ask for her help?”

“It sure beats buying that phony crap they sell on the streets,” Duo grumbled sarcastically, “doesn't it?”

He had him there, Heero mused and looked away. The fake passport he bought in Brussels caused him nothing but trouble. Still, he found it hard to believe that Duo would ask for anyone's help. He was the type who handled things on his own, despite his outgoing appearance. Looks can be deceiving, Heero now knew.

The phone rang and Duo answered quickly. After a few short sentences he hung up and rose from his seat.

“Be right back,” he promised and walked away, still holding the can of coke. Heero watched him disappear between the cubicles. With a sigh, he turned back to the desk.

There was a large calendar hanging to his right, behind the computer monitor. It was a monthly work-plan that detailed the shifts of each and every worker on Duo's division. Each member had a different color to represent him. Duo's color was purple, and it was the most dominant on the board. His schedule was packed with staff meetings and mission briefings. There were numerous rescue drills, outer-colony patrols and training exercises. There wasn't a spot without Duo's name on the calendar.

“Sorry `bout that,” Duo said as he returned, taking a seat, “looks like I'm on patrol tomorrow night.” He pulled out a purple marker out of a drawer and leaned towards the calendar to list his name on the next day's shift slot.

“Your name is already listed on that day,” Heero remarked, trying to sound as unmeddling as possible, “You have a morning shift.”

“Yeah, well, it's no biggie. I'll throw in a night shift too. It's double the pay.”

“When do you have time to breathe?” The question slipped out of his mouth and he regretted it the moment he saw Duo's shoulders tense.

“Excuse me?”

“You have more shifts than most people.”

“That's none of your fucking business,” Duo spat and threw the marker back into the drawer. He slammed it shut. “A dude asked me to cover for him. So what?!”

“Do you always cover for people? All of your days are full.”

“I still don't see how that's your fucking business, Heero. Why won't ya butt outta my life?”

“I'm sorry,” Heero mumbled and got up, “you're right.”

“Damn straight.” Duo grunted and threw his arms across his chest. He watched Heero gather the empty snacks and drinks. Without a word, Heero turned to leave.

“Hey Heero,” Duo called out, softer this time. Heero turned to face him.

“Yes?”

“See ya at home?”

He smiled, relieved. “Sure.”

Duo smiled back and returned to work. Heero stood by his cubicle for a moment longer before leaving.

 

Two hours later Heero entered Duo's apartment and collapsed on the sofa, exhausted from the long walk. He wasn't used to so much activity, outside of bed that is. The thought made him chuckle and he fell asleep with a smile, sex on his mind.

The sound of the door clicking open was what pulled him out of slumber. He kept his eyes closed and listened to Duo walk into the kitchen. The refrigerator was opened, followed by the distinctive `pop' of a beer can. Duo sighed and stumbled into the living room.

Leather cushions squeaked as Duo settled in an armchair, which stood to the right of the sofa. Heero dared to open half an eye, thankfully hidden behind his bangs. He watched Duo's sprawled form melt into the comfy chair in an exhausted heap of limbs and cloth.

Tiredly, Duo loosened his tie and maneuvered himself awkwardly so he could shed his jacket without spilling the beer. Once the jacket was on the floor he opened the first three buttons of his uniform shirt and sunk back against the cushions. He drank his beer in silence and Heero closed his eyes, pretending to sleep.

The phone rang. Heero congratulated himself for not flinching. The sound had been so sudden and he was already half asleep.

“Hello?” Duo answered apathetically and then suddenly gave out a small, strained laugh.

“Oh Hilde! I'm sorry! I forgot to get back ta ya!”

Hilde Schbeiker. The reason he came to L2 was Hilde's connection to Duo. Now that he had found Duo he remained unsure about the nature of their connection. They were not lovers, he assumed, and hoped to find out more through their upcoming conversation.

“Yeah, he's still here,” Duo spoke into the phone and waited for Hilde's reply. Heero could only wonder what Hilde had to say about him staying with Duo.

“No, it's cool. Dun worry about it.” Duo muttered and took a long sip of beer.

“What?!” he exclaimed, although amused, “I thought you said you ain't gonna set me up with one of your girlfriends again! Not after what happened with what's-her-name... Tiffany!”

Apparently Hilde didn't care much for the subject, and for that Heero was grateful. The new topic of conversation, however, raised many new concerns.

“Stephanie, whatever.” Duo continued, after obviously being corrected, “See? I can't even remember their names!” He laughed and Heero unconsciously curled into himself. How many girls did Duo sleep with?

“Just tell her I'm seeing someone,” he insisted, a touch of bitterness in his voice, “You'll be saving her the trouble.”

Heero relaxed his body into the sofa, relieved.

“No, really Hilde, I'm not interested.”

Perhaps Duo was not such an eager ladies' man as he let on. Heero understood perfectly the kind of escape sex offered. He was a fool to believe that Duo would be any different in that matter. They were similar in that sense; seventeen years old, wounded from an endless war, and, terribly horny.

“Hilde, when you say `good looking' I know you mean `nice'. And when you say `nice' it means the broad hasn't been laid in years. No thanks.”

He could offer Duo so much more. He wanted to offer it, to offer everything. He would do anything if only Duo would let him. He was a stranger to love but deep down inside Heero felt that he could still give it. All he needed was a chance.

“Yeah, I'm sure,” Duo sighed into the phone, “Dun be such a nag!”

A chance, and maybe, a helping hand. It wouldn't hurt if Duo threw him a bone.

“Okay. I'll talk ta ya later. Yeah. Dun worry `bout it. Bye.”

Duo hung up the call. Heero opened his eyes and gazed at him silently. The braided teen threw his head against the backrest and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Can't bring a girl home with you here, right?” He muttered, gazing at the ceiling.

Heero cast his gaze down sadly. “You've done it before.”

Duo laughed, more like snorted, and threw his hand over his eyes. “Yeah, I did, didn't I?”

“I can leave.” Heero offered, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Don't bother,” Duo snapped, flinging his hand down, “I ain't in the mood for it anyway.”

Silence fell. Heero watched Duo sit slumped on the armchair, silent and thoughtful. His silence was not an unpleasant one, nor hateful. It felt as though Duo was also thinking about the next step.

“We should go sit someplace,” he finally said, “I know a nice bar `round the corner.”

Sighing, Heero looked away. “...don't tempt me, Duo. Please.”

It took Duo a moment to realize what he had offered. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“It's all right.” Heero assured, but kept his gaze on the floor. The mere mention of alcohol sent his veins surging with the need to be burnt with liquor. The nausea was building up again.

“Well, how about we go grab us some burgers?” Duo tried again, “we can catch a movie or somethin'.”

Heero's stomach made a flip-flop motion before he forced it to settle down.

“I hate burgers.”

“Yer a real tough one to please,” Duo muttered, irritated, “But at least yer making up some good excuses. Back in the days you just ignored me.”

“These are not excuses,” Heero grunted, looking fiercely at Duo, “I don't like hamburgers and I can't be around alcohol.”

He cast his gaze down in shame. “I'm not that strong.”

Duo fell silent for a while. Heero feared the worse.

“But you do wanna go out with me?” He asked carefully, so atypically timid.

Heero looked up again, straight into Duo's eyes. He nodded his head, slowly.

Duo smiled. “Okay. Then how about we just sit someplace nice? No booze.”

“I'd like that.” Heero said, smiling softly.

“Cool,” Duo concluded and got up, tapping his hands on his knees. “C'mon, I'll let ya borrow some of ma clothes.”

With a great effort Heero pushed himself off the sofa and followed Duo to the bedroom. He stood silently as Duo rummaged through the closet, choosing clothes for both of them. He handed Heero a pair of black jeans and a white shirt.

“It looks like something you'd wear,” he said and returned to choose his own wardrobe.

Heero stared at the clothes in his hand and sighed inwardly. The clothes were quite... boring, for the lack of any better word. Did Duo think of him as boring? Then again, why wouldn't he?

He dressed while Duo showered and turned to examine himself in the mirror. He was roughly the same built as Duo, though a bit thinner due to his recent lifestyle, so the jeans were a perfect fit. They sat just below the waist, something he was unaccustomed to, but he had to admit that it looked good.

The shirt Duo gave him was a long sleeve button-down with a vertical-stripes pattern, black over white. It was skintight but loose around the waist. He tucked it into the jeans and then frowned at his image. He looked like such a... dork? Was that the word Duo used?

Quickly, he pulled the shirt out of the trousers. He also opened the first two buttons to reveal a part of his chest.

Fussing over his looks was something new, but he wanted to make a good impression. He surveyed his reflection with approval. It was better, but far from perfect.

Turning to Duo's closet he searched through the hangers before picking out a black denim jacket that seemed to match the pants he wore. He tried it on and turned to the mirror. It was a short-cut jacket, ending just above his waist and nipping the torso. He had to admit that it made him look more masculine.

He was pleased. The image in the mirror was getting closer to normal. No one had helped him improve his attire and yet the result was pleasing to the eye. A small achievement, but an accomplishment nonetheless.

Leaning towards the mirror, Heero examined his features closely. Thankfully, he didn't need another shave. He looked up to examine his eyebrows and frowned. They were still neatly trimmed the way Adele had tweaked them but a week ago; a habit she had picked up since the first time he had so foolishly let her do so. She said that he shouldn't spoil her fun. She waxed her legs, so he should have his eyebrows plucked. It didn't look bad, he admitted. His features were softer, less angry, in appearance. He wondered if Duo had noticed. The mere thought of it caused his cheeks to flush with embarrassment. What would Duo say if he knew he had his eyebrows tweaked?!

“Looking good,” Duo commented as he entered the bedroom, leaving a trail of shampoo scent behind him. He was already dressed, wearing tight blue jeans and a black, long-sleeve, button-down top that clipped his masculine figure. His hair was already gathered into a tight, wet braid. Heero felt a small sense of disappointment. He wanted to see Duo braid his hair.

But Duo never braided his hair in front of him, or anyone else, as he suspected. He only did it behind closed doors. Still, Heero couldn't help but wishfully think about it.

“Thank you.” He finally said, his eyes following Duo as he went over to the bed and put on a pair of black sneakers.

“You should get your ear pierced,” Duo remarked matter-of-factly while he tied his shoelaces, “It'll suit ya.”

“Why?” Heero asked and sent a small glance at his refection.

“I dunno,” Duo shrugged, “seeing ya dressed like that made me think,” he let out a chuckle to dismiss his comment, “It's just a stupid idea.”

Heero frowned and tried to picture himself wearing an earring. It didn't seem like something he would do and suddenly the idea was very appealing.

“Yer ready?” Duo asked, getting up. They both looked down at Heero's bare feet and smiled.

“In a minute.”

Duo also let Heero borrow a pair of shoes and they finally headed out. Heero decided against driving and Duo showed no objections when he asked if it would be all right for them to walk. He wanted to spend as much time as he could in Duo's company and walking would prolong the experience.

The first fifteen minutes of their walk passed in awkward silence. Duo fiddled with the key chain in his pocket while Heero stared at the pavement. If he were drunk, the situation would have been much easier to cope with. He would have thought of something to say without screening every word in his head before it was spoken. Then again, if he were drunk he probably would have said a lot of unnecessary things to Duo, like how he wanted to put his arms around him and inhale as deeply as he possibly could.

“How about a nice café?” Duo was the first to speak, “Sounds good?”

“Yes, it does.” Heero replied and the silence returned for another fifteen minutes. Any other attempt to get a conversation going fell into silence after a few short sentences. The ice was back, but Heero felt that neither Duo nor he were responsible. Neither of them was trying to be cold to the other. There was simply an awkward tenseness in the air that caused great uneasiness. Two young men going on a semi-kind-of-date was something that made them both uncomfortable.

Duo took the lead and Heero followed, glad that they finally had a certain direction. L2's streets were frightening at night, not that he was afraid but the potential sources of danger were making his head whirl. Some instincts were too deeply ingrained in him to be discarded in a few short months.

While scanning the streets, mostly out of habit, Heero's eyes fell upon a small store ahead of them. He watched it intently as they approached, his cobalt eyes reflecting the gleaming neon signs. It was a tattoo parlor, as the signs read, flashing in red and green writing. Red and green. A fateful combination.

As they walked past the shop Heero stopped and looked inside. It was still open.

Duo, who kept walking a few steps forward, must have realized that he was walking on his own and stopped as well. He turned around and gave Heero an odd look.

“Somthin' the matter?” He asked and Heero shook his head.

“They do piercing,” he said and pointed at a small cardboard sign hanging on the exhibit window.

Duo stepped closer, so close that Heero could feel his warmth even through the denim, and peered inside.

“Yer serious?”

“Why not?”

His answer was one of Duo's trademark grins. A real, rare, one. “After you,” he beamed and they both entered the parlor.

The storekeeper - who was also the `artist' - was just about to close when they walked in. For an extra five dollars he agreed to keep the store open just for them and allowed Heero to chose an earring.

He picked a small, simple silver earring with a smooth round head. Duo convinced him to take one similar to what he chose, but with a shiny round rock at the head. In return, he picked one for himself as well: a small gothic silver cross.

As the storekeeper pressed the piercing gun to his ear, Heero tensed, and reminded himself that no harm would come to him. He repeated the promise like a mantra in his head for the full three seconds of the procedure. When it was over, his earlobe throbbed, nothing more, and he relaxed.

Duo was next. Heero stood and watched as his braided friend got the top of his inner ear pierced. It looked more painful than what he had done, but Duo didn't even wince. He got up and went to the mirror, examining the cross in his ear.

“It suits you,” Heero assured him and stepped closer, leaning over Duo. The shopkeeper gave them a wary look, but Heero ignored him.

Duo did the same. He turned to look at Heero and smiled.

“You too, man,” he said, eyes gleaming, “it looks cool.”

After Duo took care of the bill for the both of them, they left the store, and their uneasiness, behind.

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

To be continued...

O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O.O

FYI #1: There are many studies that prove that a person's scent is an important factor of how and why we choose a certain mate. Just like any other living being, humans emit pheromones, and, combined with other ingredients that make out a person's unique scent, these factors help us chose a mate. Some believe that a person's scent may carry specific genetic information that helps us chose - on an instinctive level - if the person is suitable for us or not.

An interesting fact is that people tend to choose a mate who smells differently from them - opposites attract as the saying goes - because on a basic, genetic level, it is not healthy to have two parents with similar genetic information. When people kiss, they bring their noses close to the other person's body, as if to inspect their scent.

I'm left to wonder why the same applies to homosexual couples because genetics and procreation shouldn't be a factor in the relationship. So perhaps a person's scent is more than a genetic signature. I don't know how much of this is true, but I do find these facts interesting. I know for sure that I can't stand my date if he doesn't smell to my liking. And no, not because he didn't shower or stank… just because I didn't like his individual smell. Period.