Title: Koji ma Oshi
author: Sol 1056
rating: NC-17 for sex, violence, and dirty mouths
warning: BDSM, psychological issues, post-post-EW
pairings: 2x1, 3x5x3, 4xR
Chapter Thirteen
When things get tough, Hilde used to say, tough people call their friends and get together and eat. A lot. For a skinny girl, she could almost put food away as well as I could, and I topped her by seven inches.
Inviting Zorya to breakfast was the next best thing. It wasn't like I could sit down with Quatre or Relena and say: so, last night I let Heero tie me up, but I flaked out and I think I've ruined everything, from a chance at amazing sex with a man that... well, fuck, is basically sex on legs--but I might've ruined any chance at a friendship, too, and just when it seemed like maybe...
Nope. Not going to say any of that to Relena or Quatre, as much as I love them both.
Then again, it wasn't much easier to tell Zorya, either. She'd hugged me hello when she'd arrived, and I'd set breakfast down in front of her--perfect timing, really. Then she started eating, but she was staring at me more than eating. I twitched, wondering whether Heero was in the office yet. Maybe he'd stay home, and then I could go in and work on the Sweepers network. And then I'd stay home the next day, and he could work. Or I could just stay in my apartment--
"Are you going to eat that, or just leave it as table decoration?" Zorya's voice brought me back to reality.
"Oh. Yeah. Eat. Right." I stared at the food, then put a bite of egg in my mouth. It tasted like... cardboard. Ashes. Something bitter. It had smelled good when I cooked it, but... I forced myself to swallow, and took another bite, because Zorya was staring at me with that mother-mode look again.
"Duo." She set down the fork and leaned across the table to take my hand. "You really do look like crap. Do you want to end up sick again?"
"Would it mean I can stay home from work?" I hated it, but my voice sounded very small and pathetic in my ears. I didn't look her in the eyes, but stared at the soggy eggs and the cold toast on my plate. "Like... forever?"
"What happened?" Zorya sighed, and tightened her fingers in mine. "I heard you came back to the club, and then left with Heero. And then no word from you for two days... and you look like... " She shook her head; obviously words weren't enough to describe my state of shit.
"It was a rough trip." I shrugged, and decided to explain at least a little bit. "I work with the Preventers. Last-minute assignment, on L4." I gave her the basics of the itinerary, and when she didn't say anything, I kept going. The trip to Heero's. Meeting Rex--though I left out the knives, and stumbled over the part where Rex kissed Heero, and how Heero might've even kissed him back. Her eyebrows went up so I know she noticed but I didn't want to say it out loud, even in the bare-whisper I was using. "And then he suggested I take a nap and we would... "
"You would," she prompted.
I stared at my plate. The eggs looked congealed. I felt ill.
"Duo, don't tell me you--" She didn't finish, but left it there, waiting.
I nodded.
"You... you... " She shook her head, bright-tipped hair flying around her face. "I can't believe this! You negotiated for two hours, one time, and hadn't slept in what, thirty-six hours, and you think you can what? Where have you been? How badly have I failed you that you could be--"
"You didn't fail me," I said, suddenly frantic. "This wasn't your fault. I just... screwed up."
"Like hell, you screwed up beyond screwing up." Zorya slapped her forehead, then dropped her hand to glare at me, but her expression softened into something far more sympathetic. "So you left? Up and walked out? Did he try and stop you? Say anything?"
"He let me go... but I didn't really give him a choice." And even Heero wouldn't be obtuse enough to think he could stop me if I was determined... but I didn't see reason to add that.
"What did he do?"
"Stood there... looking like I'd kicked his puppy," I mumbled. I felt like a cad.
"Damn it, Duo... what were you thinking? Oh, wait, you weren't. What about aftercare? A chance to talk about it. Work it out. Be honest about your exhaustion and lack of energy. Sounds to me like you were running on fumes, boy, and I think you still are."
"Maybe," I muttered.
"I still can't believe--how many times did I tell you that aftercare is as important as negotiation, and as important as the scene? You can't play safely and sanely without all three parts. How many times did I tell you that?"
"Every time we talked?" I tried for a smile, but it probably just looked crooked.
"And you didn't... " She sighed, and shook her head again. "I don't know if you can salvage things without a lot of work."
"I'd like to. I was... I wanted him, and then it just... " I shrugged. I wasn't sure how to explain it, and saying it too loud might make it real. Strange, but I didn't feel real, myself. It all felt surreal. I tried to keep my voice to a whisper, and lean closer to her, even if all I really wanted to do was crawl under the table. "I couldn't figure out what he wanted. That's what it felt like."
"Did you tell him what you wanted?"
"We negotiated."
"And at any point, did you tell him what you'd want out of a scene with him, personally?"
"Yeah." I scowled, a little, at her skeptical expression. "Kind of."
"Kind of. Did you in any way let on how you feel about him?"
I frowned at that. "He knows I think he's a good guy." I recalled him saying he didn't want to argue. Why had he said that? We didn't argue that much... did we? Why would he think I was arguing? He was the one who kissed Rex, not me. Where did he--
"Duo!" Zorya snapped her fingers under my nose. "Don't make me tie you up and beat you to get the answers out of you. You need to learn to give the answers before that point, or you'll never get to that level of honesty in a scene. The fact that you couldn't sit down and talk with him afterwards is a clear sign that you hadn't been doing it beforehand."
"I did, too!"
"Really? Did you tell him you're in love with him?"
I opened my mouth to speak, and I just didn't have any words. My mouth moved, and no sound came out. I couldn't even fuckin' think. Gone. Just like that. Gradually it came back, and my brain whirred into life. Me? In lo... I mean, me, with Heero? Oh, please. No. He's just a friend, and so what if I have a few fantasies about friends, I used to wonder what Sally looked like naked, too, but I'm a guy, I can do that. And it's not like that at all with Heero, it's just that once he was my best friend or maybe my only friend and I liked the fact that once I was his best friend or maybe just his only friend, and then there's some guy kissing him and I just...
"No," I whispered, and dropped my gaze back to the plate. The eggs weren't getting any warmer, or any more appetizing. "I... I mean, because I'm not."
"You're lying to yourself, and me, then."
"Am not." I knew I sounded petulant. I didn't care.
"Not telling the whole truth is the same thing as lying, in my book."
"But I'm... " And there go the words. I'm not in love. In love is for children. For idiots. For people who don't know what it's like to get a phone call that their best friend has been ripped from stem to stern by some wacko with a really big knife. For people who aren't afraid of anything... "Maybe once upon a time I wasn't even afraid of death itself, but really, I'm still not afraid of death. But I just... I don't want to go through this. I don't want to sleep at night with a friend's sweater because I can't have the real thing. I don't want to whisper into the dark and never get an answer... " I don't want to reach out and put my hand on Heero's face and run my fingers across his scars and know that I could ever feel this empty, this desperate, this forlorn, again in my life. I don't want to go through this again, this emptiness, knowing she's gone--
"Duo," Zorya said, and suddenly she was next to me. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her arms around me. I don't know how my arms got there, but I was hugging her around her waist, my face against her stomach, and sobbing.
I'd mourned for Hilde, in little ways. I'd missed her, raged against her murderer, denied her absence, called her name in the dark and found myself picking up the phone to invite her for dinner before remembering this is earth and she's been dead for a year and a half...
But I'd never truly cried, and now I couldn't stop. It wasn't the dry heaving sobs from the first time I'd scened with Zorya, but great air-gulping, almost-screaming tears that threatened to drown me. Zorya had one hand on my head, bending to the side to reach something on the table. I buried my face against her stomach and continued to howl. She was talking, but I couldn't hear her words and it didn't matter, because all I knew was one thing, and it filled every pore, rushed through every cell, a massive sweeping wave that ripped through every barrier.
Hilde was...
Dead.
Gone.
Never...
Coming...
Back.
All the tears in the world wouldn't fill the empty space in my heart, and nothing could undo the fact that I'd finally seen the hole was there. And it terrified me--not only that I could feel such loss, that I could care that deeply, but--that it could ever happen again. More than anything, it was the fear that I'd never get over this. That it would never stop hurting. That I'd spend the rest of my life feeling like I was missing something, left it in my other coat pocket--
And I cried. Her shirt was soaked through and my chest hurt and my throat was sore, and then she shifted away from me. I flailed, trying to hold on, but someone caught my wrists. I couldn't even look up; I could barely focus through the tears pouring down my cheeks. I could only wail, the intense pain ripping through my body.
"Duo," a deeper voice, a baritone, and rough fingers were wiping my cheeks. Heero's face swam into view, he was crouched before me, his hands cupping my face. "Duo, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... "
"Y-y-you've n-never ap-polog-gized bef-fore," I choked out. I started to laugh at the ridiculous remark, but the laugh turned into a sob, and there came another bout of tears. Sobs rose up in my body, and I closed my eyes against his worried, upset expression. "I-I'm s-sorry--" I fought to stop the sobs, but all I did was cough. "I-I sh-shouldn't b-be--"
"Cry all you want, Duo," Heero said, and came up on his knees.
I didn't know where Zorya was, and couldn't even think, because his arms were around me, hugging me. I buried my face in his neck, barely aware he was kissing my ear, my temple, my hair, smoothing down my braid and running his hands up and down my back... and I practically fell out of the chair, kneeling against him.
"I m-miss her--" I wept, keening helplessly, carried away on the surge of emotion. "I-I m-m-miss her s-so m-much, a-and she's n-never c-c-coming back, a-and--"
I could only cling to him, as if he were the last real thing in my existence, the only real thing, an anchor, something solid and true. It felt like I was eight and confessing to the priest, but my fingers were no longer crossed--it was all truth and it just poured out, in stuttered phrases, muffled against his collarbone while he murmured in my ear.
"She's r-really d-d-dead, g-gone... " Another round of sobs hit me, and there was no way around it, I was bawling like I hadn't since I was eight, since I was six, and I felt like a small child, but protected in a way I'd never when I was young. Someone to lean against, someone's arms around me and for a few minutes, I didn't have to be strong.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Heero was saying, over and over.
"I'm s-sorry, t-too," I stuttered, some distant part of my brain obviously disengaged, but the pain in my chest was too much and it tore through everything. It left me bereft, weak, shaking in Heero's arms, and I could only remember what I'd not told Zorya, what I should've told Heero. "I-I don't e-ever want t-t-to feel th-this way again. I'm so s-s-scared that I a-always w-will--it h-hurts, it hurts--"
"I know, I know," Heero murmured, and kissed my hair, my temple, wiped my tears, ran his hands down my back... I couldn't keep track, and I didn't fight it, I just let him touch me. It felt good, it felt... real. "I'm sorry I pushed you last night. I just... I wanted to give you something, but I'm sorry I couldn't. But mostly I'm sorry I can't bring her back. If I could, I would. Oh, Duo, I would... "
"No, no, no," I protested. "I just... " I took a deep, shuddering breath, and started to pull away, but Heero held me tight, and I gave up. So what if my knees hurt, and my right foot was going to sleep. "That's got nothing t-to do w-with this--"
"I think it has a lot to do with this," Heero said.
I took a deep breath, exhaling against him, and everything just drained out of me, like someone had unplugged the tub and left me swirling around, drowning... until it was all gone and now I was dry, empty. I didn't move; it was easier, keeping my face pressed against his shirt--tear-damp, and wrinkled, and probably none too fresh after I'd wiped my nose on it, too--because then I didn't have to lift my head and see his reaction. I felt heavy, and tired, even though I'd slept the night away. Drained. I sighed, and slumped against him, too exhausted to even muster words.
"Come on," Heero coaxed, and helped me to my feet. I don't know how, since he never let go of me and I never let go of him.
But the two of us moved as one unit into my bedroom--the room I'd evacuated only an hour before to finally respond to Zorya's messages on my machine... then my knees bumped the mattress and I was lowered down. Heero pulled away and I tightened my grip. No, not my last anchor--there was no logic, no rational thought, just sheer panic at losing one more thing. I needed something to hold onto, and I refused to let go of him with one hand, even as I loosened the other to search blindly beside me for Hilde's sweater.
My hand touched the soft cotton, the nubby texture of the old garment, and suddenly it was finally, completely, undoubtedly true. The tears were gone, and only a total fatigue was in their place. I held onto Heero's shirt with one hand, and Hilde's sweater with the other; Heero had frozen, half-leaning over me, in the act of guiding me onto the bed.
"She's gone," I whispered, and held up the sweater. "I feel so tired. I feel like... like I've spent a year and a half fighting to keep her here, and now I'm just so tired... I feel so... "
"She's not gone," Heero replied. His voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away, across miles of open empty space, yet I could feel the heat of his body under the light summer shirt. "You've not forgotten her. Always remember her."
"Man," I said, a spark of life returning. "That's p-pretty corny, Heero."
"I didn't get my top grades for my extemporaneous speaking skills," he said, and I opened my eyes to see his amusement.
It faded, like Zorya's, into a sorrowful smile, and he knelt down in front of me. He seemed to be doing that a lot. I dragged Hilde's sweater into my lap, but kept one hand gripping his shirt. My own security blanket... or blankets, I suppose. Heero placed his hands on top of the sweater, and I could feel the warmth of his hands, through the cotton.
"I guess I l-look like shit," I said, and took a deep breath. It turned into another shivery-sigh, half-caught on a sob. Forcing it down just made me cough. "Kinda melodramatic, I suppose." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, and failed at finding a smile somewhere in me. I didn't feel like smiling.
"Do you want me to stay here until you feel better? Or would you rather I leave?"
"You mean you'd... " I stared at him, unsure, and thrown by the offer. "You don't have to. I was a jerk last night, most of yesterday, really, and... " Honesty, Zorya had always said, and right now, Heero couldn't see me at much worse than I was, right? I sniffled, felt like a damned kid, and stared down at the sweater rather than him. "I was... I was jealous."
"Duo, I--"
"I'm an idiot, I know." I looked away, staring at the last unpacked boxes in the corner of my room. "He seemed awfully... and when you... " I closed my eyes. "I figured if I didn't say yes, you might not ask again."
"I should ex--"
"And I don't want to be alone," I blurted. "I didn't then, and if you don't mind, when Hilde was sick, she always wanted me to stay on the bed next to her and read or something while she slept. If... if you... " I ran out of steam, and twisted the sweater in my hands. Yeah, now I'd gone beyond kid, into fool, but there it was. Open, honest, and the gut-wrenching truth--no, wait. Heero had started to stand up, but it wasn't the entire truth. "There's more. I-I have to tell you the rest."
"What rest?" Heero sounded bewildered.
"Just so you know, I'm not asking b-because Hilde did that, but I am. I mean," I took a deep breath, rode out the convulsive sob in my chest, and let the rest of the words burst out. "I mean, the only person I want there while I sleep is you. Not anyone else. Just you."
"Why," he whispered, but he didn't seem angry, or disbelieving. A gentle hesitation, confusion...
"Because I trust you," I said.
He shocked me by leaning over and kissing me on the forehead, then pushed me down until I was lying on the bed. He swung my feet up, and pulled the blanket out from under me--and neither of us commented that it was the one he'd left at my place a month before. Then he tucked me in like the nuns always had... twenty years before, when I was a child and the world was a simpler place and being tucked in was the only required tangible proof that I was safe.
"I'll be right back," Heero told me. "I left my laptop by the door. I'll bring it in here and set up, and I'll be here when you wake. Today, tomorrow, and as long as you need me."
I laughed, sleepily, not really paying attention to my words. "It's taken me a year and a half to get to this point, Heero. It could be another year and a half before I'm... I dunno, whatever comes next. That's a long time to work from home on your laptop."
"The honest truth is that I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," Heero whispered.
My eyes were closing, and I felt wiped. The bed was comfortable--far more than it had been when I'd come flying home in a panic--and the room was just warm enough to be cozy. The room went dark in a swoosh of blinds rattling down to bump against the sill, and then Heero's light footsteps moved across the threshold.
I held onto Hilde's sweater, ready to wake and find Heero gone, but I stayed awake long enough to register his weight settling down onto the bed next to me. And then a hand landed on my shoulder, rubbing me gently through the blanket.
I slept.
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When I woke up, it was dark in the room, but I could see light filtering through the blinds across the window. Faint, and tinged with gold: must be late afternoon, getting close to dinner.
Heero was lying on the bed next to me, sound asleep; he faced me, hair falling into his face, and for a moment I was tempted to brush it away, but didn't want to wake him. He looked peaceful, much younger, with just the faintest smile on his face.
Then my stomach growled. Loudly.
His eyes fluttered, then opened, and the first thing he did was smile. Not a smirk, not a smug look, not even shy, but... I don't know. Like he was just so pleased to see me, there, like I'd just made his day and a whole host of Sundays, too. I couldn't help it. I found myself smiling back, if a bit ruefully. I had to look a mess.
"Good evening," I said, and it came out rather scratchy.
"Hungry?" He smiled even wider, and sat up. "We can order Thai, if you like. Or Indo-garian?"
"Either. As long as it's food. There's money in--"
"My treat," he said, getting up from the bed and retrieving his laptop. He flipped it open, opened a window, and I came up on my elbows to look at the menu across his lap. We picked out our selections and he sent it through, closing down the window only once he got confirmation. "Forty-five minutes... must be busy tonight."
"It's Saturday... no, Sunday?"
"Monday." Heero grinned and put the laptop away, then laid back down on top of the covers. He was facing the ceiling, and the room grew darker, but neither of us moved to turn on a light. He shifted, as though uncertain. "Are you thirsty?"
"Not really, but if you--"
"No."
We were quiet again, then I sighed, and rolled over on my stomach, hugging the pillow while I tried to study him as subtly as possible. I wasn't sure what to say. Apologize, maybe? Or thank him? How could I possibly describe... I didn't know. I couldn't begin to thank him, yet...
"I came to Bremen for my doctorate," Heero said. Calm, not quite flat, and just the smallest hint of amazement--maybe at what he was saying, or maybe that he was speaking. Hard to tell. "I was assigned a mentor, and the second or third time we met, he was wearing a collar. I asked him about it. He'd not realized he was still wearing it, he said, and he started to take it off, but I wanted to know... "
I waited, and Heero shrugged, glancing sideways at me. That little smile appeared again, curling up the edges of his lips.
"That's how I ended up at Paradiso for the first time." Heero returned to studying the ceiling. "I went about once a month, and not really sure why. But it seemed like everyone around me had... " He paused, frowning. "I envied you. When we were kids."
"Hunh?" That was a jump I hadn't expected.
"You could talk to people. Knew what to say, to make them comfortable. You stood out, but didn't. I was the proverbial sore thumb, and I... " He sighed. "I think I went to school not because it's what I wanted, but because I couldn't think of anything else that would... give me structure. I suppose."
"I can relate."
Again, silence, except for both of us breathing.
"I really fucked up last night." Heero seemed to be quite intent on the ceiling, suddenly. "I... I went and had a long talk with a friend, and... I owe you an apology. I'll understand if you'll not want to try again, but I shouldn't have done that. I should have--"
"I got the same speech, from Zorya," I said. "The you-didn't-think speech."
He chuckled. "Yeah. That would be the one."
"I'd like to... try again. Once I've had food, and rest, and... "
"And more talking." Heero rolled onto his side, head propped up on his fist. "I didn't talk to anyone at Paradiso for the longest time, until Ty and Kitty started talking to me, and they just didn't stop. It reminded me of you... that way of just deciding without my say-so that you were going to do something, and I just was along for the ride."
"You like that." Something in my head registered his words, but I noted it and filed it away. I'd take it out later and figure out then what it was.
"It's not an experience I get that often." Heero shrugged. "J always asked me what I wanted to do, and gave me the parameters. I'd choose, and then it was up to me when it came to implementation. If he'd outlined the rules of any task, then my success or failure could have been judged solely on how well I followed those directions. He was too smart for that. He just gave me the goal, and told me to get there by whatever means necessary."
"G did kinda the same thing," I offered.
"Did G give you a choice?"
I thought about that. "Not really. He just said, here's a target, or here's something to do, have at it. But sometimes I didn't go along because I had my own mind about what I wanted as a goal. But we lost contact pretty soon into the war, so it wasn't a long-term pattern."
"It was always my responsibility."
I wondered if he were thinking of the time he'd tracked down all those people and offered to let them shoot him. Bloody suicidal bastard... but I could kinda see his reasons, too, even back then. I certainly couldn't hate him for it, even if I read him the riot act when I found out about it.
"When I was in college, they were short on teachers at the Preventers' academy, and Wufei asked me to come teach a summer class on combat and piloting." Heero's lips twisted. "And then Une said what I guess she thought was a good thing." He mimicked her tone, but with an edge of sarcasm. "These students' success or failure rides on your ability to teach them what they need to know."
"Oh, doncha just love that woman." The sarcasm wasn't just an edge in my voice: it was piled on about sixteen inches deep.
"I was in my senior year when Trowa asked me to partner with Wufei on a mission--one they couldn't spare anyone else for, and needed our skills. So I did it, and by the third mission, I was in charge of six people... then eight... then twelve, which is where it's stood since then. The missions where it was just Wufei and myself were always such a relief. I didn't have to worry about the additional responsibility of all those people, blundering along behind me." He frowned again. "None of them were like you."
"Hunh?" Again with the shocker subject jump.
"They... " He was quiet for a long moment, and I figured he'd run out of words--hit his quota, probably--and then he continued. "I knew your training was minimal compared to mine, but it was like you had instincts. I could trust that. Trust you. Knew you wouldn't get me killed, or you, or anyone else that wasn't in the direct line of fire... but anyway, when I started my Master's, I thought I could leave that behind."
"What, Preventers?"
"And the... responsibility. But Trowa had moved up to Division Director, and he insisted he needed my skills. Wufei was head of training by then, and Quatre tag-teamed me with Trowa until I agreed to moonlight. And I worked on a project for my thesis, studying a group doing reparative construction on L3... the Lower Ring Crash was a result of their work."
I winced. There wasn't a space baby out there that hadn't shuddered in fear, or pulled together to help the victims. Major construction, and systems failed in the zone, causing cascade failure. The Lower Ring had destabilized, and when gravity returned...
"I had thought," Heero whispered, "that what I'd be doing would help people's lives be better. Instead, I was working--however indirectly--on something that killed four thousand people. Improving colony construction was the goal, but the methods would be up to me, once I began the work in earnest... and once again, the responsibility would be all mine. Success or failure, live or die, if I made the wrong choice, took the wrong path... "
"Heero," I murmured, not sure where he was going with it, but worried.
"No." He sighed, and smiled, rolling over on his back again. That smile remained. "When I met Ty and Kitty, they introduced me to Rex. It wasn't an overnight thing, and I'm not saying it was, but... I discovered that this... scene... gives me something I don't get anywhere else in my life. Ever."
"Freedom," I said, suddenly understanding the little cues I'd seen. Heero's response when I'd fed him, when we'd been on that trip, when... oh, fuck. Damn, was I a moron, or what? "You're a submissive."
He nodded, and gave me an anxious look. "Ty and Kitty sub to Rex, and switch between each other, and I've been dominant to them and some other friends... I can do it. And they say I do it well. But I just... "
"Don't like it," I offered, somewhere between a question and a bald statement.
"Sometimes it's okay. But usually... it's like... it's one more time, being given a goal, and it's entirely up to me to figure out how to get there. And it's all riding on me. I feel... heavy, afterwards. Antsy. Edgy. Like I want to slip off my skin and... " He snorted. "I don't know how to put it."
It felt like we were fifteen again, lying in our beds in the darkness after lights out, separated by ten feet of room and ten thousand miles between our colonies, our histories, our hopes. I never told anyone--and I doubted they'd believe me, anyway--that in the dark, Heero can talk your frickin' ear off. He gets going, and... it all rushes out. But then, I guessed that after my whole breakdown that morning, I had a bit more insight into floodgates. A few cracks, here and there, and... whoosh, it would all come out. But still, I preferred his floodgate breakage to mine.
"What do you like about submitting? You just want to be along for the ride?"
"Not only that. I like... well, it's not... "
I waited. He'd say when he found the words. It took a few minutes, but he did.
"I've only submitted to Rex, and even that was a lot of work, and it's still hard. I don't always trust that he could--could really be enough, if anything happened. If that makes sense."
I thought of wondering how in the hell Zorya would ever force me to do anything, and nodded. "It does."
"I don't care about nudity, or being clothed." He smiled, wry, when I muffled an almost-laugh against the pillow. "But sometimes when we're in public, I like... I like having someone else over me. I don't know how to put it. Someone who's... in charge. That if someone else says to me: this is your duty, it's like I don't need to listen. There's only one person to listen to, and whether I succeed or fail, it's not my responsibility. It'll be his, or hers, whomever. That how well I do is based on their guidance, not on my own bad decisions."
Freedom. Like Libri, in some ways: seeking the freedom to fail, and maybe succeed even more, reach higher, through being released.
"I like the public statement, too." His voice was faint. "I like having someone of my own. And other people knowing I'm someone's... "
I was starting to get a better picture--I recalled the way Heero had been standing when I'd found him in the club, when this whole nightmarish four days--five days?--had started. He'd been leaning back against Rex, who'd not even been including Heero in the conversation, it'd seemed. Rex's arm, possessive, inclusive, protective. I imagined me doing that... and knew instantly that if I ever saw Rex doing that to Heero again, I'd not just break every bone in his hand, but his arm and maybe two or three of his ribs.
"But that's why it wouldn't work with Rex," Heero continued. Hopefully he wasn't even picking up on my momentary tension, thanks to sudden dark and bloody thoughts about body parts other than mine draped across him and when did I get so fuckin' possessive? I jerked my brain back to attention. "He's not exclusive. It's good, and I respect that, but it's not what I want. I want... "
"To be someone's."
"Yes."
"To be protected."
His voice got even quieter, if that were possible. "Yes."
"To be possessed."
He didn't even answer; he just swallowed hard.
I rested my cheek on the pillow and stared at his profile. There were things I could say, but I wanted to hear what he had to say, first. It seemed to me that he was telling me all the things he'd held back. We'd already fucked up once by rushing into a scene. This time, I wouldn't make that mistake. I'd let it come, on its own accord.
"I followed you once, to lunch," Heero whispered, and once again his body was tense, as though waiting for my disapproval. "I saw Zorya... everyone knows her, and I thought... "
"You thought I was a sub, too."
He nodded. "So I was trying to work on being dominant more, so I could--I'm not very good at this."
"Good at what?" I didn't understand.
"Talking. I've known Rex for two years now, and it's been awhile since I've had to do this part."
"Oh." I had to slap down the part of me that immediately felt jealous. "So you've been with him awhile."
"Yeah," he said, in a wistful tone. "But I always felt second-best, since I'm not his primary submissive. And I... "
I went cold. If Rex had agreed, would Heero ever have noticed... I almost lost my chance... and if--
"Stop thinking that," Heero said. He rolled over to face me, and tapped me on the nose. It startled me; it was the first time he'd touched me since I'd fallen asleep. "Whatever you're thinking, stop. Idiot. Rex is a good guy, but sometimes he can be rather pushy. He thought he was helping, last night."
"Helping! He practically mauled you right--"
Heero arched an eyebrow. "Now you're being melodramatic."
I sulked for a moment, then shrugged. "Anyway. What gave him the bright idea?"
"He didn't say in so many words, but I think he had this idea you'd leap up and throw him off me." Heero snorted. "I nearly threw him off me, myself. It was rude of him."
"Pretty fucked-up way to play matchmaker." I hugged the pillow tighter, and grinned at him. "Next time, just punch him. Unless you really want me to."
"I wouldn't want to deprive you, if you felt it necessary. But don't go too hard on him. He's not one of us, and he is a friend. However... idiotic he can be."
"Hey. Don't be wasting that moniker on anyone else. I don't like to share." I elbowed Heero under the covers, and he shifted quickly away from the lump. I hoped he didn't notice the turn of phrase--or maybe I did, but he didn't comment on it.
"You're a different idiot."
"You're not very good at being submissive."
"I'm not submissive to you."
"Yet."
His eyes widened, then narrowed; he gave me that crookedly smug smile again, and leaned away. One hand came up as if to defend himself, but I knew he was teasing. I opened my mouth--and the doorbell rang. He laughed, put his hand on my face, and pushed me backwards just a bit.
"Be right back," he called, getting up. "Stay there, I'll bring you dinner."
I rolled over on my back, and clasped my hands behind my head. "I could get used to this!"
"Don't!"
I chuckled, listening to him talking to the delivery person. Something was making the mattress lumpy, and I moved around, pulling out Hilde's sweater; it had ended up under the covers with me. I studied it for a long time, then buried my face in it and inhaled deeply. There was just the faintest hint of the flowery perfume she'd worn, so long ago, but it only made me smile.
I folded the sweater neatly, and put it away in the bottom drawer. Then I laid back, waiting for Heero to find the plates and forks in the kitchen, and come bring me dinner in bed.
On to Chapter fourteen
Back to chapter twelve