30-Jan-2006
Title: Splendor Restored 7/13+E
Author: BadMomma
Warnings: AU (my first), limey
Pairings: 1x2x1, some mention of 3x4, OCs
Rating: MA for language and some sexual situations
Disclaimer: Own them, I do not.
Archived: GWA, ff.net, Under the Bridge
Feedback: Craved, greatly appreciated and always answered (though lately, it may take a little while).
Notes: See Chapter 1 (Does anyone even remember that chapter??)
Summary: A Renovations Consultant finds more than just old buildings of interest on his new job site when he gets tangled up with the resort's Program Director.
"Like Ringling Brothers?"
"Yes."
"The circus people?"
"Yep."
"He lived with a circus?"
"Mmhm."
"No way! That's every kid's dream." I look at him sideways and catch a faint smirk on his face. "Are you
pulling my leg?"
He shakes his head and I see an eyebrow rise from behind his sunglasses. It's that eyebrow, I've figured
out, that says I'm amusing him.
"His family was circus people. If you don't believe me, ask him when he gets here. If you want, and you can get the weekend off, you can come with us when we go visit his sister next month."
"You're serious?!"
"Yes." He looks like he's trying to keep from smiling. He's probably just fooling around.
"I don't believe you. Admit it, OK, joke on the small town kid is up. You're kidding, right?"
"Duo, why would I lie about this? He'll be here in a few weeks and you would find out anyway. If you want, I'll call him and tell him to bring you some proof. What do you want, pictures? Costumes? Playbills? He might even have something he can email me."
"Oh no, no, no. I don't think so, buddy, I'm not letting you call ahead and warn him. This is probably some elaborate joke you pull on unsuspecting strangers, right? Something you came up with back when you were in college? You had a few pictures taken at the circus, doctored them up to look like he worked there? Come on, admit it!"
His face takes on a very serious look, but a hint of amusement still tugs at it. "Whether you believe me or not, it is the truth. His parents were with the circus. They were originally performers and then later they just trained the other acrobats. They taught Trowa, too, which is how he managed to go to school on a gymnastics scholarship."
"So that's how you two met?"
He nods. "Because of school, yes, not because of the gymnastics; we had the same major. His being involved in gymnastics is how we met Relena."
"Your boss's daughter?"
"Yes."
"The one that has the hots for you, eh? The one that'll be here in a couple of weeks?"
"Yes, and thank you /so much/ for reminding me."
"Oh, no problem. Anything for a friend."
He frowns in a halfhearted show of anger, but relaxes it quickly. He's probably not mad - just not looking forward to her arrival. "Yes, well. Are we ever going to get to this great spot on the beach you told me about?"
"Yeah, it's just over those rocks."
"We have to climb over those rocks?"
"Not necessarily /over/ them, we can just to duck down around in front of them. See, there, right at the water line. We can sneak across underneath."
"Sneak?"
"Yeah. it's not illegal or anything! We just gotta duck under a bit. Otherwise you have to go out too far into the water and you'll get soaked. We really don't have time for a swim today. I just wanted to show you the view from this place. The houses on the other side of the channel are slick."
"So other than the view of expensive homes, what's so great about this spot, again? I'm sure you and your friends didn't gather here for the view."
"No tourists?" I venture innocently.
"Duo, I /am/ a tourist."
"Not anymore, you're not. You've been working here for over a month, right? So that makes you almost a local. And anyway, you're my guest."
"Guest?" His step falters momentarily. "Is this private property? Is that why we haven't seen anyone out here? We're not trespassing, are we?"
"Jeez, Heero, lighten up! I told you already, we're not doing anything illegal. It's a Tuesday afternoon; people are working and shit. It's no wonder there's no one around."
"So then why do I have to be your guest?"
"Look, you don't /have/ to be my guest, you just are. Not that I think anyone'll be out here, but sometimes the locals get a little territorial, that's all. It's our little. secret spot, I guess you could say."
"Secret spot?" There go his eyebrows! "Sounds to me like you do a sight more than swimming if you need a /secret/ spot to do it in."
"Straight to the point, huh?"
"Just curious."
I laugh. The guy is sharper than a tack and blunt as all get out. "Yeah well, maybe when I was younger, me and the guys /might/ have done some not-so-legal stuff here."
"Like what?"
"Aw nothing major. You know, just teenage stuff. We'd get some booze or someone would bring some weed and we'd just hang. Sometimes the guys would bring their girls and." I wiggle my eyebrows at him and he raises that damned eyebrow again in response.
"You had sex on the beach?" This time his whole face scrunches up to express his intense dislike of the idea.
"Well, I don't know if they actually had sex. It's not like we all got together and had orgies." I shake my head at him. "Here, hold this a minute."
I hand over the pack with the few things we brought to see if we can get around the rock without having to wade in too far. I only bump my head twice while crossing and the water barely reaches my knees. When I make it to the other side, I step back and call over the rocks at him.
"OK Heero, toss the bag over and then come across. Just keep your head down and your back against the overhanging part. You should be fine."
"Ready?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
I catch the bag and step back to the edge of the water. I see his feet and legs being lapped at by the waves but he's not moving. "You coming?"
"Yep."
He steps away from the water's edge and I wonder if he's going to try to climb over. Before I can warn him about just how rough those rocks are, though, I see him head straight into the surf and wade in about hip deep.
"Heero you'll get soaked!" But my warning is too late and by the time he rounds the edge of the rock, I see that the water is half way up his chest and his shorts and shirt are in hand and overhead.
For a moment I'm frozen in place. My God has he stripped down just to get in the water? This guy has no body shyness at all! As if it wasn't bad enough when he answered the door in his underwear when I went to pick him up! I swear to God I about had a heart attack. And then, he spends the next twenty minutes ever so casually puttering around the kitchen, offering coffee and toast and 'would you like some butter on that?', while he licks it from his fingers. Fuck! Butter. Like my brain had needed any more stimulation than it was already getting. I'd had to avert my eyes so fast I almost gave myself whiplash in the process. I could have sworn he'd been smirking when he'd finally gone upstairs to get dressed.
And now this! My body's still making all sorts of mental - and physical - leaps, trying to wrap itself around it all when he begins to walk back up to shore. It's only now that I see he hasn't stripped bare; he's left his underwear on. His black, skin tight, plastered wet on that damned body underwear. I have a hard time strangling down the thoughts that come bubbling back up. Damn!
Time to avert the eyes again, says the brain, lest we be caught ogling. I turn and make like I'm looking for a good spot to set our things down. A good spot - as if. It's just him, me and butt-load of sand here.
"Here OK with you?"
"Yeah, anywhere's fine." Out of the corner of my eye I see him putting his clothes on the rocks.
"I'm actually kind of hungry, can we eat now?"
"Sure, sure. We can eat."
.my heart out! Damn, this guy is fine looking. And he's going to be sitting here half naked - no, pardon me, nine-tenths naked - and wet. Shit, I don't know whether to rejoice or be depressed. It's like the man has suddenly gone into tantalizing mode. Ever since last weekend, it feels like everything he's said and done has been weirdly. sensual. OK, maybe that's just me reading into things, but shit, this is getting ridiculous.
It's a struggle to get my heartbeat back to sub-NASCAR speeds. I pointedly ignore him when he sits down. Methodically, I pull things from the pack, laying them out between us on the one towel we brought.
I'm not looking. I'm not looking. I'm not looking.
"Do you mind if I sketch a little while we eat?"
From the corner of my eye - I'm not looking - I see him wave the pad in the air.
"Nah, go'head." Ham on white has never held my interest the way it does today. Not looking!
He flips the book open to a clean page and takes a look around. "So, you were saying?"
"Um? What were we talking about, again?"
Like I can remember! Especially when, wet dream that you are, you're gonna be sitting right next to me. Wet. In underwear. Thin, clingy, sexy, wet underwear. Not looking.
"About having sex."
"Excuse me?"
God tell me I did not just say /any/ of that out loud.
"About you guys bringing your girlfriends here to maybe have sex. Did you bring any girlfriends here?"
"Oh, I uh. no. No, I didn't bring any girls here to have sex. Why were we talking about this?"
And can we, /please/, change the subject.
"You brought it up."
"Oh, yeah. I did, didn't I?"
Yeah, before you got half naked and distracted me damn it! Shit! I'm not looking.
He's chuckling quietly at my discomfort. "So were you a virgin? In high school?"
"No! I. Look Heero, I'm not into exhibitionism, OK? If I was going to do it with anyone, I did it discreetly. And I didn't sleep around either. I only had one steady late in my senior year and we, uh. did it in a bedroom, OK?"
Yes in my own room to be precise, and he practically mauled me, but I'm not mentioning that.
Pencil still poised against the paper, he looks up at one of the houses. Then, after shooting a quick glance in my direction, he bends over the paper again.
Hmm. I never noticed before that some soda cans have these little ridges at the top of the can. I leave off studying my can when I notice him staring straight at me.
"Sorry?"
"A classmate?" From the look on his face, he's repeating himself.
"No. A customer actually." I look away and suddenly realize how bad that might sound. I turn back to him, shaking my head to deny whatever he might have made of that stupid comment. "Someone I met while doing deliveries for the sushi joint we went to. Remember I mentioned I'd done delivery for them one summer?"
"Ah yes." He nods and turns back to his pad, blocking in some lines to give his sketch size perspective. Suddenly, his whole upper body shakes with a silent chuckle. "Gives new meaning to the words 'thirty minutes or less', no?"
"Heero!"
He forestalls my indignation with a sincere sounding 'Sorry', but there's still a hint of amusement in his features. "I'm sure you didn't do anything inappropriate during work hours."
"Damn straight, bubba!"
"I should know you well enough to know you would never", he pauses just long enough to make eye contact, "lay down on the job."
My only answer is a groan. He has the most demented sense of humor and his deadpan delivery just seems to add to the strangeness.
"Can we, please, not continue discussing Duo Maxwell's /limited/ high school sex life."
"Sorry, just making conversation."
He puts the pad down and picks up his sandwich. I hope this line of conversation has finally been put to rest. At least I no longer need to concentrate so hard on not looking at him. Oops. So much for not thinking about those things.
"It's nothing to be embarrassed about, you know. I was a virgin until I got to college."
He smiles shyly at me but it doesn't really do anything to ease my discomfort. I guess he realizes after a minute that I don't really want to continue this conversation so he prompts, "What do you want to talk about then?"
"How 'bout we talk about you. You know practically my whole history." Except the boyfriend part, I append silently. "When and where I worked, where I went to school, where I lived, who I lived with, who I grew up with. But I barely know anything about you. Except for what I've picked up from eavesdropping on your phone calls."
"You've been eavesdropping on my telephone calls?"
"Well. it is kind of hard not to listen when you talk to your boss on the speaker phone with me in the same room. And of course there's that little matter of your disgruntled look when he mentions that his little darling is coming to the resort on vacation in a few weeks."
"Must you continue to bring that up?"
"Is she that bad?" I can't help but laugh at the face he makes whenever I bring it up. And by the looks of it now, he does not find my amusement over the situation even remotely humorous.
"What was it you wanted to know about me?" He asks, not quite pulling off the innocent look.
I knew he would try to change the topic but I say nothing, giving him a look that clearly indicates I'm wise to his tactics but refuse to budge.
"Fine." He sighs dramatically. For effect, I think. "What do you want to know about her?"
"Well for starters, what's with the ulcer face every time her name comes up? Is she some horrible hag of a woman? Disfigured? Goulish? Uber-nerd with coke-bottle glasses? Or a total harpy, dragon-bitch kind of wench?"
He shakes his head, but more out of amusement and disbelief, I think, than anything else.
"She's." he purses his lips together - rather cutely I notice - and struggles with what to say. "She's cute, really. I guess you could say she's an attractive girl. In a naïve, cheerleader sort of way. She's very bright. And actually, she's kind of nice. just slightly annoying."
"Cute and kind of nice. And only slightly annoying? This doesn't seem like a great cause for concern."
"She likes me!"
It's my turn to raise an eyebrow. "Yeah, so? What's the big deal? I think you're a nice enough guy, now that I've gotten to know you; so does most the staff. And your roommate must like you."
"She's obsessed with me, OK? It was bad enough when we were at school and she'd follow Trowa around just to have an excuse to run into me, but at least I didn't have to be in the same building with her for eight hours a day. Now Trowa and I have to constantly lock our office door to be able to get any peace and quiet. She's always coming up with reasons to come by our department. She follows me around the office. She maneuvers herself to be responsible for her department's deliverables on my projects so she can have an excuse to schedule 'consultations' with me. I mean really, Duo, the week before I left, every time I turned a corner she was there. watching me. It was downright creepy."
"I take it you really don't like this chick?"
"It's not that, it's just." He shrugs and thinks about it for a moment. "No. Not in the way I know she likes me. Not at all!"
Can I just say that I am totally down with that!
After a few moments' silence, he looks up at me again with a hopeful gleam in his eye. "So. What was it you wanted to talk about again?"
I laugh outright this time, and his face takes on that little boy look I so love seeing. I figure it's about time for me to let him off the hook and allow the subject change.
"Oh, I don't know. Tell me about how you hooked up with this Trowa guy and about your other friends. How you ended up working for the father of a girl you obviously have no intention of dating and apparently don't like all that much."
"OK. And I don't exactly dislike her, she's just. well, the whole 'smitten' thing is a little disconcerting."
And so he talks and we eat. And I learn about Trowa, the gymnast, architecture and art design student, who lived across the hall from him first semester freshman year. How they ended up trading roommates before their first holiday break without a blessing from residence halls because their original roommates were both waste cases and they were both studious. How they met and befriended the infamous Relena, daughter of Mr. Dorlain, partner in their firm. How they got an apartment together as second semester sophomores - the same one they lived in until moving to a better one recently. How they interned together, graduated together and went to work at the same firm together.
It dawns on me that even if he does like guys and had known I did too - and it wasn't something I think he'd picked up on yet - it didn't look like it'd be doing me much good. I was starting to think maybe he and Trowa were more than just friends.
And damn, but this man is gorgeous! I can't help but look at him while he speaks - I mean, it's rude not to look at someone that's talking to you, right? - but after a few minutes of hearing about his life, all I can think is 'damn he's hot'. I'm enthralled just watching him! The angle of his jaw and the movement of his neck as he speaks. The way the muscles in his shoulders and back shift as he leans to get chips out of the bag. Shit! He's the frickin' statue of David come to life! I watch the muscles on his arm when he lifts the sandwich to his mouth. And that mouth!
".was nice of them, don't you think?"
I reluctantly tear my eyes away from his lips and make brief eye contact before staring at the soda can I've been sipping from. I'm pretty sure that last comment was a question and the expectant look on his face pretty much confirms it, but I'll be damned if I can remember what he said. All I vaguely remember hearing was 'nice' somewhere earlier in the conversation and thinking damned straight those lips are nice!
"Uh, yeah, that's nice. Real nice."
He bursts out laughing so hard and so suddenly I'm afraid he might bust a gut. Guess that was the wrong answer! He's almost doubled over from laughing and I can't help but wonder at what I might have missed.
"I'm sorry." He covers his face with one hand and holds up the other between us. He's still laughing, but seems to be trying to control it. "I'm sorry." He repeats and tries again to stifle the laughter.
I keep staring at him, soda can halfway to my mouth, and wonder when I'll find out just what the hell I agreed to.
"Oh God, Duo. I am so sorry. I haven't laughed so hard in a long time."
"Hey, no problem. Glad I could be of assistance. Though I'm not sure what-all I said that was so funny."
Nobody likes to be the butt of someone else's joke, and even though I usually handle it pretty well, I'm starting to worry here. He's kind of scaring me.
"Oh, but it was!" He starts chuckling and I have to wonder again at what I missed. "Maybe we should go back to talking about you. Apparently my life is a little boring." He picks up his soda can and proceeds to drain it.
For a moment I am distracted by his body again until his words filter through to what's left of my functioning brain. "No! Why? I want to hear it! Why would you think you're boring me?"
"Duo, you just agreed that having two circus freaks take me in and adopt me at the age of 23 was 'Real nice'. Either you have some strange ideas about what adult life should be or you weren't listening."
Oops!
"And since I already know that you very firmly believe that kids should take responsibility for themselves as soon as they can." He cocks his head to the side and smirks.
Busted.
Damn his smile is disarming despite being laced with a little sarcasm. "Right." I grimace and he huffs a laugh for my benefit.
"It's OK. I know I'm boring. Some people aren't all that good at telling stories and apparently I'm one of them."
"No, God Heero, I'm the one that should be sorry. I."
Let my libidinous mind get the best of me while you were talking?
"I just got a little distracted."
By your incredibly sexy body?
"Sorry! God I can't believe I was so rude. I just did one of those mental tangent things. You know, you said something that made me think of something else, that made me remember something else, then I thought of another related thing, then."
He's looking at me like I've lost my mind. OK, time to get the conversation back on track and on him. Quick. But what to ask?
"So. I imagine you must have been real popular on campus. What with your brooding good looks and your quiet, mysterious nature."
He grunts his disagreement, but I forge ahead.
"Come on, you're gonna tell me your boss's daughter was the only one following you around. That you didn't have hordes of admirers clamoring for a date with you?"
"Actually, I didn't really date."
"I thought you said you lost your virginity in college."
"I did. But that's not the same as dating."
"One night stands, Heero? I wouldn't've thought you the type!"
He snorts a smirk. Whether it's amusement at my reaction or at his own situation, I'm not sure. "Not quite that either." He finally shrugs.
"Then what /was/ it?"
"It was." he shrugs again, "hard to say, actually."
This only serves to spike my curiosity. I rub my hands together briskly, grinning for all I'm worth. "Oh! I like the sound of that. Have I, perchance, stumbled upon a 'Yuy secret'?"
His reaction encourages me even more. That boyish, almost bashful, smile of his comes fully to the forefront. If I'm not mistaken, there might even be a hint of color on his cheeks as he looks down and away. It startles an evil laugh out of me.
"Hoo now!" I point a finger right in his face. "Now you've really got to tell!"
"There isn't much to tell."
He stalls by taking a sip from his soda and I wait him out. My face clearly indicates that I expect an explanation. Guess it takes him a few minutes to figure out how to tell it without it sounding too bad. Finally, mustering his courage, he shoots me a sideways glance before staring back out at the water.
"Logistically speaking, 'dating' implies that there's a relationship of sorts. It usually involves planned outings, public appearances, some form of affectionate contact, the expectation of a recurrence - things like that. And usually with only the one person."
I nod my understanding. "Holding hands, dinner and a movie, the 'significant other'. Got it. So?"
"So it wasn't really like that for me." He struggles again for the right words. "I guess you could say I had sexual encounters with people. People I'd met while tutoring at the lab or in a class or at a lecture. I knew them, they knew me. There would've been a comment or a look, some spark of interest, at some point. And sooner or later, we'd end up in bed together. There was never anyone 'special' or 'significant'." He shakes his head, as if to say he can't explain it any other way.
"You make it sound tawdry, Heero. Like you were trolling for conquests." I let loose a nervous little laugh, I hadn't really meant to share that stray thought aloud.
"It wasn't really like that, though. It may not sound like the most wholesome situation - and it wasn't, really - but it's not like I was bedding half the student population at any given time, either. There was just the occasional. event. Something that happened every now and again. I'd have a few experiences with one person and then they'd move on. All told, there were only a handful of people."
He looks mildly embarrassed now, concentrating on the soda can, turning it round and round in his hands. I feel guilty for teasing him about it so I offer the only kind of support I can think of - what's grown to be a habit between us. I give him a little shove with my arm. He's sitting far enough away that if I try to bump shoulders with him it might topple us both. Much as I'd like to be /toppling/ with him, it's not what he needs right now.
"I totally understand," I tell him. "You know, been there, done that. Or at least, close."
He turns a surprised, slightly hopeful, look at me. "Really?"
I breathe out a reluctant sigh. "Yeah." I'd prefer not to share this information either, but I guess it's only fair. One for one and all that. "I tried dating a bit in high school but it. just didn't work out for me."
"But you had-"
My first time, yeah. I nod to let him know I know what he meant.
"/That/ was my one official dating experience. And it did not end well. After that it rarely ever 'escalated' again." It's my turn to shrug. Embarrassed more by what I didn't do - refused to do - than what I did.
"So you've only-?"
"Just that once? No. Technically more than once, and more than one person all told, but. yeah only the one real dating experience. And I've spent years battling to get past it. Not that I still harbor feelings for."
I stop, surprised at the hint of anger still lingering and in fear that I'd almost let slip the word 'him'. "Like I said, it didn't go well and I've never quite let myself trust anyone like that again."
He laughs suddenly, cheeks tinged the slightest bit of red. "My first one was pretty disastrous too." Turning wide eyes at me, he confides quietly. "I didn't have the slightest fucking idea what I was doing. It was an RA from my building the first summer I was there. It was probably like one of those really bad pornos with the Young Innocent and the Older Experienced partner."
We both laugh at his description of it.
"At least you learned from it and moved on. And unless you were lying through your teeth five minutes ago, you didn't seem to have any serious problems on future attempts. I don't think I'll ever recover fully from 'my first'. It still tops the Duo's Disastrous Decisions list."
He nods half-heartedly at my assessment, finally whispering 'I guess' after a bit. If he's anything like me he's probably turning those memories over and over in his head. We both sit quietly for a while, watching the waves.
"There was this. girl, once." Something about that comment is amusing enough to make him stop and chuckle.
Furiously ignoring the little voice whispering in my head that his statement confirms I have no chance in hell with him, I venture into better known territory. I grin. "Relena?" I am innocence personified in the asking.
"No," he replies sternly, tossing me a disgruntled frown that acknowledges my editorial comment for what it was. "My freshman year."
"But not your first?"
"Technically. No."
Technically? What the hell? Unless- he's talking again.
"She showed up at the math lab one day, looking for help with some homework problems."
"Wait! You worked at the math lab your freshman year?"
"Yeah? My advisor recommended me. I scored well enough on my placement test to CLEP out of my first few math requirements."
"You're a math geek!" I accuse, pointing my finger and laugh riotously.
"I've already told you what living with my uncle was like, I don't see why you're so shocked."
"Sorry. You're right." I try to school my face into a more serious and attentive _expression. "Go ahead, so what happened with this chick?"
He raises that damned eyebrow at me again, but continues with his story. "Well, I was the only available tutor that first time she showed up; so I helped her. Or at least I think it was the first time she'd shown up, it was the first time I'd ever seen her there asking for help. I explained the exercise and had her do a few extra problems, but when we were done she wouldn't leave. That in and of itself was extremely unusual because people always left once they'd gotten what they'd come for. But she didn't; she /wouldn't/. And even though I started working on my own homework again, she just kept talking to me and asking me questions. She hung around for over hour. I finally decided it was close enough to the end of my shift and made an excuse about having to go to class just so she'd leave me alone."
"I take it that it didn't end there?"
"Hardly. It was about a week before I saw her again and then all of a sudden she was there every time I worked. At first I thought it was just coincidence, you know - that maybe she'd hit a really difficult spot on her course load and she was struggling. But then I began to notice that she always waited for me to be free to help her, or she'd show up with her homework all done and ask me to review and correct it. And wherever she'd made a mistake, it was always something really stupid, something she'd done right on other problems."
Oh God, I was right; he did have women stalking him for his looks. "She was deliberately making those mistakes, right?"
"Yes!" He looks shocked that I figured it out so quickly.
I wave it off, wanting him to get to the heart of it. "And then?"
"And then. I don't know. I guess I got used to her; she'd become part of my routine. It became less distracting when she talked while I did my homework. And sometimes, if I had no homework, I'd help her with her other classes or we'd pass the time ragging on our professors. Then one day, as I'm closing up the lab, she asks me to walk her back to her room. On the way there, I kept wondering if she'd meant just 'walk her back' because it was dark out or if she'd meant 'back to her room' because she wanted me to come inside."
He stops again, to take a drink, and I have just enough time to wonder at the way the voices in my head keep waffling. Earlier part of me was convinced he had something going on with Trowa, then part of me was convinced he was straight. Right now there seems to be a major debate, and not the tiniest bit of hope, on the chance that he swings both ways.
"So what was the verdict?"
"Inside. All the way." He shakes his head for a few silent moments.
"Heero! What happened?"
"It was awful. She went straight from telling me her roommate was away for a few days to sticking her hand down my pants." He covers his face and continues the tale in embarrassed mumbles. "I was so nervous, so scared shitless; but you know, the human body has a mind of it's own. Before I knew it we were half naked and I was wearing a condom. And then-" He looks up suddenly and motions forcefully with his hands. A rather obvious, thrusting motion. His face is priceless. "We were-"
"Doing the Horizontal Bop? Bumpin' Uglies? Doin' the Nasty? Making the Mo' Better?"
He purses his lips. "Nice terminology," he deadpans, "but yes."
I love his tone of voice when he doesn't quite appreciate my more colorful vocabulary. And I can't help but tease him a little. "You did the deed?"
"I did," he says sadly. "It was awful, but I did." He laughs, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. "You don't understand, Duo, it was - quite literally - my second time and I had no fucking clue what to do with a woman's body."
The sudden and vacuous silence in my head following that statement could very well be a first for me. Previous debate over, new debate up for grabs. What exactly does he mean? Is he just suggesting he was extremely inexperienced or that his first time was with a guy? Could I be misinterpreting this? Do I dare hope? Can I even ask that question? Hell, I can't even look at him right now, much less ask that.
"But Heero, you'd."
"Yes, yes, I know," he cuts me off quickly, "I'd had sex before. But it was nothing like my first time! I'd had Health class in high school, you know. I knew perfectly well it all boiled down to 'insert Tab A into Slot B, C or D'."
I choke out a laugh at that. "They taught you about C and D in Health class?" Doesn't take much of an imagination to wonder at what D could be. Process of elimination and all that.
He grunts. "It was a progressive school. They wanted to be sure we were aware of all the. options."
Progressive indeed! "Right. So you were schooled in the. alternatives."
"Yeah. But knowing and doing are quite a different thing. I had no clue my first time and I couldn't have been doing anything right the second either. And yet she was thrashing around and calling my name and. and all I could think was 'end it, end it, end it, end it'. It's a miracle I managed to finish at all. I was up and out of there so fast when it was over, it wasn't even funny."
He shoots me a sideways glance that I catch out of the corner of my eye. I nod as he takes a sip from his soda, staring intently at the houses on the opposite shore.
"So you and she didn't."
He shakes his head. "Just that once was enough. I never saw her again. After that I kept to myself for a while, until I ran into. my first again and we hooked up for a while."
"I thought you said you didn't date."
"We didn't. All we did was have sex every once in a while. We'd meet after a lecture or run into each other on campus, go to one of our rooms. and have sex. I did learn a lot. I figured out what I liked and didn't like, learned to give and receive pleasure, figured out what I wanted in a partner. Eventually, though, we parted ways. I never." He shrugs, taking another drink from his soda. "We didn't even kiss good-bye or anything. Our last conversation. was weird. We ran into each other one day and I offered, hinted really, to go somewhere." He looks back out over the water, quietly completing the tale: "I got turned down and that was it. Never ran into 'em again."
I take a page from his book and grunt an acknowledgement. We sit and stare at the water for a while, no comments, no movement. I don't even notice when Heero picks his pad up and starts sketching again.
I could read a lot into that story if I wanted to. All the references to his 'first' were eerily similar to mine: darned generic in the telling. But the truth is I'm not even sure if I do want to read something into it. Oh, sure, I want to know; the debate is raging so fiercely it's burning a hole in my brain. But then I keep thinking 'be careful what you wish for'. Despite the occasional, hormonally induced, mental lapses - like the ones earlier today - I've already made the decision that this is a friendship worth keeping, worth nurturing.
Why complicate things by voicing my questions? What purpose could it possibly serve? Best to let it be. If he's not gay, we're still friends and it won't matter when he finds out I am. At least I don't think it'll matter. And if he is, then it'll come out eventually and some day we'll look back on this conversation and laugh at how we tip-toed around it.
What will happen, will happen.
What's meant to be, is meant to be.
Que sera, sera.
Sometimes, being all philosophical and Zen about things is really hard work.
"You're thinking again." He's bent over his sketch, pencil scratching away. I catch him glance at me.
"Surprised?"
He smiles but shakes his head slightly. "When you think too hard, you get a certain look on your face."
"I do?"
"Yeah, you crunch your right eyebrow and tighten up the corners of your mouth. I've noticed."
"I /think/ many times a day, actually, and I don't think I always make a face."
"True. And while I'm sure I'm not there to watch you every time you happen to have a thought, when you're concentrating, lost in thought, you do it."
I wonder if what he says is true and instantly catch myself doing it, contorting my face in a not-quite-grimace of concentration. Since he's watching me now, he laughs. He's right and he knows I know it. He doesn't actually verbalize a response but the raised eyebrow and crooked smirk clearly say: 'See!'
I shove at his arm and grumble for him to shut up. The smirk turns into that great boyish smile as he focuses on his sketch again. I watch quietly as seemingly random lines come together to form the prominent features of another house.
"Hey Heero, what are you doing this Sunday night?"
"Huh?" He stops his sketching and shoots me a sideways glance.
"This Sunday, do you have any plans for dinner?"
"Uh, no. Isn't the festival this weekend? I'll probably just have dinner in my room afterward."
"No, the festival's only on Saturday - just the one day. It's more like a big block party than a real festival. So you have no plans? Good, cancel the room service though. Join me for dinner?"
"Sure, I'd love to." He smiles widely at me and, for the tiniest moment, I am elated. The look on his face is enough to triple my heart rate. "Are we having dinner with The Girls again?"
Great! Shot down before I even got up in the air. It's not the thought of spending time with me that has him smiling; it's the thought of spending time with The Girls. Not two months ago, I never would have imagined that the slightly uptight stranger who'd come to live at our quiet little resort would have enjoyed the company of the old gals so much. Oh well. At least I'll get to watch him all night, laughing, talking and smiling. Better than nothing, I suppose.
"Yeah, actually we're doing a Swing Night in the big dining room. I know The Girls would just love it if you joined us."
And damn it, but so would I.
So would I.
End Part 7
(:./bm/splendor7)
