by: Aoe

Where I Started From... + Part 5

Wufei opened the door to insistent knocking, and stumbled backwards in surprise at the sight that greeted him.

Heero glowered at the Chinese boy and stepped past him into the apartment, kicking the door shut behind him, since his hands were full.

Wufei paced around Heero to glare at the longhaired slender body the boy cradled to his chest. Heero's... passenger was dressed in a garish purple mesh shirt and waves of long, dark hair. A face peered out nervously from behind the dirty, ragged bangs, and Wufei's disapproval increased at the sight. The excessive, almost mask-like make-up combined with the scanty clothing identified the person as...

"A whore?" Wufei demanded incredulously. "You go out to find Maxwell and apologize, and instead you compromise security by bringing home a cheap prostitute?" Quatre gasped in surprise, and Trowa frowned slightly at Heero's acquisition. The whore blinked wide violet eyes at Wufei. Heero growled angrily.

"Geez, Wu, no need to be rude," the whore complained in a horrifyingly familiar voice. Wufei's eyes widened in shock as he suddenly recognized Duo under the paint and tawdry wardrobe. "And I'll have you know I'm not cheap," the American continued, oblivious to Wufei's increasing pallor and Quatre's dismay. "I'm fifty bucks an hour and worth every penny," he declared proudly. Heero showed no reaction to this other than to tighten his grip slightly.

"Duo... you've been... selling yourself?" Quatre asked hesitantly. Trowa cast a confused look at the Arabian.

"Of course he has," the injured boy said conversationally. "How else did you think he was earning large amounts of cash on a nightly basis?" Trowa spoke as though it were the most natural thing in the world, as though they all should have known without thinking about it what Duo was doing out on the streets.

Heero felt a cold, hard knot form in his stomach. Somehow, once he'd recognized Duo, he'd dismissed from his thoughts the original impression he'd had of the scene back in the alley. A pimp threatening a whore. It couldn't have been, because it was Duo being threatened.

Duo was a whore.

Heero's brain really did not want to process that information.

"I don't know... I suppose I thought he was working in a bar, serving or bartending or something," Quatre murmured, flushing slightly at Trowa's slightly condescending smile.

Wufei was still staring at Duo in shock. Duo smirked at the Chinese boy and fished the wad of money he'd taken off the pimp out of his shorts. He flipped it at Wufei with a muttered, "Here. Count this."

The crumpled bills hit Wufei's chest and fluttered to the floor, completely unheeded by the stunned Chinese pilot.

Duo sighed and bumped his head against Heero's chest. "I could really use a shower," he hinted, glancing up at his transport. "My hair is full of blood and... stuff," he complained.

Heero stared back at the boy in his arms for a long moment, then said simply, "Aa." He walked around Wufei and carried Duo towards the small bathroom.

Wufei turned and watched the two of them until they disappeared down the short hall that led to the bathroom and Heero and Duo's bedroom. When he could no longer stare at Heero and Duo, he turned his wide, confused eyes to Quatre. The Arabian shrugged and glanced toward the hall, a worried frown on his face.

Trowa just shook his head at them both and turned back to the magazine he was reading.

+

When they reached the bathroom, Heero glanced around, wondering what to do with Duo while he adjusted the water temperature. He'd already realized that he'd have to help his friend shower. He could see the dark bruises forming on Duo's stomach, legs and arms, some of them beside bruises that had already been there. The American was in sad shape, and too weak to stand on his own. Heero didn't want him to fall in the tub and break his neck, so...

He figured they'd both shower in their underwear. That should satisfy propriety and allow Duo his privacy.

"Um... thanks for the ride... I'll take it from here," Duo told him with a nervous smile.

Heero frowned at him. "You can't stand up long enough to shower."

"How do you know?" Duo demanded. "Maybe I got my second wind."

Heero just snorted and draped his partner backward over the towel rack. Duo cursed and had to grab the metal bar with both hands, bracing his arms behind it, to keep himself from crumpling to the floor. "Second wind, huh?" Heero asked as he knelt and fiddled with the faucets in the tub. He quickly had the water adjusted to a comfortable warmth, and turned back to Duo, still on his knees, deciding to just go ahead with his plan without running it past Duo.

He reached out and yanked the borrowed spandex down to Duo's ankles as the American let out a startled yelp... only to discover a flaw in his plan.

Duo wasn't wearing underwear.

Heero stared dumbly at his best friend's penis for a moment, then reflexively performed the inevitable mental comparison. His was bigger.

Not that Duo's was unimpressive.

"You're not wearing underwear," Heero remarked flatly. Duo was cursing quietly and fervently to himself, but his legs simply weren't responding at all, so he couldn't cover himself that way, and if he let go of the towel rack, he'd end up sprawled in Heero's lap.

"I only have boxers. They looked weird under the spandex," Duo muttered.

Heero continued to just stare for a few moments. Then, slowly, almost of its own accord, one of his hands reached out and gently brushed the nest of auburn curls at his eye level.

"Heero?" Duo whispered nervously. This was weird. What the hell had Heero so fascinated? "What's the matter, never seen another guy's dork before?" Duo asked, striving for a humorous tone. Heero just continued to stare, and the fingers brushing Duo's pubic hair slowly moved to touch his penis. Duo gasped at the contact of those warm, callused fingers against his sensitive skin.

This was beyond weird.

He'd been attracted to Heero for a long time, but Heero had never shown any sign of being attracted to him... Duo had just about given up on hoping for anything more than friendship from the other boy. Indeed, friendship would have been enough. Would have been wonderful.

Heero stared, enraptured and confused by his own actions, as his fingers slowly caressed the soft underside of Duo's shaft. He wasn't quite sure why he was doing this. He'd touched himself like this, sometimes, although Dr. J had always punished him if he found out. Encouraging hormonal responses might distract him from the mission at a crucial moment.

It was hard not to, though.

But now he wasn't touching himself. He was touching Duo.

Although, considering the coiling warmth he felt in his groin, the effect seemed remarkably similar.

He ran his fingers up and down the underside of Duo's penis, feeling the flaccid length beginning to stiffen beneath his touch even as Duo drew a halting breath somewhere above him.

"Heero... " Duo whispered quietly, not sure if it was a question or a plea, or even what he might be asking or begging for. But... it felt good to be touched, so gently, almost reverently, by Heero, by someone he cared about. He still had no idea why Heero was doing this, but... he didn't really want him to stop.

Heero closed his hand around Duo's stiffening penis, moving his hand up and down faster, increasing the friction. Duo was growing hot and hard, responding quickly to his ministrations, and Heero felt a sort of power he had never experienced before. Duo gave out a little moan of pleasure, and Heero pumped harder, reveling in his control. He was bringing Duo pleasure with his touch, and it was pleasurable to him as well. To the boy who had known very little but pain at the hands of others, this was a revelation. One could touch without hurting. One could touch in a way that felt good.

He could touch in a way that felt good.

Duo's breath was coming in short gasps now, and the moans were more frequent. His shaft was swollen and erect, and a small bead of semen had formed at the tip.

Heero was transfixed by that drop of moisture. He felt drawn toward it, enraptured by the sight, knowing Duo was feeling the same glorious pressure that Heero himself was, and here was the proof.

An impulse gripped him, to show affection somehow... and all he could think of was Duo's teasing over the past few months. Those occasional, unexpected brushes of soft lips against his skin. Heero smiled slightly to himself and leaned forward, pressing his lips lightly to the quivering tip of Duo's rigid penis. Duo groaned louder, and Heero gave in to another impulse and parted his lips, slipping his mouth over the end of Duo's shaft and encasing it in the warm wet cavity. His tongue flicked against the tip, tasting the bitter, salty fluid...

And then Duo's hips thrust forward, forcing the swollen penis further into Heero's mouth, and Heero found his mouth suddenly full of the hot liquid. Surprised and shocked out of his strange detachment, he pulled his head away from Duo's penis, spitting out the mouthful of semen even as Duo continued to orgasm, the pale, sticky fluid splattering in Heero's hair, across his face, and onto his tank top.

Duo sagged from the towel rack, knees now hopelessly reduced to rubber and a goofy smile on his face for a moment. With a sigh, his eyes fluttered open to see Heero kneeling before him, staring in surprise and mild disgust at the milky substance that liberally decorated his hair, skin and clothing.

Duo couldn't repress an amused snort. Heero glared up at him, although without the usual degree of homicidal fury.

"Now we both need a shower," Duo declared helpfully, unable to contain his wide grin. Heero carefully wiped a splatter of semen from his cheek and made a face at his dirty fingers, grunting in agreement. He stood up and quickly stripped off his clothes, leaving his black cotton briefs on as he dumped the soiled shirt and shorts into the sink. Duo noted with amusement that Heero hadn't been startled enough by the results of his actions that he'd ruined his own enjoyment. The black spandex sported a thoroughly wet crotch. Heero ran some water into the sink and left the clothes to soak. He turned back to Duo, who was smirking wickedly, but Heero refused to be distracted again, and quickly finished stripping Duo of his clothes, tossing them into the sink as well. He pulled off Duo's boots and the leather belts and wristbands, then toed off his own sneakers, and manhandled his friend into the tub.

Of necessity, they had to face one another so the water could rinse through Duo's hair. Heero carefully kept his gaze focused on Duo's left ear and tried to ignore the obvious fact that Duo was naked and pressed against him, and he was wearing only very wet cotton briefs...

Duo was not even attempting to ignore this fact. He had never in a million years expected anything like what had just happened to happen, but it had... But now, Heero seemed embarrassed by the whole thing. Only natural, Duo supposed, especially since it was pretty obvious Heero had never done anything of the sort before. But still, he could at least look at me...

"Heero?" Duo asked hesitantly.

Heero abruptly turned Duo to face the wall and lifted one of the American's hands to the soapdish at about shoulder level. "Hold that, I'll wash your hair," Heero said flatly.

Duo bit his lip at the tone, but didn't dare protest. He hung on to the soapdish for dear life as Heero released his grip on Duo's waist. After a moment, Duo could feel his wet hair being lifted. "Some of it's still braided," he said quietly, keeping his voice carefully free of inflection. Who knew what mood Heero was in now?

Heero replied simply, "Aa," having already discovered the smaller braid concealed by the loose hair. He worked the band off and carefully unplaited the long hair. When it was all hanging in one dark mass down to below Duo's buttocks, which was a mercy Heero was grateful for, he grabbed the shampoo bottle and squeezed out a liberal handful. For the sake of his self-control, as well as because it was the most efficient method, Heero decided to start at the top and work his way down.

The sounds of pleasure Duo made at Heero's fingers massaging the shampoo into his scalp made the Japanese boy frown. He'd been surprised out of his strange mood earlier when Duo had shot a load into his mouth, but his surprise was quickly fading beneath the warm water and the feel of soft, wet skin and silky hair under his hands...

He was going to have to take his time washing Duo's hair and hope that the evidence of his enjoyment faded before he had to attempt holding the other boy against him again.

Heero was feeling just a little bit sickened by what he had done. Not because Duo was a boy. Heero's only true prejudice was against his enemies. Not having been much educated in relationships and sexual roles, he didn't really see much difference or any particular problem in being attracted to a boy rather than a girl. It was more that... he hadn't really known he was attracted to Duo. He knew he liked being around the other boy, although Duo could be annoying at times, and he knew that he had always recognized Duo's intrinsic beauty, but that was just a simple aesthetic fact. Duo was beautiful. Anyone could see that.

But what he'd just done to Duo was not the sort of thing inspired by casual affection and objective admiration. Touching Duo had given Heero a pleasure more intense than anything he'd ever managed on his own, or even believed possible.

But he had no idea how Duo felt about it.

Oh, he knew Duo had physically enjoyed the strange little encounter, he was wearing the evidence of that... but he also knew that the human body would respond to certain physical stimuli whether a person consciously wanted it to or not.

And he had no idea if Duo had wanted him to do what he had just done, right then, or ever.

And he was terrified of finding out... either way.

He was terrified of losing his friend... and he was equally terrified of acquiring... something else. What, he couldn't be sure, but he knew it would be too strong an attachment. A liability, a weakness. And Duo was enough of one already. Hadn't Heero blatantly defied his orders already to save the American when he should have shot him?

Heero didn't know what to do, or what he wanted, or what he felt.

So he just slowly washed the blood and dirt from Duo's hair, and then the semen and sweat from his own.

Duo clung to the soapdish and fought back tears as he slowly accepted the painfully obvious fact that Heero's little experiment had just been a fluke. Why would someone like Heero, someone so strong and smart and wonderful, want a dirty, worthless street-whore junkie? Obviously, the Japanese boy, who'd been so disgusted by Duo's lack of self-control which had left him covered in semen, was not interested in discussing the incident. It had been a mistake, and Heero would not speak of it again, and Duo would be expected to let it lie as well.

Duo sighed and let his tired eyes slide closed, hanging onto the soapdish for dear life and trying to enjoy the once-in-a-lifetime experience of Heero's gentle hands washing his hair.

Too good to be true. More than he deserved.

All that he would ever have.

+

Heero ignored Duo's protests that he was feeling better after their shower and carried the American into their shared bedroom as Duo grumbled in his arms. Heero could feel the tension in the slight body he held against his chest. Duo was upset, then.

But the look he cast up at Heero when he set Duo gently on the bed made the Japanese pilot wonder exactly what Duo was upset about. Because Heero had gone too far... or not far enough? Did Duo want... more?

Heero dismissed the thought, as well as the accompanying heat it provoked in his groin, as ridiculous. Duo had been selling his body on the streets for days. He certainly wouldn't want more of the same activity at "home."

Heero carefully kept his back to his roommate as he quickly changed out of his soaked briefs, hoping Duo wouldn't be able to see the obvious evidence that Heero was quite interested in additional activity.

"Heero?" Duo asked hesitantly from behind him. Heero grunted questioningly as he zipped up a pair of uncomfortably tight jeans. It was really too hot for the heavy denim, but they were the most restraining things he owned... and he needed a little restraint at the moment.

When Duo didn't respond to his grunt, he was forced to turn and face his friend.

Who was still sitting where Heero had left him on the bed, and still wearing nothing but a small towel across his lap and yards of dripping hair.

Heero felt the jeans grow even more uncomfortable.

"What?" he asked, guessing that Duo was in one of those moods where he would not accept grunts and glares as communication. Duo was not known for his patience, but he could be infuriatingly stubborn when the impulse struck him.

In reply, Duo grabbed a handful of long, tangled hair and made a face at it. The dark violet eyes flicked nervously toward Heero. "Um. Do you think maybe you could give me a hand brushing this mess out?" Duo asked tentatively. The tense set of his shoulders betrayed his expectation of refusal, and normally, Heero would have given him what he expected. Tonight, though...

The day had been such a crazy emotional roller coaster, and Heero Yuy was not supposed to suffer from that sort of difficulty. But he'd started the day with a screaming match with his best friend, the aftermath of which had left him despondent and angry for most of the day. Then he'd spent the evening searching for Duo to apologize, an entirely new experience. Then he'd killed three men in an alley and inadvertently saved Duo from whatever they were trying to do to him. Then he'd brought Duo home and been hit in the face with the stunning revelation that the boy had been selling his body on the street to support the rest of them. And then there had been that strange interlude in the bathroom...

All this on just two and a half hours sleep.

Heero saw that while he contemplated the bizarre course of his day, Duo had given up on the idea of getting any assistance, and grabbed the brush off the nightstand beside the bed. Heero watched for a moment as the American struggled with the unwieldy mass of hair, wincing as he jarred bruises and sore ribs.

Then Heero walked over and sat on the bed, gently but firmly pulling the hairbrush from Duo's slightly trembling fingers. Heero pulled the pile of wet hair into his lap, not caring when it soaked the fabric of his jeans. The cool water was somewhat soothing on his still-uncomfortable arousal. Heero began carefully and methodically brushing out Duo's hair, from the ends up this time. By the time he had worked his way to about the middle of the incredibly long fall of hair, the upper layers were beginning to dry and float wispily about, clinging to his arms with static electricity.

Duo had slowly relaxed under his ministrations, to the point where his entire slender torso was swaying back and forth with the force of Heero's strokes with the brush. Duo was also emitting little moans and sighs of pleasure, which were doing nothing for the fit of Heero's jeans.

Finally, the monumental task was accomplished, and Heero had a new respect for Duo's patience. It certainly couldn't be as lacking as it sometimes seemed if the boy went through this ritual on a daily basis.

"Do you want it braided?" Heero asked, surprised when his voice came out slightly roughened. Duo flinched slightly at the odd note as well, and threw him a confused glance over one shoulder. But then he just nodded and turned away again.

Heero stared blankly at the cascading masses of almost-dry chestnut strands and frowned slightly to himself.

"Uh... how exactly do you do that?" he finally asked, this time managing to keep the huskiness from his voice.

Duo started slightly in surprise, then chuckled softly to himself, apparently amused by his own assumption that everyone knew how to braid hair. "First separate it into three equal parts... " he began, and carefully explained the procedure. After a few abortive attempts, Heero got the hang of the pattern, and quickly accomplished the task.

He wrapped the elastic band Duo pulled from the handle of the hairbrush carefully around the end of the immaculate braid, and couldn't resist murmuring a satisfied, "Ninmu kanryou."

Duo chuckled again, and twisted his head, craning his neck to look over his shoulder at Heero's handiwork. "Hey, nice job, Hee-chan," he commented with a pleased little grin. His eyes flicked up to regard Heero with a devilish glint. "Of course, since you mussed it all up in the bathroom, it was the least you could do," he added mockingly.

"I liked it," Heero admitted, a bit surprised at hearing himself admit such a thing. Duo blinked at him in shock, his eyes widening.

"You liked brushing my hair?" he asked with mild incredulity.

Heero cocked his head slightly, considering the question as he ran a finger down the neat length of the braid. "Yes," he said slowly, "that, too."

Duo frowned slightly in confusion. "Too?" he asked.

Heero finally met the inquisitive gaze, and was shocked to hear himself confessing, "I think I liked mussing you up even better, though."

Duo was beyond shocked. His mouth opened and closed several times, like a landed fish. His eyes were so wide that white could be seen all around the irises.

For some reason, Heero found himself fixating on the movement of those soft, full lips, still somewhat stained from the lipstick Duo had been wearing earlier. Before he realized his own intention, Heero leaned forward and gently took Duo's lower lip into his mouth. His eyes slid shut as he ran his tongue along the surprisingly soft flesh. He very carefully clamped his teeth down on the skin, not hard enough to draw blood, or even to hurt, only to hold this piece of Duo captive...

"Uh, Heero... wha' are you doeh'?" Duo mumbled after a moment. Heero's eyes snapped open to see Duo looking at him from very close up indeed, his brows drawn down over confused eyes.

Heero abruptly jerked away, barely remembering in time to unclamp his teeth so he didn't take Duo's lip away with him.

"Heero?" Duo asked cautiously as the Japanese boy stared determinedly at the floor beside the bed, his body rigid with tension.

"I don't know," Heero answered quietly. He felt his control slipping, and knew his voice would betray him if he spoke any louder. "I don't know what I'm doing," he continued in a flat monotone.

"Oh," Duo said thoughtfully. Heero continued to stare at the floor as he felt the other boy shifting beside him. He was startled when he felt Duo's fingers on his chin, but didn't resist very hard when the other boy turned Heero's face back towards his own. Duo's eyes were half-lidded and dark, and there was a slight, almost predatory smile on his lips. "Well," he murmured huskily, leaning slowly towards Heero, "my guess would be you were trying to do... this."

And Duo brushed his lips gently against Heero's closed mouth, once, twice, then with a lingering pressure. Heero stiffened as he felt Duo's tongue gently caressing his own lips, but he instinctively parted them before the gentle pressure. Duo made a happy, rumbling sound against his mouth, and gently nudged at the barrier of Heero's teeth until the Japanese pilot finally allowed him to fully enter his mouth. Heero just sat there for a while, bemused by the sensation of Duo's lips moving against his own, even as Duo's tongue softly explored the depths of Heero's mouth. His own tongue rose to meet the intruder in instinctive defense, but Duo seemed pleased by this response, and soon their tongues were thrusting forcefully against one another. Duo's lips pressed harder against his own, and Heero responded in kind to that sensation as well, their mouths working against one another in a battle for control, but also in the mutual pleasure of exploration.

After a breathless eternity, Duo pulled gently away from the contact, and Heero stared at the other boy, feeling strangely bereft at the distance. The dull throbbing in his groin was rapidly becoming unbearable, and Heero knew soon he would have to disobey his orders again, and touch himself as he had touched Duo earlier.

Of course, when he had done that to Duo, he hadn't even needed to touch himself to find release, so technically, he hadn't disobeyed. He wondered if Duo would allow him to do it again.

"Duo... I need... " He trailed off, unsure how to phrase this request.

Duo smiled wickedly at him, running his tongue over swollen lips in a gesture that nearly made Heero whimper as his jeans seemed to grow even tighter.

"Do you?" the American asked, the smile shifting to a knowing smirk as Duo, with shocking boldness, reached out a hand and unerringly grasped the hot bulge at Heero's groin. Heero's eyes rolled back and he gasped involuntarily at the sudden contact, Duo's hand not very gently rubbing against his erection through the taut denim. He felt his body shudder in response, and decided that Duo touching him wasn't breaking orders either. Just as he thought he was going to find his relief, however, Duo's touch suddenly disappeared.

Heero's eyes flew open in shock and something like agony at the deprivation. But Duo was still smirking, and calmly ordered, "Take 'em off, babe. We're gonna do this, we'll do it right. You may not know what you're doing or what you need, but I sure as hell do."

Heero frowned at his friend. There was something jarring in Duo's manner, something too old, too practiced in his expression, his words, the way he held himself. "Duo?" he asked a bit warily. "Are you sure you want... this?"

Duo's smirk faded into a startlingly blank expression, and he just stared at Heero for a moment. Then an entirely different expression suffused the heart-shaped face, and Duo looked younger, nervous, and strangely vulnerable. "Yes, I do. I think I need it, Heero. Don't... don't you?" Duo asked hesitantly.

"I don't think I've ever wanted anything more," Heero confessed fervently.

Duo's rare genuine smile blossomed slowly on his face as he leaned in to kiss Heero again, more gently this time, with less of need and aggression, and more of affection and desire. He pulled away almost regretfully, and murmured softly, "Then let me do this for you... please, Heero... Let me do this right for once... "

Heero let his eyes slide closed and surrendered to the overwhelming sensations Duo's practiced touch was drawing from his body.

He ignored the small, cold voice within that wondered if this were a wise move or not. He'd think about that later.

[part 4] [part 6] [back to Aoe's fic]