by: Zillie
posted with: get well wishes for dacia ;)
warnings: ooc, au, sexual fantasies, random talk of souls and whatnot, and still no real plan or structure to this. it's just fluffy funness, for me at least ;)
feedback: *cow eyes* *sheep eyes* *puppy eyes* . . . and someone mentioned fanart?????? ;)

read it and ENJOY!!!

Having His Zucchini + Part 4

"I'm not telling you what my ultimate sexual fantasy is."

Quatre pouted, leaning against the locker next to Duo's with a feral grace. "You're going to have to tell Heero this afternoon, anyway. Why not practice by telling me?" He let his gaze wander over the other boy. "Or by trying it out on me?"

Duo resisted the urge to shut his locker and storm away.

Quatre was not the kind of person you wanted to let know when he had gotten to you. "All right. Fine. It involves a pair of
Scandinavian twins and some Japanese triplets, two feather boas, one pair of nunchucks, a volleyball, and Cher singing in the background."

Quatre blinked. "You're kidding."

Duo shrugged.

"I did that! Last summer!" He grinned. "I even have pictures if you want to see!"

"Yeah," Duo said. "Right."

"Well. . . maybe not exactly that. . . ," Quatre admitted.

Duo nodded, making a face at his Geometry book.

"I guess it was actually Bryan Adams we were listening to." Quatre's grin widened. "Sven wasn't too fond of it, but Olaf, Takeo, and Shinichi were all inspired by a rousing rendition of `The Summer of 69.' "

"What about Ken? Or Hirohito, or whatever his name was?" Duo asked scornfully.

"Ichiro? I don't know. He usually had his mouth too full to comment."

Duo gave in and slammed the locker door, and glared at Quatre. Undaunted, the other boy winked back at him.

"My father sent me to diplomat camp," Quatre said seriously. "I was just trying to promote friendly relationship between different nations!"

Duo rolled his eyes, but gave in and smiled. He began walking down the hall; Quatre fell into step beside him. "So what turns you on?" he asked the blonde boy.


"What makes you think of sex, then?"

"Being awake." Quatre paused, obviously thinking that over. "I take it back. I think of it when I'm asleep, too." He shrugged. "Really, I'm very simple in my motivations. If I'm not supposed to do it, I enjoy doing it. That's all there is to it." His eyes seemed to turn inward. "Though there is this thing that Trowa does with the very tip of his tongue that doesn't make life. . . less interesting." They stepped outside the school; Quatre swung around to face Duo. "So, Duo. What is it that you think about when you reach down and take matters into your own right hand?"

"Nothing," Duo said, continuing to walk. He shot a glance over his shoulder at Quatre, and winked. "I'm left handed."


It was a very simple fantasy, really; one that he was vaguely ashamed of. He felt like he should be fantasizing about Scandinavian twins and volleyballs; instead, he had a fantasy that seemed better suited to the heroine of a romance novel. "Sheets," Duo said.

Heero looked puzzled. "A sheet fetish?"

"No," Duo said, and sighed, and wished that he'd lied and talked about the nunchucks instead. "Something about the idea of clean sheets turns me on. I guess it's the idea of being licit, and allowed." He looked down. "Mostly when I kiss someone it's got to be very hidden. I like the idea of sharing a bedroom with someone and having it be. . . normal."


The sound got less annoying, Duo noticed. He managed to look up again. "What about you?"

Heero's eyes met his emotionlessly. "Long hair."

Duo looked down again.

"I'm ticklish behind my knees."

Duo flushed, as if he'd been caught trying to look through the table. "I'm really sensitive right behind my ears."

"In your hair, you mean?"

"No. . . in the soft part right under the earlobes."

Heero reached out. "Here?"

Duo's eyes flew up; his eyes linked with the other boy's. His mouth dried, and he was suddenly aware that he had never before felt the way you were supposed to feel when someone touched you. His body stirred; his heart stopped. His eyes felt swollen, his mind stupid.

"There," he said hoarsely.

Slowly, Heero reached out with his other hand, and found the same spot on the other side of Duo's head.

The braided boy closed his eyes, hideously aware of a certain sense of finality within him. He opened his eyes again and stared at Heero.

He knew then that he could never again pretend that he wasn't gay.

Heero studied the look of his hands against the paler skin of Duo's face; he slid his hands up, and wove them into the top of the braid. He scooted his chair closer.

The phone rang.

"Heero!" Annabell sounded close; Duo pulled back, pulled away. Heero simply stared at him.

"Heero," Annabell repeated, appearing in the doorway. "Odin is on the phone for you."

Heero didn't spare a look for his mother. "Tell him I'm not here."

"I already told him you were." Annabell sighed angrily. "You have to talk to him."

Heero squeezed his lips together, and stood abruptly. "I'll be right back," he said, and left the room without ever looking Annabell in the eyes.

"Heero. . . and his father. . . don't entirely get along," Annabell explained. She smiled tightly at him. "If you'll excuse me."

Duo smiled weakly back. After she had left, he placed his hand flat on the table. It shuddered; the movement wracked his body for a second, and he took a sharp breath.

On the table, Hephzibah gleamed a bright green.


Later that night, Sister Helen came in to check on him while he was doing his homework. "You're working hard," she observed.

"It's hard work," he countered, leaning back in his chair.

She sat on the bed and smiled at him. "You look tired yourself," he told her.

"The first few weeks are always tiring," she said. "But they're also always exciting." She stifled a yawn.

He yawned in sympathy. "I like it here," he offered impulsively, trying to cheer her.

"I'm glad," she said; then her eyes fell on something past him and she frowned a little.

Duo's eyes followed her gaze; straight to the packet on sexual fulfillment that Mrs. Elephant had handed out earlier.

"An interesting addition to the curriculum," Sister Helen managed. She stood, forestalling his explanation with a look. "You were the one who decided against Catholic high school, and I respect that. But sometimes I fear that our schools teach too much about the mechanics of sex and not enough about the ethics."

"Sister, I'm not doing anything stupid. It's just for class."

"I know that, and I know you, which is why I'm not going to get too upset here," she said with a small smile. "You're a good kid, Duo; as long as you can approach God with respect for yourself, then I will respect you, too."

"Sister," he said, his mind full of Quatre and Heero; "you think that sex is a sin."

"That's a drastic oversimplification," she said, stroking his hair with the familiar hands that had braided those same strands a thousand times. "I believe that sex without God in mind is a sin, and that packet isn't going to help you understand that sex is about more than just bodies and reproduction."

"Not everything is about God," he said, feeling strangely torn; half of him seemed to be sitting there, being petted by the closest thing to a mother he had; the other half was floating in some white ether, and if he had been able to feel, he would have been overwhelmed with fear that he would never recombine.

"I'm not exactly unbiased on this, love, but everything is part of God. We are part of God, and everything that exists is God's gift. Even sex. How can two people created by God, part of God, do anything that isn't related to God?" She sighed, softly. "But I promised your mother that I would do my best to not think for you. If you can find sex without God, without soul, and still keep your own soul, Duo, that's fine."

"I met a boy the other day who seems to have lost his soul," he told her, thinking of Quatre's bitter laughter.

She gave him a brief, impulsive hug. "Perhaps you can help him find it."


Duo took one look at the two of them and burst out laughing.

Hilde glowered at Quatre. "When I told you yesterday that I was going to wear my `Every Zucchini a Wanted Zucchini' shirt today, I wasn't expecting you to plan your wardrobe accordingly."

Quatre grinned, smoothing down his own t-shirt (the first one that Duo had ever seen him wear), which read "I WANT YOUR ZUCCHINI." "Any publicity is good publicity!" he said cheerfully.

Hilde rolled her eyes and turned back to Duo, who was sitting at his desk waiting for first period to begin. Like a good boy. "You missed the rally yesterday."

"I had homework," he said.

Hilde perched on his desk. "The sexual fantasies thing? Possibly the best homework ever. I did mine on masturbation." She stretched out a hand and admired her nails. "I said it was a feminist thing. Mrs. Oliphant is going to love it."

"When I masturbate, it's not a feminist thing," Quatre said thoughtfully. He looked around, and, having found no better place to sit, slid onto Duo's lap in much the same way that a three year old would. The look in his eyes, however, was far from innocent.

Across the room Relena Peacecraft and her groupies burst into giggles. Duo wasn't sure but he thought he heard the word `queer' being whispered.

He sighed.

The five minute warning bell rang, and Hilde dashed off.

Quatre lingered; he pressed closer to Duo. "Don't you have class?" the braided boy asked gently.

Quatre nodded.

"Don't you have it down the hall?"

The blond nodded again. His body against Duo's was ridiculously small; holding him was like holding a bird. There was the same surprising heat, the same quickly thudding heartbeat, the same feeling that you could effortlessly crush the life within your grasp. Duo sighed again. "Let's go, Cat. I'll walk you to class."

Obligingly, Quatre stood, and they walked out into the hallway. "You okay?" Duo asked awkwardly.

The blond boy looked over at him solemnly; a heartbeat later he was grinning. "Everything's good, Duo. We're still on for tomorrow, right? The park? The children? The Heero?"

Duo had seen a lot of liars, but for the life of him he couldn't tell if Quatre was lying about being all right or not. He reached out and straightened the "I WANT YOUR ZUCCHINI" tshirt almost maternally. "Yeah. Tomorrow."

Quatre's smile flashed again, brighter than the shining piercings that studded his face. "Great," he said, and leaned forward and kissed Duo's cheek before darting into class.

Watching him go, Duo once again thought of how easy it would be to crush a bird in your hand.

[part 3] [part 5] [back to Zillie's fic]