Blurry Moon + Part Six (cont)

"Heero?" His tone was questioning, bewildered almost. It made me laugh a little louder. "Are you alright?" he asked, and I thought I heard something like concern in his voice.

"Fine," I said, regaining my control after the uncharacteristic outburst. I felt more laughter trying to claw its way out of my throat, but choked it back down. "So, why your place?"

"You've already been here," he said.

I paused. So that was where I had woken up the first time last night. I wracked my memory, trying to picture something besides the bed I had lain on, and found nothing. And Duo was doing a wonderful job of avoiding the question.

"Alright," I said. "Give me directions."

There was the sound of Duo catching his breath on the line. I don't think he expected me to agree, and truthfully, neither had I. My curiosity always seemed to get the better of me. It was a major fault.

He gave me directions, and I copied them down, then read them back to him. "What time should I be there?" I asked.

"After sunset."

That reminded me . . . . "Aren't you supposed to be . . . sleeping right now?"

He laughed quietly, and it was my turn for my breath to catch. "No, not necessarily. I usually wake in the afternoon, I don't like morning."

That was one way of phrasing it, but it didn't tell me as much as I had hoped. "Alright," I said again. "I'll . . . see you then."

Duo said goodbye, and I hung up. I stared at nothing for several minutes, trying to absorb what had just happened. I suddenly wanted to call him back and tell him no. I could have found his phone number if I looked hard enough. I was afraid, and full of nervous anticipation. I groaned softly and went back to the living room, my coffee still sitting in the middle of the table, steaming away. I ended up curling up in one corner of the couch, mug cradled in my hands and staring at the drawn curtains. I didn't open them any longer, the light was too bright. Time passed, and I tried to figure out the mess that was my life.

Hours later, I was standing in front of my closet, hauling on a pair of plain dark pants and a deep green, short-sleeved shirt. The material was tight, but not uncomfortably so, and it left the marks on both my arm and neck bare. I'd chosen a shirt that hid them first, and when I realized, I changed. I felt cowardly hiding behind thin material, so now I was almost flaunting the wounds. Just another kind of foolish. I buttoned the pants and reached for my watch.

The light that seeped between my bedroom curtains changed, brightening. I saw it in the mirror seconds before I felt something huge and blistering smash through me. Suddenly I was on my knees, screaming, my heart pounding in my chest like it would burst from my body. The pain was like scorching flame, burning into me, searing my skin until my nerves were raw and naked. My eyes were clenched shut, tears running down my cheeks. I screamed until I couldn't draw breath any longer, and I ground my teeth together, screaming my pain inside my head. And then it was finished, and I could breath again. I collapsed, taking great gasps of air. The pain faded, becoming a memory, and all I was left with was the ache in my jaw from clenched teeth.

I lay still for what seemed like eternity, then slowly, I rose. I swiped a hand over my face, then walked on unsteady legs to the bathroom. I washed the tears from my skin and avoided looking in the mirror. Then I sank to the floor, leaning against the door jamb. I was in shock. Mild shock, I told myself. It was a distant, muffled feeling, like I was detached from my body and the world.

The pain of sunset was steadily getting worse. This time . . . this time, it was like . . . .

I slammed my fist into the floor, snarling in frustrated rage. I shoved myself to my feet and finished getting ready, raking a brush quickly through my hair and retrieving the watch from where it had fallen to the floor. I called a taxi service, grabbed my keys and left. I had planned on using public transport, but now I hadn't the patience to wait. I was going to see Duo now.

The city flashed by, and I barely registered where we were going. I had the directions tucked into my pocket, and the driver had to use them twice. We went deeper into the city than I had ever bothered to venture before.

"You sure this is where you wanna be?" he asked, peering out the window at the building in front of us.

It was a blank, dark building. Plain . . . no, ugly. Nothing like the person who was supposed to own it. I stepped out of the car and paid the driver. Right now, I wasn't at all sure this is where I wanted to be, but here I was.

"Yeah," I told him, turning away. I felt a drop of wetness on my face, then another on my hand. The sidewalk was slowly becoming peppered with dark wet spots.

He grunted something under his breath, then drove away. I looked up at the building, my face set, and headed around to the side, where Duo had told me there was a door. I searched the blank wall for several moments before I saw it. Without asking myself again if this was an intelligent idea, since I was fairly certain of the answer, I grasped the handle and pulled. The air behind me grew colder as the rain started falling harder. I listened to the heavy sound of it hitting the ground. In front of me, there was a soft glow of light, showing two sets of stairs; one leading up, the other, down. I went down. The symbolizism wasn't lost on me.

Another door lay at the bottom, and I pushed that one open as well. It was darker here, the light a different color than the usual yellowish glow of electricity. I glanced around, seeking the source, and only found a small table lamp. The room was decorated in stark black and white, with shades of gray. The carpet was pure white, the furniture that I could see, which included a wide couch, two overstuffed chairs and the low, square coffee table that the lamp sat on, were solid black. I swept my gaze over the room again, this time catching a smaller table, also black wood, with a tiny winged statue and a telephone on it. There were three doorways, the one I was standing in and two more, one on the far side and the other a few feet away, set back in a niche.

I stepped fully into the room, letting the door close softly behind me. I resisted the irrational urge to slam the door shut.

"This is as far as I go, Duo," I said. "Where are you?"

I heard him moving around, and he materialized in the doorway not far from me. He looked at me and smiled. It looked genuine, not the carefully composed smile I was so used to seeing before. He started walking towards me, a greeting on his lips.

"It's getting worse," I snapped at him, not bothering to hide my anger.

His smile faltered and he slowed. "What is?"

"You know what I'm talking about," I said, raking a hand through my hair. "When the sun sets and I­" I stopped short, catching the expression on his face.

"You feel it, yes, I know," he said. His face had gone blank. A perfect, beautiful blank statue.

"But not like that, not before!" I said. I knew I wasn't making it clearer, but that fear had finally caught up with me and it was quickly turning from rage to panic. "It's worse. It hurt before, but now it's worse. I can't breathe through the pain." Belatedly I realized that I had slumped back against the door, using it for support.

Suddenly, Duo was beside me, holding me in his arms. I stiffened, but he didn't pull away. His hair was loose and fell around us. It brushed over my hand and I curled a lock around my finger without thinking. He was speaking, and I couldn't hear him over the rushing in my ears. I looked up at him blankly and said, "What?"

He stopped short, mouth open and in mid-sentence. "Can you hear me?" he asked.

I nodded. I could hear him now. "Reverse it," I said, annoyed that my voice sounded panicked. I was scared, that much was true, but I didn't want to sound so frantic. "Stop it, keep it from getting worse."

Duo looked at me, his eyes wary. "I can't reverse it."

"Duo!" I shouted at him.

He shook his head slowly. "I can't, I told you I couldn't. But . . . I can stop it."

I stopped breathing for a second, then straightened. Duo's arms fell away. "What do you mean?" I didn't trust how he had phrased it. "Just keep it from getting worse?" I didn't want to experience that everyday. I couldn't die every time the sun set, and that's exactly what it felt like.

Duo's face closed down, hiding his thoughts completely from me. "Eventually."

I scowled at him, crossing my arms over my chest. That was not what I wanted to hear, especially if it was the truth.

He sighed, turning away from me and walking into the room. "I said I wanted you, Heero."

I hoped that he wasn't referring to sex. I couldn't handle a sex talk right now.

"I didn't mean simply in a sexual way, though I want to have you, touch you and know you're mine, just as much." He settled down on the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him and hands loosely clasped over his stomach.

I noticed for the first time that his black pants were impossibly tight, the line so smooth that I knew there was nothing under them but him. The shirt was red, a deep, dark blood red, and completely sheer. I saw glimpses of his skin through the cloth. He shifted, turning his head to face me, and my gaze got caught on the sight of the sculpted curve of his chest and the dark aureoles of his nipples. My mouth had filled as he spoke, and I swallowed loudly. I wondered if he could hear it. I really couldn't handle the sex talk.

"I don't belong to anyone," I said. "I won't be reduced to your possession."

"You already own me, Heero." His eyes seemed to darken, and I took an involuntary step into the room, towards him. "Is it so much to ask that you share yourself with me?"

I concentrated on not moving closer to him and didn't bother to answer.

"You seduced me, calling me in the night, heating my blood with your voice, and I am not allowed to return the favor?"

I shook my head, having to try twice before my voice would work. "I didn't ask for this."

"I am asking," he replied. He moved again, kneeling sideways on the couch now with one foot still firmly on the floor. He held his hand out to me. "I want to have you with me, be able to touch your body, taste your skin."

God, any god, help me, I wanted it. I wanted to take his hand and let him pull me down beside him, hoping that he'd never let go. I wanted to fall on him like some ravening animal and see what kind of sounds I could wrench from his throat. My body ached with it, my skin felt too small, too tight to contain me. I could feel my blood pulsing through my veins, heart pounding. Something stirred within me, and I could hear it asking me again why I refused the power and the pleasure. And I couldn't think of a single reason for why not any more.

I started walking, hands still fisted at my sides. He watched me warily, holding himself perfectly still as if expecting me to turn and bolt from the room if he so much as twitched. I slid my hand into his, a brush of skin. He was warm, no . . . hot. His fingers closed slowly over mine and he looked up at me, his expression raw and open. I saw disbelieving relief in his face, and fear. Fear that I would turn away and reject him again, and that was something I just couldn't bring myself to do. Partly because of him, but mostly for myself. Selfish, greedy hypocritical bastard that I am, I couldn't bear the thought of not having him. It had taken me this long to admit it.

Duo watched me, not speaking. He drew me down in front of him until I sat on the cushions. His gaze dropped to where my hand was enclosed by his, then carefully released his grip. He trailed his fingers up over my arm and cupped my cheek, his eyes following the same path.

I swallowed again, and my breath caught. My body pulsed with anticipation, I could feel my clothes rubbing against my cock, already full and throbbing. My skin where he touched me seemed to flare with sensation, and I felt the velvet caress of power breathing through me.

"Duo," I said, my voice deep and rough in my own ears. "I want . . . ."

He shook his head again, silencing me, and rubbed his thumb over my lips. His own voice was rough when he spoke. "Do you know what you're about to ask me?"

I had a quick flash of irritation through the haze of hormones raging through my blood. Of course I knew. I opened my mouth to tell him so.

"No, do you truly know what you're about to ask?" He brought his other hand up, trapping my face between his palms. "You'll never be the same, it will all change once and then never change again."

I drew my eyebrows together, trying to tear my gaze away from his lips. I was mesmerized, watching them. "You've already ­ I've already changed, I can't go back now."

"No," he said. "You can't." Then he covered my lips with his.

- - - - - - - - -

Wufei: . . . you don't have anything to say?
Blue: Not a thing.
Trowa: Nothing?
Blue: *shakes head*
Duo: *narrows eyes* No smart ass comments, no threats, no-
Blue: Nope.
Heero: She's ill.
Quatre: *absently reaches for calendar* It could be stress . . . .
Wufei: *stares critically at Blue* We should do something.
Duo: *nods* It's unnatural.
Blue: -_-

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