DISCLAIMER: Bandai and Sunrise own all. I?m just borrowing the boys and their world. The story, however, is mine.

PAIRING: 2x1, 2x2, implied 3x4
CATEGORY: yaoi, angst, kink [rough sex], lemon, drama
WARNING: ANGST, dark subject matter [cutting], references to OC NCS (not GW boys). This is NOT your typical 2x1. **Please see previous parts for additional notes.
FEEDBACK: Love it - dev_aki_jediknight @ yahoo.com

SUMMARY: Heero's unique up-bringing and training has instilled in him a special need, with Duo's help he tries to manage it.

When It Hurts
Part Three: Development
by Dev-Aki Basaa

It seemed fairly universal. The first, the next, the most recent. Insulation between the walls of dormitories was non-existent. If Heero lay at just the right angle, if he pressed his ear against the cool plaster just a little harder, he could hear him. Oh, he tried so hard to be quiet, but Heero could still hear him.

It had been approximately two months since Heero had appropriated parts from Deathscythe in deference to his own Gundam and mission. After all Duo had done for him, it was probably cruel and unforgivably rude, and yet... Heero had felt spiteful. Did that make any sense? Duo had done nothing wrong. He'd not cajoled Heero into watching him pleasure himself that first time. Or the time after that. Or the third. Duo had not purposefully made Heero think and feel things he neither wanted nor completely understood. Yet Heero lashed out at Duo for those things all the same. He wouldn't speak when spoken to, he didn't follow when asked, and he scavenged from Duo's Gundam -- the ultimate offence. By the time he'd left for his mission, Heero was certain Duo Maxwell hated him.

All of which, was for the best.

So, when Heero had found himself enrolled at a new boarding school, encountering a very familiar face and braid, he had expected disdain, even contempt from the other boy. Surely blatant anger. Perhaps a coming fistfight (which Heero would have appreciated). That, at least, would have made sense. Not... awkward moments and mutual gazes that lingered just a little too long. Not a sense of gravity drawing the two of them together, crossing campus grounds not so much to speak to each other, but just to be near. That wasn't supposed to happen. Not at all. And not between him and Duo.

Heero shifted against the wall again, listening, straining to hear. Something. Anything.

From one school, they moved to another. Then another. And then yet another and so on. For all intents and purposes, the parallel transfers had been coincidental. Yet, Heero knew he'd stalled long enough this last time just so he could determine where Duo was heading. Another time, he had reason to believe Duo had followed him. So, perhaps not so coincidental.

But for all this seeming connection between them, nothing much had changed. They would bicker. Heero would just walk away if Duo asked him not to. And Duo still talked at him with a stream of barely connected ideas while Heero only pretended not to listen -- and sometimes didn't listen at all, but would think way too much. His mind a jumble of questions and resentments. Sometimes he would at least acknowledge to himself that he... wanted. That Duo enticed him and he wanted... from him....

And that was about as far as he might let his mind travel on the subject.

Heero shifted closer to the wall. He knew if he couldn't allow himself to even think certain things, than this... spying was an effort in futility. It would only build on the already existing fascination he had with the other boy. But tonight, he would allow himself this one last invasion. This little thing, just one more time. He would stop listening for him and his low moans of pleasure. Stop picturing that look of pure ecstasy on Duo's face as he came.


He would stop...


Or maybe the day after.


Was it twisted? Considering who it was? Probably. Did he know what to do about it? Not a clue. However, that didn't change the facts. Fact: for the past three months and four school transfers, whenever Duo closed his eyes, Heero was there. Fact: when he opened them, Mr. Stoic was still there. Fact: when he lost himself in fantasy jerking off, Heero was somehow part of that too. Even if he soiled his sheets in the night, it was an image of Heero that lingered from his fading wet dream. Maybe it was some fucked up version of imprinting. Maybe it was just over exposure. Maybe his hormones were way out of control.

But whatever it was, he couldn't get the other boy out of his mind. Couldn't catch any distance without breaching it again of his own accord. He couldn't stop... looking.

And, frankly, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

to be continued

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