Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!

Pairing: Heero/Duo
Rating: PG?
Warning: Shounen ai, sap

A/N: To meet Sharon's request: I'd like to read a 100-500 word drabble in which one guy tells the other guy that he 's never wanted anyone like he wants him. I hope this qualifies!

Silently Whispering
by Merith

Sometimes I wonder if he knows...

We don't speak of it, our feelings for each other. In some way, he must know. He's still here, still with me. If he didn't, wouldn't he have been long gone by now?

I used to doubt, but I see it, I don't need to hear him confess his heart to me. He shows me in his eyes, in his touch. It silently whispers each time we kiss, he holds my hand, and when he lets me decide on the movie.

There are moments I wonder how I can absorb any more. Surely one person can only be given so much. Sharing bodies, sharing living space is nothing in comparison. He's much more than a physical release. He's more than a roommate. He's my lover in every essence of the word.

Imagining the past year without him leaves me cold and shaking. Fear of being alone again has me seeking out his presence, just to have visual confirmation he's still there.

He is where he loves to be on a Saturday afternoon, head stuck under the hood of his latest remodel job, knee propped for leverage on the bumper. His music is loud but not uncomfortably so; he's singing the lyrics slightly off-key and out of step of the song. Something to keep his mouth busy as his mind works on the problem at hand. I can only imagine what's trapped his attention so deep into the engine he's practically sitting on the block.

A loud metallic clang startles me and he sits back cursing. I can see the wrench he'd been using skitter over the concrete floor. Duo straightens and notices me still standing in the doorway. He smiles and reaches for the grease rag in his back pocket.

There's a black smudge across his forehead and the hair around his face is covered in grime. His coveralls are saturated with it. I can almost smell the sweat, the grease, and old car dust clinging to him. But none of it stopped me from moving forward, from reaching for him.

In my arms is where I wanted him. In my arms is where he would stay.

"Heero?" he asks, his voice muffled against my shirt.

Pulling back a little, both hands embrace his head. I kiss the grease marking his face, kiss the tip of his nose, kiss his lips. His eyes had been wide with surprise, and settled into the knowledge even I could read.

He understands. He knows.


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