All the standard disclaimers apply.

Author's Note: Well, I wasn't going to do it, but I think werewolf Duo is sleeping with my muse. That's the only way to explain how much influence he has over my writing. The only challenge Mere gave me for this one was to work in a particular word, though.1x2. Warning for some language, and Saya's lemon. Eh, I suppose that would make this NC-17 if you want to get technical.

Much thanks to everyone who bugged me for this, and who read the snippets I threw at them randomly.


Bitter Waning
Chapter One
by Saro


Duo paced, drifting from the mouth of the hall, through the livingroom and the diningroom and into the kitchen, back to the hall and Heero's empty bedroom at the back corner of the house, then turning to start the circuit over. They'd warned him that the first time would hurt. A lot. "Like nothing you've ever felt before," Trowa had said, and he'd smirked mildly as he said it. Trowa, he had learned, was like that. Stopping at the entrance to the livingroom, he could see the slim werewolf lazing on the sofa. Other figures sprawled listlessly across the furniture or on the floor.

They hadn't warned him about this when they told him, though. The clock was ticking its way toward four-fifteen, and he already felt it. It wasn't pain, but it was something.

The drapes were closed in the diningroom, the blinds turned down in the livingroom, leaving that end of the house in a hazy, brown sort of twilight. It was an oven. If the house's air conditioner had worked any time within the decade, Duo would have been surprised. A ceiling fan spun sluggishly, moving hot air. The kitchen was brighter. There, the windows were open, revealing a blue sky so bright it made his eyes ache -- the sere brown summer lawns looked dimmer by comparison.

Duo rolled his shoulders, trying to decide if the joints were stiff or not as his mind scrambled for a word to describe how he felt. It was like something was moving under his skin, waiting. He settled for ‘weird.'

Quatre was at the stove cooking a box of macaroni and cheese. The blonde werewolf's deceptive baby-face lit up with a smile when he saw Duo. There was sympathy in the expression, tilting his head just a little bit to one side, lifting one corner of his mouth a little higher than the other. "Hey," he greeted as Duo walked up to the counter. "How are you doing today?"

Duo shrugged. "Alright, I guess."

"You guess?" One fine yellow eyebrow cocked up at that. "You're not sure?"

"It's sort of hard to tell," he said, offering the other young man a smile.

"It's fine. I know what you mean. Been there, done that," Quatre told him with an understanding nod as he emptied the packet of powdered cheese into the pan. "Are you hungry? There's enough for two."

The uncomfortable murmurs coming from his stomach might have been hunger, but the idea of food didn't really appeal. The artificial orange cheese appealed even less. Duo shook his head. "I'll pass, thanks. What's up with you?"

"Not too much." Quatre frowned, continuing, "That social worker came by again, asking if any of us were underage. They wanted to see proof for me. Apparently I don't look over eighteen. But unless my father's attorney can think of a new scam, they can't medicate me without my approval."

Duo winced. He'd heard about the last time Quatre's dad had tried to take him to court. Some civil liberties group or another had provided him with a lawyer, who calmly pointed out that lycanthropy was not considered an impairment to one's judgment, and he could pass his psych exams. The case was thrown out. "That sucks. The do-good type?"

The werewolf nodded again. He said something else, but Duo's attention traveled past him to the window over the sink, drawn by some movement or another; a bird, or a dragonfly. Just a flash of color, and then gone. A swallow, maybe. It was the right kind of day for them.

He turned away from Quatre after a moment and moved back through the livingroom, then down the hall. No one looked up. The smell of marijuana smoke curled out from under the door of the master bedroom as he passed; the musty, dry scent of old weed made his nose itch. Coughing followed the smoke, and his ears seemed to shift after the sound. Someone suggested putting bread in the stash box. Duo hadn't heard that one before.

Farther down the hall to Heero's room. It was the smallest in the house, but he had it to himself. Unless Duo decided to take him up on his offer to move in. He stepped inside carefully, avoiding the dirty clothes on the floor and the blankets which had been tossed off the bed. The room was a cave. A ratty quilt had been pinned up over the window and the blanket held light out far more effectively than blinds or even a curtain would have. The air was moist and stale, and it smelled like the occupant, his sweat, his soap, his sex... just him.

Duo shivered, taken by the sudden desire to take down the blanket and open the window. He needed fresh air. He was across the room in four long steps, prying the tacks out of the wall before he realized what he was doing. The drape fell to one side, lighting up whole universes of dust. Then he pushed open the catch and sliding back the pane. No breeze, and the air outside was heavy with heat-soaked city exhaust, but still better than the room's suddenly thick atmosphere. He rested his hands on the sill and bent forward nearly nose to the screen.

How the hell had this happened? They'd been as careful as they could have been. His pulse sped up, and he leaned in a little more, pressing his forehead against the mesh. The move made his neck... not sore, but something like it. Tense, maybe. His whole back was not-quite-sore, like he'd been loading all day and taken painkillers. That was the closest approximation he could think of. His neck, shoulders and back seemed like they should be sore, but they weren't.

He took one deep breath, then another, opened his mouth and tasted dust. Letting his eyes slide closed, he focused the sound of his heart beating in his ears, a rapid thump and rush. He could feel it in his throat and in his fingertips. Idly he wondered if it really was that warm, or if it was just him, but the image of the others dozing in the dark livingroom assured him. Sweat slid down his nose and his spine, and his bangs stuck to his forehead.

The lingering smell of diesel barely preceded a warm hand landing on Duo's shoulder. He started to turn, surprised, and bumped into Heero, fresh back from work. The hand traveled down his arm to the window sill, where it threaded fingers through his. Heero's chin dropped to his shoulder, the other boy's body pressing against his back. "You okay?"

Duo relaxed into him momentarily. It wouldn't be long before being held like this got too hot for the weather, but for the second it was nice. "That depends. I'm not sure what's normal."

"Let's see," he said, then hummed a thoughtful noise. His breath tickled Duo's neck, but he didn't pull himself out of the other's arms just yet. "I think most of us start wondering if we've mysteriously developed attention deficit by now."

The long haired boy chuckled. He thought he could take this another minute or so, which was longer than he would have expected. Normally he wasn't much for cuddling when the weather turned this muggy. "That sounds about right, yeah."

"Can't sit still, but moving is," he paused as though choosing his next word carefully, "awkward."

"Check." Awkward -- that wasn't a bad term for it.

Lips ghosted across his ear, then pulled away. "Feel like you're running a fever?"

"Not really." Heero's chest against his back was getting too warm for comfort, but he still wasn't quite ready to leave. "Is that something I have to look forward to?"

The werewolf's hand tightened over his own. Duo's knuckles were a little broader than Heero's; Duo watched through hooded eyes as Heero's stretched to accommodate the difference. His thumb stroked the side of Duo's hand gently. "Maybe. Sure you're not feeling warm?"

"It's gotta be a least ninety-five in the shade, babe. Of course I'm warm. In fact...," he trailed off, shrugging out of the hold. His shirt clung to his skin as he moved. "That's better. Not that I don't appreciate the attention and all."

Heero's mouth made an easy line, parted just slightly in a smile. Stepping away, he leaned against the near wall and crossed his arms over his chest. Amber flecked his eyes, spreading out from his pupil and staining the blue. Duo swallowed. Would his eyes do that to? Yeah, the rational part of his mind answered, I imagine they will. Another part of him shivered at the prospect.

The quiet stretched out and Duo's gaze went back out the window. It was bright outside, but he could feel night coming. Not quite night, but the moon. As ridiculous as it sounded even in his own head, he knew it. His fingers tighten on the sill again, and his hands felt numb, but not. The feeling was off, not gone, but it reminded him a little of the way his lips got when a shot of Novocain started wearing off.

He kept trying to think of something, but nothing was quite the same.

Glancing down at his wrist watch, he saw it was barely four-twenty. He still had something like four hours until sunset. Five until the moon rose. That thought made his stomach twist sideways and complain audibly. Whether it was lycanthropy or nerves, he couldn't tell.

"You know, in a way, this is sort of like Christmas."

Heero chuckled at that; Duo's stomach was louder. "Christmas," he repeated. To his credit, he kept the incredulity in his voice to a minimum. "How is it like Christmas?"

"The waiting," he explained readily. "And the anticipation. I mean, it's not like I think I'm gonna get a toy racetrack or something out of this, but still. It's not as nuts as it sounds."

"It doesn't sound nuts," Heero said. The gold faded a little in his eyes, blue creeping in to replace it. "I think that's a pretty normal thought, too."

"So what do we do now?" Duo asked, not really wanting to let a silence develop between them again. Talking distracted him, helped him quit trying to define every sensation.

"Do whatever you want."

Duo grinned wryly. "That's not too helpful, y'know."

"I know," Heero agreed. His smile could almost be overlooked, but Duo still couldn't miss it. It was in his voice and in his posture, the set of his shoulders, the relaxed manner. "But you've got time to kill. Watch a movie. Take a nap. Play a videogame. Whatever."

There were children screaming in Spanish the next yard over. Duo was pretty sure they were playing freeze tag, even though he couldn't understand what they were shouting at each other. Freeze tag, he imagined, was about the same in any language. Two voices rose and fell in a quick volley. ‘I got you, I got you!' ‘Did not, did not!' Shaking his head, he dragged his attention back inside. "I don't think I could take a nap if I tried. I started watching a movie, but I got bored."

"You might surprise yourself on the nap," the other said. "You look tired."

He noised an ambivalent response. "I think I'll take a shower." A cool shower, he added to himself, to take off the heat and the grime. Maybe he was feeling a little feverish; it was impossible to tell. He wasn't dizzy, though, and normally fevers made his head spin.

"That's a good idea."

"Are you implying I stink, Heero?" Duo teased, shooting the other a wry look as he pushed away from the window. "I really hope not, because that would be breaking rule number one."

"Rule number one?" Heero asked, playing along.

Duo nodded solemnly and held up the one finger. "Offend not the provider of thy nookie."

"I'd never dream of it," Heero agreed, deadpan serious.

"Good," the long haired boy said, smiling. "Now, do you have any clean towels?"

"You can use mine."

"God, Heero, I said clean."

The werewolf rolled his eyes. "Check the linen closet then. That's where the clean ones normally turn up. Watch a movie with me when you get out?"

He glanced at his watch again. He still had five hours to kill. A movie and a shower would be half of that. "Sure. I don't promise I'll watch the whole thing, though."

Heero spread his hands in a gesture of acceptance as Duo left.

There was, in fact, a clean towel in the linen closet. It was threadbare and the color fell somewhere between feminine hygiene and mildew pink, but it was still clean, and it was big, and Duo wasn't going to complain. However, if he did move in here, the bathroom was something he was going to complain about.

This is one of the reasons I haven't moved in yet, he thought, eyeing the red-brown trail leading to the drain while he stripped off his shirt. The grout was a very good match for the towel. He'd cleaned it once, about a month and a half ago, and as far as he could tell, no one had done so since. Sighing, he turned on the tap and let the water reach lukewarm while he unbraided his hair. When he finished, he tossed the band on the counter and stepped under the spray.

After a few moments of just letting water beat down on him, he braced himself against the wall and leaned forward to wet his hair and face. The tile was cold under the palms of his hands; he wanted to press his cheek against it to see if it could cool him down, or if he would warm the ceramic up. Water sluiced over his scalp and poured down his back. He borrowed Heero's shampoo, used his soap. They were the same smells as in his bedroom, but fresh from the bottle.

In five hours -- less, now -- he was going to turn into a wolf.

Duo stopped mid-lather. It didn't sound real. It didn't feel real. Lycanthropy barely seemed plausible in and of itself, but having it happen to him or to anyone he knew was beyond implausible. It was just fucking absurd.

And it was going to happen.

In four hours and forty-odd minutes.

He swallowed hard and his stomach invented a new shape. He'd never seen Heero change, or any of the others. He'd seen enough to know they were werewolves, seen eyes turn yellow and hair stand on end in ways that weren't normal, but they were just people. They didn't act like animals most of the time, and no more, really, than some people.

The water tasted like rust, encouraging him to finish. He rinsed quickly and turned off the shower, cleaner but without the relief he'd hoped for. A god damn wolf, yet he couldn't argue with the fact. He could take pills to suppress it, he supposed, but the idea having to take a pill everyday for the rest of his life was strangely more disturbing than the alternative.

Leaving his hair loose to dry, Duo went to find Heero in livingroom and see what movie he had picked out.

Heero had forced Trowa to one end of the couch, taking the other for himself. The taller boy raked his fingers through his hair when Duo appeared, a gesture that looked vaguely disgruntled. The VCR remote was in his other hand.

"Feeling better?" Quatre asked. He was sitting on the floor, his back against one of Trowa's legs.

"Cleaner, at least," Duo replied, convincing himself to grin. "So, what are we watching?"

On the ottoman, Relena yawned dreamily before answering, "Something with sex scenes in it, I think, is what they decided."

"Sex was vetoed in favor of frenetic violence and brain matter," Dorothy said, kicking the other girl's foot playfully. "You dozed off." Then she cocked a facetious look at Duo. "Think that'll keep your attention that long?"

Duo sat next to Heero, close enough to feel the boy's body heat, and winked. "If you're going to tease me, at least use sesquipedalian words so that I don't have to know."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said smiling and pushed a stray hair behind her ear. Trowa chose that moment to turn on the television, effectively putting an end to the conversation.

The screen came to life, a finger smudge in one corner highlighting the dust it had collected. Three attractive young students sat in the grass, an artful university scene arranged behind them.

"Did you know that even if you're being treated for lycanthropy, it may still be possible to spread the disease to others if your blood-contaminant count is higher than twelve hundred parts per million?" the voice over asked studiously.

"Start the movie!" Relena and Dorothy demanded at once, one frowning, the other sneering, while Quatre blew a raspberry at the screen. Trowa was quick to obey.

Trying to get comfortable, Duo shifted closer to Heero, then farther from him, and eventually allowed the other to wrap an arm around him. Despite the heat, the weight across his shoulder was soothing.

The movie began with a mafia style execution, blood splatter in a deserted gravel parking lot, and managed to hold Duo's attention for about half an hour as he finger combed his wet hair. Eventually every knot he could find had been picked apart, though, and his hands got restless. He tried cracking his knuckles, which earned him a disgusted look, and then playing with his class ring. It didn't take long for both of those pastimes to grow boring. Catching the amused glances passing among the werewolves, he forced his hands still and tried to watch the movie, but the more he tried, the more his body ached to move.

His valiant effort won him another ten minutes or so, before he surrendered, and went back to prowling the house.

The mood changed palpably when the sun went down. Whatever Duo had felt all afternoon came down on them all that evening, and it attacked him so strongly he finally decided the feeling in his stomach was queasiness. He wasn't looking at the clock anymore; he didn't have to.

By some unspoken signal, they all moved outside around nine. Heero caught Duo's hand as he passed, and after pulling off his ring and tucking it safely away in his own pocket, he led the other out the backdoor and onto a bare cement patio. Everyone staying in the house at the moment was there, something like seven in total. Duo didn't count. It felt good to be outside. Right.

"Come with me," Heero whispered in his ear, tugging on his hand. Duo caught his eyes in the dark, which had become oddly transparent -- they were already bleeding to gold. Nodding, he followed the other around the side of the house.

"Make sure he doesn't chase any cats!" Trowa's advice followed them around the corner.

Ignoring the jibe, Duo asked softly, "What next?"

In answer, Heero pushed him against the wall so the siding made ridges against his back, and kissed him. Tongue first, teasing Duo's lips before their mouths actually met. When he pulled away, Duo was gasping for air, but it wasn't because of the kiss. Whatever came next, it was going to happen very soon.

"Take off your clothes," Heero instructed. "You'll be very uncomfortable otherwise."

Duo met the werewolf's gaze for a long moment, then obeyed. Stripping shirt and shorts, he found his eyes repeatedly pulled to the horizon. He couldn't see it yet, but he knew it was there, below the line of houses and trees. The fine hair along his spine and on his arms stood on end expectantly, as though the air was charged with static electricity. The rustle of fabric told him Heero was also undressing, and he wondered if everyone left on the patio was, too.

As they stripped, Heero spoke. "Watch out for the police -- there's more out on the full moon. It's sort of like on holiday weekends. They look for an excuse to bring you in," he said. "Just stay with me, alright?" A strong arm wrapped around his waist while an open mouthed kiss landed on his neck. Heero's voice echoed in his ear, "It's coming." He needn't have bothered saying it.

The first wave of the transformation, rippling out from somewhere low in his body, hit Duo like a gut-punch; it dropped him to his knees and forced the air out of his lungs. Trowa was right -- it did hurt, and he'd never felt anything like it before. He opened his mouth, to scream or groan, or maybe just pant, but the feeling down his throat, choking him. A pop that might have been his jaw, and then the next wave hit, brighter than the first, tearing up and down his limbs and burning through his skin. It exploded behind his eyes and blanketed his senses. It receded, then rose again like a tide, rolling him under.

Piece by piece, the pain took him apart and made something new.

When he could see again, it was in strange detail. The moonlight stole color and gave back a picture in bold lines and motion. He stretched and stood, and the world came into clearer focus, though from a lower angle. Smells washed over him, too many and too vivid to place.

Duo turned and came nose to nose with a pale eyed, dark furred wolf. There was white and silver picked out the other's muzzle and his chest. The tail held high over his back was white tipped. The scent he offered was Heero's, as was the pink tongue that darted out to greet him.

Duo started to open his mouth to ask a question, but the answer was already apparent in Heero's posture.

What do we do now?

We run.

Shaking himself, the new wolf tried to process how he'd known that, but he couldn't place where he'd seen the answer, just that he had. It was as clear as if the dark wolf had spoken aloud. Heero's posture was one of controlled anticipation: ears forward, muscles relaxed and ready, waiting.

Ready?

Unsure how to respond, Duo nodded. Heero answered with something suspiciously like a grin, then he was off. For an instant, Duo was left blinking in his wake, then he was following after. Awkwardly, to start with, but with growing confidence. He gained ground on the other, sprinting the length of the deserted suburban streets and cutting across yards.

At some point in the course of the night they met up with the others -- Duo couldn't be sure quite when. The pale wolf, nearly white but touched buff and grey across the shoulders and haunches was the first to arrive, and be identified as Quatre. He knew the smell, even though he hadn't been aware of it. The others followed, one by one. On the full moon, the neighborhood was left for them.

_____ _____ _____

Duo woke a little at a time, aware first of being warm, of his face pressed into his pillow, then of heavy smell of canine on him. It wasn't as acute as the night before, but it hadn't gone away either. He felt the cool of morning on bare skin, and a languid sense of satisfaction that made him wonder in the stirring corner of his mind if he'd gotten laid the night before. He was sore, he realized then. Normal old, run of the mill sore. And he was very hungry.

Stretching lazily, he found the body behind him, feet where the head should be. Rolling over, he blinked at Heero lying reverse him on the mattress, eyes open to thin crescents under their lashes, content smile glowing on his face.

"Good morning," Duo said lazily.

A frown line appeared between Heero's brows. "Is it?"

A reassuring smile spread over the long haired boy's features as he replied, "Yeah, it is. Y'know, you'll get a wrinkle if you keep that up."

Heero snorted. "So? You'll get crow's feet."

"Probably, but I'm cool with that. Smile lines have a lot of character, babe. Frown lines just make you look old."

"Old?" The werewolf chuckled at that, reaching out slowly and grabbing one of Duo's legs, caressing from high on his calve all the way to his ankle. Duo swallowed as his hair stood under the attention; the touch set nerves buzzing all the way up the limb. Heero continued, "I think I'll look distinguished, actually."

"Nah," Duo said, meeting Heero's smug gaze. "That'll only work if you go salt-and-pepper at the temples first. You can have character even if you just go straight to mule grey. It's a better plan."

"What if you go bald?" The hand at his ankle traced back up his calve to the knee, stroking the soft spot behind before circling around to the front.

Duo laughed. "Then I'll have to leave you for a plumber -- it's the only way my drains would survive. But I'm not gonna go bald, so we don't have to worry about that."

"Good thing." A kiss landed in the arch of his foot. "If I'm losing you --" pause as another fell on the pad, "-- I'd sure as hell prefer to be able to say it was for a CEO --" teeth scraped his big toe, "-- or an athlete, or a porn star or something. I'm not sure I could deal with the indignity of being left for a plumber."

"Don't worry. If I hook up with any of those fancy names, I'll keep you on the side for a safety."

"I am so reassured..." Heero sat up, and his tongue stroked the place on the back of Duo's knee his fingers had before.

He groaned, half wishing Heero didn't know him so well, and said, "You should be. But you know, I'd be faithful to that plumber."

"No plumber," he growled, failing to be scary. "They have a pill for hair loss. Besides, whoever heard of a bald werewolf?" Before Duo could respond, he'd bent in and kissed him lightly on the mouth, then again, each time stronger in an attempt to draw him in. Sore and tired, Duo knew his own response was less enthusiastic. Sweet as lying in bed with Heero was, he almost wondered if sex couldn't wait until after he'd raided the kitchen for fruit loops and orange soda.

The other werewolf's mouth was insistent, tongue and teeth encouraging. Braced over him on one elbow, Heero's free hand traveled up leg, over hip and belly, across his chest, and finally came around to cup the back of his neck. The move forced Duo to tilt his head, hinted that he should open his mouth further, let the kiss deepen. He sat up, pushing his partner's back, and found himself facing a pair of intent slate blue eyes. Slowly, Heero dropped another kiss between his brows -- where I said he'd get a wrinkle, Duo thought, surprised. Then gently at the corner of his eyes, crow's feet. He chuckled. The corners of his mouth, again...

To hell with it. He kissed back, wetting Heero's dry lips with his tongue, pressing in and tasting the other's mouth: morning breath. He moved to Heero's neck, his ear, and heard him release a shuddering sigh. His hand worked its way back to Duo's knee, and this time he won a sharp hiss.

"Where are my pants?"

"Your pants?" Heero repeated, nuzzling the other boy's hair.

"The condoms are in my pants, I think," he said, meaning to continue, but Heero seemed to take mentioning condoms for permission, and his hand was between them, working Duo's half-hard cock to life. Heat rushed to the pit of his stomach at the touch.

"You know, there's really no reason to use those any more," the dark werewolf told him with another kiss. "I mean, the only reason we were before was to keep you from catching, and that's sort of pointless now." Duo kissed back, ignoring the morning breath. Heero laid him back down in the untidy sheets, caught the leg his partner raised for him and lifted it over his shoulder. He kissed the back of his knee one last time, then grabbed the bottle from the nightstand.

Duo grit his teeth against the intrusion when it came, waiting for the burn of stretching to pass. Heero knew his body, and he knew Heero; thoughtful expression, quick breathing and rough, diligent fingers. It didn't take long, and practice made it easier to find the point where the discomfort changed into something better, only a spark of flavor at first, but promising more.

Heero bent over him, nearly folding Duo nearly in half, and cupped his jaw in his free hand, smoothed a thumb over his cheek. "Ready?"

Closing his eyes, he nodded. The other's lips brushed his, and then Heero was pushing into him. Bracing his back on the mattress, Duo raised his hips to meet him. There was more pain, but more of that flavor too. He planted his free foot and managed to get enough leverage for the control he wanted, taking Heero's erection at his own pace. The motion wrung a grunt out of his partner. It was different without a condom -- skin slid against his insides instead of latex. Sweat broke on his body, and suddenly Duo had to struggle to maintain his breathing.

They set a familiar tempo, Duo matching Heero's measured thrusts with his own. Grunts and nearly soundless groans mixed with panting. Duo hissed through his teeth as they moved together, moaned as they parted. The springs complained, squeaking metallically in time.

Duo reached for his partner. His hands groped at Heero's shoulders, his neck, shaped the plains of his chest. The smooth skin was testament to a half Asian heritage, only a few dark hairs arrowing down his chest, fewer still trailing from his navel. The hard muscle underneath came from labor, working on the dock. Duo's hands finally settled on Heero's upper arms, fingertips digging bloodless indentations into his biceps.

The pressure grew, sending jolts up his spine and down his legs. One hand dropped toward his aching cock, but Heero caught it in a tough grip and forced his wrist to the bed. A moment later the hold relaxed, traveled up, and Heero's fingers laced through his. The long haired werewolf made an offended noise in his throat, almost a growl. Then Heero was there, providing him with the touch he wanted. Callused fingers, still slick with lube, handled him with surprising tenderness.

They were both close, moving faster, more erratic. Duo gulped air, mouth and throat gone abruptly dry. The bedsprings squealed under the abuse.

Heero came first, making a sound that was half grunt and half sigh as the spasm took him. Seconds later, Duo arched off the mattress, his blunt fingernails marking Heero's shoulder as he followed after.

In the aftermath, the pair of them lay tangled in dirty sheets, inches separating them. The room was quiet except for the sound of their slowing breath, and the blood pounding through Duo's ears. The smell was powerful, musky and fresh; it nearly gave him the spins. He could feel the heat coming off Heero in the confines of the little bedroom.

Pushing Duo's loose hair aside, the other werewolf edged closer. Skin to warm skin, Heero's arm snaked around his waist while he nuzzled his neck. His breath tickled Duo's cheek. "Still gonna leave me for a plumber?"

Duo couldn't stop a chuckle. "Of course. But I think I'll keep you on the side."

Heero murmured something unintelligible in Duo's hair -- a sound echoed by his stomach reminding him of the fruit loops and orange soda he had put off. "Change the sheets while I make breakfast?" he suggested, wiggling pointedly out of the wet spot.

"Are you staying again tonight?"

Duo blinked slowly, shooting Heero a look over his shoulder. "Would it make a difference if I am?"

"If you stay tonight, then I'll just have to change them again tomorrow," he explained, smiling. Duo rolled his eyes, then grabbed a pair of Heero's pants off the floor and left to scrounge in the kitchen.

on to chapter two

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