To the Pain
    Quatre could hear Duo singing in a low voice as he moved silently toward the kitchen. It was always fun to walk in on the American when he wasn't expecting it, so Quatre never missed an opportunity.
    “Whatever Duo wants, Duo gets. And little man, little Duo wants you…”
    Duo truly had a lovely singing voice–when he chose to use it for something other than sexual lyrics or violence.
    “Make up your mind to have, no regrets. Recline yourself, resign yourself, you're through…I always get what I aim for, and your heart is soul what I came for…”
    It was something of a relief for Quatre that Heero wasn't around. Duo had an almost unnatural fetish with the guy, and had he been in the area, Duo would no doubt be singing to him. He didn't care about the death threats, he could defend himself; he didn't care about the evident disinterest–it was a small obstacle that would be easily surmounted. This comment had been quickly followed by a comment on mounting that Quatre would rather not have heard. The idea that Duo was bisexual still disturbed him, though he was probably Duo's closest friend.
    “Whatever Duo wants, Duo gets. Take off your shirt, don't you know you can't win? You're no exception to the rule, I'm irresistible, you fool. Give in.”
    There was a heavy sigh.
    Quatre stopped inches from the kitchen door, feeling the board he was standing on give under his weight. He knew that one move would make the thing creak, and he didn't want to let anyone know he was there until he fully understood the situation. That was one thing Heero had taught him.
    “Whatever Duo wants, Duo gets,” Duo repeated in a voice dripping with sexuality. “I always get what I aim for, and your bed…is what I came for…whatever Duo wants, Duo gets,” he chuckled slightly.
    “Can you stop, please?” Heero asked in his cold monotone, very obviously irritated. “I don't want to hurt you, but I am willing to go that far to make my point.”
    Duo's laughter was something akin to delight.
    Quatre leaned forward very carefully, grabbing the door-jamb to lean slightly into the kitchen.
    Heero was sitting at the table, one elbow propping his head up as he fiddled with his eggs. It was obvious he hadn't eaten any yet. By the smell of it, Quatre had to assume Duo had just made them. Duo himself was hovering behind Heero. He had been leaning over Heero's exposed shoulder, but as he sang, he moved back some and then turned from the table to get some hot-sauce from a cupboard, turning with a flourish to offer it to the Japanese teen.
    “Take off your pants, don't you know you can't win?” he purred into Heero's ear as Heero accepted, stopped from thanking the other by this gesture. “You're no exception to the rule, I'm irresistible you fool. Give in.”
    “Duo, really…” Heero started, more emotion this time–real emotion, not just cold anger.
    “Give in,” Duo muttered again, leaning down and breathing up Heero's neck.
    Heero froze slightly, his muscles tensing.
    “Give in.”
    Quatre saw Heero's response coming, even if Duo hadn't. The American was sent flying across the kitchen, where he slammed into the counter as Heero stood, turning to glare at him…and spotted Quatre.
    The room fell extremely silent.
    Quatre felt himself nearly blush as he stepped off the creaking board–a loud screeching sound came from the thing. He stepped into the kitchen, meeting Duo's eyes briefly.
    He could see that Duo was embarrassed, and knew his friend enough to know that it was the rejection being witnessed that embarrassed him.
    “Good morning,” the Arabian offered, not sure what was expected now.
    Duo sighed, turning back to the stove, remaining silent.
    Heero was watching Quatre almost expectantly until their eyes met, then he gestured pointedly at the American's back. He and Quatre had discussed Duo's behavior several times, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't reason the actions away. Things like this, where Heero could make one of his points, showed badly on Quatre.
    Quatre frowned at Heero, starting across the room. “Duo…” he started.
    “Over-easy or scrambled?” Duo demanded before he could go on.
    Stopped so abruptly, it took Quatre a moment to decide to move on. He didn't need to reply, because Duo'd already started cracking eggs into the pan. Duo knew what Quatre liked above all the others–even Heero.
    Moving silently again, Quatre sat at the table next to Heero, sighing and tracing a ruffle in the stupid-frilly table-cloth. The only problem with Hilde living with them. Well, that and the fact that she and Duo nearly looked like twins since he'd cut his braid off.
    Heero was glaring at Quatre in an almost pouty fashion. He'd known Quatre wouldn't be able to deter his adamant sexually-charged-pain-in-the-ass of a suitor, but he'd thought his friend would at least attempt to reason with him.
    The kitchen remained silent until Trowa waltzed into the room with headphones on and his music blasting.
    “It has to be a curse,” Heero snapped, glaring at their roommate, who flashed him a grin before heading to the fridge.
    “Scrambled, please, Duo,” he said loudly as he dug out a bottle of water.
    It took Quatre a moment to understand what Heero'd been referring to. The song–the song Duo had been singing.
    “Sarah Vaughn, isn't it?” Heero asked tiredly, picking more at his food.
    “Yes,” Duo replied shortly.
    The near-silence continued as Duo slammed a plate in front of Quatre.
    “Thank you,” Quatre offered meekly, turning and trying to meet his friend's eyes.
    Duo, evidently, had no intentions of doing so.
    “What is that song from, anyway?” Heero asked. There was something reconciling in his tone.
    “A musical. Old,” Duo replied, still short. “It's called 'Damn Yankees' or something.”
    “That's what Americans were called, isn't it?” Quatre asked, also attempting reconciliation.
    They all knew that showing interest in something that only Duo could tell them would make him feel better.
    “No,” Duo snapped, still short. “Well, some.”
    He didn't offer anymore information, but Trowa changed the subject by singing loudly: “Recline yourself, resign yourself, you're through!” he laughed delightedly, pulling the headphones off and stopping the machine as he plopped down at the table on the other side of Heero. “I love that song,” he informed everyone.
    Seeing as everyone knew that, no one commented.
    “You know all the lyrics, don't you, Duo?”
    “And then some,” Heero muttered darkly.
    Duo, who'd barely reached the table, tossed the plate at Trowa, glared at Heero, then stormed from the room.
    “What's with him?” Trowa asked blankly.

- -

    Wufei frowned after Duo. “But I wanted eggs…” he started as the American slammed the door to his and Quatre's bedroom, locking it.
    Unsure what was going on in the kitchen, Wufei made his way into the room warily. He didn't want to be caught in the middle of one of their fights if he could help it. It irritated him how hard it was to stay on the fence when they all lived together. He looked the kitchen over, noting that Quatre was almost pouting.
    “What's the matter? You and Duo have a falling out?” he asked, smirking very slightly.
    “Not hardly,” he muttered darkly, standing from the chair and moving to the stove. “You want me to make you breakfast?”
    “Please,” Wufei replied easily, biting back his comment about the pair making up when he saw that Quatre really wasn't in the mood for games. Instead, he looked to the other two, focusing on Heero, who wasn't eating. “He really doesn't drug your food,” he offered, moving around to sit in the final chair. “Just the hot-sauce.”
    This got him a glare from the Japanese teen.
    Wufei frowned, focusing on Trowa–while being glared at by Heero was nothing new, something about the room spoke of more. “What's going on?”
    Trowa shrugged, sliding his earbuds into his ears. “Your guess is as good as mine,” he replied, gesturing vaguely to his right as he focused on the machine. “They were all acting odd when I got here.”
    Wufei looked to the others as the music started.
    Heero stood and left the kitchen.
    “Quatre?” Wufei pressed.
    Quatre set a plate of eggs in front of him, meeting his eyes briefly before turning to leave as well.
    “Hey! We don't want to clean up after you three!” Trowa called.
    Quatre ignored him, testing his bedroom door before sighing and breaking the knob.
    “God damn it, Quatre! Do you always have to break the damn door?”
    Quatre frowned at Duo, shutting the door as much as it would, crossing his arms. “The door was locked,” he informed the other, crossing his arms.
    “If you would have said!” Duo started, gesturing at the door and moving to his side, pulling the door open, blinking at it a moment before rocking back to give Quatre a slightly petulant look. “Well, you don't have to replace it this time.”
    “As if that was ever an issue,” Quatre muttered.
    “Well honestly!” Duo snapped, throwing his arms in the air as he turned to the other. “When have I ever denied you access…when we weren't fighting?”
    Quatre was taken aback by that.
    “I just didn't want Mr. Do-good or pain-in-the-ass out there to come in,” he gestured toward the main of the house as he said this, shaking his head and turning to his bed. “I want eggs indeed!”
    “What?” Quatre asked blankly.
    “That's what fuck-nut told me,” he muttered in semi-disgust over his shoulder.
    “Wufei?” Quatre asked, still blank.
    “Yeah, Wufei,” Duo replied, rolling his eyes as he went back to making his bed, tossing some clothing items into the hamper. “Honestly, Quatre, why don't we just move out? I know I can get us an apartment in town…”
    “Us?” Quatre asked, even more lost now.
    “Well, yeah,” Duo muttered, straightening as he thought–Quatre however was hit in the stomach suddenly by something he didn't understand.
    Us?
    “It's not like I want to live with any of those fuckers,” Duo added, gesturing to the main of the house again as he met Quatre's eyes. “And I don't want to live alone. You're my friend,” he stopped at the thunk of the doorknob hitting the ground. He blinked at the blond uncertainly. Quatre had not only dropped the door-knob, but his expression had changed. He was avoiding Duo's eyes. “Quatre?” Duo asked, not understanding.
    “What?” Quatre asked quickly, looking up to meet his eyes–suddenly wishing he weren't wearing only his pajama bottoms as Duo's eyes traveled down his stomach quickly before landing on his eyes, his expression confused.
    Neither said anything for a moment, but Duo was suddenly very aware of the other. Quatre's innocent seeming eyes were asking for something and Duo couldn't tell what. He didn't understand what was happening, but a slow flush had colored Quatre's cheeks.
    Quatre cleared his throat when he realized Duo wasn't going to say what he wanted him to say–not that he knew what that was–and looked away, not able to hold the other's eyes. “I'm gonna…” he cleared his throat again, turning to the door. “I'm going to clean up breakfast,” he muttered, leaving quickly.
    Duo didn't know what to say as the door shut again. He moved slowly to scoop up the door-handle, then studied the door once more. A slow smile and his own blush covered his face as he started into the hall, heading for the garage.
    Heero heard Duo coming and stepped into the hall, meeting his eyes as he recoiled sharply, like the male’s presence bothered him. “What's wrong?” Heero asked blankly, taking in the handle that Duo was holding. “You broke the door?”
    “No,” Duo replied, giving him a look. “Quatre did. I'm fixing it,” he brushed passed Heero without so much as a pat on the ass.
    Heero stared after him in shock.
   
    Quatre didn't understand Heero at all. Two days ago, he'd been bitching about Duo's constant come-ons. Now he was all pouty and irritated with Quatre, as if it were Quatre's fault that he and Duo were doing shit that kept Duo away from the house. If anything, he'd have thought the Japanese teen would thank him.
    Sunday had passed more quietly than Saturday–until Hilde returned. Duo'd went back to normal with her. They both poked and prodded at Heero nearly constantly throughout first period.
    That seemed to please Heero.
    Quatre rolled his eyes, crinkling up the sheet of paper he was holding…and threw it at Heero's head–hard.
    He was utterly shocked as Heero turned to stare at him in utter astonishment–Duo started laughing.
    “Mr. Maxwell!” Mrs. Fergus snapped, then looked to Heero. “Mr. Yuy, would you like me to move him?”
    Heero turned to look at the teacher in even more shock.
    “They're fine,” Hilde replied calmly, flashing Quatre a grin. “They'll be quiet now,” this was accompanied by a pointed look to Duo, who shut up and went back to his spiral.
    The teacher hesitated a longer moment, not even looking at Quatre, then turned back to the white-board.
    Hilde smiled widely at Quatre a moment before turning and scribbling in her own notebook with her fuzzy pen, the ball at the end bouncing quickly, passing it and the notebook to the blond when she’d finished writing.
    Quatre was still slightly flustered as he accepted both, reading the note. 'You've been acting strangely. What happened Saturday? Why are you flirting with Duo?'
    Quatre knew he'd gone white.
    Duo, who'd turned at the passing of the notebook, snatched the thing from Quatre before he could protest.
    Hilde sighed in disgust, reaching over and snatching her pen from him.
    Quatre didn't know what to say.
    Duo glared across at Hilde, wrote quickly, and passed her the notebook, not even looking to Quatre.
    Her giggle was shocked and shocking. The entire class turned to look at her as Duo grinned brightly at her, sitting back in his seat before winking at Quatre.
    “Miss Shbleiker?” the teacher asked, confused.
    Quatre knew he was blushing as he stood quickly and snatched at the notebook–which caused Duo to laugh delightedly and Heero to give him a confused look. Hilde, however, was too quick; she ripped the paper from the thing and passed Quatre the notebook, tucking the single sheet under her shirt and into her jeans.
    “Mr. Winner!” Mrs. Fergus sounded amazed as she walked quickly up the isle and snatched the notebook from Quatre.
    Quatre just had enough time to read 'Duo's my dream', drawn in a bold and masculine looking hand, before the woman had it.
    She blinked down at that, then up at Quatre, then down again before passing it back. “Please, Mr. Winner, do not interrupt the class any longer,” she grinned slightly as she glanced side-long at Duo and turned away.
    Heero was staring at Quatre and Hilde was fighting a giggle.
    Quatre gave her a murderous look.
    “What'd it say?” Duo asked curiously in Arabic.
    Quatre felt himself blushing as he glanced to his friend and shook his head, looking away.
    Hilde started giggling, taking the notebook from him.

- -

    “They're insane,” Wufei stated firmly, shutting his locker and meeting Relena's eyes. “Heero's been insanely jealous all week, Quatre is actually flirting with Duo, and I heard that there was a note-passing incident on Monday. Not only that, but Duo's completely stopped chasing Heero. Do you have any idea what it's like at my house right now?”
    “I told you just to move in with me,” Relena stated calmly. “You and Trowa both,” she brushed her hair back in a very snob-like gesture.
    “Yeah, and have Zechs breathing down my neck because he's decided that I want to fuck you.”
    “Don't you?” she asked curiously.
    Wufei gave her a look. “I would if you started it, but I'm not interested otherwise.”
    She laughed, punching him in the arm. “You are such a prick!”
   
    Trowa was eyeing Duo curiously as Duo started writing something in his spiral. They were in the library doing work for an essay. He himself was supposed to be taking notes, but he wanted to talk to Duo.
    Duo stopped suddenly, looking up and holding his eyes directly. 'What?' he mouthed.
    'What's going on?' Trowa replied, leaning in some.
    'Nothing. What are you talking about?'
    'You stopped fucking with Heero, and it now seems that there's credence in Wufei's insistence that you and Quatre are secret lovers.'
    Duo snorted, drawing them attention–he covered it, however, by digging into his backpack for his lap-top.
    'Don't play that shit with me,' Trowa mouthed, aware that Duo could still read his lips.
    'We're not lovers, and why should I waste time on Heero when I know he's not interested?' this was accompanied with an actually curious look.
    Trowa raised an eyebrow. 'I have it on good authority that he is interested. He's just not ready to fuck.'
    Duo stared at him.
    Trowa winked, looking back to the book he'd been staring at.

- -

    “What's wrong?” Quatre asked, brushing Duo’s bangs back to see his face better, curious. Duo'd been very reclusive since Quatre had joined him, and Trowa had basically run off. No one else was in the library.
    Duo pulled back very slightly, catching Quatre's wrist and blinking as they met eyes, drawing Quatre's hand to his mouth and kissing his knuckles lightly, watching to see the response.
    Quatre felt a flutter in the region of his groin or stomach–he wasn't sure which–and blinked.
    Duo grinned, sitting up and standing slightly to lean across the table, brushing his lips lightly over Quatre's.
    Quatre froze, catching his breath–then pressed his tongue against Duo's.
    Duo pulled back slightly, studying his eyes, then grinned, winking and sitting again. “We need to talk,” he declared normally. “At home.”
    Quatre's pulse was racing and he wasn't thinking clearly, his head was almost swimming. He swallowed and looked around before focusing on Duo again. “Let's go now.”

- -

    “Where the hell are they?” Heero snapped, shifting his backpack as he looked past Hilde at the building.
    “They went home halfway through seventh,” Hilde muttered, raising an eyebrow. “You really should pay more attention. That's what Duo was telling me.”
    “They left?” Heero asked blankly. “Where did they go?”
    “Home,” she shrugged, then grinned. “Duo looked a little flushed.
    She could have laughed out loud when Heero left her standing there, getting into his beat up piece of shit car and squealed from the parking lot.
    “That would be Quatre's doing,” Wufei informed her proudly, moving around the corner of the building with Relena.
    “Oh would it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
    “Yes,” Wufei replied. “It is. I was in the library and I saw them kiss. Quatre's the one that suggested…”
    “They kissed!?” both girls chorused.
    Wufei laughed delightedly.

- -

    Duo and Quatre jumped, turning to the bedroom door as Heero slammed it open, glaring at them both. “What the fuck are you doing!?” he snapped at Duo.
    Duo stared at him, shocked. “I'm making out…with Quatre. I'd think that'd be obvious.”
    “And what about me?” Heero snapped, hands on hips.
    “What about you?” Duo replied, raising an eyebrow.
    Quatre, however, sat up, making a shushing gesture at Duo as his head cleared again. “Though he could have phrased it nicer,” he muttered, studying Heero, “he does have a point.”
    Hero glared at him, then looked to Duo. “What? Because I'm not some slut I'm not interested in a relationship?”
    Duo raised an eyebrow. “I'll kill you now. Go away. Leave me the fuck alone…get out of here you fucking fag…tell, me, do these sound like sweet nothings to you?”
    Heero flushed, looking away.
    Duo stood slowly, studying Heero. “I don't always try to fuck you and you know it.”
    Heero was still flushing as he looked down.
    “Actually, numerous times I simply tried to start a conversation, and what did you do? Told me to leave, told me to shut-up, ignored me…You know, I originally only wanted to be your friend, but a challenge is too fun. Especially when you win,” he smirked slightly.
    “Please, Duo,” Quatre muttered, standing as well. He didn't want Duo to actually hurt Heero. Heero had enough emotional scars without that. “Heero…if you were interested in him, why didn't you just…”
    “He only wanted to fuck…ever,” Heero snapped, focusing completely on Quatre. “Everything he says pertains to sex. It's not like with you, he doesn't always check out your ass when you walk by. He doesn't always shut-up when I give him a look…he doesn't keep his hands to himself. It kinda makes it hard to take him seriously, though I saw how he was with you. I knew he could act normally…but he only wanted to fuck me…”
    “I'm seventeen years old, Heero, what the hell do you think is on my mind when I'm looking at a hot guy?”
    “I'm not hot?” Quatre snapped.
    Duo grinned, looking him over. “We were friends, it's a respect thing.”
    Heero bristled.
    Duo sighed, focusing on Heero. “The point is, Heero, that you never showed me any kind of interest…”
    “And he did?” Heero demanded, gesturing at Quatre.
    Quatre blushed.
    Duo didn't look at him. “To an extent. At least he was my friend.”
    “Was?” Quatre asked, upset.
    Duo smiled slightly at him. “I think we're more than friends, Quatre.”
    Heero stormed from the room.

- -

    The house was silent as Quatre moved quietly into Heero's room, sitting next to his friend on the bed, though Heero ignored him. He wasn't sure what to say, startled to see a bottle of alcohol–clear something–next to the bed. “Heero?” he asked finally.
    Heero, who was basically curled into a ball, continued to ignore him.
    Quatre sighed. “You know…with how much trash talk you were doing…I didn't have any idea how you felt.”
    “I'm seventeen years old getting hit on by a bisexual guy in front of everyone in school. I don't fit in as it is…and you expect me to admit that I'm attracted to him?”
    “To your friends, yes,” Quatre replied.
    “You never said anything.”
    “I didn't realize anything until last Saturday.”
    “Took you a whole week to get into his bed…yeah, I believe you.”
    “Actually,” Quatre muttered, getting annoyed, “we were in my bed. I thought you paid more attention than that.”
    Heero turned to glower at him.
    “You can try to take him from me now,” Quatre added, “and though it will cause me pain, I won't stop you if you succeed,” he started for the door. “If.”
    Heero sat up, picking up the bottle of liquor. “Hey, Quatre?”
    Quatre turned to look at him curiously.
    Heero toasted him with the bottle. “To the pain.”


"Whatever Lola Wants" by Sarah Vaughn