Chapter Seventeen

"How do you think he became like this, 'Fei?"

Zechs' soft voice seemed as garish as a curse in the flat silence. The sudden appearance of the tall man by his side caused a flush of guilt to run through Wufei, the oriental man averting his eyes from the sight before him. He hadn't meant to come down here, really. The place felt wrong, and yet he couldn't have helped himself. His feet had brought him down, padding across the floor slowly as he made his way into the depths of the castle dungeons.

Somehow, he just knew that he had to see him. He just... had to know why. Gain back some sense of control, some sense of power over himself, take back his strength. And maybe some part of him thought that seeing that man, when he wasn't half paralyzed with shock and fear – although he wouldn't have so easily admitted to those feelings – would help him to... remember himself again.

He smoothed a hand over the top of his head, desperate for something to do that could alleviate the growing weight pressing on his chest. All at once, the chill from being this far beneath the ground seemed to seep into his skin, dragged into his bone. He edged back surreptitiously, trying not to seem overtly eager to lean into the line of Zechs' body behind him. It wasn't his fault if the other man always chose to stand so damned close.

Only when he could hear the light rustling of their outer garments shifting against each other, did he find an answer.

"He wanted too much," Wufei said slowly, unsure if he was giving the right response. Honestly, he didn't know himself, how anyone born human could be reduced to such a state, to doing such things. He shuddered inside, at the blood-covered bare skin, at the rags that the man had himself formed out of his clothing. Yet some part of him was resigned to the fact that there would always be things that would elude him, and the intricate workings of the mind, and all its twisted forms, would forever be one of them. Perhaps it was possible to instead seek comfort in the things he did know, and the things that would make themselves known to him.

Wanting some reaffirmation, Wufei reached out behind him, intending to take Zechs' hand in his. But instead, Zechs grasped at his shoulder, long fingers digging in painfully. Wufei instructed himself not to wince, but suddenly couldn't quite make himself turn to face the other man. Drawing in a deep breath, he finally did so, loosening the tight grip and looking up into the familiar face. Zechs' expression made him regret not doing so sooner, so wretched was it. He hadn't realized before just how much this was hurting Zechs, a fact which he berated himself for. Of course Zechs was hurting. This was the man with links to Zechs' family like no other! And yet he had seemed to composed, so together...

Perhaps sometimes it really did take seeing to believe, and to make emotion real.

He shouldn't have come down here, shouldn't have caused Zechs to follow him... but perhaps, in some cruel way, it was a good thing he did. Wufei tugged determinedly at the cloth of Zechs' upper garment, forcing him to fall slightly into Wufei. As he did, he crumbled, in the most infinitesimal of ways, pressing their bodies together and dipping his face to rest in the arc of Wufei's shoulder. He breathed, each exhalation a puff of pain that Wufei thought he could almost touch. reached around Wufei to run his fingers agitatedly through the dark, silky strands.

"Why?" Zechs asked, pulling back slightly and shaking his head from side to side. "I just... Why?" He brought one hand up around Wufei, reaching to run his fingers agitatedly through the dark, silky strands as if touch could somehow make everything better, a panacea. Maybe, at that moment, it almost was.

Still, once again there was no answer, and it would have been to harsh for Zechs to have expected one. Wufei searched for words anyway, and finally, he said lowly, "He placed all his hopes on one dream, I think. On one impossible dream, balanced on one person. Shaped his life around it, and when the dream broke apart, it let the madness in."

Zechs took Wufei's face almost roughly into his hands. "Don't we all?" he demanded, an edge of desperation in his voice, even as he kept it low. "How can you say that? Like... like it makes sense, like that is something that could happen to any of us? We have dreams, 'Fei. It gives us reason to live. Don't you believe that?"

Wufei didn't like the way Zechs' eyes had grown so very large, the way his breathing had thickened, and it almost made him regret his words. He shifted his head slightly, but Zechs didn't let go, although his touch grew somewhat gentler, thumb tracing tiny circles on Wufei's cheeks. The dark-haired man only lowered narrowed eyes as an answer, and Zechs went on, quietly, sorrowfully.

"I place all my hopes in you, 'Fei. I don't know when I started, but at some moment I think I realized that I couldn't remember a time without you by my side, and now I don't dare envisage one that doesn't have you there too. I place in you all my dreams, all I have, all of me."

His words were alarming, but the sudden softness in the way he trailed faint designs on Wufei's skin, the sadness in his voice, made it easier for Wufei to reply.

"No," he told Zechs firmly, refusing to let the look of horror stop his words or force him to retract his statement. "No. You most certainly do not. You placed your hopes in us, Zechs. In what we have together, in what we will build together. For us, you and me. This is nothing like what he did. You are nothing like what he is, and I most certainly am not, either. Believe me, Zechs. Because you are so much more than that. You have faith in yourself. And that is why I love you. We both know that."

Wufei's barrage of words came out so quickly, tumbling over each other in his desperation say what he needed before stuttering to a sudden pause when his breath fell short. Then he smiled upwards and said, very deliberately, "I love you, Zechs."

It was the first time it had sounded so real.

At last, finally, Zechs smiled, and his hands dropped down to interlink their fingers together. For one brief, precious moment, the air around them formed a protective bubble, closing the two into a place where everything was wonderful, and it was okay to smile always.

Too quickly it ended, as a deep, guttural moan invaded the air. The man started to spasm, then his flailing motions stilled abruptly and his eyes snapped open, disturbingly large, all white and no pupil.

Zechs shuddered, and Wufei would have, but for the fact that he knew it would only serve to further trouble the other man. A heavy scowl dragged down his lips and he decided that no longer could he bear this place. Tigtening his hold on Zechs' hands, he pulled him around the corner, placing the stone wall firmly between them and the ghastly sight of the man who was now mumbling incoherently. The stairs leading out of the dungeons were now directly before them, but before Wufei started to move up them, there was still something troubling him. It wanted to be said, and perhaps there was no better place than within these ugly grey stone walls.

"Listen to me, Zechs."

Their unexpected halt meant that he was already looking at Wufei expectantly, but Wufei had to be sure Zechs was listening, had to be sure that he understood Wufei meant every word of what he was about to say. Je reached up to tug firmly at the blond hair falling over Zechs' shoulder, which made Zechs' lips threaten to tip upwards. Wufei felt his own inch into a half-smile; an action he knew would only make it harder for Zechs to hide a growing affectionate smile. When Zechs attempted, and failed, the smile lit up his face and thrilled Wufei in more than one way. It warmed him, that he could know the other man so well – even now, as he spoke with a steely edge in his voice and tried to stifle his need to press his lips against Zechs'.

"You make sure you believe what I said, okay? And don't you dare, don't you dare ever compare yourself with him again. Don't ever allow yourself to do that, because if you start, I will know, and I..." He breathed hard, dark eyes fierce.

"You...?" Zechs asked, tilting his head to the side. His long hair moved with him, and a few strands came to caress lightly upon 'Fei's cheek.

"I'll do this," Wufei told him, and affirmed his statement with a determined, driving kiss.

"I see," Zechs murmured, when it ended. His lips looked... ravished now, and suddenly Wufei was determined to be out of this place, back into the library, were there was comfort and warmth. Or better still, in their rooms, where there was a welcoming bed and feather comforters waiting for them.

The sparkle, the glistening in Zechs' eyes told Wufei quite surely that the blond was thinking the same.

Their hands found each other as they made their way back up, out of the dark and shadows at last, and away from the man who had curled into himself and cried out to an entity only there to him.

He didn't need to feel abandoned, because he never was. That would never happen, because his struggles, his actions, had not been for nothing. No, he was not abandoned. His future stretched on before him, glistening crimson in its glory.

The voice had come to be his master, and his master would lead him out away from the stench of this place, forced upon him by his bastard son.

He trembled in his anticipation, waiting for the voice that would come. Sometimes when he heard it, it hurt. But pain was a good thing, pain was what he needed to get what he wanted, what he had always wanted, and pain now would meant lots more pain later... for all those fools who had dared to put him here, dared to get in his way...

Yes, lots and lots of pain...

The universe around him began to whisper, and he could, he could feel the voice coming, nearing him. Eager, waiting, he fell still, and then...

The voice fell upon him, and he could have cried out with the heat of the joy rushing through him.

It was time...

The voice whispered to him, the words dripping into his ears letter by letter, and after each one he etched them into his soul, repeating them to himself, reveling in their perfection.

He wouldn't do wrong. This time, everything would be perfect...

Then he stilled. No... no, that was wrong, what it told him. He couldn't do that. The bastard had to pay, had to pay for his sins and that of his bitch mother.

The voice pacified him, calm and never ceasing. It understood, but there was only one way it could be done...

And he understood, but he couldn't let the wretched blond boy bastard go. No, no... he had to have what he wanted... Had to have the bastard scream, scream with pain, even if it was at the end, even if it was the last thing that he did...

And so it started to hurt. He could feel little things popping in his head, feel something gorging at the backs of his eyes, and he clawed at himself with his nails, the slickness of new blood mingling with the layers dried upon his skin. The sound of a barrage of rain throbbed insistently, he thought he saw flashes like that of lightning, gold, striking at him and knocking him over... too much, too much pain that it bordered on something else...

When it stopped, he was left strangely calm.

Yes, the voice, his master, the way, had decided. He would do what he had to do now, now that he understood completely.

And besides, he liked it this way too. This way he could have the violet eyes, and they would not be taken from him. No... they were promised, now.

They were his.

And the voice whispered more still, and he fell into the sound, murmuring those pleasant words to himself as he listened, and rejoiced.

He rejoiced, while small, sharp eyes watched. Keen ears strained to pick up the sounds emanating from his lips, struggled to put them into words and make sense of them, translate them into something that could be properly relayed on.

Then the eyes widened, young at last in their surprise, at the sudden shock of realization.

And the boy ran, soundlessly, to pass on what he had heard.

And to get away.

The thing was, Duo couldn't remember drifting off to sleep. But he must have, because this was most definitely a dream. He knew this, even though it was a vastly different dream to all the others, in that he could clearly recognize it for what it was.

In a way, that was nice, to know that there was a chance that it would not end terribly. Though it didn't seem to want to end any time soon, and neither did he wish for it to.

Because he was kissing the prince.

It was a brilliant kiss, too. Heero was charged with a strange kind of energy, taking charge in the way they angled their heads, in the way their noses bumped lightly. Heero delved in to force their lips together, again and again, and Duo was perfectly content in the way he was leading things. Sometimes their lips touched together lightly, before Heero would get agitated and make the kiss stronger, firmer, like each one was a message needing to be seared into Duo's soul.

Then the prince pulled away, and it was Duo's turn to grow agitated, as he moved his face closer, demanding the kisses resumed like before. Heero kept his face an aggravating distance away, and after an irritated sound wrenched its way from his throat, the bard gave up and opened his eyes to glare disapprovingly at the prince before him.

Having got what he had wanted, Heero spared a smug twisting of lips before his face took on a careful expression. Duo shivered at the scrutiny, almost looking away, and then – his back was against a wall. But it wasn't golden, like all those that filled the palace. No, it was a unique, deep green colour, strangely warm for its type. Heero planted his hands against the wall, an action which Duo found odd, though he couldn't quite remember why. And then Heero's fingers, long and slender, perfectly shaped, dragged their way around the slightly textured surface, inching towards Duo's face.

The bard grew alarmed, and his breath drew itself from his lungs more difficultly as he wondered what it was he feared so much.

But when Heero's touch, warm and careful, fell upon his cheeks, he found there nothing to fear, and all the harsh emotions were dispelled.

"Please," he felt himself whisper. Heero's eyes were so close now, their amazing blue gripping at something deep within his and pulling it up to lodge in his throat.

Heero chuckled, and as the sound made its way from the prince's vocal chords, Duo fancied that he heard, "Anything."

And their lips met again, and as Heero held him, all became wonderful. While it lasted.

So when Duo felt wakening prick at the edges of his subconscious, and felt himself being drawn away from that iridescent place, he thought he could have cried. Pressing a palm against his forehead, he wondered at the ache in his back, the slight discomfort in his head that usually accompanied those rare moments that he suffered from oversleep.

Duo might not have been able to remember falling asleep, but now he was greatly regretting ever doing so. Although he couldn't say that it had been entirely without its merits, either – that had been quite a dream, and the only thing that he regretted more than having slept in the first place was being forced awake.

By a warm, lean body moving against his.

Well, that definitely made waking more appealing. Suddenly wide awake once more, Duo forced his eyes open wide, and peered upward carefully, to ensure exactly what he was seeing was accurate.

It was. The prince was straightening his spine, rolling his shoulders before reaching a hand upwards to rub at his eyes. His hair had flattened at the back, and now stood up haphazardly. And then Duo recalled his last memory, which was the way he had positioned himself at Heero's feet, curling his legs and leaning his head against Heero's lap. After they had kissed. A lot.

Small wonder that sleep had claimed him, if he had put himself in such a position. Still, it was shocking that he had allowed himself to fall asleep in the middle of the day, and Duo felt almost ashamed. Though that wasn't what was occupying most of his mind...

Apart from the way some part of him grinned widely at seeing Heero half-awake – he seemed to have had the honour of doing so quite a bit these last few days, and Duo felt he could really get used to it – there was something else his mind was clamoring for him to notice.

There was the faintest of pink brushing against the cheeks of the prince. It was quite a sight to behold, and Duo both expected and didn't prevent the way his eyes widened even more, as he craned his neck further upwards, to get as close to Heero as possible without having to pressure his cramped legs.

Heero noticed the overt movement, and froze suddenly, before glaring fiercely at the bard. His shoulders snapped back, and his eyes narrowed, his regal upbringing at once present.

But Duo had better things to stare at.

Because Heero's eyes seemed to get deeper as he edged his way forward, really straining his neck as his legs made known their unwillingness to rise. And Duo's breathing was shortening, and again something twisted tight in his throat.

"Please," he heard, startled when he realized that there was no one who could have said it but him. The word echoed around the room in a way he didn't remember the dream doing, a rough reminded of what he had said. Duo started to tuck his chin back against his chest, acutely unsure.

Then there was a low chuckle, just as warm as anything Duo could have dreamt up, but real, practically tangible. "Anything," said Heero, before taking Duo's lips in a kiss.

The way the air seemed to swirl around him, mimicking the rush of blood in his body, and he sank into the moment, was something he would remember for a long, long time.

Duo lay, splayed out across the floor, not having moved a muscle since he had first thrown himself upon the floor of Heero's room. They had kissed for so long, and it had felt just like one extended feeling of bliss, with each lingering touch and shared breath melting into the next.

When at last Duo had been able to pull himself away, his conscious was finally able to take control – and the small, insistant part of him demanded he at least consider what he was doing. Up till that point, his mind had not been able to function with his body so closely pressed against the prince's, but now it threatened to quickly warp into an unceasing barrage of consternation.

So, unwillingly, with a parting smile that could only convey the tiniest fraction of the acute joy Duo was feeling, he had pulled himself away and thrown himself against the lush carpet, which had the barest sheens of gold within its many strands of material. As he moved away, he noticed the way Heero's hands were still carefully clamped around the arms of his chair, and the bard's heart ached and warmed at the same time. Heero did care. It was impossible to believe anything else. While Duo had had the luxury of running his fingers through Heero's thick, dark-brown locks, of trailing them down the back of Heero's neck and tracing the prince's jawline, Heero had no such option. And while Duo may have forgotten about the curse the entire time they had spent together, it was clearly evident that Heero hadn't.

Duo resisted the urge to bite his bottom lip as he tried not to focus on the junction between Heero's hands and the gold of the chair. Instead, he decided to indulge in another study of the prince's beautiful features: the lines of his jaw and his chin, his lips and his nose and his eyes and the curve of dark eyelashes. As he did so, he noticed that Heero's grip was starting to slacken, Heero slowly releasing his body from the taught lines that he always maintained whenever near another person.

Suddenly desperate to compel Heero into a smile, while alloying himself a childish instinctual desire, Duo moved himself so he was stretched out upon his stomach, keeping his eyes on Heero's as he did so. Then, resting on his arms, he moved his cheek against the heavy texture of the carpet. It was just as soft as he could have expected, and the individual strands whispered at him with each motion. It was a lovely feeling, an enchanting softness, and Duo beamed, oddly satisfied. Then he flung his head backwards, feeling his satisfaction grow as he watched Heero wrestle the beginnings of a smile from his lips.

And after resting his head back down, he hadn't moved again, until he heard the prince speak.

"What did your friends say?" Heero asked him. The prince had moved to examine a painting that hung from his wall, and had his back towards Duo.

"Huh?"

Heero turned around, expression inscrutable. "You first left the training rooms because you told me you wanted to talk to your friends. Well? Did you get a satisfactory response from them?"

Duo laughed lightly. "It was nothing so important to worry about, Heero. I just wanted to see them again, clear up some words that had passed. Nothing's wrong, and I have a feeling our stay here has been quite a beneficial one for all of us!"

Heero raised an eyebrow, saying nothing, but continued to look at Duo.

Taking advantage of what was apparently a good time to talk, Duo asked the question that had been bothering him for too long now. The atmosphere, both within the castle and between him and the prince, seemed to change so rapidly that it was hard to keep track of each shift. And it was comfortable now, between them. He was in Heero's room, there had been a warmth, a gentleness, in the way their lips had met, and Duo hoped that meant that the prince at least trusted Duo now, and knew that anything Duo said was not judgmental, nor accusatory in any way.

"What do you plan on doing with... that man?" Duo bit his lip, and studied Heero's face carefully for any changes in his expression.

"That man?" Heero repeated, looking thoughtful. "I had never noticed him before than day, to be completely honest. I think he had a daughter..."

"Relena," Duo said. "He did. Her name was Relena."

Heero's eyes widened imperceptibly. "You knew her?"

Duo breathed deeply, wondering if he should be saying what he was. "She was Zechs' sister. He knew her; I never did."

There was a stagnant pause. "I touched her," Heero said, almost casually flinging out the words between them.

"Yes," said Duo, chest tight. "I saw. I... saw her."

"Oh," Heero said. He wouldn't take his eyes away from Duo, and it was a hard gaze to bear for long.

"What are you going to do with him?" Duo repeated insistently. The words came out quickly, like he was ashamed of wanting to know, and irritation rose in his chest.

"Maybe your friend should decide," Heero said, moving closer. Duo finally, unwillingly, rose from the floor and fell into Heero's chair.

"Really?" Duo asked. He hadn't thought the prince would have said that, and it would have been touching had there been any emotion within the prince's voice.

"He means nothing to me," Heero said carelessly. "And so it would not be my place to dictate his fate." He narrowed his eyes meaningfully at the bard. "Life and death have blurred their meaning before me."

There were too many ways to take that statement, and multiple ways of replying, so Duo chose instead to give Heero a small smile and tell him, "I'll make sure to let Zechs know what you said."

"I killed people, you know," Heero told him, before Duo had even finished his words. "I meant to. Deliberately. Because they bothered me, because I decided I didn't like them, because I wanted to." The prince slowed his words towards the end, and each one lingered.

Duo felt his blood threaten to grow cold, felt his heart pulse angrily at what the prince said, so easily. Then he remembered the way Heero had gripped the seat at their embraces, remembered how only Heero had ever been able to make joy rise buoyantly within him, remembered the sound of Heero's voice:

"I'm sorry, Duo."

He slowed his breathing carefully, waiting to ensure an even tone would emanate from his mouth. "Why are you telling me this, Heero?"

"Because I want you to know! I need you to know the man you touch so easily, the one you can embrace so casually – I want you to know what I've done." Heero made a low hissing as he breathed in through gritted teeth. "I'm not human, Duo. In more ways than one."

Duo understood, finally. He walked to the prince, reached up to take his chin between his fingers. "You are, Heero. No amount of curses, no amount of deaths could take that away from you, not while you still sound like that when you talk to me." Duo laughed briefly. "You may be a hell of a bastard, but you are most definitely human. And I don't embrace you casually, damn you. You're the only one I… and it's the furthest thing from casual. Don't cheapen what we... what we do."

He had hoped his words would ease the stiff line of the prince's back, but instead it had tightened. "Did your friends say something about me?" Heero asked, subtle anger infused with the words.

Duo felt himself begin to grow alarmed. "Why would you say that?"

Heero laughed, a hard sound of fury. "I know what they all say about me. That I'm a bastard. I know. I know what they all think, and I know your friends believe the same thing. Now you must, too. Maybe I was a fool to ask you to stay."

Duo growled angrily, the heat in his body in part from frustration. He thought they had got past this, thought that the new angle of their relationship meant that they were getting closer to breaking the curse, getting closer to the day when Heero could trust him, to know that he wasn't going anywhere. But this was too much – he was insulting his friends.

And some fraction of Duo's anger was because he knew that to a certain extent, the actions of all those that Heero had around him, and Quatre's words in the library, justified Heero's suspicions.

The bard flung his head around angrily. "Shut up!" he shouted finally. "Gods, you... you... you infuriate me!"

Heero lunged forward suddenly. "What did you say?" he hissed, and it was barely a question. His face had twisted into something hard and angry and almost terrifying, if only because it was the same face that Duo had awoken to find the most beautiful one he had even seen before.

Duo only fed on the anger, his own and the prince's, and his words came out a lot more biting than he had expected. "If you act like this, no wonder they call you a bastard."

The moment they had been said, Duo felt the anger rush from him, replaced immediately with a shame that made him bite down on his tongue. He swallowed, and attempted to apologise, but he never got that far.

In one swift move, the prince's arm was across Duo's throat, and had he been pushing just a little bit more, Duo wouldn't be able to breathe. As it was, the bard was already having significant trouble, as his half-formed apology was trapped in his throat, never to surface.

Self-preservation quickly took over, although even then there was a piece of Duo that believed whole-heartedly that the prince would never let himself hurt Duo. Knowing the prince couldn't touch him with his hands, Duo pressed his palms to Heero's chest and pushed – hard. The prince lost his balance, falling backwards ungracefully and landing on the floor, eyes flashing angrily – but still, there was an acute awareness in the way he glared, and that soothed Duo somewhat. This may have been something close to a fight, but it was not one with a Heero that had been taken over by a madness.

It was still Heero, though.

"Don't," Duo bit out, when he saw the prince clamber up quickly, going for his sword, which lay suspended upon the wall nearest the prince. "Just don't you dare." He gave a twisted grin, a shuddering sigh of disgust that Heero would even entertain that thought, after everything. "Hell, your highness, if you really want me to leave so damn much, then I will!"

And every ounce of him believing in that statement, he turned, searching for an exit, carried by the anger, albeit weaker, that had once again trickled into his blood. Heero beat him there, standing in his path before Duo could move very far in the direction of the doorway. And with a positively vicious glint in his eye, the shorthaired prince forced Duo against the nearest wall, bearing upon him and allowing his minute height difference to seem so much greater as the prince angled his face downwards.

They were almost painfully close together, Heero's arms placed on either side of the wall next to Duo, trapping him there, in an almost mimicry of what had occurred within Duo's dream.

"What are you going to do?" Duo challenged, half-thinking he had gone mad. Himself or Heero, he didn't quite know. Perhaps they were both...

"Insane. You're insane," Heero hissed accusingly, and with that, he ducked his head to the side, catching Duo's lips in a bruising kiss.

Mind half in the moment and half in the clouds somewhere, it took moments before the bard could return the kiss – which he did with fervor, lips catching up with the situation much faster than his mind did. It was instinct now, to move his mouth against Heero's whenever he felt that pleasing pressure.

Heero had eased off somewhat, but his hands where still firmly placed on the wall – where they couldn't hurt Duo. And even then that fact didn't escape Duo's notice, and even then something warmed at the reassurance that came along with it.

Pulling back slightly, Duo swooped back in for the kill, nipping gently, then harder, at Heero's lips. He slid his arms upwards, running his fingers gently through Heero's soft hair.

The prince's arms were shuddering slightly from strain of keeping his palms in place whist leaning in against Duo without placing too much pressure. Wanting to knock the serious expression from his face, Duo bumped their noses lightly together. He chuckled at the confused expression that met him, and aligned their lips again.

A kiss later and Duo leant against the wall. "I wish you could hold me," he whispered, ignoring the flush that ran through his cheeks at his words.

"I wish I could touch you," Heero shot back challengingly, regretfully, almost gently, and Duo felt that he was finally seeing more of Heero than before, the Heero that had been locked up for so long, for too long. The next words were barely real, barely able to be heard as they moved between the two. "Want to hold you, touch you…"

But Duo did hear. And something jumped inside, thrilled; he felt his arms tingle. "All over," Duo whispered in return, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips.

They were so close now, that nothing that was said could possibly hurt. It made it easy, then, to say anything, and Heero did. "Mmm, all over," Heero rumbled, his voice a brilliant deep tone that sank deep into Duo's skin to tremble beneath.

Duo's breath hitched. It had never quite felt like that before, like with each touch they were coming closer to something, something far more brilliant... He did the only thing he could do, he initiated the kiss, bringing their lips together and moving his own against Heero's hurriedly before he paused, letting them rest against each other, taking in Heero's breath and returning with his own.

"Don't go," Heero whispered finally, the words forming against the bard's own lips, never ever leaving the space between them. Heero angled his head slightly away, to reaffirm the words by meeting Duo's eyes.

And in that moment, as their lips met once more and little shivers were sent up Duo's spine, the bard knew with searing clarity that nothing could ever make him.

A/N: Huge huge hugs and thanks for the very awesome Kate, who both betas and reminds me how long it's been since I've last written/posted. Couldn't do this without you!

A huge note of apology – when I thought about editing this for posting I realized I had forgotten which chapter I had last posted, meaning that waaaay too long has past. Life in the form of school has really been kicking my ass, and writing has taken a back seat for quite awhile now. I don't really foresee it getting any better in the next year, but I have about three more chapters written that I should be able to post somewhat sporadically, until I get my life back again. No promises for when the next chapter will appear, but I hope whenever it does you'll be kind enough to stick around and read!

Also – I winced a little, when rereading this. Not too sure why – overly critical, or maybe it's just been too long since I've worked on it, but... At any rate, I hope it didn't disappoint.

As always, thanks for the reviews – I may not have time to write, but I do read them, and I appreciate the support so very much. You guys are great!

Finally – just wondering. Although I have very little time to work on Heart, I do occasionally write short drabbles, for one reason or another. If I were to post these, say on lj, would anyone be interested? They're mainly original pieces, and very short. I'm interested to know if anyone would read – or if you'd much rather I concentrated on Heart instead!