A/N: Many thanks to Dyna Dee, for the inspiration, and to Kaeru Shisho for editing, improvements and glorious artwork. If you would like to see the picture that goes with this, please send me your email address.
A/N 2: No woolly mammoths, squid men or kittens were harmed during the making of this story.
Once in a Blue Moon:
'It's all right, Quat. No biggie.' It was harder than usual to drag the trademark grin into place, especially looking at my friend's concerned expression. 'I'm fine.' That came out with a bit more force than I'd planned.
Quatre just looked at me, big blue eyes shining out of the vid screen with concern and affection.
It's this thing he does. Other people, when you tell them your world – the world you've carefully spent years constructing out of damn near nothing - has pretty much crashed and burned, will rush to offer platitudes and advice and alcohol and I told you so's and then start talking about the last time they had a bad hair day or whatever.
Quatre just – listens, and waits, and it's devastating.
'Yeah,' I muttered finally, when I finished the whole sorry tale, scrubbing one hand across my eyes. 'So that's it. Sorry I'm being such a girl about it.'
'Duo.' He said it very softly. 'It's all right to feel like that. You thought he was your friend, if nothing else.'
I just shrugged. 'It's OK. At least now, I know. I wanted that, to know how he really felt. Guess I got what I wanted, right?'
He sighed. 'Do you want me to talk to him?'
'God, no. I just want to forget the whole thing. Look, can we talk about something else. Please, Q?'
He gave me one last, searching glance and then nodded, launching into the details of the new Winner satellite under construction, and following that up with some cutesy stories of some of his nieces' and nephews' latest pranks. I was actually grinning when we dialled off, and had a firm promise that he and Trowa would be back on Earth in the next couple of weeks.
That would be good, having my friends close by. My real friends, who cared about me. Until two days ago, I'd actually thought Heero had been one of them.
I'd thought that. I'd been wrong.
I'd asked Heero Yuy, my friend, the guy I'd thought was my best friend on a date. Two days ago.
It had taken six damn years for me to find the courage.
We'd been allies, sort of, during the war. I'd shot him twice and he'd let me. He'd fucking desecrated my Gundam, out of pure malice. Asshole. Howard had already offered him the parts he needed for Wing.
He hadn't killed me.
He'd saved the planet.
I'd fallen for him somewhere along the way. It had been manageable enough; the guy wasn't interested in anything but carrying out his missions. Even if he had been, it wasn't like we'd been able to take time off for the whole dinner and a movie thing.
It hadn't been that big a deal. I'd chalked it up to experience, finding out that I obviously had a thing for dark-haired, blue-eyed guys in spandex with the odd suicidal tendency.
After the war, we'd all ended up fast–tracked through high school courses and then attending different universities; part of some kind of rehabilitation project. I wasn't sure if anyone knew what else exactly to do with a bunch of teenagers who'd been running around the universe for the best part of a year, armed with their own personal weapons of mass destruction.
I did my degree at MIT; Heero went to Tokyo. We didn't see each other for three years. There'd been a few emails. Quatre was good at keeping in touch, and instigated group messages every month or so. In the last year of our degrees, Heero and I started writing to each other, sharing links for horrific Japanese B-movies at the beginning and then randomly passing on things we'd found funny or interesting, with the odd little personal message.
We both joined Preventers with the same batch of new recruits, and somehow gravitated together. We started being friends after a few months, rather than just two people with mutual friends and some shared experiences.
Heero began waiting for me to go to lunch; we car pooled on days when we were both in the office; we tried to go to the gym together after work. Somehow, that gradually turned into movie nights with a drink or a meal after, and then Saturdays at my house, with him helping me work on whatever car or bike I was restoring, and the odd weekend away, rock-climbing or hiking.
When he came out to me, nearly a year ago, it wasn't so much a shock that he was gay, as that he was capable of sexual attraction in the first place. I'd never seen any signs of it. I'd half-thought that maybe whatever training he'd been put through had just killed any capacity for sexuality or intimacy that he'd been capable of.
I think I might have been the first person he told. He was pretty matter-of-fact about the whole thing. If you hadn't known him, you might have thought he was expressing a preference for one brand of potato chips over another. I'd known him pretty well, and he wasn't nearly as cool as he was trying to make out.
That was the night I'd realised I was done; stitched up, totally. I'd spent years rationalising my attraction to Heero Yuy. I'd been fifteen when I'd met him; a crazy mass of adrenalin and hormones and whatever chemical cocktails the good doctor had been pumping into my system. I'd probably have fallen for Une if I'd met her first. (Gag).
After the war, I'd still kidded myself. Yeah, he was hot, and I wasn't really seriously into anyone else, and I obviously needed someone to fixate on, and it wouldn't last, not once I met a guy I really liked. It was harmless.
With Heero on my couch, not quite daring to look me in the eye as he told me he preferred men, I'd realised just how much I'd been deluding myself. I loved the guy. Utterly, completely, to the nth fucking power. And there was zilch I could do about it.
It wasn't just his looks, or the scary-level intelligence, or the odd sense of humour that I totally got. It was the whole package. (The whole other package. The other one was great too.)
So there I was. My best friend, the guy I loved with all my heart, sitting a couple of inches away from me and telling me he liked guys. What would you have done? What I didn't do was the one thing I desperately wanted to. It would have been just tacky to run around whooping for joy and then ask if he wanted to try out the practical part. With me.
This was his moment and it was a major deal for him. We were close, I was probably the person he was closest to, and he still wasn't big into confiding stuff.
I poured us a couple of beers and just talked a bit about the whole gay thing, generally. Sanque was a liberal country, and Preventers was a pretty tolerant work place, but not everyone in the universe felt like that. Of course, he'd done his research, and probably knew more anti anti-discrimination laws than the legislators themselves did. He'd read stuff I'd never heard off about Ancient Greece and something called the Stonewall Riots. He could probably have written a thesis on Homosexuality through the Ages.
Instead, we talked about some people's attitudes, and how they might change toward him. I told him how he'd walk into rooms and catch the tail end of jokes and sniggers; about how cashiers would give him a quick once-over when he had lube in his shopping basket; how people would judge him differently once they knew.
Things changed after that, just a bit. It wasn't just the gay guy lusting after the hot, straight best friend any more. There were – possibilities. Like, maybe, he might be interested.
He dated, on and off. I met some of them; enough to work out the Heero Yuy type. Nothing like me. He tended to go for sophisticated, slightly older guys who'd travelled, liked designer clothes, liked arty stuff. It made me think that there might be a scary alternate universe out there where he was with Treize Khushrenada.
None of his boyfriends ever lasted long. He would casually drop the news that he wasn't seeing So-and-so any more, and did I fancy meeting up at the weekend to see that film I'd been talking about?
Me, I saw people on and off. For about a year, after I joined Preventers, I had this idea that if I couldn't have Heero, I wasn't going to settle for anyone. Hormones pretty much took care of that, eventually. I wasn't a player, exactly, but I wasn't sitting at home every night with the remote control and a cup of cocoa either.
The thing was – Heero and I kind of were dating. In a platonic, friends – only way. There were people at work who thought we were a couple. I'd never been quite sure if Heero was aware of that.
A month ago, we went out for dinner. Wufei'd been away so it had just been the four of us. The hostess at the fancy French bistro Quatre had chosen clearly thought she was dealing with two couples, and Heero just as clearly hadn't minded, had even seemed a little pleased. Halfway through the meal, he and I started this stupid squabble over something or other, and Trowa had teased us about being like an old, married couple. Heero had just looked over at me and given me a tiny flicker of a smile.
Maybe, maybe, my brain had dared to suggest, he might be interested. Maybe I could finally psych myself up to ask him out on an actual date.
I'd thought of the worst case scenario.
He'd say no, that would be it. OK, he could say it with varying degrees of embarrassment or distaste or dismissal or downright revulsion, but I didn't think that would happen. He wouldn't treat me like that. He wouldn't be cruel.
The date would have to be special. We did all the usual stuff – meals out and movies and trips to the shooting range and helping each other with cars and bikes – as a matter of course. I wanted this to be special. A date date.
We'd been to most of the city's snazzy restaurants, whenever Quat was visiting, or with work. We'd already hired a yacht for a harbour cruise and we'd gone to outdoor concerts in the Botantic Gardens and we'd been to the theatre.
Then I won a raffle. I'd forgotten even buying the ticket. Heero and I had been visiting the Sanque City Planetarium one Saturday afternoon, to see a new telescope they'd installed, and there'd been some fund-raising stuff going on. I'd bought a ticket and stuffed into my wallet and forgot about it 'til I got the phone call saying I'd won.
It was perfect. There was to be a blue moon on August the 31st, and I'd scooped the grand prize. A 'Romantic Blue Moon' package. There would be a limo to collect me and my chosen companion and a long drive along the lakeshore to the planetarium.
Once there, we'd have a special six course gourmet meal with wine and a violinist to serenade us as we ate, and then we'd have an hour to watch the moon rise from a viewing deck, just the two of us.
It would be so damn perfect.
A bit cheesy, yeah, but that was sort of the point. If you're going to do romantic, why not go totally Over the Top, just for once? I knew Heero well enough to know that he was a closet romantic, although he'd have killed anyone for saying so. He'd lap the whole thing up.
I spent a whole damn day figuring out how best to ask him. Part of me wanted him to know it wasn't just another Heero-and-Duo friend evening, but an actual date. That maybe there'd be a kiss at the end of the evening.
Worst thing that could happen would be that he'd say no, right? OK, once I'd have worried about Mr. Steel-Bender breaking every bone in my body for the presumption, but not any more.
Realistically, it was probable that he would say no. After six years, if he'd had even the faintest flicker of interest in me, he'd surely have said something. Whatever. I'd laugh it off, try to make a joke of it. He'd maybe come up with some patently false excuse, or apologise for not being into me that way, or mutter something, mortified, and we'd never speak of it again.
We had a good, solid friendship, based on all the things a good friendship needs. Trust and liking and history and shared interests and a willingness to let the other one talk us into trying new stuff.
In the end, I made it all sound like a bit of a joke – me asking him on this impossibly corny date - so if he wasn't interested, he could just play along without it getting too heavy.
It wouldn't matter if he said no.
He hadn't said no. He'd looked at me – that awful, blank stare I hadn't seen in fucking years and said that one word.
God damn, but it still hurt, two days later. I had a predictably crappy weekend. Stayed at home, talked to Quat a few times, did laundry. I was actually happy when Monday morning rolled around and it was time to go to work. To have things to do, people to see.
'Hey, Jules.' I was grinning as I pushed open the door of my office, greeting my assistant. Duo Maxwell, all geared up for another week of fun in IT. 'Good weekend?'
'Too short, as per usual.' She smiled back, looking up from her computer. 'You?'
'OK.' Had my heart broken into smithereens. Eviscerated. 'Yeah, good. Did some work on the new bike. Played that new game you lent me. I got to the seventh level.'
The highlight of my weekend. I was that sad, seriously.
'Loser.' She made a face at me. 'Sam got to level twelve.'
'Good for him.' Her son was ten. 'Hey, is he still planning to be an astronaut?'
'So far as I know.'
'Cool.' I pulled out the Blue Moon tickets and placed them on her desk. 'He might like these. It's all a bit cheesy but it'll save you having to cook dinner, and he'll get to look through all the telescopes and stuff.'
There. My good deed for the day. Jules is a single mom and doesn't have a lot extra for treats. Sam's a great kid. They both deserved a bit of fun. I'd thought – briefly – about asking someone else to come with me. I could've got a date, tried to convince myself to have fun. It wouldn't have worked, though, and it wouldn't have been fair to ask some guy along as second-best, and then spend the whole night thinking about the person I'd really wanted to be with.
'But Duo…don't you want them?'
I shrugged, flipping my braid. 'Not really my thing. You know, if you're from the colonies, you get kind of sick of seeing the moon all the time. Of course, if you don't want to go, I'm sure I can find someone else…'
I made to snatch the tickets back and Jules grabbed them.
'We'd love to go, Duo. Thanks a million.
Work for the rest of the day was – work. Something else to think about other than Hereo Yuy, except that every damn thing had some Heero connection or other. I automatically looked up as footsteps passed my door at one o'clock, before remembering that he was away, and wouldn't have wanted to eat lunch with me even if he'd been here.
He'd given me my mouse pad - it was dark grey and decorated with flying bats. There was a book he'd lent me which I'd forgotten to take home stashed in my desk drawer, along with a bar of his favourite chocolate, just in case he dropped by for a snack and a chat. I ate that, figuring that heart-breaking bastards didn't deserve chocolate goodies. I nearly chipped a tooth on a pecan nut.
I was cc'd on some emails he'd sent out on Friday afternoon. Friday afternoon, two hours or so before it had all gone to hell and back. There was a message on my answer-phone, from the previous week. Just checking that I was still on for a few games of pool after work.
It had been a good night, that. We'd gone for beer and burritos after and shared a cab home. Until the driver dropped him at his building, I'd been able to indulge in this silly little fantasy that we were going home together, to a place we shared.
The rest of the week didn't get much better. Didn't get much worse, either. A few emails from Heero. I deleted them, unread. Didn't want to know. At some point, yeah, I'd have to face him, but not yet. He was in Prague, at some anti-terrorist conference. I kind of hoped he'd stay there, but it was only for a week.
The 31st – Blue Moon Night – was a Friday. I'd lied to Jules about seeing the moon from the colonies. It's beautiful from Earth; not so much from close up. I wanted to see it blue, to see if it really would change colour. I left work early; I'd stayed late every other night so didn't actually have anything to do, and drove to a little cove a couple of hours from the city.
It was one of my favourite spots, mainly because no one else ever really came there. To get to the beach, you had to clamour down a steep little track, and then scramble over rocks.
As I'd pretty much expected, it was deserted on Blue Moon night. Just me and the waves crashing. Not even a moon of any colour; too many clouds crowding a sludge-grey sky.
I had a blanket and a six pack of beer. I could sleep in the car if I ended up drinking them all. Yeah, part of me was arguing that it wasn't the brightest idea to get sloshed by myself, beside the sea, but – whatever.
This was the night I'd planned for Heero and me. If I had to celebrate it by myself, at least I'd have Mr. Miller for company. I didn't even have the moon.
I'd downed the first can, wrapped up in my blanket and toasting the waves, when I heard someone coming over the rocks. Well, damn. All I needed. Some stupid courting couple looking for a secluded place to make out, probably. Tough, Duo. Can't even get drunk in private.
It wasn't a courting couple.
'What the hell are you doing here?'
He slipped a little on a seaweed-covered rock as he came over. Good. He could fall into a rock-pool and drown. Be eaten by barnacles. Stolen away by some squid man with a sharp trident. Whatever.
'You asked me to come and watch the moon with you.' He said it as calm as you like, as if we'd already arranged all this, between us.
'What?' Of all the million gazillion questions jumping around in my head, the one that made it out was 'How did you know where I'd be?'
'It's where you always come. Can I sit down?'
'No.' I wrapped the blanket more securely around myself; no way was I going to share with him. He could damn well freeze; well, that was unlikely on a fairly warm August evening, but maybe he'd catch a bit of a chill.
He sat anyway, and then placed something at his feet. A picnic basket. One of those fancy wicker hampers that you just know has rustic-style gingham napkins inside.
'What the fuck are you doing, Yuy?'
'You told me, once, about your ideal date. Has it changed?'
'Uh, no. Shit. You remembered?'
It had been, oh, a year ago. I'd gone out with this guy called Murray. He'd taken me to the sort of upmarket place where the table napkins have been stitched by kittens, and everything on the menu came stuffed with caviar-flavoured truffles and smothered with coulis or jus or some such. One of the worst dates ever. He obviously thought that since he was shelling out a ridiculous amount of cash for dinner, he just had to sit back and let me charm him into bed when we'd finished eating.
I'd told Heero about it the next night, playing it for laughs, making it funnier than it really was; the two of us on my couch, watching some stupid movie about giant cockroaches taking over the planet. One of them had been a dead ringer for Une.
I'd told him that my ideal date would be for someone to pack up my favourite foods and take me somewhere by the sea.
'No. Heero,' I said suddenly, vehemently. 'I asked you on a date a week ago. You made it pretty damn clear you weren't interested. So, this, whatever this is, I don't want any part of it.'
'I thought you weren't interested in me. I thought you only wanted me in your life as a friend. I thought you were joking, that it was all a wind-up. I was angry because I wanted it to be real. I wanted you to ask me out, to want to be with me. I don't know.'
I swallowed. 'I meant it. I was – kind of being jokey 'cause I thought if you didn't want to go, you could just laugh it off. I didn't want to ruin things between us.'
I had, though.
OK, Maxwell. Deep breath. 'You were a total asshole, you know? You seriously hurt me.'
I'd asked him out and he'd looked at me, clinical, analytical, and he'd said 'Why?'
It still hurt. There was fucking nothing he could say to make that go away.
Then he kissed me. I'd wondered, of course I had, what that might be like, and it was kind of how I'd imagined. I'd guessed at the need for control, for dominance. I hadn't remotely imagined that he'd be tentative at the start, or that after he'd damn well invaded me with his tongue, he'd pull back and brush the sweetest kiss imaginable to the corner of my mouth.
'I'm sorry.' His words came out in a rush. 'I never thought you'd be interested in me. Not like that. I thought you were just making a joke, and that hurt because I wanted it to be real.'
'Not a joke,' I whispered. 'It was serious.'
'I know,' he whispered back. Sometime, somehow, during the kiss, I'd ended up on his lap, those arms locked around my body, holding me firmly in place. Not like I'd planned to go anywhere.
'I know. I finally worked it out. I saw the look in your eyes, once I'd said that, and then you just took off and you wouldn't answer my emails and then I thought maybe you needed some time to calm down, and I think Une's going to kill me because I just walked out of the conference.'
'I wouldn't let her hurt you,' I murmured, pressing my lips to his. God, I'd always wanted to do that. Always wanted to do a lot of stuff. 'There were hundreds of people there, right? No one even noticed you'd left, probably.'
He gave me a faint little grin. 'I was giving a presentation, Duo. It was one of the main events of the whole conference.'
'Seriously? Yeah, OK, she's gonna go ballistic.' I reached up and slid my hand through all that messy hair; something I'd spent years wanting to do, just to see how it felt. 'Still won't let her hurt you. I promise.'
'I may need to hold you to that.' He shook his head. 'I hadn't meant…I was going to call you and then I thought it would be better to wait for a while, for us both to have some space and then I just…couldn't. I needed to talk to you.'
'Talk, then,' I invited gently.
He didn't say anything for the longest while, just held me and tucked his face into my shoulder while I wrapped my arms around him, and that was OK. I could hear him breathe, hear his heart beating. I could wait.
'I never really thought you would be interested in me, like that,' he said finally. 'I used to imagine, sometimes, that you were, when it was just the two of us together, that we had something special, but then I'd watch you with other people, those men you dated, and you seemed just as happy with them.'
'I wasn't,' I said firmly. 'I was just – putting on a show. It would have been too obvious otherwise. Besides, you dated a fair bit yourself. I met some of them. And it was pretty obvious that the sort of guys you were into were nothing like me.'
'That was the point.'
'Oh.' I let that sink in for a minute and then gave him a poke in the ribs. 'You mean I'm not some classy, sophisticated type? Was there meant to be an insult in there?'
'I meant, they weren't you.'
'Right.' OK, that was kinda cute. 'So, what? I spoiled you for anyone else?'
I was joking, sort of, but he nodded.
'Absolutely.' He dragged in a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds. 'It's been six years, Duo. We spend pretty much all our free time together; everyone at work thinks we're a couple; I think our friends do, half the time. I thought if you'd had the least interest in me, something would have happened by now.'
I gave him another, harder, poke. 'You could have just said something, you jerk.'
'Stop hitting me, Maxwell. I didn't want to ruin what we had. It was too – not perfect, but better than never getting to be with you.'
'Baka.' I said it adoringly, fingers threading through his hair. God, I'd never get tired of that.
'Hn. You weren't much better, were you?' He had one hand running up and down my braid, light touches mixed with his fingers occasionally tightening, checking I was real. 'I've wanted to do this since the first time I saw you.'
'Yeah? That's what distracted you from shooting Relena?'
'It distracted me from shooting you, anyway.' He leaned in for a kiss. 'I've wanted to do this as well.'
'Me too,' I murmured. 'Anything else you've always wanted?'
'Everything,' he said, heartfelt. 'Duo, this is – this isn't just – it's not just about sex for me.'
'Well, that's good to hear.' I grinned at him. 'Mind you, I didn't think you were planning to steal my virtue and then run out on me.'
'Actually, I do want to steal your virtue. But I want everything else as well. A relationship.' He stumbled, just a little, over the word. I want us to be a real couple. I want us to have a pet, and go to the supermarket together and, I don't know, argue about whose turn it is to empty the dishwasher and mow the lawn.'
'Oh, there's a lawn now, is there?' We both lived in apartments. 'Will there be a house to go along with that?'
'I believe that's customary.'
'I guess.' It was an entire future he was talking about, a future for the two of us. I couldn't stop smiling. 'So, you're saying you want us to date then?'
'You really are the most oblivious man in the entire universe, aren't you?' he teased.
'I don't know. I have some pretty stiff competition,' I retorted. Stiff was...kind of the appropriate word, actually. Somehow during that discussion, I'd ended up more or less on his lap, and certain parts of him were definitely sitting up and taking notice; certain parts of me too.
Heero just snorted at that. 'Yes, Duo, I do want to date you,' he said, spelling it out slowly and carefully. 'Is that quite clear enough for you? I want to take you out, and then take you home, and then just…take you.' He followed that up by tugging me against his chest; I hadn't actually thought we could get any closer. I'd been wrong.
'Oh, fuck,' I gasped. His fingers had slid down my sides, stopping to rest lightly on my waist and then down a bit further south, eliciting more gasps from me, and then an embarrassingly needy bout of whining.
He gave me a revoltingly smug little smirk and a squeeze that wasn't revolting in any way whatsoever. 'Ah. Not quite so oblivious then.'
'Shit, Heero.' I managed when I could actually draw two breaths in a row. 'You ever hear of this thing called foreplay?'
'I've waited six damn years,' he muttered, and then his mouth was on mine again, and his hands were somewhere they'd only been in my deepest, darkest fantasies, and doing things I'd never dared let myself imagine, and mine were running up and down his naked chest, a very long-held fantasy, and somehow we'd both managed to simultaneously lose our shirts, or maybe they'd just spontaneously combusted, or melted or something.
Six years, like he'd said. At a seriously generous estimate, I maybe lasted six seconds before I came. He wasn't much better; it just took the first brush of my mouth against his nipple, and a bit of squirming against him.
'Wow.' I was panting into his neck, nuzzling his skin and pressing the odd bite so there was no way he could forget who he belonged to now. 'Heero, that was….wow.'
'So eloquent,' he mocked gently. 'That's one thing I've always loved about you; your amazing way with words.'
'Yeah, well, you kinda liquidised my brain. Or electrified it. Something like that.' I was babbling; he'd said the love-word. OK, it had sort of been implied before, but he'd actually freaking said it. 'You love me?' Pathetic, yes, on a truly unheard of level of pathetic-ness, but he had fried my brain, like I'd said.
'God, you're oblivious. And yes.'
'Right then. I'm all sticky,' I grouched, shifting a little on his knee. 'Ick. My boxers actually feel….squelchy.' I couldn't believe he didn't feel the same, but hell, the guy sets his own broken bones as a hobby. Of course he wasn't going to complain about damp shorts.
'Only you.' He rolled his eyes at me. 'I make an incredibly romantic declaration and you talk about the state of your underwear instead of reciprocating.'
I did an eye-roll right back. 'Well, it's your fault. And, for the record, it wasn't that romantic.' I didn't bother with the reciprocation. He was a smart guy, mostly. If he hadn't worked out just how I felt about him, then he really was too oblivious to live.
He tipped me off his knee. 'Take your clothes off then.'
'Oh, I get it. This is all a cunning plan to get me naked, is it?'
Not a bad plan, actually. Assuming it went both ways. It wasn't like I hadn't seen him minus a shirt plenty of times before, and enjoyed the hell out of the view, but this time was different. This time I could reach out and touch him, circle one nipple with finger and thumb and press a little, just to hear what sort of sound he'd make. I let my other hand drift down his chest, pausing over the loud beat of his heart. He loved me.
'I'm not getting naked by myself, Yuy. Just so you know.'
'I know.' God, the way he was looking at me, that devouring, desperate way he looked at new computer gadgets sometimes, or his favourite sushi selection when he was starving.
'Good.' I let him draw me closer, one hand on the belt of my jeans, sliding the buckle free and then his hands settled on my waist, fingers splayed, very possessive.
I reached one arm around, cupping the back of his neck, and pulling him in for a kiss. Oh, yeah, I could do the whole possessive, commanding thing too, and he didn't seem to have any problems with it. The opposite in fact; he freaking melted against me, moulding his body to mine.
By the time we'd finally stopped looking at each other, learning each other, the clouds had moved. The moon wasn't all that blue when it did come up, actually, but that didn't matter. I was too busy looking into Heero's eyes to notice, really.