Title: Love's Not a Competition (But I'm Winning)
Author: danse
Pairing: implied 1=2

***

"Oh my god, I think her voice is going to shatter my contacts," Relena said morosely, her hands balled into fists in her lap.

"Your contacts aren't made of glass," Heero said, not entirely paying attention to her.

"Exactly," she hissed. "She is that bad at singing."

Heero shrugged with his eyebrows as the girl on stage kept tearing her way through a song from Phantom of the Opera. Honestly, awful as she was, he was still able to tune her out, because his brain was barely even in the room.

"What are you staring at, space cadet?" Relena asked as the girl wound down her song. She leaned forward and looked down the rows of seats, to the front of the auditorium, and then scoffed. "Duo Maxwell's here? Did someone tell him we were auditioning for Jesus Christ Superstar?"

Heero settled back in his seat. "Grease isn't all that avant-garde, either."

"Oh, don't I know it. Bunch of cultureless plebes." She crossed her arms. After a pause, she said, "I hope I get Sandy."

He was startled suddenly by a poke in the arm and realized that he'd missed the next thing she said.

"Sorry?"

Relena rolled her eyes. "I said, what are you going for?"

Heero shrugged. "I'm starting to think about doing the sound or something."

"I thought you were going to be Danny!"

"Yeah, maybe. Do you listen to the Beatles?" he asked, staring still at the band logo on the back of Duo's t-shirt.

"What? The Beatles?" She snorted. "No, I only listen to classical music." She looked over at Duo again.

"Unsurprising that someone so sheeplike would wear a shirt like that, though. I think that kiosk in the mall sells them." She picked at a fingernail. "Christ, this school is just drowning in its own unoriginality."

"Don't hold that against him; he might be a nice guy."

"I doubt it," she said, wincing as another girl got up on stage to audition for the Sandy role and started butchering a showtune. "He's on the basketball team."

***

Heero may not have been too familiar with the Beatles' oeuvre, but what he lacked in familiarity he made up for with enthusiasm, and when he saw Duo ahead of him in the hallway the next day, he picked up his pace, confident in his knowledge.

"How do you feel about Yellow Submarine?" he asked when he caught up to Duo.

The other boy shot him a quizzical look. "Sorry?"

Heero felt his cheeks get warm. "The Beatles' eleventh studio album. Soundtrack to the movie of the same name. Widely regarded as their worst, or at any rate their least good album."

"Oh yeah," Duo said thoughtfully, still walking. After a moment, he shrugged. "I dunno, I don't really listen to a lot of their stuff. I have a couple songs on my iPod."

"Really?" Heero said. "You had a Beatles shirt on yesterday."

Duo grinned. "My dad bought that for me. It looks cool, I guess. I'm more into Metallica and AC/DC. And jazz," he said, stopping in front of his locker and opening it.

Heero blinked.

"You like jazz?"

"Yeah. Thelonious Monk is awesome."

Warmth erupted in the pit of Heero's stomach. "I have a bunch of his albums. On vinyl."

Duo turned around and grinned at him. "Cool."

***

"Where've you been?" Heero's dad asked when he walked in the front door of their apartment. He was in the kitchen, apparently making dinner. Heero sniffed the air: chicken pot pie, probably from frozen.

"At school," he answered, dropping his schoolbag in the hallway before wandering into the kitchen and grabbing plates from the cupboard. "I'm a techie for this year's production and we had our first meeting tonight."

"And what masterpiece are you putting on this year?"

"Grease," he mumbled, ducking his head as he dug through the silverware drawer.

Odin barked out a laugh. "Sounds right up your alley, kid."

"Yeah, well, small towns, small cultures. I'm going to make the best of it."

"Is your friend Relena in the show?" Odin asked as he hauled the pie out of the oven. Heero was right; he recognized the look of the frozen brand his dad always bought. At least it was hot food.

"Yeah, she is," he said. "She got Frenchy. One of the girl gang members."

"Anyone else of note?"

"Um," Heero said, "there's this guy, Duo, he's in a few of my classes; he's on the sound crew. He's pretty cool. It'll be nice to have someone interesting to talk to while we're building sets and stuff for the next month."

Odin shot him a look as he sat down at the table that made the back of Heero's neck prickle; it was far too shrewd.

"Duo, huh? Is he good-looking?"

"Jesus Christ, Dad," Heero groaned, digging into his food to avoid making eye contact.

Odin just smirked at him.

***

Duo was a point guard and explained basketball to Heero in such a compelling way that he found himself flipping through sports networks on the TV and actually trying to make sense of the statistics and game analyses in the newspaper. He had hair that reached his waist and wore it in a braid or a ponytail every day; he refused to cut it. His love of Thelonious Monk was legitimate and he even found a single that Heero didn't own yet, picked up at an estate sale in his neighbourhood. He was a dab hand with a paintbrush and knew his way around a theatre; before long he and Heero were shamelessly manipulating the director into going along with their ideas for the look of the show. He talked with enthusiasm about everything that interested him and often spoke to Heero like he was the only other person in the room. He was also the son of a pastor, went to church every Sunday, and was involved with his parish's youth group, but Heero couldn't help it.

He was falling, hard.

"That movie... was amazing," Duo said softly from where he leaned against Heero's bed. The credits of All Quiet on the Western Front began and Heero reached for the remote to shut it off.

"I told you you'd like it," he said, stretching his legs out on the rug as he leaned back and pillowed his head on his duvet. "Black and white movies can be good, too."

Duo shot him a look. "I never said they couldn't."

Heero's palms went damp and he resisted the urge to stare at Duo's eyelashes. "But you've never watched any; you said so. Why haven't you?"

Duo shrugged one shoulder and looked back at the dark TV. "Sheltered life," he said. "I wasn't even allowed to watch TV until my teens. Apparently I didn't miss much."

"But you listen to Metallica and other music that parents don't approve of," Heero said, hearing the confusion in his own voice.

Duo's smirk from the side was just as captivating as from the front. "My little rebellion," he said. "I don't listen to metal where my folks can hear it."

Heero had gone through an unfortunate stage with John Mayer where he'd employed similar tactics, to keep Odin from overhearing and teasing him about it, but he felt that maybe it didn't parallel in a way that Duo would appreciate. Also, it was maybe too gay, too soon.

"I wish I could trade lives with you, Heero," Duo said, sounding wistful.

Heero snorted. "I doubt you'd say that if you knew my life better."

"Well then, are you going to share?"

Heero crossed his arms behind his head and leaned back on them. "I was adopted. My dad isn't really my dad."

"He acts like it."

"Yeah, but there was the six years of existence before he adopted me to deal with, first."

Duo was silent, maybe thinking over this.

"Fair point," he said finally, "but at least your dad makes up for the first six years by being awesome."

"I thought having two parents from birth was supposed to be preferable," Heero said.

Duo shrugged lightly. "Truthfully, my parents don't act like they give a shit about me unless I'm doing something I shouldn't." He shot Heero a look. "So I think I win the World's Worst Home Life award."

Heero conceded the title with a tiny smile, but the atmosphere was abruptly far too heavy, so he rushed to change it.

"Hey, I told you I was going to begin your education in Louis Armstrong," he said, getting to his feet and going to the record player on his dresser.

Duo moved behind him and when Heero turned around with the sleeve from Ella and Louis in hand, he was sitting cross-legged on the bed. "Well, let's hear it then," Duo said.

Heero felt a smile tug his lips as he set the needle down and the scratch of white noise led into the opening notes of "Can't We Be Friends?". He managed to hesitate only a little before going to take his own spot on the bed, leaning against the headboard. He felt silly for feeling awkward about it; it was his bed, after all. But after a moment he was lost in the music and the sweet sound of Ella Fitzgerald's voice, and his nervousness fled. Duo shifted next to him to stretch out with his head on one of the pillows, and pleasingly, it felt just right. Heero shut his eyes and smiled, settling in to enjoy the music and the quiet company.

As the end of the record faded back into white noise, Heero opened his eyes and turned to look at Duo. He was about to ask how he'd liked the record but the words died on his lips when he saw that Duo was fast asleep. On his bed. He looked peaceful, and Heero could only stare at the way his eyelashes looked against his cheeks.

Several minutes must have passed while the record player continued to play white noise on its way to the middle of the disc, and Heero sat motionless, captivated by the sight of his crush, fast asleep. On his bed. His palms felt damp and his heart thudded a little in his chest as he fought an internal battle. Duo's lips were full and pink and so tempting. Would it be worth it to have him wake up and punch Heero in the face for taking advantage of him? Was he into the whole burning of gays thing, as a churchgoing Christian of some order or other?

Heero looked his fill some more and realized suddenly that the clamour in his head had shut up. His eyes locked on Duo's lips, and with a sigh he couldn't suppress, he leaned in.

Duo's lips were just as soft as they looked, and a little wet, and that was all he could discover before Duo woke up, with a sharp intake of breath.

He pulled back, bracing himself on both arms over his friend and trying not to have a heart attack on the spot as he waited for his rejection.

Duo stared, and didn't seem to be breathing. His hands made an abortive movement upward and Heero did his best not to flinch (possibly unsuccessfully). The play of emotion over Duo's face in that moment was fascinating-there was shock, and anger, and confusion, and frustration-and then he did an amazing thing: he shut his eyes, his face going slack, and sighed, and then surged upwards, into Heero's space.

Kissing Duo was much more enjoyable when he was kissing back.

At first it was only a hard press of lips, Duo making slight movements that Heero did his best to emulate, but then Heero felt a lick at his lips and opened them reflexively, smiling a little despite himself as Duo's tongue slid into his mouth and Duo pressed up more, taking hold of his shoulders and flipping them so that Heero was on the bottom. It was the most amazing thing he'd ever felt, and with this show of initiative from Duo, he found the confidence to let his hands begin to wander.

Duo's back was narrow and sinewy with the muscles of an active lifestyle, in sharp contrast to Heero's scrawny, unexercised frame. His hair, even in the braid, was just as soft to touch as it had always looked like it should be, and he had to talk himself out of letting it loose, which Duo might not appreciate just then.

The feeling of mouth on mouth was the best part, though, and he relished the slick slide of his tongue against Duo's, thrilling in the soft moans and sighs that came from both of them as he explored the contours of Duo's mouth. He arched up a little and a leg insinuated itself between his thighs, more hard muscle that made him feel warm, sending out little shocks of pleasure at all their points of contact. Duo's leg nudged forward and brushed against Heero's burgeoning erection, forcing Heero to tear his mouth away with a gasp or risk biting down on Duo's tongue.

Duo froze.

Heero opened his eyes, relaxing away from the embrace as he looked up. Duo's bangs hung messily in his face and he looked down at Heero, who was panting and likely a bit flushed, with eyes that widened slowly in horror.

His heart stopped. "Duo?"

'I...." Duo clambered off of him all of a sudden, turning away as he slid off the bed, but not quite quickly enough to hide his own erection in his jeans. He pushed his fingers through his hair, leaving his bangs sticking up in places. "I gotta go."

And he was gone without another word, leaving Heero lying half-debauched on top of his wrinkled duvet. The record player whined in the corner as the needle lifted off the track and clicked back to its starting point.

***

"He just left?" Relena said incredulously.

Heero squirmed, staring fixedly at the algebra textbook in his locker.

"He had a little freakout, I guess."

"Have you talked to him at all since then?"

"No. But," he said, whirling to face her, suddenly anxious to defend Duo even though he suspected maybe he shouldn't, "it's only been a few days! That's normal, right?"

She just shrugged her eyebrows, looking unimpressed, and then looked sharply over his shoulder. "Well, look who's coming this way."

"Oh, fuck. Act natural!" he hissed, lunging for his textbook and ramming it into his bag. He didn't even need it, either, he realized wildly.

Duo, surrounded by a phalanx of junior varsity basketball players, strode past as if Heero were invisible, laughing loudly at something that must have been outrageously funny. As the sound of laughter faded around the corner, Relena turned back to him with the look of someone about to try and be comforting, but just then Heero's cell phone trilled.

"Ha!" he said, flipping it open. "A text!" He showed her the phone. "He texted me!"

"'Coffee after school'," she read off the screen. "Heero, are you sure he's not some crazy church-monkey and that this isn't going to end badly for you? I don't want to see you crucified on a fence."

Heero winced. "Too soon."

She shrugged, unrepentant.

"Anyway, it's fine," he said, putting the algebra book back in his locker and slamming the door with satisfaction. "Duo's a cool guy and he's clearly into me; it'll all be fine."

Relena looked unconvinced. "Okay, then. Um, can you get together this week to go over my lines?"

"Yeah, okay. How's Thursday after rehearsal sound?"

She beamed. "I'll make muffins."

***

There was one coffee shop worth noting within walking distance of their school, and Duo was leaning against its red-brick side as Heero approached.

"Hey," he said, his mouth twisting into a grin when Heero stopped in front of him.

"Hey," Heero answered, cursing the shy note as he gripped the strap of his bag, hard. "Shall we?" He nodded at the door.

"Hang on," Duo said, putting a hand on his arm. Heero looked at him questioningly and the hand lingered for a moment before dropping back to Duo's side.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Heero, I'm sorry."

The sinking feeling made him want to throw up. "For what?" His voice croaked a little.

"For... I... Just... We can't."

"Why can't we?"

"It's wrong."

"Says who?"

"Says God."

"I can't hear God," Heero answered. "Can you hear God? Did you chat?" His voice rose a little and he tried to hold it back.

"Look--" But Heero cut him off with a raised hand, feeling sick.

"Duo, do you like me?"

"You're awesome."

"But do you like me?"

He said nothing, looking at Heero helplessly.

"The other day... that wasn't bad, was it?"

"No. It wasn't bad."

"We could do it again sometime."

Duo hesitated, and his sick feeling went away at the sight of it. It was a small victory.

"Let's get that coffee."

And all the fight visibly went out of his friend. "Yeah, okay." They moved to the door of the cafˇ and as the bell overhead jingled out their entry, Duo said, "Oh, hey, I had an idea about the lighting."

Heero smiled.

***

FIN