Title: Sanctuary
Author: ralphiere
Pairing: 1x2x1
Rating: R
Warnings: Duo's POV, angst, language, sexual themes, drug and alcohol abuse
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own them in all their non-minor goodness!
Notes: This iead sort of came to me from a drabble meme I did a bit ago, also filled with angst. It appears my brain on stress = angst... sorry!! BUT it's safe to read, no worries!!

Thanks to bleedtoblue for the beta - I'd be lost without you!!!

++++

The place was a dive, but ... discrete. No one he knew would ever come to a place like this and he needed to be an anonymous face in the masses. He needed it badly. It was getting harder and harder to hide since the wars ended. Harder to hide who he'd been during the war. Harder to hide what he'd been before, decay still buried from his days on the streets. Harder to hide what lurked under his skin fighting to get out. It was getting harder to hide from his friends, something that really shouldn't come as a surprise, but it was worse than that, he was starting to try to hide from himself. A dark part of Duo was starting to panic.

For the last year he'd tried to play by the rules. He might have run after the wars ended, but he'd come back eventually and that should count for something. He'd found a job as head of security for a high profile government agency. He'd found an apartment that didn't have peeling paint and holes punched in the walls. He'd found friends in his fellow pilots, suddenly part of a social circle that didn't involve pick pockets, drug dealers and scavengers. Fuck, he even had plants! Compared to his past he was living the high life, but if this were true why did he feel so low?

"Hey Stick, another round?" Duo had to almost scream to be heard over the band playing on the stage. The heavy bass was vibrating in his chest and the guttural vocals right along with it. Most of the patrons were clad in leather and Duo's long hair fit right in.

The bartender was tall and freakishly thin, filling Duo's empty glass with Jim Beam. He cocked his head towards the stage and grinned. "I hear that Thor wants a piece of you."

Duo laughed, the sound getting lost in the din. "Please Stick, tell me that's not the man's name."

The grin widened. "Nah, but it's fitting don't you think?"

Duo turned and looked at the stage. The singer, whose voice was currently pounding into him, was at least six foot four and built like a brick wall. His hair was dark blond and past his shoulders when he wasn't thrashing it around his head. Duo couldn't see his eyes from where he sat but he guessed they were ice blue. The man couldn't get any more Viking if he tried.

"Thor seems fitting," Duo agreed, letting his gaze take in the broad shoulders and tight jeans. "They sure grow 'em big in the Netherlands."

Stick smirked. "Think you can take him?"

Duo downed his drink and slammed the empty glass on the bar with a smirk of his own. "The real question is, can he take me?"

Stick refilled Duo's glass without asking, and Duo continued to drink. He could feel something deep down, tight, painful and aching, start to loosen up. The alcohol flowed through him and he plucked a pack of smokes out of the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He lit up and pulled in a deep lungful. His body was craving something much harder than nicotine, but he was still in control. He wasn't ready to jeopardize his job for such thrills, not yet anyway, he wasn't going to let it reach that point. Ignoring the deep itch that he refused to scratch, he smoked and watched Thor moving on the stage with anticipation.

Once the set was over, it didn't take long before Duo felt the eyes on him. He focused straight ahead, seeing the hulking man coming up behind him reflected in the bottles lined up along the bar. He grinned, he couldn't help it, this was way too easy. A wall of black filled his peripheral vision while the smell of leather and raw masculinity called to him.

"I'll have what he's having."

The voice caught him off guard and he turned to look. After hearing him sing Duo expected his voice to be rough and ragged, but it was rich, deep, and thickly accented. Duo had to look up to see the man's face and was greeted with ice blue eyes; he'd pegged that one.

"And how would you know what I'm having?" Duo asked, glancing at the empty glass. "Could be water."

"I've been watching you," the singer said with a hungry look.

Duo laughed, leaning back against the back of the stool, sprawling lazily. "Like what you see?"

He got a leer in response. Dickering was over.

How could Duo ever show this side of himself to the others? Friends from whom he'd earned respect and loyalty, who thought him an upstanding citizen ... comrade in arms? Could they ever look him in the eye again if they'd seen him bent over the front of a car getting fucked hard by a Viking in black leather? Could they ever understand how fucking hard it was to drive through certain parts of the city without his stomach clenching and the itchy buzz in the back of his head telling him to score some shit and find a place to hang out? Would they reprimand him for chain-smoking in a bar, not understanding that booze and nicotine were much better for him than the things he wanted to do, than he craved to do but denied himself? He valued their friendship way too much to ever find out.

By the time he made it home he was aching, bruised and sated. He'd shower, sleep and make it in time to meet the others for lunch. He was in control and could orchestrate both sides of his life. He didn't have a choice, did he?

~*~

"... don't you think?"

Duo raised his eyes from his coffee, realizing he'd missed what Quatre had said. "Hmm?"

"Are you okay?" Quatre asked, his expression suddenly serious. "I've been talking to you for the last five minutes and you haven't heard a word of it."

"I'm sorry, Quat. I've just been busy with work ... I guess I'm just tired." Duo shrugged and offered his most sincere apologetic smile. He'd forgotten he was supposed to meet Quatre for breakfast and had been woken up by the phone and a 'where are you?' two hours after he'd hit the sheets.

Quatre continued his scrutiny, his mouth forming a small frown. "You sure that's all it is? You really look like shit."

"Gee, thanks buddy," Duo said, rolling his eyes. "I'm fine, Q, no worries." He turned up the smile and was saved by the waitress coming to take their order. He could get through this. Make small talk, grin and bear it. No problem. There had been a time when socializing like this hadn't been so much work, hadn't there?

It had been two week since Thor and the exhibitionist fuck on the hood of a car. There had been an audience and Duo hadn't cared. Since then he'd forgotten his self-imposed rule of only going out on weekends and had found himself sitting at the seedy bar more and more frequently. It was getting harder to hide his smoking and the booze, the infused smells seeping through his pores. He made sure to refuse Quatre's offer to pick him up, not wanting to be in the car with him, and insisted they be seated outside for the sunshine. He'd started taking the stairs at work for fear of being trapped in the small elevator with a coworker and having them notice the smell of his degradation. It was a vicious cycle, only making him crave it more.

The night before he'd found himself in the back room with Stick, watching the bartender snort lines of coke. He'd been able to refuse and just watch. It had been harder than he'd realized. He'd been able to stare at the ceiling and watch the smoke curl from his nostrils instead of sniffing the white powder up. He'd pushed the itch aside when Stick knelt between his legs and sucked him off. Not exactly what he'd wanted but it took the edge off.

Duo could feel himself starting to fall. Part of him shuddered in fear, but that dark part of him anticipated it eagerly. It was getting hard to care.

He wasn't really surprised when Heero called that afternoon, remembering Quatre's frown. He'd been sleeping but Heero hadn't commented. Their conversations were always a bit ... odd. Duo didn't communicate with Heero like he did with the others and felt pretty sure that it went both ways. There was something about Heero that made his secret life ... less taboo? Maybe it was the understanding he frequently saw in his friend's eyes when the others missed his point. Maybe it was the fact that Heero was more of an outsider than he was, even though no one would admit to seeing it that way. They saw what they wanted.

"Are things getting intense?" Heero asked softly over the line.

Duo was in his bed, sitting with his back against the wall and the sheet pooled in his lap wishing for a cigarette. Heero would hear him if he dared light one and he didn't want to go there. It was still light outside, but the sun was setting, and he was already thinking about going back out. Fuck he was tired.

Intense. Duo remembered the conversation the two of them had one night, sitting in a cold, damp cellar waiting for OZ soldiers to leave so they could get the fuck out of town. The air between them had been filled with the metallic scent of their spilled blood and the cold had been seeping into their bones making them feel ancient at fifteen. Heero had been tense and almost distraught when Duo had asked if things were becoming intense. Duo had inwardly smiled at his friend's confusion and found he had to explain what he'd meant by intense. Heero had opened up for the first time that night, speaking of feelings of failure, of soul deep exhaustion, of just wanting it all to end. Since then the word had always been an offer for help, an offer for unconditional understanding.

"Yeah." Duo had heard himself saying before he realized he'd spoken. Shit. He reached out for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand and turned it in over his fingers, still resisting the urge to pull one out.

"Want to talk about it?" Heero's voice was soothing. Duo almost wished it was harsher, more accusing. He could resist it then, if he had something to rebel against he could hold out.

"I -" Duo croaked, closing his eyes. "Shit." Suddenly there was a cigarette between his lips and he opened his eyes enough to run the flame from his lighter over the tip. He didn't try to inhale quietly, there would be no point - Heero wasn't stupid and probably knew before Duo did that he was lighting up. He blew the smoke out, watching it float into a ray if dimming sunlight and slowly dissipate. "I'm okay, Heero, just tired."

Heero made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. Duo was relieved that he'd refrained from mentioning the smoking, suddenly wanting to give a reward for such a kindness.

"Things are intense, but I can handle it."

Duo closed his eyes and imagined Heero on the other end of the line. He pictured Heero staring out the window in his living room and looking down into the street, the sunlight golden against his skin. He thought about the darkness inside that he tried to hide, wondering if Heero did the same. He wished for Heero's strength, if only for a little while.

"But are you handling it?" Still soothing. Still far from an accusation.

Duo snorted out something that could be considered a laugh, speaking through a lungful of smoke and not caring. "Sometimes. God, Heero, am I the only one of us that walks the line of fucked up?"

It was Heero's turn to snort, and the sound made Duo feel slightly better. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"You haven't taken to wearing women's underwear, have you Yuy?" The smile on his face felt good, just talking to Heero could sometimes be enough.

"Never out in public," Heero answered seriously although Duo could hear the grin on his friend's face over the line. There was a pause and the grin was gone. "We all have ghosts we keep in our closets, Duo, each and every one of us. We tiptoe around them and let them sleep. You're the only one who makes sure they stay awake."

"It's not my fault my ghosts like to party," Duo said, his voice edged with sarcasm. He suddenly didn't want to be having this conversation, not liking where it was heading. "Listen, I don't know what Quatre said to you, but I don't need an intervention. I'm fine, just working a lot." The sun dipped below the horizon and the glowing tip of his cigarette seemed so much brighter.

Duo could almost hear the gears in Heero's head churning. "Quatre didn't ask me to call you. He just said you looked like you were working yourself to death. I figured it was more than work. Am I wrong?"

"I'm just tired, Heero." So very tired. Duo crushed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the nightstand and rubbed his eyes. "I appreciate you calling, I really do, but it's nothing I can't handle."

~*~

Duo focused on the hard brick beneath his hands, the smell of piss and garbage, the rough hand reaching around and jerking him. Focusing on the arousal of his body, his orgasm building he forgot what he really wanted. He let his forehead slam against the brick as he came, his jeans pooled around his ankles, and turned his focus on the pain in his head to distance himself from the hard pounding still happening to his body. Nothing I can't handle. In a heartbeat it was all too much and he shoved backwards, sending the nameless, faceless guy towards the dumpster.

"What the fuck!" The guy caught himself before he fell on his ass. His moment of confusion was over quickly and he was pissed.

Fastening his pants, Duo turned and looked at the man. "You've got a hand, use it." What was mirrored in Duo's face must've conveyed his point because nothing else was said. Nameless, faceless just tucked himself away and stalked off down the alley towards the street. Duo was confident he wouldn't be seeing the guy again.

He glanced at the spot where his semen had hit the wall, vaguely wondering how many others had graced that same spot, and lit a smoke. It was Friday night and he had nowhere to be in the morning. Somehow that alone made everything better as he tried in vain to see the stars in the small sliver of sky above the alleyway.

"Nowhere, nothing, nobody," Duo muttered to himself, blowing smoke towards the sky. Maybe he should just go. Go back to L2. Go back to the beginning. He'd gotten written up at work for losing his temper. There had been hints that Duo had a drinking problem, suggestions that maybe he seek help. He flicked his cigarette onto the ground and stared at the sky. The drinking had never been the problem. Now the acid ... the coke ... the heroin ... so easy to spiral down... "I don't want to fall."

"If you fall I'll catch you."

Duo spun around, caught off guard by the familiar voice. The silhouette in the doorway matched the voice and filled Duo with relief. He wasn't totally losing his mind. He tried to summon anger, knowing Heero had to have followed him, but couldn't quite muster it, it took too much energy. "How long have you been standing there?"

Heero stepped out of the doorway and closed the distance between them. Duo found it amusing when he saw Heero look him over for damage like he had during the war; unless he had x-ray vision he was never going to see it. "I got tired of waiting for you to come back in."

"Then you missed the show," Duo said cruelly. "Or are you not into that sort of thing?"

He inwardly cringed when a hint of pain flickered through Heero's eyes. This was why he went out on his own, he didn't want to lash out at his friends. He didn't want to hurt anyone else through his actions. "Heero, why are you here?"

Heero, it seemed, had no trouble summoning anger. "I'm here because you're a selfish prick! I'm here because you treat our friendship like shit!" Duo was slammed against the brick wall before he'd realized Heero was moving. "I'm here because I fucking care about you, asshole!"

Whoa, that was unexpected. "This has nothing to do with you!" Duo tried to push Heero away but Heero wouldn't budge. He tried to pull back enough to get in a punch, but his hands were pinned effortlessly above his head. Heero must've been beyond pissed because he never used his full strength.

"This has everything to do with me!" Heero spat, bringing his face in close. "You're out here fucking killing yourself, Duo, and I'm not supposed to care?"

"I'm not-"

"Shut up!" Heero's grip tightened on Duo's wrists and for a second Duo was afraid he'd finally pushed Heero over the edge. The fear must've shown on his face because Heero's grip immediately eased. "How could you think so little of me that you couldn't trust me with how you were feeling?"

Duo's eyes widened slightly as he searched Heero's face. Anger. Hurt. Fear. Concern. Guilt. "How could I tell you?" Duo whispered harshly. "How could I tell you that I really am everything that people have accused me of being? Street trash? Thief? Junkie? A fucking waste of space?"

The hold was released and Duo was immediately pulled into a strong embraced. Things were moving too fast, too strange. He didn't bother struggling. "No," Heero hissed angrily, his body warm and solid.

Duo wrapped his hands around Heero's waist and grabbed handfuls of Heero's shirt, holding on for dear life. "Yes. You know it's true! I'm going to fall, Heero, and it's going to be ugly."

"No," Heero repeated, pulling Duo closer. "You won't fall, I won't let you. Let me be there for you, you stubborn bastard."

"The others-"

"Don't need to know. No one needs to know." Heero pulled away and Duo looked into his eyes, searching for disgust and hatred but not finding it. "You were the one who showed me ... you were my first friend. Let me be there for you. Let me be your sanctuary."

"Sanctuary?" Duo snorted and shook his head. Heero wanted to save him, but he had no idea from what. "What do I need sanctuary from? Life?"

"Yourself." Maybe he had an idea.

~*~

Duo couldn't remember the last time he'd been to Heero's apartment. Frankly he couldn't remember when he'd been anywhere other than his apartment, work, and the bar. Sure there had been a smattering of restaurants and the occasional trip to the convenience store, but it had been a long time since his universe had spread beyond sleep, work, and debauchery. So fucking sad.

"There are clean towels in the bathroom closet," Heero said and waved a hand in the general direction. "There's a new toothbrush in the medicine cabinet you can use and I'll grab you something to change into."

"You really don't need to go through so much trouble." Duo was sitting on the floor next to the door unlacing his boots and wondering if this was a good idea after all. "I do have an apartment you know."

"Do you really want to go back to your place alone?" Heero asked, keeping his voice remarkably neutral after his emotional outburst in the alley. His expression softened when Duo shrugged. "Relax, take a shower, and let me be your friend."

"That's just your polite attempt at telling me I reek," Duo smirked, lined his boots up next to the door and stood up.

"That too." Heero returned the smirk before heading towards the bedroom.

Duo flipped the light on in the bathroom and had to force himself to keep it on. Harsh florescent lights and the huge mirror didn't do anything for his state of mind. Turning his back to the large mirror over the sink, he stripped out of his clothes and piled them on the floor. All teasing aside he could imagine that his clothes didn't smell overly fresh and would be happy to have something clean to put on after the shower. He turned on the water hoping the steam would fog the mirror quickly and save him having to look at his reflection, but the almost silent fan would have none of it. Fuck.

Glaring at his reflection he found the still packaged toothbrush in the medicine cabinet and pulled it out, inwardly grinning over the fact that Heero kept spare toothbrushes. He focused on unwrapping it and tried to keep his eyes averted, but he was nothing if not a masochist. He stared at his reflection as he stood brushing his teeth and tried to understand the man looking back at him. His body was still toned and looked remarkably well fed despite his almost liquid diet so in clothes he could pull off normal really well. The scars? What soldier didn't have them? He didn't mind the red, puckered flesh from the more horrific wounds. A gunshot here, a stab wound there. He didn't mind the almost silver lines of old scars, broken glass and chain linked fences.

Forcing his arm straight he looked at the purple marks on the inside of his arms, willing them to disappear. His scars were a sign of strength, but these were all weakness. He'd tried his hardest to avoid marking his body like that, doing poppers or injecting between his toes, but there had been times when he just hadn't cared. But now, standing in Heero's bathroom, his old track marks weren't the worst of it. The worst part were the most recent bruises on his skin from the nameless, faceless men he'd sought escape with.

"I am fucking pathetic."

Tearing his eyes from the mirror he resisted the urge to put his clothes back on and bolt from Heero's apartment. Instead he got in the shower, adjusted the temperature as hot as he could stand and scrubbed.

The water was ice cold by the time he'd turned the water off. If Heero thought he was avoiding coming out of the bathroom he'd be right, Duo wasn't in the mood to talk. He'd talk because Heero asked, but it was the last thing he wanted to do. After standing there shivering a full two minutes, he opened the shower curtain and grabbed a towel, noticing the clean clothes stacked neatly on the counter. He held the towel to his face and inhaled the clean scent of Heero's detergent and willed himself to relax. Heero's place was probably the one place in the world he was truly safe.

Heero's clothes were a bit big for him, but the drawstring on the sweats held them to his hips and the t-shirt hung low enough to hide how low the sweats drooped. He wished the shirt had long sleeves, but he figured after tonight Heero would know anyway, why prolong it. Grabbing Heero's brush off the sink, Duo took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door.

He was greeted with the smell of coffee. It was one in the morning and suddenly coffee seemed like a really good idea. He found Heero in the kitchen leaning against the counter and listening to some late night Blues on the radio. Heero motioned towards the two mugs of steaming coffee on the table.

"Hungry? I could make you a sandwich?"

"No thanks, coffee's fine." Duo took a seat and pulled a mug towards him. He set the brush in his lap and wrapped his hands around the mug realizing how cold they were - his hair could wait. "You don't have to go out of your way for me, you know."

"I'm not." Heero shrugged. "You're actually the first overnight guest I've had, it's a bit of a novelty."

Duo grinned, unable to let that one lie. "You're telling me you're not getting any action in that giant bed I helped you carry up three flights of stairs? In ninety degree heat I might add."

Heero ducked slightly and grabbed a mug off the table. "I haven't met anyone I liked enough to invite back."

"I must be special then," Duo teased.

"You've doubted that?" Heero retorted with a lopsided grin before taking a sip of his coffee. "You should comb your hair before the snarls dry in."

"I will. I just didn't want to be rude and comb my hair in your kitchen. I'm still scarred from that time Wufei ripped me a new one for braiding my hair in the kitchen while he was cooking."

Heero's lips quirked into a smile as he stood, mug in hand. "Then grab your coffee and we'll sit on the couch."

Following Heero into the living room he found pillows and blankets already on the couch waiting for him. "You're quite the host."

"I try." Heero rolled his eyes, taking a seat at the end.

They sat listening to the faint sounds of Blues from the kitchen as Duo brushed out his hair. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Heero leaning back against the arm of the couch watching him. Heero's expression was odd, almost thoughtful, but Duo didn't call him on it. Setting the brush aside he pulled his hair over one shoulder before leaning back, not wanting to get the back of the couch wet.

"Is this the part where I confess how fucked up I am and you try to give me advice and moral support?" Duo tried to sound upbeat, but he only managed to sound tired.

Heero offered a slight smile. "I just want to know what you think you've done that's so horrible that I'd turn against you?"

Duo laughed humorously. "Right about now I can't think of anything I've done that wouldn't make you guys turn against me."

"I'm not talking about the others, Duo, I'm talking about me. Issues you have with them you can take up with them." Heero ran his hand through his hair, looking uncomfortable. "I thought we could talk to each other."

"We can," Duo said defensively, crossing his arms over his chest. "There's just so much I'm not proud of."

"We all do things we're not proud of," Heero offered softly. "Nothing you tell me could possibly make me want to turn you away."

"Even if I've been having sex with farm animals?" Duo wiggled his eyebrows, earning an appropriate chuckle. Taking a deep breath he looked at his hands and tried to find where to start. He glanced at his jacket hanging next to the door, wishing for a cigarette. "Where do I begin?"

"At the beginning?" Heero suggested, getting up and crossing the room to Duo's jacket. Without asking he fished through the pockets and pulled out the pack of cigarettes and the lighter. "I don't want you smoking in the house, but there's a fire escape outside my bedroom window."

And that's how they ended up sitting on the fire escape in the middle of the night conjuring ghosts. Somehow it was easier for Duo to bare his soul on such neutral ground, of course it helped that Heero didn't care about his smoking. They were both wrapped in blankets from the couch, perched on the metal stairs and watching the traffic below.

"Remember when you told me that you were seven the first time you killed somebody?" Duo asked, leaning the side of his head against the metal railing of the fire escape and turning slightly to see Heero perched a couple of stairs below him. It had been another one of those intense moments where Duo had listened as Heero bared his soul, a conversation that laid the foundation so Duo could be at ease enough to talk now. The feel of the cigarette between his fingers was an added comfort.

"I do."

"I was seven the first time I smoked pot. Solo was fucking pissed at me, I've never seen him so angry with anyone, let alone me, but that was the beginning. No matter how angry Solo got it couldn't keep me away from that feeling. It was like suddenly the weight of the world was lifted off my shoulders. I've been trying ever since and I can never achieve the purity of that first high." He took one last drag off the smoke in his hand and pitched it to the street below. "I've read some articles about how easy it is for the brain to become addicted to nicotine. They say that one cigarette is enough to create cravings for life, even if you never have a second one. I'm wondering if the same would go for other things. It's like my brain was rewired the first time I got high and I just can't shake it."

Heero nudged Duo's knee with his shoulder in a comforting gesture, not saying anything. Duo tried to organize his thoughts and realized it wouldn't matter; his history was far from tidy and organized.

"When I was on L2 it was pretty much just weed and booze when I could get it. I guess I was more focused on staying alive back then to get overly ambitious with experimenting. I was young and thought there was a purpose to my life." Duo shrugged, leaning back so the metal stairs dug into his back. "After the Maxwell Church I had so much guilt. I started spending too much time with unsavory people. They taught me things that no kid should know, even a street rat."

He hadn't even realized he'd lit up, blowing smoke away from Heero and offering an apologetic smile. "Sorry."

"You always smoked, even during the wars," Heero said, looking up at Duo. "Even when you tried to hide it I could always smell it on you."

Duo raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't up to the lectures back then. It wasn't so much that I was trying to hide it as not broadcast it. During the wars smoking was all I had. Nicotine and adrenaline, what a magical combination." He closed his eyes, remembering a time when the adrenaline had been enough. A couple of magical years where the itch just went away. "It didn't really hit me until after it all was over that I hadn't had the urge to use while I had Deathscythe. Courting Death on a daily basis was enough to keep me occupied I guess."

"You were gone three years after the war," Heero stated, leaning into Duo's legs. It was a comforting gesture. "Why didn't you stay with us if you knew what you were going back to?"

"I couldn't stay. The day we destroyed our Gundams ... it was like a hungry beast woke up inside of me and all I wanted to do is feed it." Duo shook his head slightly, not opening his eyes. "I became someone that I didn't want you to see. Hell, I became someone that I didn't want to see."

"But you came back," Heero prodded gently. "That counts for something."

"You asked," Duo said softly, opening his eyes to find Heero looking up at him in confusion. "You asked and I figured I could at least try. For you, I valued your friendship. And times were getting too dark, even for me."

Duo rubbed his face and Heero took hold of his hand, pulling his arm out straight and looking at the inside of his arm. He ran his fingers over the marked skin so gently that it made Duo ache. The track marks were old but still horrifying in Duo's mind. "You haven't been using."

Duo laughed. "You couldn't tell that from my arms, Heero, there are ways around that and other drugs that would do me just as well. But no, I haven't been using and it's been really fucking hard."

"Isn't it harder hanging out at a bar?" Heero shrugged, looking uncomfortable. "I mean, if you stayed away from temptation? Wouldn't that be easier?"

Duo shook his head and offered a sad smile. "Temptation follows me wherever I go, it doesn't matter. It's worse when I'm alone, I need the distraction."

"A distraction ... like the men?" Heero's tone was angry, almost hurt, and made Duo ache even more.

"Ouch." He felt blood rush to his cheeks; Heero wasn't one to pull punches.

Heero's eyes grew sad and he turned to look at his hands. "Maybe that's the part that gets me the most. I can understand the concept of addiction and I can understand the need for escape ... but why do you want people to hurt you?"

This was the last place Duo thought the conversation would go. He was speechless. So he liked it rough, that didn't mean he was begging to be hurt. "I don't ... it's just sex."

"Sex doesn't need to be like that."

"Says the man who has yet to christen his bed," Duo snorted, starting to get angry.

Heero looked up and frowned. "Like you're taking anyone home with you. Bathrooms, alleys, back roo-"

"This isn't about my sex life," Duo growled, another cigarette magically appearing.

"No, it's about you trying to destroy yourself by whatever means possible." Heero took a deep breath, staring at the sky. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"Because you're worth more than that."

"Says you," Duo snorted again, shaking his head. He stood up, his ass numb from sitting on the cold metal steps. "It's getting cold, let's go inside."

~*~

Duo had made it to Wednesday before returning to the bar. He felt guilty being there even though he'd been drinking beer instead of the hard stuff and had refused two offers for company. He'd promised Heero that he'd call him the next time he needed distractions, but asking for help had always been a hard thing for him. He'd actually had the phone in his hands a couple times over the last few days to call, but he kept thinking about the night he'd spent at Heero's apartment and stopped himself. Heero deserved to be around better people than him. He wasn't feeling sorry for himself; he honestly believed it was the truth.

He'd woken up to the smell of fresh coffee and... Tool? It took him a full minute for his sleep-addled brain to remember he was at Heero's; it was the Tool that caught him off guard. He stared at the ceiling listening to the music realizing that he didn't really know that much about his friend. It had been four years since the wars and Duo was embarrassed to admit that he didn't know Heero at all. 'It's not like he knows me much better,' Duo's mind whispered defensively.

"Not for lack of trying," Duo's mind whispered back. It was Heero who had called him when he was on L2 at least once a week. It was Heero who'd stayed on the line when he was out of his fucking mind and rambling nonsense. It was Heero who begged him to come back, helped him find a job, helped him find an apartment... it was Heero who was really keeping him clean.

With a groan Duo forced himself off the couch and towards the kitchen. He stood in the doorway a minute, watching Heero sitting at the table reading the newspaper while his head bobbed slightly with the music, and let himself relax. "Morning."

Heero looked up and grinned, pushing out the chair adjacent to him with his foot. "Afternoon."

Crossing the kitchen, Duo sat and stifled a yawn. "What time is it?"

"Almost one. Hungry?"

He shook his head. "Why didn't you wake me earlier? I hope I'm not messing up your plans."

"You were tired and needed the sleep." Heero folded the paper and shrugged. "And the only plans I have are with you."

Duo leaned against the table, propping his head up with his hand. Heero was looking at him with an unreadable expression and it was making him uneasy. "I'm sorry about last night."

"Don't be sorry, just talk to me. I want to help-"

"Didn't we already talk?" Duo sat up and crossed his arms. "What else is there to say?"

Heero frowned. "Everything you avoided saying last night for starters."

"I said everything I was going to say," Duo said in a low voice before getting up and heading into the bathroom. His clothes were still on the floor, but had been folded neatly, and he quickly got back into them. He didn't need a fucking intervention, he just needed ... he wasn't going there.

Glancing in the mirror Duo figured he'd been out in public looking much worse and opened the bathroom door. He expected Heero to be angry with him, but he hadn't expected Heero to look so fucking ... unhappy.

"Duo, don't go." Heero angled his body so it was blocking the door, his hands at his side in attempts of looking non-threatening.

"Listen, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't really understand what you expect to happen. I don't know how to stop feeling how I do, how to stop needing like I do. You don't need my excess baggage, Heero."

Heero looked at the floor for a minute before looking up through the fringe of his bangs. "Maybe if you had something else to need? Someone else? Maybe it would be easier."

Duo laughed, shaking his head. "Like I want to drag someone down with me. I can barely keep plants alive."

Taking a step forward, Heero reached out and grabbed Duo's wrist. "You need someone to pull you back up. Let me." Heero's voice was soft and pleading, making Duo's heart pound. "I won't let you fall."

"I care about you too much for that," Duo replied sadly, trying to breathe. "Why do you think I stayed away?"

"Why do you think I wanted you to come back?"

Heero eyes were pleading but Duo just couldn't give. He pulled his arm away, relieved when Heero relinquished his hold. "I've got to go."

"Promise me you'll call me. Before you ... just promise me that you'll let me be there for you."

The lights went out as the first band hit the stage. Duo turned on his stool to see the stage better, downing the rest of his beer. His skin felt too tight, his mind too disorganized. Motioning for Stick, Duo lit up a cigarette and promised himself he'd just have one shot to take the edge off.

Just one.

Pressed up against the bathroom stall Duo tried to focus as a rough hand rubbed against the crotch of his jeans and an almost violent tongue probed his mouth. His brain was working in slow motion, his thoughts painful to conjure. He'd drank too much, he knew that, and his guilt was overriding everything. He needed to stop, he needed this to end, he needed ...

He pushed the man away, vaguely remembering him from one of the bands that played earlier, and left the bathroom without a word. The music in the bar was loud as the last band of the night hit the stage and Duo had to maneuver his way through the crowd to stagger outside. It was raining out, and he welcomed it along with the fresh air to clear his head. He didn't want this. He didn't fucking want this! Rubbing his arms he tried to think, tried to get his legs to carry him home. Just go back inside. Go back, score some dope and forget. It would be so easy.

He lifted his face to the sky, letting the rain hit him. He saw Heero's eyes in his mind, making him hurt. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed without thinking, not caring that the voice that answered was thick with sleep. Afraid to turn back.

"Be my sanctuary, Heero. Please ..."

Duo slid against the brick exterior of the bar and sat on the ground, his clothes and hair soaked with the pouring rain. He held his cell phone against his chest like a security blanket and closed his eyes. Come for me, please come for me.

There were no words as familiar hands lifted him off the ground and put him in the car. No accusations, no lectures as the car moved through dark and deserted streets, heat pouring out of the vents as he shivered. Duo kept his eyes closed, wishing he wasn't so drunk, wishing he could think clearly. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He forced his eyes opened when he was pulled him from the car and an arm slipped around his waist, keeping his gazed locked to the pavement. He couldn't look, he didn't want to see. The ground felt like it was moving under his feet and suddenly his stomach lurched. A supporting hand on his back when he went down on his knees and threw up on the sidewalk. Fingers rubbing the back of his neck as he dry heaved. Such a fucking nightmare.

"Come on, Duo." Soothing, tired ... not angry. He managed to get back on his feet and maneuver the stairs. He managed to keep his feet while sure hands helped him undress and wrapped a thick towel around him. Gentle hands undoing his braid and squeezing the excess water from his hair. "It's okay ... it's okay..."

~*~

The pounding rain against the window woke him up. He opened his eyes when he realized the rain sounded wrong, the window was in the wrong place. It only took him a couple of seconds to figure out where he was, in the bed the helped move here and a familiar scent on the sheets, but he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. Trying to be silent he rolled to his back, wincing at the pain in his head, and tried to remember. Slowly it came back to him - endless shots of whiskey, the trip to the bathroom with promises of a hard fuck and some coke, the call to Heero.

Heero.

"I'm sorry, Heero, I'm so fucking sorry."

Strong arms wrapped around him, the feel of lips pressed against his temple, the comforting weight of blankets and body heat. "Shhh... it's okay. I'm here."

Duo tried to sit up and groaned out loud. His chest was bare but he was wearing a pair of Heero's sweats tied tight around his hips to keep them from slipping. He remembered Heero drying him off and helping him dress.

"No more, Duo. Promise me, no more."

He couldn't remember if he'd promised before he'd passed out. He only remembered feeling safe, knowing he could let his guard down without worry. That was why he'd never brought anyone back to his apartment, there was no way he could leave himself unprotected with anyone like that. Anyone but Heero.

"How're you feeling?"

Looking up he found Heero leaning against the doorjamb, dark circles under his eyes and his hair still mussed from sleep. Duo curled up on his side and searched Heero's face. Heero looked drained. "Like I should, I guess. You?"

Heero crossed the room and stood by the bed, looking down at Duo. "Tell me you'll stay," he said gently. "Tell me you'll try to find what you need in me." He dropped to his knees at the side of the bed and touched Duo's face. "I don't ever want to find you like that again. When things get intense promise me that I'll be your sanctuary."

The panic Duo felt must've shown in his eyes because Heero's hand was suddenly gripping his arm, his expression hard. "Don't." Leaning in, Heero rested his forehead on Duo's shoulder. "Just promise me."

Reaching up he ran his fingers through Heero's hair. It was so soft between his fingers, the scalp so warm. He let his fingers drop to Heero's neck, stroking across the soft skin. "It won't be easy," Duo said with a rough voice. "I'm so fucked up. You don't need-"

Heero lifted his head and looked into Duo's eyes. "I need you. I've always needed you. Just tell me you'll stay."

So conflicted. So fucked up. Was it wrong for him to want this? "I'll stay," Duo whispered, running his fingers over the stubble on Heero's cheek. "You're an idiot to want me."

"I was an idiot to let you go to begin with." Heero straightened up and smiled softly. "Now go brush your teeth."

Duo grinned and slowly pushed himself up. "Why, you want to kiss me?"

"Yeah, but not bad enough to forget that you were puking on the sidewalk before you passed out." Heero stood and offered Duo a hand up. "Good thing it's raining out."

Laughing, Duo stood and wrapped his arms around Heero's waist, amazed at how ... natural it felt to have Heero close. "Thank you."

Heero gave him a squeeze before pushing him gently towards the shower. "Thank me after you shower, you're making my eyes water."

~*~

Tender. Gentle. Loving. Duo had never in his life been touched like this. He fisted his hands in the sheets, arching up and biting his lip. Heero's mouth and slick fingers disappeared for a moment before the secure weight of Heero's body pressed against him. Duo opened his eyes and watched Heero's face as their bodies joined, awed by the emotion he saw there.

Sex doesn't need to be like that.

He remembered the sadness in Heero's voice when he'd said that, but Duo genuinely hadn't known. Sex had always been hard, fast and rough. The things that Heero did to him defied any definitions of sex he'd ever had. He'd never known anything like this and prayed to any gods who would listen that he'd never have to live without it again

"Look at me," Heero panted, nipping at Duo's bottom lip.

Duo forced his eyes open, barely aware that they'd drifted shut and almost forgot to breathe. He'd never seen such love and desire on any man's face before and to see it on Heero's was overwhelming. Heero shifted, moving deeper, his rhythm becoming frantic. Duo focused on the deep blue of Heero's eyes as he came between their bodies, watching Heero's mouth open and gasp as he followed suit.

Heero slumped over him for a brief moment before he rolled off to lie on his back, chest heaving. He reached over his head and grabbed the box of tissues, taking one and handing the box to Duo with a grin. "You okay?"

Duo plucked a tissue from the box and wiped at the mess on his stomach. "As long as you don't ask me to move I'm fine." Duo tossed the balled up tissues around where he thought the trash was and rolled to face Heero. "Get that smirk off your face, you cocky bastard."

"I'm not cocky," Heero said with a chuckle, rolling to pull Duo into his arms. "I'm just happy."

"Mm?" Duo kissed Heero's chin. "You're happy because you just got laid?"

Heero shook his head, taking hold of Duo's hand, and kissing the palm. "I'm happy because I'm here like this, with you."

"Getting laid?" Duo teased, bringing their joined hands to his mouth and lightly biting Heero's knuckles.

With a growl Heero pinned Duo to the bed and grinned down at him. "I've waited a long time to be like this with you, don't ruin my moment." Heero's expression grew serious. "You make me whole."

Duo smiled, stroking Heero's cheek. "You gave me hope and something to live for."

"We both have a lot to live for."

++++

END

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