Roommates

Duke didn't think he was in love, but sometimes it seemed he was close.

Much as he might have wished otherwise, it was impossible to not be attracted. God...those eyes, blue as the sky at midnight and deep enough for any man to drown in...that long silky hair he was nearly desperate to run his fingers through...that body, so taut, so perfect, so-

"What the hell's wrong with you?"

His roommate's voice jolted Duke out of his reverie. He looked up to see Jezrael Swordfeather leaning against the closet door, buttoning his long black coat, watching him with unmasked amusement.

"I-" Duke ran a hand through his hair, feeling his face flush with heat. "Nothing, it's nothing, I was just...daydreaming, I guess." He shook his head, trying to dispel the trance that had held him. "Remind me where you're going again, Jez?"

"Are you sure you're all right? Sure you're not feverish? You do look a bit glazed." Jezrael's tone was faintly mocking, faintly irritated. "I'm going to the Snowdrake, remember? Marcus wanted one of us to see if they've anything new that's worth stealing, and you can't go, because you've got that date with-well, whatever her name is...."

"Sheila," Duke said weakly, suddenly remembering. "Yeah."

"I suppose if you didn't have so many of them I'd remember them better." Jezrael opened the door, his coat swirling about his ankles, and paused to grin at Duke. "See if you and your memory can do without me for a few hours, all right?"

***

For a moment or two after Jezrael's departure, Duke stood there looking after him; then with a muffled curse he flung himself on his bed. He was angry with himself, partially for forgetting about Sheila...but only partially.

The hell with Sheila; it was Jezrael he needed to talk to.

"But how?" the young drake muttered, turning over onto his back to stare at the ceiling. "What am I supposed to do-say that I've got a crush on him, like I'm some stupid kid? It's not like he'd believe me, the way the girls like to hang around...hell, it's not even like he's interested."

Maybe it was just that...a crush. But he couldn't deny that he'd fallen for Jezrael, months ago, hard. He hadn't given the older drake much thought when they'd first begun to get acquainted; but when they'd started sharing quarters here in the Haven, Duke had started paying attention to his new roommate: the graceful catlike way he moved, the play of tension in his body when they sparred, the heavy-lidded contemplative look he got when something was on his mind. Even Jezrael's posh accent-the product of aristocratic breeding and private education, and for Duke a source of annoyance at first-had become devilishly easy to listen to. Upon learning that Jezrael was an early riser, Duke had trained himself to lie awake in the wee hours of the morning, shamming sleep with barely-open eyes in order to watch him dress-embarrassing and difficult, but oh, so gratifying.

But I don't know why I'm bothering, Duke thought. He probably thinks I'm a nice guy and all that, but he's not interested in me, not that way. And if I say anything...God, he won't even want to be around me, let alone....

"I don't care," he said aloud. "I don't care, even if it ruins everything. Even if he doesn't want to be friends. I've got to tell him. I can't stand it anymore."

***

Jezrael had found nothing of particular interest at the Snowdrake, which irritated him; and after his careful crawl through the museum's darkened corridors he'd walked out into a thin cold rain, which irritated him more. He knew he should head back to the Haven, but he couldn't bring himself to do it yet, contenting himself with merely drifting in its general direction. He had too much on his mind.

More specifically, he had Duke on his mind.

These days the younger man seemed to be spending a great deal of time somewhere else...at least mentally. Maybe he was telling the truth, maybe he was just daydreaming, woolgathering, but it seemed to be happening more often lately.

It's like he's on another world, it's uncanny, Jezrael decided. I wonder who he's thinking about when he gets like that...can't be Sheila, poor girl, it was plain he'd forgotten all about her. Must be someone new that's caught his eye...or maybe one of his regulars, maybe Martine or Elaine. Of course, he says that those girls don't mean anything to him, that they're just something to do, but still....

He frowned. Even this morning....

They'd been having breakfast in the cafeteria...and females, as usual, surrounded Duke. Jezrael had tried not to notice it, but Falcone had nudged him in the ribs and said, Look at that, Swordfeather. It's enough to make you sick, all those little tramps hanging about. The man's got his own harem.

Falcone had laughed as he said this; but then he'd looked thoughtful and said sourly, Makes you wish some of them would look at you that way, doesn't it?

Jezrael didn't recall now what he'd answered to this, only that it had been carefully noncommittal; there were a few young ladies in Duke's "harem" that Falcone himself fancied. But he remembered perfectly well what he'd thought.

Never mind them. I want Duke to look at me that way.

It had shocked him when he'd first realized he was becoming attracted to another man-and Duke, of all people-but he'd long since gotten over being shocked, and had settled instead for a kind of chronic dismay. He knew it would be pointless to say anything, so he kept his feelings to himself; why would Duke even look twice at a man when he nearly had more girls than he could choose from?

Just once...just once, I wish.... There was a stone in his path and he kicked it aside in frustration. I want him to kiss me, to touch me, to.... The rest of it made him blush violently and shiver.

A sudden coldness across the top of his beak broke into his thoughts. Jezrael shivered again, looked around, realized that the rain was turning to snow.

He was only a few blocks from the Haven. Grimly he forced some resolution into his step and walked faster.

***

When he opened the door he saw that the room was dim but not wholly dark, not enough to bother with the lights. Duke was lying in bed, on top of the covers, still dressed and wide awake; he was propped up on his elbows, his chin in his hands, looking thoughtful.

But he turned when he realized Jezrael had come in. "Hey. You're wet."

"It was raining." Jezrael shrugged out of his damp coat, hung it up to dry. "What happened to Sheila?"

"Oh...." Duke looked a little guilty. "I decided not to go."

Jezrael regarded him with the strange feeling that he should be handled cautiously; then he said, as lightly as he could, "I'm sure she'll love you for that. What changed your mind-is her sister prettier?"

"Dammit, Jezrael." Duke sprang to his feet. "I stayed in because I wanted to talk to you, all right?"

He looked worried, and more than a little angry. Involuntarily Jezrael took a step back, feeling the closet door against his back, and carefully he answered, "I'm right here. What's on your mind?"

"It's-there's something I need to tell you," the younger drake began, approaching Jezrael tentatively. "I need-oh, Lord, I don't know how to say this."

His tone was alarming. Jezrael started to speak-and Duke kissed him.

The first jolt of sensation made Jezrael's deep blue eyes open wide, something like fear sparking in them briefly; and Duke, suddenly ashamed, pulled away.

Jezrael was already breathless, his mind reeling in wondrous disbelief. For a split second he'd felt as if he were drowning, and it was the most glorious feeling in the world.

He reached out, but Duke turned abruptly away. "Oh God, I'm sorry, what am I doing, I'm so sorry-"

"Duke-Duke, you've nothing to be sorry about-"

"-I can't help it, Jezrael, you're all I think about." Duke looked suddenly miserable. "I think I'm in love with you."

You're all I think about. I think I'm in love with you. Dear, dear God. Jezrael could feel his knees unhinge; it was overwhelming. "S-say that again."

"I'm in love with you," Duke whispered. "Look, I know what you're thinking-"

"I'm thinking," Jezrael answered with equal softness, "that I want you to kiss me again. Just for practice."

"What!" Duke gaped at him. "Jezrael, are you saying...?"

"If this is how it feels to care about someone," Jezrael said heavily, "then I think I'm in love with you too."

"But...." Duke still wore a look of disbelief. "You-you mean all this time, I've felt this way about you, and I've been-"

"-Trying to hide it, because I never dreamed you'd feel the same way, so I never said anything?" Jezrael nodded. "Yes, that's about it."

There was silence for a moment; then Duke took him by the shoulders and they kissed again; and this time several long seconds passed before they were breathless enough to break apart.

But at last they did, and Jezrael touched his fingertips to the tip of Duke's beak, wondering if he himself shared the gray drake's dazed look.

"So you've been telling the truth all along," he murmured, "when you've said the girls didn't matter."

Duke kissed his fingertips lightly, nodded. "They never have-oh, they're all friendly enough, and some of them are really nice, but...they're not you." He smiled slightly. "I think most of 'em only hang around to see if I'll sleep with them, but I keep telling them I'm waiting for Miss Right...though it looks like I've found Mister Right instead."

Jezrael pulled him a little closer. "I'd say we both have."

"Come to bed with me?" The words tumbled out a little too quickly, and hastily Duke added, "You know, just to-to talk."

"Just to talk?" Jezrael gave him a sly smile. "Is that really all you want to do?"

"Well...." Duke crimsoned faintly. "Maybe not."

Jezrael grinned at him then and began to undress. "I didn't think so."