pairings: 1x2, 3x4, 5xM
warning: a weeeeee bit of angst.
disclaimer: right, no own.
+ Part 13
-The Twelfth Encounter-
I never did believe the stupid premise that love made everything all right.
Why do I say this now? Perhaps it is because my work is suffering just
a bit due to the suddenness and frequency in which Heero enters my thoughts.
It might be that I am turning my self-admission of love over and over
in my head, trying to view it from every angle to see if I had it right.
It could even be that I cannot seem to think of Heero without the accompanying
The kiss had done it. It had turned me from a well functioning, exceptional
specimen of the society to a spacey, day dreaming idiot. At random times,
the kiss would come alive in my head again and I end up relieving every
single moment of it until I realize where I am. Usually, I am alone in
my office, buried to my nose in papers and documents, but that one time,
when I actually blanked out during an opening argument with a jury staring
back at me expectantly, I knew I had to fix my problem.
Is it me or did I develop massive amounts of problems since I met Heero?
Friday, five days after the kiss, or rather, the kisses, I sat at my home
in my boxers and undershirt, thinking about my newly developed problem.
Love was one thing, but it should not be interfering with my work. Let's
face it, there are innumerable amount of people in this world who are
in love or in the process of falling in love and I'm sure they do not
make a complete moron out of themselves at work.
What was so unique about my experience that I have become the spacey ranger?
My only excuse is that this is the first time in my life that I could
admit that I might love someone. I am not quite at the 'I am absolutely,
positively, fantastically in love' stage yet, but the rate it is going,
I may get there before I know it. What will I do when my feelings get
deeper and stronger? Fall into a coma?
First love. I finally found that elusive rite of passage that everyone
else seemed to have passed earlier in their lives. I can finally understand
why Quatre had always been so damned giddy when he and Trowa started being
together. I can comprehend the strange, dancing lights in Trowa's eyes
whenever he happens to have Quatre in his field of vision. But hell, neither
of them act the fool like I am doing right now.
So, whatever am I doing on a Friday night, at my home, dressed in nothing
but skivvies? I haven't invited Heero over to join me, I haven't called
my friends to go out, and I haven't made any plans for the evening. I
was entwined within my thoughts, trying to get my brain back to normal
before Monday so that I could work without mental faltering.
Thankfully, my vicious circular thinking was interrupted by my phone.
I know who it is on the other end, but I try to sound uninterested. It
is a game I have to keep myself on edge, I think.
"Duo, what are you doing inside on a Friday night?"
Honestly, I could not say 'I'm at home, devising ways to make my brain
forget Heero while I am at work.' That would sound as if I should become
a friendly member of the local mental asylum. Perhaps not so extreme,
but at least an out-patient.
"Are you coming out with us?"
I suppose I haven't really talked or hung out with my friends during the
week. I had been overly immersed with my and Heero's newfound way of expressing
our relationship. The thing is, I had always berated those who put their
friends on the wayside for the sake of a new relationship, always belittling
their attention span and devotion to their friends.
God forbid I turn into one of those.
"Sure, Quat. Name the place and I'll be there in half an hour."
In actuality, it took me slightly longer than half an hour to get to the
bar of choice due to my inattention. I failed to notice that I had walked
out into the parking garage where my car was without any pants on until
the breeze hit my bare legs. Now, how did I not notice my lack of pants?
I blame it on Heero and his kisses.
The bar was fairly packed which was not surprising since it was Friday,
but it was not hard to pinpoint my friends. They tend to stand out, being
so very attractive and all. Or maybe it was that Wufei was standing on
the table where everyone else was seated, blaring out.. a song?
I quickly made my way over to my friends who had the attention of almost
every single person at the bar. I could not believe my eyes for Wufei
is a reserved man in public most of the times. He didn't even sing karaoke
on open mike nights.
"What the hell is this?"
That was all I could say as I watched Wufei belt out yet another incomprehensible
line of a song. It seemed almost as if he did not know the words and was
just wading through it by mumbling.
"Oh, just an apology," Quatre answered, his face a delightful
picture of repressed humor, "for telling Meiran that she looked interesting
in her skirt."
"I take it then that interesting was not a good word?"
"Not at all," Meiran fumed, "it practically implied that
I looked fat."
Right. For the nth time in my life, I have to wonder what it was about
women and their perceived weight problems. I am quite certain that when
Wufei had said interesting, he had most likely meant it in a flattering
way, but women have some strange organ in their brain that translated
most adjectives used to describe them as 'fat'. I hoped that Wufei would
find that organ and crush it beneath a large sledge hammer.
Soon enough, Wufei was done and he hopped down from the table gracefully.
He took a sit next to Meiran who looked moderately flattered.
"Satisfied, woman?" Wufei seethed.
My curiosity was eating me alive at this point. I just had to ask.
"So, you sang her an apology?"
Perhaps I sounded a bit too much like I was trying not to laugh, but I
could not help it.
"Yes," Wufei said glaring at my general direction, "because
she said a mere apology wouldn't cut it. So I sang it. Now, drop it or
I drop you."
Well, was it me or was a certain someone a bit too grumpy tonight? This
is what I get for being late, I miss all the fun and only catch the ire
at the end.
"So," Quatre said hastily, "have you and Heero gotten anywhere
I take a moment of silence here to mourn Quatre for I am about to strangle
"Yes," Trowa said almost immediately, "you were having
"A crisis," Wufei jumped in, his eyes glinting with vengeance,
"in the Maxwell camp? My, whatever do you mean?"
"Who's Heero?" Leave it to Meiran to ask a question that would
lead to an extra long, convoluted history of my current love life.
Hence, it was at this lovely gathering of friends that I finally confessed
to Wufei and Meiran just who I had been dating for the last few weeks.
First, I think I may have given Wufei a brain aneurysm for he could not
fathom how I had ended up in a relationship with a man. Second, after
sufficient recovery time, Wufei yelled at me rather indignantly for keeping
such a big, life changing event to myself. Third, I was showered with
congratulations for breaking the physical barrier with Heero.
"So," Quatre said lazily, "I suppose you don't have problems
with Heero anymore in that department."
"All solved, no thanks to you. You were mean, remember?"
"You called at four in the morning. You're lucky he didn't jump through
the phone and kill you."
Trowa must have been pissed still for my untimely call, but friends are
supposed to suffer with their fellow friends, are they not?
Surprisingly, it would fall upon Meiran to make the conversation damned
awkward for me and amusing for others.
"Have you had sex with him yet?"
A few things that I must point out while I'm trying to stuff my eyes back
into their sockets: Meiran is a delicate looking girl, small and feminine.
I did not ever anticipate her asking me questions so bold and brash that
I would end up choking on my drink. Also, I have known Meiran for a couple
of months at the most by now, ever since she married Wufei. We are not
the closest of friends nor do we share a special bond of any sort. So
it is not wrong to be taken aback by that question.
"It is not your business to know!"
I have not sounded that squeaky since my fourteenth year of life when
puberty hit me hard and my voice paid the price by running away to soprano
"But it's a good question," Wufei rolled right along, "and
since when have you been shy about talking about sex?"
That is an undisputable point. I am not shy about sex. In fact, I have
been known to talk about that oft celebrated topic in crude terms in loud
voices. I have made all of these guys blush innumerable amount of times
in the past with my thoughts on sex.
Therefore, it is completely daft of me to blush when they ask me about
my sex life. However, I cannot seem to stop that rush of blood along my
cheeks, flushing me to the roots of my hair.
"I am not shy," I groused out through clenched teeth, "and
no, we have not had sex yet. Happy?"
"Oh, we're ecstatic," Quatre said almost too nonchalantly, "but
you aren't, I bet. What is keeping you from getting laid?"
"Wait, wait, have you even gotten to first base?"
I throw an incredulous look at Quatre and Meiran because the conversation
is getting out of hand. I concede that it is normal for friends to grill
another friend on the state of their love life, it is a tradition that
has been with human society for as long as there has been speech. Yet,
I cannot help but feel as if I should not answer, as if what I did with
Heero was too personal even for my best of friends.
"First base?" Wufei jumped in condescendingly, "what, are
we in high school again? And just what is first base? Everyone has a different
Thankfully, the conversation changed course from that point, everyone
inputting as to their own private definition of first base and so on.
Apparently, girls have a different version of the whole baseball analogy
from the guys. But then again, why wouldn't they for they are creatures
that defy comprehension and logic?
When the night comes to an end, we all say our respective good byes and
I get good natured ribbing from my friends for not having had sex for
nearly two months. I take it well, throw back some taunts from my arsenal
and go home to sleep.
Sleep, as good as that sounds, did not come easily because I kept thinking
about Heero and what he was doing at that point in time. Moreover, when
sleep did finally come, it was plagued with dreams about Heero.
Can't I stop thinking about him just for one, solitary moment so I can
have some normalcy in my life?
The next morning, I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing. Usually,
when a phone wakes me up, I tend to just turn the ringer off so that I
can sleep in peacefully. However, this time, the caller I.D. showed that
it was Heero and as much as I wanted to, I could not let it go. The situation
is getting worse.
"What's up, Heero."
I cannot help the dreary tone of my voice. I am not a morning person,
especially on a Saturday after I spent the night before drinking.
"Duo, you sound horrible. Fun night?"
He sounds damned amused at my pain. Is that how your boyfriend is supposed
to treat you when you are not feeling your best?
"Oh, yeah, a blast. My friends made fun of me the whole night."
That is a definite exaggeration, but I had felt a bit persecuted last
night so I believe I am entitled to a bit of hyperbole.
"Good friends will do that," Heero chuckles out, "and I
missed you last night."
Grounding point number one: if my erratic thought behavior is any indication,
I missed him last night too. Grounding point number two: no way in hell
I'm going to admit that I've become dependent on his presence for I am
an independent male of good means who need no other to complete him. Grounding
point number three: the situation, as they say in the military, has gone
to Def-Con 3.
"Heero, I saw you Thursday. Remember?"
"I know," he replies with a hint of warmth, "but that doesn't
mean I don't miss you when I don't see you."
"That's ridiculous," I continue, determined to see this through,
"you can't miss me unless it has been a week, at least. Those are
the unwritten rules, pal."
"I never did like rules," Heero banters back, "so I can
do what I wish."
I feel so frustrated. Does he not see what I'm trying to say, that it
is completely unreasonable that we miss each other because we didn't see
the other for one day? It is not normal for people to do that, for me
to feel that.
"Look, Heero," I reply, hoping that I could get my point across,
"we see each other practically every day. There is no reason for
you to miss me for a one day absence, okay?"
I can actually sense the frown and the slight disappointment coming through
the phone line, but damn it all, we were getting unhealthy. People do
not need to see each other every day to feel like the world is right.
I certainly didn't need it, right? After all, I'm trying to clear some
room in my brain so that I can lead a marginally normal life. I am desperately
trying to stop thinking about Heero so that I can work again.
"I apologize," Heero says a bit stiltedly, "for missing
you. I won't do it again unless a week has passed."
Damn. I probably hurt him. Again.
"Shit," I swear, feeling like a jackass, "I didn't mean
to say anything to make you feel bad, Heero. It's just that.. um, I'll
be busy next week so I won't be able to see you until next weekend so
I was trying to say.."
For an attorney who can convince twelve people he's never met that the
slimeball next to me is innocent, I'm doing a piss poor job of convincing
the man I'm seeing that I didn't mean to hurt him.
"It's okay, Duo. I'll just see you for lunch on Monday? I'll come
by your office."
That is where I hit the brakes full on and say something that I probably
"No, don't do that. People at my office will see you."
How many ways can one person interpret that sentence? I bet there are
many different ways, but I also bet that each interpretation is not a
How can I tell? The fact that there is a dead silence lingering on the
"I mean," I try to amend, "not that I mind people seeing
you there, I'm sure they have already, but I think people are talking
about us, you know? The gossip mill is on full tilt and it's a bitch."
Just what am I trying to do? I don't exactly know. My dilemma is that
I cannot stop thinking about Heero at all. I was supposed to solve that
dilemma by working hard and pushing him out of my head. Yet, Heero had
brought up yet another thing that had been on my radar lately, that I
don't want people at work to talk about us, or maybe even know about us.
Granted, the work problem did not come to my full attention until he suggested
he show up at my office in broad daylight with my bosses, associates and
secretaries around, but it's a valid problem nonetheless.
I work at a law firm. Get the picture?
Heero certainly did. And I think the frost that accompanied his reply
froze me solid.
"I understand, Duo."
Three short words and then click. He hung up.
[part 14] [back to 0083's