Being in a relationship with Duo Maxwell is... tiring. Tiring, because of the constant noise, which starts when he wakes up, immediately rattling about the dreams or the nightmares he had, seamlessly changing into breakfast talk, with comment on the color of the milk to the warmth of the sun in the early morning. It only ends when he rolls into his bed again, tired from a day of work, of interaction, of talking. Then, there's the music- from the news with easy listening tunes in the morning, to general radio hits during the day, to his personal preference of horrid opera rock and gothic metal in the evening.
Being in a relationship with Duo Maxwell is... magnificent. He's caring, friendly, outgoing, gregarious, loving, generous, a hot sexy guy who looks good in everything, a lover who likes it both rough and gentle- depending on his mood-, a partner who can uphold himself in discussion, works hard, is always ready to lend a helping hand, a listening ear, a broad shoulder to cry on. He's a bundle of energy, a ray of sunshine, touching and warming the heart of anyone he meets.
Are there downsides to being a relationship with Duo Maxwell? I'm sure there are- like his nasty habit to hold grudges. Hold them? He clings to them, cherishes them, nourishes them. It's not easy offending or hurting him, but when you do... he'll never let you live to forget it. He can throw hissy fits, temper tantrums, and for the necessary variation, blow a fuse so loud that the whole neighborhood can hear it. That doesn't happen very often, though- in fact, I can barely recall the last time we had a fight. We're both very reasonable, we talk about everything like adult people do, and we discuss anything that's bothering us.
With that said, it annoys me at this very moment that something is bothering Duo, but he's not talking about it. I know his smiles, I know them all on the back of my hand. The way he's smiling at me is his "I-am-bothered-with-something-but-not-telling-you-until-you-find-out-yourself" smile. I hate that one in particular. Did I mention I have the tact or subtlety of a brick? Exactly. So, that's why I invited Quatre over, our resident Gundam psychologist. Oh, don't get me wrong, the war is over, we're enjoying more than five years of peace already, but Quatre is the one who holds the best views on everyone, I think. At least an objective view.
"It's so great to have lunch at your home, Heero," he tells me, his corn blue eyes following me with every movement, a warm smile radiating off of his face.
Don't let that face fool you- this is the CEO of Winner Enterprises we're talking about here- not only has he been elected Businessman of the Year for three consecutive years now, he eats company mergers and fusions for breakfast. Not for lunch. He has stock markets and other shares meetings for lunch, but this time he settled for coming over to our place. Not surprisingly- our farm is much nicer than a cold business building.
Ah yes, the farm. We bought it at Duo's recommendation, and indeed, I never regretted it for one second. I doubted we could pay for it, seeing the amount of our war pension- it still makes me snort, but we were settled with a war pension after the Eve Wars ended-, and we were jobless for quite the few months. I never mentioned how hard it was to get adjusted to the 'real' world, now did I...?
It's another story all together, and let me tell you that Duo was the main reason I made it through. I wasn't standing in the bathroom wanting to slit my wrists, but I wasn't exactly mister Happy Face either. Duo helped me, listened to me, and was silent and talkative at the right moment. It helped considerably that he returned the feelings I had for him- I was afraid at first that I wouldn't live through a rejection, or that I was going too fast, but Duo accepted my love for him, showing me much love and a warm heart in return.
At the time that I felt ready to deal with the world and accepted a job in the civil society, Duo started showing signs of his past. He'd been so busy dealing with me and my problems that he ignored his own, and I failed to acknowledge he was going through a tough time himself. It was the first and only crisis of our relationship, but we pulled through.
We still have our quirks, though. Duo went to see a professional psychologist for a while, but ended the therapy sessions rather abruptly, not able to convey his feelings and problems and not feeling the therapist was the right one to help him. One observation from the preliminary report was striking, and fitting- Duo wasn't the one to work a 9 to 5 desk job, and wasn't the one to adapt to a stuffy environment filled with pencil pushers. It didn't take long for him to develop a love for restoring old cars, and finding a job at a renowned garage.
Me? I changed some jobs, finally finding my goal in the field of computer technology, developing security systems and software. We share the same love for cars and computers, though at different angles; I like to drive fast cars where Duo loves to wreck them in demolition derbies, I like fiddling around with computers while Duo loves to use them for gaming and Internet business only.
"I'd like to talk to you about something, Quatre," I say, as serious as I can be. He nods, the sneak- he already expected it. Yes, our blond little psychologist- we have lunch together with all the pilots together, twice or thrice a year, but inviting him alone with me, made alarm bells go off in his mind. I should've known this wouldn't be a surprise to him.
I serve lunch and he smiles at me, waiting for me to start. I clear my throat, suddenly finding it difficult to begin.
"It's about Duo."
"Duo," he repeats, nodding again. His eyes show nothing but genuine concern and interest; if there's a problem between us, he'd do anything to help us. The same would go for Trowa or Wufei and vice versa, but Quatre is just... more approachable about matters of the heart.
I stare at my coffee. "I know something is bothering him, but he doesn't want to talk about it."
As he remains silent, I continue: "Usually, when I notice something's bothering him, I ask until he's ready to talk about it, or I... eh... use other methods to persuade him. I don't have to resort to drastic measures, though- we have the rule that we talk and can talk about anything, but we do respect if the other doesn't want to talk... we'll wait until the other is ready."
"And you're sure this isn't a situation that Duo needs time until he's ready to talk?"
"Positively. I can see it from his smile."
Quatre stares at me, a little baffled, before he laughs softly. "Well, it's good to know that you know each other so well that you can notice from the littlest things that something's wrong."
"I don't know exactly if something's wrong per say," I hesitate to say, wondering why I took an iced tea out of the refrigerator. That's Duo's favorite drink, not mine.
"You said yourself that you respect each other if the other doesn't want to talk," Quatre says, the look on his face turning pensive. "That's good. You should never force your significant other into talking- force is never good."
"Says the one who squeezes out his every business associate," I object.
"Hey! I don't 'squeeze'," he protests.
"What about all the stories that you're such a tough negotiator?"
"That's something different than squeezing," Quatre points out, laughing softly. "Anyway, we're talking about you and Duo. Do you have any idea what could be bothering him?"
"I haven't got the slightest idea," I lament. "It's not his birthday. It's not that he bought new clothes or got himself a haircut and I forgot to compliment him. I can't recall our latest fight- we only had a discussion about mud wrestling on TV..."
Quatre hides his laughter politely behind his hand, putting down his fork. "Heero, isn't there any other thing that could've lead up to this?"
"No," I say, determinedly. "It started about a week or so ago, and he's just the same, but there's simply... something between us. I hoped that you could figure it out."
Shaking his head, Quatre poked at his food. "Heero, I'm not the expert of your relationship, or relationships in general for that matter. I stopped by the garage as you asked me too, and I spoke briefly with Duo before I headed over here."
"And, and?"
"I'm sorry Heero, but you have to figure this out for yourself. Duo didn't exactly confide in me, but I have quite the impression of what's going through his mind, and what's bothering him."
"Can't you tell me?" I'm quick to ask, cringing at the petulant sound of my voice.
"It has something to do with the amount of time that you're together," Quatre says, looking at me as if he's revealing the Big Dark and Ominous Secret. I gape at him, which elicits a laugh from him.
"I didn't kill your puppy, Heero, really! Just think about it. Five years since the war ended... five years that you're together, hmm?"
"Oh! He expects some kind of anniversary present?"
Quatre purses his lips, then gives me a slow nod. "Some kind of present," he finally says, but his tone of voice is strangely neutral. I barely notice it, as my mind is already providing me with several gift suggestions for the occasion. Maybe he's expecting some kind of anniversary party as well?
"Heero," I hear him say and I cringe again. I must've drifted off with my thoughts, as he uses that "Hear-me-General-Quatre" commanding voice, and my eyes snap open.
"Yes?"
"Don't get carried away now. The... kind of present he... would like to receive, may be different from what you're thinking about right now. I know how efficient you are, but also how... ehm... straightforward you are as well."
I tilt my head. Not only do I lack any kind of tact or subtlety, I don't pick up on others using it either.
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Think about it," Quatre nudges me, then continues eating. I know that's the most I can get out of him, and he leaves me confused and lost in thoughts. What is Duo expecting, and why the difficulties and mystery surrounding it? If he wanted an anniversary party, he could've simply asked or organized it himself.
He's not the one to pass up an opportunity to party, and a five-year anniversary is an excellent occasion to go all over town and invite our friends, call the catering service and a DJ for more of that terrible music and we're all set to celebrate.
It keeps playing through my mind, long after Quatre has left, thanking me for the healthy and nutritious lunch. I feel like he's laughing at me, but I can't imagine that Quatre out of all people would do that- he knows more but didn't want to tell me. Something I have to figure out for myself, huh? Well, maybe Duo wants to have a private party? A close celebration, with only the intimate of friends..? Or maybe just the two of us together? I leaf through our agenda- for some reason, Duo loves to scribble down all our appointments, instead of using his laptop or any other electronic device for an agenda.
It's one of those multifunctional ones, full of sticky notes, doodles, commercial ads and... my eye falls on one of the ads. Duo tends to doodle and draw when he's on the phone, and this ad isn't an exception- though it has been strangely altered, the message is crystal clear to me. I know what to do now... even if it's not easy.
When he comes home, I play perfectly gullible, kissing him, informing him that dinner's almost ready and that he has exactly fifteen minutes to shower and get dressed. He laughs and tells an anecdote from work, limiting his time to ten minutes, and I have to smack his ass before he finally gets going; I can hear him laugh while he's bustling about upstairs, talking and singing to himself.
I shouldn't have needed a commercial ad to figure out what was bothering Duo, but if there's one quirk about him, is that he can be as reclusive as no one else if he really chooses to be. If he really doesn't want to talk about something, it just doesn't happen- I can pry, beg, plead, lure, yell and scream all I want, he simply won't talk. I should've figured it out on my own, but well... subtlety and all that.
It has left me with not much time to prepare, and taking more time would probably just angered or annoyed Duo, and now I can pronounce what I'm thinking and feeling, probing if I'm right or not. We can always go from there... and my thoughts are interrupted as Duo bounces off the stairs, looking preposterous with his wet hair bundled up in a tower rivaling the hair of that Marge Simpson character.
"I'm huu~uungry!" He wails, immediately darting towards the large kitchen table.
"One moment, Duo, please," I tell him, standing in the kitchen door. He holds immediately still, looking at me, his face changing when seeing my serious look.
"Something the matter?" He asks, concern in his voice. He turns around, closing the distance between us, wrapping his arms around me.
"Yes, something's the matter," I say softly, studying his face. He hasn't changed much over the years- his face has lost a little bit of its original heart-shaped form, giving him a much more pronounced chin and jaw, a much more adult look. His chestnut bangs frame his face with those large violet-blue eyes, sparkling with his lust for life. He examines me, wondering what's wrong, ready to offer me consolation when necessary.
"I'm sorry," I whisper as I press a kiss to his cheek. "I should've seen... no, I should've noticed much earlier that something was bothering you, something fundamental."
"H-Heero, what are you talking about?"
"Shh, I know," I tell him, and I hold up the agenda, my fingers wedged between the paper to flip it open at the right page.
He stares at the ad, and suddenly blushes. "It's nothing like that," he murmurs, but he doesn't sound very serious.
"It's everything like that," I say, looking at him. "Duo, why didn't you tell me you wanted to get married so bad?"
He squirms a little, and for a moment I fear he's offended somehow, and that he breaks up the hug. He doesn't, but chews on his lip.
"It's not that important, Heero. Never mind, mkay? You have more things to worry about..."
"Duo, we get by fine on our own. We can pay all our bills, we can go out if we want to, we can go on vacation if we want to. We have a roof over our head, food in the pantry, friends we can visit and who we care for... this is the only thing missing in your life, right?"
"Not in yours," he mumbles, but he nods nonetheless. I know he's thinking about the rings- we gave each other rings years ago, just to show that we belonged together, a token of our bond. Apparently, Duo wants some more confirmation of that bond, something that runs deeper, something that's official.
"Same-sex marriages aren't legal in this country," he says brusquely and now he disrupts the hug, turning away from me. "It was stupid to think about, Heero, forget it."
"I'm sorry," I tell him again, and I reach for him, grabbing his hand. "I... I'm sorry that this isn't exactly the proposal you probably had in mind. You know I'm bad in the romantics department, Duo... but I want to be married to you, make you my husband officially. I know countries where same-sex marriages are legalized, we can go there for a holiday and get married. We can have our friends come over, and have the marriage we both want."
He turns towards me his smile so dazzling it almost blinds me.
"You're serious? You want to get married too?"
I simply nod. I'm the first one to admit it never meant that much to me and neither to Duo... until recently, I never heard him even mentioning it before. He's still smiling, though looks up at me rather coyly.
"I never knew that," he finally says. "You never hinted at it, never said anything about it. I tried to bring it up before, testing the waters, so to speak, and you were always so very neutral about it. We've been together for five years now, and I want to be with you for many, many years to come, but still... I figured this was a great occasion to finally pop the cork, you know."
"Your cork has long been popped," I comment dryly, and he finally laughs. It's his usual laugh, free of worry or any bother, and I heave a sigh of relief, inwardly.
"Duo," I speak his name as his laughter dies down. "Duo, I love you so much. Five years of ups and downs, five years of love and tears, of joy and sadness, of exuberance and grief. I wouldn't want to share my life with anyone but you. You're everything and all to me, my whole world..."
He blushes. The great Duo Maxwell, former God of Death, blushes like a schoolgirl. His smile is one of the most beautiful smiles I've ever seen.
"I love you too," he says. "I love you with all my heart and soul, body and mind. You're everything and all to me too... I don't want to be with anyone else but you."
With that said, he jumps into my arms, the towel falling off his head, and I have a bundle of squirming Duo all over me, kissing me wildly, wrestling me to the ground. He got quite the muscle pack while working and lugging all those car parts and tools around, let me tell you that. That, and I didn't have good footing. Well, whatever. He has all forgotten about dinner, enthusiastically rattling off a guest list that makes me cringe. He's such a handful- but he's my handful, and I groan as he continues to kiss me.
"Duo, Duo!" I finally cry his name to get his attention as he keeps rattling on. His hands have all but torn my shirt off, and the floor is cold.
"What?" he asks, before shifting around in a way that makes me see stars of pleasure. I must know, however...
"That ad... the ad in the agenda..."
"Yeah?"
"That marriage ad... why did you adjust the head of the bride to look like me?"
All I get for an answer is a boisterous laugh, and then I forget, because his hands are all over me, and if there's still a piece of clothing left on my body I can't feel it, as his warm body covers me, holding me close, searching for and wanting that particular union, and I can't do nothing but moan and pant his name, because I want him badly. I want him forever. I want him forever to be mine.