Today is the day. Thatís right, no more putting it
off for a distant future date. I am going to make
sure it happens today. For sure, today is the first
day in what I hope to be many in teaching Heero Yuy
one of the many joys and blunders of ordinary life.
Iím going to teach my lover how to cook. And yes, I
know how to cook in case you were wondering.
Many people have that huge misconception about me.
They are convinced that I canít cook worth crap just
because I happened to have lived on the streets for a
time when I was young. Not true, though. I, Duo
Maxwell the ex-street wanderer, am a master culinary
artisan. I am the fucking master of the kitchen, the
stove and the wicked looking Ginsa knives.
But enough about me and my extreme talents in the
kitchen. Today is Heeroís day of learning. Iím going
to teach him that he can use the kitchen for other
things than making nitro based explosives, that he can
produce food, real, edible kind, from these
surroundings. So I set up the kitchen with various
ingredients and spices for the recipe I have in mind.
I look over at the stuff laid out on the kitchen
counter and mentally go over the list to see if Iím
missing anything. One green pepper, check. It is
nice and plump, fresh and glistening with water beads.
Thatís good since I do not approve of limp anything,
even in something as trivial as a vegetable. The red,
yellow and jalapeno peppers are also in excellent,
non-droopy condition as are the Vidalia onion and the
garlic. The ground beef is also healthy looking and
has none of those nasty brown spots. And of course I
have all the things that come in the cans laid out,
too. Thatís right, the kidney beans, the corn, the
Heero will be happy to know that weíll be making my
world famous chili.
Okay, not that famous, but it certainly is good, so
So I sit impatiently and wait for Heero to get home
from work. And donít you be wondering why Iím not at
work! I am a freelance security consultant, so I can
set my own hours unlike Mr.
Nine-to-five-on-a-good-day-Preventer-Yuy. Eck, that
one certainly is a hell of a long title for someone.
Eventually, which happens to be like fifteen minutes
but Iím impatient so sue me, Heero does come home. He
opens the door to our lovely apartment and steps in,
his eyes automatically searching for me. He does love
me, you know? When his eyes find me, they light up
and he waves hello. Heís so cute when he does that.
I scamper to him and I pull him excitedly into the
kitchen, not even letting him take off his work
clothes in my haste to begin the lesson. He follows
with this bemused expression on his face, his right
hand in my eager ones and his left one still holding
onto his briefcase. Iím not the most patient of
people, I know.
In the kitchen, I babble out the plan about teaching
him how to cook my chili and wave my arms over the
ingredients to show him that Iím serious. Heero
smiles at me and my excitement, drops his briefcase
next to the kitchen counter and washes his hands.
Heís not saying much, but he seems happy to be here
Soon, weíre standing at the counter, staring at the
veggies and other things. I hand him a chefís knife,
you know, the big ass knife, and I tell him to chop
the veggies. He looks at me with a vaguely puzzled
look on his face at my instructions. When I wave him
on, he shakes his head slightly and picks up the green
He studies it, like he was looking for a tactical
advantage. Yeah, thatís my Heero. He has to see if
the pepper has a weak spot before he starts massacring
it with the chefís knife. I wait for him to finish
analyzing the green veggie, knowing that rushing him
would not do any good. Heíll chop when heís good and
Finally, it seems that the pepper has passed his
inspection because he puts it down on the chopping
board. I watch him closely, ready to jump in with
instructions. Then to my surprise, he takes the
chefís knife in his right hand and just.. well,
whacks at it. I donít really know how else to say it
except that Heero whacked at it. He brought his arm
down, from the shoulders to get the maximum strength
and momentum and just killed the pepper.
The poor, dead veggie bounced from the impact, I swear
to god, just like I did. When the deed was done,
Heero looks at me with questioning eyes, asking me
silently if I approved. I donít get it. I asked him
to chop it, but that was not what I meant! I mean,
there is a method to chopping a pepper and it
certainly does not begin with a solid whack that
leaves indentations in the cutting board.
I guess I have to teach him from the ground up.
I take the knife from him and show him the art behind
chopping veggies. He stares at my hands and the work
they are doing intently, most likely cataloguing all
my moves in his brain for future reference. I show
him that the white, seedy part of the pepper should be
removed before the hacking begins and I proceed to
chop in long strips. He nods and continues to watch
me. Heís so adorable when he concentrates.
After I show him the art of chopping the pepper, I
carefully instruct him to do the same to the red and
the yellow one. He mimics my movements perfectly and
the peppers are chopped no problem. I got to hand it
to my man, he does know how to use a knife. All those
years as a deadly terrorist does come in handy in the
kitchen, you know?
Voila, the peppers are chopped and ready to go! And
it took Heero no time at all. Iím very proud of my
capable lover at this moment. So proud that I give
him the honor of chopping the onions.
Okay, so Iím trying to avoid the teary mess onions
make out of my eyes by passing it off to Heero. Iím a
selfish bastard, so back off.
Anyway, he gets to chopping and I see that heís not
too good at it either. Heís really laying into it,
giving the words coarsely chopped a whole new meaning.
He may have mastered the peppers, but onions are
certainly out of his realm of experience. But being
the selfish bastard that I am, I canít bring myself to
show him how to do it. I really hate chopping onions.
And since itís going into a big pot to become a part
of something else, why should I be picky about how it
I donít. Heero can kill the onion if he wants. Iím
just a stickler for cutting peppers, not the evil tear
Watching him cut up the garlic is almost too comedic.
I asked him to mince and boy, is he taking me
seriously. Heís actually taking up the individual
slivers he cut and carefully and tactically cutting
them smaller. Damn, heís got patience. And
concentration. Not to mention some steady hands!
When he finished cutting up the veggies, I realize
that this whole process has taken forty five minutes
longer than it should have. But I donít mind because
I really enjoyed watching my lover cut up the veggies
with dedication. And he really enjoys it when I enjoy
him. Make sense? No? Well, figure it out. I am not
explaining it to you.
Now then, letís move onto the actual cooking. I set
the pot on the gas range and set the heat to medium,
explaining to Heero that this is the best temperature
for cooking meet without losing the flavor. He nods
again and I know that he has already filed that piece
of info into his neatly arranged brain. And then I
instruct him to pour some olive oil and the minced to
death garlic into the pot. He does it, ever so
carefully, not leaving even a hint of garlic on the
cutting board. He is precise, isnít he?
When the garlic toasts and simmers, I put in the
ground beef and tell him to make sure the meat cooks
thoroughly and evenly. He takes the wooden spoon and
follows my instructions to the tee. He still has some
of that soldier instinct left in him I guess. Well,
itís working out for the best in this case, so Iím not
going to complain.
Iím getting hungry and the chili is going to take yet
another good hour to finish if Iím lucky.
I tell him to put in the spices, giving him a general
idea of how much I wanted. A pinch, a dash, a swish.
Whatever. But he looks at me with that adorable
confusion again. He demands to know exactly how much
a pinch, a dash, a swish is. Is it one half a
teaspoon? One eighth? One tenth? What?
I try my best to hold back my laughter, but the little
fucker gets out. Thatís right. I laugh and get the
glare from Heero for the first time in the longest
time. Heís so serious about this! When I donít stop
laughing, Heero taps the wooden spoon against the side
of the pot steadily, waiting for me to catch my breath
and regain my sanity.
Heís very patient, you know that?
I do stop laughing soon enough and say to my miffed
love that spices isnít about the exact measure, but
about the feel. Itís about instinct, taste, a strange
sixth sense kind of thing. He listens closely,
ponders the words, then nods. I almost cringe. I
know that nod, that look.
I hope my body is ready for the madness Iím going to
inflict on it when I eat.
True to my predictions, my Heero douses the meat in
spices. I can feel my eyes water watching him pour
pounds of chili powder, cayenne pepper and other
unimaginably spicy shit into the pot.
I asked for it, didnít I.
I just hope adding the crushed tomatoes and kidney
beans will lessen the pain.
Soon enough, the chili is boiling happily and Heero
dips the wooden spoon into the red and scooped out
some chili. He tastes, nods once, and then shoves the
spoon to my face. I look at it apprehensively, almost
fearing the taste. But Heeroís looking at me with
those eyes, telling me to taste what he has cooked up
as per my instructions. I canít refuse.
I resign my taste buds to a cheerfully burning hell
It takes all my willpower and pain tolerance learned
in the wars not to scream like a little girl and make
a run for the water faucet. If I ever doubted Heeroís
level of pain tolerance before, I can tell you itís
long put to rest now.
I somehow manage to smile at him approvingly. There
is no way in hell Iím going to hurt his feelings by
telling him that his chili tastes like Danteís ninth
circle of hell. No, not me.
Smiling broadly, Heero ladles himself and me each a
bowl of the unearthly chili and carries them over to
the table. He looks really happy and tells me that he
was glad that I liked his first cooking endeavor. He
sets down the bowls and beckons me over to come and
eat his first culinary triumph with him. What can I
say when my heartís desire is looking at me with that
lovely light shining out of his eyes?
So I walk to the table, sit next to my lover and start
spooning the chili into my mouth. I honestly donít
know how Heero is eating this with such a calm face
and steady hands. Iím nearly dead, sweating profusely
to boot. Man, the shit I do for love..
Next time I teach Heero something from the ordinary
life, it wonít be cooking.
Heís learning laundry.
With his own clothes.