- The Eleventh Encounter -
There was a time, not too long ago, when physical expressions of desires were the daily norm in my life. I remember all the kissing, the hugging, the caressing, the touching, need I go on. And right now, that is all that they are – memories. Ever since Heero and I started our relationship or whatever, I have yet to get physical with him.
Just what was wrong with that picture in the first place? It has been told to me that some people take things slowly in relationships, creeping at a speed that would make rocks grow weary, starting with eye contact and moving on to holding hands by the end of the month. Whoever those people are, I feel for them. Hell, I can empathize with them at this point.
To be fair, I will admit right now that I have not yet made a single move towards Heero. I really cannot say what is keeping me from at least sitting close to him, but every time we see each other, I feel compelled to have distance between us as well as erase it at the same time. It is a strange paradox that I find myself caught in, and I haven’t a clue how to extract myself from this predicament.
Sometimes, I am caught off guard by my sudden urge to just.. be close to him. An inch more to my right, I would think, then I’d be touching his shoulder with mine. A little stretch, I’d plan, then my hand could rest across the back of his chair. Then I come to my senses and mentally yell at myself for having thoughts I have not had since I was in middle school.
I wonder why I am so worried about touching him when I am sure that I want to touch him. Why else would I be frustrated that we haven’t done anything, not even hold hands? Still, there is a tension within me that freezes me every time I try to touch him.
Just what the hell am I so nervous about anyway? This is Heero, someone I think I can safely call my significant other by now. I am absolutely sure he would not rebuff me if I tried to do something physical with him. I am also sure that I would welcome him with open arms had he come jumping into them.
All this to say that I’m not getting any and it is most likely my fault.
Sexual frustration aside, Heero and I were doing great. We spent a lot of time together, sometimes doing exciting things such as playing tennis or basketball, and sometimes doing nice, relaxing things like watching movies and listening to music. Most of all, we talked all the time, finding out little things about each other that endeared our relationship to us more and more.
For example, I had no idea that Heero was a walking compendium of all music ever written. He knew songs I had never heard of in my life, I would sing an obscure line from an obscure song off tune and he would know exactly what it was. I’m beginning to think that I should just make up songs so that he would puzzle and agonize over it for the better part of a week.
Of course, Heero found out about my near obsession with anime. He had barely known of the incredible art form imported from Japan before he was smacked in the head with my passionate hobby. That had led to me accusing him of not being in touch with heritage, he revealed that he was only a quarter Japanese on his father’s side, I admitted to being a complete mix of every European nationality ever, and so forth and so on.
Heero likes things neat, I like things slightly messy. I love to cook and Heero looks at the kitchen as a foreign dimension he has no desire to enter. I think horror movies are stupid, but he looks upon them as a highly entertaining and healthy measure of stress relief. He has a regular work out schedule which explained his gorgeous body and I just tended to burn calories due to my inhuman metabolism. I like the winter except for the cold and he likes the summer except for the humidity.
Yes, we are doing well. We hardly ever have an argument unless I’m in the mood for one and instigate it, but even then, it is a fun time, never intended to be hurtful. We hate discussing politics, so we tend to have serious talks about the world in historical terms, not current media. Best of it all is that no matter what we talk about, what we find out about each other, we never put the other down or disapprove.
Well, except that he’s an avid Lakers fan and I have an unmitigated, god given right to hate that about him. I definitely like him more than I have ever liked anyone, but basketball is basketball. Like has nothing to do with it.
When the month passed and we moved fluidly into the second month of our new relationship, we knew quite a lot about each other , but we had still yet to do anything besides talking. I had to find a way to remedy this situation before Heero and I hit the ripe old age of ninety, still wondering about the mysteries of holding hands while we breathed in and out of our oxygen tanks.
Hence, I decided it was time to call up the troops.
The phone rang several times before the voice mail service came on, urging me to leave a message. However, this was an emergency and I could not wait for them to call back. I called them again and again until finally, it was picked up by a human voice.
At least, I think it was a human voice. I have never heard a human make those types of growling noises before.
“What the hell do you want?”
A small warning and clarification are necessary at this point. When Trowa swears, trouble is nearby and it is after your sorry ass.
“Hey, Trowa, what’s up?”
I try to sound like my normal self, but my voice comes out squeaky. As much as I love Trowa, I can admit to the fact that he can scare me senseless.
“Duo,” he growled once again, “do you have any idea what time it is? Jesus..”
Time? I had not even entered that consideration into the equation. I check my watch and see that it is four in the morning. On a Monday.
No wonder Trowa sounds like he wants to draw and quarter me using the dullest butter knife on earth.
“Oops,” I say, managing to sound very apologetic and contrite, “I’m really sorry.. but this is urgent. Exigent circumstances.”
“Exi.. wha? Duo, are you drunk?”
I forgive Trowa for his wrong assumption for he was still half asleep.
“No. I’m in need of advice. Now.”
“Oh for the love of..” Trowa grumbles, “wait..”
I hear muffled sounds coming across my phone and I know it is Trowa trying to wake Quatre and pawn me off on him. Actually, I really wanted to talk to Quatre anyways because he was a better and nicer person for advice than Trowa. Trowa tended to be a tad blunt sometimes and I am feeling rather sensitive right now.
Eventually, Quatre’s voice came through the phone in a bleary but friendly hello. I could still hear Trowa in the background mumbling about inconsiderate friends who were insomniac blood sucking creatures of the night. I assume that he meant me.
“Quat, dire emergency has come to my attention.”
“What is it?”
Quatre sounds like he is speaking through water, but he’s trying his best to cope with my situation. I hope only that he is lucid enough to give me sound advice.
“I..” I begin, not quite knowing how to say what was wrong, “I.. may have a problem.”
“What is it?”
Swallowing, I decide to throw my problem out into the open and see what Quatre could construe.
“I haven’t kissed him yet.”
A small pause followed my declaration.
“What was that?”
“Are you even listening, Quat? I haven’t kissed Heero yet. I haven’t even held his hand yet. What is wrong with this picture?”
“Uh,” Quatre replies through his yawn, “you need to make a move?”
Now, what kind of advice was that to a friend who was in severe need of assistance?
“Quatre, I’m being serious here. I really like him, you know? I want to do things with him, to him, whatever. But I haven’t yet. Why do you think that is?”
“You’re an emotional retard who can’t accept intimacy?”
Have you ever had one of those moments in life when you are positive that you may be foaming at the mouth? I believe I am having that moment right now.
At this point in time, I am quickly reevaluating my sense of sanity. Not only have I admitted to Quatre that I have not gotten physical with Heero, but I had actually expected him to tell me what my psychosis was. Instead, I was getting half-assed answers wrapped up in cleverly worded insults at four in the morning before a work day.
“Sorry, Duo,” says Quatre, not sounding sorry at all, “but I can’t think right now. Can we talk tomorrow?”
I do not even say good-bye. That is how offended I am.
When Quatre called me at a decent hour the next day, I denied my entire conversation with him and changed the subject. I could not quite fathom why I had felt the intense need to call my best friend for advice on my non-existent sex life anyway. I never had a problem with my sex life. I never needed advice on my sex life because I was always the expert.
I finally convinced myself by the end of the day that I needed no help. Unfortunately, that sense of self confidence only lasted until Heero came over that night for some quality time.
We were watching television, but I cannot say what channel it was, what program it was, or even if the television was actually on. Heero sat on one end of my couch and I on the other with a whole cushion between us. It was the same as always, both of us keeping our distances while maintaining a nice, comfortable atmosphere.
I was sick and tired of comfortable. I had to take some sort of action.
“Say, Heero,” I say nonchalantly, “you ever wonder why we haven’t.. uh.. well, you know.. shit.”
I grimace, knowing that I butchered the speech I had carefully crafted in my head. What I had meant to say was ‘Heero, we have not yet become physically intimate in any way. Shall we take this opportunity to amend that situation for the better?’
Heero glanced at me, turning his head ninety degrees to get a better view of my rapidly blushing face. Yes, that’s correct, I was blushing. In the space of a minute, I had manage to mangle my fine speech and collect six pints worth of blood onto my face.
“Are you feeling okay, Duo?”
No, I was not feeling okay. I was feeling nervous, restless, hopeful, shy, excited and embarrassed all at the same time.
“I was just wondering,” I manage to choke out, “why we haven’t kissed yet.”
There, my big concern was out for Heero to inspect. I just wished that I could breathe so that I could stay conscious for his answer.
I look at him, ready to tear into him for his non-response when I catch the expression he is wearing on his face. The look he has is somewhere between surprise and a surge of wild hope, a much better response than what he had said.
“I want to kiss you,” I hear myself say, “but I haven’t been able to. So I think it’s up to you to make the first move.”
Heero smiles brilliantly as he moves closer to me.
“I wanted to kiss you since the day I met you,” he says, his voice getting softer with each word, “but I wanted to wait until I was sure you were used to the idea of me.. that way.”
His face is still getting closer and closer until all I can see is the reflection of my face in his blue eyes. I can feel his breath tickling my face, his hair brushing against my forehead. His hands are on my shoulders, neither caressing or staying still, sending shivers down my melting spine.
“I got used to thinking about you like that a while ago..”
His face gets marginally closer and his eyes drift shut half way. I can feel mine doing the same thing as my body relaxes more into his hands. We are so close..
“I didn’t notice. I’m sorry.”
Closer, Heero.. Come just a bit closer..
“Some psychiatrist you are,” I breathe out, “not even picking up hints that big.”
Then there is no more talking because finally, his lips have found mine. My eyes shut all the way, but my mind is blazing with new feelings and information.
His lips are firm, but not hard. Pliant and flexible, but not soft. Slightly moist, so warm, so decadent..
It is not a deep kiss. There is no pressure, no hurry, no violent burst of passion. It is tempered by our tentativeness, our joy at the first touch. It is a muted expression of what is between us, a silent, hushed communion between our bodies.
I have never been kissed like this before. A kiss so chaste yet not, a kiss that stirs my desires but not inflame them.. a kiss so unlike any other that I can’t even begin to describe the feelings running through me.
My first kiss from Heero.. and my first kiss to him. I should have known that it would put all other kisses of my life to shame.
After what seemed to be an eternity, a blink of time, we separate and open our eyes. We don’t speak, we don’t move, we just stare. I can still feel his breath on my face, he is so close. And I finally realize why I hadn’t been able to kiss him for so long.
I had somehow known that kissing him would change my life.
Heero smiles and I know he’s agreeing with me. The kiss had not only changed me, I know it changed him too.
We were falling deeper into each other.
“Not bad for our first kiss.” Heero says, his eyes so soft that all the shades of blues in his eyes are melting into one, heated color.
“We should do it again,” I suggest a bit too quickly, “you know, to see if it was a quirk.”
“You’re right,” Heero replies, “it is vital that we know for sure.”
And this time, I lean into him. Our lips touch again and I’m overwhelmed into speechlessness. Thought becomes hazy and all I know is that I like this feeling. I like kissing Heero. No. More than that.
I might as well as admit it.. I’m beginning to fall in love with him.
My only wish is that it won’t hurt me.