disclaimer: i don't have any rights to gw except my first amendment fair use right.

pairings: 3x4 established, working on that 1x2
genre: AU, ordinary life, stuff like so
warnings: none so far.. 'cept i wrote in first person POV and Duo is.. an attorney (hides)

Part 1
by 0083

I am an appreciator of fine women and fine wines. I love them mellow and dark, beautiful and sultry, golden and sparkling. In laymenís terms, I am a player. The word itself comes with a whole slew of connotations, mostly negative, but I cannot deny what I am. I am quite famous for sleeping around among my friends, flitting from one lady to another without nary a thought to calling them afterwards. Of course, Iím that way with my wines as well, tasting and enjoying but never finishing the bottle.

My best friend Quatre commented to me on one particular day that perhaps Iím looking for something in my endeavors. He hinted quite unsubtly that I must be looking for that someone who would fulfill my life in every way. I told him that he was being delusional and that I had no plans whatsoever to settle down with one person for the rest of my natural life.

I realize Quatre means well, he always has, but he seems rather fixated on me getting myself into a Ďrealí relationship with someone. I think it has something to do with his unholy bliss with his current boyfriend Trowa. Granted, Trowa is a great guy who treats my best friend like the most special guy on earth, which he is by the way, and Iíve never seen Quatre happier. Things like that work for some people. Iím just not one of them.

I know my friends fret and worry because they love me. They worry that I drink a little too much when we go out and start flirting with girls. They fret when I disappear from the bar because they know Iíve gone home with someone I had just met. But they need not worry for I am an adult, way beyond the age where I have to explain to my friends that Iím going home with someone. They worry, they fret, but in the end, there is no censure and for that, Iím eternally grateful to them.

Iím not unhappy nor am I in the throes of ecstasy. Yet, I like the way I live, the way I interact with people. There are those who call me unpleasant names, mostly girls who I forget to call after a night of naked hormonal release, but overall, Iím well liked and Iím friendly. I work hard at my job, excel quite well within my department, have a lively social life and friends who would lay down their bare bodies in front of a moving truck if I asked it of them. There isnít much more in life that I really want.

That was the truth for a long time and it still should be, but I surprise myself sometimes. Incredibly, as I was driving down a highway on my way to shop for some much wanted computer parts with Quatre, I blurted out something that I still canít figure out.

I told Quatre in a mild tone that I wanted to be special.

He puzzled over that for a moment, his aqua eyes looking over at my profile with a speculative gleam. He asked me if that meant I wanted to find someone with whom I wanted a relationship. There was a silly amount of hope in his voice so I merely shrugged and let it drop. Thankfully, he did not question me further and we went on our shopping spree without any more words on that weird topic.

Later though, when I was by myself and could think on it without being discovered, I realized that what I said had not been wrong or odd at all. Without realizing, I had wanted something more than what I had now. I can get any girl at any time and that is the truth without conceit. My body is what girls term as Ďincredibly hotí and my violet eyes seem to draw them in like flies. They love my long hair, cooing over it and stroking it, amazed by the fact that itís longer than theirs by far. I have received compliments about my hair from girls that ranged from flattering to downright embarrassing, but the universal truth of the matter was that they loved it.

My looks never fail to attract the girls on the first glance, but it is my wonderfully flirty personality that keeps them hooked long after Iíve forgotten their names. Iím easy to talk to, my personality is just outrageous enough to intrigue rather than scare, I can talk about most anything since my brain runs at a phenomenal pace and Iím generally nice. Itís no wonder than women are so damned easy for me and I can have my pick of them even if I leave them as soon as Iím done screwing them through the mattress.

So isnít it a surprise that a boy like me wants to be special?

Now, what do I mean by that? Well, I guess I want to be someoneís number one. Not just an attractive guy you can fuck, not just a guy you can talk to, but a special someone who makes your heart do the Irish jig on double time. I donít mean the way your heart flutters when you see someone really hot or when a girl you had a crush on for years starts talking to you. No, what I mean is the kind that happens each and every time you see that person, without fail, for a long time. Maybe even forever.

More than that, I want someone to be special to me. I want someone I can look at in the morning and smile gently. I want to appreciate their strengths and help them through their weaknesses.

I want the whole package that Quatre keeps talking about. I want the thing that he has with Trowa, perhaps without all the sweetness, but still, I want something like that.

I want to be special.

What that is exactly, I still donít know, but I do have a general idea of it.

To whom, I just donít know yet.

So it is with this in mind that I, Duo Maxwell the self proclaimed player, will go forth in search to be special.

on to part 2

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