On Boyfriends

18th September 2005

Author's Note: My many apologies for the long wait - I was kinda stuck for inspiration, really. If you're still around, thank you so much! It might be a while before the next update, though, because my exams are coming up. The mugging comes fast and furious and writing this was really quite a stress reliever, so I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I did! Thank you!

Disclaimer: SEED, SEED DESTINY not mine. And etc. I might never get over the heartbreak, but I'm moving on...

The political system around here is beginning to heat up – there've been a bunch of broadcasts made by the false Lacus – what was her name again? Meer, Mia... it was easier when I just thought of her as 'the slut' and of Dullindal as 'her pimp', but that's not the point, is it now. The point is that she's been busy crapping about how Dullindal is right and all...

Please. She is the living (probably not for long, though, if I know anything about how politics work) evidence that he is so far past wrong they probably call it deluded. Lacus and the others are worrying like hell – thank god I'm just a simple communications officer. It certainly gives me more time to muse on how Dearka and Yzak are taking Dullindal's 'Kill Logos! Kill them all to bits! I are King of the World!' speeches.

And speaking of those two... Yzak is wonderfully gay, really. Only gay men say that wearing pink is a confirmation of how secure they are in their heterosexuality. (Excuse me while I go cough up blood and guts.) Just like how Kira Yamato insists that wearing buckles and straps and chokers is not an indication of his bondage fetish. Yzak looks good in pink, there's no denying it, but it doesn't help quash paparazzi rumours any.

(As a side note, every tabloid reporter I ever knew insists that Dearka's the one on the bottom. They just can't see that standing behind every domineering Commander is the guy who's secretly screwing him into absolute submission.)

But if we're talking about fashion sense... guys are just plain weird. I'd been meeting Dearka for a while, lunch, dinner, chats, a drink, things like that... it was about the fith pseudo-date that he turned up wearing the same thing he'd worn on the fourth. Albert Einstein may have owned seven white shirts with black pants so he never had to think too much about clothes, but if you ask me, Albert Einstein was a total fuddy-duddy.

It went something like this, really...

'Miri? Why are you looking at me like that?' (With the unspoken implication of looking at me like I just told you I had a fantasy involving the Chairman and an electric blue dildo.)

'Dearka... did you even wash that?' Please picture me, with this I-am-very-afraid look on my face, pointing one trembling finger (not that finger, there were little children around) at his shirt.

'This?' He had the gall to pluck at his shirt and look puzzled. Clueless. 'Yeah, why?'

I breathed a sigh of relief. It's easier to eat lunch when you realize the person sitting across from you isn't wearing a three-day old shirt. (Worse, it probably had Yzak-cooties on it.) 'Dearka, you were wearing that shirt three days ago. That's why.'

'This happens to be one of my favourite shirts, Miri.' I sighed. Dearka has always been thoroughly casual about what he wears – the shirt in question was a white button-down. I give him credit, he knows what to wear to set his colouring off, but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.

'Dearka. I know it looks good, but seriously, it doesn't leave a good impression when you wear the same thing twice in the row so close together, you know?' Congratulations, Miriallia, you're a mother at the age of eighteen, to a baby your age. 'Don't you have anything else that's nice to wear?'

'Not really.' At this point in time, Miriallia Haww makes a firm resolution that she will never have kids if they are anywhere near this retarded.

'It's time you got some, then,' I said with an air of (pretty desperate) finality. 'I know you're in uniform most of the time, but seriously, when was the last time you went shopping?'

'With Yzak, I guess.' You see what I mean.

'That tears it, we're going now, Dearka.'

'Uh, Miri... Yzak's kind of... expecting me...' You see what I mean.

'He can do without your scintillating company for a while. We're going shopping. Be a dutiful boyfriend, come along and carry my packages.'

Very few people can really argue with me when I'm determined to get them to do something. So that was essentially how Yzak ended up being deprived of Dearka's scintillating company for a couple of hours – he threw a bitch fit later, or so I heard, and didn't even understand why he was throwing one, who said Coordinators are supposed to be smarter? – and we ended up in a shopping mall, browsing racks and racks of clothes.

'Miri? Can we please not do this?' Dearka was looking distinctly uncomfortable, looking around at the milling crowds of women, some of which were schoolgirls pointing at him and giggling. 'I've never really done this before.'

'You've been around with Yzak, haven't you?' I asked, flipping through the hangers even as he fidgeted beside me. 'Besides, they're still young. Let them enjoy such a fine specimen of manhood as yourself, they may never have the chance to again.'

'Miri... you're kidding, right?' he voice was faintly scared, especially since he was wearing such a kicked-puppy expression, that kind of look that says what-have-I-done-to-deserve-this. It would have been terrible of me to laugh at him, so instead, I said, 'What makes you think I'm joking?'

He gulped and gazed at the Giggle Group (ooh, alliteration) with a faintly hunted expression. I laughed anyway. 'Seriously, Dearka, you have no idea of how to handle women. What size are you?'

'Uh...'

'Never mind, you look like size eight. How about this one?' I asked, grabbing a T-shirt off the rack and holding it up to him. 'Go try.'

'I don't think-'

'Dearka, don't argue with me?' I sighed, pushing him towards the changing room. 'Go on. Shoo.' Maybe this is what Lacus feels like when she goes shopping with Kira.

He came out, looking thoroughly bemused. I'd always thought that the malls were decidedly not a male's natural environment, less so for a guy like Dearka, who's in uniform half the time and more. Of course, circumstances change, as I found out later...

I regarded him for a moment, then smiled. 'This looks fine, it'll be good for warm weather. Go and change out of it, and then we'll move on.'

While he disappeared a second time, a salesgirl approached. 'May I help you, ma'am?'

'Oh, not really, just waiting for someone.' I gestured at the door.

'Yes, I saw. I know him, he's Dearka Elthman, isn't he? He comes here with Mr. Jule, sometimes,' she mentioned.

It was then that Dearka exited and saw the salesgirl. 'Hey, Tina,' he exclaimed. 'Still here?'

'Yeah, job prospects haven't gotten any better since the last time,' she sighed, 'What with the war and all, the best I could try for is a military career as a comms officer or something,' she mentioned.

'You shouldn't, really,' I cut in. 'I was a comms officer, it isn't all that great. I know they all say it's safe, but it never really is. Just stay here, civilians have a better chance.'

She gave me an appraising look. 'Thanks...'

'Miriallia, Miriallia Haww. You can call me Miri, though,' I offered.

'I'm Tina,' she answered, smiling. 'Speaking of which, Mr. Elthman, there're a couple of things that might suit Mr. Jule over there. Would you want to take a look?'

'Sure!' Whoa, sudden three sixty mood swing there. 'Where?' So much for 'I've never really done this before'. You really could've fooled me for a moment there, Dearka.

'Over there. If you would follow me...' and suddenly the roles have been reversed, and it's Miriallia Haww trailing along behind Dearka Elthman, who's browsing the shirts (pink, baby blue, lavender, light grey, pastel, pastel, pastel) with Tina. Miriallia Haww doesn't mind, though, it is a very good chance to make hilarious observations that can be immortalized in memory and laughed at again and again.

'What do you think of this one?' Tina asked him, pointing out the purple one. Dearka regarded it for a moment, then shook his head decisively. (I rather imagine that's the tone he uses when he goes dominant on Yzak. Probably turns the Commander on no end.) 'No, the blue one will go better with his eyes. And besides, Yzak is no fan of purple.'

'You're the boss,' Tina said amusedly, smiling as she plucked one from the rack.

'Uh, Tina, size seven, please,' Dearka mentioned, plucking another one from the shelf and handing it to the salesgirl.

It says a lot when you know someone else's size but not your own.

'And do you have that in silk? Yzak has a thing for nice fabrics,' Dearka added as an afterthought, idly flipping through the racks, entirely absorbed in his task even as Tina nodded and bustled off, following slowly behind her.

It also says a lot when you know what're the nice fabrics that someone else likes. (It's also a fact that Yzak gets turned on by leather. Or more precisely, Dearka in leather. I must remember to send them a nice whip for Christmas.)

'If you don't mind, I'll go check out the slacks. Get one of those in the pink and grey shades too, please,' Dearka muttered, heading off in another direction altogether. Tina nodded (Dearka missed the smirk, clueless male) and moved towards the storerooms.

'Why don't you just buy him his boxers while you're at it?' I said, coming up behind him.

'Yzak is more a briefs person,' Dearka said nonchalantly.

I choked. Shirts I can believe, slacks I can believe, but this bloody takes the cake.

But Miriallia Haww is a wise person. She says nothing, but immediately changes the topic with great skill. What kind of underwear Yzak likes is way too much information for this girl. Insert suppressed shudder here. 'You might have a better wardrobe if you shopped for yourself with as much alacrity as you did for Yzak.'

Dearka eyed me with a what-are-you-talking-about expression. I sighed and patted him on the arm. 'Never mind.'

I'll be fair to the guy and say that he did accompany me while I shopped for myself, but he was nowhere near as attentive, and he'd gone right back to distracted!Dearka, along with a dash of what-am-I-doing-again?Dearka.

I rather gathered from Dearka that Yzak threw a tantrum for the millionth and second time when he found out that he'd been shopping with me, but was amply placated when he found out Dearka had bought him shirts.

Gay doesn't get any gayer.

(And for all you screaming fangirls out there, Yzak likes black briefs. Though credible sources tell me he has a lacy pink G-string tucked away in the back of his closet.)

Yours in pain, horror and information overload, Miriallia Haww.

Author's Note: As usual - if you liked it, review, and tell me what I can do to improve!