An Elusive Quality

Dearka parked the car beneath a tree in an anonymous street a couple of blocks from the Joule mansion. The whole of this suburb consisted of large houses set in lawn, with big railed fences and mature trees, giving the streets a graceful park-like appearance in the dusk. Dearka was in no mood to appreciate it. He sat behind the wheel feeling slightly sick. It had been a near-miss back at the main road turn-off; one moment the way was clear and then there was this woman with a child in a stroller, stepping right out in front of him…

He'd managed to avoid them; could still see the woman's white frozen face as he swerved around….He'd carried on for a couple of streets and stopped here to recover.

Geez, I'm slowing up. 22 years old and I can't even cope with pedestrians anymore. I'd probably kill myself in a mobile suit these days…. Of course the shitty day of ZAFT-bureaucracy-run-mad, the missed lunch, the headache he'd had all afternoon, probably didn't help. And now he had a dinner date with Yzak to cope with…

The thought spurred him into action. He dug around in the side pocket of the seat for a can of coke and some pain killers he kept with other useful/less bits and pieces there.

He washed the capsules down with the revoltingly warm coke and leaned back against the headrest. He had to pull himself together to be in a fit state to have dinner with Yzak. It was no good going there and saying what a lousy day he'd had and expecting sympathy. It would just stir Yzak's competitive instincts; he'd go into a long rave about how much worse his day had been than Dearka's could possibly have been….

Sometimes, Dearka thought, a little sympathy, a little…tenderness…from Yzak would be so good to have…But tenderness is an elusive quality. And sometimes it's just not there for a person to give…

Dearka had told himself this on many previous occasions. Yzak's was not a…soft… personality. He just didn't have it in him to show tenderness. He was even a bit grudging about accepting it from Dearka sometimes; he certainly didn't have the capacity to give it.

He could be kind in practical ways, preferably secretly, or at least so long as it was never acknowledged by a word or look on Dearka's part. Yzak seemed to feel any acknowledgement was tantamount to an accusation of personal weakness on his part. He got very hostile over it. Dearka rubbed his closed eyes and smiled at the memories.

It had been like that as far back as he could recall. Even when they were kids and he started to go over to Yzak's house after school in the early days of their friendship. The housekeeper always seemed to make the kind of cookies and snacks that Dearka particularly liked. It wasn't till years later that a chance remark from the cook at the Elsman residence revealed that Yzak had pestered his mother's housekeeper to secretly get all the recipes for Dearka's favourite foods from the Elsman's cook. That was Yzak at seven, and he hadn't changed down the years. Well, not in this, anyway.

Hell, he'd had his life saved by Yzak more than once, and hadn't dared to thank him, even then.

As a lover, Yzak could be gentle and considerate, but that was sex, not quite the same emotional territory, Dearka told himself. Any platonic cuddling or comforting that took place between them had to be initiated by Dearka, though Yzak usually responded positively to it, and hugged Dearka back, or whatever. It would just be so nice to be purely on the receiving end, for a change….

Dearka clamped down on the wistful thought. There was nothing fundamentally wrong with their relationship; they loved one another, and it was probably being disloyal to Yzak to even think this! He checked his watch. Damn, he had to get going…

A few minutes later he identified himself at the electronic security gate and drove up the Joule mansion's long gravel drive. He knew Yzak would be waiting for him just inside the door, like always. He squared his shoulders, pasted a happy smile on his face and took the stone stairs two at a time. The door swung open as he got there to reveal Yzak standing in familiar pose with hands on hips. "You're late! What the hell kept you?"

"Traffic, Yzak. It's murder out there!"

"Hmmph! Well, you're lucky I didn't put anything on to heat yet, so nothing's spoiled. I've opened the wine and it should have breathed by now. It's a new red from Junius 9."

Dearka didn't think wine on top of coke and painkiller was a good idea. "Uh, sorry, Yzak. I don't think I could stomach wine, tonight."

Yzak frowned. "Well, thanks!" Sarcasm was heavy in his voice. "You've got a really good opinion of my taste in wine if you feel you have to have a strong stomach to cope with it!"

He turned, and stalked off towards the kitchens that lay at the back of the palatial residence. Dearka followed slowly and morosely. How had he managed to get himself in trouble so damn quickly? He'd hardly got in the door!

He found Yzak in the large gleaming kitchen, vigorously banging around various dishes and covered bowls. Since he was not being sent on lengthy space missions these days, he'd taken up residence with his mother again. She'd accordingly hired a cook-housekeeper who was very good at the cooking part of her job. She was particularly skilled at preparing delicious food suitable for heating up later. Dearka had had many enjoyable meals at the Joule residence with just him and Yzak, Ezalia usually being out at one of the many art or charity functions that occupied her time these days. Yzak always gave all the servants the night off on these occasions, too.

They usually ate here at the shiny kitchen table, then piled the dirty dishes in the machine and wandered off to entertain themselves in Yzak's room. Dearka actually had a room of his own; he stayed the night so often. He kept some changes of clothes, uniforms, a few books there. He tried not to let too much of his stuff drift over from his own little apartment in the city, though. He wanted to keep his slightly threatened independence. Being round Yzak was like being a moon circling a heavy gravity planet: it was important to resist the gravitational pull in order to maintain orbit.

Dearka sat himself down at the table where Yzak had already partially laid places. A wave of tiredness came over him and he let his head drop forward, eyes shut, rubbing the back of his sore neck. There was a 'plink' noise just in front of his nose. His eyes opened on Yzak's hand withdrawing from view, having placed right in front of him a wine glass of… was it water?

"Try that," said Yzak quietly. "It's French mineral water. Mother had some imported from Earth for one of her charity galas. I'm sure the guzzling hoards won't miss a bottle."

Anything bulky like liquid was hideously expensive to ship up out of Earth's gravity well. The water in front of him was probably far more expensive than any champagne produced by the agricultural PLANTs, even from the so-called vintage regions.

Dearka looked at Yzak in puzzlement. One minute he was being told off for not wanting wine, then suddenly he was being given the finest alternative the Joule mansion had to offer. It didn't add up. "Uh, thanks, Yzak." He gave it a tentative taste while Yzak watched. "Tastes good. Uh, very…." He couldn't think of a word to call it. It tasted like water, what the hell.

Yzak smiled sardonically, as if he could read Dearka's mind. "I didn't think it had much taste myself when I tried some. But I'm sure it will be better for you than alcohol. How many, Dearka?"

"Huh? How many what?"

"How many painkillers did you take? I can read the body language, and 'no wine' just confirms it."

Dearka felt a bit defensive. "It's just a headache, Yzak. Soon be gone."

Yzak looked at him through narrowed eyes. "No, there's something else…Well, we'll talk about it after dinner." He seemed to dismiss the subject from his thoughts, for which Dearka was very grateful. He was feeling a bit unsettled. Yzak was not behaving like himself here. What was going on?

He watched Yzak place the various covered dishes in the oven to heat, and lay out the rest of the table setting, with condiments, and all the rest. A savoury smell began to invade the kitchen. Dearka's stomach rumbled and he tried to placate it with some more of the water.

Yzak nodded in satisfaction. "Won't be long till the food's heated, and everything else is ready, so there's just a useful amount of time," he said, walking around behind Dearka.

Bewildered, Dearka twisted round in his chair to see what Yzak was up to. "Useful amount of time for what, Yzak?

"For this."

Dearka felt Yzak's hands grip his shoulders and press him into leaning forward on the table. Then the hands started to rub his tired muscles…

Dearka was stunned. "Yzak, what are you doing?"

"I'm giving you a back rub, can't you tell? Fuck, how many pills did you take, anyway?"

"I'm not tanked on painkillers, Yzak. Just surprised is all….Ahhhhh!" Yzak's steely fingers had found a particularly tight knot to work on. "I didn't think you knew how to give a back rub, Yzak."

"How hard could it be? You know how to do it!" the unseen Yzak responded sarcastically, but in a mild way. "I could do a better job if you took this bloody jacket off, too."

He helped Dearka out of it and continued with his ministrations. Dearka gave up questions, gave up thinking, and just luxuriated in the unique experience. When the timer on the oven announced that the food was ready he had to stifle the plea that rose in his throat for Yzak to continue. It felt so good…

But the hands had stopped their movement; were back where they started, just gripping his shoulders, as he lay with his face on his arms.

Yzak's voice was oddly hesitant. "After dinner, if you still want a backrub, I'll do a second round of it… if you want."

And then Dearka felt Yzak bend above him; he felt the fleeting touch of warm lips on the back of his neck, just below the hairline. He felt a warm tingle of pleasure down his spine.

He sat up and twisted round to gaze at Yzak looking down at him with a strangely gentle expression on his face. "I'd like that, Yzak" he said huskily.

Yzak suddenly looked very uncomfortable, no longer quite meeting Dearka's gaze. He nodded briskly, all 'Commander' now. "Right! That's scheduled then. But right now we should eat." And hurried to take the food from the oven and dish it up onto their plates while a still slightly-dazed Dearka watched.

Maybe Yzak has it in him after all…