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Duo is sitting on the floor by the fireplace, print outs stacked in careful piles all around him. It's not usual for a digital-age kinda guy like him to have so much paper, but that's what legal cases get you. (It's harder to hack paper.)

He's also eating Meat On A Stick™. It's probably beef teriyaki, if you're feeling generous.

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"How little you know," he sniffs pleasantly.

Though he must admit he does enjoy that: When the rain is coming down outside and he's inside, curled up on Havelock's lap while Havelock reads a good book ...

He does not sigh.

But that is because Duo is watching.

Thaaaat's okay. Duo already sort of guessed.

"You just keep telling yourself that."

"Oh?"

Puck's eyebrows arch, delicately.

"Oh no, Master Maxwell, I pray you enlighten me. What knowledge have you?"

"...do you think I don't know what you're thinking about when you make that face?"

(Puck didn't need to sigh.)

Puck goes :O!

"Master Maxwell, I have no idea what you might mean." A beat. "Are you ill?"

Edited 2010-02-16 06:30 (UTC)

"Not so much as you are, man. I mean, it's not like I want to imagine you canoodling with your boyfriend. But when you make that face it's pretty obvious you are."

Puck's expression is that of instantaneous horror.

WHEN DID DUO LEARN TO READ MINDS.

"What face, pray tell," he says, with frigid scorn, "is that face?"

Duo makes the Puck-thinking-about-Havelock face. It is sappy, faintly lascivious, and totally exaggerated.

Puck stares.

Then he lunges.

"That is a perfectly disgusting fabrication--"

A jellybean, pegged with astonishing accuracy, bounces off the center of Puck's forehead mid-lunge.

(It's popcorn-flavored.)

"Denying factual data is undignified," River informs them both, with placid disregard for the sudden blizzard of Duo's paperwork.

"Ha!" Duo says, seemingly unconcerned with said paperwork because of his triumph. He also seems mostly unconcerned about the fact that Puck is trying to strangle him a little.

"See? River agrees with me. Ow! Leave the hair alone!"

Puck's fingers, meanwhile, continue to scrabble for purchase somewhere in the wilds of Duo's braid.

"She has said no such thing! That maid has faced trials enough without you putting insinuating words into her dear mouth."

He is hoping for River's incoherency rather than her agreement; he suspects she shall stand with Duo strictly on principle, if for no other cause.

Everyone is against him. Except for Havelock!

IS IT ANY WONDER HE LIKES HIM BEST.

Well done, Puck! With two easy sentences, you've doubled the amount of withering look you're getting from River!

"It's okay," she says, very kindly.

"Denial is a natural stage of emotional progress."

Duo can handle this. But Puck gets a few more jellybeans flying at his face as a parting gift.

When River is more ahead of you in complicated emotional progresses, you should know you have a problem! Duo shoves Puck off him.

"I don't think she'd thank you for saying any of that, just so you know."

Pause as he picks shredded paper out of his bangs.

"And I'm still right."

Puck has managed to catch one of the jellybeans this time round, more or less expecting the barrage by now, and he stuffs it irritably into his mouth as he glowers at Duo.

"What precisely is your matter, Duo Maxwell? Speak what you will in all plainness, if you would; I've neither love nor patience for these horrid faces and roundabout whispers of yours."

"Havelock's got you wrapped around his little finger, and you think it's a secret!" J'ACCUSE, PUCK.

Puck gapes.

And stares.

His jaw has dropped, his face turned pale; even his bright eyes seeming to drain of color in their complete and total shock.

"... I am not certain I should call his little finger precisely what I might be wrapped round."

"AHHHHHHH." Duo says, clapping his hands over his ears.

. . .

What a marvelous bit of conversation to overhear.

(Trowa, in lieu of copying the expressive face Duo is making, makes several simultaneous mental notes.)

"How should you know, at any rate?" Puck demands of the traumatized Duo.

"I have scarcely laid eyes upon you at all this past twelvemonth-- how should you know aught of anything pertaining to him or to me? Do tell me, I am quite curious."

"What!" Duo says, prying one hand off one ear despite his subconscious telling him that's a bad idea.

"It's not like I needed to be around this year to know it! I've known you for almost five."

Puck hisses at the word five.

And folds his arms tightly over his chest.

"Which recalls to me," lofty, "just what do you mean, you think it's a secret?"

"It's not like you're keeping it under wraps! Almost everyone who knows the two of you has it figured out, I'd bet."

Duo glances around for someone else who can corroborate this statement.

Say, is that Trowa?

Why so it is!

Also known as emobang Havelock by certain character's narration, apparently. So it's not as if he hasn't picked up on a few subtle clues.

Presumably-Havelock's habit of lurking in shadows and rafters to monitor his presumably-boyfriend's activities was something of a corroborating factor too.

Trowa meets Duo's stare (about two parts pointed to one part greeting) and Puck's (one part challenging, two parts beseeching), considers the known factors, and says mildly, "Were you trying to keep that secret?"

Professional courtesy! If you don't get feedback about your tells, Puck, how will you ever learn to conceal them better?

Puck lets out an irritable snarl.

They're ALL AGAINST HIM.

"I am certainly keeping it no secret that he is my ... what does Lilly call it? 'Sugar daddy.' But aside from that, I hardly see what secret the pair of you may be going on about."

Certainly it couldn't have to do with how Oberon used Havelock against him that one time.

Or how Flagg did.

And Blodwen.

... And Satan.

Er.