A Small Piece of Heaven - Part 21

:::Late January:::

"Evans," the duke asked, as he turned toward his butler. "Do you have any idea where Milliardo and Wufei are?"

He hadn't seen his slaves since the three of them had eaten lunch together, a good twenty minutes earlier.

"As far as I know they went outside, Sir." the gray-haired man answered. "I would be careful though opening that door if I was you?"

The warning came too late. Treize had already stepped outside. "Careful of what?" he asked.

The last word had barely escaped his lips when he was hit in the face by something very cold and wet. More snowballs followed instantly. Treize raised his arm to protect himself from the flying projectiles. He had no choice but to retreated back into the house and slam the door closed.

"You can't say I didn't try to warn you, your Excellency," Evans chuckled, while Treize tried to shake snow and ice out of his hair.

From outside, where the two slaves were celebrating their victory, they could hear snickering and laughter.

You think that is amusing? Well, let's see who has the last laugh. With a dark grin on his face Treize headed for the backdoor. Gentlemen, you have picked a fight with the wrong person.

***

Wufei, lying in wait behind a large tree, blew into his stiff hands and cured himself for leaving his gloves inside. In front of him he had a whole arsenal of snowballs just waiting to be flung at the next target. Milliardo was right. This was fun. And seeing his master's face the moment the first snowball had hit him was worth lying out here in the cold.

Wufei raised his head to peek once more at the closed entrance door, then he turned toward Milliardo who had taken cover behind a fountain.

"Where is he?" the youngster mouthed, and the blond shrugged.

I don't believe it. Is he just going to hide inside like a coward?

Some movement to his right caught Wufei's eyes. He turned his head, but it was already too late. Something larger and heavier than him jumped him from behind, and pushed him headfirst into the cold snow. He tried to twist his body around, but Treize got hold of his wrists and pinned them over his head with one hand, while the other hand pushed the boy's face deeper into the snow. Wufei laughed and almost choked on the white powder.

"You still think this is funny?" his master asked teasingly, as he shoved a handful of snow down the Wufei's shirt.

"Help me," the young slave called out to Milliardo, who was just standing there enjoying the show.

"Why should I," the blond laughed. "The two of you seem to be having so much fun."

"Traitor," the boy growled angrily.

"I'll leave you two then."

"Oh no, you won't." Somehow Wufei had managed to free his right hand. "If I have to eat snow, so will you." He grabbed one of Milliardo's ankles and pulled. The blond landed face-first in the snow with an undignified yelp.

"Excellent idea," Treize exchanged an evil grin with Wufei. Together they pinned down Milliardo who was protesting loudly.

"It's really not fair for the two of you to gang up on me, you know."
"Not fair?" Treize snorted. "Ambushing your innocent and unsuspecting master is not fair."

Milliardo grinned. "Unsuspecting maybe, but innocent…"

The ginger-blond man growled and shoved another handful of snow into the younger man's face. "Perhaps this will teach you to be more respectful to your master."

Treize laughed as he and his two slaves wrestled and rolled through the snow until they were out of breath and their cheeks read from the snow. For a brief moment he wondered what people would thing if they saw them acting like a bunch of overgrown children. But then again, he had too much fun to seriously care. He smiled softly, happily as he was lying on his back in the snow, trying to catch his breath. Treize had not felt this carefree for a very long time. Probably not since… since he had left for military school. The death of his parents, his military carrier, the war and all the responsibilities that came with it had forced him to grow up rather sudden. Sometimes people, including himself, forgot how young he still was.

*****

About one hour and a hot shower later the three young men were sitting in the living room sipping hot cocoa.

Milliardo and Treize wore matching white robes. Wufei suspected that the two of them had shared more than just the shower before they had joined him downstairs. Now the blond lay curled up by the fireplace, with his head in his master's lap, like a big, lazy cat. Treize ran his fingers through the still damp, pale-blond hair and Milliardo closed his eyes in delight.

Wufei gazed at them from over the book he was reading.

I wouldn't be surprised if he actually starts to purr.

Are you jealous?

Jealous? Please, why would I be jealous?

Come on, you can't tell me you wouldn't like to be the one playing with Milliardo's hair right now. Or even better, lying there curled up next to him.

I'm perfectly fine with the way things are.

Sure, you just keep telling yourself that…

Wufei almost growled at the little nagging voice deep inside him, knowing that the voice was correct.
When he looked at Treize and Milliardo and saw how happy they were together, it made him want to be part of it. Earlier when the three of them had been playing together, outside in the snow it felt so good. But now he felt shut out again, abandoned. And yes, it bothered him. Maybe jealousy was not the right word for what he was feeling; envy would be more fitting.
The boy shut the book and rose from his chair.

"Where are you going?" Treize wanted to know.

"I'm tired," Wufei lied. "I'm going to take a nap."

The duke watched as he left the room, then let out a sigh. "Something seems to be bothering him. Why is it so hard to get through to him? I wish he would open up a little more."

"Don't worry about it, Master," Milliardo told him. "He will be fine." I'll make sure of that…later

***

"I thought you said you were reading."

"I am."

"No, you are not. You are watching me." Wufei sat in the middle of his bed, cross-legged and with his back toward Milliardo, trying to mediate. The blond slave sat in a chair by the window, pretending to read.

"Stop it or leave my room." Wufei demanded.

"The deal was that I could stay as long as I wouldn't disturb you while you are mediating," Milliardo reminded the black-haired youngster. "And I have not said a single word."

"You are disturbing me by staring at my back."

"Okay, okay," the blond grumbled.

For a few moments everything was quiet then Wufei snapped. "You are still doing it."

"I am not."

"You are too."

"What, do have eyes in the back of you head?" the young man mocked.

"I don't have to. I can feel it," Wufei growled.

Milliardo chuckled. A moment later Wufei could feel the mattress beneath him move, as the blond climbed onto the bed to him.

"Is it my fault that you are so incredible good looking?" He gentle kissed the back of Wufei's neck, sending a shiver down the boy's spine. "It's hard to keep your eyes of somebody as gorgeous as you are, my little Bâo Zhú."

Wufei turned his head, an expression of surprise and slight amusement on his face. "Do you know you just called me your little firecracker?"

"A fitting name, don't you agree?" the blond gave a deep, bubbling laugh.

Wufei's eyes narrowed. "Explain," he demanded.

Another laugh as the fair-haired slave encircled the young slave's waist and pulled him against his body. Wufei didn't resist. "Being with you is like watching a firework," Milliardo whispered softly into the boy's ear. "It's wonderful, breathtaking in its beauty, tranquilizing and exciting at the same time."

Wufei could feel himself blush at those words. "Thanks."

"…and then of course," the blond continued with a playful gleam in his eyes. "You have got to admit that you have a very short fuse and tend to blow up from time to time."

Wufei pulled away with a low growl, obsidian orbs sparkling angrily. "I do not have a short temper," he barked. "And I don't tend to blow up."

Milliardo just smiled softly and gave Wufei a "need I say more" gaze.

The two slaves looked at each other for a long moment then burst into laughter. After they calmed down Wufei settled back into Milliardo's lap and rested his head against the young man's chest. "Where did you lean to speak Chinese?" he wanted to know. "Or are your language skills limited to that one word?" he added teasingly.

"One of my first masters was Chinese. I picked up a few words here and there in the short time I was with him."

There was a somewhat surprised look on Wufei's face. Milliardo snorted. "What? You didn't think only white, European aristocrats own slaves, did you?"

The boy blushed, as he realized that it was exactly what he had thought. Then of course it didn't seem so far fetched. Throughout history upper class families in China had owned servants and slaves. He just had though this to be a thing of the past.

For a while, neither of them spoke a word until Wufei asked quietly, hesitatingly. "How many owners have you had, Milliardo?"

The blond shrugged. "I stopped counting a long time ago." He tried to sound casually, but the hint of bitterness in his voice didn't escape Wufei. "Rich people tend quickly to get tired of pretty things and pleasure slaves are no exception."

There was another moment of silence before Wufei said: "What about Treize? Do you think he will sell us once he gets tired of us?"

Another shrug. "I don't know. I try not to worry about things I don't have control over."

"You really love him don't you?"

Milliardo didn't answer and that in its own was answer enough.

"Have you ever told him?"

The blond snorted sarcastically. "In case you have not noticed, I'm a slave, Wufei. It's not my place to tell my master how I feel about him."

"But you told me yourself Treize is not like other masters. Tell him how you feel; you might be surprised how he reacts."

"Let's drop this, okay." There was a hidden pain in the young man's voice that made Wufei regret instantly that he had ever brought the subject up.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Let's just move on to something else."

"Like what?"

"Like this."

Milliardo cupped the boy's face, dipped his head and kissed him. Lips parted invitingly and he slipped his tongue between them, exploring the hot cavern of the young slave's mouth. He felt Wufei's arms come around him, soft hands stroking his back gently. A shiver of pleasure and happiness ran through Milliardo's body. "This is good" he moaned. "Let's never move."

"All right." Wufei leaned back and pulled the blond down with him. He rested his head on Milliardo's shoulder. Staying right where he was sounded like an excellent idea to him, especially when Milliardo started to run his fingers through his raven hair. "I don't plan to go anywhere," he said.

"Good. I don't plan to let you go." The young man kissed the top of his head.

They lay curled together on the bed as the late afternoon light faded around them. Wufei thought that Milliardo had fallen asleep when the blond spoke.

"I did it once."

"Did what?" the boy asked.

"Told somebody I loved him."

Wufei wasn't sure if he should ask what had happened, but he didn't need to. Milliardo continued on his own.

"I was just 17 and he a few months older. His family had owned me for about three years but it wasn't until that summer that we realized that we were attracted to each other. We spend as much time together as we could and one afternoon in his room, after we had…had sex, I told him that I loved him. He answered that he loved me too…"

Wufei moved his head to look up at Milliardo. The blond was staring straight ahead, but his eyes weren't focused on anything. It seemed as if he was somewhere else at that moment.

"He decided to tell his father about us."

"What happened?" Wufei asked quietly.

"Nothing, at first. His father took it surprisingly well, or so it seemed. The next weekend while his son was out of town he sold me. Before he left me at the auction house he told me not to take it personal. He really liked me and he was sorry that he that to do this, but I had to understand that his first priority was his family. If somebody were to find out that his son was romantically involved with a slave he would become a social outcast and his future would be in stake…Slaves are to be used, Wufei, not to be loved." Milliardo's voice was firm, but underlines with a slight trace of bitterness.

Suddenly Wufei understood. Milliardo was afraid that Treize would react in exactly the same way. Not sure what to say, he just put one arm around the young man and stroke his back comfortingly.