Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Beautiful Dawn ❯ Chapter 29 ( Chapter 29 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Michalyn 
After an extremely long wait, here's chapter 29. Only a few more to go now!
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.21.2003 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 940 | Status: Work In Progress
After an extremely long wait, here's chapter 29. Only a few more to go now!
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Hentai / Drama / Romance | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 02.21.2003 | Pages: 4 | Words: 5.5K | Visits: 940 | Status: Work In Progress
I know it's been an extremely long wait and I'm so sorry. I haven't been feeling my best lately and my inspiration seemed to follow. But finally, here it is - chapter 29 and longer than the last. I hope you enjoy it. Thanks so so much to everyone who's stuck with this. You don't know how much I appreciate it.
Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Gundam Wing or its bishounen, nor am I making any monetary profit from this fic whatsoever.
Author: Michalyn (darling_162002@yahoo.com)
Pairings: 6x1, 13+5 ( possible 13x5 later), 3+4
General Warnings: AU ( the pilots are 18, Zechs and Treize are 23) yaoi, angst, sap, lemon
Archive: http://angelfire.com/gundam/asanctuary, http://raygunworks.net, http://www.gundam-wing-universe.net/
Rating: NC 17
Warnings for this chapter: angst: naughty Zechs fantasies, 13x5 limon - and more angst.
Feedback: craved ^_^
Zechs bent low, his powerful thighs gripping the thoroughbred's flanks as horse and rider moved as one over the grassy field. Carefully, the blonde shifted his weight in the saddle, guiding Dancer towards the obstacle with the fluid movements of his body as well as a firm hand on the reins. Sweat trickled down his back, cooling in the faint breeze and Zechs felt the bunching of muscles as Dancer prepared for the jump. Instinctively he adjusted, moving in sync with the mare. Gracefully they arced through the air, clearing the obstacle with beautiful ease and landing neatly on the other side.
They slowed to a walk and Zechs led them over to a shady grove. He dismounted, fondly scratching between Dancer's ears and murmuring soft words of praise as he brought her to the nearby drinking trough. While Dancer eagerly slaked her thirst the blonde sought his own rest under a large, spreading tree, knowing that the docile mare would not run off. Closing his eyes, he reclined against the stout bark, enjoying the soft breeze and the pleasant scratchiness of wood against his back. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal as blessed exhaustion seeped through his limbs.
The aristocrat sighed. He'd gone to the stables just as the first tints of dawn were staining the sky, in the hopes of relieving the *frustrating* effects of an incredibly vivid dream involving himself, Heero and a bottle of chocolate syrup. The image of Heero, arched taut - trembling in passion - golden skin glistening with perspiration, tormented him every time he closed his eyes. Even now, just the remembrance was enough to heat his blood. Zechs groaned, shifting restlessly as familiar fire licked along his veins. It had seemed so real…
He could almost taste the salt of Heero's skin, mingling with the sweet stickiness of chocolate as he lovingly devoured the delicate flesh of his lover's inner thighs. In the fantasy, Heero had been just as wantonly, * achingly * beautiful as he remembered: Leanly muscled and slim hipped, his nude body gleaming in the lamplight - small nipples flushed and erect from careful attentions - and the dark hair against the white pillows echoing the darker, thicker nest at the younger man's groin where Zechs was working his magic. But most beautiful had been the unmistakable happiness in the Asian's eyes. No sadness, just love and need - and an all-consuming passion that knew no bounds.
When he'd reverently cupped Heero's testicles and begun a careful suction on the plump, rosy sacs, a desperate cry had burst from the younger man's lips, his fists twisting convulsively in the sheets as he orgasmed, powerfully and abruptly. Zechs had caressed him, prepared him with slick devilish fingers and by the time he was finished, Heero was flushed and panting, thighs spread eagerly in invitation. Lovingly Zechs had positioned himself at the entrance so sweetly revealed…
And promptly woke up to an empty bed and sweat-tangled sheets. After that, any hopes of sleep were pointless. So he'd gotten dressed and come out here. Needless to say, the aristocrat had not been very successful in forgetting his frustrations. Involuntarily, another groan escaped him.
"Penny for your thoughts."
Zechs' eyes snapped open. He peered up to find Duo looming over him, with a mixture of curiosity and amusement animating his graceful features. Pointedly, the violet gaze traveled from the blonde's groin and back to his face.
"I don't suppose that's for me is it?" the chestnut-haired beauty joked wryly.
Zechs grunted as Duo sat next to him on the grass and folded long, jeans-clad legs beneath him. The brunette eyed him lasciviously. Impulsively, he leaned forward until his breath caressed the sensitive shell of the older man's ear.
"I'd be happy to take care of--" Before the blonde could object, a slender palm slid between his thighs. "- *This*," Duo finished wickedly, kneading the warm bulge beneath his palm with hot, familiar motions.
The shock of it caused air to whoosh out of Zechs' lungs as sharp pleasure rocked through his body. He gasped and shuddered, before his large hand clamped down on Duo's with almost bruising force.
"Duo," he ground out between clenched teeth. "You don't know what you're doing. Stop it."
The younger man sighed and reluctantly withdrew. A spark of pain flashed in his eyes as he regarded his ex-lover. "Let me guess," he asked dully. "You were thinking of * him*".
Zechs ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He was torn between wanting to comfort Duo- and his love for Heero. He knew all too well the talents Duo had to offer, but his hope for a reconcilement with Heero proved stronger.
"I-Yes…"
Duo drew his knees up and hugged them thoughtfully. Finally, a bitter chuckle escaped him. "I should have known…" He shook his head in painful disbelief. "I knew you had it bad--" The brunette paused. "Quatre told me…" His eyes grew distant. "I guess I just didn't want to see how much."
Duo fell silent and Zechs was at a loss for words. He had loved Duo and he didn't think that he would ever truly stop caring for the petite brunette - no matter how many years or miles separated them. So it pained him to see the singer so hurt. Tore at him even more that he was the cause of it. And yet it was Heero he wanted, Heero he loved and still dreamt of every night - not Duo. If there were the tiniest chance of winning Heero's heart again, he would seize it. He couldn't - * wouldn't * - jeopardize that for * anyone*. Not even the man who had once stolen his heart.
Tentatively, Zechs placed a comforting hand on Duo's shoulder. "I'm sorry Kit," he murmured softly, using the old nickname. "You are intelligent and desirable and oh-so - passionate - The blonde smiled as Duo snorted dismissively. "I wish I could be the man for you. But--"
Duo stopped him with an upraised palm. A painful smile touched his lips. "But you love Heero right?"
The aristocrat sighed. He nodded. "I do love him," Zechs admitted quietly. Wistfully he turned to his younger companion. "Two years, a year - gods even six months ago - things would have been different," Zechs murmured. "Nothing would have kept me from you." Meaningfully he looked into Duo's eyes. "There was not a day I didn't think about you, worry about you, wonder what you were up to…" Zechs' chuckled shortly. "Did you know I followed every one of your performances?"
Duo looked at him with surprise. Most of his early performances had been restricted to small, lesser known, stages and events. That Zechs had kept abreast of every one spoke volumes. "You what?" he asked in disbelief. "Most of them were hardly even publicized."
Zechs smiled again as he smoothed a stray strand behind Duo's ear. Deliberately, his palm turned inwards and he caressed the brunette's pale cheek. "Ah, but I knew," the large blonde murmured. "What good is the Peacecraft name if I can't use it to check up on an old friend?" he asked smiling softly. But Duo's heart had already begun to sink at that all-important word: Friend. Not love, or lover.
He could see the truth of Zechs' words in his eyes and Duo ached for lost opportunity - almost cursed Heero for standing in the way of his happiness. But that was not his style. Life tossed you punches and it was useless to whine about it. You won some and you lost some - plain and simple. And though this particular loss was incredibly painful, Duo Maxwell had never been one to "beat a dying horse". For the first time since he'd arrived, the beauty saw the situation clearly. It was over. -Time for him to move on. Heero had nothing to do with this. "What was love if you didn't want to see the one you cared about happy?" Duo reasoned. If Z now saw him as a friend, then he would be that. Violet eyes closed sadly and Duo savored the warmth of Milliardo's palm on his cheek before turning away. The singer feigned nonchalance - hiding tear-bright eyes beneath his long bangs.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. For a moment, Zechs appeared like he wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Finally Duo turned to other man with a brave smile. The weight of loss ached in his chest, but he planted a playful expression firmly on his face as he nudged the tall blonde companionably.
"Sooo," he drawled. "Mind sharing that dream with an old friend?"
~~~~
Quatre headed towards the library, a slim novel tucked neatly under his arm. Much as he treasured Trowa's company, He was hoping for some time alone to think and the library was the best place he could think of to do so. Since he had spoken with Duo, his thoughts had been only of his friend. Assaulted by guilt and sorrow by turns - and totally lost in his own musings, the petite Arabian almost slammed right into Wufei, who, if the book in his hand was any evidence, had been thinking along the same lines as his friend.
The dark-haired youth bowed deferentially. "Forgive me." Wufei apologized. "I did not see you."
Shaking his head, Quatre smiled. "No, no. It was my fault, really. I was a thousand miles away."
"As was I." Wufei inclined his head in acknowledgement. "We were both at fault," he said gracefully. "Think nothing of it." He spotted the book in the smaller blonde's hand and moved as though to retreat. "Please," a golden arm indicated the open library door. "Go ahead. I don't want to disturb."
Quatre forestalled him with a quick gesture. "Please, Wufei I insist. He chuckled somewhat sheepishly as he lifted his book to show his friend. "I don't think I would have gotten much reading done anyway," he revealed with a grin. " Some quiet time was more of what I had in mind." Wufei tried to object, but Quatre quickly prevented him. "*Besides*," he said with emphasis. " There's plenty of room for two." He led the serious Chinese through the double doors and set his book down on the table before turning to face Wufei. "Also I've been meaning to have a nice conversation with you," the Arabian informed his friend with a sunny smile. "It's been far too long."
Wufei paused in the act of sitting. "With me?" he asked in surprise.
Quatre smiled as he took the opposite seat. "Yes, with you," he chided gently. "Is that so surprising?"
Wufei shook his head. He frowned at his rudeness. Though he was not nearly as close to Quatre as he was to Duo, there was a strong, mutual respect between them and they frequently spent time together. But most of these times * had * been in the presence of at least one of the others, so it was something of a surprise to know that Quatre had specifically sought him out.
"Not at all," the scholar amended. "I meant no offense. What would you like to speak of?"
Quatre's smile broadened. "I believe congratulations are in order."
Wufei frowned in confusion. "Congratu-Oh." Self-consciously, he cleared his throat. "Ah-thank you."
The sunny blonde nodded. "I bumped into Treize a few weeks ago," he said, answering Wufei's unspoken question. "And I think it's absolutely wonderful." Quatre beamed. "You and Treize are beautiful together."
Wufei darkened just a shade further under his warm complexion. His lips parted and shut. He wasn't sure what to say.
Quatre tried to put him at ease. "Have you decided on a date yet?"
"No. No," Wufei repeated as he tried to find his voice - all the while cursing Treize's wayward tongue. Why couldn't the bastard have waited so that they could tell their friends together? That way he could have been saved this trouble. The man knew he was terrible at these things!
"We haven't--" Wufei cleared his throat again. "We haven't really discussed it yet."
The young heir nodded. "You must be so excited. If you need any help, Tro and I would be happy to help."
Wufei inclined his head politely. 'Thank you."
Taking pity on the other man, Quatre was just about to ask about Wufei's book when he noticed a ginger head poking through the doorway. Surreptitiously he nodded, letting Treize know that his lover was within. The blonde almost laughed out loud at the mischievous expression that lighted the other man's face and he decided it was best to leave the two men alone. Besides, he reasoned, he could think just as well in the garden as here.
Rising, he turned to Wufei. "I'm sorry to leave so abruptly Wu," but I just remembered something that needs my attention."
Puzzled, Wufei looked up at Quatre's enigmatic words. "Alright," he answered slowly. "We shall speak again?" he asked politely - though in truth it was the last thing he wished for. To his mind, the less said about the matter the better.
Quatre nodded. He grinned as he headed towards the door. "Count on it." The blonde winked at a smiling Treize. With one last look at the seated Chinese, he mouthed the word "enjoy" and disappeared around the corner.
Treize waited until he heard Wufei settle with his book and allowed the beauty a few minutes to become engrossed before stealthily making his approach. Carefully, he slipped behind his lover's chair.
"Miss me?"
Wufei started, rising in a half-crouch from his seat. "What--?" He scowled as Treize came to stand in front of him. "I should have known." Irritably he settled back against the armchair. The Chinese pierced his lover with a glare. "Why did you have to tell Quatre?" he demanded.
The shorthaired man nudged Wufei's thighs open and knelt between them. "Tell Quatre what?" he asked absently, long fingers busy trying to snatch his lover's book away.
Determinedly, Wufei tucked the novel under his arm. His glare intensified. "He said he ran into you a few weeks ago…" The Asian paused significantly.
Treize frowned confusedly. He raised a honeyed brow. "Yes…?"
Wufei made an exasperated sound. "Couldn't you wait to tell him about * us *?"
Understanding dawned and the older man smiled. "So that's what you're rambling about." Lightly he caressed Wufei's thighs. " Dragon, it's been almost a month," he pointed out dryly. "And why shouldn't I want the world to know you're mine, hmm?" Large hands came to rest lightly about the smaller man's waist. " It seems rather silly to be engaged and to keep it to ourselves no?"
Wufei huffed. Treize's words made him feel foolish. So he said nothing. Instead he sighed as his lover leant in to kiss him playfully on the nose.
As Treize was never one to pass up any opportunity to play with his Dragon, he leaned forward and stole another kiss. This time, it was a gentle mating of mouths that left Wufei trembling and the aristocrat yearning for much, much more.
Treize reached out to pluck the book from under Wufei's arm. In doing so, his fingers deliberately brushed the small nipple exposed through the wide armhole of the sleeveless tank the young man wore. It tightened immediately and Treize grinned as Wufei made an annoyed sound and pressed against the back of the chair as he tried to escape the touch. But both nipples were already peaked, their tiny points clearly visible through the thin cotton of Wufei's shirt, betraying his want.
Treize's grin broadened.
The look the petite Chinese shot the aristocrat was positively venomous. "Isn't there something you should be doing * other than * disturbing me? Is the concept of personal space so foreign to you?" he demanded.
Treize pretended to mull over the question. "Well," he said huskily, sapphire eyes locking with ebony. " I * should * be upstairs making love with you." The ginger-haired man savored the breathy gasp that gusted past Wufei's lips. He nibbled seductively on the fleshy lobe of Wufei's right ear. "And I can think of many ways to keep us both occupied, that have everything to do with * personal space *, " he purred, pausing to trace the convolutions of the delicate shell with a hot tongue.
Wufei squirmed and shivered. He clutched helplessly at Treize's shoulders, groaning when the larger man began to describe his intentions in * very* explicit detail. But Treize didn't stop there. The older man bent to rain kisses on Wufei's inner thighs. Teasingly, he mouthed the hot bulge at Wufei's crotch - shaping the growing mound with lips and hands through the baggy folds of the younger man's slacks. When knowing hands shifted even lower, rubbing at soft, sensitive sacs, Wufei gave a startled cry.
Treize pressed his lover backwards. He hooked a hand behind Wufei's right knee, shifting the slender beauty so that his leg was draped over the stuffed arm of the chair. Deftly he undid the Chinese's pants and Wufei made a desperate, mewling sound as he became trapped between velvet cushioning and the palm moving in tight, hot circles over his straining erection. Treize's lips were at his ear, the sensitive curve of his neck, hot breath caressing his skin as the aristocrat murmured soft, searing words of praise. Treize eased Wufei's briefs aside, stretching the damp material to stroke the naked flesh beneath. The Chinese's eyes widened as heat built to a fever pitch within him. He felt a familiar tightening in his groin. Desperately he pushed at Treize's shoulders. "Treize-stop. I'm going to--"
To his utter mortification it was all he was able to gasp out before he climaxed onto Treize's palm with hot silky pulses.
Treize held the younger man's gaze with smoldering eyes. Hectic color flooded Wufei's cheeks as the ginger-haired man slowly and deliberately licked his fingers clean. He rocked back on his heels, chuckling knowingly.
"What?" Wufei snapped He attempted to stand - and grimaced as his underwear stuck to his skin. "Why did you have to do that?"
The older man smiled sensually. His gaze dropped to Wufei's groin before traveling to the scholar's face again. He shrugged easily. "Because you are unbelievably sexy." Treize rose to his feet." And because I enjoy it." he answered simply. The aristocrat dragged a damp finger along Wufei's lush bottom lip. A spark of mischief glinted in his eyes. "Besides, you came so quickly," he whispered huskily. "I think you needed me to."
Wufei jerked backwards, black eyes flashing. "I-I-you-you," he sputtered. Indignantly, he turned away.
Treize burst into full-fledged laughter as he pulled his small beauty into his arms. He kissed the younger man lovingly. "How about a shower and a nap together?" he asked seriously. When the scholar nodded, he tugged Wufei out of the library and towards the stairs. Treize's gaze softened. He caressed the small palm nestled in his own.
"Have I told you how much I love you?"
~~~
Zechs chuckled softly as Duo finished telling his story. They'd spent much of the morning catching up on everything that happened in the two years since Duo had left and Zechs was amazed at how easily their old rapport had returned. He smiled wistfully. Yet so much had changed…
After a few moments Duo said hesitantly. "I met him you know."
Zechs arched a tawny brow. "Him?"
The brunette shot him a sideways glance. "Heero," he answered quietly.
The older man hesitated. Warily he searched the singer's expression. "When?" he asked finally.
Duo sighed as he crossed his arms behind his head. "Yesterday at breakfast." He met Zechs' gaze. "Don't worry, I didn't tell him about us," the brunette dryly assured him.
Milliardo frowned. "I wasn't--"
Duo interrupted him."I know. But you know you're gonna have to, right?"
Zechs nodded. "I will…"
"When? Tomorrow? Next week?" Duo persisted. "He * is * going to find out sooner or later, whether you want to tell him or not," the braided man said bluntly. "It's only a matter of time before he asks Tro or Q about it." Duo shook his head. "And if you're trying to regain his trust, that is that last thing you want to happen."
Zechs clenched his jaw. He knew Duo was right. He had to tell Heero. There really was no getting around it. But yesterday… Yesterday Heero had let him in again - If only a little.
The brunette still felt something for him - he knew it. But dare he risk destroying the only glimmer of hope he'd had in weeks?
As if reading his thoughts Duo frowned. He made a short, disapproving sound. "Don't be an ass. If you ever want to turn that fantasy of yours into a reality you have to be honest with him." Duo's voice lowered, as Quatre's own advice came back to him.
"Then you just have to trust Heero to make the right decision…" He looked away, swallowing the ache in his throat. "Tell him today, Zechs."
Abruptly the younger man stood. "He * is * beautiful Z." Pale fists clenched as Duo half-turned away. Valiantly, the chestnut-haired beauty fought to maintain his control. "What the two of you have is worth saving." He gazed down at Zechs with pain filled eyes. The regret buried in those depths was for his own folly.
"You only find true love once in this lifetime, Zechs. Don't let it slip away." With a final shake of his head Duo walked away.
And it was a long time before Zechs stopped staring after the long, lonely shape making his way across the field.
~~~
Trowa glanced over at Heero as the two men walked back to the house. The afternoon light was swiftly fading and the fishing poles slung on their shoulders cast long, reed-like shadows at their feet. The container hefted between them was heavy with the day's bounty: fat, fleshy catfish, prime for the cooking.
Trowa smiled faintly to himself. It had been invigorating to spend the afternoon out on the water with the sun overhead and a friend at his side. Heero wasn't naturally talkative, but once he warmed up, the brunette displayed a quiet, engaging wit that the emerald-eyed actor greatly enjoyed. Not only that, but the shorter man had proved an excellent sportsman and Trowa definitely looked forward to another excursion with him.
As they neared the house again, Heero became more withdrawn. He said little as the entered the side kitchen and rested their catch on the table and began to clean it. He seemed deep in thought and Trowa was ready to bet that he could guess at what weighed so heavily on his friend's mind. Shrugging, the auburn-haired man decided to plunge right in.
Trowa looked up in the act of passing Heero a knife. "How are things between you and Zechs?" he asked neutrally, searching the brunette's eyes with his own.
Heero stilled in the act of gutting one of their prizes. A dark point of blood welled as the tip of the blade pressed into the fish's soft, pale belly. He stared at Trowa for the space of a heartbeat, before the golden wrist moved again, resuming its fluid motions. The sharp, coppery tang of blood filled the air as Heero exposed the red, pulpy viscera. Deftly, he pulled them out.
"There is no me and Zechs." He said simply.
Trowa regarded him evenly. " What does that mean, precisely?" he asked.
"What does that mean?" Heero repeated. He frowned. "I don't understand," he said gruffly.
Trowa picked up a fish and began mimicking the other man's actions. "You say that there is nothing between you and Zechs," the lithe man explained. He met Heero's eyes. "But I think you love him."
Heero's jaw tightened. "I--"
Trowa's gaze never left Heero's face. "And he loves you." The actor watched as the dark-haired beauty flinched, his lashes trembling briefly before the shorter man lowered his head. As expected, he didn't respond to Trowa's words.
Trowa was quietly persistent. "Tell me," he said softly. "What do you believe holding yourself away from him will accomplish?" Green eyes flashed knowingly. "Was what Zechs did so unforgivable?" Trowa continued, undaunted by the sudden, warning gleam in Heero's eyes. "He deceived you, yes, but he gave you the help you needed-" the tall man paused significantly " and that I suspect you were too stubborn to ask for. Have you considered that your stepfather might have died sooner if it hadn't been for Zechs' intervention?"
Trowa watched the play of emotions on Heero's face that the other man tried to conceal with silence and an impassive glare. He nodded. "I see you have." He stopped cutting and leaned against the table.
"Admit to yourself that you're scared because Milliardo makes you feel more than you ever wanted to. Is it really him you don't trust - or yourself?"
Heero's eyes narrowed. His lips were pressed into a tight, thin line. Carefully, Trowa reached over and eased the knife from Heero's grip. He placed it on the table next to the fish. "Leave this," he murmured firmly. Trowa was tired of waiting for the two men to come to their senses and it was clear that Quatre's subtler methods were proving ineffective. What they needed was a good solid* push * in the right direction.
"Go upstairs and take a nice, hot bath," Trowa instructed calmly. " When you're done go to your room and open the closet next to the bed. The door within leads to Zechs' room," Trowa revealed.
Heero stared at him with shocked blue eyes. "What?"
Trowa smiled. "You heard me. Quatre and I had been hoping that one of you would have found it already. But obviously you need some help." He led a dazed Heero to the foot of the stairs. "Open that door and go to Milliardo's bed tonight. You'll both be the better for it in the morning."
~~~
Heero hesitated at his door. Trowa's matter-of-fact assessment of his feelings and his friend's revelation had thrown him completely off balance. The Asian's fingers curled into tight fists. He thought of going to Zechs and he shook his head. It was impossible. He * couldn't *.
Still, he thought of the hidden door and blooded pounded in his veins. Anticipation or fear - he couldn't tell which. Anxiously Heero went into his room and closed the door behind him. The brunette went to the closet, his hand closed around the knob... Slowly he turned it…and stopped. Running a hand roughly through his hair, Heero spun on his heel.
This was ridiculous, the brunette fumed, and he cursed himself for even allowing himself for entertaining any doubts. Trowa didn't understand. He made it seem like Zechs hadn't betrayed him. Like the man hadn't taken him away from J at the time when his guardian had needed him the most. Made it seem like Zechs hadn't made him so *weak *.
The brunette flopped onto the large bed and stared at the ceiling. J's gaunt face ghosted before him and pain squeezed at his chest. If he and Zechs hadn't been…Heero closed his eyes against the image that immediately sprung to mind: of Zechs' skin limned in gold. And the love and tenderness of heated turquoise eyes devouring his very…soul…
Color touched the slim beauty's cheeks. Firmly he banished the memory. Trowa was wrong: He-he couldn't love Zechs…Love didn't matter anyway…It left no room for duty… Heero curled onto his side. Love would never make him good enough…
What was worse was that Trowa had suggested that something as base as sex could solve his problems the brunette recalled angrily. Trowa couldn't be more wrong. "What was desire but a burden?" Heero thought bitterly. Sex didn't solve anything. That kind of surrender was only weakness. And he'd had enough weakness to last a lifetime.
Yet, even in the midst of his anger, curiosity gnawed at him until he had to find out if there actually * was * a door leading to Zechs' room. And as Heero stood in the dark passage between the two rooms, the brunette reminded himself that he was doing this for no other reason than to protect himself. If he had access to Zechs' room it meant that the older man also had access to * his *. That was unacceptable. If he ever meant to move on with his life and fulfill all that J had set out for him then *all * contact between the blonde and himself must be severed.
Heero though of his encounter with Zechs in the garden the day before and his jaw tightened painfully at yet another reminder of his failure after all that had happened. For one disastrous moment, he had almost given in to the other man's charms. He had almost betrayed J for a second time. Despite the shame the memory provoked, the exotic youth knew it to be irrefutable proof of just how detrimental his relationship with Milliardo truly was.
Heero ignored the faint trembling in his limbs as slowly he opened the closet door and stepped into the darkened passage. He stepped forward and found himself facing a door identical to the one leading to his room. Light spilled from beneath it in a thin, yellow smudge that bathed his naked toes and caused his stomach to churn.
The single beam confirmed Trowa's words and the weight of anxiety sunk like a cold lump within him. Unconsciously, the slender beauty hugged his robe tighter to his frame. Carefully, he turned the knob and peeked into the room on the other side. He found the sheets on Zechs' bed turned down but un-rumpled, suggesting that the blonde was preparing for bed. And though the soft, pajama bottoms slung over a nearby chair, confirmed the younger man's suspicions the aristocrat seemed nowhere to be found.
Against his better judgment Heero ventured further in. Zechs' presence lingered in the room - and the sudden, * painful * yearning it roused from deep within caused Heero's knees to weaken. It was the stack of books on the nightstand, the broad, bold script on their open pages. The bright, golden hairs curling in the brush on the dresser called to him and the faint, spicy scent of aftershave perfumed the air, surrounded him like some sweet, elusive emotion. Involuntarily, Heero's eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, savoring that small part of the other man for one last time.
The soft, unmistakable click of a door startled Heero out of his trance.
Instinctively he spun towards it and watched with increasing horror as Zechs' door slowly opened. Frantically he considered making it to the closet, but it was already too late.
Zechs was standing in the doorway, a towel slung low on lean hips and his pale hair damp across broad shoulders. His skin glistened with wet, shivering droplets that seemed to echo the faint trembling that seized Heero's body. Arrested he watched as they broke across the taut ridges of Zechs' abdomen in slow, curving rivulets. He had to leave…
A fine tension coiled through Zechs' powerful frame. As if by instinct the older man spotted the brunette, their gazes locked and something surged wildly in the air between them.
Heero's eyes widened as the larger man began to approach, his gaze heavy-lidded and unreadable. For every step the older man took forward, the slender beauty took one backwards - retreating until he bumped into the incriminating closet door.
It shut with soft finality, leaving him prisoner to the man before him.
Only then did Zechs really close the distance between them. He bent, leaning close to the petite brunette until their bodies brushed together with sweet, intimate familiarity. Heat flared and fanned between them and Heero stilled, suddenly unable to catch his breath.
Zechs' gaze fixed on the beauty's trembling lips and he couldn't help the raw need that roughened his voice when he uttered the smaller man's name. Softly, he brushed Heero's cheek with the backs of his fingers.
" Heero," he murmured hoarsely. "You've come."
Standard disclaimers apply: I don't own Gundam Wing or its bishounen, nor am I making any monetary profit from this fic whatsoever.
Author: Michalyn (darling_162002@yahoo.com)
Pairings: 6x1, 13+5 ( possible 13x5 later), 3+4
General Warnings: AU ( the pilots are 18, Zechs and Treize are 23) yaoi, angst, sap, lemon
Archive: http://angelfire.com/gundam/asanctuary, http://raygunworks.net, http://www.gundam-wing-universe.net/
Rating: NC 17
Warnings for this chapter: angst: naughty Zechs fantasies, 13x5 limon - and more angst.
Feedback: craved ^_^
Zechs bent low, his powerful thighs gripping the thoroughbred's flanks as horse and rider moved as one over the grassy field. Carefully, the blonde shifted his weight in the saddle, guiding Dancer towards the obstacle with the fluid movements of his body as well as a firm hand on the reins. Sweat trickled down his back, cooling in the faint breeze and Zechs felt the bunching of muscles as Dancer prepared for the jump. Instinctively he adjusted, moving in sync with the mare. Gracefully they arced through the air, clearing the obstacle with beautiful ease and landing neatly on the other side.
They slowed to a walk and Zechs led them over to a shady grove. He dismounted, fondly scratching between Dancer's ears and murmuring soft words of praise as he brought her to the nearby drinking trough. While Dancer eagerly slaked her thirst the blonde sought his own rest under a large, spreading tree, knowing that the docile mare would not run off. Closing his eyes, he reclined against the stout bark, enjoying the soft breeze and the pleasant scratchiness of wood against his back. Slowly, his breathing returned to normal as blessed exhaustion seeped through his limbs.
The aristocrat sighed. He'd gone to the stables just as the first tints of dawn were staining the sky, in the hopes of relieving the *frustrating* effects of an incredibly vivid dream involving himself, Heero and a bottle of chocolate syrup. The image of Heero, arched taut - trembling in passion - golden skin glistening with perspiration, tormented him every time he closed his eyes. Even now, just the remembrance was enough to heat his blood. Zechs groaned, shifting restlessly as familiar fire licked along his veins. It had seemed so real…
He could almost taste the salt of Heero's skin, mingling with the sweet stickiness of chocolate as he lovingly devoured the delicate flesh of his lover's inner thighs. In the fantasy, Heero had been just as wantonly, * achingly * beautiful as he remembered: Leanly muscled and slim hipped, his nude body gleaming in the lamplight - small nipples flushed and erect from careful attentions - and the dark hair against the white pillows echoing the darker, thicker nest at the younger man's groin where Zechs was working his magic. But most beautiful had been the unmistakable happiness in the Asian's eyes. No sadness, just love and need - and an all-consuming passion that knew no bounds.
When he'd reverently cupped Heero's testicles and begun a careful suction on the plump, rosy sacs, a desperate cry had burst from the younger man's lips, his fists twisting convulsively in the sheets as he orgasmed, powerfully and abruptly. Zechs had caressed him, prepared him with slick devilish fingers and by the time he was finished, Heero was flushed and panting, thighs spread eagerly in invitation. Lovingly Zechs had positioned himself at the entrance so sweetly revealed…
And promptly woke up to an empty bed and sweat-tangled sheets. After that, any hopes of sleep were pointless. So he'd gotten dressed and come out here. Needless to say, the aristocrat had not been very successful in forgetting his frustrations. Involuntarily, another groan escaped him.
"Penny for your thoughts."
Zechs' eyes snapped open. He peered up to find Duo looming over him, with a mixture of curiosity and amusement animating his graceful features. Pointedly, the violet gaze traveled from the blonde's groin and back to his face.
"I don't suppose that's for me is it?" the chestnut-haired beauty joked wryly.
Zechs grunted as Duo sat next to him on the grass and folded long, jeans-clad legs beneath him. The brunette eyed him lasciviously. Impulsively, he leaned forward until his breath caressed the sensitive shell of the older man's ear.
"I'd be happy to take care of--" Before the blonde could object, a slender palm slid between his thighs. "- *This*," Duo finished wickedly, kneading the warm bulge beneath his palm with hot, familiar motions.
The shock of it caused air to whoosh out of Zechs' lungs as sharp pleasure rocked through his body. He gasped and shuddered, before his large hand clamped down on Duo's with almost bruising force.
"Duo," he ground out between clenched teeth. "You don't know what you're doing. Stop it."
The younger man sighed and reluctantly withdrew. A spark of pain flashed in his eyes as he regarded his ex-lover. "Let me guess," he asked dully. "You were thinking of * him*".
Zechs ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He was torn between wanting to comfort Duo- and his love for Heero. He knew all too well the talents Duo had to offer, but his hope for a reconcilement with Heero proved stronger.
"I-Yes…"
Duo drew his knees up and hugged them thoughtfully. Finally, a bitter chuckle escaped him. "I should have known…" He shook his head in painful disbelief. "I knew you had it bad--" The brunette paused. "Quatre told me…" His eyes grew distant. "I guess I just didn't want to see how much."
Duo fell silent and Zechs was at a loss for words. He had loved Duo and he didn't think that he would ever truly stop caring for the petite brunette - no matter how many years or miles separated them. So it pained him to see the singer so hurt. Tore at him even more that he was the cause of it. And yet it was Heero he wanted, Heero he loved and still dreamt of every night - not Duo. If there were the tiniest chance of winning Heero's heart again, he would seize it. He couldn't - * wouldn't * - jeopardize that for * anyone*. Not even the man who had once stolen his heart.
Tentatively, Zechs placed a comforting hand on Duo's shoulder. "I'm sorry Kit," he murmured softly, using the old nickname. "You are intelligent and desirable and oh-so - passionate - The blonde smiled as Duo snorted dismissively. "I wish I could be the man for you. But--"
Duo stopped him with an upraised palm. A painful smile touched his lips. "But you love Heero right?"
The aristocrat sighed. He nodded. "I do love him," Zechs admitted quietly. Wistfully he turned to his younger companion. "Two years, a year - gods even six months ago - things would have been different," Zechs murmured. "Nothing would have kept me from you." Meaningfully he looked into Duo's eyes. "There was not a day I didn't think about you, worry about you, wonder what you were up to…" Zechs' chuckled shortly. "Did you know I followed every one of your performances?"
Duo looked at him with surprise. Most of his early performances had been restricted to small, lesser known, stages and events. That Zechs had kept abreast of every one spoke volumes. "You what?" he asked in disbelief. "Most of them were hardly even publicized."
Zechs smiled again as he smoothed a stray strand behind Duo's ear. Deliberately, his palm turned inwards and he caressed the brunette's pale cheek. "Ah, but I knew," the large blonde murmured. "What good is the Peacecraft name if I can't use it to check up on an old friend?" he asked smiling softly. But Duo's heart had already begun to sink at that all-important word: Friend. Not love, or lover.
He could see the truth of Zechs' words in his eyes and Duo ached for lost opportunity - almost cursed Heero for standing in the way of his happiness. But that was not his style. Life tossed you punches and it was useless to whine about it. You won some and you lost some - plain and simple. And though this particular loss was incredibly painful, Duo Maxwell had never been one to "beat a dying horse". For the first time since he'd arrived, the beauty saw the situation clearly. It was over. -Time for him to move on. Heero had nothing to do with this. "What was love if you didn't want to see the one you cared about happy?" Duo reasoned. If Z now saw him as a friend, then he would be that. Violet eyes closed sadly and Duo savored the warmth of Milliardo's palm on his cheek before turning away. The singer feigned nonchalance - hiding tear-bright eyes beneath his long bangs.
An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. For a moment, Zechs appeared like he wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it. Finally Duo turned to other man with a brave smile. The weight of loss ached in his chest, but he planted a playful expression firmly on his face as he nudged the tall blonde companionably.
"Sooo," he drawled. "Mind sharing that dream with an old friend?"
~~~~
Quatre headed towards the library, a slim novel tucked neatly under his arm. Much as he treasured Trowa's company, He was hoping for some time alone to think and the library was the best place he could think of to do so. Since he had spoken with Duo, his thoughts had been only of his friend. Assaulted by guilt and sorrow by turns - and totally lost in his own musings, the petite Arabian almost slammed right into Wufei, who, if the book in his hand was any evidence, had been thinking along the same lines as his friend.
The dark-haired youth bowed deferentially. "Forgive me." Wufei apologized. "I did not see you."
Shaking his head, Quatre smiled. "No, no. It was my fault, really. I was a thousand miles away."
"As was I." Wufei inclined his head in acknowledgement. "We were both at fault," he said gracefully. "Think nothing of it." He spotted the book in the smaller blonde's hand and moved as though to retreat. "Please," a golden arm indicated the open library door. "Go ahead. I don't want to disturb."
Quatre forestalled him with a quick gesture. "Please, Wufei I insist. He chuckled somewhat sheepishly as he lifted his book to show his friend. "I don't think I would have gotten much reading done anyway," he revealed with a grin. " Some quiet time was more of what I had in mind." Wufei tried to object, but Quatre quickly prevented him. "*Besides*," he said with emphasis. " There's plenty of room for two." He led the serious Chinese through the double doors and set his book down on the table before turning to face Wufei. "Also I've been meaning to have a nice conversation with you," the Arabian informed his friend with a sunny smile. "It's been far too long."
Wufei paused in the act of sitting. "With me?" he asked in surprise.
Quatre smiled as he took the opposite seat. "Yes, with you," he chided gently. "Is that so surprising?"
Wufei shook his head. He frowned at his rudeness. Though he was not nearly as close to Quatre as he was to Duo, there was a strong, mutual respect between them and they frequently spent time together. But most of these times * had * been in the presence of at least one of the others, so it was something of a surprise to know that Quatre had specifically sought him out.
"Not at all," the scholar amended. "I meant no offense. What would you like to speak of?"
Quatre's smile broadened. "I believe congratulations are in order."
Wufei frowned in confusion. "Congratu-Oh." Self-consciously, he cleared his throat. "Ah-thank you."
The sunny blonde nodded. "I bumped into Treize a few weeks ago," he said, answering Wufei's unspoken question. "And I think it's absolutely wonderful." Quatre beamed. "You and Treize are beautiful together."
Wufei darkened just a shade further under his warm complexion. His lips parted and shut. He wasn't sure what to say.
Quatre tried to put him at ease. "Have you decided on a date yet?"
"No. No," Wufei repeated as he tried to find his voice - all the while cursing Treize's wayward tongue. Why couldn't the bastard have waited so that they could tell their friends together? That way he could have been saved this trouble. The man knew he was terrible at these things!
"We haven't--" Wufei cleared his throat again. "We haven't really discussed it yet."
The young heir nodded. "You must be so excited. If you need any help, Tro and I would be happy to help."
Wufei inclined his head politely. 'Thank you."
Taking pity on the other man, Quatre was just about to ask about Wufei's book when he noticed a ginger head poking through the doorway. Surreptitiously he nodded, letting Treize know that his lover was within. The blonde almost laughed out loud at the mischievous expression that lighted the other man's face and he decided it was best to leave the two men alone. Besides, he reasoned, he could think just as well in the garden as here.
Rising, he turned to Wufei. "I'm sorry to leave so abruptly Wu," but I just remembered something that needs my attention."
Puzzled, Wufei looked up at Quatre's enigmatic words. "Alright," he answered slowly. "We shall speak again?" he asked politely - though in truth it was the last thing he wished for. To his mind, the less said about the matter the better.
Quatre nodded. He grinned as he headed towards the door. "Count on it." The blonde winked at a smiling Treize. With one last look at the seated Chinese, he mouthed the word "enjoy" and disappeared around the corner.
Treize waited until he heard Wufei settle with his book and allowed the beauty a few minutes to become engrossed before stealthily making his approach. Carefully, he slipped behind his lover's chair.
"Miss me?"
Wufei started, rising in a half-crouch from his seat. "What--?" He scowled as Treize came to stand in front of him. "I should have known." Irritably he settled back against the armchair. The Chinese pierced his lover with a glare. "Why did you have to tell Quatre?" he demanded.
The shorthaired man nudged Wufei's thighs open and knelt between them. "Tell Quatre what?" he asked absently, long fingers busy trying to snatch his lover's book away.
Determinedly, Wufei tucked the novel under his arm. His glare intensified. "He said he ran into you a few weeks ago…" The Asian paused significantly.
Treize frowned confusedly. He raised a honeyed brow. "Yes…?"
Wufei made an exasperated sound. "Couldn't you wait to tell him about * us *?"
Understanding dawned and the older man smiled. "So that's what you're rambling about." Lightly he caressed Wufei's thighs. " Dragon, it's been almost a month," he pointed out dryly. "And why shouldn't I want the world to know you're mine, hmm?" Large hands came to rest lightly about the smaller man's waist. " It seems rather silly to be engaged and to keep it to ourselves no?"
Wufei huffed. Treize's words made him feel foolish. So he said nothing. Instead he sighed as his lover leant in to kiss him playfully on the nose.
As Treize was never one to pass up any opportunity to play with his Dragon, he leaned forward and stole another kiss. This time, it was a gentle mating of mouths that left Wufei trembling and the aristocrat yearning for much, much more.
Treize reached out to pluck the book from under Wufei's arm. In doing so, his fingers deliberately brushed the small nipple exposed through the wide armhole of the sleeveless tank the young man wore. It tightened immediately and Treize grinned as Wufei made an annoyed sound and pressed against the back of the chair as he tried to escape the touch. But both nipples were already peaked, their tiny points clearly visible through the thin cotton of Wufei's shirt, betraying his want.
Treize's grin broadened.
The look the petite Chinese shot the aristocrat was positively venomous. "Isn't there something you should be doing * other than * disturbing me? Is the concept of personal space so foreign to you?" he demanded.
Treize pretended to mull over the question. "Well," he said huskily, sapphire eyes locking with ebony. " I * should * be upstairs making love with you." The ginger-haired man savored the breathy gasp that gusted past Wufei's lips. He nibbled seductively on the fleshy lobe of Wufei's right ear. "And I can think of many ways to keep us both occupied, that have everything to do with * personal space *, " he purred, pausing to trace the convolutions of the delicate shell with a hot tongue.
Wufei squirmed and shivered. He clutched helplessly at Treize's shoulders, groaning when the larger man began to describe his intentions in * very* explicit detail. But Treize didn't stop there. The older man bent to rain kisses on Wufei's inner thighs. Teasingly, he mouthed the hot bulge at Wufei's crotch - shaping the growing mound with lips and hands through the baggy folds of the younger man's slacks. When knowing hands shifted even lower, rubbing at soft, sensitive sacs, Wufei gave a startled cry.
Treize pressed his lover backwards. He hooked a hand behind Wufei's right knee, shifting the slender beauty so that his leg was draped over the stuffed arm of the chair. Deftly he undid the Chinese's pants and Wufei made a desperate, mewling sound as he became trapped between velvet cushioning and the palm moving in tight, hot circles over his straining erection. Treize's lips were at his ear, the sensitive curve of his neck, hot breath caressing his skin as the aristocrat murmured soft, searing words of praise. Treize eased Wufei's briefs aside, stretching the damp material to stroke the naked flesh beneath. The Chinese's eyes widened as heat built to a fever pitch within him. He felt a familiar tightening in his groin. Desperately he pushed at Treize's shoulders. "Treize-stop. I'm going to--"
To his utter mortification it was all he was able to gasp out before he climaxed onto Treize's palm with hot silky pulses.
Treize held the younger man's gaze with smoldering eyes. Hectic color flooded Wufei's cheeks as the ginger-haired man slowly and deliberately licked his fingers clean. He rocked back on his heels, chuckling knowingly.
"What?" Wufei snapped He attempted to stand - and grimaced as his underwear stuck to his skin. "Why did you have to do that?"
The older man smiled sensually. His gaze dropped to Wufei's groin before traveling to the scholar's face again. He shrugged easily. "Because you are unbelievably sexy." Treize rose to his feet." And because I enjoy it." he answered simply. The aristocrat dragged a damp finger along Wufei's lush bottom lip. A spark of mischief glinted in his eyes. "Besides, you came so quickly," he whispered huskily. "I think you needed me to."
Wufei jerked backwards, black eyes flashing. "I-I-you-you," he sputtered. Indignantly, he turned away.
Treize burst into full-fledged laughter as he pulled his small beauty into his arms. He kissed the younger man lovingly. "How about a shower and a nap together?" he asked seriously. When the scholar nodded, he tugged Wufei out of the library and towards the stairs. Treize's gaze softened. He caressed the small palm nestled in his own.
"Have I told you how much I love you?"
~~~
Zechs chuckled softly as Duo finished telling his story. They'd spent much of the morning catching up on everything that happened in the two years since Duo had left and Zechs was amazed at how easily their old rapport had returned. He smiled wistfully. Yet so much had changed…
After a few moments Duo said hesitantly. "I met him you know."
Zechs arched a tawny brow. "Him?"
The brunette shot him a sideways glance. "Heero," he answered quietly.
The older man hesitated. Warily he searched the singer's expression. "When?" he asked finally.
Duo sighed as he crossed his arms behind his head. "Yesterday at breakfast." He met Zechs' gaze. "Don't worry, I didn't tell him about us," the brunette dryly assured him.
Milliardo frowned. "I wasn't--"
Duo interrupted him."I know. But you know you're gonna have to, right?"
Zechs nodded. "I will…"
"When? Tomorrow? Next week?" Duo persisted. "He * is * going to find out sooner or later, whether you want to tell him or not," the braided man said bluntly. "It's only a matter of time before he asks Tro or Q about it." Duo shook his head. "And if you're trying to regain his trust, that is that last thing you want to happen."
Zechs clenched his jaw. He knew Duo was right. He had to tell Heero. There really was no getting around it. But yesterday… Yesterday Heero had let him in again - If only a little.
The brunette still felt something for him - he knew it. But dare he risk destroying the only glimmer of hope he'd had in weeks?
As if reading his thoughts Duo frowned. He made a short, disapproving sound. "Don't be an ass. If you ever want to turn that fantasy of yours into a reality you have to be honest with him." Duo's voice lowered, as Quatre's own advice came back to him.
"Then you just have to trust Heero to make the right decision…" He looked away, swallowing the ache in his throat. "Tell him today, Zechs."
Abruptly the younger man stood. "He * is * beautiful Z." Pale fists clenched as Duo half-turned away. Valiantly, the chestnut-haired beauty fought to maintain his control. "What the two of you have is worth saving." He gazed down at Zechs with pain filled eyes. The regret buried in those depths was for his own folly.
"You only find true love once in this lifetime, Zechs. Don't let it slip away." With a final shake of his head Duo walked away.
And it was a long time before Zechs stopped staring after the long, lonely shape making his way across the field.
~~~
Trowa glanced over at Heero as the two men walked back to the house. The afternoon light was swiftly fading and the fishing poles slung on their shoulders cast long, reed-like shadows at their feet. The container hefted between them was heavy with the day's bounty: fat, fleshy catfish, prime for the cooking.
Trowa smiled faintly to himself. It had been invigorating to spend the afternoon out on the water with the sun overhead and a friend at his side. Heero wasn't naturally talkative, but once he warmed up, the brunette displayed a quiet, engaging wit that the emerald-eyed actor greatly enjoyed. Not only that, but the shorter man had proved an excellent sportsman and Trowa definitely looked forward to another excursion with him.
As they neared the house again, Heero became more withdrawn. He said little as the entered the side kitchen and rested their catch on the table and began to clean it. He seemed deep in thought and Trowa was ready to bet that he could guess at what weighed so heavily on his friend's mind. Shrugging, the auburn-haired man decided to plunge right in.
Trowa looked up in the act of passing Heero a knife. "How are things between you and Zechs?" he asked neutrally, searching the brunette's eyes with his own.
Heero stilled in the act of gutting one of their prizes. A dark point of blood welled as the tip of the blade pressed into the fish's soft, pale belly. He stared at Trowa for the space of a heartbeat, before the golden wrist moved again, resuming its fluid motions. The sharp, coppery tang of blood filled the air as Heero exposed the red, pulpy viscera. Deftly, he pulled them out.
"There is no me and Zechs." He said simply.
Trowa regarded him evenly. " What does that mean, precisely?" he asked.
"What does that mean?" Heero repeated. He frowned. "I don't understand," he said gruffly.
Trowa picked up a fish and began mimicking the other man's actions. "You say that there is nothing between you and Zechs," the lithe man explained. He met Heero's eyes. "But I think you love him."
Heero's jaw tightened. "I--"
Trowa's gaze never left Heero's face. "And he loves you." The actor watched as the dark-haired beauty flinched, his lashes trembling briefly before the shorter man lowered his head. As expected, he didn't respond to Trowa's words.
Trowa was quietly persistent. "Tell me," he said softly. "What do you believe holding yourself away from him will accomplish?" Green eyes flashed knowingly. "Was what Zechs did so unforgivable?" Trowa continued, undaunted by the sudden, warning gleam in Heero's eyes. "He deceived you, yes, but he gave you the help you needed-" the tall man paused significantly " and that I suspect you were too stubborn to ask for. Have you considered that your stepfather might have died sooner if it hadn't been for Zechs' intervention?"
Trowa watched the play of emotions on Heero's face that the other man tried to conceal with silence and an impassive glare. He nodded. "I see you have." He stopped cutting and leaned against the table.
"Admit to yourself that you're scared because Milliardo makes you feel more than you ever wanted to. Is it really him you don't trust - or yourself?"
Heero's eyes narrowed. His lips were pressed into a tight, thin line. Carefully, Trowa reached over and eased the knife from Heero's grip. He placed it on the table next to the fish. "Leave this," he murmured firmly. Trowa was tired of waiting for the two men to come to their senses and it was clear that Quatre's subtler methods were proving ineffective. What they needed was a good solid* push * in the right direction.
"Go upstairs and take a nice, hot bath," Trowa instructed calmly. " When you're done go to your room and open the closet next to the bed. The door within leads to Zechs' room," Trowa revealed.
Heero stared at him with shocked blue eyes. "What?"
Trowa smiled. "You heard me. Quatre and I had been hoping that one of you would have found it already. But obviously you need some help." He led a dazed Heero to the foot of the stairs. "Open that door and go to Milliardo's bed tonight. You'll both be the better for it in the morning."
~~~
Heero hesitated at his door. Trowa's matter-of-fact assessment of his feelings and his friend's revelation had thrown him completely off balance. The Asian's fingers curled into tight fists. He thought of going to Zechs and he shook his head. It was impossible. He * couldn't *.
Still, he thought of the hidden door and blooded pounded in his veins. Anticipation or fear - he couldn't tell which. Anxiously Heero went into his room and closed the door behind him. The brunette went to the closet, his hand closed around the knob... Slowly he turned it…and stopped. Running a hand roughly through his hair, Heero spun on his heel.
This was ridiculous, the brunette fumed, and he cursed himself for even allowing himself for entertaining any doubts. Trowa didn't understand. He made it seem like Zechs hadn't betrayed him. Like the man hadn't taken him away from J at the time when his guardian had needed him the most. Made it seem like Zechs hadn't made him so *weak *.
The brunette flopped onto the large bed and stared at the ceiling. J's gaunt face ghosted before him and pain squeezed at his chest. If he and Zechs hadn't been…Heero closed his eyes against the image that immediately sprung to mind: of Zechs' skin limned in gold. And the love and tenderness of heated turquoise eyes devouring his very…soul…
Color touched the slim beauty's cheeks. Firmly he banished the memory. Trowa was wrong: He-he couldn't love Zechs…Love didn't matter anyway…It left no room for duty… Heero curled onto his side. Love would never make him good enough…
What was worse was that Trowa had suggested that something as base as sex could solve his problems the brunette recalled angrily. Trowa couldn't be more wrong. "What was desire but a burden?" Heero thought bitterly. Sex didn't solve anything. That kind of surrender was only weakness. And he'd had enough weakness to last a lifetime.
Yet, even in the midst of his anger, curiosity gnawed at him until he had to find out if there actually * was * a door leading to Zechs' room. And as Heero stood in the dark passage between the two rooms, the brunette reminded himself that he was doing this for no other reason than to protect himself. If he had access to Zechs' room it meant that the older man also had access to * his *. That was unacceptable. If he ever meant to move on with his life and fulfill all that J had set out for him then *all * contact between the blonde and himself must be severed.
Heero though of his encounter with Zechs in the garden the day before and his jaw tightened painfully at yet another reminder of his failure after all that had happened. For one disastrous moment, he had almost given in to the other man's charms. He had almost betrayed J for a second time. Despite the shame the memory provoked, the exotic youth knew it to be irrefutable proof of just how detrimental his relationship with Milliardo truly was.
Heero ignored the faint trembling in his limbs as slowly he opened the closet door and stepped into the darkened passage. He stepped forward and found himself facing a door identical to the one leading to his room. Light spilled from beneath it in a thin, yellow smudge that bathed his naked toes and caused his stomach to churn.
The single beam confirmed Trowa's words and the weight of anxiety sunk like a cold lump within him. Unconsciously, the slender beauty hugged his robe tighter to his frame. Carefully, he turned the knob and peeked into the room on the other side. He found the sheets on Zechs' bed turned down but un-rumpled, suggesting that the blonde was preparing for bed. And though the soft, pajama bottoms slung over a nearby chair, confirmed the younger man's suspicions the aristocrat seemed nowhere to be found.
Against his better judgment Heero ventured further in. Zechs' presence lingered in the room - and the sudden, * painful * yearning it roused from deep within caused Heero's knees to weaken. It was the stack of books on the nightstand, the broad, bold script on their open pages. The bright, golden hairs curling in the brush on the dresser called to him and the faint, spicy scent of aftershave perfumed the air, surrounded him like some sweet, elusive emotion. Involuntarily, Heero's eyes closed and he inhaled deeply, savoring that small part of the other man for one last time.
The soft, unmistakable click of a door startled Heero out of his trance.
Instinctively he spun towards it and watched with increasing horror as Zechs' door slowly opened. Frantically he considered making it to the closet, but it was already too late.
Zechs was standing in the doorway, a towel slung low on lean hips and his pale hair damp across broad shoulders. His skin glistened with wet, shivering droplets that seemed to echo the faint trembling that seized Heero's body. Arrested he watched as they broke across the taut ridges of Zechs' abdomen in slow, curving rivulets. He had to leave…
A fine tension coiled through Zechs' powerful frame. As if by instinct the older man spotted the brunette, their gazes locked and something surged wildly in the air between them.
Heero's eyes widened as the larger man began to approach, his gaze heavy-lidded and unreadable. For every step the older man took forward, the slender beauty took one backwards - retreating until he bumped into the incriminating closet door.
It shut with soft finality, leaving him prisoner to the man before him.
Only then did Zechs really close the distance between them. He bent, leaning close to the petite brunette until their bodies brushed together with sweet, intimate familiarity. Heat flared and fanned between them and Heero stilled, suddenly unable to catch his breath.
Zechs' gaze fixed on the beauty's trembling lips and he couldn't help the raw need that roughened his voice when he uttered the smaller man's name. Softly, he brushed Heero's cheek with the backs of his fingers.
" Heero," he murmured hoarsely. "You've come."