Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ December ❯ Prologue
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Ann H 
AU, OCC, SAP. Set after the war, what has happened to Treize? He tells you in his own words.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.07.2002 | Pages: 5 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 463 | Status: Completed
AU, OCC, SAP. Set after the war, what has happened to Treize? He tells you in his own words.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Hentai | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 11.07.2002 | Pages: 5 | Words: 3.8K | Visits: 463 | Status: Completed
Title: December
Author: Ann
Rating: R. Yaoi is implied, mention of drinking, a cuss word or two, a kiss.
Notes: 13 x 5 pairing; presumed 1 x 2 and 3 x 4, though not active in this story. Mostly canon through the final battle, then AU (no Mariemaia, no EW). OCC, probably too sappy for my own good, but the holidays are coming up, so be nice. Gundam pilots are now 19, Treize 28. Treize POV.
Archive: Ask, and ye shall receive. Feedback: Ann89103@lvcm.com
Soft, warming, peaceful mood music while writing: Linkin Park. I'm strange. Deal with it. <g>
***
December 5, AC 198
Another bittersweet December.
Almost every momentous event in my life, for good or bad, has taken place then. My birth. My first kiss. Acceptance into the Academy. The death of my parents. Becoming General of Oz. That final battle. My "death."
I've always been a reflective, brooding man behind the mask of the gracious aristocrat. Even with thousands of soldiers eager to follow my every command, conniving politicians currying my favor, and an obsessive woman seeking to warm my bed, I managed to keep them all distant and protect my solitude.
Only a Solitary Dragon could break down the walls. Chang Wufei, my proud, fiery love, has done that and more. I am blessed beyond words; I could not ask for a better life.
But it is December, and he's not here. Every December he leaves, joining the other former Gundam pilots for a reunion. He needs this time with his friends: every January he returns with renewed smiles and tales of his latest practical-joke wars with Duo Maxwell. Those smiles are worth every moment of separation. So we celebrated my birthday yesterday--28, hard to believe--and today I sent him off to his friends.
In the meantime, I have four weeks to myself. So now I find myself writing in this journal. On the couch next to me are some of my favorite novels. A bottle of my favorite burgundy rests on an end table. The gentle, soothing sounds of Mendelssohn's "A Midsummer Night's Dream: Overture" flow through the room.
All that is missing are roses. And Wufei.
Another bittersweet December.
***
December 10, AC 198
It took all of five days for the books, music and wine to pale. Time for something different. So I put on a warm sweater, jeans, hiking boots and a coat, and went for a walk.
When I was at Romafeller, I could never go anywhere alone. There was always a security detail following my every step. Even in quiet times, Lady Une would be hovering around a corner, trying to anticipate my needs.
Now there's no Romafeller, Lady Une has found another focus in the Preventers, and I can enjoy the simple, greater pleasures of my new life. Pleasures that include the chilled, crisp air that surrounds and fills me as I walk the narrow streets of Russian Hill, heading towards Fisherman's Wharf.
It still amazes (and humbles) me that I can, as Wufei puts it, "hide in plain sight." Almost three years living in a comfortable neighborhood in San Francisco, yet no one has recognized me.
Of course, no one is looking for a dead man. And I *do* look different. Maybe it's because I've let my hair grow out; it is almost shoulder-length now, nearly as long as Wufei's. It could be because I now keep my eyebrows trimmed, hiding that distinguishing characteristic. Or maybe the clothes *do* make the man: I certainly prefer the comfort of sweaters and jeans to that constricting straightjacket of an Oz uniform.
Wufei says it is because I am at peace. I think he is right.
***
December 16, AC 198
My parents died eleven years ago today.
My mother was a wonderful woman, loving and kind. My father could never be so demonstrative, but he was everything I wanted to be: intelligent, cultured and strong. With their deaths, I was left with distant, grasping relatives only concerned with wealth and power. It was a terribly lonely time.
When I finally told Wufei about my parents, I insisted that this day never be mentioned again. No reminders, no commiseration: I wanted to be left alone.
All he did was pull me close, enveloping me in a gentle hug. He pulled back slightly after a few minutes, large expressive eyes soft with compassion and understanding, bright with unshed tears. I barely heard the soft, "As you wish, Treize."
I was wrong. I wish he would call.
I wish he was here.
***
December 17, AC 198
I woke up this morning to a world full of pain. A massive hangover will do that to a person.
I deserve the pain. I have built a new, satisfying life out of the ashes of war, yet each December I fall prey to bouts of depression and self-pity. It's pathetic.
In my mind I can hear Wufei saying, "It is weak!"
The world may not know me anymore, but I *am* Treize Kushrenada. I have things to do.
***
December 17, AC 198 - Second entry
I haven't been this tired in a while. A good exhaustion.
The living room is a mess. The couch, loveseat and end tables have been pushed back against one wall. The coffee table has been moved across the room, a comfortable distance removed from the fireplace.
A seven-foot tall Christmas tree now rests near the bay window. A haphazard array of colorful packages lay nearby, bursting with ornaments, tinsel and lights.
So much to do, so little time.
I still need to go grocery shopping, plus find the perfect gifts for Wufei.
I can't help but laugh; Wufei will think I've lost my mind. We've never had a Christmas together: that first December I spent in a hospital under an assumed name, recovering from our mech battle. His first exposure to Christmas was two years ago, when Duo Maxwell hosted their first reunion.
Wufei returned to me that January with so many questions: what does Santa Claus have to do with the birth of Christ? If all good children were to receive presents, why didn't they on L5? And how do those tiny reindeer manage to carry all those presents and the (his words, not mine) big fat man?
I don't think he completely understands the holiday yet, but he will. When he returns in two weeks, we will celebrate Christmas in January.
Peace on Earth. That's worth celebrating every day. I know that now.
Someone's at the door. Hopefully it will be the carolers who came down our street last year. Such bright, cheerful, friendly faces...
***
December 17, AC 198 - Third entry
I am still in shock. It just wasn't possible. There he stood, eyes lit with a nervous excitement, cheeks flushed, that shy smile that melts my heart with every appearance.
Wufei. My dragon.
Within seconds he was pulled into my arms, and I was swinging him in wild circles within our living room, barely missing the Christmas tree more than once. Then I was pressing sweet, breathy kisses all over his face before sweeping in for that moment of magic: that first tender reunion of lips, a kiss born of passion, longing and love.
I pulled back slightly, both of us gasping for much-needed air, when I heard the heavy thud of baggage hitting the floor. Turning towards the source of the sound, I got my second surprise of the night: it wasn't nearly as pleasant as the first.
Before me stood the other Gundam pilots. Heero Yuy's cobalt eyes should have burned a hole in my head, given the intensity of his stare. His right hand twitched minutely, as though wanting to reach for a weapon. To his left, Duo Maxwell wore a cheerful grin... one that reminded me of wolves with cornered prey. Beside Duo stood Trowa Barton. He studied me intently: silent, steady, through. Quatre Rebarba Winner was the only relaxed one, favoring me with a small, but pleasant smile. Now *that* made me nervous.
Even in my darkest hours, I am exceedingly polite. Mere moments after taking in their presence, I was the perfect host. Walking over to Yuy, I extended my right hand.
"Welcome to our home, Heero Yuy."
I honestly believe the young man didn't know whether to deck me or shake my hand. He had help in making his decision, though, from Wufei.
From my right side came what can only be described as a low, menacing growl. Everyone turned to face Wufei, and everyone flinched.
Wufei simply glared at us all. Not his usual heated "I'm displeased with your behavior" glare, which I'm sure Maxwell and I are most used to seeing. No, this was more of a steely "you will disport yourselves with dignity and honor, or I will run you through" glare combined with a mournful "I expected better from one I consider a valued, true friend" glare.
Mere mortals could not withstand such power. Heero shook my hand, as did his friends, without further incident.
Well, except for when Duo Maxwell goosed me. Wufei merely smiled at his friend, then turned and winked at me.
I've lived with Wufei for almost three years now. The dazzling boy I met that held such promise has matured into a confident, generous, intelligent young man... with a wild streak.
Wufei is on his home turf now. Maxwell's not going to know what hit him. This should be amusing.
That will come later, I'm sure. We finally got everyone settled in the other two bedrooms, and once Wufei finishes his shower, we can get some rest.
Another momentous December event. I'm completely exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. I can't wait to relax into sleep, holding my dragon for the first time in far too long.
Wufei emerges from the bathroom, white towel slung low on bronzed hips, hair damp and loose, shining eyes full of hunger and need.
Still, I have to know. "Wufei... why are they here? Why are *you* here?" My voice seems to echo through the room.
Again, that shy, endearing smile. Gods, I love him so much.
"Because I love you, and I won't hide you. You always thought it would be better for me to keep our life a secret, and you feared my friends would turn on me. Well, true friends don't cut and run during the tough times, and I believe in my friends."
What an amazing man.
"Treize," he continues as he makes his way to our bed, "I also believe in you. I'm proud of and grateful for the life we've built together."
Now he's on the bed, leaning over me, scattered beads of water falling from his hair onto my chest. The sight of him, his scent, the anticipation of touch and taste...
"Besides, my Treize... I can't bear another December without you."
Sleep can wait.
***
December 18, AC 198
There are so many words I can use to describe my love. Beautiful. Exotic. Intelligent. Honest. Sensual.
At six in the morning, however, only one word comes to mind.
Cranky.
Usually I can coax Wufei into a more pleasant state of mind: all it takes is a leisurely bout of morning sex, followed by a full pot of his favorite green tea.
Sadly for both of us, his friends have other plans. Duo pounded on our bedroom door incessantly; it sounded like a woodpecker on speed.
"Wu-chan! What kind of host are you? I'm starrrvinng!"
My Solitary Dragon was more like a Hibernating Dragon. He simply burrowed deeper under the covers, dragged a pillow over his head and ignored them.
With a deep sigh I rose from our bed, pulling on my dressing gown, and went to greet our guests. As I slowly opened the door, Duo burst through, heading straight for Wufei.
"I wouldn't do that, Duo," I suggested. "He keeps a sword by the bed."
Quatre blushed, Trowa (to my surprise) sniggered, and Duo's face lit up with glee.
"Wufei, you sneaky bastard! I had no idea you were so kinky! It's always the ones you least expect..."
One onyx eye surfaced, glaring at us; I'm glad the guttural sounds Wufei issued were unintelligible, because I'm sure they were highly uncomplimentary of me, the pilots, and our ancestors.
I had to take control of the situation before things got out of hand. I could see Wufei's arm slowly moving toward the sword. There was a one-in-five chance it would soon be heading towards myself. So I ushered the pilots out of our bedroom, directing them into the kitchen. If I was lucky, Wufei would appear within an hour.
I've faced the dangers of battle, machinations within Romafeller and Lady Une without her medication: I could survive coffee with the Gundam pilots.
I never knew I was such an optimist.
Still, considering our history, things did go better than I expected. No death threats, sharp objects thrown, or even shouting. Just a quiet, tense discussion that basically came down to this:
1. If I ever hurt Wufei, I will die in the slowest, most excruciatingly torturous way possible.
2. While the past three years have gone well, remnants of White Fang and Oz are still a threat to peace between Earth and the Colonies. Treize Kushrenada is dead, and he must stay that way.
As far as I am concerned, we are in agreement. Wufei is the bright, avenging scholar-warrior who challenged me not only to a duel, but also to re-think my motives and actions. His courage and integrity shone through, even during his darkest hours of self-doubt and confusion. I see him as a kindred spirit, my trusted friend, my enduring lover. I will *not* hurt him.
Treize Kushrenada, the General, the politician, died with the war, and I am a better man for it.
I like to think these young men can perceive the honesty and determination in my words, but it will take time to gain their trust.
***
December 21, AC 198
The last four days have blurred together, a whirlwind of decorating, shopping, food and entertainment. I've spent more on food for the six of us so far than I did for Wufei and I the previous month.
It has been very pleasant, with only a few awkward, tense moments. I certainly expected more anger from the pilots, confrontations over past events. It seems I have underestimated the maturity and ability to forgive these fine young men possess; or maybe they just love Wufei that much.
But perhaps they have been distracted by the Chang-Maxwell war.
Wufei has described to me in great detail past incidents with Duo Maxwell, but it is another thing to see them in person. I have followed Quatre's excellent advice and let them go at it without interference.
So far Wufei has ruined three pairs of his traditional white pants: once when he opened what he thought was a soda and instead was hit by an explosion of paint, the second to the hundreds of moths Duo released while Wufei was taking a nap, and the third Duo took a laundry marker to.
I thought the "space for rent" slogan was rather clever.
Wufei, however, is winning this war: first he managed to drop five pounds of flour on the American's head (said he needed that much to cover the entire braid); added a 'special ingredient' to Duo's laundry detergent, turning every black item of clothing a dull gray; and added vinegar to the sourdough bread Duo inhaled last night ("It's called *sour* dough, baka! It's *supposed* to taste like that!")
Wufei's most recent prank, though, was the best: I don't see how Maxwell can top this one. We were working our way through some of the more... exotic bars on Castro street a few hours ago, at Duo's insistence: Quatre was not the only one blushing over the flamboyance; the red on Heero's face clashed dreadfully with his green tanktop.
Duo had just finished his fifth beer of the night when *she* appeared.
Relena Peacecraft? Soft, golden hair. Long, slender legs. Pretty in pink.
Then the music began, and she headed straight for Heero, who was riveted to the spot. She looked him over, up and down, grabbed him by the tank top and pushed him away.
"Move it, spandex boy. I need a *real* man."
Then she faced Duo, who was stunned into silence, and lowered herself onto his lap. She shifted slowly, grinding against his pelvis, moving her face towards the helpless man, reaching in for a kiss.
Duo's face was twisted with horror, eyes unnaturally wide, his breathing shallow and labored.
The kiss was a quick, innocent peck on the cheek, then she leaned back, looking extremely amused.
As the shock slowly faded, we all started to look at her more carefully, taking in details we missed earlier. The unusual amount of makeup on that normally bare face. The heavier bone structure. The five o'clock shadow.
*He* wasn't Relena Peacecraft.
Trowa, Quatre and I broke out in laughter. Heero was trying not to laugh, but couldn't do it; within moments his voice joined with ours.
Wufei was laughing and crying so hard, I thought he would hyperventilate. His body shook as he handed the transvestite a large wad of cash, barely able to thank the man through his laughter.
Poor Duo was shaking as well, though not from laughter; his subdued, "Can we leave now?" brought another round of laughter from us all. Wufei pulled him out of his chair and gave him a strong, comforting hug. Arm in arm, they staggered out the door into the dark.
Wufei is very lucky. He has few friends, but the ones he has are worth their weight in gold. The five of them are different in so many ways, yet they are alike in the most important ways: dependable, honest and true.
I'm not their enemy anymore; I hope someday we can be friends.
***
December 22, AC 198
For the first time since they arrived, I managed to go out on my own. It felt strange; I'm quickly becoming accustomed to and enjoying their company.
Duo is a whirlwind of personality, bright and charming and *loud*. Heero is far more interesting than I had anticipated: I enjoy debating current events with him, and he has a sly sense of humor that emerges on occasion. Quatre is as warmhearted and courteous as Wufei led me to believe, but I sense beneath the surface is a core of steel. Trowa is the biggest surprise to me: at first observance he is a seemingly shy, withdrawn young man. But once he feels comfortable, his casual, friendly side emerges. In addition, he is the only man besides Wufei to ever beat me at chess.
But some things must be done alone; only three days to Christmas, and I had presents to buy. I hope this gesture doesn't come across as presumptuous, or even an attempt at bribery. I genuinely like Wufei's friends.
Besides, without knowing it, they have given me the most wonderful gift. Their acceptance of our relationship has been everything to Wufei: he has been incredibly happy and relaxed, free of all tension and doubt.
I also needed to find something special for my Dragon, the other half of my soul. It took most of the day, but I think I've managed to do very well.
***
December 24, AC 198
The early morning hours have been a frenzy of last minute gift wrapping. I can hear Duo clearly from down the hall, instructing Heero on the fine art of ribbon curling. Quatre dragged Trowa into the kitchen to make coffee; I suspect it was to keep him from shaking his Christmas presents.
Like Duo said, it's always the ones you don't expect...
Wufei is the only one not involved in some last-minute activity. In fact, he's the only one still sleeping, happily sprawled across our bed.
He completed his shopping and gift wrapping two days ago. I hate organized people. They make the rest of us look bad.
Hopefully Duo managed to booby-trap his present.
Wufei's not the only one who can be cranky in the morning.
The others will be returning to their homes this afternoon, so we exchange gifts after breakfast. Time to wake Wufei.
I do *so* enjoy this part of the morning. I hope Quatre's also making tea...
***
December 24, AC 198 - Second entry
Heero and his damned sense of humor.
"So... did anyone else think Treize would be the screamer in their relationship?"
After Duo, Trowa, Quatre and Wufei picked their jaws up off the floor, and my blush stopped matching my haircolor, we proceeded into the living room to open presents.
Or, as Duo likes to call it, "search and destroy." Considering Duo and Wufei each sabotaged the wrapping on the other's present, it was an appropriate description. Well, *I* thought the carpet needed replacing anyway.
I think everyone enjoyed the presents I got them: Heero actually nodded approvingly at his computer software, while Duo shrieked to the high heavens at the sight of the "Lord of the Rings" movie trilogy he received. Trowa seemed quietly impressed with the chess set he opened, and Quatre quite happy with classical sheet music from the late 19th century.
And Wufei... Wufei actually cried after opening the velvet box that contained his present, no matter how hotly he denies it later. I could barely hold back my own tears.
From the box emerged a fine gold chain; the attached charm was an intricately designed dragon with tiny onyx-studded eyes. The others were impressed with the gift, but didn't understand the reason for tears. I did; they couldn't see inside the box, which contained another present, the best gift of all. A symbol of love, faith and commitment: two gleaming gold bands.
With shaking hands and steadfast hearts, we put them on. The shine on the rings paled compared to the happiness in our eyes.
***
December 25, AC 198
The house seems so quiet now. The only sound is the scratching of pen across paper and Wufei's soft breaths. So much beauty in the small things in life.
I will miss the rowdiness of our guests, yet once again rejoice in moments alone with my dragon.
It has been decided to meet three times a year, instead of just one. Wufei and I will join the others at the Yuy-Maxwell home in a few short months.
Duo Maxwell. April 1st. I shudder at the thought. Wufei is already planning...
Time to close the chapter on this year. Yes, there is still another week, but what else is there to record?
Merry Christmas, Wufei. I love you.
Treize Kushrenada
The end!
***
Author: Ann
Rating: R. Yaoi is implied, mention of drinking, a cuss word or two, a kiss.
Notes: 13 x 5 pairing; presumed 1 x 2 and 3 x 4, though not active in this story. Mostly canon through the final battle, then AU (no Mariemaia, no EW). OCC, probably too sappy for my own good, but the holidays are coming up, so be nice. Gundam pilots are now 19, Treize 28. Treize POV.
Archive: Ask, and ye shall receive. Feedback: Ann89103@lvcm.com
Soft, warming, peaceful mood music while writing: Linkin Park. I'm strange. Deal with it. <g>
***
December 5, AC 198
Another bittersweet December.
Almost every momentous event in my life, for good or bad, has taken place then. My birth. My first kiss. Acceptance into the Academy. The death of my parents. Becoming General of Oz. That final battle. My "death."
I've always been a reflective, brooding man behind the mask of the gracious aristocrat. Even with thousands of soldiers eager to follow my every command, conniving politicians currying my favor, and an obsessive woman seeking to warm my bed, I managed to keep them all distant and protect my solitude.
Only a Solitary Dragon could break down the walls. Chang Wufei, my proud, fiery love, has done that and more. I am blessed beyond words; I could not ask for a better life.
But it is December, and he's not here. Every December he leaves, joining the other former Gundam pilots for a reunion. He needs this time with his friends: every January he returns with renewed smiles and tales of his latest practical-joke wars with Duo Maxwell. Those smiles are worth every moment of separation. So we celebrated my birthday yesterday--28, hard to believe--and today I sent him off to his friends.
In the meantime, I have four weeks to myself. So now I find myself writing in this journal. On the couch next to me are some of my favorite novels. A bottle of my favorite burgundy rests on an end table. The gentle, soothing sounds of Mendelssohn's "A Midsummer Night's Dream: Overture" flow through the room.
All that is missing are roses. And Wufei.
Another bittersweet December.
***
December 10, AC 198
It took all of five days for the books, music and wine to pale. Time for something different. So I put on a warm sweater, jeans, hiking boots and a coat, and went for a walk.
When I was at Romafeller, I could never go anywhere alone. There was always a security detail following my every step. Even in quiet times, Lady Une would be hovering around a corner, trying to anticipate my needs.
Now there's no Romafeller, Lady Une has found another focus in the Preventers, and I can enjoy the simple, greater pleasures of my new life. Pleasures that include the chilled, crisp air that surrounds and fills me as I walk the narrow streets of Russian Hill, heading towards Fisherman's Wharf.
It still amazes (and humbles) me that I can, as Wufei puts it, "hide in plain sight." Almost three years living in a comfortable neighborhood in San Francisco, yet no one has recognized me.
Of course, no one is looking for a dead man. And I *do* look different. Maybe it's because I've let my hair grow out; it is almost shoulder-length now, nearly as long as Wufei's. It could be because I now keep my eyebrows trimmed, hiding that distinguishing characteristic. Or maybe the clothes *do* make the man: I certainly prefer the comfort of sweaters and jeans to that constricting straightjacket of an Oz uniform.
Wufei says it is because I am at peace. I think he is right.
***
December 16, AC 198
My parents died eleven years ago today.
My mother was a wonderful woman, loving and kind. My father could never be so demonstrative, but he was everything I wanted to be: intelligent, cultured and strong. With their deaths, I was left with distant, grasping relatives only concerned with wealth and power. It was a terribly lonely time.
When I finally told Wufei about my parents, I insisted that this day never be mentioned again. No reminders, no commiseration: I wanted to be left alone.
All he did was pull me close, enveloping me in a gentle hug. He pulled back slightly after a few minutes, large expressive eyes soft with compassion and understanding, bright with unshed tears. I barely heard the soft, "As you wish, Treize."
I was wrong. I wish he would call.
I wish he was here.
***
December 17, AC 198
I woke up this morning to a world full of pain. A massive hangover will do that to a person.
I deserve the pain. I have built a new, satisfying life out of the ashes of war, yet each December I fall prey to bouts of depression and self-pity. It's pathetic.
In my mind I can hear Wufei saying, "It is weak!"
The world may not know me anymore, but I *am* Treize Kushrenada. I have things to do.
***
December 17, AC 198 - Second entry
I haven't been this tired in a while. A good exhaustion.
The living room is a mess. The couch, loveseat and end tables have been pushed back against one wall. The coffee table has been moved across the room, a comfortable distance removed from the fireplace.
A seven-foot tall Christmas tree now rests near the bay window. A haphazard array of colorful packages lay nearby, bursting with ornaments, tinsel and lights.
So much to do, so little time.
I still need to go grocery shopping, plus find the perfect gifts for Wufei.
I can't help but laugh; Wufei will think I've lost my mind. We've never had a Christmas together: that first December I spent in a hospital under an assumed name, recovering from our mech battle. His first exposure to Christmas was two years ago, when Duo Maxwell hosted their first reunion.
Wufei returned to me that January with so many questions: what does Santa Claus have to do with the birth of Christ? If all good children were to receive presents, why didn't they on L5? And how do those tiny reindeer manage to carry all those presents and the (his words, not mine) big fat man?
I don't think he completely understands the holiday yet, but he will. When he returns in two weeks, we will celebrate Christmas in January.
Peace on Earth. That's worth celebrating every day. I know that now.
Someone's at the door. Hopefully it will be the carolers who came down our street last year. Such bright, cheerful, friendly faces...
***
December 17, AC 198 - Third entry
I am still in shock. It just wasn't possible. There he stood, eyes lit with a nervous excitement, cheeks flushed, that shy smile that melts my heart with every appearance.
Wufei. My dragon.
Within seconds he was pulled into my arms, and I was swinging him in wild circles within our living room, barely missing the Christmas tree more than once. Then I was pressing sweet, breathy kisses all over his face before sweeping in for that moment of magic: that first tender reunion of lips, a kiss born of passion, longing and love.
I pulled back slightly, both of us gasping for much-needed air, when I heard the heavy thud of baggage hitting the floor. Turning towards the source of the sound, I got my second surprise of the night: it wasn't nearly as pleasant as the first.
Before me stood the other Gundam pilots. Heero Yuy's cobalt eyes should have burned a hole in my head, given the intensity of his stare. His right hand twitched minutely, as though wanting to reach for a weapon. To his left, Duo Maxwell wore a cheerful grin... one that reminded me of wolves with cornered prey. Beside Duo stood Trowa Barton. He studied me intently: silent, steady, through. Quatre Rebarba Winner was the only relaxed one, favoring me with a small, but pleasant smile. Now *that* made me nervous.
Even in my darkest hours, I am exceedingly polite. Mere moments after taking in their presence, I was the perfect host. Walking over to Yuy, I extended my right hand.
"Welcome to our home, Heero Yuy."
I honestly believe the young man didn't know whether to deck me or shake my hand. He had help in making his decision, though, from Wufei.
From my right side came what can only be described as a low, menacing growl. Everyone turned to face Wufei, and everyone flinched.
Wufei simply glared at us all. Not his usual heated "I'm displeased with your behavior" glare, which I'm sure Maxwell and I are most used to seeing. No, this was more of a steely "you will disport yourselves with dignity and honor, or I will run you through" glare combined with a mournful "I expected better from one I consider a valued, true friend" glare.
Mere mortals could not withstand such power. Heero shook my hand, as did his friends, without further incident.
Well, except for when Duo Maxwell goosed me. Wufei merely smiled at his friend, then turned and winked at me.
I've lived with Wufei for almost three years now. The dazzling boy I met that held such promise has matured into a confident, generous, intelligent young man... with a wild streak.
Wufei is on his home turf now. Maxwell's not going to know what hit him. This should be amusing.
That will come later, I'm sure. We finally got everyone settled in the other two bedrooms, and once Wufei finishes his shower, we can get some rest.
Another momentous December event. I'm completely exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. I can't wait to relax into sleep, holding my dragon for the first time in far too long.
Wufei emerges from the bathroom, white towel slung low on bronzed hips, hair damp and loose, shining eyes full of hunger and need.
Still, I have to know. "Wufei... why are they here? Why are *you* here?" My voice seems to echo through the room.
Again, that shy, endearing smile. Gods, I love him so much.
"Because I love you, and I won't hide you. You always thought it would be better for me to keep our life a secret, and you feared my friends would turn on me. Well, true friends don't cut and run during the tough times, and I believe in my friends."
What an amazing man.
"Treize," he continues as he makes his way to our bed, "I also believe in you. I'm proud of and grateful for the life we've built together."
Now he's on the bed, leaning over me, scattered beads of water falling from his hair onto my chest. The sight of him, his scent, the anticipation of touch and taste...
"Besides, my Treize... I can't bear another December without you."
Sleep can wait.
***
December 18, AC 198
There are so many words I can use to describe my love. Beautiful. Exotic. Intelligent. Honest. Sensual.
At six in the morning, however, only one word comes to mind.
Cranky.
Usually I can coax Wufei into a more pleasant state of mind: all it takes is a leisurely bout of morning sex, followed by a full pot of his favorite green tea.
Sadly for both of us, his friends have other plans. Duo pounded on our bedroom door incessantly; it sounded like a woodpecker on speed.
"Wu-chan! What kind of host are you? I'm starrrvinng!"
My Solitary Dragon was more like a Hibernating Dragon. He simply burrowed deeper under the covers, dragged a pillow over his head and ignored them.
With a deep sigh I rose from our bed, pulling on my dressing gown, and went to greet our guests. As I slowly opened the door, Duo burst through, heading straight for Wufei.
"I wouldn't do that, Duo," I suggested. "He keeps a sword by the bed."
Quatre blushed, Trowa (to my surprise) sniggered, and Duo's face lit up with glee.
"Wufei, you sneaky bastard! I had no idea you were so kinky! It's always the ones you least expect..."
One onyx eye surfaced, glaring at us; I'm glad the guttural sounds Wufei issued were unintelligible, because I'm sure they were highly uncomplimentary of me, the pilots, and our ancestors.
I had to take control of the situation before things got out of hand. I could see Wufei's arm slowly moving toward the sword. There was a one-in-five chance it would soon be heading towards myself. So I ushered the pilots out of our bedroom, directing them into the kitchen. If I was lucky, Wufei would appear within an hour.
I've faced the dangers of battle, machinations within Romafeller and Lady Une without her medication: I could survive coffee with the Gundam pilots.
I never knew I was such an optimist.
Still, considering our history, things did go better than I expected. No death threats, sharp objects thrown, or even shouting. Just a quiet, tense discussion that basically came down to this:
1. If I ever hurt Wufei, I will die in the slowest, most excruciatingly torturous way possible.
2. While the past three years have gone well, remnants of White Fang and Oz are still a threat to peace between Earth and the Colonies. Treize Kushrenada is dead, and he must stay that way.
As far as I am concerned, we are in agreement. Wufei is the bright, avenging scholar-warrior who challenged me not only to a duel, but also to re-think my motives and actions. His courage and integrity shone through, even during his darkest hours of self-doubt and confusion. I see him as a kindred spirit, my trusted friend, my enduring lover. I will *not* hurt him.
Treize Kushrenada, the General, the politician, died with the war, and I am a better man for it.
I like to think these young men can perceive the honesty and determination in my words, but it will take time to gain their trust.
***
December 21, AC 198
The last four days have blurred together, a whirlwind of decorating, shopping, food and entertainment. I've spent more on food for the six of us so far than I did for Wufei and I the previous month.
It has been very pleasant, with only a few awkward, tense moments. I certainly expected more anger from the pilots, confrontations over past events. It seems I have underestimated the maturity and ability to forgive these fine young men possess; or maybe they just love Wufei that much.
But perhaps they have been distracted by the Chang-Maxwell war.
Wufei has described to me in great detail past incidents with Duo Maxwell, but it is another thing to see them in person. I have followed Quatre's excellent advice and let them go at it without interference.
So far Wufei has ruined three pairs of his traditional white pants: once when he opened what he thought was a soda and instead was hit by an explosion of paint, the second to the hundreds of moths Duo released while Wufei was taking a nap, and the third Duo took a laundry marker to.
I thought the "space for rent" slogan was rather clever.
Wufei, however, is winning this war: first he managed to drop five pounds of flour on the American's head (said he needed that much to cover the entire braid); added a 'special ingredient' to Duo's laundry detergent, turning every black item of clothing a dull gray; and added vinegar to the sourdough bread Duo inhaled last night ("It's called *sour* dough, baka! It's *supposed* to taste like that!")
Wufei's most recent prank, though, was the best: I don't see how Maxwell can top this one. We were working our way through some of the more... exotic bars on Castro street a few hours ago, at Duo's insistence: Quatre was not the only one blushing over the flamboyance; the red on Heero's face clashed dreadfully with his green tanktop.
Duo had just finished his fifth beer of the night when *she* appeared.
Relena Peacecraft? Soft, golden hair. Long, slender legs. Pretty in pink.
Then the music began, and she headed straight for Heero, who was riveted to the spot. She looked him over, up and down, grabbed him by the tank top and pushed him away.
"Move it, spandex boy. I need a *real* man."
Then she faced Duo, who was stunned into silence, and lowered herself onto his lap. She shifted slowly, grinding against his pelvis, moving her face towards the helpless man, reaching in for a kiss.
Duo's face was twisted with horror, eyes unnaturally wide, his breathing shallow and labored.
The kiss was a quick, innocent peck on the cheek, then she leaned back, looking extremely amused.
As the shock slowly faded, we all started to look at her more carefully, taking in details we missed earlier. The unusual amount of makeup on that normally bare face. The heavier bone structure. The five o'clock shadow.
*He* wasn't Relena Peacecraft.
Trowa, Quatre and I broke out in laughter. Heero was trying not to laugh, but couldn't do it; within moments his voice joined with ours.
Wufei was laughing and crying so hard, I thought he would hyperventilate. His body shook as he handed the transvestite a large wad of cash, barely able to thank the man through his laughter.
Poor Duo was shaking as well, though not from laughter; his subdued, "Can we leave now?" brought another round of laughter from us all. Wufei pulled him out of his chair and gave him a strong, comforting hug. Arm in arm, they staggered out the door into the dark.
Wufei is very lucky. He has few friends, but the ones he has are worth their weight in gold. The five of them are different in so many ways, yet they are alike in the most important ways: dependable, honest and true.
I'm not their enemy anymore; I hope someday we can be friends.
***
December 22, AC 198
For the first time since they arrived, I managed to go out on my own. It felt strange; I'm quickly becoming accustomed to and enjoying their company.
Duo is a whirlwind of personality, bright and charming and *loud*. Heero is far more interesting than I had anticipated: I enjoy debating current events with him, and he has a sly sense of humor that emerges on occasion. Quatre is as warmhearted and courteous as Wufei led me to believe, but I sense beneath the surface is a core of steel. Trowa is the biggest surprise to me: at first observance he is a seemingly shy, withdrawn young man. But once he feels comfortable, his casual, friendly side emerges. In addition, he is the only man besides Wufei to ever beat me at chess.
But some things must be done alone; only three days to Christmas, and I had presents to buy. I hope this gesture doesn't come across as presumptuous, or even an attempt at bribery. I genuinely like Wufei's friends.
Besides, without knowing it, they have given me the most wonderful gift. Their acceptance of our relationship has been everything to Wufei: he has been incredibly happy and relaxed, free of all tension and doubt.
I also needed to find something special for my Dragon, the other half of my soul. It took most of the day, but I think I've managed to do very well.
***
December 24, AC 198
The early morning hours have been a frenzy of last minute gift wrapping. I can hear Duo clearly from down the hall, instructing Heero on the fine art of ribbon curling. Quatre dragged Trowa into the kitchen to make coffee; I suspect it was to keep him from shaking his Christmas presents.
Like Duo said, it's always the ones you don't expect...
Wufei is the only one not involved in some last-minute activity. In fact, he's the only one still sleeping, happily sprawled across our bed.
He completed his shopping and gift wrapping two days ago. I hate organized people. They make the rest of us look bad.
Hopefully Duo managed to booby-trap his present.
Wufei's not the only one who can be cranky in the morning.
The others will be returning to their homes this afternoon, so we exchange gifts after breakfast. Time to wake Wufei.
I do *so* enjoy this part of the morning. I hope Quatre's also making tea...
***
December 24, AC 198 - Second entry
Heero and his damned sense of humor.
"So... did anyone else think Treize would be the screamer in their relationship?"
After Duo, Trowa, Quatre and Wufei picked their jaws up off the floor, and my blush stopped matching my haircolor, we proceeded into the living room to open presents.
Or, as Duo likes to call it, "search and destroy." Considering Duo and Wufei each sabotaged the wrapping on the other's present, it was an appropriate description. Well, *I* thought the carpet needed replacing anyway.
I think everyone enjoyed the presents I got them: Heero actually nodded approvingly at his computer software, while Duo shrieked to the high heavens at the sight of the "Lord of the Rings" movie trilogy he received. Trowa seemed quietly impressed with the chess set he opened, and Quatre quite happy with classical sheet music from the late 19th century.
And Wufei... Wufei actually cried after opening the velvet box that contained his present, no matter how hotly he denies it later. I could barely hold back my own tears.
From the box emerged a fine gold chain; the attached charm was an intricately designed dragon with tiny onyx-studded eyes. The others were impressed with the gift, but didn't understand the reason for tears. I did; they couldn't see inside the box, which contained another present, the best gift of all. A symbol of love, faith and commitment: two gleaming gold bands.
With shaking hands and steadfast hearts, we put them on. The shine on the rings paled compared to the happiness in our eyes.
***
December 25, AC 198
The house seems so quiet now. The only sound is the scratching of pen across paper and Wufei's soft breaths. So much beauty in the small things in life.
I will miss the rowdiness of our guests, yet once again rejoice in moments alone with my dragon.
It has been decided to meet three times a year, instead of just one. Wufei and I will join the others at the Yuy-Maxwell home in a few short months.
Duo Maxwell. April 1st. I shudder at the thought. Wufei is already planning...
Time to close the chapter on this year. Yes, there is still another week, but what else is there to record?
Merry Christmas, Wufei. I love you.
Treize Kushrenada
The end!
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