31-Aug-2001
Title: Chasing the Crown, an Extended Family Fic
ExFam Authors:
RavynFyre - ravynfyre@hotmail.com
von - sablexo1@yahoo.com
bonnejeanne - bonnejeanne@yahoo.com
*Special Guest Writer! Nixie the Pixie!*
Nixers - Nixerchan@aol.com
Category: yaoi, AU
Rating: NC-17 for now, that will change
Pairings: 1+2+5, 3+4, 13x6
Spoilers: Series, Endless Waltz, Mission: Arcadia
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing characters and universe are the property of the copyright owners.
Kenny, Duan, Wufan, Tryan, Carter, Jack and the Ripper, and everything relating to Rip & Jack's universe are ours. No money being made here.
Feedback: Any and all comments, feedback, critiques welcome, be they short or long.
Please feel free to direct feedback to any or all of the authors!
WARNINGS: AU (Alternate Universe), Original Characters, LEMON in some sections. Kiddie-Angst.
LEMON WARNING this section!
A quiet knock on the door interrupted the battle between the sort of settled numbness that accompanied the repetition of filling out any sort of standardized form, in this case a Preventer's report promised to Une, and the conscious need for discretion for the time being.
Rubbing away the mental and visual blurriness that the effort had conjured up, Zechs moved to answer the door, mentally musing that the entrance had gotten more traffic these past few days than in the last month.
On the other side, a retainer in a subdued gray uniform was waiting patiently. With a nod and a polite greeting, the man handed Zechs a small folded note before departing to carry on with the day's more regular duties.
There was no addressee on the outside of the note, and the inside had been written in a printed block script that was as anonymous as a computer printout, and not signed. It simply said:
'Milliardo, recent events have stirred restless spirits from their graves. As one who understands this most intimately, perhaps you would do me the courtesy of meeting with me in the sub-basement mobile suit bay to discuss the implications of this for the future.'
Still halfway in the hallway, a crease ran deeply between golden eyebrows as Zechs scanned the note again quickly. Everything from suspicions of a bad joke to a challenge collided at the implications and most particularly the phrasings. In its place was a certain distant click as a line of hints, hesitations and avoidances that had been played out around him snapped into what seemed like an irrational conclusion in the face of a familiar voice imbedded in anonymous handwriting.
Barely aware of having shut the door behind him, Zechs refolded the note as he retraced the steps to the lift he had taken the children to on the first day, only enough of his mind on the hallways in front of him to keep from any run-ins with the occasional staff and lingering guest. The rest of his attention, from the abandoned suite to the quick keying of the access to the lower levels, was involved in methodically rationalizing away a growing possibility two years gone.
The doors to the lift opened with a faint hiss, revealing the abandoned bay, as empty as it had been a scant day and a half ago when he'd given the precocious children a tour of it. The biggest difference between then and now, however, was that most of the overhead lighting that was usually left on had been shut off, plunging the spacious cavern into gloom. A few odd lights dispelled enough of the darkness to allow Zechs to maneuver throughout the bay without needing to worry about watching his footing, though they did little to dispel the deathly quiet sepulchral feeling.
In the center of the bay, a single floodlight had been left at full intensity, illuminating a small object lying patiently on the cold floor. Despite the garish glare of the harsh light, the soft crimson petals of the rose shone like brushed velvet.
His one footstep forward echoed inordinately loudly in the cavernous room. The scene was almost too surreal in the face of the repeating jarrings of a rather hard reality that day, but dreamlike didn't equate with undesired.
Blue eyes tried to pierce the surrounding darkness as another more deliberate step was taken, putting the tall man on even footing.
There is a certain type of silence, that one knows is supposed to have some even minute disruption, that actually hurts the ears. Having strained for both sight and sound, but unwilling to break it himself, Zechs walked slowly, deliberately towards the sole, clearly illuminated area of the bay.
Kneeling in a single, smooth motion, his fingers paused before curling around the stem of the offered flower. Rising just as quickly, he didn't look back up. "If you aren't who I suspect, for your own sake, I hope you came armed," he said quietly, not needing to raise his voice for it to carry.
"Then for both our sakes, I pray your suspicion was correct," a smoothly cultured voice rose out of the darkness before Zechs. A whisper of cloth accompanied a shadow as it disengaged itself from one of the massive support pillars and paced slowly forward, pausing at the edge of the flood of light. "I thought to return your gesture from yesterday afternoon."
At the first syllable, Zechs' eyes had slid shut. His thumb brushed against the mixture of coarse leaf and velvet petal that composed the edge of the bloom. "It seems it's no longer needed," he said, no trace of censure in his voice. "Where have you been?" the continuation almost inaudible.
"Awaiting my chance to set the world back on a course that was never my right to dictate," Treize replied, taking the last step out into the light. His hands were shoved deeply into the pockets of the dark charcoal gray trench coat he wore over tan slacks and a soft blue shirt, though his expression was as calm and collected as ever, even with the faintest hint of wariness that hovered around the corners of Treize's blue eyes. "I had not intended any of this, Milliardo," he said quietly as he studied the other man's face intently. "But it has come to my attention that my intentions were somewhat selfish. I... Forgive me, Milliardo."
"I can't forgive what I can't find fault in anymore," Zechs said, opening his eyes to take in the former Oz leader at last. Something visible changed behind his eyes as the reality finally, upon sight, became irrefutable. Zechs gave a half smile as his eyes met Treize's. "You haven't lost your flare for the dramatic."
"Nor you your integrity," Treize replied, his lips parted slightly in quiet yearning as he drank in the sight of the blond Preventer. "You haven't been sleeping," he observed with a hint of hesitance.
"Still that obvious?" Zechs asked rhetorically. "It's been better recently." The blond returned the regard, as many observations leaving a hollow as they filled. "You haven't been taking much better care."
"I... didn't have much incentive," Treize admitted slowly, "Until I woke up. But my life is not wholly my own anymore."
A flash of unfocused anger passed over the blond's face quickly, settling into something more subdued. It took a moment for Zechs to arrange the sentiment clearly. "For the past year I have been handed excuses from strangers and friends alike, and if I accepted any of them, I might believe the same... As long as you breathe, your life is your own. I refuse to believe otherwise."
Treize shook his head gently, pacing forward to close the distance between them until he could reach up with one faintly trembling hand to brush fingertips across Zechs' cheek. "You do not have a daughter," he whispered, though there was a flash of something unnamable within Treize's eyes, and the unspoken "yet" hung in the air between them.
At the light touch, the response was a heartbeat away from automatic. The distance closed naturally to a few scant inches as the taller man's arms curved around Treize, hands pressed flat against the other's back. "She is wonderful, you know," Zechs said, head tucked and emotion clouding his usually clear voice.
Treize inhaled sharply, his arms circling around to crush Zechs to him desperately even as his eyes slid shut. "So I've heard," he murmured into the soft fall of platinum hair pressed to his cheek. Taking another deep breath, his voice fell to a bare whisper, almost lost in the silence, save for their closeness. "Death is so lonely, Milliardo." His grip suddenly loosened as he reluctantly began disentangling himself. "I have no right..."
The fingers against Treize's back curled immediately into the fabric of the trench coat. "Neither do I," came the reply, no more audible than Treize's first statement, "But I don't care."
"Oh Milliardo," Treize breathed, his hold tightening around the other man once more even as he buried his face in the silver-gold silk of Zechs' hair to hide the unbidden tears sliding down his cheeks. "I don't want to be dead anymore, Milliardo. But I don't think I could live without you. Not again. Not anymore."
Zechs' arms tightened once, involuntarily, close enough that Treize could feel the hitch in the other's breathing, before they relaxed their hold. One hand dropped to rest on Treize arm as the other lifted finding the aristocrat's face, trailing fingertips along the jawbone, absorbed in a sensation that should have been in his dreams. Zechs shook his head, not taking his gaze from the other's. "Never again, if I can help it... some... mistakes are too big not to learn from."
The sense of dread and fear that had been turning Treize's stomach in knots drained from him in an overwhelming flush of relief and a surge of something he hadn't felt in over two years: Hope. True and pure hope flooded through him as he gathered Zechs back into a tight embrace, surrendering his guilt and self-loathing to the quiet joy suffusing him. "Agreed," he choked out, swallowing back a soft sob. Taking a deep breath, he collected himself once more, steadying his voice. "I have been told," he murmured, "That we can be stronger together. Will you help me beat back the darkness threatening everything we worked for? Everything they worked for?"
As the blond Preventer drew back again, he brushed his lips against the other man's, fleeting but reverent. "A small thing to ask in the face of resurrection," he murmured. "I wou... couldn't go back now."
At the chaste kiss, Treize's eyes slipped shut, head bowing forward slightly as he committed the painfully brief moment to memory. "A larger favor to ask then," he mused quietly. "Ah. Perhaps we two could learn what fatherhood is about together..." Opening his eyes to gaze back upon Zechs, he contemplated the other man's words of 'resurrection'. "You haven't asked," he observed with slow deliberation.
"I've learned patience. It still feels so fragile, like to question, 'How?' would shatter a perfect daydream," Zechs confessed quietly, words hesitant as he picked them. As his thought turned to the 'larger favor,' Zechs was caught in a mix of expression. "It would certainly be learning... I've realized recently nothing if not that, along with even greater respect for the pilots... I am willing... if she will have me," he paused, then, "Does Une know yet?"
Treize shook his head. "You were the first," he answered, before frowning slightly and shaking his head again. "Fourth," he corrected himself, "Although it was the others who showed me the selfishness of my existence." He reached up, cradling Zechs' face between his hands gently, as if he was afraid to shatter an illusion, before leaning forward to press his lips to the blond Preventer's. Greatly daring, he deepened the kiss, slowly exploring the warm cavern of Zechs' mouth before finally pulling away to draw in a deep breath. "She may be more willing to have the man she's known than the father who'd forsaken her," he whispered sadly.
Lips still slightly parted from the kiss, Zechs' eyes snapped open as Treize spoke again. Catching one hand as it slipped from his face in his own, Zechs bowed his head slightly, a frown wrinkling the corners of his eyes. "Don't concede before you've tried. I had always thought... what she did was out of love."
Treize nodded thoughtfully. His free hand reached up and tipped Zechs' head back up with a single fingertip, allowing Treize's eyes to wander over the other man's features avidly. An expression of rapt wonder crossed his own face before he smiled, a knowing, confident half-smile from years gone by. "A question, perhaps, for tomorrow. Tonight, I wish... I wish to remain with you," he admitted hesitantly before his expression turned wry. "One last feast for the damned, in case Lady Une decides to lock me away in a fit of pique."
A soft laugh was surprised from the former Lightning Count. "I'd be forced to either bury her in a month's worth of paperwork or look up some battle station plans. One or the other," Zech replied, the mischief in the smirk reaching blue eyes. Tilting his head back down to reclaim the ginger-haired man's lips, one hand slipped back around Treize, curving with almost forgotten familiarity. The parting, when it had to happen, was only fractional. "The wish, however, is shared."
Treize allowed a half-smile that bordered on mischievous to flit across his features. "Paperwork is a far more dangerous threat. Even taking into consideration the construction time, the battle station would be over far too quickly and be much too merciful," he murmured, raising a hand to rest upon Zechs' cheek, fingers absently tracing idle patterns on the soft skin there.
"True," Zechs agreed, eyes only partially lidded. "But there is only one basic flaw in the plan. Over the years, the Lady picked up the idea of delegation somewhere along the way."
"Hmm. About time," Treize sighed softly. After a long moment, he broke the comfortable silence between them again. "Despite my... 'flair for the dramatic', as you put it, perhaps we should move this to someplace more... hospitable."
Zechs nodded slightly, one eyebrow raised despite himself. Breaking the contact with a reluctant hesitation, he regarded the two options: the cavernous room or exit, the second of which was not even that in his mind. "Out of curiosity, how did you get the message to the staff?"
Treize smiled secretively before leading Zechs toward the lift that would offer them the least traveled route back to Zechs' room. "That, my dear Milliardo, would be cheating."
The close of the doors nearly swallowed the blond man's snort. As the lift began to ascend, he shot Treize a look of feigned rebuke, given away by a glint in blue eyes. "Since when has fair factored into anything?"
Treize turned, wrapping Zechs into his arms and brushing his lips across the other's briefly. "Since the fates granted me another chance, undeserving as I am."
As the lift slowed and then stopped, Treize drew away reluctantly, though not withdrawing completely from Zechs' intimate space. "But I will become worthy of it. For you. For her. As long as I have you by my side... I have everything I need."
A little overwhelmed at the magnitude of the statement on a personal level, the Preventer had to absently catch the lift doors before they closed again. As they obediently slid back once more, Zechs took a quicker step forwards. Not immediately finding the words to break the silence that had seeped in around the edges, his hand brushed the back of the one belonging to the aristocrat. He then nodded, managing in a low tone, "No where else," before indicating a side passage connected at the end of the hallway.
It's a fallacy well told that the staff of any manor knows each and every nook and cranny, side passage and shortcut of their place of work. In truth, a thinly spread crew of two years residence didn't have anything on the past explorations of any young child bored out of his mind.
With a slight smile back at Treize, Zechs led a circumspect and deserted route back to the second floor and his own room, a small part of him taking an odd satisfaction in the covert route, and more particularly having a reason to use it. The reason itself still had him a little happily stunned, but he was recovering faster now that the past few days had given him a little experience in the world turning upside down.
As they arrived at Zechs' room, Treize entered quickly and stood to one side, watching the blond Preventer's face avidly, his normal calm and composure preventing his scrutiny from taking a step into near desperation for their more than two year separation, but it was a near thing. Darting a quick look towards the open balcony doors, he smiled minutely. A wine bottle and a pair of glasses sat expectantly on the tiny table just outside.
Following the former General's gaze, Zechs gave Treize a sidelong glance and a small laugh. "I'm afraid to ask how long you've had this planned out," he murmured softly, moving towards the terrace with an easy stride, intent on retrieving the offering that had appeared during his brief absence.
"Would you laugh if I said just barely under three hours?" Treize confessed in a low voice.
"Probably," Zechs replied lightly, returning with articles perched carefully in one arm, the other closing the open doors. Setting his burden on a high coffee table, he gestured to one of the nearby chairs, offering it to Treize as he pulled a second one up. That done, he turned an impish look on the other man as he sank into his own chair, "A good thing you haven't yet then."
Treize murmured an indistinct agreement, a wry smile twisting his lips as he continued, "Probably just as good not to mention how much of that three hours I paced the bay, then, trying to work up the courage to actually go through with it."
Before Zechs could respond, Treize padded gracefully over to where the blond Preventer sat, kneeling between Zechs' legs to reach up with both hands and cradle Zechs' face between them. Pressing forward, he left a reverent, worshipful kiss upon the younger man's brow, and then another on each closed eyelid before trailing down to Zechs' lips, which he probed gently.
Zechs gave entrance easily, eagerly, leaning forward into Treize's touch and warm mouth. He slid his own arms beneath Treize's upraised ones to curl behind and take their grip on the other's shoulders, pulling the man closer as the kiss deepened and intensified.
Without breaking contact, Treize's hands slowly slid down Zechs' throat, past his collarbone, to pause at the buttons of the blond Preventer's shirt. Drawing away only long enough to draw a swift breath before claiming the other man's lips again, Treize slowly began unbuttoning the shirt, pulling the bottom hem out until he could push the fabric up Zechs' shoulders and let his hands wander freely over flesh that had been forbidden him for far too long.
The blond gave up a noiseless breath of air against Treize's mouth. The hands on Treize's shoulders gripped once, faintly in response to the wandering touch before slackening, taking their own lingering decent down Treize's sides. Fingertips finding only the bulky fabric of the overcoat, Zechs pulled back from the kiss, taking a few rapid shallow breaths. "You are wearing too much," he said simply, blue eyes opening only the fraction necessary to guide his hand to push off the coat and work towards returning the favor.
"Just be thankful that it's not my old Oz uniform," Treize murmured quietly before bending forward to lap at the hollow of Zechs' throat.
Tilting his head back, his hands only fumbled for a split second, but the hitch of the other's breathing was more pronounced. "Gods," he whispered, before reclaiming his voice, "Damn things were tailored with chastity in mind," he agreed.
"Torture," Treize corrected in a mere whisper against Zechs' throat, "If it were truly chastity, then those pants of yours wouldn't have been so fetchingly tight." He settled slowly, working his way across Zechs' skin until he could take one nipple gently between his lips and worry it for a long moment before working his way over to the other.
A sharp intake of breath was the tall man's answer as coherency began to break up and drift away. Falling back against the back of the chair, Zechs momentarily gave up his chosen task. Back arched slightly in supplication, his hand found and ran through ginger hair with the gentle, absent strokes usually bestowed on a feline.
While Treize allowed himself to feast upon his blond lover, his hands continued their downward trek, finally settling upon the fastenings of Zechs' slacks. Shifting forward slightly, Treize slowly kissed his way back up to the hollow of Zechs' throat, lapping up the faint sheen of perspiration slowly surfacing, while his hands gently worked the fastenings loose.
The faint, feather-light touches of the aristocrat's slender fingers on the waistline of his pants, so close, too close, elicited a soft groan from the throat under the other man's attention, as a sharper wave of anticipatory heat flashed behind lidded eyes. Coaxing Treize up enough to capture his lips again, he tasted his own skin on the other's mouth. Zechs' hands slid down and up, not waiting to finish ridding Treize of his shirt before tracing, once more memorizing every inch of flesh that desperate, questing fingers could brush across.
Within his chest, Treize's heart began to hammer painfully, a mirror of the uncomfortable throb of his erection trapped within his own slacks. Sucking greedily upon Zechs' tongue, he wormed his hands within the confines of the other man's clothing until he could claim the radiant heat of the other's manhood within his grasp. At that first contact, he froze, hardly daring to breathe lest it all shatter like an iridescent bubble, a dream which, up until the night before, he'd truly thought was unattainable. When at last his lungs could stand their punishment no longer, and he sucked in a great breath that did not end up with Zechs vanishing like wisps of smoke on an errant breeze, Treize dared to begin stroking the blond Preventer gently.
For Zechs, the world funneled down into the curl of Treize's fingers and the rush of his heartbeat in his ears. After two years of only his own attentions, this most simple of intimate touches tattered his self-control far too quickly. His hand caught and wrapped around Treize's wrist, stilling his movement before the world threatened to shut down entirely. "Not yet," he managed, voice hoarse. Swallowing once, he fought to pull himself back from the edge. "Bed?"
"Oh yes, Milliardo," Treize breathed reverently, pulling away to rise shakily to his feet again. Trembling fingers closed around Zechs' wrist, urging him to his feet as well, only to be wrapped firmly in the aristocrat's arms and pulled in tight for a fierce kiss. Finally pulling his mouth away, Treize slowly pushed the unbuttoned shirt from Zechs' shoulders, eyes unconsciously watching as the fabric fluttered to the floor, before darting up to feast eagerly upon the other's features again. Returning his hands to Zechs' shoulders, the ginger-haired aristocrat slowly backed toward the immaculately made bed, expertly navigating around the room's other furnishings, despite never taking his eyes from his lover's face.
As the edge of the bed bumped the back of Treize's knees, Zechs' hands came up to mirror Treize's hold, this time pushing with a pronounced insistence where the other had pulled, until his former superior's back was flat upon the taut fabric of the thin blanket gracing the bed. Almost immediately, the blond settled himself above Treize, straddling him below the waist, hands quickly clearing the path for a hungry mouth, returned their deftness by Zechs' absolute concentration on the task.
Ice blue eyes fixed on the other man's face, drinking in every nuance and reaction to the work of fingers, lips and tongue as he moved with a deliberate leisure downwards, intent on stretching it for every precious moment.
A quiet groan broke from Treize's lips and his head fell back helplessly against the bed at Zechs' assault. Unconsciously, he kicked his shoes off, the quiet thumps as they hit the floor swallowed up by the harsh rasp of his quick, shallow gasps as he tried to drag air into his rapidly overheating body. His eyes slid shut and his hands stilled upon Zechs' shoulders as he gave himself up to the sensations the blond Preventer was awakening within him. Zechs' name slipped from his lips in a nearly silent whisper: a promise of forever and a helpless demand all at once.
Zechs stilled, eyes sliding shut at the single word, face unreadable as the three syllables sank in. Releasing a breath he hadn't realized he had captured, he put his hands to either side of Treize's prone form and leaned down, nose nuzzling once at the junction of the man's neck and collarbone before sliding upwards, pressing his lips once against Treize's. Another shift, and lips now beside the ginger-haired man's ears breathed the words, "Thank you," once, a reverent caress punctuating the quiet words.
Hands finding a life of their own once more, Treize's fingers traced idle patterns over the taut flesh of Zechs' chest before sliding down and around to rest at the base of the younger man's spine. "For what?" he asked in a whisper before turning to nuzzle the soft fall of platinum silk cascading over Zechs' shoulder.
The fall of silvery-blond hair retreated, out of reach, as Zechs pulled up and back, the expression on his long face somewhat torn before it dissipated with a slight edge of a half smile and a shaking of his head. "The list can wait," he murmured, lowering himself again, one hand idly seeking out the waistline of Treize's slacks, unfastening them as his mouth laid a trail across the other's chest.
Once again Treize's eyes slid shut, breath rushing from him in a startled exhalation as Zechs' fingers worked his pants loose. "I missed you so, Milliardo," he murmured as his hands slid down, pushing the other's pants as far as he could reach. "I waited for the day when I would be allowed to die, an end to the pain of living without you. Forgive my foolishness..."
"I didn't think you could. Even wit... even then," Zechs confessed. He almost absently finished ridding himself of his slacks, pausing briefly to remove the obstacle of his shoes. The rest of his attention was half focused inwardly, half upon the man laid out like a godsend across his bed. As he continued speaking, he peeled Treize's pants from him, hands tracing along the contours and lines of muscles as they were revealed by the slide of fabric. "It took too long to come to grips with you being... gone. I should have known..."
"I am as mortal as you," Treize murmured before his brain once again started shutting down in the face of the heat and desire Zechs was expertly coaxing from him. His breath hissed between his teeth, eyes tight shut and head thrown back against the bed once more as the other's seeking fingers happened upon a particularly sensitive spot. As one hand pressed against Zechs' spine, seeking to crush the younger man to him, the other trailed around and clasped the rigid flesh of Zechs' erection, continuing what he'd begun across the room.
To the side of Treize, Zechs' hand clawed a handful of blanket as his head dropped, golden hair fanning out around the both of them. Yielding to the urgings of the hand on his back, he let himself slip to one side, an arm still draped across Treize's length, taking as much skin to skin contact as he could, and hips pushing instinctively, without coherency against the hand that had suddenly brought the slow burn back into an inferno.
Eyes squeezed closed, Zechs free hand blindly sought retribution, reciprocation. Feathering an unsteady touch along the underside of Treize's erection, his fingers curled loosely, only deviating from the natural rhythm to linger on an oversensitive point, or pause, frozen, struck nerveless by the maddening attentions the other was giving him.
Treize groaned deep in his throat, his voice gone hoarse with the force of it and his breathing stuttering within his chest. The hand crushing Zechs to him trailed lower, barely tracing along the cleft below the other's spine before questing further to probe gently at the soft pucker of his lover's body. "I don't want to hurt you, Milliardo," he managed to whisper, both a promise and a request as he slowly explored the Preventer's body.
A low sound escaped from the back of the blonde's throat as he pushed back slightly against the other's hand. At the statement, Treize could literally see comprehension of the words slowly resurface in Zechs' eyes. The Preventer gave a growled curse. "I don't have anything," he said, "Wasn't expecting..."
A slow, languid smile spread across Treize's face as he nodded. "Neither was I," he replied, disentangling himself from Zechs and pulling away until he could slip from the bed. Padding over to the crumpled pile of grey trenchcoat lying on the floor, he delved into a pocket, withdrawing a tube, which he displayed almost proudly as he returned to the bed to climb up beside Zechs again. "Just call this... wishful anticipation," he said in a quiet voice, his lips caught in a smug, though almost hesitant, half-smile.
Leaning over again, he pressed himself to Zechs, claiming his mouth for a fierce, searching kiss. Urging slowly, he pressed forward until Zechs was no longer lying on his side, but stretched out on his back with Treize half-sprawled over him, chest to chest, pinning him to the bed. Bracing himself with one elbow, his other hand wandered back to its careful exploration, fingers now slick as they carefully prepared Zechs with gentle insistence.
Giving in without any struggle for dominance, the Preventer spread himself, unselfconsciously. Breathing through parted lips, Zechs' gazed unfocused, everything but Treize blurring away into nondescript background. As the sight and sensations added heat, it also fueled growing impatience. "Now." The word was stuck between an entreaty and a demand, both as needful.
Treize nodded, withdrawing his hand and reaching for the tube once more as he shifted himself over Zechs. Pausing only long enough to coat his aching erection with the lubricant, he reached down and grasped Zechs' hips, holding him steady as he pressed forward. A long, drawn out hiss of agreement and pleasure escaped him in a single extended exhalation, his fingers tightening slightly as he felt his lover's body slowly accept his intrusion. He fought against the overwhelming wave of heat coursing through him, staving it off and struggling to keep his eyes open, watching Zechs' face desperately, devouring the other man's reactions as if he could live on that, and that alone. After what seemed like an eternity, he found himself in a quiet corner of heaven, motionless save for the tremble of his quivering muscles, as he awaited Zechs' readiness.
The stream of Zechs' thoughts had scattered, fragments too far jumbled to hope to compose, though the only one that managed to escape the man's lips was the name of his lover. The passed time had lent the foreign discomfort an edge of pain, but the sensation was disregarded as it subsided, intertwined with the simple pleasure of anticipation. Hands finding their braces on Treize's arms, he pushed himself down hard, seeking the elusive 'more.'
The ginger-haired man's head bowed forward of its own accord, his clenched jaw the only thing stifling back the startled moan of pleasure struggling to burst from him. Taking a deep, stuttering breath, he flexed his hips, slowly withdrawing from the tight ambrosia of his lover's body before driving forward quickly once more. He loosed his grip on Zechs' hips to draw the other's legs up around him, altering the angle slightly as he sought out the spot within his lover that would drive even the fleeting memory of pain from him.
The reaction was immediate as the older man found what he sought. It felt like every muscle in Zechs' body pulled taunt at once, arching him with a muffled shout, the legs scissored around Treize tightening.
Reaching between them, Treize wrapped his hand around the stiff flesh of Zechs' manhood, pumping it in synch with his thrusts. Leaning forward, he seized Zechs' lips, tongue probing deeply, tasting and teasing every crevice within the warm cavern of the other's mouth. Within him, the entire world had narrowed into the rising tide of magma coursing through him and the exquisite beauty of the man below him. Distantly, within his rapidly disintegrating thoughts, he prayed that he was giving Zechs even a fraction of the joy suffusing him at that moment.
At and beyond capacity from the revelations of the night and the eagerly met thrusts rocking his body, Zechs clung hard to the edge of climax. Eyes tightly shut, he pulled back from Treize's mouth, the back of his head pressing into the mattress as the friction between them stole the last shred of control, despite his wish and irrational need for it to go on. He jerked hard, every muscle reacting to the force of his release.
As he felt the warm flood of Zechs' release erupt between them, Treize felt the tatters of rational thought explode in a nova of pleasure. A hoarse cry ripped from his throat as he felt Zechs' body tighten around and below him, wringing his release from him and stealing his strength in that final frantic thrust. The breath he hadn't even been aware of holding rushed from him even as he became aware that despite his intentions, his eyes had slipped closed as the wave of his climax had crested over him. Releasing his lover's softening flesh, he raised that hand to gently brush Zechs' sweaty bangs from his face before bending and leaving a tender kiss upon swollen lips.
Withdrawing and rolling to one side, he reached out and gathered Zechs into his arms, cradling the younger man to his chest weakly as he panted for breath. "I love you, Milliardo... I'll never leave you again," he whispered before contentedly nuzzling the hollow of Zechs' throat.
"Koishii," the term of endearment was breathed in return, as one of his hands broke the encroaching lethargy to cup the side of Treize's face, his thumb leisurely stroking a light caress across the other man's tender lips. "Love you," he murmured eyes sliding shut again.
Treize felt a smile stretch his lips as his arms tightened around Zechs gently. "No more drugs, Milliardo," he breathed as he settled contentedly. "Sleep. I'll be here. We'll face It together and never be alone again."
Despite the hidden and forgotten knot that the words unconsciously unraveled, the preceding request opened both blue eyes, a mild shock evident in them. "How..?" he asked, though a disconnected memory confirmed he hadn't actually thrown out the bottle, just intended to.
The aristocrat's smile faded as he realized that his tired mouth had betrayed him. He sighed softly, partly in regret, and partly in resignation. "A little bird possessed of incredible intelligence and compassion told me."
The sated feeling had already rooted too deeply to allow Zechs to work up a wry expression, but it reflected in his tone, even as he relaxed again in Treize's arms. "The bird wouldn't happen to have yellow feathers and giggles at the mention of strawberry shortcake?"
"The feathers I can attest to," Treize replied, the smile returning as he continued, "As for the other, that I cannot say."
A vague edge of something rose up as a distant, isolated connection clicked into place somewhere, but Zechs firmly pushed it out of mind, under the single determination to enjoy now. The morning was another world. Reaching around Treize to pull them that much closer, he followed his original path as his eyelids drifted inexorably shut again.
Treize watched as his love slipped off to sleep within his arms, almost afraid to follow suit, lest it all end up as a dream after all. Firmly pushing that fear away, he dropped a gentle kiss upon Zechs' brow. Even if it did turn out to be some wild fantasy, the pain of it in the morning would be worth the fleeting illusion of comfort now. Briefly, Carter came to mind; the sweet young child's determined scowl as he rebuked him the night before strangely comforting him. Suddenly, the risk that the entire night had not been real seemed a far and distant thing. For the first time in at least two years, Treize didn't fear the darkness enfolding his consciousness, and he followed Zechs into sleep with a tender smile.
The round of bathing and pajama donning went rather quickly and quietly. The kids were all tired, but each one seemed to have a happy smile that would not quite go away.
Mariemeia was escorted to her room and delivered to Lady Une for the evening, with the assurance that her new friends were going to be staying for a little while and no parting was imminent.
Une helped the sleepy Mariemeia to her bed. She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled the covers up. "Did you have a good time at the beach picnic?" she asked.
Mei nodded happily, still smiling despite the fatigue that kept making her eyes droop shut, only to be blinked stubbornly open again. "The guys had never seen the ocean that close, except for Tryan... and Carter called the dolphins! And we roasted hot-dogs and made S'mores and listened to Quatre play a violin. Miss Relena and Dorothy even looked relaxed. It was nice," Mei babbled with tired good cheer. She took a deep breath and let it out as her eyes slipped closed again. They opened once more and fixed on Une as she gripped the top of the blankets in her small hands. "Lady? Did... Did my father ever play music?"
Lady Une smiled, remembering the tall, ginger-haired aristocrat. "I don't know how many, but Mr. Treize did play the harpsichord and the piano, I think," she said, brushing Mariemeia's red hair back with her hand.
Mei smiled contentedly, closing her eyes as she tried to imagine what it might have sounded like. "Maybe I could learn someday," she said quietly, finally giving in to the sleep that had been creeping in on her since the bonfire. "Then I could play for them... Thank you for letting me go, Lady... Was fun. Love you. Lucky boys," she murmured, voice slowly dropping in volume until the last was almost lost in a soft exhalation.
Lady Une felt her breath catch and a distinctive tug at her heart as she looked down on the exhausted child. For the first time in a long time, she was reminded that Mariemeia was indeed just a little girl who missed her much-idolized father and who needed and wanted some measure of security like all children.
Bending down, she kissed Mariemeia's forehead, wondering how she was ever going to measure up to such regard, then deciding that it wasn't important. What was important was that for her own efforts, this little one returned something that was priceless... love. "I love you, too, Marie... Mei," she said, softly. Then, standing, Une pulled up the covers a little higher and quietly left the room.
Outside the door, Lady Une regarded her companions. "I'm ready, ladies," she said, still feeling the warmth from Mariemeia's words.
"Then let's roll. I got a cue stick with my name on it and a pitcher of beer I gotta down, before my brain turns on again," Sally said.
"Right this way, to the Chariot to Hell," Noin intoned, winking at the fourth member of the impromptu party. "Sallah, we're going to show you a side of this town the boys don't even know exists..."
"That works for me," Sallah replied.
TBC
End of Part 44
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