15 Dec 2000
The next chapter - a romantic dinner...
DISCLAIMER: All Gundam Wing characters are property of Sunrise, Bandai Visuals, Sotsu Agency, and Asahi TV. This work is not written for profit, but for entertainment purposes only.
Warnings: Later bondage, lemon, lemon, lemon, sex, NC references.
Pairings: 6x5, 6x13, 13x5, 13x6 (I order of appearance ^_~)
A strangled frustrated sound left Treize as he began to push himself up from his position of laying on his stomach. /He's a terrible tease.../
"Stay there for a moment, Treize," he said softly and opened the door for a serving boy who held their dinners on a silver tray.
"Good evening, Master," the boy smiled, carefully holding that tray, he was pretty, with wide blue eyes and softly curling short blonde hair, skin the colour of milk. he was small, and spent most of his available time with the angels becuase their tenderness drew him in. "Duo cooked a wonderful meal for you this evening."
There was a sound of a pager beeping and Zechs excused himself as the servant held a chair out for Treize. He didn't seem at all nonplussed by the older man's clothing, or lack of it, and he smiled graciously, keeping his eyes on the table and nowhere else.
"Would you care to hae a seat at the table, Treize?" he asked softly.
"Ah, well," Treize murmured, expression caught between anxious and embarrassed as he looked at the chair the young man held out for him. "I.... I am not sure yet that I am allowed to get up yet, but thank you."
"The Master just informed me it was permitted. Please - have a seat. Would you like to hear about your dishes?"
"Treize rose, gingerly, from the sofa. As he sat down, the servant pointed to a small pewter dish. "Your starters tonight are mushrooms in a white wine sauce, sauteed with garlic and a little onion."
His hand moved to two small plates with silver covers, which he lifted. "Your entrees will be Stilton steaks, those are prime cut steaks with Stilton cheese and a touch of walnut butter broiled on the top. Along with that are parselied new potatoes and a simple vinagrette salad." At last the boy pointed to a small closed case that looked to be refrigerated. "And for dessert, there is Bramley Crunch - a light pear-and-apple souffle top with a sweet yogurt and a touch of light cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon crumbs."
Moving to a bottle of red wine near the fire, the boy picked it up and stood at Treize's elbow. "Shall I pour you some Cabernet to begin with?"
"I..." Treize's eyes looked as if they were going ot fall out of his head -- food of that sort, before he was taken, wouldn't have shocked him in the least. But that he was a slave, and knew where slaves stood in the world, and that he was going to eat such a meal with his owner... /Why? I don't mind this treatment, but... why is he bothering?/ "Yes, please. And give Duo commendations when you see him again."
The servant gave a wry look, as if to say that slaves didn't typically give other slaves commendations. He struggled to stifle a laugh as he bowed, "of *course*, Treize. I'm glad it's to your liking."
Zechs had been huddled on the other side of the room with his phone and now walked up to the table and survey the fare. "It looks wonderful, Harry. You and Duo have outdone yourselves again." He took the seat at the head of the table, kitty-corner from Treize. "Is this to your taste, Treize, or would you prefer something else?"
"Any food at *all*, Master, is to *my* taste," he smiled wryly, showing, for one of the few times, a glint of his real personality. Jovial, deep thinking, with only a flicker of brooding, covered mostly by wry humour.
"Well, then - *you* should be easy to satisfy," Zechs answered, a slight smile of his own showing. Harry had poured wine for both men and lit two slender tapers that stood in the center of the table. He adjusted the lights to give just enough illumination to eat, but not so much as to take away the intimate mood of the room.
"Well done, Harry," Zechs purred as he held out a hand to the boy. A radiant smile came back at him as Harry moved in close and knelt beside his chair, looking up at the blond man in adoration. Zechs leaned down and caught the boy's mouth in a long, sultry kiss. He drew back saying, "You may go now," and Harry left the room silently, whispering "Oh, *thank* you, Master."
"Well, Treize - " Zechs said smoothly, holding up his glass to the other man, "here's to getting you out of the hands of those barbarians and into my arms."
"Agreed!" Treize laughed lightly, raising his glass to Zechs'. A soft clink sounded, ringing through the air and proving that both glasses were crystal. He took a swallow of the cabernet and smiled faintly as he let it set in his mouth for a moment before swallowing. Flavorful -- not too bitter, or too sweet. "And to getting somewhere near civilization once more. It's greatly appreciated."
The blond man's smile widened just a fraction. "You deserve to be in the very heart of civilization, Treize. I simply cannot imagine the idiocy of the minds who thought it appropriate to treat you that way. I don't approve of beatings for *any* slave, let alone one such as yourself."
He reached for Treize's hand and took it gently from the table, bringing it to his mouth before turning it over and pressing a kiss to the palm, long golden lashes just brushing Treize's skin. "You look extraordinary by candlelight," he breathed.
Another shiver raced through Treize's body as he gazed upon his owner's face -- really looked at him -- for the first time under that candle-light. "[You are an angel]," he murmured quietly in Russian, under his breath and to himself. "[Why are you in this hell?]" His hand lifted to touch the fine lines, tiny creases at the edge of Zechs' lips, matching ones at the corner of his eyes. "You're too young for such things as this."
Zechs was so surprised by what his slave had said that he didn't react at all to the unbidden touch. He froze for a moment and then frowned, staring into Treize's eyes. "What*ever* do you mean by that?"
"Stress lines," he murmured, stroking over the lines that wouldn't be visiable if it weren't for the candle-light. "How old are you? Twenty four? You're too young for this sort of mark."
Zechs caught Treize's wrist and brought it down to the table, keeping hold of the hand. "And *you* are too beautiful for the marks that disfigure your back, but that's what happened, so there they are. I've done quite a lot for someone my age and I feel good about that," he continued. "And I'm always getting rude remarks from the older men about being a child, which I'm not. Life is stressful, Treize. You know that as well as I do. The effects of it are inevitable."
A bitter-sweet smile curled Treize's lips, and the corners of his eyes crinkled with the expression. "How true. I just think that an engel like you shouldn't bare the marks of an average paper-pusher."
"Oh, they're not *those* kinds of marks," the blond said, spooning mushrooms onto the small plate in front of Treize. "No, no - these are battle scars of quite a different nature. It's all chest-pounding warrior talk and high stakes gambles where these come from." Helping himself to the appetizer, he tasted them and nodded in satisfaction. "No one can cook mushrooms like Duo - he's wonderful."
"Hmn." Treize tasted them. "Yes, very good." Trying another, he nodded to himself. "Chest pounding? I've seen a lot of phone-talking, Master, but no chest pounding. That's what lawyers do."
That got a laugh at last. "Oh, well, the chest-pounding is *never* done face-to-face," Zechs said with mock seriousness, "if it can be at all helped. No, it usually comes in stockholder meetings, or press conferences, or negotiation sessions - especially when half the negotiators are asleep at the table having bad dreams because of the sweet-and-sour soup. *Those* are the times that separate the truly stressed from the 'wannabes'."
He took another bite of mushrooms then sat back in his chair, bringing his wine with him. "And forgive me, but I can't in the least see you as a chest-pounding, courtroom terror. Were you?"
Treize sat back, too, smiling slightly. "Not chest pounding, no," he murmured wryly. "But not meek, either. Speechs of any sort -- calm, serious, and stirring. The jury didn't stand a chance of rational thought once I was done with closing arguments. I did the same thing for party rallys."
"A gifted orator, eh?" Zechs asked. "Too few of *those* around these days. And were you planning on becoming a career politician?"
"Planning," the older man mused with another slightly bitter smile. "Planning being the key word. When you're good, it's a fast rise to the top, you know? When it's natural." He chuckled quietly. "Some thought I was dangerous to the system, others thought I'd help, but it was a sure bet that in eight years or so I'd have been chancellor." That brought a smile to his lips, a real one. /If.../ "Imagine that. I'd have been the first chancellor to have dual citizenship, born out of Germany." /Mother would be proud of me, if that had've happened./ "Of course, that hope of mine if dust."
Sipping his wine, Zechs eyed Treize over the top of his glass. "Really? Why would you think that?"
"It's part of politics, Master," he drawled, eating a bit more. "They'll dig up anything on you that they can find, and you'd be amazed what they can *find*. Hell, even if... I ever did get back, it would be... a scandal were I to get into politics again. They'd probably find pictures." That was wry, but there was a thin stream of anger beneath that, a shine of battered pride that refused to completely give up.
"Hmm... perhaps," Zechs murmured, leaning forward on his elbows and tipping his head to the side slightly. "On the other hand, if you know the right people, just about anything is possible... Are you ready for the entree?"
"Ah, yes, thank you," he murmured, looking at the other man across the candle-light.
Silver covers were lifted and soon they were tucking into steaks topped with a pale gold, bubbling mixture flecked with spices and walnuts. Zechs refilled Treize's wine glass.
"Tell me about your daughter, Treize," he said.
"She's seven," he murmured, sipping that wine. "A very bright seven year-old. I send her to a private-school so she can skip grades when she needs to."
"Mmm hmm," Zechs said, chewing his steak and then taking another sip of wine. "And what has she been told regarding your disappearance?"
"How am I to know?" he asked seriously. "I haven't been able to contact home since I 'disappeared.'"
A soft smile met this remark. "Forgive me. I didn't think. Well, who do you suppose she would be with? Does she have other relatives?"
"No," he murmured quietly. "Just me. She's probably with Anne right now."
"And you wanted Anne as her mother so much that you were willing to live in a loveless marriage to ensure it. They must be very close - and she must be an extraordinary person..." The faint twinge of jealousy that sprang up at the mention of the man's fiancee set off an alarm in Zechs. It was troubling to think of another person who was able to make him feel something he didn't want to feel. If he thought about it too much he'd begin to obsess on it, so he pushed it quickly to the back of his mind.
"Very much so," Treize murmured. He missed his daughter so very much more than Anne. "She's wonderful with Marimeia." A quiet sigh, as he finished the steak, sitting back once more. "You know so very much about me, and I know nothing about you."
"That's as it should be, Treize," the blond said with the barest hint of smirk. "The only thing you need to know about me," he continued, rising from the table, "Is that I'm your master and that, at this very moment, I want only to take you in my arms and kiss you until you're breathless with desire."
Taking Treize's hand, Zechs pulled him to his feet, and into a close embrace. One long arm encircled the older man's waist and strong fingers tangled their way into his hair as his mouth was claimed with a sweet and fiery kiss.
That was enough to make Treize relax once more into a semi-submissive state, which was as far under as he could let himself go. Treize's hands came up, one cupping the back of Zechs' neck to tangle in the delicious strands of blonde hair as his other hand smoothed down Zechs' ass.
Zechs had other ideas, however, and reached around, taking Treize's arm and putting firmly around the blond's neck. Through increasingly heated kisses, he murmured, "You seem to have trouble... keeping your hands... to yourself... Treize. But I have an excellent way... mmmmn... of making it easier for you... nnnnn... to remember. We'll try it out... when Wufei arrives..."
Now Zechs's hands caressed Treize's shoulders and back, cupping the older man's chest so that his nipples were just in the reach of Zechs's thumbs. He brushed them through the mesh and then leaned down and took one of the taught nubs in his mouth, exploring it with his tongue before beginning to suckle.
"Oh!" He gladly held onto Zechs' neck, not even *able* to think of what the 'solution' might be, as pleasure shivered over him from Zechs' unyeilding touches. "Gut... du... ach, gut!"
After giving the other nipple the same treatment, Zechs kissed his way back up the broad chest and began suckling and biting on the warm damp skin of Treize's neck. His hand's, meanwhile, had wandered down to cup the older man's ass, squeezing in a slow, erotic motion and teasing again through the strings of mesh. "Mmmm... oh, Treize..." he moaned, running his fingers through golden-brown silk and pulling Treize's head back a bit to allow him better access to the man's throat. "I am going to fuck you so well tonight that you'll be dreaming of it all day tomorrow..." he whispered in Treize's ear.
"Please..." A soft plea from the man, as he rocked back against the one hand that cupped and teased.
Then a knock on the door sounded, the heavy hit familiar of Wufei.
End of Chapter 9
(:./kumiko/velvet9)
