29-Mar-2000
In response to fic challenge by Kino Ai Sakura
Disclaimer: GW isn't mine even though I spent my last
tooth wishing for that. :(
Treize sat in front of the cozy fireplace with his legs pulled up to his chest, staring moodily into the flames. Nearby, Quatre leaned against the wall, his posture relaxed, playing his violin. The blonde man moved the bow with almost sensual tenderness, his eyes heavy-lidded and only dimly visible beneath the thick golden lashes. He sighed when the music ended, but quietly admitted that his arms were beginning to tire.
"Good," Treize snapped. "You've been playing the damned thing long enough."
Much used to the ginger-haired man's violent mood swings, Quatre merely placed his instrument in its carrying case, and moved to the small ceramic pot warming near the fire to pour himself tea. Eyes on his guest, he absently added sugar and cream, then slowly stirred the steaming beverage.
"Would you like to talk about it?"
"No, I would not."
Quatre sipped delicately, then again, as he thought his way through that. At thirty-two, the still-golden Arabian was still the sole male heir to the Winner Enterprises. The responsibilities wore heavily on him, but also had the effect of engaging so much of his time that relaxing long enough to find a wife was out of the question. Fortunately or unfortunately, it was said that his tastes did not run toward women, anyway. The same was said about Treize Khushrenada, the lone survivor of the now-famous duel with Chang Wufei. OZ had swept through the crumbled remains of the demoralised Resistance after Chang's death, and in the seventeen years since, Treize had been clawing his way up the ladder of Romafeller, grimly determined to triumph in the second great battle of his forty-three years. Treize wanted to rule.
Though they had once faced each other as enemies, Quatre Raberba Winner, having surrendured early on in the war and returned to his father's estates, had never spoken any open malice against General Khushrenada, and indeed the two were very friendly. Especially, Quatre mused, in the last few years, since it's become so obvious that Treize will never obtain his goals as long as he sticks with OZ.
Could that be the source of Treize's depression? Quatre wondered. He set down his tea, and moved to stand by the sullen General. "Walk with me," he proposed.
"I'm fine here."
"You'll be fine alone, then." Quatre shrugged gracefully and walked to the door. Behind him, Treize finally moved, surprised at the callous way his younger friend was abandoning him. "Hey!"
Quatre paused, and looked back.
After a minute, a tiny smile crossed Treize's face, and he rose and followed Quatre out.
They found themselves in one of Quatre's gardens. The expense of keeping the luscious plant-life around him at all his estates was atrocious, but Quatre had long ago forgiven himself that harmless luxury. The beauty of the gardens his servants faithfully tended was worth it. Duo, especially of all his friends, delighted in the flowers. So did this man, who was, even as Quatre thought of it, bendind to take in the aroma of a rose.
"For you," the grey-and-ginger haired man murmured, holding out the perfect blossom.
Quatre smiled winsomely. "Why, thank you, dear sir."
Treize tugged him close, and kissed him gently. Quatre allowed him a moment's touch, then stepped away. "Not today," he said lightly.
"You love to tease, Quatre-*sama*. Do you expect me to roll with your punches, the way those obsequious Manguanacs do?"
"Of course not. I expect you to wear yourself out with all your beautiful little boys, is what I expect."
Treize winced. "You have a hidden mean-streak, Mr. Winner."
"I've been around you for a long time." Quatre started walking again, spinning the flower around between his index finger and thumb. He had taken only a few steps before Treize caught up with him, and caught him close again, holding him with more force.
"Jealous?" the handsome general inquired softly.
"Indifferent."
"Envious."
"Irate."
"Craving."
"Improbable."
"Lusting... "
Quatre laughed in his face.
"Damnit, Quatre--" Treize kissed him again, insistently, demanding a like response with all the arrogance that only Treize Khushrenada could command. His hands caressed Quatre's back through the khaki jacket, and his arms tightened until Quatre was held fast against his chest.
They broke away for air.
"Well," Quatre said.
Treize smirked at him. "Well?"
"I have to say... "
"Yes?" Treize began to stroke his back again, hands drifting down to a more intimate portion of Quatre's anatomy.
"I have to say... that you are one of *the* most *infuriating* men I have ever known!" Quatre shoved him away, and jabbed a finger into his chest. "To think that you could take those kind of liberties with my person, and stand there acting like you think I *enjoy* it! You--you--"
Treize stared at him, stunned. "Quatre," he managed. He spread his hands in entreaty. "I'm sorry... I didn't realise... "
"You--are absolutely--" Quatre closed the distance between them, and took a handful of Treize's fashionable tweed sweater, using the leverage to haul him forward. "Are absolutely right," he growled, and put his tongue in the older man's conviently open mouth.
Treize laughed all the way down to the sweet-smelling grass.
End Part 1
(:./erin/20years1)
