The New Couple

Tue, 08 Jul 2008 01:56:19 +0000

Table of contents for 30 Kisses

I don’t own these lovely boys though I wish I did.

The New Couple
by Michalyn
Warnings: Duo POV, 13+5, 3+4, mentions of 1+2
For 30-kisses theme #24 (Good Night)

Notes: This is something of an experiment in POV for me that I started a few months ago, so I’m not sure what I think of it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. It’s sort of a loose sequel to Breath Thanks for reading!

The bell tinkles outside and familiar laughter drifts down the hall. My guests are arriving. Of course it is Quatre’s bright voice I hear first; Trowa is quiet enough to startle a cat. We’re expecting some new faces tonight. It’s been so long since we’ve been joined by another couple that there’s already a kind of tension in the air, a frission of anticipation if you will. I know Quatre and Trowa wouldn’t miss this for the world.

Sometimes it’s a hassle orientating newbies, but tonight I think differently. What we do here is no exact science (Is science ever really exact? I have my doubts, though this is blasphemy to Heero) so I like to go with my gut on these things and my gut tells me I won’t be disappointed.

I run a little shindig in this old house that I get to charge couples a tidy sum for, and that, quite honestly is pretty good. It’s even better because I still can’t figure out how I got here. No, that’s not quite true. When I say it that way it makes what I do seem like a scam, which it is not. I guess the crude term would be “swingers club” and that is true in a sense, (hey, lets call a spade a spade) but i’d like to hope it’s more than that. I really do believe in this thing but I try not to take myself too seriously. I can’t solve anybody’s problems and if a couple is looking for that, then they’re going to be sorely disappointed.

I guess this … this establishment if you will, is more about celebrating the good stuff. That’s not to say the couples who come here are the Cleavers. I like to think of them instead as people who have recognized each other’s neuroses and accepted them. Quatre can be a little clingy and getting Trowa to open up is like pulling teeth, but they work at it and I know neither could see themselves with anyone else.

If perfect is out there, certainly neither I nor they have encountered it. Once, I had a couple come in here yelling at each other, and expecting me to tell them why they weren’t communicating. Sorry, not my job. Like I said, I’m no shrink. I’m here to help people who love each other get away for a bit without actually having to disrupt their jobs and their busy lives and to help them break out of the daily routine by spicing things up a bit in the bedroom.

Like much of my expertise, this is practical stuff. I’ve seen a lot of things in my life and there’s no shame now in admitting that I’ve witnessed a good portion of them through sex. I grew up on the streets and I quickly discovered that wielding knives was not the only thing I was good at. I was thirteen when the manager of the local grocery store demanded a blowjob as payment for not ratting me out for the pack of cigarettes I had stolen. I’m sure you can imagine the rest from there.

In any case, that rather rough education was tempered considerably when I met Heero. We feel like an old married couple and I mean that in the best sense, with none of the insipid familiarity that everyone seems to recognize in their parents and dreads for themselves. There’s familarity, a heck of a lot of frustration sometimes, but no contempt. Never that. At the risk of sounding cheesy, being with Heero has been a life-changing experience.

If it wasn’t for Sister Helen at the juvenile center I would never have made it to college. It wasn’t the fear of God she put in us kids but the fear of her own hellish temper. You did not disappoint Sister Helen. That was it. Period. She looked as meek as a lamb, but when someone crossed her, he discovered pretty quickly the error of his ways. The woman was a hardass, plain and simple. She was kind too. Without her I would never have believed that it was good enough to be myself and that being loved wasn’t a favor but that I deserved it, damn it.

I made it to Struthers on a full scholarship and how a grubby brat from a poor neighborhood ended up with a straight-laced military kid like Heero is another story for another time. I might forget; you must remind me to tell you over coffee some day.

Anyway, we were both a year shy of graduating when we set out to start a computer business. Heero took it and ran with it, but the computer stuff never quite grabbed me. I had these ideas. There were things I wanted to do. I was a city boy and I knew it in all of its cruel beauty. No matter how far I went, I knew I wouldn’t be satisfied with grassy lawns and quiet afternoons. I needed the noise and the concrete. It was in my blood. I needed to do something that tapped into that life force, that connection.

But what was I good at? I had always been a smooth talker—that, and a great fuck. So after leaving school for a year after graduation to help Heero, I went back to school, got my MBA and here we are today. Business and sex. Heh. I think it’s a pretty good fit for me. I can make your toes curl and that’s not pride talking, just the hard won truth. I know the practical and painful sides of human desire, its beautiful and its mean, ugly side. Regardless of whether I had ever wanted it or not, I do own that knowledge. Why not put it to good use?

I never wanted anything despicable, though. My own experiences with money and sex were enough for me to know quite intimately how disastrous that combination can be. I didn’t want to revisit those dark places; I turned to something more modest, more positive instead. Even now, I keep things pretty exclusive. I’m not interested in turning this into anything other than what it is: a place to hang out, a place to be comfortable among friends. To this day, the bulk of the money I make comes from Quatre’s well-lined pockets. (Trowa’s a veterinarian and he’s happy to let Quatre shoulder the expense.) We’re old friends; they like it here and are willing to pay to have the place to themselves.

Except today, of course. Recently they’ve been talking about inviting another couple and when I received the phone call, I knew these guys were what we were looking for. Like clockwork, May, the secretary buzzes me to let me know the new guests have arrived. I go down to meet them.

This must be the guy I spoke with on the phone. He’s tall and well-built, in his early thirties, though with that aristocratic bearing it’s hard to tell. I can’t help but notice his arm around the man with him. Slender, young. How young I can’t tell because he is turned away from me, but I place him somewhere near Quatre’s and my ages. Twenty-two, twenty-three, definitely no older than twenty-five, but his eyes are very serious. His dark hair is pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck. It is raining outside and there are droplets on his glasses. He catches me staring and takes them off, buffing them a little too briskly against his shirt. Sensible shoes, impeccably pressed shirt. He even has a pen clipped to his breast pocket. To take notes? He’s so earnest that I have to hide my chuckle. Sweet Jesus, you met all types in this line of business. I’ve seen many things since I started running this place but I don’t think anyone’s brought a pen yet. The peculiarity of it immediately puts him in my good books. Heero would shake his head and say I’m just predictable. Okay, so maybe he’s right, but I can’t help but find the shy ones endearing.

His partner on the other hand is something else. He’s carrying their duffel bag. Of course, he checks me over as well. People choose this place precisely because it does not fit the gaudy new-age stereotype, and yet, they always seem shocked when I’m not sporting a scruffy beard or not wearing a bandana and tie-dyed pants. I suppose only my braid is sterotypical, but I know I make an attractive picture standing there in dark turtleneck and jeans.

I can see it in Mr. Perfect’s eyes as he runs his hands through his impeccably groomed ginger hair. While his lover busies himself taking off his coat, he casts the same assessing look over the furniture and creamy wallpaper and I can tell he’s impressed.

I’m not surprised. It’s an elegant old Victorian mansion; the flowers are fresh and there’s a homey feel to the place. Actually, despite his cool air, I can tell Mr. Perfect’s a little nervous. He’s a little snotty, but I suppose as his type usually goes he’s not that bad. Quatre’s the only rich guy I know who doesn’t ooze it from his pores.

Trowa and Quatre are regulars so I let them wander off on their own while I take the newcomers aside.

“Chang-Khushrenada party?” I ask with a smile.

“Yes.” My spectacled friend steps forward. “I am Wufei, and this is Treize. We called sometime last week,” he finishes somewhat hesitantly. He keeps looking around like he expects bondage gear to drop out of a secret door any minute now. Then again, I might be wrong; who knows what’s in that duffel bag of theirs with its “CK” monogramed in gold curlicued letters?

“Ah.” I nod. “It’s a pleasure to have you. Please make yourself comfortable. The Barton-Winners are already here, so I’ll have May show you to your room, so you can freshen up before dinner.”

“Thank you.” It is Treize who is nodding now. As I expected, the older guy is sexy, charming and as polished as the matching bands on their fingers. He makes himself right at home, flirting lightly with May as she guides them up the stairs.

Quatre and Trowa are already snuggling by the fire when I finally return to the living room. Quatre’s hand is slowly making its way down to Trowa’s pants just as I turn on the lights. Little minx. I clear my throat, and he grins, pulling away reluctantly.

“Shame on you, guys, it’s rude to start the feast without all of the guests,” I admonish with a grin.

Trowa stretches his long legs out in front of him and apologizes but I can see neither he nor Quatre is truly contrite—and rightly so. We’re here to have fun after all. They’ve been kind enough to spread the cushions on the floor and so I only have to bring the snacks and drinks in.

I settle down with my friends and we catch up on all that we’ve missed in each other’s absence. Trowa quietly praises a new young intern, while Quatre skims over the details of a new merger. For myself, I sit and listen, sipping a little champagne, telling of my and Heero’s differing progress.

Wine and laughter have loosened our tongues and made us all pleasantly languid by the time Treize and Wufei emerge, showered and changed. Treize is barefoot in jeans and a polo shirt; Wufei is more formal once again in slacks and button down shirt. I am disappointed to find that the pen has disappeared.

“Treize, Wufei, make yourselves comfortable. There’s wine, fruit, cheese and I’ve also got some caviar for the more delicate palettes among us.”

They thank me, polite as ever and move to the table, murmuring nervously to each other. There’s always that first bout of shyness, but I’m not worried. We’ll get them to loosen up, yet. They return with some Gruyere and assorted fruit and I’m happy to see that they’re not so uncomfortable as to forego sharing a glass of sparkling wine.

That’s right, baby steps, kids. Let’s take it nice and slow. They’re a handsome couple and I can feel Trowa’s and Quatre’s appreciation from across the room.

“Usually we like to start with a little introduction,” I begin. “Why don’t we go around the room? I’d like everyone to state their names, how long you’ve been together and giving us a bit of your sexual history is always nice, as well as why you’ve come here. Quatre, why don’t we start with you?”

Quatre nods.”Hello, I’m Quatre Raberber Winner and Trowa and I have been together for a little over three years now. Regarding my sexual history, there’s not much to tell. I’ve only had four lovers, including Trowa. I think of my time with my first three lovers as really more of an experimentation period. I was not comfortable with my sexuality yet and it took a while for me grow into my skin. Inevitably, the sex was pleasurable, but never quite good.” Quatre pauses to grab a strawberry. “With Trowa it’s different—and better—in every way.”

Trowas green eyes go dark as Quatre’s soft voice continues. He laces their fingers together and takes the introduction over, repeating his name and some of what Quatre has said about their relationship.

“As CEO, Quatre’s schedule is hectic and it is hard for us to find time together,” he elaborates. “We visit Duo often because this is one of the few places where we know once we enter, we can leave the world at the door and catch up on all that we’ve missed.”

Treize and Wufei murmur pleasantries. There is a pregnant silence as we wait for either of them to continue the momentum. When neither steps up to the plate, I have no choice but to prod.

“Treize? Wufei?”

“Ah, yes.” Treize clears his throat. He leans forward. “Where shall I begin? I am Treize and Wufei and I have been married for two years, together for four. We’ve come because we’ve been wanting to try something different and this seemed the best place to do so.” He laughs a little embarrassedly. “As for my sexual history … well … let’s just say I’ve tried a little bit of everything.”

I had seen the rings but did not actually think they were married. It is a pretty brave couple who takes the plunge, even though things are getting better these days. At least, we can now legally marry whomever we choose, but in actuality, few couples are lucky enough to find a judge who will make it a fact. It’s not something I like to think about too much, except lately Heero’s become rather insistent….

Wufei is introducing himself. He is charming, if in his own gruff way. I find myself feeling a little guilty for having a soft spot, however innocent, for the second Mr. Chang-Khusrenada. He is a married man after all. He finishes up his introduction. Withdrawing a bit, he darkens under his warm complexion. “I have no real sexual history,” Wufei reports matter-of-factly. “Except with Treize.”

I cannot say I am too surprised. He is too straight-laced to have played around much.Good or bad, I certainly am not one to judge. Quatre, it seems, however, is and has. Whether it is this revelation or Wufei in general, I look across the room and see that he is all but purring. Geez, he really is on the prowl tonight. I had no idea the guy could be so ferocious. Trowa, more circumpsect, is studying both men beneath his lashes.

Wufei is perfectly oblivious, but I can see Treize struggling to maintain a veneer of rationality in the face of what appears to be an immense desire to tuck his husband under his arm and run away with him. He sends Quatre a cautionary look and the blond stares back, unabashed.

I stifle a chuckle.

I believe Treize is only now understanding what he has gotten himself into.

To ease the awkwardness a bit, I draw everyone into a haphazard circle. “Now that we know a little more about each other, our goal here is to learn how to better please ourselves and our partners by first talking about what works for each of us. What do you love most about your lover? Talk about challenges too; each person is unique. What would you like to do differently? If you have no ‘complaints’,” I shadow the quotation marks in the air, “then is there something you have always wanted to try, but haven’t been able to work up the courage for? Perhaps you are scared that your partner will disagree. Before we start anything I want us to talk these things out. Where possible I’ll try to make suggestions for what might enhance pleasure even more.”

I pat the oversized pillows. “Come on, spread out, snuggle up, whatever makes you happy. I want everyone to be comfortable. Since we went in the other direction last time, Wufei, let’s get the ball rolling.”

Wufei is quiet, pondering my words like I have presented him with a deep, philosophical riddle. Perhaps it is. Eventually he says, “I am most attracted to Treize’s hands. They remind me how competent he is.”

Competent. Somehow I do not expect something quite so … so practical, though the moment he says it, it rings true.

Quatre is mulling over Wufei’s response and Trowa seems a bit bewildered but Treize is visibly moved. He closes the distance between them and Wufei allows the older man to take him in his arms. There is nothing sexual about the embrace, just Treize’s arm about Wufei’s waist and Wufei’s head resting against Treize’s shoulder. So simple, and yet … not. Maybe that is what makes them so attractive together. I can sense but cannot put my finger on it: There is a calmness to their relationship, not a reserved quality, something more like an equilibrium, the kind of steadfastness that comes only through sorrow. I wonder what ghosts have flitted across their paths to wrench the bond between them into being.

Wufei continues to speak. He is nervous and digresses, but the group is patient. Treize is tracing the grooves between Wufei’s fingers splayed on the carpet, neither coaxing nor caressing. His expression seems to say that he has developed the habit of waiting and is unperturbed by a few more minutes, and sure enough, Wufei does return.

“Well,” he clears his throat with a harsh sound, “I have no complaints to speak of.”

I sip my wine. “None?”

“None at all.”

“Then what do you enjoy?”

Wufei’s mouth puckers as though he has just bitten into a lemon. “Everything Treize does pleases me,” he repeats firmly. “Though … I would like, just once to know what it’s like … to be on top.” This last is said much more softly than the rest.

Treize, for lack of a better word is stunned.

“Does that bother you?” Trowa asks him, stealing the words from my own lips.

“Well no … of course not. I had just not imagined….”

“But why?” Quatre’s clear voice rings out. “Surely it is not so strange?”

Wufei is quiet; he continues to hold Treize’s hand. After a moment, Treize smiles, pulling Wufei onto his lap. “No, no I guess it is not,” he answers and I can read Wufei’s immense relief in every line of his body.

As soon as Wufei settles against him, Treize begins a light stroking up and down Wufei’s arms. In fact, whenever they’re near each other, he is always subtly caressing Wufei and I can’t help but point it out.

This is the kind of guy to make your toes curl. Actually, Wufei’s toes are curling right now, though that might be due more to nervousness than anything else. I think we’ve made a small breakthrough here this evening, though. I can see it in the thoughtful expressions on both Treize and Wufei’s faces as they listen to Trowa and Quatre tell their stories.

They seem to have come to a decision. It appears that Treize, so used to protecting Wufei in the cradle of his arms had not imagined Wufei would want to do the same for him. They skip the rest of my bonding exercises and somewhat sheepishly apologize for sneaking off so early to their room. I pretend disappointment, but I could not be more pleased. These are exactly the kinds of connections that make my work so worthwhile.

And so, I let them go.

Treize promises their full participation tomorrow and Wufei agrees. They turn towards the stairs, the rest of us forgotten in an instant.

Wufei’s eyes are burning as they take each other’s hands and quietly say good night.

End

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Table of contents for 30 Kisses