Table of contents for The Broken Seal

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four

Long overdue but not too late for Valentine’s Day I hope! This has only been very quickly proofed so please excuse any mistakes.

I make no claim to any of the Gundam Wing characters. This story is written for my, and hopefully others’ enjoyment and not for monetary profit.

The Broken Seal
Chapter 4/5
by Michalyn
Rating: MA

Author’s Note: Only one more chapter to go! I will try to make it not too long of a wait.

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“Now don’t forget what I told you. The food is in the pantry and I’ve already milked Betsy so all you should do is lift the trapdoor to get the milk out. I keep it underground so it stays cool but I’ve also cast a winter spell that keeps everything in the cellar chilled. That means the butter will keep as well. Nataku is coming with me so you don’t have to worry about feeding her.” Wufei looked at the two guardians. “Questions? Concerns? Protests?”

Treize cleared his throat.

“Yes?”

“Can we get a kiss before you leave?”

“No!” Wufei glared. “Be serious. I don’t want the two of you getting into any trouble while I’m gone. Just stay put and don’t let anyone see you.”

“All right, all right,” Treize agreed. “We will be here waiting for your return.”

Zechs inclined his head. “If you are in trouble, call on us and we will be at your side immediately.”

“Call on you?” Wufei repeated, confused.

Zechs flicked his hand and the runes in Wufei’s pocket vibrated.

“Oh.” Wufei gulped. He still did not quite believe that Treize and Zechs were connected to him. Truthfully both men made him nervous and not just because of their powers.

It was only a few days since the storm freed the two guardians from their seals but already they had turned Wufei’s life upside down. He was prepared for conflict; he had not anticipated Treize and Zechs’ desire for him. Wufei could deal with bruises and battles but he was completely out of his depth when it came to lust. The General and Lieutenant had made their intentions toward Wufei very clear and Wufei was not sure what to do about it. He was aware of his attraction to both men but also frightened by the intensity of arousal they inspired in him. Maybe this trip to the village was a good thing. He needed some time alone to clear his head.

Wufei grabbed his bag and headed to the door. “Wish me luck. If I ride hard I can get to the village before dark. If everything goes as planned, I can present you to the elders at the Fire Festival as visiting scholars.”

Treize nodded. “Be careful, Elf. We shall see to things here while you are away.”

Wufei tried not to imagine all the ways their “seeing to things” could go horribly wrong. Instead he forced himself to be optimistic though his hands were cold and his stomach was doing flip flops. He hoped he could pull this off. Otherwise, they would all be in trouble.

Dawn was just breaking over the horizon as Wufei left his cottage and tied his roll to his mount. He climbed into the saddle and Nataku settled on his shoulder with a flutter of her wings. Wufei cast one final glance at Treize and Zechs. In the pale morning light they looked beautiful and unearthly. The wind caught Zechs’ hair and stirred it about his cheeks. The blond was looking at him in that calm focused way that Wufei always found disconcerting. At least Treize hid his sharp edges behind a charm and a teasing sense of humor. Wufei could never tell what Zechs was thinking.

Shaking his head, Wufei touched his heels to the horse’s flanks. “All right then, I’m off.”

Wufei waved and unfamiliar with the gesture, Treize and Zechs pressed their fists to their hearts in the ancient way of greeting. It was also a sign of fealty. Wufei was oddly touched. He turned and spurred his horse on, afraid that Treize and Zechs would see the uncommon tenderness in his expression.

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The village had changed subtly since Wufei visited a year ago. There were new houses along the main street and the market had been extended. When he saw that Trowa had opened a new dragon-spell supply store, something inside of Wufei twisted. It was a neat two-storied building with the upper floor clearly serving as living quarters for the young couple. Wufei looked up and thought he saw the outline of two figures embracing against the gauzy curtains. He once felt guilty about not contacting his old friend. Now he knew it was for the better. Wufei quickly moved on.

The Fire Festival was the biggest event of the year in Dragon Glen and one could sense the anticipation in the air. The local inn already had banners up and its walls gleamed with a fresh coat of paint. Children eager to earn pocket money were selling dragon fruit they had picked from their disgruntled neighbors’ trees. Many of the boys had fashioned rough wood carvings to peddle to tourists.

Wufei smiled as he watched a young girl sell the last of her fruit and then skip off excitedly to tell her friends. He remembered those days, although it had been different for him. Even as early as then, he was preparing to be the next guardian. Yet, he had always looked forward to end of the ceremonies when he could run off and play just like all the other children. How uncomplicated life had been then. As hard as his studies were Wufei had never doubted his purpose. The elders had told him his talent was a gift from the gods; a gift meant to protect his people. Wufei always believed them. Now he did not know what to think.

Never one to like attention, Wufei tried to keep to the lesser-used paths as much as possible, but once a few people caught sight of him, word quickly spread.

“Guardian Chang! Guardian Chang, what brings you to the village?”

“Is everything all right?”

“Chang-tzu [1], will you come to see my poor ailing son?”

“Where are you staying? Do us the honor of sleeping at our inn tonight!”

The cacophony of voices rose around Wufei and the crowd jostled closer. Wufei raised his hand.

“Thank you for your well wishes. Everything is fine. I am merely here to speak with the Elders about preparations for the Fire Festival. Mr. Chen, thank you but the elders have already made arrangements for me in the sacred hall. Mrs. Lin, I will come to see young Bao as soon as I am finished meeting with the elders. I have a salve that may help him….” And so Wufei continued until all the requests had been answered and the villagers finally dispersed. Wufei sighed. He was not very good with people and knew he often seemed gruff but he liked knowing he could help his people even in these small ways.

The excitement of the villagers had distracted Wufei for a moment but now that he approached the sacred hall, his queasiness returned. Wufei squared his shoulders and tried to tell himself that everything would be all right.

At the gate, the guards bowed deeply as they let him in. Two servants immediately ran up to take his horse and carry his things to his room.

Wufei thanked them and entered the Council Hall. It was second in importance only to the Temple. In the Hall, the five men and five women who made up the Council of Elders decided on Dragon Glen’s most important matters. The elders were nominated by the villagers and theirs was a lifelong tenure. Temple guardians who lived long enough but were too old to protect the village occasionally were relieved of their duties and nominated to the council. It was the only hope Wufei had of returning to the village and living a normal life. Of course by then it probably did not matter anyway.

A young girl with thickly coiled hair and wearing the white robes of the temple students led Wufei to his room. When she was gone, he changed out of his traveling clothes. Sitting at the desk in front of the window, Wufei ate the modest dinner of beef stew, crusty bread and wine which had been prepared for him.

Through the window, Wufei could see the lush slopes of the mountain, though his cottage was not visible from here. He wondered what Treize and Zechs were doing. His room seemed so quiet and Wufei realized that in the short time the guardians had been with him, he had already grown used to their constant banter. It was not that he missed them (of course not, Wufei reminded himself) but for the first time he had a glimpse of his own loneliness. Even with Nataku snuggled in his lap Wufei did not feel the contentment he expected at being in a sacred place and surrounded by other devotees. Inside of him was a nameless hunger that Wufei did not know how to assuage.

The wind stirred and it seemed to hold a whiff of magic. Wufei turned his face to it, eyes fixed on the mountain and worried thoughts filling his head.

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The elders summoned Wufei a little after dusk. Once the greetings were dispensed with, Wufei pulled out his bag. In it was the letter from Treize and Zechs. The night after Jared had left they composed the note on which this entire ruse depended.

Since the elders would recognize Wufei’s script, Zechs took on the task of writing the letter. The blond had a fine hand for one so brusque although Wufei was careful not to point that out. After much discussion, they decided it would be best to claim that Treize and Zechs were historical scholars from Oz, a small kingdom near Zechs’ homeland. The kingdom was obscure enough and both men familiar enough with its customs (at least as they had been then) to make their story convincing. Since they were the demons in question they would claim they were scholars of what was now referred to as the Reign of Blood (much to Treize and Zechs’ chagrin. Given Dragon Glen’s important role in the history, no one would question Treize and Zechs’ motivations for visiting.

At least, that was what they hoped.

When they finished the letter, Wufei had planned to pry the seal off one of the missives Jared had delivered, but to his surprise Treize produced a seal of his own. The stamp was of a lion and scorpion entwined. Wufei found out that the lion was Treize’s family emblem and the scorpion Zechs’. If he possessed any doubts about Treize and Zechs’ relationship, they were silenced there and then.

Officially, the melding of family crests indicated a lifelong oath between a Lord and his Second but in practice it was the closest thing to a declaration of marriage that two men could achieve in a time when such things were still frowned upon. Wufei felt a little uncomfortable after that when he thought of Treize and Zechs being connected to him. If they were sworn to each other and they were now bonded to Wufei, did that mean Wufei was somehow … married … to them as well?

Wufei’s cheeks warmed and he immediately shook his head of that thought.

“And so, they have requested to observe the temple and the Fire Festival,” Wufei finished. He looked around the room. The elders were nodding.

“This seems like an excellent opportunity to gain some exposure for Dragon Glen,” Master O was saying. “We would do well to welcome these esteemed scholars.”

A murmur of agreement went around the room and Wufei nearly sagged with relief.

“Of course, we would like to have dinner with them. Oz is such a distant kingdom we must show our appreciation of their coming such a long way.”

Shit. Wufei had been hoping to avoid that but it would be too suspicious if he refused. He was going to have to talk with Treize and Zechs about what to expect from the elders. Wufei inclined his head.

“I am sure they would be honored. Do you have any more questions for me, Sages? No? Then may we speak about the budget? Since the scholars will be here for a week, I would like to provide for them comfortably….”

The rest of the meeting was spent hammering out the details of the budget. Wufei was shocked by the generosity of the elders. He felt so guilty that he tried to dissuade them from the amount they proposed but no matter how much he protested, they viewed the “scholars’” comfort as a matter of pride to Dragon Glen. Wufei was forced to accept. He left with a purse heavy with gold coins and an even heavier heart at his deception.

Wufei had planned to spend three days in the village: one to visit the elders, another to help the villagers and a third just for himself. Yet, he found himself looking forward to returning home. For the first time there was someone–no, two someones– waiting there for him. His feelings about the guardians were so conflicted. On the one hand he did not trust them and he resented them for complicating his life. On the other hand, he felt young and alive now, like the world was full of possibilities. Every morning he felt a quiver of excitement at what the day might bring and it was all due to Zechs and Treize.

It was a long time before Wufei fell asleep that night. He was troubled by a mix of doubt, guilt, hope and million other things Wufei could not name. Most of all he found himself wondering what it would be like to follow a different path and what it truly meant to come home.

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All was quiet when Wufei rode up to the cottage. There was no one outside to greet him; barely a leaf stirred. Wufei felt a pang of disappointment and beneath that, a little hurt. Of course no one was here to greet him, he roughly chided himself. Treize and Zechs were not fond of their captivity any more than Wufei was. They were not his friends. As soon as Wufei figured out how to release them, they would be gone without a second glance.

Wufei knew that and yet what a fool he was! Like a little boy he had been excited to tell the two men about his trip to the village and to show them the new clothes he had bought them. He had already imagined their silly banter as they tried on the new cloaks, tunics and leggings. It was all quite pathetic and Wufei told himself he was grateful for the stark reminder of what they really were to each other. He needed to stop daydreaming and focus on returning to his normal life as guardian.

Wufei slid down his horse with a sigh. Nataku fluttered anxiously around him as he began unburdening Shenlong of the many packages tied to her saddle.

“I’m fine,” he told the little dragon. “I have you, don’t I?” Wufei extended his arm so Nataku could perch on his shoulder. He stroked her iridescent scales. “Ah well, enough of that. Let’s get these things inside, shall we?”

Wufei led Shenlong to the stable where he brushed her down and replenished her water and oats before returning to the front of the cottage. He was reaching for the packages he had left there when the door opened and Treize and Zechs whisked them away.

“Huh?” Caught off balance, Wufei stumbled.

“Welcome, home, Elf.” Treize beamed. He gestured for Wufei to enter.

Wufei made it just past the threshold where he stopped, stunned.

Treize and Zechs had scrubbed the cottage so clean it almost sparkled. The stone floors were spotless and they had lain down new sweet-smelling rushes. Someone had gathered bundles of dried lavender and a fragrant bunch crackled in the fireplace, filling the cottage with its sharp clean fragrance.

The old rocky table with its one bench had been replaced by a larger sturdier table of beautifully knotted pine. On either side were two long benches which could seat up to six guests. Wufei did not know how they managed it, but Zechs and Treize had patched up the leaks in the roof that had been too high for him to reach. Wufei spun around. He was so preoccupied he had not noticed, but they had even replaced the charred door.

What struck Wufei most though was the wine, rabbit stew and crumbled cheese waiting for him on the table. At the fireplace, a pot of water was bubbling, ready for his bath.

“This …,” Wufei croaked, horrified to find a lump rising in his throat. No one had ever done something like this for him and he had to quickly turn away before Zechs and Treize could see his expression.

“Elf?”

Treize and Zechs came up behind Wufei, their voices uncertain. “Did we do too much?” Zechs asked gruffly. “We did not mean to be presumptuous.”

“No it is wonderful.” Wufei turned to the guardians once he finally mastered his emotions. “Thank you. Everything is beautiful.”

Treize frowned. “You do not seem very happy.”

“No … I’m just not to used to things like this.” Wufei was glowering; he blinked rapidly trying to force back the tears that seemed determined to make a fool of him. Maybe it was exhaustion from the trip or the cumulative effect of the emotional turmoil of the past few days but Wufei felt exposed and fragile in a way he had not in years. To his horror, a sob escaped him.

“Excuse me; I forgot something outside,” he croaked as he barreled past Treize and Zechs out of the cottage.

Even then he could not escape the irony of the situation. Once outside, Wufei did not know where to go. He had never needed to get away from anyone before since he was always alone. Wufei finally headed to a small clearing not far from the temple. He sank onto the grass. What was happening to him? When had he become so emotional?

Of course, Wufei should have known there was no escaping beings like Treize and Zechs–not ordinarily and certainly not with the connection they now shared. Sure enough, the two guardians materialized beside him within a matter of seconds.

“If we did something to offend you, we prefer if you let us know,” Zechs said quietly.

Treize nodded. “If you don’t tell us, how can we fix it?”

“It’s not you. Everything is fine: the food … the table … the door….” Wufei buried his face in his hands. “Gods, it was so much easier being alone. Why couldn’t things stay that way? Then I’d never know….”

“Never know what, Elf?” Treize knelt in front of Wufei.

“How lonely I was.”

Wufei wrapped his arms around himself. He wished he could go away from this place, wished this burden of duty was no longer his to bear. How could he go back to his old life once he figured out how to free Treize and Zechs? How was he ever going to pretend to be happy when all he could see in front of him was a lifetime of emptiness?

“Oh, Wufei.” Treize pulled Wufei into his arms. “Whatever happens in the future, we are here for you now. We are guardians and we are yours. We will protect you no matter what, even if that protection is from your own loneliness.”

Treize kissed the top of Wufei’s head and Wufei did not protest. The warmth of Treize’s body seemed to be the only thing that could ease the knot of pain inside of him. When Zechs captured his palm and kissed the pulse at his wrist, Wufei could only shiver. He had fought this for so long but he was tired of denying the yearning inside of him.

Wufei moaned as Zechs’ kisses moved up his arm to the silky skin of his bicep. Was it so wrong to give into what Treize and Zechs were clearly offering? They belonged to him if only for a moment and they wanted him. Was it so wrong to want them too? If he was going to be alone he might as well have some memories to look back on. One day when he was old and his duty on this mountain had ended, he would think on this and remember that his sacrifice meant something. He would be able to say he had protected his people and that once a long long time ago he had been desired. Not for his power, or his heritage or his knowledge, but for himself.

Wufei reached for each of the guardians. He squeezed Treize’s and Zechs’ hands.

“Please,” he said hoarsely. “Make love to me now.”

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Once Wufei uttered those words there was no taking them back–not with the intensity of the two guardians’ desire for him. Wufei could practically feel the heat of their combined gazes upon him.

Zechs was the first to speak: “Are you sure this is what you want? If you come to us we want you to have no regrets.”

Treize nodded. “There will be no going back to separate beds after this. We want you too badly to let you keep running away from us. If you are positive you want us then we will take good care of you. Zechs and I will give you more pleasure than you ever imagined.”

Wufei thought for a moment. He did not doubt the seriousness of Treize’s and Zechs’ words. They meant everything they said, but was he ready for this? Would not becoming their lover only make their separation all the more painful when it finally came? Wufei bit his lip. He knew it would. Yet for all of that it was worth it. Everything in his life had been laid out for him from the day he was born. He had never had to take a risk on anything and it had brought him comfort and security, but was he happy? For the first time in his life Wufei was ready to take that risk and he was going to make it count. If there were pain afterwards … well, he would deal with that then.

Wufei turned to the two men who would be his lovers. “Yes, I am sure,” he insisted.

Wufei let Zechs and Treize pull him to his feet. He thought they would use their powers and whisk him back to the cottage. Instead he walked between them through the clearing, his hands joined with theirs. Wufei’s heart pounded as he looked up at the two men. He was a tumult of nerves and excitement. He had an idea of what would happen, but he was inexperienced enough to be a little scared. Would it really feel good and would he get to touch Treize and Zechs too?

The two men were so attractive … so masculine. Wufei trained hard and was proud of his body but he was suddenly filled with doubt. He was not nearly as desirable as Treize and Zechs. They were probably being kind when they called him beautiful. Wufei’s thoughts raced until he worked himself up into a ball of tension. He did not realize he was crushing Treize’s and Zechs’ fingers until both men stopped walking. Wufei was so lost in his thoughts he tripped over his feet.

“Elf,” Treize said quietly.

“Yes? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong except for the fact that your hands are like ice and you’ve been squeezing my fingers so tightly they’re about to turn blue,” Zechs remarked but his voice was gentle. “Don’t be anxious, sweetheart. We will treat you well.”

It was the first time the brusque lieutenant had used an endearment with him and Wufei flushed with heat. He felt oddly cherished, moreso than even when Zechs had confessed his desire for him. It made Wufei both eager and shy at the same time. He released his bruising grip on the other men’s hands. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t apologize. It is our duty and our pleasure to take care of you,” Treize murmured.

They were at the cottage door and Wufei’s heart was beating so fast he thought it would burst out of his chest. Yet unlike him, Treize and Zechs were the picture of calm. Zechs held the door open and before Wufei could protest, Treize picked him up and carried him inside. The older man laid him on the thick white furs near the fire. At some point Zechs had also returned.

Wufei bit his lips as he looked from one man to the other. He gave a soft cry as both men began undressing.

“Wait! I’ve never done this before, you know,” he blurted, immediately reddening.

“We know. We’re looking forward to making you ours and ours alone,” Treize replied with a smile.

Zechs was looking at Wufei with the same mixture of fierceness and tenderness as Treize and Wufei realized how serious they were. While he shied away from contemplating their bond and its meaning it seemed Treize and Zechs had not only contemplated it but were eager to make it permanent.

Wufei was breathless as he looked at both men. They stood before him, glorious in their nakedness. How could they want him? And Treize and Zechs clearly wanted him. Wufei’s gaze dropped to their impressive erections. He shivered.

Zechs extended his hand. “Are you just going to watch or are you going to join us?”

“I…” Wufei’s thoughts were so scattered he did not think he could even command his body to move, but his feet propelled him forward and he stumbled into Zechs’ arms.

Zechs enveloped him in his embrace, holding Wufei for a moment before tilting the younger man’s face up and slanting his mouth over his. Zechs’ kiss was slow yet playful. He traced the peaks of Wufei’s upper lip, swept over his bottom lip then dipped inside, causing Wufei to whimper and cling to the older man. Zechs tightened his arms around him, molding their modies together so that Wufei could feel the hard insistence of Zechs’ erection against his belly. When Wufei responded shyly, his tongue stealing out to touch Zechs,’ a shudder went through the older man’s powerful arms.

Wufei’s shock was followed swiftly by pride. That he could affect Zechs so strongly caused heat to bloom inside of him. It made him bold. He ran his hands along Zechs’ arms, feeling taut muscle and the power lying quiescent there. Zechs’ chest was broad, heavy, honed from years of wielding a sword. The skin of his shoulders and back was stippled and ridged with scars Wufei had never noticed before and he touched each one now with wonder. One scar slashed diagonally across Zechs’ chest, starting at his left shoulder and ending just above his right nipple. Wufei murmured sypmathetically as he traced the puckered skin. Compared to the rugged masculinity of the rest of his body Zechs’ pale nipples seemed delicate–surprising points of vulnerability on such an imposing frame. Wufei bent his head and captured one tender nubbin. He suckled gently and Zechs groaned, throwing his head back.

Wufei pulled away. “You like that?”

“Hmm? Yes.” Zechs looked at Wufei with heavy-lidded eyes. “And if I remember correctly so do you.”

“Oh … ah….” Wufei was pinned in place by Zechs’ gaze and the husky timbre of his voice.

Zechs smiled. He glanced at a spot somewhere above Wufei’s head and Wufei did not have to turn around to know that Treize was standing behind him. He could feel the heat of the other man’s body at his elbow and smell his scent. Though Treize did not speak or touch him, that living presence behind Wufei heightened his senses in anticipation. The moment stretched out until the very air seemed to quiver, mirroring the tension in his body. A helpless tremor seized Wufei and he made a small sound, half excitement, half questioning what the men would do next.

“I think it’s time to undress you,” Treize said as though he had been waiting for that subtle plea to touch Wufei. He kissed Wufei’s neck, hot tongue tracing his pulse. Wufei gasped and Treize’s mouth widened, suckling delicate flesh. He was devouring him and Wufei strained in Treize’s embrace. Wherever Treize touched him a vibration thrummed through his body. Wufei had never felt anything like it.

“Tr…Treize?” he asked, confused.

It was Zechs who responded, molding his body to Wufei’s back. “You feel it? His power entering you?”

“P–power?” Wufei croaked, struggling to pay attention as Treize sucked his index finger into his mouth.

“Mm hmm, just a little. Shall I let you feel mine?”

“I’m not sure I underst–ah!” Wufei shouted. He rose on tiptoe, teetering between the two men. Power swelled in him. Where Treize’s energy was thick and concentrated like slow-moving honey, Zechs’ power zinged through him–white-hot, piercing and electric. The two opposing sensations left Wufei off balance and it was only the beginning as the two men began pumping more energy into him.

Wufei did not think anything could be more intense than the physical pleasure Zechs and Treize had shown him but now he realized how wrong he was. Just as their bodies caressed, Treize’s and Zechs’ power reached deep inside of Wufei to touch the naked molten core of energy inside of him. Wufei shouted and his knees buckled as pleasure flooded his body in a single pure wave. He would have fallen if Treize was not there to catch him.

“I’ve got you,” Treize was murmuring but Wufei barely heard him. The guardians’ power was still flowing into him, melding with his until Wufei could not tell where his power began and where theirs ended. All he knew was ecstasy bordering on pain. It kept expanding, twanging inside of Wufei until it built to a crescendo. It was more than Wufei could bear. His eyes flew wide and his throat worked soundlessly as he orgasmed. Every spurt of his cock was echoed by another deeper hidden pulse inside of him. Overwhelmed, Wufei shook in Treize’s arms. He did not even have the breath to cry out. He could only ride the intense waves of sensation until they subsided.

Wufei lay stunned, twitching from the aftershocks of pleasure. His whole body felt as if it were crackling with energy. When Treize brushed a hand over his cheek, Wufei whimpered. The tiniest sensations were now magnified so that even the brush of a fingertip caused electricity to curl through him. When Wufei thought of what that meant for the night ahead something very close to panic rose in him. He clutched at Treize’s tunic.

“I … I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle this.”

“Handle what, Elf?”

“Tonight … the rest.” Wufei gestured helplessly. “If it’s already this much…” he trailed off.

“Ah,” Treize murmured. “Your problem is you are thinking about this as something you have to manage but all you need to do is enjoy the pleasure we will give you.”

Zechs nodded. “To be wary of pain is natural but you’re the only man I know who is suspicious of pleasure,” the blond teased Wufei. “We enjoy touching you and you enjoy it when we touch you. Nothing can be simpler than that.”

Their words made sense and Wufei’s body knew the truth of them best, but Wufei had sealed off this part of his life for so long that he was nervous. He was not scared of the pleasure but of what his own passion might reveal about himself. Already all his long-held notions were crumbling, shattered just like the seal that had imprisoned Zechs and Treize. Who was he now, and who would he be after tonight? Wufei searched himself and found that as much as he was afraid of losing his old self, he was more frightened of not knowing who he could be. Wufei took a deep breath and nodded.

“All right,” he told the two men.

“Good,” Treize rumbled. He drew Wufei’s fingers to his lips, then he reached for his tunic.

Perhaps it was years of companionship or the power flowing between them, but Zechs and Treize undressed Wufei without a jarring movement or an utterred word. In pefect coordination, Treize slipped Wufei’s robes off his shoulders, while Zechs pulled his tunic over his head. Zechs kneeled at Wufei’s feet, removing his shoes so that Treize could peel away Wufei’s scarlet leggings. The older men pulled back and then there was nothing left between them except heat and the expectation of pleasure.

Wufei’s heart was thumping. He looked down and noticed his belly was smeared with his seed. He wiped hastily at it.

Zechs tugged his hand away. “Don’t do that.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we like seeing the evidence of your passion. Now it’s completely gone to waste. I guess we’ll just have to replace it,” Zechs said mischievously.

Wufei moaned. If they kept this up he was going to go crazy before the night was over.

“Come, we’ve tarried too long already,” Treize said. “It’s time to complete our bond.”

“Yes,” Zechs agreed.

Wufei took a deep breath as they lowered themselves to the furs. “I want this. I don’t know what it will mean for my life here or even how long you will be with me, but for now, I want to be bonded with you.”

“Not just for now. Forever,” Treize insisted. “A bond with us is forever. You have to be very sure of this, Elf.”

“I know,” Wufei said, and he meant it.

Treize and Zechs enclosed Wufei in their embrace. Treize sat against the wall and pulled Wufei against his chest. He kissed his neck then moved up to capture the soft lobe of Wufei’s ear.

Wufei shivered as Treize’s kisses continued, hot, slow and sweet. The older man found his nipples and he tweaked the tiny sensitive buds. Sensation shot to Wufei’s groin. He arched, moaning deeply.

“So lovely,” Treize murmured, his fingers pinching and pulling, circling and rubbing. Wufei’s husky cries were fevered and they only intensified as Zechs kissed down his stomach. His golden head burrowed between Wufei’s legs; a skillful mouth surrounded the tip of Wufei’s cock and began a gentle suction. Wufei shouted and almost rose out of Treize’s lap but the older man brought him down to earth with soothing words and even softer kisses. He massaged Wufei’s tense thighs then spread them wider, giving Zechs better access to his delights.

“Hah … ah.” Wufei panted. His entire body shook as Zechs teased his foreskin. Zechs’ mouth widened to envelop more of his cock, until his nose tickled Wufei’s pubic hair.

“Gods …. ” Wufei clutched at Zechs’ hair. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as the blond bobbed his head. Wufei was overcome as pleasure seized him. The powerful suction of Zechs’ mouth combined with the devilish flick of the older man’s tongue. Zechs was licking along the thick vein of Wufei’s shaft and worming against his slit. Underneath it all was the tingle of magick and a tenderness that made Wufei’s heart turn over. He had denied himself pleasure but now he realized he was missing something else:

Simple affection. Now, each caress from Treize and Zechs was a reminder and a redemption.

“Are you ready for us, Wufei?”

“Yes.” How could he not be after all they had shared tonight?

Zechs and Treize shifted so that Wufei found himself between Zechs’ legs and Treize behind him. Zechs tugged Wufei forward.

“Treize, hand him the oil.”

Wufei flushed. He looked from Zechs to Treize and back again. “You mean me…in Zechs?” he stammered.

“Yes, unless you don’t want to?” Zechs reclined on the furs. Languidly, he spread his legs, baring the rosy entrance to his body.

Gods … gods. Wufei stared. Zechs was amazing, so sensual. To think that he was offering himself to him! Just imagining being inside of Zechs made Wufei’s cock so hard he ached. He did not even know how he was going to get inside the other man without losing it. Wufei tried to say something but only a strangled noise emerged.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Zechs chuckled. He poured some oil into his palm and smeared it onto Wufei’s cock.

Wufei’s entire body jerked. He brushed Zechs’ hand away. “No, I’ll do it. I’ll come if you touch me any more.”

“Very well.”

“I have to stretch you first, right?”

“That would be nice.”

Wufei nodded and pursed his lips. His brow furrowed as he slipped one finger into Zechs. He wiggled that digit, working the tight seal of Zechs’ muscles until bit by bit he eased into the older man. Zechs made a sound of encouragement, while Wufei watched, fascinated as his finger was swallowed into tight heat. If Zechs was this snug around a finger, what would he feel like around his cock? Wufei moaned but he forced himself to focus on Zechs’s pleasure. He thrust his finger in and out, attentive to every move of the blond’s body.

When Zechs began groaning, Wufei slipped another finger in, reaching deep inside of him. He touched something and Zechs shouted, rising off the furs. Wufei looked up to find the blond’s face contorted with pleasure.

“Does it hurt?” Wufei croaked. He was perspiring. Seeing Zechs unraveling right before his eyes, all Wufei wanted to do was pull back and sink his cock into the delicious heat of Zechs’ body but he had to be sure. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Zechs after all the care the blond had shown him.

No it doesn’t hurt.” Zechs’ voice was husky. “It feels good.”

“Okay.” Relieved, Wufei thrust his fingers faster, this time aiming for that special spot deep inside.

Zechs came alive beneath him. “Ah! Yes! Right there!” he shouted. He grasped his cock and started stroking it. Zechs was large and his cock jutted long and proud from a nest of golden curls. The tip of him glistened with precum and as he pumped his erection he spread it along the shaft.

It was too much. Wufei could not hold back anymore. “Zechs, I need you.”

“Yes, now,” Zechs urged him, spreading his legs wider.

Wufei did not have to be told twice. He positioned himself between Zechs’ legs and sank into the blond’s welcoming body. The sensation took Wufei’s breath away. And when he moved–pleasure and more pleasure than Wufei had ever experienced.consuming him. No, not pleasure, ecstasy. Zechs was tight and he wascaressing every inch of Wufei’s cock. Instinct took over and Wufei started thrusting hard and deep, aiming for that node which had this powerful man crying out in his arms. Zechs was moaning, moving with Wufei, hips rolling up to meet his thrusts. Still Wufei wanted to get closer. He hooked Zechs’ legs over his forearms, leaning forward until the blond’s knees were almost pressed against his chest.

Zechs was hot, tight and so perfect Wufei forgot about Treize until he felt large hands cupping him and then the older man licking between his cheeks.

Wufei’s entire body went rigid with shock and he clutched at Zechs. Somehow in spite of all of Treize’s teasing, Wufei never believed the older man would actually do something so intimate and to do it now of all times–!

“What?” Zechs gasped.

“Z-Zechs … he’s….” Wufei’s voice rose.

Zechs shifted to look over Wufei’s shoulder. “Yes. He’s very good at that don’t you think?”

“Ah! But….” Wufei’s voice fragmented. He squirmed as Treize teased around his pucker then plunged inside of him. His tongue, hot and slick, mimicked the very movements of Wufei’s cock inside of Zechs.Wufei shivered and cried out. He lost his grip on Zechs but the blond locked his legs around Wufei, preventing him from pulling away.

“You’re not going to leave me hanging are you?” Zechs emphasized his words by squeezing around Wufei’s cock.

“Nn…no….”

“I didn’t think so. Now why don’t you finish where you left off? You feel so good inside of me.”

“But Treize–”

“Knows exactly what he’s doing. Don’t you, Treize?”

“Mmhmm.” Treize’s tongue darted into Wufei again.

Wufei reddened. How could something so embarrassing feel so good? Wufei did not know how he could please Zechs with Treize doing that to him. Yet, from the eager noises Treize was making, the older man was clearly not interested in stopping. Wufei had no choice. Despite the riot of sensation coursing through him, he drew a shaky breath and slowly thrust into Zechs again. The blond rocked his hips up to meet him.

“You’re doing wonderfully, Elf,” Zechs told Wufei with a smile.

Wufei kissed him, sinking into his warmth. Never in Wufei’s wildest dreams had he imagined making love to a man like Zechs.

Behind them, Treize pulled back and circled Wufei’s hole with fingers. The touch was just as foreign to Wufei as Treize’s earlier caress. He could not help tightening up but Treize massaged his tight sphincter, coaxing Wufei to open up to him. Gradually Wufei relaxed. When Treize returned, a finger dipped into him, testing him–deepening his pleasure. Wufei moaned. Was this what Zechs felt when Wufei touched him?

“I’m going to enter you now, Wufei.” Treize leaned forward. The head of his cock nudging Wufei’s entrance felt impossibly large.

“I don’t think that will fit,” Wufei groaned.

“Of course it will fit.” Zechs teased. “I took you, didn’t I?”

Wufei could not deny that. He shuddered as Treize’s cock eased into him, stretching him inch by slow inch, . Wufei’s body accommodated him but just. Treize was so large to Wufei it didn’t feel like he could move at all.

“Am I hurting you, Elf?”

Wufei immediately wanted to say yes but once he got over his initial panic, he realized that Treize’s cock inside of him was not painful, merely strange. “No,” he said shakily.

“Then relax. You’re so tense.” Treize’s voice was strained.

“I’m trying,” Wufei whimpered.

Zechs cupped Wufei’s face. “Kiss me, Wufei.”

Wufei swallowed and nodded. He brushed his mouth against Zechs’ and the other man immediately deepened the kiss. Their tongues tangled together while Zechs’ hands stroked over Wufei’s body. He stoked the fire of Wufei’s arousal until Wufei moaned and forgot all his inhibitions and opened up to Treize. The older man was caressing Wufei with the same light touches as Zechs. He whispered words of encouragement, praising Wufei for everything from his darky silky hair to the tight embracing heat of his body. Wufei felt the initial resistance of his muscles then Treize was sliding home. He was buried deep, filling Wufei so completely that the younger man could only cry out in wonder.

Treize had started a gentle thrusting inside of him. It nudged Wufei forward, pressing him deeper into Zechs, causing pleasure to reverberate from Treize to Wufei to Zechs and back again. Between the two guardians, Wufei was buffeted by pleasure on all sides. He was caught between two fires and Wufei did not want to escape. He flushed from head to toe as he imagined the picture they made but it only aroused him further.

They found a rhythm together and when power began flowing through them again, Wufei lost all sense of time and place. He knew only that he was in Treize’s and Zechs’ arms and that it was good.

“You’re both beautiful … so beautiful…” Treize growled, nipping Wufei’s ear. He bent low over him as his thrusts grew heavier and faster, each one striking Wufei’s prostate. Treize’s fingers dug into Wufei’s hips, pushing him further and further toward the brink and even as Wufei shouted and begged, he was driving into Zechs with the same intensity. The blond’s skin was flushed, his hair a tangled nest around his face, his mouth slack in ecstasy. He never stopped moving or caressing Wufei’s cock with every squeeze of his inner muscles.

Wufei flung his head back as their passion built to a frenzied pace. He was rocking back and forth from the cradle of Treize’s arms to the welcoming tightness of Zechs’ body. Their groans rose and mingled as the smell of sex and sweat filled the air. Wufei felt a familiar tightness building in his loins and his power gathering in him like a storm.

Going to fill you up,” Treize growled, pumping into Wufei in hard short jabs. He bit into Wufei’s shoulder and Wufei’s eyes went wide.

“Ungh … I’m coming!” He cried out. He shuddered and his cock spurted into Zechs.

“Yes!” Zechs’ shouted, his hand a blur over his cock. He exploded, shooting semen in thick white pulses all over his belly.

Treize held out until the very end, driving into them both until neither Wufei nor Zechs could catch their breaths but finally all their squirming and moaning set Treize off too. He tensed, filling Wufei with warmth. He listed forward and they all collapsed on the furs in one sticky pile.

Long moments passed before anyone could speak. Treize’s weight on top of Wufei was oppressive but he could not bring himself to ask him to move. Wufei felt more than satisfaction. He felt fulfilled.

“Gods, that was amazing,” Treize breathed, rolling away from Wufei. His seed was dripping down Wufei’s thighs but the younger man was too tired to care. Wufei slumped against Zechs who curled his arms around him. He did not ask Wufei to pull out.

“Are you all right, Elf?” Treize had stretched out next to Zechs on the furs. He reached over to stroke Wufei’s cheek.

“Mm,” Wufei purred. He was so full of energy he almost expected to see his power haloed around them. Now he understood why most mages used sex to gain energy. Everthing else paled in comparison.

Zechs shifted Wufei and gently disengaged their bodies. “You felt so good inside of me, Wufei. Next time, I will return the favor.” As he spoke, Zechs cupped and kneaded Wufei’s buttocks. Wufei made a small sound and shivered. Zechs was even larger than Treize. After what he just experienced, Wufei anticipated a very …. challenging time with Zechs.

The fire had burned down to a few crackling embers and in the fading light the sigils on Treize’s and Zechs’ bodies glowed–proof of their newly forged bond. Lethargy seeped into Wufei’s bones but even as his eyelids drooped , his thoughts were awhirl. Tomorrow they would begin preparing for the Fire Festival and Wufei’s plan would finally be put to the test.

These past few days had been like a dream with the cottage their own little world. In the guardians’ arms Wufei had almost forgotten the magnitude of the challenges ahead of them. There was getting past the Fire Festival, yes, but what about afterward? Wufei had not dared to think beyond that. They were bonded but he could not in good conscience ask Zechs and Treize to stay with him on this mountain after being imprisoned there for so long. There was so much of the world Wufei had never seen, himself. He wanted so badly to run away and leave this life behind him but how could he explain to the Elders that countless of generations of tradition were for naught? How could he tell them that the very foundation of everything they believed was an illusion? No matter how hard he thought about it there was no clear solution. Wufei sighed heavily.

“Elf? Are you all right?” Treize asked.

“I’m fine.”

“Then why the big sigh?”

“I’m just tired,” Wufei lied.

“Then rest. Tomorrow will come soon enough.”

And all his troubles with it, Wufei thought. He closed his eyes and for tonight at least tried to forget.

—————————

Notes: 1. The suffix “tzu” means “master” or “teacher”

Table of contents for The Broken Seal

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four

The Broken Seal
by Michalyn
Rating: MA

When Wufei woke the next morning, the rain had disappeared as though it had never been. A slice of brilliant blue sky peeked through the tiny window above his desk and sunlight poured onto his bed. For a moment, Wufei basked in the warmth, his mind pleasantly blank in the fuzzy aftermath of sleep. Yet, all too soon he remembered the previous night’s catastrophe. Wufei’s cheeks burned. What was he going to do? After … that … had happened, he’d left the two warriors downstairs and had hidden in his room for the rest of the night. Wufei had been afraid that Treize and Zechs would follow him, but luckily even their presumption did not extend that far. Soon after Wufei retired, they had fallen asleep on the makeshift bedding he’d given them. Now, twenty-four hours later, Wufei still did not know what to do about the two intruders in his living room.

That is, the two intruders who were supposed to be in his living room… Wufei frowned as he descended from the loft to the main room below. He looked about the room, but the only evidence of his guests was the neatly folded blankets stacked in the corner near the fireplace. Could they have gone to the village? Wufei fought down a surge of panic. They were guardians not demons right? If they went to the village there should be no problem, he tried to tell himself. People would wonder about their outdated dress but Dragon Glen was no stranger to travelers. As long as they suppressed their powers and did not breathe a word about being on the mountain everything should be fine.

Too bad he didn’t believe it.

Wufei ran to the door. A million scenarios ran through his head and none of them were good. As he passed the kitchen, he spotted his rune stones on the table. Wufei hesitated. Should he … or shouldn’t he? Hadn’t last night proven the stones were as good as useless? On a whim Wufei hurried to the table and stuffed the runes into his pocket. They might be useless but it was the only thing he had. He would need a miracle if Treize and Zechs were not what they claimed to be but he could only hope the gods were with him. Heart pounding, Wufei was just lifting the door latch when he was stopped by a string of blistering curses.

“God damn it, you insufferable beast! Come back here!”

There was the sound of footsteps followed by an incredible crash. Betsy bleated loudly and her bell clanged in a way that could only mean she was galloping about the yard.

Wufei blinked. What in the heavens was going on?

Whatever he had been expecting, nothing prepared Wufei for the sight that greeted him when he dashed outside.

At one corner of Betsy’s corral, a flustered-looking Treize was clutching an empty pail. Not ten feet away, Zechs was sprawled in the mud, his pristine robes soiled and his scarlet cloak twisted in the muck. Betsy, on the other side of the corral, eyed the two guardians warily.

“What’s all this rukus about so early in the morning? Can’t you two act civilized for once? What are you doing to Betsy and why is Zechs in the mud?” Wufei demanded.

“Damned ingrate,” Zechs growled, spitting out mud as he rose to his feet. “He’s just as bad as the goat.”

“What!?” Wufei was indignant. He glared at Zechs.

“I’m going inside, Treize,” Zechs said, igorning Wufei. “I’ve had enough of making a jackass of myself trying to milk that she-demon of a goat. And I refuse to add insult to injury by listening to this mageling’s tirade when we were only trying to help him. Maybe you’ll have better luck than I did.” The blond stalked off. His cloak slapped wetly against his legs, leaving unsightly smears against his pale skin.

Wufei turned to Treize. “What was that about?”

Treize sighed. “We woke up and thought we’d help with breakfast by getting the milk.” Treize nodded toward Betsy. “Obviously we did not succeed. I tried to milk her while Zechs held her but she would have none of it. Needless to say, in that kind of situation it does not help one’s pride to have the goat’s owner come out shouting imprecations. ”

“I was not shouting imprecations,” Wufei hissed. “I come downstairs and the first thing I hear is the two of you shouting and Betsy running about the yard as though her life depended on it. What was I supposed to think? If you’d only asked I would have told you that Betsy is extremely skittish. She’s very particular about who she will let milk her. The two of you as strangers would have never succeeded. You should have just left it to me.”

Wufei took the pail from Treize and went over to Betsy. Murmuring soothingly to the nanny goat, he patted her on the flank then placed the bucket under her. Before long, the morning quiet was filled with the rhythmic drumming of her milk hitting the pail. When Wufei was done, he rose with the pail now filled with thick frothy milk. He raised an eyebrow as he walked past Treize.

“Now we can have breakfast,” he said.

————————————–

Wufei carried the milk inside with Treize follwing quietly behind him. He almost dropped the pail, however, when he entered the cottage and found Zech bathing in front of the fire. The blond’s wet hair clung to his neck in a gleaming swath. His large muscular body was ridiculously cramped in the wooden tub meant for Wufei’s smaller proportions. Yet, what should have been a comical sight was anything but as Wufei got quite the view of Zechs’ broad back and slick golden skin. Heat pooled in his belly. Wufei swallowed and hurried to the table, determined not to look at Zechs.

Treize of course had no such qualms. While Wufei was setting the milk down and fishing out an iron pot and some spices with which to make some porridge, he heard the General amble over to Zechs and begin murmuring to him. The gentle splashing sounds of Zechs washing himself as well as the men’s talking stopped for a moment and then resumed. Wufei did not allow himself to think about what might account for that significant pause. Instead he opened the kitchen window, grateful for the crisp air on his hot cheeks.

Wufei whistled for Nataku. The little dragon quickly answered, flapping over to Wufei and resting on his shoulder. She rubbed against his neck.

“There you are, girl. Have you eaten?” Wufei asked, petting Nataku’s scales.

The dragon made a contented sound and settled more comfortably against Wufei.

Wufei laughed. “I’ll take that as a yes then. Unless I can entice you with some of these?” He held out some of the prickly dragon fruit that had earned its name because dragons loved it so much.

Nataku gobbled the pieces up from Wufei, but not without butting her head worriedly against the bandages on his arms. The pain had eased so much from the wounds that Wufei had all but forgotten them. When he remembered that this was due to Zechs’ medicinal salve, Wufei felt a little guilty for having been so short with the blond earlier.

When Nataku was finished eating, she flew up to her favorite perch in the rafters above Wufei’s bedroom and promptly dozed off. Wufei returned to the ingredients he had been preparing for the porridge, hoping that Zechs would be done with his bath so he could use the fire. Deciding to wait a few minutes, just in case… Wufei headed towards the fireplace with his ingredients in hand.

Zechs and Treize were sitting together on the floor cushions. Zechs had wrapped himself in a blanket and since Wufei saw nothing of the blond’s soiled clothes, he guessed they had been washed and hung out to dry. It reminded him that the two guardians really only had the clothes on their backs; if their robes happened to get soiled, like in Zechs’ case, they were not left with many options.

Wufei frowned. Even his weekly laundry rounds would literally leave the two men naked. Wufei didn’t have much to spend, but it was probably wise to get Treize and Zechs some new clothes when Jared stopped by later in the day. Besides, more normal clothes would make the guardians a lot less conspicuous. Dressed as they were now, Wufei could not pass them off as simple travellers even if he wanted to.

Wufei placed the pot on the fire and poured some milk into it, followed by the oats and the spices he had taken from the pantry. He stirred the mixture as the aromas of cinnamon, brown sugar and nutmeg hovered deliciously in the air.

Treize sniffed. “What are you making?” he asked. Next to him, Zechs nodded. Both men seemed to have recovered from their foul moods.Wufei tried not to look at the way their bodies leaned into each other.

“Just some porridge for us.”

“Hmm, smells good. I didn’t know you had a talent for cooking, Elf,” Zechs rumbled.

“Elf?” Wufei raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?” Wufei growled and Treize laughed.

“I think he’s trying to tell us that he objects to being called tiny, Zechs.”

“Oh?” Zechs chuckled. “And why not? He doesn’t even come up to my chin.”

Wufei set his ladle down with a clang. “Keep that up and at least one of us will not be getting a meal. And that does not include me.”

Zechs made a placating gesture. “Beg pardon,” he murmured, but a smile hovered about his lips.

Wufei ignored him. Despite his threatening words, he set three bowls on a large wooden tray and ladled some porridge into each. Treize and Zechs accepted their portions gratefully and taking his own bowl, Wufei started to eat. He sat opposite the two men, occasionally glancing up to answer some odd question about the meal … or to sneak a glance at their continued touching. Zechs’ hand was resting casually upon Treize’s thigh and when a few strands of the blond’s hair fell into his face, Treize brushed them away without a thought.

Wufei didn’t want to stare but it was impossible not to. So rarely did he have the opportunity to observe visitors of any kind, much less two as different as these. He had read much about the … ways of men … but it was another thing entirely to observe a couple first hand, nevermind they were not really human. Besides, even he had to admit they were somewhat attractive. Not that it had any effect on him of course… Wufei quickly looked away when Treize glanced in his direction. They ate in a charged silence, though Wufei couldn’t fathom why it would be that way. He thought he felt the other men’s eyes on him, but when he looked up, they were focused on their own meals.

When they were finished, Wufei rose to gather up the bowls. “I’ll go wash up,” he began, but Treize stopped him. He reached out and encircled Wufei’s wrist.

“Don’t go. You’ve satisfied our hunger, now let us repay our debt. We haven’t forgotten the way you responded to us,” Treize husked. He bent his head to mouth the throbbing pulse point at Wufei’s wrist.

Wufei’s breath lodged in his throat. “That’s … that’s quite all right. It was just a simple meal,” he stammered. His heart was pounding so hard he could hear the blood rushing in his ears.

“You know, with that prickly attitude and all the protesting you do, a man might never guess how hotly you burn. This morning, in my anger, I almost forgot it, too. But I remember it very clearly now,” Zechs purred. He took Wufei’s free hand and in unison, he and Treize tugged on their captured limbs until Wufei toppled forward and landed between them on the cushions.

“What the—Wait a god damned minute!” Wufei struggled to get up. “We are not going through that again,” he said shakily. His eyes darted from Treize to Zechs.

“Why not? There’s no question of your desire for us,” Treize asked. Already, he was leaning close.

“Indeed.” Zechs’ hot breath bathed Wufei’s ear. “Stop fighting us, Elf. Yesterday, we barely had a chance to hold you. Now we have all the time in the world. Let us take you upstairs to that little bed of yours. Treize and I will undress you and show you what it really means to be bonded to us.”

—————————————————–

“What? Th…there’s no way that is going to happen!”

Wufei tried to rise but with Zechs’ lips brushing the sensitive rim of his ear, he just couldn’t seem to get his feet under him. The moment of hesitation was all Treize needed to close the distance between them.

“I really would like to know why you’re so afraid of this,” the older man whispered. “More than that, I want to know what we can do to ease your fears. Will you do that for us, Lovely? Will you tell us how to soothe you?”

Treize’s voice held a note of promise that sent heat spiralling through Wufei. He raised his hand to push Treize away but somehow his fingers ended up tangled in the other man’s tunic. Then, Treize was cupping the back of his head and kissing him soundly.

Wufei’s eyes fluttered closed. Warmth spread through his veins as Treize’s mouth latched onto the skin of his throat. Why couldn’t he resist this? It had to be magic … a sinister spell of some sort. How else could he explain the way his resolve melted beneath Zechs’ and Treize’s kisses like snow on a summer’s day? It had to be something powerful and arcane. Wufei was sure of it.

While Wufei’s thoughts jumbled together, Zechs’ large hand had settled on his knee. Slowly, slowly it slid upwards, and Wufei moaned as Zechs’ hand worked its way beneath his tunic. His cry was transformed to a desperate shout when Zechs fondled his burgeoning erection. The sensation was so unexpected, so electric that Wufei’s eyes flew wide open.

“Zechs…I…”

“Mmm….” Treize’s mouth covered Wufei’s and the older man drank in his cry, his lips brushing Wufei’s in gentle sweeps. “Such pretty sounds you make. I’d like to hear more.”

Wufei shivered, caught between Treize’s teasing mouth and Zechs’ stroking hand. The blond was rubbing over the crown of his erection in a hot circular motion that made Wufei’s entire body clench in ecstasy. He heard his ragged moans and the wild sound he made when Zechs embraced him even more tightly but he might as well have been listening to a stranger for all he could do to stop them. Wufei’s tunic was tugged over his head and he barely had a chance to catch his breath before he was lowered to the cushions and Treize and Zechs stretched out, forming a living wall on either side of him.

Their large bodies pressed against along Wufei’s sides, hot and demanding. Zechs and Treize were looking down at him with such expressions of hunger that Wufei couldn’t help feeling like a lamb thrown to the wolves.

Yet, for all their insistence, Treize’s hands smoothing over his belly were gentle, and the warm kiss Zechs placed on Wufei’s shoulder was meant more to soothe than to excite. Such ferocity and tenderness melded together ignited Wufei as never before. He was trembling, aflame with a desire he couldn’t suppress. Wufei stared at the rune mark over Treize’s heart. He wanted them, he realized with startling clarity. And if that sigil spoke true, Zechs and Treize were his. Would it be so terrible to give in?

Wufei reached out and twined his fingers with Zechs’. With his other hand, he grasped Treize and pulled him closer. “Please,” he groaned, unaware of the delicate arching of his body or the way his hips pressed against Zechs’s palm.

Zechs’ eyebrows shot to his hairline, the planes of his face sharpened by lust. A rough sound burst from him as he watched Wufei. On Wufei’s other side, Treize leaned in to kiss Wufei’s cheek.

“Oh my darling, you are not going to regret giving yourself to us,” he murmured huskily.

“No, ” Zechs agreed, hot breath washing over Wufei. His mouth hovered over one berry-dark nipple. The tiny bud puckered up, demanding attention. Zechs soothed Wufei, shaping his nipple upright with the changing textures of lips, teeth and tongue. Wufei cried out, his fingers tangling in Zechs’ hair. The blond braced a hand between Wufei’s shoulder blades, holding him arched while he feasted.

Wufei writhed and moaned. The pleasure only doubled as Treize bent to his other nipple and worried it between his teeth. Never lifting his head, Treize eased off Wufei’s leggings and Wufei’s swollen cock sprang free. The pink cap of him shone with wetness that spoke more of Wufei’s desire than any words could have.

“What a delicious little thing you are,” Treize moaned, touching a finger to that enticing slickness.

Wufei made an embarassed sound. “I…”

“You are. Delicious … delectable ….” Wufei sucked in his breath as Treize slid down his body. The General’s mouth hovered over his erection.

“Treize, wait. You shouldn’t….”

“Hush, hush. You’re sweeter than the finest honey.” Treize caressed Wufei’s hips; lifted him, spread him.

An uncontrollable shiver seized Wufei. He could only gasp as Zechs moved behind him and cradled him to his chest, easily supporting Wufei’s weight in his arms. Below, Treize held Wufei open. His thumb whispered between his cheeks, circling the furled entrance to his body.

“I was going to suck your pretty cock but I promised to kiss you here didn’t I?”

A rumbling sound bubbled from Zechs’ chest at Treize’s announcement. Wufei felt its vibrations all the way to his toes.

Treize began lowering his head. Wufei moaned. His body prickled with heat and he squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of that forbidden caress. Surely Treize wouldn’t. That sort of thing was … he had to be teasing.

Yet, even as Wufei tried to tell himself that, the warmth of Treize’s breath fanned over him. Wufei cried out and twisted in Zechs’ arms, his emotions racing wildly between shock, desire and dread. If Treize noticed his distress, however he gave no sign of it. He only turned his head and licked Wufei just below the curve of one cheek, right where his ass met his leg. Wufei jerked.

“Please,” he moaned.

“Soon, soon, Elf,” Zechs purred. “Treize is going to make you feel—”

Whatever Zechs had been about to say was interrupted by a sudden loud rapping at the door. An urgent voice echoed beyond the wood: “Master Wufei? Master Wufei are you there?”

———————————

“Oh god!” Wufei bolted to his feet. He straightened his tunic and scrambled into his leggings. What in heaven’s name was he doing? What if it were one of the village elders? The window on the opposite wall was open and wide enough to offer a clear view of the mountain road. Wufei had always used it to keep an eye on anyone who might be coming up the path. Now the sight alone turned his knees to water. What if they had been seen? It was bad enough to have to explain how two strangers had materialized in his home; but to be caught doing … that with them— Wufei made a choked sound. His life would be over.

“Elf?” Treize began.

“Don’t say anything! Just hide yourselves somewhere!” Wufei hissed, scurrying to the door as the knocking became even louder. He took one last deep breath and smoothed a hand over his hair. Then, he slowly opened the door. He found the village merchant waiting on the other side.

“Jared! Ah … good day. You’re a bit early aren’t you?”

“Oh you’re here, Master Wufei. I thought you might have gone up to the temple. Folks in the village thought they saw an explosion of some kind up here last night during the storm. The elders thought I should come earlier to make sure you were okay. Seems like the mountain got the brunt of that bad weather. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, yes of course,” Wufei stammered. “Please thank everyone for their concern, though.” He stared at Jared, searching his expression for anything that might indicate he’d seen them on his way to the cottage. When Jared’s smile remained eager and open, Wufei inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know what he would have done if Jared had seen him with Zechs and Treize.

“And the explosion?” Jared probed, searching Wufei’s features.

“Ah … lightning struck the temple,” Wufei replied. “There was some damage, but nothing I couldn’t fix with a spell or two, myself,” he quickly amended.

The merchant smiled shyly. “I’m relieved. I … we were worried that you might have been hurt all alone up here.”

Wufei flushed. “Oh no. I’m quite fine, thank you. Please let the village know that there is nothing to worry about.”

“I’ll do that. Well, now that I know everything’s fine, I’ve brought you some mail and I have some new candles that I think you might like. They’re real beeswax not tallow, so they burn nice and clean. I got a good deal on them from an Arcadian merchant and since you’re the only one here learned enough to need good light for reading, I thought I’d show them to you first.” Jared ducked his head. “If you’re interested I can give you a nice discount.”

“Real beeswax?” Wufei repeated. The candles probably cost more than they were worth, but he had to admit he was tempted. He often read late into the evening and his spectacles could only help him so much in the weak light of the tallow candles he owned.

“Yup. They’re the real thing, honest.”

“Well…” Wufei bit his lip. “Let me get my regular supplies first and I’ll see how much I have left over.”

Jared nodded and pulled out another satchel. He looked meaningfully at Wufei as he waited for him to open the door. He needed to use the table to measure out the goods. Normally, it would not have been a problem. Normally, though Wufei did not have two powerful guardians for roommates. If Jared had not seen Zechs and Treize before, there was no way he could miss them once he was inside. Wufei stalled, blocking the entryway with his body. What now?

“Master Wufei?” Jared was still balancing the heavy satchel between his palms.

“Ah … yes … please come in.” Wufei took a deep breath and inched the door open. A thousand excuses raced through his head to explain Treize’s and Zechs’ presence to Jared but he couldn’t think of anything that would make sense. All he could be certain of was that as soon as the merchant stepped inside, his life as he knew it would be over. Wufei’s heart was in his throat as the door swung open to reveal his living room.

It was empty.

Wufei’s knees fairly buckled with relief. He didn’t know where the guardians had gone or how they’d managed it, but he could kiss them both for being so prudent. “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?” he quickly suggested to Jared and guided him to the table.

“All right.” Jared spread his supplies out, waiting for Wufei to make his selections.

Wufei cleared his throat. “I’d like to buy a little more flour and rice than I usually do. And do you have any of that salted meat you brought last time?”

“Sure thing. How much more of each would you like?”

“Well I was thinking…”

“Ah! Wait, I almost forgot!” Jared interrupted before Wufei could finish. He handed him a small bundle. “I have some letters for you.”

“Is that so? Thanks.” Wufei didn’t get many visitors but he maintained regular contact with a number of scholars in the outside world. They kept him up-to-date on the latest developments in the world of magick and Wufei in turn shared the fruits of his own studies with them. He published occasional articles, mostly about Dragon Glen’s tradition of magick and the pieces were an additional source of income that he was quite grateful for.

In fact, a few of his articles had been so well received that he’d gotten a number of requests from other mages who wanted to come to Dragon Glen to learn more from him. Wufei always turned them down. Not because the elders would forbid it; quite the contrary. They welcomed the prestige such guests afforded. It was impractical for Wufei to ever leave the mountain because of his role as guardian but they had no objection to a visitor who would be an aid to his duties. No, Wufei simply wasn’t interested in spending the time or energy necessary preparing for a visiting scholar. There was the matter of requesting permission from the elders … finding lodging … transportation … suitable clothing for the temple rituals….

Wufei froze. Wait a minute. Food … clothing … shelter … and the fire festival was coming up…. It was a gamble. Should he risk it? Wufei turned to Jared.

“Jared, I think I’ll be buying some tunics and leggings from you. I need good quality items but nothing too expensive. Oh and they need to be in a large size.” Wufei bit his lip. A plan was slowly forming in his head and with a little luck, he thought it just might work.
—————————————————

“Here, try these on.” Wufei put the bundle of clothes on the table.

Treize and Milliardo walked over and examined the tunics, leggings and folded cloaks. “What are these?” Zechs asked.

“Clothes. Contemporary clothes,” Wufei told him. “If this is going to work, we need to start by making the two of look like the rest of us. Right now you stick out like sore thumbs in those old military outfits.”

“Old? These were cutting edge when we were sealed away,” Treize murmured, fingering the soft wool of his cloak.

“Unfortunately, the only thing they’re on the edge of right now, is history. No one is going to believe you and Zechs are visiting scholars if you come dressed in battle armor from 1000 years ago. Go on, try on the outfits. I think I bought the right size but I’m not sure. If they don’t fit, I’ll need to send for Jared to replace them.”

“All right.” Treize’s cloak dropped to the floor. Beside him, Zechs was already pulling his tunic over his head. Wufei quickly turned around.

“Are you done?” he ground out after a moment.

“Yes, I think so,” Treize mumured slowly. “Wait, Zechs, can you help me with this belt? You seem to have done a marvelous job with yours.”

Zechs grunted and Wufei heard the soft rustling of cloth as the blond helped his partner put himself to rights.

“All right, what do you think?” Treize asked.

Wufei turned around and his breath deserted him. Treize and Zechs looked… Wufei swallowed, unable to speak. The clothes were a perfect fit.

He had bought the typical outfit worn by learned men for Trezie and Zechs: soft belted tunics, leggings and supple ankle boots. Long cloaks completed the ensemble. Treize was wearing a royal blue tunic with contrasting black leggings. His cloak echoed the color of his tunic but in a rich navy that made his eyes appear startlingly blue against the warmth of his complexion. For Zechs’ part, he had abandoned his scarlet uniform for something much more subtle: cloak, tunic and leggings were of the deepest black. With his golden hair and pale skin the effect was breathtaking. Both men looked intelligent, elegant, and painfully attractive. If Wufei had thought them beautiful before, seeing them in modern clothing brought the point home now with heart-stopping force.

“Is something wrong? Did we not put them on correctly?” Zechs asked frowning.

“No … no… they fit perfectly,” Wufei murmured, sitting heavily at the table. Now all he had to do was figure out how to convince everyone that Zechs and Treize were scholars visiting for the fire festival. But that wasn’t Wufei’s only problem. There were other things he had to worry about. Like how long could he stay in close quarters with these very masculine, very attractive men and still keep his wits—and his virtue—about him.

Table of contents for The Broken Seal

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four

The Broken Seal
by Michalyn
Notes: Many thanks to Devil Chick for the quick beta.

————————–

Wufei’s blood boiled. Not demons? Obviously they took him for a fool. If they were not evil, why the hell was his life dedicated to guarding them and preventing exactly the kind of situation they were in right now?

“You expect me to fall for that?” Wufei spat, raising his hands to strike.

“Actually, Zechs is speaking the truth.” Khushrenada stepped forward, making a placating gesture.

As angry as he was, the movement did give Wufei pause since the demon had no reason to pander to Wufei, given his strength. Then again …the deception and cunning of demons was also legend. This reasonable facade was no doubt part of an elaborate scheme to lure him into their cruel clutches. Wufei shook his head.

“Don’t waste your breath with these lies. I’ll say it again. Fight me or leave.”

“My fiery little mage, as inspiring as that passion of yours is, you need to stop and think for a moment. In all the time we’ve been here have you once felt a stirring of black energy?”

“Of course I ha…” Wufei paused, frowning. It was true. Though the cottage all but vibrated with power, not a whiff of it resonated of anything sinister. How did he not notice it before? No… it couldn’t be. He was succumbing to their lies again. Maybe they had found a way to conceal their negative energy. If any demons could do it, these two could. “No. You were responsible for hurting so many of our clan long ago. I know your misdeeds and even a thousand years could not erase them,” Wufei ground out.

Khushrenada looked stricken, and beside him, Merquise turned his face toward the fire, his fists clenching at his sides. When neither spoke, it seemed that Wufei’s words had disarmed them where all his previous attacks had failed. Finally Khushrenada met his eyes.

“It is true. Zechs and I did ravage your people once. That memory is agonizing to us even now, but I swear to you we are no longer the demons who entered Dragon Glen on that day. You have already tested the proof for yourself. Our power is untainted.” The General raised his hand again when Wufei began to interrupt him. “Stop; think back on the legend. You are the temple guardian; I know you cannot have forgotten it. Tell me, how does it end?”

Wufei swallowed. “Just as the demons were about to attack, Luo Huan exorcised—”

“Yes, exactly right,” Khushrenada interrupted. “The Loki were exorcised from our souls and after your clansman defeated us, he entombed us in stone, but it was not because we were evil was it?”

“But…” The power, which had been glowing steadily around Wufei’s hand faded until it was extinguished. For some reason his heart was beating faster than ever before and he was frightened—more frightened than he had been when he discovered the demons in his cottage and imagined his own death. Something was slowly dawning on him and if what he suspected was true… Wufei gasped.

“You see, don’t you? At that time, Zechs and I weren’t banished because we were demons. The Loki had long been freed from our souls. But what do you do with two immortals more powerful than anyone else in the kingdom? You seal them up nice and tight of course. Not because they are evil, but because they are different.” Treize reached over to caress one of Merquise’s clenched fists. “Little mage, do you know what it is like to be completely isolated from society? To not be able to touch the one you love in a thousand years?”

“I … I…” Wufei saw the naked pain in both Khushrenada’s and Merquise’s eyes and something stirred within him in spite of himself. Whatever the truth of the past was, he could understand that pain. He may have never loved, but he did know something about loneliness.

Treize sighed. “And there you have it. All we could do was make the best of it and try to atone for the suffering we’d caused. It wasn’t always easy, but as the years went by, we discovered that even if we could not break the seals we could exert some influence on the world around us. We began first by inducing a heavier rainfall and then ensuring a bountiful harvest. It was our penance, and the gratitude and sheer wonder we sensed from the village were enough to confirm we were doing the right thing.”

“Eventually the seal began to weaken and our little “miracles” increased. Soon they became so common that they were taken for granted. When the folktales grew around us about a blessed land and the Dragon Clan being a chosen people, we were happy. Unable to do much else, we saw watching over Dragon Glen as our duty. We so grew to love this place that the chain of temple guardians who appeared in every generation to “contain” us not only seemed excessive, but the practice itself also struck us as wrong-headed. We already knew the price of banishment. Why should anyone be forced into a life of solitude for our sakes?”

That struck Wufei right to the core. He tried to give voice to the feeling in his breast but was unable to. Treize’s words affected him too deeply. Merquise, however, must have taken Wufei’s silence for antagonism and he made a derisive sound.

“Don’t waste your breath, Treize. He thinks it’s all lies.”

“That’s not true!” Wufei hotly retorted. He tamped his temper down with an act of will. “I’m listening and I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt,” he said carefully. “But surely you cannot expect me to throw away everything I’ve been taught in a single night. If you can influence the elements how do I know that this entire storm wasn’t orchestrated by you as part of some sinister plan?”

Treize’s look was earnest. “What can we say to convince you? Did we want to escape? Of course we did, but we still weren’t strong enough to break the seals on our own. Think of it. If we could, why we would have waited one thousand years to do so? No, we didn’t start that lightning storm but we were weren’t fools enough to let the chance pass us by. It’s as simple as that. I can understand your suspicion after everything you were led to believe but we’re not here to hurt Dragon Glen. Truly.”

Wufei’s doubt must have been written across his features because Treize sighed. Yet, how could he not be doubtful when everything he knew about his vocation and himself had changed in an instant? What was the purpose of his existence? Were the last four winters of his life now meaningless? No, not just the last four winters but his entire youth, for Wufei had been groomed for the temple from the instant he could wield magic. And what of the hundreds of temple guardians before him? Had they lived in isolation for an empty dream? If Khushrenada and Merquise were speaking the truth then the weight of that truth seemed too much to bear. Increasingly, though, Wufei feared it was a burden he would have to shoulder. As much as he didn’t want to trust Khushrenada and Merquise, certain things Treize had said were alarmingly consistent with what Wufei had noticed himself.

Dragon Glen was known first and foremost for its tradition of dragon-rearing but right on the heels of that, people far and wide spoke of the land of emerald fields. It had not always been so, however, and Wufei was one of the few people who could appreciate that fact. Because of his studies, he knew that before Khushrenada and Merquise were sealed, none of the histories ever referred to such a thing and when they did mention Dragon Glen, the area was described as a semi-arid region. At one point, a great scholar had even projected that Dragon Glen would no longer be inhabitable in two centuries and the clan would be forced to return to the ancient nomadic ways.

Eleven centuries later, his prophesy had never come to pass. Instead, Dragon Glen had seen an incremental increase in harvest yields. The river which was once little more than a trickle swelled its banks and new springs burst from the ground. In fact, the first harvest had been so momentous that its date was recorded in more than fifty sources—Day One of the Fifth Dragon Cycle and exactly one hundred years to the date the demons had been sealed.

Gods. Wufei shook his head.

“You’ve felt our power, have acknowledged yourself the uncommon prosperity of Dragon Glen and yet you still doubt us?” Treize demanded.

“He’s just a stubborn brat that’s all.” Merquise’s’ lip curled.

Why the hell was the blond so determined to antagonize him? Wufei bristled, struggling to control his temper. “Well forgive me for not running to you with open arms. You may be telling the truth but your behavior here hasn’t exactly inspired trust. Your average guardian spirit doesn’t go about breaking into people’s homes and peeping at them in the bath!”

“Actually,” Zechs offered, “If they watch over you all the time, it’s safe to assume that they do.”

Wufei’s jaw ticked. The vein in his temple throbbed.

“Ah … Zechs, this may not be the best time for that particular observation,” Treize murmured, patting Zechs on the shoulder and carefully steering him away from Wufei.

“But it’s only logical—”

“I know, Zechs, I know, but look at him. His face is almost as red as your tunic. I would venture that is perhaps a small indication of his displeasure with us.”

“How do you know what we’re seeing isn’t the flush of desire? He is naked after all.”

“What!?” Wufei flushed. Making a choked sound, he darted behind the table, shielding himself.

“See?” Zechs smirked.

“Get out!”

“Huh?”

“I said get out!” Wufei shouted, so flustered, that the hand he flung out to point to the blackened door was trembling. “I don’t care if you’re demons, guardian spirits or the Dragon God himself. I refuse to listen to you perverts anymore!”

“But…” Zechs began, actually looking a bit contrite.

“Out! Out! Out!” Wufei called his power around him in what he hoped was a threatening display. Truth or no truth he wouldn’t stand for this anymore. When neither demon moved though, his temper exploded. “What the hell are you still doing here? I’m counting to ten and if by then you’re not out of here I’ll—”

“Ah,” Treize coughed. “Sorry to interrupt but as much as we’d like to leave there’s one small problem.”

“And what,” Wufei ground out, “might that be?”

“We can’t.”

——————————————————-

“What do you mean you can’t?” Wufei demanded. He was tired of these games. Why did these two persist in tormenting him so?

“I’ll show you,” Treize said and Wufei stared as the General unclasped his cape and let it fall to the floor. He removed his armor and eased his tunic off his shoulders. He secured it about his waist to prevent it from sliding past his hips. When he was shirtless, muscles gleaming in the faint light, he beckoned to Wufei.

Wufei immediately balked. No way he was falling for that lame ploy. “I thought I told you—”

“It’s not what you think. Come; you must see this.”

Wufei inched forward. “What is it?” he demanded testily.

“This.” Treize indicated a spot on his left breast just above his heart (or whatever equivalent beings like Khushrenada and Merquise possessed).

Wufei peered at the point in question, at first, seeing nothing extraordinary about the small tattoo-like mark inscribed there. It was no bigger than a silver coin and in the shifting firelight it was barely visible. Annoyed, Wufei was just about to turn away when he noticed how disturbingly familiar the marking seemed. He squinted, leaning closer. It almost looked like a rune inscription. In fact, now that he thought about it, the tattoo looked a hell of a lot like the markings on the fifth rune he’d lost. But that was impossible. Mages’ rune stones were unique. There was no way the inscriptions could be reproduced, except by the mage himself and even then it was an incredibly laborious process. Wufei was already dreading replacing the one he’d lost for that very reason. If it wasn’t so important he’d avoid it entirely. So how by the gods had Treize even guessed the marking much less made a tattoo of it? The whole thing was even more bizarre since the General should have never seen it. When the lightning storm broke the seals, it had scattered Wufei’s runes as well. A weight of dread settled in the pit of Wufei’s stomach. Unless…

“No, that can’t be.”

“This is yours, is it not?” Treize demanded.

“I don’t know how you achieved this forgery, or what you intend by it, but I’m not amused.”

Merquise rolled his eyes. “Here we go again. What did I tell you, Treize?”

Wufei ignored him. “That cannot be mine. There is no such thing as a living rune.” Even as he said it, however, Wufei was filled with doubt. Normally, he knew that would be true but Khushrenada and Merquise weren’t ‘living’ in the usual sense were they?

“Then what would you call this? You and I both know I could not do this myself. What’s more, though we can sense high magical energy in you, your attacks have been weak. Which means either you are ailing or you have lost a rune stone,” Treize said matter-of-factly.

“But…”

“Since you seem to be in perfect health, I can only assume it’s the latter. And I wouldn’t be surprised in the least if you lost that rune when we were freed. Am I wrong?”

Wufei shook his head glumly.

“Somehow, when the seal broke, it must have caused some reaction between our power and your stone. There was certainly enough magic in the air to make it possible.”

That was not what Wufei wanted to hear. What he wanted was his rune stone back and for these two … guardians to leave him alone and he told them so. “Look, that’s all very interesting, but frankly I don’t give a damn. I want you to leave now. Since you’re not the demons you’re purported to be, there should be no problem right? The two of you seem resourceful enough. Find someone else to bother.”

“If it were that easy do you think we’d still be here?” Merquise snarled. “It’s because of your damn stone we have no choice but to stay here.”

Wufei slammed his palms down on the table. “Look, you pompous bastard, nobody’s keeping you here against your will. Believe me I want nothing more than to see you disappearing over that mountain so why don’t you do us both a favor and get out?”

Merquise made a disgusted sound. “Haven’t you been listening to a thing Treize has been saying or are you just too dense to figure it out? Runes can only be directed by the mage they belong to and your rune has imprinted itself on our bodies. That means your power is now connected to ours. That means we can’t leave until you make us leave by getting rid of this mark. How do you think we were drawn here in the first place? It was your own damn power that called us.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” Wufei spluttered. “How am I supposed to release you when I don’t even know how my mark got there in the first place?”

“It’s your rune. How the hell can you not know?” Merquise growled.

“Gentlemen!” Treize made a placating gesture. “I know this is a frustrating situation but let us not descend to squabbling.” He turned to Wufei. “Mageling—”

“Wufei,” Wufei hissed.

“Wufei, why don’t you get dressed and bring your materials down? The only way we’ll be free of each other is if you can reconstruct that missing stone.”

——————————————————-

Wufei placed his four stones on the table then set the petalyfe, the magical stone from which he would reconstruct the fifth rune at the center. He called his power to him, biting his lip as the stones began vibrating. The process required a bi-directional exchange of power between himself and the stone and sweat broke out on Wufei’s brow under the force of the magic. It required an immense amount of energy and the entire room glowed a luminous phosphorescent blue with every pulse of power streaming from Wufei. Finally, the fifth rune began to take shape, its edges softening and becoming rounded. It shimmered, solidifying by slow degrees while Khushrenada and Merquise looked on with anxious faces. Wufei panted, pain burning his arms and back as energy was drawn from him at an incredible rate. Now came the hardest part.

Wufei chanted the summoning spell, repeating the enchanted words until the sinuous line of the inscription began to coalesce. He held on, willing the sigil to become permanent but the lines kept shifting and dissolving, his own power fighting him every step of the way. Wufei stumbled. The room spun and he shook his head, bracing his legs far apart and gripping the table for balance. By now, the rune should have been complete and it was agony trying to maintain the summoning spell but Wufei fought on, forcing every ounce of power he could muster into stabilizing the rune. One dark line appeared and then another. For a moment, it seemed it would hold.

“Yes … yes!” Merquise urged, leaning forward excitedly.

Almost … almost… If he could keep up the flow for just a little longer… Wufei summoned all of his strength but he’d already spent double the amount of energy normally required for the task and he could hold out no more. “Nngh … ungh … I can’t.…” Wufei barely had time to cry out before the petalyfe exploded and he was flung backwards. He landed hard on the stone floor, the wind knocked out of his lungs. He lay there, stunned. Every bone in his body screamed with pain and his head was pounding from the shock of the fall. “Ugh…” he groaned.

“Wufei! Are you all right?” Treize was shouting. Even Merquise was hurrying towards him with agitated strides. Wufei really didn’t see what all the commotion was about. He had only taken a little tumble. Nothing to get worked up over.

“I … I’m fine,” Wufei protested, sitting up to prove his point. He brushed off his robes, stumbled to his feet, took one step forward … and Khushrenada’s and Merquise’s distressed faces were the last things he saw before the world went dark.

——————————————————-

Wufei awoke to find himself cradled in Treize’s arms, while Merquise held a compress to his forehead. There were bandages on his forearms and he could only assume the blond had also put them there. He groaned, pushing Treize’s hands away to sit up—and was immediately forced back down by Merquise.

“Be still,” Merquise barked. “You’re in no condition to be going anywhere.”

“But…” Wufei was about to protest, but in truth he was light-headed from energy loss and the pain in his arms was an even greater deterrent to movement. He looked around to notice for the first time the herbs from his garden on the table and the pot simmering over the fireplace. A pungent medicinal aroma rose from the pot and Wufei watched as Merquise went to the fireplace and ladled some of the hot mixture into a mug. So the blond had a gift for healing? How surprising.

“Here, drink this; it’ll ease the pain,” Merquise ordered, bringing the potent broth to Wufei’s lips.

Wufei grimaced but did as he was told. When Merquise was satisfied with the amount he’d drunk, the blond set the cup aside and Wufei sagged back against Treize. He raised his arm to examine the bandages and winced at the pain that immediately shot up the limb. “What happened?” he groaned.

“You overdid it,” Merquise said, pressing his lips together. “The pressure was too much for your hands and the skin broke. A few of the cuts are quite deep, but with my salve there should be no scarring.”

“Thanks,” Wufei murmured, abashed at the blond’s care of him after all his earlier hostility. Then: “Did … did it work?” he croaked, almost afraid to ask.

“I’m afraid not.” Treize said, speaking for the first time. He shook his head when a frustrated oath burst from Wufei’s lips. “It is all right. For now, the most important thing is that you heal. Otherwise, we’ll really be in trouble.” He must have been reading Wufei’s thoughts for he quickly added: “For that reason we must insist that you do not attempt any spells for the next few days until your arms are healed.”

“No, I’m fine, really. I just need—”

“That’s enough!” Merquise cut Wufei off with a stern look. “I didn’t spend all this time nursing a brat like you back into shape so you could undo all my hard work. The reconstruction of the rune failed and you are simply going to have to face the fact that we will be here for a few days at best. At worst it’ll be much longer if what we all suspect is true—and that is the stone cannot be reconstructed as long as the markings are imprinted on my and Treize’s bodies. Your current injuries seem to be evidence enough of that.”

Wufei had been thinking the same thing but hearing his fears spoken aloud seemed to make their fate all the more ominous. “Maybe … maybe you’re wrong. Maybe there’s a way for this to work. As soon as I am recovered I will find away to free us from this imposed companionship. In fact, I…” He paused, turning to look curiously at Zechs. “Wait a minute. You’ve been complaining all this time yet I haven’t seen a single mark on you. I see why Khushrenada must stay, but what’s keeping you here? Do you just refuse to leave his side?”

Merquise muttered something under his breath but Treize coaxed him into listening to Wufei. “He won’t believe you until he sees it for himself, Zechs. Show it to him”

Zechs shrugged. He removed his armor and belt and pulled his tunic over his head.

Wufei’s eyes bugged. Merquise was … was…. He made a choked sound as the blond was left standing in nothing but a skimpy loincloth fastened at the side. An arrow of golden hair trailed from his navel to disappear beneath the scant underwear, which sat low on his hips. When Merquise began untying the knot at his hip, Wufei shot to his feet, almost knocking Treize over in the process.

“Stop!”

Merquise shot him a puzzled look.

“You don’t have to show me. Just tell me where it is!”

“All right.” Merquise’s hands stilled on the loincloth. “It’s on my inner thigh.”

“Amazing really,” Treize purred, rising to join his Lieutenant. Wufei stared in disbelief as he knelt before Merquise and slid his hand up the blond’s thighs as though it were the most natural thing in the world. What’s more, Merquise immediately shifted, allowing Treize greater access. Treize leaned closer, casually rubbing a spot where the loincloth met the crease of Merquise’s leg. “Unbelievable.”

Merquise sighed, brushing a hand through Treize’s hair as the General continued to caress him. “If you’re surprised, imagine how I must feel. I always knew the gods had a sense of humor.”

Those two were—! Wufei tottered to the table and slumped in his chair. His cheeks were on fire. This situation was moving from bad to worse. What next? If anybody dropped one more article of clothing he was going to kill them.

Khushrenada and Merquise were murmuring to each other, their host seemingly completely forgotten. Wufei could ignore the men’s husky laughter; he could even ignore the heated looks shared between them, but Treize’s fingers going to the knot at Merquise’s hip was the last straw.

“General Khushrenada, would you kindly step away from your Lieutenant?”

The warriors’ laughter abruptly ceased. Merquise was clearly irritated by the interruption but Wufei didn’t care. This was his cottage and they were intruders. He had a right to set limits on what did and did not go on in here. As for Treize, he frowned but he did as Wufei requested.

“I do not see why…” the General began.

“No.” Wufei did not allow him to continue. “I’m sorry but I won’t hear any objections. If we’re going to be living together, it’s about time I laid down some ground rules.”

——————————————————-

Wufei called Khushrenada and Merquise to the table. They sat, staring at each other across the scarred wood. Nataku was curled about Wufei’s shoulders, the little dragon clearly distressed at his injuries and at finding two powerful strangers in the cottage. Wufei tried to reassure her by petting her scales. “It’s all right, girl,” he murmured, though he wasn’t so sure himself.

Merquise glanced curiously at Nataku. “Is that a pet?”

“Sort of…” Wufei frowned. “Dragons are very intelligent beings so it’s not quite right to call them pets. I couldn’t keep Nataku here if she didn’t want to. She’s more like a companion than anything else.” Wufei rubbed his fingers along Nataku’s head, earning him a deep purring sound from the little dragon.

“Hm. Must get pretty lonely then.” There was nothing mocking in Merquise’s voice, but the clear-eyed gaze he cast upon Wufei seemed to expose some deep vulnerability in him and Wufei flushed.

“No … no … not really,” Wufei stammered eager to let the topic drop but Treize turned to him with a thoughtful look.

“So you really do live here all alone?”

“Yes of course.”

“A shame indeed. No friends … lovers?”

Wufei’s few friends all lived in the village—or had lived there when he left for the temple. He supposed Heero and Duo had both gone on to much more exciting things now. Those two always had a knack for adventure. As for lovers … well… Before he’d become temple guardian he’d fooled around a bit with Trowa, the son of the local dragonmaster. Last Wufei heard, though, Trowa had bonded with a blond empath from the Alhaza desert. Even now the knowledge filled him with a wistful longing. What he and Trowa shared hadn’t been love exactly. It had been more like love’s first tender beginnings—friendship, affection and desire tumbled together all at once. In other circumstances Wufei felt sure things would have been different, but the fates had different plans for them and there was no use holding onto what might have been now.

“I’ve always been a bit of a loner anyway.” Wufei’s shrug was intended to show a certain cultivated indifference but Treize’s eyes softened with something akin to pity.

“Is that so?”

“Anyway, I thought we would discuss living arrangements while you’re here.”

“Of course.”

Wufei flattened his palms against the table. “First of all, you two will need to help me out in the garden if there is to be enough food for the three of us. There’s also Betsy to consider. I don’t want to have to get another goat since you’re staying here temporarily but I don’t know if she can produce enough milk for us all. Which leads me to the next matter. I hate to be crude, but do you have anything in the way of money?”

“Well, let’s see…” Wufei waited as Merquise and Khushrenada fished about their uniforms. Finally, Merquise pushed a battered gold coin across the table.

“I’m afraid this is all I have,” he apologized.

Wufei held the coin up to the light. It was actually a rather large denomination, worth roughly 5 pentgrams in its day—enough to supply them with provisions for a month. The only problem was it hadn’t been in circulation for almost a thousand years! The best he would get for it now was the value of the gold itself, maybe a little more if Jared thought he could sell it to an antiques collector. Wufei pressed a hand to his forehead. “It’s not much but I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a sigh.

Maybe he could pretend Khushrenada and Merquise were travelers seeking work and petition the village to hire them as his assistants. The temple had grown significantly since it was built and in recent years, the council had begun discussing hiring more help for the guardians. The talks always stalled though since they could never find any workers willing to live on the mountain. It might be one way to pay for their expenses.

The other option was abandoning the temple altogether, but how could Wufei explain to the village that the demons had escaped? Not only that, but that they weren’t demons anymore and were actually responsible for Dragon Glen’s wealth? Even if they did believe Wufei, what would he do now that he was free? Where would he go? He had few other marketable skills he could live by. It was also near impossible for a mage of his power to be taken in by a guild without having served an apprenticeship under a guild master. He wouldn’t mind an apprenticeship—he was certainly still young enough to not raise any eyebrows. The only problem was with his power, there was little any master could teach him. At the same time, he couldn’t take on an apprentice of his own without belonging to a guild. Wufei buried his head in his arms. This was a terrible, terrible mess.

“Is something wrong?” Treize asked him.

“No, somehow I’ll figure this all out. For now let’s just try to get along. I only have one bed so you’ll have to spread some furs down here. Unfortunately I will have to buy those from Jared when he comes by tomorrow. For tonight at least, you will have to make do with some blankets. Luckily it hasn’t been too cold, so if you sleep near the fireplace you should be toasty enough. Also … I don’t care what kind of relationship you have but just keep your … activities … where I can’t see them. I’m not doing any extra laundry because of you!” Wufei flushed.

Merquise chuckled. “About that … There’s one more thing we haven’t discussed. It has to do with our ‘dietary requirements’ if you will.”

“What is it?” Wufei didn’t even try to be optimistic. He simply braced himself for the bad news.

“Treize and I absorb a portion of the energy around us. For the most part, this isn’t a problem since there is an abundance of energy in all of nature itself. Even so, we must always be careful not to absorb too much life force from our surroundings. When we were imprisoned, our “appetites” were smaller, because the seals were made to restrict our powers. We could slowly retrieve the energy we needed without having to worry that we would drain too much from the living things around us. Now that we are free, though, we’ll need to take in power at our original levels. Treize and I usually get the majority of our energy through a direct exchange that leaves us sated enough to absorb the rest of our needs at a much slower pace. This way, we cause no harm to our surroundings.”

“Direct exchange?” Wufei echoed. “You mean…?”

There were three main ways magical beings, including mages gained new energy: through food, through absorption from the environment as Merquise had described and … through sex. This last produced the greatest and most direct form of energy. It was quick, requiring no internal conversion before power could be called upon and of the three, it was also the only method that was … well … fun. Needless to say, it was the preferred choice of most mages. As for Wufei, he preferred to think of himself as much more discriminating.

Merquise nodded. “Since we’re already lovers it makes the most practical sense.”

“Yeah, but what does that have to do with me?”

“Nothing if your rune hadn’t interfered with things. With your power now connected to ours, the old methods are no longer enough. What did you think being drawn to your power meant? Runes always draw upon the energy of their masters. With your rune imprinted on us, we crave your power too.”

Wufei swallowed. He jerked to his feet and began edging away from the two warriors. “I don’t know what you’re implying but I won’t be involved in a direct exchange of anything between you and Khushrenada. You can forget it!”

“Oh dear,” Treize murmured as he and Merquise began moving toward Wufei. “Somehow I knew this would happen. Won’t you let us convince you otherwise?”

————————————————–

“Stay where you are!” Wufei warned, skittering backward.

Khushrenada and Merquise shared puzzled looks. “Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?” Khushrenada demanded. “After all, it’s not as if the situation were not mutually beneficial.”

“Mutually beneficial? Only for you and Merquise!”

“The exchange of energy would increase your power as well. With the link between us, we all stand to gain equally from this process. In fact, I would go so far as to venture that you stand to benefit even more than Zechs and I,” Khushrenada finished.

“Me? That’s absurd! You’re the ones imposing yourselves here. There’s absolutely nothing in this for me.”

Khushrenada shook his head. “Pardon me for making this observation but, you appear to harbor a great deal of … frustrated energy. Perfectly understandable of course, given the life you have been forced to lead. Luckily, Zechs and I are well equipped to take care of your metaphysical and physical needs”

“What?” Wufei squawked. Did the bastard just say what he thought he said?

Merquise stepped forward. “If it’s technique you’re worried about then let me reassure you, we are both attentive lovers. I don’t kiss and tell but I have never received a complaint from any of my lovers, even the most skittish of virgins like yourself. Quite the opposite, in fact. Treize can unequivocally say the same. Do not worry. We will be very solicitous about your pleasure.”

Wufei’s throat worked soundlessly at this pronouncement. Next to Merquise, Khushrenada was nodding sagely. Skit …skittish virgin? Wufei’s face flamed.

Merquise and Khushrenada suddenly materialized next to Wufei, one on either side of him. The two warriors were alarmingly close. “Khush…Khushrenada … Merquise…” Wufei stammered, looking from one man to the other. “What the hell do you bastards think you’re doing? I’m warning you….” Wufei gasped as someone released his hair. His hair-tie fluttered to the ground. “Hey! Who—”

“So this is what you’ve been hiding from us,” Merquise rumbled, tilting Wufei’s face upward to gently comb through his hair. “Such a pretty, pretty mage.” His thumb found the nape of Wufei’s neck and rubbed there in slow circles, so that Wufei was possessed by a hot shiver and goose bumps broke over his skin. “Isn’t he pretty, Treize?”

“Magnificent,” Khushrenada purred from behind Wufei.

Behind him? When had he got there? Wufei’s mind was racing and he could barely catch his breath. This situation was getting out of hand. He needed to do something and it would be a hell of a lot easier if his body would listen to him. As it was, Merquise was bending closer and Wufei could do no more to stop him than he could still the pounding of his heart. The older man’s gaze fell to his mouth.

“What a sweet little bud.” Merquise traced the rim of Wufei’s mouth. “Soft, full, sensuous….” He brushed his bottom lip. “I think I’ll have a taste.”

Wufei’s eyes widened. “Merquise…”

Hot and soft, Merquise’s mouth descended to claim Wufei’s. The blond pulled Wufei to him, the strong bar of his arm tight about his waist. Wufei was nudged almost on tiptoe and he had to clutch the older man’s shoulders to keep his balance. Merquise took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue stealing into Wufei’s mouth and playing wetly against his.

Wufei clung to him. His heart was thudding. This was … this was… He gasped as he was swept along in a torrent of sensation. The fine strands of Merquise’s hair tickled Wufei’s cheek and dazedly he realized that the curtain of black and gold he could see from corner of his eye was Merquise’s sunlit hair and his own dark locks mingled together. Something about that knowledge made desire burst through Wufei and he closed his eyes. He was adrift … lost … branded by the incredible heat of Merquise’s body pressed against his from chest to belly to thigh.

Merquise found the pulse at Wufei’s throat and the concerted way he kissed and suckled that throbbing spot made Wufei feel he was sipping of his life force itself. This might not be so bad after all he thought dazedly, his head lolling backwards. Wait … what was he saying?! Wufei shook his head. He tried to pull away, but Merquise would have none of it. Instead, he pulled Wufei even closer, slanting his mouth over his. He was all soft lips, hot breath and teasing, nipping teeth, which surprised Wufei when they tugged on his bottom lip.

“Oh!” Wufei didn’t realize he was moaning until he heard Khushrenada chuckle.

“Good isn’t he? See? We’ll take good care of you, lovely.”

Being taken care of was sounding better and better with each moment and Wufei struggled to remember just why he needed to oppose this. It had all seemed clear a while ago, so why did he feel so fuzzy now? Maybe it had something to do with the way Merquise was circling his nipple through his tunic … or Khushrenada’s breath tickling the back of his neck … or the delicious tingling of magic underneath it all as their bodies rubbed together. Wufei blinked drunkenly. That … that … must be it… He should be resisting this, so why did it feel so good?

Heat rushed down Wufei’s thighs. His knees were trembling and if not for Merquise’s arms about him he surely would have fallen. His erection rubbed against the wool of his leggings and Wufei was never more thankful that he did not wear the shorter, more fashionable tunics. Even so, it was becoming harder and harder to conceal the proof of his desire.

“Merquise,” Wufei moaned. He wasn’t quite sure what he needed, or even what he was asking for, but he would burst if he did not somehow give voice to the yearning within him.

“Hmm,” Khushrenada rumbled in Wufei’s ear even as Merquise’s arms tightened about him. “Please call Zechs and me by our given names. We are your lovers now are we not?” Khushrenada lifted the hem of Wufei’s tunic. He insinuated his hand between his legs, cupping him through his leggings.

“Wait … wait! Oh god, what are you doing?” Wufei tried to jerk away but that only pressed him further against Merquise.

The blond brushed the sweaty strands away from Wufei’s forehead. “Don’t fight it. Treize touching you like this is pleasurable isn’t it? Let us make you feel good,” he was saying, then Khushrenada’s hand was moving and all Wufei’s thoughts fragmented.

The older man fondled Wufei’s balls. He even teased between his cheeks, making him gasp and squirm. Devilish fingers pressed just behind Wufei’s scrotum, rubbing and caressing the sensitive skin there. Before Wufei could think what they were searching for, pleasure flared bright and hot. He cried out, slumping against Merquise.

“Khush…Khushrenada…”

“Ah, how delicious. I think we’ve found your sweet spot, little one. Such a passionate response and I’m only massaging you from the outside.” The satisfaction in Khushrenada’s voice was palpable. “It appears though, that you’re still having a bit of difficulty with our names.” Khushrenada’s other hand slipped around Wufei and found the erection he had been praying would go unnoticed.

Wufei’s entire body shuddered. “Treize!”

“Much better.”

Zechs laughed. “Shall we make ourselves a bit more comfortable, then?” he asked, leading Wufei over to one of the chairs around the table. Wufei stumbled behind him, having long given up trying to make sense of things. It seemed wisest to figure it all out later when the blood wasn’t rushing away from his head.

“Excellent idea, Zechs.” Treize stalked them. There was a hungry gleam in his eye that could only mean very bad or very good things for Wufei depending on one’s perspective. Wufei could not decide which as Treize embraced him. The older man took his hand and gently kissed his fingers. He turned Wufei’s hand over and brought it to his lips, a hot tongue tracing the lines in his hand from the center of his palm to the base of his wrist. He bent and suckled the soft crease of Wufei’s elbow. Treize stared at Wufei from beneath his lashes.

“You’ll let me hold you, won’t you?”

Wufei’s breath lodged in his throat. He nodded dumbly.

“Good … good.” The older man cupped the back of his head, and with surprising tenderness held Wufei to him. While Treize rubbed his back in soothing circles, Wufei felt Zechs’ hands on his waist … his hips … the backs of his thighs … and too late, he realized what was happening.

“W…Wait!”

Zechs tugged off Wufei’s leggings, caressing the arch of each foot before releasing him. “Mmm?”

Naked now but for his tunic, Wufei groaned. Gods why him? He had always followed the rules; always respected his elders. What had he done to deserve this?

Treize was groaning too, but for a different reason as his hands settled on the curve of Wufei’s ass. He cupped and squeezed him. “Oh Wufei, how can no one have ever held you like this? I want to kiss and caress you all over.” A finger ghosted over Wufei’s cleft. “Even here. No, especially here,” Treize whispered. He nuzzled Wufei’s throat, then wandered up to mouth the soft round of his earlobe. “I want that very much. I want to see you bent over Zechs’ lap with that saucy little behind of yours in the air. And then I’d spread you and kiss you right here.” Wufei jumped as Treize’s finger pressed deeper, circling the entrance to his body.

“That’s…” Wufei was shocked … tingling with excitement … mortified. He stumbled backwards and Zechs caught him. The blond sank into one of the chairs and Wufei was pulled with him, his bare bottom brushing against Zechs’ lap. While Treize watched, Zechs hooked Wufei’s legs over his own, then very slowly spread his legs. Wufei gave a cry as he felt his tunic riding up. He tugged the hem down; embarrassed by the way his erection tented the cloth.

Treize was staring at him with a soft smile. He knelt before Wufei, rubbing the delicate skin on the inside of his knee. “Why are you hiding? Don’t be shy. Your cock is just as pretty as the rest of you. Won’t you let me see?”

“Shut up!” Wufei’s face was hot. “Don’t say those kinds of things! It’s … it’s … inappropriate.”

Treize’s smile broadened. “Inappropriate? How so? On the contrary, it can only be appropriate when it’s the truth. Why should I pretend otherwise?”

Behind Wufei, Zechs rumbled his agreement. He trailed his fingers up and down Wufei’s arms. Carefully, carefully, he began tugging Wufei’s hands away from their grip on the tunic.

“No!” Wufei fought, but Zechs was stronger. He easily pried the cloth away from Wufei’s fingers and raised the tunic up to his waist. His strong arm curled about Wufei’s middle held Wufei in place while bunching the cloth up so that he was bared to Treize.

“Oh gods.” Wufei squeezed his eyes shut as his nakedness was revealed. He prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him whole. Better yet, for it to open up and consume Treize and Zechs since they were responsible for his current humiliation.

“Gods indeed. I was right. You are beautiful. I could look at you like this all day,” Treize husked. He kissed the tops of Wufei’s thighs, leaning—to the younger man’s frenzied mind—far too close for comfort.

“Don’t torture him, Treize. Look at how the poor thing is trembling,” Zechs chided. “I think he deserves a reward after all we’ve put him through.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Treize wedged his body between their thighs and began kissing Wufei. Little butterfly kisses right to the sensitive tip of his cock.

Wufei’s eyes flew open. He was moaning even as he tried to twist away. With Treize at his front and Zechs behind him, however, his efforts were quickly proven useless. He could only cry out as Treize’s mouth enveloped him. The older man bobbed his head, caressing Wufei with the back of his throat. When his tongue pressed the vein on the underside of Wufei’s shaft, color burst behind his eyelids. Treize’s mouth was hot, wet, tight and the things his tongue was doing…. Wufei’s head lolled against Zechs’ shoulder. His fingers dug into the blond’s arms as he tried to absorb the pleasure coursing through him. He hadn’t known it would be like this—that he could feel so good.

Throughout it all, Treize’s eyes never left his. That smoky, hooded gaze bore into Wufei as the older man suckled him … worked the slit at the head of his cock … deliberately teased his foreskin. Wufei prickled with embarrassment. Yet, no matter how hard he tried, he could not turn away. He felt branded, utterly possessed by Treize’s gaze and the hot bands of his hands around his thighs. Wufei was spread and lifted, kissed and caressed and it took him some time to realize that the hoarse, wild cries he heard were coming from his lips. Of their own volition his hips rose and fell. The movement was sinuous, wanton, but Wufei was helpless to stop it. He knew only the urgency of his body and a need for release that bordered on pain.

“That’s it … that’s it. Don’t hold anything back.” Zechs urged, nipping Wufei’s ear.

Hold back? He couldn’t if he tried. Wufei gave one last desperate cry and spurted into Treize’s mouth. The older man made a hungry approving sound, eagerly swallowing Wufei’s come. Treize continued to suckle him even after he was soft and Wufei whimpered.

“Stop … stop … please.” His fingers tangled in Treize’s hair.

Treize let Wufei slip out of his mouth. He kissed his hip lovingly then rocked back on his heels. “Had enough, sweetheart? I promise that’s only a fraction of the pleasure Zechs and I can give you.”

“A fraction?” Wufei stammered, unable to process what such a thing could mean after the intensity of what he’d just experienced. For there to be more than this…. “Gods.”

“Treize, I think you’ve scandalized him,” Zechs laughed. “Don’t worry, love,” he told Wufei. “We won’t do anything you can’t handle.”

Treize beamed. “Well! Now that we’ve gotten to know each other, I think this will be a very pleasant arrangement.”

Wufei couldn’t find the voice to answer. Dazed, sated and all but glowing with new energy, he couldn’t shake the feeling that in the battle of wills between himself, Zechs and Treize, he’d just suffered a complete defeat.

Table of contents for The Broken Seal

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four

The Broken Seal
by Michalyn
Rating: MA

Author’s Note: I started writing this last month, hoping to finish it in time for May 13th (13×6x5 day) but the damned thing got so long that I just couldn’t finish it in time. It’s supposed to be a oneshot but because this part is already pretty long I decided to break the entire thing into two parts. These are my three favorite GW guys so this is a total piece of indulgence. I hope you enjoy my silliness.

———————-

From the temple mount, Blackmoor forest extended like a lush carpet far beyond the eye could reach. Wufei was so high up that even the tallest trees seemed like children’s toys. A frigid wind rippled through the trees, making them sway and turning their leaves silver-green. The gust caught Wufei’s crimson cloak with it, revealing the pale magist’s robes beneath the heavy material. On his shoulder, his pet dragon, Nataku shifted restlessly, making a hissing noise. Wufei ran a soothing hand over her iridescent scales.

“You feel it too, don’t you, little one?” he murmured as thunder clattered overhead and the air became sharp with the scent of imminent rain. For the past six nights Wufei had been unable to sleep, kept awake by an unnamable sense of unease. At best, it was a prickling of the senses, at worst, a heavy foreboding—a premonition of danger that had Wufei jostling the runes in his pocket for comfort. He had become temple guardian in his fifteenth winter and in the four winters since, Wufei had never felt anything like this. Should he send a warning to the village? No … that would be pointless. What would he say? That they should lock up their houses because he had a bad feeling? They would think he had gone soft in the head from all the years spent up on the mountain.

Wufei sighed, stopping again between the two statues into which the ancient seals were carved. These stone sentinels were the reason for his peculiar existence; the reason that in every generation since his people could remember, the most gifted of their youth was sent to the mountain to watch over the statues and make sure the demons who were sealed inside never escaped again. Wufei had long ago accepted his duty, and with Nataku for company along with the occasional traveler or villager come to the mountain to bring him provisions, he didn’t mind his solitary days much. In fact, he was even grateful for them at times. Only occasionally did he feel a twinge as he wondered what life might have been like had he been born a baker’s son or a black-smith’s apprentice, free to live and love as he chose. During those times, Wufei could not help yearning for a life more ordinary. Being the protector of his people came at a considerable price.

Wufei gazed into the sinister faces of the statues. Their lips were curled back in feral snarls and their stone fingers were sharpened claws. They were almost identical save for the armor each wore. A cape rested on the arm of the statue to the right in many-layered folds while in his other hand, the demon brandished a terrifying sword. Unlike his companion, the statue on the left, however, wore no cape. His tunic was short and he leaned forward on one bent leg, a sandaled foot propped on a large shield.

They were General Khushrenada and his Lieutenant. Legend had it that the demons were once powerful magist-warriors in the service of a great king. They were invincible, vanquishing the king’s enemies and ensuring a reign of peace. Those gentle days were not to last forever, though. One winter, the two warriors were drawn into a trap by Septm, a dark lord who sought the throne. General Khushrenada and Lieutenant Merquise were cursed. Possessed, they turned against the very people they once protected, unleashing a bloody rampage on the countryside, the kind of which had never been seen before. For months they were unstoppable, laying waste every village they passed through. They arrived in Dragon Glen and Wufei’s people also fell under their sword.

All seemed lost until finally after a desperate battle, a powerful young mage confronted them. Already injured from the fighting, he knew he could not completely defeat them. Their strength was much too great. Knowing, that their destructive power came from Loki, evil spirits, which had bound themselves to the General’s and Lieutenant’s souls, the mage cast a potent purification spell over the warriors, hoping to lure the evil spirits out and weaken the warriors’ powers for a moment. In that shimmering instant when the Loki hovered above the warriors’ souls, the young man scorched them with mage fire. The Loki were exorcised, but it was too late for the warriors. The evil spirits had been entwined with them for so long, that their souls were irrevocably affected. The mage knew that General Khushrenada and Lieutenant Merquise were no longer human. With the last of his energy, he sealed the demons in stone and had them carried far away from the village. From that moment on, he lived on the mountain, devoting his life to ensuring they would never break free again.

Thus, Wufei found himself, one in a line of hundreds of other guardians and he had no reason to doubt that another hundred guardians would follow him as well. A soft rain began to fall and lightning rent the clouds. Nataku fluttered her wings, and released a keening cry to the wind.

“Guess we better head back,” Wufei said. He pulled on his hood and started to make his way back to his cottage. The rain beat down with increasing force and Wufei hurried, eager to get inside where it was warm and dry. With the usual temple spring cleaning for the fire festival just around the corner, he could not afford to catch cold.

Thunder clattered overhead and the rain pelted Wufei without mercy. He had just reached the temple gate when a powerful flash of lightning burned through the heavens. It was so bright, the sky turned white, blinding Wufei. In that instant, an incredible explosion rocked the ground, sending him tumbling down the temple stairs. Wufei gasped as his shoulder slammed against a column and the rune stones flew from his pocket. Nataku shrieked and flapped around him in alarm, her head gently butting Wufei as she tried to get him to stand up. Damn it! Wufei groaned. His shoulder throbbed with hot pain. What the hell was that?

Steadying himself, Wufei tried to locate the source of the disturbance, but even as he limped to his feet, he could sense something was terribly wrong. The air vibrated with energy and rubble was scattered in every direction. Wufei’s heart pounded as he bent to examine the crumbled stone.

“Ouch!” he hissed, dropping the fragment like a hot potato—and it was indeed that hot, its edges scorched and blackened. Wufei didn’t want to believe it, but with every minute his dread grew worse. A lightning storm could do a lot of damage but lightning alone could not render magistically tempered stone into these lumps of coal. Worse, the heavy, almost stifling weight of the air was unmistakable: Magic. An incredible power had been released and Wufei knew of only thing for a thousand miles that could generate this kind of energy. And if what he was thinking was true…

Wufei whirled toward the statues and what he saw made his blood run cold. Lightning had blasted both of the seals and now power poured from the breached stone like water from a spring. The seal on the Lieutenant was partially intact but the General’s seal was completely blown away. Wufei cursed and dropped to his knees, scrambling amongst the rubble for his rune stones. The General was the more powerful of the two. It would have been much better if the Lieutenant’s seal had been broken and the General’s stayed intact. If he escaped… No, Wufei did not want to think about that. He had to do something, and quickly.

Wufei burrowed beneath the dust and plaster and found one rune stone after another until he was missing just one. He searched and searched until his robes were heavy with mud and his fingers were bruised and tender but no matter how hard he looked, the final rune would not be found. Wufei rocked back on his heels, cursing in frustration. With the full set of stones he could concentrate his power to its greatest intensity. Without all five, he would only be operating at about 70. Normally, that would be more than enough to defeat any enemy, but this was no ordinary foe. Knowing he couldn’t afford to waste another moment, Wufei had no choice but to abandon his search and try to repair the seal with whatever power he had before the demon was fully released.

Wufei braced himself and began summoning his strength to restore the seal. It was like pushing against a wall. The air shimmered and distorted as Wufei tried to staunch the deluge of power. He stumbled, perspiration dotting his brow and his shoulder burning as the demon power, eager to be completely released, resisted him. For a moment Wufei wondered if he could really control this himself. Should he call for help? But no, the village was five-days ride by horseback. By then it wouldn’t matter what help he had rallied; the demon would have escaped and with no Loki to exorcise, who knew if the General could be sealed again. Besides, if Wufei could not restore the seals, no one could. It was the very reason he was temple guardian. Panting, Wufei chanted the words of an arcane binding spell as he focused all of his power on reconstructing the seal. He hoped to use the ancient spell to compensate for his weakened power and after a long struggle it seemed that he finally succeeded. The broken fragments of the statues rose and reassembled in their proper places, the myriad fissures in the stone glowing before fusing together again. The tension in the air diminished and winked out.

Wufei slumped to the ground, relieved and utterly drained from the effort it had taken to put things to rights again. As Nataku alighted on his shoulder, he petted her slender tail.

“I don’t know about you, girl, but I’m more than ready to go home and see this day end.”

Nataku’s contented cry seemed to say she agreed.

————————————–

Wufei’s cottage was nestled in a lush arbor not far from the mountain top. When he got inside, he lit the fire and set a pot over the flames to heat his bathwater. Before coming in, he had carried in water from the well and now a large wooden tub rested before the fireplace. He normally had dinner before his bath, but the muck encrusted onto the hems of his robes was too unpleasant to ignore. Wufei loosened his hair and stripping before the fire, he rolled his robes and cloak into a neat bundle to be washed on the morrow.

Wufei took the pot off the fire and set the bathwater to a comfortable temperature. He slipped into the tub, making a deep sound of satisfaction as the warm water enveloped him. Such a simple pleasure, but it felt wonderful after the day he’d spent. Wufei settled deeper into the tub, wincing a bit as the water stung his bruised shoulder and the little cuts across his knuckles from where he had scraped them searching for his rune stones. He had opened the window to let Nataku out to hunt her dinner and while Wufei surveyed the room, a gentle breeze blew in from outside, fragrant with the scent of rain and the night-blooming flowers.

The walls glowed in the firelight and Wufei’s eyes traveled from the rough kitchen table with its sturdy chairs to the fresh rushes on the stone floor. The cottage consisted of three rooms. The front room and largest room served as kitchen and living room while overhead, connected by a short ladder, the alcove housed his bedroom and his study. All in all, it was a small space, but a cozy one. Everything he needed was right here. He had a herb garden for both recipes and spells, and behind the cottage was a small corral where he kept a temperamental she-goat named Betsy for milk and cheese. What more could he want? Wufei mused. Companions, a little voice in his head was quick to point out, but Wufei silenced it. He was perfectly happy as he was.

The scent of lavender and chamomile rose from the tub as Wufei washed himself. Humming a faint tune, he soaped his calves then lifted one leg to rub the rag between his toes. When he was done, Wufei rose from the tub and wrung the excess water from his hair. He was just reaching for his wiping cloth when the air next to him crackled with electricity. There was an incredible rushing sound, a gust of wind blasted into the room and before Wufei knew what was happening, something landed at his feet with enough force to cause the stone floor to reverberate.

Not something but someone… Wufei gasped as a large figure materialized in front of the tub.

The man standing before him was easily three heads taller than Wufei and twice as heavy. His broad shoulders were weighted by armor and a navy blue cloak which swept the floor. Wufei was startled to discover his golden breastplate inscribed with Old Verse, a form of writing that had not been used in Dragon Glen for hundreds of years. In fact, only mages and scholars knew it through their studies and even then, only very few were proficient. The words were a common protection charm, more symbolic than magical in their wish for their wearer’s safe-keeping. If the power Wufei sensed emanating from the mysterious warrior was any indication though, then the intruder had no need of such a charm anyway.

It also meant that Wufei would be no match for him.

The knowledge was like a fist to the gut but denying it was pointless. Better to know the limits of his power than to have a deluded sense of his abilities. As it stood, he would most likely be hurt, but the latter would surely get him killed before he could warn his people. Wufei’s thoughts raced as he struggled to devise some means of defending himself. The world seemed to contract to the pounding of his heart and the leaden weight of his body, unable to move from shock and fear. And all the while Wufei could not shake the feeling that he had seen the warrior’s armor somewhere before.

The intruder’s tunic, of the same deep blue as his cloak, ended just above his knee to bare strong tanned legs and sandaled feet. The golden thongs of his sandals glittered and the reddish hairs on his powerful calves caught the firelight as he dropped to one knee. The sudden movement startled Wufei; he braced himself for the worst, knowing that running would be useless. The fluttering of the intruder’s tunic alone as he lowered himself to the floor had caused the air to shimmer. No, there would be no getting far enough away from this opponent. He would be upon Wufei before he even reached the door. He might as well save all his energy for the inevitable bloody confrontation, Wufei thought, steeling himself. He could only watch, every muscle taut with dread as the warrior leaned closer and closer until his lips were almost brushing Wufei’s pubic hair. Wufei clenched his fists, wondering what this strange first move meant.

Lazy blue eyes perused Wufei’s form and the intruder’s nostrils flared delicately as if taking in his scent. “Well, that is certainly a pleasant sight to wake up to after a thousand years,” he rumbled.

At first Wufei didn’t think he’d heard correctly. Then blood rushed to his cheeks. Of all the depraved … perverted—! If Wufei had doubted before, now he was sure he had some kind of evil presence before him. Scrambling out of the tub, he pulled the wiping cloth about his hips. Wufei’s hands were trembling as he grabbed his runes from the table and braced himself in a fighting stance.

“Name yourself, Bastard!”

The man ran a lazy hand through his hair. “General Khushrenada,” he drawled, advancing on Wufei. “And you must be the pretty little mageling who tried to seal me away.”

———————————-

The words were like an icy hand around Wufei’s heart. His his limbs were shaking and blood was pounding in his ears as he tried to process what the warrior was saying. There was no way. It wasn’t … couldn’t be true.

“But … but … that’s impossible,” Wufei protested. “I just… sealed…”

But had he really? Wufei’s voice died in his throat as he remembered how eagerly the flow of energy had pulsed from the broken seal and worse, how long it had taken him to find his rune stones before he could repair it. Even then he had only been able to use a portion of his power. When both were considered, it was more than possible—nay inevitable—that a being as powerful as the General would have escaped. It would explain the magic shifting around them even now in carefully controlled currents; it would also explain why the General’s uniform looked so familiar. Wufei realized with a gasp that it was indeed identical to the one on the statue. Gods, it did not matter that he would be killed but he would die before warning his people about the bloody fate that awaited them and that was unforgivable. He had failed as their guardian.

“I see you are beginning to understand,” Khushrenada said as he studied Wufei’s expression. “Actually the seal has been weakening for years, but you could say it was literally a stroke of luck that the storm hit when it did. Otherwise, I would be stuck in that damn stone coffin for ten more winters at least. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the human world and I must say I’m famished.” The demon’s laugh was husky as he continued to advance upon Wufei.

Wufei took the demon’s mention of hunger to mean that now that the General had awakened, he was once again craving blood . “I may not be able to defeat you, but as guardian of this temple neither can I allow you to prey on the people of Dragon Glen. I will stake my life on it! I will do anything you ask if you promise not to harm them,” Wufei ground out, even as it galled him to be pleading with this demon. Still, it was all that he had left. He did not expect any deal he struck with Khushrenada to be honored but he hoped it could buy him some time. For what, Wufei couldn’t say; he only knew he had to try for his people’s sake. “What is it that you want?” he asked. Perhaps we may reach some sort of agreement…”

“You wish to strike a bargain?” Khushrenada raised an eyebrow. He licked his lips, all but grinning now.

“Yes.” Wufei squared his shoulders. He stood his ground, forcing himself to show as little of his panic as possible.

“And what would you have to barter with?”

Wufei took a deep breath. What he was about to offer was dangerous; so dangerous that the risk of it was outweighed only by the potential cost in human life if he did not try to persuade the demon. “I can offer you a Pyrgion talisman.”

Though demons were fearsome, because they drew so much negative power from their surroundings, their bodies tended to be somewhat unstable as they lacked little balancing positive energy. It meant that once a demon became very powerful, if it expended beyond a certain threshold of energy it risked destroying its internal equilibrium and annihilating both itself and everything around it. Pyrgion talismans were used to stabilize that excess negative energy and allow the demon to focus its powers without risking destruction in much the same way that Wufei used his own rune stones to direct his powers. That was where the danger lay. Giving the talisman to the General would make him even stronger but because the Pyrgion stone absorbed some of the demon power in order to be effective, there was a small chance of binding the demon by destroying the talisman itself. Wufei held his breath, hoping that the General would take the bait.

Khushrenada made a dismissive gesture. “Come now, surely you don’t expect me to be charmed by such baubles? No, you have something else that I am far more interested in.”

“Wh…What?” Wufei gasped as Khushrenada’s hand closed about his wrist. Even suppressed, the General’s power was like a jolt of electricity over his skin. For a commoner, the sensation would have been painful, but for a mage whose very lifeblood was infused with magic it was like being licked by a thousand pleasurable flames. Wufei stumbled backward but the General’s arm quickly encircled his waist, preventing him from falling. He moaned as more power flowed into him from that simple point of contact and his knees sagged. Wufei’s head was spinning and he looked up to see Khushrenada gazing at him with molten eyes. The General touched a hand to Wufei’s waist and the drying cloth he had secured about his hips disintegrated as if it had never been.

“Yes, you do have something much more valuable to offer,” Khushrenada purred, lifting Wufei into his arms.

Every instinct of Wufei’s screamed for escape as he was hoisted into the air but with the net of the General’s power cast about him, he was having difficulty breathing, much less moving. He was impossibly trapped and Wufei once again cursed the loss of his fifth rune. Determined, however, to put up whatever fight he could, he tried casting a repulsion spell but all that came out of his mouth was a helpless groan. The sound drew Khushrenada’s attention and the demon bent forward, his face drawing closer and closer to Wufei’s. Convinced that these moments were his last, Wufei made a final desperate attempt at escape. He closed his eyes and tried chanting the repulsion spell once more:

“Dragons of the west wind and spirits of the—”

“Damn it, Treize, I thought I told you not to start without me.”

Wufei jerked as the husky, almost sulky voice sounded right next to his ear. If he had panicked before, now his heart was filled with terror. Th…that voice … that power meant there were two of them. And if there were two of them it could only be because Merquise had also escaped his seal and both General and Lieutenant were now standing in his living room. Wufei stopped chanting. Why waste his breath? It was over.

Khushrenada sighed, turning them towards the origin of the complaint. “And was I supposed to wait while you dawdled, Zechs? You certainly took your time getting here.”

“Not all of us are lucky enough to have lightning bolts come down from the heavens and free us in an instant. I had to work to get out of that damned statue, you know,” the other demon grumbled, folding his arms across his muscular chest. His golden hair tumbled over his shoulders and as he spoke, he flicked the swath behind him, smoothing it with his fingers. His pale eyes fixed on Wufei and though the blond had not touched him, Wufei felt seared. Where the General was grace and power, the newcomer was raw intensity barely leashed. There was something wild about him; from the sensuous bow of his mouth to the lazy thrust of his hip as he studied Wufei. He was also somewhat taller than Khushrenada and broader of shoulder. He came to lean over Wufei, his scarlet tunic rustling against his powerful thighs.

“What a lovely catch we’ve made this time, haven’t we, Treize?”

“Indeed, and it appears he wishes to strike a bargain with us.”

“Is that so?” The blond made a rumbling sound deep in his throat. “By the way, don’t you think you should tone down your power a bit? You’re going to make him drunk like that.”

“Hmm, you might be right.” Treize peered at Wufei, perhaps seeing just how dazed he was feeling. Even Wufei was not sure how much of that was from the demon’s magic and how much from panic. Nevertheless, he was startled to feel the power around him drop by slow degrees until it was little more than his own energy level. Wufei’s eyes darted from one demon to the other, his body instinctively tensing for flight. Perhaps escape was possible after all.

“What is this bargain, you want to make?” Merquise asked him. “And does it involve that sweet body of yours?”

Wufei spluttered, his face growing hot as the blond perused his form. Even to his inexperienced eyes and ears, Merquise’s look and his words were openly sexual. He heard the rumbles of agreement shared between the intruders and it was only then Wufei realized that contrary to the blood and destruction he had imagined, the kind of bargain Merquise was suggesting was also what Khushrenada had intended all along. Wufei was aghast. He needed no further confirmation of their depravity. Now more than ever he could not allow himself or his people to fall into their clutches, Wufei vowed. Visions of rapine tormented him as he imagined the demons descending on the village.

Ignoring Merquise’s lascivious gaze, Wufei twisted out of Khushrenada’s arms. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins as he hit the ground to hurl mage fire at them. Bluish light exploded from his palms and the cottage shook, shuddering so violently on its foundations that Wufei feared the windows would shatter. The heat alone from the blast was enough to scorch the door to a cinder. Smoke billowed, thick black plumes obscuring Wufei’s vision so that he could no longer see his own hand braced for attack, much less the two demons.

Wufei waited. For a moment, he could not detect any demon magic and when it did return it was severely weakened. Could it be? Had he somehow managed to inflict serious damage to Khushrenada and Merquise? It was not completely unfathomable. Even missing his fifth rune, he’d put all the energy he could muster into the shot, and by normal standards his power was formidable. Hope swelled in Wufei’s breast. It seemed he’d underestimated himself after all. Wufei sprang forward. He must finish them off while they were vulnerable.

“God damn it! What was that for?” Merquise coughed and wiped the soot off his shoulders.

Or maybe not…

The blond waved his hand and the shield-like barrier he’d erected in front of himself and Treize disappeared. It was obviously made to repel magic and Wufei’s heart sank when it dawned on him that this was the reason the demon’s powers had initially seemed muted. Even as Khushrenada emerged from the fog of smoke, Wufei could feel the power in the room rapidly returning to its previous levels.

“Treize, are you all right?” Merquise asked, still coughing.

“Nothing to worry about at all, Zechs, though this soot will be the devil to get out of my cloak.”

“Ghastly stuff. I think you’ve got some in your hair too, Treize.”

“Really? Where?”

“In the back. Come, let me help you with that…”

What had been fear within Wufei boiled to disbelief and then outrage as he watched the two demons pat and groom each other, setting their elaborate uniforms to rights. He lunged forward, an animal cry torn from his throat. He drew on his power and energy pulsed around his hands.

“Bastards! I will not stand for this game any more! I don’t care if you’re the most powerful demons in the universe. Fight me or get the hell out of my village!”

“Demons?” Merquise frowned. He seemed so puzzled, so truly offended that Wufei stopped dead in his tracks. “Treize didn’t you explain it to him?”

“Ah … I’m afraid I got somewhat distracted,” the General offered, looking somewhat sheepish.

“Explain what to me? Stop fucking around!” Wufei shouted.

“Oh,” Zechs waved his hand. “We’re not demons.”

Table of contents for Beautiful Dawn

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight

Beautiful Dawn
by Michalyn
Chapter Eight

Milliardo cursed as his umbrella snapped inside out. Hunching against the wind, he tossed the umbrella, now mangled into a travesty of cloth and broken spines into a nearby trash can. Water gushed by in the drains and swirled in little gullies about his feet. He was soaked to the skin but Milliardo was barely aware of the weight of his waterlogged coat and jeans as he hurried up the steps to the administration building. It was a little after six and all the offices were closed except the one he was looking for, its light gleaming at the end of the hall. Milliardo checked his watch. Still plenty of time before the library closed, but he had better move quickly. Jed wouldn’t wait forever and the last thing either of them needed was to be discovered. Milliardo trotted toward the records office, leaving puddles of water in his wake.

“Jed?” Milliardo peered around the door.

“Yeah, man, I’m here.” The redhead beckoned to him and Milliardo scrambled inside. “You’re lucky I owe you a favor—and I like you,” his face split into a grin, “this is some serious shit. Sharing student records is a big no, no.”

“I know, Jed, I know. I swear, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if it wasn’t important.” Milliardo shrugged out of his coat. ” I know if anyone found out, this could cost you your job so I really appreciate your doing this for me.”

He and Jed met during their undergraduate days and though they had taken different paths, Jed abandoning the writing track for law, they never lost touch. They were not the best of friends, but they could depend on each other. That, and they had been lovers once. It hadn’t lasted, but Jed had been fantastic in bed. Enthusiastic, Milliardo recalled with a grin and quite vocal too. A few years ago he had lent the redhead a sizeable portion of money to help him get over a rough patch and though Milliardo would never dream of accepting the money, Jed had insisted that Milliardo at least allow him to pay him back in any other way that he could. Milliardo agreed, never thinking he would need to call in the favor one day.

“No problem, Mil. What’s the name of the kid you’re looking for?”

“Yuy. Heero Yuy.” Milliardo shoved his hands into his pockets as he moved closer to the computer screen.

“Hmm, let’s see here. Yuy … Yuy…” Jed raised an eyebrow, suddenly hesitant. “And you’re sure this is all to the good?”

Milliardo made an exasperated sound. “Would I lie to you? Of course it is! Besides, it’s not like I’m asking you for his social security number. I just want to know who his next of kin is.”

“All right, man, all right,” Jed spread his hands in a placating gesture, “I just gotta check, you know?”

“I’m sorry, I know. It’s just this is important to me and I guess I’m a little uptight at the moment.”

Jed laughed. “It’s okay, Mil. I saw the kid’s picture. I think I get it now.”

Milliardo flushed. “That is…”

“Hey,” Jed reached over the printer to retrieve the paper. He handed it to Milliardo, “I’m not making any judgements. If you say this is kosher then I believe you. I just hope the kid is worth it.”

Milliardo’s fingers closed around the printed sheet.

“He is, Jed. He is.”
—————————-

The machine whirred as Milliardo loaded another microfilm onto the reel and began scrolling. He had spent the afternoon hunting down everything he could find on one Jeremiah Yuy. Once he had Heero’s father’s name in hand, he had been unable to uncover a surprising wealth of information in the library archives. He had begun with a simple web search and that had turned up Jeremiah’s name linked with a company called Gem Electric, specializing in micro-chip technolgy, particularly for industrial use. Jeremiah had founded the company sometime in the eighties, but Milliardo could not find much about his past other than he had come from humble a background. Jeremiah was not from the area and had moved to their town shortly after starting up Gem Electric.

Milliardo leaned back in his chair and whistled. It seemed their university’s computer science and information systems departments had received a sizeable sum from Jeremiah when stock in Gem Electric was at its most profitable. No wonder Heero had turned to programming. He had had little choice in the matter. Milliardo scrolled through more articles about Gem Electric’s meteoric rise and interviews with it’s CEO, Jeremiah, who by all accounts was a cold and unsettling presence. His answers to reporters were always to the point and faintly derisive. Milliardo grimaced. There was no doubt he was an expert in his field, but he shuddered to think of the man as a parent. In all of his pictures, Jeremiah Yuy wore the same charcoal suit. He was perfectly pressed, to the point of rigidity, and stood stiffly with his legs apart. The only unconventional part of him was his hair, which he kept uncharacteristically long. It lent him an almost ferocious appearance and even years later, his pictures held an unsettling intensity.

The rain rattled the windows, coming down with greater furor and Milliardo shivered. His clothes hung oppressively on him now that he was no longer moving, and the damp wool of his sweater itched his neck. He kept scrolling through the reels, but nothing he came across was what he wanted. While Jeremiah’s business profile was certainly pertinent, the articles told him nothing of Heero, who was Milliardo’s greatest concern. Milliardo sighed and rubbed his eyes, which had begun to burn from staring at the tiny print for so long. The vibrating of his cell phone told him he had one message but Milliardo did not bother to check it. He had far more important things to worry about at the moment. He was beginning to become discouraged, but Miiliardo promised himself that he would search through two more reels before giving up. If he found nothing then so be it. In truth, he had begun to question the soundness of his plan and was somewhat relieved that his search was proving fruitless. Milliardo secured the penultimate microfilm onto the spindle. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that his actions were all to the good, he was troubled. He could not get Heero’s tormented features out of his head.

Milliardo yawned as the pages flashed black and white before him, the clicking and humming of the machine loud in the stillness. Outside the window, a streak of lightning flashed—so bright and so jagged it seemed to rend the sky in a million tiny fragments. The weather was poor enough that he was one among only a few overzealous students left. Milliardo remembered the first day he stumbled onto Heero and smiled. He really should be getting home and out of these wet clothes. Why had he come here, again? Milliardo became increasingly convinced of his mistake. He should be home where it was warm, comfortable and dry. Milliardo had run into Trowa on the way to the administration building. Weren’t he and Quatre hosting that movie night tomorrow? If Milliardo were lucky he would get Heero to come with him. That was what he should be doing—earning Heero’s trust through the simple things—not sitting here in the library courting deception. No matter how frustrated Milliardo was, or how deeply he longed for Heero to open his heat to him, Milliardo realized now that he must wait. It was the only way he could ensure happiness for either of them. What if he went through with this and Heero found out? Any hope for love between them would be shattered. No, he would prove to Heero that all trust was not misplaced. Milliardo would go home, shower and then call Heero, invite him to the movie, ask him about his day—whisper sweet things to him. He would not bother with the last reel of film.

Milliardo put the machine on autoscroll and returned the unused microfilm to its box as his cell phone vibrated again. Must be Treize, he thought with a twinge of guilt, remembering the first call he left unanswered. Taking one eye off the screen, Milliardo reached across the desk and froze as something caught the edges of his vision. Was it? It couldn’t be… He jammed the scroll button to a stop, his hands trembling. The light on his cell phone continued to flash and the whir of the microfilm machine was suddenly deafening.

There, on the screen, as if by some eerie tranferrence, Heero had escaped Milliardo’s thoughts and was staring back at him.
—————————-

“So, what are you going to wear?” Hilde grinned at him.

Heero did not mean to mention the movie night, but now the woman would not stop pestering him. He had only been looking for the laundry detergent so he could wash some clothes for the next day. All through dinner, Heero had taken note of Treize’s and Wufei’s neatly pressed shirts and comfortable slacks, and he quickly determined he had nothing suitable to wear to the movie night. It was all right to go to classes as he was, but Heero could not define the feeling that came upon him at the thought of Milliardo seeing him in the same faded clothes again.

He knew it was out of the question to get anything stylish, but he had some small savings and after leaving Wufei and Treize, Heero stopped by the local thrift store. All items were fifty percent off on the last Thursday of the month, and Heero was determined to take advantage of the savings. He would have stopped there in any case to get clothes and other household items for himself and J, but Trowa’s invitation made his visit all the more timely. Heero found some well-cared for slacks, a new pair of jeans (which he badly needed) and some shirts. He also bought sweaters for himself and was proudest of the fine serge jacket he spotted at the last minute. Heero even found some sturdy leather boots that would serve him well through fall and winter. Even after his purchases for J, the items had totalled to just under thirty-five dollars. Heero was sure he could not have been more efficient.

When he got home, he decided to do the laundry right away so he could determine which of his new purchases he would wear the next day. That was when Hilde had walked in, complimenting him on the new outfits. Of course she wanted to know why Heero had bought them. Heero tried to explain to her that he always made some purchases when items were discounted and had only touched upon Trowa’s invitation in passing, but Hilde latched on to the little detail with the tenacity of a virus attacking a motherboard, and Heero had not heard the last of it since. She wanted to know if Heero was excited about going, if he had known Trowa very long and if the good-looking blond would be joining them. To this last question, Heero politely replied that though Wufei had described Quatre to him, he could make no other judgements about the man’s appearance.

Hilde scowled. “You know I’m not talking about this Quatre guy. I mean your friend—the tall, blond god of a man who came to meet you here. ”

Heero measured the detergent into a cup. “I think you are referring to Milliardo.”

“Yes, Milliardo! And what a princely name to suit a very princely specimen.” Hilde beamed at Heero.

“Is it not time for you to leave yet?”

“It’s raining.”

That meant there would be no getting rid of her. Heero turned to the washer without a word. Dipping into the laundry basket, he sorted the clothes by color, beginning with the whites because most of the sheets and J’s clothes were of that color.

“So are you going alone?” Hilde hemmed him in, completely oblivious to Heero’s attempts at ignoring her and Heero grimaced.

“I do not understand why you need such details.”

“Come on, don’t be shy.”

Shy? Heero started. He was merely being logical. He frowned at Hilde across the table. Frankly, Heero found the woman incomprehensible. Because Heero often came in so late in the evenings, over the weeks, they had begun eating dinner together. At first, Heero tried to dissuade Hilde from joining him. He knew the inconsistency of his meals and was uncomfortable with her witnessing the incongruity of his fare. Heero knew the importance of nutrition and well-balanced meals, but he had not yet devised a strategy that would allow him to purchase nutritionally sound meals while staying within budget. Most nights, he ate hot dogs with pork and beans or he munched on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Other times, he dined on hastily microwaved dinners. No matter how he tried to chase Hilde away, though, the woman was adamant. Whenever he came home, he would find her bustling about the kitchen, the table already set with Heero’s mismatched dinnerware—though Hilde did not seem to notice. She drank and ate heartily from the battered cups and plates as though they were the finest cookware. The woman had so insinuated herself into his schedule that when Heero was invited to have dinner with Treize and Wufei, he had felt obligated to call the house to let Hilde know he would not be joining her. No wonder he was having trouble getting rid of her!

What puzzled Heero most, however, was the fact that Hilde claimed to enjoy his company. Heero knew himself to be neither talkative nor socially adept. Indeed it was rare for him to speak more than a few words during his and Hilde’s “conversations”. After careful consideration of the matter, Heero had determined that more than fifty percent of his contribution to their dinnertime discussions consisted of directives such as “pass the salt” or “hand me the butter”. A variation on the theme was “be quiet” but this was the request least likely to be granted so Heero had abandoned it for others that were more productive.

Heero frowned now, contemplating Hilde again as he put the last of the clothes in the washer. Completely illogical behavior—truly incomprehensible…

“So?”

“You are asking a question.”

“Are you going out with him or aren’t you?”

“Milliardo … has also been invited.”

“Aha!” Hilde crowed. “So that’s why you bought these.”

“I do not see what you mean.” Heero murmured, watching as suds dispersed and coalesced on the washer’s glass door. He had heard there was a new product one could add to the wash so that sorting was unnecessary. Dye Catcher, or something similar, it was called [1]. He would have to investigate it further.

“Come on, Heero,” Hilde prodded. “You’re not fooling me with this nonchalant act. Don’t you want to look nice for him?”

For some reason, Heero’s face grew hot at those words. “I am only interested in being presentable.”

“Well, the rain looks like it’s stopping, so I have to leave in a bit, but if you want, I can help you pick something out for your date. You’ve got some good stuff here, and with the right combination we can make it even more fabulous.” Hilde pointed to the new clothes resting on top of the basket to be included in the next wash. “Don’t look so worried. Trust me; I have an eye for these things.”

Heero hesitated. Hilde’s close-cropped haircut was indeed very stylish and once or twice he had seen her change to her street clothes directly from work, and she always looked attractive. Heero could not see the harm in seeking her advice. Not that it had anything to do with Milliardo by any means. He just wanted to be appropriate. J always told him there was a time and a place for everything and only a fool bumbled in unaware of his environment.

“Well…” Heero began.

“Come on.” Hilde winked, already laying the clothes across the table. “We’ll knock his socks off.”
—————————-

Heero had been adopted at six years old and Milliardo had never seen anyone so uncertain, so terribly stunned as the young boy in the photograph. It was his eyes—so dark and so wise in one so young—that brought a shiver to the back of one’s neck. It was not a hardness they possessed but a blankness—an utter lack of hope or expectation. Milliardo frowned. Perhaps that was the quality that troubled him so much in Heero that he had been unable to put a name to. It had changed somewhat of course, but there, in the boy, was the echo of the man to come. In the photograph, Heero and Jeremiah were standing in front of the child adoption agency ( to sensationalize the event Milliardo supposed ) and Jeremiah had pulled Heero awkwardly to his side in a parody of fatherly affection that would have been laughable if it was not so frightening.

Milliardo had only the articles to judge by, but his impression was so unsettling and so strong Milliardo could hardly deny it. Here was the last man on earth Milliardo would put a child in the arms of, yet Heero had been given to Jeremiah to the grins and nods of the public. Everywhere, there was excited commentary on the idea of Jeremiah as a father, but no one had remembered the child himself. The picture captured outside the agency was the last photograph Heero had appeared in. What had happened in that interim? Heero’s eyes would not tell him.

How was it possible for so many people to be so blind? Milliardo scanned the papers agitatedly. How? Of course he knew how. Money talked. Though at six Heero could hardly have been the oldest candidate for adoption, he was already less then ideal—even more so, Milliardo imagined, with him being such a sober child. No doubt they’d assumed it was better to be adopted by an eccentric mogul than for Heero to find no home at all. Milliardo leaned back, more upset than he had expected. Maybe it was the pain he had sensed, buried so deeply in Heero that even the younger man was unable to acknowledge it. He had been hoping for a miracle, but everything Milliardo had seen today only reinforced his fears.

Milliardo skimmed the later issues to the collapse of Gem Electric in the last three years. There was mention of it being absorbed by one company and then another but Milliardo had stopped reading closely by then. Whatever ideas he had come with, Milliardo knew enough now to be sure that Heero needed him as much as he needed his troubled new friend.

—————————-

“Heero, can I talk to you for a second?”

Heero looked up from his soup to find Milliardo at his elbow. He was having lunch with Trowa and Wufei again and they were discussing the finer points of race cars. Trowa was surprisingly knowledgeable on the subject and Heero was just trying to press the other man for details about Quatre’s latest purchase, when Milliardo interrupted them. Heero excused himself to join the older man, his heart thumping in his chest. “I will return shortly,” he told his friends.

“No problem, Heero.” Wufei smiled and Trowa nodded. “We’ll wait for you.”

Heero gave a stiff nod as he followed Milliardo out. The older man’s expression was so grim as he led Heero across the room that Heero began to wonder if he should be concerned. They stopped just outside the little-used west entrance, shielded from the thoroughfare of traffic that usually marched past the dining hall. Milliardo was staring off at the parking lot with a faraway expression that was at odds with his agitated body language and the compulsive tick in his jaw. Heero could not think of a reason for the nervous movement, or why Milliardo had called him away from lunch. He remained silent, waiting for Milliardo to speak.

“Heero—” Milliardo whirled to face him. “Heero, we’re friends, right? What I mean to say is, we’re … we’re together aren’t we?”

“Together?” Heero mulled the word over. He was not sure what he felt for Milliardo, though Heero could not shake the feeling they were being inexorably pulled towards something unnamable. What stood on the other side, however, Heero could not say. His instincts told him that whatever it was, he could not escape it. He had learned long ago that some battles could not be won and Heero knew this would be one of them. Held in the grip of the invisible current propelling them forward, Heero knew he must go along with it or be broken on the rocks — and dashed he eventually would be, regardless of whether he struggled or not. The pain would come soon enough, of that Heero was certain. It was the one constant in his life. Why invite it prematurely?

Together. The word echoed in Heero’s thoughts. He opened his mouth to speak — to try to explain his feelings — but Milliardo was already rushing over him.

“Or I would like us to be,” the older man was continuing hastily. “Will you consider it?” Milliardo rested his forehead against Heero’s, took Heero’s hands in his own. “Will you come with me to the movie night this evening?” he asked and Heero frowned, his gaze sliding away from Milliardo’s. His legs felt suddenly and dangerously unstable, and Heero wondered whether he had pushed himself too hard at his daily exercises.

“I have accepted Quatre’s invitation.” Heero said and Milliardo’s expression told him that it was the incorrect response.

“No.” Milliardo raised Heero’s chin with one finger. “I mean as my date,” he explained. “I would love to have you by my side.”

Heero tried to process this distinction. Was this the same “date” Hilde had been speaking of? She too had spoken of him and Milliardo as being “together”. Of course, Heero watched movies, and observing his classmates he had an idea of how these things worked, but no one had ever taken an interest in him before, and for all Hilde’s gushing about the night ahead, she had taken his date with Milliardo as a given. How one behaved on a date — or even how one knew he was one a date — this important data she had witheld. Heero always thought that numerous dates were required before two people officially declared themselves a couple, but this was not true in Heero’s and Milliardo’s case. Or was it? He and Milliardo had done many things together in the weeks since they’d met. Were those dates too? Heero wondered. Surely they must have been if he and Milliardo were now “together”. Heero was not averse to the idea, but he was not sure he understood all the details correctly. “What is the difference?” he asked Milliardo slowly.

“The difference,” Milliardo rumbled, “Is that I want to have you to myself all evening.” His thumbs caressed the pulse throbbing in Heero’s neck and Heero swallowed convulsively. “To hold you—” Milliardo kissed the point in question, tongue stealing out to hotly trace warm skin. “To kiss you,” he finished, tracing the sensitive rim of Heero’s lips before releasing him.

So that was what he expected. Heero’s eyes were shut, his breathing harsh as he fought to control the emotions tumbling through him. They reopened to find Milliardo’s face hovering before his. Heero imagined a night spent in the older man’s company, the awkwardness of appearing as a couple, Milliardo’s constant, unnerving presence at his side — the kisses and caresses that turned Heero’s knees to butter… It should have cautioned him, but more and more Heero was beginning to see his relationship with Milliardo as a learning experience — a test of his will as J could never have imagined it. He would be singed, but Heero never minded the scars. Even if it was for only a moment, he wanted to step into the light just once.

Heero nodded. “Then, I will accompany you,” he said.

—————————-

“Okay, I’m putting the DVD in!” Quatre announced, waving the slim case in the air as he moved toward the player. The kitchen-dining area was adjacent to the den and the rest of the group was milling around the table, grabbing drinks and slices of pizza. Heero was the first to return with his plate and Quatre settled next to him as the previews began rolling by. The blond was both more and less than Heero had imagined. Less, because Quatre was petite, his features sweet and boyish. More, because Quatre’s eyes seemed to see things even Heero did not want to reveal to himself.

“Oh, you got the hawaiian,” Quatre smiled as he glanced at Heero’s plate. “You’re a man after my own heart, Heero. That’s my favorite too,” he said and Heero grunted, knowing a moment of panic as he searched for a suitable response. He knew he should say something equally pleasant and innocuous, but he could think of nothing to greet Quatre’s expectant smile.

“I’ve got you, Quatre,” Trowa called, saving Heero from having to answer, as he picked his way across to Quatre, two plates held high. He offered one plate to Quatre, who accepted it gratefully.

“Thanks, Tro.”

“No problem, Love.” Trowa settled on Quatre’s other side, feet crossed comfortably before him. With his lover so close by, Heero expected all Quatre’s attention to be focused on Trowa, but the blond continued to talk to Heero as he munched on his pizza.

“It’s really a pleasure to meet you, Heero,” he was saying. “Tro and Wufei have both had such wonderful things to say about you — and Milliardo of course.” Quatre added, beaming. “I’ve really been looking forward to having you over.”

“Thank you.” Heero cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the praise. It was difficult to find it deserving when he was not sure what he had done to earn it. He knew that he and Wufei had become friends and that he was rapidly growing used to Trowa’s easy presence, but the how of it, Heero still could not pin down.

Treize and Wufei wandered in, followed closely by Milliardo, who was cradling a slice of pizza in one hand and nursing a beer with the other. Heero had seen the alcohol but deliberately avoided it, mindful that he must be in full rein of his faculties this evening, when he was so out of his depth.

“So what are we watching?” Milliardo asked, collapsing onto the chair next to Heero’s . When he leaned forward to grab the DVD case, their knees brushed and it was as if electricity crackled between them. Sensation zinged from that warm point up Heero’s thigh, leaving his skin charged and hypersensitive even through the rough cloth of his jeans. Heero shifted away, struggling to catch his breath, but Milliardo appeared completely unaffected as he studied the small text printed on the DVD jacket.

“Mystic Blade?” Milliardo murmured. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that one.”

“I have, ” Wufei said from the loveseat, where he was resting against Treize. “It came out just last year, I think. I’ve heard it’s quite good,” he offered, his eyes glued to the screen. They all turned to the television as the movie started, Wufei pointing out one or two familiar actors whose work he had seen before, while Milliardo questioned him about their plots and whether there were any special effects worth seeing.

Quatre was susprisingly rowdy, rising from his seat more than once to cheer the hero on, while Trowa watched him in amusement. At some point, though, Treize and Wufei abandoned the movie to whisper to each other. Treize wrapped his arm around Wufei and was murmuring something in the younger man’s ear. Whatever it was, Wufei seemed to agree with it, for the conversation ended with the two men kissing tenderly. Their kisses were quite chaste, but Heero could not help studying them. Treize and Wufei were a couple. Together, in the fullest sense. Surely Heero was to learn from them if he and Milliardo were to be an item?

Embraced as Wufei was by Treize, the movement was mostly shielded by Treize’s body, but Heero was so intent upon the couple that he saw Treize’s hand slip beneath Wufei’s shirt. It moved upward to Wufei’s chest and once there, proceeded to do something that made Wufei shiver like a chill had suddenly swept the room. Treize kissed Wufei’s forehead and as quickly as he stole the caress, he withdrew, the two men returning to their previous postions as if the moment had never been.

Heero quickly looked away, not wanting to be caught staring, but his thoughts were awhirl with questions. An inexplicable heat had found its way under his collar as he watched his two friends, and Heero excused himself to the bathroom to splash water on his face and neck. In the mirror, the edges of Heero’s hair were dark with water and his skin was flushed. There was a fire in his blood and Heero was hepless to say whether its source had come from without or within.
—————————-

Heero was stunning tonight. Milliardo could not take his eyes off him. The movie was almost finished and he could not say the slightest thing about it. All the while he pretended to be engrossed, Milliardo had been watching Heero over his drink. He wished they were sitting close together and he could pull Heero in his arms the way Treize was now holding Wufei. It was too soon of course for such open displays of affection, but Milliardo yearned for the day when Heero would be comfortable enough with him to allow it.

As the movie ended, Trowa put on some music. Joining hands, he and Quatre swayed to the rhythm. When a slower beat came on, they dimmed the lights and pushed the dining table and chairs far to the side, creating a makeshift ballroom. Treize and Wufei hesitated, but after a moment, they too rose and embraced. Milliardo turned expectantly to Heero, his heart pounding in his chest.

“What about you, Heero? Do you dance?”

Heero’s dark brows drew together as he regarded Milliardo. “No.”

“And why not?” Milliardo asked with a tender look. “Don’t you find it enjoyable?”

Heero’s frown deepened. “I don’t know how to,” he admitted, “but I still fail to see its appeal. The proximity of the dancers seems oppressive and more apt to hinder movement than promote it. It is not something I would like,” Heero finished matter-of-factly, his tone daring Milliardo to convince him otherwise.

“Perhaps you simply haven’t found the right partner.” Milliardo drew Heero’s attention to the dance floor. “Look,” he said, indicating first Quatre and Trowa and then Treize and Wufei, “don’t they seem like they’re enjoying themselves?” Heero nodded reluctantly and Milliardo smiled at the younger man’s wariness.

“The closeness is what makes it special.” Milliardo took Heero’s hand in his. He stroked the sensitive webbing between Heero’s thumb and forefinger then gently turned Heero’s palm over to trace the faint slash of his heart line. “I think you would make an excellent dance partner, Heero.”

Heero began to shake his head, but Milliardo soothed him. “Would you let me hold you in my arms — just for a little while? Please trust me; it’s nothing to be suspicious of.”

Heero’s expressions were so inscrutable, his moods as unpredictable as the wind. Milliardo could not begin to guess what the younger man was thinking. He waited, praying that this time they would be in his favor.

“What do you say, Heero? Will you dance with me?”

Milliardo led Heero towards the dance floor. His arms slid around Heero, smoothly guiding him, pressing their bodies close. Heero knew his movements were awkward, but he was new to this and he could not seem to find the rhythm. Milliardo’s hands stroked down his back, caressing the tense muscles along his spine then moving downwards to settle on Heero’s hips. He bent close to whisper in Heero’s ear.

“Close your eyes, Love.”

Heero hesitated but obeyed. The tension in his frame slowly unwound and he leaned into Milliardo, allowing Milliardo’s guiding hands on his hips. It was not long before they were moving together and then Heero was scarcely aware of the music. Milliardo surrounded him —  his heat, his scent, the steady throb of his heart beneath Heero’s ear. Milliardo’s thigh slid between Heero’s, bringing heat against heat, and the languid rubbing of the older man’s hips against Heero’s sent warmth rushing through his veins. Heero was dizzy from the throb of arousal and the hazy pleasure radiating from their joined bodies, even as Milliardo’s hands seemed everywhere at once, caressing Heero’s face, his back, his hips… Heero didn’t realize that his eyes were still closed or that he had completely melted into Milliardo’s embrace. It just seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean up and press a kiss against Milliardo’s parted lips.

There was a pause, a gasp fanning Heero’s lips, and then Milliardo was shuddering as his mouth slanted over Heero’s, returning the sweet pressure. His fingers tangled in Heero’s hair, massaging his scalp and trailing down to the nape of Heero’s neck, making him shiver. Their tongues mated and a tortured groan rose from Milliardo, even as he pulled their bodies closer. Milliardo’s mouth was soft, his body warm and surprisingly yielding. Though Heero tried to maintain his composure, he found himself pressing closer, drwan irresistably to that heat and strength.

Milliardo’s hands roamed Heero’s body, stroking through the barrier of clothing and Heero knew a want he could not name. His breath came fast, his fingers clenching and and unclenching in Milliardo’s shirt. It suddenly occurred to him that this was insufficient, that he wanted to lie with Milliardo as he had done that day on the grass and feel Milliardo’s skin, hotter than the warmth of the sun, next to his. Heero shifted in Milliardo’s arms thrumming with a frustrated and confused desire. He knew what he wanted, but not how to achieve it. They were not lying in the grass, they were not alone and Heero could not think how to alter the situation so that he could touch Milliardo as he wanted. Heero slid his hands down to Milliardo’s hips, intending to copy the sensual hold Milliardo had on him, but once there, Heero could not stop. As of their own accord they reached round the older man and squeezed his firm buttocks. For a horrified second, Heero froze, realizing what he had done. He began to offer a gruff apology, but the words died on Heero’s lips. He stared, fascinated as Milliardo threw his head back and groaned

Heero remembered the hot, shivery feeling that came over him whenever Milliardo touched him, as though a net of fire were cast in his veins. Heero stared at Milliardo’s slack features and wondered if it was possible for the older man to be ensnared by Heero’s touch. He moved closer. Heero cupped Milliardo again and Milliardo moaned … shuddered.

Heero also groaned. He knew he had discovered something important — something sweet and heady that was almost more pleasurable to Heero than the fever that seized him when Milliardo caressed him. Heero tucked the shining fragment away in his memory for later, when he was at leisure to analyze it. For now, the music still throbbed sensouously and Heero could only think that for all he had deemed this dancing such a clumsy, awkward ritual, he did not want the music to end.

—————————-

“Milliardo! Finally, I catch you alone.” Treize hurried over to Milliardo’s side. “My goodness, you’re a hard man to get a hold of these days. Mil, I have some wonderful news to share. Wufei and I—”

“I’m really sorry, Treize, can we talk about it later?” Milliardo interrupted, his expression contrite as he began moving to rejoin Heero on the balcony. After the dancing he and Heero had gone into the gardens for a walk, parting only for a moment while Milliardo went to get them drinks. Heero was more easy with Milliardo tonight than he had ever been and Milliardo was desperate to preserve the languid mood that had blossomed between them.

Treize touched him on the arm. “I know you’re a bit preoccupied at the moment but I think you’ll want to hear this,” he said with a smile.

Milliardo glanced impatiently over his best friend’s shoulder to where Heero was waiting. Of all the times for Treize to want to chat! It was quite inconvenient. Milliardo hoped Heero was not getting impatient waiting. He couldn’t afford to lose that connection they’d forged toinght! Milliardo shrugged off Treize’s touch with a grin. “Look, Khush, I hate to do it but I really have to pop off; Heero’s waiting for me. I swear to god we’ll catch up first thing, tomorrow. I’ll drop by early in the morning and we can catch up on everything we’ve missed.”

Treize nodded stiffly. “All right then, MIlliardo, I won’t keep you here with my trivia. We’ll catch up tomorrow I suppose. Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

Milliardo saw the tense line of Treize’s shoulders as he turned to join Wufei and he swore. Damn it! He had hurt Treize’s feelings. Milliardo opened his mouth to call out to his best friend but just then he saw Heero peer around the door as if looking for him. Milliardo hesitated, looking from Treize to Heero — torn between his potential lover and the different kind of love he held for his best friend. What should he do? Milliardo’s gaze darted between the two men again. Careful not to spill the drinks, he hurried toward the balcony. He and Treize would catch up tomorrow, he promised himself. Tomorrow he and Treize would sit and talk like old times and Milliardo would repair the damage done tonight. This was Treize, his best friend after all. Surely whatever it was, they would work past it.

Milliardo found Heero staring broodily over the balustrade. He smiled as he offered the younger man a drink. “Were you waiting long?”

Heero turned to him, his eyes luminous in the moonlight. “No.”

—————————-

Heero pushed aside the stack of bills on the kitchen table so that Milliardo could sit down. As unglamorous as the kitchen was, Heero was not prepared to bring the older man to the living room with its old-fashioned TV, threadbare rug and faded, lumpy sofa. He knew Milliardo had seen it the first morning he came to meet Heero and Hilde had shown him in, but Heero was not about to reinforce the memory — not after he had seen Milliardo’s home and the life of comfort he led. Heero still was not sure why he had brought the older man here, and he knew Hilde would pester him tomorrow for answers. As he propelled her out the door, Heero had seen a particular gleam in her eye that did not bode well for Heero, but how could he respond to Hilde’s badgering when even he could not explain the feeling in his chest? Heero only knew that after the dancing and the quiet conversation shared with Milliardo, there was a deep questing within him. He wanted to get to the root of it and Milliardo seemed to be the only means. Everyday, he lost more of his focus, was pullled further and further away from his mission — both mentally in his constant thoughts about the older man, and physically in the time he took away from his studies, the time he took away from his discipline to be with Milliardo. Heero missed the order of his life before Milliardo, when he knew his duties and never had to worry about all these confusing emotions now battering him from every side. He had gone astray and whatever hold Milliardo had over him, Heero was convinced the only way to remove it was to get to its source.

Shaking himself from his musings, Heero found Milliardo studying him. The quality of the other man’s gaze was enough to make Heero’s breath catch and his stomach flutter oddly. Heero frowned. “I’ll put on some tea.”

“Thanks.”

Heero rummaged through the cupboard for the tea bags and put the water on. All the while he could feel Milliardo’s gaze on him like a caress. It was quite disconcerting and Heero nearly burned himself as he poured the hot water into the mugs. He stared at the scald in dismay. He was becoming too careless…

“Are you all right?” Milliardo asked, and before Heero could stop him, Milliardo was already rising out his chair to stand next to Heero, his expression tinged with concern. Carefully, unwrapping Heero’s fingers from around the kettle, he lifted Heero’s hand to examine the reddened skin. “Hmm, it doesn’t look too bad. You should be a bit more careful, though,” Milliardo murmured huskily. “That could have been quite serious.”

Heero’s breath rushed out. “It…it’s nothing,” he stammered, hating how shaky his voice sounded.

“Humph.” Milliardo blew gently on the irritated flesh. “Better?”

Heero’s heart thumped at the sight of Milliardo’s lips so close to his hand. No matter how much he tried to steel himself, his thoughts scattered. His skin felt hot in a way that had nothing to do with the tiny burn and his breath was coming fast. He had to take control of the situation quickly. “Milliardo, what about the tea?”

“Ah, yes, let me help you with that.” When they were seated at the table, Milliardo smiled. “I had a really good time tonight, Heero.”

Heero swallowed a gulp of tea too quickly, and was grateful for the way the the discomfort reminded him of his resolve. “Thank you.”

“No, it was really my pleasure. You’re a wonderful person — and a wonderful dancer, Heero. I hope you’ll do me the honor again.”

Heero remembered the way it felt to be cradled in Milliardo’s arms and his lips twisted ruefully. “It was an interesting experience. I did not think such a thing could be enjoyable.”

“Ah, you don’t know what it means to hear you say that, Heero,” Milliardo murmured. The older man hesitated. “Heero … Heero … would it be possible to have one final dance?”

“But there is no music.” Heero frowned at the tablecloth as Milliardo stood at his side, his palm extended. Milliardo was so close, the heat of his body like a siren call to Heero, already foundering on the rocks of desire. He intended to remain seated, but his body had ideas of its own. As if in a dream, Heero saw himself put down his mug and put his hand in Milliardo’s, allowing the older man to pull him up until he was folded into the warmth of those strong arms.

“It’s okay, we don’t need any music,” Milliardo whispered, holding Heero close. “Just close your eyes and let your body find the rhythm inside you.”

“There is no—”

“Hush … hush … trust me, Heero.” Milliardo’s hands tightened about Heero’s waist. Their feet tangled at first, but soon they righted themselves, swaying together to the invisible beat Milliardo had conjured between them. Heero tried to hold the other man’s stare, but Milliardo’s eyes were too bright, his gaze hinting at something Heero was not yet ready to acknowledge, so instead, he rested his head against Milliardo’s shoulder, letting his eyelids flutter shut as they shuffled about the room. Heero did not know how long they embraced like that, with only the howling of the wind outside and the groaning of the house as it shifted on its foundations as their backdrop. They danced and danced and danced, moving by some strange synchronicity until they twirled out of the kitchen and found themselves at the foot of the stairs.

Heero clutched Milliardo’s shoulders. The yearning within him was a palpable thing, and he could feel the ridge of Milliardo’s desire pressed hard against his belly. When he looked up, the fierceness of Milliardo’s expression took his breath away. Heero thought of the party … the way the music seemed to thrum in time to the pulse in his veins … the way when Heero had caressed him, Milliardo seemed to mold to Heero’s touch. And finally, Heero remembered the way Milliardo’s mouth had descended on his with such heat, such pressure… It was a gamble, but hadn’t he wanted to get to the source of all his pain? What if the answer lay right here?

Heero stared into Milliardo’s too bright — too dangerous eyes. Without a word, he took his hand and led him up the stairs.

Table of contents for Beautiful Dawn

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight

Beautiful Dawn
by Michalyn
Chapter Seven

“Here, have some tea.” Milliardo offered Heero a mug and waited as the younger man downed the hot mixture. “Do you think you might talk about it, now?”

Heero, who seemed to have come back to himself and taken the full measure of his surroundings frowned but did not speak.

Milliardo settled himself on the couch so that Heero was forced to make room on the cushion next to him. He could see the rigidity of Heero’s spine and the bruising grip he had on the mug; it was a wonder he did not burn himself.

“Heero.”

Reaching over and unclenching Heero’s fingers from around the hot ceramic, Milliardo set the mug on the coffee table. He cupped Heero’s palm, rubbing the soft webbing between thumb and forefinger before pulling the younger man close. Heero lay like a weight of lead against his chest, heavy and awkward. There was none of the natural molding of one body to the warmth of another, and Milliardo wondered how much of it was due to discomfort and how much to the simple fact of Heero’s inexperience. Heero kept his limbs close to his body as if somehow afraid that a single movement might shatter them. At the same time, he seemed not to know where to place his hands or how to rest his neck; his head was tilted, the weight of it pressed sharply against Milliardo’s collarbones.

Milliardo caressed Heero’s back in soothing circles. When the stiffness of Heero’s body thawed a little, he repositioned them so that they fitted more naturally together. He could sense Heero’s surprise at the difference the change had wrought and was touched.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk? I’m not saying I have any answers, but I’ve found that it often helps to not have one’s troubles bottled up within. I can sense something is not quite right here, Heero, and I think it might be taking its toll. How can I help you? I would like to think we’re at least friends,” Milliardo met Heero’s solemn gaze; his smile was hopeful, “aren’t we?”

Heero’s frown intensified as he stared up at Milliardo. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Milliardo murmured, brushing back Heero’s damp hair; his thumb traced the soft bloom of the younger man’s mouth, “that I’m concerned about you and I want to help you. Won’t you give me the chance?”

Heero’s brows were lowered ominously and his teeth pressed against his bottom lip until blood welled beneath the surface. Milliardo smoothed the furrow out with a shake of his head.

“No more abuse, remember? Why do you treat yourself so roughly? Countering every caress with a blow does not somehow make you invincible. What makes you despise gentleness?” Milliardo studied Heero. “Perhaps you simply have not had enough of it?”

Heero seemed truly puzzled by Milliardo’s mutterings and it was the evidence of that confusion, which, finally convinced Milliardo to abandon his tack as useless. Open hostility would have at least pointed to willful denial on Heero’s part and consequently, some knowledge of the joys he kept from himself. That Heero was baffled by his talk of gentleness only emphasized the extent of his neglect. More troubling to Milliardo, he found himself confronted once again with Heero’s nebulous past and the conditions of a life so oppressive that they would deny Heero something as simple as human touch. Milliardo sighed.

“Heero, would you share a little about yourself with me? If there’s anything you’re curious about, as well, please don’t be shy.” Heero turned to look at him.

“What do you want from me?”

Milliardo shook his head. “Must I have an ulterior motive? Isn’t it enough to want to be with you?”

Heero did not seem to think so. His gaze was distinctly wary as it lighted over Milliardo’s features. Still, he did not pull away.

“I see no logical benefit to be derived from ‘being with me‘, and so, I cannot accept your proposition. I do not understand you,” he reiterated. “I think you require something of me but will not disclose it.”

Amazement was too mild a word to describe Milliardo’s feelings. “What could I possibly be hiding from you? I want you to be able to trust in me, Heero. If you’ve never been able to count on anyone before, you can count on me. I won’t betray you.”

When Heero’s frown did not lessen, Milliardo made a dismissive gesture. He smiled.

“Well, never mind that. Let’s not worry about what we won’t have to, eh? Forgive me for asking but … it seemed pretty quiet when I stopped by your place this morning. Do you live alone?”

The real question of course, loomed unspoken between them. Milliardo was in fact, curious about the nurse who showed him into Heero’s living room. He did not, however, want to seem too presumptuous, so he settled on asking Heero about family instead, though, if Milliardo was honest with himself, he knew the two questions were one and the same since the answer to the first inevitably led to the one left unsaid.

Heero’s mouth tightened subtly, the look he spared Milliardo warning him he was aware of the territory Milliardo was delving into and he did not appreciate it in the least.

Still…

Call him persistent, call him a fool, but Milliardo couldn’t give up. If he didn’t coax, if he did not prod just a little would Heero ever open up to him? Of course, part of him was quick to point out that Heero should want to offer these details on his own, but Milliardo found himself noticeably deaf to this. Deaf, but not quite immune. If Heero’s reluctance underscored anything, it was that he did not trust Milliardo, and that for all Milliardo’s good intentions, he had done nothing to earn that trust. He was more likely to aggravate Heero than woo him, and when (most wondrous of all) he was entrusted with Heero’s body — with Heero’s living heat right beneath his fingers — Milliardo had only succeeded in frightening the younger man.

Then what was he good for besides bumbling about? Shouldn’t he just cut his losses? He should, Milliardo reasoned, except what if … what if he was right and Heero’s shyness was really low self esteem, his curtness, grief? If he did not speak about himself much maybe it was because no one had ever appreciated what he had to say. Maybe Heero didn’t know he was worth listening to. What if that were the case? Would Milliardo be so wrong in trying to tease these little tidbits out of him?

He wanted Heero to know he found pleasure in the sound of his voice. For him, Heero needed no logical justification for his existence. That he was here at all, most especially, that he was here by Milliardo’s side was cause enough for happiness. How could he show Heero these things and more if they did not start with simple conversation?

Heero’s walls were so high and it was vexing, vexing vexing, not the least because Milliardo had no context to refer it to. The crucial why of it was missing. Heero had a penchant for self-punishment; well, he wanted to know what had caused it. If Heero did not know human warmth, then who had denied it to him? Some face, some name to explain Heero’s rebuffs would make Milliardo’s failures a little easier to bear. He was convinced the clue to Heero’s problems lay in that nurse and whoever she was responsible for. If only he could find out a little more. He wondered if… Milliardo’s stomach lurched as another possibility suddenly occurred to him.

Unless Heero was sick?

Heero might be a little solemn but he had never seemed anything but the picture of health. Even now his cheeks glowed with ruddy color, reminding Milliardo of their first meeting. He remembered especially the way the Heero’s hair shone in the afternoon light and the clamor that arose in himself at the discovery of the younger man’s innocence. But who could tell in these things? At the time, he’d had no inkling of what a troubled soul Heero was, though the signs were clearly there. What if Heero had been sick all this time and Milliardo never realized? He spun, grabbing Heero’s shoulders.

“Heero, is it you? Gods, tell me you’re all right.”

“I don’t—”

“That nurse, is she taking care of you?” Milliardo demanded, his eyes darting over Heero’s features, searching for any symptoms of malaise. “Are you suffering?”

Heero turned to Milliardo with a grimace. “No. She is attending to my father.”

“Your father?”

“Yes. Last year he suffered a stroke; as a result, he has lost mobility on the right side of his body and can no longer speak.”

Milliardo bowed his head, feeling like a cad for his insistence. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you.”

“But you have help?” Milliardo raised his eyes. “Apart from the nurse, do your relatives stop by often?”

“There are no relatives,” Heero replied woodenly.

Milliardo was puzzled. “But—”

“J is my responsibility. I will not abandon him to any one else.”

“Heero, that is all quite valiant, but it seems I’m missing something here.” Milliardo rubbed at his forehead. “Forgive me for being so dense, but perhaps you can clear things up for me. You’re a college student, working part-time and making at best little more than minimum wage.” He met Heero’s eyes, seeking confirmation. “Am I right?”

Heero nodded.

“Then tell me, how on earth is it possible for you to manage your studies while single-handedly taking care of a convalescent, not to mention affording the health care he requires? I’m assuming you are also responsible for everyday household expenses? My god,” Milliardo blurted as something else dawned on him. “Don’t tell me you’ve also got to come up with rent?”

“Yes.” Heero leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. He stared at the abandoned mug on the coffee table. “What I mean is, I am responsible for most of the things you mentioned but not all of them. The house we live in is old. I inherited it from J who inherited it from his father. Whatever mortgage payments there might have been were paid long ago. I see only to utilities. Well … that and the property tax.”

Milliardo thought of Relena. Young people of her and Heero’s age who were just starting out, most with none of burdens Heero was juggling and certainly with far more help than he, still found themselves living on noodles and powdered drinks. Milliardo was particularly proud of how well his sister was managing things but even then he was never surprised to check his email and find the occasional cry for help. And as big brother, Milliardo dutifully sent whatever Relena needed. By now, he and the agent at the local supermarket’s money transfer counter were so used to seeing each other, they had become friends.

Heero had no such safety net. No wonder he was so tense! Any sane person coping with half of Heero’s responsibilities was bound to become unstable. It tore at Milliardo’s conscience even as it gave him hope. Thus far, he had been unsuccessful in satisfying Heero’s emotional needs, but there were other, more concrete things Milliardo was more than happy to provide if Heero would allow him. Things like groceries, maybe even more intimate items like clothes. These were delicate matters but he wondered when was the last time Heero could afford to buy anything substantial from even the supermarket where he worked. There was something terribly heartbreaking in the irony of it all. Milliardo frowned remembering something Heero had told him when they first met.

“Is that why you took a year off from school to work? You needed the money to pay for those expenses and your father’s … did you call him ‘J”?”

“That is correct. I call him J because he is not my biological father. Still, he left me a sizeable inheritance, which I came into when I reached my majority. I have depended on it to cover most of the bills.”

Heero was adopted? Milliardo stared at the younger man’s bent head. Well, that added an entirely new layer to the situation. Heero’s past was like some great, Gordian knot; the more Milliardo unravelled, the more tangles he was confronted with.

“J owned a computer retail business until it fell upon hard times after an investment in microchip technologies turned sour. I was too young to help.” Heero’s fists were clenched. “We lost the business. Things became more difficult for us, afterwards.”

“And what of the rest of your adopted family: aunts, uncles — your mom? Was no one there to help?”

A spasm ran through Heero’s face. “My mother is dead. I do not wish to speak of this any more, Milliardo.”

Milliardo blanched. “Heero…”

“No.”

Denial, simple and categorical. Milliardo knew when to back off. Their conversation here was finished. Heero was standing and the look of wildness was creeping back into his features. He was expecting an attack, but Milliardo would not give it to him. Before Heero could do anything destructive, Milliardo stepped forward and tentatively folded him in his arms. He risked a kiss to Heero’s temple.

“Thank you for sharing as much as you did with me, Heero.” Milliardo stared down into Heero’s confused gaze.

“It means more than I can say.”

——————————–

Well, at least he is sleeping, now.

Milliardo saw Heero’s dark head against the pillow and was overcome by a wave of tenderness. Grappling with these issues seemed physically exhausting to Heero, he was so out of his element. Milliardo had stepped into the kitchen to begin preparing dinner and returned to find Heero curled up on the couch. He had carried him to the bed where he could rest more peacefully.

A plan was slowly forming in his head that he was not sure he had any right to initiate, but he hoped the gods would not judge him too harshly for his interference. After all, it was done out of … no, he would not name the feeling burning in his chest; best not to dwell on that. Heero was here with him and it was enough. It felt good having another person in the house again.

Now that Milliardo was sure of Heero’s poverty, however, how could he not be moved? Perhaps poverty was too strong a word but Milliardo was aware of his own careless lifestyle and how vastly it differed from Heero’s experience. Careless, not because Milliardo was irresponsible but because he was he was heir to a great deal of wealth that he frequently took for granted. He had been oblivious to it, but Milliardo now realized how much of Heero’s discomfort might stem from the disparity between their fortunes.

What should he do? After the trials of his youth, Milliardo supposed he had come to live a rather insulated life, cushioned from the jabs of fate. Following their parents’ death, he and Relena had known a wracking period of uncertainty that was quickly swept away when they were adopted by their aunt and uncle. He wondered what would have become of them if they were not children of wealth. For him and Relena, the question had never been if, or even how they would be taken care of, but who could be trusted to not have their eyes on the bigger prize.

Heero’s story was tragic enough on the surface, but Milliardo suspected none of it compared to the darker undercurrents he sensed beneath Heero’s straightforward words. Certain things simply did not add up. What had happened to Heero’s parents, for example and why had he been adopted by this ‘J’? Furthermore, wasn’t it odd that this man should have no family a young boy could depend on in times of need? And how does a man of comparative wealth remain so isolated that his care is left in the hands of an eighteen year old boy? Milliardo frowned. What kind of man is victim to such a fate and most importantly, what must it have meant for Heero’s childhood?

Milliardo’s instincts told him the answers were not good. Everything he had seen of Heero suggested confusion and scars deeply hidden.

So here they were. Heero was in pain and Milliardo could not simply stand by and watch. Was he being too arrogant in his assumptions? He very well might. It was distinctly possible he was overstepping boundaries he had no business crossing. Did he think it was worth the risk? Milliardo left the bedroom to retrieve his cell phone.

Hell, yes.
——————————–

“Heero!”

Wufei was waving to him from across the cafeteria. Heero watched as, lifting his tray to avoid the crush of the lunch-time crowd, Wufei weaved through the maze of bodies and came over to his table. He was accompanied by a slim young man who looked about their age, though it was hard to tell due to his height and the seriousness of his expression.

“Hi.” Wufei slid into the seat next to Heero; his friend moved to the other side of the table. “Have you met Trowa?”

Heero shook his head.

“Hey there,” Trowa extended his palm. “Wufei tells me you and Milliardo are friends.”

Heero sprinkled soy sauce over his chicken. Was that what they were? Milliardo had used that word as well. The thing between them seemed far more dangerous to Heero but he refrained from saying so. Perhaps it was best to let others define it for him. Everything seemed so much simpler that way.

“We met a few weeks ago.”

“Did you?” Trowa smiled as he began to unwrap a sandwich. “He’s a nice guy isn’t he? Quatre and I met him last semester, but I believe he and Wufei have been friends for a bit longer than that.” He nodded to Wufei, “Is that right, Chang?”

“Yes,” Wufei dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “Treize introduced us.” He paused, seeming to ponder for a moment.

“Wufei?”

“Pardon?” Wufei looked up at Trowa’s prodding.

“You just looked like you were about to say something.” It seemed that way to Heero as well, though he didn’t know why he should notice it.

Wufei gave a soft laugh. “Oh no, this day has just been somewhat hectic for me; I have a lot on my mind,” he trailed off, staring at his plate.

“Ah.” Trowa crumpled the paper from his sandwich. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I can’t stay too long. I’ve got two hours of theater right after this and I need to run some errands first. It was nice meeting you, though, Heero. I was telling Wufei that Quatre and I are having movie night tomorrow to kick off the weekend. Why don’t you come along? I’ll mention it to Milliardo as well. It will be fun.”

Wufei nodded as Heero temporized. “You should come. Treize and I will be there and Quatre is a good friend; I believe you will like him.”

“I second that, though I am somewhat biased.” Trowa laughed quietly.

“Somewhat?” Wufei snorted.

Heero looked between the two men, sensing something unspoken between them. He saw Trowa’s features soften at Wufei’s joke and he realized that Trowa and this Quatre, like Wufei and Treize, must be lovers. That automatically divided them into three couples for the evening; the other four … and himself and Milliardo. Heero frowned.

Movie night: The very idea was foreign, as foreign to Heero as this sudden group of new friends. Since their first meeting, he and Wufei had spent a considerable amount of time together, mostly for studies, but for other things as well. They often met for lunch and just last week Wufei had invited Heero to accompany him to the local Chinese autumn festival. It was strange to Heero who had always had difficulty making friends, but he and Wufei got along quite well. He even found that he was grateful for the other man’s friendship. It was pleasant having a like-minded person to talk to and Trowa did not seem very different. He was quiet and unintrusive, enough to approve him in Heero’s books. If both Trowa and Wufei were at this ‘movie night’ then Heero supposed it was okay for him to attend. There was always Milliardo to consider but even with the older man’s confounding presence, Heero did not think he would have any trouble maintaining his control in the midst of such a large group.

“We should expect you, then?” Trowa asked.

“Yes.” Heero nodded.

“Great, then I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Trowa gathered up his books, disappearing amidst the crowd with a backward wave. Wufei turned to Heero.

“I thought we’d review the conjugations you emailed me, today. Do you have afternoon classes?”

Heero shook his head.

“Neither do I. Why don’t we head out?” Wufei offered. “You can have dinner with me and Treize.”

“I do not wish to impose…”

“Nonsense, Yuy!”

They left the cafeteria and Wufei led them to where his car, a red two-door German model, was parked. “It’s no trouble at all. Besides, didn’t you work this morning? Surely there is nothing pressing keeping you. You have no excuse not to join us. It’s open,” Wufei called as he flipped his seat over to deposit his books and school bag on the backseat. “Do you want to put your things here?”

Heero shook his head. “I’ll hold onto them.”

Wufei started up. “It is fortunate that I did not take my motorcycle today.” He gave Heero a small smile. “This is much more convenient for us, isn’t it?”

Heero agreed as Wufei navigated through the mid-afternoon traffic. They stopped at the local drugstore to pick up some allergy medicine and Heero accompanied Wufei, following him through the aisles and making light conversation as they waited at the register. It never ceased to surprise Heero how easily their interaction came.

“Have I changed,” he wondered, “Or does the answer lie with Wufei?” It must, for surely he had not become more sociable.

“I am the same as I have always been,” Heero murmured to himself. The same as I have always… His step faltered.

But was it wrong to change?

The skies rumbled and a sudden wind whipped through the trees. Wufei pointed to the mottled clouds on the horizon.

“It looks like it might storm this evening. We better get going. Only a fool would be stuck in this weather without a roof over his head.”

——————————–

Treize greeted Wufei at the door with a kiss, enfolding the younger man in his arms. “Welcome home, my love. Hello there, Heero. Will you be joining us for dinner this evening?”

Heero nodded as he followed the two men inside. Treize was smiling. He sent a questioning look over to Wufei who nodded.

“Well I’m very glad you decided to join us, Heero, since you’re the first person we get to tell our good news.”

“Good news?” Heero repeated, toeing off his shoes near the entryway.

Wufei colored. “Ah, yes, I was planning on telling you over dinner, but I suppose there is no harm in spilling the beans, as they say, right now.”

Heero looked from one man to the other. “Oh?”

Wufei cleared his throat; he moved closer to Treize. “Treize and I are engaged,” he said softly.

Engaged? Heero stared, noticing for the first time the slim band encircling Wufei’s finger. It puzzled him. He did not understand the need to join two lives so intimately and had expected Wufei of all people to insist upon relying on his own strength. What could Treize offer that Wufei could not provide for himself?How did such a thing come to be? What did that band, so thin and fragile, promise that Wufei would risk so much?

Treize’s arm was curled about Wufei’s waist and Heero could see the subtle way their bodies leaned into each other. Wufei did not fight it; instead his own fingers tightened as Treize laced their hands together.

It came upon Heero then.

Touch.

The same touch Milliardo had used to overcome him. Logically, Heero knew it. It was as unavoidable as this home Treize and Wufei shared together, yet he only truly grasped in that moment that Wufei and Treize shared a bed, for that could be the only source of all this love-weakness. Surrender and yielding to damnable touch. J had warned Heero against it. How strange these two men did not know its perils.

Heero saw Wufei’s expression, tight around the mouth as though he was anxious Heero might not give his blessing. It must mean a lot to him, Heero realized with wonder. He could not understand it, but if it was important to Wufei then it was his duty to support him.

Heero reached out and pressed his fingers hesitantly against Wufei’s shoulder.

“Congratulations, my friend.”
——————————–

Treize frowned as he returned the receiver to its cradle.

“Something wrong?” Wufei asked. He and Heero were retrieving the utensils from the cabinet.

“No, I was just trying to get hold of Milliardo again. It seems he’s out. Heero, have you seen him lately?”

“No,” Heero shook his head, “not since a few days ago.”

Treize’s expression was thoughtful. “Hmm … I see. Oh well, I suppose it’s not important; I’m sure I’ll have a chance to tell him tomorrow. Dinner’s getting cold.” Treize smiled as he gestured toward the dining room.

“Shall we?”

Table of contents for Beautiful Dawn

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight

Beautiful Dawn
by Michalyn
Chapter Six

Notes: / … / indicates dream/flashback

————————–

Heero moaned, clutching his pillow. /”What do you think you’re doing?”/

“Heero…”

/”I … miss … Mama–”/

“Heero?”

/”Suck it up, boy. I don’t have time for sissies. Real men don’t cry.”/

“Heero!”

Heero started, and found himself staring into the inquisitive eyes of the nurse.

“You okay?” Hilde probed. “Aren’t you usually awake by now? There’s some guy in living room downstairs. He says he’s here to pick you up.”

Heero tugged his shirt into place. It was rumpled, the collar stiff with sweat. He grimaced. “What time is it?”

“Eight-thirty…” Hilde stepped back with a frown. “You sure you okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine.” Of course he was fine. Heero squelched the image of J, rising like a shiny bubble from the cellar of his unconscious. He was fine.Why wouldn’t he be? He stuffed his shirt into his jeans and began making the bed. How many times did he have to mess up before he finally got it together? He hadn’t overslept in a long time. Not since … since… Heero pressed his lips together. In long enough… He crouched beside the mattress, briskly tucking the fitted sheet into the corners. By the time he tended to J and got through his chores he’d be late. What was worse, he’d fallen asleep without a glimpse at his homework. So much for proving his dedication…

“So what about that guy? You want me to kick him out or what?”

Heero looked up. “Guy…?”

“Yeah,” Hilde smoothed a curl under her cap with a grin. “Big, sexy blond… He a friend of yours?”"

Milliardo… Heero froze. He had forgotten about last night’s promise. Yanking the quilt over the pillows, Heero found his hands strangely unsteady. He curled his fingers into his palm. “I have to shower. Tell him … I will be there shortly.”

“Sure thing.” Hilde hesitated at the door, the light from the hall falling softly over her features. “Heero … that is, Mr. Yuy,” she cleared her throat.

“Yes?” Heero bent to pick up the sweatshirt he’d worn last night and a wave of panic squeezed his chest. A single golden hair was curled about the hood. Heero’s hands fisted in the soft knit. He remembered Milliardo’s lips whispering over his cheek and something within him loosened. Why did Milliardo…? What did it mean — that moment of contact? Heero prickled with heat. And why did it make him feel so muddled … like the bottom of his stomach had tumbled out? Milliardo had said “I want to get to know you.” But why? Why him?

“What I mean is, it’s okay with me, you know? I’m not one of those people who run screaming at the first sight of something different. I’m here to do my job and that won’t change as long as you want me here.” Hilde smiled. “Hell, if you don’t mind me saying so … I think it’s kinda sweet.”

Sweet? Frowning, Heero plucked at his jersey. “I don’t understand.”

“You and Mr. Blond downstairs,” Hilde’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “You make a good pair.”

It took a moment for what the nurse was implying to sink in and when it did, Heero jerked backwards, unfamiliar warmth suffusing his face. She thought they were … that he and Milliardo… Heero shoved the shirt away. “No. you are wrong I—”

“I’ve already checked in on your father for the morning. Since you’re clearly running late, I started preparing breakfast. I should get back to it.”

“Ms. Schbeiker …”

“Yes, Mr. Yuy?” Hilde turned to him, her gaze penetrating beneath the fringe of her lashes.

Heero knew he could not meet it with equal honesty. He shook his head. “Nothing … it’s nothing.”

When he dropped his eyes Heero was startled to find that even as his sweatshirt crumpled to the carpet the golden strand had lingered on his shirt. It clung, to his breast, shimmering, like a tiny thread of sunlight.

————————–

“Here, have you had anything?” Milliardo handed Heero a plastic-wrapped sandwich. It was ham on wheat and he could see the bright lettuce-frills drooping between its crusty edges. Milliardo was watching him intently.

Heero shoved the sandwich back towards him. “I’ve eaten,” he lied, tight-lipped.

They were eating under the shade of a spreading oak. Or rather, Milliardo, with what seemed like a banquet spread out before him was eating on the blanket he had retrieved from the trunk of his car. So far the other man had unpacked double-decker ham sandwiches, a flask of hot chocolate, cinnamon scones and even a little homemade soup, but for Heero, Milliardo’s constant attempts at nourishing him only left him feeling emptier. It pained him to realize that in the careless way of the rich Milliardo saw him as a charity case. Sitting in the living room this morning, had he seen the crooked blinds, the scuffed furniture … Heero’s old shoes in the entryway? They were on his feet now. Heero folded his legs beneath him. He did not want pity…

In the car this morning, he and Milliardo had barely said a word to each other. They rode in a charged silence with Heero all the time aware of the weight of Milliardo’s gaze examining him. Even now, he felt it like a brand between his shoulders blades, so when Milliardo had suggested they have lunch together he should have declined. Yet, inexplicably he found himself hurrying from class. When he arrived at the park Milliardo was already waiting and the smile he gave Heero had left him strangely breathless.

Frowning, Heero traced the edge of the blanket. A leaf, mottled gold and brown was tangled in its tassels and he cupped it in his palm. Diseased and discarded… Heero sighed. J had told him once only the good were rich and that their wealth was the just reward of their virtue. Heero knew his own failings, but he often wondered what J had done to fall from grace — to have been cut down so categorically by whatever power decided the justice in these things. He watched Milliardo’s broad hands with their pink, un-smudged nails and realized that he must be very good. Certainly he had been kind to Heero in his odd, demanding way. He felt that there must be a lesson in here for him. That was why Milliardo left him so muddled. If only he could grasp it. Heero brooded, the leaf twirling between his fingers. But surely a dying thing could not grow green and bright again? It could only hope for shelter in the shadows out of the reach of wind and sun.

“Heero,” Milliardo suddenly asked, “How do you feel about me?”

Startled, Heero looked up. The look in Milliardo’s eyes seemed to say he knew his thoughts. “About you?” he repeated.

“Yes … I … I need to know.”

Milliardo’s hand closed about his fingers. They were as soft as Heero expected — and as strong… He froze, staring at their joined hands and something strained for release inside him.

Touch…

How long had it been since he’d felt the gentleness of that other hand? He thought he had forgotten, but his palm remembered it, his fingers did. Without his knowing they had retained the impression of that softness. Heero watched amazed as his fingers unstiffened and curled around Milliardo’s.

“Heero—” Milliardo groaned. He looked almost as surprised as Heero felt. “I thought last night would be enough. I … I promised myself not to push you but … it wasn’t — isn’t. There’s not a morning I don’t wake up thinking about you since that day we met in the library. Heero, I—” Milliardo’s fingers tightened. “I’m becoming more and more attracted to you every day and I’ll die if you won’t at least let me kiss you.”

Heero remembered the closeness of Milliardo’s body and his breath whispering over his cheek. His hands had trembled when Milliardo pressed him against the door. What did Milliardo want of him? Why couldn’t he find the will to refuse?

Milliardo lowered his head and the gold of his hair was like fire even in the cold autumn light. It tickled Heero’s shoulders and his cheek — blazing him out of existence as his mouth covered his. Milliardo teased the seam of Heero’s lips and Heero gave him entrance before he even knew what was being asked of him. The probe and retreat of Milliardo’s tongue startled him but Milliardo did not allow him to become frightened. His mouth left Heero’s and he lowered them to the blanket, the heaviness of his body settling along Heero’s side.

Milliardo was nuzzling the hollow of Heero’s collarbones and through his shirt his thumb traced the outline of his nipple making him shudder. It whirled through the haze of Heero’s thoughts that this must be part of Milliardo’s strength too — this touch that he had no knowledge of. No matter how he tried Heero could not regain command his body. He shivered in the cradle of Milliardo’s arms even as the other man continued to touch him. Milliardo was murmuring against Heero’s ear: soft words, things that Heero could no more absorb than the sensations Millardo was igniting all over his body. The stiffness below his belt confused and embarrassed him and Heero crossed his legs, flattening his palms against his crotch. He was ashamed that the secret stirring of flesh known to him only in the blurry moments before morning should now make itself known. How horrible it would be for Milliardo to discover his weakness.

He should have known, however, that he could not keep any secrets. No sooner had Heero thought it than his fear was realized.

“Don’t hide.” Milliardo found him. He pried away the seal of Heero’s palms and replaced it with his larger hand. “There’s no one here to see you but me.” Unsnapping the button on Heero’s jeans, Milliardo delved between the gaping teeth of Heero’s zipper to his underwear beneath. His fingers slipped beneath the the elastic waistband and he caressed Heero, releasing sensitive flesh from the confines of soft cotton and denim.

“No—” Heero tried to jerk away but Milliardo’s hand cupped him. It moved and Heero twisted, his fingers clenching in Milliardo’s shirt as color bloomed and burst behind his eyelids. “Ungh!”

“Shh, shh … it’s all right. I’ve got you.” Milliardo’s lips found Heero’s again and this time the kiss was fierce. “Gods … you’re everything I dreamed of. So beautiful … so beautiful…”

He caught Heero behind the knee, lifting him until his thigh was pressed against Milliardo’s hip — parting him with the soft pressures of his hands and mapping him just as surely as his tongue suckling him through the dampness of his shirt. He traced the seam dividing the seat of Heero’s pants, stroking and rubbing at him until Heero wanted to press backward onto those teasing fingertips. His hips rose once, searchingly and he was dashed by a wave of incredible force. The thing struggling within him wrenched free and Heero cried out as a wet heat exploded across his belly. Oddly, there was no pain with the rupture. Heero lay with the smell of grass and Milliardo’s cologne in his nostrils, feeling the the slow trickle of warmth down his stomach. He wondered that he should not feel the slightest worry as his life-blood trickled away from the strange, painless wound on his abdomen. Not even the thought of J was enough to rouse him. There was only warmth, and relief that Milliardo had ended so quickly what he could not. She would come for him now. He had been waiting so long to hear her voice… Heero closed his eyes and waited for the darkness to envelop him.

“Love, are you all right?” Milliardo brushed Heero’s hair away from his forehead. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go so quickly.”

Heero opened his eyes. He didn’t understand. Wasn’t he supposed to be hurt? Heero frowned. “There … is not much bleeding,” he said slowly.

“Bleeding?” Milliardo’s voice rose in alarm. “Where? Have you been injured? Why didn’t you say something before?”

“No, I…” Heero searched between the flap of his jeans and tugged his shirt aside. He touched the wet place on his stomach but there was no blood. He came away with only a glistening whiteness on his fingertips. His frown deepened. “I…” Heero looked up and it was Milliardo’s expression that told him of his mistake.

“Oh, Heero … Love…”

Shame, shame, shame. And J’s voice mocking him in his head. Heero jerked to his feet but somehow his knees had lost the strength to support him. He stumbled and Milliardo caught him.

“Don’t run away. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…” His hand slipped beneath Heero’s shirt to where the evidence of his shame lay hidden. Heero struggled, but Milliardo held on to him. “Please don’t be embarrassed. You did nothing wrong; your response was natural and wonderful and if anyone is to blame here it is I for thrusting this upon you before you were ready for it.”

But he had been ready… Remembering the oblivion he had thought would come, Heero blinked back the burning behind his eyelids. He was a fool and there was only one cure for his ineptitude… Heero clenched his fists. It would take more than his usual regimen to hammer his body intto submission this time. “I must leave.”

Milliardo’s expression was pained, “You can’t return to class like this. Let me take you to my place. You may shower if you wish and you can throw your clothes in the washer and finish up lunch while you wait.”

Heero knew he should refuse, but the prospect of washing away his shame was too strong to resist. He nodded and Milliardo led him to the car, stopping only to pick up the food and the old blanket. The car was parked just beyond the grass and its sleek surface was dappled under the light filtered through the trees. Milliardo opened the passenger door and Heero slid inside.

“Come on, let’s go home.”

————————–

Knotting an apron about his waist Milliardo checked the biscuits plumping in the oven; he studied the golden mounds with a discriminating eye. Hmm … they looked done… Milliardo nodded and turned off the gas. Balancing the baking sheet between mittened hands he carried it over to the counter where two others were already resting. The shower roared overhead and Milliardo bit into a biscuit with a sigh. He always cooked too much when he was nervous. Not that it made a difference: Everything he offered, Heero rejected like the vilest of poisons.

Heero…

What a bundle of contradictions he was. How was he ever going to win him over? Milliardo was so afraid of hurting Heero and yet it seemed inevitable. He didn’t understand the younger man. Heero was so innocent and yet … something in his eyes told Milliardo he had seen far more than anyone his age should have. And what about family? It seemed unlikely that Heero should live in that big old house all alone, but Milliardo hadn’t seen anyone this morning other than that nurse, who puzzled him most of all. What on earth was she doing there?

With Heero, it seemed nothing was simple. Milliardo thought guiltily on that afternoon. He had suspected Heero was inexperienced, but nothing could have prepared him for Heero’s heart-wrenching confusion. He was an innocent in the true sense of the word. How did one get to be Heero’s age and have no experience whatsoever? Sex was one thing, but Heero’s response was too naked, too frantic for him for him to have ever been kissed before Milliardo had held him in the moonlight. More distressing was Heero’s unfamiliarity with his own body. The age difference between them was not so great, but in none of his past relationships had there been such a disparity between his lovers’ experience and his own. Certainly Duo had been well versed in the ways of the world…

Milliardo frowned. It worried him. Could it really work between him and Heero? Treize and Wufei had done it and he didn’t know a happier couple, but was their situation really similar to his and Heero’s? Wufei was sensitive to how others perceived him and Treize would never betray his most intimate of confidences, but it was safe to assume that Treize was the more experienced of the two. Milliardo doubted though, that Wufei had been as conflicted as Heero about his desires. More disturbing, he was coming to realize that what he had initially attributed to shyness in Heero might be linked to something deeper and much more painful.

Milliardo finished off another biscuit with a sigh. What a confusing mess…

As if conjured up by his thoughts, Heero emerged in borrowed sweats and a tee shirt. They were just big enough to call attention to the difference in their builds and Milliardo suddenly had an image of himself as clumsily over-large. Frowning, he moved to wash his dough-covered hands in the sink. “I checked the dryer; your clothes should be done in a minute or so.”

“Thank you.” Heero settled awkwardly on one of the stools, his body half-turned towards Milliardo. He smelled good and Milliardo was seized with the urge to bury his face in the damp, silky hair clustered at Heero’s nape. Heero however, seemed more concerned with trying to occupy as little space as possible on the already narrow stool. He was tense and uncomfortable — and it made Milliardo feel all the more lecherous for his desire. Another sigh escaped him. “Heero—” he gestured helplessly, “biscuit…?”

“No.”

Of course not. What did he expect? Milliardo tugged off his apron. “All right then, let me just clean this up and we can get going. What time does your class begin? Two?”

Heero shook his head. “I do not have any more classes today.”

“No?” Milliardo couldn’t help the surge of hope that possessed him. He struggled to keep his voice steady. “Then, why did you have to leave so soon? Do you work this evening.?” If Heero could stay then perhaps they could make up for this afternoon and get to know each other better. Become friends…

Milliardo could see nothing of Heero’s face as he replied, “My shift begins at seven o’ clock, however, I…”

“Heero, if you feel you have to leave because of this afternoon, please don’t. It was my fault for pushing things forward so quickly and the last thing I want is for you to be shamed in any way because of my idiocy. Please, Heero, if you can … I would like you to stay. ”

“No.” Heero jerked to his feet. He was clenching his fists so hard the veins bulged in his forearms. “Why must you always come between me and my salvation?”

Milliardo was stunned. “Salvation? Gods Heero, what are you talking about?” He could make no sense of Heero’s words and the violence of his reaction frightened him. Heero’s eyes had a wild, hunted look as he faced Milliardo. He edged along the counters and suddenly darted out of the room.

“Heero—” Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why did he always screw things up? Milliardo chased after him, desperate to remedy the damage he had done. He headed towards the living room, thinking Heero was about to leave and hoping to stop him before it was too late. He didn’t expect to stumble over Heero doing furious push-ups in the hall.

“Heero?”

Heero did not answer. His expression was tormented as he pumped steadily, raising and lowering his body until his arms trembled.

Milliardo frowned. “Come on, Heero. I don’t know what you’re trying to prove but, it’s not necessary.”

The mechanical movements did not waver, even as they clearly began to take their toll: sweat glistened on Heero’s arms and rolled off his forehead. His face was red as his panting, quick and sharp echoed between them. Heero’s fingers clenched in the carpet. His body shuddered. He raised himself up again only to heave back down. Milliardo was horrified.

“Heero, stop it!”

“No…,” Heero shook his head, “I must…” His knuckles scraped the carpet as he tried to rise again and Milliardo refused to watch anymore. When Heero’s elbows extended for the umpteenth time, he simply looped an arm about his waist and caught him up in his arms.

Milliardo gathered him close. “Stop. Why are you doing this? What are you so afraid of?”

Heero fought him, but Milliardo was just as determined as he moved to the living room and settled them on the couch. His arms tightened. “I won’t let you go until you tell me what’s going on here. He fingered Heero’s bruised knuckles. “Why did you abuse yourself like this?”

“Not abuse.” Heero’s brow furrowed as he struggled to find the right words. Finally he said: “I was weak; I must be punished for my failure.”

Weak? Punishment? Heero’s words did nothing to allay Milliardo’s fears. Gods, what horrible experience had put these ideas in Heero’s head?

“Heero, what made you weak? Was it my touch?”

Heero stiffened. His head jerked once, convulsively. “I lost control. I did not know. I’m … not used to…” Heero’s jaw clenched; he was blinking rapidly and Milliardo could see that his lips were trembling. ” I try to be strong, but there … are many things I do not understand,” he said slowly. “If only I could…” Suddenly Heero’s shoulders drooped. He leaned forward bit by bit until his head touched Milliardo’s chest. His voice was small — and as lost and confused as a little boy’s as he admitted, “I … am tired.”

Milliardo’s heart broke. He kissed Heero’s temple and hugged the awkward body in his arms even closer. “Shh, shh, I know, Heero. I know and it’s okay.”

“Rest a while. I won’t let you go. “

Table of contents for Beautiful Dawn

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight

Beautiful Dawn
by Michalyn
Chapter Five

Heero gripped the pricing gun. His heart was pounding again and he wanted to escape. What was he doing here? Milliardo’s expression as he stared was inscrutible and Heero wished with everything in him they had never met. He was once again confronted with Milliardo’s overwhelming presence: strange, compelling and frightening for the weakness it inspired in him. The nervous, fluttery feeling was back in the pit of his stomach and his palms were clammy-cold. This time, though, Heero was determined to stand his ground. He set the jar he was holding on the shelf and rested the gun on the floor. Their gazes met.

“Welcome to Huang’s. How may I help you?”

“Heero—” Milliardo spread his hands. He began to say something, then stepped forward, seemingly at a loss. “Surely you remember me?”

“I—”

“Heero, please … since we met I … I… You must remember me.”

Heero trembled. How could he forget?

“Yes … I remember.”

A smile like sunrise broke over Milliardo’s face. “Oh, good … good … I knew it had to be. I thought—” He stopped, laughing. “How have you been?”

“All right.”

“Good, good … that’s wonderful … great … really great.”

“Yes.”

Heero’s fingers curled into his palm. How badly he wanted to be away from here! His life had been in upheaval ever since that time in the cafe: He was restless but Heero did not know what for. No matter how hard he tried, he could not get back the ordered life he was used to. Heero stared at Milliardo, his palms hurting under the pressure of his fingernails. How was he going to get rid of him?

Milliardo flicked his hair over his shoulder and rested against the shelf, his elbow poking a tomato-soup can Heero had packed not an hour ago. As Heero stared, he crossed one ankle over the other with languid roll of his hips as if to say “I’m staying”.

Heero’s stomach churned. He should have known it would not be that easy. Nothing in his life ever was. It occurred to him that till now, his strategy had always been to push Milliardo away. Perhaps it was time to try something different.

Heero forced his mouth into what he hoped was smile. He was so unused to it his lips felt odd and rubbery; his mouth stretched and not at all in a pleasant way, but he pinned it in place and hoped for the best.

“Are you all right?” Milliardo stepped forward in alarm. “You look rather ill.”

Heero flushed, quickly dropping his smile. “No.”

“No? Do you think you should sit? I saw a bench somewhere.”

“No! I am fine.”

“Are you sure?” Milliardo leaned forward and blinked owl-like at him. “Heero, if something is wrong—”

Heero looked up from his study of the linoleum, exasperated. “Was there something I could help you with?”

“What? Oh … I was looking for some ginger, then I saw you and—”

“Milliardo what on earth is taking you so long?”

“Treize! Treize, this is Heero. Heero—Treize. I suppose you can blame him for our encounter the other day. He stood me up and I ran into you.”

Heero looked at the sandy-haired stranger and frowned. Yet another foe.

“Hello,” The man flashed a set of perfect teeth. He had blue eyes like Milliardo, but they danced with mischief when he smiled, like he knew some secret they did not. “So you are Heero? Enchantez.”

Heero grunted.

Treize’s grin broadened. “Still waters run deep eh, Milliardo?”

Milliardo laughed but his eyes flickered over to Heero. “Did we lose Wufei?”

There was a third member to this disruptive party? Heero fought a surge of panic: Order, he needed order. That’s why he liked his computers and equations best. At the end of the day, they were predictable, controllable—safe. But this… Heero looked from Milliardo to Treize. He had calculated wrong somewhere. There was a variable—something—he had not accounted for that day in the library that had precipitated this result. Then why couldn’t he see it? How was he supposed to fix things if he did not know where to start?

But that was always his problem, wasn’t it? Losing control. J would say—

“I must get back to work.” Heero announced, more to himself than anyone else.

Milliardo looked at him in surprise. “I’m sorry, Heero. I keep forgetting you’re doing a job here. Could you just spare us a few more seconds? I really want you to meet Wufei.”

Heero’s fists tightened. Why must Milliardo always demand what he could not give? He with his charming friends and sunflower presence—his insistence… Didn’t he realize there could never be anything between them? They were from two separate worlds. Milliardo was sunlight where Heero was a dark, mossy thing. Why couldn’t he just leave it be?

“No. My shift—”

“There he is!” Milliardo waved, “Wufei, over here!”

A slim youth about Heero’s age came towards them, carrying a small basket. His clothes were casual, but in the traditional Chinese style and his dark hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail. He nodded to Heero. “Well, I think I’ve found everything. Milliardo did you get the ginger?”

Milliardo coughed, “Not … ah … quite.”

“I’m afraid Milliardo was a bit distracted. “Treize winked conspiratorially at Heero like they were in league together. Like Heero had encouraged Milliardo somehow.

Wufei blinked. “Is that so?”

Treize nodded. “Love, this is Heero.”

Heero looked from Treize to Wufei. They were…?

Color rose in Wufei’s cheeks when he noticed Heero’s stare, but he stepped forward and offered his hand, “Nice to meet you, Heero. I am Wufei.”

Heero nodded, studying the fine embroidery on Wufei’s vest. “Do … do you speak Mandarin?”

Wufei smiled, “Na dahng ren”

/”I have been studying it for three years now,”/ Heero said haltingly. He fiddled with his apron, suddenly unsure of his pronunciation and how Wufei might recieve him. He felt a wave of disgust. Why had he even revealed his interest? Why should Wufei care?

To his surprise, Wufei’s eyes lit up and his smile broadened. /”You are quite good.”/

“I … thank you.”

“Treize has been trying to learn, but quite frankly he’s horrible, mostly because he does not put in anywhere near the effort he should.” Wufei glared at Treize who laughed.

“I do try. It just doesn’t seem to do me any good.”

Wufei snorted. “Well Heero, I am very glad to have met you. Perhaps we could meet again some time? It would be nice to have someone to talk with.”

“I … well … yes …” Heero didn’t quite know what to feel.

Wufei shifted his basket to his other arm. “Here, let me write my number and email so we can keep in touch. Treize, do you have a paper?”

Treize rummaged through his pockets and produced a crumpled receipt. “Will this do?”

“Yes, here you go, Heero.”

“Thanks.” Taking the pen clipped to his apron, Heero wrote his email address on the other side of an old label he had picked up on his way to the trash. He handed it to Wufei who began folding it into four, precise sections.

“Thank you, Heero. I’ll probably send you something soon.”

“But–”

“Something wrong, Milliardo?” Treize was wearing a rather puzzled smile. Heero was confused too.

Milliardo’s eyes followed the label as it disappeared into Wufei’s back pocket. He laughed and it sounded nervous. “Ah … nothing.”

Heero frowned. He would never begin to understand Milliardo. Not that it mattered, anyway. It wasn’t as if Heero wanted to get to know him. “I still have three hours left on my shift. My boss will be angry if I do not get back to work.”

Wufei shook his head. “Then why didn’t you say so? We’ll be on our way.”

“Three hours?” Milliardo checked his watch, “Won’t you be getting home rather late? How far do you live from here?”

Heero pursed his lips. “It is my job; I must work late. It takes me about an hour by bus to get home.”

Milliardo looked from Treize to Wufei. “We’re going to have dinner, but I doubt it’d take us past nine. I could give you a ride home.”

“That won’t be necessary.” To be alone with him— He just couldn’t. Heero bit his lip, willing Milliardo to let the matter drop.

“It is nothing. Come now, don’t tell me you prefer taking the bus? At the very least I’d save you a couple of bucks.”

The words were like a fist to the stomach. Heero stiffened. He could argue anything but that. He bent to retrieve the pricing gun. “Well,” he bowed his head, “I will meet you outside at 10:00.”

Milliardo grinned. “Great.”

————————-

“I brought you some dinner. That is, if you’re hungry.”

“No thank you.”

Milliardo down-shifted and the car sped forward. Heero found himself slouching on the slippery leather seats. He pulled himself upright and watched as they sped past an old delivery truck.

“You’re sure? Why don’t you take it home? Who knows, your appetite may return.” Milliardo blinked at him from beneath long lashes.

Heero cast a wistful glance at the bag. He was hungry and it smelled good. Like steamed dumplings and chicken broth and … was that sweet and sour cabbage? Not microwaved or instant or refried. Hot and fresh — like a mother would make it. Real food. Good food . Probably better than he deserved. Heero forced the thick wad of saliva past his throat. His stomach gurgled and he sucked it in. It gave a tiny rumble of protest before surrendering and Heero prayed Milliardo had not heard it.

“So, I didn’t know you worked at Huang’s.”

“You don’t know me at all,” Heero thought, but instead he said: “Yes, I do” and Milliardo laughed like he had said the funniest thing in the world.

“So I noticed.”

Heero really did not understand him.

He only wanted to get home, but Milliardo kept asking him questions, like did he like their university and had he made any friends yet? Prodding, prodding, like he was searching for that rotting wound within Heero to press on. To have him in his power … to hurt him … Nevermind his bright eyes and smiling voice. Milliardo knew it was there. Heero had to be careful, or else he would find it. And where would that leave him? Heero could not afford another failure.

A jazzy-bluesy tune was wafting from the stereo and a whiskey-voiced singer moaned above the saxophone about needing to hold his baby so he could fill the place in his heart. It sounded really sad and Heero thought it was a good thing he didn’t have a heart if it caused so much trouble.

Milliardo’s hair was blowing in the breeze and the moon was shining on his profile just so. It highlighted his nose and the curves of his lips. He looked … Heero didn’t have a word for it, but it made him feel … odd.

“What are you thinking?”

“What? Nothing.”

“Are you always this quiet?”

A puff of air exploded past Heero’s lips. He hunched his shoulders. “Are you always this nosy? ”

“Touche. And no, I’m not always this nosy. You must inspire my curiosity, Heero.” Milliardo’s soft, throaty tone rumbled across Heero’s nerves like thunder.

“Me?” Heero flushed. He fiddled with the apron folded in his lap.

“Yes, you.”

“But—”

“But what? Is that so hard for you to believe?” Milliardo smiled. “Well, I think you’re very interesting, Heero.”

Why would anyone be interested in him? Or maybe what Milliardo meant was Heero was curious —odd. That he could believe. He looked at Milliardo in all his glorious virilty and compared him to himself. Heero nodded. Well, he was right.

Heero frowned. “Take the next turn.”

Milliardo switched on the blinker with a sigh, “No problem.”

Heero took him round the side of the house where the guttering was not so mangled and he was grateful for the way the shadows concealed the scabby paint on the verandah. Still, as they emerged from the porsche , it was obvious the convertible’s sleek design and chrome finish were at odds with the looming bulk and crumbling wood of his home. Milliardo followed silently behind him, no doubt taking everything in. Heero quickened his pace, eager to get inside.

“Thank you for the ride.” Heero stopped and turned around.

Milliardo’s broad shoulders blocked Heero’s view of the car as he stepped forward. “You’re very welcome.”

He could smell Milliardo’s woodsy cologne and Heero didn’t know why but his heart was suddenly beating very fast. His back was to the door and Milliardo was towering over him. His eyes were luminous; Heero would have almost said they sparkled except what he saw in them was nothing so tame. Quite the opposite: Milliardo looked … well … predatory and Heero thought “This is it. He will finally expose me for weakling for the that I am ” but Milliardo just pressed the bag of food into Heero’s palm. He was leaning so close his hair brushed against Heero’s shoulders.

“Heero, would you mind terribly if I came to pick you up tomorrow?” His voice had a strange husky note to it that made Heero quiver.

Heero knew his answer already. It crystallized so quickly in his mind he didn’t even have to think about it: Yes.

He looked at the silver glint of Milliardo’s hair in the moonlight, the way his mouth was parted, the pulse throbbing at his throat … and somehow Heero’s lips said “No.”

Heero didn’t know how it happened; it was really quite strange. Then Milliardo did something even stranger: He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Heero’s cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he’d been wanting to do it for a very long time. Milliardo murmured something but the blood was rushing too loudly in Heero’s ears for him to hear it. He felt the warmth of Milliardo’s breath and the movement of his lips against his skin. They were soft, moist and when they brushed Heero’s earlobe he felt strangely weak and drifting. He had to clutch the food tighter or else it would have fallen.

Milliardo’s fingers pressed into his shoulder and then were gone. “Good night, Heero.”

“Good … good night.”

“Tomorrow then.”

Heero couldn’t speak. His cheek was burning and He closed the door behind him on trembling knees. As he walked through the house, he was scarcely aware of the movement of his limbs. In a trance, he put the food on the fridge, read Hilde’s note about buying more diapers, turned off the lights and went up to check on J.

He was sleeping deeply, an occasional snore rattling from his chest. The lumps of his pillows gleamed like two fat marshmallows in the light coming from the window and Heero sat there at the side of his bed for a long time, watching the pillows and the way J’s head sank into them, so that they seemed almost to envelop it. Heero touched the papery skin of that forehead and his hand trembled.

What was happening to him?

J’s forehead furrowed under his palm and a sharp, incoherent sound burst from his lips.

Accusing him.

Heero snatched his hand away, afraid. He ran to his room and collapsed onto the bed without changing out of his clothes. Rolling himself in the covers he lay there, panting. J’s voice reverberated in his head and Heero stared hard into the darkness around him, trying to forget. His eyelids drooped and he did not fight it. He was drifting to sleep and for once, that was good. Heero did not want to think about tomorrow.

————————-

It was cold behind the dumpster and the air was ripe with the sickly-sweet stench of things in various stages of decay. A furry body rushed along Heero’s thigh and he stifled a scream. He knew better than to cry out. Mama had told him to be very quiet.

There was another one with her today. He was big and scary with hairy arms and his bulging eyes were stitched through with red.

Heero didn’t like any of them or the things they did to his Mama. Mama said it wasn’t anything a little boy should worry about and didn’t he like going to that place down the street and eating the meals with the toys inside? And didn’t Heero know that his Mama loved him and would be with him always? Well, Heero really liked those meals and he loved his Mama even more so he tried to be brave. But he was always so, so scared…

He heard the clinking of the man’s belt and saw his filthy hand reach under to lift his Mama’s dress. He was squeezing her thigh so hard her soft, white flesh bulged through his fingers.

It was starting.

Heero scrunched his eyes shut and drew his legs close to his body. Arms wrapped tight about his knees he rocked back and forth as the man’s grunts echoed around him. There was a steady thump, thump, thump with each clink of the belt and Heero knew it was his Mama’s head knocking against the wall as the bad man hurt her. How he wished he was bigger and not only four years old. He would make the bad man stop hurting Mama. Heero wished they had a real house and not that smelly room they lived in so his Mama wouldn’t have to do this because Heero was a bad boy and his tummy hurt even when he tried his hardest to not be hungry.

The grunting stopped.

Heero cracked an eye open and peered around the side of the dumpster. He saw his mother fixing her dress and the man pulling up his pants. They started arguing. Mama was asking for the money and the man … the man was calling her names Heero did not understand but he knew they were bad.

Mama was crying now and Heero was more afraid than he had ever been. The fear gripped him and his breath came fast, shuddering in his chest. His heartbeat filled his ears and the sound reminded him of the flapping wings of the black birds in the park that always scared him.

The man was walking away and Mama was hanging onto his shirt. Suddenly the monster whirled. He hit Mama and she fell, sprawling right at Heero’s feet. He started to get up then. He wanted to go to her. He had to help her before the terrible stranger hurt her even more… But her large, blue eyes held Heero in place. She mouthed silently, pleading for him to stay put. Heero’s hands squeezed into fists, tears streamed down his face. He wanted to help his Mama! He could not live without her!

The dark wings beat louder.

Her eyes were locked with his the whole time. Even when the monster yanked her up and cuffed her about the neck and shoulders, and at the very last when the gun seemed to appear out of nowhere and the monster jabbed it against the side of her head — against the soft place where her hair curled away from her scalp. The place Heero liked to kiss as she held him in his arms so he could sleep.

There was a soft click.

Heero bolted awake.

Notes:

Na dahng ren : ( Mandarin) “Well, of course”

Table of contents for Beautiful Dawn

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight

Beautiful Dawn
by Michalyn
Chapter Four

Milliardo toed off his shoes and dropped his keys on the table. Rifling through his mail, he found a bunch of coupons, two bills and a picture from Relena, with a note attached. The photograph was of a recent trip to Cancun and in it Relena was all smiles. The little square pasted on the corner read:

Having lots of fun! Wish you were here!

Love, Lena

Milliardo smiled. Well, it certainly seemed she was settling in all right.

While she was in high school, his sister had lived with their Aunt April and Uncle Tom. The couple had adopted them after their parents’ death and both Milliardo and Relena thought of them as “Mom and Dad.” It was especially true for Relena who had been too young to remember the accident. This summer, however, she had graduated and now lived in Boston with her boyfriend. Harry was a soft-spoken, coffee-skinned chemist who shared Relena’s passion for politics. He and Milliardo had met a few times and they got on splendidly.

As much as Milliardo was glad his sister was making the most of her new independence, he had to admit, he missed having her around; she was always such a spot of sunshine, no matter what the day was like. His lips quirked: that sunshine would have been great yesterday after his encounter with Heero. Milliardo still hadn’t figured out where he went wrong.

Grabbing an apple on his way past the kitchen, Milliardo logged into his computer. He hoped Relena was online. He was still getting used to the idea of his sister as a grown woman and couldn’t imagine telling her about his love life but Milliardo knew just hearing her voice would make him smile.

He didn’t have to wait long. He had just finished checking his email, when a little message box flashed on the toolbar. It was Harry, however, and not Relena who greeted him on the fuzzy web camera display. Milliardo adjusted his microphone.

“Hey Harry, how’s it going?”

“All right … you?”

“Not the best in the world but pretty good. Are you in class yet?”

Harry nodded, “Lena and I started this week.”

“Hun, who’re you talking to?” Behind Harry, Milliardo caught a flash of rumpled hem and below it, a round, feminine thigh.

“Was that my sister?”

Harry froze. He looked over his shoulder and winced, “Um … yeah.”

Milliardo chuckled, “Should I even bother to ask why she’s half naked?”

“Well you see, um…” the younger man seemed just about ready to bolt and Milliardo couldn’t help smiling.

” It’s all right, Harry, I won’t interfere. I’m sure you both are smart enough to be responsible about sex.” He leaned forward to peer directly at Harry, “Right?”

“Uh … yeah … um … lemme get ‘Lena.”

“Baby, I said who’re you— Oh hey, Mil,”

A young woman came into view, her honey blonde hair swinging about her ears in a fashionable bob. Relena nudged Harry out of the way and peered into the camera. She was wearing just the oversized tee shirt and as she bent forward, her full breasts swayed beneath the thin cotton, obviously unhindered. “What’re you doing home so early?” Relena looked from Milliardo to Harry. She frowned. “Mil, were you giving one of your ‘lectures’ again?”

Milliardo pressed a hand to the bridge of his nose. When the hell had his pigtailed, little sister blossomed into this vixen?

“Relena, Mary-Ann Peacecraft, would you take pity on your poor brother and kindly put some clothes on?” He was glad Relena was adjusting well and he was perfectly happy to support his sister, but there were some things a big brother just did not want to see.

Besides… Milliardo hated to admit it, but it seemed all the people in his life were moving on faster than he could ever catch up with them. Though Treize would surely deny it, their relationship had not been the same since he met Wufei. As for love… Milliardo did not even want to think about his last relationship — and if yesterday’s incident was any indication, he certainly was not making any progress in that area.

“—And no I was not lecturing. I was merely telling Harry… ”

Relena raised an eyebrow.

Milliardo raised his palms in surrender. He grinned, “All right, all right, I get the point. What have you been up to? I just got the photo from Cancun today.”

“Really? That was pretty quick.” Relena tucked her hair behind her ears, “I’m doing okay. My classes seem fine and I have Harry to help me with everything else, so I don’t feel nearly as lost as I would have otherwise. I can only imagine how difficult it would be without him.”

Relena leaned over to kiss her boyfriend but Milliardo barely noticed. He was thinking of Heero and how different his experience must have been to his sister’s. They were both starting college for the first time but as far as Milliardo could tell, Heero had no friends and he hadn’t mentioned anything about family in the area. No wonder he was so skittish; he hadn’t given the poor guy a chance to find his bearings.

Milliardo was sure if he introduced Heero to his friends they would welcome him. At least in terms of work habits, Wufei especially seemed to have a lot in common with Heero, and Treize, Quatre and Trowa always enjoyed meeting new people. The question was, could he get Heero to come near him again after yesterday’s fiasco?

“—think he’d at least pay attention.” Relena’s dry tone drifted over the speakers.

“Sorry, got lost there for a second.”

“It’s okay. I was asking: What about your love life? Any recent developments?”

Milliardo thought of Heero somewhat wistfully, “No … not really…”

“Not really? ” Relena frowned, “Mil, I know Duo was a big part of your life, but at some point you have to move on. You’re a great guy. If you’d just get out a little you’d realize there are plenty other wonderful men out there — and they’d be more than happy to get to know you.”

Milliardo rubbed at the bridge of his nose, “I do get out…”

“When was the last time you had a date?”

“I…”

Behind him, he could hear the phone ringing and never was Milliardo more grateful. He looked at his watch, “Is it six already? Sorry, Relena, that’s probably Treize calling. I’m supposed to meet him and Wufei for dinner in a few minutes.”

To make up for the missed coffee session, Treize and Wufei had invited him to dinner. Tonight, Wufei was chef and Milliardo was sure the meal would be delicious. Wufei was an excellent cook and his creations never failed to delight. He had, however, mentioned needing to pick up some specific ingredients first, so instead of driving to their house, Treize and Wufei had offered to pick up Milliardo on the way to the supermarket.

“No prob, Mil.” She shot him a meaningful look, “You’re off the hook for now, but don’t think I’ll forget about this.”

Milliardo smiled, ” I know. Love you.”

“You too… Tell the guys I said hello okay?”

“I will.”

Milliardo waited for Relena to log off and then hurried to the phone with a smile. Good food, good wine and even better company: perhaps that was just what he needed to put things in perspective.

—————————

“Treize, I’m telling you, he is exquisite.”

“‘Exquisite’?” Treize glanced at Milliardo through the rearview mirror, “That’s quite a change from the disillusioned man I spoke to last week.”

Milliardo sighed from the back seat, “You just have to kick a man while he’s down, don’t you?”

“Sorry, Mil ” Treize chuckled. He glanced over at Wufei, “Is it this way, darling?”

Wufei nodded, “The supermarket should be coming up on your left, on Hamilton Drive. Milliardo, do you think it’s serious between you and this Heero?”

“I can’t say so since I’ve only just met him … but I think I want it to be.”

Treize looked startled, “I didn’t realize things had progressed so quickly. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you talk like that.”

“Honestly Treize, I couldn’t say if they have progressed at all. In fact, it’s safe to say they went rather badly. I invited him to coffee the other day and I made total mess of the situation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he never wanted to see me again. I’ve tried telling myself it wasn’t meant to be, but damn it, I just can’t shake this feeling…” Milliardo shook his head. “Do you know what I mean or have I completely lost it?”

“Of course I do. Sometimes you know when something’s right.” Treize reached over to squeeze Wufei’s hand.

“Hmm…”

Treize smiled, “Come on, man, don’t tell me you’re giving up that easily? When are you going to see Heero next?”

Milliardo shook his head, “Did I not just speak of the utter disaster that was our first meeting? It’s rather pointless what I want if Heero isn’t willing.”

Wufei glanced over his shoulder, “but is he unwilling? I’m afraid I didn’t quite get a sense of what happened. You messed up, but why is it the end of the world? Talk to him.”

Treize nodded, “I agree with Wufei. This hesitation is unlike you, Milliardo. Perhaps you’re the one who isn’t truly willing?”

“I am willing,” Milliardo frowned, “I’ve just learned to be more careful…”

“Good — excellent even — but don’t let your caution turn to cowardice, eh, Mil?” Treize raised an eyebrow.

He made the turn and they found themselves at a supermarket specializing in Asian food and spices. It was part of the local strip mall and was neighbor to a bank and a thrift store. Treize pulled into a parking spot and they walked past the rows of shopping carts toward the storefront where neon green, pink and yellow posters announcing the week’s specials were pasted on the glass. There was a ‘bargain tray’ of miscellaneous items on the pavement just outside the main entrance and an elderly lady with a wide-brimmed straw hat was rummaging idly through it.

“This is nice, Wufei,” Milliardo peered at the overhead sign with its fat, black and red Chinese letters, “Any idea what that says? It seems so wonderfully esoteric.”

Wufei looked up and laughed, “Not so esoteric. It just says: ‘Huang’s Grocery’.”

“Besides, Einstein, it’s written over there in English,” Treize jerked his thumb at the awning above the automatic doors.

“You know, you’re really becoming a nuisance. Did I ask for your input?”

Treize grinned, “Well, I could see you needed my help.” He patted Milliardo on the shoulder, “Seriously, though, tell me, what can we do to help? I for one will be happy to see you getting back out there and dating again. ”

Wufei nodded, ” I would like to meet Heero as well. Perhaps we can invite him to dinner sometime?”

Milliardo released a breath he was not aware he had been holding, “I— that would be wonderful. Truthfully, I wanted to ask, but I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Presumptuous?” Treize’s expression darkened, “We are best friends, Milliardo. When has that ever been an issue?”

“I know. It’s not an issue. It’s just lately—” Milliardo glanced at Wufei, who was listening to them with interest. “You are right … I was being a fool.”

Wufei looked from him to Treize. An emotion somewhere between suprise and hurt crossed his features before it was swiftly concealed. He lowered his head, “I’ll grab a basket.”

“Love?” Treize followed Wufei while Milliardo trailed guiltily behind them, cursing his wayward tongue. When the hell would he learn to keep his mouth shut? He admitted to feeling a little “slighted” by Treize of late, but Milliardo genuinely liked Wufei and considered him a good friend. The issue was between himself and Treize. The last thing he meant to do was hurt Wufei’s feelings.

Milliardo sighed. He had caused enough damage for one night. Best to try to make up for it and enjoy the evening. He and Treize however, would have to have a talk very soon.

—————————

Milliardo peered at the vegetables on display, “Still not seeing any ginger…”

In the interest of saving time, he, Treize and Wufei had split up, each to find a share of the ingredients. So far however, this was his second time in the vegetable aisle and he was still empty-handed. Milliardo scratched his head. He was sure he had followed Wufei’s directions; now why couldn’t he find the damn ginger? It was almost becoming a habit with him these days. First the library and now this? Milliardo frowned. Was he that distracted?

“Now, did he say he’d be in the dairy section or was he going to get the rice…?” Milliardo looked around, hoping to spot Treize or Wufei but neither was in sight. He wondered if he should admit defeat and go find them, or if it was worth giving it one last look. Moving past the refrigerated greens, Milliardo wandered in search of an attendant.

A young man was kneeling on the floor, stacking spices onto a nearby shelf and Milliardo headed towards him. As he came closer, Milliardo couldn’t help thinking there was something about the shape of his head and the way his hair was ruffled at the crown, but he couldn’t quite place it. He watched the oddly graceful movement of the boy’s arms as he unpacked the bottles, tagged them and placed them on the shelf. Grab, tag, shelf, repeat, grab tag, shelf, repeat— his hands never paused. Milliardo watched, mesmerized. He saw the hair dusting the boy’s forearms and the rosy, delicate points of his elbows and Milliardo tried to figure out why on earth he seemed so familiar…

“Pardon me, could you help me find something?”

“Yes?” the dark head turned.

Milliardo froze. His gaze traveled incredulously from the soft, familiar, face to the nametag pinned to the boy’s breast pocket, his name spelled out in bold letters. Milliardo stumbled forward.

“Heero?”

Table of contents for Beautiful Dawn

1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
7. Chapter Seven
8. Chapter Eight

Beautiful Dawn
by Michalyn
Chapter Three

Winston Street was in fact a tiny cobbled avenue about a block from the main campus. It was a favorite hang-out for the university crowd, who loved the vintage shops, used book stores and of course, cafes, lining its pavements. Most of the buildings were bright, wooden structures with awnings or heavily curlicued fretwork along roof-edges to add to the faux, old world charm of the quarter. Couples were walking leisurely together in the afternoon sun and the dark aroma of roasted coffee beans hung fat in the air as Milliardo and his pretty companion crossed the street to his favorite cafe. There were a few students lounging outside on the patio , reading newspapers or smoking. Purple geraniums were growing in narrow pot on one side of the entrance and a bearded man was stooping to examine them. As they paused in the middle of the sidewalk to read the day’s specials a girl with a polka dot bandana whizzed past, looping around them on her bicycle.

“Well, here we are.”

Milliardo led the way inside and they sat near one of the windows at the far left of the room. A breeze blew in, ruffling the boy’s hair. His cheeks were flushed with healthy color and Milliardo tried hard not to stare, he was so lovely.

“By the way, I don’t think I caught your name? I’m Milliardo.”

“Heero.”

“Hii-roh?” Milliardo turned the exotic syllables over in his mouth. He should have known his name would be something special. He smiled. “I like it.”

Heero shrugged turning the menu around between his fingers. He seemed uncomfortable.

“Are you sure this is ok?” Milliardo searched his features. “I know it’s not the best, but the crowd’s pretty nice and the prices aren’t too bad. Still, if you had somewhere else in mind…”

Heero shifted in his chair. “No, it’s all right.”

“You’re sure?”

Heero nodded.

“So … how’s your day going so far? You’re a freshman right?”

“Yes. Today is my first day.”

Milliardo’s eyes widened. He hadn’t expected Heero to be a first semester freshman. It made his presence in the library all the more puzzling. “This is your very first day then? First time in college?”

“Yes, I…,” Heero’s gaze dropped to the tablecloth, “I couldn’t start right away. I … wanted to work for a year after I graduated from highschool.”

Milliardo twiddled with he salt shaker, “So you’re nineteen?”

Heero shook his head. “Eighteen. I—” he cleared his throat and picked at his rolled-up napkin, “Advanced placement…” he trailed off with a flush.

Milliardo listened and a softness rose up in him. He had not expected it: this shyness in Heero. Most of the good-looking men he knew (beloved Treize included) were very well aware of their charms. Yet, the more he studied Heero, the more Milliardo realized the younger man had no inkling of his own appeal. He saw the little curves of Heero’s earlobes reddened in the light from the window behind him … his smooth skin … the exquisite slenderness of his neck and wrists and blood beat strong in Milliardo veins. Maybe it was just first-day jitters or nervousness about meeting someone new, but there was something in the stiffness of Heero’s shoulders and the way he couldn’t quite meet his gaze that made Milliardo think it had more to do with inexperience.

Heero was an innocent.

Maybe Heero was too reserved, or the opportunity simply had not presented itself, but Milliardo was almost sure he was right. He was equally surprised at the jealousy that sprung up at the thought of Heero with another lover. He only just met him, but Milliardo knew he wanted to be the one to introduce Heero to passion. How sweet it would be to hold Heero’s small, firm body in his arms and watch pleasure transform him…

Heero had pulled one of the pamphlet menus from the sheaf at the center of the table and was studying it with a frown. Milliardo watched as a lock of hair fell into his eyes, shielding them. He worried his lip.

The question was: would he get the chance?

Milliardo released a shaky breath. Lost in his amorous haze, he realized he hadn’t spoken for some time. He berated himself. Fate threw him a wonderful chance to redeem his love-life and what did he do but wander off to never-land. Where was his charisma, his sharp repartee? Milliardo marshalled his resources and tried again. He smiled at Heero with what he hoped was a measure of charm. “Shall we order?” Heero nodded and he signalled to the waitress, “And while we wait, why don’t you tell me more about yourself?”

Heero did not answer right away. His brows knitted as if he was somehow thrown by the question. He darted a glance at Milliardo. ” I … am unsure what there is to tell,” he said carefully.

Milliardo found the curious turn of phrase utterly endearing. A warm, expanding feeling spread through him. So soon, and already he knew he would have to see Heero again. Milliardo leaned forward on his elbows. “Well, let’s start with the simple stuff. What’s your major?”

“Programming.” Heero pressed a little backwards into his chair, “You?”

“History; I’m working on a thesis right now.”

“Then, you’re a grad student?”

“Right,” Milliardo nodded, “just turned twenty-three. Like you, I finished up a little early.”

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” the waitress pulled her pen from her apron pocket and smiled down at them, “what will you have today?”

“Hey, Rita,” Milliardo handed her the menu. “Give me my usual.”

“All right,” she scribbled on her pad. “That’s one cappuccino — dry. She nodded to Heero, “And what’ll you have, hun?”

Heero slid the little booklet across the table. His voice was soft: “I’ll just have some water, please.”

“Water?” Milliardo protested, ” Come on, Heero, surely you—”

Insistent, Heero turned to the waitress, “Yes, water — with ice.”

“Alrighty,” she tucked her pen behind her ear, ” One dry cappuccino and an ice water. Sound right?”

Both men nodded.

“Then I’ll be back before you know it.”

Milliardo frowned as he watched Rita make her way across the room. He was an ass.There was a much nicer cafe down the street. They should have gone there instead. He was sure Heero would have preferred it — most people did. Milliardo shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He felt like such an idiot he doubted he would have any taste for his cappuccino when it came — especially if Heero was sipping water. He shook his head. “I’m sorry, Heero, we shouldn’t have come here.”

Heero looked up, startled. “What?”

“I’m sorry nothing on the menu caught your fancy. Are you sure you don’t want to go somewhere else? There’s another coffee shop just round the corner…”

“There is no need.”

Milliardo grimaced. ” It’s really all right. We don’t have to stay here.” He started to reach for his coat. “Come on, let’s find somewhere with a better selection.”

“No, the menu is fine. Only—” Heero stiffened and jerked to his feet. His chair scraped harshly against the tiles. “I should go.”

“Wait! Don’t leave!” Milliardo scrambled to his feet. Christ, whatever he said, it was obvious he had just firmly planted his foot in his mouth.

“No, no, this was a mistake.” Heero was shaking his head and gathering up his backpack. “I must get to work.”

Shit! He was such an idiot! Milliardo grabbed his keys and stuffed his coat over the crook of his elbow. He hurried after Heero. “Well, at least let me take you there. I’m parked about five minutes away. If you’d just wait—”

“No!” Heero whirled, eyes flashing and fists clenched. “Just stay away!”

Stunned, Milliardo stopped. He watched as Heero weaved blindly across the room to the entrance, his shoulders hunched in hard little line as he sprinted up the street.

A small crowd had gathered and Milliardo thought he recognized a few faces from his classes, but he was too confused to care. In a daze, he went back to the table, dropped a few bills for the drink, left Rita a tip and made his way outside.

The cafe was at the foot of a slight incline and in the growing dusk, orange light spilled from the top of the street, making the cobblestones shine like pennies. Milliardo gathered his coat about him. He stared in the direction Heero had disappeared and sighed. What the hell had just happened?

————————–

Heero didn’t stop until his heart was contracted painfully in his chest and his lungs threatened to burst. He found himself in an arbor on the perimeter of the science buildings and he collapsed on the grass, breathing hard. Every one of his limbs was shaking and for long time Heero lay there, confused and afraid in the leaf-dark grove — battling himself.

What had he been thinking? J was at home struggling for every breath and he had been ready to squander their resources on expensive coffee. What was worse, for a minute in the cafe he had actually considered abandoning all duty and not going to work — just because a stranger smiled at him. Heero remembered the blonde’s name, long and regal-sounding: Milliardo… He didn’t understand himself or the strange yearning that rose in him in the other man’s presence. It filled him with fear. What kind of person was he, to betray his responsibilities so easily? What must he do to become stronger?

Heero closed his eyes. At least he had come to his senses when the waitress had come. He inhaled, forcing calming breaths into his body. It was okay, it was okay: he hadn’t completely failed. He had misstepped, but it was not too late to redeem himself. He looked at his watch and saw that it was almost time he was at work. Heero stood and hurried towards the bus stop with new determination. He would do better. He would not become another disappointment. Heero’s resolve grew with each step and by the time he changed into his uniform and found his seat among the other tired students, darkness had fallen, and the memory of the blonde was swiftly fading, like the distant howl of the wind in the night.