Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Wing universe and make no profit from writing about it.
Note: Many thanks to the amazing Kaeru Shisho for babysitting this one with me. Not quite a confused fantasy whirlwind, I know, but Mr. Chang is far too logical for any of that…
The Thing that Didn't Happen:
Chapter 1/2:
When he asked, he was allowed five minutes in the officers' bathroom. The guards came in with him, the two agents he'd never met before, for no reason he could think of, other than to emphasise the depths of his disgrace. Wallace, to his credit, stood awkwardly by the door, studying his highly polished shoes. The other one, the one whose name he hadn't caught, shadowed him to the row of sinks, avidly watching his every move.
Wufei splashed cold water on his face and then retied his hair, dragging it back viciously. There would be another hair tie somewhere on the white carpet in the hotel suite, the one Zechs had taken off.
He managed the whole process without looking at his reflection. Managed not to throw up as well, which was a far greater accomplishment.
'Ready, sir?' Wallace asked softly, from the corner. Sir. It was no more than an empty courtesy, now, although he presumably meant well.
Wufei squared his shoulders. Better to get it over with. 'Ready.'
Everyone knew, of course. Oh, not the details, but the bare facts that Chang had appeared back at Preventers HQ – under guard – in the middle of an assignment guarding the king of Sanque. Everyone knew that he'd been escorted straight to the Commander's office.
Anyone could see that he was no longer wearing his badge or his gun.
He met stares, ranging from sidelong to blatant; a range of expressions from sympathetic to purely gloating, along the walk to his office. Plenty of half-heard comments. It didn't take long to clear what he wanted out of his office. The book Trowa had lent him; he'd have time to finish it now. The framed photograph of the five of them. The cactus Sally had given him for Christmas, and a few of Duo's gag gifts.
Not much to show for almost seven years, really.
He was trying to find the best way to hold the cactus – prickly damn thing – when the door burst open.
'What. The fuck. Is going on?' Duo demanded, exploding around the door, and cannoning into Wallace. Heero, a step behind, grabbed his partner's arm, keeping him upright.
'Duo. Not now.' He gave Wufei a terse nod. 'Have you got everything? Come on.'
Wallace, very red, cleared his throat and saluted. 'Sir. We have direct orders from the Commander to escort Mr. Chang off the premises.'
Mr. Chang.
That was it, then.
'Well, the commander can take her fucking orders and shove them where..' Duo stopped suddenly, catching Heero's eye, and abruptly switched to what Trowa called his I-outrank-you-asshole tone. 'I think Major Yuy and I can manage to escort him, don't you?'
'Sir!' Wallace threw him another salute, looking embarrassed and relieved and profoundly grateful at the same time. Wufei thought the other guard might have protested but Duo was already shoving past him, and then the three of them were outside in the corridor.
'So help me,' Duo was muttering, 'if anyone looks fucking sideways at us, I'll shoot them.'
Nobody did. Nobody, Wufei thought, would dare. Duo was practically incandescent with fury; Heero had his mission face on, several shades more grimly murderous than usual.
He was grateful, of course, for their presence, for their support, but somehow it made everything worse, and it had been bad enough before.
Duo's silence lasted precisely until they got into Heero's car, and then he lost it. 'The hell is happening, Chang? Seriously?'
'Nothing.' He wanted to be sick again. 'Nothing happened. Duo, please. I can't talk about any of it. Not now.'
Duo looked, for the space of a heartbeat or two, like he wanted to hit him, then he pulled him into a hug. 'It's OK. 'Fei, it's OK. We'll sort it out. I swear. It'll be OK. Everything will.'
So tempting to believe him, to listen to the fierce, bright determination in his best friend's voice. He couldn't really see, though, how it would be OK, however hard he tried. It all seemed like a dream now, a dream that had turned into his worst imaginable nightmare. He stayed in Duo's arms, all the same, let Duo hold him tightly, and tucked his face into Duo's shoulder. The stiff material of Duo's uniform jacket felt odd against his cheek, so different from Zechs' soft robe, from his skin.
Oh, Gods.
He pulled away just in time, wrenched the door open, and threw up on the ground of the parking garage. After, they gave him tissues and a bottle of water, and Duo held him again, the two of them curled in the back, with Heero driving and shooting concerned glances backwards.
He couldn't stop shaking.
They took him to their apartment without asking where he wanted to go. He would have preferred the sanctuary of his own home, if they'd asked, but he didn't object, just let them lead him inside and give him tea and one of Sally's more hideous crocheted blankets and a cat to curl in his lap. That was good, he had something to focus on; he could stroke the soft tabby fur and listen to the little animal's rasping purr.
'I know you don't want to talk about it,' Duo said softly. 'I get it. Whatever happened, but…'
'Nothing happened,' Wufei snapped at him, loud enough to startle the cat. She gave him an affronted look and dug her claws into his leg.
Nothing had happened. That was to be the official story. They'd all been very clear on that; Une, and the representatives from the palace, and the officials from the Sanque Civil Service and the government minister.
Nothing at all had happened, or at least nothing that he was allowed to talk about.
He took a sip of the tea Duo had made; he'd added far too much sugar and some sort of alcohol but it tasted wonderful. He focused on that, trying to find some sort of balance.
Friday.
The last thing Zechs had said before he left.
Duo sighed, leaning against him. 'Yeah, right. Nothing happened. That's why you were dragged back from Nova at the crack of dawn and half the damn palace stormed into Une's office. One thing, OK? This thing….the thing that didn't happen, was it consensual?'
'Duo!' His head, bent over his mug, shot up at that. 'What? How did you know?'
'I'm not stupid. Something happened,' Duo pressed closer, reaching out to take Wufei's hands. 'Just so you know, the rumour mill's pretty much divided on whether you two jumped each other, or you took a shot at him.'
Oh, dear gods. He'd never thought – had imagined people would assume he'd made some sort of professional blunder. (Which he had, if you thought about it. His career was definitely over.)
'Listen, 'Fei,' Duo went on. 'If we're to assassinate the king of Sanque for hurting you, it's better we know ASAP so we can start planning. I hear he's got a fairly good security service. So. Yes or no?'
He couldn't speak, just gave one terse nod.
Consensual.
What an inadequate word, really, for what had happened.
'Shit,' Duo muttered, and the others both stared at him.
'You would prefer if he'd forced me?' Wufei asked.
'No! Shit, no. 'Course not. Sorry! I didn't mean anything like that, but it would kind of let you off the hook and stuff if you hadn't had any say in it. Plus we could go and kill him and that'd make me feel a hell of a lot better, and actually I'm still pretty damn tempted just to go for it for the way he's treated you…'
'Duo, stop.' Wufei begged; amazed, appalled at the fact that he suddenly wanted to laugh. 'I would very much appreciate it if you didn't kill him. It was…entirely consensual.'
'Consensual, my ass! Jesus, 'Fei! Your whole career is fucked now; you do get that, right? Seven freaking years in Preventers! And for what? Some bored aristocrat who wanted to live out a fantasy about fucking his bodyguard?'
'It wasn't like that.'
'The hell it wasn't! If it meant something to him, where the fuck is he now? How come you're the one whose career's just gone down the tubes, who's probably facing disciplinary charges? I'm surprised Une didn't strangle you with her bare hands, honestly. You know how long she spent trying to get the palace to accept Preventers as part of his security detail? You think they'll ever let anyone else wearing the uniform get within a mile of him now? Shit, they could close down the entire organisation in Sanque.'
He hadn't thought of that. Oh no, correction, he hadn't allowed himself to think of any of it, because of course he'd known all along.
Duo rolled his eyes. 'Yeah. It's kind of important, really. I hope it was worth it, whatever didn't happen last night.'
That comment brought a host of memories leaping into his brain; the things he'd been trying so hard not to think about during that interview, all the things that had been said.
'Yes,' he said firmly. 'It was…very much worth it.'
Zechs nods politely, the way he always does, and wishes them a good night in the usual tone of cool civility. He's always polite; good at remembering names and using them; always thanks his bodyguards at the end of their shift; thanks waiting staff and drivers and anyone who performs any small tasks for him. He does it all the way he seems to do almost everything in his life, without any hint of any real feeling.
He looks tired, Wufei thinks, watching Zechs' shoulders slump a little as he walks into his suite, not realising anyone is looking at him. It's hardly surprising; it's been a long day. An early morning flight to Nova and then visits to the new wing at a hospital, and a veterans' home, and a foundation for children orphaned during the war, and then an interminable reception given by the Chamber of Commerce.
And they'd been running late the entire time, because Zechs drives his staff insane by refusing to follow their carefully planned schedules, insisting on spending extra time talking to a sick child or to a young volunteer, so now it's almost midnight and the flight to Brussels will leave in less than seven hours.
No wonder he's exhausted.
Wufei's tired himself; it's not easy being on Zechs' security team. The man is ridiculously careless of his own safety, disregards precautions and protocols whenever he feels like it, which is most of the time. When he's chided for it, he just looks mildly surprised and says he's quite capable of taking care of himself (which is true, really) and spends a couple of days doing what he's told, blatantly humouring them.
Wufei had had a couple of hours off in the afternoon, though; enough time for a swim in the hotel pool, and half an hour to lie on his bed with a book. Zechs has been on the go all day, constantly in the public eye, smiling and saying graceful things and standing to be photographed.
When he turns to pull the door closed, his forehead is creased, and one finger is rubbing the bridge of his nose. A migraine, Wufei thinks, recognising the signs.
There are some small shops in the hotel lobby, he's walked past them; a boutique and a jewellers' and a patisserie. And a pharmacy. Zechs probably has his own medication but then he surely would have used it by now? Maybe he doesn't.
His shift's officially over; it won't take long to go down to the shops. He spends a few minutes talking to Ryan, the agent who's taking over for the night shift and heads for the lift.
The pharmacy is well stocked; they have the brand Quatre prefers. Wufei buys a packet, and some aspirin as well. When he gets out of the lift on Zechs' floor, Ryan nods. The palace bodyguards mostly ignore him, which is par for the course. They're not much liked in Sanque, Preventers. A quasi-military force in a country famed for its pacifism.
They're not liked at all as members of Zech's security team. The monarch has always been protected by an elite palace guard, a position of high honour. No one likes these foreign interlopers muscling in, whose first loyalty is supposed to be to their commander, and ultimately the ESUN.
No one talks about the fact the Preventers are not really there to protect the king, but for another reason entirely, although that's highly classified to the point where it's probably not even written down anywhere.. King Milliardo – Wufei does make an occasional effort to think of him by that name - did try to blow up the planet, not so many years before. The main role of his Preventers guards is to prevent anything of the sort ever happening again.
It takes Zechs – Milliardo - a while to answer his knock and he looks surprised and then concerned.
'Is something wrong, Captain?'
'No, your majesty.' He feels a bit of an idiot, now actually. The man is the king of an entire country; if he wanted pills, anything at all, he has plenty of people to summon. He takes a step into the room. 'I thought, perhaps you might need these?'
Zechs takes them, frowning, and then reaches out and closes the door. 'How did you know?'
'I have a friend who gets migraines, sire. He swears by these. They're some sort of herbal remedy.'
'I see.' He looks like he doesn't see at all, holding the box as if he's not quite sure what to do with it. Not his usual poised-for-public-viewing self. He's changed too, into what's probably the hotel bathrobe, soft-looking and snowy-white.
'Ah.' He says it awkwardly. 'Thank you. Won't you come in?'
As soon as he's said it – it was just an automatic piece of politeness Wufei guesses –he looks slightly shocked, but Wufei is in the room at that point, and when Zechs walks towards the sitting room, he finds himself following.
Zechs takes a bottle of mineral water from the mini bar and sits down, fiddling with the packaging of the pills, motioning Wufei to take the seat across from him.
He'd been in the suite that morning, of course, doing security sweeps, checking the day's schedule, never really noticing the décor. It's all shades of cream and white; plush leather sofas and a carpet that's as soft as a meadow.
In his white robe and with his pale sweep of hair, Zechs could just fade into invisibility and Wufei wonders if he ever gets any say in where he stays, if he cares, or if all the hotel suites, all the state rooms in palaces across Europe, just blend into one another.
'I would prefer,' the king says slowly, softly, 'if you didn't tell anyone about this.' He taps the little box on his knee.
Wufei nods at once, any sort of avowals or promises would just look overdone, but he wonders why it has to be a secret. Not wanting to admit to physical weakness? Not wanting to be fussed over by his sister and his staff and the royal physician? Or just wanting to have a secret, maybe?
It's awkward, after that. They've had conversations before, but they've both been fully dressed and Zechs has never once looked so at a loss as he does now, as if he genuinely has no idea how to deal with this situation.
He swallows two pills, though, and then turns the box over to read the packaging, hair falling forward to veil his face.
It's shorter than he used to wear it, during the war, just long enough now to sweep past his collar.
It's damnably awkward. He's been well-versed in royal protocol over the past two years – almost two years; not quite - knows he can't leave until Zechs dismisses him, and Zechs has apparently forgotten his existence. According to royal protocol, one shouldn't stare at a king, and that's exactly what he's been doing. He looks away, looking the painting on the wall opposite, which is all splashes of white on a white background.
Antarctica, he thinks suddenly, and wonders if Zechs thinks that too.
Zechs has torn a strip from the little cardboard box and is methodically ripping it to shreds, raining down on his feet. It's something Quatre does when he's stressed – making paper spaghetti, Duo calls it – and without even thinking about it, Wufei leans over and takes the king's hand, taking the box away from him.
A most definite breach of royal protocol. Zechs' eyes widen but he leaves his fingers in Wufei's grasp, warm. He's close enough that Wufei can smell the soap he used in the shower; hear his breathing, a little quicker than usual.
After, he's never certain which of them moved first.
The kiss is unexpected and … it's not.
He knows, everyone knows, that the king is gay. Wufei is too, although so far it's only ever been an abstract concept, since he's never got around to doing anything much about it.
He's watched his four closest friends fall in love, though. He has a very little experience of his own. He knows the signs of male attraction and they've all been there.
He knows that Zechs put in a formal request to Preventers for Wufei to be included on his guard detail. He often chooses Wufei for company on long flights or drives, or sometimes for walks or rides in the palace grounds.
They haven't become friends, exactly, over the past two years, but Zechs clearly likes his company, and Wufei's thought, maybe a little more than that. He's caught the king looking at him, sometimes, obviously not realising he was being watched.
And now the kiss. Not much of a kiss; just an achingly soft brush of his mouth against Wufei's.
It's all been leading up to this, really.
He's looking at Wufei, a little quizzically, head canted slightly to one side.
'Forgive me?' He's not smiling, exactly, but one corner of his mouth is definitely quirked upwards. For Zechs, that's practically a radiant beam of joy.
'Oh. Nothing to forgive,' Wufei murmurs, squeezing the pale fingers in his. 'Will you – may I - please?'
'Of course.' There's a definite glint in those blue eyes now, teasing. He lifts their joined hands, turns them over, drops a kiss in the precise centre of Wufei's palm. 'Yes?'
'Yes!' Wufei hisses it and this time he's inarguably the one who makes the first move. Not to kiss, but to do something he's wanted to for the longest time imaginable; to slide his free hand through the pale gold silk of the king's hair, to feel it drift over his fingers.
Zechs leans into the touch, cat-like, eyes closed, and Wufei wonders how long it's been since anyone touched him, since he let anyone so close. He strokes, down and down, and then rests his hand lightly on the back of the king's neck, soft pale hair lying against his fingers.
There is a small, annoying voice in his head, nagging that this is a very, very bad idea. It's easy to ignore, though, with the King of Sanque all but purring at his touch.
Zechs is pliant under his hand; Wufei just needs to put a tiny bit of pressure into it to make him lean forward, to bring him closer. Then someone knocks and the outer door opens.
'Damnation!' Zechs jerks upright. Wufei has his gun out as the door opens and then he realises Zechs is laughing.
'I ordered room service.'
Of course. Gods. How stupid. He knows that; he'd been there when one of Zechs' assistants had phoned the hotel kitchens. There are armed guards at the door; men who would give their lives for the king in an instant. Of course, there's no danger.
Zechs pulls him back down and darts to press a quick kiss to Wufei's cheek as the outer door closes again. 'Very fast reaction, Captain Chang. I'm impressed.'
The look in his eye – teasing, affectionate, fond – steals Wufei's breath, and then he's jumping to his feet as two liveried waiters wheel in a serving trolley, preceded by an older man in a chef's uniform..
He's way out of his depth here and well aware of it.
He studies the carpet as the food is laid out, as the chef explains the dishes he has prepared specially, and as Zechs says graceful, polite things in return.
He bows his way out of the room, and it's the two of them again, with enough food for a dinner party. Then Zechs twists around in his chair.
'Please, stay. They always send ridiculous amounts of food. I can never eat half of it.'
It could, Wufei rationalises, be seen as some sort of royal command. It's not, though. Just a man inviting another man to share a meal. He takes the seat opposite Zechs and then remembers he's supposed to wait for Zechs to ask him to sit. It's protocol. It's all rather irrelevant now.
So far out of his depth, he can't feel the ground under his feet, can't even see land anymore. Just the blue of Zechs' eyes, watching him, as he fiddles with the cutlery before him.
This is Zechs, then, at a loss, and Wufei knows exactly how that feels.
He knows Zechs a little, well enough to know his life is governed by honour and duty and the crushing weight of family expectations and the need to atone. They're alike. Zechs has to be aware of the vast gulf between them; a crowned monarch and his bodyguard. He'll be very careful not to make Wufei in any way feel pressured into doing anything.
Wufei will have to be the one to initiate – whatever happens. Whatever is going to happen.
And something is, and they both know it.
Zechs serves them both, waving off Wufei's offer to help with a smile, and he thinks it's deliberate; a way to show that he's disregarding his rank at this precise moment in time. There's some kind of baked pasta dish with blue cheese and bacon, and chicken stew with dumplings, and pancakes filled with minced pork.
All traditional Sanque dishes; the sort of food Zechs is supposed to like but doesn't really.
He lets Zechs load their plates with food, and takes a couple of mouthfuls, food he doesn't want in the least, while Zechs watches him.
Everything's going to change, after this; so many possibilities hovering in the air around them. This is the last minute, Wufei thinks, the last time that everything is normal.
He lays the cutlery – heavy, ornate silver - very carefully, on the table, and looks up, and stretches one hand across the table, and that's it.
'So, what exactly?' Duo's eyes, sceptical, met his. 'You're in love with him all of a sudden? You hardly know him!'
'I've worked for him for nearly two years,' Wufei said quietly.
Duo snorted. 'Don't give me that. I've filled in on a couple of shifts at the palace. You'd get more warmth out of one of those statues they have in the garden. I get that you've had a thing for him for a while but seriously, you hardly know him.'
Wufei shook his head. 'I've spent time with him.'
'Is it just the sex?' Duo asked suddenly. ''Cause I get you don't have tonnes of experience and he's hot, and I'm sure he made it good for you, but ..'
'It isn't just the sex,' Wufei told him at once. The sex had been – miraculous – at the time, but that wasn't it. He'd been attracted for so long before.
It was so many other things. Zechs' expression, in those occasional, unguarded moments when he wasn't hiding. His smile. Hikes and rides in the wooded grounds around the palace, with Zechs talking about his dreams for his country, his people. Long journeys by train or plane, with the two of them chatting about small things. Breathless moments of connection. Watching Zechs crouch down to talk to a child, or the sheer respect he shows to the older people he meets, people who may have met his parents. Intelligence and humour and passion that's kept so ruthlessly banked down.
'It's ….everything,' he said finally, and something made Duo's expression soften, just a little.
'Holy shit. Right then,' he said briskly. 'We just need to sort it out. You know, this would be so much easier if you two hadn't just jumped each other when you were on duty. You could've picked a slightly less awkward time.'
Wufei lifted an eyebrow at him. 'Oh? During a war, for example?' He regretted it the minute he'd said it. They'd got together during the war, yes, but it hadn't lasted. There'd been a spectacular break-up – a war in itself, really – after which Duo had stormed off (he'd claimed) to have sex with every man in the universe who wasn't Heero, and Heero had spent a year withdrawing further and further into himself.
Even though they'd found each other again, finally, it still wasn't really something they talked about.
Heero actually laughed, though, reaching behind Wufei to pull his partner's braid. 'He's got you there.'
'Yeah, OK,' Duo grumbled. 'Whatever.' The next thing he planned to say was cut off by a ringtone; the piece of Quatre's favourite classical music. 'Well, that took him long enough,' Duo said, taking his phone out of his pocket. 'Tro must've been distracting him. Hey, Quat. How's it going? Yeah, we've got him. OK, I think. Better, now we've poured half a bottle of brandy into him.'
He raised both eyebrows at Wufei, who shook his head. He loved Quatre, he really did, and he would call him, soon, but right now he wasn't sure if he could cope with Quat's overflowing sympathy, the overweening certainty that he could fix everything. This was really for him and Zechs to sort out – Friday - and the rest of the world would just have to cope.
'No, Quat, listen, I'll get him to call you back, OK? Yeah, soon. Really soon. Yes, I pinky swear. 'Fei knows that, I'm sure but maybe it's a little bit extreme, right now. Yeah, totally. We'll have to see how it goes. No, it's not that he doesn't want to talk to you, honest. He's just… kind of in shock. Not talking much at all. I'm sure he'd love to see you. OK, right. We'll see you then. Tell Tro we said hi.'
He dialled off, grinning. 'They'll be here tomorrow. Quat was yelling at Rashid to have the shuttle ready when I hung up.' He gave Wufei a poke. 'I'm looking forward to you trying all that nothing happened shit on him. You'll hold out two minutes, tops. And he'll want details, I'm warning you now. Been there, done that. Right.' He jumped up. 'I'll get you some more tea. Could you eat something? Something light?'
'Just some tea,' Wufei said dumbly. Damn. Now, he'd have Quatre to deal with as well. He just wanted to find a cave somewhere and hide from all of them for about three decades. He'd be ready to face the world after that. 'No more brandy, please.'
'Are you all right?' Heero asked quietly, when it was just the two of them, and the light throaty purr of the cat.
'I don't really know. I think I will be. I wish you'd all stop treating me like some fragile blossom. I'm not an idiot; I'm perfectly capable of sorting out my own life.'
Heero surprised him by laughing. 'You can't actually talk, you know. Remember Robert Brandon?'
'Who?'
Another laugh. 'Quatre dated him for a while. English politician. You and Trowa practically stalked the man for weeks; you were convinced there was something wrong with him.'
Wufei sniffed. 'And we were perfectly right. He was taking bribes from a major corporation.'
'And you don't think Quat would have found that out for himself, eventually, and dealt with it? You do realise you helped me run background checks on anyone Duo was ever with? When Trowa broke up with that vet at the circus, I remember you and Duo flew to L3 the minute you heard. I know perfectly well what you all did to get Duo and me to start talking again. Did you think we're all idiots, incapable of sorting out our own lives?'
'Not exactly,' Wufei hedged. (When it came to Duo and Heero, that was just what he did think, but it was probably wiser not to say it. Actually, the same for Quatre and Trowa; they'd been quite clearly made for each other, but it had taken them three years to work it out.) Idiots, really. 'I just….'
'Precisely,' Heero said firmly. 'And now we just. This is what we do, 'Fei. We meddle in each others' lives and it's never going to stop. Zechs is just going to have to get used to that.'
'Oh.' It was the first time it had been said; the first assumption that he and Zechs were – something. There'd been whispers and sighs at midnight, between the two of them, and a date planned – Friday – and then the palace staff tying themselves in knots to work out exactly what was going on between their king and his bodyguard. But this was another person, a friend, casually and calmly implying the two of them were a couple.
It was breath-taking and terrifying and it opened up a whole new world.
'What do you think of all this?' he asked finally.
Heero's head bent over the cat, rubbing her ears. 'He's a good man. He has done terrible things, but he is trying so hard to atone for them. That's all anyone can do.' That, for Heero, was shatteringly personal. 'The situation is…not ideal, though, is it?'
Wufei laughed at the dry understatement. Ridiculous. None of this was remotely funny. 'No. It … it wasn't meant to be like this.'
'But it's happened.' Heero, who had fallen in love during a war, lifted his head, eyes dark and direct under the untameable hair. 'What's your position, regarding Preventers?'
'Dismissal, obviously.' He would have to go and take the uniform off, sometime soon. Borrow something from his friends. 'It's not unreasonable. It could have been a lot worse. I think there was some pressure from the palace not to press disciplinary charges. They were desperate not to do anything that might give any hint of a scandal.' More of a scandal. 'Officially, I'm being allowed to resign.' He shrugged, working his fingers through the cat's soft fur.
Seven years spent building up his career. He'd been on the fast track for promotion, Une's protégé. He'd heard his name mentioned as a possible commander, one day. It was partly why he'd accepted the post at the palace. High profile, answering only to Une herself, constantly mixing with royalty and officials.
All gone now.
'Don't you care at all?' Heero sounded genuinely curious.
'I haven't thought about it, not really. And the last two years, it's all been about him, anyway. Not Preventers. If you had to choose, would you choose your job or Duo?'
'Duo.' He said it without hesitation. 'No choice whatsoever. What does he – Zechs – say about all of this?'
'I don't know. I haven't talked to him.'
'He doesn't know about it?'
Wufei lifted his chin. 'It's my problem. I …was the one who instigated it all.'
It had been his first reaction, actually; to want to call Zechs and tell him what was going on. Just an excuse to hear Zechs' voice, really. Quite shameful. Chang Wufei was more than capable of dealing with problems of his own making.
'Bullshit!' Duo stalked into the room, slapping the tea-tray down in front of the couch. 'I bet he didn't exactly fight you off. It's as much his fault as yours.'
'Don't say it like that, like it was something wrong!' Wufei yelled suddenly. 'You weren't there, Duo; you don't know what it was like. It was something we both wanted and…and stop grinning at me like a pair of village idiots, the two of you!'
'Aw, but it's so cute!' Duo ruffled his hair. 'We always knew there was passion somewhere in our little dragon. Just didn't know that it'd take the Lighting Count to bloody find it. Now, why don't you tell us what exactly it was like, 'cause I think maybe you've been holding out on us a little bit, about your feelings for him.'
Wufei took a deep breath. He was doing this, making it all real. 'I have been attracted for a long time,' he said slowly. 'At first, it was just that…he is very handsome.'
'Oh, yeah,' Duo enthused, and got his hair pulled again. Hard, if the wince was anything to go by.
'I suppose I started to know him, after a while. We spent a lot of time together. At first, I thought I was imagining it, that there was maybe something there. I don't know very much about all this. You know that. What happened last night, it was stupid, yes, but gods, something needed to happen. He is not…not someone who allows himself very much. I think Heero understands that. I'm not sure if he would ever have made the first move.' There was an odd catch in his voice, suddenly. 'I wanted, I really wanted, what happened.'
'The thing that didn't happen?' Duo was smiling slightly.
'I suppose.' He shifted on the couch, putting his mug back on the table, and trying not to wince too visibly in front of the others.
'First time's a pain in the ass, huh?' Duo's teased.
Wufei nodded; there wasn't really that much point in trying to hide at this point. 'Would you mind if I used your bathroom? And borrowed something else to wear?'
'Sure.' Duo took him upstairs; Wufei sat on their bed while he rummaged through the wardrobe.
'It gets easier,' he said, voice slightly muffled by racks of clothes. 'After the first time. There's special lube and stuff you can get, for beginners. And, you know, toys and that, for stretching. You can order them all on line. You really do need to be careful at the start or you can hurt yourself pretty bad. I can send you the links if you want.'
'Thank you.' Duo was being practical about all of this; he could be too. He wasn't the first person in the world to have sex; it was only sensible to listen to advice. If he didn't die of mortification first from Duo's Gay Sex Guide for Inexperienced Dummies lecture. 'I would appreciate that.'
'Yeah.' Duo backed out, and threw an armful of clothes on the bed. 'Honestly, it does get way better. Remember when you were learning to fly Shenlong? Hurt like damnation at first, right? And then you got used to it and it was the best thing in the freaking universe? It's like that. Oh, just for the record, don't let Quat take you anywhere near a sex shop. Seriously. You don't want to know.'
'I don't think I do, no. Duo, thank you. For everything.'
'Whatevs. You really have it bad for him, huh?'
'Very bad, actually. I want you to meet him, properly. And I'd rather you didn't shoot him on sight.'
'I won't. But, God, 'Fei, you should've seen yourself when we left Preventers. You were in serious shock. I just wanted to put a bullet through him, for making you feel like that.'
'I know.' He shuddered at the memory. 'But that wasn't because of Zechs. It was everything else. Une.'
'Yeah, I get it.' He grinned suddenly. 'You do get that your boyfriend is going to totally chew her up when he hears what's going on?'
'He's not my boyfriend. He's..' He had no idea. They hadn't had time to talk about any of that.
'Well, whatever he is, I'd bet serious money that he's the protective type. He's gonna go apeshit. Wish I could be there to see it,' he added longingly.
Wufei shook his head. 'He's not like that.' It was a nice enough little fantasy, but Zechs wasn't the sort to go apeshit, as Duo put it. Even when he was reprimanding people, he did it with devastating courtesy and a vague air of ennui. 'Anyway, I don't need anyone being protective. I'm quite capable of looking after myself.'
'So not the point, man,' Duo argued. 'I'm more than capable of looking after myself, but it doesn't mean I don't love having my own steel-bending Yuy force-field to watch my back, same as he gets to have me as his personal security blanket. Seriously, 'Fei, if this is going to work with Zechs, you both need to figure out what you need, and what you're prepared to give and take. And I know damn well what I'm talking about here; it's why 'Ro and me screwed up royally the first time. You should call him, you know. It's not like he won't hear it from some flunky or whatever. Probably better if he hears it from you.'
He had thought about it. 'It's just.. I'd rather talk to him in person.' He gave Duo a shy smile. 'We have a date. On Friday. He asked me to dinner.' It felt good, to be able to say it aloud.
Duo grabbed him in a fierce hug. 'You're so freaking adorable; I hope he gets how damn lucky he is. Don't worry too much, 'Fei. Your new squeeze has his own country, right? I think he'll work things out. Listen, you go take a shower and I'll make something for us to eat, OK?'
'OK,' Wufei echoed obediently.
He waited for Duo to close the door on his way out, and then stood. Damn. It did hurt; he was going to have to invest in…mission supplies. At least he could do it on the internet, more or less anonymously. That was good.
He undressed slowly, taking off his Preventers uniform for the last time. It should have meant something, but all he could remember was Zechs undressing him the previous night, fumbling with the one jacket button that always snagged. Zechs' fingers on his belt buckle, working it loose, then slipping each shirt button undone, and his mouth, hot, on each inch of newly bared skin.
Oh, gods.
Friday.
They'd sort it out then.