Lighting Arc Side Stories – MOSCOW EVENINGS
Fandom: GW
Pairing: Zechs and Treize
Warnings:
Rating: M/NC-15 because of male-male affection and mild references to intimacies. Nothing explicit.
Disclaimer: My fanfiction is not for profit. None of the anime/manga characters belong to me.
Summary: Zechs has learned that Treize intends not just to fight back the colonies, but to conquer and subdue them for good, in order to establish a union of states under one single governing body. Cinq is to become one of them, an armed state, part of Earth's defensive belt, and Zechs is trying to square the circle...
xxx
An unexpected lull between endless crisis meetings at Treize's headquarters. He had withdrawn to the fancy suite of rooms where he was officially billeted. A cup of coffee was cooling by the single red telephone on his empty desk – his real work took place elsewhere, in the bowels of the bunker, in a small office with cot that had been deemed safe enough for him.
But here…
He was playing. Perched uncomfortably on the piano bench that had room for two, one knee almost touching the carpeted floor, his body half-turned away, only one hand idly wandering over the keys…
Ready to jump up and return to his work.
Zechs, leaning hipshot against the door to the salon of Treize's suite, was watching his friend. A faint smile lay on Treize's lips, and his eyes were downcast, shadowed by copper lashes and the usual couple of bangs that would never stay in place, however much pomade or gel he slathered on.
How does he manage to look relaxed and alert at the same time? As if he never slept…
"Won't you join me?" Treize broke the odd pause. He did not look up, and his tone was quiet.
Zechs folded his arms. "I like listening. It's been ages…"
Another few bars, simple notes, a plain, clear tune… a Russian song Treize loved.
Moscow evenings... how far away is that now?
Treize's hand rested on the ivory keys. "Yes… we should make more time for such things. The last time you played…"
Zechs swallowed hard. "At the school. At our Victoria base."
Surrounded by bodies, and suffocating on the stink of death in the smoke-filled air.
"I had to drag you out of that scorched ruin. Away from all that stench and blood." Treize appeared to focus intently on the keys. "You seemed… so terribly out of place there."
Zechs drew a quick, deep breath. "You though…"
You were just perfect. As always. And it hit me back then how very much you looked right, in that place, in your combat gear, a handful of men with guns in tow…
This caught Treize by surprise. He glanced up, blue eyes questioning, searching Zechs' blue-grey gaze.
"What's the point," Zechs murmured, resignation weighting his voice, "of creating such perfection only to throw it to the wolves…"
Treize was still playing, softly, his gaze sliding back to the keys, but Zechs would have held any wager that those sharp, unreadable eyes were now focused inwards. "What are you talking about, Miliusha moy?"
"You. I'm talking about you."
What else? Who else? My entire life is about you, always you…
Treize drew up his shoulders – a barely noticeable motion, but it made him look tense and somewhat withdrawn. "I am far from perfect. I am flawed… very much flawed. I'd hoped…"
Just like that, thought Zechs, you have the knack of creating distance so easily, with a shrug of your shoulders this goddamn wall goes up between us… "The world believes you're invincible."
A soft snort. "And you, Miliusha? What do you believe?"
"I love you," Zechs said hastily, crossing the room with a few long steps to crouch by Treize's side, leaning his face against his friend's elbow. "To me, you'll always be perfect."
And look, you brought me to heel, I'm kneeling before you, ready to kiss your feet… or whatever else you let me kiss.
The tune broke, and Treize bent to cup Zechs' face, kissing him firmly on the lips. "Don't. Don't do this to me. Do not idolise me. I want… I need… someone to remember-" Somewhere to be himself. Somewhere to leave his public persona behind – a mask as pressing and hard as Zechs' steelbucket, if more subtle.
But I need your perfection. I must have this… flawless, undaunted, undented…
Treize fell silent, and for a few heartbeats they stared at one another – Zechs' eyes widening, Treize breathless and paler than usual. "There," he said at last, laying another kiss onto Zechs' forehead, before letting go of him. "I love you. That is all there is to it. Simple."
"But it's not-" Zechs broke off, resting his brow on Treize's thigh, his hand sliding up Treize's booted leg to rest on his knee. Fingers clutching hard, clawing into soft white wool and firm muscle. There would be marks, bloodshot bruises, helpless and possessive.
Not enough. I need more, all of you, perfect, unshakeable, forever ahead of me... don't let me outrun yo; I need you to make me feel my limits…
A small pause, then Treize carefully closed the piano. His face reflected faintly in the black laquer as he asked, "And why would that be, my friend?" A quick, harsh breath. "Where did I go wrong, Milliardo?"
"You lied to me." Zechs' voice was low, but the bitterness that suddenly flooded it was overwhelming. "You lied."
And you let me pass by… I thought you infallible, but beneath all that glamour and scheming, beneath all your power, you are not invincible. You are not what I thought… hoped you were…
Treize bit his lip. "And what would you have done with the truth?"
"I…"
I don't know. I can't tell, but I know that I am falling now… spinning into this terrible void your lack of perfection has ripped into my dreams, and you are not capable of keeping me.
Treize turned to face him, eyes cool and watchful, expression closed. "Is not this between you and me alone?"
With great power comes great responsibility… your words, your mantra. It was no longer between you and me from the day you decided to draw me into your plans.
"Between me and Earth."
You were irresponsible yielding so much power to me… I've grown strong, haven't I? Stronger than you, perhaps? I need to know… I must find out… be certain for once of myself…
"Then," Treize slowly combed his hand through long silver tresses, "you would have to fight me, my friend. I am Earth's first soldier."
"Treize…"
And now you drop me altogether.
"Say, Milliardo, would you kill me?" Treize's fingers trailed down a smooth temple, a sharp cheekbone, a still rounded cheek.
I hate you for this. For asking this, for putting me here, with all that power in my hands and my heart in yours…
Zechs' gaze slipped past Treize and grew oddly vacant. "I love you," he said. It sounded rough, troubled.
No, I'm not strong. I'm feeble and crying inside, like the little boy I was when my world vanished in smoke and flames… now I will make everything vanish. Earth and war and love and you.
You. There's only one way I can rip you from my soul…
And Treize pulled him up and close, his lips touching silver hair, his breath stirring those thick blond strands as he murmured, "Then all will be well, my friend."
You promised
And I believed.
xxx
The End
