Title: Darkness
Author: ELLE
Pairings/Warnings: 5x6, mentioned past 13x6, 3x5, 1x5, and 13xU, sexually explicit situations, explicit language, angst, mostly retrospection, started this a long ass time ago and just decided to finish it up. Much thanks to Miss M for the beta! 3
Welcome to the inner workings of my mind
So dark and foul I can't disguise
Nights like this I become afraid
Of the darkness in my heart
– Ms Mr, "Hurricane"
The room was silent. Aside from the rustle of sheets and occasional groan of boxsprings, a passerby would've assumed it was totally unoccupied – until they tried the handle. But other than the fact that the door was locked, no one would've suspected the true nature of its inhabitants' recreation.
To some degree Zechs lamented this. Though he didn't regret it, exactly, he still questioned what he was doing for the hundredth time as he lay on his back, pale hair spilling across the flimsy mattress of one of the many on-call room cots, spread legged, completely open and exposed and even despite the familiar vulnerability it was still nothing like it had been with him.
They always did it in the dark, which made sense because Wufei was dark – dark hair, dark eyes, dark countenance, mouth set in a frown. Wufei was like a shadow that stole over him, some succubus lurking in the deep, mutated parts of his dreams come forward to claim his soul. By comparison Treize had been like golden light, bathing him in radiance, clearing the demons from his mind's eye with his overbearing presence and self-confidence and kind words and gentle kisses. Wufei could never clear the demons from him in the way that Treize was because Wufei was one of those demons – a physical manifestation of every dark horror buried in his heart. But Zechs couldn't stop.
Wufei grunted as he slid in slowly, a certain measure of respect for his partner that Zechs knew had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the person Wufei was. He wasn't an evil person – in fact quite the opposite. Wufei was smart, cunning, self-sufficient, the best agent on the force and every bit the honorable man he had strove to be as a teenager. It was Zechs himself who morphed him into this darkness, but it was only a reflection of his own fucked-up state of mind. At least he was able to admit it.
He honestly didn't understand why Wufei even indulged him this. At some point he figured it must have just been pure lust. Wufei didn't date, at least not that Zechs was aware of, not for a few years anyway. Not since Trowa, who left him for the circus after his stress-induced breakdown. Not since Heero, who left him when Duo pulled himself off undercovers. They'd had a civil ceremony a few months ago, Zechs remembered now. He wondered how Wufei felt about that, being abandoned for someone else. But looking up into his eyes, difficult to find in the blackness of the room, he knew he'd never ask.
Treize had intended to marry Une at one point. And Zechs remembered how he'd told him – the smell of roses still enough to turn his stomach after that day. His private room was full of them, as usual, but he was holding a little velvet box in his hand that no doubt hid a ring magnificent enough to be worn by a queen, his voice unwavering – but then Treize couldn't look him in the eyes, either. In that way, at least, Wufei understood. A reflection of his own heart, indeed.
For a moment Wufei paused. They rarely ever looked each other in the eyes. Zechs felt like apologizing but he bit it back. There was no reason to. Normal people who engaged in sexual activity looked at one another, caressed and touched and kissed. Sure Zechs hadn't had a lot of normal in his life, but he knew that much. Treize had –
But he wasn't with Treize and he looked away again, staring at the cot next to theirs, wondering if other agents fucked there – coming back from the heat of a mission, their lives having been in danger, adrenaline pumping, just so damn thankful to be alive. He remembered Treize like that, his fingers burning against his flesh as he surrendered to every touch, let himself fall into his gigantic four-poster canopy bed and his soft, supple, capable hands after any particularly challenging mission.
With Wufei it was never like that. It was always planned, mutually agreed upon, maybe just a look but then by this point they both knew what it meant. And they never touched more than they had to, never stroked or kissed. It was fucked up – being fucked by the man who killed the man he loved. It didn't mean anything, didn't prove anything – other than how fucked in the head Zechs was. But then there was the shadow of Treize there still, hidden in the darkness of Wufei.
Zechs was never the noble Treize wanted him to be. There was a reason he disowned his name, gave up his heritage, let his baby sister claim the throne. It wasn't for him, it wasn't who he was. He was just a base creature, a soldier who loved the feel of blood on his hands, who sought conflict and secretly resented peace. Treize and Wufei weren't like that and maybe that was part of it. Wufei possessed the same nobility Treize did – the last of his line, the regal stance, the expectation evident in each movement, the drive for perfection. Everything he did was for the greater good. Shit, killing Treize had been for the greater good, hadn't it? They both had known it – Zechs was the only one who couldn't admit it. He had never been that selfless.
Wufei tucked his chin to his chest, eyes focused downward – watching Zechs' abs clench, watching pre-cum drip onto the soft hair leading from his bellybutton to his crotch, watching his exhales grow breathy. And he watched Wufei watching him, wondering if he was imagining someone else. Zechs wouldn't have blamed him. After all, had he been able to he would've imagined Treize but he learned a long time ago it would never work. Treize was just too different. All of his power came from his hips and he held Zechs close, drew him into his lap, rocking his hips up into him as his lips met his collarbone, his neck, burying his face in his flesh and his hair. Wufei was more grounded, with less flourish and no romance, his power coming from his thighs and he gripped Zechs' hips as he fucked him, drawing in and out with a steady, dedicated rhythm.
It wasn't the same but it was enough and he closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Wufei's dick in his ass, concentrating on points in time years away from that moment that he clung to like fading photographs, embellishing the contrast, trying to remember just what they looked like as time wore them down.
A whimper escaped his lips as he tried not to moan and he remembered how Trieze would chuckle at how vocal he was, sweeping the hair over his shoulder so he could lay his head against his throat and feel the vibration of it. He could feel the weight of Wufei's glare however – had to be silent, couldn't let anyone know what happened between them behind closed doors. It would risk their standing with Preventer.
That, anyway, Zechs knew well. Hiding. Image. Vanity. He hated it nearly as much as he resented it. It wasn't exactly that Zechs wanted to be loved – or well, he did, really he did, but he'd come to accept that maybe that wasn't something possible for him and made peace with that – but he still wanted someone to care enough about him that they'd take a little social flak for him. Treize sure as shit never did.
But he pushed the feeling aside. Wufei was right. Fuckbuddies didn't need to be public. For a man who embraced hiding so thoroughly he changed his name and wore a mask for over a year, he was being particularly pathetic.
Zechs forced himself back to the present – fisting his dick as he focused on the smack of Wufei's thighs against his hips, the unsteadiness of his breath and the little grunt he made with each thrust.
Was it worth it?
He came quickly, biting his lower lip hard to compress the moan that came so naturally to him, the moan that Wufei would never accept. Wufei just sighed and shuddered as he came a few moments later, panting over Zechs' body, hands slick from sweat and sliding against Zechs' legs as he loosened his grip on them.
Wufei didn't stand still long, pulling out and slipping off the condom with practiced ease. Zechs watched him move through half-closed eyes as he pulled his pants back up around his hips, tucking his shirt in, zipping them up. With those long, delicate fingers of his he swiped a few tissues from a box on a supply table against the wall, offering them to Zechs between two fingers.
Zechs accepted without a word, wiping at his stomach, feeling nothing but disgust with himself. There was nothing here, nothing between them. He should say something, something to stop it, something that would keep Wufei from coming back. Take a page out of Treize's book. Not like he'd be breaking Wufei's heart.
But as he sat up, Zechs realized Wufei was still there, standing next to him. He looked up at him – older now, no longer that smooth facade of a teenage boy, lines under his eyes and a hard set to his jaw – and for once, Wufei looked back. And Zechs felt more vulnerable than he had in years.
When Wufei reached out and brushed the hair from his face, reaching around his neck to pull the majority of it over his shoulder, studying the way he looked like that. And there was something there, this time, something Zechs had never seen before – or maybe something he'd missed trapped inside the darkness of his mind, casting unfair shadows across Wufei. Something like tenderness. Something like caring.
Wufei didn't say anything – it wasn't like him, he wasn't able to – but in the moment when their eyes met, Zechs understood. Too many times he'd jumped the gun, too many times his lovers had split and run. Maybe they weren't dead, but... The damage was done.
He didn't reach back then, didn't know how. But as he watched Wufei turn and go he thought he could hold out a little longer, hold on to this non-thing a little longer – for both of them.
