Title: Do They Know It's Christmas?
Author: Zoisite NightDragon
Archive: Fanfiction.net and Blue Roses (13x4 Shrine) All others please ask.
Warnings: None that I can think of really. Yaoi is a good probability Characters do not belong to me. If they did, I would be cruising around in my BMW with my own bishies instead of writing about them. It's the canon fic I've been promising Treize for being kind enough to play the Grinch for me.

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Quatre – Blue Christmas
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Quatre waved to the rest of the Gundam pilots as they headed off into the night. Wufei and Trowa were going for a midnight sailing on a ship the Chinese boy had somehow acquired, spending the night rocking on gentle waters. Duo and Heero were off to go play Santa at some of the orphanages and then retire to someplace Heero had picked out for Christmas Eve and morning. Shouting one last warning of being careful on the slick roads out, Quatre shivered and headed back into the safehouse.

Settling down on the couch, he let the CD of Christmas carols play on, pulling a blanket about himself as he gazed at the Christmas tree. With all the lights off, it gave the only light in the room, flashes of colour splashed along tinsel and bulbs. Beneath lay crinkles of paper and unwrapped gifts, ones from or to Quatre. The more personal ones had been kept for the couples to share with each other later tonight or tomorrow on Christmas morning. Studying them laying there, Quatre didn't begrudge them their time together, had encouraged it really. The war didn't stop for Christmas, but it didn't mean that they couldn't pretend to be normal for a few hours.

I'll have a blue Christmas without you;
I'll be so blue thinking about you.

Quatre glared at the traitorous CD player as the music spilling from it nudged his thoughts in the direction that he had been trying to avoid all night. Where was Treize tonight? Attending an OZ Christmas party? Sitting in his study and drinking some expensive liquor while reading war reports? Thinking about him too?

Decorations of red
on a green Christmas tree

It had begun simply awhile back. Even as a Gundam pilot, Quatre still had things he had to attend to as a Winner and head of his family's business. At one of these social gatherings, he had been introduced to one Treize Khushrenda, a man rising in power if rumours were to be believed. He'd found the man to be gentile, one from a long line of European nobility. What had caught him offguard was the witty and sometimes biting humour that Treize had possessed about a government few spoke against. Throughout the political speeches that night, it had been hard for Quatre to keep a straight face with Treize whispering in his ear small jokes and ironies. It had ended with the two of them returning to the elder's hotel suite and talking until dawn about anything that crossed their minds. A promise to meet again in two weeks had been made as well.

Won't mean a thing if
you're not here with me.

Before that two weeks had ended, Quatre had discovered just who Treize Khushrenda was behind his mask. Sitting here before his twinkling Christmas tree, he remembered being hurt at the time, like a child finding out there was no Santa Claus. Even with that betrayal in his heart, he couldn't call off the meeting. It wasn't just the suspicion that he was being led into a trap, but the need to see the man once more. He wanted that connection, that understand… to have something as precious as the others had to get them through the night.

I'll have a blue Christmas, that's certain;
And when that blue heartache starts hurting,

Arriving at Treize's hotel room once more, he'd put up the front of being the same young man he'd been before. The illusion was shattered the moment those dark sapphire eyes laid on his own and a hand captured his chin. Anger and hurt long pent up had been heaped on Khushrenda that night as Quatre laid the accusations on him of planning on destroying everything and everyone, including himself. Treize had simply nodded with no explanations of his deeds and informed Quatre that he was guilty of the same deception in his own manner. Never had he spoken up and informed Treize that he was a Gundam pilot. They were two mirrors of each other. After that, they had decided to leave the battle on the battlefield and only be themselves within the walls or open spaces of whatever chance place they could use to snare a few minutes together.

You'll be doing all right
with your Christmas of white…

Sighing depressedly, Quatre wound his blanket about him tighter, wishing it was Treize Khushrenda that held him in its place. Instead of Christmas music, he wanted to be lulled by the gentle melody of his lover's heartbeat, heard as he rested his head against the other's chest. Even the scent of roses and cinnamon that lingered about Treize was missed, a smell that Quatre had begun to associate with safety and love.

But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas.

Raising his gaze to the window, Quatre wondered if it was snowing in Luxembourg.

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Treize - I'll Be Home For Christmas
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Treize Khushrenda scowled to himself as he signed the last of the papers. Christmas Eve, and he was doing paperwork of all things. Downstairs, Christmas carols were being sung and the sounds of the partygoers occasionally reached his ears, but he had no wish to join in the festivities. Lady Une would be down there somewhere just waiting to pounce on him and demand a dance. The rest of the dignitaries and military officials would want to talk about how things were going with the war and when victory was expected to come. Shoving the last file to the side, Treize's eyes moved to the window, watching the snow falling outside.

I'll be home for Christmas
You can count on me

His was bitter tonight more than anything, an acidic taint to his thoughts. He couldn't even content himself with gazing at a picture of his lover because it could be found and used against him. The thought of Quatre suffering at Lady Une's hands for his love was enough to make him decide to never even keep a snapshot of him no matter how well hidden it was. The notion of having a small one in a locket or behind the face of a water had been one he toyed with for awhile, but what would happen if he were ever captured unexpectedly? Quatre would be branded a traitor to his own cause and killed or punished. All he had were those in his memory to live with tonight.

Please have snow
And mistletoe
And presents 'neath the tree

Winding his fingers together, he studied the deepening drifts of white that lay about his Estate. Was Quatre out in weather like this tonight? Shivering and cold? Perhaps sick? The rest of that thought was quickly cut off before it could lead to darker realms. There had been no word of 04 engaged in any battles within the last week. Treize could only hope that he was warm and well wherever he was in space or on Earth. A small box in one pocket pressed against his side, a plain silver necklace with a pink rose of gold on it. Nondescript was about the best way to describe it, a trinket someone could pick up almost anywhere in the galaxy. As much as Treize would have liked to given Quatre some lavish and expensive gift, he couldn't. Too many questions would be asked. It was the razor's edge on which they both walked.

Christmas eve will find me
Where the love light gleams

The worst part was that he'd never get it to Quatre for a week or more. The second week of January was the next time they had figured they could meet for a night. Even that could be ripped away if a mission came through for his lover or his presence was required to oversee some operation. Raising a hand to rest on the frosted glass of the French door of his study, Treize sighed softly. It wasn't fair, but little in life was. Tonight, he wanted nothing more than to bury his face in those locks of gold and live his life in those arms.

I'll be home for Christmas…

A soft blip of his computer brought Treize out of his thoughts. With his luck, it was probably more assignments that no one else seemed capable of taking care of, and he must see to immediately. No rest for the wicked as they say Hard eyes read quickly over the lines before a hint of a smile stained Treize's lips. His long overcoat was pulled on quickly as he depressed the button for his intercom.

If only in my dreams…

"Have my shuttle standing by. I need to make an emergency trip to L2 immediately. No crew. I need to move as fast as I can."


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Treize and Quatre – Christmas for Cowboys
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Tall in the saddle we spend Christmas Day,
Drivin' the cattle on the snow-covered plains.

Quatre was nearly asleep when he heard the distant musical notes from his laptop of email incoming. Uncurling himself from his blanket, the Arab frowned to himself, hoping it wasn't a mission. Christmas Eve wasn't a time for killing. Settling down, he studied the screen puzzledly. It wasn't his main account that all the missions and communications came through usually, but a web based one that only one other person used. Pulling it up, he read over the single line with surprise.

- Spring, Summer, Fall, and Winter – One hr –

All of the good gifts given today;
Ours is the sky and the wide open range.

A coat was gathered quickly, sliding into it without even thinking. The others wouldn't be back until tomorrow or the day after. Routing the calls to the safehouse to his cellphone was easy enough as was sending any incoming email to it. Scribbling a quick note to the others that he had gone out to see some old friends of the Winner family, Quatre snared up his keys and fairly ran for the door. Passing his room, he stopped long enough to grab up a small box he'd been keeping hidden within one of his books that he'd hollowed out.

Back in the cities, they have diff'rent ways,
Football and eggnog and Christmas parades.

The frostbitten air nipped at Quatre's skin as he sped towards the Four Seasons Hotel. Trepidation gnawed at his heart, fright for Treize as well as himself surfacing. His lover had no idea where they were, but the email had come from him to the web account. Someone might have found out about them and sent it, setting up a trap. Quatre pushed the vehicle to go faster, slowing only as it began to slide on a patch of ice. If someone had discovered Treize's secret, he was in trouble, possibly facing execution. His own safety paled in comparison to that of his lover.

I'll take the blanket; I'll take the reins;
Christmas for cowboys and wide open plains.

Stepping into the lobby, Quatre dusted some of the snow from his jacket, a sockcap covering his trademark blonde hair and keeping most of his face covered. Pausing at the desk, he gave the manager his best smile, trying for a lost expression and a small, meek voice, "I was supposed to meet a friend of mine here, but I don't see him around. His name is Lux Epyon, and I'm Michael Sandron…"

A campfire for warmth as we stop for the night;
The stars overhead are the Christmas-tree lights,

The false names rolled easily off of Quatre's tonge, ones that the two of them had used since the beginning of this dance. The Lux part he understood, taken from the country Treize hailed from. The second part was a mystery to him, perhaps meaning something to his lover. His own was merely a common first name with a warping of Sandrock. The clerk peered at him over thick glasses before sifting through different cubbyboxes behind the desk. A slim keycard was placed in his hand shortly, the clerk's attitude changed greatly from annoyance to the simpering manner of one used to making the better guests feel welcome, "My apologies, Sandron-san. Hai, Epyon-san arrived about half an hour ago and left this for you. Room 345. Do you have any bags that need carried up?"

Shaking his head in the negative, Quatre pushed the button for the elevator, feeling numb. If this was a trap, it was a damn good one.

The wind sings a hymn as we bow down to pray;
Christmas for cowboys and the wide open range.

Outside of the door laid a pink rose, their sign to each other that it was safe within. Picking up the flower carefully, shards of ice from the snow outside still clung to the stem, leaving hints of a chill along his fingers. Swallowing thickly, he slid the card into the lock, the soft click of the door opening answering him. A push opened the door, letting in a shard of light that was reflected in candles strewn about the room. A vase of roses sat on the table with a small wrapped present beside it.

Treize glanced up from the book he had been reading to pass the time. Laying it aside, a smile caressed his lips. "I thought you'd never make it."

It's tall in the saddle we spend Christmas Day,
Drivin' the cattle on the snow-covered plains.
So many gifts have been opened today;

Quatre shrugged his jacket off, still staring at the candlelit room in shock. Treize's hands sliding about his own to warm them nearly went unnoticed until lips tasting of cinnamon enveloped his own. Slender arms slid up and around Treize's shoulders, returning the kiss with all the passion of time spent away. Soft shudders slid down the OZ officer's frame as khaki clad legs slid against his own, a gentle turning of his own body tumbling the two across the room's bed.

Soft kisses and whispers of reassurance accompanied the removing of clothing, Treize worshipping each inch of newly bared skin with his lips. Short nails rasped against his back, as Quatre's body arched, head laying to the side with lips parted and wet. A flush stained the boy's cheeks as his breaths became pants, helping slide off his too restrictive clothing while tugging at Treize's own. A smirking smile was felt along Quatre's shoulder as Treize sat up to pull off the uniform he'd worn. Released from the confines of the own clothing, the two curled about each other for a time, enjoying the feel of their limbs entwined.

Fingers drifted down Quatre's spine, teasing along his bottom before stroking his inner thighs. What had been soft purrs changed steadily to muffled moans, growing louder as Treize's head dipped down. The tip of his tongue slid along the smooth skin, teasing at the depression of his navel with a heated breath in following. Tender kisses fell lower as the Arab's slender thighs parted for him, letting Treize have full access to what he desired. Rose scented oil was laid gently across his lover's flesh, a single fingertip probing gently for access before pressing on. To distract from pain, Khushrenda lightly slid his tongue against the straining erection in front of him, passing the tip between his lips. As a second finger was added, his mouth fully enveloped the rigidness, teasing each spot he knew would pull another cry from the youth. By the time a third joined the first two, he knew his lover was ready from the steadily streaming chant of his name alone.

Rising above him, a kiss was pressed to the blonde lip and a slow forward thrust began. Lifting his head, he watched with sympathy at the flicker of pain that ran through those aquamarine eyes, promising silently to wipe that hurt away in a second's time. Fully encased in that velvety heat, Treize shudder softly. How many times could they make love and him still be as tight as a virgin? Nuzzling his lips along Quatre's throat, he drew back before surging forward once more, setting a slow rocking pace.

Quatre's head was thrown back, arms wrapped around his lover's shoulder with fingers splayed out on his back. Every muscle strained as they fell into that familiar dance, meeting his thrusts with more and more force. A wracking shudder passed through the Arba's body before his nails bit down on Krushrenda's skin, a shout of his name called out.

The most erotic sound Treize had ever heard was his own name being spoken with passion by Quatre. That voice swirling in his mind along with the spasms of orgasm that wracked the body beneath his wrung a groan from him. One last jerk of his hips into that tightness, and he spilled his seed, holding to Quatre as if he were the last anchor in the world.

Ours is the sky and the wide open range,
It's Christmas for cowboys and wide open plains.

Later they laid in the pools of silk on the bed, nestled within the each other's arms. Quatre's sleepy voice piped up, "How did you know where we were?"

"Promise to keep it a secret?"

Quatre glanced up at his lover, a smile tugging at his lips even as he blushed, "Depends on if you make it worth it…"

Treize shook with laughter. An angel's look and a blush when he tried to say something risqué. "I don't know who told me it for sure since it came by email from a scambled source, but the signature read 'Santa Shinigami'."

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Across town, Duo snored against Heero, content from a night of delighting children and seeing Heero attempt to look normal in an elf suit. No one had noticed when he'd excused himself for awhile this evening, making his poor Hee-chan step in for him. The two had passed a look between them, and Duo was sure his lover knew what he had done without being told. As for the rest of them, they had all known for a few months that Quatre was seeing Treize on the sly. It had never affected his performance, nor had he ever put them in a compromising position because of it. War did strange things to people, and even the self-proclaimed God of Death wasn't going to deny someone a little happiness for Christmas.

Ours is the sky and the wide open range,
It's Christmas for cowboys and wide open plains.

The End