Chapter Two
Late September AC 190: Lake Victoria Military AcademyA distinctive fragrance caught at Treize's senses as he was occupied reading in the staff lounge later that evening, drawing his attention from the book he was holding. Cool cloth brushed against his skin as willowy arms twined around his shoulders from behind, and he smiled to himself as he dropped his head back against the top of his chair, catching smooth-skinned hands under one of his own against his chest. "Hello, Liliya," he murmured.
Major Valadin returned his smile. "Hello, darling," she purred, her voice warm and low. "You look terrible."
"I don't doubt it. I didn't get much sleep last night."
"Oh?" The warm fingers playing with the fastenings of his coat were withdrawn and a moment later a slender, uniform-clad woman settled herself onto the arm of his chair. Treize looked up at her, glancing over the familiar figure of Zechs's 'Vlad the Impaler' with an appreciative eye.
Almost ten years Treize's senior in age, one step his senior in rank, the Academy's Covert Operations Instructor matched no-one's definition of pretty. To her students, a harsh manner, sharp facial features and scraped-back black hair made her seem utterly unapproachable, but Treize found her rather attractive. It helped, of course, that he had seen her out of her severely tailored uniform and with that midnight-hued hair free about her shoulders, but, in truth, it was her air of confidence and competence, her fierce intelligence and razor-sharp wit that he found most alluring. That she was pure-blooded Russian aristocracy, fluent in his native language and possessed of the accent to prove it, only helped her charms in his opinion. The lilting roll of her words, even when she spoke in other languages, was frequently a balm to his acute hearing.
"Do I dare to ask what you were doing to keep you from sleep all night, darling?" she teased.
Rolling his eyes, Treize responded in their shared tongue. "Nothing so fun, Lilishka. I was nurse-maiding cadets."
"Ah. I thought Luca Noin and Otto Maxillian looked a touch on the green side in my class this morning – and your little Marquise was missing altogether. What happened?"
Treize sighed and closed his eyes. "It turns out it was Noin's birthday yesterday, so she and a group of her friends took off to the city. They didn't turn in again until gone two, and then every one of them was rolling drunk. Zechs was stupid enough to stand up to me when I reamed them, so I hauled him back to my rooms to argue it out with him, and then spent the rest of the night looking after him when the alcohol made him sick."
"Oh, poor Treize. Your protégé has finally discovered adolescent rebellion, has he? I trust you made him suffer for the privilege?"
Treize shook his head. "I haven't had to. He's spent most of today counting the cost of his actions in the bottom of a bucket."
"Oh, even better. That should lend him some sense for next time then."
Treize nodded his agreement, but cringed internally. For all that he believed, as the major did, that the first hang-over was usually the best lesson they could offer their trainees in respecting strong liquor, he wasn't sure that was so in this case.
Zechs had managed to sleep curled against Treize for almost an hour before he had woken violently, gagging as his body fought to be rid of the unfamiliar alcohol he had drunk. Kneeling on the carpet by the couch, half supported by his teacher, the boy had retched into the bucket Treize had known he would need until there was nothing left in him and he was shaking with the strain.
The older man had spoken to him with a mix of sympathy and reproval as the blinding headache kicked in and left Zechs flinching from even the dimmest light, but by the time Treize returned from dealing with his classmates the younger man seemed so ill that the instructor was genuinely worried. Grateful for the fact that he had no morning classes to teach, Treize had sat with Zechs until lunchtime, when the boy had fallen into an exhausted, fretful sleep a few minutes before the older man had to leave him alone.
Determined that he was calling for medical support if Zechs was no better when he returned to his rooms in the late afternoon, Treize had been relieved to see him sitting up and reading a borrowed book, albeit still looking rather woebegone. The older man had spoken with him briefly and then sent him back to barracks, but those few sentences had been almost enough to convince him that Zechs didn't care how ill he'd been.
Soft fingers brushed against his face, drawing his attention from his musing.
"Treize, darling, you look positively worn out. Whatever is the matter?"
He opened his eyes, and smiled at his companion. "Nothing much. I'm worried about Zechs, that's all. I've never seen him so ill, but it doesn't seem to have convinced him drinking is a bad idea."
Liliya smiled. "You borrow trouble, darling. He'll learn eventually – they all do. Still, better alcohol than sex, I think. That one will truly be dangerous when he learns the rules of that game."
Genuine amusement sparked in his deep eyes as Treize took advantage of the empty room to pull the lithe, long-limbed woman from his chair arm into his lap. "I'll tell him you said so. Keep your hands off him, Lils, or I won't be happy with you."
"Darling! So possessive! I can see why you'd want to break him in yourself, but I didn't think you went that way?"
Treize glared at her. "I don't. Even if I did, I wouldn't touch him like that, and I don't want you to, either. Leave him alone."
Raising an eyebrow, the major pulled the chopsticks holding her hair free. "He might appreciate the lesson, you know. You did."
The look he shot at her then had broken the nerve of officers twice his age, but she simply laughed. "You needn't worry, darling. I wouldn't waste my time with him. If any woman were going to get that one, Luca Noin would have had him twelve months ago. If you're looking to keep him pure, you're looking at entirely the wrong gender."
Treize blinked. "What?"
"Didn't you know? I would have thought he'd have confessed to you by now." She shook her head, settling her hair around her in an ebony cloud. "He's as gay as they get, darling, and I imagine, by now, that he knows it – even if he hasn't done anything about it yet."
"Are you sure?" Treize asked, wondering suddenly if this was what Zechs hadn't been able to phrase the night before, when the older man had asked him if he loved Noin.
"Of which? That he has no interest in women, or that he's still a virgin?" She shrugged, curled her legs up under her and turned around gracefully until she was facing him. "Both. It's my job to know such things about people. Perhaps you should talk to him, no?"
"Perhaps I should." Treize started to sit up, catching Liliya with his hands around her narrow waist to set her on her feet.
The major used the leverage to shift her position, settling with a knee on either side of one of his legs in the chair. "Da, Treize, darling. You should talk to him. But not now." She smiled slowly. "I locked the door when I came in."
Treize raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"I thought you might appreciate a little peace and quiet," she murmured, wriggling slightly in his lap.
Treize looked at her curiously. "I do, thank you." He tilted his head as she wriggled again – tiny, rhythmical shifts of her weight against his leg. "Lils…"
"I was thinking about the curriculum for next term," she began, running her hands through her hair to draw it back from her face. She twisted it into a knot at the back of her head, holding it there for a moment before letting it drop back around her shoulders as she stretched up, arching her back. "I'm scheduled to teach the senior class practical covert… insertion… techniques," she continued.
Treize stared at her – had it been his imagination that had put the pause in that sentence? It wasn't his imagination that had her rocking herself against his leg, he was sure, nor that had her wearing the stockings he could just see under the hem of her hiked up skirt. He shifted in his seat and tugged his jacket down, trying to hide the somewhat predictable effect she was having on his body. He had no idea what she was up to – if she was up to anything at all – and even less desire to make a fool of himself by reacting like an over-eager teenager. "Oh? Where do I come into this?" he asked, forcing his voice to stay level.
He realised what he'd just said as her face bloomed into a predatory smile. "Treize, darling …" she purred, rocking as she hesitated. "I'd like you to assist me."
"Really?" Treize asked as his breath caught. "I've always thought you quite skilled at handling such things yourself."
Liliya smiled at his return sally and leaned forward, pressing one knee into him as she fiddled with his belt buckle with the polished fingers of her right hand. "I'm sure I could," she admitted, "but – as I'm sure you appreciate…" Her fingers dropped from his belt, brushing against him, "… a helping hand is always a welcome addition to proceedings."
Treize jumped as she touched him, biting his lip to suppress his gasp. She was playing with him; he was under no illusion of that now. Whether she intended to let him get anything out of it, however, or whether this was all purely for her amusement remained to be seen. It wouldn't be the first time she'd wound him up only to walk away after she'd had her fun and leave him wanting.
She chuckled low in her throat. "You seem a little breathless, darling. Are you feeling alright?" She looked at him steadily, expression showing only friendly concern. "Is there anything I can do to help, or should I leave you to your peace and quiet? This really can wait until another time…"
She made as if to stand up and walk away. Treize caught her waist in his hands and held her. "You can help!" he insisted.
Liliya stopped in place, not moving at all as she looked down at him, her head on one side. "You'll have to ask nicely, darling," she told him.
Treize shook his head, feeling the ragged edges of his self–control beginning to fray. She'd done this to him before… she always did this to him! "Lilishka, please!" he pleaded, knowing he had to play the game her way or she would get up and leave.
"Please, what?" she asked. "What do you want? You'll have to be more specific…" As she spoke, she took up rocking back and forwards again, tearing a groan from him as her knee rubbed against him.
"Oh, Christ!" he gasped. "Fuck me, Lils. Please!"
Liliya laughed at him, but it was friendly. "A man who knows what he wants," she murmured. "You always were that, darling. And you know how to ask so nicely, too." She wound her fingers into his hair and leaned forward to kiss him.
She kept it chaste to begin with, a light pressure of her mouth against his until Treize slid his hands from her waist up her spine, catching her in his arms and crushing her to him as he deepened the kiss. His tongue traced over her lower lip and she opened her mouth, giving him what he wanted. She could taste the coffee he'd been drinking to stay awake, and the subtle, clean flavour underneath it that she knew was unique to Treize.
Liliya broke their kiss when Treize began moving under her, resting back on his leg for a moment before slithering to the floor to sit on her heels at his feet. He moved to follow her, thinking she'd chosen to go for the only space they had in the room that would allow them to lie down full length, and Liliya stopped him with one fingertip in the middle of his chest.
"Stay, darling," she commanded.
Treize stared at her for a moment, wondering what the hell she was up to now, and then allowed his body to fall back into the support of the chair.
She held still for a second, trapping his gaze with hers, and then came to her knees, bending a little until she could reach out and rest one hand on him through his clothes. Treize caught his breath at the weight of her hand and the warmth of it as it seeped through the layers of fabric. The feeling granted him both relief and the surety of further frustration – the certainty of eventual release and the knowledge that she'd make him wait to get there.
He sighed as she began to move her hand, petting him slowly for a second before she leant further forwards and kissed him through his clothes. Light touches, little butterfly kisses along his length mixed with the occasional harder nip from her perfect teeth that made his eyes close as heat shot through his nerves. "Lils," he gasped, and she laughed softly, her breath warmer even than her hand had been.
She worked him like that for a minute or two, until his breathing had gone ragged with the taunting pleasure and his mounting need. At almost exactly the point where he would have shoved her back onto the floor and taken her, she pulled away and looked up at him with a smile.
"Am I cruel for teasing you like this?"
"Very!" he protested.
"Would you like me to go down on you, then, darling?" she enquired sweetly.
Treize shivered in response to her words, delivered so innocently in that accented voice. "Oh, God!" he breathed.
Liliya chuckled. "I'll take that as your agreement," she murmured.
Treize moaned, feeling her nails scrape at the skin on his stomach as she reached past the top of his trousers to free the concealed fastening. He silently thanked whatever deity was listening for a woman who'd served in the Specials and knew how to work the overly fussy details of their uniforms – there was nothing worse than having things get held up whilst his partner struggled with his clothes.
Liliya pulled the woven, white fabric of his trousers apart and away just enough that she could rest her hand on him again, much as she had at the start. He groaned - the sensations, transmitted now only through the thin layer of his underwear, were so much more intense than they had been. The fine, flexible material of his form fitting shorts allowed her to fold her hand around him and press the tips of her nails into him as she stroked him. Her touch was firm and sure, the pressure of her fingers perfect, though she was moving her hand far slower than he would have liked – deliberately so, he had no doubt. She'd done this to him before – had watched him do it to himself at her command – often enough that she knew what worked for him.
Treize felt himself beginning to sweat in his heavy jacket. He knew what she was planning to do, but if she didn't stop teasing him and get the hell on with it, it was just possible that he'd have to kill her.
Liliya let him go abruptly, lifting her hand away and glancing up at him with a scowl, almost as though she had read what he was thinking. She propped her elbow on his knee, then leaned her chin on her hand and stared down at him, clearly thinking about something. "You've presented me with a problem, darling," she murmured after the stillness had dragged on a seeming eternity. "It makes getting at you so very difficult when you dress so very… regulation."
Treize glared at her, unaccustomed and uncomfortable colour staining the pale skin of his face as he realised what she meant. "What in God's name do you expect me to wear under these damn pants?" he demanded. "Tight, white jodhpurs don't leave a great deal of choice in what goes under them, unless you intend for everyone you walk past to know what that is. What would you suggest I wear?"
She shrugged gracefully. "Anything other than uniform-issue shorts, darling. They're not flattering, even on you, and so awkward at times like this." She smiled. "You could, perhaps, try wearing nothing at all."
"I wasn't planning to be jumped by you in the staff lounge when I dressed this morning!"
"Ah, yes, but didn't I teach you to always be prepared for any eventuality?" Liliya shot him an impish look and began undoing the buttons on her uniform coat. "Never mind, darling. I have a solution." She shook off her coat, and moved her hands to the buttons of her silk blouse, tugging it from the waistband of her skirt. Treize smiled at her lacy underwear, noting that it was as far removed from regulation issue as it was possible to get.
One slender hand traced a path from the top of her skirt, up her stomach and then followed the line of her bra across her ribcage until her hand was behind her. For a moment, he thought she was going to unfasten her bra, but then her hand reappeared and he froze.
She smiled and flicked open the folding knife she'd had hooked over the back of her bra. It had fit so well into the hollow line of her spine that he hadn't been able to feel it even when he'd been holding her on his lap. "Now, Treize, darling – don't move," she instructed.
Liliya came to her knees again, leaned forward and set the knife, point first, against the fabric of his shorts. Treize went rigid, heart pounding in a moment of sheer terror as she sliced upwards.
"There," she told him, slipping the knife away and pushing back the material she had cut out of her way. "Creative thinking, no?"
"Jesus Christ, woman!"
"There, now, darling. Did I frighten you?"
Treize glared at her, eyes wide. "Frighten me?! Are you out of your mind?!"
Liliya snorted delicately. "Oh, hush, darling. I didn't hurt you." She smiled at him and took him in her hands, caressing his length hand over hand until he closed his eyes and moaned.
Nudging his knees out of her way, she moved a little closer and bent down. The thumb and first finger of her right hand slipped round the base of his erection, holding him away from his body as the other hand gently pulled the loose skin back. Soft hair fell forward, brushing his skin as she kissed the tip of him lightly, then put her tongue out and lapped at the gathering fluid like a cat.
Treize hissed as she did it again a little harder, and then again. Slowly she picked up speed, interspersing her licks with kisses and the occasional stroke of her hand until he was panting and shaking. It was a sensation he loved, but it was intense, frustrating beyond belief and, mixed with the adrenaline spike of his earlier panic, completely overwhelming. "Lils… God!"
A heartbeat before the feeling crossed the barrier between pleasure and pain, Liliya lifted her head, gave him a moment to draw a deep breath, and then laid a row of kisses down his length, lapped at the base and licked back to the top in one smooth stroke.
She paused, breathed out and swallowed him, opening her throat until she could take all of him, her mouth brushing her fingers.
Treize cried out, the shock bringing him bolt upright in the chair, sinking his fingers into the velvet covered arms. "Christ, Lils! Christ!" He collapsed back into the cushions as she pulled up, sucking at him as she did, and brought her hand back to wrap around his shaft as she focused her mouth on the head. Stroking with her hand, she twisted her wrist with each movement – a trick she knew drove him crazy – and lapped at him, curling her tongue around his tip within the seal she'd made of her lips as she bobbed gently in time with her hand.
Treize was slumped in the chair now, hands clutching the arms with desperate strength. Little, high-pitched, whimpering cries were being torn from him on the end of each panting gasp for air. Liliya picked up her rhythm, using the pitch of his moans and the way he was moving under her to judge how close he was to release, working with all her skill until her jaw began to ache.
She knew from his sudden, ragged babble in Russian – most of which would not have been repeatable in polite company – that he was on the edge of climax. His breathless moan of "Oh, God, Lilishka!" and the clumsy fingers catching at her hair were unnecessary, but she appreciated it that he was gentleman enough, even in the state she'd reduced him to, to give her warning.
She looked up at him, gazing at him through the curtain of her hair, her eyes showing a mix of her own passion and cool indifference, and Treize broke, throwing his head back against the chair as he came hard.
At the very last second, Liliya lifted her head and let his fluid spill onto the skin of her chest and the lacy material of her bra, knowing the visual treat would please him as much as it suited her own purposes. It was a rare occurrence indeed that she let any man finish in her mouth, and she almost never swallowed – Treize was one of only two men ever who could make that claim.
He moaned softly as he relaxed into the cushions, whimpering when even the gentle petting of her fingers against his softening body was too much for him. Liliya let him go completely, straightened his clothing for him and stood up to put her own to rights. The work of a few seconds saw her use a handful of tissues from the box on one of the low tables to wipe her skin clean, and redress. Within a minute or two, the use of the tiny folding hairbrush and makeup compact she kept in the pouch on her jacket belt had her restored to the perfect, icily-cool, Major Valadin her students were familiar with.
Treize was still slumped in his chair, eyes closed. Smiling gently – an expression even he wouldn't have credited her as being capable of – she made her way across the room to him and stood looking down at him for a moment before reaching out and brushing back the few strands of his hair that had fallen out of his styling in his exertions.
She could feel him trembling under her hand, though his breathing was easy now. Seeing him like this was half the reason she went to such efforts to please him. His body still reacting to the firestorm of pleasure that had torn through it, all his customary defences were down. He looked, in these stolen moments, simply what he was – a slim, handsome young man of almost twenty – and not the politically savvy model officer.
Liliya settled herself onto the arm of his chair again, waiting for him to come round from his stupor.
Treize had taken his gloves off at some point before she arrived, and the dying evening light streaming through the French windows caught suddenly on the polished metal band circling the third finger of his left hand. It was an unusual piece, completely unlike the traditional plain gold wedding ring. A tiny, star-shaped sapphire was the only ornamentation in the flat surface of a narrow band made from a brushed, silver-coloured, matt metal Liliya knew was suit-quality titanium. She shook her head – it was pretty thing that marked the only real mistake she'd ever known him make.
Liliya was one of the few members of the Specials who knew Treize was married – she wasn't even certain that all of his family knew. He'd been a member of the Academy faculty for only a few months when he'd met Leia Barton whilst shepherding a group of cadets on a training mission to the L3 colonies. Liliya hadn't been all that surprised to find out that he'd slept with the girl – Leia was rather pretty, and he was a seventeen year old under a fair amount of stress, and with no prior attachments.
Liliya had been surprised when it became apparent that Treize considered Leia more than a casual fling. It had been obvious that he felt genuine affection for her. Still, he clearly hadn't ever been expecting to hear from her again once he returned to Earth.
The arrival of Leia on Earth, and the rather distraught comm. call she had used to tell Treize of her presence had been a shock. The news she had had come to Earth to tell him had been more of one. Never in a million years had Liliya ever expected to have Treize ask her advice on what to do with an ex-girlfriend of his who'd turned up pregnant.
Liliya's advice had been succinct and to the point – marrying the girl hadn't been an option she'd given him. She'd also raised the question of how he'd been stupid enough to get Leia pregnant in the first place. The resulting, stumbled answer, complete with scarlet blushes had almost made the whole sorry scenario worth it.
Treize stirred under her hand, shifting as he settled further into the soft cushions of his chair and opened lazy eyes. Liliya stroked careless fingers through his hair, delighting in mussing the neat, glossy waves. "How's that darling little girl of yours?" she asked.
Treize smiled. "Mariemeia? Beautiful, as always. Growing. Walking, talking." The softness of Treize's expression reminded Liliya that, whatever else, he'd taken to being a father as easily as he had to piloting a mobile suit. She got to her feet, and stood looking down at him again for a moment.
Liliya had met Leia on a few occasions, including at the wedding, and had been surprised to find that she didn't instantly dislike her. The girl was quiet, pretty, well educated, somewhat politically astute, and far savvier than Treize, after almost two years of marriage, gave her credit for being. She'd been raised to be a wife to a powerful man, and she held up her end of the bargain in that respect well. If Treize had to be married at all, he could, politically speaking, have done far worse.
Unfortunately, good for Treize's career as Leia might prove to be, she was a disaster for his personal life – as the last few minutes proved. The term was less than three weeks old, Treize had spent the break at home. If Leia had been enough for him in a personal sense Liliya wouldn't have been almost able to knock him out with one hurried encounter in the staff lounge.
"I'll see you tomorrow, darling," Liliya murmured, heading for the door.
Treize sat up, looking over the back of the chair in surprise as she walked towards it. "What?"
"I'll see you tomorrow. I really do want your help with that class, so I need to discuss the details with you. Goodnight – sleep well."
"Yes… you too… uhm…"
The major smiled as she put her hand on the door handle. "Oh, and darling? You owe me," she informed him as she left the room, leaving him staring after her.