Disclaimer: This story was written by a fan only for the enjoyment of other fans, without any monetary compensation. Gundam Wing and its characters are registered trademarks of Bandai Entertainment Inc.™ and Sotsu Agency. All rights reserved.

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A special Thank You to Kt for beta reading.

Blood Ties

Chapter 13

"You know, you could have come upstairs," Milliardo said as he climbed into the passenger seat next to Treize Khushrenada. The other man had messaged him a few minutes earlier to let him know that he had come to pick him up for lunch. "As I told you, Wufei is out of town; won't be home until tomorrow morning. Some kind of martial arts competition "

Treize shrugged as he slipped his cell phone into his pocket.

"I had a few phone calls to make," he explained. "...business."

"Business?" the younger man echoed, and strapped himself in. "On a Sunday?"

He suddenly realized Treize never had told him what he did for a living, or much of anything else about himself for that matter.

Another shrug as Treize started the car.

"Weekends are big in the service industry," he simply said.

Milliardo didn't push the issue any further. The two men made small talk until they pulled into the parking lot across from the Kojiki Restaurant. It was well into the lunch hour, but through the large windowed front several empty tables were clearly visible. The young man couldn't help but wonder if that was a sign of things to come.

Visiting a new Shabu Shabu place could be like playing the lottery, either one hit the jackpot or one lost. He had never been to a mediocre Shabu restaurant. They always seemed to be either great or terrible. Hopefully, the Kojiki was the former rather than the later.

As they entered a tall, skinny man of Asian descent came around from behind the counter.

"Welcome back, Mister Khushrenada," he greeted the tawny haired man with a friendly smile. "Your usual table?"

"Please." Treize replied, and then at Milliardo's questioning look he shrugged. "I never said I didn't know the place. It's not that new, you know. Besides, I don't live very far from here."

They were seated at a small table by the window, and the restaurant owner adjusted the blinds to keep out the midday sun and give them some privacy while they were eating.

"Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Just water," Milliardo requested.

"Green tea," Treize added.

A few minutes later their drinks came and they made their selections, both opting for the lunch special prime cut beef plate with original broth, only Treize ordered also a side of tofu.

"You got to try it," he told Milliardo. "They have their own brand, it's delicious."

"I don't really like tofu," the young man replied. "But I'll take you word for it that it is good. So, tell me. who do you usually bring here; business associates... lady friends...boyfriends...?"

"Hate to disappoint you," Treize laughed. "But I lead a rather boring life. I usually eat by myself."

"That IS boring." Milliardo agreed.

A waitress brought two pots of broth, and turned on the heating plates in the table.

"Hot drops?" she asked.

Both men declined.

"Yesterday you mentioned your family," the blonde looked up at Treize. "Do they live locally?"

The older man shook his head. "My parents are...separated, but rather happy with that. They live in their own world you could say. How about you?"

"My parents are dead. They died in an accident, years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Treize looked a little uncomfortable, as though he regretted asking that question.

Milliardo shook his head. "It's been a long time. I can hardly even remember them. And even before they died I had been spending more time in boarding schools than at home."

The waitress returned with their beef plate specials, each came with a large order of various vegetables and a bowl of rice. She filled their condiment bowls with dipping sauces and after asking if they needed anything else, retreated.

"Where did you go to school?" Treize inquired as he started putting vegetables into the slowly simmering broth.

"Aren't you the nosy one?" Milliardo grinned.

"Just curious, but if it is a secret..."

"No secret," the young man replied and gave him the name of the prep school in Switzerland he had attended as he began filling his own pot.

"Impressive." Treize added a piece of thinly sliced Kobe beef and a piece of tofu to his broth. The meat was done in an instant.

How about yourself? Do you have any siblings?"

"Look who is nosy now." The older man chuckled.

"A tit for a tat," Milliardo replied with a smile.

"Fair enough I suppose. I did have two older brothers. But they were killed even before I was born. I'm afraid I know very little about them."

Now it was Milliardo's turn to look uncomfortable. He mumbled that he was sorry and decided it was probably safer to stay clear of personal questions.

Using his chopsticks like scissors Treize cut the piece of tofu in half, picked it up, dipped it into the sesame sauce and offered it to the other man.

"Just try it," he nodded encouragingly when Milliardo hesitated.

Finally with a sigh the blonde leaned forward, pulling the white piece of tofu from the chopsticks with his lips, chewing it slowly.

Treize watched him expectantly while he picked up the other half, dipped it and ate it himself.

"Well?"

Milliardo gave a little shrug.

"So, its not the most terrible thing I have ever eaten," he admitted, and it wasn't a lie. The firmness of the tofu was just right and it had taken on the flavor of the broth and the dipping sauce. "But don't expect me to go out of my way to buy spinach and tofu salad from here on."

Treize laughed quietly. Then he reached out with his napkin dapping away a little trickle of wetness from the corner of Milliardo's mouth.

"Little bit of sesame sauce there," he explained.

Just like the time when they first met at the Rainbow Pond, the touch sent a strange flash of sensations through Milliardo's body, making him almost gasp. He quickly directed his attention toward his simmering pot.

"Darn, I almost overcooked them," he mumbled as he fished out bunch of white mushrooms with long thin stems. When his heart finally stopped pounding he dared to look up again, only to find the older man watching him.

"What?" Milliardo asked. "Do I have any more sauce on my face?"

Treize simply shook his head. For a few minutes they ate silently before the tawny haired man spoke again.

"Did I mention I'm the proud owner of one of your drawings now?"

Milliardo looked up, surprise and confusion written across his face. Then realization hit.

"The sketch of Noin. YOU are the anonymous buyer?!"

"Not that anonymous anymore, I suppose."

"I don't get it. Why did you want that drawing?" The young man wondered. " And how did you come across it anyway?"

"An interior designer I'm working with had it in her portfolio." Treize dropped the last piece of Tofu into the broth along with his udon noodles and waved for the Waitress to bring him some soup base.

"You know," Milliardo told him, "You could have talked to me directly. Not only would I have given you a much better price, but I would have showed you some of my other...better stuff."

The older man shrugged. "The price was fair. As for the drawing, I like it. The young woman reminds me of someone I once knew."

Milliardo burst into laughter, earning himself a raised eyebrow from Treize.

"Did I say something funny?"

"You sound like a white haired grandfather sitting by the fireplace recalling stories of his life.'...she reminds me of someone I once knew.' " Milliardo made his voice sound frail and shaky. "You are not that much older than me."

Treize laughed quietly, his eyes sparkling with mirth. "I guess not, it just seems that way sometimes."

The younger man looked at him, smiling softly. Intentionally, or unintentionally Treize's foot touched his under the table and he felt another flash of sensations. This time it didn't surprise him anymore; it just made him yearn for more.

"Do you have any plans after this?" he asked as he too dumped his udon into the slowly boiling pot.

"Depends on what you consider 'plans'," Treize replied diplomatically. "Nothing that can't be put off if something more interesting comes along."

"I still owe you that tour of my apartment and my studio." Milliardo looked the other man straight into the eyes. "Are you up for it? Wufei is out of town, remember."

Treize didn't blink or look away. He just smiled.

"Can't think of anything I would rather do."

####

Unable to stifle another yawn, Quatre covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he rang up a purchase.

"Sorry!"

"Long night?"

He nodded.

His customer, a elderly lady with a number of second hand romance novels and mysteries in her cart, smiled knowingly as she paid for her purchases.

"Oh to be young again."

Smiling back politely the young man handed her the bag with her books. "Have a nice day. And come again."

She waved at him as she slowly made her way out of the store. Once alone Quatre yawned again. Between the ball, Trowa demanding attention and a number of noisy nieces and nephews visiting for Sunday Brunch he had gotten less than 3 hours of sleep. Under other circumstances he would have taken the day off, but Howard had asked him to cover the store for the afternoon, as he had something important to take care of.

The bell above the door chimed and Quatre turned his head to see a young man about his age dressed in jeans and a T-shirt he might have slept in. His chocolate brown hair hadn't made the acquaintance of a comb in days it seemed. His eyes wandered through the store, but not as though he was looking for a book.

Instinctively Quatre tensed and his gaze went to Oscar. The orange tabby was lying in the window absorbed in self grooming, never sparing as much as a look for the stranger. Quatre relaxed a little. Maybe his run in with those vampires had made him paranoid. But then, just because you are paranoid it doesn't mean something isn't out there trying to suck your blood, eat your soul or chew off your head, right?

"Can I help you?" He asked, with a little more reservation than intended in his voice.

The young man turned his head looking at him for a long moment before he spoke.

"I'm looking for Howard. You are not him I assume."

Quatre shook his head.

"Howard isn't here right now."

"But he will return?"

"Maybe later today, tomorrow for sure," Quatre confirmed.

"Thanks." The young man nodded.

There was something unusual about him. But Quatre couldn't quite put his finger on it. He was sure he didn't sense any demonic aura from the stranger, but something rather close to it. He hesitated for a moment, then curiosity won over caution.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

The young man shook his head, then seemed to change his mind. "Do you have any books about Schwarze Jäger?" he asked, the foreign words falling strangly from his tongue.

Schwarze Jäger, that's German for Black Hunters, isn't it? Quatre wondered. "I'm not sure. I would have to check."

"I see." His customer nodded. "I'll be back tomorrow."

The blonde watched as he walked out of the store and down the street without looking back.

Curious guy! he thought as he turned on the computer at the sales desk, pulled up the inventory database and typed the words 'Schwarze' and 'Jäger' into the search box. Once again he was glad that he had managed to convince Howard to finally join the rest of the world in the 21st century, invest in a computer and set up this database.
Within seconds he had about half a dozen returns, a couple of novels, one documentary about a German World War II fighter squadron, and a Victorian travel account by an German adventurer touring West Africa in the company of a native tribe. Somehow Quatre had the feeling that neither of those topics was what his visitor had been looking for. The summery for the fifth entry however caught his attention. It was talking about the Schwarzen Jäger as a organization founded in the middle ages, with the goal of hunting and eradicating werewolves.

Werewolves!? Quatre let out a whistle as he checked the inventory number under which the book was stored on the shelves.

####

"Very nice!" Treize sounded impressed as he looked around Milliardo's studio. He pretended not to notice the younger man hastily removing a few sketches from a board and slipping them into one of the drawers on his desk. "Did you paint all of those?"

"Hell no. Most of them are artists I admire or that have influenced my work in one way or another."

"I see." The tawny-haired man turned his head."What's that?" He threw out his chin toward the cloth covered statue in the middle of the room.

"Just the newest project I'm working on."

"Why is it covered?"

"To keep it from drying out. Otherwise the clay becomes unusable," Milliardo explained.

"Any chance I might get to peek beneath the sheet?" Treize inquired.

"Sorry," Milliardo put himself between the statue and the other man. "It's considered bad luck for an artist to show off his unfinished work."

"That's too bad. I certainly wouldn't want to be the cause of any ill fate. But I would like to be the first to see it when it is done."

"We will have to see about that," Milliardo replied evasively and laughed.

Treize had already moved on to a picture on the wall to the left of him. "That's Laguna Canyon isn't it?"

"Way back when I was still in grade school. Before the toll road was build," Milliardo confirmed. "I made the sketches on a field trip, but didn't actually paint it until a few years ago. Call it a trace of nostalgia."

Suddenly a phone rang in the other room.

"Darn," the young man swore. "I'll be right back."

Treize waited until Milliardo had left the studio. He could hear the phone being picked up.

"Yeah?"

Quickly and quietly the incubus prince dashed toward the covered statue, lifting the gray linen cloth just far enough to peek beneath it. A wide smile crossed his face as he studied his own body made of tan colored clay.

He is good, Treize thought. He is very good.

Most mortals didn't recall their dreams vividly enough to turn them into such a detailed piece of art. But that only confirmed what he had suspected all along. Milliardo was no mere mortal.

In the other room the phone was being hung up, and the incubus let the cloth fall back into place.

##

Treize was studying another painting as Milliardo stepped back into his study. His gaze went to the partially finished statue. Was that just his imagination, or had the cover been moved?

"I really like this one," the older man remarked as he stepped away from the landscape drawing. "You do have a lot of talent."

"Well, thank you. I'll take your word for it." There was a trace of modesty in Milliardo's chuckle. Suddenly he grimaced and rubbed his neck.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really. A few days ago I fell asleep on the couch watching TV and woke up with a crick in my neck." He laughed again. "Never had that problem with my old, worn out couch. Shows you that style and comfort do not always go hand in hand."

"Let me see."

Before Milliardo could stop him the older man had stepped behind him and laid his hands onto the back of his neck. He pushed his thumbs into several pressure points, then massaged the tense tissue with the soft tips of his fingers.

Milliardo's felt his legs turn to pudding and his knees almost buckled as a gentle, pleasant warmth spread through his body.

How is he doing this?

He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his brain began to cloud over with a sense of desire he had never experienced before.

"Better?"

Treize removed his hands, and the younger man almost moaned at the loss.

"Much better. What did you do to me?"

His tongue felt heavy as though he had just woken from deep slumber. The other man just smiled.

"I might not be able to draw a stick figure if my life depended on it, but I do have a few talents of my own," he remarked, in a voice that sounded sultry and sexy to Milliardo's ears.

The young man looked up, directly into a pair of blue eyes that seemed even more intense than usual. Treize's lips, slightly parted and glistening with moisture, practically begged to be kissed. Milliardo didn't fight the urge. He reached up, one hand cupping the back of the other man's head, pulling him toward him as his mouth covered those hot lips.

Treize didn't resist. His own hand found its way around Milliardo's hips encircling them, pulling him closer. He leaned against the younger man in a mixture of delicious willingness and masculine dominance. The kiss deepened, slowed, became something intense and erotic as the heat of their bodies seemed to grow.

Fingertips ghosted over Milliardo's face, soft and feather-light. His heart was pounding, and he could feel the other man's, too. Treize broke the kiss first, and Milliardo swayed slightly, his legs like rubber, his breath gone. He reached out but the other man pulled back ever so slightly.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

There was no explanation needed as to what 'this' meant.

Milliardo snorted as he grabbed the front of the other man's shirt. "I wanted to do this since the evening we first met, you pea brain."

One eyebrow rose in a mixture of amusement and sarcasm.

"Pea brain?! Is that a term of endearment?"

"You talk too much," the blonde complained as he pressed his lips once again against Treize's, successfully stifling any further protest.

His fingers started to fumble with the buttons of the other man's shirt, one hand slipping beneath it exploring soft, hot skin.

Treize gave a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr. His lips parted slightly to allow a hot tongue to slip between them. He grabbed Milliardo tighter, and reached for the buckle of the young man's leather belt, unclasping it. Long fingers slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans, probing. The lack of any kind underwear caused him to raise his eyebrow again.

You really have been ready for this, haven't you?

Milliardo gasped when those fingers pulled down the zipper of his pants, gently teasing his already hardening shaft. Somewhere deep in the back of his brain, a part that hadn't yet been clouded with pleasure and desire reminded him that this wasn't the most comfortable place to have sex. He broke their kiss just long enough to pant:

"Bedroom!"

Treize took the opportunity to grab Milliardo's t-shirt , pulling it over his head with one swift motion and dropping it to the floor.

As the two men slowly made their way into the master bedroom, kissing and groping, they left a trail of strewn garments like breadcrumbs on their way.

###

Milliardo woke, slightly disoriented. His eyes went to the window, from the position of the sun he could tell it was still early afternoon, and then to the prone figure beside him. Treize seemed to be sleeping, his body partially covered with one of the bed sheets.

The young man leaned back in the pillows, taking a few moments to bask in the afterglow of their sexual adventure. It had been more than just sex. It was desire, pleasure, lust and a struggle for dominance all rolled into one amazing experience, different from anything he had ever felt before. After the climax he couldn't even say if he fell asleep or passed out from pure exhaustion, he just knew it had been... Incredible!

The other man stirred.

"You are awake?"

"I wasn't sleeping." Treize turned to face him, studying him quietly for a few moments. "How do you feel?"

"Like I wrestled a 3000 pound Rhino and then ran a marathon. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat?"

"Wrestle a Rhino?" the other man asked, tongue in cheek.

"Idiot," Milliardo snorted as he moved closer, resting his head against Treize's chest. A strong arm snaked around his waist holding him tight. He closed his eyes with a smile.

"Do you have to go?"

"Not right away."

"Good, I wasn't going to let you. In fact..." Milliardo's eyes opened, sparkling with mirth as he looked up at the older man. "...I think I might just keep you here forever, chained up as my sex slave."

A low chuckle rumbled through Treize's chest. Milliardo could feel it resonate in his own body.

The sound of a gong suddenly rang through the bedroom and the older man jerked up.

"My phone!"

He looked around, the gong chimed again, from somewhere inside his pants which lay discarded on the floor. Treize managed grab them without having to climb out of bed, pulled out the phone and swiped the screen.

"Something important?" Milliardo asked, hoping that it wasn't the case.

Treize shook his head as he put the phone down on the nightstand. He fluffed up the pillow and settled against it in a sitting position.

"Just my cat... Snowball."

"Your cat sends your texts?" Milliardo pushed himself up onto his elbows. "What does he need, more Whiskas?"

"Not exactly." The other man laughed. "He sometimes triggers the motion sensors which turn on the surveillance cameras., and then the security system sends me an alert."

"Surveillance cameras... motion sensors...," the blonde snorted. "Where do you live, Fort Knox?"

Treize just smiled.

"Let me see your cat." Milliardo demanded, holding out his hand.

"He's probably already gone." The other man replied as he reached for the phone and turned it on. Sure enough, the video feedback coming from the camera showed nothing but a empty hall.

"Oh well," Milliardo shrugged. "You know, I would have figured you more of a dog person."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. You seem like someone who likes to be in control. People like that don't adopt cats. Cats don't like to be controlled, they like to do their own thing. Did you know cats are the only animals that technically domesticated themselves? "

"So I've heard, Dr. Freud." Treize smirked. "And for your information, I didn't adopt him, it was more the other way around. - Say, do you mind if I take a shower?"

"Go right ahead," Milliardo gestured at the door to the bathroom. "There are fresh towels in the cabinet under the sink. Just drop them into the hamper when you are done."

"Thanks." the older man climbed out of bed, making no attempt to cover himself when the sheet slipped away.

Milliardo studied his perfect body from behind as he picked up his clothes and made his way into the bathroom.

"Would you like me to join you?"

Turning his head just as he stepped through the door, Treize smiled slightly. "Very tempting, but I have a feeling that might put us right back where we started."

"And what exactly would be wrong with that?" the blonde asked innocently

##

The door closed and Milliardo once again settled back into the pillows, a smile on his face. In the bathroom the shower was turned on. He could hear the water running. For a moment he considered if he should get up as well, when the now familiar sound of the gong chimed once again through the room.

Maybe Snowball is back?

The young man grabbed the phone, pushed the power button and swiped the screen to unlock the device. To his disappointment he found the video screen empty again. But just as he was about to put the phone down again he noticed the app had options that allowed him to switch between different cameras and angles. A impish smile crossed his face as he thought of the possibilities that opened.

With a quick glance at the bathroom door he pulled down the menu, selected a different camera and started his own private little tour through the house. Everything looked very stylish and very modern, not that he had expected anything less from Treize.

He certainly has taste, he thought as he looked around the living room, then chuckled. I spoke soon.

In front of a large, natural stone, fireplace he noticed a large animal rug. It was one of those white tiger rugs with the stuffed head still attached. Not only did it look badly done, it also seemed completely out of place in the room.

I thought those things went out of style at the same time as people stopped wearing fur coats? Maybe it's not real. Or perhaps a heirloom, passed down through the family? Someone should tell him, it looks kitschy.

No sign of Snowball, though. Milliardo angled the camera to the left when he suddenly noticed some movement...or thought he did. He frowned as he moved back toward the fire place and the tiger rug. For just one moment there he could have sworn the tiger's tail twitched.

The water was turned off in the bathroom, and Milliardo decided he didn't want Treize to find him playing with his phone. He turned off the device and put it back onto the nightstand., then climbed out of bed. He grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser under the window and slipped them on.

Moments later Treize walked back into the bedroom, his hair damp and slicked back .

"How about a cup coffee?" Milliardo asked.

"I'd love some."

###

"I can't believe he disqualified me," Wufei grumbled as he pulled out his keys and unlocked the apartment's door. "Unsportsmanlike conduct my ass. The guy had been badgering me for the entire fight. I make one single retort and I get kicked out. Talk about selective hearing."

Angrily he kicked off his shoes. From the living room he could hear soft music.

"Milliardo, I'm home!"

The young man looked up and his heart nearly skipped a beat.

The room looked like there had been a fight. Pillows were lying on the ground along with the crystal candle holder that usually sat on the coffee table and pieces of what looked like a cup or dish. Milliardo was sitting on the couch. Looming directly over him like a bad omen, was Treize Khushrenada. He had one hand pressed against Milliardo's chest as though he was holding him down. The younger man didn't struggle, perhaps he was under some kind of spell, as Treize prepared to...

Wufei didn't wait to find out what the incubus prince was about to do. He dropped his sports bag, unzipped it and drew Nataku with almost the same motion, and attacked...

T.B.C.

Author's Note: