A/N: For Ro, who asked for something else entirely and I wrote this instead but I'm still going to write that one as well. Because this got away from me entirely.

Warnings: language, sex

Pairings: 5x3

They had met at Sally's birthday party. It was one of those excruciatingly painful company events with a cake and awkward toasts, where a card had gone around and half of the people who signed it didn't even know who Sally was.

Wufei wouldn't have even bothered to get up from his desk, to stand there and mumble his way through Happy Birthday, but he had had to refill his coffee and Quatre had seen him, had grabbed him by the arm and smiled brightly, and shoved the cake into his hands and told him that Wufei should give it to her.

So he had, just managing to keep a scowl off his face because this was Sally, after all, and even though she had a generally higher opinion of humankind than Wufei did, she wasn't a fan of these sorts of things either.

In fact, aside from Quatre, their too nice, too meddlesome boss, Wufei didn't think any of the employees of Winning Strategies liked these kinds of things.

After delivering the cake, Wufei had moved off to the side, had retrieved the coffee mug Quatre had taken from his hands, and refilled and sipped it on the sidelines, glaring at the proceedings, until he had seen Trowa walk in.

He had walked past the open door of the conference room, stopped, smirked slightly, and had walked into the room and posted himself by the door.

Wufei couldn't help but let his gaze linger on this stranger, on his impossibly long legs and his broad shoulders. On his face. Even half-obscured, it was captivating. His features were regular, bland even, but there was something about the line of his jaw, the arch of his cheek, the depth of his green gaze, that made him startlingly handsome.

Trowa had looked up, had caught Wufei staring at him, and had arched an eyebrow in question, maybe in judgement, but he had seemed more amused than anything else.

Wufei had looked away, huffing in annoyance - he hated being the source of amusement for other people - but a moment later Trowa had been beside him, leaning against the wall, hands in his pockets and so casual he might as well have been part of the office decor.

"Who are you?" Wufei had demanded, knowing it was rude.

Trowa's lips had twitched. Amused again.

"Trowa," he had said, his voice soft, maybe in an effort not to draw attention away from Sally's little fete. "I'm a friend of Quatre's."

Oh. One of those.

One of the endless carousel of boys that Quatre paraded through the office.

None of them lasted - Quatre seemed to be cursed with the inability to commit, to remain interested in a relationship longer than two weeks - though there had been that one… Duo? Who had made it an entire month before Quatre stopped bringing him around.

Trowa had seen Wufei's disdain and he had smirked again.

"I'm just a friend," he had clarified.

Wufei wasn't sure why he had bothered - he didn't care what Quatre did, or who.

He had pushed himself away from the wall and walked away, intent on going back to his cubicle and trying to get some work done.

But he couldn't help looking over his shoulder, couldn't help catching Trowa's gaze again, couldn't help flushing when he had smirked.

-o-

A week later, Trowa called him.

"Quatre gave me your number," he said in greeting, not even identifying himself.

It was sad or - it was something - that Wufei didn't even need to ask who it was. He didn't get many calls outside of work, except from his mother who called him almost every other day to remind him how tired and lonely she was, and how much she deserved to have grandchildren to dote upon because she had sacrificed so very, very much for Wufei, or Meilin, who called him at least once a week, probably just to remind them both how much they didn't get along. He also, of course, had spent the last week thinking about Trowa, remembering his tiny smirk, his eyes, his-

"Why?" Wufei demanded.

"Because I asked for it." Trowa sounded amused, and Wufei had to take a deep breath and resist the urge to just hang up.

"I assumed that much," he bit out.

"Anything else you want to assume?"

Wufei closed his eyes. There were all kinds of things he wanted to assume, but life had taught him not to do any of that. So he remained quiet, and he waited.

"I'd like to take you out to dinner. Tomorrow."

Wufei scowled. He didn't like the stuttering beat of his heart, the racing of his pulse. He didn't trust it.

"I'm busy tomorrow," he lied.

"The day after, then."

"I can't."

"Friday."

"No, I-"

Trowa chuckled, the sound rich and deep, and it made Wufei shiver. He closed his eyes, licked his lips, and tried to memorize every nuance of that sound.

"Do you want to go out with me, Wufei?"

Trowa said his name perfectly, his voice dropping a register and turning it into an endearment, almost.

"Yes," Wufei breathed.

"Then when would you like to go out?" He still sounded amused, but it was so light, so faint, that it didn't cut through Wufei anymore. Merely teased at him.

"Not dinner." It felt like too much - felt like so much could go wrong - and Wufei knew himself. He knew how grating he was, knew that even fifteen minutes in his company was more than enough for most people.

"Coffee? Lunch? Brunch? Breakfast in bed?"

The mental image accompanying that last suggestion hit Wufei with a swift, implacable jolt of lust.

Yes.

"Coffee," he managed to say, closing his eyes against the image of Trowa naked, the fantasy of waking up to a gorgeous man ready and aching to be fucked by Wufei.

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," Wufei agreed. "Not Starbucks," he added, hastily.

"Daily Grind?" Trowa named the hole in the wall coffee shop two blocks from Winning Strategies.

"Yes."

"Seven-thirty?"

It was early, but then, they both had work - or at least, Wufei did. He had no idea what Trowa did.

"Yes."

"Sleep well, Wufei." It was a tease, maybe even a taunt, and it sent another shiver through Wufei's body.

-o-

Trowa showed up in jeans and a sweater. It wasn't a bad look on him, considering the way that the jeans hugged his lean hips and the sweater his torso, but it made Wufei wonder if he did work - or what he did that allowed him to dress so casually.

They ordered their coffee, added cream and sugar - Wufei adding so much sugar that Trowa arched an eyebrow and smirked - and sat down at a table as far from the door and the coffee counter as possible. Even so, it wasn't quiet or very private.

"What are you so anxious about?" Trowa finally asked, five minutes in, when Wufei still hadn't been able to decide what to say, and had instead spent the time slowly scalding his tongue on the indecently hot and far too sweet coffee.

He was amused again, but it wasn't- it was bearable, just the hint of warmth in his eyes and tone. There was nothing cruel about his teasing, nothing patronizing about his humor.

"I'm a very difficult person," Wufei sat up straighter. He wasn't going to change himself - not even for this gorgeous man - and, while he might spend more than enough time hating himself, he wasn't going to hide who he was.

Trowa arched an eyebrow again.

"Difficult how?" He sounded genuinely curious, as if Wufei's admission was some part of a puzzle he wanted to solve.

"I… am not an easy person to like."

"No?" Trowa took a sip of his coffee, eyes dancing over the lip of his cup. "I like you just fine."

Wufei almost spilled his coffee, and he set it back down hastily and glared.

"You don't know me."

Trowa shrugged one shoulder in a move that was so carelessly elegant it made Wufei stare.

"I'd like to. I'm trying to."

"What do you want to know? I'm twenty-eight, I live alone with two cats and I've been engaged once. My work is the only interesting thing about my life, and I don't even care for it all that much. I have no close friends, I haven't dated anyone in three years, and the highlight of my days is fighting with the cats for a spot on the couch."

"Who wins?"

"What?" Trowa's question derailed Wufei's spiral into anxiety and irritation.

"The fight for a spot on the couch? Who wins?"

Wufei glared at him, and Trowa smirked back, set his cup down and leaned across the table, inches away from Wufei's face, and the teasing was gone from his face and voice.

"Want an ally? In that epic couch battle?"

-o-

The second date went better than the first, but only just. Lunch - Trowa had picked the place again, and it had been easier. Not easy, because nothing was ever easy for Wufei, but Trowa had coaxed him into conversation, eventually, when he made an offhand reference to Sherlock Holmes. They argued, briefly and heatedly, over the latest episode of Elementary, before Wufei realized it was childish and backed down with a blush.

Trowa had kissed him, just a brush of his lips over Wufei's that meant nothing, but made Wufei feel everything, and Trowa teasingly suggested they do dinner next time.

-o-

The waiter had just dropped off their salads when Trowa looked over at Wufei, when he offered up that now oh-so-familiar smirk.

"I want you to come over tonight, after dinner."

Wufei stared.

"I'm asking you now, so you have the entire meal to figure out how much I want you, so you don't say no right away."

It was a near thing, even then. Wufei could think of all the ways this was going to go wrong - he was going to say something that finally offended Trowa instead of amused him. He was going to say something that gave away just how little he had to offer - though he was pretty sure Trowa had to have picked up on that before now. He was, after all, not stupid. Wufei was, without a doubt, going to embarrass himself when - if - Trowa invited him into his bed.

Trowa paid the check, stood up from the table, and looked down at Wufei with his endless eyes, patient and unimposing even though he was towering above him.

When Trowa unlocked his front door, he paused, looked over his shoulder as if to make sure Wufei was still there, and then let him in.

They kissed, and Wufei realized just how much better at this Trowa was than him. There was nothing hesitant about the way Trowa parted his lips or caressed Wufei's, nothing awkward about the way Trowa's tongue teased Wufei's.

"Wufei." Trowa pulled back and looked at him, serious again. "Do you want to fuck me?"

His mouth went dry. Of course he did. How could anyone with eyes and a cock not want to fuck Trowa? How could anyone not want to bury himself in that lean body and see those bewitching eyes clouded with lust, or his too-often amused mouth open in a cry of ecstasy?

But Trowa was waiting for an answer, as if it wasn't obvious.

"Yes," Wufei managed to say after clearing his throat.

"You're sure?"

Wufei rolled his eyes, and he saw one corner of Trowa's mouth lift.

"Yes."

"Wufei, you might not have picked up on this yet, but I don't care that you're difficult. I don't care," Trowa paused and started to unbutton Wufei's shirt, "that you aren't easy."

Trowa held his gaze as he pushed Wufei's shirt off his shoulders.

"I don't even care that you're wrong most of the time."

"Wrong? What am I wrong about?"

Trowa rolled his eyes and kissed Wufei, easing his anger at being called wrong, kissing him until Wufei was breathless and clutching Trowa's waist to anchor himself to reality.

"You're wrong about Holmes and Watson being-"

"I'm not wrong, it's going to happen," Wufei growled.

But Trowa just smirked and ran his hands over Wufei's chest, raking his flesh lightly.

Wufei shivered and closed his eyes.

"You're also wrong about your work being the most interesting thing about you." Trowa leaned down and licked the shell of Wufei's ear before biting the sensitive lobe.

Wufei moaned, the sound escaping him before he could stop it.

Trowa looked triumphant, his smirk broader than Wufei had ever seen it before.

"What?" Wufei demanded.

"Nothing. I just want to see how far I have to go before you're far enough gone to moan my name."

"Farther than that," Wufei confessed, wishing he wasn't so tense, so bad at all of this, and-

"I'm prepared to go as far as I need to," Trowa cut into his thoughts. "As far as you need me to."

-o-