((whimpers I know, I know, this one took me -forever- to get up, and I do apologize for that. I have legitimate reasons though, trust me. Namely, I wasn't at my house for two weeks and had no computer. Yay for summer trips, and before that I had a special visitor for a week and had to devote -all- my time to her, and now have been in a feverish daze for the last nine or so days. Aside from that, there's just been a hell of a lot going on. Blah, blah, right? And now I am posting, but I'm so cheating with it, namely on my little version of an ending. I know I promised you all some yaoi, but that's going to have to wait for the next chapter. I got sidetracked in trying to make the whole scene a little more realistic to me and not just another of those 'Oh, you're cute, let's do it!' fics. I hate those with a passion, and refused to make this one without a really good reason. So, sorry, but please be patient with me? I promise not just one of those naughty scenes coming (with two tasty older men nonetheless) but two because of the later pairing!
Also, just to note it. I am not entirely pleased with this chapter. I redid it four times (thus more time in-between posting and that irked me), but I finally got it to a point I can stand it. If it seems a little spacy, blame my lack of an immune system. Any how, on with the story, right? As always, thank you so much to any loyal readers. You make my day, in all honesty.))
-Kisses like Confusion-
"The couch, please."
His steps righted themselves even as that hand shifted to guide him, and a moment later, he was turning and settling on the end of the soft velvet closest to the burning light of the fire. His own descent onto it's cushions was more clumsy then he'd like, a thing of trust rather than grace because of the metal bands that had only just begun to truly bother his wrists.
But at the soft and undeniable 'You too, Zechs' from Trieze, he didn't feel quite as embarrassed about it. Zechs had turned and dropped onto the other side of the couch in an almost casual sprawl before he finally appeared to catch himself and straighten slowly up, eyes attentive for more orders but sparkling dully from the effects of his earlier drinks. Perhaps, Quatre thought, if he has just a few more glasses of alcohol, maybe that brandy that was offered, he'll be drunk enough that I can just slip right by him. That wouldn't take care of Trieze, but it was a start in the right direction. If it came to it, he was sure he could at least get behind the older male and wrap his cuffs about the elegant throat above those clean ruffles, using him as a shield if necessary and a tool of bribery for freedom otherwise.
His eyes followed Trieze as that slim form rose and moved towards the fire, then as hands reached up and extracted the amber-filled bottle that sat upon it's mantle. After he'd opened it, he pulled a short crystal glass from a stack of the like down and glanced over to the young blonde with a disarming smile. "Would you care for some, petite one?"
"No. Thank you kindly though, Sir. I don't drink."
Trieze silenced a soft chuckle that wanted to come at the sight of that pale face tipping it's chin regally up, despite the cuffs that rested heavily in his lap and dwarfed the small wrists. "Is that a personal preference, or because you are too young to have that privilege yet?"
It was close to a personal question, but not one that he found immediately alarming or able to tip his captures off later. "Both. I don't care for it's taste or the effects it causes in people, the sudden lack of mental abilities, and I have tried it to know…" Thanks, Duo. Never ever again. His braided friend had said that most people had trouble handling it the first time, but he still didn't care to ever feel that muddled sense of incomprehension fall over him again. It took away perhaps the largest talent he had to offer the mismatched band that had formed with them all. "And it wouldn't be legal for me."
Glancing discreetly to the side, Trieze watched Zechs' eyes widen at that knowledge. But you aren't that surprised, are you, love? You knew he wasn't yet an adult when you found him, I would bet money on it. And even knowing, that doesn't dim that light of 'I want' within your eyes… Sweet child or trained thief, you'd cradle and covet this one. Not that he blamed him, and not that it changed any of his unspoken plans as Trieze turned and made his way back to his large chair. It did however, make him pause briefly, enough to wonder at why then this boy had been sent to do what he did. It wasn't on his own, he felt sure of that… But why had someone picked a boy for the task then? It was clear there was something remarkable about the youth's wits just from what he'd already seen, but otherwise the little blonde didn't strike him as a soldier, or a professional robber.
Neither did Zechs when he first started. The soft inward voice made him blink in consideration, but it was true. He glanced again to the long haired beauty on the couch, watching the way the red and yellow flames reflected in his nearly white locks. They created a mirrored fire that rippled over Zechs' shoulders and almost into his lap, the effect breathtaking now that he'd noticed. Perhaps the blonde fought him for every inch he gained, but Zechs was still his in every sense of the word. Even as his lover sat there, slightly mulled by the drink and relaxing into the soft embrace of the couch, it was easy to pick out the hard training of a fighter within him like steel beneath a silken surface. The way his eyes darted to the fire when something popped noisily in there, calculating before dismissing it as harmless. The way he looked ready to leap up if someone should suddenly come breaking through his door. Looking at him now was to look at a perfect picture of efficiency.
But when he'd first met Zechs, he'd looked something like the boy that now sat beside him. Trieze didn't want to remember himself then, to consider the blind idealist he'd been and the goals that had been shattered on the world's hard cobblestones since, but he remembered the fey figure of the blonde coming back from his practice, smiling, damp with exertion and worn, but oh-so proud of his success. That boy had been able to float on a wave of happiness with even the slightest praise from his tutors then… While one harsh word was enough to leave him coming to Trieze in tears, seeking comfort but only by pretending he didn't really need it. Zechs was self sufficient, and didn't need anyone, and although Trieze knew even then that wasn't the truth, he was willing to pretend if it brought him closer to the blonde. He had still been a puzzle as a child, but one that the slightly older Trieze had been able to figure out from time to time. Loving Zechs was like mastering any game of skill out there.
Now with his lovely companion, it was always trying, and some days he just -couldn't- understand why Zechs acted as he did. It was the perpetual mystery that continued to entice him and draw him to the occasionally frigid beauty.
Zechs had been pretty then, an almost delicate thing of long limbs and curving pink lips, his hair a soft feathered halo around his features. He's looked as much 'fighter' and 'threat' as a kitten playing with string… But Trieze had seen the blood of the boy's first kill and mission when he was only thirteen. That instant when Zechs had been standing outside his door with the red still drying on him like so much guilt, was one he'd never forget. That sweet child existed still within the dirty form, but it had started to fade and die right then, and he had mourned for it.
As he looked across the room to the pale cherubic cheeks of their little 'guest', he wondered if this boy had sat down before he went to bed one night already, and found himself scratching blood out from under his nails with that carefully blank look. Maybe theft was as far as his corruption went, but there was something in his thoughtful gaze that made Trieze want to assume otherwise. He'd do well not to turn his back on the seemingly delicate male.
Child or not, and whether he knew the exact reasons or never would, -someone- had chosen this boy for this task, he was sure of it. So that sweet little body must have been hiding some talent.
As he looked away from the round curves of the boy's features, skin that begged to have fingers cup and treasure it, he noticed Zechs' gaze resting heavily on the child's hair. He smiled slightly as he understood his lover was watching the same miracle of the flames he'd noticed only moments before. Of course, with him there'd only been the stunned amazement he hadn't noticed such a thing before and perhaps found a way to forever capture it; in Zechs cool blue glance, he saw the first flickerings of his decision as to what he wanted. The game was on.
Several moments of silence stretched on with them remained in their fixed positions; the youngest blonde staring into the fire and 'ignoring' the scene around him while clearly getting more and more tense, Zechs staring at him, and Trieze patiently waiting for one or the other to snap.
What he didn't expect was for them to both do so at once.
The boy turned in place, his mouth already open to form questioning words no doubt, and was halted by the smooth press of lips against his. If he'd turned just a second earlier, he would have seen something in Zechs eyes light up with his decision, would have seen the blonde's gaze shift from his golden hair to his full mouth, and would have noticed the silent advance of the other male over the couch's surface, but as it was he was perfectly caught by such an 'attack'.
Quatre lost his equilibrium for a moment under such an unexpected assault; he stared almost blindly to the face so near to his, mostly into the half-closed cool blue orbs, and just felt the warm sensation of another person's form so close. It was like feeling his body warm up after walking home in the snow, a slow tingling that started and spread. There was something like a drug about the texture of the other male's mouth against his, or perhaps it was just that part of him knew this for what it was and wanted to freeze the moment in time to sort through later. His first real kiss. Whether he would be fine with it hours from now or try to deny it ever happened wasn't left to pondering now, because a moment after that small little voice in his head was softly wondering about the feelings it brought and if he should react, his soldier's training kicked in.
From where he sat, Trieze watched the advance and silently cheered Zechs' initiative on. He saw the bliss that touched onto his lover's features when he caught those childishly plush lips beneath his, something no one else might have noticed but that was plain as day to him. He watched, and had time enough to wonder if the beautiful male ever looked that way when they kissed. That was about all he managed to consider before the prettily stunned aqua eyes of their prisoner cleared, and the next thing he heard was the sharp thud of a fist connecting with Zechs' cheek.
The blonde's head whipped back, more out of surprise then the clumsy cuffed punch that Quatre had thrown, and for a good thing too. As Zechs' mouth dropped open and he stared at the youth that was now pressed against the other arm of the couch and glaring balefully at him, he felt the stinging heartbeat-like throbbing high on his cheekbone, and knew if he'd totally caught that attack, he might actually be unconscious on the floor now.
So much for pleasant beginnings. Trieze carefully lifted himself out of the chair and started making his way silently around to the back of the couch. At the same time, Zechs finally came back to himself and lightly rubbing the red flesh of his cheeks, he gave the youth stern frown. "What is the matter with you?"
Now it was their prisoner's turn to gape. First in stunned muteness at the question, then in anger as he snapped defensively- "I should ask you the same thing!"
"There's nothing the matter with me." His slightly fuzzy mind tried to chirp up that perhaps something -was- wrong with him if the littler blonde was reacting in such a way, but he quickly crushed that inner voice and gave the youth a petulant scowl. "I was merely trying to kiss you, and you struck me."
He blanched at that blunt response. "Of COURSE I did!"
"It wasn't necessary. I wasn't trying to hurt you in anyway, and I think we've been more than kind up to now." Zechs sounding almost like he was pouting, and oldest of the males working his way around the fireplace now winced. Oh Zechs, bad choice. This was not that way he had hoped for things to go.
"Kind?! What does that have to do with you suddenly kissing me? You are my captors! Not my prom date! I'm not just going to sit back smiling when the person who's caught me breaking into their establishment decides to… To come onto me! And while the man who is clearly your lover looks on. That's ludicrous, and I resent that you'd even try such a thing!"
The hint of hysterics in the boy's tone cut through Zechs' daze like a knife and instantly his disappointment and sulking behavior left him. Looking more than a little ashamed and alarmed with his own actions (hadn't he been thinking earlier that this boy deserved nothing more than perfection, and here he was behaving like an oversexed teen in the backseat of a car), he reached forward with the intent of somehow comforting the angelic being.
Of course, that wasn't how it looked to Quatre.
He saw the slender fingers of his now not so stoic guard coming towards him again, and warning bells sounded loudly in his mind that Zechs had decided to continue that kiss with or without his consent. His back pressed painfully against the arm of the couch as he retreated as best he good, and he raised a fist again to defend himself, even as his shaky words of defense emerged - "If you try that again, so help me I'll-"
"Now now, there's really no need whatsoever for violence around here, Dove." With that calmly purred comment from just behind him, the little blonde felt a hand wrap gently but securely around his wrist.
His first instinct was to start yanking from the grip while he twisted around, to perhaps trip up his would-be attacker and gain the upper hand. Despite that quick thought though, he held himself carefully in place as he remembered exactly what he was dealing with here. Not one person, but two, and both of which had already shown some potential in being clever in battle circumstances. Not just your average pompous businessmen. If he tried to flip the man that called himself Trieze, or to run him into Zechs by pulling his wrist to himself, he'd likely only end up with angry 'hosts' and be no better off for his trouble. He needed to escape, but he was smart enough to know now wasn't the time he'd be doing so.
Those options and considerations raced through his mind rapidly, and a few seconds after Trieze had asserted his hold around the boy's wrist, Quatre had forced himself to calm down. He let the appendage go mostly limp in Trieze's grasp, then tilted his head up to look at the tall form behind him with a small, pinched frown.
I know you aren't happy with this, precious one. You aren't in danger though, and for the rest, you'll have to trust us, won't you? He smiled softly and reassuringly to that upturned face, resisted the urge to reach up and stroke the feather-soft looking sun kissed locks, then shifted his gaze to the pale blonde who was now watching them with a carefully blank look. It was an expression Trieze knew how to calculate, however. Zechs knew he'd made an error in that hasty move, and regretted it. He'd ceased his movement forward over the couch, good intentions now or not, and was just sitting halfway over it's plush surface with his hands placed no threateningly in his lap and his eyes shifting between his lover and the youth he wanted to share that title with.
For a long moment silence stretched out in the swaying red glow of the fire, and this time Trieze allowed it to. In the quiet, he watched as the nameless boy they'd caught slowly worked through his own turmoil with what had just happened and as Zechs mentally scolded himself, then patiently corrected what he'd done wrong in his mind before he finally glanced up at Trieze and gave the slightest of nods. That gesture might not of meant anything to anyone else, but the older man understood it perfectly. Control of the situation was now his.
When he felt a vast majority of the tension in the teen's form leave, translated to him by the racing pulse just beneath his fingers in that small wrist and in the almost unnoticeable thrum that crept over the mock porcelain flesh, he slowly bent over the youth. Trieze allowed him to see that move so he wouldn't be too scared, and although he felt the blonde's heart rate pick up slightly again, he reached his goal without any protests from the boy or serious alarm. He stopped with his chin almost resting on one of the prisoner's (was he truly still that to them though?) shoulders, his mouth hovering only an inch or two from the soft shell of one ear.
"Zechs didn't mean to trouble you, Dove. Nor did he mean to make you feel like he wanted to take advantage of you. Already, he has a good deal too much respect for you to dream of doing such a distasteful thing."
That voice was a soothing rumble to him, something that almost tickled the senses. It didn't vanish the uncomfortable nervousness he felt at someone, some -stranger-, being so close to his person, but it took the edge off a little. It's almost like being hugged with words… How unusual. The larger male was still too near, still a potential enemy, but Quatre knew he wasn't an immediate danger. The voice wouldn't have been enough in itself to make him so sure of that and to put himself at possible risk, but the way the older gentleman was cautious about approaching and mindful of his perception of the situation, along with the careful hold Trieze still maintained on his hand as though he didn't want to hurt him, furthered that belief considerably.
In front of him, the other male was nodding softly to Trieze's words, in silent agreement and apology. Quatre wasn't sure if he'd forgive so fast, he had just been -- Been what? Kissed? You're holding a grudge for being kissed? The boy blinked. Well, yes, that was exactly what he was planning on doing. Didn't he have a right to do so?
Perhaps not, and that was what troubled him. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if hitting Zechs had been the right response now or not. It worked in television shows, sure, but being part of it was a lot different. He'd been a little thrown by the contact but hadn't he, at least for a second, thought it was also nice? He sighed and shook his head softly. "Why did you do such a thing though?"
"Why?" - Came the echoing answer from -both- of the hovering males, accompanied by startled expressions.
He scowled petulantly and gave a nod as his gaze darted between them.
Trieze laughed. The older male actually burst out in a low tide of chuckles, as if he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. Quatre gave him a look of indignant confusion until Zechs' answer drew his attention back.
"Because you are beautiful. You are here now, and you're like something that fell from a dream. The sight of you can't help but bring thoughts of touching, holding, of even getting to talk to you. Because I saw you first when I flipped you over, from where I had struck you, and I felt sure I would be damned for hurting such a divine being." He reached a hand slowly towards Quatre, not that the boy who was currently staring at him in a state of shock with his mouth hanging slightly open was likely to pull back if he -had- been wielding a knife, but he'd learned his lesson the first time. Long slender fingers came gently in contact with the flaxen gold of the hair on the side of the young man's temples. "For hair that looks like it's solidified sunlight, and for getting to see every storm on the sea in your eyes."
He sighed softly and drew his hand back, though not before letting his fingers just barely drag across the full rise of one of the boy's cheeks. "I kissed you not because I wanted to attack you on a new level or throw your mind a new problem to deal with, but because I was helpless -not- too. If getting hit was the cost of such a wonderful thing, it's one I'd gladly pay a thousand times over."
Sometime during the course of that answer, the eldest of them had fallen silent again, simply listening with admiration as he lightly traced circles with his thumb over the soft incurve of the prisoner's wrist. Once Zechs had fallen silent, looking somewhat embarrassed with himself actually though he honestly thought he'd never heard his lover be so truthful, Trieze took the opportunity to lean forward and murmur into his ear once more.
"I wasn't jealous, Dove, simply for the reason that when involving someone like you, you -can't- be jealous. That would be like blaming the moon for rising, or blaming the sea for rushing to the shores. It's something that just -is-, do you understand that? Zechs saw you, and knew in a heartbeat that he wanted to be near you… Then I followed him, and I knew the same. You are in no danger from us, no matter how you came to be here. You are only a prisoner to us in your own mind…"
No, he didn't understand. Couldn't understand. How could anyone? Things like this just -didn't- happen, and certainly not to mousy teens like him. He was supposed to be lying in a room somewhere dreaming about a girl, wasn't he? About taking this girl (who of course was too high on the school popularity ladder for him to ever get) to a prom, about getting the perfect tuxedo and the perfect corsage, and about maybe getting a kiss goodnight. He was supposed to be worried about grades and his image… Instead, battles were his biggest concern and what he 'crammed' for night after night. Friends were something of a valued commodity and not something he just happened to stumble across. His room changed from week to week, only made his really, by a familiar worn backpack and a few personal items he took everywhere. School was an option only when part of a mission now. And girls… Well, who in the hell had time for them in the mess that the world was? It was an insane notion. Besides, he was too dirty now for girls and proms. It was all he could do to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, he deserved a chance with someone more like himself.
That was a secret desire though, and one that had no place in his current stream of darkened thoughts.
The point was that he wasn't supposed to ever have had to face something like this. Not just one admittedly attractive person speaking beautiful words about him, words that did affect him even when he wanted to be as ice to them, but two.
He wanted to dismiss it all as just a joke, but it was getting more and more difficult to do that. Especially when Zechs and Trieze were looking at him now, their own expressions of calm patience not truly masking the anxiousness he saw in both sets of blue eyes. It can't be just a game to them… They couldn't know how their real emotions on this show. What am I supposed to do about this though?!
Luckily for him, the choice was taken completely out of his hands the next moment.