The thing that didn't Happen:
Many thanks to everyone who was kind enough to comment on chapter one.
Chapter 2\2:
Wufei folded each piece of clothing with care, placing them on the bed. Duo and Heero could take them back to HQ; somebody might find a use for them.
Much as he appreciated his friends' kindness, it was a relief to be alone, finally. He'd had a short time in the hotel room after Zechs had left; just enough to take a quick shower and dress, before it had all gone wrong, before two unfamiliar agents had appeared to escort him back to Sanque. At least he'd been up and dressed by then; it would have been unimaginably awful if he'd been still sprawled naked in Zechs' bed.
He sat abruptly on the edge of Duo's and Heero's bed, trying not to think about that. It hadn't happened. No point in tormenting himself. He took a deep breath, holding it, and then another. It was all right.
The worst – maybe, hopefully – was over and he was in his friends' bedroom, a room he'd helped Heero to decorate while Duo had been away on a week-long assignment. Duo's favourite things on Earth were the stars and tropical seas full of fish, so they'd painted the walls and ceilings the colour of the night sky at midnight, and then Heero had drawn the constellations in silver paint, aligned as they were on the date he and Duo had first met.
That hadn't been too difficult; fun more than anything, with the two of them slopping paint on the floor and each other and eventually escalating to a full-scale paint battle. (Duo had been so jealous he'd missed the fun that the three of them ended up painting the whole house, over the next few months, and then Wufei's apartment.)
The fish had been a bit more challenging; Wufei's suggestion of a small fish tank on Duo's dresser hadn't been nearly ambitious enough for Heero's taste. Instead, the dividing wall between the bedroom and bathroom had become a giant aquarium filled with colourful fish and plants.
It was lovely; Wufei let himself fall back on the mattress (the last time he'd done that, Zechs had followed him down). There was no point in getting stressed at this stage. What had happened, had happened. He just had to deal with it.
Friday, suddenly, seemed unbearably far away. Three days. It was probably for the best, having some time to try to come to terms with all of this. A breathing space for both of them.
That was good.
He focused carefully on watching the fish, feeling himself relax a little in an environment that was comfortable and very familiar. He'd stayed here a few times, when both of his friends were away, taking care of the cat and the fish and the plants. He liked the house; so undeniably his friends' home.
Nothing like Zechs' private rooms at the palace. He'd been inside once and it had been as impersonal as a hotel. There were books and a portrait of his parents with Relena as a small baby, but otherwise no clue whatsoever to the identity or personality of the man who lived there.
So bleak.
Wufei's own apartment, which he'd had for four years now, was most definitely his. Painted calligraphy scrolls and antique weapons and photographs and all of his insanely expensive kitchen accessories and three of Sally's lumpy afghans on the bed (Sanque was cold for six months of the year) and a few small, cherished mementoes of L5.
Paying the bills was going to be a problem, now that he was unemployed. He had savings but they wouldn't last for ever. It wouldn't be easy getting another job.
Another thing to worry about later.
He sat up, too abruptly. Damn. Definitely just as well he wasn't going to see Zechs 'til Friday; by then, he should be feeling better. He'd have time to buy some of the things Duo had suggested too. (Hopefully, they wouldn't cost too much). Or maybe Zechs had just meant for them to have dinner and talk?
Oh, well. Three days to sort himself out, to find a semblance of balance. Think about finding something he wanted to do. He could always go to work for WEI (Quatre would probably consider dismissal from Preventers a plus). He could maybe do some university courses; something he'd never had time to do before.
He'd manage.
Three days, then. He stood up, more slowly this time, heading for the bathroom. It was fine, really, if he avoided sudden movements and he definitely, absolutely wanted to do it again. Like learning to fly a Gundam, Duo had said.
The best thing in the universe.
Yes, he wanted to do that again, to be with Zechs.
His friends didn't have a bathtub, but their shower was impressive; vast, with all sorts of jets and settings and strobe lighting and a sound system. Even though he'd helped Heero to install the thing, he could never remember how to use the control panel. The first button produced an assault of blaring hard rock; he turned it off and wondered what sort of music Zechs liked, if he liked any. If he even allowed himself that much.
He let himself be power-blasted by molten water, and then turned it down to a gentle trickle as he washed.
He and Zechs had taken a bath, after the first time, and it had been utterly blissful. He'd been on some sort of high at that point, floating on sheer sensation. He couldn't remember how he'd even got into the tub, so Zechs had probably carried him. Shameful, quite, he thought, feeling his mouth curve into a smile. He'd regained full consciousness fairly quickly after that, curled against Zechs' chest with the king's arms locked around his waist. In retrospect, it was quite lucky that neither of them had drowned.
He was so very aware of his body, all of a sudden. The bar of soap sliding over his skin, cool tiles below his feet, the light spray of warm water. Sensations and memories of how he'd felt, with Zechs. He turned the dial to the coldest setting, and froze the sudden arousal away, as well as the ridiculous desire to cry.
He was tired, that was all. He'd be seeing Zechs in three days. Stupid to pine over his absence, like some lovelorn teenage girl. He was just tired, and that was perfectly natural, after more than twenty-four hours with only a short nap, waking up in Zechs' arms
He couldn't remember falling asleep, but it had happened at some point, in that huge bed, all crumpled linens and the sharp tang of sex. Sheer exhaustion, probably. He didn't know if Zechs had slept at all.
Waking up is a scattered series of sensations; some pleasant, some less so. He has the softest pillow in the universe under his head. Enough room to sprawl; not the narrow futon in his bedroom, then. A deep, wholly unfamiliar ache, deep inside. (That's not pleasant.) Someone is touching his hair, tentative. Very pleasant.
Oh.
When he jerks his eyes open, it's still mostly dark, with just a rim of light around the bedroom door. Oh. The bedroom in Zechs' suite.
He moves, rolling over to lie on his back. Naked; except for a sheet tangled in his legs. He should be self-conscious about that, Wufei thinks dimly, but there's not much point, now. It's all a bit surreal.
Zechs is standing by the bed. When Wufei moves, his hand stills, and then he removes it altogether, switching on the bedside lamp, and then lets it dangle by his side. 'Good morning.' Absurdly formal, except for the small, uncertain smile.
'Good morning.' It's supposed to be awkward, the whole 'morning after' business. He knows that much. It's not, really.
He turns one hand over on the mattress, palm up. Zechs takes it, and then sits beside him. He's fully dressed; the pale grey Armani suit that he favours, and a narrow, dark blue tie.
'You look very smart.' It's a stupid thing to say but Zechs smiles at him anyway, and then those blue eyes sweep over him.
'You look…well, not terribly smart.'
Wufei can feel himself blushing – ridiculous habit – and forces himself not to wrench the sheet up to his chin. It's not like Zechs hasn't seen everything. Seen and stroked and kissed every inch of him. There's pure approval in the king's eyes; approval and desire and an utter tenderness that, after last night, shouldn't be a surprise.
'I think I prefer this look to the uniform.'
Wufei laughs, fingers curling more tightly around Zechs', as if he can keep him here, in this room. Even last night, there'd been some moments when he'd had to struggle not to think about the world beyond their bedroom door. It's all right now; just the two of them, but Zechs won't be able to stay much longer.
He can see the gold watch on Zechs' wrist and he knows the king's schedule backwards. He'd approved it.
'I very much wish I could stay,' Zechs says quietly, seeing him checking the time. 'I'm sorry.'
'I know.' He should have left already, but there's always an extra hour or so factored into the schedule, just in case. There's still a little time. He sits up, and Zechs pulls him into his arms. Wufei tucks himself tight into the king's shoulder, and Zechs strokes one hand down his back. He doesn't want this to end, doesn't want Zechs to be wearing the suit that he'll wear when he walks away.
Zechs' hand comes to rest lightly on his hip. 'Is it sore?'
'Yes.' No real point in lying about it; he knows it always hurts the first time or two. Not Zechs' fault at all; he'd been exquisitely careful.
Zechs kisses the top of his head. 'I want you to know…I want you to….well, rather, I don't just want…' he takes a deep breath. 'I would like to see you again. Very much. I hope you would like that also.'
'I would,' Wufei says immediately. It's not precisely surprising. Zechs had said things during the night that implied this wasn't to be just a fling and he's not the one night stand type anyway. This is unequivocal though.
Oh, dear gods.
'I'm very glad. I don't know, I mean, I get back on Friday morning. I don't know if you're free, you probably have your own plans for the evening, but I'm free. Well, I could be. If you liked.'
Stumbling inarticulacy has never been high on the list of qualities Wufei finds attractive. It is now, though. He can't help wondering if Zechs has ever asked anyone out before. He knows the rumours about Treize Khushrenada – everyone does – but they may be nothing more than gossip - and there's been no one since. The press variously puts this down to him searching for the one perfect person, or to his being too focused on his work.
He also knows what Zechs' Friday schedule is like, after five days away. Not a free moment anywhere. A state banquet followed by a charity ball at which he is to be the guest of honour.
'We could go for dinner somewhere, I thought.'
Wufei nods. The floodgates in his brain – rapidly constructed to hold out any and all thoughts of reality – are starting to give under the strain of all this. He's agreed to have dinner with a man who's probably the single most eligible, high-profile bachelor in the entire universe.
It's going to be insane. When Zechs ascended the throne, two years ago, the first openly gay monarch in Sanq, there were changes in the laws of inheritance; in the Constitution, to allow for a male consort.
The world's media spent months salivating and speculating over every man Zechs even looked at, and Wufei is in no way prepared for any of that. Reporters going through his rubbish; they do that, he knows. Digging into his past.
L5. Meiran. Treize.
Oh, Gods.
'What is it?' Zechs asks quietly.
'Nothing.' Wufei lifts his chin, looking at him. He's not prepared for any of it, but he's not remotely prepared to give this – this man – up either so that's that. 'I was just thinking.'
Zechs nods. 'I know. I'm possibly not the easiest person to …. be with, given who I am. I promise, I will try to keep you as…shielded from everything as I possibly can. It's not that I want you be a secret or anything,' he adds hastily. 'Just that it would be preferable to keep a low profile.'
'I know that, Zechs,' Wufei says, touched, using the name as if he's used it all his life. Well, he's used it plenty of times in the last seven hours anyway, said on sighs and whispers and one heartfelt, longing plea. Screamed it more than once.
Zechs sighs himself and, very gently, disentangles his fingers, looking at the time. 'I'm sorry.'
'I could come with you, to the airport.' He could, but it's a stupid idea and he knows it as soon as the words are spoken. He doesn't have any official reason to go anywhere with Zechs. He's not scheduled to be back on duty for the next two days.
'I would like to think of you here in this bed. If that's all right?'
That makes him blush again, and Zechs reaches over to touch his cheek.
'You're so very beautiful.'
He isn't, of course, he knows that, but he also knows it would sound silly to disagree. Angling for more compliments.
'You know, Wufei, you need to learn to accept compliments a little more gracefully,' Zechs teases. 'I suppose, I need to give you more practice. You're lovely.'
His voice trails off at that point, mouth occupied tracing kisses over Wufei's throat, and his flight apparently forgotten.
There's power here, Wufei suddenly realises, power he never thought he possessed. He's flown a Gundam; he's a decorated officer in Preventers. He's used to power. Not this though. He's not in any way used to the effect his own body can have on someone. On another man.
It's a pure rush of adrenalin, and he arches his throat and moans and tangles one hand in Zechs' hair, tugging him in for a kiss, and then he's flat on his back with Zechs over him. The kisses aren't even co-ordinated any more, just chance collisions of lips and tongue and teeth, and they're both fumbling at Zechs' belt, at the ridiculous buttons of his trousers, and all he wants is Zechs inside him again.
For the second time in seven hours, someone raps on the door. 'Your Majesty. We need to leave in five minutes.'
Zechs swears, far more fluently than Wufei had expected he could, cursing, in lurid detail, the ancestry, appearance and personal habits of whoever's outside. In the circumstances, it's understandable.
'Absolutely,' he agrees emphatically when Zechs pauses for breath. 'What you just said. All of it.'
Zechs catches his eye and laughs. 'I told you this was going to be difficult. Damn. Kings of Sanq used to be able to order people beheaded for far lesser offences.'
'The good old days,' Wufei says gravely.
'Quite. I really do have to go now, before some over-zealous guards decide to burst in.' He stands up, adjusting his rather rumpled suit in the process. 'I'll see you on Friday. May I call you before then?'
'I'll be most offended if you don't.'
'God forbid,' Zechs remarks, very dry. He actually takes three steps to the door, before he abruptly swings back. 'I hate this, leaving you.'
'I hate you leaving me too.'
'Yes.' He's standing by the bed, not smiling this time. 'I have wanted this, you, for a very long time. This was not how I'd planned it to be. It was unwise.'
Even though 'unwise' is probably the kindest term, it still hurts.
Wufei swallows. 'It was indiscreet, yes.' He's only starting to realise how much. A dozen officers of the palace guard saw him enter the suite, without being summoned. They never saw him leave. And he'd been sitting in the king's presence, very close, when the waiting staff came in. As much as he wants to believe this is a secret, it's not. People know.
'I didn't mean it like that,' Zechs says at once. 'It's not fair, leaving you when we haven't talked about any of this.'
He still hasn't actually left, Wufei thinks numbly. He clearly doesn't want to, and it's suddenly apparent that Wufei has the power – if he chooses – to make him stay. He could tilt his head to make his hair tumble over one shoulder; he could make his whole body into an invitation, an entreaty. He knows, now, how to do this.
He could keep Zechs here, heedless of the entire world outside.
He could.
He doesn't.
'It's all right. You can call me, whenever you like. And we'll talk on Friday.'
Wherever they end up. The palace? He can't really imagine Zechs making restaurant reservations, looking up on-line recommendations. But he'll probably have an assistant do it anyway.
'Friday, yes.' He says the word like it's a talisman.
And then he leaves.
He put on the clothes Duo had left out for him; jeans and a red sweater, both rather more snug than he would have chosen for himself. Maybe it was only fitting; everything else had changed, after all.
The sweater didn't hide the little mark on his throat, the way the collar of his uniform jacket had. Wufei gave himself a long look in the mirror. Outwardly, despite the clothes, he didn't look all that different. Just a small red blemish on his skin that could have been anything. (Other bruises beneath the clothes, but they were covered. A few places where Zechs had held him a little too tightly, had lost a little of his famous control).
His hair, still slightly damp from the shower, was tied back, but loosely this time, leaving a few strands framing his face.
He looked fairly normal, considering he'd wrecked his career, and was at the centre of a diplomatic storm, and had had sex (more than once) with the king of Sanque, and was probably going to be on the front page of every newspaper in the universe in the fairly near future.
He should have looked different, somehow.
He shouldn't have let Zechs go. He knew that now. He should have jumped out of bed, like someone in a romantic film, and thrown himself back into Zechs' arms, and asked him to stay, asked him to choose Chang Wufei over a conference on the rising taxation levels affecting smaller nations.
But he hadn't.
As he walked out on to the landing, the phone rang downstairs.
'Yeah, this is Maxwell. What? Yeah, he's here. Um, sir. You're where? Oh, right. I guess. Just let me check.' Duo came pounding up the stairs. ''Fei? Your boyfriend's outside! Do you want to see him?'
'What?' Wufei demanded, disbelieving, staring at his friend. 'Zechs? It can't be. He's in Brussels!'
'Well, unless you've got some other boyfriend, and man, I hope you don't 'cause this whole situation is fucked up enough already, yeah, it's Zechs. Will I let him in?'
'Yes!'
'Sure?'
Wufei swallowed. 'I am sure, yes.'
'OK.' He lifted the phone back to his ear. 'Yeah, he wants to see you. Two minutes.'
This was insane, all of it. Utterly insane. He watched Duo walk downstairs, heard the click of the front door, and then Duo's voice, strained and slightly higher than usual. 'Yo, Zechs. Yeah, he's waiting for you. Upstairs. Heero and I just wanted to have a little chat with you first. Like, ground rules, you know.'
Oh, Gods. They'd probably get themselves arrested for high treason or something. He couldn't hear whatever Heero was saying, but he could hear Duo making occasional, approving comments, so he was presumably issuing inventive death threats.
They'd all end up in prison at this rate, the three of them.
Then the door opened. Zechs came in, a little uncertain, very solemn, not quite meeting his eyes. 'I am so very sorry about all of this.'
'Don't. I already told Duo, it was entirely consensual.'
'Ah. I'm very glad about that. I imagine it's the only thing that kept him for shooting me, just now.'
'Something like that.' Wufei swallowed. 'You…shouldn't have rushed back. Really. You're supposed to be making a speech at the ESUN.'
'I'm supposed to be here,' Zechs said instantly, very decisive. 'After everything. God. Why didn't you call me?'
'I don't know.' He honestly hadn't thought about it as a serious option. Well, he had been tempted, for about two seconds, and then rejected it. Zechs was busy, off to make an important speech for his country's economy; he didn't need any extra pressure. Wufei was quite capable of managing his own life. 'You had other things to worry about, it didn't really seem appropriate to bother you with anything else. I would have rung you later.'
'I see.' Zechs' mouth thinned. 'We are going to sit down and have a talk about when it is appropriate for you to…. bother me. I would consider this would be one of those times.'
'Right.' It was a stupid thing to feel, but there was a little glow of warmth blossoming in his chest. Zechs was angry because he hadn't called him. Zechs was here, in his friends' house, in their bedroom, glaring at him. Here, not in Brussels. 'I wanted to. If that helps at all.'
'Not particularly.' The king of Sanq gave him a long, searching look from across the room. he hadn't moved from the doorway. Not just angry; he was furious, and Wufei felt it spark the same emotion within him.
'You shouldn't have come back like this.' That was it, then; there was no chance whatsoever now that they might be able to keep this…discreet, even for a short time. Everyone would know. 'I thought we agreed to try to keep this low profile.'
'And I thought there was some small measure of trust between us,' Zechs snapped back. 'Enough that you might at least consider calling me over something like this.'
'I can look after myself,' Wufei flared, and then thought about what Duo had said. It wasn't that Zechs really thought him incapable. That wasn't the point. Give and take. He'd just wanted to be needed.
'I'm sorry,' he said, more calmly. 'I'm not…I'm used to dealing with things alone.' That wasn't true, if he thought about it. He had his friends, and now he seemed to have a …to have someone else in his life.
The blond head inclined in a terse nod; apology apparently accepted. 'I imagine this is an exceptionally foolish question, but how are you?'
'I'm all right. Well, not really. You're here.' Once he'd said it, he couldn't stop the smile.
Zechs let out an exasperated little huff of breath. 'I called Commander Une on the way back. I informed her that unless you are reinstated, at your previous rank and with a full apology for how you've been treated, her organisation is no longer welcome to operate in Sanque, and certainly not to provide any members of my personal staff.'
'You can't do that!'
'I already did.' He was looking rather smug about it too. It was common knowledge that those two didn't get on, never had. Zechs had probably loved telling her that.
Wufei couldn't imagine it. He'd watched Zechs for two years, since his coronation, watched him become the king he felt his country needed, rather than a figurehead who happened to possess the right lineage. Watched him stand up in his own parliament and in the ESUN, arguing for the rights of small nations, of the colonies. He'd done it all with grace and diplomacy and quiet perseverance, and never once lost his temper or issued ultimatums, and kept himself under such control that it was almost a tangible thing.
He hadn't been particularly controlled last night. Oh, he'd tried. He'd been painstakingly careful at the start, clearly scared of hurting Wufei, and forcing himself to hold back. He could have maintained it all night, probably, except that Wufei hadn't wanted it, had wanted more than the carefully-constructed illusion Zechs presented to the rest of the world. He'd wanted the person Zechs to be the person he really was, for him.
He thought he'd found him, somewhere during the night, all that passion and fire and wanting, mixed in with aching tenderness and need. Some of it had apparently spilled over. His doing.
'That was very…' Wufei couldn't think of the correct word. High-handed? Chivalrous? Wonderful? Absurdly over-protective? 'Unnecessary,' he said quietly. 'I can't operate as your bodyguard any more. Not now. Not when I'm your….not after this. I would have handed in my resignation anyway, even if she hadn't….'
'Fired you?' Zechs interrupted, a sudden flare of heat. 'Had you taken to her office under armed guard and treated you as if you'd committed some major transgression?'
Wufei wondered, dimly, who'd told Zechs all of that. 'But I had,' he said softly.
'I was in the heart of Sanque, with half a regiment outside. I was hardly in any immediate danger.'
'It's the principle, though.'
'Principle be damned!' Zechs burst out. 'Can we at least be direct with one another for one minute? You know perfectly well why you were on my staff, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with my personal safety.'
He'd known. Well, of course, he had. He'd never said it straight out like that, though. No one had.
'I know, yes,' Wufei said softly. 'But my official assignment was to act as your personal bodyguard, and what happened, last night, was against regulations. We're not allowed to get involved. I knew that perfectly well. Une was perfectly right to dismiss me.' He was smiling again, for no apparent reason. 'I do appreciate what you did.' He wished he'd been there, seen Zechs being something other than polite and reasonable. 'Thank you.'
'You're quite welcome. You really don't want to go back to Preventers? I thought it was important to you.' There was the beginning of a smile lurking around his mouth; just a faint tilt at one corner.
He'd been worried, Wufei realised with a jolt. Worried that Wufei would take all of this badly, would maybe reject him as a result of it.
'It was important. But it's just a job. It was very important, after the war, to have something, something that I could do.' He thought Zechs would understand that. He hadn't let himself think too much about any of it, yet. About what it would be like to wake up and not have the uniform to put on. He couldn't go back, he knew that much, even if Zechs did force them to reinstate him. 'There are other things.'
'You are quite sure about this? I don't want you to end up regretting anything.'
'I don't think I will,' Wufei said honestly. There were things he would miss, naturally, but he'd survive.
'All right.' Zechs took a deep breath, and then a couple of steps toward him. 'It was very difficult, this morning, having to leave you. It's not something I want to make a habit of doing.'
'It was horrendous, being left. And… afterwards.' There; he'd admitted it.
'No one told me.' His expression was suddenly lethal; for the first time, Wufei could imagine him as a pilot, as he must have been during the war. Years before he'd become this taut, controlled, careful man, who permitted himself nothing, not even honest emotion, most of the time. 'You were dragged before some sort of inquisition and no one bothered to inform me of the fact until it was over.'
'I don't think,' Wufei said carefully, 'that anyone really knew what was happening.' It was a ridiculous thing to say and he quite deserved the look Zechs gave him in return.
'Oh, I imagine most of them would have some idea what might happen when two of them spend the night together.'
Wufei felt himself blushing. Well, of course they'd known. 'That, yes. But they didn't know…. that it meant something.'
Zechs looked slightly mollified at that, for about two seconds. 'I assume the members of my staff who were present treated you with rather more courtesy than the members of your own organisation?' He said it with an expression that promised retribution to anyone who had done otherwise.
'Yes,' Wufei said honestly, and couldn't help wondering if any of the people who'd been in the room with him still had their jobs. Lucky that the rulers of Sanque no longer possessed the power of decapitating anyone who happened to displease them, or there was a real chance, judging by this current ruler's current expression, that there might well be headless bodies floating in the moat.
The first hour, facing Une and two other high-ranking officers in Preventers, one summoned specifically from Luxembourg, had been hideous, but nothing worse than he'd expected or deserved. He hadn't even had anything to say in his own defence, no excuses to offer.
Things had got steadily worse with the arrival of the grey-suited bureaucrats from the civil service, and representatives from the palace. He knew some of them by sight at least; Zechs' press officer and one of his executive assistants and the Minister for Domestic Affairs.
They'd come in, bristling and antagonistic towards the entire Preventers organisation in general, and, in particular, the agent, who'd gone into their king's suite, off duty, without being summoned; taking some sort of unauthorised, unapproved medication. He hadn't come out.
It had been bearable, getting dressed down by his superiors for what was, at the very least, highly unprofessional behaviour, no worse than he'd deserved or expected.
Being dragged into the centre of this power struggle had been appalling.
No one from the palace had wanted Preventers anywhere near Zechs from the beginning; didn't want armed agents, following their own agenda, so close to their king. Having one agent included on each shift had been a compromise Zechs himself had suggested; a courtesy which hadn't pleased anyone.
This was the ideal chance to get rid of even that small element of Preventer presence. He'd just sat there, numbly, listening to the palace staff talking about reckless endangerment and unacceptable conduct and making the whole episode sound like it had been orchestrated as part of some sort of convoluted Preventers' plot.
Then, Une had tried to turn the tables on them, get him to admit that the whole thing was Zechs' fault, that he'd abused a position of power to seduce, suborn, someone under his command, bound to obey his orders.
Whatever he'd said in answer to that, or however he'd said it – he couldn't exactly remember any more - the whole atmosphere had abruptly changed.
No one, he thought, had genuinely believed him to be a possible threat to Zechs' safety, but the opportunity was too good to pass up; a heaven-sent opportunity to accuse Preventers of somehow jeopardising their king at worst, placing him in a compromising position at best.
They'd handled him with kid gloves after that, delicately shifting from accusations and blame to delicate mentions of how it was a personal matter for consideration at some point in the future. (After taking directions from Zechs, was what they'd meant).
He was the man their king had chosen to spend the night with, and that catapulted him from being a fairly anonymous bodyguard, a representative of an organisation they mostly disapproved of, into someone important, someone who mattered.
Someone who would presumably be talking to the king about all of this.
Protective, Duo had called Zechs, and it was perfectly true. Wufei knew how he felt about Sanque, about other smaller nations in danger of being absorbed whole into the ESUN, about the colonies. About Relena. Naturally, it followed that he'd be absurdly over-protective of the people in his life, and all the members of his staff clearly knew it.
There had been a few, hushed discreet questions, but nothing overt. Wary, speculative glances, probably wondering what Zechs – who could have had anyone – had seen in this young man. A colonial, a former terrorist, no one of any real importance, in the grand scheme of things. They'd been very cautious, very polite. They knew Zechs, these people; some of them had known him as a child. They knew that Wufei had to mean something to him.
Wufei shivered, thinking about it. They'd known exactly what had happened. Stupidly naïve of him, but it hadn't really occurred to him how obvious it would look. Of course, it was obvious. It wasn't like anyone would imagine he and Zechs had spent seven hours discussing the weather.
'They were all very polite,' he said quietly.
Zechs nodded. 'Good. I gather the commander asked you to sign a disclaimer about anything that might or might not have happened. She said you were … rather vehement about your refusal.'
It had been another insult; asking him that. Had she honestly expected him to rush out and sell his story to the tabloids? Wufei set his jaw, an automatic gesture to counteract the sudden blush. Dear gods, the look in Zechs' eyes, watching him. 'I absolutely refused, yes. I did agree, when some of your people from the palace asked, not to talk about it to anyone, until I'd spoken to you.'
'Yes, I gather that you were very emphatic with Une,' Zechs said, approving. 'I think you may have saved several of my staff from having immediate coronaries, and I do appreciate that. I imagine they would have preferred me to have a rather more decorous courtship.'
'Well. We didn't exactly do that.'
'No,' Zechs agreed, very low. 'Tell me what you want, please. I'm afraid you've already had a rather unpleasant taste of what it can be like, being with me. I will perfectly understand, should you wish to reconsider anything you said this morning.'
It sounded like he'd rehearsed it. He probably had. He looked lost again, bleached of the anger he'd been holding on to when he'd first walked into the room. Several times, now, that he'd looked so unsure, since he'd opened the door of his suite at midnight. Once on the threshold of his bedroom, until Wufei had reached out to take his hand.
Entirely consensual.
'I don't want to reconsider anything,' Wufei said quickly, taking the few steps that still remained them in a rush. 'It's all right. I knew, really, what it would be like.'
'Did you?' Zechs was holding himself stiffly, eyes intent.
'Well. I would have if I'd let myself think about it.' It was the perfect truth, and won him a faint smile. 'I only had another few weeks on your security detail,' he went on. All Preventer assignments were for two years only. He knew the reasons and approved of them, in theory. It had been possible, just, that Zechs might ask for his contract to be extended. It had been quite possible that he wouldn't. And there might never have been another chance to approach him.
'I know.' He'd relaxed, just a fraction, slumped enough to rest his chin on Wufei's shoulder. 'I was going to wait. I thought it might be easier if you weren't on my staff.'
Ah. That was what he'd been talking about then, that morning.
'This was not how I'd meant it to be.'
Wufei lifted one hand, stroked Zechs' gleaming hair, wondering what he had planned it to be like. Discreet and unrushed and romantic and very unlike all that had happened. He'd probably laid all sorts of plans for this imaginary courtship. Wufei knew him well enough to doubt if any of it would ever have really happened, precisely because he'd wanted it so much, and Zechs Merquise – King Miliardo of Sanque, the first of his name – never allowed himself anything that was just for himself.
'Well, I'm not on your staff now.' He ran a strand of blond hair through his fingers. He could do this, now, whenever he wanted. He'd probably end up on the front page of Hello magazine, looking soppy and besotted. 'So you're stuck with me.'
'It does seem like that, yes.' Zechs kissed him then, finally. 'I should probably tell you. I had a brief telephone call from Quatre Winner just before we landed. I'm not sure if I can remember his exact words, but the gist was that he'd pull all of WEI's investments out of Sanque if I didn't treat you in a way he considered acceptable.'
Oh, dear gods. He wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. Typical Quat. 'I'm sure he didn't mean it.'
'He sounded fairly genuine. And Mr. Barton issued some very inventive death threats.'
Wufei did laugh then. This was becoming a total farce, and he was seriously going to have to talk to his friends about boundaries. 'So, essentially, you're with me only because my friends are capable of ruining your country's economy and killing you in very creative ways?'
Zechs nodded, all that gleaming blond hair sliding over his collar. 'It's a terrible burden, yes, but I've been raised to sacrifice so much for duty and honour, I may conceivably be able to put up with you.'
Wufei sighed happily. 'You'll have to, won't you? You don't have a choice any more.'
'I don't want a choice.' Zechs, reached out, took his chin in both hands. 'All of what I said this morning, about us trying to keep this low profile at the start, that's impossible now. Too many people know.'
'I know that.' And should be concerned, but it was impossible, with Zechs' hands touching him. 'I really…hate the idea of all of that. Journalists and interviews.'
'The palace will handle most of it. But there will be a great deal of interest. It may not be terribly pleasant, all of it. Not so much in Sanq; the press tends to be respectful, and allow a certain amount of privacy, but I can't say the same for most of the world media.'
'No.' Wufei closed his eyes. Zechs's thumb was rubbing gently over his lower lip; he darted his tongue out to touch it and Zechs groaned. 'I don't suppose you have any remote castles? Just to visit, before it all goes crazy?'
'As long as you like,' Zechs said at once. He looked younger when he smiled like that; excited and decisive, with an edge of command to it. 'Do you need to go home first, to pack?'
'What? Now? Today?' He'd meant the suggestion for some time in the rather vague future, when he'd made some progress in reordering his life, when Zechs could find a way to clear his schedule for a day or so.
Zechs pulled him in for another kiss. 'Now. This minute. Or as soon as I organise transport.'
'You can't.' He knew the schedule; Brussels, Berlin, home for two days, then off to the United States. All terribly important engagements. Unmissable.
The third kiss stole all of his breath, along with most of the objections.
'I most certainly can. You're not my bodyguard any more, so you don't actually get any say in my schedule. And, just because you order me around in bed doesn't mean you get to do it all the time. Now, my driver can take you home, if you like, or you can borrow something from your friends.' His eyes drifted, appraisingly, over his outfit. 'I rather like that idea. There will be a helicopter waiting at the palace for us in an hour. Is that understood?'
'Um,' Wufei fought for words – coherent, decipherable words to convey that he wasn't going to be bossed around like this – but it wasn't easy when he had Zechs wrapped around him, and looking at him like that, so maybe he could put up with it, just this once. Anyway, it wasn't as if he was some peasant boy thrown over a knight's saddle and carried off to a lonely castle to be ravished. (Not entirely) The whole thing had been his idea, from the very start. The entirely consensual thing that had very definitely happened, and would hopefully happen again, fairly soon.
'All right,' he said softly, and reached out to tangle his fingers in Zechs' hair, tugging him down.