Disclaimer: Um, I don't don't own anything to do with Gundam Wing or the characters. I'm doing this purely for fun...no profit involved.

Post-Date Post-Mortem:

It was well after three am but the house blazed with light so they were still up.

That was both good and bad. I didn't much fancy being alone; I really didn't want to talk about what had happened.

They were on the couch, twined around each other, drinking vodka straight from the bottle and spouting what sounded like gibberish from the book on Zechs' lap.

'What the hell are you two doing?'

'Learning Russian.' That was Zechs, before he broke into another stream of incomprehensible syllables.

'Um, do I even want to know why?'

'Apparently, it's very sexy.' That was Wufei, obviously wanting to sound resigned and put upon but not quite getting there. Not with his boyfriend pressing him into the cushions and kissing his neck.

'Dorogoy, serdtse moie,' Zechs purred, sounding pretty damn sexy to be honest, and I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, they'd get distracted by each other and let me just sneak off to bed...

Nope.

'So...how was the hot date?'

'Um, lukewarm to start, turning to glacial by the end. And I don't think I can never go back to Steel.'

'What happened, Duo?' Wufei tugged me down to sprawl between them.

'He took me to dinner at a Thai restaurant, for a start.' They both winced and I couldn't help grinning. 'It's OK, I've already thrown up so you're safe. Then we went to Steel and he wanted a bit more than I did so I came home. Short version.'

Yeah, there was no way they were going to leave it at that. I could feel them swapping those couple-centric glances over my head, deciding which of them would get to perform the inquisition.

Zechs lost, diplomatically heading down to the cellar to fetch more Vodka.

Once he'd left the room, I could let myself just relax into Wufei's embrace. It still floors me sometimes, just how touchy-feely he's become in the last few years; partly the influence of a certain ex-Gundam pilot prince and partly all those aromatherapy classes. It isn't that I don't love Zechs or trust him implicitly - just, he's this incredibly hot, confident, alpha type and I'd prefer for him not always to see me at my needy, pathetic worst. It's different with Wu.

'How bad was it?'

'Um, marginally better than a firefight with a squad of Leos?' That earned me on of those flat, not-moving-an-inch-'til-I'm-satisfied glares. Sometimes, it's easier just to give in gracefully. 'He was pretty pissed, Wu. We were outside Steel and he started calling me all these names. I think 'prick teasing whore' was the most flattering. The bouncer - you know that huge African guy - had to come over and get him to fuck off.'

'The bastard.' That was Zechs, leaning in that casual-but-oh-so-elegant way of his against the door. No privacy in this household of compulsive eavesdroppers.

Then he was across the room and taking my hands, and his eyes were fixed on mine, blue as seawater washing over an iceberg.

'Duo, even if you were bare ass naked with his cock in your hands, you still have the right to say no!'

'Yeah.' It was a mumble, and I couldn't quite hold his gaze. 'Whatever. I know all that shit, Zed.'

Those long fingers caught my chin, tilted my face to look at him. He started to say something, then shoved the vodka bottle into my mouth, practically knocking out my front teeth in the process.

'Mil, I don't think -'

'It's alright, Wu. Really.' It was helping, burning a swift, incendiary channel through my insides, giving me something to focus on. I took another long swallow.

'What is with the whole dog collar thing anyway?' I mumbled.' Don't they chafe the skin on your neck?'

'Ben tried to make you wear a collar?' Zechs did a fairly creditable job of sounding horrified; bloody hypocrite. It's not like I don't know some of the stuff he's into.

'No, there was some guy outside the club, and he was wearing one.' I couldn't work out why I was obsessing over the bloody thing, it wasn't like it was the first time I'd seen anything like that, but the look in the kid's eyes still haunted me.

'It's all about power and abuse, isn't it?'

'You know it's not. Not always.' I hadn't realised I was crying until Zechs reached out and touched my face.

Brilliant going, Maxwell. Perfect way to end the night from Hell.

We ended up in some sort of group hug then; the sort that's all about comfort and reassurance and friendship.

'Sooooo. You want to go out and kill the fucker?' There was a glint in Zechs' eye that meant he was probably serious and God, it was tempting for the space of a heartbeat.

'Better not. You know. All these stupid peace time laws and all. Maybe we could just watch a film or something?'

The movie Zechs eventually selected, after some intensive channel surfing, was some action flick with lots of explosions and chases and improbable-looking marathons of straight sex.

None of us really paid that much attention to it anyway. I was trying to zone out and the guys were otherwise occupied. After a bit, I ended up sprawling on the floor when Zechs started to get a bit overly amorous; after a few drinks, he isn't always too fussy where his hands end up. I think I fell asleep for a bit; the movie was over and instead there was some celebrity lifestyle thingy, with the reporter gushing about a Gala Ball in progress on L4.

And on screen, Quatre Winner was smiling that polished, practiced smile as the pretty reporter simpered up at him, and wondered if he was ready to share the 'important announcement' he'd made earlier.