Disclaimer - they're not mine. Sad, neh?

Note - I have to thank Kaeru Shisho and Snowdragonct for being a wonderful target audience, and for their helpful suggestions, as well as everyone who's reviewed. I get such a kick out of hearing people are enjoying my very convoluted story!

Champagne and Confessions on Ice:

The library door banged behind him with a loud crack. He wasn't a person who slammed doors usually; Zechs and Duo did, constantly, but Chang Wufei closed doors as he'd been taught as a child, quietly and carefully.

Damn.

The library perhaps hadn't been the best choice of refuge; the room summoned up only many memories of himself talking to Duo the previous evening. It had been cheerful and cosy then, with a bright fire burning in the grate; now it seemed bleak and empty, with only books and paintings for company.

Everything was going wrong.

Everything.

'Dear one, what happened between the two of you?' Zechs' voice whispered constantly in his mind.

And he'd lied. Not that Wufei had Duo's phobia about never lying, but he'd always prided himself that he and Zechs had a relationship based on total trust and honesty.

Damn Heero anyway.

Wufei sank on to a footstool, hiding his face in his hands and trying to breathe calmly, Zechs had pulled his hair loose when they were sitting outside and some strands fell over his eyes; he found an elastic in one pocket and ruthlessly jerked the loose hair back, tight enough to hurt.

He didn't want to think about any of it, much less speak of it, but Zechs was his love and his partner and he deserved to know.

He was in the sitting room of their suite when Wufei walked in, standing at the window, turning as the door opened. One glance at his lover's face and Wufei was suddenly in his arms, being kissed firmly.

'Oh, my love,' Zechs gathered him up, settling the two of them on the couch. 'Please don't. Don't upset yourself like this. Can't you tell me what's wrong?'

'Heero,' Wufei whispered, and felt his lover tense.

'What did he do to you?'

'Nothing. He did nothing. It was all my fault. All of it.' Wufei swallowed. 'I need to tell you something. Just listen, please.'

It had happened toward in October 196. He and Heero had been part of a Preventers team sent to Germany to investigate a drugs cartel. The mission itself had been a success, but there had been complications. Local intelligence, supposedly accurate, had been flawed from the very start; they'd later found out one of the German detectives was implicated and had managed to delay the operation for just enough time for the chief suspect to make his escape.

There'd been a shoot out and two of the young men guarding the premises - both in their very early teens - had been killed and the two other agents had been injured; Anil Khan had taken a bullet in his shoulder and Sophie Anders had a bad flesh wound in one arm. They'd been rushed to hospital, but would be back to catch the special Preventers jet Une had ordered to take them home.

Rather than hang around the soulless airport for three hours, paying exorbitant prices for execrable coffee, Wufei and Heero had found a Chinese restaurant a short drive away.

The place, the Orchid Empress or some such nonsensical name, exactly fit most Westerners' ideas of such an establishment; pretty waitresses dressed in a travesty of traditional costumes and Japanese flower prints on the wall. The food was surprisingly acceptable though; at least, Wufei thought so. Heero hadn't eaten anything. He had spent the thirty minutes so far on his cellphone, dialling the same numbers over and over again.

'Maybe you should try calling his cellphone?' Wufei suggested finally. It rankled, to see the confident, competent Heero dancing attendance on that idiot, Maxwell, when he should have been helping Wufei with the first draft of their mission report.

'I have,' Heero glared at his own 'phone. 'Half the time, he leaves it at home. Or maybe he's lost it again.'

Wufei had nothing to say to that; in his opinion, Maxwell was probably sulking and refusing to answer Heero out of pique. Fool. Heero had called him just before the operation started, and Wufei hadn't been able to help overhearing. Apparently, Maxwell was in a strop over something or other. Honestly. Did he think Heero could just walk out in the middle of the mission to go and hold his hand?

'I'm worried about him,' Heero said quietly. 'Duo,' he clarified, lest there be any room for doubt. 'He said, when I called him before, that he was going to stay at home.' He picked up his 'phone again, stabbing at the numbers. 'I suppose he might have been called into work.'

'Is Duo there? Duo Maxwell? Oh, is he? Right, I'll try him there. Thank you.'

He excused himself and headed out to the small roof garden overlooking the airfield and the temptation was just too much. They'd both been fitted with ear pieces before the mission; tiny devices that fitted behind the ear lobe. Neither of them had removed them yet.

Wufei could justify listening, if he tried. He and Heero had worked well together; it was not unreasonable to assume that they might be partnered again on future assignments. In that case, surely it behoved him to know what was going on in Heero's life.

'Duo? What the hell are you doing? I left a message to say I'd be late; I thought at least you'd stay in 'til I called….not rush off to some bar …..Duo, I'm sorry, all right? It's not like I've got a nine-to-five job….I can't exactly call you in the middle of a firefight….no, I'm fine, we're both fine, I swear,….I'm sorry, truly……it's what I do, love…….yes, I know what I told you and I did mean it but….. What exactly is it you wanted me to do, just tell Une I had to walk out in the middle of an operation to take you to dinner? …. Oh, Duo, my darling, don't, please….'

Wufei fumbled to deactivate the earpiece with enough force that it fell out. Oh, dear gods. He'd never heard Yuy sound like that, that tone of mingled remorse and pleading and - affection.

My darling.

He'd never had anyone call him that, never had anyone speak to him like that. He supposed his parents had addressed him by pet-names when he was very young; Sally had never called him by anything but his full name, had never even abbreviated it the way Maxwell did. And he and Meiran had never indulged in that sort of nonsense.

So - unexpected, for Heero speak with such tenderness. Impossible not to feel that sudden twisting stab of envy.

Those two.

They'd seemed to fit, oddly enough, during the War.

He'd known they'd been having problems; Heero had never specifically said anything but he'd dropped enough comments here and there for Wufei to slot some pieces together.

Maxwell was working on and off for a disreputable security firm, which worked for some unsavoury clients. Wufei had researched the company on line. He'd guessed that Duo was drinking too much; he knew Heero had somehow managed to cover up some incidents; there'd been fights outside bars; a couple of car crashes, reports of Duo buying some sort of illegal weapons. Who knew what else he was up to? He was from L2 after all and everyone knew what that meant.

Someone like Heero undoubtedly deserved better.

Wufei had actually broached the topic with Winner the last time they'd met; under the pretext of being concerned for Maxwell. Of course, Winner wouldn't hear anything against his precious Duo. He'd merely commented that, after everything that Maxwell had been through, he needed a little time to adjust to this new world.

Winner was a fool. He'd actually had the effrontery to suggest that Wufei might like to talk to him, about any problems he might be having. The idea of it. Oh, he'd said it would be all in confidence, but no doubt anything he did say would somehow be passed on to Barton, and Barton was friendly with Heero.

It had - been almost tempting though; just for the space of a heartbeat, with Winner's hand on his arm, and those blue eyes fixed on his, and filled with compassion.

The last time person who had looked at him like that, as if he cared, had been Maxwell, on that awful night in the Lunar Base.

But it had been impossible. He wasn't some silly woman, who needed to broadcast every little problem to anyone within earshot. And Quatre was scarcely the ideal confidante; doubtless, he got up to every sort of sexual perversion with Barton, to the shame of his family and his ancestors. Quatre was Duo's best friend; how could he possibly talk to him about any of this?

Absurd, of course. It seemed like the farther Heero rose in Preventers, that Maxwell's life unravelled in some sort of inverse reflection.

They'd all been through the war, but only Maxwell seemed to feel the need to behave like some sort of juvenile delinquent. Wufei had lost more than any of them; his wife and family and home, and he didn't go around snivelling about it.

Even Winner, who'd so far forgotten his family obligations and run off to live in a caravan with Barton, had seen the error of his ways after a few months, and returned to take up his responsibilities, as was only proper.

He'd once thought that Barton might consider joining Preventers, had even suggested it; but he'd only received a long, considering look out of those unfathomable green eyes and the comment that his place was with Winner now. What else could one expect from a mercenary, really? The man could have found useful, honourable employment, but he all too obviously preferred a life of luxury as Winner's paid and pampered lapdog.

Wufei sniffed disdainfully at the thought of it, and then picked up his chopsticks as Heero sat back down. Wufei stole a quick glance at him. Someone like Heero deserved someone better; someone who could understand what drove him, someone who could be a real partner, a support. Not a liability like Maxwell.

What in the universe did Heero see in him anyway? He wasn't unattractive, if one overlooked the garish colouring and the ridiculously long hair, and he had a certain superficial charm, but nothing surely that would keep someone like Heero interested for long. Heero needed someone with the dedication and drive to match his own, someone whom he could respect as an equal. A partner in every sense.

'Is everything all right?'

Heero raked one hand through that fall of dark hair, and Wufei flinched, hating to see him so lost, so vulnerable. 'I don't know. I don't know why I can't ever do anything right.

'None of this is your fault,' Wufei stated firmly, unsure exactly what Heero wanted from him.

They weren't …friends, exactly, not as Wufei understood the term. He wouldn't presume to think of Heero as that, but they did spend time together, sometimes. Heero had fallen into the habit of visiting his apartment occasionally, and they would play chess, or sometimes go for a meal. They never really talked, though; not the way Wufei had overheard Maxwell and Winner confide in each other. They discussed Preventers, or politics, but never anything personal, not until those three days four weeks ago when Maxwell had gone AWOL and Heero had stayed with him for a night.

Heero had been frantic; Maxwell had apparently just left the house and vanished for no apparent reason. He'd taken time off work to help Heero search but Duo was the master at running and hiding and he hadn't wanted to be found. After forty-eight sleepless hours, he'd somehow convinced Heero to take a few hours off, that he was no use to anyone if he was dropping with exhaustion. He'd brought Heero back to his apartment, cooked them both a meal, and persuaded Heero to lie down, just for an hour.

It was still a source of guilty, shameful pride; that Heero had needed him. That he'd had Heero to himself for a few hours, with a little voice, enticing as evil, whispering in his mind that maybe this time Maxwell wouldn't come back.

'You heard what happened last week?' Heero was looking at him rather oddly; it was disconcerting, sometimes, how he sometimes seemed to guess what Wufei was thinking.

Wufei nodded. 'Sally told me.' Duo had half-killed two young men outside a bar. He'd claimed they were trying to assault a young girl, and he'd stopped them, but the girl had vanished, there were no other witnesses, and the men had friends who backed up their story that they'd been attacked without provocation.

Wufei had hacked into the files as well, and found they'd all been deleted. Officially, the incident had never happened.

Heero's influence. He was paying for it, of course; this was his third overseas mission in as many weeks. Une was helping with the cover up but she was making damn sure she got her pound of flesh out of Heero.

'You can't keep doing this.'

'I have to,' Heero sounded defeated, utterly unlike himself. 'I can't do anything else for him. He won't talk to me; at least, I can do this.'

'I'm sure he wouldn't want you to kill yourself,' Wufei snapped and the deep blue eyes flew open.

'What do you suggest I do?' Heero asked wearily. 'Allow him to go to prison? You know I couldn't do that.'

'I know,' Wufei echoed. That was the worst of it, that he did know. There was a debt there, between him and Duo, from the war, from the cell they'd shared. Heero had asked him to look after Duo but there was nothing he'd been able to do.

Just sit in the darkness after the interrogators had taken Duo and await his turn. It should have been him first; they'd actually started to unshackle him, but Duo had screamed and thrashed in his chains and he'd been dragged out first. He'd been broken and bleeding when they flung him back, an eternity later, not even bothering to chain him because he couldn't have walked anyway.

There was nothing Wufei could do for him then either. He'd checked Duo's injuries as best he could; none of them were lethal, although two of his fingers were broken as well as a couple of ribs, and he'd pissed blood for days after. Duo had tried so hard to reassure him that he was all right, claiming that he was fine, and it had been worth it to get out of the stinking cell for a bit.

He'd passed out eventually, desperately trying to braid his matted, bloodied hair with one hand, and Wufei had somehow tied it back while he was unconscious, knowing that Duo had drawn their attention purposely, knowing how afraid Wufei had been.

No, he'd never condemn Duo to that again. He knew far too well all Duo's fears about being restrained and helpless in the darkness.

'I would…..never permit that, either,' he said finally, stiffly, and Heero nodded, understanding. 'Sally did mention something about recommending a therapist,' Wufei spoke a little disdainfully. He had no time for such people; the refuge of weaklings who refused to take responsibility for their own problems, but Maxwell undoubtedly needed some sort of professional help.

Heero slouched back in his chair. 'She did. He went to a couple of sessions, charmed the woman into believing he was only there to satisfy his over-protective partner and she ended up calling me and asking me to make an appointment to discuss my controlling tendencies.'

Wufei couldn't help a brief crack of laughter. 'Typical. What did Duo say?'

Heero shrugged. 'He thought it was hilarious. He keeps telling me he's fine. I have no idea how he really is. He talks to Quatre, I think; he won't talk to me.'

'And yet you are killing yourself on his behalf,' Wufei noted. 'I know what you are capable of, Heero, but even you have limits. Duo would be furious if he knew any of this.'

'He never will,' Heero snapped. 'And it's not for much longer. I have already handed in my resignation, effective from the end of December.'

'You can't,' Wufei blurted, aghast. It was the only thing that made his job bearable, the chance to work alongside Heero sometimes. Without that… 'I - I mean - the Preventers need agents of your calibre. Une must have been furious.'

'You could leave, too.' Those blue eyes met his, utterly compelling. 'I know you're not happy there, we both do.'

Wufei stared down at his plate, mortified that Heero had noticed. And Maxwell.

'What else could I possibly do?'

'There are other law agencies. And you used to talk about going to university.'

Wufei shook his head. It was true that there were other organisations, but the Preventers were the élite; he would not shame himself by settling for anything else, not for a frivolous reason like unhappiness. As for the chance to study, that was a dream that belonged to his old life.

'Think about it,' Heero looked slightly uncomfortable. 'Forgive me, but Sally asked me to talk to you. She's very worried about you.'

'That is none of her business!' Wufei exclaimed, stung. 'We are no longer a couple and have not been for almost a month now. You know that. There is nothing left between us. I told you.'

It was Heero's turn to study the congealing mess on his plate. 'She is still fond of you, I think, and concerned for you.'

'There is no need for that. I am perfectly well. You may tell her so, and that I do not appreciate her poking into my life.'

'She's still allowed to care about you, 'Fei.'

'Fei. Duo shortened his name all the time. Wufei tried to ignore it; any complaints only resulted in even more bizarre versions but Heero never had. Not even that night.

'I said, there's no need!' Wufei snapped. 'I'm not a child, Yuy, to need some woman fussing over me.' This whole conversation was ridiculous. How dare Sally talk to Heero, of all people about him? He was managing his life perfectly well; he wasn't the one who was falling apart and needing some sort of professional help to cope. He was managing more than adequately by himself; he didn't need someone to hold his hand like Maxwell apparently did.

'I know,' Heero said quietly. 'We all know how strong you are. But we're your friends and we worry about you. Duo is always asking me about you. He thinks he's offended you somehow, that you never visit.'

'Duo!' Wufei flung the name between them like a curse. 'When are you going to wake up, Heero, and see what he's really like? He's a disaster and he has been since the war ended. If not for you, he'd be behind bars right now, disgraced, and that might make him see sense. The best thing you could do is to stop coddling him like this, and force him to face up to reality for once. He isn't worthy of you; he's hell bent on destroying his own life and he'll destroy yours as well if you don't stop sheltering him.'

'That's enough, Chang!' Heero was on his feet; very pale, his eyes blazing blue against dead-white skin. 'Don't you dare speak about Duo like that. Do you hear me?'

'I' m sorry,' Wufei began to stutter an apology. 'I just - I worry about you too, and I - I thought…I hate seeing what he's doing to you! You know that, you know how much I..'

'Don't,' Heero cut him off furiously. 'Don't say it! I could never imagine life without Duo. Ever.' He scraped his chair back and glanced at his watch. 'It's time to go.'

The flight home was a nightmare. Four of them on a Preventers jet; Heero had spent the journey engrossed in his laptop, Wufei had tried to write a mission report, the other two had been given painkillers and slept most of the time.

Wufei framed a brief prayer to his ancestors as the 'plane landed, taxiing from the runway into the Preventers hangar. He would have to fix this, now, or he would never be able to look Heero in the eye again. He would apologise; cite stress or exhaustion or some other excuse but he couldn't leave it like this. Not with Heero, whom he admired more than anyone. Anders and Khan were first off the 'plane, met by medical officers, and Wufei hung back, letting Heero collect his bags and leave first. He would talk to him once they were inside, with a modicum of privacy.

'Heero!'

It was unbelievably, Maxwell, running toward them, in the hangar that was strictly off limits to any but authorised personnel.

'Heero! I'm so fucking sorry! I was so worried about you; I didn't know what was going on and that bitch Une wouldn't even take my call and….'

Heero shut him up abruptly, pulling him into a deep kiss, ignoring the fact that they were surrounded by mechanics and other agents and swinging him off his feet, the bright banner of Maxwell's hair gleaming against his black leather jacket. Disgraceful exhibition! Maxwell at least had the decency to blush when Heero released him, but Heero obviously didn't care who was watching.

'I love you. And I'm sorry too.'

Still holding Heero's hand, Maxwell turned around, high-fiving Khan and blatheringabout how he wouldn't be able to play in some cricket match or other, and then leaning over to kiss Anders on the cheek.

'Sophie! Congratulations! Have you decided yet when the wedding's to be?'

Wufei felt an odd niggle of - guilt? He'd worked with Anders for months and hadn't even known that she had a boyfriend, much less that she'd become engaged. It was small wonder that none of his colleagues had any time for him. Anders was beaming at Maxwell's enthusiasm, fishing under her vest to bring out the ring she'd presumably been wearing on a chain.

'Where's Wufei, 'Ro? He's not hurt, is he?'

Heero shrugged. 'He must have left already.'

'Oh,' Maxwell sounded almost disappointed. 'I would've liked to have seen him. It's been ages. Guess he didn't want to see me, huh? Oh well. You ready to come home now, babe?'

'Don't call me that,' Heero reached out to tweak that absurd braid. 'And we're not going home.'

'No?' Maxwell grinned up at him. 'You just want to stay here and make out? That's kinda kinky.'

'I'll show you kinky later.' Another kiss; dear gods, didn't they need to breathe when they were doing that? 'I've booked us into a guesthouse a couple of hours up the coast. It's off season so we'll pretty much have the place to ourselves.'

'God, I love you,' The arm around Heero tightened as they turned to walk away but then he spoke without a trace of the flirtatious banter. 'I heard about the kids who got shot, Heero. I'm so sorry.'

Zechs tightened the arm around Wufei's waist, holding him firmly. He hadn't known quite what to expect, when his lover had walked in to the room, with that facing-the-firing-squad look on his face.

'You've never spoken to him since then?'

Wufei blinked, slowly coming back to the present.

'I - yes. Of course I have. I called him a few days later, to apologise again for what I'd said. He accepted it, he said, but we never really saw each other after that. We never worked together again; I don't know if he'd asked Une or if it was just coincidence.'

'The first night we were together, you told me you thought you'd been in love once. Was that Heero?'

A jerky nod from the black, bowed head. An unexpected surge of relief.

It hadn't been Treize. Nor the girl he'd married. Nor, thank the gods, Duo.

'I - thought I did, once, when I didn't know what it was like. Before I met you. I swear, you are the only person who has ever held my heart.' He said it bleakly, not quite daring to meet his lover's eye. 'I love you. And now you know how dishonourably I've behaved.' Wufei hid his face in his hands. 'I'm still ashamed, that I could do something like that, that I tried to destroy them. That I could betray them like that.'

'Oh, my love, you were so very young,' Zechs stroked one finger along Wufei's jaw line and tilted his chin, making him look up. 'Scared and confused and worried you'd lose the one person whom you wanted to care for you.'

Wufei nodded. 'That excuses nothing! I betrayed them both.'

'Not your fault. You must know that. They'd been having problems all along; Duo's told me a little about it. The wonder isn't that they broke up, but that they stayed together for so long. Dearest, two people in a happy, secure relationship aren't going to split up just because one of them is propositioned by someone else.' He pressed his lips to Wufei's forehead. 'Think, love. Since we've been together, hasn't anyone ever expressed an interest in you?'

Another slight nod, a definite deepening of colour across those amazing cheekbones.

'Were you ever interested?'

'Of course not!' Wufei glared at him. 'How could I ever look at another man when I have you?'

Zechs laughed softly. 'You see? None of this was your fault. It was inevitable, and now they have a chance to try again. They're not children anymore. Maybe they deserve a second chance, hmmm?'

Wufei let his head fall against Zechs' chest. 'What am I going to tell Duo? That I tried to - to steal his lover from him? He'll never want to see me again.'

'Oh, love,' Zechs sighed. 'Duo adores you, you know that. Anyway, I don't think he needs to know.'

'Heero might tell him, though,' Wufei whispered miserably. 'I swear, I never meant to hurt him, Mil. Either of them. I was just so scared that Heero would go out of my life and I'd lose him, the same way I'd lost everyone else, and I - he was the first person I'd ever..'

'Well, I think you have excellent taste.' Zechs' mouth quirked into a smile. 'He's gorgeous.'

'You - don't mind?'

'What - care that you'd been attracted to someone long before we met? Hardly.' He lifted one of Wufei's hands to his mouth and kissed it. 'Seriously, I'm rather relieved. I'd been worried you were still harbouring a fondness for that professor of Chinese literature you dated before me. And I don't think I could compete with him.'

Wufei groaned. 'I'm going to kill Duo. He's told you everything, hasn't he?'

'A few things,' Zechs grinned. 'Did he really take you to an exhibition of teacups for your first date?'

'It was very rare Ming Dynasty porcelain, and he had tickets for the official opening,' Wufei said hotly, and then started to laugh helplessly. 'You have no idea how much Duo teased me about that.'

'Oh, I think I can imagine. I wouldn't worry too much about this, you know. It all happened a long time ago. Heero's probably forgotten all about it. Give them a chance to work things out, hmm? We can probably find something else to entertain us, don't you think?'

'I'm sorry,' Wufei murmured. 'I know you had a special night planned. I've ruined it all, haven't I?'

'Not in any way whatsoever,' Zechs soothed. 'I can ask for dinner to be delayed for a couple of hours; that should give us time to have a small….appetiser first. If you'd like that.'

'Oh yes,' Wufei breathed, pressing closer. Zechs pulled him close for a kiss, using one hand to flick the hair elastic free. He was always throwing the bloody things out, but Wufei seemed to have an inexhaustible supply. The black hair tumbled loose, and touching it was a small seduction of its own. Zechs let his fingers tangle in the soft waves, teased and twirled the silken strands.

Oh yes indeed. He wanted this, needed it, needed to be shown just how much he was loved and desired. Zechs teased each button open, caressing each patch of newly bared skin. Wufei's nipples were proud little peaks, thrusting against the thin fabric of his shirt.

Warm lips alighted on one nipple; deft fingers captured the other, twisting, not quite hurting, not quite pain. As if he knew the very moment when Wufei could bear no more, he gentled, but the hot, wet mouth began to suck harder, an intense throbbing that made him moan aloud.

'Gods, Mil.'

'Shall I stop?' Zechs blew a little drift of warm air across the nipple his mouth had been suckling, and Wufei gasped. He stretched back against the cushions, the shirt loose about him..

'No!'

'No?' Zechs breathed. He kissed each nipple in turn and the warm, moist trail drifted down and down. Wufei moaned again, deep in his chest, and lifted his hips slightly. 'Shall we take this into the bedroom, dearest? I missed you in my bed last night.'

Wufei pouted up at him, eyes glazed with desire. 'It's such a long way.'

'But so much more comfortable,' Zechs pulled him upright, sending him on his way with a lingering caress to that perfect ass, followed by a teasing slap. 'I'll just be a minute.'

It took almost five, in fact, for the kitchen to send up his request, and Wufei was already naked by the time he opened the bedroom door, bottle in one hand and two champagne flutes in the other. Deliciously naked, in truth; that supple honey-coloured body lying sweetly against the dark crimson velvet of quilt and cushions. Beautiful. His.

And nothing was going to come between them.

'Bollinger 171?' Wufei leaned over to accept a glass. 'Duo's right, you know. You are a total sap sometimes.'

'A sentimentalist,' Zechs corrected. 'And only where you're concerned.'

'Like I said.' Wufei's mouth curved into a teasing smile, not so much an invitation to kiss as a direct command.

'I like it that we have traditions.' He clinked his glass against Wufei's. 'It's been almost three years, hasn't it? What shall we drink to? Happy ever after?'

Wufei echoed the words, softly and drank.

'Vile stuff,' Zechs pronounced. 'You know, I can think of only one way to render this remotely drinkable.' He leaned forward deliberately tilting his glass. 'Oops.'

Wufei's breath caught at the twin sensations of icy champagne spilled onto warm skin and then a hot tongue followed the trail of liquid, lapping it up and sipping delicately at the tiny pool collected in his navel, before wandering farther down.

Wufei's cock was a pale, elegant column of flesh, and Zechs' fingertips brushed a slow pattern along the length of it, feeling the rapid, insistent pulse of blood. Wufei arched upwards, and Zechs relented, pressing his lips to the throbbing crown, and then his tongue was everywhere, dabbing tiny licks around the shaft. Wufei gasped again as that supremely talented mouth swallowed him whole, swirling him into ever widening circles of desire.

Zechs drew back a little, twirling soft, silken kisses around between Wufei's legs, revelling in the taut, sweetly responsive body beneath his.

'Have you forgotten what to do next?'

'Just enjoying the view..'

'You could just get on with it.'

Never submissive, his Wufei. Not even like this. He was luscious as sun-warmed fruit, lethal as steel honed in flame. Zechs wanted him to beg, to scream his name as he climaxed, and to annihilate any thought tendrils of Heero that still drifted about inside that gorgeous head.

'Not just yet.' More kisses, an exquisite agony that was never quite enough, and then he finally took Wufei back in his mouth, excruciatingly gentle at first, then tormenting him with just a scrape of teeth against flesh, as he began to suck harder. Then he added stroking, teasing fingers into the mix and Wufei exploded into blissful, mind-blowing completion.

'I think I'm going to like being engaged.' Zechs pulled him up to kiss, letting him taste his own desire on his lover's tongue. 'I love you.'

'I know,' Wufei wriggled free of the warm, pinioning arms, sliding down the slim, pale body. And I love you. Let me show you how much? Yes?'

'Of course, yes,' Zechs purred, arching back in pleasure as his lover, his beloved began to chart his body with lips and teeth and warm, probing tongue.