Title: Painted Crates
Author: Kiarene
Pairings: 5x13, 3x4
Rating: PG
Summary: Trieze is irritated.
Published:
Disclaimer: You know the
drill.
“Who was
that?” Trieze called out, keeping one eye on a boiling pot of pasta even as he
spooned in some tomato paste into the pan, over the frying onions, sliced
capsicum and chopped meat. He gave it a stir, covered the pan and turned down
the heat on the boiling pasta.
When Wufei
was slow in replying, he turned his head in worry. “Wufei?”
His husband
walked into the kitchen slowly, eyes down and thoughtful, biting his lower lip
in a way Trieze knew it meant that he was very worried. Wufei stopped beside
the fridge, leaning against it, and looked up. Trieze waited.
“Well, it
looks like we’ll be having a guest over for the next few days,” Wufei said,
combing his fingers through his ponytail. “Sorry, I agreed to let him stay over
before I checked with you, but—“
“You know
I’m not bothered by that,” Trieze broke in breezily. He eyed Wufei’s nervous
grooming. “But?”
“…oh, um.”
Wufei flushed. He fiddled with the tips of his hair.
Trieze
turned around, stirring the pasta sauce again and adding a dash of oregano.
“It’s
Quatre.”
Trieze
jerked, then cursed softly under his breath as too much oregano now dissolved
into the simmering sauce. Replacing the spice bottle, he turned to his husband.
“What?!”
“No, wait.
Let me serve the pasta first. At this rate, I’ll end up ruining dinner,” Trieze
muttered, holding up a hand, the other pinching the bridge of his nose.
Wufei nodded
and started to set the table stiffly as Trieze finished cooking. When they were
seated, Trieze looked at his husband again. “Let’s try this again…” His right
brow twitched. “Quatre Winner?!”
Wufei winced.
“He called me, said he needed a place to stay.”
“He’s the
CEO of the Winner Corporation. I find it hard to believe he has nowhere to
stay.” Trieze picked up his fork and twirled his pasta. It had too much
oregano, but otherwise, deliciously perfect as always.
“He said he
wasn’t ready to talk to Trowa yet,” Wufei said lamely, and started eating as
well.
“He can not
talk to Barton from anywhere in the world, or even off it. He need not do it
from our house.” Trieze realized he was sounding petty, but while Wufei may
have forgiven Winner, *he* would never excuse pilots 02 and 04 from their roles
in hurting his Wufei. “What about Maxwell? Weren’t they together?”
“Yes… er, I
mean yes they had been traveling together ever since they left, but they are
not *together* in that sense.” Wufei chewed, swallowed, and twirled more pasta.
He kept his eyes downcast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how awkward this
would be for you. But I just couldn’t turn him away, and he looked so depressed.”
Trieze felt
like a heel. Reaching over, he caught hold of Wufei’s wrist gently. “Love, I’m
sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in such a position. Of course I would support
you in whatever you choose. It is only for a few days, right? Sure, he can
stay.”
He smiled
gamely, pushing down his own feelings of ire towards the other Gundam pilots
and their god-damn relationship problems. Mentally, he repeated to himself that
he should be more understanding of his husband’s position. While the other
pilots had treated him badly during the latter part of the war, they were,
understandably, a very important, if distasteful, part of his husband’s past.
Like relatives. He thought of Dorothy and twitched involuntarily. He can do
this; he can put up with Quatre for a few days. On the bright side, if he had
to deal with one of the other Gundam pilots, at least it was Winner.
“Thank
you,” Wufei said gratefully, finally looking up at him. He smiled happily. “I’m
so lucky that I’ve such an understanding husband.”
Trieze knew
he wasn’t being understanding — he *still* didn’t like the other pilots but he
would do anything for his dragon. But he smiled back and released Wufei’s
wrist. Picking up his fork again, he asked casually. “So, when is Winner
coming?”
~
“Thank you
for having me here.” Quatre said, running a nervous hand through his hair
self-consciously. He shot another glance at Trieze.
“We have
space,” Trieze said coolly. He stood at the doorway of the guestroom, arms
crossed, as he studied their guest with clinical curiosity. On the surface, Winner
appeared well; he looked tanned and healthy. However, his eyes were dull and his
lips a little pinched — Wufei was right. Winner did not look happy. But Trieze
didn’t care, really.
Trieze
sighed and turned his attention to something a lot more enjoyable — watching
Wufei. He smiled fondly, thinking that his husband was really quite adorable. Quite
a perfect little host.
Wufei was
oblivious to the stiff atmosphere as he bustled around the guestroom, flinging
open doors and windows. “Oh, we’re glad to have you here. It was no problem at
all. Now, this door leads to the bathroom, and while the balcony has a lovely
view, the sliding doors are quite stiff. This house is quite old and we decided
to keep what we can intact. Unfortunately, this means putting up with squeaky
floorboards and drafty windows.”
The
guestroom was large and airy. The walls were painted in a creamy yellow, the
floorboards a lovely, weathered oak. There was a large bed against one wall,
and a wardrobe, dresser and desk against the opposite wall. The tiny balcony,
just barely large enough for a small wrought iron table and chair, overlooked Trieze’s
prized rose garden, which extended around half of the house.
The faint
scent of roses hung in the air. Already, the blooms are wilting; autumn is
coming.
Wufei
turned back to Quatre, smiling. “I know you must be tired after your trip, so
I’ll just leave you to settle in. Do you want to have dinner with us? Trieze is
planning to cook some Greek dishes tonight.”
Quatre
glanced at Trieze, who stood behind Wufei, a distant and bored expression on
his face, and demurred politely. “Ah, no thanks. I actually have a dinner
appointment tonight.”
Wufei
looked disappointed. “Oh, all right then.”
“Have a
good rest, then.” Trieze slung an arm around his husband’s waist and led him
gently but firmly from the room. The door clicked closed behind them.
“Do you
have to go into work today?” Trieze asked casually as they walked away.
Wufei shook
his head. “I took the day off so I would be free to receive Quatre.”
Trieze
suppressed a momentary surge of irritation. Instead, he led his husband into
the nearest room, which happened to be their library, and locked the door. When
Wufei looked up at him in surprise, he pinned the smaller man against the door.
“I must admit I’m jealous. All you’ve been talking about for the past couple of
days was Quatre.”
“Trieze,
you don’t have to be…” Wufei looked a little surprised.
Trieze
pressed a light kiss to Wufei’s parted lips. “Hush. I want your full attention.
On me. Now.” His hands rested on the small of Wufei’s back, rubbing in slow
circles as his voice dropped huskily. “I want you to think of me, only of me.”
Wufei
moaned softly, draping his arms around Trieze’s shoulders. “You know I don’t
like Quatre that way.”
Trieze
frowned. His hands slid down to cup his husband’s firm buttocks, pulling the
smaller man up and against him as he growled. “How dare you talk about another
man while I am with you like this.”
Lips, hot
and wet, trailed down Wufei’s neck. “I want to drive you mad, be consumed with
only thoughts of me.”
Another
soft moan. Like a pole dancer, a slim leg came up to encircle his hips, rubbing
and thrusting. Wufei peered up at him under dipped lashes. “You *do* drive me
mad.”
Trieze
groaned, a low, needy sound. “Gods.” Jerkily, he began to pull Wufei’s shirt
off. “I need you. Now. Naked.” What was it about Wufei that could reduce him to
a monosyllabic caveman?
“Hey,
wait!” Wufei yelped, crossing his arms over his chest in a vain attempt to keep
his shirt on. Trieze only thought it made him look utterly erotic, and growled
again.
“What if
Quatre overhears us?”
Wufei,
Trieze knew, was easily embarrassed. Even prudish. That was one reason why for
the first time in Trieze’s pampered life, they don’t have any servants in the
house. Otherwise, the ex-general knew he wouldn’t be able to get any sex. Trieze
groaned again, this time in horror as he realized that with a guest in the
house, their usual activities would be severely curtailed.
“Frankly, I
don’t give a damn.” Trieze yanked Wufei’s hair-tie off. “And what have I told
you about mentioning another man’s name when you’re with me, like this?”
“Trieze!”
Wufei shrieked as he was scooped up. Then he clasped a hand over his mouth.
Trieze
smirked, carrying his lithe husband over to the large sofa. “Yes, do continue
that. I only want to hear you scream my name.”
Wufei
blushed. And scowled cutely. “I won’t.”
“Is that a
challenge?” Trieze’s smirk deepened.
~*~