Venus Celadon

Duo sat on the vanity stool and studied his reflection in the lighted mirror as he mechanically dragged a brush through his hair. Naked but for a pair of boxers, his skin looked sallow and wan in the artificial light and he first grimaced, then shrugged.

“Not bad for 30, I guess.” He murmured, then he said a little more loudly, “Heero, do I have crow’s feet?”

“What?” Asked Heero, stepping from the bedroom to the doorway of the en-suite dressing room. He was dressed in formal evening wear but for his tuxedo jacket, which he had already removed, and his bow-tie, which was untied and now hung limply from the collar of his shirt. Despite his slight deshabille, he still looked elegantly suave. Instead of entering he held on to the frame on each side of the door and leaned into the room.

“Do I have crow’s feet?” Duo repeated, still studying himself in the mirror. Heero glanced down at Duo’s bare feet, then back up to his face, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“’Crow’s. Feet’?” He repeated, punctuating each word as though he might have misheard. “Do you have ‘Crow’s. Feet’?”

“Yeah, you know, round my eyes.” Duo leaned a little closer to the mirror to get a better view and narrowed his eyes into slits as if to concentrate his gaze. Heero now stepped fully into the dressing room and leaned against the door jamb, arms folded across his chest, one ankle crossed over the other.

“You know something Duo,” He began conversationally, “So little of what you say makes any real sense to me that I sometimes wonder whether it’s you that’s crazy, or whether it’s actually me. Do you have crow’s feet around your eyes? What on earth does that mean? Is it some kind of code?” Duo clicked his tongue impatiently and looked up at Heero.

“Crow’s feet, you know, little wrinkles..., here.” He indicated the corner of one eye.

“Oh,” Heero said nodding in final comprehension, “I see crow’s feet. That’s rather good, ‘crow’s feet’...” He then realised that Duo was looking expectantly at him, waiting for an answer. “No, you don’t have crow’s feet at all.” He said quickly.

He pushed away from the door jamb, stepped the pace or so across to where Duo was seated, bent down to his level and kissed him lightly on the temple. Maintaining his position so that their heads were level, his eyes met Duo’s in the mirror.

“Quite the contrary, in fact.” He added. “You have a fresh, youthful complexion.” He smiled when Duo gave a nod of satisfaction, then straightened his back. “What made you think you had crow’s feet?” He asked as he picked up the hairbrush from the vanity top where Duo had laid it aside and began to stroke it gently through his husband’s chestnut tresses. “Did someone say something to you tonight?” He asked, suddenly serious, the hairbrush halted in mid-sweep.

“No, I was thinking about Treize.” Duo replied. “The guy looked great today, I mean really great! Considering how wasted he was last night...”

“Considering how wasted we all were last nigh...” Heero interposed dryly, but not without a mischievous little smirk

“That’s true,” Duo continued, “But he’s what, 38, 39? I wanna look like that when I get to his age.”

“Yes, he looked good,” Heero conceded, “But so did Wufei. They looked good together..., very good.” This last he added in an undertone.

“Those suits they were wearing were just the greatest,” Duo enthused. “Only Treize Kushrenada could wear an evening cape and not look a complete idiot. Hey Heero, do you think I would look good in a suit like that?”

“I don’t think we could afford a suit like that.” Heero replied dryly. “Treize and Wufei undoubtedly did look stunning today though.” A corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smile. “Wufei should be pleased; he got the fairy-tale wedding he always wanted.”

“Well he certainly looked happy. Hey Heero?”

“What?” Heero replied warily.

“Would you agree to renew our marriage vows?” Duo asked sweetly.

“Renew them? You’re lucky I took them the first time.” Heero replied.

“Bastard!” Duo’s mouth puckered into an indignant pout. “So you don’t love me enough, is that it?”

“Duo, I love you to distraction,” Heero replied emphatically, “But I don’t need a lavish, expensive ceremony to prove it.”

“Yeah?” Duo spat, “And what if I do?”

“Do you?” Heero asked, striving to keep his voice neutral.

“Not really.” Duo shrugged dismissively. “Wufei and Treize did though.”

“Well they never had a proper wedding ceremony like we did and like Quatre and Trowa did. Well, ours was sort of proper anyway.” Heero added in an undertone.

“Why didn’t they?” Duo asked. “I would have thought that this sort of thing was right up Treize’s street. Anyone who’s anyone in high society dressed in their best and all gathered to pay court to him.”

“We don’t know Duo,” Heero replied sternly, “And until they see fit to tell us, we will never know. You know very well that that subject is off limits and always has been. Suffice it to say that it’s better late than never.”

They sat in companionable silence for a long moment, Heero gently brushing and Duo watching him in the mirror, then Duo spoke again.

“It was a beautiful ceremony.” He said wistfully.

“It would have been a sight more beautiful had SOMEONE not been blubbering throughout the whole thing.” Heero said pointedly. “I swear, between you and Quatre Winner...”

“Weeell, I was moved.” Duo looked sheepish.

“I wish you could have been moved.”

Duo poked his tongue out at Heero in the mirror, and was rewarded with a playful swat upside the head with the hairbrush.

“I’ll say this for Treize and Wuffers though,” Duo said, leaning back until his body rested against Heero’s as he stood behind him, “Those guys sure know how to throw a party. It was good of Relena to give her palace over to them like that. It was the perfect venue. Oh yeah baby..., that feels so good.” This last he added as Heero had laid aside the hairbrush, buried his fingers deep into his hair and had begun to massage his scalp.

“Good of her, or merely politic?” Heero asked with rhetorical cynicism, “After all, as much as he likes to play it down, Treize still wields a great deal of political power and Relena always did know which side her bread was buttered.”

“Perhaps,” Duo conceded, “But it was still a good party. Luckily the weather held so that the party could spill out onto the lawn. Wuffers was worried that it was going to rain and he has been watching the weather reports like a hawk for days.”

“He had a contingency plan up his sleeve in case of bad weather, so it wouldn’t have mattered all that much.”

“True, but that would have meant no peacocks and no fireworks.”

Heero’s fingers froze in mid-massage and he regarded Duo in the mirror.

“I think the less said about the peacocks the better, don’t you?” His fingers resumed their slow, rhythmic motion.

“Weeell...,” Duo said, grinning sheepishly again, “I was only trying to get them to open their tail feathers.”

“Duo, the opening of a peacock’s tail feathers is a courtship display. Chasing them around the garden was hardly likely to evoke such a display was it? It’s not as though they were likely to mistake you for a prospective mate.”

“Yeah, well the fireworks were good anyway,” Duo said, abruptly curtailing any further discussion of the ‘peacock incident’. “Not a cloud in the sky and a perfect view.”

“Yes,” Agreed Heero, “And the way the sky lit up with the Kushrenada coat of arms at the end was spectacular. I wonder how they did that.”

“I dunno,” Duo said, “But I’m sure Wufei does. He used to be quite good at pyrotechnics at one time, as I recall. And that... feast they laid on, it was the best food I’ve ever tasted.”

“Coming from someone who says that after eating a McDonalds Happy Meal...” Heero said dryly.

“I do not!” Duo retorted indignantly.

“Yes you do.” Heero withdrew his fingers from Duo’s hair, turned away and began unfastening the cuffs of the dress shirt he still wore.

Duo watched in the mirror as Heero divested himself, first his shirt, then shoes, socks and pants. The mere sight of his husband’s unclothed body had always been sufficient stimulus to rouse him, and this occasion was no different, already being well on the way due to Heero’s recent ministrations. As Heero stood, clad only in a pair of boxers as he was himself, Duo rose from the vanity stool and turned to face him, his need bulging from the crotch of his shorts. Without preamble he launched himself at Heero, capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, one hand around his neck, holding him close, the other kneading Heero’s buttocks and forcing their groins together.

Duo broke the kiss to whisper breathlessly, “Now, here.”

“Duo...” Heero began, but his reply was stifled as his lips were claimed once again.

They kissed for a while longer, but hero knew what Duo wanted and though reluctant, he knew better than to argue with his husband when he was in this primal mood. For Duo meant that he wanted to be taken roughly, just where they stood, no preparation or lubrication. He sometimes demanded this even though it meant soreness and discomfort for him, especially afterward, and would brook no opposition or refusal from Heero. Well, if that was what he wanted, that was what he was going to get.

Heero broke the kiss, pushed Duo from him and turned him roughly around so that the long-haired man was once again confronted with his own reflection in the vanity mirror, with Heero behind him. Heero reached around and, with a swipe of his hand, swept aside the assortment of hairbrushes and cosmetic paraphernalia that littered the lacquered surface. He placed a hand between Duo’s shoulder blades and pushed, forcing the other man’s upper body over and down. Duo braced himself with his hands, his unbound hair spilling around him in swathes of billowing chestnut. Heero deftly pulled Duo’s boxers over his buttocks, down his legs and first lifting one foot then the other, removed them completely and threw them over his shoulder, not caring where they landed. He also used the opportunity to part Duo’s legs, allowing himself access.

Heero himself was more than prepared. Even as Duo had kissed him he had known what would shortly be required of him. His own hand had stolen inside his shorts and had been stroking and pummelling his penis into life. Now it jutted from his body in a proud arc, large and swollen, purple in colour from the blood that engorged it and imbued it with life and weeping with anticipation. Taking it in his hand, Heero pumped a few more times and then, placing the tip against Duo’s puckered entrance, he pushed forward, forcing himself in with one swift stroke.

“Oh Jesus!” Duo cried out profanely, his sharply drawn breath clearly indicating the pain he felt, but as Heero hesitated, Duo began to rock himself back and forth. “Come on lover.” He murmured impatiently, so Heero complied.

He began thrusting, slowly at first then, once he was sure that Duo’s discomfort was not too great, he increased the pace.

“Yeah that’s it baby, harder!” Duo implored, so Heero, eager to comply, applied his hand to his husband’s shoulder blades once again, pushing his upper body even lower, until it rested directly on the vanity top. He then reached down and, placing a hand at the crook of Duo’s knee, raised one leg until it rested beside him on the vanity top at a right angle to his body. In this position Heero’s thrusts drove even deeper within Duo’s tight passage and the long-haired man grew even more voluble. As he listened to this litany of approval and encouragement, the thought passed fleetingly across Heero’s mind that for a relatively religious person, the names of Duo’s deities sprang to his lips at the oddest moments.

Their coupling was quick and intense, and as Heero felt his climax approaching, he withdrew from Duo altogether, but before the other man could voice a protest, he lifted him, turned him around and lay him down again, this time with his back against the vanity top. With his hands behind the crook of Duo’s knees, he elevated both legs, placed himself between them and re-entered Duo’s body. Holding the other man’s knees against his chest, began thrusting once again at a heightened pace, withdrawing almost fully only to drive himself in again up to the hilt. This drew cries of pleasure from Duo, which spurred him on. He raised Duo’s legs until the other man’s calves rested on his shoulders, which freed his hands and enabled him to grasp Duo’s neglected cock and pump it fiercely. They climaxed simultaneously shortly afterwards, Duo screaming Heero’s name and issuing a veritable fountain of come that coated Heero, himself and the mirror. Heero’s climax was somewhat quieter, if no less intense, and his spending was contained within Duo’s hot, tight passage.

He bent to kiss Duo, their tongues toying languidly with each other, and as he grabbed some tissues from a nearby box and applied them to the pools of semen on his husband’s torso he asked gently,

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah baby, I’m fine,” Duo replied shakily, “But let’s go to bed now, I’m whacked and my ass hurts.”

“Oh Trowa, it was all sooo lovely...”

Trowa had lost count of the number of times his husband had uttered this same statement that evening, but he was sure he could count them on the fingers of both hands. He said nothing though, allowing Quatre to continue.

“...and they both looked sooo happy. “I’m sorry I cried so much, but I was so happy for Wufei, for both of them.”

Trowa looked down at the golden head that rested comfortably against his chest as they lay together in bed, he sitting up against the headboard with Quatre lounging comfortably against him, and smiled indulgently. He placed a light kiss on Quatre’s crown before he spoke.

“There’s no need to apologise darling,” He said, “And anyway, Duo gave you a good run for your money, so I wouldn’t worry about it. You should try and get some sleep though, love. It’s very late and it’s been a long day.”

“Oh I’m not the least bit tired,” Quatre replied exuberantly, “I couldn’t possibly sleep a wink.”

“I’m sure I could soon tire you out.” Trowa murmured, dropping his voice suggestively. However, Quatre seemed to be miles away, deep in private thought. After a moment he sighed happily, then raised his head to look up at Trowa.

“What do you suppose they are doing now, Treize and Wufei I mean?” Trowa forbore to reply, he merely glanced down at Quatre, one fine eyebrow elegantly arched. “Oh,” Quatre said as he caught Trowa’s silent drift, “Oh yes, I suppose they would be.” He lowered his head and nestled against Trowa’s chest once more. “Do you remember our wedding night?” He asked coyly.

“I’ll never forget it.” Trowa replied with a wry grin.

“Neither will I.” Quatre said dreamily. “You absolutely took me to heaven that night.”

“I could take you there again if you’d like.” Trowa suggested in a sultry voice, but Quatre continued in his earlier vein, as if he hadn’t heard,

“It was all sooo magical.” He said, then suddenly he scrambled to his knees, somewhat encumbered by the springy mattress, and knelt, confronting Trowa with arms akimbo, “And I’ll never forgive you for not telling me about the balloon.” He spoke sharply, but the merry sparkle in his eyes belied his tone. He raised his arms, spreading his hands in a dramatic gesture, and began to recite melodramatically... “All the guests were assembled on the lawn. A hush fell over the crowd as all eyes followed the searchlight that scanned the night sky. Then suddenly, a snow-white hot-air balloon, bearing the device of the Kushrenadas, appeared over the palace rooftops. As it slowly descended, four ropes were hurled over the edge of the gilded basket, and four acrobats in gaily coloured costumes slid to the ground, performing a death-defying aerial ballet as they descended. On reaching the ground they guided the balloon to rest, whereupon the front of the basket fell away to form a red-carpeted stairway and, hand-in-hand, the happy couple disembarked and joined their guests on the lawn. Altogether a most unique entrance.” He finished with a theatrical flourish, and both men collapsed on the bed with laughter.

“You should have been a dramatic poet.” Trowa said when he had regained his composure.

“But you knew all about it and you didn’t tell me.” Quatre said in mock accusation.

“I’m sorry my love, but I couldn’t.” Trowa said, cupping the other man’s cheek gently as he knelt before him. “Wufei told me what he wanted and asked me to choreograph a routine for the acrobats, but he absolutely swore me to secrecy. He wouldn’t even let me give you the vaguest idea of what I was doing because he knew you would have wormed the whole thing out of me in no time flat.”

“No I wouldn’t have.” Quatre protested defensively.

“Oh yes you would have, you little minx.” Trowa replied fondly, pulling Quatre to him and enfolding him in his arms. “All you would have had to do was to bat those beautiful eyes at me,” He said as Quatre settled against his chest and smiled up at him, “And I would have told you anything you wanted to know.”

“Darling.” Quatre said and gently stroked Trowa’s cheek. “So that’s what all those late-working evenings were all about.” He took Trowa’s left hand and began casually toying with the three rings he wore on the ring finger. They were all love-tokens given to him by Quatre himself, one of which was his wedding ring. “I felt quite neglected. I thought that perhaps there was... someone else.”

“Never! Never, ever.” Trowa said with sudden vehemence. He flexed the arm that held Quatre to him, pulling him closer still.

“I know my love,” Quatre said, and he raised the hand he held to his lips and pressed his lips to the fingers, “I was only joking. You’re probably right though,” He admitted, “I could never have kept the secret. Not from Duo anyway.”

“And the other secret?” Trowa asked gravely.

“You mean what Wufei told me last night? That one I will keep.” Quatre said. “Poor Wufei, he’s so afraid. I so wish I could help him but beyond listening, I can’t do anything – no one can.”

“Not even Treize?” Trowa asked.

“Especially not Treize.” Quatre replied. “He refuses to confide in Treize, so Treize cannot help him. He’s trying to deal with it all alone, and it’s destroying him. Hopefully he will be able to relax and not think about it too much during their honeymoon. Wufei will have the second scan when they return, then que sera, sera. All we can do is be there for him whenever he needs us.”

“And pray.” Trowa added softly.

“And pray.” Quatre agreed. “Trowa,” He said in a syrupy voice, as he traced a random, circular pattern on his husband’s chest with his index finger, “I’m not tired, but perhaps you might be able to tire me out. Do you think you could take me to heaven again, just as you did on our wedding night?”

“A capital suggestion darling,” Trowa said, without a trace of irony, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Wufei lay wide awake as Treize slept. It had been a long day, and although bone-tired, sleep eluded him. The day had been divided into three parts, the ceremony during which he and Treize renewed and exchanged their vows, followed by a sumptuously lavish banquet, then a grand ball, which had been the climax of the evening. When they had finally left the ball, they had been conveyed directly to the marina where Trowa’s yacht was moored. By way of a honeymoon, they were due to spend a week or so cruising wither their fancies took them.

Once on board and firmly ensconced in their stateroom, they had fallen upon each other and had first made torrid, passionate love, then a little while later, gentle, tender love. Treize, fatigued by his exertions and the rigours of the day, had fallen asleep shortly afterwards, but not before he had taken Wufei in his arms, told him how much he loved him and assured him that whatever happened, he would always love him. At this point, all of Wufei’s pent up troubles, cares and fears had swept over him in an overwhelming wave of emotion, and it was with difficulty that he stemmed the flow of the tears that stung his eyes and blurred such vision as he had. He had clung to Treize as the older man held him in his arms, and there they lay, as the yacht cruised on, Treize finally falling asleep and Wufei remaining awake.

He now lay on his husband’s chest, rising and falling in time with Treize’s deep, rhythmic breathing, thinking. He thought about the day, about how it had definitely been the happiest of his life, how everything had gone according to plan and how it had all been just as he had always imagined it would be. He thought about the dreams that tormented him night after night, about his forthcoming brain scan, and what it might or might not reveal. He thought about Quatre’s visit to him the previous night, of how by merely listening he had dispelled all his fears. He also thought of Quatre’s only words of advice to him. ‘Wufei, trust Treize’ he had said simply.

“Treize...,” He shook the man’s shoulder. “Treize, are you awake?” He asked, pitching his voice at a speaking volume. Treize stirred beneath him, then after a moment or so he replied sleepily,

“I am now, my pet. What is it, are you not feeling well?” He reached up and switched on the reading lamp above his head. He blinked once or twice as his eyes accommodated to the sudden glare, then he looked at Wufei with concern.

“No, I’m fine.” Wufei replied. “I just wanted to ask you something.”

“Ask away, sweet.” Treize said, his voice still hoarse from sleep. He stroked Wufei’s hair gently.

“They say that a trouble shared is a trouble halved, do you think that this is true?”

“Undoubtedly.” Treize replied without hesitation, and if he thought the question a strange one to be woken up from sleep and asked in the middle of the night, he gave no sign.

“In that case,” Wufei said, “I have something to tell you.”