Web hosting Custom Email SiteBuilder

Act One- The book of four emperors

 Wufei reached out with hesitant fingers toward the book sitting innocently on the shelf. For some reason he had the eerie feeling that he was about to unleash Armageddon on the world or something of equal measure. Such was not the case at all. He was simply going to pick up a book and read it. He was the only one that –could- read the little thing anyway.

 When he had been younger he hadn’t spent all of his time training. Quite the opposite, he had loved books and literature. He still did and  had his nose in a book whenever time permitted him the luxury of doing so. With missions going the way that they were he barely had time to sit down. Trowa had told him about the book earlier in the week. The stoic and emerald eyed pilot had mentioned something about a collector’s item that he had acquired. Trowa was possibly the only other person in the household that would be able to even slight sense of the neat and yet completely unintelligible script that the book was written in.

 It was the perfect day to sit outside and read. The sun was angled at such a place in the horizon where, if he sat with his back to it, he would be warm and would have ample reading light. The buttery, golden fingers crept over the crimson of the carpet, beckoning him outside silently with the siren allure of serenity and quiet. Almost uncertain of himself and yet with an air of finality Wufei grabbed the small volume. Nothing happened. He laughed at himself quietly for his earlier apprehension and tucked the small volume under one arm so that he could make his way outside. Halfway through the small living room of his safe house he stopped and looked at the couch. Although the out-of-doors almost screamed out to him he paused and instead decided to stay inside and read there.
 

Duo lounged quietly in Heero’s arms, a flushed cheek resting against the slightly sweaty chest of his Japanese lover. They’d only been together for a month now, but the sex was amazing. A post-orgasmic smile lingered on his lips. Wistfully he kissed the nearest skin close to him, an area right under Heero’s collar bone.

“You’re really too much fun babe.”

 Heero raised his head ever-so-slightly and raised an eyebrow at Duo. After he felt that he had given Duo ‘the look’ long enough he let his head drop again, his hair whispering against the cloth of the pillow. Without saying a word he wrapped his arms loosely about Duo’s bare waist, running his fingers in a mindless rhythm over his skin. He smiled slightly as he heard the Deathscythe pilot giggle quietly. He had forgotten just how hyper-sensitive to touch the boy was. What drove them together wasn’t quite lust, nor was it love, but a mutual need and a close companionship combined together to form something almost perfect. Had it been perfect then both boys would have suspected it from the beginning, but it was ‘almost’ perfect. That was the best way for their relationship to be.

 Duo pulled the sheet up over them both. “’m tired, I’m going to sleep ‘kay? Why am I telling you this? ‘cause you’re my pillow now and if you move and wake me up I’m going to kick your ass.”

 Heero made a small sound of approval or dismissal, one or the other and closed his eyes as well. He couldn’t understand why Duo seemed to be slightly tense. Usually right after sex Duo was just one giant heap of skin, loosely shaped into a man. With ears trained to hear every whisper of movement around him Heero caught Duo reciting a prayer.

“…and if I die before I wake…”

 He smirked quietly and let Duo’s words flow past his mind, he didn’t want to hear the prayer. For all intensive purposes he was an atheist until he found something more solid to believe in than his mission. As he dozed off he found himself holding Duo just a little tighter, wondering why he had the curious feeling that they would part sometime soon.

 Quatre was reading quietly in the corner. This much Trowa observed from a casual observation of his best friend. He wished desperately that the little blonde would be more than that, but he wasn’t one to voice his wishes. That sort of a thing tended to get him in trouble in the past.