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The Challenge	By : Eliztric Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1501 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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So this looks like it might be the longest of my chapters thus far. Wow, huh? Well, things are falling into line, and I�m getting a better handle on the characters. It�s so tempting, to throw in a big office sex scene right now - because I like things that are kinky like that, don�t you? - but! I promised myself that Quatre would actually USE his week to seduce Wufei. Whatever that means, anyway.
And lookit me go. I have 115-or-so hits, and I�ve only been working on this for what? Three, four, days, maybe five? Iono. Does it matter? I think it�s cool! I especially think the three reviews I�ve gotten are pretty hip. Way to be brave, guys. I love it! And owe you cake like nothing else. Hopefully this new chapter will appease you in the meantime!
To Miaren Crowsdaughter - Lovely name. I know it�s random, but I like it. With that said, I�m glad I�m managing to remain on the positive side of the OOC boundary. That�s subject to change after this chapter, naturally, but I�m counting on you to tell me what I get wrong so I can rewrite the chapter as needed.
Hey! If anyone else spots me crossing the OOC line? TELL ME! Thank you. I don�t have a real beta, or the time for one, for that matter, much as I�d love to have someone proofread all this.
Back to Miaren. Thanks. I�m glad you like it. This? This is definitely my definition of tame thus far. And I�m glad that it�s got you intrigued as to what �racy� might be like. I promise to make it fresh and worthy of your time. None of this �pert nipples� stuff. Honestly. �pert�. What a word for it!
To Sankekorafi - Also a lovely name. I am very, very glad to hear that you are as fond of �Fei as I am. I adore him, but find it very upsetting that there are so little fics centered on him, or to do with him, or when he is involved he�s not�Wufei. Or he�s having sex with someone like�Duo. Or Zechs. Come on. 1x2x5 is acceptable, but about as rare as 3x4x5! So if you find anything good, I�d be greatly indebted to you if you would pass it on�*winks* Bonus points for being the first reviewer!
And lastly, but not leastly, The Reader - I am delighted to know that you like long stories, because at this rate, I expect it to be a while before we actually get to the lovely sex I have in mind (the sex that, you could say, founded this story) for these two. Erm, three. But Trowa�s currently indisposed, so two works as well. In addition, I�ve been having computer troubles. Stupid wireless connectivity�
Anyway! I�m also overjoyed to hear that you think this is going to turn out to be a good read. Thank you, thank you, thank you. �Good Reads� are what I pride myself on�amongst other �good� things.
The best part about all of these reviews is that they asked for more of this. And so, here it is.
Enjoy!
Give me a hint, and maybe I�ll take it.
-The Author

Quatre resisted the urge to give himself a congratulatory twirl in his revolving chair. He and Duo had practiced until Duo decided the blonde could at least pretend it well enough. It had taken him far too long, he thought, opening the file he had selected almost at random. Something to do with�well, he didn�t care. So the blonde made an effort to shuffle the papers while he pretended to read, briefly recalling the hasty practice Duo had put him through.

Unfortunately, it wasn�t so much a practice as a moment of torture. There was no way to envision the American as the long-suffering Chinese man, who was more openly dedicated to work than they were. Quatre sighed. It wasn�t that they didn�t all work hard�it was just that their reasons were different. They always had been. Quatre had his family to live for - twenty-nine sisters and an empirical business to run in the name of his father, and not terribly long into knowing the green-eyed acrobat, Trowa Barton was added to that list, though in a quieter way. Heero lived because he was trained to, until the last�but Quatre suspected that the Japanese creature who was the definition of rigid efficiency, had let his reasoning change subtly the moment he first encountered Duo Maxwell. Duo was equally affected, though he fought at times out of sheer lack of care about his own life, and others for vengeance, and others, just because it pissed people off. There was no way the obnoxiously loud and streetwise American could pretend to be Chang Wufei, because of that one factor - volume. Duo was loud and talkative, while Wufei seldom spoke, unless he wanted to respond, or had something vital to divulge or suggest in light of a mission��much like Trowa,� Quatre thought with a smile.

It was this that brought the blonde back to the office, so he could glance over at Trowa�s empty desk, right across from his, and two to the right. He missed Trowa, Quatre had to admit. �Because if Trowa were here, I wouldn�t be alone,� Quatre thought. �I hardly know what goes on inside Wufei�s head sometimes�what he�s thinking about. He can be so�unreachable.� He sighed, turning a page of the document he wasn�t reading a little more forcefully than necessary. Wufei was on a whole a mystery to Quatre, and the blonde didn�t want to theorize about why he was a part of their little faction of uprising, why he continued to be here. It was enough for the Arabian, that Wufei was still present and accounted for�but it did sadden Quatre, to think that Wufei�s obsession with restoring his honour (something, it seemed, at times during the war, he had much more of than he truly realized) was all that the Chinese pilot had keeping him going at one point or another, and it made it worse, to think that he hadn�t noticed.

�Get back to work,� Quatre muttered under his breath, shaking his head a little as if it would make his thoughts settle in their proper order. He turned to his laptop, flipping up the screen, to check his emails for notices from Winner Enterprises (which he had left in the hands of three of his older sisters and a few trusted, long-time employees, while he saw the Preventers to their feet), but found himself unable to focus on the words at hand, and had to read several sentences more than once. He growled in frustration, casting a glance at Wufei out of reflex, as if he could simply explain everything to the object of his impending obsession by telepathy. He did it often in moments like this, when it was almost too much, the effort to keep himself from going right over there (or wherever Wufei was) and knocking him to the floor before doing something senseless, like professing his undying love or starting a make-out session for no reason other than he felt the desperate urge to kiss Wufei so soundly the stoical Chinese man wouldn�t know what - or who - hit him.

And Wufei was looking right at him as Quatre was thinking all these things.

With a strangled moan of suddenly-realized despair, Quatre felt his cheeks flame as for certain everything in his heart came to the surface of his mind under the penetrating charcoal-black stare that made him feel as if he were on fire all of a sudden, from the inside out, thoroughly roasting for his thoughts, for daring to meet Wufei�s eye. But he couldn�t look away. It was impossible, Quatre felt, riveted on the dark gaze examining him curiously, confusedly�almost�but no, the blonde decided, biting his lip, not hopefully. It wasn�t, couldn�t be that adjective in particular. And yet, with the searching way Wufei looked at the blonde, Quatre could not help but feel that maybe it wasn�t such a bad thing, to have their eyes meet like this across a room after some suggestive comments had passed between two such as them. The seducer and the seduced. But who was whom? Quatre asked, lowering his eyes before lifting them back up again, just to see if Wufei was still there. Satisfied by the puzzlement that had creased the Chinese man�s brow as evidence of Wufei�s reality, Quatre licked his lips again, feeling his face flame hotter than before for one moment as Wufei�s head tipped to the side, regarding him at a slant, before he dragged his eyes away, back to his laptop, where for a few, intense moments the words he scanned his eyes over were nothing but a blur.

*

A few hours later, Wufei was alerted to the end of his shift by Duo�s sudden increase in activity. It was almost miraculous, he reflected, that Duo could hold still as much as he did - namely, remain at his desk for much of the day. It was probably helpful that his desk faced Yuy, who was quick to give the American a patented �Sit-back-down-or-you-die� glare and dole out another task for his partner, who was habitually quick to finish whatever it was given to him, be it food, a book, or a mission, whatever the mission may be. Still, Duo constantly was in motion at his desk, which seemed hardly big enough to entertain the braided man. Twiddling pens, doodling, folding up pieces of his paper (often, mission reports or memos) into creative shapes and showing them to Heero or Quatre, twirling in his chair, building things out of paperclips and tacks�the most remarkable creations thus far had been a �mecha-Godzilla� and a paper �Mothra� - whatever that meant, Wufei thought. The American had donated the Godzilla thing - which looked like it was supposed to be a miniature dinosaur of some unrealistic sort - to Heero when he had finished it�some kind of old movie joke, Wufei supposed. Whatever the case, there was no excuse for Duo pretending to gather up his things so boisterously as the cover for dropping off one of his folded paper creations at Wufei�s desk in the process of dragging Heero to the door.

�What�s this?� Wufei asked Duo as he passed by next. The thing looked like a flower, but he wasn�t sure. For all he knew, it was supposed to be Pompeii or maybe Abraham Lincoln.

�It�s a lotus blossom,� Heero said as Duo led him on, over the American�s loud exclamations of excitement that the workday was over and it was time to eat. �Count the petals.�

Chang Wufei didn�t know the number of petals that were in a lotus blossom, but didn�t care. If Heero said it was indeed a flower, than it was a flower. Though it really did look like it might be a volcano. A very violently active volcano. Not unlike Duo, Wufei thought with a smirk, brushing one finger across the delicate-looking leaf jutting from the base of the flower.

�Hey, �Fei!� Duo called, hand on the knob, �You�re riding with Quatre tonight, yeah?�

Wufei cast a glance at the blonde, who was busy cleaning up himself, in the middle of gathering some papers he had dropped at Duo�s sudden outburst. Bent slightly, Quatre turned his head in the direction of Wufei, looking up at him for the first time since earlier that day - Wufei swallowed harshly at the memory - and gave a nod to his raven-haired counterpart.

�Yes, Maxwell,� Wufei replied, �Goodnight.�

�G�night, Fei-Fei!� Duo called cheerfully, while Heero raised one hand in farewell, before following the American whirlwind out the door.

�I hate it when he calls me that,� Wufei growled to himself.

�It suits you,� Quatre responded, having come up beside Wufei�s desk and not at all on his soldier�s radar. Wufei looked up, startled, to meet aquamarine eyes, but found them focused instead on the paper blossom Duo had created.

�Pretty,� the blonde murmured, lightly fingering the pointed petals, a soft smile curving his lips and fondness in his eyes that made them sparkle slightly. �You kind of wonder where he learned it,� the blonde said, turning his eyes and his smile to Wufei.

�Yes,� Wufei agreed. �Very pretty.� he stood, still looking at Quatre, as he said this, all of his things sorted and packed up into his satchel, which he slung over his shoulder, so it rested against the opposite hip.

Wordlessly, Quatre picked up the flower and with gentle fingertips, placed it in Wufei�s palm, their eyes locked solemnly. Wufei found himself biting his tongue at the sudden sensation of skin against skin, the gentle brush of Quatre�s fingertips across his palm, over his own fingers so faint that he would have sworn he had imagined it�just as he would have their heated glance of earlier in the afternoon. So many things in that look, Wufei reflected, examining Quatre�s almost carefully blank face in memory. Worry, and frustration, and embarrassment, but most strongly, what had to be longing�Wufei knew it was, just knew it�because he had felt the answering chord within himself at seeing it on the Arabian�s face.

�What are you looking at?� Quatre asked quietly, turning his head a little to one side and returning the examination.

�You,� Wufei replied, equally quietly, letting the blanket of silence cover his thoughts again. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel it throbbing in his neck, as if someone had placed their thumb too tightly over the carotid artery in an effort to check his pulse. The question was, he thought, could Quatre hear it as well?

They were alone in the office, which was now darkening steadily, thanks to the night falling outside the windows, though it fell with the slow grace of a season unwilling to transition into the next - fitting, since it was nearing the beginning of October and it had yet to cool properly. Wufei hesitated a moment, unsure of whether he wanted the answer, before asking, �What�s going on, Quatre?�

�I have invited you to dinner with me,� the blonde replied in a voice that was just a touch breathy, �And you have graciously accepted. So we will go to dinner, you and I, and eat together, after we go home to change our clothes and put away our work things.� The blonde�s eyes were darker than usual, it seemed, perhaps reflecting the change in the sky outside, which was rapidly progressing from cornflower blue to a deep cerulean and then yet darker, bluer. �Why do you ask?�

�I�� Wufei began, unsure of how to express the building emotions and the thoughts that went with them in proper English. Mandarin wasn�t safe, either, he judged. No language was. Quatre was very sensitive in his way�and a very good interpreter of many things. So his small smile didn�t surprise Wufei at all, as he drew back and said, �You know, I think Heero gave him a book of origami once��

Only a moment was wasted on Wufei�s brisk return to the world at hand, and he maneuvered himself swiftly into step behind the blonde, who was looking at him over his shoulder the same way he had previously that day, but with a broader grin, that took the edge of unknown things off it, reminded Wufei of their friendship. So the smile that came to his face was easy, as was the conversation. �You mean Yuy left it out where Maxwell would find it.�

Quatre laughed. �You know, Wufei, I think you�re right about that.� he opened the door, leading Wufei down the hall, his own satchel swinging loosely on his shoulder. Without thinking Wufei stopped the blonde to slip the strap from the one shoulder over Quatre�s confused head, to rest in the curve of shoulder and collarbone on the opposite side. �That�s generally more comfortable,� Wufei said, before continuing on, making an effort not to berate himself for his actions. It was a thing that a friend would do, he reminded himself.

�Huh,� Quatre said, taking a few hurried steps to catch up with Wufei, �It is better this way��

Wufei looked over his shoulder at Quatre, who was a little behind him, and grinned as if to say �Told you so!� before facing forwards and saying, �So what was that this afternoon, Quatre? Heero looked very��

�Aroused?� Quatre suggested, opening the door that led to the stairs and beginning the descent, having shocked Wufei into falling behind him. As he reached the first landing, he cast a grin up at Wufei, who stared back like stairs were completely nonnegotiable at the moment, he was so stunned by this adjective.

�Yuy? Heero Yuy?� Wufei replied, beginning after Quatre quickly. �You can�t mean the same person as me. I know the three of you were down in the Archives for some time, but�� he tilted his head, standing beside the blonde. �What about Trowa?�

A pause settled. �Wait, what?� Quatre exclaimed. �No! No, no, no. No, Wufei.� He giggled here, and continued on. �No, there�s only one person for Trowa and I.�

A sudden sigh escaped Wufei, one of relief and a touch of regret. He had thought for certain�but no. It was alright, he promised himself. Trowa and Quatre were good for each other. �I�m glad,� Wufei said, �I was worried for a moment that you were going to proclaim you were having a threesome with Heero Yuy and Duo Maxwell in our archives moments before I came in to attain that file.�

They had gotten to the first floor landing now, and Quatre looked at him with a mockingly disgusted face. �Ew, gross,� he said, then laughed. �No, you and I both know they�ve only got eyes for each other. So much so that they don�t seem to realize it.� A laugh. �How on earth would we have gotten cleaned up so quickly anyhow?�

�Are you trying to lead me to believe,� Wufei said as he walked beside Quatre in the wide hall of the Preventers� Offices foyer, �That nothing at all occurred in that archives room, to arouse Heero �Perfect Soldier� Yuy?�

Quatre grinned. �Oh, no, my dear �Fei, not at all,� he replied, pushing open the double-doors that led to the front sidewalk. He reached for his cell phone and pressed a button, and began speaking. �Yes, hello. We�re all done. Thank you.�

In the steadily waning light Wufei turned to look at Quatre with his hands on his hips. �You are such a little tease,� he remarked, �And all this, after making me take care of it. At least tell me it was Duo and not you.�

Quatre rolled his eyes. �Of course it was Duo, Wufei. Who else?� At that moment their ride arrived - Quatre was not allowed to drive, nor was he allowed to cook, because he did both like he was still piloting a gundam. Today it was a stately looking black thing, with quite a shine to it. Quatre crossed over immediately, waving the chauffer back into his seat and opening the door for Wufei, before sliding in himself. It took a moment of squirming, but after a while, they were comfortable in the small backseat, and Quatre commanded, �Drive on, my good sir!�

�Yes, Master Winner,� the elderly man driving said with a nod, before putting the vehicle into gear and maneuvering them swiftly onto the road that would take them back to the Winner Mansion.

Wufei stole a glance at Quatre, who was sitting entirely too close to him. It wasn�t anything that they could truly control - this was one of the older cars the Winner Family (namely Quatre) owned, and therefore, much smaller on the inside.

�So how was your day at work?� Quatre asked, turning his head slightly. The Chinese man realized that if the blonde didn�t angle his face this way, casting his gaze at him at an awkward slant, they would be within kissing distance in a heartbeat. His own accelerated at the thought. �Not now!� Wufei whined mentally.

�Fair,� Wufei replied, keeping very, very still as he spoke. �The report is done and the maps altered.� he wasn�t sure if blinking was safe, but he blinked nonetheless. When he didn�t wind up with a faceful of Quatre, he sighed as containedly as he could, the action containing the question, �You?�

�The same,� Quatre replied, before squirming a little in his seat. His pale hand now rested on the Arabian�s knee, right beside one of Wufei�s own darker-skinned hand. The contrast in colour made him want to take hold of the smaller pilot�s fingers and lace them with his own, just to see exactly how the hues differed. And maybe because he was curious as to whether or not the rest of the blonde�s palm was as soft as his fingertips had been. With this thought in mind, Wufei rode tensely beside Quatre for the remainder of the drive home. As always, his eyes sought out the glow of the house against the sunset, the fiery reflection of the dying rays in the windowpanes. It was a fantastic image, tonight especially - like rubies on golden sand. This was what he had nicknamed the mansion - �The Sandcastle.�

�Pardon?� Quatre asked, dragging Wufei�s mind back inside the closed quarters of the slick black automobile and the scent of freshly-oiled leather.

�It looks like a sandcastle,� Wufei murmured, gesturing carefully at the window as they turned into the curved driveway that arced around a large, simply constructed wrought-iron-and-copper fountain, stained turquoise with age and weather, the house now on Quatre�s side. As the blonde turned to look, his hand slid up his thigh and brushed against Wufei�s own, before it repeated the action in reverse, resuming its proper place just above Quatre�s knee and the blonde faced him with a grin. �It does, doesn�t it? Hm. Wilbur?� he was speaking now to the Chauffer.

�Yes, Master Winner?�

�It looks like a sandcastle.�

�So it does. Master Wufei seems to be a bit of a poet, Master Winner,� Wilbur said, focusing on aligning the car properly with the walkway that led to the house�s front entrance.

�Indeed,� Quatre said, casting that mirage-like smile back to Wufei, his eyes glittering happily. �We should change the name.�

�You don�t have to,� Wufei began, �It�s f-�

�Nonsense, Wufei!� Quatre said. �Do you know how many of these places are called �Winner Estates? We should start tacking on roman numerals!� he turned back to Wilbur the Chauffer. �I�d like you to call the gate-maker and ask him to change it for me, Wilbur. The Sandcastle.�

�Yes, Master Quatre,� Wilbur agreed, putting the car into park before hopping out to open the door for Quatre. �Good evening, Master Quatre,� Wilbur finalized as the blonde slid lithely out of the compartment and Wufei scooted after him. �Master Wufei,� Wilbur added upon the Chinese man�s exit.

�Thank you, Wilbur,� Quatre said in reply. �Goodnight!� Wufei murmured the same phrase, caught by the small grin that was on the mustachioed elderly driver�s face, even though the chauffer wouldn�t look him in the eye even if he held a gun to his head. Shaking his own head, Wufei quickly caught up with Quatre.

�I think Wilbur was laughing at us,� Wufei announced solemnly as they walked through the front door. Quatre cast him a grin. �Let him,� was all he said, �I like it.� before he ascended the stairs. �See you at seven-thirty!� the blonde called over his shoulder, inspiring a revelation in Wufei that he had never had before.

�Shit,� the raven-haired man thought, standing in the semidarkness of the kitchen entry (much closer to the stairs to their rooms than the front hall), staring in the direction Quatre had gone, �Dinner!� With the memory of their plans in mind, and still haunted by all the curious things Quatre had done that day, Wufei raced up the stairs and turned in the direction of his own room. He needed to shower, and change - well, perhaps he could skip the shower, he had showered this morning. But change, definitely, and maybe he should let his hair down. Would Quatre like that? Wufei wondered as he stood in front of his closet, uniform and satchel abandoned at the foot of his bed. Why was he looking in his closet? It wasn�t like he had much of a selection thing going. But where were they going? Wufei wondered. �I hope this is suitable attire,� the Chinese thought, impatiently reaching for the first outfit at hand - a pair of dark, well-worn jeans that had yet to become riddled with holes, despite their use. They almost had a faint green tint to them, Wufei thought to himself, grabbing the first shirt that he saw. It was a silky-looking white button-down, Wufei realized. �Suitable, I suppose,� he decided, and changed quickly. A glance in the mirror told him he really ought to undo his hair. Upon the release of the tight ponytail, his profile automatically relaxed, and after a quick brushing, it fell to part naturally on one side, which Wufei straightened out with a comb.

�Do I really look that nervous?� Wufei�s reflection asked.

�Yes,� Wufei replied. The alternate-universe Wufei grinned from behind the glass - perhaps a little too ferally, Wufei thought to himself, trying to relax his smile. �It�s just dinner,� he murmured to himself, almost a whisper. �Just dinner, Chang. That�s all.�

The knock on the door nearly made him jump.
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The Challenge