Whatever It Takes: Book1 Time of Choices

Book1 Whatever 07



 


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Whatever It Takes – Book I: Time of Choices
Part 7 –Finding Common Ground
As time went on Zechs couldn’t help but notice that he was
beginning to enjoyed being around Treize. It confused him to no end, yet he couldn’t
deny that he actually was looking forward to those evenings he and the ginger-blond
general spend playing chess, billiard or just talking about everything and nothing. He
started to appreciate little things about Treize, like the man’s keen sense of humor.
Yet he was convinced that it had to be a result of him being
isolated most of the time. Max wasn’t much of a person to keep company with and s
s
rarely saw Antòn anymore since he was forbidden to go near the garagemansmans are social
animals, so it was only natural that he sought the companionship of the only person he was
able to socialize with. Treize was probably very well aware of that fact and took
advantage of it. At least that was what he kept telling himself, because it was so much
easier to accept that, then to admit to himself that he actually was starting to like the
general.
***
When Zechs came back from his morning run, he had made it a daily
routine to jog the inner perimeters of the estate to keep himself fit, he noticed the
black limousine in front of the villa. The hood of the car was popped open and Jeremy, one
of Treize’s chauffeurs, was staring at the engine with a lost look on his face.
"What’s the problem?" Zechs asked as he stepped
closer.
"I have no idea." The man shrugged. "I only drive those things I don’t
fix them. The engine started to stutter when I came up the driveway and suddenly it died
on me and now I can’t get it to start anymore. – Where is Antòn if you need
him? I paged him already twice."
"He is probably still at home. It is rather early," Zechs pointed out.
Jeremy moaned. " His Excellency has an early meeting. He is going to rip my head off
if I don’t get him there on time."
"We can’t let that happen now, can we?" Zechs
grinned. "Let me take a look maybe we don’t even need Antòn. It sounds to me
like you might have a loose power connection or something."
"You do know what you are doing, right?" the man asked skeptically as
Zechs upper torso disappeared under the hood. The youth rolled his eyes and began to check
the power cables one by one by removing them, cleaning the connectors and putting them
back on. One of the cables stubbornly refused to come off. Zechs pushed harder and
probably applied a little more pressure than needed. As a result his hand slipped as the
nut finally moved. He could feel a piercing pain as he cut the palm of his hand on
something sharp.
"Damn it," he cursed.
Ignoring the stinging he finished checking the last two cables then popped his head out
from under the hood.
"Give it a try," he told the chauffeur.
Jeremy climbed behind the wheel and hit the starter, letting out a sigh of relieve as the
engine began to purr like a satisfied kitten.
Zechs was closing the hood of the car as the general stepped out of the house.
"I thought I made it clear that I wanted you to stay away from
the cars." There was a slightly irritated edge in Treize’s voice.
"No actually," Zechs corrected pertly. "You told me to stay away from the
garage. And I’m nowhere near the garage, am I?"
Treize had a sharp reply on his tongue but then he noticed some rust-colored spatters on
the concrete at the boy’s feet. Zechs’ right hand was clenched, blood dripping
from between his fingers and mild anger turned to concern in a heartbeat.
"What happened?"
"It’s nothing," the boy answered evasively.
"You are bleeding, so it’s certainly something," Treize disagreed.
"I cut myself, but it’s nothing. Really!" Now Zechs sounded irritated.
"Let me determine that." The general pulled off his white gloves as he game down
the stairway, toward the boy. "Let me see," he demanded.
Sighing in exasperation Zechs held out his hand and opened it. Treize breathed in sharply
at the sight of the wound. It was a long cut across the entire length of the palm, but
with all the blood that now started to flow freely it was hard too tell how deep it was.
"Let me see you move your fingers." he asked, taking the blonde’s hand
carefully into his own, noting in satisfaction that the boy had mobility in all of his
fingers.
"Max, get me a towel," the ginger-blond man called over
his shoulder, knowing that the butler would be somewhere close by, and in Zechs’
direction. "You might need to geme sme stitches."
Moments later the servant was back with the towel and Treize wrapped
it loosely around the boy’s hand.
"Let’s get the wound cleaned so I can see if you do need a doctor."
The general took Zechs by his shoulder directing him into the house and one of the
upstairs bathrooms. The boy sat down on the rim of the bathtub while Treize filled a basin
with warm water and rummaged in the medicine cabinet for a bottle of antiseptic and some
gauze. Squatting down in front of Zechs the general started to remove the towel.
"You will get blood all over your uniform," the blond warned.
"Don’t worry, I have more than one set." Treize noted in relief that the
blood flow has lessened considerably. He started cleaning the wound with warm water,
carefully so he wouldn’t start the bleeding again. Reaching for a sterile compress
and the bottle of antiseptic the ginger blond man looked up at the boy.
"Tell me if it hurts."
Zechs nodded, teeth pressed into his lower lip, but not because of the pain. Only once
before had Treize touched in like this. Back at the military base, after those guards had
attempted to rape him, the general had cleaned the blood from his face. Back then the
contact had terrified him. This time the general’s touches sent shivers down his
spine for a completely different reason.
When Treize leaned in a little to get a better look, the musky scent
of the general’s cologne combined with the sweeter smell of the manshamshampoo
hit Zechs. Closing his eyes momentarily, he savored the fragrance that was both, spicy and
sweet, masculine yet mild, just like the man it radiated from.
"It looks like you won’t need stitches after all."
For just a moment Treize’s hand rested on the boy’s left thigh, but it was all
it took to send a rush of blood toward his groin, creating a stirring in his manhood.
Confused and afraid that the general might notice, Zechs withdrew his hand, jumped up and
"fled".
"See, I told you it was nothing."
Treize blinked. I wonder what brought that on?
"That doesn’t mean your hand won’t need to be
bandaged. Get back here."
"I can take care of it myself," Zechs answered. "You better leave or you
will be late for your meeting."
** Z Zechs uttered a sigh of relieve when the general’s limousine
pulled out of the driveway. His hand was dressed in a white bandage and since he had been
told not to work in the garden till the cut was sufficiently healed, the blond had
retreated into the study. He was sitting in one of the large chairs by the fireplace
reading a book… or more precisely he was trying to read a book, but he found it hard
to concentrate. His mind kept going back to what had happened earlier. He couldn’t
deny that he had enjoyed Treize’s closeness, the gentleness of the man’s
fingers, and it was no surprise that his body had reacted accordingly. But it wasn’t
supposed to happen.
What the hell is wrong with me? Do I have no honor and no regard
for the honor of my dead family? How can I allow myself to have feelings like that toward
Treize?
***
Treize was sitting in one of the leather seats in his shuttle lost
in thought, one leg draped over the other in a casual manner, his white gloved hands,
fingers interlaced, resting on his stomach.
Another two hours or so until the shuttle reached its destination. He had been gone for
almost a week and was looking forward to being at home again. He had spent way too much
time away lately. He even had missed Zechs 17th birthday. But the general had
promised himself that he would make it up to the boy, somehow.
The boy, Treize smiled to himself. I really ought to stop calling him that.
Another growth spurt and he will be as tall as I am. He is turning into a young man right
before my eyes and he is even more handsome than he was back when I met him, if
that’s even possible.
The general felt as if he was finally, little by little, starting to
break through those walls Zechs had put up around himself. He had been very patient with
the blond and finally his effort was beginning to pay off. He cherished those moments when
he was able to coax a smile out of the usually so serious boy or got him to open up a
little. But they had still a long way to go. Zechs still didn’t like to talk about
his past and became greatly defensive if he, Treize, tried to question him about it. But
he had learned to deal with that and even with those temper fits that Zechs threw
occasionally. What worried him much more were the frequent nightmares the boy was
suffering from. Zechs never spoke of them and the general didn’t feel he had the
right to ask. Still he wondered what it was that made the boy cry out at night. Sometimes
it was so bad that Treize wanted to do nothing more than storm into the blonde’s
room, take him into his arms and comfort him, but of course he knew that Zechs would never
forgive him if he did. Sometimes the boy was just too proud for his own good.
Dark-gray storm clouds were brewing overhead when the shuttle
touched down. Treize looked up at the sky as he was waiting for his limousine to pull up.
On a few places the sun was still breaking through the cloud cover, but there was already
a distinct smell of rain in the air. It looked like a heavy thunderstorm was going to hit
the area soon.
***
"Dinner is served, your Excellency."
The general looked up from his computer, giving the grey-haired man a polite nod.
"Thank you, Max. Let Zechs know I’ll be there in just a few moments. He may
start without me if he is hungry."
"I’m afrMastMaster Zechs won’t be dining with you tonight, Sir," the
butler explained. "He wasn’t feeling well today and retired to his room."
"Is that so?" Treize asked. That would certainly explain why he hadn’t seen
the youth since his arrival. "Did he eat anything?"
"I took the liberty to bring him some soup upstairs but he said he wasn’t
hungry."
"Thank you. I’ll check on him later myself."
The butler retreated with a bow and Treize finished up his report. He decided to check on
Zechs before he went downstairs. Outside the boy’s room he listened for a moment.
Everything was quiet. The general knocked, then opened the door quietly, expecting to find
the blond asleep. But to his surprise Zechs wasn’t even in his room. After a moment
of consideration the ginger-blond man went back into his office checking out the
boy’s whereabouts, finding him somewhere in the garden.
Well, he appears not to be that sick after all, Treize thought in relief as he went
downstairs to eat.
The general spent another few hours after dinner finishing up paperwork. By the time he
finally withdrew to his bedroom it was almost midnight. Treize opened the double doors
leading to a narrow balcony and stepped outside. It had indeed started to rain a couple
hours earlier and the air was crisp and clean. Breathing in deeply the smell of wet dirt
and flowers the ginger-blond man leaned against the banister and stared into the night.
Brows furrowed when he noticed a figure sitting in the rain.
Zechs?
Treize turned and headed for the garden, grabbing a jacket on the way out of his room. He
found the blond, wet as a dog, on a bench near one of the fountains.
"Zechs, what are you doing out here?"
The boy turned toward him, surprised. "Treize, when did you come home?"
"Hours ago. Max told me you were not feeling well. What are you doing sitting out
here?"
Zechs raised his hand to push a few soaking wet stands of hair out of his face. "I
had to do some thinking."
One of Treize’s eyebrows rose in surprise. "In the middle of the night, in the
pouring rain?"
The boy looked up at the sky as if he only now realized that it was
raining. "It wasn’t raining when I came out here."
"You are soaking wet, let’s get you inside," Treize suggested, hanging his
jacket around the boy’s shoulders, directing him toward the house. Max must have seen
them coming because he was waiting in the entrance with a couple of towels in his hand.
"I’ll go and prepare some tea," he offered, walking off into the direction
of the kitchen.
Treize could swear the man never slept.
When they walked into Zechs room the general became aware of something he didn’t
notice earlier. The air in was heavy with the sweet smell of flowers. It surprised Treize
somewhat to see a large bunch of yellow tea roses in a crystal vase on the table. Zechs
never kept flowers in his room. Following the general’s gaze the boy gave a wry
smile.
"I suppose I should have asked."
Treize frow &qu "Don’t be silly. If you want to put roses in your room by all
mean do so. Take one, take a bouquet, or take a whole bucket full for all I care.
It’s not like there aren’t have enough of them. "And with a look at the
drenched and shivering figure in front of him he continued. "You should change into
something dry and get in bed. I’ll go get the tea."
He left to give the blond some privacy and when he got back with a cup of steaming hot tea
Zechs was sitting in his bed. His towel-dried hair was still damp and darker than usually.
Treize sat down on the edge of the bed.
"Careful now, it’s hot," he warned as he handed the cup to the boy.
Zechs nodded in acknowledgement. He took a few small sips them put the teacup onto the
table by the bed. For a moment he just stared down into his lap and there was an awkward
silence. Treize was just about to asked the boy what was wrong when Zechs raised his head
and looked at the flowers on the table.
"42."
The general gave him a puzzled look.
"Today would have been my mother’s birthday,"
Zechs’ explained, voice was barely above a whisper. "She would have been
42… I think. I remember how much she loved yellow roses. It’s strange, but
it’s the little things I remember the most about her."
eizeeize looked at the boy. He wanted to say something, wanted to
express his sympathy, but knew it would only sound like empty words so he put his harm
around Zechs instead, pulling the boy against him in a comforting manner. He wasn’t
sure if he was doing the right thing, but when the blond didn’t resist he raised his
hand and gently stroke his head. At first Zechs only let it happen, but then the general
could feel how his body beto rto relax. He leaned into Treize’s embrace, bringing
their bodies closer together and put his own arms around the older man. For the longest
time they remained just sitting like this, silently, then Zechs moved even closer. It
caught Treize by surprise when the blond suddenly placed a kiss onto his neck, very soft
and very cautiously.
The general took in a sharp breath.
"Zechs?"
Zechs pushed back a little, bringing some dice bce between himself and Treize. Their eyes
locked for a moment before he leaned in and covered the older man’s lips with his
own. One hand behind the general’s head buried in the man’s ginger-blond hair,
holding him close. His tongue traced the man’s lips trying to coax him into opening
them. But when he realized Treize didn’t return the kiss he pulled back, giving the
ginger blond man a confused look.
"Zechs, we shouldn’t do this."
"Why not? You could stay here with me tonight, Treize,"
Zechs offered, his arms still around the general’s neck. "You don’t have to
go."
There was a part in Treize that wanted nothing more than to take Zechs, push him back onto
the bed and force his tongue down the boy's throat. He wanted to run his hands all over
Zechs silky skin, taste every part of the boy’s perfectly shaped body and ravish him.
He knew Zechs wouldn’t resist, would consent to everything and let him have his way.
But this was not how he wanted it to happen. He knew it wasn’t love and desire
that was driving Zechs into his arms tonight, but pain and grief. He couldn’t take
advantage of the boy’s vulnerability.
"Yes I do." Gently Treize freed himself from Zechs embrace and rose. "We
both know that. Good night, Zechs."
He knew he was hurting Zechs by rejecting him now. But it was better than spending a night
together and spending a lifetime regretting it.
***
The general was standing in front of the large mirror in his
bedroom, adjusting his uniform when he was interrupted by a knock the door.
"Come in!"
The door opened and Max bowed politely as he stepped into the room.
"What is it?" Treize asked without turning his head.
"It’s Master Zechs, your Excellency. I can’t seem to wake him up."
"It’s alright. Let him sleep in. He had a rather rough night," the general
told the man.
"No, your Excellency, I believe you don’t understand," the butler replied,
his usually flat voice underlined with concern. "He is just not waking up. I’m
afraid that he might be sick."

TBC
Author's notes:

What's to come: Part 8- Visions of the Past
Treize takes care of a sick Zechs. Things about Zechs' past will be revealed like how he
became to be Zechs Merquise
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