Apple Cider

I
make no claim to any of the Gundam Wing characters. This story is written for
my, and hopefully others\' enjoyment and not for monetary profit.

Apple
Cider

by Michalyn

The
door shut firmly, bringing with it a bit of autumn breeze. Wufei shivered as
he unwound his scarf and hung it on the tall rack.

“Brr,” he smiled.
“It’s cold out there.” Under his arm was tucked a small sheaf
of papers.

Though they could easily
live off Treize’s sizeable fortune, Wufei worked for a translation company
on weekdays and sometimes in the evenings when Treize was away. They both understood
that despite their love -- perhaps even because of it -- the younger man needed
something to call his own: something to define himself by other than his relationship
with the former general. And with Treize’s love at his side, it was enough
for Wufei if his wealth lay in the simple distillation of words.

That’s what Treize
had done for him: sifted through the pain, anger and confusion in his life,
stripping away the excess until only something pure and shining remained.

As Treize rose and embraced
him from behind, a different kind of shiver seized Wufei’s body. He felt
warm and melting and yearning like all his muddled emotions had boiled to sweet
syrup. Wufei sighed. Outside, the leaves danced against the window in vibrant
splashes of color.

One particularly golden
maple, reminded him of Treize’s hair.

It was so cold outside
and so cozy inside that they decided to mull some apple cider. Treize added
the cider and the cinnamon and Wufei tossed in the cloves and brown sugar. Together,
jostling and giggling like schoolboys, they competed to put in the orange slices
and the allspice. When they were done they’d used up twice the necessary
ingredients -- half of which had gone onto the floor.

As the pot simmered on
the stovetop, they cleaned up in companionable silence.

When Wufei grabbed a cushion
from the couch and settled in front of the fire, Treize hung back a little.
He pretended to fuss with the cupboards and instead admired his lover.

Wufei was wearing a thick
russet sweater that was actually Treize’s. The rich color complemented
his warm complexion and there was a healthy, rosy flush to his cheeks. It seemed
to Treize that Wufei was surrounded by a sweet freshness, like a crisp, clean
breeze ... and sure enough, Wufei had cleansed his own dark soul.

About a month ago Wufei
had decided to let his hair grow out and already it reached past his shoulders.
Thick and wavy, it shone darkly in the firelight, soft curls caressing Wufei’s
chin and cheeks. That gentle curl had surprised them both. It was as if unrestrained
by the terrors of war something had bloomed inside of Wufei and unfurled in
those smooth, silky tendrils. To Treize it had been like being allowed an intimate
glimpse of his lover: something startling and unexpected and beautiful, like
falling in love all over again.

Somewhere a bird warbled
wooingly to its mate. The trees trembled, shaking their burnished heads.

Gazing at the gentle curve
of Wufei’ cheek and the swell of even softer lips, desire clamored within
Treize.

Treize touched his lover’s
shoulder. Wordlessly, he caressed Wufei’s palm and kissed the reddened
tips of his fingers. He found that they still smelled like cloves.

Wufei’s dark eyes
met his and they undressed each other right there in the golden blaze of the
firelight.

When they reached for
each other, their hands were both trembling.

Later, Treize and Wufei
recalled the forgotten cider. Looking into the pot, they found that it had cooled
to a pure golden richness. The color of life itself.

End