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"Incoming"Written By: Clara Barton Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. Rating: NC 17 A/N: ALSO, my inspiration for Meilin's costume is posted on my tumblr page if you want to take a look. A/N: Thank you, as always, to Ro for the beta reading! And to Maeve, for beta reading and supporting me! You both are so so amazing and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: language, sex Pairings: 3x5xM, 5xM, (past)5xMx2,(past) 5xMxR
"Incoming" "I think we should ask him out." Wufei, leafing through the cookbook and trying to find the recipe for Coq Au Vin, looked up at the sound of Meilin's voice as his wife entered the kitchen. He found himself staring at her, her statement forgotten and his need to find the recipe evaporated as he looked at her, completely captivated. It wasn't that he didn't find her attractive and mesmerizing normally - he did to an annoyingly distracting extent sometimes - but now. Now she was dressed in a black lace dress that barely covered her thighs and seemed more sheer than solid - with panels of thin black feather fringe that barely allowed Wufei to even think of the scrap of fabric as a dress. She was also, he couldn't help but notice, wearing black heels - and Meilin, a woman who routinely listed high-heeled shoes as among the five worst things the patriarchy had cursed women with, never wore heels. She was also wearing black satin gloves that extended past her elbows and a black feather headband. "What are you wearing?" He finally managed to form a coherent thought after he forced himself to look away from the way the lacy fabric hugged the subtle curve of Meilin's small breasts. Meilin's lips, painted a dark red, curved into a smirk, and he couldn't help but notice how luminous her eyes were, rimmed with black liner. "My costume…" She looked him over, from the rolled-up sleeves of his lavender dress shirt, his gray trousers and the black apron he wore over them, and then back to his face and the reading glasses he had perched on his nose. "I'm assuming you aren't going to dress up after all?" Wufei gave her an exasperated look. "I'm not going to dress up just to hand out toxic waste to children." Meilin raised an eyebrow. "I thought we agreed to hand out the Reese's Cups instead of the toxic waste." Wufei sighed. "Those are the toxic waste. The amount of-" Meilin groaned and stepped forward, placing one gloved finger over his lips. "Stop. If I have to hear you launch into yet another tirade about poisonous food, I swear I will just eat Twix for the next year." Wufei glared at her. "You are a surgeon - don't you care about-" "Of course I care! But I also believe in moderation, and celebration. Let the little hellions gorge themselves on candy one night a year, and I bet they'll get so sick afterwards that they stay away from it for weeks, if not months." Wufei snorted and shook his head in disagreement, but he didn't pursue the argument - Meilin might not be his equal in a verbal debate, but she was more than his match in determination. If he tried to lecture her on the evils of heavily-processed, plastic-wrapped and preservative-coated candy, she would, he was positive, truly spend the next year eating nothing but Twix. "Anyway," Meilin stepped back and turned around, looking at him coyly over her shoulder as she spun. "What do you think of my costume?" "I'm not sure it's appropriate for children." She rolled her eyes at him. "Wufei, for someone as sexually adventurous as you are, you are an incredible prude. I'm hardly showing any cleavage-" "The dress barely covers your ass," Wufei pointed out. Meilin ran her hands down to the hem of the dress, her fingers playing with the feathery black fringe and lifting it slowly, tantalizingly, until she revealed a lacy black thong. Wufei's fingers practically itched to replace Meilin's. "I think it covers plenty," she said, and dropped the hem with another smirk. Wufei glared at her, but she walked back to him and pressed a light, teasing kiss to his lips. She started to pull away, but Wufei wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, trapping her between the kitchen island and his thighs. Her dark eyes widened and her lips parted - her anticipation clear - and Wufei allowed himself a smirk of his own as he leaned in close and her eyes fluttered shut. He passed by her lips, pressing a kiss to her jaw and then working his way down her throat, to her pulse point, where he kissed the skin before licking and then biting at the skittering vein just below. Meilin made a soft, needy whine, and her fingers curled into his back. Wufei pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the spot before moving lower - while he liked to mark Meilin's sensitive skin and she had always enjoyed being able to trace over the lingering signs of his affection days later, neither of them wanted to invite the interest or unwanted comments of their colleagues and neighbors. He kissed his way across her collarbone and then lower, the feathery fringe of her dress tickling against his chin as he moved towards the v of fabric over her breasts. Meilin, meanwhile, shifted against him, clearly impatient with Wufei's slow pace, and he smirked against her skin, kissing it again before pulling back to look at her. "Yes?" he asked, keeping his voice mild. "You're such a cock-tease," she complained, shifting her hands lower, to his waist, and pulling his body flush to hers. The feel of his half-hard cock nudging her thighs made her eyes glimmer with satisfaction, and she leaned forward to kiss him on the mouth. Wufei couldn't help but notice that, in her heels, all she had to do was tilt her head upwards to capture his mouth, instead of her normal war with gravity as she stood on her toes and, usually, grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him halfway to her. Meilin's lips were soft, and he was sure her dark lipstick would be smeared all over his mouth after this kiss - another thing they both enjoyed. There had been times when Meilin had left Wufei's body covered in red, and a few times when Wufei had returned the favor, choosing Meilin's bloodiest lipstick and decorating her with it from his own lips. The hot, teasing dart of her tongue against his lips made Wufei's cock harder, and he opened his mouth to her in a silent groan. Meilin's heat and desire filled him, her hands pulling him closer, the slick cavern of her mouth inviting him in. Wufei shifted his hands downwards, to her barely-covered ass, and lifted her until she sat on the island counter. The movement and shift in position forced Meilin to end the kiss, and she pulled away from him with a frustrated gasp, glaring down at him until Wufei shifted his hands up to her shoulders and pushed down the thin straps of her dress. The fabric slid down her arms and her chest easily, pooling in her lap and exposing her breasts to the cool air of the kitchen. Meilin shivered, but made no move to cover herself, or even to free her arms from the straps that trapped them at her sides. "You think we should ask who out?" Wufei prompted. Meilin blinked in confusion, needing a moment to remember what she had been saying before they had gotten so side-tracked. "Your editor. Trowa. We should invite him over for dinner next week." "We should?" Meilin's schedule at the hospital meant she had irregular hours, almost always working late into the night, and she and Wufei tried to meet for lunch at least twice a week to make up for the lost time. Four days ago, Wufei had had a lunch meeting with Trowa Barton, his new editor, when one of Meilin's surgeries had been unexpectedly cancelled and she had joined them for the rest of the lunch. Trowa, who hadn't realized Wufei was married until Meilin called him and Wufei had asked if Trowa minded her joining them, had spent the first part of the lunch casually flirting with Wufei. Wufei had enjoyed it, flirting back and letting one of his ankles rest against Trowa's under the table when the other man shifted his longer legs closer. After Meilin joined them, Trowa had clearly been taken aback, confused by Wufei's encouragement earlier. It hadn't been long, however, before Meilin - who, despite being raised by a mother that had actually employed an etiquette tutor and sent Meilin to dance and comportment lessons, refused to actually act like she had grown up in the pristine and gilded halls of an upper west side penthouse - started to eat off first Wufei's plate, and then, with barely a cursory, may I, Trowa's plate. Trowa had relaxed minutely, slowly, until, by the end of the lunch, he had actually allowed Meilin to flirtatiously kiss his cheek after kissing Wufei full on the lips in farewell. "Yes," Meilin said, running her heels over the backs of Wufei's thighs. "We should ask him over for dinner and invite him to stay for dessert." Wufei chuckled. "And by dessert, you mean invite him to stay the night." "Of course." Meilin gave him a knowing look. "Don't tell me you haven't been thinking about having him fuck you all week? Fantasizing about the two of you fucking me. Imagining tasting his cum in my mouth." He had. Of course he had. Trowa Barton, in addition to almost instantly proving himself to be ten times the editor that Wufei's last editor had been, was probably one of the sexiest men Wufei had encountered in a long time. From his sharply defined features to his broad shoulders and calculating green eyes to his entirely too devastating baritone voice and his confident smirk. Wufei wrapped one hand around her neck and pulled her head back to his, kissing her again roughly to convey his answer. He released her mouth and transferred his attention back to her nipple. He took the small, hard brown nub between his lips and teeth, biting down immediately, and Meilin cried out in shocked pain even as she wrapped her legs around Wufei's waist, trapping him against her. Wufei lifted his head and looked down at the slope of her breast. Her areola were small, barely larger than her nipples, and the angry indentions of his teeth surrounded the darker skin. Sure enough, there was a faint, dark red outline from his lips, from her lipstick, around the mark, and Wufei sighed in pleasure before returning to her nipple, his lips gentle, his tongue soothing her skin before he started to suck. "Wufei," Meilin moaned, squirming against him. "Am I forgetting something?" Wufei asked, not bothering to hide his amusement or his smirk at her impatience. He switched to her other breast, gathering as much of it into his mouth as he could and raking his teeth over the skin as he slowly released it, until only the nipple was between his teeth. Meilin's entire body went still as she waited for the pain of him biting down, and Wufei heard her draw in a deep, fortifying breath. He released her, and she sighed in frustration. "Wufei." She was almost begging him. Almost. "If you want something, you're going to have to ask for it," he told her, before leaning forward and pressing kisses to her breasts, delighted to see the lipstick on her pale skin. Meilin, a neurosurgeon who had spent literally her entire life demanding her way and daily fought against the prejudices of being a petite Asian woman in a field dominated by white men, wasn't in any way shy about saying what she wanted or needed. Except when it came to sex with Wufei, and even then, it wasn't a matter of being embarrassed - she hated giving Wufei the advantage of being in control of her pleasure. It was a constant battle between them, most of the time, and one that, in the end, they both won. He could feel her glaring at the top of his head, and Wufei stood up straight, meeting her irritated gaze and lifting an eyebrow in challenge. "Wufei, please," she finally bit out. Sometimes, most of the time, Wufei made her say more - made her say exactly what she wanted from him, but he could tell she wasn't really in the mood to play that kind of game. He ran his right hand over her left thigh, under the fabric of her dress and towards the thong she had teased him with earlier. Meilin's breath caught in anticipation, and her thighs fell open, inviting him closer. Wufei kept his palm on her thigh, but he ran his thumb over the scrap of lace, feeling the wet curls of her pubic hair through the fabric. Meilin made another keening noise, and Wufei watched as she bit her lip, her small white teeth a sharp contrast to the dark red of her lips. Her eyes fell closed again, and she pressed against him eagerly. He slipped his thumb under the edge of the lace, pushing it to the side so that he could find the slick opening between her folds. "Wufei," she breathed, her voice barely audible, and then she cried out when he pressed his thumb against her clit. She wasn't always this quickly responsive, and Wufei felt confident that she had been thinking about this - had been thinking about him while she got dressed in this ridiculous costume to begin with. He circled her clit with his thumb, drawing another moan from her. The feel of her had his own hard cock straining and leaking pre-cum. Wufei could so easily visualize sliding into her while he fingered her, could practically feel the pressure of her heels digging into his ass while he fucked her, and he had to draw in a deep, steadying breath to keep himself focused. He stepped away from her, removing his hand, and she cried out in protest. Wufei just smirked at the fury in her eyes. "Lie back," he instructed, and Meilin gave an irritated huff but complied, her irritation fading away instantly when he replaced his thumb with his tongue. "Oh - oh, Wufei," she sighed in pleasure as he laved at her clit with his tongue and traced her labia with his fingers. He sucked on her, drawing the tender flesh into his mouth, and she moved against him, rocking forward in pleasure and eagerness. She shouldn't have been, but she was completely taken off-guard when he bit down, gently, but hard enough that she cried out and shuddered. "Please, oh, please, Wufei. Do it again. Harder, I-" He complied, sucking harder and then biting again, and she cried out again. He could feel her thigh muscles clench in anticipation, and knew that she was close already - she had to have been fantasizing about this earlier, had to have been thinking about Wufei eating her out and fucking her. Had to- The doorbell rang. He ignored it, moving his fingers to thrust inside of Meilin while he gentled his suction on her clit, teasing her with the change in pressure. It rang again, followed by the reedy, high-pitched voices of children chorusing. "Trick or treat!" Meilin cried out - this time not from Wufei's ministrations. "No!" Wufei had to laugh, and he moved his head to bite the inside of her thigh before standing up straight. "You're the one who wanted to do this," he reminded her. Meilin stubbornly continued to lay on the island, her legs splayed wide, her dress just a twist of black lace around her waist, completely exposing her breasts and her groin to Wufei's regretful gaze. It had surprised him, when Meilin came home two days ago, exhausted after performing a sixteen hour surgery, her arms laden with bags of candy and a ridiculously large plastic jack-o-lantern, insisting that they would be giving out candy this year. Meilin didn't hate children,though they both agreed that they didn't want any, and Meilin preferred that they either be anesthetized on a surgical gurney or in someone else's arms, far out of reach. Wufei hadn't bothered to ask why Meilin wanted to participate in such a pedestrian event, and he hadn't needed to. Their neighbors, Alice and James Bickford, had just had their third child two months ago, and couldn't resist sending out photos of all three children in their potential Halloween costumes, using the HOA mailing list to poll the neighborhood on the costumes instead of using it to discuss the very real problem of their damn dog getting into the recycling bins and wrecking havoc. While the neighborhood was fairly diverse - Treize and Zechs had been the first to welcome Wufei and Meilin to their street two years ago, while Dorothy and Hilde had actually helped, or rather taken over, Wufei's attempts to put in a porch swing last year, and Wufei and Meilin were hardly the only people of color - it was a very family-oriented neighborhood. They were the only couple without children, and at every single neighborhood event, Meilin was interrogated about when she would be popping out a child and Wufei was the target of pointed, envious comments about the joys of not waking up at three in the morning to change a diaper. While neither Meilin or Wufei had budged on their feelings about children, Wufei could tell that the constant haranguing was getting to his wife, and while it amused him that she had decided to actually participate in the neighborhood Halloween festivities this year, he was smart enough not to comment. The doorbell rang yet again. "They are so fucking determined," Meilin complained, before finally sliding off the counter and setting her clothes to rights. She picked up the jack o-lantern full of candy and started out of the kitchen, but Wufei grabbed her gloved arm and pulled her back to him, kissing her once again, holding the contact until she softened against him and her mouth opened to him. "As soon as that thing is empty, we're turning off the porch light and finishing this," he assured her. She smirked at him as she stepped away, dark eyes glittering once again, and Wufei had to smirk himself. He listened to her open the door and, in her so very fake enthusiastic voice, ask the children what costumes they were wearing. Mournfully, he looked down at his still hard cock tenting the front of his trousers, and the dark stain of precum that had leaked through. "Later," he promised himself. -o- After two hours of hearing the doorbell ring every two to seven minutes, followed by Meilin's irritated groans and the sound of her tossing the book she was futilely trying to read between trick or treaters down onto the coffee table, dinner was finally ready. Of course, the jack-o-lantern was still half-full - and Meilin had started to grumble about just dumping the whole thing into the next kid's bag - and the meal was anything but peaceful. Wufei himself was starting to grow irritated - not at Meilin, but at the world in general. His wife never got to relax, between surgeries, research and travelling for conferences. The fact that she was spending her one night off this week running back and forth between the couch, dining room and front door was absurd. She had glared at him, however, when he offered to take over passing out the candy, insisting that she was fully capable of this kind of domestic chore. So Wufei just poured both of them very tall glasses of wine and tried his best to keep her food warm while he ate his own. While it wasn't a sore spot for them, it was a source of tension between Meilin and her parents, Wufei and his own, and between both of them and judgemental acquaintances that Meilin had a career that easily kept her working sixty or more hours a week while Wufei's work allowed him to stay home. They had met during medical school at Johns Hopkins, spending the first year trying desperately to one up each other in every test and lab until realizing that, while one of them might get superior marks on something, they were each other's equals in almost every way. After medical school, Meilin was offered a residency in Boston and Wufei, who had only gone to medical school to appease his parents and whose true passion was writing, followed her to Boston and began work on his first novel. Their parents were, predictably, horrified. Meilin's mother had only encouraged her to attend Johns Hopkins in the first place because it would be prime husband hunting grounds - the concept of her daughter actually becoming a surgeon seemed impossible for her to wrap her head around. Wufei's parents, meanwhile, nearly cut him off financially when they learned that he had turned down every residency he had been offered and, instead of following in his father's footsteps and becoming an orthopedic surgeon, was using his world-class education to write medical-crime fiction. It wasn't until Wufei's first book was published, until it became an instant best-seller, that Wufei's mother stopped her weekly phone calls berating him for 'killing' his father and instead started to ask when he and Meilin would get married and when they would have children. Left to their own devices, Meilin and Wufei would probably have never married. It had nothing to do with commitment - they were devoted to each other, and Wufei found it impossible to even entertain the notion of sharing his life with another person the way he did with Meilin. However, Meilin was offered first a fellowship and then an attending position at the Presbyterian University Hospital of Columbia, and her colleagues started to drop hints about the board wanting their top surgeons to be settled, to be ambassadors who could wine and dine donors. After two years of the pointed comments and after seeing three of her colleagues - each her inferior - promoted and given raises above her, Meilin had come home one night and asked Wufei to marry her. Their parents had been ecstatic - though both Wufei and Meilin's mothers expressed concern over the fact that, at thirty-two, there was a clock quickly running down on when they could start a family. The wedding had also resulted in their only vacation lasting more than two days. Meilin's superiors, only too happy that their rising star was finally playing their game, gave her one month of vacation time for their honeymoon, and she and Wufei spent it Barcelona, where they had met Duo. The American ex-pat was hardly the first person they had invited into their bed. From the start, Wufei had been very open about his own bisexuality, and Meilin had been the one to pick up a complete stranger at a bar one night and bring him home. Wufei was positive that the first time, and likely the first few times, Meilin had done it simply to prove that she could - she refused to be afraid of or intimidated by anything. However, it quickly became apparent that Meilin enjoyed the dynamic of a third person in their relationship, at least as far as sex went. When they first moved to New York after six years of Meilin's residency in Boston, they met Relena Darlian, the first woman Meilin seemed at all interested in, and she became a steady bed-mate for two years before she moved to Paris. It wasn't until Duo, however, that both Meilin and Wufei realized that perhaps having a third partner might be good for more than just incredibly fulfilling sex. They met him on their second day in Barcelona, when some kid stole Wufei's wallet and Duo chased him down, ruffled his hair and flipped him a coin before securing the return of the wallet. They had taken him out to dinner that night, but he had gently turned down their invitation to go back to their hotel room and had instead suggested he take them sailing the next day. It had taken a week of dating Duo - of getting to know him and exploring Barcelona and the coast together, before Duo had kissed Meilin and, grinning wickedly, asked if the invitation to go to their hotel was still on the table. Dating had never really occurred to Meilin and Wufei as something they should try - but after Duo, after a week of courting him and then three weeks of enjoying him in and out of bed, they had realized that a triad could mean so much more than sex. Of course, after two years of marriage, they had yet to find anyone close to Duo in terms of compatibility with them, and had instead gone back to a string of short-term lovers. A string that would likely - hopefully - now be decorated with Trowa Barton. As Wufei cleaned up the half-eaten meal - Meilin had had to abandon hers entirely, and Wufei simply hadn't felt the desire to finish his own after that - he contemplated just calling up his editor to see if he was busy that evening. He abandoned the plan as too forward - Meilin's plan to invite him over for dinner first was much better. The doorbell rang yet again, and Wufei winced at Meilin's muttered cursing in the next room. He made a mental note to ask Dorothy how to change out the doorbell - he felt confident neither he or Meilin would want to hear this particular ring ever again. "Wufei, darling, look who came trick or treating." Meilin hadn't asked him to come out and see a single trick or treater all night - only telling him after they had left which neighbors had already come by. Maybe it was Treize, Zechs and their son Heero? Wufei wiped off his hands on a kitchen towel and removed the apron he realized he had neglected to take off earlier before walking out of the kitchen and into the foyer. Meilin was leaning against the open frame of the door, and as he walked up behind her, Wufei could see a lot of fluffy pink fabric beyond her. He stepped up to her side, sliding an arm around her waist, and got a closer look. Two red haired girls, perhaps seven or eight years old, stood on the front porch dressed as some kind of pink princesses. They were cute, and vaguely familiar-looking. "Cathy's girls," Meilin supplied for him when Wufei lifted an eyebrow in question. Catherine Bloom, the single mother one street over who seemed to have made it a personal vendetta to argue with James and Alice Bickford at every single HOA meeting - which Wufei appreciated on one hand, but resented on the other because that was his vendetta. Wufei looked beyond the yards and yards of pink tulle, but he didn't see Catherine standing on the sidewalk waiting for the girls. Instead, he saw a tall, broad- shouldered man wearing a gold frock coat, a crown and sash to match, white tights and tall black boots. Wufei stared, admiring the man's thighs and trim waist and - he took a second look at his face. "Trowa?" The man stepped closer to the porch, the light spilling over him and illuminating his features more clearly. "Wufei," he said, his lips curving into a smirk. "Trowa takes his nieces trick or treating every year," Meilin told Wufei, saving him from gracelessly asking what Trowa was doing there. "And he always dresses up like a prince for them," Meilin added, her eyes dancing with laughter. "How charming." Trowa's lips twitched. The girls started to shift, clearly ready to move on now that they had secured their loot. "We have a few more houses to visit before I drop them back off," Trowa said, taking each girl by the hand. It was clear that he was fishing for an invitation to return. "Well," Meilin leaned against Wufei's side, lacing her fingers into his by her waist. "If you want to stop by for a night cap after you've returned your princesses to their castle, I'm sure Wufei and I will still be up." Trowa's clear green gaze met first Meilin's and then Wufei's. "I would love to." -o- By 10:45, there was no sign of Trowa, and Meilin had fallen asleep on the couch. Wufei, after unsuccessfully trying to convince a not-entirely awake Meilin to go to bed upstairs, tucked a blanket around her and turned off the front porch light. He was disappointed - Trowa had seemed genuinely interested. Had, in fact, been the one who seemed to want the invitation to come over. Of course, it wasn't only Trowa's no-show that had Wufei disappointed - but the idea of the other man joining them had inspired Meilin and Wufei to put off returning to their pre-Trick or Treating activities until Trowa came back. Frustrated about both, Wufei wasn't the least bit tired himself, and settled in on the opposite end of the couch from Meilin with his laptop and started to write. It was 11:30 when Wufei's phone lit up with an incoming text. I'm so sorry. Tonight was a disaster. The girls ate too much candy and got sick- And there is absolutely no way you want any details beyond that. Unless your book is taking a new direction. Despite himself, Wufei felt his lips curve up at the sight of Trowa's name on the contact flag, and at the text itself. Wufei typed in a response. It sounds like you really could have used that nightcap. Trowa's response was instant. No kidding. I'd probably have to use half of your alcohol supply just to sanitize my hands, and the other half to drown out my memories of tonight. He probably should just let Trowa's words, his complaints about his nieces, remain just that. But… Meilin and I aren't usually in the habit of taking advantage of sexy, drunk men. We generally like our conquests to remember us in the morning. The bubble ellipse took much longer to appear and then to resolve into a text this time, and Wufei wondered if perhaps he had been too blunt. I'm pretty sure THOSE memories aren't the kind I would ever want to drown out. Any chance for a raincheck? Smirking in satisfaction, Wufei typed in his response. We would love to have you for dinner next week. Not missing a beat, Trowa responded. As a guest or the entree? Wufei laughed out loud and, next to him, Meilin shifted in her sleep and scowled. I was thinking dessert might be more appropriate, but I'm very flexible with the menu. He was enjoying picturing Trowa splayed out on the kitchen table, stained red with lipstick, naked and straining for relief under Wufei and Meilin's ministrations. Wufei would love to see Trowa's calm, collected composure shattered, and he wondered just how easy - or how difficult - it would be to have the man begging to be fucked. And Meilin? Wufei had to snort in amusement. Meilin only sets foot in the kitchen when she's starving or trying to distract me. She won't care if you're an aperitif or the main course, so long as she has you. Wufei could all-too easily hear Meilin saying exactly that. Then I will try not to disappoint again - and hopefully, I'll have the stamina to last six courses for the two of you to enjoy. Wufei looked at the calendar app he and Meilin shared. While her schedule always had a certain amount of flexibility because of emergent patients, most of her surgeries were scheduled weeks or months in advance. How is Tuesday at eight? It took a moment for Trowa to text back. Perfect. Should I bring white or red wine with me? Meilin had never cared to pair wine with food - yet another source of horror for her mother - and Wufei wasn't sure what, exactly, he would make for the dinner. Assuming, of course, that they ate actual food at all. That thought had Wufei smirking again. Champagne would probably pair best. Nothing too dry. -o- Growing up, Wufei had continuously baffled his parents. While he could excel at athletics, he preferred to study or write. While he could make friends, he preferred to isolate himself. While he could go out and cause mischief, he preferred to stay home. His father had, for years, been convinced that Wufei was gay. Wufei hadn't dated much in high school, and the first girl he brought home for his parents to meet had been during his sophomore year in college. Wufei's father had actually hugged the girl, and then Wufei. And while, of course, Wufei was bisexual and had actually spent the better part of his freshmen year in an annoyingly complicated not-really-friends with benefits relationship with his male biology lab partner, what had really worried Wufei's father about his son's sexuality was Wufei's enjoyment of cooking. Some of Wufei's earliest memories were of helping his grandmother in the kitchen, and Wufei's mother - a woman who had devoted most of her energy to becoming as white-bread American as she possibly could after immigrating in her teens to the United States - had been all-too happy to teach her only child how to make shake and bake chicken. For his sixteenth birthday, his mother had given him Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking, and Wufei's father had looked on in horror. His father hadn't been the only one who found Wufei's enjoyment of cooking questionable - the same girl that he brought home his sophomore year had constantly rolled her eyes and made sarcastic comments about Wufei wanting to be barefoot in the kitchen. The first time that Wufei had invited Meilin over to his apartment for dinner, on their fourth date, Meilin had sighed in relief. "Thank god you can cook - live-in chefs are so creepy," had been her only comment until after the meal, when she sat on a stool and watched him store the leftovers while finishing off a glass of wine. "This isn't some kind of Hannibal fixation, is it? You aren't going to turn out to be a serial killer, are you?" And while, over the years, Meilin did tease Wufei about his need to fix the perfect meal, she never derided him for wanting to cook, or wanting to cook well. On Tuesday morning, as Wufei prepared the marinade for the pork tenderloin he had planned for the evening meal, Meilin walked into the kitchen and dipped her finger into the open jar of apricot preserves. Wufei gave her a look, but Meilin just sucked her finger clean and then leaned close to kiss him. "You made this last New Year's, didn't you?" she asked him. "For that insufferably long party that James and Alice hosted?" Wufei nodded, surprised that she remembered - Meilin, while always complimentary of his cooking, seemed to take as much pleasure in eating from a corner food cart in Manhattan as she did from eating one of Wufei's meticulously-prepared meals. He, of course, remembered all too well. Alice had actually asked Wufei if this was a 'native' recipe from his homeland. Meilin, standing beside him, had snorted in amusement. "I think Charleston is better known for its seafood - and I seriously doubt your mother ever made anything that involved more than five ingredients - no offense to her. I don't cook anything with more than two ingredients." "You don't cook at all," Wufei had corrected her, grateful for her intervention - for her jibe at Alice's racism, but also her ability to diffuse the situation. "It was good," Meilin said now, as she walked past him to pour herself a cup of coffee. "But doesn't it have peanut butter in the marinade?" "Yes, of course." "Mm." She took a sip of her coffee and leaned against the counter. "What?" he demanded. "Oh, nothing. I'm sure it will be perfect and delicious." "But?" Wufei growled, knowing that superior look on her face all too well. "But… I seem to recall that at the party, everyone enjoyed the dish immensely - except for Hilde, because she tries to keep to a kosher diet despite the fact that Dorothy is obsessed with bacon. And except for-" "Catherine," Wufei realized. Catherine Bloom, Trowa's sister, who hadn't known there was peanut butter in the marinade, and had, after eating just a few bites, suffered an intense allergic reaction and needed an epi-pen injection. "Shit." He stared at all of the ingredients on the counter. He hadn't even thought to ask Trowa if he was allergic to peanut butter. Meilin pressed a kiss to his cheek, and ran her left hand down his back before squeezing his ass. "Better text him. A trip to the emergency room tonight might be fun for me, but it's not going to go well with your plan to sodomize a man while he eats out your wife." "Sodomize?" Wufei smirked at her. "Mhm. I've always liked the way that words sounds." "You've also always liked the way it feels," he reminded her. "That too," she agreed, as she shrugged on her leather jacket and dumped the rest of her coffee into a travel mug. "Dinner is at eight," he reminded her for the fifth time that morning. Meilin rolled her eyes. "Yes, I know - and I have two alarms set on my phone to remind me. I won't be late." He stared at her. "I promise. All I have today is an ablation surgery for my Parkinson's patient, and I should be finished with that by five - six at the latest. Plenty of time to make it home on time." "If you're late, I'll have to start sodomizing him without you," Wufei threatened. Meilin smirked. "That almost makes me want to be late - I'd love to walk in and see him bent over your desk while you fuck him." The mental image was fairly appealing to Wufei as well, and he looked past the kitchen and into the library, where his writing desk was in easy view. It was, he knew from past experiences of bending Meilin over it, the perfect height. "Stop thinking about his ass, and text him to make sure you aren't going to poison him," Meilin ordered as she walked out of the kitchen. "I love you," she called over her shoulder as she opened the front door, closing it before he could respond. Wufei cleaned off his hands and reached for his phone to text Trowa. Please tell me you aren't as deathly allergic to peanut butter as your sister. While he waited for Trowa's response, Wufei poured the remaining coffee into the mug Meilin had abandoned and prepared it with milk and sugar to his taste. He wasn't sure how or why Meilin liked to drink her coffee black, but he had long ago given up fighting her on the matter. She would go to her - early, he was sure - grave convinced that sugar and milk ruined coffee. It was another fifteen minutes before Trowa replied. If you're planning on putting it all over my body, I would like to request that you consider almond butter instead, but only because I read an article about it being good for your pores. I'm not at all allergic to peanut butter. Wufei snorted in amusement. It's for the marinade, not for your body. But I will keep the almond oil on hand if you want me to. He and Meilin had used almond oil as a lubricant for years, ever since Meilin got tired of Wufei pointing out the danger of all of the parabens and other chemicals in store-bought personal lubricants. Of course, they also didn't need to use condoms when it was just the two of them having sex. Would it be presumptuous to ask if you have polyurethane condoms or if I need to get some? Considering just how blatantly Wufei and Trowa had been flirting about sex, he didn't think it was presumptuous at all. But he did appreciate the question. We should have enough on hand. Now that he knew Trowa wouldn't die if he followed the marinade recipe, Wufei moved back to the kitchen island and continued to prepare it. He wanted to let the pork tenderloin sit in the mixture for as long as possible before he roasted it in the oven. I'm not sure how to ask this except bluntly, but what are your plans for me tonight? What boundaries do you and Meilin have? It was a question that Wufei or Meilin rarely had their lovers ask. Relena had asked, had teasingly stroked Meilin's body while asking her what she was allowed to do, how she was allowed to touch them. Duo had also asked, that first night when he finally came back to their hotel, had stood naked and unsure by the foot of the bed and asked what the rules were. Perhaps, Wufei had to reflect, there was something to the fact that the only relationships of any length he and Meilin had had with a third partner were the two where their partners had tried to learn the lay of the land instead of blundering ahead. Our plans for tonight are to enjoy your company, as intimately as you feel comfortable. Meilin's feet are extremely ticklish and she tends to lash out without thinking when tickled, so unless you enjoy a certain amount of sharp, intense pain, I would recommend you avoid tickling her. She enjoys performing oral sex, but does hates the sensation of choking. I also enjoy performing oral sex, but I prefer to top during sex. Being a bottom is not a hard no for me, but it is not my first choice either. Meilin occasionally enjoys being blindfolded, but she does not like to be tied up. I, on the other hand, enjoy both. Meilin enjoys pain, but she draws the line at breaking the skin - as do I. Wufei set down his phone and bagged the pork tenderloin and marinade together before putting it in the refrigerator. He was nearly done washing the cutting board and mixing bowls when he received Trowa's response. That was surprisingly thorough. Thank you. Wufei sighed and dried his hands off. And your boundaries? He had noticed, in his working relationship with Trowa, that the other man tended to acquiesce to the demands of others very easily. Or at least, to Wufei's demands. On their very first meeting, in Trowa's office, Wufei had flat-out refused to send Trowa daily writing updates - as requested by the publisher - and Trowa had just blinked and then assured Wufei that he would tell the publisher they were unnecessary. When Wufei had also balked at the deadlines, Trowa had likewise immediately agreed to push them back. Of course, Trowa had ended the meeting with the suggestion that he and Wufei meet weekly for coffee, as a compromise to the daily updates. He wasn't a push-over, Wufei was certain, but Trowa certainly seemed content to be told what to do. While Wufei could appreciate that - and was even excited by the prospect of a partner who wanted to be dominated, at least a little - he also didn't want Trowa to go into this prepared to do things he didn't enjoy. I'm ashamed to admit that I don't have quite as much self-knowledge as you and Meilin. I'm not… entirely sure what my boundaries are. Wufei scowled. While he was very aware that he and Meilin were more open about their sex life, and more comfortable with discussing it, he often found it frustrating how many people around them weren't. He also didn't like the implication that Trowa probably didn't know when or how to say no. Then, tonight, you will simply need to tell us to stop whenever you are uncomfortable. And ask whenever you want something else or something more. He almost wanted to text Meilin, to give her a warning, but he had learned the very, very uncomfortably hard way never to text Meilin anything private at work. She almost always handed her phone over to an intern or resident, instructing them to ignore all calls from her mother and to read her Wufei's texts out loud if she was in the middle of a procedure or unable to read them herself. The result of Wufei's first - and only - attempt to send Meilin a text about his plans for her when she finished at the hospital had resulted in incredibly awkward holiday party introductions. Meilin, who didn't give a damn that her colleagues now knew her husband used a vibrator on her while simultaneously sodomizing her, had smirked when she introduced Wufei to the surgeons and residents who had been in the operating room to hear the text. She had laughed at their red faces and mumbled greetings, had dared anyone to even lift an eyebrow at her. And as much as she really didn't seem to care, Wufei did care about the prospect of Meilin's colleagues conjecturing about her private life, and had kept his texts entirely mundane since then. Texting Meilin to let her know that the man they intended to fuck that night was surprisingly virginal would definitely go against that rule. Thank you. And I'm sorry that I don't meet your expectations. Wufei sighed as he responded to Trowa's text. There is no need to apologize, and the only expectation we have is that you communicate. And show up at 8pm with champagne. And now that you've ensured I will spend the entire day thinking about discovering just what you enjoy tonight, I need to get to work. Since SOMEONE keeps sending me emails about an approaching deadline. Wufei finished his coffee and rinsed out the mug before checking his phone again, and Trowa's response made him smirk. You aren't the only one who will spend the day thinking about that. I'm in the middle of editing a children's book, and the line "What do you want for dinner?" did NOT sound like innuendo until just now. -0- "It smells wonderful." Wufei sighed and looked away from the wall clock - it was 8:30 - and to Trowa. The tall man looked, as usual, sexy as hell. He wore a navy shawl collared sweater over a forest green button up shirt, and a pair of fitted khakis that made his long legs seem even longer. He looked casual and confident, and Wufei would have even believed Trowa felt that way if the man wasn't finishing off his second glass of wine. "Thank you," he responded to Trowa's compliment. "Hopefully, it won't start to smell like a burnt, ruined roast soon." Trowa's lips twitched, but he took another sip of wine instead of commenting. Wufei, having lived with Meilin for a decade, had known not to plan on his wife arriving at home right at 8:00. He had, however, thought she would be there by 8:30. He was reminded of his birthday, four years ago, when Relena had cooked for them at her apartment and Wufei had arrived on time, and Meilin… Meilin had been pulled into an emergency surgery, and Wufei hadn't seen her until almost two days later when she was finally able to come home to shower before going back to the hospital to check on her patients. Of course, by that point, Meilin and Wufei had been involved with Relena for more than six months, and while it wasn't the birthday either Meilin or Relena had planned for him, Wufei had still had an excellent meal cooked by someone other than himself and a long night of playful sex with Relena. Tonight… well, tonight would not end the same way. While Meilin had spent time alone with their shared lovers, and so had Wufei, they had agreed from the start to share lovers - adding a third partner to their bed wasn't about creating new relationships separate from their marriage, but instead adding a new layer to their existing relationship together. If Meilin wasn't able to come home tonight, Wufei would not sleep with Trowa that night. That night or, Wufei had a feeling, ever. He looked at the other man as he fiddled with his empty glass, and Wufei lifted the bottle of wine. "Would you like another glass?" Trowa frowned slightly, and hesitated for a moment before shaking his head in the negative. "No, I've already had a bit much," he said, and offered Wufei a rueful smile. Wufei was relieved that Trowa had declined more wine - he could understand Trowa feeling nervous and wanting to take the edge off, but if the man had felt the need to be drunk to go forward with the evening's plans, it would have put an end to any potential sex just as easily as Meilin's absence. "Water?" Wufei offered instead, and Trowa nodded. "Please." As Wufei poured both of them glasses, his cell phone rang. It was the ringtone assigned to Meilin, and Wufei immediately answered the call. "There was an emergency," Meilin said by way of greeting. "Just as I was finishing up with my Parkinson's patient, I got the page - some idiot on a motorcycle got into a wreck and-" "Let me guess, no helmet?" Meilin snorted derisively. "Of course, no helmet. Why on earth would anyone want to protect their brain?" Wufei smirked at her tone. "What happened?" "Oh, well, he ran into an SUV and went flying fifteen feet before landing on a street sign. He impaled himself on the sign." Wufei frowned as he tried to visualize it. "Impaled himself where?" "Forehead - I'm shocked the impact didn't damage his spinal cord." "He impaled his head on a street sign?" Wufei repeated, shocked and extremely jealous. Trowa, he noticed, was leaning against the island counter and smirking at Wufei. He looked amused and relaxed for the first time all evening. "Yes," Meilin was enthusiastic. Wufei could hear her adrenaline. "I had to do almost an entire lobotomy on his frontal lobe - I was able to try that transverse graft technique out - " "Did it hold?" Merlin had been toying with this new approach for months now, researching it and perfecting it. It could, if it was successful, have a major impact on neurosurgery. "So far. It was amazing, Wufei. The vessels immediately - I have the films. I'll bring them home with me, and we can watch the entire procedure over dinner." Wufei had to chuckle. "I'm not sure Trowa would be up for watching your surgical videos over dinner. It might put him off the food." Wufei looked over to Trowa, who was still amused as he inclined his head in agreement. "Shit. Oh,f fuck me. Wufei , I am so sorry. I -" It was not the first time Meilin had forgotten a date or important event during her day at work. She had forgotten about their anniversary dinner last year, hosted by his parents, and only arrived thirty minutes late after Wufei had texted her a reminder. His mother had been furious, making petty, sniping comments about priorities and responsibilities during the entireall meal, until Wufei finally told her that Meilin's priority of saving lives and her responsibility to her patients were the things that he loved most about her. "Look, I just need to go update the family on the idiot, and then I will be out of here. I will be home in an hour at the most - eat without me. I'm so sorry, Wufei. Just - don't let him leave. Tie him down if you have to, but I will be there. I love you." She ended the call, and Wufei could only stare at the phone in bemusement. Trowa arched an eyebrow. Wufei wasn't sure how much of Meilin's side of the conversation he had overheard. "She's on her way - she said to go ahead and eat without her." Trowa nodded, and then frowned slightly before sighing and running a hand through his hair, upsetting his bangs and sending them falling over his left eye. "If this - perhaps this isn't -" "Trowa, we both want this. But if you don't, if you are uncomfortable or uninterested -" "Of course I'm interested," Trowa snorted, "But…" he sighed again. "I've never done something like this. I've never been with a married couple before. This dynamic… I've honestly never felt this out of my depth before." Wufei nodded. He could appreciate that - and he imagined it wasn't all that easy for Trowa to even admit that in the first place. "We've been told before that we can be a bit… a bit overwhelming," Wufei said, before turning away from Trowa to start plating their meal. Duo had called them unfucking believably intense, while Relena used to laugh and say that they were the reason the French called orgasms le petit mort. "So you've… done this before?" "Yes. Although, it's been...nearly eight months since we invited someone into our bed." "Oh." Wufei looked over his shoulder at Trowa, who had once again lost his equilibrium. "Trowa." The other man met his gaze. "I have a better working relationship with you than I've had with any editor I've ever worked with. My work is very important to me - and my work relationship with you is something that I want to preserve. However, I would be ~ * ~ |
