The Right Guy
by Kebzero

Wufei was growing ever more frustrated. For yet another day, he had been cooped up in the tiny, window-less office, conducting a thorough search of documents that still remained fruitless. Even hunches were hard to come by, and so far, all leads he'd found either ended up as dead ends or were so entangled in red tape he couldn't follow the paper trail through the mess.

If only he could bend the rules of the Preventer charter just a little, find a back alley punk peddling weapons and force a good, direct lead out of him at sword point.

Alas, that was not to be.

He was almost dragging his feet walking back to Quatre's mansion.

Walking home, he again caught himself thinking of that first evening with Quatre. Home is where your heart is, the proverb collection of his mind graciously offered. He sighed to himself, shuffling forward, rounding a corner. Only half a block left.

Well, he liked Quatre. The blond was a good friend. He seemed a little too nice and naive for his own good, sometimes - but Wufei had seen how Quatre did business. He didn't fall for it for one second; Quatre could be tough as nails if he wanted to. He simply seemed to prefer a friendlier outlook on life.

That suited Wufei just fine. He'd exploited his friend for a place to stay - but it was gnawing at his conscience. Given how the stay had begun to last, he felt ever more like a freeloader. All he could offer Quatre in return, was his limited company.

Yet, the blond didn't appear to want anything more.

Or... maybe he did. Wufei rubbed his upper lip, covertly grazing his lips. Even though Quatre had been drunk at the time, Wufei couldn't shake the feeling there was more to it than just a mishap. Perhaps Quatre wanted more of him than friendship - but would he be willing to offer, if cornered again?

He shook his head, and tried to focus on his case. It felt better to brood on that than to doubt his own feelings - his own preferences - let alone Quatre's feelings.

The few steps up to the door felt like a hill. He pushed the call button, and the butler let him in, discretely informing him the master was already home, enjoying a cup of tea in the study, and wouldn't Wufei like to join him right away?

Thus, Wufei discarded his coat and shoes, and dragged himself to the study. Those soft, reclining chairs sounded like a plan.

With barely a nod to Quatre, he sought out a free seat, crashing down in it.

Quatre chuckled at the sight, and put his china cup down on the cart. "Bad day?"

Wufei grunted, and slowly nodded in acknowledgement. "Can't seem to make any damn progress at all. I'm getting absolutely nowhere." He growled. "It leaves me dead tired, frustrated - angry, even. I feel like tearing something up, but..." He ground himself into the soft chair, and sighed. "But I don't feel up to it right now... Just want to relax for a bit..."

Quatre rubbed his chin, thinking it over. "Well, when you've recovered a bit, I might have an idea for venting that anger you've built up. You're still fond of swordplay, correct?"

Wufei shrugged. "I suppose so..." He had recently begun collecting swords, in addition to the few he had kept during the war - but it had been a long time since he'd actually swung one, much less done so in serious duels. He didn't expect to ever get a chance at that again; that died with the first war, right along with his last adversary.

Quatre reached for his cup, took another sip, smiling discretely. "Good. Let me know when you feel like moving again - and I don't mean move as in crawling to bed. It's still early."

Grunt.

"Or maybe we should have dinner first?"

Again, Wufei shrugged. "Not knowing what you've got planned - yeah, that sounds like a good idea."

Quatre nodded understandingly, called for the butler and made the arrangements.


Dinner had been a fairly light affair, compared to that of earlier evenings. Wufei had a feeling that had to have a connection with whatever Quatre was now leading him to. They were walking down a corridor leading to a section of the mansion Wufei hadn't been in before. Granted, he hadn't really bothered exploring the place; the study was comfortable, as were the dining, living, bed and bathrooms. There appeared to be a plethora of rooms in the building Quatre didn't use - at least not in the time Wufei had stayed there. Yet, everywhere seemed spotless. Again, he could but salute the staff and their dedication to their duties.

Quatre opened a door to the right, fumbled around a bit for the light switch along the wall. The tube lights crackled to life, illuminating the room, the wooden floor, and the reel at the center of the room. A rack along the far wall sported a great number of fencing equipment; foils and sabers, duelling masks, soft shoes, metallic vests, white suits - all in a number of sizes, from what Wufei could see. His jaw drooped just a little.

Quatre grinned at him. "I converted the rec room into a small fencing arena. I don't use it much, though. I don't have many opponents come by."

Wufei got over his surprise, and raised a brow. "You fence?"

Affirmative nod. "A little. Somewhat of a hobby I picked up along the way." He walked over to the rack and picked up a vest and suit his size. "Care to offer me a challenge, Wufei?"

Wufei smirked, all too eager to play.

Soon enough, they were both dressed for the occasion, facing each other from opposite ends of the reel. Still, Wufei wasn't sure they were about to follow the rules for much longer. He certainly wasn't planning to; in a real duel, anything goes. They clashed, just a small clang at first, soon growing more intense, yet hardly near their limits. Between a series of parries, thrusts and ripostes, Wufei asked "Why fencing, Quatre? What made you care about-"

Quatre began a fierce counterattack. "I found it a good way to get over being stabbed by a foil once." Even through the wire of the mask, Wufei could see his smile. "Next time I'm caught in a situation like that, I'll deflect the blow for sure."

Wufei snorted at that, defended himself expertly, regained initiative, pushing Quatre back down the reel, but not for long. The blond was proving a good match for him.

Then, Quatre showed that his little hobby training had paid off. Wufei found himself struggling to keep up a good defense, and his own offensives were all deflected. Quatre's grin was becoming an annoyance. Wufei gritted his teeth.

"What's the matter, Wufei? Is this all you got?" Quatre taunted him, scoring another hit as he poked at Wufei's shoulder. "I didn't think you this weak, even if you're tired."

"I'm not tired," Wufei growled back. "Maybe you're getting tired, but I'm not." He made another savage thrust.

Quatre dodged it easily, and tapped his the tip of his rapier to the top of Wufei's head. "Well, my day was bad enough." He withdrew, let Wufei build up some steam again. He chuckled. "Just pretend I'm a big stack of dangerous documents, Wufei. Come at me like you mean it - or should we finish this now?"

Wufei scowled. Maybe he was taking Quatre's mild taunts a little too seriously, but he definitely wanted to finish this - finish it in his favor. He couldn't believe he was this much out of shape - nor that Quatre was this good. He refused to blame his tired body. He couldn't blame the recent meal either. Quatre's reason for arranging for a light dinner was obvious now. He waited for a few seconds, just as Quatre was waiting for him. He watched for an opening, a slight weakness, a minute retreat - and as soon as he thought he saw one, he lunged forward with a fierce battle cry.

Alas, his body refused to play along perfectly, and just as he was about to deliver the final blow, he tripped, stumbling forward, ultimately landing on top of Quatre, sending them both crashing onto the reel. In the fall, their foils clattered harmlessly to the floor beside them, and their masks slipped off as well.

Wufei blinked, and found himself staring into Quatre's shocked eyes - and from very close. Too close, barely inches apart. The fact he was stretched out all over Quatre was slowly dawning on him, as was the fact how the tight-fitting white suits were also rather thin. He could feel Quatre breathing, both the heaving of the lungs where their torsos met as well as the warm breath itself against his face. Quatre shifted below him, looking up with concern, touching his shoulders.

"Wufei, are you okay?"

Slowly, Wufei nodded. "Yeah..." Embarrassed, feeling his cheeks flush, he rolled off of Quatre. He hadn't even peeked as they got dressed, but now he got no less than a full feel for the curves of the blond's body. Firm body. The blush was getting worse by the minute. "Yeah, I'm fine - sorry about that. Must be more exhausted than I thought..."

Quatre sat up, smiling sheepishly. "Yeah... I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pushed you into this."

Wufei shook his head. "No, it's okay, Quatre. Thank you. It helped."

Head tilt. "Oh yeah? Not thinking about the bad day at the office anymore? No more red tape on your mind?"

There was a slight twitch around Wufei's left eye, but Quatre didn't seem to notice - which was just as well. Wufei definitely wasn't thinking about paperwork now. "No," he finally answered. "I think - I think this was just what I needed. Thanks."

Nod. "You're welcome, Wufei." Quatre stretched, got to his feet, rubbed his back, groaned lightly. "Next time, you break my fall, okay?"

Guilt attacked him. Wufei got to his feet, and approached Quatre. "Are you okay?"

Soft nod. "Yeah, I'm fine. Might be a little tender tomorrow, but it's not much. Don't worry about it." Quatre grinned. "Now, promise. Next time, you're the fall guy."

Wufei grinned. "Okay, I promise. And next time, I'll put up more of a fight, too - let's do this sometime when we're fully rested."

Quatre laughed. "Oh, that'd be great - but when do you think we'll ever find a moment like that, huh? Two workaholics like us?"

Wufei chuckled at that as they made their way back to the rack to return the fencing gear.


Wufei had dared a peek as they changed back to their normal clothes. He got a flash of well-shaped abs as Quatre put on and buttoned up his shirt. It appeared Quatre had made an effort to stay in shape. Wufei suspected the blond's training schedule had relaxed quite a bit since the war, though.

Thoughts like that was what kept Wufei awake. Thoughts of Quatre's body pressed up against his, their faces barely apart, so close they could almost have kissed and still get away with calling it an accident; a result of Wufei's fall.

But then again, it would have been Wufei who would have initiated it - and he wasn't sure if he was ready to do such a thing. Quatre was a nice guy - a handsome guy, too. Yet, Quatre was someone he wanted to respect, to admire - and in a mental way, not a physical one.

He shook his head, and rolled over on his side, grinding his head into the pillow. It was wrong of him to have these thoughts; Quatre was his friend. It wasn't proper to put more implications than belonged there in the drunken kiss - although... the kiss was starting to grow on him, big time.

He'd be lying if he said he would mind a repeat - preferably a truthful, sober one.

But Quatre was another guy, not a girl. That much had been made perfectly obvious by the fall, if nothing else.

More than ever in his brief life, Wufei was seriously questioning his sexuality. If he was into guys, or guys too, then Quatre wouldn't be a disagreeable choice - of course, then there was the slight matter of Quatre wanting him back...

He growled, rolled over to his other side. He had to figure this out, before it ate him alive.

And whatever conclusion he reached, he had to let Quatre know.

It took several hours before he fell asleep.

In another part of the house, Quatre fell asleep only minutes after that.

-End Part #5-


On to part six. Back to part four.