Zechs sighed against Treize’s shoulder. "If all the world were like you, maybe it would work."

Treize’s chuckle vibrated through his chest. "There’s a weight to put on me."

Zechs snorted. "Most of your soldiers would think it true and possible." He leaned up one one elbow, looking down seriously. "You took me in too, you know. I thought you could control everything. That you could shape all of OZ because you shone so bright."

Treize’s lifted a hand, running his fingers through Zechs’ hair. "I hoped I could," he murmured.

Zechs slipped back down with an exasperated sigh. "Your own fault, then, if I blamed you personally."

"Perhaps." Treize drew him closer. "But you know that war will never leave us. That being so, should we not seek to make it a bright, just thing?"

"I don’t think we can," Zechs whispered, hand spread against Treize’s chest. His mouth quirked, a shade bitterly. "That being so, should we not seek to see that people remember how hideous it is for as long as possible before we have to learn again?"

"But you know that brightness, that nobility. You’ve felt it." Treize’s voice was low and intense with the perfect surety that captured everyone around him, including, Zechs had to admit, himself.

"I’ve felt it," he agreed slowly, careful not to meet Treize’s eyes while he was feeling his way toward a truth. "But… not in war. Only in… in duels of honor." He turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling, and repeated quietly, "If all the world were like you, then yes."

It was Treize’s turn to lean over him, smiling ruefully. "Perhaps you’re right." While Zechs stared at him, taken quite by surprise, he wound his fingers into Zechs’ hair and kissed him, slow and deep. "Not even our honor and strength could stop the dishonorable from ruling," he murmured into Zechs’ mouth. "So. Perhaps, instead, we must serve those who do stop them."

Zechs relaxed all at once, light-headed with relief that he would not be called on to fight that battle again, that his oldest friend would hear reason. "I will serve that ideal willingly," he whispered back, hands sliding up the powerful line of Treize’s back.

"Mmmm." Treize’s smile turned soft and pleased as he leaned down to draw a slow tongue up Zechs’ neck. "Good."

Zechs took in a quick breath, pulling Treize tighter against him. This was sure; this was present and now, the weight of Treize’s body over his, the heat of his hands, the slide of his tongue against Zechs’, urgent and intense in ways Treize hid when it was just words, and Zechs answered with passion.

He cried out when Treize’s cock slid into him, thick and hard and certain, whole body drawing taut with heat, relaxing into the sure simplicity of it.

"We will serve only the world’s light, then," Treize murmured against his ear, nipping gently. "Tend the fire of honor and determination and commitment. The purity that I always loved in you…"

Zechs’ arms tightened and he moaned, husky, as the velvet of Treize’s words and the hard edge of his conviction stroked him to orgasm and wild heat shuddered through him. Treize arched over him, thrusting harder, head tossed back as he groaned. "Yes!"

Zechs gathered him close again, as he relaxed, and laughed soft and helpless against his shoulder. "And after it all, here I am again, in your hands," he whispered.

"Perhaps we are in each other’s hands," Treize murmured back.

Zechs smiled, letting himself hope.

End