Notes: This takes place during the period Trowa was working under cover for Oz. I've wondered what would happen if he ever caught Treize's eye, and vice versa. Special thanks go to Erin Cayce for her dedicated musing and beta reading.
It wasn't his physical beauty that first attracted me, considerable though it was. Even that impossible curtain of hair masking half of his arresting face could not detract from his loveliness. No, it was something far more complex than mere beauty. The most seductive aspect of young officer Trowa Barton had to be his silent indifference. I wasn't looking for a new lover, even though my Lightening Count was often away on missions. I'd been satisfied. God knows there were plenty of young officers falling over themselves for my attentions, amusing certainly, but much too easy. Possibly that was why his indifference was the biggest attraction of all. And I was attracted, beyond words.
***
I never wanted him to notice me. I've always been most comfortable when I've felt invisible. Maybe that was my mistake - trying to be invisible. If I'd acted like all the others I would have just blended in. But I have to be what I am, I suppose. I'd come here to do a job, and would leave soon. I had no time for games and even had I, this was not an appropriate playmate in any context. Maybe that was just what pushed me to play. What if?
***
I'm not certain exactly when I started watching him in earnest or even why. That's incidental anyway. It became a game to encounter him as he worked, or have him encounter me. I had to be oh, so careful at it, not wanting to be caught by others, particularly my quarry. It was easy enough to check or even modify duty rosters, forcing him into my sphere. Soon that was not enough to satisfy. I sensed that he was becoming aware of the game and it excited me. Now, I wanted him to come to me.
***
He was watching me, stalking me, like one of the big cats I grew to love in the circus. His body reminded me of those wild beasts as well, the sleek muscularity of it, the smooth prowling gait. He willed me to notice him and I refused, over and over. I wanted to force his hand, spur him to do more than just watch. He'd already begun discreetly reassigning me to tasks that would put us in close contact and he knew I knew it. I refused to give him as much as a glance. It was driving him to more desperate plots and I could sense that a real confrontation was not far.
***
He's toying with me. I don't know how the brat dares. He's treading dangerous ground and he knows it. I've grown tired of this waiting game. It's meaningless to me who flinches first now. I will have him, and I'm perfectly willing to initiate the confrontation. I want him on his knees before me, worshiping, as I deserve. I'll plunder that luscious mouth and he will love me for it. I'll have those long legs wrapped around my waist, drawing me in as I bury myself in his willing body, reveling as he cries out in passion. And in the end I will have won.
***
We're near the end of the game. In the morning I'll be gone, my mission finished, but before that I'll have had the supreme leader of Oz at my mercy, writhing with pleasure as I take him with hungry lips, dictating his release and savoring the evidence of my power. He will have come to me, after all. And that was my game all along. He'll want to take me and I want that as well. I welcome the stretching invasion of his length, the hot, slick slide of his body against mine as he labors over me. I want the weight of him, collapsed in exhaustion after the storm. I will have won.
***
Late at night, the two players finally square off. They walk into each other's arms without a word and kiss, pouring every imagined act of desire into the brief embrace. Hands stroke and grasp. Lips meet, first hard and plundering, then softening in coaxing quest. Teeth nipping and teasing. Tongues stroking in the eternal dance of passion before breathlessly breaking away. This kiss is their single salute to a game well played, before they turn and go.