(author's note: this was inspired by a bit of rp'ing; much thanks to 'Dark Angel' and to 'The One True Zoicite' for their contribution to the creative process that led to this dark gem ~_^)


Comfort
by Kathy Duncan

Zoicite wasn't sulking.

Sulking would have been an improvement in his mood.

He sat on the edge of the bed, plucking at the coverlet, lower lip quivering. Every few seconds he would glance up at Kunzite standing in front of the vanity, and every stroke of that hairbrush through those glistening strands was a hammered nail into his aching heart... because it was for Beryl that his love preened tonight.

"You could tell her no sometimes," Zoi said in a tight voice, dropping the blanket's edge and clasping his hands in his lap. He fixed his most intense gaze on the middle of the back of Kunite's neck. The way the muscles there corded in sudden tension was a dagger-blow. With a voiceless sob, Zoi turned away from him, hugging his midriff tightly as if to keep the pain from spreading.

Slowly, silently, Kunzite laid down his brush. He searched the reflected image of Zoicite's back, and a flicker of agony shared touched his cool features. In three strides he was at Zoicite's side, taking the slim shoulders in his hands and gently turning the unresisting body to face him. Zoicite turned shimmering emerald eyes up to Kunzite, unshed diamond tears bejewelling his lashes. Waiting for some word of comfort, he searched the ice-grey eyes of his lover.

"My love... you know I cannot, for both our sakes," Kunzite said as gently as he could -- but as the beautiful face crumpled with the tears that had stood in waiting, he knew he'd chosen the wrong words.

Zoicite shoved his arms away and sprang to his feet. "Must you primp like a schoolboy going to the prom?!" he shrieked before dashing across the room to prostrate himself across the chaise-lounge and bury his face in his arms, sobbing.

Kunzite stoood up to cross the distance between him, to take Zoicite in his arms and console him as his heart ached for him to do-- but at the same moment, a tapping came at their door. Zoicite lifted his head to glare bleary-eyed at Kunzite, who for his part had frozen mid-stride. Both knew a youma stood on the other side of that door, come to remind Kunzite of his duty to his Queen.

"The servant comes for the slave," Zoiciye hissed acidly. He was simultaneously gratified and heartsick to see the stab of agony in Kunzite's face.

The tap came again, followed by a tentative, "Lord Kunzite?"

Zoicite curled himself into a tight ball in the sofa and said in a leaden voice, "You'd better go... my love."

Kunzite frowned, then set his face in a mask of imperturbability. His long stride took him to the door in four steps. The youma in attendance outside it fairly stumbled over herself trying to get out of Kunzite's way. Neither General paid her any notice as she cast anxious glances at each of their faces.

The heavy thud of the slammed door send a jolt through Zoicite's trembling form.

In silence he lay contemplating his own misery. For long minutes he lay curled there, nursing the ache in his heart.

At last, he could be still no more. With a shriek of rage he launched himself from the chaise-lounge. The first thing that came to his hand, he hurled full-force across the room. It shattered very satisfyingly against the wall. Gleefully he reached for another large vase and spun around with it over and over before sending it sailing into the air. He nearly laughed as it too shattered -- until he caught a glimpse of the vanity table.

The array of grooming gear -- combs, brushes, hair ointments, colognes -- taunted him with images of Kunzite at the mirror... followed by images of Kunzite delivering himself to Beryl.

Kunzite, playing the Queen's whore.

Kunzite in the arms of that red-haired bitch.

With a snarl of pure fury, he upended the vanity table. What didn't shatter, he grabbed up and pitched viciously in every direction, even though his shoulder began to ache, even though his own stomach began to turn from the vitriol that filled it. He only stopped when a sharp pain pierced his finger.

Softly sobbing, he sat back on the edge of the bed. Slowly he extruded the glass shard. Straight into his mouth went the wounded digit. As he nursed his injury, he cast a chagrined gaze over the chaos he'd wreaked.

Can't call in a youma to take care of this -- I'd be a laughingstock... nevermind the delight the Queen Bitch would take in knowing for a fact the misery she's putting me in with this..., he thought to himself.

His heart heavy with self-recrimination, he set to cleaning the wreckage himself. He immersed himself in the task, not giving up until every shard was plucked from the carpeting and every piece of Kunzite's hair care paraphernalia was in place... that didn't need to be replaced.

He was feeling quite proud of his accomplishment, in fact, up to the moment when he caught his own reflection in the mirror. Saw himself standing in the room alone.

A solitary tear crept its way down his cheek.

His head drooped. A heavy sigh escaped him.

After a few deep, calming breaths, he nodded to himself decisively.

****

The library was a long and dimly-lit room in general, with shelving built to meet the ceiling 12 feet overhead and a long table down the center of the room lit at regular intervals by illumination globes. A fingerstroke in one direction along the base of the globe intensified the brightness of the light, as a stroke in the reverse direction would dim it. At the end of the table nearest the door sat Jadeite with a stack of books from the self-help section of an Earth bookstore. Every so often he would look up from the book he was reading to glance at the title of a book about three down from the top and chuckle. Further down, Nephrite had a set of ephemirides before him, looking to establish the right confluence of Moon phase with the alignments of Mars and Jupiter for the moment of greatest fortune in combat. Each time Jadeite would laugh, Nephrite would arch a bemused eyebrow. Finally his curiosity was fully piqued.

"Just what exactly is it that has you so... giggly, Jade-san?"

Grinning wickedly, Jadeite slipped that third book out from the stack and held it up so Nephrite could see the title.

The astromancer groaned and clapped his hand to his forehead."Mars and Venus On A Date? You... are terrible," Nephrite complained with half a grin.

Jadeite simply nodded, smiling. He returned to his book, but not before setting the offending tome down by itself halfway between them, quietly keeping an eye on Nephrite. He noted each time that Nephrite's eyes were drawn back to the title, and when finally Nephrite began to chuckle, he made a mental note to file away for future references.

Moments after that, Zoicite burst into the room and slammed both his palms on the tabletop with a resounding thwack. Both Generals flinched, but gave Zoicite polite attention.

"Who wants to get drunk with me?" he invited plainly. The two researchers exchanged glances. Neither of them made a remark about the tiny signs of weeping that still showed in Zoicite's eyes, though neither of them had missed them. With a resounding snap, their books were closed and their chairs scraping against the floorboards. In moments the room was empty.

****

Back in the shared quarters of Zoicite and Kunzite, the three of them had had set up a low table where provisions beyond merely the potables were arrayed -- finger foods mostly. Quite the little party actually. Nephrite naturally had been kind enough to arrange for the drinks. It was Jadeite who'd insisted they have food brought in. Privately, it was his intention to keep as clear-headed as he could manage, the better to observe the other two. Any source of information about the way people interact was fair game as far as he was concerned. So it was that Zoicite, not ordinarily a big drinker, was visibly affected early in the evening, while Nephrite was barely muddle-headed even though he'd matched Zoi drink for drink, and both of them would glance at Jadeite and mutter "lightweight" and laugh together like it was the funniest thing in the world. Jadeite simply smiled and made a toasting gesture any time they replayed this little joke.

Zoicite stood up unsteadily, arms splaying out to find his balance. Nephrite chuckled and offered his help, but Zoicite waved his hands away irritably. "You guys stay right here, I'm going to show you something," he said as he carefully picked his way around the table to the closet. Nephrite frowned as he summoned his concentration, while Jadeite's gaze remainded carefully bland.

In a moment, Zoicite turned to them with a beautiful jade-green kimono dotted with pale pink cherry-blossom petals embroidered over all. "Isn't it beautiful?" he crooned as he held it out across his body.

Nephrite grinned the kind of goofy grin only the truly intoxicated can muster. "It suits you beautifully," he said, and his sunny expression was reflected in the delighted reaction Zoicite had to his words.

Jadeite smiled slightly as he decided he might be in for a truly prime observational opportunity. "Yes, Zoicite, it's very lovely," he added in words carefully phrased to keep neutral.

Zoicite flashed a dazzling smile at the both of them. "Don't you boys move!" he cried joyfully as he dashed to the washroom. Nephrite gave Jadeite a beatific smile.

"It's good to see him smile, isn't it? When he was so sad before...." Nephrite said, as the smile slowly faded.

"Zoicite's an okay kid, eh? You think maybe Kunzite's too hard on him?"

Nephrite blinked at Jadeite as he asked this question. Jadeite grinned. At first Nephrite was puzzled about the grin, but he wasn't too drunk to catch Jadeite's line of thought.

"Ugh.... you really are terrible, Jadeite," Nephrite complained again, still grinning. Jadeite nodded in agreement.

Following that exchange, the washroom door swung open. As they looked up, they both were greeted with the sight of Zoi dressed in the lovely green kimono, and he'd pulled his ponytail up into an approximation of the traditional geisha bun. He'd even gotten ahold of some crimson lipstick and black kohl eyeliner…. Neither of them dared consider questioning him where or why he'd gotten them.

He snapped open a pair of fans and proceeded to improvise a passable fan-dance, even though less than steady on his feet, and giggling almost constantly throughout. When he made his bows, they both clapped enthusiastically. Still giggling, Zoicite dropped unceremoniously onto his rump between them. Jadeite refilled Zoicite's glass. Zoi beamed at him prettily as he accepted the glass, then drained it.

Zoicite caught a glimpse of the red line the lipstick left on the glass. It made him think of red hair.

Tears welled in his eyes.

He looked up at Nephrite with lost eyes. "Am I pretty?" he asked, and there was despair in his voice.

Nephrite blinked and cast a glance at Jadeite, who gave him a helpless-looking shrug. Once Nephrite's attention was back on Zoicite, a sly smile crept across Jadeite's features as he watched Nephrite try to come up with a response that would make Zoicite smile. "Well... well yes, you're very pretty," he stammered.

Zoicite pushed the issue harder as he grabbed Nephrite's arm and asked, "Prettier than Her?" The desperation was even greater this time.

Jadeite barked a laugh. "Damn Zoicite, even I'm prettier than her -- why would you think you weren't?"

Zoicite flashed him a brilliant smile for that. "You guys... you guys are the greatest," he said as he leaned across to Jadeite and pretty much collapsed against him. Jadeite and Nephrite exchanged awkward glances as Zoicite dropped out of consciousness.

"Help me put him on the bed, Neph," Jadeite entreated.

Together they got their compatriot laid atop the covers. Nephrite blushed as he realized that the kimono was all that Zoicite had on.

"Jadeite, you don't think... you don't think he planned...?" Nephrite gave Jadeite a discomfitted look as he stumbled over what it was he was trying not to say.

"On fucking one or both of us? Maybe," Jadeite answered plainly. He smirked as Nephrite paled. "He might even wake up thinking he did," Jadeite added with barely-concealed glee.

Nephrite looked at the delicate figure in the bed with a heavy feeling of compassion. "We can't let him think that, we'll tell him the truth if he asks, right?" he said anxiously as he took a step or two back from the bedside.

Jadeite smirked. "Why should we?"

Nephrite blinked hard. "How can you say that? How can you even think of letting him think...?" Nephrite stared at Jadeite like he were something less than a youma. Jadeite grinned with a charming wickedness. "You... you really are terrible, you know that?" This time Nephrite wasn't smiling at all.

"Hey, look, if he believes he had either of us at his mercy, and it makes him feel better to think he could have one of us, don't you think maybe this bullshit he has to go through every time Beryl wants Kunzite's 'services' might be easier to bear?" Jadeite presented this bit of logic to Nephrite's befuddled mind with a grin.

Nephrite just shook his head, feeling somehow that this deception would come back to haunt him someday. Jadeite gave him a disgusted look. "Hell, you probably won't remember most of tonight anyway, what difference should it make to you?"

Jadeite took Nephrite by the shoulders and led him out the door. "Go on, get to bed, forget tonight like I know you will,"Jade muttered to him as he gave Nephrite a healthy shove in the right direction. Nephrite staggered off.

Jadeite watched him go, then turned around to look at Zoicite sprawled uncovered on the bed. Sighing, he decided to go put a blanket over him. Wouldn't be good to have him wake up cramping from a chill.

As he bent over Zoicite with the blanket, those infinitely green eyes fluttered open. Those crimson-painted lips smiled dreamily as Zoicite's arms came up to embrace Jadeite. A tiny sweeat broke out on Jadeite's forehead as Zoicite murmured, "Jade-chan, you're so sweet...."

The tiny sweat became a full sweat when Zoicite pulled him down and kissed him deeply. His wide-eyed look of shock set Zoicite off into another fit of giggling. Gently Jadeite pulled Zoicite's arms away from his neck and crossed them over Zoi's chest.

"Sshh now, you just.. you just sleep, Zoicite," Jadeite whispered. With a triumphant "Ha!", Zoicite grabbed Jadeite's arms and pulled them sideways so that Jadeite wound up falling beside him on the bed. Jadeite blinked hard and rapidly as Zoicite shifted position so that he was astride Jadeite. Even through the heavy fabric of the uniform, Jadeite was aware of the state of undress his apparent captor was in under the heavy green silk.

"No... Zoicite... this isn't...." he protested as Zoicite flirtatiously fluttered his long lashes while holding Jadeite pinned beneath him. Zoicite sank down slowly, eyes locked with his... then his eyes slid shut again and he collapsed unconscious and draped across Jadeite yet again.

Jadeite carefully squirmed his way out from under Zoicite, trying to ignore the fact that, yes, he was quite nude under that kimono, and yes, his skin was just as silky as it had always looked like it might be… and yes, he smelled so sweet this close...

Zoicite rolled over onto his back without waking. His truly beautiful face was so peaceful and sweet-looking. Hesitantly, Jadeite leaned closer. Every few inches he stopped to make sure Zoicite was still sleeping. Finally he hovered millimeters from Zoicite's face. With a sigh that was almost a sob, he gave in to the urge that drew him down and took a slow sweet kiss from those sleeping lips. As he pulled back, he saw the smile that flitted across the sleeping face -- and the tell-tale smearing of llipstick. Visions of an enraged Kunzite filled his head. After a moment of frantic thinking, he nodded to himself. Gently he lifted one of Zoicite's hands and dragged it across Zoi's lips, leaving a crimsom smear there. With any luck, Kunzite will think Zoicite put this get-up on for him and wiped the lipstick off in his disappointment that he hadn't come back sooner.

(Meanwhile he summoned a trio of his most tractable youma to clear away the evidence of their little private soiree, wondering somewhat at this urge to protect the bishounen general, but going with it anyway, convincing himself ultimately it was his own neck he was protecting.)

And that was exactly how it turned out an hour later, when Kunzite crept in to the room quietly and saw Zoicite with black tearmarks on his cheeks and smears of red on his lips and the back of his hand.

With a small cry of regret, he scooped Zoicite into his arms and covered the sweet face with kisses.

Zoicite woke up to this and with a cry of joy he returned those kisses, and they loved tenderly well into the grey of early dawn.

END