Author's notes: Hooray for the hawks! I cross my fingers in the hopes that I did them justice. And make plans to write them something a bit more explicitly yaoiful in the future.

Warnings: Fluff. Yaoi undertones.

Windblown

If he nudged with his toe at just the right angle, the dead bark peeled up off the branch, coming loose in little wisps and curls that the wind carried instantly away.

It wasn't all that fascinating.

He stared intently anyway- and when that lost appeal, wedged the side of his foot into the gap he'd created, prying free a larger chunk. It came with a satisfying crack, toppling almost as soon as it was liberated to the ground below.

Janaff watched it fall, the wind pushing it away from the tree's base, and took pride in the fact that he could pinpoint which blades of grass it had landed between.

"You're restless," a voice observed smoothly from beside him.

It was no surprise at all to find, when he lifted his eyes, that Ulki had fixed him with an even, dark-eyed gaze.

"I'm bored," the younger laguz corrected. Absently, he reached to tuck a strand of hair behind one ear; the wind had coaxed it free and had since been attempting to annoy him mercilessly.

"He's been, what, an hour? Two?" A cursory glance was enough to inform Janaff of everything he'd missed while providing his own distraction: a small grey bird was approaching from the south-west, flying nearly in place against the strength of the breeze, and something seemed to have got the beehive some half a dozen trees away into a stir.

In other words, nothing of note.

"Closer to two," Ulki assented, sounding not bothered in the least.

There was an impatient silence as Janaff waited for the other hawk to continue, but the seconds dragged by with no response, and at last the laguz gave up, huffed a sigh, and returned his attention to the partially-mutilated tree bark. He was raising his foot to kick at it for the second time when Ulki decided to elaborate.

"I'm sure he has good reason." The laguz's voice was measured, sensible.

"He always has good reason," Janaff acknowledged, exasperated. "He's the king." It was implicitly understood between them that the emphasis was meant to underscore a trait belonging to Tibarn alone; the announcement was not fueled by title, but by long experience with the hawk in question. "That doesn't mean he can't hurry it up, though."

The wind chose precisely that moment to free the younger laguz's hair from where he'd tucked it away, and Janaff seized it irritably, forcing it back in place.

"One would think," Ulki remarked, tone deceptively bland, "that you would have gotten used to watch duty long ago."

"And one would think," Janaff returned peevishly, "that you would have a little sympathy." Sharp eyes flickered out over the scape of the land, took in the fact that an overripe piece of fruit had at last succumbed to the pull of gravity; other than that, nothing had changed. "Some of us can't entertain ourselves by eavesdropping on private affairs."

The undertone of amusement gave way to a hint of a smile. "Who's to say that I'm listening?"

For his efforts, the older laguz received a sidelong glance that proclaimed precisely how likely Janaff was to believe him.

Whatever words had been intended in response, however, were lost as an exceptionally sharp burst of wind swelled behind them, ruffling wing feathers and sending the strand of Janaff's hair to whip haphazardly in his face.

With an irritated noise, he reached for it once more- decided halfway that the action would be worthwhile for all of about a minute before the cursed weather got in the way again. And so his hand paused, retreated; grasped instead the cloth that he'd tied so painstakingly over the bulk of his hair just that morning.

A few sharp plucks of experienced fingers tugged free the knots, and the bun fell loose, surging forward to obscure his vision entirely. It wasn't until he'd begun to gather it up again, segment by careful segment, that he realized he'd attracted his companion's stare once more.

"Let me guess," the younger hawk grinned, pulling back another strand so that he could meet Ulki's eyes. "'What good is keeping watch if you can't see anything?' And then probably something about irresponsibility as well." He captured the last of it, raked his fingers through once to make sure he'd got it all, and began twisting his hair together so that it wouldn't come free so easily next time. "Am I right?"

The pause was long enough to make Janaff wonder whether the teasing had, perhaps, rubbed the wrong way. But his companion's expression was as hard to read as always, sharp features making that narrow face ever-severe, and by the time Ulki's reply came, the younger hawk was on the verge of hurrying them along to a different subject.

"Actually," Ulki said, voice as steady as it had been before, "I was thinking that it's much longer than I'd expected."

An incredulous stare greeted the words; adept fingers paused in the midst of their task.

The laugh, when it came, was pleased.

"It is a bit out of hand," Janaff agreed easily, and began to force the small segment of fabric over his newly-coiled mass of hair. "Starting to get so it falls out if I'm not careful."

Ulki spared him a sidelong glance, subtle smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "So be careful."

"Or I could just cut it a bit." The accompanying shrug was dismissive, and careful fingers wound a strip of cord around the lately wrapped bun before beginning work on the first knot. "S'easier that way."

"Now," said Ulki evenly, "is where I'll say something about irresponsibility."

The grin returned, narrow and impish, to spark mischief in the younger hawk's eyes. "You just like my hair long," he teased, tugging the final loop neatly into place.

And had Janaff been looking at his companion in that instant, the surprise that flickered, brief and uncharacteristic, over Ulki's stern features might have piqued his interest. But those keen eyes were distracted by a sight he'd been waiting to see for what seemed an eternity: the face of his king.

"Finally!" Janaff crowed, triumphant.

The word was barely out of his mouth before lips were melting away, replaced by the hard curve of a beak.

-end part 1-