A/N: Well, for Yzak's birthday, I decided to go back in time. I changed my writing style a bit to reflect that here. This is the very beginning of their relationship. Before the attack that destroyed Heliopolis, before Yzak started trusting Dearka completely, before they were inseparable. Before Dearka developed a strawberry fetish, but we'll get to that at the end…
Yzak Joule slammed his foot into the doorjamb in irritation. The sliding metal door missed his toes by millimeters as it slid callously shut, oblivious to his outrage. The soldiers to his left and right averted their gazes, eager to avoid a wrathful confrontation with the hotheaded youth. They watched from peripheral vision as he glided past, inhaling deep, calming breaths. The silver-haired wraith was determined to calm himself.
He smoothed his crimson uniform with lithe, pale fingers, narrowing his hard blue eyes as he caught a soldier from the lower rank staring. His insides boiled — he wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers about the hapless man's neck and throttle him until his murderous energy subsided, but he coolly refrained. A soldier must learn to control his emotions. A wry grin lit up the Coordinator's delicate features. For ZAFT.
His fist collided with the wall even as he tore down the hallway, and he let loose a string of wild curses.
So much for suppressing his unyielding temper.
"Yzak!" The voice floated along the tinny corridor and forced him to halt in his heated tracks.
The pale boy turned despite himself. He was met by the gentle contours of a muscled, tanned figure drawing nearer, reams of perfectly golden hair brushed back in waves from a brow wrinkled in concern. Yzak sneered and pivoted on his heel, marching off to the tune of the other boy's pleas that begged him to slow down.
"Shut up," the pale youth grumbled, struggling to block out the presence of the other male. "I don't have time for you right now." But it was with a jolt of surprise that he realized he had stopped, and before he knew it Dearka Elsman had skidded to a standstill beside him, panting.
"What on earth do you want?" the silver-haired pilot demanded testily, crossing his arms over his narrow chest in disgust.
"Do I need an excuse to want to talk to you?" Dearka straightened, one brow lifted in a caustic sort of smirk while his violet eyes twinkled with mischief.
Yzak felt a small lurch in his stomach, but he maintained his outer nonchalance with careful skill. "Anything wrong?" he inquired flatly.
"You mean you actually care?" No doubt about it. There was an obnoxious element of teasing sarcasm there now.
"Don't get your boots in a jumble, Elsman. I don't care at all. I was just curious." Yzak grimaced and made for their room in a vain escape attempt, only to realize seconds later that they shared the same living quarters. He cursed the Vesalius and its lack of vacant sleeping facilities.
Dearka followed him into the dim interior of their room and slouched against the wall. "Care to tell me why you threw a fit after speaking with the Commander?" His lips quirked into an amused grin.
Yzak strove not to lash out at him. That grin was always such a mockery.
"It's none of your business."
"Nicol said you were trying to get the day off."
"Good for him. That little coward is a better eavesdropper than I thought." He jerked his desk chair out of his way and began rifling through various drawers in vain.
Dearka chuckled, a low sound that was almost seductive in its smoothness. "Actually, it was Athrun that told him."
"Zala. That bastard." Yzak snorted, too distracted to explode at the sound of the Aegis pilot's name. "And how did he know what I was up to?"
Dearka paused, and then his voice came out soft and quiet. "It's not like it's a big secret, Yzak."
The silver-haired youth froze, temporarily immobilized by the statement. Then he blinked and resumed his fruitless search, his focus fuzzy though he tried not to lose his composure. Dearka's voice cut the silence once more.
"Yzak…"
The addressed male closed his fingers around the object he'd been searching for. He whirled around, arranging his features into a triumphant glimmer of a sly smile. Dearka gaped at the package of sweets in his hands, utterly baffled as the neat bag of candy in its crinkling plastic was offered to him.
The blonde remained motionless. "What's that for?" he asked suspiciously.
Yzak recoiled, taking the proffered stash of sweets back with a huff. "It's candy, for crying out loud! What do you think it's for, idiot?" He angrily inserted a string of red licorice into his pursed lips and chewed irritably.
"I didn't think you ate that stuff very often," Dearka observed, watching as his friend tumbled onto his bed and sat, brooding.
"I don't," came the preoccupied response. "Do you want some or not?" He wondered vaguely if Dearka thought him odd for suddenly craving sugar.
The blonde appeared tentative. "What flavor?" he asked cautiously, while Yzak read the package to him.
"Strawberry."
The announcement seemed to strike a chord inside the tanned boy's head, for Dearka fell silent and looked mildly astonished.
Yzak was tired of his roommate's indecision. He sighed. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?"
"Me?" Dearka exclaimed, incensed. "You're the one who threw a fit because you couldn't have today off."
"We're docked at Carpentaria. There's been no sign of the Earth Forces for days, and we aren't moving in on Heliopolis for another week." His brow darkened. "There's no reason why I shouldn't be allowed to go."
Dearka seated himself a safe distance from his fellow Coordinator, sinking onto the bed and leaning back in thought. "Athrun, commander's pet that he is… He stuck up for you after you stormed out."
Yzak's hand froze mid-motion, floppy piece of red licorice hovering in front of his mouth. "What?"
"He told Commander Le Creuset that you work harder than any of us." His violet eyes were focused somewhere in the distance.
Yzak didn't know whether to feel outraged or secretly content. He hated the thought of being pitied by his adversary, but at the same time, a glimmer of elation threatened to assault him. Maybe all his teammates cared after all.
"Pass me a licorice," Dearka ordered, and Yzak fixed him with a smoldering glare.
"Now you want one? Get your own." He frowned as the blonde reached over him and snatched the wrinkled bag from his grip. "Hey."
"Strawberry is the only flavor I like," Dearka exclaimed.
Yzak watched him with a baffled gaze as he helped himself. "Glutton."
The Buster pilot winked. "Strawberry," he informed the pale youth again. "I have to." He offered the bag back once he'd taken his handful, but Yzak shook his head.
"Just eat them." He was glad, at least, that his comrade was enjoying the sweets. He turned his head away, suddenly feeling sick. At once he thought about cake. Even if he'd had one, he probably wouldn't have been able to finish it. The Duel pilot had never been one to indulge in too many desserts.
He could feel Dearka's eyes on him.
"Didn't you mother put in a request for you?"
Yzak's face went sour, and he could tell the blonde immediately regretted his inquiry. "No, she didn't. I assume she's rather busy with council meetings."
"But still…" A hint of disapproval washed over his sturdy features as he trailed off.
"Just shut up about it, okay?" Yzak tossed his head and took pleasure in the perfect way the long, silvery strands fell back into place. "She'll lavish me with attention soon enough, like she always does when she realizes she's missed something important."
"Does she always do that?"
"I hate it." Yzak knew he hadn't quite answered the question, but he didn't feel the opposite male deserved an elaboration. In fact, the presence of the Buster pilot was starting to irritate him.
"Well," the blonde ventured, absently nibbling on an end of licorice, "If it makes you feel better, both my mother and father always forget my birthday."
Yzak grimaced at the word he'd been avoiding as it was thrust into the open, birthday, and he gritted his teeth hard.
"Too many people in my family to keep track of," Dearka went on, and suddenly Yzak made sense of the boy's cocky attitude, his sardonic nature, and constant pranks and humor. With a smirk he concluded that the tanned soldier must have been a middle child.
"Stop acting like I care, will you?" Yzak's voice came out strained. "It's not important, so don't act all sympathetic. It's sickening."
Dearka snorted. "I don't feel sympathetic at all. You're a bad-tempered ass with a rich mommy who probably buys you a present for every candle on your birthday cake."
Yzak was struck dumb; stunned. Never had he seen himself as spoiled. He felt his anger rising, and he opened his mouth to attack his opponent with an explosion of colorful curses and insults. Then he saw Dearka wink.
"Just kidding," he quipped, unafraid of the crazed look of fury in the silver-haired youth's eyes. "Actually," he said, reclining on the bed with one piece of licorice still in his hand, "You're completely different than I thought you'd be when I heard your mother was Ezalia Joule from the PLANT Supreme Council."
Yzak had to work to get his lips to form coherent words. "Your father is on the council as well," he spat.
The blonde only shrugged. "Yeah." Then something playful slid across his face in a slideshow of expression. "Why do you have the strawberry kind, anyway?"
Yzak's head reeled. He could barely follow the path of the other soldier's thinking. "Why the hell does it matter to you?"
"You don't seem like the type." A wide grin split his face in two. "A moody guy like you ought to be eating the sour apple."
"Licorice in that flavor is abnormal!" Yzak burst out, disgusted at the mere thought. "And besides, I don't like the strawberry either. Shut your trap and just eat it so I don't have to."
The look on the blonde boy's face predicted an impending battle over nothing, and Yzak let out an annoyed sigh. He'd known Dearka for almost a year now, and still he could not fathom the boy's eager approach to life, the carefree, laid-back attitude with which he faced everything. Even during their intense training, the blonde had never lost his veil of relaxation and cool. Still, perhaps some part of him was glad to have the blonde at his side.
"You know Yzak, you didn't tell anyone today was your birthday."
Yzak blinked. "So what? What does that matter? It doesn't concern anyone else." His insides curled. He hated the thought of flaunting his own personal holiday about the ship like a pompous young child.
Dearka seemed to read his thoughts. "I didn't mean you had to run around and tell everyone. But you could have told me. And Athrun and Nicol. They only figured it out by watching you explode today and piecing it together."
"Buzz off," Yzak suddenly burst out, sick of the implications and accusations in the other male's tone. "I said I didn't care, didn't I? Shut up already."
Dearka snickered, oblivious to the tint of peril in his teammate's voice. "We could have thrown you a little party."
"Do I look like I'm turning nine years old to you?" Yzak spat.
"You look like you could use some more licorice to help you celebrate."
"Be quiet, Elsman," Yzak fumed.
"No. Have the last piece."
"Arrgh!" The pale youth flung the empty package across the room, striving to hold back his explosive temper while ignoring the offered last piece. To his dismay, Dearka laughed.
Yzak blinked in awe. "What the hell is so funny, you bastard?"
Tears of mirth were streaming down the other boy's face. "All it takes is strawberry licorice to piss you off and get you back to normal."
Yzak blushed, whipping his head around to hide his face. "Sh-shut up. You get on my nerves, Dearka, that's all."
"Glad to hear I cheered you up on your birthday, then," he grinned charmingly. "And that's the first time since you've known me that you've called me by my first name." His violet eyes glittered.
The silver-haired male clenched his teeth and fought back the increasing thumping in his chest.
Dearka leaned forward and caught him with a gentle, teasing kiss. The blonde's lips were firm and commanding, and the sensation sent soft shivers up and down Yzak's spine. Too astonished to react, the Duel pilot submitted to the brief encounter.
"You taste like strawberry," Dearka murmured as he drew away, running his tongue casually over his lower lip.
Yzak could do nothing but glare, struggling to find words that would properly reprimand his daring team member. But all he could manage was another uncontrollable flush that reddened his pale complexion.
"I-idiot."
The tanned youth fixed him with a sly grin. "I like it. You taste good."
"T-too much licorice has gotten to your brain," Yzak stammered, suddenly aware that he was being pushed onto his back on the bed. "Dearka!"
He felt the blonde gently seize his wrists and pin them above his head. Then the Buster pilot shifted until he was leaning over his pale quarry, inches away and grinning roguishly. He kissed Yzak again on the side of the neck, and it was then that the Duel pilot realized they were about to venture into a realm where neither of them had ever gone.
The silver-haired boy felt a small tingle on his skin where his fellow Coordinator had left a mark, and he decided that come what may, he might as well accept the idea that he and Dearka shared a bond that went deeper than he'd previously imagined it could have. Dearka always seemed to understand. He cared.
"Happy birthday, Yzak Joule," came the low whisper at his ear, and with a shudder of delight, he let the new wave of pleasure assault him.
A/N: Well, now you know why in all my stories, Dearka is rather partial to strawberry flavored things. It all started long ago and just stuck. Kawaii desu, ne? I thought I should write a piece that cleared up that mystery. xP