Whee, my first yaoi fic. It's long, so sit back and enjoy the ride. Oh, and since it is yaoi, if you don't like it, don't flame it. I happen to like it, though.

Disclaimer: I don't own FE. Blargh.


Hot nights, cold love, and the scent of Heath and Lavender

"Must be this thing called 'love', you know?"

Those were eight of the stupidest words Heath had ever heard, directed at himself, no less. Stupid, silly, vile words, uttered by a person of about the same description. "Must be this thing called love"…bah. He normally would've shrugged it off, even laughed about it and patted Legault on the back; but hidden under the devious smirk and honeyed tongue was the look in the thief's eyes when he said them. Heath couldn't describe it, but softness in them made it look as though there was truth in those words, even though Legault had vehemently denied it afterward.

If only he hadn't said it when they were fighting, then Heath would've even ignored the look in his eyes. But his service in Bern had ingrained one thing into his skull: Battlefields were no place to joke around. On the battlefield, everything was taken seriously. Heath had seen too many men die from carelessness and joking around. The way Legault said those things…about wanting to travel with him after this journey was over…yeah, that needed to be taken seriously. Especially because of the way he denied it.

So Heath had avoided him afterwards, and for several days after that, too. He helped Merlinus organize their supplies; fed, watered, and groomed the horses; and once, out of sheer desperation to get away from Legault, went with Nino and Rebecca to gather flowers. He wasn't sure if he would ever recover from that experience, but it had given him a look into the minds of girls…a painful, pink, flowery, extremely disturbing look, but a look nonetheless.

Skip to now—now being a few hours after the flower-gathering incident. Dinner time was one of the things Heath dreaded most, since Legault would usually be winking and grinning at him over his drink. Tonight, though, the thief was different. His face was downcast and sullen, and he kept his eyes locked on his stew. The wyvern rider felt a pang of guilt at the change in Legault's demeanor, but then again, Heath wouldn't be avoiding him if the thief hadn't tried to hit on him. Still, it was disconcerting to see such a usually happy-go-lucky guy that depressed. Even when Legault walked away, it was with none of his typical swagger.

Did I really hurt him that badly? Heath thought as he watched the thief talk to Nino. I mean, come on, he should've seen that coming. Me and him…absurd beyond absurdity. He turned away, shaking his head, and went back to eating.

"Hey, Heath!" The wyvern rider looked up, and smiled meekly at Nino. Despite being an annoying little kid at times, she had this charisma that made it almost impossible to dislike her. "What's up, Nino?" He asked.

"Uncle Legault wanted me to give you this." She handed him a piece of paper. "That's all. Will you come pick flowers with me and Rebecca tomorrow?"

Heath laughed and shook his head. "No thanks, Nino. I'm flowered-out for now."

"Okay. See you later!" She skipped off, leaving Heath to scowl at the piece of paper given to him. He unfolded it and read:

Heath

I'm sorry for scaring you, but I need to talk to you. Meet me in my tent later.

Legault

Heath snorted and tore the paper into shreds. They had already been talking too much for his tastes, thank you very much. If Legault would just get the memo and leave him alone, then maybe he would consider talking to him again. As it was, all he wanted was for that creepy thief to leave him alone. With a sigh, he quickly finished his food and went to his tent.

Heath had an hour of uninterrupted reading before he heard the flap of his tent flutter back. He looked up, grimacing when he saw that it was Legault. "What do you want?" Heath snapped, standing up.

"I knew you wouldn't have the guts to show up tonight," Legault said dryly, running his fingers along the fabric of the tent walls. "I gave you an hour, even though you destroyed my note. I thought we could have a little chat." The thief looked at Heath and grinned, though it was vapid and devoid of all mirth. "I guess I was wrong, eh?"

"Legault, go away." Heath took a few steps towards him. "I know why you're here, and I don't care about whatever apologies you think you need to make about that stupid thing you said. Just leave."

"I'm not apologizing for that!" Legault yelled. "I can't apologize for the way I feel!"

Heath blinked. Legault's voice was serious for once, and even a little hurt. It was totally unlike him…but maybe Heath didn't know him after all.

"Legault…just leave…" Heath turned away from the thief, and waited to look back until he heard the flap of the tent rustle. When he did look, Legault was gone, but he had left another note behind. Heath picked it up, and it said, Must be this thing called love…


Maybe I was too harsh…Heath pondered, lying on his back and staring at the dark ceiling of the tent. Sleep wasn't coming to him, no matter hard he tried, so he was left to think about Legault and his words. How could that thief…the one that enjoyed tormenting him at every turn, be in love with him? It was impossible…yet it had happened… Heath could hardly believe it. Things like that happened in the silly stories he was forced to listen to as a child, not to actual people. Then again, this whole journey had been a silly story coming to life, so he shouldn't have been so surprised. It was just so stupid.

The tent flap moved, startling Heath out of his thoughts. He laid still, not daring to breathe as footsteps moved towards him, and wincing he heard them kneel beside him. It's couldn't be…

"It's okay," Legault whispered, brushing Heath's lips with a finger. "It's me."

Yes, it was. Great… "What are—"

"You don't get to speak," Legault whispered irritably, placing his finger firmly on Heath's lips. "I tried this on your level, now I'm doing it on mine." The scent of alcohol was heavy on the thief's breath, making Heath wrinkle his nose in disgust. "Come back when you're sober," The wyvern rider growled.

Legault laughed. "I don't have the courage to enter an armed wyvern rider's tent when I'm sober." The thief ran a hand through Heath's hair. The wyvern rider didn't resist the touch. It felt kind of good. "Heath…I—"

"I don't want to know," He interrupted, though his voice faltered for a moment. Legault's fingers had moved from Heath's hair and were now stroking his cheeks. It was starting to feel good…almost too good. He squirmed slightly, making the thief laugh again.

"Does it hurt, Heath?" Legault asked, slurring his words a little.

"No…" Heath whimpered. "I don't mind it at all. It's just…Legault…I—" He was cut off by Legault swinging his leg over the bed, straddling Heath across his midsection and leaning down until their faces were just mere inches from each other.

"Does this hurt?" The thief asked playfully, caressing Heath's cheeks with a rough hand.

"N-n-no…" Heath stuttered. Legault laughed yet again, except this time, it sounded more seductive than playful, and it sent a pleasant chill down Heath's spine.

"Good." Legault leaned forward, and barely kissed Heath's lips, lingering long enough to give the wyvern rider a taste, but ending it all too quickly.

"I should be going and let you get some sleep," The thief teased. He started to leave, but Heath roughly pulled him back, panting slightly.

"No." Heath ran a hand through Legault's lavender hair, pulling him closer. "I want you."

Legault responded by closing Heath's mouth with his own, exploring the taller man's mouth with his tongue. The wyvern rider moaned, though the noise was quickly swallowed by Legault's kiss. Heath had been kissed before, but never like this. It was never enough to send chills down his spine, never enough to taste the raw passion. It was suffocating, disorienting, nauseating, and the most delicious thing he had ever experienced. Heath closed his eyes and return the kiss,letting himself be engulfed in Legault's enthusiasm.

"Relax," came Legault's smooth whisper. "You're far too tense."

"I'm trying," Heath murmured. It was hard to relax when the thief was starting to unbutton his shirt, leaving kisses across Heath's chest as he did so. He did try, though, letting his body ease into Legault's touch as he felt his eyes rolled back into his head. Saint Elimine, it felt so good…

"That's better, Heath." Legault kissed the wyvern rider's lips again. "Don't fight me."

"Why me, Legault?" Heath opened his eyes. "Of all the people in this army, why do you want me?"

Legault's lavender hair was strewn about his face, sticking in places from sweat, catching what little light there was as it moved with his panting. His eyes glittered with his grin; he looked genuinely happy. "Must be this thing called love, you know?" He said softly, caressing Heath's face. "I love you, Heath."

And the night went on.


Unnnh…Too much light…

Heath slowly blinked himself awake, noticing at first that he was cold. He soon determined that this was because of his lack of clothing, and the lack of clothing led him back to last night, and…

Legault…Damn… Heath buried his face in his pillow. My God, what was I thinking? He dug his fingers into the pillow, biting back the urge to scream. Why did…how could…it all was so blurry to the wyvern rider.

I'll kill him when I find him… Where is he, anyway? Legault wasn't beside him, as Heath had expected him to be. With another groan, the wyvern rider hauled himself out of bed and dressed slowly, trying to keep his mind blank of all thoughts, without much success. Legault's image kept dancing through his head, making him shudder each time he could picture the thief's smirking face clearly. He hated him. Every smirk, every chuckle, every sly wink. Damn him to a painful, lonely death.

A scrap of dark-purple cloth on his pillow caught Heath's attention, and he picked it up, frowning slightly. It was Legault's headband, left there on purpose more than likely, so Heath would have an excuse to find the thief. Knowing he would have to face him anyway, the wyvern rider exited his tent, grumbling to himself.

Legault was sitting on the ground outside the mess tent, drinking what looked like coffee. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, contrasting with his pallid skin; he looked tired, but content. As Heath approached him, Legault looked up and grinned, sweeping his disheveled lavender hair out of his eyes.

"Good morning, Heath," the thief said brightly, sipping his drink again.

"You look like hell," Heath commented dryly, handing him the headband. Legault nodded, quickly tying it around his forehead.

"Did you sleep well?" Legault asked.

"Like you don't know," Heath whispered savagely, squatting next to him. Legault sighed, stirring his coffee with his forefinger.

"I left after I was sure you were asleep," The thief said quietly, not looking at Heath. "I thought it would be better if I didn't stay."

They both fell silent, looking out at the rest of the company preparing to break camp. After a moment, Heath decided to break the silence. He had to get this out, and it wasn't going to be easy. Rehearsing it in his head for a couple of seconds, he tapped Legault on the shoulder.

"Yes?" The shorter man said, an eyebrow raised.

"Legault...I can't be with you," The wyvern rider said simply, running a hand through his hair. "I know you said you…liked me… but I can't. Please understand."

Legault just stared at Heath, a confused expression on his face. "But...we had sex..."

"I know this is hard," Heath continued as if he hadn't heard the thief. He had just rehearsed this, and he wasn't going to waste it. "But I'm on the run, as I told you, and while...while you're my...friend, I guess, I'm not going to put you in danger like that."

"But we had sex," Legault interjected.

"This is as nice as I can put it," The wyvern rider continued yet again, a little louder this time. "You're an okay guy and all, but traveling together...we'd kill each other over time. I mean...You know..."

"But we had sex..."

"I KNOW WE HAD SEX, DAMMIT!" Heath screamed. Several people in the camp looked in their general direction, making the wyvern rider turn beet-red. Standing up, he quickly dragged Legault off behind a tent out of earshot, then whispered, "I know we had sex! It was the best sex I have ever had, but—"

"I bet it was the only sex you've ever had," Legault mumbled.

"That's not the point---GAH!"

"Gotcha, Heath my love."

"Legault..." Heath glared at the shorter man, who was smirking with delight. "Why do you do this to me?"

"I like screwing with you." The smirk widened. "Both mentally and physically."

Heath's following "AAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHH" could be heard for at least a furlong.

"Oh, come on, Heath, it's not that terrible."

The wyvern rider turned away from Legault, breathing hard. It was taking every ounce of self-control Heath had to keep from breaking every bone in the thief's body. "Legault," He snarled, still not looking at him. "I never want to be with you. I hate you. I hate everything about you, from your voice to your stupid smile. You completely disgust me." At this point, Heath turned back to Legault, an expression of pure anger on his face. "I've tried to be nice, but you're too thick to take a hint. Now, leave me alone."

Any normal man would've been afraid. Even a stupid man might've realized that Heath was in no mood to be trifled with. But, as Heath realized, Legault was neither normal nor stupid. All the thief did was…smile.

"Heath, I know you don't mean that," He said, taking a step towards the wyvern rider. "If you had, then you wouldn't have let me continue last night."

"Legault, don't…"

"Heath, don't be so coy. I can see it in your eyes: You have feelings for me."

"I do not," Heath snapped. "I merely hate you."

"Heh, hate is not the opposite of love, Heath," Legault said, his tone getting firmer. "You're mistaking that with indifference." Heath could almost hear the thief's smile widen. "Besides, you were the one that wanted me to stay, remember?"

Heath suddenly felt his anger boil over at Legault's words. He had to release it, or else he was sure he would explode. So, he chose an obvious target, and expressed his displeasure at being goaded by whipping around and letting his fist connect with Legault's jaw.

"I SAID LEAVE ME ALONE!" The wyvern rider yelled. Legault was sprawled on the ground, unmoving except for his slow blinking. He looked dazed and somewhat surprised; all the while, Heath continued to glare at him. The both stayed in the same positions for a few seconds, until Legault rolled over, spitting a gob of blood on the ground.

"I've always wanted a hole in my tongue," The thief commented, standing up. "Thanks." His voice had a hollow, stunned sound to it, and he didn't look at Heath when he spoke. The wyvern rider felt a wave of shame wash over him, and he was aware of his cheeks turning red.

"Legault, I—"

"No," Legault interrupted, glancing at Heath. "I don't want to hear it. I'm sorry. I won't bother you anymore." Before Heath could respond, the older man swept away, but without his usual swagger. The wyvern rider watched him go, a sinking feeling in his gut. He had hurt Legault, not only physically, but mentally he realized. And for some reason, that also hurt Heath, too. It was painful to see the once arrogant rogue so… so crushed.

Wait, why am I feeling his pain?

Heath sat down, resting his head on his knees. He ran a hand through his hair, pondering what had happened over the past few days. Why had he avoided Legault in the first place? He had been hit on before, and it hadn't bothered him then. Why did Legault's actions bother—no, bother wasn't the right word. …Concern, maybe? No, that wasn't right, either. They just…made him feel differently, and it had scared him.

But, why?

Heath thought back to before that fateful conversation, thinking about how he had viewed the thief. He caught himself staring at the lavender-haired rogue at times, wondering about him, where he had come from, what his life had been like before he joined this rag-tag army. Sometimes there were other thoughts…but he usually pushed those out of the way. It wasn't until now that he remembered them. Then, when Legault said… But he couldn't! Those feelings…they scared him…he couldn't…actually…it was too short of a time, and he hated that cur. That arrogant, devilish, beautiful…

No! I hate him! I…hate…

But the feelings kept coming back, pushing the childish annoyance out of his mind. Last night had been wonderful, and he wanted more of Legault, more than just the sweet lust of the moment. He…he admitted it…

"I…I love him…" Heath breathed. "And I…I hurt him…argh, I have to tell him now!"

Legault, however, was much better at avoiding people than Heath was, despite the fact that Heath was more determined than Legault was when their roles were reversed. Even though the army was small, and they had broke camp and were marching across, Heath hadn't even caught a glimpse of the thief the whole day, even when rations where being handed out during midday. When they stopped for the night, Heath still hadn't seen hide nor hair of Legault, save for what he thought was the hem of his cape disappearing behind the mess tent. When Heath had pursued it, however, no one was there. After another hour, the wyvern rider went to his tent for the night, utterly defeated.


"What did you do!"

Heath awoke with a jolt at the sound of the voice, and rolled over so violently that he rolled off his cot, landing in a pile of sheets and flailing limbs. He slowly opened his eyes, groaning when he saw Nino standing above him, looking livid.

"I dunno…" Heath said though a yawn. "Wha' did I do?"

"Oh, gee, I was hoping you'd tell me," Nino snarled, holding her Elfire tome threateningly. "Because UNCLE LEGAULT'S ABANDONED US!"

"What!" Heath stood abruptly, kicking his blankets away from him. "What happened!"

"I told you, he left!" Nino stamped her feet, glaring at Heath. "All he said to me was that he was no longer wanted here, and that wyvern riders did not make good boyfriends."

"Oh, God…" The wyvern rider sat down on his cot, burying his head in his hands. "Oh, God, what have I done?"

"I suppose you're the reason for that huge bruise on Uncle Legault's jaw?" Nino asked dryly. Heath nodded, not wanting to look at her.

"And what are you going to do about it?" She asked, prodding him with a corner of her tome.

"I don't know…" Heath moaned into his hands. "I just don't know."

All was silent for a moment, broken only when Nino clicked her tongue impatiently. "You mean you can't see it?"

"Not really, no."

There was another moment of silence where Heath could almost feel Nino's glare increasing in intensity. Suddenly, a large, heavy object struck him in the back, sending the wyvern rider sprawling to the floor. Wincing, he looked up at Nino. The mage was holding her Elfire tome like a brick, and her eyes appeared to be on fire.

"GO FIND HIM!" She yelled. "IS IT REALLY THAT HARD TO THINK OF?"

"Alright, alright!" Heath scrambled to his feet, grabbing a shirt from the floor and pulling it over his head. "I don't know where to find him, though!"

"I do," The mage answered, the tone of her voice suggesting that she had restrained from adding the word "moron" to the end of the sentence. "He said there was a small village to the south of this camp, and he was traveling there. If you hurry, you can catch him!"

"Okay." The wyvern rider didn't even bother with his armor, and he only took an emergency sword to defend himself before he ran out to where Hyperion was sleeping. It was dawn, and the camp was just starting to awaken. Even Merlinus was still asleep when Heath darted into the supply tent to grab his wyvern's saddle. With Nino helping him, Heath managed to get the beast's saddle on in almost record time, and ready to leave before the sun had crested the horizon.

"Heath?" Nino asked as the wyvern rider was about to jump into the saddle. He looked back at the little girl, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah?"

"Do you…do you love Uncle Legault?"

Heath paused, looking at the ground. It took him a moment to finally choke out, "Yes. I do."

"Okay." She grinned. "He loves you, too."

"I know."


"LEGAULT!" Hyperion was flying low over the ground, allowing Heath to scan the area for any sign of the thief. The grass rippled about from the velocity of their flight, distorting somewhat with the shadows of the morning light. At least Legault's purple cape would be distinguishable in all the green, and Heath was grateful for that. A few moments later, he caught sight of the man trudging through the grass, his head hung low. Heath spurred Hyperion forward.

"Legault, wait!" Heath shouted. The thief spun around, watching the wyvern land, shaking his head when Heath jumped off a few feet before the beast had completely landed. The wyvern rider did a full-on sprint to the thief, and before he could object, pulled him into a tight embrace, burying his head in the shorter man's long lavender hair.

"You were right," Heath breathed, aware of tears running down his cheeks. "I do have feelings…for you…"

Legault, who had gone stiff upon the wyvern rider's hug, relaxed and returned the crushing embrace, kissing his lover on the neck.

"You were such an ass," The thief said quietly.

"I know. I hate myself for it."

"You should," Legault kissed Heath on the lips, letting their tongues connect for a moment. "Why did you come for me? You hated me. You hit me."

Heath looked at the bruise on Legault jaw, and kissed it softly, then looked at the thief and smiled sadly. "Must be this thing called love, you know?"


R&R, please!