Tsunami
Warning: This contains yaoi content. Consider yourself warned.
There was something about the way the blond licked his strawberry ice cream cone. He did it carefully, sensitively, almost as if he expected everyone around him to fantasize that they were the sweet desert that Dearka Elsman constantly craved...
Yzak gave himself a mental slap, schooling his expression of curious fascination into his usual angry glower. He took his own cone from the bewildered lady who had taken his money and went to join the people who insisted they were his friends.
"Ha," laughed Zala, pointing at Yzak, "you and your ice cream match!"
Yzak wished a freak tidal wave would just sweep right up the beach and carry Zala out to shark-infested waters. If it weren't for Mr. Athrun I'll-defect-when-I-wanna-'cause-I'm-a-loser Zala, Yzak would have the sun, the sand, and the blue waves to himself and his sexy subordinate. Hopefully the excuse for a pilot would have to go and actually make himself useful at his new job, leaving the area so that Yzak and Dearka could...
Another mental slap. Yzak had to admit that in the past month his obsession with Dearka's hard, tanned, muscular body had deepened. Considerably.
"... of course it's not vanilla! That would match only superficially," Dearka was saying, his violet eyes glinting with mischief. "If I know Yzak, that's lemon-lime sorbet." He winked at his commander playfully, and Yzak glared back to his hide his blush.
"Not vanilla, huh," Athrun said, and then got the joke.
"Bastards," Yzak sneered. He turned towards the water and began licking his sorbet, trying to pretend that he wasn't pretending the slightly sweet stuff wasn't one of his friend's intimate places.
"Wow, Yzak, you seem to be really enjoying that sorbet of yours," Dearka said, hiding a bemused smile behind his rather pink, rather large, rather... suggestively shaped mound of ice cream. It was only natural that three scoops of ice cream turned into something like that after numerous, long strokes of Dearka's tongue.
Yzak felt his face flush.
"I-It's actually really hot out here, don't you think? I'm going in the water already," he stammered, forcing his eyes off the Dearka and onto the ocean waves.
"Nah, it's perfect out. You're the only one who's hot," the blond answered, his tongue flicking out to the ice cream. Yzak knew that Dearka was oblivious to his own words, and that a certain body part needed to be drenched in cold water.
"Idiot!" Yzak yelled for no particular reason. He hurried to the water before his traitorous swim shorts gave away his thoughts.
Yzak stood chest-deep, staring at Dearka and Zala with the eyes of a vengeful god. Instead of chasing after him and making that smooth skin wet with salty water, Dearka had pulled out the volleyball net and was setting it up with Zala. Stupid council's pet Zala didn't deserve to be that close to his Dearka.
Er, his subordinate. Yzak would not allow himself to use a possessive adjective unless he said something technically correct that was also appropriate for small children.
Yzak dunked his head underwater for a moment, hoping to clear his head. All of this was stupid, he realized when he resurfaced. There was no way he'd ever let Dearka know it took considerable strength to tear his eyes off the boy's body, or that he had started having vivid, erotic dreams that left hims shaking, sweating, and gasping for air when he woke up.
Remembering last night's escapade in dreamland sent a feverish rush through Yzak's body, so he dunked himself again.
How had he come to this? If it got any worse, he'd have to the his hands behind his back to keep them from wandering over every centimeter of Dearka's naked skin. This thought, of course, didn't help Yzak and his overly imaginative mind.
The truth was that Yzak knew why he was so miserable, why his problem seemed to get worse each day, instead of getting better.
In some strange way, Dearka had always flirted with him, Yzak was sure. No, it wasn't "some strange way," Yzak corrected himself, it was just that Dearka loved teasing his commander and pushing him to his limit. Dearka had always randomly pretended he found Yzak attractive, but after last month, Dearka's antics no longer pissed him off.
He knew it all was connected to that day when Dearka had taken the joke too far. Yzak still didn't know if it was an accident or not.
Yzak had been at his desk, finishing up some rough drafts for Lacus Clyne's peace administration's charter. He'd been debating how much commitment ZAFT should pledge when the annoying, troublemaking blond had entered the room.
"Man, Yzak," he'd complained, "don't you ever do anything fun?"
"Not now, Elsman," Yzak had replied curtly.
"You never have time for me..." The blond had whined, and Yzak had rolled his eyes when he knew that it would be one of those jokes.
"But..." Dearka had said loudly, dramatically, startling Yzak so much he had dropped his pen. "But... oh, would you like me to grab your pen?" Dearka had asked, looking at the cylindrical object which had rolled off the desk.
"Yes, because it's your lazy ass's fault that I dropped it!" Yzak had massaged his temples, closing his eyes and looking with displeasure to the coming night.
His eyes had flown open when a sudden weight settled in his lap. Dearka had been sitting on him, straddling him.
His friend's right hand had touched his temple and begun to massage in a gentle circular motion.
Yzak had glared and crossed his arms.
"Oh, you work too hard, baby," Dearka had crooned softly.
"Don't you 'baby' me! Where's my pen and don't sit on me!"
The trouble had always been with how Yzak worded his requests.
Dearka had suddenly leaned forward, his moist breath tickling Yzak's left ear and his right hand had slid behind Yzak's head, his fingers parting the fine silver strands of hair. Dearka's left hand had settled firmly on Yzak's thigh, and Yzak had been to stunned to do anything but gasp in something like fear, outrage, and a sudden longing.
"Then, my love," Dearka had whispered huskily, "shall I lie on you and find your...pen?" Dearka's fingers had begun to slowly slither upwards, underneath the long white ZAFT commander's coat.
That had been when Yzak had lost it.
He had panted out a growl and writhed in the chair, which had somehow resulted in the worst mistake of the evening.
The chair had toppled over backwards, sending the two boys to the floor in a tangled mess of hands and legs and lips and other appendages.
Yzak had become aware of several things, after the thud of hitting the floor disappeared from his head, and the sudden combination had been too much. Yzak had yelled loudly, Dearka had apologized hastily, and then the green coat had left the room quickly.
They had never spoken about the incident, but Yzak had returned to that moment many times since then, if only in his own mind.
Yzak dunked himself again, shaking his head as he broke the surface. (He didn't know that at least four teenage boys mistook him for a girl in that sparkling, water droplet-filled moment, and that at least two were seriously interested in taking the "babe" home.)
He looked to the shore an pretended to watch the volleyball game when in reality he was watching the sweating, glistening body of a certain volleyball player. Dearka lept into the air to deliver a powerful spike at the sand near Zala's feet. Dearka's deliciously toned muscles rippled, and the boy let out a triumphant "Ha!" when the ball hit the sand. Sinuous shoulders rolled and produced a similar motion in Yzak's stomach.
Zala ducked under the net and said something to Dearka. The defective--well, technically he had only defected, but to Yzak it was really all the same--pilot retrieved his shirt, flip-flops, and tacky sunglasses. Yzak remembered with glee that Athrun had said he might have to meet with his political hotshot of a girlfriend, and leave Yzak and Dearka together on the beach.
Wait. Glee? Yzak was trying to hide how he desired the dark-skinned boy now making his way towards him with single-minded determination.
Yzak swallowed.
Unfortunately, he swallowed some sea water, and was suddenly spluttering like an idiot. The golden-haired god of lust was still approaching, so Yzak kicked off the sandy bottom to swim out further where he could cough out salt water in peace.
Yzak couldn't have known that doing this was similar to yelling and writhing in an unbalanced chair, at least as far as results were concerned.
Almost immediately his foot caught for a moment on some piece of discarded rope, and his momentum caused his head to swing under the surface.
A thud echoed into his head as his foot was released, but he didn't have any time to register anything else.
"Stop playing around, Yzak," Dearka said when he reached the spot his friend had recently vacated.
"Ow!" he yelled as his knuckle scraped against something hard sticking up randomly out of the sea floor. He felt along it and realized it was a large, rusted anchor. A few old yellow ropes were waving aimlessly around it like tentacles ready to snare the unfortunate passerby.
With that thought, Dearka became suddenly, incredibly, unbearably worried.
"Yzak!!!"
When he awoke, Yzak had a sudden feeling of déjà vu.
His head hurt, and there was a large weight on top of him. There was one hand cupping his jaw, or maybe this time it was checking his pulse. This time there was no one accidentally (but literally) manhandling his very precious...pen.
Yzak was just about to open his eyes when the warm, slick weight atop him shifted and the hand checking his pulse moved up to press against his jaw and chin while another familiar hand slid under his head.
When those firm lips pressed down forcefully on his, Yzak had parted his lips and kissed back before he realized what was going on.
HIs eyes opened wildly as a pair of purple ones drew back in surprise. Yzak suddenly felt a searing flame of desire light in his loins. He gasped as the sudden movement of Dearka drawing back caused their warm, wet bodies to rub against each other. Yzak gasped again and placed one hand on Dearka's warm back.
"That's supposed to be the kiss of life, not the kiss of..." Dearka began, trying to lighten the suddenly dark and powerful mood. He had however, run out of words as Yzak's hand had found its way smoothing up his back and had begun knotting itself in his hair.
Dearka leaned closer giving way to gravity, and other forces that, during that moment, seemed just as strong.
"Aren't you worried about anyone else on the beach?" Dearka breathed, his voice a tantalizing whisper that Yzak could barely make sense of. His head was spinning, and he had long ago decided that his heart was outpacing any hummingbird's.
"People?" he gasped, placing his other hand on Dearka's side. He dared to kiss the other's neck, and was delighted by the sticky, salty effect of the sea water under the hot sun on Dearka.
Dearka vaguely wondered if Yzak had been deprived of oxygen (or sex?) for far too long, but he was having trouble thinking, especially while Yzak was panting underneath him, kissing him fiercely and letting his hands rove all over his bare back and sides. He'd never been opposed to physical intimacy with anyone, man or woman, and Dearka knew that no man or woman seemed particularly opposed to physical intimacy with him. Even so...Yzak?
In all honesty, his commander sucked at hiding the truth and Dearka could read the temperamental soldier like his third grade summer reading list. Nonetheless, Dearka found Yzak sucking at something else, which happened to be his earlobe, and was surprised. He had never thought that Yzak, high and mighty commander of ZAFT forces, would let himself succumb to his base and sordid desires. It had been fun teasing his superior to no end and watching as he pretended his face was flushing due to rage, not sexual fantasies, but this...
"You're lucky the water carried us as far as it did, Commander," Dearka murmured, watching the twin fires of lust burn brighter in Yzak's usually cold blue eyes. He allowed one arm to tighten around Yzak's shoulders as the other slid down to grasp Yzak's slender waist.
Yzak's arms wrapped around Dearka and he pulled his partner close, into a deep and penetrating kiss. His tongue flicked around deliciously, and when the idea that Dearka was actually enjoying himself floated to the surface of his mind, Yzak found himself not underneath a crashing wave of passion, but riding on top of it with an exhilaration he had never dreamed of.
He squirmed deliciously under Dearka, running his fingers lightly up and down the other's back, which was becoming quite hot from the sun. He dragged his mouth and trailed his tongue from Dearka's cheek, down his throat, and to the blond's collarbone.
Alarm bells went off in Dearka's mind when he realized that Yzak was no longer slave to his lust, and was cooperating with it in a devilish fashion. Dearka wasn't sure how far he wanted to continue on like this with someone he considered his best friend, but said best friend just slid his hands down viciously to Dearka's hips and was toying with the waistband of his swim shorts.
Dearka pulled his head up, feeling as if gravity had become twelve times stronger. An unfamiliar smirk of desire and power and enjoyment was plastered on Yzak's face, and Dearka couldn't help himself.
He like that look. He liked it a lot. That look, combined with Yzak's soft bucking, slithery hands, and smooth, wet skin made Dearka want to give in and gladly become the commander's toy.
But still, he had the feeling that Yzak was not using his brain to think. And if their lust was sated...
He would probably be pissed.
Sensing the blond's reluctance, Yzak twisted and hooked a leg over Dearka's, preventing any escape. The grin widened, and Dearka felt his insides go weak. It was not often that someone made him wish to be helpless and used like this, but Dearka was finding Yzak's unspoken proposition very hard to resist.
Yzak suddenly pushed Dearka's torso up and flipped him onto his back in the warm sand. Dearka was prepared to lay there, panting, until Yzak said something, but Yzak had no intention of talking, or stopping.
The commander pushed himself onto Dearka, straddling him across his stomach, and put both hands onto the sides of Dearka's face as he placed a burning kiss onto Dearka's lips. The kiss continued, stealing Dearka's air and pushing all thought from his mind, as Yzak's hands slid down his neck, out to his shoulders, running across his chest. Yzak scooted lower and broke the kiss. He seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the feeling of leaning forward to slide his hands across Dearka's taut abdomen.
Yzak rolled his hips forward and settled himself neatly atop the prostrate blond. Both gasped at the sensation, and Yzak's shudder of pleasure swept through his entire body. Dearka's swim shorts had never felt like too little and too much clothing at the same time.
"Yzak..." Dearka panted, hoping to get the chance to talk some sense into the apparently fearless commander. After the word was out of his mouth, however, he realized it must have sounded like a lustful moan. "I mean, Yza--"
His voice raised in pitch on the name as Yzak pressed himself closer, and then died from asphyxiation as Yzak thrust gently against him and licked his neck in a long, succulent stroke.
Dearka quit trying to ask Yzak to think about his actions. Resistance was futile. He felt himself surrender into complete submission.
Yzak's head bobbed into view, the sun creating a silvery-gold halo around his delicate features. The smirk was back in full, because Yzak was relishing the absolute control he possessed over his smartass subordinate.
"Consider yourself seduced," he whispered with triumph, leaning so close his lips grazed Dearka's ear.
"Yes, sir," Dearka said, grinning like an idiot and throwing his arms around Yzak's pale waist. Yzak's hand slid down Dearka's tanned muscles and his fingers dipped under the elastic edge of his shorts. Yzak brought his knees forward and tried to lift his torso away from Dearka's to contemplate his friend's drawstrings, but Dearka kept his arms tightly wrapped around the slender boy and continued kissing whatever he could reach with his mouth.
In the next mment, they were both on their knees, pressing their bodies together, their lips locked in another suffocating kiss. Dearka pushed harder, toppling his silver-haired superior to the sand beneath them.
Yzak heard a dull rushing sound, and then his face was underwater.
"Sexy, Elsman," he stated sarcastically when the wave had relinquished him and he had coughed out the bitter sea water. "Sexy."
All of the previous passion had been erased from his features, washed away by the water, and Dearka was left with an Yzak who was smoldering with anger. In a few moments, the commander would probably spontaneously combust, destroying Dearka in the process, revenge for spoiling such an exquisite moment.
"Asshole," Yzak snarled, his eyes narrowing. He pushed Dearka up and then sat up himself, just in time to avoid another wave in the face.
"Sorry," Dearka said meekly as a wave of guilt and fear washed over not just his face, but the rest of him, too. Dearka was utterly unsure of what Yzak was feeling. This was new and most-likely dangerous ground that they were standing on, (although technically, they were sitting) and Dearka could do nothing but wait for Yzak to let him know how bad the situation was.
Dearka simply knew that it was bad.
He had let his commander, who had undoubtedly lost complete control of his senses after near-drowning, seduce him without trying very hard to stop him. He had let his own ready-at-a-moment's-notice desires kick in, and then had all-too-willingly surrendered his body to a superior officer. And then, just when things seemed to be getting good, he had thrust the man's head underwater. And Yzak wasn't simply a commanding officer. He was The Commander, the one who didn't bother hiding his disgust and contempt for people with out-of-control, raging hormones, especially when they involved people in ZAFT with differing rank. And he also had a temper, and a renowned ability to hold grudges. To top it all off, he was Dearka's best friend, which made Dearka the only one he trusted...to not do this sort of underhanded betrayal.
Yes, Dearka Elsman was probably in deep shit.
His purple eyes glanced at Yzak, who was still sitting underneath him. Yzak was looking down, and his face was a violent red. He didn't seem to notice Dearka's furtive glance, so Dearka assumed that he was probably imagining different ways to punish him and send him to a dark and fiery Hell.
"Um, Yzak?" Dearka disliked how his voice trembled with fear, but hoped that Yzak would take pity on him.
"Hmm?" Yzak said as if far away. He looked up, and his face was clear of all anger. The blush was fading to a pink tinge on his face, which looked refreshingly bright and thoughtful.
Dearka was suspicious. He had never seen Yzak with such a look on his face, and if he had been wearing pants, they would have been scared off of him. "What are you thinking about?" he asked hurriedly, wanting to get this all over with as soon as possible.
Yzak looked down again, and his silver bangs swung forward, masking his eyes. "I'm wondering if you seriously crippled the mood, or if I can revive it by untying your shorts."
Blunt and honest, that was Yzak, and Dearka had never appreciated it more than at that moment. He breathed a sigh of intense relief and thanked his sex appeal, because Yzak was not going to hang him, chop him into little pieces, burn the pieces, and then sink them to the bottom of the ocean. He was busy tracing the outlines of Dearka's abs.
"Idiot," Dearka said playfully, pulling the slim commander closer, "everyone knows that you use the kiss of life to revive things." He leaned forward and delivered a powerful kiss to Yzak's lips.
"Oh, right," said Yzak, dazed. "Thanks."
The two pressed together in a frantic rush, and Dearka toppled under Yzak's forceful prodding. As he fell, Yzak twisted around like a cat trying unsuccessfully to land on its feet and they rolled on the beach, wet sand sticking to their backs. Yzak ended up on top, smirking like he had planned the whole thing and was ready to slowly devour the unsuspecting mouse.
Dearka heard a strange rushing noise, and then his face was underwater.
"Idiot," he heard Yzak's voice say pleasantly when the water swirled back to sea.
Dearka spluttered a moment as Yzak stood and took a few steps away. "Let's finish this somewhere were you can't screw it up," Yzak said in a voice that booked no arguments. He glanced to Dearka from the corner of his eye, and Dearka could see the ghost of Yzak's smile. "Now that I've got my revenge."
"Yes, sir," Dearka said, stumbling to his feet, his body feeling like it had just been lit on fire rather than drenched in water. "Lead the way, Yzak."
"Right. You just follow."
Damn, that was embarrassing. Let me know what you guys (or more likely, and ironically, girls) think. Hope you enjoyed. I actually spent some time working on this, but maybe that was because I feel like I shouldn't have been writing this. This was for a contest between myself, anja-chan, and The Angelic Demoness. The fic anja-chan is using for the contest is the first chapter of The Tennis Match. The Angelic Demoness has In The Heat of the Moment. Thanks to SilverSoleAlchmst1 for judging. (Read her stuff too!)
Thanks, and please review!