Yzak laid back on the springy grass and locked both hands behind his head. The sun scorched his lids, and he closed his eyes. He'd never been one for lounging in the sunlight, but at the moment the bright, burning sensation on his skin felt comforting. He was feeling uncharacteristically calm and collected, and damned be the person unfortunate enough to spoil his cool musings.
He'd given up on Frisbee. The game was childish and melodramatic. The Duel pilot slit one blue eye open to observe the status of the teams. Miriallia had sided with Athrun and Kira, while Dearka had chosen Lacus and Cagalli as his cohorts. It had been the blonde's idea to have the significant other's face each other, for "more amusement," as he had so eloquently put it. Yzak snorted. Then Cagalli had refused to side with her brother, and the teams had ended up as-is. It really was a nuisance of a sport.
The pale youth watched as Dearka snatched the colored disc from under Miriallia's nose, then lifted her by the waist and twirled her about in a taunting victory dance. Yzak smiled.
He imagined the sight of him grinning in such a situation would worry anyone under normal circumstances. But for once it didn't affect him. He'd had time to think while he reclined under the beams of sunlight, listening to the Princess of Orb scream over who'd taken the last point. His problems seemed infantile at best. The solution that had come to him had stricken him as rather simple.
He knew now that he still cared for Dearka. The blonde, on the other hand, was a jumble of mixed feelings. Any effort on Yzak's part to save his relationship with the Natural had gone to waste. The Buster pilot himself had spoiled its purity, for every time a destructive move had been made, he had been the cause of it. If Dearka was going to put his girlfriend on the line for his own foolish reasons, so be it. Why should Yzak stick out his neck to protect something that was beyond his control? The pale youth had been rotting his insides worrying about it.
He'd finally concluded that the only thing to do was to let Dearka's sentiments run their course. The blonde would reach a conclusion of his own. He would let the tanned Coordinator do so. And he wouldn't deny himself his own feelings either. He'd react to Dearka from now on as he felt fit. After all, why hold back?
Yzak's grin grew wider, and he felt his possessiveness take root and cling like a parasite.
"And what are you smiling about?" It was Dearka.
"Why the hell do you want to know?" No use letting the blonde figure out his new strategy just yet.
Dearka collapsed onto the grass beside him, yelling something to the others as they ran off to get drinks. His white T-shirt was clinging damply to his muscled torso, while stray beads of sweat ran smoothly down his brow. His breathing was slightly ragged, and the Duel pilot moved aside as the blonde flopped over on his back to mimic his earlier position.
The pale youth maintained his outer cool even as the opposite Coordinator settled down. Dearka looked attractive in his worn out state of exertion, and the silver-haired male felt pleasantly wicked in acknowledging it.
"Why didn't you go with them?" Yzak scoffed, narrowing his eyes to get a good view of the group that was rapidly fading into the distance.
"I didn't feel like it," came the casual reply, "And besides, you looked bored off you ass."
Yzak didn't even try to keep the sarcasm from his voice. "How kind of you to keep me company."
His best friend snorted. "What's with the sudden hostility?"
The silver-head was losing his patience. "Look at what's gone on between us in the past two days, Dearka, and then ask me that stupid question." His blood boiled.
The tanned male seemed to consider. "I guess you're right." He frowned.
"You guess? Oh, that's just brilliant."
"Give me a break, Yzak."
"I don't see why I should do anything of the sort."
Dearka shifted until he was propped up on one elbow. Then he looked the Duel pilot in the eye. "Do you need me to explain what's been going on in my head?"
Yzak's responding laugh was bitter and insulting. "I'll have you know, Elsman, that I don't need you to explain a thing. You're careless and completely obvious. I know what's going on in your head, and the answer is nothing. If you were thinking at all, you wouldn't have confused yourself so disgustingly badly."
It was Dearka's turn to laugh. The laugh was long and deep, and when the offensive blonde had finished wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, he faced Yzak with a condescending lift of a brow.
"I love it how you know me so well," he said, his violet eyes expressing a slight sense of defeat behind their protective twinkle.
Yzak hid a blush and shifted again onto his back. He knew this was the part where he often lost his control. He would not submit so easily this time.
"You're not the only one who's been doing some thinking," Dearka went on. "You've accepted things as they are and have decided to do as you see fit. Well, I've done the same, and I'm doing things how I see fit."
Yzak sprang into a sitting position, livid. Somehow, despite all his scheming, the blonde had read him like a book. He felt like a sheet of stained glass, attempting to cloud himself with deceiving color, only to realize that he was still transparent enough to look through.
"Fuck you, Elsman," he spat vehemently at the uncaring boy on the ground, "You don't know the first thing I've been thinking."
"Wrong," Dearka shot just as heatedly. The harshness surprised Yzak. "If anything I know I'm right, because of the way you protested just now. It's so like you." The last sentence was bitter.
Yzak wondered for a moment if he'd been hurting Dearka as much as the blonde had been hurting him. Then he brushed the notion aside, a quick attempt at salvaging his own emotions. If he thought too hard now, it'd only come back to haunt him.
"You're not the only one allowed to come to conclusions, Yzak," Dearka said. "We're on the same page. There are circumstances that neither of us can change, and we just have to accept it. It can't be helped."
Funny. That's what Yzak himself had decided mere moments ago. But the decision wasn't supposed to work both ways. It was supposed to allow him to accept his feelings for Dearka and live without guilt, not open a space to allow the blonde to do the same. If Dearka felt the same about accepting circumstances and acting as he pleased despite them, that meant nothing would move forward. Dearka would still cling to the Natural girl. He'd still use Yzak whenever he felt inclined to do so. Suddenly the pale youth wanted to hit him.
Then the Buster pilot spoke and jolted the silver-haired male into the present. "Both of you," he mumbled, "Both of you make everything so complicated."
Yzak remained still, waiting. His urge to murder something was partially quelled.
"I want you both," Dearka stated, "But more than that, I want you to get along with each other."
"You want us both," Yzak repeated flatly. His companion didn't answer. "I thought so."
He had been right. He had always been right, somewhere deep in the pit of his stomach. The silver-haired Duel pilot floundered.
"So that's it," he began, avoiding the other male's questioning violet gaze, "You honestly care about us both. And you're going to indulge yourself and go about it as you damn please, whether or not it hurts her or me, because you feel there's nothing else to be done?" He received no reply. Then he snapped. "You bastard!"
Dearka brought a hand to his aching cheek, with eyes that flew open in surprise. Yzak watched in satisfaction as the blonde rolled his tongue around the inside of his mouth, checking for broken teeth.
"Did you have to punch me?" the Buster pilot asked, calm despite the fact that he'd just been hit.
Yzak made an indifferent noise in the back of his throat. "You deserved every bit of that just now." He felt no sympathy.
"But you're the same as I am."
The Duel pilot growled. "Don't you dare compare the two of us, you worthless idiot."
Dearka did not appear to want to give up. "You've stopped caring about whether or not I have Miriallia, I know you have." Yzak was careful not to move, lest he betray himself. "So why isn't it okay for me to stop caring as well? Do you know how hard it is, Yzak, to plague myself with worries of who I should choose? In an ideal world, I would only care for one of you. But we know from the war that this is no perfect place. I can't deny what's fact. You're both important to me. So why can't I give myself the luxury of accepting that and acting in accordance?"
"It's different, you fool!" Yzak heaved; the explosion was unexpected even to him. "I can't take it! I can't stand seeing you bounce back and forth. I don't care anymore if you deceive the stupid Natural who claims she loves you, but you should." He was shaking with wrath.
"So you think I should make a choice."
"Of course!"
"Regardless of whom I choose?"
His muscles tightened. He didn't answer. He couldn't.
"You'd like it to be you, is that it?" There was something in his eyes that Yzak couldn't decipher. It appeared to be a mix of baffled amusement, or maybe it was tentative relief beneath the mask.
He didn't care. He let himself go numb with the sense of hopelessness he'd just been struck with. Without warning, Yzak narrowed his eyes of ice and hardened his disposition. He'd already revealed too much, and he knew he couldn't afford any more mistakes. He'd lost again in the twisted competition that was tearing him apart. Dearka always won.
"Stop toying with me," he hollered, drawing the attention of a group of girls that strode by on the sidewalk. They fixed him with nervous stares and hurried on their way. "Apparently it doesn't matter what I feel for you, as long as you can play your game. Well, I won't lose to you, Elsman!" He hauled the other male forward by the scruff of his T-shirt and stole his lips in a kiss he knew was far too rough.
The blonde was so stunned that he froze stiff. Yzak didn't bother to take his best friend's inaction into account. He wanted to dominate. He'd get his way, damn it all to hell. With his grip still tight on Dearka's damp clothing, he forced the other male's lips apart and inserted his tongue, exploring the warm cavern with little care for what was going on around him.
The tanned male trembled and could avoid the temptation no longer. With one swift motion, the blonde swept up the slight body above him and held him close. Yzak spread his palms flat against his adversary's chest and pushed him down to a lying position. And still he did not stop. He ravished the delicious body beneath him until he was sure his partner's lips were swollen and bruised, marked permanently by his passion and lust.
They'd been at it for nearly a full minute without stop, Yzak successfully maintaining control over the weakening male below him, when Dearka ceased responding. Without a word, he pushed the silver-haired pilot gently from him. His violet eyes were fixed on something over Yzak's left shoulder.
Yzak glanced behind him, royally annoyed by the interruption, only to notice the silhouettes of five looming figures in the blinding glare of the sun. When he focused his distracted vision, he realized the others had come back.