"You're making me feel restless just watching you," Soular announced, still patiently resting his back against the smooth vegetation forming the walls of Northa's room. His crossed arms had started out motionless, but one hand eventually started tapping against the opposite arm.
Westar, pacing vigorously across the embellished rug in the center, glared at him before tossing up his hands. "But there's no space in here, and I can't relax somewhere she might pop up at any second!"
"She did that back at the mansion, too."
"That was different!"
No, Soular replied silently, it wasn't. "Well, she is out, and if you're tired of those weights of yours you can try something I brought here to read."
Stopping, Westar sighed, hung his head, and crouched down. "I want to be done with this~ I could be spending this time going somewhere interesting or perfecting my doughnut making technique, but no! Why doesn't she even have a kitchen?!"
Soular tilted his head. "Doughnut making technique?"
Westar perked up immediately. "That's right! Kaoru from the park café taught me some of his secrets. I barely had the time to start before our place got destroyed. I'm going to be a master when we have somewhere to make them again; you'll see."
Faced with that optimistic grin, Soular could only knit his brow and tap faster.
"What?" Westar asked.
"You do know what we're here for, don't you? What we've been doing all this time?"
Straightening up to his full formidable height, Westar frowned. "Are you trying to say something about me?"
"I'm trying to say I think your priorities are getting out of order. Do you believe that knowledge will be of any use to Labyrinth? To Lord Moebius?" The words sounded surprisingly stony to even the one saying them.
"I can do more than one thing at once even if you can't!" came Westar's obvious deflection.
"That's not the point." Soular turned his head, his impersonal gaze moving to the broad green leaves of one of Northa's plants. "Northa has this fascination of her own, but it's all to move Lord Moebius' plan forward. You want to do those things because you enjoy them. It wasn't part of our design to develop a desire like that, and you need to wake up from it."
Westar didn't answer at first; while refusing to look at him head on, Soular could see him clench and unclench his fists. There was a thread of betrayal wound through his tone when he spoke again. "You don't have the right to criticize me about that. It's not like you're as cold as you used to be!"
"I'm the same as ever."
"You are not! You barely acknowledged I existed when we first got our assignment. Any time I tried to put our heads together, you rejected it. But sometime after we lost Eas, you started acting like we were a team."
"That doesn't mean anything. I realized it would be more efficient to work together, like they did."
"Did you have to Switch Over with me instead of by yourself?"
"..."
"Did we have to start coming out together? Did you have to start letting me stand so close to you?!"
Soular clenched his jaw. "What I find necessary for our success has nothing to do with this."
"It does! We were never supposed to have friends either, but that didn't stop you from acting like one!"
"I never…" Soular faltered. "I never thought of you as a friend. Only fools try to find happiness in others," he added, lacking the bite he tried to add to it. He couldn't believe a few words managed to unnerve him. Had he really slipped that much?
Thoroughly unsatisfied, Westar strode toward him and slammed his palms on the stalks on each side of Soular's head. It snapped his eyes back to the other's face for the first time since the start of their argument. The intense gaze they met was paralyzing, only allowing his own arms to unlock and drop toward the tiled floor.
He remembered that look: it was as serious as Westar had ever been. When they were after Infinity he'd been impressed by it, but being the target made him feel like it could see right through him.
"You're finally looking at me," Westar said. Soular was painfully cognizant of simply swallowing in response. "Now be honest. You think about more than what's expected of us sometimes, too."
Soular's chest throbbed with every heavy heartbeat. It became harder to think the longer his eyes were locked on that determined sky blue. The room seemed even smaller now, like it barely extended beyond those powerful arms. Westar didn't appear affected at all until his eyes narrowed, and even then it wasn't clear why.
Westar leaned a few centimeters closer. The shared air between them warmed, and his volume lowered. "You don't get to judge me if you're the same way."
His breathing shallow, Soular wracked his brain for the right response. Any response. A lie, or the truth — either would work. He couldn't find the words there or on the face too close to him, no matter where he looked. "Westar—"
Like saying his name was the same as pulling a trigger, Westar's eyes dropped to Soular's mouth and he shot forward, head tilting at the last instant. In a split second's anticipation Soular managed to close his eyes, feeling Westar crash his lips into his own. With his sight cut out he had a heightened awareness of being forcefully pressed against the stalk he had his back to, but that was the least of his worries in taking his breath away.
When their mouths parted the first time, Soular anchored him by tightly gripping the pale cyan hair at the back of his neck. Westar's hands moved to the thin fabric around Soular's waist. He held their bodies so firmly together it was as if they could become one person able to lay their doubts to rest, and Soular made a sound that was swiftly covered up by another kiss. His heart tightened when they inhaled at the same time so close together, barely taking in any air at each opportunity.
It was overwhelming. An embrace so fierce he could break wasn't comfortable, but he was too desperate to continue for any objections. He knew once he did there was no going back to this for either or them, and he wasn't ready to let go of the gratification just yet. Neither of them had any experience in it, so it was awkward and strange and not always pleasant. It was still something, and he wasn't sure how long he'd wanted it.
Eventually, his breath ran too short. "Westar," he rasped again against the other's lips, who recoiled as expected. His hand instantly felt lonely as it untangled from Westar's hair and passed over his golden earrings on its way back to him.
"I'm not like Eas," Westar began, chest rising and falling as noticeably as Soular's own. He hadn't completely stepped away, but he'd drawn back from physical contact and dodged meeting his eyes. "My life belongs to Lord Moebius. Nothing matters more than accomplishing his goal."
"Spoken like a true denizen of Labyrinth." Feeling lightheaded, Soular hadn't lifted any part of himself from where it had been roughly shoved back against the wall, but his voice had returned to normal. The warmth drained from him with each impassive word. "I apologize for questioning you."
Westar's forehead creased and he closed his eyes. "That's better." They opened again long enough to shoot a straightforward glare at Soular before he turned his back. "Everything for Lord Moebius."
"...Everything for Lord Moebius."