Note: I'm gonna scare a few peeps with another very very minor and very very weird pairing in this fic. Please don't hate me...and MST this if you want...just be sure to email me a copy, k'?

Chapter 5: Cry out the feeling that was kept to yourself


"HM?" The loud voice of the largest Deva boomed in question, ceasing his movements as his helmeted ears picked up soft, mournful noises coming from the next room.

Karsh's room.

The mixture of a frustrated whine and a passionate moan that came from the lean form under him went unnoticed by the helmeted deva. His mind was too preoccupied with concern for the lavender-haired man next door. Was something wrong with Karsh? What had happened in the time that they had parted company? The tall man tried to move his head closer to the wall, so he could rest his helmet against it to possibly hear better but a pair of long, milky white legs wrapped around his muscled waist, keeping him from leaning anywhere. Looking down, Zoah was met with a narrowed pair of sky blue eyes and a baby-fine face that was scrunched up in a pouty glare. Someone wasn't pleased.

"Is there something wrong, mon amour?" his lover asked, frowning, an added accent tainting the words. Zoah shook his helmeted head quickly, not wanting the feminine blonde to over-react...as he always seemed to do at inappropriate times.

"NOT WITH YOU..." he boomed tenderly, smiling inside his helmet at the blonde, who obviously didn't see the expression. "I'M JUST CONCERNED ABOUT KARSH."

A sculpted eyebrow raised skeptically. "Karsh? Why are you suddenly thinking about Karsh?" the tone in his voice hinted lightly at jealousy for the wrong reason. Zoah panicked at what his lover was assuming and quickly shook his head, his first reaction to the blond's habit of jumping to conclusions.

"NO, NO! NOT LIKE THAT!" he said, then rolled over, pulling out of his smaller lover. His concern about the lavender-haired man, who was one of his best friends, never went past platonic(Karsh wasn't his type anyway) and one thing Zoah did not need at the moment was a pouty, jealous lover on his hands. "I JUST..." he sighed then proceeded to tell all about the encounter in the hallway, how Karsh was in a hurry to 'meet' someone and the soft noises that sounded like sobbing coming from Karsh's room at that moment. The blonde listened intently, nodding every now and then at something in the retelling that seemed to be of particular interest. Finally, he rolled off the bed and went over to pick through the pieces of discarded clothing that had been carelessly tossed aside when Zoah had returned to their room that evening, searching for something. Zoah turned over to watch, somewhat confused.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, PIERRE?" he asked as his lover pulled on the dragoon's fluffy robe, which was several sizes too big his smaller frame.

"Just putting something on" the false Frenchman chimed as he tied the wrap of the robe into a sturdy knot around his waist. "You worry for your friend, oui? If you worry, moi worries too. Moi will go see what is wrong with him!"

Zoah simply stared at the determined man, who looked dwarfed in the huge robe, as if he had lost what little common sense he had already. "KARSH DOESN'T LIKE YOU, PIERRE. HE'S NOT GOING TO JUST SPILL HIS GUTS TO ANYONE WHO'LL LISTEN." This caused Pierre to frown in his normal, pouty sort of way.

"But...I can try, mon amour." he said, suddenly smiling and striking what Zoah assumed was supposed to be a heroic pose, elegantly flipping his curly flaxen hair behind his shoulders. "Unlike fighting, moi is quite skilled in the area of love; which is what ails your friend, oui?" with that, he strolled past Zoah and over to the door, blowing a kiss and winking at the helmeted man before he left.

Zoah stared at the door for a few seconds and sighed, shaking his head. Something about the wording of what Pierre said made him worry slightly, but he pushed it aside knowing that Pierre was extremely faithful to him and that Karsh would more likely beat the garish blond to a pulp then sleep with him...a thought which, unfortunately, birthed new uneasiness in Zoah. 'I HOPE HE COMES BACK TO ME IN ONE PIECE...'


Knock Knock

Karsh practically jumped away from the door when he heard the sound of a fist banging on the other side. Who the hell would come visit him this late at night? The slight hopefulness that it was Gyadarun entered Karsh's mind before the rational side of his brain pushed the thought aside. There was no possible reason that the cyborg would actually want to come near him again. Dejectedly, Karsh got up, wiping his face clean of tears and checking quickly in the mirror to make sure his face wasn't red from crying. The knocks became more persistent and Karsh slowly opened the door.

Both of the lavender-haired deva's eyebrows shot up at the sight that presented itself on the other side of his door.

The fruitiest man Karsh had ever known in his entire life(next to Slash, anyway) was standing right outside his door, smiling pleasantly at him as if there was nothing wrong with him visiting Karsh in the middle of the night. One thing that the deva did notice with some curiosity was that Pierre was clad in a huge robe that he recognized as the birthday present Marcella had given Zoah last year. Implications presented themselves is Karsh's mind, all of them making his stomach somewhat weak.

"Hello." the blonde man said pleasantly, "May moi come in?" In, possibly, some hope of making a better impression on his being there, Pierre flashed a toothy smile that reminded Karsh of a drawing the Termina local artist did advertising the latest thing in hygiene: toothpaste.

"No." Karsh said curtly and threw the door closed, only to find it's path blocked by something, which turned out to be Pierre's foot. Karsh shot the effeminate man a dark glare, silently telling him that if he didn't remove his foot from the door's path, that Karsh would remove his foot from his leg.

Amazingly enough, Pierre managed to ignore it and continue talking. "You are certainly in a very foul mood tonight. What's wrong?"

"Get your foot out of my door." Karsh said in a slow and dangerous voice that would make any Dragoon soldier piss themselves. Pierre could almost swear he could hear the last of Karsh's nerves snapping in half. "I don't care why you're in the Manor; I don't care why you're wearing Zoah's robe and I don't care if you express such an interest in my problems. I wanna be left alone! NOW, GO THE FUCK AWAY!"

Karsh reached out quickly and shoved Pierre away from the doorway with one hand

Even after his outburst, Karsh still had the mind enough to notice the change in Pierre face at the tirade. His pleasant smile vanished and his face took on a less air-headed look. Full pouty lips drew into a thin, pursed line and crystal blue eyes narrowed slightly, displaying anger and annoyance. It was the first time Karsh could say he'd ever seen someone as deluded and senseless as Pierre suddenly look so serious...Karsh humorously noted that it was almost like the blond had finally grown some balls of his own.

'Two years could change a person...' a small voice in the back of Karsh's head stated matter-of-factly and Karsh found himself agreeing with it until he saw a pale fist heading straight for his face, felt it connect with his nose and another connect with his stomach. Catching the deva completely off guard, the blows knocked Karsh back farther then he would have had he been ready for an attack and made him topple into a graceless heap on the floor, allowing Pierre to enter the Deva's room without worrying about any blockades.

Correction...' Karsh mentally told the small voice as he clutched his bleeding nose with one hand and tried to push himself into a sitting position with the other. '...two years can really change a person.'

A shadow passed over Karsh's sitting form. The sulky deva glared up at the false Frenchman, who had his hands on his hips along with a defiant, disapproving and altogether too feminine glare that reminded Karsh very much of the amazonian Orlha from Guldove.

'He's gone from a complete wuss to an effeminate monster...' Karsh thought, not sure whether it was an improvement or not.

Pierre stood near Karsh for a few moments, towering over the Deva with the most menacing air he could muster...which caused the lavender haired man to be mildly surprised for a few seconds, but not much else. Sighing, Pierre's delicate features softened and he stretched a hand down to Karsh, offering to help the deva up. A defiant snort came from the man on the floor as he swatted the blond's hand away and pushed himself up with little effort. When he managed to steady himself, Karsh shot Pierre a dark look that made the other man back up a pace cautiously.

"So...fruity boy..." Karsh smirked at the look on Pierre's face darken significantly at the taunt. "You've gotten in here now whaddaya want?" Karsh moved gracelessly over to the seat at his dresser and sat himself down, facing Pierre with folded arms and a look of forced patience.

"Oui, I came here to ask what's wrong." the blond's statement came as somewhat of a surprise to Karsh. How did the fruit know something was wrong?

Karsh narrowed his eyes defensively, leaning back in his seat. "What makes you think something is wrong? Other then the two nice bruises I can thank you for, I'm fine." The deva rubbed his nose, which was slightly red, to emphasize his point.

"Karsh..." Pierre sighed in a coaxing, tired voice. He lifted a dainty hand and rubbed his temples. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be back in Zoah's room...getting comfy in Zoah's bed...with Zoah, but he was in the room next door, determined to help Karsh to ease his helmeted lover's mind somewhat. This guy was giving him a serious headache. "I know what happened earli-..."

Pierre stopped dead when Karsh jerked his head up, looking directly at Pierre. The color had practically disappeared from Karsh's handsome, tanned face. Golden eyes widened in shock and confusion as an initial response but, contrary to the anger Pierre expected, shock melted into what looked like sorrow. Biting back the old urge to point it out in a foppish fashion, Pierre silently watched the Deva; noting that Karsh's posture had also taken a quick turn; going from relaxed to stiff in mere seconds.

"How would you know what happened earlier?" Karsh's voice sounded pained and angry, like he wanted to deck the blonde man right in the nose for what he said. Pierre was puzzled his reaction. Zoah had told him everything up to the point when Karsh had left the company of the other two devas and, according to Zoah, the lavender-haired deva had been fine. Karsh's reaction now seemed to scream something was terribly wrong and that it had happened in the time between. He now saw Zoah's reason for concern.

"Um...Zoah told me." he answered honestly. Karsh's face turned from puzzled to confused.

"How would Zoah..." he stopped himself, realization dawning on his tanned features. Letting out an exasperated sigh, the deva slumped back into his chair, his face relaxing. "Never mind...Zoah only knows so much."

Pierre raised a curious eyebrow. Had Zoah left something out? "What do you mean?"

His response upset Karsh even more as the other man mustered a tired glare before pushing himself out of his chair and slowly made his way to the door, dragging his feet.

"Where are you going?" Pierre asked when Karsh reached the door.

"Out..." came a tired reply as Karsh turned the knob and dragged himself out into the hallway. About halfway down, he heard the distinct sound of bare feet treading behind him. Stopping, he turned his head to see the still robe-clad Pierre walking a few paces behind him. "Why the hell are you following me?"

"I promised to help, mon ami!" the chirpy voice kneaded at Karsh's nerves. He did not need this now.

"IN THAT?" Karsh yelled, exasperated, and pointed to the large robe that was slowly sliding off Pierre's shoulders of its own accord. The false Frenchman blushed and pulled the robe back up and, turning around quickly, undid the tie of the robe and rewrapped it around himself. Karsh buried his face in his hands, silently asking any gods who were listening what he'd done to deserve this.

Neithernoticed the shadows that leaked under the partially closed door cast from the hallway light.

TBC