Athrun released the knob and let the door swing shut, while Yzak watched, allowing some of the tension to run out of his shoulders. He was about to get up and pace the room, but he started as a foot jammed itself between the door and the frame to prevent the door from clicking shut.

Yzak stared at the foot with a frown. "Dearka," he growled as a messy blonde head poked itself around the corner and grinned slyly.

"Just saw Zala walk out of here like a kid who snagged a cookie from the top shelf," he said. "I see you've been busy."

"Shut up," Yzak muttered, then remembered he was supposed to be livid. "Damn you, Dearka."

The tanned youth raised a questioning eyebrow in mock surprise. "Well, my oh my. I don't think I deserved that." He paused to cherish the look on the silver haired boy's face before continuing. "I wonder how he even got in here?"

"You…" Yzak fumed, lacking the motivation to say anything else.

Dearka usually enjoyed pushing the hot-tempered boy's buttons, but this time he stopped and collapsed onto the sofa where Athrun had sat only moments before.

"So now will you tell me what happened?" Dearka tensed in annoyance as he was met by silence. "You might as well spit it out, Yzak. I've already got a pretty good idea of what went on between the two of you."

Yzak's face was ashen. "What do you know?" he shot as his voice wavered, "You've been gone. Don't make idiotic assumptions."

Dearka sighed. "At least it wasn't so bad that you can't yell at me about it." He took a casual sip of the lemonade he'd taken with him from the mess hall.

"I kissed him, Dearka."

Lemonade flew everywhere as the blonde boy went into a fit of choking. Yzak couldn't tell whether he was laughing or just responding in shock, but it didn't matter because the moment the Buster's pilot had the use of his lungs back at normal status, he looked at him incredulously and spoke.

"Excuse me, Yzak? I thought I heard you say you…"

"Don't make me repeat myself, Elsman. You know what I said."

Dearka's lips went taught in a look of nervous agitation. "You have got to be kidding me, Yzak."

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Yzak hollered, pacing the room back and forth. "Don't make me hurt you."

"Why?"

"Because if you can't keep your stupid comments to yourself, I'm going to make you pay."

"No, idiot – Why did you kiss Athrun?"

Yzak flinched at the words. "I…don't know. He annoys me. I hate him. He's like an insect I want to crush beneath the heel of my foot, and then watch wriggle until he dies. Damn that stuck up little…"

But when Yzak glanced up, preparing to hear his friend make another smart remark, instead he was met by the shining eyes of the other as a look of dawning comprehension crossed his face.

"You like him," Dearka stated plainly in a nonchalant monotone.

Dearka did not think it was possible for Yzak to get any paler, but he watched in astonishment as his friend sank weakly into a chair and pursed his lips.

"Christ, Yzak…You don't look good. What the hell's the matter with you?" There was no response. "Geezus, why don't you just tell him?"

Yzak had buried his face in his hands, but his head snapped up the moment the absurd suggestion reached his ears. "You really are a worthless fool, Dearka."

"Fine. Have it your way, Yzak. But I think you should. The two of you could have a lot more fun that way," he threw the downtrodden boy a scandalous wink.

"Get out," Yzak protested in disgust.

"It's my room too, lover boy."

"Get out."

Dearka rolled his eyes and silently complied. Yzak breathed a sigh of relief, but the relief did not last long. Maybe he needed another shower.