Title: Flawed Perfection
Theme: #5- Scars
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance/Drama
Word Count: 440
Characters/Pairings: Dearka x Yzak.
Summary: Each scar can tell a story.
He traced them with his fingertips; each one telling him a story, telling him of pain and hardship that the tan-skinned man had endured.
Slowly, almost with a sense of reverence, he sought out each and every one that he'd identified.
A faint scar on his upper arm, a bullet that had grazed and missed when he'd stolen the Buster g-unit.
On the left side of his forehead, two scars. One deserved- from an angry girl when he'd said the wrong thing. One undeserved- from the battle at Jachin Due when his cockpit had been severely damaged.
His chest has several small scars, Dearka can't remember when or where he got them, and neither can Yzak. But there they are, nonetheless.
Then, there are the scars with good memories.
The one on his right leg from when he was a child; a misstep while playing catch with his father leaving its mark for all time.
The one small scar on his right brow, hidden by his tousled golden-hair, left by a stray piece of metal from his first mobile suit battle.
The one on the tip of his left pointer finger; a deep paper cut from his assignment papers to the Klueze team. Yzak's outrage at being ranked second, below Athrun, causing just enough commotion to leave Dearka scrambling to separate them.
He still had that paper, tucked away for safe keeping- the top stained with a drop of his blood.
The one on his back, right above his shoulder blade, from when Yzak had shoved him away after their first unexpected kiss.
But not to be left alone, that scar was joined by a set of five. The imprints of the other man's fingernails when they'd clawed into his shoulder. Not in anger, but in the heat of passion.
Each scar told a story and Yzak found each and every one of them much more fascinating than the infamous scar that adorned his face.
"That's just because you want an excuse to look at my body," Dearka would tease him.
"It's just because I enjoy seeing how much more you'd gotten your ass kicked than me," Yzak would retort lamely.
But in quiet moments, in the silence and darkness that allowed them to forget the war going on- there was no need for taunting and hiding behind excuses.
In those moments, Yzak simply loved those scars because of who they were on. And in turn, Dearka found himself giving countless kisses to the scars that Yzak had sustained.
They each had their flaws, their scars- good and bad.
And they loved each other all the more because of it.