Barracks Room
Yzak stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Dearka from the centre of the room. Dearka had immediately retreated to his bed on entering, and sat there watching him in silence.
Yzak stepped closer to the bed. "Well? It was your idea to have this talk. Let's hear from you!"
"Yzak, I don't know of any subtle way to say this, so I'll just come straight out with it. This morning when I -"
"When you molested me while I was sleeping?" Yzak sarcastically interrupted.
Dearka flushed. "Hell, Yzak. Just give me a chance, will you? This is bloody hard for me to say!"
Yzak's lips pressed together in anger but he made a 'go ahead' gesture with his hand, as if he didn't trust himself to speak at that moment.
"When I did…what I did, I wasn't really awake. But I don't think I was fully asleep, either. What I'm trying to say is that…it wasn't some dream girl I was feeling up. It was you." Dearka suddenly felt sick and buried his face in his hands.
There was a silence that seemed to go on forever, and then he felt Yzak standing over his bowed head. His voice was expressionless: "What are you saying Dearka?"
Dearka's throat felt constricted, like he might choke on tears that he didn't dare shed, but he forced the words out anyway. It was too late now for anything other than honesty. His friendship with Yzak might well be killed by this, whatever he said or did now. "You were lying beside me. I could feel your warmth….and I was hard and …needy. You must know what that's like sometimes. I was…the impulse….just came over me…"
"And I just happened to be handy?" The words sounded bitter but they were spoken in a flat calm voice.
"No! Not like that. I was half dreaming, half awake. It was like all my inhibitions had gone…I think I was doing something that subconsciously I've been wanting to do for a while. My mind just found a way to slide it past my mental filters by making it seem unreal."
"Dearka, look at me."
It took all his nerve to raise his head and look Yzak in the face.
"How long have you felt like this?"
Dearka shook his head. "I – don't know. Maybe since we fell here."
Yzak's eyebrows rose. "Remember our little talk in the night about combat stress? Do you think the timing is a coincidence?"
"Hell, Yzak. I don't think I know anything anymore. But I have a question to ask you." Dearka swallowed hard, there seemed to be an enormous lump in his throat, suddenly. "Am I the only one feeling this way?"
Yzak looked as though he had been slapped. His eyes dark with unreadable emotion, he stared down into Dearka's upturned face. "I should punch you in the face again for saying that."
Dearka raised his chin. "I'm ready for it. Go ahead."
No blow landed. Instead Yzak's hand cupped and tilted the chin gently, so he could look at the bruise now staining Dearka's warm brown skin. "I think I may have hit you enough for one day," he said tiredly. "You're right. You aren't the only one."
Dearka blushed scarlet. Yzak laughed slightly bitterly and dropped his hand. He walked away across the room, putting distance between them. He stood looking out the windows at the bleak scene of concrete runways far below. "I think it would be best if one of us got different accommodation."
Dearka launched himself off the bed. "Hell, Yzak. What are you saying? Do you want to split us up after all these years because we --" He failed to complete the sentence.
Yzak turned and growled at him. "Because we suddenly want to do each other? After ten years of friendship, don't you think that it's a bit strange that this should happen now? This isn't real. It's some sort of stress condition. Or maybe it's something in the air of this fucking planet!"
Dearka stood his ground. "OK, so what if it is? Does it make a difference to who we are? Do you want to throw away what we've got for something that may be simply some passing phase? Hell, Yzak. We're teenagers! We're meant to be going through phases. Maybe this would still have happened to us back in the PLANTs, even if there had been no war to turn us into combat pilots and drag us here! Maybe we should just go with it!"
Yzak looked shocked to his very core; his mouth actually dropped open for a moment. If Dearka had not been in such a serious mood he would have laughed; it was a sight to treasure in his mind forever. But he was too busy desperately fighting for the survival of the most important relationship in his life to pay much attention. He knew that if reasoned argument didn't win, his next move would be begging, and he didn't think that showing that much weakness to Yzak would gain him many points.
"Am I hearing Dearka Elsman say this? The Dearka Elsman who has been girl-mad since his balls dropped four years ago, and who would screw anything in a skirt if it stood still long enough?"
Dearka flushed. "There's no need to put it so crudely, Yzak. I like to think I'm a bit more discriminating than that."
"And just what are you proposing for us? A little recreational sex to keep the stress at bay?"
"Why not? Hell, it's not as if we can get each other pregnant, is it?"
Yzak stared for a moment and then doubled over with laughter. Dearka, who had simply said the first thing that came into his head, not really meaning to make a joke of it, gave a sickly grin. But as Yzak's whoops grew more choking and he doubled over, Dearka began to have some concern that this was more hysteria than real laughter. He walked over and put steadying hands on Yzak's shoulders. Yzak straightened and gradually regained control. His face was flushed and eyes wet, though it was hard to say with what kind of tears.
They looked at each other for a long moment of silence. Then, daringly, Dearka pulled him into a light embrace and gave him a gentle kiss on the lips.
Yzak didn't pull away, but he didn't respond, either. He seemed introspective, even sad. Dearka would have given a great deal to know what thoughts were going through the silver head at that moment.
Dearka stood with his arms still loosely round the other boy. "Yzak?"
"ZAFT military regulations don't specify against homosexual relations as such. But you may recall that they do forbid sexual relationships between personnel serving in the same unit. It is considered bad for military discipline."
Dearka winced in his mind at Yzak's application of the word 'homosexual' to themselves. He was careful to not let that show on his face, as he said: "I cannot believe this! Here I am trying to seduce you, and you just quoted ZAFT military regulations at me! You don't have an ounce of romance in your soul, do you Joule! I say 'screw the military regulations.' I bet a lot of people have relationships, no matter what the rules say."
Yzak slowly smiled; his blue eyes were no longer cold and thoughtful, but glittering with some intense emotion. "OK….Screw the regulations!" And he stepped closer into Dearka's embrace.
Their arms closed hungrily round each other and Dearka's mouth claimed Yzak's in a kiss that was desperate for reassurance that this was real. Somehow Dearka had managed to pull it off. He felt almost giddy with relief. Just let me be with you Yzak. Don't throw me away. I'd get lost out there…. And then coherent thought shut down as the taste and feel of Yzak filled his senses.
For Yzak, the world seemed to fall away, leaving just Dearka and the sensations of his body. He felt Dearka's hand slide to the crotch of his uniform, and his fingers flex there. Yzak's breath caught, at the pulse of pleasure from his groin. He moaned into Dearka's mouth. Their tongues were probing and working against each other in a frenzied dance.
His own hand slid between Dearka's legs. He rubbed his palm against the bulging hardness there. Dearka pulled free from their kiss to pant in some air, his hands like vices at Yzak's waist. "Do…do.. that again…please." Yzak obliged. "Uhhhh…"
Suddenly Dearka clamped his hand against Yzak's, to still the movement. His face, hot and sweaty, buried itself in the crook of Yzak's shoulder. "Wait…wait…just a moment. I'm so near the edge…if you keep doing that I just won't last." They stood entwined for several long moments. Then Dearka suddenly swooped and picked Yzak up. A few strides brought them to the bed. Dearka gently deposited Yzak and followed him down. Sprawled across him, he held Yzak's wrists on either side of the pillow. He gazed down into startled blue eyes. "Those hands of yours are kind of dangerous, Joule." Slipping his thigh between Yzak's legs he pressed and rubbed against his crotch. He smiled in satisfaction at Yzak's shuddering response.
Suddenly they were both ravenous for each other. The hands of each were everywhere, stripping away clothing, desperate for skin to skin contact. There were no more words, just the feel and scent of each other: soft skin damp with sweat, lithe muscles, and bodies straining against each other.
Yzak writhed, gasping, on the brink, as Dearka stroked and stroked where his wet mouth had made a slick surface for the glide of his hand….Suddenly the spike of pleasure drove up through Yzak, from groin into brain, and he felt himself spill helplessly over Dearka's hand, all thought dissolving in bliss.
Perhaps he actually blacked out for a second. Returning sight took in details of Dearka's body beside him, which screamed of unreleased tension. Clenched muscles in Dearka's belly gleamed beneath the sweat, and the hand that had given such ecstasy was balled into a fist. Yzak leaned forward. "I'm kind of new at this. Show me what you like…"
"Like I just did you…" Dearka husked. And as Yzak complied, Dearka's hoarse moans filled the room.
Dearka lay sleeping. He'd simply folded up after their love-making. When Yzak protested to the drowsy boy about his lack of stamina, he'd just smiled sweetly and said: "Hell, Yzak. Considering the morning you put me through, it's a wonder I could function at all. Give a guy a chance…." And then his eyes had closed.
Yzak lay on his side, head propped on one hand, gazing pensively at Dearka. I'm going to get hurt over this, I know it. Some day, you're going to come out of this daze you're in, and go off after some bloody little skirt again. But you're just too much of a temptation to me. I'll take what I can get. I love you, you bastard.
He must have dozed himself then. For the next thing he knew, he was being roused by the sound of the com-unit. Naked, he slipped out of bed, and keyed off the internal camera that would have sent his image, before he hit the response button. If it was a priority call requiring formal face-and-number identification, he would just have to dress and call Communications back. Fortunately, it proved to be a simple internal message from an assistant of the Transport Commander; an efficient girl soldier with whom he'd dealt before.
"Message to Yzak Joule, Le Creuset Team. Preliminary notification: the next convoy for Banadiya will be leaving in 72 hours. You will report to Transport Command for further instructions at 0900 tomorrow. That is all."
He turned, to see that Dearka had also awoken and was sitting up in bed, watching him. Yzak gave a grim smile: "Honeymoon is over!"