Deep Emotion [ dearka x yzak ]

Secret Santa
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For Wendy.

It's the first week back, a week where you are supposed to relax and train and catch up with friends because the next time you see them it might be at a funeral. You stay behind at headquarters, working late because you're not sure that there is any thing besides for you to do.

It's nearing midnight by the time you stagger from the building, keys cold in your hand, the only thing on your mind a warm bed and a cup of coffee. It's raining when you step outside, and you raise your jacket to cover your head, walking swiftly to your car.

You see him then, Yzak - who you hadn't seen since you'd both stepped from the ship - standing in the rain with a pout on his lips.

You rush over, worried and start barking questions at him, asking him what he's doing just standing there.

Yzak hisses, clenching his teeth and very pointedly doesn't shiver. "It's just rain, I needed some air"

You roll your eyes and shove him, grumbling about stupid friends and stupid ideas. Yzak growls something back but you're not listening, instead you move, grab his chin and force him to hold still. You push the wet silver strands from his face almost roughly and Yzak glares at you, eyes not quite ice enough to scare you off.

He doesn't say anything else as you wrap your jacket around his shoulders and push him towards your car, just rips open the car door and stares at the seat like he doesn't know what to do with it.

You can't help but roll your eyes again, sliding easily into the car seat beside him.

He waits for a moment, wrapping his own arms around himself, shivering lightly and glaring at nothing in particular.

The heater in the car works well enough, and you adjust the settings while Yzak drips all over your leather car seat. The rain is still tapping against the windows and you still don't know why Yzak was standing out there in the first place.

You rub your hands together and decide you won't ask.

His hair is still sticking to his skin, against his face, his lips are blue and cheeks red flushed from the cold. His uniform doesn't look comfortable, all awkward angels and material sticking and rubbing in the wrong way.

You scoff and lean over, fingers reaching for the buttons and you've shed him of the jacket before you notice him staring at you.

"What?" You ask and go throw his jacket on the ground shifting him around in his seat and laughing when his head hits the window. You're unlacing and removing his shoes when he retaliates, hitting you over the back of the head and cursing as he attempts to right himself in his seat.

You roll your eyes and hit him back "You can't sit there in those clothes"

Yzak turns his head but slips against the leather and falls backwards, knocking you back with a cry.

You hit the window and wince, Yzak landing against you next and you laugh, laugh at his face, at his wet clothes, at his attempts to still look as majestic and in control as he normally does.

You pointedly pretend you didn't ever think of him as ‘majestic' but by then Yzak is still looking up at you with an odd expression.

"Dearka," He begins in an even stranger voice, all quiet and unsure. Nothing before had made you uncomfortable but this sure does, because Yzak doesn't do quiet and unsure. "do you think…"

You stop him right then, because everything has gotten really awkward, but it shouldn't ever be because this is Yzak and you are Dearka and you don't do awkward either.

You open yourself to say something, to laugh maybe, poke him in the side and make him frustrated, but he closes the space between you, takes your face in his hands and presses his cold lips against yours.

It's not soft, more of a mashing of lips in haste, but you're too surprised to say anything. He doesn't pull away, just keeps his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth against yours and you realize not for the first time, that fuck you both really are still just kids.

You, however, know how to kiss better than he does. You tilt his head, part your lips and pull him up against you so you make a better fit. He makes a noise and you're too distracted to care what kind, and he follows your lead.

His hands grip the collar of your jacket, his fingers too cold when they brush your skin by mistake, and sending shivers through your body. You take one hand away from his hair where it has tangled itself and cover both of his.

He moves again, so the length of his body is pressed against yours, and you move your hands, your right tangling in his hair further, liking the way it brings his mouth closer, gives you a chance to slide your tongue between his lips, likes the way that warms you up horribly fast even though you weren't the one standing in the rain.

You wonder how warm Yzak must be, and you find your answer as your other hand slides down his back, over the light uniform shirt to where it meets his pants, you bring it up, over the skin of his back and it's hot to the touch. You want to touch more, want to find more of that heat.

You want to make Yzak burn.

Yzak makes another noise and it's this noise that brings you crashing back to the reality, the one where you're in the front seat of your car, late at night with your best friend sprawled across your lap. His erection is digging into your hip, his lips are no longer blue but bruised and he's not looking anywhere near as shocked as you feel.

He looks smug, as though he's about to launch into his generic Jule family winners speech and you stare at him, because most of the time that's all you can really do.

You suppose something has changed, some rather large part of your relationship because you really wouldn't mind kissing him again. Or any of the other rather colourful images that have suddenly woven their way into your head. But something is irritating you, it's probably the fact that Yzak is again at the head of this new venture.

You think about this, watching Yzak shake his hair and comb his fingers through, adjusting his pants and looking at you pointedly.

Then again, you do have Master Jule soaking wet and underdressed in your car and that has to equal something good. Power is yours.

You grin mysteriously and start the car, pulling out of the parking space and speeding out of the gate, going too fast for even Yzak, seasoned pilot and thrill seeker.

He shouts at you, smacks your arm like a woman but you ignore him.

Your apartment is just too far away after all.