Author's Notes: Somewhat plotless, quite a bit OOC, but shonen-ai nonetheless. That's your warning, have fun with it.

Title: Fait Accompli

Written By: Melfice

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The pounding in my head this morning seems a lot worse than it was last night. It had been a dull kind of pain then, subtle even. Now it's a different kind of agony altogether and I have to wonder if this is how it feels to be trampled by a horse.

Groaning, I pull a pillow over my eyes and began to drift back to sleep. It's possible that if I sleep a bit longer, then I might be able to get rid of this throbbing headache that seems to be trying to tear itself out of my forehead.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I think it rattled my brain that time. It's really possible that it's coming from the door and not my head, now that I think about it. Even thinking is starting to hurt though...Maybe I should just go answer it and get it all over with. Or maybe whoever is there will go away?

I roll over, almost falling off the bed, and I have to admit that, had I fallen, I probably wouldn't have gotten back up. My bare feet meet the wooden floor and I almost collapse onto it again, suddenly blind by the sudden burst of sunlight that's filtering in through the windows. I mutter several colorful words and curses, none of which I will ever say aloud, and stumble over to the window, somehow managing to close the curtains shut without opening my eyes. Once I feel the sunlight hidden away, my eyes slowly open again and I try to remember what it was I was doing out of bed.

Oh right, door.

I sigh and drag myself back across the room, kicking a pair of leather boots out of the way as I go, one hand pressed against my temple. How far away is that door anyway? I swear it's moving...

For the record, there are probably only a handful of people that could be behind that door that I would want to see at such an hour. Let me rephrase that. There are only a handful of people that could be behind that door, that I would want to see at this hour, on a day that is supposed to be dedicated to rest.

It's easy enough to tell, as soon as I open the door, that it's not one of those people.

"Hiyah, Heath!"

I grab hold of the door frame in a last attempt to keep myself from toppling over. I feel like someone just beat me over the head with an iron rod--repeatedly. What have I done to deserve such tortures?

"What...do you need, Serra?" I manage, one of my hands shielding my eyes from the obtrusive light from the hallway.

"Oh, I'm taking donations for the needy," Serra replies, bouncing back and forth happily. "In other words, me!"

I was awoken from my beautiful, wonderful sleep...For this? Someone, somewhere, really hates me.

"So, are you going to donate? All donations go towards buying me my own personal slav-"

The door shuts, perhaps a bit too loudly, and I practically crawl back over to my bed, feeling grateful when the knocking doesn't begin again. Either the door hit her little pink head when I shut it and she's unconscious, or she took the hint and left. Right now, I really don't care which it is.

I fall back into bed and pull the covers back up over me. It's so much warmer here, so much nicer...and quiet. The pounding in my head is slowly starting to soften and it's dark enough in here that I can't even tell it's morning.

Next to me, I feel movements and my eyes open again, only to be met with the back of someone's purple colored hair. Anyone else in this position would've just assumed it was someone they'd met last night and gone back to sleep, but not me. Oh no, I know who it is and that's exactly why I'm having to tell myself one thing over and over again...

Do not panic. Do not panic.

Slowly, I sit up and gaze down at the sleeping man next to me. Exactly how long has he been here anyway? I didn't notice him when I got up...Of course, I do still feel like someone is beating me over the head with a hammer. More importantly, what exactly is he doing in bed with me?

I'm fully clothed, right? Yes...It appears so. That's a good thing though--I did just talk to Serra after all. I think I would die if I had opened the door and not been dressed. But my being completely dressed also means that I didn't do anything...I might regret...during my intoxicated stage last night.

What exactly do I remember about last night...?

"Mm..."

One small noise and I feel like I'm going to have a heart attack. I really need to calm down. There's nothing to be panicking about. Why should I be afraid of him waking up? At least then I could get some answers, instead of making up my own pitiful excuses. Of course, what if he wakes up and he has no idea why he's here either?

I watch as he turns over again, this time in my direction. His arm slides against the spot where I had been laying moments ago and his eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. One lavender eye opens, moves from his arm up to my face and I feel my breath catch.

Why am I so tense all of a sudden? I think I liked it better when he was asleep and...not looking at me...

...I do, right?

I'm so confused.

"Legault...what are you doing here?" my voice is probably too low for him to hear, but I'm afraid that if I talk any louder that I might hurt my ears. Even this low volume is a little much...That silence was so nice.

Lithe fingers wrap around the hem of my shirt and he tugs on it slightly. I slowly lay back down, maybe a little too much on my own free will, my eyes never leaving him. His arm slips around my waist and he rests his head on my shoulder, eyes closing, and I feel my face begin to burn.

"I'll tell you in a few hours."

Now that this haze seems to have lifted from my head, it's making it much easier to think. I can even remember a few things from the previous night. I'd been...upset about something...I think?

Legault had been there, with less than helpful words, but offering a very helpful bottle of wine. I think I probably drank most of it, but I can remember him drinking some as well.

There's something nagging at me in the back of my head, but I cannot figure out what it is. Something important, I know. Did I say something I shouldn't have? I really can't remember, but, from some reason, I feel very odd all of a sudden...

He shifts next to me again and sighs. "Why must you always be so tense? I feel like I'm trying to sleep next to a tree."

"Because...I can't remember what happened last night."

"I think it's pretty obvious that you drank like a fish."

This time, I'm the one that sighs. "I know that much."

Legault moves his head from my shoulder and looks at me, amused. "What is it that you want me to say? That I got you drunk, drug you off to your room and ravaged you senseless? If that will make you go back to sleep..."

If my face got anymore red, I might start to consider that I have a fever. From the look on his face, it's really only helping his amusement. "Y-You didn't really..."

He laughs softly and lays back down. "No, you passed out sometime after your head hit the pillow. You can put your fears away, Heath, I only slept in here because you wouldn't let go of my arm."

"Oh."

Lavender eyes shift back over to look at me and I feel my facing him again, watching that amused smirk widen ever so slightly. "'Oh?'"

I open my mouth to say something, but I really have no idea what is I want to say. My mouth closes again and I lay there for a second, silent.

I'm glad nothing happened last night. Yet...am I glad because I didn't want anything to happen...or...Am I glad because...if something had happened...I would want to remember it?

This line of thoughts is not helping the color of my face any. If anything, I'm sure it's probably making it worse. The sparkle in his eyes is familiar though and I seem to remember something like this happening last night.

Sitting out on one of the many balconies, the cloudy sky our only other company...He'd seemed actually concerned about my depressed mood and had tried to cheer me up--and it had worked, of course.

I remember blushing like a maiden from all his teasing, Legault enjoying ever second of it, the warmth I felt just from sitting next to him, and the pleasant taste of wine-- on his lips.

...Oh, shit.

"Heath," Legault says then in a moment of odd seriousness, probably sensing my discomfort, but I don't think he knows why I'm uncomfortable. "It's too early to worry about what happened last night."

I really do want to go back to sleep, seeing as how the sun is only barely above the mountains, and this is a day of rest. Serra is gone--or unconscious--and I doubt I'll be interrupted again for a long time.

Yet, I don't think I'm going to be getting any sleep right now.

It couldn't have happened. I'll admit--albeit to myself--that Legault is...very attractive...but I wouldn't...I would never have kissed him, even if I had been drunk out of my mind and his hand HAD been on my thigh...I wouldn't...have...

Damn it...I can't even convince myself that I didn't.

"Heath?"

"I..." I can feel his eyes on me again, but I'm too busy looking at the walls...the ceiling...Anything but him. "How...drunk were you last night?"

Maybe he doesn't remember it. If he was as drunk as I was, then it's possible that it slipped his mind and I'm home free.

"I wasn't," he replies, running a hand through his hair, eyes still on me. "A little tipsy maybe, but not drunk."

I can hear my hopes and plans crashing down around me.

Someone...anyone...kill me now.

This shouldn't be bothering me so much...I can always just feign that I don't remember anything at all that happened last night. That I don't remember any of my own actions, or any of his that resulted from them...

Except that I'm not entirely sure that I want to.

He grabs hold of my arm and, none too gently, pulls me onto my back. His eyes lock with mine and he moves a strand of white hair from my face. "You, on the other hand, drank enough for the two of us."

I don't think I can even feel my headache anymore, especially not with his fingers tracing along my face like they are. He has this way of making me forget everything but him--much like last night--and I'm starting to think that maybe I shouldn't have drank so much.

"I'm sorry."

I don't expect him to know what I'm talking about, but, from the look in his eyes, I can tell immediately that he does. He looks away and focuses his attention on the ceiling, those slender fingers leaving my skin. "I don't want you to be sorry."

"I am though," I reply and I have the sudden urge to put my hand on his arm, or rest my head against his, or...Just anything to touch him. "I was drunk and I--" couldn't look at anything but you "--wasn't thinking..."

"And you didn't mean for it to happen," he finishes, sighing. "Yes, yes, I know that."

My next words leave my mouth without my consent or approval. "I didn't say that."

Lavender eyes turn their attention back on me, but I'm looking to the side again, not entirely sure why I'm allowing myself to speak anymore. I can't possibly be helping the situation any.

"What is it..." Legault begins softly and I can feel shivers travel up my spine. "...that you are saying, Heath?"

What exactly is it that I want to say? Am I really sorry? I certainly don't feel sorry--especially not with the way he's looking at me. What am I supposed to say anyway? "I DID mean for it to happen, it's just...You said, a while back, that you were just joking about...about..."

"Loving you?"

Damn him and his ability to make me blush. "...Yes. I've been expecting you to be angry."

He laughs and I can't help but look at him. His eyes turn to me again and I have to admit I'm glad to see the mischief there again. "Heath, you seem to forget that I was kissing you too--and I wasn't drunk. I think that's a dead giveaway that my feelings for you are more than platonic."

He pauses and then his expression changes to amused. "I would've thought all of the flirting and suggestive comments would have given it away sooner."

"I thought you just enjoyed bothering me."

"Obviously it doesn't bother you too much," Legault replies, grinning, "seeing as how you seemed disappointed that nothing obscene happened last night."

I watch him for several long moments, trying to find some clever comeback, but knowing that I'll never find anything. I barely manage to suppress a yawn.

"...It's still too early for this."

"I could have sworn I told you that," Legault replies, then pushes a stray lock of hair behind his ear and sighs. "I'm going back to my room--otherwise you'll never get your mind off of this and go to slee-"

He's right though. If he stays, I'll probably spend the whole time watching him sleep and never get any rest myself.

"No!" yet again, my brain and my mouth aren't cooperating. He looks at me with that knowing grin and I feel myself blushing again. Why does he always know everything I'm going to do? "...Damn it."

"Heath, you're adorable when you're angry."

"...Adorable...great..." I sigh and relax, closing my eyes when I feel his fingers trailing down my arm. "I lied...about being sorry. I'm not really..."

Legault's fingers intertwine with mine and he moves closer, so that he's whispering into my ear. "I know."

For those interested, Fait Accompli means "An accomplished and presumably irreversible deed or fact."

Just a little FYI ;)