Dearka flinched as his silver-haired roommate hollered at him from the bedroom.

"Damn it, Dearka! Where are my shoes?"

"Since when is it my responsibility to keep track of your things?" he called back coolly. It was the third time in a week that the blue-eyed youth had asked him the same question, and Dearka never knew the answer.

"Check the closet," the blonde suggested, casually focusing once more on the pages of the magazine in his hand.

Yzak stormed out of the double bedroom and stalked his way furiously to the hall closet, flinging the door open with a sour look on his face.

"If they aren't here, I'm going to…" he trailed off, falling silent as he spotted a pair of white footwear. "It's about damn time," he muttered to no one in particular.

Dearka smirked and glanced up from his spot on the sofa. "Happy now?"

"Don't give me that look," Yzak huffed, pulling his left shoe on distractedly. "Some of us have briefings to attend, but I suppose you wouldn't know anything about that, seeing as you're always such a lazy, worthless β€”"

"As a matter of fact," the tanned boy cut him off, "I have plenty of my own work to do. It just so happens that I'm not expected anywhere for the next hour and a half." He finished his sentence with a cheeky smirk, relishing the look of fury that passed across the opposite boy's features.

The pale youth had prepared a sly response of his own, however. "At least we know which of us will be getting promoted in the near future," he sneered.

"You really shouldn't make that face," Dearka commented absently, "You look much more flattering when you smile." He checked the other boy's reaction, pleased that he had been able to annoy him further. So maybe he'd never actually seen the bad-tempered boy smile – the tiny lie was worth it if it would get his roommate riled up.

"Shut up," Yzak gritted, tugging his jacket roughly from the hanger. "Get off your ass and do something. I'm going to be late."

"What's the big deal?" Dearka persisted, rising from his spot and abandoning the magazine. "Nicol will be there. He can give you the details afterward."

"What, and let word get out that I had an unexcused absence?" The Coordinator folded his arms defiantly. "That'd give Zala the perfect excuse to report me. Enough already. I'm going. I'm late."

Dearka frowned. "You know what you just reminded me of?"

"Do I look like I care?" came the quick reply, but the silver-haired boy didn't move, searching the blonde's violet eyes with dim interest.

"Alice in Wonderland," Dearka replied, hands on his hips, a tiny smirk creeping its way onto his features.

"WHAT?" Yzak was livid. "That stupid story from when we were little? I was suspicious, Elsman, but now I'm sure of it: You. Are. Delusional." The other Coordinator spelled it out quite clearly.

"Heh," Dearka savored his small triumph, "You assumed I meant you looked like that Alice chick, didn't you?"

Yzak froze halfway to the door. "Excuse me?"

"You didn't even wait to hear the rest of what I said," the tanned youth explained. "Guess that shows what's been on your mind. Cross-dress much, do you?"

Yzak spun around and gripped the other boy by the collar. "Tell me what you meant," he snarled viciously.

Dearka barely reacted, matching the other glare for glare. "It was just something stupid. You reminded me of the white rabbit, is all. He was always late."

Yzak released him slowly, seeming to relax. "You fool," he grunted, "Stop wasting my time. I'm going."

He strutted to the door as Dearka moseyed into the tiny kitchenette. Dearka waited until the blue-eyed boy had his hand on the doorknob before hailing him again.

"Forgetting something?" he called slyly.

Yzak whirled as Dearka motioned to a brown paper bag on the counter.

"Lunch," the tanned pilot of the Buster specified, quite unnecessarily.

"Toss it to me," Yzak demanded, holding out both hands.

Dearka lifted an eyebrow, shaking his head hopelessly. "Now that won't do," he grinned. "I'm sure it would fall apart if I threw it at you."

"Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?" Yzak spat in contempt as he made his way across the room, irritated far beyond his usual limits.

Dearka was leaning casually against the counter top, watching Yzak as he approached. When the silver-haired mobile suit pilot motioned for him to step aside, he planted his feet firmly and didn't budge.

"God damn it, move." A command. Dearka stood his ground.

At last, Yzak was forced to reach around behind him, squeezing half his upper body between the tall blonde and the counter. Snatching his lunch with a vise-like grip, he began to pull away again. Dearka caught him by the wrist, and the other boy started.

"Let go of me," he managed to respond through his surprise. "I need to leave."

"You know, it's funny," Dearka observed, ignoring the command to let go, "You've been saying that for quite some time now, but for some reason you still haven't left." Dearka thought he caught a hint of a blush.

"What of it? You haven't allowed me to leave," Yzak reminded him, "So I couldn't."

"That's right," came Dearka's reply next to his ear, low and seductive. "I won't let you go just yet."

Dearka felt the other boy tense. He released Yzak's wrist, stepping forward to wrap his arms around his partner's slender figure from behind. Yzak flinched when Dearka pressed against him, running a stray fingertip down his back, his warm breath caressing the nape of his neck.

"Dearka." He spoke the name with force, but the icy boy's tone was no longer as harsh as it had been moments ago.

"What?" he answered restlessly, planting a hot kiss on the side of the shorter male's neck. He heard Yzak's breathing quicken, and the silver-haired Gundam pilot gripped the counter top with both hands until his knuckles turned white.

"Dearka, stop," he ordered, though it didn't appear to sound genuine.

"Ah, but you don't really want me to, do you?" the blonde whispered suggestively into his silky hair, lips forming the soft words with ease and practice.

"Damn it," Yzak cursed with feeling, "You are such a β€”"

"A what?" Dearka tempted him, running his hands down the boy's lower abdomen and thighs, fingers straying to his belt buckle.

Yzak spun away from him, locking his icy blue eyes with Dearka's violet ones, his face an impenetrable mask. "Get off me. You compared me to a rabbit, you idiot."

The blonde chuckled. "Would it help if I reminded you that it was a very adorable, fuzzy white rabbit?" he asked, backing Yzak into the wall as he ran a hand through the other boy's silken locks.

Yzak didn't have time to respond. Dearka placed both forearms against the wall, boxing in his quarry and leaving little room for movement. He caught Yzak's mouth in a controlling lock, running a tongue teasingly over his lower lip and silently congratulating himself as the pale youth let out an involuntary moan of pleasure and began to react. The two broke for air, and Dearka could tell his partner was aching for more.

"Change your mind about leaving yet?" the blonde Coordinator asked insolently.

Yzak hesitated in an attempt to regain his control, but one more kiss from Dearka settled the matter.

"You'd better make this worth it," the silver-haired boy replied dangerously.

"Oho, don't worry," Dearka reassured him with a mischievous grin, "I will."

A/N: Eheh, forgive me, everyone. That was basically nothing but Dearka/Yzak fluff to satisfy my own random fantasies. It was lame, I'll admit, but I wrote it anyway. I just can't help myself. o I'm so scandalous.