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Chapter 4: Crash and Burn
A harsh banging woke Athrun from his blissful slumber. Athrun tuned the noise out and pulled the blanket over his head, and hoped whoever it was would go away.
Damn it, it was Sunday and who the blazes could it be at the door? Didn’t the jerk know how to use the doorbell?
Cursing colourfully, he rolled onto his stomach and shoved his head under the pillow in a vain attempt to block out the noise. His head throbbed dully, his throat was parched and he felt as if hundreds of rusty needles were poking into his eyeballs. Athrun curled himself into a ball, feeling sick to the stomach. He moaned softly for several seconds until his conscience kicked in, and he began to feel utterly and truly wretched for letting Kira goad him to an asinine drinking game.
Athrun knew that he couldn’t hold his liquor, yet he had enthusiastically agreed when Kira had produced a bottle of tequila, some lemon wedges, the salt shaker and two shot glasses and challenged him to a game of Lick, Suck and Swallow. Perhaps it was the manner the older boy had leaned against the bedroom door, his profile in silhouette and the way he smiled mischievously when he mouthed “Lick, Suck and Swallow” that had caused Athrun to rise to the bait.
Anyway, he had his fun and was now he was paying for it with compound interest. Clutching the pillow hard until his knuckles turned white, Athrun moaned in self-pity.
The banging continued unabated.
Muttering under his breath, he reached out towards the space beside him. “Oi, Kira … get the door will you?” he mumbled piteously.
His hand closed on empty air. Athrun cracked open an eye cautiously, his tousled head peeking from underneath the pillow. Kira was nowhere in sight. Athrun eyes drifted towards the alarm clock, its luminous numbers showed two-thirty P.M. He rolled onto his back, one arm over his eyes to block out the shaft of sunlight that filtered through the partially drawn blinds across the bedroom window.
The banging did not subside.
“Kiiiraaaa! Get the door will you?” Athrun hollered.
Silence was his only answer.
Irritated, he kicked the blankets off, got to his feet unsteadily and scrabbled around in the dirty laundry basket for something serviceable to put on. His hand closed on a t-shirt. He sniffed it cautiously, and deciding that it didn’t smell too awful, quickly drew it over his head.
Glancing over towards his roommate’s empty and un-slept in bed, he wondered idly where the other boy had disappeared to. Sundays were supposed to be their lie-in day, but obviously the jackass at the door had other ideas. From the sound of it, the same jackass was determined to break the door down.
“Quit it already, you dumbass! I’m coming,” Athrun growled. It had better not be Kira on the other side – if he’d forgotten his keys as he sometimes did, Athrun was determined to punish him for making the ear-splitting racket. Athrun dragged himself groggily towards the front door, his mind preoccupied with dozens of naughty schemes on how to punish the object of his obsession.
Grumbling under his breath, Athrun yanked the door open. “This better be goo –” he started irritably.
He got no further. A fist landed squarely between his eyes. He staggered backwards, disbelief on his face, one hand to his streaming nose. The door rebounded and slammed against his forehead. Athrun lost his balance, and landed hard on his rump with small cry of pain. His eyes watered, and he stared at his assailant.
His insides turned to ice.
Kira ambled down the ready-to-eat section of the twenty-four hours convenience store, a shopping basket dangling loosely in one hand. He peered disinterestedly at the array of pre-packaged meals and wondered what to get for lunch. Ever since the unfortunate accident with the springrolls and hot oil, Athrun had taken over the cooking duties. He’d banned Kira from cooking, insisting that he should take it easy until his arm healed, but honestly, Athrun couldn’t even boil an egg, and Kira didn’t relish the idea of having another one of Athrun’s mysterious dishes for lunch.
If Athrun could manage to haul his lazy ass off the bed to prepare lunch, that is.
When Kira had woken up around two P.M., Athrun was still dead to the world, spread-eagled and snoring gently, the blankets twisted around his sleeping form. Kira hadn’t had the heart to wake him and demand lunch after what happened the night before. Anyway, he had a mild hangover to deal with and he doubted very much his stomach could cope with another serving of Athrun’s cooking.
The last dish Athrun had whipped up for their dinner looked like something the cat had regurgitated, but being the loyal friend that he was, Kira had polished off every last morsel of the stuff. It had set like a pile of bricks in his stomach, and that was when Kira decided enough was enough. Not that Athrun wasn’t trying, he really did his best, but the fact remained that he was light years better at fiddling with robotics than he was at cooking. A goofy grin crossed Kira’s face as he recalled the delight evident in the younger boy’s face when Kira had dutifully eaten whatever it was he had served during their meals.
Well, anything to make Athrun happy …
Their domestic arrangements, while far from being perfect, were comfortable enough and they shared the housework equally without fuss. At least they were not living in some version of a bachelor’s pigpen, like most of their mutual acquaintances.
Having made his selection, Kira sauntered towards the medication section in search of some re-hydration salts and disposable razor. He ran his fingers lazily along the shelf, as he proceeded along the aisle. His eyes roamed over the seemingly endless selection of disposable razors – each extolling its supposedly superior virtues. ‘No slip rubber grip’, ‘Extra ll – with Vitamin E for sensitive skin’, ‘Wider handle for a better grip’, ‘Extra moisturiser for a super smooth shave – bring out the Goddess in you!’ – the corny taglines drew a smirk on his face.
Perhaps I should get the pink ones for Athrun and see if it’d really bring out the goddess in him ... whatever the heck it means, he thought impishly.
He threw a couple of packets into his basket after some deliberation. Glancing towards the next shelf, his eyes were drawn towards an array of gaily decorated tubes. His curiosity piqued, Kira picked one up at random.
‘Smooth, silky water based gel – longer lasting – non greasy – gentle on skin – non staining – refreshing chocolate mint taste – edible’
Huh? Kira flipped the tube around. His eyes widened slightly more than usual as he read the blurb on the back of the package.
‘Chocolate Mint Flavoured Personal Lubricant is a silky smooth gel with a chocolate mint flavour to increase the pleasure and comfort of your personal contact ... one hundred percent edible … contains no sugars, perfumes or oils …’
“Fancy meeting you here,” a lazy voice drawled near his elbow. “Shopping, Yamato?”
Turning around, Kira came face to face with the multi-pierced bleached blond Saigo. His face bore the same expression as their last encounter. The enigmatic smirk, an arched eyebrow, and the mirrored sunglasses pushed up over his brows.
Saigo widened his grin and peered into Kira’s shopping basket.
“Oh hey, pink razors! I didn’t know you shave,”
“Very funny,” Kira said humourlessly.
Saigo raised his eyebrows and widened his slanty eyes. “Ooh, are those for lunch?” he pointed at the pre-packed boxes with his pearly white painted nails. “You on a binge or something, Yamato?” Saigo chuckled.
Kira studiously ignored the blond’s jibes and walked off towards the frozen food section. Saigo laughed and followed him, his boots making sharp clicking sounds on the floor. Kira stopped and turned to face him.
“Do you want something? Or are you here to annoy people?” Kira asked dryly.
Saigo grinned, shrugged and spread his arms wide. “Why the hostile attitude? Aren’t we supposed to be research partners?” said Saigo smoothly.
“That may be so,” Kira shot back. Saigo’s proximity made him uncomfortable. Kira couldn’t figure out why, but something about the blond’s body language triggered an alarm at the back of his mind. He wished Saigo would get the hell out of there and leave him alone. “But no one said we have to be friends,” he added acidly.
Saigo pretended to be hurt. “That’s low even for you, Yamato.” And then he added: “Did Zala feed you some nonsense about me?”
Kira narrowed his eyes and glared at the blond. “It’s got nothing to do with Athrun,” he said waspishly. “Keep him out of this,”
Saigo’s ear pricked up. Ah, so it’s ‘Athrun’ …
Rumours suggested that Yamato and Zala were inseparable ‘best friends’, and they were closely protective of each other. Saigo wondered what the true nature of their relationship was and how truly inseparable they were. He stilled the smirk that threatened to split his face in two. Instead, he lowered his arms and apologised, “My bad. Sorry,”
However, Kira merely turned around and strode quickly towards the frozen food section. Saigo followed him doggedly.
“Hey, Yamato,” Saigo called out. “I said I’m sorry,”
Slowing his stride, Kira stopped in the middle of the aisle, bringing the annoying blond following him to a halt as well. “Then quit following me,” Kira snapped.
Saigo took a half-step towards him, and made as if to touch his arm. Kira instinctively brought his free arm up. He suddenly realised he was still holding onto the tube of gel. Quickly dropping the gel into his basket, he covered it up as best as he could with the other stuff.
Cripes, this can be potentially embarrassing … if Saigo sees it, I’m doomed.
Kira decided it’s best to put some distance between the two of them, and quickly. Trying his best not to look as if he was fleeing, he hurried towards the ice cream section and loaded his basket with cartons of his and Athrun’s favourite brand.
Saigo’s eyebrows shot up; Kira was either a secret binger or he was shopping for more than one. Saigo decided on a spur to stalk the violet eyed boy and find out for himself.
Having paid for his purchases, Kira hurried to the car, and threw everything onto the back seat. The encounter with Saigo unsettled him, although he had no clue why. Perhaps it was the blond’s permanent smirk, and his pathetic bad boy attitude. Kira wondered if a person could be infected with stupid by virtue of coming into close contact with an asshole like Saigo.
Kira was engrossed in his thoughts; he utterly failed to notice the motorbike following him from a short distance away.
“UGH ..!!” Athrun reeled in shock and clutched at his nose. What the hell did he do to deserve a punch in the face first thing in the day? He looked from between his fingers at his assailant. The sight that greeted him turned his stomach cold.
Cagalli stared at him with blazing eyes. Athrun wondered if she’d gone berserker.
“YOU JERK!” Cagalli yelled as she stormed into the apartment. “Where is that idiot younger brother of mine?!”
This is bad, he thought, looking around wildly for his missing roommate. Where the heck are you, Kira? I don’t want to deal with your borderline mental twin by myself, and right now she looks like she’s capable of bending tempered steel with her bare hands …
Athrun wiped his bloodied nose with his t-shirt. He stood rooted to the spot as Cagalli crashed through the apartment, screaming for her twin.
“Where the hell is he?” Cagalli demanded.
Athrun didn’t respond. He kept staring. Dealing with the hotheaded blonde during the war was one thing, but right now, he was too dumbstruck to do anything sensible. He was torn between throwing her out of the apartment, letting her rant until she ran out of steam or vomiting the slushy contents of his stomach all over her shirtfront.
“I asked you a question, you jerk! Where is he?!”
“Kira’s not here,” Athrun said sullenly.
Cagalli frowned. “Oh yeah? Is he hiding in there?” Athrun followed the direction of her pointing arm, and his stomach did a double flip.
Oh no, not the bedroom, he thought in mild panic.
“I’m telling you, he’s not here,” Athrun repeated.
Scowling grimly, Cagalli pushed him aside and strode towards the bedroom. “Come out, you coward!” she taunted. “Quit hiding!”
She reached for the doorknob.
Athrun’s reflexes kicked in. He couldn’t risk Cagalli finding the empty tequila bottle, the scraps of lemon skin, the shot glasses and the telltale sign that Kira had crashed in his bed the night before. It wasn’t as if they’d planned to; they had literally passed out, thoroughly stoned. And nothing happened! Nothing that he could remember, that is... However, Cagalli would be bound to notice the scattered clothings and the extra pillow on his bed, and in her current enraged state, would most probably come to a wild conclusion that some sordid unnatural deed, aided by a healthy measure of liquor, had taken place the night before.
Before Cagalli could throw the door open, he wedged himself between the two, effectively blocking her path.
“No way,” he said dryly. “Have you no respect for privacy?”
Cagalli glared daggers at him. “Get out of my way. Let me in!” she snarled.
“Over my dead body,” the words left Athrun’s mouth automatically, startling them both.
“That can be arranged, Athrun Zala,” she hissed. “Now, move,” She shoved him hard on the shoulder and made a grab for the doorknob.
Instantly, Athrun’s hand shot out, slapping her wrist. “I said no,” he snapped, his temper rising.
Cagalli looked shocked for a moment. That was unexpected, and she immediately smelled a rat. She wondered what was behind the closed door Athrun didn’t want her to see.
When Athrun refused to budge, Cagalli gave a frustrated huff, spun on her heels and marched towards the sofa. She glared at the piece of furniture as if mortally offended, then crossed the small space, sank into one of the single-seaters and propped her booted feet on the coffee table. She glared at Athrun, challenging him to comment.
Athrun’s temper rose. Cagalli’s behaviour was beginning to piss him off. He crossed his arms and stared at her stonily. “What’s the meaning of all this? You come here uninvited, hit me and act like a raving lunatic. What’s your problem?”
Cagalli’s nostrils flared. “What’s my problem?” she yelled, her face flushing with anger. “The two of you, half naked, sucking face on the sofa! I saw it with my own eyes, you pervert, so don’t you dare deny it!”
Suddenly, Athrun didn’t know what to do. There was no point denying it, Cagalli had seen them for a good two minutes at least, before he had the presence of mind to cut the vidphone connection. Both he and Kira had been utterly rattled; they had almost expected Cagalli to suddenly appear on their doorstep with a semi-automatic and pump them full of lead. However, nothing happened for almost a week and they’d lowered their guards and got on with their daily routine.
“Well?” Cagalli continued when Athrun remained silent. “Do you bloody care to explain?”
Snorting derisively, Athrun returned her glare. “No,”
“No?” Cagalli shouted. The cords on her neck tautened.
“I don’t owe you any explanation,” Athrun said, not backing down. “And neither does Kira.”
They glowered at each other, each stubbornly not willing to concede to the other. The silence turned oppressive; Cagalli finally looked away and fixed her eyes on the opposite wall.
“Put some trousers on for goodness sake,” she muttered darkly. “Jerk,” she added in an undertone.
Athrun started, and looked down in embarrassment. He cringed and slapped himself mentally. In his hurry, he’d answered the door in a stained and smelly t-shirt and his sleep shorts. Quickly excusing himself, he disappeared into the bedroom and appeared a few minutes later decently dressed with his hair smoothed down.
Ignoring the blonde, Athrun slouched to the kitchen and brewed himself a strong cup of coffee. He tipped the mechanical cat off his chair and sat down at the dining table. Scanning around to make sure the blonde was nowhere in sight, he propped his elbows on the table and sank his head into his hands.
“Kira … where are you?” Athrun sighed inwardly and wished that Kira would come home soon and calm his twin down. Athrun had neither the patience nor clue when it came to dealing with highly strung drama queens. He blamed it partially on his past altercations with a certain white-blond ZAFT pilot.
Heavy footsteps rang on the hallway. Cagalli marched into the kitchen and planted herself squarely before him. “Aren’t you going to get me some?”
“What?” Athrun asked wearily. His head throbbed dully, and the sunlight caused flashes of pain to sting at the back of his eyes.
“Coffee,” she said dryly, pointing at his mug.
Athrun glared at her, pushed himself off his chair and got a mug from the dish rack. He stole a glance over his shoulder; Cagalli seemed to be absorbed in some private thought, her fingers drumming a tuneless tattoo on the tabletop. He poured coffee into the mug and feeling uncharacteristically mean, spooned some salt into it. He hesitated for a bit and stirred in another heaped spoonful.
“Here.” He handed the mug over, settled himself in his chair and massaged his temples slowly. Tori flew into the kitchen and settled on his head with a happy chirp.
Cagalli glared at the robotic bird, grunted under her breath and took a sip of the coffee. Her eyes crinkled in distaste but she said nothing. Carefully keeping her expression neutral, she drained the whole mug and set it down on the table. Athrun cocked an eyebrow; despite himself, he was amazed at the girl’s gall.
After an indeterminable amount of time had passed in awkward silence, Cagalli took a steadying breath and looked at the younger boy squarely in the eyes.
“Are you guys a couple?” she asked bluntly.
Taken aback, Athrun almost choked on his coffee. “What? What did you say?” he sputtered.
“You and Kira, dumbass!” Cagalli felt like she was talking to a mentally arrested kid. Stupid Coordinator. “Are you a couple?” she repeated.
This time the coffee really went up Athrun’s nostrils and he choked.
“Wha … what do you mean?”
Cagalli rolled her eyes in exasperation. “Don’t act dumb, you jerk! Are you two screwing each other?”
“WHAT?!” Athrun recoiled, as if she’d punched him physically in the guts. The mug slipped from his hands and shattered on the floor. Tori chirped indignantly, pecked him sharply on the head and flew off in a whirl of mechanical wings.
Cagalli narrowed her eyes into slits and stared at him coldly.
“You heard me,” she said icily, a hint of something dark and thoroughly unpleasant in her tone.
Athrun glared at her, his heart thundering audibly in his chest. His pulse quickened, and his hands turned to fists. A low hiss escaped through his clenched teeth.
Cagalli noted the tension apparent in the set of Athrun’s features with detached interest. It seemed she had hit on a raw nerve.
She decided to go for the jugular.
A small frown furrowed Kira’s brows as the front door swung open at his touch. He swore he’d locked it when he left earlier that afternoon. He examined the lock for any sign of forced entry, and finding none, heaved a sigh of relief. Gathering his packages in his arms, he crossed the living room, his feet padding silently on the carpet.
Sounds of heated argument coming from the direction of the kitchen halted him in mid step. Instantly, his ears pricked up as recognition dawned. Cagalli must have had dropped in while he was out, and judging from the angry sounds emanating from the kitchen she was giving Athrun the second degree. He felt sorry for Athrun, having to bear the brunt of his twin’s anger.
Slowly, so as not to alert anyone of his presence, Kira lowered his packages to the floor and flattened himself against the wall. The tension was stifling; he could hear nothing but the sound of his overloud heartbeat thumping in his chest. He forced himself to relax.
“Don’t act dumb, you jerk! Are you two screwing each other?”
Kira’s eyes widened in disbelief, and his mouth opened in a startled ‘O’ as the accusation flew from Cagalli’s mouth, the bitterness evident in her tone. Kira bit his lower lip nervously, and shivered involuntarily as a cold prickling started on the back of his neck. If he was totally honest with himself, he’d conceded her reaction to be justifiable. After all, Cagalli still harboured an interest in Athrun -- that much he knew, but the question was, to what extent?
Nevertheless, the question that mattered to him most was Athrun’s feelings towards him. Were they genuine, or were they empty promises made in a moment of hormone driven insanity?
Kira shifted closer to the door and held his breath.
Athrun panted, his own breathing felt like dry fire in his chest, his eyes fixed on the blonde fury sitting an arm’s length away from him. Cagalli stared at him impassively, her eyes boring holes into the pits of his soul, peeling away at his defences, crushing them under the weight of her anger.
Cagalli’s anger was intensified by the humiliation she had felt when she had been an unwitting witness to what in her mind was an act of unforgivable debauchery committed by two of the most important men in her life. While most straight women might have gotten rather turned on to see pretty boys getting it off with each other, Cagalli had found the very idea extremely offensive.
For years she had kept her distaste under wraps, resolute in her belief that same gender attraction was the handiwork of the Devil himself. And when she had been witness to her twin and his best friend’s indiscretion, her initial shock had quickly turned to anger which later bloomed into an all out rage.
Never in her wildest dreams had she expected the two of them to be involved with each other in that way. Deep down, she still harboured an attraction towards Athrun, although she had a niggling suspicion it was entirely one sided. The accidental discovery hurt even more when she realised her rival was none other than her twin brother, Kira.
Struggling against the urge to rip both Athrun and Kira’s innards out with her bare hands, she turned her fury full force upon the unfortunate dark haired boy.
“Oh wait, let me guess,” Cagalli said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re innocent, yeah? Kira did all the screwing, isn’t that so? You … you just lie back and play the ewe to his ram,”
Play the ewe to his ram …
Athrun saw red. It wasn’t what Cagalli was saying, it was how she said it. Furious beyond words, he leapt to his feet, knocking his chair back in the process. The chair clattered noisily as it hit the floor.
“You just shut your mouth!” he snarled, his green eyes flashing with anger. His hand shot out, grabbing Cagalli by the collar. “You have no right to judge us!”
Fuck, Cagalli thought. I must have hit the nail on the head. He’s really pissed off …
Steeling herself, Cagalli slapped his hand away and rose to her feet.
“I have every right to do so!” said Cagalli grimly. “Kira’s my brother,”
“He’s not a kid. You can’t boss him around!”
“He’s toying with you,”
“Kira would never!” Athrun retorted vehemently, his face red with anger. I would never, he added mentally.
Cagalli narrowed her eyes. This is beyond gross. I’d never have guessed the two of them getting involved in that way. I must put a stop to all this nonsense. After all, God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve …
She took a half step closer towards Athrun, a vein throbbing in her temple.
“Are you denying it then, Athrun Zala?” she taunted, bent on shocking him back to the straight and narrow.
“Deny what?”
“Are you stupid or something? Do I have to spell it out for you?”
Athrun frowned, looking perplexed. “Huh?”
“Are you screwing the hell out of each other, you pathetic piece of shit?!” Cagalli screeched, her chest heaving painfully.
What the hell? Athrun was struck dumb by the loathing evident in her tone. His eyes darted erratically, and the cords on his neck tautened. He fought the urge to strike out, to slam her against the wall and shut her up for good, but what good would it do? They would probably end up killing each other, and then, what would Kira think?
Athrun realised that whatever he chose to do, he must never reveal the secret that no one should know. The secret he’d kill to keep inside him; that he was obsessed with Kira, an obsession that ran so deep he nearly drowned in it.
“Kira …” the name escaped his lips before he could stop himself.
Cagalli glowered, her hands curling into fists. Why was it always Kira on his brains?
“Is that all you can think about? Kira, Kira, Kira?!”
“You are wrong,”
“Then tell me! Tell me, Athrun!”
Athrun’s mind went blank. He couldn’t think of what to say. He could never tell Cagalli the truth. Frustration welled in him and he slammed his fist against the wall, hard.
“Stop it,” said Athrun, his voice cracking.
Cagalli stared at him impassively. The anger within her abated slightly.
“If there’s no truth in it, why are you so angry?” Cagalli asked quietly.
Athrun couldn’t fight the logic. Suddenly he felt as if the wind had been taken off his sails. He slumped against the table. His hands rose to his head and he pulled at his hair violently.
Cagalli watched the abrupt change in Athrun’s behaviour with a mixture of mild panic and disgust. Hmm, perhaps the shock tactic worked and manage to knock some sense into his head. Coordinator or not, idiots are still idiots, she thought. She leaned forwards and came to a dead stop inches from him. Her gaze roamed over the effeminate, confused face so near her own.
“Are you gay, Athrun?” she asked calmly, staring into the younger boy’s eyes. The hard light in her gaze told him she wasn’t kidding this time.
A flicker of confused emotions clouded Athrun’s exotic green eyes. Truth be told, he’d never considered that question. He was besotted with Kira, that was true; but it had never crossed his mind that it was because he was a closet homosexual. He wasn’t remotely attracted to anyone else – female or male. They could perform a lap dance on him and he wouldn’t even get a rise out of it. But Kira was different. He adored Kira for who he was, and the question of his gender somehow didn’t seem to matter.
Athrun turned away from Cagalli’s probing gaze to stare at his hands. A stab of guilt pierced through him at the thought of his currently absent best friend, Kira’s parents and their common acquaintances. What would they think? How would they react?
Athrun had never expected Kira to ever reciprocate his feelings, but destiny had seen it fit to throw them together – at least up to now. He had never considered how others would react if and when they find out about the true nature of their relationship. Athrun doubted very much if Kira had given it much thought either.
He swallowed thickly against the sour taste at the back of his throat.
“I’m not,” Athrun’s voice was very quiet. He looked dejected.
Cagalli looked at Athrun with curious eyes. If Athrun didn’t swing that way, the only logical answer lay with her aberrant twin. Her mind raced; wasn’t Kira at one point in his life involved with the now deceased Fllay? Could it be the episode triggered some deep seated trauma and caused him to deviate and turn to his childhood friend for comfort?
Far fetched as it may sound it wasn’t entirely impossible. Immediately following Athrun’s decision to switch sides and fight alongside Kira, the two had quickly re-bonded. They had been inseparable, despite the fact the crew hadn’t been entirely comfortable with the development. After all, who knew what really went on behind the closed doors of the sleeping quarters the two shared during those stressful and traumatic final weeks of the war?
“Is Kira toying with you then?” Cagalli asked.
“No!” Athrun hesitated, unsure, momentarily, how to proceed.
Cagalli pondered her options for a while, then took a step closer and pulled him into her arms.
Athrun stared blankly at her for a few silent, tense moments, his arms rigid at his sides; his mind going over the events, wondering what had happened to bring about such an abrupt change in Cagalli’s behaviour.
“We’ll see,” she said mysteriously. There’s only one way to find out, she thought to herself grimly.
Tightening her hold on the younger boy’s arms, she pulled him against her chest and kissed him squarely on the mouth.
Kira listened in mute disbelief at the drama unfolding before him. Dizziness flooded him, but his heart was thumping too fiercely for him to pay any attention to it. He slumped against the wall, feeling utterly wretched and betrayed. Hot tears prickled at the back of his eyes; he couldn’t fight the surge of jealousy that was building in the pits of his heart.
Why Cagalli, of all people? I don’t want to share Athrun’s affections with anyone, least of all my twin sister! Kira thought bitterly.
The force of his anger startled him. He knew the truth, of course. He knew what was happening to him, and the extent of his feelings for Athrun. It had progressed beyond ‘best friends’ – he didn’t know when the transition happened, nor did he care. He couldn’t bear leaving Athrun to face the music all alone.
Gathering his courage, he stepped through the doorway.
And froze.
God, no! Kira’s eyes widened in disbelief. Before he could stop himself, a short sharp gasp of escaped from his chest. His chest rose and fell erratically, and he struggled to maintain his composure.
“Athrun …” Hot tears prickled at the back of his eyes, and before he could stop them, before he could blink, his vision blurred and the tears splashed wetly on his cheeks. Nothing he did could stem the flow, he clenched his fists, nails digging painfully into his palms.
Athrun jerked at the sound of Kira's voice, his mouth fell open and he recoiled at the look of pure anguish on Kira’s face. After a few moments, he pushed Cagalli brusquely away, swallowed and took a deep breath, staring at the older boy in confusion.
“Kira!” Athrun took a half-step towards him. “It’s not --,”
Their eyes met.
Hurt, anger, confusion, betrayal – the emotions were evident in Kira’s eyes. Without saying a word, he spun on his heels and ran towards the other direction, Athrun following hard on his heels.
S.P.a.G beta by Passo and Starkiller.
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