Gundam SEED/Destiny: Yzak x Dearka
Title: How to Bake an Yzak Jule Cake
Pairing: Yzak Jule x Dearka Elthman
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1287
Summary: A ridiculous idea about Yzak occurs to Dearka. Too bad Yzak found out!
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed/Destiny nor its characters. They belong to Yoshiyuki Tomino and Bandai.
It was a beautiful May morning, the kind where sunlight sparkled off the dew that clung in perfect globes on the grass and leaves; the kind where the scent of spring flowers lingered everywhere on the cool breeze; the kind where fishing would score you a perfect ten-oh; the kind where…
…I’d rather embarrass myself and jump out of the window screaming bloody murder than sit in a stuffy classroom listening to a stuffy professor expound on the merits of Morgenthau’s theory of the state as the cornerstone of modern international relations - which, unfortunately, is my exact state of existence right now, lucky me, Dearka Elsman sulked as he wistfully gazed out the window to the open fields of the ZAFT Military Academy beyond.
“All right then, I’d like you to turn to page 137. You’ll see some exercises that would better enlighten you on our point of discussion,” the professor’s voice broke through his glum thoughts. “We’ve been on this module for two days already, so I expect you’ll find these exercises easy. I’ll give you an hour to answer them. This is graded by the way, so everyone do well!”
The class groaned in unison and several loud protests were heard. Sighing loudly, Dearka tuned out the din, lazily flipped his book to the said page, and immediately goggled in dismay at the rows and rows of blank lines AND broken lines AND bold lines that jumped out at him. “What the hell?! This looks more like a scavenger hunt for the history of Mankind from the dinosaurs up!” he muttered to himself. He thumped his book in irritation and looked around the room. Despite the earlier complaints of his fellow cadets, they had all settled into the seatwork:
Up at the front near the door, Nicol Amarfi was scribbling hastily, a small smile playing on his lips. Dearka rolled his eyes. Can’t believe he’s excited about this. What a nerd. Two rows behind him Arthrun Zala was scrawling in his book with the unruffled, bored-cool expression he usually wore everywhere. Heh, no big deal for him, he can finish this is fifteen minutes. Finally, down his row, Yzak Jule - Dearka’s best friend and currently secret crush - was scowling darkly as he wrote, with rigid firm strokes that Dearka was sure would show through the next pages. Hoo boy, will he have a hissy fit when he sees that! Dearka smiled in spite of himself. He can imagine it now, Yzak throwing a hissy fit. The furrowed brow, flashing ice-blue eyes, and the tight downward set of his mouth as he paced around a room ranting a stream of rated-R oaths - boy he’s high-strung! Dearka honestly found these senseless tantrums endearing because Yzak was really so much like a little kid - well, a potty-mouth kid, that is.
As he stared at Yzak a ridiculous idea suddenly flashed into his mind. He hurriedly tore out a piece of paper from his notebook. Screw the seatwork! This was too precious to leave for later!
An hour later
“All right, pens up!” The professor clapped his hands. Everyone complied except for Dearka, who was scribbling madly away at the final blank on the page.
“Elsman! Pen up!”
“Oh-KAY!” The blond dotted the answer with a flourish and raised his pen, beaming.
“Just in time,” the professor shook his head. “It was a relatively easy seatwork. Did you have trouble with it?”
“No sir, I just wanted to make sure everything was tip-top, up to par with your esteemed standards,” Dearka replied, tongue-in-cheek.
The class sniggered.
“Which is exactly what you should be aiming for,” the professor countered good-naturedly. “Anything less, and you’d better consider moving to a technical school instead.”
The class erupted into laughter, and Yzak said loud enough for the class to hear, “In your face, Dearka!” The blond blushed with embarrassment and quieted down.
“Well, let’s see if you make the cut Elsman,” the professor approached his seat and, before Dearka could react, took his module and headed back to the front. “Let’s see, page 137 was it…” He began flipping through the pages.
“Oh shit!” The blond panicked, jumping out of seat and racing after his module, but it was too late, the professor had found the page. A white sheet of paper drifted lazily to the floor.
“Hm, what’s this?” the professor bent to pick the loose sheet up and Dearka stared in horror as he skimmed it, his brow creasing deeply. An amused smiled curved his lips and he looked up. “Well, it seems Elsman had his mind on something far more interesting than Morgenthau.” Dearka let out a small “eep” and frantically gestured, as discreetly as he could, at his professor, who conveniently ignored him. Clearing his throat, he spoke, clearly enunciating each word, “How to Make an Yzak Jule Cake.” The class fell instantly fell silent and everyone turned to stare at Dearka, who was frozen halfway between his seat and the teacher’s table. “You know,” the professor continued with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I thought you had made an error in grammar and meant how to bake Yzak Jule a cake, but it is clear,” he perused the sheet once more, “that you mean to bake an Yzak Jule-kind of cake.” He tried to keep a straight face. “Though judging from your, ahem, ingredients, I doubt it’ll be very palatable.” Someone guffawed. Dearka cringed when he heard fists slam onto a table, followed by Yzak’s indignant cry of “Nani?!”
“Okay, here we go.” The professor paused. “Everyone, I’m sure this is a welcome deviation from the fascinating Morgenthau, so please listen and perhaps learn the fine art of baking from Mr. Dearka Elsman?” He winked at Dearka.
Dearka prayed the ground would open up and swallow him as the professor read:
“1 ½ cups of flour
1 cup non-fat milk
2 egg yolks
½ cup bitter chocolate
¼ cup vegetable oil
1 cup bile
3 tablespoons chili sauce
Assorted citrus fruit slices to top.
Step one, preheat oven to 700 degrees. Then furiously mix the first seven ingredients till smooth and creamy and splatters appear on your arm and apron. Dump mix in cake pan and throw into oven. Bake for 5 minutes only as cake has a tendency to explode in prolonged extreme temperatures. Phone Nicol Amarfi over to cool it down. May take ten hours. Top with fruits slices to pretty it up - it needs it!
Important! Remember to keep Arthrun Zala away from the kitchen at all times!”
By now, the class was rolling with laughter. The professor finished reading and held the paper out to Dearka. “Here, I think this belongs to you.” With leaden feet Dearka approached and took the paper, only to be smacked on the head from behind by a furious Yzak. “YOU IDIOT!!!” He screamed. “What the hell was that!”
“BUT I can explain!”
“Explain, my foot! How dare you humiliate me in front of the class!” Yzak was positively boiling and smacked him on the head again. “Everyone, shut up!” He glared fiercely at the cadets and they quieted down
“Ouch, damnit, that hurt!” Dearka rubbed his head.
“There’s more where that came from!” Yzak swore, and that’s when Dearka decided the wisest course of action was to escape! He turned and dashed towards the exit. As he made it past the door with Yzak hot at his heels he heard Yzak pause and yell, “Laugh one more time Zala, and I’m gonna pound YOU into a cake!”
Well, look on the bright side, Dearka thought as he ran past the main Academy doors, I get to spend this beautiful morning outdoors after all!
~ end ~
ALTERNATE FLUFFY ENDING (for Yzak/Dearka fans)
Word Count: 918
Dearka prayed the ground would open up and swallow him as the professor read:
“1 ½ cups of flour
1 cup non-fat milk
2 egg yolks
½ cup bitter chocolate
¼ cup vegetable oil
1 cup bile
3 tablespoons chili sauce
Assorted citrus fruit slices to top.
Wait, that’s not it, Dearka stared in confusion as his professor continued reading,
Step one, preheat oven to 700 degrees. Then furiously mix the first seven ingredients till smooth and creamy and splatters appear on your arm and apron. Dump mix in cake pan and throw into oven. Bake for 5 minutes only as cake has a tendency to explode in prolonged extreme temperatures. Phone Nicol Amarfi over to cool it down. May take ten hours. Top with fruits slices to pretty it up - it needs it!
Important! Remember to keep Arthrun Zala away from the kitchen at all times!”
By now, the class was rolling with laughter. The professor finished reading and held the paper out to Dearka. “Here, I think this belongs to you.” With leaden feet Dearka approached and took the paper, only to be smacked on the head from behind by a furious Yzak. “YOU IDIOT!!!” He screamed. “What the hell was that!”
“BUT I can explain!”
“Explain, my foot! How dare you humiliate me in front of the class!” Yzak was positively boiling and smacked him on the head again. “Everyone, shut up!” He glared fiercely at the cadets and they quieted down
“Ouch, damnit, that hurt!” Dearka rubbed his head.
“There’s more where that came from, you fool!” Yzak swore. Just then the bell rang, and everyone stood, quickly heading out the door, managing barely-heard snickers. Athrun walked past them, attempting to hide a smile. Yzak reddened. “You laugh one more time Zala, and I’m gonna pound YOU into a cake!”
“Who’s laughing?” Athrun hurried out the door and shut it behind him. Muffled laughter exploded in the hallway. Yzak threw a venomous glance at Dearka and made to go after Athrun but was stopped by the professor, who was watching the scene unfold with much amusement.
“Calm down Jule, I’m truly sorry if that struck a nerve. But come to think of it, I didn’t embarrass you at all, did I?” The professor gave Dearka a meaningful look.
Yzak turned on the professor. “What do you mean, you didn’t?!” He asked angrily. “I don’t take kindly to being the object of such raucous amusement!”
“But that’s a side of you that everyone knows already,” the professor interjected kindly. He gathered up his things and walked to the door. “Ask Elsman, he’ll clear things up. Don’t kill him before he’s done,” the professor warned before winking at Dearka and pulling the door shut behind him, leaving the two cadets alone in the room.
“Well?” Yzak huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “This had better be good Dearka, or I can’t guarantee you’ll leave this room in one recognizable piece.”
Dearka shook his head as if to clear it, and beamed at Yzak. “He read it wrong!”
“What the hell are you talking about!” Yzak glowered at Dearka, who shoved the paper into his hand. “Read it, he messed it up!” Yzak scanned the paper with a scowl on his face.
Written in Dearka’s hurried script:
How to Bake an Yzak Jule Cake!
Ingredients:
1 ½ cups of flour
1 cup non-fat milk
2 egg whites
¼ cup vegetable oil
½ cup sugar or honey
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate pieces
½ cup chopped nuts
Blue confectioner’s sugar to sprinkle
Marshmallow icing
Lots of whipped cream
Strawberries
Chocolate syrup (drizzle)
- non-substitutable ingredients! Cake is supposed to be sexy!
1. Preheat oven to 450º. Vigorously mix first seven ingredients till smooth and creamy.
2. Dump mix into cake pan and into oven, and bake for 10-15 minutes as cake has a tendency to burn easily under hot temperature.
3. Take cake out to cool.
4. When cool, slather with a generous amount of marshmallow icing and sprinkle blue confectioner’s sugar all around. Top with whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate drizzle.
5. ENJOY YOUR LOVELY DELICOUS CAKE!!!
Yzak twitched, and he whirled on Dearka. “What is this?” he demanded. “Not only do you make me into a cake, you make me a disgustingly sweet one at that! I liked his version better!”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it! He made it all wrong! He made you out to be the way you really are! So it’s all good!”
“Of course it’s not all good. I was the laughingstock of the class and I. Don’t. Like. That,” Yzak gritted through his teeth.
“Well, at least they didn’t hear the real thing. That would’ve been worse.”
“That doesn't matter! It’s still your fault for making such useless, senseless drabbles,” Yzak seethed.
Dearka huffed. “Well! Excuse me for wasting my valuable class time trying to picture you as something sweet and delicious and…ideal! I think I’m the only one who even tries!”
The words were out his mouth before he could stop them, and he felt his cheeks blush hotly, but he glared back at Yzak defiantly.
The silver-haired youth was staring at him oddly “You weirdo,” he finally muttered, shoving the recipe into Dearka’s hands and looking away, but not before Dearka noticed the faint pinkish tinge on his pale cheeks. He went back to his seat and gathered up his books. “Next time, before you even think of turning me into anything, you better ask my damn opinion first.”
Dearka went to his seat and collected his things as well. “Hmm, then I’ll turn you into a frog and you get to choose if you’ll have pink or blue hair,” Dearka laughed, recovering from the awkward moment.
“Just try, I’ll kick your ass.”
“What about, ‘How to make an Yzak Jule loudspeaker’? You get to choose till what decibel it goes up to. Or maybe, ‘How to Make Your Own Talking Yzak Plushie’? We’ll record your real voice. Just don’t scream too much and it’ll sell like hotcakes.”
”Idiot, is that all you can think about?”
All about you? “Mm, pretty much,” Dearka replied, watching his friend’s expression.
Yzak’s lips curled in distaste, but the pink had crept back into his cheeks. “No wonder you’re terrible in class.”
“Hey, I resent that! Is it my problem you’re too…” he stopped short.
Yzak glanced sharply at him.“Too…?”
Too pretty? Too distracting? He felt Yzak’s eyes on him and racked his brain desperately for a safe answer. And then he had it. “Too much like a damn cake with all your silver hair that looks just like icing!” With that, Dearka ran out the door laughing, with an enraged Yzak hot at his heels.
Well, look on the bright side, Dearka thought as he dashed through the main Academy doors, I still get to spend this beautiful morning outdoors with him anyhow!
~ end ~
AN: Haha Yzak and Dearka just crack me up! :P
Pairing: Yzak Jule x Dearka Elthman
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1287
Summary: A ridiculous idea about Yzak occurs to Dearka. Too bad Yzak found out!
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Seed/Destiny nor its characters. They belong to Yoshiyuki Tomino and Bandai.
It was a beautiful May morning, the kind where sunlight sparkled off the dew that clung in perfect globes on the grass and leaves; the kind where the scent of spring flowers lingered everywhere on the cool breeze; the kind where fishing would score you a perfect ten-oh; the kind where…
…I’d rather embarrass myself and jump out of the window screaming bloody murder than sit in a stuffy classroom listening to a stuffy professor expound on the merits of Morgenthau’s theory of the state as the cornerstone of modern international relations - which, unfortunately, is my exact state of existence right now, lucky me, Dearka Elsman sulked as he wistfully gazed out the window to the open fields of the ZAFT Military Academy beyond.
“All right then, I’d like you to turn to page 137. You’ll see some exercises that would better enlighten you on our point of discussion,” the professor’s voice broke through his glum thoughts. “We’ve been on this module for two days already, so I expect you’ll find these exercises easy. I’ll give you an hour to answer them. This is graded by the way, so everyone do well!”
The class groaned in unison and several loud protests were heard. Sighing loudly, Dearka tuned out the din, lazily flipped his book to the said page, and immediately goggled in dismay at the rows and rows of blank lines AND broken lines AND bold lines that jumped out at him. “What the hell?! This looks more like a scavenger hunt for the history of Mankind from the dinosaurs up!” he muttered to himself. He thumped his book in irritation and looked around the room. Despite the earlier complaints of his fellow cadets, they had all settled into the seatwork:
Up at the front near the door, Nicol Amarfi was scribbling hastily, a small smile playing on his lips. Dearka rolled his eyes. Can’t believe he’s excited about this. What a nerd. Two rows behind him Arthrun Zala was scrawling in his book with the unruffled, bored-cool expression he usually wore everywhere. Heh, no big deal for him, he can finish this is fifteen minutes. Finally, down his row, Yzak Jule - Dearka’s best friend and currently secret crush - was scowling darkly as he wrote, with rigid firm strokes that Dearka was sure would show through the next pages. Hoo boy, will he have a hissy fit when he sees that! Dearka smiled in spite of himself. He can imagine it now, Yzak throwing a hissy fit. The furrowed brow, flashing ice-blue eyes, and the tight downward set of his mouth as he paced around a room ranting a stream of rated-R oaths - boy he’s high-strung! Dearka honestly found these senseless tantrums endearing because Yzak was really so much like a little kid - well, a potty-mouth kid, that is.
As he stared at Yzak a ridiculous idea suddenly flashed into his mind. He hurriedly tore out a piece of paper from his notebook. Screw the seatwork! This was too precious to leave for later!
An hour later
“All right, pens up!” The professor clapped his hands. Everyone complied except for Dearka, who was scribbling madly away at the final blank on the page.
“Elsman! Pen up!”
“Oh-KAY!” The blond dotted the answer with a flourish and raised his pen, beaming.
“Just in time,” the professor shook his head. “It was a relatively easy seatwork. Did you have trouble with it?”
“No sir, I just wanted to make sure everything was tip-top, up to par with your esteemed standards,” Dearka replied, tongue-in-cheek.
The class sniggered.
“Which is exactly what you should be aiming for,” the professor countered good-naturedly. “Anything less, and you’d better consider moving to a technical school instead.”
The class erupted into laughter, and Yzak said loud enough for the class to hear, “In your face, Dearka!” The blond blushed with embarrassment and quieted down.
“Well, let’s see if you make the cut Elsman,” the professor approached his seat and, before Dearka could react, took his module and headed back to the front. “Let’s see, page 137 was it…” He began flipping through the pages.
“Oh shit!” The blond panicked, jumping out of seat and racing after his module, but it was too late, the professor had found the page. A white sheet of paper drifted lazily to the floor.
“Hm, what’s this?” the professor bent to pick the loose sheet up and Dearka stared in horror as he skimmed it, his brow creasing deeply. An amused smiled curved his lips and he looked up. “Well, it seems Elsman had his mind on something far more interesting than Morgenthau.” Dearka let out a small “eep” and frantically gestured, as discreetly as he could, at his professor, who conveniently ignored him. Clearing his throat, he spoke, clearly enunciating each word, “How to Make an Yzak Jule Cake.” The class fell instantly fell silent and everyone turned to stare at Dearka, who was frozen halfway between his seat and the teacher’s table. “You know,” the professor continued with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “I thought you had made an error in grammar and meant how to bake Yzak Jule a cake, but it is clear,” he perused the sheet once more, “that you mean to bake an Yzak Jule-kind of cake.” He tried to keep a straight face. “Though judging from your, ahem, ingredients, I doubt it’ll be very palatable.” Someone guffawed. Dearka cringed when he heard fists slam onto a table, followed by Yzak’s indignant cry of “Nani?!”
“Okay, here we go.” The professor paused. “Everyone, I’m sure this is a welcome deviation from the fascinating Morgenthau, so please listen and perhaps learn the fine art of baking from Mr. Dearka Elsman?” He winked at Dearka.
Dearka prayed the ground would open up and swallow him as the professor read:
“1 ½ cups of flour
1 cup non-fat milk
2 egg yolks
½ cup bitter chocolate
¼ cup vegetable oil
1 cup bile
3 tablespoons chili sauce
Assorted citrus fruit slices to top.
Step one, preheat oven to 700 degrees. Then furiously mix the first seven ingredients till smooth and creamy and splatters appear on your arm and apron. Dump mix in cake pan and throw into oven. Bake for 5 minutes only as cake has a tendency to explode in prolonged extreme temperatures. Phone Nicol Amarfi over to cool it down. May take ten hours. Top with fruits slices to pretty it up - it needs it!
Important! Remember to keep Arthrun Zala away from the kitchen at all times!”
By now, the class was rolling with laughter. The professor finished reading and held the paper out to Dearka. “Here, I think this belongs to you.” With leaden feet Dearka approached and took the paper, only to be smacked on the head from behind by a furious Yzak. “YOU IDIOT!!!” He screamed. “What the hell was that!”
“BUT I can explain!”
“Explain, my foot! How dare you humiliate me in front of the class!” Yzak was positively boiling and smacked him on the head again. “Everyone, shut up!” He glared fiercely at the cadets and they quieted down
“Ouch, damnit, that hurt!” Dearka rubbed his head.
“There’s more where that came from!” Yzak swore, and that’s when Dearka decided the wisest course of action was to escape! He turned and dashed towards the exit. As he made it past the door with Yzak hot at his heels he heard Yzak pause and yell, “Laugh one more time Zala, and I’m gonna pound YOU into a cake!”
Well, look on the bright side, Dearka thought as he ran past the main Academy doors, I get to spend this beautiful morning outdoors after all!
~ end ~
ALTERNATE FLUFFY ENDING (for Yzak/Dearka fans)
Word Count: 918
Dearka prayed the ground would open up and swallow him as the professor read:
“1 ½ cups of flour
1 cup non-fat milk
2 egg yolks
½ cup bitter chocolate
¼ cup vegetable oil
1 cup bile
3 tablespoons chili sauce
Assorted citrus fruit slices to top.
Wait, that’s not it, Dearka stared in confusion as his professor continued reading,
Step one, preheat oven to 700 degrees. Then furiously mix the first seven ingredients till smooth and creamy and splatters appear on your arm and apron. Dump mix in cake pan and throw into oven. Bake for 5 minutes only as cake has a tendency to explode in prolonged extreme temperatures. Phone Nicol Amarfi over to cool it down. May take ten hours. Top with fruits slices to pretty it up - it needs it!
Important! Remember to keep Arthrun Zala away from the kitchen at all times!”
By now, the class was rolling with laughter. The professor finished reading and held the paper out to Dearka. “Here, I think this belongs to you.” With leaden feet Dearka approached and took the paper, only to be smacked on the head from behind by a furious Yzak. “YOU IDIOT!!!” He screamed. “What the hell was that!”
“BUT I can explain!”
“Explain, my foot! How dare you humiliate me in front of the class!” Yzak was positively boiling and smacked him on the head again. “Everyone, shut up!” He glared fiercely at the cadets and they quieted down
“Ouch, damnit, that hurt!” Dearka rubbed his head.
“There’s more where that came from, you fool!” Yzak swore. Just then the bell rang, and everyone stood, quickly heading out the door, managing barely-heard snickers. Athrun walked past them, attempting to hide a smile. Yzak reddened. “You laugh one more time Zala, and I’m gonna pound YOU into a cake!”
“Who’s laughing?” Athrun hurried out the door and shut it behind him. Muffled laughter exploded in the hallway. Yzak threw a venomous glance at Dearka and made to go after Athrun but was stopped by the professor, who was watching the scene unfold with much amusement.
“Calm down Jule, I’m truly sorry if that struck a nerve. But come to think of it, I didn’t embarrass you at all, did I?” The professor gave Dearka a meaningful look.
Yzak turned on the professor. “What do you mean, you didn’t?!” He asked angrily. “I don’t take kindly to being the object of such raucous amusement!”
“But that’s a side of you that everyone knows already,” the professor interjected kindly. He gathered up his things and walked to the door. “Ask Elsman, he’ll clear things up. Don’t kill him before he’s done,” the professor warned before winking at Dearka and pulling the door shut behind him, leaving the two cadets alone in the room.
“Well?” Yzak huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “This had better be good Dearka, or I can’t guarantee you’ll leave this room in one recognizable piece.”
Dearka shook his head as if to clear it, and beamed at Yzak. “He read it wrong!”
“What the hell are you talking about!” Yzak glowered at Dearka, who shoved the paper into his hand. “Read it, he messed it up!” Yzak scanned the paper with a scowl on his face.
Written in Dearka’s hurried script:
How to Bake an Yzak Jule Cake!
Ingredients:
1 ½ cups of flour
1 cup non-fat milk
2 egg whites
¼ cup vegetable oil
½ cup sugar or honey
1 cup semi-sweet chocolate pieces
½ cup chopped nuts
Blue confectioner’s sugar to sprinkle
Marshmallow icing
Lots of whipped cream
Strawberries
Chocolate syrup (drizzle)
- non-substitutable ingredients! Cake is supposed to be sexy!
1. Preheat oven to 450º. Vigorously mix first seven ingredients till smooth and creamy.
2. Dump mix into cake pan and into oven, and bake for 10-15 minutes as cake has a tendency to burn easily under hot temperature.
3. Take cake out to cool.
4. When cool, slather with a generous amount of marshmallow icing and sprinkle blue confectioner’s sugar all around. Top with whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate drizzle.
5. ENJOY YOUR LOVELY DELICOUS CAKE!!!
Yzak twitched, and he whirled on Dearka. “What is this?” he demanded. “Not only do you make me into a cake, you make me a disgustingly sweet one at that! I liked his version better!”
“Yeah, that’s exactly it! He made it all wrong! He made you out to be the way you really are! So it’s all good!”
“Of course it’s not all good. I was the laughingstock of the class and I. Don’t. Like. That,” Yzak gritted through his teeth.
“Well, at least they didn’t hear the real thing. That would’ve been worse.”
“That doesn't matter! It’s still your fault for making such useless, senseless drabbles,” Yzak seethed.
Dearka huffed. “Well! Excuse me for wasting my valuable class time trying to picture you as something sweet and delicious and…ideal! I think I’m the only one who even tries!”
The words were out his mouth before he could stop them, and he felt his cheeks blush hotly, but he glared back at Yzak defiantly.
The silver-haired youth was staring at him oddly “You weirdo,” he finally muttered, shoving the recipe into Dearka’s hands and looking away, but not before Dearka noticed the faint pinkish tinge on his pale cheeks. He went back to his seat and gathered up his books. “Next time, before you even think of turning me into anything, you better ask my damn opinion first.”
Dearka went to his seat and collected his things as well. “Hmm, then I’ll turn you into a frog and you get to choose if you’ll have pink or blue hair,” Dearka laughed, recovering from the awkward moment.
“Just try, I’ll kick your ass.”
“What about, ‘How to make an Yzak Jule loudspeaker’? You get to choose till what decibel it goes up to. Or maybe, ‘How to Make Your Own Talking Yzak Plushie’? We’ll record your real voice. Just don’t scream too much and it’ll sell like hotcakes.”
”Idiot, is that all you can think about?”
All about you? “Mm, pretty much,” Dearka replied, watching his friend’s expression.
Yzak’s lips curled in distaste, but the pink had crept back into his cheeks. “No wonder you’re terrible in class.”
“Hey, I resent that! Is it my problem you’re too…” he stopped short.
Yzak glanced sharply at him.“Too…?”
Too pretty? Too distracting? He felt Yzak’s eyes on him and racked his brain desperately for a safe answer. And then he had it. “Too much like a damn cake with all your silver hair that looks just like icing!” With that, Dearka ran out the door laughing, with an enraged Yzak hot at his heels.
Well, look on the bright side, Dearka thought as he dashed through the main Academy doors, I still get to spend this beautiful morning outdoors with him anyhow!
~ end ~
AN: Haha Yzak and Dearka just crack me up! :P