Hello~ This is our first story we've posted. We being me, Zero, and my friend Kaito. We share this account. She wrote this for me for Christmas :) I liked it so much I decided to post it. I hope you like it too~

Sunlight streamed through the windows of the Knight Academy, resting in thick yellow stripes over the cluttered desks of its chattering students. It was a friendly-looking classroom, large and open and full of glowing faces. It was the last day before the weekend, so naturally spirits were high and the room was buzzing with excitement.

Professor Owlan, attempting to look stern but not entirely succeeding, rapped the chalkboard commandingly. "Come on now. I know it's the last day before break, but you need to pay attention. Diligence is –"

" – one of the best qualities a knight can possess," finished Groose under his breath, looking bored.

Owlan narrowed his eyes. "Funny how you know that, Groose, seeing as you're one of the least diligent ones here."

"Ooh," the class chorused.

Groose rolled his eyes, unfazed.

"This is the 34th code of being of knight," Owlan continued, writing it out quickly but neatly on the chalkboard. "Some of the seniors already know this, but I need everyone – including Groose – to copy it down anyway."

The classroom was quiet save for the tiny scratching sounds of pencils on paper. Link, so tired that he felt like he might pass out at any second, struggled to form each letter on the page. He had stayed up the night before talking to Zelda about a problem with her Loftwing, and now he was exhausted. He wondered if he had given her the right advice. He probably should have asked Pipit – Pipit knew everything there was to know about birds.

Owlan underlined the code. "'Code 34: Honor the fallen, especially those of the enemy.' What do you think this means?" He paused, his hawklike eyes surveying the room. "Why don't you get into pairs and discuss it?"

"Pairs?" asked Cawlin in a slightly whiney voice. "As in, only two people?"

"Yes, Cawlin," said Owlan patiently. "That's what a pair is."

Cawlin looked around uneasily, and Link knew that he wanted to be with his posse leader, Groose, and his fellow lackey, Stritch. The trio was nothing but trouble.

"Hey, Link."

He felt someone tap him on the shoulder. It was Pipit, looking bright and perky as he always did. The sunlight hit his yellow outfit just right, making it seem to glow a deep gold.

"Want to be partners?" asked Pipit.

"Uh…sure," muttered Link. He was too disoriented to really make sense of the situation.

Grinning ear to ear, Pipit took the seat next to him and got right down to business. "So, Link…what do you think the code means?"

Link blinked a few times, forcing himself to focus. The chalkboard seemed miles away. "I think…." He blinked again, trying to clear his mind of the clouds of sleep. "I think it means to respect the dead."

"Yeah," said Pipit enthusiastically. Then his mouth twisted as he considered the next part of the code. "But what about 'especially those of the enemy'? Are we supposed to respect the dead enemies as well?"

Link propped his head up on his elbow. "Maybe. But I think 'fallen' doesn't necessarily mean that they're dead."

"What? You think they're injured or something?"

"Maybe," Link said again. Good Goddess, was he tired. "I mean, if your enemy is defenseless and hurt, you're not going to mock or disrespect him…." He yawned. "You're either going to kill him quickly so he doesn't feel it or you leave him alone."

Pipit tilted his head to the side, observing him thoughtfully. "That's very interesting. Hey, you look kind of tired."

"That's what happens when you stay up all night."

"Didn't you do that the night before, too?"

Link considered. "Huh. Yeah, I think so." Actually, it was hard to remember. The past few days had passed in a blur.

Pipit looked concerned. "You need to get some sleep, Link. Otherwise you won't get any stronger. No wonder you've been staggering around in the Sparring Hall like you're drunk…"

That brought him to life a little. "I was not. I didn't miss a single target."

Pipit punched him lightly on the shoulder. "I know. I was just teasing." He hesitated. "Do you want to spend the night at my place? I know that Fledge is right next to your room, and he's always up at night, doing push-ups…I mean, no wonder you haven't been able to sleep."

"Unh," said Link, his eyes closing.

"So how about it? You wanna stay over?"

"Okay, sure," said Link.

"Great." Pipit looked like he meant it. "My mom is going to be out for the night...she's hanging out with some friends at the Lumpy Pumpkin. So we'll have the house to ourselves."

"Aw," sneered Groose, who had been listening in. "You two going on a date?"

Pipit, for some reason, turned beet red. "Shut up, Groose."

Groose started laughing and making kissy faces at them. "Guess I don't have to worry about my Zelda getting stolen away, do I? You two play for a completely different team."

"Shut up!" hissed Pipit, and he might have lunged across the table if Link had not grabbed his arms.

"I must have struck a nerve," said Groose, grinning openly at them. Stritch, who was sitting beside him, guffawed loudly. He sounded like a goose being strangled.

"Just ignore him," said Link under his breath, pulling Pipit back down into his seat. The last thing they needed was to be kicked out of knight school because of a fight.

"Better watch your step, Link," said Groose, still grinning. "Because…well…you never know what could happen if you turn your back. Even for a second. BAM!" He slammed his hand on the desk. Pipit flinched, but Link didn't move a muscle.

"Is that a threat?" he replied evenly.

Groose's stupid smile disappeared. "It's a guarantee."

Thank Goddess that class started up again just then, or perhaps they would have fought, and been expelled. Link couldn't concentrate the rest of the lesson. Partly because he really couldn't keep his eyes open, and partly because he could still feel the blood pounding his head, the hot, rushing desire to punch Groose in the mouth until he didn't have any teeth left.

Many hours after the final glorious bell, Link and Pipit gathered at their designated meeting place.

"You've been in my house before, right?"

Pipit opened the ornamental door of his home, his schoolbag slung over his shoulder. He had a certain brightness to him, like a glow, something that couldn't really be pinpointed or described. A sort of internal happiness and confidence that radiated outward and warmed everyone in vicinity. It shone in his face now, illuminating his small smile.

"Yeah," said Link, stepping inside. "I think so."

The house was cleaner than the last time he had visited; Pipit must have convinced his mother to sweep. It wasn't large, but it wasn't small and pinched and claustrophobic like Link's dorm room. He liked the place immediately.

Pipit shut the door and tossed his schoolbag in a corner. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I think my mother left some pumpkin juice for us."

"I love pumpkin juice."

"Good," said Pipit, removing a large pitcher of dark orange liquid from a cabinet and setting it down on the table. "'Cause we have to drink the whole supply before it goes bad."

Link retrieved a dusty cup from the cupboard and plunked himself down in a chair. "That looks kinda dark for pumpkin juice."

Pipit took a step back, observing the pitcher. "You're right," he said. He looked worried for a second, but then he shrugged and said offhandedly, "But my mother always has her own special touch. She probably added ingredients of her own."

"Am I going to die?"

Pipit laughed. "No, don't worry. She's never accidentally added poison before." He paused. "Okay, well, I wouldn't put it past her."

Link eyed the pitcher doubtfully.

"Here, scaredy cat. Let me test it first." Pipit poured himself a glass, humming cheerfully under his breath.

"I'm not scared," muttered Link. "Just cautious. And sane."

Pipit raised the glass to his lips, hesitated for a fraction of a second, and sipped it. A strange expression crossed his face. Slowly, he sipped it again. And again. His sips turned to swigs, his swigs to gulps, and finally he was guzzling the juice down until it was gone.

"Wow," he said, smacking his lips. "Wow. That was…wow. That was really good."

He quickly poured himself a second helping.

"That good, huh?" asked Link cryptically, raising an eyebrow.

Pipit drained the glass in one gulp and set the cup back on the table, swaying with ecstasy. "Mm! Whatever my mother added, I'm grateful! It's fantastic!"

"Let me try some."

"Be my guest."

Cautiously, Link poured a small amount of pumpkin juice into his cup. He brought it to his lips, paused, and swallowed.

At first, the taste was off. He made a face. It definitely did not taste like pumpkin juice. Then the aftertaste kicked in – and he was soon willingly drinking the rest. It may not taste good at first, but it had a strangely addicting quality that made him crave more and more, to the point where he felt like he needed the juice, like he would perish without it. When he ran out of juice, he started to lick the insides of the glass. Pipit laughed at him.

"I told you so," he said.

The pumpkin juice supply didn't last much longer. They were pouring glasses like crazy, unable to stop themselves. With each glass, the room got a little more blurred around the edges. Pipit started to laugh uncontrollably. Link gripped the edges of his chair, convinced that the world was spinning out of control. They took turns describing how they would kill Groose, the suggestions becoming more and more ridiculous. Link fell out of his chair at one point. It didn't bother him; he just laughed and laughed as though he had never experienced anything funnier in his life. Why was he at Pipit's house? He couldn't remember. Had he gone to school that day? He couldn't remember that either. The room was spinning, spinning…

Finally, gasping with peals of laughter, Pipit admitted, "I think these drinks are alcoholic."

"I know," giggled Link.

Eventually they sobered up a little. Or at least, enough to take a few steps without falling over. They somehow managed to make it to the bed.

"So, do you want to sleep in – hic – my mom's bed?" said Pipit dazedly.

Link shook his head vehemently.

"Why?"

"Your mom will be home soon," he said. "Where is she going to sleep?"

Although he never would have said it out loud (except, perhaps, in this state), the only true reason he didn't want to sleep in the bed was that he didn't want to be separated from Pipit. His friend just looked so soft, so happy, so relaxed for once. He wanted to – touch –

"On the floor," Pipit said. They both started laughing again.

"Well," said Link when they subsided, looking at Pipit's tiny bed, "we could share your bed."

He waited half-fearfully for the accusations, but they never came. Pipit just nodded his head agreeably. "Okay," he said happily. "Guess it doesn't matter."

A wave of weird joy crashed over Link, engulfing him. He wasn't sure why he was so happy to be sharing a bed with his best friend.

Pipit climbed in first, followed by Link. They fitted together as snugly as they could. Like jigsaw pieces, exactly right. Link was seized by a desire to touch Pipit again, anywhere, on the face or the shoulders or the chest, anywhere at all, just to see how soft his skin really was.

"Good night, Link," whispered Pipit. He sounded muffled, but not uncomfortable.

"'Night."

Link's tiredness took over, overriding his irrational joy. Within seconds, he sank into oblivion, his chest rising and falling at the same time as Pipit's; their hearts, for once, in complete synchronization.

When Link awoke, he had a splitting headache. That was the first thing he was aware of.

The second thing was the fact that he was tangled up with Pipit. All he could see was yellow. There was the warmth of another body in nearly all places, softness against his chest and his limbs and his face.

Pleasure surged through him. They were pressed into each other, as though they had fallen asleep in an embrace. He couldn't feel anything that wasn't Pipit.

Then came the horror of realization.

He struggled and kicked his way free, heart pounding. There was one freezing moment where he was suspended in space – and then he hit the ground with a loud thud.

"Oh, Goddess!" he gasped.

In his peripheral vision, he could see Pipit jerk awake.

"Link!" said Pipit hoarsely. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah..." Link groaned from the floor. "Just perfect."

"Did you fall off the bed?"

"No, I got up, lay down on the ground, and screamed out in pain just to bug you."

Pipit helped him to his feet.

"Thanks," said Link, rubbing his wrists, which he had thrown out instinctively when he fell.

"Are you hurt?"

"I'd be more worried about your floor," said Link. "I may have put a hole in it."

"The floor's fine." Pipit stood up, stretched, and plodded over to the kitchen table. "You slept for so long, Link. I would have thought you were in coma."

"What time is it?" asked Link.

"Probably past lunch."

Link's mouth fell open. "I slept for that long? Why didn't you wake me up?"

"I would have," said Pipit defensively, "but you were clutching me so tightly that I couldn't even move!"

Link could feel the blood rise to his face and knew that he had turned bright red. "I – I didn't do that."

"Yes, you did." Pipit pulled down his sleeves; there were red marks that exactly matched the placement of Link's fingers. "You were dead asleep, of course, so it's not your fault, but it looked like you were trying to throttle me. I'm just lucky you didn't go for my neck."

"I'm sorry," whispered Link, mortified. How could he look his friend in the face after this?

Pipit laughed, to his great surprise. "You're fine. I don't hold people responsible for what they do in their sleep." He tilted his head slightly to the side, surveying Link with bright, mischievous eyes. "Besides, it was kind of cute."

Link turned red again. "Don't say that."

"Why?"

"Because you're not – I'm not –" Link sputtered.

"Not what?" asked Pipit, his smile disappearing.

Link opened and closed his mouth soundlessly like a fish, and then collapsed into a chair, resting his throbbing head on the cool tabletop. "Never mind."

"What's wrong, Link?"

"Nothing."

But everything was wrong. He felt humiliation prickle on his skin. He realized it now; while they were drunk on the alcoholic pumpkin juice, he had jumped at the chance to touch Pipit, to lay with him in the bed and get tangled up in him. Was it possible? Did he really like Pipit? At first, his entire being recoiled away from the thought. Like Pipit? Impossible. Strange. Wrong. But yet…he couldn't deny the joy he had felt…at being so close…

"What is it?" Pipit persisted. His hand lightly touched Link's elbow, making his heart flutter hyperactively.

"When you talk like that," whispered Link, "it makes us seem like…." He couldn't seem to make his mouth work right. Finally, he forced his lips to move and wrenched the phrase from his mouth. "Like a couple."

There was a heartbeat of silence, and then Pipit jerked his hand away with a hiss.

"Oh. Ugh. Please, Link," he said disgustedly. "A couple? Why do you have to take something totally innocent and twist it like that?"

"What?" said Link, raising his head and blinking.

"I was just being nice. I don't….ugh. No. I don't like you like that." Pipit shuddered, but something flickered in his eyes – guilt? Regret? Secrecy?

"You're lying," said Link suddenly.

"Just stop already," said Pipit, turning away. "Why would I lie? I like – Karane! I like Karane." This was said with the air of clutching at straws, as if he had pulled the name randomly from his mind.

Link stared at him, unable to speak. He could feel his heart breaking into a million little pieces. Of course. Of course Pipit didn't return his feelings. Of course he liked Karane. Of course.

"You don't…you don't like me, do you?" asked Pipit, rather nervously.

Great, thought Link. He's homophobic, too?

"No," he said, forcing his frozen face to smile. "I like Zelda."

He was so surprised at the name that his composure almost crumbled. Zelda? Why in the good Goddess's name had he said Zelda?

"Oh," said Pipit. He seemed relieved. "Oh, okay."

For some reason, Link felt like Pipit didn't believe him. "We're going out," he blurted, and then cringed at his own stupidity.

Shut up already! his mind screamed at him. Really? 'We're going out'? Now you have to have proof, Link! How much stupider can you get?

"That's cool," said Pipit.

"Yeah," said Link. And he added, as if he didn't already have enough of a mess to clean up, "She knows Karane pretty well. Maybe she can talk about you in front of her. You know, get a good word in."

"That would be great," said Pipit. Maybe it was Link's imagination, but he didn't have the appropriate amount of enthusiasm. "Tell her thanks."

"Oh, yeah," said Link, still forcing himself to smile. "Well. I better go now. I have a date today."

And he hurried out of the house before he could lie anymore, feeling his heart break, splinter and sear in his chest.

The next few days were miserable. Link stuck to his dorm room, afraid that if he left, he would run into Pipit and ruin everything. He hadn't told anyone what happened or what had developed between them, not even Zelda. And what was worse, he couldn't even manage to forget about it. His feelings for Pipit had intensified, grown way out of proportion.

He was constantly thinking about his best friend, longing to touch him again, to hear him talk. It was like having a constant stomachache. He couldn't control himself. He had never before desired a person so badly. Actually, he reflected, he hadn't desired anyone before. While other boys his age talked about their crushes on girls, he had remained quiet, unwilling to admit that there had never been anyone "special" to him. At first, he had shrugged it off.

But now he couldn't ignore it any longer.

Finally, angry and broken, he left the dorm, ignoring the greetings from his classmates as they passed him in the hallway. He strode out of the Knight Academy, ran over the bridge and found Pipit sitting at the edge of the lake, looking solemn.

"I need to talk to you," he panted, sitting down next to Pipit.

Pipit suddenly looked wary. "About what?"

Link took a deep breath. "Look, Pipit, I know you're probably not comfortable about talking about it" – hell, he wasn't comfortable about talking about it – "but you deserve to know."

Pipit met his gaze with confused eyes.

"I like you," said Link recklessly. His face was probably turning all sorts of colors, but he kept his voice steady and his eyes fixed, watching Pipit go slightly pale. "I always have and probably always will. It just took a little bit to figure it out."

When there was no response, he went on, voice shaking a little. "And I'm sorry if that scares you or freaks you out, but it's just the way it is. And it doesn't have to change anything between us. Not if you don't want it to."

There; he had done it. It was all out in the open now.

Pipit stared at him with a weird, restless flickering in his eyes. Then they turned flat, his lip curling in disgust. Before Link could be offended, he heard footsteps behind him and realized what Pipit was looking at.

"Now that's just sickening."

Link felt every hair on his body stand up.

Groose.

Slowly, they turned around.

"I knew I was right about you," said Groose. He was standing slightly apart from them as though afraid of catching a disease, arms crossed, his golden eyes alight with an opportunity to harass them. "Oh, this is just too good! Caught right in the middle of a mushy gay schoolboy love confession!"

Pipit and Link were both looking at him, neither of them saying anything. Link's muscles contracted in his arms. He longed to give Groose what he deserved…but he couldn't…he couldn't…he had to remember the rules of knight school…

"This is perfect," gloated Groose. "So, are you two boyfriends now? Gonna walk around holding hands and sucking face? In public?" He pretended to throw up.

Link took a deep, calming breath. He couldn't break the rules…couldn't break...the rules…

Groose mimed throwing up a few more times, and then laughed. Loudly.

That was it.

Usually Pipit was very well-behaved. He was the kind of person who never got in trouble, who never crossed the line. He was loved by all the teachers and most of the students. He was a model student.

Every trace of that Pipit was gone. He barreled into Groose, knocking him flat on his back, and proceeded to punch and kick and pummel every inch of Groose that was available. Groose howled out in pain.

"Pipit!" said Link, shocked.

They rolled on the ground, flailing and scuffling, neither one gaining the upper hand. Dust churned in the air; birds flew, startled, from their perches. The air was full of screams of pain and shouts of deranged anger. Pipit's hat fell off at some point and disappeared into the bushes. Pipit didn't take any notice. He was still yelling unintelligibly, punching with all of his might, until Link finally decided to intervene. He hooked his arms around Groose's middle, grunting a little (he was a lot heavier than he looked) and dragged him off, throwing him to the side. There was a squeak and a splash; momentum had landed Groose right into the water.

Pipit lay blinking in the sunlight, as though he wasn't quite sure what was going on. When Link touched him on the arm, he wrenched away, rolling into a defensive position. He held that for a few seconds, eyes focusing.

Link froze. "Pipit?"

Pipit slowly straightened up, rubbing his arm.

"Are you okay?" asked Link tenderly, taking a step toward him.

"Ow," muttered Pipit. "Not really." Then his eyes widened and he looked up, amazed. "I just got into a fight, didn't I?"

"Yep," said Link, unsure of how he should react.

A small smile stole over Pipit's face. "Did I win?"

"Considering that Groose was almost bawling by the end of it," Link said, "I would think so." He observed his friend carefully. There was some minor bruising, but it didn't look too bad. Nothing serious, at least.

Pipit's face fell. "I'm going to be expelled, aren't I?"

"Nah," said Link. "He'll keep his mouth shut. You think Groose wants the whole school to know that he got his ass kicked?"

Pipit laughed, and then grimaced.

"Come on," said Link. "Let's go see how badly you're hurt."

A few minutes later, they were in the dark caves behind the waterfalls. The enveloping dimness was oddly soothing, and it seemed the perfect place to make a quick inspection.

"How do you feel?" asked Link in a hushed voice.

"My back stings," said Pipit, making a face. "I rolled over some rocks and they slashed my tunic up. Am I bleeding?"

He swiveled, but Link couldn't see any stains.

"I don't know," he said. "It would help if you took your shirt off." He realized how that sounded, and quickly added, "I also have heart potion. I always carry it around. If you like, I could put it on your wounds."

There was a pause, and then Pipit said quietly, "That would be nice, thank you."

Slowly, he slid his shirt off. Link's breath caught in his throat.

So beautiful…

Focus, Link…

He cleared his throat, trying desperately not to focus on Pipit's bare, glistening skin. Carefully, he unscrewed the lid of his potion bottle, dipped his finger in the solution, and dabbed at the multiple cuts patterning Pipit's back.

Pipit hissed. Link dropped his hand automatically. "What's wrong?"

"It stings."

"I can stop, if you want."

"No, go ahead."

Link continued to dab at the wounds, trying to not to stare at the sculpted outline of Pipit's body. He could feel a strange electricity in the air, but perhaps that was his own tension. Depression washed over him, thick and steady, as he thought back to his earlier confession. Even if Groose hadn't interrupted, he still would have been rejected. Pipit's earlier behavior had clearly shown his dislike of being with anyone of the same sex. Besides, he liked Karane…

"So are you breaking up with Zelda?" asked Pipit suddenly.

Link was startled into momentary silence. Then he remembered the lie he had blurted out at the sleepover. "We were never going out," he admitted quietly. "I just said that so you wouldn't think any differently of me."

Pipit sat up, twisting around to look at him. "You didn't have to do that, Link."

Link shrugged. "Well, you seemed freaked out. So I just made it easier for both of us."

"Sorry," mumbled Pipit.

"It's alright," said Link.

Silence. Link felt his tunic becoming uncomfortably hot. He tugged at his collar, wishing that this awful silence would break, somehow –

"So did you really mean what you said back there?" asked Pipit.

Link looked at him for a very long time. "Every word," he said simply.

"I know you're waiting for me to freak out again," said Pipit, smiling a little. "That's not going to happen. So stop holding your breath."

"I just wish Groose hadn't shown up," said Link.

"Yeah, well," said Pipit helplessly. "Nobody ever wants Groose to show up, but he does anyway. That's part of his charm."

"Like I said before," said Link, who wasn't interested in discussing Groose, "if you're uncomfortable with this, that's okay. I'm not going to change anything. I'm not gonna interfere with any of your future girlfriends, not Karane, not –"

"Whoa, whoa," said Pipit, holding up his hands. "Who ever said Karane was going to be my future girlfriend?"

"You like her," said Link, confused. "And she's obviously smitten with you. So…"

"I lied," said Pipit mischievously, and the words were so exciting that a current of electricity zinged through Link's body. "I don't like Karane."

"You don't like - ?"

But the rest of Link's words were lost as Pipit unexpectedly leaned in and kissed him.

Link went numb with shock. He couldn't process the feel of soft lips against his, the musky scent now intertwining with his own. Then, something inside of his brain seemed to click. They were kissing. This was what he had longed to do since…well…as far as he could remember. It was happening.

The pumpkin juice was nothing compared to this.

Link came to life with a vengeance. He wrapped his arms around Pipit's back, pulling them together, flesh on flesh. Joy and desire and lust rippled through them seamlessly, twisting their bodies in strange ways. When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing hard. And, though Link didn't remember making the conscious decision to move, they were laying sideways on the floor.

Pipit reached out and stroked Link's cheek once. Link shivered.

"This is how it's supposed to be," Pipit murmured. He slipped a hand down Link's shirt, running it along his stomach and stopping just above his waist. Link felt a cold sweat break out over his body. His heartbeat kicked up into a frenzy.

"What made you change your mind?" whispered Link, his eyes closing.

Pipit pressed his nose against Link's neck. "I never changed it." He drew back, concern diluting the happiness in his eyes. "I'm sorry I behaved the way I did at our…slumber party." He chuckled, but the sound was strained. "I just didn't know how to react, so I started lying, and – I'm sorry."

He kissed Link quickly. "Forgive me?"

And then he was everywhere, warm and soft and utterly irresistible, never imposing, never aggressive, never anything but gentle. Link's eyes rolled up in his head. He clutched at Pipit's back, pulling him closer. This, he decided, was heaven. He could have died happy. And he decided, in that moment, that he didn't care if Groose knew – if anyone knew. Let them find out. He would be more than happy to shout it from the rooftops.

"Yeah," he whispered. "I forgive you."

And he may not have thought it possible, but Pipit's inner brightness, his illumination, seemed to grow even brighter than before.