Fleeting
October 2010

Disclaimer: I do not own the Winx Club.

Warning: If you have not realised yet, this is slash/yaoi (a relationship of the same sex). In this case, it's between Riven and Helia.

He watched without meaning to. He caught himself doing it repeatedly. He could not help it, because he was so curiously delightful to look at.

Riven and Helia entered the barrack. It was quiet and the corridor lights were off, save for the emergency ones. It was the time of night when most people should be sleeping, but Riven was sure that there were a couple of people still up in the school. Riven walked behind Helia and he could not help but look at the slender man's long unbound hair. Riven could not help the fact that he liked how smooth and shiny Helia's looks like, or how it tempted him to rake his fingers through it and maybe pull it gently.

Helia's hair reminded Riven so much about a certain fairy's hair, about its length and colour. However, Helia was so much more interesting than Musa. He did not know how; Helia just was. The man was like a walking temptation.

Helia stopped suddenly and Riven almost walked into him. The redhead cursed his inattention as he watched the artist fiddle with the door lock to their dorm with delicate fingers. Finally, he gave up.

"The door is jammed again. We should get security."

"Let me pick it, then," Riven says.

"You have your kit?"

"What kind of question is that?" Riven said snidely. After all, he was the experienced thief of the group and it was just handy in general to have it.

"Of course."

Helia let Riven at the lock. Riven succeeded and went in first. He dropped his things on the couch and went to the kitchen. A midnight craving for potato chips was bothering him.

Helia followed him and started to boil water for tea. Riven leaned against the counter, eating from a bag of chips.

"Why do you keep your hair long?" Riven asked.

"I like it long."

Riven paused to interpret the answer. The answer intrigued him deeply. Something fluttered in stomach. Then he fired another question. "Are you gay?"

"Is this the night to ask me all sorts of questions, Riven?"

Riven mentally cursed his brashness. "Well, you don't have to answer—"

"I'll answer as long as you return the favour. An eye for an eye."

"Fine, then what do you want to know?"

"Why are you asking me this question?"

The kettle whistled and Helia unplugged it. He pulled a mug out of the cabinet and poured hot water into it.

"I'm just curious, seeing as I still don't know anything about you." Riven watched Helia scrounge around the kitchen. The artist had his back to him.

"And you would like to get to know me?" Helia continued

"It helps."

"On missions, right? Of course it does," Helia said. "How does knowing if I am gay help you, Riven?"

Riven had no response.

Helia turned to him, spooning tisane into the mug. Riven watched Helia stir the spoon in the cup intently. "Are you interested?" Helia said finally.

Riven froze momentarily. Was he?

Helia approached him and looked at him in the eyes. Riven thought he was angry.

"Look, I'm sorry if I hit a chord—"

"It's not that. You question without censor. You're daring, you think differently than I do. I think that it's interesting."

Riven waited for him to elaborate.

"I think it is a good that you question. By not censoring yourself, you put yourself on the path to find the absolute truth in all things. If you doubt, you make it known that you doubt. You question until you find the truth."

"What does this have to do with anything?" Riven said.

"I want to know why you care. I would like the truth."

Slightly annoyed and not meaning it, Riven answered, "I don't know."

"You don't know, or are you afraid to give it a name?"

Riven hesitated. What was he feeling for this man? Was it…lust? And what would happen if he named it? Would he betray himself?

"Are you curious?" Helia asked.

Riven exhaled. "Yes," he said lowly to himself. He wondered if he had really said it. He was sure that Helia did not hear him.

The redhead turned around abruptly to put away the bag of chips and wash his hands in the sink. He did not want to see the other man's reaction. He was not totally sure what the other man's feelings were. It was totally possible that he did not feel the way Riven thought he did. After all, he was assuming. However, the vague statements that Helia made wherever he went made one think that he had dabbled here and there.

Helia was Headmaster Saladin's grandson. Despite once being a Red Fountain dropout, he had been the best in his year. Now that he had come back, he was quickly resetting the school's standards for excellence academically and physically, becoming a model student again. Riven's unit was the top unit of the school and Helia was keeping up to their pace. It seemed that Saladin had expected his grandson to just jump back into the race as if Helia's one-year hiatus in art school had done nothing to diminish his skills as a specialist. And it did not.

What was he feeling for the other man? Fear? Awe? Riven hesitated to give it a name.

Helia was good-looking in his own right. He had a genteel air about him. He was more like a fashion model that one saw in clothing catalogues. He was not too buff or too thin, even feminine with his pronounced eyelashes. Why did he notice that about him…?

Riven headed for the kitchen exit. He was in too deep and needed a good night's sleep to clear his head. His attraction for the other man, now openly known, was scaring him.

"Hey, Riven." Helia planted himself in front of the kitchen exit. Damn it. Did he hear him say "Yes"?

"What?" Riven was suffocating from the unspoken tension. He tried to look into the other specialist's eyes, telling him to get out of his way.

Helia whipped his hair out of his eyes and he stared back intently.

Riven gulped. That feminine gesture to get his hair out of his face mesmerised the redhead. Musa would never do something like that, he thought. She was too tomboyish and would be caught dead before she would ever do something like that. Then Riven caught himself appreciating the volume of Helia's hair, how it could have rivalled Stella's.

Riven closed his eyes and took a deep breathe. "Look, it's late and I'm tired—"

Helia kissed him.

It was not passionate or even anything. He just chastely put his lips on the redhead's.

Helia backed off a centimetre. "You talk too much at the most inappropriate times."

Riven was frozen, unsure of what he meant.

"You should read one of those hormone fodders for females. A romance novel, Riven."

Since Helia did not see Riven recoil in revulsion or push him away, he leaned forward for a longer but chaste kiss. Riven's breathe hitched in his throat as he felt Helia administer another treatment to his lips. The artist pressed softly.

The knots that he had not known existed in his stomach faded away as Helia continued. Helia was not backing away, so it must have meant something. Somewhere deep inside of him, there was a hope and a sort of curiosity mingling together that he had been trying to suppress for a while ever since Helia showed up. Unconsciously, Riven placed a hand on the other man's hip and pushed him against the edge of a counter.

Helia draped his arms around Riven's neck and nibbled on his lower lip. The artist pressed softly and moaned when he felt Riven tangle his fingers in his hair. The kiss seemed to go on forever, but then Helia pulled back. His voice was rough but serious.

"Where do you want to take this, Riven?"

Riven had never imagined too deeply what would ever happen if he hooked up with Helia, because it had always been an impossibility in his mind, but now…?

Many questions came to mind, but the most pressing was what did he want now? A passion that was coursing through his veins made him short of breathe and gave him a difficult time to think.

"We should…sleep," Riven said finally after a long thought. He did not like the answer, but they needed it. He wanted to explore a little more.

"Of course," Helia agreed regaining some sense of clarity of time. Did Riven hear some disappointment in his tone? He was sure that he was imagining it.

A few minutes after a tense "Good night," Riven had changed out of his uniform and curled under his blankets, somewhat relieved and somewhat disappointed. How was going to face Helia tomorrow? Did this mean he was gay now?

A product of foulest characters in society, he did not have benefit of parents who could tell him what was absolutely right and wrong. He knew the general view of things, but it did not mean he believed in it totally. He was confused, and that was not a good thing. He hated confusion.

Riven flexed his hand. He liked how Helia's hair felt. It was soft and silky as he had imagined.

He heard the water run through the pipes in the wall. Helia was probably taking a shower. Riven refused to let his thoughts even go there. He turned over in bed and closed his eyes. He busied himself with the thoughts of school and homework.

He could figure out his feelings the next day.