Pale blonde strands mixed with light brown as he ran his fingers through hair that was softer than it looked. Softer than it had any right to be, really, given the way Hunter abused it. Between his racing helmet and the ninja field uniforms, not to mention his apparent aversion to any sort of comb, it was amazing it looked as good as it did. Not that he noticed, of course... it was just that...

Well, the things that seemed important at four o'clock in the morning were very different from the things that seemed important at any other time of the day. If two o'clock was the snacking hour, and three o'clock was the laughing hour, then four had to be the hour of idle reflections. Things that had never seemed worthy of thought before now became sources of inexpressible interest.

"Do you dye your hair?" he asked abruptly, fingers stilling as he considered the possibility.

Hunter's eyes opened, and the look he gave Cam was one of lazy amusement. Not sleepy--strangely, he didn't seem the least bit sleepy despite his recumbent pose and recent quiet--just content, and utterly relaxed. And a relaxed Hunter was something worth appreciating.

"No," he answered. His blue eyes were dark in the dimness, pupils widened to take in as much light as they could. "But I bleach it, sometimes."

Something about his expression made Cam smile a little. "Why?" he wondered aloud.

Hunter didn't so much as shrug, as though it was too much of an effort to disturb his boneless sprawl for such an insignificant question. "Because it looks cool."

Cam let out a breath of amusement. "It does," he agreed solemnly. "No argument here."

One of Hunter's eyebrows twitched, making his expression shift from tolerantly amused to curiously amused. "Was that a compliment?"

Cam shrugged, curling his fingers through Hunter's hair again. "Maybe," he admitted.

Hunter didn't answer, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he closed his eyes again. Cam leaned back against the dresser--really the only thing in his tent solid enough to lean on--and let his fingers continue their idle wanderings through Hunter's hair. He didn't want to close his eyes. It was late, and morning classes would start too soon, but he liked this scene too much to banish it to the other side of his eyelids.

Hunter was lying on the ground, still dressed in the same jeans and bright crimson shirt he'd worn to the movies last night. He had one bare foot propped up against the bottom of Cam's camp chair, with the other leg stretched out across the woven mat that formed the floor of the tent. Hands folded across his stomach, he had his head on Cam's lap, and he seemed no more likely to move from that position than a log would be to suddenly get up and walk away.

Of course, Hunter was a little more comfortable than a log. Most of the time he was a better conversationalist. And he was certainly a lot easier to look at.

"You know," Hunter said out of nowhere. "Valentine's Day is coming up."

Cam thought about that for a moment. "Is it?" he asked at last, as though he hadn't been assaulted by advertising every time he left the Academy grounds.

"Well..." Hunter's eyes were open again, he realized suddenly. He just wasn't looking at Cam. "In a couple of weeks, anyway."

Cam didn't answer. He didn't really know what to say to that, truth be told. It wasn't like it hadn't occurred to him. He and Hunter were, at this point, officially dating. At least to the point where they both admitted they weren't just "hanging out"--that, when kissing was involved, it was an actual date. And they'd agreed not to hide that fact from anyone.

But... Valentine's Day? It was like the adult prom. You didn't celebrate it with someone you *weren't* dating, but on the other hand... celebrating it at all made whoever you were with seem that much more important.

"So?" Hunter prompted, still gazing at the far wall through half-lidded eyes. "You wanna do something?"

"Like what?" Cam found himself asking.

Hunter shifted a little, apparently losing some of his relaxed ease in the face of Cam's reservations. "I dunno. Nothing girly. Just, you know--dinner or something."

"Sure." He told himself sternly to get over it. It was just a holiday. "That sounds good."

Hunter moved again, looking up at him this time. "You got something against Valentine's Day?"

Hunter didn't? "Nothing girly," he'd said. If he could think of a holiday more "girly" than Valentine's, Cam wanted to know what it was.

"No," he said slowly. "It's not... I don't know. I guess it just seems strange."

Hunter didn't say anything for a moment. Finally, though, he asked, "What seems strange? Valentine's Day with a guy, or Valentine's Day with me?"

Cam couldn't help smiling. Yes, Valentine's Day with Hunter was an odd thought. But that wasn't what had made him hesitate. "Neither," he said at last. "Valentine's Day, period. I never--I mean, Dad and I never made a big deal of it. And I've never been seeing anyone this time of year that cared."

He could have worded that better, but Hunter didn't seem to notice. "Is it weird that I care?" he wanted to know.

Cam shook his head wordlessly. It was weird, but not in a bad way. More like a "something he had never expected from Hunter" way. Not that that list wasn't getting longer every day.

"Good." And that was all Hunter said, apparently content to resume his log impression with closed eyes and a quiet sigh.

Cam let his head rest against the dresser for a moment. No one passing by would think the light in his tent was unusual; he often stayed up late to finish work, or got up early to have some time to himself. And past experience had proven that none of the students would question him either way. It was only the teachers that made an effort to socialize, and they only after they had seen his easy, informal interaction with Dustin, Tori, and Shane.

Once upon a time, he had thought that was the way it was supposed to be. The teachers held themselves apart from the students on purpose, in order to instill the proper respect for their discipline. Now he realized that the students held themselves apart--held themselves back--as much as the teachers did, and he couldn't tell which action was the cause and which was the effect.

He wasn't entirely sure it was a good thing, either. Surely the students would benefit if the teachers were more approachable? Couldn't they maintain school-wide respect and discipline without socially isolating the ranks?

Says the head teacher who's making Valentine's Day plans with another head teacher, he thought wryly.

Hunter rolled one shoulder back, and Cam lifted his head as fingers tapped his ankle. "What are you thinking about?" Hunter wanted to know, shifting again to hook his elbow over Cam's knee. His wrist settled against Cam's shin, and his fingers started to trace idle designs on his skin.

And he had just been noticing that his feet were cold, too. It seemed there were more advantages to not wanting to disturb Hunter than he had realized. His toes twitched involuntarily, and Hunter's hand moved across his ankle to the top of his foot. "Ticklish?"

Cam shook his head, mesmerized by the motion of his fingers. "Not really."

"Too bad," Hunter said, the hint of a grin in his voice.

Cam cleared his throat, deciding to answer the question before Hunter got any ideas. "Just... I was just thinking about the separation between students and teachers. I'm not sure it really helps anything."

Hunter's fingers slid under the arch of his foot, stroking absently as he remarked, "Sorry. Too cryptic for me this early in the morning."

Whether he was ticklish or not, that really was distracting. "I don't know," Cam muttered. "I'm not sure what I mean either."

"Let me know," Hunter offered, barely stifling a yawn. "What time is it, anyway?"

Cam disentangled his fingers from Hunter's hair and turned his wrist over. The light was just good enough to make out the display. "Four twenty-three," he said, and it had to be the power of suggestion but he found himself trying to suppress a yawn of his own.

Hunter didn't move, except for the hand on his foot that could easily drive him crazy if he paid too much attention to it. "I should probably go," he said at last.

Cam breathed out, letting his hand settle carefully on Hunter's head again. "You said that an hour ago," he reminded him.

Hunter chuckled softly, shoulders twitching as he settled himself more comfortably against Cam. His fingers didn't stop their idle designs. "I said that five hours ago," he corrected. "I said that back when today was still today."

Cam considered that, wondering if it was the hour. That didn't make any sense. "It is today," he pointed out at last.

"No," Hunter disagreed. "Today is tomorrow until you sleep. We haven't been to bed yet, so yesterday is still today. And I have classes tomorrow."

"Today," Cam said automatically.

Hunter's shoulders twitched again, but despite the smirk on his face he insisted stubbornly, "No. Tomorrow."

"All right," Cam agreed after a moment. "But tomorrow's classes start in less than four hours."

"Two," Hunter said with a sigh. "I'm leading Leane's sunrise meditation for her this morning."

Cam stared at him in surprise. "What did she bribe you with to make you do that?"

"She took my night class yesterday," Hunter said simply.

Cam closed his mouth. They really didn't get any time off. Just to justify the movie last night they had spent an hour beforehand going over lesson plans, and more than an hour afterward comparing notes on ninja re-adjustment and teacher hierarchy. He felt a flash of resentment for the entire Academy system and tried to accept it, to let it wash over him and dissipate on its own. It wasn't anyone's fault.

"Hey." Hunter squeezed his foot gently, commanding his instant attention. "What's the matter?"

He shook his head, trying to relax. "Nothing. Why?"

"I don't know." Hunter was completely still now, fingers warm but unmoving against his skin. "You just seemed... you know, different for a minute."

If Hunter was learning to read his reactions without even looking at him, he was in trouble. "I guess I'm just..." He sighed, aware that he was whining. "I just wish we weren't so busy."

"Yeah, me too." Hunter's immediate agreement was somehow reassuring. "But hey, the job's not always like this. We just got a tough year."

Cam was silent, wondering if that was it. "Maybe," he said at last. "But I can't help thinking you were right. This isn't what I want to do. I don't like it, and the only thing that--well..." He broke off abruptly, trying to change what he had been about to say at the last minute and failing to come up with anything.

"The only thing that what?" Hunter prompted. "It's not all bad, right? I mean, it's hard, but... well."

Cam smiled a little, letting his fingers slide through Hunter's hair again. "Yeah," he said quietly. "Well."

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes. Hunter's thumb resumed its small circles across the top of his foot, and Cam gave up trying to ignore it. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and stopped trying to think. He just felt: Hunter's easy closeness, his relaxed trust, his casual touch. Hunter was very physical. The more Cam got used to it the more he enjoyed it--even, secretly, sought it out.

"I really should go," Hunter said reluctantly. This time he pulled his hand away and took a deep breath, as though preparing to sit up.

Cam opened his eyes, glancing at his watch out of habit. "Would you leave at all if I didn't kick you out?" he wondered.

Hunter tilted his head back. "That depends," he said, an irresistible glint in his eyes. "Are you kicking me out?"

Cam tried not to smile, but he couldn't help it. What would it be like, playing hooky with Hunter? The longer he knew Hunter, the less surprised he was that he didn't know. Hunter liked to feign irresponsibility, but in truth, he was probably the most reliable person Cam knew. He knew what it meant to depend on someone, and he knew what it meant to have someone depending on him. Or, in this case, a lot of someones.

"No," he said, just to see what Hunter would do. "I'm not kicking you out."

"Damn." Hunter's grin was rueful. "And I really wanted to make you the bad guy, too."

He sat up with a sigh, the motion surprisingly fluid for someone who had been lying on his back for the better part of an hour. Cam didn't even pretend he wasn't watching as Hunter stretched, not bothering to avert his eyes when Hunter caught him at it. Hunter turned sharply, bracing his arms on either side of Cam's legs, and leaned in for a kiss.

He tilted his head and closed his eyes, breath deserting him as Hunter's mouth found his. One hand settled tentatively on Hunter's shoulder, sliding toward his neck... longing to touch as casually as Hunter did, but not sure how to start. Hunter's weight rocked back onto his knees and he lifted both hands to Cam's face, holding him in place as Hunter pressed in close.

Cam fought the urge to pull away. The sensation might be overwhelming, but it certainly wasn't unpleasant and he was actually starting to get used to Hunter springing this kind of thing on him. His hand was behind Hunter's head and Hunter's tongue was in his mouth and it felt really good...

Hunter drew back, just far enough to whisper, "I think you'd be good at being bad." Then he was sitting back on his heels, hands falling to his sides as he regarded Cam with a look of rueful respect.

Cam couldn't resist. "One of us has to be," he remarked, deadpan.

A grin spread across Hunter's face, and he pushed himself to his feet. He held out a hand without a word, hauling Cam up after him. He didn't let go when they were both standing, and Cam didn't step away. He found he liked being that close... for once it felt natural, and he didn't think twice about lifting his face to Hunter's. Hunter was already there, as though he had expected nothing less.

This time their kisses were slow, exploratory, and he lost all track of time as they stood there, trading breath between them. It was the last time they would see each other for several days, and there was no guarantee that they would have any time alone the next time they met. He tried to remind himself that it wouldn't be any different if they weren't teaching--that it would, in fact, be worse, because who knew what directions they would have gone in if they hadn't stayed with the ninja academies?

He was in love. Just like that, it hit him, and it was all he could do to keep from pushing Hunter away and trying to regain his equilibrium. It was an incredible thought. He didn't want Hunter to leave. He wanted to see him more often. He was more than vaguely resentful of anything that kept them apart... and he was acting like a kid with his first crush.

He was hopelessly in love with Hunter Bradley.

"Yeah," Hunter whispered, pulling back with a smile. "Really good."

Cam froze for half a second, then gave his head a shake and stared hard at Hunter. Nothing about him had changed. Hunter was still Hunter: abrasive, temperamental, wise-cracking, familiar, warm. He was a good friend, a decent kisser, and he knew his way around Cam's psyche. But he hadn't done anything to make Cam love him.

"See you on Saturday, right?" Hunter was watching him with a certain amount of curiosity, obviously having another "Cam's acting different" moment but choosing to keep it to himself.

"Yeah," Cam said with a sigh. He leaned in for another kiss before he thought, following through without hesitation. His subconscious might be playing tricks on him, but that was no reason to ignore an opportunity. "See you Saturday."

He helped Hunter gather up everything he had brought, stuffing it in his backpack with what looked like a complete lack of organization. It might have been, or it might not, Cam couldn't tell. But when Hunter hesitated just inside the tent flap, he could read that message loud and clear. If they hadn't had a goodbye kiss yet, they had it now--reluctant, bittersweet, and wholly unsatisfying.

Hunter said "good night," Cam countered with "good morning," and he offered a token smirk when Hunter frowned at him. Hunter's expression softened, fingers ghosting across Cam's face. Then he turned abruptly, pushing out into the predawn light, and Cam let the tent flap fall behind him so he wouldn't have to watch him go.

He wasn't really in love with Hunter. He couldn't be. Because if he was, then being in love sucked.

Whining. He was whining again, and he'd promised himself he would stop. He couldn't think about this now. He needed whatever nap time he could get before his first class. He would walk to Ninja Ops, do something mindlessly complicated, and come back before the first students were up for sunrise meditation.

He changed his shirt, so it wouldn't be completely obvious that he was still wearing yesterday's clothes. He pulled on the "killer monkeys" t-shirt he slept in, wrapped a sweatshirt around his shoulders, and turned off the lamp before he stepped outside. It was cooler than he'd expected.

Glancing around in the glow of first light, he decided to blame Hunter. He hugged his sweatshirt closer around his shoulders. He couldn't be expected to know how cold it was when he'd had a very large, very warm, log-like object sprawled across him for--

Hawks didn't typically perch that low at dawn. For one thing, they didn't hunt at dawn. For another, no self-respecting hawk would claim territory inside the residential camp. Prey was scarce and activity too unpredictable to make hunting anything but very, very difficult.

Cam considered the bird dispassionately. It was considering him right back. And, unless he was seriously mistaken, it had an unnaturally good view of his tent.

He turned away, torn between irritation and outright disgust. Was that the first time his dad had used his transmogriphication ability to spy on him? He'd never noticed before. But then, he'd never been looking, either. And somehow he couldn't believe it was just this once.

"Cameron."

Well, what do you know. He was going to admit to it after all. "Yes?" Cam said testily. "Dad?" He stopped where he was, but he didn't bother to turn around.

"I would speak with you, if you have a moment."

Cam considered his options. He could say no, and his father would probably let him put this conversation off. But that wouldn't make having it any easier. He could say yes, and his father would probably start questioning him right here, in the middle of the teacher tents. Neither option was particularly appealing.

"I'm on my way to Ninja Ops," he said with a sigh. "You're welcome to join me."

"Welcome" might be overstating the case, he decided a moment later. Nonetheless, his dad paced thoughtfully--and thankfully silently--beside him the entire way. It wasn't until they had descended into the heart of the complex, passing DNA locks and conventional doors to reach a place where repairs were progressing even more slowly than they were on the surface, that his dad spoke again.

"It was not my intention to observe you without your knowledge," he said at last, regarding Cam with a calm and all-too-familiar look.

Cam kept his expression as neutral as he could. "No, I'm sure that was an accident."

His dad nodded once, as though taking the words at face value. "Hunter has been spending a good deal of time on Wind Academy grounds," he remarked. He managed to make it sound like he was commenting on the weather, but since he must have seen Hunter leaving Cam's tent just a few minutes before, there was nothing idle about it.

"It's his school too, Dad." Cam went over to the power shield next to the mainframe and started booting up the diagnostic systems. If his father wasn't going to come right out and ask, Cam saw no reason to make it easy for him. "He graduated from the Wind Academy with the rest of us."

"One would think that his duties as head teacher of the Thunder Academy would keep him too busy to visit neighboring schools with any frequency," his father observed.

Cam shrugged, watching the lights flicker from red to green one at a time. "He makes time for his friends."

"Is that what you are to Hunter?" his father asked, point blank. "A friend?"

Cam stilled. Staring at the diagnostic in front of him, he realized that it was harder now to disillusion his father than it had been to come to terms with the relationship himself months ago. "We've been more than friends for a long time, Dad," he said quietly.

There was no answer. He didn't turn around, not sure he wanted to know what his dad's expression looked like right now. If making Valentine's Day plans had been an unexpected commitment, then telling his dad just made the whole thing seem that much more permanent.

"Why would you keep something like that a secret?" The tone implied more than just parental disapproval. It implied superiority, as though his father already knew the answer and was leading him toward it because he couldn't find the way on his own.

It was amazing, really. He had lived with his father all these years, and they still didn't know anything about each other. "It's not a secret, Dad. Everyone knew but you."

His father must have been ready for that one. "Perhaps a better question, then, would be why you didn't tell me."

"I didn't tell anyone," Cam said evenly. "I'm not like that. I don't broadcast everything I do." He couldn't help adding, "I thought you knew that."

There was a quiet moment. "You are saying, then, that I should have known what was happening without having to ask?"

"I'm saying Dustin knows." He didn't reach up to touch the silver chain around his neck, but he wanted to. He was very aware of it, as though it declared his loyalty in some secret code for everyone to see. "It hasn't been a secret for months."

That, too, gave his father pause. "How long have you been seeing Hunter?"

Hunter had asked him out the week he and Blake returned to Blue Bay Harbor. "A long time," Cam said evasively.

His father considered that. "I see," he said at last.

It wasn't particularly supportive, but it wasn't exactly a condemnation, either. At this point, Cam figured he'd take what he could get. Pushing away from the mainframe, he turned to face his father's stoic demeanor. "I'm going to try to get some sleep."

His father just nodded, once. "Yes," he agreed impassively. "That would be wise."

He did reach up to touch his necklace as he made his way out of Ninja Ops. It was the most comforting sign he had, and he couldn't help feeling like the world needed to go away. He didn't know what to think. Not about Hunter, not about his dad, and not about his feelings for either one of them right now. His stomach was churning, and he knew none of this was going to go away on its own.

He needed some sleep. He needed sleep half an hour ago, actually. Before Hunter had kissed him like he was the only person in the world. Before his dad had surprised him with a question so obvious it hurt. And before he realized that, whatever he was doing with Hunter, it was going to affect him for a long time.