Another day, another lecture about the finances. Ansem the Wise stood at the head of the table in their meetingroom, pointing to some statistics on a chart and rambling on. Of course, as the finances were just fine, and the apprentices had heard this a million times, give or take a few hundred, no one was paying attention. Most of them were fanning themselves or opening windows, anything to ward off the oppressive summer heat. Ienzo, on the other hand, paid no attention to a mere weather condition. He was busy moving his chair as close to Xehanort's as it would go.

"Xehanort..." he whispered, his lips pressed to Xehanort's ear, "I'm bored... How shall I entertain myself, hmm?"

Xehanort shivered, despite the sweltering heat. "Ahh... I-I dunno... You could memorize Ansem's speech..."

"I already know it backwards and forwards." Ienzo placed his hand on Xehanort's thigh and stroked softly. "You're blushing... Let's see if I can make you blush more..."

Before Xehanort could mendaciously assure Ienzo that his pink-tinged cheeks were a result of the heat, Ienzo moved over and straddled the older boy, leaning flat against him and pinning him between himself and the chair. His hand moved to tangle in Xehanort's hair, and the other wrapped low around his hips, pulling him even closer. Before he could protest, Ienzo caught him in a deep kiss that made the unbearable summer heat seem like the coldest of winter days in comparison. Xehanort moaned softly, gripping Ienzo's shoulders like he never wanted him to stop. Much as he tried not to blush, he felt his cheeks burning, or maybe that was just from the kiss.

"Ahem!" Ansem was less than pleased about his apprentices lack of focus, especially the situation on Xehanort's very crowded chair.

"Dude, Ienzo, molest your Xehanort somewhere where we can't see it," Braig called lazily.

Ienzo slipped back onto his own chair, keeping one arm around Xehanort's waist. "Gladly."