A little something that took weeks to finish, thanks to no inspiration and a want to have some type of Mytho/Fakir pairing. Anyways, boredom inspired me to finish this one, though I really didn't feel like it. Read? Enjoy? n.n; Nyaa


She had restored the part of his heart that had been configured out of lust, and upon the new feeling, came the most human like emotion of them all - curiosity. Such a vague emotion that could be used to describe everything the young dancer hadn't known. He had known that his feelings towards Rue, Tutu, and Fakir were all different, each one with their own distinct feeling; nameless, as such things went.

"Don't do useless things," Fakir suggestively shoved the younger against the mirror he'd been staring at.

His honey eyes searching for something unknown, something he knew he could find had he pushed hard enough. The boy was regaining his heart, and upon doing so, he kept finding himself stuck in situations he couldn't handle. He couldn't help but wonder about himself, more so, however, he couldn't stop himself from wondering about her.

"Mytho, she is your enemy!" The older shouted.

In fact, she wasn't his enemy at all. She was his savior, the only one whom had honest intentions on resetting the story in which she'd been brought out of a pond to fulfill.

"I want my heart returned to me.." He whispered, making it a point to not have eye contact with the boy barricading him against the mirror. "You do not! Listen to me. You do not want such useless things." Fakir's impatience was running thin, he had grown tired of constantly trying to instill the same values into the boy. Mytho had once listened to him, but ever since she'd been brought back, he'd become defiant.

"Princess Tutu is only going to ruin everything, Mytho! Do not trust her!" Fakir spat, his gaze on the younger had been intense. Mytho took notice his green optics changing, distorting into something the he'd never seen before. There, hidden in the back of Fakir's eyes, was a little something that even Fakir himself hadn't known.

Mytho, however, saw it. "Fakir," he began, "what is this feeling?"

The white haired boy extended an arm upwards, placing it gently on his chest, as if in attempt to crush the heart he had been restoring. Fakir watched with curious intent, scanning the golden eyes of the boy he vowed to project.

"Is this.. what love feels like, Fakir?" Such a simple question gained more reaction than it should have from the raven. Love? It couldn't be. Tutu had failed to give him that piece back. "L-love? It's useless, Mytho! You don't know what you're talking about!" Fakir voiced openly, balling his hands into fists against the mirror he had Mytho pushed against.

"Love isn't something you need to understand!" Adrenaline coursed through his veins, leaving Fakir to tremble against his young captive.

"I understand, Fakir." He nodded slowly, white locks falling listlessly around his face.

The once unemotional child had become emotional, and upon gathering such senses, he became aware that in order to please Fakir he would have to give into him from time to time.

"But, Fakir. I want to know…" Mytho paused, gathering his rapidly growing thoughts, "What it is I feel for you."

Mytho had been aware that the feelings he held for said knight were more than what he felt for the two battling for his heart. There was a stronger connection, something that neither Rue nor Tutu could break. Mytho's golden eyes shot upwards, locking onto Fakir's instantly. Sheer innocence plagued his clouded eyes, causing Fakir to smile faintly.

"You feel something for me, Mytho?" Fakir knew that the boy did, but enjoyed hearing him say so. People admitting their feelings for someone, especially Fakir, hadn't been something the dark haired teen heard a lot. A simple nod gave Fakir the answer, though a part of him desperately wanted Mytho to shake his head. The boy wasn't allowed to have feelings, and Fakir wasn't allowed to get caught up in them! It just wouldn't work!

"I don't know what's going on, Fakir.." A soft sigh emitted from his mouth, green eyes watching the subtle lips part briefly. Fakir knew that he'd felt things for Mytho that one normally shouldn't feel. Things that weren't supposed to be felt for a best friend, another male, let alone the prince with no heart. "This is so new, help me understand." Mytho pleaded, his eyes burning holes into the very soul of Fakir.

Was Mytho just toying with him? Were his words genuine? Did Mytho actually feel a tinge of something for the boy? "Mytho, I don't know how. I told you that such things are useless, that you'll regret them."

"C-can you show me then, Fakir?"

Fakir gulped. "Show you..?" Mytho nodded, his had been excited expression falling blank, resorting back to his normal emotionless demeanor.

'Show him? I don't even know what he wants! How am I supposed to show him anything when I don't know myself?' Fakir was at a loss of words, and through his confusion, he decided against his better judgment to attempt things he'd thought about from the first time they'd come to room together. Granted, Fakir and Mytho had long known each other. But, before they went to school and before his heart was being replaced, Fakir never gave the younger a second thought. He never had to, Mytho was an obedient prince, as he should be.

"Mytho, you might not like it," he removed a hand from the mirror, "you might not like it at all." Mytho tilted his head to the side, worry spanning across his face. "W-what are you g-going to do, Fakir?" The hand lazily met with a pallid cheek, caressing the skin softly. Mytho shivered at the touch, feeling for the first time, a warmth he'd never known.

"Fakir?" The raven stared at Mytho, studying the boy's features, his eyes grazing over every little detail of said dancer's face. Radiant. Mytho, despite being male, was far too pretty. Girls had lined up for Fakir's heart, but he never looked at them the way he had been looking at Mytho. He was frozen, though his thumb still stroked the side of the boy's face.

"F-Fakir…?" he mumbled.

Hesitantly Fakir leaned into the boy, claiming the lips he'd been dreaming of possessing since the arrival of his enemy. His lips conformed to the soft contours of Mytho's, his body snugly pressed against the younger's. Fakir's eyes closed almost instantly, though Mytho stared ahead sullenly. The golden spheres registering the new feeling of warmth pressed against his mouth. Of course, Rue had kissed the young prince countless times, but they'd never felt so unnerving. So alive. So urgent. So needing and wanting.

The raven pushed his tongue into Mytho's mouth, dragging the wet member across his teeth, along the new territory. Mytho's tongue danced curiously against his, meeting shyly with Fakir's apparently skilled tongue. A small groan fought its way from the snow haired ballet dancer, spewing forth into Fakir's mouth. He swallowed it hungrily. Hands traveled up Mytho's side, pulling his night shirt upwards with them.

"M-My.. Tho.." Fakir struggled to say, pulling back from his winnings. The younger's eyes were alight, something unknown to the older. "Fakir, I think.. I liked that.." Mytho's ragged breathing became calm.

"Can we t-try again?"

Fakir nodded effortlessly, crushing the boy's body against the mirror with an almost glass shattering strength.

Don't you hate when you start something and it sounds all amazing, but the more you write it.. the more you're like, "eh.. this is kind of shitty"? oh well, R&R plx? n.n; or don't, it's cool either way. - gives candies - no flaming! ;3