Title: Guessing Dressing Games.
Author: Nemesi.
Fandom: Rockman EXE. (MMBN/MMNTW)
Genre: Humor. Fluff.
Word Count: 920.
Characters/Pairing: Well, Rockman is infatuated with Blues. And everyone knows it, really. Even Netto.
Rating: PG-13.
Disclaimer: Rockman, its characters, places and themes belong to Capcom, Shogakukan, Keiji Inafune, ShoPro, TV Tokio, etc. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warnings: Unbetaed. Implied shounen-ai. Rockman wearing a not-that-manly Halloween costume. XD;;
A/N: Totally unrelated to my "Infecten" and "Stages" universe. In this, Blues and Rockman are still "just friends", though obviously smitten.
Summary: Net-saviours are having a Halloween party. Problem: Netto chose Rockman's costume personally, and Rockman's so embarrassed he's gone AWOL on them…

* * * * *

There was a flash of red light, a whizzing sound, and Blues pixelated inside Rockman's PET.

Scanning the area for any convenient hiding spot, he caught glimpse of a black pointy hat bobbing about behind a digital box, and moved resolutely towards it. At the sound of his steps, the hat froze, turned about in panic for a moment or two, then ducked behind the box at light-speed.

Reaching the box, Blues leaned casually against it, arms crossed, and looked nonchalantly into the distance.

"I was sent to collect you," he informed.

The hat twitched, turning minimally towards Blues.

"I'm not coming out!"

"You are late for the Net-Saviours party. Hikari-Hakase already asked for you. Twice."

"I'm not going in there dressed like this!"

"Whatever costume you're wearing, it can't be that bad."

"It's not." Pause. "It's worse!"

"Well, it can't be worse than my costume." Dryly.

"It can."

"Oh, really?"

"Netto chose it!" As though that explained everything.

"What's so wrong with it?" Rockman mumbled something, and then clammed up in a stubborn silence, refusing to elaborate. One could all but see the sulking vibes coming from him.

Blues waited a suitable amount of time, then voiced a tentative: "I wear tights." Implying: 'whatever you're wearing, it can't be worse than this.'

Evidently, it could.

"Which is any worse than our usual spandex suits how?" And Blues could picture the pout accompanying those words. He smirked.

"These are velvet tights. I'll have you know they are a snug fit."

Rockman thought: "how snug?", but asked: "You're an Elf?" instead.

"I do have the boots, but no."

"Uh… a rock-star?"

"Not with this silk shirt, no."

"You're a Prince?" Dreamily voiced, though Blues didn't notice, or chose not to. He shrugged, glancing back at the hat from the corner of his eye.

"Well, I do have a cape," he informed dutifully, and Rockman mulled accordingly, interest piqued.

"Err… a druid?"

"With pointy canines?"

"Oh!" Enlightenment. "You are vampire, aren't you?"

"One wearing lipstick."

Rockman fought hard to suppress a giggle.

And lost.

Rather than being insulted, Blues smiled, a soft kind of smile, almost tender. After all, why should he keep the cold and collected façade up, when no one was watching?

"Lipstick?" queried Rockman. "For real?"

"Evidently," with the dry tone, but still smiling, amused despite himself. "Enzan-sama thinks vampires must have dead-white cheeks and blood-red lips. Lucky for me I was programmed pale, or he'd have me powder my face."

The hat behind the box performed a little polka dance as Rockman expelled another giggle.

"Oh, woe me! Blues the Prince of Darkness is at my connection port! How can poor lil' me ever hope to see another dawn?"

"See? A change of outfit, and I'm turned into laughing stock." Blues, to an invisible audience.

"Nah." Giggle, giggle, giggle. "I think you suit the part of the Vampire."

"Come out and see for yourself?"

Silkily. Inviting. A spider beckoning the bug to its net, really.

There was a rustle, as though Rockman was shifting his weight about, considering the offer.

"…no." After a long pause. "I don't care how bad you think your costume is." Rockman hoped his blush wasn't as evident in his tone as it seemed to be. "…mine is worse!"

Blues heaved a sigh. This time, his tone was reluctant for real, a little disgruntled, and a whole deal disgusted besides.

"I had to remove my visor."

His words had barely escaped his mouth, that something vaguely Rockman-shaped, donning trailing black rags and an over-sized pointed hat, barrelled out from behind the digital box with a cry of: "…I can see your eyes?!" and collided with Blues's chest.

On reflex, Blues wrapped his arms about Rockman, pinning him to himself, ending up nose-to-nose with him when, also on reflex, Rockman jerked his head up, blushing fiercely.

Blues smirked at his armful of Halloween-decked Rockman, and Rockman suddenly felt lightheaded. Gods. He knew Blues was beautiful, underneath that visor; but this

As Rockman proceeded to enter infatuated-daze mode, Blues trailed his eyes down his outfit – godsgodsgods what beautiful EYES!, Rockman thought giddily. Whyever does he hide them?! – moving them from the witchy hat to the bare shoulders and throat, where two little dot marks had been painted in red; taking in the lace bodice and trailing sleeves, the rags falling like petals of a downturned flower about his hips, and the tight shorts underneath; gliding over the expanse of creamy white, naked thighs, to reach the dark stockings and pointy boots.


They painted a bleeding bite on the side his neck…?

There was a long, long moment of silence, in which Blues processed the data he'd gathered, and Rockman gaped adoringly at every inch of exposed skin on Blues's face, committing it to memory. Then Blues's smooth face broke into a slow smile, lips drawing back to reveal the flash of pointy fangs, white as pearl.

"…well, well, well. What a bewitching little prey I have stumbled upon on this dark eve."

The dangerous, purring tone was enough to snap Rockman out of his Blues-induced daze. However, as unsettling – exciting – as it was, it could nothing to force him away from Blues's chest. If anything, Rockman burrowed closer, hiding, heart skipping several beats in a row.

"P-Prey?" he stammered.

"Well," Blues murmured, breath hot and moist against Rockman's cheek, as he reached down to brush the mark on the side of Rockman's throat with the tip of his fingers. "…I think you suit the part."


…and the rest is up to your imagination. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!