Ren winced as his lean body impacted against the wall. Although padded to provide sound insulation in the practice room, they were still quite firm on his bony structure. And as walls always do, it provided no escape route from the person stalking toward him right now.

Yellow eyes, so similar to Kaho's, yet a curling hunger lay within it. Every step echoed purposefully toward him, and unconsciously Ren pressed against the wall. Like a predator going in for the kill, he mused as Ryoutarou Tsuchiura effectively trapped him with his arms. Masculine power rolled off the soccer mid-fielder, and it almost made the violinist giddy with sensory overload. Of course, he was no weakling. He would not let the other know what power he wielded over him. He couldn't.

"This will not work, Tsuchiura." The fellow year two student stated coolly as he met those dangerously glittering honey glazed eyes with his canary yellow ones. "I am with Kahoko now. You cannot break us apart."

"You seem so sure of yourself." Tsuchiura half sneered.

"I am." He countered easily.

"Then may I ask, Mr. Cool Pompous Bastard," the pianist grabbed Ren's chin and made him draw his gaze to those pools of glorious honey, "why do you look at me with these eyes until I can feel a hole in my back? Why do you always stand on the opposite side of the room from me, yet fidget as if you'd rather be next to me?" Their faces were so close that each could feel the other's breath against their lips. "Why does your lips part like a blooming flower every time I approach you?"

A small gasp escaped the violinist at the realization, but Tsuchiura did not give him a change to rectify that because he suddenly crashed his lips onto Ren's. The helpless music student was trapped between sinewy arms, defenseless against the onslaught of the other's skillful mouth which applied such delicious suction that Ren felt soft all over. Sagging against the wall, letting those arms encircle him protectively instead of entrapping him, Ren was completely overwhelmed by the intensity of Tsuchiura's emotions.

His first kiss to a guy, and it had to be Tsuchiura.

The kiss ended as abruptly as it had started; Tsuchiura tore his lips from Ren's roughly, cursing under his breath as his long strides took him out of the practice room like a whirlwind. The door rebounded from the wall with a loud bang, echoing in his wake, leaving Ren there with his palms out where he had intended to push Tsuchiura away. Or pull him closer.

The music student clutched the front of his shirt as he slid weakly onto the floor, his knees jelly-like and his heart pounding madly in his ears. His lips felt oddly bruised, and tingled with every breath he dragged from his lungs. Staring blankly at the red carpeting of the room, Ren tried to collect his wits about him. But Tsuchiura's words replayed in his mind like a broken recorder, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to block it out.

Why does his kiss make me feel like this? Why does he make me feel like this? This makes no sense. Ryoutarou Tsuchiura, class 2A, mainstream student, soccer mid-fielder, Concur pianist.

Tall, dark, and handsome.

No, he is not at all desirable in any way. Ren desperately shook his head in a futile attempt to erase that thought. Frantically he searched for a distraction from the path he was dangerously treading. Kahoko... Yes, I have Kahoko. He consoled himself with such thoughts until his breathing evened and he felt more composed, and quietly fled the scene of the crime.


Tsuchiura ran laps until the fire in his lungs threatened to burn him from inside out, and he gradually slowed to a stroll toward the coolers, where the cool water did nothing to extinguish the raw infernal raging desire coiling in his lower body. The feel of those petal soft lips crushed under his own made his blood sing in ecstasy; he gave an exasperated sigh and dunked his head under the tap.

Why did I have to go and do that? He chided himself, retrieving his towel to dry himself off. Where did all that self-discipline run off to? He's probably run half the world away from me by now.

His moody gaze came to focus on a wreath of flowers pinned to his bag – the corsage from the concur finals. All the participants had one, sponsored by Sensei, sort of as a farewell present. Tsuchiura remember helping Ren wear his, inhaling the infusion of the subtle scent of cologne and the music student's distinctive fragrance. Ren had been stoic, but the closeness had unsettled him. Since then, their behaviour around each other changed, although in what way Tsuchiura could not say. Longer direct eye contact, yet avoiding physical contact. Subtle niceties, less insults.

Since when did I start noticing such things? It's not like I'm wished for it to happen.

The pianist raised a wistful gaze to the building that housed the practice rooms, absently wetting his lower lip with his tongue. Earlier, when Ren had been gaping like a goldfish, his expression so totally innocent, Tsuchiura could not resist his carnal urges. Wanting to feel him in his arms, clinging to him, fitting together. Wanting to hear his voice crying for more, moaning his name. Wanting to make him his.

Well, he did fulfill objective one. But it only served to drive his passion into objective two and three, which could be potentially dangerous. And when their lips met, it was almost like an explosion of marshmellows went off in his mouth. This, of course, gave him all the more reason to make clear his feelings to Ren.

Now I just have to figure out how.