A/N: Just a little Fushimi/Yata drabble. This is set whenever they were in High School.

Please read and enjoi!

Disclaimer: I don't own K.



Yata glanced over his shoulder, coming face to face with a small carton of milk. He scowled at the beverage presented to him before rolling his hazel hues skyward, towards the towering form of his best friend. "What the hell is this, Saruhiko? You said that you were getting juice!"

"I did." The raven haired teen lifted up his other hand, displaying a slightly larger carton of apple juice.

"Well, give me that! I hate milk!" Yata made a move to swipe at the juice carton, only to come back empty handed.

Saruhiko was shaking his head slightly whenever shorter male looked up once more. "The milk is for you, Misaki. You're short."

"What the hell does that have to do with anything you monkey-bastard?!" The incensed brunette exclaimed, jumping to his feet with his fists clenched at his sides. He couldn't believe that Fushimi would dare to bring up such a sensitive topic!

"I thought that I was being pretty clear, Misaki." Fushimi's lips twitched at the end, longing to pull up into a smirk. "You still have areas that could use a little growing."

The shorter male growled low in his throat, leaping towards his friend with his hands held in tight fists. He was ready to pound those glasses into the smug prick's face! "You'll have to force me to drink that shit, you damn monkey!"

Yata tackled the slender male to the ground, grunting in surprise whenever their positions were reversed before he could recover. He felt a couple of hands snagging his wrists above his head, preventing him from lashing out. He snarled, struggling under the taller male's lanky limbs to free himself, but to no avail. He wasn't going anywhere.

Hazel hues flicked up, widening ever so slightly at the warm blue irises that stared down at him with an intensity that he's never experienced before. Yata shifted uncomfortably at that look in his best friend's eyes. "Okay, you win, Saruhiko… You can let me go now…" His voice sounded uneasy, even to his own ears.

"Now, now. You said that you'd need to be forced to drink this milk, ne? Why don't I help you out? After all, what are friends for?" Shifting his hands so that both of the smaller teen's wrists were clasped in one hand, the raven haired male reached out and grasped the carton of milk that sat innocently a couple of feet away from them.

"I guess you'll have to let me go if you intend on forcing me to drink that." Yata said, keeping the relief out of his voice as best as he could.

Cerulean orbs filled with amusement slid back to him. "I don't think so, Misaki~." Fushimi made sure to keep eye contact as he opened the carton with one hand, lifting it to his lips as slowly as possible so that he would have the pleasure of seeing each and every emotion that flitted through the rambunctious teen's eyes. He didn't put it to his lips until the lovely hues lit up with understanding and surprise. Once the cool liquid settled into his mouth, he tossed the carton aside and quickly lowered his head, giving Yata no time to recover enough to struggle.

The sudden feeling of his friend's soft, thin lips against his own caused the brunette to gasp, unintentionally giving Fushimi entry into his cavernous mouth. A dark flush took over the spunky male's face; his best friend was kissing him! The moment of shock wore off as the disgusting liquid filled his mouth, quickly followed by a persuading tongue. To keep himself from choking, he quickly swallowed, leaving his mouth free for the foreign tongue to raid all possible contours of the orifice. Yata took it all in stride, half tempted to bite down on the "offending" muscle, half tempted to push back in response. Before he could make a decision between the two, Fushimi was pulling back, leaving the shorter male feeling strangely bereft. There was a long moment of silence, and Yata sure as hell wasn't going to say anything—.

"So, Misaki, did you enjoy your milk?" Fushimi sat back, smirking down at Yata's prone form on the concrete.

—Unless Saruhiko started off with shit like that! Ignoring the blush that only seemed to be getting darker as time went on, the shorter male rubbed a tanned hand through his unruly chestnut hair and quickly sat up, immediately turning away from his best friend. "Like hell I did, you monkey-bastard."

"Too bad. A little milk wouldn't hurt you every once in a while."

Yata climbed to his feet, careful to keep his face averted from his best friend's. He cleared his throat lightly. "Just so you know, Saru… If I have to drink milk, I prefer strawberry." To ensure that his face wouldn't blow up from all of the blood rushing to it, the shorter male made a hasty retreat, missing the pleased expression on the taller male's face.

"Well then…" Fushimi plucked the empty carton off of the ground, raising it to take a swig, his tongue shooting out to catch stray drops that had slipped past his lips. "Strawberry it is… Misaki-chan."


A/N: Thanx for reading!

This was my first K fanfiction, so please let me know how I did