A/N: Ugh. I really like GaLe, but... :U) Hnnnng~

I own nothing.


"Don't say a word," Rogue whispered gruffly, a hand slipping over Gazille's mouth, pulling him into the shadows of the alley. Gazille had sensed him around the corner anyway, but didn't take particular pleasure in having someone else calling the shots. He went to bite the hand, but it retreated to pull at his jacket lapels and pull him down to his potential assailants lips.

"What do you want with me," he growled, unmoved by the kiss and wiping saliva onto his sleeve. Rogue was still, at this point, fairly unfazed by his apparent indifference, but gripped his clothes harder and narrowed his red eyes.

"For years I looked up to you, wondering if I would ever be able to over take you. Today, I intended to, and achieved my goal. You didn't disappoint me, Gazille…"

"Then why the hell are you here," the taller one asked dangerously, taking Rogue's front and gripping it before shoving him away. "I have things to do…"

"You lost because you're softer than the man I watched for," Rogue spat, Gazille pausing in his spin back to the sunnier road and turning over his shoulder.

"I don't really give a shit what you think of me, kid, but you're starting to piss me off. Get lost."

"Come to Sabertooth."

The blunt invitation hung between them, but only one had more hanging on this than he was letting on. Rogue gritted his teeth and his red eyes turned to slits when Gazille smirked, snorted and started walking away again.

"Don't say stupid shit. I'm already at the place I want to be."

"But you're not with me," Rogue said a bit more loudly than he meant. He couldn't help it. Through the dark curtain of his hair, still wild from recent battle, he watched Gazille scorn him like he was a child. Like he was the one that had won their fight. But stuff like this…Rogue couldn't care less. He wasn't here simply to play around.

"Who the hell wants to be with you, brat," Gazille snarled, shrugging and scratching at his studded nose. "I already fought you. I'll fight you sometime again if you want, but you're annoying right now."

Rogue cried out angrily, shoving Gazille into the stone of one of the walls. With the speed he'd built everyday trying to catch up to this man, he pinned him with both arms so they were face to face, Gazille still not particularly keen on going berserk and getting the rest of the guild in trouble. He'd already lost. The last thing he needed was more shame to add to the pile.

"Join Sabertooth. Leave Fairy Tail behind." This was more of a personal plead to someone important instead of a desperate call for recognition from an idol. Gazille blinked the lazy blink of a man that couldn't be bothered by what other men wanted.

"Fuck off."

"I can play that game too," Rogue said fiercely, shoving tongue first into a rough kiss that painted a picture of just how obsessed he'd become. He panted, waiting for the other man to show signs of letting up, smiling in wicked relief when he felt his jaw relax a little.

Without letting go of his wrists, Rogue moved to put a rough bite on Gazille's neck, a wordless declaration of ownership. Gazille didn't say anything, but grunted in discomfort. It was enough; he'd submitted enough for Rogue to consider this a win.

You are the only one I care about…

"The hell," Gazille muttered, staring up at the clouded sky and listening as the cheers brought around by the next battle from the arena came to his ears. Rogue brought a hand down over the top of his head and guided him back to his face, licking the stud under his lip. His other hand dared to fondle at the space between his pants and his hip.

"You understand now," Rogue decided, pushing himself away and meeting the other man's red eyes. Gazille shrugged and shook his head slightly.

"Not really. Chumps like you are pretty terrible at communicating, huh."

Rogue smiled wryly and moved to leave the alley first. He called back over his shoulder, "If you won't join the guild, I figured I should mark you with the next best thing." And with that, he disappeared around the corner.

Creepy little shit…

Gazille rubbed his neck, teeth marks still throbbing their presence into his fingers. He cringed, wondering if he was supposed to be looking forward to more of this.

Or worse, if he kind of was regardless of whether he was supposed to or not.