Author's Note: More of a drabble sequel to "Except". Not one of my best works, that's for sure, but I'm bored. No flames, please. Don't like slash, don't read. And don't you dare write a critique. I'm not blind to my own mistakes, thank you very much.

Interest

Whose idea had it been to hold this stupid study session? Natsu glared at Shirahama's little sister, Honoka. The girl was casually dusting his vases as usual (he knew it was only a matter of time before something broke again), but every once in a while she'd catch him staring and she'd grin slyly.

What're you up to, brat? He shifted his gaze to the Shinpaku fools who were crowded around his cedar wood coffee table, books cracked open, pencils in mouths or behind ears, eyes blatantly ignoring the small print pages.

They were all laughing at something, not even bothering to study for the upcoming chemistry test, listening to tales of some of the ex-Ragnarok members. Am I the only one taking this seriously? Natsu wondered, focusing on the periodic table. Of course. He was probably the most focused and serious of the group, though the alien was an exception sometimes.

After a few moments of staring blankly at the table and hardly listening to the merry conversation, he sighed quietly, feeling very frustrated in fact, and glared at the figure at the other far end of the table. He wasn't truly able to focus with him sitting there. In fact, he was feeling just the slightest bit panicked. It had been more than a month since the "Incident" as he so liked to call it, and he'd been avoiding Shirahama as much as possible. It wouldn't be good for the boy to be spreading rumors if Natsu tried to talk to him.

He could already hear their mocking voices calling him a fag and a queer. Even more disturbing was the image that Honoka would stop coming to visit. It had taken him quite a while to convince himself that he would indefinitely miss her, but once he had he was gripped with the tiniest pang of fear. This was the first time he had seen Shirahama, so he wasn't looking forward to any sort of confrontation the boy would give him.

He cautiously peeked over the edge of his text book, and then buried his face in the book quickly.

Shirahama was staring at him!

The brunet's eyes were intense and now that Natsu knew they were trained on him it felt as though they were burning holes through the book. Gotta get away, he thought desperately. He shut the book with a snap and stood abruptly. Kisara turned to look at him and asked, "What's up, Hermit? Goin' somewhere?"

"None of your business," Natsu snapped. Then he realized how guarded he must have sounded, so he added, "If it's all the same to you, I'm going to study in my room away from you noisy idiots. I can hardly concentrate." At least he was telling the partial truth. "If you all fail the test, don't come complaining to me."

He went upstairs, highly aware of Shirahama's eyes boring into his back. Stop staring, dammit! He raced the rest of the way up and slammed his bedroom door behind him. He was losing it, he just knew it. But what was he supposed to do? He'd taken an interest in the boy and the one moment he let his stupid affections show, this was what happened. Now he was acting like a coward, hiding from Shirahama, as though admitting defeat.

There was a soft knock on his door.

"What?" he grumbled.

It opened and the bane of his existence walked in. Natsu glared at the boy with all the spite he possessed and asked scathingly, "What do you want?"

"I have a problem I need help on," Shirahama said, his tone light. He shut the door behind him and smiled disarmingly. "I don't think the others could help me, so I figured I'd ask you."

Natsu studied him for a moment, wondering if there was a trick involved, but he came up with nothing so he shrugged and replied, "Sure, whatever."

He should have realized that Shirahama had no text book, but the thought came too late. He found himself quickly pinned to the bed, a strong hand gripping his throat. He struggled angrily beneath the weight of the smaller boy, but he didn't really want to move. Close contact between them didn't occur to often anymore. He'd might as well take advantage of the other's warmth, seeing as this was going to probably be the last time he'd ever get close to him. This is what I get for taking an interest in another person.

"Here's my question," Shirahama snarled, putting his face close to Natsu's. "One of my closest friends kisses me and runs, then decides to ignore me for a whole month. What the hell is wrong with him?"

"Who said we were friends?" Natsu spat back.

A look of hurt crossed Kenichi's face (Natsu panicked as he realized that somehow in the span of five seconds his rival had suddenly become Kenichi to him, not Shirahama), but it was quickly replaced by an equal amount of anger. "Oh, my bad, you're right. Apparently you wanted to be more than friends at the time!"

Natsu stopped all movement and stared wide-eyed at the boy, unsure as to how he should respond to the statement. Was it all over? Of course the ruse was up, he thought. It couldn't have been more obvious! Natsu wearily closed his eyes. Biting back his pride, he said lowly, "I shouldn't have done it, I admit. I allowed my…" he swallowed awkwardly on the word and nearly choked when he said it, "…feelings…to get out of hand. It will never happen again, that I can swear to." Damn right I'll never do something so stupid again.

He felt the hand slowly release his throat, but the weight didn't lift from his body. Instead, he felt a fiery warmth spread through his body as a soft pair of lips cover his own. Eyes flew open and he punched Kenichi in the jaw; the other flew off him and landed hard on the floor, rubbing his mouth.

"Dammit, what the hell was that for?" Natsu shouted, more confused than angry.

"You tell me," Kenichi retorted, wincing as he sat up. "I thought you wanted that."

Natsu sucked in a shaky breath and bit his lip. This was what the great warrior Hermit was reduced to? Some pathetic boy with a crush on another boy? But that's what I would have thought if he didn't return these feelings.

Clearing his throat, he asked steadily, "Why'd you do that?"

The other had the decency to look embarrassed at least. "It's just that," he said, scratching his head, "you're one of my best friends. I know you don't see me as one, but that's how I view you. And I'm not sure how my view of you changed, but somewhere along the line I just wanted to get closer to you." He made a disgusted face. "I sound like a girl. Ridiculous. But it's the truth. And apparently I thought that you shared my thoughts last month, but since then you haven't been talking to me and I thought that you'd come to your senses.

"I guess I shouldn't have done that, so I'm sorry, okay? But can we still be friends? I'd hate to lose this bond we've developed. I'll keep my feelings under wraps and I won't mention anything to the others." Kenichi shook his head and laughed softly. "How could I be so stupid?"

Natsu's mind was reeling. He took a dizzying step forward and sank to his knees in front of Kenichi. The brunet looked up at him and gave a sheepish smile. This certainly goes in my favor, Natsu thought smugly, finally collecting his thoughts. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to Kenichi's.

The other boy all but threw himself into Natsu's arms and parted his lips. This was much better than he'd expected, Natsu decided. He groaned as the hot mouth left his and nipped at his neck. Oh, yes. Much better.

"Kenichi?"

Both stiffened and looked at the closed door at the sound of Niijima's voice. Stupid alien! Natsu curled his legs under him, ready to spring and blind the fool if he walked in and saw them. Kenichi held him back and replied, "Y-yeah?"

"Are you okay? We heard some noise and wondered if you two were fighting. You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm fine," Kenichi huffed. "Yes, I said something that upset Natsu-chan and there was a small scuffle. Nothing serious. He does it all the time anyway."

"I suppose." There was hesitation in Niijima's voice, but he sounded satisfied with the answer. "Anyway, Tanimoto, don't go messing up my prized fighter! We still need him if we're gonna defeat Yami and Yomi. Got it?"

"I don't take orders from you," Natsu sneered, gripping Kenichi's waist.

He heard the alien sigh and leave. He then glared at the boy by his side. "Call me that again and I'll maim you."

His threat didn't sound very believable when he gave a high-pitched moan as Kenichi bit his earlobe. "Whatever you say," the shorter fighter replied, hands sliding up the other's shirt.

It occurred to Natsu that despite the angel-like façade, Kenichi was perhaps less innocent than he looked. He was proven correct as the hands inched down the waistband of his pants. He dropped his face into the crook of the other's neck and shuddered in pleasure at the amazing sensation when the hands went lower. What wicked things this guy could do with them.

Perhaps it wasn't that bad that he took an interest in him.

-.-

Honoka rolled her eyes as Niijima came back down the stairs. It was so obvious to her as to what those two were doing, but the others here were apparently blind. Idiots, she thought wryly. She grinned in spite of their foolishness. At least Pretty Boy had gotten his priorities sorted out.

She flicked the feather duster harder than she intended at one of the vases and the porcelain container toppled to the floor and shattered. She winced as seconds later a flushed Kenichi came out of the room, followed closely by a breathless Natsu, who saw the damage she'd done and said warningly, "Brat…"

She shrugged, stuck out her tongue, and dashed into the kitchen. Oh yeah. So obvious to see what those two were doing.