Author's Notes: You know the drill. AU, Ray x Kai; got it? Don't like, don't read. Inspired by 'Rank and File', by 'That Firefly Chick'. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: Don't own Beyblade, never have, never will (unless I win the lottery!)

For Richard Harris: poor guy. Rest in Peace.



"Tis' better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all." -: Shakespeare


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The Folly Named Ardour

By Flick-chan

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My blood runs cold as I sip the three day old milk. He's still staring at me.

It's been like this ever since they gave us a house together. After we won the American Tournament, they wanted to keep us intact; we were worth too much in sponsorship to them to let us split.

And so, we're prisoners in our own home.

My eyes connect with his claret pools, struggling to catch a glimpse of what lies behind the veils of mystery.

Kai's always been quiet; but then, as the saying goes, 'never trust the quiet ones'.

"Ray!"

Max's voice breaks my chain of thought.

"Tyson, Kenny and I are off out for a bit, yeah? Be back in a while."

The front door slides shut. I put down the glass, white stains framing my lips. Guess I'm not invited.

Now, it's just me and him.

And he's still staring at me, eyes undressing me as though I belong to him. Sure, he acts oblivious, but I know he's thinking about me. Thinking about stripping me. Thinking about me naked.

The same way I'm thinking about him.

What's the point in hiding my admiration? I'm never going to get out of this world. The life that I live now is mine forever....ignorance and anonymity, mine for the taking. Some people would kill for this.

I would kill to get out of it.

"Ray."

He's moving. I look up out of the corner of my eye. He's coming closer, I can see the lust beneath the flecks of coffee.

"You have something, there." His index fingertip brushes the side of my bottom lip. I shudder, and blink, waiting for him to wipe it off. But he doesn't. His hand remains there, tingling the sensitive ends of my rim. Eventually, I pull away, locking gaze with him.

"I'm sorry if you didn't like that." His reply is so innocent, so pure. Too innocent, and too pure. I know he doesn't mean it; so why is he lying?

"Don't be," I say, evenly. Time to take this into my own hands. Bending forward, I slip the pinky finger along my inside gum, and nip at it lightly. He gives a small gasp. "What's wrong?" I mumble, struggling to keep a hold on him without having my hands enter. "I thought that's what you wanted?"

Stoic faced, he frees his skin from my grasp. Lightly, he touches his lips to my own, removing them seconds later. "No," he shakes his head. "That's what I wanted."

How can he do this to me? He started the game; he can't end it like that. I get up from the table, and stand next to the sofa. If this doesn't tempt him, nothing will. Fire still reeling from my lips from the shock of his kiss, I smile, and wait.

Sure enough, he strides over to me, an unmistakable hunger dawning on his impassive cheek bones. "Why are you doing this?" he growls, pressing his body against mine.

"I'm doing nothing." My weak protest sounds pathetic in comparison to his obvious wants. "You started this. You finish it." I'm silenced as he forces me onto the cushions, my weight sinking into the soft niche in the couch. I lie back, and watch.

All I can see is him, eyes boring into mine, hot arousing breath floating across my open neck shirt. I want him. He wants me.

"I - "

The sentence is over, I don't get to finish. His lips crush against mine, force so strong that I can barely breath. Before I know it, a long, wet tongue invades my sanctuary, teasing my gums, coaxing my own into submission. After a few seconds, it becomes a survival of the fittest, my tries to secure domination failing miserably. He's just too strong for me.

Falling back, I breath though my nose, his front fangs sinking perilously into my bottom lip, sucking the life from my pores. I feel ready to pass out, whatever he's doing is having a really strange effect.

His tongue paints across the lower skin, warming it. Contrast appears, cold air blown against the burning brink. My hands seem to have woven their way to the top buttons of his shirt. I pull them away, and wrench myself back, gasping for air.

He pants too, glancing me up and down as I break the lip lock. Then he does something which I've never seen him do. He smiles.

So there you go. I've experienced something which is uncommon among us. And now I know what the ultimate fear is. I've tangled with the madness that threatens to consume us all.

He's mine now.

Owari.