A/N: This is the prequel to my story "Bloody Kisses"; you don't have to read this for that story to make sense, and you don't have to read that story after it. It's self-sustaining, really.

Actually, the idea of Doumeki being mistaken for a robber is an idea I've had brewing for a long time… I want to make a Donuts story about it…I kinda feel like the theme here has been over-used… Cliché, maybe… But, anyway, I wrote this to "Fragrance" by Gackt, and "Bomb" by Switchfoot. In fact, I'm writing another Donuts one-shot to that song… It may never be put up though, because I'm sorta stuck…. It's an irrelevant detail, really, but…: shrugs: I just like the songs.

And I'm sorry if you're disappointed with the ending, I just didn't feel like writing a lemon, which was where it was headed in my mind… Sorry! I kinda feel like I copped out... And I hope I got the times right...

It was actually a very pretty day that day. It was the middle of summer; the temperature hovered just above warm and a little below 'fry-an-egg-on-the-sidewalk', and the humidity was just enough that the air was not dry. It was a very pleasurable summer day—that much normal people could agree on.

Except for the lithe young adult that sped through alleyways, running like all hell was on his tail. For in fact, it was.

Kimihiro Watanuki looked once more over his shoulder and groaned breathlessly. The huge, many armed, demon was still behind him, slithering its way along in the air, it's long, pale, taloned fingers reaching out towards the boy.

"AUGH, DAMMIT!"

Knowing that the spirit would eventually catch up to him, the bespectacled teen put on an extra burst of speed anyway, clutching the bento he held in his arms tightly.

Suddenly, Watanuki found himself flying through the air, and he braced himself for the wrenching pain of being eaten.

Instead, he met hot asphalt and the food he carried skid away from his arms and all over the concrete. Ignoring the blood that was trickling down his face from the impact, he covered his head with his trembling hands and waited for the impending doom that was surely, surely to befall of him.

And for the second time in five minutes, the haunted teen found himself to be safe. Slowly, Watanuki raised his eyes, and a string of explicit swears left his mouth as he regarded the state of the bento.

"All ruined, that's what I get for leaving the house during Obon, and—damn, that can't be saved either— me and my stupid self, and those stupid spirits, and that stupid fight… augh, that too?!" The teen rambled on and on to himself, quite aware of how stupid he looked. He was still babbling a few minutes later, trying very hard not to look behind him to see why the spirit left. He knew why… Actually it was more like who, and that certain who was why he didn't want to look around.

"Oi. Shut up."

Watanuki winced, and sheepishly turned, the remains of the food in his hands. The pale boy bit his lip, staring up. He then looked quickly back down at the contents of the box in hand and winced. "… Don't be so rude. I have a name, you know," he mumbled.

Doumeki gave a slight snort. "You're lucky that I looked outside when I did. It was about to eat you," he said, nonchalant as ever. "Why did you come outside today? Even Yuuko said that coming out on the last day of Obon would be stupid."

"I… uh…" Watanuki stood, once more looking down at the bento. "Well, actually, I was coming… to see you…"

The smaller teen looked up at Doumeki's face, finally, frowning softly.

Doumeki stared back, searching Watanuki's face.

"Well, come in, then," the archer finally sighed, wondering just how long he'd be able to keep his anger in check. He turned and motioned for Watanuki to follow him.

Watanuki scanned the ground once more for anything salvageable from the spilled bento, finding nothing; he sighed and followed his friend, wondering why he had gotten himself in this predicament at all.

(Earlier that Day)

Watanuki gave a frazzled sigh, dumping a bowl of cold, sticky rice into a pan. "It's hot, and I'm making fried rice, deal with it," he snapped at Doumeki, who was currently lounging in the only chair in the kitchen.

Doumeki gave a sort of half-shrug, signifying that he really actually cared less.

The bespectacled teen snorted, "Wow, you're not giving insane orders—are you sick?" he jibed, completely put out with the heat, his confinement (normally, Obon was okay, nice spirits and all, but this year was infested with all sorts of horrible things), and the fact that Doumeki had let himself in… Via the window, while Watanuki was showering, so the spirit-plagued teen thought he was being robbed.

"You're obviously in a bad mood, so I thought I'd let it rest," the archer stated, raising an eyebrow at Watanuki.

Seething, Watanuki spun around to Doumeki. "Since when did you care?! You're just as bad as Yuuko-san!"

Eyebrow raising a little higher, the exorcist decided to pursue this. In no way had he ever really thought he and the Dimension Witch were similar. "How so?"

"Working me like a slave, giving insane orders, just popping out of nowhere and making my life miserable, refusing to go away, god it just annoys me! And never a word of thanks! Everyday you sit and eat the food I make, and you never say thank you at all!"

The rice popped and began to burn behind Watanuki as the boy chattered on and on about how Doumeki pissed him off, setting light to a small temper inside of the larger boy.

Doumeki slowly stood, glaring dangerously at Watanuki. He walked up to the teenager, reached around him and turned off the stove.

"Popping out of nowhere? I've saved your life numerous times, Watanuki," the archer said lowly, leaning close to Watanuki. He pressed an almost-gentle kiss to the boy's lips, then pulled away, stepping back.

"And you've never said thank you to me." With those parting words, Doumeki left, exiting through the door for once.

Watanuki, however, spluttered in place.

Finally, putting it all down to the heat alone, he finished making his lunch. He ate standing, sadly and warily eyeing the portion he had made for his friend.

"Well, I'm glad he didn't stay to eat it anyway," Watanuki mumbled sullenly—he had added too much soy sauce and the rice was burned at the bottom.

Later, as he sat watching some American crime show with a bad dub, he finally let the events of the afternoon play out in his head. Realizing suddenly that Doumeki was right, he stood.

For the next hour or so, Watanuki was in the kitchen trying to remember every exact thing that Doumeki had ever asked for in his lunch, and all the things that the archer liked.

And even against the orders he had from Yuuko to stay indoors, Watanuki decided to go visit Doumeki.

Watanuki sat uncomfortably on the floor of Doumeki's room. Presently, Doumeki wasn't here; he was off getting bandages for Watanuki's face and hands.

For a moment, the teen thought of leaving. He even got as far as to stand, but as he did so, Doumeki came back into the room.

"Here," he said, holding out the bandages.

Watanuki took them hesitantly, and then politely shook his head. "I'm fine," he mumbled. "I'm not bleeding anymore."

Doumeki gave an internal sigh, sitting down on his floor, motioning for the smaller teen to follow suit.

The bespectacled boy gave a nervous shuffle, his eyes shifting around the room. After a moment's hesitation, he sat.

"Why did you come here?"

Watanuki mumbled something, reaching out for the bento box next to him.

The archer raised an eyebrow, not being able to hear Watanuki.

The haunted teen looked sheepishly up. "… To bring you the bento," he mumbled rather childishly.

"… Idiot," Doumeki growled.

"I am not! I wanted to give it to you! As a thank-you! And an apology! Who's the idiot now?!" Watanuki leaned forward and held out the half-empty bento-box, waving it around as he came to his own defense.

Doumeki wordlessly took the box, peering at the ruined contents. "…This doesn't look edible at all."

Watanuki flushed in embarrassment. "… I dropped it when I fell…"

"Oh…" Doumeki picked a ruined piece of sushi up and bit into it.

"OHMIGOD! THAT'S BEEN ON THE GROUND!" Watanuki shrieked, waving his arms. "YOU HEATHEN, SPIT THAT OUT! NOW, YOU BARBARIC FOOL!"

The Buddhist teen gave a soft chuckle. "Back to normal, huh?"

"Well…" Watanuki fidgeted again, this time, fiddling with his fingers. "About… that… kiss thing…"

Again, the archer sighed in his mind. He had hoped that Watanuki would leave that be. "Don't mind it. Lost my temper," he grunted.

Watanuki flushed, leaning forward onto his knees. "But… I… I liked it," he whispered, as if confiding a secret. In truth, he was. This was something he barely even told himself before today, but it was time to say it, "...And I like you."

The pale teen fell back into formal position, sitting lightly on his ankles. He looked down and to the left, shyly blushing.

That certainly hadn't been the response that Doumeki had expected, but it would do. He reached out and pulled Watanuki forward, who, lacking grace all together, fell onto his 'friend'.

The two fell quickly into a kiss, the heat outside saying nothing of the heat that they had created between themselves.