Yay! I finally wrote MikoSaru!

Happy Birthday to precious Red King baby! *^.^*

And this story might or might not be fluffy. Depends on how you all view it? I was thinking what could start a MikoSaru and this popped in in my head so...

"Impulse"

"Congratulations King!" Mikoto stood at the doorway, blinking rather stupidly at all the people smiling at him, covered in red and white streamers and confetti. He stared from one face to another before his golden eyes lazily dragged themselves to the large handmade banner in the background: HAPPY BIRTHDAY MIKOTO!

Oh right.

That explained why Anna was holding...was that supposed to be his birthday cake?

Why was it bleeding?

Oh no, wait, that was strawberry sauce.

Or so he hoped but then again you never know with Totsuka - it could actually be blood.

Speaking of which-

"Happy birthday King!" The blonde sang, producing a gift from thin air, with a flick of his wrist, earning an applause all around. The hobby of week had been magic. "Here is the gift me and Anna specially picked out for you. I hope you like it."

"Mikoto will like it." the strain girl said solemnly, her face devoid of all emotions, ruby eyes fixed on him. Mikoto stared at the present and wondered what were the chances of it being a red jacket. Pretty high actually seeing as this was Anna and Totsuka.

He accepted it with a shrug and glanced around at his other clansmen all who were grinning and laughing with each other, enjoying the small party. Apart from Anna and Totsuka, there was Kusanagi, polishing glasses behind the bar, Chitose, Dewa, Bandou, Kamamoto, and Fujishima. A small party but a party nonetheless.

Ah - he had wanted to sleep. Honestly, Mikoto had just com back from a street fight - not that anyone knew - and had wanted to sleep his day away. He had forgotten that it was his birthday. Eyeing the pile of presents, he smirked - well it couldn't be all that bad to accept all that.

"Thanks." he grunted, pulling out a cigarette, ignoring the disapproving looks Kusanagi was throwing in his direction. As various members approached him and offered their greetings and presents, Mikoto suddenly realized it was too quiet - well quiet for the bar's normal standards.

Where was Yata and his gloomy side kick?

As if on cue, the door swung open and Yata Misaki walked in, cheerfully grinning, looking like heaven had blessed him that morning, which was in total contrast of the sullen looking teen following him, looking as if hell had personally delivered him to their doorstep.

Fushimi Saruhiko looked as if he wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the door and never return.

He always looked like that.

And he always came back.

For Yata.

A strange stab of annoyance pierced his chest as Mikoto bristled, eyes narrowing at the teens who had begun bickering upon setting foot in the bar.

It was odd.

Mikoto knew that having feelings for his clansman was wrong. But it was hard not to feel protective of the pasty kid with his baggy clothes and snappy attitude. And there were times when Fushimi was almost cute - almost. Liked he looked right now, pouting sulkily as he took his place in the corner seat of the bar, immediately detaching himself from Misaki's hip where he was usually glued.

Mikoto almost caved and went and dragged him back into the middle of the room.

But that would have been too much of a hassle.

"Happy birthday Mikoto-san!" the over energetic skater announced, boumding over to where he was, holding out a colorful box, "Here, it's from me and Fushimi." A distinctive click of tongue followed by a small mumble made him look over in the direction of the youngest member of the clan aside from Anna and raised his eyebrow when Fushimi didn't even look at him, choosing to focus his attention on his PDA.

Ouch - that kind of stung.

After he had cut the cake - it had actually bled strawberry syrup and he had felt creepy but Anna had helped make it so he had no choice but to eat it – and everyone had hastily sung the cheesy song led by Yata, he began unwrapping the presents - mostly because Totsuka wanted to record his reactions with his camcorder; he was generally impressed by his clan's thoughtful presents.

Except -

"Oi Dewa, why'd you give me this with the gloves?" He held up a multi colored cube and a small strangled noise made him turn sharply in his seat - only to be greeted with thin air. Fushimi had seemingly slipped away from his spot, unnoticed, using all the commotion as a cover to make his way out of the bar. Dewa opened his mouth to respond but Mikoto didn't hear him - opting instead to get up and wave his hand to everyone that he was going out for a quick smoke.

Stepping outside, he pulled out his pack of his daily dose of nicotine and put one of the sticks in his mouth. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he started walking in the direction of an old abandoned warehouse he usually spent time alone, napping or training. Except, as he was passing by a random alley a block away from HOMRA, he saw a small glow appear from something that was obstructed from his view because of a large trashcan. Curious, he dragged himself towards the source only to find -

"Fushimi." the low rumble caused the teen to jump, almost dropping his PDA, shooting a look of annoyance at his King.

His King.

Except - Mikoto never felt like Fushimi's king. Fushimi was too terrified of him – yes he had noticed the way he flinched every time he came within his close vicinity, they way he would keep shooting him worried glances full with apprehension as if he was a time ticking bomb with his timer about to go off at any moment.

Such as now.

The dark haired boy scrambled to his feet and in a flash, had discreetly tried to put some distance between them. Mikoto chose not to comment on it though and opted to just stand there smoking silently. Fushimi made no move to start a conversation but he didn't leave either, looking a bit guilty – probably because he was caught skipping out on his King's birthday. They both stood there in silence, Mikoto slowly taking a drag of his cigarette.

"What's Mikoto-san doing here?" Fushimi finally mumbled out, looking at something past his shoulder, "Shouldn't you be in the bar celebrating?" Mikoto shrugged. He had no reasons to explain himself to the brat. Fushimi must have guessed that by the look on his face because then he scoffed and turned his head away, muttering something that sounded oddly like "Useless person."

He didn't mind though. Munakata called him that on a daily basis.

Motioning with his arm, he suggested they both sit down and he had a nagging thought that Fushimi only did so because he had asked him to and not because he would have on his own. He still sat sort of beside him although he had put a lot of space between them.

"Mikoto-san probably needed a smoke." Ah - the kid was smart. "Also why are you carrying a Rubik cube?" Mikoto blinked before taking another long drag, puffing out toxic air.

"Izzat what it's called?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair, suddenly all too aware that he was carrying Dewa's present. "Dunno what it's for." Fushimi snorted and Mikoto had a a sinking suspicion it was meant to be a mocking one - like "Of course you don't know, you brute." And that sounded a bit too like Munakata. He was suddenly surprised when Fushimi held out a hand.

Wordlessly, he placed the cube in the boy's open palms and for the briefest moment Fushimi's hand had hesitated before closing around the item and withdrawing his arm. Suddenly, those fingers were moving at lightning speed.

Mikoto's eyes widened as his clansmen rotated the sides, the cube all but flying in those deft fingers. It felt as if the cube was simply spinning in his hands and soon the boy had all six sides completed, the cube innocently sitting clutched between his hands. Mikoto raised an eyebrow.

"Tha' was pretty cool kid." he muttered. Fushimi froze. It was for a moment - just a small moment and Mikoto would have missed it entirely had he not been concentrating on those hands - they were trembling. But it lasted only for seconds and soon the boy was pushing the Rubik back into his hands, getting up abruptly.

"No it wasn't." His tone was flat, "It was pretty normal for someone with a brain." Mikoto smirked, letting the insult slide under the table. Mikoto raised his hand to wave him back down and Fushimi threw him another glare before he sat down, arms folding in a huff.

He was almost pouting.

God, Mikoto was probably going to do something he was severely going to regret later. over at Fushimi made him think about how ill suited the boy was for the red clan. Slim, silent and practical – not at all suited for the clan full of boisterous impulsive youths. But still he stayed – for Yata.

His mouth suddenly felt bitter.

He knew it was technically not even right for him to feel that way because Yata and Fushimi had a bond that no one would be able to come in between – not even a King like himself. (A/N: I'm laughing LMAO)

But that didn't mean he couldn't try.

"S'was awesome." He insisted and for a moment, blue eyes widened and the pale skin flushed and Mikoto felt very pleased with himself. Well at least he did for a while -

"That's stupid." Fushimi hissed, snatching the Rubik cube, "It's just a stupid game and guess what?" Then in front of Mikoto's eyes, the cube fell apart, tiny pieces scattering on the ground in front of him, "It breaks real easy." Mikoto watched as the small pieces fell to the floor and a sudden thought crossed his mind.

He smirked.

"Oi Fushimi...that was my birthday gift." Whatever ice had been in the other's eyes vanished and was replaced with a guilty look with a bit of – fear?

"Sorry," he mumbled out, looking really remorseful, "I just-"

Mikoto didn't give him a chance to finish his response. Quick as a cat, he grabbed the boy's face and pressed his lips against he other's soft ones harshly. Gentle wasn't his style. The kiss was rough and brash – noisy and wet.

Saruhiko squeaked and Mikoto used that opportunity to deepen the kiss. At one point, Saruhiko had regained control of his thought process and roughly pushed him away, jumping to his feet.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He hissed, his eyes ablaze and for the first time, Mikoto appreciated seeing that look in someone's eyes – because it meant the fear was gone. Mikoto grinned.

"What? I was just taking compensation., let's call it even."

"Big word from you. And don't pull that bullshit on me!" Saruhiko still looked like an injured cat – cornered and agitated. The redhead shrugged.

"K' felt like it." He muttered taking out another cigarette, flicking his hand to light it. Saruhiko discreetly muttered "show off" under his breath but Mikoto heard him nonetheless and smirked, golden eyes lighting up.

Saruhiko glared at him before drawing himself upright and walking past where he sat, crouched in the shadows. Mikoto chuckled to himself darkly.

Well, he had blown that possibility out of-

"At least ask me out before forcing a kiss on me." Mikoto's head snapped up to face the opening of the alleyway but the figure had already disappeared. A slow smirk found its way on his lips.

Things were getting interesting.

/(*.*)\\ come scream MikoSaru with me on Twitter Hibisha

or on tumblr: lordsatanismycat

And I haven't completely proofread it so if you see any spelling or grammatical errors, don't feel bad about pointing them out.