Disclaimer: It's probably a good thing that I don't own any of the Clamp characters – the Clamp ladies do a lovely job on their own.

A/N: So…here's another story I'm working on. I'll update the other one soon, but school has been pretty crazy this week. Hopefully some writing will get down over the weekend.

Impotency

Chapter 1: Threat

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to help me?!" The lanky boy glared daggers over his shoulder. A pair of golden eyes stared disinterestedly back

"My hands are full." The other boy rumbled in a low voice, looking down at the half-eaten bento he was carrying, and surreptitiously withdrawing a piece of leftover inari sushi. He lifted it to his lips languidly, watching the mouth of the boy in front of him open and close wordlessly in silent indignation.

"Besides, carrying those textbooks home was your idea, if I remember correctly. The test isn't until Thursday, you know." Watanuki Kimihiro straightened up to his full height (an impressive 5'7) so that his nose was directly level with the golden-eyed boy's chin.

"At least I actually study! Would it kill you to pick up a book once and a while, you illiterate jerk?!" Said books remained clutched in Watanuki's arms, feeling slightly embarrassed at all the negative attention they were receiving.

"Fine!" he huffed when he received no response. "But don't go feeling all guilty when I trip and get a concussion."

"Alright." was the reply.

"…"

It had rained the night before, and the narrow streets were full of cloudy puddles. They had gone barely a few feet when Watanuki tripped and fell flat on his face, the books flying out of his hands. He rose slowly, dripping and furious.

"DOUMEKI!!! YOU ASSHOLE!! IF YOU HAD TAKEN THE BOOKS LIKE I HAD ASKED…" Watanuki's screaming was muffled only slightly by the finger Doumeki had inserted into his ear. The severely irritated boy collected his muddy books and did his best to clean himself off, yelling all the while.

Doumeki continued walking, while Watanuki followed, barely pausing in his tirade to take a breath. Several minutes went by. When he suddenly fell silent, Doumeki breathed out a small sigh of relief, withdrawing the finger. It was only until he saw the expression on the other boy's face that he realized something was wrong.

Watanuki's face had turned white, and his eyes had grown impossibly large. It was an expression Doumeki had seen many times in the past, and he knew what it meant. Closing his right eye confirmed his suspicions – suspended directly in front of them was a gigantic cloud.

It was the color of spilled engine oil, full of blacks and yellows and swirls of blue. Doumeki thought he could pick out images and faces in the undulating mass. It was almost mesmerizing. The greasy cloud grew until it blocked the road completely, and began to extend tendrils of darkness towards Watanuki, who emitted a small whimper and took a shaky step back. Doumeki was puzzled. Normally his presence managed to scare off the spirits that haunted Watanuki, but this particular spirit didn't seem frightened by him in the least. Oh well, he'd just have to take care of it. He pulled out the bow he always carried with him and, focusing his energy into an invisible arrow, fired at the gurgling mass.

Seconds passed.

"WHAT'S WRONG??" Watanuki screamed. "SHOOT IT ALREADY!"

"I did."

"WELL OBVIOUSLY YOU DIDN'T, SEEING AS HOW IT'S STILL THERE!" Watanuki was starting to hyperventilate. Running away and screaming was beginning to sound like a really good idea.

The spirit, realizing that the bigger boy, though scary looking, was no longer a threat, began once again to ooze towards Watanuki, who was currently paralyzed with fear.

"Shit." Doumeki muttered. He raised his bow again, and focused, a bead of sweat appearing on his forehead. His fingers released, but still, nothing happened. The spirit wrapped its tendrils around Watanuki's right leg, and before either boy had a chance to retaliate, pulled the seer back onto the muddy ground.

"DOUMEKI!" Watanuki screamed, floundering on the wet pavement. "DO SOMETHING, IDIOT!" So Doumeki did the only thing he could think of – he grabbed the fallen Watanuki by the waist and took off for the temple, leaving the spirit behind.

By the time the two boys reached the temple, it had begun to rain. The usually tireless Doumeki was breathing heavily, and the limp Watanuki flung over his shoulder had long ago ceased struggling. He hadn't stopped complaining, though.

"What the fuck WAS that? Why couldn't you shoot it?! That thing was going to eat me!" He wouldn't have admitted it aloud, but Doumeki's tense silence and refusal to let him down scared Watanuki. At this point, he was doing everything in his power to get some kind of reaction from the stoic archer. The usual tactics weren't working.

"…eat my bentos, flirt with MY HIMAWARI CHAN, and are a general pain in the ass. What's the point of keeping an excorcist like you around if you can't even kill spirits!?" Watanuki knew he was being insensitive, but the archer's silence was growing increasingly irritating. Not to mention, the way Doumeki had his hands wrapped around the boy's waist was embarrassing, and the unnatural feeling of his pelvis grinding against the archer's broad shoulders was making a healthy blush rise to the seer's cheeks. And speaking of cheeks…

"Get your ass OUT OF MY FACE!" Doumeki remained silent, but slipped his hands an inch higher on the boy's thighs. It might have been accidental. Please let it have been accidental... Watanuki fell quiet.

After several minutes of walking (or in Watanuki's case, being carried), they finally reached the temple. Sliding the door open, Doumeki kicked off his shoes and trod wetly into the house, Watanuki still dangling unresistingly off of his shoulder.

"Tadaima." He muttered, and proceeded directly to his room, dumping his cargo unceremoniously onto a futon. Silently, he pulled two dry sets of clothes from a chest of drawers and tossed one to Watanuki, keeping the other for himself. He left before the other boy could say a word.

When he made it to the empty living room, he slid into one of the deep couches, heedless of the wet state he was in, put his head in his hands, and allowed himself to shake.

Poor Doumeki...

I realize that there are some kinks and OOCness, and I will work on polishing those up in the near future :)

Reviews please!