Hello! SO...if you're wondering from my other fic 'WHAT THE F'ING HELL HAPPENED TO THE UPDATE?'
I have no excuse, only that my poor mind keeps changing the plotline so atm it is pending, but anyways to sate my other plot bunny I present you with this, I has been bugging me for months and I know I can update this regularly! I know, the plotline will allow it!
SO anyway welcome to my new fic! It is called Exchange and I can't wait to see what you think!
additionally, I now have DA (deviant art) and if I get 50 reviews which I expect to get!
then I shall put up fan art for this! ^-^/
If I get 100...well then thats a different story, that means fan art with a lot less clothing, perhaps some censoring and stuff...{I've already drawn it!} just need the reviews to give me the courage to put it up ._. ...The concept of the fan art already suggest this stories goings on ," so let us skip to my mini warnings...
WARNINGS! Language, BoyxBoy, Poor grammar and spelling mistakes, Lack of Beta'ness, Innuendos, MURATA!, Innuendos said by Murata, Cracky Plotline, My Plotbunny and the biggest warning of them all...
THAT I DO NOT OWN KKM OR THE CHARACTERS UNFORTUNATELY!
Ima shut up now ._.
He sighed as he shifted his feet slightly and watched his excited classmates chat about all the stupid things they were going to do over the next week.
He turned and glared at them.
He loved them more than he'd ever admit, yet at the given moment he could easily strangle both of them.
His parents turned to him and smiled in unison.
The kind of smile that said. 'we know you don't want to do this Yuu-chan, however you'll thank us later.' and probably also said, 'Heheh, bet you now wish you'd read your partners profile."
He had thought that after moving from Japan (and thus destroying his future prospects of getting into the top school in the country on a full sports scholarship) in favour of the rainy, cold and aggravating country known as England (where baseball did not exist, YES! That's right! We have no baseball in Ye Olde Englande) they wouldn't screw up his life up any more.
He was wrong.
And now he was stuck waiting.
It wasn't the fact he was waiting
It wasn't the fact he was waiting in the cold and the rain
It wasn't even the fact his parents had pretty much forced him into this
No. it was the fact he was waiting for some French git that he'd have to endure for the next week meaning he would be at her mercy
He hadn't even bothered to look at her profile or send her emails like his classmates had their partners- so he had no idea what his partner was or looked like, but honestly he didn't care.
Her name was Cheri, a girl, that's all he knew.
Although he liked girls, correction, he 'loved' them.
He would still have to be courteous to her as their guest, that meant:
No arcades, no computer games, no football matches, no leaving the toilet seat up without care, no leaving his bedroom in a mess, no certain magazines stolen from his older brother's room, no porn, no touching himself when the porn or the hormones in his body became too much, no drinking milk from the carton out of the fridge which he wasn't allowed to do anyway but that is besides the point and finally no bad language or manners.
Else Miko Shibuya, mother of two and superb curry chef would quite literally have his eyes.
The train ground to a halt and the foreign students spilt out onto the platform as soon as the doors opened, and then one by one, with their luggage in tow walked over to meet their partners and their families.
Yuuri yawned and let his eyes droop, bored from the same colours, students with either brown, black or red hair dressed in greens, yellows, pinks and greys.
He was about to slip into a daydream when something caught his attention. One of the last students leaving the train.
Dressed in tight black jeans, a white shirt and a light blue jacket embroidered in places with an intricate swirling design. Soft strands of light blonde hair covering the eyes and framing a porcelain face, hanging just above the shoulders, truly beautiful.
A boy. 'figures,' he sighed
The blonde stepped off the train holding a navy blue suitcase sporting the same design as his jacket and lifted his head slightly revealing emerald green eyes rivalling the jewels that they shared the colour with in beauty.
He looked from left to right, surveying the platform in search of what Yuuri considered as, 'The lucky bastard who had him as a partner.'
The blonde continued to look across the platform his face showing what looked to be confusion and maybe, possibly, fear.
That was, until his beautiful green eyes met with onyx ones. Then his grimace was replaced with a gentle smile.
He proceeded to walk towards his target
No! Wait! Something wasn't right.
His partner was a girl, Cheri, Not a boy! Fate must be taunting him, getting his hopes up as to dash them when the blonde would walk up to the family behind his or something.
Unless.. Unless the blonde was a girl, thinking about it he couldn't really tell. He could be a girl just dressed as a boy. Yes that must be it, he hoped.
"Hello, you must be Mr and Mrs Shibuya, My name is Wolfram Von Bielefeld, it's nice to finally meet you." the blonde said with a slight French accent in a soft and gentle yet distinctly male tone.
Yuuri's parents simply smiled and greeted him whilst Yuuri gawped, this was a little embarrassing. His mind scrawled through the brief moment when he had bothered to glimpse at the papers and salvaged the name 'Cheri' from somewhere and he internally face palmed realising that 'nom de la mere' meant 'name of the mother'.
French had never been his strong point but fortunately it appeared that his beautiful blonde companion for the next week was fluent in English so language was not going to be a problem.
The blonde diverted his attentions from said boy's parents to him and smiled gently as he clasped his hands between his own soft pair.
"I'm very sorry if you attempted to email me, my family and I rarely touch the computer and I never go on my email." Wolfram apologised quietly and Yuuri couldn't help but blush at the fact that the boy was apologising to him whilst he couldn't have been asked to attempt to contact him at all.
If he had known in advance how nice the stunning boy was, he would have made sure to contact him indefinitely.
The onyx eyed boy smiled to himself, what had promised to be a very tedious and aggravating French exchange was now showed signs of being a rather good time; he smiled as he watched his partner get into the car and sighed in contentment, he was looking forward to his week now.
WRONG! OH GOD HE WAS WRONG!
Pre-Wolfram Von Bielefeld was the place to be!
He had wondered how another boy could look so beautiful and if the 'I-am-a-Guy-who-Likes-Guys' vibe hadn't hit him before, then it certainly had now.
First he had started talking to his mom about makeup brands and then if that wasn't enough they had started on a joint rant about how 'some men have no personal hygiene or manners'.
Yuuri, who probably fell into said category because he didn't feel the need to put down the toilet seat every time he went, felt himself inwardly and maybe a little outwardly cringe.
It wasn't that he was a homophobe…..okay scratch that! He was a homophobe! In fact he had decided in the last five minutes to crown himself the King of all homophobes! and Wolfram Von Bielefeld was most definitely someone to keep at arm's length.
Because if he got too close and came onto him, Yuuri didn't know if his Homophobic resolve could withstand it, because Wolfram did look fairly effeminate and was a damn sight prettier than most of girls in his year/school/town
…..Not that he thought that though, because after all he was the newly appointed king of all homophobes.
But that was beside the point.
Wolfram turned to him slowly and gave him a frown that appeared to increase as the black haired boy forcibly repeated 'stay away homo' directed at the blonde in his mind.
The blonde's eyes glinted and a nasty smile that Yuuri decided immediately he hated appeared showing his pearly teeth.
Pre-Wolfram Von Bielefeld was definitely the place to be! Yuuri thought in distress.
If that smirk was used to describe Wolfram Von Bielefeld, then Wolfram Von Bielefeld was evil.
Mwahahahaha next chapter coming soon! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!