(a/n): Golly, my first loves.

"Don't look at me like that."

The boy jumped, his text book slidding to the floor, and an avalanch of note book paper fluttering around. He flushed blankly in the direction of the red head sitting at his desk, who was gazing at him with careful, studious eyes. "I-I don't know what you are talking about, Gaara."

The other's eyes narrowed, and a low sound of disapproval slid out of his throat. The dark haired boy blushed more, leaning over the bed to snatch up his calculus book, and, sneaking another look at Gaara to find that the he was still reguarding him with suspicion, returned to his work. Despite his best efforts, however, he found the presence of the other male extrodinarly distracting, even for someone as disciplined as himself.

Gaara seemed to have completely forgotten about his homework, and was still watching Lee with discontent. He didn't say anything for awhile, and when he did, his soft voice was almost inaudible against the scratching of Lee's pencil against the paper. "You know."

That stumped him. He looked up from his scribbles with a furrowed brow. Gaara's slow, abruptly straight forward manner always left him a step behind. He was always for the honesty, but Gaara really took the time to think about things. Lee just blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

And right now, he was not in the mood for Gaara's mind-delving games. "No, I don't." This time, the response was immediate.

"I'm not stupid, Lee."

"I didn't say you were."

"Then why lie?"

"Who's lying?"

"You are - you do know what I'm talking about. Or were you not staring at me?"

Lee kicked the math book off his mattress with a grumble and flopped back against his pillows. Gaara always made him frazzled. "I can't think straight around you. Do you do it on purpose?"

It was a rhetorical question, obviously, but the red head didn't seem to catch the uncharacteristic sarcasm in Lee's voice. He tilted his head, and a small frown touched his lips. Lee turned towards Gaara, sensing the response forming in the other boy's mind. Gaara's frown turned into a smirk.

"Sometimes." Lee huffed, sure that if Gaara were to ever laugh, he would've done so then. "You still didn't answer my question."

The dark haired boy stretched his arms up, folding them carefully behind his head. "It was a statement, not a question." Lee glanced over at Gaara smugly, proud that for once he was right; and calculating, know-it-all Gaara was wrong.

But of course, the other boy was unfazed. "Why were you looking at me like that?" He was too stubborn for his own good, Lee decided.

"I don't know," He saw the retort on the red head's lips, and beat him to the punch. "Well, I guess I do know, but I don't want to tell you."

That seemed to puzzle Gaara more than Lee had expected. And a puzzled Gaara was more often than not an annoyed or angry Gaara. "I want to know." Lee winced, looking away, but held firm.

"I won't."

The bed creaked under a new addition of weight, and Lee started, coloring, when two hands placed themselves on either side of his head. Gaara looked mad. And not just the typical, I Hate Everyone mad, it was the more elusive, Do What I Say, Or I'll Make You Regret It mad. Gaara usually saved that one for Lee, seeing as the dark haired boy was more inclined that others to disobey the intimidating young man.

He tensed, preparing himself for a full-body heave, a method of using his superior height and mass for disslodging Gaara. It was awkward, but certainly easier than simply over powering him - the red head was stronger than he looked. Unfortunately for blundering Lee, Gaara was prepared.

With his arms still folded over his head, the red head had managed to position his own hands at just a spot where Lee couldn't lower his, or reach Gaara's shoulders. He tried his legs. Lime green irises flashed, "You aren't getting out of this."

Gaara was shifting, organizing his lower limbs precariously, and -

Lee flushed. Oh, brilliant.

In a corner of his mind - the part that wasn't busy overheating - he wondered if that was the best that Gaara could come up with. Really, he thought, there were plenty of other perfectly efficient means of subjugation. But he wasn't thinking like that for very long; after all, the red head's skinny pelvis leaning full-on his own hips was more than a little distracting.

At first, he struggled. That was a bad idea, as it turned out.

When Lee tried to twist to the side for better leverage, Gaara thrusted. Fire scorched through his nethers, squeezing a groan out of his lips.

Gaara leaned down and licked the side of his neck. Lee squirmed, tilting away from the warm muscle, and unwittingly providing the other boy with full access to a tanned throat. Oh, this was a predicament. "Tell me," he growled against his skin.

"Nn - ow!" The redhead had bit down, bruising the skin, but not breaking. He demanded an answer again, but Lee only shook his head, having lost the ability to enunciate proper english. The green eyed devil ignored the other boy's hisses of pain, continuing to assault the sensitive hollow under his ear.

Finally, Lee let out a wild gasp, wrenching his face off to the side, and practically shouting, "No, no, no!" He kicked his legs fiercly, setting the slighter figure above him off balance, forced to shift his arm to keep from falling off the bed. The dark haired boy scooted out from under that fiendish body, pulling his knees up to his chest and gripping the front of his shirt tightly; He braced himself for Gaara's retaliation, which he was sure was going to be a lot worse the second time around.

But he didn't resume his ravishing, like Lee expected. The red head lay supported on his elbows, head bent down, breathing quite heavily. After a few mintues, raised himself enough to lock eyes with the other out of breath boy, eyes full of some thick, wanton emotion Lee couldn't pinpoint. He felt that something ought to be said, but since nothing intelligent came to mind, he merely blurted out: "I'm still not telling!"

Gaara's eyes smoldered furiously, and he appraised Lee with a look that could only be described as deciding whether or not he ought to kill him outright, or make him suffer for a while. But he only shook his head, pushing off the bed with a noise halfway between a moan and a growl. He was across the room in seconds, yanking open the door and halfway through before pausing, shooting back a glare at the boy.

"This discussion is not over."

He was gone, then, and Lee let out a deep, quivering breath. For a few minutes, he tried to gather his thoughts and piece together a logical explanation for the incident. But it was like trying to force unmatching puzzles together - the more he tried, the harder it became. But it wasn't in his nature to give up on things so easily. In fact, it wasn't in his nature to give up at all. So he rolled over, squeezing his eyes tight, resigned to figure it out in the morning.

I didn't have any intentions to turn this into more than a mild one-shot, nor do I really feel like writing more for it; but it kinda totally calls for a continuation. DD:

Any input?