A/N: This was written a few months ago after a long night of drinking. A friend of mine happens to play a wonderful Akari online and in my drunken state, I had to do a crossover between Karneval and Fruits Basket- Ha'ri and Ka'ri are too similar to not want to watch them interact. The grumpy, kuudere doctor-duo. This is set in an alternate universe where Hatori is employed under the Head of the Research Tower.

There wasn't a time, or a place. There wasn't a specific moment when it was finally established what they were, or what they had been doing. It took months- but they'd finally been worn down. For him, it was that he was always... Gone. Shigure could be sitting right next to him, but he was a thousand miles away. Hatori could see it. Those, dark, glassy eyes gazing at him- no, through him. Shigure's soft hums as if he were actually listening to Hatori's work day, the long nights working on his 'novel' that never seemed to get any longer. The nights Hatori would wake up and find Shigure asleep on the couch. It was clear what was happening. Hatori knew it, and he was too weak to end it before it grew too messy.

For Akari, it hadn't been mental. He and Hirato still had that spark- that little something between them that kept the romance alive. Perhaps it was decadent chocolates Hirato would have flown in from exotic cities. Or the massages. Or even the baths they'd take together- no, it wasn't a mental disconnect. It was Hirato's absence.

The Captain would stay gone for months at time, leaving behind a partner who desperately craved his touch, craved the intimacy he so dearly needed. Hatori could see it. Even without overhearing of the various Circus missions around the Research Tower, he'd always know when Hirato was gone. It was evident on Akari's face, apparent in his mannerisms. His quirks, the little smirks, the entire aura and air of superiority the blond gave off would slowly die down, month after month, until that flame was nothing more than a subtle flicker.

For Hatori, it was terribly heartbreaking to watch. The strength of the other was finally being worn down- his energy sapped so much that even Hirato's return wasn't enough to light the spark anymore.

Still, things carried on as usual. Both of them never spoke a word about their significant others, but they knew. They could read each other like a book. They were too similar of personalities not to.

I'm unhappy.

The first encounter had been at Hatori's lavish apartment near the Research Tower. A fight that had ended in a screaming match had left Hatori in a right state. He'd told Shigure all week to keep Saturday night open, that he'd be having his superior over to entertain for the night. Hatori had carefully chosen the wine, the cheese, and had quite the meal prepared in an effort to impress the blond. All week, Hatori had gone over and over again with Shigure on what to wear, what to say- how to make the best possible impression on Akari and his partner, Hirato, who Hatori had also invited.

While they got along just fine at work, besides the minor bicker or two when Akari was in a mood, he wasn't entirely sure what Akari would be like outside the work place. He was interested in seeing Akari and Hirato's dynamic together as well.

Of course, Shigure had to ruin everything.

"Akito needs me. What do you expect me to do, Ha'ri?"

Shigure left, and Hatori slammed the door behind him. He paced the perimeter of the spacious kitchen for a full fifteen minutes before the knock startled him out of his brooding reverie. It wasn't so much surprise, as it was relief when he saw that Akari had come alone.

He left you behind as well, then?

Akari seemed irritated, if not embarrassed. Both apologized profusely for their missing partners- while Akari hadn't mentioned what prior engagements kept Hirato from attending, Hatori assumed it was one of two things. 1) Another mission had arose. Again. Or, more likely, 2) Hirato just truly didn't want to be in Hatori's company.

Both were completely viable.

Deciding to make the most of the fine cuisine and wine, Hatori and Akari discussed work, mainly- Akari prattling on about which specific employees he'd like to drop into that piranha tank of his, and Hatori sharing the details of his latest examination of a vagura blood sample.

You know, it was odd to see Akari without his lab-coat. Hatori was sure the blond probably held the same sentiments for him as well. ...But it wasn't bad, per se. Just different. Akari looked nice in light blue, Hatori thought. It didn't wash him out nearly as bad as the pristine white lab coat did against his pale, alabaster skin.

Akari made himself at home, a few glasses of wine in his system and he lounged back into the couch. For once, Hatori would almost say the Head of the Research Tower looked... Relaxed.

At ease.

Happy.

Hatori smirked a bit behind his wine glass, stealing glances towards him every so often as he leaned against the kitchen counter. They watched each other from across the room as they spoke idly, their conversation finally deviating from work and more into their interests outside of their profession. They had just enough in common to feel at ease, but enough differences to keep it interesting. It was a strange combination, but not an undesirable one.

The stem of the wine glass between his long fingers, Hatori strolled over and joined Akari on the couch, sitting at the other end. The "stolen" glances were slowly growing longer and longer, and much less sneaky, until they were now more or less staring at each other. The smirks had subsided, there wasn't laughter anymore. It had grown silent between them, but Hatori didn't feel like the pregnant pauses were entirely awkward.

In fact, the pauses seemed to speak louder than their words. A mutual understanding was being reached. There was a reason he was drawn to him.

You feel just as empty as I do, don't you?

Stormy, feldgrau orbs flicked back and fourth between the crystalline hues, as clear as water, but twice as deep. Pain. Pain, and sadness. Longing. Akari could be read like a book- but only here. In the office, he did an excellent job at hiding this side of himself.

Why here? Why was his guard down now? Perhaps he was finally broken. One can only take so much before they cracked.

He didn't how, nor when. The distance between them had been closed and his mind swam with confusion and lust as the alcohol pumped through his veins. Heart aflutter in his tightened chest, Hatori went off sheer instinct. His mouth met Akari's, his chapped lips pressing hard into the other's, his long fingers curling into blond, feathered locks.

But Akari didn't kiss back.

Hatori's lips parted and his laved at the entrance, running his tongue across Akari's lower lip. Silently, he asked for permission- practically begging to enter. His lips tasted sweet, like wine. His thoughts were racing, already trying to hypothesize what it was his mouth would taste like, and in typical scientist fashion, Hatori wanted- no, needed- answers. He needed access into the other's mouth.

But Akari didn't move.

His fingers tangled in his hair loosened, and Hatori pulled back slowly, utterly horrified. His eyes widened, realizing what he'd done. Akari's usually-hardened features were lax, unreadable. No emotion was to be found there, and that in and of itself was more terrifying than his anger could ever be.

Hatori sat in the silence, shell-shocked. Eyes flicking downwards, he searched his mind for something- anything he could say to make this right. However, he wasn't given the chance. He thought he might've heard the other mumble an "excuse me," but he couldn't be sure. The empty wine glass was set on the coffee table, and Akari was already out the door as Hatori rose from the couch.

He was gone.

That weekend had been incredible painful. Hatori dreaded what Monday would bring. Would he lose his job? Would he be exiled? Or worse, killed? Hirato would have his head for touching his property- Hatori was sure of it.

Shigure returned from the main estate, and the two bickered endlessly. The mutt seemed to be not a single bit concerned that his partner was more agitated than usual, that their fights had been more explosive lately, and that only rubbed salt in the wounds.

This time, it was Hatori who slept on the couch.

Monday rolled around, and not nearly as soon as Hatori would've liked. It had been nearly lunch time, and the blond was nowhere to be seen. Again, his absence was more worrying than him coming in and throwing an absolute fit. The physician had been nearly sweating the entire day, waiting for the moment that they would run into one another and the awkwardness- or perhaps rage- that would occur.

Hatori stood up from his desk, giving a small stretch and cracking his back. He glanced down at his empty coffee mug and decided he'd better go refill it if he had any hope of finishing filing his paperwork for the day. Sleeping on the couch to get away from a certain mutt hadn't done wonders for his back, nor did he get a sufficient amount of sleep, but it wasn't as if he ever had a decent sleeping schedule.

Wandering down the hall mindlessly to the cafeteria, it was then that he finally noticed him. Coming the opposite direction was Dr. Dezart, hands shoved deep in his pockets and seeming to be lost in thought. Hatori nearly froze, but forced himself to keep walking. Perhaps he wouldn't notice him- perhaps he could escape this sure to be wretched encounter.

He'd passed him. They passed each other, and there were no stolen glances, no scoffs, nothing. Hatori's tense shoulders relaxed, but perhaps a bit too soon. He jolted when he felt a firm hand on his shoulder, and heard the distinct sound of a doorknob turning.

The utility closet?

Oh, God.

He was jerked backwards into the darkened closet and Hatori was positive this was his end. No doubt, it was Hirato, clad in that damned top-hat of his. He was going to beat him to death with that tacky cane, Hatori knew it. He shut his eyes as his tall, lithe frame was thrown up against a wall, nearly knocking the breath out of him.

"Why? Tell me, dammit."

Hatori's heavy-lidded eyes opened, and found that it wasn't dark hues staring back at him. It was his.

Those ever clear, ever deep orbs.

Akari.

"Why what?" Hatori hissed, coughing a bit to try and regain his composure after being thrown into drywall.

"Why do you want me?" Came the reply, that was blunt enough to make Hatori's head spin.

"Why... Do I want you?" Hatori repeated, not even entirely sure he'd heard Akari right. A white canine dug deep into his lower lip and he mulled the question over, Akari's grip on the breast lapels of his doctor's coat serving to be rather distracting.

"I suppose... I suppose it's because I know you are just as lonely as I am," Hatori breathed, the words weak and lacking the conviction he so desperately wished to display in this moment. "I can see it. When he's gone, you... You aren't yourself."

Akari seems stunned into silence, for once, his grip loosening as he listened to the other's soft words. He doesn't respond- again, going quiet. This caused Hatori to begin to worry. His anxiety building up inside him- humming like a wound-up piano wire ready to snap- he's about to say something, until Akari halted him.

The blond raised his hand up, silencing the other. His eyes close, seeming to come to a conclusion that only he would ever know. Almost as if resigning to his fate, his hands drop down to Hatori's belt, and the deft fingers beginning to pull at the leather to unfasten it.

The dark, enclosed space left Hatori with nothing of interest to stare at blankly while he feels the other tugging at his belt, and just as Akari had been earlier, he's stunned into silence.

He closes his eyes, and then there is lips on his neck. A bite- a rough one, just enough to be painful. Hatori winces, but his breath catches in his throat all the same. It's still pleasurable, but perhaps that was only because it was Akari. Those lips were trailing upwards towards his ear, and Hatori could feel his zipper sliding down with ease over his growing erection. He shifts against the wall, stifling another moan.

"Hatori," Akari murmurs into his ear, his voice husky, and thick with an emotion Hatori can only hope is lust. "Why do you want me when you know that I will never be fully yours?"

Hatori keeps his eyes shut, his lips parting slightly at the other's words- the whispers and hot breath on his ear is so deliciously intoxicating, but his words had been doleful. Tugging at his heart strings, he gathers himself and tries to ignoring the prodding fingers slipping into his slacks.

I will only ever have a part of you. You will never be fully mine, Akari, I know.

"Because," Hatori breathed, his head tilting back against the wall and giving a soft moan before continuing, "I know that you'll never be fully his, either."