This is just another short fiction involving my two favourite PoT characters - Niou and Yukimura.

There just isn't enough love for the two of them :)

Enjoy!

Niou was sitting in front of his mirror, calmly studying his face.

He had deep greyish green eyes. He knew that when he was angry they would turn darker and darker until they were almost black. His silver eyebrows were currently knitted together in concentration, but mostly they would be raised in a mocking manner to annoy just whoever was available. His mouth was slightly agape, his rather full lips in a small pout. His messy silver hair was complimented by lightly tanned skin.

"Stop staring at yourself so hard, Niou-kun. It will give you a headache." He jumped slightly at his bouchu's voice. No, there was something off with it. It sounded like he had a throat ache. Turning his head a little he frowned even deeper.

"Niou-Kun." Ah, the angry tone sounded better, less rough, more smooth. Niou smiled. Well, at last he tried and failed miserably. The frown returned back to place. It wasn't easy impersonating the child of god.

"Just one more time." He muttered under his breath.

"Cut it out already." The voice demanded harshly. "Don't make a fool out of yourself."

And suddenly there it was the bright smile.

Yukimura Seiichi entered his home with a relieved sigh. The rain was pouring down outside and he had just come from the street courts when it had suddenly started to pour down.

"I'm home!" He said as the kitchen door opened and his little sister stepped out with his favourite tea and a plate of dinner. He blinked surprised. Had she anticipated his return? Sayuri was often supplying him with dinner when he came home late and would usually bring it to his room so he could study while eating.

But no, she looked equally as surprised.

"Aniki?" She asked, unsure. He nodded and she almost dropped the plate. "But who is in your room then?" Seiichi quickly kicked his wet shoes off and not caring if he ruined the hardwood floor sprinted to his room dripping wet. His sister was following on his heels. When he opened the door he was shocked to say the least.

There he was sitting at his desk doing calculus. He turned with a bright smile towards the door and opened his eyes in shock, when he realised that he was staring at himself.

Now his sister let go of the plate and tea.

The loud shattering cut the three Yukimuras out of their dazes.

One hastened and picked up the rests of the meal, the other let a small smirk slide onto his lips and the third was still staring at his spitting image.

The smirk did give him right away, so Niou let himself slip into a more comfortable slouch in the chair at the desk.

"Niou." Seiichi stopped the growl that threatened to rip from his throat. No one moved, except for Sayuri, who, after she cleaned up the mess, fled the room. Only when the door closed with a resolute 'click' Seiichi stepped towards the trickster.

Niou was prepared for the slap, so he easily avoided the oncoming hand. While Yukimura wasn't as strong as their fukubouchu, Niou had concluded that he would react with physical discipline. It was just the way Yukimura ticked.

He hadn't been studying his bouchu for the last few months intently for nothing.

Yukimura halted when his hand didn't collide with flesh, realising what he was doing. Getting physical wasn't actually his cup of tea, so he was surprised that the trickster had anticipated the hit.

"Yanagi." He replied to the unspoken question in the bluenette's eyes. The data master had gladly lent Niou a hand on the condition that Niou would give him a few new relevations about their bouchu.

Yukimura continued to stare at the silver haired teen.

"It was a test to see if I would pass going out as you." Niou answered.

Yukimura shortly wondered if the boy on his chair was psychic and decided he didn't want to know when he saw the glint in those green eyes.

"So you passed." He grunted out, flopping onto his bed. Suddenly his body seemed to remind him of his hard training and he felt unbelievably tired.

Niou chuckled, but stayed put, not taking the invitation to leave. He gazed at the blue haired male on his bed. The wet tennis clothes clung to his rather delicate frame, giving away the lean muscles hiding underneath milky skin. When Yukimura threw an arm over his eyes trying to shield out the intense stare of the trickster his shirt rode up a bit, revealing a delicious piece of flawless belly. Niou liked his lips greedily.

"How did it feel?" He asked. Yukimura ignored him, so he approached, crouching down in front of the bed.

"Yukimura?" He pressed again. A grunt.

"Seiichi?" He tried again, this time his voice not drawling.

Yukimura tried his best to block out the trickster.

He had always been sort of intrigued with the charismatic boy. His illusions let him experience a whole new level of arousing excitement, but seeing himself had just cracked open the pandora's box the trickster was holding.

Seeing himself with the lazy smirk drawn across his lips, his blue eyes flashing darkly and his hair messy – he had looked like he had been thoroughly fucked. The satisfied expression in Niou-as-Yukimura's eyes had just been the tip of the iceberg then.

Yukimura had always known he was drawn rather to boys than girls, but had never really pondered his possibilities until right that moment. And he didn't need to be reminded that several faces had appeared in hot dreams over the years, silver hair more often than maybe other.

"Seiichi?"

He snapped his eyes open, turning his head to glare at the boy using his own voice. He expected to see himself crouched down next to his bed, but it was still Niou. His eyes were dark with excitement. He was almost leering to take in his reaction.

Pain flashed across Yukimura's face.

He was exhausted, but he was still a boy and a really tempting Niou with such an expression was a rather tormenting thing for him. He tried to calm his boiling blood and straighten his face, but Niou had already caught a glimpse of it, scooting closer, invading his bouchu's personal space.

He put a hand on his forehead, swatting the arm resting there away.

"You don't have a fever, do you?" He asked worriedly, his eyes narrowing as his cheeks tinted more and more pinkish. Niou rarely showed concern. The only other time he could remember was when he had been hospitalized.

"You might… want to leave." He grunted out, his voice strained. Niou inched only closer, his breath already tickling his cheek. He emitted an almost cool aura that felt good against his feverish cheek.

Yukimura turned his head and immediately realised he shouldn't have. His nose brushed against his teammates'. His breath caught in his throat.

And then there was Niou.

Cold lips smashed on hot ones, cheeks heating gradually in an awkward first kiss. Niou's tongue darted out tentatively, tasting his bouchu.

Yukimura's eyes were wide with amazement at the rather pleasant feeling of the trickster against his lips. He could feel the wide smirk that resembled a smile more and more every passing second. He could not recall having seen Niou smile before, so he pulled back and caught a glimpse of said happy little notion before it was carefully hidden beneath a too wide smirk.

"You still look a little flushed, bouchu." He remarked after a small pause. He was staring at the bluenette expectantly.

Yukimura only pulled him closer by his rattail in response. For now he was completely content to kiss the trickster – he would think of a punishment for breaking into his house later