A/N: Okay...so I think I'm getting out of hand. It is like...2 in the morning and here I am posting ANOTHER prompt!! lol. Stop me before I update again!! lol j/k. I think you guys would be heart broken if I didn't update. I think this one is rather cute. It's longer, cuter and like infinitly fluffier than the last one. So please enjoy this!!

Prompt: ILY- "While he had been done with his project for a few days I still had a heap of work to do on my sad excuse of a picture, and yet he still slid a pad of paper to me. In the top left hand corner were the letters ILY in curly, swirly handwriting..."

Warnings: Shonen-Ai (No more than that...Sorry...maybe I'll mention some sex soon. You guys might be getting SF'd), Swearing (Yup...that's right you read it correctly! RIn has a story with SWEARING in it!) and one annoying (and very real) Art teacher.

Prompt 4: ILY

I wasn't the type of guy to be in any type of art class. I was the type to train for hours upon hours at my father's dojo. I was in no way of the word, 'artsy'.

Yet I spent every school day, sixth period, sitting catty-corner to my insane boyfriend in the coldest room in the whole damn building.

It's been nearly three months since I've started that class with Fai, and I still don't know how I ended up in there. I think he got me to agree to it when I wasn't listening to his mindless chatter. Or when I wasn't thinking straight. Because there is no way in Hell that I would consent to being in an art class.

Much less an advanced drawing class.

I had no type of prowess in drawing! I have no idea why the teacher hadn't kicked me out the second I turned in a sloppy sketch of a bowl of fruit for my first project. Stupid teacher probably kept me around as her verbal punching bag and comedic relief. That woman more than likely took my projects down from her stupid little file and laughed at my lopsided figures and ill-proportioned inanimate objects.

Really it was torture being in that class when I didn't belong.

But I stayed in for Fai, who (for reasons that are beyond my mortal understanding) is the guy I am in love with.

He did belong in an advanced drawing class. Effortlessly he could draw a picture from his mind, a portrait of a person he saw once, and place shadows on anything just beautifully enough to make you believe it was in front of you instead of on a flat piece of paper. If anything, Fai was belittling himself by being in a class like the one we were in.

Not only were his projects stunning in quality, but they were also among the first to be turned in…Early. After he's done he'd either free-draw or find one way or another to distract me. More often than not it was the latter…

I threw my backpack underneath the full length table and went to the sixth period cubby for projects. This two-weeks project was to illustrate a phrase (teacher's choice of course): "The changing tides". If you can't tell, I'm absolutely tickled over this one. Ugh.

By the time I was walking back with my eight and a half by eleven sheet of paper, no doubt the teacher wanted more room for my projects the better to mock me with, Fai was already settled into a chair. Not his usual chair but a chair no less.

"Eh," I greeted a little bit moodily. "Why aren't you in your seat?"

Fai looked up at me. He looked a little surprised that I was talking to him, like we hadn't been going out almost the entire time we've been in high school.

"Can't I sit next to Kuro-chan every once and a while?" he asked me twirling his pencil in between his fingers after he overcame his initial shock that his own boyfriend should speak to him.

I rolled my eyes at him when he patted my chair to invite me to sit down. I pulled the chair out and sat next to him and began to work on my pathetic piece of work. There were harsh streaks from my inept eraser, dark lines from me pressing on the pencil too hard and a few fingerprints from when Fai grabbed it out of my hands after working on a charcoal portrait of a picture of the two of us.

My eraser began to work over the darkened prints, only to smudge them further. I growled in frustration and decided it was best not to dwell on those since they were about as stubborn as the man that owned them.

Next to me I heard Fai start to tap the eraser end of his pencil on the fake-wood tabletop in an off beat, highly annoying rhythm. I turned my head slowly to glare at him. Already my day was going pretty badly. Everything from losing a very vital part of my Chemistry project to being mentally abused by my childhood friend Tomoyo happened that day. It was a small annoyance but it was enough to be a galvanized nail underneath my skin.

"Oh!" he exclaimed looking a little too cheery. Fai set the pencil down and smiled at me. "Sorry."

I went back to my hopeless project. The only good thing about being artistically challenged, I reminded myself, was that there was no way she graded me on the same level as Fai. I sketched a few non-specific lines. I really was in no mood to do a damn thing but, the teacher, Ms. Mouton would write me up if she saw I wasn't doing her work and instead goofing off with Fai.

"Hey," Fai tapped the back of my head. "Hey."

"What?" I growled as I looked up from my project.

He leaned into me and planted a kiss on my lips. I couldn't help but smile as he did this. Fai used one hand on my thigh to balance himself. One hand that he decided to tighten a few times as he kissed me. The whole class knew we'd been going out since God only knows when, so I wasn't bothered by kissing Fai in front of them. The only problem with this little display was—

"Mr. Kurogane! Mr. Fluorite!" Ms. Mouton barked at us just as Fai began to slip me some tongue.

Fai broke the connection and closed his eyes, as if to quiet the rage of being interrupted. He put his forehead against mine and smiled softly. I knew damn well he lived off of this stuff, getting in trouble for little things.

"Yes, Ms. Mouton?" he replied in a slightly candy-coated voice.

"This is the third time this month," she scolded in her fake Harlem accent.

Under my breath I muttered, "Seventh." Fai chuckled silently and kissed my bottom lip sans the sounds as a reward for my sarcasm.

"If ya'll don't separate right now I'm gonna send you up to the AP's," the large woman threatened. "Understand?"

"Crystal clear Ms. Mouton," Fai answered as he reluctantly retracted his hand, but not before giving my thigh another squeeze.

I wanted to reach over and pull him back onto my lap. But neither of us could afford another trip to the AP's. They knew us pretty well up there. Usually it was for PDA but other times it could be for that mischievous streak Fai had. He smiled at me, promising to finish what he initiated later.

Even though I wanted to finish now, I had a project that was due…today…to finish. I turned back to my seizure inducing picture and continued to add random lines and non-existent shadows here or there.

I heard metal slide across the short distance between Fai and I. While he had been done with his project for a few days I still had a heap of work to do on my sad excuse of a picture, and yet he still slid a pad of paper to me. In the top left hand corner were the letters 'ILY' in curly, swirly handwriting. I stared at it for a second and scribbled back 'ILY' under his.

After I slid it back to him I went back to work on my project. Next to me he giggled and then the fateful scritch scratch of his pencil was heard. The letters he wrote were now childishly decorated with hearts that read 'KuroxFai 4ever' and flowers that had crooked, double lined petals. If you looked at this note and then looked at Fai you'd never guess he was a prize winning artist from our school.

I twisted my body in a weird way and started to draw on my little 'ILY'. Fai scooted closer to me and drew on his some more. Then his pencil got too close to my ILY.

"Hey," I warned, feeling very strangely territorial over my ILY.

"Hmm?" he hummed as he continued to draw small pictures between our ILY's.

"Draw on your own--" I began.

I was cut off by none other than! That's right Ms. Mouton!

"There are other people who are trying to work Mr. Kurogane. Please be considerate," she continued to click-clack her nails against the keys of her keyboard after she said this.

I rolled my eyes at her and wrote what I was going to say to Fai off to the side.

Draw on your own side!

Fai considered this for a moment and then wrote back his response.

But your side is soooo BORING Kuro-chu…:(

I scoffed at his response and began to scratch out his drawings from my ILY.

I don't care Fai.

He looked at me for a second and then took my chin in his index finger and thumb and shook my head. I thought for a second he was going to kiss me but he just went back to the paper and continued to draw on my ILY.

'Kuro-woofie is cute!' was written next to my little confession. I would have erased this…except Fai all but threw himself over the pad of paper to protect it. I playfully pushed at his side to roll him off of the paper. He giggled jovially and it seemed that I caught his infectious laughter because I almost began chuckling at his insane display.

I felt another lecture from Ms. Mouton coming on but just as she was about to open up that black-hole of a mouth the bell rang. I stuck my sorry project in the turn in bin and chased Fai out of the class room. He was clutching the note to his chest and jogging down the halls.

Since neither of us had a seventh period class, being seniors and all, we both just took a ride in my small car to Fai's house. All the way there he kept talking about how he was going to frame the note and ask his foster Father, Ashura, to hang it up in the living room. Right next to the award he got for a piece he did for an amateur art gallery was apparently the perfect place for it.

I just shook my head and swiped at him every now and again.

When we got into the house and took off our shoes (to Ashura there was nothing better than a clean rug) we ran upstairs to his room since his dad wouldn't be home until about five o'clock.

The second we got into the room Fai pushed me onto his computer chair and told me to sit there like a good little doggy. While I sat there he rummaged through his closet. It was home to his unfolded clothes, his colorful art supplies (ranging from oil paints to number two pencils) and a few projects he disliked. It was also common knowledge that in his closet was where he hid any and all presents he bought for me.

I watched as he threw clean jeans to the side, pushed oceans of pencils out of his way and then bent over to look further in his closet. Sometimes I was scared that he was going to go in and never come out again. He reemerged with something just beyond my vision. Fai looked happy enough, a little bit proud over it in fact.

He backed out of his closet, a large piece of paper rolled up in his hands. I figured Fai was going to show me another picture he planned on submitting to the local art gallery. But when he backed up into my legs and looked up at me I knew there was something more. His heavenly blue eyes held the pride and hopefulness that every artist had when they felt good, really good, about a particular work they'd slaved over.

"Close your eyes!" he commanded as he pivoted on his knees to face me.

I did as I was told. I heard the paper come unrolled and then Fai curse under his breath when it curled back up. Finally the paper was apparently smoothed out.

"Okaaaaaay…" he gave me a heads up every time. "Open!"

My eyes flew open and I was greeted with the sight of a very intimate picture.

It was one that was not uncommon when we were in private but even so it didn't mean that it was any less…amazing.

In the picture Fai was on my lap, one of my hands twirling a lock of his hair, the other laying at rest on his thighs. I was leaning in to whisper something into his ear and hair. What I was whispering is something that I would only ever say to him. Fai was touching my pinky and ring finger with his fingers and his other hand covered a small square of his mouth as if he was embarrassed by what I had said to him.

There were very few sections that weren't done completely in dark hues of gray pencils. His eyes were both the same bright innocent blue he boasted and his smooth lips were colored with a pale pink with a few hints of red here and there. My eyes were a softened crimson color, less harsh than they normally were. And the same way his lips were, mine were a satiny pink with a few lines of rouge for accents.

Fai peered up over the picture to see my reaction to such a touching and private piece. I tried to run a finger over the lips of the drawn Fai but the real Fai chose then to speak up.

"Don't touch!"

I pulled my hand back as if I'd been burned. Normally if I tried to touch his work he'd either slap my hand playfully or let me touch it.

"I need to spray it," he explained a little less frazzled this time. "I used charcoal on some parts and I don't want it to smear."

I nodded and spotted a sheet of tissue paper lying next to him. I knew he wasn't being mean by denying me the privilege to touch his artwork. It was after all his.

I tapped the top of the picture and he lowered it just enough for me to be able to cup his cheek and kiss his lips tenderly.

"You did good Fai," I commented as soon as we broke apart.

A rare blush crept across his snowy skin. I think it was because this was one of those rare comments I gave him about his art. He nodded slowly and began to roll up the picture, tissue paper and all.

When he was done with that I beckoned to him with my index finger. He came over to me happily and sat on my lap. I snaked my arm around to hold the side of his face since he was facing forward and I was sideways to him.

"I love you."

I felt his spine wrack with shivers as I said this. It was like food to my fingertips.

Fai gingerly held my jaw in the palm of his hand and kissed my face.

"I love you too."

The next day we walked into drawing together to find a rough sketch of the two of us at the back of the room, propped up against the sinks. It was drawn on a large chunk of masonite according to Fai.

I noticed it was of when we were kissing yesterday. Whoever did that had a really good memory and great talent, much like Fai.

It was only after Ms. Mouton got over her early class PMS that she said that apparently one of Mrs. Androski's painting students was in our class yesterday looking for material for her next project. Well, it would appear that whoever she was, she found it.

End of ILY

A/N: Yes...Ms. Mouton is a REAL art teacher. She was the first one I had when I moved to Texas. She likes to try to BE one of the kids even though she's like...mean to those who have talent (AKA my sister), she's like in her 50's and she has a really messed up sense of...everything...? Mrs. Androski is my painting teacher. She is one of THE nicest teachers I've had (besides my old French teacher...) and she lets us paint whatever we want as long as we can defend it when our closed-minded principal tries to fire her for it. Yes yes...the horrors of high school right?

Next Prompt: A Father's Love- (Refer to chapter 2) Lol, sorry too lazy to retype it...