This morning i woke up with that song in my ead... I dont remember te title anymore... You know, it was the song with the chorus like "i really really really really like you and i want you to want me, to wat me too."... To make it short i think it's cute; i think it's the same singer as in Call me maybe... God i LOVED the video. It reminds me of that old Zazie's song, Un point c'est toi. I love those songs. But i mostly love the video of the songs *beam*


"For how many days had Xanxus stayed in that room?" Ieyasu asked.

The raven's young secretary looked back at her boss' office whose door was closed, as always. She shook her head. "I don't know, sir… When I left yesterday he was still in there, and when I arrived that morning, he was already there. And come to think of it, I remember it was already the case yesterday and the day before yesterday, too, so I don't really…"

"Okay, it's okay. Just let me in."

The girl complied. One second after, Ieyasu was entering Xanxus' office. It was barely 1p.m. yet the place was strangely dark and gloomy. In spite of the fact gigantic bay windows were used as walls, it was like sunlight simply couldn't pass through them. With a steady pace, he crossed the meters that were separating him from the huge mahogany desk. Behind, Xanxus was in his royal armchair, back turned to the glass walls so it seemed there was actually a pool of darkness flowing on the raven.

Was he asleep? At least, Xanxus gave that impression to Ieyasu. If he was, maybe it was a bad idea to disturb him. He knew perfectly how mad that guy could get when someone woke him from his sleep.

"What are you here for?" Xanxus grunted, his eyes closed.

The older man smile mockingly. "Oh, I thought you were asleep. If you want, I'll come back later."

"Cut that crap."

In a bad mood, Xanxus sure was. Ieyasu looked at the mess on the table. There weren't only piles of papers: files and folders closed months ago and some for future projects he didn't even have time to think about, everything was there, stacked in a hellish mess.

"I asked Hana since when you've been shutting in. It's good you've finally decided to work seriously, but it's not a reason for going that far." He waited for an answer, even for a curse from Xanxus, but none came. Seriously, did he really become neurasthenic? Ieyasu heaved a sigh and left a new report on the desk. In the move, some photos slipped through the sheets. "I hope you're satisfied with the WHS case. Not surprisingly, we can't just push them out. Right after you, they're in the majority, plus it seems some investors look favourably their new shareholding. VR Co.'s quotation had never got that high before. However I think Byakuran won't make a move anymore… At least, for now. I have to agree, it had been a good maneuver."

It was a lie. Xanxus' lack of morality in business had always disgusted him: the older man simply couldn't get used to the raven's way of doing things. Going as far as life threatening was just… Anyway, Ieyasu didn't believe a single word of what he was saying, and as an indifferent of a person as Xanxus could be, the irony didn't go unnoticed to him.

"What?" He groaned angrily. "If you've got some fucking shit to say, say it."

"Hey, hey, Xanxus…" He took a seat in front of the raven. "You're more irritable than usual. Something bad had happened?"

"I don't need you to feel sorry for me. If that's all, get out."

Xanxus' somber tone only made Ieyasu burst out laughing. "Come on! We're friends, aren't we? I've known you for years: something is worrying you. And as a friend-"

"I ain't have a scum as a friend."

"… As a friend, I shall do something to remedy to it. Now, you tell me."

Xanxus was on the verge of a fit of temper, or he was already undergoing it but just kept the ire that Ieyasu's words had lit in him, veiled by an appearance of sanity. Nevertheless, the whole situation was even more amusing the older man. Of course, he knew about Xanxus' recent breakup with the silverette. What he hadn't expected though was the raven's reaction. Ieyasu thought that he would come back to his previous life of debauchery, or that he would go missing like not that long ago. Well, that had been a complete miscalculation: Xanxus actually devoted himself to the work he had neglected for months. No booze, no whores. Only work. At least, with this, no one could blame him for professional negligence.

It was incredible to see such an amazing change in the dark haired man. Almost frightening. After all, Ieyasu had been right : the silver haired man truly was awesome. What he learnt from the latter last time they met wasn't bad either. That Xanxus could be a caring and affectionate man (to some extent), he would have never believed it. Oh, Squalo never specifically said he was dating the raven (Ieyasu was already glad he could worm information out about his 'partner'), but the silverette didn't really look like someone who would keep a millstone for fun. He was gorgeous, independent and talented… Nah, nah, it was still a wonder to Ieyasu what that guy liked about Xanxus.

Yeeet, it was more than obvious the raven didn't look on the bright sight of their splitting up. It had been pathetic – if it hadn't been about Xanxus we were talking about. So pathetic Ieyasu felt the need of helping his boss and, somewhat, to redeem for the doubts he first had about the long haired man.

And precisely, for once, Xanxus looked like he would put his pride aside and confide to him. He grunted and rose a little from the back of the seat. "God damn old geezer… You always say you've been happy with your wife, don't you."

"Yeah." The older man said in a breath, a nostalgic smile on his lips. "The best years of my life."

The raven grimaced. It was as though what he had to say would scrape his tongue. "I was thinking… about it. About marriage."

"Ah?" Ieyasu gaped stupidly at him. What? What, what, what, what? Was he talking about marriage? Why the hell was he talking about marriage? Oh, no, no, no, the old man paused his thoughts. He had been staring at Xanxus for too long. "Why are you thinking about that, all of a sudden? It doesn't sound like you at all..."

"Shut up. I'll get married. Go find a stupid woman. And now, get out."

Yamamoto was striking again. Each one of his movements – from the simple way the boy was holding the handle from the angle of attack, everything – was scanned by the silver haired man's eyes. They had grown slightly better… barely. They were still at the fifth séance, but Squalo had to admit the boy was a quick learner. The silverette was sure that if he let his guard down just a little, even if it was only a brat, he himself could get seriously hurt.

"Voooi! Your fucking legs, you damn brat! I didn't ask you to dance waltz or shit. Your posture sucks. Like hell."

"Sorry!" The dark haired boy said, out of breath, then immediately corrected his move before striking again.

"Don't forget blind spots. Your lousy brain already forgot what I told you last time?"

"Sorry!"

"Voi, your damn back is fucking exposed. Maybe I'll have to break some vertebras before you learn your goddamn lesson!"

"Sorry!..."

If something could ever be a trial for someone's patience, that was the silverette's limitless exigencies. Squalo was a swordsman, but he was also a teacher. A very, very intransigent one. This is something Yamamoto immediately noticed about him… Until lately. At their very first session, enthusiasm and delight could be sensed in Squalo's teaching. But now, he gave to the teenager boy the impression of forcing himself.

That wasn't totally right, but in the same time not totally wrong.

Questions as what happened between the first lesson and this one, and what he could do to help him were burning Takeshi's tongue. Evidently, he asked nothing; he wanted to live a long life. For the proud silverette, Yamamoto was a student, a brat, in no way his equal. And what he had witnessed that night, under the streetlamp – the heavy greyish eyes looking at him, allowing the boy to stay at the long haired man's side – he knew it wouldn't come back before long, if it would come back at all.

Only the sword was linking them.

However, it didn't matter how much the kid would improve his style, in no way he could even be on a par with the silverette, and even less surpass him. With a swift and nearly imperceptible wave of his sword, he could send Yamamoto fly at the other side of the gymnasium. He didn't even put much effort in it. Everything seemed so simple and easy for him it was somehow frustrating for Takeshi to look at him.

They'd been practicing for hours now (they started earlier than usual, and yet it was already quite late in the night) and, looking at Squalo's peaceful and bored face, it seemed they'd started barely five minutes before: he wasn't even breaking a sweat while Takeshi could hardly stand up. If they kept on like that, he surely wouldn't be able to attend classes the day after… or even to come back home the same day.

"You shitty dickhead, stop daydreaming like a motherfucking nitwit and focus!"

"Sor- Ouch!"

And what had to happen happened: crumpling of biceps. Yamamoto's. It ended up the training for both of them. After tidying up the gymnasium, apologizing for the nth time to his tutor (who kept on saying that a broken arm or two wasn't that serious, that it would make of him a less pitiful weakling), and assuring he would be okay for their next séance, Yamamoto left the gymnasium and an angered Squalo, before going back to his father's restaurant with a bandaged arm.

Yet, in some way, and despite all the bad-mouthing and moral harassment, the silverette didn't dislike fencing with that katana kid. Swordsmanship indeed had always been a real passion for him, but that wasn't all…

Squalo remained motionless for few seconds, turned right and left as though to ascertain there was no one around anymore. "It can't be helped. Let's go home, then." He finally whispered to himself before leaving the gymnasium.

Since the day the raven disappeared, two or three weeks ago, the flat looked oddly tidy and tranquil. When the silverette was back from work, the TV was never on. Everything in the kitchen was at the place he had left them the morning before. The bed was made and the shape of cushions on the couch finally came back to normal.

There was no one. No one to bother him. No one to wait for him. Just… no one. 'Our heart is like a treasure, empty it at one go and you'll be ruined.' Literally speaking, Squalo was ruined.

How stupid. He had always lived alone, as far as he could recall. What was so dramatic about getting back to that kind of life? They had never promised anything to each other. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that useless bastard needed anything from him apart from food. And sex. What he felt toward him was merely… Um. A nurse syndrome, perhaps?

'What the hell…' A curse crossed through his mind. The trail of his thought was starting to sound like an old melodramatic movie. Or like Sex and the city.

And what was the point anyway? They meant nothing to each other, the silver haired man was sure about that. Nonetheless, what was that small pang he felt in his chest when he crossed his doorstep? Why did that cold and rancorous glare of the raven trouble him in the middle of the night? The void the damn coffee table left in the living room still was there. Maybe he should buy another one. That was completely stupid: there had been no table in the living for nearly three weeks.

Xanxus had forgotten some of his stuff. How was he supposed to give them back to him? That idiot didn't even give him his number (because Squalo actually never thought he would need it some day). Now, in addition to his own clothes, his dressing also concealed outfits and shoes too big for him. He should take care of that, too. And also toothbrush, shampoo, and what else…

Suddenly, a way more down to earth preoccupation drew the silverette's attention; his sweaty shirt and hair were sticking to his skin. He needed to take a shower.

Throwing the dirty clothes in the laundry basket, entering the shower stall and letting warm water fall on his back and face, his thoughts started to gather together. No, things definitely weren't the same. Back then, when Xanxus first disappeared, Squalo felt more deceived than anything else. It wasn't clearly anger or sorrow. He didn't feel that kind of anguish, of an 'I disappointed him' feeling he knew at the moment.

And unlike last time, Xanxus would not come back, not after that look in his eyes. It somehow annoyed the silverette. That is, the sheer hatred he had observed in the bloody glare. Squalo couldn't find an explanation for it. Did he do or say something wrong? And for God's sake, why the fuck was he thinking about that anyway? He did nothing that he should feel guilty about, and the simple fact of trying to find which mistake he did to repulse the raven was only increasing his frustration. Holy shit! Was he seriously trying to please that asshole?

Nonsense, he hissed whilst turning off the tap. He was too accustomed to the raven's presence, that was all. It might take days or weeks, but he would forget him. Just a matter of time. The silverette dried his hair and went straight to his bed. It was upsetting to have dinner in the living room – and a funny detail about dinner: before he met the raven, Squalo always used to have his meals in the kitchen (in any case, the silver haired man was a cleaning freak). Neither did he feel like going out…

"…I can't sleep." The long haired man finally grunted after losing one hour trying to sleep. The sheets were cold, he didn't even feel like sleeping. Even almost 14 hours of morning jogging, yelling at idiotic brats, cleaning and fencing, Squalo still couldn't fall asleep. And, much to his shame, the silverette knew exactly why. "That damn bastard…"

Just how said bastard used to kiss and embrace him so passionately in the very same bed, how the tanned skin burnt against his, how he made the silver haired man come over and over and over again, that kind of memories was enough to make Squalo lose his sleep. As the latter shifted slowly under the drapes, the manly musk of the dark haired man suddenly rushed in his nose, making his lower-half react. The smell was enthralling. It was almost like having the tanned man sleeping right next to him…

Right next to him…

"Mm-Ngh…" The silver head moaned when the palm of his hand made contact with his heated shaft. It hadn't been a good idea to put no clothing in bed, and right after the shower, too. His sensitive skin was rubbing lustfully against the mattress, his breath was growing heavier by the minute, his face hotter and hotter… At long last, succumbing to the temptation, he fully grabbed his half-erected manhood and started pumping as though his life depended on it. "Aa… Ah!... Xanxus!"

It was beyond his strength, not thinking about the tanned man when he was…doing it. It came instinctively, without him even noticing. His body had become incredibly habituated to the raven's, to the point of being practically unable to come without the idea of Xanxus touching him. The place the taller man used to kiss, to lick and to suck… Damn, Squalo missed them. His hands only couldn't completely satisfy him, but it was fucking better than having an aching hard one for the rest of the night.

His legs spread wider on the bed and the pressure on his engorged flesh increased, the temperature of his body raising a few degrees again, sweat drenching his forehead and neck. There, he remembered, Xanxus would always lick and nibble at the skin there, and make him moan louder for the latter to shove his own manhood in him.

" Fuck… Fuck! Fuck!..." The silver haired man arched his back off the bed, his face still buried in the raven's pillow, breathing hard, playing alternatively with his length and balls with pre-cum coated fingers. A little more, just a little more and he… "Ugh…"

Then, how Xanxus would madden him by neglecting his arousal, pulling suddenly out when the silverette needed so much that ache inside of him. In the heat of the moment, he got on his knees, ass up in the air, one hand trapping his erection, another one slowly trailing to his entrance. The twitching ring of muscles didn't show any resistance to the first finger passing by it, nor at the second and third one. They were stretching the tight tunnel, the semen on them making their motions fairly fluid. The silverette was looking for it, for that special spot in him Xanxus always manhandled to make him feel good.

"Xanxus!..." He whined and pushed back when his fingers finally found it. He kept on thrusting in, fucking himself with his own fingers. Shit, he was pretty sure if the raven saw him in like that, pleasuring himself while moaning his name, he would laugh out loud at him. But the silver head couldn't give a flying fuck to that. He loved feeling Xanxus' aroused stare on him, he loved the fire burning in those ruby orbs when the tanned man was about to climax. "Xanxus!... Aah…!"

Squalo couldn't hold back anymore. With a last pumping and a last shoving, he came hard, his entire body shuddering intensely, before slumping on the soiled sheets, out of breath. This time, Squalo didn't have to wait for too long before being totally dead to the world.

TBC