I don't have the time to be doing this, but I will anyway. It's a new couple for those of you who have seen G-Rev and the sexy Miguel. Placed in the earlier episodes, after Claude injures himself on purpose.

Disclaimer: I wish.

-Hallway-

He couldn't bear to walk into the dressing room when he knew the team would be training and he couldn't, the pain merciless subduing him into taking a break. He'd been ashamed to request special treatment or even a lighter regiment but working at that level of intensity was too much for him to strand strong against, he barely managed with the news crew.

The hallway he stood in was empty, quite, only the sounds of his sorrowed sighs lingering. The atmosphere was tense all around him, a thick shroud of shame and hurt enveloping the surrounding air.

His hand, gloved had still been clutching the wound on his left arm, the squeeze and pressure decreasing the numbing pain. When it felt better, no longer agonizing, he shifted and straightened his posture, shoulders broad, pain hidden, he inhaled sharply and readied himself mentally to step back inside.

Though he was never able, the door opening, hinges making him wince, he blinked profusely at his captain exiting, the entry closing off behind him.

''Miguel?''

''Claude.''

Either stole a glance at each other, eyes downcast to the tiled floor, a silence so awkward looming overhead, threatening the uncomfortable. Miguel's feet shuffled against the cold ground, an inaudible sigh escaping his lips as he spoke uneasily.

''Feeling any better?''

The gray haired boy merely nodded; resuming his positing leaned up against the wall, a few steps further away from his team mate that were quickly abolished and distance shortened as the platinum blonde stepped in front of him. He took command sternly yet still gentle and caring, bringing up the arm for inspection till he was satisfied that it was healing.

Claude dared sneak a glance at Miguel whose fingers audaciously began pulling up his sleeve, only to have the injury jerked away from the touch, instead a flat palm pushed against his. Then they laced the navy blue of the night and fiery crimson intertwining, held tightly together.

''Barthez...gave me time to check up on you.'' Miguel blurted quietly, for no reason but he felt the urge to talk, a pointless exchange of words, blue orbs focused on their hands.

When his eyes cast back upward as the other hand began to toy with the brass buckle, clasping together the ebony materiel he couldn't held but be enthralled with the deep mauve staring back at him. He was uncertain as he was drawn forward willingly, cheeks brushing, tan and pale as his eyes fluttered shut, leaning into the embrace with the arm wrapped around him, pulling them closer.

Miguel breathed in the deep scent, a delightful aroma, intoxicating, refreshing as his fingers tugged off the glove concealing them to replace his cheek against the other, the warm touch meeting the slightly flushed flesh as he pressed his lips to Claude's, stealing a long kiss.

It was indeed so, lengthy and passionate, burst of pleasure with their flicking tongues, parting lips, craving the hot caverns in which they explored, experienced together. True best friends, sharing everything jointly, intimacy, feelings, hands roaming, stroking and demons fought along side.

They were caught in the intense moment of a lush meshing, eager and yearning more, heart beating vehemently, thoughts smothered by lust. It had been so deep and sensual, the flames of their contact burning, roaring bright that they never heard the footsteps approaching till forced apart for air, deprived of their lungs aching and breaths hoarse.

Their glossy orbs never had the chance to lock lovingly, both pairs diverting to the feet clicking upon the floor getting nearer. Within an instance a deep shade of pink graced their cheeks but they refused to untangle themselves having already been caught in the heat. Hesitantly, the secretive lovers, gulping looked up at whom witnessed their sensual love for one another.

There wasn't one but two people still walking down the hall of their secret, the first, taller, not a competitor in that tournament but the shorter with him was and feared. Miguel urged himself to keep eye contact and stand strong like the captain he was to the foreign strangers that seemed un-phased by their actions.

The red-head, a force to be reckoned with from The Blitzkreig boys was smiling playfully with intrigue at the couple while his companion had a faint smirk as they strode by without a word, snicker or the smallest sound just a look, intimidating and sly that left them embarrassed and almost shy.

The cocky blader turned, throwing a final glance over his shoulder mockingly, the twinkle in his cobalt orbs shaded lavender truly devilish as he gestured down to his own hand grabbing onto the other covered in black and soft fur, like theirs. Then the pair disappeared around the corner, nothing but a knowing smile, identical playing upon the lads from the battalion's lips.

''Ti shto dalish?'' Was the question, even if he knew the answer already.

"Neecheevoo" He reassured innocently but the smirk he was sporting left him looking like the devious hypocrite he was.

-Ende-

I do get to claim first pairing, right?

I could leave you all in the dark with the Russian but then, there's no fun in having written it.

1)What are you doing?

2)Nothing.

Enjoy? Yes?