Author's Note: Okay, don't ask me where the hell I got this one from. It just kinda popped into my head, fully formed and I was like, "Well hello!". Just randomness, but in a nice way (I hope). Only one pairing, but to tell you right now just gives the game away.

Disclaimer: Ce n' est pasà moi.

Pay back.

The room was still. Calm, autumnal sunshine filtered through several gaps in the blinds, slanting across the neat rows of desks. Outside, the crisp leaves were turning golden and beginning to fall of the trees, whirling and dancing in a flurry of fiery colours that seemed to set the blue sky aflame.

A serene peace filled the classroom, the only sound coming from the many pens, scratching across paper as people feverishly wrote out their work, desperate not to be held back for being slow. Boris sighed and smiled. This was the kind of atmosphere he could work in. Calm.

Boris felt a twitch under the table. He blinked in surprise as a foot brushed against his leg. He kicked it away absently, but it came back, like an insistent puppy, desperate for attention. Boris gave the foot a firm kick and glanced over at the hunched figure sitting next to him. Rolling his eyes, he turned back to his essay.

He hissed in surprise as a socked foot slid up his trouser leg, running up his shin. Boris tried to yank his leg away, but to no avail; the foot came with it.

"Yuuri!" He hissed warningly. The girl sat at the desk in front of them turned and gave him a reproachful look, before turning back to her work, flicking her frizzy black hair over her shoulder. Boris glowered at Yuuri, who continued to write as if nothing was wrong, his foot running up and down Boris' leg all the while.

"Yuuri, quit it," Boris muttered, lifting his other leg and giving Yuuri's toes a sharp jab with his heal. Yuuri stiffened and withdrew his foot and Boris smirked to himself, savouring the small victory with smug pleasure.

It didn't last long.

"Yuuri!" Boris snarled as his companions foot slithered up his trouser leg once more, the red head still concentrating on his work.

"What?" He asked, the picture of innocence.

"Stop it!"

"Is there a problem, Mr Knutzenov?"

Boris froze as a ripple of laughter swelled across the room. Boris glanced up to see the teacher looking straight at him, his face set in quizzical disapproval as he stared at the lavender haired Russian. Boris flushed and shook his head.

"No sir," he said quietly. The teacher nodded and turned back to marking test papers. Boris threw a sideways look at Yuuri, who was still working away as if nothing was wrong.

"Are you happy now?" Boris whispered out of the side of his mouth.

"Oh, Boris," Yuuri said, his voice full of sweetness. "I'm always happy when you're around."

"Don't say that!" Boris hissed, trying to concentrate on his work. Yuuri shrugged and turned back to his own work. A moment passed, and Boris began to relax. Yuuri had withdrawn his wandering foot and was now scribbling away like everybody else in the room.

Then, for no apparent reason, Yuuri shivered. Dropping his pen on the table with a quiet clack, Yuuri rubbed his hands together vigorously, then flipped his book back to the previous page and began reading through what he'd written, sitting on his hands to keep them warm. Boris rolled his eyes. Such a drama queen.

Boris, glad to finally be able to concentrate on his own work, paused, his pen hovering over the page, and read his last paragraph back to himself.

… several of the causes of the mutiny in France were not only economical but sococial…

Boris tutted to himself as he spotted the mistake and was just about to cross it out when a hand slid over his thigh and down to his knee. Startled, Boris' hand jerk forward and his pen ripped a hole in the page.

Boris stiffened and turned his head very slowly to look at Yuuri, who was apparently oblivious to any kind of disturbance. A smug half smile played across the red head's lips, and as he glanced across at Boris, their eyes snagged, if only for a moment, and the smile widened into a wolfish grin.

"My, my, Boris," he murmured, his lips barely moving. "Aren't we a little bit tense this afternoon."

"Yuuri, get your God damned hands of me," Boris growled. The hand moved away from the knee, travelling further up his thigh towards his groin, fingers dancing over the inside seam of Boris' school trousers.

"Yuuri!"

Boris grabbed Yuuri's arm and clamped it to his side, glaring at his companion. Yuuri seemed to get the picture and, pouting, returned to reading his work.

The frizzy haired girl in front turned around once more, and was about to say something when her friend tapped her on the shoulder to ask her something. Glaring at Boris with unmasked disgust, she turned back to answer her friend's question. Boris glowered at the back of her head. Do you're worst, sweetheart, he thought angrily.

Suddenly, a cold hand shot up the back of Boris' blazer, across his abdomen and down the front of his trousers.

"Jesus Christ!" Boris yelled, leaping out of his chair and upsetting the table, pens, papers and books crashing to the floor. Yuuri snatched back his hand and covered his face, his whole body shaking as he desperately attempted to suppress his laughter. Boris stood over him, breathing heavily, his eyes aflame with fury.

"You little-"

"Mr Knutzenov!"

Boris cringed as the teacher bellowed his name, turning slowly towards the front of the classroom. Every student in the room was choking with suppressed mirth at Boris' outburst. The teacher didn't seem to be finding it very funny, though.

"Is there any reason for you to have disturbed my class twice in one lesson, Mr Knutzenov?" He asked.

"No, sir," Boris replied sullenly.

"Bring your work to me."

Glaring at Yuuri, Boris bent down to pick up his various sheets of paper, then slouched to the front of the room and handed them to the teacher. He stood in silence by the front desk while the old man read through the pages.

"This is very good," he said grudgingly, handing the papers back to Boris. "Now just conclude and-"

There was a shrill ring as the bell went for the end of the day, and a unanimous sigh rushed across the room as people put down their pens and began putting things in their bags. Boris stalked down the aisle back to his desk and began putting his own things away.

Looking up, he saw Yuuri watching him.

Right. Pay back time.

"I hope you're a fast runner, Yuuri," he said casually. Yuuri cocked his head on one side and gave him a puzzled look.

"Why?"

"Because I'm going to give you exactly five seconds head start, and then I'm going to kill you."

Yuuri's face paled and he tittered nervously.

"Aw, come on Bor," he said sweetly. "You know you liked it really."

"One…"

"Stop being such a sourpuss."

"Two- I'd be getting a move on if I were you, Yuuri."

"Bor-is."

"Three…"

Yuuri studied Boris' face. He seemed very serious. Yuuri swallowed.

"You are joking… aren't you, Boris?"

"Four…"

Yuuri grabbed his bag and swung it over his shoulder, nervously twiddling a lose thread. Boris looked up and grinned.

"Five… You better run, Yuuri."

Fin.

Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. R&R please! Merci.