Thank you VERY much for the lovely reviews, here's some lemon... juice. DON'T KILL ME, chapter 3 will complete and rectify this ^.^ Please review again- 15 will promise the final instalment.

"Happy Easter, Misaki."

"Usagi-san, what are you doing with that egg?"

"I'm going to put it in the fondue…" he muttered, his eyes narrowing gleefully as he smirked that evil little smirk.

"O-Okay," Misaki said. "What does this have to do with me?"

Misaki was answered with another little smirk.

Misaki had been waiting to fight, had tensed his fists and arms, preparing for Usagi's next seduction onslaught. But none came. Not throughout dinner when Usagi-san gave him permission to use the kitchen once he had finished with it (the fumes of sweet, milky chocolate deceitfully calming Misaki for a while until his built his guard back up). Not during the News. Not before, after or during Misaki's shower. Misaki was not even pulled into the shower with Usagi-san. In fact, it was the absence of any sex from that day that put Misaki most on edge.

"Why are you standing in the doorway, Misaki?" Usagi asked as he dried his hair with a towel, sitting at the end of his bed.

Misaki blinked out of his worried reverie and attempted a tranquil smile.

"Just… thinking." Panicking, fretting, planning my escape…

"Come to bed," Usagi-san yawned. Misaki squinted his eyes in sourness.

"You're going to sleep?" Misaki asked in disbelief.

"Hmm, let's see- head on pillow, pyjamas on, covers on, lights off… nope, just about to cycle the Tour de France on a unicycle."

Sarcasm, Misaki thought. So he's not ill, then…

"Misaki," Usagi-san growled, throwing over the corner of the duvet on Misaki's side of the bed.

Misaki padded in, eyes wide and watchful as he stepped over the choo-choo train. A tangerine slit of light filtered through the gap in the door as he slid into bed, eyes locked on Usagi's, scared stiff. Usagi raised both his eyebrows and smiled.

"Misaki?"

Oh, don't go playing the innocent, caring-

"Good night. I love you." And with that, Usagi's eyes were closed.

Well, it's not like he hasn't pounced on me once… no… no… well, 'stuff-stuff' has happened but this morning with those Goddamned noodles…

Misaki blankly slapped his cheek at feeling remotely spurned and lay his head down on the pillow, watching as Usagi's lips parted, looking so serene that he understood what all those squealing fangirls saw in him.

Then he felt the stroke over his leg. Misaki shivered and jerked away from Usagi.

"I knew it!" Misaki cried.

"Knew what, Misaki?" Usagi said plainly as his fingers splayed out over Misaki's thigh, shifting over the cotton and running over the elastic waistband, running over Misaki's silky stomach. Misaki buzzed…

"Stop that!" Misaki swatted Usagi's hand away and rolled over, back turned to the deceptive author. He realised his mistake too late. No sooner had he gone to turn back around, Usagi's constricting arms had bound themselves around Misaki's slight torso. Trapped. "No, no, no!"

Usagi pressed Misaki's earlobe between his lips, letting his breath brush behind his ear and down his neck.

"You lying bastard!"

"I made no lie."

"You made out… made out…"

"Yes, we're making out-" Usagi began, fingers gliding up the side of Misaki's thigh, over his hip, pushing his top up lightly as his nail dragged over Misaki's side.

"No, you made out that you were going to… going to…"

"Shhhh…" the sound swept behind Misaki's neck and spiralled right down his spine as Usagi hugged him tighter to his broad-shouldered, muscled body.

Misaki tried to twist his chest around, tried to squirm away; but who could resist the gloss of soft tongue up around the ear, warm and wet, fingers drawing in and out on your stomach like a budding and dying flower?

Tendrils of pleasure sizzled around his torso. Misaki felt a large hardness press at his lower back and tried again to pull away…

But the scent of chocolate stopped him dead.

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