A/N: It's been more than a year since I posted the first chapter, holy shit. This shows how much I jump around fandoms and into other OTPs, I sincerely apologise. NiouMarui will remain my Number 1 regardless of how much I love my other OTPs because they hold a special place in my heart. Anyone still here? Don't give up on me please!

Warning(s): Homophobia (this topic is mentioned in this chapter, be warned), Crude Language, UnBeta'd etc.


Part Two

.

.

.

"Marui?" Niou sniffs, his nose swollen and red from the constant friction against wads of tissues. He hates falling sick; his movements become all sluggish, everything feels cold, and his appetite is somewhere in Never-Ever-Land. Not to mention the horrible nights suffocating from a blocked nose! He holds the door open with his left hand and blinks wearily at the red head. "What are you doing here?"

"A little birdie told me you succumbed to a cold bug," Marui replied, darting forwards, pushing Niou back into the apartment and kicking the door shut with his leg.

"I'm not dead."

"Never said you were." Niou yawns and watches his friend flit about through blurry eyes. Marui dumps a big bundle of something onto the sofa and approaches him, steering him back into the bedroom, where Niou was lying in bed cursing the world and drowning in misery a few minutes before. "Man, you look terrible. You really should rest. Want some soup?"

Niou allows his friend to direct him and answers, "No. Can't eat."

"Oh? Well, too bad. You still got to drink—yes, drink, not eat, there's a difference. I already made some, don't let my efforts go to waste, ungrateful beast."

Niou obediently settles under the covers and replies, "Tormenting the sick with verbal abuse. Real evil of you, Marui."

"Like you said, you're not d—"

"BUNTA!"

Slower muscle reflexes and sluggishness be damned, Niou jolts upright and his head spins so quickly one would have thought he snapped his neck. "Who's that?"

"Nothing to worry about," Marui chides, waving his hands in the air, gesturing for his friend to return to his rest. Niou grudgingly obliges and eyes the red head closely as he trots to the open door and yells, "Just a sec!" Turning so that he's facing Niou, Marui wears a cheery smile and asks, "Heisuke, you remember him?"

"You brought that kid here?"

"It's Friday."

"Aren't you supposed to keep kids away from—" Niou breaks off with a sudden sneeze, as if to prove a point,"—sick people?" His hand frantically patting the mattress for the box of tissues he kept for the night. "Not to them?"

"He'll be fine. Children can be surprisingly strong you know. It's not as if you get sick every time someone coughs on you—you'd be sick every single moment of your life!" Marui nonchalantly shrugs off the argument. "Just get some rest. I'll be back with your soup in a few. Don't mind if I use your microwave."

With that, he left, leaving Niou a snivelling mess on the bed.

.~.

"So…kid calls you Bunta." Niou spoons up the last drop of soup into his mouth, his appetite having recovered miraculously upon seeing the bowl of steaming hot chicken soup.

"And?"

"Not much, just didn't know you were that close to him."

"I do take care of him once a week. Besides, it was either that or Oji-san and God forbid someone call me an uncle when I'm still at my peak." Marui tilts his head to the side and bites on his bottom lip. "You know…we have known each other for quite some time. You call Yagyuu by his first name, don't you?"

"Yes." Niou follows what Marui is saying and something clicks in his mind. Smirking, Niou leans forwards as much as he could—darn the flu (and Marui), for confining him to the bed—and says, his voice unintentionally husky, "Bunta."

Marui jumps out of his seat, he even had the girly squeal, which brings up so much middle and high school memories, to accompany it. "W-wh—NIOU!"

Niou turns his head to the side and laughs, coughs interrupting his laughing fit on occasions. Recovering, he grins at the red faced Marui and cheekily remarks, "You wanted me to call you Bunta, didn't you? Admit it, you do."

It was humorous watching Marui splutter and turn redder and redder, till he was nearly the same shade as his hair. When he could finally come up with a coherent sentence, Marui crosses his arms across his chest and grumpily claims, "You're delirious. Your fever must have melted your brain. I'm leaving, get some sleep."

Niou simply laughs.

It was unexpectedly nice, having his name on his tongue.

.~.

Immensely bored out of his mind, Niou slides down so that his head rested just so on the back of the couch. Flipping back and forth between channels, he hears the munching on popcorn on his right. "You have any DVDs?"

"No. Downloads are way better."

"Illegal."

"Everyone's doing it." Niou hears the rustling of a packet and it enters his line of sight the next second. "Want some?"

He takes a handful because he doesn't have anything else to do. His free hand jams the buttons on the remote again. The television goes mute and Niou curses, albeit incomprehensible with his mouth full of buttery goodness. He doesn't bother fixing the volume. It wasn't as if there was anything worth listening to.

"Of all days, we had to run out of beer today," Niou complains, slamming a palm over his eyes.

"Not my fault you didn't bother to stock up."

"Well, I didn't expect you to finish a gallon by yourself."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Not."

"Too."

"Not—my god, we're babies."

"You said it." Niou groans. "Please tell me you have a fucking badass movie on your laptop or wherever the hell you download them into?"

"My laptop's at the shops for repair." Marui flings a popcorn in the air and catches it with his mouth. "Seems like we're out of luck."

"Shut up and give me those goddamn popcorns."

.~.

"I spoke to Jackal today," Marui announces out of the blue, and Niou raises a silvery eyebrow, looking at the red head from his peripheral vision. "He said I should try dating."

Niou involuntarily clenched his fist and his jaw tightened. Feeling a strange knot in his stomach, Niou shrugs and grunts in response. Marui doesn't continue, and the jolly Seven-Eleven advertisement fills the room. Curious, Niou turns to face his friend and asks, "Have you ever gone on dates with, you know, men?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Niou sees the red head fidget before sighing. Tracing circles with his index finger on the sofa, Marui answers, "It's not like I can go up to a guy on the street and ask them out, hoping they share the same sexual preference. I mean, I've heard of places where people like…me go to, but I've never…"

"No, I get it," Niou interrupts, sensing his friend's unease. "It was a stupid question, sorry."

The television sings in the background, neither of them paying much attention to the programme anymore.

"Do you agree with Jackal?"

"What?"

"That I should try dating?" Marui blows out, his fringe flying briefly before hanging back down over his eyes. "Expose myself to the, um, culture?"

"…if you want to?" Niou manages to grit out, the words feeling like sandpaper against his tongue.

After what felt like eternity, Marui says, "I'll think about it." The knot in his stomach tightens and Niou ignores it, focusing on the television once more, trying to understand the show after missing multiple scenes. "Niou?"

"Yeah?"

"Why haven't you been dating?"

"What?" Taken aback by the sudden question, Niou drops all pretences to enjoy the film and stares at Marui.

"Nothing much." Marui shrugs off, still tracing circles on the couch. "Was just wondering why you haven't gone on a date since you moved here. It's been over a year, I thought you'd at least have one date in that timeframe."

"I guess I haven't gotten over the trauma of stalker ex," Niou jokes, earning a roll of the eyes and a glare. Quieting, Niou gives the topic a long think over and eventually says, in barely a whisper, "I don't know." Quirking a small smile, he continues, "I suppose I'd rather hang out with you."

Marui quickly turns away, hiding his face behind his mop of red hair. The rest of the evening is filled with nothing but the sounds from the television. The knot in Niou's stomach seems to have unravelled a little, but it didn't help him reach any conclusion.

Niou detests unsolved puzzles.

.~.

Niou whistles, shoving his hand into a tub of popcorn they popped in his kitchen—the stains in his microwave leaving proof of their feat. "She's hot."

"Damn right."

"Shut it, you're gay."

"Don't be an ass, Niou."

"Yeah yeah, you can still appreciate the female body. I know," Niou rattles while Marui rolls his eyes at the silver head's antics. An explosion booms in the movie and Niou comments, "Oh look, she blew up."

"The tears of all men who watch this."

"Hush, we're getting to the good part."

.~.

When Niou left the office at six in the evening, he expected to find himself following the same old route back home, sprawl right out on his comfy ass sofa, and maybe have a drink or two in front of the television.

He certainly did not expect to find Marui Bunta drunk as shit in the corridor, long legs blocking the way with his back against his apartment door, an empty bottle or two rolling beside the red head. The red head was barely coherent, head lolling to the side.

Barely getting over his shock, Niou curses and briskly covers the distance, kicking the empty bottles to the side, taking note to dispose of them properly later, and drags his friend up onto his feet. Marui immediately crumples against him as his knees gave way. Niou swears again. Holding Marui upright with one arm, Niou fumbles for his keys and with a jerk, the door opened. He quickly pulls Marui into his apartment and slams the door shut, leaning against the back of the door with his eyes squeezed tightly shut for a few seconds of respite before attempting the distance to the couch.

Multiple questions enters and leaves his mind as he drags Marui towards the couch. "Fuck, Marui," he mutters when he stumbles from the deadweight that is his friend.

"Nn…Ni—"

"Shut up," Niou snaps at the drunken man, tossing him not so gently onto the piece of furniture. "You're going to be explaining a hell of a lot when you're sober and coherent. So, you shut up and rest now."

Marui looks up at him with blurred eyes. The red head blinks once, twice, thrice; each time so slowly Niou could never figure out whether they were blinks or whether his friend had drifted off to dreamland until violet eyes revealed themselves once more. He licks his lips. "Ni…" Marui mumbles, obviously even in his drunken state, Marui is incapable of listening to Niou's instructions,"…ou. Niou…"

Niou eyes his friend and darts into the kitchen, returning with a glass of water in his hand. "Since you refuse to sleep like a good little boy, drink." Marui groans in response, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away from the offered glass. Niou narrows his eyes and thrusts the glass closer. "Drink."

It wasn't easy to get the liquid into a stubborn Marui, but Niou manages, after many years of being one's friend, Niou knows all his weaknesses and how to exploit them.

Placing the now empty glass onto the coffee table, Niou sighs and runs his fingers through his tousled hair. "Do you feel like puking?" Marui weakly shakes his head. Niou stands for a few moments, contemplating, before grabbing a bucket and placing it on the carpet, just at the right position should Marui decide to throw up. "Lie on your side," Niou instructs, rolling his eyes when Marui failed to comply and forcibly moved the red head himself. "I don't want you choking on your vomit and dying on my couch. Imagine the accusations that will fly my way, no thank you."

When he is finally satisfied that Marui can be left alone to rest and perhaps sober up for a while, Niou continues, "I'm going to take a shower. Don't move, unless you have to puke and then I gladly ask you to aim right into the bucket."

"Mm…"

"Right." Niou sighs, throwing Marui a second worried glance before leaving to complete the task he set off to do.

.~.

Marui is awake and staring up at the ceiling when he returned. Lying on his back, Niou thinks as he grits his teeth, I will not have any part in this if he decides to choke on his bile after I had made the effort to save him from that fate. But as he thinks again, Niou shrugs and decides that Marui should be able to save himself as long as he's not unconscious—which he obviously isn't, seeing as he defied Niou's orders to stay still.

"Can't sleep?"

"No."

Niou startles, not having expected a reply, and nearly drops the towel he was using to dry his hair. "Want to talk?"

Marui's jaw tightens as his lips fuse into a straight line. After a long moment of silence, Marui answers, "Not really. Maybe." He sighs. "I don't know."

Niou plants himself onto the coffee table and leans forwards, resting his elbows on his thighs. "You're fairly coherent for someone I found drunk silly not thirty minutes ago."

Marui doesn't reply—not that Niou was expecting one once again. He fiddles his thumb, distracting himself in the silence. His stomach growls and Niou realises he had missed dinner. Cursing for what was probably the thousandth time that night, Niou glances at his friend and finds Marui finally in the state of slumber. A half-smile creeps up on Niou's face and files the few minutes conversation into what he labels as 'stupid and strange things Marui does when drunk'—he has a collection now; one that only continues to grow as time passes. Niou likes to remember these events, being particularly useful as blackmail material. Out of all their friends, his mental folder of Kirihara topped the rest by a milestone.

His stomach growls again, reminding its owner of the discomfort should he continue to ignore his hunger. He relents, allowing his stomach to lead him into the kitchen where he fixes himself a microwavable meal. Just as the machine beeps in announcement, Niou hears mumbling from the living room. Guessing that Marui is up once more, Niou pulls the plastic container—swearing at the heat against his skin—and briskly walks towards the coffee table, where he dumps his meal onto the surface, blowing tenderly on his tingling fingers.

"…Niou?"

"Why is it that you can't go to sleep like every other person who drank more than their own body weight?" Niou says, rolling his eyes as he digs into his food. He doesn't look at his friend, and continues, "If you simply refuse to—"

"Is being gay disgusting?" He is cut off and in his shock, half chewed food falls from his mouth. Niou whips his head around and sees Marui's half-lidded eyes. "Niou…did you—"

"—up, Marui. You're drunk, go—"

"—think I was gross back then? When I—"

The air is tense as Marui whispers the last few words. Niou feels it gripping at his throat as he chokes. Marui still looks at him with those half-lidded eyes and his lips is twisted into a wry smile. Niou cannot—he cannot—he's choking and he needs—Marui's eyes drift shut as his expression transforms knowingly—no, Niou struggles to form the words. But before he can, Marui is asleep—unable to listen to anything he can say.

Niou clenches his fist, his heart sinks into his stomach.

"Never," he whispers anyway. "Never. Ever."

.~.

When Jackal called him to arrange a meeting, Niou had to admit he was more than stunned. Never had the Brazilian met with Niou alone, they never were the closer of the team; Jackal was more Marui's best friend as Yagyuu was to Niou.

So when he walked into the designated family restaurant, Niou didn't know what to expect.

"You know about Bunta," Jackal had stated straight up, before Niou had even taken a peek at the menu.

"Yes."

"When?" Niou had pursed his lips, eyes narrowed as he accessed his long time friend. Jackal seemed to know of his scrutiny and had waved his hand, saying, "I'm not condemning him. It's not—I—nothing will ever change between us. He can fart rainbows, have horns and a crab for a nose, and I will still be his friend."

"What do you want to know?"

"I want to know your thoughts." Jackal had paused to stir his coffee. He then looked up and continued, "You kept it from the rest of us. I want to know why."

"It wasn't my right to tell anyone. Not then, not now."

"But you support him."

"You support him," Niou had countered, raising his eyebrows in mocked confusion.

"You're right." Jackal took a sip. "I do." He raised a hand to flag a waiter and rattled off an order, gesturing to Niou to do the same. The waiter left with both their orders and Jackal had said, "But that doesn't answer my question: when?"

"Why aren't you asking Marui?"

Jackal had wryly smiled then, with a tilt of his head and a shrug of his shoulders, the Brazilian held out his arms and said, "You're a good friend, Niou. I'm proud to be able to call you that. As will Marui." Jackal later grinned, and the tension between them dissolved in a flash. It was hard to imagine that there was to begin with, both having been friends for many years and never having bad blood between them not even once. "And to answer your question: I did. He told me to ask you, so here we are."

Niou had rolled his eyes. "You could have said that to start with."

"But what's the fun in that?"

"I always thought you were the more serious of the team. I'm starting to rethink that."

"It only took you ten years."

"Perhaps you changed after we graduated."

"Your skills at derailing the subject is as remarkable as always." Jackal smiled. He thanked the waiter for the food and turned his attention back onto Niou. "I would have fallen for it if it weren't for my first hand experience of your expertise all those years ago. How did you find out?"

Niou had sighed and shook his head in defeat. "High school. Third year. Just before graduation actually." He neatly sliced his potatoes. Looking Jackal in the eye, he had said, "He confessed to me. That's how I found out."

Jackal's eyes had widened as he gaped, and Niou could understand his surprise, for he had remembered being more than stupefied back then. And Niou Masaharu was not one to be shocked speechless easily; Marui had done so with just one sentence.

"You rejected him," Jackal had softly breathed out. The Brazilian squeezed his eyes shut then, nodding slowly. "I understand now. You're even better than I had imagined, Niou."

"No…any of us would have done the same," Niou had answered. "It was Marui. We were Rikkai. We were a team. Just as we still are now."

"Yes," Jackal had agreed. "I hope Bunta remembers that. He has kept it secret too long."

"I didn't—I didn't know he kept it a secret until," Niou gestured uncertainly with his hands, "your girlfriend, that meeting. Mm. I always presumed he'd tell you." Softer, Niou had mumbled, "After all. You were the one he kept in contact with all these years. If I had known…"

"If you had known you would have tried to convince him to tell us."

"Yes," Niou had admitted. "And I am. I did. He nearly took my head off when I confronted him that day. But…he's starting now. After all, he told you."

"I suppose he is." Jackal had taken a deep breath. "Thank you, Niou."

.~.

Niou wakes, unable to recall when he had drifted off into dreamland. The couch is empty and there is nothing but a note under his head to speak of the red head's presence in his apartment the night before.

Thanks.

- Marui

Niou fingers the note, deep in thought. He glances at the clock, rubs his mussed up hair, and grabs his phone before he could change his mind.

.~.

He rings the doorbell, balancing the tray in his other hand.

Niou hears the shuffling of feet on the other side of the door and steps back. Marui opens the door, his eyes swollen and red, and the astonishment on his face is priceless. "Niou? What are you doing here? Don't you have work?" Marui croaks, his voice hoarse.

Niou raises the tray and says with a shrug, "I brought cookies."

Marui glances blankly down at said cookies, and back up at Niou's face, his expression a mix of emotions. Then, his lips twitch at the ends, curling up into a smile. The happiness and awe on Marui's face is brighter than sunshine and more captivating than the starry night.

It is indescribable.

.~.

"I'll never hate you, or think you disgusting. Never."

Lips part uncertainly. They tremble like leaves clinging onto the edge of their lives on an autumn's day. "…thank you. I—I…thank you."

.~.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"What's there to talk about," Marui says, fingering the hem of his shirt. "You're not dumb, I'm pretty sure you know what it is."

Niou musses up his hair and starts pacing up and down the length of Marui's couch. "You passed out fucking drunk in front of my place without any explanation whatsoever, do you know how scared I was? And then you asked me whether I found you gross, which I absolutely do not—fuck, Marui don't look at me like that, I told you I'll never, I swear, I'll never." He stops and kneels in front of his friend. Niou stills Marui's cold and clammy hands and warms them in his grasp. Softer, he begs, "Please believe me."

Marui shakes his head. "I do, I really do. I promise." He squeezes Niou's hands in return and says, "But I was always so afraid. I never wanted you to hate me."

"I don't."

"I just had to do it, I loved you so goddamn much. I'm sorry, I had to. I didn't think of how you might have felt, I didn't care."

"I know. It's okay. It's okay."

"Fuck, I'm so pathetic, this isn't me. Don't look at me." Marui tries to pull his hands out of Niou's grasp to shield his eyes but Niou holds on tight. "Don't—"

"You can tell me anything, you know that."

There is a pause. "Not my PIN."

It takes a moment for the words to process in Niou's mind and he laughs. "No, except that and your bank account password." His legs are turning numb and Niou shifts. "You trust me, don't you?"

"You know I do."

"No, I do not. I need to hear you say it."

"Niou—"

"Marui."

"Yes, I fucking trust you, alright?"

"You said you've seen the discrimination before, but I've never seen you drunk as hell on my doorstep like I did yesterday and fuck, I do not want to witness that ever again. What happened?" Niou asks.

Marui sighs, clearly reluctant but at Niou's urging, he relents and says, "My boss, she found out her driver supported the gay rights movement and fired him on the spot. He supported and was fired because of it." His hands clenches into fists. "I mean, I knew she was—she didn't like homos but he wasn't even a homosexual and she couldn't—I was forced to hear her rants and insults over and over again, I just…I couldn't take it anymore."

"So you drank."

Marui nods, ashamed.

"Your boss is a downright bitch and should be sued her fucking ass off," Niou curses. "Why are you still working for her?"

"I can't just quit."

"Why not?"

"My job, Niou!"

"You have enough savings to last an entire year—yes, I do know about it. And you're a graduate with fucking fine credentials. It's not like you can't job hunt while still working in the meantime—no matter how much I want you away from that life-sucking motherfucker this fucking instant." Niou stretches his sore legs and situates himself on the couch beside Marui. "There's always room for you to bunk with me if you wish to save on rent."

Marui quirks the corner of his lips. "No, I do not think that's necessary."

"Honestly though, think about it," Niou says. "This kind of boss isn't good for you—for anyone."

"Okay."

"Wait," Niou suddenly says, "does this mean that kid you care for comes from her?"

"Heisuke? Yeah."

"Holy. She better not pass on her fucking discriminative opinions to that kid or I swear to God—" Marui cuts him off by stuffing a half-eaten cookie into his mouth. Niou glares at his unexpected act but softens when Marui pulls him into a tight hug and mutters into his shoulder, "Thank you. Really, thank you so much."

Niou returns the hug with a rib-crushing squeeze as though to ascertain that yes, Marui is here, he is in my arms. He has lost sight of who's comforting who, because he has never realised the extent to which he needs Marui and fuck if he loses him forever.

It's okay. I'm okay. I'm okay.

.~.

"This is weird," Marui says, staring at the coffee table bare of beer cans. "It's the weekend, Niou. Where are your party pants?"

"Most people don't drink on Sunday nights."

"Yeah, but we aren't most people."

Niou looks at Marui out of the corner of his eye and asks, "Do you really think I'm going to offer you drinks anytime soon?"

Marui flinches—barely noticeable—at the tone of Niou's voice. He hugs his legs against his chest and says, "I'm not an alcoholic, you don't have to ban them completely. I get that it wasn't healthy and it was awfully stupid but I can make my own decisions, Niou. You do not control me."

Niou covers his eyes with his hands and throws himself backwards, sliding down the couch into a slump. "Look…I know. Just—can you please just indulge me for a while?"

Marui shifts on the couch and Niou feels his breath on his skin—hot and tingly. It should be uncomfortable but it isn't. Niou grits his teeth at the twisting of his stomach. His hands are peeled away and Niou stares up into determined purple eyes. They are focused as they surveyed Niou and Marui only relaxes when he does, a small curl forming at the corner of the red head's lips. Niou reaches up to flick Marui in the nose and he yelps, springing away from Niou with his arms up in a defensive position. They engage in a staring competition for a bit before laughing like they were back in high school, after creating chaos in the classroom.

"Alright, I'll indulge you," Marui agrees, "since you've been dealing with my shit all this time. But—" He smacks his lips loudly. "—do you happen to have any gum on you? My mouth is feeling rather empty."

Niou feels a strange stirring in his lower abdomen at Marui's words. He wets his dry lips and clears his throat. "You never change the way you don't think of what you say before you speak, do you?"

"What? Do you have gum or not?"

Niou shakes his head. "No, I never have them."

"Geez, you're useless."

"Ugh, we better have drinks in a month's time." Marui groans and flops down onto the couch, resting his legs on Niou's chest. He peeks at Niou warily and says, "That's enough time right?"

Niou takes the opportunity to tickle the bottom of his feet while Marui struggles to escape, hysterically laughing and screaming. "We'll see."

"We'll see?" Marui exclaims, his arms a blur at the speed they're flailing in the air. "Stop—fuck, Niou—stop it, oh my god, stop—I have a stich, my sides! And 'we'll see' on what? Fuck, fuck, Niou!"

"On your behaviour," Niou says, finally releasing his friend from the tickle of hell.

"What the hell am I, a misbehaving student?"

"Puri."

"Christ, I thought you stopped that ages ago."

"Pupina."

"Niou!"

.~.

There is a chilli plant sitting in a small pot on Niou's windowsill. A plant. Niou Masaharu has a living, breathing organism in his apartment. Really. Marui inches towards the it and cautiously prods a leaf with his finger. A sudden cough causes him to jump two feet in the air and possibly lose ten years of his life.

"Don't fucking do that!" Marui curses, whipping around to rage at his friend. "God!"

"Why are you tip-toeing around a bleeding plant?" Niou asks exasperatedly. "It's not going to eat you, chill."

"Was making sure it's real," Marui says, taking a step back from the window, his hands clasped behind his back. "Not a bomb or zombie-turner."

"Zombie-turner? What the fuck?" Niou scoffs, flicking Marui in the forehead. "You've been watching too many movies."

"Games," Marui corrects, rubbing furiously at the spot.

"Since when did you play games?"

"Watch. Not play."

"Why the fuck would anyone do that?"

"Don't mock it till you've tried it," Marui sing-songs, flitting over to the couch, which he flops ungracefully onto. "I'm so bored, entertain me."

"What do you think I am, a clown?" Niou complains, although his tone is fond. He checks the condition of the chilli plant and grabs a spray bottle, watering it. Marui grumbles in the background and Niou says, "Go and watch those games you like so much, why don't you, my apartment isn't your hangout zone."

"They haven't been updated," Marui whines, kicking his legs like a petulant child. "We always hangout at your place, it's a thing now. Get it, a thing, like a rule!"

"I never agreed to this."

"You don't have to," Marui says as a matter of fact.

"I'll hit you."

"Try it," Marui challenges, sticking out his tongue.

At the twinkle in Niou's eyes, Marui yelps and runs around the couch. They both end up at a stalemate on opposite ends of the piece of furniture. Niou fakes left and quickly advances from the right but Marui's quick reflexes saves him from being caught. Their grins are wide and it feels like tennis, where they faced each other on opposite sides of the court, the net the only thing separating them. Hours fly and if they forget to crown the champion, that's okay too.


A/N: Fun Fact: I wrote this entire thing because I wanted Niou to bring cookies over to Marui for a "newly moved in" self-introduction. No jokes.

Also, I have a Tumblr if anyone's interested. URL's the same as my pen-name. I'd say link's on the profile but links doesn't seem to work on FFnet anymore.