For those of you who notice this before skipping to the latest chapter, everything's been rewritten for the heck of it. Minor details changed, so there's no real need to reread everything if you don't want to. Love you all!

Rating: T+
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Chapter Title: Withdrawal

--Kyo—

You are angry with yourself. Mortified. You don't know what happened to make him jump you – when the hell did it get sexual? – and you don't know why the fuck you didn't push him off right then before it could get worse. All you know is that he did, you didn't, and within a minute you managed to embarrass yourself, dig your grave that much deeper. You made a sound – a fucking groan, no less – and all because he was fucking touching you a little more than normal. This whole situation's been fucked up from the very beginning, and you know it's only one small difference between all the other times he's kissed you, but you can't help but wonder how many lines you'll end up crossing if you stay the way you are.

You wish this could be some insignificant little thing that you can just push to the back of your mind and ignore, but it isn't. It's not something you can just pretend isn't happening, and it's not something you can allow without feeling some sort of qualm. It's affecting you, small as it might be, and it's a problem. Because you know now that every time you fight with him, even if it's just a petty argument, that unbearable tension will be there, both of remembering that one time, and both of you will be wondering who'll be the first to snap. Your mind will jump to it, willingly or not, and you'll remember that all you need to do to shut him up is kiss him.

Again, you press your face into your pillow, resisting the urge to do something violent, stomach curling in on itself with the thought of his fingers in your hair and body pressed into you. You don't want to think about it. You won't think about it.

(not yet)

--Yuki—

You can tell that he's been avoiding you. He's there, but the moment you start getting frustrated or angry – and you don't know how he can tell you are, since you hide it just like everything else – he's gone until you've calmed down, or until you're in a group again. Unable to do anything. It's annoying the hell out of you, but you think you know why, even if you can't say for sure.

Kissing him like that was definitely over-stepping some kind of boundary. It was a bit more physical than the rest, and you can't ignore the fact that you're actually anticipating the next fight. As much as going to him when you're frustrated gets that extra energy out of you, attacking him like that when you're both angry and passionate and fighting is satisfying – more so than you want to admit.

And you know it affected him. He doesn't show it much, and has adopted a rather bored expression whenever faced with difficult situations like the ones you've been getting into, but you can tell by the way he watches you out of the corner of his eye. The way he refuses to touch you. And now, how you're sure he's avoiding you.

And you, in return, are starting to seek him out. It's unintentional at first; your eyes automatically tracking his movements, wondering when he might disappear again. It's a little sad, seeing as how it's only been three days, but by the third, you're looking for him in earnest. You want him. Want to kiss him – and the fact that he's actually evading you makes it all the more desirable.

You know this isn't a good thing. Know that having that kind of want for him is bad, and it goes through your mind that just maybe you should let it be – let it work out of your system so everything can go back to normal. However, on the sixth day you are ignoring such thoughts. You doubt that there's a 'normal' to go back to, anyway, and that need for release has you uncharacteristically catering to what your desires are before thinking of anything else.

So, you ask around politely and casually, easily getting what information you want out of your adoring peers without breaking a sweat. They all love you and the perfect image they've cast on you, and there's no reason that you shouldn't take advantage of that once in a while.

You figured that one of his hang-outs would be the roof – you've interrupted his moments up there many times before – but you also find that he's been spotted sitting in empty classrooms during lunch and free period throughout the school year – specifically the art room. Which you think is typical, really, since you can't see the cat enjoying sitting in a normal classroom without the large windows overlooking the school grounds.

When he isn't in class during study hall, you decide to go find him, venturing up the stairs to the fourth floor, stopping in front of the art room door. It isn't all the way shut, and you slide it the rest of the way open. For a second, you don't see anyone. Easels are set up all around the room, silhouetted against midday sky. After a moment, though, your eyes focus with the lighting in the room, and there he is.

He's sitting cross-legged on the larger than normal windowsill you're sure is there just for that purpose. His head is turned away from you, leaning against the wall with his hands folded over his stomach, looking rather comfortable and at peace. Sunlight being the only light source in the room with the lights turned off, you're given the odd image of him giving off a glow himself.

When he turns his head and spots you where you've paused for a moment in the doorway, you can see his shoulders stiffen up, alert and nervous. His legs unfold and he sits up a little, but other than that he makes no indication that he's about to leave. Now is the time to make a move, and you know that you're about to break on of your own rules. You told yourself that you wouldn't go to him because you want to. You aren't mad. You aren't angry. Sure, your stress level is a little high at the moment, but other than that, you have absolutely no reason to be here searching him out.

So you hesitate, and you both exist there awkwardly for a moment, just staring at each other.

Then his face changes from watchful to uncaring; that uninterested look ghosting over his features as he rolls his head back to rest against the wall. "Well?" He says. "If you don't want anything get out."

You're sure he's well aware of what he's offering.

You slide the door closed behind you and walk towards him. With every step you take a warm pressure builds up in your chest, and you have to struggle for a moment to keep your pace even. It's anticipation – the past week without so much as touching him has put you into something of a withdrawal, and you can only hope that he doesn't notice that you aren't coming to him for the right reasons. Hope he doesn't know this is changing things for you. You have never been more thankful that you know how to put on a façade and keep it there.

He tenses slightly again as you near him, giving you an almost guarded glare, but his chin tips up when you lean in to meet your mouth, so at least you know he's done avoiding all contact with you.

A sense of relief washes over you, like a weight being lifted off your chest, and you press into him a little harder. You wonder faintly why you waited a week to do this. His mouth is warm, open under yours yet again almost invitingly. You have to resist the urge to touch him – to pull him closer to you so that more than just your lips are touching. You know that if you did, it would probably be pushing it too far, and after a week of him barely looking at you, you don't feel the need to chase him away again just yet.

--K—

The bell rings and you're rather thankful to leave the room. You didn't think he would actually look for you. Didn't think he would persist like that. You're glad the room was dark, because you have no idea what kind of face you were making after that. You felt a definite lack of his hands on your wrists, taking away the reassurance that this is remaining what it should be. You didn't even fight him – fucking frozen there while you let him kiss you. Hell, you thought it might actually be over between the two of you after the fifth day, and your feelings couldn't be more conflicted.

You don't know what to do.

At the thought of not touching him like that again – of going back to the way things were supposed to be without kissing him or anything – and you get a horrible sense of…regret, or some weird emotion that shouldn't be there, and definitely shouldn't have surfaced. You should feel anger. He's using you. You know that better than anyone, since you're doing the same thing. Having him just walk out and act like nothing ever happened – you're sure something like that should piss you off. Instead, you felt a kind of loss, and that's enough to make you sick. This is wrong. This is bad.

The things you should be feeling are the ones that come lightly. When you kiss him, at the back of your mind a guilt rushes in. You feel unrest. Shaken. It takes a backseat to what's happening right there in front of you, though, and you get far too caught up in the moment to take notice of it until afterwards; even then, though, you turn it into something else: disgust. But even that's in the wrong direction. Instead of feeling revulsion at what should matter – you're kissing your male cousin for gods sake – you only feel disgust at the knowledge that you're using each other. Potentially hurting one another. Making it harder –

And there you go again, refusing to think about things.

The fact is: you are starting to want it. You feel that uncontrollable urge to kiss him, or have him kiss you, and you've no idea how to deal with such a feeling that goes outside of simply finding a way to vent. If that wasn't enough, it's now plain and obvious that he craves that contact with you as much as you're starting to. You've no longer any control over any of this. You know you should end it. You know you should've ended it a while ago. But each time an opportunity comes along, you don't do anything.

And maybe that's what scares you the most.

Review plz? Tell me if there are any mistakes.