Title: Mine

Disclaimer: don't own them, I'm just having a little fun

Rating: PG-13ish for this chapter will go up to M later

Warnings: instances of non-con (nothing serious)

Characters/Pairings: GaouxMarco

Beta: galeaya

Summary: The Dinosaurs start on the spring tournament after the Christmas Bowl and one night after practice things start getting interesting

Note: none

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As Marco opened the door, his mother looked up from where she was preparing dinner to lightly scold him. "Marco, you're late."

Marco leaned against the wall, eyes closing tiredly. He thought of a lie quickly – he couldn't tell his mother the real reason. "Sorry, Mom. Football practice ran late today."

He heard a sigh and knew what was coming next. "Really dear, someone like you shouldn't play something so dangerous. I'd hate it if something happened to you."

He replied, "Mom I already told you. I play on a team with a very strong line, so it's rare for me to get sacked. Besides I enjoy playing football, and I can take care of myself okay, I'd say." As long as Gaou doesn't try anything else, he amended to himself.

His mother gave up and just turned back to the stove. "Okay then, if you say so."

Marco made his way to his room and shut the door behind him. He was thankful that he had no homework to try to concentrate on, especially after what just happened. He decided to push the memories aside for now. He knew that if he calmed down first, he could make better judgments. A Godfather trilogy night would be the prefect distraction. He slid the first disk into the player and settled down on his bed to enjoy an evening of the Italian mob at their best.

Gaou snarled in frustration as he punched a tree. He had been patiently waiting for an entire half year until that damn manager left. And then, in a matter of five minutes, he managed to scare Marco. All that time and effort – useless!

He punched the tree again and was rewarded by it snapping in two, spraying splinters everywhere. He might not like the situation now, but he could change that. He would change that. A feral grin stretched across his face as he continued walking home in a better mood, much to the relief of all the trees and the buildings around him.

As the ending credits of the third movie rolled, Marco could only stare blankly at the screen. So now that he had finished watching, he was supposed to calmly think over what happened earlier: when he had been pinned to the field and been terrified of Gaou – been terrified that Gaou was really planning to rape him. Only to somehow get away free. Let free actually, but why had Gaou done that? And he had said something about the only thing he would have claimed was Marco's fear. What did he mean by that? Was he telling the truth? Or was he trying to draw him into a false sense of calm before attacking again? For the next time, maybe – next time in a place that wouldn't be so much in the open, so Marco would have no chance of rescue. But that wasn't Gaou's style of thinking – he wouldn't care if someone saw them like that – so why stop? He could hear the blood pumping in his ears as he continued to think of possibilities that answered nothing. Hadn't the purpose of the movies been to calm himself down? That hadn't worked at all. He gave a nervous laugh.

Everything was just so messed up. God, he had practice tomorrow, too. But there was no school at least, because it was Sunday. That was good, but practice! On that field. With Gaou. Not good, not good. What to do, what to do? Ah, of course. That might work. He'd make tomorrow a stamina building day, and he could set up different running routes for everyone. Yes, and then he and Gaou wouldn't even have to cross paths at all!

He pulled out a map from the desk drawer and started studying it. He decided to make three different routes, to disguise the fact he was really just trying to avoid Gaou. Yes, he could do this! He marked the routes down and started grouping people according to their would-be routes. He'd call several people from different routes and tell them the routes and get them to pass it on. It was perfect. He wouldn't even need to talk to him. He reached for his phone and made the necessary calls before taking his dinner dishes downstairs.

His mother was washing dishes when he came down. She looked up at him and asked, "What's wrong dear? You have that look in your eyes. You're not pushing yourself too hard are you in sports are you? Or are you stressed because you have school and that tournament is starting up too? You could drop it you know."

'No actually it's because I'm trying to figure out how to avoid a 6'7" lineman who can lift more than I weigh, who is probably twice as wide as I am, and wants to engage in sexual activities with me, possibly without my consent.' But of course he didn't say that out loud – he just smiled at his mother and replied, "Oh just planning a new strategy. Wondering if it'll work, that's all. Good night mother. Sleep well."

Giving her a quick kiss on the cheek, Marco headed to his room again and stripped to his boxers before climbing into bed. A light sheet was all he needed for the unusually warm spring night. He starred up at his ceiling as if he would find some guidance there, but as usual the plaster stayed silent. It was probably shy. Finally Marco drifted off to sleep and dreamed of everyone playing football in animal costumes.

Gaou's mood went downhill again when he got the phone call about the change in tomorrow's practice. He wasn't stupid; he knew that Marco would be running one of the other two routes. But even if Marco was able to avoid him for one day, he wouldn't be able to avoid him forever. Giving him some time to think about what he'd said might even be a positive thing. Or not, considering that Marco was probably working himself into a tense bundle of nerves right now. Oh well. He needed to stop worrying so much, anyway. He turned off the lights and laid down for bed. The family cat, Egg, wandered in, following a bridge of light from the hall. It jumped up onto the bed and rubbed up against him, purring and begging for attention. He pushed it away, but the feline seemed unperturbed by the brush off. The cat settled down next to him on the pillow, its body curling into a tight ball. He gave in and petted it till he dropped off to sleep.

Kisaragi watched Gaou as they jogged through the park. He could tell something was off. Marco had sounded shaken up on the phone last night. And Gaou was being more taciturn than usual – even for him. Hmm, and it seemed like for once, Marco wasn't paired with his two "arms". Well, if this didn't reek of conflict between those two, nothing would. He decided to ask Gaou. "So what exactly did you say or do to Marco after we all left?"

He looked at him sharply and Kisaragi smiled disarmingly. "Come on tell me. It can't be bad if you did it. In fact I'm sure it was beautiful."

Gaou rolled his eyes "Tell that to Marco."

"So he is avoiding you. How long do you think it'll last?"

He smiled predatorily as he said, "He can't run forever."

Kisaragi laughed quietly "Let's just hope Marco realizes that too."

Marco sneezed. Someone must have been talking about him. He hoped it wasn't anyone too strong. Or Gaou, he really hoped that too. It was strange to think of Gaou as a strong person he wanted to avoid, instead of a strong person on his side. He didn't like it. But what else could he do? Maybe this was something that if he ignored long enough would go away. Who knew what Gaou had been thinking about before he woke up? He might possibly have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. It might also have been because he was squirming too much. Gaou could have been thinking about a good fight or ... something. Marco had no clue what got the lineman off, and he really didn't want to know.

He sped up his pace as he followed the road, if he had that much energy to contemplate stuff like that, he wasn't training hard enough. And he should start thinking about strategies to use against their first tournament opponent, the Chameleons. Their only good player last year had been Rui, so with him gone, it was possible that they had no strong players left. It'd be a good first match to get the first year's feet wet, to try new strategies.

After his run, he went home and took his football strategy books and started reading them, marking down plays that would be good for his team. He did this all day, up until it was time for bed. That night, he slept soundly; thoughts of Gaou escaping even from his subconscious.

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