Title: Heart on His Sleeve
Rating: PG? PG 13 for a non descriptive kiss? BOY/BOY
Summary: The situation was completely opposed to the natural order of things. Like having Romeo give a soliloquy from the balcony and have Juliet be the stalker from the shadows. Ridiculous really. Hatori was supposed to be in charge. He had to be in charge. It was just… right.
Disclaimer: I own not Fruits Basket. Don't even entertain the idea of that. Don't. Really.

Hatori fidgeted anxiously. This was hardly a situation he was accustomed to, better to leave these feeble emotions to those who had the time for them. Try as he might, though, they wouldn't leave him alone. A nagging sensation that something wasn't quite right. At least, not in the manner he knew things to be. Emotions were wearying things, unnecessary in the grand scheme of life. Why bother? Hatori sighed and scribbled on his paper thoughtlessly, drawing vague shapes and letters. The scribbling only added to his mind's turmoil. He laid his arms and head on the desk heavily. He'd most likely have ink stains on his face, but it didn't seem to matter much right then. What would he think? Having this much power over me. Hatori thought this over with a confused smile on his face. He'd enjoy it, of course.

The situation was completely opposed to the natural order of things. Like having Romeo give a soliloquy from the balcony and have Juliet be the stalker from the shadows. Ridiculous really. Hatori was supposed to be in charge. He had to be in charge. It was just… right. His musings were interrupted by the bell. School bell, Hatori thought through his haze. He peeled the paper off of his face, noting the smudges before simply putting it away. So apathetic. At least, he wished.

"Toriiiiii," a voice called from outside the classroom. Unmistakable even to those not infatuated with him. "Ayame," Hatori replied as he stood. He felt a minor pang go through him when he said the name. "Ayame," he repeated softly as the object of his desires skipped into the room, oblivious to his friend's thoughts.

"You have pen on your face," Ayame said tactfully as he neared Hatori.

"Don't you have Shigure to bother? Wrecking havoc on innocent souls and the like," Hatori said. He steadily made his way to the door.

"Gure's sick," Ayame pouted. "At least, that's what he said. He didn't sound all that sick though," Ayame said as he followed Hatori out of the room. "He's most likely writing his famed dime store smut, the pervert." He made a face and walked through the halls with Hatori.

They hadn't made it far before Ayame took Hatori's arm and dragged him to the boy's washroom. "You usually care about you appearance," Ayame said, dragging his friend to the sink. "So proper," he sighed and faked a swoon. Hatori smiled slightly. "Are you…? Is that… a smile?" Ayame asked incredulously. He stood behind the other with a look of mock surprise on his face.

"It happens quite often when you're not around," Hatori replied dryly. A lie, yes, but it hardly mattered. He looked into the mirror and saw the numbers imprinted on his cheek. Forty-two, he thought wryly. It should be the answer. Numbers were much easier to comprehend, with definitive answers. He reached a hand up to feel the marks. Dry. Would that be easier or harder to wash off?

"Ayame," he began, turning to face him, but he was quickly assaulted by the other boy, pushed against a wall. Ayame's hands rested on Hatori's shoulders. This would've been a relatively average moment had Hatori been Shigure. Or had Ayame been less serious. Or had they not been kissing. Hatori's eyes widened and Ayame looked at him from a very close distance, before he pulled away. He smiled and Hatori gaped.

"Why?" He started to speak but Ayame quickly silenced him. "I wanted to kiss you. So I decided to do so. It felt nice." Hatori agreed but could not find the words to say so. "It's nice seeing you speechless," Ayame said and moved closer, perfectly aligned with Hatori. He pointed at Hatori's cuff before he brought his mouth closer to the other boy's ear,

"And I like to see that you're wearing your heart on your sleeve."