A/N: Omg this is like my first ZeroXYuuki fanfic ever!!! :O .... i cant help it i just love this couple to death.....though its just impossible to deny Kaname's sexiness ;D ... which um probably expains what Yuuki's doing throughout this story....XP

Zero's a bit of a perv in this one.....okay scratch that....a HUGEASS perv in this one ;D .... but ahhhhh i love Perv-Zero....XD...he's just so much fun to write about!!!! ^_^

I dont rily know if you can call these two OOC in this one....but it's what probably goes on behind the scenes? so idk ....

Um...bit of a warning....this story is extremely smutty...not lemony, just extremely smutty........i dont really relate well to explicit lemons....tasteful love scenes=my kinda thing lol ....but its probably the closest they're gonna get....for now XD ...

This is like my first ZeroXYuuki fanfic ever and i really, really love this couple so please .... review if you like it =)

Disclaimer: No own VK. If that happened, Kaname would...um....just be Yuuki's extremely sexyfine brother XP ... and a bit of a player too XD ... and Zero and Yuuki would be together....omg STOP! I DO NOT OWN THE MANGA/ANIME/WHATEVER!! IT ALL BELONGS TO MATSURI-SAN!!! ^_^

Hope you like it ;D And dont forget to review!!! ^_^

He knew he shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't, shouldn't, SHOULDN'T. It was, by nature, so damn wrong…so…so perverted almost—almost?—a breach of trust so high it made the sweat that had broken along his flesh turn cold with dread. Every gasp, every soft moan escaping his lips, every restless spasm of involuntary motion seemed so wrong…so very, very wrong.

He shouldn't be doing this. He really, really shouldn't be doing this.

But as he stood there, hand resting against the wall by the partially-open door, the other itching to release the tightening pressure around his pants—he'd never felt anything more…more right. It was just so…so perfect. So damn perfect.

And she'd never know…would she?

He didn't even know how and when he'd reached there—standing, frozen, by the bathroom door, chest suddenly deprived of air at the sight his eye—inescapably—caught then. Stupid girl! he remembered dragging the thought out, forming the words consciously in his mind in a pitiful attempt at concealing it with the air of a concerned older brother—and knowing that it was not was what he intended either. Stupid girl! Always forgetting to shut the damn door properly! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

And the more his head fought to put life into the hand reaching for the knob and fasten the door shut—even feeling the texture of the terrycloth folds of the towel resting against his hand, the towel they'd hang outside the door because of the broken lock the Chairman always forgot to get fixed—the more his groin throbbed, the more the heat pooled in his belly, the more his breath began to abandon him…rooting him onto the spot, rendering him motionless, eyes fixed onto her. Stupid…girl…helplessly, he held his breath, trying to stem the wild jolting in his chest as he watched—quite helplessly too—unable to look away. Stupid…girl…

I'm fucked. I am so fucked. I am so fucking fucked.

She was…beautiful. So…so beautiful. Jet-black hair with that alluring gleam of crimson plastered now to the porcelain of her forehead with sweat. Head thrown back, lips parted in silent contentment, swathes of color colouring the fine pale skin of her cheeks—broken now into a feverish sweat. Pale. He noticed now how pale she was…a paleness free of the pallid languor of one ailing, but gleaming like that of an angel's—suffused now with the fresh gleam of blood, a soft stream of gasps escaping those full, small lips.

It was her face he'd noticed first—steeling his eyes resolutely away from the exposed skin below the creamy expanse of her throat—that same throat his fangs had latched onto and sucked the blood out of so many, many times…a shudder of guilt. He tried to move, tried to force some life into his limbs, and failed. No amount of guilt, no amount of awkwardness could have him move away from the spot his feet had, quite conveniently, chosen to glue onto.

It had only been when her hand moved upwards—a pale flash of smooth white skin, causing a wet slap of water against the slick chrome tile of the bathtub—that his eyes moved from her face to her exposed breasts.

A low moan rose in his throat, hand curling slightly against the wall, thighs bending involuntarily to ease the pressure building up in a throbbing ache in his groin. How many times had he pictured her like this in his mind? How many times had he so violently hungered for it? How many times—while drinking her blood, while feeling her body pressed so intimately against his—had he felt that familiar surge of blinding arousal flare through his veins as a pleasurable miasma, threatening to have him lose himself altogether?

Stupid…girl…should have…locked the…damn…door…

She was…she was perfect. There was no other word to describe it. He'd long thought her to have a slim, girlish figure—her only large attributes being her eyes, and—he had never told her this outwardly—her heart…a heart he longed for so selfishly…so madly, jealously for himself, even though he knew that he should not have longed for such a thing. But now, watching her like this…was he ever going to be able to look her in the eye again?

She was just…just so damn perfect. As awkward as her position was—a limb hooked onto either side of the bathtub, head resting against the back, the water sloshing dangerously low, exposing completely her upper torso—he had never seen anything more beautiful. An image drawn up from the darkest recesses of his fevered, desire-riddled mind—something he had thought only his dreams of the obsessive yearning she so easily drew from his heart, could ever bring to life.

Throat suddenly as dry as a desert, he leaned forward, feeling his mouth fall open with pleasured astonishment.

Her tiny palm was kneading into her breast, fingers closing over a soft pink nipple, teasing it—head thrown back, eyes closed in pleasure, hair falling over her shoulder as she thrashed about, sloshing the water slightly, body bucking slightly against the motions of her other hand, resting between her parted thighs. Trying and failing to swallow, his eyes travelled downwards, following the direction of her other hand—a hand he, disappointingly, could not see, hidden as it was by the water…though by the way her thighs clenched over the sides of the bathtub, he could guess its motions.

And by the way her head had begun to thrash against the bathtub…he knew, he could understand somehow what she felt. Lost in the throes of ecstasy. Knowing what it was like to not give a damn. To lose yourself so swiftly, so inexorably to a desire burnt away by the daylight.

He had never thought that she, that Yuuki…his sweet, innocent Yuuki, with her wide, innocent eyes and sweet, shrill voice scolding him for skipping his classes, was…was now a woman. Her body could no longer be called girlish—her figure now curved and rounded in places he had claimed, touched, tasted only in his dreams…a broadening somewhat to her hips and shoulders, a frame no longer slim and girlish but full, rounded with the softness of a woman, her breasts neither too big nor small—just perfect.

He had begun to gasp softly—knowing that she would not hear him, lost in the blinding haze of pleasure so overcoming every sense then—hands falling almost unconsciously to the tightening arousal over his pants, unhooking his belt with a feverish speed to allow himself some kind of release. It did nothing to help. While loosening the pressure somehow over his steadily-awakening manhood, it did little to relieve the excruciating throb of denied arousal that, leaving him unable to take his eyes off her, soon sent all the blood left in his body to pool in a heated rush to his groin, making him gasp, feeling as though his head was going to split with the torturous ecstasy watching her caused him.

Her movements were now faster, palm rubbing harder—almost roughly, grazing her breasts, pale body beginning to buck and thrust against her hand, making the water slosh over the edges—its slosh against the tiles now quietening. The only sounds that filled the air now was the slick slap of flesh against flesh, and the soft stream of moans and gasps of wanton, pleasured abandon escaping her parted lips.

The water had drained away almost completely now. His eyes widened, jaw dropping of its own accord, hand moving unconsciously to his hardened manhood—jerking it out of his underwear, fist beginning to pump himself with hard, fast, lightning-like strokes—teeth and fangs alike gritting into his lips and drawing blood as he sought to bite back the moans he was sure would escape him were he not to have controlled himself.

The water had sloshed away…leaving her completely exposed.

The cool bite of air against her skin seemed to arouse her even more, making her hands knead and grind even harder against her breasts, the single solitary finger pushed into her womanhood now turning into two…then three fingers…pumping, gliding, stroking herself, an involuntary "Unnhh!" of pleasure tearing past her lips.

It almost undid him—that moan…making his fist pump his tumescent, blood-hardened arousal even harder, biting into his fist and feeling as though he could scream with fevered longing at the sight of her pleasuring herself. Oh god, Yuuki…Yuuki…he wanted her. He wanted her so badly. Wanted her. Needed her. Needed her with him, by him, inside him…needed to hear her calls out his name, needed her to want him as much as he wanted her…

In just a moment, he could so easily forget that she did not love him…at least, not the way he loved her. In just a moment, he could so easily forget that she saw him as no more than an older brother…a friend, a protector—never a lover. In just a moment…he could so easily forget that no matter how, what, when, why, where the situation may change…that he could never truly win Kurosu Yuuki's love.

In just a moment, he could so easily forget her infatuation with that…that pureblood—that vile, manipulative bastard he hated with a fire so deep, so wild, so uncontrollable that it astonished him somehow that he had not raised his Bloody Rose yet and fired a shot into the bloodsucker's perfect face. The pureblood king. The prince of shadows.

The one that Yuuki…his Yuuki—his sweet, beautiful Yuuki whom he loved from the darkest depths of his soul…the one that Yuuki loved.

Kuran Kaname.

A hazing rush of fevered arousal. Jealousy was a provocation he found too sweet to resist, making him grip himself even harder, pumping his weeping erection until he could almost scream from the agonized ecstasy of it all. Kuran hadn't ever seen his precious girl like this, had he? Kuran hadn't ever had the chance to see Yuuki as something different from the fragile, precious rose he'd so tried to protect always, had he? Kuran hadn't ever seen Yuuki's unclothed body…had he? Had he?

A surge of wild, sweet triumph fired through his veins—making him gasp softly as Yuuki's whispers, as her gasps of contentment turned now into soft, moans—fingers digging into her full, soft breasts, the glide and stroke of her fingers against her sex now beginning to drip white arousal over her thighs. "Oh…oh, god…ahhh!"

Zero had begun to gasp softly, still biting into his wrist—holding his own moans in check as best as he could…knowing that Yuuki would probably not hear him, so deliciously, inextricably lost as she was in the motions of her own pleasuring…as well as the slosh of water. Oh god, Yuuki…I…I want you…I want you so badly…I need you, Yuuki…I need to fuck you…here…here and now…

And yet, despite the blinding haze of arousal beginning to overcome him—his dark, swollen tip dewing with anticipation…yet…and yet, the thought lingered. Somehow, he couldn't drive it out of his mind.

Whose face did she see behind those closed, dark-lashed eyelids? Whose eyes returned her clouded, desire-riddled gaze? Whose touch did her fevered movements so long for? Whose hands did she so wish claimed her then…as she so claimed herself?

Ahh…ah, oh god…oh god, no…no, please…he clenched his teeth as all arousal—suddenly, inexorably—began to abandon him, making his twin orbs contract as his manhood—once hardened with pleasure and throbbing at the slightest touch, began to lose all rigidity, turning painfully sensitive…now a touch more agonizing than pleasuring. Oh…oh, god! Yuuki…YUUKI! Yuuki! Please!…don't do this to me, Yuuki—please! Please!

Zero bent, groaning softly, slowing his motions, feeling the familiar arc of white seed spiral into his hand, the muscles of his groin clenching painfully as his body arched involuntary into a pleasureless release. Oh god…oh god, why? Why? Why did it have to end like…like this…

His pale silver hair was now plastered to his neck and shoulders with sweat, school shirt sticking to his sweat-slicked body like second skin, nearly doubled over with the power of his release…gasping for breath, wincing at the pain. His manhood was agonizingly sensitive now, and it was nothing short of torture pulling back on his underwear and pants, backing away from the slight crack in the bathroom door—biting his lip, feeling a hot, forbidden something suddenly prick into life behind his eyes.

Now, there was no more arousal. Now there was no more pleasure…only guilt. Those familiar surges of dark, inexorable, agonizing guilt at his indulgence in an act so forbidden…so taboo—lusting after his own adoptive sister—that so threatened to overwhelm him completely, making him clench teeth onto his fist again—a sudden heaving agony coiling a dark vein in his chest that made him feel horribly close to tears.

Stop it—he told himself disgustedly. Came all over your pants, and now you wanna cry about it? It's not your fault Kuran's the only one Yuuki'll ever…ever…But the thought was enough to drain the life away from his limbs, making him slide down the floor, crumpling—feeling suddenly like that broken, bleeding boy who had had his life torn to pieces mere years ago…that boy that Yuuki had nursed back to living, given him a reason to live…that boy that had grown to love her, to desire her so deeply…so foolishly…

Zero felt his arms slide up, hugging himself, feeling a sudden cold tremor wrack his frame. Not me…it was a miserable melody playing again and again in his head like a broken radio. Not me. Never me. Never me. Never me…ne, Yuuki?It was a statement of the cruellest irony—to not even have heard or seen her rejection, but to know it…to know it so inexplicably. A heartless mockery. For those several moments that he sat there…Zero felt as though something within him was beginning to break.

From where he sat now, he could no longer see her…but he could sense somehow that her movements had reached that point mere moments away from the final release. Even her moans had turned into the shrill, whining, pleasured mewl of one helpless to her own desire.

And even despite the temptation, he denied himself harshly, turning away from the bathroom, beginning to walk—though, quite of his own volition, slowly. He didn't need to listen to Yuuki screaming Kuran's name. He didn't need to feel as he would, were he to actually hear it…the same wild anguish, the same feeling as though his heart was so…so close to shattering, the same cold, melancholic jealousy. He didn't. He couldn't. But why was he walking so slowly then?

Yuuki's release was as beautifully-vocalized as it must have been a sight, ringing in his ears as the sweetest melody he was already storing in that corner of his brain—to be retrieved and viewed later with secretive pleasure…perversely, Zero chased away the thought, clenching his fists, leaning against the wall by the bathroom, gritting his teeth. Oh…god…Yuuki…closing his eyes, he began to walk away, not wanting to hurt himself further—

—when Yuuki's moans began to turn into…a name.

Zero paused, terrified anticipation clenching his gut, not even daring to believe it…

"Ze…Zero! Oh…oh, Zero! Zero…Zero…Zero! Zero…oh, god…ahhh..."

A final moan. A great gusting sigh, and then the slosh of water as she sank back into it, panting softly beneath her breath from the violent pleasure of her release.

For a moment, all time seemed to stop—him merely standing there, blinking stupidly against the narrow triangle of silver light escaping past the partially-closed bathroom door…his thoughts confused, jarring, emerging from his brain with a fool's slowness…

That's…my name…I think…

Zero. She screamed my name. Zero. My name. My name. My name. My name. My name. Not Kuran's. Not Kuran's. Not Kuran's. Not…

Is this…is this a dream?

Am I fucking high or something?

Wha…what…what the…I…I…Yuu…Yuuki? Yuuki?

And like a light-bulb clicking to life in his brain…a rippling wave of exhilaration engulfed him, making his feet suddenly weightless on the ground.

She said my name? My name? MY NAME??!"EAT MY DUST, KURAN!"

And for probably the first time in his life after the Hiou pureblood's attack…Kiryuu Zero punched the air, leaping perhaps a foot off his feet—before running down the hallways, whooping like an idiot.

A/N: (*whew!!!) omg im done!!! Poor Zero, having to angst all about it...i just decided to give him a happy ending ;D

Honestly, I've made Yuuki sooo oblivious, haven't I? All this time she just wasn't aware of it!! Like AT ALL!! Does that even happen??? =S

I'm glad if you could read this entire thing....review if you liked it, kay? ^_^