A/N: All characters written down belong to their respectful owner (Yana Toboso).

Cat and Mouse.

Denying it would have been foolish, would it not?

The way those eyes stared at him whenever they crossed path, it was surreal. Diederich wondered what went through the mind of the possessor of that pair of brown eyes, warm-colored. Outstanding with that ivory pale skin and cobalt hair, messy yet beautiful no matter what set of clothes the man decided to wear that day. And that smile, that warm and heart melting smile that man gave to those whoever spoke to him; Vincent Phantomhive was truly a majestic being, both beautiful and evil. Never did they cross words unless necessary, their conversations always kept in check, as if rehearsed. None of them said more or less than what was needed and their faces gave nothing away to those were close in that moment.

They couldn't.

Being trapped in a world where rules applied, yet at the same time anything was accepted when it came to winning the game. Oh, Vincent simply loved to play games, especially when it involved confusing poor Diederich. Said man would always show confusion whenever the earl decided to play a little game together, not to mention, deceiving to think there was a chance the German had to win. There were two types of games they played.

The games played at day and the games played at night.

Because to them it had always been a game; a game of cat and mouse. Diederich had always considered him the caught, chasing Phantomhive to the ends of the Earth, but alas, it wasn't until one certain night –the night they decided to play chase– the German found himself cornered, at the mercy of the Queen's Watchdog.

"You're mine."

The sound of bodies clashing against one another could be heard across the room, a series of moans and groans following close.

Diederich stared at those earth-colored eyes, his own teary by all the heat and sweat thanks to their recent actions. He grunted as he felt the other, hitting right in his prostate. Vincent was meticulous, always knowing where to hit in order to rip a moan out of the German's throat. The Earl found it amusing, how a scary-looking man on the outside could tremble and fall apart once he was in the arms of Vincent Phantomhive. No matter how cold Diederich would seem to others, Vincent could pull out the lost and dependent side of him and twist his will to his advantage. Because Diederich was his.

"Vincent– -"

"Shh…"

The Earl cooed, pressing his finger against the panting man below him. He had halted to take a better look at the German soldier that laid in bed. Vincent licked his lower lip as he scanned Diederich up and down; the latter's cheeks flustered as his forehead was covered in sweat, damping locks of hair that hid those disorientated eyes, his lips were parted, plumped and aroused. Going down the Queen's Watchdog could see small yet visible lumps, both red and purple, as well as a few bite marks; as for his chest, it was well formed and built, shinning due to the sweat that covered his body, and not to mention the evident erection that was pressed against the younger's chest. Vincent was pleased with his work.

"You look so vulnerable right now, Diederich." The Earl chuckled, tracing patterns on the other's abdomen and obtaining a growl as response from the man.

"S–Shut up, Phantomhive." The German hissed, giving the beautiful man a halfhearted glare. He disliked being teased, especially by that man. Diederich had pride, despite it all, and said pride could be easily crumbled when it came to Vincent, something that the elder did not see as fair, despite such thing he had no right to give an opinion, not when the evil Nobleman took control over their game.

Once they had finished their latest round, the Earl laid right next to the other. Vincent hummed and leaned forward, resting casually over the German's chest. He enjoyed the latter's company, it helped him erase every thought in his mind; his responsibilities as the Queen's Watchdog. The Earl wanted them out and Diederich was the only one who seemed to make that happen. Whenever they were together afterhours the younger male would take off his mask and claim the elder as his own one more night, their game of Cat and Mouse coming to an end after they would share bed.

"You are losing you touch, my dear Diederich. That would make twenty-three out of thirty." Vincent smirked, eyeing the elder's face grow a darker shade of red. Said man scoffed and averted his gaze. Of course. The German had began to lose in their encounters after English had learned about Diederich; every weakness said man had, Vincent knew and knew well enough how to use this to his advantage, eventually winning almost every time they decided to succumb into the waves of passion, lust and desire.

"Tomorrow shall end differently!"

"Is that a promise?"

Diederich's eyes widened, his face heating up at the sight of that charming smile. He bit his lower lip, he would always end up at a loss of words whenever Phantomhive showed him that smile; it was his smile, that trademark smile that could melt anyone yet the Earl would only show it to Diederich. He could never deny Vincent's wishes, no matter how selfish and ridiculous they were, he was that loyal to the Queen's Watchdog, and the latter knew very well such fact.

"Most definitely."

"Oh?" Vincent raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over the German's chest as he rested his left cheek over his forearm. "But I thought you enjoyed being the mouse, my dear Diederich."

Foolish German, he couldn't see that once they started their game of chase the parts of cat and mouse had already been split. Even not saying it aloud it was evident to notice behind that innocent and charming smile of the beautiful and evil Nobleman.