It's one-hundred and nine degrees in this crowded room. No room to breathe, with walls as cold as a gallery.

Barnaby's wide eyes roamed the gorgeous, artful room around him. Bloody tiles, smoky walls, It was another one of those hero parties, but this time they went all out. Ribbons of silk hung in rainbows from the ceiling and twined together with the chandeliers. They had decided to hold the event at special hall on the outskirts of town – this was Barnaby's big night.

Barnaby's poor heart fluttered anxiously as he leaned farther and farther away from the close, chatting reporters that absolutely swarmed. He felt his hairline glistening with light drops of sweat and the unconscious feeling that he reeked under his suit was on the forefront of his mind, no matter how much cologne Agnes had poured on him. This was the largest meeting of his life – Maverick was watching over his think glasses, a proud smile on his big lips. He felt absolutely trapped, a rabbit in a cage – and this time, there was no carrot.

This is no place for me.

Kotetsu was floating freely around, dancing out of the way of people that did not recognize him – even with his mask on. Although he was in constant peripheral vision, he was no where near close enough to Barnaby for comfort. And however much he disliked the old guy, he was the only crutch at the moment. Flashing cameras busied themselves to his better side, and Barnaby closed his eyes. This was unbelievable - just yesterday he was grinning foolishly at news paper reporters and striking poses for the fans. Today, well. He just... did not feel good.

It was kind of simple - lately nothing felt good. Especially sleep. There was no such thing as a good nights rest anymore, or sweet dreams. They were far from sweet, and he would wake up in the night, seizing the blankets with his slim fingernails, clenching his teeth hard enough to shatter glass. Then the breathing would come – oh yes, the breathing. The hot, irrational breathing and tugging pains at his sides. All from the dreams. The Dreams. Dreams that would absolutely, one hundred percent haunt him throughout the day. All day.

Such hard faces set in smoke. The smell lingers in my clothes.

Barnaby's nose twitched, he smelt dinner's luscious scent fan its way past his nose and his stomach yowled. The tiles beneath his feet reminded him of a viscous fire, and he became hyper aware of his sponsors looking at him gravely, blending in to the foggy colored walls like middle aged chameleons.

Just as he felt he would rip his suit off from the unconditional volume of hot air, Keith glided to his side, helmet hiding his surely smiling face. "Only a few more minutes, they usher the reporters out as soon as the banquet begins."

Barnaby's tight chest did not loosen, however his temperature seemed to drop slightly at the thought of all those pushy people be-ridding themselves. What was not comforting however, was how relaxed Kotetsu seemed to look – as always. The older man's slender body was propped up against an empty table, his mind clearly in space. He was hanging around the back of the room, his amber eyes trained hard on the faint electrical exit sign across the room. His mask hid some of the emotion in his eyebrows, but Barnaby easily guessed that he was not thrilled to be here, either.

Their boss had made them both swear an oath, (mainly for Kotetsu's sake,) that they would not leave unexpectedly. Half of Barnaby was relieved at the thought of not being left alone in this fiasco, but currently Kotetsu's presence was purely neutral. He was doing nothing. Nothing at all. He not once looked over at his partner, nor did he look over at the loud crowd that jumped like mad dogs for his attention.

It's a bad night to be alone, but that's the way it goes.

This was Kotetsu's way of putting up with events like this, and that meant Barnaby was alone. Again. Abandoned. Forsaken. Forlorn. But then again, when in his life had he not been? Every man for himself. This was just another one of those times, not any different from the usual. This was civilized warfare and he was unarmed... it was a bad night to be alone, but that's the way it goes.

Barnaby escaped the crowd of photographers as they resisted the bouncers on their way out. 'It's only one night – one sponsor-filled, sponsor-pleasing, sponsor-worshiping night.' He feebly convinced his aching heart. 'I didn't even sign up for sponsors like this – Albert initially promised me that I'd be my own independent hero... and I never signed up for a worn-out sidekick, either.'

Kotetsu took a seat at the dinner table as the crowd control pushed the public back out the doors. Barnaby was quick to snag the chair beside him – God forbid he had to share leg space with Nathan. Kotetsu was oddly quiet as the other sat down and Barnaby scanned his face. Soft chestnut beard, lowered eyelids. He was staring hard across the table, thoughtfully, but there was no trace of strain ... more like intent.

Barnaby gulped as a large crested plate was set in front of him. Spaghetti and meatballs, mozzarella shavings sizzling to a melt. It smelled delicious, but underneath the table Kotetsu's leg was bouncing up and down, up and down, up and down. Barnaby felt irritation pile up within him. He glared towards his partner, and Kotetsu's leg came to a halt. 'What's up with all of these funny looks?' Barnaby wondered vaguely, just as another, different, expression slid across the others face; never once did he look up at Barnaby.

"A toast to such a new success! " Maverick's voice rang out loud and gruffly. To Barnaby's surprise, Kotetsu stood quickly and raised his glass first. His chest swelled as the room noisily followed and cheers and claps - accompanied the clink of crystal glasses. He felt his cheeks light heavily on fire, but he would never admit to it. Especially to that old guy.

After dinner the rich made themselves cozy, wrapped thickly in conversation of yachts and sponsors. Barnaby felt his eyelids drooping heavily and thought faintly of cartoons with toothpicks for that kind of situation. Not that he had watched cartoons all that much when he was a boy, he had been busy crying for the majority of his childhood.

Stretching, he laid his head back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. 'My mind has been working nonstop for the past two weeks, I need a break..." his eyes wondered to the exit sign and he caught glimpse of Kotetsu leaned up against the door, waiting desperately to get out,. '...or at least a chance to catch my breath.'

Barnaby forced his eyes closed and searched for his partner within his memory. 'He's probably lost out there in that sea tonight... if only we were really fish, not just bait.'

"Bunny."

Barnaby's gut leaped. Leaped and flipped and twisted and road a speeding roller coaster around his body cavity. The only organ working harder than his wrenching stomach was his squeezing heart. Squeezing, panting heart. Red, slippery and alive.

Stop it.

Barnaby fought harshly against his leg , inching underneath the table towards his partner's jumpy limbs the drunker he got. Sound barreled itself against his eardrums but the only sound he heard was the,

pump, pump, pump-

of his blue turned red veins. His heart rate screamed to new heights and he buried his head in his hands, mouth dry like a vacuum. Ivan sat next to him, leaned in, "You okay Barnaby?"

"What's wrong lil' Bunny? Something the matter?" Kotetsu teased across the table and Antonio choked on his own humor.

Barnaby grunted and shook himself, forcing his eyes in the other direction. "Yeah, feel a little stressed out tonight." Ivan's gaze lingered for a moment and then he took a long drink. "That's why you're at the bar, to get rid of the stress." Origami slid the drink toward him. "Relax."

It was easier said than done with that bouncy moron across from him. Kotetsu was in a laughing fit with Antonio across the table, both of their beers flying across the wood and all over their friends. The older man stretched his legs to full length and rocked back and forth, gut wrenching giggles enrapturing him. He looked so much younger when he was happy, free. Drunk.

Drunk.

His feet tapped Barnaby's and the blonde shook violently away.

Stop it.

Barnaby's skin crawled, each rock, back and forth, had his jaw clenched tighter, pant legs catching. Booths were the worst seats to occupy when trying for personal space, that was one thing Barnaby could take away from this night.

"And than – AND THAN I said – I – Wild Tiger! - HAVE COME TO ARREST YOU FOR YOUR HANOUS DEEDS! SURRENDER NOW OR PAY THE PRICE!" Kotetsu's booming laugh sang out shrilly and it strangled Bunny's airway – stopped his mind, his lungs - and than, not too much later, it stopped his good judgment.

Roughly, Barnaby kneed his partner under the table, but instead of pulling away, - oh yes - the Devil got the best of him. The very best. Jammed his leg tightly between Kotetsu's legs, his knee lodged in places it very well shouldn't have been.

His legs... my leg between his legs...

Kotetsu had stopped laughing very abruptly. Too abruptly, but alcohol was on his side – no one else cared.

The first thing that took him were those shimmering amber eyes. Shimmering, confused, beautiful scrutiny shone like it never had before. The perfect kind of scrutiny. Barnaby felt Kotetsu pull himself away but he was hot on pursuit – one step ahead of the game. Biting his lower lip, he shot his partner – for the most fleeting of moments – a baby blue look that killed,

KILLED,

like a crossbow. A look that whined a thousand words and leaked purple velvet. A look he had not had to use on a middle aged man before.

Quickly Kotetsu shuffled underneath the table and darted his eyes away, panic rising sickly on his swarthy face. Barnaby liked it.

Barnaby loved it.

"Bunny..."

Bunny.

"Bunny, wake up."

Barnaby jolted. Kotetsu was leaning over him softly, hand on his shoulder. "You started snoring, decided I'd come save you the embarrassment."

"Get your hand off me," Barnaby bit and swiped at the warmth on his shoulder. Panting, he rubbed his eyes roughly and jumped to his shaky feet, erasing what he could that was burned behind his eyes.

"You look completely sick, Barnaby,"

Thump-

"I'm not sick, I just want to go home."

Thump-

"Fair enough but we don't always get what we want."

Thump, thump-

"Whatever." Barnaby gasped and faced away from Kotetsu, his breathing so irregular he felt like a kid again. A kid going through puberty all over again. Glancing downwards he leaned against a wall, "I just need to get out of here."

"I'll take you home as soon as this is over."

THUMP-

"I can drive myself. Just because you're old doesn't mean I'm a kid." Barnaby snarled. Sudden flashes of Kotetsu running his softened leather hands down his stomach hit him like a concussion and he coughed. "Excuse me,"

He trotted away in a kind of panic, feeling his partner's gaze searing through him with every uneasy step. 'What is with this idiot.' he scuffed his shoes against the ballroom floor. These dreams made him uneasy, uncomfortable, in an accurate state of vexation - and yet he realized with a hint of guilt that this was not fair in the slightest.

Kotetsu was not at all planting these ideas in his head, (he physically could not do that...) so what did that mean? He wanted it? Craved it, or something? Hell no. Not something as gay as that. Not someone as silly as him. He decided – as he felt his pants go numb – that he could not think about this any longer - not after two glasses of wine. He made his way towards the punch bowl in complete desperation.

Oh how I'd like to punch this bowl. He mused, but he had no breath left to laugh, no breath left to waste.

And to think, Kotetsu has no idea.

What a total dummy.