I’m writing Kayne and Oliver...yet again...to amuse myself and hopefully get my creativity flowing.

Enjoy, because I do.

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Kayne really can’t help being a mischievous asshole. It’s in his blood, he says.

Or at least when I’m around, it is.

He eyes me over Katie’s back as she kneels to open up her locker, still talking to us (or maybe just me, at least). Something or the other about dancing, I think, but now I wasn’t really paying attention for the sake of distraction. Or for the sake of Kayne, really, but they’re both the same thing.

Not only is he eyeing me now, but he has been for the past thirty seconds. It’s not a simple ‘I like to stare at you because it’s fun and it creeps you out’ kind of stare; no, this is a look that makes my face heat up and my heart pound.

His sea-glass green eyes are practically pinning me down, half-lidded and so focused they seem almost predatory. A small half-smirk curls his lips in a way that I want to be able to fully appreciate, but we’re in public and now is so not the time.

“So the salsa is simply amazing, she says...” Katie continues blithely, and I don’t know how she hasn’t noticed the aura in the air yet. It can’t be this hot in here; she has to feel the look he’s giving me or something.

“Oliver,” Kayne whispers, barely audible above Katie’s chatter. He catches my attention immediately, my gaze on his lips (I’m trying to concentrate on just reading them).

He doesn’t even put his vocal cords into the next thing he says; he simply mouths the words slowly, that smirk growing just the slightest bit.

I want to touch you, he says, and I feel myself blush so hard it makes me wonder if there’s any blood left for the rest of my body or if it’s all in my face. I can’t say anything in return; I’ve got no clue how to react. If I egg him on I don’t know what he’ll do, and if I–well, I can’t really say no. You know how that works.

So I just shut up and don’t say anything, and Kayne reaches out to me like he wasn’t really asking for permission at all (I don’t think he was) and his fingers glide softly over my jaw and then up into my hair. His other hand is on my waist and I want to lean in, but Katie’s in the way. Kayne, though, has a few inches to spare, and his hand comes back up to the small of my back.

And then, with some sudden force, he pulls my torso forward and kisses me hotly and god, how do I react to this? It’s not like I can kiss him back in the middle of the hallway or anything.

That’s ridiculous.

But any sane person would find themselves kissing back like I do (damn my fondness for blond boys!). Maybe with less enthusiasm than me, but hell, he provoked me.

And then he breaks away, leaving me colder for the loss of body heat, and winks at me just as Katie straightens up.

And of course her attention would be on me...

I always get the short end of the (admittedly pretty enjoyable) stick (if you know what I mean).

“Are you even listening–are you okay?” Katie raises her eyebrows at my flushed face and heavy breathing and probably red lips. “Liv, what were you even doing while I was talking?” When she says doing her face takes on a slightly freaked-out expression like ‘please, don’t have been doing anything disgusting I would regret having asked about’.

I’m mildly offended and this comes into my voice when I go to say, “I was just–”

“Never mind!” Katie cuts me off emphatically, shaking her head. “Forget I asked. Let’s just go to class.”

She walks away, still shaking her head, and I gape after her. “But–Katie, I–ugh!

“She’s right, darling,” Kayne says lightly from behind me, and I can tell he’s moving by the direction of his voice. “We’ll be late if you’re just messing around.” And he has the nerve to squeeze my hand as he passes me (although it made my heart throb and my head light).

I growl, trying to stifle my irritation (and a few other feelings), and chase after them both.

--

Done.

I've gotten feedback from those of you who say you like the previous couple of stories about Oliver and Kayne, so here's another for you.