MOAR PR0N PLZKTHNX

Another cute little smutty oneshot for all you yaoi-fanatics.

Hope you like. 3 Please review!

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The spray can of paint dropped to the ground, the metal clinking against the concrete floor. Mik sat in front of the large bridge column, peering up through his messy brown hair at the many swirls and blots of color decorated the stone pillar. He chewed on his lip ring, smiling happily at his masterpiece.

Idly, he wonder where Mirc was. He wanted to show this to the giant. He raked a hand through his disheveled hair, pulling it back so he could tie it up in a small ponytail. The hair that was too short poked around his face. His tongue rubbed against his cheek, feeling the bit of the silver rod that ran through his cheek, then did the same to the other side. Yup, he wasn't anything.

Mik stood up, picking the spray can up with him. He noticed he had paint on his hoodie, but didn't mind it. Being who he is, he usually has some kind of artistic media plastered onto his clothes.

His eyes widened.

He felt a hand on the back of his neck.

Shit.

But he recognized that hand, the soft fabric of the glove barely touching his warm skin.

"Mirc," Mik turned to look at the giant standing behind him, but Mirc wasn't looking at Mik, he was looking at the pillar. He stared through the black lenses of his sunglasses at the pillar-made-canvas.

The giant finally looked down at the artist after about three awkward (although Mirc didn't seem to notice it) minutes, and dropped his hand back to his side. He mumbled something that Mik's ears didn't catch and his eyes were fast enough to read his lips.

"What?" Mik asked stupidly.

Mirc almost looked embarrassed, he didn't feel comfortable saying things about people, especially good things. It made him feel soft. But he had to say it, Mik deserved it.

"It's beautiful."

Mik could feel his face become warm. "You sound corny."

Mirc scowled, "I knew it." He was about to apologize for being corny, but Mik stopped him.

"Thanks, though." Mik whispered.

Mirc's eyes widen behind the dark glass. He wanted to smile, but he couldn't remember how. His face muscles creaked, was he smiling? He didn't know. It didn't feel any different besides the creaking muscles.

Mik's eyes widened, the stoic giant, Mirc, was smiling? Impossible.

But…

It didn't look impossible.

Unless Mik was seeing things.

Yeah, that sounds about right.

Maybe he was insane.

"You're welcome, Mik." Mirc didn't know why they were whispering, but the conversation held the air that if one of them spoke too loudly, it would chase the other away. Neither wanted to risk that.

Mirc's gloved hand found its way to Mik's cheek, his thumb gently rubbing up and down the silver rod. Every Vampire wore something silver, except Ian. He was the only one who was with a Werewolf, and he probably didn't want the silver to hurt Vaan.

Mik turned bright red. He wanted a comeback, anything to make him feel confident again and get rid of that warm feeling in his chest. He wanted to feel cold. But that hand on his cheek did feel good.

"Mik?" Mirc's fingers stopped, but didn't pull away. He noticed the flush that spread across Mik's face and neck. He felt like he should smile again, maybe laugh, but couldn't remember how. The feeling his muscles made when he smiled only moments ago were gone. That made him feel horrible.

Insane feels real good about now.

Mik's fingers found the collar of Mirc's coat. He grasped tightly, licking his lips and hastily pulling Mirc down towards him. Mirc froze, feeling lips against his. Those lips were chapped, warm, inviting…

Very good.

Mirc responded slowly, gloved fingers weaving into short hair. The warm lips opened up for him and he dived in, exploring all he could.

He wanted more.

He wanted all he could take.

Mik's back was pushed up against a concrete wall, his legs wrapped around Mirc's muscular waist, pulling the taller man flush against him. He moaned.

Mirc pressed against him too, his hands roaming up Mik's paint-decorated hoodie, his fingers splaying across the warm skin. He could feel the ribs Mik's ribs poking gently out under the skin. Mirc cursed his lungs and their need for air, he had to pull away from the sugar-flavored lips, but after a second he dived back in.

Mmmmm…

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Please review if you would like the next chapter to be a lemon! ;D