Hello everyone! Thank you for the reviews, I'm glad that you are all enjoying this short fic. Please enjoy chapter four and leave a review. ;)

I wake in Raphael's bedroom, a pair of sweatpants the only clothing I have on. My heart leaps to my throat, staying there as I sit up. The bed creaks beneath me, causing Raphael to turn. His eyes meet mine, bright against the dark walls surrounding us.

"You're awake," it's more of a statement that he makes, less of a question.

"Yeah, I am," I reply awkwardly. My eyes sift through the cluttered corners of the bedroom, drifting over the posters with careful inspection. Anywhere other than his eyes will do.

My head is pounding, throbbing harder and harder with every passing second. I know that it's a side affect of a hang over, I'm used to mornings like these. Only, today is different, because, as I sit within an arms length of Raphael, I feel embarrassed. And exposed. And weak.

"You were pretty screwed up last night, Jones."

"Oh, uh, yeah, about that . . ," I trail off, rubbing the back of my neck profoundly, face hot with blush. "What exactly happened?"

Raphael lets out a sigh and stands up, beginning to pace around the bedroom.

"Well, first I find you dead drunk in the back of an alleyway, mumbling about God knows what. Then, I try to bring you home, but your window was locked! And it was rather obvious that I couldn't drop you off on the door step, given your drunken state." With a vile tone, he spats at me, disgusted by my previous behavior. My hands shake in fear; fear that he'll no longer except me, fear that I'm further pronounced dead to him. "So I take you down here, get you in the shower—oh, ya barfed on me a couple'a times, too. I fall in after you, and you make a move on me! You were puckered lips and all, trying to kiss me.

"Finally I got you to my room, had you lay in bed. You insisted I accompany you on the mattress. And that's when you tried to have sex with me."

Eyes wide in both shock and denial, I spring to my feet. "I was fucking drunk! Do you honestly think I would've done that with a straight mind?"

"I dunno, Jones. You have been pretty jacked up lately. Ever since I came out as bi to everyone, you've been practically drooling over me."

I shake my head. He's got it all wrong, I don't just want him because he's gay, I didn't start loving him when he announced it. It started far before that, although, his statement added to my lust.

"That's fake," I say with a hiss. "I don't have a crush on you, Raph, that's fucking loony."

"I'm beginning to think this whole argument was loony," Raphael mutters, shaking his head profoundly.

I raise an eyebrow, staring at him in curiosity. His tone switched from infuriation to exhaustion in a short matter of seconds, causing confusion to rain down on me. "What d'ya mean by that?"

"What I mean, is that this was a pointless argument. I knew, deep down, that this would be your answer," his eyes narrow as he shoots a glare at the floor. The ground beneath his feet sets aflame by his powerful stare. I take a step towards him, not caring when the flames lap at my feet.

"Then why bring this argument up?" I demand, believing that the answer would be harmless.

"Because I love you!"

The last three words echo, bouncing off the walls, reverberating around my skull over and over and over.

I love you.

He loves me, desires me like I desire him.

I love you.

He loves me, craving me like I crave him.

I love you.

He loves me, with as much force as I love him.

We can be together.

Only we can't.

Because I lead him to believe I didn't want him.

Oh shit.

The gleam in his emerald eyes as he glances up at me is painful, feeling like a stab in the chest. He looks like he's drowning in the agony of betrayal.

I step towards him, moving faster and faster with every step. And then there I am, and here he is. His face is cupped in my hands as I stare deeply into his eyes. "I lied."

My lips crash into his forcefully, and I don't give him the chance to pull away as I shift one hand to the back of his head, and my other to his own hand. Our fingers lace together, and he relaxes against me.

He's kissing back, lips wet against mine. His right hand is combing through my hair, breaking the messy black knots into shiny locks.

We drift away, out of breath. But I don't move too far away. My forehead rests on his, and as we breathe the same air, our eyes lock, mesmerized by the sight of each other. "I love you," I murmur.

The words swim around us, slipping through the cracks of silence. They sink deep, I can see my confession seeping into his heart.

"And I love you."

I smile, grinning like the lovesick fool that I am. Leaning back into him, we pick up right where we left off, in a deep, intoxicating kiss.