Word Count: 405

Sting's POV

Sting entered the guildhall, sniffing at the air. Something smelled good, but he wasn't sure what it was. A familiar onyx ponytail drew him in, leading him to the request board. The blond sniffed again, closing his eyes from the pleasant scent. Rogue was focused on the flyers, hardly paying attention to the master of Sabertooth. "You're here as late as usual."

"I left as soon as I woke up," Sting complained, continuing to inhale the blissful aroma that had gotten stronger the longer he stood near the board.

"My point exactly," the shadow answered, a hand raised to his nose, as if he was smelling the opposite of Sting.

"Hey, what's that really nice smell?"

"What smell?" Rogue asked, turning away from Sting again.

"I don't know," the light dragon said, walking closer to the other. "Hmm, it smells even better over here," he finished, slightly dazed.

"H-Hey!" the black-clad male protested, shoving Sting away. As soon as his nose had made contact with the pale skin, the white dragon's vision had gone hazy with his desire for more of it. "D-Don't do that!"

"Your scent is perfect," Sting mumbled, his lips pressed against the nape of Rogue's neck. Before his tongue could touch the sensitive skin, the slayer turned, causing the two dragons' lips to meet. Ruby eyes widened, while blue closed. Flyers crumpled underneath the pressure of Sting's body against Rogue's as the blond deepened the accidental, but appreciated kiss. The shadow pushed him back by his chest, panting slightly.

The few members of Sabertooth present simply ignored the excitement, going about their business and avoiding the request board at all costs.

"Are you trying to give me a bruise?"

"Not yet," Sting replied with a smirk, Rogue immediately regretting his choice of words.

"It's still morning, calm down," the black-haired male stated flatly.

"Stop smelling so delicious, and you, me, and my hormones won't have a problem."

Rogue shook his head, not bothering to correct Sting's grammar. It honestly was too early for such things, although the light dragon was intent on making out with the other.

"Wait... If your scent is more alluring to me than usual, is mine the same to you?"

Rogue looked flushed, his loose pieces of hair doing little to cover his blush. "N-No comment."

"What do I smell like? Yours is like, pure darkness."

"Darkness doesn't have a scent, Sting," Rogue sighed.

"It does now!"