It was night time in the city. Christmas was coming, and winter was a cruel mistress this year, snow not yet falling but the slice of the winds were sharp.

Jun Ki smiled at the rather dirty looking old woman as she nodded her thanks and went to an unoccupied part of a bench in the hall. The soup kitchen in this part of the neighborhood was always busy during the winter. Some of the homeless and less fortunate journeyed from across the city to come to this one. Some said they came because of the reputation, and stayed because of him.

He only believed the reputation part. 

Jun Ki was slender for his age, looking more effeminate than masculine depending on how he wore his hair. Deciding to grow it out for the winter, he seemed more pretty than anything else.

He had just stepped outside for a short smoke, needing the break. The stark contrast to the hot smoke in his lungs to the cold lancing through his coat was shock enough to wake his senses a bit. Lost in his idle thoughts, he didn't notice the dark figure bounding across the mouth of the alley until the heavy footfalls sounded more desperate and closer than drunk like he'd first anticipated.

"Open the door," a labored, urgent voice called out to him. "Hurry!"

The person's face flashed under the guard light near the middle of the alley and Jun Ki didn't realise his own shock until the of the cigarette burned his bottom lip.

"," he cursed, moving to fulfill the request more out of obedience than obligation.

The warmth of the back room of the soup kitchen slowly seeped into the cloth of the jacket Jun Ki wore. The man who rushed in behind him had shoved the door closed almost before his own coat tail got in.

The only thing now between them were the sounds of heavy breathing, low murmuring from the kitchen, clanking of pans and spoons, and silent expectancy.

The young volunteer was at a loss as he took in the vaguely familiar sight. He hadn't seen this man for the better part of five years and the time apart showed on his friend. He wasn't even sure how to start conversation between them, given the sudden circumstances. So, he decided to be as casual as possible.

"Come here often?" 

Jun Ki mentally kicked himself.

Christ.

The incredulous look on the other man's face let him know just how well that went.

"Fancy meeting you here, too," the braided man panted, leaning against the heavy steel door. He carefuly looked around, uncharacteristically guarded and on high alert. "A soup kitchen?"

Jun Ki raised a challenging eyebrow before looking pointedly at the door the breathless male was currently using as support.

The panting man nodded his concession. Couldn't argue there.

"It's been five years, Toru," the volunteer marveled.

"Yet I still couldn't get rid of you," came the quick jibe, just as quickly countered by a punch to the shoulder, marked by a surprised yelp of protest.

"," Jun Ki muttered.

"Name's Satoru, wipe," the other man grumbled.

"Whatever."

A/N: Well a short introductory chapter into the lives of two friends who can't seem to get away from each other. More on the way.