Schizo: GAH! I'm so sorry I haven't been updating. I'm writing whenever I do actually have time (as well as a manuscript I hope to publish in the near future...), but it's my fucking schoolwork! Note to self: 3 AP classes and Journalism is a bad thing for a writer. Because of school, I haven't been able to write almost... anything.

I'm being deprived of my passion and I think I'm starting to snap.

Seriously.

This "fic" isn't even finished and it was originally supposed to be a oneshot, but I feel guilty for not posting anything, so I'm giving you uh... what I have of the "oneshot" I'm working on. I guess this will turn into a really short porn series. XD Oh well... You don't get too much action here since it's like... not even 4 complete pages, but you get the idea of where it's going...

Forgive me. I'm working on There's a Catch and a little on U S of Angel, so uh... it's not forgotten, just not a priority due to school.

Freaking homework...

I do not own D N Angel

Takeshi

Panting, I pulled him closer to me, kissing him hard as he sloppily unbuttoned my shirt. I was rammed into the wall as I frantically poked at the keyhole with my keys, trying desperately to get the door open. God damn it, that fucking key.

“Hold on,” I gasped, just before turning around and shoving the key into its place, slamming the door open, and jumping back in Satoshi’s arms as he blindly carried me into my house—meaning he bumped into the side wall along the way.

“Close the door?” He panted.

“Fuck the door.”

“And what if—”

I reached down and grabbed the keys. The door was immediately shut closed.

“Your father,” Satoshi pressed me up against the wall, groping me as he whispered against my neck, “When will he come?”

“Late,” I replied, softly nipping at his ear. “Don’t worry.”

“I want you.”

Startled, I nudged his chin up so he would look me in the eyes.

“What?”

“I want you.”

“Sa… Satoshi…” Blushing, I said, “I never knew—”

My eyes opened.

Wait. That was a dream? Wait. That was a dream about Satoshi?

…And we were getting it on too.

“Oh shit.”

Daisuke

He didn’t come into the classroom with a plan already at hand. He didn’t rush up to my desk, begging me if I could fill in for him on his clean-up duty. He didn’t even tell me his excitement about the new thieving Dark was going to do this upcoming Thursday.

All he did was sit down at his desk and stare down at his hands.

“Is there something wrong, Saehara?”

Abruptly, he faced me and shook his head in disagreement.

“You sure?” I asked.

“I’m sure.” He smiled, “Just thinking about how I’m going to sneak out of my house to the Shinobi museum so that my dad won’t catch me.”

“Okay.”

/The reporter seems preoccupied./

Mm-hmm.

Satoshi walked into the classroom, oddly catching Takeshi’s attention. It surprised me to see Takeshi blush nervously and immediately force his vision back to his hands.

Okay. I know what’s wrong.

Takeshi

Let’s think this one through, shall we?

Okay.

Super.

It starts off with:

“Um,” Awkwardly, I tap Satoshi’s shoulder. “My dad told me to help you wash this car.”

“I’m fine, Saehara.”

“No, seriously. I can’t leave you unless I help you wash this car.”

Standing up straight with a soapy sponge in his hand and a wet towel over his right shoulder, he glanced over to my father, who was watching us. My father pointed at the other cars Satoshi washed, which ended up getting complaints because they were done slowly and… inefficiently.

“Fine,” Satoshi muttered.

Grabbing a sponge, I soaked it in the bucket of soap-water and then spread out far on the hood of the car to get as much as I could as possible. Taking the sponge slowly back so that the soap would firmly wash the grime off the car, I arched my back under so I wouldn’t have to move much. I went down again, this time picking up my left foot a little to get more distance.

“There isn’t a need to wash the car like a prostitute, Saehara.”

Looking up at him, bent over the hood, I blinked.

“What?”

“You can’t tell me you aren’t doing this to better the sales for the police agency.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The incredibly short bathing suit shorts, the provocative technique to washing the hood of the car… the wet white t-shirt you’re wearing…” Satoshi sighed, “I don’t need to go on.”

“Um,” I paused, and then continued. “I didn’t know I looked like a whore. I was just washing a car, but um… I guess thanks for thinking I’m hot.”

Satoshi widened his eyes.

And I guess I kind of enjoyed the fact that he did because I teased him about it the entire time after that. Though, I guess he was right. I got the best tips for that car wash. Sad, no?

But then this happened:

“No. I think that is the best plan we can do.”

“Commander,” My father pointed at the blueprints he laid out on our dining table, “If you look more carefully. Adding more forces on this side of the building will greater our chances of catching the Phantom Thief. And if we position helicopters over here,” He pointed to a new direction, “Then we can catch him if he tries to use those wings.”

“I don’t believe it’s that simple, Chief.”

I heard the ding of my timer, immediately opening the oven door to take out the shrimp dumplings I made for my dad. I didn’t know Satoshi was coming over to discuss plans with my father, so I had to scramble and make some more for him since I knew my dad eats at least twenty-five of them.

I placed them in a bowl for each of them, heading towards the dining table. It wasn’t until I was at the table that I realized I still had my checkered-patterned apron on. Well… there goes my “manly” reputation. I might as well give up trying to keep one up in front of people.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, Takeshi.”

Satoshi nodded.

“So, yes, why don’t you consider the idea, Commander?”

I started to walk back into the kitchen, trying to figure out if I should go lazy today and just give Dad an ice cream dessert or actually make something for him that’s healthy.

“Saehara,”

I perked up at my voice called out from Satoshi.

“Your food is delicious.”

I blushed.

“Th-Thank you, Hiwatari.”

Wait. Why did I blush?

“You should taste his desserts,” my father boasted.

“Some other time.” Satoshi started getting up to leave, “I better get home.”

“No,” I insisted. “Stay.”

“Hmm?”

As if possessed, I nodded and smiled, “I’m making a pumpkin crème brûlée.”

“Oh,” Satoshi nodded, staring directly in my eyes. “Okay, then. I suppose I’ll stay for a little while longer.”

Why did I offer?

And then the dream.

Was I crushing on Satoshi?

Satoshi

Casually, I observed Niwa’s moves, searching for any nervous habits or tweaks. If ever the chance I needed to trap him, I would need to know what makes him nervous. However, he seemed perfectly content while he was speaking with Saehara, who ironically looked nervous. It seemed Niwa and Saehara had a personality switch today.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m just going to ask him.”

Cocking an eyebrow up, I soon realized that Niwa was about to approach me and Saehara wasn’t exactly too fond of the idea. He hissed for Niwa to return to him, but Niwa only continued to walk up to me.

“Hiwatari,” He called out before standing before my feet. “Do you want to eat lunch with Saehara and me? You always eat alone; maybe we can give you company.”

So I found myself sitting in between Saehara and Niwa, Niwa happily eating his meal while Saehara refused to look me in the eye.

“I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

Saehara, helplessly followed Niwa with his eyes as Niwa left us for the bathroom.

Silence.

Cough.

Sniff.

“Why are you so quiet?”

Saehara glared, “Why do you care?”

“You’re never quiet.”

“Yes I am.”

“Not usually,” I corrected myself.

“I feel like being quiet today. Is that so wrong?”

Incredulously, I shook my head, “I don’t think you’re being quiet for no reason. Tell me.”

“I don’t have to,” He huffed, “and there’s no reason. I just don’t feel like talking.”

“Did your father break another promise to you?”

His eyes widened as he looked away from me, trying not to show me that that always happened. He muttered, “No.”

He never liked talking to me much, which in a way, irked me. I saw him quite often because of his father and then from school, so it was usually awkward when we had to talk. And it was even more awkward to grow up with him, watching him grow into a figure that wasn’t too masculine, and watching him develop a feisty yet submissive personality—because his father would never dare attempt to cook a meal and uphold a job that took up twenty hours of the day.

“How would you know that my father breaks promises to me anyhow?”

Takeshi looked upset that I knew this.

“You get tense when it happens.”

Schizo: See? It doesn't even end right. It just... ends. Like BAM! Ending. Again, I'm sorry... I hope this, uh, shows you I'm still alive or something...

Don't even review. It's not worth it...

Cheers -Steph