I've decided that maybe writing short, pointless stories is easier than my long, complicated ones that never seem to make sense


I've decided that maybe writing short, pointless stories is easier than my long, complicated ones that never seem to make sense. . So…a nice little Taito.

This fic is based on the idea of becoming something or someone that you already were to start with. Don't ask.

Partly inspired by the hilarious Brit comedy 'Men Behaving Badly' and partly inspired by my English coursework *smirks* Heavy lime content. I don't think I could write lemon without embarrassing myself horribly…but this does come dangerously close to being lemon. It kind of just…stops abruptly. There was no way I was going to trust myself with lemon. Ahem. Enjoy!

P.S. If you flame me, I will personally make sure that they are posted and ridiculed on my site. So there. *sticks out tongue*



Yamato grunted with irritation as he brushed crumbs from the paper in front of him and his fingertips left a greasy smear on the pristine surface. A greasy smear from the '99% fat free!' tortilla chips. Must have been that last one percent that was the clincher. He scowled at the half eaten bag of chips. He would blame them if he failed the next exam. Damn…that smudge was painfully obvious. Well…maybe it would liven up the page. Maybe no one would notice. Maybe he could pass it off as an artistic statement about the immorality of modern society. Maybe he didn't actually give a fuck. He sighed and passed a hand through his already scruffy hair. He was studying the performing arts and as much as he adored the course, (not to mention the leggy, raven-haired professor) this essay was just starting to border on being incredibly, mind-numbingly tedious. Music was his adopted talent and he knew he could make it big, but if that didn't work out then Yamato was determined to have some form of a decent education behind him. Granted, the performing arts wasn't the most academic course he could have picked, but he was getting top grades so far so he figured that he'd get by.

And it wasn't easy, either. This was a bitch of an essay that he was writing. All about character development…one of those 'compare and contrast' jobs where you could just stick 'in my opinion' in front of everything and get points for independent thinking. If he set his mind to it, he should be able to rattle something off in an hour or so, but as it was…well, Yamato had a lot on his mind. Okay, not a lot…one thing. He had one thing on his mind, but it was such a BIG one thing that he figured that it could probably be described as 'a lot'. Maybe he should just pack it all in right now. And run off to…Canada. Canada might be a good place to go. Lot's of nice…trees and shit.

Yamato shook his head in frustration and tried to focus on the task at hand. This was getting him nowhere. He had to concentrate! But it was hard when his brain kept wandering off and supplying him with random thought-provoking topics such as 'What kind of trees are there in Canada anyway?' instead of reasons why Chance Wayne was different to Blanche Dubois.

With a defeated exhalation and a last angry glance in the direction of the tortilla chips, Yamato slammed his chair backwards and got to his feet. Maybe if he made himself a cup of coffee and watched half an hour of TV, he would be able to come back to the essay refreshed and brimming with incentive.

Or maybe not. An hour and three cups of coffee later Yamato was still draped sideways over an armchair trying to find out if it was possible to hypnotise yourself with a key attached to a piece of string, while the TV blared mindlessly in the background. When the door slammed and his roommate stamped noisily into the tiny apartment, Yamato was almost glad that there was something to actually cause a distraction from the essay. That way he wouldn't have to make up pointless crap to occupy his rebellious mind. He glanced at the clock on the wall above the TV. Just after nine. Early.

"Hey!" Yamato called out, swinging his legs round so that he was sitting properly in the chair. "You're back early."

"Yeah…" Taichi muttered, dropping his jacket in the middle of the floor and slumping into the chair opposite Yamato's. He pouted at his feet and Yamato raised an eyebrow. Taichi sighed. "I called her the wrong name," He explained, unprompted and Yamato snorted with laughter.

"Nice one."

"Mmm. Is there any food around here?" Taichi asked, sitting up, glad to have someone to talk to who wasn't an annoying bitch. Or at least not all the time.

"There's tortilla chips on the table. Finish those."

Taichi wrinkled his nose. "That all?"

"I'm not cooking you anything."

"Maybe I'll just settle for something liquid and alcoholic," Taichi said and pulled himself from the chair.

"What did you call her?" Yamato asked as Taichi padded into the little patch of tiled floor lined by cabinets that was otherwise known as the 'kitchen'. Taichi ducked out of the refrigerator, clutching a six pack of beer and waved a hand dismissively.

"I can't even remember. But apparently it wasn't her name." He glanced at the unfinished essay on the kitchen table. "What're you writing?"

"Essay. About Tennesse Williams."

"Where's that?"

Yamato grinned. "It's a 'who', not a 'where. He's an American playwright. You must've heard of him."

"Do I look American?" Taichi sat back down in what had come to be 'his' chair. He'd never claimed it as his own, but ever since they'd arrived here a year ago he'd sat there and Yamato had sat opposite. That was just the way it worked. "Don't you have to finish it?" Taichi asked as he opened one of the cans and took a hearty mouthful.

"No." Yamato said sulkily.

"Yeah, but you do, don't you?"


Sensing that Yamato was already pissed off enough by the essay, Taichi gestured to the TV, changing the subject. "What're you watching?"

"Huh? Oh I dunno…it just came on…"

"What is this? Spanish or something?"

Yamato shrugged, "Probably." Taichi frowned, tossing one of his cans of lager to his friend.

"What's wrong with you?" He asked off-handedly.

"Oh…" Yamato sighed and glanced regretfully at the essay that still lay unfinished on the table. There was no way he was going to get it done tonight. "Well, Deiji went to visit her family yesterday." He said, referring to his most recent girlfriend.

"Again?" Taichi asked as Yamato popped open his beer, "But she only just saw them last week."

"Yeah I know. And she doesn't even LIKE her family. She goes on about how much she hates them all the time."

Taichi shrugged. "Well, maybe they made up." Yamato shook his head.

"Her mom called this morning and asked if she was here. She wasn't picking up at her apartment. She also said that they haven't spoken since Christmas."


"Uh huh. So yeah, she's cheating on me, I'm an idiot and I'm gonna be dead this time tomorrow because I won't be able to hand the damn essay in." Yamato finished, gulping down a mouthful of the bitter liquid and leaning back in his chair defeatedly.

"Well," Taichi started, trying to be optimistic, "you don't KNOW she's cheating on you. And Professor Kitase loves you so she'll understand."


"Well, even if Deiji is cheating on you then who cares? You're better off without her if you ask me. The girl was a grade-A bitch."

Yamato nodded thoughtfully, then changed his mind and shook his head. "Yeah, but she was a HOT grade-A bitch." He whined.

Taichi smirked at his friend's tortured face and shrugged, opening a second can of lager. "Shit happens. Learn to deal. You want another beer?"

Yamato glanced at the nearly empty can in his hand. "Nah…I can't get pissed. I've got to at least try to get that fucking essay done."

"Suit yourself." Taichi continued to drink, knowing perfectly well that he could keep Yamato distracted from his work for as long as he wanted. It wasn't exactly difficult. And if Taichi was going down tonight, he was taking his friend with him.

Yamato sighed. "Well…maybe one more…"

* * * * * * * * * * *

After drinking their way through the first lot of beers, Taichi and Yamato had started on a bottle of vodka that was stored away at the back of some cupboard. Of course to get to it, the contents of most of the kitchen had been spread across the tiled floor and one of the cupboard doors had mysteriously leapt off of its hinges. Once the two had recovered from the hilarity of the fact that the door was broken, they had migrated to the living room…well, the living space more like. A late night re-run of a cheesy and strangely addictive soap opera coloured the TV screen and the two friends sat slumped on their tiny second-hand couch engaged in a captivating and deeply philosophical discussion.

"Why," Taichi slurred, gripping the neck of the vodka bottle with a clumsy hand, "can't a woman be more like…a television? Huh? Because…BE-cause, you can turn it on and off whenever you feel like it…and…" He trailed off vaguely, his alcohol-clouded brain searching for something to add.

"And," Yamato supplied, "you can mute it if it starts to get pissy…" He muted the television with a flick of the remote control.

"Uh huh, and you don't have to buy it flowers and expensive chocolate to get it to work…"

"And it doesn't take five hours to get ready…"

Taichi nodded enthusiastically and turned to the TV. "You wouldn't care if I called you the wrong name, would ya? Like, would you care if I called you 'toaster' or something? Hmm?" His questions were met by the muted images of people talking about the latest scandal to have occurred within their tiny community. "It's not answering, Matt." He whispered to the boy next to him

"I don't expect it would." Yamato was considerably more sober than the scruffy-haired brunette.


"Yeah and what is it about soap operas?" Yamato asked in that pondering kind of way that you do when you're almost pissed, "How can so much stuff happen all the time? They already had a flood, three marriages, five births and two divorces this month…there's only ten fucking characters!"

"And did you ever notice how nobody ever goes to school for more than thirty seconds? Or how nobody ever has to go the bathroom? Like…ever?"

"Yeah, what is that?"

Taichi lifted one shoulder in an attempt at a shrug. "Maybe all the times they fuck each other affects the bladder or something."

"That's a fucking crappy answer you know."

"Mmm…oh no, look," Taichi gestured towards the TV screen "Brad is cheating on Sarah."

"Huh. Serves her right." Yamato scowled at the images playing in front of him. "Bitch…"

Taichi sighed, "All women are bitches, Yama."

"Tell me about it. All of them." There was a moment of silence as the two contemplated that. "And all that stuff about there being 'plenty more fish in the sea' is just total bollucks, isn't it?" Yamato said finally, "Yeah, the fish are there, but they all stink just as bad as the others…"

"Yeah…fuck, man they just think it's funny to screw you about, don't they?"


"Well I've had enough!" Taichi cried, grabbing an empty beer can and hurling it at the floor.

Yamato winced at Taichi's drunken yell. "Shh Tai, it's too late to start crusading tonight…"

"No, no it's not. It's never too late and I'm not crusading I'm…making a point."

"What point?"

Taichi frowned as he processed the question. "Shut up, you're making me forget what I'm talking about!"

"You never knew what you were talking about in the first place."

"Yeah but I so do."

Yamato smirked, "And now you're not even making sense." He flipped the remote and sound flared back to the television's speakers.

"I'm sorry Daniel, but…" a busty red-haired actress sobbed unconvincingly on screen, "But," dramatic pause, "The baby isn't yours!" The woman dropped her face into her hands, shoulders heaving melodramatically as a tall guy with slicked-back hair reeled in shock. Yamato jumped as Taichi slammed the bottle of vodka onto the coffee table.

"That is it!" he yelled angrily.


"I've just decided. I'm turning gay."

Yamato snorted with laughter.

"What? What's funny?"

"You can't just decide to turn gay."

"Why not? I just did."

"It doesn't work like that."

"Says who?"

"Me. Now shut up. You've drunk too much."

Taichi narrowed his eyes and jabbed a finger at his friend's chest. "No…YOU'VE drunk too much!"

"Uh huh. I'm not the one spouting random shit, man," Yamato said calmly, patting Taichi on the shoulder and turning back to the TV.

"Okay then…maybe you need to drink MORE then, Tai," Taichi said pointedly, waving the bottle in Yamato's face, who grinned at his friend's mistake.

"Matt. I'm Matt, remember? Tai is you."

"Tai is…me? What?"

"You're really not doing too good with the whole name concept today, are you, huh?"

Taichi sighed dramatically and shook his fuzzy head in an attempt to clear it, but if anything it seemed to make the room more blurry. He stared at his friend who was blinking hard at the TV, trying to stay awake. The mixture of coffee and alcohol was making Yamato's eyes sleepy while the rest of him was ready and raring for anything. Taichi groped around for his vodka for a moment before he noticed that it was still in his other hand. He grinned. He was so pissed. And the funniest thing was that he knew he was pissed. He was even sitting here admitting it to himself. How funny could you get? Yamato wasn't pissed though. He probably thought it was funny too…Taichi being pissed while he wasn't. Except that that actually wasn't funny at all when Taichi thought about it. He was thinking pointless, totally unfunny jibberish! Now that was funny.

Taichi chuckled to himself and Yamato glanced at him.


Taichi giggled harder and leaned forward waving a hand for Yamato to do the same. Yamato frowned in irritation, leaning towards his drunken friend.

"What, Tai?" He asked again.

"I," Tai whispered loudly, "am completely smashed."

"Yeah. I noticed." Yamato replied dryly.

"But you know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think that if I'm pissed…then you have to be pissed too. Because being pissed on your own is just boring."

Yamato rolled his eyes. "Tai, I can't be hungover tomorrow, okay? I have a lecture and I…"

"Can't you just not go?" Taichi interrupted.

"No. I have to." Yamato said firmly. If he let Taichi talk him into getting drunk then he knew he'd never make it out of bed in the morning.

Taichi lowered his eyebrows and stuck his bottom lip out. "Please?"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm making a sad face."

Yamato raised an eyebrow. "Okay, yeah I think it's time you gave me the drink Tai," he said, holding out a hand for the bottle.

Taichi grinned mischievously and clutched the bottle to his chest.

"Tai…" Yamato frowned wearily. He was starting to feel drowsy now, the caffeine and alcohol slowly ebbing out of his system.

"You can have it," Taichi pronounced clearly, "IF you drink some."

"Tai, no."

"You have to!"

"Oh keep the fucking stuff. I'm going to bed. Just don't blame me when you die of alcohol poisoning." Yamato made a move to get to his feet but was stopped by Taichi's hand on his wrist. "Christ…look, let me go Tai. I mean it. Don't make me smack you with something heavy."

"You can't reach anything heavy," Taichi said happily, an amazingly intelligent observation on his part, considering the current state of his brain. "C'mon, I'll let you go if you just have a little drinky drinky…" He waved the bottle again, speaking in the kind of voice you would use to address a three year old refusing to eat their vegetables.

"If I drink any of that, I won't be able to stop and you know it."

Taichi shrugged. "Is it my fault that you can't hold your liquor?"

"I can so hold my liquor!" Yamato retorted, although he knew it was a lie. His slender body was just not made for dealing with vast quantities of alcohol.

"Prove it then." Taichi sneered hitting where he knew it would hurt. Yamato paused thoughtfully and opened his mouth only to close it again, yanking his hand away from Taichi.

"I'm going to bed."

Taichi scowled and made a last ditch attempt to…well, he wasn't actually even quite sure what it was that he was trying to achieve.

"Alright. Hope you sleep well," He said casually as Yamato walked away. "Just…try not to think about Deiji, okay?" Yamato tensed, back still turned. If there was anything he didn't need reminding of… "I thought it might help you to take your mind of it," Taichi continued, suddenly becoming very interested in reading the label embracing the moulded glass of the bottle in his hand, "but…hey, it's your call. Night!" He shut his mouth and waited, still staring at the bottle and for a moment he thought it hadn't worked. Then the bottle was snatched from his grasp and he looked up to see Yamato with the glass neck to his lips. Yamato swallowed and blinked hard as the stiff liquid rushed into his system, numbing his brain almost instantly.

"Fuck…" He muttered, reaching out to steady himself on the arm of the couch as he sat down. Maybe he shouldn't have drunk so much one go. He felt Taichi pull the bottle from his hand and heard the chink as he set it on the floor.

"You okay, man?" His friend asked, dropping a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

Yamato blinked again "Yeah I…" He was abruptly cut off by Taichi's lips on his own. Even in his alcohol-muddled state, it was the last thing he expected, and all he could do was sit and wait numbly until Taichi pulled away. When their eyes met, Yamato was surprised to see that Taichi's held the same confusion that he imagined his did.

"What the hell was that?" Yamato muttered, unblinking.

"I…don't know." The other boy answered in bewilderment, as if Yamato had been the one to kiss him. He couldn't believe what he was doing…

"But…" Yamato started, then fell silent as he realised that he didn't actually have anything to say.

When they were both in high school, Yamato had developed a fierce crush on the friend that sat before him now. He'd never felt anything for another boy before then, just Taichi. He had always put it down to teenage angst. Hormones, confusion, uncertainty about the future and the likes. The feelings had just kind of dissolved after a couple of years as he forced himself to ignore them, clinging stubbornly to his…straightness, as it were. He continually told himself that he didn't like boys. Forced his mind to believe it until he came to regard Taichi as nothing but a friend once more. But just the simplest touch of Taichi's lips on his had brought all the leashed in feelings back in an almost painful rush of emotion.

They continued to stare at one another for a moment before Taichi leaned tentatively in again. He paused halfway there, his breath warm on the blonde's skin. When Yamato made no move to escape or protest, Taichi closed the gap between them again, feeling his heart flutter as Yamato's lips responded to his touch. Taichi wound an arm around the familiar waist of his friend as Yamato's hands brushed over the back of his neck and down his chest, exploring in ways they had never had the chance to before. Well, as long as they were exploring…Taichi eased his tongue between Yamato's eager lips, pulling the other closer to him as Yamato's talented fingers fumbled with the buttons on Taichi's shirt. Their kiss deepened as the cool fabric of Taichi's shirt slid down his arms, stopping halfway because of his otherwise occupied hands. Taichi let go of Yamato's waist to blindly shrug the sleeves of his shirt free. It wasn't long before Yamato's shirt joined Taichi's as a pool of cotton resting around its owner's hips.

Yamato sighed as Taichi's lips broke away from his to trail lingering kisses down his exposed neck. He shouldn't be doing this…he really shouldn't. Taichi was his best friend and it was just the alcohol acting. Taichi was pissed; he probably had no idea what he was doing. But despite that fact…there was something else. Sure they were both drunk, horny and frustrated; just seeking some kind of intimate human contact, but at the same time Yamato could sense an underlying chemistry that had to be more than just the alcohol. A throaty purr escaped his lips as Taichi nipped at his neck and it took him a moment to work out that the sound had come from him. He couldn't remember ever making a noise like that before. Maybe this was just a drunken mistake, but even if it was…it felt good.

"Tai…" Yamato whispered urgently, clutching at handfuls of soft brown hair. Taichi paused in his ministrations and looked up at his friend and would-be lover, chocolate eyes clouded by passion.

"Huh?" He choked out, wondering why he was being interrupted. It killed Yamato to have to say what he was about to, but…Taichi was going to regret this. Yamato knew he was. He wasn't thinking straight and if he let their friendship get fucked up because of that, Yamato would never forgive himself for not stopping it when he had the chance.

"We…shouldn't…" The blonde gasped, still breathing heavily.

Taichi's face twisted. "Why?" He asked, his eyes widening at the sudden change of heart.

"You're pissed…" Yamato managed to get out.

"So are you!" Taichi accused testily.

"Tai, you don't like me like this…I know you don't and you'll regret it in the morning. It's just the alcohol. I don't want things to be weird between us after…do you understand?" From the look on Taichi's face, he did not understand. He shook his head slightly in disbelief.

"Don't like you like this…Matt, fuck you have no idea do you? I've wanted you for years! Since middle school! The alcohol's giving me the courage to do this but it's not making the feelings! I promise you I won't regret it…I love you so much Yama…I love you and I want you and…shit, just stop fucking with me and either leave or…or…just…"

Taichi was interrupted in the middle of his forceful rant by Yamato grabbing him by the back of the neck and crushing their lips together in an ardent kiss that took his breath away. Taichi's words had been enough to convince Yamato and he continued as if the brief intermission had never occurred. The two were pressed as close as was physically possible in their current position now. Taichi was kneeling on one of the discarded beer cans but he was distracted by the delicate touch of Yamato's fingertips trailing down his bare chest and wandering beneath the waistband of his pants. His every muscle shivered at the other boy's touch…this was simply too good to be true. Their lips broke contact to focus on other more pressing activities as Taichi managed to undo the button on Yamato's stiff jeans, reaching a hand inside to continue his exploration of the other's body.

"Tai…" Yamato purred, and Taichi thrilled to the sound of his name rolling off of Yamato's tongue laced with such desire. He dropped his head to kiss the other's neck again, losing himself in the feel of it all. Yamato clutched at Taichi's back with his free hand as stars began to dance before his eyes. "Tai," He gasped again and the brunette reluctantly tore his lips away from Yamato's collarbone and pulled his hands free from the confines of the jeans.

"What now?" Taichi panted as Yamato disentangled himself from the other.

Their eyes locked and for a moment, Taichi thought that it was over. His heart fell and he could feel his face do the same.

"You wanna move this to a bedroom?" Yamato asked, blue eyes narrowing seductively. Taichi felt as if he were being offered a million dollars by a random stranger on the street.

"Really?" He asked, eyes shining with lust and anticipation.

His sultry companion nodded and Taichi sprang from the couch in a second. He swept Yamato up in his arms, who thumped his shoulder in embarrassment.

"For fuck's sake Taichi, I can walk!" Yamato growled angrily as Taichi took a step forward and swayed dangerously.

"Okay, well that's good because I…can't." Taichi allowed Yamato to swing his legs to the ground and they stumbled together in the general direction of Taichi's room, only stopping when they encountered a rather vicious table that still sported the unfinished and long-forgotten essay.

They burst through the door haphazardly and were glued together before they'd even hit the sheets. Yamato couldn't remember anything ever feeling so good, so unbelievably right. Taichi's lips on his combined with his confidently wandering hands were enough to make him feel faint. But despite the overpowering new sensations, there was still some cloudy, nagging little thought at the back of his mind. Desperately trying to ignore it, he focused himself on sliding Taichi's pants over his hips and reaching up to wrap his arms around the other's neck. Sure. NOW he could focus. It wasn't until they were both completely naked and Taichi's tongue was tracing patterns across Yamato's stomach while his hands were busy slightly lower down that the problematic thought suddenly surfaced in Yamato's mind, intent on making itself known. 'He said he loved you.' Yamato didn't quite see the relevance of that and draped an arm over his lover's damp back. Taichi gasped his name as Yamato's occupied hand increased it's rhythm, fingers nimble and practised from years of manipulating guitar strings and patchwork harmonica holes.

It wasn't until they had almost reached the point of no return that Yamato's mind finally supplied, 'He loves you, but you don't love him!' in an unexpected burst of rationality. Yamato frowned at the thought that this might mean more to Taichi than it did to him. He was pretty sure he wasn't in love with Tai…was he? Was this just about lust? Probably. He accepted the fact sulkily, as it meant he'd have to voice his thoughts again.


He smacked the side of Taichi's head rather harder than he needed to in an attempt to get Taichi to desist. The boy raised his head and shook dishevelled hair from his eyes.

"Jesus…what now?" He grunted irritably. They were never going to get anywhere if Yamato kept this up. Did he think it was funny or something? Was it some evil kink he had to constantly torture the person he was about to fuck? Taichi had never been the most patient of people and this was starting to piss him off.

"I don't think…I love you back…" Yamato panted, his slim chest rising and falling with his heavy breathing.

Taichi groaned loudly in frustration. "Shut up Matt! Just shut the fuck up, okay? You want me and that's all that matters right now. Just fucking stop talking would ya?"

Yamato smirked at the boy kneeling over him. Well that shot down the voice in his head.

"You want me to shut up, make me," he said huskily and Taichi returned his smirk and wordlessly ducked his head. His tongue, warm and firm, between Yamato's legs was definitely enough to leave the blonde speechless.

* * * * * * * * *

Yamato woke the next morning approximately…three hours too late to attend his lecture. Not that he was complaining. As far as the university was concerned, he and Taichi both had terrible food poisoning caused by bad shellfish today. He hated to miss a lecture, but attending was just completely out of the question. Yamato's silence hadn't lasted long the night before and the two new lovers had quickly progressed to much louder activities. In fact, Yamato was surprised that the neighbours hadn't complained. They'd been making enough noise to wake the dead.

It was weird to be waking up in Taichi's room like this. He sat in here all the time when he came to talk to Taichi. Sat on this bed. And now he was sleeping in it. The sun was filtering through the gaps in the blinds that covered the little window on the far side of the room, throwing wobbly striped shadows across the rumpled cotton of the sheets. Yamato blinked as a strip of sunlight assaulted his tired eyes and shifted his body to escape, bringing him face to face with Taichi. At his movement, Taichi tightened an arm possessively around Yamato's waist, frowning in his sleep. Yamato couldn't help but smile affectionately, blowing on Taichi's face in an attempt to shift some of the stray hair that drooped over the sleeping boy's forehead. The feathery locks lifted momentarily only to fall immediately back into place, the ends tickling Taichi's nose, making it twitch.

It was funny…if this wasn't love…Yamato couldn't hope to imagine what real love might feel like. He was lying here, with someone he adored, the person he respected and admired more than anyone else. Taichi understood him, made him laugh and had always, always been there for him no matter what. Plus he was absolutely adorable, Yamato thought affectionately as he watched his lover sleep, and…not that it really mattered of course…he was fantastic in bed. Picturing himself with anyone else just seemed bland and meaningless in comparison. And it wasn't…love.

"Tai?" Yamato whispered. As much as he liked lying here in Taichi's arms like this, his leg was starting to cramp up and his stomach was reminding him of how long it had been since he'd last eaten. When the sleeping boy offered no response, Yamato sighed and disentangled one hand from Taichi's embrace. He smirked to himself as he flicked Taichi's nose with a thumb and forefinger. Taichi screwed his face up at the sharp touch and his eyes blinked open groggily. When his sleepy gaze was met by a pair of familiar blue eyes, it took him a moment to work out just exactly what his friend was doing in his bed. Yamato grinned, his eyes warming with affection as he pressed his forehead to Taichi's.

"Massively hungover?" He asked in a rough morning voice and Taichi nodded. He grinned and stretched both arms above his head before draping one over Yamato's shoulders.

"See? You can too turn gay…" Taichi muttered sleepily, burying his face in the head of silken blonde hair that was currently resting on his chest. Yamato smiled, the comforting thump of his lover's heartbeat pulsing in his ear. "God…that was the most amazing night…I gotta hand it to you Yama," Taichi continued aimlessly, absently twisting the sandy locks between his fingers, "all those rumours about you are so true."

Yamato glanced up, and grinned again, licking his lips. "I aim to please…" he drawled, perfectly aware of the flattering rumours that always seemed to surround him. Taichi sighed contentedly, closing his eyes again. No need to get up yet.


"You still talking?"


"Figured you'd have learned after last night…" Taichi said, eyes still closed, hands running blindly down Yamato's sides.

"Tai! Listen, this is important."

The brunette cracked an eye with mild interest and waited for Yamato to continue.

"Did…did you mean it when you said you loved me last night?" Yamato asked carefully. Taichi sighed and hugged the blonde tighter to him. He didn't want to scare Yamato off, but he figured he'd better tell the truth. Keeping things locked up inside hadn't gotten him anywhere.

"Yes. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't. You know what? I called my date your name last night. That's probably why she freaked so bad…"

"You did?"

"Uh huh."


"It's okay if you don't feel the same. I'm not gonna try and force you into anything."

Yamato frowned, his stomach feeling as though it was attacking itself in hunger, the irritating sensation doing nothing to help his muddled brain. A thousand and one fragmented thoughts crossed his mind, all too fast and confused for him to be able to grasp. He had no idea what he was feeling. All he knew was that his chest tightened whenever Taichi said something sincerely romantic like that. His skin tingled at every touch and his lips burned with every kiss. He really couldn't work out how he'd managed to slaughter the feelings from so long ago that had been resurrected the previous night. If he was worried about things changing between he and Taichi…well, it was kind of late for that now. Things were already changed and there was no undoing any of it.

"Matt?" Taichi's voice alerted Yamato back to the real world. "You know, I wasn't actually serious about that not talking thing…" Yamato stared up at concerned chocolate coloured eyes, desperately trying to get his feelings in order. Taichi blinked uncomfortably under the metallic gaze of his companion. "What? You okay? Say something…"

"I think I love you too." Yamato said abruptly, surprising them both. Taichi was the first to recover.

"That'll do for saying something." He smirked and brought his lips to meet Yamato's. The kiss was soft and lingering, and when their lips finally trailed apart there was nothing more that needed to be said. Except…

"I'm hungry." Taichi said, as if the fact had only just been brought to his attention.

"God, me too. Let's go get breakfast." Yamato answered, slipping from Taichi's grasp and stepping out of the rumpled bed.

Things had changed between them and it would never be the same again. But even if there was no undoing it, it didn't matter to either of them. Because it definitely hadn't been a change for the worse.


Maybe one of these days I'll be able to write a fic that doesn't have an annoyingly sappy ending. Or maybe hell will just freeze over.