Title: Good Things Come In Threes

Fandom: Digimon

Pairing: Daisuke/Hikari/Takeru

Rating: PG-13

Word count: 954

Summary: Daisuke, Hikari and Takeru all understand that some things require copious amounts of alcohol to evolve. And that it's worth it.

Takeru doesn't remember.

He doesn't want to remember.

Except, yeah, he kind of does.

Because Daisuke is curled up against his chest, and Hikari's lying across his legs, and Takeru is wearing Hikari's bra.

Which leaves her pleasantly exposed.

And, damn, his head hurts.

Daisuke snuggles closer when Takeru tries to pry him away, and his hair is messy and ticklish against Takeru's skin.

His legs are numb under Hikari's weight, and he sighs and gives up on moving.

It must have been that karaoke bar, with the three-for-the-price-of-two drink offer that suited them perfectly. And all the drinks were bright and cheerful and adorned with fruit and fake flowers, and, God, did he really sing the theme tune to Shaft?

With Daisuke on backing vocals?

And, not to be egotistical or anything, but his singing voice isn't all that bad; he does come from the same family as Yamato, after all. But Takeru can definitely remember struggling to make his voice sound sufficiently deep, and he can definitely remember Hikari laughing until she almost threw up.

It's not the first time they've gone out and gotten completely wasted. Not the first time by a long stretch.

They pretty much perfected their odd little dynamic in High School.

They've woken up before in various states of undress, too, although Takeru can't ever remember them getting quite so … Well, usually they end up wearing at least a little more than just their underwear.

Oh God, are those Hikari's panties that Daisuke's wearing?

And why is she wearing Takeru's boxers?

He guesses that means the unfamiliar boxers he's wearing belong to Daisuke.

They'd been out the night before to comfort Daisuke, after another relationship drove straight into a brick wall. Daisuke went through women like socks, and loved them all, but never managed to hold on to one for more than a few weeks.

Then the evening had turned into a celebration, because it was the first time the three of them had all been single at the same time for about five years, pretty much since they hit puberty. So they indulged in some heavy, drunken flirting with anyone who caught their eye, comfortable that nobody would have to stay on their best behaviour, lest they cheat on their other half.

And then they'd come up with that stupid game, Daisuke had come up with that stupid game, and for every kiss one of them earned from a random stranger, the others had to buy them a drink.

They'd stopped, he seemed to recall, when Hikari had lost the ability to stand.

Usually she could drink Takeru and Daisuke under the table, which led to a few worrying questions about how many men she'd ensnared.

Takeru couldn't quite remember them getting home, although he did remember Daisuke disappearing into the kitchen the second they stumbled into the apartment.

He and Hikari had snuggled up on the couch and fought over what to watch, (he wanted action, she wanted horror), and he'd licked her neck and then they'd been a heap on the floor, wrestling and clutching and giggling and kissing.

Which wasn't really unusual. They'd kissed plenty of times in the past. It was just another part of their friendship.

And then Daisuke had stumbled back in, throwing popcorn at them and demanding they stop or at least take some clothes off.

And Daisuke hadn't been able to help them decide on a movie either, didn't care since both genres had sufficient enough violence to keep him entertained, and somehow they'd ended up watching the Shopping Channel.

So, yeah, pretty normal night for the three of them.

He was fairly certain it had been Hikari who'd broken the spell by demanding he kiss Daisuke.

He couldn't quite remember who made the first move, but Takeru knew that it hadn't been as strange as he'd expected it to be, having Daisuke's tongue in his mouth.

Hikari had moved behind Takeru, tugging his shirt up, and Daisuke moved away so she could pull it over his head, and then Daisuke's mouth was back, and his hands were on Takeru's chest, and Hikari's lips were on the back of his neck, and it all seemed a little too much like an ambush to be a coincidence.

He wouldn't put it past them to have discussed it, to have planned the whole damn thing.

It was all very fuzzy after that; Hikari's small fingers, Daisuke's strong hands, not being able to tell who was making what noises, and feeling so lost, and feeling like he'd found something that had been missing for the longest time.

Hikari stirs, managing to dig her elbow into Takeru's thigh, and he winces.

She blinks up at him through smudged mascara and grins sleepily.

He blushes and nods to her naked chest.

Hikari looks down and giggles, winks at him as reaches down to the floor and snags Daisuke's t-shirt.

He stretches his freed legs as she slips it on, mussing her hair even more, and then she's standing up, arms reaching for the ceiling, on the balls of her feet, rolling her head until something cracks. And then the tension's slipping out of her, and she's perfectly awake, but his head still hurts, and he can't help but boggle at her capacity for alcohol.

"Juice?" she asks, and he nods, suddenly realising how damn dry his throat is.

Hikari pauses to lean down and snap the elastic of her panties so it connects with Daisuke's skin with a satisfying 'slap'.

Daisuke groans and buries his face against Takeru's throat. "Takeru, make her stop bullying me," he whines.

And Takeru smiles at Hikaru, and ruffles Daisuke's hair, and thinks yeah, this could work.