Here with Me

Summary: Koushiro has never had a reason be jealous of his best friend, until now. Koushiro x Taichi x Mimi

And I won't go
I won't sleep
I can't breathe
Until you're resting here with me

"Here With Me," Dido

AN: Another really pointless oneshot. I just can't help myself. (Actually I want to write one for virtually every pairing, so wait your turn.)

The first thing that came to the young redhead's mind that morning was how badly he needed to pee.

Groaning as he stumbled to his feet, he walked bleary-eyed towards the general direction of the bathroom adjacent to his bedroom only to find someone had moved it during the night.

Now, Koushiro was a bright boy.

Granted, there were others far more gifted than he, like Jyou for instance, but Koushiro was quick and logical and could make decisions correctly and aptly regardless of the circumstance.

Today was the first time he actually experienced the sensation of behind dumbfounded.

He just stood there in the hallway, staring at the wall where the door to the bathroom was supposed to be. He couldn't understand why it wasn't there, or where it actually was. He wondered vaguely if he was still dreaming, but decided that theory was absurd since even in dreams the pain of this horrific headache would be somewhat more suppressed.

And why was his head hurting so much?

What time was it anyway?

Immensely confused, he turned around and walked back to the bedroom. The curtains were still drawn and he could hear the faint buzz of traffic in the distance. With a hopeless sigh, he flopped back down on the bed and prayed things would make more sense next time he opened his eyes.

Only, when he fell down on the bed again, it wasn't the bed he hit.

It was a person.

Koushiro peeked out of one brown, sleepy eye, and saw he had landed on very pale, very lovely legs.

He frowned, disoriented.

Well, that was odd.

He braced himself with his arms and slowly followed the legs up to a curved hip, a slender waist, a gorgeously full breast, a thin arm and small neck, to the sleeping, angelic face of his best friend.

"Shit!" he hissed suddenly, and in his furious surprise his support slipped and he fell to the floor.

Mimi mumbled vaguely in her sleep and turned to her side, undisturbed.

From the floor, Koushiro buried his face in his hands and swore again. He was not even the swearing type, but this was certainly grounds for a slip. And the fall had only made his headache worse. Oh, gods—the headache. He was starting to remember something, remembering a persistently optimistic and always sociable Mimi had taken him out the night before to get his mind off an unfortunate experience with one of his college classes, and they'd run into some old friends at the bar, and one thing led to another…and another…and another….

Someone tell him he hadn't gotten drunk. Oh, no, no, no….

Panicked, he checked himself.

And to his even greater astonishment, he found himself completely clothed.

Well, he was wearing a different shirt than the one he remembered putting on, but he still had on his jeans, and he seemed more or less put together, or at least much more so than Mimi, whose naked body he couldn't stop staring at. He winced when he realized this, berating himself and feeling a bright red blush fall on his warm face. He stood up quickly and pulled the covers over her, trying to avoid physical contact.

But then he stopped, because when he pulled the sheets over her, he accidentally pulled them off someone else.

Taichi was lying on his stomach, mouth open partly as he slept, his face squashed into the pillow. Their legs still entwined, he had one arm low and protective around her waist, her head neatly tucked under his unshaven chin, like they were meant to fit that way, together.

Koushiro couldn't move, left quite speechless by the sight of him.

It wasn't even that Taichi was ridiculously good-looking; that was definitely Yamato, maybe even Takeru, but Taichi was always the scruffy guy-next-door who wore his football jersey everywhere, with unmanageable hair and even worse manners, with a temper you wouldn't believe and personality that took a while getting used to and then some, with chocolate brown eyes that were as fierce as he was. Somehow, the two boys had lost contact when they went to separate colleges, but before that Koushiro remembered how it was always the three of them—him, Taichi, and Mimi—hanging around and being teenagers when all their other friends started changing and they stayed the same.

No, it was more the fact that when Taichi was sleeping, he looked so harmless and childish it was impossible to be angry with him.

Except, strangely, Koushiro found he was angry.

He dropped the blankets and turned away, walking quickly out to the living room. He stood in front of the couch, not sure why it was getting to be so difficult to breathe and wondering what was making his eyes sting so much. He couldn't understand it, hated not being able to understand, because he always did. Except now, when in the dead silence of the early morning, he stood trembling in the dark apartment with a bad headache and a broken heart.

It was stupid, he knew.

Mimi was his best friend after all. They'd grown up together, been to all the same schools, were the only two to share the same college out of all their old friends. They'd gotten even closer in college, entrusting each other with a lot of truths, a lot of secrets, a lot of heartbreaks.

But there are some things you don't even tell your best friend, and he was one of them.

So now, when he heard them moving in the bedroom, heard his whispers and her giggles, the mattress creaking and the sound of a kiss that Koushiro so desperately wanted to be his, he knew it wasn't anger that kept him from learning to be happy for the two of them. It was something much worse, much more destructive, because last night had only proved the unbearable theory Koushiro had always feared to be true: Taichi would never be his.