Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon.
Author's Notes: Taiora one-shot that I came up with when I should have been working. Slight mentions of other couples.
Why am I always the designated driver?
Simple: Because I don't drink.
No, I'm not straight-edge. And I'm not a super-responsible goody-two-shoes.
I just don't like the way most alchol tastes; the first time I tried some, because Mimi and Taichi kept teasing me about it, I nearly spat it back up again. People tell me the more I have of it, the more I'll start likeing it, but why should I keep having somethiing I know I don't like in the hopes that one-day I'll have made myself enjoy it. It just doesn't seem worth it to me; and looking at my friends right now I'm just comeing up with more reasons why I don't like drinking.
Honestely, why do people do this to themselves? Why do they willing injest something that, in the case they have too much, will make them act like complete morons?
Taichi has fallen off his bar stool about three times now. Everytime he lands with his but on the floor he just smiles his goofy-but cute-smile and sits back down on it. Next to him, Mimi is giggling incessently and just seems to be all hands when it comes to the sober almost rock star, Yamato. He looks positively alarmed everytime her hands start to move in a direction they definitely shouldn't be moving in, and finally, groans and grabs hold of her hands. She just pouts at him. Koushirou and Jyou (who's supposed to be the responsible one of our group) are sitting in their own corner, laughing as Taichi falls off his seat yet again, which nearly causes Jyou to fall off his own.
At least I have Yamato this time to help drive our drunken friends home.
This relives me more than I can say because Yamato is the biggest hand-full when he's drunk.
He once stood up on the bar and tried to strip for the suddenly very happy female patrons of the bar (though none of them could beat Mimi, who kept yelling at him, "Take it off already!").
I see Mimi try to regain her hands from a frustrated Yamato and decide that it's time to go.
Yamato took Jyou and Koushirou home which left me with Taichi and Mimi.
I dropped Mimi off first because she kept sulking the whole time about how she wanted to talk to Yamato. After I left her in her apartment, I could already hear the sound of her dialing Yamato's number; I can already tell that's going to be a very interesting conversation that a sober Mimi will never want to bring up ever again. Taichi slept through most of the ride until I accidently slammed my car door closed after I got back in from Mimi's apartment building.
He blinked at me and then grinned.
It was adorable and all, and I felt something speed up in my chest, but then he yelled, "Sora!" and hugged me from behind while I was trying to drive.
I narrowly missed hitting a couple trying to get into their car.
Taichi smiled sheepishly at me and asked, "Where we going?"
He looked so elated at that I decided not to tell him I was just dropping him off, not staying over.
"Are we having a slumber party? Can we watch anime and stay up all night talking?"
"Whatever you want, Tai."
It got quiet after that, but it was a comfortable silence not an "Crap-I-Don't-Know-What-To-Say-To-This-Person" kind of one. I got a parking spot right in front of Taichi's building and helped him out of the car and to his place; he kept stumbling on the stairs and laughing at himself like in the bar, so I had to keep a really good hold on him.
Not because I wanted to be that close to him or anything.
I just didn't want him to fall down the stairs.
The problem happens because he's not as tractable as Mimi when he's drunk. He insists on not letting me leave unti I tuck him into bed and I was just barely able to prusade him that I wasn't leaving his apartment when he began to change into his pyjamas I was just giving him his privacy. When he's done, I pull the sheets up over him and wish him a good night.
He grabs me by the arm before I can get away and says, "I love you."
I, Takenouchi Sora, have been in love with Yagami Taichi for some years now.
I hadn't always been and to be honest when we were younger I just saw him as some reckless younger brother. But then he grew up and stopped constantly doing stupid things like stealing the rival soccer team's school mascot in an effort to shame them or something. I started to see more of his caring side when he sat up with me when my Dad was in the hospital and then made me breakfast the next morning (alright, it was burnt but the intention was good). And I fell in love.
So I should've been estatic when he said he loved me right?
He was drunk off his ass and probably didn't know what he was saying. Or worse, he could have just been expressing friend-love.
Or even worse, a "You're-Like-A-Sister-To-Me" love.
He probably won't even remember what he said last night.
So I should just forget it ever happend and move on with my life. Argh, why is that so hard to do?
I glare down at the picture I was scketching (of him, of course. Way to get my mind off him.) willing it to burst into flames at the intesnity of my frustration. It doesn't of course; nothing ever bursts into flames when you want it to.
I'm jarred from this line of thought by a loud knocking on my door. I hesitate, not sure if I'm in the mood to talk to anyone right now, but whoever it is out there only knock louder when he doesn't get an imedite responde. Muttering to myself, I open the damn door to see the last person I want to see right now: a very sorry looking Taichi.
Why does my life suck so much?
He just pushes past me and enters my apartment like he owns the place and I just shut the door while trying to think of something to say.
He beats me to the punch and starts, "I just want to apologize for last night." He pauses when I don't turn around, sighs, and continues, "I've made things awkward between us and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. Can we just forget it ever happened?"
He grabs me by the shoulders and turns me around to face him.
"Sora, please, just tell me how to make things better and I'll do it."
I bite my lip, trying to figure out what to do.
He gives me the most pitiful puppy-dog look and I feel like kissing him.
Oh, what the hell.
I kiss him.
He's suprised at first but recovers quickly and kisses back. I pull back to look him in the eye and say, just because I'm acting on my feelings now and not thinking, "I love you."
He smiles. "I think I already told you how I felt last night." He kisses me on the nose. "But I guess, there's no harm in repeating myself is there? I love you, too."
I exclaim, "Hell yes!"
Then I kiss him again.
He doesn't complain.
Author's Notes: Please read and review.