An experimental fic told first person about two other characters, while still being relevant to the narrator. Also, an experiment with present tense, reverting to past tense for flashbacks. Please tell me if it works or fails hard!
Anyways, obligatory Boy X Boy warning, so... be warned!
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, obviously.
Oftentimes I find myself questioning my brother's sexuality. I mean, he says he is straight. In fact he is quite vehement on how straight he really claims to be; often going off about how hot some chick was and how he'd fuck her if given the opportunity. But actions speak louder then words, louder then my brothers words which are loud enough as it is.
He is always with Yamato, always doing something with Yamato. 'Wait Sis, tell Mom I'll be back later, going to the movies with Yamato. Going for lunch with Yamato. Going to Yamato's for night.' So predictable it was, I would ask my boyfriend – and happenstance brother of Yamato – 'Takeru, have you seen Tai lately?' And he would respond with 'Yamato is at the pizzeria four blocks down, the one that always loads on the cheese. Taichi's probably with him.' and I would call him and say, "Hey Taichi, on your way back from the pizzeria mind picking me up some shampoo?' and he would respond 'No problem Sis. Chocolate Vanilla as always?'
And there are other cues too. They'd hold hands occasionally, they'd share food, they'd sleep in the same bed, stuff like that.
I suppose it's just in the DNA. Yagamis and Ishidas/Takaishis are meant to be together like bread and butter.
"So, you guys fucking yet?" Taichi would wink at me.
"Don't be silly, of course not!" And despite the giant contradictory blush I felt burnt into my cheeks; we have never done anything of the sort!
"The furthest we've gone is kissing!" I would defend, only to realise later how pathetic I would sound. Not that it was any of his darn business anyways. What I did with Takeru was our business, and ours alone.
So one night, Takeru and I were on the couch, watching some show neither of us were even interested in, his savoury mouth locked onto mine. We broke for air and as we did so, the door burst open and through it two quarrelling eighteen year old boys, a blond and brunet, eyes locked in glares, hands folded, mouths shooting profanities at each other. They briefly stopped when they seen us on the couch. 'Hi!' and 'Hey guys!' they each said. Taichi winked at me, or us. We still had our arms wrapped around each other, mine over Takeru's shoulders and his around my waist, our faces in close, kissable, proximity. I bluyshed, then the brief intermission was finished and the two once again engaged in verbal combat as they trekked their way to Taichi's bedroom.
"Okay-" Takeru said, raising an eyebrow at me. "Lovers' quarrel?"
I shrugged. "'Cept they aren't lovers." I grabbed my glass of orange juice off the table.
"You don't think so?" Takeru took the drink out of my hands and took a sip, smiling innocently. "I think they are. They've got to be."
"I don't think they've admitted anything to themselves yet," I took the glass back. "Let alone each other."
"I bet they already have," Takeru said. A new grin formed on his face.
"What's the bet?" I asked, sipping on the glass.
He leaned over and whispered into my ear. "If I win, you have to—uh—blow me."
I choked. Little bits of pulp found their way into my windpipe and nose. "Takeru!"
"Sorry," he raised his hands in defence. He reached over and handed me a box of Kleenex. I cleaned the orange juice from my face and nostrils, my cheeks still red and my ear still hot from his breath. My heart was beating quickly in my chest.
"Hey—if you win, I will... you know—"
"I can't believe you'd say that," I said.
"On second thought that maybe wasn't such a good idea," He trailed off, putting away the Kleenex box.
"You are sick Takeru, sick." I scolded him, but I quickly came to my senses – or rather out of my senses and into the realm of teenage lust. "But... I suppose I'll take that bet..." My cheeks were red again. Heck they might as well be permanently red. He smiled a bit, grin growing once he realised that it was safe to do so, and that I wasn't angry at him. How could I be angry at him, he was just too cute. His grin continued to grow until it reached critical mass. I find myself thirsty and attempt to drink my juice again.
He leaned over and whispered into my ear. "Be sure to tell me what victory tastes like."
I choked, again. Little bits of pulp found their way into my windpipe, joining the other bits of pulp lodging there. "Takeru!—"
"Well, I hate this fucking game and it can go straight to hell." Taichi said, flicking over his Monopoly character, ironically a dollar symbol. Taichi hands the last of his cash to Yamato, who grinned throughout the whole exchange. His Park Place Boardwalk hotel combo had been quite the success that round, especially against Taichi who'd landed on the spot repeatedly.
"Your grin can go straight to hell too..."
"Oh you poor baby," Yamato said, a mixture of derision and affection. "You can still give away property."
"I quit." Taichi said.
"You can't quit. You still have property."
"And this is why I hate this game," Taichi repeated. He got up and left, heading off into the kitchen.
"Taichi you can't just walk away," Yamato said.
"What are you going to do? Kick me out of the game?"
"Yes, I will!"
"Well, we wouldn't want that now, would we?"
Yamato sighed. He got up and followed Taichi into the kitchen. They talked to each other but I couldn't make out any words, then the sink faucet opened and I couldn't hear them anymore.
I shrugged. Takeru shrugged. We used the time to kiss each other. Yamato and Taichi had been over for the last few hours and Takeru and I found ourselves wanting some 'personal time' together, without any older siblings distressing us. The water stopped and we pulled apart, our fingers still interlocked.
"Well, it's getting late, let's go to bed!" Taichi said as he stepped back into the living room.
"Goodnight guys," Yamato nodded, following my brother to his bedroom. Takeru and I exchanged shrugs again, an action we found ourselves doing a lot in the presence of our older siblings. Yamato had an eerie way of calming down Taichi...
One morning Takeru and I were sitting on the couch, watching cartoons when we heard ruffling in the kitchen. We went to investigate and found Taichi rummaging through the fridge, wearing only grey briefs.
Taichi slowly turned around to face us, shoulders slouching.
"Oh hey! S-my best friends," He slurred, eyes half closed but still smiling. "Since when do you – uh - stay up so late?"
"Taichi, its eight A.M. We've been up for thirty minutes." I said.
"It's so early, why are you up so early its Sunday for fucks sake."
"We always get up at 7:30," I state matter-of-factly. I examined his face a bit before asking, "You weren't drinking and driving right?"
"No, Jyou drove us home. You know Jyou. Safety this, safety that." He said, slurring his words together.
"Oh. Yeah. Yamato's gonna come over. He's upstairs, kay?"
"Taichi where are you pants?"
"Mhmm?" he looked down, then back again. He shrugged. "I don't sleep with pants on."
"But," I said, "Don't you have company?" He shot me one of those 'who cares' looks. He grabbed a 2 litre of orange juice and shut the fridge.
"Good night Taichi." I said.
Once he had returned to his room, I turned to Takeru.
"Told you," he said smugly. "Sharing a bed, mostly naked. They are totally doing it."
"Isn't it a bit early to leave?" Takeru asked, nonetheless slipping on a light jacket.
"It's never too early. I'd rather go for a nice walk in the park first, if you don't mind,"
"Sure," he says. I fumble for my keys, making sure they were there. I have a habit of doing that obsessively, especially with my cellphone and wallet.
We are both standing outside my apartment door. I am about to close it and lock it when he shouts "Hey, don't forget your brother's bag!"
"Oh right," I say. "Thanks for reminding me." I go and retrieve his bag from the entranceway, a grey duffel bag with the permenant odour of sweat – Taichi's soccer uniform. He had left it here when he went to Yamato's, and would need it for practice tomorrow. And since he wasn't stopping back on the way, and since I had been such an awesome sister, I agreed to stop by Yamato's and drop it off as Takeru and I headed to the theatre. I was going to be early but that was okay. Being early never hurt anyone.
"Do I have everything?" I say.
"I dunno. You got your phone?" Takeru asks.
I check my pocket and confirm. "Yep."
We get to the bottom of the stairs and walk outside on the sidewalk. It's a gorgeous evening, its seven o'clock P.M. and the sun is on its way to the horizon, suspended a few inches above by line of sight. But it retains it's autumn chilliness, and I'm glad Takeru made me wear a jacket.
"Got your keys?"
"Yes Takeru. I got everything I checked,"
"But are you sure."
"...Yes." We walk for a few seconds before I am rummaging through my pockets, stroking off each item on my mental checklist. "You are such a jerk you know I have everything."
"I do. But this is fun," he says, smiling sweetly. I glower at him, but can only hold the look so long until my frustration gives way to his shining smile. I can't stay frustrated at him, even when I want to be."
We approach Yamato's house. Most lights were off but Yamato's car – he and Jyou are the two people of our group that own their own vehicles – was parked in the driveway. We walk up to the front step and nock. We wait a few seconds and nock again. Takeru feels for the nob, and upon discovering the house is unlocked, turns it and opens the door.
"We can't just go in," I say, pulling his arm back gently.
"Why not?" He says. "I live here too, sort of."
"Good point," I say, a tad bit embarrassed. He spent little time here so I don't often view it as his place. We walk in and find music playing, which explains why no one heard my knocking. I am about to shout his name when Takeru holds a finger to his lips.
"I'm going to scare them," Takeru says with an evil grin. I sigh at his childishness but don't protest further. We walk closer to Yamato's room until we can hear faint voices, indistinguishable at first till we got close enough. . . .
"...That was even better then last week."
"It should be. I've been working out."
"I felt it."
"Sorry. There wasn't enough lube."
"That isn't what I meant..."
"Oh. Well, still, we're out."
"That's ridiculous. We just bought that, like, a month ago."
"Of course not, babe."
No. Not good. Not good at all. Why the hell was I listening to this conversation? Takeru's expression is a mixture of humour and horror. I cover my ears, dropping the duffel bag, and we run out of the house as fast as possible.
We are on the front porch, panting slightly. All I can mutter is a weak 'Aaah!'
"What. The. Hell." Takeru shudders.
"This," I begin, scowling. "Is all your fault. I knew we shouldn't have gone in."
He looks like he wants to argue but he quickly submits and apologises. "Sorry."
We walk away in awkward silence, to where I neither know nor care. Just the sound of footsteps and breathing.
"I guess," Takeru says finally, breaking the awkward silence, "I win!" Ah, the awkward silence returns . . . .