Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

Not Fair	By : libek Category: Digimon > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 16017 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Digimon: Digital Monsters, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
DISCLAIMER: See previous parts.

A/N: This wasn't really meant to be broken into three separate parts (it's a one-shot! Just...a really long one-shot that I don't think AFF.Net would like very much ^^;;), so I hope this isn't too disjointed. Poor, poor Yamato-chan -- I'm so mean to him, aren't I?

Not Fair

Part Two

by Libek

"Do I mean what, Yama?"

That was, of course, the exact moment his dad chose to rap on the door again. "Yamato, can't you call him back?" It was hard to miss the note of impatience in the old man's voice -- that certain tone of, Come on, boy, I'm missing work for this, make it worth my while. Not that he didn't have a point.

"I'll be out in a minute, okay?" Yamato tried to assure him.

"No," he heard his best friend utter, and had to press the phone hard against his ear to make out the rest of it. "I'll let you go. I know spending time with your father is important to you." A muffled snicker here, as if he knew that at the moment talking to him had higher priority. Being Taichi, and therefore infuriating, he probably did. "But hey, you can come over to my place toow, ow, if you want, and we'll finish this then."

His mind was racing, as fast as it possibly could, yet Yamato still couldn't seem to get the words out before he heard the dial tone. "Wait, Taichi, at least tell me if --"

And then it was too late.

"Well?" His father seemed oddesitesitant now. "Are you coming? The food's getting cold..."

Since he was surprised that the food had even arrived, Yamato glanced at his alarm clock and had trouble believing what he saw -- he had spent almost forty minutes on that phone call. "Ah, sure, Dad. Be right out. And I mean it this time," he added lightly, scrambling out of bed and making a mad dash for the closet.

His mind was already on tomorrow.

Really, Yamato had meant to roll right out of bed at the crack of dawn. It was Saturday, no school for either of them, so in theory he could have raced right over to see Taichi and found out exactly what the hell was going on before anything but the trains were running. The night before, he had even set an alarm before crawling into bed and passing out from sheer exhaustion. Unfortunately, when Yamato opened his eyes blearily and found the full light of day already streaming in through his blinds, it turned out that the alarm was set for five-thirty PM by mistake.

He cursed, and sat bolt upright in bed, shoving the covers away. He ran a cursory hand through his hair, and it got snagged on the scary bird's nest that tended to replace said hair after a night spent tossing and turning and having wet dreams or nightmares. Wincing, Yamato decided he wouldn't be able to skip his shower, and headed for the bathroom at a dead run.

According to the damned alarm clock, it was almost noon. He had already lost six-and-a-half hours. Hours that could have been spent interrogating his best friend. Sure, Taichi had never said he wasn't gay, but...he'd always seemed plenty interested in girls. Talked a lot about their breasts and asses, anyway. But maybe he was into both? Cock and pussy, like he'd said on the phone?

Was he actually considering the possibility that Taichi might be interested in him? The blond boy paused, strawberry-scented shampoo on his hands, and shook his head hard. Never going to happen. He just wasn't that lucky. Maybe Taichi could like guys and giving head and anal sex, but only if it turned out that he was the only guy he'd never found attractive. That, he could picture.

He set down the shampoo and picked up the conditioner. Tried to focus on using it and the warm water to untangle his hair, instead of Taichi. Anything but Taichi was good. Like, why was his hair such a mess this morning? He had taken care of himself pretty thoroughly last night, so probably it had been the tossing and turning. At least, he didn't remember any dreams -- nightmares or otherwise.

Unless you counted the nightmare where he starstarted jerking off, then got caught by his dad, and ended up on the phone with the guy he'd been masturbating about who now knew he was wet dream material. Oh, wait, no -- that had all really happened. Shit, but his life sucked right now.

Or maybe the problem was that it didn't. If he'd been getting any, he probably wouldn't have had to resort to fingering himself in his dad's apartment.

The blond boy snickered. Then giggled. Then realized he'd been laughing for a good five minutes at his own dirty mind and couldn't stop. The giggling had evolved into hysteria. Fuck, he was going to have a panic attack. Deep breaths, Yamato. Deep breaths. Hadn't he been trying not to think about that? Trying to forget, somehow, that his best friend had by now figured out what a desperate pathetic crush he had on him? Trying so hard.

He hadn't even come out to anyone but his brother yet, and even that had been years ago. Takeru had kind of looked at him funny and told him that that was fine, whatever, but he hadn't really seemed to grasp what the term actually meant. So, they might have to have another go at it when the boy turned fifteen, and that meant that no one really knew.

Except for Taichi, who knew everything.

At least he knew that Taichi could keep a secret, so long as the other boy decided that he wanted to. Which he might or might not, depending on how things went today.

Deep breaths, deep breaths. Life not ending in the blink of an eye. Really.

He finished rinsing the conditioner out of his hair and turned off the water. That was the ticket. So long as he stayed calm, kept his head clear, he would at least be able to get through this day -- whatever it might bring. Yamato sighed, toweled off, and left for his bedroom, or more specifically his closet, to get dressed with hands that only trembled very slightly.

Out in the living room, he was almost feeling like himself again when the dirty dishes assaulted him and stopped him in his tracks, fear momentarily forgotten.

Yamato twitched.

Last night, his father had kept him up until two in the morning watching a marathon of shogun films from the fifties that were, for the most part, really long and boring. Not to say that they hadn't had fun with it, because they had -- albeit in a point-and-laugh sort of way -- but at two he had been on the verge of collapse and had only gone to bed without first straightening up the apartment because his dad had promised to clean up.

This...this was not what Yamato would have called 'clean'. Damn him. Coat over the back of a chair, cigarettes out on the table, empty beer bottles and soda cans -- for the love of god, you could smell the rotting leftover takeout that he hadn't bothered to put away in the 'fridge. If any of the windows had been open to let in a breeze, there would have been flies everywhere.

Briefly, the blond boy vacillated in the hallway -- to tidy or not to tidy -- but eventually he decided that he just could not be bothered, and slammed the door on the way out. Maybe, if he got really lucky, his father would even notice that the place was a pigsty when he got home from work and decide to do something about it.

Well, no, probably not, but Yamato could dream.

On the other hand, he had dreamed an awful lot of things, and none of them had ever come true before. At least, not yet. Maybe he would wait to see how things went with Taichi before saying anything else like that. For all he knew, the brunet would sweep him off his feet the instant he knocked, full of proclamations of undying love. Yamato closed his eyes and tried to picture it. He couldn't. No matter how he tried, he just couldn't imagine the other boy ever wanting him enough to do something so foolishly dramatic.

He had gotten halfway to Taichi's house before he realized how self-deprecating he was being. Very boo-hoo-I-have-a-junior-high-school-crush. That wasn't like him. He, after all, had a band and a hoard of rabid fangirls and someday he'd be world-famous for his sexy voice and pretty face. So what the hell was he afraid of? Square the shoulders, Ishida, and flaunt it while you've got it.

Except...and Yamato could feel his smile slipping away...hadn't that been Taichi's line? Whenever he had started to feel nervous about a girl, Taichi had always come back with that -- he was a frickin' popstar, what did he have to be nervous about -- and then add that the girl would probably just turn to mush at the sight of him. Somehow, Yamato doubted the other boy would have said the same thing about himself. Even if he had liked him, and liked him a lot, 'turn to mush' didn't really seem like the Taichi thing to do. Pin him to the wall and fuck him through his clothes, on the other hand --

Hell. Yamato stopped mid-step and almost didn't notice the people who ran into him. Couldn't be bothered, just at the moment, because it was considerablre ire important to him not to get hard in public, and in order to prevent that, he was going toe toe to think some very unsexy thoughts. Thoughts like Sora. Sora in her tennis uniform. Stupid tennis. Most boring game in the whole universe, and she made sure to get the best tickets for all of her dearest friends. Why couldn't Taichi have done that? He wouldn't have minded having good seats at the other boy's next game. From the good seats, you could actually see the sheen of sweat on him when he -- no, no, not helping, bad thoughts...

Forget tur to to mush. It wasn't fair. Damn Taichi for having this effect on him.

Deeply embarrassed, Yamato carefully untucked his shirt so that the tent in his suddenly way-too-tight designer jeans was a little bit less obvious. Hopefully, when he got to Taichi's, he'd be able to do something about this -- like...like taking a cold shower, because considering any other possible remedies would only make the problem worse right now. What the hell had he been thinking when he picked out these pants? Even knee-deep in his own misery, he still knew what his best friend didhim.him. Baggy was the way to go, in style or not. Not that he looked particularly stylish right now, either -- denim and a red silk button-down. Weren't button-downs the shirts that always got you half-raped in gay porn?

God, he hoped so.

Wait, no. Damn it. His pants were really uncomfortable now, and even the untucked shirt wasn't helping much anymore. Yamato sucked in a gulp of air and started running -- the idea being that if he moved quickly enough none of the complete strangers on the street would notice his raging hard-on. Yeah, right, but at the very least, he would get to Taichi's place sooner this way. The brunet seemed like a compassionate sort of guy -- maybe he'd be up for a mercy fuck.

That had been the right intersection, he was sure of it, and yes, here was the building where his best friend lived. At the front door, Yamato slowed his pace and concentrated on breathing for a few minutes before he even got into the elevator.

Pathetic. A mercy fuck? As if he needed one, or -- seeing as the bulge was still sort of undeniably there -- as if mercy would've been involved. He didn't need anyone to take pity on him, least of all Taichi. When he knocked on the other boy's door, either they would both want each other and fall into bed, or they wouldn't. There would be no misguided sympathy involved. Just sex. Good, hard sex. And maybe a teensy bit of after-sex cuddling, if they were both agreed that it wouldn't be too girly.

Abruptly, Yamato realized that he was staring off into space with a most-likely moronic expression on his face, and hurried onto the elevator. He grinned awkwardly at the other passengers and pressed the button for Taichi's floor, and then turned away from their prying eyes to wipe the corners of his mouth self-consciously. No drool, at least not yet. So far, so good.

The people crowded in behind him at the back of the elevator got off and others replaced them. Two and four, then one and six, then eight and none, all the way up to the thirteenth floor, where Yamato almost collided with someone trying to make this stop one and three. Ordinarily, he might have stopped and apologized, but the thought didn't even occur until the elevator doors were closed and the woman he'd bumped into was long gone. Although, right now, he probawoulwouldn't have bothered anyway. Taichi's apartment was only a few meters away.

Yagami. That was what the nameplate said, neatly and precisely. Yamato traced the contours of the characters with his eyes, reading them very carefully and thinking hard about what they meant, his hand poised over the solid wood of the door. Ready to knock, but hesitating. Ya, that was eight. Just the number, nothing fancy. Like the second character in Taichi's name that meant one. But gami, that meant god. Any one of the numerous gods and goddesses from Shinto. Eight gods. Weren't there more like eight million, altogether? Were the other ones pissed to get left out?

He was wondering why he was the one with all of the rotten luck if Taichi was actively offending the heavens when the front door opened abruptly and made him jump about ten centimeters straight up. For her part, Mrs. Yagami blinked once and then smiled at him. She had a purse over one arm and a coat tucked neatly under the other, as if she were just about to head out.

"Why, hello, Yamato-kun! I should have known you would be the one." She winked in a way that would have been conspiratorial, if Yamato had had the slightest idea what the one was supposed to mean. "You know, he's been up since the crack of dawn and driving me crazy with all this talk about how important fresh air is when you get to be my age -- that bit backfired on him," she added, with a careless and strangely affectionate roll of her eyes. "Let me guess. It's a party, isn't it?"

A party? Probably not in the way she thought. Yamato flushed and hastily slapped a smile on his face. The smile didn't quite measure up to his usual hundred-watt charmers, but it didn't waver or tremble, and that was the important part. Good, solid smiles were a teenager's best defense -- the advantage to them being that an adult could and would interpret a them any way he pleased. As Mrs. Yagami did now, her inquisitive expression vanishing.

"All right, all right. But," and here she prodded him gently in the chest, her face a mask of playful severity, "I'm trusting you to keep this place in one piece until I get back. That includes preventing my son from angering the neighbors. Is that understood?"

"Loud and clear," Yamato reassured her, wondering on the inside whether scaring or disturbing the neighbors would be okay. Depending on how things went...after all, it looked like Taichi had done his best to make sure they were alone, and that had to mean something. Unless it was just his mom going out. "What about Hikari-chan?"

From behind Mrs. Yagami, the youngest member of the household answered for herself. "Yeah, right. You think I'm going to stick around for this?" With a bit of effort, Hikari managed to squeeze between her mother and the door frame, tugging her shoes on as she went. She paused mid-motion and shot him a sly, knowing look. "Oniichan's really pulled out all the stops, you know. You should see the...decorations...in his room."

"Decorations?" her mother repeated innocently. "That's so cute!"

It really wasn't fair, Yamato reflected. He was pretty sure he shouldn't have been able to blush so hard it hurt his face, considering that most of the blood in his body seemed to be in his pants. "Yes," he said, distantly aware that he sounded mechanical. "Cute." The way Hikari had said that, she must have meant --

"Yamato-kun?" Even as she stepped out of her apartment, Mrs. Yagami looked hesitant. "Are you feeling all right, dear? You're awfully flushed..."

"I'm fine!" Yamato shook himself fiercely ande hee her another, more properly dazzling smile. "And I promise, I won't let Taichi wreck anything. No complaints from the neighbors or calls to the emergency ward. You can count on me."

The older woman beamed back at him and nodded, turning to leave. Hikari hot hot on her heels, but over her shoulder he thought he saw her mouth, "Use protection!" It was a sufficiently derailing goodbye, and he stood there outside the Yagami residence with his mouth slightly ajar for a good five minutes before he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulders and spun around in a state of half-panic because he hadn't been expecting that at all. When he saw who it was, he nearly panicked again, even though he had no excuse for not expecting that part of it. After all, this was the place where Taichi lived.

"Hello, Yamato," Taichi said, amused and -- something else, too. Smug, maybe, only not quite that, either. He grinned, wide and definitely smug now. "I thought you might be dropping by."

Yamato's first instinct was to punch him. His second instinct was to kiss him. Neither of these seemed like especially good ideas. "Yeah, of course you did," the blond boy settled on, raising an eyebrow that he hoped looked cocky. "You told me to come over. So, let me in already. These boots aren't the best walking shoes."

"Yama, you don't own any good walking shoes," Taichi retorted, but he stepped back to make room in the doorway and even remembered to shut the door once they were both on the right side of it. "Your shoes are all strictly for loitering, posing, primping, and strutting. Do you normally just teleport from one place to another to spare your feet?"

Strutting? "I do not strut," Yamato protested, and busied himself with taking off the offending pair of boots, keeping his eyes on the floor so that his best friend wouldn't see him smile.

The idea that Taichi was paying that much attention to how he moved set off a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, and...a little lower down, too. He hadn't felt this optimistic since -- well -- ever.

"Oh, yes," the other boy said, with the same strange something that had been in his voice last night. "You strut." He sounded almost fond when he added, "Don't worry, it's a b a bad thing," but the strangeness was still there. Lingering in the air between them, and worse when Yamato dared to glance up at his best friend's face.

Their gaze caught and held.

"Your sister said you decorated your room," he blurted, trying to ease the tension. Or maybe just looking for an excuse to take this into the bedroom. One or the other. Taichi...

The brunet's eyebrows shot up. A deliberate, sexy grin slid over his lips, and he shook his head. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. I wanted them to be a surprise, of course, but you can't have everything, I suppose..." He smirked, and held out his hand, half-joking and half-serious. "Come on, I'll show you."

After a few seconds' hesitation, Yamato took the offered hand and let his best friend lead the way. It gave him the opportunity to watch said friend's rear end through khaki, and reminded him of something else from their conversation on the phone that made him swallow uncomfortably. "Taichi...do you really think I have a hot ass?"

When Taichi faltered, he congratulated himself on having found a way to ask the most important question without making it seem like the most important, but the other boy made a quick recovery.

"You really think I'd say something I didn't mean? But c'mon, Yama. Like you need my reassurance? You know you've got a hot ass."

"Taichi --" Yamato started, not sure whether he should be flattered or upset.

He never got the opportunity to make up his mind, though, because Taichi had suddenly spun around, twisting his arm and yanking him off balance. They landed hard against a wall, the brunet's shoulders striking plaster, and when Yamato had caught his breath, he realized that his best 'friend's' hands were cupping his ass. He ducked his head, again not knowing how to react, but when he looked up, he found Taichi smirking. Not a mocking smirk, either, just a sort of nonverbal, See? I told you so. Then the hands on his butt shifted and squeezed and there was blood rushing everywhere at once -- into his face, and between his legs. He thought he might have squeaked in surprise, because the smirk on the other boy's face widened considerably.

"Aww," Taichi breathed, his voice like warm velvet. "Aren't you cute. Is this for me?"

By way of demonstration, he ground their hips together. Yamato's vision went red and he felt his neck lolling back bonelessly. Two years now. Two years of solid, pent-up, carefully-hidden lust because he'd thought himself a freak and Taichi straight and everything he felt for the other boy impossible. He licked his lips, and pressed their bodies closer together, returning the grind with one of his own. "What do you think?"

Their mouths were bare millimeters apart, but Yamato hesitated, and hovered there instead of kissing him. He could hardly breathe.

"Yes," he whispered. "Yes, it's for you, and you're not funny, so would you hurry up and fuck me already?"

Taichi stared at him for a second, expression vacant, and in that second Yamato thought he saw the beginnings of a lust-fueled glaze starting in on his eyes, but then the Keeper of Courage blinked and smiled. Slow, silken, and so predatory that it made him shiver, just a little. "Tempting. Very tempting. And I'd love to, but...not just yet. Not out here. Everything we need is in my room, Yama. I spent ages getting all of this stuff together, and it's not going to waste."

He was kidding. He had to be kidding. With a small noise of frustration, the blond boy went to close the distance between their mouths, wanting at least that much and no longer worried about getting rejected -- confident, for that one brief moment, that Taichi at least wanted him physically. The rest of it, he wasn't so sure about, but he could deal with that later. Right now...

Lips met cheek. Slowly, disbelievingly, he opened his eyes. Taichi had turned his head sharply at the last possible second. "What are you doing?" God, he sounded so afraid. He was so afraid. Earlier, he thought he could have taken it, would have at least managed to fake being able to take it, but not anymore. You weren't allowed to change your mind this far along. You just weren't.

"What do you mean, what'm I doin'?" Then the brunet actually looked at him, and something in his face must have betrayed his fear and panic, because Taichi sobered instantly. "Hey, no. I didn't mean it like that, stupid. Pretty much the opposite, really. See," and he cracked a grin that was more of a leer than a proper smile, "I just know that once we start kissing, I won't be able to stop. And then we'll end up doing it right here. None of that for you, Yama. In my room."

Embarrassed but pleased nonetheless, he nodded. As long as he wasn't being rejected, he could afford to be a little bit patient. Yamato waited to be let go. He wasn't. Instead, Taichi picked him up so that he yelped and had to wrap his legs around his captor's waist or risk being dropped. "Taichi! I can walk by myself!"

The other boy just gazed up at him, eyes dark with intent. "I never said you couldn't." He took a pointed step forward.

"...oh," Yamato said in a very small voice, and bit his lips to keep from moaning.

Taichi's odd, plodding gait was a horrible tease, with his dick trapped against the brunet's belly. The fear and the conversation had softened him a little, but this fixed that problem completely, and by the time he heard the bedroom door close behind them, he was a throbbing, hypersensitive mess and couldn't keep his eyes open or do much of anything besides cling to his former best friend.

"Well? Do you like it?"

He tried to speak but only managed a whimper, and felt more than heard Taichi's answering laugh -- a vibration in the chest that he was pressed so tightly against. Irritated, Yamato leaned back in the other boy's arms just enough so that he could glare at him. Just whose fault did Taichi think it was that he had become so pitiful, anyway? It had just occurred to him that the brunet probably wouldn't have found that a terribly convincing argument as to why he shouldn't be laughing when Taichi bent his head.

"Okay, okay. I won't laugh at you. Just tell me what you think, and we can get started."

What he thought? Confused, Yamato looked around the room. He had no idea whaichiichi was talking about. "It's, uh -- it's nice," he muttered, trying and failing to keep the irritation out of his voice. Well, there was a sort of lidless pink box in the far corner. Did that count? Yamato struggled to focus. He was pretty sure he was supposed to comment on something other than the room's niceness. Wait, near the dresser -- a glint of silver. Bowls on the floor. No, more like dishes. "Did you get a new pet?"

For some reason, Taichi seemed to find that question hilarious. The other boy hesitated, moistening his lips. "You could say that, I guess. Never mind, okay? It's not important."

To be continued...
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Not Fair