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Exposure	By : libek Category: Digimon > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 8494 -:- 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
- 3
- 4
- 5
DISCLAIMER: See previous parts.

A/N: Originally, this and the next chapter were one in the same, so I don't have very much to say here. Oh, except that the first part of Yamato's name -- "Yama" -- means mountain. Which may sound random, but will make sense in a little while. I just wanted you to know why Akira makes the mistake.

Exposure

Part Three: Visitors

by Libek

Taichi opened the door at eleven o'clock that night. He was grouchy and irritated in the way that only a man who's woken up in a puddle of lukewarm chocolate syrup can relate to. It had started out freezing cold because Yamato liked that. He liked anything cold, actually, especially between his legs, and the brunet giggled stupidly for a moment before realizing he had a cat pawing distastefully at his stomach and the funny brown stuff that stuck to her.

  It hadn't quite hit him yet as he stumbled from the bedroom that Yamato would never have rung the bell at his own apartment, so he was well and truly shocked to see a stranger standing on his welcomematt. Well, perhaps "stranger" was an exaggeration. The man was probably one of Yamato's bandmates; he had only met them a couple of times and then it was only for a few seconds in badly-lit backstage areas. Plus, he was pretty sure he'd been drunk on at least one occasion. None of this made for a very good recall.

  The fellow had greenish hair, a sort of dark olive color, shaved close to the neck with ragged bangs. There were a couple of silver earrings puncturing his right ear, but none in his left. And he looked very relaxed, like he might be on something.

  "Mavi?" Taichi asked doubtfully.

  A slow shake of the head. "Sekyou. Mavi would have punched you in the face by
now."

  He scowled, and bit off a sharp retort as something nasty occurred to him. "Yama-...Yamato's all right, isn't he?" The pet-name vanished from his vocabulary as it always did in public, almost unconsciously; easy to remove as a swearword in his mother's presence. Except that that never hurt.

  "Oh..." Sekyou smiled faintly, a tad unpleasantly. "As well as can be expected."

  "What?!" He wasn't sleepy any more. Not the least bit. In fact, he had Sekyou with his back against the wall in seconds. "What did you do to him?!"

  Actual laughter. The other boy put his hands over Taichi's where they drew ever nearer to his throat. "Calm down. We haven't hurt him, I swear." He paused. A calculated action. Taichi loosened his grip ever so slightly. "Thank you. Look, I know you love him, but would it hurt any to put me down?"

  He got his wish, if involuntarily. The brunet backed up half a meter, and stared at him, mouth groping around for the eventual, "How did you know?"

  "How did he know? Earth to boyfriend, Yamato's come out."

  This voice did belong to Mavi. He was shorter than either of them, and dug his hands into his pockets, squaring his shoulders to make up for it. After studying Taichi shrewdly for a moment, he sighed.

  "You must be great in bed. It can't be anything else."

  "Ex...excuse me?" the brunet choked out, still somewhere in the early stages of shock. He'd wanted everyone to know, of course, but after years of careful secrecy, he found himself floundering with their relationship out in the open.

  Mavi's slight frown only deepened. "Oh, and such wonderful conversation skills. Sek, he's got no sense of humor. Are you sure it's too late to find Yamato someone else?"

  Sekyou's lips quirked. "I'm fairly certain. Why aren't you waiting in the car?"

  "Because," Mavi said shortly. After a pause long enough to let them know that no further explanation was required, he added, "I'm tired of having Takashi ask me every five minutes whether Yamato's going to be okay. If Akira were being sentient right now, he'd have followed me up."

  "I haven't left you alone for five minutes," Sekyou pointed out good-naturedly.

  "No? Felt like a fucking eternity. God, I never realized Takashi was such a whiner."

  "He is where Yamato's concerned."

  "Don't mean to interrupt," Taichi cut in, doing so. He'd regained his composure -- to a certain extent. "But what the hell do you mean he's been asking if Yamato's all right? What happened to him?"

  "Oh, you are awake then," Mavi commented breezily. "Look, Sekyou, it can talk."

  "Shut-up," Taichi snapped. "Who the fuck do you people think you are, showing up in the middle of the night and insulting me? Tell me where my boyfriend is or I will tear you both apart with my bare hands!"

  Sekyou didn't blink. "He's downstairs in the van. You'll know which one because the lights are on and Akira can't figure out how to turn the wipers off."

  "You mean he won't bother," Mavi put in with a faint smirk, still eyeing Taichi. He turned to Sekyou as the brunet fled, and the faint smirk widened considerably. "You know, I think I like him."

  "You'd better not. Yamato will skin you alive," Sekyou replied with a laugh, closing the Ishida-Yagami apartment door behind them.

  Mavi pretended to look thoughtful. "Maybe. You think he'd share?"

  "I think there's a better chance of a snowball fight in hell."

  "Ah, well," the drummer lamented, taking off his coat. "I guess I'm going to die a confirmed old heterosexual, surrounded by groupies on a silk mattress. Such is the sad hand dealt by fate. Hello, and who's this then?" he asked suddenly, kneeling down to meet a tabby kitten with bright green eyes.

  Sekyou looked up, curious. "That must be Teishi. The way Yamato tells it, I thought she'd be six times that size and long-haired. She looks innocent enough..."

  "Famous last words," Mavi remarked carelessly, trying to get her to bite his finger and not succeeding. She just gave him this look which said, "You MUST be joking."

  "I'll make some tea, shall I?" Sekyou asked from the kitchen. "It's been a rough night."

  "I'm fine, thank you."

  Sekyou gave him a withering look. "Not for you, idiot. It's for Taichi and Yamato."

  Mavi stuck out his tongue.

*   *   *

The rain outside still fell in sheets. Although standing around was getting him soaking wet, Taichi did an admirable job of ignoring it. He spotted the van almost immediately, but had difficulty getting its occupants to notice him. The music was playing much too loudly and the men inside appeared to be yelling at each other. In frustration, he shook the handle and almost hit himself when the door opened. It hadn't been locked. Now that he could hear what they were saying to each other, it seemed they couldn't.

  "-- THE WHAT?!"

  "AKIRA -- DOWN THE -- RIGHT NOW! YOU'RE -- TO WAKE -- !"

  "WHAT? I DON'T CARE -- CAN SEE -- THE MOUNTAINS FROM HERE!"

  Taichi reached over calmly and shut the stereo off.

  "THAT'S NOT WHAT I SAID! I SAID YOU WERE GOING TO WAKE YAMATO!" Takashi thundered in the sudden quiet. He brought his hands down from his ears rather cautiously.

  Akira blinked. "I thought we wanted him awake," was all he said.

  Takashi opened his mouth to respond, and then stopped short, staring at Taichi. "And who the devil might you be?" he asked bluntly.

  "Yamato's boyfriend," Taichi replied in kind, and took a moment to enjoy the immense pleasure which radiated from those simple words. Then he had to take a step back because Takashi had shoved his face into close quarters.

  "You'll do, I guess," he said reluctantly, pulling away again. Then, after a moment's thought, added, "For now."

  "It's so nice to know you all have such warm feelings for me," Taichi put in sarcastically, already crawling into the van. "Where's Yamato?"

  "Right here," the blond mumbled sleepily, sitting up from where he'd been lying under a blanket in the way back and holding his head lightly. Takashi was at his side in a heartbeat, feeling his forehead and asking how he felt. "I'm fine!" Yamato told him, a bit sharply, catching the hand. "Jeez. Don't pester me right now, I'm not in the mood."

  Takashi looked more than slightly taken aback, and Yamato sighed, patting his shoulder awkwardly.

  "I'm fine, Takashi. I just have a slight headache. Thank you for asking."

  The other boy nodded, and Akira snorted faintly, causing his bandmates to look up expectantly. It was an unusual gesture, coming from the youngest member of their group.

  "Akira?"

  "Oh, don't mind me," he said, still looking amused. "It's just that Takashi's been going on and on about you being in some sort of coma, and now we find it's only a headache."

  Takashi flushed. "How would you know? Like you ever pay attention to what's going on."

  "I pay more attention than you think," Akira said cryptically.

  "That wouldn't be very difficult," Yamato mused, "as we think potted plants are more aware of their surroundings than you sometimes."

  "Excuse me. But would someone mind telling me what's going on?" Taichi asked, and the blond was startled to find the voice all but in his ear. Anyone else encroaching on his personal space would have set off all sorts of silent alarms, but Taichi...well, Taichi was different. He'd grown accustomed to the other boy, comfortable with him. His body was more than used to not minding Taichi's presence. Enough so that he almost forgot to push the brunet's hands away when they settled on him in a more than friendly manner.

  Takashi laughed openly. "Oh, you don't have to bother with that anymore."

  "...What?" The color drained slowly from his face. Fearful.

  "Well, we'd appreciate it if you got a room first," Akira went on, but Takashi was frowning suddenly.

  "He doesn't remember." Not a question.

  "You told them you were gay, Yama," Taichi murmured, and wrapped his arms around the blond when he started to tremble.

  "Yamato!" Takashi cried out, giving him a little shake. "You're not going to faint on us again! It's all right, I promise. We're not mad or anything. Maybe a hair ticked off that you didn't mention it sooner, but that's okay! We understand, really!"

  Taichi, who had never known Yamato to faint for anything, asked him to repeat that last bit.

  "Out like a light," Akira confirmed, still softly, watching Takashi's efforts to keep the vocalist on their planet this time. "It was really kind of funny. Before any of us could say anything, too. I guess the stress of the moment must've gotten to him."

  Abruptly, Yamato pushed Takashi away. "I'm fine. You can stop shaking me. What's Taichi doing here?"

  "We're outside your apartment building," Takashi reported sulkily, clearly annoyed at having been shoved off. "Sekyou thought he might be worried."

  Taichi gave Yamato a little squeeze to let him know he had been.

  "Besides," Akira added with some of his peculiar dry humor, "you weren't doing us much good at practice. Sekyou tried tying you to your guitar, but it didn't work. We had no choice but to take you home."

  "And now," Takashi went on in a dreamy sort of way, "when nothing else would work, not even Akira's awful Shonen Knife CD --"

  "Hey!"

  "-- a mere word from your Prince Charming breaks the spell. Well," he amended, casting a disapproving glance in Taichi's direction, "sort of."

  "Leave my boyfriend alone, or I'll feed you all to Garurumon," Yamato muttered.

  Taichi's eyes widened as the other two laughed. "You told them? About the Digital World?"

  "Sure," Yamato said with a shrug and halfway into a yawn. "Why not?"

  Before Taichi could think up a good response, Takashi asked, "What do you suppose is taking Sekyou and Mavi so long?"

  Although he'd been on the verge of dozing off, the blond suddenly jerked out of Taichi's arms to stare at him. "Taichi, you didn't leave those two alone in our apartment, did you? You'd never be that stupid, right? Please tell me you didn't do that!"

  What with the way his beloved's voice kept jumping octaves, Taichi seriously considered lying. "Um...err..." he tried, and backpedaled at Yamato's rapidly darkening expression. "No! But they might have let themselves in. I was just worried about you!" the brunet finished desperately, hands going up in a last ditch effort to protect his face. Of course, where Yamato was concerned, maybe he should have shielded his groin instead.

  The other boy wavered momentarily, weighing sentiment against fury before apparently deciding that his real priority should be the preservation of their apartment. Yamato flung himself in the general direction of the van's door and wrenched it open to run out into the rain for the second time that night.

  "Yama!" Taichi yelled after him.

  "He's going to catch pneumonia if he keeps this up," Akira murmured, and was largely ignored.

  "I don't understand!" The brunet rounded on his companions. "What's so bad about leaving -- err --"

  "Sekyou and Mavi," Takashi supplied, curling his upper lip. Taichi got the distinct impression that this latest infraction had not improved the musician's opinion of him in the slightest. Nor did he seem inclined to answer the question.

  With a sigh and a bit of an exasperated look in his friend's direction, Akira picked up the thread. "I can't speak for anyone else, but the last time I left Mavi alone in my house, I came back to find that he'd convinced the Sprats to paint my room black. Plus, my bed was against a different wall, but I didn't notice that straight away. Couldn't sleep right for weeks."

  "But that's you," Takashi pointed out. "Your family's like a den of rabbits. Of course there's going to be trouble if you let Mavi alone with a bunch of eight and ten-year-olds."

  Taichi felt vaguely sick to his stomach. "Mavi wouldn't really do that...would he?"

  "Well," Akira began, laying his chin over the back of his seat, "I left him alone for two hours. You've barely been gone ten minutes. Worst thing he'll have done is replaced the curtains. Although...if you don't have any, he might get frustrated and start tearing up the carpet." Then he went back to the argument at hand. "Takashi, my family is not like a rabbit's den. Besides, Shinseru was with them, and he's nearly fifteen!"

  Whatever Takashi might have had to say in reply was lost as Taichi rolled out of the van and barreled towards the apartment building at full speed, coming quickly to the conclusion that there were far too many flights of stairs between the ground floor and his room. He caught himself reaching for a key he wouldn't need and instead went right in.

  Yamato was yelling, and doing a lot of it. He was also in the kitchen, which relieved his boyfriend tremendously as it meant that no serious damage had been done. Well, not serious to his mind. It sounded like Mavi had messed with the Immortal Order of Pots and Pans, in which case Taichi could almost have felt sympathetic. As often as he himself had been informed that there was a rhyme and a reason to the poetry of Ishida Yamato's kitchen, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that it was all free verse. The drawers in which various impliments were kept seemed completely random, and he had been burned at least a dozen times by Yamato's weekly schedule of rotating silverware. They had four supposedly distinct sets, which WOULD be kept together and alernated every full moon on penalty of death, or something like that.

  This, more than anything else, had caused Taichi to surrender the kitchen completely after approximately two months of living together. Yamato was a better cook than him anyhow, as he'd said when the blond asked why. Goodness knows what a full explanation would have gotten him. Probably a week on the couch and a whole bunch of kitchen flashcards. No thank you. He snuck past the argument -- lecture, more accurately -- and found Sekyou in exactly the place he was least wanted: Their bedroom.

  The older man appeared to be examining the traces of chocolate syrup. At Taichi's entrance and subsequent explicative, he raised an inquiring eyebrow.

  "I eat in bed," Taichi found himself saying, and it occurred to him that this was probably the lamest excuse uttered since the dawn of creation.

  "With handcuffs," Sekyou prompted.

  "With handcuffs. Uh, nothing like the security of being locked up in your own home." With any luck, he'll choke on his own laughter and die before this gets any more embarrassing.

  "You have women's clothing in your closet." Not exactly an accusation, and edged with what sounded like barely suppressed amusement.

  "Ah, that." The smile on face felt like it was made entirely out of burning rubber. "Bought some things for a friend of ours. A female friend! Mimi. She's visiting from the States. She ordered them, we picked them up. Yamato doesn't want them to wrinkle. You know how he is."

  A nod from the green-haired man, followed by an odd cough which sounded suspiciously like, "I thought I did." He looked away from the closet in question, and back at Taichi's face with more amusement. "Some of them are made of vinyl."

  Strangled though he was, Taichi still managed to shrug. "Mimi's a wild girl."

  "I'll bet." He tilted his head towards the ceiling and changed tactics. "I can see why she asked you two."

  "You can?" Taichi balked, and then made a valiant -- if belated -- attempt to control his surprise.

  "Sure. She and Yamato are exactly the same size."

  The first question that sped to Taichi's lips was how a casual acquaintance knew his Yamato's dress size, but fortunately, he caught it in time. He would ask Yamato instead, and only start to panic if the blond didn't know.

  Mavi poked his head around the corner a moment later, bearing only the mildest resemblance to a man who'd gotten in a fight with a semi and lost. He was lucky. Yamato's rants often left a body feeling as if he had only just survived a train wreck. Fitting, since that was pretty much what they felt like during, too -- terrified confusion and a sense of mounting horror while everything goes wrong. Mavi seemed slightly dazed.

  "There you are, Taiki. Are you going to have your tea, or can I? Hey, not a bad bed," he added, brushing past Taichi and sitting on it. "Firm enough for sex, yet not so uncomfortable you can't sleep in it. Where'd you buy this thing?"

  "It's Taichi," the brunet replied irritably.

  Mavi smiled innocently. "Why should I remember your name when you can't remember mine?"

  Not wanting to admit that the other boy was right, Taichi grit his teeth. "Get out of here, both of you! This is private, okay?"

  Sekyou raised an eyebrow and glanced at Mavi. "What do you think -- did he get it from Yamato, or did Yamato get it from him?"

  Thankfully, Takashi chose that instant to appear in the doorway. If he hadn't, Taichi might have resorted to screaming in frustration. The young man opened his mouth, and then closed it again. Apparently, seeing them all in the bedroom gave him pause for thought. He cleared his throat. "Yamato's taken over your tea, Sekyou, and he's sort of moved on to light snacks. Does anyone mind tekamaki?"

  No one bothered to answer him. Mavi was busily engaged in making the bed squeak. "You should check this out, Takashi! I swear, it's one of the most perfect mattresses I've seen in my life!"

  Takashi's face went a funny shade of mauve. He shook his head. Sekyou chuckled.

  "Well, I think I've got enough blackmail material. How's about we take Yamato up on his offer?"

  The fascinated expression on Mavi's face did awful things to Taichi's stomach. Truthfully, he wasn't hungry for anything right now, not even Yamato. Well, maybe Yamato. But only if he could get all of these people out of their apartment. Grumbling, he leaned against the wall and made no move to leave until everyone else had already gone to the dinning room. Akira seemed to be quietly riffling through their music collection. Taichi ground his teeth together.

  "Look," he began, glancing around to make sure he had most everyone's attention, "I'm glad that you brought Yamato home. I really appreciate it."

  "But?" Mavi prompted.

  "BUT this is our apartment and it's really late and I have to work tomorrow. Okay?"

  None of them looked terribly impressed, but after a long silence, small noises of acknowledgement were made. Sekyou started to respond, but obviously thought better of it and only nodded. Taichi couldn't help feeling somewhat satisfied. This would be the first time anything had gone his way since he'd gotten up that morning.

  Then Yamato wandered out of the kitchen, toweling his hands off on a dishrag, and smiled. "So, what's everyone having?"

  "Nothing," Taichi replied shortly, cutting Mavi off. "They were just leaving."

  Yamato arched a thin, skeptical eyebrow. "Were they now." But instead of waiting for an answer, he took Taichi's arm and once more smiled blandly at the group. "Could you excuse us for just one moment? Thanks."

  They stared back, and Mavi shrugged indifferently, ignoring Taichi's nervous expression. Nervous because, well, Yamato's grip on his arm was a little too TIGHT. Clawing pitifully at it, he was nevertheless dragged off into the kitchen, whereupon Yamato released him and folded his arms over his chest. Teddy bear aprons weren't meant to look that intimidating.

  "What have you got against my friends?" he asked, voice like a spring coiled more tightly than was good for it.

  "Honestly?" Taichi asked with a touch of involuntary sarcasm, and watched the spring wind that much tighter. He swallowed and gave the room a brief assessment. One door, one window over the sink. Yamato was blocking the door; he'd obviously anticipated escape attempts. As for the window, they were at least six flights up. And if Taichi had thought he could fit his shoulders through it, he would most definitely have tried.

  "This is my band," Yamato informed him quietly, but menacingly nonetheless. "They've put up with an awful lot from me, not the least of which is your stupid tendency to want sex right before any important gig."

  Well...that much was true. He did have pretty awful timing. The brunet studied his beloved's figure absently, and then found himself staring. Really awful timing.

  "...And are you even listening to me?!" Yamato demanded a minute later, so sharply that he couldn't be tuned out.

  Taichi blinked and tried to get his eyes back up to the boy's face. It wasn't working. Goddammit it all to hell, why does he have to be so fucking hot when he's angry?

  Somewhere in the universe, there is a small, vengeful gnome who keeps a list of all the embarrassing things people do to themselves. It goes in order of 'best' to 'worst' and is rated by personal entertainment value. Taichi's name moved to the head of that list when Yamato looked down to follow his line of sight and ended up somewhere in the vicinity of his own groin. The blond gave an indignant exclamation, and came up again with fire in his eyes.

  Taichi threw his hands up in self-defense. "Baby, Sweetheart, Cupcake..."

  Yamato only twitched. Then the screaming began.

  "YOU PIGHEADED BASTARD, HOW DARE YOU THINK ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT WHEN I'M TRYING TO TALK TO YOU?! AS IF YOU DON'T HAVE ENOUGH TO ANSWER FOR ALREADY! INSULTING MY FRIENDS LIKE YOU'RE THE ONLY PERSON IN THE WHOLE WORLD!!"

  "...If you'd just let me explain..."

  "EXPLAIN?!" the blond shrieked indignantly. "What's there to EXPLAIN, Taichi?! You filthy, inconsiderate BASTARD!" And he was at full-steam once more. "I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'RE ACTING THIS WAY! Strike that, I CAN believe it! WHAT'S THE MATTER WITH YOU?! AREN'T I ALLOWED TO HAVE FRIENDS, TAICHI? AREN'T I?!"

  Realizing after an expectant pause that this one required an answer, Taichi dutifully stammered out, "Of course, Yama-chan, of course!"

  "LIAR! IF THAT'S TRUE, THEN WHY ARE YOU TREATING THEM THIS WAY!?" He looked amused suddenly. "You're not jealous, are you? Of the band?"

  "No, of course not!" Taichi snapped harshly, before he'd really thought about it. And backpedaled the instant Yamato's eyes narrowed. "I mean...what, that crowd?" he attempted, laughing nervously.

  Yamato's arms folded neatly over his chest again, and he paused long enough to let his boyfriend know what a mistake this question had been. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked finally, the words soft and frozen.

  "Err, well, they're all straight, aren't they?" Taichi was genuinely confused.

  The other boy did a very good impression of an irritated bird. Anyone else would have thought he was offended. "I'll have you know, Sekyou's bi."

  "Well, good for him." Then it sunk in. "He's WHAT?"

  Yamato's jaw unhinged slightly, obviously not having expecting such a strong response. "Bisexual. My god, Taichi, does that bother you?"

  "You bet it bothers me!" the brunet fairly snarled, his earlier fear forgotten as he crossed the kitchen floor all at once to take his beloved by the shoulders. "How did you find out, Yama? Did he tell you?" Even more upset, "Did he want you?"

  "Jeez, Taichi, you really are jealous, aren't you? I was joking about that!"

  "Answer the question, Ishida. NOW."

  The blond tried to take a step back, only to find that the other boy's grip wouldn't allow it. His boyfriend looked angry enough to take Sekyou's head off, and guitarists weren't that easy to come by. "Calm down, okay? Sekyou didn't say anything to me, but Mavi mentioned it after destroying my kitchen." A pause and a sigh here. "I guess my confession made them all feel really guilty or something. Seems like Takashi broke a window when he was nine, and Akira's the one who lost my diskplayer last year, but that doesn't really matter since it was broken anyway. Then Sekyou said he was bi, and things were tense again. Apparently, Mavi cleared his throat and announced that he was a transsexual alcoholic who slept with his own mother. Wouldn't surprise me, he's never been able to stand serious atmospheres..."

  Taichi frowned, still not happy. "He didn't hit on you, though?"

  Yamato paused, a tad uncertainly, and winced when the grip on his arm tightened. "Taichi, you're hurting me."

  "He DID, didn't he?!"

  "No!" the blond cried at once, exasperated. "Sekyou didn't hit on me, okay?"

  "Good." Taichi let him go, and kissed his forehead while Yamato rubbed his arms for circulation. "I wasn't really in the brutally murdering mood."

  The other boy sighed, and rested against his boyfriend's chest thoughtfully. "You know, you're way too possessive of me."

  "Sorry." Another soft kiss. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

  "...Taichi?"

  "Yeah?"

  "Why were you trying to get rid of them, anyway?"

  The brunet hesitated, combing his fingers through Yamato's hair to ease his own mental processes. No matter how he pictured the explanation, his beloved always became hurt and defensive before moving back into anger. And he didn't want the blond angry with him, though it really was awfully sexy the way his eyes would crackle and snap -- burning with their own internal light. Taichi took a slow, deep breath of his beloved's scent, picking out fresh rain and a pleasant rich smoky quality he'd absorbed from years of working over a gas stove. Yamato insisted that they were better than electric ones despite the risk of a leak because the food just didn't taste right otherwise. It was one of a thousand tiny things that made him who he was, uniquely Yama. One of the tiny things that Taichi loved so well.

  He'd completely forgotten to answer the question, but when Yamato realized he was being sniffed, when he felt the other boy's hands shifting, almost unconsciously running up and down his flanks, the blond decided it was fairly obvious and would have pushed him away for this further demonstration of pigheadedness except that he didn't want to now. It felt nice.

  "I can ask them to leave, if you like," he found himself saying all of a sudden, and felt embarrassed -- not by his change of position but by the eagerness that had crept in stealthily. He wanted to be alone with Taichi, wanted those gentle wandering hands to stroke his bare skin, wanted to be bound hand and foot so that he couldn't so much as breathe of his own volition...whoops, how did that get in there?

  They'd been...experimenting of late. Taichi made for a rather wild bed partner, and as soon as he'd gotten Yamato's grudging permission, he had ordered a bunch of things off the internet. Toys. Clothes. Some things he didn't even want to think about. And he'd only played these games for Taichi's sake. Tonight was the first time Yamato had ever suggested a...scenario. The trouble was, he found himself looking forward to it. The very idea colored his cheeks a faint shade of pink, but at the same time, he couldn't deny a pleasant stirring in the pit of his stomach. Dear god, he had enjoyed the last session, and just the thought of this one was turning him on. What had Taichi done to him?

  The answer was the same as it had always been: Taichi was wonderful. In bed, out of bed -- he made the blond feel special. Wanted. Needed. Loved. He could make any activity a pleasure. Was it really so surprising that his kinks had a knack for rubbing off...?

  "Oh," said someone from the doorway, sounding startled. Then, a bit louder, "It's all right, they're just hugging --" a pause while the speaker observed the placement of Taichi's hands, "-- err, groping each other."

  Yamato flushed a vivid fuchsia; Taichi merely smiled. Nothing could ruin his mood right now. "Oh, shove off, Akira. We can do what we like in the privacy of our own home."

  "He remembered my name!" Akira told the rest of them, pleasantly surprised.

  "You're not in the privacy of anything." Mavi's droll voice. His sable head poked around the edge of the doorframe, and he smirked.

  "We would be if you lot went away," Yamato replied crisply, having come back to himself.

  "Oh, subtle!" the drummer exclaimed with pretended injury. "Why, Yamato, I'm hurt; really I am. How can you say such a thing?!"

  "It's mostly a matter of moving his lips and tongue, although you're right; the human body is a constant marvel." Sekyou's eyes glittered in warning. "Why are you so put out? Go ahead, ask if you can threesome now. You'll never have a better opportunity."

  "WHAT?!"

  Suddenly, Yamato found himself weighing Taichi down to prevent him from throttling one -- and possibly all -- of the members in his band.

  "I don't know, Sekyou," Mavi remarked dryly, watching this with interest. "The boyfriend doesn't seem too thrilled."

  "That's putting it lightly," Yamato muttered, secretly disappointed. Not that he wanted to sleep with Mavi, but a
m�nage � trois sounded like fun. He blinked, retraced the thought, and only just prevented himself from cursing out loud. At this rate, I won't be able to call Taichi a pervert without feeling hypocritical.

  The blond mulled all of this over for a while, vaguely aware of people moving around him, and blushing progressively darker shades of red. Eventually, he came to the unhappy conclusion that he would have to rein himself in a little before turning back and realizing he was all alone in the kitchen. From the hallway came the sounds of a very irate band being shoved out the door. Yamato smiled...slowly.

TRANSLATIONS


shonen knife: A real Japanese band. Famous for having rather...unique music. I've listened to it myself, and don't mind the style, though. Title, by the way, means "kill the boys"...but let's ignore the potentially homicidal overtones, shall we?


tekamaki : A kind of sushi made with tuna fish.

To be continued...
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Exposure