Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ Absolutions ❯ Shut Up TK! ( Chapter 2 )

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Absolutions

Shut up, TK!

"The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. "

- Oscar Wilde (1854-1900)

Daisuke groaned, rolling over to look at his digital alarm. How did it get to be so late? He distinctly recalled setting the alarm to go off at 9:00 the night before. Or maybe that was two nights ago. Come to think of it, he was not entirely sure of most of his memories from last night. Oh well, it was nearly noon already. There was little point of his dragging himself out of bed to go to class, especially when he felt so sick.

Still squinting his in a hopeless attempt to block out as much morning sunshine as possible, Daisuke noticed that his normally far from immaculate bed was, at this time, much, much worse than normal. It was covered in some sort of fluffy, and apparently very itchy white stuff. He pulled back his covers slowly, being careful not to disturb his haphazard equilibrium. Staring back at him from just beside his pillow was the severed head of some poor child's stuffed horse. Daisuke quickly averted his eyes from the horse's dull button ones. Sitting up slowly, he took the time to brush a few of the larger chunks of stuffing from his sheets before grabbing the horse by the mane and stumbling into the main room.

"Takeru," he began slowly, tossing what was left of the stuffed animal next to the blonde on the couch, "How many times do I have to tell you? Miyako is not allowed in my room when I'm sleeping." He was surprised to hear Takeru's voice come from the kitchen down the hall.

"Sorry. She said it was important. At least I made her promise not to suffocate you before I let her in." Daisuke took a few more steps forward, squinting at the figure on the couch.

"Hello, Yamato," he said a moment later.

"Good morning, sunshine. You don't look so well."

"I don't feel very well, either. I hate you."

"Come on," Yamato smiled, taking his arm gently as he led Daisuke into the kitchen. "You are probably just dehydrated."

"Among other things," Takeru chirped as Daisuke sat down and lay his head on the table.

"Shut up TK." Now it had been close to three years since Daisuke had used Takeru's childhood nickname with any regularity. These days it was generally reserved for moments when he was more aggravated than normal with his cheery roommate. Unfortunately, Takeru could not think of a single instance in his life when he had been genuinely afraid of Daisuke and so the usage of the clipped name had little effect.

"Guess what Dai," Takeru continued undaunted, "Yamato's a free man! You're cleared to move in."

"Shut up TK," Daisuke grumbled yet again, standing up and moving towards the cabinets in the barest attempt to hide his blush. It's not that he had been keeping his little crush on Yamato secret, he just wasn't shouting it from the rooftops, especially with Yamato standing just a few feet away. After digging fruitlessly for a minute or so he turned to Takeru.

"Where's the Tylenol?"

"We're out. But there's some aspirin above the sink."

Daisuke shot Takeru a truly dirty look, "You know I can't stand aspirin. Why didn't you just tell me we were out? I could have picked some up." Yamato's soft snort from the table drew his attention away from strangling his friend.

"If I didn't know better I would swear you two were married," he smiled, "Come here Daisuke, I've got something that will work."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Takeru mocked, "You know Dai, Yamato's going to be crashing on our couch for the next few days. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you took this as a chance to, ahh, jump his bones." Daisuke closed his eyes for a second, shaking his head from side to side in a gesture of utter confusion and wonder at Takeru's audacious words. Why? Why are you doing this to me?

"Let me handle this one, okay?" Yamato cut Daisuke off before he could reply, then turning to his brother he drew slowly, "Takeru? Shut up." Takeru hmmed for a second, considering his options. Yamato's threat--er--request generally carried more weight. He decided to drop the conversation, for the time being anyway.

"Here," Yamato continued, pulling a bottle out of a nearby duffel bag and dumping a pill on to Daisuke's upturned palm.

"What is it?" he asked, all to well aware of how familiar the words sounded. Yamato must have recognized them as well because he smiled again.

"Aleve. It won't hurt you. I promise," Yamato's smile widened at Daisuke's disbelieving huff. "All you need is one. All day strong, all day long," he quoted.

Daisuke gave him a strange look before going over to the sink to run a glass of water and swallow the pill.

"What?" Yamato asked innocently, "What? I just watch a lot of TV, that's all."

"More reason for you to go out with Daisuke--OW!!" Takeru cried as Yamato's hand connected with the backside of his head, or perhaps it was the other way around. Either way, he was now rubbing the sore spot gently. He should have heeded that warning.

"So tell me," Daisuke asked Yamato, flinching at Takeru's loud cry but still thoroughly amused by seeing him so abused. He accepted a second glass of water that Yamato was offering with a small smile, "I know you had more to drink than I did last night. How is it that you're standing there perfectly all right while I'm about to die?"

"Practice. And you are not about to die. It's called a hang-over and it, too, will pass. Drink." Daisuke rolled his eyes at the cliché remark, obediently taking a sip of liquid before turning his attentions back to the still smarting Takeru.

"Did Ken call?"

"Yeah. When I said you were still sleeping he gave you a two hour reprieve." At Daisuke's confused look, Takeru clarified, "He says look at your arm." Daisuke pulled up one of his pajama top's sleeves, (Daisuke was willing to bet even money on Ken having put him to bed the night before,) forcing the smeared symbols to form some semblance of meaning.

"It says I promised to go shopping with him. February 13th. At 11 am," Daisuke could not help but smile a bit at the note, so typically Ken, scrawled across his skin. On a hunch, he pulled up the other sleeve, shaking his head when he saw what Ken had written.

"Look at left arm," he announced for his friends who were both watching expectantly. Daisuke glanced up at the clock above the sink. If Ken was really going to be here at 1:00, and knowing his friend, he most definitely would be, Daisuke knew he had better get a move on. Everyone believed Ken to be an absolute sweetheart, but he had proven himself pitiless when it came to Daisuke time and time again. No amount of groaning or moaning was going to get him out of this little chore. Actually, Daisuke noted, he was already starting to feel a little better. Very little, mind you. But any improvement was welcome. He emptied his second glass of water just as Yamato set down a third with a small smile. That boy had a thing with liquid refreshment.

"I'm going to get a shower," Daisuke announced, making no move to take the proffered glass as he stood from the table, "If Ken comes early, just tell him I'll be out soon, okay?"

"Sure," Takeru agreed.

"And put your dirty bowl in the sink," Daisuke grumbled over his shoulder, shuffling out of the room.

+++++++++++

Daisuke was a little surprised that Ken had not arrived by the time he had showered and gotten dressed. After all, it was nearing 12:57. Could this mean Ken was actually going to be on time, rather than early? Wonder of wonders. The first thing Daisuke noticed when he walked into the kitchen was that Takeru and Yamato had relocated elsewhere. The second was Takeru's cereal bowl, still sitting on the far end of the table.

"TAKERU!" Daisuke hollered, ignoring his headache that had yet to completely dissolve. Takeru came skidding into the kitchen a second later.

"What? What is it? I'm trying to get Yamato settled."

"Dirty dishes are rinsed and placed in the sink. Or in extreme instances, washed, dried and put away. Why is that so difficult to learn?"

"Why bother when I know that I'll always have you to pick up after me?" Takeru smirked. Daisuke rubbed his temples a little to relieve the throbbing.

"So, seriously," Takeru continued, reluctantly plucking his bowl from the table before setting it in the sink sans rinsing, "Are you at least going to try for Yamato?"

"It's not like he's some carnival prize. And I would really appreciate it if you didn't say anything else around him."

"Why not? He's completely oblivious. Yamato never thinks anyone likes him."

"Takeru…" Daisuke's voice had taken on a distinctly warning tone.

"Fine. I won't say anything else about you liking him," Takeru promised before mumbling under his breath, "Not today, anyway."

"Thank you," Daisuke breathed, apparently missing Takeru's last statement. He glanced up at the clock. Ken was now a full three minutes late. Daisuke hoped something had not come up.

Just outside the kitchen's door, Yamato frowned. That was not what he was expecting to hear when he had gone to make sure Daisuke did not kill his little brother. He was tempted to just walk in and demand some sort of an explanation, but felt as if he owed Daisuke at least some forewarning. Back-tracking a few quiet steps down the hall, he announced his entrance loud and clear.

"Hey," he called, bringing up something he had been wondering about since he had arrived on their doorstep earlier that morning, "Don't you guys have classes?" They still stood just as they had the few seconds before, but where as Takeru was grinning at his brother, Daisuke now seemed all too interested in the table's wood grain.

"It's Friday. I get out at 10:00 on Fridays," Takeru explained.

"Well I start at 10. Oops," Daisuke shrugged, smiling a little for what had to be the first time that morning, "At least I went Monday and Wednesday."

"Daisuke, really." Now it was Takeru's turn to scold, "For what you have to pay to go to school, you should really put out more effort. It's only your future after all."

"Ignore him," Yamato interjected, nodding his head in his brother's direction, "Takeru has always been a nerd."

"Well, we can't all be rock stars," Takeru answered back good-naturedly, then seeming to focus more closely on Yamato, "What's the matter?" Daisuke, too, turned to scrutinize him.

"I quit the band," he answered reluctantly a moment later, quickly cutting Takeru off as he opened his mouth to reply with an upheld hand, "No. I don't want to talk about it." Takeru's mouth shut with a clash of teeth and the room descended into an uneasy silence. Takeru obviously wanted to ask more, but did not dare. Not for the time being, anyway. Daisuke also wanted to ask, but if it wasn't Takeru's place, then it certainly wasn't his. Thankfully, there came a series of sharp knocks on the apartment door after only a few more long seconds.

"That would be Ken," Daisuke mumbled, leaving to go let him inside. Yamato's mouth twitched in what might have been a partial smile, seemingly happy for the change in focus.

"1:07. I was beginning to worry," Daisuke commented, walking back into the kitchen to gather the keys that hung by the doorframe. Ken glanced up at Daisuke's kitchen clock a second before glancing back down to his wristwatch.

"Your clock is nine minutes fast," Ken assured him, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," Daisuke made a mental note to turn the clock back, "I guess that one must not have gotten set right after Miyako," the way Daisuke emphasized the word made it seem as if Ken were to blame for what ever was following, "set all my clocks forward two hours." Ken's eyebrows rose ever so slightly.

"When was this?"

"About a week ago. She thought it was real funny that I showed up for work two hours early," Daisuke complained. Ken bit his lip to keep a laugh from escaping. Takeru was not quite so polite, sniggering from where he stood leaning against the counter.

"It was funny," he assured Ken, ignoring the dirty look Daisuke shot. Somehow Ken managed to talk Daisuke out of the apartment and into his waiting car before anything else could happen.

"I expected you to be a little worse off this morning," Ken said as soon as they were buckled in and on their way.

"Yamato gave me something," Daisuke shrugged, then noticing Ken's smirk, "Don't. I've already gotten plenty of that from Takeru. You didn't have to work today?" he quickly changed the subject.

"Eh. I called in sick," came the very surprising answer. Daisuke laid an inquisitive hand against Ken's forehead.

"Did I just hear you right? Did a bosses-dream-Ichijouji-Ken lie to get out of going to work?" Ken brushed Daisuke's hand away with a warning growl, his eyes never once leaving the road.

"Hey, hey," Daisuke soothed, "No need to get touchy. It's just not like you. So what's so important that it's worth you blowing off work?"

"We are going to the mall."

"The Mall?" Daisuke's hand found its way back to Ken's head again, "Now I know something is up!"

+++++++++++

Ken had long ago expressed an intense dislike for crowed places, something Tokyo had in abundance, which made his wanting to go to a major mall, on a Friday, over the lunch break seem that much more peculiar. It could only mean that he looking for one thing--anonymity. Which, in turn, could only mean one thing.

Daisuke's worst suspicions were confirmed a couple of seconds later when they stepped up in front of the Victoria's Secret shop.

"So. This is what you made me promise to do last night, when I was drunk." Daisuke knew Ken well enough to know that he would take full advantage of just such a situation and Daisuke was not above laying on the guilt. Such things could be very, very useful later when getting something he wanted from his blue-haired friend, like lunch.

Ken did not bother to answer the implied accusation, saying instead, "Get something that Miyako will like." After a second's more hesitation he decided to tack on, "But make sure it's tasteful."

"Gee, care to make it anymore difficult?" Daisuke groused.

"I'll be waiting right out side," Ken promised, completely unflustered by Daisuke's tone.

"Yeah. Thanks," Daisuke gave him a disgruntled look, "I swear. You're a grown man. You're getting married! Don't you think it's about time you got over this fear of women's underwear?"

"It's not like that. It's…" Ken trailed off for a moment, obviously looking for a way to explain his hesitance. "I'll be waiting here," he concluded eventually, "Or maybe just down there," he said motioning towards a hot tub display a little way down the hall.

"Fine," Daisuke mumbled, "Just stay on this end of the mall this time, alright? I don't want to spend the rest of the afternoon searching for you." He sighed again as Ken nodded his agreement, before steeling himself to the one thing that scared him more than anything else in the entire world--buying Miyako lingerie. He turned to walk into the store, only stopping at the last minute to call back to Ken.

"Any color preferences?" Ken shook his head no, doing his best to avoid the strange stares from the various other shoppers. Daisuke suppressed a chuckle. Served him right.

+++++++++++

When Daisuke finally managed to catch back up with Ken he was a good 300 feet past the hot tub display and moving steadily further under the pretense of window-shopping.

"It's done. I've got it," Daisuke informed him, holding the distinctive bag before Ken like it contained some sort of precious contraband. Ken quickly unzipped the black briefcase he always carried, motioning for Daisuke to drop the tissue paper wrapped package inside before he hurried over to the nearest trash can to dump the original sack.

"Wait," Daisuke called him back at the last second, taking the bag away and folding it so he could tuck it under his arm, "I'll take it. Takeru collects them."

"Takeru collects bags from women's lingerie stores?" Ken asked, only some-what disbelieving.

"Not just Victoria's Secret, he collects all bags. You should see it. He has boxes of them in his room."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Daisuke shrugged, "I never actually asked."

Daisuke shrugged again at the strange look Ken gave him, "Hey, we all have our thing."

"I don't have a thing," Ken seemed more than a little offended by Daisuke's insinuation. Not that Daisuke was bothered.

"Evil dictator who tried to take over a world thing, not withstanding."

"That was not a thing. That was a phase," Ken hastened to assure him. Daisuke just rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. Semantics."

+++++++++++

By the time he got home, Takeru and Yamato had finished whatever settling they had been doing before and were now engrossed in some inane television comedy. Daisuke was quick to join them, but not before showing Takeru his new present.

"I brought you a bag."

"Oh, hey cool!" Takeru snatched it away, unfolding it and beginning to smooth the creases before taking it back to his bedroom.

"You wouldn't happen to know why he collects those things, would you? Just out of curiosity," Daisuke asked Yamato as they both watched Takeru leave. Yamato smiled a bit.

"No, not really. But it's better than when he was a kid."

"Eh?"

"It used to be empty shampoo bottles." Daisuke laughed as an image of a young Takeru, hoarding his mother's shampoo bottles in some dark corner of his closet or better yet--the bottom drawer of his dresser, began to dance in his mind's eye.

"What's so funny?" Takeru asked, joining them again a second later. Daisuke just motioned vaguely at the television, ignoring the sly look Yamato gave him.

"So will you two be okay alone tonight? No wild parties?" Takeru continued after a moment more. He still wasn't sure what had cracked Daisuke up, but then, he wasn't so sure he wanted to know.

"We'll be fine, Takeru," he brother reassured him.

"Alone?" Daisuke asked at the exact same time, drawing a couple humored stares. Daisuke's scowl assured Takeru that he had not meant that the way it sounded. Still it was all Takeru could do to choke back a laugh.

"I meant, are you going somewhere?" Daisuke clarified a second later, steadfastly refusing to drop either stare, hoping against hope that he might save just a single shred of his dignity.

"Hikari and I decided to celebrate Valentine's Day a little early," Takeru explained, still smiling way too much for such a mundane conversation.

"That's nice," Daisuke responded pleasantly, "Yes. I'm sure we'll be fine. Will you be staying for dinner or are you taking Hikari out?" he asked, standing as made to step towards the kitchen.

"Umm, no. We're going out for dinner." Daisuke nodded to signify that he had heard but did not pause in his movement towards the kitchen. He stopped only after he was safely inside, sliding the door shut and groaning as he heard Takeru's short laugh finally break through.

+++++++++++

It was more than half and our before anyone dared to venture into Daisuke's little safe haven. In the meantime he had managed to mop, scrub out the sink and start a dinner, and he still wasn't feeling much better.

"Umm, Takeru's leaving now. Do you want any help?" Yamato asked tentatively, sliding the door only half open as he slipped inside.

"No, no, I think I have pretty much got it under control," answered Daisuke, who despite everything still couldn't help the slightly self-depreciating smile that crept on to his face. He looked up a second later, surprised when he heard Yamato laugh.

"You have to admit that was pretty funny," Yamato chuckled. Daisuke just continued to study him until he finally cracked.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I was just trying to remember if I had ever heard you laugh before."

Yamato cocked an eyebrow at Daisuke's little admission, something, Daisuke noticed, that he was able to do much, much better than his brother.

"So you really do like me?" Yamato finally worked up the courage to ask a second later, not missing the way Daisuke instantly went from stirring to whipping his sauce.

"Yes," Daisuke ground out eventually, "But not enough to keep me from killing Takeru." Yamato grinned, reaching over to stop Daisuke's breakneck mixing before he could completely ruin all his hard work.

"Don't. Takeru didn't say anything. Well, nothing else anyway. I overheard the two of you talking earlier. It's okay. I think it's cute."

Sure, reduce it to 'cute', Daisuke sighed. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it is rude to eavesdrop?"

"I lived with my dad, remember?"

Daisuke just rolled his eyes, starting to slowly swirl his sauce again. "So, since Taichi's not really around anymore…" he began cautiously, building up his courage as best he could before continuing any further. Unfortunately, Yamato had already guessed his line of thought.

"That's sweet and all Daisuke, but…you're not really my type." Yamato padded his words with a gentle rub to Daisuke's head.

"Your type?"

"Yeah. I prefer a guy with a bit more hair," Yamato joked, giving Daisuke's head a more forceful fluffing this time.

"You know, Yamato," Daisuke asked, knocking the invading hand away, "I'm beginning to think you have a hair fetish or something."

"Or something," Yamato concurred with a knowing smile. He stood, watching Daisuke continue to stir for quite some time. He could swear he almost saw the other boy relaxing.

"Finish that sauce, would you?" Daisuke asked eventually, setting his chopsticks to the side before moving to the oven. Yamato smiled, picking up the chopsticks and holding them over the pot.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?"

Daisuke rolled his eyes, carefully removing a baking sheet from said oven and poking at its contents. "Just shut up and stir before that scalds." Yamato couldn't help smirking a bit at Daisuke's tone.

"So…" he questioned as he obediently started to slowly blend the simmering sauce, "You don't mind my crashing here, do you? I know Takeru can be real bad about just deciding things on his own." Daisuke just shrugged.

"I really don't mind. In fact, I kind of like the way you keep Takeru in line," he finished with a smile, "After all, how many people can say they've lived with a rock star?"

"Ex-rock star," Yamato corrected.

"Fine. Ex. How many people can say that they've lived with an ex-rock star," Daisuke acquiesced, sliding the tray back into the oven before reaching over to up the temperature a couple of notches. "So, why did you…"

"I said I didn't want to talk about it." Yamato reached over to turn the stove back down. "Don't do that. It'll burn." Daisuke frowned.

"I think I know how to cook in my own kitchen," he mumbled turning the stove up again with a pointed look in Yamato's direction.

"It can't be so terrible," Daisuke began after another moment, "Did you have a fight with the band?"

"No. The guys were cool about it. Well, maybe more than a little disappointed, but still pretty cool. I think they're auditioning for a new singer."

"Nice to know you can be so easily replaced," Daisuke joked.

"I didn't say they had found anyone," Yamato grinned back. "But I think they will. They're a really good band. They won't quit just because I got bored."

"Bored?"

"I thought we weren't talking about this," Yamato ground out.

"That was before you started talking."

"Well, I'm stopping now."

Daisuke mumbled something under his breath, then, with a couple of sniffs, quickly flipped off the oven and jerked out the only some-what scorched salmon patties. Yamato looked them without commenting.

"They taste better this way," Daisuke insisted. Yamato still refrained from comment, but Daisuke could see the responses running through his mind. He really hoped he could continue to restrain himself.

Finally, Daisuke looked back down on the patties with a sigh. "Yeah, okay. I shouldn't have turned it up," he conceded.

"Well I wasn't going to say anything…" Yamato's face broke out of the temporary funk that had settled on it a moment before as he graced Daisuke with a brilliant smile.

"Thanks," Daisuke grumbled back. It's not like he wasn't a good cook. Someone was distracting him.

"Why don't you serve up the food and I'll get us some drinks," Yamato suggested with an evil grin.

"I don't think so. Why don't you just sit down?" Daisuke quickly flipped the patties onto a nearby plate before hurrying to remove a pair of cups from the far cabinet. He set both the plate and the cups on the table a second later, already making a second loop to grab the salad from the fridge as well as more plates and utensils. Yamato, meanwhile, calmly settled into the closest chair, his grin never faltering.

"Please tell me you don't give Takeru this kind of service. Hikari's going to kill you," he joked. Daisuke just shrugged.

"Your brother's useless. If I didn't feed him, he would starve. I'm sure Hikari appreciates that aspect of our little arrangement."

"True. True. So, tell me why you're free to cook me dinner. I can think of plenty of guys that would love to catch someone as cute as you." Yamato took a bite of food before tacking on, "And who cooks okay."

"Okay?" Daisuke asked, pretending to be shocked at what was at best a mediocre complement.

"Oh alright, very well," Yamato admitted, "Why no boyfriend?"

Daisuke shrugged, "I guess between work and school I just haven't found the time."

"Nobody has the time today," Yamato shook his head, "What's your real reason?"

Daisuke did not respond to the question, instead asking, "What happened between you and Taichi." Yamato seemed a little taken aback by the sudden change in conversation.

"That is definitely none of your business."

"You're the one who brought up boyfriends," Daisuke explained, all too innocently, "I thought perhaps you wanted to talk about it."

"Well I don't," Yamato insisted, then contradicting himself a second later, "Taichi and I are complicated."

"How so?" Daisuke asked gently when Yamato failed to continue after a moment, not wanting to startle the blonde back into silence.

"Sometimes I think we're perfect for each other, and then sometimes I'm not so sure. I mean, we were--are--best friends, maybe even closer, and when it came out that we both, well, swung that way, it just seemed to make sense. To be perfectly honest, there's never been much more to it than that. Of course, I was convinced I was absolutely in love with him for the longest."

They sat in silence for a long while, giving each other a chance to absorb that long and very unexpected spill.

"You don't love Taichi, now?" Daisuke asked, breaking that silence several minutes later.

"No. I'll always love Taichi. I just don't know if it's the kind of love that works well in relationships," Yamato admitted softly. Daisuke suddenly realized that neither of them had taken a bite since he first brought up the subject. Somehow he did not see the atmosphere getting any lighter with out some sort of alternative stimulation.

"I'm tired of being cooped up in this kitchen. You want to go eat in front of the television?" Daisuke asked, already picking up his plate and glass and shooting a very significant look at the now morose Yamato. Yamato smiled, glad for the distraction Daisuke was offering.

"Okay. But I get to choose what we watch 'cause I'm the guest!"

"No. It's my house, my choice."

"I'll tell Takeru you were rude to me," Yamato threatened.

"Fine," Daisuke rolled his eyes, sliding the kitchen door open with his hip before motioning Yamato through, "your choice. But only because your brother scares me. And, nothing sappy. I want at least one car crash or major explosion, got that?"

"Yeah, yeah. Manly man," Yamato mocked. He let out a disbelieving snort, when flipping on the set, his ears were immediately assaulted by the theme music to Robin Hood: Men in Tights:

"We're men, MANLY men, we're men in tights. Yeah!

We roam around the forest looking for fights.

"And that would be irony…" Yamato mumbled, sitting down on the couch and patting the cushion next to him. Daisuke still seemed a little dumbfounded by the coincidence, moving to take his seat more slowly.

"That's. Just. Freaky."

"Do you want me to find something else?" Yamato asked, though he had no intention of doing any such thing. He rather enjoyed this movie.

"No, no this is fine." Daisuke took his seat a second later, pulling his plate over to his lap, "That was weird though."

+++++++++++

Daisuke woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly well rested considering the fact that he had slept in his clothes. At least the person who had put him to bed had taken the time to brush away the stuffing Miyako's gift had left the day before. If he was not careful, being unable to make it to bed without assistance would become a habit.

"Daisuke!" Takeru's shrill call was all it took to knock Daisuke out of whatever thoughts of sleep he still had. He stumbled over to the door and swung it open before calling back.

"What is it?"

"Do you have to work this morning?" Takeru's screams seemed to be coming from the laundry room at the end of the hall.

"Yeah. What time is it?"

"It's almost 8:00."

Just then Daisuke caught a glimpse of a very disgruntled Yamato slowly sitting up from the couch. "Can't you two talk in the same room?" He grumbled, trying in vain to smooth down his hair.

"Thanks!" Daisuke called back down the hall to Takeru before turning back to Yamato. "Good morning, sunshine. You don't look so good," he joked. Yamato didn't think that was quite as funny as Daisuke, and Daisuke was bright enough to disappear back into his room before Yamato could reply. By they time he came out dressed for work nearly 15 minutes later, Yamato, himself, had disappeared.

"What time do you get off today?" Takeru asked, following Daisuke to the kitchen.

"Umm, 2:00. But I probably won't make it home until 3:00."

"Going somewhere afterwards?"

"No, but we'll be really busy, seeing as how it's valentine's and all. Why?" Daisuke asked.

"I just wanted you to take Yamato out."

"Takeru…"

"No, no, no," Takeuru hastened to assure him, "It's just that I don't think it's a good idea for him to just be sitting around tonight, you know, wallowing. That's not to say coming home to find the two of you snuggled up on the couch wasn't cute."

"Hikari's coming over?" Daisuke asked, not bothering to dignify that last statement with a response.

"Yes."

"Figures. Where's Yamato?"

"In the shower."

"And that explains why you're willing to bring this up now," Daisuke groused, "I've got to go to work." He grabbed his keys and a cereal bar before hurrying towards the front door.

"If it makes you feel better, I'd be glad not to have you here wallowing either," Takeru called after him.

"It doesn't!"

+++++++++++

Daisuke opened the apartment door, checking his watch at the same time. 2:45. He was doing well. The restaurant had not been nearly as busy as he had expected. No doubt business was going to pick up later tonight.

"Honey, I'm home," he sing-songed out into the hallway.

"Sweetheart!" Takeru chimed leaning out the living room door long enough to blow Daisuke a kiss. Yamato sat on the couch, shaking his head in an odd sort of bewilderment.

"You two are weird."

"Thanks," Takeru told his brother, then turning to Daisuke, "Can you come in here for a second. I want to talk to both of you." Daisuke just sighed, feeling for all the world like a kid being called to the carpet.

"Sit," Takeru intoned, pushing Daisuke down on the couch beside Yamato.

"Now," he began, "My heart goes out to you two dateless souls on this Valentine's Day, but the fact remains that I have a date and she's going to be here in a little more than four hours."

"I thought you went out last night," Yamato interjected.

"We did. And tonight we're staying in. And you are not."

"You are actually kicking me out of my own apartment?" Daisuke asked, disbelieving.

"Hey, if he's kicking out his homeless brother, I don't see what's so surprising about you getting the boot," Yamato shrugged.

"I pay rent."

"That's a good point," Yamato agreed, then turning to Takeru as he hooked a thumb at Daisuke, "He pays rent."

"Which is why I got the two of you tickets to the university's production of La bohème. Consider it a form of restitution. Now, the actual opera starts at 7:30 but you can go in at 7:00 and listen to the director explain some of the basic ideas behind and the history of the show. I've signed you up for that as well. Which means you need to be out of this apartment by 6:30 so you can get there by 6:45.

"So you're not only making us go to the opera, you're making us go to a class about it first? What did we do to you?" Daisuke pleaded.

"You always yell at me about my cereal bowl," Takeru explained, pointing at Daisuke and then, rounding on his brother, "And I won't even mention who told mom I painted the cat."

"That old thing again? Haven't I been punished enough?" Yamato mumbled.

"And even though this is a school production, you both need to dress nice. That means use an iron, Daisuke," Takeru continued, completely ignoring his brother.

"Oh!" Takeru finally exploded when they both continued to sulk, "Would you two stop whining? Do you know how many couples would love to get these tickets? I'll have you know I had to pull some major strings!"

"I am not dating Daisuke." Yamato finally broke their terse silence. Takeru just rolled his eyes.

"I never said you were," he replied patiently.

"You just said we were a couple," Yamato argued back.

"As in a couple of people. You are a human Yamato."

"Fine. But we are in no way a couple, couple."

"Gee, this conversation is doing wonders for my self esteem," Daisuke cut in sarcastically.

"Sorry, Daisuke," Yamato apologized, "It's just that Takeru gets these little ideas and it's best to nip them in the bud before they have a chance to mutate into something horrible and indestructible." Takeru rolled his eyes again, shooting his brother a truly dirty look.

"Well, if we're all done insulting each other, here are your tickets," he shoved the two blue tickets under their noses.

"We never said we were going anywhere," Yamato insisted.

"Look," Takeru seemed to be coming to the end of his rope, "Either go to the opera or sit outside in the cold. I don't care. But you are not staying here. You will leave by 6:30 and you will not be back until 11:00. Have. I. Made. Myself. Clear?"

"Fine. We're going," Daisuke conceded for the both of them, then shooting Yamato a look out of the corners of his eyes, "I guess this means we are going out tonight."

"Yes."

"And it is in no way a date, nor are we, in any shape or form, a couple."

"That's right."

"Tell me why we just agreed to this?"

"Because my brother's a selfish bastard?"

"That explains why we're doing it, but not why we agreed."

Yamato considered the statement for a moment before shaking his head. "Daisuke, that doesn't make any sense."

"I know that. But frankly, I'd rather not admit I let Takeru talk me into anything."

"Ditto, my friend, Ditto," Yamato sighed, a second before they both started laughing.

"That's it! They've gone off the deep end!" Takeru exclaimed to an apparently invisible companion, only increasing the boys' laughter. "I give up. I'm the only normal one here," he walked out of the room, shaking his head sadly.

+++++++++++

Daisuke peaked in and out of each tiny room in the apartment, looking for Takeru, finally catching up with him in the kitchen.

"Does this match?" Daisuke asked, holding out his tie.

"Hmm, wh--oh yeah, that looks nice Daisuke," Takeru answered back, obviously distracted by the refrigerator.

"Do you want me to whip something up for you two before we leave?" Daisuke offered, taking pity on his friend.

"I can just see it now," Yamato teased, joining them in the kitchen and holding up his own tie for Takeru's approval, "Oh, Hikari, I love you. And to show you how much, just look at this wonderful dinner Daisuke made us."

"I really don't understand what you see in him," Takeru informed a bewildered Daisuke.

"I really don't know why I'm the one getting picked on," Daisuke admitted.

"It's not my fault I can't cook," Takeru explained, giving Daisuke a comforting pat on the back, "I've asked Daisuke to teach me, but he refuses. He won't even let me do the grocery shopping."

"It would be impossible to teach someone who thinks spray cheese is food to cook. And, the one time I let you grocery shop all we got were frozen pizzas and a bag of apples. And," Daisuke turned his attention to Yamato, "I'm pretty sure that was just so he could toss the bag on the table and ask, 'How do you like them apples?'"

"It's from a movie."

"We know that, Takeru."

"My apples were good!" Takeru insisted.

Daisuke just shook his head. "They were mealy."

" I am not that useless in a kitchen. I'll have you know I got along just fine before you got here."

"Microwaving instant ramen does not constitute cooking, Takeru," Yamato answered, giving his brother's head an affectionate rub, "I think I'm going to have to agree with Daisuke on this one." The phone chose that particular moment to ring. Both Takeru and Daisuke jumped for it at the same time, but Takeru got there first.

"Okasaki pencil factory. Get to the point."

"That's not funny," Daisuke grumbled under his breath. Yamato gave him a sympathetic smile.

"Well I don't think he wants to talk to you," Takeru's rather short reply instantly drew Yamato's attention back to the phone conversation and left no doubt in anyone's mind as to whom was calling. He motioned for Takeru to hand him the phone. Takeru shook his head no, turning his back on his brother in the process and apparently all too interested in what ever it was Taichi was saying.

Yamato, never one to blindly obey, (not his little brother, anyway), reached over and literally pried the phone out of Takeru's fingers.

"Hey Taichi. Yeah, sorry about that. You know how over protective Takeru can get," Yamato explained, shooting Takeru an ugly look in the process.

"I'm not the big jerk," Takeru mumbled, rubbing his fingers and earning himself an even uglier look.

"Mmmhmm," Yamato mumbled an agreement to what ever it was Taichi was saying on the other end every once and a while. Both Daisuke and Takeru stayed in the kitchen, shamelessly trying to follow the conversation from the snippets they could catch. "Mmmhmm. No. It wasn't stupid. It's just as much my fault. These things happen."

Takeru let out a terribly inelegant snort at that. Yamato turned to wave them out of the room just before something Taichi said brought back his full attention.

"Yeah, sure! Oh, hey, wait a second. I can't. I've already made other plans."

Daisuke held back a sigh, snapping to draw Yamato's attention before nodding towards the phone and mouthing, "Go on."

Yamato cupped a hand over the receiver so he could whisper, "Thanks, Dai," in return. Daisuke smiled at him, grabbing the arm of a still rather disgruntled Takeru and bodily dragging him from the kitchen.

+++++++++++

"So I guess this means you do have a valentine's date," Daisuke smiled when Yamato exited the kitchen some time later.

"Yeah, I guess so," Yamato replied softly, "Well, I'd better finish getting ready." He started down the hall towards Takeru's room where his suitcases were now spread across the floor before stopping to call back over his shoulder, "And Dai?" Daisuke looked up to show that he was listening. "Thanks. Really. You're a great friend."

Daisuke just smiled and nodded.

+++++++++++

TBC

AN: Fooled ya with the quote, didn't I? Didn't I !?! What? You skipped that part? Oh well. ^_^ Will Daisuke get another chance to (not-date) date Yamato? Perhaps next time…perhaps…