Universe: Jet Set Radio Future
Characters/Pairings: Corn, Beat (take it how you please)
Warning(s): Swearing
A/N: So, my first dabble into fanfiction. How interesting. Rated M for swearing.
Disclaimer: Not mine

It's been a long fucking day.

Corn skates lazily into the Garage, back from an all night scouting mission in 99th Street. He didn't find any potential new rudies or run into any rival gangs, but there's always places to tag and people to scare.

Now though, he wants nothing more than to rest on his throne; the ragged old couch he dragged in and restored when the GG's were founded. As he tiredly grinds up the rail, the sight before him makes him want to rip his hair out.

There's Beat. In his throne. Sleeping.

Corn is usually a calm person. Anyone who knows him can testify to that. He doesn't get angry on most occasions and he is the best leader of the GG's because he can keep his head when things get messy with rivals. But he could never stand Beat. The little punk ass that waltzed right in and acts like he owns the place.

It drives Corn mad.

He realizes it's because Beat doesn't respect him and he also realizes it's most likely a lot of jealousy on his part; no one else seems to mid Beat's near take over. He figures if Beat does eventually manage to usurp him he'll just leave, start another gang and return the favor tenfold.

He's done it once, he can do it again.

But seeing Beat in his couch like he belongs there still makes his blood boil and it's this uncharacteristic rage that leads him to skate over and promptly step on the boy.

"Ow, fuck!"

Corn stands, watching happily as Beat rolls off the couch and writhes on the floor in pain. He maneuvers around him and sits on his throne, cushions sinking beneath him. Letting out a contented sigh, he assumes his most kingly pose and looks down on Beat with distaste.

"This is my fucking couch."

Beat looks up, pain visible through his goggles, "Shit, you didn't have to fucking step on me."

"Shouldn't have been on my couch then. Next time you get tired punk, go sleep on Gum's. She'll be glad to see you."

Beat stands carefully, rubbing at his chest, "Like I'd sleep on that whore's couch."

"It's the only thing you'll be sleeping on if you don't want the damn cement."

"Damn, what crawled up your ass and died?"

Corn glares at Beat, "You're an asshole. "

Beat looks confused for a moment, before shrugging it off and grinning, "Aren't you even going to ask me why I was on your couch?"

Scoffing, Corn starts undoing his skates, kicking them off and laying down on the couch, "Not interested."

"Interesting stuff man."

Corn pulls his cap over his eyes, "Get the fuck out."

He hears skating and for a brief moment thinks Beat actually listened to him. A quick peek from under his cap proves him wrong; Beat's taken to skating around the couch in an awkward circle.

"So I was over in that damn sewage facility. Met one of the Poison Jam bastards."

Corn grunts, "Fuck, you better not have done anything to screw up our treaty with them. Piss them off and Cube'll eat you alive."

"I didn't do anything. But damn, man. How the hell can you stand them?"

Corn nearly laughs, "Years of practice, asshole. If you're in charge, you gotta be able to communicate with words or your fucking skates. No exceptions."

The skating stops and Beat says nothing for a long while. Corn looks at him from under his cap again to see if he was still there. Beat is, sitting on the armrest by his feet and staring out thoughtfully. Corn looks at him for a while before speaking.

"You thinking of challenging me for power?"

"I was."

Corn stiffens, instantly wishing his skates were on. If Beat tries to pull something now there's no way he can defend himself.

"But I changed my mind."

Still keeping a wary eye on Beat, Corn edges away from him, "Why?"

Beat shrugs, "I can't run things the way you do. I have a hard enough time dealing with my own issues. Dealing with everybody else's issues, rival gangs and new rudies? Fuck, I can't handle that."

Corn says nothing, but lets the tension drain from his shoulders. Beat isn't going to be a threat.

"Besides, I know if I ever did manage to take the GG's, you'd leave and start a new crew. Half the people here would already follow you to hell and back. They've got no loyalty to me. And you'd all come back and kick my ass from here to Rokkaku."

Corn smiles, lifting his cap, "That's right, asshole." He sits up, jamming his feet into his skates and standing. He stretches briefly before turning to Beat.

"You wanna go kick that new team's ass? I hear they're trying to paint up Shibuya."

Beat laughs, "Let's go eat some noobs."

It isn't until they're racing down Dogenzaka Hill that Corn did decide to ask, "Oi, why were you on my couch?"

Beat smiles, "I like you a lot more than Gum."