Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. I'm just doing this for fun. Yaoi. Lemon.


Friday: Tai

Face smashed into the pillows, groaning with the onset of reality, I sent a blind hand out to find my chirping phone. I groaned again when I heard the smooth but slurred voice of my roommate answering my grumbled hello.

"Taichi, come get me," Matt pled over bass so loud it vibrated my cell phone's speakers.

"Ugh," I rubbed at my eyes. I thought it was a perfect plan to move in with Matt the summer after high school. Between the soccer season and his shows we rarely even saw each other. But every time his band played in town I'd get the call after the after-party and after the after-after-party. Come get me, Taichi, he'd say, everyone here sucks. "There's no one there that could—"

"There's no one here and even if there were," Matt shouted defiantly over the music, "I want you."

I swallowed the sudden lump caught in my throat. That's not what he means. Keep it together, dude. Still, I was instantly wide-awake and plucking t-shirts off the floor with my free hand, trying to find something unwrinkled. It's not in my nature to leave Matt stranded. "Where are you?"

"Red Velvet," Matt shouted back, "Come."

"Okay, but stay there, man. Don't run off like last time," I said. But he had already hung up on me.

The club wasn't that far from our place, a short train ride, a few blocks walk. He could make it alone if he weren't so stubborn. If he didn't get off on waking me up. Not to mention he could afford a fucking cab on his rock star's salary. But this logic dissolved, as it had twenty times before, at the sight of the tall, gorgeous blond waiting outside the club, leaning against the wall with an easy air of self-importance, bathed in red neon lights.

"Let's go, you pain in the ass," I said, pushing through the drunken crowd of boys and girls and men and women preening around him, hoping he'd take notice.

Matt's eyes flashed at me but he answered in a loud stage whisper, "Oh, it's the great Yagami Taichi, the famous soccer star." This set off everyone nearby, buzzing like bees, Matt's words traveling faster through a crowd than alcohol through the bloodstream. He put his hand on my shoulder, "Come back in and be seen, soccer star."

"You smell like sake," I said, making him laugh.

"You look like you got dressed in the dark," he shot back.

"You woke me up," I said, hurt, taking his elbow and guiding him away from the club. His walk wasn't nearly as strong as his attitude. He turned to wave a middle finger at the crowd pining behind us, setting off a cheer and a barrage of camera flashes, his blond hair lighting up like a halo. He turned back to me grinning as if to say look what I can do, before immediately tripping over his own boots. I took him by the arm again, rolling my eyes.

"You're a ridiculous drunk," I said.

"Mm," he agreed, then looked at me with narrowed eyes, "So what'd you dream about, Tai?"

You. "Can't remember. I got rudely interrupted."

"Why didn't you come out tonight? We could both be this drunk," he said, demonstrating by letting go of my arm trying to walk a straight line down a crack in the sidewalk, zigzagging wildly.

"Come on, you know I don't go out before a game."

"Oh god, your game. Shit. I'm sorry," he said, quickly coming back to my side. But his earnest face curled wickedly in an instant, "Sorry, sorry," he said, smiling and trailing his fingers down my chest, "Sorry, soccer star."

"Careful," I said, referring less to this new, terrible nickname than my barely restrained impulse to push him into the nearest alley. He relented, laughing to himself. I'd never seen him so drunk before. He lagged further and further behind me until I finally draped him over my back and carried him piggyback towards the train station. For a lanky guy he was disturbingly light, heavy boots and all. His head lolled forward against mine, and I kept blowing blond hairs out of my face, but I didn't mind.

"Tai, you saved me just in time," he murmured gratefully, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, yeah," I brushed this off, "Just don't puke."

He didn't talk again until I dropped him into his train seat, sitting close beside him so he could lean against me. He came to with a laugh, holding his arm against mine, "Look," he said, head drooping forward, face hidden by a curtain of blond hair, "You're like this perfect color, this perfect, cinnamon, soccer star color, and I'm like…translucent."

"Well, that makes sense 'cause I am a perfect cinnamon soccer star," I said, but he was right. Beneath the tangle of bracelets his skin was painfully pale under the florescent lights. Of course, I thought it was like everything else about him: cool and vulnerable and rare.

He pushed his hair back from his face and met my eyes, "Tai?"

"Yeah?"

Color rose on his face. He bit his bottom lip and looked down.

God, do that again. "What?"

He looked back up at me, hesitant, "I, um…" His blue eyes drifted down to my mouth and back up again, his lips slightly parted. I realized suddenly how few inches separated our faces, and just as the space between us began to close the train shuddered to a stop and the doors chimed as they opened at our station.

"Shit," I shot up out of my seat. Matt groaned and slid further down, one hand splayed over his face. I leaned against the door while Matt groped his way out of the train, refusing to meet my eyes. I didn't know, or hadn't known, or still didn't really know that Matt felt…that Matt wanted…No. Matt stepped groggily onto the platform, stealing a glance at me as he passed. He's just wasted. The doors hissed closed as I followed him away from the train.

"Okay to walk?" I asked him.

"Actually," he said, perking up and doing a silly little dance, "I think I've got my second wind. Should we get more sake?"

I just stared at him.

"Fine," he lifted his hands in innocence, "We're as drunk as we're gonna get."

I didn't bother to argue. Our building was within sight, and I couldn't wait to get back in bed after this night. There was too much to think about. Despite his so-called second wind, he didn't object when I took his arm to get him across the last intersection as quickly as possible. But ten feet from the entrance he planted his feet, "Wait."

"What is it now?" I asked, but he was already wrapping his thin arms around my neck and pressing his lips to mine, at first lightly, but then with more pressure, his tongue finding mine.

Everything had gone still and silent and slow in my mind until he broke off to look into my eyes and asked quietly, "Tai?"

That's when I lost control. I let out a growl I'd never heard myself make before and grabbed his hand, dragging him as he tripped behind me through the lobby and into the elevator. Before the doors could even close I pressed him against the wall, biting at his neck as he squirmed. I ran my hand under the black fabric of his t-shirt, tugging it over his head and onto the ground, kissing him hungrily while he clung to me, hips pulsing against mine. The door slid open on our floor but we only made it as far as the landing before we pulled each other close again, Matt's hands working the top button of my jeans.

"Wait, my shirt!" Matt said, peeling himself away from me and running into the elevator to grab it, just as the bell rang out and the doors closed.

Fuck.

I sat down on the floor and put my head in my hands, thoughts swirling. I worried he was too drunk to find our floor again. I worried that if he was too drunk to find our floor than he was too drunk to know what he was doing. I wondered if I knew what the hell I was doing, sitting on the floor in front of an elevator, running my tongue along my bottom lip, savoring the taste of my best friend's sake-flavored kisses. Then the elevator light popped on, and I was on my feet in an instant. I heard the bells growing closer and my heart started to race. The doors opened to reveal a shirtless, drunken Matt standing casually in all his cool glory in tight jeans and big boots beside a scandalized older woman, her eyes glued to the floor, face burning.

Then I was fighting the lock of our apartment door, stabbing blindly its direction with the key in one hand while I held Matt tight against me with the other, moaning helplessly when he sucked on my tongue. Matt laughed, the door swung open miraculously, and time slowed to a crawl as he pulled me toward his bedroom. I watched my feet following each other obediently, heard my shallow, rapid breaths, thought of Matt in a green sleeveless shirt, pissing me off by day, keeping me up by night with thoughts I didn't understand, thought of Matt in his school uniform, driving me crazy with jealousy, and saw Matt in front of me, falling backwards into his bed demanding help with his boots. Well. I practically ripped the laces out. He'd draped himself around my neck while I struggled to undress him, kissing my collarbone, making it hard for me to even keep my eyes open. I pushed him back down to the bed and started tugging the skintight black jeans off his narrow hips. This was harder than the boots, because Matt's hands, rather than helping me peel the fabric back were buried in my hair, pulling me toward him. It's true I gave in and spent what could've been a lazy hour but was probably a frantic minute making him gasp as I left a row of hickies on his neck, and then I was back to business.

"Dude," I said, not sure if I was sweating or wet from his kisses, "How do you put these on?"

"It's a secret," he said, arching his hips to help me, "but it's also Vaseline."

Finally, inch by impossible inch, all of Matt was revealed. I flung the jeans to the side with a matador's flourish and drank in the sight of him stretched out before me. "Tai," he begged, voice tinged with liquor and lust, eyes heavy.

That's when I decided I couldn't go through with it. I stood there frozen, trying to burn the image of him into my mind, knowing what I had to do. "I'll be right back," I said, forcing out every word, when all I really wanted was to stay, to put one hand around that delicate neck and graze his ear with my teeth while I whispered filthy promises. Instead I took one step back, and then another, and then I turned and left him waiting. I crossed the living room, locked my bedroom door behind me, and spent the night sleepless, horny, and terrified.