Chemicals Attract

Disclaimer: I don't own a thing.

Warning(s): Fluff? Silliness? Weird characterisation? Mentions of (past and one-sided) Tatsumi/Tsuzuki. At points, this can qualify as crack.

Self-edited. One line taken from Fight Club, of all things.

Notes: Repost, I'm sorry. I was genuinely disappointed by the lack of anything for this fic - no favs, nothing. It really upsets me how this fic seems to utterly have failed - and I had meant for it to be entertaining. Not deep or thought-provoking, but fun at least?

So, if anyone has the guts to do so, please drop me a honest line of feedback?

...

(Stalking, though flattering, will only freak out the person you intend to ask out on a date).

Lately, Tatsumi, who was one of the most observant people around, noticed that Watari had developed a strange habit of following him around everywhere he went.

No, it couldn't be described as stalking because, mind you, Tatsumi wasn't going to tolerate such idiocy from anyone - he'd definitely sue the fool who even dared to attempt something like that. Watari, for all his weird mannerisms, wasn't a fool.

Moreover, why would Watari be stalking him, of all people? He hardly attracted suitors.

As far as Tatsumi was concerned, Tsuzuki was far more likely to attract suitors with a penchant for stalking - amongst other other things - than he.

I'm hardly the sort of man who is enticing or riveting, Tatsumi thought, running a hand through his hair.

It wasn't that he considered himself ugly, but Tatsumi knew that he didn't turn heads. And he preferred it that way. Better to remain hidden from the spotlight than attracting unnecessary trouble.

And yet, Watari - as of late - was everywhere. Right now, as Tatsumi threw a glance behind his back, Watari was hiding behind a tree.

Oh yes, we're being very inconspicuous here

God, he really was surrounded by idiots.

It was starting to piss him off. Especially today when he had a) lots and lots of paperwork to take care of b) make sure that Tsuzuki wasn't overdrawing the budget again and c) he'd slept very badly last night because he'd been having nightmares about b).

Also, he'd come here to avoid troublemakers.

Deciding that this had to end, Tatsumi got up from his chair and tapped on Watari's shoulder. "What are you doing here?"

"You- oh Tatsumi! How nice to see you! I was just um," Watari, who was bad -very bad (even worse than he was at drawing) - at coming up with excuses, replied," oh yes - inspecting the bark of the tree! It's for an exp-"

Tatsumi forced himself to smile. "Don't you have work to do? You know that our budget is tight and that any worker who doesn't contribute properly is nothing but a nuisance. Unless you're like that-"

Tatsumi continued to lecture, knowing that this was the perfect way to get rid of annoying people. And it worked: in less than five minutes, Watari murmured something about "work he had to do" and left.

And, for the next few days, Tatsumi was left alone.

(Not wearing glasses is a good option to make yourself look more attractive - but don't overdo it).

Watari had left his glasses at home again - and was causing mayhem wherever he went.

"Where is the blasted desk?" Watari mumbled, his hands gesticulating wildly as he was apparently trying to figure his way around the office. Tatsumi cringed.

Behaves like a bull that's just been branded.

Then, Watari tripped - right into the pile of papers that Tatsumi had just finished putting in order.

Stacks of paper were flying everywhere and Watari was rubbing his head - he'd bashed it against the corner of the desk. "I'm sorry, Tatsumi - I'll make it up to you."

Tatsumi gnashed his teeth; simply making up wasn't enough. Would never be. He'd spent hours ordering everything and this bloody idiot had made everything for nought!

How he wanted to slam his fist against -

But no, Tatsumi thought, he had to remain calm; clenching and unclenching his fist, he remembered that one had to remain civil. Because civility was the key to success.

"Why aren't you wearing your glasses? Or contact lenses?" Tatsumi asked, hoping that Watari had a very, very good reason for not wearing his glasses.

Watari was turning an interesting shade of red. "I - wanted to try out something new. And ... well, contact lenses have never worked for me."

One, two, three - Tatsumi counted the minutes, but it didn't work. The explosion had already started and he couldn't help it. This was the result of having spent too much time in the company of hyperactive, gluttonous, moronic and totally useless fools.

"Watari," Tatsumi started, his voice sweet as honey, but the way Watari paled indicated that this wasn't necessarily a good thing," you'll either wear your glasses tomorrow or I'll make you regret ever having died. Is that clear?"

Watari nodded; he was more than smart enough to know that an angry Tatsumi wasn't to be trifled with.

(Pick-up lines will only get you this far).

Tatsumi was certain that Watari was drunk. In fact, he was sure that Watari had either been drinking too much lately or smoking some very good pot.

First the stalking, then the glasses and now ...

I'd rather not think about this - prepare for the soul to evacuate in one, two ...

Tatsumi felt like screaming: he buried his face in his hands. Good that no one else was present in the office anymore - he could now sigh as much as he wanted to.

He wanted to forgot what Watari had said so badly, but the words were imprinted on his mind - like a film strip that was being played before his eyes over and over again.

(Your eyes are so intense that it makes me want to lose myself in them.

The way you speak makes me hot - speak again so I can melt.

When you move like this, I'm restless. You turn me on.

Darling, you're so pretty that it makes me wild with desire)

And those had been the milder ones. Tatsumi shook his head - what the hell was wrong with Watari?

It couldn't be that he really thought of Tatsumi as being attractive in any way.

Could it?

(If you can't cook, then just let it be)

"Tatsumi," Watari said, his face all expectation.

Tatsumi tensed up immediately; he wondered whether Watari was still high on whatever he'd been taking lately and how to best deal with him.

But, when Tatsumi noticed that Watari had his glasses on and didn't look like he was going to say anything weird, he felt himself loosening up. Maybe, Watari was fine today.

"I've made something for you," Watari exclaimed and thrust a bento box at Tatsumi's face. "It might not be to your taste, but please try it!"

Tatsumi looked at the box for a second and then back at Watari. "Are you ill?"

Watari's smile faltered. "No, I made this for you because um, it's nice to do something for your colleagues from time to time!

Tatsumi really wasn't a prejudiced guy and he believed in giving everyone a chance, but he knew that cooking and Watari wasn't a feasible combination. If his experiments were anything to go by, then this could only taste ... horrendous.

But, because Watari's eyes were on him and he looked as if he'd really tried hard, Tatsumi opened the box, grabbed the chopsticks and tasted ...

Only to spit it out. Immediately.

"What's wrong Tatsumi?"

"Are you trying to bloody poison me?"

So Watari wasn't only high on drugs, but he'd become an assassin in training as well.

(Throwing yourself at your partner will only make you look like a pervert).

Sleep was the key to rejuvenation. Tatsumi liked crawling into bed after a busy day; it was such a pleasure to close his eyes and -

feel someone rubbing themselves against him?

Someone who was not only tall, but also very, very male?

Tatsumi sat up. He rubbed his temples, hoping that this was some sort of cosmic joke.

Unfortunately, it wasn't.

Watari, with his hair undone and glasses off, was in his bed.

"Tatsumi I -" Watari started, pouting and looking as if he was about to start stripping off his clothes at any given moment.

Something that wasn't necessarily bad if a) Tatsumi had been prepared for this mentally and b) it had not come out of nowhere.

Besides, he was tired. Really tired.

Tatsumi might have tolerated the pick-up lines, the bad cooking, the glasses thing and even the stalking. But this was taking things too far. Way too far.

"Get out before I castrate you."

(Sometimes the key to getting a person to go out with you ... is simply to ask!)

"Tatsumi - about that night."

The others in the room - especially Tsuzuki with his eyes wide as saucers - were looking at them.

Tatsumi coughed and asked Watari to accompany him for a walk; Watari obeyed him without protest.

"God, don't talk about things like this in front of everyone," Tatsumi said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Just because you're a freak, doesn't mean you've got to make one out of me!"

"I'm sorry, Tatsumi."

And then Watari fell silent - fiddling with his ponytail and looking genuinely uncomfortable. It was a rarity to see him this solemn; Watari had dark rings under his eyes and was nervously tapping his foot.

His eyes, however, weren't downcast - he was watching Tatsumi, analysing every expression flitting over his face.

Tatsumi knew that the scientist inside Watari was scrutinising, collecting data and coming up with possible solutions to this particular problem.

To think that this is the same man who desperately wants to create a gender-changing potion.

But Tatsumi knew that Watari had many hidden depths; knew that - though spastic and crazy - Watari was capable of being deadly serious when necessary.

After all, hadn't it been Watari who'd made him realise just how close he'd been to letting Tsuzuki die?

I owe you more than you realise, Watari. Had it not been for you, I'd have never been able to let go.

An awkward silence spread between them until Tatsumi finally decided to free Watari from his misery. Watari deserved that much, even if he'd been making life difficult as of late. But Tatsumi was willing to forgive him - because his reasons had been noble. Mostly.

"You like me, don't you, Watari?"

Watari's eyes widened. And he just started at Tatsumi for a while.

"H-how did you guess?"

Tatsumi rolled his eyes. "At first, I thought you were drunk or high, but - the more I thought about it, the more I realised that it's just another of your crazy antics. I mean, you just can't show that you're interested in me without going to those ... um, extremes."

Extremes that included sexual harassment, if you thought about it properly, Tatsumi added mentally.

"But you weren't getting it!" Watari suddenly yelled - and as he did so, immediately turned red. He looked away. "I'm sorry - I really am. I was starting to think that I was losing it. But you never talk or look at me unless it's about money or Tsuzuki. So I did what I had to do to make you look at me - and not through me!"

Watari was seriously upset - his eyes blazing with so much emotion that Tatsumi felt bad all of a sudden. Felt sorry that he'd been so rude and cold to him for the past few days.

Sometimes you don't realise what you've got until it's gone. I won't let that happen again.

"You know," Tatsumi walked over to Watari, placed his hand on his shoulders and forced him to meet his eyes," if you'd simply asked me to drink coffee with you, I'd not have said no."

"Moreover, it's not like I don't look at you," Tatsumi continued; he removed one hand from Watari's shoulder, only to thread his fingers through his hair - which was soft and thick to the touch. "I look at you more often than you think - you've just been too daft to realise it."

Yes, they'd both been daft, it seemed. Tatsumi had always assumed that not saying anything was fine, but - as it seemed - he'd been wrong. Once again, he'd taken things for granted and assumed that Watari knew he cared.

But I just don't know how put it into words.

Deciding to show that he did care, Tatsumi kissed Watari - tentatively and briefly. For the moment, this had to be enough.

Watari was smiling. "Does this mean I make you hot, too?"

"Something like that yes - but please, for the love of whatever you worship, never use pick-up lines again."

And, much to Tatsumi's relief, Watari never did so again.

...