A/N:

This was going to be in my Bunches O' Drabbles Fic, but this was over 1,000 words, so I decided to make it its own separate one-shot.

A giggle.

That was all it took for the world to end.

The lights came on with a faint, barely noticeable click, and the two figures were bathed in a blinding light, as if the Grim Reaper had just shone his flashlight on them.

The fact they were not alone hit them like a boulder crashing to the head. The two teenagers flew around with racing hearts, clinging onto each other; startled and terrified.

Their eyes came to rest upon two less than pleased parents, tapping their feet in disturbing unison, the sleepwear and disgruntled hair letting the teens know they'd gotten out of bed over this.

Akaito quickly released his hold on his girlfriend and coughed loudly, a sheepish grin breaking out on his face.

"Look, I know I've made up a lot of outlandish stories before to get out of trouble, but this time, it's really not what it looks like. . ."

xXx

Which lead him to where he was now, thrown across the couch carelessly with the TV flicked on to some random movie. His normally bright red eyes were dull and dead with weighty bags underneath them, his hair unkempt (more than usual) and his loose t-shirt and black plaid over shirt wrinkled. One leg of his blue jeans was rolled up, a dark green beanie that he "borrowed" from his friend pulled over his head, and his sneakers kicked off halfway across the room, his bloodshot eyes focused on nothing. He simply existed.

Sinister green eyes peeked around the corner, hidden only by the shaggy cover of a mass of dark green hair. The creature slowly crept out from its hiding place, trusting in its victim's ignorance. It slunk confidently over to the back of the couch and stood a few inches back, so to not breathe on the unsuspecting's head and alert him of his presence.

It gazed in satisfaction at the unmoving, statuesque corpse taking up all of the couch with his limp form, before swiftly grabbing hold of the back of the couch and propelling itself onto his legs.

Nigaito beamed sardonically at his older brother. "Well, well, well, what do we have here? The great Akaito Shion wasting his life away on a couch? Getting a head start on that career as a free-loading simpleton, I see." The young preteen reached over on the coffee table to grab a handful of the popcorn residing there and popped a couple pieces in his mouth. He spat them back out immediately, though, his bright face suddenly turning disturbed. "Eww, that popcorn's staler than your jokes. How long have you been out here?"

"Since four in the morning," Akaito droned, his reddened eyes still trained on the TV.

Nigaito's eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. "Four in the morning? Why were you up that late?"

"Because I can, and because I'm older than you, thus better, now shut up," he bit back, his head snapping over to give him a look. His blood-streaked eyes and ungroomed hair only served as to make him all the more irritated looking.

Nigaito could take a hint but, unfortunately, he didn't care if he irritated anyone. So he just rolled his eyes at his brother's assessment and responded dryly, "Whatever, Akaito. If you're not going to give me an actual answer, though, can you at least move your stupid legs? They're very uncomfortable." He shifted a bit, as if to demonstrate the disagreeable nature of their roles as proper seat cushions.

Akaito didn't respond. He merely kicked his legs up, causing Nigaito to jet forward and land with his face smearing across the floor, and sat upright.

Nigaito shouted in shock, before sitting up quick off the floor. He turned around in a snap to glare menacingly at the slightly smug look on his sibling's face. "My face has carpet burn now. . ." he growled.

Akaito smiled tiredly. "Sorry, little man."

Nigaito clamped his eyes shut. Little man. Swallowing back his anger at the nickname, though, he just gave a long sigh and sat back down in his seat, now free of limbs. "No problem, littler man."

Akaito snorted, reaching over for the first time in hours to get some popcorn from the bowl and pop it in his mouth. "And you say my jokes are stale. The difference in height between us is staggering. Nice try, though. Ample attempt, Nii-Nii." Joking was refreshing. He hadn't done that in hours. The familiarity was comforting, and made him smile a bit.

Nigaito smirked to himself, keeping his eyes ahead. "Oh, I wasn't talking about in height. More like length, if you know what I mean. . ."

Akaito stopped short, stunted, his popcorn-filled hand halfway to his mouth and his eyes wide. Nigaito, not expecting a response any time soon, reached over and plucked the popcorn from his fingers and placed it in his own mouth instead.

Finally, after half a commercial break, Akaito unfroze and looked direly at his youngest brother. "Nigaito, I'm the only guy you've ever used that joke on, right?"

Nigaito looked over at him with uncaring half-mast eyes, his mouth still hard at work chewing. "Yeah, why?"

Akaito paused a moment before stating seriously, "Keep it that way."

His younger sibling stared at him a few more seconds, not used to seeing him so serious, before he shrugged. "Sure, whatever you say, littler man."

Akaito stayed quiet a few more seconds after that before he turned to him with a very firm smirk spread across his tired face. "You wish, rugrat."

Nigaito just scoffed, sitting more upright in his seat in a show of importance. "Sorry, Akaito, but I'm above such primitive competitions. You can't make me feel inferior over something like this, like anything." He muttered under his breath then, "Besides, I know when you're bluffing." Raising his voice once more, he inquired, "So why have you been home all day on a Saturday anyway? Normally you're out being public doofus number one by now. What'd you do this time?"

Akaito turned his head back to the TV, unfazed by the insulting inquiry, and just silently mulled over the answer. His once more sullen eyes drifted down to the remote in his hand, and he decided to look for something better to watch. Flipping through channels now, he said, "Nothing bad, Mom and Dad just overreacted and wouldn't listen. Or Dad listened, I guess, but he didn't believe me."

Nigaito stared at him a few seconds, his lips pursed, before he retorted, "I repeat: What did you do this time?"

He sighed, reaching a hand up to run through his red hair in frustration only to find he was wearing a hat. Surprised, he pulled it off his head and stared at it in confusion. "What the hell? Since when do I wear a hat?" Throwing it across the room to accompany his lonely shoes, he went on to reply, "I was just taking Miki up to my room to loan her a few CDs and show her my fish, but those were kinda just excuses to show her my room in general. I'd realized she'd never really seen it before, and I figured, why not?" He threw his arms up in the air. "But since it being a little late and me being my usual impulsive, exciting self don't mix very well, Mummy and Daddy just automatically assumed I was trying to—" He stopped abruptly, realizing he was ranting to a thirteen year old. Looking over at him, as if to affirm his adolescence, Akaito shook his head. "Oh, never mind, you wouldn't understand."

Nigaito frowned, his brows furrowing. "Well, that's insulting. Why not?"

"You're just too young, and it's boy/girl stuff. You just wouldn't get it." Akaito resumed clicking channels, feeling all the more exhausted.

Almost instantly, as if someone had hit a switch, Nigaito's eyes went into slits, his lips pursed, and his face transformed into a rock; hard and cold. "Ohhh, I see. . . You're right. I wouldn't get it. And I have no desire to 'get it.' " He used air quotes. "Women… Useless, evil creatures."

"You wouldn't be here if it weren't for a woman," Akaito stated uninterestedly, not even looking at him.

"Yeah, and neither would Kaiko! Proof!" Nigaito proclaimed suddenly in a dramatic tone of voice, his former low dry tone lost. "That darn Miki keeps getting you in trouble. When will you learn?"

Akaito just gave a very long, tired sigh and put a hand to his face. "Nii, please, I'm not in the mood."

Nigaito rolled his eyes. "You're never in the mood. But I only say these things 'cause I care. Ever since you met her, you just haven't been the same. I mean, you used to be cool! Now look at you, sitting here alone on a Saturday watching reruns of Power Rangers." He scrunched his face up in disgust. "Ugh, horrible show."

"It's not so bad."

"Yes it is. It's mind rotting. You should be out watching a movie or something, not grounded at home watching terribly executed fight scenes."

"There's nothing good out right now. Anyway, I'm fine," Akaito stated emotionlessly, giving him a fleeting glance before his eyes were back focused on the television.

Nigaito huffed. "There's The Avengers. Everyone's raving about that! Watch that!"

Akaito snorted, his hand reaching blindly over to try to find his drink. "Not interested. Do you know that series first started when Mom and Dad were kids? It's like a million years old." He took a loud gulp of his flat soda, as if to help emphasize his point.

"It's been getting a lot of publicity, though. Everyone's seeing it," Nigaito countered flatly.

"Oh, what? So I should just go see a movie I'm not interested in in the least just so I'll have something to talk about with all the people I don't even really like? Nah, I'm good here." Akaito reached down in his shirt to pull out some loose pieces of popcorn from. . .who knows when. After examining the few pieces he'd dug out a couple moments, he popped them in his mouth.

Nigaito averted his eyes from the grotesque scene before his eyes widened and he snapped his head back with suspicious eyes and his bottom lip puffed out slightly. "What if Miki wanted to see it. . .?"

Akaito paused at that, blinking a couple times. "Then I'd go."

He gaped at his audacity. "Why?"

"Because she's my girlfriend." Akaito shrugged, as if it were that simple.

Nigaito exploded off the couch, waving his arms in almost random and violent gesticulations. "See? This is exactly what I'm talking about! She rules you! You worship at her stinking altar!"

Akaito barely even flinched at his outburst. Just observed him a moment from his slumped back position, then shook his head. "No, Nigaito, it's not like that. We're both obligated to see all the movies the other has seen. It's like an unwritten relationship code. Now move, you're blocking the TV."

Nigaito chose to ignore the last part. "Oh, you mean like a few months ago when you wanted to watch Paranormal Activity 3, and she was all, 'Ohhh, no, I don't want to see that. It's much too scary. Let's watch Fluffy Bunnies of Love instead~!' " He batted his eyelashes, before his face went flat. "And then you gave in. Didn't even try to fight it. You sicken me."

Akaito raised his eyebrow at him. " 'Fluffy Bunnies of Love'? It was Casablanca, Nii."

"Same thing!"

Akaito opened his mouth to protest, but then paused. He stared at him a few moments before closing his mouth and turning his uninterested eyes back to the TV. "Okay, you're basically right." Turning to face him once more, he said, "But I didn't give in, okay? Relationships are just about give-and-take is all."

"Oh?" Nigaito asked sarcastically, crossing his arms. "I see, the 'I give, she takes' system. Riiight."

"No, she gives too."

"Oh really? And what does she give?"

Akaito stared at him a long while, his eyes wide. Finally, he looked away, part smug, part amused. "Oh, she gives, you'll just have to trust me."

Nigaito gawked, before pointing a long, dramatic finger at him. "You slut bag!"

Akaito's eyes snapped back to him, alarmed. "Nigaito! How—"

"Oh, what, how could I not know about that stuff when I have our parents?" He shuddered.

He stared at him, before a smirk graced his face. Not a tired, wary smirk. A true, strong, positively amused smirk, the Akaito Shion type that was so sinful it could make preachers everywhere feel suddenly chilled. "Good points you raise. . ." he frowned then, instantly switching gears, "But you're wrong. We just make out."

Nigaito stared at him, confused. "Uh, yeah, duh, what else could you do?"

Akaito stopped mid-reach for his popcorn and stared back at him. "Uh. . .the other thing. . . ?"

Nigaito blinked. "What other thing?"

Akaito remained utterly baffled for a few moments more, before it finally clicked in his head that his brother actually didn't know. He suddenly burst into a grin and found himself having to hold back a pitch of laughter, and did so by waving his hand at his brother and turning his head away so he couldn't see his strained expression. "Oh, you know, just cuddling and stuff. . ." He sniggered. "Um, you might not want to call people 'slut bags' just for making out, though. You watch too much TV, apparently." He brought a hand to his mouth, clenching his eyes shut.

Nigaito gave him an odd stare before rolling his eyes. "Ugh, whatever. You're one to talk, but hey, whatever you say. I'm not saying anything." He grumbled under his breath, "Slut couch potato bag." Raising his voice back up, he said, "So basically, you do whatever she says just so you can. . ." he cringed at the words he was about to use, "Make out?"

Akaito couldn't speak. He just nodded his head.

Nigaito lost it. "Aha! So you admit to your patheticy!"

Kaiko's voice suddenly sounded from the other room. "Not a word!"

Nigaito tried to growl savagely at his sister, but it mainly came out sounding like a cute whine. "Shut up, Kaiko!" Turning his attention back to Akaito, he started once more, his tone loud and exaggerated, "Can't you see how idiotic that girl makes you act? You're willing to throw away your entire day, your entire weekend, just to please her! She's enslaved you! You're no longer Akaito Shion! You're Mrs. Akaito Miki Hiyama! Hiyama! Your free thinking has been sucked out of you at the hand of romance! You have sold your very soul to the devil!"

Akaito, having finally turned to look at him with a straight face, eyed him up and down with a small smile. "Yeah, well. . . considering a hundred years ago that's what we did to them, I figure they're just getting payback." He shrugged, smirking. "They're not really in control, we just let them think they are to appease them."

Nigaito snorted loudly, eyes jetting upwards. "Oh, please! You do not. Maybe that's what you tell yourself, but I've seen you around her. You're a total baby, always making googly eyes and saying yes to whatever she wants. And it's not just you, it's everyone! Mom does the same thing to Dad. It's like they. . . they have this weird spell they put over you that turns you into buffoons." He twisted his face in disgusted fascination, as if he was speaking of frog dissection.

Akaito just stared at him, an odd mix of weirded out and amused spread across his face. He stared at him for a little while longer before sputtering out a sort of guffaw and snort, and pulling out a pair of handy dandy sunglasses from his over shirt pocket. He fiddled with it in his hands a little as he shook his head pitifully. "Oh, Nigaito—"

"Aren't those Kizaito's sunglasses?"

"—Poor, young, naïve, child-like Nigaito. . ." The glasses slid in a glided motion over onto his eyes, and he rose swiftly from his seat to tower over the young man, his arms crossed with the broadest of smirks spreading over his face. "I'm a heartbreaker. You need not worry about me." He popped his collar up then and smoothed his hair back. "But you are right about one thing, little brother. . . I may be grounded but that doesn't mean I can't still have some fun." And just like that, he was out of the room, the television and his exhaustion a distant memory.

Nigaito stared after him, his jaw dropped at the preposterous scene he'd just beheld. Finally, though, he sighed and shook his head, surrendering to reason. "There's no helping him, Nigaito. He's gone. He may be in denial now, but. . . in thirty years he'll be stuck in a dead-end marriage hypnotized by one of those witches, with ten kids and ten cats. . . and you? Well, you'll be famous and signing your name in a concrete square in Hollywood." He grinned. "And Nigaito, well. . . you're just going to have to accept that."

Sighing contently, he plopped down into the now happily vacated couch, grabbed the remote, and switched the channel to something more appealing. . . like Casablanca.

A/N:

I've been picturing Nigaito as someone who's averse to love and would much rather stay away from it, since he feels physically ill of the very idea of being "enslaved" by the female (well, depends on your preference) population. That, and I think he actually has a higher ambition to be an excellent singer and, to extension, an actor. Oi, the headcanons that I come up with. . . OTL Though, I tried to make Akaito act similar to how others might see him as. I'm just practicing using him a bit more because I have another request from my sister for something for him and Miki (it was her idea to use her as the girlfriend. . .again), but as fluff since she says I should try it some more. Not sure. Well, review if you'd like, feedback is appreciated! :D Oh, and I used Hollywood because I'm having trouble finding a city in Japan that it's the equivalent to. ._." Ayuda, por favore? D: