Thanks to Fhal for being an amazing muse and filling in plot holes with her crack :D Without her, this fic would just be empty words!

Disclaimer: 'Cause it's about time I did one; Ike, Marth, Roy, Link and TL are property of Nintendo etc.

Critique is more than appreciated, so lay it on me!


RICOCHET

"It's over."

Marth took a deep breath and looked up at his boyfriend – no, former boyfriend – with tear-blurred eyes. Did he just hear right?

His eyes blinked over and over, attempting to bat back the accumulating moisture. Pink lips parted and allowed a shaky croak to escape, causing the red-head to look away from his quivering face. "…Why, Roy?" He feared the answer with such ferocity, but it needed to be asked, he needed to be reassured.

"Because…" The younger male cleared his throat and looked off to the opposite side, to the shore landscape Marth had painted for him. "...I like women now."

Just for that one moment, he wanted to laugh. He wished for Link to jump out from behind the sofa with a camera to capture his terrified face and an amused grin and Ike to walk through the chestnut door after raiding their fridge with that smirk of his that reassured it was all a hoax.

More than anything, he wished for Roy's austere expression to flip into a boisterous laugh, moderately statured arms extending to wrap around his back and pull him close, into the comfort of his chest.

This had to be a joke.

Marth's head shook furiously, eyes not bothering to beat back the sorrow now. "What… The guys always joke that I am feminine… Is that not girly enough for you?"
A low sigh escaped Roy's lips as a hand reached the bridge of his nose. "Marth, please understand. Women have breasts and holes which were made for penetration and are capable of giving families."

Marth brashly scoffed through a hefty sniff. The thought of Roy harbouring a family was preposterous, the boy couldn't even keep his own folders in check. Everyday, he would urge Marth out of bed to help him search for papers on one subject or the other, only to find them in the most ineffable places. In, yes - in, the sofa, atop the freezer, even amongst the pile of dishes he'd sworn to wash up the night previous.

Such excuses. It wasn't about the family at all if he couldn't even look after himself.

"This has nothing to do with the future, does it Roy?" Marth's voice quavered in an pseudo whisper amongst his light sobs, "You're 17. You wouldn't think of that. You're just sick of me."

The way Roy immediately turned on his heel and sighed without a word, ready to leave the room made Marth feel nauseous. It was more than enough of a confirmation in feelings. His slender arms clenched at the cushion resting on the sofa he sat upon - the sofa they had always shared - and drew it in to his chest. He hadn't really understood why Roy always shifted when they sat together to watch a movie or, more recently, faced away from him in bed. But tonight, the answer had been simple: Because I'm not attracted to you anymore.

His face, devoid of its usual vitality, snuggled into the fabric's damp surface. With each gentle sob, he could hear Roy walking around, what he now found so hard to call, their home, which drew him into a pensive state. Where would they each stay now? The only bedroom the flat held could not be shared, especially if his form was frowned uponby the one he had once shared it with. It would only lead to one thing.

"Marth, I'm sorry."

The apologetic urge in Roy's voice caused his nausea to worsen. If he were really so sorry about it, why did he do it? Another bout of tears threatened his eye corners, the student seeing no choice but to take his own leave this time. Roy didn't hesitate at all to stop his movements, but rather watched with a remorseful frown. He would honestly become sick of seeing sympathy in the expressions of all he knew.

Without care, his hand shoved at the bathroom door, foot clumsily extending to close it behind him. His arms instantly reached to grip the sink's edge, steadying his form his body began to shake without control.

It's okay, Marth. You don't need him...

His quivering hand reached forward to spin the chrome taps, taking a deep breath and trying to steady his stature before placing the appendage under the stream to rinse his face. Why was this happening to him?

A broken sob escaped his throat, hand still in place. His grip of the sink loosened and he stepped backward, leaning against the tall shower column. Another sob. His knees weakened and were forced to bend under his weight, limp body tucking behind his thighs neatly. Even he himself hadn't expected to take it this hard, even if it was mutually impending.

... Mutually.

After a moderately long while, a clear knock rapped at the door, followed by a worried sigh. Good god, Marth wanted to die at this point, but he had no choice. His wobbling legs stood, svelte arms scantily gripping onto any and everything for some sort of guidance. A deep breath was huffed and released forth, mind eventually bracing itself enough to go outside.

He pulled at the door as steadily as possible in his current state, marching straight past the red-haired boy with a pout of determination. He didn't have a clue about what he was doing as he entered their bedroom and packed the minority of his clothes into the largest available suitcase. It seemed that Roy hadn't either as he followed and stuttered at the sudden wave of actions.

Before a fully constructed word was able to escape his lips, Marth interjected, voice aquiver. "I need to think about this, Roy." He offered no eye contact or insight to his plans, but his former lover seemed to nod along with it anyhow.

"I know, I'm sorry." A long pause befell the room, the void filled with zips and rustles as the elder finished packing and hauled his bag onto the floor. "...Wait, where are you going?"

Marth's teeth briefly nibbled on his lower lip as he walked into the main hall and grabbed a light jacket. Solemnly, his head lowered and a soft whisper escaped his lips: "I...I don't know."


Copious clatters filled the kitchen as Ike, extremely clumsily from his sleepy state, attempted to rustle himself some brunch. Of course, he had only just awoken after a night of lager and less than mature conversations with Link, especially so as the usual additions to their brood were alone together in their shared flat. The couple of red and blue were always the centre of the two guys' jokes, much to Marth's sarcastic amusement, as the roles of male and female in the relationship were hard to pick out. Well, not too hard if you knew the latter as well as he did.

Scantily, he stumbled over the table centering the room and gathered all the cans of beer taking up the surface in his arms. His mind was in too sluggish of a state to count them at the minute, but by the fact that he had to make two return trips to drop them all in the recycling, it became clear that he and Link had bought and drunk a lot more then he'd realized. That was another month's wages to be saved on over drafted bills then.

Ike blew a raspberry at the sight of a (somewhat) clean table. Gruff and deep, he mumbled to himself as his stomach followed his speech pattern, arm reaching up to open and scan the available cupboard before him.

CoCo Pops.

Protein shake.

Marmalade.

A quick grimace reached his lips, brows knitting in slight remorse. He was scheduled to go shopping for food yesterday but his judgement was clouded. The night of alcohol Link suggested whilst Marth and Roy were together seemed more appealing at the time.

Seeing no choice, Ike grabbed the box of CoCo Pops and the deep green tin. Already having a bowl at hand, he emptied the chocolate cereal into the dish's deepened pan, picking a few out of their cushioned spaces and popping them into his mouth for a taste. "Well, at least they aren't too stale..." He muttered with a slightly displeased wince, taking another and throwing it into his mouth.

With high caution, Ike's hand grabbed the shake's can and gave it a quick shimmy, looping his finger around the lid's pin. With ease, he peeled the silver back and instantly flared his nose, recoiling slightly and groaning at the unpleasant smell. All of the drinks he was given for sport emitted the same foul stench, but appeared to taste better - like some kind of warped milk. It was at times like these that Ike wondered whether Coach Falcon was out to get him, or simply enjoyed watching him suffer.

A low, tuned hum vibrated through his lips as the tin was tipped onto the puffed rice, resounding crackles rising to his ears. As the liquid hit and coursed over the cereal, instead of turning a chocolate brown as normal milk would, it began to curdle into a deep grey pulp.

Ike's mouth opened in disgust. Having both the items been the last of his food supply, he had no choice but to eat the fermented mush or starve for the morning. Perhaps the leftover marmalade would provide the meal with some kick...

Just as he reached over to the cupboard (still pouring) to obtain the marmalade, the doorbell's boisterous ringing resounded throughout the flat. In the initial shock, Ike's body jolted and turned to face the offending area as an instinctual act. The white milk substitute he had previously held over the bowl was cast over his front, Ike groaning at the typical stage of events and walking toward the door, can still in hand. Whoever was at the door had better have prepared a reasonable argument.

"What is it?" He snapped as his arm flung the door open and held it against the adjacent wall, scowl prominent.

"I... I was wondering if you'd let me stay with you for a while..."

Ike's bitter expression disappeared as his eyes looked up and down the figure before him, widening in surprise and awe. This had to be a dream. Marth was certainly the last person he'd expect to see at his front door so early (for him) without a certain redhead and holstering a suitcase.

"Ike...C-Can I come in?"

A frantic nod of the head was given. "Sure, please."

Marth stepped into the apartment as Ike moved his form from blockading the door, smiling with embarrassment as the elder turned to peer at the substance on his stomach in curiosity.

"I-It's a protein shake! I was making breakfast!"

Red-blotted eyes just looked away without a retort or sarcastic acceptance, a hint of amusement becoming exposed as his lips momentarily twitched upwards. Something had definitely happened.

"Umm, if you just go through to the living room, I'll go wash this off and get dressed." Temptation harboured in his mind to ask whether his guest needed the shower too, but Ike just managed to bite his tongue on it. Sick fantasies could wait until later. "...Make yourself at home."

Marth nodded solemnly and watched Ike hurry down the hall into the bathroom, promptly locking the door behind him. It felt so strange, almost surreal, to be standing in Ike's living room with a suitcase. He'd actually asked the mighty and requested to stay.

As he'd spend most of his time nuzzling Roy on the sofa, Marth hadn't really regarded the room's many features.

The first thing Marth noticed of the flat were the many photo frames flocking one shelf to the left of the sofa. He slowly wondered up them and leaned forward, squinting through his tear-blurred, aching eyes to gain a clear view. Each were spaced in a fashion of the viewer being able to review all of the photos without many impairments, sorted through size. In the largest of the frames stood a practically blurred picture, only so much for the background's edges to become hazy, of his family. Ike was sat upon his mother's lap with an infant Mist in his own, a wide grin spread over his rounded face. The woman in the photo's smile radiated a calm, gentle spirit as she looked over her children, with Greil having his arm's enclosed around his wife's and Ike's shoulders.

His pouting mouth curled into a sad smile. Ike always said that he'd never remembered much of his mother or the time of his childhood and pictures were the only distant reminders he had.

Continuing along the row, the curious male marked many pictures of the flat owner's sister and father in various locations; Link and Toon Link in dapper tuxedos, making faces at each other and the camera; himself and Link giving thumbs up to the camera and several smaller pictures of Ike with various friends. As he reached the row's end, a particularly big portrait caught his attention.

His fingers traced its silver frame with a slight sense of awe, lips parting to suck in a shaky breath. He picked the photo up and brought it to eye-level, expression softening at the mood of the photo.

In front of a lush green backdrop, he himself stood with a distinct, gleeful smile, despite the fact of trying to futilely cover it with a hand. The memory of the time was still vivid as it was taken just under a year previous, in the first few weeks he had regarded Ike as a close friend. It had been such a sunny day filled with optimism and the odd cocktail. Roy hadn't been with them at that time and yet...

"Sorry about not being decent, Marth-"

The guest quickly replaced the photograph and stepped back from the shelf, turning to watch his entering host tug on a T-shirt.

"D-Don't be, it's fine, it is your home."

Ike's voice became muffled as he wrestled to cover his stomach with the fabric whilst his head was still inside. "If I may ask, why have you come to me with a particularly large suitcase?"

Marth's breath hitched somewhat, looking up at the other male with pained eyes. He shifted and lowered his gaze to the carpet, speaking in a low, soft whisper, just loud enough for Ike to comprehend.

"Roy... And I broke up."