A Bed Full of Memories

Summary: Letting go is never easy. Taichi thought he had moved on from his first love, Yamato. However, all memories come attached with feelings, and they can't lay dormant forever.

D-Angel: So yeah, I pretty much wrote this chapter in the space of two weeks, which is pretty impressive for me, lol. It wasn't intentional, but once I started writing it I just couldn't stop. I was just eager to try and move the story somewhat forward I guess. This chapter is pretty long as well, but packed full of interesting stuff (I hope, hehe). Oh, and yey for your feedback so far! Love it!

Read on and enjoy you sexy lot!

Rating: M

Warnings: Angst and strong language from the very start (lol)


Chapter 7


"We can't fuck anymore."

With Yamato I knew I had to be blunt. He always read between the lines, digging out an entirely different meaning, and perhaps more truthful edge, within the words I spoke. It was difficult to keep anything hidden from him at the best of times. Reflectively, it didn't particularly help that we were curled up side by side on Yamato's bed when I told him that we had to stop screwing each other; my head resting upon his warm and slightly moist chest. He didn't necessarily have to read between the lines to realise that I craved him more than anything.

Soon there were only four more nights left before I returned to Odaiba. I had hurried off to bed early on the first of those nights; partly to avoid ending up in bed with Yama again, but mainly because my head felt heavy and there was an irritating tickling sensation looming in my depths of my throat. I awoke in the middle of the night to a damp mattress. For one mortifying moment I feared I'd lost control of my bladder in my sleep; but then, as I gradually sat up, I realised sweat was dripping from every possible pour in my body and my limbs were aching, as if I had just run a marathon.

Wrapping the duvet tightly around my body, I was unable to stop my body from shaking. Despite knowing my temperature was sky high, it felt like I was sitting in a room made only of ice. My teeth started chattering together as I grew more aware of my current state, and conflict my body temperature was having with my mind. I couldn't understand what was wrong with me and I became convinced that I was about to die.

"Yama," I croaked weakly; my raw throat felt like I had swallowed a delightful ball of barbwire coated in salt and lemon. I called his name again somewhat louder, wincing in discomfort at the pain clawing at the inside of my throat like a rabid monster.

Moments later, after repeating his name several more times, Yamato burst through the door, his hair ruffled and his pyjama bottoms on back to front. Within seconds he was leaning over me, his eyes stricken with panic seconds after placing his cold hand against my forehead. He snapped his hand away as if he had accidentally caught the edge of a heated cooking utensil.

"You're burning up," Yamato announced, his tone was drowsy but merged with clear apprehension. I moaned pathetically as he left the room, and shortly returned with a washcloth and glass of water clasped in one of his slim hands.

Without a moment's hesitation Yamato tore the bed covers away from my body and perched on the edge of the mattress. As he pressed the freezing cold soggy flannel against my throbbing brow a soothing rush of relief gradually swept down across my body, right down to the tips of my toes.

"Feeling better?" Yamato asked as he gazed down at my pained face in the darkness.

"I'm c-cold," I complained. My clammy hands tried to scramble about for the duvet, but soon gave up after I realised Yama had thrown them completely off the bed. Realising my discomfort, Yamato helped me sit up then handed over the glass of water which he had placed on the bedside table.

"This will help." Yamato kept his arm fixed around my waist, supporting me upright as I hungrily gulped down the glass of water he had handed over to me, savouring the tasteless liquid, sighing as it briefly eased my sore throat until the final drop had left the glass. Yama leant towards me; his lips skimming against my own before he sealed the gap and kissed me, then he effortlessly grabbed the empty glass from my loose grip.

"Try and relax," Yamato's velvet voice hushed as he lowered my upper body back down onto the mattress and ran his gentle hand across my cheek, "I'll be right back."

I whined loudly as he rushed out the room. This time it seemed like he was gone for much longer. As my eyes focused on my darkened surroundings, trying to take my mind off my ill state, the ceiling gradually began drifting further away as did the walls and the rest of the furniture. I felt unbearably vulnerable, and I'm reluctant to admit I was frightened.

The empty void lurking in my stomach was once again filled when Yamato came back, this time with a blanket which I gladly draped over my body once he had dropped it down onto my sweaty body; despite it did next to nothing to stop the bitter chill and deliria I was feeling. A familiar warmth enveloped me however when Yamato crawled fully onto the bed, although he was careful not to snuggle up too closely to me, worried I would overheat or something. He stayed by my side holding my hand until I finally drifted back off into a virus induced sleep.

Over the next couple of days I was advised not to get out of bed, therefore Yamato was unable to continue his planned tour of Osaka for me. It was a shame, but then again, I knew that if I hadn't got ill we would have been rolling around together between the sheets, exploring each other instead of Osaka.

My fever passed by the following night, although my throat was still red raw and my nose was still a little bit sore and runny. Yamato relished playing nurse; taking my temperature at regular intervals and bringing me aspirin and lemon tea with honey. It was more than what Daisuke had ever done for me when I had been ill several months ago... Not that I resented him for it. He was, well, still a kid, and more than often I was the one looking after him.

Yamato did his best to keep me entertained, particularly with his guitar playing and by cooking me fresh miso soup and okayu; my two favourite dishes to chow down on whenever I was sick (well, they were the only ones I could physical stomach). I was almost fighting fit on the final night, which crept up on us all too quickly.

"It's a shame you didn't get to do everything you wanted," Yamato spoke with resentment during dinner that evening.

"I got to see you, didn't I?" I placed my chopsticks down, smirking as his cheeks gradually turned an appealing shade of pink. An embarrassed Yamato was such a deliciously rare sight, and it somehow managed to just about mask out the guilt buried in the core of my heart. Daisuke had been phoning and texting me quite a bit since finding out I'd fallen ill (Yamato had answered my phone whilst I was elegantly puking my guts up in the toilet). He was eager for me to return home, although he didn't suggest that I should try and catch an earlier flight.

Despite I was feeling a lot better since the night of my fever, Yamato still insisted he'd pack my suitcase for me after I stubbornly decided I would do all the washing and drying up.I predicted Yama would have been done packing the majority of my bits by the time I had finished washing up. However, by the time I edged into the spare room, all my clothes and belongings were neatly folded and stacked outside the suitcase which would have been empty if it wasn't for Yamato sitting in it, his knees tucked up against his chest and slender arms wrapped around his legs.

He tilted his head up, exposing his paler than usual face.

"Take me with you, Chi-Chi."

As his voice cracked, I realised he had been trying to lighten the mood but hadn't quite manage to succeed. The realisation that we wouldn't probably see each other again for quite some time had crumbled down on top of him, and now his face was stricken with solid sorrow.

I knelt down still gazing into Yamato's blue depths and placed both my hands on his cheeks. His skin was burning hot and he was trembling. Tears were welling up in his eyes. An overwhelming wave of sadness crashed over me when two audible sobs fell from his lips. I hated seeing him like that. His arms wrapped around my waist and buried his head into my t-shirt, his tears soaking through as he continued to cry. I couldn't believe that on top of us having to part again Yama had caught my cold.

He felt surprisingly light in my arms as I lifted him up and carried him onto the bed before I helped him out of his damp clothes. That night it was my turn to play nurse.


I can't say I slept properly that night; knowing I had to be up in less than three hours when I'd finally succeeded in stabilising Yamato's temperature somewhat. After I stuffed my folded clothes and other belongings as best as I could into my suitcase and hand luggage bag, I perched back down onto the bed and removed the lukewarm flannel from Yamato's forehead.

A small croak fell from Yamato's parted lips and then his eyes gradually flickered open. His fingernails lightly clawed against the fabric covering the mattress, making a soft grinding noise. I ended up taking his hand in mine; his body quickly relaxed as I massaged his palm and elongated fingers.

"My flights in a few more hours," I announced despondently, letting go of Yamato's hand, "I have to head to the airport soon to check in and stuff."

"I'll drive you," Yamato insisted, kicking the blanket away from his body. He clumsily swung his long legs off the mattress whilst keeping one hand clutched against his brow; I readied myself to catch him in case he fell. As he stood on the spot momentarily I noticed he was quivering whilst trickles of sweat were still dripping- like lonely raindrops- down his porcelain skin. "Come along."

"No," I snapped, perhaps a little too sharply. After taking a calming breath in, I continued to talk. "You can't drive, not when you're in the same state I was."

"Ha," Yamato exhaled before he slumped back down bedsides me on the edge of the bed and momentarily gazed up at the ceiling. "Nothing compares to how shit you feel when you come off heroin," he meekly joked.

During my stay in Itami I couldn't find the confidence to ask how things had been for him during those years of recovery; but as I later found out, it hadn't been a breeze. Yama closed his eyes and placed a shaky hand against his right upper arm, clearly reliving the battle he had faced whilst in rehab.

"Perhaps you're right," Yamato eventually admitted the truth of the matter, although there was reluctance in his hoarse voice. "I'll sort you out a taxi instead."

Relief would have edged through my body, but I couldn't stand the thought of Yamato being ill and alone; even though I knew he could cope better than I could. To leave him like that after he had taken such great care of me made me feel like such a criminal.

"I would stay, to look after you, but..." It wasn't all about Yamato I suddenly reminded myself. "Daisuke would..."

"...It wouldn't be such a good idea anyway," Yamato spoke over me as he carefully climbed to his feet once more, brushing his hand against my arm for a fleeting moment. "My Dad returns home tomorrow evening."

Of course, we both lived such different lives.

My Mum had always been relaxed with me, allowing me to get on with my life as I pleased (so long as I wasn't harming myself). Whereas, since Yamato had left rehab, his dad was completely paranoid that his son was going to end up back on drugs, which is why he insisted that Yamato stayed in Osaka and commuted to University for his lectures and seminars, opposed to just allowing him to go live in Kyoto and allowing him the freedom any twenty year old student deserves.

Sadly, I knew Natsuko- Yamato's mum- was responsible for that decision; she had Yamato's dad completely under the thumb. I later learnt that another one of her rules was blacklisting me from Yamato's life... Something about me being a poisonous influence. I can't say that I blamed her for having that impression of me; things were never destined to go smoothly when we first met at Yamato's brother's funeral.

The wait by the front door was agonising, like an irritating blister rubbing against the back of a shoe. Yamato and I made small talk, although I was more than aware that his throat was probably killing him. I opened the door the moment I heard the faded sound of tires crunching against gravel, feeling sick to my stomach as I stepped outside into the bright and beaming sunlight. Not only was I leaving Yama behind but I was soon going to see Daisuke for the first time after severely cheating on him.

"Call me when you get home," Yamato instructed as he leant against the front doorframe, his eyes squinting somewhat. With the sun shining down onto his face, I saw the true extent of how badly his illness was affecting his physical appearance. His hair was a little greasy and dishevelled and heavy bags were tucked under his eyes, contrasting against his pasty skin. It somewhat reminded me of four years ago, at the point where Yamato had just started fiddling with hard drugs.

"Don't worry about me," I affirmed, shuffling a little bit towards him in hope I could get him to edge back inside the house, "get back to bed and rest."

Yamato rolled his eyes. "You really haven't changed a bit, Chi."

When his lips curled up into a small strained smile I couldn't help but tilt my head towards his, solely drawn to his magnetic lips. However, I moved my head away and arched an eyebrow when Yamato took a single step back after sharply poking his finger against my stomach.

"I don't want you getting ill, again." That playful smile was still lingering on his face.

Like catching my own virus back mattered, I thought. I threw my hand luggage onto the floor and placed my hand behind the back of Yamato's head, curling my fingers around several strands of his hair, before forcing his mouth against mine. My head started spinning as he placed an arm around my waist, drawing me closer to his burning hot body (only covered by the thin dressing gown he was wearing). Pulling away was difficult, but when the taxi rudely beeped his horn I realised our time together here was up.

I waved to him as I climbed into my taxi, and then quickly turned my head around to look out the side window after settling my soft luggage bag down by my feet and fastening my seatbelt. Yama was stood stiffly in the doorway; he looked so pale and rigid he reminded me of a susceptible sculptured statue. As the car drove away, down the driveway, I continued to look over my shoulder through the rear view window. I witnessed him bury a hand into his face, concealing his mouth as he swayed when his knees buckled and he almost collapsed onto the ground.

Seconds later, the taxi driver turned right and Yamato disappeared from my view altogether. In all my life I had never felt so broken. My arms remained hanging limply by my sides as the unforgettable display of Yamato practically crumbling before my eyes replayed in my mind over and over again. He had managed to be so strong up until that point; and despite it was hauntingly refreshing to see him express his raw emotions, it only made things harder for me to try and forget about everything that had happened between us in the space of two weeks. I knew, however, that I couldn't afford to express my sorrow, not when I knew it was my turn to be strong; my turn to lie to Daisuke. Lie like Ken had to him with Miyako.

As the airport appeared in the near distance I managed to hold back my tears and buried my guilt as deep within my heart as I could whilst I headed back home to reality.


D-Angel: The above is going the last Yama/Tai scene for a little while now so I hope you all got your fix from this Chapter (despite it was laced with soooo much angst!). I've already got cracking on Chapter 8, but am also focusing on also trying to update my other (poor neglected) stories. There may be an update for something next month, unlikely to be this story though :(

Tai: Thank Gawd, you treat me so badly in this story!

D-Angel: Indeed I do :)

Tai: :(

D-Angel: Annnnyways, hope you likey this chapter and the story so far! Opinions, ideas and constructive criticism are always more than welcome; I do take them on board! Take care for now, and I'll see you next chapter (whenever and wherever that will be!).


D-Angel

13/02/11

P.S. Happy Valentine's Day to all!