Author's Note: Technically, I think this can be read as a Michi too but it really isn't enough to stand on its own, I guess.
Summary: In which Yamato and Taichi indulge Mimi in her potentially embarrassing, potentially brilliant, exploits.
When Taichi knocked on the door, he had expected everything but Mimi's smiling face to answer his call.
"You're early," she said, letting him in.
"You're not supposed to be here," Taichi pointed out, eyes narrowing at her. "He said you wouldn't be here."
Mimi sighed, waving a careless hand. "I had a change of heart."
"It's supposed to be a guy's night, Mi," Taichi groaned, closing one eye as she leaned in to kiss his cheek, pretending to be bothered by her fussing over him.
"You'll hardly notice me," she assured him, "I'll be busy and I promise not to get in your way."
"Yamato!" Taichi yelled, ignoring her, "Why is your girlfriend here?"
Yamato looked up from his book as Taichi stormed into the living room, all protests and expletives dying in his face once he caught sight of his best friend. The blonde was sitting placidly, one leg folded over the other and very fluffy, very girly white socks on his feet. But most of the attention was commanded by the fact that his blonde hair was pulled back by a black headband and his face looked very, very green.
"You're early," he said, his lips barely moving. "And why are you looking at me like an idiot?"
Taichi's eyebrow arched, his lips twitching into an amused little smile.
"Why the fuck is your face green, Ishida?"
"Oh," he said, as if he had forgotten it was, "It's a mask."
"I can see that, but why the fuck are you wearing it?" Taichi insisted. He looked torn between laughing until his ribs hurt and feeling embarrassed for his obviously emasculated friend.
"It's mint and julep," Mimi answered, walking in with cold beers for both of them, "We always get them on Fridays."
"We, Yamato?" he asked, turning to him with a groan, "Excuse me?"
Yamato shrugged, amused by his friend's surprise and bewilderment.
"It's good for my skin," he said, accepting the bottle gratefully from Mimi's hands, "Helps get rid of excess oil."
"Excess oil?" Taichi stammered, "What – why – what did you do to my best friend?" he asked, turning wildly to Mimi, who seemed to find the whole exchange quite amusing.
"You know," she told him, coming closer to him (far too close for comfort, Taichi could practically count her freckles) and making him swallow with difficulty, "Your skin looks a bit dry. You would benefit so much from a few drops of rosehip oil."
"Get away from me, witch," he groaned, "I don't even know what rosehip is."
"No? I'll be right back, then!" Mimi said, clapping her hands together and rushing towards the bathroom.
"Whatever happened to 'not getting in our way'?" he yelled after her, sending a death glare to Yamato, who was still reading to his leisure. "I'm blaming you," he added, tilting the bottle towards the blonde.
"Just indulge her," Yamato sighed, "She had a shitty day and Sora had to cancel their dinner date because of work."
"Just because you're whipped doesn't mean I have to be too, you know?" Taichi complained, but there was considerably less bite to his words now and Yamato only rolled his eyes, barely acknowledging the comment. He brought the bottle to his lips. "Is she okay?" he added, his voice very quiet.
Yamato turned another page. "She'll live," he replied, "Just a minor setback."
He wanted to press the issue (though he knew better than to do that) but Mimi returned with a handful of products and a blue headband that she forced on Taichi's head. "I promise you'll love it," she said, immediately smothering him with a warm and soft little towel, wiping his face clean. Taichi complained, flailing his arms and cursing very loudly and very graphically, but Yamato noticed how there was very little actual fight in his struggle.
And later, when she left them with homemade appetizers, more beer, and the smell of baking cake; Taichi could hardly find it in him to complain about the fact that there was a sticky, cold pink substance generously spread on his visage.
"I hate your girlfriend," he murmured, biting into a delightful little quiche, his eyes focused on the game in front of them.
"Yeah," Yamato murmured, amused, "You make sure she hears that from you."
When the rest of the guys arrived Taichi was grateful for the mask, as it kept his dark blush hidden from them.
"Er, do we have the wrong house?" Jyou asked with a chuckle, while Daisuke sneakily snapped a picture of his older friends.
"Sorry to disturb you ladies," Takeru said, taking a seat between his brother and almost brother-in-law. "Might we join you for the game?"
"You're funny," Taichi laughed darkly, "Your brother's funny, Yamato."
Ken brought a second round of beers for them and a first for the newcomers, chuckling as he took a seat, his eyes focused on the television set to avoid laughing too hard.
"Should we even ask?" Koushiro began, biting his bottom lip, "Or is that a girlfriend exclusive kind of thing?"
Both sets of eyes narrowed in his directions. "I expected it from everyone but you, Izumi," Yamato muttered, while Taichi asked him very kindly if he would like to feel how a girl hit.
Later, when Mimi came back to announce it was time for them to wash off, Taichi would curse himself silently, unable to keep his hands from the soft, velvety feel of his new and fresh skin. He wouldn't admit it to her or Yamato even, who seemed to really know what was going on, spritzing a cool and fragrant liquid on his face and grinning before getting more drinks for everyone, but his face felt fucking fantastic.
He snapped a quick photo of the mint green bottle and went back, a beer bottle in hand and a rosy undertone to his cheeks that had his friends in snickers again.
"I really hate your girlfriend," he said, taking another swig and ignoring Yamato's smug little smirk. "And I hate you, too."
