Warnings and Disclaimers: Digimon Adventures does not belong to me. All copyright infringements were completely intentional. This is a non-profit Fan Fiction; it is written only for entertainment and will only be used for entertainment. Also, this is shounen ai, yaoi, June—whatever you want to call it. Meaning it contains male/male relationships and since it's a lime, some male/male sexual interplay. Not a lot but, some. You have been warned.

Note: My first Taisuke…be afraid, be very afraid.

Family Affair

Chapter 1

I had just walked into one of the most popular dance clubs in all of Tokyo. I wasn't sure why I was here. I've never been much of a dancer. I guess, I just wanted to try something different. Though, I did wonder why I had come alone. I had never been to a club alone, so why come alone on my first time? I was a little nervous about being in here. Everyone looked so glamorous while I just looked like, well, Yagami Taichi in dark blue velvet pants and pale blue, un-tucked, half-opened, button up shirt. But, I guess, I must have looked good if they let me in there in the first place, na? Actually, I didn't give a flying fuck and a rolling donut what they thought of me.

I moved as gracefully as I could around the dancers. The heat from the strobe lights making me sweat as I moved around the sensual dancers caressed in dark blues, reds, greens and whites. The music pounded relentlessly in my ears, drowning out anything else. The bodies continued to move together, as if one body—one mind. Swaying, synchronized with the beat of the music. And I couldn't help but get caught up in it all. My own body moving with all the faceless, multicolored dancers.

My eyes closed, letting my body take command. As I have stated before, I'm not much of a dancer. Actually, dancing is one of the few things I'm extremely self-conscious about. But as I was moving with the rest of the crowd, feeling the hands of strangers' glide across my body. I found myself not caring and, just simply enjoying.

I'm not sure how long I was on that dancer floor. It could have been from five minutes to fifteen to an hour. I wasn't sure, too busy caught up in this new feeling. This feeling that made me feel free. Free from the shackles of responsibility, free from the societal rules that bound me so tightly that they cut deeply into my wrist. My heart was awakening again, soaring high, protected, strangely, by the wings of strangers.

It was, all in all, a strange yet wonderful feeling. One that I seemed to relish, not wanting to let go of. Like if I had taken a drug and was now addicted.

Though that, of course, was just the feeling that came with the moment. The need to go on forever doing something that you truly enjoy. Kind of like wanting to hear your favorite song played over and over again. And I knew, like everyone else did, the consequences of hearing your favorite song repetitively.

You get tired of it.

As did I. Not to the extent that I would never return. On the contrary, I wanted to return. This was my port in the storm. Here was where I would rejuvenate myself. Cleanse myself of the lies that clung to my spirit. I guess, I make very little sense, spewing out all this poetic nonsense, but this is how I feel. I can't change it.

But, I've gone off track. There is something that I need to talk about. Something that began that night.

I remember it like it had happened ten minutes ago. It had happened after I weave my way out of the dance floor. A few hands lingering on my body as long as possible, hoping to pull me back in.

But I was tired and in want of something to drink. All the heat from the closely packed bodies, the lights, and the movement making me feel like I was dehydrating.

I moved towards the bar, asked for a beer and showed my ID. The bartender nodded and in a few seconds, I was holding a can of beer. I didn't want it poured into a mug or anything. I never minded drinking straight from the can. I ,actually, prefer it, you can't crush a mug after your done.

My eyes wondered around my surroundings, taking in anything and everything that was around me. It was, to me, a normal nightclub. Nothing extremely special, exactly the way Mimi and Yamato had described it to me. More then one floor, strobe lights, music, withering bodies on the dance floor. Nothing to out of the ordinary.

Just then something had caught my eye. It was a room, tucked away in a far-off corner, near the spiral staircase that led to the second floor. The door was silver and it reminded me of wrinkled tin foil. There were stain glass windows on either side of the door. They were large so, I guessed, they were used so that whomever was in the room could look out at the dance floor, which was adjacent to it.

Out of extreme curiosity, I stood up and wandered towards the door. I looked at it for a few minutes, searching for anything that would indicate that I shouldn't enter. But there wasn't anything (like that would have stopped me anyway). So I went in.

The room was smaller then the rest of the place and it was sound proof so the music from the rest of the club could not be heard. This room played its own music, though, not the hectic beats and fast paced rhythms of outside, but slow, calm beats intertwining with sensual rhythms. Strobe lights were replaced by soft lamps, making more shadow then light. And there was furniture: a few sofas, platforms covered with fake animal skins and pillows, and two or three chairs.

I moved deeper into the room and began to notice the people. All couples or threesomes lounging around caressing, kissing feeding each other erotic foods. All types of lovers, straight, lesbians, gays; most ignoring me and a few giving me a sort of come hither look. Of course, I had no intention of joining them, but it was flattering non-the less.

It wasn't anything that I found interesting. I had not come here for sex or to watch people having sex, so I turned, ready to leave. When something—someone—caught my eye. I moved deeper, peering in through the dimness of the room. My eyes narrowing to see better, then widening as my suspicions were proved correct.

A few feet ahead of me, laying on a platform—covered in leopard skins and surrounded by pillows—was Daisuke. He lay there on his back, dressed from head to toe in black leather. Zipped up leather vest, tight leather pants that became hidden under knee-high boots. Thin leather cords criss-crossing and coiling around his visible forearm. Lips smeared in black, nails painted black, and a black collar intertwining with thin silver chains.

Breathtakingly beautiful and sinfully sexy. I was shocked beyond words, staring at him, noticing how I could see every muscle flex through the leather as he moved or shifted.

He then smiled, though that smile was not directed at me. And in a second, I saw whom it was directed too. For he was crawling towards Daisuke, stopping only when he hovered above the redhead. Long strands of silver hair brushing across tanned arms, making Daisuke visibly shiver.

They said something to each other. I didn't catch it, they were a little out of hearing distance and then there was the music, though light it could drown out whispers. Afterwards, Silver Hair leaned forwards and pressed his lips to Daisuke's, who returned the kiss passionately. I was a little lost but more stunned then anything else. Who was this guy? I never knew Daisuke had a boyfriend. Hell, I never knew Daisuke liked guys! But then again, after graduating high school we lost touch. Well, I lost touch with all the younger chosen. It's all my fault really, but that's a different story all together.

As I watched that man kissing and caressing the red head. Watched as his lips grazed across tanned cheeks, a pink tongue trailed down a strong jaw line down to the collarbone and back up, showering his neck with kisses, I couldn't help the rush of jealousy and this uncontrollable yearning that gnawed at my stomach.

Jealously? Why was I jealous? I understood the yearning. The need for it to be my hands and lips gliding across that soft flesh. For it to be me instead of him worshipping that leather encased body. I wanted to be the one that caused Daisuke to mewl, moan and groan. Wanted my lips to touch those full ones. That was the yearning, and it was understandable. Daisuke looked good! Beyond that. So the horny-ness was understandable. But the jealousy? Was I jealous because it was Silver Hair touching Daisuke instead and not me?

No, it meant more then that. Though that was a huge chunk of the reason. I wanted him bad. And the need grew with every sound he made.

The two continued, neither noticing me. Silver Hair touching, caressing, kissing while Daisuke's hands roamed his back, sometimes leading their mouths back together. And I just watched like a fourteen-year-old boy with a hot teacher changing right across the lawn. I'm surprised I wasn't jerking off.

Again, I lost track of the time. Just watching them, until Daisuke's brown eyes opened and locked with mine. I stiffened, scared out of my mind. What would he say? The hell with that, what would he do? I'm pretty sure it wasn't going to be pretty. Daisuke has a temper to rival any viral Digimon. And I knew he wasn't going to be happy with the idea of being watched.

And for the hundredth time that night, I was surprised. He just looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. Then he turned and pressed his lips against Silver Hair's, closing his eyes again and completely ignoring me. The first thing that popped in my head was: "I didn't know Daisuke was an exhibitionist." I quickly squashed that thought.

His eyes reopened just before the kiss ended, and wandered back to me. Silver Hair didn't seem to notice (not that I blame him) to busy trailing the expanses of Daisuke's neck and chest. While Daisuke continued to look at me, capturing me with his eyes. Large, brown eyes that spoke volumes. Volumes of what? I didn't know, they were encoded.

Those large eyes continued to hold me as Daisuke's hands continued their exploration of Silver Hair's back. Wandering over his back, down his forearms, under the white silk shirt.

During it all, those eyes held me in place. And all I could wonder was why? What did he want? Those eyes weren't inviting. They were just, well, empty—excepting, maybe.

I finally was able to turn away; they were becoming even more intimate. It wasn't my place to watch. I didn't want to watch. It was making me sick and angry.

I couldn't take it anymore. My head hurt, my loins were on fire, I was confused, tired, horny and so, I felt.

TBC…

This has been sitting in my hard drive for a couple of months—more then that actually—and I thought I'd post it. I'm not exactly sure how fast I'll be coming out with chapters. I still have to finish Secrets and Haunted. But I already have the story written out in my head so all I gotta do is find time to write it. And not to mention I gotta like what I write. Got a tendency of hating everything I put down. Though the second chapter will be up by tomorrow! I'd post it now but I gotta go over it and I ain't got no time—two in the morning don'tcha know! Need sleep!