Notes: Whoa, long time…*people glare* My apologies. I've been a bit lazy and can't seem to get in the right mood for this. It took four straight hours of "Heaven is a Place on Earth" for me to get in that mood, hence the lyrics thrown into the middle. Once again, I apologize. I might mention that this is a hell of a lot longer than the other chapters - like, 1000 words longer. Anyway, here it is so enjoy. And review…please? ^_^
* * * * *
Matt glanced at the clock once again before glaring at the boy next to him. Actually it was more like on top of him, but Matt preferred not to see it that way. It was 9:31 a.m., a time that he had not seen for weeks.
And he was not particularly pleased about it either, mind you.
Although he really had no idea what had caused him to awake at such an early hour, he sincerely suspected that it had been Davis, who had, in the course of the night, decided to throw one leg over Matt's hip and virtually lie on him. Not to mention that every once and a while Davis would shift positions slightly, causing…friction that Matt felt was uncalled-for.
He silently debated waking the younger boy, feeling more than a bit uncomfortable. But for reasons unknown, he couldn't bring himself to do it. However, it might have had something to do with the fact that when he'd tried to disengage himself from the boy's grip, Davis had made a whimpering sound and snuggled a little closer.
Despite Matt's never-ending distaste with him, it was undeniably cute.
And, of course, for once the auburn was finally completely silent. That was a plus.
So Matt had endured it, listening to his own breathing and the occasional odd sounds that came from his apartment, and trying not to concentrate on the thigh pressed, not at all uncomfortably, into his groin.
Instead, he tried to think of something safe, like the Teenage Wolves. That was a nice, innocent topic. They had a practice scheduled for sometime soon, didn't they? When was it? Was it the next day or the day after? Who had scheduled it? Probably Mikey. Did he honestly think that Matt would remember it? Who the hell did Mike think he was, anyway? Didn't he know that…
Davis shifted again, and Matt felt a burst of hot air on his neck.
Goddamn male hormones.
Find a center, find a center…The band, he thought frantically as that thigh pressed down against him. Mikey scheduling practice. Digimon. Stingmon. Women. That horrid lesbian porn movie Tai brought over that one time. Tai…no, worse…Tai naked. There…calming down…wait a second. Tai looks sorta like Davis…
Damn the stars anyway.
Matt tried again to wiggle out of his grasp, now finding it even more impossible than before. He couldn't get out of Davis' embrace if his life depended on it. Not without waking him, anyway. He eyed the boy on top of him distastefully.
Davis shifted again, tightening his hold on the blond and burying his face into Matt's neck, sighing contently.
Matt's gaze softened ever so slightly, and he leaned his head against Davis's in exasperation, silently cursing whoever the hell thought it would be funny to place him in this situation.
He closed his eyes, and slowly, before he even realized he was doing so, he fell asleep, lulled by the steady breaths of the boy above him.
* * * * *
Matt woke up two hours later, alone and feeling as though his bladder was about to burst. He wondered idly at the fact that he could literally feel every single movement that his bladder made before realizing that he'd best get to the bathroom and not sit marveling over it. He threw his legs over the edge of the bed and prepared to sprint out of his room.
He made it about a half a step before he fell flat on his face. He glowered at his tingling leg, which had apparently been asleep. He felt, with a sense of alarm, his bladder lurch, and he realized that if he didn't get to the bathroom within two seconds he was going to pee, toilet or not.
"Fuck," he muttered, eying his leg again, which had regained next to no sensation.
Someone, somewhere, he realized, hated him.
Matt summoned up all of his strength and began to half-crawl out of his bedroom and into the hallway. He murmured a few more curses and slowly made his way towards the bathroom.
The door slammed loudly.
And only when he was slouched over the toilet, balanced only by the sink that had been conveniently placed directly next to said toilet, and his bladder completely empty, did Matt wonder where Davis was.
With sudden panic, he tried to remember if the boy had been in the bedroom or the hallway to witness his trip to the bathroom. Matt calmed down when he was satisfied that no one had seen.
So, where was the devil child then?
Running through the various possibilities in his head, Matt moved to zip his pants up and froze when his hands didn't encounter a zipper. He glanced down, noticed his boxers, and remembered the time of day, once again cursing for being awake so early.
Matt left the bathroom, silently praising the inventors of instant antibacterial soap, and froze.
Someone was singing.
"When I'm lost at sea/I hear your voice and it carries me."
Davis, Matt decided after a moment, is in the kitchen and singing along with the radio. And to a damn good song too.
With a slight grin, the musician followed the sounds and paused at the entrance of the kitchen, grin growing into full-blown smirk.
"In this world we're just beginning/To understand the miracle of living," Davis sang, using a large spoon as his microphone, moving as though he were doing some odd mix between the Electric Slide and the Watermelon Crawl.
Of course, Matt is Japanese, as you remember, so those two dances meant nothing to him. Pity. To him, it simply looked…silly.
There was a large pot on the stove, which, judging from the smell, was macaroni and cheese. Occasionally, Davis paused in his movements to glance into it. If he noticed that he was being watched, he gave no indication.
"Baby I was afraid before/But I'm not afraid anymore."
Matt cringed as he hit a particularly bad note, probably due to the fact that he was attempting to sing in a woman's voice. And failing miserably at it.
All sense of coordinated dance moves ceased as the chorus approached and Davis began to merely bob his head and gyrate his hips along with the music. Matt's snort of amusement was drowned out by Belinda Carlisle's voice, with Davis's a beat behind and a bit off key.
"Ooh baby do you know what that's worth/Ooh heaven is a place on earth/They say in heaven love comes first/We'll make heaven a place on earth."
Davis paused once again to peer into the pot before returning to his inane dancing, and Matt thanked the radio station for not playing "Lady Marmalade" instead. He was certain that he didn't want to witness Davis's version of that.
"In this world we're just beginning/To understand the miracle…eek!" Davis exclaimed as he caught eye of Matt smirking in the doorway. In a quick motion he turned off the radio and leaned against the counter, attempting to look nonchalant. "You didn't see that."
"No," the blond said, grin widening even farther. "I didn't."
"Mmhm. So, just how much didn't you see?" A faint blush appeared on Davis's cheeks as he struggled to keep eye contact.
"I don't know. At least a minute or two."
"Oh." His voice was vague and quiet. A few feet away from him, the pot of macaroni began to bubble and overflow. "So…"
"You're destroying my kitchen," Matt interrupted casually, not taking his eyes away from the other boy's.
"What?" Davis skimmed the room before his gaze rested on the stove. "Shit!" He began to frantically scour the kitchen for something to clean it up with. "Shit, shit, shit, shit…"
Matt rolled his eyes, calmly strolled up to the bubbling pot, and blew on it until it stopped overflowing. He picked up the container gingerly and held it in front of him, raising an eyebrow at Davis, who had finally discovered the dishtowels but hadn't yet abandoned his mantra of "shit".
"You're trying to kill me, aren't you, Davis?"
"No, I just didn't…" He froze in front of the stove and stared in frightened awe at the coil that the pot occupied only moments before. "Dear Lord, it's evaporated."
Matt laughed briefly. "No, it didn't." He showed the other teen the pot he held in his hand.
Davis relaxed immediately and began to wipe up the bubbly water.
"Turn off the stove before you do that. I don't need the kitchen catching on fire," Matt instructed thoughtfully, as though he were merely commenting on the weather.
"Shit." Davis quickly shut it off. "I'm sorry, Matt. I'm so sorry. I've destroyed your kitchen."
"No you haven't," he said, rolling his eyes again. "I've done much worse things to it. God, Dad used to do this daily."
"Why aren't you mad?" Davis asked, unable to help himself.
"What?"
"I thought you'd be pissed. Normally you would have. By now you'd have bit my head off and made so many sarcastic remarks that it wouldn't even be funny. Are you feeling all right today?"
Matt shrugged as he watched him. "I don't know. I think I'm getting soft. God, and only after two days. I'm pathetic."
Davis gave him an odd look but decided it unwise to comment.
"Davis, may I ask a question?" Without waiting for an answer, Matt continued. "Did you eat any cereal today?"
"No, I was going to eat that." He gestured towards the pot.
"Then why the hell did we absolutely have to go grocery shopping yesterday if you weren't even going to eat the damn cereal?"
Davis pouted and glanced at the blond. "I don't know. I just didn't feel like cereal this morning. I wanted macaroni instead." He paused. "But consider yesterday a bonding experience."
Matt shot him an amused look. "A bonding of what, exactly?"
"Glue to plastic, Matt."
"Ooh, good one. I'm proud of you, Motomiya." He grinned again.
"You're very odd. You know that, don't you?"
The blond shrugged and waved his hand distantly. "Whatever. So since you've nearly killed this macaroni, how about I fix you something edible?"
"Whatever," Davis mocked.
Matt glared and the kitchen was silent for most of the rest of the morning.
* * * * *
Click. Click. Click.
"Is it possible for you to actually hold a pen silently?"
"No."
There was a loud sigh as Matt rolled his eyes dramatically and returned his attention to the green notebook in his lap.
"So you write songs in that thing?" Davis asked innocently.
Click. Click. Click. Click.
The other boy looked murderous but managed to contain his exasperation. "Yes, I do."
"Cool. Can I hear the song you're working on?"
Matt gave his current page a critical eye and mentally flinched at the words 'I hate Davis Motomiya' that were scrawled multiple times across the white sheet of paper.
"Maybe some other time," he answered and proceeded to doodle a stick figure with goggles and an arrow being shot through its head.
Click. Click. Click.
"Matt, your house is really boring."
The pen suddenly flew across the couch, causing Davis to glance up in concern and Matt to stare back impassively.
"I'm sorry," was the quiet response.
"You don't have any video gaming system or anything?" Davis asked, tilting his head slightly.
"No. I've told you that ten times."
"Oh."
Click. Click. Click.
"Can you please stop that?"
The younger boy gave him a confused look. "Stop what? I'm not doing anything."
Click. Click. Click. Click.
"Stop clicking the goddamn pen!"
Davis pouted suddenly and set the offending object down cautiously in front of him. "Sorry." He blinked a few times and took a deep breath. "Do you have any games?"
"Davis," Matt declared, throwing his songbook down. "I didn't have a Nintendo two seconds ago, and I don't have one now!"
"I meant, like, a board game that we could play."
The musician grinned sheepishly and bit his lip lightly. "I don't know. I'm sure that we do. I used to love playing board games a few years ago. They're probably in my closet somewhere."
Davis had disappeared before the last sentence even fully left Matt's mouth. He returned a few minutes later carrying two long boxes. "Candyland?" he asked, holding up the first box with a sadistic smile.
Matt flushed bright red. "It was TK's," he muttered as he studied the carpet pattern intently.
"Mmhm. I'm sure. Don't worry," Davis said with a wink. "All of your dirty little secrets are safe with me." He set Candyland down on the couch arm and held up the other game. "Wanna play a game of two-person Pictionary?"
"No," was the stern reply, punctuated by an intense glare.
"Oh." Davis didn't seem at all fazed. "That's okay. I can amuse myself elsewhere." He prepared to leave. "Say, I wonder if Tai knows about that pair of panties that you have…"
Pictionary was seized from his hands and thrown onto the couch.
"You know, it has been a while since I've played this."
"That's the spirit, Ishida!"
* * * * *
"You call that a candlestick?"
"Yes, I do."
"It sucks."
"It does not. It is the greatest drawing of a candlestick in the entire history of candlestick drawings!"
"Davis, you are an idiot. What the hell is that thing sticking out of it?"
"That's called fire, Matt."
"You call that fire? It looks like a bra."
"Right. Because you'd know about that stuff, hm?"
"Goddammit, Davis!"
"Just pick a card and draw. We've been playing this for over an hour and we're not even halfway done."
Matt sighed and picked up a card. "What category are we in?"
"Object."
"Mm." The older boy gave the card a thoughtful look. Coffee table, he thought. Well that shouldn't be too hard to draw. Matt pushed up his sleeves as Davis flipped over the timer, and began to draw a coffee mug. And a damn good coffee mug too: a perfect cup with a perfect handle and even perfect steam that came from out of the open top.
Davis stared at it for a moment, wheels turning in his head. "A bed," he declared proudly.
"Aargh!!"
* * * * *
Square dance.
"Oh, this'll be easy," Matt claimed, setting the card facedown on the ground. "You'd better get this."
"Okay. I hope that I do. Ready?" Davis fingered the plastic hourglass and, at Matt's nod, flipped it. "Go."
The blond began to draw a few awkward stick people with bent and distorted legs. To many this would look completely indistinguishable. But to Davis, who had already witnessed a similar drawing, knew it instantly.
"Dancing."
Matt nodded happily. Maybe they would finally get off of this square.
Then he drew a square that connected all of the stick figures feet together. I'm practically giving this to him, he thought.
Davis, however, appeared to be puzzled. "What?"
Matt resisted the urge to wring his neck. "What is this?" he asked evenly, outlining the square again.
"A box. Dancing box. Box dance."
"No. What does it look like?" He started to outline it even more, causing the paper to tear.
Davis squinted at it and cocked his head. "A step!" he announced. "Ooh…dance step!"
"No. If it was dance step I would have drawn stairs!"
"Matt, you're really not supposed to talk when you draw. That's kind of against the rules."
Matt glared forcefully at the younger boy and grinded his teeth together. Then he drew a square next to his other picture and at Davis's frown also drew a circle and a triangle. The frown deepened and he crossed them both out.
"Are you sure that it's not a dance step?"
Something seemed to snap inside of Matt, and he launched his pencil and paper at Davis's head.
"It's square dance!" he shouted, flinging the dice and the timer. "Do you see this?" He jabbed his finger at the mutilated paper that now lay by a stunned Davis. "This is a fucking square! Not a box, not a step, a square!"
The brunette opened his mouth and closed it a few times, struggling for words. "Oh," he muttered finally. "I guess I can see it."
"You guess? That's it! I refuse to play this anymore! If you cannot even distinguish a square then I want nothing to do with you! You are a disgrace to humanity!"
"Fine."
"Fine."
With that, Matt stomped off to his room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Davis to sigh and wonder exactly what just transpired.
* * * * *
"When I went to sleep last night, you two were fine. Now, today I come home and you hate each other," Mr. Ishida said with a sigh, fingering his spoon. "What happened?"
The two in question glared vehemently at each other.
"I don't know," said Davis. "I think Matt's PMSing. One minute he was drawing a dance step. The next he was tripping out and telling me that I was a disgrace to humanity."
"Dammit, Davis! How many times do I have to tell you? It wasn't a dance step; it was a square dance!"
"Okay! Let's not kill each other," the older man said, holding his arms between them. "I'm tired. I have a headache. And I don't want to listen to you yell at each other. So you will make up now."
They both scowled, shrugged, and looked away.
"I believe I said now."
Davis glowered at the boy across from him. "Fine. I'm sorry. It was a square. I didn't get it. I'm stupid."
"Yes, you are."
"Matt."
Matt sighed and met Davis's eye. "I'm sorry, too. I overreacted. I shouldn't have expected you to get that it was a square dance. I probably wouldn't."
"Good," said Mr. Ishida. "Now, I'm going to lay down. I can trust you two to not strangle each other, right?"
"Yes, dad," they both replied, and Matt's father strode out of the room.
Silence enveloped the room. Matt frowned at the dirty dishes on the table. Davis knitted his brows as he gazed at his hand.
"I really didn't mean to piss you off," Davis said after a while.
"I know."
"I'm sure that I'll get better at guessing before the end of the week."
Matt froze and glanced up. "Excuse me? You say that like you intend for us to play again sometime soon."
"Well…yeah."
"I don't think so."
"What?" Davis widened his eyes and pouted. "Why not?"
"I really don't think I need to answer that."
"I had fun."
"Fun?" Matt asked incredulously. "We fought throughout the whole game, and you had fun."
"Yes." He bit his lip and looked down. "I enjoy fighting with you."
"Davis, you are an odd little elf. You know that, right?"
"So I've been told." Davis smiled suddenly, meeting Matt's gaze once again. "So does that mean that we can play again?"
"No."
"Fine. Then I'll be calling Tai first thing in the morning. I have some…interesting things to share with him."
"Dammit, Davis! If you say one word, I swear to God-"
"Promises, promises. You're playing. You don't get a say in it."
Matt sighed. "I hate you. I really do."
"Sometimes, Ishida, I swear that your sweet words could charm the dew right off a honeysuckle."