Author's Notes:
Hooray! Jyoushiro! All right, here's your warning. This is yaoi, which means boy with boy, so if that ain't your style, move on out, okay?
All right, I'd like to say that even to this day, the couple I am most supportive of is Taito (Tai and Matt), and although I have a Taito fiction, it was written several years ago and needs serious updating, so it may be a while. However, Jyoushiro (Joe and Izzy) is another pairing I'm into, and is an often neglected one, as well. This one only took me about five hours to write up, I was so inspired.
This is also my first fiction with something other than just romance in it. It actually has a touch of action. Whoo! Okay, so it's not that exciting, but still… Since there is violence, I've rated it somewhat higher as well.
If you need a bit of background here, Joe is twenty and Izzy is eighteen, and they have both moved to America to attend a college in Maine together. Any more would spoil things, so I guess I'll let you get to it.
Enjoy…
Chapter One
"Izzy, are we out of milk?" Joe inquired, slamming the refrigerator shut with a huff. Izzy, seated at the kitchen table,–well, it was really only a cheap card table–barely glanced up from his computer.
"Yeah, I used the last of it this morning."
Joe frowned, feeling the first edges of irritation steal over him. Izzy looked up, his own face taking on a sour look, as though he suspected what was coming. "Izzy, you know I always have milk with my lunch after class. Why didn't you leave some?"
"I didn't think to. Sorry." Izzy didn't sound to sorry, and truthfully, he wasn't. Joe's uppity attitude really got on his nerves sometimes.
"Why didn't you buy more?"
"I've been busy all day. And I'm still busy. Would you please leave me alone about it?"
"What, do you think you're the only one with homework to do? I have a twenty-page report due Monday. I don't have any more extra time than you."
Izzy snapped the computer shut with a tight click, true anger etched on his face. "Fine," he said through thin lips, "I'll go pick some up right now. Just to get away from you."
Izzy, even as he stormed out of the kitchen and into his own bedroom, began to feel the first pangs of regret. Joe stood by the counter, his hand still on the refrigerator door, and sat down heavily at the table, listening to the sounds of Izzy putting his shoes on and grabbing his keys in the other room.
This was the third discussion-gone-bad they had had in just the two weeks since they had taken the apartment and become roommates. Joe didn't quite know how to handle the situation. He was used to order and responsibility, not flakiness. Izzy was so intelligent, but so flighty, and Joe had wondered more than once how all of their plans would work out if this was how things were already ending up.
But Joe's own sense of reliability–infamous, infamous, just like Izzy's knowledge–told him not to give up on the future or the friendship. He stood, stopping a rancorous Izzy as he exited his room. "I'm sorry, Izzy. I'll go with you."
Izzy immediately slumped back, touches of ruefulness hitting his own face, "I'm sorry, too, Joe." He jingled his keys and half-smiled, "How about this? After we pick up the milk, I'll treat for ice cream to make it up. Sound good?"
Joe felt the first twinges of a blush traveling to his face, and adjusted his glasses, embarrassed. Izzy's kind streak always brought this sort of reaction out of him, and he suspected that if he took a closer look at the reason for it, he'd wind up with more problems than he could manage.
Joe coughed, and noticed a small, strange smile on Izzy's face. He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder, answering with a careful, casual, "Sounds great. Let's go."
"Dirty deeds, done dirt cheap! Dirty deeds and they're done dirt–" The screeching voice was cut off abruptly when Joe reached over and jabbed at the dial, shuddering. Izzy laughed a little, glad of it. Neither of them cared much for AC/DC. Izzy, shooting a corner-of-the-eye glance at Joe, cautioned to say, "We have so much in common, Joe. I don't understand why we're fighting so much." Joe didn't answer, just peered out the window as Izzy put the car in gear and backed them out. It was starting to sprinkle lightly. Izzy concentrated on driving.
The place they were headed to was called Casey's Corner. It was a pretty dinky little grocery shop, but both Joe and Izzy had taken to it for its quaintness and the lowest prices they could find in Bangor, Maine–a must for the college students. The owner–Casey, in fact–was usually manning the cash register, which added to its charm.
Izzy turned on his wipers as well as his thoughts, which as usual, drifted over to Joe right off. He hadn't wanted the start of it all to go badly, but Joe could be so nitpicky. Not that Izzy hadn't known that prior to moving in with him. They had been friends for eight years now, and had only grown closer, especially in high school, when Izzy's high marks had him moved into some of Joe's classes.
Maybe it was something about America that had them bickering... Being so far away from family and on their own for the first time, that was difficult enough. And Izzy had to deal with...well, he had other things to deal with as well. Izzy shot another glance to his right–at the sullen Joe–and felt the teensy hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. He shook his head, and, realizing they had reached their destination, parked the car.
As he pulled the keys from the ignition, Izzy hesitated, and Joe watched him. "I'm sorry nothing's been working out, Joe." He couldn't think of much more to say than that. The rain splattered lightly onto the roof and windshield. Izzy turned to Joe, who was studying him with dark eyes.
Slowly, he reached a hand out and ran two fingers down Izzy's sleeve, taking great interest in the way Izzy's cheeks went pink. Could it be...? He pulled his hand away. "Hey," he spoke, adjusting his glasses once more, "We'll work it out. Don't worry." And with that, he left the car, and Izzy, who moved quickly to catch up, began to ponder on the fact that neither he nor Joe had dated a girl since–well, since Izzy was a sophomore–two years before. A double date Mimi had set them up on that had gone wrong in so many ways. Izzy could only remember that the girls were both airheads and that the entire evening felt amiss for reasons he couldn't begin to admit.
Izzy hung his head as they splashed through puddles to the store's entrance, but finally couldn't keep his eyes to himself. He laid them upon Joe's back, suddenly feeling his problem coming to a head...
