Hiya! I found a website called 'the phobialist' last night and I thought some of them looked funky. But 'xyrophobia' (fear of razors) caught my eye, so I decided to write a fic about it. So, here you go- Tala is xyrophobic, and Bryan wants to know why:


Tala walked into the bathroom and walked back out again. "Bryan, go and clean your junk off the counter."

"What junk? It's only my razor..."

"Exactly! So get it off the top!" Bryan looked up from his position sprawled on the bed. Tala was standing framed in the light of the doorway of the en-suite, arms akimbo, glaring. "What's so wrong about a razor?" Tala fastened the fly of his trousers, still glaring.

"Don't ask stupid questions, just move it! I want to get washed!" Snapped Tala, moving to let Bryan go into the bathroom. Bryan picked up the razor and looked at it. "I don't get it. What's wrong with the razor?" He held it out and Tala backed away. Bryan saw a flash of fear in his eyes and stared at the redhead, puzzled. "Tala? Are you scared of razors?" With an explosive sound of rage Tala stormed out, snatching his shirt up off the bed and slamming out of their hotel room.

Bryan put his razor away and then got dressed himself, wondering why Tala was scared of razors, of all things. He knew Tala didn't shave- he never seemed to grow hair anywhere except the top of his head, and- Bryan smiled- down below. He decided to go and find Tala, to apologize and ask him if he really -was- scared of razors. He spent at least an hour trekking through the hotel, asking people if they'd seen Tala. No-one had, and Bryan was beginning to worry, when he found Kai sneaking along the corridor with Rei.

"The location of my boyfriend buys my silence." He said jokingly. Kai almost died of shock, then turned.

"Very funny Bryan. He's in the gym if you must know, sulking about something. And if you see Tyson, we were never here!" Bryan nodded as he walked back the other way, following the signs to the gym.

However, when he got there, he noticed one immediate falsehood in what Kai had told him. Tala wasn't sulking, oh no. He was -raging-! He had let down one of the punchbags and was literally beating the stuffing out of it. "Tala..."

"Go away."

"Tala, I didn't mean to..."

"Didn't mean to what!" A particularly vicious swing made the ring in the ceiling shift, making a fine stream of plaster dust fall from the ceiling onto Tala's sweating brow.

"I didn't mean to upset you." Tala paused for a second.

"You could have just moved it. You didn't have to wave it at me."

"I didn't know you were scared of them-"

"I'm not scared of them! I just don't like them!"

"It's the same difference, Tala."

"No it's not!" Tala went back to pummelling the punchbag. Bryan approached him cautiously.

"Tala...why don't you like them?" Tala growled and swung both fists into the punchbag. With a creak, it fell, coating Tala in a shower of dust. He clenched his fists and swung round to face Bryan. "I just don't, okay! Stop asking, because I don't want to discuss it!" Bryan stepped closer and grabbed Tala's arm as he tried to walk off again.

"Tala, talk to me. What's the matter?"

"Let go of me, Bryan! I don't want to talk about it!"

"Well I do! Why can't you just talk to me? You're being totally irrational!"

"Irrational? IRRATIONAL? Tell me Bryan, when was the last time you saw someone slit their wrists with a razor? Or, more correctly, when did you last see your MOTHER slitting her wrists with a razor!"

"What?"

"YOU HEARD!" Tala tried to pull away then burst into tears, throwing himself against Bryan, who promptly wound his arms around the sobbing redhead. "You might never have known your mother, Bryan, but you didn't have to watch her..." Tala slammed a fist against Bryan's chest frustratedly. "You didn't have to watch her bleed to death because you were too young to know how to help her! I was -nine-, Bryan!"

"Oh Tala...I'm sorry..." Bryan held Tala tighter, stroking his back reassuringly.

"That's why I don't like razors! If I had a choice they wouldn't exist!"

"But if there weren't any razors, how would I shave? I'd have to grow a beard..."

"I'm serious, Bryan." Bryan smiled.

"So am I. Can you see me with a goatee?" Tala raised an eyebrow and looked at Bryan's face critically.

"No. You'd look like an idiot. Just don't EVER leave your razor out again, or else!"

"Or else what? Anyway, what do you mean I'd look like an idiot?"

Tala pulled himself out of Bryan's embrace and took hold of his chin, smirking. "You would look like you'd stuck lametta to yourself." Bryan shook his head, not understanding.

"Lametta?"

"You know, lametta, the strippy stuff they put on Christmas trees- thin, short, tinselly stuff?" Bryan raised his eyebrows then sniffed, sticking his nose in the air, feigning offence.

"I'm not talking to you now." Tala hung off his arm, laughing.

"Ah but you don't need to talk to kiss, and if you stay quiet it means I won't have to scrape my chin off on a beard, so I win anyway."

"You watch it or I'm going to shave off your hair while you're asleep." Tala face suddenly took on a serious expression.

"Bryan, don't make jokes about it. Don't."

"I'm sorry." Bryan pulled Tala back into his arms and stroked his cheek gently. "You know what? I love you Tala." Tala stretched up and kissed Bryan on the cheek. "Love you too. Come on, I need a shower..." He brushed some of the dust off his shoulders and started walking. When Bryan didn't follow, he turned. "Aren't you coming?"

"Huh? Can't you get back to the room by yourself?"

"Okay, one, you have the key. Two, you're dense. Three. If you come with me, I'll -share- the shower!" Bryan shrugged and followed him; it was impossible to deny logic like that.

fin


Hehe, Bryan with a beard is NOT a good idea...or at least I don't think it is. Although, I've never seen a man with a lavender-coloured beard before...could be quite cool...but I doubt it! Anyway, R&R, you're angels if you do!