Rebuilding the Bridge

Kiss and make up

Or something along those lines

Takeru walked on Hikari's right, and Daisuke on Hikari's left.
Things were like that; they had been like that, they would stay like that.
But—"Hikari, is something wrong with Taichi?"

"Why would you say that?" Hikari asked.

"Because," Takeru said, frowning as he pulled his thoughts together.
"Taichi kept looking at me strangely…"

Hikari laughed good-naturedly. "You look a lot like your brother."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

She speaks: And think, I almost gave you a chapter of all that boring filler stuff. Thank God I couldn't think of anything to write.
Forgive me for the shortness of the chapters.

To touch; Yamato had only ever dreamed of touching Taichi like this. In fact, it was exactly like the dreams he often had, when suddenly they were touching each other so harsh and needy that Yamato's skin burned where Taichi touched him—his arms where Taichi had grabbed him, his lips where Taichi kissed him, and his neck where Taichi was biting and licking him. His own hands roamed over Taichi's body, down his arms and up his shirt, needing more and more of Taichi to verify the reality.

How many girls—or boys—did Taichi ever kiss like this? Yamato himself had a few girls in his time, but the way Taichi led them to his room without breaking contact seemed expert, though Yamato had pulled away only for an instant to inform Taichi of his horrendous breath. Then they were at it again, and soon Taichi was shirtless beneath Yamato on his own bed, the blond's fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers. Taichi giggled, breathless as Yamato's mouth toyed with the sensitive skin along his neck, as Yamato's lengthy blond hair tickled his chest, as Yamato's fingertips brushed lightly against his pelvis.

It was then that the phone rang.

"Ignore it," Yamato murmured against Taichi's skin. He rubbed his nose against the smooth flesh as he inhaled deeply; the smell alone was driving him insane.

"I can't," Taichi said, ruining the moment by tugging Yamato's hair and pushing him away. "It could be Hikari."

Yamato sighed, pushing a hand through his hair as Taichi padded out of the room. The interruption was an annoyance. Yamato had come to the Yagami house on few occasions, and not since junior high. They hadn't talked since they started high school, and hadn't held hands since their crazy adventures in the Digital World six years ago. And god, how he had missed him.

"… I'll be there right away." Taichi hung up the cordless phone, tossing it to the side as he entered his room. There was a frantic air around him as he hurriedly pulled on a pair of jeans he had lying on the floor. His fingers worked the buckle of the belt clumsily.

"What's going on?" Yamato asked him, sitting up sharply.

"We've got to go." Taichi bent to the ground in search of a shirt. Snatching his jersey off the ground, he pulled it over his head. "Brush your hair or something; you look terrible."

Yamato frowned. "You didn't answer my question, Taichi."

"Just do it, alright?" Taichi snapped. He huffed through his nose, and then sighed deeply. "It was the police station."

"What? Why?"

"I don't know, but Hikari and Takeru are there, Daisuke too." Taichi found a brush and tossed it over to Yamato. "So we're going. You've got a car right?"

Yamato watched Taichi as the boy disappeared into the bathroom, and listened to the sounds of running water and gurgling mouthwash. "I'll get it started," he called, grabbing the brush. "Oh, and Taichi?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't forgive you." The mouthwash gurgling silenced. After a few seconds, the water followed. Taichi reappeared in the hallway, his face a tough mask.

"Then don't kiss me," he muttered. He brushed past Yamato, his cheeks red with embarrassment. Yamato reached out, but the other boy flinched away.

Yamato quickly realized that he had said the wrong thing. "I didn't mean it that way! I meant—" Yamato grabbed Taichi's hand and held it tightly in his own, entwining their fingers. "I mean, there's nothing to apologize for. I like this. I want it. I—can I keep you?"

And then he stared at Taichi, into Taichi's eyes. Into Taichi's soul. He had to make him understand what he meant; Taichi had always needed help with that.

Ding dong, ding dong…

They both jumped a little as the clock struck, breaking eye contact in the process. They stood silent until the clock finished tolling twelve times. "We really should get going, Yama."

(tbc)