*hides in corner nonchalantly as if it hasn't been almost a year since this was last updated and as if I had more to show for it than this angst-ridden, slapdash chapter* It's unfortunate how hard it is to separate real life and writing sometimes. As a warning, there is some content that is pushing the envelope in terms of sexual rating in this chapter, but it is not super explicit.

XxXxXxXxXx

Yamato waited until Taichi had turned the corner and was out of sight before letting out a breath he'd been holding and smashing his face into the palm of his hand.

What the hell were you just thinking Yamato?

In that second, in just that moment when he was facing Taichi, something fantastical, something delusional, something dream-like had taken hold of Yamato.

He'd thought that maybe he should just reach out. Grab the other's jaw, lean forward, and kiss the brunet.

Like some kind of damn couple.

He dug his fingers into his scalp and shook his head back and forth.

Of course, this was just evidence that he'd let his unhealthy obsession grow into an unhealthy delusion.

Just evidence that he'd gotten so used to being around Taichi like this that he was imagining having Taichi around forever.

That maybe he'd be greeted with that smile every morning.

Yamato's head drooped unsteadily. He was emotionally exhausted.

Crawling onto the sidewalk was starting to seem awfully appealing, but he steadied his feet and trudged onwards to his dorm room.

The weight of each lie he'd told over the past years was pressing down on back, and the secrets that he held deep inside were threatening to slip out through the growing cracks that seemed to appear all over his body.

This wasn't the serendipitous, disillusioned world of a teenage Yamato Ishida. This was reality. And it came crashing down around Yamato like a broken dam.

Taichi has a girlfriend. A girlfriend he likes a lot, maybe even loves.

The words were like knives against his heart, and he purposefully dug them in as deep as possible.

Another few steps forward.

His entire being ached.

Maybe they would get married one day.

Visions of a tuxedo-clad Taichi, a bright smile, a glowing wedding dress, chiming laughter, clinking glasses momentarily enveloped his mind.

Yamato, on the other hand, was resigned to the fate of the best man (and that was only in the slight chance scenario that he wouldn't fuck up their friendship irreparably before then). Best man was a role he decidedly didn't deserve, not in a million lifetimes, and despite knowing how lucky he would be, he couldn't help resenting it.

The ugly voice, which had been lying dormant for a while now, decided to rear its head again.

This was why you were never supposed to let him know you were gay. This is why you were supposed to stay as far away from him as possible. Is the situation any better now than it was before?

He hated to admit it, but the voice had a point.

This sensation he'd gotten over the past few weeks- that Taichi might be around forever, that they could do this- fight together, joke together, relax together- endlessly, was addicting. It wrapped Yamato up in a thin bubble of hope and childhood memories and fantasy. And the bubble had only strengthened after Taichi seemed to be completely okay with the fact that Yamato was gay.

But Yamato was terribly, horribly, far gone. It wiped his mind of the ability to think rationally. From remembering that he was expecting the impossible out of poor, unaware, straight Taichi.

If he could time travel, would he tell his younger self to stay away from Taichi, the one who would turn his world on edge?

Yamato's stomach churned.

No, a life without Taichi would have been so bland, so displaced. Like a night sky without a moon, or a tree without leaves, or maybe a guitar with a missing string.

Besides, that idiot wouldn't have allowed it regardless of Yamato's wishes. Their lives had been inescapably intertwined since the moment they became the Digidestined.

It couldn't be too late though to un-twine them, right, just a little? To save his sanity?

He stared at the door in front of him and marveled at the fact that his feet had somehow found their way back to his dorm without any help from a functional brain. The body was an amazing thing.

He didn't trust his memory, not tonight, and so the first thing he did after he stumbled through the door was grab the nearest piece of paper and a pen. He'd developed this habit after many years of musical inspiration striking at the most inconvenient times.

This time though, instead of lyrics, a simple note was jotted down as a reminder for a sober, hungover Yamato:

Distance really is best.

XxXxXxXxXxX

A little over a mile away from Yamato's place, Taichi shut the door behind him and kicked his shoes off haphazardly before wobbling over to the couch and collapsing into it.

Before sleep could overcome him, he pulled out his cell phone and stared at it warily.

3 texts. He skipped over the one from Hikari and opened the ones from Carla.

Love you and can't wait to finally see you soon! I'm getting so homesick.

Gonna head to sleep - hope you're having fun out! You better not be drinking too much though :/

His fingers fumbled out a quick 'good night and love you too baby' before he dropped the phone next to him and let out a deep sigh. He sunk back into the couch and covered his eyes with an arm.

When he shut his eyes, a fresh image of Yamato with slightly-parted, too-pink lips appeared; his open, vulnerable eyes swimming with signs of intoxication and something else Taichi couldn't place. A 'thank you', spoken so softly and so earnestly, rung gently in his ears.

What the hell is wrong with my brain? He rubbed his eyes but the Yamato image may as well have been tattooed into the back of his eyelids for all the good that did.

It was just Yamato, his childhood friend, for fuck's sake-

Taichi let out a slow whistle of air.

It was nothing. It had to be nothing.

It was just the alcohol messing with him. Maybe someone had spiked his drink; it was a sleazy club, after all.

He would go to sleep and, god willing, forget everything that happened. And he would hope with all his heart that Yamato had been too drunk to notice anything amiss.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

Taichi found himself knocking on Yamato's door again, though he had no idea why or when he had walked over. Maybe it was the morning.

There was no answer.

But there was someone there, evidenced by the faint noises within, muffled by the door.

As if there was something guiding him, he placed his hand on the door knob and turned. He somehow had known that he would just walk in, but was wholly unprepared for the sight awaiting him.

Yamato was leaning forward over someone else on the couch, the stretching muscles in his back were clearly visible, Taichi realized, because of the lack of clothes. The other man was somewhat shrouded, but hair and half-face clicked together to register that it was that guy from earlier (Yuno was his name?).

Taichi willed himself to retreat, getting the feeling (for the second time in recent memory) that he had witnessed something he shouldn't have, but his nerves must have misinterpreted the message as his stiff legs took another step forward.

In that step forward, Yuno had turned around at him, grey eyes sending that same look of triumph. A foreign emotion pooled at the bottom of Taichi's stomach, and he couldn't help but return a glare.

Yamato looked up at him, and brown eyes locked with hazy, blue ones and suddenly Taichi's perception was jumbled and he had replaced Yuno on the couch. Not just his spot, but everything, including the lack of clothes.

Yuno was gone and there was less than a paper's distance between Yamato's unwavering hand and Taichi's tanned thighs and somehow, ridiculously, the world hadn't come to a stop.

Taichi looked up and a knowing expression was painted onto the other's face, blue eyes burning and pink lips quirked upward in a confident smile.

Taichi didn't think he'd ever seen a sight more breathtaking- in reality or dream. His heart, which had started beating uncomfortably from the moment he'd seen Yamato on the couch, was now hammering wildly against his rib cage.

And as this different Yamato lowered his head slowly, achingly slowly, between Taichi's legs, there were somehow no questions. Potential ramifications and feelings of wrongness had buried themselves so deep in a corner of the room that they were mostly forgotten.

Yamato's mouth enclosed around him, and somewhere in a lucid and drunken dream-state of lust and confusion, Taichi was powerless to do anything but let the fantasy continue. His voice had gotten caught in an endless maze in his throat. His actions already predicted by a subconscious he had no control over.

Heavy breaths ensued, blond hair stuck to pale skin, lips that were too wet, a tongue that was too talented, a humming sound so dangerous it could break him-

There were hands everywhere, palms slicked with sweat, light touches on inner thighs, and before he could stop himself, fingers tugging on silky hair-

And a familiar wonderful feeling, swelling up inside of him, threatening to overwhelm his insides-

It wasn't until the deed was done, until his head was thrown back against the couch that he had fallen asleep on, until Taichi had jolted awake and come down from his high and his pulse had steadied, that the full significance of what had just occurred slammed into him at full force.

He shot up so fast that the blood pounded in his ears as it attempted to catch up.

What. The. Fuck.

He made it to the bathroom, vision still spinning, and splashed his face with cold water before gripping the edges of the sink. His reflection automatically came into view.

To put it bluntly, Taichi looked like shit. His eyes were bloodshot, in sharp contrast to the lack of color in the rest of his face. He looked the way he felt, raw and violated by foreign sensations.

Carla's words from last week drifted into his head again, "Taichi, are you okay? You seem… different lately."

At the thought of Carla, Taichi felt even more pathetic. Taichi could be described in many ways, but disloyal was not one of them. He would never dream of cheating on his sweet girlfriend.

Wait – cheating? That wasn't even close to it. A dream… that's all it was, just a dream. Even the word dream didn't feel right, because that implied that it was something he desired.

Taichi attempted to reason with his reflection.

Guys have wet dreams all the time. They don't necessarily mean anything at all. Half the time we can't even help who they're about.

It was true; Taichi recalled a wet dream about a snooty, strict-faced teacher in high school that he absolutely detested.

"If that was the case, though," his reflection scoffed at him. "Then why is it that you feel so guilty?"

That answer came to his lips easily: It's because it's Yamato.

A shiver made its way down his arms. How could he face Yamato normally after that dream? What would the other Chosen children, mostly adults now, think of him if they knew what he had been thinking? What would Yamato think?

When his musings went to Yamato this time, it wasn't the image of the sexy, stretched out blond from the dream that came to mind. Instead, it was his two soccer teammates, hunched over in the corner of the locker room, mouthing their vile and inappropriate perceptions of his best friend.

A horrifying notion inundated him. Does that make me like them?

Disgust from the thought mixed uneasily with the toxins pent up in his stomach from hours of drinking as Taichi immediately hurled into the toilet next to him.

The vomiting of his stomach's contents, though repulsive, did help to finally clear his thoughts. He felt equal parts shitty and equal parts appeased, a strange combination of emotions that only puking after a night of inebriation could make you feel.

After an unknown amount of time on the bathroom floor, Taichi got up shakily and was able to make his way back to the living room. He knew he needed to talk to someone, before his thoughts could continue to compound on each other and morph into something insurmountable. He had to sort this out tonight, before facing Yamato again.

He retrieved the phone from the couch and looked through his list of speed dials.

This was exactly the kind of thing he could normally phone Yamato about, and was frustrated that he couldn't, for obvious reasons. Yamato had been the only person who was able to coax him out of his anxious wrath when he'd found out through a misplaced negative pregnancy test that his little sister was sexually active ('you are familiar with the term hypocritical right?' Yamato had joked).

His fingers finally found themselves hovering over another name and he chuckled to himself hollowly.

Well, they do say that desperate times call for desperate measures.

Ring, ring, ring.

Taichi was tempted to hang it up, but before he got a chance he heard a click.

I guess there's no backing out now.

"Hi Taii~~" came a familiarly loud and singsongy voice through the phone.

Despite his current state, Taichi couldn't help but smile as he heard it, even as he pulled the receiver slightly farther away from his ear.

"Hey Mimi, how's it going?"

"I'm great!" Taichi pictured her kicking her legs against her flowery pink king-sized bed. "And what about you?"

"I'm… okay." Taichi responded, well aware that his tone didn't sound very okay at all.

"Sooo? To what do I owe this pleasure? Is this a drunk dial? Or am I supposed to believe that you called me at 4am your time just to tell me how much you missed me? We just saw each other last month you know!"

Right, just a month ago things had been so different. Last month, Taichi had resolved to give up on one-night stands. Last month, Taichi had been so happy that Yamato had finally gotten a girlfriend.

Taichi sighed emphatically. "Well Mimi, as much as I missed you," (and really, he had) "I called because… well… I think I might have a problem."

"Taichi Yagami has a problem?" Mimi's voice was definitely laced with curiosity. "What could it be?"

Unfortunately, her question was only met with silence.

"Um… Taichi?"

"Uhh…" Damn, I didn't think through how I was going to say this.

He somehow felt like 'Hey, so I have a girlfriend who I like a lot but I also just woke up to a dream about my childhood friend's mouth around my cock and I think I liked that too' might be taken the wrong way by Mimi.

And by that, he meant that Mimi would probably love it and that wouldn't lead to anything good.

"Well," Mimi started for him, "Judging by your reaction, it's something really big."

I guess that's true. Taichi nodded into the phone, though the action was essentially meaningless.

"Okay then… If you're looking for someone to help you hide a dead body, I just got my nails done so I'm not sure I can help… hmm, BUT maybe Jyou could do it though, he's probably used to dead bodies from medical school…"

Mimi was apparently willing to ramble on for as long as necessary until Taichi was finally ready to talk about what he really wanted to. It was oddly calming, in a low-pressure kind of way only Mimi could achieve.

When Taichi tuned back in, she had started to theorize what role each of the Chosen Children could play in helping to cover up Taichi's supposed crime.

Mimi was halfway done discussing how Hikari would seduce the police officer when Taichi finally felt ready to cut her off. "No, no, Mimi, it's not that. I didn't murder anyone. Obviously." Although, it almost feels like that would be preferable to the real situation.

Mimi huffed. "Okay, then tell me. What's wrong?"

"It's actually…" The line went quiet for a few more seconds. Just tell her already- Mimi's not one to judge. That's why you called her. The two of them had had more sensitive conversations in the past two years than Taichi cared to count.

"It actually… has to do with Yamato."

A muffled intake of breath could barely be heard.

"Oh."

There was a hint of something in Mimi's "oh" that Taichi couldn't quite place, but he didn't like it.

"Actually, wait," Taichi backtracked desperately. "Let's pretend I didn't say anything just now."

"Okay…?"

"Let's just say, in purely hypothetical terms-" Taichi emphasized. "Is it normal for a gay guy to invite his straight friend out to gay bars with him?"

Taichi could practically hear Mimi's head whirring at the newfound secret Taichi had just unintentionally disclosed to her. But, to her credit, she kept any questions or comments she had to herself.

"Well… I don't think there's anything wrong with that." Mimi answered after thinking for a second.

"Okay then… is it normal for straight guys to enjoy going to gay bars? Wait actually, it's not that the straight friend enjoys going to gay bars, but more that they just enjoy being with their gay friend a lot – is that normal?"

Taichi could almost hear Mimi shrugging. "I guess I don't get what's wrong about it. The straight friend could enjoy themselves around the other person whether they were gay or not. I don't see why it's a big deal that the friend is gay."

"Exactly! It shouldn't matter whether the friend is gay or not, right? He's the same guy he's ever been…"

"Uh.. right…?"

"So then, why is it that suddenly he seems so different? Or rather… things seem so different?" Taichi realized he probably wasn't making very much sense anymore, and also that he had dropped the hypothetical terms.

Unbeknownst to him, a few things had connected in Mimi's mind. Snuggled up in her pink bathrobe, she was privately thinking, Do I really have to spell it out for this idiot? Yes, probably.

"Different how, Tai?"

"Well… this straight friend enjoys spending time with his gay friend, that's the same as always." Taichi struggled to get his next words out. "But now sometimes the straight friend catches himself staring at his best friend. Like little things he does are interesting… or even fascinating." Maybe that was the alcohol talking a bit.

"Ok… so you tell me, Taichi." There was a touch of exasperation over the line. "Why would a straight guy be fascinated by the way another guy looks or acts?"

"Well… maybe he just… has an appreciation for something, or someone, that is aesthetically pleasing?"

This time, Taichi was sure of it – Mimi was definitely stifling a laugh.

Taichi narrowed his eyes. How could this be funny to her? This has been plaguing him for several weeks now!

"What's so funny?"

Mimi must have realized she was quickly approaching a danger zone, because her voice sounded a bit more serious when she said, "Oh it's not that. I- It's just weird hearing you unsure of yourself. I didn't even know that was possible. You are our fearless leader after all."

Taichi pondered this for a second.

It was true that he didn't often ask for advice about his own personal life. He was also aware that he came off as fearless sometimes, but that was mainly when it came to helping his friends.

But, the thought of ending his friendship with Yamato shook Taichi to his core more than the thought of having to face off against a hundred Bakumon by himself. He certainly didn't feel all too fearless at the moment.

"Well," Mimi's voice came out thoughtfully, and somewhat carefully. "…There is one potential answer that could make all the pieces fit together. Maybe you…er, I mean, 'your straight friend' isn't so str-"

There was a large crash in the background followed by a loud meow. "Ah, crap!" Taichi heard Mimi shout.

There was a brief silence before she added breathlessly, "Tai, I'm soooo sorry to leave you but I'm going to have to hang up. Duchess just knocked over a vase and there's glass everywhere and -ouch- I think I just cut myself."

Concern flashed into Taichi's mind at the thought of his injured friend, though it was almost surpassed by the concern that he still hadn't gotten Mimi's advice. "But Mimi-"

"Don't worry, Tai, I have faith that you can figure things out. Just try and… open your mind a bit. But call me before you do anything stupid!"

And with those last cryptic words, the line went dead before Taichi could even say thanks, or let Mimi know how to safely handle broken glass, or- most importantly- ask her to elaborate.

Taichi dropped the now useless cell phone to the coffee table as he slumped into the dorm couch. That damn cat.

Apprehension enveloped his intestines, and seeped outwards to every organ in his body.

If he were being perfectly honest with himself, he knew exactly what Mimi's words were going to be before they cut off. In fact, the words rang so clearly in his head that it was like Mimi was right next to him merrily giggling them it into his ear.

Perhaps that was because they were the same words that had been lurking under the surface all along.

"Maybe your straight friend isn't so straight after all."

Well, this would complicate things.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Taichi's eye twitched, an unmistakable air of exasperation blanketing him.

Yamato was ignoring him – Taichi was sure of it.

If it hadn't already been obvious from the unanswered texts, this was the last straw. He stared sourly at the empty seat next to him in their joint psychology class. It was strangely reminiscent of the time the blond had abruptly started ignoring him their freshman year.

Taichi wracked his brains. Did I mess something up Saturday night subconsciously?

Aside from that dream (which Yamato couldn't possibly know about), Taichi had thought that he'd acted fairly normally all night. There were suspicious gaps of blackness in his memory… and there was that blurry spat with Yuno, but it had all seemed resolved when the two friends had said their goodbyes.

Taichi couldn't deny the tiny bubbles of relief popping inside him upon seeing Yamato's empty desk. After all, he'd almost been debating skipping class himself.

He was not looking forward to the emotions (nervousness? shame? happiness?) he would undoubtedly have in Yamato's presence because of his own confused feelings from Saturday night. But he had spent all Sunday resolving himself to behave normally around Yamato, and now that was all a waste.

Is it possible that Yamato had gotten a sense of what Taichi had been struggling with on Saturday night and he was bothered by it enough to decide to ignore Taichi?

Ugh, if I can't even see him, how am I supposed to know what he's thinking?! A frustrated Taichi thought, slamming his fist down at his desk, much to the fright of the students surrounding him.

The teacher looked away from his lecture notes and shifted his beady eyes to the brunet. "Taichi-"

Taichi swallowed. He must have gotten too caught up in his thoughts again.

"Is there something about Pavlov's theory that makes you extremely angry?" There were a few snickers around the class.

"Er.." What was Pavlov's theory again? Oh right… "No sir, it just reminded me of this… dog I really missed." The snickers in the room amplified while he fought down the urge to cringe. Not your best excuse, Taichi...

"Alright, well try to keep your emotions in check next time," the teacher deadpanned in response, clearly not believing him.

"Yes, sir."

XxXxXxXxXx

Yamato was crouched behind a plant, his shoulder against the cool stone of the pot, and one knee pressing uncomfortably onto the tile floor – feeling quite ridiculous.

It was just Taichi, his best friend, for god's sake-

Sometimes, Yamato thought that Taichi must have picked up, or been born with, the intuition of a Digimon. What else could explain how Taichi had happened to walk into the same bookstore that Yamato had been seeking refuge in, when the brunet was supposed to be in science class?

And why was Yamato avoiding him again? Ah, right, because the last month proved what he'd kind of known since freshman year- that he couldn't just be best friends with Taichi and also be in unrequited love with Taichi, that the line was too thin and too fragile, much like his own state of mind.

"Trouble in paradise?" came a sudden low whisper in his ear, breaking him out of his morbid thoughts.

Yamato nearly jumped out of his skin.

"Jesus – Kyo, are you trying to kill me?" Yamato clutched his chest. And after he calmed down a bit, "And, yes a bit, how did you know?"

"Well, Taichi was walking around looking like he wanted to give someone a piece of his mind, or his foot. What else was I supposed to infer from that and the fact that you were trying to disguise yourself as a plant?" Kyo looked at him with a vague air of disappointment. "Which, might I add, is a very poor disguise."

"I didn't have a lot of time to hide, okay…" Yamato defended, searching the premises for a certain brown-haired boy.

"I mean, how many good-looking, blond plants do you know of?" Kyo said dramatically, leaning against the tall pot.

Yamato paused his search, unamused. "Are you trying to butter me up right now?"

"Well, I do have a favor to ask of you."

XxXxXxXxX

Taichi walked quickly to the exit of the student center. Call it his Yamato-sixth-sense or whatever, but he had felt so sure that the temperamental blond was around here.

With all the students around, he'd quickly realized it would be near impossible to find someone who didn't want to be found, and decided he'd give Yamato the win – for now (don't ask him why this had turned into a competition of sorts).

Sulking in his defeat, he sent one last text to Yamato. "Hey baka…"

To his surprise, the phone rang loudly in his hand a moment later.

"Finally!" Taichi all but growled, bringing the phone to his ear. "What do you-"

"Uhh... Taichi?" A light voice came through the line.

Taichi's mouth shut, words still frozen on his lips. He could've slapped himself in the face. "…Carla?"

"I don't know if you got my texts- anyway, I'm back from the trip!"