David stared at the couch, his mouth actually agape. Jack. What the hell was Jack doing here? Why was he back? Why didn't he call him? Why was he sitting on his sister's couch as if he owned the place?

Well, David thought. For all you know, he could own the place.

For a moment, a fleeting moment, he felt bad to be holding Josh's hand. But he honestly couldn't explain to him—Josh, that is—why he would in the presence of Jack. Josh didn't know anything about Jack and vice versa.

He watched Jack get up off of the couch and saunter towards him. He still had that cock-sure walk of his that made his stomach dip.

"Davey," he said with a smirk. "You don't say 'hello'?"

Before he could react, Jack pulled him into a tight embrace. He felt the momentum yank his hand from Josh's but once he was enveloped in the smell of leather and something spicy, his mind clouded and he was back in high school, making out with Jack in hallways and having sex on his woefully outdated Digimon bed sheets. And he knew that it was a dangerous place to be.

He pulled himself from the hug and smiled at Jack.

"You look good, Jack," he said honestly. And he did. Somehow better than before.

"I feel better, Davey," he replied, leaning down to kiss his cheek.

David cast a wary glance at Josh who stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"Jack," he said quickly. "I'd like you to meet someone. Josh."

He beckoned Josh over and he kind of shuffled up, looking at Jack as though he had some rare, tropical disease.

"Jack, this is Josh. Josh, this is Jack," he said in a rushed tone.

"Pleased to meet you," Josh said, holding out his hand.

"Glad to know you got back from Blue Lagoon safely," Jack replied, the smirk evident on his face.

Josh had a confused look on his face. When it came to movies or music or, well, anything pop culture-related actually, Josh wasn't exactly well versed.

"It's a movie," David explained. "And he thinks you look like the guy from it."

"Oh, well, alright." Josh laughed and put down his still empty hand. Jack had never shaken it.

David had no idea what to do next. He cast a glance at Sarah who had, apparently, gotten craftier in their ten years apart and just smirked at him as if she were saying 'you've made your bed, now lie in it, little brother.'

Allen, though, bounced back into the living room with Liberace on his heels and grabbed Jack's hand.

"Jack, you gotta come play video games with me!" he squeaked.

Jack glanced at him, then at David and Josh and back at Allen.

"Alright. Let's do it, little man." He smiled at the bouncing ten-year-old and they disappeared into what was once Les and David's room.

Sarah went into her and Morris's room shortly after, claiming to have stuff to sort through in there and David found himself alone with Josh. Alone with Josh and a lot of explaining to do.

"Okay," he began. "I know I should have told you about him before but—"

"Jack is your ex-boyfriend," Josh filled in. "I pretty much gathered that."

"Yes," David said sheepishly. "But it's not just that. Jack is my only ex-boyfriend. The only guy I've really gotten…serious with. The only guy, that is, the only other guy I've…"

"Loved?"

He nodded. "Yeah. It's just, I didn't know he'd be here. I mean, I figured I'd see him at the reunion—maybe—but not here. I'm really sorry that got sprung on you like that."

Josh quieted him by putting a finger on his lips.

"David, it's alright," he assured. "Honestly, it was nice to meet him. He seems…okay. And, besides, it's not as if you still have feelings for him, right?" He laughed. "You're not going to run away with him, are you?"

David shook his head and forced out a laugh. "Of course not."

Josh pulled him into a hug and kissed the tops of his curls.

"Don't worry about it," he said, nuzzling him. "It's totally fine."

"Yeah…fine."

It didn't help, though, David thought. It didn't help that as he was in Josh's arms and after he said he didn't have feelings for Jack, he still had the feeling that had just lied out his ass.

--

Wart walked into the penthouse later that night, alone. Sometime during their hanging out, Jester had disappeared back home, leaving him with Star and Heck—whom Claudia had astutely dubbed 'the dumbass trio'—with whom he had nothing in common. He was going to come over to rip his brother a new one when he noticed something strange.

Though they no longer had to share a room—they had enough space to each have two bedrooms—they still did upon their own choosing. And right now, there was a flurry of clothes flying from their open door and music was blaring.

Wart neared the door, wondering what was going on. He looked at their couch where Ben and Nero were watching, it seemed some documentary about killer whales. Nero was staring at the screen in rapt fascination. He looked a bit like a little boy.

"Do you two know what's going on?" he asked.

Ben answered him since Nero seemed transfixed on the screen. "No. He just walked into his room and has been doing that for the past three hours. I'm getting a little scared myself."

Nero quieted him. "Shh! Bo Derek's about to get her leg bitten off!"

His voice had the giddy squeal of a child's as he watched their ridiculously oversized, plasma screen TV. Ben smiled and stroked his hair. Wart turned back to whatever his brother was doing and smelled the distinct smell something made when it was burning.

"Oh, God," he muttered and went into the room.

The song 'Route 66' was blaring from their Bose sound system but it didn't sound like the version Wart had heard prior nor the John Mayer remake. The singer had a kind of slurring, don't-give-a-fuck vibe to his voice that was familiar and yet alien at the same time.

He also noticed that his brother's entire wardrobe was lying on the parquet floor of the hall. All of his baseball caps, denim jackets, bought-ripped jeans and sold colored t-shirts lay in a heap on the floor. Jester, meanwhile, was currently perched on his bed, running a flat iron through his hair.

"Well," he said under his breath, grateful that it wasn't anything serious. "That explained the burning smell."

With purpose he didn't normally have—of course, when dealing with Jester, it was always good to have some form of confidence—he strode over to the stereo and flicked it off.

"Do you mind?" Jester asked crossly.

"Do you?" he shot back. "What are you doing? Does mom know? Lucy will kill you when she sees the mess she'll have to clean up!"

Lucy was their maid and always coddled them from when they were younger but she hated having to pick up messes they—well, Jester—left purposely.

"No, mom doesn't know and Lucy's not going to care 'cause I'm putting them all in bags." Jester ran the flat iron through another strip of his wavy hair.

"Well, what are you doing then?" Wart demanded. "If this is some other, crazy scheme or…something…count me out. You're being all ridiculous again."

Jester set down the flat iron, looked in the mirror and rolled his eyes at him.

"I don't need your help, dearest brother," he said in a matter-of-fact voice. "And besides, if you're going to throw a bitchfit, I wouldn't want your help anyway. Now can you turn my music back on?"

Wart gave an exasperated sigh and plopped onto his own bed.

"Hester," he said simply. "Just tell me what you're doing."

"Fine."

Jester turned off the flat iron, apparently happy with the now-straightness of his hair. Exempting the large nose and undiscerning eyes, he kind of looked like Pickle.

"Well, I was talking with Heck and Star tonight, as you know," he explained.

"I tuned out most of what you were all saying," Wart admitted. "But, yeah."

He suddenly wished he hadn't, having no idea what his brother had gotten up to.

"Well, I had this amazing brainstorm while they were arguing about who stole that tie thing, John or Mike. Heck was winning, last I checked. Anyway, real trivial stuff. So I just got this idea—and my black Amex."

He pointed to a corner where a brand new guitar stood, leaning up against the wall by their open, closet door. He also pointed to the ridiculous amount of shopping bags piled near it.

"I don't get it," Wart said. "I don't get it and I don't like it."

"Stop worrying so much, Corbin." He rolled his eyes. "It's nothing really bad. They were arguing, I got an idea and now I'm off to awesomeness."

"But if you got a guitar, what are all the shopping bags for?" he asked, nearly regretting the words as they left his mouth.

"Glad you asked."

Jester hopped off of the bed and pulled out several items. A lot of pirate-looking, silk shirts and vertically striped pants.

"You're going to make your own version of Yellow Submarine?" Wart guessed.

"Nope," he said, grinning broadly and showing off his chipped tooth. "You see, in the midst of their banal argument, Heck and Star also brought up several guitarists that were awesome. You know, old ones. You don't see anyone singing the praises of what's-his-nuts from Untalented Band anymore. And as they were naming some off—they're still trying to come up with their fanband thing—it was one of those times where one just stands out and you know, you just know that it's fate."

Wart stared at his brother's giddy face for a long time before answering.

"Hester…what the hell are you talking about?"

His brother's blue eyes danced at his confusion.

"I'm talking about my new idol. I mean, it was just fate. They were randomly naming off guitarists and all this stuff, proving how loserish they are, and this one name stood out in the blur of what they were saying and I knew, I just knew it was a sign. So I rushed home, did loads of research, bought loads of CDs and old LPs. By the way, I got us a record player while I was out. Anyway, I knew it was perfect I knew my true calling was to be like him…mostly. Minus the dying part."

"Can't you answer like a normal person?" he asked, exasperated with Jester's antics.

"Fine, fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I've become a total worshipper of Brian Jones."

Wart blinked twice. "Who? Isn't that the crazy guy from The Beach Boys?"

"No, that's Brian Wilson. Brian Jones is possibly the coolest fucker ever!"

"Language," he reminded him. "We have guests."

He rolled his eyes again. "Whatever, Dad."

Wart glared at him, hating whenever he called him 'dad.' Since their mother had a rather lax approach to parenting—which was probably why Jester's recent, extravagant purchases would go unpunished—he always referred to him as 'dad' after their father who, when he was home, had a more conventional stance on it. The fact that Wart was the third Corbin in the Waldorf family line also helped.

"Anyway, who is he anyway?"

Jester just shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. No go, I need to finish things in here. Go watch Orca with our guests. It's campy and hilarious but Nero seems to really like it for some reason."

Before he could protest, he found himself being pushed from the door, which promptly slammed and locked behind him. Wart turned, a look of confusion evident on his face. He knew his brother could be a little weird but this was even pushing that.

--

Alex Bennetson sat alone in his studio apartment, eating takeout Chinese food on the floor. He didn't have room for a table since the apartment was hardly large enough for his futon. Also, working at a bagel boy in a cheap bakery didn't exactly pay wonderfully. He had screwed around with the manager to get a raise a few times but each time he felt despicable after it.

Sighing, he forked a piece of General Tso's chicken and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he remembered the letter he had gotten, inviting him to the tenth reunion of his class. Great, they can all see what a failure he had been. A college dropout who worked in a bakery. Oh, boy!

Still, a more rational side of him thought, Mush could be there. He hadn't seen him in so long. His family went out to California shortly after graduation and his release from the mental institution. They didn't want him in the city. Alex so desperately wanted to see him again.

Of course, Luca could also be there. It was a strange predicament. Ten years later and he was still torn between two guys. Although Mush was much more normal now that he was operating on a cocktail of medication—or if he still was or whatever—that he didn't really need Luca's steadfast reliability. That is, if Luca even showed up. He had only gone to their school for a year. Not long enough to make any sort of bond, really.

His jumbled thoughts were interrupted by a knock at his door. Alex didn't get up in any sort of a hurry. It was probably just Mr. Babbitt, his landlord, asking for his overdue rent.

However, when he opened the door he saw a man standing there he hadn't seen in ten years. Alex even made the stereotypical move of rubbing his good eye in disbelief.

"Skittery!" he exclaimed.

"Blink!" he shouted back, hugging him tightly.

Alex wrapped his arms around him in return and they bounced up and down a little like children. He hadn't realized how much he had missed him in those ten years. They had been best friends since before they could write their own names.

"You're back!" he shouted rather obviously. "I mean, you're really back!"

He nodded. "Yeah. I forced Oscar to come back for the reunion. Selfish clod almost didn't come with me but I dragged him here."

"How are things with him anyway?"

"They're fine." He shrugged. "He's been an ass lately, though, so I've been turning to other guys a little. Like this bass player…"

"Skittery!" he chastised playfully, grinning widely at the return of his best friend. "You're awful."

"Hey, if Oscar's going to fuck around with drugs and be a moody ass, I have the right to screw the equally hot bass player…of another band."

Alex hit him lightly and they went into his apartment.

"Wow…small," he observed. "Do you even fit in here?"

"Oh, shut up," he said with a smirk. "Preppie."

"Layers," he shot back absent mindedly.

"Want something to eat?" He gestured to the chicken.

Michael shook his head. "Nah. Let's just sit and talk. What the flying fuck have you been up to these past ten years?"

--

A/N: another chapter in a day? Jigga what?! I know, this got a bit…left behind. But I am updating it. There have just been some complications. For one, I moved and had to pack, unpack, etc. etc. etc. Also, I'm pretty much semi-retired from the fandom. I turned out a couple of fics and I will keep working on DGMW but that's pretty much it.

Anyway, I don't know why I made Jester obsessed with Brian other than the fact that I'm kind of obsessed with Brian right now. xD Also, anyone who gets the little reference I put in with Blink's landlord gets a cookie.