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About Us

Chapter 6

By Miki

"This is lovely tea, Atobe," Yoshiko smiled, taking a sip from her cup.

Yuuta fiddled with a button. They'd survived dessert – both rounds of it – and now they were sitting while they finished off the last of their tea.

Atobe nodded. "It is, isn't it? Mother usually has it imported from England since she's rather fond of English style blends."

Yumiko tilted her head slightly. "Is there a difference?"

Atobe considered for a moment before giving a nod. "Personal taste, I suppose."

Yuuta twitched.

"Personal taste," Yumiko repeated."Funny how some things work for some people and not for others," she commented and gave Atobe a knowing smile.

Atobe at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

(S)

Atobe stopped, confused, when Yuuta walked towards the television and not towards the front door. "I thought you said we were going to watch a movie," he said, flicking his watch on his wrist and checking the time.

Yuuta frowned a little. "I did."

Atobe glanced at the coffee table at the boxes sitting on it and then watched as Yuuta picked them up, turning them over in his hands. It occurred to him then that Yuuta subscribed to the rather peasant-like notion that a movie was the same whether viewed in a cinema or viewed on a tiny excuse of a television, and he swallowed.

"You can't think Ore-sama's going to watch a movie on that, can you?" he questioned. He walked back over to Yuuta and pulled the boxes from his hands, glancing at the titles and sniffing in disdain.

"Why not?" Yuuta retorted, snatching back the boxes again and trying to read the blurbs on the backs.

Atobe wrinkled up his nose and put his hands on his hips, feeling a need to assert the superiority of his own, informed, opinion.

"Because," he said, "Ore-sama's eyes are sensitive."

Yuuta gave him a disbelieving look. "You can go home if you want," he grunted, and gave Atobe a look over his shoulder as he stepped toward the television.

Atobe huffed a little, feeling indignant. That wasn't the response he had wanted, or expected, and it annoyed him a little to think Yuuta could be so dismissive.

Were Yuuta a guest in his own home, Atobe would never have considered making him squint and hurt his eyes trying to stare at some tiny box. Peering around the room, he noticed there were at least speakers, which seemed to imply the existence of a semi-decent sound system.

The sofa, he knew, was comfortable enough, though he personally preferred something designed and handmade to order, and he thought it highly possible that sitting on this one for too long might produce back spasms and aches in funny places.

It could have been worse though. It could have been Ikea from a box, he thought, and nearly shuddered.

"Oh, you're still here," Yuuta said, and Atobe stared at him.

"Of course I'm still here," he retorted, and couldn't help the childish tone that seemed to creep into his voice. He sat down quickly, and crossed his arms, daring Yuuta to say anything more on the subject. Yuuta's lips turned up a little at the edges, and for one second, Atobe thought he might just be smirking. Then he turned back to fiddling with the DVD player, and a moment later had dropped down onto the sofa.

"You want popcorn?" he asked.

"No," Atobe answered quickly.

"Oh."

Atobe glanced at Yuuta's left hand next to his right one.

"Chocolate?"

"Not particularly."

"Fruit?"

Atobe raised an eyebrow.

"Don't tell me you're still hungry."

Yuuta shrugged.

He wasn't, but that didn't mean he couldn't eat.

Yuuta wasn't sure when, but some time between discovering that Mizuki had an unnatural fondness for going through other people's clothes and wardrobes, and Mizuki declaring himself Yuuta's personal alarm clock, Yuuta had also discovered that if he left lollies or chocolates untouched in his room anywhere, they disappeared.

Syuusuke was always telling him that eating so much sugar couldn't be good for him, but Yuuta couldn't help going straight for the cupboard or the fridge the minute he got in the door. Since he didn't get that much sugar on the weekdays, he figured he could make up for it on the weekends.

He thought of the tubs of custard in the fridge and of the leftover pie and leftover blackforest cake as he fiddled with the remote, trying to remember which buttons to press to change the audio setup.

Atobe noticed Yuuta looked preoccupied. He eyed Yuuta's hand. Would Yuuta be annoyed at him if he wanted to hold hands? He probably would be, Atobe thought, and leaned back, pushing his hand half into his pocket to remind himself not to do anything.

He hadn't seen Yuuta's sister since she'd suggested they watch a movie, and had gone off upstairs to her room, but he didn't think she'd let him off if she caught him doing anything with Yuuta. He half-suspected she was spying on them somewhere.

Yuuta's voice interrupted Atobe's thoughts, as he got up off the sofa.

"I'll be back," he said, heading towards the kitchen.

Atobe wriggled his fingers further into his pants pocket and tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling. For a moment, he closed his eyes and simply listened to the sound of the DVD menu playing on repeat. Did he even know what they were watching? Yuuta hadn't asked him, had he?

"Are you asleep?"

Atobe opened his eyes. Yuuta plonked back down onto the sofa, one leg tucked under him and the other swinging over the side of the sofa. He finally pressed the play button, and looked at Atobe.

"Sure you don't want any?" he asked, gesturing to his large slice of blackforest cake.

Atobe shook his head.

Yuuta shrugged, and stuck his fork in. "I really like it, you know…"

It had never crossed Atobe's mind that Yuuta wouldn't like something he had chosen with the other boy in mind, but it still felt good to hear it straight from Yuuta's mouth. He felt surprised for a moment; maybe more surprised at himself than at Yuuta, because sometimes the things Yuuta said so nonchalantly were the things that made Atobe feel warm and embarrassed all over again.

(S)

Mukahi flicked a ball of paper at the wall.

"He's not answering," he complained, rolling over onto his back.

Oshitari adjusted his glasses and looked down at his friend where he was rolling about on the floor. He preferred to stay up on the bed since he suspected Mukahi's bedroom floor was dirtier than it looked.

"Maybe he's busy," he suggested, trying to discourage Mukahi from getting more ideas.

"Since when is Atobe ever too busy to pick up his phone?" Mukahi huffed. "I mean, he does stuff, but he usually picks up after a while, doesn't he?"

"Here, you can try from my number," Oshitari said and pulled out his mobile and tossed it down at Mukahi.

"I bet he's with his girlfriend," Mukahi said.

Oshitari resisted the urge to bang his head on the wall. Or better yet, bang Mukahi's head on the wall. There he was again with all that silliness about Atobe and his girlfriend when every time they thought they were getting a lead, they were getting nowhere.

"Don't you think it's kind of suspicious though, Yuushi? I mean, wouldn't you have thought Atobe would have at least shown her to us by now?"

Oshitari ignored Mukahi and tried to concentrate his attention on his book. He didn't know why he ever brought books to Mukahi's house and thought he'd get past the first page, because he almost never did.

A moment later, something hit him on the head and he sighed, placing his book down on the bed and staring at the scrunched up piece of paper now in his lap.

"I was saying," Mukahi said, somewhat petulantly, "I think maybe there's something funny about her, like maybe she's an older woman or something."

"You think Atobe has an older woman fetish?" Oshitari smirked, trying to imagine anyone older liking a middle school student enough to date him.

"Like how old?" he questioned, finding amusement in Mukahi's ability to imagine these impossible things.

"Like…" Mukahi paused, thinking.

"Like maybe university age, don't you think?"

"She'd have to be stupid," Oshitari laughed.

Mukahi shot him an annoyed look, but a moment later, perked up.

"Hey, he picked up!"

(S)

Yuuta fiddled for a moment after he'd finished his cake and pushed the plate onto the coffee table. He curled his toes and stretched his arms and fidgeted some more. Atobe managed to make sitting on the sofa look good, he realised.

He wondered if he should sit like Atobe too; all prim and proper, but then he realised he probably wouldn't be able to look like Atobe if he sat like that anyway, so he abandoned the idea. He wondered if Atobe felt weird wearing a tie in the house. Yuuta didn't even own a tie other than his school one, and he couldn't really see why anyone would want to be practically strangled all evening, just for the sake of looking good. But then, Atobe was Atobe, wasn't he? And Yuuta did kind of like the thought that he had dressed up.

He fidgeted a little more, putting his hands in his lap, and then putting them beside him, and then back in his lap. Then he looked around, and, not seeing Yumiko or his mother, fixed his eyes on the TV screen and reached out with his left hand.

He was close enough to Atobe that he didn't have to stretch. If Yumiko had walked in, she probably would have asked them why they were practically squashed next to each other when there was easily a metre of space on either side of them.

Yuuta hoped Yumiko didn't walk in.

Atobe didn't move his hand the first time when Yuuta pulled lightly on his wrist.

When Yuuta cleared his throat, stubbornly refusing to turn and look at Atobe, the other boy pulled his hand from his pocket and Yuuta slipped his fingers in between Atobe's, folding his fingers over.

Atobe's hand was warm, probably because it had been in his pocket.

It was a second or two before Yuuta felt Atobe's fingers folding over too, and a minute later that he felt himself relax.

Then Atobe's phone rang.

(S)

Yumiko peeked into the lounge, surprised to see only Yuuta sitting on the sofa. She wondered if Atobe had left, or if he were still there and by walking further in she'd only interrupt them, but when she did walk in, she was almost disappointed to find Atobe wasn't there.

Yuuta gave her a quick glance, but then returned his attention to the movie, and Yumiko decided it was better not to ask him about Atobe. She frowned in thought and started walking back toward the kitchen to get a glass of water, when she heard Atobe's voice. He was standing at the entrance, and for a moment, Yumiko thought he was talking to himself.

"Atobe-kun? Are you okay?" she asked, flicking on the light.

Then she noticed the phone at his ear. There was the sound of a click and a key from the door, and suddenly there were three of them in the hall, instead of two.

"I'm home."

"Welcome back, Dad."

(S)

Mukahi dropped the phone.

"That's a brand new phone, you know," Oshitari reminded him.

"I know!" Mukahi snapped and scrambled to pick it up again, pressing it to his ear.

Oshitari wondered what was so interesting on the other end of the phone line.

"He hung up," Mukahi declared, and looked annoyed. "But it was definitely a woman."

Oshitari blinked.

"Who was a woman?" he asked.

"I don't know," Mukahi blinked, "but he's definitely with a woman."

Oshitari rolled his eyes, uninterested.

"She's probably his mother, Gakuto."

"I know what Atobe's mother is like, Yuushi, and it wasn't her," Mukahi insisted. "She called him 'Atobe-kun'. Would your mother call you 'Oshitari-kun'?"

Oshitari sighed.

"What did Atobe say?"

Mukahi shook his head.

"Not much, apart from asking me what the problem was and why I was on your phone… And he said he was busy so stop calling unless it's an emergency and my heart stops."

Oshitari thought that sounded exactly like Atobe.

"Atobe's stupid," Mukahi said, though Oshitari didn't think he'd like it either if someone called him ten times in a row.

"I mean, have you ever seen a corpse dial, Yuushi?"

(S)

Flannelette pyjamas did not suit Ore-sama, Atobe decided. And certainly not ones with blue and white stripes, he thought.

He had never worn them before, and he didn't ever intend to wear them again, and if it hadn't been for the fact that Yuuta's mother had asked him to stay the night, he wouldn't be wearing them at all.

He felt and looked liked a piece of wrapping paper from a 100 yen store.

He yawned as he stared at himself in the mirror.

It was nearly one in the morning, and he wouldn't have minded turning down Yuuta's mother's invitation in favour of going home and sleeping in his king-size bed, except that Yuuta had kind of stood there in the kitchen, examining his empty glass and not meeting Atobe's eyes, which had made Atobe think he wouldn't feel satisfied just going home then.

So now he was wearing a pair of Fuji's pyjamas, because Yuuta's spares, which would have been big enough for him, were all at school, and had Atobe seen this forecoming, he would probably have rung home to tell someone to bring over his pyjamas.

He picked up the spare toothbrush Yumiko had gotten out for him and opened the packet, inspecting it with slight suspicion.

His arms felt funny against the flannelette material as he moved, and he hoped he didn't break into a rash. He hoped no one ever heard that he'd worn Fuji Syuusuke's pyjamas. He didn't think he'd be able to live it down.

(S)

Yuuta looked up from his bed as Atobe walked in the door.

He'd been wondering what had been taking so long, and he'd thought about going and knocking on the bathroom door, but he'd hesitated, and now Atobe was back again anyway.

His face looked a little pink. Yuuta wondered if he should ask if Atobe was okay, or if the pyjamas were too hot or maybe too small for him. His brother's pyjamas were only just big enough, and they only just managed to cover Atobe's ankles. Then it suddenly clicked in his head that maybe Atobe's face was pink for a different reason, and he subconsciously glanced downwards.

"I don't suppose you'd have any normal toothpaste around, would you?" Atobe demanded, and Yuuta blinked, cheeks reddening as he looked back up at Atobe's face.

It took him a second to realise why Atobe was asking, and then he realised that the reason Atobe looked so flushed was probably because he had discovered Syuusuke's wasabi flavour toothpaste. He tried not to laugh as he got up from his bed and walked out of his room, back to the bathroom, to find the mint one he and Yumiko used.

He handed it to Atobe, and then because he hadn't brushed his own teeth yet, they ended up standing side by side, trying to pretend they weren't staring at each other while they had mouths full of bubbles and mint flavour.

(S)

"There's something wrong with your brother," Atobe muttered as they walked back to the bedroom.

Yuuta, about to frown, caught himself before he did so and cleared his throat. "I don't think there's anything wrong with him," he said, though really he thought Syuusuke was a freak and a half for eating everything in wasabi flavour.

He'd once baked a cake for Yuuta, but Yuuta didn't touch it until Yumiko ate a piece first and told him there was nothing green in it at all. Still, he tried to look serious as he turned to Atobe. "It's just a matter of personal taste, Atobe."

He grinned when Atobe scowled, having been teased one too many times about that already.

He nearly apologised, seeing the look on Atobe's face, but it did serve him right.

Instead, he gave Atobe a quick peck on the cheek – half in penance and half because he suspected if he didn't do it, Atobe might say it out loud, and it was embarrassing when Atobe said it aloud – and then quickly flicked off the light switch.

It seemed to work well enough, and Atobe didn't even complain about having to get into his futon in the dark, until five minutes later, Yuuta heard Atobe's voice.

"Yuuta."

"Huh? What?" he whispered.

"Ore-sama can't sleep on the floor."

"Why?"

"I have a sensitive back," Atobe informed him, and Yuuta couldn't help but think that everything about Atobe was sensitive.

"Just go to sleep and you won't feel anything," he grunted, turning away from Atobe.

Atobe was probably just being spoilt, he thought. There was nothing wrong with being on the floor; it was normal enough for most people.

Ten minutes later, Yuuta had had enough of hearing Atobe turn over and adjust the blanket and turn over again and adjust the blanket again.

"Fine, you can have the bed," he grumbled.

Atobe wasn't about to argue, and a minute after they'd changed pillows and beds, he was out like a light.

Yuuta sighed and turned over, trying to get his pillow comfortable under his head. It took him more than an hour to fall asleep.

His last coherent thought was that he hoped Atobe was happy up there in his bed, because he really didn't like it on the floor, and he wouldn't have even considered moving for anyone else.

Stupid Atobe, acting like a princess, he thought. But he turned to face his bed, and tried to make out Atobe's outline in the darkness. Then he fell asleep and dreamt of peas and chopsticks, wasabi flavoured toothpaste and of Atobe in flannel pyjamas.

.tbc.