Told I would post this immediately. I have a 3.5 chapter in the works right now, a sorry I'm such an ass gift for running off there. It'll be a special smut, filler chapter, but not with Lucky! Nope, it'll be a pairing you'll see in this chapter. ;) Oh, and not Deak/Lavi. Not yet... Again, this story is mostly KayDay's idea. I'm just the one writing it out and posting it. Check her out, guys, she's got some good comedies and what-nots floating around!
Warning: This is told as if I were telling you this in person as if it was a story. Third person with attitude. So enjoy or fuck off. P.S: There is yaoi, and Lavi has both his green eyes. This chapter has a small flash-back of smut right off the bat.
Chapter 3: I Know That Face… Where Have I Seen That Face Before?
It's a strange thing, meeting someone from your past. Whether they were 'good' or 'bad' means nothing. If distanced long enough, those generalizations can be swept under the rug. In fact, to meet a person after a long time apart is like meeting them for the first time - again! Near impossible, I know, but for this case and pretty much this case alone, it works. While you reintroducing yourself to this person and getting to know them all over again, you'll be fascinated to find out that while some things never change, other things do. The person you meet is in fact a new person entirely: New details, new relations, new outlook, and new presentation. That's the most important, presentation. It means that they never show themselves the same way twice. And that is a trait to be praised and feared.
"Never too old, never too bad, never too late, never too sick to start from scratch once again." - Bikram Choudhury
Lavi awoke in pure bliss. The morning light made the room a deep gold. It looked just perfect on the red sheets laying on top of the boy and glorious on Tyki holding him from behind. The Portuguese was deep asleep, very satisfied from last night.
God, Lavi couldn't remember the last time Tyki had taken him like that. It was always amazing, but last night was one of those nights where all Tyki wanted was more and more and more. He wouldn't let Lavi go, even for a second.
The white pleasure of Lavi's previous orgasms lingered as Tyki rammed into him, assaulting his prostate without regard. The redhead was on his back, his hair splayed out on the bed in a fan against the sheets. The boy was flushed and writhing, exhausted but much too aware of everything around him.
Tyki had one hand pumping Lavi's weeping cock and the other on Lavi's thigh, holding for leverage. But that hand started to move ever so slowly, but it's feathery touch caught Lavi's divided attention, and he watched it trail up.
His fingertips glided up Lavi's slick thigh to his lean hips, bruising slightly from when Tyki gripped them fiercely last round. Avoiding the dark marks that he was silently proud of, the Portuguese's palms caressed the redhead's sides, causing him to flinch with severe sensitivity. With eyes half-hooded, Tyki moved higher on his Lovely's body, to his flushed chest. It rose and fell rapidly with Lavi's hitched breaths and unabridged moans, but Tyki made the torso arch violently as he tweaked the already red and hard nipple, making the boy below scream.
Abandoning the peak just as quickly a he attacked it, Tyki leaned over his Lovely, still moving inside him with practiced power. He finally trailed his hand up to the point that he had aimed for in the fist place: Lavi's hand. He intertwined their fingers, and Lavi held on dearly as he was drowned in pleasure.
Their eyes met quickly, for the smallest of seconds, before Tyki took over Lavi's kiss-bruised lips for a final time. Lavi couldn't take it anymore.
"TYKI!" Screaming into the delicious kiss, Lavi came with Tyki. Tyki moaned deeply, but caught himself before he fell on his lover. Pulling back reluctantly, he saw that the redhead had passed out. Tyki chuckled, realizing he probably went too far, but he believed it was worth it. He just had to remind Lavi who he was in love with.
The poor boy had almost passed out twice before he actually did after coming for the fourth time that night. Lavi didn't even want to move…
Rap-rap-rap-rap-rap-rap-rap!
Lavi's half-hooded eyes snapped open at the very audible, quick knocks on the door. Looking over at the green glowing alarm clock, Lavi could see it was seven in the morning; A time that Tyki never wanted to be woken up at.
Very carefully sliding out of his lover's arms, Lavi pulled on yesterday's jeans and a t-shirt from his dresser drawer, running silently as his surprise guest began to rap of the door again. Lavi swung open the door in mid-knock to find the last person in the world he expected: Bookman.
"Finally. What kept you?"
Lavi just stared, mouth agape.
Bookman shook his head, "Ah, never mind that. Come, get in the car. Driver's seat. Hurry!" And the elderly, but uncharacteristically quick man was walking back down the front path from the door.
Lavi, way beyond confused, did what he said with out thought. Snagging some Vans, his keys, and his phone, he jogged after Bookman, closing the door behind him. He was in the car and on his way, going where his grandfather instructed him, no idea what was going on.
Tyki slept on, alone in the house. Lavi didn't leave a note or anything like one for him to see.
"Don't tell people how to do things, tell them what to do and let them surprise you with their results." - George S. Patton
For fifteen minutes, Lavi drove, following Bookman's curt instructions and demands to "Hurry, idiot!", until they hit the slow, spaced traffic of morning rush hour. The cars were a good distance apart to avoid rear-ending each other, but their speed was snail-like as they traveled to where ever they had to be. The two of them were stuck.
Lavi peeked at Bookman and saw he was looking critically at the other vehicles. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, he turned to his still very confused grandson, "Well, drive."
Lavi went wide-eyed, "What?"
"You heard me, boy. Drive. Get us through his dead-lock and to the studio we met at before. I need to be there in ten minutes."
Lavi just wasn't registering what the old man was saying, "But it would take twenty minutes without traffic. It's impossible, unless…" Lavi didn't even finish, it was so preposterous.
But Bookman had other ideas, "Unless what? Unless you broke the law; Speed, weave through traffic, run lights."
Lavi just stared at the man, flabbergasted. Bookman held the gaze firmly, giving him a face that clearly said 'do it now'.
And so Lavi did.
Putting on his game face, Lavi scanned the streets: No cops. Good, then this would start off well. He set his attentions to the traffic ahead, particularly to the gaps between the cars: Plenty wide for this car, all of them. And no cars we jumping ahead, and few were close to the car ahead's bumper. It was his lucky day.
So Lavi leaned back, gripped the wheel, and pushed the gas. He didn't floor it like some first time rookie: He knew what he was doing. He moved slow at first, carefully, as he swerved through the barely there spaces in between the cars. As he picked up speed, his turns became sharper and the drivers became foul. Many honked and yelled and gave him a none-too-friendly finger. Others were more daring in their aggression; They cut him off and lurched forward just as he was coming up to them, but every time he swerved just in time into another, unguarded gap.
Lavi was so good at this because he had this weird train of thought when he first learned to drive. He knew he had to learn, seeing as he could never seem to stay in one place at once for very long. So, as he taught himself how to drive before he got his license, he mastered driving legally. But, as he rode the roads, he quickly learned not everyone was interested in driving legally. So, what better way to know what those road-rage dumb asses would do than to learn how to drive like them? And that's what Lavi did. He mastered the road in all aspects and was hands down one of the best drivers around.
Good enough to even take his place in some not-so-legal street races a couple years back. But that was behind him now, just as the L.A. traffic was. Lavi had successfully inter-woven his way off the highway and into the city. He glanced at the radio clock: Four minutes left. It would take a little over ten minutes to get there, even if the lights were on his side.
So, Lavi floored it. He blazed through intersections, past red and green lights alike. The cars around him swerved when he passed, avoiding him and making a path for him. The cops were no where to be found, and by some miracle, no one caught his plates.
Soon enough, they were coming onto the Studio. It was at a two-way street divided by a median. The separator ended to allow Lavi's lane to turn into the studio parking lot by crossing the opposite lane.
Lavi eyed the point of enterance carefully. A SUV was in the turn lane he wanted, and the clock said he only had a minute, maybe less. Bookman wasn't kidding when he said ten minutes…
Lavi eyed a gap in the opposite lane's cars: Not enough for the SUV to dare, but maybe. Just maybe…
As he reached the end of the median, the redhead hit the brakes and turned the wheel sharply. Clearing the SUV, Lavi slid in between the barely-there gap and into the parking lot, just in time.
Calmly, he pulled into a visitor parking spot and turned to Bookman. A miniscule look of slight surprise from the maneuver and satisfaction for some reason was on his face, but it disappeared. The frigid face came back as Bookman exited the car and began to walk to the door. Lavi, pretty sure that Bookman wanted more than a ride to work followed him after turning off the car.
They entered the building, now bustling. Lavi had only been here on the weekend, and then, this place was a ghost town; Now, chaos. But it was chaos Bookman navigated through like a boss. Lavi could have sworn it seemed that the other employees were parting just for him…
They went to the back of the studio, where the outdoor scenes were shot. Many movies-in-the-making were being held here, but only one was important to Lavi: Nuclear, the one his twin brother was to be the lead role in.
Lavi followed Bookman closely, not wanting to get lost in the hectic work of the crews. He didn't see Deak. The redhead only now wondered if his brother knew he was here…
Lavi opened his mouth to ask, but shut it as they came to an abrupt stop. Before them a scene from the movie Nuclear was being filmed. Deak, playing Marcus, was talking to some tall, dark stranger that Lavi could only assume was the double agent character Daisya couldn't seem to shut up about. Lavi had heard so much about him, he could've recognized him anywhere.
But even closer to the old man and his grandson was the director chair with the director in it. Their back was to them, focusing on the acting. He raised a hand, gesturing to cut the scene. Deak and the other man, still having not noticed Lavi, began to talk.
Bookman was the first to speak, "Director."
The guy in front of them turned around, and Lavi was caught off guard for a second. The guy in the director's chair looked like a kid, way too young to be directing a movie. And everything else about him seemed far-fetched for any employment option, much less directing. He had shoulder length white hair and the palest possible skin. His eyes were a clear, pastel blue, but Lavi almost missed them when he saw the scar…
"Hello Bookman", the boy said in a light British accent.
But Lavi barely heard him. The scar going straight through the director's eye was still distracting him.
"I have some I think can fill the position we have vacant."
That scar shaped like a pentacle…
And then it hit him, "ALLEN WALKER!"
Lavi's outburst finally brought the boy's attention to him, "Yes, Deak?"
The redhead shook his head sporadically, "No, no, man! I'm Lavi. Do you remember me? Come on, Al, you gotta remember me!"
For a moment, Allen was silent, just staring, wide-eyed at Lavi. "…L-Lavi?!" The white-haired boy leapt from his seat and spun to face Lavi, clearly excited beyond all belief. "Oh my god, Lavi, I can't believe it's you!"
Lavi grabbed the smaller boy of twenty (who will still be considered a boy despite his age because he is just so darn adorable) and lifted his light frame into the air. Allen instinctively wrapped his lithe arms around Lavi's shoulders as he was spun around by the overly excited redhead. When Lavi finally let Allen settle on the ground, he still had his hands on the boy's thin shoulders.
Allen was stammering over his own words he was so flabbergasted, "H-how on Earth…?"
"I don't know, Al, but I gotta tell ya: I couldn't be happier!" Both their smiles were dazzling as they stared in awe at each other, which would make any person in their right mind wonder if those two were… Ya know, in love.
And that is when two more joined the little get-together around the director's chair. Deak jogged up, looking back and forth between the two apparently reunited men, "Lavi? How did you get here? Do you know Allen? What's going on here?" Right on his tail, his tall, dark co-star followed.
Upon the arrival of the mysterious man, Allen pulled out of Lavi's friendly hold. The redhead thought it was odd but pushed the thought aside to address Deak's questions, "Well: I drove with Bookman. Yes, I do know Al. And… Well, I don't know. What is going on here?" Lavi asked as he turned to face his grandfather who was looking slightly irked at being forgotten by all when he had something to say.
"Hmph, stupid children…", Bookman grumbled under his breath before turning to Allen. "As I was saying, I think I've found the solution to our casting problem." He then turned and stared at Lavi. Allen followed suit, a confused look on his face that slowly turned to realization.
"You mean…?"
"Yes, Mr. Walker. Deak's stunt double."
The shock was clear on Deak and Lavi's faces.
Lavi looked absolutely bewildered, "What?"
But Deak seemed mildly outraged, "No way!"
The other twin turned to his brother, giving him a look that said 'What the fuck does that mean?'
Bookman gave Deak a hard stare, "I have thought carefully over this before I brought it forth to Mr. Walker, idiot grandson. I even tested him on out way here, and he passed."
Then Lavi finally understood, "That's why you had me drive over here like the world was fucking endi- Wait. You thought I did good?"
Bookman rolled his eyes, "Yes, Lavi, you did do well, but shut up."
While Lavi was some-what taken aback, Deak pushed forward, "So you tested his driving, only? Well, I don't know if you've read the script or not, sir, but there's a bit more to the stunts in this film besides driving. There's fights and falls and crashes and jumping from stupid heights all over the place in this plot! You're setting him up for his death bed!"
Lavi intervened before Bookman could even open his mouth, "Hey! I'll tell you now, Deak, that I can handle all that and more. I can take more shit thrown my way than anyone else. Don't underestimate some one you barely know, brother."
Deak was stunned to silence, like everyone else at Lavi's outburst, except one who scoffed at the bold statement. Lavi looked over at the until-now-silent man standing next to Deak, "What?"
In a gruff voice he replied, "That's a pretty big statement. You sure you can back it up?" Lavi finally got a good look at the actor before him: He was around Lavi's age and of Japanese descent. With long navy tresses tied back in a high ponytail, his angular face with a gorgeous features and striking dark blue eyes we easily seen. And under all the black he wore for his sci-fi role in the movie, a lean, mean body was very evident. But the glare on his face made how he felt about this new redhead more than obvious….
Lavi was a bit peeved at the laugh but stayed calm as he stepped up to face the stranger, "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Did I stutter, dumb ass? Stunts are no laughing matter. I do my own, and they take more control than some guy off the street can have."
"I'm positive I can do what ever stunt you can do like it was nothing."
Kanda smirked at Lavi's challenge, "Any stunt I can do, huh?…"
Allen recognized the glint in Kanda's eye and knew exactly what he was planning, "Kanda, don't! That stunt is a lot for any professional."
"Shut up, Moyashi. If this idiot thinks he can do stunts, let's see him try." Kanda turned on his heel and stalked over to another set that had yet to be torn down. When he reached the set, he turned and faced the small audience that had followed him over but focused particularly on Lavi, "This is the set of the stunt I just did. I took that bike"- there was one parked near by- "and rode it in a high speed chase. And crashed. I jumped off the bike in time, just as planned, after I lost control, and then sent the bike skidding into that wall."
Lavi looked over at the impact on the set wall: It was burnt and beat but still standing. Then, he looked at the bike, analyzing its dents and scrapes…
Allen grabbed Kanda by the arm and dragged him away from the group. Once out of hearing range of the distracted Lavi, the director spun around and met Kanda's glare with one of his own, "What on Earth are you thinking? You're a professional; Lavi hasn't even been hired yet- If I hire him at all!"
The Asian actor just scoffed, "The Baka Usagi shouldn't have run his mouth."
Allen's anger was thrown off for a second, "Baka Usagi?…"
The two were interrupted as Deak stormed up, "What do you think you're doing, Kanda? Lavi's never done any of this before, but what I know of him, he's very daring and just might accept you stupid fucking challenge!"
Kanda snarled at the redhead, "Well, the dumb ass should do the stunt and learn not to let his mouth run like that."
Deak was truly enraged now, "He's my brother, damn it! I just found him and now you're here trying to-"
The worsening argument was cut off with the growl of an engine and the screeching of tires. They all spun around to the beginning of the set's track just in time to see Lavi tearing down the road and Bookman watching him like it was no big deal. The stone-faced redhead sailed down the asphalt and swerved side to side to devoid the precisely placed debris with ease.
It was obvious Lavi had a practice with the speeding bike, so when he began to shake slightly, bystanders watching the stunt got worried. With those speed shakes, as they were called, became full-blown, uncontrolled swerving, people started jogging up to the set and calling out to Lavi. At last, the redhead had lost all handle on the bike because it had turned violently sideways on him, but the boy pushed off the seat of the motorcycle and rolled to a crouch just in time as the bike met the wall. Again.
Lavi rose from the ground unharmed surrounded by cheers from the cast and crew that had gathered to watch his crash. Only four people weren't cheering: Bookman, who wouldn't have cheered if Lavi had grown wings and flew off as the bike crashed, and the speechless director, challenger, and brother who could do nothing but stare.
Lavi walked up to Allen and smiled down on him, "I'd like to talk to you about this job, if you'll let me. I need one to pay the bills, and I'd love to work here."
Bookman walked up and stood by Lavi, "I agree, Mr. Walker. Lavi is perfect for the position."
Allen looked over at Kanda. He caught the actor's eye for a moment and held them until the elder looked away with a 'che': He approved. Then all of them looked at Deak. The redhead was still gawking at his twin, but he closed his mouth for a moment and spoke softly, "I… I suppose you can do this. Though I have no clue how you came to be so good, you are. You can clearly handle yourself and since you do need the job… Sure. Besides, I'd love to have the chance to work with my brother." And he smiled.
Lavi broke out into a huge grin and hugged Deak out of nowhere. Deak stiffened at first from what both assumed was surprise, but he softened and returned the gesture.
Finally, Lavi turned to Kanda. The look on the actor's face just dared him to say something and see what would happen. So, when Lavi opened him mouth, he didn't brag, "I didn't catch your name. Mine's Lavi. And yours?"
Kanda narrowed his eyes suspiciously, "Kanda Yuu." The redhead nodded and turned back to Allen, but stopped short when Kanda spoke again, "How do you know the Moyashi?"
Allen and Lavi both went a little bit wide-eyed at the question. The director looked completely speechless, so the other teen explained, "Well, me and Al go way back. We met each other a few years back.
"We used to protect each other when we were both homeless, living on the streets of New York."
"Experience is what you get when you didn't get what you wanted." - Randy Pausch
According to much of the world, New York City never sleeps, so it made sense that the streets of Manhattan were filled with a fair amount of people, even at two o'clock in the morning on a Tuesday. The alleys and lesser known avenues off of Time Square still had the homeless wandering and waiting for morning to come.
Among them was one boy of fourteen, resting in a sleeping bag and a collection of blankets gathered over the last few months. His white hair and skin were shocking against the night and dark fabrics, as well as his blue eyes. Allen was still awake on another sleepless, uncomfortable night. The shuffling of the other homeless around him was just enough to keep him conscious.
"Hey there, pretty boy," came a slur from behind him.
Allen whipped his head around; this couldn't be good. A filthy man in was standing behind him, buried under a heap of torn and baggy clothing. His age was practically impossible to tell under all the grime and the night.
"What are you doing here all alone, huh?" he asked with a toothy grin and a gruff voice. "Would you like some company?" And he stepped closer.
Allen tried to wrestle his way out from under the mound of blankets but was too slow. The man was upon him, reaching for the white-haired boy's clothes. It's an unfortunate fact the rape is not entirely uncommon among those without homes.
"Come on, hold still!" Even as Allen kicked and yelled, the filthy man was able to tear a bit of his shirt off, revealing more near translucent skin. A nasty smirk stretched across the monster's face, but it fell away into a daze and pained look. He was struck from behind, at the weak point of his skull, setting him off balance and to his knees. The back of his grungy coat was taken into the fist of his assailant, who threw him back and away from the quivering Allen.
The still hazy man looked up from his place, sprawled out on the ground, and got a good look at the defender in the streetlight. Even at sixteen, the redhead was tall for his age and lean. The glare on Lavi's face was dark and promising of pain. If the man so much as made a glance at Allen, Lavi was going to fuck him up in more ways than he could imagine.
"Get lost, you sick fuck," the redhead growled, and the 'sick fuck' crawled back and scampered down the street and around the corner. Lavi turned to his still shell-shocked friend and knelt down. He fixed up the boy's shirt the best he could before speaking soothingly, "You okay, Al?"
Allen came to from his daze mind and nodded, "Y-yes. I'm fine…"
"Remember, when I leave, cover yourself entirely. They shouldn't try to approach you when they can't see what you look like."
Allen smiled weakly, "Sorry, I'll be more careful."
Lavi and Allen had been friends for a year then. More than friends even: Brothers. Lavi had some foster parents in the area, but they ran out on him due to being broke, lazy asses. The shit-for-brains foster agency didn't get work on the runaway parents, and Lavi unwittingly taken out of their system. Well, good. Lavi didn't want 'parents' anyways. He was more than ready to be on his own. The redhead held a job in a corner store as a sandwich maker, which came in handy for money and nearly outdated left-overs for him and Allen to eat.
Allen could relate well to Lavi. The albino boy was in the poor custody of his uncle, Cross. He understood well what it felt like to be left to fend for oneself as Cross didn't often enough to be considered a hobby. And though Cross was M.I.A again, this time was different.
Cross usually doesn't leave the kid unless he has an adequate job to secure their home, so Allen could only assume that dark day when he came home to find the house in shambles and torn apart, that Cross was taken, not skipping town ahead of him. The debts he had were worse than they'd ever been at the time…
So, Allen was soon kicked out with out a steady income and was forced to wander the streets. It was by luck alone that one of the other students in his school was also homeless and was more than kind enough to take the whitette under his wing on the streets. They worked together in everything. Allen had a job loading and unloading for the corner store Lavi worked in, and both supported each other in school, where they were the top of their class.
And that's how the two lived for a year and a half, defending and supporting each other no matter what NYC threw at them. They were only barely getting by, until one day, a letter arrived at the school, addressed to Allen Walker.
Idiot,
I'm alive. I see you are too. Here's a ticket to LA. Here's the school you're going to start next week. Sorry you had to go through all that shit.
Cross
The letter held what it promised: A one-way ticket to Los Angeles and a brochure for a film school. Allen flipped out. In a good way, "Oh my God! I can't believe it! He's alive, Lavi, he's alive! But he wants me to leave…" He looked up at Lavi, ready to say he wouldn't accept, but the redhead cut him short.
"No. You're going. You've always wanted to work with movies, so you have to take this opportunity! You'll have a home again."
"Really? Thank you! But, what about you?"
"I guess I'll just have to make my way to California on my own, won't I?"
"W-what? How?"
"I'll walk!" Lavi replied with a beaming grin.
And that's what he did. Allen left before the week was out and lost contact with Lavi. But the redhead kept his word. He finished out the year and spent the summer trekking across the US to LA, and enrolled in a high school there as a custody-free minor.
Lavi thought of Allen often, but rarely spoke of him. He missed his little brother dearly, and it pained him to speak of him. But now Allen was back, and that's all that mattered.
"'Tis strange - but true; for the truth is always strange; Stranger than fiction." - Lord Byron, Don Juan
The evening skyline of Hollywood passed by the windows as Lavi was driven home in a much safer fashion than how he drove that morning. Deak was behind the wheel while Bookman talked his ear off about coming in for work the next morning.
"Even though Mr. Walker said eight o'clock, you should be there twenty minutes earlier. That's a good amount of time to prepare, make a good impression, learn how to-", Bookman listed on and on.
But Lavi had enough, "Gramps!"
Bookman looked up at him, eyebrow cocked, "What?"
"I'm gonna be fine! You don't have to worry so much."
"Of course I'm worried, you idiot. Tomorrow is your first official day. You have Deak's name as an actor to uphold."
"So, what you're saying is that you're worried…"
"Yes. Obviously."
"…About me," Lavi said with a sly grin.
"…That is beside the point." Bookman turned and looked out the window, peeved at how his words were turned against him.
Lavi laughed heartily before Bookman spun around and popped him on the head. The two were in the back of the car, in Deak's rearview mirror. The man behind the wheel was smiling contently at the shenanigans going on in the back seat.
Deak was happy to have Lavi, to have the brother he had only dreamed of for most of his life. The fun-loving boy had been perfect since he met him. Lavi was special to Deak already. A brother at last…
They pulled up to the small house that Lavi resided. It was the first time Deak had seen it. And he liked it. Gramps had always gone big when it came to homes, so the boy had been in the lap of luxury all his life. This quaint, quiet house was new to him. He looked over it fondly, scanning the simple features and furious Tyki.
The car went silent and cold at the sight of the man leaning against the door frame with a cigarette in hand, placing a dark look upon the car.
Lavi was deathly silent as he opened the door and exited the car before anyone could say anything. He walked up slowly towards Tyki, who was foreboding. Neither Bookman nor Deak could hear the exchange that took place, but both could read body language fluently. Tyki was curt and pissed with small, tight movements of his lips and arms, trying to control something inside him, while Lavi was more meek than either of them had known he could be, hanging his head and shoulders.
The two in the car watched their conversation like a tennis match, Lavi would try to explain, but Tyki would interrupt every time. Then, he went to far; Lavi, tired of being stopped mid-sentence, spoke up, and Tyki stepped forward quickly, a threat. Lavi flinched backwards, wide-eyed and scared.
Bookman and Deak were out of the car in a heart beat, marching straight up to the couple. Tyki turned to them, putting on a none to friendly face but not a face that promised pain, "Yes?"
Deak opened his mouth, ready to chew the man out for the aggressive behavior, but Bookman beat him to the punch but hit Tyki in a very different way.
"I'm sorry I had to steal Lavi so early this morning and so quickly at that," Bookman stated firmly, throwing Tyki off. "I had to have him come try out as a stunt double for Deak. I was made aware you need the money for some bills, and I assure you, it will cover those costs and then some."
Tyki turned to Lavi, both stunned: One because of the job, the other because the Grandfather he had only known for a few days had just defended him.
Lavi mentally shook his head: Defense? There was no need for it, as kind as it was. Tyki wasn't going to hurt him. He was just scared, that's all.
"Oh?" Tyki questioned, out of shock, "Well, that's great! Isn't it, Lovely?" He stepped forward to a still thinking Lavi and gave him a small, gentle kiss to bring him back to reality.
Lavi smiled, turned to his Deak and Bookman, and bid them good bye, saying he'd see them tomorrow at seven forty on the dot. He entered the house while Tyki said good bye too.
"Thank you for such an opportunity," he said, wearing a plastered smile. He still wasn't happy with the trick these two had pulled on him, taking away his Lavi from under him, but he could move on. For now.
Bookman nodded curtly and turned on heel to the car, but Deak stayed. And stared.
Tyki and Deak stared each other down, know that both of them were angry and weren't going to so easily cool off. The redhead gave a look that said 'Try It Again. I Dare You.' and walked back to the car with his grandfather.
Tyki waited till they were off the street to go back into the house. He was going to really chew Lavi out for this, leaving him with out his phone or a note or anything! He turned into the bedroom, found Lavi, and opened his mouth to begin but stopped short.
Lavi held his cellphone in his hand. Fourteen missed calls, and a dozen texts, all from Tyki, presumably before he found the phone on the charger and threw it on the bed where the redhead had found it. Looking into the dire attempts for contact with the him, Lavi saw more than rage. He saw worry. And fear.
He turned to Tyki, who stood at the doorway staring openly at the enigma that was his lover.
"Tyki… I'm so sorry… I'm so sorry…" Tears began to drop from his eyes as a sense of betrayal swept over Lavi. Tyki stepped forward, all anger drained away and firmly embraced Lavi, caressing him.
"It's okay, Lovely, it's okay. I have you back. That's all that matters. I have you…"
Tyki sat his redhead onto the bed, holding him close as he sensed Lavi had had a very hard day today. Though he'd find out for sure later that night, Tyki already knew it had to have something to do with Lavi's past. It was the only thing that really hurt the boy like this most of the time.
On the other side of town, in a comfortable high-rise in LA, Deak sat in his room, shaking his leg in a nervous twitch.
Something was wrong. Today, how he protected Lavi from his own boyfriend was entirely uncharacteristic of himself. He did not attach easily with those around him, and even if Lavi was his brother, it would not make so great of an exception as to risk himself for what was only a few days ago a complete stranger.
He ran his fingers through his hair, plopping down on his bed and turning off the lights via remote. Deak forced himself to sleep. As he phased out of reality, he tried to tell himself the redhead taking over the last of his waking mind was himself, like it should be, and not his newly-found twin brother.
But that was a lie.
"The initial deviation from the truth is multiplied later a thousand fold." -Aristotle
As we live out our ever-changing and even shameful lives, we find lying comes as a natural resort. We lie for ourselves and others. Lies that deny our less than pleasant pasts and our hideous presents. The most creative lies can even smother our looming futures. But the greater the falsehood, the more the pain will be when it comes back around. And it always does. But before these lies can hurt us or anyone else, they do work. For a brief and falsely perfect time, we can disguise ourselves under a ruse that can or cannot be easily stripped away. How soon that fallacy is revealed and how badly karma will kick your ass about it is entirely up to you. You control the lie after all, right? Don't you?
