(Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters used and named in this fanfic. Warnings: shonen-ai, maybe OOCness, poor attempts at humor)
The Green-Eyed Monster
"Jealousy comes about because of the insecurity of the jealous person. . . ."
:Quote by L. Ron Hubbard:
Stage 1: Incubation
Isumi had to try a grand total of five times before he got the key into the keyhole. He then ended up attempting to turn the key the wrong way and upon the realization that it was being turned the wrong way, and thus did not move, turned it the other way, successfully locking himself out. After trying to open the door two times before noticing his stupidity, he finally unlocked the door (again) and let himself in.
It was three in the morning and he was tired. Why in the world he got a flight that left Beijing at ten-thirty at night, he would never know.(1) And he couldn't have possibly slept on that plane considering he was excited to be going home and it was rather uncomfortable being squished for any amount of time by a rather…large person.
But anyway, all that mattered was that he was finally home, he could finally sleep in his own bed, after locking the door of course and…why had the door been left unlocked when he had arrived? Despite his sleep-deprived state of mind, Isumi knew Waya always locked the door to the apartment when they finally hit the hay. After slipping off his shoes and setting his suitcase aside somewhere (he thought it was against one of the bookshelves but he couldn't be too sure in the dark) he started cautiously creeping around the various rooms.
After flicking all the lights in the apartment on, Isumi stood in the middle of the living room looking around the room in confusion. Maybe he should just conclude that Waya had been forgetful and just get some sleep he desperately needed. But then again, the younger man never forgot to lock the door.
Just as the part of his mind that wanted to forget about this until morning, er…later, (which was a large portion might it be added) was about to win over his bodily functions, he found himself on the rugged floor, narrowly escaping a bash to the head by the coffee table, with a heavy weight pinning him down.
"Waya! What are you still doing up?"
Waya harrumphed, got off of Isumi, and flung himself onto the couch. Isumi righted himself into a sitting position and looked at the younger man. His arms were crossed and he was pouting.
Rolling his eyes and sighing, Isumi picked himself off of the floor and sat next to Waya. He then proceeded to pull the other Go professional into his lap, hugging him around the waist. "Yoshitaka…"
Waya grinned, made himself comfortable, and after giving his lover a peck on the cheek, promptly fell asleep.
"Augh…you'll never grow up, will you?" he asked him, a fond smile on his face. He proceeded with the painstaking task of turning off all the lights with the other in his arms, and then collapsed on the bed. He drew up the covers, placed a kiss on the top of Waya's head, and lost his mind to the warmth and darkness.
x.x.x
Stage 2: Birth
Isumi tiredly forced his body into a sitting position and stared blearily at the digital alarm clock. The bright red numbers told him it was currently ten thirty-two in the morning. He pulled himself from the bed and the warmth that came with it and went to open the curtains to the window. Waya always did have an uncanny ability to sleep through most anything, including the harsh blinding rays of the sun. Then after using the restroom, he continued to open the other three windows in the apartment, the one in the restroom, the one in the study/storage room, and the one in the kitchen.
Next, he located his suitcase (which was by the couch, not a bookcase) and dragged it back to the bedroom as quietly as possible. He opened it, and went on to separate his dirty clothing from the clean ones; the former going into the laundry hamper, the latter going into the drawers next to the hamper in the closet.
During his battle of emptying out the suitcase, Isumi had stumbled upon a dark blue shirt that wasn't his…or Waya's…
Bringing it with him to the kitchen, he took the phone off of the receiver and dialed a number he never really used before. While patiently listening to the rings, he wondered what they should eat for lunch.
"Hello?" the voice sounded groggy.
"Ah, Yang Hai!"
"Isumi…? What, did you leave something here?"
Isumi winced, realizing that he just might have woken the other up. "Um, no…but…" Well, this was an awkward question. "Are you missing a shirt?"
"…What?"
"I found a shirt in my bag and it's not mine. It's dark blue."
Yang Hai made a low whistle. "I thought–"
Isumi cut him off. "Don't even think of finishing that sentence," he hissed into the phone. "I take it it's not yours?"
There was a pause as the other man searched through his room. "Nope."
"Ah erm…" he shifted uncomfortably. Other than Yang Hai, the only other person who could've ended up leaving his shirt around was Le Ping. He could hear chuckling on the other side of the line. "This is not funny!"
"Okay, okay. He was running around here earlier, I'll go find him."
As he tapped the counter a bit impatiently, Waya wandered into the kitchen and sleepily made his way over to Isumi.
"Why are you making a phone call so early?"
Isumi paled…it wasn't as if he felt like he was caught red handed or anything like that, but Waya was known to jump to conclusions and misunderstand a lot of things. He silently held up the shirt and the other's golden-brown eyes sharpened.
"Look, Waya, it's not–" he was cut off as a voice brightly yelled his name through the phone. "Ah, um…Le Ping," at his name, Waya frowned.
"Oh, Isumi! I wanted to ask you something! You see, I lost a shirt a while ago, it's dark blue, and I can't find it anywhere. I asked around but everyone said they didn't see it. Do you have it?"
"Oh. Y-yeah, that's w-what I called about."
"Why are you stuttering?"
"Waya's here," he answered hesitantly. It currently looked like he was restraining himself from attacking Isumi and demanding answers.
"Hm, I never thought he'd be the jealous type." 'You have no idea,' Isumi thought. "Anyways, do you think you can get the shirt back to me?"
"In a couple of months, probably." 'If Waya doesn't destroy it before then…' he added silently.
"Okay! I gotta go. Seeya." There was a click and then the dial tone.
He sighed and put the phone back on the receiver. When he turned back around, Waya had him backed against the counter. There was a moment of stifling silence before he exploded.
"Care to tell me why you have his shirt?!"
Oh, this was just brilliant. Waya thought he was having an affair with Le Ping!
"Waya, I'm not cheating on you," he replied calmly.
He scowled. "How can I know that! For the last five years you go back there for one month a year to 'strengthen your Go.' For all I know, you could be! You did say we're an awful lot alike." He crossed his arms and turned away.
"Yoshitaka, I'm not," Isumi started, reaching for him.
Waya sighed in resignation, and went to leave, not even slowing while grabbing a jacket off of the couch. "I'm going out," he muttered.
Isumi shook his head, but smiled. Waya had grabbed the wrong jacket. He made his way around the kitchen, trying to find something to make for lunch. He'd let Waya simmer down and everything would be fine.
x.x.x
Stage 3: Development
Several weeks later they had another day off. Isumi was frantically searching for the shirt, going as far as to looking under the goban, in the medicine cabinet, and in the toilet. While on the other hand, Waya was lounging on the couch, television remote in one hand, a can of soda in the other, and was flipping channels, seemingly oblivious to his boyfriend's crazed antic pursuit.
Not long after, Isumi was standing over Waya menacingly. "What did you do to it?"
He plastered an innocent smile on his face. "What did I do to what?"
"The shirt," he deadpanned.
"What shirt?"
"Waya!" he exclaimed in exasperation.
Said man grinned and gave him a chaste kiss. Then he got off of the couch, switching off the television, and went to throw the can away. "I think I gave it to that kid, Atsushi something-or-other, downstairs. Not sure though. Maybe I shredded it and incinerated it then threw the ashes to the wind…" he trailed off.
Isumi groaned. Right. Everything was fine alright, except the teensy fact that Waya's jealousy was still there.
"Goodness, Waya, I already told you," he said, quietly embracing him from behind, "I'll always be yours. Just yours."
Waya started laughing. "Could you get anymore sappy?"
Isumi huffed. "I'm still going, you know?"
"Shinichiro," Waya whined, "Can't you just call and say that something happened to it or whatever?"
"Yeah, you're what happened to it. Look, do you want to come with me then?"
"Nah," he leaned his head back against his chest. "I'm sure you can only handle one of me at a time."
"So you're okay with it then?" he asked, lacing their hands together.
"Um…yes?"
Isumi sighed, turned him around and placed a full kiss on his lips. Just as he was going to pull away, Waya kept him from moving anywhere. They pulled away a few moments later, flushed and panting.
"Bedroom," Waya muttered against his chest.
Isumi just nodded.
x.x.x
Stage 4: Downfall
Hikaru cheerfully called for a third bowl of ramen.
"Hey, hey! Just because I'm treating doesn't mean you can order as much as you want!" Waya complained.
Hikaru stuck his tongue out. "It's your fault you lost."
"Hey, hey don't start a fight now," Nase chastised.
"Yeah, yeah," they both muttered.
"Hey, so where's Isumi?" Honda asked.
"Left for China this morning," Waya answered, trying to stab a noodle with his chopsticks.
"I thought he already went this year?" Fukui supplied.
"Mhm…Long story…" abandoning his futile attempt, he pulled out his wallet to make sure he had enough money. He blinked. He furiously searched through all the crevices of the money holder. Yup. There was only one thousand two hundred fifty yen.(2) Definitely not enough money to pay for five meals. He could have sworn that he stuck a good four thousand five hundred yen(3) in there last night. Certainly three thousand two hundred fifty yen(4) couldn't have vanished into thin air, right? …Right?!
"Waya, you don't look so good," Shindou commented.
He silently took the remainder of his money out of his wallet and spread it out on the table. He kept his face down and thought. He had put he money in just before he had gone to sleep, got up early to see Isumi off…Isumi had gotten up before him (he almost always did).
Waya let out a cry of anger and self-pity. "Isumi you idiot!!"
Everyone in the restaurant stared at him.
Hikaru awkwardly coughed, leaned back in his chair and said, "Nothing's wrong with him people! Just…go back to whatever you were doing and leave us alone!"
"So what happened this time?" Nase asked.
"He stole my money for payment for this shirt I gave away," Waya mumbled, feeling his face heat up.
"His shirt?" Hikaru asked incredulously.
"No, of course not!" he yelled, standing up. Becoming increasingly self-conscious he flopped back down into his chair. "This brat he knows in Beijing."
Their eyebrows shot up, save for Fukui's who simply asked, "So the shirt accidentally ended up there, what's wrong with that?"
Hikaru grinned. "You actually thought Isumi would be cheating on you?"
"Shut up, Shindou," Waya muttered, face getting even redder.
Honda snickered. "Go easy on him, you know he has enough possessiveness for ten people."
"Fine! Just pay for all of it then," Waya snapped, swiping his yen off of the table.
"Waya, you know they don't mean it," Nase tried placating him. "Let them have their fun. I'm sure you can get them back."
"Grr…Fine," he angrily agreed and sat back down. 'Isumi is so going to get it when he gets back,' he thought as he simmered.
A couple of days later, while Waya was busy burying himself under his sheets and pillows, Isumi got back home. He shifted to the side as Isumi sat on the bed.
"Hmm…why are you so quiet?"
Waya remained silent.
"Are you okay?"
"…"
"Waya?!"
"…"
Isumi groaned. He reached over and flipped Waya onto his back, then proceeded to position his body over his. He lowered his face until they were mere centimeters apart and glared at him. "Yoshitaka," he said warningly.
Waya 'eeped', heat rising to his face at their close proximity, and pulled the sheets over his head. Ignoring his lover was steadily becoming harder than he thought.
"Is this about the money?"
He remained silent.
"It is your fault. Had you not given that shirt to the kid downstairs you would have been fine."
Waya had to remind himself not to react.
Isumi sighed. "If you're really that upset I'll take you out for dinner at that sushi place."
Waya lowered the sheets to show the top half of his face. He grinned. "You're a big softie."
"Okay be that way," Isumi said and removed himself from the bed. "Just pay for your own food."
"Noooo," Waya cried, jumping out of the bed and standing in front of Isumi. "I take it back!"
Isumi smiled, pecked him on the lips, and said, "Go get ready then."
Waya grinned and hugged him tightly. "Mine."
Isumi returned the embrace. "Yours."
(1) Going off of my knowledge that in the anime (subbed in English by Real Fansubbers) in episode 65, that Sakurano(?) had said that it only took four hours to fly from Tokyo to Beijing.
(2)Approximately 11.67 US dollars (correct me if I'm wrong)
(3)Approximately 42.02 US dollars (again, if wrong, tell me)
(4)Approximately 30.33 US dollars (same as above, yeah, I know it doesn't add up. The numbers were originally provided to the ten-thousandths decimal place and I had to round them to the tenths place. Dx)
A/N: Uh. Well. I have completely no idea why I wrote this. I guess I just wanted to write little WayaIsumi fluff. Uh. That's basically it. Just a light little read. I thought this up in the car on my way to Disneyland, okay?! (Yes, I get that bored sitting there in the car.) I think I finished the basic idea at Denny's where we were having lunch before going to the park. But you don't care about that so I'll shut up.
--NarutoKyuu
Questions? Comments? Concerns? Click that little periwinkle-ish button that says "Go" to review now! O:D
Currency conversion thanks to http: / / www. xe. com/ ucc/