Normal Chaos

Archive: Please let me know.

Category: Angst, some fluff.  

Series/Sequel: Maybe.

Feedback: Yes, please. Drop me a line.

Thanks and dedicated to: Starsnake, for getting me hooked.

Warnings: Infidelity.  

Spoilers for: None.

Notes: For those of you dubbies, Yamato=Matt, Jyou=Joe, Taichi=Tai, Koushiro=Izzy, Takeru=T.K., and Hikari=Kari.  

Ring.

"Hi, this is the Takaishi household. We can't come to the phone right now, but leave a message and we'll get back to you ASAP!" Beep.

"Dammit!" Yamato Ishida hissed, hanging up his cell phone and impatiently drumming his fingers against his thigh. "Why is no one home?" He dialed another number and waited restlessly.

Ring.

"Hi, this is the refrigerator. The answering machine ran away with the blender, so leave a message and I'll stick it on myself and Taichi will get it when he gets home. Thank youuu!"

Yamato sweatdropped. Why had he let Taichi program the answering machine message? He hung up again and scanned through the digital phonebook, mentally checking off the people he had already called. When he got to the last number on the list, he hesitated for a second, then shook his head and hit the auto-dial. Several rings later, the phone picked up and a sleepy male voice said,

"Kido residence, this had better be good."

"Jyou?" Yamato asked, nearly collapsing with relief. "You would not believe how good it is to hear your voice."

"Wouldn't it be better to hear my voice at a more godly hour?" Jyou inquired politely.

Yamato laughed nervously. "Um . . . could you do me a favor? Like a really super-huge favor?"

"What?"

"Well, see, um . . . my car was sort of stolen and there are no taxis out at this hour and I don't want to hitch back to Kyoto in this weather and no one else was home, soooo . . ."

"You want me to pick you up."

"Yeah. Would you? I mean . . ."

"Where are you?"

Yamato glanced up at the street signs. "If I don't miss my guess, about three blocks northwest of your apartment at the bus stop."

"Okay. I know where you are."

Thunder crashed then and lightning flashed. "Hurry . . ."

"Don't move. I'll be there."

Yamato hung up and closed his phone. He knew he looked a complete mess--hair frazzled from the wind, formerly immaculate business suit completely soaked through. Coughing pitifully, he began scanning the road for headlights.

He was so tired. Maybe if he just sat down for a bit while he was waiting . . .

"Yamato! Wake up!"

Blinking blearily, Yamato sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Whazza matter?" he muttered fuzzily. "Where's the fire?"

The pale face of Jyou slowly swam into focus. He was biting his lip.

"God, Yamato, you had me so worried!" the blue-haired man said, sighing. Yamato swayed slightly and Jyou put out a hand to steady him, but then jerked it back. "You're freezing! How long have you been out here?"

Yamato blinked, thought, then held out three fingers. "About two hours."

Jyou held out his hands and bit back a flinch as his fingers grasped the clammy skin of his friend. "Let's get you home."

"Mmm." Yamato allowed himself to be helped up, not even trying to support himself. He sagged bonelessly in Jyou's arms and his sapphire eyes fluttered shut again.

"No, Yamato! Don't go to sleep!" Jyou said frantically.

"Why not?" Yamato mumbled, opening his eyes a little.

"You'll die!"

"Oh. But, Jyou--" Yamato's speech was becoming increasingly slurred. "Jyou, you'll be with me when I die, right?" His unfocused eyes pleaded with Jyou. "Won't you, Jyou?"

"Of course. But you're not gonna die yet." He picked up Yamato and carried him to the car, marveling at how light his friend was.

"You're so warm . . ." Yamato whispered, resting his head on Jyou's shoulder. "So warm . . ." His breathing shuddered once, twice, then halted.

Jyou cursed and hurried Yamato to the car, laying him across the seats. He checked Yamato's pulse, relieved to feel it--although it was light and thready--and gave him two breaths before calling the hospital. He explained the situation and was assured an ambulance would be there as soon as possible. Jyou continued rescue breathing until a voice behind him said, "Sir, the ambulance is here."

Jyou sat up and smiled at the man. "Good." With that, he fainted.

Yamato awoke feeling hot. No, cold. Wait, no, hot. No, no, definitely cold. Whatever temperature he was, he felt crappy. He sat up slowly, putting a hand to his forehead. Where was he? Looking around, he quickly surmised that he was in a hospital. If the sterile white room and collection of tubes going into his arm hadn't given it away, the smell of coffee and medicine would have.

Jyou was sitting next to him, the latest issue of "Animage" open on his lap. He was totally dead to the world.

Yamato thought back. Why couldn't he remember what had happened the night before after calling Jyou? The only answer was, he realized, aliens had come down and stolen his memory. Naturally. That would explain his Swiss-cheese memory. Or maybe not. Maybe Jyou could explain things better.

"Jyou?" he called softly.

The blue-haired man's eyes slowly opened. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, then smiled sleepily. "Mornin', Yamato. Are you feeling better?"

"Yeah, I guess so . . . What happened last night and why am I here?"

"Don't you remember?"

"Obviously not . . ."

"After you called, I came to pick you up and found you collapsed on the bench outside the bus station . . ." Jyou quickly outlined the events of the previous night. By the time he was done, Yamato looked sick.

"God, Jyou, I'm so sorry. If I'd known I was going to be so much trouble . . ."

Jyou shook his head. "Don't worry, Yamato. If you hadn't called, you would have died." He smiled. "I don't mind missing a night's sleep as much as I would have minded going to your funeral." A frown crossed the medical student's face. "But why didn't you call Taichi? You and he are together, aren't you?"

Yamato frowned. "Yeah . . . I called him after I called Takeru and Hikari. He either wasn't there or asleep or . . ."

/Or he didn't want to answer./

"You okay, Yamato?"

"Yeah, yeah, fine. I just wish I knew . . ."

Just then, the door flew open and a brunette man wearing a rumpled business suit ran in to the room.

"Yamato!" he said, obviously relieved. "I was so worried about you! Are you okay?"

Yamato's face almost literally lit up. "Taichi!"

Taichi swept Yamato into a bear hug and kissed him. Jyou, feeling a little awkward, stepped away from the happy reunion, respectfully averting his eyes.

"Um . . .I'll just be going then, 'bye . . ." Shoving his hands in his pockets, Jyou quietly exited, somehow feeling more miserable than he had the night before.

Weeks later, Yamato opened the door to his bedroom, totally beat. This latest tour had drained him completely. He wanted to fall into bed and sleep for a week. Eyelids heavy, he raked a hand through his hair and stepped in.

He froze, one hand still on his head. On his bed--no, their bed--Taichi was curled up around Koushirou. His breath came out in one sobbing gasp. The sound woke Taichi, who looked at Yamato like he didn't recognize him, then, like a lightning bolt, shot fully awake.

"Yamato!"

"So this is why you didn't answer when I called," Yamato said, voice flat. "I see now." Even though he was crying, his voice remained monotonous. Taichi felt chills go down his spine and he reached out to his lover.

"Yamato, wait, I can explain . . ."

"Why explain? I'm blonde, not blind." He turned and walked out.

Numbly, he got into the elevator and rode to the lobby. He took the keys to his motorcycle from his pocket, walked to the parking lot, got on the bike, and rode off.

While he was riding, Yamato went through the five stages of grief.

Denial . . .

/No, it was all a misunderstanding. Koushirou must have come over and took a bath and lost his clothes and Taichi was only keeping him warm./

Anger . . .

/Damn him! Damn them both! How long has this been going on behind my back?/

Self-pity . . .

/What'm I gonna do?/

Self-doubt . . .

/What could I have done better? I obviously wasn't good enough or else he never would have cheated on me./

Finally, acceptance.

/He never loved me./

I wish for happiness . . .

Jyou woke with a sense of wrongness. There was, to use the vernacular, a disturbance in the Force. He got up and went to his window.

Standing outside, leaning against a lamppost, was a tall figure. It was tossing something up and down that sometimes caught the light. It glinted silver. Curious, and more than a little worried, Jyou opened the window and leaned out far enough to catch any sound.

"Why was I such a fool? He has everything--looks, charm, money--and what do I have?" A heavy sigh. "A pretty voice. And when I'm older, that will fade. Everything will fade! I'll be left with nothing!" A choked sob. Then, quietly, the person began to sing.

Love me, love me

Say that you love me

Fool me, fool me

Go on and fool me

Love me, love me

Pretend that you love me

Tease me, tease me

Just say that you need me

I can't care 'bout anything but you . . .

"Yamato?" Jyou called softly. "Would you like to come up here? I'm sure it's much warmer."

The figure turned its head and there was a glint of teeth. "Jyou? Fancy meeting you here."

"Yeah, fancy," Jyou said, smiling. "At least it's not raining this time."

"I'll come up now, okay?"

"I'm 3-D."

Yamato slipped out from his nest beneath the lamppost, and for a second, Jyou saw his tearstained face. He wondered what could have happened to make his friend cry. Then he wisely decided to put on some pants and worry about Yamato's emotional state later.

Minutes later, Jyou let Yamato in and closed the door behind him.

"Can I get you anything?" he asked, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Coffee?"

Jyou went into the kitchen and began making coffee. "How do you like it?"

Yamato laughed a little bitterly. "I like some coffee with my sugar, thanks."

Jyou came out a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of coffee. "What's the matter?" he asked, wanting to get it out in the open. "I mean, I'm not complaining or anything, but it's not every day I get visitors at this hour."

A single, unchecked tear slid down Yamato's cheek, hesitating just one second at the tip of his chin before falling to the couch. His voice barely wavered when he spoke. "I found out why I couldn't get in touch with him that night . . . "

"Why?" Jyou asked, although he had a good idea.

"I found him sleeping with Koushirou." His eyes glittered with tears as he twisted his long, pianist's fingers in his lap. "They were just curled up all around each other, like nothing in the world could be better. I was so tired . . . then I came in and there they were--on our bed, of all places, the bed that Taichi and I have shared for years!--and I just went . . . cold . . ." He put a hand on his chest, right over his heart. His fingers were shaking. "I've gone cold, Jyou. I can't even feel my heart beating anymore." He took Jyou's thin wrist with his hand and put it on his chest. "Can you feel it?"

Jyou shook his hand from Yamato's grip and brought two fingers up to the blonde's gently pulsing jugular, where the artery was closer to the skin and easier to feel. "Yes," he said. "I can feel your heart."

"So I'm alive?"

"At the moment, yes."

"Too bad." He smiled a little. "I was hoping I'd be dead. Of course, spending eternity with a broken heart doesn't seem too great either . . ."

Jyou rested his hand on Yamato's shoulder for a second before drawing it away and picking up his coffee again. He took a sip, tilting his head slightly.

"So that's it?" he asked. "The Romance of the Century is over, just like that?" He snapped his fingers.

Yamato nodded. "Just like that . . ." he repeated vaguely. "Are things supposed to end like that, Jyou? One minute you're on top of the world, and nothing can hurt you, the next you're spiraling downward and the one you love the most is the one that shoved you . . ." He shuddered convulsively, back arching, shoulders twitching. "This isn't right. I don't know much, but I do know that."

An uncomfortable silence followed, then Jyou leaned over and turned on his radio. Yamato flinched as he heard his voice coming out of the speakers:

I wish for your love

I wish for your love

Why? Is it so that the blue star has taught me?

I wish for your love

I always want to shake off this pain

Jyou leaned forward, his blue hair obscuring his face slightly. "I know how you feel," he said finally. "It's a terrible feeling, seeing your beloved in another's arms."

Yamato cocked his head, confused by the slight change in wording. After all, he had found Koushirou in Taichi's (that rat bastard) arms. He certainly didn't love Koushirou. "When did that happen to you?"

Smirking a little, Jyou reclined and set down his coffee, tenting his fingers beneath his chin. "Well, this one time, I was sleeping, and the phone rang . . ."

By the time he was almost done, Yamato felt so incredibly guilty that he just wanted to sink into the floor, crawl under the floorboards, and die. Although Jyou had left out names, it was pretty obvious just whom he was talking about.

" . . .and then his boyfriend came in and kissed him, and I just sort of . . .sidled out." Jyou made a little 'shoo'ing motion and shrugged. "What can I say, it's all in a day's work."

"Jyou . . ." Yamato said softly, walking over to Jyou and kneeling in front of him. He cupped the young doctor's face in his hands and kissed him gently. Jyou whimpered at the sudden onslaught of sensations racing through him. Yamato shifted closer, rising and straddling Jyou's lap. Jyou grappled for purchase, finally gripping Yamato's hips like they were the only things between him and certain death. A sharp forward thrust of the hips had Jyou breaking off the kiss and moaning. Teasingly, Yamato leaned forward and nibbled at Jyou's lips, not hard enough to break the skin, but hard enough to get the desired effect of another breathless moan. He kissed the blue-haired man again, sucking lightly on his lower lip before leaning back and admiring his handiwork. Jyou's lips were swollen from the kissing and parted a little as his chest heaved with each breath he took. His eyelids were at half-mast over his slightly glazed black eyes.

"Wha . . .what was that for?" Jyou asked when he could finally speak.

Yamato smiled, but the smile was a little too sweet to be totally sincere. "Just apologizing for how badly Taichi and I treated you back at the hospital."

"If that's how you apologize, I've got a list . . ."

Yamato kissed him once more, but this time the kiss was soft. He grinned lewdly as he said, "List later. Make out now."

Jyou shrugged. "Whatever."