D. N. Angel Fan Fiction ❯ It's Not Fair ❯ Chapter 1

It's Not Fair:

 

Disclaimer: DN Angel does not belong to me. Neither does `It's Not Fair', by Lily Allen.

 

Warnings: Shounen-ai, crude humour, rather open discussion of sexual issues, AU-ish, OOC

 

“You do it!”

 

“Emiko—“

 

“Well, I very well can't, and neither can Father. How am I supposed to ask Daisuke about -“

 

“Is it really necessary? He's seventeen now, surely he can make his own decisions…”

 

“How could he?”

 

“There's no need to get so worked up—“ Kosuke stopped dead and winced as Emiko brandished the paper in his face again.

 

“No need?” She fairly shrieked. “No need? Don't you remember what that - that boy's crazy alter-ego did to you in the back of the van?” Dimly, Kosuke reflected that something about that statement sounded awfully inappropriate, though of course he didn't let it show. It would be a ridiculous show of immaturity upon his part, and would likely send Emiko into an apoplectic fit. So he closed his eyes, looked up to the ceiling and did what husbands all over the world did when confronted by their unyielding wives.

 

“Yes, dear.” Personally, he thought that it could have been worse for Daisuke, really. Being photographed kissing another boy, whilst certainly not appropriate and very ill-timed, was much better than being caught in flagrante delicto and quite frankly, he had seen married couples do much worse on the train. A peck on the lips was easier to handle than a full-blown make out session. Besides, Daisuke and Satoshi were both sensible boys, and sometimes he rather pitied the Hiwatari. In any case, he'd best let his son calm down a little; Daisuke would not be best pleased if he was interrogated after seeing the papers, and he would undoubtedly come under fire at school. High school could be so cruel, Kosuke absently thought as he returned to the comfort of the couch.

 

Two months later:

 

Kosuke had completely forgotten about the entire incident in the papers, no thanks to Emiko or anyone else in the house, for that matter. His son had sulked for at least three weeks after that, and why the dark-haired man honestly could not understand. It only made matters so much worse. Then, one evening, Daisuke called home and said that he was staying over at a friend's. Of course, it only took three tries to get him to admit that the friend was Satoshi, and Emiko immediately threw one of her fits. Kosuke himself was a little concerned, but he trusted Daisuke to do the right thing. It was, after all, highly unlikely that they would not use protection, and he doubted that either of them had some kind of disease. Nevertheless, he still walked down to the corner store the next morning, bought a pack of variety condoms and left them in Daisuke's room. His son did not talk to him for days.

 

It was Friday evening - or rather, Saturday morning. Kosuke was staying up late for once; Emiko and Daikii had gone to Kyoto for a week; Daikii was no longer as robust as he had been three years ago, and he was starting to need the services of a hospital more often than he or his daughter liked to admit. He was about to doze off on the couch when he heard the rattle of the key in the lock above the noise of the television. He stood up and stretched lazily before padding over to the door and meeting his son halfway in the small foyer. “Daisuke.”

 

The first thing he noticed about his son was that he was obviously dissatisfied. Instead of the serene smile that most people normally wore after having spent the night with their significant other, Daisuke looked a little frayed. Kosuke's eyes narrowed slightly; for the teenager to look like this, this state of affairs had obviously been going on for quite some time. Well, he would have to ask the questions soon then. He would be very disappointed if Satoshi was a selfish lover.

 

“How was your evening?”

 

“Fine,” the redhead mumbled before turning to go up to his room, cheeks tinted with a faint shade of pink at the question.

 

“Obviously not. Daisuke, you don't look like you've just come back from an enjoyable evening. You shouldn't even be back.”

 

“There's nothing wrong, dad. It's just been a long night.”

 

“Shouldn't have been.” Kosuke was a very straightforward man; although not by any stretch of the imagination naïve, he did not enjoy beating about the bush. It was one of the reasons why Emiko fell in love with him. Well, that and the white ribbon. “You're seventeen, you're an ordinary teenager now. You should be rebelling, getting hold of illicit substances and happily abusing them, having sex left right front and centre…well, maybe not the last one. Preferably not the drugs either. But definitely rebelling. You should be chewing anyone who didn't satisfy you in bed out, quite honestly.”

 

He knew that he'd gotten it right at the look on Daisuke's face. Shame, because he didn't want to admit that Satoshi was in any way inadequate in bed. Hope, because perhaps there was finally someone who understood. Worry, because sex was never something you discussed with your parents, especially whilst still living under their roof. Bewilderment, because your parents were not supposed to bring up sex either unless it was related to the birds and the bees. “Come on,” the older man told his son kindly. “I'll get some coffee, unless you want something else?”

 

“Er, yeah, that's fine.” Kosuke nodded and headed towards the kitchen.

 

Daisuke didn't know why he felt so awkward. Maybe it was because of the almost-absurdity of the situation, or perhaps he was just so tired of having to keep it all in. It wasn't as though he could really discuss his relationship with anyone; the girls wouldn't understand, and Takeshi wasn't even an option. He sat down on the sofa, glancing at the TV and smiling slightly when he realised that it was a documentary on Bernini. The smell of fresh coffee hit his nose and in spite of the late hour he could not but feel invigorated. “Thanks, dad,” he murmured, accepting his mug. Kosuke sank into one of the other, small couches and leaned back with a groan. “It's age,” the older man commented wryly.

 

Truth be told, Daisuke hadn't really paid much attention to his father lately. Now that he looked at the older man more closely, he was surprised to see the crow's feet at the corner of those kind eyes, and the slight edge to his face, now sharpened with the years. In its own, strange way, time had been kind to Kosuke Niwa; he looked slightly older but also more comfortable, as though he had grown into himself. Daisuke wondered if that had happened to him too; he knew that Dark had affected him in many ways. “Are you happy, Daisuke?” The redhead jumped and barely managed to avoid staining anything.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

Those dark eyes regarded him closely and Daisuke felt a little like a fool. Why had he tried to avoid the question like that? “I'm fine. It's…good.” Kosuke groaned and leaned back further into the armchair.

 

“Really? Then why are you coming home at-“ A quick glance at the DVD clock-“two thirty-three am?”

 

“I left some stuff here and just decided to come home…” Another look. Daisuke had never fully realised just how sharp Kosuke could be when he wanted to. Nevertheless, he stood his ground.

 

“Was it something he said?” Daisuke shook his head vehemently.

 

“No! Not at all! He's actually very kind to me. He always looks out for me, and tries to make sure that I'm fine. No matter what we do, he always puts me first. Sometimes, I think he's ignoring himself just for me, and I always try to make sure that he has fun too, but we just have different hobbies. I mean, he's already finished university, and I'm just barely starting to apply. I've seen Risa's boyfriend, and…” Daisuke trailed off, wondering if he'd said too much. Kosuke smiled and shrugged, indicating that he didn't mind if the other continued. “It's just that sometimes he says stuff that's immature. He's always making jokes about sex, and thinking about getting drunk, and it seems like every story he ever tells begins with `When So-and-So got drunk…'. Satoshi's not like that at all; he's always sensible and responsible and knows exactly how to behave and what to do.”

 

“Is it genuine?” Kosuke wondered idly whether the moon was full tonight; it always affected his behaviour a little. He would normally never be this direct.

 

“Of course!” There was no hesitation in the answer. “He's not demonstrative, but you just know that you're the focus of his attention, and that he'll always be there for you. He usually calls to check up on me, because he knows that sometimes I get a little stressed out with school, and he's always doing things just for me. I…I never have to worry that he doesn't like me, or that he's moved on because he's so honest.” Father and son nearly jumped when `Love Generation' blasted out of Daisuke's front pocket. The redhead quickly answered his phone, blushing slightly at the faint grin on Kosuke's face.

 

“Hi Satoshi, I'm fine. Yeah, I just got back in. No problems, I'm fine. I just needed a little time back home, anyways. Don't worry about it. All right, I'll see you tomorrow at the train station? Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks, goodnight. Sleep well.” He paused for a moment, letting Satoshi speak and Kosuke could tell from the other's dreamy expression that the Commander had just said `I love you', or some variation of that phrase. At that moment, if someone had told him to go back to Emiko and say that Daisuke was truly happy, he would have done so with absolutely no fuss whatsoever. But he was a father, and everyone knows that nothing is ever good enough for a father's child. So he told himself not to believe too willingly but smiled all the same when his son looked at him again.

 

“That's an interesting song.” Daisuke mumbled something incoherent and fiddled with his phone (obviously quieting it, Kosuke thought with some amusement) before tucking the machine back into his pocket. “He called to make sure you got home safely?” The redhead nodded again and took another gulp of coffee.

 

“He does it a lot.” Kosuke's eyebrow rose; someone who called `a lot' by Daisuke standards was the next closest thing to a telephone stalker. He must have done a lot more than just look surprised, because the next moment Daisuke was babbling on nervously about how Satoshi was really very nice, and always gave him adequate space and it really wasn't stalking because he knew Satoshi, and the Commander could never do such a thing, and anyway, he would have been caught by one of Emiko's traps by now if he had been skulking around in the garden, and - he stopped when Kosuke leaned back in the armchair. A quick glance at the digital clock told him that it was rather late, punctuated by his son's yawn.

 

“Well,” Kosuke said gently, seeing that there was nothing more to be gleaned from his son for now, “I think I'd best be going to bed. I'm not as young as I once was, you know.” He rose swiftly and depositing the cup in the dishwasher - it could wait until morning - he headed for the stairs. “Don't forget to turn off the lights,” he called back. He heard a `Mmm' from the general direction of the kitchen and smiling to himself, he went to bed.

 

A week later:

 

This really has to stop, Kosuke idly reflected as he switched to yet another channel. Daisuke had been coming home at irregular hours with singular regularity lately, and he could not stop wondering whether Satoshi was really good enough for his son. As his father used to say, there were only two reasons a teenage boy came home after calling to say that he would be out late or at a friend's house: 1) He was too drunk to stand or remember his own name or 2) He wasn't getting any. Since there was no smell of alcohol, and Daisuke showed none of the customary signs of recreational drug use (Kosuke shuddered to even think of his son doing anything of the sort), it would have to be the latter. As he watched the Discovery Channel, he reflected that he was getting rather perverted in his old age; surely not all parents wondered about their children's sex lives like he did? Perhaps it was a remnant of the nights where he and Dark would go out drinking, and Dark would inevitably discuss what would happen `when Daisuke grew up'. The kaitou really did have too much time on his hands, and it was now rubbing off on him! Disgruntled, Kosuke pushed at one of the little tasselled cushions away and it landed on the floor with an audible thump. He bent over and groaned as his back stretched and joints popped, and then - “Dad?”

 

BANG! Cursing under his breath, Kosuke clumsily reached for the cushion with his right hand and cradled his head with the left, forgetting that he was still holding a mug of hot lemon tea in the latter. “Crap,” he mumbled under his breath. “Good job son,” he continued to mutter resentfully. “Sneak up on your old man, why don't you.”

 

“It's not fair!” Something in Daisuke's voice made him peer up from underneath the table and he was astonished to see that his son was as red as a tomato, but certainly not from embarrassment. In fact, he would be willing to bet that Daisuke was, in fact, a little tipsy. Tipsy enough to turn red in the face and say more than he probably ought to, but not so much so that he was close to passing out. Then a small tendril of anger made its way through him. Had Satoshi done this? How could he? Fighting back the urge to hunt the other down and ask just why he'd let Daisuke come home by himself, slightly less than sober, he patted the seat next to him and glanced regretfully at the stain in his sweater. That would take a while to come out. Emiko wouldn't be pleased, but then again, if she knew half of what he did (or rather, didn't do) about Daisuke and Satoshi's relationship, she would likely hit the roof.

 

“Daisuke, what's wrong?” Kosuke didn't bother trying to put Daisuke to bed; the other was likely fine for the time being. This knowledge didn't stop him from getting the other a glass of water from the kitchen, and bringing a plastic bag in just in case Daisuke decided to regurgitate his food.

 

“Only one thing…” The redhead's eyes were slightly glazed over. “Only one thing…he's sh-t in the sack.” Kosuke blinked and then looked heavenwards. Why couldn't Dark be here when you needed him?

 

“What do you mean? Is he hurting you?”

 

“Mmmm he's always…” Daisuke struggled with the words for a moment, “always so fast.” The older man stared. What? “It's like…you're both really excited about it, and it's really such a shame. He's always taking care of me, and it's not like he intends to, but every time we do it, I'll be just starting and suddenly he'll make this noise and everything's…just, over.” Then a pout. “He's so mean! That's what it is, mean! And selfish! And rude!” Perhaps his son was drunker than he'd originally thought, Kosuke dimly thought. Surely Daisuke would never say such a thing, even when slightly tipsy? Calm down, he told himself sternly. You could be wrong. It might be something else, and you should clean out your mind. “It really sucks. I mean, it happens every time we get started! We'll just be lying there, touching each other, and then—“ Kosuke immediately decided that it was time to put his son to bed. Surely all that alcohol couldn't be good for him?

 

Note to self, Kosuke thought wryly as he crawled into bed, Be prepared for the answers that you may receive in your quest for knowledge. Although really, `quest' was not a word that should be used in conjunction with his…search for information. He could not shake the feeling that he had just done something morally reprehensible, although he knew that Emiko would not hesitate to do the same thing were she in his place.

 

The next morning, father and son both acted as though nothing had happened the previous night. Being slightly more lax about morning routines, Kosuke did not bother climbing up to Daisuke's bedroom. “Breakfast!” He hollered from the kitchen, and that was it. Naturally, it took a little more than just that to wake the redhead up, and it was five minutes to seven when he dashed downstairs and out of the door in a blur. Kosuke chuckled and continued reading the paper, suddenly thankful that some things still hadn't changed from the first time he'd come home and met Daisuke.

 

Daisuke gave a silent sigh of relief as he boarded the train. He remembered exactly what he'd been saying last night, although under the influence of alcohol it appeared that he could not control his mouth. He was only thankful that he'd said…those things…to his father and not Satoshi. He flushed crimson to the roots of his hair when, unbidden, the memory of what he and Satoshi had been doing before that thing happened. He recalled the look of shock and embarrassment on the other's face the first time it had happened, and he'd just laughed it off and reassured the other. They were both healthy, happy teenage boys, so there should be no further problems after the first few times. Then it happened again. And again. And again. Daisuke Niwa might be patient, sweet-tempered and not have a mean bone in his body, but even he was not impervious to disappointment in the bedroom department.

 

He got to school just in time to slip into his seat unnoticed; just the way he needed it to be. As usual, Satoshi was already in his place at the front of the class, but gave no sign that he had noticed the redhead enter the classroom. However, at about half-past nine according to the big, round clock on the wall, a paper ball landed on his desk. He blinked; surely they were all past the age of passing notes in such an obvious manner. The teacher droned on, and the redhead immediately decided that he would not miss anything by simply tuning out for another two minutes. It wasn't as though he'd been listening for the past half-hour, after all. He un-crumpled the little scrap of white to find just one word, written in Satoshi's neat hand and a small doodle in the corner. `Sorry?' The little doodle, surprisingly substandard for an artist of Satoshi's calibre, was of a puppy with its ears flopped downwards, he supposed. Was the other boy trying to be cute, or what? An inconspicuous glance upwards told him nothing that he didn't already know.

 

“Niwa-kun, name the four Asian tigers if you please.” What? They were going through the homework already? Surely time had not passed by that quickly.

 

“Um…” Daisuke fumbled through his folder, all-too-aware of the teacher's growing impatience. A dull flush began to creep over his neck and he forced himself to remain calm as he shuffled through sheets. Come on, he thought desperately, you finished it at Satoshi's, remember? But the elusive sheets were nowhere to be found.

 

“Never mind. Misono-kun?” Just then, Daisuke managed to extract his homework and sighed in relief. The rest of the class passed quietly, but the redhead got the distinct feeling that Satoshi was a little worried. He sighed and braced himself for the inevitable `talk' that would ensue once they were away from prying eyes. Did girls ever have to put up with this sort of thing?

 

“Look, I'm really”-swallow-“sorry. About last night.” Satoshi looked down at his shoes, uncertainty and embarrassment written all over his frame. Even his shoulders seemed to sag with apology. Of course, all this was lost of Daisuke, who was still blinking in shock. Well, Emiko had always said that confrontation was the best way of solving things. Hash it all out immediately and whatnot. The direct approach, the redhead could not but wryly think. That was a new one. Normally they just never spoke of it, with Satoshi doing his best again and failing miserably. It figured, the redhead thought. Everyone was flawed. There was no denying it. “Dai?” He looked up to see Satoshi staring at him with those big, kicked-puppy eyes and not for the first time that morning he felt a twitch of irritation. Where the hell does he get off, anyway? He thought somewhat resentfully before cringing at the terrible and completely unintentional pun. “Is it…okay?” Could this little scenario get any more clichéd?

 

No, he imagined himself growling for once. No, it's not okay, you selfish prick. Have you ever heard me tell you that it was great, voluntarily? It's really not okay, and I think you're an ass for leaving me there and finishing on your own. Then he took another look at that handsome face, brow creased with anxiety and he took a deep breath. “Yeah,” he heard himself say. He forced a smile. “It doesn't really matter.” Yes it does. It does matter, thank you very much.

 

He went home after that. Much to his surprise, his father was not at home this time. However, there was a small plate of snacks waiting for him on the table. Snagging one, he munched on the treat happily, already feeling better.

 

At around five o'clock, half-way through Japanese Literature, he heard the door open and shut again. He heard footsteps on the stairs, and then a knock at the door. “Daisuke?”

 

“Come in.” Come in? When had he started saying that?

 

Kosuke poked his head around the door, a slight smile on his face. “I just got back. Do you want anything to eat?”

 

“I'm okay.” The other smiled and nodded before leaving Daisuke once more to his own devices. The redhead blinked and returned to work, slightly annoyed although why he could not say.

 

Dinner was a quiet, simple affair. Instead of Emiko's lavish, three-course meals worthy of a five-star hotel restaurant, two plates of food and two bowls filled with rice sat on the table. Daisuke smiled at the slightly-singed vegetables and the darker-than-usual meat, but finished his meal anyway. “Are you going over to Satoshi's tonight?”

 

Such a question was abrupt, to say the least. He nearly dropped his chopsticks and flushed as he looked at those kind eyes. “Um…I'm not sure.” Why was he saying this? Stupid, stupid Daisuke, he berated himself quietly. Now Dad was going to ask all sorts of awkward questions, and he'd be forced to answer them honestly, because Kosuke could spot a liar from halfway across the world and because he'd never been very good at that sort of thing anyway.

 

“Oh.”

 

Bastard. For the first time in his life, Daisuke resented his father's incurious manner. Even when he was dying of curiosity to know what had transpired between him and Satoshi (well, who wasn't?), he still managed to make the question sound like an off-the-cuff question rather than a carefully calculated approach. Was this some kind of new approach now covered in the latest edition of `Parenting for Dummies' or something? `Give your child some space' stuff?

 

Contrary to Daisuke's thoughts, Kosuke had no such plot up his sleeve. A straightforward man by nature, he genuinely thought that letting his son bring up the subject first would be the best way to handle the situation. After all, he was sure that Daisuke would not appreciate him repeating information gleaned from his drunken ramblings of last night, and prying was a nasty habit.

 

“Just ask already.” Bemused dark eyes met crimson ones, and Kosuke looked in surprise at the young man before him. Since when had Daisuke become a rebel? He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd expected this little chat to be difficult, but not this difficult. Had Kei Hiwatari found this just as hard? Then again, Satoshi was a totally different breed. He wished Emiko were here. She'd know how to handle Daisuke.

 

“What do you want me to ask?” At the look of utter exasperation on his son's face, Kosuke resisted the urge to roll his own eyes in return. It wasn't exactly easy asking about your child's sex life, much less whether the boyfriend was any good in bed. “Wait `til you get to my age,” he muttered under his breath. “Well,” he said defensively at the dark look on the other's features, “you don't seem to answer questions unless you're drunk!” How did he get so cranky? It was age, Kosuke firmly decided before shoving the unpleasant thoughts away for later perusal. Right now, he had a teenaged, rebellious son to deal with. “Are you two arguing right now?”

 

“Yes!” The answer was thrown at him. “He's just…he's absolutely lousy in bed!” Of course, this came as no surprise to Kosuke, and he braced himself for the full brunt of Daisuke's frustration.

 

“And?”

 

A venomous glance was directed his way, but Kosuke simply shrugged it off. Although he rarely saw this side of his son, he supposed that it had always been there. That old adage about redheads and hot tempers must be true after all, he thought somewhat ruefully. It had just taken Daisuke longer to find his. “He's too fast.” Well, it wasn't really anything that Kosuke had never heard before. He took a deep breath.

 

“Premature ejaculation is an unfortunate problem that usually results in one partner climaxing before the other—“

 

“Dad!”

 

At least he didn't stammer and go red at the climaxing part this time. Who on earth wrote that text, anyway?

 

“That's not the point! The point is that he's just being selfish in bed!”

 

“Yes, I would imagine so.” The theatrics were really getting to him, Kosuke dimly reflected. A dry tone was generally not recommended for frustrated teenagers when they were discussing `things that really mattered'. Why hadn't that parenting guide Emiko had made him read before coming back from Europe mentioned anything about this sort of situation? All it had really said on the subject of sex consisted of abstinence and `Quotable Statistics to Deter Teenagers from Having Sex'. Kosuke sighed and shifted on the chair, getting into a comfortable position. “You feel that he's being…” Come on, active listening, active listening. “He's being selfish in bed?” Oh, very intelligent, Kosuke. That sounded incredibly wise, understanding and knowledgeable. Any other words of wisdom today? In any case, Daisuke did not seem to notice this sudden parroting of his words as he continued ranting about his boyfriend. The dark-haired man got the distinct impression that this had been a long time in the making.

 

“It's just not fair,” Daisuke moaned. “He'll just be happily pounding away, completely ignoring me, and then I'll start to feel good, and he just groans and that'll be it. It's absolutely ridiculous.” Kosuke would have been all right listening to this, except for the part where Daisuke mentioned `pounding'. Then he realised that he was sorely lacking one, large gap in his knowledge. It was really rather disconcerting. And yes, all right, hearing his little boy (because really, no one ever grows up in their parents' eyes) say those crude words made him feel just slightly uncomfortable.

 

“Uh…”

 

Those burning ruby orbs turned to him once again, their owner clearly fed-up with the interruption. “What?”

 

Kosuke Niwa could not stop the sheepish smile from spreading over his face. “Um…pounding?”

 

“Dad.” With that one word, Daisuke stormed upstairs in huff, no doubt to draw something. Just as well. Kosuke sorely needed to read up on that area of knowledge. Thank goodness some genius had invented the Internet.

 

Three hours and twenty-seven minutes later, Kosuke fervently hoped his son appreciated all this effort. It had taken all his willpower not to run away screaming after seeing the first website; and he was still slightly squeamish just thinking about the mechanics of gay sex. Plus, he now saw Dark's enigmatic comment (`You're the only man who's ever been inside of me!') in a whole new light. Ugh. In any case, for better or for worse, he was now sufficiently equipped to deal with his son's problems. “Daisuke?” He called up the stairs. There was no answer. Perhaps his son had walked out in the middle of his…reading? Well, no matter. He'd be around for a while yet, so they could always resume this conversation. Although, truth be told, he just wanted to get it out of the way.

 

Daisuke:

 

I can't believe he did that! It was unclear whether he was thinking about Satoshi, or his father. Another wave of embarrassment washed over the redhead as he thought about what he'd said to Kosuke earlier. With a growl, he hurled himself off the bed and began furiously attacking his German homework. He did not want to think about anything any longer.

 

Two weeks later, Daisuke found himself in Satoshi's bedroom. He groaned and shifted uncomfortably, wondering just when the blue-haired youth had turned into a bed hog. He could have at least moved me out of the wet patch, he thought somewhat resentfully. He winced again and stretched his jaw a little; it would definitely be sore tomorrow if this feeling right now was anything to go by. He sighed at the thought of another long night without any relief and slowly rolled out of bed. The most he could really do, now, he thought wryly, was take things into his own hands.

 

As he washed his hands at the sink, he wondered whether he was really just overreacting. It wasn't as though Satoshi was a bad person, or went out of his way to ignore him. In fact, the blue-haired young man did everything but neglect him. When he'd been working at that awful art gallery last summer, the Commander had stopped by every day to drop off strawberry tarts, or some sweet treat. Whenever Daisuke was feeling sick, Satoshi would show up at his house regardless of the glares that Emiko and Towa shot him, and would stay in his room until it was time to go home. Compared to just this one thing - he shuddered at the memory of Kosuke talking about premature ejaculation - maybe it really wasn't so bad.

 

“Daisuke?” He was surprised to see that Satoshi had woken up so quickly. Normally, the other slept like the dead, and took forever to wake up because of his low blood pressure.

 

“Hey.” He mustered up a small smile at the other, who stumbled to the sink and gently leaned on him. “Awake already?” A pair of arms wrapped around his shoulders, but Daisuke did not know whether to push them away or not. He sighed and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. He felt those thin lips curve up slightly against the crook of his neck and smiled in response.

 

“Mmhm. You look happy.”

 

Daisuke did not reply. He was glad that Satoshi was happy; it was not in his nature to begrudge the other anything. “We should do something tomorrow. I'm completely free.” The redhead felt a small glow of pleasure spread through him as he thought of a day spent together. He really was overreacting to this one little thing, he thought. Satoshi wasn't a bad person, or selfish, or anything. He felt a sting of shame as he remembered exactly what he had said to his father the night they'd argued.

 

“Sure.”

 

Three days later, Daisuke no longer cared about how shallow, selfish or silly he sounded. It was awful. No matter how many times he and Satoshi `practiced', nothing ever changed in the bedroom. It was as though a bubble of resentment had nestled in his chest and every time he thought about the blue-haired young man, he could only think of all the nights of dissatisfaction he had faced - and surely would face if their relationship was to continue like this. He took another peek into the plastic bag from the bookstore, skimming over the brightly coloured phrases. “Make it last!” The bold lettering read. A small box of `extra thick' condoms rested alongside the magazine, and in spite of himself Daisuke blushed. Well, the stuff he had read on the Internet about how to prevent a partner from climaxing too early claimed that thicker condoms could lower sensitivity, leading to better endurance. Daisuke sincerely hoped this would work; otherwise, he would be at a loss for what to do.

 

“Hi, Dai-chan!” His mother chirped as she opened the door for him. “Did you do your errands?” He nodded and handed over the shopping bag with the fish fillets in it, making sure to keep the bag with the bookstore logo on it discreet. His mother would surely want to know what he had bought, and he knew that she would not approve of his choice of reading material. Deep down, she was probably disappointed that he did not like girls that way; after all, she probably did want a bouncing grandchild or two. Most families usually did, and whilst he was perfectly happy with Satoshi, he would have liked to have a chance at raising his own family. Perhaps they could adopt? The thought shocked him far less than it should have; spending the rest of his life with the Commander merely seemed like a natural progression of events.

 

He knew it was absolutely ridiculous to blush over such a trivial thing, especially when he'd done most of the things listed (he turned bright red as soon as this realisation entered his head), but there was just something...frightening about reading Cosmopolitan. He'd better appreciate this, Daisuke thought fiercely before turning back to the brightly coloured pages.

 

The next time he stayed over at Satoshi's, he tried every single tip listed in the magazine. At least, he attempted to. Unfortunately, he only made it to tip number three before he heard a sudden groan above him and the older boy's body shuddered hard underneath him. At first, Daisuke thought it was some kind of joke. Then he was presented with irrefutable evidence of what had just transpired, and he could no longer hold it in. First he let out a small giggle. Then it turned into full-blown gales of laughter that would have woken anyone else in the house. Thankfully, there was no one else around.

 

“What's so funny?”

 

In retrospect, the whole thing read like a badly penned chick-flick, with the tagline being, `It Gets Worse.' At least, that was what he thought it could have been. “It's nothing,” he gasped. It was as though all his frustration and resentment had turned into immature giggles at the other's expense. He did not even want to continue anymore; just stare at Satoshi and laugh himself sick.

 

Then the shouting began. Daisuke was not normally one for arguments, but he knew how to stand up for himself. In the course of said argument, many things were said in the heat of the moment, both teenagers lashing out and trying to defend their positions. Of course, the argument was centred on one issue but like a greedy wildfire in a dry forest, and many other hurtful things were said. When Satoshi finally curled into a small ball on the left side of the bed (never could change it up, Daisuke thought spitefully) and pretended to go to sleep, the redhead hastily pulled on his jeans and shirt and left.

 

“We were just, um, playing the bagpipes, and then he….honked, and I…just…snapped.” Kosuke did not think he had ever heard a sorrier story. There really was only one thing his brain could process at this hour of the night, and unfortunately he did not think to stop himself from saying it.

 

“Playing the bagpipes? Is that what they're calling it these days?”

 

Daisuke stormed off in a huff and Kosuke stared blearily up the stairs at his son's retreating back. Thank goodness I'm not a teenager anymore, he thought as he returned to bed.

 

“Dai-chan! What are you doing still up? Why are you dressed in outdoor clothes?” Kosuke wondered whether he could possibly squeeze a twenty-second catnap in before dealing with his wife and son.

 

The next morning was undoubtedly the most impressive display of passive-aggression Kosuke had ever seen in his life. Even asking for another piece of toast became some sort of campaign, mother and son waging a silent war over who would get it. Ordinarily, Emiko would immediately dash over to the machine and stick another slice of bread in, but this morning she was unusually bent on teaching Daisuke how to be independent. His son, on the other hand, was doing his best impression of a sloth. First he refused to change. Then he did not want to help Daikii get the new pot of jam from the cupboard. Then he did not want to wash the dishes, or even bring them to the kitchen. Kosuke beat a hasty retreat to the comfort of the study, silently apologising to Daikii for leaving him amidst what appeared to be some sort of important battle.

 

The situation lasted for an entire week, until Kosuke finally decided to take matters into his own hands. Whilst at first amusing, things had now degenerated into some sort of privacy war, with Emiko raiding Daisuke's room at all hours and, he was quite sure, violating certain terms of the Geneva Convention. Or something like that. Either way, it was a gross invasion of privacy and after seeing the box of condoms, he figured it was time to put an end to this nonsense. There was only so much brain damage he could handle, after all, and Daisuke was old enough to make his own decisions now.

 

He waited until everyone was out of the house, and then he picked up the phone. Satoshi picked up after three rings. “Hello?”

 

“Hi, Hiwatari-kun,” he said in his most pleasant voice. “I was just wondering if you'd like to have a coffee with me, perhaps sometime later this week? I have something I need to ask you.” After extracting a somewhat reluctant acquiescence from the other party, Kosuke leaned back in his chair and sighed. Well, he reflected, it was about time he gave Satoshi a thorough grilling. After all, he was willing to bet that the Commander had never `met the parents', and that was practically a rite of passage these days.

 

Saturday afternoon:

 

Well, this was certainly a lot more awkward than expected, Kosuke thought. Apart from the fact that he was conducting this meeting wholly behind his entire family's back, he was about to ask the younger man some very personal questions. And give him some very personal advice. “Niwa-san?” It was Satoshi. Kosuke examined him closely; business suit. Good quality, but a little shabby from long use. Strange, that; Kei Hiwatari was never one to tarnish his own image. Perhaps the son had finally broken away? Kosuke decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and smiled back. “I hope you haven't been waiting too long.”

 

So he suspected that this could get messy. Good. Smart enough for his boy. “Is Daisuke all right?” Not smart enough to tell that Kosuke meant business.

 

“Come on then, let's go inside.” He nodded at the waiter, who showed them to a small table nxt to one of the full-length glass windows. “What would you like to drink?”

 

“Black coffee, please. I'll pay for it, Niwa-san.”

 

“No, don't worry about the bill. I invited you, so it's only fair that I should pay.”

 

“But…”

 

“I insist.” There. Firm, but still polite enough to show that his offer was genuine. Kosuke was not completely devoid of sympathy; in fact, he still remembered his first time meeting Daikii, and how worried he'd been. Of course, he was not here to take it easy on Satoshi. Anyone who made his boy unhappy would sorely regret it. “So, I hear you and Daisuke have been going through…a rough patch recently.”

 

Satoshi balked and for a moment, Kosuke imagined he could see a pink flush on those pale cheeks. Then the other composed himself once more, expression unreadable. “I don't know what you're talking about. Daisuke and I are fine. I saw him yesterday at the library.”

 

At that moment, Kosuke was sure of two things. Firstly, that Satoshi wanted this to be over as much as he did. Secondly, the kid was an awful liar. He sighed and prepared himself for the long haul. I bet nothing in that parenting handbook says anything about this situation.

 

Hi everyone! I know I have loads of unfinished stories sitting around, and I will eventually get around to them, but this line just grabbed me by the scruff of the neck demanding to be written. Thanks for reading and have a very merry Christmas and a happy new year!