Notes:: This is an AU (alternate universe) where the digimon aren't included. Sorry if that just KILLS the story for anyone, but it's just how I wrote this.. It's also a shounen ai fic, meaning "boys love." If the idea of two guys getting all lovey and sappy irks you, please don't read this. Rating of PG-13 (or T) is for some language, and general themes.

Disclaimer:: I didn't make Digimon, didn't create any of the characters, and I'm not making a red cent by writing this. Sue, and you get a room full of anime crap, some dogs, and a pair of fuzzy slippers. I own nothing.

…with that finished, on with the story.. ;;

-Sleeping- Chapter 1: Dozing

You can tell a lot about a person from how they sleep. You can tell a lot about a person's financial status from where they sleep. Take me, for example. I, being the royalty that I am, sleep in a teeny apartment, on a mattress.

On the floor.

My feet hang off the edge, if I stretch out.

What does that make me? A poor guy named Ishida Yamato whose bed is too small. My bed wasn't always too small, though. There was a time when I was shorter, and my life wasn't near as bad as it's gotten.

High school was better. I was a hot guy in a teen band, with too much attitude, and whole little group of friends. I was on my way to being a rock star - everything was perfect. And I had Tai. For as far back as I cared enough to remember, Tai had been my best friend. We laughed together, has class together, skipped class together, and occasionally got a nasty little bug up our asses and beat the crap out of each other. I can't say he was like a brother, because I have one, and Tai was nothing like that. And at the ripe age I was, with girls fawning all over me, never once did I stop and think, Hey, maybe I'm gay. Which I have long since considered. But had I thought about it back then, maybe Tai would've been something more than a best friend. I doubt it, though, seeing as how he already meant the world to me.

I rode the teen rock star wave until almost a full year after graduation. Then, my band died, and as far as anybody knew, so did I. My dad, saint that he is, let me bum around for a couple of months before throwing me out. And that's how I've ended up in my glorified closet of an apartment. I haven't heard from my dad, my brother Takeru, or Yagami Taichi in over a year. In fact, I haven't heard from much of anyone. Must have something to do with not having a phone. But, if I got one, it would only be a phone that doesn't ring.

It's not like I've been completely lonely, though. I've had my share of lady friends – and more recently, male ones. Mostly people I meet at work. You get some interesting ones at the two-bit diner I wait tables for. Delightfully christened "The Diner," it's where I've worked since my dad kicked me to the curb. Not a bad place. The pay's not so hot, but it's a job.

And that's where Friday found me; serving single moms with too many kids, and truck drivers with weird accents. The dinner rush starts at 5 PM, it's the busiest time of the day, if you can call it that. Even at our busiest, there are still five or six tables open. Four long hours later, the rush is over and the Diner's completely empty again. I wander back to the kitchen, and hoist myself up on one of the counters. The new cook, I think his name is Touya, is cute enough, and easy to chat up. Just when things start getting interesting, we're interrupted.

"Ishida, table three." The hostess calls, handing me a tray with a pot of coffee, a cup, and a few sugar packets. I look over my shoulder to glance at Touya, and he gives me a wink. I manage a little smile at him, muttering darkly to myself. Table three only has one occupant, thank heaven, and from the logo on the back of his jacket, a Uni kid. I place the tray down on the table, and dig in my pocket for a pad and pencil, not even bothering to glance at the customer. All the Uni kids are the same, anyway. At length, I pull both out, and push my hair out of my eyes distractedly. Time for another haircut…

"Hi, my name's Yama, and…" Staring up at me out from under messy brown hair is an all-too-familiar pair of honey-colored eyes. He's a little taller, not as scrawny, and someone tried to tame his hair, but it's unmistakable. Yagami Taichi, my best friend. He looks better than I remember.

Speaking of remembering, I seem to be the only one doing any of that, judging by the expectant look on his face. It just figures.

"…and I'll be your waiter. What'll you have?" Higher than I would've hoped.

"Ah, I'll have a hot fudge sundae, please." With a slightly embarrassed smile, he folds up the menu and pushes it towards me.

"Mmhmm, coming right up." I scribble his order down, biting my lip to keep from smiling, and walk away with the menu.

"You mean the same Tai you're still head-over-heels for?!" Rena, the hostess, is having a fit over this. Cursing myself for mentioning it at all, I nod.

"And you didn't SAY anything?!" She shrieks. I snort at that, leaning against the wall.

"He didn't even recognize me, Ren…"

"Well, you do look different from when you first got here…" She studies me critically. "Taller, for sure, and you've put on a little muscle… hair's longer.. C'mon, Yama-chan, even I wouldn't think you're the same person…"

"That's not the point!" I snap defensively. "He should… know." She pats me on the arm sympathetically.

"Aw, it's okay, Yama-chan… Maybe he thinks it's you, but thinks that you don't think that you know it's him, so he doesn't want to embarrass you!" I give her an odd look, not entirely sure what she's going on about, but thankful for the sympathy.

"Yeah…" I saw awkwardly.

The bell rings, and Touya's holding out the tray to me, glowering. Ugh, caught; he must've heard us talking. I take the tray, flashing him an apologetic smile, and hurry out of the kitchen. A second later, I hear Rena's cackling laughter, and cringe. She won't let me alone about this for a while. I take a breath, try vainly to get the hair out of my eyes, and approach table number three.

As I'm unloading his dessert, and sneaking little looks at him, I find that he's remarkably unchanged. Still wearing his emotions right out in the open, for anyone to see, not a guarded bone in his body. Now his eyes shine with delight, and surprise – probably over the fast service – and it's terribly endearing, seeing his face light up like that. And it tugs on the few heartstrings I'm still holding onto that he doesn't know me. It hurts, and aches, and suddenly, I don't want to be there anymore.

"Anything else, Tai-kun?" I say quickly, looking for a fast getaway, and not remembering that he's a stranger to me. His expression falls to one of utter disbelief, and his eyes fly up to meet mine. We both go completely still, and in the staring silence, I catch a glimmer, just a faint trace, of something resembling recognition in his transparent gaze. It's not much, but it's there, and it gives me a little bit of hope. But it is he who breaks out spell, his eyes going even wider.

"H… how do you know my name?" A tense moment passes before I realize he's talking to me, and then my gaze is flitting around the table, trying to find a way out of this. My eyes fall on the spiral-bound book in front of him.

"It… it's on your notebook." I mutter, indicating it.

"Oh… right!" He doesn't look convinced at all. "Well, this is great, thanks…" He squints to read my miniscule writing on the nametag sticker I wear. "Yama-kun!" He smiles again, and nods me a goodbye, digging into his now-melty sundae

Fifteen minutes later, he's up at the bar, holding an empty sundae glass, and patiently waiting. He's looking elsewhere when I come out and try to take it from him, and doesn't let go. I pull a little insistently, and clear my throat to get his attention. Tai jumps, and I jump in response, our fingers brushing in the process. The contact is electric to me, and as soon as he relinquishes his hold on the glass, I backpedal to the sink, my eyes never once leaving his. He looks sheepish, and laughs nervously.

"Sorry…" I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile, and turn to place the glass in the great galvanized sink. I'm about to tell him that he didn't have to bring it, when he speaks first.

"Do you… have anything to… to drink?" Stupidly, I assume things I used to know about him are true.
"Like milk? Water? Tea?" I ask, turning and walking toward the refrigerator case.

"Ah… no…" He's embarrassed. "I mean, uh… alcohol." I take a second to blink. Yagami Taichi, asking for alcohol. What would his mother say?

"Oh." Is all I manage.

"But um… I don't really know what to… get." He smiles through a flaming blush. "Anything you'd recommend?" Mechanically, I nod, and ask for his ID, which he hands over hurriedly. The student ID says he's old enough, so I give it back and start mixing a drink up for him, talking over my shoulder.

"You probably don't want sake, it's bitter… I'm making something western for you, it's called a screwdriver." I push the mixed drink down the bar to him. He eyes it warily before sipping. The face he pulls is a mixture of disgust and delight.

"Tastes like… orange juice…" Keen of him to taste that perfectly. "…and paint thinner…" I suppress a smile, and wait. He takes a longer drink this time.

"I like it!"

It takes two more of the mixed concoctions before he speaks again.

"I study too much." His words are a little slow, and I'm not sure if he's talking to me, until he looks up from his third drink and smiles lopsidedly in my direction. "I never just hand around with friends anymore… My old friends don't go to my same school…" I watch him silently, drying a glass. For a spell, the only sound comes from the squeak of the towel. Then, Tai speaks again.

"I used to have a best friend… Ishida." He smiles sadly. "That's what the teachers called him when he was in trouble…" He's looking directly at me now. "We used to get yelled at, all the time… but I guess we deserved it, we were kinda bad." He looks away, pensively studying the slowly swirling liquid before him. "He just left, one day." He mutters. "I didn't even get to say goodbye." I don't trust myself to speak, so I only nod, and wince when he does, after he knocks back the better part of his drink. He extends the mostly empty glass to me, and I oblige his unspoken request, glad that he paid already.

He nurses this one much longer, and over the next hour, I watch my former best friend drink away his sorrow. My shift if nearly over by the time Taichi finally loses consciousness, slumped over the bar.

"Real smart, Yagami." I growl to his unresponsive ears. "Drink until you pass out." As I hang my apron up, I glance at the clock. Quarter 'til 11. They'll forgive me if I skip out early. With all my end-of-shift duties done, I come around the counter, and lift the limp boy off his barstool. He's so light, no wonder he said he'd been studying too hard. I wonder for a crazed second if he eats at all.

"Rena!" I call as I pass the kitchen. "Going home early. See ya Monday." I hurry out before she can reply, and start the short walk to my flat. My burden remains well and thoroughly unconscious the entire way.

Upon arrival, I shift his entire weight to one arm, and let myself in. When I lay him down on my "bed," he curls up against himself, making him appear far small than he is. He doesn't stand a chance of having any part of him hang off the edge of it anyway, curled up or not. I lay out a spare blanket on the floor next to the bed for myself, and turn off the lamp. The room is bathed in yellow from the streetlight outside the window, and the last thing I see before I lay down to sleep is a picture on my nightstand. It's of Tai and I, taken in our senior year. We've got our arms looped around each other's shoulders, smiling cheesily for the camera. It's the only picture I ever bothered to frame, at Tai's insistence that we each have one. And all I can think, as I look at Taichi curled up on my bed, is how much things have changed.