Just a quick little ficlet devoted to a few certain people for putting up with me so well. Namely the Jyouri ML. I love you all!! Err, anyway, this is a sort of illustration that not every relationship can go smoothly all the time…but a really good couple will get through it. I'd say Yama and Jyou are in college by this point and they're CERTAINLY sharing an apartment.

Let It Be

"Yamato…you went through my papers, didn't you?" Jyou mustered his deadliest glare and stood in the doorway of their living room, hands on his hips and legs planted firmly in a pose that clearly said 'no nonsense'. Yamato looked up from where he was reading the paper with practiced disinterest and confusion.

"Don't tell me Mr. Clean has actually misplaced something!" He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Then, as almost an afterthought. "Hey, Superman, you forgot to take off your glasses."

Jyou hastily adopted a different pose. Still, the glare-of-death remained.

"And what was that supposed to mean?!" Jyou asked.

"Well, the way you were standing, and the hands on your hips just kinda reminded me of—"

"Not that! The Mr. Clean bit." Jyou clarified testily.

"Just that from the way you act sometimes makes it fairly clear it must be pretty painful living with a slob like me." Yamato shot back. "I'm twenty years old, I don't need a lecture on where the utensils go in the kitchen. Besides, I'm the one who's spending all the time in there! You don't have to treat me like a two year old just because you're a year older than me!!"

Jyou glowered, stress still evident from last night. He hadn't gotten much sleep because after their little tiff, Yamato had refused to sleep in the same bed, leaving Jyou all alone in their king-sized monster. Most of the night had been spent trying to grope for Yamato to pull him closer. Then when he would figure out there was no Yamato, he would bolt half-awake until he recalled their argument from earlier in the evening.

"If you really DID know how to put the utensils back, then I wouldn't have to remind you!" Jyou found himself responding by stalking over to tear the newspaper from his lover's hands and returning Yamato's angry stare.

"Why does this matter so much?!" Yamato protested, throwing his arms up dramatically for emphasis.

"Because you're a complete and utter jerk!!" Jyou exclaimed.

"Well, at least I'm not an anal-retentive jerk!" Yamato quickly responded. Jyou sighed hotly, folding his arms across his bare chest. Living with Yamato had certainly relaxed his wardrobe; thanks to him, he had discovered the joys of a comfortable pair of blue jeans. And, it seemed, Yamato also fully appreciated the joys of Jyou in nothing but a pair of comfortable blue jeans. At least, when they weren't in the middle of a fight…

The straw that broke the proverbial camel's back was when Yamato picked up the newspaper again and quickly buried his nose once again, ignoring the look upon Jyou's face as he stomped back to the bedroom the two of them shared. The abrupt slamming of the door reverberated through the apartment like a small magnitude earthquake.

Yamato peeked over the edge of the newspaper before sighing and throwing it down on the floor. He hadn't even been reading it, and now he regarded it with a menacing look, as if it was somehow to blame for the current discord in their relationship. He then ran his hand through his hair and let his breath go in a small sigh.

Honestly, he loved Jyou. He really did. It was just…sometimes Jyou went overboard when it came to neatness. He liked everything in a certain place when it came to organizing papers…or books…or kitchen utensils. Yamato never had lived like that, and just couldn't seem to adjust to Jyou's need for order.

Although… He took a glance in the direction of the kitchen. Jyou did kind of have a point. It was a bit difficult to find things when there was no rhyme or reason to the room. Too often as of late, he had found himself annoyed as he searched thorough their cabinets to find some wayward utensil.

He still didn't need a thirty-minute lecture, though.

He means well. Yamato's concience dug at him. He doesn't mean to lecture…and it'll be good practice when he finally passes his teaching course.

Hiding his papers had been childish.

The whole reason he had done it was because…well, Jyou always seemed to have the upper hand when it came to their arguments, never losing his cool, and making Yamato feel like a six year old throwing a temper tantrum. What a difference from when he was young. Yamato allowed himself a small grin at the thought of Jyou flipping out, as he was wont to do at the young age of thirteen.

He must have been the youngest kid on blood pressure medication ever…

Even back then, though, there had been something about the dark haired boy. Maybe I would have noticed sooner if I hadn't had my head up my ass part of the time, and the other half lusting after Taichi. Hormones were such a bitch when you were young.

You're just stalling.

***

Am I really anal-retentive when it comes to stuff like that? Jyou looked at his new start on his paper in disgust. It wasn't even shaping up to be half as good as his other one. He didn't mean to come across as anal-retentive. It was just that…well, he had spent so much time in the the kitchen, making sure everything had a proper place…not because he was going to spend a lot of time in there anyway – his idea of cooking was dialing the number to the nearest ramen delivery joint – but because he had thought it would make things easier for Yamato.

So why did it matter so much to go in there and see all his hard work had vanished without a trace?

Because…it makes me think that…

"He doesn't care."

Jyou jumped as he felt something touch the base of his neck. Unconsciously throwing his head back as he half leapt from his seat in shock., he winced as it crunched into something painful sounding. Jyou turned around to meet Yamato holding his forehead from a sprawled undignified position on the floor.

"Remind…me…to warn you…next time I…kiss the back of your…neck." He managed to groan between his frantic massaging.

"What were you doing?" Jyou asked, nonplussed, as he knelt down beside his lover.

"I was trying to apologize." Yamato smiled as his hands were forcefully pulled away and Jyou inspected the point of impact. The look on Jyou's face was so clinical – a holdover from his year in med school – that Yamato couldn't help but think Jyou's next words would be "open wide".

"Looks like you'll have a nasty bruise…" Jyou finally said. "I should probably get you some ice."

He made a move to get up, but Yamato grabbed his hand and pulled him back down.

"I do care." Yamato exclaimed to Jyou's wondering look. "I guess I just didn't understand before…how much time you spent on it. I thought you were just doing it…I don't know, maybe because you have some sort of weird fetish."

"I think you know all of my fetishes by now." Jyou said, something about Yamato's words kindling his dry wit. Yamato laughed in reply, and Jyou's breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at him. It was one of those moments…when the sun outside was at the perfect angle and it was pouring in through their enormous bedroom window, bathing the two of them in a light as rich as butter, shadows long on the hardwood floor behind them. The sunlight caught on Yamato's hair like a halo.

He was radiant.

This is why I do it…nothing to do with fetishes, or anything like that.

Anything to capture that look on Yamato's face.

"You're looking at me like I'll disappear…" Yamato whispered affectionately.

"I think I'm half afraid you might…" Jyou whispered back.

"Baka." Low and loving. Yamato's arm reached out to grip him tightly in a headlock as he ruffled Jyou's dark locks. "It takes more than a little quarrel to get rid of me!"

"Darn." Jyou said tartly through Yamato's grip. "Looks like I'll have to try harder then."

"Hmm, how are you going to make this up to me?" Jyou teased, after managing to wriggle from Yamato's grip.

"Well…let's go take a shower, and then I'll help you rearrange the kitchen to your specifications."

"And?"

"What?"

"After that you'll give me back my papers."

"We'll see…"

***

"That better not be what I think it is…" Jyou murmured, droplets of water trailing down his naked body in rivulets. Caressing him almost as closely as Yamato's fingers. He jerked violently as Yamato touched him in a very private place, then let out a string of cuss words that would make a sailor lower his eyes in shame.

"Shit, shit, shit! That's cold!! Dammit, Yamato!! I've told you that I hate it when you use…the…the…mint…conditioner…to…to…to…mmm…"

"Warm now?"

"Well, I'll let it be…just…this…once…"

"Less talking, more kissing."

"Demanding…aren't we?"

"Hell, yes."

owari