A/N: Part of the "Waver" universe, but predates that story by about four years (they're in high school in this story). This story is based on a throwaway line from "Waver". Enjoy!

Never Neverland

It's a typical Monday right up until Daisuke walks through his front door. For one, there's a pair of black loafers beside the shoe rack that belongs neither to his father or himself. Second, his mom's raucous laughter can be heard from the foyer—the type of laugh she reserves only for immediate family, which narrows the list of potential guests considerably. Before he can get to a third point, he hears a familiar voice that spurs him to make a beeline for the kitchen.

"What are you doing here?" he asks immediately upon entrance, dropping his duffle bag beside his sneaker-clad feet.

Takeru raises his eyes from the teacup he is about to sip. His back is straight, not quite touching the back of his chair as manners dictate and he's still wearing his school uniform. He sits across from his mom, a tea set and a plateful of cookies between them. After a brief pause, Takeru takes a sip of his tea. The total disregard to his question irks, and he's positive the other does it on purpose. Jerk.

"Daisuke!" His mom snaps and he starts, breaking eye contact with the blonde and shifting his attention to her. His mom looks furious, her hands wrapped stiffly around the cup of tea she held. "Take off your shoes and pick up your bag," she demands before turning to face Takeru once more. A smile blooms across her face. "Don't you see we have a guest?"

Daisuke snorts even as he starts to unlace his sneakers with one hand while the other is braced against the wall for balance. "That's not a guest. That's just Takeru."

"Daisuke!" His mom reprimands him at the same time Takeru finally decides to speak up, "Hi, Daisuke."

"Hey," he replies absently as he kicks his shoes beside his bag and flops down in a chair between the two. "What's up?"

Takeru shrugs his shoulders, placing his near empty teacup back on its saucer. "Nothing much," he replies eyes trained on the cup for a few seconds before rising to meet his. "Ken mentioned you got The Last of Us. I wanted to check it out."

If he had been thinking clearly, he would have asked why the other hadn't messaged him earlier rather than just show up uninvited—something completely unheard of for the blonde. Instead, the mere mention of the game has him bouncing to his feet. "That game is fucking awesome!"

"Language, Daisuke."

Daisuke ignores her, already taking the few steps to grab his bag and rambling on about the game's accolades. He is halfway to his room before he notices no one is following him. When he looks over his shoulder, Takeru is standing behind his chair with his fingers bracketed on back the top of it.

"Come on, Takeru," he says impatiently as his friend thanks his mom for the tea.

"You're welcome, Takeru," his mom replies as she also stands and starts gathering the dishware. "Have fun, and make sure my son does some homework."

Daisuke groans even as Takeru nods in assent before reaching for his own bag and following him out of the kitchen and down the short hallway to his room.

oOo

Daisuke graciously lets Takeru play for the first fifteen minutes before he demands his controller back before the other can mess up his game file. Takeru handing him the controller without protest should have been the second sign that something is up. It isn't until several hours later as Takeru is helping him get through his English homework that he chances a glance at his alarm clock and sees that it is nearing ten o'clock.

"Uh, shouldn't you be heading home soon?" he asks, scratching the back of his head with the hand that is not currently holding his pencil. Takeru ducks his head, lets his bangs curtain his eyes and doesn't respond right away. He straightens from his previous crouch over Daisuke's workbook and clears his throat. "I…that is—"

There's a knock on his door soon followed with said door opening. His mom appears at the doorjamb in her nightclothes, arms laden with a pillow and several blankets. Being the polite gentlemen as he is wont to, Takeru immediately walks over to relieve her of the burden.

"Thank you, Takeru," his mom says with a smile. "If you need another blanket, please let me know. Also, the spare futon is in Daisuke's closet."

"Thank you, Mrs. Motomiya. I'm sure this will be fine."

Daisuke watches the exchange slightly slack jawed.

"Sweet dreams, dear," she says before directing a stern look his way. "Don't stay up too late, Daisuke." She then leaves the room.

Daisuke watches as Takeru proceeds to pull the spare futon out of his closet and roll it open on the floor parallel to his bed. "Uhh…What's going on?"

The silence stretches as Takeru makes up his bed without looking at Daisuke once. When he's done with that, he takes off the outer layers of his school uniform until he's down to his white T-shirt and boxers. "Like you said, it's late," Takeru finally says as he folds his linen shirt and slacks and places them to the side. With his feet tucked beneath him, he looks up at Daisuke. "Do you still need help with conjugating the rest of your vocab list?"

Daisuke glances at the sheets of paper below his palm and then back at Takeru. "I guess not?" he replies, voice laced with uncertainty before he does a double take. "Hold on. What're you—why are you staying over?"

"You're mom offered when she saw how late it was," Takeru explains slowly as if speaking to a child. Daisuke scowls, hating when anyone took that tone of voice with him.

"And when were you going to tell me this?" he asks, clearly irritated.

For some unfathomable reason, the question causes both of Takeru's hands to curl into fists, and the blonde stares briefly at the carpeted floor before glaring back up at him. "If you don't want me to stay, I can leave," he says darkly, and it simultaneously leaves Daisuke feeling confused and offended.

"Wh—Calm the fuck down, all right?" he snaps. "Considering this is my house and this is my room you've decided to camp out in, I feel I should know what's going on." Daisuke returns Takeru's glare tit for tat until Takeru's expression melts into a shamefaced one. Takeru runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit Daisuke recognizes, and avoids his eyes as he apologizes.

"I'm sorry. It's. It's been a long day," he says in explanation, but in reality, it doesn't explain anything at all. Considering how downtrodden Takeru looks at the moment, Daisuke chooses to cut him some slack.

"It's fine," he states grudgingly, and the room soon falls into an uncomfortable silence. He stares at the top of Takeru's head while thoughtfully tapping his homework with the tip of his pencil.

There's really only two things that can cause Takeru to become moody: evil digimon and his family. Since the former is severely (and thankfully) lacking since they defeated MaloMyotismon, it must have something to do with his mom, dad, or Yamato. Daisuke really doesn't want to get into it right now though, and it doesn't sound like Takeru is up to talking about it either. Takeru's fights with his brother never last very long; even more so with his parents. So, Daisuke decides to throw the other a bone.

"I'll forgive you," he says, "if you help me finish this." Takeru's head snaps up, and Daisuke grins cheekily; the action causes Takeru's face to break out into a relieved smile. The blonde rolls his eyes. "All right," he says, pushing himself up to his feet. "Let's get this over with so we can get some sleep."

Daisuke spins his chair back around until he's facing his desk. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to cut into your beauty rest," he quips. "You certainly need all you can get." He barely finishes his sentence before a pillow smacks him on the back of the head.

oOo

Daisuke thinks nothing of it when he wakes the next morning alone in his room with a neat pile of bedding sitting beside his bed. Takeru goes to a different school a town over and has basketball practice in the mornings. So, he can only imagine how early he has to get up. Daisuke's just thankful the blonde hadn't woken him up.

Filing yesterday away as just another odd day in the many he is sure to have in his life, Daisuke drags himself out of bed and prepares for what he is hoping to be a normal day.

Yet, when Daisuke returns home that afternoon, Takeru is walking out of the den with his dad and both are laughing.

"Uh…" The sound draws both their attentions to Daisuke, who in turn stares back at them blankly. "What are you doing here?"

Takeru glances uncertainly from him to his dad and only stops when his dad claps a hand on his shoulder. "Takeru was just helping me with a small project," the older man says, "and now that that's done, I have to be getting back to the office." He walks to the kitchen island to retrieve his briefcase, walks passed his son without pause, and heads to the front of the house. "See you later," he says in parting, although to whom, Daisuke isn't entirely certain.

When Daisuke turns back to Takeru, he's rifling through his bag and whips out a video game. Dark Souls II to be exact. Rather than question it, Daisuke releases a put upon sigh and motions for Takeru to follow him to his room.

And later that night when his mom drops off Takeru's bedding, Daisuke helps him set up his makeshift bed without much comment.

oOo

When Daisuke returns home the following day, it's to see that Takeru is already in his room doing his homework. At his desk no less.

"What. The. Hell." He punctuates the last word by throwing his soccer bag onto the floor. It's all for naught, however, because on closer inspection, Takeru has his earbuds in and can't hear a thing. Daisuke opts to punch him in the shoulder to get his attention.

"Ow!" Takeru exclaims as he tears out his earbuds and glares at him. "What was that for?" he demands and that's rich coming from him.

"What are you doing here?" Daisuke throws his arms into the air. "Again?!"

Takeru rubs his shoulder and averts his eyes. He swallows once. "I. I was." He shutters his eyes and after inhaling a deep breath, he opens them once more and says in a low voice, "I'm not going home."

Daisuke's head jerks back. "…Say what now?"

Takeru glares down at his open textbook. "I'm not going home," he repeats in a firmer tone and doesn't follow that up with an explanation as to why.

"Why?" Daisuke shouts and the sheer volume of the question would have caused anyone else to flinch, but not Takeru. Takeru remains tightlipped, and no amount of cajoling, demands, or threats results in a different outcome.

"Ken! What do I do?" he hisses down his cellphone, eyes darting to Takeru then back to the textbook lying across his lap. His boyfriend hums in a way Daisuke knows he is only listening with half an ear.

"What's he doing now?" Ken says, and Daisuke just barely manages to stop rolling his eyes.

"Studying," he whispers. "He's been at it for the past three hours. Who even DOES that?"

"I for one," Ken replies dryly at the same time that Takeru chimes in with, "I can hear you, you know."

Daisuke scowls at them both though neither can see him. "That's why I told you to put your headphones on!" he snaps at his unwelcomed roommate.

Takeru swivels his desk chair around just enough so Daisuke can see him deliberately put his earbuds into his ears and then turns back around. Daisuke resists throwing a pillow at his head only because he knows he wouldn't get it back. Takeru can be such an asshole sometimes.

"Keeeeen" Daisuke whines, sprawling backwards on his bed without a care for his book that tumbles onto the floor. He hears Ken sigh.

"Has he told you why he's staying over yet?" Ken asks, and Daisuke sits up at the tone knowing he has the other's undivided attention now.

Daisuke scrapes his free hand through his hair. "No. Not a word. It has to be something with his mom, right? I mean, why else wouldn't he want to go home?"

Ken doesn't respond for a moment. "Just...wait it out, all right?" Daisuke opens his mouth to protest, but seeming to sense that, Ken rushes forward to say, "You know he won't talk otherwise. He can be just as stubborn as you sometimes, Daisuke."

Daisuke groans, flopping back onto his bed. His eyes slide to the side to the topic of their discussion. Takeru still has his head bent over whatever book he is reading, pencil tapping lightly on the pages to the rhythm of the music he's listening to. Daisuke sighs.

"Don't I know it?"

"I'll try to come over on Friday to talk to him, all right," Ken promises. Then adds thoughtfully, "Well, if he's still there anyway."

Daisuke is not amused at the attempt at humor. "And what should I do in the meantime?" he asks staring up at his white ceiling.

"The same thing you've been doing for the last few days: being a friend. It is your crest and all, isn't it?" Ken points out lightly, teasingly, and Daisuke flushes at the reminder.

"Yeah, yeah," he replies uncomfortably. Even after all these years, he still thinks him holding that crest is a bit of a stretch. He clears his throat. "You know, I find it a little bit telling that you'd pull yourself away from your books for Takeru, but not your boyfriend. I'm not sure how I feel about that."

Ken chuckles low in this throat. "Go study, Daisuke."

oOo

"Taking a break, runt?"

Daisuke grunts in response continuing his trudge to the refrigerator. He rummages through the shelves until he finds two soda pops he stashed in the back.

"I don't think I've seen you study this much except when Ken is over," Jun muses, humor laced in her voice. "And even then, that's pretty questionable." Daisuke continues to ignore her as he twists the cap off one bottle and then the next before pouring the soda into two tall glasses. He starts when a breakfast tray with a plateful of anpan are placed on the counter beside him. His mother plucks the two glasses out of his hands and settles them onto the tray.

"I believe these are Takeru's favorite," his mom says blithely and not only are these his favorite, they are also from his favorite pastry shop if he's reading the logo correctly on the box sitting further down on the counter. A pastry shop that's located an hour's train ride away.

"Mom…" Daisuke pokes at the pastry before pointing an accusing finger at her. "Do...do you know what's going on?!"

His mom frowns before smacking the offending digit away from her face. "Don't you take that tone with me, Daisuke, and you be nice to Takeru," his mother huffs as she fiddles with the pile of treats until they take the shape of a pyramid. "Honestly, if only you could absorb some of that sweet boy's manners, we'd get invited over the Miyamoto's for their annual barbecues."

Daisuke shakes away the sting on his finger, a scowl set on his face. "Could you please let that go? Why would we want to go over those snooty people's house anyway! And I can't be the only one to blame!" He nods over to his sister who is still sitting at the kitchen table, eating strawberry kanten with tea. "That one over there hasn't won us any points with her stalking Yamato and all."

"It's not stalking!" Jun practically screeches, rising menacingly to her feet. "I'm a fan, who appreciates good music."

Daisuke makes a disbelieving sound in his throat. "A fan who camps outside the lead singer's apartment for almost a week just to get a glimpse of him." He turns his back on her to pick up the breakfast tray. "Yeah, okay. Pull the other one."

It says a lot about a man when he sees his youngest being held in a headlock by his daughter on the floor to merely walk around them to kiss his wife's cheek in hello.

"I'm home," Daisuke's father says and receives an answering smile in return. "How was your day? Oh! Are those anpan?" he exclaims when his eyes catches sight of the tray his wife is holding.

"Your share is over here, dear." Mrs. Motomiya gestures behind her with the tray. "These are for Takeru."

"Why does he get anpan?" Daisuke grunts trying to escape his sister's grip yet failing. "It's a conspiracy!" Jun whacks him on the head before finally letting him go. Daisuke holds his head between his hands. "Ow!"

His father frowns down on his son. "Daisuke, he's a guest. He helped me put together the entertainment center the other day, too. Show some manners."

"Of course he did," Daisuke mutters before saying in a much louder and resigned voice, "Yeah, Dad."

oOo

Daisuke blinks groggily awake to darkness. He rubs his eyes in confusion not knowing what woke him up given the fact that he is a fairly heavy sleeper. He moves to roll over. Only then does he hear the sniffling and muffled gasping. He shifts quietly to look over the edge of his bed.

With only a scant bit of moonlight filtering through his blinds, it takes several minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dark. When they do, it's to see Takeru's back shuddering beneath his borrowed blanket on the floor, his face pressed into his pillow and fingers fisting and un-fisting at the fabric. Takeru is trying his best to be quiet, but his efforts only exasperates the sounds he is already making to come across even more wretched.

Daisuke reaches down and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Takeru," he whispers. "What's wrong?"

Takeru stills the moment he makes contact, but doesn't say a word—going so far as to hold his breath in the hopes Daisuke can be convinced he is still sleeping.

"Hey," Daisuke tries again; this time jostling him a little bit, but the action results in nothing more than Takeru releasing a shuddering breath and hunching his shoulders closer to his ears. Daisuke keeps his hand there for quite some time trying to figure out what to do and finally just pulls his hand back and says, "Come on. Get up here."

Takeru rolls onto his back at this, knuckles rubbing against his eyes, but doesn't make any moves to get up.

"Come on," he repeats, shifting back a little to create more space. "I don't have all night."

He waits for Takeru to make a move and thankfully, he does. The other comes back into view once he sits up, pillow held tight to his chest. He sees him deliberate for a moment longer. Then soon enough he's crawling in beside him.

Daisuke moves until both can fit as comfortably as two teenage boys can in a twin bed. This results with his back against the wall, but he's dealt with worse situations.

"Sorry," Takeru sniffs, and Daisuke's response is to throw an arm around Takeru's shoulder and pull him in until the blonde's head is tucked beneath his chin. Takeru, in turn, curls closer to him, his fingers gripping tightly onto his t-shirt.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" Daisuke asks plainly, his hand automatically running up and down Takeru's back the way Ken likes when he's had a nightmare.

Takeru mutely shakes his head.

Daisuke releases an exasperated breath. "You can't keep this to yourself forever, Takeru."

"Mm," Takeru agrees. Then murmurs, "Maybe tomorrow."

"Right," Daisuke replies skeptically. "Tomorrow." A few beats of silence pass. "Whatever," Daisuke grumbles and closes his eyes. "Get some sleep, Takeru."

At once, Takeru's body tenses, his grip loosening around his shirt. He says in a small voice, "Night, Dai-chan."

Daisuke exhales a soft breath at the defeated tone before his hand resumes its trek up and down Takeru's back until the other relaxes in his grip once more; the action is as close to an apology he's willing to give at it's-too-early-for-this-shit-o'clock.

He closes his eyes and mumbles, "Night, Keru."