Disclaimer: White chocolate mocha cappuccino…better than pumpkin juice.

Warnings: Unintentional and intentional OOC-ness. But that will be resolved and explained in later chapters.

Notes: Well guys…I'm back. I didn't expect to end my hiatus on this story, but any of you who wished to see the end of this tale can thank all those who have reviewed.

Thank you those who reviewed, you guys are my motivation. And thank you to everyone, for just reading this story.

Feel free to critique, flame, review, do a dance, or whatever…I hope you enjoy this latest chapter and the rest of the story. Sorry for anything lacking in this chapter, some of you may notice that my writing has changed over the years, not really for the better I must say xD…but Yamato now makes his entrance!

Date: 1.19.09

Let Me

Stumble, Trip, Falling

A Neverending Dream, a dream of you,

I believe I received a sign of you,

Tonight I wanna hide my feelings too,

As you do when I wanna be with you.

- "A Neverending Dream"

- - - - -

Stepping lighting out of the taxi after paying the driver, Daisuke shouldered his backpack and walked purposefully toward the door of the modest home.

Finally, he could breathe.

After being dismissed from his first session with Takeru, the burgundy haired male immediately hailed a taxi to first bring him home in order to gather a few belongings, then to his current location. Pulling out a set of keys from his pockets, Daisuke promptly opened the door, eager to step inside.

"I'm going to kill you Ken Ichijouji!"

Cinnamon eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the suburban house, the voices within invoking a genuine smile. Aaah…home sweet home.

"I didn't know Miyako! You can't blame me for being ignorant!"

Setting down his bag, Daisuke toed off his shoes while he heard the steps of a female approach him. "What did Ken do this time, Hikari-chan?"

"He accidently ate the cheesecake Miyako had been saving." Hikari's voice was smooth and amused as the brunette extended her arms to the former star player. "Welcome back Dai-chan, we've missed you."

Allowing himself to be embraced while also returning the hug with his lean arms, Daisuke whispered sincerely, "Missed you guys too." Pulling apart, the burgundy haired man adopted a brilliant grin while already making his way to the kitchen, practically skipping, "Now we have to go save my Ken-chan!"

Gone was the sophisticated and abrasive Daisuke that had appeared in Takeru's office. Replaced now…with that of a carefree child.

Arriving to a rather comical scene of Miyako towering over the blue haired genius with a butcher knife, Daisuke wasted no time in pushing the female aside and latching himself to Ken. "Ken-chan! Miss me?"

Before Ken could answer however, Miyako was already jumping down Daisuke's throat. "Daisuke, don't you even try to defend him! He's getting what he rightfully deserves! So commit seppaku you bastard, or I'll kill you myself!"

Glancing into the violet eyes of his best friend, Daisuke laughed as they so clearly read, "Save me…please?"

"Miyako…" the former soccer star began diplomatically. "I think we can make a deal in exchange for Ken's life."

The knife was lowered a fraction of an inch. "I'm listening."

"How about…Ken and I pose in yaoi pictures for you?"

"WHAT?" Eyes wide with fear and shock, Ken stared at his friend pointedly. Clearly, this had not been his idea of being saved.

"Hm…how many pictures would I get?"

"Five poses, two pictures each."

Lowering the knife to her side, Miyako raised a brow. "Ken's life is only worth ten pictures?"

Daisuke shrugged. "Well, I already sold his soul to you, so his body's all we got left."

"Daisuke, when did you sell my soul—"

"Compromise accepted." Miyako grinned, extending a hand. "And don't you dare back out of it."

"Deal." Sealing the pact by shaking Miyako's pale hand with his tan one, the former soccer star felt suddenly at ease. Being here, with his friends…was much better than wasting his time with some doctor.

"Daisuke, you're not serious are—"

"Daisuke." A new voice interrupted, the speaker adjusting his glasses while he spoke.

Ken frowned as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. What was it with people cutting him off today?

Deviating his cinnamon eyes in the direction of the one who had called him, Daisuke smiled gently. "Hey Jyou. What's up?"

Offering the slightest smile of his own, the eldest of the group replied simply. "Yamato-kun wanted to see you as soon as you got here."

Nodding in an almost solemn manner, Daisuke released his hold on Ken and began treading the distance that separated him from where he knew the blonde would be. "Okay. On my way."

- - - - -

KNOCK. KNOCK. KNOCK.

"Unless Miyako killed Ken, I don't want to hear it Jyou."

Not even bothering to ask who was at his office door, Ishida Yamato continued with his paperwork. As the head of this crazy, misfit household, he had to stay on top of everything regarding their estate…and he did not want to be disturbed—

The door opened.

Clutching his pen just a little tighter, azure eyes narrowed slightly as Yamato breathed out, "I don't have time Jyou…"

"Stop calling me Jyou, moron."

Blinking in rapid succession, the blonde lifted his gaze to meet those of smoldering cinnamon, a smile beginning to tug at his handsome features. "Daisuke…disrespectful as ever."

"You know you love it."

Rolling his azure eyes while watching Daisuke shut the door behind him, Yamato set aside his pen and paperwork…they could wait. Tugging at the hem of an ebony colored turtleneck and matching black pants, the elder of the two looked all the part of a sophisticated musician. Being a musical artist and the lead singer of his own band…was something that came naturally to him. Having straightened his attire somewhat, the blonde spoke in a casual tone.

"Ken-kun told me your family signed you up with a new psychiatrist."

"Yeah…" Daisuke shrugged, running a hand through his burgundy tresses while leaning against the door. "He's younger than all the others…and surprisingly, not so much of an ass. If anything, he's annoyingly nice, which makes me feel guilty for acting so mean to him."

"Want me to take care of him?"

Cinnamon eyes cast themselves on the form of Yamato, not surprised by the solemnity of his cool azure stare. Ishida Yamato…did not make idle threats.

"N-No…it's okay. I should be done with him in a month. Tops."

"How do you know that?"

"We made a bet." Daisuke began to explain. "Of which there's no possible way he can win. And when I'm claimed the victor, I never have to see him again!" At this time, the soccer star had made a victory sign with his right hand, winking at Yamato with confidence.

He would win this bet no problem. Takeru had yet to see how much of a pain he could be.

Wait…did he just insult himself?

"Well that's convenient. What's the guy's name?"

"Mm…Takashi. Takashi Takeru. Tall, skinny blonde with blue eyes. Actually…" Folding his arms over a lean chest, Daisuke tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes while staring at the elder of the two intently. "He looks kind of like you."

"Well that would make sense." Muttering under his breath, Yamato adverted his gaze, his mind suddenly reeling as he suppressed his shock. Well…what an odd turn of events. I'm sure nothing will come of this though…

"What'd you say?"

Snapping his attention back to the male in front of him, the blonde offered a lopsided grin. "Nothing. Hungry?" Yamato asked while standing from his seat, rapidly changing the topic. "I haven't gone out in a while, care to join?"

"I thought you were busy."

Shrugging his shoulders, the blonde walked around the wooden desk that separated him from the former soccer star. "Got hungry. Can't work on an empty stomach." Long and slender legs brought him to a corner of the room where he had hung a leather jacket on a coat hanger, grasping the clothing with pale digits.

"You're putting on a jacket?"

Casting Daisuke a glance while putting on the said article of clothing, the blonde raised a brow, "Yeah…and?"

Gracefully crossing the distance between himself and Yamato's desk, the former soccer star claimed a seat on the smooth surface while shrugging, "You're going to be really hot."

With his jacket now adorning the upper portion of his body, Yamato adjusted his clothes and ran a hand through his luscious golden tresses, casting the other a sly smirk, "I always do."

Rolling his cinnamon eyes, the younger of the two had to fight back a laugh, "No…I mean it's eighty degrees outside hot. You're going to be burning up as it is in all black."

Yamato winked. "I know."

"Yamato, you know what I mean! Hot! Not…'hot-t!' As in sweating, panting…high body temperature hot!"

A smirk appeared on the rock star's features, "No, I believe that's us after I've had my way with you."

Cheeks of tanned caramel sported a tinge of a blush as Daisuke attempted to rectify his last statement. "Oh shut up! You know that I wasn't trying to make some kind of innuendo."

Treading the distance between himself and the younger male with steps laced with a cat's grace, the blonde merely smirked, "And how do I know you're not?"

"Because I'm not a pervert like you."

Tilting his head to the side Yamato continued their playful banter, "If I was a pervert, then I would have taken advantage of you by now."

"Oh, I dare you to try."

"Do you really?"

As the question hung in the air, Daisuke finally realized the proximity of his blonde friend. Standing just to the side of cinnamon eyed male, Yamato's lean physique towered over him, but not at all seeming oppressive or intimidating. His head was so close that thick blonde tendrils brushed against his own burgundy tresses and he could feel the other's breath kiss his cheek.

He inhaled the blonde's scent, finding himself momentarily intoxicated until slender fingers traced the side of his tanned cheek. Although the gesture was gentle and quietly intimate, it felt more like a slap to reality as Daisuke realized that the question was more serious than playful. Focusing his stare on the sky blue eyes just centimeters from his own, Daisuke knew he was already tilting his head up, wanting nothing more at this moment than to reach the other's lips with his own.

Their breath mingled and they were so close…just one kiss. Just one wouldn't hurt. Just one---No!

"No…" Inhaling and exhaling deeply, Daisuke forced himself to turn his head away, his dry lips demanding a valid reason for this denial of desires. Silencing them by licking his lips, the younger male refused to look up at the blonde while he spoke softly, "I...I…we can't."

A sigh of dejection escaped Yamato's lips before he could stop it as he whispered understandingly, "I know…I shouldn't have tempted myself by being so close."

Forcing a slight smile, the burgundy haired other cast his gaze on the blonde, "Well, I'm sure I had something to do with that tempting."

"Oh, you did."

Shrugging his shoulders, the former soccer player found his lips naturally forming a cheeky grin. "What can I say, I'm irresistible."

Taking steps toward the exit, Yamato rolled his eyes playfully, "Pride cometh before the fall."

"Then how long have you been falling?"

Unable to suppress the bittersweet feeling now lacing his lips, a cool azure gaze was set upon Daisuke, "For a while now…"

He had stumbled when he first met Daisuke, tripped sometime without realizing it, and now he was falling…reaching a new depth every moment he spent with the former soccer star.

Catching on to what Yamato was actually referring to, the younger male pierced his lips together, uncomfortable with the situation presented to him. It wasn't until Yamato called his name softly that the burgundy haired male looked up at his current companion, his eyes unreadable.

"You know…that I'm not just joking and having fun, don't you?"

Nodding numbly, Daisuke responded with a barely audible, "I know."

He heard the blonde take his leave without another word and it was then Daisuke exhaled a deep sigh, his breath seeming to harbor his burdens. His skin whined without the blonde's warmth, his lips complained for being denied, and his heart ached…and ached…and ached…

- - - - -

End Stumble, Trip, Falling

.:Carry On Dancing:.