So. Ike was leaving. Marth had known it would happen, he knew as soon as his brother strode from the podium in the auditorium, his arm raised triumphantly to a frenzy of cheering from the crowd.

Ike had always been the one that had been noticed at school; his grades weren't the best – Marth knew this from the tutoring sessions he did with Ike every night (or rather, now never again, now that Ike was going to college) – but he was outgoing (he knew everyone's name, or it seemed like it), and he possessed another contributing factor: he was the star quarterback of the football team at school.

On the contrary, Marth was withdrawn, quiet, and strikingly slim – it was as if all of their father's brawn had gone to Ike, instead of Marth. His grades were very good indeed, but he rarely spoke, and people almost never noticed him, standing in his brother's shadow.

On the way home, his parents congratulated Ike with words of praise and various platitudes. No glance was shot Marth's way, at least from his parents. Ike looked sideways at him for most of the way home, as if gauging his reaction to his – their parents.

They both turned in early, to Marth's surprise – he had expected his brother to run off somewhere and get firmly drunk with the security that school, for him, was over. Marth still had three more days to go before they allowed the freshmen, the sophomores, and the juniors to go. Marth fell asleep wondering what he would do without him.

-----

Marth dreamed that night. He dreamed of the special moments he and his brother shared, the caring pats on the head Ike gave him, the shining seconds where Marth knew, absolutely knew, that Ike loved him, and he Ike.

When he woke up, it was three-thirty in the morning. Marth glanced over at Ike's bed, on instinct, and realized Ike was up too. He crawled out of bed, bleary eyed, and walked to the living room.

Ike was seated on the couch, conspicuously missing his shirt. He didn't look anxious, nor did he look at all tired. He looked thoughtful, his arm resting on the couch armrest, the other laying casually on the couch.

Marth sat down on the couch, curling up beside his brother, searching for a little warmth. Ike complied, wrapping an arm around Marth's bony shoulders and pulling him close. "You're leaving, then?" Marth asked.

"Yes," Ike's answer was concise and to the point. Marth sighed, snuggling in.

"Do you really have to go? I know you think it's some huge thing that you're finally leaving to survive on your own, but really?"

"Yeah, I do. But I don't want to leave you." Ike answered.

Marth blinked, surprised at the show of affection. He knew that really, what he was doing with Ike was wrong, in a vague sort of way, but the way Ike looked at it, which became the way Marth looked at it, was: 'If you love, you love. You can't stop it.'

Marth, allowing himself to relax in the warm embrace, let his gaze wander. He registered the suitcases by the door, and then realized Ike had been waiting for Marth to wake up so he could say goodbye, and then leave directly afterward. Again, that sign of assumed affection surprised him before, again, he squashed it under the force of the word assumption: 1. something taken for granted. 2. Belief without proof, etc. Marth had memorized the definitions of 'assumption' long ago.

Not that Ike hadn't reminded Marth on a weekly basis that his affection for him was definitely real. He had. Marth was surprised, at first, but then Ike had swept him away with his easy charm and characteristic bluntness.

He could feel Ike stirring against him, and he gave him one last, tight, desperate hug before pulling away. Sitting there as Ike rose, he never expected the warm and calloused hands that held his face steady as Ike pressed his lips gently to Marth's, one last kiss – a reminder that Ike would be there for him, forever. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of Ike. Finally Ike broke apart, and hugging him tightly, breathed 'goodbye' into Marth's ear.

Marth fell into a stupor as Ike gathered his things to leave. He heard the door open, and then shut, Ike's smell still on the couch, musk and the smell of sweat and peppermint.