Author's notes

"The Milk Tray Man" – terrible British play on words of a sort. There was a long-running series of television adverts about a sexy man-of-action dressed all in black who would sneak into ladies' bedrooms, leave chocolate and then disappear into the night like some kind of love ninja. I thought it suited Atticus pretty well… There's a ton on Youtube if you're interested.

Dub names – I've only seen the dub so far, apart from one or two episodes, so I'm using those names and characterisations. Also, I've only seen up to season 2, and this is my first time writing GX, so please be lenient on me if I accidentally mess up canon or other stuff.

Edit: Please review! I'd love to write more for this pair, but I need encouragement and to know if I'm even close to getting the characterisation right. Even one-line reviews cherished. Heck, I'll take one word, as long as it's not a flame.

Without further ado, I give you…

The Milk Tray Man

The tiny hum that preceded the alarm clock's shrill daily duty was sufficient to wake Chazz, attuned to it as he was. He threw an arm out from under the covers to hit the off button before the alarm had a chance to squawk into life, then snuggled back down into the bed, burying his face in the pillow. It was a Sunday, and he deserved a lie-in.

Minutes passed in a light doze before a repetitive scratching dragged the boy back from the clutches of sleep. Before his brain could process what the sound might be, there was a loud click, a creak and the unmistakeable breeze of a cool morning. Chazz sat bolt upright, eyes suddenly wide and looking for a weapon to hand. Someone was breaking into his room. His duel disk – that would do. He held it two-handed like a baseball bat out in front of him, part shield, part blunt force weapon.

The curtains parted, revealing a well-built male figure in a skin-tight black bodysuit, a cloth tied over his head and knotted under his nose, with a large satchel on his shoulder. Open-mouthed, Chazz watched as the figure put a finger to its lips to request silence, before gently closing the window and curtains behind it. With an audible sigh of relief, the figure removed its ridiculous headgear as Chazz turned on the bedside lamp, setting the duel disk down on the cluttered floor.

"Atticus." The corners of Chazz's mouth turned down disapprovingly. "What do you think you're doing?"

Atticus ran a hand through his long chestnut hair, smoothing it out only marginally. "Bringing you breakfast in bed," he stated, as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world. He gingerly picked his way through the flotsam strewn over Chazz's floor and sat down on the side of the bed, smiling.

"What?" Wrong question. Chazz tried again. "Why?"

"Because I wanted to." Atticus began removing items from the satchel, laying a tray with a jarringly bright tablecloth and setting it over Chazz's knees. The tablecloth looked as if it might have once been one of Atticus's shirts. "You've not been yourself recently, with the brainwashing and everything, and I just wanted to say welcome back. I missed you, dude."

"So you decided to break into my room, dressed like a cat burglar." Chazz rubbed his eyes, hoping that when he removed his hands this would all prove to be some strange hallucination. "What if someone saw you?"

"No-one saw me," piped Atticus confidently. "I have five-star ninja skills. And I'm a master of disguise." He took a fake moustache from the satchel, held it over his upper lip and wiggled his eyebrows.

Chazz sighed. "Well, you've said what you wanted to now. That's enough. Thanks, but get out."

"I'm hurt. Wounded." Atticus clutched melodramatically at his side. "After I went to such effort…" His mouth made a wide O of realisation. "You're just a grumpy riser, that's all it is. I'm not surprised, if you will sleep in your clothes like that." He indicated the purple turtleneck jumper in which Chazz had indeed slept, leaning in close to Chazz's face to examine the tired eyes and tangled hair. "Tell you what. You go and shower, and I'll have it all ready for you when you get out, okay?"

Battling with himself, Chazz maintained eye contact with Atticus for a full five seconds before his shoulders drooped resignedly. At least if he was in the bathroom he would be away from this maniac, he hoped. Chazz climbed out of bed, Atticus obligingly moving the tray. Chazz picked up an identical but hopefully slightly cleaner slacks and turtleneck to the ones he was wearing, headed to the en-suite and locked the door behind him. As an afterthought, he pulled a vanity unit in front of the door. He wouldn't put it past Atticus to try to get in and offer him a towel.

Thankfully, the shower remained blissfully Atticus-free. Chazz relaxed into it as the warm water matted his black hair to his shoulders, examining his skinny limbs as he washed them and comparing them unfavourably to Atticus's toned muscles on vivid display in the wetsuits and catsuits he seemed so comfortable in. Atticus even tanned well. Chazz was pale enough to get a sunburn in winter if he tried. And, awkwardly, blushes stood out so much more against his fair complexion. He could never act cool with girls, like Atticus.

Turning off the shower revealed the sound of Chazz's unwelcome guest singing to himself, hitherto unnoticed under the splashing of the water. Like a cat with a bell on its collar, you could usually detect Atticus by the sound of music. If only he sang while scaling the side of dormitories to give a man notice to escape, thought Chazz as he towelled himself off.

Dressed, teeth brushed and hair combed, Chazz pushed the vanity unit back to almost its usual place, resting his hand on the doorknob for a moment to breathe before swinging the door open to face the music. Which mercifully stopped as Atticus noticed his emergence. Chazz allowed himself to be guided by the elbow back to the bed, where Atticus stopped and looked at him expectantly.

"You want me to get back in bed. After I've already got up and dressed." Chazz tapped an impatient foot.

"Sure! Well, it wouldn't very well be breakfast in bed otherwise, would it?" Atticus beamed. It was logic that was hard to fault. Atticus's naiveté was almost convincing sometimes. Chazz sat down, swung his legs in and folded the covers back over them. Atticus leaned behind Chazz, propping up the pillows behind his back. "You do smell better now, dude."

Chazz gave Atticus a glare, which was missed as Atticus turned his back to fetch the tray, now adorned with a yellow plastic flower in a tall glass. "I couldn't cook you anything, it would have gotten cold. But there's cereal, fruit and yoghurt, and juice, too." Atticus brandished the milk carton proudly, pouring a generous helping over the bowl of cornflakes and perching on the edge of the bed. "Enjoy."

"What, you're just going to sit there and watch me eat?" Chazz picked up the spoon, figuring that milk went better with toothpaste than orange juice.

"I did already eat before I came over." Atticus stared longingly at the tray.

"Help yourself." Disbelief was written all over Chazz's face.

"Well, if you don't mind…" Atticus picked up a banana, peeled it open and tucked in with gusto. With a minute shake of his head, Chazz turned his eyes to the tray and ate in blessed silence. It didn't last. "So, how's your love life, Chazz?"

Chazz dropped his spoon clattering on to the tray. "Why bother asking? She's not interested. You told me to give up on her."

"Plenty more fish in the sea for a charismatic kid like you," Atticus continued, not discouraged. "You should try and get some moves on."

"What's the point? I'm not exactly noted for my looks, like some people." Chazz drained the glass of orange juice.

"Sure you are! You're an attractive guy." Nothing but honesty showed in Atticus's eyes.

"I don't know. Not comparatively. I mean, my brothers are apparently the attractive ones in the family, and you're the most sought-after guy at the Academy." Chazz gestured towards Atticus, indicating the manly physique, the pretty-boy good looks and the laid-back coolness.

"I know. It's such a burden being this gorgeous," sighed Atticus, leaning in as if to impart some confidential information. "Sure, your brothers might appeal to a certain type of girl, but you're cute too, and your blushes are super-sweet. You have the brotherly seal of approval to ask Lexie out. I don't grant that to just anyone."

Just me, Jaden and half the rest of the school, thought Chazz grumpily. But he supposed Atticus had tried to help him on that front, even if his advice wasn't the sterling quality he had expected from the self-styled love guru. "And that's going so well," he muttered.

Atticus caught the aside. "Between you and me," he lowered his voice conspiratorially, "I don't think she's into guys. She's had so many suitors, and apparently not one to her liking. I thought for sure her and Zane, but…" he trailed off, perhaps realising the insensitiveness of the last comment around Chazz.

Chazz blinked, his heart sinking. He must have looked utterly crestfallen, as Atticus took the opportunity to edge closer, putting an arm around Chazz's shoulders. "Don't worry, Chazz. If she won't have you, I will." He put a thumb up and grinned.

Chazz shook the arm off, folding his own protectively and tilting his nose in the air. "The Chazz doesn't swing that way."

"Sure you do," Atticus beamed. "Everyone does. What's important is the person, not the gender, and everyone falls for me eventually."

Chazz tried to muster his best disgusted expression, but it had no impact on Atticus. As far as he was concerned, he was just stating a fact. Over-generalised, maybe, but there was no arrogance in his tone. "But doesn't that contradict what you just said about Alexis?"

"Besides, girls like gay guys," Atticus continued blithely, ignoring the inconvenient interruption. "You'd be surprised how close you can get to a girl when she finds you totally non-threatening. And what better way to demonstrate lack of interest in Lexie than by dating her brother?"

"So you'd just be using me to get girls. I should have figured." Still, a tiny portion of Chazz's conscious mind was just a little disappointed. He was long overdue a first confession of love, and the pampering thing would have been nice, maybe, if he'd only been warned first.

"I wouldn't hurt you, dude." Atticus ruffled Chazz's damp hair before removing the tray to wash up in the bathroom, leaving Chazz contemplating a shiny green apple. It was sour when he bit into it and his mouth watered. He crunched loudly, trying to drown out his thinking. It didn't work. Atticus never had a steady girlfriend, he thought. He got routinely mobbed by girls, but tried to escape them with stupid disguises. He took care of himself. And, apparently, he cooked. Chazz mulled it all over, starting when Atticus returned with the clean dishes.

"That's what I'm talking about." Atticus smiled widely as Chazz felt the heat rise in his cheeks. "You're adorable. Go get 'em." Atticus packed the breakfast kit away and re-tied the cloth over his head.

"You can just use the door, you know." Chazz pointed the way.

"More fun this way," grinned Atticus, heading for the window.

Chazz breathed a sigh, releasing all his pent-up emotions as Atticus left the building. He bent over to lean his head in his hands, but movement at the window caught his eye. Atticus's head and hands were just visible over the sill. "Next time I'll bring my guitar. And think about what I said, okay?"

"Oh, piss off." Chazz threw the apple core at Atticus, who ducked just in time. The discarded fruit bounced harmlessly on the ground outside, rolling to rest at the foot of a tree.

"Harsh, man."

Chazz had the decency to feel bad, at least. "Sorry. Just… give me some time. And thanks. For everything."

"Sure." Atticus paused, as if to continue, but then simply nodded and finished his precarious climb down.

It might not be so bad if there was a next time, pondered Chazz, finger hovering over the text message button on his cellphone.