Author's Notes: This story started as a daydream. Unfortunately, it's been a few years since I've written for fun, and I don't quite have the hang of it yet.

Warnings: Yaoi, shounen-ai, slash, whatever you call it. Don't like, don't read.

Pairing(s): IkeMarth. Probably other background noise.

Disclaimer: I don't own Super Smash Brothers.

Summary: They had been together since birth, separated by a mere three years. Developing a crush on the older boy was probably inevitable, as was keeping it a secret. However, year after year, he found himself unable to grow out of this 'phase.' With maturation at a standstill, his only option was to move and hope for a positive vector.

Momentum

By SSBBSwords

Technically, Ike had known Marth all his life. According to his parents and some photographic evidence, the two of them had met when Ike was only a few weeks old and Marth was about three years old.

They got along as one would expect children of parents who were good friends. In other words, they got along well for the most part. Ike could probably count the times they clashed on one hand.

Apparently Marth gave him the cold shoulder for a good chunk of his first year alive, any time he was crying or fussing. Similarly, he must have pissed Marth off when he threw a block at the older child when he was around two years old.

There was only one other time that Ike knew he had displeased Marth. Marth's parents had picked both of them up from school that day, and with parental instructions to play in the yard until snack was ready, Ike had tackled Marth to the ground. In his defense, he was at the age where rough-housing was fun. In fact, Ike probably would have never outgrown that stage if Marth didn't tell him otherwise.

Having been shoved to the ground and sat on by a kindergartener was unexpected to say the least, but Marth had sat up carefully, grabbed Ike's wrists to still his movements, and spoke calmly, "Stop, that hurts." Ike could remember freezing under the other child's stare. "Don't do this again."

Ike attributed their good relationship to Marth's mild, somewhat conservative personality. Whether or not it was because Marth was older, in Ike's humble opinion, Marth could do no wrong. The older child never got angry at him like his parents sometimes did, and whenever he copied Marth's language or behavior, he tended to get positive feedback from the adults around him.

Therefore, it was no surprise that Ike grew up adoring Marth and spend years trailing after him.

Ike met Roy sometime during grade school. As classmates and soon-to-be inseparable friends, Ike and Roy had a tendency to get into trouble, simply because Roy had a mischievous streak and curiosity to match. As a result, Ike felt that he always learned a lot from their adventures and enjoyed the refreshing new character in his life.

"Whoa, middle school. Really?" Roy hissed in a fake whisper that carried across the room anyway.

Ike tensed, eyes trained on the subtle uncomfortable shift in Marth's body even though the older student continued to work on homework. "Shhh! Yeah, so what?" He stared at Marth's profile, and watched the other boy leaf through the textbook and copy something down onto his notebook.

"He's so…" Roy scrunched his face and then used his palms to compress his cheeks downward and frowned heavily. "Like this!"

"What's that mean?" Ike whispered back, offended at the strange face his friend was making. He noticed Marth's eyes flicker toward their huddled figures by the door frame. Ike felt the urgent need to leave, and tugged on Roy's sweater. "Hey, let's go."

Roy made a loud noise of protest, but let himself be pulled away, "What's the big idea? You scared of 'im?"

Ike continued to herd Roy until they were both on the front porch. "No. I'm not scared. Why would I?"

"He's mean to you?" the redhead offered as a reason.

"Marth is nice," Ike defended, crossing his arms.

"But he doesn't play with us," Roy whined in return, "And he stares at us funny."

"He's…" Ike bit his lip, trying to come up with an excuse. "… Busy. Yeah. He's like mom."

Roy's eyes widened. "A girl?"

"No!" Ike's immediate response came out as a yelp. "What? He's a boy!"

"How's he like mum?" Roy asked childishly. "They don't look alike."

"I don't know," Ike mumbled, "Marth's just… nice," he finished lamely.

His friend just shrugged, dropping the subject as quickly as it had occurred, "If you say so."

The year rolled around where Marth began attending the high school, while Ike started at the middle school and began to struggle with academics. His report card indicated that he was shy to ask for help. The teachers did not need to know that he had a source of help already.

As he and Roy ran toward the far corner of the field during lunch, the redhead suddenly had an idea. "Let's go to the park today!"

Scuffing his sneakers into the sand of the small softball field, Ike stared downcast, ignoring his untied shoelaces. "I can't. I don't get math."

"You say that all the time," Roy accused with an obvious whine in his voice.

Ike frowned. "It's true." He shrugged detachedly and sat down on the nearby bench. "I just need help on homework."

"You can copy mine!" Roy said loudly with a generous smile, bouncing excitedly from his brilliant idea.

"No, thanks," Ike replied politely, bending forward to fix his laces, "Marth can help me at home."

Hours later, with his homework planner, books and subject binders, he waited for the ninth grader to come home from school. About half an apple and a glass of milk later, Ike sat up expectantly as Marth entered with an armful of textbooks and a backpack that still looked too heavy.

Marth paused in the doorway, assessing the situation, before sighing softly. "Ike, I don't have time to teach you your homework every day."

The dreaded day had arrived. Ike bit his lip to prevent dissolving into a complete state of panic, but he could not help sound desperate. "Please. I just… " need you here? like to see you? "I pay attention in class, really! Just… if I have questions—I think I get it. You don't have to teach me…" Ike trailed off. What could he say? "Check my work?"

After a pregnant pause, the older boy set down his own schoolwork across from Ike on the table. "That's fine. I won't always be around to help, that's all."

Yes, Ike probably knew this day would arrive. He simply nodded in response and began poring over his math worksheet.

After understanding why exactly he was feeling upset, Ike learned what it was like to grow apart from someone who was a constant in his life.

What he did not expect was the preoccupation that subsequently followed. He spent the first half of middle school occasionally working on homework with Marth by his side, but soon that faded into seldom seeing the older boy. After-school activities, group projects, and other excuses were referenced, but Ike realized that he, strangely enough, was okay with that, only because he felt increasingly weird when he saw or had a chance of seeing Marth.

It began on a typical afternoon. As he diligently worked on his homework, Ike was startled out of focus when Marth entered the kitchen. All the other boy did was smile and nod a slight greeting before getting a glass of water before he left, just as quickly as he entered, but Ike was stunned speechless. Was it alarming that his first and foremost thought was that Marth was… kind of pretty now? As in the same way that Roy thought that girl in history class was pretty?

From then on, Ike decided it was probably good that he didn't see Marth much anymore. It was rather confusing and embarrassing, especially since he acted less than normal every time he felt that rush of… whatever it was.

Around this time, as if adding insult to injury, those unpleasant events described in that health presentation that he had to attend with his parents at school started making an appearance. As expected, he learned how to deal with these circumstances, and was rather grateful for his parents' advice (and Roy's, in a way) even if the conversations were awkward at the time.

Then came the night that Ike suddenly made the unfortunate connection. Hand wrapped around himself, he was working steadily so that he could release, clean up, and sleep. His mind was working through random arousing visuals (accumulated from pictures and videos), when he automatically settled on the prettiest face he knew. And realized Marth was a boy, which meant he too must complete this act.

The newly created visual caused a blood-rushing difference that was both abrupt and unexpected. His climax was fast and intense. As he returned to his normal senses from the high, he swallowed heavily as he tried to regulate his breathing. It could have just been a fluke. Or a coincidence.

The image lingered easily, and even though he had just finished, the heat began to burn again.

Now he knew why kids at school cursed so much.

When he reached high school, he learned exactly why Marth was never home. The older student held multiple leadership positions as a senior. If Ike didn't see Marth once a day, he at least heard about Marth once a day. The senior class is hosting this event, water polo had a game after school, permission slips are needed for the 2K walk this weekend, etc.

When they passed each other in the halls or in the quad, Marth would smile and give him a wave. He usually did the same, but once out of eyeshot, he would duck his head down and force himself to think of something else to rid the fluttery feeling. Luckily, Roy never seemed to notice.

Needless to say, when Marth suddenly appeared beside him as he was reading a flyer about football tryouts, Ike thought his heart was about to jump out of his chest and flee the scene. There was then a brief moment where he realized he was now eye-level with the top of Marth's damp head. Oh, water polo practice. Made sense. Ike grimaced when he found himself now struggling to rid the memory of the last time he watched one of Marth's games. Well, he was fine during the game, but when Marth was out of the water before and after, that was a whole different story.

"Interested?" Marth asked with a smile, "I was going to stop by today to ask you about it."

Ike blinked in return. That seemed… odd, right? "Uh, what about?" He nervously ran his hand through his hair, just to have some sort of distraction.

"Nothing much," Marth pulled a small quarter-sheet flyer out of his warm-up jacket pocket to hand to Ike. "I was in the locker room and overheard the football coach and captain talking about recruitment. And I thought of you."

The senior stepped back from the bulletin board and began to move down the hall. His locker, Ike's mind automatically provided, and his own feet directed him to follow.

Feeling lost as to the other's reasoning, Ike cautiously asked, "Why's that?"

A thoughtful expression crossed Marth's face. "Well, I suppose multiple people have already asked me. About you, I mean."

The older student might as well been speaking in a different language. "Wha… why?"

As if amused by his confusion, Marth laughed quietly, "Have you looked at yourself recently? You have the potential build, for one. And they probably asked me because who else would they ask?"

Maybe Roy, but then again, upperclassmen rarely spoke with freshmen. He then wondered if Marth liked a football player's build. That was followed by a mental smack on the back of his head.

"Oh, I see. Yeah, I think I'll try out."

By now, Marth had begun exchanging textbooks between his locker and backpack. "Good. Actually, a bunch of seniors are meeting at my place in an hour. If you're free, I bet the captain would be happy to talk to you."

"I…" Ike was absolutely sure he would mess something up if he were to try and have a conversation with someone else while Marth watched on.

Unaware of Ike's inner anxiety, Marth quickly glanced at the younger student and quirked an eyebrow as he closed his locker. "Are you busy?"

No. "Yes." Lying was much easier when the excuse was already set up for him.

"Next time then," the senior responded smoothly and flawlessly switched topics, "Do you want a ride home?"

Strangely enough, Ike ended up as one of the few people who stayed dry-eyed throughout Marth's graduation and departure to college.

Statistically, Marth was around just as much as he was in high school. At home, that is. The now college student occasionally drove back home for a holiday, and if possible, the homecoming games that Ike played in. Occasionally, albeit rare, Ike would walk past the dining room and notice Marth studying since their families made a point to go out for a meal together when the older one came home.

So when Marth left his heavy genetics textbook at his house, Ike figured the earlier the studious student got the book back, the better.

Knowing where the spare key was from seventeen years of watering Marth's mother's plants when she was away on business trips, Ike let himself in from the back. He planned to drop the book off in the kitchen, since he knew Marth would definitely pass by to see it, but stopped short when he found Marth with company in the living room. A movie was casting a flickering glow in the dark room.

Ike immediately had to remind himself that this was nothing new. Everyone liked Marth; he always had a lot of friends. Sure, the crush was still there, but Ike was neither plagued by jealous thoughts nor had trouble talking to Marth now that he was old enough to gracefully handle most social situations. He would describe his crush on the older boy as… simmering.

With a bit of squinting into the dark, Ike deemed the company male and found himself smiling from relief. If Marth was watching a movie in the dark with a pretty girl, Ike would have immediately gone home to mope. Okay, the simmer was closer to a boil when Marth was around.

"Hey." Ike knocked on the doorway lightly to alert the two of his presence. "You left your book."

"Oh, thanks," Marth replied pleasantly, pausing the movie as he stood to retrieve the object from Ike. "Link, come meet my neighbor, Ike."

As Marth removed the heavy book from his grip, Ike found himself engaged in a strong handshake by an unfamiliar blond.

"Hi, Ike. Good to finally meet you. I heard you had a great season this year," the blond stated congenially.

A sense of wariness began to creep along the edges of his thoughts. Ike nodded in response, "Thanks. The team was great; we worked really hard." Why did he feel off? From those bright blue eyes to that obviously-practiced charming smile…

"Link is my—"

"—boyfriend," the blond interjected with a confident grin.

Author's Notes: Oh, I've missed this... apologies for the rough writing! Feedback much appreciated.