Words to live by

A/N: Back by popular demand (or the insistence of one Kuneko), comes a story that serves as a sequel to Cherub Faces and Calm down. It deals with the inner thoughts of one flirtatious playboy, alongside a few other things. I hope you all enjoy this final installment and don't mind its overdue nature! It took me a little while to warm up to the idea, but I thought Dan's psyche would be an interesting area to explore. I hope you all end up thinking the same. =) Anyway, happy reading!

Dan often found himself at the center of everyone's attention. In a word, he was exotic, different from this small town's usual order. He was bold, brash, beautiful and a whole lot of flirty.

No one could compare and he could get away with anything. Well, if he wanted to anyway. He was so unlike anything that Flowerbud had ever seen that no one knew how to react to him.

Hmm, ladies, don't mind if I do. Dan twirled amongst the women in the bar, snatching snippets of conversation and parts of meals before leaving them blushing in his wake. The boy loved to play, and these girls were a d-e-light. The blonds were his particular favorite.

Such friendly dames. The brunette threw a wink to the pony-tailed blond right behind him. Even if they're a little easy. They clearly don't get enough samba around here to keep them satisfied.

He clicked his finger for another drink, pointing at the same blond and mouthing at Duke that she'd "bought him another round. Sweet huh?"

The bartender plopped his wine before him, barely offering a grunt to acknowledge the flirt's presence. Dan resisted the urge to scrunch his nose at the sound; if there's one law he knew, it was the 'don't upset the bartender' rule.

With glass in hand, he leaned against the counter, letting his eyes scan his surroundings. They flicked from woman to woman, man to man, playfully lingering on the parts of people that interested him. Another blond gave him a seductive look, sashaying her hips as she moved between customers and took their orders. He only smirked in response, raising his glass to his lips as he let his eyes smolder.

These girls really are too much fun to play with.

He took his time playing up the charm, but overall kept his distance. I wouldn't want myself getting attached now, would I?

Yet he had when his eyes had strayed to one particular blond.

He hid his frown behind the rim of the glass. I didn't mean for that to happen.

The boy in question was nowhere to be seen, no longer frequenting the bar and seeing Dan as often as he once had.

Now he spends all his time with that smitten kitten and his little gal pal and I never get to see him. How is that fair?

He taped the glass in irritation; Dan hated this train of thought. Suddenly not feeling up to flirting, the bandana boy swiveled back toward the bar top, his elbows planting themselves on its surface. Duke raised an eyebrow, surprised at the unusually early retreat, but continued cleaning the mug in his hand regardless.

Dropping the tankard to the table, Dan let his face fall in his arms. He only let out a small frustrated huff as a bit of wine splashed on his fingers, lamenting the waste.

"Dukey, you know how people have these little habits that…get you down?" The boy settled his tan chin in propped up hands. His eyes were glazed over and he seemed suddenly bored and disinterested with the sights around him.

"Isn't that from a musical?" The bartender said gruffly, not bothering to look at the youth.

"Like…Carl," Dan continued, not bothering to answer the question. "He really likes to avoid things. No, not things, people."

Duke shrugged, nonchalant about his lack of response or the comment. "I think Carl's a good boy."

"Pfft, whatever," The orchard worker wasn't annoyed by the comment; he just wasn't particularly interested either. "He sucks."

His conversation partner chuckled to himself, filling a pint for the older carpenter who'd just sat down at the counter.

"Duukkey, I'm serious! That boy has issues."

"I don't think he's the one with the issues Dante."

"Ew, full name usage. Yuck."

"Maybe the issue, Dan, is that you can't take anything seriously."

The boy rolled his eyes, leaning back on his stool. "You're no fun Duke, I'm out of here."

I don't do serious.

The black haired man raised a thick brow. "Oh? And what about your tab?"

"Dontcha remember what I said? The girls have got it covered," Dan said with a smirk, eye sparkling with mischief.

He then sprung from his spot, stumbling momentarily as the effects of the alcohol went to his head. Trying to look as graceful as possible, he slipped between the many bar patrons and headed towards the exit, allowing his fingers to slip along dainty feminine shoulders as he walked.

Hm, and oh how they melt like butter at my touch. It really is so much fun to play.

Finally making his way outside, Dan breathed in the cool night air. A night well lived. Or so he thought to himself, yet he couldn't shake that small sense of need that had been imbedded within him since that night.

One drunken night where he'd gotten a little too handsy and suddenly one little baby-faced boy was all he could think about.

That little peach that I'd love to take a bite out of.

Dan started the trek back to the orchard, swinging his arms playfully from side to side as a distraction. He hummed, doing anything possible to keep his mind from the blond little face that stirred something within his gut.

No strings, no emotions, just fun.

It was a personal mantra, one he'd busted out on several party nights and pick-up schemes. Tan arms rose so that they could link both hands behind his head. Dan couldn't have a care in the world so long as those familiar words ran through his mind.

"D-Dan!"

Hmm, that shrill little voice. Dan blinked slowly, letting his eyes droop a little. So delicious. He was so nervous. I haven't been that thrilled in so long.

His thoughts were scattered, barely coherent thanks to the alcohol he'd consumed. The red bandana on his head shifted in the light wind that came down the street and the trees on the edge of Ronald's property became visible.

"W-what are you-aren't you-I'm-G-Girls!"

You shouldn't limit yourself so much pretty boy. Life isn't about limitations. Why not take whatever you can have at the moment?

The feel of a vested front against smooth fingers, baby soft hair and a smooth ear flashed through the gambler's mind. He stumbled.

"It's all for the cake…it's all for the cake…"

"Stop that," he growled at himself. His thoughts were becoming annoying in their insistence. How that voice would refuse to go away. It was a pleasure, but also a pain.

"Ugh, I never have this kind of problem. What's wrong with me?" Dan huffed, squeezing his eyes shut. "This whole thing is exhausting. I can't handle stuff this complicated."

The red bandana on his head shuffled back and forth as he took the final steps up the path.

Dan wondered what it would have been like if a certain blonde would have accompanied him.

He marched into the orchard villa.

"Hey, I'm back!" The voice rang out into the darkened room, followed swiftly by a dark chuckle. "But, ya know, nobody's here so I guess I didn't need to say that."

Bustling past his work counter, the bandana boy let his shoulders drop. He was lonely.

"If there's a prize for rotten judgment," his voice echoed in the darkened home, filling up its empty space. "I guess I've already won that."

Dan let another chuckle escape, its tone even darker. His musical nature had taken a turn toward the cynical. Tan arms flittered through the air as he turned, spinning through the doorway that led to his small 'bachelor pad.'

"It feels so good when you start out," Dan attempted a pirouette, his execution less than graceful. "Flirting, drinking and frustration! Oh no, that doesn't work…"

He threw himself onto his bed, brunette locks bouncing from the force. Frustration would not be a word he often used to describe his situation, but it had been frequent recently. Well, whenever he was in bed alone anyway.

"So, let's play crazy Dan shall we?" The high tenor was muffled by the covers his face had planted into. "So, Danny-boy, what's bothering you?"

"Cake. Cake. Cake. Cake."

Dan lifted his head from the comforter. "I'm craving something sweet."

Maybe a little too sweet.

Rolling over, the brunette-boy couldn't help but groan as his hands meet material instead of the soft skin he desired. This night was going to be one of the bad ones.

"Why is it so difficult to get what you want?" he blew an errant strand of hair out of his face, his hands skimming the top of his bed. "Everyone always tries to throw what you need at you. Can't they do the same for what you want?"

"D-Dan, i-isn't that a bit selfish?"

"Aw," Dan cooed, his tone sweetly mocking. "Now you're the voice in my head, how cute!"

"Don't you ever want something more than an easy lay!?"

"Ugh," Smothering himself with a pillow provided no relief. "Maybe I really am crazy. Either that or it's 'attack of exes' in Danny mind-land; let's just hope that there won't be a Tuesday repeat."

Twisting and turning on the bed seemed to provide no comfort either, and much-desired sleep eluded the tanned boy.

Then again, it often did if he wasn't really drunk.

"You just don't get people Danny-boy. It isn't a problem, not everyone does, but you just really can't. You can't tell what people want."

He finally settled, head tossed back to stare at the ceiling. "Now isn't that the pot calling the kettle black? Dad, you manipulate people just as much as I do. It was never about not understanding other people; we just don't care."

The tanned boy sighed, his eyes gazing forward blankly.

"If they're always on your mind, it must be serious."

The new voice made him jolt upright, eyes widening. He really must be going crazy. That voice certainly had never said that.

"Love is important Dan. You shouldn't just ignore it because you find it inconvenient."

The boy in question frantically shook his head, not wanting to deal with the voice of his mother right now.

"Whatever this obsession with Carl is, it definitely isn't that. I don't play that kind of game," Dan huffed, now, more than ever, irritated by his restless nocturnal mind. He pulled himself off his bed a moment later. "Maybe Ronald won't mind if I have a little nightcap."

A tall glass of wine was in his hands moments later. Even if it wasn't his to take, the orchard worker took generous sips, completely unhindered by the fact that what he was doing wasn't allowed.

With each sip the voices flitting through his mind grew quieter.

"Ugh, you're eyes are always wandering. Do you have no shame? We're supposed to be dating."

Sorry Katie, even doll-faces like you can't expect to have my eyes on you always. I'm a growing boy; I can't help but…wander.

"Hun, I get it, men can't keep their eyes where they should. But do you have to stare at girls and boys? I'm startin' to think you're just getting bored of me…"

"Well sweetie, did you ever think that I always had a thing for the male form? Guys can be beautiful to look at to. And to touch."

Dan sighed tiredly only a second later, twirling the wineglass in his hand. He shouldn't be indulging these apparitions. He poured himself another glass.

"I'm the kind of guy who doesn't let things get him down," he mused, staring deeply into the red of his drink. "Even if I have a little itch, I can't let that get to me. Especially not now."

The voices were suddenly silent, the alcohol having seemingly served its purpose. The problem with his method of 'dancing through life' was that he ended up with more than a few notches on his belt and skeletons in his closet. Unfortunately, those skeletons often proved to be more vocal than he liked.

This Carl thing was messing with his head and not in the way that normally pleased the player. It was all a little too serious for his liking.

Dan was too young for anything to be serious. It was another rule he used to govern himself.

"Being a player isn't forever Danny-boy. Someday, you'll find somebody who makes you pause. You'll be so hung up that you won't even be able to play with anyone else, you'll be that distracted."

The orchard worker's father had always had unique advice. Yet the guy had taught his son everything that boy now knew, so there must have been something to what he used to say.

Dan wasn't too sure if he was ready to acknowledge that last gem though. He'd ignore that last voice, no matter how much its words fit the current situation. The player in him wasn't ready to settle down and admit to anything yet.

Dark hair hung limply as the rest of the drink was downed. The boy's legs felt unsteady, rocked by the night's liquor intake. He was thankfully beyond drunk now. There would definitely be no more voices tonight.

For now he'd have fun. For now he wouldn't question a good thing. He'd just enjoy living in the moment.

He didn't know any other way to live.

A light, hesitant, knock floated to tan ears, made the player put down his glass. With quick, but slightly unsteady, footsteps, Dan headed to the door.

The object of Dan's thoughts and recent desires, as shyly as he stood on the stoop, brought a large smirk to the orchard worker's lips. Carl shuffled from side to side, looking lost for words and almost afraid to proceed. His hair was unkempt, his waiter's clothes slightly ruffled, but his intent was clear in his eyes. That lustful smolder within the coffee brown depths was unmistakable.

It seemed that Dan would get to have a little bit of fun tonight, after all.

"What took you so long, pretty boy?"