There it was again.  That obnoxious buzzing sound.  Fortunately it was muffled by Sobi-kun’s warm shoulder and soft hair. 

                Unfortunately, Sobi-kun’s warm shoulder and soft hair were abruptly stolen away from him. 

                Damn all alarm clocks to the lowest levels of hell…and take early mornings with them.

                He mumbled sleepy demands that Sobi-kun get back into bed this INSTANT, and his lover replied sadly that he could not.  Jordan muffledly protested as much as he could before plummeting back into sleep.

 

~About four hours later~

 

                Jordan was startled awake, feeling rather jarred and disoriented.  He quickly realized that this was because he was half on the floor, his legs entangled in the sheets and his feet the only part of him still on the mattress.  He attempted to get up, but between his ensnarled legs and his apparently still asleep feet, he quickly wound up on the floor again.  Getting up with the help of the nightstand, he muttered, rubbing the bump on his head, “And Sobi-kun says I’m graceful.”

                He stumbled his way to the bathroom, a necessary first stop, then, still clad only in blue and white plaid flannel boxers, into the kitchen.  Sobi-kun had already made a pot of coffee.  Granted, it had been made around 8 o’clock, but that was the way Jordan preferred it.  Fresh coffee just didn’t taste right to him. 

                Slugging back black sludge, Jordan returned to the bedroom.  He supposed he ought to shower.  Looking between closet and shower, what wound up making the decision was thinking of Sobi-kun.  Shinji, Yachiko and Brody wouldn’t give a damn if he showered or not, but he wanted to look and smell his best for his best friend and lover.

                His mind shrugged and figured, what the hell, a nice warm shower would be refreshing.

 

~About one minute later~

 

                AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

~About five minutes later~

 

                “GoddamnRekkawieldersandeverywarmthsuckingcellintheirbodies…” Jordan muttered, stalking through the room towards the closet.  “UsingupallthegoddamnedhotwaterIswearI’llmakehimpayforthis…” 

                He pulled clothes out of the closet left and right.  “No.  No.  No.  No.  Yes!”  He pulled on the rich blue turtleneck and shook his rapidly-drying shoulder-length hair out of the neck’s grasp and into his sky blue eyes.  Brushing it away, he yanked on jeans.  Well, he tried to.  It required jumping up and down around the room several times.  He hoped that was just because his legs were still a little wet.

                He pulled on socks and tennis shoes, grabbed the fashionably weather-worn denim jacket and dashed out of the apartment he shared with Sobi-kun.  He dodged through the crowd, ducking and weaving, stopping only once to turn and admire a woman in a scandalously short red dress, who turned, grinned and winked at him, and continued on her way.  He snorted in amusement, grinned, remembered the time, and about dove for the train platform.

 

~About two minutes later~

 

                Jordan restrained himself from FLEEING the train compartment.  It reeked of the stink of humanity, and he could’ve SWORN someone had rubbed against him suggestively.  Shuddering, he picked up his pace.

                He burst into the store, slammed the door shut behind him and slumped against it in relief.

                Shinji and Brody looked up from their respective reading materials, a pocky hanging out of Brody’s mouth.  He was clad in a ratty Superman T-shirt and equally ratty jeans; his dark hair messy and in his face.  Shinji was in a comfortably old but still decent-looking sweater and rather worn khakis.  He pushed his glasses back up his nose.

                “Hey Jordan,” Brody muttered around his pocky.  “Rough commute?”

                “’ey Boss,” Shinji commented.  “More perverts on the train or are you just being chased by another horde of gorgeous young women, while we poor purely straight, upstanding young men couldn’t get an 85 year old woman to even LOOK at us?”

                “HEY!  I could so!” Brody shot.

                “You’d WANT an 85 year old woman?” came a surly juvenile voice emerging from the back room.

                “Hey jerk,” Jordan called.

                “Hey ya dickless wonder,” Yachiko replied sullenly. 

                “Is he in a worse mood than usual?” Jordan hissed to his other two hapless employees as he hung his jacket up.  “I’m usually a ‘fuckin’ faggot’.”

                “Once again his publicly displayed art has been denounced as ‘graffiti’,” Shinji explained.

                “AH.  I understand.  I’m so glad I could provide an outlet for his anger,” Jordan replied drolly.

                “Hey man, we’re at the Age-Old Question again.”

                “OH NOT AGAIN BRODY!”

                “He keeps bringing it up, Boss.”

                “Look, for the last time, I DON’T CARE WHO WOULD WIN IF SUPERGIRL AND BATGIRL FOUGHT!!”

                “JORRRDAAANNNN….”

                “BOSSS!!!”

                “No! No no no no no no!!!!”

                “Awwwwwwwwwww, Jordan-kuuuuuuun.  You shouldn’t be so mean to your employees,” came a chipper voice behind them.

                “Sumire-Chan!” Brody exclaimed.  He noticeably straightened his hair and clothes.  Jordan and Shinji swapped a look, then Jordan leaned forward on the counter and grinned at the petitely cute young girl.

                “Sumire-Chan, it’s far too cold for you to be wearing a skirt that short.”

                She tittered.  “Jordan-kuuuun….”

                Brody quietly laid her subscription on the counter and grinned, pleased beyond description at the warm smile she beamed in his direction.  “Thank you, Brody-kun.”

                Shinji was grinning maniacally as Jordan continued flirting with Sumire-Chan and doing his best Tamahome impression for the shoujo-obsessed girl.  Brody sighed quietly until Sumire-Chan had paid for her comics, smiled at all of them, and left, the short cream-colored skirt Jordan had remarked upon swishing out the door.

                The ostensible manager turned back to his employees and said to Brody in particular, “Just tell her you think she’s the most gorgeous creature to walk the face of the Earth already, will you?”
                “That’s easy for YOU to say, Jordan.  Hell, you DO say it, and you don’t even mean it!  It’s just stupid flirting for you!”

                “That’s why it’s so easy for him to say,” Shinji pointed out reasonably.  “And, conversely, why it’s so hard for you to say.”

                Brody simply sighed again and slumped down to his stool again.  Jordan winked at Shinji, leaned in close to Brody and whispered, “Now imagine Sumire-Chan…as Catwoman.”

                It took him and Shinji five minutes to haul a hormone-dazed Brody off the floor.

 

~About two hours later~

 

                “OUCH,” Shinji winced as the 1 came up.  Brody moaned, and Jordan shook his head.  Yachiko merely pointed and laughed as Jordan sadly announced that not only had he failed in his attempts to seduce any information out of the barmaid, but that she had slapped him, screamed, “PERVERT!” at the top of her lungs, and had had him arrested by the local constable.

                “There’s only one pervert in THIS room,” Yachiko told Shinji, trying to comfort him.  Shinji rolled his eyes and Jordan shrugged it off.  “Yachiko, Brody, your comrade has just been thrown in jail.  What are you going to do?”

                “Eh, who cares about him? It’s his own tough luck,” Brody drawled in his character’s rough voice. 

                “He’s got the money,” Yachiko’s own character pointed out in thickly accented Common.

                “Right, so ‘ow do we get ‘im out then?”

                “Hellllooo…I know there are a collection of hot stud-muffins in here somewhere….”

                “Back here, Rumiko-San!” Shinji called out.

                She walked into the doorway, silhouetted by the brighter lights of the front.  “Awww.  Damn.  I thought there were hot stud-muffins back here.  Instead it’s just you guys.”

                Jordan laughed.  “So nice of you to grace us with your presence, Rumiko-Chan.  Care to sit in on the game?”

                “No.  The last time I did that, you guys spent three hours trying to get into my pants.”

                “Can you blame us?” Jordan grinned at her.

                She chortled.  “Ah, but you wouldn’t let ME get into YOURS, Jordan-kuuuun,” she cooed. 

                “My character has a thing about control.  Besides, Sobi-kun’d skin me.”

                “How is Sobi-kun?”

                “Good.  Verrrrrrrrry good.”

                “Excuse me, I may be sick.”  Yachiko pushed himself away from the gaming table violently and stalked off.

                “Hm.  Sour, that one.  Why do you put up with him, Jordan?”

                “Because he’s a good worker, which we are in sore need of here.  Say, Rumiko-Chan, you wouldn’t want a job would you?  This place needs a woman’s touch.”

                “You mean you BOYS need a woman’s touch, don’t you?”  She winked.  “It’s a tempting offer, but sadly I’ll have to decline  Perhaps if I knew you were available, Jordan…”

                “You’re saying you’d work here for ME?”  Jordan acted shocked and batted his eyelashes, while Brody and Shinji laughed.  “Oh my…my loyalty to my place of employment or my loyalty to Sobi-kun….hmmm….”  He pretended to deliberate it melodramatically, back of hand pressed against forehead, complete with many “Woe”’s and “Alas”es, before finally announcing in the same drama queen voice, “Oh I just CAN’T leave Sobi-kun!! He’s my whole WORLD!!”

                “Oh.  Too bad then.” 

                Returning to normal voice, Jordan asked their most regular customer, “So how’s Daisuke?”

                “Just fine.  He says if he catches any of you boys pawing me, he’ll rip your hands off.”

                “Tell him he’ll have to deal with a Level Nine magician first!” Shinji declared.

                “Who’s in jail at the moment for sexual molestation and attempted rape,” Jordan reminded him.

                “Damn die.  I swear it’s rigged so I botch…” he scowled down at it.

                “Then why do you use it?” Brody asked.

                “It’s my lucky die,” Shinji answered.

                “Is my subscription here yet?” Rumiko interrupted from the doorway.

                “Sure thing.  Came in yesterday.”  Jordan swung himself off the chair he was straddling and headed for the front counter…at least until Rumiko-Chan blocked the way.  “I can’t get your comics until you move,” he reminded her, grinning.

                “Maybe I don’t want just my comics?”

                “Ah, Rumiko-Chan, I would be honored to have the most gorgeous woman on the planet sleep with me, but I am already sleeping with an angel descended straight from the heavens….and he can be a vengeful angel at that,” he finished with a wink.  She laughed and let him pass.  He could just barely hear Shinji and Brody take up the flirting thread where he’d left off, with much less success.  Jordan had been flirting with girls since the age of 10 or so; it’d taken Brody and Shinji until the age of 18 to just be able to TALK to them without stumbling (and they still had trouble).

                Of course, to be fair, there were times when just looking at Sobi-kun took HIS breath away and robbed him of coherent speech, that was for sure.

                He pulled Rumiko’s comics out of the box, and presented them to her with a low bow.  “My Lady’s Requested Subscription,” he intoned.

                She laughed in that slightly smoky voice of hers and took them gratefully, presenting him with the requested money.  “As always, it has been a true pleasure doing business with you boys.  Take care of yourselves, and Jordan?”

                “Hmm?” He looked up.

                “Take care of Sobi-kun.”  She winked and strolled languidly out, inviting every pair of male eyes in the place to watch her exit.  Most of them had been watching her anyway, pretending to flip through comics.  Those with more presence of mind had tried to find something vaguely intellectual to pretend to read, as a means of hopefully impressing her.  Sorry guys, she’s gonna be married in the spring…Jordan thought, smirking.

                As soon as the alien female presence disappeared, all males began acting normally and discussing her legs, her hips, her bust, her face, analyzing and rating.  All males except the employees, who merely shook their heads and laughed, talking about good ol’ Rumi-Chan.

 

~About four hours later~

 

                “See you tomorrow guys, hmm?” Jordan called.  They all waved, except for Yachiko, who ignored him vigorously.  One of these days, you’ll let all that hatred go and admit you like me, Yachiko, he thought towards the sulkingly disappearing form. 

                He hopped on the commuter train, considerably less crowded at the moment, thankfully.  He managed to find a seat for a few stops, until an older woman came on.  Jordan bowed out of his seat and helped her into it as she smiled up at him gratefully.  “What a nice young man.”

                “Yes, well, I was raised to be nice to pretty little things such as yourself,” he told her gallantly.  She laughed.

                “I’m old enough to be your grandmother, boy.”

                He acted as though he were shocked and continued amusing her until his stop.  He gave her a “parting-is-such-sweet-sorrow” act, which she laughed at, and bowed his way off the train.  Strolling along, singing quietly to himself (“…’cause heroes come and heroes go/Are you ready?/Are you ready for us to come?….”),  he stopped along the way to pick up some Chinese.  It was his night to cook, or at least to provide dinner.  Granted, it wasn’t Uncle Shu’s or Mama Shu’s Chinese, but it wasn’t bad for quick take-out.

                He made a dramatic entrance to the apartment, exclaiming to most of the hallway as well as anyone inside the flat, “TADAIMAAAA!!!!”  He kicked the door shut, set the Chinese on the table, and tossed his jacket on the couch.  “Sooooobi-kuuuuuuuuun.”  He grabbed the chopsticks out of the kitchen, put them with the Chinese food, and continued his search. 

                Not in the shower.  Damn, there went that idea.

                Not in the bedroom either.

                Pouting, he went to the answering machine.

                *BEEP!!*  Hiya Sobi-kun, Jordan-kun!! Ami-Chan desu yo!! Just calling to see how you two were…*chuckle* making out.  Give me call, hmm?  Ja mata ne!!

                *BEEP!!*  Jordan-kun, I have to stay late at the studio.  I’m sorry.  I’ll be home as soon as I can.  I love you. 

                Jordan sighed.  Eh, well, it wasn’t Sobi-kun’s fault. 

                He realized that that was the first time that day that he’d heard Sobi-kun’s voice.  Well, he’d said something earlier that morning, but it was all sleep-hazed in Jordan’s memory.  He deleted the messages, grabbed a pair of chopsticks, a box of mandarin chicken and another of steamed rice, and dialed Ami-Chan’s number.

 

~About two hours later~

 

                Jordan woke with a grunt and looked up to see Hiasobi standing over him, smiling warmly down at him.

                “I’m sorry to wake you.  You looked so cute, Jordan.”

                “Boy, you’re nice to wake up to,” was Jordan’s only comment.  “There’s some cold Chinese on the table you can reheat if you want.”

                He shook his head.  “The only thing I want to warm up is laying on the couch half-asleep.”

                Jordan grinned.  “Then help me up, studpuppy,” he demanded, reaching a hand out.  Sobi-kun’s hand slid into his own and his grin warmed into a smile as he was pulled into those warm, strong arms.  “And you know what, you don’t even need to use chopsticks.”

                “Finger food?” Sobi-kun asked, mirroring his former grin.

                “I’m not going there,” Jordan laughed. “But I’ll tell you where I am going, and where you’re going with me, if I have anything to say about it.”

                “Where’s that?”

                “The bedroom.  C’mon.”  He punctuated this comment with a kiss and thought, as he did so, that, as much as he hated routine, this was one routine that he’d definitely grown to love.