White

White

A Digimon, Taito fic.


Chapter: 2


His father was out at a conference. Stupid dad. He was left all alone in the house, as usual.
Left to his own devices.
He hadn’t even touched the porn. Or himself.
Yet he was hard. Really hard.
He’d seen this girl today; beautiful, so sexy it hurt. And her image had followed him home, winking and flirting as she had on passing him in the street.
He wanted to touch himself, but there was this block it seemed.
Almost like he thought it would hurt. Every time he reached for his prick, it would pulse, painful, like an animal snapping at him, so he would jerk away, and continue to stare at the ceiling.
And what made it even worse, was Tai’s words in his head. That…option…
That conversation had been a month ago now, and Matt had left it behind, just like all the stupid things Tai said. So when they interacted afterwards, there was no awkwardness, nothing to show what they’d ‘discussed’.
The day after, Tai had shot him a look that Matt could quite plainly read as saying ‘see, we’re acting fine and normal; talking about it didn’t screw anything up.’
But talking about something was…innocent. It didn’t damn you. Not like they’d done anything beyond Tai jerking off in the bathroom.
What made the whole thing worse was that they both knew.
They pretended to be asleep. Every time; of course they did. You didn’t confront someone, even your best friend, about that. It was private and personal and you just pretended that you had been asleep and you hadn’t heard every whimper and moan, the shuffling sounds of cloth being shifted in a rhythmic pattern. But they both knew, that at least once, they’d been caught. They both knew that at least once, the other had lain awake, listening to them…groaning.
Was it a mark of friendship that they kept it in the shadows? Or just a guy thing, that they ignored it when the fact that they could still act so normal, so close, even after…meant they could maybe have faced it head on and still come out okay. No pun intended. But the simple truth was, they could only cross those barriers when prompted, not by themselves.
And so that weighed in his mind; not the memory of listening, or the catalogue of sounds he’d subconsciously recorded. No, God no. Just the fact, that they really were, capable. Just the understanding that they could do it and be okay.
Yamato reached out again, and again his own cock shied away from him. What a weird way to think of it…
He was aching for relief, and he knew that he couldn't satisfy the need inside him on his own. He had a feeling that simply masturbating wasn't going to make the desire go away.
He rubbed both hands over his face, growling. Fine. He was a big boy. He could admit defeat. He could.
(He wasn't just making excuses; just because he was a healthy teenager didn't mean he would leap at the chance to engage in anything with anyone…)
He sat up on his bed, pulling up his grey jogging bottoms just because the ghost of his father’s presence lingered and he wouldn’t feel comfortable wandering around with his dick hanging out.
He ruffled his hair, realising he was trying to delay what he’d already deemed inevitable.
Shuffling off the bed, straightening it.
Glancing around the room nervously before putting anything out of order back into it.
Tai had been in his room countless times, had seen it at its worst, had helped him clean it on reluctant occasion; but now he wanted to make sure everything was…not perfect, that sounded weird, but in place. Nothing to betray him.
Satisfied that everything was in place he left his bedroom, closing his door silently behind him and walking an awkward gait with the stick in his pants.
The material of his joggers was soft but it was still rough enough to cause friction as it moved over his cock. He hissed every step of the way.
Out in the main room, he scanned the area, looking for anything untidy.
Nothing. He cleaned this part regularly. His dad wasn’t particularly clean, so Yamato took care of most of the apartment and now it was subconscious; a reflex action to pick up and wash up even if things were just done being used.
At least he didn’t have to struggle to clean up in here.
So now, he waddled ('what the hell?') to the phone on the stand, staring at it balefully for a moment.
This is a new low Ishida. A brand new low.
He couldn’t believe he’d even considered this, let alone let himself get this far. It was just ridiculous. It was absurd. It was a joke!
So why was his hand reaching for, picking up the receiver; why was his other hand fisting but for one finger; why oh god why, was said finger hovering over the numbers.

As Yama hung up, all he could think was that maybe he should have showered before he’d called…


He wouldn’t say he’d been expecting the call. That would imply he wasn’t surprised when he picked up the receiver and Matt had all but gasped into his ear.
But still, he had a feeling that the blonde had just needed time – and enough blood flow in one particular direction…to realise the intelligence of the plan.
Not that Tai had any master schemes. He just wanted to get off. And Yama was Yama.
So of course, he’d accepted and kept his voice at normal tones, not squeaking at the notes of barely concealed longing in his friend's voice, at the discomfort he could feel on the other end of the line. His parents were watching TV and if he made any high pitched noises they would get worried. He knew.
So he kept calm, so he let Yamato stammer out his words, struggling and silently damning Taichi the whole while for not simply saving him the trouble by confessing that he knew exactly what the blonde wanted.
It had been amusing. Yama had darted around the subject like a hunter watching a dangerous prey; keeping distance, lunging in every now and then to see if he could get close enough but always falling back in the end.
And Taichi let him, not helping him in the least. Because he’d stuck his own neck out that night weeks ago, and Matt had almost bitten it off. So now Matt had to put himself on the line.
Yama had made small talk, his voice cracking as Tai made various innocent innuendoes at his expanse.
It had gone on for ten minutes, and Tai had been in the middle of a particularly raunchy story – if you looked at it just right – when Yamato had snapped.
His words would be forever written into Tai’s mind. Tai would never ever forget that note of desperation, that anger and the embarrassment, that confession…
“Godamnit Tai! Just get over here and get me off!”
Yes, Taichi would hold those words close to his chest, and over Matt’s head next time he needed leverage for something.
He’d hung up the phone with the biggest grin he’d had for a while.
His parent’s had been a little worried he’d left the house so late at night, but he calmly explained that he and Yamato had forgotten about an assignment that they needed to do together. Now.
Telling them a more social reason would have meant they kept him home and let him leave tomorrow. Telling them the truth would probably have given them heart attacks, or at least sent them into shock. Of course, that would have facilitated his going to Matt’s, seeing as how he could then take money from his dad’s wallet for a taxi, but the after affects, that would have been troublesome. Plus, Kari would never forgive him if he killed their parents.
So sad.
She had been there too, and she might not have had a heart attack or gone into shock. No, she might have just asked…questions…ones he really didn’t want to answer for his little sister.
So instead, he lied, they bought it (reluctantly) and he used his own money to get a taxi to Yama’s.
He packed some clothes to wear for the next day, and waited, perfectly at ease for the cab to arrive.
He didn’t fidget, he didn’t rub…anything…and he didn’t whistle. Bleh.
No one, no one at all could have looked at him and realised he’d just got a booty call from his best friend.
No one.

Standing outside Yamato’s door, Taichi felt slight apprehension.
Not because they were about to get a whole lot more intimate…but about what he would have to do.
Of course, they’d already agreed it was a follow the leader kind of thing, where you had to match each action if you wanted to be on the receiving end, so at least whatever he did, he wouldn’t be alone in.
That gave him some comfort.
He already had the perfect fantasy in mind. It was one of his favourite figures, and perhaps a little too sordid to ever share with Yama, but just the inkling that he was going to let his mind wander down those erotic highways and byways was already making heat pool in his groin and stomach. Not that he ever needed much of an excuse.
Yes. Fantasies were fun. Heh.
His attraction and arousal were solidified. He’d get what he wanted.
Lifting a loose fist, he knocked on the door. He would have used the buzzer, but a part of him thought it too shrill a sound for this delicate moment.


Matt opened the door, clad still as he had been 20 minutes ago, grey joggers and baggy white t.
He didn’t meet Tai’s eyes, just pulled the door open wide and stepped back, letting the brunette – who was grinning broadly – in.
It was only after Tai was in that he realised his erection was pretty frickin’ prominent.
No way Tai could miss it, not with the way he raked his eyes up and down Yamato’s body.
Tai himself was clad in a blue t and black over shirt with black jeans.
And Yamato was doing the exact same thing, looking him over.
Were they really both judging their soon to be partner?
Tai’s smile brightened and he stopped watching Matt, wandering further into the apartment and leaving the blonde by the door.
He dropped his bag by the sofa and turned back to Yamato.
Mind whizzing like a sparkler, Yamato was suddenly very aware that he was about to do…stuff…with Taichi.
Oh the humanity…
“Safe words.” Tai said abruptly.
“Anou?”
“Safe words, remember? It’s just that sometimes during sex you know, you get carried away and even when the other person says stop, you don’t because you know that even though they say stop and don’t and stuff, they really do want you to continue…so to avoid confusion. Safe words. You say it, and I’ll stop, no matter what.”
Yama felt a flash of anger. Was he being painted as the 'uke' one in this?
“And I’ll do the same.” He ground out, trying to sound normal but still coming off pissed.
This only amused Tai further as he leaned back on the sofa.
“So. Pick a word.” He gestured at Yamato. “May I recommend swordfish?”
“What?”
“Nothing. But it should really be a small word, something easy to gasp out.” Tai crossed one arm over his stomach and used it to support his other as it propped up his chin.
Yamato watched him thinking, before turning his own mind to the search.
“How about ‘white?” He asked after a moment.
“White? Yeah? Alright then. White it is. You say white, I stop.” He paused and Yamato felt a glare set in. “I say white, you stop.” He finished, smiling smugly.
Silence fell upon them both; Tai remained bright but Yamato started to fidget. Now what? And his erection was still troubling him. God that girl had been beautiful. And that dress had been way too short.
“So.”
“So.”
“The bedroom?” Tai asked, watching Matt fidget with great interest. It was hard to keep his eyes from straying to the tent in the blonde’s pants, and every time his eyes snapped back up to Matt’s face, he had to remind himself that he could look now. At least in this situation.
“Yeah.” Matt said.
Neither of them moved.
They just kept looking at each other.
Matt couldn’t stop his gaze from wandering to Tai’s crotch. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but then he wasn’t exactly that familiar with Tai’s crotch anyway.
Tai laughed shortly, dropping his head.
He rubbed at his forehead for a moment.
Yamato would need to be walked carefully through this. He wasn’t the sexual deviant that Tai was. So Tai had to be gentle.
So, gently;
“Come here.” He said softly, holding out one hand and looking back up at the blonde.
Matt started, eyeing the hand and Tai’s now lazily smiling face, and advanced. That tone had startled him, but he was not gonna let it get in the way.
He clasped Tai’s hand in his own, noting then just how rough it was. They’d touched hands before, shaken and even held them when they were younger, but Yamato had never realised just how coarse Tai’s were. He wondered if the rest of Tai was so harsh.
The brunette on the other hand was marvelling at how soft Yamato’s palms were. True, he had calluses from playing the guitar, but mostly, his skin was supple and smooth.
Tai’s smile brightened, and he looked up from their hands to beam affectionately at the blonde.
For a scary second, it felt too much like they were about to have sex, as a couple, as lovers, and Yamato wanted to pull his hand out of Tai’s and run. But he didn’t. Because his erection would have stopped him running anywhere. And because Tai’s hand was warm and Tai was thinking about his own pretty face, not Yamato’s.
Tai felt it too, and wondered what it would be like to be with Yamato like that. A vibrant image of blood, everywhere, filled his mind and he almost laughed.
He stood up, still holding Yamato’s hand and led the blonde to the bedroom, opening the neatly closed door and walking inside, noting the shuffling gate of his company and finding it highly amusing.
Yama's heart was racing, going so fast that he was beginning to feel light headed as they entered his room.
Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he should call the whole thing off. Tai would understand. Tai wouldn’t mind. Tai would laugh, but he wouldn’t make Yamato do anything he didn’t want to.
White.
Tai turned to him then, still smiling that perfectly loving smile.
He let go of the blonde's hand and felt some reassurance was in order.
Cupping soft cheeks in his rough hands, he brought their faces closer.
“We can stop this now, if you want. We don’t have to do anything.” At those words, Matt’s prick twitched and sent very clear messages that it wanted attention, right now, and from someone other than his own hand.
Matt shook his head.
“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”
“We’ll take it slow, alright?” Tai half asked, and Matt nodded.
“One thing though, is it alright if I kiss you?” Tai felt a thrill of worry at the way the blonde’s face paled at the request but Matt, although deeply terrified by the prospect, still nodded.
Would Tai taste nice? He was about to find out.
“Alright then. And remember, just say white.” Tai said, leading them both back to the bed, hands still cupping his face.
Again, that anger at the presumption that he was the uke. And filled with desperation to assure otherwise, Yamato made the first move.
He wrapped one arm around Tai’s waist and pulled their bodies together. Close, so close, that their chests met and their noses bumped and their crotches–
Yama muffled the gasp as Tai’s very warm, very solid, very other body met his straining erection.
His shoulders tightened, his whole body rigid, before almost falling limp. He turned his face away, unable to bear having Tai so close and having to look at him too.
Tai felt much the same shock, but it passed quickly. Now he fully indulged in his own fantasies, his own erection beginning to make itself known. So of course, he ground into Yamato’s groin, dropping his hands from Yamato’s face and wrapping them around Yamato’s shoulders.
This renewed stimulation kept Matt rigid, and he let his other arm encircle Tai too, incidentally grabbing the brunette’s arse as he tried to hold Tai close, and stop the idiot from moving. His head rested awkwardly on Tai’s shoulder, the shorter man doing the same.
Being far more used to this sort of thing, Tai refused to give into Yamato’s shocked efforts at peace.
Rotating his hips, he pushed and pulled against Yamato's hands and body, his eyes tightly closed as he let his mind fill in black leather and the scent of decay and dust.
Sweet and pungent and just slightly wrong. But so fucking hot.
Matt made a strangled sound, trying half heartedly to keep his hips against Tai’s to stunt the movement and the dazzling effect it had.
It was too much, too soon. Wa-ha-hey too much.
One of Tai’s arms dropped to Yamato’s butt, gripping it tightly and earning a yelp that neither really heard, before Tai pulled the flesh to him, pulling Matt’s hip forward and his leg with it, unbalancing the blonde if the brunette cared to notice. Which he didn’t, too caught up in parting his own legs and letting Yamato’s press between them, now rubbing his hardened prick against Matt’s thigh.
The hand still around Matt’s shoulder drifted up to tangle in blonde locks and hold Yama even closer.
For some reason, Matt was finding it very hard to breathe. Tai wouldn’t stop moving, stop grinding against him and now his leg was between Tai’s and it felt pretty amazing and now it wasn’t Tai at all, but that beauty in the too short dress and that dress was riding up as they rocked together and he didn’t care she was taking the lead because he could feel her wetness, sticky (she’s not wearing panties) on his trouser leg because she was grinding herself so hard and she was leaking so much and Yamato’s whole body was tense and her hands were in his hair, tugging and pulling and god, right there, right there, do that again and she did, and she was moaning, his name, over and over again.
Truth be told, Taichi would have preferred to be dominated, just because there was something in him that rebelled against it, something in him that tried to take control. Still, he was more than happy to the lead the action with his pet fantasy, filling in the creaking of leather and the press of breasts against his chest, nipple like pebbles as they rubbed into his skin, even through the layers of cloth, which, if he focussed, weren’t even there at all.
Hair in his fingers, long and silky, like a spider's string, wrapping around his hand and holding him close.
Breath ghosting over his neck and shoulder and cheek, sweet with that same scent and he wanted those lips, that tongue, those teeth, on his skin. So bad.
He couldn’t feel her wetness, couldn’t feel the slickness, but for some bizarre but no doubt kinky reason, he could smell it, could practically taste it, and his fingers itched to coat themselves in that slickness and press into her harder.
Her thigh was thick with corded muscle, so stiff against his erection; no pain, no matter how hard he ground himself in. No pain, just more of his own precum leaking out to wet his boxers. He wanted to take both their secretions and rub them both over with it, mix her juice with his precum. He wondered what it would taste like.
Yamato was making little gasping noises, high-pitched and totally unmanly, but he didn’t care; he didn’t know he was doing it, so of course his beauty didn’t know either.
It was too much. The pleasure he was getting now was immense, and he could sense that the orgasm that would come would be even greater. That thought was scary. That thought was terrifying, but he couldn’t make his body stop. He wasn’t sure why though; he didn’t know why he didn’t want to reach that sort of oblivion, he didn’t know why his body was so lost to him.
A thought flittered in the back of his mind. It spoke of peace. It spoke of a way to bring peace. He couldn’t stop himself, but if he could just grasp that thought, he could stop this.
He felt his fingers twitch as he subconsciously reached out, his beauty oblivious to his panic, still grinding her wetness along his leg, warm and viscous and sticky and thick.
She shifted and Yamato baulked; even more, even more it felt better, and he could feel the edge coming.
In renewed desperation he reached out with mental claws to grab the thought.
All it contained was one word. White.
He opened his mouth, prepared to scream it, prepared to beat it into reality. He couldn’t stop his hips as they moved forward to meet each thrust, but he could make those other thrusts stop. And he had to try. He felt as if his sanity was slipping away. It was too intense. It was too much.
Tai dug his nails into the pert buttock he was gripping like a lifeline and Yamato’s open mouth, instead of screaming that peace-bringing word, let loose a moan he’d never thought himself capable of. So low, too low and throaty, coming from his chest and stomach; his groin more likely.
And the word was gone, and he was pushing his beauty backward, both of them falling onto the bed, scrambling for a hectic moment to move up the covers he’d so compulsively arranged earlier, so that they could lie properly on the bed, not have their feet hanging off the edge.
All through this though, they kept up the thrusts, meeting clumsily and sometimes painfully as they thrust at the wrong angle. But those instances were forgotten as soon as they settled back into position: Yamato on top, his left leg between Tai’s, his right pushed further out to force him lower onto Tai’s thigh, his head tucked neatly by Tai’s ear, arms tight to Tai’s side to pull against him with every downward thrust. Tai’s own arms were around Yamato’s shoulders and waist, still holding that buttock, the leg he had between Yama’s bent up to add to the friction for the blonde.
They both arched up to meet, small, hard nipples, digging into each other; Tai’s extra layers dampening faster with sweat that ran in trickles down his body, pricking his super sensitive skin. Yamato’s own baggy shirt was becoming moist, though of course his joggers suffered worst, beads of moisture forming on the planes of his hips and thighs and being rubbed into the material as he rubbed into Tai.
It was purely basic and animalistic, writhing and rubbing against something hard, something there, something other; another surface to add to the dimension of the experience; more than your own hand, better than your own fingers, there, and not a fantasy.
Yamato jaggedly trailed one hand down Tai’s side. Letting it rest on his hip and kneading into the skin there, feeling and seeing in his minds eye an expanse of pale smooth skin where he’d pushed up the dress, and if he dragged his fingers just so, he could feel short shaven curls, neat and slightly coarse. Just a little bit further and he would plunge slicked fingers into her opening.
He was vaguely aware of the fingers trailing over his hip, pressing into his lower abdomen, rubbing in little circles. Moving closer to where he wanted the attention.
Her fingers, around him; oh god, but that would feel good. And now he was bucking hard enough to bruise, his arms tightening around her form, pinning her inadvertently, holding her close, her entire weight pressed into him, those smoothly curving, giving breasts squashed against him. He could see her juices running down her thighs and making her patch of coarse hair sticky under that leather. Making her already waxy skin shine.
His beauties arms around him held him trapped and he couldn’t continue his quest to probe her, but that didn’t matter, because just the suggestion was making her buck up against him harder; her wetness had soaked the thigh of his joggers and now he could feel her layers, the folds of skin and the prize nub which she was jerking him against over and over again, moaning erratically and panting through pink lips, heady and heavy.
Her breasts were under him, almost directly under his own pecks, her nipples so close to his own that if he moved just a little, they would rub against each other. It was difficult with the grip she had on him, but he managed, and that earned him a gasp.
Meeting now, at so many stiff points; it was too much and just enough.
Yamato went first, his body driving hard into Tai’s thigh, body rigid even as it was pulled in on itself.
Riding high on the all consuming wave, everything faded out, going from white to black as light burst behind his eyes and eventually blinded him.
It spread like ripples the size of Tsunamis from his erupting prick, making his locking muscles judder with each and every hit.
It was awesome.
Tai hadn’t been waiting so long as Matt, so he was still aiming for that edge as Yamato hit the bottom in a belly flop that knocked the wind out of him, and left him just laying there.
With Yama now pretty much lifeless, Tai had to take things into his own hands.
Both hands were now firmly locked on Yama’s ass, wrenching him forward into Tai’s groin with all the muscle he could muster in his body.
He manhandled Yama’s hips, pulling him in circles as he held him close.
Back in his fantasy, he could finally feel the wetness he’d been aware of and longing for all along. On his thigh, leaking deeper through the material and into his flesh it seemed, hot and sticky and deliciously wet.
With a final tug, Tai somehow pulled Yama’s body directly over his, an interesting feet considering their intertwined legs should have prevented this, but nevertheless, it was done and now their crotches met in a sticky mess, Matt’s cum staining his joggers and seeping through to dampen and whiten Tai’s jeans. And maybe that moist warmth got through to Tai’s sensitive crotch because that was the last straw.
Tai curved up, around Yamato, his right leg lifting up to twine around Yama’s left between his knees, his whole body convulsing around the single most important point of contact: their wet dicks.
Finally, the feelings passed and Tai’s muscles relaxed, letting him fall limply back with Yamato entirely on top of him.
Although the pressure might end up suffocating him, right then, it was pleasurable to have the weight on him. A reminder he wasn’t alone.
Matt, mostly out of it during Tai’s desperate struggle for completion, was now a little more awake, and was sulkily thanking the part of his mind that demanded he get someone else’s attention for his aching dick, rather than deal with it himself. It felt a hell of a lot better than his hand.
The position wasn’t exactly comfy, but his muscles were tired and his mind numb, so it was easy enough to let the exhaustion and satisfaction lull him deeper into unconsciousness. He would have made it all the way there if Taichi hadn’t rolled him off.
With two bodies, both perspiring and radiating heat, they had been more than warm mere moments ago but now separated, with damp cloth exposed to what was relatively cool air, the two teens were uncomfortably cold.
Matt was almost laid on his side, and in the face of the cold, he curled up, his knees knocking into Tai’s side because they really weren’t that far away from each other.
Tai didn’t have the energy just yet to move; pushing Yama off had taken it all out of him.
Blinking, the brunette let awareness return. He glanced sideways to Yamato who seemed blissfully oblivious, and didn’t feel too bad about the whole experience. He smiled a little; he had been right, Yama and he could do this and be fine. He sure as hell didn’t feel weird.
But then, Yama was always gonna be the make or break case.
He sat up a little, the muscles in his stomach protesting at their use when they had only just managed to relax.
Tai searched around almost blindly because they hadn’t turned the light on and after his orgasm, someone may as well have shone a torch in his face, his night vision broken just as adeptly.
He finally caught a hold of a blanket that Yamato had folded on the bottom of his bed. With awkward jerks he tugged it up over both him and Yama, curling clumsily onto his side to face his blonde fuck buddy.
Boy it felt nice thinking that, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders. No more worrying about getting off, about all that sexual tension. Nope, now he had his own personal willing body, with no strings attached. Yes, he felt very good about the whole situation.
Yamato cracked open an eye when he felt the blanket settle around his shoulders and a weight draw closer.
Taichi.
Both eyes open now, he took in the satisfied, happy look Tai was giving him.
He’d just dry humped his best friend.
And, he didn’t mind so much.
Not minding scared him more than the act itself, which was kinda silly. But it was there.
“So.” Tai said, still smiling.
“So.” Yamato said in turn.
“You okay? You came pretty hard.” It was easy to talk like this. Their first encounter and Tai already felt like he’d been humping Yamato from day one.
Yama’s face coloured a little at the remark, but he nodded. He was okay. He was better than okay. He felt good. More sated than he could ever remember.
There were definitely…benefits.
A win-win situation, Tai had called it.
“Let’s get some sleep, okay?” Tai said, still smiling.
Yama nodded. And Tai moved closer, loosely laying an arm over Yama’s waist. They’d likely get too hot like this, but for now, it was okay. It was just fine.
They’d slept like this before, in the same bed…they’d spooned and forked before. So it was just a little bit of the familiar mixed in with a whole new sensation.
Yamato wondered dully if he’d regret this in the morning, but knew Tai would probably knock it into his thick head that it was okay for them to do this. It was just great if they did more.
“You know, we never did kiss.” Tai mused, watching Yama’s internal monologue through his blue eyes.
It was stupid, even more stupid than the fear of the lack of fear, but Yama blushed at the implication.
He knew it, Tai knew it: an invitation.
So the brunette leaned in gently, brushing his lips over Yama’s in a far softer thing than one would have though the brunette capable of, given the force he'd displayed earlier.
Pulling back, both sets of lips felt colder without the other.
Yama smiled in kind to Tai’s, and the brown eyes closed for sleep.
Blue stayed open a moment longer.
What was the word he was supposed to say again? The safe word?
He leaned in a little closer, till his forehead was just nudging Tai’s.
It was a little late, but something in him wanted to prove that he could. That he could say it and stop this.
“White.” He whispered, as Tai fell asleep, never knowing that the blonde may have just tried to end it when it had only just begun.


A/N: This is the only chapter with such prominent het themes, so if you didn't like the het please persevere.
If you can guess who Tai's fantasy is, good for you (I don't think it's that hard).