Saburo emerged from his covers with a wide yawn and sleep blurred eyes. Tossing the sheets to one side, he climbed over his mattress and the end of Jiro's rather than try to shuffle through the stacks of books Jiro had left there. Jiro complained with a soft grunt and pulled back the foot that was squeezed beneath Saburo's weight, but otherwise did not stir. Saburo would have ignored him anyway as he yawned once more, before heading into the bathroom to deal with his bladder.

The toilet gurgled as it flushed and a gasp escaped Saburo's mouth as the cold water from the sink sprayed over his hands. There was such a thing as too cold! Drying his hands on the towel, he re-emerged and made his way to the kitchen to heat up some milk. He paused midway through the living space, drowsily blinking as he realised that this morning, he was not the first one into the kitchen. Ichiro was already there.

In his memories, Ichiro was not one for the kitchen; did not cook, could not cook and couldn't be relied on to wash up either, though he did used to do it before Saburo took over the task completely. At this moment, however, Ichiro was in the kitchen, attempting to fix the cupboard doors and humming contentedly as he did so. "I think I might need to glue this on," he mumbled as he tested his handiwork.

"Ichiro?" Saburo called out in question, wondering if he was actually still in bed, dreaming.

A bright smile greeted him. "Good morning, Saburo!" Ichiro said, before hesitating in recall of something. He made a flustered motion before taking a pan off of the hob and turning off of the gas. The pan steamed lightly and Ichiro poured the creamy contents into a mug before bringing it to Saburo, blowing away gently the rising heat as he did so. "Ah, be careful, it's hot," he stated as he handed it to his little brother.

Saburo took it with a confused look, the scent of warm milk filling his senses and drawing him into taking a sip. The temperature was just how he liked it and there wasn't the taste of burnt cream at all!

"Is Jiro getting up?" Ichiro asked him, glancing at a cup with a dry teabag in it. "I know he doesn't like his tea stewed too strongly, so I've only boiled the kettle for him."

"Ichiro?" Saburo scratched head and questioned him once more. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy," Ichiro replied and began to hum once more as he rinsed the saucepan.

Saburo thought over his answer for a moment and then his lips began to curve broadly. "Does this mean your date went well?" He parked his bottom onto one of the stools to listen for Ichiro's response. The saucepan slipped to clatter in the sink, before Ichiro quickly grabbed it, pretending that his fumble had not happened.

"Not a date," Ichiro retorted in denial. "It was two guys hanging out. Remember that!"

"Sure, sure," Saburo yawned and continued to sip his warm milk. Jiro emerged from their bedroom not long after and on seeing this, Ichiro hurried to finish making the cup of tea for him. Jiro took a seat next to his younger brother, staring at the hot beverage before him with wide eyes for a moment, before exchanging a glance with Saburo. The younger boy simply grinned brightly, his milk moustache obvious.

"Good date then," Jiro stated as he sipped the unsweetened tea.

"It was not a date!" Ichiro insisted on this fact.

"No, not a date," Saburo giggled into his fist before enquiring; "so are you two going to 'hang out' again?"

Ichiro paused as he wiped down the sides with the dishcloth. "It's not an impossibility," he replied, lightly as if he didn't care either way. "I mean, it would be good to have a guy friend. Hanging out with women is all good and all, but you have to deal with the make up trips to the bathroom, holding doors for them and..." he shuddered, dramatically, "girl talk."

Saburo tilted his head, cutely and teased; "what constitutes as girl talk?"

"Surely it's anything said by a girl," Jiro pointed out in a matter of fact way.

Ichiro wrinkles his nose. "Of course not," he replied, not realising that his cute brothers were teasing him. "It's all that talk about feminine problems, fashion and celebrity gossip. I really do not want to know if some guy has genuine abs or if it is photoshopped!"

"Ooo I do!" Saburo laughed, joyfully. "Are Zandre's abs really as rock hard as they appear to be in the magazines?" Ichiro's face was dyed red within an instance.

"You.. you.. you..!" Ichiro stuttered within a fluster. "Where did you see such a thing?! I mean, why would you be looking at such an image?! How did you get such a picture?!"

"Huh?" Saburo stared at him, incredulously. "Wait, you do know your hot boyfriend is a rising rugby star, don't you?"

"Well, I know he plays rugby," Ichiro muttered, tossing the dishcloth into the sink to hide his growing embarrassment. "And he's not my boyfriend! I'll remind you that I am straight!" He paused and glanced over at his little brother, before finally asking; "Zandre, is he famous or something?"

Saburo nodded with exuberant enthusiasm. "Not like, hugely famous or superstar level," Saburo replied, worried he might freak his older brother out, send him running back towards that great Egyptian river or something. "But he could be considered as something of a next generation face of the sport..." not to mention body.

"Oh," Ichiro said, in an expressionless tone. Well it would explain how the man had come to find him through Livvie, a fairly well known journalist and editor in her circles. A silence descended over them and the boys quickly finished their drinks, intending to run before Ichiro roped them into unwanted chores. It was the weekend and Ichiro had classes starting soon. Unfortunately, Ichiro figured out what they were up to, despite the distraction of his own thoughts. "Don't even think about escaping! I have bills due and need you two to hand out leaflets again!"

The boys groaned in unison. It would have been better to help entertain the children's mothers.

"And Saburo," Ichiro added as he began cleaning up their cups.

"Yes, Ichiro?"

"I'm confiscating that magazine," Ichiro mentioned, carelessly. "You are too young to be going about ogling men's bodies."

Saburo grinned, happy to be punished, this time.  "No problem, Ichiro."

*****

Zandre closed his eyes as the hot spray from the shower hit his skin and began to rinse the sweat and dust from the day's training from his body.  His muscles felt warm with the slight ache that indicated they'd been well used today, but not so much that they hurt.  That would be an indication of strain from overwork or injury, neither Zandre suffered from, for which he was grateful.  The team had a game later this week and the coach had decided on their positions.

"Much like the last game," he told them, calling out names and positions, with just a couple of adjustments.  "Connolly, you're playing right wing, while Cheng will be positioned in Outside Centre, I think those explosive legs of yours would better serve here.  Of course, if neither of you can handle it, we have plenty of experienced bench warmers ready to take over."

Zandre was usually in the position of the Flanker, mostly blindside, but due to his big physique, he'd taken on the role of Lock's in his university days.  But in the professional leagues, not only were there more talented players than himself, there were up and coming younger players waiting to steal his spot as well.  The pressure was always on all sportsmen, but Zee kind of liked it.  A little competition was an excellent motivator.  Of course, not everyone thought so.

"Oh look, the rising rugby star has been benched, again," Dan Bowler jeered. 

Zandre turned his head just a tad to look at him, briefly, before returning his attention to the coach's training plan, written on the reverse side of the white board with their positions on it, for the strength workout they had scheduled in a couple of days.  Dan was excellent went it came to playing rugby and a reliable Fly-half, but in part due to his obsession with the game, he stopped being a team player the moment he walked off of the field.  Of course, his fans didn't know about his shit off-field attitude.  The man had issues with most of the team, with their gameplay, their throws and such, but he seldom was overly obvious about it, just squeezing in snide comments here and there when the coach wasn't about.  However, when it came to Zandre, the man had no filter whatsoever.

Zee was used to ignoring it and didn't bother to let it get to him now, either.  Other players eye-rolled the clear provocation, but left it be.  Dan happened to be the coach's favourite player on the team as well and listened to the man's 'humble' opinion on the players.  It wasn't worth their effort crossing him.  Lewis Griffin, another frequent bench warmer, wrapped his smaller, but no less muscular frame about Zee's shoulders.  "We're just being kept in reserve for when the coach needs some real talent on the field," he laughed, jokingly, although Dan did not see the funny side of it and stormed off.

"You'll be benched for the rest of your contract," Zee pointed out, not bothering to glance over his shoulder.

"But that guy irritates the fuck out of me!" Lewis grumbled.  "I know I'm nothing special when compared to others on the team, but you are a good player!  Why the fuck are you still benched?"

"Haven't you realised it yet," Connolly Davis pointed out as he grabbed his sweater from the back of his chair, having earlier forgotten it after the coach dismissed them.  "Zee's been benched practically ever since that beach shot image came out in that magazine, when he also got dubbed as a rising star in the game."

"The paparazzi were after shots of 'Lani," Zee sighed, recalling that they'd travelled to a small, private beach or at least, it was supposed to have been private.  Some of the images shot of her in that string bikini were provocative enough to have looked staged, but she had cried upon his shoulder most of the evening when they'd shown up in cheap magazines and in the daily gossip newspapers.  He'd done his best to comfort her, reassure her that it wasn't her fault.

But from those images, he'd gained a small following, people wanting to know who he was.  So her agent had insisted that they announce his identity and who he was in relation to 'Lani to the public to help her retain some of her image.  It wasn't as if as a rugby player that he was completely out of the public's eyes, so he hadn't thought much about it.  He'd even allowed himself to be convinced to sign up with their entertainment agency and was assigned his own managing agent.  Who knew that he'd put a certain other player's nose out of joint when things blew up outside his control?  At least the team's manager seemed happy with all the extra attention to the team and sport in passing.

"Your girl won't want to come to a game to see you on the bench again," Lewis mentioned as they grabbed their coats, heading out of the stadium. 

Zee shrugged; "Doesn't matter, we broke up."  And he had no plans yet to invite Ichiro; he doubted his skittish Omega would even come.

Lewis was startled for a moment.  "For real?  When? Recently?"

"About a month now," Zandre replied, honestly. 

"Dude, I think you better remind her then," Lewis sighed and flickered through a couple of webpages to bring up the young soap-star's most recent interview.  Zandre brows furrowed, instantly.

Author's note; I may have said this before, but I know nothing of rugby, so although I have done some research, I can't be perfectly sure about strategies of the game or whether a coach for rugby would speak like this!  That said, this is a work of fiction, so I can demand a bit of leniency, I hope!