Rainy Days

Chapter Thirty-One: Taco Tuesday, Anyone?

[jordans house–not so early tuesday morning; like 6 a.m.]

"JORDIE. JORDIEEEEE," Klaus whispered. He frowned and leaned out of the bedroom. "Five! Come here and wake your boyfriend up!"

"Boyfriend?" Klaus heard Diego's voice, followed closely by Allison and Luther; Vanya and Ben where most likely just grinning, because Klaus had told them last night that Sweet Little Five had totally fucking made out with Cute Little Jordie.

"Klaus, you son of a bitch," Five appeared, air shining blue around him. He'd jumped from the kitchen to here, which meant that Allison, Diego, and Luther must've been worse than he thought; angry shouts echoed out from downstairs.

"Shouldn't have allowed yourselves to get caught," Klaus said, smirking. "Especially not by me."

"I see that now," Five grumbled. "And Jordan is not my boyfriend."

"Why not? You two would be so damn cute! It makes me a little sick, honestly," Klaus made a face. "Just thinking about how sweet your love life would be."

"It's not my fault you're nearly unlovable."

"Ouch, Five. That hurt." Klaus held a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "That shit hurt right here."

"Go away," Five said, rolling his eyes. Klaus made a little hmph noise and slipped away, patting his brother on the head as he passed.

Five scowled and adjusted his hair in the mirror before focusing on the boy curled up in bed.

Jordan looked smaller when he slept; he curled into a ball, blanket loosely held in his fist and hiding the rest of him, except for the foot that poked out of the blanket. His mouth was open slightly, a thin trail of drool falling into the pillow. The raven-colored curls spread out like a black halo, framing his face. His shoulders rose gently, in an even rhythm, and his freckles looked even more sweet.

Five shook his head; watching someone sleep was creepy. Like Edward. He would not be an Edward.

"Jordan," he said, feeling as though he was disrupting the most peaceful thing in the world. "Jordan, you need to wake up."

Jordan mumbled something Five didn't catch. He moved his hand, letting go of the blanket and instead covering his face.

"Jordie, c'mon," said Five, stepping closer; a pillow was on the ground. He picked it up. "You have to go to school, idiot."

"You're an idiot," Jordan muttered, his voice hoarse. Five smiled softly as the boy rolled over, bringing his legs farther into his stomach. It was a bit surprising how the tall, lanky guy could fold into himself.

"I'm sure I am, Jordie, but you need to wake up." Five tilted his head and judged how hard he should hit Jordan with the pillow.

"No."

"Okay," Five said; Jordan rolled over to face him, eyes barely open, and shrieked as he saw the pillow hurtling towards him. It hit him light enough it didn't hurt, gently enough that it scared him.

"Bastard!" Jordan squeaked. He scrambled into a sitting position, breathing heavily; his eyes where flicking all around the room, hardly resting on Five.