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Ring. Yohji rolled over and
pulled the pillow over his head. "Itai." The sound made his head
pound like it never had before. Riiing. The noise was persistent. Wondering why the hell
hangovers had to be so painful, Yohji sat up and picked up the phone. "Hello," he
drawled into the receiver. "Kudo Yohji speaking." "Hello,
Lovemuffin," purred the seductive voice on the other end of the line. The
voice was male. Yohji blinked, a confused look painted across his face. The
thought of any man calling him "lovemuffin" was more than slightly
disturbing. "Um, who is
this?" he asked warily. "Tch!" the voice
spat, "You don't remember me, Sugar?" A shiver ran up Yohji's
spine. This was extremely disturbing. "No. I—I think I'd definitely
remember someone like you." "Oh, that's
okay," the voice purred, "I wouldn't expect you to remember anyhow.
You were pretty sloshed last night." Yohji's face grew several
shades paler. He did get drunk last night. He didn't know how this man
knew that, but it was disturbing him something fierce. "Oh, we had such a
wonderful time last night!" the voice exclaimed, "You were the best
I've ever had!" Yohji's face went green.
"Um... I'm s—sorry. I don't swing that way." He stopped and
considered what he just said. “I—I mean, I sometimes do, you know, swing that
way. It’s just that, um, the ‘lovemuffin’ thing—I really don’t think you’re my
type. At all. Drunk or sober.” "But you certainly
did last night, Yohji-kun!" Yohji-kun? Yohji’s eyes narrowed.
“Stop calling me that, will ya?” The voice on the other end
of the line ignored him. “There’s something I need
to tell you before we take our relationship to a new level, Yohji-kun,” the
voice said. Yohji sighed. “Listen. I
was drunk, and you’re obviously not my type, and I do not want to pursue
this”—he searched for the right word—“relationship any further.” “I have diseases.” “You un—what?” He
pulled the phone away from his face and stared at it in confusion. “I have diseases,” the
voice said again. Yohji's eyes went wide.
“Oh. You do. Um, what kind of diseases?” he asked nervously. “Syphilis,” the voice
said. “I…see,” Yohji replied. Stay
cool, he told himself. There’s no need to panic. “And genital warts,” the
voice continued. “Oh. I see.” Panic,
Yohji! Panic! “Crabs and Gonorrhea too.” Yohji whimpered. “I—is
that all?” “No,” the voice replied.
“I also have Chlamydia, and I’m HIV Positive.” Yohji shook his head
violently, finally bursting. "Nuh-uh! No way! Yeah, I got plastered last
night, but I would never ever have sex with someone like you!" "You did last
night." Yohji could practically feel the man on the other line grinning.
It scared the shit out of him. "No, no," Yohji
defended himself, "You don't understand. I don't fuck guys with diseases.
I don't care how plastered I get. I can tell, and I only like chicks with big
boobs or guys interested in a quick fuck!" "I look an awful lot
like a girl," the voice explained ingratiatingly, and after a moment
added: “With big boobs. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference when you're
that drunk." There was a frustrated sigh and then, "Poor, poor
Yohji-kun. It must be hard for you. It was pure ecstasy. I can't imagine
forgetting such a blissful experience." Yohji suddenly felt very
sick. He didn't have sex last night. He'd remember it. He always
remembered it. And if he had sex last night it was definitely with a
chick... with big boobs. Definitely. "Um... No," he
yelled. "I did not have sex with you last night!" "But..." the voice
whined. It sounded like it was going to cry. "But... Yohji-kun! How could
you do this to me, Yohji-kun! I thought we were lovers!" Yohji was seriously
disturbed. Sex? With Chlamydia? And what the hell was up with the
"Yohji-kun?" It fucking reminded him of the Omittchi! He shivered.
Omi. Sex with Omi—the chibi. Now that was disturbing. No—that was beyond
disturbing! That was fucking pedophilia! "Yohji-kun?" the
voice drawled. Yohji shivered. No. He did
not have sex with the chibi. "Yohji-kun?" the
voice asked again in a saccharine voice. No! I did not have a
threesome with the chibi and Chlamydia! "Yohhhhjiiiii-kuuuuuun!" "Nooooooo!"
Yohji screamed, pressing the off button on the portable phone and wailing it
across the room where it hit the wall and broke in half. Yohji put his head in his
hands and screamed. ……… Schuldig, while walking
past Farfarello's room, noticed that the Irishman was standing in the center of
the room with a big grin on his face. In his hands, he cradled a black phone. Schuldig looked from the
phone to the grin on Farfarello's face. There was something very, very
suspicious about all of this. "Farfie, what the hell are you doing with
the phone?" Farfie's grin grew wider.
"Hurting God," he explained matter-of-factly, cackling insanely in
between words. "Yeah, I'm
sure," Schuldig responded apathetically. Farfie was the kind of person who
could destroy the whole house if one didn't keep close tabs on him, but he
didn't really care at the moment. Farfie's mind was hard to read. "Hurt God"
seemed to be the only thing Schuldig could pick up from it half of the time.
Now was one of those times. Schuldig shrugged and
walked over to the fridge to get a beer. "Okay then," he called over
his shoulder into Farfarello's room, "You have fun hurting God." "Yes,"
Farfarello cackled, "I will." |
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