Accusation, aka The Great Fruit Massacre by Lau

Peace. Calm. Serenity. Solitude.

With the flat temporarily empty, Daniel was able to simply lounge in bed and celebrate the momentary lack of partnership he was experiencing. Living in a flat with your best friend was wonderful, of course, but even the most centered youths needed their time alone. And in all his 20 years, Daniel had never cherished the solitude more. He wriggled his toes and sunk farther into the mattress, listening to the noise of the foot-traffic travel by several floors below.

Darren had gone to visit his parents the night before, and wasn't due back until this afternoon. Because of this, Daniel was given the opportunity to work. Work on his music, work on his temper, and most importantly, work on his mantra.

//I do not want Darren, I do not want Darren, I do not want Darren// The blonde chanted over and over in his head. He cracked his emerald eyes in frustration, frowning at the ceiling. //Darren's not like that. Darren likes girls. Darren doesn't like you. And I do not want Darren.// He swept his shaggy blonde hair out of his eyes, and suddenly his hand froze.

The front door slammed shut.

Muffled cursing.

//Fuck.// Daniel collected himself, pushing disappointment at Darren's early arrival out of his mind, and threw his lanky limbs onto the floor.

Darren was careening around the kitchen when the blonde appeared from the bedroom, pulling on a shirt. The younger man paused to watch his friend for a moment, an admiring smile slipping onto his face. Even when he was upset, Darren managed grace, elegance and severity. The scowl that slashed his face, though, was worrysome to Daniel. Darren didn't usually come home from his parents so upset.

"Where th'fuck's the eggs?" Darren demanded, spinning about on a sock-clad heel to his still sleepy flatmate.

"You finished them on Tuesday," Daniel quietly supplied. Darren turned away from him and dove back into the small, stale, refrigerator. "Ah, what's wrong?" Daniel asked, shifting his weight nervously.

"My mum," Darren growled into the crisper drawer at the bottom of the fridge.

"S'she okay?" Daniel asked.

"She's fine. She's better than fine. She's the best she's ever been." Darren straightened and slammed the door shut, his arms full of grapes, apples, and peaches.

"Well..." Daniel prompted. He watched, amused, as Darren proceeded to hack an apple to bits, throwing it into a small bowl. //How can someone be so cute when theyre so angry?//

"Well," Darren said, slamming the blade down through the peach, slicing right through the stone at the center. "She asked me if I was gay."

Daniel's mildly amused smile slid from his face. //Gay. She asked if he was gay. And he's upset. Which means he's not. And he's offended. He hates gay people. Fuck.//

Wheeling for the bananas that were next to the sink, Darren spared a glance at Daniel, as if looking for confirmation to his outrage. Seeing Daniel's pensive expression, Darren huffed. "I mean, of all the questions. Right?" He stared at the musician across the room.

Daniel didn't say anything, just looked up at the shorter man and blinked once or twice. Darren turned away, throwing his hands up. "I mean, honestly! It's my mother! She's supposed to know me!"

"What did you tell her?"

Daniel's voice came softly across the kitchen, almost lost in the sound of metal meeting wood as Darren proceeded with his fruit massacre. The morning chef turned again, leaning against the counter. "That's beside the point, Daniel. I mean, really, these people are supposed to know me. Like YOU know me."

//Do I know you?// Daniel watched Darren quietly, waiting, wishing for a clearer response. //After two years, do I really know you? I never knew you felt this way about sexual preference.// Daniel just shrugged in Darren's direction. "So what happened?"

No response, just the rhythmic hacking. Daniel approached warily, grabbing a bunch of grapes and dropping them one by one into the bowl as a guise to examine Darren's face. The anger had melted away, worry lines vanishing as he concentrated on making breakfast.

"Dar..?" Daniel prompted carefully.

"She threw me out." The knife stopped, and was set down on the counter. Darren turned bodily to his friend and let out a nervous laugh. "She told me to pack my things and move them all here." His big, blue eyes gazed up into Daniels face.

"I'll...ah...strawberries. In the fridge." Daniel turned slowly and buried his body in the small box. He could hear Darren sigh sadly.

"I just can't believe my own mother would throw me out..." Darren was saying as Daniel secured the strawberries off the lower shelf. He straightened his back quickly-

"-for being gay," Darren lamented.

-and Daniel rammed his head into the top shelf of the fridge. "FUCK!" The strawberries scattered across the kitchen floor, rolling away from their captor. He stood up fully, rubbing his head and gritting his teeth.

"Well you don't have to be so mean about it!" Darren snapped, turning back to his knife.

"What?" Daniel sputtered. "Mean about-"

"I never took you for a gay basher. I mean *really*. This is the 20th century, Daniel Jones."

"But Darren, I'm-"

"I understand!" Darren said, shaking his head sadly. "You don't want me around. I'll just collect my things and move on." He sighed dramatically. "I knew I couldn't kid myself any longer." He began dicing again.

Daniel stopped in his tracks. "Kid yourself about what?"

Whack whack whack. "About possibly-" whack "-having a relationship with-" whack "-you." He smiled humorlessly. "I mean, I don't mean to freak you out. But I always thought that maybe..." He gestured broadly with the knife and shrugged.

//Maybe,// Daniel thought, //I should change my mantra.//

"Darren," he started up as he squatted to the floor, trying to collect strawberries. "When was the last time you saw a woman in this apartment?"

"Your cousin was by last week with the ladder-"

"I mean a date, Darren."

"Oh," Darren stopped to ponder. He blinked. Turned. "Oh." His eyes found the sandy blonde's and Daniel quirked one side of his mouth up in confirmation.

"Yeah," Daniel muttered. "Gay basher." He unbent himself and placed the dusty fruit in the sink for a good rinsing.

"Oh," Darren said again, still staring ahead even though Daniel had moved. Daniel waved his hand in front of Darren's eyes.

"You okay? Earth to Darren Hayes?"

Darren blinked, turned his head slowly. "My mother's going to kill me."

"What are you mmmmmph..." Daniel was pleasantly interrupted by the sweet taste of Darren's mouth on his own, the singer's hands clapped over his ears and sliding back to wriggle into his hair, anchoring his head in place. Daniel found himself stumbling forward in delirium, Darren making room until they were both backed up against the kitchen counter, Darren bending backwards until his head rested on a green metal cabinet. Daniel's hands had managed to work halfway up Darrens shirt and was taking up a nice petting pattern on his sides, strong fingertips claiming their final instrument.

Daniel broke the kiss. "I wouldn't worry about your mother right now," he managed after a moment.

"Who?" Darren asked innocently, wrapping one leg around his partner to pull them closer together.

Daniel grinned wolfishly and dove back down onto Darrens lips, determined to erase his cocky satisfaction and replace it with something entirely different.

Yes, the mantra was going to have to change.