Swirling steam filled the tiny bathroom and coated the small white tiles in a layer of condensation. The source of the moisture was a running shower, it's sprinkling hot water pouring over the person who lathered head to toe in copious amounts of shower gel. His hands rubbed his smooth skin vigorously as he hummed out of tune to a popular song that was currently in the top ten of the singles charts. And as the water washed away the bubbles coating his body down the narrow bath's drain, he reached for the shampoo and childishly shaped his hair into that pop singer's hair style and used the bottle as a microphone. "Come, be with me!" He voiced the only lyrical line in the song that he knew, partially as the rest was not clear enough to understand without the assistance of a karaoke machine. "Be with me!" His unfortunate rendition dropped away and once more he was reduced to humming the catchy melody as he washed away the shampoo from his dark blond hair. Turning off the shower and stepping out from behind the thin shower curtain, he wrapped a thick, but slightly worn towel around his mid region and took a hand towel to harshly dry his hair and skin, following the contours of his peach toned arms and chest. Patting more lightly his face, he raised his head to notice that the mirror was now misty, unable to serve its function and reflect his handsome features. That drew a slight pout from the young man. He really ought to try get the extractor fan fixed. Technically it was currently on, but other than make noise, it was a bit useless. So he opened the window to allow the steam to begin to drift out of it into the brisk late winter evening air. The last thing they needed in their small apartment was mould on top of all of its other flaws. Opening the bathroom door allowed much of the steam to escape into the hallway, followed by the man, who made his way the few steps to his bedroom. The room was not large, just about squeezing in a double bed and side cabinet. The walls were heartlessly plain and the curtains didn't drop much below the windowsill. His 'wardrobe' was actually a curtain pole, fixed to the wall with a foldable plastic shelf storage hanging from it in order for him to store t-shirts and his spare bedding. There was absolutely no space for any trinkets or objects of nostalgia. In fact the only item to make this room even close to appearing more than a temporary camp was the twin picture frame upon the cabinet. On one side was a picture of three boys, standing close together, with differing expressions upon their small faces and on the other side was a picture of a woman of oriental descent, with stunning black eyes and a warm, loving smile. The man dropped his damp towel onto the corner of the bed, swearing to himself that he would deal with it in a bit, while grabbing one of the crisply ironed shirts from its hanger and slipping it over his body. Underwear was claimed from the bedside cabinet's drawers and a pair of black chinos were grabbed from the rail. As he buttoned up the shirt, he left the confines of the bedroom to witness another young man exiting the second bedroom. The 'second' bedroom was actually the bigger room, the master bedroom, but within it were two single beds as well as sparse furnishings, so it didn't feel much bigger than the blond man's room. It belonged to the man's two younger brothers. However, on one of the bed's was a patchwork covering that could only be considered as being on the feminine side and had a couple of ragged stuffed toy bears upon that. Those personal things somehow made the plain room feel that much more warm. "Going out, Ichiro?" Asked the teenaged youth in front of him. As brothers go, this pair could not be anymore different. While the older man had inherited his father's dark blond hair and height, the younger man was more like his mother with jet black hair and porcelain skin, though he was by no means short. While the older brother was jovial, with a happy disposition and a love for physical activities, the younger was stoic, expressionless with an air of being slightly dreary and preferred to spend his time on the old computer in the living room. "Yup," Ichiro grinned and ruffled his cute brother's hair. Ichiro was blind when it came to his adorable brothers, loving both more than he loved the company of a good woman. But that didn't mean he didn't have other needs. "I have a date!" The younger man hesitated for a moment, his hands pausing amidst straightening his hair. "You know," he began, his voice only slightly revealing the emotions that his face and cold jet eyes could not. "You don't have to do this. We can get by without..." "Don't worry about it, Jiro," Ichiro grinned and ruffled the youth's hair once more. "Where's Saburo? I'll just bid him goodnight before I leave." "In the kitchen," Jiro shrugged, understanding that his older brother would do as he will and no words from him would alter his decision. Instead, he lead them into the open plan living, dining and kitchen area, but then headed directly for the old computer tucked in the corner next to the second hand sofa. Jiro clicked on to the internet application and after some time passed, opened up a news webpage. The air filled with the sound of the recorded news report, which paused in buffering every so often. Saburo, the youngest brother as his name suggested, was a sunny teen, with hair similar in colour to Ichiro's but longer in length and slightly wavy. The boy currently had it half pinned back with a small flower clip and wore an apron over his t-shirt and jeans, stirring a bowl of cookie dough with his thin arms and his tongue half sticking from his pink lips as he concentrated. His smile matched that of the loving woman within framed photograph within his eldest brother's room. "Sweet brother," Ichiro's heart ached as he witness the boy put so much effort into his task. "You know big brother would go purchase cookies if you want one!" With almond shaped, onyx black eyes, the only thing all three brothers shared along side their two genders, the boy glanced up and grinned, revealing all of his white teeth. "But I like cooking, Ichi," he stared, happily. "And besides, you two would starve to death without me!" Ichiro had to agree with this statement. While Jiro could make passable, if not somewhat plain fair, he, himself, could only burn water. He'd even been banned from boiling the kettle when he had tried to make a pot noodle and had over filled the jug, resulting in the kettle spilling hot water all over the side and nearly blowing up the thing. Saburo's meals were simple, but delicious and his skills were improving all of the time. "And in a recent interview, movie emperor Torin Kobayashi spoke candidly about his marriage to an Omega waitress..." The three brothers couldn't help but turn their heads towards the computer screen for a moment. "She's my fated other half..." a male voice came from the speaker. Ichiro snorted, fated pairings and soul mates, complete urban legends made more tragically fictional by the internet. He lost interest in the interview immediately. "Save me one?" Ichiro begged Saburo, imagining instead the heavenly scent that would fill the apartment once the cookies were removed from the oven. "Going out?" The teen asked, placing the bowl onto the side and pulling a baking tray from the kitchen cupboard. The simple cream cupboard door decided at that moment to come loose from one of its hinges, causing both brothers to sigh simultaneously. "I'll fix it in the morning," Ichiro promised as he helped his younger brother lift the door back into place. "You should ask the landlord," Saburo advised him. Their's was a rental property and one that was probably not up to code, but the brothers did not have the luxury to want better, especially as the price was reasonable and not jacked up in order to deter them due to their respective natures. "I won't," Ichiro sighed, knowing that while Saburo was right and the landlord was responsible for such things, he would not ask as he had a bit of a problem with the odious man. "He's too touchy feeley! Just because I am an Omega, doesn't mean that I should have to..." he shuddered unable to speak the words he was about to say let alone imagine them "...become his partner!" "And yet you allow those women..." Jiro muttered not quietly from within his corner. "That's different," Ichiro replied quickly, wishing Jiro would stop being so open and honest in front of their innocent little brother. He could corrupt him! "I'm a man, I date women." Jiro glanced over at him and blinked and despite his lack of expression, Ichiro inwardly felt that he was accusingly suggesting; I hardly call what you are doing 'dating.' If only Ichiro could make Jiro understand! The money he earned from the dojo simply wasn't enough to support the three of them. And it wasn't as if those women weren't willing to be led by pretty words and pay for good company. He never took more than they offered, never expected more than what they wished for. He was young and he took care of his body. He provided them with a dream date and they provided him with money and everyone went home happy at the end of the day. Speaking of which... "Dammit, I'm going to be late!" Ichiro rushed out of the room to grab and lace his black shoes, before sticking his head back in the room and issuing instructions; "In bed by ten! You both have school in the morning!" Jiro and Saburo glanced at each other and made a verbal promise that they had no intention of keeping. However, their big brother left the apartment satisfied with their words.