“You give me fever!” Motoki sang drunkenly, dancing around in a way that reminded Mamoru just how much he hated watching other people dancing.

It was supposed to be a night out with the boys – few in number though they were. Mamoru, Motoki, Shingo, and Asanuma. Little had they known when they walked into the bar that they were walking into Aino Minako’s favorite hunting grounds. He had died a little inside when he saw her leap off someone’s lap and run over to them.

Of course she had greatly overestimated their tolerance for alcohol. Shingo and Asanuma were snoring on either side of him and Motoki was…

Mamoru just looked at her.

Minako was affronted. “Oh, don’t look at me like that.”

“How else will you know that I blame this mess on you?” Mamoru asked.

Minako pouted cutely, as if he weren’t immune to that after being married to Usagi for six months. “Why do people always blame their problems on me?”

“Probably because you cause them.”

“Fever when you kiss me!” Motoki chorused, swaying awkwardly and finally landing on Mamoru, his arm slung over the man’s shoulders. “Fever when you hold me tight!”

Mamoru rolled his eyes. “Yes, Motoki. Of course I do.”

“I’m afire, fever yea I burn forSOOTH!” Motoki said. He gazed at Mamoru for a moment and said, “You know what, Mamoru?”

Mamoru sighed. “What, Motoki?”

“You’re a great pal,” Motoki said, resting his head on Mamoru’s shoulder.

“Aww…” Minako said, hugging an unconscious Shingo. “Isn’t that just the sweetest thing?”

Mamoru was about to say something particularly nasty when Motoki interrupted him again.

“I love you, Mamoru,” Motoki said in a sing-song voice. “Love, love, love. Always and forever.”

Mamoru started to lean away from Motoki. “Err… yes. That’s very nice Motoki.”

“You know how much I love you?” Motoki asked.

“I’m sure it’s an appropriately manly amount,” Mamoru muttered.

“This much!”

Before Mamoru could do anything to stop it, Motoki was kissing him. And he couldn’t stop it soon enough because Motoki had now completely fallen on top of him. Of course, Minako was no help whatsoever.

When Mamoru finally managed to extricate himself from Motoki’s embrace, wiping off his mouth without discreet, he set Motoki back in his seat. He turned to Minako, who was having quite a laugh at his expense and snarled, “This is all your fault!”

Minako giggled and said, “Maybe so. But seeing that? Is so worth whatever you do to me later.”

“I hate you,” Mamoru told her with certainty.

“That’s only because I’m about to snog your boyfriend,” Minako told him, and just like that, she was kissing Motoki.

Mamoru sighed, his head falling into his hands. It was unbelievable. His wife’s brother and his best friend from high school were unconscious, Motoki had kissed him, and now Minako was reveling in making a show of stealing him away from Mamoru.

And to top it all off, that damn song was stuck in his head.