Lucy May

Gravi fic: Tabloid Darling (ending)

2008-10-12T01:56:22Z

“Yuki’s involved with this?” Shuichi asked. “But how, why?”

“Well, a few months ago he scared the hell out of me by actually speaking to me when I passed him in the hall at NG,” Suguru said with a laugh. “He asked if I ever talked to you anymore, and if I knew how you were doing. When I told him that even Hiro had lost touch with you, he seemed pretty upset.

And that’s what really got me thinking about you again, you know? I was setting GL up, and I thought about what a waste it had been to shelve our last album, so I dug it out of the archives and gave it another listen. It really is good, Shuichi, and if we work on it, it will be brilliant.

Anyway, so I brought this up with Yuki the next time I saw him, and told him about my plans, and that was that,” Suguru said. “We’ve been working on him ever since. I think he’ll cave any day now.”

Shuichi could not keep the goofy grin off of his face as they drove home. Yuki -- his Yuki -- had been thinking about him all along. He suddenly couldn’t wait to see him the next day, going over and over in his mind what he’d say. Suguru just smiled at him and shook his head, giving up on trying to make conversation with his clearly distracted friend.

OoOoO

“You back-stabbing little cocksucker,” Ashia spat at Suguru as they walked in the front door. Ashia stood in the middle of the living room with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a guitar case in his hand. Eiji stood beside him awkwardly, carrying a portable amp.

“After all the bullshit I’ve put up with from you, with your stupid little rules, and your dumb ass relatives. And this skanky piece of trash you’re fucking on the side,” Ashia said, glaring at Shuichi. “You never had any intention of transferring our contract over to your new label, did you? In fact, you used us as your fucking bargaining chip!”

“Leave Shuichi out of this, Raiden. You’ve got your things. Just go,” Suguru said icily, his fists clenching at his sides.

“Oh, but he has everything to do with it though, doesn’t he?” Ashia said, setting down his things, and pushing Suguru out of the way. “You’d do anything for your precious little Shuichi.”

Shuichi smelled breath that reeked of alcohol as Ashia leaned down, sticking his face into his. Shuichi gasped, as he grabbed a handful of hair at the back of his head and wrenched his face upward.

“I can’t believe you sold me out for this,” Ashia said with disgust. Eiji dropped the amp, and placed a hand on Ashia’s shoulder, pulling him back.

“That’s enough, Raiden,” Eiji growled. “Let go of him. Now.”

“Fine. You two want the little whore so bad, you can have him!” Ashia yelled, shoving Shuichi down on the floor.

“You bastard!” Suguru screamed, running over stand between them.

“Get out of here, now, Raiden,” Eiji said, jerking him around to face him. Ashia shouldered past him, grabbed his bag and guitar, and stomped to the door.

“Fuck all of you, then,” Ashia said, slamming the door behind him as he left.

“I’m sorry,” Eiji said, breathing deeply. “He said we were just going to get his stuff. I didn’t think he’d try to start something.”

“It’s not your fault,” Suguru said, helping Shuichi up.

“Are you okay?” Eiji asked.

Shuichi nodded, still stunned, and made his way over to the couch.

“Do you want me to stay the night in case he tries to come back?” Eiji asked. Suguru shook his head.

“No, thank you. I’ll call K,” Suguru said. Eiji nodded.

“Okay. You can call me if you need me for anything though, all right?” Eiji asked.

“Thank you, Joshuya-san. That’s very kind of you,” Suguru said.

“Good bye, Shuichi,” Eiji said gently, before leaving.

Shuichi watched Suguru call K and explain the situation without any trace of emotion, finding his composure almost irritating as he wondered how his friend managed suppressed it all without giving himself a migraine.

“Suguru,” Shuichi asked, when Suguru finished the call. “What did he mean when he said you’d used Ganymede as a bargaining chip?”

“Oh, that,” Suguru said with a shrug. “I told Tohma if he didn’t give me the rights to our last album that I’d take them with me to the new label.”

“But Suguru,” Shuichi said plaintively, “They’re on the top of the charts right now! And they clearly wanted to go with you! Why did you waste that chance on me when you didn’t even know if I’d be willing to sign?”

“Because I don’t want them,” Suguru said. “I want you. And of course you’re going to sign.”

“But he left because of me,” Shuichi said.

“Like I’ll miss him,” Suguru muttered. “Ashia wanted out because he and Tohma hate each other, not because he was loyal to me or anything. I’ve been meaning to get him out of my hair for ages now.”

“Okay, Suguru,” Shuichi said, wondering if Suguru were as unfazed as he pretended to be.

OoOoO

For all of Shuichi’s carefully planned words, that had kept him up for half the night, it had taken surprisingly few to convey his feelings.

“Brat,” Yuki said, nodding as he passed him.

“Yuki?” Shuichi said, his change in tone making the older man pause, and slowly turn around. “Don’t you have anything to say to me anymore?”

Before Shuichi could even breathe to get out another word, Yuki had closed the space between them, pressing him against the wall with a searing kiss that said everything he’d been longing to hear.

“Still love me?” Yuki asked, as he guided Shuichi back into an empty studio behind them.

“Yeah,” Shuichi gasped, searching his eyes. “Still need me?”

“Yeah,” Yuki said, before closing his lips over Shuichi’s again, and pulling him towards a leather loveseat against the wall in the dimly lit mixing booth.

“Hmm, I don’t want to move,” Shuichi murmured afterwards, lying naked on his stomach across the couch, while Yuki sat on the floor beside him, running his hand tenderly down his back.

“Then don’t,” Yuki said, kissing downwards along his spine.

“Suguru’s probably wondering where the heck his tea is by now,” Shuichi said with a giggle, that was cut short by a moan as Yuki playfully bit him.

“Fujisaki can get his own damned tea,” Yuki said, then raised up from where he’d been placing nips and kisses on every inch of skin he could reach. “So, about him --”

Shuichi looked back, shaking his head.

“We’re just friends,” Shuichi said. “You can’t believe everything you read.”

“Yeah, well you’re the one who said it was mostly true,” Yuki said.

“Does it bother you? Knowing I’ve been with other people?” Shuichi asked.

“It bothers me that they got so much better than they deserved, since they obviously weren‘t giving you anything you needed,” Yuki said with a shrug, not meeting his eyes. Shuichi sat up, sliding of the couch into Yuki’s lap and throwing his arms around him.

“I love you, Yuki,” Shuichi whispered. “Things are going to be better, aren’t they?”

“They damned well better,” Yuki muttered. “Tohma’s annoying as hell when he has something you want. You’re lucky you’ve got Fujisaki on your side. He’s gotten to be one vicious little bastard himself when it comes to driving a bargain,” Shuichi paled slightly, pulling back to look at Yuki.

“Um, you don’t think Seguchi’s going to break his fingers or something, do you?” Shuichi asked.

“Well, needless to say, he isn’t too thrilled, but I think he realizes he created a monster,” Yuki said. “In a way, I think he’s even proud of him.”

Shuichi gave a sigh of relief.

“Alright then,” Yuki said, standing up and dumping Shuichi unceremoniously onto the floor. “Since you had to go and kill the mood, put some fucking clothes on, moron.”

OoOoO

“So, I guess you’ll be moving back in with Yuki-san?” Suguru asked as they arrived back at his door.

“Looks that way,” Shuichi said happily. “He said he had something important he had to do tonight, but he’s supposed to come by tomorrow after we get through with work.”

“It’s going to be so quiet around here now,” Suguru said wistfully, as he opened the door to a conspicuously empty apartment. Suguru glanced around with a slight frown at the messy disarray that things had been left in. There were things missing, and not all of them were Ashia’s.

“So, he got his stuff while we were out?” Shuichi asked, as he followed Suguru into the kitchen. Suguru nodded, opening the refrigerator.

“Good riddance to bad trash, right? I‘ll call the locksmith tomorrow,” Suguru said with a bitter smile, holding up a bottle of champagne. “Want to help me celebrate?”

“Um, sure,” Shuichi said.

“There’s a lot to rejoice, actually,” Suguru said, taking the bottle over to the counter and fishing a corkscrew out of a drawer. “You’re getting back with Yuki, and I’ve gotten rid of Raiden.”

Shuichi’s cell phone rang. There was a text message.

“Ayaka had the baby,” Shuichi said, numbly reading the message, where Hiro said they were both pretty exhausted and he’d call him to tell him about it tomorrow.

“Well, it just gets better and better then, doesn’t it?” Suguru asked, a note of shrillness bleeding into his voice.

“Suguru,” Shuichi murmured sadly, taking the bottle away from Suguru’s shaking hands before he dropped it and setting it on the counter. He placed his arms around him, patting him on the back. “You don’t have to hold everything in, okay? I’m here.”

Suguru shook with pitiful sounding sob, as Shuichi just held him and let him cry.

“So, Suguru, you know how you’re always telling me that drinking isn’t the best way to handle my problems?” Shuichi asked, when Suguru finally seemed too exhausted to cry anymore. He leaned back against the counter, sniffling, as Shuichi ran a paper towel under the tap and handed it to him.

“It’s non-alcoholic, silly. You didn‘t think I was going to encourage you to drink, did you?” Suguru asked with a weak laugh as he cleaned his face.

“Oh, because I was going to say you really deserved a drink this time,” Shuichi said.

“Oh,” Suguru said. Shuichi grinned mischievously.

“Hey, Suguru, you want to do something really stupid and cause a scandal? It’ll be fun,” Shuichi said. “I’ll even let you wear those snakeskin shorts of mine you’re so fond of.” Suguru snorted, his lips quirking up in a smile.

“You’re not honestly suggesting what I think you are, are you? And here I thought you’d come so far,” Suguru said, incredulously.

“I’ll just be your designated driver, thank you,” Shuichi said with mock offense.

“You can’t drive,” Suguru said. Shuichi rolled his eyes.

“Chaperone, then. Come on, Suguru, you need a night out,” Shuichi pleaded. Suguru looked torn for a long moment, then sighed.

“Oh, all right. But you’re not drinking, and you’re not letting me do anything too stupid,” Suguru said.

“Deal,” Shuichi said with a grin, grabbing Suguru by the sleeve and dragging him towards his room. “Though I could totally set you up with a few guys who’ll blow your mind,” Shuichi offered teasingly, waggling his eyebrows.

“No, thanks. I’d like my latest stint in the tabloids to be as dignified as possible,” Suguru muttered. “And I’m not wearing anything weird!”

“Okay, but you‘re totally not wearing that suit,” Shuichi said with a laugh.

“I’ll have you know this suit is very expensive, thank you,” Suguru said indignantly.

OoOoO

“I wrote a song for you,” Shuichi said quietly, both of them tired and happy as they sat in the back of the taxi on the way home. “It’s about that sort of glow you get when you‘re hearing the music in your head, and how I wish you could be that happy all the time.”

“Really?” Suguru asked, looking at him with a sleepy, drunken smile.

“Yeah,” Shuichi said. “I never finished it, but I figured out the last verse in my head while I was watching you dancing. You’re going to find that happiness one day and keep it, Suguru, I just know it.”

“I hope so,” Suguru said and yawned. “Thank you, Shuichi. I really did have fun.”

Shuichi hummed his song for him, eventually starting to sing. Suguru closed his eyes, a peaceful smile crossing his face as he listened.

“It’s going to be a great song,” Suguru said when he’d finished. “How about we put it on your new album?” Shuichi laughed.

“Even when you’re drunk you’re still negotiating,” Shuichi said. “And yeah, we’ll put it on the new album.” Suguru positively beamed.

“Thank goodness you finally agreed,” Suguru said. “It would have been a shame to have to kill you after all that trouble.”

OoOoO

“Shindou-san! Over here!” called one of many reporters who were camped outside of GL Records, snapping his picture as he smiled for them.

“Hey, Shindou-san! What do you have to say about Ashia Raiden’s account of your menage-a-trois love affair with him and Fujisaki Suguru in yesterday’s edition of Japan’s most famous gossip magazine?” asked another reporter. Shuichi stopped and turned to face him.

“Sure, I’ll make a statement about that,” Shuichi said with a look of nonchalance. “He wishes. Suguru’s my best friend, and I don‘t think any of you need to ask who my lover is.” A few people laughed, and there was a flurry of flashbulbs, as Shuichi turned to the man beside him and gave him a blatantly steamy kiss.

“Was that really necessary?” Yuki asked irritably, as they entered a blocked off area beneath a giant tent for the celebration to commemorate the official opening of GL.

“No, I just wanted to kiss you,” Shuichi said, grabbing his hand and pulling the reluctant writer further into the crowd. “And besides, you totally kissed me back, didn’t you?”

He spotted Suguru talking to Mika, Hiro and Ayaka, the two women cooing excitedly over an adorable baby boy who was wearing the fuzzy blue hoodie with bear ears Shuichi had bought for him.

“Shuichi!” Suguru called to him, waving them over. “We were just talking about you. Are you ready to put on a show?”

Shuichi would be giving his first live performance since the break up of Bad Luck for the opening party, singing his hit duet with Sister Moon.

“You bet,” Shuichi said, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

“Hello, Eiri,” Ayaka said with a smile, taking Hiro’s arm. “It’s been a long time. Would you like to hold little Masahiko?”

“Of course he would. Who wouldn’t want a chance to snuggle little Masa?“ Shuichi said, elbowing the scowling writer in the ribs, before scooping up the baby and placing it in Yuki’s arms. Yuki stood there woodenly, regarding the child as if it were from another planet as it smiled at him and gurgled.

“Isn’t that the just the cutest thing ever?” Mika said, clearly enjoying her brother’s discomfort. “Well, I’d better go find my husband.”

“Tohma’s here?” Shuichi asked Suguru as Hiro stepped in to Yuki’s rescue and reclaimed his child.

“Of course,” Suguru said. “Sister Moon is getting exposure here, so it will benefit NG, too. I honestly think my he’s a little excited at the idea of a little competition after being the biggest name in the industry all these years.”

“I’m just glad he’s taking it so well,” Shuichi said.

“Don’t worry. Tohma doesn’t eat his own,” Suguru said with a smile. “So, are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess,” Shuichi said uncertainly, looking over to Yuki, who gave him a nod of acknowledgement before Suguru led him away.

“So how are things with Yuki?” Suguru asked. “I sense a slight change in your dynamic.

“Yeah, well, we’re sort of getting used to each other again. It’s different this time, we’ve both changed, but I think it’s going to be even better for us in the long run,” Shuichi said.

“That’s wonderful. I’m glad to hear it,” Suguru said.

“I still can’t believe he agreed to do that audio book to sweeten things with Tohma for me,” Shuichi said dreamily. “I’m going to buy ten copies myself! Imagine, getting to hear that sexy voice any time I want even when he‘s not around.”

Joshuya Eiji approached them through the crowd, much to Shuichi’s surprise, looking positively blissful.

“Thank you so much for inviting me, Fujisaki-san,” Eiji said, bowing low before giving Shuichi a shy smile. “Hey there, Shindou-san.”

“You can call him Shuichi,” Suguru said, to Shuichi’s bewilderment. “After all, if you’re going to be playing with him in the studio, there’s no need to be so formal.”

“Thank you, Suguru!” Eiji said, looking like he might cry.

“I’m still Fujisaki-san,” Suguru corrected him, with a playful smile. “We’re in a hurry.”

“Of course, Fujisaki-san. It’s an honor to serve you,” Eiji said, bowing once more and awkwardly backing away into another guest and apologizing.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” Shuichi said as they walked into a side door of the building, where Shuichi’s dressing room had been set up.

“He’s growing on me,” Suguru said with a shrug. “Tohma wouldn’t let me have Sakano. And besides, we need a good guitarist to fill in for Hiro.”

Shuichi sat at his dressing table, noting the open tabloid paper laying upon it.

“So, um,” Shuichi began uneasily. “I guess you’ve heard about Ashia’s interview.” Suguru gave a derisive snort.

“What a loser,” Suguru said. “I don’t give a damn what he says, but he’s playing with fire if he wants to stay at NG and run his mouth. Did you see the other article about us?”

“No,” Shuichi said, looking to the page Suguru indicated and scanning over an article about how Suguru was hardly letting the newly single life get him down, featuring a shot of the two of them exiting a club and looking happy.

“I like this picture,” Shuichi said. “We should ask for a copy and frame it in the front hallway.”

They looked at one another and laughed, getting ready for the show to begin.

Gravi fic: Tabloid Darling 3

2008-10-08T14:35:04Z

Shuichi brought back the tea to the studio, giving a forced smile as Suguru gave him a questioning look. He sat beside him and absently chewed on the end of the stick of strawberry Pocky in his mouth.

“So, Shuichi,” Aika said with a mischievous glint in her eyes, “Who are you really dating? Joshuya Eiji or Suguru here?”

Shuichi’s eyes rolled over to her wearily.

“I don’t think he’s in the mood, Aika,” Kimi said quietly. “Why don’t we go down to the lobby and annoy the new security guard you think is cute?”

“I guess,” Aika said sullenly, then brightened. “Oh, can we make faces at all those stupid photographers outside through the window?”

“Sure, honey,” Kimi said, shaking her head.

“Sorry if I said something wrong, Shu-chan,” Aika said as they walked out of the door.

“Yuki-san?” Suguru asked. Shuichi nodded.

“What did he say to you?”

“That’s just it. He didn’t say anything,” Shuichi said.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, he really doesn’t come to see Tohma all that often. I’m rather surprised he was even here today,” Suguru said. “Are you going to be all right?”

“Yeah, I just -- I didn’t expect it to be quite like that,” Shuichi said.

“Maybe he just has a lot on his mind,” Suguru said. “You know, this floor isn’t exactly on the way to Tohma’s office. Maybe he wanted to see you, but just didn’t know what to say.”

“It’s no big thing. I was prepared,” Shuichi said with a forced smile. “Hey, I was listening to one of the demos you had for Sand. Do you think we could use their bass player for the closing track? I think it would add a really cool sound.”

“Oh, that’s a great idea!” Suguru said excitedly, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as if he were imagining the sound in his mind.

Shuichi watched his face, smiling to himself at his friend’s shared enthusiasm for the music. He felt the strangest urge pass through him, his fingers twitched, and words seemed to form in his mind like someone unseen were whispering in his ear. He shivered. It had been a long time since he’d felt that sensation.

“I’ll be right back,” Shuichi said, grabbing his messenger bag and running out of the studio, ignoring the confused look Suguru gave him.

OoOoO

It seemed to be a quiet understanding that neither of them even discussed when Suguru helped Shuichi repack the clothes strewn over the hotel bed and brought him back to his home. Ashia gave them a raised eyebrow as they entered, but said nothing.

“So, you liked Sand, huh?” Suguru asked as Shuichi gathered plates for the supper Suguru was preparing.

“Yeah, they’ve got a really neat style. Do you think Tohma’s going to sign them?” Shuichi asked. Suguru was silent for a moment.

“Can you keep a secret, Shuichi?” Suguru asked, glancing at the kitchen door.

“Sure, what is it?” Shuichi asked.

“Those demos aren’t for NG. They’re for my own project,” Suguru said with a smile. “I’ve been wanting to tell you about this for a while, and now is as good a time as any, I suppose.”

“You’re starting your own label?” Shuichi asked with disbelief, as Suguru placed a finger to his lips and winked.

“It’s nothing personal against Tohma or NG or anything. I just want to branch out on my own now that I have the money and reputation, you know? I want something smaller, where I can focus my energies on just a select roster of artists,” Suguru said.

“That’s really great, Suguru!” Shuichi said. “When do you plan on starting it?”

“The building is already finished. Sister Moon’s new album is going to be my last project with NG. Sand is going to be my first act for GL,” Suguru said.

“GL?” Shuichi asked. “What does it stand for?”

“Good Luck,” Suguru said with a grin. Shuichi laughed.

“Are you girls through socializing yet, or do I need to order pizza?” Ashia called through the door.

“Coming dear,” Suguru answered sarcastically. Shuichi frowned as Suguru dutifully prepared his lover a plate and brought it to him.

Dinner was pleasant enough, despite Ashia’s occasional jabs at his imagined rival for his meal ticket, Shuichi and Suguru excitedly discussing the possibilities of what they could accomplish in the studio with both Sand and Sister Moon. After their meal, Suguru and Shuichi sat at the grand piano, Suguru even coaxing the singer into doing a rendition of a few Bad Luck songs. Ashia rolled his eyes at them, before surprising them by joining in on a few traditional numbers.

After they’d turned in for the night, Shuichi carefully drew his notebook out of his bag, and laid across his bed to look at what he’d written. After crossing out and adding a few things, he restlessly wandered towards the kitchen to get a soda. On his way back to the guest room, he passed Suguru’s, where he heard the unmistakable moans and creaks of bedsprings. He felt both nauseated and strangely aroused as he went back to his room, laying the notebook aside and instead fishing out a full bottle of vodka he was thankful had remained undiscovered at the very bottom of his box of clothes.

OoOoO

“Brat.”

“Yuki.”

The exchange went exactly the same, for the third day in a row, almost becoming a comforting sort of ritual, as Shuichi stepped out to get everyone tea.

“Why has he been coming here every day, when he usually comes by once every couple of weeks at most, I wonder?” Suguru asked with a knowing smile.

The tabloid papers were still abuzz with Shuichi’s and Suguru’s lover’s spat that had thrown him into the arms of Joshuya Eiji, along with speculations that Shuichi was making music again, but without anything new to go on, the crowd outside Suguru’s and NG’s doors had slowly begun to thin.

“We’ve been working awfully hard,” Suguru announced while they made dinner that night. “Why don’t we give the girls a rest tomorrow?”

“But the album’s almost finished,” Shuichi said, leaving unspoken that a day away from the studio was a missed opportunity to see Yuki, if just for a moment.

“Well, we’re way ahead of schedule. Wouldn’t you like to have a day off?” Suguru asked. Shuichi shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess that would be all right,” Shuichi said.

“Good, because I have a couple of places I want to take you tomorrow,” Suguru said.

Another comforting ritual Shuichi had was quietly drinking himself to sleep alone in his room once Suguru and Ashia retired. It helped him face the long night and empty bed that awaited him, with Yuki still so fresh upon his mind, and the frightening sensation of being set adrift without Hiro in his life to ground him.

He stumbled back from the bathroom, cursing as he stubbed his toe on a chair and hopped over to the bed. The door to his room opened a crack, letting in the light from the hallway.

“Shuichi, are you okay?” Suguru asked.

“Fine. Stubbed my toe, s’all,” Shuichi slurred, staring up at the ceiling and feeling dizzy. The door swung wider, throwing light across him as Suguru stepped inside.

“You’re drunk aren’t you?” Suguru asked. His voice did not sound accusing, just vaguely sad.

“Yep, pretty much,” Shuichi said with a joyless laugh. Suguru sighed, shutting the door behind him and walking over to sit on the bed.

“Want to tell me why you’re sitting in here in the dark getting wasted?” Suguru asked, timidly reaching over and smoothing the hair out of Shuichi’s eyes.

“My mom used to rub my head just like that when I was a kid. Feels nice,” Shuichi murmured. “Did you just ask me a question?”

“I asked why you were in here drinking,” Suguru repeated, sighing.

“Beats the alternative,” Shuichi said, awkwardly stumbling over the last word.

“You just need to refocus your energies. I thought being back in the studio would help,” Suguru said, then froze as Shuichi snuggled up against him.

“I miss having sex,” Shuichi murmured. “Gets so lonely.”

“Uh, I’d better go back to bed now,” Suguru said in a choked voice, sliding off the bed.

“Nobody wants me anymore,” Shuichi sniffed, turning away on his side.

“Goodnight, Shuichi,” Suguru said gently, crossing the room and going back into the hallway.

OoOoO

Shuichi woke to the sounds of raised voices from the front room. He stirred sleepily, trying to decide whether to go and investigate or put the pillow over his head and drift back into peaceful oblivion. He heard the front door slam and the voices fall silent, giving the ceiling a good hard stare before finally willing himself to move.

Suguru was crouched in the floor, sweeping up what looked to be the remains of the glass surface of one of the living room end tables.

“Be careful, there’s glass,” Suguru said, not looking up.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Shuichi said. “What happened?”

“Just Raiden being an ass,” Suguru said shrilly, his emotions getting the better of him for a moment. “I’m sorry if we woke you.”

“No, it’s okay,” Shuichi said, taking a step closer.

“Shuichi, the glass,” Suguru warned again. “I’ll be fine. Why don’t you just get a shower, and I’ll make us breakfast, all right?”

When Shuichi returned, all evidence of the incident had been swept away, Suguru giving him a bright smile as he placed a pitcher of orange juice on the table. The shower had seemed to clear his head, and his stomach growled appreciatively at the smell of food.

Memories of the night before had begun to slowly come back to him while he showered, and he felt awkward, not quite meeting Suguru’s eyes as he served him a plate.

“Suguru,” Shuichi began, “I -- about last night --”

“You were very drunk. And while I don’t hold you accountable for any actions you took while you were, I am kind of concerned that you were in the first place.

“So, everything’s cool? With us, I mean?” Shuichi asked.

“Of course,” Suguru said brightly. “We just need to get you into some sort of routine that doesn’t involve getting plastered and sleeping with the nearest warm body.”

“Hey!” Shuichi said indignantly, looking up.

“I’m just glad it was me and not someone who would take advantage of you,” Suguru said, touching his index finger on the tip of Shuichi’s nose scoldingly.

“What did you and Ashia-san fight about?” Shuichi asked quietly as their eyes met. Suguru flinched and looked away.

“It’s not important,” Suguru said, then nodded to Shuichi’s plate. “Eat up before it gets cold. Tohma taught me how to make those crepes. They’re awesome.”

Shuichi nodded, watching Suguru as he turned to get his own food ready, a slight stoop to his shoulders.

OoOoO

“Why are we in my old neighborhood?” Shuichi asked in confusion, frustrated that Suguru had refused to explain where they were headed. “Are you taking me to see my mom?”

“No, but I probably should. I’ll bet she’s worried sick over you,” Suguru murmured evasively.

“Doesn’t look like she’s home, anyway,” Shuichi said, craning his neck to look at his childhood home as they turned onto his street. Suguru passed it, slowing to a stop outside of another familiar home a few doors down.

“We’re going to see Hiro’s mom?” Shuichi asked in confusion, before looking out of the window and into the front yard.

Hiro was mowing the lawn, his hair pulled back into a ponytail, wiping his brow before looking at Suguru’s car with curiosity.

“Shuichi?” He saw Hiro mouth his name, before hurriedly turning off the mower and walking towards him.

“Hiro!” Shuichi called, running to meet him. They both stopped short as they reached one another, staring at each other cautiously, before Hiro broke into a warm grin and pulled him into a tight hug.

“It’s great to see you, bro,” Hiro said, sounding choked up. He released him, still holding him by the arms, and studying him. “You’re too skinny, Shu. Did you forget to eat without me around?”

“Probably,” Shuichi said, in no mood to argue. “What are you doing back in Tokyo?”

“Well, my mom’s been getting worse, and we didn’t know if she’d be able to make it out to Kyoto for the big day,” Hiro said with an enormous grin, nodding towards the front door. Shuichi turned around, his eyes growing wide as he took in a very pregnant Ayaka standing on the front stoop, giving him a little wave.

“You’re -- she’s --” Shuichi stammered.

“Any day now,” Hiro said, beaming with pride.

OoOoO

“I work in a pharmacy now,” Hiro explained as he served them tea in the front room, giving Ayaka a peck on the forehead as he passed her. “I’m still taking classes when I can, so I can get my degree.”

“That’s great,” Shuichi said, feeling oddly out of place, and saddened that he no longer seemed to quite fit into the life of his best friend.

“Yeah, it’s quiet, and probably seems pretty boring to you, I guess, but I’m good with it,” Hiro said, looking more or less content.

“Sometimes boring’s good, you know?” Shuichi said with a shrug.

“Sounds like your life’s been anything but lately,” Hiro said with a playfully accusing look. “I’m glad Suguru’s decided to help straighten you out. I’ve been worried about you.”

“I know, I know, I’m a mess,” Shuichi said with frown.

“He’s been an enormous help to me in the studio,” Suguru said.

“That’s good to hear,” Hiro said. “Are you working on anything of your own?”

“Not exactly,” Shuichi said with a shrug.

After a pleasant conversation full of reminiscing about the old days, they said their goodbyes, Hiro promising to call when his son was born. They drove in silence for a long while as they left the suburbs for the city.

“Thanks for taking me to see him,” Shuichi said at last. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah, of course,” Suguru said, his smile just a little bit too bright. “He seems happy now, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Shuichi said, unsure of what else to say.

OoOoO

Suguru seemed to fidget a bit with excitement as they drove, tapping his fingers in time with the music on the steering wheel.

“Where are we going now?” Shuichi asked.

“You’ll see. We’re almost there,” Suguru said, speeding ahead of the cars in the next lane as the light turned green.

Soon, Suguru’s car slowed and pulled into a small parking lot outside of a modern styled two story building, it’s large front windows trimmed in black and chrome. The wide, red double doors of its entrance each held two oddly shaped windows near their center spelling out the letters “GL”.

“It’s your studio,” Shuichi said in awe. “This is really cool.”

“Wait to you see the inside,” Suguru said proudly, killing the engine, as he pulled up to the front walk, which was bordered by two tall topiary bushes in the shapes of music notes.

Suguru led him to the doors and unlocked them, switching on the lights from a little paneled door just inside. The bright track lights above lit up the lobby, with its checker board tile floor, black lacquered front desk, and cushy red armchairs. There was a strong smell of fresh paint, but everything seemed to be in place and ready for business. Shuichi spotted several framed Bad Luck records along the hallway that led beyond the room, and smiled.

“The best part’s the studios, of course,” Suguru said in response to Shuichi’s look of awe, leading him down the hall. There were four doors with recording lights above their frames, Suguru opening the first with a grand gesture, and a broad grin. Inside was a large studio every bit the match in size and technology of any at NG’s.

“You’ll love this part,” Suguru said with a laugh, taking him from the studio to the marked break room, which was lined with a variety of vending machines, comfortable couches, and a large screen television complete with games systems.

“Can I live here?” Shuichi asked, taking everything in.

“That’s kind of the idea,” Suguru said with a shrug.

“What do you mean?” Shuichi asked.

“Shuichi, how would you feel about signing with GL?” Suguru asked.

“I’m not so sure,” Shuichi said, frowning and sitting on one of the couches with a sigh.

“There’s no pressure,” Suguru said, holding up his hands. “It’s just something I’d like you to seriously consider, okay?” Shuichi nodded, his expression tense.

“I want you to hear something. And before you get mad, I want you to just listen,” Suguru said, his shaking hand revealing briefly his nervousness, as he reached for the remote to the sound system in the cabinet beside the television and turned it on.

The first thing Shuichi wondered, strangely enough, was where in the world the busy producer had found the time to record something like this. His stomach twisted at the familiar tune that he had never heard anywhere outside of his own mind, as his imagination filled in the vocals of a set of lyrics that no longer meant anything to him other than self-mockery. But even as hard as he fought to be offended by their irony in light of present events, he could not deny that Suguru had done a spectacular job with the song.

“I’m sorry. I know you’re probably upset with me for going behind your back like this, but I couldn’t resist. It’s really a great song,” Suguru explained anxiously.

“So all of this -- your being so nice to me all this time -- it was to sweeten a business arrangement, huh?” Shuichi said. Suguru gave him a stunned look, turning off the music and sitting across from him.

“Well, of course,” Suguru said. Shuichi flinched and looked at the floor.

“Let me explain, okay?” Suguru said, lowering his head in an effort to bring Shuichi’s eyes back up to his. “Of course that was why I initially contacted you. You’re a major talent, and I need a big name to start my label. I know how much potential you have, and there was no way I was going to let you waste it. But, you know what?”

“What?’ Shuichi whispered, looking up at him at last.

“I’ve -- I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you better, Shuichi. You’re my friend. My best friend, really,” Suguru said, looking a bit awkward and coloring slightly. “I guess I kind of understand now how having that kind of support and match for your enthusiasm in the studio could be so sorely missed. I can never replace Hiro, I know, but I’ll be in your corner when you want to try again.”

“Thank you, Suguru,” Shuichi said, overcome. “That was a really dumb thing to say after all that you’ve done for me. Thank you for believing in me, but I don’t know if I’m able to live up to it.”

“Oh, please,” Suguru said, rolling his eyes and giving him an affectionate smile. “You know why I risked your getting pissed by recording that song?” Shuichi shook his head.

“Because I didn’t want you to use the argument that you can’t write new songs anymore when I tell you what I’m planning,” Suguru said.

“What are you planning?” Shuichi asked.

“There’s an entire album’s worth of Shindou Shuichi compositions sitting on the shelf at NG right now that I’d very much like to make an offer on,” Suguru said. “That is, if you’ll agree to record them.”

“You’re kidding!” Shuichi said, shooting up from his seat in excitement, then sobering slightly. “Do you really think Tohma will go for that?”

“I do,” Suguru said with a knowing smile. “I have an enormous ace in the hole when it comes to dealing with Tohma that just happens to be very much on my side in this particular negotiation.”

“What’s that?” Shuichi asked.

“Yuki Eiri,” Suguru said.

Gravi Fic: "Tabloid Darling"

2008-10-02T01:12:40Z

It has a name now. ;^u^
Anyhoo, here's the second mass chapter dump:

“Are you going to sleep all day? You’ve already missed a good breakfast,” Shuichi heard Suguru say as he blearily blinked awake.

“Don’t mention food,” Shuichi groaned. “What time is it?”

“Ten-thirty,” Suguru said. Shuichi groaned again, peeking at Suguru with one blood-shot eye and noting with irritation that he looked fresh as a daisy despite having helped him drink three pitchers of margaritas the night before.

“At least let me sleep another hour, you sadist,” Shuichi said, muffled by the pillow he’d pulled over his face. Suguru sighed.

“I brought you a special tea that’s supposed to be good for hangovers. Raiden swears by it,” Suguru said. Shuichi peered curiously at the steaming cup Suguru had placed on the nightstand, along with two painkillers and a bottle of water.

“Sip it slowly and you should start to feel better,” Suguru said as he started to leave the room. “I washed your clothes from yesterday and put them in the bathroom.”

“Thanks,” Shuichi croaked weakly, reluctantly sitting up.

Shuichi did feel considerably better by the time he’d showered, whether from the tea or painkillers, he wasn’t sure, and he felt a pang of both guilt and gratitude. He heard music as he left the bedroom, and followed the sound to the front room, where he found Suguru at the piano. The song he played was lively, and definitely rock and roll, but it was different than the music they had played together. Shuichi smiled at how animated he looked as he pounded out the notes.

“Oh, hey,” Suguru said with a smile as he saw him, and the music abruptly stopped.

“That was really cool!” Shuichi exclaimed.

“Oh, thanks,” Suguru said, blushing slightly. “That’s the kind of thing I used to play when my parents weren’t listening and I was supposed to be practicing Chopin or something. Tohma caught me at it one day, and told me that he used to do the same thing when he was a kid. I think that’s why he first took a liking to me.”

“Wait -- I was thinking that what you were playing was a lot different than our music, but now that I think about it, you did have that one piano solo on Easy Action that was kind of in that style,” Shuichi said.

“You remember,” Suguru said, looking pleased. “That’s so cool that you made that connection, because that was totally what I was going for.”

“So, do you still play on other people’s stuff?” Shuichi asked. Suguru shook his head.

“No, I’m content just to produce, really. I work on the arrangements, but it’s up to them to play them when it’s time to record,” Suguru said.

Ashia wandered in from the kitchen, wearing only his boxers and drinking orange juice from the carton. Shuichi stared at the floor, unsure where else to look.

“So, did you guys have fun last night?” Ashia asked. “You both looked so cute passed out on the couch when I came in I should have took a picture. I’ll bet the papers would have paid me a fortune for that.”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Suguru said. “Can’t you put some clothes on when we have company?”

“Nothing he hasn’t seen before, I’m sure,” Ashia said, striding over to Suguru and kissing him on the forehead. “I need to get ready to go to the studio anyway.”

“So, are you ready to go get your stuff? We can get some take-out for lunch on the way back,” Suguru said, sliding off of the piano bench.

“Sure, that would be fine. I would kind of like to change,” Shuichi said with a grin, gesturing to the outfit he’d worn clubbing when Suguru picked him up. Suguru looked him up and down with an unreadable expression, before crossing the room to get his shoes.

“I don’t even know how you walk in these boots, much less dance,” Suguru said, handing Shuichi the footwear from the rack beside the door.

“When was the last time you saw Yuki-san?” Suguru asked as he drove them to the apartment.

“Well, we don’t exactly move in the same social circles, so I haven’t seen him since we broke up,” Shuichi said.

“I thought I should warn you that it isn’t entirely unlikely that you might run into him at NG. He does occasionally stop by to see Tohma,” Suguru said.

“Yeah, I should have figured as much,” Shuichi said softly. “It’s okay. I was bound to run into him sooner or later.”

Suguru was quiet for a long moment, then sighed and shook his head. Shuichi watched him, then laughed.

“It’s okay if you want to ask, you know. People who don’t even know me seem to feel entitled to ask me personal questions, so I see no reason why my friends shouldn’t,” Shuichi said. Suguru breathed out deeply like he had been holding his breath.

“I just don’t get it,” Suguru said at last.

“Get what exactly?” Shuichi asked.

“You and Yuki-san. You’re both still in love, right? So why haven’t you been trying to work something out all of this time?” Suguru asked.

“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” Shuichi said quietly, looking out the window. “I know that sounds pretty cliché, but it’s true. Yuki -- he -- well, he has problems. It takes a very specific kind of person to handle him sometimes, someone who has enough focus outside of him to not let themselves be dragged under along with him when he has his bad days, you know? It worked for a long time, but I guess I’ve just changed too much.

He told me he didn’t need me anymore, but what he was really saying was that he didn’t need who I had become.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that,” Suguru said, giving him a sidelong glance, as Shuichi wiped away a tear. Shuichi sighed, then smiled at him.

“No, it’s okay,” Shuichi said. “You know, that’s the first time I’ve been able to cry even a little bit in months? It’s kind of nice to have someone to talk to.”

“Same here,” Suguru said, looking pleased.

“What about Ashia-san?” Shuichi asked.

“Raiden talks a lot, but he very rarely says anything,” Suguru said with a smirk, as they reached a stop outside of the apartment building.

Shuichi groaned as he and Suguru reached the sidewalk, a flashbulb nearly blinding him.

“Damn it, Aki. Why are you still here?” Shuichi muttered, as the man backed down the walkway before them, snapping more pictures.

“You didn’t think I’d fall for that false lead, did you? I’ve got an exclusive with those suckers out of the way,” Aki said with a grin. “They’re all on their way to some hotel across town. So, is it true that you’re staying with Fujisaki-san now? Hey, Fujisaki-san! Are you guys thinking of reforming Bad Luck?”

They brushed past him, Shuichi leading the way into the lobby and giving Suguru a worried glance. Suguru had his cell phone open, dialing a number.

“K? We have a press clean up at Shuichi’s. Just one. Thanks,” Suguru said after a few seconds, holding the phone to his ear. He snapped it closed with a reassuring smile.

Shuichi led Suguru into his apartment, feeling self-conscious. The place appeared even worse than usual after staying at the home of the successful producer, and he winced at all the empty bottles and fast food cartons lying around on every available surface, imagining how it must look to an outsider.

“Sorry about the mess,” Shuichi said, moving a stack of magazines out of the way, so that Suguru could sit on the futon.

Shuichi rummaged around in the corner of the small, hopelessly cluttered room, unearthing a large cardboard box Maiko had used to bring him groceries in almost a month ago. They’d argued about his living conditions during that visit, and though she still called to check on him, she hadn’t been back since. Most of the groceries were still in the kitchen, going to waste, he realized, shuddering at the thought of the horrors that must be lurking in his refrigerator. It suddenly made him feel rather sad and ashamed.

“Shuichi?” Suguru asked, making him realize that he hadn’t been listening.

“What was that? I’m sorry,” Shuichi said.

“I asked if you needed any help,” Suguru said.

“Um, I have one box of cds and stuff you can help me move down the stairs, but I’m good for now,” Shuichi said. He gave up trying to make sense of the pile of clothes, and just grabbed an armful, dumping it into the box. He heard the thunk and clink off at least one bottle of something, and glanced back, hoping Suguru hadn’t noticed.

“I’ll be right back,” Shuichi said, grabbing his messenger bag and heading toward the bathroom to get his toothbrush and other toiletries. It was pathetic how little he had to pack, he thought to himself. He didn’t stay in one place long, and he just tended to lose things along the way, one way or the other. He’d learned his lesson about bringing lovers home nearly a year ago, when he’d awoke to find he’d been robbed. He didn’t miss most of the stuff that much, just sentimental bits of memorabilia from when he’d been somebody, but it still bothered him that they’d taken the ring Yuki had given him after their first year together. He wondered if Yuki still had the one that matched it, as he wandered back into the front room.

“This is beautiful,” Suguru said, looking up from a scrap piece of hotel stationary he held. Shuichi felt a knot in his stomach as he recognized the paper where he’d scribbled his last song while sitting in bed next to Sakuma Ryuichi.

“It’s garbage,” Shuichi muttered, throwing his bag on top of the box of clothes and lifting it from the floor.

“Are you kidding me? Shuichi, this is anything but garbage,” Suguru said, shaking his head. “What else do you have lying around?”

“Nothing. That’s it, and I hate that song, so can we just drop it?” Shuichi asked softly.

“Sure,” Suguru said dejectedly.

The door flew open, startling them both, as K strutted into the room, holstering his weapon.

“I sent our little friend from the press running,” K said, jerking a torn and unraveled roll of film from his pocket and presenting it to Suguru. “He had a present for you.”

“Very good. Thank you so much,” Suguru said with a smile. “If it’s no problem, could you arrange to have the rest of Shuichi’s things moved to one of my spare rooms?”

“But I still have two months on the lease!” Shuichi protested. “Just how long are you planning to keep me?”

“However long it takes,” Suguru said with a shrug. “I’m not keeping you prisoner. I’m just sure you’ll be able to afford something nicer and closer to work with what I’m paying you.”

Suguru hoisted up the other box and proceeded out of the open door before Shuichi could question him any further.

OoOoO

“You’re making me dizzy,” Suguru said with an amused look, glancing up from where he was working on a song arrangement as Shuichi paced in front of his synthesizer.

“Sorry,” Shuichi said, sitting on the couch in front of the television and flipping it to a music station. He fidgeted where he sat, tapping his foot, and drumming upon his knees with his hands. Feeling eyes upon him, he looked over and found Suguru watching him with a funny little smile, his chin resting on his hand, and glanced down self consciously.

“Sorry. I’m just restless, I guess,” Shuichi said with an embarrassed grin.

“You guess? You’re like a kid whose been told to sit still in the corner,” Suguru said, rolling his eyes. “I’d suggest you go for a walk and work off that energy, if I wasn’t afraid you’d get attacked outside.”

“I had just gotten to where I could go out like a normal person, too,” Shuichi said with a pout. “If I’m going to get harassed on the street again, I wish it were at least for something good I’d done.”

“Oh, I bet you miss dancing,” Suguru said. “Isn’t that what you usually like to do in the evenings?”

“Well, the alcohol and sex were part of it, too,” Shuichi said with a laugh, “but, yeah, I do enjoy being on the dance floor. It’s a good way to still feel connected to the music, you know? You just let it flow into you and make you move. It‘s a nice feeling.”

“You could dance now if you want. This is a pretty big room,” Suguru said with a shrug.

“Um, I’d feel kind of silly dancing alone in your living room, Suguru,” Shuichi said, one eyebrow raised.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Suguru said with a laugh.

Ashia slammed open the door and shut it quickly, giving Suguru a wary look, not quite meeting his eyes.

“Um, look, I kinda did something stupid, and you’re kinda going to be pissed, alright?” Ashia said with a weak smile.

OoOoO
Joshuya Eiji sat, quiet and starry eyed, at the edge of the leather armchair across from where Shuichi sat on the couch, and just stared. To say it unnerved Shuichi slightly would be an understatement. But still, considering the man’s obsession with him had been likened to that of Tatsuha’s with Ryuichi, he supposed it could be far worse. Joshuya’s quiet awe was far better than the aggressive approach that would be more characteristic of Yuki’s younger sibling, a man who had more or less tried to wrestle him into submission for merely resembling his celebrity crush the first time they‘d met.

“I thought I had a good hand,” Ashia said to Suguru, who was still giving him a death glare after being informed that Joshuya’s coming to dinner had been a stake in their card game at the recording studio.

“I don’t see why you were playing poker while you were supposed to be working anyway,” Suguru said. “Sakano’s clearly not keeping a good enough eye on you guys.”

“They were laying down the drum track. What did you want me to do, hang around outside the building and talk to the press? They’ve been hounding NG ever since it leaked that Shuichi has been seen there. I‘ll bet they‘d love to know your new pet is living with us,” Ashia spat, plopping down on the couch with a sullen look at Shuichi, before flipping open the tabloid paper in his lap.

“Don’t you even dare think about it,” Suguru said through gritted teeth, then glanced at what Ashia was holding. “I can’t believe you’re reading that trash.”

“Oh, stop being such a nag. Don’t you have dinner to cook or something?” Ashia said, waving his hand dismissively. Joshuya started to laugh, then saw the murderous look Shuichi was giving Ashia and stifled it.

“He’s not a housewife, you asshole,” Shuichi said, as Suguru shook his head and walked away, muttering to himself.

“Says the guy who obviously doesn’t know how to please his man,” Ashia mumbled, gazing at the page before him, then raising an eyebrow. “Or wait a minute, maybe you do.” He gave a low whistle. “According to this guy, you’re one helluva ride.”

“Can I see that?” Joshuya asked, leaning forward, and knocking a glass of fruit juice on the end table over into Shuichi‘s lap.

“Damn it,” Shuichi sighed, standing up as Joshuya froze with humiliation, stuttering an apology, while Ashia howled with laughter.

“Smooth, Eiji, real smooth,” Ashia said, as Shuichi stepped around them and went to the bathroom.

He dabbed at his jeans with a guest towel, looking up with mild alarm as Joshuya followed him inside.

“I -- I’m really sorry, Shindou-san,” Joshuya said, bowing. “I guess it’s pretty obvious that being around you makes me nervous.”

“It’s okay, Joshuya-san. You didn’t mean to,” Shuichi said. “There’s no reason to be nervous. I’m just a person, after all.

“Not to me you aren’t,” Joshuya said, standing straight and looking at him intensely. “You’re like a god or something to me. You’re so cute, and your music is incredible and I just like you so much. Meeting you -- this is like the highlight of my life or something.” Shuichi couldn’t help but smile at the man’s panicky gushing, knowing he’d felt that way to a degree the first time he’d met Ryuichi, and amazed that anyone could feel that way about him.

“Really, Joshuya-san, there’s no reason to get so worked up. I’m just a regular guy, honest,” Shuichi said.

“I never expected you to be so nice, too. I thought you’d be all stuck up, but you’re so sweet, and I just --” Joshuya wrung his hands before throwing himself forward and giving Shuichi a lightning quick peck on the lips.

Shuichi stared at him, stunned, as Joshuya backed away looking terrified and throwing up his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t what come over me. Forgive me,” Joshuya rambled, backing towards the door, his face blood red.

“Uh --” Shuichi uttered, bewildered.

“I’ll just go in here now,” Joshuya said haltingly, turning to go. Just as Shuichi was starting to get his breath back, he turned back to him.

“And I’m sorry Ashia is being such a jerk to you. He‘s jealous,” Joshuya whispered hurriedly, before fleeing back to the living room.

Shuichi shook his head to clear it, before going to the guest room to change his jeans, locking the door securely behind him.

Dinner was tense affair, with Ashia and Suguru barely speaking, and Shuichi and Joshuya seeming almost equally intimidated by each other after the incident in the bathroom. Ashia got up about half way through the meal, walking towards the kitchen.

“Anyone want a beer?” he asked, leveling his eyes at Shuichi, who timidly looked at Suguru. “I didn’t ask him, I asked you. So what will it be?”

“No thanks,” Shuichi said, picking at his food.

“He’s got you whipped, and you’re not even the one fucking him. Go figure,” Ashia said with a snort, before going.

After dinner, Ashia retired to the living room, while Shuichi helped Suguru clear the plates and straighten up. Joshuya had volunteered his help, but after the first plate had fallen victim to his fit of nerves, he’d resigned himself to sitting in a chair he’d pulled halfway between the dining room and kitchen, unwilling to let Shuichi out of his sight for even a moment. He’d brought the tabloid paper from the living room, and glanced back and forth from the article to Shuichi with a look of longing. Shuichi felt like jerking it away from him and smacking him over the head with it until he left them alone.

Watching his friend’s downcast face as he rinsed the dishes, he felt like he had a million things to say to him, but he wasn’t sure what they were or how to say them. Though he’d put on such a great air of an upbeat attitude and composure, he sensed sadness from Suguru, and it made him feel helpless. He could barely help himself these days, after all, he thought wearily, remembering how he’d had to fight to refuse the drink Ashia had offered and how he still wanted it.

Of course he was unhappy, Shuichi reasoned. He and Ashia hadn’t exactly been getting along tonight, and it was his fault they were fighting. Shuichi looked at Suguru, trying to organize the words in his mind, before he was interrupted.

“You’re on television, kid,” Ashia called from the living room. Shuichi and Suguru shared curious glances before walking to the living room, followed closely by Joshuya.

There was a less than flattering picture of Shuichi behind the smiling host of a celebrity gossip show on the television.

“Here’s a picture of Shindou Shuichi, former pop sensation and currently infamous party boy, as he was spotted several nights ago outside a popular gay nightclub in Shinjuku Ni-Chome on the eve of his one night lover Bando Ken’s tell-all interview for Star Scene magazine.

Sources have said that he has since been seen in the company of his former Bad Luck bandmate and NG producer, Fujisaki Suguru, and is possibly in the process of making a comeback, providing vocals on the next single for Sister Moon’s upcoming new album. But is this all there is to Shuichi’s rekindled association with Fujisaki?

We have exclusive photos tonight that show that not only have the former Bad Luck bandmates gotten pretty chummy, but they’re living together!” The screen shifted from the cheerful host to a gallery of photos, including shots from earlier in the day of Suguru helping Shuichi carry his things from his apartment.

“Fujisaki currently resides with his live-in boyfriend Ashia Raiden, lead singer of the band Ganymede, who was seen returning to their apartment as usual just today. And in other --,” the host’s voice fell silent as Ashia muted the television.

“But how?” Shuichi asked, sitting on the couch. “I thought K took care of things?”

“Apparently, I wasn’t prepared. There must have been someone else following us from afar,” Suguru said, his brow furrowed. “This is all my fault.”

“How is this your fault?” Shuichi cried. “I’m the one that they’ve been following around! And now I’ve dragged you into this mess.”

“All I want to know is,” Ashia said slowly, stroking his chin, “ Does having you both here make me look like a clueless asshole or a total stud?” Suguru gave him a withering look before pulling out his cell phone and walking into the next room.

“Maybe my staying here isn’t such a good idea,” Shuichi said softly, looking at the carpet.

“Well have fun fighting the press on your way out. I’m sure they’re all over our fucking doorstep now,” Ashia said disinterestedly, turning the TV volume back up.

“Yeah, I should just go,” Shuichi said to himself, standing and feeling a bit dazed.

“Y -- you can stay with me. That is if you’ve got no other place to --” Joshuya started hopefully. Shuichi silenced him with a long, thoughtful look.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here,” Shuichi said. He led Joshuya to the guest room, where he had yet to unpack his boxes, glad that Suguru was still occupied on the phone in his room and that he wouldn’t have to face him.

OoOoO

“Why does nothing I do ever turn out right?” Shuichi moaned, leaning against the side of the elevator as he and Eiji descended towards the lobby.

“That’s not true. Your music makes people really happy,” Eiji said. “Bad Luck is the reason I wanted to be in a band.” Shuichi gave him a wan smile, barely listening.

“Let’s go get good and drunk, okay?” Shuichi asked.

“Anything you want, Shindou-san,” Eiji said.

When they got to the lobby, they saw the very harried doorman, pulling the long, Venetian blinds at the front windows as flashbulbs popped outside.

“How are we going to get out of here?” Shuichi asked. The doorman turned to them and bowed.

“Good evening, Shindou-san,” the doorman said.

“Is there a back entrance somewhere?” Eiji asked. “I could probably get past those guys and bring my car around.”

“There’s a door to the alley that the trash service uses in the utility room, just through there,” the doorman said, pointing to the door to the stairwell.

“Great. Thanks a lot,” Shuichi said. They went through the stairwell, finding a dusty room full of cleaning supplies just beyond, and a door that came out next to the dumpster behind the building. Eiji sat the box he carried down, and turned to go.

“I’ll meet you around back in just a minute,” Eiji said excitedly, swooping in to give Shuichi a quick kiss on the cheek before he went.

“What the hell am I doing?” Shuichi asked himself, shaking his head as the man disappeared, staring mournfully out at the narrow alleyway through the open door.

“Hey there, Shuichi,” he heard a voice say, before Aki stepped out of the shadows. “That wasn’t very nice of you to sic your guard dog on me. I thought we had an understanding.”

“Leave me the fuck alone,” Shuichi growled, starting to slam the door shut, as Aki stepped forward quickly and blocked the way.

“You lost me my story, you little shit,” Aki spat. “I’ve been following your sorry little ass around for a year waiting for something good. I’m the only reason people still know you’re alive.”

“Please, just go away,” Shuichi pleaded.

“No. You owe me,” Aki said, pushing him roughly.

“Hey! He’s back here!” Shuichi heard a voice call at the other end of the alley, as he fought to regain his balance, feeling overcome with rage and frustration.

“I don’t owe you anything, you bastard!” Shuichi yelled, grabbing Aki by his shirt and shaking him. “Losers like you wouldn’t even have a job if you didn’t have people like me to exploit!”

“Whoa, check it out! Shindou’s lost it!” a reporter said, a flurry of flashbulbs going off in the dim alley.

“Go away,” Shuichi said feebly, letting go of Aki’s shirt and crumpling against the wall with his arms over his head.

Shuichi heard a car honking loudly from the other end of the alley, glancing up blindly in the flashbulb’s glare.

“Shit! Come on, let’s go!” Eiji called. Shuichi grabbed one of the boxes and ran towards the voice, blocking out the cacophony of questions behind him as he fled.

OoOoO

“Thank you, Eiji-san,” Shuichi said, after they’d driven for a while, finally shaking off the feelings of panic and anger.

“You said my name,” Eiji said, looking both surprised and pleased.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” Shuichi said. “Listen, I -- maybe you should take me to a hotel.”

“Sure, Shindou-san,” Eiji said, sounding clearly disappointed.

“You can still come up for a drink, I mean -- I just don’t want to cause anyone else any trouble,” Shuichi said. “You’ve been very nice to me.”

“I’d do anything for you, Shindou-san,” Eiji said, pulling into a liquor store. “Just wait right here.”

Eiji checked him in to the hotel under some American name that Shuichi couldn’t even remember, and escorted him to his room, a small dingy space with one bed and ugly wallpaper.

“I got us some soda from the vending machine in the lobby,” Eiji said, handing him a can from the large brown bag in his arms. “Do you like rum?”

“I like anything,” Shuichi said, sitting on the bed and pulling off his shoes. He looked at the box he’d placed on the floor and cursed.

“What’s wrong?” Eiji asked, placing the bag on the nightstand.

“I grabbed the wrong box. All my clothes are back at Suguru’s,” Shuichi said.

“It’s my fault. We were in such a hurry to get away from those guys that I guess I forgot about helping you with the boxes. They’re still in that room, right? I’ll go by and get them for you,” Eiji said.

“Don’t worry about that tonight,” Shuichi said and shrugged. He reached over and fished the bottle of rum from the bag, looking up at Eiji. “Keep me company?”

“Of course,” Eiji whispered, walking over to the sink and grabbing two wrapped plastic cups.

Shuichi’s phone rang, and he winced as he hit ignore on Suguru’s call, and turned the phone off. Suguru didn’t deserve that, he thought, but he had no idea what to say to him right now. He thought back to when, just an hour or so before, he’d actually had the audacity to think he could offer help of some kind to him, when in the long run he’d been nothing more than a burden. He was finding himself quite consistently incapable of helping anyone he cared about, it seemed.

Eiji fixed them each a drink and sat awkwardly on the bed beside Shuichi. Shuichi drew his feet off the floor and sat up against the headboard, noticing the way Eiji was trying not to make the way his eyes traveled up his legs obvious, and failing miserably.

“Your real fans don’t care, you know,” Eiji said, looking away quickly and studying the carpet. “About all the bullshit the papers say. I mean, I -- they -- we worry about you. We want you to be healthy and happy and make more awesome music and everything, but we don’t think less of you or any of that crap.”

“Thank you,” Shuichi said, giving Eiji a warm smile as he glanced back at him. “Make me another drink?”

“Sure,” Eiji said, looking a little surprised that the cup was already empty, when he’d barely taken a sip of his own. “I used to play violin. Weird, huh? My friends were always giving me shit for it, saying I’d never impress girls that way. Guess the joke was on them since I didn’t like girls anyway.” Eiji laughed nervously, handing Shuichi his drink.

“Why’d you stop?” Shuichi asked, grateful to have his thoughts distracted.

“Well, when I was about nineteen there was this awesome band called Bad Luck entering the charts,” Eiji said with a grin. “It was enough that I loved your music, but when I saw you guys live -- wow, talk about love at first sight. If I wasn’t sure I was gay before, I sure as hell knew the first time I laid eyes on you.

I wanted to be Hiro. I was so envious of him, getting to be near you, looking so cool and helping you make your music. I bought a guitar the next day, and never looked back.”

Shuichi frowned at the mention of his long absent best friend, polishing off his drink quickly, and leaning over to make another himself.

“I, um,” Eiji trailed off for a second, distracted as Shuichi’s side brushed against his back. “Raiden was already in a band, and he was kind of known around the neighborhood, and when he heard me play he suggested we start our own thing.”

“Do you think he cares about Suguru?” Shuichi asked suddenly at the mention of the singer, starting to feel buzzed.

“Well, I couldn’t say, really. To be honest, I never thought he was that into guys until Fujisaki. He always dated girls before. He told me once that I had good taste, and admitted that he thought you were really cute, but he also said that you were a good choice because you had money and I’d be set or something. Raiden has some pretty fucked up priorities sometimes,” Eiji said.

“I think he’s a jerk,” Shuichi said, frowning. “I mean, people always got the wrong impression of Yuki and I, so maybe I’m being hypocritical, I don’t know.”

“You and Yuki always seemed perfect to me,” Eiji said with a strange smile. “I felt really weird when he announced you were lovers. On the one hand, of course, I was jealous as hell, but then finding out you were gay, too, was pretty exciting. You opened doors for a lot of people who were ashamed to be themselves. You’ve changed my life a lot, you know?”

“That’s pretty cool,” Shuichi said. “I never thought of it that way. But to people on the inside, at least, well, let’s just say Yuki isn’t the easiest person in the world to understand. Everyone thinks he’s cold and tough as nails, but that’s just because he’s so good at hiding how fragile he really is.”

“You still love him a lot, don’t you?” Eiji asked.

“Yeah. I always will. He was my first love, so he’ll always own part of my heart,” Shuichi said with a sad smile. He felt tears prickling the back of his eyes and sighed.

“So you and Hiro were never an item? Sounds like I was envious of him for nothing,” Eiji said with a laugh. Shuichi’s stomach clenched, the alcohol making the room spin. He felt hollow and desperate, and so very tired.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, okay? Just -- could you just make me feel good for a little while? Help me forget?” Shuichi asked with a pleading gaze.

OoOoO

Shuichi groggily turned his face to the side from where he’d had it buried in his pillow, wondering how he’d managed not to suffocate himself from sleeping that way. He started a bit, as he saw two blue eyes peering into his own from the other side of the bed.

“Hey there,” Shuichi said. “Whatcha doing?”

“Just wondering how I turned down the chance to make love to you,” Eiji said with a half hearted smile. “And trying not to hate myself for it.”

Shuichi looked away in embarrassment, stretching and yawning.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about the mess I dragged you into. I wouldn’t have held it against you or anything,” Shuichi said, sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, but I’d have felt like a creep. You were pretty messed up, and I want you to know I’m better than the Bando Ken’s of the world. Hey, I never thought I’d ever get to meet you, much less hold you until you fell asleep,” Eiji said with a shrug. “Why don’t I go by Suguru’s and get your stuff, and then take you on a proper date to get breakfast?”

“Sure, that sounds nice,” Shuichi said, giving him a smile.

OoOoO

Shuichi sat on the bed in his boxers after a long shower, and eyed the remote in his hand, putting it down, and fixing himself a drink from what little remained of the rum, and an opened can of flat soda. He took a deep breath, and picked up the remote again, turning on the television.

He’d listened to the third recounting of how he’d gone out of control and attacked a photographer, watching with detached horror the video footage of him shaking Aki, when there was a knock on the door.

He flicked off the television, already going over in his mind how to tell Eiji that he wasn’t hungry and just wanted to be alone, when he opened the door to find Suguru.

“You’re not going to your first day of work dressed like that are you?” Suguru asked, wrinkling his nose. Shuichi stared at him in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” Shuichi asked. Suguru rolled his eyes, stepping past him with the box of clothes he carried.

“Oh, please. Like I was going to trust you to get ready and come in on your own, when you can‘t even remember to take your clothes with you,” Suguru said, placing the box on the bed and picking up a pair of pink, faux snakeskin shorts and looking at them with a raised eyebrow before laying them aside.

“But what about me bringing the paparazzi to your freaking doorstep? Not to mention all the crap they’re saying!” Shuichi protested. “You don’t really want me around NG after all that do you?”

“Well, roughing up photographers and jumping into bed with Joshuya-san certainly took the focus off your shacking up and having some wild threesome with Raiden and I,” Suguru said with a snort, throwing another article of clothing aside. “Geez, Shuichi, don’t you have any clothes that don’t look like they belong to a hooker?”

“And here I was planning to let you know you could borrow anything you liked,” Shuichi said with a glare. “And I’m not sleeping with Eiji!”

“Well, we are the same size, if I ever to decide to go for shock value” Suguru said, his lips quirking up at the side as he held up a short jacket made of lime green faux fur. “So it’s Eiji now? And I didn’t say you were.”

“Well, I’m not,” Shuichi said feebly, as Suguru’s eyes met his. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, before Suguru looked away.

“Well, that’s good,” Suguru said. “Because his obsession with you is just creepy. Did you know he bought Hiro’s bike just because your ass has touched it?”

“Hiro sold his bike?” Shuichi asked. Suguru nodded, not looking up.

“Here we go,” Suguru said, pulling a mauve, satin button-up shirt from the pile. “I knew you had to have something vaguely presentable in here somewhere.”

“Um, where is Eiji anyway?” Shuichi asked, taking the shirt from him.

“Funny how when I mentioned something about XMR looking for a new breakthrough artist to him, he had something else very pressing to do today, and was more than happy to let me run his errand. I guess his devotion to you has its limits,” Suguru said with a grin. Shuichi felt a slight chill at seeing some of Tohma’s ruthless protectiveness shine through in his protégé, and was just glad that for once it was on his side instead of against him.

“Wow, you really don’t like him, do you?” Shuichi said with a nervous laugh. “He seems pretty nice to me. And wouldn’t he see that as a pretty empty threat anyway, since it would be sending Ashia away, too?”

“I don’t know how you can still be so trusting,” Suguru said, shaking his head. “And between you and me, I can pick up leeching parasites like Raiden anywhere.” Shuichi watched Suguru’s expression as he tried to cover the hurt in his eyes by returning to his hunt for pants to go with the shirt. He thought back to his conversation with Eiji the night before, realization dawning upon him.

“So, you know Ashia is using you,” Shuichi whispered, sitting on the bed, and forcing himself into Suguru’s line of vision. “Why would you put up with something like that?” Suguru looked up, giving him a bitter smile.

“Of course I know, Shuichi. I wasn’t exactly trained to be naïve with my pedigree. I don’t believe in all that ideal love stuff like you, I guess,” Suguru said with a shrug. “Not anymore, anyway. I just take what I can get, you know?”

“But that’s not right! You deserve better than that,” Shuichi said.

“He’s obnoxious, but the sex is great,” Suguru said and blushed, waving his hand dismissively. “Hey, I think these pants will work. Why don’t you go get ready?” Suguru handed him a pair of black leather jeans, and turned away.

OoOoO

NG was a scene of chaos to rival his own apartment when they arrived, though Suguru seemed completely unfazed.

“Oh, I fired your publicist by the way,” Suguru said, as he gunned the engine at the entrance to the parking garage, sending several journalists scrambling out of his way.

“I have a publicist?” Shuichi asked dazedly, his fingers digging into the leather upholstery of the car seat.

“Don’t you remember? Anyway, you have a better one now, and K’s keeping a closer eye on things. Now it’s just up to you not to do anything else stupid, okay?” Suguru asked with a high wattage smile.

“Um, yeah, okay,” Shuichi said.

Shuichi followed Suguru on the same route to Sister Moon’s recording studio, still a little stunned by a chain of events that had led him from his plans to quietly drink the day away alone to this. Suguru must hold some hypnotic sway over him, he thought to himself, eying the little producer suspiciously.

“Yeah! You brought Shuichi!” Aika squealed as they entered the studio, lowering her feet from where they had been propped up on the mixing table. Kimi looked up from where she was strumming her guitar with surprise.

“That’s right. Don’t let him distract you though. He’s just my assistant,” Suguru said, winking at Shuichi.

“Now all we need is Hiro, and we’ll have a Bad Luck reunion in my own studio!” Aika cried, spinning in a circle with a dreamy expression.

“Don’t mind her,” Kimi said. “I think she’s had too much sugar today.”

“You’re so mean,” Aika said with a pout, sticking her tongue out at her.

“Are they always like this?” Shuichi asked in a whisper.

“Pretty much,” Suguru said. “There are aspirin and antacids in my briefcase.”

“Duly noted,” Shuichi said.

It turned into a pleasant afternoon after all, as Shuichi slowly overcame his initial feelings of self-pity and nostalgia, and let Suguru coax him into focusing on the music. Though he’d always been involved with the arrangements on Bad Luck’s music, he’d rarely paid much attention to the mixing process, allowing Sakano to work his magic over the array of sliding levers and lighted buttons. It was fascinating to learn their uses as Suguru patiently allowed him to fiddle with them on the playback.

Aika’s and Kimi’s enthusiasm was infectious, and he found their input imaginative. Kimi’s ear seemed especially well tuned, as she suggested an odd instrument here and there, which Suguru seemed delighted with and promised to find them a studio musician for.

“I think it’s time for a break,” Suguru said, pushing his chair back and stretching.

“Do you want me to go get you some tea from the break room?” Shuichi asked. “After all, I am your assistant.”

“Well, since you volunteered,” Suguru answered with a grin.

“Me, too, Shu-chan, sweetie, and I want sugar!” Aika called as he went to the door.

“For the love of all things holy don’t give her any more sugar,” Kimi groaned.

Shuichi laughed as he walked out into the hallway, stopping dead upon seeing a familiar tall blond walking his way.

“Brat,” Yuki said in greeting, nodding his head.

“Yuki,” Shuichi said, nodding back.

Yuki kept walking, and Shuichi let loose of a breath he wasn’t aware he had been holding in.

The New Gravi Fic...

2008-09-10T13:19:30Z

Okay, so this is what I've been working on for the last few weeks. It's a hair darker than my usual fare, though I wouldn't exactly call it angst. I had planned to post the first chunk to ffnet today, but I'm drawing a blank on a title. So far, any pairing are undecided, and I'm making it up as I go.

Title: ?
rating: M
main characters: Shuichi Shindou, Suguru Fujisaki
summary: With his career and relationship with Yuki both in shambles, Shuichi turns to a life of heavy drinking and partying to dull the pain. Will he fade into a tabloid mainstay, or will he find inspiration where he least expected?

Shuichi sat up, a wave of nausea and dizziness causing him to lie back immediately. Squinting painfully against even the dim sunlight that threatened beyond the dark curtains of the room, he began the all too familiar ritual of trying to figure out just where the hell he was.

It was ironic really, he thought, more than a little disgusted with himself as he saw the complete stranger passed out beside him, that he lived more like a stereotypical rock star now that he really couldn’t claim to be one. Oh, he was still a celebrity, to go by the tabloids, an infamous train wreck followed by the morbidly curious in grocery store lines, but his failures were his claim to fame these days.

The stranger stirred, as Shuichi managed to find most of his clothes scattered throughout the dingy one room apartment, looking up at blankly for a moment, his long, sloppy hair hanging in his eyes.

“Holy shit,” he mused, scratching at his goatee and staring at him. “I was so drunk I thought I’d just brought home some kid who was a dead ringer. But you’re the real thing, aren’t you?”

Shuichi said nothing, pulling his tee shirt over his head and then sitting on the floor to wrestle with the knee high black leather boot he hadn’t yet found the mate for.

“Holy shit,” he repeated, his head falling back on the pillow, then turning to look at him with a slightly leering grin. “I gotta say though, I totally remember the sex. Good God.”

Shuichi spotted his other boot just under the bed, and pushed a few stray bottles out of the way as he crawled over to retrieve it. He reluctantly looked up at the man as he reached under the bed frame as far as he could reach.

“I hope you don’t mind, consider it flattery or whatever, but to have an ass like yours on tap and give it up, that Yuki guy --” the man began with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Shuichi ground out between clenched teeth, as he finally got a grip on the boot. “You’ve got a good story for your friends, maybe even one to sell to the papers, but I don’t want to hear it, so just shut up.”

“Touchy little slut, aren’t ya?” the man said, shaking his head. “Jeez, I was just trying to let you know you’re still good at something. It’s not my fault you’re all washed up.”

Shuichi flinched, hunching his shoulders and stumbling out of the apartment, waiting until he got into the hallway to finish buckling his boots.

Forgoing a rather dubious looking elevator, he took the stairs down to the lobby, where the clock told him it was just past noon. The sunny street outside held just a bit more clarity than he would have liked, and thinking clearly always brought back things that he tried to avoid dwelling on.

“Hey Aki-san,” Shuichi muttered irritably at the man who was currently snapping his picture. He used to absently count the flashbulbs as he left the nightclubs, trying to keep his temper. The news that Shindou Shuichi’s life of drinking and partying had spiraled out of control must be getting stale. There only seemed to be one now. Aki was still flogging this dead horse for his income, and Shuichi had just given up caring, even going so far as to be civil to his professional stalker.

“Hey there, Shindou,” Aki said. “Late night?” Shuichi nodded, looking at the street signs and trying to figure out where the nearest train station was.

“Want to tell me where you’ll be tonight and save me some driving around?” Aki asked amiably.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Shuichi said with a shrug.

Shuichi realized to his amazement that he was only a few blocks from his own apartment, as he turned a corner where things were more familiar. A few people glanced at him curiously, seeing him being pursued by the cameraman, and Shuichi held his breath, hoping no one would recognize him or care if they did.

OoOoO

Shuichi stocked up on various junk foods, cheap wine and aspirin at the corner shop on the way home, the man behind the counter always friendly despite always seeing Shuichi looking worse for wear and in last night’s clubbing attire.

“You do not eat good. You should get you a nice girl that cooks for you,” the man said with a broad smile as he rung up his purchases. Shuichi gave him a bland smile in return, his eyes drawn to the tabloid on the newsstand beside the counter.

Is Yuki Eiri’s latest novel of love and loss inspired by former lover? asked a small byline at the bottom corner of the page, beside a publicity still of Yuki taken for the inside of the book’s dust jacket. Shuichi rolled his eyes. All of Yuki’s books were about love and loss. They had run the same story for the last book Yuki had written since their break-up as well. He noticed that they didn’t even bother to use his name or Bad Luck’s to get attention anymore.

There was a respectable music magazine beside it on the rack, picturing the familiar face of Fujisaki Suguru. He looked into the camera with an ironic smirk, pushing up the brim of the unmistakably symbolic purple fedora hat he wore. Brilliant producer Fujisaki Suguru speaks with us of the stumbling blocks to fame and on stepping out of his famous cousin’s shadow, read the headline. Well, at least one of us made it, Shuichi thought to himself. There was a blurb on Ryuichi’s latest film overseas as well, he noted, adding the magazine to his purchases.

“Oh, so you are a music fan, I see,” the man said, ringing up the magazine.

“Yeah, something like that,” Shuichi said, thanking the man and paying him.

He walked across the street and climbed the steps to his apartment, balancing the heavy, clinking shopping bag on his hip as he fished out his key.
Inside, he sat the bag on a low table in front the futon that served as both sofa and bed, stripping down to his boxers and tee shirt before sitting on the floor between them. His cell phone laid nearby, charging at the wall outlet, and he reluctantly unplugged it to check his messages. He almost never took it with him when he went out anymore.

There was one call from Maiko, and one from Hiro that he’d never gotten around to erasing that was nearly a month old. He played it again, listening to Hiro ask if he wanted to come out to Kyoto and see the house he and his wife Ayaka had moved into. He’d never returned the call.

He pulled out the contents of the bag and spread them on the table, unscrewing one of the wine bottles and pouring himself a drink in his favorite mug, which was still left out from yesterday, before opening the magazine he‘d bought.

Ryuichi’s new movie had wrapped, the article said, and there was already buzz about how well he’d done as a cynical anti-hero in the gritty, dystopian sci-fi thriller. Shuichi tried to wrap his head around the thought of Ryuichi playing such a role convincingly, when he saw that the article also mentioned that the former Nittle Grasper vocalist was returning to Tokyo to do promotional work. Well, that ruled out one of his comfort zones. Ryuichi tended to favor the clubs in Roppongi these days when he was back in town, and Shuichi didn’t want to run into him. The last time had been humiliating enough.

Shuichi had tried to avoid the corner of Gaspanic where Ryuichi was playing court to his mostly American entourage, when he’d been spotted and asked to join them. The party moved on to several other hotspots before winding down in Ryuichi’s suite in one of the nicest hotels in the city. Reiji and Ryuichi had fawned upon him, and it had been great. He’d truly felt like he were somebody again for a few hours.

High on his newfound confidence and more than a few drinks, he’d been more than receptive to Ryuichi’s advances once the others had left. The evening had left him starry-eyed and hopeful in a way he had never felt with anyone else but Yuki, and he found himself awake long before Ryuichi in the morning, watching his lover sleep and wondering if XMR had any interest in drawing up another contract. He’d been scribbling the lyrics for the first song he’d written in over a year, when Ryuichi woke and looked at him a little sadly before telling him it was time for him to go back to America.

It could have been worse, Shuichi thought to himself, as he poured another drink, and flipped the page so quickly that he almost ripped it. He’d come very close to revealing his pathetically naive little daydream of following him back to Los Angeles, when he realized the sad look in Ryuichi’s eyes had been disappointment. He hadn’t lived up to the expectations of being the heir to Sakuma’s legacy. He’d blown it.

He looked at the large glossy photos of Suguru which framed his cover story, which were more shots from the front’s photo session. He looked a little older, of course, but his face had lost some the solemn edge that he remembered from the studious young keyboardist. He scanned the article, which talked about Suguru’s recent success in producing several of the hottest albums on the charts. He read more closely when he saw Bad Luck mentioned.

“CT: Do you miss the camaraderie of working with a band, like you did with the wildly successful Bad Luck?

FS: [laughs] Not really. I’ve always been a bit of a loner, I suppose. I certainly don’t miss touring. I enjoy working with new artists on their albums, don’t get me wrong, but being in a band is like a marriage, you know? There’s just too much drama, too much personal involvement.

CT: There has been a lot of speculation on what caused the group’s downfall after such a promising start. Was it Nakano Hiroshi’s early retirement and marriage? The breakup of Shindou Shuichi and Yuki Eiri? What is your take?

FS: See, that’s just the sort of thing I was talking about. All these personal things interfere with the music. I’ve avoided talking about Bad Luck’s break-up with the press, but since it’s been a few years, and the wounds aren’t as fresh, I’ll indulge you.

I never enjoyed working with Shindou. He was unreliable, and his mood in the studio was always dictated by whatever was going on with Yuki. It was very unprofessional, and the way everyone around us would coddle and indulge him used to infuriate me. But he is incredibly talented. That’s why I stuck around even when I wanted to get out of it. Well, that, and my cousin [Seguchi Tohma] had given me the job as a favor. [laughs]

But, I was really surprised with his behavior when they split up. In fact, I was even impressed. For the first time, Shindou really put on a brave face and came into the studio to work. I think that last album would have been our best, if things had happened differently after that.

CT: You mean Nakano leaving the band.

FS: Exactly. [nods] Honestly? I don’t like to speculate about the feelings of others as a rule, but -- Well, let’s just say that I think Hiroshi leaving hurt him [Shindou] more than whatever happened with him and Yuki-san. Because by that point the was just barely hanging on, you know? It was really like someone pulling the rug from under him. He just sort of wandered away, lost interest after that. He got back together with Yuki-san for a little while, and even that didn’t seem to help, and of course, they officially broke up shortly after that. The album got completed, so our contract was fulfilled, but it got shelved. His heart just wasn’t in it anymore.

CT: Have you kept in touch with either of them?

FS: No.

CT: The tabloids have been reporting for some time that Shindou has given himself over to a life of drinking and partying. Do you think he’s on a path to self-destruction?

FS: That’s really none of my business. [pauses] I hope not.”

Shuichi reread the interview, then closed the magazine. The phone rang, startling him. He plucked it up from the table and answered.

“Hey,” Yuki said.

“Yuki?” Shuichi whispered. His heart thudded heavily in his chest.

“Yeah, it’s me. Look, I -- I just wanted to know how you are,” Yuki said, his voice slightly slurred.

“You’re drunk,” Shuichi said. Yuki gave a joyless laugh and sighed.

“Yeah, I hear the same thing about you these days,” Yuki said.

“What do you care?” Shuichi asked.

“I don’t. Fuck you, then. Go drink yourself to death for all I care,” Yuki muttered, then added more softly, “Thought you were the strong one.”

“Well, I guess you were wrong,” Shuichi said, his head beginning to swim. Shuichi heard voices in the background on Yuki’s end.

“I’ve got to go. I just wanted to know how you’re doing, moron,” Yuki said, and hung up the phone.

Shuichi took a deep breath, and waited for the tears to come, but they didn’t. He just felt numb.

OoOoO

Roppongi was out for the evening because of Ryuichi. The area, where most of the bar and nightclub patrons were foreign, had been one Shuichi had liked for his relative anonymity. Bad Luck’s music had never caught on anywhere else like it had in Japan, and he rarely had to concern himself with recognition there. His other preferred option awaited then, Shinjuku Ni-Chome, the five block sprawl that harbored most of the Tokyo gay scene.

When he’d rather self-consciously visited the area for the first time, he’d been surprised at how easily he’d been able to lose himself on the crowded dance floors and just enjoy himself. He was recognized, but rarely harassed, and those who did approach him usually did so rather casually. It felt liberating just to be there, and it didn’t hurt that he almost never had to pay for his own drinks as the evenings wore on.

He entered one of his favorite clubs, choosing to start at the bar before going out on the dance floor. The loud music pulsed around him as he made his way to an area separated by a Plexiglas barrier that muffled the noise to allow for conversation without blocking the view. Greeted by a few other regulars, he ordered his drink and scanned the crowd. He stopped dead at finding a familiar set of warm brown eyes locked on his.

Fujisaki Suguru sat at a table nearby and gestured for him to join him.

“You’re not nearly as hard to track down as I’d been led to believe. A few questions in the right places, and here you are,” Suguru said, smiling pleasantly as Shuichi came over with his drink.

“You were looking for me?” Shuichi asked in wonder as he sat at the table. Suguru nodded.

“K volunteered to find your apartment and bring you to me, but I thought I’d make a more civilized approach,” Suguru said, his unwavering smile eerily resembling that of his mentor and cousin for a moment, making Shuichi uneasy until he heard a tone of sincerity in the young man’s voice. “After all, it’s been a while hasn’t it?”

“Why do you need to see me?” Shuichi asked. Suguru played with the umbrella in his drink before meeting his eyes intently.

“I have a proposal for you, and I really hope that you won’t turn it down,” Suguru said. Shuichi squirmed uncertainly on the barstool.

“What kind of proposal?” Shuichi asked, with a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“I’d like for you to return to the studio. The band I’m currently working with has a new track that I think could be made really great if you’d agree to sing,” Suguru said.

“I -- I don’t know, Fujisaki-san,” Shuichi said uneasily. It had been years since Shuichi had set foot inside a studio. The very thought of it made him feel queasy.

“Suguru.”

“What?” Shuichi asked, distracted.

“We’re friends, right? You can use my name,” Suguru said, waving his hand dismissively. “To be honest, I have a pretty wide range of vocalists I could choose from on this project, but I want you. And you know what? They’re fans. They’re really excited about the idea of working with you.”

“What if I don’t have what it takes anymore, Suguru?” Shuichi asked.

“Then I’ll kick you out of my studio and get someone else,” Suguru said with a laugh. “Don’t be silly, Shuichi. I don’t have the time to waste on has-beens. I just don’t think you are one. Now where‘s that spastic enthusiasm and confidence I know you have?” Shuichi couldn’t help but smile.

“Why weren’t you this nice when we worked together?” Shuichi asked, shaking his head. Suguru shrugged, leaning closer.

“Because I’ve learned a secret in the past couple of years. Being nice and handing out compliments gets me my way a lot more easily than sulking,” Suguru said in a conspiratorial stage whisper.

“You might be right,” Shuichi said thoughtfully. “I’ll give it a try, okay? I can’t promise I’m going to be worth your time, though.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” Suguru said. “Why don’t we get this started tomorrow before you can psych yourself out and change your mind, okay? I can send a car around for you.”

“Alright already,” Shuichi said, laughing. “Now I know what they meant when they said you were surpassing Seguchi-san. You not only manipulate people into doing what you want, you make them like you for it.”

“Thanks,” Suguru said with a broad grin, seemingly caught off guard for a moment, and coloring slightly, reminding Shuichi more of the quiet and slightly socially awkward boy who’d played in his band.

“So,” Shuichi said, feeling in strange way as if he were truly seeing his former band mate for the first time, instead of taking his presence in the background for granted, “Isn’t it a little risky for your reputation to been seen around here? I mean, I’m sure people recognize you.”

“Well, I get a lot less attention as a producer than I did as a musician,” Suguru said with a shrug, “But, honestly, you really don’t notice a lot outside of your little bubble do you?”

“What do you mean?” Shuichi asked, bristling slightly, if only because he suspected it were true.

“I mean that if you ever read anyone’s press clippings besides your own, you’d know that I’ve been out for over a year now,” Suguru said, rolling his eyes.

“Hey, that’s not fair! I read an interview you gave just this afternoon!” Shuichi said, then paused, his eyes growing wide. “Wait -- you are?”

“Just ask my boyfriend,” Suguru said with a grin, looking embarrassed and pleased at the same time. “He’s the lead singer for Ganymede. Typical. You only read the parts of that interview that mentioned you, didn‘t you?”
Shuichi grinned sheepishly.

OoOoO

It was a familiar shock, to possibly coin such a paradox, thought Shuichi when he woke the next morning to find his blearily blinking eyes focusing upon the barrel of a gun.

“Long time, no see, punk,” Claude K said in a manner that was, for him, almost sentimental. Or at least as sentimental as a man pointing a gun could sound. “I’m here to haul your lazy ass to the studio. The boss suggested that we might want to make a stop at rehab, but I’ve promised to scare you straight. You’re not going to make a liar out of me, are you?”

“No, sir,” Shuichi said, his eyes slightly crossed as he looked at the gun.

“Good to have you back, kid,” K said, allowing Shuichi to sit up and get ready to leave.

“So who are you managing these days?” Shuichi asked as K drove them.

“No one in particular at the moment,” K said, checking his rearview before changing lanes. “You could say that I’m helping to babysit the whole NG roster right now. Seguchi-san’s had me focusing on Ganymede and Sister Moon lately, since they both seem to be on their way up. Sister Moon are the ones I’m delivering you to right now for Suguru.”

“Oh, really?” Shuichi asked. “I’ve heard some of their stuff at the clubs. They’re pretty good.” Shuichi remembered seeing a video of the pretty girl duo, pleased that he would be collaborating with a group he was at least somewhat acquainted with.

“Hara-san’s practically coming unhinged waiting for you to get there,” K said. “She’s not the only one, either. Expect a packed studio.”

“They’re excited to see me?” Shuichi asked with surprise. K smiled.

“Of course they are. Do you think you’d have managed to be living off your royalties for two years now if people weren’t still buying Bad Luck cds? You were still on top when you bowed out, kid. Good move. Leaves them wanting more,” K said.

Shuichi peered up nervously at the looming NG building as they grew near. He thought he’d truly left the place for good that last time, when he’d taken a cab to his childhood home to crash until he got things sorted. Memories that were both exhilarating and heartbreaking flooded his mind at the sight of the shining glass façade of Seguchi Tohma’s fortress.

He looked around quietly as K led him from the parking garage through a hallway that gave confirmation that life had indeed gone on without him, various gold records from fresher stars lining the walls alongside those of Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper. As they reached the second floor, Shuichi’s thoughts were scattered by an unearthly shriek as he exited the elevator.

“He’s here! He’s really here! Kimi, get your butt out here! It’s Shuichi!” Hara Aika, lead vocalist for Sister Moon called, her dogears bouncing as she clapped for joy.

“Well, she certainly has vocal range,” Shuichi said, with an embarrassed grin to K, sticking a pinky in his ringing ear.

A second girl stepped into the hallway, raising an eyebrow at her friend before giving them a timid wave, and trying to smooth her shaggy black bob with her other hand.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Shindou-san,” the girls said in near perfect unison, bowing.

“Hey, guys, no need for that now,” Shuichi said, waving his hand awkwardly as they raised up. “I’m pretty excited to meet you guys, too. Just call me Shuichi, okay?”

“He said we can call him Shuichi!” Aika said, skipping ahead of them into the studio. “Call me Aika!”

“Kimi,” the other girl said quietly, following Aika.

Shuichi was already feeling a bit overwhelmed as he walked into the room, finding Suguru, two members of Ganymede, and one more face he recognized inside.

“Sakano-san!” Shuichi said cheerfully. Bad Luck’s former producer bowed low before him.

“Shindou-san! I am most pleased that our president’s great protégé Fujisaki-san has chosen in his infinite wisdom to bring you back on board!” Sakano said. “I only regret that as the producer of Ganymede that I will not be able to work with you directly.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Shuichi said with amusement upon seeing that the man had not changed a bit.

“Sorry to bombard you with so much on your first day back, Shuichi, but everyone wanted to see you,” Suguru said, and gestured to the other two men, blushing slightly as his eyes met those of the taller of the two. “This is Ashia Raiden, vocalist, and Joshuya Eiji, guitarist, from the group Ganymede.”

Ashia’s height was slightly intimidating, even reaching above that of K’s, his hair long and black with bright red streaks, and his light gray eyes revealing what must have been a mixed heritage.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Ashia said, his deep voice somewhat accented, shaking his hand. “I love your music.” Shuichi stared up at the towering man with awe.

“Thank you,” Shuichi said. “I went out and got your first album after I’d met with Suguru yesterday. It’s really good.”

“That means a lot to us, coming from you,” the other man, whose black hair was wildly spiked in all directions and streaked with blue said, stepping forward and looking Shuichi up and down like he wanted to devour him. “I sincerely hope that you’ll agree to collaborate with us as well sometime.”

“You never know, right?” Shuichi asked uneasily, backing away slightly.

“Well, it’s back to your own studio, then. We have work to do,” Suguru said, playfully shooing them towards the door. Ashia stooped down to steal a quick kiss before leaving, and Suguru turned back to them looking flushed.

“Sorry about Eiji,” Suguru said. “You know how Yuki-san’s kid brother has that little crush on Sakuma-san?”

“Little crush? Don’t you mean full-blown scary obsession that makes me look like a casual fan?” Shuichi asked, his eyes wide.

“Um, yeah,” Suguru said. “That’s kind of like how Eiji is for you. But don’t worry, I made him promise to leave you alone if I introduced him, and gave him the glass you drink out of. It’s no big deal.”

“Right,” Shuichi said, laughing nervously.

Shuichi listened to Suguru’s arrangement of the Sister Moon track they were to work on, as always impressed by the younger man’s skill at making the most complicated of arrangements sound simple and irresistibly catchy. The girls hovered around them in nervous excitement, and Shuichi watched them with a feeling of wistfulness, their dynamic of contrasting hyper enthusiasm countered with calm rationalization reminding him painfully of his with Hiro. The void his guitarist and best friend had left in his life was still tender, and he was already forming plans in his mind to go get good and drunk in Ni-Chome that night, when Suguru presented him with the lyric sheet and he and Aika worked out his harmonization. None of this felt right without Hiro here, he thought.

“Why so glum? You made a really great song in there,” Suguru said as he drove him home. Shuichi shrugged, looking out of the window. He’d been excited at the beginning of the day, glad to find that his music was still being enjoyed and that he wasn’t as forgotten as he’d thought, but in the end it all felt hollow.

“I know it’s just one track,” Suguru said, seeming to read his thoughts. “But it’s a good one. And since it’s a single, you can do some performances with the girls when they promote it, if you wish to.”

“Thank you, Suguru. Thanks for everything, I mean it,” Shuichi said, glancing at him. “If it will help you out, I’ll be happy to perform. Just let me know.”

“Thank you, Shuichi. I know this hasn’t been easy for you,” Suguru said. Shuichi sighed.

“I miss him, that’s all,” Shuichi said, watching the traffic go by.

“Yeah, me too,” Suguru said, so quietly it was almost a whisper. Shuichi looked at him curiously. Suguru gave him a sidelong glance, and broke into bitter laughter.

“You had no idea, did you?” Suguru asked, shaking his head. “God, I know you were self-absorbed, but -- I thought he might have at least told you. Maybe he didn’t think it was worth mentioning.”

“What are you talking about?” Shuichi asked.

“Hiroshi and I. We were lovers,” Suguru said, pulling up to the sidewalk beside Shuichi’s apartment and killing the engine. Shuichi stared at him in stunned silence.

“It was -- let me see -- around the time we were recording our second album?” Suguru asked himself, closing his eyes for a moment. “That was probably when things were most secure between you and Yuki-san. Maybe that and working on the album was what had you so oblivious, I don’t know. We didn‘t exactly make a public announcement about it.”

“I had no idea. I’m sorry,” Shuichi said. “I never thought his leaving the group affected anyone but me. And then he married Ayaka -- I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Suguru said, forcing a smile. “I have Raiden now. What did you think of him?”

“He’s -- well, he’s a big guy,” Shuichi said. Suguru laughed.

“He’d love to hear you say that. He’s so bony from being that tall,” Suguru said with a fond smile. “I should probably be getting home to him now, actually.”

“Of course,” Shuichi said, opening the car door.

“Hey Shuichi,” Suguru called to him when he got out.

“Yes?” Shuichi asked.

“Do you still write songs?” Suguru asked.

Shuichi shook his head, giving him a sad smile as he turned to go back into the building.

As Suguru pulled away, Aki stepped forward, snapping pictures. Shuichi was in no mood for the photographer’s antics, his mind still buzzing with the information Suguru had shared. He tried to step by him, when Aki called out to him.

“Hey Shindou! Tell me why you were at NG with Fujisaki Suguru all day, and I’ll let you in on something you’ll really want to know about tomorrow’s paper,” Aki said. Shuichi froze, turning slowly to face the other man with a feeling of dread.

“I did a duet with Hara Aika for the new Sister Moon album,” Shuichi said with resignation, as Aki hurriedly scribbled it down on his notepad.

“That makes this crappy timing then, kid,” Aki said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but that guy you stayed with the other night has decided to sell his story.” Shuichi winced, remembering the words he had said to the guy, never imagining he would take it literally.

OoOoO

Shuichi went to the clubs like he’d planned. There was really nothing else for him to do. He had even more to avoid thinking about than usual, and there was no way he was going to sit around that nearly empty apartment and wait for the press to arrive at his doorstep. So he did the things he always did, danced and drank until it went away, trying not to wonder where he was going to sleep tonight. The answer to that would be obvious, he thought, as the man he danced with pulled him close, grinding against him, but that was exactly how he’d gotten into this mess, wasn’t it?

Around three, when all the clubs were closing down, he was gently escorted out of the door by a man in a red dress and a wig who asked if he had anyone to take him home. He shook his head and stumbled away, heading in the direction of the park.

He remembered somehow crossing the road without being hit, a driver honking and yelling angrily. He remembered sitting on a park bench, looking desolately at the cell phone he’d actually decided to take this time and willing it to ring with anyone who might come and rescue him. He remembered vaguely wondering if Yuki’s call the other day meant he were welcome to call back, then recalled the voice he’d heard in the background and thought better of it. That was the last thing he remembered, before being softly shaken awake, the sounds of crows cawing all around him.

“Yuki?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry, Shuichi, it’s just me,” Suguru said.

“How --?” Shuichi asked, his head spinning as he sat up.

“I’m good at finding people,” Suguru said, sitting beside him.

“But why --?” Shuichi asked, cradling his head in his hands.

“I came after I read the paper this morning. The reporters outside your building said they hadn’t seen you come home,” Suguru said.

“Guess they’ll be there for a while, won’t they?” Shuichi asked dully.

“Probably so. That’s why you’re coming home with me,” Suguru said, standing and offering his hand. “Come on, Shuichi, let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” Shuichi took his hand, allowing himself to be led to the street, feeling too numb and disoriented to do anything else.

OoOoO

Shuichi emerged from a warm bath to find a pair of silk pajamas laid out for him that were obviously Suguru’s. The pants were a little short, but they otherwise fit fine, and he made his way out into the unfamiliar apartment, following the sound of the television until he found Suguru sitting in the front room. It was simple and elegant, in muted shades of gray and lavender, a baby grand piano taking much of the floor space before a wall to ceiling window with a great view of the city, reminding him somewhat of Seguchi’s office in the NG building.

“I made tea,” Suguru said, nodding at the set on the coffee table, where an extra cup sat waiting. Shuichi smiled gratefully, pouring himself some before sitting beside him.

“Where’s Ashia-san?” Shuichi asked.

“He’s at the studio. Sister Moon are doing some promotional gigs for a couple of days, so I decided to stay in,” Suguru said. Shuichi fidgeted guiltily in the silence that came between them before speaking.

“Suguru? Why are you doing all this for me?” Shuichi asked. Suguru sighed, placing his cup on an end table.

“It’s funny. I used to hate you, you know?” Suguru asked. Shuichi nodded, frowning.

“I was self-absorbed. I know, you told me,” Shuichi said. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel shut out or anything. I wish we’d talked about it back then. Maybe if I’d realized how you felt, it would have been different. I mean, I know I should have already been considering how you felt, but I’m slow like that. Bad Luck wouldn‘t have been anywhere near as good without you. I should have told you that I knew that.”

“It wasn’t that exactly. I mean, that part did annoy me,” Suguru said with a laugh, “but it was more a problem I had myself than one you did. I realize that now, and I guess that’s why I’m at peace with it.”

“A problem you had?” Shuichi asked.

“I resented you,” Suguru said with a shrug. “I felt like you had everything I longed for and you didn’t even want it.”

“What did I have that you wanted and I didn‘t?” Shuichi asked with a puzzled look. “I don’t get it.”

“No, you never did. To me it was always obvious, but even now, you have no idea, do you? It was silly for me to even blame you when you didn‘t know,” Suguru asked sadly.

“What are we talking about Suguru?” Shuichi asked in exasperation.

“Hiroshi,” Suguru said softly. “He was so in love with you, Shuichi. I thought I could make him get over you, but I really should have known better.”

Shuichi’s entire world seemed to drop out from under him at that moment. He sat the tea aside, as his hands began to tremble, and longed for something stronger. He stood, pacing the room.

“That’s -- well, that’s just ridiculous. Hiro and I have been best friends since we were kids. Sure, we’re -- well, we were really close, but Hiro wasn’t ever in love with me. That’s crazy! He never said anything! He married Ayaka!” Shuichi rambled, gesturing with his hands as he spoke.

“Calm down, Shuichi, please,” Suguru pleaded. Shuichi sat beside him, chewing his lip and staring off blankly for a moment.

“I need to call him. We need to talk about this,” Shuichi said, making to get up, before Suguru grabbed his arm.

“Shuichi, don’t be selfish. What good could possibly come of such a conversation, especially when you’re upset? Think about it,” Suguru said.

Shuichi deflated instantly, sinking back against the sofa cushions with a shaky breath.

“Did Hiro tell you he felt that way, or did you just think he did? Maybe there’s some kind of misunderstanding,” Shuichi said. “None of this makes sense.”

“I only brought it up twice, when we were together,” Suguru said, staring at his lap, where his hands were folded. “Once, after the first time he kissed me. I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t trying to use me in your place. He acted like he’d never heard anything so absurd in all his life, and he almost had me convinced that I’d been wrong. I wanted to be wrong, so I let it go.

Then -- then he just tells me one day that he’s leaving the group and marrying Ayaka. You remember how abrupt it was. We took that week break where he went to visit his parents because his mom was sick, and that was it. We got into a big fight, and I asked him why he was able to defy his parents for your sake, but not mine. I shouldn’t have asked that. I knew it was because his mother was ill and he wanted to make her happy,” Suguru sighed heavily. “Anyway, That was when he finally admitted the truth. He said it was different then because he was so in love with you that it didn’t seem like anything else mattered, and that since it hadn’t worked out and he’d lost you anyway, that he might as well make his mother happy while he still had a chance. He didn’t act as if I had even been a consideration in the decision.”

“He never said anything. Not even once, in all those years,” Shuichi said, chewing his thumbnail and wondering if Suguru kept anything to drink in the place. “He knew me well enough to know I wasn’t going to figure it out on my own, so why?”

“Maybe he was waiting for a sign you liked men, too,” Suguru said and shrugged. “And that sign was Yuki-san. Tell me, would you have given up Yuki-san for him if you had known?”

“Probably not,” Shuichi admitted. The unspoken question of what he would have done had he known before he met Yuki crept into Shuichi’s mind, only to be quickly pushed aside. Things were complicated enough already.

“So, see, then he would have just made things awkward for no reason, so what difference does it make?” Suguru asked, his usually calm voice at last betraying some of the hurt he felt. Shuichi looked at him, feeling a pang of guilt.

“It wasn’t fair the way he treated you. I’m sorry, Suguru,” Shuichi said.

“It’s in the past. I just hope he’s happy now,“ Suguru said, and stood. “Hey, it‘s almost lunchtime. Raiden will probably stop in to eat, so you want to help me in the kitchen?”

“I don’t know if you’ll call it help, but I’ll try,” Shuichi said. They each forced a smile.

OoOoO

Shuichi tried not to stare at the lanky giant who sat across from him at the narrow table, taking long pulls off his bottle of dark beer and recounting his day to Suguru, occasionally breaking into bellowing laughter at the end of his anecdotes. They made an odd pair, Shuichi thought, Ashia’s enormous presence, both physically and personality-wise, making the already small and mild mannered Suguru seem positively tiny by comparison. There was something about it that Shuichi didn’t quite like.

“Eiji was practically climbing the walls today when he found out who our houseguest is,” Ashia said, winking at Shuichi. “There was no way I was inviting him over. He’d start by humping your leg and end by stealing the covers from the guest bedroom.”

“Raiden, you’re going to freak him out,” Suguru scolded, smiling nonetheless behind his hand.

“Eiji sure freaks me out most of the time,” Ashia said, shrugging. “He has a shrine to you in his bathroom.”

“In the bathroom?” Shuichi asked, nearly choking on a bite of food.

“Yeah, told you he was weird. I actually toyed with the idea of telling him I was running home to have a threesome with the two of you just to mess with him, but I’m not entirely sure he wouldn’t have killed me,” Ashia said chuckling loudly. When he saw the other two weren’t laughing, he gave a defensive snort, crossing his arms.

“What? It’s not that far fetched. After reading about that guy in the papers today, he’s discovered his beloved has a kinky side. And he already knows I’ve got one,” Ashia said, waggling his eyebrows at Suguru, who was giving him a tight lipped frown.

“Raiden, that’s not funny,” Suguru said.

“You never think anything’s funny,” Ashia grumbled. “Go get me another beer, okay, cutie? I should have time for another before I head back.”

Suguru glared at him, but got up to go to the kitchen, Ashia swatting him on the behind as he went.

“Come on, you know I was just messing with you, right?” Ashia said, leaning across the table after Suguru left. “No hard feelings?”

“It’s fine,” Shuichi said. He felt dirty and tired, and the last thing he wanted to do right now was start an argument with Suguru’s boyfriend.

“That loser was lucky a sexy little thing like you ever gave him the time of day, right? It’ll blow over,” Ashia said, his breath reeking of stale beer. “Besides, another taint to that air of unavailability might even be good for your image, like when everyone found out you were doing that writer. Sex sells, after all.”

“I’m not even that worried about my image any more. I just want the press to leave me alone,” Shuichi said softly, picking at the food he’d lost all appetite for.

“Wouldn’t you like to make a come-back, Shuichi?” Suguru asked with a look of concern as he returned and handed Ashia his beer. “You love making music. I know you do. Didn’t being in the studio make you miss it?”

“It’s not a matter of wanting to so much as being able to,” Shuichi said, and stood, gathering their plates. “I’m going to clean up.”

Shuichi heard Ashia coaxing Suguru back from where he’d started to join him, as he scraped what was left of his lunch into the waste bin. He’d gathered the cookware they’d used and placed them in the sink with the plates, when he felt his phone vibrating against his hip.

“Hey,” Yuki said, after Shuichi answered. “I’m almost surprised you answered.”

“There aren’t a lot of people who have this number, thankfully,” Shuichi said. “I take it you saw it then.”

“Yeah. I was just wondering if you were stuck hiding from the reporters. I can ask Seguchi to get them off your back if you want,” Yuki said.

“I don’t understand you, Yuki,” Shuichi said with a sigh. “But that’s sweet of you, really.”

“So do you want me to or not?” Yuki asked irritably.

“No, it’s okay. I’m at Suguru’s. He came and got me this morning. I’m sure it’ll blow over pretty quick. I’m not big news like I used to be,” Shuichi said.

“Tohma brought me a tape of you singing with those girls,” Yuki said. “It didn’t entirely suck.” Shuichi laughed.

“That’s the first nice thing you’ve ever said about my music. It figures it would be about a song I didn’t write,” Shuichi said, running the tap.

“What the hell are you doing?” Yuki asked.

“Washing dishes. We just had lunch,” Shuichi said.

“How cozy,” Yuki muttered. “You never washed dishes when I cooked for you.”

“You never let me! You always told me to get out of your way before I broke something,” Shuichi said, smiling to himself.

“You could have insisted,” Yuki said. “So, are you working on anything else? It sounds like Seguchi’s little protégé’s pretty interested in you these days. Isn’t he some sort of big shot now?”

“He mentioned doing some gigs with Sister Moon to promote the single, but I’m not so sure, especially now,” Shuichi said.

“What, so you’re going to give up now because of some lying asshole?” Yuki asked. “Doesn’t sound like you.”

“He wasn’t lying. I slept with him,” Shuichi said with a sigh, letting the plate he was washing slip beneath the soapy water. “He’s not the first guy I’ve gone home with after getting too drunk, Yuki. He’s just the first one to decide to make some money off of it. Most of that stuff the tabloids have said about me? It’s true. I’m a total fuck up, Yuki.”

Yuki was quiet for a moment. Shuichi heard him breathe in deeply, then out, picturing him taking a drag from his cigarette. He pulled the stopper out of the drain, and went to the refrigerator, glancing through the doorway at Suguru and Ashia before getting himself a beer.

“Doesn’t matter,” Yuki said at last. “None of that shit matters, really. Even Seguchi never managed to gag all the women I used to see. You just have to act like it doesn’t bother you when they bring it up.”

“Okay, Yuki,” Shuichi said, only barely listening, and wishing things were so simple.

“Damn it, Shuichi,” Yuki said, exhaling noisily. “Why are you doing this to yourself? You were supposed to be happier.”

“Oh, so that was your plan?” Shuichi asked bitterly. “Tell me you’re sick of my moping, and kick my ass out on the street for my own good, huh?”

“You weren’t happy, even when we got back together,” Yuki said.

“Well, excuse me for not turning cartwheels! My best friend had just walked out on the band, ever think that might have had something to do with it? Of course I was depressed,” Shuichi said, slamming the bottle down on the counter and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Face it, Yuki. You just didn’t want to deal with it, because you didn‘t know how to. I get that, okay? Look, I love you, and I forgive you, and thank you for calling, but I just -- I need to go, okay?”

Shuichi hung up the phone and pressed his back to the counter, sliding down until he reached the floor. He looked up to see Suguru standing in the doorway.

“Yuki called,” Shuichi said.

“I heard,” Suguru said with a sigh. He walked over to the counter, picking up the empty beer bottle.

“Sorry. I’ll go out and buy Ashia more tomorrow,” Shuichi said. Suguru put it back and went to the refrigerator, handing Shuichi a full bottle.

“He drinks too much, anyway,” Suguru said. “Come to think of it, so do you. But I’ll let it slide tonight.”

“Thanks,” Shuichi said.

“I don’t know how you drink the stuff, to tell the truth,” Suguru said, wrinkling his nose. “But I do know two things. If I’m going to drink with you, I’m making margaritas. And we’re not going to drink sitting on the kitchen floor.”

“Fair enough,” Shuichi said, taking Suguru’s offered hand with a smile, and allowing him to pull him up from the floor. “Can I have one, too? I don’t like beer much either. It was just there.”

“Sure. I’m a lightweight anyway, so it’ll be good to share,” Suguru said, opening the freezer. “The tequila is in the cabinet behind you.”

Shuichi opened the cabinet, finding a pair of handcuffs sitting on the lowest shelf, and holding them up, one eyebrow raised. Suguru turned red.

“Those are Raiden’s. He has such a weird sense of humor,” Suguru muttered, rolling his eyes. “If you find anything else weird, don’t ask.”

“So, how did the two of you get together?” Shuichi asked, grabbing the tequila, and putting the handcuffs back.

“Well, I produced their first album, and we were in the studio a lot,” Suguru said, taking the bottle from Shuichi. “We absolutely couldn’t stand each other. He would second guess every little change I made, question or flat out ignore every suggestion -- I wanted to quit and push them off on Sakano, but Tohma wouldn’t let me. I couldn’t deny that I found him attractive though. He had this way of pushing my buttons, I guess.”

“So what happened?” Shuichi asked. Suguru gave an embarrassed smile, before turning away to retrieve a large glass pitcher.

“Well, things kind of came to a head, I suppose. We were yelling at each other, and Eiji stormed off, and the next thing I knew we were kind of making out. I don’t even remember who started it,” Suguru said. “It was really funny though. We somehow ended up on the mixing table, and the arrangement I’d made of the song we were arguing about starting playing. He stopped and starting laughing about half-way through it, and I asked him what his problem was. He admitted that after giving it a try, he liked my version better anyway.” Shuichi laughed.

“That sounds like something that would happen to us,” Shuichi said, then awkwardly added, “Without the, um, making out part, of course.”

“Yeah, you used to give me hell over my arrangements, too,” Suguru said with a frown.

“And then end up eating crow every single time,” Shuichi added with a shrug. “It used to drive me nuts how I’d think I’d come up with something I thought sounded perfect, and then you’d just waltz in and make it sound better in like, five minutes.”

“Oh, so that’s why you were always so pissy,” Suguru said teasingly, giving the mixture in the pitcher one last stir. “I think we’re done. Want to be the guinea pig?” Shuichi accepted the glass Suguru poured for him.

“Good enough for me,” Shuichi said.

They carried everything into the living room, settling in on the sofa.

“I was hoping I could be a good influence on you, and here you are getting me drunk in the middle of the freaking day,” Suguru said, shaking his head. “We should be able to go get your stuff without being mobbed tomorrow. I set up a good publicist for you while you were asleep, someone who’s worked for NG for a while. He’ll give them some sort of statement, and get them off your trail.”

“Wait, what?” Shuichi asked. “Go get my stuff? I should be able to just back to my place then, right?” Suguru shook his head.

“I think you should move in here until you get cleaned up, don’t you?” Suguru asked with a polite smile. Shuichi gaped at him.

“You’re crazy. You can’t just keep me, like I’m a stray cat or something!” Shuichi said in disbelief. “Besides, what’s Ashia-san going to say?”

“Stray cats have better survival skills,” Suguru said with a smirk. “And Raiden has no say in the matter. This is my apartment, he just squats here when he feels like it.”

“But there’s nothing to clean up, really,” Shuichi said, fidgeting. “I mean, I go clubbing because things are just kind of empty for me right now, I guess. It’s not like I’m on drugs or anything.”

“Let’s see, you aren’t working, there’s no new music, and you’re getting drunk enough to pass out on park benches or sleep with total strangers on a daily basis. You’re so thin I can see your ribs, and I wouldn’t put a dog I liked in that place you’re staying. Sounds like a mess to me,” Suguru said. “You can’t live off our royalties forever, Shuichi.”

“You never mince words, do you?” Shuichi asked with a frown. “You don’t have time to babysit me, anyway. It’s going to get old really fast. I’ll just disappoint you, like everyone else.”

“But you’ll stay, right?” Suguru asked. Shuichi looked at him for a long moment, wondering if the younger man was lonely to be taking on such a hopeless cause as himself.

“I guess I could stay for a little while, since my lease is nearly up,” Shuichi said. “If that’s what you really want.”

“Good,” Suguru said with a smile. “You can start the day after tomorrow.”

“Start what now?” Shuichi asked blankly, wondering if he’d missed something.

“You’re my new assistant. That is, until you feel like you want to start singing again. You didn’t think I was going to let you sit around here feeling sorry for yourself, did you?” Suguru asked, clinking his glass against Shuichi‘s.

lucymay_lj @ 2008-09-06T00:12:00

2008-09-06T05:07:50Z

meme from trowicia:

A) People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs & replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.

B) Tag 8 people to do this quiz & those who are tagged cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by & cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by. Continue this game by sending it to other people.

I'm ignoring part B. ^^;

1. What are your nicknames?
Well, Lucy May is one of them. ;) Folks at work call me Carol Anne sometimes.

2. What do you do before bedtime?
Kiss the ferrets goodnight and say my prayers.

3. What fandom(s) are you most into at the moment?
Fullmetal Alchemist for reading, and Gravitation for writing. I'm also hooked on webcomics these days.

4. What is your favorite scent?
I'm especially fond of things that smell like red apples these days. There's also a candle at work that smells just like Fruit Loops. It's awesome!

5. What video games are you playing at the moment?
Just Sims2 and Civilization these days on PC. My PS2 has been getting some much needed rest since I'm too cheap to buy new games.

6. What do you eat the most?
Waffles, because they're easy to make.

7. What's your favorite pair of socks?
My Rolling Stones socks

8. What was your first big fandom?
If you don't count the internet, then the Beatles. If you do, then Harry Potter.

9. Is there anything that has made you happy in the past few days?
My friends at work always make me smile.

10. Do you have a good body-image?
Not at all. I hate my body.

11. What color are the walls in your room?
blue

12. What websites do you visit daily?
LJ of course, MySpace (yeah, yeah, I know, but all my RL friends have one), fandom wank and smackjeeves (web comics).

13. What city, country would you most want to live in if not where you are now?
I used to want to live in New Orleans, but that obviously has become less appealing with all the hurricanes. I'd kind of like to live in one of the smaller towns on the outskirts of my city where it's quieter and I could see the stars at night.

14. What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
Trowicia is smart, kind and very talented. She's been a wonderful friend to me.

15. What’s the last song that got stuck in your head?
"Country Death Song" by the Violent Femmes, which is pretty freaking random, since I haven't even heard it in ages!

16. What’s your favorite item of clothing?
My red wool peacoat

17. What's better: to give or to receive?
Giving, hands down. I love to buy people stuff "just because".

18. What would you do if you see $100 lying on the ground?
If I was sure the person it belonged to wasn't coming back for it, I'd keep it. What can I say? I'm poor.

19. What items could you not go without during the day?
cigarettes, a clock and something to read

20. What should you be doing right now?
Nothing in particular, really.

21. Do you always use conditioner when washing your hair?
Yes. My hair is very long and tangles easily.

Illuminating the Darkness, 16

2008-07-19T17:40:10Z

The area they entered was a stark contrast to the roughly hewn tunnels from which they’d come. The walls were neatly bricked, with deep, empty shelves lining the walls, and between them, a firmly boarded up doorway.

“Are we in someone’s wine cellar?” Tsuzuki asked uneasily, peering about like they may be caught intruding any minute.

“It is very likely. Many old buildings have basements that run into the catacombs and have long since been sealed,” Finch said. “In fact, I recall that the last time I entered it was beneath a public bar. Why did we not take that route, Sophie? Surely it is less dangerous?”

“It got bricked up about a year ago,” Sophie said with a shrug. “Some of the thugs lurking around down here used it to break in when the place was closed.”

They followed her through a stone archway, which led into a complicated labyrinth of tunnels beyond. Sophie led them around the winding and intersecting pathways surely, though to her companions they all looked more or less alike, though some were more narrow than others. It felt as though they’d already marched for an hour, before the girl stopped, pointing at a lichen speckled metal sign nailed near the low ceiling.

“There we go. Now we know what street we’re under,” Sophie announced, wiping her dirty, upturned nose on her sleeve.

“There are street signs? Oh, how handy!” Watari said.

“A street collapsed into the quarries a really long time ago,” Sophie said. “They sent a lot of work crews down to strengthen things up, and they made maps and put up signs and stuff.”

“Is there a still a danger of places collapsing since the renovation?” Watari asked, glancing up at the ceiling suspiciously.

“There are strict standards for building in Paris, due to the potential instability of hollow ground below,” Finch said. “But it still is not unheard of. It is just one of many reasons that the chambers are closed to the public.”

“There’s still lots of people down here though. Artists, crooks, explorers, vagrants, you’d be surprised,” Sophie said. “There’s a lot of people they call cataphiles that like to hang out down here all the time. You’ve got to be careful, though. I’ve met some real loonies.”

“Well, now that we know where we are, where are we going?” Hy asked. Finch sighed, pulling the folded map from his pocket and reluctantly presenting it to Sophie at last. The girl’s eyes gleamed as she took it and spread it out on the ground, crouching beside it.

“Not bad,” she said appraisingly. “I mean, I’ve seen better, but they’ve got the landmarks noted. There’s the beach.”

“The beach?” Watari asked. “Is there some kind of underground lake?”

“No, silly,” Sophie said with a grin. “It’s just what they call it. It’s a chamber with lots of sand on the floor, and people like to paint pretty things on the walls.”

“We hardly have time for sightseeing, Sophie,” Finch said, pointing to an area in red in the center of the carefully drawn array of lines, and clearing his throat.

“Geez,” Sophie said with a whistle. “That’s in the very heart there. Even I’ve never been that far in.”

“Can you take us there?” Finch asked.

“Well, yeah, I can figure it out, but it’s going to take us a while,” Sophie said.

“Could we get there any sooner if we went back to the surface and entered at a different place?” Tsuzuki asked.

“No, not really,” Sophie said, her face screwed up in concentration. “I mean, I know of a loose manhole, but it’s on the other side of town, and by the time we went all the way out there, it’d be about the same difference.”

“We have no time to waste then,” Finch said. “You may hold onto the map for now.”

Sophie tried to look nonchalant, snapping the map up and cramming it into her pack, but gave herself away by the skip in her step as she proceeded to lead them onwards.

XXXX

“This place is simply astounding!” Watari exclaimed, falling breathlessly onto a bench carved out of the limestone, an equally impressive stone table before it. “But you know, even we need rest.”

“We can stop here then, though we‘ve not made as much progress as I‘d hoped” Finch said.

The path they had followed to come this far had indeed left the men exhausted. Sophie had taken them through spaces they had to crawl through, sections so narrow they could barely squeeze through side-ways, and around many flooded tunnels. And, as Sophie had predicted, they’d come upon a more than a few groups of people, most of them young, who looked at the party of men being led by a small girl with curiosity but asked no questions.

There was a surprising lot of evidence of the people who had come before them as well, many of the chambers they wandered through decorated in mysterious ways, including a statue of a man emerging from the stone walls, and a garden of plastic vines and flowers.

“Thank goodness!” Tsuzuki said, stretching and giving a wide yawn. “I know I’m ready to set up camp!” He dropped the pack he’d been carrying on his back with a thud, and sat on the ground beside it, fishing through it eagerly. “I wonder if I could convince Suzaku to make us a campfire?”

“I don’t think that would be a very good idea with the lack of ventilation, Tsuzuki,” Hisoka said with exasperation, spreading out his sleeping bag before sitting beside him.

“But I wanted s’mores,” Tsuzuki whimpered, looking desolately at the bag of marshmallows he’d pulled from his bag.

“Please tell me you brought some food besides sweets,” Hisoka groaned. “I knew I should have never put you in charge of getting food for both of us.”

“I’ve got sardines,” Sophie said, holding out a tin of oily fish.

“No, thanks,” Hisoka said with a forced smile, taking a box of graham crackers from Tsuzuki.

“So how did you and Finch meet, Sophie,” Hy said, then his eyes widened upon realizing his mistake. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Sophie said, her large brown eyes looking down at her tin. “I got lost, that’s all. And Finch found me down here.”

Silence fell over them for a moment, everyone eating the rations of food they’d brought, and settling in for a very cold sleep.

“You speak French and English both very well, Sophie,” Watari said, watching the girl play with a compass that she’d dug out of her pocket.

“My mom was French, and my dad was English. Dad wasn’t around for very long -- he -- well, he was someone important or something back in England and he couldn’t bring me or mom back with him because they weren’t married. He left when I was pretty small, and mom just didn’t have a lot of time. I had a great brother once though, Etienne. He’s the one who made sure I kept up with my English,” Sophie said with a sad smile.

“What happened to him?” Watari asked.

“I -- I don’t know. He was just gone one day. I know something bad happened though. He would have never left me alone with her,” Sophie said. “She always had strange men around, and I didn’t like the way they would look at me. I ran away when I was eleven.”

Hisoka sensed a strong wave of conflicting emotion that startled him. He looked up in alarm, and saw a man emerging from the shadows behind where Finch was sitting. The feeling evaporated as soon as it had come, as Finch whipped around quickly and got to his feet.

The man held up his hands in a show of no harm meant, rambling apologetically in French.

“Who are you?” Finch demanded warily in English.

“I’m just a passerby,” the man answered in a gravelly voice, his eyes quickly scanning their faces, and his mouth twisted into a yellow toothed smirk. He was disheveled and unshaven, a shock of filthy blonde hair spilling from beneath his hat, and wearing an old and torn green trench coat. “You all English?”

“Well,” Watari said with a grin. “We have two who are French, one Romanian, an American, and the rest of us are from Japan.”

“You got the whole damn UN down here, don’t you?” the man said with a laugh. “Well, greetings to the fellow American, and the rest of you. I’m Sam. Ziggy should be this way in a minute. He’s taking a piss.”

As soon as he said this, a short man with dark hair and glasses timidly emerged from behind his companion, looking to him curiously. Sam gave him an answer, in what sounded like German, that seemed to satisfy him for a moment, until he got a good look at Sophie. His eyes widened as he pointed at her, exclaiming something to Sam, who shook his head.

“Ziggy’s been hanging out down here too long. He’s starting to let it get to him,” Sam said.

“What is that he said about demon children?” Watari asked.

“Ah, so you picked up some of that, did you?” Sam said with a grin. “Well, you see, there’s a bit of a legend down here among the more seasoned cataphiles that there are some children wandering around down here who never seem to age. He says the little missy there fits one of the descriptions to a tee.” The men looked at each other uneasily. Sam laughed and shrugged.

“Nothing to be freaked out about, fellas. She just looks like a normal kid to me, if a bit young to be keeping the company of a bunch of grown men in a cave,” Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

“I‘m her father,” Tsuzuki blurted out, nodding enthusiastically, looking around as if to find a way to further elaborate his story. “Yeah, and Hisoka here’s her moth-- er, her uncle.” He followed his exclamation with a pained yelp as Hisoka kicked him in the shin.

“I see,” Sam said, rubbing his chin whiskers. “Hey, man, it’s none of my business, right?”

“Can you get your friend to tell us more about these sightings he mentioned?” Finch asked.

“Well, I think they’re a bunch of bull hockey myself, but sure, it‘s a good atmosphere for spook stories,” Sam said, turning to Ziggy and asking him. Watari’s eyes widened slightly as Ziggy told his tale, but he left it to Sam to explain.

“Well, there’s three of them in particular that people have reported seeing for years. One’s like the little one here, a little dark haired French girl in dirty clothes and a hat. The other two come in a pair, a boy and a girl, dressed in Indian saris, of all things. The French girl’s supposed to be pretty friendly, but if you see the twins, you better watch your back. Seems they have a pretty evil sense of humor, and like to lead people in the wrong direction and get them good and lost. They say some of those who are aren’t ever seen again,” Sam said.

“It’s them. It has to be,” Hy whispered, shivering.

A/N: There is a mixture of fact and fiction in depicting the Parisian Catacombs in this story, but as most of it is based on fact, I feel I should acknowledge that I have at least half-remembered information from the Paris “Cities of the Underworld“ program on the Travel Channel, Wikipedia, and National Geographic. Being the history geek I am, I’ve read plenty about them since I was a kid, but these are the most recently consulted sources that come to mind, and no infringement is intended, nor is anything directly quoted .

Illuminating the Darkness, parts 14 & 15

2008-07-13T13:12:10Z

Without further ado, as there's been far too much ado already...

Tsuzuki and Hisoka reached the lobby, where the others sat waiting for them on a row of seats near the check-in desk. Alain was not with them. Finch studied a long sheet of well creased paper, his lips bloodless as he bit them in an expression of deep concentration. His hazel eyes rolled up slowly at their approach.

“Are you well enough to continue?” Finch asked, looking so exhausted that he seemed scarcely able to answer in the affirmative to his own inquiry. Tsuzuki nodded.

“Good,” Finch said, folding the paper back deftly and standing. “I have acquired evidence at last of something I have suspected for years. We have no time to waste.” He strode out to the street briskly, leaving the others exchanging looks of confusion before following.

The sidewalk traffic was heavy, and the men struggled to keep Finch within their sight as he effortlessly wove around the throng of early commuters on streets he knew instinctively. Hisoka shivered, feeling something distinctly odd, though he could not quite place it. It seemed that there was an urgency to the rate at which they traveled, and it unnerved him.

“I saw Finch and Alain leave the hotel last night when I was out for a smoke,” Hy called from behind Tsuzuki and Hisoka, lagging slightly behind. “I asked where they were going, but he was just a smartass to me as usual. He came back alone this morning.”

The almost comically single file of shinigami, nearly breathless from pursuit, nearly marched into one another as the one that led them came to an abrupt halt before an alleyway. Finch glanced back to where Hy was stumbling to meet them, his expression unreadable, and slowed his pace before stepping into the shadows ahead.

“I visited the office of Dr. Henri Romaine, a known associate of the Vemulakonda family last night. He had been murdered,” Finch said quietly, leading them through an odd labyrinth of alleys and less occupied back streets. “I found this map hidden in the bottom of a locked drawer in his office, and an appointment book with a vague reference that seemed to be about a delivery. Alain found -- there was also, this.” Finch stopped, reaching into his jacket and pulled out a torn, muddy scrap of paper in a plastic bag.

“Why didn’t you just tell us this back at the hotel?” Watari asked, taking the bag from him with interest and holding it up to the ray of sunlight that filtered weakly between the buildings they stood between.

Finch opened his mouth to speak, when his cell phone rang. He hastily answered, turning his back to them.

“Did you lose them?” Finch asked in English, before conversing in French.

“Because we were being followed,” Hisoka said. They watched in tense silence as Finch’s voice rose argumentatively, and he at last hung up the phone, shoving it into his pocket with an exasperated look that broke his usual composure momentarily.

“Where is Alain?” Tsuzuki asked.

“I sent him back to the office. His business is no longer in the field,” Finch said.

“Who did he lead away from us?” Hisoka asked firmly. Finch looked at him irritably, and sighed.

“I do not know. He sensed we were being followed last night, though I never saw anything. He has always been very sensitive to spiritual forces, and I do not believe our pursuers were human,” Finch said. “He says he no longer felt any presence when he reached the Ministry.”

“You were worried about him, weren’t you?” Watari asked. Finch gave him a withering look before glancing down at the bag the scientist held.

“What do you make of that?” Finch asked. Watari shook his head.

“I speak Romanian, but I’m afraid when it comes to reading it --” Watari stopped in surprise, as Michael snaked a pale arm around him and snatched the bag, giving him a sheepish half-smile.

“So, does that mean Alain is an empath, like Hisoka?” Hy asked, while Michael studied the ruined parchment.

“Empaths are attuned to the emotions and thought patterns of humans,” Finch explained. “Alain’s gift is different.”

Hisoka’s eyes sought Tsuzuki’s, who looked at him quizzically.

“No,” they heard Michael gasp softly, distracting them. The boy’s shaggy dark hair shadowed pale blue eyes that were tearful, as his knees seemed to weaken. He fell back against the wall, shaking his head.

“What is it Michael? What’s wrong?” Watari asked gently, steadying the boy with a hand on his shoulder. Hy looked on, biting his lip, and looking torn.

“This is a document from the Romanian sector of the Ministry,” Michael said, placing a finger to the bottom of the page. “I can make out my mother’s own seal, just there.”

“How would a mortal doctor have gotten such a thing?” Watari asked in wonder.

“What kind of document is it?” Hisoka asked. Michael frowned deeply, letting the parchment slip from his shaking fingers.

“From what I can make out, it looks like it concerns the death of a shinigami by the name of Viorel Lior. I knew him,” Michael said, gazing at where the page had fallen to the ground.

“That name sounds familiar, somehow,” Tsuzuki said, his brow furrowing. Michael looked up at him with confusion, his eyes shining.

“It shouldn’t. He died over forty years ago,” Michael whispered.

“Perhaps I’m mistaken,” Tsuzuki said, looking at him sympathetically. “Was he a friend of yours?”

Michael shook his head, avoiding Tsuzuki’s eyes by gathering the sheet and handing it to Watari. Hisoka glanced at Hy, a succession of conflicted emotions playing across the young man’s face.

“We will not find any answers here. Come,” Finch said impatiently, and led them from the alley.

XXXX

“What is this map of?” Tsuzuki asked, as they followed Finch onto a deserted street, in a neighborhood that looked all but abandoned, the buildings in ill repair, and many of the windows broken or boarded up.

“The catacombs,” Finch answered, heading into an overgrown path beside an empty building. He glanced back with a frown. “Watch for roots, Hy. It would be inconvenient if you were injured.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Hy grumbled, looking embarrassed.

Finch dove into the thigh high grass and brambles, making his way to a rusted gate blocking the back yard, and kicking it with a curse. Watari made his way to the front of the group, inspecting the padlock.

“Um, this one isn’t booby trapped is it?” Watari asked with a nervous laugh, fishing his tools from his lab coat. Finch shook his head.

Watari made short work of the weathered lock, stepping aside and allowing Finch to pass. They followed him into a small yard behind the building, as Finch made his way towards a dilapidated tool shed.

Finch darted into the old wooden building, the others rushing forward, as what sounded like a scuffle came from inside, a surprised high pitch yelp echoing off the surrounding buildings. They stood back with surprise as Finch drug what appeared to be a very dirty young boy in ragged clothes from the shack by the ear.

“Ow! What the hell, Finch?” the child screeched in English, squirming indignantly, and letting off a stream of what were no doubt curses in French.

“You’re coming with us, Sophie. I need your help, and you owe me,” Finch said, releasing what, on closer inspection, was indeed a girl.

“Yeah, yeah, what is it this time?” Sophie grumbled, stopping her protests with a startled look as she spied the others. “Who the heck are they?”

“They are the same as I. We need to get into the catacombs,” Finch answered. “I have found a map.”

“A map?” Sophie said, her piqued interest taking her attention from the others. “Let me see it.”

“No,” Finch answered, crossing his arms across his chest and smirking. Sophie pouted, tugging at the filthy newsboy hat the concealed her hair.

“Where’s Alain? I like him better. He’s nice,” Sophie muttered.

Finch ignored her, taking her arm and leading her towards the street.

“Sophie knows the catacombs. She will guide us,” Finch said.

“I’m not going anywhere until you feed me,” Sophie protested. “I haven’t had anything to eat in months!”

Chapter 15

The men sat at a sidewalk café a few blocks from where they’d found the girl, Finch sighing impatiently all the while. The motley group of shinigami escorting the ragged waif earned a few strange looks from the other diners, as Sophie seemed to order every desert off the menu, and attacked them with fervor. Hisoka watched in amusement the mirrored acts of gluttony sitting on either side of him, Tsuzuki matching her enthusiasm in attacking his own meal.

“Did you say that you had not eaten for months, child?” Watari asked, as Sophie licked her plate before turning to the next. “I’m sure this is an exaggeration, but watching you keep up with Tsuzuki makes me wonder.”

“Of course she’s exaggerating, silly. If she’d gone that long without eating, she wouldn’t be alive,” Hy said with laugh.

“M’not alive,” Sophie mumbled around a mouthful, shrugging.

The men stopped, looking at her curiously, then to Finch.

“He was supposed to make me go, but I didn’t want to,” Sophie said, pointing at Finch with her spoon.

“You were supposed to take her to the other side? But --” Hisoka started.

“I convinced my superiors that she could be a valuable contact, and she has been,” Finch cut in, sipping his wine and looking thoughtfully out into the street.

“Do you have that many cases that end up underground?” Watari asked. Finch looked at him with a sardonic smile.

“You’d be surprised. The tunnels run at least 300 kilometers throughout the city They are very difficult to navigate, much less patrol. That is why I always suspected that the Vemulakonda may use them as a refuge. We’ve discovered their above ground facilities too easily,” Finch said.

“You think that they’ve managed to conceal an entire underground laboratory for their experiments down there?” Hisoka asked in disbelief.

“Strange things have gone on there undiscovered before. There was once an entire bar and cinema that operated secretly beneath the Palais de Chaillot. The authorities probably do not know half of the secrets to be found there. Artists, vagrants, explorers, people of all walks of life have made it their playground. Sophie does not know the entire system, but she spent many years on the streets and beneath them. Her sense of direction can be uncanny. Many grown men have lost their way in the catacombs,” Finch said.

Sophie beamed with pride, licking chocolate syrup from her fingers.

XXXX

The shinigami and their guide walked across a vacant lot on the outskirts of town, shouldering the supplies they had procured from a shop in the city. The grass was mostly brown, and the ground littered with bottles, old clothes, the remnants of trash fires, and other signs of habitation by the city’s homeless, though the place was unoccupied by anyone else and eerily silent for its proximity to an urban area. The ground steadily sloped before reaching a steep drop, where train tracks ran through a shallow trench.

“We’ve got to go down there and follow the tracks for a bit,” Sophie said, pointing down, before clambering down the steep bank. Hisoka saw Hy grimace slightly, and offered him a hand. Hy smiled at him in surprise and gratitude, and using Hisoka’s shoulder and arm to steady himself, the two followed behind the others, finally reaching the narrow strip of gravel below that was mostly taken by the railroad tracks.

“Thanks, Hisoka,” Hy said, looking embarrassed.

“Are you sure you’re going to be able to make it okay?” Hisoka asked. “If we’re going underground, we’ll probably have to move through some pretty treacherous places.” Hy sighed, and pulled a small bottle of pills from his pocket, shaking it.

“I can get around pretty much as good as I used to, it’s just the pain --” Hy trailed off, shaking his head. “I’ve been avoiding taking these things, but once we get in there, it’s going to be important for me to move in my corporate form, as Jarrett always called it.”

“If they help, why haven’t you been taking them?” Hisoka asked.

“My mom,” Hy said with a shrug. “Well, she used to take lots of pills, and I didn’t see that they did her anything I’d call good. They‘re what killed her.”

“I’m sorry,” Hisoka said. He saw Hy look ahead briefly, and followed his gaze to where Michael was looking back at them with a frown.

“So, what are we supposed to do if a train comes?” Watari asked loudly up ahead of them, where he was holding his arms out on either side and walking along one of the rails like it were a balance beam. Hy giggled nervously, his wide gray eyes showing a touch of unease.

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of room to get out of the way,” Hisoka said, looking doubtfully at the wedge of space between the gravel and the side of the hill.

XXXX

After a thankfully train-free hike, the group came upon an overpass, where the train ran beneath an empty road.

“This is it!” Sophie called, scrambling beneath the concrete bridge, and approaching one arched side of the inner wall. They circled her as they caught up, watching her disappear with a grin back at them into a low, jagged hole that looked as though it had been made with a sledge hammer. Finch and Michael followed without a word, while Tsuzuki looked at Watari with alarm.

“You first,” Tsuzuki said. Watari rolled his eyes, crouching beside the hole.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Watari said, crawling into the gap. “I guess this isn’t the ideal time for me to remember that I’m not particularly fond of closed in spaces,” he called back with an uneasy laugh.

Hisoka and the others followed, and were soon in darkness, the cold rock somewhat damp beneath them. Hisoka started slightly at the eerie, echoed sound of Sophie humming a children’s song ahead of them. As his eyes adjusted, he could just make out the dim glow of her flashlight.

After just enough time to make Hisoka begin to truly sympathize with Watari’s earlier fears, he heard a splash and reverberating giggles and curses ahead before emerging into narrow but thankfully higher ceilinged tunnel. Tsuzuki caught him by the arm before he could step into the sluice that ran slowly along the side of the wall, and lifted him over it and onto the damp stone beyond.

“Tsuzuki! I think I could have managed,” Hisoka grumbled with embarrassment, before turning to warn Hy to watch his step.

“Are any of these caverns open to the public?” Watari asked ahead of them as they fell into single file. Hisoka fished out his own flashlight, watching his step along the uneven rock beneath him.

“Only about two kilometers out of hundreds,” Finch replied. There is a path through some of the ossuaries that is closed off from the rest.”

“Oh, how fascinating! I shall have to go there sometime when I’m not here on business,” Watari said cheerfully. Hisoka didn’t have to see Finch to know his eyes rolled as he gave a grunt in reply.

“Over here, guys!” Sophie called out. Hisoka looked ahead to see an opening as roughly hewn as the one they’d gone through at the overpass, but much larger. “We’re officially entering the catacombs now.”

Sophie and Finch went through, Watari lingering briefly to observe a brightly painted line off graffiti above the hole.

“Welcome to hell,” Watari read. “Well, that doesn’t sound very pleasant.”

Gravi fic: Sugar and Spice

2008-04-11T01:09:33Z

I wrote a story!

Title: Sugar and Spice
rating: PG-13
summary: Too much time off seems to be making Shuichi act strangely, but Yuki's not complaining.

“C’mon, Yuki! It’ll be fun,” Shuichi coaxed, looking at him upside down from where he leaned his head back on the kitchen chair.

“Sorry, I don’t remember how to play Old Maid,” Yuki muttered, staying resolutely on the couch in the living room.

“Not Old Maid, poker,” Shuichi stressed, ignoring the dig. “Come on! You just said you were bored and that there’s nothing good on TV on Sunday.”

Yuki grunted, flipping through the channels, determined to contradict his own assessment. That seemed to buy him some peace. Shuichi fell silent in his pleas for attention, as Yuki pretended to find entertainment in a game show.

After clearing a few categories of trivia questions in his mind, and rolling his eyes repeatedly as the contestants failed to answer them correctly, he looked towards the silent kitchen. He didn’t want to jinx it, but he did need a beer. Leaving the couch with a heavy sigh, he looked through the open kitchen door, to find the brat quietly working away at the table. Eyes narrowed, he walked into the room to see Shuichi carefully laying one card atop another in neat little rows in a game of solitaire.

“Mika got those to annoy me. It worked,” Yuki commented, seeing the pictures of scantily clad women that graced the back of the previously unopened deck. “Where the hell did you find those, anyway?”

“Hmm?” Shuichi murmured, looking up from his game. “Oh, they were in the pocket of one of your old jackets.”

Shuichi had oddly gotten the bug to do spring cleaning last week, including getting everything in his closet dry-cleaned. Bad Luck were taking a break after their latest tour, and it seemed the little singer was getting stir-crazy. Oh, well, better he take it out on the apartment then on me, Yuki thought.

“Where did you learn to play poker, anyway?” Yuki asked, getting his beer and watching the calm, methodic way Shuichi laid out the deck. He found it unsettling to see Shuichi sit so still for so long.

“K taught me. It gave us something to do on the tour bus,” Shuichi said, laying down another card. “You know who’s really good at it? Suguru. K said he’d created a monster.”

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Yuki said, picturing Seguchi’s young protégé. He sat across from Shuichi, watching his smile of satisfaction as he completed a row.

“So, what are the stakes?” Yuki said, placing his beer on the table.

Shuichi turned his face up with a look of surprise that faded into one of triumph, his violet eyes sparkling. He deftly swept the cards into a stack, shuffling them with a fluid grace that gave Yuki pause.

“I dunno,” Shuichi said with a coy smirk. “What do you want?”

Shuichi was good, Yuki had to admit to himself after countless hands had been played. Yuki was better, of course, but Shuichi had still managed to catch him off guard on a few rounds. Yuki was duly impressed at his spastic little lover’s practiced ability to control himself. And God did he enjoy it when the boy lost a hand with these stakes…

“See? Wasn’t that fun, Yuki?” Shuichi licked his lips and purred, getting up off his knees before him and slipping into his lap.

And Yuki had to admit something else to himself: It had been.

OoOoO

“What the hell are you doing?” Yuki turned in his chair and asked in exasperation as Shuichi passed his office on the way to the laundry room for the third time. Shuichi stopped, with a sheepish grin. Was that a garden hose strewn over his shoulder?

“I’m sorry. Am I being too noisy?” Shuichi asked. Why is he dressed like that? Yuki wondered, looking at the shrunken tee shirt and cut off jean shorts the boy wore.

“Where are you going with that?” Yuki asked, referring to the garden hose, but still not quite taking his eyes off the outfit.

“Well, it was supposed to be a surprise,” Shuichi said with a pout, “but I thought I’d wash your car.”

“I see,” Yuki said, unsure how to respond. “Well, be sure to roll the windows up first, moron.” Shuichi rolled his eyes and gave an indignant little huff, before skipping back on his way towards the front door.

Yuki tried and failed to regain his concentration, pushing away from the desk. He didn’t know whether he should think that the brat needed more breaks like this, since he’d proven to be so oddly productive, or of he should be calling Hiro to come take the brat somewhere to distract him since he’d obviously lost his mind.

He shuffled into the kitchen, noting what a pleasant, sunny day it was outside as he got a drink, his mind straying back to the way those shorts had clung to Shuichi as he’d gone by. He loved that car, he reasoned. He’d probably better supervise.

Squinting in the sunlight, Yuki found that Shuichi had already worked up quite a lather on the hood of the black car, leaning forward over it, his pert little behind wiggling as he scrubbed, hose in one hand and sponge in the other.

“Not so hard. You’ll scratch the paint,” Yuki warned, his voice a bit lower than he’d intended.

Shuichi reeled around in fright, not having heard him approach, and promptly soaked Yuki with the hose, cigarette and all. His eyes wide with terror, he froze, the droplets of water falling from he tips of his pink hair catching the sunlight as they rolled down the collar of his thin, damp shirt. Yuki cursed, throwing the soggy cigarette to the ground, and stalked towards his skittish prey.

“I’m so sorry,” Shuichi whimpered, ducking his head like preparing for a blow, before being hoisted onto the hood of the car with a startled squeak.

“Since you already got me wet anyway,” Yuki murmured, pressing him back and cutting off any further apologies.

Soaking wet but fully sated, the pair began to fall asleep on the warm leather backseat of the car, as Yuki was beyond caring about what state it was in.

“But I never got your car clean,” Shuichi protested over a wide yawn.

“More fun making it dirty again,” Yuki muttered, closing his eyes.

OoOoO

The problem with finding a way to greet Yuki at the door with a sexy surprise, was that Yuki was always home, Shuichi thought, as he turned the frozen steaks over in the pan. He gave a little yelp, as the steak popped and splashed him on the chest. Maybe he should have waited until he was done cooking before he got naked, he thought with a frown.

Luckily for him, Yuki had to step out to see his editor, and Shuichi leapt on the opportunity. Sure, the cooking dinner thing and the sexy greeting thing were two different ideas, but he thought it very creative of him combine them. After all, he didn’t get this chance every day.

The phone rang, and Shuichi turned the heat down before gracefully leaping for it. This prancing around the house naked thing was ridiculously fun, he thought to himself with a giggle, as he picked up the receiver.

Except when it’s your mom calling, Shuichi thought with a blush as Mrs. Shindou’s voice greeted him cheerfully, asking if he was being a good boy. Shuichi grabbed the frilly apron that Tohma kept here for his own strange reasons off a hook in the kitchen, tying it around his waist quickly, as if his mother would somehow know that he was naked.

It turned out to be a very good thing she had called after all, Shuichi thought later when he hung up the phone after asking his mother for advice on cooking a good steak.

Advice which hadn’t included how to work around a very late Yuki, Shuichi thought, feeling near tears as he curled up on the couch two hours later.

OoOoO

Yuki felt relieved to finally be free of the boring, stuffy meeting with his editor, who hadn’t warned him that the publisher himself just happened to be dropping by and was in the mood for cocktails. He really hadn’t been in the mindset for that crap today, he thought, turning the key in the lock.
Well, at least it looked like the brat hadn’t burned the house down while he was out. Or had he tried? Yuki could have sworn he smelled cooking, as he entered the room.

Following his nose, he bypassed the front room in favor of the kitchen, wondering what Shuichi was up to. He wasn’t there, but Yuki did find a platter with a surprisingly appetizing looking, if cold, steak, and a bowl of tossed salad. He ventured in to the living room, his eyebrow considerably raised at the sight of Shuichi, completely naked except for a frilly apron, sleeping peacefully on the couch.

He stepped towards him, as an open magazine slid to the floor at his feet, catching his eye. It looked like one of those rags for women full of sex and fashion tips that Mika was always reading, he thought, picking it up.

“Spice Things Up! How to Keep Your Man Hopelessly in Love with You!” proclaimed the headline of the article, which listed off numerous ideas to try with your lover.

“1. Invite him to play some one-on-one poker, a game that can have some very sexy stakes!
2. Show him that you appreciate him by washing his car. Dress sexy for it, and the car won’t be the only thing getting lathered up!
3. How about greeting him at the door in nothing but a smile?
4. Give your man a nice, manly steak dinner.
5. Two words: sensual massage!
6. Make him a very special desert. Sound dull? Then take it to the bedroom and serve it on your stomach!”

Yuki blanched, staring at the article in disbelief. Did Shuichi really think he had to try this hard? He rolled up the magazine in annoyance, preparing to swat the boy awake, when Shuichi stirred, blinking up at him with a sweet, bleary expression.

“Yuki?” Shuichi asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, before seeming to realize how very naked and silly he must look, and blushing deeply. “Oh, you were late, and I was kinda --”

“Planning something, brat?” Yuki said, dropping the magazine and sitting on the couch beside him, running a hand over his thigh.

“Yeah, but it got spoiled,” Shuichi said, biting his lip. “I had you a nice dinner made, and now it’s all cold, and I wanted --”

Yuki shushed him gently, playing with the hem of the apron, and pushing it upwards.

“If you’d come to the door like that, dinner would have gotten cold anyway,” Yuki murmured, biting Shuichi’s ear. Shuichi laughed uneasily, and gave a tiny moan.

“Yeah, I guess it would have,” Shuichi said, leaning his neck to give better access.

Yeah, he did feel a little irritated with Shuichi’s moronic idea of using something as stupid as one of Mika’s magazines to reassure himself of Yuki’s love. It raised questions. It made the novelist wonder if Shuichi thought all this was really necessary. But right now, an argument about the state of their relationship was the last thing on his agenda. He’d put it off until a more appropriate time. Like after Shuichi had tried the desert thing. He really liked the sound of that one.

A/N: Gravitation and its characters belong to the goddess, Maki Murakami. Although a couple of the ideas were inspired by real articles of this nature, the article itself is entirely of my own invention.

lucymay_lj @ 2008-04-07T00:46:00

2008-04-07T04:56:02Z

I'm writing again...I hope I'm not jinxing myself by mentioning it.
Two small things I'm not sure yet if I'm pleased enough with to share (a brief dialouge b/t Yuki and Tohma that got away from me as I started a very different story, and a ConWolf KKM that wouldn't leave me alone), but at least I'm writing.

Oh, and the fourteenth chapter of ItD is finally being re-written. ^u^

Heaven has a most beautiful new angel today.

2008-03-26T20:31:25Z

My Audrey went to heaven today.
She's been sick for nearly a year now, and she fought bravely, and stayed with us for as long as she could. She was my best friend, and my family and I were very blessed to have her in our lives for at least a little while. She would have been five on May 4th, Audrey Hepburn's birthday.

lucymay_lj @ 2007-12-28T11:44:00

2007-12-28T16:49:07Z

My computer froze up from a virus and had to be completely reformatted to factory condition on Christmas Eve. Ouch.
I lost all my Sims2 mods, including hundreds of my own creations for the game, most of my manga scans, quite a few songs, the works.

The most tragic casualties were my stories. Two chapters of ItD, and my first KKM fic, which had reached over 10K words.
Well, I've learned my lesson about procrastinating in backing up my files on the other laptop. Brutally.

I've taken it pretty well though, considering. Oh well, back to the drawing board...

Yami fic

2007-11-06T00:28:28Z

Requested by dark_lady_69

Title: Three Takes on a Threesome (first scenario)
rating: NC-17
Summary: Three different and unrelated scenarios featuring Tsuzuki/Hijiri/Hisoka. For the first: Hisoka seeks Hijiri's advice on being more affectionate.
Warnings: A hair of OOC and superhuman prowness. ^o^

Hisoka drug his feet as he made his way to the infirmary. Watari had said that his partner was awake now, so why wasn’t he happy? He knew that in a matter of moments he would be greeted by an alert amethyst gaze that he had not seen in nearly a week, and it made the knot already formed in his stomach draw tighter.

Would that gaze be the usual one, full of patience and unconditional affection, or would it be the one wracked with guilt and sorrow? One never knew with Tsuzuki, and Hisoka felt ill prepared to deal with either. It had been so much easier to visit him when he was sleeping.

“Back again, Kurosaki?” Tatsumi asked with a serene smile as he reached the hallway to Tsuzuki’s room. “You’ve been here every day.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t have much to do with my irresponsible partner getting himself knocked out and all,” Hisoka said with a shrug.

“Be sure to give him a good scolding now that he’s up, then,” Tatsumi said with an amused gleam in his eye.

Hisoka grunted in reply, then took a deep breath before pushing the door to, feeling a little ridiculous with the box of candies he carried under his arm, now that Tsuzuki would be awake to see him deliver it.

He was surprised to find that Tsuzuki was not alone. Hijiri Minase stood close by his bedside, and Hisoka was sure that he saw them pull away from one another slightly as he walked into the room. Both of them seemed a bit breathless, and Tsuzuki looked as though he were fighting back laughter.

“I don’t know how you knew I was ticklish, you little scamp, but if I bust my stitches I’m telling Watari who’s responsible,” Tsuzuki said with a grin.

“Well, I had to get you smiling somehow, Mr. Grumpy,” Hijiri said, beaming, as he turned to Hisoka. “Look who’s here!”

“Are you alright, Hisoka? You look paler than I do,” Tsuzuki said with concern. Hisoka shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

“I’m fine, idiot. I just wanted to confirm you were conscious. I’ll leave you two alone,” Hisoka said. Tsuzuki looked at him with confusion.

“You don’t have to go, do you?” Tsuzuki asked. Hijiri dashed towards the door with a bright smile.

“I’m the one who should go. Tsuzuki wants to see you, and I bet you have loads of things to catch up on,” Hijiri said, gently pushing Hisoka towards the bed.

Hisoka slunked towards the bed uneasily, staring at his feet, and unceremoniously plopped in the bedside chair. This had not been his plan when he came here. Tsuzuki wasn’t supposed to be awake yet. At least not before Hisoka figured out the confusing feelings he’d been having lately.

“Brought you these,” Hisoka muttered, all but flinging the box of candy at Tsuzuki.

“I noticed someone had been bringing me sweets,” Tsuzuki said, eagerly opening the box, then pausing, staring at Hisoka with wonder. “It was you?”

“I didn’t bring all of them,” Hisoka said defensively. “I think Wakaba and Watari brought things, too.”

“Well, thanks for the ones you did bring then,” Tsuzuki said with an amused smile, before devouring the first chocolate like a starving man.

Hisoka shyly peered up at Tsuzuki’s face now that his attention was focused elsewhere, feeling his pulse race as he watched the older man lick his fingers.

He didn’t understand these new thoughts or their intensity, and it disturbed him. Sure, he had always begrudgingly admitted to himself that Tsuzuki was an unusually attractive man, but something had definitely changed in the way he looked at his partner. Tsuzuki had always teased him, in a manner that could almost be called flirting, and while it had angered him in the beginning of their partnership, he’d found that it bothered him in a very different way over time. It excited him, and he found it humiliating. After all Tsuzuki was only teasing, wasn’t he?

The turning point had truly come when he had disguised himself as Hijiri in order to see if Tsuzuki was being controlled by Sagatanasu, as he had suspected. Though the moment had quickly turned to one of painful, terrifying violence, Hisoka couldn’t stop thinking about the way it felt when Tsuzuki had caressed him so sensually, undressing him as he held him close.

I must be sick, Hisoka thought, it wasn’t even him, and he tried to kill me seconds later.

But that still had not stopped the dreams. Over and over, every night he dreamed of that embrace, and in his dreams it ended much differently. Hisoka would not be disguised, and Tsuzuki would be fully himself, telling Hisoka how badly he wanted him, exploring his body with his lips and fingers, until Hisoka woke panting and moaning in the night, only to find himself alone.

“Are you cold, Hisoka?” Tsuzuki said, bringing him back to the present. “You’re shivering.”

“No, I’m fine,” Hisoka said. Tsuzuki eyed him skeptically.

“You don’t look fine,” Tsuzuki said, leaning over and placing his hand to Hisoka’s forehead.

Hisoka recoiled as if the touch had burned him, Tsuzuki giving him a look of hurt. Their eyes met, and Hisoka shuddered at the intensity of the feelings he read there. Where he had expected to find sympathy, even pity, he saw longing.

“Tsuzuki,” Hisoka murmured. “I -- I’m sorry.”

“No,” Tsuzuki said, shaking his head and smiling, guarding his emotions once more. “I’m the one who should be sorry. I know you don’t like for me to touch you.”

“That’s not true!” Hisoka blurted out, his eyes widening and a blush staining his cheeks as the words left his mouth. He looked down awkwardly at his hands, which were trembling. “I do like it. Maybe too much.”

He glanced up to see that Tsuzuki was completely dumbfounded. Feeling overwhelmed with embarrassment and shame, he jumped from his seat, preparing to flee the room, when Tsuzuki caught his arm and held it firmly, forcing Hisoka to look at him.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Hisoka?” Tsuzuki asked quietly, pulling him closer. Hisoka looked away.

“Forget I said anything, okay?” Hisoka murmured, wrenching his arm free and leaving the room.

xxxx

Hijiri Minase answered the door to the room on the grounds of the Ministry where he’d been put up during his stay. He would be departing for his own world soon, but had refused to go before Tsuzuki was recovered.

“Hisoka?” Hijiri said with surprise, as he opened the door to find his blonde twin fidgeting uncertainly outside his door.

“Hey, Hijiri. Can I talk to you about something?” Hisoka asked.

“Sure, of course! Come in,” Hijiri said. “There’s really nowhere to sit but my bed. I hope that’s okay.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine,” Hisoka said, perching stiffly on the edge of the narrow twin bed as Hijiri pulled himself on it, sitting cross legged beside him.

“What did you need to talk about? Is it about Tsuzuki?” Hijiri asked. “He’s going to be alright isn’t he?”

“Yes, he’s fine. He still blames himself for everything, of course, the big idiot, but he’ll just have to learn to move on,” Hisoka said, finding Hijiri’s friendly, open demeanor putting him oddly at ease.

That was precisely what both irritated and drew him to the young violinist. It captivated Hisoka how freely this young man who looked so much like him expressed his emotions, like a mirror image of what Hisoka himself might have been like had he been able to reach Hijiri’s age without the tragedies that had befallen him. Hijiri was normal and happy, even after being orphaned and nearly losing his sight, and Hisoka could not help but feel a twitch of envy at his ability to be so unashamedly affectionate, especially when it came to Tsuzuki.

“So what’s this about then?” Hijiri asked.

“I’m not sure how to put this,” Hisoka said, grimacing.
“It’s okay, Hisoka. You can tell me anything. I promise,” Hijiri said, giving him a pat on the back. Hisoka looked at him in wonder.

“How do you do that?” Hisoka asked.

“Do what?” Hijiri asked, a confused smile on his face.

“Touch people without even thinking about it,” Hisoka said.

“I don’t know. That’s just how I am,” Hijiri said with a shrug.

“I -- I want to be able to do that,” Hisoka said, gazing at the carpet.

“With Tsuzuki?” Hijiri asked. Hisoka looked up with a startled expression.

“How did you know that?” Hisoka whispered. Hijiri laughed.

“I know a lot of things you don’t know. In fact, I’ll let you in on something. He loves you, too, Hisoka,” Hijiri said with a bittersweet smile. “You’re lucky. Tsuzuki’s really special.”

“I just wish it were that simple,” Hisoka said with a sigh. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

“Just go on up to him and give him a kiss. I bet he’ll like it,” Hijiri said teasingly, nudging Hisoka in the ribs. Hisoka’s eyes widened.

“I can’t do that!” Hisoka said in exasperation.

“Sure you can. Stop worrying so much, and just go with what you feel,” Hijiri said with a shrug.

“Go with what I feel? If I followed my instincts, I’d probably --” Hisoka frowned.

“Probably?” Hijiri asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I’d run away,” Hisoka said quietly, closing his eyes.

“Don’t you trust Tsuzuki?” Hijiri asked.

“Yes. He’s the only person I’ve ever trusted,” Hisoka said.

“Someone hurt you, didn’t they?” Hijiri asked, laying a hand on his arm. Hisoka nodded, and looked up surprise.

“You’re touching me,” Hisoka said, looking down at Hijiri’s hand. “It isn’t bothering me.” Hijiri smiled.

“Well, it’s a start,” Hijiri said.

“But it’s not like I’ve ever kissed anyone,” Hisoka said.

“Hey, me neither. How hard can it be?” Hijiri said with a shrug.

The two boys’ eyes met, looking at each other in silence for a long moment. Hijiri cautiously placed a hand to Hisoka’s face, caressing his cheek.

“Relax,” Hijiri said soothingly. “Close your eyes, and just listen to what your body tells you, not your mind.”

Hisoka shivered, and inclined his head towards Hijiri’s fingers, his long eyelashes fluttering and finally falling still, his eyes shut tight like he were bracing for something unpleasant. Hijiri smiled to himself at the reaction before placing his lips to Hisoka’s lightly.

He backed away to see Hisoka’s eyes flutter open, face flushed.

“See? That wasn’t so --” Hijiri started, cut off with a squeak, as Hisoka closed the distance once more.

Grim determination faded to curiosity, as Hisoka reveled in the soft warmth of Hijiri’s lips moving against his. He felt Hijiri’s arms close around him, encouraged by his consent, and allowed himself to be coaxed slowly back upon the bed.

Hisoka followed the younger man’s instruction, closing off his mind and giving into the sensations of sensory perception, of how it felt to have warm breath, and soft flesh in contact with his own, of Hijiri’s sweet, soapy scent, and the tantalizing rhythm of his breathing. And in this state of self induced trance, his mind was also laid bare to those sensations from Hijiri, whose heart raced and spine tingled at the feelings of pressing against him.

All mindfulness and caution successfully laid aside, Hisoka was surprised at how easy it was to let himself go to these new sensations, and just how badly he wanted them. It was with much less of a shock to the system than he would have ever imagined that he gave in to a much deeper kiss, Hijiri’s tongue exploring his mouth hungrily, as he crawled over him. And at that first delicious touch of heated friction as Hijiri’s thigh came between his, he was utterly lost to any pretense of control.

The boys groaned and thrust against one another frantically, Hijiri arcing his body up with a silent cry within moments. He sank against Hisoka, panting furiously, his hot breaths ticking Hisoka’s ear, before pulling up to look at him.

“Sorry,” Hijiri said breathlessly, with a sheepish grin. “That was pretty intense.” Hisoka couldn’t help but give a small smile of his own, feeling a surge of affection for his friend.

“Understatement,” Hisoka said, his head falling back against the bed with a sigh.

“You’re still --?” Hijiri asked apologetically, pulling himself off of Hisoka, who whimpered slightly at a careless brush against his groin.

“Yeah,” Hisoka grunted, shutting his eyes.

Hisoka nearly jumped off the bed with alarm, as he felt Hijiri’s hands working his fly.

“You don’t have to --” Hisoka cried, his voice a pitch too high.

“Shh, I want to,” Hijiri murmured, as his hand snaked it’s way into Hisoka’s briefs, peeling them away from his erection and gripping it firmly.

“It’s true that I never kissed anyone,” Hijiri said softly, sliding down the bed. “But, I -- I kind of fooled around with one of the other boys at the orphanage, once.”

Hisoka started to look up, but his head fell back immediately with a gasp at the first deft touch of Hijiri’s tongue along his shaft.

“Oh, God, oh,” Hisoka panted, as Hijiri took him between his lips, sucking gently.

Hisoka nearly blacked out from the extreme pleasure of heat and wetness surrounding him, trying to prevent his shallow thrusts from becoming too forceful. It was brief, but very effective, Hisoka crying out with relief, as Hijiri lifted his head.

“I -- I don’t know how to thank you,” Hisoka said, when the two boys had cleaned up, lying sated beside each other on the bed.

“My pleasure,” Hijiri murmured with a giggle, nuzzling into Hisoka’s side. “But, if you really mean it, there is one thing --”

xxxx

Tsuzuki sighed deeply, digging his hands into his pockets. He and Hisoka had parted on an awkward note, to say the least, and he wasn’t sure he should be there just now. But he longed to see him, his feet carrying him almost subconsciously to the young man’s door the minute he was well enough to leave the infirmary. Figuring he may as well check in on him while he was there, he had rung the bell, and was now concerned at how long it was taking him to answer.

Thinking himself well off the hook for the confrontation for now, he had nearly turned to go, when a somewhat disheveled and relaxed looking Hisoka answered the door. Tsuzuki blinked in scarce recognition of the usually well composed young man.

“I was wondering when you’d come by,” Hisoka said, smiling shyly as he let him in. “They told me you were being released today. How are you feeling?”

“I’m great,” Tsuzuki said, caught completely off-guard by the lack of the tension he had expected. He was further confused to find Hijiri Minase sitting on the couch with a beatific grin as he greeted him.

“Hello, Hijiri! What are you doing here?” Tsuzuki asked, sitting beside him.

“Oh, well, since I was staying until you were well, Hisoka and I have been getting to know each other better in the mean time,” Hijiri said, stifling a laugh with his fist.

Tsuzuki looked at each of the boys curiously, but they seemed unwilling to let him in on the joke just yet. Hisoka offered him a glass of wine, which he readily accepted.

“I didn’t think you drank, Hisoka,” Tsuzuki said, as Hisoka brought him his glass.

“I’ve been trying new things,” Hisoka said, sitting on the other side of him.

Tsuzuki felt awkward, sitting between the two similar looking boys. He had expected to find Hisoka alone, so that they could discuss what had happened the last time they’d met, and he was surprised at the seeming closeness the two younger men had seemed to develop while he was injured. It rather unnerved him.

After Tsuzuki had been plied with enough fine to feel a bit light headed, Hijiri excused himself to go to the restroom, at last leaving he and Hisoka alone.

They both turned to one another, addressing each other by name at the same time, and stopping, Tsuzuki laughing awkwardly, and Hisoka giving him the tiniest of smiles. After a brief silence, Tsuzuki was stunned when Hisoka leaned towards him slightly, placing a hand on his thigh.

“I’ve been thinking --,” Hisoka began, shaking his head. “No, I haven’t been thinking. You see, the thing is, back there, in the infirmary, I was saying exactly what you thought I was.”

“Um, what?” Tsuzuki asked, completely at a loss as to what Hisoka’s nervous rambling could mean. He wasn’t even sure he’d ever seen Hisoka nervous. What the hell was going on?

“Forget it,” Hisoka said with a sigh, leaning even further in and kissing him hard.

Tsuzuki’s eyes widened in shock, as Hisoka pulled back just far enough to gauge his reaction. Tsuzuki’s heart thrummed so hard he feared it might burst from his chest, as he slowly wound his arms around his partner, feeling his head swim at the unexpectedness of his deepest buried fantasy coming to life before him.

What had once seemed so unreachable, so far from his grasp that it was almost too painful to think of, was now so easy, was right here, in his arms.

“What I was trying to say is that I want you,” Hisoka murmured, climbing into his lap and claiming his lips once more.

Tsuzuki cautiously ran his hands along Hisoka’s back, and, feeling no resistance, moved them everywhere he could reach, down his long, soft arms, winding into his honey colored hair, and finally around that taut little rear he’d often admired, giving it a squeeze as Hisoka moaned into his mouth, thrusting against him. He had nearly lost himself in his excitement, before he remembered.

“Hijiri,” Tsuzuki reminded him, as he reluctantly parted his lips from Hisoka’s. Hisoka gave him a peculiar, slightly guilty smile, as he looked towards the hallway. Following his gaze, he saw that Hijiri had already come back and was watching them with a look of awe as he stood in the doorway.

Tsuzuki felt almost faint as Hisoka gave a little nod, and Hijiri crossed the room towards them. It was one thing that the beautiful young man he’d wanted so long was now giving him what he most desired, but they were both trying to seduce him?

Tsuzuki said a quick prayer of gratitude to anyone who happened to be listening, as Hijiri slid onto the couch beside them, and began nibbling on his ear as Hisoka resumed their kiss.

“What do you want, Tsuzuki? It’s all up to you,” Hijiri whispered in his ear, as Hisoka licked at his throat and began to unbutton his shirt. “We want you to have the best get well present possible.”

At this rate, they were bound to put him back in the infirmary, Tsuzuki thought, as he reached to pull Hijiri’s lips to his.

“So the two of you -- you planned this, did you?” Tsuzuki asked huskily, as his lips parted from Hijiri’s, and Hisoka began to tease his nipple with his teeth.

“Uh-huh. Good idea, huh?” Hijiri said with a giggle, pulling Tsuzuki’s jacket off of one arm.

Tsuzuki murmured in agreement, tugging Hisoka’s shirt up. Hisoka raised his arms, and allowed him to pull it over his head, Tsuzuki tasting the newly revealed flesh with fervor, placing hot kisses up Hisoka’s chest and bare neck. Hijiri pulled off his own, before going back to stripping Tsuzuki of his shirt and jacket, while Tsuzuki’s hands moved down to undo Hisoka’s jeans.

Tsuzuki raised Hisoka off his lap and coaxed him back onto the floor, pushing the coffee table back as they slid down onto the carpet, Tsuzuki raising up and pulling Hisoka’s pants and briefs off. Tsuzuki paused, drinking in the sight of Hisoka, flushed and naked before him, his lips swollen with kisses and eyes clouded with lust, before looking over at Hijiri, who was now naked himself and watching with anticipation, stroking himself slowly.

Hijiri nodded in consent at his momentary exclusion, and reached for his discarded jeans, fishing out a small tube of hand lotion he had doubtless procured from the restroom, handing it to Tsuzuki.

Sparing Hijiri and incredulous glance at his forethought, he turned his attentions back to Hisoka, who was watching the exchange with curiosity.

Hisoka sat up on his knees, helping Tsuzuki out of the rest of his clothing, as the older man ran his hands over his body eagerly. Tsuzuki gently turned him around and onto his hands, leaning over him and kissing his way down his spine, pulling his rear upwards slightly before parting his cheeks with one hand and finding his entrance. Tsuzuki teased the perimeter of the small ring of dark, puckered flesh with his tongue, causing Hisoka to gasp. He reached for the lotion, pressing open the cap and squeezing a generous amount into his palm, soon replacing his tongue with his fingers, gently stroking them over the sensitive ring of muscle before applying a miniscule bit of pressure. Hisoka hissed as the first finger pushed inside him.

“Are you okay?” Tsuzuki asked, leaning over him once more and kissing his temple. Hisoka nodded, as Tsuzuki slid his finger further inside, groaning with expectancy at the tight, silken flesh that gripped him.

“Just relax,” Tsuzuki said, rubbing soothing circles over the boy’s chest with his other hand, moving downward until he closed his fingers around Hisoka’s cock, causing the boy’s hips to buck slightly.

“Feels so good,” Hisoka whispered, thrusting into his hand as he tightened his grip. Tsuzuki worked in another finger, stretching Hisoka mindfully as he stroked him, increasing his pace and making Hisoka squirm and breath heavily.

Hisoka murmured incoherently as Tsuzuki’s fingers withdrew and his hand released him, Tsuzuki persuading him to turn over again and pushing him onto his back. Tsuzuki ran his hand beneath Hisoka’s knee and lifted his leg upward, trailing kisses down his inner thigh before licking at the base of his painfully erect cock, which lay against his navel, dripping with pre-come. Tsuzuki slowly, methodically ran his tongue over Hisoka’s balls, making the boy whimper impatiently, while his fingers once more went to work at his entrance.

“Please,” Hisoka begged, as Tsuzuki used his free hand to keep his pelvis still. Tsuzuki gave in to his plea, bringing his tongue back over Hisoka’s shaft and taking the head in his mouth. He savored the sweet tang of flesh as he moved his hand beneath the boy’s rear, allowing Hisoka to steadily push in, while he moved his fingers in and out of him.

Hisoka came, filling his mouth with a final upward movement, and falling limp. Tsuzuki crawled up his body, kissing him deeply and allowing him to taste himself on Tsuzuki’s tongue. Pushing Hisoka’s knee back, he placed himself at his partner’s entrance before giving him a questioning look. Hisoka nodded, too overwhelmed to speak, as Tsuzuki pushed inside him.

Tsuzuki moaned at the perfect, silken glide of his cock within Hisoka, who made a trembling, huffing sound beneath him. He stilled himself for a moment, pulling back slightly before he felt Hisoka’s legs wrap around him and pull him back. Looking deeply into the hooded, lustful green eyes of his lover and seeking his consent, he began to give shallow thrusts, Hisoka winding his arms around his neck and kissing him.

Pumping deeper within him, he saw Hisoka throw his head back, eyes wide, as he gave a cry of intense pleasure.

“There, there,” Hisoka chanted, meeting each thrust with an eager push of his own. “Oh, God. So good. Tsuzuki, there.”

Hisoka dug his nails into his shoulders, urging him to go faster, deeper, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment, his lips parted, and his legs gripping him tighter. Tsuzuki spared a glance towards Hijiri, who watched their every move, completely entranced. Hisoka rolled his head to the side, to look at him as well, and his sex twitched back to life against Tsuzuki’s stomach, clearly enjoying the idea of being watched.

Hijiri crawled towards them on his hands and knees, lying on his side beside Hisoka and kissing him tenderly. The sight pushed Tsuzuki over the edge, and he came with a guttural cry.

Hisoka’s legs slid from him, still spread wide, as he looked from Hijiri to Tsuzuki with a look pure bliss. Tsuzuki kissed him deeply, and sat back, as Hijiri gave him a heated look up and down his body.

“You’re going to have to give me moment,” Tsuzuki said, with an uneasy laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, where his hair stuck to his sweaty skin.

“Naturally,” Hijiri said with a grin, before rolling over and kissing Hisoka, who had become fully hard again.

After watching the two boys make-out at an unhurried, languid pace, touching each other until Hijiri had at last found release, Tsuzuki felt himself slowly getting turned on again. Still sticky from his own come, Hijiri moved down Hisoka’s body and began to suck him off, Hisoka responding quite vocally despite him exhaustion. Hijiri crouched on his knees, his bottom tantalizingly turned up towards Tsuzuki, who was now more than ready to take up the invitation.

Hijiri gave a little moan, deep in his throat, his head still bobbing over Hisoka, as Tsuzuki spread his cheeks and pushed a slick finger inside him. By the time Hijiri had swallowed Hisoka’s seed, as the blonde boy came for a second time, Tsuzuki had begun to carefully slide inside him.

Hisoka still lay sprawled and fully sated beneath Hijiri, as the darker haired boy braced himself on his hands, grunting with slight discomfort as Tsuzuki pushed fully inside. Hisoka scooted downwards, kissing Hijiri and helping him relax as he adjusted to the fullness inside him.

When Hijiri was ready, Tsuzuki began to move inside him, steadying himself on his knees and holding Hijiri’s hips.

“It’ll feel good really soon,” Tsuzuki heard Hisoka whisper, gazing down to find the blonde’s emerald eyes locked with his own. “Better than you ever dreamed.”

“Ah! Already does!” Hijiri screamed hoarsely as Tsuzuki pivoted his hips at an angle. Tsuzuki was mesmerized by Hisoka’s gaze, already stimulated to the breaking point at just the idea that he had taken both of these beautiful young men in one evening, and it had been their idea. He thrust erratically, Hijiri’s cries urging him on, until he reached the brink once more.

xxxx

Tsuzuki nuzzled against Hisoka on the young man’s bed, as Hijiri took a shower.

“God, that was incredible,” Tsuzuki said with a soft laugh, kissing Hisoka’s hair. “I feel like such a stud. I should get injured more often.”

“Baka,” Hisoka chided sleepily. “If you breathe a word of this to anyone, you know I’ll kill you, right?”

“But aren’t we going to do it again?” Tsuzuki whimpered. “You know, after Hijiri goes home, and we’re alone together?”

“Of course we will,” Hisoka said, rolling to face him. “But from now on it’s just you and I, okay?”

“You’re more than enough for me,” Tsuzuki said, kissing him on the nose. “Besides, if I tried to so something like that again, you wouldn’t have to kill me.”

“Good,” Hisoka murmured, his eyelashes fluttering.

Hijiri returned from his shower to find the two lovers already asleep, twined together tightly, and smiled.

“Good night, guys. And thank you,” Hijiri whispered, closing the door behind him and going to sleep on the couch, not wanting to disturb them.

Gravi Fic

2007-10-30T17:50:56Z

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYBODY!

Title: Sex Tape Scandal
Fandom: Gravitation
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Eiri/Shu
Summary: When Shuichi's and Eiri's private sex tape gets leaked to the public, Bad Luck tries to keep it from becoming a PR disaster. Can be read as a sequel to "Fan Service", or as a stand-alone.

“So what do you think, Yuki?” Shindou Shuichi asked, coming to the end of his usual breathless, mostly one-sided chatter with Yuki through the open bathroom door as he got ready to go to the studio. “Um, Yuki?”

The deathly silence from the front room was suddenly broken by the sound of disrupted objects rattling around, which caused the singer to walk out in curiosity.

He was greeted with the strange sight of Yuki Eiri crouched on the floor before the television, rifling urgently through the DVDs and video tapes in the low cabinet beside it, his cigarette dangling dangerously from his mouth and his beer overturned on the floor.

“What are you looking for, Yuki?” Shuichi asked.

“The video! Where in the hell is it?” Yuki demanded.

“What video?” Shuichi asked blankly as his stomach suddenly plummeted from the headline splashed across the TV screen.

Yuki and Shuichi: Sex Tape Scandal!

“Oh, crap,” Shuichi said, his knees buckling as he sank onto the couch.

OoOoO

“Yuki, what are you doing?” Shindou Shuichi asks, peering up at the camera with a look of surprise, from where he is turning on the tap of a large bathtub. He stands, barefoot on the black tile of the white walled bathroom, waiting for a reply, with a look somewhere between amusement and unease.

“Just act like I’m not here, idiot,” the voice of Yuki Eiri is heard to say off screen.

“But I’m taking a bath!” Shuichi protests, waving his arms. His statement is greeted with silence, the only sound the rushing water echoing through the room.

“Why do you want to film me taking a bath, Yuki?” Shuichi asks timidly, looking at his feet and squirming self consciously.

The scene cuts to Shuichi nervously pulling his thin cotton tee shirt over his head, gazing from the corner of his eyes at the camera every so often. His mop of pink hair has grown limp from the growing billows of steam rising from the nearly full tub, and he gazes up through damp forelocks with one last silent plea that goes unanswered.

Taking a deep breath, he undoes the fly of his jeans quickly, as if to strip and be underwater as soon as possible. He glances up, as if at some unheard word from behind the camera, and flushes slightly, slowing his pace to a teasing, leisurely unveiling of the rest of his well toned body.

“Oh, for -- will you guys please not watch that?” Shuichi cried frantically as he entered the room, nearly diving across the table in an attempt to wrest the remote control from K’s hands. K smirked, holding the device just out of the pop star’s reach before stopping the video himself.

“Glad to see you finally decided to join us,” K said, still dangling the remote tantalizingly overhead.

“It’s a miracle I could get here at all! Tohma had to arrange for a distraction so that I could sneak past the press in disguise,” Shuichi said, slumping into the chair between Hiro and a highly distraught Sakano.

“What kind of distraction?” Hiro asked, quirking one eyebrow. “It would take nothing short of world war three to throw them off this story.”

“That’s because he had a decoy,” a weary voice answered from the doorway, where Suguru ambled in, limping slightly, and pulling a pink wig from his head. The schoolgirl uniform he wore had seen better days, the blue sailor collar ripped at the seams, and one loose sock drooping pitifully about his ankle. Shuichi eyed him incredulously.

“It’s bad enough that I’m in the middle of an embarrassing sex scandal -- did you have to make me look like a cross-dresser, too? Who gave you the idea to wear that while pretending to be me?” Shuichi moaned. Suguru held his head high and sniffed indignantly.

“I got this from your closet,” Suguru answered. The color drained from Shuichi’s face as he giggled nervously.

“Oh, um, you did?” Shuichi asked in small voice, as the others turned to look at him questioningly, then added defensively, “I’ve got other things in there, you know!”

“I was in a hurry, you ingrate,” Suguru said, throwing the wig from him and settling in the chair on the other side of Hiro. “In case you haven’t noticed, I nearly got my limbs ripped off in your stead.”

“The schoolgirl look kind of suits you, Suguru,” Hiro said with a grin, causing the younger boy to bristle slightly and blush.

“Well, now that we’re all here,” K said, aiming the remote back at the television.

“Now just hold on a minute!” Shuichi screamed, leaping between K and the screen. “There’s no reason for us to watch that!”

“I just wanted to give us a complete picture of the kind of bad publicity we’re up against,” K said with a shrug.

“I don’t think I want a picture of Shindou that’s that complete,” Suguru said with a shudder.

“This is all my fault,” Sakano wailed, blowing his nose on his hanky.

“How’s it your fault, Sakano?” K said, giving him a firm slap on the back and then pausing with consideration. “You weren’t the camera man, were you?”

“I thought Yuki-san was the camera man?” Hiro asked.

“Oh, no, the rest of the video is much better,” K said with a smile. “Yuki gets in on the action in the next scene.”

“Ah, no wonder Tohma’s getting involved,” Hiro said, turning to Shuichi. “So how’s Yuki-san taking all of this?”

Shuichi wasn’t listening, the cogwheels in his head apparently at full spin.

“K, I thought you said there was no such thing as bad publicity,” Shuichi said, jumping from his seat giving him an accusing glare. “It was you who stole the video, wasn’t it?”

K effortlessly brushed away Shuichi’s small fists batting at his chest and laughed.

“Calm down, Shuichi. If it were me I would have released it for profit, not given it to the press,” K said, shaking Shuichi from his arm nonchalantly as the singer tried to bite him.

“It’s not K’s fault,” Hiro said with a shrug.

“Who’s side are you on?” Shuichi demanded furiously, turning towards him. “You’re supposed to take up for me!”

“Well, you’ve got to admit, it is pretty idiotic of you guys to have something like that lying around. I would have thought Yuki-san at least would have more sense,” Hiro said, reclining back in his chair.

“Don’t blame it on Yuki! The reason he wanted to make that video is actually really sweet. It was right before we went on tour and he wanted something to remind him of me while I was gone,” Shuichi said dreamily.

“Yuki Eiri -- the same Yuki Eiri you live with -- told you that?” Hiro said, eyebrow arched suspiciously.

“Of course he didn’t tell me that,” Shuichi said, rolling his eyes. “He just said to stop whining and get naked or he’d cram the camcorder down my throat. It’s the things that he doesn’t say that mean something.”

“You and Yuki-san sure do have a complicated relationship,” Suguru said, shaking his head. “So if it wasn’t K who leaked the video, then who was it?”

“I don’t see that it really matters. The real question is how we’re going to handle the press,” Hiro said.

“Let’s see,” Shuichi said, again not listening, his eyes rolled upwards and a finger to his lips. “Who would be in our living room, watching our videos -- I’ve got it!”

Shuichi jumped up from his seat with a murderous gleam in his eye, heading for the door as Hiro casually gripped him by the shirt tail, making him run in place.

“Do you think we should cancel our spot on Top Hits in two weeks?” Hiro asked.

“Absolutely not. Do you know how hard it is to get a spot like that?” K asked. “And besides, it would make all of Sakano’s sacrifices in vain.” Sakano gave a muffled, sniffly moan, burying his face in his handkerchief.

“What exactly did you do, Sakano-san?” Suguru asked, giving the producer a sympathetic pat on the back.

“We probably don’t want to know,” Hiro mused. “Is there an interview after our set?”

“No. But don’t think that will stop them from making time for one. We need to think of way to throw them off,” K said, rubbing his thumb beneath his chin in concentration. “Man, why can’t either of you two ever do something really stupid instead? Aren’t one of you ready for a respectable re-hab stint or something?”

“K! What good would that do?” Sakano asked, pulling on his hair.

“We need a scandal we can work into a positive light, with a dramatic struggle that people will sympathize with -- I’ve got it! We’ll send Shindou to a therapist!” K said, slamming his fist down on the table.

“While I won’t disagree that Shuichi might be due for psychological treatment, how exactly is this supposed to relate to the sex tape thing?” Hiro asked, still restraining a squirming Shuichi.

“We could say that he was compelled to make the tape as a desperate cry for help for his, um --” K trailed off, scratching his head.

“Pervyness?” Suguru chimed in, looking at his current attire with disgust.

“Hey!” Shuichi yelled indignantly, stopping his struggle.

“I’m not sure that’s an official disorder, Suguru,” Hiro said. “We could always say he was a nymphomaniac.”

“But that means I’d do it with anyone! I‘d never cheat on Yuki!” Shuichi cried, clawing at Hiro with all the intimidation of a grumpy kitten.

“I believe the politically correct term is a ‘sex addict’,” K said, not a little stiffly, getting a curious look from the others. “What? My wife’s a movie star! I hear about things!”

“Right,” Hiro said, not entirely taking his cautious gaze off the gun-toting American. “So, he’s an exhibitionist, then?”

Shuichi ripped the now well-stretched hem of his tee shirt from Hiro’s grasp, and shook his fist.

“Just wait one freaking minute here! I’m not a sex-addict, or an exhibitionist, or any of that stuff! I just did it because Yuki wanted me to, and he scares me when he’s mad, and I don’t want him to leave me, and --” Shuichi rambled breathlessly, his eyes welling with tears.

“Co-dependency!” Sakano contributed at last, pointing at Shuichi with triumph, as if he’d just solved a puzzle in charades.

“Yeah, so, what else do you have?” Hiro asked K boredly, while Sakano was meekly apologizing to Shuichi, who, despite the fact that the conversation was over, was beginning to brood and wonder if he did have some sort of problem after all.

“Ah, screw it, we’ll just let Tohma come up with something. It’s almost lunch time,” K said with a shrug.

OoOoO

“Yuki, do you think maybe I have some sort of -- I don’t know -- psychological disorder?” Shuichi asked, standing behind Eiri’s chair as he typed on his laptop.

“Yeah, moron. Now go away,” Eiri said irritably, cursing under his breath as he used the backspace to correct an awkward phrase. A phrase made awkward by his subconsciously renaming one of the characters “Shuichi”. He’d have to do a word search to make sure he hadn’t done that more than once…

“Yuki! I’m serious!” Shuichi demanded.

Eiri sighed, and turned, very slowly, in his chair with a look that conveyed a considered homicide.

“Look, brat. If you’re really concerned about your mental health then you couldn’t possibly be asking a worse person. I have two days to turn in this manuscript, so find someone else to annoy,” Eiri said.

“Okay, Yuki. Sorry,” Shuichi said in small voice, backing away, head hung.

Before he reached the door, he heard his lover give a heavy sigh.

“Go get me a beer,” Yuki said.

“Sure! Of course,” Shuichi said, rushing to the kitchen with a little skip.

OoOoO

“So Yuki said I wasn’t any more of a neurotic nut-case than anyone else he’d met outside of an institution. Not exactly the most reassuring way he could have worded it, I suppose --,” Shuichi said, growing quiet for a second. “But hey! You know how Yuki is,” he finished with a awkward giggle. “Oh yeah, what was I here for again?”

“Hell if I know. You tell me,” Tatsuha said, lowering his binoculars and wondering just how Shuichi had known of his annual vigil outside of Sakuma Ryuichi’s house on the vocalist’s birthday.

“Wait a second, now I remember! You stole that tape that Yuki and I made, didn’t you, you bastard?” Shuichi wailed, shaking Tatsuha by the shoulders.

“What tape?” Tatsuha said, after the dizziness subsided. Shuichi gaped.

“The one of Yuki and I having sex! Which one did you think I meant?” Shuichi demanded.

“There’s a tape of you and Yuki getting it on?” Tatsuha asked with a strange gleam in his eye. “Can I watch it?”

“Well, yeah, it’s on the internet -- wait a second! You mean you had no idea?” Shuichi asked incredulously. Tatsuha shook his head.

“Man, I’ve been camped out here for two days, and Ryuichi hasn‘t gotten naked in front of the window once. I wonder what else I’ve missed?” Tatsuha said, scrambling down the tree where he and Shuichi were currently perched. “Anyway, thanks for the tip!”

Shuichi stared after Tatsuha in mild shock, trying not to ponder too closely his eagerness to see the video, and picking up the item he’d left behind.

“You left your binoculars,” Shuichi called weakly to the rapidly moving figure fading in the distance.

Shuichi sighed, wondering where to investigate next, as he caught movement from the curtains in Ryuichi’s window. Looking from side to side, like he expected someone to spot him in the tree, he giggled and lifted the glasses to his eyes.

“Oh, well, just a peek won‘t hurt,” he assured himself. “It would be kind of funny if Sakuma-san did get naked now, after Tatsuha left. Not that I would, like, want that to happen or anything. No siree.”

Wiping absently at his nose-bleed, and leaning forward so far that he almost fell off the branch, Shuichi focused the lenses on the window.

Ryuichi danced around the room, clutching Kumagoro in one arm and a small bag in the other. Placing the rabbit on his head, he talked animatedly, while opening his package, pulling out what appeared to be a video tape. He merrily plopped down on the sofa with his back to the window after sliding the tape into the player, and aimed the remote at the television. Shuichi didn’t have to watch the screen for long to recognize the program.

“No! Not Sakuma-san!” Shuichi moaned, losing his grip, and tumbling to the ground.

“Ow! Damn it all,” Shuichi grumbled, rising to his feet, and brushing off his shirt. Gathering his composure, he marched up to the door to push the doorbell, only to find the absent-minded vocalist had left it ajar. He pushed it aside at went to the living room.

“Sakuma-san, where did you -- Sakuma-san?” Shuichi asked, gazing down where the vocalist had slid off the couch onto the floor, and waving a hand before his slack-jawed face.

“Shuichi?” Ryuichi asked, his bottom lip trembling. “Why are you and Yuki-san doing super naughty things on my television?”

Shuichi squeaked, having forgotten the tape was still playing, and quickly ejected it. It was definitely not the original. He would recognize the Hello Kitty video labels he’d bought especially anywhere, even if it hadn’t been clearly labeled Shu and Yuki in glitter markers. This tape was rather plain.

“Why do you have this, Sakuma-san?” Shuichi asked.

“Tohma was supposed to be taping my shows for me while I was away,” Ryuichi said, still looking rather dazed. “But those aren’t my shows!”

Shuichi frowned, plopping down on the floor beside his idol.

“Figures that Seguchi would have a copy, the perv. Oh, well, it’s nothing the rest of Japan hasn’t seen by now,” Shuichi said with a sigh.

“So, the tape got leaked to everyone?” Ryuichi asked, in a way that would seem almost uncharacteristically pensive if he weren’t still covering the eyes of his plush bunny. Shuichi nodded.

“Um -- well, Tohma probably needs the tape then, so he‘ll see what other people saw. It’s not easy to get people to start being nice again when they start saying bad things,” Ryuichi said.

“I guess you’re right,” Shuichi said, “This has been kind of a disaster. It’s been really crazy even trying to get in and out of the house since this started.”

“So what are you doing here?” Ryuichi asked, head cocked to the side.

“Well, I was out trying to find out who could’ve gotten a hold of the tape. I mean, it was in our living room!” Shuichi said, throwing his hands in the air.

“Oh,” Ryuichi said, scratching his head. “So that’s your priority right now?”

“What do you mean?” Shuichi asked him.

“Well,” Ryuichi said slowly, chewing thoughtfully on Kumagoro’s ear for a moment before continuing, “It’s the PR thing that really matters right now, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Shuichi said with a frown. “What would you do Sakuma-san?”

OoOoO

“Forget it,” Eiri said, brushing past Shuichi into the kitchen.

“But Yuki, I haven‘t even come up with anything yet! Sakuma-san said that we planted one image into the minds of the public, and the best way to get around it is to either place a new one in their minds or to laugh it off,” Shuichi said.

“You have no idea what that means, do you?” Eiri asked, opening the refrigerator.

“Well, no, not exactly. I mean, he didn’t give any specific instructions, but --” Shuichi began, cutting off with a startled squeak as Eiri slammed the door closed after grabbing his beer.

“It means, moron, that I have to be involved somehow,” Eiri said, glaring at the pop singer as he shouldered his way back towards the living room.

“But it effects your publicity, too!” Shuichi pleaded, clinging futilely to Eiri’s shirttail.

“So? My books didn’t stop selling when they knew I was screwing you, so why would they stop just because they’ve seen me do it now?” Eiri asked, his gait in no way hindered by the fact that he was now dragging a sobbing Shuichi along behind him.

“Don’t you see the difference? It’s one thing to imagine it, but now it’s like we’re porn stars or something! People actually have pictures in their heads of us doing it! Naked!” Shuichi cried, his socks sliding along the hardwood floor.

“So? Afraid they’re going to make fun of your little bean?” Eiri said, grabbing Shuichi by the collar and shaking him free before sitting on the sofa.

“That’s not the point! School girls read your books, and they buy my records. What if their parents won’t let them now?” Shuichi asked. Eiri looked up at him, brow raised.

“Who says school girls are my demographic?” Eiri asked icily.

“Did I strike a nerve, Yuki?” Shuichi asked sheepishly, bracing for a blow.

“Why don’t you go play Russian roulette with a semi-automatic or something? I’m trying to relax,” Eiri said dismissively, fishing the remote from between the cushions and flicking on the television.

Shuichi sighed with defeat, and went to the linen closet to make his bed on the couch for the night without another word.

OoOoO

“You know, that actually makes sense,” Hiro said, leaning back in his chair in the staff meeting room, while Bad Luck awaited the arrival of their manager and producer. “Well, I guess even the great Sakuma Ryuichi has had to field a few scandals in his career, so he should know.”

“So, anyone have any ideas that don’t involve Yuki in any way?” Shuichi asked meekly, greeted by a span of silence.

“Yuki-san won‘t get involved, huh?” Hiro asked.

“Don’t blame Yuki! He’s busy,” Shuichi said dejectedly, muttering something about the couch being lumpy before burying his face in his folded arms on the table.

“Hmm. So there goes the idea for an endearing Barbara Walters style interview as a couple. Although I doubt even she could make Yuki-san cry,” Hiro said with a wry smile. “Shuichi on the other hand --”

“I’m not crying!” Shuichi blurted out, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “Haven’t you ever heard of allergies?”

“So, anyway,” Suguru said, looking at Shuichi with a mixture of wonder and repulsion, “Sakuma-san said something about making a joke of it? You know, like a parody of some kind to show we’re not afraid to laugh at ourselves a bit?”

“Of all people, I’d imagined you to be the last to point out that option,” Hiro said with amusement, poking the serious and reserved teen in the shoulder. Suguru sighed and gave him a withering look.

“I’m just trying to toss around ideas for us to work with,” Suguru said, sitting up stiffly and crossing his arms, adding quietly, “Jackass.”

Hiro smiled broadly before busting out into laughter, as K and Sakano entered the room.

“All right kids, enough joking around. It’s time to prepare for combat!” K announced, pushing his sunglasses up with a gleam and waving his gun in the air.

“Are we shooting the press or ourselves, then?” Hiro asked, tearing his eyes away casually from Suguru and smiling politely.

“Those are merely last resort options,” K said distractedly, holstering his gun and approaching the dry erase board. He had the pen uncapped and ready, before seeming to realize he had nothing to write, whirling around towards the others with a confident grin.

“So, why don’t we hear your ideas first, you know, make this nice and democratic,” K said.

“You haven’t got squat, have you?” Suguru asked, rolling his eyes. “What have you been doing all this time, anyway?”

“Suguru was just saying something about making a parody of the incident somehow,” Hiro interjected after clearing his throat.

“Yeah?” K said, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “That could work.”

“So, got any ideas?” Hiro prompted, looking around the room, which fell silent. Shuichi raised his head, sniffling slightly.

“Hey, guys? Why don’t we make a video?” Shuichi asked, breaking the silence. His eyes lit up as he sat up straighter and gained momentum. “We were planning on making a promo film for our new single next month anyway, right? So why don’t we move it up a bit?”

There was a murmur in the room, everyone stirred at Shuichi’s newfound enthusiasm.

“Not, bad, Shuichi. And even the new song, “Double Exposure”, seems to lend a kind of tongue and cheek thing to it, don’t you think?” Hiro asked, giving the singer a pat on the back.

“We will have it ready to premier on Top Hits in one week,” K said with finality, slamming his fist on the table. “I’m going straight to Seguchi to work out our budget.”

“One week?” Shuichi cried in disbelief, amid collective groans from the others.

“K-san, sir, are you sure we can pull off such a thing in so little time?” Sakano asked, wiping his brow. “And demanding money from our beloved president --”

“One week,” K said firmly. “It is destiny. It is fate. It is --”

“What the hell is talking about?” Hiro asked.

“It is the very week that Thelonious Smith just happens to be in Tokyo doing an advertisement!” K said with triumph, striding towards the door and slamming it behind him.

“Did he just say what I thought he said?” Suguru finally said in the stunned silence K had left in his wake.

“Heh, heh. Guys? Um, maybe it won’t be as bad this time?” Shuichi asked timidly as his band mates turned to glare at him.

OoOoO

“Thelonious Smith,” Suguru said, shaking his head as the three musicians made their way to a waiting car outside of the NG building.

The infamous American director had flown to Japan to direct a video for Bad Luck’s last album that had turned out to be a small disaster nearly a year before, and none of the trio were particularly thrilled at the prospect of working with him again.

“Well, if you think about it, considering the kind of video we’re out to make this time, he might just be the ideal one for the job,” Hiro said with a shrug.

“Just what kind of video are we making?” Shuichi asked, his eyes growing wide.

“Don’t be coy, Shuichi. After all, this was your idea,” Hiro said with a wink.

“But Hiro!” Shuichi cried, as they stepped outside onto the sidewalk.

“I absolutely can not tell you guys how excited I am to be working on this,” said a brightly smiling man with slicked back blonde hair, extending his hand. “Love the new song, love the whole parody thing -- man, this is just going to be a blast.”

The three band mates smiled weakly as Thelonious led them to the car, chatting amiably.

“I brought my own crew for the ad, so we’re all set up at the studio your boss rented for us. We all sat around and watched the video, bounced around some ideas, set up a sketch board -- hey! How do you guys feel about a little product placement? Because the soda company I’m out here shooting for made an offer, and your manager was very psyched about it,” Thelonious droned on, to the occasional polite smile from Hiro, quivering lip-biting from Shuichi and haughty glare from Suguru.

Thelonious’ cell phone rang when they were on the road, to the band’s relief.

“Sorry, guys, I’ve got to take this,” Thelonious said, and began talking rapidly in English, gesturing broadly with his hands as he spoke.

“Why do I feel like we’re in over our heads already?” Hiro asked, fiddling absently with the automatic door lock.

“I’m sorry guys. This is my fault,” Shuichi said, hanging his head.

“It’s all right, Shuichi. It wasn’t a bad idea. And K is right that having it ready for Top Hits is perfect timing,” Hiro said, ruffling Shuichi’s hair.

“Really?” Shuichi asked, looking up eagerly.

“Sure thing,” Hiro said with a warm smile. “Besides, it’s you that Thelonious will force to do weird stuff. Suguru and I will hardly be in it, I’ll bet.”

“Right,” Shuichi said with a nervous laugh.

“So how did Yuki-san take the news that you were working with his favorite video director again?” Hiro asked sarcastically.

“Um, well, he was writing when I came in, so he just told me to shut up and go play quietly somewhere else. I’m not sure whether he was listening or not, since I’d probably gotten the same response either way,” Shuichi said with a shrug.

When they reached their destination, Thelonious pulled Shuichi back as they walked towards the studio.

“Incidentally, Shuichi, that film you guys shot,” Thelonious paused dramatically. “Well, I don’t know how to say this, but it was amateur. I mean some of the angles were great, but the lighting and sound could have been better, you know? If you ever want to shoot something else, just let me know, okay?”

Shuichi just stared at him in disbelief, his mouth hanging open, and his face turning red.

“Oh, I know, it’s not every day a professional offers to take on personal projects,” Thelonious said with a toothy smile. “Just look on it as a personal favor for a friend.”

Shuichi merely nodded, still too stunned to coherently respond, and followed the others into the building.

“Now we’ve only had two days to get everything ready and build the sets, but I think we’ve done pretty well, if I do say so myself,’ Thelonious said, as he opened the door.

Shuichi was caught in stunned silence once again, as he took in the two separately constructed sets within the large indoor studio lot.

“But -- but -- this looks just like our apartment!” Shuichi cried in bewilderment, looking back and forth between one set that was a re-construction of the bathroom and another that mirrored the bedroom.

“You really think so?” Thelonious asked, clearly pleased. “I mean, Mr. Yuki does have impeccable decorating sense, and we are on a budget, but --”

“Um, Thelonious? Why did you recreate our apartment?” Shuichi asked.

“Well, as these are the two rooms featured in your film, I figured it would only make sense to use them in the reenactment,” Thelonious explained patiently, as if to a child.

“Reenactment?” Shuichi demanded shrilly, going weak in the knees and grabbing a chair for support.

“Why of course. We’re going to parody the film in your video, after all,” Thelonious said, turning at the approach of a tall, blonde figure from the darkened corner of the room.

Shuichi’s head shot up and his eyes widened, sparkling brightly as he followed Thelonious’ gaze.

“Yuki?” Shuichi asked in hopeful confusion, flying across the room towards the approaching figure and winding his arms around him tightly. “Yuki! What are you doing here?”

“Um, I take it you’re Shuichi Shindou?” asked a voice above his head, somewhat uneasily.

Shuichi stiffened, and slowly looked up towards the unfamiliar face of the man he was embracing, who had just stepped into the light.

“Meet Iason. He’s your co-star,” Thelonious said.

After a brief treatment with smelling salts and a glass of water, Shuichi grumpily sat in a folding chair near the set, looking over a copy of the video shoot outline.

“So what do you think? First we will recreate your now famous striptease by the tub, tastefully cutting away at the right moment, while you sing the opening lines to the camera. Iason will stand by with a fake camcorder during this scene, and we’ll shoot part of this with a handheld to make it seem as if we’re seeing you from his point of view. We’ll shoot some footage later on of you singing with the band to edit in for between shots, with a little choreography that I’m sure you’ll have no trouble with.

For the bedroom scene, we’ll have you and Iason in towels, of course, just a little make-out scene with a heavily implied fade to black. Nothing too racy, but defiantly an homage to your little scandal to show that you’re not afraid to face the music,” Thelonious said with a wink.

“You realize,” Shuichi said with a smug expression, “that nearly everything written here is on the list.”

“Ah, yes, the list,” Thelonious said with a smirk.

During the last video shoot Bad Luck had made with the director, Yuki Eiri had made a more or less all inclusive list of sexually suggestive things that he did not want Shuichi to do in the video, given Thelonious’ reputation for controversy, after persuading Tohma that the first version of the video be scrapped.

“But you see, the wording in that document clearly states that it pertained to our last video, not this one,” Thelonious said, betraying a slightly sinister gleam in his eye before brightening. “So! Now that we have all that cleared up, let’s make a great video, okay? See you when you get back from make-up.”

OoOoO

“Um, Yuki?” Shuichi asked tentatively at the door to Eiri’s office, studying his shoes as he stood in the doorway.

Eiri ignored him for a moment, finishing the paragraph he was working on, and looked up curiously, fully unprepared for the unobtrusive demeanor his young lover had taken. Shuichi would normally have demanded his attention by now.

“What the hell’s bothering you, moron?” Eiri asked at last, shoving back from his desk with a sigh. Having all the invitation he needed, Shuichi bounded across the room, forgoing even the small chair he usually occupied during these interruptions, and diving straight into Eiri’s lap.

“Don’t be mad, Yuki! I had to do what they said! K shot at me twice as it was!” Shuichi bawled.

Yuki sat stiffly, starting to give the sniffling singer an awkward pat on the back, before instead smacking him atop the head.
“Ow, Yuki!” Shuichi cried, looking up. “Does this mean you’re mad?” he added in a tiny voice.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Eiri asked.

Shuichi pulled the scene treatment out of his back pocket and thrust it at Eiri, head bowed. Eiri took the crumpled papers, shoving Shuichi from his lap and pulling his chair back to his desk. Shuichi looked up at him expectantly from the floor.

“Why is my name on here? I told you I wasn’t getting involved,” Eiri said, his eyebrow raised as he flipped through the pages.

“Oh, that’s the stuff Iason is doing. He’s playing you,” Shuichi said. Eiri’s eyes widened slightly.

“So you and this Iason guy played tonsil hockey in bed all day while this Thelonious jerk filmed it, is that what you’re telling me?” Yuki said, glancing up and placing a cigarette between his lips.

“Hmm? Oh, no. That scene’s tomorrow,” Shuichi said, hugging his knees to his chest.

Yuki grunted in response, lighting the filter end before noticing his mistake and cursing.

“So, um, are you going to call Tohma, like last time?” Shuichi asked. Yuki gave him an impassive look, laying the script aside and reaching for a fresh cigarette.

“You said this was your idea?” Eiri asked.

“Um, well, yeah, it’s meant to be a parody of our video. Sakuma-san said that about making light of it to show the public that it isn’t that big of deal, remember?” Shuichi asked. Eiri nodded.

“Right. Well, you’ve annoyed me enough and your time is up. I have a deadline,” Eiri muttered, turning back to his computer.

“You mean --” Shuichi started, confused.

“I said get out,” Eiri snapped.

OoOoO

“Hiro, I don’t know what to do,” Shuichi moaned, leaning heavily on his best friend’s shoulder as they sped along to the film studio the next day. “He didn’t get mad exactly, but he kicked me out of his office, didn’t come to bed until I was asleep, and he wasn’t up this morning when I left.”

“But Yuki-san knows what’s in the video, right?” Hiro asked.

“Yeah, but he didn’t seem all that interested,” Shuichi said with a pout.

“You wanted him to get jealous didn’t you?” Hiro asked, poking him in the ribs.

“No!” Shuichi squeaked indignantly. “I mean, yes. I mean, I don’t know. I just know that something doesn’t feel right about this.”

“Well, it is kind of turnaround from last time,” Hiro said thoughtfully as the car pulled up to the curb.

“Hey, cutie. You ready for our big scene?” Iason said with a wink, as they walked to the set. The tall blonde played up his impersonation, looking cool and nonchalant as he took a puff from his cigarette.

“Um, yeah, sure,” Shuichi stammered, and gave a little giggle before following Hiro towards the make-up artist.

“It is kind of unnerving how he looks like Yuki-san at a glance,” Hiro said with a smirk. The Eiri wannabe suddenly hunched over and coughed from the smoke he was not used to inhaling. “Then again, maybe not,” Hiro added.

“Hey, Shuichi! The shots we got yesterday were fantastic,” Thelonious said, crossing the room towards them. “You and Iason have great chemistry. Today’s shoot will be super hot!”

“Yeah, thanks,” Shuichi said glumly, sitting before the make-up table and staring at his reflection.

“Cheer up, sugar. It can’t be that bad,” said the makeup artist, as she draped a cloth around him and pinned it behind his neck. “Now hold still.”

Shuichi tried not to squirm too much as the lady applied what felt like layers of goop to his face, and began to add liner to one of his eyelids. She had just finished one eye, and had gone to the other side to do the other one, when Shuichi heard a murmur of voices from the set.

“Close your eye, sweetheart,” she said, as Shuichi gently pushed her hand away and swiveled around in his chair to see what the commotion was about.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! They didn’t tell me he would be here!” the make-up artist cried, craning her neck and catching sight off someone out of Shuichi’s view. “I’ve got to get his autograph!”

Shuichi’s heart sped up as he watched the woman run towards the set, and followed her, wondering if it could possibly be who he hoped it was.

“Shuichi? Come quick!” a clearly frightened Sakuma Ryuichi cried, backing away into a corner as he caught sight of Thelonious Smith, the director who had subjected him to a particularly embarrassing video shoot of his own during his solo career in America.

“Calm down, Sakuma-san. It’s okay,” Hiro was telling him soothingly, as Shuichi reached his side.

“I was going to wish you luck and see if I could watch you shoot your new video,” Ryuichi said, trembling. “But I didn’t know the scary, dirty boy was making it!”

“Don’t worry, Sakuma-san. I promise that if you still want to stay, I’ll make sure Thelonious doesn’t bother you,” Shuichi said, looking around, and, spotting Suguru, grabbing the reluctant teen and thrusting him at the panicked pop singer. “Here! Suguru will stay with you! Right?”

“Um, sure, whatever. I kind of want Thelonious to stay away from me, too, anyway,” Suguru said.

Ryuichi looked uncertainly at his tiny assigned bodyguard for a minute before smiling.

“Okay, then! Thanks guys,” Ryuichi said happily, pulling a very reluctant Suguru into a bear hug, before looking at Shuichi and laughing. “You’re all lopsided, Shu-chan!”

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Shuichi said with a grin. “Well, I guess I’d better get my make-up finished then.”

Shuichi began to turn away, when he caught a strange sight near the doorway that made him pause. Doing a double take, he saw that there was more than one Yuki Eiri waiting by the door.

Eiri and Iason stood in similar poses, eying each other warily, before Iason broke down laughing.

“This is the bozo they got to play me, then?” Eiri asked, looking over at Shuichi.

“I can’t believe you actually came,” Shuichi said, starry eyed, as he went to his lover’s side.

“Yeah, well, I finished the novel last night and I was bored,” Eiri said, looking around.

“Sure, Yuki,” Shuichi said sweetly, taking the sleeve of his jacket and pulling him further into the room.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t Eiri Yuki!” Thelonious said, stepping up with a beaming smile and holding out his hand. “You know, one of your translated books is really hot right now, back home. Have they ever approached you about making a film? I’ve been dying to break out into feature films, and you write really great visuals.”

“Yeah, let’s cut the crap,” Eiri said, ignoring Thelonious’ hand and looking him up and down. “The public has their hands on enough titillating images of the moron here to last them a lifetime, so why don’t you find yourself another pop singer to star in your soft porn flicks, already? I thought we got this straightened out the last time.

If this is what he wants to do, then I’m wasting my time, but I keep getting the impression you’re pressuring him into something he doesn’t want to do.”

Eiri gave a sidelong glance in K’s direction, who held up his hands in an innocent gesture.

“Then I guess the ball is in Shuichi’s court then,” Thelonious said, his false smile wavering as he looked at the singer questioningly.

“Um --” Shuichi said, looking back and forth from director, manager and lover. “Well, you see, this was my idea and all, and I don’t object to everything but -- Can we just cut the make-out scene, already? I don’t want to kiss anybody but Yuki!” Shuichi cried, cowering behind Eiri.

“You heard him,” Eiri said.

“Well, you’re already here, and we have everything set up. Why don’t we just replace Iason with the real thing?” Thelonious said sunnily, gesturing towards the set.

“No,” Eiri said firmly. “You just don’t get it, do you? That tape was private, and you leeches have seen enough. Let’s go home, Shuichi.”

Shuichi tore off the make-up cover, glancing back with a smile before following Eiri out of the door.

OoOoO

“Well, they shot us playing the entire song yesterday, so they should have plenty of footage to put the video together, and they still have the bathroom scene to use,” Shuichi said with a shrug as they drove away.

Yuki grunted in reply, pulling off onto a side road that wasn’t in the direction of home.

“Where are we going, Yuki?” Shuichi asked.

“I’ve got to return some videos,” Eiri said. “Fish them out of the back seat so I can drop them in the return box.”

“Sure,” Shuichi said, turning around in his seat. “But still, I know it isn’t the point, and I think we’ve got the whole PR thing taken care of and all that, but don’t you still wonder?”

“Wonder what, idiot?” Eiri asked, as Shuichi returned to his seat with the videos in his lap, popping open one of hard plastic casings.

“You know, who in the world managed to get into our apartment and get the -- Yuki?” Shuichi asked.

“What now?” Eiri asked irritably.

“Um -- you put one of our tapes back in the box. This is one of my Nittle Grasper concerts,” Shuichi said with a nervous laugh. Eiri glanced at the box in Shuichi’s lap and back at the road.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Eiri said, blinking. “I guess I’ll take them back tomorrow.”

“But Yuki, don’t you think --” Shuichi started.

“Not another word,” Eiri warned, making a u-turn.

Holy....! Ok, so we kinda knew, but...

2007-10-20T14:19:24Z

Dumbledore is gay! Yay!

The Gods of procrastination must have really been determined to get me back online. ^u^

All in all, I guess we're all in store for some very interesting discussions. Thank God. And here I was thinking that the fandom had gotten rather dull. ^u^
I think I'm coming down with strep, but at least I'll have something to entertain me on my sick day at home.

Yami fic: Illuminating the Darkness, prt. 12 & 13

2007-10-10T00:27:01Z

Hmm... It's been about a month, hasn't it? Sorry about any posts, birthdays, or what-not I missed, or likely will. Nothing too interesting by way of explanation, just fading interests, I suppose.

My writer's block let up a little, at least, in the mean-time. I'm going to post the new chapters here to cool before I put them up for the wider public, so any concrit is fine by me. This story is more difficult to write than my usual fare (hence the fact it's been taking me forever to update), so I'm hoping it's not coming out a mess. I'm making it up as I go again, as usual.

Hisoka awoke to find his bed empty, and bolted up with alarm, his eyes traveling over to where Watari was toweling off his long tresses by the bedroom mirror.

“Don’t worry, little one. He just went down to breakfast with the chibis. You slept even less than he did last night, so he let you be,” Watari said, glancing at his reflection in the glass. “Shall we join them?”

“Yeah,” Hisoka grumbled, resenting being left behind.

Downstairs they found Hy and Finch bickering about something trivial, while Tsuzuki and Michael ate in silence.

“Yeah, well you didn’t have to answer me like I’m some sort of idiot,” Hy huffed, crossing his arms.

“I was merely trying to word it in a way that you would understand,” Finch said calmly, his heavy lidded eyes lighting on the two who had just arrived. Hy fumed, following his gaze.

“Good morning,” Watari said, ruffling Hy’s hair affectionately and sitting beside him. “Did we have a good night’s rest?”

“Sure. Dandy,” Hy said, coloring slightly and glancing away from Watari’s suggestive grin. Hisoka noted with curiosity that he and Michael were sitting with Tsuzuki and Finch between them.

“How are you?” Hisoka asked softly, sliding into the chair beside Tsuzuki.

“I’m fine,” Tsuzuki said with a smile, surprising Hisoka when he leaned in, giving him a tender kiss.

“Baka,” Hisoka whispered, his eyes glancing quickly towards the others. He felt a strong wave of guilt escape from his partner and looked at him with concern.

“It’s not a big deal, Tsuzuki. It’s just awkward,” Hisoka said reassuringly, squeezing Tsuzuki’s hand under the table. Tsuzuki merely nodded, stroking his fingers lovingly with his thumb, and leaving his lover to wonder at his emotional overreaction as he seemed to close himself off.

“Are you ready, Tsuzuki?” Finch asked, looking toward the window of the hotel restaurant, where a boy with blond hair was waving to him from the street. Hisoka wondered why he had addressed his partner specifically as they followed the pair outside.

The tall, gangly blonde’s brown eyes sparkled when they rested on Finch, and the others watched with disbelief and discomfort as the taller boy pulled Finch into an impassioned embrace, capturing his lips in a kiss that bordered on violent. Watari looked quite entranced, and Hy shyly gazed at Michael, who was staring at his feet. Tsuzuki merely looked confused. Hisoka cleared his throat irritably.

Finch firmly pushed the other boy away with a scowl, to the blonde’s displeasure, and they began a conversation in French that quickly escalated into an argument. After a few moments of what seemed like exchanged insults and pleading, Finch finally calmed him with softly spoken words, and turned to the others completely unfazed as the other boy slunked off sulkily in the other direction.

“Good. Alain has agreed to lend me his bike,” Finch said with satisfaction, walking over to a small scooter parked in the street.

Before Hisoka or the others could even question how they were all supposed to travel, Finch mounted the bike and tossed Tsuzuki the other helmet.

“What’s going on?” Hisoka asked, as Tsuzuki climbed on behind Finch, throwing him an apologetic look as Finch started the engine.

“Tsuzuki?” Hisoka asked in numb shock, as he watched them pull away and merge with the traffic of the busy street.

xxxx

“That stupid idiot! I can’t believe he ditched us,” Hisoka said dejectedly, as Watari fiddled with a hand held PC in an attempt to look for directions to the Musee Fragonard. The four men sat on a bench outside of the hotel where they had been left behind by their guide and Tsuzuki.

“Tsuzuki’s really powerful. I’m sure he’ll be able to handle it,” Hy said. “And Finch may be an ass, but he’s probably some use at his job.”

Hisoka looked up at two pale blue eyes, as Michael uneasily patted his shoulder and gave him a look of sympathy.

“Well, Finch was right about one thing. There seems to be several Musee Fragonards!” Watari said, shaking his head and dragging a stylus across the small screen before him.

“Well, he said that he was sure which one would appeal to Muraki, so just look for the creepiest one,” Hy said with a shrug.

“Let’s see, it’s probably not the one centering on perfume,” Watari said, squinting. “The art museum seems unlikely, too. Somehow I just can’t see Muraki being a big fan of the Rococo period, despite his weird little doll collecting thing --”

“Watari, hurry,” Hisoka urged, his eyes still looking in the direction where Tsuzuki had disappeared.

“Aha! There’s a link on the museum page, mentioning that Jean Honore Fragonard had a nutty relation with his own museum in Paris,” Watari said, jabbing at the screen.

“What does it say?” Hisoka asked. Watari shook his head.

“The link is dead. Let me try another search,” Watari said. Hisoka sighed with frustration.

“Hey, guys, should I hail a cab or something? Maybe the driver would know what we‘re looking for, since it probably gets tourists,” Hy said, as Hisoka spotted the boy Finch had borrowed the bike from emerging from a nearby sweet shop.

“I’ve got a better idea,” Hisoka said, leaping to his feet and rushing up to the blond.

“Alain?” Hisoka said, remembering the name Finch had used. “Do you speak Japanese?” The boy gave him a confused look, before he tried asking about English, to which he received a timid nod.

“I speak a little,” Alain said slowly.

“Do you know where Finch went?” Hisoka asked, to which the boy shook his head. “How about the Musee Fragonard?”

Alain’s eyes widened slightly.

“Which one?” Alain asked, receiving a collective groan from the group.

xxxx

Alain looked a bit startled, having been pulled with bodily force by Hisoka into the nearest cab, and pumped for the information they sought. The car zoomed towards the outskirts of the city, to the area of Maisons-Alfort, once Alain mentioned a strange and little heard of museum was located there.

“I would not know it’s there,” Alain explained. “But I went with Finch once. It is not a good place, to my thinking.”

“Finally! Here it is,” Watari exclaimed, waving the little computer over his head. “It says here that Fragonard was an anatomist, who used a now unknown method for preserving the bodies of both animals and humans, using them as material for macabre works of art. His work was actually quite in vogue during his lifetime among the wealthy, in adding to their cabinets of curiosities.”

“And that’s the kind of place Finch takes a date?” Hy asked in disbelief.

“It was not a date,” Alain said. “We were working.”

“You’re shinigami then?” Hy asked.

“No longer. I left summons for investigations,” Alain explained.

“Oh, so you got a promotion! Good for you,” Watari said.

“It was not a transfer to my wishes,” Alain said with a shrug, with a look as though the subject pained him.

“Looks like we’re here,” Hy said, as the cab slowed to let them out on a quiet street before a stone wall bearing an engraved plaque reading Ecole Nationale Véterinaire d'Alfort.

“A veterinary school?” Hisoka mused aloud as they climbed out of the car, and Michael paid the driver.

“The world’s first, in fact, relocated from Lyons, and Fragonard was the director of anatomy. He was later fired for being crazy and later found work elsewhere,” Watari said, leading them to the front entrance.

They marched in silence past the old building of the school, following Alain’s lead, Hisoka feeling tense with mounting dread and urgency. What was Tsuzuki playing at, leaving him and the others to face Muraki on his own? Hisoka quickened his pace, urging their guide to make haste.

Alain lead them into a rather antiquated building labeled as the anatomy building and up to the second floor, Hisoka pushing ahead and taking the steps two at a time once he knew their general direction.

The door atop the stairs laid open upon a room that was dimly lit, Hisoka impatiently paying his way in and hearing nothing but the hollow clack of his shoes as he raced across the parquet floor, and the thrumming of blood in his ears. The small space was divided into three sections, which were each crammed with glass cases he only fleetingly registered the gruesome contents of as he went from one to the next, searching for his partner.

There were no other visitors to hinder him, and he finally reached a sight that gave him pause as he stepped into the last walled section of the museum. He could not help but lose focus of his goal for a fleeting moment, as his gaze fell upon the most impressively macabre vision he had ever encountered. Mounted on a pedestal which dominated the room were the skeletal remains of a horse posed in mid-gallop, bearing a well preserved and fully skinned mounted rider. As his gaze reluctantly lowered from the oddly glistening muscles and tendons of the corpse’s eternal grimace, he glimpsed the figures in contrasting suits of black and white beyond the gruesome sculpture.

“Humans are such frail creatures, are they not?” Hisoka heard, in the chilling voice that had so long haunted his recurring nightmares.
“I will not deny their uses though. They are delightful playthings. Just look at the beauty their raw materials can create. Their mortality is so enthrallingly poignant, sweet as their blood. I do sympathize with your infatuation with them, my love, but it is time that you accept their overall insignificance.

You have allowed much lowlier creatures to ensnare you, convince you that you share their very petty emotional weaknesses. It is not within your nature to feel these things, Tsuzuki. Will you not at last accept that we are brethren, and reject the inferior creatures from whom you so needlessly seek approval? They have most certainly rejected you, black lamb. They were never worthy of anything but your contempt. The sins you crucify yourself for are only sins in the eyes of the weak. You are stronger than these wretched insects, my perfect love.”

Hisoka craned his head slightly to see them better, not wanting his presence known just yet. He struggled within himself, wanting to run to Tsuzuki, shield him from any hurtful things the manipulative monster might wish to burden his mind with, but at the same time, unable to suppress a burning need for the answers Muraki might reveal.

As Hisoka slowly drew closer, crouching out of sight, he saw that Tsuzuki had fallen to his knees, head hung low and his hair obscuring his face.

“No, Muraki,” he heard Tsuzuki croak in a pitiful, low whisper.

“I offer you all that you have ever hoped for, Tsuzuki. There is peace in the darkness from which you were born. Above all, you crave love and forgiveness, and I am telling you that you have no need of either, that you have been disillusioned with an empathy for what is but dirt beneath your feet. Awaken, Asato! Hear my plea to your darkness! To your true self!” Muraki roared, his voice echoing through the room with a resonance that chilled Hisoka to his very soul as he watched the face of his lover with murmured prayers, begging him, though unsure what he was asking of the clearly shaken man.

Hisoka pulled himself up onto shaky legs, and darted around the pedestal, where he fell to his knees beside Tsuzuki. Muraki laughed, as Tsuzuki raised his head, his face wearing an impassive, malevolent smirk, and his eyes taking on a strange luminance.

“Poor timing as always, poppet,” Muraki said, his focus shifting. “Would he not be beautiful drenched in blood, Tsuzuki? Our own undying doll to play with at our leisure. Would it not be delicious to hear his screams? I see no reason why we can’t take him with us for our amusement.”

“Tsuzuki?” Hisoka pleaded, looking into eyes he no longer recognized, reaching out tentatively to touch his face. He gasped as his arm was clutched with a lightening quick grab, Tsuzuki’s hold tightening to an extent where Hisoka could feel the small bones of his wrist being crushed.

“All right, big fella. Unhand that chibi,” Watari said, running in at the sound of Hisoka’s pained cry. Tsuzuki wheeled around in anger, throwing Hisoka to the floor.

Hisoka looked up in a daze, to find the others had rushed in behind the blonde scientist, who was currently throwing anything he could pull out of his coat at an enraged Tsuzuki. Finding the powerful shinigami distracted, Hisoka saw Michael place his hands together, chanting softly as energy seemed to gather around him.

“Do you fools really think that you’re any match for Tsuzuki?” Muraki asked, looking on with amusement.

“That isn’t Tsuzuki,” Hisoka growled, struggling to his feet. “What have you done to him, you bastard?”

“What your king and all his minions most feared, though knew was inevitable,” Muraki said. Hisoka turned at the sound of a loud whoosh, a strong bluish light emanating from the now parted hands of Michael, who gazed upon Tsuzuki with intensity as the other shinigami released a fuda spell that knocked Watari off of his feet and sent him skidding across the floor. Before Tsuzuki could turn to respond, Michael unleashed his power upon him. Tsuzuki’s eyes went wide, as he clutched at his throat, mouthing silently as he was struck dumb.

Unable to voice an incantation to retaliate, he lunged at the visibly weakened Michael, as Hy threw himself between them.

“I’m sorry, Tsuzuki,” Hy said, eyes glistening, as he punched him in the jaw as hard as he could. Tsuzuki seemed only momentarily slowed, glaring at the boy murderously, as Finch and Alain stepped in on either side of him, spreading their arms in unison and chanting. Tsuzuki at last stilled, as a threads of golden light seemed to weave themselves around him.

Writhing, his voice returning to emit a howl of pain and anger, Tsuzuki fell to the floor, the golden light fading as the pair who had created it stood panting beside him.

Hisoka stumbled towards his fallen partner, but not before noticing that Muraki had gone.

xxxx

“A team from our division has seen correcting the memory of any human witnesses,” Finch said with a heavy sigh, collapsing into a chair back at the hotel, where Watari and Tsuzuki were laid out on their beds. Watari was already sitting up, demanding a full account and pouting that he’d been out for most of the battle.

“It would have been such a rare sight to see so many shinigami using their powers in one place,” Watari said, poking at a bruise on his forehead that had already begun to heal.

“We were indeed fortunate to have our collective efforts against Tsuzuki. Otherwise things would have been grave indeed,” Finch said solemnly.

Alain muttered something in French, to which Finch replied, with a withering stare, “This is neither the time or place.”

Hisoka was only half listening as he stared at Tsuzuki’s still form upon the bed.

“Finch?” Hisoka asked, looking up at him. “What did you and Alain do to Tsuzuki exactly? Is he going to be alright?”

“It was a common spell to drive back a demon,” Finch replied, his heavy lidded eyes appearing even more exhausted than usual. “These are the spells in which Alain and myself specialize, which is why I have had the Vemulakonda case for many years. Our combined casting gave it sufficient potency to subdue him, but he will recover.”

“Demon?” Hisoka asked, feeling dizzy as he felt Tsuzuki’s unconscious mind stir unguarded.

“Yes,” Finch said, regarding him with slight irritation. “He is your own lover and you do not know?”

Hisoka’s head swam with buzzing thoughts and emotions, making the sound of Finch’s voice sound far away as he laid his head down on Tsuzuki’s chest and succumbed to the lure of sleep.

xxxx

“Tsuzuki?” Hisoka called in the darkness. He felt nothingness, no solid touch below him to secure him, and then the panic of falling rapidly.

“Where am I? What is happening?” he cried, his arms thrashing about him for something to cling to. His decent seemed to slow, and stop gradually.

The landscape still blank and black, he stood. From the nothingness, a single rose seemed to sprout and grow, followed rapidly by another, until he was surrounded by a bed of blood red blossoms that glowed with an eerie light in the otherwise barren landscape. Curiously, he reached to touch one, and felt the immediate sting of a thorn. The thorns seemed to grow longer, the stems twisting into a sea of brambles around him. He felt a wave of overwhelming despair and fell to his knees, sobbing like a child.

When he looked up once more, the vegetation was gone, leaving only the closely snipped heads of hundreds of blooms, their petals seeming to bleed and blur in his tearful vision.

“You do not belong here, Hisoka,” he heard a small, child’s voice say. As he looked around, a tiny figure take form from the shadows, and he knew it instantly, though he did not recall from where.

The child came closer, his eyes familiar but completely strange to him at the same time. They were like something he knew, something he cared about, but they were all wrong, too bright, and lacking a spark of emotion that he felt should be there.

“Who are you?” Hisoka asked.

“Asato,” the child replied, cocking his head to one side.

“Is this -- is it really you, Tsuzuki?” Hisoka whispered.

“It is and it isn’t,” the child said with a shrug.

“I don’t understand,” Hisoka said, tears of frustration still falling down his face.

“You’re not meant to,” the child said. “You should go away before he destroys you, too.”

The child faded before Hisoka could say another word.

“Tsuzuki! Where are you? What is this place?” Hisoka demanded.

Hisoka made out Tsuzuki’s form in the darkness. He was crouched, his head hung low, much like Hisoka had last seen him before he had attacked everyone. Hisoka ran towards him, though he never seemed to gain any ground or grow any closer.

“Tsuzuki! Look at me! I want to understand. Please,” Hisoka called to him. Tsuzuki looked up sadly from where he was studying his outstretched hands. They were stained with blood.

“We made a promise -- you can’t leave me,” Hisoka murmured, thrashing fitfully on the bed.

“Shh -- wake up, little one,” Hisoka heard a voice say gently, a cool, assuring hand pressed to his forehead.

“Watari?” Hisoka asked, opening his eyes, and finding himself lying on the bed the scientist had occupied before. He sat up quickly, assuring himself that Tsuzuki where he’d seen him last.

“Is he okay? Has he stirred at all?” Hisoka asked. Watari shook his head.

“He’s still unconscious. Finch and Alain are going to try to wake him once their energy is restored,” Watari said.

“What are they going to do?” Hisoka asked uneasily.

“It is a spell to bind the demonic spirit inside Tsuzuki,” Finch said, having overheard as he walked into the room. “If we weaken the demon’s hold, then perhaps Tsuzuki can regain control of his senses. But it will be entirely up to him from that point.”

“But,” Hisoka said, confused. “I thought what you were trying to tell me was that Tsuzuki was the demon.” Finch sighed, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“It isn’t quite that simple. A being of both human and demonic origin is in constant conflict within themselves. They are warring spirits, like oil and water. It’s almost as if the soul splits and forms separate wholes,” Finch said.

“How do you know so much about such an odd thing, Finch?” Watari asked, listening with great interest.

“Because the Vemulakonda have been experimenting in order to engineer a being from both human and demon genetics for nearly a century. And from what documents I’ve been able to recover from them, they know of someone who may very well have succeeded in doing just that,” Finch said.

xxxx

Hisoka sat outside of the door to his hotel room, replaying the confusing feelings and imagery he had experienced. Had he truly ventured somewhere into Tsuzuki’s unconsciousness, or was it merely a strange dream? Had this strange child been apart of this demonic spirit within Tsuzuki of which Finch had spoken, the same phantom that had been haunting the shadows all this time?

Hisoka had been told to leave the room while Finch and Alain attempted to revive Tsuzuki, much to his dismay. He and the others waited anxiously on the walkway between rooms, watching a sheet of rain paint the world gray around them. It was the early hours of the morning, and none of them had slept well, someone always standing guard in case Tsuzuki awoke and was still no longer in his right mind.

Feeling he would go mad if he focused on his troubles any longer, he observed those who waited with him. Watari seemed uncharacteristically subdued, as if he also had much on his mind. He had told Hisoka that Tatsumi would want to know about all that was happening here and would be angry that he wasn’t informed, but that Watari knew that once the Ministry secretary got even the slightest clue that Tsuzuki was in such a state that he would immediately come to Paris, damn the consequences. And they would have enough explaining to do on their return as it was.

Hy and Michael seemed to be continuing with the odd distance between them that Hisoka had absently noted during breakfast, Hy sitting alone at the balcony’s edge, smoking one of his cigars and watching the rain. Hisoka rose and went to sit beside him.

“I thought you were trying to quit,” Hisoka said. Hy gave a shrug, and didn’t meet his eyes.

“Don’t seem to matter much right now,” Hy said quietly, throwing the half smoked cigar over the ledge. “Do you think Tsuzuki will be mad that I punched him?”

“I doubt he’ll remember,” Hisoka said. “I don’t think that was Tsuzuki.”

“No, it couldn’t have been,” Hy said. “I’m really sorry about all this, Hisoka. Maybe I --” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“What is it?” Hisoka prompted.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have let Tatsumi and Watari convince me in letting you get involved after all,” Hy said. “I just sort of trusted that two smart fellas like them would know best, but it was still my decision in the end.”

“This would have happened either way. I think that’s what Tsuzuki has been trying to protect me from all this time. He knew something was changing within him, but he didn’t want to tell me,” Hisoka said, flinching. “I don’t know why the big idiot just can’t accept that we’re in this together, that I promised never to leave him and that he can’t just push me away now --”. Hisoka closed his eyes, fighting tears he felt too tired to shed. He felt the cautious touch of a warm hand seeking his, and, after a slight uneasy pause, accepted it.

“I know what y’all are going through is a lot worse, but in a way, I kinda understand,” Hy said giving his palm a gentle squeeze. Hisoka was unsure what to say, and didn’t wish to pry. Sensing his discomfort, Hy gave him a forced smile.

“Michael’s good, ain’t he?” Hy asked shyly. “I mean, I hate that he had to do that to Tsuzuki, but --”.

“Yes. You were right, I was impressed,” Hisoka answered. “It’s okay, Hy. We had to protect ourselves, and he wasn’t injured.”

The door behind them flew open, Alain gesturing towards him.

“Hisoka, come,” he asked. Hisoka gave him a bewildered look and followed him into the room.

Tsuzuki was tossing on the bed, murmuring low as if he were in the midst of a bad dream. Finch stood beside him in the low light of the bedside lamp, chanting, his hands ghosting patterns in the air above him.

“The worst is over,” Alain explained quietly. “Finch thinks it best if you are near to draw him forward.”

Hisoka looked at him questioningly before receiving a nod as he reached for Tsuzuki’s hand.

“Tsuzuki? It’s me, Hisoka,” he said quietly, leaning near Tsuzuki’s ear. Tsuzuki was drenched in sweat, his white shirt torn and disarrayed as if he had been through a physical struggle.

“Please, Tsuzuki, I know you’re tired, but you need to fight it,” Hisoka said, the tears he’d held back now flowing. “I don’t know what you’re going through, and I don’t completely understand, but I know you’re struggling against something, and I need you to try.

Muraki’s wrong, Tsuzuki. You are human. You’ve never been anything else.”

Tsuzuki’s breathing quickened and his lips fell still in their mutterings.

“Remember when you told me I was selfish in Kyoto?” Hisoka continued, choking back a sob. “Well, I am selfish. I need you, and I’m not going to let you go. You need to fight it for me, Tsuzuki.”

Tsuzuki’s body pitched upward slightly, and he went rigid, panting furiously. Finch’s chants became louder, as Alain attempted to hold him down on the bed. Hisoka stepped back, holding his breath and digging his nails into his palms. Tsuzuki’s body relaxed at last, Alain wiping his brow with a handkerchief on the bedside table and whispering an incantation.

Tsuzuki opened his eyes.

Xxxx

“Tsuzuki?” Hisoka asked, pushing Alain aside and climbing onto the bed. “Tsuzuki can you understand me?”

Tsuzuki nodded weakly, giving a small smile. Hisoka kissed him, lightly, clinging to him tightly with an exhausted sob, as Tsuzuki feebly raised an arm to pat him on the back. Finch and Alain quietly exited the room.

After Hisoka had satisfied himself that Tsuzuki was indeed safely himself and moderately coherent, running his fingers over the other man’s face and asking him simple questions, he sat up with a deep sigh.

“You stupid, moronic, selfish martyr of a baka!” Hisoka yelled, smacking him on the head.

“The hell?” Tsuzuki murmured in complaint. “I’m kind of defenseless right now, baby.”

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve worried me? How much danger you brought on yourself and the rest of us? Why did you leave us there? Did you really think I wouldn’t find a way to follow you? Don’t you ever do anything like that again, you hear me?” Hisoka went red in the face, hitting Tsuzuki repeatedly over the head with a pillow to punctuate his words.

Stopping with the pillow in mid air, he stared at Tsuzuki’s pale, bewildered face, and the wide, innocent expression in his beautiful eyes that Hisoka had been uncertain he would ever see again. He sensed love there, and, of equal importance to him at that moment, he sensed trust. Dropping the pillow, he collapsed once more across the older man’s chest and broke into fresh sobs once more.

“I’m just so grateful that you’ve come back to me,” Hisoka said, his words muffled from where he buried his face in Tsuzuki’s chest. Tsuzuki shushed him soothingly, rubbing his back with whispered apologies.

“I’ve never cried so much in my life,” Hisoka said with a slight hiccup, looking up at him with swollen red eyes.

“Just rest, baby,” Tsuzuki said, wiping a tear from his cheek. Hisoka nodded, and without another word, curled against him and slept.

Xxxx

Hisoka awoke to the sensation of warm lips and hands exploring his body.

“Tsuzuki -- Watari,” Hisoka protested groggily, reluctantly pushing him away.

“Is staying in Hy and Michael’s room,” Tsuzuki replied.

Despite the time they’d lacked the privacy to be together, they took things slowly, tender caresses and lingering kisses speaking of things they knew would only be lost in mere words. The two men knew that something even more profound had awakened between them, as Hisoka at last felt another of the many doors Tsuzuki had kept locked between them open, and a hope that had not been there before.

You’re going to save me from myself.

I know who you are, and I love you.

I need you so much that it scares me.

Wherever you are heading, I will follow you.

xxxx

“Rested up, boys?” Watari called, barging into the room.

“Should’ve made him give back the key, baka,” Hisoka muttered, his eyelashes fluttering as he awoke, and clutched the covers closer.

“Well, everything seems back to normal here,” Watari said with a giggle upon seeing their state of undress. “Wasn’t it nice of me to give you some privacy?”

“Do you have a reason to be in here?” Hisoka groaned, pulling the pillow over his head.

“You’re welcome,” Watari sniffed, then took a more serious tone. “Finch has a lead, if you’re sure you want to continue with this.”

Tsuzuki sat up, glancing back at Hisoka, before giving Watari a nod.

“Then we’ll meet you in the lobby when you’re ready,” Watari said with a wink. “I’m so happy that you’re back big fella. You even had me worried for a moment there.”

Tsuzuki gave him a smile before he left the room.

“Tsuzuki -- if you want to go home --,” Hisoka began.

“No. I told you we were coming here for answers, and we’re not leaving until we get them. Muraki didn’t bring the files with him. He was trying to lure me to another location with them,” Tsuzuki said.

“Do you have an idea what is in them?” Hisoka asked. “Are they from the time you were under the care of Muraki’s grandfather?”

“They aren’t my medical files. They’re my mother’s,” Tsuzuki said.

Sims2 Project: YnM

2007-08-20T03:12:00Z

Just as an experiment of sorts, I have illustrated scenes in chapters 7-9 in my third Yami no Matsuei story, The Imaginary World, using sims. It's more or less something I worked on for my own amusement, in case I want to use the medium for a whole story sometime, but I'm leaving it unlocked in case anyone who enjoyed the story might want to look. ^u^

I've seen other sim stories on LJ with nice, clear screenshots, but these turned out really crappy. If anyone knows how to fix this, I'd appreciate it.

~~The strangest~~ Warning ~~I've ever felt compelled to add~~: One visual representation of a kiss between two male sims of consenting age. ^o^

It's been nearly a year since I finished this story, so here's a refresher (it's not nearly as bad as it sounds out of context here, I hope!):
The Imaginary World, Chapter 7

“Hello,” a cheerful voice from somewhere above them spoke, startling them greatly. They turned and looked up to see the man from before sitting casually on a high branch, his pink eyes sparkling. He seemed to glide down from his perch as he landed before them, revealing his diminutive height. He looked up at them with a smile, and bowed deeply.

“Greetings! I am Kokopelli, and I welcome you most graciously to my kingdom!”

Several small figures timidly emerged from behind the trees.

“There's nothing to fear children. They're just mortals, silly,” Kokopelli said invitingly to the child-like little people who each seemed to have different animal characteristics and wore elaborate head dresses fashioned from plants and twigs.

“See? I told you they were cute,” Byakko said defensively to no one in particular. The god at the table's head sighed impatiently.

“Get on with it! I'm hungry!” Kokopelli demanded. The wood fairies scrambled to the table nervously

This time it was Tsuzuki that went a bit pale. Hisoka bolted upright.

“That's completely ridiculous!” Hisoka yelped. “I don't have an oven in the first place! What kind of scientist are you? He can't do that!”

Kokopelli glided towards them from across the clearing, where the little people had set up torches, luxuriously piled pillows and woven blankets.

“Come! Sit! Let us entertain you!” Kokopelli cried merrily, leading them to the setting they'd prepared. The men seemed greatful for the distraction, as they were each feeling more than a little agitated at this point, and made their way to settle on the provided cushions.

The mouse fae led them to the largest hut in the village, which seemed to rest a little too precariously in its tree.

“You like it?” Kokopelli asked, swooping in from nowhere and nearly making the drunken men fall over the railing. “I just had it built! There's a room for each of you -- that is -- if you really need three of them!” Kokopelli flew off again with a giggle.

“Tsuzuki!” Hisoka gave a startled cry as the older shinigami scooped him up and threw him on the bed. His shyness was short lived however, as Tsuzuki stepped within his reach and found himself pulled down next to his partner with an urgency that knocked the breath out of him.

I couldn't resist:

“Because you were standing under our window, you perverted asshole!” Hisoka growled.

“Well, there is that,” Watari said shamelessly

Two random shots:

“See? I told you they were cute,” Byakko said defensively to no one in particular.

The clothes have meshes and textures from both Maxis and artists mostly found on modthesims2, edited, recolored and modified by myself (for purely personal use). As for hair, I recolored Hisoka's, but everything else is as-is from MTS2 or PeggySims or SimsCribbling. Jarrett's outfit is from aikea guienea, unmodified.

WIP meme

2007-08-05T00:15:58Z

borrowed from cinnamon_sakaki, the works in progress meme:
Post a little weensy excerpt from as many random works-in-progress as you can find lying around. Who knows? Maybe inspiration will strike.

If I did every one I have lying about, we'd be here a while, so I'll just stick to what I find on my hard drive. I probably haven't seen some of this stuff since I wrote it...

Let's see what's in the Harry Potter folder first, shall we?

*Post DH spoiler
A young Teddy Lupin searches for answers about what his father was like. While his grandmother and Minister Shacklebolt have helped fill in a lot of the blanks about the brave and funny lady who was his mother, it doesn't seem like there are a lot of people still living who truly knew Remus Lupin.

A postcard is discovered with the address of Lupin's last known residence, in Wales, and when his beloved "Auntie Luna" just happens to be going there to observe a rare magical creature...

* A typical R/S fluff bit that's gathered a year's worth of dust: “Whatcha' doing, Moony?” he asked, shuffling closer and sitting beside him.
“Um, reading?” Remus said, pretending to be completely absorbed in what, to his chagrin, turned out to be a knitting manual. He didn't feel like being in close proximity to Sirius right now. Not whenever the reason for his early awakening was coming back to him in small flashes of feeling. He'd had another of those dreams.
Remus chanced a quick glance up, to find Sirius staring back at him, leaning back against the window sill with his arms crossed and the usual smirk pulling at his lips. He shut the book, knowing it was of little use to attempt to ignore him.
“So who did it? Was it the butler?” Sirius asked, stretching.
“Yes, Sirius. A butler murdered someone for no apparent reason in a book on knitting,” Remus said. Sirius glanced down at the book, stiffling a yawn.
“Taken up knitting then, Moony? You would look cute, you know, clacking away with yarn and needles by the common room fire,” Sirius said with a grin. “You could make James a broom cozy.” Remus laid the book aside, smiling slightly.
“Git,” he muttered. Sirius reached out and ruffled Remus' already bed mussed hair, and began to walk towards the kitchen.

*The AU where Remus is a malnourished waif caught rifling through the trash at the Black estate, that you may recall from ages ago. I had written a second chapter, but the file seems to have been saved in some weird format that my computer refuses to read. ^o^

*melandry prompted me to write R/S with them as muggle elementary school teachers. I started two versions before stopping.

“Look. I'll think about it all right? You've got to understand, Sirius. I don't look at employment as a new adventure. I need this job, and I'm lucky to have finally gotten on at this school. If I put in a word for you, not only do I need you to behave, you need to at least stay out the year. Do you understand?” Remus asked, his eyes fixed steadily on his friend's.
“Of course!” Sirius exclaimed. “I really have a good feeling about this one, Remus. When you told me about the job opening, it just felt like it was the perfect opportunity. And heck, what's a year? I've put in that long at much more boring jobs, right?”
“I believe your six months delivering pizzas has set the record so far,” Remus said. Sirius' face fell slightly.
“Is that all?” Sirius asked, then shook his head, brightening again. “But this will be different, Remus, I just know it.”

Gravitation folder:

*Tohma observes various other characters. I have no idea where I was going with this one.
But it is nothing so unique in this little kingdom of dashed hopes and suppressed desires I have constructed like some memorial to my own unfulfilled dreams. Is there truly any occupant of this web of persons who is not spinning themselves a facade from the same common thread to mask their disappointments?
Perhaps Shindou. Is it ignorance or an innate wisdom that causes him to walk so naked among us? Yes, there is a begrudging admiration within myself for this child. After all, he has made more progress to correct my greatest failure by stumbling than I have with all my most carefully constructed plans.

*A Hiro/Suguru fic, which heavily features friendship between Hiro and Ryuichi.
. He pulled it down, looking curiously at the crayon written flyer.
Attention! Some meanie has kidnapped Kumagoro! Or maybe Kumagoro got lost. He might still be hiding, because we were playing hide and seek when he went missing. But if you see him, tell him to report to Sakuma Ryuichi immediately! He’s probably hungry by now!
- Sakuma Ryuichi
The message was written beneath a cartoonish drawing in pink crayon that was covered in glitter, and listed the rabbit's vital statistics, including weight and eye color.
Hiro felt a sinking pang of guilt in his stomach. He'd forgotten all about having Ryuichi's bunny.

* In the tradition of such crack humor tales as "Fan Service", a story in which Shuichi and Yuki have their own sex tape scandal.

Yami:

*I wrote a second chapter to "Letting Go", where Hisoka finds out about Tsuzuki sleeping with Hijiri.

*A very dark TsuSoka fic that I didn't like...

*And, of course, "Illuminating the Darkness". Chapter 12 is at 1500 words.

I'm going to leave it at that, because this is getting too long. There are few things started for other fandoms, and all of my original work is hand written in notebooks, but you get the jist. What I don't finish will be recycled, but hopefully at least one of these will make it to "the end" one day.

DH...! Spoilers under cut.

2007-07-23T17:03:54Z

Despite twelve hours sleep and a six hour work shift crammed in there somewhere, and the fact that I'm the world's slowest reader, I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows at about 3am this morning. God, I'm tired.

So, my greatest hope for DH involved no ship, prediction, or particular wish. What I wanted most urgently was a book that brought back to me the love and wonder I held for Harry Potter and his world. And?

It most assuredly did.

It's no secret that I wasn't a too happy with HBP, but now I see why, as it was so much a set up of information to lay the grounds for this latest, wonderful book. It was so exhilarating to once more feel that urgency, that "just one more page and I'll sleep -- aw, screw it! I have to know what happens!" feeling I had with all the previous books (save the one before). Perhaps I'll be able to appreciate HBP more in hindsight.

I haven't read anyone else's reactions yet, and I am of course very curious to dive into that as soon as I've posted. I know we're not going to like everything that happened, but I hope that everyone enjoyed it overall, too, because I know it's every bit as important to y'all.

It was so wonderful to see nearly every character we love get a shining moment. The trio was so incredible! There are just too many others to name.
Of course, I'll mention my favorite character, though. All the affectionate Luna love really made me smile. That she was among those mentioned that Harry most wanted to see before he went to face death, just floored me. And her cheering him enough to make a patronus, and allowing him to escape the crowd at the end... I know Harry/Luna was never a possibility, but it's at least nice that it's indisputable canon that they love each other very much. ^u^

And I am at last a Ron/Hermione shipper. They were so sweet!

I LOVE little things like Kreacher finding happiness, Dudley having a heart, Regulus turning out to be so brave, and the Gringott's dragon finding freedom.

Two of my three favorite (living -- must not forget Sirius)characters died. That was hard. I'm actually quite glad that I went in knowing this and had time to prepare myself. Fred Weasley and Remus Lupin...;_;

Now that I've stressed that I loved this book, and that I understand that the fannon world and the canon world are things that are separate and can be separately enjoyed no matter how they contradict, and that my obsession with minor characters is not the point: Well, as a Sirius/Remus fan, it seems only natural that I address...

How sad is it that when I first heard that Tonks was pregnant, my first thought was that it would be nice to be able to read about Remus as a loving father? Poor Teddy. I wish that she'd at least spared your sweet little mum, who, I feel compelled to admit, deserved a lot better than your dad.

It seemed, to me anyway, that Remus did not love her, which makes me far sadder than when I thought that he did, since he married her anyway. He never said a kind, loving word to or about that lady in all of canon and tried to run out on her. While I suppose that could work for my OTP, it doesn't leave me with a very good last impression of Remus Lupin, to say the least. I hated the damper that put on seeing him happily reunited with the others in death, a scene that was beyond my wildest fandom dreams. It seemed obvious that Remus' heart actually did stay firmly in the past with his lost friends, just as it often did in a number of fics showing that he didn't love Nymphadora, but I couldn't help but feel sorry for those who loved and needed him in the present. Kind of a Phyrric victory, no?

I'll get over it, and I do still love Sirius/Remus (and Harry/Luna and Fred/Hermione, for that matter). Fangirls are very resilient creatures, after all. ^u~ But I just felt it was worth stating. I hope I won't make anyone mad. *whimpers*

But Jo's characters, overall, are not black and white (I could argue with a sociopathic Tom Riddle, and an alarmingly single-minded Slytherin house, but meh). The villains redeem themselves with love and the heros have very human faults. And I wouldn't want it any other way.

But still...why is she so freaking hard on James? Geez, Sirius got off easy, even with a second mention of how he basically deserved to die because he didn't find Kreacher delightful.

I have millions of other thoughts on probably more important plot aspects, of course, but probably nothing that won't be addressed in far more eloquent terms than mine in other places. In other words, I'm shutting up now. ^u^

I love you all, and thank God that I've had you to share these wonderful books with.

lucymay_lj @ 2007-07-13T22:40:00

2007-07-14T03:57:04Z

My OotP movie thoughts:

Let's get the gripes out of the way, shall we? Of course things were cut. It's a freaking long book. But it was hard not to miss certain things.

Poor Ron. First all his lines get stolen, and now apparently he didn't become a prefect or make the Quidditch team. C'mon, guys, it wouldn't have taken five minutes to give Rupert something else cool to do. After all, it was kind of Ron's shining moment out of Harry's shadow.

Lily got cut from SWM. :( And, you know, Snape calling her a mudblood after she comes to his rescue was the one thing that took the edge off of James and Sirius bullying him (and Remus would not be smiling and laughing in the background, I don't think).

Ah, those cuddly domestic moments with Remus and Sirius, clearing out doxies and sending joint floo correspondence (and presents). ^o^

Sirius' claustrophobic torment in a home with anything but but good memories.

Luna's lion hat, and the Quibbler printing Harry's interview.

Neville's parents; for me, the most heart-wrenching scene in the series thus far.

The naming of Dumbledore's Army seemed a tad important.

Percy's falling out with his family.

Everyone seeing Harry off at the station.

Observation:

So, assuming Jo supervises the scripts and might see to it that things that may have importance in later films aren't cut: maybe the two-way mirror isn't going to be used again? And why wouldn't they take a couple of seconds to explain Tonks' extraordinary powers? Surely they'll become a useful plot device in the next book?

Question:

Is there a scene in the OotP book where Luna goes barefoot because her shoes were stolen, like in the film? I couldn't find it. The reason I'm wondering is kind of funny...

I did like the movie, despite my little nitpicks, really. The films have become such a great way for me to share my little world with my mum, for one thing. ^u^
I love how Luna was sort of the heart of the film, and there were scenes that made my Harry/Luna loving self quite happy (Harry mentioning nargles before The Kiss amused me a great deal). I can already tell the pairing has new fans, because my old story is getting hits. ^u^

I was surprised to find the Grawp scene enjoyable and necessary.

Baby thestrals are so cute!

Umbridge and Bellatrix were introduced flawlessly, and perfectly cast.

The Patronus charm scene was neat. I wonder if Jo was consulted on what their animal would be?

Dumbledore's stylish escape.

Okay, I've been a bit long-winded, so I'll stop now. ^u^

Yami fic: conclusion to "Reward"

2007-07-03T22:36:59Z

very NC-17, mind you:

Hisoka drug his feet while walking home, thinking over the humiliating and infuriating day he’d had with a frown. He was all too aware of his looks, that he was forever trapped like a fly in amber, his youth and delicate beauty forever preserved with his death as an emaciated, terminally ill teenager. It was enough that he would forever appear to be a wide eyed child, but did he have to be emasculated as well?

Hisoka’s mind drifted back to the look of fascination and lust on Tsuzuki’s face as he looked at the ridiculous things Saya and Yuma had displayed for them, and sighed. Entering the bedroom of the small house he rented, he was reminded of all the sexual games he had initiated with his partner since Tsuzuki had stirred a longing in him that he never even knew he had. Sure, Tsuzuki enjoyed it, but was he not also compromising just a little? Tsuzuki played the role of demanding what he wanted from him, but did he hold back, with unspoken boundaries of what he knew Hisoka was comfortable doing?

Hisoka threw the large pink bag on the bed, the contents spilling across the sheets. He imagined Tsuzuki ordering him to dress up for him, giving him that same crazed look of longing he’d given the mannequins in Watari’s lab.

I just think it would be kind of hot because you’d be doing it for me, Hisoka heard Tsuzuki say in his mind, and shivered.

Xxxx

“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki asked, finding the door unlocked. He’d been a little surprised when his partner had invited him over that evening. He didn’t think that his younger lover was exactly angry with him, but had got the impression that he was just annoyed enough to call off their usual after work activities for the night.

Something smelled delicious, he thought, gravitating towards the dining area, where he found the table had been set for one, tall white candles illuminating the scene softly.

“Have a seat,” Hisoka’s voice called from the kitchen. Tsuzuki obeyed, when Hisoka emerged from the shadows. It was probably a good thing he was sitting down, he thought, as his eyes focused on the vision before him.

Hisoka stood, bowing demurely, his blonde hair crowned with a lace cap with ginger cat ears peeking out from its sides. The frilly top of the maid’s uniform rested off of narrow shoulders, accentuating the ribbon collar about the boy’s long neck.

“I’ve nearly prepared your supper, Master,” Hisoka said softly. “Would you like some wine while you wait?”

Tsuzuki’s hand trembled, as he placed a tentative touch to Hisoka’s bare outer thigh, exposed by the tiny skirt which just barely covered his hips.

“Master, please,” Hisoka said with protest. “Your supper will be ruined.”

Tsuzuki nodded dreamily in agreement, as Hisoka turned towards the kitchen, Tsuzuki enjoying the view greatly as the skirt rode up over his rear as he toddled away awkwardly in his high heeled shoes, the ginger tail that matched the ears swishing to and fro.

Tsuzuki wasn’t entirely certain whether or not Hisoka was making good on his threat to punish him in return or not, as his senses were assaulted by the promise of food and sex while he was forced to sit still and wait. He reached the conclusion that Hisoka had to be at least somewhat evil in his intensions, however, as the boy stood close and bent over just a little further than necessary to fill his glass, swatting his wandering hands away with a playful smirk.

At last, after an all too sensual show of arranging the floral centerpiece, and fixing his plate, Tsuzuki was at least able to indulge in one of his cravings, digging in to an immaculately prepared dish of grilled fish and grated daikon.

“Is the yakizakana to your liking, master?” Hisoka asked, wiping the corner of Tsuzuki’s mouth with a napkin. Tsuzuki grabbed his hand, kissing his wrist, and looking up at him lovingly.

“Best I’ve ever had,” Tsuzuki said, his voice gravelly.

“I’m glad to know that you are pleased, master. I need to finish desert now,” Hisoka said, smiling wickedly as he slid his hand from his lover’s reach and went back towards the kitchen.

Tsuzuki realized, that for the first time in his life, he was resenting prolonging his meal with sweets.

Tsuzuki watched in silent torment as Hisoka even showed a talent for making the clearing of plates look sinful, grateful when the boy at last came to deliver a desert of castella cake and green tea ice cream. Tsuzuki looked at the skillfully iced peach atop his sponge cake with a warm smile.

“That’s beautiful, Hisoka,” Tsuzuki said, and looked up with a slight frown. “Aren’t you going to eat anything? It doesn’t seem right that you don’t get to eat, too.”

“I’ve already had my supper,” Hisoka said slowly, walking around the table towards him, “but I guess I still have room for some desert.”

Hisoka pushed his shoulders back gently, slinking into his lap.

“Will you feed me, master?” Hisoka asked with a purr.

Tsuzuki’s heart beat so fast, he was wondering if it were possible for shinigami to go into cardiac arrest, as he fed a spoonful of ice cream and cake to his lover, Hisoka licking the spoon with a small murmur of approval. He captured his lips at last, devouring the small, cold mouth, still tinged with sugared frosting.

“Enjoy your desert master. I have something else in mind for mine,” Hisoka said, breaking their kiss and sliding down Tsuzuki’s body towards the floor.

Tsuzuki’s mind reeled, all his deepest desires realized, as Hisoka freed his long neglected erection from his trousers. Tsuzuki watched, mesmerized, as Hisoka began to suck him, the soft cat ears tickling him as he was taken in entirely into the still slightly chilled, moist cavern.

“Hmm, yes, Hisoka,” Tsuzuki murmured, his hands caressing the soft bare shoulders of his lover. The combined intensity of knowing Hisoka would put on such a show just for him, the sight of the boy crouched before him and the mind-blowing skill of his partner’s current activity were too much for Tsuzuki, and it didn’t take much for him to come. His fingers dug into tender flesh as he groaned with relief.

Hisoka gave a satisfied hum, pulling back slightly and lapping up his release with long, leisurely strokes of his tongue, eyes closed.

“Would you like for me to draw you a bath master?” Hisoka asked, peering up at him at last.

“Will you join me?” Tsuzuki asked, running the back of his hand across Hisoka’s cheek. Hisoka shook his head.

“I’ll be retiring to the bedroom to wait for you,” Hisoka said, rising onto his feet and turning his back to him. “Unzip me?”

Tsuzuki gave a low rumble in his throat, as he pulled down the zipper on the back of the satin uniform, placing hot kisses down the boy’s back as it was uncovered. Hisoka trembled, leaning back into his touch, and giving a pleasured gasp as Tsuzuki swiped his tongue over his tailbone.

Pulling away reluctantly, Hisoka shot his lover a heated look over his shoulder before walking off towards the bathroom.

xxxx

Tsuzuki felt little doubt that he was the luckiest man alive, emerging from an unusually brief, but nonetheless relaxing bath. He found, to his wonder, a new silk dressing gown laid out for him at the edge of the tub, toweling off and pulling it on. Hisoka had really gone all out for him, he thought, his heart swelling with joy at the thought that the best part of his evening was still yet to come.

“Oh my God,” was all that Tsuzuki could manage when he reached the bedroom.

The bedroom was lit with candles, just as the dining area had been, the soft light making the scene before him seem ever more like a dream. Hisoka was stretched out on his stomach across the bed, looking up at him with an alluring mixture of anticipation and nervousness, the light playing upon the golden highlights of his hair. The sheer white negligee pooled around his slender waist, pulled up flirtatiously for a clear glimpse of his taught behind, the tiny thong panties leaving little to the imagination. Lacy garters framed the creamy bare flesh from below, his long legs encased in filmy ivory silk. He was a perfect vision of both angelic beauty and sinful temptation, Tsuzuki thought. And he’s all mine.

“Do you like it?” Hisoka asked coyly.

Tsuzuki grabbed the doorframe for support and nodded dazedly.

“Are you just going to stand there and stare?” Hisoka asked teasingly, rolling onto his side and adjusting his garter enticingly.

Tsuzuki drifted to the bed and sat on its edge, Hisoka crawling off the sheets and standing before him. Translucent, pale material clung to his slight torso, the open front falling back at the sides to reveal tented satin.

“You can’t tell me that you don’t feel sexy looking like that,” Tsuzuki said, his eyes dark with overwhelming lust.

“I thought I would feel really ridiculous, but I like the way you look at me in it,” Hisoka said, blushing slightly. “I -- I like the feelings I read from you,” he said with a shudder, throwing his head back slightly, his long eyelashes fluttering, as if he were soaking in the waves of passion emanating from his lover. “It feels amazing.”

Hisoka lifted a stocking clad leg, resting it on the bed by Tsuzuki, placing a hand on his shoulder for balance. Tsuzuki took the invitation eagerly, running his hands over the gossamer fine material delicately, and leaning forward to kiss the bare skin above the garter. His lips traveled upward, and he lapped lightly at the skin at the edge of the satin thong, causing Hisoka to hiss with longing.

His fingers crawled up Hisoka’s thigh, until they reached the flimsy band, slipping beneath it and tugging gently downward. Hisoka pushed down on Tsuzuki’s shoulders, raising himself and allowing him to slide the panties off.

Tsuzuki gave a murmur of admiration at the sight of Hisoka’s liberated sex, delving his hands beneath the back of the negligee to squeeze his ass as he took him into his mouth. He felt as if he could truly devour the boy, as he eagerly tasted him, savoring the sexy little sounds he coaxed from him as he worked lips and tongue over his cock. The novel sensation of soft silk and lace caressing his cheek as he worked was almost enough to drive him mad, as was the desperate way Hisoka wound his fingers into his hair, pulling him forward.

Hisoka stiffened and cried his name, filling Tsuzuki’s mouth and nearly collapsing. Tsuzuki held him up as he withdrew, appreciating the delicious sight of the thoroughly debauched boy panting in his arms.

He pulled Hisoka down into his lap, sliding his arm beneath his knees and standing. He turned around and placed him on the bed, his eyes traveling down his tantalizingly clad form as he shed his robe.

“Tsuzuki,” Hisoka murmured, beckoning him with a fevered gaze of green, spreading his silk sheathed legs, and running his hand over his own chest.

Tsuzuki procured the tube of lubricant from the bedside table and knelt on the bed before him, gripping his sides with burning hands and coaxing Hisoka to turn over onto his knees. He pulled up the gauzy material covering his bottom and parted his cheeks, running now slick fingers between them and teasing the puckered flesh of his entrance.

“You look so hot,” Tsuzuki whispered, leaning over Hisoka’s ear as he worked his fingers inside of him. “I can’t even begin to describe how much you’ve turned me on tonight, Hisoka. It’s simply unreal.”

Hisoka thrust back onto his fingers with a moan, Tsuzuki reaching around with his other hand to find his lover’s arousal returning at full force.

“I’m ready. I want you inside me,” Hisoka gasped, his knees sliding apart further.

Tsuzuki removed his fingers, gripping a stockinged thigh.

“Are you going to wear the other outfit for me sometime, too?” Tsuzuki teased, as he began to grind himself against Hisoka.

“Yes,” Hisoka whimpered. “I’ll do anything you want. Just fuck me, already.”

“I like it when you give me orders, too,” Tsuzuki said, pulling Hisoka back by the hips and thrusting inside him.

“Then move,” Hisoka demanded, wriggling his rear upwards impatiently.

“You look so fucking amazing,” Tsuzuki groaned, with a frenzied push forward that nearly made Hisoka’s knees buckle beneath him. He gripped the gartered part of Hisoka’s legs, his thumbs digging into the bare flesh above them, pumping into him with fervor as the boy moaned and braced himself for the thrusts, palms flat on the headboard above him.

Tsuzuki slowed his movements, rolling his hips and savoring the sensation of sliding in and out of his lover, as he reached around his waist and pulled his torso upward until Hisoka’s weight rested on his knees, his back pressed to Tsuzuki’s chest.

“Just look at how beautiful you are,” Tsuzuki murmured into his ear, one hand sliding over his body until it cradled his chin, turning his head towards the mirror hanging above the bedside drawer.

Tsuzuki met Hisoka’s eyes in the mirror before appreciating the erotic vision of the way they knelt together, Hisoka’s silky thighs straddled back over his own, the sheer, gauzy negligee untied and hanging back over his chest, his aroused member jutting out from the frilly edges of the pale material.

Tsuzuki focused on the hooded, mesmerized gaze Hisoka gave their reflection as he took the boy in his palm and plunged upward into the perfect heat and tightness engulphing him.

xxxx

Their bodies entwined tightly afterwards, Hisoka sighed and shifted, pulling away.

“Can I take these damned stockings off, already? They’re really starting to chafe,” Hisoka groaned.

“Wait,” Tsuzuki said, sliding down the mattress and lifting Hisoka’s leg into the air, placing it over his shoulder.

“You’re so incredible,” Tsuzuki said, marveling as he carefully pulled back the garter and began to slide the hose down Hisoka’s leg, tenderly kissing the red marks left by the elastic on the boy’s smooth flesh. Tsuzuki kneaded the tormented ring of skin, Hisoka murmuring with relief. “Thank you, Hisoka.”

He removed the other stocking with equal care, laughing.

“I think you’ve got a run in your stockings, cutie,” Tsuzuki said, fingering a little tear he’d left in the material with his fingernails. He leaned in and kissed the scowling boy tenderly.

“You really love me, don’t you?” Tsuzuki asked, looking at him as he pulled back.

“Of course I do, baka,” Hisoka said, flushing slightly, and looking away. “And you were right.”

“Right about what?” Tsuzuki asked, lying on his side and pulling Hisoka against him.

“I did feel kind of sexy,” Hisoka said, smiling slightly and nuzzling back into Tsuzuki’s chest, as Tsuzuki turned his face to the side and kissed him again.

I have received several new reviews to a Sirius/Remus story that I wrote way back in January 2006 over the past two days. Wonder why all the interest in that particular piece all the sudden? Oh, well, that certainly isn't a complaint! ^u^ It's a really nice feeling to know that one of my R/S stories is still being read.

Yami fic: "Reward", prt. 1

2007-07-01T20:13:05Z

rating: eventual NC-17 (this part: PG-13)
summary:In "Punishment", Tsuzuki indulged Hisoka's kink. Now it's Hisoka's turn to make his partner's fantasy come true.

“I never thought I’d see the day when I was docking Hisoka’s pay for structural damages,” Tatsumi said with a heavy sigh. “I mark it up to your being a bad influence, Tsuzuki.”

“What? Why are you dragging me into this? I’m innocent for once!” Tsuzuki said, receiving only a suspiciously raised eyebrow from his supervisor.

“Stupid Terazuma should really be the one getting in trouble,” Tsuzuki grumbled under his breath. “Stupid, dog monster turning jerk.”

Hisoka remained silent during the exchange, a curious, wicked little smile on his face. Tsuzuki had been delighted, of course, at his partner’s recently revealed penchant for kinky behavior, but he still felt a bit unnerved, wondering what was going on in his lover’s mind.

Over the past week, he never new whether to expect tender lovemaking or a heated, aggressive attack when they were alone. Well, he knew one thing: Hisoka definitely kept him on his toes.

Hisoka seemed to revel in having Tsuzuki take a dominant role in the bedroom. It made Tsuzuki happy to indulge the boy’s fantasies. He’d have never imagined during the years he’d quietly longed for his partner, that one day it would be Hisoka who encouraged him to explore such sensual possibilities in the bedroom.

But even with his growing confidence in private, which, to Tsuzuki’s pleased observation, had bled through to other aspects of the boy’s life and made him more at ease, there where still things that Kurosaki Hisoka feared deeply.

“Oh, Soka-chan! Yoo-hoo!” two petite blonde girls chanted in unison as the two men left Konoe’s office.

“No! What are they doing here?” Hisoka moaned, hiding behind his partner.

“We always come down after the first thaw. We just couldn’t wait to see you again!” Saya squealed, clapping her hands.

“How is our darling Tsuzuki?” Yuma cooed, as the two girls flung themselves at the dark haired shinigami, giggling.

Tsuzuki beamed, with a near-girlish giggle of his own, as he took the double assault good naturedly, nearly thrown off balance by their enthusiasm.

“Better than you could ever imagine,” Tsuzuki said with a broad grin.

“Is little Soka baby being good to you?” Saya asked with a knowing wink.

“He he, you bet,” Tsuzuki said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously at the loaded question, more or less designed to get him killed, in light of recent events.

“We’ve got presents!” Yuma said, whipping out an enormous bag from behind her back.

“I think it must be fate that Pink House has their annual clearance sale right at the end of winter, don’t you?” Saya gushed, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Hisoka’s eyes widened in blatant terror.

“Tsuzuki, I think I left the stove on this morning,” Hisoka with a strained squawk, attempting to dash around the little blondes blocking his escape route.

“Not so fast!” Yuma bellowed, her eyes flashing scarily as she grabbed the fleeing boy by the collar. “Don’t you want to see what we brought?” she added sweetly.

“Yeah, Soka-chan, we worked so hard to save up for all the pretty things we bought you,” Saya said, her lip trembling.

“We only did it because we love you so much,” Yuma chimed in, sniffling.

“Oh, Hisoka, you made them cry,” Tsuzuki whimpered, looking at his lover pleadingly.

Hisoka growled and sighed, trying to shake off Yuma’s tenacious death-grip, and glancing helplessly at three sets of watery eyes.

“All right, already!” Hisoka snapped, glaring at them. “I’ll look at the stuff. But I’m not wearing any of it!”

“Great! I new you’d be excited!” Yuma said, immediately snapping out of her mournful state.

“We have our presentation all set up in Watari’s lab!” Saya chirped as they dragged the struggling boy down the hall, Tsuzuki nearly skipping in pursuit.

Watari’s lab was all but unrecognizable as the foursome walked into the room, lavish hot pink bolts of silk draping the walls, bright spot lights spinning dizzy patterns over the floor, and techno music blasting loud enough to make teeth rattle.

“I’d been meaning to redecorate,” Watari said with a grin, as he took in the pair’s shocked looks, his hair pulled up with bows of lavender silk in high plaits upon his head. “Isn’t it marvelous?”

Hisoka was crammed down into an office chair by the girls and wheeled over to one of the silk curtains.

“Tsuzuki, you’re dead,” Hisoka muttered.

“What did I do?” Tsuzuki whimpered.

“We wanted to give a fashion show, but we couldn’t find any models,” Saya said with a pout.

“Yeah, Wakaba had almost talked Hijime-chan into it, but he wasn’t your size,” Yuma said, shaking her head.

“Thank God for small mercies,” Tsuzuki said with a shudder, as the girls pulled aside the silk drape, revealing the first mannequin.

“First, we have the tarty Lolita,” Yuma announced, waving her arm at the aptly titled attire.

“Here, we see the super ruffly , ultra short skirt, perfect for those little panty shots and accentuating those long, pale legs,” Saya said, playfully bouncing the bunched lace of the crinoline hem.

Hisoka squirmed, his discomfort in no way aided by the dropped jaw of his nearby partner.

“And next,” Yuma said, pulling away the next curtain, “We have the super fetish maid, with neko ears!”

“Again following with the theme of short skirts and barely there panties!” Saya said. “An outfit that just screams, ‘What can I do for you, master?’ “

Hisoka’s face burned, his arms crossed tightly across his chest, his gaze distracted by the strange wave of emotions he was sensing from beside him. Is Tsuzuki drooling? he thought with horror.

“And for the finale, we save the best for last with the super naughty nightie of seduction!” Yuma said, as Saya pulled away the final curtain.

There was no mistaking the lust of Tsuzuki’s reaction to the final get-up, Hisoka discovered to his dismay, gazing with agonized awkwardness at a gauzy white baby doll negligee that was completely open at the front, save for a tiny ribbon, and sloped back at the hips to reveal lacy thong panties with garters and white silk stockings.

The wave of lust and excitement emanating from his partner was enough to make him feel faint, his mind not even registering the girls’ enthused commentary, as his breaths became shorter. Unable to take it any longer, he jumped to his feet and left the room.

“Hmm, wonder why he ran off like that?” Tsuzuki said, tearing his eyes away from the lingerie at last.

“Oh, please. Even I could read your mind just now,” Watari said, shaking his pigtails.

xxxx

“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki asked, peeking his head into their office.

“Leave me alone. Can’t you see I’m busy?” Hisoka said, hunched over a piece of paper and scribbling across it with his pen. Tsuzuki stepped inside, looking over his shoulder.

“It looks to me like you’re just drawing two men carrying a large banana,” Tsuzuki said, cocking his head curiously to the side. Hisoka muttered something about Saya, Yuma, and being impaled with a katana blade, before scrunching up the paper in his fist and tossing it aside.

“What do you even want? Besides -- besides,” Hisoka trailed off, flushing, his hands shaking.

“Besides?” Tsuzuki asked in confusion.

“Besides making me dress up like a girl,” Hisoka groaned, swiveling around in his chair with an accusing look.

“Who said I --,” Tsuzuki began, palms up innocently.

“Then would you mind explaining this?” Hisoka said, pulling out a Pink House catalog that had been tucked under the clutter of Tsuzuki’s desk.

“Everyone gets junk mail,” Tsuzuki said weakly, swallowing hard.

“Oh, right, everyone gets junk mail,” Hisoka mocked, flipping open the booklet. “Junk mail where the outfits Saya and Yuma just brought are circled with little hearts.”

“All right, you caught me,” Tsuzuki said, looking at the carpet. “They were going to buy something anyway, so I just thought it might be fun if I picked them out this time.”

“I’m not a girl, Tsuzuki,” Hisoka said with a frown. “I don’t wear lace, skirts, pink ribbons, silk stockings, or,” he paused, blushing deeply, “panties.”

“I know,” Tsuzuki said with a shrug. “I just think it would be kind of hot if you did.”

Hisoka fumed, staring him down.

“Not all the time!” Tsuzuki said defensively, starting to pout. “Just like, every now and then, when we’re alone and no one else can see you.”

Hisoka turned his nose up, looking away.

“And it’s not because I think you’re a girl or anything like that, I swear. I just -- I just think it would be kind of hot because you’d be doing it for me,” Tsuzuki said, whimpering. “And you’d look so damned sexy.”

Hisoka remained silent, though his gaze had fallen to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” Tsuzuki said. “I’m not asking you to do anything, and I never expected you to. But you wanted me to explain, and I did.”

“It’s okay, baka. Let’s just get back to work, okay?” Hisoka said quietly.

Part Two

Has anyone seen two lost fishies?

2007-06-21T03:46:44Z

Okay, this is weird and depressing.
I have a large fountain in my front yard, where we've always kept goldfish. I finally bought myself a lovely little koi nearly two years ago (Rose Lily) and have delighted in watching her grow to be nearly a foot long, outgrowing her two goldfish roomies considerably.
So you can imagine my surprise when my father went to feed them this morning to find that she and one of her friends have disappeared. How exactly does one lose a fish? My remaining calico goldfish looks traumatized and dazed (even for a fish).

What the hell happened to them? T_T Their size, and the height and depth of the fountain bowl doesn't seem like it would make them an easy target for predators. But the only alternative would be to consider that someone was mean enough and determined enough to sneak into my yard and catch them while leaving no other traces of trespass, and I'm already upset enough than to spend much time considering such a scenario.

Better news...I'm working on something longer than a one-shot for Gravi, that I think I'll actually finish. *fingers crossed*

Yami fic and zoology fangirling...

2007-06-18T03:00:32Z

This is so cool! The first giant manta ray to be born in captivity, plus, a new species discovered in Indonesia:
Now that's one big baby!
Sorry, stuff like this fascinates the heck out of me. ^u^

Anyhoo, here is the very NC-17 conclusion to "Punishment":

“Good morning, Hisoka,” Tsuzuki called as his partner entered the hotel lobby. “Ready to go home?”

Hisoka gave a short grunt, not meeting the other man’s eyes, shoving his hands deeply in his pockets and stalking out ahead of him.

So he’s just going to act like nothing happened? Hisoka thought to himself as he flung open the glass door and walked out to the sidewalk. He couldn’t keep his mind from the previous evening in Tsuzuki’s room, when the childish struggle after their argument over Tsuzuki’s spending habits had taken a most unexpected turn. He blushed deeply, remembering the thrill he’d gotten from Tsuzuki’s suddenly dominant nature and the way the man had held him still and teased him. Hisoka usually feared not being in control, but to submit to a man so powerful, a man he secretly admired and trusted…

“Hisoka?” Tsuzuki said, breaking him from his thoughts. “Um -- you’re going the wrong way. We were going to go around back so we could transport without anyone seeing us, right?”

Hisoka noted his surroundings, realizing that he’d walked rather quickly towards the side of the small café next door.

“Right,” Hisoka said, keeping his gaze on the sidewalk and turning around.

“Oh, wow, I wish we could stop and eat before we went back,” Tsuzuki said longingly, glancing in the window of the restaurant. “Remember the breakfast we had here yesterday? It was so good.”

Hisoka glanced with annoyance at his partner’s wide-eyed, hopeful expression.

“Maybe we could have if you hadn’t splurged on those damned expensive cookies,” Hisoka spat out irritably before he could think, and froze as Tsuzuki’s gaze met his.

“I thought that issue had pretty much been laid to rest, Hisoka,” Tsuzuki said firmly, in a way that made Hisoka’s heart beat faster. Hisoka tore his eyes away, pushing past the taller man and stomping back the way he had came.

“You’re the one who really deserved punishment,” Hisoka grumbled. “I wasn’t the one who spent all of our money.”

Tsuzuki said nothing, and followed. Hisoka sped up deliberately, leaving him a few paces behind as he strode back in front of the hotel building.

As he neared the hedge that lined the side of the building, an object caught his eye. Glancing back to find Tsuzuki ambling slowly behind him, he quickly snatched the small box he found nestled in the bushes with a look of amazement, and shoved it into his jacket before turning the corner.

“Good work,” Tatsumi said, after the partners gave their account of their latest case in Chief Konoe’s office. “I’ll be expecting the written report by tomorrow.”

Hisoka smiled to himself, feeling the edge of the box press into his chest beneath the jacket. He’d played over the possibilities the object in question allowed him in his mind, and had reached a decision.

“Oh, Chief Konoe, we brought you back something sweet like you asked,” Hisoka said, glancing at Tsuzuki from the corner of his eye as he presented his boss with the cookies. Hisoka reveled in the slack jawed look of shock, as his partner recognized the box in question, with a feeling of smug satisfaction.

Chief Konoe had barely gotten out a reply of thanks before he and Tatsumi were treated to a most curious display of behavior from their employees. Hisoka swiftly ducked from where his partner lunged for him, and darted out of the door with the older man in quick pursuit, leaving the other two men to look at each other in bewildered confusion.

“You sneaky little bastard!” Tsuzuki bellowed, as he chased Hisoka through the busy front office, weaving around a startled Watari, and nearly knocking Wakaba to the floor.

Terazuma Hijime was having an awful day. The alarm hadn’t woken him, he hadn’t had time for a shower, and when he’d quickly glanced in the refrigerator to find something quick he could wolf down on the way, he’d discovered nothing inside that did not have a week’s worth of green mold. Not to mention he’d even considered calling in after the humiliation he’d suffered the previous day when Wakaba happened upon the cache of unsent love letters tucked away in his desk drawer, while looking for a pen.

Muttering to himself, and quickly going over the excuses he’d stayed up half the night concocting to explain away her discovery, he scarcely even noticed the small blonde boy barreling towards him with a look of desperation as he entered the door. It barely even registered, as said small form nearly crashed into him. And he wasn’t sure he comprehended, as the green eyed boy gave a breathless apology, placing as quick peck on his cheek and scurrying out of the way as he transformed.

Hisoka whistled to himself, and calmly, slowly opened the door to reveal the one who had been pounding upon it, nearly an hour later back at his apartment.

He tried very hard to conceal the look of triumphant amusement at the bruised and disheveled form of his fuming partner waiting outside. Really, he did.

“Hisoka,” Tsuzuki said, with a tone that was chillingly even despite his obvious anger. “You’ve been a very naughty boy today.”

“Served you right,” Hisoka said, meeting his gaze unwaveringly. “You can’t always get your way. Deal with it.”

Tsuzuki strode into the room, shutting the door behind him before grabbing Hisoka’s slender wrist and jerking him towards him.

“So you’re not going to make this any easier, I take it?” Tsuzuki asked, looking down at him, eyes dark with starvation and need.

“Never,” Hisoka managed to gasp, before Tsuzuki crushed his mouth with a searing, ravenous kiss. Hisoka wrenched back, grabbing Tsuzuki’s tie and dragging him back towards the low futon in the corner of the room. “I want you while you’re still hungry.”

Tsuzuki moaned as he was pulled down with force onto the sprawled form of his partner. Taking control, he caught both of Hisoka’s wrists and held them over his head, straddling the boy’s narrow hips.

“What am I going to do with you?” Tsuzuki asked, looking the panting boy up and down as if he didn’t know where to start.

“Teach me a lesson?” Hisoka asked mockingly, a little smirk pulling at his lips.

“You really want me to --?” Tsuzuki asked soberly, his eyes questioning. Hisoka shushed him, with an abrupt nod, not wanting to break the spell of their little game.

“You really like it when I boss you around, don’t you?” Tsuzuki asked with a grin.

“Baka,” Hisoka chastised, annoyed once more at the break in character, and squirmed.

“Sorry,” Tsuzuki whispered, earning a glare before clearing his throat and gripping Hisoka’s wrists tighter. “Let’s see, how should I punish your impertinence?”

Hisoka rolled his eyes as it became apparent after a pause that Tsuzuki really was at a loss instead of just teasing. Struggling against his constraint, he lifted his head and whispered in Tsuzuki’s ear.

“Oh my, that’s really kinky, Hisoka,” Tsuzuki said, his eyes widening, then clouding with lust, earning him another impatient squirm from his captive.

“You were better at this last night,” Hisoka grumbled, then yelped with surprise as Tsuzuki released his wrists and grasped his shoulders firmly, forcing him onto his stomach.

“No, I don’t think I will take suggestions, delicious as yours are,” Tsuzuki said, his voice taking on the silken timbre that had delighted Hisoka so much the previous evening. “I have my own ideas.”

Hisoka trembled with anticipation, feeling both nervous and excited at what his partner might have in mind.

“You know, last night’s little punishment obviously didn’t have much effect,” Tsuzuki said, his breath warm against Hisoka’s ear as he pressed into his back. “And not only that, it left me unsatisfied, too.”

Tsuzuki pushed up Hisoka’s shirt, fingers slowly stroking up the boy’s spine as he pulled it off over his head, catching his arms in the sleeves and binding them beneath their combined weight.

“You obviously want something,” Tsuzuki said tauntingly, one hand snaking around to cup the boy through his jeans. “So I think it’s only fit that I make you earn it after the way you behaved, don’t you?”

“What do you want me to do?” Hisoka gasped, bucking slightly as Tsuzuki touched him.

“Anything I say,” Tsuzuki whispered, biting Hisoka’s earlobe lightly and making him moan with desire.

“Anything,” Hisoka agreed with a desperate, mesmerized murmur.

Tsuzuki rolled off and released him, sitting back on the small bed. Hisoka raised up, flushed and perplexed, looking at him uncertainly.

“Strip,” Tsuzuki said simply, watching him with a lust laden gaze.

Hisoka stood awkwardly, his sudden freedom from the confinement of Tsuzuki’s weight and touch shocking his system. But as he turned his eyes to his partner, he felt once more the indescribable ecstasy of being under the other man’s control, as he unhurriedly shed his clothes and left his lean body bare before the heat of Tsuzuki’s watchful stare.

Tsuzuki’s punishment of the boy was quite calculated and aptly applied at that moment, as the older man refused to say or do anything but take in the sight of the self-conscious, naked boy before him at his leisure. Hisoka blushed and shifted his weight from foot to foot, as Tsuzuki reclined with all the casualness of a spectator, violet eyes burning over exposed flesh, taking him in inch by inch with his gaze.

“Baka,” Hisoka whispered, his cheeks burning.

“Turn to the side, and lean slightly on that chair,” Tsuzuki ordered, ignoring his complaint. Hisoka felt near tears at the humiliation, but strangely had never felt more alive, loving and loathing his treatment at the same time in a way he could not describe.

Tsuzuki murmured his approval, his eyes trailing down to the curve of the boy’s rear, and began to unbutton his trousers. Hisoka whimpered with frustration as he saw the man begin to pleasure himself, leaving him standing there, cold and untouched.

“Don’t you want to touch me?” Hisoka finally blurted out, his face burning. Tsuzuki ignored him, Hisoka feeling a shockwave of desire as he peeked at the older man’s now exposed erection, fully sporting a painful one of his own.

“I -- I could touch you,” Hisoka suggested, squirming in agony and unconsciously rubbing himself against the back of the chair.

Tsuzuki paused in consideration, before sliding his feet to the floor and sitting at the edge of the bed.

“Explain,” Tsuzuki said with a smirk. Hisoka gaped at him.

“Ex--,” he began to question.

“Tell me what you want to do,” Tsuzuki said, spreading his legs and leaning back on his hands, presenting Hisoka with an unfettered view.

“Let me touch you. Please,” Hisoka begged, starting to turn towards him.

“I didn’t give you permission to move,” Tsuzuki said. “Continue.”

“I -- I want --,” Hisoka hissed with dissatisfaction. “I want you to let me do that.”

“Do what?” Tsuzuki asked.

“Pleasure you,” Hisoka said through grinding teeth. “I want to. Please.”

“Well, since you asked so politely, I guess I can allow that,” Tsuzuki said with a smirk. “Permission granted.”

Hisoka crossed over to him with a tense hobble, gingerly descending to his knees at Tsuzuki’s feet. Glancing up timidly, he began to cautiously explore, placing his fingers on Tsuzuki’s weeping member.

Emboldened by the other man’s pleasured moan, he took him in his hand and began to stroke him firmly. Tsuzuki gasped, thrusting into his fist, as Hisoka gazed at the pulsing organ in his grip, fingertips grazing the pearl of pre-come at its tip.

Hisoka licked his lips, his heart beating faster, as he hesitantly swiped the head with his tongue and tasted him. Tsuzuki cried out with surprise.

“Yes, do that again,” Tsuzuki said, his hands gripping the boy’s shoulders tightly.

Hisoka complied, licking the head of Tsuzuki’s cock with fervor at the command. Hisoka felt Tsuzuki’s fascination with watching his darting tongue, and the heady rush of power he made the other man feel, increasing his own enjoyment of the act with an added element of vivid, vicarious sensation.

“Suck me,” Tsuzuki demanded with a raspy whisper that made Hisoka’s mouth water, as he obeyed, wrapping his lips around him and taking him into his mouth.

Taking in as much as he could handle, his own saliva lubricating the glide of the fingers which still grasped the base of Tsuzuki’s cock, he began to bob his head and savor the warm flesh he guided back and forth across his tongue.

His mind raced in disbelief at his current situation, unbelievably turned on at the thought that he was kneeling, naked and sucking his partner’s cock like a wanton whore, giving in to the other man’s demands. If this was how “punishment” made him feel, he’d be certain to misbehave more often.

He fought as he felt the strong hands on his shoulders try to pry him away, a whining sound deep in his throat as he was pulled so soon from his feast and forced to look up at Tsuzuki, whose face was flushed.

“I think you’ve more than earned a reward, so let’s stop before I explode,” Tsuzuki said breathlessly, a gentle smile on his face.

Hisoka stared at him curiously as he was pulled up, and into Tsuzuki’s arms.

Tsuzuki slid back and guided him into the bed beside him.

“In answer to your earlier question. God, yes, I want to touch you,” Tsuzuki murmured, kissing him deeply, his hands feverishly roaming over Hisoka’s naked body as he ground against him.

Hisoka moaned with relief as Tsuzuki took his long neglected member into his hand.

“It felt so good in your mouth,” Tsuzuki murmured, stroking him. “You loved sucking my cock, didn’t you, Hisoka?”

“Yes,” Hisoka moaned, his hip bucking and seeking more friction.

“I want to fuck you,” Tsuzuki whispered, licking a trail along the boy’s jaw. Hisoka gasped and squirmed in his grip, Tsuzuki’s mouth traveling progressively lower, placing hot kisses to his throat. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Oh, yes!” Hisoka cried, nearing climax as skilled fingers caressed him.

Hisoka relished the sweet torture as Tsuzuki dipped his head to bite at his nipple, his form contorting as the languid strokes finally milked him of his release.

Bonelessly relaxed and sensitive, he shivered as Tsuzuki traveled down his body, grazing his flaccid member with the side of his face as his hands scooped his rear up from the mattress.

Tsuzuki spread his cheeks with sure fingers, brushing his entrance with a slow, circular motion, before Hisoka cried out at the unexpected feeling of a warm, wet tongue.

“Tsuzuki!” Hisoka panted, as his partner swiped wetly at his entrance, his tongue leisurely dragging upward, over his balls and past Hisoka‘s already re-awakening member, to lap at the essence splashed across the boy’s taut belly.

“So sweet,” Tsuzuki murmured, kissing his navel and nipping tenderly at the flesh of his side. Hisoka hummed with pleasure, lying limp and docile, and enjoying the way the older man played with his body. “Say my name again, like a good boy.”

“Oh, Tsuzuki,” Hisoka purred at the loving attentions of Tsuzuki’s fingers and mouth.

Tsuzuki licked his finger, probing the tight ring of muscle he’d been teasing with a experimental push.

“I don’t know if this will be good enough, pet. Do you have anything --?” Tsuzuki asked, looking up at him.

Hisoka sat up reluctantly, and fumbled through his bedside drawer, presenting Tsuzuki with tube of hand cream.

“Handy location for that,” Tsuzuki said teasingly, Hisoka not quite meeting his eyes. “You’re even more wayward than I thought. Do you keep that there for the reasons I think you do?”

Hisoka said nothing, fidgeting, and releasing a tiny breath as he was caught off guard by Tsuzuki once more pressing him down and kissing him.

“Have you been touching yourself, Hisoka, when you’re alone?” Tsuzuki whispered, uncapping the lotion with his free hand and squeezing it onto his fingers.

“No,” Hisoka whimpered in small voice, as Tsuzuki threw the bottle aside and reached down to lift one of his legs.

“I don’t believe you,” Tsuzuki said, leaning down to bite his thigh as he folded the boy’s knee back towards his chest. He smoothed the slick fingers of his other hand once more over puckered flesh, easing his finger inside. “I’d love to know what you fantasize about. Should I make you tell me?”

“Th -- this,” Hisoka hissed, as Tsuzuki added another finger inside him, stretching him. Tsuzuki captured his lips once more at the confession, stilling his shuddering form as he prepared him.

“Are you ready?” Tsuzuki asked, placing Hisoka’s leg over his shoulder and guiding himself toward his passage.

“Take me,” Hisoka pleaded, as Tsuzuki pulled out his fingers, and grasped his hip, pushing himself inside.

Hisoka grunted at the sensation of being stretched and filled, Tsuzuki digging his nails into his thigh and crying out.

Hisoka felt his inner walls clamp around the intrusion as Tsuzuki made an almost visible effort to still his hips.

“Do it. Fuck me,” Hisoka said, huffing heavily as he got used to the pressure.

Tsuzuki panted with exertion as he began to thrust steadily, sweat pouring down his face and eyes closed in ecstasy. Hisoka watched him in awe, feeling that he’d never looked sexier than at that moment, as he dominated the younger man in a way that he had only dreamed of.

His vision blurred for a moment, and he could only feel the overwhelming sensation of Tsuzuki driving into him, as he writhed with unimaginable elation.

“There! Please, harder,” Hisoka moaned, his hands gripping the iron bed frame above him tightly.

Tsuzuki pulled his hoisted leg up even further, almost turning him sideways as he plunged into his body with renewed enthusiasm.

Hisoka’s mind was a tangled mess of nearly incoherent thought as he tried to focus on the excitement of being claimed so entirely by the powerful, gorgeous man he was so filled with longing for. He grasped at every detail he could register in this state, from the way his small futon creaked and banged against the wall, to the hungered, half-lidded gaze above him that made him feel so wanted and desirable for the first time in his life. He climaxed hard, with a cry that left him hoarse, as he continued to moan softly while Tsuzuki rode out his pleasure.

Tsuzuki’s pounding became more erratic, as he jerked forward, nearly pressing Hisoka’s knee completely back, as he came deep within him.

Hisoka’s leg slid from Tsuzuki’s shoulder, as the older man wound his arms around him, his spent member still inside him as he gasped for breath. Hisoka possessed his mouth with his own, finding it cool from indrawn breath, and feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and liberation. Tsuzuki kissed him back passionately, before rolling of him with a contented sigh.

“I never imagined it would happened quite like -- that,” Tsuzuki said with a small smile. Hisoka nestled into his side, too exhausted to even think of cleaning up the mess they’d made just yet, and too sated to bring himself to move.

“Yeah, me neither,” Hisoka murmured, adding softly, “I liked it though.” Tsuzuki kissed the top of his head, pulling him closer.

“So I guess with all that tension resolved between us, we’re not going to bicker nearly as much,” Tsuzuki said, grinning. Hisoka raised an eyebrow, turning his face upward.

“If anything, I think this will make me pick fights with you more often,” Hisoka said, his green eyes flashing with mischief.

“Oh,” Tsuzuki said, laughing somewhat uneasily, “Right, I guess it will.”

“One day, I might just turn the tables, and teach you a lesson,” Hisoka said with a yawn as he drifted into a calm, dreamless sleep.

“I look forward to it,” Tsuzuki whispered to the slumbering boy before closing his own eyes.

New Yami fic: Punishment, prt. 1

2007-06-15T16:54:32Z

A rather cracky, silly and naughty little thing I've been working on, inspired by a prompt.

pairing: TsuSoka (shocking, I know)
rating: NC-17
summary: A little heated bickering turns onto something else entirely when there are sweets at stake.
warnings: A bit of mild dominance/submission kinkiness.

"You're so irresponsible! I can't believe you did this again after all the work I did trying to work out a budget for you," Hisoka yelled, slamming his fist against the bureau in their hotel room.

"I'm sorry, Hisoka! I didn't want to buy the cookies, honest! But the little girls selling them kept insisting, and telling me how they needed the money for a trip, and how no one else would buy them, and then they started to cry --" Tsuzuki rambled, whimpering pitifully like a lost puppy.

"I don't want to hear it," Hisoka grumbled, turning his gaze away from his partner's pathetic display of emotion. He hated the damnable puppy act, and the apologies. Why couldn't Tsuzuki straighten up and act like a man for once, Hisoka thought with a scowl.

It seemed like they had been fighting non-stop on this latest assignment, and all Tsuzuki did was curl up with his tail between his legs as usual and make Hisoka feel like the bad guy. He spared his partner a reluctant glance, and shook his head. Despite all of his childish behavior and slacker attitude towards his job, Hisoka had a grudging admiration for his partner. Tsuzuki was the most powerful shinigami in existence, so much so that Hisoka could feel the raw energy and strength radiate from him when he confronted an enemy in their line of work. It was the kind of power he longed for, and when he saw it in action, it filled him with a sensation he had no words to describe.

"I've had enough of this crap," Hisoka said with disgust, grabbing the box of cookies in question from Tsuzuki's clutches. "I'm going to talk to Tatsumi about cutting you off entirely from any access to our finances."

"But Hisoka --" Tsuzuki whined, his eyes falling on the snatched sweets.

"No. It's the only way," Hisoka said firmly, turning towards the door.

"Hisoka?" Tsuzuki called in a small voice.

"What is it now?" Hisoka asked, turning back with a sigh.

"Um, can I at least have the cookies?" Tsuzuki asked hopefully.

"You've got to be joking me," Hisoka said, grinding his teeth, a vicious gleam in his eyes. "There is absolutely no way in hell I'm letting you have these cookies."

Expecting another whimpering protest from his shamed partner, Hisoka was nearly caught off guard as Tsuzuki's demeanor turned almost feral as he dove for the box in his hands. Hisoka jumped out of the way, only to lose his balance as Tsuzuki met the ground and grabbed his leg, dragging him down with him. The scuffle that ensued was as violent as it was ridiculous, the two men fighting fiercely over possession of the box with matched stubborn determination.

A nasty bite, various scratches, and split lip later, the battling partners reached the pinnacle of their struggle as Hisoka rolled to his feet and made for the open window, dangling the cookies tauntingly from the three story drop.

"You wouldn't," were the only angered words Tsuzuki managed to choke out before watching his hard fought for prize released glibly from Hisoka's fingers.

Hisoka's triumphant smirk faded, and he shivered with anticipation as the older man towered over him in fury. The tension between them crackled with electricity as darkened violent eyes bore into his.

"You dropped my cookies out the window," Tsuzuki said with disbelief, his hands twitching at his sides as he closed in on Hisoka, pinning him to the wall with his body.

"So? What are you going to do about it?" Hisoka asked challengingly.

Hisoka gave a surprised yelp as Tsuzuki grabbed him forcefully and flung him face first across the nearby bed. He tried to spring back up, only to find the breath knocked from him as the other man's form fell upon him. Subdued for the moment, he gave a muffled cry as Tsuzuki sat up and pulled him across his lap, feeling the other man's large hands pin him down as he struggled.

"Tsuzuki, let go of me!" Hisoka cried out indignantly, his anger swelling further as the other man laughed at him.

"Oh, no. I've got you where I want you now," Tsuzuki purred over him. "That was a very nasty trick you pulled Hisoka. I think you should be punished."

Hisoka loathed himself as much as his captor, as the smug words sent a tingling sensation down his spine. He'd never been more turned on, and he flushed with embarrassment at his situation. To his ever lasting mortification, his current position made it impossible for his partner not to notice.

"Oh, I think you want to be punished," Tsuzuki whispered, leaning close, and grazing his partner's arousal teasingly with his knee. "Yes, I'd say you're all in favor of the idea."

"Tsuzuki, please," Hisoka moaned, his hips bucking involuntarily at the contact. One of Tsuzuki's hands loosened from its grip, giving his ass a firm squeeze.

"Please what, Hisoka? How do you think I should punish you? I think you're begging for a spanking," Tsuzuki said, kneading him through his jeans.

"Oh, yes," Hisoka blurted out against his will, moaning from the delicious friction as he ground against his captor's lap.

"You're such a bad boy, aren't you?" Tsuzuki taunted, sliding his fingers beneath the waist band of Hisoka's jeans and boxers. "I think it would be letting you off too easy to leave your pants on, don't you?"

Before Hisoka could even give a non-sensical, lust ridden response, Tsuzuki had worked open his fly and was pulling down his jeans.

Hisoka felt indescribable humiliation, mingled heavily with relief and pleasure, as Tsuzuki laid his bottom bare for inspection.

"Hmm, I can’t wait to spank this cute little thing raw," Tsuzuki said with a growl. Hisoka squirmed impatiently, as the first hard smack fell across his naked flesh, then another.

Tsuzuki set up a swift pace, loud smacks and groans of pain and pleasure resonating throughout the room as he spanked the boy. Hisoka gasped and hissed at the sting of a particularly hard slap, grinding his groin into Tsuzuki's thigh.

"Alright, I think you've learned your lesson for now," Tsuzuki said, releasing his partner and rolling him unceremoniously onto his back. The chagrined young man gave a cry as the mattress met his sore bottom, glaring up at Tsuzuki, his arousal only somewhat softened.

"You -- you bastard," Hisoka spat with frustration, as Tsuzuki straightened his tie and stood from the bed.

"And that's what makes this a punishment," Tsuzuki said with a satisfied smirk at Hisoka's condition. "If you want a reward, don't come between me and my cookies."

Hisoka muttered and cursed to himself, pulling his pants back up and wincing from both the pain of his rear and from his delayed gratification. Catching himself fleetingly wondering if he could still rescue the cookies for the mentioned reward, he sighed with self-loathing, slamming the door behind him as he left the room.

Part Two

Gravi fic: Words Unspoken

2007-06-13T23:23:35Z

For christabel_rose, to thank you for all the lovely things you've sent me. ^u~
rating: soft R
Yuki/Shuichi fluff:

Yuki, why are you always telling me to shut up?

Eiri was at a loss, again. Shuichi had gone on for two hours now, and he just seemed to be warming up. Eiri stared at his computer screen and sighed, wondering if he’d ever catch the train of thought that had slowly started to chug about two minutes before the brat barreled into his study. It seemed to be growing smaller by the minute.

He couldn’t help but worry about the brat in some distracted way as he rambled. Geez, that kid had no insight into human nature. The way he misread, or entirely read to much into, every little thing. It was not entirely unlike how he once was himself, before he realized how entirely self-centered people were. Very little they did was truly motivated by anything to do with him. Everyone was in their own little bubble, only looking out to see how everyone reacted to them. He’d been a lot better off since he’d realized that no one really gave a damn. But there was no sense in trying to explain that to Shuichi. He was just too young. He’d have to learn that one for himself, and damned if he was going to waste his time trying to make the brat understand.

“And -- and it really hurt my feelings, too!” Shuichi exclaimed with an adorable little pout that Eiri always found distracting.

Sometimes Eiri would just sit back and marvel at the candid way his guileless lover expressed himself, wondering what it must be like to have so little shame. Would it be liberating to bleed all over the place like that, or did it require some degree of brain damage to be so thoroughly unaware of what an ass you’re making of yourself? Eiri smirked at this thought, but it faded when he realized he’d been no different once upon a time. No, it wasn’t stupidity. It was the trust he used to have…

All right. Time’s up, idiot. I would have told anyone else in the world to shut it an hour and forty-five minutes ago.

“Would you shut the hell up so I can get back to work?”

oOoOo

Yuki, why do you never act like you miss me when I’m gone?

Finally, Eiri thought with irritation, as Shuichi gave him the hundredth last goodbye kiss on his now chapped lips and the older man watched his lover’s pitiful, tearful face disappear into the hallway towards a waiting plane.

You’ll be all right, stupid. It’s only three weeks. Eiri wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or the kid, and was filled with that familiar, almost comforting feeling of self loathing.

Three weeks later, Eiri is nearly knocked to the floor in the same airport.

“Yuki! I missed you sooo much!” Shuichi wails, showering his face with snotty, teary kisses before earning a smack on the head.

“Come on, brat. Hurry up and get your stuff before I leave you here,” Eiri grumbles, letting Shuichi hold his hand as he leads him to the luggage carousel.

“Did you miss me, Yuki?” Shuichi asks coyly, sliding into his lap when they’re finally alone back at their apartment.

Did Eiri ever have the inclination, on the drive home, amidst the long winded and enthusiastic recount of Bad Luck’s tour to interrupt with his own comparatively unremarkable activities in said time? Did he feel even the fleeting need to share how many times he’d caught himself staring into space, cigarette burned to the filter, as he wondered if and why Shuichi would return to him?

Hell no. After all, one of them had to at least pretend to be strong, and it sure wasn’t going to be the whiny brat.

oOoOo

Yuki, why don’t you ever take me places?

“Aren’t you having fun, Yuki?” Shuichi asked again.

“No,” Eiri replied.

Eiri didn’t know how Shuichi could stand the places he drug the reluctant man to after endless cajoling, whining, sweet talk and manipulation.

His head swam as he tried to block out the endless buzzing and movement of the crowd. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of chaotic idiocy, and he longed for the control he felt in solitude.

It was bad enough to even be here as an anonymous cog in the public machine, but no, he always had to stand out, didn’t he? Fair hair, light brown eyes, pretty face -- he cursed the reflection he caught in the dizzying mirrored walls of the club.

Then there was the added curse of celebrity. Everyone knew who they were and licked their lips hungrily, wanting a piece of them. Half the room was wondering what on earth the cool Yuki Eiri, ladies’ man, saw in the diminutive male pop idol. The other half were the ones Eiri really feared, the ones who knew, who demanded to know with their disapproving glances, what in the world he had done to deserve Shuichi’s adoration.

Not a damned thing, he thought to himself, as Shuichi whimpered with disappointment as his lover dragged him back towards the car after only half an hour.

oOoOo

Yuki, why can’t you be more romantic?

“Ah, Yuki!” Shuichi wailed as he rode out a wave of pleasure atop the other man, Eiri grasping his hips firmly and guiding the boy down onto him.

There was a raw, tender vulnerability he felt, gazing up at that lean, well toned body as it arched above him, that sweet, wide eyed, innocent face at this moment twisted with lust. He wasn’t entirely sure why he found the greatest fulfillment of his life with possibly the least skilled lover he’d ever taken to his bed, but there was something about making love to Shuichi…

Making love, he thought, surprised at the way his own mind had chosen to word it. Yes, that was it.

oOoOo

Yuki, why don’t you ever say “I love you“?

“Yuki Eiri, you once said in one of your interviews that you felt that love was a useless emotion. Do you feel any differently now, in the context of your close and seemingly committed relationship with singer Shindou Shuichi?” the talk show host asked him, leaning over the arm of her chair casually, in an attempt to appear as if she were merely making conversation.

The smooth, controlled façade Eiri had invented, after a little coaching from his inferring brother-in-law, to deal with the unavoidable public eye, cracked.

“That’s personal,” Eiri growled, wondering briefly if the camera was picking up the way he was beginning to sweat, and fighting with every fiber of his being to find the will not to make a scene and flee the set like a temperamental child.

“Can you at least confirm that you’re in love with Shindou-san?” she pressed, making his blood boil. He felt a stabbing ache in his stomach as he gripped the chair arm.

“That’s -- personal,” Eiri gasped, wincing from the pain.

“I thought we agreed there would be no questions about Shuichi,” Eiri snarled, slamming the door to the TV station waiting room behind him, and digging through his pocket for the bottle of antacids he’d found himself a little too dependant on.

“My apologies, Yuki-sensei. I had no idea she would ask such a thing,” his agent said with a cowering bow that reminded him of Tohma’s lapdog at the record label.

Eiri entered the apartment with a sense of dread, knowing that Shuichi had been off for the day and had undoubtedly tuned in for the live broadcast. Expecting teary eyes and dramatic accusations, he was surprised at the calm, almost cheerful scene of Shuichi trying his best to prepare dinner, a glop of something he was at a loss to identify gracing the tip of his tiny upturned nose as he balanced his cell phone beneath his chin while mixing something in a bowl.

“No, I’m not upset or anything,” Shuichi explained to the caller, most likely Nakano-san. “That’s just the way it is. I’ve accepted it. He only stays with me because I ask him to, you know?”

Eiri cleared his throat, getting the attention of the boy who was clearly unaware of his presence. Shuichi gave a sheepish smile and ended the call.

“Um, I was hoping I’d be done before you got home,” Shuichi said. “Sorry about the mess.”

“Since when can you cook, moron?” Eiri asked.

“Since never, really,” Shuichi said with a shrug. “You just make it look so easy! But look here, I actually think I got it right!”

Shuichi sat the bowl aside and tugged him by the sleeve, making him sit at the table, and presenting him proudly with a plate of noodles and sloppily chopped vegetables.

“See? I already finished the main course! That’s desert in the bowl. It’s just powdered stuff from a box, but I didn’t want to get too ambitious on my first try,” Shuichi said, obviously pleased with himself despite his words.

“Bring me a beer?” Eiri asked, poking at the contents of his plate cautiously with his chopsticks.

“Sure thing!” Shuichi said with a grin, popping into the kitchen and coming back before he’d managed the first mouthful.

Shuichi said nothing, chewing on his lip and watching him with an intensity that would have made him laugh, had he the disposition for such displays, as he took his first bite. It was bland, but edible.

Shuichi resumed breathing, and beamed when Eiri gave a short nod, finally preparing himself a plate and joining him.

After dinner, Shuichi curled beside him with a content sigh as he watched the news.

“So you really liked it?” Shuichi asked again.

“I’ve had worse. Mika’s cooking sucks,” Eiri said, before trying to wash the aftertaste of poorly mixed powdered pudding from his mouth with a gulp of beer.

They sat in silence watching the weather report, as the words Eiri had heard Shuichi say on the phone came back to him. He looked down at the blissful boy snuggled beside him, who couldn’t care less about the news, but was just happy to be beside him, and sighed heavily.

“You know if anyone else asked me to do something I wouldn’t do it, right, brat?” Eiri murmured.

“What are you talking about, Yuki?” Shuichi asked sleepily, giving a stifled yawn.

“Nothing,” Eiri said. “Ready to go to bed?”

“Yes, Yuki,” Shuichi said and smiled, sitting up and stretching before standing on shaky legs and looking back at him. “And I know.”

Eiri looked at him with wonder as he followed him to the bedroom, wondering if the brat weren’t a little bit better at reading between the lines than he’d given him credit for.