Goodnight Kiss
Yosuke
PG-13 (I think... uh... yeah. PG-13 definately.)
General/Romance
AN: I guess we could call this one a "quickie" (sexual innuendo not intended). I wrote half of this story one day, stopped for about a month... then finished it within two hours. I was listening to Adema while writing the last half, as well, so if it lacks a little affection, blame Adema (j/k... don't sue, Adema). I'll also have you know I'm covered in doggy hair and drool, my eyes are about to drop, my back hurts, and it's 1:30 in the morning, so please go a little easy on me. I'm very uncomfortable right now, and it's hard to write when you're uncomfortable. But when the urge calls... YOU MUST OBEY!!!..... Alrighty then. Enjoy.
And Gravitation isn't mine. Not unless.... I murder Murakami in his sleep and steal it..... no, then I'd have to look like him and pretend to be him...... I could! No, wait... then I'd have to get a sex change.... ::raises eyebrows:: Hmmmmm.......
The knob to the door jingled violently once. A growl. The clink of metal and the sound of the air rushing in as Eiri Yuki entered his home. The living room was mildly warm, a slight chill brushing his arms where the sleeves had been rolled up. He noted the TV was on and the lights in the room were off.
"He'll go blind one day..." he muttered to himself as he shut the door and dropped his keys onto the end table by the couch. It was then that his eyes fell upon the sleeping form on the couch. Shuuichi was there, knees curled up to as far as they would go without holding them, and his arms entwined confusingly. It was obvious he was cold.
Eiri kept his eyes on him, standing straight. A little cut of his conscience caused a regretful feeling for shutting the door so loudly, as it might have woken the boy up. Cut of his conscience, through that ice skin... he was losing his sanity. He had to have been.
Unfortunately, the cut was growing wider, and he found himself approaching the side of the couch. His hand went to the thick blanket sitting folded neatly on the other edge of the furniture. With a flick, he spread the sheet over Shuuichi carefully and tucked it in. He noticed something in one of his curled fists. It was the remote controller to the TV. On the floor by the couch was a VHS box to a Nittle Grasper concert. Some limited edition crap, in Eiri's opinion, though he had always held some good respect for his brother-in-law as a keyboardist. Perhaps that singer of their's too, who looked far too much like Shuuichi to not be a sibling seperated at birth.
Eiri turned his head to look at the glowing TV set. The cameras showed Ryuuichi Sakuma running across a stage, strobe lights lighting his figure by volumes. A split-screen showed Noriko Ukai and Touma Seguchi hitting some anonymous music note at the same time... a pause.... then a blast of music. Eiri could almost feel the beat vibrating through the floor, even though the TV's volume was almost near mute.
"Techno..." Eiri said gruffly, shaking his head and turning back to Shuuichi. He was still sleeping by the looks of it. The novelist reached down and carefully pried the controller from Shuuichi's lazy fist. It came out with ease, and he set it on the opposite side of the couch. The boy shifted slightly, his head falling to the side a little more. Pink locks of hair brushed over his closed eyelids, and his mouth parted slightly. Eiri sighed and stood up straight again. The kid had probably been waiting up for him. It was pretty late at night. Eiri glanced at his watch. 12:14 in the morning. Shuuichi always waited up for him. Or at least tried. Half the time, he drifted off to sleep before he even got the chance to greet Eiri at the door. Then he would wake up the next morning and apologize a million times for not staying awake. Looks like he had taken a more helpful route by watching something loud and flashy. What better than hard-techno?
Eiri changed his mind and reached for the remote controller. Leaning it into the light of the TV to search for the right buttons, he turned off the VHS player, then the TV. He then tossed it onto the couch again and proceeded in walking away to his bedroom. But before he got three steps away, a tug at his shirt-tail made him stop and turn. Shuuichi's violet-blue eyes, dimmed by the lack of light, peered up at Eiri sleepily. He blinked slowly, fighting to keep his lids up as his fingers wrapped tighter around the end of the shirt.
"Sorry..." the singer half-whispered. Eiri said nothing, did nothing, but stare at the boy. "...meant to stay up..." Shuuichi continued, trying his hardest not to let go.
"Don't worry about it," Eiri said in a very affectionateless voice. Normal voice. Nothing was wrong. It made Shuuichi happy. Even in such a callous voice, too cold and hard to cut, the tone could make him so happy.
Shuuichi gave a small, lazy smile. His eyes drifted closed for a second, then he opened them again.
"G'night," Eiri said quickly and turned to walk away. He stepped out of reach of Shuuichi, causing the weak hand to fall to the floor over the side of the couch.
"Wait..." the pink-haired boy called out quietly. Eiri stopped once again and turned to face him. Bright eyes were about to drift closed again. "Can I... have... a goodnight kiss?" he asked with all the innocence he could muster in his half-asleep form.
The novelist sighed and said nothing. He made no movement back to the boy or towards the hallway.
"Please? Just a simpe... g'night... kiss..." Shuuichi drifted off, closing his eyes. In a few moments, he was asleep.
The blonde-haired man continued to watch the boy sleeping on the couch. The lack of light in the room casted dim shadows across Shuuichi's face, making his pink hair appear almost gray or purple.
Eiri stood dead-still in his spot, watching his lover and caught between staying and retreating to the solitude of his bedroom where he could sleep off his troubles. 'There's just one trouble that won't go away,' he thought to himself as he turned to face Shuuichi completely. 'And it has pink hair and terrible lyrics. I could slit his throat in his sleep and he'd still be here in the morning, apologizing for not staying up.' He smirked to himself. "Then he'll wanna have sex," he said aloud while approaching the couch.
Shuuichi shifted slightly.
Eiri knelt down beside the furniture, peering at Shuuichi's face. The boy was sound asleep. It'd take about five bull horns, each on a different note, to wake him now. And even when he woke up, he'd just roll over and put the pillow on his head, grumble, and go back to sleep.
That was, unless, there wasn't a .45 conducted by Mr. K pointed at the singer's temple.
'I'm going to have to put up with your noise for the rest of my life.' Eiri brushed back a few pink locks from Shuuichi's face and pressed his lips against the boy's gently. His eyes drifted closed and he remained motionless. A long silence ensued. A pleasant one. Some clock's ticking from the kitchen could just barely be heard.
Eiri recalled, in those few stretched moments, all the noise Shuuichi would actually make while they were home together. All remembered at once made it like an orchestra of different things he would say, or tunes he would sing, just because he was bored and wanted his Yuki's attention. If Shuuichi was in the living room watching a Nittle Grasper or Bad Luck concert on TV, he would sing along. Softly at first, so as to not disturb Eiri in his study, but then it would gradually crescendo into a nice fortissimo... until Eiri came out and threw something at him. If Shuuichi was just getting home from work at NG, he would be humming some tune loudly. Then, the moment he found Eiri, he would unload the entire list of events that had happened that day on his lover with the hope that maybe he cared... and really ddin't bother to check if he did or not. Chatter for a near hour, then off to work on some lyrics in the kitchen while he made a snack. If Eiri was in his bedroom alone at night, trying to think through a writer's block, Shuuichi would come in uninvited and lay next to him silently until he felt the unbearable urge to just start singing. But he'd sing quietly and soft so as to not give Eiri even more of a headache than he had then. Usually, after this had gone on for a good ten minutes, both of them would get kind of sleepy, and Shuuichi would curl up slightly on his side, facing Eiri. The last song he usually ended up singing was "Anti-Nostalgic", a nice accoustic, and he managed to manuever himself so that he ended up half-mumbling, half-singing the words ever-so-quietly into Eiri's ear. The pink-haired boy would most likely fall asleep before Eiri, but the novelist would not long-after follow into a deep sleep, slow, lyrical-phrases tangling his dreams.
That was the orchestra Eiri could recall right then. All tunes, all lyrics, all dynamics, all of them merging together to make one large, complicated mess of sound that almost sounded like a composition of sorts. It was kind of comforting to hear a grating voice like Shuuichi's sometimes..... but Eiri would be long dead before he ever admitted something like THAT aloud.
Brushing his fingers through the pink locks once more, the soft smell of a fragranced shampoo the singer had obviously been using lately and one the writer rather enjoyed, Eiri lifted his face away from Shuuichi's, ending the goodnight kiss the boy had wanted so badly. And, in a deep corner in the back of Eiri's mind...
He had wanted it, too.
"Dammit, I need a beer," he grumbled, standing straight and re-tucking in the sheet around the kid before walking out into the kitchen to drown himself in a beer can and hope that maybe, just maybe, tomorrow would work out a little better.
The End [Insert lovestruck-sigh]
AN: Woohoo, uber-short! Yay, I guess. Not as moving as my last story, but something I was considering writing for a long time. It actually had a little bit more plot where later, Shuuichi wakes up from a tummy ache and ends up sleeping with Eiri, but then that would have made this an R fic and I'm just not feeling too R-rated right now. It's 1:30 A.M. Gimme a break. Okay, so.... goodnight! Sweet dreams! And don't forget your goodnight kisses!