Disclaimer:  YUKI IS MIIIIINE!!!  ::ahem:: I mean, Yuki is NOT mine.  Neither is Shuuichi, or any of the other characters of Gravitation.  ::sigh::  Fine, dammit.. I don't own any of it!  ::sob::  But I wish I did!

Author's notes:  This is a work in progress.  I've seen the series, but not the OVA's.  It's AU, and a bit odd.  I can only hope that I've captured the personalities of Yuki and Shuuichi as they are in the series, but given the extremely odd nature of this fic, I might have screwed it up.  I'd give a shounen ai warning... but, well, it's Gravitation.. so why bother? ::fanged grin::  Anyway... if you feel like making a person extremely happy, you can give me a review and make my day.  So, what the hell are you doing reading this crap?  Read the fic!  ::firm nod::

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He glared at the glowing computer screen.  The chapter he had just written for his newest book glared back at him, the words dull, empty, and full of nothing.  *Bullshit... all of it.*  He lit a cigarette, crossed his arms across his chest, and sighed.  Lately, writing his novel was a burden.  Every sentence he typed came off as cheap, every paragraph was lacking any kind of feeling, and every page seemed as mundane as the previous.

Yuki Eiri sighed again, took a long drag on his cigarette.  It was quiet tonight, too quiet.  Shuuichi was rehearsing late with Bad Luck, something about a new mix Fujisaka had done.  Checking the time, Yuki knew he had at least two hours before Shuuichi got home, so he saved the chapter he had finished, and opened up a different file.

As soon as the new file opened, a ripple of excitement went through Yuki.  He was becoming sick of writing the same old love stories, and for the past few weeks, he was working on something else in secret.  He finished his cigarette, put out the butt in the ashtray, and looked intently at the screen.  He reread a few paragraphs that he had written the day before, a hint of a smile curling at his lips.

Yuki may have been blessed with the talent of writing love stories, but his passion lie elsewhere.  It had always been a dream of his to write a murder-mystery type of book, but one with all the elements of every genre.  He poured himself a glass of whiskey, took a healthy drink, and prepared to write.

The night was cold, dark, and damp.  A fall rain had soaked everything, and made the air smell like decay.  Death was on the wind, and Jake knew it.  He hurried down the well-trodden path toward the mansion.  A single light burned in a second-story window.  Jake's legs carried him faster, his boots squishing in the mud of the path.  If he could just find shelter, then the thing that stalked him would leave him alone, wouldn't it?  If he could just make it to the door, he would be safe.  He was almost there... he could make out the numbers on the door now.  545 shone in polished silver.  Jake reached out a shaky hand to knock, his breath coming in sharp pants.  Closer, closer, his fingers wrapped around the metal knocker, and then –

The door to the apartment was thrown open, and a very much out of breath Shuuichi burst inside, his face red from an apparent run to the apartment. "YUKI!!!  I'M HOME!!" he yelled in a strained voice, three decibels higher than he needed to.

Yuki had saved the file, closed his laptop and was now sitting on the couch with a lit cigarette in his mouth.  Shuuichi annoyed him more than his sister did sometimes, but he was so cute, it didn't matter too much.  Shuuichi was standing just inside the door, staring at him and humming.  Despite his annoyance and seeming lack of song-writing talent, the boy could definitely sing.  He rivaled Ryuichi from Nittle Grasper, even.

The blond writer was so absorbed in his thoughts, he was completely taken off balance when Shuuichi vaulted from where he stood on the door onto the couch and clung to Yuki in a death grip.  Was it him, or was Shuuichi trembling?  He circled his arms around the young boy, drawing him nearer.  "Nan da?"

Shuuichi lifted his head, his wide and frightened blue eyes burning into Yuki's.  "I think someone was following me home," he said in a small voice.  "I was walking down the alley by the river and I could hear footsteps behind me.  I turned around but no one was there.  It scared me, so I ran."  Shuuichi buried his head into Yuki's chest, mumbling something incoherent.

Someone following him?  Yuki's mind flashed back to the piece he was writing.  How strange was that?  He stroked Shuuichi's hair, forcing any biting comments back.  His lover was obviously very frightened, and even Yuki was not that mean.  "Baka..." he murmured quietly.  "No more late night rehearsals for you, ne?"

Shuuichi looked back up at Yuki, saw his severe green eyes had turned soft, and smiled.  Yuki bent down and kissed him, melting his fear away.  "Maybe you should get some rest."

The pink-haired boy grinned up at him.  "Hai, Yuki!  Oyasumi!"

"Oyasumi."

After Shuuichi had fallen asleep, Yuki went back into his office and sat at his desk.  He reopened his secret story and began banging at the keys.  He knew he should have been working on his novel, but he was enjoying this new one so much more.  No, he corrected himself, he was enjoying it, period.  His novels never gave him satisfaction, not the way this new thing was.

Jake tossed and turned fitfully in the clenches of a nightmare.  Soft moans and whimpers escaped his throat as hot tears ran down his face.  He was being strangled.  Cold, clammy, skeleton-like hands were wrapped around his neck, cutting off his breathing.  Jake gagged, struggled against the blackness threatening to overtake him.  He reached forward, searching for... something... anything, to grab onto.  He was fading out... the dark of his room was getting darker, his struggling weaker... and then...  Jake awoke, sat straight up, and screamed, loud and long.

"YUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUKKKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!"

Yuki nearly fell off his chair.  "What the hell?"  As calmly as he could muster, he walked into the room he had finally given Shuuichi to sleep in.  The young singer was sitting upright in the bed, breathing hard for the second time that night.  When Yuki's form appeared in the doorway, Shuuichi swallowed hard.  "I-I-I was dreaming.  Gomen nasaii."  His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

Yuki stayed where he was, his tall frame surrounded by the light from the hall.  He narrowed his eyes at Shuuichi.  "You screamed because you were having a dream?"

Shuuichi looked up at Yuki, hurt reflecting in his pure blue eyes.  "It was a nightmare... someone was strangling me... I couldn't breathe."  His voice trailed off when he saw the expression on Yuki's face.

The older man gasped.  Was this some weird coincidence?  Could Shuuichi be somehow reading his story and acting it out?  Yuki shook his head.  Shuuichi wasn't that smart.  But then, what could be happening?  Twice tonight something happened that mirrored his newest story.  For it to be simply a coincidence, just odd parallels to something he was writing, was almost too easy an answer... but, what else was there?

He moved to the bed, sat on the edge.  Shuuichi fell into him, sobbing.  "Gomen, Yuki," he said between sobs.  "I'm being stupid."

"Hai," said Yuki, though the tone did not come out as harsh as he expected it to.  "You are being stupid, but you're also being cute."

"H-honto ni?"

Yuki smiled.  "Honto ni."

Shuuichi smiled back.  "Honto no honto ni?"

The smile faded from Yuki's face.  "Don't push it."

The younger grinned happily.  He tilted his face up as Yuki's bent down.  Their lips met as Shuuichi was pushed down to the bed.  All thoughts about the nightmare he had vanished, and he all could think about was Yuki.

For Yuki however, his mind was stuck on the pages he had written of his story.  In truth, he had based Jake on Shuuichi, with a few differences.  And, the pages he had just written were, for the most part, based on what had happened when Shuuichi had gotten home.  But, for the dreams to be the same?  It was getting weird.  Yuki decided that he would stop writing the story, and go back to finishing the novel he was working on.