Title: Day by Day
Rating: T (for ambiguous mentions/implies of gay sex)
Disclaimer: If I was the owner of Gravitation the world would not know of it for I would've hid it—Good thing Maki Murakami owns it and not selfish-little-ol' me! xD
Summary: Yuki's got a fetish. It's not bondage, toy, masochism/sadism, or slave-and-master relationship.
-
One-Shot
-
Sometime after his lover moved (permanently) into his home and weaved his way through the threads of his heart, Eiri Yuki developed a fetish.
A peculiar one that left him bewildered and befuddled—although it wasn't until later, much later, that he realised he has a fetish that concerns the pink-hair rock star; although he should've suspected it. The prospering fire in his heart should've suggested as much. But being his sardonic self, anything beside wry humour and ironic satire is beyond his comprehension and state of mind. That is until it happened.
It here isn't a thing—far from it most would say. It is a person with animated personality. It is his lover.
Shuichi Shindou.
If a crazed scientist claimed to have discovered an entirely different specie of humans (if that's possible), Shuichi would be on top of his or her experimental list—well, perhaps the only one! That would be bad, Yuki shook his head. His eyes mindlessly wandered to it. Shuichi was lying on their sizable bed (which, many nights, has endured the rough plays between the two loving souls) innocently; his breathing, even.
As innocent as he lay, his position hinted otherwise. His t-shirt, two sizes too big for his petite body frame, seductively rode up his stomach, exposing the tan, delectable skin of his midriff. His shorts, too short for the good of his sanity, were a few good inches down from his bellybutton. His blanket, long being kicked away to avoid skin contact, rested at the end of the bed.
His finger itched to touch, feel, caress, and adore the exposed skin and everything about its owner. He didn't move; he didn't dare to. He didn't trust himself—couldn't.
And so it brought us back to his problematic fetish—although he would deny it if accused.
Eiri Yuki has a discomforting fetish.
No, it is not bondage. He is more than capable of ensnaring his lover in his embraces whilst drawing needy and wanton cries from said prisoner with his own two hands. Although, the extra accessory comes to play in rare times that both of them feel adventurous.
Masochism isn't his thing, nor sadism; both made him queasy. He felt the lacked of worshipping of each other was discomforting. It would explain his contempt with master-and-slave relationship. His fetish doesn't include toy, even if a few of his fantasies included a helpless Shuichi, bounded under Yuki's larger hand, writhing with frenzy under the administration of a toy as he watched from above.
Long story short, Yuki has a strange fetish. He—
A yawn from the bed enraptured his attention at once, and he broke his thoughts midway to catch the action. Shuichi mumbled something incoherent under his breath before turning to his side.
Yuki stood up from his comfortable chair on which he had sat for the better part of the past hour. Having done this so many times before in the past, Yuki could confidently tell how long it would take him, in his constant speed, to reach the bed from the chair. Three seconds.
Each night, especially those before rapidly approaching deadlines, he would retire to their room late. But instead of sinking into the comfort of the bed, coiling his arms around Shuichi, trapping him in Yuki's hold until much later in the morning that follows, Yuki would lounged on the armchair a few feet away from the bed. And he would sit there for hours to come, despite the growing sleepiness.
A bystander would suspect a gathering of intelligent thoughts from the concentrated look upon his face. However, Yuki was being reflective. He would ponder about life; about his author's block—about almost anything that would occupy his mind and deprived him away from his obsessive fetish. But he would always find himself falling in the same trap.
A slight movement of Shuichi arms would flicker his interest; a twitch of a toe and Yuki is entranced; soft mumbles bewitched his reasons. Anything about his lover was simply beyond distracting—fascinating.
Such charisma that his lover owns was ever evident, even whilst he slept. And Yuki wanted to capture them all; he wanted to imprint them into his memory—graved them into stones lest he forgets. Although he doubted it.
But nonetheless, he couldn't stop watching.
A gentle smile graced his feature. By this time, he had already reached the bed and had climbed into its sanction. Carefully, he crawled toward his beloved partner and once he had reached said person, he paused midair, dazing down at the face that had charmed his frozen heart. From this angle, he could capture all the subtle movements upon Shuichi's features: his fluttering eyelashes, his rosy lips, his lengthy throat...
His fetish wasn't so bad after all, Yuki concluded.
Just before he was about to settle down next to the rock star, a small whisper invaded his hearing: "Yuki."
He pulled himself upright once again onto his right arm. His eyes focused at Shuichi's face. Without hesitation, he descended from his high height to make contact with his lover's lips. The chaste kiss was quick, gentle, barely touching, and had nothing sensual to it—yet it was addicting. He could practically feel another fetish growing.
A whine emitted from the person below as Yuki slowly pulled away. He laughed to himself.
What a fetish or two matter—he was unutterably in love.
-End-
This is so random! Lol! I was trying to brainstorm for the Naruto story I was writing and this suddenly and unexpectedly came out...but I really like how this drabble came out! So happy!!
My first drabble about Yuki's feeling—tee hee!! I believe we should make a statement about his love to Shuichi, hence this piece...i'm ecstatic!!
Special thanks, once again, to Lizard-sensei!! (although she's only a year older than i am, lol!)
Adieu.
