Sorry
Written by: Chocho (chochowilliams)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Summary: AU. He ran from Shuichi once. Will he take this second chance or let his past keep him from true happiness? Ryuichi/Shuichi, Shuichi/Eiri
Chapter summary: How they met
Warning: AU, Angst, drama, romance, language, m/m sexual content, Ryuichi/Shuichi, Shuichi/Eiri
Inserts: "Forgive Me For" (an original poem by me)
A/N: I tried to fix the mistakes. Let me know if I missed something.
+--+--+--+
Prologue
(Tokyo, Japan)
It was nearing midnight and the club was filled to capacity. A line that stretched down the street and around the block of men and women clad in what they felt were their best club outfits waited eagerly outside the black nondescript building that held the hottest and newest nightclub aptly named "Adoration". All were hoping that just being seen trying to get into the club would raise them a notch or two above their present stations.
Inside, bodies gyrated together. It was impossible to distinguish who belonged to what body part. Their flesh pressed together in the only erotic dance one could get away with in public. There was a mixture of sex, sweat, cigarette smoke, alcohol and something else that could not be identified permeating the air. A deafening explosion of sound vibrated through the thick, almost nauseating staleness of the club. The floor continually vibrated under the patrons and employees' feet. The strobe lights flashed blindingly. Beams of lights created different patterns in the air above their heads.
From his position at the bar, a mug filled with frothy amber liquid sitting before him long since forgotten, Eiri watched the stage as if hypnotized as a man singing into a microphone danced suggestively across the stage towards the guitarist, a tall man with platinum blond hair that swept just past his shoulders. The singer, with his shoulder length choppy jet-black hair that had chunks dyed neon pink and a flushed face glistening with sweat who came up to the guitarist's nose, ground his body erotically against the guitarist, which made the girls, a few of the men and some people he found himself second and then third guessing squeal. David squirmed as his already tight black leather pants became even more so.
"They're pretty good, huh?" the bartender asked him. He had to shout above the noise to be heard.
Eiri made an undistinguishable noise to the affirmative.
"Heard they're being scouted by some record label!"
Eiri could believe that. If the crowd was any indication, these guys were going to be huge.
"He is sooo cute," squealed a female besides him.
Eiri studied her out of the corner of his eye. She had mile long legs encased in black knee high vinyl boots with platform heels and huge breasts that either were a cruel joke by nature or a gift from some sugar daddy that were straining against a white silk top that had to be at least two sizes too small. Her reddish-blond hair hung poker straight down to her waist where a black skirt, if you could call it that for it practically left her ass hanging out, hugged her hips. If she was not careful, Eiri feared she could be arrested either for indecent exposure or as a "licensed companion" as author JD Robb calls them in her futuristic romantic suspense novels.
"Yeah," the woman's female companion agreed. She was dressed similarly to her friend except she had shorter hair the same color as mud. "It's too bad that Shuichi guy is gay, though!"
That got Eiri's immediate attention.
"Wha? Is that true?" pouted the first woman.
The second woman shrugged. "It's what I heard."
A smirk crossed Eiri's face. Standing up, he pulled out his wallet and slapped down a sizeable tip for the bartender before cutting his way through the throng of sex starved twenty-something college students towards the stage.
--+--+--
Shuichi was pumped. Adrenaline was his mistress tonight. The energy from the sold out crowd fueled him and the other members of his band Bad Luck. The sound of his boots against the hardwood floor of the stage was lost amongst the continual swelling sounds of their audience. His loose pinstriped dress slacks were starting to stick to his legs from the buckets of sweat pouring off him. The half dozen single link chain belts cinched around his narrow hips flashed in the strobe-ing lights and clanged musically as he moved. The matching pinstriped vest showed off his toned dancer's physique.
Their last song of the night, "Forgive me For", was co-written by Kevin Powers and Ethan Biesinger, the bassist and drummer respectively, of Bad Luck, who also happened to be second cousins, or was it, first cousins once removed? Whatever the proper term was, when Shuichi asked the cousins what the inspiration behind the song was, they had remained more tightly sealed than a virgin's legs.
Tread softly
Beneath this façade lies uncertainty
Misfortune if a cruel mistress
A blanket of rose petals turns into cheery blossoms
Snapping the red string that used to bind us
Is there any way to mend this rift
What is the truth behind this falsehood
Shuichi could feel the heavy mixture of hip-hop and club beats within his chest and he loved it. He strutted around the stage, feeding off the energy from the crowd.
Forgive me for
A bed that grew empty and cold
Forgive me for
Unbidden thoughts of doubts
Forgive me for
My steely tongue that quarreled with my heart
Forgive me for
Ignoring you when you called out to me
Hiro stepped forward and made his sleek black electric guitar sing like no other could.
Golden hazel eyes snapped open. It was as if time stood still. In the space of a heartbeat, Shuichi locked eyes with a man who was leaning against a pillar towards the center of the club. His face grew warm and it had nothing to do with the hot stage lights beating down on him.
The guy had light colored hair that was styled to appear sleep tousled, as if he had just gotten up out of bed, but in actuality he had most likely spent an arm and a leg at a professional salon in order to get that look. Despite the swarming mass giving off so much body heat it was beginning to feel like a sauna, this guy seemed comfortably cool in his black leather pants and white button up dress shirt that had been left half-unbuttoned in order to present a view of his smooth chest. It was obvious that this guy took good care of his body. Shuichi wondered if the guy was naturally hairless or if he waxed regularly like some other guys he knew. He also knew of a few that had undergone electrolysis to rid themselves of all that unwanted body hair.
Shuichi wondered if the rest of the guy was just as smooth as what little he could see. His mouth went suddenly dry. The lyrics he was singing flew out of his head. He forgot what it was he was supposed to be doing. Something fluttered in his stomach as those eyes watched him. They were making him feel suddenly timid and slightly unnerved, even though if you asked anyone who knew him, that person would tell you he was anything but. His heart started pounding.
Wow, he thought in amazement as the music pulsed around him and the roar of the crowd swelled. That guy is gorgeous.
--+--+--
From the back of the club at the loading dock where Bad Luck was loading up their equipment after another successful show in Suguru's old family van they usually borrowed when they had a gig, the sounds coming from the club, though muffled, could still be heard. With his arms folded behind his head, Shuichi leaned against the side of the building and stared up unseeingly at the celestial bodies of light shinning brightly in the nighttime sky. His band mates arguing on how to load the van most effectively went unnoticed as the image of the man Shuichi saw towards the end of their last song of the night flashed through his head. After their performance ended to a euphoric ovation, Shuichi had sought out that man with those piercing eyes, but it was as if the man vanished. He was strangely disappointed.
"Hey," breathed a voice in his ear unexpectedly.
Startled, Shuichi jumped away from the wall. He spun around and came face to face with the man that has been haunting his thoughts all night. "You!" he cried wide eyed.
Eiri merely smiled back at, looking almost smug.
At the sound of his friend's shocked exclamation, Hiro halted the seemingly endless tirade he always had with Suguru every time they loaded the van and glanced over his shoulder. A concerned frown etched across his face.
"Shu?" he called out to his friend.
The others followed his line of sight in open curiosity.
Shuichi glanced over his shoulder and saw the guys watching them closely. "Huh?"
"What's going on?" Hiro asked suspiciously. He turned piercing dark chocolate eyes towards the newcomer. "Who're you?" he demanded.
"It's okay, Hiro," Shuichi assured his best friend with a smile as he tried to calm his racing heart.
Frowning, Hiro gave the newcomer one last none-too-polite glance over before being urged into the van by Kevin and Ethan. Suguru inclined his head at Eiri, who nodded in return, before he too vanished around the rusted hunk of metal that should have been put down for rabies a long time ago.
"He your boyfriend or something?"
Eiri's voice drew Shuichi's attention back around. "Who? Hiro? No." He shook his head. "He's my best friend and tends to be a little…" He struggled for a word that would not be offensive to his best friend and fellow band mate.
"Overprotective?" Eiri suggestive.
Shuichi laughed. "Yeah."
Eiri tilted his head and smiled gently. "…That's nice."
"Wha?"
"Your laugh."
Shuichi did not know what to say to that. He blushed hotly.
Chuckling softly, Eiri held out his hand. "I'm Eiri. Eiri Uesugi."
"Shuichi. Shuichi Shindou."
"Well, it is nice to meet you Shuichi."
"You, too."
Eiri's hand engulfed Shuichi's hand.
As they shook hands, Shuichi could not help but notice how warm this Eiri guy was to the touch. He wondered if he had some Latino or Hispanic blood in him. Shuichi knew from experience that their body temperature had a tendency to be a lot higher than everybody else as if they had their own internal heat source. He also found that he had to either take several steps back or tilt his head back and get a chink in his neck in order to have a proper conversation with this guy.
Much to his chagrin, Shuichi had always been a little on the short side. Hiro towered over him at five-nine, but this guy would tower even over him. Eiri had to be at least six feet. In the light beaming down from the sole lamp above the loading dock bay door, Shuichi noticed strands of red and brown within Eiri's light sandy colored hair. And those eyes! Shuichi soon found himself lost amongst their unusual yellowish-brownish hue. Like indigo, it was neither one nor the other, but a perfect combination.
"You have beautiful eyes," Shuichi blurted. His eyes went wide when he realized he said that aloud. He clamped his mouth shut. A hot blush crept up his neck.
"Thank you," Eiri said with a light laugh. "You were amazing on that stage tonight."
Once again, Shuichi was at a loss for words. By this time, he had a permanent blush coloring his face. "Thank you."
Eiri cocked his head to the side as he studied his new young friend. Shuichi was more than half a foot shorter than he was. Up close, Eiri could now tell that those slightly pinched golden hazel eyes that almost seemed to glow against his dark olive complexion were thanks to colored contacts. He wondered if they were cosmetic or if Shuichi had bad eyesight. "You don't have Western blood do you?" he asked. He hoped that question was not out of line.
Taken aback by the startling revelation, Shuichi blinked. "You can tell?"
Eiri shrugged. He was sort of bias. With his unusual coloring, there had always been rumors floating among the family. Rumors, which Eiri had ignored.
That was a surprise. Eiri was the first person to notice without Shuichi having to say anything. "My grandfather grew up in New York," he explained.
Shuichi had always taken his heritage for granted. Until his grandmother passed away a few years ago that was. They were going through her things, deciding who would get what and what was to be donated to charity when they came across a shoebox hidden in the back of her closet behind trash bags filled with clothing that his grandmother had always meant to give away but for one reason or another had not.
What they found within the worn, torn and faded rectangular box were black and white photographs from another era, letters yellowed with age and a birth certificate that belonged to Shuichi's mother.
That was when the secret that Shuichi's grandmother tried to bury fifty years ago came screeching back to the surface.
The man that Shuichi's mother always believed to be her father, the man her elder brother and sister called, "dad" was not the man who helped her mother to conceive her. No, the man's blood that was flowing through her veins was some man from New York.
To this day, his mother refused to discuss it. She refused to even acknowledge it. While she was embarrassed and ashamed of her recently discovered ancestry, Shuichi was damn proud to admit that he was a Mutt.
"Shuichi!" Hiro's angry bark caused both men to jump. "You coming or what?"
Shuichi glanced over his shoulder as Eiri chuckled softly into his fist. "In a minute!" He turned back around. "Well, Eiri, it was a pleasure meeting you-."
"Actually," Eiri interrupted. "I was wondering if you would, uhm…"
Shuichi titled his head. His large golden eyes waiting in eager anticipation. He felt his heart thumping hard within his chest.
Eiri licked lips gone dry. He forced himself to swallow. Why was this so hard? His heart rate had sped up. He could taste his pulse beating on his tongue. He could not seem to catch his breath. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.
"Eiri?"
It was not working.
Shuichi took a step closer to the other man. "Are you all right?"
"Do you have plans?" he blurted out.
Shuichi was taken aback. His mind went blank. "Wha…?"
Eiri was beginning to become antsy. He had never been good with this kind of thing.
"He's asking you out you freaking moron!" came the shouts from the van.
Shuichi's eyes went wide. His glance went to the van behind him where laughter and mocking noises were coming from to the blond haired, blond-eyed man shuffling his feet before him.
Eiri shrugged nonchalant, though he avoided Shuichi's searching gaze. "If you aren't busy," he mumbled.
A wide grin split Shuichi's face. "All right."
Eiri's head snapped around. He gazed at the younger man in shock. "Really?"
Shuichi nodded.
--+--+--
Shuichi woke to the sun streaming in through the gold and black lace filigree blackout curtains he had forgotten to close last night- or had it been early this morning?- when he went to bed. With a groan, he turned on his side and flipped the covers over his head. He sighed contently when he was blessed with a pseudo-night.
The events of last night replayed through his head. A slow grin spread across his face and a giggle tickled its way up his throat. Last night had been the best night of his entire life. Eiri had taken him to an all night café where they spent hours just talking. They talked about everything and anything.
Shuichi learned that Eiri's family ran a brewery called "The Lion Brewery", founded by his great, great, great grandfather. Eiri himself was working on getting his Ph.D. in business management so that he could take over the company from his father. Eiri also had a dual B.A. degree in English and Creative Writing and was in the middle of writing a suspense thriller in those few minutes a day he had to spare and was going to try to get it published.
With an older sister and both a younger brother and sister, Eiri was the second of four children.
His parents divorced soon after his little sister was born. Eiri refused to say anything more about that subject except to say it was a bitter and ugly parting that had affected him greatly. Eiri started smoking soon after the divorce. Whether it was due to the stress of dealing with his parents' divorce, he was not sure.
Eiri claimed his father was a Buddhist while his mother's mother had been Roman Catholic. His mother's father was also a Buddhist. Eiri's mother was raised Roman Catholic until her mother passed away, and then she had been raised as a Buddhist by her father. Even though Eiri had been raised Buddhist, he considered himself nowadays to be Agnostic.
He was also left handed. Shuichi could not remember ever having met a left-handed person before.
Flinging the covers back, Shuichi pushed up onto his elbows and glanced down at the bed besides him. His grin faltered and fell. Shuichi bolted up. The bed besides him was empty. After spending hours at the café and racking up one of the largest bills, he was sure anyone at the café had ever seen, Shuichi brought Eiri back to his small efficiency and one thing had inevitably led to another.
"Eiri," he called.
Tossing aside the covers, Shuichi swung his legs off the bed. He shivered as the cool air of his small studio hit his bare skin. Standing up, he grabbed his suit pants he had worn last night off the floor where they had been tossed in the lustful frenzy and slipped them on as he glanced around his two-hundred and fifty-eight square foot closet for his lover who seemed to have vanished. Yawning, Shuichi crossed towards the bathroom.
"Eiri?" he called softly as he rapt lightly on the closed bathroom door. He twisted the handle and pushed open the door. He stuck his head inside the bathroom. "Hey Eiri, do you…?" Empty. He scratched the back of his head. Where did he go? Turning back around, Shuichi scanned the studio. There was so sign of any of the other man's belongings anywhere. Eiri was gone.
Shuichi felt a sharp pain in his chest. His eyes filled with tears. An angry surge rolled through him. Balling his hand into a fist, Shuichi hit the wall with all the frustration he could muster. His hand prickling with pain, Shuichi slid down the doorjamb and collapsed onto the floor in a sobbing heap. He should have known. Things that seem too good to be true usually are.
--TBC--
Preview: Shuichi moves on.