Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation; I make no profit from this story.

Pressure

by R. M. Weiss

Chapter 1:

He flicked on the light to the living room of his small apartment from outside his door, having only opened it enough to slip his hand through and feel for the switch. Tie hanging loose about his neck, the black haired man let out a heavy sigh as he toed off his polished black shoes. At the age of twenty-nine, Sakano was starting to feel the heavy weight of responsibility taking its toll on him.

Coming home to an empty house was never easy lately. He would rather be at the studio now, maybe getting an energy drink from the vending machine down the hall from the recording studio, or getting another bouquet of flowers to put in Tohma's office to lighten it up.

He knew the flowers really didn't do much for the professional atmosphere in the room, but he liked to think that perhaps they brought the president some cheer. It wasn't as if he didn't pick flowers out at random. Every week on Monday morning Sakano would get up and head to the little florist shop not far from his apartment and purchase a carefully made-up bouquet that held a mass of flowers that held a type of meaning in the language of flowers. Last week he had brought in camellias. [1)

Heating up last nights leftovers, the producer watched the plastic container of food spin round-and-round on the plate inside the microwave, taking the time remaining for it to heat up to think. Today had been eventful, to say the least. Shuichi had come in late, though that was nothing new. Suguru had, as usual, ranted for twenty minutes about Shuichi's "lack of dedication" to Bad Luck, the teen having finally snapped after going through a grueling week of mid-term testing at school. Sakano hadn't known exactly what Hiro said when he came in the door to witness the spectacle, but it quickly quieted the keyboardist down to the point he was only silently fuming and muttering to himself while he went about starting up his synthesizer.

The peace had lasted until around noon. During their lunch break Hiro had excused himself only to be discovered a couple minutes later in the men's bathroom leaning over the sink, suffering from food-poisoning.

Sakano thought that would have been the end of their day, but the guitar player had insisted he wanted to continue and with in twenty minutes was back in the studio. This hadn't sat well with Shuichi, who refused to sing and insisted that Hiro go home and rest. Strangely enough Suguru agreed, and his confirmation of Shuichi's orders set the guitarist off on a tangent of his own. The three musicians had bickered until Hiro had to run to the bathroom once more, which caused Shuichi and Suguru to argue over who would go check on him, the two of them trying to push and shove each other out of the way to get to Hiro first.

Sakano had been dragged into the spat when Suguru demanded that be allowed to go check on Hiroshi. Shuichi had gotten suspicious almost instantly, and had started nagging the younger teen on why he was so keen to be the one to get to Hiro first. When the keyboard-playing prodigy retorted with a sharp "mind your own business", Shuichi seemed to fit the pieces together in his head and jumped on the grumpy teen, teasing him about having a crush on Hiro. That was all it had taken for Suguru to crumble and try and escape the room, which only prompted Shuichi to give him another good-natured teasing.

In the six hours they spent in the recording studio, nothing had gotten done, and by the end of the day, Sakano had been so exhausted from mediating between the three band mates and trying to get them to focus on either going home and resting for a day or at least doing a rough copy of a new single that he had nearly cried with joy when K had broken them up around four and sent everyone home, the American having come in late due to personal issues.

However, Sakano's day hadn't ended with the members of Bad Luck going home. He had stayed for another seven and a half-hours sorting out things that still needed to be done, as well as running errands for the president. When he left N-G Records his car had refused to start, and with his wallet left at home by accident he had been forced to trek four blocks in the pouring rain to find an ATM to get money for bus fare.

Letting out a heavy sigh, brown eyes closed wearily as he opened the microwave and took out his dinner, wincing at the heat that instantly burned his fingers. Dropping the container on the table, the producer found another thing to add to today's list of Bad Events.

Stabbing at the warmed eel meat, he pushed it around the container. He wasn't in much of a mood to eat. Lately his appetite was almost nonexistent. He had originally been a healthy one hundred and thirty-six pounds, but after two hard weeks at work attempting to help K whip Bad Luck into shape for an upcoming single release and TV show appearance he had dropped down to one hundred and twenty pounds, an unhealthy pallor to his skin making itself known.

Dumping the rest of his dinner in the trash, the black haired man shuffled off towards the shower. Shivering when the cool water hit his skin, he raked his hands through his hair, holding it back and out of his eyes, only to realize that for the fifth time this week he had forgotten to take his glasses off. Fumbling with the slippery frames he heaved another sigh as they clattered to the shower floor. Stooping down to grope around blindly for the lenses, the man yelped when he gave a start at the sound of his doorbell.

"C-Coming!" he called, quickly shutting the shower off and pulling his bathrobe, tying it tightly around his waist.

Still dripping wet from his shower, he winced each time the person at the door continued to hit the bell. He wasn't sure how they had gotten into the building without him buzzing them in, and a knot of uneasiness settled in his stomach as he flipped the cover off the peephole in his door.

Outside, a blonde, gun-toting American rocked back on his heels as he waited patiently for the dark haired man to open the door.

Surprised to see the blurry outline of his co-worker, Sakano hurriedly undid the locks on his door and flung it open. 'Did something happen to the president? Is Shuichi-kun missing? Has N-G burned to the ground because of that crazy woman with the giant panda?' he thought with dawning horror as his mind played out the worst case scenarios. "K-san, is everything alright?"

"Hm? What happened to you? Did you walk home in the rain?" the blond replied, brushing past the anxious other man and inviting himself inside.

"Sh-Shoes!" Sakano stuttered after a second.

"Oh...Right…"

Brushing his damn hair out of his eyes, Sakano squinted carefully at K, trying to read the other's body language. If something had happened the American would have said so already. Wouldn't he?

"Ano….K-san, why are you here? Is everyone alright? Did Nakano-kun get home okay?"

Slipping into a set of extra slippers left to the side, K took his time making sure his shoes were properly stowed away. "He's fine. Shuichi called me an hour ago to let me know he's not coming in tomorrow. He thinks a day off for everyone will do us all some good."

Sakano slumped back against the door in relief. "O-Oh….but what about the single?"

"You got any sake around here?"

Opening his eyes, the producer quickly followed after the blond who had discovered his small kitchen. "It's on the first shelf in the fridge….Ano...K-san, you didn't answer my other question yet."

The blond popped the cork on the sake bottle and set it on the table before rummaging around through cabinets looking for cups. "You know, you have everything in alphabetical order and grouped by color…"

"I know I do! Now will you please answer my question?" the Japanese man replied, instantly regretting snapping. It wasn't like him to do so, but it was late and he was tired, and he still hadn't finished his shower. "Did something ha—"

"She left me."

"Come again?"

Picking up the sake and pouring himself a cup, K downed it in one long gulp. "My wife, Judy, she left me."

"I'm sorry…." Sakano murmured.

Shrugging, K sniffed and poured himself another cup, "Don't be. It's not your fault. I'm sorry I barged in here. Didn't mean to disrupt your night. I just….I couldn't think of anyone who would even open the door. I guess I could have forced Shuichi to open the door but...well let's say Yuki-san and I don't get along so well."

The producer politely averted his eyes when he noticed the American using the side of his hand to wipe away tears, trying to make it look like he was just itching the corners of his eyes.

"I shouldn't keep you up. You have to meet Seguchi tomorrow. I'll let myself out."

Without thinking, Sakano reached out and gripped onto K's shoulder, preventing him from leaving, "Seguchi-san is taking a personal day tomorrow….And we don't have work."

"Are you asking me to stay?"

Surprised by the bluntness of the tall man, the brunette cleared his throat and pulled his hand back, fiddling with his bathrobe and pulling it closed a bit more. "I….Well….It's still raining."

K's lips quirked in a ghost of his usual smile, "You wouldn't mind?"

Shaking his head, the producer rubbed the back of his neck, "No. It's fine. I don't get a lot of company."

"Where can I sleep?"

"The couch pulls out…I'll get you some blankets and pillows."

Nodding, K put the sake back in the refrigerator and the cup in the sink. "Thanks."

Sakano murmured a half-stuttered reply and waved the American off towards the couch in the living room. Quickly returning to the bathroom he turned the shower on and rushed through conditioning his hair and retrieving his glasses.

Pulling on plain button down top and drawstring pants he padded out to the closet across the hall and took out a set of neatly folded sheets and a pillow.

"Did you get it open?"

Looking up from the soft mattress he currently had buried his face in, K got to his feet. "I might have to steel this mattress from you."

"It's not that good. Seguchi-san told me the best mattresses these days are those foam kinds." Tucking in the sheets, Sakano worked his way slowly around the pull-out.

"If you're into feeling like you're stuck in quicksand then I guess so."

"The one sacho has isn't like that."

Raising an eyebrow, K sat back down on the now made bed, "Didn't know you were into sleeping with the boss, Sakano."

Instantly feeling his cheeks flush, the Japanese man stuttered and dropped the pillow he was carrying. "W-What!? N-No! No you've got it all wrong! Seguchi-san just had me come along when he went bed hopping—I mean bed shopping!"

The American gave the other a Cheshire-cat grin and stifled a laugh. "Easy, Mr. Producer, I'm just teasing you."

Sakano picked up the pillow off the floor and handed it to K while he fought off the blush that colored his face. "I know."

"Then you didn't need to get so flustered."

"I'm just…tense, that's all. The last two weeks…."

"Have been hell?"

"Yes."

With a sigh K leaned back on his make-shift bed. "You could say that again….I think they were the final straw with Judy…."

"Final straw?"

Closing blue eyes, the blond tucked his arms under his head and let out a deep breath through his nose. "We're both busy people. The last two weeks was it…she had to fly to LA, I had to work with Bad Luck...She said she couldn't take it and she was leaving, I said fine. She packed her bags, grabbed Michael and left."

"I understand."

K's eyes opened, "What?"

"My parents divorced when I was ten, I know what it's like for a marriage to fall apart because I saw it happening," Sakano replied with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I know it…it hurt them both badly. They had their reasons."

"Did you forgive them?"

Turning to leave, Sakano shook his head slowly, "I never got the chance. They both died three weeks into filing for divorce. A car crash…….Ano….it's late, K-san. I'm going to go to bed. Please, make yourself at home."

K nodded hesitantly, "Right….Thank you…..and, I'm sorry for your loss."

Quickly striding to his room, Sakano closed the door quietly behind him and instantly went to his nightstand, digging through the top drawer until he found the right plastic prescription bottle. Popping the cap he quickly swallowed down two pills before chasing them down with another larger pill from a different bottle.

'I shouldn't have come right out and said all that…I don't know him that well as it is…Oh well…I'll talk to him tomorrow about it…' The thin man slipped slowly under the covers of his bed and pulled a pillow close to his body. 'Hopefully these pills will let me get a good night sleep…'

Squeezing the pillow in his arms a bit tighter, the man closed his tired eyes and let sleep take hold of his mind. For the sixth time this week, he forgot to take his glasses off.

TBC…

Thank you for reading the first chapter of Pressure. I'll be updating shortly, hopefully with a longer chapter. Until then sit back, relax, and make yourself comfortable because in a few chapters this story is going to go on one hell of a wild ride.

[1) Camellia flowers symbolize admiration, perfection, and also are a good luck gift to a man