A/N: This fanfiction was originally written as a role-play type thing with a friend of mine, whose username is Atrophic Soliloquy on Gaiaonline. This takes a different tone than what I normally write, because it's mostly fluff, and I only re-glossed it; I mean, wow… Going back and editing, I realized that it has more of the Gravitation tone that Ricochet (: inner voice: Of course, you dolt! That was mainly ANGST!) ... Chapters may be slow in coming, cause, uh… we're still writing…. It's kind of a 'what could have happened instead of…' of Gravitation Ex…? Eh, a continuation of some of the events in Gravitation Ex? No… not that, because Nittle Grasper's still a band… A combination of the three??? Whatever it is, I hope you guys enjoy!
Disclaimer: The characters of Gravitation do not belong to me; if they did… well... This story only half belongs to me, the plot half-belonging to Atrophic Soliloquy, and I have only taken creative liberty with it. To her I say: Thanks babe and I love you, Sin-chan!
(PS: The next to final chapter of Ricochet will be up in a few days. The ending needs polishing and editing, but I assure you, it'll KNOCK YOUR SOCKS OFF!)
Chapter One: Ne, Shu-i-chi…
Eiri Yuki wrinkled his nose, concentration breaking entirely. He could hear Shuichi banging around in the kitchen, looking for something; sugar, no doubt. It always amazed the writer that Shuichi could be this… peppy… this early in the morning. Then again, it amazed Yuki that the musician could manage to wake him up… but here he was, awake.
"Yuki!" Shuichi cried sweetly, bounding up to the sofa in which his lover sat. He leaned over the back of the window-facing couch, his head laying comfortably on Yuki's shoulder. "Do we have anymore pocky?"
Yuki sideways at the bubble-gum pop star, his eyes straining to see the little bit of Shuichi's face that he could see. "Why would I know? I don't keep up with your crap."
"You shop," the vocalist whined, draping his arms over the back of the sofa, his fingers curling into the fabric of Yuki's white shirt.
"I find it disgusting that you eat pocky for breakfast."
Shuichi gave a huff of disapproval. "Always jumping to conclusions, Eiri Yuki-san!" he scolded. "It's not for me. It's for Rik-chan."
For the second time in minutes, Yuki wrinkled his nose: The kid was way less than bearable.
"I'm putting it into his lunch, because I'm sure you'll forget to feed him."
"Whatever," the novelist grunted, trying hard to turn his attention back to the wrinkled paper that he had abandoned a few minutes before.
"Remember to drop him off at the rehearsal office, you remember where that is, right?" Now there was a gloating tone in Shuichi's voice; he knew well and good that Yuki wouldn't forget where that particular room was at NG-Studios. In fact, just a week before, they'd had a nice little make-out session there.
Gaining no response, Shuichi snickered and tipped his head to bite Yuki's ear, gaining a shiver from his novelist lover.
Yuki reached up, tipping Shuichi's lips against his own, kissing the pop-star deeply.
Shuichi climbed over the edge of the sofa, somehow managing to not break the kiss. He slowly slid his fingers over Yuki's shoulders, enjoying the feel of rumpled cotton and smooth skin against his slim hands.
Just as Yuki was about to take the kiss further, Shuichi pulled away and promptly bounced back into 'super-hyper Shuichi mode'. "So don't forget to come to the studio at two with Rik-chan, okaaay," he bubbled, cheeks flushed and eyes bright.
"Yeah, sure… two," Yuki grumbled, pushing his over-hyped lover off of his lap. Shuichi gave a soft whine, but the romance novelist ignored this, barreling on to the next subject. "Are you gonna be home for dinner?" he inquired a few minutes later, twisting around to look at the vocalist, who was now in the kitchen once again.
The boy, who was still clad in his pajamas—shorts and a tank-top— paused in fixing his breakfast. "I… I dunno," he mumbled slowly. His fingers toyed with the rim of his bowl, and he seemed to think for a long moment. "Tohma's still really pissed about our 'misuse' of the studio…"
At this, Yuki snorted; of course the fedora-wearing pompous pianist would be ticked.
"And he has Bad Luck against the grindstone… I don't think I'll be home before eleven…" Shuichi whispered.
Yuki shrugged, returning to the paper.
"Were you offering to fix me dinner, Yuki?" Shuichi questioned, slowly uncapping the milk. "Because if you were, I can try an—"
"I wasn't offering, you brat! I was just wondering when you were going to break the peace. Y'know, so I'll know when to lock my door!"
At this Shuichi gave a soft wince. It was like that between the two, lately. "Ha, and here I was thinking you'd be nice today," Shuichi said, laughing faintly.
Behind the haven of the morning paper, Yuki was biting his lip. Well this turned out just peachy…
For the rest of the time that Shuichi had before he left, he was quiet, and kept away from Yuki.
"I'm leaving," he mumbled, opening the door.
"See you," Yuki grumbled, flipping on the television.
Shuichi nodded. "Hey…Yuki, you love me, right?"
Yuki frowned, and turned to look at the now-dressed rock star. He took in Shuichi's normal endearing appearance; messy livid pink hair, large violet eyes, ripped jeans, tennis shoes, a tight shirt with a vest, and a conglomeration of rubber-band bracelets. That paired with the vocalist's 'there's really nothing wrong with the world' innocence and naivety, what wasn't to love? "Yeah, of course I do," the blonde answered, giving a short shrug.
"Then why don't you ever say it…? Or at least… y'know, act like it?" Shuichi whispered, closing the door behind him as he left.
"Don't tell me it's writer's block again, Shindou-san!" Suguru groaned, running a hand through spiky green hair. "We're a band, and that means we work together! Nakano-san and I have already done our part! Get working!"
Shuichi gave a dramatic sigh. "You just don't understand the workings of a brilliant genius Suguru…" the vocalist paused for a long moment, staring down at his blank paper. "Artists are doomed to failure!!!" he wailed, covering his head with his arms.
Suguru gave a frustrated sigh and tried again. "Shindou-san," he stared.
At this new attempt, Shuichi began to bawl. "Nooooooooooo!!!!"
In the corner, Sakano was busy having a fit. "The concert's tomorrow and we don't have a song... oh; Sacho will fire me for sure this time!"
Over in the calm corner of the room, Suguru rubbed his temples, trying in vain to stop the oncoming migraine.
"Why can't we get a ghost writer or something?!" Shuichi groaned. "I can't suffer like this anymore! We should suck it up at writing our own lyrics!"
Hiro looked at Shuichi, cocking an eyebrow. After listening to Shuichi lament for a few more minutes, he raised the ever-present question: "Does this have something to do with Yuki-san?"
Shuichi blinked innocently. "Why, now... Hiro, why would you ever think that?" Inwardly, the vocalist winced. Even though Yuki had been somewhat nice lately, he still cringed at the thought of writing lyrics just to get them slammed.
Hiro shrugged. "That's the general problem in these situations," he said genially.
"But Yuki's been nice lately," Shuichi murmured tentatively.
"Then why're so depressed about it?" Hiro laughed, plopping down with his guitar. "Just write something. We can all polish it later."
"But I just can't!"
At this latest protest, Suguru finally snapped. After a long fight between him and Shuichi, K had finally had enough.
"Just write the lyrics!!!" he commanded, swiftly pressing his revolver to Shuichi's temple.
"Hiro, help me!" Shuichi squeaked. This earned a shrug and an "I'd better do what he says," from his red-head friend.
Shuichi's eyes darted to the clock, and he realized that it was five minutes until two. Quickly, he came up with a harebrained scheme to escape.
He pretended to faint.
While the rest of Bad Luck was trying to calm Sakano down from his latest neurotic fit, Shuichi slipped out the hall, grinning like an idiot.
-
Meanwhile, the studio across the hall was having problems of their own… A.K.A, a childlike, high-functioning idol with his pink companion…
"Nu-uhh, Tohma! Me an' Kumagoro don't like that song! It's not sparkly enough," Ryuichi huffed, tossing aside a candidate for Nittle Grasper's newest song.
"But Ryu-san," Tohma began to protest, but instead had a rather fuzzy pink rabbit shoved in his face.
"'Sides, me an' Kuma-chan wanna do a duet with Shuichi!" The thirty-one year-old brunette said, crossing his arms stubbornly.
"Tohma, fix it!" Noriko hissed, yanking Tohma away from the childish singer rather roughly.
"Why don't we take a short break, Ryu-san?"
-
Shuichi wandered out onto the balcony, staring out into the entrance for N-G Pro. In the background, songs from the company's bands played, but overwriting that were the shouts and groans—and the occasional gunshot explosions— of Bad Luck's crew and members searching for their missing singer.
"Boo!!!"
Shuichi blinked out of his reverie—slightly startled— and turned to face his idol/friend, Ryuichi Sakuma. The man was as illogical as ever, his clothes completely contradicting his behavior and cute pink bunny—a man who acted like a five year old should just not wear leather pants and chains! "Hey, Sakuma-san," Shuichi laughed, receiving the customary hello glomp from both the singer and his rabbit.
Ryuichi giggled, plopping his hands on his hips. "You shoulda seen your face, Shu-chan! I scared you didn't I?"
Shuichi nodded, laughing along.
"Ne, Shu-i-chi, whatcha doing out here?"
"I'm waiting for Yuki," Shuichi replied calmly. "He's bringing Rik-chan, and I think we'll all have lunch together."
Ryuichi scowled, his eyes growing sharp, Kumagoro falling to the floor as the older techno-star reached out and grabbed the railing on either side of Shuichi.
"Wha-what is it Sakuma-san?"
Ryuichi raised a hand and gently touched Shuichi's cheek. "Ne, Shu-i-chi, why couldn't it be me you're waiting for?" he whispered, bringing Shuichi's mouth to his own.
To be continued in Chapter Two: The Most Obvious Truth of All