[Disclaimer: I do NOT own Gravitation, in ANY way, shape, or form. I DO, however, own my stories.]

Bulletproof

'Oh my God... I can't do this...' Shuichi thought. He paced his dressing room, panicking. 'Kami-sama! I can't sing this! Yuki will never forgive me!' As he continued wearing a large circle into the dark-blue carpet, a knock came at the door.

"Shuichi!" Called Hiro's voice from the other side of the wooden door. "You ready?"

"H-h-hai." The terrified singer replied.

'Oh, shit.' Hiro rubbed his forehead, guessing what had his best friend stammering. "Don't worry about the song. It took you months to work up the nerve to show it to us and we've been practicing it for weeks! You can do this!"

After a few seconds, the door pulled back and Shuichi appeared with a small smile on his face. "Thanks, Hiro." With a nod of his head, Hiro led Shuichi through the backstage halls.

"Yo! Ready?" Fujisaki called to his band mates.

"Hell YES!" The pink-haired boy shouted, an absurdly large smile plastered on his face.

The arena lights dimmed slightly and the three moved toward the stage; Fujisaki, smiling and reserved, Hiro, quietly thrilled, and Shuichi, leaping to center stage with all the energy of a five-year-old being given a toy-store.

Grabbing the mic, the vocalist waved wildly to the large, swaying audience. "Hey everyone! We're BAD LUCK!" While the thousands of fans screamed, Shuichi turned to smile at Fujisaki, signaling him to start "Spicy Marmalade."

-oOo-

A tall, blond man stood near the back of the amphitheater, stoically observing the electrified display of music and bodies. Hands in his pockets, he watched the sprightly vocalist sway his slender hips in time with the erratic beat.

'Damn it. I should be at home, working on my novel. Not wasting my time here. Why the hell am I listening to this? … Oh, right. Because that stupid brat wouldn't get off my back about it... literally.' The writer groaned as he settled further against the concrete wall.

-oOo-

Sweat dripping slowly down his round face, Shuichi smiled brightly out at the large crowd.

"Thank you! Well, this is the last song of the night for us! And, it's a new one. I hope you enjoy it!" Backing up from the microphone a bit, the pink-haired boy took a deep breath, looking back at Hiro for support. The red-head nodded with a kind grin and Fujisaki began the keyboard intro.

Returning to the black mic, the energetic vocalist began rocking his body gently in time with the music.

~Just a simple touch, just a little glance~

~makes me feel like flying.~

~But where are you tonight?~

~Something isn't right.~

~Can you please stop hiding?~

The tempo picked up as Shuichi gripped the microphone tighter.

~I am trying not to think about~

~All the things you did before,~

~But sometimes it all just gets to me!~

~I can't fake it anymore!~

~I'll stay with you, but remember,~

~And be careful what you do,~

~'Cause I'm not bulletproof.~

In the back of the room, the blond's eyes widened and his jaw went slightly slack.

~In your secret place, staring into space,~

~Leaves me feeling frozen.~

~I just need to feel that what we have is real~

~And I'm the one you've chosen!~

~I am trying not to think about~

~All the things you did before,~

~But sometimes it all just gets to me!~

~I can't fake it anymore!~

~I'll stay with you, but remember,~

~And be careful what you do,~

~'Cause I'm not bulletproof.~

Shuichi closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and he turning his head down, as Fujisaki's tones oscillated; the haunting electronic sounds echoed through the large space.

~I am trying not to think about~

~All the things you did before,~

~But sometimes it all just gets to me!~

~I can't fake it anymore!~

~I'll stay with you, but remember,~

~And be careful what you do,~

~'Cause I'm not bulletproof.~

~And I'm not bulletproof.~

~((And I'm not bulletproof...))~ Hiro and Fujisaki sang softly.

~And I'm not bulletproof.~

~((And I'm not bulletproof...))~

~I'm not bulletproof!~

~((And I'm not bulletproof...))~

~I'm not bulletproof!~

~((And I'm not bulletproof...))~

~I'm not bulletproof.~

~((I am trying not think about...))~

~I'm not bulletproof.~

~((But sometimes it all just gets to me...))~

~I'm not bulletproof.~

~((I'll stay with you, but remember))~

~I'm not bulletproof.~

~(('Cause I'm not bulletproof...))~

~I'm not bulletproof.~

~(('Cause I'm not bulletproof...))~

Shuichi ended with a whisper of,

~I'm not bulletproof...~

And a heavy sigh.

With a deep bow from Shuichi, the band made their exit, the crowd cheering and clapping... some crying. One audience member, though, simply stared dumbstruck at the place where the pink-haired singer had only moments before stood. The throng of BAD LUCK fans began to make their way out of the doors, forming uncoordinated lines and raving about the performance -the last song in particular.

-oOo-

"Oh God... I'm so dead..." Shuichi mumbled, walking in a tight circle behind the stage, wringing his hands in fear. "Oh God... Yuki's gonna kill me!" His amethyst eyes screamed of trepidation and terror.

"Relax. The song was great, the crowd seemed to love it, and that was probably the best singing you've ever done." Fujisaki smiled as he wiped his face with a towel.

Hiro placed a hand on his best friend's small shoulder. "Yeah. The song was perfect and you got to say how you felt."

"But..." Shuichi pitifully looked up into the guitarist's silver eyes. "Yuki's just gonna to get mad at me... I never should have written that song." He hung his head, as if in mourning. In a way, he was. He was mourning the oncoming death of his relationship with the man he loved. Sure, things weren't perfect and he was never sure if the blond didn't just keep him around for occasional sex, but he couldn't imagine losing what they had. As dysfunctional -and possibly one-sided- as it was.

Suddenly he felt a small ring of cold metal press against his temple. "None of that!" K said, nudging Shuichi's head with the gun for emphasis. "The song's sure to be a hit and we can't have you shutting down now."

No longer very affected by K's 'subtle' death-threats, he nodded his head. "I won't." Without looking up, he made his way to his dressing room.

He sat on the worn-out couch, thinking, 'I wonder if he's even going to come here or if he's just gonna go back home and hibernate in his office... like always... I should never have written that stupid song! Because of it, Yuki's just gonna hate me... he's gonna ignore me for days now... he's going to leave me... again...' Tears of regret coursed down his face as he hugged his legs up to his chest and rested his forehead on his knees. "Yuki... I know it's my fault but... Please, don't leave me... I'll do anything just... Don't leave me again... Please, Yuki...!" He gripped tightly to his legs, digging his short fingernails into the caramel-colored flesh, as a new bout of tears and sorrow hit him like a wave on the rocks.

-oOo-

"Yuki..." The blond heard from inside his lover's room. "I know it's my fault but... Please, don't leave me... I'll do anything just... Don't leave me again... Please, Yuki...!" Those words and the sounds of sobbing from within froze him in his place.

'What have I done?' The author thought to himself. 'I never meant to hurt him... And, now I've got him thinking that I'm gonna fucking leave him if he's honest and says something I might not want to hear... What the hell have I done?'

Trying to be as quiet as possible, Yuki turned the tarnished nickel nob and opened the door. Looking over at his lover huddled on the couch, he moved quickly, pulling the crying man into his chest.

A gasp slipped between Shuichi's lips as he felt himself being pulled into a pair of strong arms, Yuki's distinct scent enveloping him.

"Y-Yuki...?"

"I'm not going anywhere." He said with conviction. He heard the shaking boy in his arms gasp again and he tightened his hold on the tan frame. "I promise."

At first, all Shuichi could feel was shock and disbelief, but the longer Yuki held on, the more the blond's words sunk in.

The singer twisted in his lover's embrace and threw his arms around his neck. "I love you, Yuki."

The older man pressed his lips to Shuichi's forehead, tasting a small amount of salt from the dried sweat. "I love you too, Shuichi." The small body stiffened in his arms.

"C... Could you s-say that... again?" Shuichi stammered.

Yuki pulled back slightly to look into the boy's purple eyes. "I love you, Shuichi."

Quickly, a smile spread across the pop-star's face. The merest hint of a grin graced Yuki's face as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Shuichi's.

[Bulletproof by Kerli Koiv]

[Thanks for reading. Please review. Every little bit helps. If you want me to write a lemon, let me know.]