Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Please give credit where it's due.
Warnings: Written quickly due to lack of sleep and boredom. Not beta-ed.
For Akina. Hope you like it.
Hybrid Dream
"Shuichi…"
A shadow loomed over him, dimming the light over his roughly scratched lyrics, and before he realized it, he'd glanced up, eyes wide. Pink hair cupped his ear in a tender embrace of possessiveness as he tilted his head back, veiling half of his violet gaze in a curtain of magenta silk.
"Sakuma-"
Ryuichi, his face twisted into a mask of stoic suppression, suddenly reached forward, fingers tightly wrapping around a slender wrist.
"Shuichi…"
The youth was pulled forward, sprawling across the table he sat at, and hungry hands were immediately all over him, slipping under his shirt and down his ribs, brushing at the front of his jeans. Shuichi squirmed, blushing.
"Sakuma-s-saaaaaaan!" His breath caught in his throat when warm lips touched his own, a tongue skillfully prying into his mouth. All he could think then was that Ryuichi tasted like burnt sugar and fuzzy chocolate and nothing else.
Chests pressed together, Ryuichi climbing onto him, straddling his waist, and Shuichi moaned in protest, weakly shoving against the body pushing him down.
This was just too weird.
"Sak-" His voice became strangled, his mouth full of Ryuichi's tongue, and his brain seemed to malfunction. He hadn't really thought about his idol this way. He had Yuki. He loved Yuki.
But Ryuichi…
"Ah, Shuichi," a haunting tone murmured against his ear a moment later. "We're so alike."
"I…"
"I've always wondered…" Ryuichi trailed off, licking at his throat. Shuichi wiggled, shoving against his chest.
"No! Sakuma-san!"
In an instant, the weight was gone, the hands and mouth departed from him.
"Idiot!"
Shuichi blinked at the new sound and found himself looking into lime eyes flaming with something akin to anger.
"Y-Yuki?"
"Who else?" There was snort, and the writer rolled off of him, situating himself so that he was lying on his side. Shuichi coughed.
A…dream?
"You know," Eiri muttered, partially aware of his lover's unusual silence. "You and my brother should become better friends."
The singer only stared at the ceiling, mouth agape.
End