I'M NO ANGEL

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter , Gravitation or the song I'm No Angel. By the way, if yoiu want to listen to it, go to Youtube. This is Dido version of the song. And yes, I own thil lil' bit story.

Summary: Both of them are troublesome, and with a plethora of secrets. Harry is hiding from his fame, and Shuichi is trying to lick his own wounds from his separation with Yuki. Perfect? Hardly. Things are bound to explode, what with the little brat primadonna trying to be a top dog. Someone is bound to be hurt...

Shout Out: Well, yes, that is a surprise fo me too, but listening to the song can do strange things to my brain. As I don't know much about Gravitation, this thing was written and cobbled out together on a fly. Otherwise, enjoy!

Warning: AU , severely OOC characters, SLASH Harry/Shindou, coarse language, cursing.

He was tired. It didn't help that some of his co-workers messed up again, and he had to fix the damage done. Sometimes, he really wished he hadn't got into all those trouble to hide himself away from... that world, but it couldn't be helped. Stay there, and be hounded like an animal, every hour of a day by reporters along with greedy idiots that called themselves his friends, while in reality, they weren't even passing acquaintances.

America was quite convenient country – lively, wild, full of opportunities and just right for the bloke like him to vanish among the sea of people. Exhaling loudly, he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

He was sick of it.

Sick of loneliness, explosive rows and that uncomfortable feeling he was somehow wrong, even if consciously speaking, he wasn't.

You see, Harrison Black dated a famous singer.

And he knew all the perks that came with dating the hellish brat, too. It was funny, how they met one time – one time only, and that was in a supermarket.

The brat crashed into him, bawling his pretty violet eyes out something fierce, and knocking the milk carton out of Harrison's hands.

Of course, Harrison – or rather, as friends knew him, Harry – was not very happy with the pink – haired nuisance, and promptly told the idiot off. The ditz – because Harry could only describe the brat as a ditz – looked at him with his huge eyes, and somehow, Harry found himself agreeing to... console the young man.

In their short chat, he found out that the brat's name was Shindou – something – he didn't care about that, and he had apparently broke up with his boyfriend. Cue the waterworks.

Harry had thought that he wouldn't have seen the brat in any way, shape or form, but he was wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

The ditz was obviously some kind of a glutton for a punishment, because he somehow found out where Harry lived and followed him home. And of course, Harry, even as cynical as he had become, couldn't let the homeless teenager sleep on the streets, because the gangs were aplenty in the district he lived in – honestly, Harry was surprised the brad hadn't been raped yet, what with his effeminate body and skimpy outfits.

So Harry had, nilly-willy – taken care of the ditz.

The ditz was very firm in being called Shindou.

Time passed, and one day, Harry found his little abode being invaded by Shindou's ... things. His toothbrush. His CD's. His clothes. And who would forget his sweets.

It almost caused him a heart attack, because – just when did he agree to the brat practically moving in the small scrap of a flat he had?

He huffed mirthlessly. That morning seemed so far away now, it wasn't even funny.

And he still remembered their last row.

They had been together for almost three months, Harry bearing with Shindou's outrageous quirks and quibbles, every now and then exploding and sending the brat away. Or trying to. Even if he had been right, and the brat had been in wrong, Shindou somehow made him feel like dirt beneath his shoes, like he would have to be grateful for the time Shindou deigned to spend with him.

Like Shindou wasn't a freeloader who didn't clean after himself and came in the flat at the strangest night hours, often smelling of booze, perfume and sex.

Like Shindou wasn't breaking his heart, little by little.

/Flashback/

It was half an hour to midnight, and Harry was becoming really worried. He had called to the recording studio where Shindou worked, but the maid said that there was no one there, so that ruled out Shindou recording late. The other possibility was, that Shindou had gone partying, as he usually had, and Harry was stuck here – his motorbike had broken down yesterday, and even if it hadn't, he wouldn't have known where to search for the pink – haired annoyance.

"Just where are you?" He muttered to himself, his left hand ruffling his already messy hair again. The green-eyed man was tired, cranky and concerned. But most of all, he was hurt.

He closed his eyes wearily, as he inhaled the stale air. It still smelled of Shindou – how could it not – but right now, the scent that usually soothed his nerves, sickened him to his bones. It was sweet, cloying scent with a hint of bitterness from tobacco. The small kitchenette was dimly lit, and still warm from the summer air. It was a quaint place, barely enough for two persons comfortably working, but it suited Harry, even if Shindou, when they were deeper in the relationship, began to complain that the whole place was making him claustrophobic.

Harry was clad in his boxers and a white short – sleeved shirt that hugged the contours of his body. He didn't like to wear undershirts because of his scarred torso – the prysical reminders of a dark hex that almost took his life when he duelled with Macnair. It still pained him from time to time, but Shindou was absurdly interested in the grotesque collection of skin and meat being arranged in a semblance of a chest. It always made Harry uncomfortable when Shindou demanded that they have sex with Harry's shirt off – it always made him feel like some kind of a monster, and Shindou's fascination with something he considered an ugly reminder of his past, didn't help one whit.

Shuddering slightly, Harry rubbed his chest in order to calm some of his anxiety. He leaned back at the wall, looking at the clock once again. Just when he began losing hope, he heard the known clack of the lock being opened.

Jerking up, Harry's lips thinned as his eyes glowed with anger.

Shuichi stumbled into the flat, cursing as he almost hit the umbrella stand. He was drunk as a skunk, smelled like cigarettes and a booze and it really didn't helpt that he had a quickie or two before he deigned to get home.

Home. His lips quirked into a parody of smile. This little shithoe was no home, but it was better than nothing. It was as far away from Yuki's wide, sterilised-feelign flat as it could be, to the point Shichi felt the walls closing on him. The feeling spooked him, but Harry stubbornly refused to move into better apartment. A couple of their rows circled around that particular pet peevie, and more often tan not, Shuichi found himself kicked out at those occasions. His roomate dealed woth his...eccentricities almost like Yuki, with the exception – he was overly possesive bastard who hounded his steps.

Dark eyes narrowed in anger. He didn't ask for it! He wanted to have uncomplicated relas –rel –something, but the bastard had to latch on him and interrogate Shuichi even when he came half an hour later than he said he would – well, more like hours later, but who cared? Shuichi was now his own man, thank you very much!

He burped, blinking the drinking haze off of his eyes lazily. Now, if only that possesive idiot would leave him alone –

"Where were you?" An annoyingly familiar voice growled at him. Shuichi bit back a curse.

No such luck. Damn.

"Why the fuck do you care?" He bit off harshly. "I'm not a kid, so quit bossing me around! "

The green eyes behind thin eyeglasses narrowed. "No, Shindou. This had gone far enough. "

Shuichi bit off a hysterical laughter. " Far enough? Far enough, you say? As if it isn't enough that i have to live in that rat – infested little hole and treat to your overbearing almightiness, " he sneered at the rapidly paling man. " If anything, you fuckin' owe me one! "

He swayed drunkenly, as he poked the man directly on the chest harshly, making him wince.

"Ohh, yes", he cooed out maliciously. " I forgot, you can't even get a whore to fuck you, what with your scars – "He belched loudly. "So let's lay it on poor, defenseless Shuichi, shall we? "

The man winced under the harsh touch. "Shindou, that's enough". Shuichi barely heard the voice, even with his sharp ears. But he was too buzzed to, nor did he care at the moment. He ruffled his pink hair nonchalantly – or attempted to. Instead, his movement was jerky and awkward.

"You know what. Fuck you. I've given you my best years, and you are trying to keep me in your quaint little aparmrnt, as if I were some kind of a dirty little secret. " Shuichi's voice became progesivelly louder. "Half the time, you treat me like some goddamn kid who still poops in his diapers. "

"Shindou! " The man barked out harshly. The glasses reflected the street light, making Shuichi unable to read Harry's emotions. " I've had enough". The man snarled out. "I'm tired of your whining and complaining and having to wait on you hand and foot. And yes, you are still little brat who is too fucking naive to know anything about the world. You had one relationship crasing and burning – boo-hoo, what a tragedy. Suck it up and stop being such a melodramatic brat queen! "

Shuichi growled. "Heh. You really have a room to talk about that, old man", he sneereed out derisively. "And so what if I am moping after Yuki? He was better than you were at any rate – "

SLAP!

His left cheek, he realized belatedly, stung. Disbelievingly, he touched the handprint.

His stupid, slow brain finally realized that he had gone too far.

"... You hit me. " He noted dumbly.

The man was motionless. Even if Shindou saw a glimpse of regred in thise verdant eyes, they were steeled with resolve that frankkly, made Shuichi scared shitless.

"I'm done with you. " Harry told him, his voice quiet. " I will allow you to sleep off the hangover, but tomorrow, you will give the keys to the flat to me, pack your shit and disappear from my life. "

Harry watched Shindou's eyes widen with fear as the brat gulped loudly. But this time, Harry had had enough. He wasn't about to be anyone's punching bag, least the whinly, little spoiled brat of a singer. He had been through too much, seen too much, and if Shindou couldn't bear with him, why should he with Shindou?

Sure, the brat somehow got into his heart, but that didn't mean Harry should bear with his primadonna behaviour any longer he had to. Not that he didn't understand Shindou being under pressure, what with Bad Luck being on rise, but Shundou had it easy when compared with him.

Closing his eyes, he inhaled though his nose and rubbed his eyes. Go to bed. He ordered, his voice flat.

Shindou quietly lumbered off to their bedroom. Harry let him, as he slouched himself on the small couch, resigning himself to an uncomfortable night.

/End flashback/

True to his word, Harry stood firm and evicted Shindou out of his little flat, and no pleads or threats from Shindou's friends moved him to let him back in.

Sometimes, he heard about his ex-lover – Bad Luck finally seemed to catch a favorable wind in music waters. Well, Shindou appeared to improve his English, at any rate. Harry had to suffer thhough the ditz's mix of English and Japanese, and only a month before they had broken up, Shindou's English became a mite bit better. At least his insults were top notch... Harry truly wondered what those managers were teaching the up and coming music stars. Surely swearing was prohibited?

Well, he had no luck. As soon as he came in his little abode, one of Shindou's little friends – Ryuichi, was it? – ambushed him, and nilly willy, he was stuffed into clubbing clothes – Harry took a perverse enjoyment at Ryuichi's sick face as the man was his chest. Served him right.

Unsurprisnigly, that was a concert of Bad Luck. Harry felt a pand of nostalgia when he was watching Shindou charming his audience. Even if the little brat was an annoying nuisance at the best of times, there was still a redeeming quality somewhere in the brat – deep, deep within him, of course. Harry had seen the teen, and he was just as broken as he had been, even if the circumstances were different. Harry was healing from war, and Shinou was trying to overcome Yuki and his hard attitide.

Looking, back a t their time, they clashed a lot, quarreled a lot, and their copulations were more than not mindless fucks, intended to get them at least a small bit of reprieve from reality.

Sometimes, it worked.. Sometimes, it didnt.

And damn it, he missed Shindou!

Shindou on the stage was more... mature. Not that Harry woudl know, but he fancied himself as a pretty good at knowing Shindou. Closing his eyes, he listened to the music. It wasn't what he would have listened to - he leaned toward old crowd – Beatles and the likes, although he developed a liking for dark bands, like Nightwing or others .

The concert impressed him a little, because it had shown him how far Shindou came. When the brat wanted to, he was pretty impressive.

But the look in Shindou's eyes bugged him a little. It was darker, and more... Sad? If that was a right word. He was clothed in simple black leather trousers with a pair of belts ridding low on his hips, and with almost see – through tight purple sleeveless shirt which hugged his lithe body sexily, and on his ledt upper arm, he had a black band. With a jolt, Harry recognized it as one of the bands he had used in the was, but he had stashed away. It seemed that Shindou, in his puppy – like curiousity, messed among his things, and took a liking to the damn thing. It didin't help it was an official Order sign – it was a black band, with golden sign of a phoenix of a middle, entwined with a dragon. The work was surprisingly detailed and delicate, even if Harry knew it was nigh indestructible, with all those charms and enchantmets.

Shindou's hair was a little longer, reaching his shoulders in a tamed disarray.

"Well, thank you for your participation, people. " Shindou began, his smile easygoing, when his fans chuckled or generally made noises of approval.

"Anyway, there is our last song of the evening -" Here, Shindou became uncertain, his eyes squinting a little, as if he was searching for a particular person in the gathered crown.

"Um – if you don't mind, I would like to sing a new song. "

That caused a buzz between the curious listeners.

"I – "Shindou gulped. "I would like to dedicate it to a special person. Harry – I know I hurt you, and I know we parted on bad terms, but I still love you - "

The crowd was in an uproar.

"- This song is for you", Shindou concluded, biting his lip, as he scratched his neck. " And I am sorry. "

Harry was frozen. He wanted to move, to go away, but he couldn't. For some reason, his feet were glued to the floor.

"So, folks, here it is – I'm No Angel. "

The catchy beat attracted the crowd's attention pretty quicky. It was unlike of Shindou to go with such an... easygoing style of music.

Inhaling, Shindou prepared himself.

And then, he began.

His voice was surprisingly mellow and subdied, nothing like brilliant tones he usually indulged in.

If you gave me just a coin for every time we say goodbye
Well I'd be rich beyond my dreams, I'm sorry for my weary life
I know I'm not perfect but I can smile

It was, as if he was telling a story of his life.

And in a way, Harry realised with a start, he did.

and I hope that you see this heart behind my tired eyes
If you tell me that I can't, I will, I will, I'll try all night
and if I say I'm coming home, I'll probably be out all night

Shindou's eyes were tired, and lost, the green – eyed man noticed. Inhaling, he moved, uncomfortable with that revelation.

Damn it, he promised himself he wouldn't have felt guilty about that brat!

I know I can be afraid but I'm alive
and I hope that you can trust this heart behind my tired eyes

The crowd murmured in confusion, but it seemed that they liked the way where the music was going to.

Shindou closed his eyes, as he reached forward as if trying to catch an invisible hand.

I'm no angel, but please don't think that I won't try
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I can't live my life

With a jolt, Harry's eyes widened. In that little moment, Shindou seemed like an... angel. A broken one, but still one, nonetheless.

I'm no angel, but please don't think that I can't cry
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I won't fly

He smiled a small, sad smile. This song... it spoke exactly about how he felt when he was still in that backward magical world.

And in strange way, he knew that this song was Shindou's apology.

I know I'm not around each night
and I know I always think I'm right
I can believe that you might look around

Harry's heart gave a jolt when he heard those words – he was uncomfortably reminded of their last night, and subsequent row. And it seemed that Shindou still remembered it, if the sparkling tears, which were sliding down his pale face, were any indication.

The light glittered off the small tear tracks, when Shindou was apparently pouring all of his feelings in the song.

I'm no angel, but please don't think that I won't try
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I can't live my life

It was regret, it was hope, it was broken promise, and it was something that niggled at Harry, like a hopeful little puppy, who still tried even when the owner shooed him away.

Tightening his mouth in a thin line, Harry tried to get away, but the crown around him was like live wall, encasing him among the bodies, and not letting him out.

He gulped.

He didn't want that.

No matter how tempting it seemed to be.

It was over.

Over.

Over...

Gritting his teeth, he set on convincing himself that it really was.

At any rate Shindou was better off without him, and he was better off without Shindou.

But his foolish, foolish heart believed otherwise.

I'm no angel, but please don't think that I can't cry
I'm no angel, but does that mean that I won't fly

The music concluded in a gentle shower of sounds, tapering silkily to a muffled sound of the end.

At first, the crowd was quiet.

And then, it exploded in roars of approval.

Finally, he managed to fight himself out of the crowd of excitedly chattering people and squealing girls.

He strode to the ext quickly.

To his salvation.

Almost –

"Harry?"

He flinched at the tentative voice. He had managed to creep to the exit nobody should have knew about, and wasn't it just his luck to be interrupted by him?

Exhaling softly, he rummaged in his jacket for a cigarette.

Lighting it up, he practically jammed the damned thing between his lips.

Hunching his shoulders, he made three steps forward, away from that nuisance –

"It's you." Shinou's voice was strangely meek in the darkened evening.

"Well, yeah." Harry grunted out.

He resisted the temptation of looking back. What was the point?

Shindou would be better off without him.

Without him.

Without...

"You were here," Shindou breathed, half-awed half-hopeful.

"I did." The short answers seemed to be the safest route.

He heard shuffling behind his back, and tensed.

The silence between them was thick and uncomfortable, full of unsaid words.

"I better go home." Harry muttered out, as he exhaled the smoke, trying to calm his nerves.

"NO!" Both of them jumped up at Shindou's loud voice. Harry was pressed to look at the source of the loud voice.

Both of them froze.

Green eyes stared into violet ones, and Harry could see the smudges of eye bags under Shindou's violet orbs.

"What the hell are you doing to yourself?"

The question was blurted out without as much of his conscious effort.

At Shindou's hopeful look, Harry clamped his mouth shut, glaring at the brat, making the brat – no, man now, shrink back a little, those gorgeous violet eyes dim a little.

"As if you're looking any better," Shindou bit back, growling a little.

Harry huffed.

"None of ya business, boy." He retorted. "Now, excuse, me, but I have to - "

He managed a yelp before his head was dragged down and a familiar strawberry and tart taste of Shindou exploded on his tongue.

"I apologized, didn't I?" Shindou panted out, as they separated for air. "I know I was being a brat. I know I hurt you. But damn you, don't you ever behave like you are a saint yourself!" The young man snarled into Harry's surprised face.

Harry huffed. "What do you want?" He asked. He was tired of fighting, His brain was saying to stay the hell away from he brat, no matter how delectable he had became, but his heart was another matter.

He was distinctly aware of the brat – Shindou - being almost at tall as he was. So much about the height intimidation, he thought to himself fleetingly.

"I want a chance." Shindou managed to say out with a calm voice. Harry's eyebrow quirked.

Oooh, how blunt.

"What makes you think that you deserve one?" He said flippantly. "Maybe I already have a new boy-toy."

Of course, he was deliberately cruel, but he was cruel to be kind, really.

Or just plain sadomasochistic.

The sunset made Shindou's face glow with light and painted the soft shades on that unmarred skin.

The singer winced. "I had Suguru tail you – " He mumbled out, aware of the older man's stiffening body.

"You what?" Harry snarled out. He didn't know whether should he be flattered or insulted he had been tailed by that perverted reject of a monk.

"Oh, come on!" Shindou cried out, exasperated. "I want a chance, is that too much to ask for?"

Dark eyebrow twitched as Harry contemplated what he should do.

First, he was still clinging to the bra – Shindou.

Second – if he knew the stubborn arse, he would be hounded, and it was already bad enough Shindou outed his name. He really, really, didn't need to be outed more than he already was.

He jerked out of Shindou's grip.

"Fine." He grumped out. Shindou beamed, and damn it, if Harry hadn't missed that sunny grin of his.

"But we are doing things my way."

Shindou grimaced. "Just no that rat-hole of yours," He nearly begged the man.

Green eyes looked at the cringing singer sardonically.

"What makes you think I will allow you back in my flat?" He said dryly, making Shindou gape unattractively.

"Oh, come on!" Shinou whined, as the man began to walk away, prompting him to scurry after him.

Harry quickly hid a smile behind a stern mask as he began bargaining with Shindou on what would constitute of giving a second chance.

The sunset was brilliant, painting the sky in red, golden and orange streaks.

Finally, they settled on a drink in an unobtrusive little cafe Harry claimed they have absolutely divine ginger cookies and hot chocolate.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

It was a beginning.

The End