DISCLAIMER
I cried because I had no Shu, until I met someone that had no fic. . .
well it seemed like a good idea when I started typing it . . . but really .
. . it's lame n_nU.
I can never think of Anything clever for disclaimers, so I usually don't
bother v.v
* * * * *
Somewhere between the credit card and the plumber, Shuichi had fallen into an advanced state of shock. His brain, having achieved critical mass collapsed in on itself leaving him slumped over Hiro.
Hiro might have even been concerned if it wasn't for the snoring.
Meanwhile DreamShuichi was thinking. It's not like he hadn't thought it before. Sure Hiro was good looking enough, and somewhat of a genius on guitar. . . it was just. . . Hiro was just too . . . tooo . . . what was that word? Ah! 'Straight!' And it was seriously ruining Bad Lucks image - and that whole girlfriend thing? Eeee. . . if only he could be convinced to kiss Suguru on stage or something.. . . yeah he'd have to drop that idea to K. . .
"Hiiiiiroooo! Kissssss-suuuuuuuuuu!" Murmured Shuichi in his sleep.
Which prompted Hiro to find a reason to be wide-awake and not in the bedroom. Which was of course to survey the damage done by Ryuichi who had supposedly been left alone to rampage.
Searching the apartment, Hiro came up with a blank.
It was suspiciously quiet. And neat. And mostly undisturbed. . . except for Kumagarou who was industriously reading Hiro's e-mail. Kumagarou's blatant disregard for his privacy was of course secondary to the fact that somewhere Ryuichi was wandering around without Kuma.
Hiro hadn't been present the last time Ryuichi had lost Kumagarou, but the incident was something of infamy at NG, involving a swat team, a very peevish Noriko and a rather large cheesecake, the significance of which no one seemed particularly willing to relate.
In short, this was bad. Very bad.
* * * * *
"I have a can already." Yuki responded cautiously. Shuichi was usually prying the can out of his hand, not offering him refills. Curiouser and curiouser.
"Need any. . . hmm . . . cigarettes or anything?"
"No, I have a full packet." He patted his pocket meaningfully.
"Okay. . . I'm . . ." Think Ryuichi! Think! What could possibly take 15-20 minutes? "Going to make cake? You like strawberry best, right? Right?" Piku- piku.
"I bought take-out. I already ate but there's some leftovers in the fridge. . ." Offered Yuki in return, rather grateful he had if it meant keeping Shuichi out of the kitchen. Dammit! Was there nothing Yuki didn't do for himself? What was the point in being in a co-dependant relationship if you did everything yourself anyway?
"Er. . . I'll go . . . clean the bathroom then!" Kekekeke. . . After all, the real Shuichi and Kumagarou had made an awful mess in there earlier, and while Ryuichi had no intention of actually cleaning up other peoples (and rabbitses) mess, it must have been a good enough excuse, because Yuki grunted assent. Ryuichi let himself out to search the rest of the apartment in peace.
In his stead, Yuki had a very disturbing thought.
Alcohol. . .
Tobacco. . .
Cholesterol. . .
Shuichi was obviously trying to kill him. The fact that Yuki regularly plied himself with all three was irrelevant.
But why would Shuichi all of a sudden be interested in cleaning? The answer was painfully obvious - Shuichi had given up on his reverse-psychology tact to kill Yuki via alcohol etc. . . . and now he was trying something more direct . . . like household chemicals.
He crept over to the doorway, placing one ear to the door. When his attempt to hear anything proved futile (his own error, he had installed the soundproofing himself) he gingerly opened it a crack.
* * * *
Ryuichi soon discovered ransacking peoples homes without Kumagarou just wasn't as fun. Sure he knew where Shuichi kept all the good things hidden, but today he was only supposed to be going through Yuki's stuff.
Boring.
Boring.
Booooooring.
The only cool things he had found so far was a collection of naked pictures of Yuki that Shuichi kept hidden in a secret compartment under the couch and the knowledge of the rather stylish beer brand Yuki drank (and Tohma would pay good money for both).
He still could not understand why Shuichi stayed with Yuki . . . unless maybe Shuichi was really, really thick or something . . . but that couldn't be it . . . Shuichi was one of the smartest people Ryuichi knew. Looked distastefully toward Yuki's underwear drawer, Ryuichi knew what he must do. Tentatively he reached into the drawer.
. . . and yes, Yuki did indeed wear boxers. Why Shuichi had lied about this was beyond Ryuichi's comprehension. Ohhhh! And they were super cute! With little embroidered pictures of Yuki-chans all over. Kawaiiiiii!
"What are you doing?" Asked Yuki from the doorway.
Ryuichi went into panic mode, hiding the underwear behind his back. Cool. Calm. Collected. "Nothing. Nope. Certainly not going through your underwear drawer. . . "
Curses.
"Shuichi. . . that's. . . your underwear." Stated Yuki confused. Naturally the rush of adrenaline resulting from the realization that Shuichi was trying to kill him had sobered him enough to notice the faux pas.
"Of course it is." Ryuichi held up the pants casually. "Yes! It is MY underwear!" Ewwwww. . . it was Shuichi's underwear. . . that was almost as bad as touching girl's underwear . . . "I was just . . . looking."
Thankfully normal conversation with Shuichi was cryptic at best (or maybe it was still the beer), so Yuki was unable to come up with a suitable reply.
"I thought you were going to clean the bathroom."
"Yes. I was going to do that as soon as I have . . . changed my underwear." Ryuichi adopted a suitably horrified look when Yuki didn't look away. Obviously Yuki-san was some sort of . . . of . . . pervert. "Yuki! I'm trying to change!" He yelped, outraged.
A rather baffled Yuki had the dignity to blush and step outside the room, at which Ryuichi put the underwear back in the drawer with a shudder, sure his credibility might be in question, since obviously Shuichi had no problems with Yuki seeing him naked (probably this was due to the fact that they shared a bathroom or something) but no way was he putting on other peoples underwear (except that one time, but they were such nice, pretty panties so he could hardly be faulted . . . anyone would have done the same, and Mika had even said he could keep them).
Meanwhile, Yuki who had been banished form the bedroom was rather confused. Maybe because he was usually the banisher, and never the banishee. He felt like crawling over to that door right now, clawing his way through and demanding to see his naked lover. Wow. So this was what it felt like to be Shuichi. With a shudder, Yuki put this particularly disturbing epiphany to the back of his mind and hoped it was one of those alcohol-induced things you forgot about later.
Somewhere between the credit card and the plumber, Shuichi had fallen into an advanced state of shock. His brain, having achieved critical mass collapsed in on itself leaving him slumped over Hiro.
Hiro might have even been concerned if it wasn't for the snoring.
Meanwhile DreamShuichi was thinking. It's not like he hadn't thought it before. Sure Hiro was good looking enough, and somewhat of a genius on guitar. . . it was just. . . Hiro was just too . . . tooo . . . what was that word? Ah! 'Straight!' And it was seriously ruining Bad Lucks image - and that whole girlfriend thing? Eeee. . . if only he could be convinced to kiss Suguru on stage or something.. . . yeah he'd have to drop that idea to K. . .
"Hiiiiiroooo! Kissssss-suuuuuuuuuu!" Murmured Shuichi in his sleep.
Which prompted Hiro to find a reason to be wide-awake and not in the bedroom. Which was of course to survey the damage done by Ryuichi who had supposedly been left alone to rampage.
Searching the apartment, Hiro came up with a blank.
It was suspiciously quiet. And neat. And mostly undisturbed. . . except for Kumagarou who was industriously reading Hiro's e-mail. Kumagarou's blatant disregard for his privacy was of course secondary to the fact that somewhere Ryuichi was wandering around without Kuma.
Hiro hadn't been present the last time Ryuichi had lost Kumagarou, but the incident was something of infamy at NG, involving a swat team, a very peevish Noriko and a rather large cheesecake, the significance of which no one seemed particularly willing to relate.
In short, this was bad. Very bad.
* * * * *
"I have a can already." Yuki responded cautiously. Shuichi was usually prying the can out of his hand, not offering him refills. Curiouser and curiouser.
"Need any. . . hmm . . . cigarettes or anything?"
"No, I have a full packet." He patted his pocket meaningfully.
"Okay. . . I'm . . ." Think Ryuichi! Think! What could possibly take 15-20 minutes? "Going to make cake? You like strawberry best, right? Right?" Piku- piku.
"I bought take-out. I already ate but there's some leftovers in the fridge. . ." Offered Yuki in return, rather grateful he had if it meant keeping Shuichi out of the kitchen. Dammit! Was there nothing Yuki didn't do for himself? What was the point in being in a co-dependant relationship if you did everything yourself anyway?
"Er. . . I'll go . . . clean the bathroom then!" Kekekeke. . . After all, the real Shuichi and Kumagarou had made an awful mess in there earlier, and while Ryuichi had no intention of actually cleaning up other peoples (and rabbitses) mess, it must have been a good enough excuse, because Yuki grunted assent. Ryuichi let himself out to search the rest of the apartment in peace.
In his stead, Yuki had a very disturbing thought.
Alcohol. . .
Tobacco. . .
Cholesterol. . .
Shuichi was obviously trying to kill him. The fact that Yuki regularly plied himself with all three was irrelevant.
But why would Shuichi all of a sudden be interested in cleaning? The answer was painfully obvious - Shuichi had given up on his reverse-psychology tact to kill Yuki via alcohol etc. . . . and now he was trying something more direct . . . like household chemicals.
He crept over to the doorway, placing one ear to the door. When his attempt to hear anything proved futile (his own error, he had installed the soundproofing himself) he gingerly opened it a crack.
* * * *
Ryuichi soon discovered ransacking peoples homes without Kumagarou just wasn't as fun. Sure he knew where Shuichi kept all the good things hidden, but today he was only supposed to be going through Yuki's stuff.
Boring.
Boring.
Booooooring.
The only cool things he had found so far was a collection of naked pictures of Yuki that Shuichi kept hidden in a secret compartment under the couch and the knowledge of the rather stylish beer brand Yuki drank (and Tohma would pay good money for both).
He still could not understand why Shuichi stayed with Yuki . . . unless maybe Shuichi was really, really thick or something . . . but that couldn't be it . . . Shuichi was one of the smartest people Ryuichi knew. Looked distastefully toward Yuki's underwear drawer, Ryuichi knew what he must do. Tentatively he reached into the drawer.
. . . and yes, Yuki did indeed wear boxers. Why Shuichi had lied about this was beyond Ryuichi's comprehension. Ohhhh! And they were super cute! With little embroidered pictures of Yuki-chans all over. Kawaiiiiii!
"What are you doing?" Asked Yuki from the doorway.
Ryuichi went into panic mode, hiding the underwear behind his back. Cool. Calm. Collected. "Nothing. Nope. Certainly not going through your underwear drawer. . . "
Curses.
"Shuichi. . . that's. . . your underwear." Stated Yuki confused. Naturally the rush of adrenaline resulting from the realization that Shuichi was trying to kill him had sobered him enough to notice the faux pas.
"Of course it is." Ryuichi held up the pants casually. "Yes! It is MY underwear!" Ewwwww. . . it was Shuichi's underwear. . . that was almost as bad as touching girl's underwear . . . "I was just . . . looking."
Thankfully normal conversation with Shuichi was cryptic at best (or maybe it was still the beer), so Yuki was unable to come up with a suitable reply.
"I thought you were going to clean the bathroom."
"Yes. I was going to do that as soon as I have . . . changed my underwear." Ryuichi adopted a suitably horrified look when Yuki didn't look away. Obviously Yuki-san was some sort of . . . of . . . pervert. "Yuki! I'm trying to change!" He yelped, outraged.
A rather baffled Yuki had the dignity to blush and step outside the room, at which Ryuichi put the underwear back in the drawer with a shudder, sure his credibility might be in question, since obviously Shuichi had no problems with Yuki seeing him naked (probably this was due to the fact that they shared a bathroom or something) but no way was he putting on other peoples underwear (except that one time, but they were such nice, pretty panties so he could hardly be faulted . . . anyone would have done the same, and Mika had even said he could keep them).
Meanwhile, Yuki who had been banished form the bedroom was rather confused. Maybe because he was usually the banisher, and never the banishee. He felt like crawling over to that door right now, clawing his way through and demanding to see his naked lover. Wow. So this was what it felt like to be Shuichi. With a shudder, Yuki put this particularly disturbing epiphany to the back of his mind and hoped it was one of those alcohol-induced things you forgot about later.