Tohma leaned back in his chair and sighed. He was bored. It wasn't as though he had nothing to do—quite the contrary, his desk was stacked with a magnitude of paperwork ranging from new members waiting to be signed on, to Nittle Grasper's new lyrics waiting to be set to music. No, he had plenty to do, so much that even if he started to work right then he would only finish about a quarter of it by sunset. It was just that he was in that truly bored mood, the one in which one can stare blankly at nothing for hours with no desire to do differently.
Lately, that being the last half hour, Tohma had found that his eyes tended to wander to the black, bold clock hanging on the wall above the door in between two picture frames, one of which was a group shot of Nittle Grasper and the other was a stage shot of Ryuichi. There was a knick in the glass of the clock above the number three. The second hand wasn't very accurate—Tohma noticed that it seemed not to move at all when it got near the six, but around the twelve it took huge jumps that equaled more than one sixtieth of the face. The light made a glare that blocked the seven.
It was ten thirty-four and twelve seconds.
Thirteen seconds.
Fourteen.
Fifteen. The second hand was a little past the three, but Tohma had counted fifteen.
Tohma picked up a pen off his desk and studied it briefly before setting it down again. He rested his elbow on the armrest and cradled his cheek in his hand, while reaching into his pocket with the other and pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. He shoved the paper down on the desk next to the pen and stared at it with his lips pursed, and then leaned forward and smoothed it out as he looked at the name and number scribbled upon it.
He could have given it to Ryuichi. It didn't matter that Ryuichi would have lost it within thirty minutes at the most. He could have given it to him anyway. It would have been better that way.
He didn't know why this was bothering him so much. That officer had just been a stupid fan girl, a clone of all the other fan girls. Shuichi had overreacted. So what if she had let him off without a ticket? She didn't deserve a private phone call from any of them for it. She should have been honored just to be able to see him personally, to be able to tell her friends that she pulled Seguchi Tohma over for speeding. None of them could keep up with all their fans; it was impossible. Shuichi was just too caring for his own good. He was an amateur, still unused to the profession. That was all.
And yet, Tohma still found himself thinking that he just might give Ryuichi the paper. Perhaps just to get this off his mind.
Tohma pushed the piece of paper back into his pocket just as the office door flew open and Ryuichi came in, dragging Shuichi behind him. He pulled Shuichi to the middle of the room and flung him forward, but caught him just before Shuichi took a nosedive into Tohma's desk and held him in a tight hug. Tohma narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"Ryuichi-san," Tohma started, closing his eyes lightly as he began to push himself to his feet, but Ryuichi's strangely deep voice stopped him.
"Tohma." There was a short pause in which Ryuichi seemed to be trying to initiate a staring contest with Tohma, though after being unsuccessful, he smirked dangerously. "Na, what do you think of Shu-chan?"
Shuichi whimpered as Ryuichi buried his face into his shoulder and moaned softly. Tohma cleared his throat, keeping up his façade.
"Ryuichi-san, what are you doing?" Tohma questioned.
Ryuichi let out short snicker as his right hand slid up Shuichi's neck to caress his cheek. Shuichi whimpered even louder.
"Sakuma-san, what are you doing?" Shuichi repeated, his voice tight and strangely high-pitched.
"I think Shu-chan's pretty," Ryuichi said in a voice barely above a whisper. He lifted his head of the boy's shoulder and moved his hand down to rest on the collar of Shuichi's shirt. "Don't you think so, Tohma?"
Tohma folded his hands on top of his desk and glared at Ryuichi, though the latter seemed unperturbed as he began to work at the top button of Shuichi's shirt. He undid it quickly and moved on to the next, pulling the collar open to expose as much of Shuichi's chest as possible.
"Uhn, Sakuma-san," Shuichi whispered, but as Ryuichi's hand slid down to the trim of his shirt and then ran up to grope his stomach, Shuichi felt his body freeze and he was unable to do anything but stand there and whimper.
"Ryuichi-san," Tohma said with a sigh, "I suggest you stop this."
Ryuichi smiled at Tohma mockingly before removing his hand from under Shuichi's shirt. Shuichi's body relaxed when he did this, but only lasted until Ryuichi grabbed his collar and forced open his shirt, sending buttons flying across the room.
"NAAA! HE'S GOING TO RAPE ME!!! HELP!!! HELP ME!!!" Shuichi cried as loudly as he could.
"Ryuichi-san, stop right now. You're making Shindo-san uncomfortable," Tohma said, a note of concern in his voice, though he did not move to get up. Not only that, but Ryuichi caught a glint in Tohma's eyes that suggested he meant differently than his words dictated. He chuckled maniacally and pulled Shuichi's shirt from his body entirely.
Shuichi, meanwhile, had fallen into another one of his frozen trances in which he could not move, though he was blushing madly and staring at Tohma pleadingly. He had no idea why Ryuichi was doing something like this. Hadn't Ryuichi said that he was going to see if Tohma liked him back? Shuichi could not see how this was going to prove anything. Not to mention he felt exceptionally exposed when bare-chested in front of Tohma.
"When're you gonna stop me, huh, Tohma?" Ryuichi asked mockingly. He stepped around behind Shuichi and pushed his hands under the boy's arms and around his stomach, groping the soft skin there. Tohma watched intently, as if expecting something to happen, though a hint of nervousness was beginning to creep into his eyes.
Ryuichi leaned into Shuichi and pushed his hands lower until they were resting on the button of Shuichi's pants. He looked at Tohma challengingly.
"How much are you gonna let me take off?" Ryuichi said as he yanked the button open.
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All heads turned to see as the tall, handsome blonde entered the building, solemnly staring at the ground and walking with a tired grace that almost seemed impossible to belong to a mere human being. A secretary jumped to her feet and ran up to him as he approached the elevator. She blushed as she bowed and spoke quickly, "Sir, I'll have to ask you to not smoke in the building."
She was met with narrow golden eyes that stared at her harshly, looking ready to make a kill, though he did not heed her request. The secretary cowered away and clutched the notebook in her hands tightly. She bowed again, though this one was quite a deal deeper than the last.
"Sir, this building is not open to the public," the secretary said, refusing to leave her bow so that she would not have to meet the golden eyes. "I'll have to ask you to leave."
"Tell Tohma it's Yuki Eiri." With that he turned and stepped into the elevator, his eyes returning to the ground and remaining there even as he pressed the button for his floor. The entire procession in the lobby stopped and intently watched as the elevator doors closed and all sat in still silence of awe for several minutes afterward until business resumed as usual.
Yuki marched angrily through the halls, starting to become annoyed by the constant smoke he was inhaling with his angry breaths. He pulled the cigarette from his mouth and threw it into the base of a potted plant as he walked by, and then proceeded to search his pocket for another all the while not breaking his stride once. This was not a good day. He had known it would not be a good day since he had awoken early that morning to find his boyfriend in the arms of another, even if it did seem like a friendly, fully-clothed sleep hug. Yuki Eiri was not the forgiving type.
Not only that, but since he was sixteen he vowed to return the controlling, I-want-to-make-your-life-hell attitude to Tohma, and he still had yet to. This was not his day, and he had to take his frustrations out on someone. Tohma just seemed to be the perfect target.
Yuki marched past Tohma's secretary and grabbed the door handle of Tohma's office. He heard the secretary shout, "Sir, you can't go in there," in a voice strangely like the first secretary he had dealt with, though he promptly ignored her and swung the door open forcefully.
"I need to talk to—" Yuki started, though he stopped himself with his eyes wide as he took in the scene before him. Shuichi was standing in the middle of the office, half-naked and staring at him guiltily, with another boy's arms around him, whom with a few seconds of thought Yuki recognized as the vocalist Sakuma Ryuichi. Tohma was sitting at his desk, his back straight and his eyes wide, looking the guiltiest of the three, as though he had initiated this for his own amusement.
"Eiri-san, what—" Tohma began, though he was cut off when Yuki glared at him with the most menacing look he could manage. Tohma leaned backwards, his lips drawn into a straight line, and broke eye contact to begin to stare attentively at his desk. Yuki snarled and turned his glare to Shuichi, whom had now separated from the other vocalist but was still standing close by.
Shuichi watched Yuki fearfully as the latter approached with his teeth clenched angrily. He stopped only inches away from Shuichi and pushed his hand into the left front pocket of the singer's pants. The left front pocket, he remembered, was where Shuichi always kept his key.
Sure enough, there it was. Yuki closed it in his fist and pulled it out, then held it up in front of Shuichi, whom had yet to make a noise. Shuichi looked at the key confusedly, and then reached up to take it, but Yuki quickly caught his wrist with his free hand.
"You're out," Yuki said, stepping away and shoving the key into the pocket of his own black dress pants. He turned and pointed at Tohma. "As are you."
Tohma opened his mouth to speak, but Yuki quickly stormed away, making his pure anger evident in his heavy feet. He pulled the door shut with a deafening slam, leaving the three to stand in an awkward silence.
Shuichi turned, his face expressionless, and knelt down to begin gathering his clothes. He pulled his shirt back on, though being unable to close it because of the missing buttons, he wore it like a vest. He then shuffled to the door and gripped the handle, pausing as if he were debating something in his head. He then turned around and stared contemptuously at the two remaining with tears in his eyes.
"I hate both of you," he hissed, and then swung open the door and ran out of sight.
TBC
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Notes: I posted this a total of, what is it, about twelve hours after the last chapter, so if you're confused about the police girl, read that chapter… You might have skipped it accidentally…
Oh, yes, and sorry… This chapter is kinda short, but I wrote it in one night and I thought that was a really good ending, so…
I now gots definite plans for Ryu-chan, yay, 'cause Ryu-chan deserves to get a part in all my fics… Still, I dunno how I'm gonna end this fic…if I ever do… Maybe I should just keep writing it forever and ever and ever until it has fifty billion chapters and the good people at FF.Net say, "Take it down because you're wasting bandwidth," and I say, "Sorrys," and sadly take it down…
Sorry, was I babbling? It's rather hard to type with one hand, but my keyboard is always in my lap because my desk is too high and it hurts my wrists, but I also have a tendency to sit in weird, awkward positions, so occasionally I'm holding myself up with one hand and typing with the other and it's not a very easy thing to do…
Until next time.
Cassi
