飛行機
(Can't think of an English title)
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Murakami Maki © or Sony Entertainment (Kimi no Boku) ©. The fanfiction belongs to me.
Warning: Gravitation is a Yaoi manga. If you dislike this pairing, please leave immediately. Flamers are retards. Nothing to learn from them, so there! Take that, Reiji! Meow ha! XD
Plot Cockroach: I'm not going over the R rating… It's just a slice of lemon. Not all the way lemon! Well, at least I gave him what I promised. Heh.
Pairing: Yuki x Ryuichi, Yuki x Shuichi
Summary: Shuichi is away on a tour, and Yuki is… a little distracted by new sights. Once things get started, it's usually hard to stop them.
Note: Manga-wise. Whatever I forget, I mix in.
_________________
Two – Summer Showers
"Good morning Yuki-san!"
The curtains were parted slightly to allow stray rays of the sun in, pitching the room into a dim golden hue. Yuki felt a cool towel on his face, and opened his eyes. It was already the second week into Ryuichi's stay for that summer… did he mention that he had agreed to let Ryuichi stay until he left for America?
Yuki groaned as he sat up. It wasn't at all that difficult to live with Nittle Grasper's vocalist. While Ryuichi was quite alike Shuichi in behavior, he was, as he was, different, and in more than just looks. Ryuichi was older and more mature, though he did at times talk to Kumagorou. He kept house well, cleaned up after himself so that he 'won't be a burden to Yuki-san', and was so often out that Yuki hardly saw him at all except on specific days and on weekends.
"Hey! Don't sit up suddenly na no da!" Ryuichi cautioned. "Are you feeling better?"
Right. And just five days ago, he had gotten sick.
Throughout that time span, Ryuichi had helped nurse him. To his surprise, Yuki hadn't hindered his kindness. While the singer was busy, he was pretty reassuring and responsible. He'd get up in the mornings to cook, clean and make Yuki his breakfast and watch him eat and swallow his medication, fluff his pillows and came back during lunch to check up on the blond. He wasn't very smothering – like Yuki had said, he was, after all, not all that difficult to live with.
"Yeah. Don't worry about me."
Ryuichi half-smiled at Yuki, shaking his head. He walked off to the other end of the room to set a few items on the work desk straight. "You're a stubborn one na no da."
"I guess," Yuki replied as he observed the singer from the corner of his eye.
Ryuichi's hair rippled like water as he moved, the simple motion making him appealing even in the blond's eyes. As the blond leaned back, he noted how exceptionally young the vocalist looked, how chiseled his features were, his face, his voice, everything, how alike they were to Shuichi's, and yet how different.
Shuichi was fresh, like air and energy fused together.
Ryuichi was as immortal as the stars.
Old yet young. Yuki couldn't rightly put his finger into the subject. Ryuichi was something like fragments of glass for a puzzle. All the pieces looked alike, and yet they were diverse, one wrong fit would shatter the entire collection. Even as he stared, Ryuichi seemed framed by perfection, yet marred by limitations… he was truly a beautiful being. This was getting complex. Was this… what was it that he was feeling?
The writer sighed deeply.
"Yuki-san?"
"Yes?"
"I thought you said something na no da." Ryuichi brushed the subject off, feeling that the blond didn't want to tackle the issue at the moment. "Anyway, you're well enough now, I think, to work again, but not too much, okay? You can sit here at the bed and have it easy over your novel. Hey! Maybe you can write one about a sick man na no da!"
"That's a great idea!" Kumagorou agreed wholeheartedly.
"Yeah! That's because Yuki-san has experienced being sick, see?" Ryuichi turned to Yuki. "What do you think?"
"I'll sleep it over."
"Okay," Ryuichi stalked out of the room. "I'll be taking a bath, if you need anything, just holler! Kumagorou will hear you and I'll be right out to get stuff for you na no da, don't you dare move!"
As Yuki lay down against the snowy white pillows, he heard the tap turn on, and water running, hitting against the tiles. He closed his eyes, cursing the thin walls of his apartment – his imagination left nothing to be wanted. He thought of the singer standing in the warm shower, pearls of water trailing down his sensuous body… naked, steam rising to the ceiling as he was bathed in a blue light that streamed in through the tinted glass of the ventilating window.
Distantly, Ryuichi's voice floated to the novelist's keen ears. Yuki couldn't hear the words, but he knew the tune well – he had heard it a million times off his younger brother's videos, imported from America after the disbanding of Nittle Grasper. It hadn't been very important or impressive then, but it now was. Yuki could feel the singer's skin on his fingers, his voice getting louder in his ears and the foreign words becoming clearer, and in his mind's eye the brunet gasped the tune in sync to each thrust.
'Summer rain, falling rain
Dance on to my pain
For your smile is worth more than dewy diamonds
The rain of my world…'
Ryuichi nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard a loud knock on the door. Hastily he grabbed a towel, wrapping it round himself, and he slid the door open to reveal Yuki. The singer heaved a sigh of relief.
"Yuki-san! I thought it was some burglar!"
The novelist didn't answer. He pushed himself into the tiny room, cornering the older man against the wet wall. The steaming warm water cascaded down their shoulders, despite which Ryuichi found himself shivering.
"Yu… Yuki-san?"
"Yes?"
"I…" vaguely the singer remembered a mop of pink hair, but his thoughts were spiraling out of control. There was a really gorgeous man in the bathroom with him, wet, lusting and… he himself was clad with nothing but a drenched towel. Timidly he stared at Yuki through his lashes, a little afraid. Ryuichi wasn't exactly a fan of one-night stands… but he knew that he'd never be able to help it.
Sakuma Ryuichi had lost his heart to Yuki Eiri.
"Yes, you."
The blond writer's fingers pried his towel off, letting it fall to the ground with a splash. Massaging the vocalist's shoulders, Yuki steadied Ryuichi against the wall, kissing around his full lips. The singer's eyes fluttered shut, gently contacting against his cheeks as he tilted his head to savor the intimacy. The bright shade of pink dulled out and disappeared from the sight and minds of the two people… at that moment; only a blue hue existed between them, washing them anew.
Yuki ran his fingers down Ryuichi's side. The singer gasped and shuddered, and Yuki moved his lips down to his neck and bit down, hard. Ryuichi's eyes blinked open in shock for an instant, before they closed again to the novelist's expert ministrations. A tear of joy trickled down his cheek, the warm water washing it away into nothingness.
As the steam floated up and escaped through the air went, the apartment was silent.
_________________
For the remainder of the week, Yuki hadn't received a single call from anyone. Not that he minded. That meant less interruption from anyone. It was odd that Shuichi never called back even once, but at that point Yuki didn't really remember either. A mop of brown hair ruffled slightly under his chin, marking the awakening of his newfound lover.
"Are you awake yet?"
"Eiri?" the brunet rubbed his eyes. He then sat up quickly as he remembered something. "OH YAY! ARE WE GOING ARE WE GOING ARE WE GOING NA NO KA?"
"I'd thought you'd forgotten," Yuki half-smiled, a little absently. "Hoped, actually."
"You're mean," Ryuichi laughed, poking the blond. "Come on! Let's go! Let's get ready and go!"
As Ryuichi disappeared from view, Yuki allowed a full grin to spread over his face. By some chance, the singer had actually been able to con him into attending some comic book function that Kumagorou wanted to be present at. Apparently there would also be novels there, so maybe Yuki could check some stuff out as well, as he put it.
Kumagorou had on his best bow, and the singer bounced up and down in anticipation. Yuki gave him a once over and nodded in approval. Ryuichi had good taste in dressing, nothing he wore outside the stage was ever too tacky or too plain, it was simple, yet interesting. His sense of fashion leaned more towards American styles, but Yuki could live with that. Quickly showering and putting on a dress shirt and slacks, he casually stalked to the living room.
"You look great na no da!"
"Don't flatter me."
"No, really, you do!" Kumagorou supported the statement.
Yuki shook his head, opening the door and ushering the singer out. Grabbing his keys, they made it for the convention. Yuki drove almost as wildly as Ryuichi would, and the singer had a good time playing with his shirt buttons. The blond occasionally sneaked glances his way, this doing causing Ryuichi to smirk seductively at him when their eyes met.
"Stop that."
"What?" the singer asked, his tone slightly husky.
"Playing with your shirt. It gives off bad vibes," Yuki bit on his cigarette, trying to keep himself in control.
"Well, you never complained last night," Ryuichi grinned wickedly.
"Little slut."
"Oh… so, does that makes you a pimp na no ka?"
"No, it makes me a little slut's sex master," Yuki gathered his wits, his attention diverted back to the road. "Now shut up and give me some peace, baka."
"Fine," Ryuichi huffed, putting on his sunglasses. Though, the evil smirk was still evident on his lips. Yuki couldn't help laughing in his heart, that was the beauty of Sakuma Ryuichi. He hardly took offense or was greatly troubled by teasing or taunting or even rude remarks. He could swallow insults and turn tables with one of the most innocent smiles anyone had ever seen… taking them lightly, seeing life as a big joke.
At a junction the car swung to the right, jolting the singer to his senses. "Hey! The convention is the other way!"
"I said, shut up," Yuki smirked. "I know where we're headed, okay?"
"… Pimp."
"You're a quick one." The car skidded into a halt at a deserted area. Unfastening both their seatbelts, Yuki flung Ryuichi to the backseat, his grin never fading. He started tugging at the buttons as Ryuichi squirmed to get to a more comfortable position. Once there, he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. Yuki stopped short, staring at him.
"I promised some of my fans that you and I would be there."
"Oh?"
The wicked smirk grew wider by inches as Ryuichi pushed a dial button. He clamped a hand over the blond's mouth, listening intently at the earpiece. The moment the call was received, the singer gave one of the most horrendous sounding coughs in history. Choking up, Ryuichi recited his excuse to the receiver.
"COUGH! COUGH WHOOP CHOKE COUGH! Mr.… Mr. Man? I COUGH can't make it… COUGH I'm having… WHOOP one of the horrible coughs na no da…. COUGH and Yuki-san had promised… WHOOP to look after me… COUGH tell everyone that I'm ill… I'm sorry… COUGH we can't make it…"
There was a hurried buzz of assurance over the phone.
"Okay… t-thanks Mr. Man… COUGH thanks a lot…"
With one last whoop Ryuichi hung up. The two men stared at each other before bursting into laughter.
"Where did you learn that, slut boy?"
"I learnt that to get out of schedules to make out… from Tohma." Yuki's eyes widened.
"As in Seguchi?"
"Yeah. Where else did you think he was when he was sick? How did Mika-san end up marrying him?" Ryuichi laughed, he was revealing one of Nittle Grasper's most scandalous secrets after all.
"I thought she was a gold digger," Yuki shrugged. "It's a family trait."
'Well, you're rich."
"And you're not?"
"My rich man."
"My idiot." Yuki didn't spare another thought as he ripped the offending shirt apart at the seams. Ryuichi yelped.
"HEY! That's my new shirt na no da!"
"An annoying one," Yuki chipped in, at that moment more aroused than tact. Ryuichi said no more; Yuki's ministrations were good. Suddenly the space in the salon car didn't seem so cramped as before, the singer forgot the world, himself, and the rain outside that was beginning to fall, pit pattering on the windshield.
_________________
"HOO YAY!" Ryuichi stretched to the left, dancing to the beat, mimicking the movements on the TV screen. He began to hop energetically, an imaginary microphone in his hand; so much that Kumagorou was on the verge of falling off. Yuki rolled his eyes.
"Exercising?"
"Yeah na no da! I'm hyping up for my concert next week!"
The blond novelist froze. Time had flown by so quickly; it was already the end of summer. He had conveniently forgotten that Ryuichi had to leave for America… and nobody had called him to bring him back to reality. It really was odd. Usually his publishers and editor would be ringing up at least once a week, but luck had been on his side, so it seemed.
He stood there thinking, his gaze never wandering from the bouncing singer. A few specks of ash from his cigarette fell on his palm, their heat waking him up with a hiss.
"Eiri!" Ryuichi dropped everything he was doing and rushed to the writer's side. "You burnt yourself na no da!"
He blew at the now reddish spot. Yuki stared at it, his face devoid of all emotion.
"…What is it?"
"Ryuichi…" the writer grabbed hold of his lover, dragging them both to the couch. The video was still playing in the background, forgotten for the time being. Puzzled, Ryuichi fixed his eyes on Yuki. The blond writer leaned in, kissing passionately those full, rose-petal lips, nipping his way to the nape of the singer's neck.
Ryuichi moaned, his voice wispy, like air. Yuki massaged his shoulders, loving that part; his shoulders were round and gently curved, well toned. He liked his skin, it was supple, soft… and he smelled distantly of a faraway land, of America, of the rain that fell there and washed the cities clean. An aroma of mangoes and pears wafted round the blond's nostrils. Vaguely he saw shades of pink, but he pushed them away, clearing his mind of all thoughts.
Gently, the writer removed his shirt, his lips never leaving the fair skin. Ryuichi helped him in turn, nipping on his ear, falling back onto the couch, crushed by Yuki's weight.
「Ｓｐｉｃｙ Ｍａｒｍａｌａｄｅ」
The two stopped almost instantly as the song started. They stared at the screen, watching the pink haired young man dance and sing to the audience.
Shuichi…
He smiled as the audience cheered him on. Even as they watched him, he seemed to perform with zeal, shining with happiness, the joy that he was. Tears began to roll down Ryuichi's cheek, splattering against the leather of the couch. Yuki turned to the singer, looking perplexed.
For a long time, neither of them said a word.
"… Yuki-san."
"Hmm?" Yuki seemed a little distraught at the usage of his 'surname', as Ryuichi had used when they first met.
"I want to thank you, Yuki-san. For giving me a place to stay, for giving me the happiness to ease that loneliness… and for… never rejecting that love I had to give you. I want to thank you – thank you for everything."
"I'm sorry," Yuki turned away, but he found himself looking back at Ryuichi.
"I…" the singer looked up, smiling. There were no tears left for him to shed, not even to moisten his eyes. He held up his ticket, the words Los Angeles printed neatly on the top of it. "I have a ticket to happiness… for you. For Shuu-chan."
_________________
"YUKI! TADAIMA!!"
A blur of pink launched himself at the blond writer, kissing and squashing the living daylights out of him. To his surprise, Yuki found himself returning the hug, stroking the pink hair… that hair that had colored his dull world. He savored the voice that had sung for him of an orange moon, and the tears that had washed his life anew.
"Yuki! Is the phone out of order? I called you a million, zillion times but I couldn't get through! The line was dead!"
For a moment the writer blinked, so that was why he never got any calls throughout that summer. It seemed that fate had played a cruel trick on them both, but he wasn't too angry at that moment… neither was he remorseful. He had met Sakuma Ryuichi, fell head over heels in love with the diversity that he was, the fresh foreign air that he brought with him, the voice that had sung his lyrics, and the vast blues of his eyes.
"Baka." Yuki held the singer closer, much to the singer's surprise and happiness.
He gazed up at the sky, from Shuichi's back, and was greeted by the unreachable blue world, and the sun that shone down kindly on his face. Unnoticed, a tear of mixed feelings trickled down his cheek, vanishing into nothingness in the summery air of a new autumn to come.
Ahead, an airplane glided past the cloudless skies.
------------------------------
おわり
------------------------------
Note: YAY! Finished! It was supposed to be longer, but… well… my brain died. I only knew the ending to it. I was supposed to make Ryuichi happy… describe his happiness with events, but I was scared to make it boring by doing so. It was so bad of me, making Ryuichi so happy and then stripping everything away from him. I'm such a wimp, I actually felt so sad for Ryuichi and Yuki! I got emotional and poor Haku had to help me. Heh, he helped write some. That's why at some parts the writing style's different! I beta-read it actually, and only changed a few words… his style's pretty mature. It was very beautiful, but it somewhat disrupted the flow here and there. I'm so sorry my Haku please don't be sad! I love your writing! Don't cry… hey, he's laughing! Meany!
I made them temporarily forget poor Shuu-chan too.
Haku: (Mimicking Zeniba) Nonsense! Nothing that happens is truly forgotten.
And we killed the phone. *Guilty smile* But anyway, I hope you liked this, please, if there is anything wrong (other than pairing-wise, I don't tolerate stupid pairing problematic people) with the grammar or flow please let us know na no da!