Title: Learning to Fly
Author: Hawk Clowd
Disclaimer: Maki Murakami would be a god if she weren't already a human; she owns Gravitation. If somehow the rights were transferred over to me, however, I do believe I would have a thousand angry fans banging on my door asking why I couldn't just let the boys have a happy ending every once in awhile.
Blood Type: Chocolate syrup. Simply because I can.
Part: Two
Warnings: None, so far. I'm trying to cut back on my cursing, both in my writing and in real life, so there shouldn't be too much of that going on. There may be smut later on, but I make no guarantees.
Archived: The usual places. I do not do free archiving, however, and will be seriously pissed off if I find that someone has been hosting my fic without asking first. Yes, this has happened, and no, I didn't like it then, either.
Author's Notes: They're still out of character, aren't they...? -_- I'll have to fix that later on.
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The days passed quickly. Yuki soon forgot about Shuichi's wish to go sky-diving, which was perfectly understandable given that the boy seemed to be caught up in his work and hadn't mentioned flying at all. Yuki spent a lot of time teaching himself how to play poker, which was harder than he had expected it to be, and trying to think up a decent idea for his new writing project. In fact, nearly an entire month went by before the topic was approached again.
Yuki had left briefly in order to pick up a few dozen cartons of cigarettes and, when he returned, noticed that the light on the answering machine was blinking, indicating that he had at least one new message. Ripping open one pack of cigarettes, Yuki pressed the blinking red button in order to listen to the message, then put the cigarette to his lips and began searching for his lighter.
"Shindou-san," the message began, "this is Arashi Yazawa from Tanudem International, returning your call. I just wanted to let you know that we're honored you chose us and that we have a spot open on Saturdays from three to four. And yes, we do provide both the plane and the parachutes. Call back if you have any more questions, Shindou-san. See you on Saturday!"
The cigarette fell, unlit, from between Yuki's lips. Parachutes...? The argument he'd had with Shuichi about sky-diving rushed back to him and he cringed. The fool was actually planning on doing it? It hadn't been an idle threat after all?
Yuki's imagination suddenly ran wild. He could just picture the boy zipping up the tight-fitting jumping suit and leaping out of the plan, only to realize that he'd left his parachute aboard. He'd become a tiny pink smear on the ground, leaving Yuki behind to... To what? Yuki had to put a bit more thought into that. Leaving him to relish the silence? Leaving him to finally meet a few of his deadlines? Leaving him to NOT RECEIVE PHONE CALLS ABOUT SKY-DIVING???
Yuki scowled. Shuichi had bought himself a cell phone once upon a time, hadn't we? Yes, he had! So where the hell had he scribbled down the goddamn phone number? Mentally scolding himself for not having let Shuichi enter it into his speed dial as the singer had originally wanted to do, Yuki began ransacking his apartment, looking for the number.
Shuichi arrived home before Yuki had found it, but not soon enough to prevent the writer from destroying two room and half of another.
"Yuki, tadaima!" the boy called from the doorway, kicking off his shoes. "I had a... Whoa." Even from his place two rooms away, Yuki could sense his lover's shock as the singer took in the messy apartment. "Jeez, Yuki, what did you do? This place looks worse than my bedroom after a hurricane!"
Nearly three months before, Yuki and Shuichi had moved all of Shuichi's extra things into one of the apartment's extra closets. This was also where Shuichi 'hung out' when he had his friend Hiro over, and although Shuichi rarely slept in it, the room did have a futon hiding somewhere in all that clutter, so it had been christened Shuichi's bedroom. And while Yuki could easily understand Shuichi's surprise upon seeing the messy apartment--he truly was a tidy person, for the most part--he resented the implication that this mess could even hold a candle to the disaster that was Shuichi's bedroom. He stormed out of his own room fuming to himself, approaching the wide-eyed boy who dared insult his mess.
"You," he snarled, narrowing his eyes at Shuichi. "This is all your fault."
Shuichi let out a frightened squeak and backed away until he was pressed flat against the wall. "If this is about the credit card bill, I can explain everything, Yuki! Y'see, we were in Kinki for a show but the guitar didn't hook up to the amps the place provided us and I had sort of conveniently borrowed your credit card and I guess things got a little out of hand, but I really was gonna pay you back, I swear I was! And that thousand dollar candy dish really does look a lot nicer than your old ashtray did, don't you think so? I mean, you said it--"
"Where the hell did you put that stupid paper with your cell number on it?" Yuki asked meanly, glowering at the boy. He'd deal with Shuichi's latest confession later on.
"Eh?" Shuichi blinked, furrowing his brow in confusion. "Yuki, it's taped to the fridge, just like it has been ever since I bought the phone."
"No, it isn't."
"Yeah, it is."
Yuki scowled, holding up a finger. "You. Wait here," he ordered before he stalked into the kitchen, hell-bent on proving to himself that he had not just wrecked his entire apartment for no reason at all.
Luck was not on his side.
It didn't take Yuki very long to catch sight of the bright pink heart-shaped sticky note Shuichi had practically glued to the refrigerator door. Yuki stared at it in horror. Shuichi had been right. The number had been there all along. Groaning, Yuki went back to the living room, pushed all the crap that had collected on the couch onto the floor, and collapsed in the new clear spot.
"Yuki!" Shuichi cried out, rushing over. The boy frowned. "Is that what this was all about? My phone number? You destroyed the place because you wanted to call me? That's so sweet!"
"No," Yuki corrected with a scowl, "this was about something else."
"What?"
Yuki inclined his head towards the answering machine. "Root through a few years worth of papers and receipts until you find the phone. Someone left a message for you."
"Oooh, someone left me a message?" Shuichi repeated, brightening visibly, which made Yuki wonder about the boy's sanity. The singer received just as many phone calls as Yuki himself did (usually averaging around six or seven a week), but he, unlike Yuki, was always excited to get them. Shuichi practically skipped over to the phone in his eagerness to hear the message, clearing away a bit of the mess so that he could find the device. Pressing the button on the machine, he listened to the message carefully. He grinned when it was over.
"Cool," he said with a pleased nod of his head. "I can't wait until Saturday! It's gonna be so~ooo awesome! I mean, it's--" Something seemed to register in Shuichi's brain and his voice trailed off as he turned to look at Yuki a touch more closely. "You were going to call me just to yell at me about the lessons, weren't you?"
Yuki paused, unsure of what the proper response was supposed to be. Lacking the appropriate words, he settled for a grunt, hoping Shuichi would interpret it correctly.
"I don't believe you!" Shuichi cried. "I bought that cell phone for emergencies or in case you felt a strange need to whisper sweet nothings in my ear, as if that would happen, and the only reason you ever want to call me is so you can scream at me and berate me more than you already do at home! No fair! Foul ball! I have a good mind to take my number off of the fridge so that you can't try something like that ever again!"
Yuki couldn't help but wonder what Shuichi's problem was. It wasn't as though he'd managed to find the number anyway. "But sky-diving?" he questioned, getting back onto his feet. "That's dangerous! Do you have any idea what could happen?"
"I think I know more about it than you do! I've been doing research on it!" Shuichi replied loudly. "Besides, you said you didn't care what I did so long as I didn't try to drag you along with me! Remember?"
Come to think of it, he did remember saying something along those lines. Yuki scowled, annoyed that he no longer had a good reason for being angry. Not, he realized, that he'd had one in the first place. He turned his back to Shuichi, furious with himself for having been so stupid.
"I'm going to bed," he said finally, after a long silence had passed between them. "Clean this place up before I wake up or else you'll be sleeping on the goddamn balcony for the rest of the year."
"But it's not my mess," Shuichi argued. "It's yours! You aren't being fair, Yuki!"
Shuichi's protests and complaints fell on deaf ears, however, as Yuki went to his bedroom without another word. Sighing to himself, Yuki got changed for bed, locked the door in order to keep Shuichi out, and then fell into bed.
---to be continued---