"Composition"
By Akot
Disclaimer: Gravitation is property of Maki Murakami.
Notes: Once, again a drabbleme fic. I need to get off my rear and get some other stuff finished YukiXShuichi fluff ahead.
Eiri Yuki pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed at tired eyes as he entered the bedroom he shared with his lover. Shuichi was sitting cross-legged on top of the covers, a pad of paper perched on one knee and a pen clutched tightly in both hands, as if to wring inspiration out of it. The pink haired singer was due to write some new lyrics and Yuki knew that he had been sitting like this for hours, working on his sappy poetry even as the blond sat down the hall writing prose.
"Have you written anything?" Yuki said from the doorway, the gruff question his own particular brand of greeting.
Shuichi looked up, the pensive frown temporarily erased by a bright smile. "Yuki!" he said, launching himself across the room, pen and paper falling forgotten to the covers. He pressed his face against the author's chest. "I did get work done on my lyrics today!"
"Really?" Yuki replied sarcastically, briefly scrubbing at Shuichi's bright hair affectionatly, before dropping his hands to his sides again.
That little gesture of love was ignored in favour of the single word Yuki had uttered and the reaction was immediate. Puffing himself up, Shuichi hurried back over to the bed and scrambled for the discarded pad of paper.
"Listen to this!" he said, flipping back a few pages. "The clouds are closing in, Stealing the stars in one quick sweep, I cannot see the light."
Yuki raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" he said. "Three lines?"
Shuichi scowled and flipped the notepad shut. "It's the last verse to a song! I'm just having trouble finishing it!"
Waving a dismissive hand, the author peeled his shirt off and padded over to the bed. "I hope you don't expect me to finish it for you. Now move over. I'm tired."
There was a moment's silence as Shuichi moved over enough to let the other man lie down in their bed, and then "Yuki, how come you're coming to bed so early tonight?"
The author curved his lips in a small smirk, turning over to face his lover. "It's almost four in the morning."
Shuichi's eyes went as wide as saucers.
"But.... but that can't be true! I'm not done yet, I have to be up early and in the studio tommorow... with the new lyrics! K is going to shoot me until I'm dead and Suguru is going to kill me too! Even Hiro and Sakano will hate me!"
Yuki sighed as his lover's rantings rapidly degenerated into sobbing. His band mates would do no such things: they would probably be glad the singer had gotten as far as he had, but knowing their insane manager, K has likely threatened Shuichi with some cruel and unusual punishment if he didn't show up with one song, in full, tommorow morning.
"Shut up," he said, too tired to have any patience for this, and he caught Shuichi's lips with his own.
Immediatly, Shuichi's arms came up and latched around Yuki's neck as if catching it in a vice, his mouth open and his toungue demanding, his way of seeking reassurance that everything would work out on time.
Only too glad to oblige his lover, Yuki slipped his hands under the skimpy tank top Shuichi wore, running his hands over his back, his sides, his chest, fingers stopping to linger at the nipples, enciting moans from Shuichi.
Rolling over, Yuki pinned Shuichi's body underneath his and pulled the younger man's shirt off. Their hips rubbed against each other's as the singer spread his legs wide, his hands moving downwards to fumble with the clasp on Yuki's pants.
"And how the angels weep."
The words were muttered, half heard at best, but Shuichi jerked his mouth away from Yuki's to stare at his partner, both hands now still.
"What did you just say?"
"I didn't say anything," the author replied, before attempting to reclaim the singer's lips.
"Yes you did!" said Shuichi, dodging his lover with uncanny ease. "You just finished it for me! I love you, Yuki!"
Only now did Shuichi's lips made contact with the other man's, but just long enough to steal a chaste kiss before he was wriggling out from the bottom. Much to Yuki's dissapointment, Shuichi's hands were no longer touching him, but searching the bed instead for the hastily discarded notepad and pen, sex completely forgotten.
Yuki stared at his partner in awe for a moment before he sat up, reached for a cigarette and lit up. Under his breath he muttered, "Last time I fucking help you."
By Akot
Disclaimer: Gravitation is property of Maki Murakami.
Notes: Once, again a drabbleme fic. I need to get off my rear and get some other stuff finished YukiXShuichi fluff ahead.
Eiri Yuki pulled off his reading glasses and rubbed at tired eyes as he entered the bedroom he shared with his lover. Shuichi was sitting cross-legged on top of the covers, a pad of paper perched on one knee and a pen clutched tightly in both hands, as if to wring inspiration out of it. The pink haired singer was due to write some new lyrics and Yuki knew that he had been sitting like this for hours, working on his sappy poetry even as the blond sat down the hall writing prose.
"Have you written anything?" Yuki said from the doorway, the gruff question his own particular brand of greeting.
Shuichi looked up, the pensive frown temporarily erased by a bright smile. "Yuki!" he said, launching himself across the room, pen and paper falling forgotten to the covers. He pressed his face against the author's chest. "I did get work done on my lyrics today!"
"Really?" Yuki replied sarcastically, briefly scrubbing at Shuichi's bright hair affectionatly, before dropping his hands to his sides again.
That little gesture of love was ignored in favour of the single word Yuki had uttered and the reaction was immediate. Puffing himself up, Shuichi hurried back over to the bed and scrambled for the discarded pad of paper.
"Listen to this!" he said, flipping back a few pages. "The clouds are closing in, Stealing the stars in one quick sweep, I cannot see the light."
Yuki raised an eyebrow. "That's it?" he said. "Three lines?"
Shuichi scowled and flipped the notepad shut. "It's the last verse to a song! I'm just having trouble finishing it!"
Waving a dismissive hand, the author peeled his shirt off and padded over to the bed. "I hope you don't expect me to finish it for you. Now move over. I'm tired."
There was a moment's silence as Shuichi moved over enough to let the other man lie down in their bed, and then "Yuki, how come you're coming to bed so early tonight?"
The author curved his lips in a small smirk, turning over to face his lover. "It's almost four in the morning."
Shuichi's eyes went as wide as saucers.
"But.... but that can't be true! I'm not done yet, I have to be up early and in the studio tommorow... with the new lyrics! K is going to shoot me until I'm dead and Suguru is going to kill me too! Even Hiro and Sakano will hate me!"
Yuki sighed as his lover's rantings rapidly degenerated into sobbing. His band mates would do no such things: they would probably be glad the singer had gotten as far as he had, but knowing their insane manager, K has likely threatened Shuichi with some cruel and unusual punishment if he didn't show up with one song, in full, tommorow morning.
"Shut up," he said, too tired to have any patience for this, and he caught Shuichi's lips with his own.
Immediatly, Shuichi's arms came up and latched around Yuki's neck as if catching it in a vice, his mouth open and his toungue demanding, his way of seeking reassurance that everything would work out on time.
Only too glad to oblige his lover, Yuki slipped his hands under the skimpy tank top Shuichi wore, running his hands over his back, his sides, his chest, fingers stopping to linger at the nipples, enciting moans from Shuichi.
Rolling over, Yuki pinned Shuichi's body underneath his and pulled the younger man's shirt off. Their hips rubbed against each other's as the singer spread his legs wide, his hands moving downwards to fumble with the clasp on Yuki's pants.
"And how the angels weep."
The words were muttered, half heard at best, but Shuichi jerked his mouth away from Yuki's to stare at his partner, both hands now still.
"What did you just say?"
"I didn't say anything," the author replied, before attempting to reclaim the singer's lips.
"Yes you did!" said Shuichi, dodging his lover with uncanny ease. "You just finished it for me! I love you, Yuki!"
Only now did Shuichi's lips made contact with the other man's, but just long enough to steal a chaste kiss before he was wriggling out from the bottom. Much to Yuki's dissapointment, Shuichi's hands were no longer touching him, but searching the bed instead for the hastily discarded notepad and pen, sex completely forgotten.
Yuki stared at his partner in awe for a moment before he sat up, reached for a cigarette and lit up. Under his breath he muttered, "Last time I fucking help you."