Fandom: Gravitation
Summary: How much can time change one's view of things depends on how much his eyes would allow him to see...
Title: Parallax
Author: Hana Rui
Genre: shounen-ai, drama
Pairing: Eiri Yuki x Shuichi Shindo
Footfalls padding silently on carpeted floor. Steady breathing innocently drifting through the slightly opened door.
He looked around, gingerly assessing the coast-
Clear.
He eased himself through the narrow opening and found himself locking stares with the one he loved the most.
Bliss.
Unrivaled.
Unprecedented.
Un-real.
"Yuki..." He barely missed stepping on an empty bottle of whisky lying discarded on the floor.
"What is it?" the older guy snarled, brows creasing in a look of raw irritation.
"Anou... The bathroom faucet's leaking again."
"Not my problem. How the hell did you get in anyway?"
Reluctantly, he raised his vaguely trembling hand, showing off the glinting piece of metal dangling proudly from a golden chain. "You gave me a key, remember?"
The other guy sighed defeatedly and willed his attention back to the faintly blinking screen in front of him.
The display had suddenly become unbearably restlessbopping up and down as though dancing the unrehearsed steps to an unsteady tango. The high-strung boy practically flinched out of his skin when the older man bestowed a rather violent whack upon each side of the ancient monitor.
Suddenly, he was plagued by the faintest feeling of dread.
Instantly, he was seeing visions of those hands looming over him.
Threatening to hurt him... Do vicious things to him...
Maul him out of his senses...
He shook his head out of that fleeting disillusionment and willed himself instead to listen intently to the soothingly rhythmic melody of graceful fingers tapping on the keyboard.
Shortly, he became aware of a distant tip-tapping sound, which stubbornly refused to blend with the older guy's kind of music.
"Doesn't it... bother you?" the kid's voice almost broke with anxiety. Although his untainted mind couldn't quite comprehend why the older guy was icing him up all of a sudden, his unbending resolve was still hard set at making sure his god was perpetually aware of his existence.
"What?" the ill-tempered writer didn't even bother looking at him.
"The faucet," he almost choked on his words. "Doesn't it bother you, Yuki?"
"Not as much as you are bothering me, you insufferable brat!"
"Yuki..." His whine sounded pathetic even to his own ears. He instantly numbed upas though shot unsparingly by a gallon of Novocainand could already feel the tears scalding his eyes.
"Just go sit in a corner and let me finish my work in peace." Though the statement held a lesser amount of venom than before, the greatly daunted young lad didn't find within himself the strength to oppose. Obligingly, his head bent low, the dejected kid plodded to that corner of the room farthest from the uncharacteristically surly man whom he looked up to with as much respect as one would put upon a king.
Now, however, that so-called respect had been carelessly shoved off to near extinction by the overwhelming shot of fear currently holding all of his young, sensible cells captive.
What had he done? What could've possibly made his God this hostile to him? As far as he knew, and could remember with confidence, he had been a good kid. An obedient little puppy wagging his cutsey little tail at the mere sight of his master.
Barking dutifully and unfailingly at each command.
Exactly how his master had trained him to be.
Exactly how he had willed himself to be... For this man.
The man who was his life and soul.
The man who gave him a dream he could latch on to.
The man... This cold, grumpy man sitting before his computer, weaving out another great novel.
Pointedly ignoring his very breath...
Bliss was only temporary, as he, at a very young age, was gradually realizing.
And it was slowly fading.
Flickering out.
Ebbing away.
Not much different from the tears wantonly bailing out of his eyes.
Tracing an evanescent stream down his cheeks.
Subsequently disappearing into transient stains upon his pants...
Upon his soul.
Silently, he bore the pain.
Quietly, he mourned the loss he could not even imagine.
Alone.
Sequestered from the rest of the world.
From all other emotions, but the one he was forced to harbor inside.
At such a young age, he could hardly comprehend how it was possible to see his beloved sitting just a few feet away, yet not be able to reach him.
Such an untouchable soul.
Incomprehensible... And un-real.
"Eiri..."
Amazed and dumfounded, the embittered young lad raised his tear-streaked face to that gently soothing voice he knew so well...
"Come, I'll buy you an ice cream." The man, who was now grinning affablyalmost lovinglywas holding out a hand to him.
And the moment those long, possessive fingers entwined with his, every single bit of appallation and bitterness that had been filling him to the brim vanished without the littlest trace.
He wiped them all off as he did his tears and placed on his callow lips the widest smile of juvenile delight.
All he knew at that very moment was that he loved this guy... His God.
And despite the unexplained animosity from a while ago, he could feel that the guy cared about him, too.
And as far as his young, untainted mind was concerned, it was all that really mattered.
This was bliss in the purest, truest sense.
"Yuki..."
"Yes, Eiri-kun?"
"Daisuki..."
-0-
"Yuki!"
The call sounded close, yet so strangely farfetched, as though it was merely a part of some distant dream.
"Yuki!"
There it was again. This time much closer... And more real.
He felt a rather wicked shove on his shoulder and the next thing he knew, he was squinting his newly awakened eyes to the sudden blast of blinding brightness flooding his usually dismal office.
"Who the hell turned the fucking lights on!" he demanded whilst becoming gradually aware of a numbing pain on his nape.
"No one, Yuki. It's the light from the hallway."
The blond-haired novelist, having woken up on the wrong side of his desk, had a bit of trouble focusing his narrowed eyes on the pink-haired entity standing beside him.
He didn't really have to see clearly, though, to know who owned that unmistakably loud, jarring voice.
"What is it, brat?" he snarled, brows creasing in a look of raw irritation.
"Anou... The bathroom faucet's leaking again."
"Not my problem," he muttered flatly as he gently moved his head around to ease the strained muscles in his neck. "How the hell did you get in, anyway?"
"Eh? Y-Yuki...! You never lock your office door. And I do happen to live here, remember?"
It took sometime, but his yet to be converged senses snapped right back into reality and realizedwith growing dreadthat the annoying kid was telling the truth.
"Besides, you gave me a spare." The pink-haired brat showed him his precious key, dangling proudly from a golden chain very similar to the one he had held out in front of Kitazawa-sensei's face years ago.
On that certain afternoon.
That episode in his past he had been struggling to forget.
Weakened by the sudden rush of an overwhelming nostalgia, Yuki's frail looking form slackened like a rag doll in his chair, his throat expelling out the faintest pained groan as an aftershock. He closed his eyes tight and tried to calm his breathing.
But it was tough.
The all-too-familiar feeling of bitterness began flooding in. Consuming him wholly, and without warning.
Silently, he bore the recurring pain.
Quietly, he mourned the time long pass.
Alone.
He had always suffered alone.
Sequestered from the rest of humanity.
From all other emotions except the one he had been forced to harbor inside...
For always.
Forever.
What had he ever done to deserve all this? What could've possibly made Fate this hostile to him?
"Yuki... are you all right?" The half-anxious, half-agitated voice sounded close and soothing to his ear. From behind, he felt warm, loving arms coil gently around his neck and a smooth, warm cheek subsequently rubbed against his face.
The next second found the usually cold, ill-tempered blond guy sighing comfortably and leaning submissively into the embrace.
"Don't worry, I'll stay here until you feel better."
His hand moved up and latched onto one arm, tightly as though he was afraid he might fall into the deepest gaping crevasse should he let go.
"I'll take care of you, Yuki. You don't have to worry about a thing!" The kid announced with marked assurance. "I won't ever let anyone hurt you!"
"Urusai!" he snarled, facial contours tightening into an absolute manifestation of annoyance. "You're too loud!"
"Hidoi!" The high-strung teenager whined, lips pouting out in the extreme likeness of an insulted fish.
Yuki felt the arms around his neck loosen slightly and had to smile. Though it annoyed him so most of the time, deep within him he never really failed acknowledging the fact that he loved having the brat around.
His loud and bubbly presence, his shallow tears and juvenile whines, have all given the embittered novelist the warmth and security he had never felt from anyone, nor anywhere else.
He opened his eyes long enough to adroitly whisk the startled kid onto his lap and enclose his lovely gawking lips with the gentlest, calmest kiss.
And at that very moment, the twenty-two-year-old Eiri Yuki felt enlightenedat peace for the first time in years. The painful reminiscence of the past gradually began filing out of his system.
He may not be able to fully comprehend how it was possible for a man to be feeling tired and troubled one minute, and then calm and tranquil the next, but he was grateful to have lived long enough to feel such transitions.
To finally open his eyes and see it all in a different light.
Bliss.
Unrivaled.
Unprecedented.
Real.
"Come, I'll buy you an ice cream." He entwined his long, possessive fingers around the hand he knew so well and had to practically drag the half-delighted, half-ventilating kid toward the door.
It was utterly pointless to continuously dwell in the past and all its exacerbating emotionsthis fact should be clear to him by now.
For his now was with Shuichi Shindo...
The kid who had the sole power to irritate and amuse him in a hundred thousand ways.
The kid with the loudest mouth and shallowest tears he had ever known in a guy.
The kid... This loud, insufferable brat whom he loved most in all the world.
As far as his tainted, yet older and much wiser mind was concerned, it was all that really mattered.
This was now his idea of bliss.
In its pinkest, truest sense.
"Yuki..."
"Hm?"
"Daisuki!"
-end-
Thanks for reading! :)