Authoress here. I said this story was rated R, right? This is the highest rated story I've ever written, so expect some things that are a little...not PG-13.

I had the intent of writing a lemon, but pointless sex has no place in this story. If it doesn't fit, I won't write it.

Yeah! I can use contractions again! All those in my history/communications classes would understand.

START CHAPTER

Shuichi had gone downstairs the next morning to find his lover sound asleep with Alira in his arms, and didn't know what to think. A blanket was pulled over them and her head was resting on his shoulder. Both looked very comfortable where they were, which made tears well up in Shuichi's eyes.

He turned around and dashed out the door, slamming it behind him. Yuki awoke with a start and swore when he realized what had happened.

"Shit," he grumbled, his eyes shifting to the girl who still sat, sound asleep, on his lap. Her tank top had slid down, revealing quite a bit of her chest. "Shit," he whispered. This must have looked bad to Shuichi.

Alira's eyes opened slowly a moment later.

"You awake?"

The first thing she did after seeing him was deliver a slap to his face.

He shoved her off his lap and onto the floor. "What the hell was that for?" he snarled.

"I'm so sorry!" she cried, holding a hand over her mouth in shock. "You scared me!"

"I scared you? You're the one who turned on the waterworks last night and then fell asleep on me," he countered, his eyes flashing.

Looking abashed, Alira pulled her tank top up to cover herself before replying, "So it was real, then. I told you about..." She trailed off and raised a hand to her black eye.

"Speaking of which, I'll get you some ice for that. God knows I don't need anyone else whining about how much something hurts around here." He turned and walked to the kitchen, leaving Alira to sit alone on the floor.

"Where's Shuichi?" she called after him. "I haven't seen him yet today."

Yuki didn't answer for a moment. "He...left early."

"Oh."

He reentered the room with an icepack wrapped in a towel in one hand. Sighing when he saw she was still on the floor, he said curtly, "Get up."

She scrambled onto the couch again, and he sat down next to her, handing her the icepack. She gingerly held it to her eye, winced, and pulled it away.

Yuki sighed heartily and took it back. "Can't you do anything?" He moved to ice her eye for her, but she scrambled backwards.

"Don't touch me!"

He gave her an odd look. "What the hell are you going on about? I'm trying to help you, idiot. Sit still." She obeyed, and attempted to sit very still while he gently pressed the ice against her bruised eye. "He hit you pretty hard, didn't he?"

She didn't answer him. Her attention was focused on his left hand, which he had placed on her back to make sure she didn't try to escape him again.

Her heart thudded.

He's gay. You don't have a chance. He has a boyfriend.

He sighed. "You should learn how to fight back."

Her pride injured, Alira replied sharply, "I know how already."

"Oh?" Yuki tossed the icepack onto the coffee table before them and took hold of her shoulders. "Let's just see about that."

It all happened very fast. Within seconds, Yuki was on top of Alira, straddling her, holding her to the couch with his hands on her shoulders. Alira pushed against his chest to no avail as she struggled to get free.

Leaning down to whisper into her ear, Yuki said, "I thought you said you could fight."

Alira pushed against his hands, which were firmly on her shoulders. "I'm not strong enough. I...I can't fight back against you."

His breath tickled her ear with his reply. "What if I was a stranger on the streets who wanted to rape you? What would you do then?"

"I...don't know," she replied in a hushed voice.

"Remember this well, Alira. Other men won't be so forgiving." He leaned down so his lips were inches from her neck. Lightly and tenderly, his lips brushed against her neck. "Once you think you're stronger, come talk to me."

With that, he climbed off her and headed back into the kitchen.

Seeming to be frozen, Alira simply stayed where she had been. A little bit later, She sat up and put a hand to her neck.

He's gay. You don't have a chance. He has a boyfriend, she thought again.

But now, she wasn't so sure.

"I need to talk with Shuichi," she muttered.

"He's went to the recording studio," Yuki replied, causing her to jump. "But I would suggest a shower before you go. You smell awful."

Alira raised an eyebrow as she turned her head towards the doorway, not caring that he couldn't see her. "You're certainly polite."

"I'm also truthful."

Alira sighed, defeated. She wasn't sure how, after what had just happened, how he could talk as though he hadn't done anything. "Fine, fine. Where do you keep the towels?"

Yuki led her to the bathroom, provided her with clean towels, then left.

He headed downstairs and into the kitchen again, and relaxed when he heard the shower water running. He could think now. What the hell made me do that? Why do I care? She's just some other stupid girl. But she's just...so...

His thoughts trailed off when he realized that he couldn't think of one word to describe exactly what she was like. He was angry with himself. As a novelist, he should've been able to think of something.

Moments later, he heard the shower water shut off and the glass doors slide open.

After she had located a blow dryer, Alira dried her hair. She was startled at first by the flat iron she saw on the counter in the bathroom, but, reminding herself that the two men who lived there were lovers, she decided it wasn't really that odd. Once her hair was fixed, she headed out of the bathroom and started coming down the stairs.

From the kitchen, Yuki flinched as he heard her stumble down the stairs and fall. "You stupid fucking idiot," he muttered, throwing the dishtowel he had been using into the sink and stomping out to find her.

Alira, her face red, was in the process of sitting up when Yuki came into view. She was wearing the same pair of jeans she had been wearing the previous day, but the shirt was different. It was a tight dark green t-shirt with something in English that he couldn't read written across the chest.

He sighed, looking down at her. "Are you okay?"

Putting weight on her right wrist, Alira felt a sharp stab of pain. However, she didn't say anything. "Yeah, I just tripped. I'll be fine."

Yuki appraised her for a minute before asking, "Why the hell do you lie whenever you get hurt?"

Alira cringed back a bit, startled at how he read her so easily. "What do you mean?"

"You hurt your wrist. You can keep tears back, but you can't hide the pain I can see in your eyes, idiot."

She allowed herself to be helped up, muttering once she was firmly back on her feet, "No wonder you're a novelist."

"Hmm?" Yuki didn't bother to use words to express his confusion on what she had meant.

"Never mind," she replied. "You just used a lot of meaningful phrases, that's all."

Ten minutes later, Alira was riding in the passenger seat of Yuki's car, her wrist wrapped up in clean white bandages. She would have walked to hear Bad Luck recording a song, but Yuki had insisted ("You can't even go down stairs without getting hurt! You'd be a hazard to the whole city.") that she let him drive her.

As she entered the studio and saw Shuichi through the glass, she couldn't help but smile.

He's perfect for Yuki, I think. I may not know them that well, but they're so cute together! she thought. I have to stop thinking there's a chance. He's gay. They both are.

I have to give up.

END CHAPTER

There it is. HISTORY DAY IS OVER!

Authoress out.