Hiya! Here is the next chapter. Things are really rolling now. I will try and make this a longer chapter, the last one felt long when I was writing it, but it was only like 7 pages. Oh well.

Disclaimer: Gravitation belongs to Murakami Maki-san and Pretty Woman belongs to Gary Marshall.

Welcome to my Romance: Chpt. 7: The Proposition

Later that evening,Shuichi awoke sprawled over the top of a black leather couch. He sat up groggily, his pink hair sticking up in all directions. He yawned loudly, reaching his arms up above his head. He looked like a kitten waking from a nap. He wiped his blurry eyes and looked around. He was in a studio apartment with bare white walls and bare hardwood floors. There was minimal furniture, and much of what was there was sleek and modern. The couch, coffee table, TV and small desk was all that was in the huge living room. One door off the main room led to a bathroom, the other door led to a large bedroom, as sparse as the living room. The door next to the bedroom was the only one that was closed. Shuichi half fell, half slid off the slippery couch and landed on the floor. He scrambled to his feet and padded softly to the closed door. He clutched the handle and gently pushed the door open.

There, in the eerie iridescent glow of a computer monitor, sat Yuki Eiri, wire rim glasses perched on his perfect nose, blonde hair fashionably mussed, cigarette hanging between thin lips, staring at the screen with a scowl. Shuichi gasped at the sight and tried to pull the door closed again, but Yuki had heard him and looked up at the door. There was annoyance and contempt in those golden eyes, and if he wasn't mistaken, a hint of amusement flickered across the author's face before the cold mask slipped into place. Yuki stood up, his fluid motions mesmerizing to the young singer. Yuki kept a steady pace towards the door, with no apparent intention of stopping. Shuichi realized this almost too late and stumbled backwards into the living room, almost being stepped on by the taller man.

"Oomph!" he grunted as he skidded a few feet across the slick floor.

Yuki glared down at him, cigarette hanging from his mouth. He took it from his mouth and exhaled, a thin stream of grey smoke into the air, the halogen lights above them making the room hazy. "Why the hell are you following me? I don't care if you want to kill yourself, but find someone else's car to wreck; it's a bitch to find a body shop for foreign cars in this city."

Shuichi struggled to his elbows, squinting up at the man, "It all seemed pointless, there was nothing that I wanted to live for if I didn't see you—" he stopped, blushing right up to the roots of his pink hair. There was a second that Yuki's icy demeanor cracked, and there was genuine shock on his face. It was only for a split second, and he covered it up by taking another drag. "Just tell me what you're doing here, and why you've got this obsession with me." He walked over to a small fridge and took out a beer. He popped the top and took a swig, then went to the black leather couch.

Shuichi got up and sat on the other side of the couch. Yuki seemed annoyed by this, but didn't say anything. "I'm Shindou Shuichi; I'm nineteen, and a musician. I-you almost ran me over last week in front of my place. You said my lyrics sucked and I-I wanted to see you again to make you hear the finished song." Saying it out loud made Shuichi realize that it wasn't as sound a plan as he had thought, it sounded better in his head; but then again, so did a lot of other things.

Yuki took another drink, his head back against the back of the sofa, eyes closed. "Hmm, so you've been stalking me for a week just to make me listen to some crappy garage band song? Please." Shuichi noticed the beautiful angle of his face, and how peaceful he looked at when he was rest. He turned his head a bit and opened one golden eye, "You're young, what were you doing out in that part of the city? Looking for a little action?" It was a harmless jibe, but Shuichi took it as a serious question. "Well, I was going to my night job..." he began.

Yuki's brow wrinkled in amusement, "Oh yeah? As what? A baishunfu?" he snorted as he finished off the beer. He waited for the embarrassed denial, already realizing that bating this bishie into uncomfortable situations would be an amusing way to spend the evening. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the pink head moving in response, but he was nodding in the affirmative. Yuki sat up abruptly, choking on his beer. He gasped and hacked, his eyes watering. Through the silk of his blue shirt, he felt small gentle hands on his back, soothing him, with the occasional slight smack. He sucked in a huge amount of air and lunged forward.

"NANI!" he rasped, beer can slipping from his hand.

Shuichi nodded again, sitting with his legs sticking out at his sides. He gave Yuki a small watery smile as he welled up, emotional over the other man's reaction. "Honto, for a couple months now. I needed money, and there was this guy, and well, he made me, uh-" he gave the universal sign for 'you know' and shrugged.

Yuki raked his fingers through his hair, "Made you! Raped you, you mean." There was an edge in his voice that made Shuichi shudder, a change in his body from cool laidback asshole to scary, tense asshole. "Iie, it wasn't rape, I mean, yeah, it was my first time, but I let him do it, and I took his money afterwards." Yuki began to pace the large almost empty room, muttering and smoking. Shuichi watched for a few moments, his purple eyes moving from right to left, left to right as Yuki paced, his eyes crossing from the movements. Dizzy, he promptly keeled over, legs sprawled over his head. Yuki abruptly stopped mid-pace, leaning back a little to see what had happened. Scowling, he grabbed a slim leg and pulled him off the couch. Shuichi's head hid the floor with a 'thump' and a groan from the singer. Yuki dragged him across the room towards the door. He opened it with one hand, while still hold Shuichi. "Wah…?" Shuichi mumbled as he looked up at Yuki; "Get out," Yuki growled and tossed the bishie singer none too gently out into the hallway.

"AIEE!" Shuichi squeaked as he skidded against the carpet. He struggled to rise and by the time he got to his feet and dove for the open door, Yuki slammed it in his face. Shuichi banged on the door, "Yuki! Onegai, let me back in. Yukiiiiiiiiii!" he whined. The door suddenly opened a crack and Shuichi smiled, then a beer can flew through the air and hit him in the forehead. "Ouch!" he yelped as he was tossed backwards. "Hey!" he shouted to the closed door. Rubbing his head, the singer slowly realized that this was a lost cause, and that he might as well forget it.

He left the apartment and went back to the park where he had met Hiro after the first time he had sex for money. Night had fallen; a cool breeze ruffled his hair as he sat on a bench with his legs tucked up against his chest. Tears welled in his eyes and flowed freely leaving wet trails down his pink cheeks. No one loves me, I am unlovable, I'm alone and talent less. He sat there for some time, wallowing in self-pity, until a shadow blocked the light from the street lamp above him. He looked up to see Yuki standing over him, his face lost in shadow. Shuichi stared at him expectantly; Yuki said nothing, just sat down on the other end of the bench. He took out a cigarette and smoked it in silence. Shuichi's tears had become a mere trickle, only a few tears escaping with the occasional hiccup.

"What is your rate?" Shuichi jumped at Yuki's voice breaking the silence.

"Huh?" Shuichi blinked, words not registering.

"Your rate, for your…services." Yuki said quietly.

"Oh, uh, well, thirty thousand a night, but why do you want to know that?"

Yuki blew a ring of smoke out of his mouth, "My editor wants me to start my new book as soon as possible. I want to contract out your services until I finish with it."

Shuichi sat there opened mouthed, gaping at the older man, "Doushite?"

Yuki shrugged, "There are some social functions coming up that I need to have an escort for, and," he leaned in and cupped Shuichi's cheek with a slender hand, "you look really cute right now."

He leaned in and kissed Shuichi on the mouth. At first, Suichi was too shocked to do anything, and then he wanted to push away, remembering the first rule in the baishunfu trade. His feeble attempts to break away soon melted under the hot pressure of Yuki's tongue slipping into his mouth. The mix of tobacco and beer flooded Shuichi's mouth and he wrapped his arms around Yuki, crawling into his lap to be closer to him. Yuki's hands gripped his shoulders, while Shuichi's hand raked through his hair. They sat like that for a while, making out under the yellow light of the lamp post.

After about twenty minutes, they separated, Shuichi breathing heavily and getting more aroused now that they were not locked together. He had never felt this way about his other clients. It had always been close-your-eyes-close-your-mind-and-not-think-about –what's–being-done-to-you. But this, this was something more, it was love. Yuki on the other hand, although he was as mussed up as Shuichi from their hot and heavy make-out session, didn't even break a sweat.

"Have you decided to take up my proposition?" Yuki asked quietly.

Shuichi smiled, "Sure. How long will I be-uh-contracted?"

"Until my book is finished."

"Ah."

Yuki held out his hand, "Torihikika?1 "

Shuichi grinned and grasped the author's hand. "Hai!"

Even if it was a false relationship, Shuichi would still be with Yuki, and perhaps, he thought, something would happen in the end.

Finally! Whew, they finally get together, after 6 chapters! Well, I wanted a good set up before they actually got together. Hope y'all like it!

Vocab:

1. Torihikika—deal?