a/n: My first 'Gravitation' fanfic. I'm not terribly familiar with the characters so bear with me in OOC land. Anyway, I think there should be more Hiro-Shuichi fiction out there!

Disclaimer: Happily, I have never done drugs and am therefore unable to create any story remotely as ridiculous as Gravitation. (Waves the disclaiming wand)

Chapter 1

"They always worried about me, but I totally showed them! I finally made a life for myself; a perfect, normal life!"

There are definitely levels to how insane he is, and I can proudly say that I am completely unshaken by most of them. This, though? I find it too hard not to react, even if it is just a lift of my head and eyebrows.

I guess you could call this a bit of a down day. I mean, yeah, Sakano is panicking about some press appearance tomorrow, Suguru is throwing a fit about something or another, and K is off blowing shit up...but other than that, there's really nothing going on. So, here I sit, screwing around with my guitar in our 'conference room' as Shuichi checks his email on Sakano's computer.

I think he was talking to himself, but whatever.

"Normal life?" I repeat him, actually feeling the amusement leaking out of my ears. I'm not smiling, though. That'd be a waste of energy on my part, seeing as he doesn't ever watch my reactions.

"Aww, awww! Maiko misses me!" It occurred to me, once, that Shuichi naturally leans toward nonsensical conversations—dialogue that probably shouldn't even be called that. It's not like he ignores my questions...I just think...he's, well, too...he just doesn't pay attention, I guess. Maybe I should feel insulted, but I don't.

"I'd hardly call your life normal," I say with an airy smile, continuing as if he had actually answered my question. I lower my gaze back to the guitar in my lap. "What, with the band, and the famous boyfriend, you know?"

He actually turns this time, gently worrying his lower lip. I wish I wouldn't notice these things.

"Do you think Eiri would like me better if I was more normal?" Ignoring the fact that that made almost no sense, he's worried; worried about pleasing that silly novelist. I'd almost find this unbelievable, that he'd ask me such a weird question, but this is Shuichi...he fits 'weird' to a T.

"Maybe," I return, noncommittal in every way. If he was anyone else, he would have noticed that talking about his and Yuki's relationship makes me squirmy, and if he was anyone else, I would have told him so. Yeah, I can see why he'd initially be attracted to someone as abrasive as that Yuki character; I just don't get why it hasn't gotten old.

Shuichi...ick. I know you tend to bleed when you're excited, but I hope you're not a masochist.

I look up at him, but he's focused on his laptop again, eyes shining. Yuki must have been awfully nice to him last night. I think I just heard him say his lover's name, the silly boy.

Being born just a bit dull, like that, must give a disadvantage, but the lack of cunning puts him in a position where fidelity comes easy—it's practically a given.

Cute...? Yeah, he is. I won't lie.

"Eiri, Eiri, Eiriii." He says the word delicately and quietly, like he's afraid of exposing such a holy thing to the outside world. I hear him tapping his foot at the ground. "Wonder what's for dinner..."

He acts like Yuki is his housewife, though it's painfully obvious who the controlling one in their relationship is. The novelist has the ability to literally operate my friend to his moods...do you think that wouldn't get on my nerves a bit? And then that he's so flippant about it...! I don't like seeing Shuichi stifled by Yuki's bad moods, but how can I say anything when the man's simple acknowledgement gets him so...high?

Shuichi can shine on his own. I hate this collar Yuki has around his neck...and there's no way I can break it...still, I don't understand. Small part of me doesn't even want to.

"Yuki's cooking again?" I ask, feigning interest in their weird relationship. Best friends are supposed to do that kind of thing, I guess. As it turns out, my supposed desire for these details just delights him.

"Yeah! YES!" He jumps up and knocks down the laptop, effectively giving Suguru and Sakano something new to bellyache about. "His cooking is...YES!" And there he goes, bouncing off in some other world with his dreamy eyes and ridiculously-coloured hair. I lean back against the wall and watch him, detached, as I monologue here.

"Hiro!" He ceases his spazzing to kneel on the ground in front of me. My eyes meet his, forming that sort of comfortable eye-contact that only close friends can form, and I wait for him to speak, a pleasant (but not overly pleased) look on my face. I can already see the direction in which this conversation will sail.

"If...If...Eiri...and me...you know..." Please, spit it out. That apprehensive look in your eyes is killing me. "I mean, do you like Yuki or Uesugi better, like, if I had to take his...last...na...me..."

Three, two—aw, Jeez, man! Blood all over my face. Predictably, the squirt flew off in another direction with a strange wail and saved me from a mighty awkward conversation. Then again, Sakano will probably wet himself over the bloody state of the left wall. I'm not looking forward to hearing how much his indiscretion (understatement there) upset The Honorable President Seguchi, which it probably didn't, but—hey, I'm not going to try to understand Sakano. Sakano is like...

Hm. Maybe I'll head home early.

Yeah, I think I will. And, on an unrelated note, I can't stand the feel of this blood on my face. Blood doesn't bother me, not in itself...but this blood does. This is the kind of blood that makes me mad. It's the kind that Shuichi just, well, spurts out carelessly whenever he thinks of Yuki. It's shed in Yuki's name. Yeah, and I'm grossing myself out with this train of thought.

So it bothers me a bit. It's like having the words "EIRI YUKI," or, if it so pleases Shuichi, "EIRI UESUGI," glaring all up in my face in a very metallic-smelling way. Please, I won't gag, but...allow me to at least be a bit offended.

Offended is okay...I just hope I never feel compelled to act on it. As much as I want to look out for the little psycho, somehow...I don't think getting Yuki away from him would help...nope.

A drink, though, that would definitely help. Me, at least. If only I could remember where I stashed Ayaka's number...

a/n: I'll update quickly so bear with me...