Disclaimer: Gravitation and its characters are the property of Maki Murakami. I make no profit from this other than pleasure.
This is an AU, chapter one caveats still apply. :D
Warnings: The fastest twenty minutes-to-pizza in the history of lit-ra-chur!
A/N: I'm really sorry this wasn't up last weekend as promised. I just couldn't get a couple of points to read the way I wanted after the addition of the last chapter. I think it's okay now. Sometimes it just needs to sit a while.
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Chapter Six: Monkey-face
by Vindaloo
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Sunlight glinted off a familiar fall of shining, mahogany-colored hair.
"Hiro?"
Kami-sama, what was wrong with his voice? And... where the hell was he? And why was Hiro curled in that over-stuffed chair? A chair he'd never seen before?
Shuuichi tried his voice a second time. "H–hiro?"
Storm-grey eyes fluttered open, squeezed tight as a large yawning mouth appeared beneath them. Long, spidery fingers raked through that beautiful mop of hair, sweeping it back, giving it a twist that Shuuichi knew would hold it behind the narrow shoulders at least until the next jaw-cracking yawn. Another blink, and a sleepy smile.
"Mornin', monkey-face."
The familiar nickname, the accompanying warm tone was just... too much.
He burst into tears.
"Shuuichi!" The bed bounced and skinny arms pulled him into the embrace that meant more to him than any embrace in the whole world. "Hey, monkey, it's okay. You're safe now." More words happened, words of reassurance that barely penetrated his ears. All he cared about was the fact that his best friend was still speaking to him, that his best friend's arms surrounded him, and that his best friend was rocking him gently, easing the pain, chasing away the fear, as Hiro always had.
"I'm sorry, Hiro," he whispered through his own sobs. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I blew it. I'm so stupid. So damned incompetent. We were so close. And it was all for nothing. No distribution. It's all over—"
"Shu." Hiro took his arms and pushed him back. "Shu, shut up and listen to me."
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm—"
"Sorry. I know. But there's nothing for you to be sorry about." Hiro's improbably strong, guitarist's fingers gripped Shuuichi's face, holding him steady. "Look at me, Shu."
He tried, blinking his lashes free of the tears, and Hiro's thumb swept across his cheek, taking the dampness with it.
"Yuki-san has explained everything. You've got nothing to be sorry for. I just wish you'd told me a long time ago."
"You'd have stopped me."
"Damned right I would."
"And used your college fund."
"Damned right I would."
"I couldn't let you do that."
"Damned right you..." Hiro paused. Blinked. And pulled Shuuichi back into his arms. "Fuck."
For a time, Shuuichi just let himself be held. He'd never felt so...drained, so...unworkable. None of his muscles functioned the way they were supposed to and it was just easier to let Hiro do all the work and hold him upright. His brain was even less cooperative. Everything before he fell asleep was a blur. All he really remembered was going to the hotel, the penthouse suite...and a general sense of panic. Of horror and utter humiliation...
Sudden comprehension gave him the energy to ask: "Y–you said... Yuki-san ex–explained. S–seguchi-san's brother in law? Wh–what did he tell you? How... how did he know..."
A pause, then, "Shu, don't you remember?"
"Not really. It's... all fuzzy."
"Yuki-san... he saved you from those pervs. He didn't like how you were acting in your dressing room and followed your cab. He had to convince the hotel staff to let him into the room and by the time he got there, well, you were pretty messed up."
He buried his face in Hiro's neck, unable to look his friend in the eye. "They... gave me something, Hiro. Powder they dissolved in champagne. I tried not to, but they made me swallow it. I don't remember much after that, except..."
Suddenly, he flashed on the room, the bed, on some small weapon aimed right at his face. His eyes. Pain. Screaming. Hands holding him, clamping his face, forcing him to endure...
"Shu!" Hands holding him, shaking him. "Shuuichi, snap out of it!"
"What's going on?" A voice he should know, but didn't, demanded.
"He woke up. He seemed all right. We were talking, then... he just started screaming."
"Oh, for the love of—" A third voice, deep and rich, and with it, another hand entered his reality, sharply, shockingly.
Painfully.
"Dammit, Yuki-san!"
"Shutup, Nakano." A voice, cool and distant, but a voice that resonated somewhere deep inside him. Resonated and registered... safety. Again, that extra hand impacted Shuuichi's face, rocking his head back. "And you, you pint-sized idiot, get yourself under control. Do you want to ruin that fucking fabulous voice of yours?"
That noise. That horrible screeching sound... that was him. He tried, he truly tried, but it wouldn't stop. He kept thinking of that... thing and the pain and how any minute now, they'd miss and it would come straight for his eyes and he'd be blinded forever and—
"Fuck..."
The screeching ended abruptly, swallowed by a cavern. A cavern, warm and damp, tasting of tobacco and... strawberries.
With whipping cream.
Shuuichi groaned and arched up into that touch that was, somehow, surprisingly, familiar, wrapped his arms around the attached neck, deepening the kiss as the other events of that nightmare evening snapped into focus.
And just as it had there in the nightmare's bathroom, Yuki's kiss filled him with a strangely calm strength.
"Well. At least we know how to shut you up, brat." That voice, still cool and distant, murmured against his mouth.
Slowly, reluctantly, he let the author go, only to huddle back down into the bed, too mortified to meet the eyes of any of the people now packing the room. Hiro, Yuki-san, Suguru...a tall, broad-shouldered man with long blond hair, a small, be-spectacled woman, and the owner of that almost-familiar voice: Seguchi Touma, president of NG, who stood against the wall, arms gracefully akimbo, staring down at him.
At him. The pseudo-employee-turned-prostitute who'd been kissing his brother-in-law. The male pseudo-employee.
The soon-to-be-ex-pseudo-employee.
Notably missing...was Sakano.
How much did they know? Why wasn't Sakano here? And what must they think of what Yuki-san had just done? And not just Yuki-san. He'd kissed back, had wrapped his arms around the tall author like they were lovers...
What must they...
Oh, kami-sama, what must Hiro think?
He ventured a glance, saw Hiro looking from him to Yuki-san, a strange expression on his face, and ducked his head, wondering if it was possible to die of humiliation, but then Hiro's hand gripped his, bringing a wave of relief. "As certain as I am that Shu will eventually appreciate everyone's concern, he's pretty confused right now. I wonder if you all might leave us alone again?"
Kami-sama, he loved that voice. So calm. So polite. So always full of the right words. He felt the tears start to leak again and tried to hide them in a pillow. Another hand, not Hiro's, brushed through his hair, then settled, light and steadying, on his shoulder.
"Excellent notion, Nakano," Yuki-san's cool voice said, just over his head, and the hand on his shoulder slipped away. "In fact, you rubber-necking idiots, I want you all out of my house. Now."
His house? Oh, dear Buddha... "Hiro, where am I?" he whispered, as the sounds of people leaving faded behind the sound of a closing door.
"Where do you think, baka?" Yuki-san's voice answered at his back, and a weight pressed down that side of the mattress.
Shuuichi, who had been certain Yuki had left with the others, swallowed hard and burrowed into Hiro.
"My options were limited at the time," Yuki continued. "Didn't think you'd want the emergency room. The hot glue thing... I'm sure that was pretty painful, but it didn't seem to have done much damage, and they'll fall off... eventually. Probably. That drug they gave you was nothing to worry about. Ketamine... standard date-rape shit, and a mild dose at that. You're a real pansy, aren't you?"
Objections flared, but Hiro spoke up before he could voice them.
"He would be." Hiro's hand squeezed his. "He never takes anything. Doesn't drink much other than water."
"Not to mention he's a fucking midget. Ounce for ounce, I suppose the dosage wasn't that small. Still... Health freak, is he?"
"No. Just careful." Another squeeze. "He knows Suguru and I depend on him."
"Regular social worker. I suppose this newest gig was all for you as well."
"With all due respect and thanks for what you did for him, you should be careful to know your facts before you try to put someone down, Yuki-san," Hiro's wonderful calm permeated the room. "He got himself into this... newest gig, as you put it, so I wouldn't have to sacrifice my college fund. I would have, had I known those dinners he was attending were anything other than fund-raising meals. He knows that. He put himself through hell to protect the future he thinks I put on hold to help him follow his dream. As grateful as I am for what you've done, I can't let you hurt him more than he already has been."
"I don't want to hurt him, I just want him out of my bed!"
His bed. Of course it was. And of course, he wanted it back. That kiss, that kiss that held... everything... of the kisses he'd once dreamed about—that magical kiss had meant nothing to this sophisticated, exquisitely perfect man.
"I—I'm sorry," Shuuichi whispered. "O–of course you do." He pushed back the covers, and realized he had nowhere to go, Hiro on one side, Yuki-san on the other, and neither showing any inclination to move, glaring across at one another as they were.
Avoiding both dagger-filled stares, he began to work his way to the foot of the bed, crawling carefully, swallowing repeatedly as his stomach showed a disturbing tendency to rid itself of the spit that was all it currently had to work on. He rolled off the mattress, and stood there, squeezing his eyes against the pain of swollen feet and returning circulation.
When he thought, maybe, he could manage, he headed slowly for the door. He opened it—onto a huge walk-in closet.
From somewhere, laughter began, for all he didn't feel the least bit amused. Laughter began and wouldn't stop, just like the screams earlier wouldn't quit. Laughter that mixed with tears as he leaned against the wall and slowly slid down to sit curled on the floor, his knees simply refusing to hold him up any longer.
"Well... wasn't that an effective exit?" Yuki-san's dry voice asked, and Hiro's matching response: "Wonder where he thought he was going to go?"
Tears won, driving out the laughter. "I don't know..." Shuuichi said, and it sounded like a whimper even to him, which he hated and tried to control. "I don't..."
"Don't be dumber than usual, Shu," Hiro said, on a gentle laugh. "I just meant you have no shoes. Be a pretty painful walk home."
Shuuichi shook his head, and confessed the truth at last. "I mean, I don't know where I'd go." He looked up, met Hiro's puzzled gaze, knowing the answer before he asked: "When was the last time you were in my apartment?"
The puzzlement grew, and Hiro shrugged. "I dunno... three weeks?"
"Over two months, Hiro." They'd been so busy, working on the CD, they'd been at the studio more often than not and when they did get together socially, it had always been at Hiro's place. "I... moved out more than nine weeks ago. I've been living—well, sleeping—at the studio. My stuff's stowed in a closet there." He swallowed hard. "I've cycled everything, everything back into the album. And now... and now... I won't be able to give them away."
He felt the tears forming again, and had to look away, unable to face Hiro's pity and Yuki-san's derision. He leaned into the wall and hugged his knees to his chest.
"The point is, I don't have anywhere. Sakano-san is certain to stop looking the other way when he finds me on the lounge couch—hell, I probably couldn't even get past security now—I can't move in on you, you've barely enough room for you and Chiro."
"Chiro?" he heard Yuki murmur with a certain over-blown curiosity, and Hiro snorted. "My mascot... don't push it."
Shuuichi wanted to laugh and cry again. He wanted Chiro right now. At the moment, an oversized, stuffed guitar in his arms would come very welcome.
"I...suppose I can get my old job washing dishes back, but even so, first and last month, security deposit..." He sighed again and pushed himself to his feet. "I... I need time. Time that I don't have. But you. Suguru. Kami-sama, Hiro, I've made such a mess of things... Maybe... I'll talk to Seguchi-san. There's no way my mistakes should ruin your chances. Or Suguru's. I mean—"
"Are you ever going to put this idiot friend of yours out of his wallowing self-pity?" Yuki-san asked, cutting through his uncontrollable babbling.
"I dunno." That was Hiro. "I was kind of wondering just how much 'stupid' he could spout before he ran out."
Shuuichi found his babble dying in his throat as he stared from one to the other, wondering what in hell they were talking about. What had happened while he was sleeping?
Yuki stood up and stretched, heading for the... other... door. "I'm going to order pizza. Speak now, or eat what I decide."
Shuuichi blinked. Pizza? A slow glance at the window confirmed it was, indeed, late afternoon. He hadn't eaten for over twenty-four hours. He should be starving, but he answered more out of habit than actual desire. "Uh... P–pepperoni? With jalapenos? Extra cheese?"
A faint smile appeared, but Yuki spoke to Hiro, not him. "Into hot and spicy, is he?"
Hiro grinned up at the tall author. "If you have tabasco in the house, you'll be buying more tomorrow."
A sculpted blond brow lifted. "I'll hide it. Thanks for the warning."
Yuki disappeared out the door, closing it silently behind him.
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Eiri paused just outside the door, pulled out his cell phone and punched the quick-dial to his favorite pizzaria. Leaning his back to the wall, he listened with one ear to the automated ordering system's questions, and with the other, to the conversation taking place in the bedroom, surprisingly curious regarding the precise nature of the relationship between the two 'old friends.'
"Wh–what's he mean, Hiro?" Shuuichi asked, with a creak of springs and a rustle of blankets. Good, at least the idiot had gotten off the cold floor.
"Well, I'd say he's going to hide the tabasco to keep you from drinking it."
Good counter, Nakano. Eiri smiled into the safely empty corridor as he punched the keys to order the requested pepperoni and jalapenos. (He'd long since memorized the restaurant's menu.) He was beginning to like this guitarist friend of Shindou's.
"I don't mean that, and you know it."
There was a pause. Eiri could just see those purple eyes steadily meeting storm-grey. And when Nakano answered, his voice was filled with compassion.
"I guess we've left you hanging long enough to set the lesson, monkey-face. Bad Luck's not through. We're going to have to recut the CD, but it'll be with Seguchi-san's advice and NG's full backing. That blond guy? He's our new manager; said to call him K. He's American. The woman was NG's contract lawyer. She brought the new contracts down from the studio for us to sign."
New manager, contracts signed before Touma had time to reconsider: just two of the details he'd . . . discussed . . . with Seguchi while Nakano sat with his friend, oblivious to the negotiations.
A long pause, then a shocked: "Why? How?"
Eiri closed the phone softly and slipped it back into his pocket, waiting for Nakano's response.
"Seems we have Yuki-san to thank for that, too. After he told Seguchi-san he was an idiot not to be producing us, Seguchi-san listened to our CD. At the time you were getting all sparkly, he was already talking to Sakano about making the shift."
That was the story they'd given Nakano, and was to be the official one. From his tone, Nakano had fully accepted it. Unfortunately, after his past few months' experience, Shuuichi was a bit more canny than to accept it a face value.
"So it's not because..."
Time, Eiri decided, to take the explanation out of Hiro's under-informed hands.
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"Seguchi Touma doesn't do things out of the goodness of his heart." Yuki-san's resonant voice filled the room. "Pizza in twenty minutes, children. —First of all, he hasn't got one, a heart, that is, and secondly, if he did, he wouldn't waste it on goodness. Or guilt. You're a fucking smart investment, as he'd have realized months ago, if he'd ever bothered to listen to that crap demo of yours."
Shuuichi felt resentment rising. "How do you know it was crap?" It was, but damned if Shuuichi would admit it to this man, no matter he was gorgeous... no matter he'd rescued him from a fate worse than...
Fuck. He set his mouth and lifted his chin.
"You never even heard—"
Yuki bent over and pressed his lips hard against Shuuichi's defiance. To Shuuichi's profound disgust, rather than maintain his dignity, he melted into a puddle of goo.
"Definitely works," Yuki murmured against his lips, then pulled away to sit down on the chair, facing him and Hiro. "I didn't have to hear it to tell you it was over-produced, over-sung, and over-aware in every sense. You tried to pack everything you are into one fucking song, and it came out a mess."
Shuuichi hung his head.
Hiro chuckled. "Right on every count."
"Touma, had he not been too stubborn to give that demo a listen, would have heard that, would have known how to take all those elements and highlight them, one at a time, in the right order and in just the right way to make an album. The one indisputable fact, seeing you on stage, is that Bad Luck is no one trick pony. You have scope. Substance. A shitload of talent for Touma to tap at will." He smiled, a slow and secret smile. "Doesn't hurt that one of you is sexy as hell."
Shuuichi felt the heat rise to his face and hugged his arms around himself. "Not by choice," he muttered.
"Did I say you, brat? Nakano's the one that'll have them fainting in the aisles. You—"
The doorbell rang.
"That'll be the pizza." Yuki rose smoothly to his feet, heading for the door, pausing beside Shuuichi to catch his chin in his hand. "You? Well, you're just kinda cute, monkey-face." He bent and kissed Shuuichi again, lightly, with a seductive brush of his tongue against Shuuichi's.
"Catching flies, brat?" he asked, before disappearing out the door.
TBC
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A/N: Oooo...complications. Ah, well, that's what happens when you add a scene into the middle of an existing story. Now...Hiro has (albeit unknowingly) lied to Shuuichi. Ah, well, again...more fodder for the sequel: what happens when Shu finds out the truth about why Seguchi took on Bad Luck? And will Touma take Eiri's high-pressure tactics out on the band? And just what is Sakano's punishment? Don't ask me. I dunno...yet. First things first. Next chapter: Strawberries and Cream.
Meadhb: Hiya! Glad you're enjoying it. I think Suguru is a potentially fascinating little guy. I'm as guilty as the next Yuki/Shu obsessed writer about under-utilizing him, but after this chapter, I think I might be finding my 'inner-Suguru' so he might be showing up a bit more. I wanted him to be a real member of the band in this sequence. Still a bit apart, because he just doesn't share the history of the other two, but definitely a concerned member.
Bakayasha: Now do we really believe manga-Yuki stopped cuz Shu didn't have tits? Methinks the lad doth protest too much! Personally, I think falling on his butt on the floor had a bit more to do with his wake-up call. :D:D:D
Pinkrose: I'm glad the characters come across IC. I get so involved in the story when I'm writing that I don't really think about it and by the time I post, it's all such a balancing act, I couldn't change them even if I wanted to:D
Nocturn Sadist and A-E: Aren't those crystals just the weirdest thing? I do not know where the idea came from! Yup, they'll come off...in some hopefully memorable little sequences. Skin replacement cells and all that. I'm assuming, actually, that it's a lower-heat glue than that used for affixing crystals to fabric, but Eiri didn't know that. And even low-temp glue hurts like the dickens if you get it on you. Besides, such details weren't meaning much to our drugged up little singer at the time.
Bubble: Even in my reading of the manga and anime, the music is actually part of what attracts Eiri to Shu, for much the same reason as I describe here. Artistic commitment recognizes artistic commitment...even if they aren't speaking quite the same language. Call me crazy. :D
Scorch: I don't think Eiri's done with Sakano yet. But...sequel! You all must think I'm nuts, relegating all this to the sequel, but remember, that last scene didn't exist two weeks ago:D It suggested a lot of possibilities. :D Thanks for picking up on Touma's snarky little gesture. Note as well that Eiri noticed the slight, but does he say anything? I think he's more into the "figure it out yourselves" style of teaching. You can bet Suguru noticed. ;-)
ghanima: Thanks. It is, hopefully, a story with some greys in it.
B-May: So sorry to hear about your mum. Hope she's doing much better.
Catmum56: Another M's fan? YAYAYYAAY. Or...oh, dear, who were we playing that night? Well, at least another baseball fan!
Supershu-chan: You know, I'm just now reading the fifth Harry Potter book. (Goblet) I like to see the movie first so I don't go into the theater with preconceived notions. (Going to see the new one this week some time) I'm one of the world's slowest readers, so generally skim a book first, then go back and really read it. Seeing a good adaptation (as these movies are) is like that first skim. I just let the actors and producers do the work for me:D Glad the Eiri/Touma exchange gave you a good giggle. It was really fun to write.
Chocho, Zoe, Bfly-R, KH, Misydidi, AN, I-O, Alaine, DarkIA101: Thank you!
To everyone else: thanks for reading! Vin