A/N: Ooh, I left you with a cliffy! Back to the action, ne? That last chapter was patchy too… Gahhhh, I'm starting to get mild writer's block, because my inspiration refuses to cooperate! But anyway. This chapter, hmmm… I dunno… Maybe? Urg, I can't think… But this chapter's here, thank god for insomnia!! (Sarcastic much?!) But this chapter is basically setting up for the end, and shameless bittersweet fluff. I think the end of the chapter reflected my insomnia-- I don't think it really made any sense...

You all make me so happy! I love reading your reviews and reactions (if you so include them) and, seriously, it makes me so happy to know that y'all are enjoying something that I do. I hate to sound gushy, but it really means a lot to me. Not just as a writer, but as a person as well. Knowing that there's someone, somewhere, looking forward to something I do is just… Wow. I'm sure you guys know the feeling!!!


Chapter Twelve: Disenchanted

The room was mostly silent, filled only with the strains of music that played through the speakers. Every time the song changed, the silence between was filled with the audible clicks of the clock ticking away time.

Shuichi couldn't bring himself to look away from Yuki's eyes; it had been over three years since he had stared into them like this. Not even that night at the hospital did he dare have eye contact with this man. He knew that if he ever did, there would be no turning back anymore; he'd never be able to stop the consequences those eyes brought about.

Yuki carefully examined Shuichi's actions. The boy looked shaken, but otherwise, he looked healthy enough. For that, the novelist was thankful—the last three or four times he had seen the boy, he had looked malnourished and in need of sleep. But what he wasn't thankful for, however, was how Shuichi was looking at him. The large, violet orbs were glazed slightly, and his eyes were widened.

Why the hell was he staring like the world was about to fall apart?!

"Shuichi."

The singer jumped, falling off of the sofa in the process.

Shuichi hadn't expected for Yuki to speak. Slowly, he stood, dusting himself off as he did so. Once again, he looked back up into his ex-lover's face. "Yuki," he whispered, the name unintentionally slipping from his lips.

Again, silence ensued from the two men.

"Did you…" Shuichi dropped his head, pink hair obscuring his face, his trembling voice breaking the vocal hush. "Did you really mean that?"

"Mean what?"

Shuichi sighed; same old Yuki, always making him beg for something he wanted. "That… what you said about love… Did you mean it?"

Yuki stared at Shuichi, his gaze softening immensely. If the singer were to look up, he'd find the novelist with such an unguarded look, it would make anyone instantaneously burst into tears.

"Of course I did," Yuki mumbled, stepping towards the vocalist.

Shuichi involuntarily took a step back. "M-m-more importantly, how do you know where I live?!"

Yuki stared sadly at the pink-haired pop star; the boy was shaking, and his eyes were wide.

Shuichi waited for the answer, leaning back against his sofa, his fingers enclosed tightly against the fabric. "W-well?"

"I asked Nakano for it. It took a bit to get it from him, but after your drummer vouched for me, he gave it up."

Shuichi swore loudly, stamping his foot. "I thought he said that he wanted me happy!" he hissed.

"He seemed to think that me coming to visit you would make you happy," Yuki said, reaching out to Shuichi.

His fingers brushed lightly against the boy's face, and curled into Shuichi's pink hair, the distance between the two suddenly closed.

"Did he now?" Shuichi whispered, the color draining from his face. "I wonder what would ever posses— Mn!"

Shuichi found himself bracing his arms against the sofa, his eyes closed tightly, and his tongue engaged in a battle that it long had missed.

Yuki tipped Shuichi's head upward, fitting his mouth even tighter against Shuichi's soft lips. Slowly, he rubbed his tongue deep into Shuichi's mouth, his free arm encircling the musician's waist. His teeth found the boy's lower lip, and he slowly bit, dragging his teeth slowly away from the flesh as he pulled away.

Panting softly, Shuichi blinked, docile and wide-eyed up at Yuki, and brought his arms around Yuki's, trusting the older man to hold him up. He brought their lips back together, moaning softly as Yuki's hand traveled down his spine and under his clothes.

Shuichi slowly pulled away, nuzzling his cheek to Yuki's shoulder. "I love you," he whispered shyly.


The blonde nuzzled Shuichi's neck gently, feeling the thin fingers dig gently into his shoulder muscles. Every time, even now, the novelist always marveled at the sheer intensity of the pink-haired musician.

Yuki's teeth found Shuichi's pulse, and the boy shivered slightly. "Oh, god," he murmured, his voice low and coated with sex.

Yuki chuckled deeply, and the vocalist squirmed, moaning.

"Stop teasing, god," Shuichi whined, glaring down into Yuki's golden eyes.

Yuki rolled onto his side, holding the singer close, sighing softly.

Shuichi blinked, cuddling slowly against him.

"I… I read your book…"

Yuki started suddenly, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Oh, well… I…"

"You hoped I would, didn't you?"

"Yeah," Yuki scratched the back of his head, just a little bit embarrassed.

"I came through better than you did," Shuichi said, sniffing haughtily.

"You did," Yuki affirmed.

Scowling softly, Shuichi bit his lip. "Get out," he whispered. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen…" He stood, rolling off of the sofa, wrapping the blanket off the side around his body. "It was unexpected. Enjoyable, but… Get out."

Yuki frowned, but slowly shook his head. After getting dressed, he stepped towards Shuichi, cupping the boy's cheek in his hand. "I don't understand you, Shuichi," he murmured.

Shuichi looked down guiltily, shrugging.

Without a word, Eiri Yuki left, closing the door tightly behind him.


"Nng!!" Shuichi pounded his fist into the sofa cushion, sobbing.

"Why do I always mess things up?!"

He brought the back of his hand to his eyes, wiping away the tears. Sitting back on his heels, he stared at the ceiling, wondering how in the world he could fix it this time.

Because this time, he had wanted Yuki to stay. He wanted it to go back to normal, and he had meant it when he told the writer that he loved him.