Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. Maki Murakami does.
Prompt: "You think I blame you," he growled softly. "For them holding you like this."
M Rating for language and suggestive themes.
Blame
"Why do you think I blame you?"
"Huh?" Startled, Shuichi's eyes snapped open from his timid spot on the pillow, wide eyes stunned as they took in the profile of his pale lover's stoic face. The night had been quiet after their activities, as it usually was when Yuki was in one of his moods. The young Pop star had found himself reluctantly entering the normal grasp of a lonely sleep beside his partner when the unexpected words had interrupted the bitter silence. "Yuki?" He prompted softly, carefully. A coil was building in the low pit of stomach.
"Hn." The response was short, and slowly the larger man shifted until he was on his side. Their eyes locked -- a confused violet with a vicious amber. The air was tense, and Shuichi was unable to keep back to reflective flinch as Yuki carefully reached out a hand to glide across his cheek. The golden eyes narrowed at the action. "I've seen the way you've been skirting around me. You're trying to hide it behind hyper-activity and blatant displays of public affection." The hand continued its ministrations. "But when we're in the apartment, you don't bother me anymore. And you're more timid than a virgin during sex. Like you feel ... unworthy."
For his part, Shuichi looked down, ashamed and slightly embarrassed at the word's leaving the novelist's mouth. He knew the truth when he heard it. "I-I'm sorry, Yuki. I didn't mean to offend you or bother you or anything like that-."
"You damn brat." And before Shuichi knew what was happening, he was suddenly on his back, Yuki straddling him and pinning his wrists tightly above his head. A sharp intake of breath -- the position was far too familiar, too recent. Unwillingly, he struggled against the dominating hold, anxious to be free and at the same time yearning the connection. Yuki's hold merely tightened. "Stop it."
At the dangerous tone, Shuichi instantly did so, staring up at the man pleadingly. The glare softened to the blonde's normal expression.
"You think I blame you," he growled softly. "For them holding you like this." His grip tightened momentarily in point before his leaned down, brushing their lips together faintly. "For kissing you." One hand fell away to trace down Shuichi's neck in a gentle caress, before tracing down to his ribs. "For touching you. For giving you countless nightmares." Carefully, hips ground forward, drawing a gasp from the teen despite his fear. "For ruining you."
The word was painful, and hearing it from his lover's lips was like a stab through his throat. Shuichi's gaze dropped from the adonis form above him as tears burned his eyes.
"No, Shuichi," the voice growled again. "Look at me."
"Ju-just leave me alone, Yuki," Shuichi pleaded softly. "Please. You're right, I'm sorry. I let them do what they did. I put you in danger, it's all my fault. I know. Just let me go, and I'll leave. I won't bother you anymore, I promise. Just-."
"Look at me." The command was so fierce, so instructive, that the protesting tearful orbs did just that. And Shuichi saw the same golden eyes that had captivated him so tightly on that night so long ago. Saw the same aloofness, anger, and bitterness that had always been there. But as he stared longer, he saw a glimmer of something else. Something -- deeper, more ...
"Y-Yuki?" The gaze softened further, but Shuichi could say nothing as his lover leaned down once more, brushing his lips against Shuichi's forehead in an uncharacteristically tender move.
"I found the chipped mug you tried to hide in the back of the cabinet." The subject change was so abrupt that the rose-haired man jerked in surprise. "I threw it out -- I don't keep things once they've been ruined. They're not worth my time." Yuki pulled back just enough to catch Shuichi's eye.
"Understand, brat?"
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