Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation. Maki Murakami does.

Prompt: Yuki catches Shuichi in a flashback during a thunderstorm. Takes place 4 days after the attack.

M rating for Yuki's infamous language

Black Lightning

Fingers punched mercilessly at the worn keyboard of his computer; each button creaked and moaned in pain under his assault. But he simply glared at the white and black screen with narrowed eyes of amber, gritting his teeth in bitterness as, once again, he allowed love to exist. Hitomi had burst into the bathroom just in time to stop the battered and crusted kitchen knife from slicing into Takashi's wrist. Now she was holding him, promising him a life no longer filled with loneliness, and soothing away his tears with some of her own as she kissed them away. The epilogue would show a glistening ring on her finger and a smile on his face.

Lucky them. At least the ring would be damaged.

Yuki Eiri groaned deeply as he hit save on the final chapter, pulling his glasses from his face to massage his forehead, reluctant to continue on to his epilogue. The deadline, however, loomed overhead with a ten-hour ETA, and he did not wish to hear anymore whining from his editor about his apparent lack of time control. And the bright flashes of lightning outside of his window threatened a storm vicious enough to knock out the power and ruin his work if he waited long enough. And he did not want to have to write a sappy ending all over again.

Such a desire, however, did not keep Eiri from casting a wary glance toward the doorway of his study, nor stop the frown from forming on his face when he realized it was still empty. He had been surprised to find his young lover asleep on the couch when he had returned from the publisher's, out cold and oblivious to the world. It was highly unusual for the over-active singer, but since his deadline was so close, Eiri had jumped on the chance to get some work done while he was assured no disturbance.

He refused to believe that the sight of purple bags under Shuichi's eyes had anything to do with his decision to let the brat sleep.

"Damn it," he muttered as the sound of steadily drizzling rain came into existence, accompanied by a distant roll of thunder. Shit, this was just not ... damn. He quickly closed out the word processor and shut down the computer just as the power blinked out. Honestly, he made enough damn money that he should had have the rain-caused power outages cleared up by now. Touma would no doubt chastise him for not doing it sooner.

He couldn't even see his damn cigarettes. He knew that they had been close by, possibly half-slid under a stack of crapped-out ideas and trashy dialogue. He swept a tentative hand out carefully, freezing in the act as a particularly vicious bolt of lightning flared right outside his window, burning a white and violet hue, much like the brat's eyes whenever he was scared. The light lit up his study, revealing the sought-after cigarettes just as a wail of thunder cracked and resonated throughout his apartment, throwing everything back into darkness. But he could still get his cigarettes...

"No!"

The horrified cry from his lover's mouth instantly pulled Eiri away from his conquest, and he burst blindly forward without a second thought. He was used to Shuichi's over-exaggerations and hyperactive, inappropriate call-outs, but this was different. There was genuine fear in the teenager's cry of terror, and all Eiri could think was that someone had taken advantage of the cover of the storm and broken in, startling his lover awake.

'It could just be a nightmare,' he argued softly, grunting loudly as he rammed into the hall's entertainment stand and flinching as the potted plant it held crashed to the floor. Shit. But at least now he knew he was back in his living room.

"Alright, you damn brat. What is it?" He was worried, and hadn't meant to growl. But his foot was throbbing and his head was pounding and he was keeping his hearing sharp for any sound that signaled an intruder. But all he heard in response was pained whimpers and the soft sobs he knew to be Shuichi.

"L-leave me alone," came the hoarse response, and again Eiri froze as lightning lit up the room. He could barely make out the younger man's thin form, huddled up and shivering at the end of the couch, eyes wide as they didn't really stare at him. Again, the light faded just as quickly, and Eiri frowned.

"Shuichi-." A yelp cut him off.

"Don't come near me!" It was so steady, so certain. Eiri tossed aside the brief hurt he felt at the vicious words.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" He demanded harshly instead, stepping closer. "Calm down! You're going to wake the whole damn neighborhood!" A whimper was all that answered. Another crack of thunder made the singer cry out again, moaning against the assault of unseen assailants.

"Stop! You're - you're supposed to be my friend! We're friends! Why are you doing this?"

And then, Eiri knew. Knew and remembered. The night he had kicked Shuichi out of his apartment, the night that the brat's friend had come to him hours later. It had been storming. Storming, and he had escaped into the rain. It had been dark, except for the flashes of the camera that had taken those damn pictures.

And Shuichi was remembering, too.

"No!" The rose-haired teen cried out again as Eiri got closer, and the older man refused to connect how much Shuichi sounded like he had, once. "Don't ... please! Just leave me alone, leave me alone!" Another flash of lightning; Shuichi's eyes were closed now. "I told you I'd do it -- I'll quit!"

The writer's eyes, if possible, narrowed further. At any other time, he would have taken the opportunity to squeeze answers from his lover -- it was the perfect chance. But the tears that he could see steadily flowing down his lover's face at the next lightning flash stopped his questions in his throat. Instead, he reached out and brushed his hand along his lover's neck.

But Shuichi jerked back. "Don't touch me!" He hissed desperately "Don't!" And the blonde flinched sadly.

Oh, Shuichi.

But Eiri reached forward regardless of the hurtful protests, gently but firmly pulling the small body into his arms and against his chest, inhaling the sweet scent of Shuichi's innocence, tarnished by the fear he exhibited. God...

"Don't ... don't hurt me," the pink-haired youth murmured. "Please don't hurt me."

Eiri's eyes glinted at the next flash of lightning.

"I won't."

-__________-

He sat across from her at the table, outwardly calm. However, beneath the shelter of the thick wood, his long finger dug painfully into his knee as he waited.

"Today would be nice," he growled lowly, pinning his editor with a glare. "I have other places to be." She looked up to match his gaze, unaffected by the hard stare. He assumed she had grown immune to them over the years. Pity.

"It's ... different," she finally stated. "The way the chapters ended, I expected a happier epilogue. Not Takashi committing suicide anyway, or Hitomi following." His editor peered at him closely, obviously in question. But Eiri wasn't going to play the game today.

"Take it or leave it?" He demanded, sucking gratefully at his cigarette, thanking God for outdoor dining. Instantly, she pulled back.

"We'll take it, of course. Did you really doubt that?" She snorted as she placed his manuscript into her briefcase. "Ignore a novel of Eiri Yuki's. Right."

"Then we are done here." He released the smoke that had been building in his lungs. "Like I said, I have other places to be." He stood without offering any pleasantries.

"Wait, Eiri. I'm curious." He favored her with a glance. "Why? Why did she let him do it, and why did she follow?"

Unconsciously, he glanced down the street toward the direction of his apartment, imagining his lover asleep in his bed, finally resting after a night of endless storming, and answered her. "When someone you love is suffering, and you've done everything possible to help them with no success, you eventually have to trust that they know what's best for them. And after they do that, you realize that you want to be with them there, too." He blinked, startled by his own words, and replaced his scowl. "Hn."

And left.

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