DISCLAIMER: I do not own Gravitation. I own the computer I wrote this computer on, though. Any of your are free to write fanfiction about my computer.

AUTHOR`S NOTES: First things first, don`t let the extremely disturbing Straight!Yuki at the beginning get to you. Just remember, Yuki was once straight. Or at least still in the closet. It`s all right. He disturbed me, too.

Mother, May I?

Chapter 1 - May I Sit?

“Is this seat free?”

Takako Akino looked up from her book into a pair of absolutely stunning golden eyes. She blinked in surprise as the face registered. The man standing over her looked so familiar! Who was he?

Realizing that she was gaping dumbly, into the face of an extremely attractive man who had just asked to sit by her, Takako hurriedly scooted over in the booth, pulling her glass and book along with her. “No, no, I don`t mind, by all means!” she said. She took a sip of her drink.

The blonde man slid in beside her. “Thanks.” He delivered her a half smile. “Not much free in this place.” Takako fairly melted at that smile and searched for something to say.

“Yes, it`s always full on Wednesdays, they sell some good American dishes for decent prices.” Takako toyed with a trendil of hair falling from her styled bun. She examined the man sitting next to her out of the corner of her eye. He was stunning, there was really no other way to explain it. His Japanese was perfect, no accent at all, but his looks were those of a foreigner. His skin was pale, his hair and eyes, golden. She`d never seen a Japanese man who could look so . . . exotic.

He reached into his blazer and pulled out a package of cigarettes. “Do you mind?” he asked her sideways, slipping a long white stick between his lips and searching for a lighter.

She shook her head. For a moment, she watched him light his cigarette, and then, feeling stupid, opened her book and leafed through for something to do.

“What`s your name?

She looked back up at the blonde. “Takako Akino.”

He grinned. “I`m Eiri Uesugi.”

“Eiri Yuki, ne Eiri Uesugi, resides in Tokyo, Japan, and has been writing since . . .”

Her eyes widened. “Eiri Uesugi? As in, Eiri Yuki, the writer?”

His golden eyes flickered down to the novel she clutched against her chest. “A fan?”

She nodded quite enthusiastically. “I love your writing! Your style is just so unlike any other I`ve ever seen! There`s such magic and sensitive emotion to your stories, when I read them, I just never want to put them down!”

“You even read them at bars, I see.” He commented wryly, taking a long drag on his cigarette.

She blushed at that and smiled self-consciously. “I couldn`t put it down . . .”

“Well, it`s flattering, at least.”

Her mind was in an utter daze. To meet Eiri Yuki here! What were the chances? “My favorite was White, the characters were so vibrant and alive. I wanted to be Mawata so badly. And I love that name, it was always my favorite, the fact that you chose it just …” she paused. Taking a deep breath, she laughed softly and set the book back down on the table. “I`m so sorry. I must sound like just another fangirl.”

He gave her an amused glance and took a long drag on his cigarette. “No, really, you don`t. If you were just another fangirl, you`d be going on about my face, not my work.”

Takako smiled then. She set the book on the table and forced herself to relax in the face of this man she admired and idolized. She was just going to be herself and make him feel comfortable. “Still. You probably don`t want to talk about your work when you`re having a night out for fun.”

He smiled slowly and moved a little closer to her. “Well . . . if you want to help me have fun, I`m game.”

* * *

Eiri ran his hands through Takako`s sweat damp, dark hair and internally sighed in satisfaction. She moved against him and made some little noise of contentment. Grunting, he flipped over onto his stomach, comfortable and tired. That hadn`t been half bad, for an easy pick up. Maybe he would ask for her number, tomorrow.

“You do this a lot, don`t you?” Takako murmured.

He cracked one eye open. “What makes you think that?”

A yawn. “Well, you sure know what you`re doing.”

“Yeah, well, I`m a guy who likes company.”

“Then –“ she made a deep, sleepy noise. “ – Then why do you sleep on your stomach? It`s the worst position for two people to sleep in.”

What the hell kind of a question is that? He thought irritably. “I don`t know, I . . .” He paused, noticing that she had stopped squirming and was breathing evenly as she curled up against his side.

Good. It was a stupid question anyways. He yawned and buried his face in his pillow, already drifting off to a very fulfilling sleep.

* * *

“Yuki! Wake u-u-u-up!”

Eiri mumbled something and waved a hand at the whatever it was, trying to recover that peaceful oblivion which had been wrenched so cruelly from him.

“Yu-u-uki!”

He grunted and buried his face harder into the pillow. “Go away.” He muttered.

“But Yuki! It`s already nine and you said we`d go out for breakfast this morning”

Oblivion was fluttering away, far out of his reach. Eiri growled and shoved the far too energetic ball that was pushing up against him. A very satisfying thump followed by a less-than satisfying wail was the result.

“Why are you so mean?”

“Why are you so annoying?”

The springs squeaked and the bed shifted. “Fine,” the voice said with a pout. “I guess I`ll just have to go make breakfast.”

That was not good news.

However, he had been robbed of his sleep, but would not be robbed of his victory. Firmly, Eiri kept his eyes closed while the bed shifted again, a door closed, and the sound of little feet padding down the hall reached his waiting ears. Now the trick was to stay in bed long enough that he could have been convincingly sleeping, but not long enough that Shuichi burned the apartment to the ground.

With the younger man gone, it was safe to open his eyes now, and at least Shuichi had had the decency to close the door on his way out. Eiri yawned and stretched, turning slowly onto his back. The sound someone singing Spicy Marmalade loudly and some banging noises drifted through the door from the kitchen. Eiri considered himself lucky in the respect that if he was going to be spending his entire life with a man who insisted on screeching out song after song all day, at least he got one who could sing in tune.

A smile touched his lips. He didn’t bother trying to kill it: no one else was around to see it. He raised his hand and examined the plain gold band on his left ring finger. Five years since he had met the silly brat. Three years since he and Shuichi had been married. Oh, he would never use that term to the brat`s face. They were “committed”, was what he usually called it. But, for all intents and purposes, Shuichi Uesugi was his husband.

A pitiful cry interrupted the singing.

Eiri realized he might find himself minus one spouse if he didn`t go and save him from the cooking demons.

He pushed back the covers and swung his legs out of the bed. The events surrounding sleeping were a plague to him, really. It could take him hours to get to sleep on some nights, and getting up was no more pleasant. He let his legs stretch as Shuichi made his way into The Rage Beat.

Languidly, the early morning sun blazing pleasantly through the window, Eiri dressed for the day. He wore his fuchsia shirt and a blazer, in the knowledge that he would be going out for breakfast as he said, regardless of how far his spouse was along with making the meal. Damned if he was going to eat anything Shuichi cooked.

Finally, as Shuichi finished singing Glaring Dream and was on his way to In the Moonlight (There were days when Eiri wondered if his spouse could sing anything but his own music.), the writer left the bedroom and walked out to the kitchen, where Shuichi was busy frying a least two bags of hashbrowns. Nothing was burning, although the copious amounts of food on the floor weren`t cooking all that well. And for some, reason, there was a pile of sliced up green peppers by Shuichi`s elbow, which Eiri chose to ignore.

“You couldn`t wait ten minutes?” Eiri asked flatly. He sniffed the air absently. Maybe something was burning.

“Yuki!” Shuichi exclaimed, turning around and spilling a spatula full of hashbrowns all over the stove. Yuki couldn`t help but notice how adorable he looked, dirty, happy, and surrounded by chaos. It shouldn`t have even been possible for a twenty four year old man to look so utterly cute. Or for him to find it so irresistibly attractive, he added as a afterthought.

He walked towards Shuichi, sniffing the air again. Yes, something was burning. “You don`t cook on high ..., idiot,” Eiri said as he reached over the smaller man`s shoulder and turned off the stove. “I don`t know how many times I`m going to have to tell you that. And don`t cook. Ever. Everyone will be happier.” he made to move away.

Shuichi pouted and quickly wrapped his arms around Eiri before he could get away. “Don`t go anywhere.” he muttered, burying his face into the novelist`s shirt.

“I have to clean up your mess . . .” Eiri said grouchily, but didn`t move for all his words. Truth be told, he actually enjoyed these cuddles he pretended to be trapped into. He realized that Shuichi was pressing a greasy spatula against his clean sports jacket, but said nothing. God, I`m going soft. He sighed and pushed away from the younger man.

“Yuki?”

“We`ll clean up,” he said, “and then go out for breakfast.”

“But by the time we clean up, no one will be serving breakfast anymore.” Shuichi protested.

Eiri silenced him with the technique he`d perfected over the years: by kissing him quite firmly. When he finally pulled away breathless, he allowed a small smile onto his lips. “Then we`ll have lunch.”

Shuichi smiled slowly and nodded. “I love you, Yuki.”

“I love you, too, brat.”

“You have to promise me.”

“No. It`s ridiculous.”

“Why? Yuki, you don`t understand! When I say I love you, it hurts when you don`t say it back! I know you do, but you only say it when it`s all right for you!”

“Shuichi . . . you know that I don`t like to . . . I find it . . . dammit, Shu!”

“Please, Yuki. When I say I love you, say it back. Please. You`re saying you love me enough to be with me forever. Why can`t you love me enough to say it back when I say it to you.”

“I said it once. Isn`t that enough?”

“Why is it so hard?”

“It just is.”

“Please Yuki. Just once a day. Just once a day when I say I love you . . . Please say it back. Please.”

Eiri squeezed the younger man a affectionately. It wasn`t that hard anymore. And it made him happy. For all the things he had done to Shuichi, he figured he owed it to him. “I`m going to go and get the broom.”

He left Shuichi standing in the kitchen, smiling very happily, with a spatula clutched in his hand and surrounded by a chaotic mess.

** * *

Breakfast was eaten at a tiny café near the apartment, where the two public figures could eat and not worry too much about being bothered. Five years, and Bad Luck`s popularity had not fizzled like so many bands of the same sort, rather, it had held and even grown. As was the tendency with writers, Eiri`s popularity had also held, each new novel topping bestsellers lists everywhere. Some of his earlier books had even been translated into English and marketed in America. They never enjoyed the popularity they had earned in their native Japan, but it was still nice to know his work was relevant enough to make a profit in other countries.

They sat in a corner of the shop. Shuichi chattered away happily and munched at his massive plate of “Best Buy Big Breakfast” while Eiri was content to listen, drink coffee, and have eggs and bacon.

Shuichi`s chatter suddenly stopped. Eiri looked over at his spouse, curious. “Yuki . . .” the younger man begun quietly, then lapsed into silence.

Eiri raised an eyebrow. “What is it?” he pushed the last bit of his fried egg around on his fork.

“Do you . . . well . . . do you ever . . .”

“Spit it out.”

“Do you ever wish that you had ended up in a normal relationship? You know, married to a nice woman with a kid and stuff?” Shuichi asked slowly, staring down at his plate.

Eiri sighed. He had been expecting this conversation ever since Shuichi`s younger sister had gotten married a year before. The news that Maiko was pregnant had probably been what pushed his spouse over the edge. “No.” he said simply and sipped at his hot coffee.

“But why not?”

“Girls are overrated. Relationships are overrated, for that matter. I don`t know why I`m in one. And I hate children.”

“What about Kyou?” Shuichi asked of Eiri`s 4 year old nephew.

“Kyou can be all right. Sometimes.” Eiri looked over at the other man. “Why do you assume I`d want these things when you don`t? Just because I`m not as utterly gay as you doesn`t mean I`m not happy unless I`m with a woman.”

Shuichi blushed. “There are times.”

Eiri furrowed his brow. “When what, you wish you`d married a woman?” Now that was out of character.

“No, no, not that at all. Times when I wish . . .” Shuichi`s voice dipped down even lower and Eiri missed whatever it was he said.

“If you`re going to talk, talk so I can hear you.”

“There are times when I wish I had a child.” Shuichi blushed deeply and Eiri held in a chuckle. No one could look so cute. It was impossible. And the total illogic of what the younger man had just said struck the novelist as entirely too funny.

“You need a woman for that, Shuichi.”

“I know that!” the vocalist said indignantly as his head snapped up to look his spouse in the eye. “I just thought that it was just a natural thing that everybody thinks about!”

“Well, rest easy, I have one annoying brat in my life, and it`s all I need.”

“I`m glad.” Shuichi`s shoulders heaved as he sighed heavily and popped more of his enormous breakfast into his mouth. “Hey . . .” he said slowly after he`d swallowed.

Eiri just smiled and pulled out a cigarette. “Finish eating. I`m not going to sit here until lunch waiting for you.”

** * *

Children were all over the roads as the two men walked back to their apartment. They were all off of school, and the neighborhood bustled with sounds of laughter and fun.

“I`m so glad we could go out.” Shuichi said happily as he hung off of Eiri`s arm. “Thanks, Yuki!”

Eiri gave the boy a small smile. “Well, it`s Sunday, after all, and –“ he broke off as a beat up, small white car screeched out of the parking lot of their building and flew past them at lightning speed.

“Hey! Watch it!” Shuichi cried back. Eiri thanked whatever god he still believed in that he had been able to repeatedly dissuade Shuichi from learned to drive. The brat had enough road rage as a backseat driver, and that, combined with his innate talent to make a mess of any situation, would not bode well for every other driver on the road.

“It`s not a big deal, they probably had somewhere important to go.” he said. He dropped the butt of his cigarette to the ground and put it out with his foot as he walked over it.

“Still!” Shuichi petulantly watched the direction where the car had driven away. “They could have killed some of these kids!”

They wade their way into the apartment building, which was quite pleasantly quiet after the noise in the neighbourhood. Eiri resolved that next time, they would take his car, regardless of how close the café was.

“I didn`t recognize the car . . .” the vocalist continued thoughtfully, following his spouse into the elevator. “I thought I knew all the cars of the people in this building. Isn`t that odd, Yuki?”

“Must you make a big deal of everything?” Eiri asked sourly.

“Sorry.”

Ding!

The elevator doors slid open. Eiri walked a few steps out and then paused in midstep.

What . . .

There was a child sitting outside the door of their apartment. A skinny little girl with long, wavy black hair and absolutely horrible clothes was sitting in the hall. Right by their apartment.

. . . the hell?

“A little girl!” Shuichi exclaimed, running with the speed of a jet plane past Eiri and down the hall to where the girl sat. “Hello!” he greeted enthusiastically. “What are you doing here, sweetheart?”

Eiri shook his head, concluding mentally that she was probably just lost.

“Waiting for my Daddy.” the girl said so quietly the writer had to strain to hear her. She raised her head from her knees to look up at Shuichi.

Shuichi made an odd face, and smiled more hesitantly this time.

What`s gotten into him, has she got scars or something?

“What`s your name, honey?”

“Mawata.” she replied. “Are you Shuichi Uesugi?”

Shuichi nodded dumbly.

“This is for you.” the skinny girl raised her arm. In her hand was clutched a piece of paper. Eiri`s heart fluttered for some bizarre reason, and he began walking towards his spouce and child.

As Shuichi read the paper and the color drained from his face. He slowly turned to look at the fast approaching novelist, who had a sinking feeling that something awful was about to happen. “Yuki.” he held out the paper. “I think you should see this.”

Eiri snatched the paper from Shuichi`s hand the moment he was close enough. Taking a deep breath, he read it slowly.

Eiri,

I`m sorry. She is yours. I can`t do it anymore. Don`t try to find me.

Takako

“Yuki . . . what is this?” Shuichi asked quietly.

“I don`t know.” Eiri`s voice rasped around his dry throat. His mind was a blank. He read the note again. “I don`t know.”

“Daddy?” a tiny voice asked.

Eiri looked down, his heart frozen in fear, at the little body he knew was connected to the hands pulling on his pant legs.

His eyes widened.

The note fluttered from his fingers.

Eiri stared starkly into an undeniably familiar pair of wide, golden eyes.