Continuation requested by Yet Another Yaoi Fangirl. Send all your thanks to her.


The beer can in his right hand gradually warmed to his touch as Eiri Yuki shifted it from one hand to another. The writer stared at the ruddy glow of his laptop screen with a solemn expression, pressing his mouth to the aluminum lip of the can.


How long ago had they seen each other? Five months maybe? Five long months after the hyperactive super-rock star packed his things to tour?

For the first three, Shuichi took special care to message Yuki every day online through live webcam to whine about how the hotel beds were not cozy enough, how his toothbrush had been stolen by some 'dastardly field' (his floss-pink lover confessed in a hushed whisper that Fujisaki-kun had to have been behind this evil plan), and how he couldn't hug his Yuki goodnight…

…and then it happened every other three weeks at random intervals…

…and then less.

Clicking a few tabs on his built-in keyboard, the feed came through. The colorful image wavered a moment from the tops of skinned knees and righted itself to a grinning Shuichi adjusting the camera angle to his face. He waved cheerfully.

"…I know you will be getting this when you are still asleep, you lazy fatty, but I just wanted to tell you that Bad Luck finished in Fukuoka and it won't be long until I get home! Are you getting your groceries every week? I know you don't eat right when I'm not around. You know that junk you like like beer and cigarettes you can only live on for so long—"

Yuki gently placed down his sixth empty beer can and scooted it away.

The computer image of Shuichi tilted his head with a sweet smile, magenta-colored locks falling against his cheek, his hands clasped together and dangled in front of him. "—and don't get too mad but I was the one who called your sister to visit you so stop harassing Tatsuya about it. You would have ended up locking yourself in your study all week."

He winked an eye coyly, placing a finger against his lips in a manner he must have practiced in the mirror a couple times a day.

"Do you miss me? I bet you do. Five months without sex must be eating you up inside. I bet you've never been so long without it. Believe me, it hasn't be easy for me either! I tried to spoon Hiro one night and I couldn't see out of my eye for a week!" Shuichi chuckled as he added matter-of-factly, a dangerous light sparking in his violet eyes, "—but don't get too lonely and decide to sleep with someone else or you'll have to see me a lot in prison when I chop up their genitals and mutilate their corpses for trying to claim what is mine."

The skin around Yuki's forearms shivered.

Shuichi squealed, leaning forward in the screen, "So don't you worry about me, okay, and enjoy the rest of your day! I love you Yuki-chan!" Yuki's laptop zoomed in on his boyfriend's puckering lips as Shuichi kissed it and the transmission went dark.

The blond man clicked out of the message, and instead of reaching for the alcohol, he slipped a fresh cigarette from the carton propped on a plastic penguin ashtray, a still burning half-cigarette smashed into the ash. Yuki's eyes strayed over the ashtray, frowning slightly at the memory of his over-enthused lover shoving it under his nose for a late anniversary present. It had been more thoughtful then what Yuki had gotten him a week later, on the dollar rack at the drug store.

As tendrils of smoke floated around the lenses of his reading glasses, the writer opened up the NEW MESSAGE box. He straightened up in his writing chair, pitching the cigarette after a few deep inhales, and stared directly in his webcam.



The hotel manager was warned thirty minutes before Bad Luck returned to their suites. Bad Luck! How APPROPRIATE! Behind the reception desk, he twisted a map pamphlet between his hands nervously, sweat gathering copiously underneath the arm sleeves of his professional white collar shirt.

Hopefully… nothing would be set on FIRE this time…

As two of the band members passed him, the manager flinched, making a noise that sounded like a hiccup suffocating a squeak. The redhead saluted him with a grin.


"—and I still can't believe that girl with the mohawk made the jump from the second stage to the pit! It was unbelievable!" Shuichi recalled, throwing himself onto one of the double beds as Hiro silently shut the door to the room behind him. "It was almost worth having the security guard hit me in the face to grab her!"

"Ouch…" His best friend hissed sympathetically as Shuichi rubbed the red spot on his jaw, setting down his guitar and trailing his fingers over the strings lovingly. "Wasn't that an accident though?"

He sat up on his stomach. "Well yeah, but I wonder how many artists these days get the chance to see insane girls do that? And just for a wristband I threw away?" The pink-haired man perked up as he glanced over to see the screen of his cherry-red laptop flashing for his attention. He crawled over the bed to sit cross legged on the floor with it in his lap, moving his mouse over the alert.

"From Yuki-san?" Hiro asked, curiously.

"That's funny…he's never sent me anything before…" Shuichi gave his oldest friend an amused smile over his shoulder. The guitarist smiled back warmly. He clicked for the message to open and a moving image of his boyfriend enlarged full screen.

"Shuichi…I got your message. You better be coming home soon. We need to talk."


Somehow… just somehow… Eiri Yuki could hear the scene Shuichi was making at the airport to get on the next plane to their apartment's region. Yes. Their apartment. He could damn well admit it by now that he was attached to the sugar-driven runt.

He closed his jade-green laptop as something in the house rattled loudly. He made it in time to the couch in the sitting room when the front door slammed open, denting the plaster on the wall. A wild-haired Shuichi tossed his suitcases in the hallway, cupping his hands over his mouth as he yelled impatiently, "Yuki! WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Quit yelling, dimwit; you're giving me a headache."

The musician slid over on his knees on the hardwood floor to where Yuki stared down at him critically. Shuichi grabbed his hands and asked breathlessly as he squeezed them tightly, "Are you alright? What happened? What did you want to tell me so badly? You wouldn't believe what I had to do to get here…"

Yuki managed to pull them from the death grip. Somehow. His masculine fingers grazed across Shuichi's face, the cigarette between his ring and pinky finger a whisper away from pressing to burn against his lover's face. Shuichi responded to the warm, closed kiss he had been given quickly with another, going a bit cross eyed.

"Try calming down first," Yuki said, tugging on a few, pink strands of Shuichi's slackened ponytail before shifting away from him.

"No. You scared the hell out of me…I thought something was seriously wrong…"

"What is wrong is that you took forever on that tour."

"Wait, you missed me?" And somehow Shuichi looked surprised to know this.

Yuki's mouth thinned as he stubbornly placed the cigarette back to his lips.

"On second thought, maybe you should have stayed away longer," he muttered, blowing a cloud of grayish haze over his head.

"Stop it. Just stop doing that, alright?" Shuichi growled, "Stop acting like some kind of hard ass around me!" They were treading over another sensitive line. Yuki could see it in the way his lover swept a hand through his frizzed hair, digging the heel of his palm to his forehead, and the faint lines around his eyes deepened as Shuichi frowned fiercely up at him. It must have been difficult. Being away for so long.

In the past, Shuichi usually couldn't handle three or four hours apart without a cell phone number but without physical contact? And yes, it had been very lonely…

"I didn't ask you to come home to fight." Selfishly, Yuki moved over to grasp Shuichi's shoulders and lean heavily into his hair, lowering his voice, "There's a reason why I don't write happy endings… I don't believe in them… but…I have been happy with…"

Dammit. He could feel his nerves wavering. Shuichi looked honestly baffled.

"…you and…" Yuki longed silently for a quick and painless death. "…Japan has a hard time accepting any gay couples shacking up…let alone anything touching marriage…of all things, so…" And why was he talking in circles? The hooks of his eyeglasses pushed up the bridge of his nose as Yuki rubbed his temples.

"So…" Why was this so hard? "…I think you should stay with me in the apartment…you have been for a while and I've gotten use to your bullshit by now so…you should stay for a long time— what?" The blonde man paused as the purple eyes staring up at him rounded out into a ridiculously large proportion.

A mild nosebleed began trickling from Shuichi's nostrils as he sat motionless. "Yuki wants to marry me? My Yuki wants. To. Marry. ME?"

As the musician started on a near-epileptic fit (which quickly grew from a dull roar to an earth-shattering roar), Yuki gave up, leafing around for another cig— in the process pitching a few old manuscripts in the shredder by the coffee table.

"—and the wedding can be Western style with me in a white wedding dress—yaah!" Shuichi's eyes glittered with overjoyed tears. "My Yuki will look so manly in a tuxedo! I will just eat him up! Of course Maiko will be the flower girl and Hiro can be the best man because I don't like Yuki's brother getting so close to me…he touches me places that I only let Yuki touch when he wants to…"

The writer was about to correct him about the 'bride' (in question) NOT choosing the best man in the traditional sense but that last bit about Tatsuya made Yuki seethe and grit his teeth. The little bastard. He couldn't have his idiot Shuichi!

He continued on babbling, making Yuki very much wish there was an OFF button. "Oh~! I could be like a housewife to Yuki! I could do the cooking!"

"You can't cook worth shit."

"—And I could do the cleaning~!"

"You can't do that either." Yuki picked at his teeth, balling up another junk paper.

"—And I could go gossip with our neighbor downstairs over tea~!"

"The only reason she lets you in is because you feed her damn cat." The blond man squeezed his eyes shut when a small rocket of pain shot up his neck. Damn tension headaches. He looked back at Shuichi still babbling. Didn't he eventually crash?

"—ANNND I want to have babies! Lots and lots of babies!"
A predatory look formed over Shuichi's features, darkening his smile. "All with you, Yuki!"

A paper ripped soundly in Yuki's hands.

The rock star slinked over to where his boyfriend still remained stiff on the couch, crawling onto him, tangling their limbs together on the cushions as Shuichi kissed him. Yuki resisted until he could get the younger to flip onto his back. He broke from the ravaging kiss to whisper into his ear canal, "You're not wearing it, brat."

As if reading his mind, Shuichi's hand went up to his empty earlobe, "It's in my baggage—" His violet eyes rolled back in the sockets. The sentence collapsed with a overwhelmed whimper as Yuki crushed his hips harder against Shuichi's.

"Don't come into my bedroom tonight without it."

On his way to the foyer, Yuki heard Shuichi roll around on the couch (hugging his knees to his chest, pink-faced, panting) and giggle softly to himself.


Around eleven that evening, Yuki considered locking his bedroom door. He had an early morning to wake to (7 am meeting with an editor, 9 am with a potential publishing company begging him for a new release, 12 and 3 pm book signing cross-town)— and the new manuscript wasn't finished yet.

His 'inspirational' material comforts sat open and lit beside his laptop and notebooks. When the bedroom door unlocked at twenty past midnight, Yuki turned to the intruder to his creativity ("Get the hell out. Now.") and his mouth stayed gaped, his comment already drifting away from his conscious as Shuichi entered serenely.

Very naked.

He walked around Yuki's desk not very modestly, swinging his body (again, very naked).

Shuichi grinned. "You said I could come in with the earring. You didn't say anything else," he informed him as if the older man would try and argue with him.

At the same time he pushed his longish pink hair behind his ear— the dangly silver star earring flashing teasingly under the overhead lights— his bare hips thrust a little, his member growing slowly from its limp state. Yuki's hand seized the edges of his desk harshly, preventing him from leaping over it to ravish his lover.

"You don't mind if I get comfortable, do you?"

Yuki grunted as his answer, removing his hands so not to leave more damage on the mahogany and put his full concentration (or whatever he could manage) on his laptop's document, the sounds of his typing becoming rapidly faster. Meanwhile, Shuichi stretched cat-like on the bed to his back, happily purring, doing a damn good job of being distracting.

"It's very warm in here." Shuichi's eyes narrowed hungrily as they scanned over the blond man who chose that moment to cross his legs.

If he hadn't, he knew that his lover would have gotten a glimpse of the beginnings of his erection straining against the velour material of his drawstring pants.

Shuichi murmured sadly, flinging his head down on the sheets, and brushing a hand across his pert nipples. "I don't think you had any idea how much I missed you, Yuki. It was almost…unbearable…" He sighed the last word, his attentive hand traveling lower and lower to his stomach, over the ring of fine hair…onlygettinglower

It was then— being mercilessly teased— by his gorgeous lover he had not fooled around with, in the span of five LONG months with prolonged bathroom sessions— that Yuki's sense of higher self-control snapped as if brittled over time.

It didn't matter that Shuichi laughed at him when he finally did jumped him (as planned), or that Yuki was blushing embarrassed later when his lover let him in on that plan (both wrapped up in the warm blankets and freshly showered from the sticky fluids of two LONG sessions)—

"You really missed me, didn't you?" Shuichi kissed his cheek gleefully.

Yuki fought back a smirk. "No shit."


They would have the cutest babies ever, wouldn't they? ;D Gravitation isn't mine.