Okay, so maybe 'Tadaima' wasn't a one-shot. I thought it would be. Eh. Whatever. This is what's called "procrastination." *sigh* If only I didn't have term papers. . . Well, one more week and they're done. Then I can go back to hunting down the plot bunnies behind my bed. So, yes, I hope to create a Gravitation story with a little more to it. I just don't have the brain power at the moment. Or the time, really. . . *whistles innocently*

Anyway, you know what I own and don't of this story. Have fun!

Ladymage Samiko ; )


Okaeri. . .

By Ladymage Samiko

It was midnight and past (long past) when the door to the apartment opened once more. "Tadaima! Yuki!"

Shuuichi whacked himself over the head. "Baka," he teased. "Yuki won't be home yet. There's no way he could have flown from New York to here so quickly." He sighed. It would have been nice, though. The apartment was so depressing when it was empty.

He tossed his shoes in the corner and made his way to the kitchen. The concert and the party afterward had been totally awesome, but now he was majorly hungry. Wonder if anything's left in the fridge? Probably not. Still, never hurt to check. Poor Yuki's probably got stuck with airplane food. Yuck! Maybe I'll make something for him when he gets back. . .

Shuuichi stopped dead when he saw the kitchen counter. Sitting there, smack dab in the center for anyone to see, was his favorite mug. It may have been late and Shuuichi may have been muzzy, but he knew he had used that mug in Hiro's apartment. And left it there. Had Hiro--?

He left the kitchen quickly to investigate the rest of the apartment. His PS2 was next to the TV. His magazines and comic books had their own shelf in the bookcase. Yuki's study was exactly the same, but Shuuichi's table, computer, and work stuff were carefully laid out in what had been a guest room. His toothbrush was in the holder and his soap in the shower. With ever-widening eyes, he made his way cautiously to the bedroom and opened the door.

Yuki's bedroom had always been the inner sanctum; Shuuichi's presence was strictly by-invitation-only. And even those invitations had been short-lived. He always returned to the couch eventually, unless it was time to go to work. (This didn't happen often; Yuki was not a morning person in any respect.) Though, he had to admit, the couch was actually very comfortable. But now. . .

Laid out neatly on a chair beside the bed were the tank top and boxers he usually wore to sleep in. A peek in the closet revealed most of his other clothes. And, on the bed. . .

Yuki normally slept curled up, just as he was now, somehow defensive even asleep. He still slept the same way, but now, he was curled up around something, his body otherwise relaxed and his face peaceful. And what he was holding was. . .

Shuuichi's pillow.

"Yuki. . ." Shuuichi breathed, floored by the implications. Then he smiled brightly and, moving with a rapidity and silence heretofore unknown, he changed into his nightclothes and crawled into bed.

His hand moved to brush his lover's hair from his face. "Yuki," he said softly. "Tadaima."

Yuki's eyes opened blearily and a few seconds passed before a small smile appeared on his face. "Okaeri," he murmured. "Shuuichi."