Drabble Request #11
For:
mojotmonkey
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Yuki/Shuichi
Rating: PG
Line: There were some things Yuki just did not want to see in his life. Shuichi surrounded by empty pixie stick tubes was one of those things.
Bleed Me Dry
651 words
The night brought more headache than a meeting with his editor warranted. Closing his eyes, the blonde writer leaned back against the door of his apartment, wishing underneath the pounding in his head that the world would rearrange itself to please him because there were some things that Yuki just did not want to see in his life. Shuichi surrounded by empty pixie stick tubes was one of those things.
It wasn’t just the god-awful, eardrum-damaging hyperactiveness he knew would follow, ten times worse than the pink-haired singer’s natural jubilance and inability to sit still; Yuki had discovered, albeit reluctantly, the ins and outs of Shindo Shuichi after two years of living together. Shuichi sent himself on sugar highs when he didn’t want to think about things, when he wanted to avoid the things that hurt.
His boyfriend didn’t drink, Yuki thought dryly, he fed himself sickening amounts of sugar.
God, he needed a smoke.
He turned around and considered his door, wondering if it would be sane (much less safe) to re-enter his apartment. Upon walking in and discovering Shuichi happily dumping sugar down his throat, Yuki had immediately turned right around and walked out, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t need this tonight.
Lighting a cigarette, apartment rules be damned, Yuki inhaled slowly, still eyeing the door warily.
Well, the brat had been there for him (even when he hadn’t wanted it). He supposed it was only fair to return the favor.
As he pressed open the door, cigarette still dangling from his mouth, he wondered what it would be this time.
“YUUUUUKIII!!” The loud, exuberant cry that greeted Yuki had him cringing. Maybe he needed to rethink this “sympathy” idea. Before he could leave again, though, a bundle of pink-haired bundle of energy pounced on him.
Wobbly eyes peered up at him adoringly. “OKAERI!” Shuichi cried, wrapping his arms around Yuki’s neck and attempting to bounce up and down at the same time.
Yuki could feel his temples throbbing. “Get off me,” he ordered.
Shuichi complied, but only because he was too hyped to remain still for long. “Guess what Yuki?” he exclaimed, hopping around excitedly. “Guess what guess what?! Hiro has to wear a dress tomorrow! K is going to make him! Heehee, we should take pictures! Where’s the camera, Yuki? I looked for it but I couldn’t find it and I promise I’ll take good care of it pleeease let me bring it tomorrow?” The puppy dog eyes were turned full force on him again.
He had no idea what that idiot was talking about and he was fairly sure he didn’t want to know. “No,” he said shortly, feeling his migraine sink its claws into his brain and settle down for a good, long stay.
“B-b-but—PLEEEAAAAASSE?!”
Yuki dropped down onto the sofa, staring in disgust at the pixie stick wrappers littering the floor in front of it. He tilted his head back and took a long drag on his cigarette. He was such a masochist, he thought, grimacing. Obviously, two years of living with the pink-haired brat had made him insane. Had he thought to offer sympathy? With Shuichi in this state of mind?
“Yuuuki~” his boyfriend whined.
“Fine!” he growled, twitching. “Just shut the fuck up already.”
Shuichi, exulted at Yuki’s relenting, leaped up and clattered around the apartment, making noise that was probably illegal at that time of the night. Yuki was sure he’d have more complaints from the neighbors tomorrow.
Well fuck them, he thought irritably, and crossed his ankles over the piles of pixie stick wrappers. He’d talk to Shuichi tomorrow, after the insanity had passed, and find out what was wrong. But now he knew better than to offer sympathy. Yuki grimaced. The idiot would just have to settle for someone willing to listen.
He ran a hand through his hair and willed his head to stop pounding.
--
Posted: 04.12.2005
--
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gravitation.
Note: I didn’t expect it to turn out this long, especially since I couldn’t get my Gravi-muses (I have Gravi-muses?) to work on
aka_anonymous’s original Gravi request. v_v;; Hmm, the muses are fickle creatures…
I know the ending seems a bit abrupt and everything is sort of unresolved at the end, but I meant for it to be that way. The focus is on Yuki’s approach to the crisis, not the actual crisis itself.
Oh yeah. First Gravitation fic/drabble/thing ever. o.O;; This drabble request thing is really requiring me to branch out.
For:
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Yuki/Shuichi
Rating: PG
Line: There were some things Yuki just did not want to see in his life. Shuichi surrounded by empty pixie stick tubes was one of those things.
Bleed Me Dry
651 words
The night brought more headache than a meeting with his editor warranted. Closing his eyes, the blonde writer leaned back against the door of his apartment, wishing underneath the pounding in his head that the world would rearrange itself to please him because there were some things that Yuki just did not want to see in his life. Shuichi surrounded by empty pixie stick tubes was one of those things.
It wasn’t just the god-awful, eardrum-damaging hyperactiveness he knew would follow, ten times worse than the pink-haired singer’s natural jubilance and inability to sit still; Yuki had discovered, albeit reluctantly, the ins and outs of Shindo Shuichi after two years of living together. Shuichi sent himself on sugar highs when he didn’t want to think about things, when he wanted to avoid the things that hurt.
His boyfriend didn’t drink, Yuki thought dryly, he fed himself sickening amounts of sugar.
God, he needed a smoke.
He turned around and considered his door, wondering if it would be sane (much less safe) to re-enter his apartment. Upon walking in and discovering Shuichi happily dumping sugar down his throat, Yuki had immediately turned right around and walked out, slamming the door behind him. He didn’t need this tonight.
Lighting a cigarette, apartment rules be damned, Yuki inhaled slowly, still eyeing the door warily.
Well, the brat had been there for him (even when he hadn’t wanted it). He supposed it was only fair to return the favor.
As he pressed open the door, cigarette still dangling from his mouth, he wondered what it would be this time.
“YUUUUUKIII!!” The loud, exuberant cry that greeted Yuki had him cringing. Maybe he needed to rethink this “sympathy” idea. Before he could leave again, though, a bundle of pink-haired bundle of energy pounced on him.
Wobbly eyes peered up at him adoringly. “OKAERI!” Shuichi cried, wrapping his arms around Yuki’s neck and attempting to bounce up and down at the same time.
Yuki could feel his temples throbbing. “Get off me,” he ordered.
Shuichi complied, but only because he was too hyped to remain still for long. “Guess what Yuki?” he exclaimed, hopping around excitedly. “Guess what guess what?! Hiro has to wear a dress tomorrow! K is going to make him! Heehee, we should take pictures! Where’s the camera, Yuki? I looked for it but I couldn’t find it and I promise I’ll take good care of it pleeease let me bring it tomorrow?” The puppy dog eyes were turned full force on him again.
He had no idea what that idiot was talking about and he was fairly sure he didn’t want to know. “No,” he said shortly, feeling his migraine sink its claws into his brain and settle down for a good, long stay.
“B-b-but—PLEEEAAAAASSE?!”
Yuki dropped down onto the sofa, staring in disgust at the pixie stick wrappers littering the floor in front of it. He tilted his head back and took a long drag on his cigarette. He was such a masochist, he thought, grimacing. Obviously, two years of living with the pink-haired brat had made him insane. Had he thought to offer sympathy? With Shuichi in this state of mind?
“Yuuuki~” his boyfriend whined.
“Fine!” he growled, twitching. “Just shut the fuck up already.”
Shuichi, exulted at Yuki’s relenting, leaped up and clattered around the apartment, making noise that was probably illegal at that time of the night. Yuki was sure he’d have more complaints from the neighbors tomorrow.
Well fuck them, he thought irritably, and crossed his ankles over the piles of pixie stick wrappers. He’d talk to Shuichi tomorrow, after the insanity had passed, and find out what was wrong. But now he knew better than to offer sympathy. Yuki grimaced. The idiot would just have to settle for someone willing to listen.
He ran a hand through his hair and willed his head to stop pounding.
--
Posted: 04.12.2005
--
Disclaimer: I don’t own Gravitation.
Note: I didn’t expect it to turn out this long, especially since I couldn’t get my Gravi-muses (I have Gravi-muses?) to work on
I know the ending seems a bit abrupt and everything is sort of unresolved at the end, but I meant for it to be that way. The focus is on Yuki’s approach to the crisis, not the actual crisis itself.
Oh yeah. First Gravitation fic/drabble/thing ever. o.O;; This drabble request thing is really requiring me to branch out.