[Gravi] Barricade, PG, Humor, Yuki/Shuichi

[meiface.livejournal.com]

Emi's birthday.
08.12.2005


I recently read Gravi 12, in which they disbanded Nittle Grasper. But I'm writing from the anime, so let's just go with it, shall we?

12. barricade; Yuki/Shuichi, gravitation, pg
The older Yuki got, the more he hated birthdays. Not because he was aging, but rather because he seemed surrounded by idiots intent on making the biggest, most ridiculous fuss possible about celebrating the fact that he had a year less to live.

He was twenty-five today and he was unplugging every phone and locking himself in his apartment. Shuichi was on tour and Yuki would be damned if he let either of his siblings or their maniacal friends drag him out, even for a couple of drinks (though he was almost positive they wouldn’t just stop there, knowing them). He was going to have a quiet birthday alone, thank you very much, in the company of a couple of beers, his cigarettes, and his laptop. Maybe he’d actually manage to get some work done this year as he hadn’t been able to manage on his birthday for the past, oh, twenty-four years. (Not that he’d really had any work during those first nineteen or twenty years but that was beside the point.)

He locked himself in around four-thirty and worked until seven-thirty. Someone had come pounding on the door around six but Yuki had learned his lesson from past experiences with his siblings and had reinforced the door with three dead bolts, besides the standard chain lock. He worked right through the disturbance, smirking a bit around his cigarette.

When he finally took a stretch break, two beers and five cigarettes later, he glanced at the clock and grimaced. He probably ought to eat something. He had a physical next week and God knew what his doctor would do to him if he didn’t take care of himself—to say nothing of what Shuichi would do if he found the results of a bad physical, which he always somehow did. Yuki was convinced that the brat had Yuki's doctor fax him the results every time, never mind that the records were supposed to be private. He probably had K threaten the poor man.

Yuki rolled his eyes and heated up the leftovers from the last time he’d bothered to cook. That’d been—he thought back—two days ago. Whatever. The food was probably still okay. At least he was eating, right? No complaints from that quarter.

As he waited for the microwave, Yuki remembered that Bad Luck would be on TV tonight. At eight, exactly, Shuichi had screeched at him over and over again. “You’d better watch it, okay, Yuki? You better! I’ll know if you don’t!” He’d even plastered the entire apartment with sticky notes with reminders. Yuki had torn them all down the day Shuichi left, growling under his breath about pink-haired idiots. But all the same, he supposed he owed it to his lover to watch the damned concert.

Plate in hand, Yuki settled onto the couch in front of the TV and watched the last ten minutes of a game show before the Live Performance of Bad Luck in ___ aired. The announcer was a peppy young woman, clearly inexperienced and clearly thrilled to be there. Yuki thought wryly that she was lucky she wasn’t at a Nittle Grasper concert; Seguchi ate girls like her for breakfast.

As the concert began, Yuki had to grudgingly admit that Shuichi was doing well. His vocals were perfect and his boundless energy was finally put to good use as he brought the arena of screaming fans to a new high. Nakano and that other guy, the keyboardist, whose name Yuki had never bothered to remember, were doing well too. They were good, Yuki acknowledged, a faint smile on his lips. But he’d known that, despite constantly ragging on Shuichi for his grating voice.

Then in the middle of the show, Shuichi stopped.

Yuki got a sinking feeling in his stomach when the pink-haired brat beamed at the camera.

“Today’s a special day,” he announced, “so I just wanna take a moment to say—“ His eyes brightened as he raised his voice, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUUUKI~!! I LOVE YOU!!”

There was a deafening roar in response from the audience.

Yuki stared at the screen in disbelief. He was going to kill that moron. On the television, Shuichi winked and blew a kiss. Slowly, Yuki promised.

--

It’s strangely fun to write Yuki. Oh god. I blame ninjatrauma for this. And that ___ is intentional, sorry.