I wrote this specially for photoash's birthday, so this is for her.
I always liked my Eiri a little less mean, a little more (grudgingly) loving, yet still retaining the bite. I always liked my Shuichi a little smarter, with more (or less depending on how you see it, he is a drama queen after all) feeling, and just a little more matured, but no less sweet. So I apologise if you find their personalities a little different than you would have liked.
Two Christmases ago, Shuichi had spent it with the fans, in a sell-out final leg concert at the Tokyo Dome. At exactly midnight, the darkness of the sky was wiped out with magnificent explosions of blue, green and red, and Shuichi had never felt more at home, even though home was essentially five thousand miles away, as Yuki had to travel back to America for some book signing event.
Last year, he had spent Christmas with Hiro, who had broken up with Ayaka two days prior, and did not see any reason to play the guitar or glam himself up in shiny red coats any longer. Shuichi had to remind him, even if it took canceling a romantic dinner (romantic dinners with Yuki meant steak cooked medium rare, the finest red wine the restaurant had to offer, or a vintage Yuki had pillaged out of his collection, and sex on the dining table as desert, although they had to make do with double chocolate cake in public places) with Yuki. Purely out of spite, Yuki had taken off without telling Shuichi where he was going. Shuichi had figured it could wait even though he wanted to run after Yuki and tell him he was sorry. Some things were more important, after all. At exactly midnight on Christmas eve, Hiro had kissed Shuichi very gently on his forehead, and told him he was the bestest friend ever, and they had stayed up all night, watching the sun rise in beautiful hues of orange, red and yellow on the park bench.
He had made absolutely sure this year was reserved for Yuki and Yuki only. He had found Hiro a girlfriend three weeks before Christmas, so there was plenty of time for them to get to know each other, and not nearly enough time to develop fuel for enormous blow ups. He had bribed K with lots and lots of promises to write enough songs for three albums by the end of January to stop him from booking Bad Luck for any Christmas-related events.
He had not counted on Yuki having other plans.
"Why are you upset?" Yuki asked irritably, packing his well-pressed shirts into his Louis Vuitton luggage. As much as he hated to admit it, Yuki had enormously high standards. He would never be caught dead in a normal t-shirt except perhaps, during Hallowe'en, when Shuichi had attended the company party in drag, and Yuki had put on Bermudas and a striped 'T' and went as "a person on a street". More people were shocked at Yuki's costume than seeing Shuichi as a woman.
Yuki refused to look at Shuichi, who was staring at him with pleading eyes and a pout on his face.
"But you can't go, Yuki. We have to spend Christmas together!" Shuichi protested.
"So says the person who ditched me the last two Christmases. I figured you would have something planned this year as well so I took the liberty of relieving your guilt by accepting a trip to the U.S with Tohma and Mika." He was still pointedly not looking at him as he moved from the bed to the closet, and emerged with a few expensive ties slung around his neck.
As hard as he tried, he couldn't keep the disappointment from creeping into his face. "Maybe I could go with you?" He tried again, hopefully.
Only to have Yuki shaking his head as he rolled up the ties and put them beside the shirts and saying, "The tickets have been long issued and bought. As far as I know, there aren't any seats left."
Shuichi didn't say anything. You don't want me with you when you visit Kitazawa's grave, was what he thought but he didn't want to bear the consequences if he voiced it out aloud so he kept silent, watching Yuki pack. He had not questioned Yuki either when he came back two years ago from his book signing event, morose and irritable, claiming it to be jet lag. Yuki didn't know either that Shuichi was well aware of the extra sessions he had booked with his counselor. It had worried Shuichi to death, but there was nothing he could do because if Yuki knew that Shuichi knew, there would have been an even bigger fallout than being hurt that Yuki wasn't telling him anything.
"Don't you have any plans?" Yuki asked finally, eyeing Shuichi warily, as if expecting him to break out in tears at any moment. The question hung heavily in the air for a while.
"I thought we could spend this Christmas together," he finally answered, if a little petulantly.
Yuki sighed exasperatedly, running his fingers through his blond hair, before putting his hands on his hips. "Somehow, this is my fault," he said with a tinge of sarcasm. "It's not my fault if I don't want to spend Christmas nursing a bottle of red wine like some sick wife waiting for her husband to come home, who by the way, is too busy fucking someone else on Christmas eve."
Shuichi stood up indignantly. "I am not fucking anyone else! And you did not ever spend Christmas alone. Last year, you spent it with another woman!" He did, with a hot blonde with blue eyes, and a killer dress. Shuichi found out about it in the newspapers, in the entertainment section. Even though Yuki had said he didn't do anything with her, Shuichi wasn't quite sure he believed it. Then again, he didn't want to know.
Yuki rolled his eyes. "I was pointing out an example. And what did you expect me to do, stay home and mope?"
"Well, that would have been nice," Shuichi sniffed.
Yuki glared at him, and then softened a little when Shuichi picked at the shirts, trying to smoothen down a crease, and trying not to look upset. "Look," he said, taking Shuichi's hand away and rubbing his palm with the pad of his thumb. Somehow, it was oddly comforting. "I'll be back by New Year's eve. It's just for a few days."
He gave in. "Fine, but I'm not getting you a present," he said sulkily. He already did, an obscenely expensive notebook that Yuki had had his eye on the past month but was out of stock. Of course it was, Shuichi had bought the very last one. It was nicely wrapped in a padded box (in case Yuki happened to stumble upon it or the cat decided to play with it or it somehow magically decided to walk itself to the window and hurl itself down to the pavement below), and was sitting at the very back of the shoe closet.
"That's fine," Yuki answered him. "Because I didn't get anything for you either." He smirked at Shuichi's dismayed face and zipped up his bag with one efficient gesture. "Time to go."
The gears in Shuichi's brain started turning. In his heart, he prayed frantically for hail, or a hurricane to land right smack in Narita Airport so the planes would all be delayed. The part of his brain that was still capable of calculating two plus two is four correctly however, searched for ways that may stall Yuki. "Hiro's got a new girlfriend, Yuki."
Yuki raised an eyebrow while pulling his luggage out of the bedroom. Shuichi followed in his wake. "And I care because…" He turned off the light with a flick of his finger. Shuichi hurried, trying to keep up pace.
"So he'll be spending Christmas with her!" He watched helplessly as Yuki took his car keys and pocketed it while at the same time, reaching for his passport in the drawer with his other hand.
"Good, so he'll have someone to sing Christmas carols to," Yuki deadpanned, slamming the drawer shut. He patted his trouser pockets and then his shirt. "Where's my cell?"
Shuichi pointed feebly towards the coffee table.
"Yuki," he whined as Yuki dropped everything by the kitchen counter, and fetched his cell phone. He gave the cat an affectionate ruffle on her head who then purred back sleepily at him. She had been sleeping under the table the whole morning, and the night before.
"Remember to feed the cat," he said.
Shuichi immediately stuck out his lower lip. He had been shoved aside for the cat. Clearly, he didn't occupy as big a space as she did in Yuki's heart. He would have to call the pet adoption centre soon, he thought a little meanly.
"Okay," he sighed. Clearly, what Yuki wanted, Yuki got. "Have fun. Have a great Christmas. Maybe," he gestured brightly with his hands – Yuki's eyes narrowed suspiciously at this- "you could even score yourself another chick on Christmas eve!"
"Shut up you." Yuki rolled his eyes again, and walked up to Shuichi, who was now hunched, sitting in the dining chair, and had his chin on the table. He bent, and gave Shuichi a light kiss on the top of his head. Shuichi could smell his Polo Black cologne, and arousing as it was, he looked up, and at Yuki expectantly. There was a little smile playing at Yuki's lips then, and he obliged, planting a deeper kiss on Shuichi's mouth.
It lasted shorter than he had hoped, for Yuki was soon straightening himself again, and walking to the entrance.
"Bye, Shuichi," Yuki mumbled, dragging his luggage behind him, passport in mouth and keys in hand. He slammed the door shut when Shuichi opened his mouth to try a last resort attempt to get Yuki to stay.
Three days before Christmas and Shuichi was wandering around Sunshine City, one of Tokyo's oldest shopping malls, surrounded by a myriad of colour, sights and sounds. The Christmas carols were driving him nuts though. He was beginning to feel more like the Grinch he always thought Yuki was.
Yeah right. Merry fucking Christmas, he thought sourly when a punk in eyeliner, spiky hair, and an artfully-tattered Santa suit wished him. He smiled though, not willing to erode his genki, happy, cheery image. Not that the guy recognized him anyway, he had on his cap and sunnies and a metre long of scarf.
His mood did not have an opportunity to fester, because a bunch of buskers he passed by called out to him. One of them was Gou, someone he knew from NG productions. He was a guitar player in a band whose name escaped Shuichi, but he had seen him around enough times to know his name. "Wanna join us?" he asked, nodding towards the microphone. They had a singer, but the guy insisted on handling the tambourines and passed the microphone to Shuichi.
It felt good, and different, singing to random strangers on a street. A different kind of good. He made himself remember to try it one day, with the band, singing to a bunch of shoppers.
Two days before Christmas, Shuichi spent it getting drunk at a ramen stand, muttering unintelligible things to the uncle manning the stall.
To his credit though, the man acted like he was listening, nodding and saying soothing things at appropriate intervals. He probably didn't give a damn whether or not Yuki was evil and totally mean and being a prick for leaving him like that but at least he was agreeing with Shuichi. "Yes, yes, he's a jerk," he said sympathetically, pushing more mugs of beer towards Shuichi.
After that, he had given Shuichi a big helping of noodles, possibly to shut him up, Shuichi thought. But it was hot, and warmed his belly, so he was thankful, and slurped it up even though it burnt his tongue.
On Christmas eve, Shuichi whined and moped and cajoled until the band agreed to show up at Sunshine City. Hiro had been concerned even though Shuichi had told him that everything was fine and he had no reason to be acting all motherly and yes, yes, Yuki was waiting for him at home with a nice bottle of wine and something he had packed from the restaurant.
Suguru was bitchy though, and said through gritted teeth that he didn't know why the fuck he ever stayed in the band with such a ditzy, random, idiot for its singer. Shuichi ignored him, and playing to a sell-out crowd on a street outside a pedestrian mall did lift his spirits for a while, and gave him a high that removed thoughts of Yuki to the farthest corner of his mind.
It came back soon enough, after everyone had taken their leave; Hiro left with his new girlfriend, who was hanging back by the crowd, her face radiant and happy, and she had jumped into Hiro's arms with a laugh and a hug. Hiro did turn around, concern clearly written on his face, but Shuichi had shooed him off with a happy smile fixed on his face, he had waved at them extra frantically so that Hiro would see that yes, he really was happy.
He then waited for a taxi at the curb, shifting his weight back and forth between his legs. A few people stopped by for an autograph, and he kindly obliged. Some perverts asked him whether he would spend the night celebrating with the esteemed Yuki Eiri, and he had forced a laugh, trying not to sound so damned miserable. When they left, Shuichi felt small, and irritable. He peered at his watch, and then realized that it was only ten o'clock. Two hours to go. He sighed.
Reaching home, he thanked the cab driver, gave him an extra large tip, and wished him a very merry Christmas. The driver was ecstatic, and told Shuichi that with the money he had given him, he had reached his quota of the day and could go home early to spend Christmas with his daughter. Shuichi had smiled then, glad he could make someone's day even though his would be utterly horrible.
"I'm home," he called out as he let himself into the house, saying it more out of habit then anything. The cat purred in response, and eyed him warily from where she was; still under the table. Shuichi shook his head. "You're almost as lazy as he is when the both of you want to be," he muttered.
He was alone, finally, save for the cat, and had all the time to himself to mope and feel sorry for himself.
He knew why Yuki had to go to New York, he just didn't see the point of it. Why go, if all he was going to do was to make himself miserable? It wasn't as if Kitazawa was ever going to be alive. Shuichi frowned. He felt bad just thinking it, like a spoilt little child, but he didn't like how Kitazawa still had a hold over Yuki's heart even though he was long gone.
He couldn't possibly win against Kitazawa. He was whiney, noisy, hyper, perky and everything that Yuki detested in a person (Yuki told him so). He liked bright, sparkly things. He was stubborn a lot of the times and refused to see his mistakes until Yuki threw him out or shut him up with a kiss. He wasn't good in bed (Yuki told him so). He hung around Hiro far too much (Yuki said so too, although Shuichi was defiantly protective over this topic. Hiro was, and would always be his best friend and therefore deserved a big chunk of his time and love).
What the heck did Yuki see in him to keep him around for three years?
Shuichi pouted again, even though there was only the cat to see.
The digital clock in the living room said it was 11.45. Only fifteen minutes left. He contemplated waiting till it struck twelve and sauntering out to the balcony to see the fireworks but decided that it was too much. He would mope, and he would mope in bed even though nobody cared.
Turning off all the lights, Shuichi dragged himself into the bedroom, slipped into bed and hugged the pillow that Yuki always slept on.
He wasn't asleep for very long, barely on the border of a dream and consumed by self-pitying thoughts. But he thought to himself that he must be dreaming, because he felt someone caress his hair very gently, exactly how Yuki would do it after every time they had sex.
He opened his eyes hazily, and peered into Yuki's golden ones. Then, they widened in shock and squeak came out of his mouth. "Yuki?"
Yuki smiled, still looking very composed, and every inch the arrogant prick they called him in gossip rags and on the internet. "Merry Christmas," he said, grinning.
Shuichi scrabbled to his feet, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Yuki looked tired, a bit sad even, after the initial cockiness, and Shuichi knew what he had been doing. Still, what was he doing back? "Why are you here?" he asked dumbly, reaching out to brush Yuki's cheek. It was cold.
"Well," Yuki said hesitantly. He leaned into Shuichi's touch. "I was thinking."
Even in the dark, Shuichi could make out the expression on Yuki's face. It tugged at his heart, seeing Yuki sad and slightly distant. A pissy Yuki was always much, much better than a somber Yuki, he always thought. That was what he also told himself each time they had a big argument.
"And I thought that some things are more important. So," he paused, looking away for a moment before turning back and staring at Shuichi straight in the eye. "So I came back."
Shuichi smiled then, a real genuine smile, and before he could tell Yuki what he thought, tell him that he loved him, and how he missed him, Yuki silenced the words with a gentle kiss on his lips.