Disclaimer: Gravitation is not mine. I own no piece of it. But I do
have every intention of writing crazy stories involving it's characters. :D
Crayon Maps
A Ryuichi x Hiro fic
Chapter One - "Red"
***************
The small studio room was darkened, but the faint sound of a guitar being played hummed through it's door as if a swarm of bees had taken it as their new home. That sound was the only indicator that the room held an occupant, and an irritated occupant, at that. Hiroshi Nakano sat on a stool strumming his guitar, cursing all the while.
"Dammit," he groaned, tossing another piece of paper into the waste basket. The guitarist for the rising band Bad Luck let out a long sigh. He had been at the studio for hours attempting to work out the chords for the band's newest song, but nothing he tried was worth the time. He let his fingers tackle the strings once again, but after a painstaking minute he nearly threw his guitar down in frustration.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit," he spoke softly, glad that no one was around to watch him suffer at the thing he (supposedly) does best.
Another sigh escaped his lips. "Nothing's working out tonight."
Hiro stared momentarily at the bare wall ahead of him. Couldn't they put something up to cover the dull grey paint job? Some plaques? A Bad Luck poster?
"I have to get out of here," he mumbled inwardly, "the sight of this place is starting to drive me crazy too." He paused and frowned as a new thought occurred to him. "And to think I have to come back tomorrow."
Mentally still trying to work out which strings to play and when, Hiro packed the guitar snugly in its case, slung it over his back and stepped out the door. The light of the hallway was painfully bright to someone who had just spent the last few hours in darkness, but the slender boy didn't stop. He just wanted to lock his guitar away and forget about it. "Tonight," he thought for a moment, "will be a well deserved, peaceful night."
Having stuffed the instrument in it's designated area, Hiro stepped lightly down the empty hallway partly relieved that he was free of the day's torment, and partly annoyed, since the torment kept on going in his mind. "Stupid fingers don't want to play the right chords," he said, openly lying to himself. He walked in a thoughtful daze.
Until, that is, his mind became aware of a disturbance in the peace. The hallways were empty and quiet, yes, but the room his body had stopped beside was lit, and a voice came from within. Someone was. humming?
Hiro poked his head in.
"Sakuma-san?" The guitarist was surprised to see Ryuichi Sakuma, the famed Nittle Grasper singer cross-legged on the wooden floor of the room colouring.
The young looking man looked up with two sparkling eyes. "Nakano-san!" he grinned.
Hiro nodded a hello and stepped into the room.
"Ryuichi, why are you here so late?" he asked, rather certain that the singer hadn't stayed late to colour pretty pictures.
The man looked up. "I was about to ask you the same thing, Hiro," was the reply.
The long haired boy rubbed his neck. "I stayed late trying to work on the new song Shuichi wrote." He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
Ryuichi blinked. "I take it things weren't going so well, then."
The look on Hiro's face gave Ryuichi his answer.
The chibi sized Ryuichi with large round eyes and pink cheeks nodded in understanding. "Do you wanna colour with Ryuichi? It's lots of fun to make things shiny, and I have lots of pretty crayons. It might make you feel better."
Hiro raised an eyebrow. He didn't want to colour, but he did appreciate the offer. "Um, thanks but no thanks."
Although the guitarist knew the bandana wearing singer, he had never really spoken with him. Shuichi had always been present when Ryuichi was around, and the two got along so well that the auburn haired boy never felt the need to intervene. In Hiro's eyes Ryuichi Sakuma was still the untouchable idol, and looking at the small man in front of him now, he was nearly speechless.
"Ryuichi," he finally gathered enough nerve to break the silence, "you didn't stay late just to colour did you?"
Ryuichi stopped colouring for a moment and spoke. "No, Tohma and I stayed late working on songs too, and Seguchi-san was supposed to give Ryuichi a ride home, but something happened and he had to leave, and then he called me and told me he'd be late, and I was still waiting, and, and, and." He took a deep breath as he spat out the mouthful of words, during which the singer's eyes had gone from being two perky and pleasant ones to being two, tear filled orbs. Hiro was sure they would burst any minute and cascade waterfalls down his cheeks. ".And Ryuichi told Tohma that he would stay here tonight so Tohma doesn't have to worry."
Hiro broke his thoughts and looked up. "You're planning to stay here tonight?" A confused look crossed his face. What kind of person would want to sleep at the studio? It probably wasn't unheard of, but after the kind of day Hiro had, he was only too eager to leave.
Ryuichi nodded. "I have a futon right here, and lots of sketch pads and crayons. It's not so bad," he smiled.
The look on Hiro's face was still that of mild confusion. He hesitated for a moment, not quite sure what he should do, but spoke soon after. "I can give you a ride home if you." He couldn't finish.
"HIIIIIIIRRROOOOOOOO!" Ryuichi had clung to him. "Thank you thank you thank you!"
"I'll take that as a yes then."
Ryuichi nodded happily. "I'll call Tohma and tell him not to worry," he said, already dialling the numbers on his cell.
The call was a quick one, and once the call was complete, Ryuichi's oversized eyes met Hiro's as if they were begging to leave.
Hiro paused. The two of them couldn't leave just yet because an important piece of information had yet to reach Hiro's hands.
"Umm. Ryuichi," he spoke, "how do I get to your place?"
The singer gasped. He had forgotten that Hiro didn't know the way to his house. "Ahh," he said, pulling out his sketch pad and crayons once again, "I'll draw you a map!"
Sitting once again on the floor, Ryuichi hummed and sang quietly as he scrawled something on a piece of paper. Completing it, he handed it to Hiro and pointed to the arrow that graced the map's centre. "This is Ryuichi's house!"
Hiro looked at the map which had been so hastily drawn with a bright red crayon.. There were no street names on it, only lines to indicate streets, and the arrow showing Ryuichi's house. Ultimately the thing was useless.
"Ryuichi," he began, followed by a deep breath. "I don't suppose you could draw something a little bit.," he paused trying to think of a tactful word which wouldn't hurt his friend's feelings. "More useful?"
The bandana wearing singer looked down. "Well, I kinda don't know how to get there from here. It's a new house and all." he trailed off, a hint of sadness and embarrassment in his voice.
Suddenly Hiro was ashamed he had even asked. So, hoping to lift the man's spirits, he made an offer which could not be refused.
"You can stay at my place tonight, if you like. At least it's more comfortable than the studio."
Ryuichi's eyes lit up.
***************
The night air was cool and damp against the flesh and Hiro shuddered as he felt some drops of rain hit hard against his bare hands. Driving a motorcycle when the clouds unleashed their wet droplets wasn't the most pleasant of things, especially after such a bad night. As well, he had an unexpected passenger. If he didn't go any faster, Ryuichi would soon regret agreeing to spend the night at the younger boy's apartment, when he could have stayed in the relative warmth of the studio. For now though, the Nittle Grasper singer clung to Hiro's waist as he drove down the poorly lit side streets of the city.
Hiro couldn't help but think about the arms tied around body. Even at a time like this, when the night was unpleasant and the cool air numbed the skin of his hands and face, Hiro smiled an unseen smile. This happened when Shuichi rode with him on his bike too. The small arms wrapped tightly around the driver, the feeling of another body behind him, warming him, reassuring him. He sighed. Hiro had always loved it when Shuichi asked him to drive somewhere, and Hiro quietly enjoyed every minute that the small boy held him. Of course he never did say anything about it, but it didn't matter now. His deeper feelings for Shuichi had to be thrown aside when the pink haired one had met Yuki.
And now, two arms held him tightly once again.
He drove down the streets, half paying attention to the roads, and half wishing that those arms would hold him forever. It was pure luck that he had looked up and saw the street he lived on. If he hadn't he would have passed it completely.
Turning now, the two boys came to a small apartment building. Hiro slowly drove into the parking lot and secured his bike as Ryuichi stepped off onto solid ground behind him.
"That was fun Hiro! I've never been on a motorcycle before, can we go again sometime?" A perky Ryuichi bounced.
Hiro nodded at the words, not entirely aware of what had been spoken, since his mind was drifting, wishing that a couple of warm hands would hold him willingly, rather than just for balance on a motorcycle.
The rain had started to fall harder now, so the two young men ran towards the doorway, and it wasn't long before they were in Hiro's small apartment, shivering.
Hiro flicked the light switch, thankful that the place wasn't too much of a mess. He seldom had guests, and Lord knows it's a rare chance to have Ryuichi Sakuma, huge pop idol, in your living room. The last thing Hiro wanted to do was scare him off with piles of unwashed laundry, scattered books, and several mounds of dirty dishes. Pleased with the relative tidiness after scanning the room for anything incriminating, the barely audible sound of chattering teeth came from behind him.
"Oh! Ryuichi, I'll get you a towel to dry off," he paused giving a sideways glance to the shivering mess beside him. "And I'll find you a change of clothes to sleep in. Although," he thought for a moment, "I'm not sure if I have a whole lot that will fit you."
The smaller one nodded in appreciation and followed the tall boy to the bathroom where he was promptly handed a towel. Immediately Ryuichi set to work drying his soaked mop of hair, and Hiro did the same until he felt a pair of blue eyes watching him. Doing his best not to blush, Hiro glanced over at his companion. "Something wrong, Sakuma-san?" he asked.
"No!" The man smiled and kept drying.
Hiro shrugged it off. "I'm dreaming," he mumbled under his breath, not loud enough for Ryuichi to hear. A yawn escaped his lips and his eyes felt suddenly heavy. "I think I need to sleep," he muttered, throwing off his damp shirt. Hiro didn't notice his friend looking at him this time, or the slight curls that touched the corners of Ryuichi's lips. He was much too tired after a long day, and remembering himself now he realized that he couldn't just crawl into bed. He had a guest to take care of.
Almost as if he read the guitarist's mind, Ryuichi spoke. "Don't worry about me Hiro, I can sleep on the couch!" The other boy beamed. Hiro noticed Ryuichi had removed his red bandana. He looked so vulnerable without it.
Hiro frowned. "No guest of mine is sleeping on the couch. I'll let you have my bed, Ryuichi." He glared as his friend raised a hand in protest. Hiro shut his eyes and spoke once more. "I don't mind at all, just take my bed." Opening his eyes now to check for a reaction, he suddenly realized he had been speaking to a bunny. He raised an eyebrow.
"Kumagorou doesn't want to kick Hiro out of his own bed, so he and Ryuichi will take the couch."
Perhaps it was the hint of exhaustion in Hiro's mind, or perhaps it was his hidden desire to be a bit closer to his guest, but he wasn't willing to listen to any more protests. He grabbed the singer's small wrists and took a step forward.
Ryuichi found himself against the wall cowering. Hiro looked scary like this, that much couldn't be denied. The auburn haired guitarist was still gripping the small wrists, but not forcibly though, just tightly enough to shut Ryuichi up for a moment. Their eyes met as Hiro spoke once more. "This is the last time I'm going to say this. I will let you sleep in my bed tonight." he paused when he realized Ryuichi had a quirky smile plastered on his face.
Ryuichi spoke in a flirtatious tone, half serious and half kidding. "That sounds like an invitation, Hiro." His lips lingered on the name. Hiro. It fell off his tongue so smoothly, so seductively, that Hiro dropped the man's wrists and blushed at the words. Looking away now, Hiro changed the subject and strode out of the room, desperately trying to hide his red cheeks and mumbling something about clothes.
The idol smiled a crooked smile as he watched the younger boy struggle to maintain his cool composure. The grin grew wider when he realized that Hiro was failing miserably at doing so.
The flustered guitarist was shuffling through his dresser drawers in an attempt to find some dry clothes for the still damp star standing in his hallway. "Tee shirt, tee shirt," he muttered aloud. His fatigue had been forgotten but it had been replaced with a horrifying amount of butterflies, and each one seemed to be trying to force its way from his stomach and into the open air. After letting out a long sigh, the guitarist pulled a tee shirt and a pair of shorts from his dresser. He hesitated. Hiro didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid to look at Ryuichi again.
Ryuichi wasn't afraid to look at Hiro though. Something glimmered in the older man's eyes as he watched Hiro's frantic search for clothes. "Hiro," he began, "are you feeling okay? You seem flushed."
Hiro didn't look up.
Taking several steps into the bedroom now, Ryuichi approached the shirtless boy in front of him and kneeled down. "Hiro?"
Once again the sound of his name being spoken through Ryuichi Sakuma's lips, those perfect lips which sang the best songs Hiro had ever known, those lips which were so close to his own, had turned his cheeks a lovely shade of pink.
Another sly grin on Ryuichi's behalf. "I see." He spoke in a steady voice. "Hiro has a severe case of blushing when he's around Ryuichi. Maybe Hiro should be looked at." The blue eyes were dancing in the light.
Hiro shook his head in disbelief. This wasn't happening. It was a dream.
"No, no I don't need to be looked at." He stood up, raised his head, and without looking at the man kneeling beside him, walked out of the room.
******************
Ryuichi sat on Hiro's bed with a familiar fuzzy bunny looking at him with two button eyes. Things hadn't turned out quite the way he had expected, and now he might be paying the price. Hiro hadn't said a word to the singer since the mishap, and Ryuichi was too afraid to leave the solitude of the bedroom just to find out that his friend was angry with him.
"Maybe I was wrong to think Nakano-san liked me, Kumagorou. Or was it my approach? I am rusty. I haven't liked anyone this much in years, and now that I finally get the courage to talk to the guy, he runs away." He frowned as his constant companion stared on.
"But Hiro is strong, isn't he Kumagorou," his eyes became starry as he fantasized. "He's such a good friend to Shuichi, and he plays the guitar, which is SOOO COOL, and he's very good at it. He probably won't be happy that Ryuichi and Kumagorou listened to him play tonight. Even though the song sounded great, Hiro wasn't satisfied. " The fantasy bubble Ryuichi was floating in popped, and two blue eyes filled with watery tears. "But if he's such a perfectionist then he wouldn't like someone like me. He needs someone who is perfect too." His words trailed off. Feeling like his heart had leapt off a building, the singer took in a long breath and leaned back. Maybe I should go home Kumagorou, I'm just making Hiro uncomfortable."
He lay on Hiro's bed now holding the small pink bunny, closed his eyes, and, without even meaning to, fell into a quiet slumber.
***************
Umm.wow. I was expecting a story with nothing but smut, and out comes something with what appears to be a *small* dose of plot. Go figure.
Crayon Maps
A Ryuichi x Hiro fic
Chapter One - "Red"
***************
The small studio room was darkened, but the faint sound of a guitar being played hummed through it's door as if a swarm of bees had taken it as their new home. That sound was the only indicator that the room held an occupant, and an irritated occupant, at that. Hiroshi Nakano sat on a stool strumming his guitar, cursing all the while.
"Dammit," he groaned, tossing another piece of paper into the waste basket. The guitarist for the rising band Bad Luck let out a long sigh. He had been at the studio for hours attempting to work out the chords for the band's newest song, but nothing he tried was worth the time. He let his fingers tackle the strings once again, but after a painstaking minute he nearly threw his guitar down in frustration.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit," he spoke softly, glad that no one was around to watch him suffer at the thing he (supposedly) does best.
Another sigh escaped his lips. "Nothing's working out tonight."
Hiro stared momentarily at the bare wall ahead of him. Couldn't they put something up to cover the dull grey paint job? Some plaques? A Bad Luck poster?
"I have to get out of here," he mumbled inwardly, "the sight of this place is starting to drive me crazy too." He paused and frowned as a new thought occurred to him. "And to think I have to come back tomorrow."
Mentally still trying to work out which strings to play and when, Hiro packed the guitar snugly in its case, slung it over his back and stepped out the door. The light of the hallway was painfully bright to someone who had just spent the last few hours in darkness, but the slender boy didn't stop. He just wanted to lock his guitar away and forget about it. "Tonight," he thought for a moment, "will be a well deserved, peaceful night."
Having stuffed the instrument in it's designated area, Hiro stepped lightly down the empty hallway partly relieved that he was free of the day's torment, and partly annoyed, since the torment kept on going in his mind. "Stupid fingers don't want to play the right chords," he said, openly lying to himself. He walked in a thoughtful daze.
Until, that is, his mind became aware of a disturbance in the peace. The hallways were empty and quiet, yes, but the room his body had stopped beside was lit, and a voice came from within. Someone was. humming?
Hiro poked his head in.
"Sakuma-san?" The guitarist was surprised to see Ryuichi Sakuma, the famed Nittle Grasper singer cross-legged on the wooden floor of the room colouring.
The young looking man looked up with two sparkling eyes. "Nakano-san!" he grinned.
Hiro nodded a hello and stepped into the room.
"Ryuichi, why are you here so late?" he asked, rather certain that the singer hadn't stayed late to colour pretty pictures.
The man looked up. "I was about to ask you the same thing, Hiro," was the reply.
The long haired boy rubbed his neck. "I stayed late trying to work on the new song Shuichi wrote." He sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
Ryuichi blinked. "I take it things weren't going so well, then."
The look on Hiro's face gave Ryuichi his answer.
The chibi sized Ryuichi with large round eyes and pink cheeks nodded in understanding. "Do you wanna colour with Ryuichi? It's lots of fun to make things shiny, and I have lots of pretty crayons. It might make you feel better."
Hiro raised an eyebrow. He didn't want to colour, but he did appreciate the offer. "Um, thanks but no thanks."
Although the guitarist knew the bandana wearing singer, he had never really spoken with him. Shuichi had always been present when Ryuichi was around, and the two got along so well that the auburn haired boy never felt the need to intervene. In Hiro's eyes Ryuichi Sakuma was still the untouchable idol, and looking at the small man in front of him now, he was nearly speechless.
"Ryuichi," he finally gathered enough nerve to break the silence, "you didn't stay late just to colour did you?"
Ryuichi stopped colouring for a moment and spoke. "No, Tohma and I stayed late working on songs too, and Seguchi-san was supposed to give Ryuichi a ride home, but something happened and he had to leave, and then he called me and told me he'd be late, and I was still waiting, and, and, and." He took a deep breath as he spat out the mouthful of words, during which the singer's eyes had gone from being two perky and pleasant ones to being two, tear filled orbs. Hiro was sure they would burst any minute and cascade waterfalls down his cheeks. ".And Ryuichi told Tohma that he would stay here tonight so Tohma doesn't have to worry."
Hiro broke his thoughts and looked up. "You're planning to stay here tonight?" A confused look crossed his face. What kind of person would want to sleep at the studio? It probably wasn't unheard of, but after the kind of day Hiro had, he was only too eager to leave.
Ryuichi nodded. "I have a futon right here, and lots of sketch pads and crayons. It's not so bad," he smiled.
The look on Hiro's face was still that of mild confusion. He hesitated for a moment, not quite sure what he should do, but spoke soon after. "I can give you a ride home if you." He couldn't finish.
"HIIIIIIIRRROOOOOOOO!" Ryuichi had clung to him. "Thank you thank you thank you!"
"I'll take that as a yes then."
Ryuichi nodded happily. "I'll call Tohma and tell him not to worry," he said, already dialling the numbers on his cell.
The call was a quick one, and once the call was complete, Ryuichi's oversized eyes met Hiro's as if they were begging to leave.
Hiro paused. The two of them couldn't leave just yet because an important piece of information had yet to reach Hiro's hands.
"Umm. Ryuichi," he spoke, "how do I get to your place?"
The singer gasped. He had forgotten that Hiro didn't know the way to his house. "Ahh," he said, pulling out his sketch pad and crayons once again, "I'll draw you a map!"
Sitting once again on the floor, Ryuichi hummed and sang quietly as he scrawled something on a piece of paper. Completing it, he handed it to Hiro and pointed to the arrow that graced the map's centre. "This is Ryuichi's house!"
Hiro looked at the map which had been so hastily drawn with a bright red crayon.. There were no street names on it, only lines to indicate streets, and the arrow showing Ryuichi's house. Ultimately the thing was useless.
"Ryuichi," he began, followed by a deep breath. "I don't suppose you could draw something a little bit.," he paused trying to think of a tactful word which wouldn't hurt his friend's feelings. "More useful?"
The bandana wearing singer looked down. "Well, I kinda don't know how to get there from here. It's a new house and all." he trailed off, a hint of sadness and embarrassment in his voice.
Suddenly Hiro was ashamed he had even asked. So, hoping to lift the man's spirits, he made an offer which could not be refused.
"You can stay at my place tonight, if you like. At least it's more comfortable than the studio."
Ryuichi's eyes lit up.
***************
The night air was cool and damp against the flesh and Hiro shuddered as he felt some drops of rain hit hard against his bare hands. Driving a motorcycle when the clouds unleashed their wet droplets wasn't the most pleasant of things, especially after such a bad night. As well, he had an unexpected passenger. If he didn't go any faster, Ryuichi would soon regret agreeing to spend the night at the younger boy's apartment, when he could have stayed in the relative warmth of the studio. For now though, the Nittle Grasper singer clung to Hiro's waist as he drove down the poorly lit side streets of the city.
Hiro couldn't help but think about the arms tied around body. Even at a time like this, when the night was unpleasant and the cool air numbed the skin of his hands and face, Hiro smiled an unseen smile. This happened when Shuichi rode with him on his bike too. The small arms wrapped tightly around the driver, the feeling of another body behind him, warming him, reassuring him. He sighed. Hiro had always loved it when Shuichi asked him to drive somewhere, and Hiro quietly enjoyed every minute that the small boy held him. Of course he never did say anything about it, but it didn't matter now. His deeper feelings for Shuichi had to be thrown aside when the pink haired one had met Yuki.
And now, two arms held him tightly once again.
He drove down the streets, half paying attention to the roads, and half wishing that those arms would hold him forever. It was pure luck that he had looked up and saw the street he lived on. If he hadn't he would have passed it completely.
Turning now, the two boys came to a small apartment building. Hiro slowly drove into the parking lot and secured his bike as Ryuichi stepped off onto solid ground behind him.
"That was fun Hiro! I've never been on a motorcycle before, can we go again sometime?" A perky Ryuichi bounced.
Hiro nodded at the words, not entirely aware of what had been spoken, since his mind was drifting, wishing that a couple of warm hands would hold him willingly, rather than just for balance on a motorcycle.
The rain had started to fall harder now, so the two young men ran towards the doorway, and it wasn't long before they were in Hiro's small apartment, shivering.
Hiro flicked the light switch, thankful that the place wasn't too much of a mess. He seldom had guests, and Lord knows it's a rare chance to have Ryuichi Sakuma, huge pop idol, in your living room. The last thing Hiro wanted to do was scare him off with piles of unwashed laundry, scattered books, and several mounds of dirty dishes. Pleased with the relative tidiness after scanning the room for anything incriminating, the barely audible sound of chattering teeth came from behind him.
"Oh! Ryuichi, I'll get you a towel to dry off," he paused giving a sideways glance to the shivering mess beside him. "And I'll find you a change of clothes to sleep in. Although," he thought for a moment, "I'm not sure if I have a whole lot that will fit you."
The smaller one nodded in appreciation and followed the tall boy to the bathroom where he was promptly handed a towel. Immediately Ryuichi set to work drying his soaked mop of hair, and Hiro did the same until he felt a pair of blue eyes watching him. Doing his best not to blush, Hiro glanced over at his companion. "Something wrong, Sakuma-san?" he asked.
"No!" The man smiled and kept drying.
Hiro shrugged it off. "I'm dreaming," he mumbled under his breath, not loud enough for Ryuichi to hear. A yawn escaped his lips and his eyes felt suddenly heavy. "I think I need to sleep," he muttered, throwing off his damp shirt. Hiro didn't notice his friend looking at him this time, or the slight curls that touched the corners of Ryuichi's lips. He was much too tired after a long day, and remembering himself now he realized that he couldn't just crawl into bed. He had a guest to take care of.
Almost as if he read the guitarist's mind, Ryuichi spoke. "Don't worry about me Hiro, I can sleep on the couch!" The other boy beamed. Hiro noticed Ryuichi had removed his red bandana. He looked so vulnerable without it.
Hiro frowned. "No guest of mine is sleeping on the couch. I'll let you have my bed, Ryuichi." He glared as his friend raised a hand in protest. Hiro shut his eyes and spoke once more. "I don't mind at all, just take my bed." Opening his eyes now to check for a reaction, he suddenly realized he had been speaking to a bunny. He raised an eyebrow.
"Kumagorou doesn't want to kick Hiro out of his own bed, so he and Ryuichi will take the couch."
Perhaps it was the hint of exhaustion in Hiro's mind, or perhaps it was his hidden desire to be a bit closer to his guest, but he wasn't willing to listen to any more protests. He grabbed the singer's small wrists and took a step forward.
Ryuichi found himself against the wall cowering. Hiro looked scary like this, that much couldn't be denied. The auburn haired guitarist was still gripping the small wrists, but not forcibly though, just tightly enough to shut Ryuichi up for a moment. Their eyes met as Hiro spoke once more. "This is the last time I'm going to say this. I will let you sleep in my bed tonight." he paused when he realized Ryuichi had a quirky smile plastered on his face.
Ryuichi spoke in a flirtatious tone, half serious and half kidding. "That sounds like an invitation, Hiro." His lips lingered on the name. Hiro. It fell off his tongue so smoothly, so seductively, that Hiro dropped the man's wrists and blushed at the words. Looking away now, Hiro changed the subject and strode out of the room, desperately trying to hide his red cheeks and mumbling something about clothes.
The idol smiled a crooked smile as he watched the younger boy struggle to maintain his cool composure. The grin grew wider when he realized that Hiro was failing miserably at doing so.
The flustered guitarist was shuffling through his dresser drawers in an attempt to find some dry clothes for the still damp star standing in his hallway. "Tee shirt, tee shirt," he muttered aloud. His fatigue had been forgotten but it had been replaced with a horrifying amount of butterflies, and each one seemed to be trying to force its way from his stomach and into the open air. After letting out a long sigh, the guitarist pulled a tee shirt and a pair of shorts from his dresser. He hesitated. Hiro didn't want to admit it, but he was afraid to look at Ryuichi again.
Ryuichi wasn't afraid to look at Hiro though. Something glimmered in the older man's eyes as he watched Hiro's frantic search for clothes. "Hiro," he began, "are you feeling okay? You seem flushed."
Hiro didn't look up.
Taking several steps into the bedroom now, Ryuichi approached the shirtless boy in front of him and kneeled down. "Hiro?"
Once again the sound of his name being spoken through Ryuichi Sakuma's lips, those perfect lips which sang the best songs Hiro had ever known, those lips which were so close to his own, had turned his cheeks a lovely shade of pink.
Another sly grin on Ryuichi's behalf. "I see." He spoke in a steady voice. "Hiro has a severe case of blushing when he's around Ryuichi. Maybe Hiro should be looked at." The blue eyes were dancing in the light.
Hiro shook his head in disbelief. This wasn't happening. It was a dream.
"No, no I don't need to be looked at." He stood up, raised his head, and without looking at the man kneeling beside him, walked out of the room.
******************
Ryuichi sat on Hiro's bed with a familiar fuzzy bunny looking at him with two button eyes. Things hadn't turned out quite the way he had expected, and now he might be paying the price. Hiro hadn't said a word to the singer since the mishap, and Ryuichi was too afraid to leave the solitude of the bedroom just to find out that his friend was angry with him.
"Maybe I was wrong to think Nakano-san liked me, Kumagorou. Or was it my approach? I am rusty. I haven't liked anyone this much in years, and now that I finally get the courage to talk to the guy, he runs away." He frowned as his constant companion stared on.
"But Hiro is strong, isn't he Kumagorou," his eyes became starry as he fantasized. "He's such a good friend to Shuichi, and he plays the guitar, which is SOOO COOL, and he's very good at it. He probably won't be happy that Ryuichi and Kumagorou listened to him play tonight. Even though the song sounded great, Hiro wasn't satisfied. " The fantasy bubble Ryuichi was floating in popped, and two blue eyes filled with watery tears. "But if he's such a perfectionist then he wouldn't like someone like me. He needs someone who is perfect too." His words trailed off. Feeling like his heart had leapt off a building, the singer took in a long breath and leaned back. Maybe I should go home Kumagorou, I'm just making Hiro uncomfortable."
He lay on Hiro's bed now holding the small pink bunny, closed his eyes, and, without even meaning to, fell into a quiet slumber.
***************
Umm.wow. I was expecting a story with nothing but smut, and out comes something with what appears to be a *small* dose of plot. Go figure.