disclaimer: Gravitation and its characters are the property of Maki Murakami.

A/N: A rather unconventional pairing, but I do hope you'll give it a chance and enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. I haven't submitted anything in years, so I'd love feedback very much. Love, Lucy May

It's the end of another long day, technically the beginning of the next one, and there's nothing else for it than to go home to another empty place. Well, this one isn't entirely empty. Another ghost haunts the halls these days. I can almost feel his presence, lately the only other one within my silent fortress.

I've seen his regret in side-long glances, his pain in being so close but never close enough in those forced smiles of misleading calm. There is no tranquility beneath those even, steady words, no satisfaction from the sacrifices he has made. You'd never know how he suffers. He hides it all too well. But I know. I watch him with all too much recognition.

But it is nothing so unique in this little kingdom of dashed hopes and suppressed desires I have constructed like some memorial to my own unfulfilled dreams. Is there truly any occupant of this web of persons who is not spinning themselves a facade from the same common thread to mask their disappointments?

Perhaps Shindou. Is it ignorance or an innate wisdom that causes him to walk so naked among us? Yes, there is a begrudging admiration within myself for this child. After all, he has made more progress to correct my greatest failure by stumbling than I have with all my most carefully constructed plans. But this blunt, unsubtle manner of his that has aided his success in so many ways has also had him unwittingly tread upon another. And this innocence that inflicts pain also leaves him blameless and all the more endearing to the heart he has crushed. Life is, if anything, cruel, is it not?

"Still working, Nakano-san?" I ask, peering into the studio door. I can see that he has given up the pretense of working to distract himself sometime ago, however, as the young man sits and stares into the empty recording booth with a pensive look. The look fades to one of neutrality as he swivels around in his chair to face me.

"Getting ready to close up shop?" he asks me with a smile. It is a ritual that has played itself out for many evenings over the past month, evenings where I've wondered how my empty studio eases his loneliness any more than his own empty apartment.

"Yes, I thought I might. It has been a long day," I say. Hiroshi nods, and goes to gather his things, so that we may exit the building together as we have so many times before. We're veterans of the same war, Hiroshi and I.

"They should be coming back tomorrow," Hiroshi says, shouldering his guitar bag.

This surprises me, and I am briefly caught off guard as the unspoken dialog that has gone on between us these four weeks finds a voice. Yes, the taboo subject that is always just beneath the surface of our thoughts. Eiri and Shuichi were away on what the press so nauseatingly referred to as a honeymoon, a little sabbatical to themselves after all the drama of Eiri's visit to New York. I suppose Hiro is still under the delusion that he's fooling anyone about how he feels about his beloved Shuichi, but this being the first mention of him in four weeks speaks volumes.

"That's correct," I say with a purposeful surprise, as if I had only just realized it. "I am sure you and Shindou-san will have plenty to work with once he returns. You have been putting in a lot of effort to your song writing. I am intrigued to listen to what you've been up to."

Hiroshi shrugs as he follows me out into the hallway.

"I suppose I'd better have something to show for it, hadn't I?" Hiro says with an almost nervous sounding laugh. My, he must be tired this evening, I think, his façade is cracking is more ways than one. I wince, unbidden, though I don't think he notices.

He's afraid of me, I realize. But of course he is. He is a very bright young man.

"Relax, Nakano-san. That was not how I meant it, I assure you," I tell him with a reassuring smile. Hiro gives me a shy, guilt tinged smile in return.

"My apologies, Seguchi-san," he says, then unexpectedly stops, placing his hand on my arm and meeting my eyes. They are bloodshot, but sincere. I might have recoiled in different circumstances. I do like to keep things professional on the whole with my employees. But I suppose these weeks of shared loneliness have rather softened my view of the young man.

"I really do appreciate your letting me come in every night like this. I know studio time is anything but cheap," he begins, but I wave my hand to interrupt him.

"No worries, Nakano-san. I rarely book the small studio you've been using. It is my personal one," I say, giving the hand that has remained at my elbow a quick pat before walking on. "Even the large studios are usually cleared out this late."

"Even, so, I really do appreciate it," Hiro says quietly, as I press the button for the elevator.

"Whether you're exorcising your feelings or trying to distract yourself from them, being an artist is often a fortunate thing," I say as the door opens before me. Perhaps I am a little tired myself tonight, perhaps merely bored with the stagnation of my circumstances, who knows? Either way, I can see that I have gotten his attention as I turn to face him after stepping into the elevator.

"Yeah, I suppose it is," Hiro says, joining me in the car and pushing the button for the garage, while I call the front desk to let the overnight security know that we are leaving.

"Is it the same for ruthless businessmen?" Hiro asks, once I've put my phone away, looking me in the eye with a small smirk on his lips. Has my statement really dismissed his fear so easily? Bright, but still rather unworldly, it seems.

"I am an artist, too, Nakano-san," I remind him, avoiding answering his question. "I started NG on a whim, after all."

"You work very hard though, Seguchi-san. You seem to take your whim quite seriously," Hiro says.

"I do appreciate your commendation of my work ethic," I say as the elevator opens on the parking garage. Front and center, of course, is my own VIP parking spot. I see Hiro's bike on the far side, though it is difficult to make out. One of the overhead lights seems to have blown. I must make a note of that.

"So do you miss the release of being an artist when you need a distraction then?" Hiro asks as we step out of the elevator.

"I suppose. Though producing is in itself an art. It isn't all just ruthless business," I reply, mirroring his earlier smirk.

"Then why all the late hours lately? I thought you were more of a nine to five guy. You've even been sending your secretary and Sakano-san home before you," Hiro asks. I must admit my eyes widen at his boldness. I realize then, however, the simple tragedy of it all. Hiro is more afraid of going home than he is of me at this moment, and he's using whatever he can to stall the inevitable. Is isn't all that difficult to read another person when they are mirroring your own fears back at you.

"I might ask the same of you, Nakano-san. Why haven't you been in the company of the charming Ayaka-san with all these free evenings?" I ask, knowing full well the answer. Ayaka's family arranged for her to marry into another respectable temple family, not to be courted by a pop star. And certainly not a pop star so closely associated with the gay lover of the man who had humiliated her.

"Touche, Seguchi-san," Hiro said. "You know I'm not a traditional enough match for her. And I'm afraid Ayaka-san isn't really the rebellious type."

"Then perhaps she lacked the fire you needed anyway," I say. If it is a night for bold statements, I will play along with this little game Hiroshi has initiated.

"Perhaps," Hiro says, looking towards his bike with a thoughtful expression before looking back at me. "So, Seguchi-san, I know it's pretty late, but what do say to having a drink with me?"

And with that, it has grown far more interesting than I ever anticipated. I was certainly correct in assessing his wish to play with fire, it seems.

"Will my place suffice?" I ask over my shoulder as I walk to my car.

OoOoO

The penthouse is dark and quiet as usual as we enter, the lights of Tokyo gleaming beautifully outside of the floor to ceiling living room window. I turn on the lights and turn to see Hiro slipping off his sneakers, standing awkwardly just inside the door and admiring the place.

"No one's home?" Hiro asks, cautiously stepping onto the white carpet from the wood floor of the threshold and setting his guitar case carefully by the wall. Oh, so it seems he does remember that I am married. It makes me even more curious at this boy known for having such an unerring moral compass being in my home right now. But of course a broken heart does often bleed one's scruples dry in the desperate hope to be able to feel again.

"Mika hasn't lived here for months, Nakano-san," I tell him. He seems to relax slightly. "She is in Kyoto with her family."

"Oh," Hiro says, and I'm surprised he doesn't question me further. I'm also relieved. The complications of my marriage are just not something I wish to get into right now.

"Help yourself to the bar here," I say, waving my hand at its black lacquered surface, near the entrance to the kitchen. "There's also beer in the refrigerator is you wish. I'll be right back."

I step into my bedroom and head for the closet, placing my hat on its rack and hanging up my fur trimmed jacket. Lastly, I place my gloves in their designated drawer and give myself a once over in the mirror. Luckily I don't look as tired as I feel.

Slyly I return and quietly observe the handsome auburn haired youth as he sips my bourbon and looks through my record collection. He's never openly presented himself as anything but straight. I wonder of he knows the full implications in coming home with me so late at night. I wonder at myself a little in taking him up on the offer, but my motivations are embarrassingly simple. I am bored, mildly curious, and, I will admit it, lonely.

"Do you need ice?" I ask. He jumps a little at the sound of my voice.

"No, I'm fine," he says. I slip past him, close enough to smell him, to feel his heat, and deftly select a John Coltrane album from the shelf by his hip. He watches me closely as I slip the record from its sleeve and place it on the turntable.

"I've never had a record player," he says as he observes.

"Trying to make me feel my age, Nakano-san?" I ask teasingly as I drop the needle in the groove, and go over to make a drink of my own.

"I don't think you've aged a day since the first Grasper album," he says with a smile, and I know then beyond any doubt that he wants me, his gray eyes quickly assessing my face and body.

"I certainly hope that isn't true," I reply, stepping around him slowly with my drink and leading him to the sofa.

He sits close like I'd hoped he would. He asks about the music we're listening to, the music I'm working on producing, hopefully hints at my perhaps giving what he's been working on a listen. And somewhere into our second drink, I decide to make the first move, leaning into that firm, lanky body and pressing my lips to his. He doesn't stall or pretend he doesn't know why we're here, and I'm delighted when he takes control and presses me onto my back with a breathy groan.

I waste little time after that before taking him to my bed. He trembles eagerly as he helps me undress, and I must admit that it's quite flattering. I had my fleeting thoughts that perhaps I was a mere stand-in for Shindou, but there's no mistaking his desire when he murmurs my name and kisses my bare shoulder. I recline on lavender silk sheets and watch him pull off the rest of his clothes before he joins me. It's a wonderful view.

"I can't believe this is happening," he whispers and smiles before kissing me. He's not a bad kisser, but I can sense his inexperience, the way he hesitates as he explores my body with his hands, his calluses from the guitar strings stroking up and down my sides and chest.

I take control for a while, slowing him down before he over stimulates himself, and guiding him, showing him what to do, where to touch and how. I decide it is best if I let him be the one to enter me, as he's obviously never been with a man before.

What he lacks in experience, he makes up for in enthusiasm, for sure, when he is inside me at last and begins to rock his body into mine, panting and moaning as I guide his hand between us to touch me. It's exhilarating to be the focus of all this want, this animalistic need, and I realize how much I've longed for this feeling, how I've craved it, as I wrap my legs around him and pull him deeper, encourage him to thrust harder.

It rather shocks me when I come first. He doesn't last much longer though, and collapses onto me, brushing my damp hair from my face and kissing me with unexpected tenderness, before pulling from me and rolling off to the side, smiling from ear to ear and panting heavily as he looks at me.

"That was incredible," he says, his voice ragged from his vocalizing during the act. "I - I knew sex was supposed to feel good, but damn." He gives a shaky laugh, and turns on his side, cupping my face towards him as his words sink in.

"Was that your first time, Nakano-san?" I ask, quickly adding, "Not that I could tell, certainly, but from what you just said." He nods, and looks down sheepishly. I place my hand to the one at my cheek, and kiss his palm.

"You were wonderful," I tell him, and he looks back at me, his gray eyes seeking my sincerity, and finally accepting it.

I'll admit I am a little thrown by this information. Hiro is an incredibly attractive man, after all, and has his fair share of Bad Luck's fan base fawning over him. It is then I begin to feel a little unsure of this decision, and wonder what exactly this turn of events means to him.

"Is it - I mean, is it cool if I crash here tonight? I'm pretty wiped out," he says with a yawn.

"Well, I certainly have no intention of getting back out tonight to take you home, Nakano-san," I say teasingly. He grins, snaking an arm beneath my neck and pulling me closer.

"Good," he says, his eyes fluttering closed. "And for the love of God, call me Hiro."

OoOoO

I wake up to Hiro snoring in my ear. I can't help but be a bit amused by the situation. It has been a while since I've woken up to find a teenager in my bed.

He stirs as I get up to go to the restroom, his eyes opening just a slit and then widening with a start at the unfamiliar surroundings.

"Sorry to disturb you," I whisper, sliding out of bed. I can feel him watching me as I go to the adjoining bathroom, but he says nothing. I clean myself up a bit before I return, and find him just outside the door. I smile and make a show of leaving the light on for him while he takes his turn, and I climb back into bed.

I retrieve my phone from the nightstand, and send a quick text to Sakano, letting him know that I do not plan on coming in until sometime well into the afternoon, and quickly turn off my phone to avoid the frenzied reply this is sure to bring. Sakano's insecurity in his own abilities is of great value most of the time, but can be rather bothersome on occasion. I'm sure he'll assume that I plan to meet Eiri at the airport.

Eiri. He'll be home today, I think to myself and close my eyes, lying back on the bed. Will he even notice that I am not there, not waiting for him as always? It is doubtful. He has tried in so many ways to tell me that he does not need me anymore, not like he once did, and I have tried in just as many not to hear him. In any case I have already made elaborate plans with the help of K for their return, to divert the press from harassing them. You're welcome, Eiri-san.

The bed dips beside me, and Hiro's strong arms are pulling me towards him again. I open my eyes and gaze into his, dark with desire, and know he is more than ready for round two. I think I surprise him when my body rises to meet him, when I crash my lips into his. This want to be wanted has consumed me, awakened something within me. I lean into him, guiding him down onto the pillows and straddle him.

Our second coupling is as intense as the first, as I ride him. He sits up, kissing me fiercely and flipping me onto my back, entering me again, lifting my leg and the angle is perfect, perfect…

"We really should shower now, but I don't want to move," I say with a sigh, my head pillowed on his chest, our breathing just now stilled enough to allow me to speak. He laughs softly, his chest rumbling pleasantly against my ear.

We shower together. It's strange, sharing this familiarity with this young man I have known for over a year now, but know so little about outside of my observations. Somehow it feels even more intimate than the sex.

"You know, a lot has always been made over Shuichi idolizing Nittle Grasper, but I was always a pretty big fan myself," Hiro says as he shampoos his long hair. "While Shuichi would be drooling over Sakuma-san when we watched your concert videos, I was usually watching you."

"Oh?" I ask. "Not the lovely Nori?" I step aside and let him step into the stream to rinse. I watch the suds slide down his body, my own responding like some Pavlovian reaction now that I knew the pleasure it could bring me.

"Oh, I looked at her, too, of course," Hiro said with a laugh. "But yours is the talent that always intrigued me the most. Among other things."

"Other things?" I prompt him to continue despite myself, with a creeping feeling of embarrassment.

"I never even told Shuichi this, but I always thought you were hot. Like, really hot," Hiro says, looking a little embarrassed himself, his attempt in hiding it all the further making it obvious as he looks away to find the conditioner. "I guess you could say that this is kind of an old fantasy of mine come true, you know?"

You'd think I would be immune to flattery by now. I'm one of the most visible and respected celebrities in the country. Everyone wants a piece of Seguchi Tohma, and they'll say whatever they need to get into his good graces. I even have my own personal lapdog to tell me how talented and what a genius I am at least a hundred times a day. And yet here I am, goading a teenaged boy, my own employee, and admitted fan, no less, to tell me I'm pretty.

And positively loving it more than I want to when he does.

Oh, Eiri, have you really brought me so low? Am I that starved for the love you deny me? I really need to get back my control on this situation.

"So, why did you never tell Shindou-san that you were interested in men?" I ask lightly, as Hiro rinses out the conditioner. He nearly chokes on the stream of water as he opens his mouth, whether in shock or to respond, I'm not sure. He bends double for a moment, and I pat his back gently until he recovers, standing up and giving me a look that is almost wounded, before turning to shut off the water.

"How did - you mean you know?" Hiro asks, his back to me as he leans on his hand against the shower stall.

"Hiro," I say softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, which begins to shake, not from tears but from a self-deprecating laugh.

"I guess you must think I'm pretty ridiculous, don't you? The selflessly devoted best friend, always waiting in the wings and watching another man make him miserable, make him happy, whatever the case, but always being there to listen, to encourage him. I guess I blew my chance pretty hard, didn't I?" Hiro asks bitterly, running a hand over his face.

"Well at least you knew you ever had one," I say, opening the shower door and stepping out into the steamy bathroom. I throw Hiro a towel as he steps out behind me, and pull on my bathrobe, throwing a towel over my hair as I go back into the bedroom. I sit on the bed and look reluctantly at the phone. I have fourteen messages. All from Sakano, none from Eiri.

I make a quick call, and flick on the television. And there they are, Shuichi looking blissful, and Eiri looking grumpy, jet-lagged, and simply breath taking. It looks like the press caught them at the airport after all. Chalk it up to another one of my failures. Hiro emerges from the bathroom and sits beside me on the bed in silence as I watch.

"I've called you a cab, Nakano-san. It should be here in about fifteen minutes," I inform him.

"Thank you, Seguchi-san," he says, and begins to gather his clothes.

Did I expect him to object in any way, I wonder to myself as I watch him go, moments later, receiving a polite bow and a thanks for my hospitality. Did I want him to? I don't even know anymore.

There is a strong possibility I will add to this, depending on inspiration and if interest from readers is expressed, so let me know. :)