Author's Notes: Hewwo. I just woke up this morning with this idea. I'm sorry if you hate it. It's kind of a personal piece. But, hey, give it a shot.

Rated: PG

The Reason

I'm lying on my back, looking up at the ceiling. That little bundle of pink is snuggled up next to me, our sweat slicked bodies rubbing against one another, relishing in the after-sex glow.

Before I met Shuichi I always just had sex and that was it. Once it was over I would put back on my shirt (my pants would still be on) and usher the lady out. That's always how it was. One woman after another would spend an hour or so in my bed and then they would be made to leave – sometimes with payment. There was no sleeping over, there was no breakfast together the next morning, there was no snuggling, and there was no after-glow.

Yet within one week Shuichi had me doing all of those things with him. The only times I could get away with leaving him right after sex is if we did it midday. There was no way in hell I was snuggling then.

Well, that's how it used to be, at least.

Now the little brat nearly has me begging for it - not that I'd ever let him know that. I never thought that just lying there after having sex with your partner could feel so good. The wave of endorphins numbs your brain, but it's a nice kind of numb. It's one of those warm, fuzzy numbs that you just want to crawl right into. And then, just when you think your whole body is being washed away, you feel that heat. You feel the heat of your lover next to you, snuggling next to you, breathing next to you, pulsing next to you, numbing next to you.

It's the most wonderful feeling in the world.

And I love it.

And now, feeling him like this, his lithe arms wrapped around me, head against my shoulder, lips brushing my neck with each breath, pink locks tickling my face… Well, I don't think I could be happier.

That's until he says it.

"Yuki…"

I love those breathy little sighs of his.

"Yuki, I love you…"

And that's the point where I couldn't be happier.

God, he's turned me into such a sap.

I used to be rough and calculating, not only on the outside, but on the inside as well. Within in a year of being with him and the damn brat has me only a little icy on the outside and a friggen pile of goop on the inside. It's bad for my image.

But I kind of love it.

However, I still have my pride and shame, which keep me from telling him stupid things like that. Just like how he has no idea I've practically been his puppy since day one.

The second I kissed this moron I felt it. The very second I pinned him up against that elevator wall and pressed my lips to his was when I knew - which scared the shit out of me.

And I loved it.

When he let me have sex with him, though, that first time, is when I became his eternal slave. It really seems that way to me, at least.

No matter what he does (whether it be breaking something, hounding me, following me across the world, or even cross-dressing) I can't find myself to hate him.

I tried, I really did. I tried to hate him, I tried to leave him, I tried to make him hate me… but it never worked.

Though he might think otherwise, though he might not ever know it, I'm loyal to him and I'm his god damn slave.

The stupid brat has me wrapped around his finger in ways I never knew I could bend.

Yet, I love it.

Through all of this, though, he leaves me perplexed… perplexed for a reason…

And before I can stop it, I'm asking him "why?"

Why do you love me, Shuichi?

Not once, in all the time we've spent together, have I ever understood why he loves me. He doesn't know about my devotion to him. He doesn't know about the way he makes my heart leap. He doesn't know about how I clam up when he tells me those three words. He doesn't know that I…

He giggles. And it's beautiful.

I love it.

"Because you're you, Yuki," he responds softly, and I can feel the smile on his lips against my neck. But I still don't understand.

I'm cruel to him. I yell at him. I don't listen to him. I tell him to shut up. I call him names. I'm rough in bed. I kick him out.

And, yet…

"You may not think it," he begins again, apparently understanding my confusion, "and no one else may see it, but…" He props himself up on an elbow so he can see my face. Our eyes meet. "I think you've got a romantic streak."

I think I would have face-faulted if I didn't catch myself in time. The only time the word "romantic" came into a conversation involving me was either about my books or when heavily negating Shuichi's last statement.

He could, it appeared, still catch my reaction no matter how I tried to hide it.

I love those times when he can see right through me.

He giggled again.

"I see it, even if you don't." He leaned down and brushed his lips against the tip of my nose.

I love it when he does that.

"You may be a total jerk to me sometimes, but it's worth it for those few moments when you surprise me."

"Surprise you?" I question, arching an eyebrow.

He smiles meekly and looks away. "Like, when you come up behind me when I'm working on a song real hard and kiss the back of my neck. It always cheers me up."

I blink. I never thought that it actually meant something to him…

"And when you remember some small, insignificant detail about something I told you. I always feel like you're not paying attention to me, but I talk anyway." He looks back to me. "It makes me so happy when I find out you really did pay attention."

I don't know why, but I can feel myself smiling. His eyes and mouth are smiling back.

I love making him smile. Especially with his eyes.

"Or when you wake me up in the mornings with a soft kiss and breakfast is all ready for us." He leans down and mimics one of those kisses and I realize just how nice it feels. "Or when you're in a gentle mood and we make love." He's blushing and looks away again.

I was right – I am too rough in bed most days.

"And when you let me snuggle next to you when we're done." He's giggling again, but this time from embarrassment. He buries his face into the pillow right next to my head. It always amazes me how he can still be so bashful when talking about it, but is sometimes so kinky it worries me.

I'm smiling so much that I almost forget what it's like to frown. It's a wonderful feeling.

I wrap my arms around his waist and run my fingers lightly up and down his spine, which he purrs softly at into the pillow. I kiss his temple. He leans up a little again to look down at me.

I love being under him. I love the feel of his shadow on me.

I reach a hand up and pull his face down to mine, showering him in kisses. He's grinning nearly from ear to ear, and I am, too.

"And," he manages out through little giggles and my assault, "when you do cute things like this."

He sometimes just takes me over, and it almost makes my heart ache. No matter how often I tell myself to back down, to chill out, to be mean, and to stop caring, no matter how often I tell myself these things I always just find myself falling deeper and deeper.

But I love it.

I capture his lips in a kiss, but it's difficult considering we're both trying to repress a smile. I usually don't act this way with him, even when I am trying to be nice. But when he catches me off guard like this (especially when the after-sex glow is fading away) I tend to let loose more.

And I'm glad. And I love it.

He leans down to me to kiss me more, and I feel his naked body pressed to mine. Aside from being erotic, it's wonderful. Just the feeling of the warmth of his lips and tongue against mine is enough to make my chest tighten. His still heated skin rubbing against mine, and his pink bangs falling onto my face, his nose brushing against my cheek, his breath on my lips, and his fingers in my hair…

He eventually pulls back, but the tips of our noses are still touching. He giggles and rubs are noses against one another. God, he's so damn cute…

"Hey, Yuki," he drones playfully.

I take a slow breath, eyes locked to his, and manage a small hummed response.

"Why do you love me?"

It was such a simple question that I nearly found myself answering it.

Nearly.

"I never said I did," I retorted, catching myself just in time. Shuichi pouted.

"Yuki!" he whined, pushing himself up more. "Come on!"

I stare at him, face deadpan, eyes cold. I can turn it on just like that. And he hates it.

I love it.

"Fine, screw you." And with that my little pink bundle rolls off of me and onto his side, back facing me.

I could comfort him. I could at least give him a reassuring kiss on the shoulder. But I don't. Instead I just smile to myself and roll onto my stomach. I can't give too much away in one night.

As I lay there I can feel him sulking next to me. It's actually quite amusing, but I know he's hurt. I do that to him too often. I'm not a very good lover, even when I try to be.

Then I start to wonder, why do I love him? What is it about him that makes me tick?

Before I can even finish thinking the question, all the answers are flowing into my head.

I love him for his smile, that infectious smile that always makes me feel better even when I'm at my worse.

I love his voice for his singing and his raw talent, and I love it for the way my name falls on his lips. I love how his giggling is always so girly and sweet. I love how he sometimes goes crazy and laughs like a maniac. I love the way he makes "I love you" sound like the most beautiful music in the world.

I love his hair. I love those stupid little pink locks that are positively adorable. I love the way it looks when his black roots start growing back in. I love the way he always begs me to help him re-dye it. I love the way it looks when he hasn't had it cut in weeks and it falls in his eyes and in my face when we kiss. I love the way it sticks up all crazily when he wakes up or after we make love.

I love the way he pounces on me when he comes home from work all energized. And I love the way he slowly falls into my lap when he comes home from work exhausted.

I love when he's thoughtful and twists his mouth. I love when he furrows his brow at me. I love when he pouts. I love when he whines my name (though not so much when he whines anything else).

I love the way he follows me everywhere. I love his devotion to me.

I love how he gets so jealous so easily. I love how he gets so happy so easily. And I love how he gets so riled up so easily. I especially love how he gets horny so easily.

I love when he's about to cry but tries to hold it back like a man. I love how he sniffles when he's happy. I love the sound of his whimpering after I do something sweet. I love the way he crumples at every little thing I say, good or bad. I love how I can make him cry from just a sweet kiss. I love the way he throws himself in my arms when upset or overjoyed. I love how his tears wet my shirt.

I love how he pretends to hate me. I love when he tries to ignore me. I love the way denies me of sex for a week. And I love the way he breaks down in two days.

I love how he's not afraid of anything. I love how he doesn't care what other people think. I love his stubbornness. I love how he's so selfish. I love his drive, his ambition. I love his naivety.

I love how everything he does it cute. I love how everything he does it romantic (in some twisted way). I love how everything he does it sexy.

I love how he gets so pissed when he gets mistaken for a woman. I love how he gets mad at me when I call him "gay". And I love how he'll deny it to the bitter end ("It's just a coincidence!")

I love that he never gives up. I love how he always forgives me. I love when he yells something horribly obscene at me, and then realizing what he said promptly apologizes. I love how half of his apologies wind up with sexual favors. I love how half of our arguments wind up in make-up sex. I love how he doesn't mind that.

I love the way he purrs when I touch him in the right spots. I love the way he arches when I nibble on his bottom lip. I love the way he throws his head back and grips the sheets. I love how he always wants more. I love how he's always submissive.

I love being inside of him. I love his heat. I love it when I can make him scream my name. I love it when it claws my back.

I love how he curls up next to me when we're done. I love the feel of his heartbeat against me. I love the sound of his breathing slowing when he falls asleep.

I love the way he looks when he's sleeping. I love the way he mumbles when dreaming. I love how he always clutches on to me, whether it is a good dream, wet dream, or nightmare. I love how he always wakes up horny.

I love when he just comes out of the shower and smells like shampoo and soap. I love kissing him after he brushed his teeth because he uses strawberry toothpaste. I love watching him shave his face and then kissing him all over when he's done.

I love the smell of his pillow. I love the fragrance of his cologne. I love his aftertaste.

I love how his palms get all clammy when I get too close or say something nice. I love how the sweat trickles down his forehead when we're making love. I love the way he gets sudden chills in the middle of a conversation and then uses it as an excuse to snuggle up to me.

I love how just a glance gets him embarrassed. I love how just one kiss gets him to blush. I love how just whispering something in his ear can make squirm.

I love when he makes breakfast and burns it. I love when he sneaks out really early in the morning to pick me up something for breakfast because he finally realizes he can't cook. I love when he badgers me about eating too many sweets.

I love that he cares.

I love…

I stare out into seemingly nothing, mind coming to a halt.

I love him.

I love Shindou Shuichi.

I love the lead singer of Bad Luck.

I love this man.

I love my Shu-chan.

I turn over to face him, but his back is still to me.

I'm smiling, but almost sadly. It hurts, sometimes, to love him this much. I want to tell him, I want to see his face, to hear his response, to watch the tears flow.

"Shuichi," I whisper and kiss his shoulder. He shrugs away from me. "Shuichi," I repeat again. I kiss him once more. He doesn't stir. He's pretending to be asleep. I keep kissing his shoulder. "I know you're not asleep." I slide my hand over his stomach and lightly tickle him. I feel his muscles twitch under my fingers.

I love that, too.

"Don't be mad. All I said was 'I never said I love you.'" I pause. "But I never said I didn't."

Before I can even comprehend what happened I find myself on my back, pinned down, Shuichi straddling me. I blink.

"Tell me!!" he demands.

I love him for his sudden bursts of energy.

I love him for his insanity.

"Never mind," I offer innocently. He's not buying. He growls.

I love the way he makes little noises in the back of his throat. I love the way it feels under my lips.

I kiss his Adam's apple, feeling the vibration. I smile.

"Yuki," he hisses dangerously.

I love the sound of breath passing his lips.

My mouth leaves his neck and I repeat my previous statement. He's glaring at me.

I love his eyes. I love the way they smile. I love they way they fill with tears. I love the way they turn cold like ice. I love the way the light reflects in their purple depths.

"Good night," I reply nonchalantly. I roll over onto my back and I'm hit with a wave of cold since Shuichi threw the sheet aside during his pounce on me.

I love how he doesn't care if he's naked. I love how he could prance around the house in his birthday suit and not care.

Unless I'm touching him – then he cares.

And I love that.

I love making his whole body blush.

I try to ignore the cool air and act like I'm falling asleep. Shuichi won't have it.

"Yuuuukiiiii!" he whines, pounding on my back. It actually feels good. He leans forward and presses his weight on me.

I love his warmth. I love his softness. I love the way it feels when he's against me. I love how he seems so fragile.

"Tell meeeeeee…"

I bite back a smile and pretend to be sleeping. Shuichi doesn't move for a moment. He just rests there on top of me, pressing me down into the mattress.

"Yuki…?" he whispers after a few moments. I don't answer, but I don't think he expected me to. "I love you."

I love the way he makes my heart leap. I love the way the simplest phrase like that makes it hard for me to breathe.

Another moment of silence passes. He shifts.

"You know, you're supposed to say 'I love you, too'" he murmurs, pushing himself off of me. He takes his place next to me on the bed.

I love the way he always tosses and turns because it's hard for him to fall asleep without holding something in his arms. I love the way I'm usually the one being held.

Not now, though.

That should be rectified.

"Us authors," I begin slowly, turning over to face him. He blinks. "…tend to say things in different ways," I pause, watching him. He's eyeing me expectantly. I smile and add a "Shu-chan" to the end of my statement.

His eyes go wide.

I love surprising him.

"Yuki," he chokes out. Apparently he caught the innuendo.

I lean forward and press my lips to his trembling own. I whisper a small 'goodnight' and then lay on my stomach again.

Shuichi doesn't move for a while. I can feel him watching me, but I ignore it.

I love that feeling. I love it when he watches me. I love how he makes me feel wanted.

He sniffles once and then he shifts, presumably rubbing his nose or eyes. He shifts again and I feel the bed move. I see his arm snake around me, his fingers gently clutching the sheets in front of me.

I love it when he moves and bed shifts under his weight. I love the way he always curls his fingers in the blankets and the wrinkles it makes. I love watching his knuckles go white if he grips them too hard.

He presses against me and then doesn't move.

"I love you, Yuki," he tells me softly, voice a little hoarse.

I love it when his voice gets scratchy. I love the sound it makes. And I love it when he talks all husky, too.

"I'll never say if I love you," I reply casually. I roll over in his arms. He's watching me. I smile broadly. "But I'll never say I don't."

His lips spread in a smile, but it's quivering. He nods quickly and ducks his head down.

I love feeling him shake in my arms. I love making him speechless.

I reach down to pick up the discarded sheet and pull it over us. Neither of us moves.

Shuichi doesn't toss and turn in order to get to sleep because I'm in his arms.

And I love being there.

Author's Notes: Like I said, I'm sorry if you hated it. Even if you did though, please review. Flames are welcome if that's what you want to say, but at least try to be productive in your bashing.

Please?