Authoress's note: so... this one's more romance than smut, IMO, but it's still enough to be rated T, hehe :P And I hope you enjoy despite the lack of really-really graphic sex ^^;;

Rating: M. This is SMUT, people!!

Disclaimer:if I owned the cast of Gravitation, this is how they would act. Need I say more?

The Perils of Blackouts

Yuki jerked awake in the middle of the night, feeling as though his heart was trying to beat its way out of his chest. He had no idea what had woken him, only that he was now wide-awake and adrenaline was pumping through him. Then something else registered in his muddled mind: the bed was empty beside him.

Thunder crashed outside, and Yuki jumped again. So that was what had woken him. Well, no wonder Shuichi wasn't in bed – he wasn't exactly a light sleeper, but a thunderstorm as violent as this was enough to keep anyone up.

Yuki grinned. No-one ever said that night was strictly for sleeping. And really, there was no way he was going to fall back asleep now with all the thunder rolling practically right on top of their building. Living in the penthouse suite had its disadvantages. Still, Yuki was sure he and Shuichi could beat the sounds of the storm together. Mind made up, he wrapped one of the bedsheets around his waist and stepped out of the bedroom.

The hallway was dark, and only long familiarity saved Yuki from a stubbed toe or a painful run-in with furniture corners. He found Shuichi curled up in a fleece blanket on the couch in the living room, reading a manga to candlelight. The sight was so strange that for a moment Yuki froze, before he remembered another unfortunate fact of the penthouse suite: big storms tended to kill their electricity.

Shuichi looked up at Yuki's approach. The flickering lights cast odd shadows across his face as he smiled and scooted over, making room on the couch and under the blanket. Yuki added his own blanket to the nest as he sat down next to Shuichi, and the younger man squeaked when he realized that Yuki was naked. Yuki chuckled and reached out, taking the manga and letting it fall over the end of the couch. He wrapped himself around Shuichi and murmured in his ear, "Can't sleep?"

Shuichi sighed and sank into his embrace. "I like thunderstorms," he said softly, as though afraid to disturb the noise of the storm. "But sometimes they're just annoying."

"Funny, that's exactly how I think of you," Yuki snickered, his hands roaming under the blanket.

"Yukiiiiiiii." Shuichi playfully slapped his hands away. "Don't be an ass."

Yuki bit the juncture of Shuichi's neck and shoulder. "You love me this way," he very nearly growled, and Shuichi shivered.

"Yeah," he breathed, "yeah, I guess I do." He wriggled in Yuki's grasp, twisting around and climbing on top of Yuki so he was straddling him. He'd managed to lose his boxer shorts in the process, and now he sat in Yuki's lap quite naked, looking down at his handsome older lover. "I really do love you," he said solemnly. He leaned down to kiss Yuki.

He didn't wait for Yuki to say it as well. He didn't expect him to say it. He never did. But Shuichi knew it, and that was enough. Yuki let him explore his mouth in a languid play of lips and tongue, his hands settling around Shuichi's waist. Their eyes fell closed, and together they lost themselves in the slow burn of passion.

Gradually they moved on to different body parts, kissing, biting, sucking; ears, neck, shoulder, chest. They spent a long time on foreplay and didn't rush. Nothing was frantic; nothing was urgent. Nothing mattered but each other.

Everything was hazy in the warm golden candlelight, their skin slippery with sweat. Shuichi fumbled for the lube in the hidden drawer of the coffee table, kept there for just such occasions. He opened it one-handed, the other hand anchored on Yuki's shoulder. Yuki slid his hands up Shuichi's sides, pausing to tickle at his ribs. He pinched the lube from Shuichi and moved to prepare him.

There was something undeniably sexy about watching Shuichi preparing himself, but tonight Yuki wanted to do it, wanted the connection, the intimacy: the care of the process as well as the passion of the act. With one hand wrapped around Shuichi's twitching cock and the fingers of his other hand repeatedly brushing against the younger man's prostate, Yuki thought the word 'passion' definitely suited Shuichi more than 'care' or 'intimacy'.

As far as intimacy went, Yuki rather liked the missionary position, but it wasn't his favorite. His favorite was this – sitting up, with Shuichi in his lap, riding him. It was just slightly dirty, and with his legs planted firmly on the ground and cushions supporting his back, provided the best leverage and angle for him to hit Shuichi's prostate. And like the missionary position, it offered the romance of face-to-face sex.

With that thought in mind, Yuki supported Shuichi as he slowly lowered himself onto his erection. Shuichi let out a shaky gasp at the sensation and slowed down even more, savoring the stretch and the fullness. Yuki remained silent, preferring to wait until he was buried completely to utter a low moan, almost lost in the sounds of the storm.

Wait a minute, he thought; that wasn't right. He'd come to Shuichi intending for them to beat the storm in volume, and here he was smothering his moans himself? Oh well. He'd never been a very vocal lover anyway. Shuichi, on the other hand... Yuki thrust up with his hips, drawing a loud cry from Shuichi. He grinned. There, that was more like it.

For the next few hours Yuki made sure they paced themselves, taking it slowly, allowing the arousal to build up each time and lead them to an all more satisfying orgasm that no amount of frantic fucking would ever achieve. He reveled in the noises he managed to wring from Shuichi, every moan and gasp and scream sounding more erotic to him that the one before it.

Thunder continued to roar outside, nearly drowning out their panting after the third orgasm. Rain lashed against the windows in a harsh staccato. One of the candles burned out with a hiss; smoke wafted over from the table like incense. Shuichi was slumped bonelessly over Yuki, still straddling his legs, his fingers clutching at the couch's upholstery as Yuki's cock softened inside him. He moaned, knowing that in a few minutes Yuki would recover. Anticipation streaked up his spine, making him shiver.

Yuki closed his eyes, feeling Shuichi tremble against him. He would never admit it, but deep down he was a hopeless romantic. And he couldn't help but think that making love to candlelight while a storm raged outside was the most romantic thing they'd ever done. And that Shuichi, his skin slick with sweat, muscles pulled taught, eyes screwed shut and biting his lip, had looked heart-achingly beautiful.

He hadn't realized he was speaking out loud until Shuichi breathed, "Oh, Yuki..." and leaned down. His lips crashed against Yuki's, and they shared a long, slow kiss. Shuichi brought his hands to Yuki's, entangling their fingers. Yuki allowed it for a moment, letting Shuichi direct the kiss, before he slid his fingers out from between Shuichi's and grabbed his wrists instead. Mouths still firmly attached, Yuki brought Shuichi's hands behind him, pressing them against the small of his back. The move pushed Shuichi down hard onto Yuki's reawakened arousal, and he broke the kiss with a hoarse cry as he came again, overstimulation making for a quick, brutal orgasm.

The storm didn't sound quite so loud anymore, Yuki thought with a grin.

Yuki woke first in the morning. It took him a minute to understand where he was and how he'd ended up there, and with the realization came a slow smile which spread across his face. He glanced down at Shuichi, still sound asleep on his chest, his head tucked under Yuki's chin. There was a dark bruise on his shoulder; Yuki had no doubt that its shape and size perfectly matched his own mouth.

He took stock of the room around them, one hand stroking Shuichi's hair gently. Candles still littered every surface; thankfully all of them had burned out by the time they fell asleep last night, or something might have caught fire and the whole place would have burned down. Yuki chuckled; candles were romantic, but a damn nuisance sometimes. The entire living room smelt of smoke. Yuki wrinkled his nose; it wasn't as acrid as cigarette smoke, but still it made him want to gag. He couldn't understand how he'd once smoked so much.

Allowing Shuichi to slowly slide down to the couch, Yuki got up. He wrapped one of the blankets around himself like a toga and went to the large windows that led out to the balcony. He opened them with a flourish, letting in cold, clean air. The rain had done Tokyo good. The fresh air would do them good, too.

Shuichi, apparently, didn't think so. He groaned from within the nest on the couch, curling in under the blanket and muttering, "Yukiiiiiii... close the windowwww... s'cold."

Yuki grinned to himself. What an opportunity. Opening yet another window, he returned to the couch and scooped up the bundle of blankets. It was harder to navigate their maze of an apartment with an armload of struggling, squealing, laughing vocalist than it had been alone in the dark. Why did they have so much furniture in the hall, anyway?

Yuki dropped his bundle on the bed. The bundle said, "Oomph! Yukiiii, why can't you ever let me sleep in?" and curled further into the blankets. Yuki patiently unwrapped it and was greeted by tousled pink hair and sleepy-angry violet eyes. "Mou... I can't even read a manga in the middle of a thunderstorm without you molesting me. You wore me out, Yuki!"

Shuichi couldn't stop the blush that crept across his cheeks as he said that; six orgasms was a new record for them, and it hadn't even been a quick, hard, white-hot-passion kind of night. It had been long, and slow, and deliberate... and Shuichi was getting hard just remembering how exhilarating – and terrifying – the thought of yet another orgasm had been. "Yuki..."

Yuki just smirked at him, hand already coated in lube and reaching for Shuichi's half-hard cock. Such were the perils of blackouts.