Title: Exclusive

Author: Yukiko

Warnings: Lemon, angst, character death, minor OOC-ness.

Pairings: Shuichi/Yuki

Summary: AU timeline. Set about a year after Shuichi and Yuki begin dating. Gravi EX and most of Gravitation (Mangaverse or Animeverse) never happened. Shuichi asks to be Yuki's one and only, with unpredictable consequences.

Disclaimer: If only I did own these boys… I'd make them do lewd things to each other. Oh wait… I still can do that… neeheeheehee.

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"I want you all to myself."

This time Yuki looks up from his computer screen, pinning Shuichi down with his sharp gaze and not saying anything.

"It's… it's about respect, Yuki… I wish… No, I want you to respect me." It was clumsy, but better than not saying anything. The pink-haired boy remained shifting himself from one foot to the other in the doorway of Yuki's study.

Still, Yuki remains silent… assessing. Maybe he was wondering about how much longer he could get away with using Shuichi. The singer wasn't sure.

"We've been… as we are for a long time, Yuki. And I've been compromising a lot for you. And I don't think I want to do it anymore."

Shuichi could almost hear Yuki's thoughts/Oh my… Backbone in my toy. Who'd have thought…/

"Yuki… I love you. Just think about it, okay?" He started to turn to go, but stopped. "I'll be at my parents for awhile. Let me know when you've decided."

And with a last glance at the writer who hadn't moved or spoken, Shuichi left the apartment.

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A week, and then two passed. Shuichi spent a lot of time moping around and annoying Maiko. He even figured out how not to burn chicken in the kitchen. Thank god for moms and their endless patience.

He also made up his mind that should Yuki refuse him, he would end things between them, once and for all. Even though everyone and their dogs thought that Shuichi was helpless when it came to Yuki, he would somehow do this. He would take back his self-respect.

On the Sunday of the second week, his cell phone began to clang out the ringtone that he had assigned to Yuki.

"Moshi moshi."

"I'm coming to pick you up. Be ready in 10 minutes."

"Oh… okay."

Yuki hung up.

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As soon as Shuichi was inside Yuki's apartment and the door was closed behind them, the writer slammed the smaller man into it and began to kiss him heatedly. Shuichi's entire being centered on where their tongues met and wrestled wetly. He was vaguely aware of Yuki's hands undressing him even as they guided him in the direction of the bedroom.

In the back of his mind, he knew that they should talk about what they last spoke about, but he also knew that he had gone two weeks without the blond man's hands on his body. Every time he thought about saying something, the words needed to start the conversation escaped him.

Yuki's hands felt almost as frantic as Shuichi felt, and Shuichi wasn't sure what to think about it. The singer was on his back beneath the other man, letting himself be kissed thoroughly. If they were going to come to an end, he might as well have this final heated moment to remember them by.

Shuichi's pleasant haze faded somewhat when he felt the blond man's hands lift him, so that he was straddling Yuki's erection. And all of a sudden, his breath came back to him, and he pulled away minutely.

"Yuki, we should talk."

The blond man was breathing hard, and his erection could still be felt where it was pressed against Shuichi's asscheeks. But perhaps in the most selfless gesture of his entire adult life, he conceded, "Alright."

Shuichi shifted off of his lover's body, to sit at the side. "So…"

"My answer's yes."

"…Y-yes?"

"That means okay, doofus. I'll be yours only." The look in his eyes were softer than they normally were, and Shuichi thought he felt his heart stop for about five whole seconds.

"… R-really?"

Yuki seemed to consider his answer carefully before he spoke. "How long has it been since you've smelled perfume on my clothes while doing the laundry, brat?"

Shuichi was taken aback at first, but then thought about the question hard. His nose scrunched up when he did. "Umm… I don't know. A long time?"

"Right."

Shuichi understood, and it was like a rush of air came back to him from long ago, even though he'd been breathing the entire time. "So… you've been mine all along?"

"Something like that."

And just like that, the scary talk was over, and words were not necessary for a long time. Shuichi would be covered in hickeys come morning, and K would yell during the photo shoot, but neither man really cared right then.

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Many months later, Shuichi found himself on the sofa, mindlessly clicking his way through the channels on TV, with the realization that he'd been doing this alone for seven nights in a row. To say that Yuki had been distant lately would have been an understatement. The two shared an apartment, but rarely saw each other. What kind words Yuki had spared when they first became exclusive, during what Shuichi came to think of as the "honeymoon period," tapered off real quick, and they were both left with a bitter taste in the back of their mouths.

One night, they sat down to a dinner that Shuichi managed to make edible, and just stared across the table at each other with the realization that neither had anything left to say. For a frightening second, Shuichi thought that he could barely recognize Yuki, but then something shifted back into place and the singer knew that it was just because the other man has been looking sad instead of haughty lately. And that made him even sadder.

There was another time a month ago, when they were having what could be considered pretty rough sex, and at the moment of climax, Yuki's name escaped Shuichi as he went to call out his lover's name.

Presently, he stared at nothing as the TV blared an infomercial about sponges or some such shit that he didn't care about.

Shuichi realized that somehow, being exclusive had killed their strange romance. But he neither knew why nor how… just felt a gut-wrenching sadness at the truthfulness of it.

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When it finally happened, Yuki wasn't the one perpetrating the deed, as Shuichi would have initially predicted. And it wasn't even with a man, as Shuichi would have definitely predicted.

It was a girl named Reira, one of Tohma and Suguru's distant cousins who Tohma had brought in one day because she was such a big fan of Bad Luck. She was introduced, and she was sweet, and had red hair and green eyes, and was nothing like Yuki. She asked if Shuichi would have a coffee with her, and she laughed a cute and self-deprecating laugh when she managed to spill her drink on her skirt. Somehow, between Shuichi's inexplicable need to simply rut and stop thinking for the first time in his life and Reira's demure request to go back to her place so that she could change into something more comfortable, they ended up on her futon with his hand up her still soiled skirt, feeling the wetness of a girl like he'd never ever thought he would, and liking it.

It was animalistic between them, and he was topping for the first time in his life.

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The first time Shuichi came home from Reira's apartment, he found Yuki making dinner in the kitchen. It was the first time he had seen Yuki away from the computer in ages, and Shuichi was suddenly bowled over by a rush of fondness at the sight of the man's back. He found his heart aching simply because Yuki was wearing an apron.

"What are you making?"

Yuki paused in his stirring and turned around. "Seafood ramen."

Shuichi cracked a smile. "That's why I smelled something fishy going on…"

A new look came into Yuki's eyes, like they were coming alive for the first time in months, and it looked like he almost returned the smile. The sight of Yuki's face was even more powerful than Yuki's back, and Shuichi didn't want to think about why, so he simply came up to the man and put his arms around him, sweet and undemanding.

"I love you… Call me when dinner's ready."

And the conversation was easy again, over Shuichi's enthusiastic slurping of his noodles, so Shuichi decided that what Yuki didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

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Shuichi had always thought that what he loved most of all was Yuki, and that what he wanted most of all was life with Yuki all to himself. He had always thought that if he had that, he would be happy no matter what else happened, and that everything in the universe would fall magically into place. The planets would align, or tiny woodland creatures would appear from out of nowhere while he was singing a song, or fantastic rainbows would jubilantly shoot out of his ass, or… something.

He guessed that he was disappointed when none of that happened, but most importantly, came to be aware of a profound fear within himself… one that he had never felt when he was in constant danger of losing the man that used to be unattainable anyway. Now the issue was that Shuichi had finally attained him, and… What if the man felt that Shuichi just wasn't enough, and that he had made a mistake? What if he felt suffocated by Shuichi's love? What if he realized that Shuichi could never be good enough for him, and had an affair on the side? At least before, Shuichi would know about the affairs… Now, now they would a dirty secret, and he hated the thought of secrets.

So because all of these doubts were driving him crazy, Shuichi had decided somewhere along the way that he would just stop thinking about it. But to do that, he had to stop feeling. Stop feeling doubtful, stop feeling scared, stop feeling happy, and most of all, stop feeling for Yuki. There was a noticeable break in his musical style that the fans noticed, and a break in his personal style that Yuki noticed.

Shuichi guessed that was when things started going irreparably wrong.

Some weeks later, while laying next to Yuki after a bout of sex with their skin cooling, he wondered in passing if it was possible to preempt his lover leaving him by leaving his lover first. This never came to pass, because Shuichi felt a painful ripping sensation in his heart at the thought of being without Yuki and shook the thought out of his head. But what ended up happening was Reira.

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On the one-year anniversary of their agreement to be exclusive, Yuki had to go and drop off his latest finished manuscript at the publishers. He had whispered in Shuichi's ear that morning the predicted release date of the new book, and he had never done that before. Shuichi guessed that Yuki wanted him to read it when it came out.

Halfway through the day, an unreasonable surge of panic swept through Shuichi at the thought of how they've been together for one year.

/Why isn't he cheating… Why's he so happy… He should've been suffocated and bailing by now… What isn't he telling me…/

Yuki wouldn't be home for another three hours, and Shuichi's hand flew to the phone to call up Reira. Shuichi needed to stop thinking. He needed to drive these thoughts out.

So it was roughly an hour later, when Shuichi was buried deep in the girl's body—that felt as familiar as Yuki's did but in a different way—that the bedroom door swung open unexpectedly to reveal the author, cheeks still reddened from the chilly outside air.

For ten unbearably endless seconds, nothing moved. Shuichi's gaze fell somewhere halfway between the girl and his lover frozen in the doorway, and he didn't dare pull out. One of the author's gloved hands gripped the doorknob, and the other held a bouquet of pink roses, each dripping with the melting snow.

Then, all at once, the world came crashing down. Shuichi jumped off of the girl and off the bed, his mouth open in an O, the words to mend the situation nonexistent. The girl started crying and buried her face in the pillows… their pillows. The flowers fell from Yuki's slackened hand, and the author's jaw slammed closed with an audible clack.

Shuichi felt his heart stop beating at the glimpse of the most pained look on Yuki's face, before the blond man turn away and walked out. Shuichi disconnectedly thought that he would have preferred if the other man had slammed the bedroom door, or the front door, or his face into the floor, or anything… just so that he could feel like he had destroyed the most important and wonderful thing that had ever happened to him.

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The next time he saw Yuki's face, it was on the news. It was about the release of the new book, which made Shuichi want to simply stop living at the memory of that tender morning when Yuki had told him about it.

The author had his lawyer transfer the apartment to be in Shuichi's name, all without Yuki having to set foot in it again. Shuichi, being apathetic as he was at that point, didn't change a thing about it, and lived in it with Reira.

But now, the book was coming out, and he had to prepare himself to read it.

A week later, he kicked Reira out before going out to buy the book. He wouldn't be seeing her again.

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The book was about them. It had a dedication and everything.

/To Shuichi. For everything./

Shuichi cried at that, and sat up for the next three days to read the book from beginning to finish. He cried at everything else, too. Yuki had made him into an actor with a cheesecake fetish, but still managed to fill pages upon pages with descriptions of his voice, and for that, Shuichi never thought he would stop crying.

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Bad Luck was performing in Tokyo again, and Shuichi thought in the back of his mind that this would probably be their last performance. He had no more words to weave into a story, and no more melodies to pour his sorrow out through. His fans had gotten tired of hearing the same old crap, and he didn't have the energy or the will to fake happiness again.

The singer was nearing thirty, and NG Records had found many a hot/fresh/cocky talent in the intervening years. They didn't need him, and secretly, he began to acknowledge the fact that the only reason he was still with them was the slim hope that Yuki would set foot in NG one day to visit Tohma… or something.

Shuichi had had his share of one-night stands since Yuki, but never anything more. He thought he might not ever have anything more again, and in a quietly sad way, accepted that as the most unoriginal atonement ever.

But tonight, as Hiro revved up the guitar in preparation for their opening number, Shuichi thought he saw a glimmer of gold at the back of the stadium.

His eyes focused in on it, and there he was. Yuki, with his sunglasses on, leaning against the wall, like he had almost a decade ago.

For the entire concert, Yuki remained immobile. He didn't leave. To Shuichi, he looked like he hadn't aged at all, even though he was well into his late thirties by now. Lately, the celebrity news has been buzzing with the rumor that Yuki was to be wed, and Shuichi thought it might have been Ayaka.

Hiro had seen the author, too. He kept glancing concernedly at Shuichi, and despite the tears that he could see coursing down the singer's face, all he heard through the microphone was a clear, strong voice, filled with an emotion that hadn't been there in ages.

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After what Shuichi now knew with certainty was their farewell concert, he found Yuki waiting for him in the dressing room. The blond man looked at him levelly as he came in through the mirror on the opposite wall while standing with his back to the door.

"God… Yuki…" Shuichi didn't dare move other than to shut the door behind him, for fear that the other man would disappear.

A quirk of the lips, reminiscent of way back in the beginning, wry and cynical. "I'm not that heavenly... although you certainly are that low in comparison." He wasn't pulling the punches, apparently.

Shuichi almost did double over. He could only manage a feeble, "Yes." He was less than the dirt that Yuki walked on.

The smile, jaded as it was, left Yuki's face then. "I'm getting married."

Shuichi nodded. "I heard on the news. Who?"

"Ayaka." Ah, so he was right. Somehow, he didn't feel satisfied at being right about these things. "The old man brought it up on his deathbed. I obliged."

Shuichi hadn't known that Yuki's father had passed away. Mika and Tatsuha had long since stopped updating him on things like this. "I'm so sorry…"

"For my father's death or for cheating on me?" Yuki's golden eyes speared through him, even through the mirror.

Shuichi did double over then. He had to drop onto his knees, as they buckled… as dramatic as that was. "For… Everything." His answers were short and choppy. He couldn't seem to get too many words out past the gigantic lump in his throat, but his eyes remained stubbornly dry, as if they wouldn't let him have the satisfaction of crying remorsefully—and perhaps repentantly—in front of his ex-lover.

The author seemed to have found the fact that his words mirrored the book dedication so long ago funny, because he started chuckling. He looked down for a second at his hands on the dressing room table, and when he looked up, Shuichi wanted to die at the sight of tears in his beautiful golden eyes. They made them sparkle painfully… like stars weeping.

"Why, Shuichi?" His voice hitched on the singer's name.

Shuichi couldn't take it anymore. He crawled as fast as he could to the other man and threw his arms tightly around the author's knees. His thought his chest was so tight he might burst, so he opened his mouth before he died or something. What came out was a strained, "Fuck."

The silence wasn't complete, and was filled with labored breaths from both of them. Shuichi had more to say, and he drew together the remains of his composure in order to answer Yuki's question. He owed him so much more than that.

"I was afraid… Because I never saw you smile anymore, even a little… That you were going to leave me… I l-loved you desperately. Love you desperately. And I don't know, I was crazy, but I thought that if I left you somehow first… And then we became happier… And… But that was stupid…" He could barely catch his breath, and he could feel that Yuki was shaking. Or maybe that was himself, he wasn't sure.

A hand settled on the top of his head. Not from understanding, or forgiveness, Shuichi knew… just out of the sheer inability to withstand seeing someone one loved hurting. Then Yuki bent a little and lifted Shuichi to his feet by his armpits, so that he could look into his face properly. Shuichi saw another tear slip out of the other man's eye, and felt and answering one on his own cheek.

Yuki said, "Yeah, you were stupid… I would have never left you."

The regret was going to drown Shuichi, the singer was sure of it. And just when he thought he couldn't surface for breath anymore, the blond writer crushed his lips to Shuichi's, giving him his life back in a kiss.

All of a sudden, it was ten years ago, and hands and mouths were everywhere at once. The urgency was for nothing at all, because neither men were going anywhere, and all there was between them was love and love and love. The pain was pushed into the corner, where it would still be later, waiting to claim their lives, but for now, they would forget.

Shuichi had inexplicably grown taller, and now he was the one pushing aggressively at Yuki's clothes. Yuki was just as eager, guiding them backwards onto the small couch in the dressing room, and easing himself onto it lengthwise. Shuichi could feel Yuki's fingers peel off his shirt and pants, all the while keeping their lips and tongues meshed together as if their lives depended on it—and perhaps it did.

The singer reached between them and grasped the bulge that was starting to form between Yuki's legs and gave it a firm squeeze, feeling it twitch beneath his hand. His tears had ended, but he could still feel wetness on the other's face, one seeping out every now and then, so he set about making them stop by making Yuki feel the most intense pleasure he could give him.

He murmured a quick, "Love, let me…" before trailing his lips down to Yuki's jawline, and then his ears. He nibbled there, knowing that it was the most sensitive spot on the blond man's body, and then moved to the hard nipples sensitized by the cool air of the dressing room. Shuichi laved them thoroughly, somehow more confident in his ministrations than he had been in any of their encounters while they were together, but he didn't want to think how he had gotten that way. In turn, Yuki was beneath him, gasping as silently as he could manage, his hands buried in the singer's hair, compulsively tightening in rhythm to the singer's tongue movements.

It was strange, this reversal of roles after so many years, but somehow neither stopped it.

When Shuichi later filled Eiri with one smooth stroke, the writer groaned out a loud, "Ughn!" and wrapped his arms tightly about Shuichi's shoulders. It was the tightest heat grasping at Shuichi's cock, and he thought he might either pass out or come from it, but he did neither as he began to move slowly but tenderly in and out of the older man.

"Eiri… fuck… tight! Oh!" And he managed to keep himself from coming only by pulling out of Eiri halfway and holding still for half a beat.

This time, as he pushed into Eiri again, the writer sobbed and yelled out his name as Shuichi's cock found the other man's prostate. There was a time when this would have been Shuichi's dearest wish and Yuki's greatest fear, but now, it only seemed natural, for a reason that neither were prepared to face until the sex was over. But it hadn't been just sex, almost ever, even with Yuki topping, and this fact, Shuichi was only going to let sink in after the sex was over as well.

They found their rhythm, with Shuichi on top, holding Eiri's ankles over both their heads and him planting occasional passionate kisses to the back of Eiri's knees, which he was now discovering to be unbearably pretty. And just like this, Shuichi was nearing completion, and he shifted one hand to grasp Eiri's erection, which had been leaking onto the writer's stomach, and began pumping it time to his strokes.

"Close… Eiri, oh, fuck… Close… Coming!" And he was, shooting his essence into his lover's body, while the man on his back let the sensation of being filled push him over the precipice as well, and shot pearly strands of white all over their stomachs and Shuichi's hand.

As the aftershocks wore off, Shuichi collapsed onto Eiri with a sigh, and showered tired kisses along the stretch of his neck before burying his face there. "Always love you… Yuki…"

Arms came around him as a kiss was planted on top of his sweaty head, and Shuichi felt it even as he was still buried inside Yuki, that this was their goodbye. And all of a sudden, all of the things that they didn't let themselves feel and become aware of while making love to each other crashed down, and Shuichi knew that Yuki was giving this last thing to him because they would never again see the other.

During all of their years together, with Yuki being cold, with Shuichi cheating, with Yuki cheating before that… Yuki had never seen fit to allow Shuichi this. The pink-haired boy had never seen fit to ask for it either. And maybe that was why he sought it in someone else, control and the feeling of being on top. The confidence of being the one to call the shots, and the one leaving instead of the other way around.

Shuichi pulled out of his once-lover, before collecting the other within his arms in a desperate embrace. And then he cried like he had while reading the book, maybe harder, and Yuki might've cried with him.

And after, Yuki got dressed and left. No words of goodbye. Just the knowledge of what they shared then, and what they shared long ago floating between them, dissipating as Yuki walked away and Shuichi's dressing room cooled once again.

Shuichi never saw Yuki again. On the day that he knew Yuki would be marrying Ayaka, Shuichi calmly sat down in the bedroom of the apartment they had once shared together, and downed an entire bottle of sleeping pills along with a bottle of vodka.

He didn't cry as he died. Only hoped that some decades later, he would meet the other man again on the other side of eternity, and this time, he wouldn't fuck it up.

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Author's Notes: Shuichi is deeply flawed in this story. I intended it that way, and I'm sorry if that's not how people see him. I saw the possibility that his co-dependence speaks to deep insecurities, and I ran with it.

Also, the name switches from Yuki to Eiri halfway through the story, and this was intentional as well. Eiri was his childhood name, when he was in love and quite submissive to Kitazawa. It was fitting that when he finally submitted to Shuichi, that Shuichi saw him for his true self as well… that Eiri was not this control-freak, and had been simply in love with him (as he had been with Kitazawa) for the longest time, without Shuichi having realized it. Yuki was just a construct, made to protect the writer. And when he let his guard down to be Eiri again, he was most vulnerable. But through being with Shuichi those first wonderful years, he could have been healed, and while Shuichi did hurt him, he didn't destroy him, and with that, Eiri was able to move on past Shuichi, and live… while Shuichi was more brittle than anyone thought, and died.

Hope you all liked… Please review:)

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