Pocky and Promises

Chapter 1: Angels and Alcohol

Disclaimer: No, I do not own Gravitation, I only own this plot line na do na. (Eek, apparently I've been reading/watching a little too much Gravitation lately if I'm starting to talk like Ryuichi….)

Nineteen-year-old Shindou Shuichi was utterly exhausted. Around midnight, even K, the Energizer bunny from hell with an abnormal infatuation for weapons, had succumbed to the lure of sleep. At that point, Shuichi had believed them to be in the clear, but no, damn Fujisaki Suguru had to step in and take his place, driving the other members of Bad Luck in his stead. Four hours later, Shuichi, hoarse from singing so long, and eyes watery and blood shot, had confiscated one of the guns on K's person, and in a steady voice, leveled it to face his younger band mate and spoke in a considerably sane voice given the time of night.

"Fujisaki-san, " Shuichi began in an unnervingly polite way, "we are going to stop practicing right now, and I am going to go home and cuddle in bed with Yuki. If you make any protests, or any attempts to stop me, I'm afraid," here Shuichi paused, placing the gun against Suguru's trembling lips, "I'm afraid that I'll have to kill you, and leave you for Seguchi-san to sort out in the morning. Do I make myself clear?" he asked, tilting his shocking pink head to the side, leaving no room for argument.

Staring at a delusional Shuichi with one of K's guns at his mouth, Suguru really had no choice in the matter. For while his cousin was capable of anything, his ability to resurrect the dead had not yet been tested, and personally, Suguru did not wish to be the first, therefore, he smiled as best he could with the barrel of a gun to his lips, and nudged it away carefully before nodding and backing away slowly from the crazy man with the gun. Although he dearly wanted to run like there was a rabid dog, or in this case, rabid Shuichi on his tail, he knew that his only chance was to be very slow and cautious; everyone knew that running only attracted the attention of rabid Shuichi's.

With the retreat of Suguru, Shuichi sighed and returned the gun to its place with K, grateful that the American man had not woken. K tended to be very protective of his "children." Shuichi now regarded the last member of their band, Nakano Hiroshi.

"Care to give me a ride back to Yuki's, ne Hiro?" Shuichi asked, stretching his sore muscles.

Hiro's eyebrow twitched, but then he smiled and shrugged, removing his jacket as well as Shuichi's from the chair back in the recording room.

"Don't you think you could have gone a little easier on Suguru though, Shuichi?" Hiro asked as they approached the elevator, stepping inside when the dismal chime alerted them to the arrival of the device.

Shuichi rolled his lovely violet eyes, and reached into his pocket to withdraw a stick of strawberry pocky from the box, placing it in his mouth. "Are you saying you wanted to stay here until it was time to come back? Even Seguchi-san left to go home, I'd say enough is enough," here he paused to regard his best friend." Hiro, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were concerned about Suguru," he gasped, and playfully jabbed the red-headed guitarist in the ribs," Hiro, have you been keeping a secret from me? You like Suguru!" he half-shouted, giggling like a conspiring schoolgirl.

Hiro stared blankly at his friend of many years, before placing a hand on the side of Shuichi's head against the wall of the elevator, and leaning a little closer. "Now Shuichi, what ever would give you that idea?" he asked, breaking off an end of the pocky in Shuichi's mouth, and licking the candy before eating a piece himself. "You know you're the only one for me," he finished, kissing Shuichi's cheek fondly, vastly amused when Shuichi began to panic.

"H-hiro, you know you're my best friend, but I love Yuki!" the vocalist protested, blushing like mad and baffled by his friend's behavior.

Hiro drew back with a grin. "You know I'm just messing with you Shuichi."

Shuichi shook his head, "It's too early for this stuff Hiro," he mumbled, and they reached the ground level of N-G, stepping out into the lobby, each pulling their jackets tighter upon opening the main glass double doors and being greeted by the suddenly harsh wind of Tokyo.

They made haste to Hiro's motorcycle, putting on helmets, and Shuichi all but clung to his best friend's back as the redhead zipped down the deserted streets. A few near misses aside, it was a rather uneventful trip, and Shuichi dozed lightly until they reached Yuki's apartment complex.

Hiro brought the bike to a halt, nudging the vocalist awake. Shuichi stretched and got off slowly.

"See you tomorrow," he muttered.

"Or rather later today," Hiro supplied.

"Don't remind me," Shuichi groaned, "if they expect us in at eight-thirty they've got another thing coming. Ja."

"Good night," Hiro said before donning the helmet again, stowing Shuichi's for later use, and heading home.

Shuichi stumbled up the stairs, slightly tripping as he went, and cursed under his breath as he searched for the key in his pocket. Everything became a royal production when you were exhausted, he mused, finally locating the key and opening the door on silent hinges. He felt a little uncomfortable, as he'd been unable to call and warn Yuki of the maniacs he had to work under, but surely the novelist would understand. Seguchi-san was his brother-in-law after all. Besides, he reasoned as he stepped out of his shoes and re-locked the door behind him, if Yuki had been worried, he would only have needed to call the blonde president to discover Shuichi's whereabouts. He chuckled softly, Yuki, worry, now that was an amusing thought.

Shuichi drug himself into the bathroom, eager to brush his teeth and sleep for the next week. Even K's death threats under fire wouldn't rouse him today. He wet his toothbrush and cleaned up with his eyes half closed, otherwise he might have seen the dim red glow of an ember reflected in the mirror.

Satisfied, Shuichi shuffled into the living room, never more pleased with the thought of the couch than tonight. He'd have dearly loved to crawl beside Yuki, but the grumpy author would be supremely pissed to be awoken at this hour. Shuichi dropped onto the cushions, ready for sleep, when he encountered something hard and, breathing? He sat up rapidly, and turned to face the spark of a burning cigarette indicating Yuki's presence. Holy crap, Yuki had waited up for him!

A small amount of energy broke through the haze over Shuichi's brain, and he attempted to hug the space where he presumed Yuki's chest to be.

"Yuki," he said, infusing what excitement into his voice that he could," I can't believe you stayed up for me. Did you miss me?" he asked, noting the smell of alcohol on the other's breath, mixed with the smoke the author exhaled like carbon dioxide.

Yuki's voice was deadly calm as he spoke, and its tone gave Shuichi a chill. "Where have you been?"

Blinking in confusion, Shuichi stuttered in response, "I was at the studio Yuki."

Tears sprang to his bleary violet eyes when Yuki simultaneously extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray, and yanked Shuichi's hair in a painful grip.

"Don't lie to me brat, where were you? I won't repeat myself again," Yuki spat, drawing the now slightly shaking Shuichi closer, sniffing his neck.

"What the hell?" Shuichi questioned, quite awake now, and trying to push Yuki away. "I told you, I was at the studio. What's wrong with you?"

The blonde snapped, shoving Shuichi into the couch. "You smell like another man's cologne. Tell me, did he fuck you like I do? Kiss you like I do?"

Shuichi shuddered. "I don't know what you're talking about. I got a ride home with Hiro like I normally do when it gets late, so if I smell like him a little it's-" he was cut off by the smack of Yuki's hand across his face.

Shocked into silence, the singer stared in disbelief at his enraged blonde lover. He had never seen Yuki so angry. Shuichi touched his enflamed cheek, and attempted to get away. With a snarl, Yuki grabbed Shuichi's arm and threw him to the floor, effectively pinning him beneath his greater strength and weight. Shuichi heard, and felt, a sickening snap when his shoulder was dislocated, and cried out in pain when Yuki's weight was wedged against it.

"Stop it Yuki, you're hurting me!" he shouted, afraid of his lover for the first time.

Yuki fisted a hand in Shuichi's pink hair, and forced him to face the irrational novelist. "Hurting you?" he asked, his other hand pressing hard into Shuichi's chest. "I haven't even shown you pain yet," he growled, before attacking Shuichi's lips with bruising force.

Shuichi never knew he could be afraid of a kiss, but he was scared shitless. Yuki bit his lower lip so hard that it bled, and Shuichi whimpered when he felt the other's tongue lapping at the mix of blood and tears running freely down his face.

"I knew you liked it rough," Yuki whispered, turning his attention to Shuichi's neck, biting down until he heard the smaller man yelp. He was hard as a rock. He had Shuichi completely under his control. He could break him, and break him he did.

His hands were brutal and were everywhere until Shuichi began hitting his fists against Yuki's chest, sobbing, begging for him to stop, and that he loved him. At that point, three things happened. Yuki paused, and clasped both of Shuichi's wrists in one of his hands, jerked the pink haired boy's pants and boxers down in one swift motion, and he sneered.

"Yeah kid, I love you too," as Yuki thrust into Shuichi without warning or any lubrication. He hissed a sharp reprimand when Shuichi screamed, and promptly clamped his free hand over his younger lover's mouth. "The only thing I want to hear from you, is what I tell you to say, got it punk?"

Shuichi could only nod his head meekly; unable to comprehend that this was happening to him, again, let alone by the man who had comforted him before. Was that it then? Did Yuki really only see him as a possession, his own personal whore? Because that was the conclusion Shuichi was rapidly approaching as the world he had known crashed down around him, split asunder like his heart, and his ass.

Oh god. But he wouldn't let himself think right now. If he was going to survive this, he had to keep his mind empty. A sharp sting across his other cheek got his attention and he gasped in pain again. He could taste fresh blood welling up in his mouth, and vaguely wondered if Yuki had knocked any of his teeth loose. Shuichi turned blank lavender eyes to regard Yuki, forcing himself not to cry.

"Answer me when I'm talking to you moron!" Yuki shouted, his exclamation punctuated by a particularly rough thrust into the agonized body beneath him.

"Gomen nasai," Shuichi replied, lower lip trembling.

Smack. "Gomen nasai Yuki-sama," he tried again.

The smile that turned up the corners of Yuki's lips made Shuichi's skin crawl. "Better," he said, dropping Shuichi's aching wrists. He knew that Shuichi wouldn't fight anymore. One vise-like hand cupped the base of the pink-haired head, giving Shuichi no alternative but to obey, and look his currently deranged boyfriend in his hard, golden eyes. The other slid down his heaving sides to his hips, pulling him closer, before locking in place, giving Yuki more leverage to further abuse his screaming body.

"Say it," Yuki whispered harshly.

"I love you," Shuichi said emotionlessly, and received a quick tug on his hair.

"Make me believe you."

"I love you Yuki," Shuichi cried, wishing he might have blacked out before any of this began.

"Good. Whom do you belong to?" Yuki rasped above him.

"I belong to you. I'm yours Yuki-sama."

"Damn right you do you little slut. Now move that pretty ass of yours like a good boy," the blonde ordered, on the edge now it seemed by the frenzied motion of his wild hips.

Choking back a sob, and the bile that came with it, Shuichi did as he was told, shifting his hips the way that Yuki always liked. He stared at the ceiling in detached repulsion as Yuki came violently into him before collapsing on top of his battered form. Directly after slipping out, Yuki fell unconscious.

The only good thing that Shuichi could think of, was that now that Yuki had passed out, he wouldn't wake up no matter what Shuichi himself might do. Carefully, he disengaged himself from the tangle of arms and legs that was Yuki Eiri, and gingerly pulled his underwear and pants on before frantically trying to find his jacket, cell phone, wallet, and keys. Yuki hadn't bothered to remove his shirt during the violation of Shuichi's person and mind. He had a grim feeling that a trip to the hospital would be in order.

Shuichi struggled to get outside, wondering why he locked the door behind him. He didn't even put his shoes on inside the apartment; he simply carried them as he walked in a daze. He bumped into something, no, someone, and when he tried to apologize, he slipped on some slick surface, and tumbled down the first flight of stairs. Before his head could smack against the tile, however, a pair of arms caught him, and his head landed in the stranger's lap instead. Horrified blue eyes skimmed his face, and a voice called out to him, a voice he knew.

"Hospital, onegai," Shuichi pleaded, grasping at the white shirt beneath the brown leather jacket of the man above him, some of the pain lessening as everything but that face and those eyes went out of focus, and faded to a world of black and gray.

Holy crap, well that marks the end of the first chapter of my first ever Gravitation fanfiction; I should get a cookie for that. Please bare that fact in mind as we continue through this story, okay? And as a side note, I do like Yuki, really I do, but for this I just need him to be dark, and crazy, and abusive. Now, who could the mysterious stranger be? . I guess we'll see next chapter, ne?