Drievuldigheid - Drie Samen

Smiling happily, Shuichi made his way back to the studio. He couldn’t really believe he’d just done that, but he didn’t regret it. It was a refreshing change. No worries about what was coming or what had happened. It was very liberating. Bouncing into the studio, his good mood evaporated as he flopped boneless against the wall with a thud, breaking apart his bandmates. The bandmates who, a moment ago, had shown no objection to shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. While normally the sight of two pretty guys kissing wasn’t objectionable (even if one of them was his best friend) this particular vision was confounding. It was Suguru! And even getting past that—difficult as it was—what about Ayaka?

A hand waved in front of his face. “Shuichi? What is it? Did something happen while you were with Seguchi-san?”

He blinked at his guitarist, ignoring the blush that threatened his face at the mention of Tohma. “Hiro? What were you two doing?”

The redhead blinked at him. “Umm…kissing?”

Shuichi scowled. “Really? I couldn’t tell! Why were you kissing each other?”

Hiro raised an eyebrow and just looked at him. The singer sighed and slumped. “How long?”

“Almost two months.” Suguru spoke, calm voice unusually grating to the singer’s ears. He wanted to ask about Ayaka, but wouldn’t do it in front of the keyboardist. Fortunately, K’s arrival—he’d been missing again?—saved him as they were set back to recording. The look he shot at Hiro promised a talk, and he felt rather superior to be the one in the scolding position for once.

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Ryuichi ran to catch the closing doors and pulled out his cell phone. His preparations were taking longer than he’d expected, so he needed more time. He’d tell Tohma to take Shu-chan out to eat after work. That gave him until at least 8 o’clock. That should be late enough for him to have everything ready.

As he pushed through the throngs of people, a flash of gold crossed his vision. He turned his head, but whoever it had been was gone.

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Shuichi pulled Hiro aside as they went to leave. Suguru had a bit more packing up to do, and the guitarist was obviously waiting for him. “Talk.”

His friend looked at him and sighed. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

“When did it start? How did it start? Start there!”

Hiro tried to puzzle through the demands. “It started about two months ago. As for how… well, we’d been talking a lot—Don’t look at me like that, he’s not as bad as you make him out to be. It just happened.”

“But...but, it’s Suguru!” He spluttered over the name, gesturing wildly toward the other room where the teen still remained.

He settled a bit more under his friend’s scolding gaze. “You don’t know him. You two decided from the beginning to hate each other. Don’t interrupt. You’d like each other, if you could learn to get along.”

“You can’t learn to get along!”

“Yes, you can. You’ve gone from being frightened of his cousin to feeling the complete opposite in a matter of days.”

The redhead’s words gave him pause. Had it really only been days? He supposed it had. Less than a week. It was a sobering thought. He shook his head, pulling himself back on track. “That’s so different, it doesn’t count!”

Hiro smiled wryly. “Admittedly, I don’t think the same method of learning tolerance is applicable here, but the point remains the same.”

Shuichi remained silent, pouting down at his feet.

“You’re not really angry about us being together, are you?”

The gentler tone brought his head up. “Well, no, not really. But… you didn’t tell me! And…I mean, I still thought you and Ayaka…”

Hiro sighed. “Ayaka and I broke up about four months ago, and we hadn’t been serious for a long while before that. I didn’t tell you because you were in enough trouble with Yuki.”

“And you didn’t tell me about Suguru because I didn’t even know about Ayaka.”

Hiro smiled at him apologetically. “Are you alright with it?”

“Yeah…I just… I’ll talk to you later, okay? I need to go think about what has happened to turn every guy around me, even the heterosexual ones, gay.”

His flippant remark earned him a frown.

“What? You can’t argue that’s it’s not true!” K, Sakano, Hiro, Suguru… at least two of them had been undeniably straight six months ago…so far as was obvious, at least.

Shaking his head, Hiro shooed him away. “Go home. Go to Tohma. Go to Ryuichi. Go to a bar. Just go.”

Offended by the obvious dismissal, Shuichi pouted as he went towards the elevator.

“That was a rather calm exchange, I think.”

Hiro turned at the voice behind him, smiling at the younger boy who’d been listening in. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, you know.”

“You knew I was there.” The unashamed admittance to the crime made the redhead laugh as they followed Shuichi’s path.

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About to barge through the front exit to get home and change clothes—he’d been wearing these for two days after all—he was intercepted by a secretary.

“Shindou-san! The president requested you wait for him here.” She was polite, even as she blocked his exit.

“Why?”

She appeared taken aback by his blunt questioning. “I do not know why, but he did say he would not be long. Perhaps you’d care to take a seat?” She none-too-subtly led him towards a nearby chair.

He struggled from her grasp. “I think I’ll go to the restroom. If he comes down before I get back, please tell him where I’ve gone.” He dashed off, leaving the poor secretary looking frightened at the prospect of losing her quarry.

Wandering along the hallways, Shuichi wondered why Tohma wanted him to wait. He really did need to get home soon. Maybe he’d ask for a ride?

“Shuichi.”

He’d stopped in front of one of the elevators, leaning against the wall opposite it. The murmur of his name made him open his eyes in surprise, seeing Yuki for the first time in 12 weeks. “Yuki?”

“How are you?” The writer stepped nearer to him, eyes focused on his face.

“F-fine…you?” The scrutiny was making him nervous. Why was he watching him so… carefully?

“Better.” He stepped forward again, now within reach.

Better? What did that mean? It was certainly as cryptic as ever. “Better than what?” He cringed at how inane he sounded. The first time trying to talk to his ex-lover as a normal person, and he was just as bad at it as ever.

“Better than I was.” The golden eyes darkened as he reached up to stroke along the singer’s cheek.

Uh-oh. Yuki was close. Too close… it allowed a bit too much access, should he try something. Not that he would. Shuichi reminded himself he was probably overreacting because of the recent developments in his personal life. Yuki and he had split. The writer had always told him he was a pain, and he wouldn’t be wanting that back…right?

Feeling trapped when the blond moved forward, Shuichi stepped backward, but found himself stuck and pressed flat against a wall. This was not good. What was Yuki doing? Forcing himself to focus on the eyes peering down at him, Shuichi gulped. That expression looked very familiar. When they’d been together, it was a welcome one. Now, despite every cell in him screaming to pull away, he remained still and pliant as Yuki leaned down to kiss him.

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Tohma stepped out into the lobby. Eiri had never shown up for their meeting—the one he’d called for—but the president really didn’t feel like waiting today. Not when he had strict instructions from his singer to entertain the younger of his lovers until late evening. This meant Eiri would have to come another day. Smiling bemusedly, he pushed thoughts of the writer from his mind, looking around for BAD LUCK’s singer.

The smile fell away as he saw him, sitting nervously on a bench outside. There was something wrong, and Tohma felt himself grow tense as he approached the upset figure. “Shuichi?”

He saw the vacant eyes, and knew that all of Ryuichi’s plans for this evening were ruined. Shuichi was not acting right. “What—“

“Can you take me home?” The question was rushed, pained.

Startled, he merely nodded. Whatever had happened had affected the boy, badly. They walked toward the car, Shuichi sliding his hand along the side of the building as if looking for something to cling to. He slipped suddenly and Tohma gripped his elbow, letting go quickly when he flinched as if struck.

They slid into the plush interior of the vehicle, the singer turning to look out the window to avoid the keyboardist’s gaze. “Care to tell me what’s occurred?”

“Not really.” The reply was terse, but underneath the irritation were apprehension and anguish.

Nodding shortly, the president pulled the car into traffic as he debated whether to have Ryuichi handle it or talk to the younger himself. Sighing, he tried once more. “Shuichi—“

“Please just leave me alone!” It was a wounded cry, desperate in its intensity and tormented eyes focused on him briefly before the passenger pulled his knees up to his chest and curled away from him.

Feeling completely out of his depth, Tohma remained silent as they arrived and Shuichi ran from the car as if fleeing. Ryuichi would not be happy, but the implications of that paled in comparison to his current confusion.

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AN:

Okay, so it's been a while, huh:insert sheepish look:

As far as plot... again, so not deliberate. I wanted to write a sex scene. I should've written a sex scene. But I can't write a sex scene. The ability's bid its farewells and deserted me. So you get plot until it comes back. And no, the lack of sex inspiration isn't why it took so long. That was just me being lazy.