A First Time for Everything

The digits on the clock seemed to change about as slowly as his mind was eager to lie to rest what consequences it seemed his actions over the last couple of days had caused.

4:03 in the morning. Wasn’t it 4:03 twenty minutes ago?

Erie Uesugi, or rather Erie Yuki as his countless novels proclaimed-Yuki to the damned brat that reminded him all too painfully of what he used to be-rubbed his hand over his face in defeat.

So begins another night of mindless rewriting and half-focused character development then, I guess.

It was hardly what one would call an interesting way to kill time, but at least it would keep his mind away from other desperately lingering thoughts. He threw his legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor panels cold beneath his feet.

Coffee first, book later.

But the problem with making his usual early morning coffee-black with little sugar and in some cases, like this one, a shot of espresso-was that it kept the hands busy while still leaving the mind free to continue its wanderings. And that was something both he and his steadily increasing insomnia were determined to avoid. He decided it best to leave the coffee for now. Taking a moment to grab the first rough draft of his manuscript off the kitchen table, Yuki walked absentmindedly into his living room and took a seat on the couch, barely even pausing to turn on the light. He already knew this was a pathetic attempt at best, his stress levels so far beyond repair he was surprised he wasn’t already a raving alcoholic. He lifted the manuscript up to the light with one hand while simultaneously placing a cigarette between his lips with the other. He flicked open the lighter and inhaled deeply before reading. Human Nature was the title.

A story of two people determined to overcome whatever obstacles to be together, their bond more than love, their pull almost animalistic. Their passion instinctual.

He threw the manuscript on the coffee table, rolled his eyes and took another long drag off his cigarette. From that alone, no one would be able to tell the hero of the story was an ex con, or that the heroine died in the end after his ploy to escape the business had gone wrong. All anyone who read that would see was a love story. A smut book. He was suddenly thankful the blurb hadn’t been his doing, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t bordering on aide for his present situation. He felt his mind wandering again and this time he let it, too exhausted to do little more than dwell, eyes unfocused and brow furrowed in disgust. At the time, all he could seem to see was the face of the annoying, pink-haired rock star wannabe ranting in front of him, blocking him from escaping with the elevator back up to his apartment. In reality, he knew it had been his fault, that he had lit the fuse that would lead to the harsh exchanging of words earlier that evening. And even more than that, probably frighteningly so, he found he could not deny the desire of it, the greedy almost primitive longing. It no longer mattered how many times he told himself that it had been no more than a ploy to shut the kid up. The truth of the matter was, when left alone with his thoughts, as the case had unfortunately become, he found he could still feel the boy’s lips on his own. It was no more than the ghost of a sensation, a subtle tingling that caused him to involuntarily lick his lips before mentally slapping himself, and that meant that he’d gotten inside Yuki’s head.

Shuichi Shindo. Damn brat…

He tried to inhale another deep breath of smoke before realizing that he’d already sucked it dry. He put it out amongst other used up buts in the ashtray, rubbing absently at his temples as he lit himself another one. It was hard to imagine and even harder to admit that such a pathetic, overbearing, stray dog of a kid had somehow managed to get under his skin, but as he sat there, his elbows digging into his knees and his blond hair falling into his eyes, he knew it was undeniable. His thoughts were already locked around the ridiculously sweet smell of the brat’s hair, the way he would tear up whenever he got upset enough to go off on a tangent of ramblings and accusations usually connected in some way to him. And the way his violet colored eyes had gone wide when Yuki forced him against the wall of the elevator, his whole body tensing addictively against the kiss, his lips frozen, then soft, then responsive. Nearly as greedy as his were. All at once, and without his consent-and most certainly against his better judgment-he felt a familiar stirring below his navel, a twitch of tension that was seductive and demanding and painful all at once. The thought escaped him before he could contain it:

I want him there.

Before the repulsive delusions could develop any further, Erie Yuki stabbed his cigarette into the ashtray violently enough to cause a cloud of ash dust to puff upward for a moment before drifting scattered into little patches around it. He didn’t care enough to bother wiping it away. He groaned, rubbing at his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Now would probably be a good time for that cup of coffee…

He looked at the clock hanging on the wall right next to the kitchen, the face illuminated just barely enough for him to make out the vague slash of a minute hand before he turned off the light and got to his feet. It was barely 4:18.

It was nearly time for the show to start, and Yuki’d chosen to stand as far back from the stage as possible, not wanting to risk being seen by his brother-in-law, let alone the reason for his being there. He told himself it was to get him out of his head, to see what was so special about this concert he had been so determined to make Yuki come to, but it was hard to deny how strong the urge to come had been. Even when attached to a perfectly understandable reason, he’d been drawn in too easily. Wouldn’t he have normally brushed off a request like this without another thought? Wouldn’t the idea have normally seemed boring and a waste of his time? If it had been anyone else, wouldn’t he have just ignored the request all together and forget about it?

So then why was I struggling so damn hard with the idea of staying home?

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the wall, listening instead to the sounds of eager fans and groupies testing sound equipment. Anything to fill his mind with something less likely to give him a headache.

“Good evening!” Came an all too familiar voice from the stage. “ASK will be out here shortly, but first, we are going to rock you!” Yuki opened his eyes, staring blankly and what he hoped was without interest out towards the band of two taking their place under the spotlight. “We are BAD LUCK!” The crowd’s reaction was less than enthusiastic; Yuki couldn’t help but smirk. “Aw, come on, don’t worry. We’re just as good as ASK. Maybe even better.” Suddenly, Shuichi could be seen leaning into the mic, fired up and determined. He really did adopt a different atmosphere when he was on stage, Yuki couldn’t deny that, but it still didn’t explain the kid’s fascination with him. “All I ask is that you give us a chance. Hey! This is our debut!” Yuki kept his eyes on the boy, searching, hoping to find something, anything that would make his trek down here, against all reasoning, even mildly worth it, but besides the almost mesmerizing way Shuichi tried to fire up the audience, he was left with nothing. Just a growing sense of frustration. “Okay now, here we go! Playing for the first time anywhere, the Rage Beat!” Yuki crossed his arms over his chest and waited for the infamous love song that had started this whole disaster, but no ear piercing bass rang from the speakers. Shuichi didn’t even open his mouth. All Yuki could do was try not to cringe as he made the connection: he’d been seen. The crowd grew increasingly more irritable, Shuichi equally as frozen, and eventually, all he could do was mumble in embarrassment. This was going nowhere.

I shouldn’t have come… Pathetic.

Before he could even turn towards the door, however, a new voice, a voice he’d heard before by association thanks to his brother-in-law’s high standing in the music business, echoed throughout the room. The sound of a pitiful brat being saved just in the nick of time.

Leave it to Ryuichi to fix things. Shuichi’s future is set now. I hope Seguchi knows what he’s getting himself into.

After a few moments of reintroducing the boy-as well as reinstating his potential-Shuichi finally started singing, and out of reflex, Yuki closed his eyes again, listening. The words were trivial, there was no denying that. It was that fact that had led him to Shuichi in the first place. And while it was beyond him to try and impress a writer of Yuki’s standing, something about the song drew him in. The tune? No. The tune was strong, rhythmic, but hardly original. The arrangement? Mediocre. And yet, still, something about it was addicting. It was as if he was the song itself, releasing himself into the audience.

I have to admit. He has potential. But he’ll need more than that. A lot more.

“You’ve never accepted any of my invitations to the Club House, Erie.” His brother-in-law appeared at his side, wrenching him from his train of thought. Yuki stuck his hands in his pockets, making a point not to look the man in the eye, staring instead, though only half heartedly, at the stage. “Change your mind?” Yuki winced, hating the way he knew Seguchi could simply look through him, into him. Back to the memories he’d tried so hard to repress. He shrugged, turning away from him and towards the door, the final note of Shuichi’s song ringing throughout the club. The audience cheered. “I just had some time I needed to waste, that’s all.” Yuki replied with as much stoicism as he had before walking towards the door, not waiting for Seguchi’s response. He paused to take one last glance at the giddy, beaming annoyance of a damn brat who was soon to be the cause of all his problems… and their solutions… before making his unnoticed exit.

How many times was this going to happen before he could muster the intelligence to escape? This was only going to end badly for the both of them and he knew that, but still. Seeing Shuichi standing before him, vulnerable and timid and so unlike what he’d come to understand as his fiery and enthusiastic self, was almost too much. Shuichi looked out of Yuki’s apartment window, his voice soft and nervous. Fragile, breakable. “I didn’t think you’d come to see me.” He whispered, looking back up at the blond haired man with the piercing and secretive eyes who had stolen his heart. “Yuki…” His eyes shimmered with tears not quite fallen, and before he could stop himself, Yuki reached out and placed his hand on the boy’s face, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Shuichi let his face rest against that hand almost desperately, his words escaping him as if he were out of breath. “I don’t understand you.” He said, their eyes locking for the first time. Yuki hated himself, this was true, but in that hatred was a lust he couldn’t ignore, and seeing Shuichi so adorably cute in the glow of the moonlight coming through the window of his apartment, he realized he didn’t want to. He’d regret this later, but right now was all that mattered. And still… “I don’t understand you.” Yuki whispered back, leaning closer, his eyes half closed and his voice dripping sensuality in baritone. “What could you possibly want from me?” And with that, words escaped them both, their lips touching cautiously at first, then deeply, the kiss growing more desperate as Yuki led the boy to the floor.

“Yu-Yuki…” Shuichi whispered in the fragment of time where their lips were not connected, his body trembling beneath the man who was about to change his life forever. The name echoed between them. A plea. Yuki shivered at the sound, the almost pleasant twitch of his member growing into an uncomfortable throb, his pants suddenly too tight. Clothes in general, too restricting. A guttural, hungry growl escaped him in response, the boy gasping as Yuki’s tongue then teeth found his throat, licking then nipping down to his collarbone. The sensation was almost too much for Shuichi to bear, his eyelids fluttering as his head fell back with a moan. Yuki smirked.

He won’t last long.

Which was just fine for the sexually competent, playboy novelist. Let the brat finish early for all he cared. In the end, it was his own desire that really mattered. But still, seeing Shuichi practically writhing with pleasure, his hips bucking subconsciously beneath him, was hypnotizing. Tantalizing. Seductive in and of itself. The grin that followed the thought was tantamount to one thing: he simply wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d make the boy come as much as he could stand. And then he’d make him come again.

The fear and desire in Shuichi’s eyes as Yuki’s hand found its way beneath his waistband was enough to make Yuki rock hard… if he hadn’t been already. The boy’s trembling became suddenly fluid, flowing into gyrations against this newfound friction with a released sort of vigor. “Yu-ahh…” Shuichi hissed, fingers grasping at nothing, eyes shut tight. Yuki’s breath became ragged; he’d never seen someone look so hot, so… tempting. To think it would be this kid. This wannabe rock star with no regard for personal boundaries. This… this damn brat! But while he’d never admit it, the repulsion in himself at this moment was miniscule in comparison to the overwhelming need that racked his abruptly aching body. Again, much like early that morning, Yuki’s thoughts swirled around one thing and one thing only.

I want him there.

But first, he had the brat’s needs to take care of, to prepare him for what was to come. Moving his hand in a careful, teasingly slow up down motion, Yuki smirked at the boy’s tension-filled spasms. “Yu-ki… You c-can’t… I’m g-gonna-” Shuichi bucked harshly, his whole body quaking beneath Yuki’s, even the subtle movements making Yuki dizzy with longing. Already long past reason and rationale, Yuki forced his lips to the boy’s, his tongue delving deep and without permission, searching along molars and the roof of his mouth, chuckling against him when he shivered, desperate for a breath Yuki would not allow. Then, when he could feel Shuichi was at the brink of insanity, he increased his hand’s steady rhythm and broke the kiss, redirecting his focus to the boy’s ear, nibbling through the grunted demand, “Come for me.” He let the tip of his tongue trail from Shuichi’s earlobe down his neck, relishing in the goosebumps that rose there. He pumped his fist once more, adding roughly, “You damn brat.”

Shuichi’s release was expected, but it didn’t diminish the sick thrill that rushed through Yuki, settling into a more prominent throb in his need, Shuichi’s panting and whimpering only adding to that aching pulse for his own release. “Damn, you look adorable when you come.” He heard himself grunt as he rocked back onto his heels to undo his shirt, his fingers sticky and shaking slightly with anticipation. Shuichi sat up slightly, his face burning a shade of pink so bright it could be seen even in the dim lighting provided only by the moon. “Yuki, I-” But Yuki wouldn’t have it. Before the boy could finish his apology, embarrassment clear in his eyes, Yuki pulled roughly at his shirt, yanking it over Shuichi’s mussed pink hair and tossing it haphazardly across the room where it vanished alongside his own. Lowering his mouth to the boy’s pale, shivering chest, he began licking in swirling patterns over the flesh, stopping only to encircle the hard and begging nipples first with tongue than with lips, twisting one between the tips of his fingers while nibbling teasingly at the other until Shuichi’s hard-on was nearly visible again beneath his jeans. Yuki smirked, kissing the boy’s sweating stomach down to his bellybutton before stopping at his waistband. Shuichi could practically sense Yuki’s intention, sitting up in alarm just in time to watch Yuki undoing the zipper with his teeth. Shuichi swallowed, licking his lips absently at the hypnotizing sight. Within moments, Yuki’s pants had become the only item of clothing that remained on either person, Shuichi lying helpless, hungry, and nude beneath the desire-driven novelist. “You c-can’t…” Shuichi panted, his eyes half closed but somehow still wild as he watched Yuki traveling further downward. Yuki returned the gaze in full, his eyes blazing with his own unyielding desire. “I’m not through with you yet, you damn brat.” He snapped, but the grin on his face and the sensuality of his tone contradicted the order and the insult in a way that made Shuichi twitch with yearning. Keeping his eyes always on the boy, savoring each tremble, each stutter, Yuki greedily swallowed Shuichi’s arousal to the hilt, letting his tongue trail upward on his way back to the surface, a nip to the head making the boy yelp in surprise. Shuichi began bucking desperately against the blond haired sex-god, his hand finding its way onto the back of Yuki’s head, a motion that stopped the man cold. He released the boy from his mouth with a pop, an audible groan escaping Shuichi as the cold air hit his shaft. “Wh-Why…?” He gasped, leaning forward suddenly, his eyes searching for what he’d done wrong. And while Yuki was quick to play it off as nothing more than prolonging the boy’s erection enough to fulfill his own need, the reality of it was simple: He was in control, not the pathetic brat. He was in complete control of himself and the situation. He could stop and go on with his life at any moment. And he would. Tomorrow.

Yuki’s grin grew almost evil as he stripped himself of the final barrier between his pleasure and the boy’s, tossing his pants into a corner somewhere and crawling towards Shuichi with what looked like almost criminal, animalistic intent. Shuichi laid back, stunned, as Yuki positioned himself between his legs, using the already spilled seed to prepare the entrance for his own arousal.

Why you…? He wanted to say. Why of all people should a stupid, reckless, and pushy little kid be the one who drives me so crazy?

More than anything, Yuki wanted to know why, just like everyone else always wanted to know why when it came to him and his life. His brother-in-law, his sister… It was always why. Which was probably why, aside from his hundreds of questions, Yuki only glared at Shuichi, his eyes passionate and demanding as he said instead, “You’d better not cry.” And with that, he placed the tip of his need to the puckering hole, pushing in at a pace he knew would leave the kid breathless and sore until his shaft was buried deep within him. With a grunt, the boy shaking and whimpering, Yuki began to move. Within moments, both bodies were jerking in the same desperate motion, Yuki’s breath coming in short, painful gasps as Shuichi repeated Yuki’s name over and over, nothing more than a blip of noise in a symphony of groaning, panting, and the slapping sounds of flesh on flesh. But it was a noise Yuki found hard to ignore, no matter how much he tried.

Why you…? Why you…?

“Harder, Yuki! Please!” Shuichi shouted, the interruption shattering his resolve. “I need… Nng… I think I-Ah!” He bucked, searching for contact. Automatically, Yuki wrapped his hand around the forgotten member, pumping in a rhythm that match their thrusts. “Yu-Yu-Ahhh! Yuki, I-“ But Yuki was beyond hearing, beyond anything but the approaching release. Never lessening his pace, Yuki attacked Shuichi’s mouth with a kiss both fierce and passionate, more passionate than Shuichi could handle. Yuki’s name leaving his mouth in one final scream, Shuichi tensed, his climax pulling Yuki over the edge with him, his seed exploding into the boy with a force that left him numb with euphoria.

Neither moved for what could have been hours, the intensity of their release lingering in the silence around them as their ragged breathing slowed, the sweat glistening on their bodies cooled. It wasn’t until the afterglow began to dim that Yuki realized he had relaxed on top of the boy, Shuichi nestled under his chest, the two of them still connected. Suddenly, the floor seemed too cold, the air thick and uncomfortable. Yuki pushed himself off the floor, sliding out of the boy with a wince. Shuichi didn’t move, the brat already asleep, the rigorousness of the event taking its toll. Yuki would have smirked at the thought if he weren’t already trying to bite back the disgust in himself. What was he going to do now? The kid was already a nuisance; this would probably only make matters worse… With a sigh, Yuki ran his hand over his face, escaping into his room to shower and change. Though he’d intended to leave the boy to his pleasant and unaware slumber, he felt suddenly chagrined at the thought of simply leaving him on the hardwood floor. With a groan, Yuki leaned down and slid the boy into his arms, lying him on the couch instead before heading once again to the shower. Sure he had no way of knowing what would happen next, no way of understanding just what it was about this kid that kept him from simply walking away, but he was suddenly too tired to care. He’d figure it out tomorrow. Of course, he still found himself sparing Shuichi one final glance before disappearing from the room. His chest tightened, frustration swelling through him at the sight.

Nothing lasts forever, Shindo. I hope you realize that.