It started off as any other morning did. Yuki was in his study busy ‘tap tapping’ at his laptop, having been up all night and still nowhere near finished. Shuichi was in the kitchen making a lot of noise and a lot of mess as usual. Suddenly the study door burst open, and entered Shuichi dressed in a girly white apron, a large tray in his hands supporting a plate of all sorts of breakfast things and a mug of Yuki’s favourite coffee, complete with a flower in a vase and a little piece of card displaying Shuichi’s love for the older man.

“Breakfast!!” Shuichi’s voice rang throughout the flat, shrill and loud. He danced towards the desk and placed the tray down upon it, taking a step backwards to wait for the praise Yuki would give him. But it didn’t come. The writer continued to tap at his laptop, seemingly oblivious to the boy beside him.

“Yukiiiiiiiii!!” Shuichi ran forward and shoved the tray under his lover’s nose.

The older man pushed it away. “Can’t you see I’m working?!” He snapped.

Tears welled in Shuichi’s eyes. “B … b … b … Yuki!!”

“Get out, you’re distracting me.”

Shuichi stared at him. Why was Yuki always like this? He had just spent hours working on this breakfast. The least he could do was look at it and say thank you, even if he wasn’t going to eat it. Calmly, Shuichi placed the tray back on the desk, out of the way of Yuki’s laptop, and he stood backwards, bowing politely.

“I made you breakfast.” He said quietly. “Would at least try some?”

Yuki’s tapping stopped, and Shuichi wondered if it had worked, but when he looked up the blonde’s face was stone-like, his eyes flashing with anger. “You still here?!” He snarled. “I told you, I’m busy. Fuck off.” He returned to the laptop.

That was it. Shuichi lost control. He balled his fists and smacked the tray from the desk. The vase and plate and mug shattered on the floor, food and drink flying everywhere. Shuichi stood there with hunched shoulders, hurt and anger flowing through him. It wasn’t often he lost control like this. Usually he’d go off and cry and complain to Hiro and mope about in the studio before coming home and having wild sex with Yuki. But not this time, he decided. This time Yuki had gone too far.

At the sound of the shattering breakfast, Yuki looked up at him wildly, shock written all over his face, his eyes wide. “What the fuck was that for?!” He exclaimed.

“WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS LIKE THIS YUKI?!!” Screamed Shuichi.

The man just stared at him blankly.

Shuichi raised a balled fist, and without knowing why he punched Yuki around the face as hard as his anger would let him. The writer turned his head at the punch, and then he looked at Shuichi and raised a hand to his lip. It was split and trailing a small dribble of blood down his chin.

“I HATE YOU!!” Shuichi sobbed. He was shaking all over. “I HATE YOU YUKI!! I’VE HAD ENOUGH!! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!! I’M LEAVING!!!”

He ripped off the apron and threw it on the floor, and then he turned and walked from the study, slamming the door so hard that small cracks appeared in the walls around the bolts.

Yuki stared after him, his face pale. He looked at the ruined breakfast, and then at his laptop, and then at the door. After a few minutes he stood up, and went to the balcony for a cigarette. He could just make out Shuichi’s form storming down the road, and he sighed deeply. “Idiot. He’ll be back.” He muttered, and he lit another cigarette.

But Shuichi didn’t turn up that night. Or the next night. Or the next. Yuki actually began to worry. But he pushed it to the back of his mind. He had a deadline to meet. And anyway the brat was probably hiding at Hiro’s.

It was three days later and growing dark by the time someone knocked on Yuki’s flat door. He got up and slumped down the hall, one-hundred percent certain that it was Shuichi. But when he opened the door Hiro, K and Tohma were standing before him.

“WHERE IS HE?!” Bellowed K, holding up one of his favourite magnum calibre revolvers, aimed in between Yuki’s eyes. “WHERE IS HE?!” He repeated.

Yuki delicately raised a single eyebrow. “If you’re referring to that pink-haired lump of assfuck … I don’t know.”

“Bastard.” Hissed Hiro in a whisper.

Tohma stepped forward a little. “No one has seen him for three days.” He informed. “Why isn’t he here?”

“Stormed out.” Yuki leant on the door frame. “Started yelling shit at me and ran off. I haven’t seen him since. Good riddance anyway. I’ve got so much work to do.” He straightened up and started to close the door. “I’ve got a deadline next week so … if you’d please, piss off and leave me alone.”

A hand shot out and grabbed the door, forcing it open. Tohma stared at Yuki, his expression fierce and anger in his eyes. Yuki stared back, fear flickering on his handsome face.

“You don’t really mean that.” Tohma said in a low voice, and the room seemed to darken and Hiro backed away behind K. “Secretly you hope that we find him. Secretly you hope that we bring him back to you. That ‘lump of assfuck’, as you so heartlessly name him, loves you. And even though you’ll never admit, you have feelings for him too. Maybe even … love him too.”

A long awkward silence followed this. Tohma and Yuki continued to stare at each other, and Yuki seemed to get paler and paler and more frightened by the second. Hiro and K looked from one man to the other, waiting for something to happen, until eventually, Yuki smirked.

“You think you know me, but you do—”

“I know you well enough to recognise love when I see it.” Interrupted Tohma sternly. “Now, get your coat. You can fuck your deadline, Eiri. This is more important, and you’re going to help us search for him whether you like it or not.” He walked off down the corridor, shortly followed by K and Hiro.

Yuki watched them until they disappeared around the corner of the corridor, and then he closed the door and leant on it, running a hand over his face and sighing deeply. Part of him wanted to retreat back into his study, but an even bigger part of him new that Tohma was right. He marched into his room and pulled on a pair of shoes and his coat, and then he ran from the building.

For the past few days, Shuichi had resigned to wandering about aimlessly, unsure of what he wanted to do or where he wanted to go. Yuki was a bastard, he knew that much. And at the moment Shuichi could feel only hatred for the writer. Tonight he had taken refuge in an alleyway. It was obvious that someone had slept here before because there was a rough bed made up of cardboard and paper and a thin raggedy blanket. Biting back tears, Shuichi sat down on it and leant against the wall, hugging himself.

He would have gone to Hiro’s, but his friend would have only joked about the situation and called him stupid and then dragged him into work. But Shuichi didn’t want to enter the studio. K would have probably blown his head off with some kind of huge freaky cannon blaster. And he had no heart to sing. His love for Yuki was what gave him strength and drove him to sing. And he had lost that. No. He never had it. Shuichi brought his knees towards him and wrapped his arms about them, starting to cry softly.

A sudden noise made him look up sharply. Coming towards him down the alleyway was a dark figure. As it grew nearer, Shuichi shrank away into the shadows, hoping that whoever it was wouldn’t see him. The person turned out to be a man, with dark features and a well-built body. He was swaying slightly from side to side, his steps awkward and clumsy. He was drunk. Fear pulsated through every inch of Shuichi’s body, and then the man saw him.

“Well … wha’s a pwetty ‘ittle thin’ like you doin’ inna nas’y place li’e thi’?” He slurred loudly, coming to a halt in his tracks, and then making towards Shuichi.

“G-go away!!” He cried, pressing himself against the wall and trying to make himself looks as small as possible.

The man came right up to him and drunkenly reached out. He took a surprisingly tight hold on Shuichi’s chin and forced his head up. “Hey … hav’n’t I see’ you someplace b’fore?”

Shuichi shook his head and tried to pull away.

“Hm. You wanna come home wiv’ me baby?” The man dragged Shuichi towards him.

“No! Get off! Let go!”

He started to get angry. “Hey! Tha’s no nice!” The man tightened his grip on Shuichi until he cried out in pain.

Closing his eyes tightly, Shuichi struck out wildly with his fists. He caught the man, who released a gasp and backed away from a second.

“Oh.” He said. “So tha’s how it’s gunna be?!”

He marched forward and took a rough hold on Shuichi, pinning him down and starting to rip at his clothes. Shuichi screamed and kicked, but the man was surprisingly strong. He found himself wishing that he was still at home. Still with Yuki. He wanted Yuki to turn up and save him. But he was probably locked up in his study, working away on his laptop, not even one tiny thought of him passing through his mind.

Shuichi closed his eyes and cried out. The man almost had him. In a few sort moments he was sure that he would feel nothing but pain. But suddenly the man stopped, and collapsed forward onto him. He looked up. Someone was standing over him. They grabbed hold of the man and pulled him away, and then they stopped and stared at Shuichi. A car drove past, and the light shone on the person. It was Yuki. He looked frightening dressed all in black with his long black coat trailed about him, his expression more cold and hostile than usual. He stepped forward and reached out a hand, taking hold of Shuichi by his upper arm, but Shuichi let out a yell and tried to shake him off.

“Let me go!!” He cried. “Let me go!!”

But Yuki kept a firm grip on him. He pulled Shuichi to his feet and brought him close, wrapping his arms about his small body tightly. Shuichi stopped yelling and froze, his breath hitching in his throat. Yuki was hugging him. Without a word, the older man removed his coat and wrapped it about Shuichi, and led him to where his car was parked.

On the way back to the flat, Shuichi fell fast asleep. When he woke up he was in a dark room, the only light coming from the street outside. Yuki was sitting on the sofa, and Shuichi found that he was curled up on his lover’s lap. As soon as Yuki realised he was awake, he embraced Shuichi and pulled him nearer.

“Don’t you ever leave me like that again you fucking bastard.” He said, but his voice was soft.

“Yuki, I—”

The older man tenderly placed his lips on Shuichi’s forehead, cutting him off. “If anything ever happened to you … I’d … die.” Whispered Yuki. “I really would die. Who’s going to be there for me to … shout at and … and moan at? It’s too quiet when you’re gone. Sure, I get me work done, but … It’s not the same when you’re not here. I … I don’t like it. Don’t ever leave again.”

Shuichi was speechless. This wasn’t the man he loved. The man he loved was cruel and heartless. He looked up at him. Tears were dancing in Yuki’s eyes. Very gently, he leant forward, but before he got a chance to do anything Yuki had pressed their lips together. The kiss was tender and gentle, and Shuichi closed his eyes and released a small sigh. Maybe Yuki really did love him, he just couldn’t show it. Whatever Yuki’s feelings, he didn’t care whether he showed them or not. Right now all Shuichi cared about was the fact that he was back in Yuki’s arms. And the fact that Yuki needed him. That feeling was the nearest Shuichi was probably going to get to Yuki telling him he loved him, and that made him the happiest person alive.