Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Bundle of Dreams ❯ A Father's Demand ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

TITLE: Bundle of Dreams
AUTHOR: WolfPuck
FEEDBACK: Yes please! Leave a review or send feedback to ba88_osapup@hotmail.com
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing remotely related to the Gravitation manga, anime series, or creator Maki Murakami. I own the storyline and the character of Arina, both of which were summoned from the darkest pits of my imagination.
RATING: PG-13 for language, as well as some sensual imagery.
 
This fiction is based off the anime series, not the manga. The events take place at an undisclosed time after Yuki's return from New York at the end of the series.
 
 
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Chapter 1
 
“Yuki!” The blond-haired young man ignored the call, instead continuing to type into his laptop.
 
“Yuki!!” Again, the voice was ignored.
 
“Yukiiiiiiii!!!!” The blonde—Yuki—groaned, saving the latest pages of his next novel for a later time and place. And just in time, it would seem.
 
“YukiYukiYuki!!” the pink-haired young rocker cried, launching himself into the writer's lap, crushing his lover with a hug.
 
“Shuichi,” Yuki muttered, the word muffled by the other man's sweatshirt.
 
“Were you working or something?” Shuichi asked obliviously, turning to stare back and forth between Yuki and the black laptop computer.
 
“What do you think?” The older man's sarcasm was lost on his lover, however, and Shuichi merely bounced off Yuki's lap and back out the office door. Yuki groaned, mentally resigning himself to whatever the young man had in store for him before getting up and following the blur of pink out into the main hallway of the spacious apartment.
 
“What do you want, you damn brat?” Yuki expelled, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he wandered into the kitchen to raid the refrigerator. Beer and old Chinese food. Yuki pulled out a can of beer, opening it with a click and proceeding to drink half of it before closing the refrigerator door.
 
“Your sister's here!” Shuichi called back in a sing-song voice that set Yuki's teeth on edge just as much as the information he had just received.
 
“Mika, what do you want now…” Yuki trailed off upon entering the living room, finding that his sister was not the only occupant of the room. Her husband Touma was there as well.
 
“Hello, Eiri,” Touma greeted pleasantly, smiling broadly at his brother-in-law. Yuki failed to return the greeting, instead choosing to down the rest of his beer in one gulp.
 
“Hello, little brother,” Mika intoned. Yuki caught the slight emphasis on the name she used to address him, but chose to ignore it for the time being.
 
“What do you want?” Yuki asked, putting his empty can down on the table a little harder than was perhaps necessary.
 
****
 
“Why did you let them in, anyway?” Yuki yelled, his two-hour-long conversation with his older sister and her husband having worn completely through his already-thin layer of tolerance. Yuki no longer cared that he was taking his anger out on the one person who was entirely blameless in the situation, he just had to yell at somebody.
 
“What was I supposed to do, throw them out?!” Shuichi yelled right back, then clapped his hands almost immediately over his mouth. He hadn't meant for the words to come out where his lover could hear them.
 
“Yes!” Yuki roared, slamming his bedroom door shut in Shuichi's face. The younger man heard the lock click, and sighed resignedly. It was going to be a long night.
 
****
 
“I just can't believe even Father would try something like that,” Yuki explained, continuing to pet Shuichi's hair as he spoke. Yuki had apologized—as much as he ever would—for yelling at his lover, and was now venting for both their sakes.
 
“Uh huh,” Shuichi mumbled, content to lie with his head on Yuki's lap and take the petting for as long as his blond-haired lover chose to give it.
 
“If he had such a big problem with my being…” Yuki paused, seemingly unable to continue. Shuichi raised his head an inch, only to have it roughly pushed back down again as Yuki regained his voice and continued to speak. “If my father didn't like you, he should have been man enough to come here and say it to my face, instead of sending my sister and Touma to do it. That was just low.”
 
“Mmm,” Shuichi agreed. The pink-haired singer chose not to linger on the uncharacteristic length of Yuki's soliloquy—the longest he had ever heard the older man speak—in an effort to keep what semblance of peace the pair had achieved over the past twenty minutes or so.
 
Yuki sighed, reaching for his third can of beer and grimacing once he realized it too was empty. Yuki tried to reach for his pack of cigarettes and lighter, only to discover that in order to reach them he would have to move his lover. And once Shuichi had shifted positions, it would take another twenty minutes to get him to keep still again. It simply wasn't worth one lousy cigarette, nicotine craving or no.
 
“Yuki?” Shuichi asked, not lifting his head this time. Yuki grunted in reply, a sign to continue. “Don't you want to get married? Don't you want to have kids?” Yuki stilled upon hearing the hesitating questions. His father had expressed—through Mika and Touma—his great displeasure that his oldest son would neither be marrying nor having any children of his own (given his current choice of lover), as well as issued a command that Yuki `find a nice girl and settle down.' His father's wishes were one thing, but to hear similar questions from his lover was simply too much for Yuki to handle. Shuichi found himself quickly and unceremoniously shoved off Yuki's lap. Almost before Shuichi had even come to rest on the floor, Yuki was already up and heading to the large window that took up the entire far wall of the apartment. The blonde stopped in front of the window, leaning his forehead against the cool glass and attempting to gather his thoughts. Shuichi remained on the floor where he had fallen, stunned.
 
Yuki stayed in this pose for a long while. Finally, he muttered a “Goodnight,” and retreated to the sanctity of his bedroom. Shuichi listened as the door clicked shut, but he heard no sound that signaled the bolting of a lock. It was a start, at least.