Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Love is the slowest form of Suicide ❯ Chapter 1

Hey all, I finally decided to get off my lazy ass and write a fic ^^ Now, this is my first Gravitation fic, it's a KxShuicihi pairing. I have only seen the first four episodes, so I profusely apologise and beg your forgiveness if everyone is OOC.

 

This was intended to be a one shot, but my stupid plot bunny won't leave.

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation or any of it's characters, I do however own the plots.

 

Now on with the fic!

 

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Love is the slowest form of Suicide

 

K was always great at guessing things; the most efficient ways of getting what he wanted done (he often praised what ever genius that invented the gun), and, well, basically what was good for the band. But never in all his long years would he have guessed that he would fall for him, the pink haired singer of BAD LUCK. The lead singer of the very band he managed. He could just never take his eyes off the beautiful boy, his voice, the unconscious sway of his hips, the way his body screamed sex appeal. He wanted to touch him, but knew he couldn't. Shuichi was taken. His boyfriend being the bastard, Eiri Yuki.

 

He won't lie; he never liked Yuki very much. Mainly because; A) He treated Shuichi badly quite a bit, often kicking him out of the house, and B) He's a wanker.

 

`Wait... where in the seven hells did `wanker come from?' he quietly mused. Hm, must be those British movies he watched a while back, vaguely remembering the main character using the word. He didn't really like them; he only watched them because he had not heard any English for a long time.

 

He wasn't married anymore, he and Judy divorced months ago, Judy taking full custody of their 5 year old son Michael. He only got to see him for two weeks each month, and Michael hated flying to Japan, but gladly did it just to see his daddy. Why did he divorce Judy? She was cheating on him, plain and simple - his little pink haired angel had walked in on her kissing another man. She had tried in vain to bribe Shuichi not to tell, but he wouldn't go for it. At first K didn't believe him (such denial), but a few scant minutes later Judy barged in to his office and confessed everything. And that was that. He knew he should have been crushed to lose her, he knew that he should be angry with her. He wasn't. And, up until a few weeks ago, he didn't understand why.

 

He found himself starting to become attracted to men. Namely one Shuichi Shindou, who was currently in the midst of recording a new song, K sat on the other side of the sound proof window admiring the boy - as discreetly as possible - pondering what it would feel like to touch that lithe torso, to kiss those cute pouty lips, to press and grind his - `OK! Stopping right there! I do NOT need a hard-on right now! God, what's wrong with me? I'm lusting after a 19 year old who is already taken, who will never love me. I mean come on, I'm 36 and he's 19 going on 20, who would want an old man like me?' Hn. It was so troublesome to stay happy when you know you're not. The only that seemed to make him happy is to at least have Shu-chan talk to him, in a completely non-fearful way (the poor boy was fidgety around K sometimes, in fear that he might shove his gun down his throat! Erk! Not that kind of gun! The kind you shoot people dead with!)

 

Anyway, back to what was going on. The usually trigger-happy blonde could not tear his eyes away from the boy, but he knew he had to. Shuichi would begin to feel the weight of the staring and look for its source. And then he would be caught and then a confrontation later on, just one whole fiasco he really didn't need right now. Whether it killed him or not, he would not -could not- tell Shuichi, it would be like standing on the edge of a blade; it could tip to anyone's favour. You could fall safely backwards or fall forwards and get cut. If he said anything, Shu-chan would either reject him and hurt him or feel the same and keep him safe. K was betting on the latter. It was tearing him up killing him inside to know that he may never get to have him. He belonged to Yuki.

 

He quickly shifted his gaze to the paper in front of him, something scribbled in the corner of the sheet. `Love is the slowest form of suicide.' It was in his handwriting. Odd, he didn't remember picking up a pen much less writing anything, but the smooth plastic of the blue pen in hand told him otherwise. It was a quote he read from somewhere on the internet, but he couldn't remember what site it was on. He has unconsciously written it whilst in his thoughts. He absentmindedly twirled the pen around his fingers to keep them from writing anything more on the paper.

 

Love is the slowest form of suicide. It frightened him as to how much truth those words held. It slowly kills on the inside, burning, cutting, shattering, tearing everything apart until the heart is devoid of love and all that is felt is excruciating pain. Making you want to take a knife and rip your heart out just so the pain would go away and you would never have to spend another day getting hurt. The scary thing, he found, was it was happening to him. Slowly, falling down a black spiral to an inevitable death. By then nothing would matter, he would already be dead. Killed by a love that would never exist. Could never exist. Shuichi belonged to Yuki. The fucking cold-hearted Yuki who in K's opinion did not deserve Shuichi.

 

There was gentle, yet somewhat hesitant tap on his shoulder, snapping him out of his daze. He seemed to be doing that a lot today. Turning around in his swivel chair, he was met with the worried face of Sakano. Apparently the recording had ended 10 minutes ago and the band was now in the cafeteria eating lunch and he wasn't there pointing his gun at them, urging them to eat quickly and record one last song (the lyrics for which Shuichi will probably not have finished) Sakano asked if he was alright, only to receive a fake almost convincing smile and the excuse that he was fine and just very tired from a very long night. Sakano knew something was wrong, but quickly dismissed it and told him to his office and rest. They couldn't have the best manager ever to fall asleep on the job now could they? K promptly yet grudgingly obeyed, leaving an extremely perplexed producer in his wake.

 

Ah, but sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. He had been getting plenty of sleep, often dreaming about the purple-eyed vocalist. And those dreams happened to be very pleasant. Very pleasant indeed. Once he reached his office, he collapsed in the swivel chair rather heavily, causing the chair to roll back quite a bit, and slowly spun around. Oh the fun of swivel chairs.

 

He really didn't feel like taking a nap, but he knew he had to. Or else he would hear about it non-stop from Sakano-san. He swore that man was an alien or something; no person dead or alive could make a human tornado. Not to mention with all the anxiety and worrying he does it was amazing he didn't have any ulcers. Maybe one day he would have a heart attack and then he'd be cut open and confirm if he was an alien. Or maybe he would one day end up being shot by a certain gun toting American. Either way, he was heading toward an early grave. “Wait, can aliens even have heart attacks or die from a bullet to the head? Now, I won't lie and say I'm not curious, but it is, unfortunately, illegal to kill someone for the sake of testing a theory that one is an alien.” Muttering to himself.

 

Sighing, he rolled himself closer to his desk, resting his arms on it and snuggling his head in to the crook of his arm. Closing his eyes, he willed himself to sleep, hoping against hope not to dream about his angel. Slowly - painstakingly so - he fell into a light sleep, his mind un-plagued by any dreams, and one hell of a stiff back when he woke up.

 

 

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Wow, thanks for sticking with it so far! ^_^ Please R&R

 

The second is in the works, so until then, Ja matta ne!