Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ A Whispered Nightmare ❯ The Start of it all ( Chapter 1 )

A Whispered Nightmare

Hazel R. Wood

*bows to Maki Murakami* Thank you for creating hyper, cruel, manipulative and hobo characters that I don't own!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Screw the warnings, I can't give anything away!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Back from the dead, Heaven was boring, like my old fanfics. But damn, hell is fun. Hence the new stuff!

Don't own anything. But angst and some OOC with good reason, Never assume!


The chilling wind swirled in his ears, numbing the pain that was seeping into his brain. After seven years it came back to him like a train wreck. He didn't want this to be real, who would? The last couple of years had been a lie, a lie to himself. And the funny thing was, it wasn't even a believable one. He just made it true, made it so the pain disappeared like the illusion he had created.
~
He was in his apartment in New York City that very morning, attempting to finish another novel. He rubbed his eyes with frustration and considered how he would end it. It was always a hard choice, happy ending or death, as it always seemed to be in romantic stories. Even his favorite book, 'Dream', had death in it. How did the element of surprise work so well in that novel? It really was unexpected and he didn't remember anything but the death in the end. It had been a long time since he had read it, but he recalled it was taken from him when he was still in Japan.

Now, more annoyed with himself, he lit a cigarette and took a drag. He really hated those things but he felt so obligated to smoke them that he did by the pack.
"Screw this...” He said blankly and stood up. After publishing a few novels and becoming quite popular, it was hard to keep up with new plots that don't repeat others. He walked to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator, where he grabbed the pitcher and poured a large glass of iced water. His eyes drifted to the corner of the counter and noticed he hadn't taken his medicine yet.

“Dammit!” He checked his watch and saw it was five thirty-one. It wasn't to late to take them, luckily. He hated all this medication he had to take, and as he swallowed them all at once he wondered if anyone else took as much medicine for one stupid problem. He finished off the water and felt slightly better. He looked out the window and saw darkness. With a sigh he tapped the cigarette and watched the ashes fall into the tray that was beside about twenty bottles of drugs.

His life was a complete routine; he'd wake up at three o'clock, and then eat something. Then he'd work on his novel for a couple of hours, get frustrated, take his meds, watch the Asian news, then work on his book some more, then eat again, and wait for his lover to get home.

After seven years, he was still waiting. But he wasn't the type to give up so simply, he would look for another ten years and not lose hope.
Hope was one of the only things that bastard in Japan had left him with. The only problem was the name escaped him. He didn't really recall anything that happened in the now foreign country. Only something major that left him with a plane ticket to New York and a pair of glasses. And that's what all that damn medication was about, why he had to keep going to a shrink every Tuesday. He really hated it.

He unintentionally grabbed a box of pocky from the cupboard, ripped open the plastic and began to munch, still lost in thought. He collapsed on the couch and grabbed the remote and mashed the red button. The TV flickered and sound filled the room.

A few minutes later there was a story of some owner of some major corporation which now had the most money making income whatever in some industry. He was only half paying attention until the president of the company stood up and made some elaborate speech. But it wasn't the speech that caught his attention, it was the man.

Without bothering to turn off the television he grabbed his coat and ran out the door. He had to get to that bookshop, no logic told him it wouldn't be open, or that it was eleven blocks away and he didn't have money for a cab. He was having recollections of events. Suppression was failing, and his sudden curiosity of the past urged him further. He knew he never before wanted to know about those missing years but it kept popping back up when he thought about why he was in New York. Now that he had a clue, maybe, just maybe his goal was to find himself. The bookshop was in sight now. It was small and incredibly old, with an ancient owner. He had stopped in there once or twice while he waited for his editor but he had never thought it would help him before. In fact, he had thought it a waste of space.

He ran to the door and tried to open it. It was locked, and the sign said `closed until seven a.m.'
So with a sigh he sat down and waited until the appointed time, which was the longest half hour of his life.

~*~
“Hey, Yuki? I'm home, are you here?” Shuichi yelled loudly as he closed the door. He was answered with only silence. “Yuki?” He noticed Yuki's shoes were not there. With a sigh, he removed his own shoes and walked around the lonely apartment. Yuki had been going out a lot in the past week or so, and it greatly aroused the singer's curiosity. However, every time he questioned his lover about it, Yuki would harshly snap at him. But later would apologize with a passionate gesture of a lingering kiss.

“He's acting… so weird…” Shuichi frowned with a thought that his brain was not used to as he picked up the phone. His fingers went to rapid work with his perfect memorization of the blonde's cell number. He tapped his foot as it rang three times and just before the fourth, which would be his voice mail, ring, there was an answer.

“Yes, what is it, Shuichi?”

Shuichi felt his heart flutter at the very sound of Yuki's gruff voice.

“Hey! Where are you? It's almost seven o'clock!” Shuichi grinned as he leaned casually on the living room wall.

“Oh, god, is that all you do? All I ever hear from you is `nag, nag, nag'. I just had to pick something up, I'm more than halfway home already.”

“That's what wives are suppose to do! Now, get here soon or there'll be hell to pay!” The pink haired boy said enthusiastically.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bye.”

“Bye!”

After he hung up, Shuichi leaped on the sofa and snagged a pillow, grinning insanely. He squeezed it tightly and rocked back and forth. “Yuki's coming home! Yuki's coming home!” Shuichi chanted, like some sacred ritual to call forth a spirit.

“Shuichi, you are so lucky! Damn, what would you do without him?” There was, for the second time that night, an odd ringing silence as the rocking ceased and Shuichi was, once again, pondering. `What would I do without him?' He frowned softly at the possibility. If he ever lost his lover… he…

“You idiot!” He laughed suddenly, his scowl replaced with his usual smile.

“He isn't going to leave me! I won't hear another word about that stupid crap! Ah ha!” He yelled at the pillow, pointing an accusing finger.

“And now you nag at pillows?”

The pink haired boy turned in cinematic slow motion towards the only man that desired his heart and other unmentionables A.K.A the dirty stuff. Shuichi's ocean blue eyes met the amber orbs of his lover, who was standing in the doorway, preparing himself for some sort of reaction.

“YUKI!” Shuichi shouted, springing from the couch and tackling the blonde, in a violently playful manner, to the soft beige carpet.

“You know…” Yuki mumbled, trying to prop himself up on his elbows. “Ninety-nine point nine percent of the time that I fall, you cause it, now, get off.”

Shuichi smiled wickedly. “Nope, not until you give me what I want.”

The blonde just stared at him, blankly.

“You know what I want!” Shuichi whined like a puppy.

Yuki just shrugged. “No idea.” He said, effortlessly.

Shuichi frowned. “Well, guess…”

His lips were soon held captive to the blonde's with a sweet passion that never failed to send shivers of pleasure down his spine. And he knew, that no matter how rough his lover could be, he was sweet. Shuichi understood this because of those clear, gentle amber eyes and the delightful tender kisses the blonde's lips gave him. This experience had never failed to trigger his longing and desire. He especially loved exploring the insides of Yuki's mouth.

As they parted, Yuki did manage to get support from his elbows, Shuichi felt that sensational tingle that he would in no way get tired of.

Yuki stared at the blissful boy for a while then sighed. “Could you please get off now, you're heavy.”

Shuichi snapped out of his daze and blinked. “Oh yeah, sure.” He stood up and helped the novelist to his feet.

The blonde straightened his clothes and ran a hand through his hair.

“You're in a really good mood today.” Shuichi observed, examining more than his lover's attitude.

“I guess, considering all the shit I still have to do.” Yuki grumbled, taking out a cigarette and his lighter, then, hesitated.

“Yuki?” Shuichi asked, as he noticed the pause, uncertainly.

“I'm going to be pulling some more all-nighters.” Yuki stated, ignoring his lover's interruption and lit his cigarette, then took a long drag.

The boy glared at the cigarette. “Sometimes, I envy those things…” He piped, a jealous tone seeping into his voice.

Amber eyes glanced at him. “You're a freak, you know that?” Yuki smiled slightly. Shuichi nodded.

“I sure do!”

“Impossible… I have work to do.” With that, he walked into his office, leaving the door ajar, a soft blue light reflected off the hall wall and the carpet. Shuichi, smiling to himself, couldn't resist to look in at his lover.

The first thing he noticed was the intense blue glow of the laptop that was mirrored onto Yuki's face, making it more his features more soft and gentle. Shuichi's eyes drifted to the ashtray that, to his surprise, was almost completely empty. Then again, the house had been losing the smoke-smell; maybe his lover was trying to quit?

“You know, I can't work with you watching me…” Yuki said suddenly, not once glancing at the singer.

“Oh right, sorry. I think I'm going to bed now.” Shuichi said with a wide smile.

“Lucky bastard.” Yuki grumbled, adjusting his glasses. The pink haired boy sighed and walked over to his lover.

“Did you already eat something?” He asked, now positioned right behind Yuki's chair. The blonde nodded. “Yeah, Seguchi wanted to talk to me and wanted to do it over dinner.” He said, indifferently.

Shuichi grinning, his curiosity would not get the better of him this time. “Okay.” He then leaned down and nibbled the blonde's ear lightly. He felt Yuki freeze. The writer leaned forward sharply, clenching his left ear.

“Don't do that! Get the hell out of here!”

A minute later, Shuichi was outside the closed office door. “Good night, Yuki! I love you!” He said to the door, grinning widely.

“Yeah, yeah I know you do. Now go to bed.” Came the muffled reply.

That night Shuichi crawled into bed, knowing tomorrow was going to be a good day.

However he woke up before the new day started, screaming.
~*~

"Young man..."

He looked up from his sitting place infront of the shop to see the old man who ran the place. He stood up immediately and dusted off his clothes.

"Sorry, I must have zoned out a bit." He said quickly. The old man smiled, making his wrinkles rise. He unlocked the ancient oak door and to new possibilities