Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ This I Promise You ❯ Just Beware of the Thorns ( Chapter 10 )

This I Promise You

Prequel to: Because of You

Written by: Chocho

Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation

Story summary: Everybody assured him Rinjin Yasashii was just another obsessed fan with a crush and that there was nothing to worry about. Little did they know how wrong they all were.

Chapter summary: This is not good. We were all wrong. He wasn't paranoid after all. Wait. Rinjin? What're you doing?...Yes! Mine! All mine!

Warnings: M-preg, explicit sex, language, violence, angst

Key: Blah blah blah: flashback/dream

Blah: stressed words

*: change in POV or time

 

***

 

Chapter 10: Just Beware of the Thorns

 

(The next morning)

 

“…That's alright. What have you got for me?...Yes, I was stuck in it.” The producer and keyboardist of Nittle Grasper raised an eyebrow and leaned back in the desk chair. “And?” Tohma's eyes widened. “…Are you sure?...Oh?...What?!” He shot forward. “Where is he now?” he demanded. “What?...Who spoke to him?...I want to speak with him…Why not?...What?” Tohma sighed heavily and pressed a finger into his throbbing temple. “What? Really? I'd really appreciate it. Thank you very much…Thank you. No, that's it. Goodbye.”

 

Tohma Seguchi replaced the receiver and leaned back in the leather chair. Lacing his fingers under his chin, he stared blankly at the wall. Why was it whenever you took one step forward you were forced to take two back? When Eiri asked him to look into this Yasashii Rinjin guy, he had not expected it to go this far. How had he not seen this?

 

A knock at the office door snapped him out of his retrieve. “Yes?”

 

The door opened and his green-haired cousin stuck his head in. “Tohma? Are you busy?”

 

Tohma smiled at the younger man. “Not for you, Suguru.” He waved his hand towards a chair in front of his desk. “Please.”

 

Fujisaki Suguru strode into the office, shutting the door behind him. He sat down in the chair indicated by his cousin.

 

“I'm actually glad you're here, Suguru,” Tohma told the younger man. “I made some calls and discovered some things about Niwa-san.” He picked up a manila folder and tossed it gently across the desk.

 

The manager of Bad Luck picked it up and flipped it open.

 

“It seems Niwa-san went to school with none other than-“

 

“Rinjin Yasashii,” Suguru read in surprise. He stared up at his cousin in genuine shock. Then a flash of doubt crept into his eyes. Shaking his head, Suguru continued flipping through the slim folder. “Coincidence.” He could not believe that it was anything other than that. If he did, the guilt that he had been trying to suppress would eat at him.

 

“Maybe. Maybe not. What I found interesting is, they lost contact after they graduated. Niwa than joined the military-“

 

“'Special ops',” Suguru read.

 

Tohma nodded. “After serving the required stint, he as contacted by his old friend. The following week, Niwa had a job as janitor here at NG and Rinjin moved into the apartment next to Eiri's.”

 

Suguru tried to absorb everything being thrown at him. It was a little too much. “It doesn't prove anything except that Shuichi's paranoia is contagious.”

 

“Possible,” Tohma agreed with a nod. “But if it is, then it's an epidemic.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“Eiri called me yesterday and asked me to look into his neighbor, Niwa's best friend.”

 

Suguru raised an eyebrow. “I thought-“

 

Tohma nodded. “Apparently Shuichi's been having terrible nightmares-“

 

“Still?”

 

“'Still'?”

 

Suguru closed the folder and rested it on the desk. “For the past month, he's been talking about how Rinjin-san gives him the creeps and he was always talking about these night terrors.”

 

“Was?”

 

“I guess when he realized none of us were taking him seriously, he stopped speaking to us about it. Well, except for Kei, Kai and Michael. He talks to them but when either Hiro or I are around, he clams up.”

 

Tohma nodded. All this combined with what he earned not to long ago, was making him a little antsy. It was beginning to seem as if Shuichi might not be his usual paranoid self. “I think…”

 

A knock on the office door startled the pair.

 

“Enter.”

 

An older male with grey hair and stained overalls entered the office, his eyes darting nervously. “Gomen, sir, for disturbing you, but-“

 

Tohma waved his apology aside. “It's alright, Kitagawa-san. What can I do for you?”

 

“Uh, I found something you should take a look at.”

 

The cousins glanced at one another.

 

The men followed the senior janitor through the empty halls of the NG building, stopping outside an all too familiar studio.

 

Suguru blinked. “Wait a minute! This's…”

 

Kitagawa-san had led them to the studio that Bad Luck usually used. It was the same one where Suguru bumped into Niwa-san, it was also when the young manager had started to become a little suspicious of Niwa-san. Why had Kitagawa-san led them here?

 

The elderly gentlemen opened the door to the studio and escorted them inside. “I was cleaning and dropped my rag. When I bent to pick it up I saw this black box…thing.” He pointed to the control panel.

 

Dropping to their knees, Suguru and Tohma sprawled under the control panel. Immediately, they saw the small black box. Suguru had no idea what he was looking at, but Tohma had a little inkling as to what it was and where it had come from. All the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place.

 

“That's not the only one.”

 

Tohma scooted out and stood up, his cousin soon followed. “What?”

 

“I found one in there,” Kitagawa said, pointing through the Plexiglas window into the recording booth. “I didn't think anything of it, until I saw this one.”

 

Suguru was confused. “Tohma?”

 

“Find Niwa-san,” the blond-haired producer told the janitor. “And if a man comes in with a package for me, bring him up to my office immediately.”

 

“Yes, sir.” Kitagawa bowed and left the studio.

 

Suguru turned towards his cousin in growing confusion. “Tohma? What's going on?”

 

“We shall see, Suguru.”

 

“Huh?” He had absolutely no idea what was going on, but he had a feeling he was not going to like it.

 

*

 

“Shu-chan, I'm leaving!”

 

Shuichi stuck his head out of the shower, his head full of suds. “Be careful! I love you!”

 

Eiri smiled. “Love you, too.”

 

Leaving the overly humid bathroom door open so his husband- Eiri's smile widened and a slight blush tinged his cheeks- could hear the phone if it rang, the writer flew down the stairs, grabbed his wallet, keys and jacket. He had a meeting with Mizuki Kanna, his editor, to turn in his latest book and talk to her about postponing a few things. Then he had to talk to his lawyer- who also happens to be his spokesmen. It was going to be a very busy day.

 

He nodded to the scrawny Japanese male standing at the front door as he left.

 

Matoh Koji was the night guard. From eight at night until eight in the morning he was the only thing standing in the way of a crazy stalker fan and Shuichi. When Eiri first met him, he thought it was some kind of joke. This “bodyguard” was no more than a boy. He was so young he was still breaking out. This kid did not look much stronger than Shuichi and looked like he weighted less wet! But the kid had proven himself. He made Jackie Chan and Jet Li look like amateurs.

 

“Uesugi-san! Sir! Shindou-san-“

 

“Eiri,” came the familiar whine/shout.

 

Turning around, the writer saw his husband of eighteen hours standing in the doorway of their apartment, dripping wet, in nothing more than a bathrobe. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a blush tint the young guard's face. Growling, Eiri marched down the hall and grabbed Shuichi's arm. “Baka! Are you trying to get sick?” He dragged the man inside the apartment.

 

A huge grin split Shuichi's face at the blatant jealousy and possessiveness he could hear in his husband's voice.

 

Eiri pulled Shuichi into the living room where he immediately pulled the wet, nude-except-for-a-bathrobe man against him. Shuichi wrapped his arms around Eiri's neck, pulling their heads together for a short, chaste but tender and spine tingling kiss. Moaning against the soft, lush lips, Eiri held the singer against his pulsating body. His hands roamed to cup the round globes of Shuichi's ass.

 

Shuichi mewled deeply from the throat. “Stay and make love to me,” he demanded softly, nipping along Eiri' jaw line to his neck.

 

Groaning, Eiri tried with no enthusiasm or effort to disengage himself from Shuichi. “I…uh…can't,” he whispered breathlessly. “I have to…uh…met Mizuki.”

 

“Fuck your editor,” Shuichi growled as he licked Eiri's collarbone before suckling it.

 

Eiri was having a hard time thinking, but that was probably the whole point. Shuichi was not nor has he ever been innocent. He was a seductress through and through. “Shu…Oh! Kami-sama,” he cried as his husband licked his sensitive ear.

 

Shuichi was determined to find a way to keep his husband home at least for another hour or two. He rubbed his growing erection against his husband's bulging pants. Both men filled the room with pleasured cries.

 

Eiri wanted nothing more than to stay home and fuck his little baka until he was too sore to move, but unfortunately, he had a lot of work to do. Reluctantly, he pried himself away. Shuichi growled, anger flashing in his eyes. Eiri blinked, then sighed. “Shu, we both have very busy schedules, today. I have to see if Mizuki can juggle a few things around so that we…” He wrapped his arms around his singer. “…can go…” He pulled him against him. “...on our honeymoon.”

 

`Honeymoon'.

 

That one word echoed in Shuichi's mind. A wide grin splayed across his face. “We're going on a honeymoon?”

 

Eiri looked at the small man with a raised eyebrow, staring at him with a look that said, “Are you always this stupid?”

 

Knowing that look, Shuichi slapped Eiri who gave a mock yelp of pain. Grinning like a mad man, Shuichi wrapped his arms around the writer, hugging him happily. “Where're you taking me?”

 

Eiri shook his head. “You'll just have to wait and see.”

 

Shuichi pouted. “Meanie. You're no fun.”

 

“Oh, I can be LOTS of fun,” Eiri said suggestively, wiggling their bodies together. With a quick, lighter than a feather kiss, Eiri pulled away. “But not right now.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to go meet Mizuki, before she-“ The rest of what he was going to say was cut off by the sudden shrill ringing of a phone. Eiri let go of Shuichi and searched his person for his cell. “Where-“ He looked up to see a familiar silver instrument dangling in front of his face. “My phone! Where…?”

 

“You left it in the office.”

 

Snorting at his own stupidity, Eiri checked the caller ID. “Speak of the devil.” Flipping his phone open, he placed it to his ear, and opened his mouth to speak when an angry stream of curses jetted forth. Eiri pulled the phone away from his sensitive ear and wiggled his finger in it as Mizuki continued to scream and yell.

 

Chuckling, Shuichi kissed his husband lightly on the cheek before sauntering back upstairs to finish getting ready. He could feel Eiri watching him as he did so. He grinned mischievously over his shoulder and put a little more swagger into his walk. Eiri was looking at him like a hungry man at a banquet.

 

Eiri sighed as his lithe baka vanished into their bedroom, shutting the door behind him. “Are you quite done?”

 

“No, I am not! How dare you leave me waiting this long!”

 

“What the hell are you talking about? We agreed to meet at eight and that's in an hour.”

 

Mizuki stopped in mid yell. At the outdoor dining area at the café, she blinked. “Huh? No, we didn't. I clearly remember,” she said, getting out her daily planner and flipping it to the correct day, “talking to you yesterday morning and-“ Her tirade stopped suddenly as her finger ran down the long list of scheduled appointments. Right there in bold red ink and circled was her meeting with Eiri…at eight am. “Oh.” Now she felt like an idiot.

 

Eiri snorted. “I might be a little late. I have to talk to my lawyer about a few things first.”

 

“Lawyer? What-“

 

“You'll know soon enough.” Before the woman could say anything else. Eiri ended the call by flipping his phone closed. “Shu! Shuichi!”

 

The door to the bedroom opened and the singer walked to the railing, towel drying his hair. He had an unbuttoned pair if jeans on and nothing else. Eiri admired the view very much. Ever since his Shuichi starting going to the gym, he has started to fill out a bit, gaining some muscle and looking even more drop dead gorgeous than ever before. What he would not give to carry Shuichi into the bedroom, rip off that hindering piece of cloth and see just how toned his husband had become and where. Eiri swallowed painfully, his pants suddenly a little too snug. Shaking himself from his lustful wanderings, he told the man he was leaving.

 

“Alright,” Shuichi sighed, crestfallen.

 

Eiri chuckled. “Just go to the studio, talk to Hiro and I'll talk to Tohma later about giving you time off so I can take you on your honeymoon.”

 

Shuichi's face instantly brightened. “Okay! I'll see ya later! I love you!”

 

“Me, too.” Eiri opened the apartment door and glanced at the singer one last time over his shoulder. “Remember, Shu. Talk to him. You've been friends for a long time. Don't let this misunderstanding get in the way of that.”

 

Shuichi nodded. When the door shut behind Eiri, the smile vanished. Slumping over the railing, he buried his face in his arms.

 

He knew what happened the night before was just a big misunderstanding. He really did not hate Hiro. He could never hate him. Like Eiri said, they were best friends! Always had been. Always will be. No, his big blow up yesterday and reluctance to go into work today was due to something else, something he had been wrestling with for the past several months, ever since Bad Luck started working on Forever Yours. Add on his fears and worries about his neighbor, which everybody kept saying was a “really nice guy”, Shuichi felt as if he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Of course, he made sure he kept this tidbit secret from everybody because they all had more important things to worry about. He had been enough of a burden over the years. Besides, if they were to find out just how mentally and physically exhausted he was, there was no telling what they would do. No, they depended on him and he just could not let them down. But that did not make it any easier to drag himself into the studio each morning.

 

This greatest hits/ cover song compilation CD had not been his idea. In fact he had been against it form the very start, but he had been outvoted. So he had no other choice but to go along with it. All he had wanted to do was take the next few months off to recover from their year long world wide tour and the success of their ninth album, success being an understatement.

 

For the past ten years, it has been the same thing. They work like dogs to put an album out, with him doing at least ninety percent of the work. He writes all the songs and composes the music. He has begun to co-produce and even co-directed several of their past videos. They work six, sometimes seven, days a week. There are photo shoots, interviews, and television and radio appearances to say the least. When the album is finally released, they go on tour. At the end, they are rewarded with a mere month off and it starts all over again.

 

Shuichi just could not do this anymore. He could not. He felt tears slip down his face. Eiri was right, he had to talk to the guys. He knew he had to, but how was he supposed to tell them what he needed?

 

*

 

Shuichi took a last look in the mirror above the dresser, his violet eyes dull and distant. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail, a pink and white bandana tied around his forehead. His hip huggers were tight against his narrow waist and slender legs. A pink belt cinched his waist, making him appear even skinnier. A tight white shirt under a black vest showed off his muscular frame.

 

His normally tan complexion was pale. His lips were slightly colorless and he had huge bags under his eyes. As he was putting on his necklace, he noticed his hands were trembling. Holding them in front of his face, he watched them shake almost invisibly. Clenching them, Shuichi took a deep breath and sighed.

 

Well, it was now or never.

 

Grabbing the cowboy hat Ryuichi had bought for him from his last trip to the US, he popped it on and left, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Grabbing his jacket, he slipped into his boots and picked up his backpack from the floor near the front door. Swinging it onto his shoulder, he made sure the front door was locked and started towards the elevator. A quick glance at his watch told him he might actually be on time today.

 

He was halfway down the hallway when he realized something was wrong. Stopping, he glanced over his shoulder down the hallway, an empty hallway. His eyebrows drawn in confusion, he started back towards his apartment. “Koji? Jacob?”

 

Koji should still be on duty. Jacob did not technically go one duty for another ten or fifteen minutes, but he usually arrived at around seven-thirty. So, where were they? They were not to leave their posts for any reason. They should be here.

 

A shiver ran down Shuichi's spine. He did not like this. He had a very funny feeling.

 

“Hello, Shindou-san.”

 

Shuichi turned, expecting it to be Koji or Jacob, but instead he gasped, taking a step back as a figure stepped out of the shadowy doorway. “Ri…Rin…Rinjin.”

 

The singer continued to back away slowly. His heart was racing, beating a rapid and uneven tempo against his breast, leaving his wheezing and panting. He was dry mouthed and his palms were slick with sweat. He was shaking violently and his stomach was churning. Saliva filled his mouth like a leaky faucet. He swallowed sharply, licking parched lips.

 

“I heard you got married,” Yasashii accused angrily as he strode towards the terrified singer.

 

Gasping, Shuichi stared at the man in shock and surprise. “H-how did you…?” The only person other than Eiri and himself who knew was Seguchi-san. How had Rinjin found out? Pale and feeling slightly lightheaded, Shuichi glanced around him in growing desperation.

 

Yasashii had always given Shuichi the creeps and made his skin crawl. It was like watching a giant black scorpion crawl unceremoniously on a wildlife expert. The man watched him like a hawk circling its prey. He had this creepy smile on his face whenever Shuichi looked at him, a cat ate the canary kind of look. It was smug and condescending.

 

At this moment, watching the older man strode towards him, Shuichi felt as if he was watching the warden walking towards his cell, knowing that he was not coming to tell him the Governor had granted him a stay.

 

Shuichi again licked his lips. He blinked rapidly to keep the insane man in focus as his vision swam before his eyes. His breath sounded unnaturally loud and his heart felt as if Kei's drums were lodged in his chest.

 

“There's no one here to interfere,” Rinjin whispered seductively. “It's just the two of us. Just like it should be.”

 

Tears filled Shuichi's eyes and he gave a sob.

 

Eiri, he thought.

 

Images of a pale, skeletal hand creeping towards him filled his mind. He felt the cold, icy grip sucking the warm from him.

 

Eiri, he thought again.

 

This was not happening! God, please don't let this be happening!

 

“I'll teach you what real love is, Shu-han. I'll show you how sweet it can be,” Yasashii whispered softly.

 

Shuichi shook his head. He moaned as the hall tilted and swayed. Losing his balance, violet eyes rolled into the back of his head. He mumbled, “Eiri,” then collapsed into a sea of nothingness. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek.

 

***