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Water Test	By : ibshafer Category: Gravitation > General Views: 2694 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Water Test
- 2-Water Test - part 2
- 1
- 2
Title: Water Test (sequel to “Turnabout,” which was the sequel to “Sweet Equity...”)

Part: part 1/2; (this is the 3^rd story in a series; depends on how long it takes me to get “there.”)

Author: ibshafer

Rating: NC-17; yaoi (natch, this IS Gravitation…)

Character/Pairing: ShuichiXEiri

Disclaimer: I don't own these people, they own themselves and have no idea I’m making them do
naughty things to each other with their cute little bodies… (I suspect they wouldn’t mind if they did…) No
coins were collected in the writing of this story.

Summary: Shuichi’s got a plan; Phase 1: Testing the waters …

Warnings: blissfully graphic sex (in the second part, really; in this one, we just thinks about it a lot…);
sparse profanity [Sorry to the folks with delicate “ears,” this is a story about grown-ups, doing stuff that
grown-ups do. They talk like adults, they act like adults. If that’s not for you, maybe reading a story rated
NC-17 ain’t for you either… Just trying to be helpful… To all reviewers – welcome! and thanks for the high
praise!!! You’ve been great and very encouraging!]; and finally, actual vocabulary words – some of ‘em
big. (‘s why they invented the dictionary, friends!)

Genre: Gravitation; (slightly introspective) PWP (that’s PORN Without Purpose, kiddies…)

Water Test

~ibshafer

Had Shuichi believed in guardian angels (the dirty kind, that is), he might have taken what transpired in the
next week as a sign one was watching over him. As it was, he was just happy for the turn of events that
found him sitting on the couch in the greenish glow of his favorite horror flick literally molded to Yuki’s side,
keeping constant watch on the progress of Yuki’s chin as it began its inevitable descent towards Yuki’s
chest.

For Yuki Eiri was only minutes away from losing his tenuous grip on consciousness…

The inspiration for Yuki’s imminent comatose state was currently sitting in an envelope on the table in the
front hallway, awaiting editor Mizuki’s arrival in the morning.

Said inspiration had not come in the form of the latest chapter of Yuki’s latest soon-to-be best-selling
novel; that deadline was almost two weeks away – a fact that had depressed Shuichi utterly when he’d
finally managed to coax the information out of his tight-lipped lover. (Two weeks seemed like forever…)

No, rather it could be summed up easily with two multi-syllabic words:

Contractual. Obligation.

A scant two days ago, momentous news had come with the ringing of the phone. (Well, Yuki hadn’t seen it
that way, but it was certainly fortuitous for Shuichi and the pursuit of his latest obsession...)

Yuki’s editor, the ever-helpful Mizuki, had called to ‘remind’ the popular author that he had promised,
which is to say he was contractually obligatged, to write an awe-inspiring, loin-warming short story, not
less than thirty pages long, for the members of the Yuki Eiri Fan Club, one that included at least one
spirited love scene spanning at least eight pages of the manuscript. Said short story was now two months
overdue and the writer was cautioned that any further delays would not be tolerated by his usually tolerant
publisher, a publisher who had put up with moody book-signings, truncated chapters turned in months late
and the startling revelation that Japan’s premiere romance-novelist and popular sex-symbol, who had for
three years charmed nearly every single red-blooded female in Japan (and many others points east and
west), was, in point of very converse fact, quite gay…

He was reminded that he had signed the contract in question and though he feigned ignorance of it, he
had in fact agreed, in writing, to supply his fan club members with such exclusive missives as these.
These perks were what had his fans joining in droves. It was the fans who allowed him to live like a king in
a luxury flat, dress in expensive designer clothes and, let’s be honest, Yuki-sensei, it was the fans that
allowed him to continue as Japan’s premiere romance-novelist and popular sex-symbol in spite of the fact
that because he was, as it turned out, quite gay, none of them could ever hope or now even dream to
have the pleasure of his…um, ‘company.’

Yuki’s fans loved him no matter what, or who, he did, and in light of the fact that they could just as easily
have not, didn’t he owe them something in return?

The new dent in the wall next to the phone eloquently expressed not only Yuki’s opinion of this obligation,
as well as his resigned acceptance of it, but also his utter devotion, truth be told, to the lifestyle to which
he had become accustomed.

Thirty minutes later Yuki was ensconced in his study, halfway through his third, Shuichi-supplied beer,
while the building super speedily repaired the dent in the living room wall and Shuichi counted the hours
until this windfall, and unexpected, deadline was reached…

It only took the super an hour to patch the wall, (what with all the practice he was getting…), and Shuichi
showed him out, shrugging apologetically and vowing to himself to make sure there was something extra
in the man’s New Year’s card this year…

Sitting on the floor outside Yuki’s study, a spot on which he seemed to spend as much time as the couch,
Shuichi thanked the fates (or was it his guardian sex angel?) for this fortuitous turn of events.

Two days from now, if he played his cards right, he would be one step closer to his goal…

And what a goal it was…

He would never have thought to ask for this particular…favor, he knew Yuki well enough to predict the
answer to that question and could easily imagine the resulting night on the couch/in the driveway/on Hiro’s
spare bed… But on that morning a week ago, when he had awoken to find his beautiful, rather self-involved lover serreptiously performing an act he normally only initiated as a prelude to something more,
and never, ever for its own sake (and out…um, come), the rules of the game changed forever.

You mean it’s okay to do stuff to your lover when he’s asleep!?

Arms wrapped around knees pulled tightly to his chest, Shuichi had sat motionless, transfixed by the sight
of Yuki’s smooth, curved, beautiful ass, glowing in the moonlight and taunting him mercilessly; his Pocky-fueled brain had done summersaults and spazzed double-time, bouncing from one side of his skull to the
other as he tried desperately to shuffle this new revelation into his working sexual knowledge.

Does this mean I could actually… I mean, really… Does THIS mean that I could get to be—oh,
gawd!—the man? For once?!!

With all that heavy thinking going on, the two or three brain cells usually in charge of keeping Shuichi’s
lower lip from going slack were called upon to lend a hand Thinking…so Shuichi was unaware of the drool
currently spilling itself like Niagara into the ravine below his chin.

Could I pull it off? Could I…could I…ah!…do it before he woke up and…and killed me?

His lower extremities were starting to have issues with his…um, sitting position, (and why was he
drenched?) and the strongest voice was demanding, quite vehemently, that he take matters into his own
hands, immediately, and either touch the blond god sleeping on the bed, or, goddamnit, himself…

Even if Yuki did wake up (and flay him alive), it might be worth it…

At this point, Shuichi’s survival instinct wrested control of his higher brain functions away from his libido
long enough to make it clear to all parties concerned that beating a hasty retreat for the bathroom was the
only sensible, survivable course of action; especially if he wanted to live to make that attempt at nirvana at
some point in the future.

Shuichi, who was not incapable of reason from time to time, beat that hasty retreat with all due speed. (It
was the best twenty seconds of his life.)

This wasn’t the first time he’d entertained this particular notion, actually. There was that morning, a while
back, when he’d awoken, frisky and ready for some lovin’, only to find Yuki unwakable and sleeping on his
stomach… The urge to throw the covers back and…and find another way to wake him was more than he
could fight. In fact, if K-san hadn’t arrived when he had and, with the help of his beloved sidearm, spirited
Shuichi off to the studio, he would have…

And so… and so Shuichi had thought of nothing else for a week now.

Sitting in the hallway, back against the wall, the hardwood floor smooth and cool beneath him, the
staccato tap of Yuki’s typing filled Shuichi’s head and he felt the swelling of his … resolve. Each keystroke
was a stroke against his nerves, each pause (as Yuki searched out a word or opened a fresh can of beer)
a breath or a sigh expelled hotly against his sensitized skin, each muttered, half-heard curse in reality an
endearment whispered sweetly against his neck or, with fervid heat, between his trembling thighs.

Without even knowing it, his Yuki was seducing him and, in Shuichi’s hormone-saturated brain, calling to
him from the other side of the door…

Oh, god, how he wanted this man – body and soul.

He wanted to possess him, to give to him, bring to him the utter joy of being both conquered and cared
for, loved and devoured, all at the same time.

He wanted to know every single inch of Yuki Eiri, wanted to share with him, give to him, all that he had felt
at the older man’s skilled hands; to show him all that he had learned from those skilled hands. And lips.
And tongue. And cock…

And this wasn’t just about sex. (It wasn’t. ) He loved Yuki, body and soul. No, this was about showing the
man that he loved the full measure of that love, be it through sex or loopy, silly Shuichi-type words. Right
now, he was leaning toward the sex…

He might be small and he was most certainly cute, but Shuichi was also, despite both of these, a man.

It was high time he proved that to Yuki.

Although Shuichi would whole-heartedly agree that he was quite satisfied with their sex life – they made
love often and long and Shuichi never failed to cum, hard, many times – Yuki was such a dominating force
in the bedroom, a sexual control freak who knew what, where and when he wanted it, that Shuichi was
given little chance to direct their love-making himself.

More than merely wanting to know what it felt like to be the do-er as opposed to the do-ee, for once,
Shuichi just wanted the chance to be given free reign: to make love to Yuki; to take his time and indulge
his whims; to draw grateful fingers across that honeyed skin; to carefully seek out pleasure spots with the
tip of his tongue; to direct the man to move this way or that in the search for their mutual, fevered and
ultimate satisfaction.

Shuichi wanted to be the one to make Yuki cum – and harder than he ever had before.

On his spot in the hallway outside Yuki’s study, Shuichi began to squirm.

The randy thoughts chasing each other (naked, of course) through his head were wreaking havoc with the
fit of his already tight shorts. Adjusting his sitting position relieved some of the pressure, but eventually,
(and with great glee, actually), he was forced to abandon his post on the floor and beat another hasty
retreat to the relative safety, and freedom, of the bathroom. (It was the best 15 seconds of his life…)

The porcelain tub cool beneath him, he leaned back against the equally cool tiled wall, panting in the
darkened room.

Rinsing his hands under the tub’s tap, he thought of his beautiful lover, slaving away at his laptop, and for
a moment considered sneaking into the study and giving the man a surprise, under-the-desk blowjob, a
personal favorite of his. Shuichi loved feeling those long thighs tense in anticipation even as Yuki growled
his feigned irritation from above him; unbelting his always-pressed slacks, slipping nimble fingers past
zipper and silk to find the man, despite his muttered curses and apparent resistance, ready for him.

Those hot, sweet, stolen moments were as close as Shuichi got to possessing Yuki Eiri. He wanted more,
though. He wanted it all…

But still, just a taste right now would be so right. It would be two whole days before he could hope for more
than that. It would be so easy to do. Yuki was so preoccupied just then, boiling with annoyance at being
forced, at contractual gunpoint, to be brilliant, and fast, stabbing at the keys as he plotted out his mini-masterpiece. He’d be so grateful for the distraction, and the release, wouldn’t he? Maybe it would even
inspire him? Maybe Shuichi’s tongue, lips and skilled fingers would find their way, albeit it sexually
inverted, into Yuki’s story.

But…

But no matter how enjoyable, or eventually welcome, thirty minutes of hot, sweaty one-sided sex would
have been, and at this, the thinking part of him raised its one good eye to look at him and cheered, it
would only have delayed his pursuit of his ultimate goal, which was, of course, only the first phase of his
plan towards his actual ultimate goal, and so…

And so he swallowed hard, counted to ten, and tried to think of ice cream and fluffy bunnies (but not
Kumagoro, because that only led to thoughts of Sakuma-san and that only lead to thoughts of hard
musical rhythms and gyrating hips and the tingling feeling he sometimes got watching his idol perform…)
and willed his reviving “little brain” into submission, inviting it, instead, to Help. Him. Plan.

Two heads are better than one, Shuichi concluded, because in just a few minutes, putting those two
heads together, (well, the smaller one did most of the thinking, anyway) he was able to put the basics of
his plan together.

Once Yuki’s fan club short story was finished, the writing of which would no doubt take the better part of
the two days remaining until this latest deadline, Yuki, who would have gone without sleep the entire time,
would be completely and utterly exhausted; the kind of exhausted that had him dropping unconscious
wherever he might be. (After the first few episodes, Shuichi always made certain to keep the man at home
after a deadline had been met, no matter how vehemently he might protest to the contrary. [“I’m fine, brat!
Stop mothering me!”])

So, herein lay Phase 1 of Shuichi’s plan – “Testing the Waters:”

1.         Make Yuki comfortable – beer, cakes, cigarettes, the warm, pliant body of the nearest
young rock star…

2.         Make himself comfortable – lights out, “The Ring” (Japanese version, natch) on the
plasma, the shortest, shorts he had…

3.         Wait…

It was a good plan, a fine plan, and two days later, this is exactly where Shuichi Shindou would find
himself. Until then, though, he had plenty of time to obsess (and revisit the bathroom) and Think…

Being as consumed as he was with the idea of enjoying a pleasure heretofore denied him, Shuichi was not
accepting input from a more leveled-headed, but infinitely smaller, part of his brain.

Had he been thinking clearly, say, not with his somewhat one-tracked-minded “little brain” and not with a
larger brain that was stewing in its own hormonal juices and possessed with the idea of for once, finally
getting to be the man, Shuichi might have seen how very wrong what he was contemplating was.

It was one thing to give someone a blowjob, something they (Shuichi!) had happily, though infrequently
received in the past. It was quite another entirely to subject someone (Yuki…), without their consent and
without even their knowledge, to something they would clearly have not gone along with had they known.

There was a word for what Shuichi was contemplating, but his own poor kanji skills kept him from seeing it
as it floated listlessly through his mind.

There was probably a good bit of denial going on, as well. After all, admitting the true nature of what he
was planning would have dredged up his own personal demons, and we wouldn’t want to do that, now
would we?

tbc…
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Water Test