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Confessions & Cigarettes	By : Farfarello Category: Gravitation > General Views: 1608 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Gravitation is not owned by me and I am not making any profit off of this piece of fiction. I promise to put the characters back where I found them after I'm done.

Chapter List
- 1-Confessions & Cigarettes
- 2-two
- 3-three
- 4-four
- 5-five
- 6-six
- 7-seven
- 8-eight
- 9-nine
- 10-ten
- 11-eleven
- 12-twelve
- 11
- 12
"What the hell were you thinking?"

That voice, shrieking almost in his ear, followed by the sound of something hitting the wall right over his head, had Hiro sitting upright, chest pounding and goose bumps covering his skin. A shoe - spiked, bright purple and glittery - flew past his nose and hit the wall, accompanied by several more feminine shrieks. Daring to turn his head, Hiro gulped as Noriko glared, crossing her arms under her chest and making her breasts swell in the lacy embrace of her purple bra. Hiro felt his skin flush and he wondered vaguely if he could crawl away before she killed him.

Noriko continued glaring at the wall. Slowly, almost expecting to get hit, Hiro turned too and almost jumped completely out of bed when he saw Tohma peeking over the edge of the futon, somehow having wedged himself between it and the wall.

"Noriko. . . wait, please!"

"Wait? Did you just ask me to wait?"

"I can explain!" Tohma raised his hands and weakly smiled. "It was for the best!"

"The best." Noriko strode across the room and climbed on the bed. Hiro sucked in his breath and tried to climb up the wall to get out of her way, especially since he noticed that Noriko was only wearing a lacy bra and a matching thong. "You gave him pot, Tohma. A DRUG!"

"I did not. He had some already."

"Who gave it to him?"

"I do not know."

Hiro looked from one to the other and then decided to try to slip free. Maybe if they weren't paying attention to him, he wouldn't have to have any awkward conversations with either Grasper and he could slip away before Ryuichi got up. Especially since a nearly naked Noriko was trying to grab Tohma by the hair and drag him out from behind the futon while cursing with the fluency of a sailor. It was a good time to wiggle free of the covers, grab his jeans and run for freedom. But as he tried hopping into his pants, Hiro noticed that the third room's door was open and he had a clear view of what was in there. He stopped with one foot in, one foot out, his brain short circuiting.

It wasn't Ryuichi laying on his back, feet flat on the floor and a roll-up between his lips that stopped him. It was the instruments lining the room, floor to ceiling in a rainbow of colors and twists of wires. There were synthesizers and guitars, an electric drum set stacked high with tambourines and a delicate triangle, a strange tube craved deep with tribal symbols and a floor harp leaning against the far wall. And as he stood there staring, Ryuichi lifted his head and smiled, lazy and bright and a little hopeful.

"Hey, Hiro, hey. You can come in," he said, his voice a mixture of smoke and smooth, fine sake, and Hiro found himself stepping into the room and inhaling the thick, sweet smoke.

He coughed and crouched down, tugging the roll-up from lax fingers and cautiously pinching the tip out. Ryuichi made a face and took it back, but after a moment of study, he slid it into a metal tube. His arms dropped to the side and his eyes went from Hiro's face back to studying the twisting remains of smoke.

"I don't think you should be smoking that," Hiro said, watching Ryuichi as he stretched, his blue eyes half-hidden under the fall of his hair.

"Noriko is that mad?"

"She's almost naked and throwing shoes at Tohma," Hiro replied, sitting back as Ryuichi sat up.

"Oh. I guess she's not that mad then," he said, running his hands through his hair. He brought one hand to his nose, taking a sniff and shaking his head slowly. "When she throws keyboards, then she's pissed."

"Ryuichi, that's not the point."

"Hm? Does my hand smell like mint?"

Hiro fell back as Ryuichi shoved his hands into his face. Irritably, he waved them aside and grabbed Ryuichi by the shoulders, giving him a hard shake. Ryuichi looked up at him, his eyes huge and almost childish before he dissolved into giggles. Hiro shook him again.

"Ow. Hey, man. What's up with you?"

"You're stoned!" Hiro wondered if there was a way to smack sobriety into a person.

Ryuichi raised his index finger and shook it slowly at him. "I am not stoned. I had half a joint, if that. I'm just really tired."

"What about this?" Hiro asked, waving at the sweet smoke escaping the room. Ryuichi snickered and pushed himself to his feet, wavering a little.

"Tohma smokes peche when he does smoke," Ryuichi said, wrinkling his nose. "It's pretty girly of him to tell the truth."

"He smokes?"

"We were a club band," Ryuichi replied, shrugging and then stretching, curling his bare feet against the floor and raising his hands over his head. "Of course all of us smoke. Unlike Noriko and I, Tohma has Mika to yell at his habits and who would want her mad at them, right?"

Having run into Tohma's wife several times over the years, Hiro had to agree. He might not have been in her line-of-fire but she was still far too scary to get her mad at him. He watched the singer drop his shoulders forward, shaking his hands out and rolling his shoulders. Then standing upright and rubbing his face with his hands, Ryuichi chuckled ruefully, peering up at him through his messy bangs.

"You know, I expected you to bail on me."

"Huh?" Hiro frowned at the sudden change in conversation.

"The whole attacking you thing," he said, waving it off like a fly. "I would have expected you to run off after all that, but I'm glad you didn't."

"Well. . ." Hiro stuttered, his cheeks flushing. "It's not. . . I sort of enjoyed some of it."

"Did you?" The sly look he gave him had Hiro looking at the floor, trying hard to not blush. He realized then that he hadn't really pulled on his jeans and started struggling into them again, cheeks feeling flushed. Fingers tangled in his hair and tugged, and Hiro looked up. Ryuichi bent down and pressed a soft kiss against the corner of his mouth. Hiro blinked even as Ryuichi stepped back and ran a hand through his hair.

"So cute, but I gotta get ready for work."

"Work?"

"You did not think that we were going to preform a song without first making sure that it is ready for marketing?"

Hiro turned. Tohma stood behind him in the hall looking as if he hadn't been hiding behind a futon while his fellow keyboardist wasn't trying to beat him over the head with a shoe. Noriko was standing next him, polished in purple jeans and a lacy white shirt, her hair teased into ringlets around her face. Hiro straightened and pushed his hair from his face, wondering at how quickly it took them to go from ruffled to professional. It still took him and Shuichi an hour to get stage ready.

"You have five minutes, Ryuichi," Tohma said and the singer sighed before moving past them and heading for his room. Tohma then smiled at Hiro and if there was any exhaustion in it, he couldn't see it. "You can stay here if you wish, Nakano-san. I am sure that Ryuichi would not mind."

Noriko brushed past him and retrieved the tube from the floor. She made a face and stuck it down the front of her shirt, and glanced over her shoulder at Tohma. The keyboardist raised an eyebrow and she sighed, shaking her head.

"He better not get weird," she muttered and then she was wagging her finger at Hiro. "And you better not start encouraging him to get more."

"I don't like drugs," Hiro said raising his hands in self defense. Noriko frowned and nodded once just as a door banged open and Ryuichi bounced down the hall. He was wearing butter-soft leather and scruffy sneakers, his hair teased into soft feathers and blue eyes made bluer by smudges of shimmering brown powder over the lids. He slung an arm over Tohma's shoulders and smiled.

"I'm ready!"

"About time," Noriko snapped and headed for the door. "You're always so much trouble."

"But you love me!"

"Don't push your luck, buddy!"

Ryuichi laughed, and tugged on Tohma's hat, getting poked in the ribs by the blond before he untangled himself from the grip. Ryuichi took a step after them, and then turned, stepping into Hiro's space and leaning up to kiss him hard.

He made a noise in the back of his throat, the taste of bubblegum overlaying a sweet, cloying flavor of smoke. It was different than last night, an awareness and passion the other kisses lacked. Hiro could feel strong fingers digging into his hip, the sharp scrape of nails against his scalp. One final nip at his lips and Ryuichi pulled away, his tongue touching his lower lip.

"Yeah," he breathed, and the sound of his voice made Hiro's skin prickle. "I think this is going somewhere."

Ryuichi left and Hiro stood for a minute staring at the door and still feeling the sharp drag of fingers against his skin and plump lips against his. He shuddered and tangled both hands in his hair, feeling like he was still dreaming and that all of this was nothing more than a hoax. Why him? He was just a guitar player and not really one of the best players in the NG family. It just didn't make sense.

In his pocket, his cellphone buzzed. Hiro felt it and for a moment he wondered if it was just another side-effect of what was happening to him. But remembering that he had set it to vibrate yesterday so not to disturb the bands on the stage, he sighed and dug into his pocket. He stared at the caller ID for a long moment, trying to get his mind to work before actually seeing it. 'Shu-chan' it said, and a smile tugged on his lips, remembering at how he switched it to that in order to make Shuichi yell before he pouted at him. The smile slipped away too fast though as he remembered that with everything that was going on, Hiro had not been spending time with his friend. He hadn't even told him about this thing between him and Ryuichi.

Taking a deep breath, he answered the call. "This is Hiro."

"Did you hear?"

He slid down the door, leaning against it and looked up at the ceiling. "Hear what?"

"Aw man, how can you NOT. . ."

Hiro heard the pause in Shuichi's voice and waited for him put things together. He knew that his friend thought himself dumb, and in a way he was, but Shuichi also had a talent to pick up the emotions and problems of those he cared about.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm not sure." Hiro rubbed his nose, trying to sort out the muddle that was his mind. "I. . . I think I need to talk."

"I'll come over and hang out. Yuki locked himself in his study muttering something about needing to get his heroine out of a fishnet. I'll bring pizza!"

"Ah, that'll be good," he replied and then laughed. "I'm close by."

"You're not at your place?"

"No, I'm at Ryuichi's."

Hiro closed his eyes, waiting for a sudden shout or maybe even a moment of fan squealing. There was none, only a sucked in breath before Shuichi said, "Give me the address and I'll be there."

As Hiro did so, he wondered if he was doing the right thing.
- 11
- 12
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Confessions & Cigarettes