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This I Promise You (edited & revised)	By : Chocho Category: Gravitation > General Views: 2771 -:- 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
- 3
- 4
- 5
This I
Promise You

Sequel
to:� �My Heart
Beats Like A Drum�

Written
by: Chochowilliams

Disclaimer: I do not
own Gravitation or the characters from it.� I do not make any money from the writing of
this story.

Summary: Could it be
that Shuichi really is just paranoid or is there something about the new
neighbor?

Chapter
Summary: Yasashii has a man on the inside.

Warning: M/M,
hentai, romance, drama, angst, OOC-ness, language, mpreg, masturbation, anal,
oral, death, Shuichi/Eiri

Insert: �Send Me an
Angel� by the Scorpions, �Smashing Blue�

A/N: Thank you
to Mrs. Hatake Itachi, lovergirl14baby, Acherona, crazysnape, TouMoya, fahaar, yaoi loveing
wolf for
their reviews.� As I�ve said before, this
was out previously so I apologize if it�s not up to par with some of my other
stuff and also, I went back to add Riku so his presence may be a little
off.� Again, I apologize for that.� Anyway, Enjoy!

+---+---+---+

(Last Time)

After K-san
left to manage another band at America's
XMR Records under the direction of Reiji several years ago, Seguchi Tohma
allowed his young cousin, Fujisaki Suguru, to take over as Bad Luck's manager
on a trail basis while still keeping his job as the band's music arranger and
keyboardist.� Unfortunately, the pressure
and stress were too much for the young man to handle and something had to
give.� In the end, that something was
playing synthesizer.

That decision
left the band in a real bind.� When, at a
family gathering, Shuichi expressed this latest development and newest crisis,
he was surprised to learn that his younger cousins along with their half
Japanese-American exchange student friend had started a band and were looking
for a singer.� After a meeting with Hiro,
Suguru and Sakano-san, the boys were brought in and given a screen test.� They passed with excellence and the rest is
history.

Unlike his
boyfriend and best friend, these three actually took his worries
seriously.� Kei, Kai and Michael did not
judge him or jump to conclusions.� They
did not slap him upside the head or bonk his head with their fist and call him
names as if he was still that idiotic eighteen-year-old.� They knew what Shuichi had gone through as
one of the world's most recognizable people and trusted his judgment.� Regrettably, like Shuichi, they had no idea
what to do.

�He hasn't done anything,� Michael confessed once with
a helpless shrug.

The twins had nodded in agreement with their friend�s
assessment.

�If you're right about him�,� Kei would start.

��

��unfortunately, there's nothing anyone can do until
he does do something,� Kai would finish.

That may be
true, but by then, it might be too late.

+---+---+

Chapter
4: Stalking His Prey

The sun had been up not even for an hour when the
twenty-five year old manager and music arranger found himself walking confidently
down the empty hallways of NG Productions towards the studio Bad Luck was
scheduled to use that day.

Shuffling his briefcase under his arm, he covered a
yawn that seized him.

Fujisaki Suguru was used to waking at or before
dawn.� He had ever since his cousin
offered him a job as the keyboardist for Bad Luck.� He always arrived at the studio before anyone
else and he was always the last one to leave.�
Over the years, he came to like and appreciate the peace and solitude
the silence of the building gave him.� It
was in stark contrast to when the others showed up, especially Shuichi.

The bands lead singer was a character in and of
himself.� He still looked the same as he
did ten years ago when Suguru first joined the band.� It was as if the slightly older man had
somehow found the mythical fountain of youth.�
The only thing that had changed was the man's hair.� Shuichi had changed his hair more times than
Jennifer Lopez had boyfriends.� Cruel,
but true.� It had gotten to the point
where everybody started placing bets on what Shuichi's hair would look like
that day.� When Shuichi found out what
they were up to, he at first had been angry, but then he started playing
along.� Now he came in with the most
outrageous hair colors and styles imaginable.�
Hiro, knowing Shuichi the best, usually won the bets, except for this
last time.� Nobody predicted Shuichi
would go back to his original hair color.�
He had been all shades of blond, everything from white blond to
strawberry blond, several shades of purple, aqua-blue, sea green and everything
in-between.� One time, he went as far as
to stripe his hair like the back of a skunk.�
Suguru had to admit Shuichi was just as creative and imaginative with
his hair as he was with his music.

��

Adjusting his briefcase, Suguru reached out for the
doorknob of the studio door when the handle turned out of his hands.� The young manager swallowed a squeak and
jumped.� His heart leapt in his throat.� Sighing, he saw one of NG's janitors standing
on the other side of the door.

�Oh!� Gomen
nasai, Fujisaki-san,� the man cried out, bowing apologetically.� �I'm terribly sorry!�

Suguru waved the man's stuttering apology aside.� �Don't worry about it�Niwa-san, isn't it?�

The man's eyes widened.� �Hai!�
Yes, Sir,� he nodded, surprised and a little pleased someone of Suguru�s
repertoire new his name.

The younger man smiled and stepped aside so Niwa-san
could exit the studio.� �Thank you, Niwa-san and good day,� he
bowed as the man dragged a bulky vacuum behind him down the hall.� Suguru shut the studio door behind him as he
entered.� Setting his briefcase on the
couch, he removed his lightweight jacket and draped it on a hook on the back
wall, thinking about Niwa-san.

��

He knew nothing about the man.� Nobody did.�
The man was a complete mystery.�
He was a hard and diligent worker.�
He never complained and could put up with all the lunacy that happened
on a daily basis at NG.� That was a very
definite plus for any worker that was hired at the record company, but still,
Suguru could not place a finger on what it was, but the guy gave him the
creeps.� Like that meeting just now.� What had the man been doing in the studio
with the door closed?� If he had been
cleaning it, like the vacuum suggested, where had his cleaning cart been?� Suguru had not spotted it as he made his way
from the elevator to the studio and he definitely had not heard the loud,
obnoxious thing.

Suguru snorted and mentally slapped himself.� �Definitely spending too much time with
Shuichi,� he muttered with a disgusted shake of his head.

For the past month, Shuichi had been in one of his
paranoid, schizophrenic moods and when both Hiro and Eiri stopped listening,
the singer turned towards the rest of them.�
Stupid he had actually listened to his rants.� Suguru hit himself for that now.� Because of that idiot, he was now thinking
everyone was out to get them.

�Stupid Shuichi,� he mumbled as he took out the CD-ROM
that he had copied yesterday's recording session on from his briefcase.�

He had taken it home to work on it instead of staying
at the studio as he usually did because by the end of the day, he had had the
most painful headache.� It had felt as if
his head were going to explode.� He
wondered dryly what- or should he say who- the cause of the migraine had
been?�

The label on the front of the case read, �Send Me An
Angel�.� They were doing another cover
song for their album.� He booted up the
computer and slipped the CD into the drive.�
The sounds of an acoustic guitar accompanied by a light synthesizer in
the background filled the large studio as Media Player automatically played the
CD.� Then Shuichi�s voice filled the
studio.

The wise man said just walk this way

To the dawn of the light

The wind will blow into your face

As the years pass you by

Hear this voice from deep inside

It's the call of your heart

Close your eyes and your will find

The passage out of the dark

+---+---+

Niwa-san heard the strains of the music blaring
through the studio door as he walked down the hall dragging the vacuum behind
him.

Here I am (Here I am)

Will you send me an angel

Here I am (Here I am)

In the land of the morning star

That had been a close one.� He always knew that Fujisaki Suguru came into
the studio before anyone else but it was not even six-thirty in the
morning.� What in the world was the man
doing here so early?� It was a good thing
he had had enough sense to bring along the vacuum; otherwise, he would have
been in deep trouble.

Sweating bullets, Niwa-san hauled the bulky
contraption that was supposed to be a vacuum cleaner into the maintenance
closet.� With a last look into the hall
to make sure nobody had sneaked into the building without him knowing and would
surely overhear him, he shut the door and pulled out his phone.� Flipping it open, he dialed a phone number he
knew from heart and waited for the owner to answer.

+---+---+

Rinjin Yasashii was tucking his Bad Luck vintage
t-shirt into a pair of old, worn out blue jeans when he thought he heard
something over the strains of �Anti-Nostalgic�, an older Bad Luck song.

��

Buttoning his pants, the man grabbed the remote from
the top of the dresser and turned off the radio, the room falling into sudden
silence.� He cocked his head and
listened.� The peace was shattered by a
lone voice singing a cappella.

Karada o tsutau ame ni (at the rain trickling down my body)

furueru awai omoi (a fleeting
emotion trembles)

guren no yuuwaku ni (at the
blazing red temptation)

samayou yoru ga akera (the wandering night ends in dawn)

mabushi kiseki o irodoru smashing blue (the smashing blue that colors the brilliant miracle)

His head shot towards the sound.� The light on his cellphone-blinked green as
Shuichi's voice repeatedly sang the verse of �Smashing Blue�.� He walked across the room and grabbed the
phone off the nightstand.� He recognized
the phone number.� He flipped the phone
open.� The singing stopped in
mid-sentence.�

�Kakei,� he greeted.�
�How'd it go?�

��

�I almost got caught by Fujisaki Suguru.�

Yasashii blinked, taken back.� �How?��
He sighed, shaking his head.� That
was stupid question.� �Never mind.� So, what was the problem?�

�Batteries.�

�Are you serious?� Yasashii laughed.

�Yep.�

�That's good.�
Thanks.� Same spot, same time, same
amount.�

�Nuh uh!� No
way!� If it had been something other than
a worn out battery�I want two-hundred-thousand more.�

Yasashii sighed, racking his fingers through his
hair.� �Fine, but only this one
time.� Next time, you're on your own and
shit out of luck.� Hear me?�

Kakei sighed irritably.� �Fine.�

�Good.� Let me
know what you find out.�

�Yeah, yeah.�

Yasashii flipped his phone closed and set it back down
on the nightstand.� Standing up, he
crossed to his closet and grabbed a belt.�
Stringing it through the belt loops; he shoved his wallet into the back
pocket of his jeans and grabbed his keys and cellphone before heading out.

+---+---+

Shuichi was not sure how long he sat there, his head
between his knees, waiting for the nausea and lightheadedness to pass, but by
the time he finally managed to lift his head and stand up without feeling as if
he was going to pass out, the water had turned ice cold.� Knowing Eiri was going to be pissed at him
for taking so long and for using up all the hot water, he quickly washed in
record time.� Five minutes from start to
finish.� He made a mental note never to
mention how fast he had been to his blond lover.� The older man would expect Shuichi in and out
just as fast from now on, which was never going to happen again.� Today had been a fluke.� Who would want to stay under the spray of
ice-cold water?

Shivering from the lack of warmth, Shuichi slipped
quietly into the bedroom and threw on the clothes he had picked out the night
before as quietly as he could, trying to give Eiri as much rest as
possible.� Because as tense and tired as
he was after last night, the singer knew his boyfriend would be even more
so.� What was it he always said?� The pitcher got tired during a game.

Shuichi chuckled as he slid into a pair of designer
loose blue jeans that were worn at the knees and a white button down shirt over
a tight black T-shirt that had a decal of a peeling skull on it.� Without bothering with socks, Shuichi yanked
the towel off his head and let his long black hair spill around his face.

He glanced at his reflection as he ran a comb through
the tresses.� Maybe it was time to cut
his hair.� What should he do to it this
time?� He would have to ask his
hairstylist to surprise him.� As he slipped
on his watch, he wondered if he would have time before Suguru expected him at
the studio to get it done.� Even if he
did not, he could always make time.� They
had plenty to do at the studio without him.�

He slipped tiny diamonds studs in his ears and was
securing his hair at the nape of his neck with a black hair tie when he noticed
something on the side of his neck.

Leaning towards the mirror, he tilted his head to the
side and glanced out of the corner of his eye.

�What in the world?�

He ran his fingertips lightly over it.� A red-hot blush warmed his face as he
realized what the mark was.� Eiri had
given him a hickey and not an ordinary one at that.� He was used to having those all over his body
and showing them off like badges of honor, but this time Eiri had done nothing
less than mark him.� The mark was the
equivalent to having no trespassing signs posted all over your property with
the warning that all intruders would be shot.�
Shuichi blushed deeply at the thought.�
Knowing his blond writer lover, Eiri would do just that.

��

Shuichi caught the huddled form of his lover in the
middle of the bed behind him.� His smile
softened and a dreamy look settled over his face.� Sighing, he crossed the room and sat down on
the edge of the bed.� He placed a hand on
the lump, shaking it lightly.

�Hmmm.� Do you
have a death wish?� Eiri muttered softly through the heavy layers of blankets.

Shuichi laughed.�
�Eiri, I'm heading out.�

�Hmmm,� came the mumbled reply.� �What do I care?�

Shuichi chuckled with an amused shake of his
head.� �At least, give me a kiss
goodbye!�� When the covers were thrown
back, Shuichi gasped.� He jumped to his
feet.� �Eiri!� Oh my god!�
What's wrong?�� His lover was as
pale as the white sheets he was lying on.�
His eyes were red and glassy and his nose was running like Niagara
Falls.

�What the hell do you think?� snapped the hoarse
reply.� Eiri shut his eyes, a headache
threatening to split his head wide open.

Shuichi crawled across the bed on his knees.� He placed a hand on his lover's forehead and
cursed.� �Shit, Eiri!� You're burning up!�

Eiri flopped onto his back and with a dramatic
moan.� He flung the covers back over his
head.� �That's what happens when you get
sick.�

The singer stared open mouthed in shock at his lover.� Eiri had never been sick a day in his
life.� The guy had an immune system to
rival that of the continuing popularity of Bad Luck.� Shuichi had no idea what to do.� Should he call in sick and stay home to take
care of his bedridden lover?� Should he
take Eiri to the hospital?� Maybe he
should call up Tatsuha.� The younger
monk-

�Don't even think about it,� came the muffled retort.

Shuichi blinked.�
�What?� I didn't-�

The covers were thrown back.� Eiri pushed himself up and leaned back against
the headboard with a groan.� �You didn't
have to say anything.� We've been
together for so long; I've developed the ability to read your mind.� Not that there's much to read in there,� he
added with a smirk.

Shuichi's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of
water.� Part of him was squealing like a
schoolgirl to know that the love of his life knew him that well, but the other
half wanted to slam the man into the coffee table just in spite of that insult.� �Bastard,� he cried out with a chuckle, lightly
punching his blond lover's shoulder.

Eiri rubbed his shoulder.� �You call that a punch?�� He snorted with a shake of his head.� �Pathetic!�
I've known girls that could hit harder than you!�

Shuichi fumed.�
Then he got a sly idea.� An evil
smile lit his face and his eyes gleamed in mischievousness.� �Hard, huh?�

With a raised eyebrow, the romance writer watched in
amusement as his small lover crawled over him and straddled him.� Eiri placed his hands on Shuichi's narrow
hips.� �May I help you?� he asked with a
sniffle.

Shuichi's smile grew.�
He shook his head.� �Nope, but I
can help you.�

�Oh?� How?�

�You said you wanted it�hard, right?�

Eiri drew his brows down, a mixture of confusion and
anticipation battling under his blank face.�
�You think you can give it to me�hard?�� He shook his head.� �I don't know about that.�

Shuichi shook his head, that evil expression still on
his face.� He stood up on his knees and
shucked the blankets to the end of the bed.�
Settling on his hands and knees, he placed his face a hair's breathe
away from his lover's cock.� He glanced
through a shield of bangs that had gotten loose and peered at the older man
slyly, a knowing glint on his face.� �I
never said I would give it to you.� I
said I can help you get it hard.�

Eiri gulped, already getting hard at the images his
little lover was sending into his head.�
�You're going to be late,� he squeaked.

Shuichi licked his lover's already hard manhood.� He chuckled deeply when he heard his sharp
indrawn breath.

�You're going to catch my cold,� Eiri tried again.

Shuichi nuzzled his lover with his nose.� �What's your point?� If I get sick, we can spend all day in bed
together.�

Liking the sound of that, Eiri reached out and yanked the
band out of Shuichi's hair, letting the long locks fall free.� He liked to feel the man's hair over his
naked body.� �Deal,� he said
hoarsely.� He grabbed a fistful of his
young lover's hair as Shuichi licked his stiff cock.

Shuichi leaned back a little and licked his lips.� He stared into his lover's golden hazel
eyes.� God, how he loved this man!

---TBC---

Preview: And on the
Seventh Day�

A/N:� �the shit starts to hit the fan.� What do you guys think so far?� Like it?�
Love it?� Hate it?
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This I Promise You (edited & revised)