ALL WRAPPED UP
Gravitation, YukixShuichi, fluff, lime, humour
There was an air of tension in Yuki’s home office.
“I don’t celebrate such nonsense,” he said. His voice was dismissive. “Needless to say I don’t even recognise it. It’s purely for commercial gain.”
Shuichi sighed. “But it’s such a romantic time…”
Yuki ignored him. “And more fool anyone who falls for it.”
“… for young lovers,” Shuichi continued, doggedly.
“I’m not young, thank God,” drawled Yuki. He looked up from his papers to find that Shuichi had hopped up – uninvited - on to the side of his desk. Shuichi, who was wearing his briefest shorts and a top that barely covered half his torso, his outrageous hair tousled from an afternoon nap and his bare legs hanging down over the side. Yuki glanced up and down the young man’s body and bit his lip. “Of course, some of us have barely passed puberty – mentally as well as physically - so are more vulnerable to childish fantasies.”
Shuichi watched the older man’s mouth, seeing the shape of each clipped word as it emerged. He licked his lips and grinned back, unfazed. “So what have you got me?”
Yuki frowned. “Didn’t I tell you, I’m editing this draft? You’re a damned hindrance. Go find someone else to infuriate.”
Shuichi’s grin didn’t falter. “What have you got me for Valentine’s Day?”
“Nothing.” Yuki gave an irritated sigh, and re-read the first paragraph for the third time. “Obviously your immaturity precludes you from hearing properly, too.”
Shuichi sniffed. “A trip to the movies? Some new clothes?”
Yuki’s head was bent over his papers, but he rolled his eyes. “God forbid I should be seen out in public with you. And be in any way involved in the outlandish costumes that you call everyday wear.”
“You mean like this?” Shuichi ran an aimless hand up under his shiny red leather sleeveless top. “It’s red, for the season. Cut especially for… fun.” The supple cloth hitched up at one side, exposing the muscles at his waist. His fingers tangled into the laces, criss-crossing down his torso, from his nipples to his navel. The hem ended a good six inches above the start of the shorts.
“Ridiculous,” muttered Yuki. “Risible.” His voice was a little hoarse.
“So you’ve got me something I can enjoy at home, instead,” said Shuichi, breezily. “Chocolate cake. My favourite soda. Those strawberry lollipops.”
Yuki snorted. It was becoming more and more difficult to concentrate on the text in front of him. “I don’t notice you denying yourself any of those, any day of the week. Wrappers and cans are scattered all over the kitchen. And those damned lollipops…”
Shuichi raised his eyebrows, apparently puzzled. “What about them? They’re my favourite.”
“They… the colouring is bad for you.” For the first time, Yuki looked disconcerted. “You become even more annoyingly hyperactive. It… your mouth stains red. All over your…”
“Lips?” Shuichi supplied, helpfully. “I can lick ‘em clean. No problem.” His tongue flickered out, briefly demonstrating his mastery of this.
Yuki swallowed heavily and grunted. “Damned fool. Childishly selfish.”
Shuichi swung his legs aimlessly, kicking gently at the desk. “So maybe you’ve got me a toy. A cuddly bear. Cute, with a bow around his neck.” He smiled, softly. “Cute, like you.” He leaned back on his hands, pushing some of the papers out of order. His hair fell forward on his forehead: he peered at Yuki through a couple of stray locks. “Yuki, don’t you want to be romantic?”
“Dear God,” Yuki groaned. He slammed his handful of papers back down on to the desk. “What the hell does it matter what I want? Seems like you’re the one the damned word was invented for.”
Shuichi’s eyes widened. “You’re angry. Am I meant to guess why? But that’s so wrong for a day that should be a celebration of love.”
Yuki stared at him. “Has the last half hour existed at all, in your fevered, shambolically disorganised brain? This is where we came in.”
Shuichi gave his sweetest smile. He liked the effect it had on Yuki: the way that Yuki’s eyes dragged themselves reluctantly – but irresistibly - to Shuichi's mouth. That look in the blond man’s eyes was very familiar. “So do you want to know what I got you?”
Yuki looked suddenly shocked. “You didn’t. You wouldn’t have been so stupid. Not any of those things, surely.”
“Surely,” mocked Shuichi, secretly adoring that look of horror on his lover’s face. “Surely you trust me?”
“Why break the habit of a lifetime?” grumbled Yuki, peering back at him with what might have been called nervousness in anyone else. “Look at that obnoxious gift you forced on me at Christmas…”
“The chocolate reindeer poo?” Shuichi started to snicker.
“And on the last anniversary that you deliberately created to humiliate me…”
Shuichi nodded. “Ah yes, the boxer shorts with ‘going down route 69’ on them. But they were your colour, Yuki.”
Yuki almost snarled. “Tell me what you’re up to before I break your nauseatingly sentimental, unfailingly idiotic neck.”
Shuichi laughed. The threats were familiar, too, and always so very lyrically phrased. “They say that the art of giving gifts to the one you love is to gift them with what they want, not what you want to give,” he murmured. His eyes sparkled. “I’ll show you, instead.”
He moved suddenly, falling back on to the desk, landing flat out with his arms outstretched. His feet bounced up, flailing in the air until his legs settled back down over the side again. Yuki almost yelped as his papers went flying and a pen leapt into the air. He scrabbled his chair backwards, his feet catching on the cables connected to his laptop. “What the hell are you playing at?”
“I’m your gift,” cried Shuichi, in a high, sing-song voice. “Look!” He reached down to his waistband and quickly unzipped. Yuki watched, startled into speechlessness. Shuichi rummaged for a moment, then pulled out his cock. It was half erect, starting to glisten with excitement, and in amongst the dark little curls was a splash of colour. It was…
“Oh my God,” groaned Yuki. “There’s a bow around it!”
Shuichi grinned up at the ceiling. He turned his head awkwardly towards Yuki, only just avoiding a letter opener and collecting a couple of sticky file labels on his ear. “You want chocolate cake instead? A night at the movies? A cuddly bear? Tell me!”
Yuki shuddered. “No,” he said. “You know I don’t.” He dragged out the words, but it was the truth.
“So you have me instead,” sighed Shuichi. “Me, with the cute red bow around me.”
Yuki couldn’t take his eyes off Shuichi’s groin. The muscles shivering on his belly: the nimble fingers now stroking himself softly to full arousal. The slim, purple-pink little thing that was rapidly swelling to a very creditable size, and bobbing up towards Shuichi’s navel. Yuki knew how the drops at its tip would taste – how it’d jerk inside his mouth when he licked the sides. How Shuichi would whimper like a trapped animal at first but would end up singing loudly for more, with words that had never seen the light of day in any of his public lyrics.
Yuki had a sneaking admiration for Shuichi’s turn of phrase at those times, though he'd rather cut off a limb than admit it aloud.
“Yuki?” Shuichi’s voice was lower than usual; slower. Huskier.
Yuki felt the saliva dry up in his mouth. “You are the most irritating, outrageous, ludicrous young man I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet.”
“Yeah,” sighed Shuichi. “Whatever.” He wriggled, trying to get comfortable on the desk. His shorts had started to crumple around his hips and Yuki could see the sweat at the top of his thighs. The skin was very smooth there. “But this is what you want, right?” His eyes were suddenly wide, suddenly nervous.
Yuki stood up and moved to stand between Shuichi's knees. He looked down on the young man, lying there in the most undignified position Yuki had ever seen, his pulse throbbing at his throat, his hand gripping the edge of the desk, and a huge red ribbon tied rather awkwardly around his cock and balls.
“Yes,” Yuki said, and was surprised at how soft his voice sounded. “You’re right, for once.”
Shuichi smiled broadly. “Sounds romantic enough for me. You gonna unwrap me now?”