It was Saturday morning in the Shindou-Yuki household - and a quiet Saturday morning, at that. A quiet, *early* Saturday morning; it wasn't even seven o'clock, yet. The curtains of their bedroom were closed, and so the sunlight shone a beautiful shade of orange against the shades without penetrating them.

Shuichi yawned and stretched out on the mattress, wiggling his toes. The blankets had escaped his grasp sometime during the night, and now he was only half-covered by their warmth. He supposed it was a good thing it wasn't winter; he hadn't gotten cold throughout the night.

With a little grunt, Shuichi yanked some of the covers back from his bedmate. For all his talk of Shuichi's relentless restlessness and irritating mannerisms, Yuki Eiri could damn well hog the sheets when he wanted to.

Yuki, snoring softly throughout the entire one-sided tussle for some of the covers, didn't even shift when Shuichi gained some control. Shuichi wrapped some of the blankets around himself, yawning again and quelling the habit to hide the motion with a fist. He had nowhere to go today; there was no practice with his fellow members of Bad Luck, Yuki had said he wasn't going to be doing any great deal of writing, and they didn't have anywhere they had to be.

One would wonder why Shindou Shuichi was awake so early on a day that he didn't have to be. He might have attributed his sudden waking to the weather, or feeling ill at ease, or even the fact that he'd gone to bed too early the night before (though he'd done nothing of the sort).

Well...it had been a dream; an interesting dream that had lingered even after his gradual awakening - a dream that had left him with a burning question about his lover. It prodded at him now, the need to know refusing to relent.

He rolled over, twisting around under the covers so that he was facing the sleeping Yuki. Shuichi's blond lover was sprawled on his back, his head turned ever-so-slightly to the side, soft snores acting as precursors to the exhalations that escaped his slightly parted lips. Shuichi licked his own at the sight. Gorgeous. Yuki Eiri was gorgeous.

He was also secretive, private, and didn't like revealing anything about his past unless it was forced out of him. That might pose a problem.

Shuichi nibbled his lower lip, the momentary distraction of admiring Yuki's sleeping features yielding to the question that had followed Shuichi from the dreamscape into the waking world.

Shuichi had decided long ago that he wanted to learn *everything* about his quiet, silent lover. No stone unturned, no dark corner unexplored, and no personal detail unknown.

And so this...this dream-induced query that had roused him from his peaceful Saturday-morning slumber...it could not be ignored. Shuichi *had* to know.

So he raised himself onto one elbow so he could stare down at his sleeping partner. Then he reached out and tapped Yuki's lips with one index finger. The other man didn't stir at the contact. Shuichi's brow furrowed. Another thing about Yuki was that he slept like a log when he was tired. They had most certainly *not* fallen asleep early last night, and there was no doubt in Shuichi's mind that his Yuki would need to sleep for another few hours, yet.

But this couldn't wait.

"Yuki." Shuichi added quiet little whines to the tapping. "Yuki. Yuki. Yuki. Yuki, Yuki, Yuki." His smile widened when Yuki's nose twitched at the insistent tapping. "Yuki, Yuki, Yuki..."

Shuichi continued the tapping, prodding the other man to unwilling wakefulness. Yuki began to groan a response to Shuichi's continuous string of "Yuki". The groan escalated and began to form Yuki's possible word of the day.

"Yuki, Yuki, Yuki..."

"What, what *what*?"

The last was punctuated by Yuki's eyes snapping open. Shuichi met Yuki's annoyed, cranky expression with one of his trademarked bright smiles.

"Ohayo, Yuki!"

Yuki gave him a mild glare, and then turned to glance at the neon-green numbers on their bedside alarm clock. "It most certainly is *not* morning."

Shuichi's smile broadened, and he dropped a quick kiss to Yuki's lips. "We have to talk."

Yuki's eyebrows rose. No doubt he was wondering what had compelled his lively little lover to say those ominous words. "Can't it wait?"

Shuichi shook his head. "No, it can't." And it couldn't. It might be hard to broach the subject with Yuki, but he hoped that with all they had shared, Yuki would divulge the information without the need for too much convincing.

"Yuki..."

The blonde's face became intent, searching for something in Shuichi's serious expression. "What?"

"There's something...I have to know." Shuichi closed his eyes briefly, remembering the shocking bit of information the dream had provided him. Could it have been true? Surely not. Surely Yuki Eiri would have...a much more creative... Surely he wouldn't have... "I..."

Yuki looked minutely concerned now. The author propped himself up on one elbow and turned so that their faces were mere inches apart. "What, Shuichi? What do you need to know?" Unspoken was why it was so important that it couldn't wait until a more decent hour.

Honest, open, and always to the point, Shuichi swallowed and just asked the question he so badly needed the answer to. "Yuki...

"I...

"Uhn...

"What's your cock's name?"

Yuki's face was suddenly reeling away from his as the blonde flopped back against the pillows. Shuichi stared down at him, watching one of the author's eyes twitch, waiting for an answer that would reassure his fragile confidence in Yuki's creativity.

He didn't get the response he'd been hoping for.

"Shuichi." Yuki's voice was dangerously quiet.

"Uh, yes?"

Silence. And then, "I *can't believe you woke me up for that*."

To Yuki's credit, the words had been emphasized but not angrily shouted. Shuichi whined a little all the same, reaching out to rub Yuki's lips soothingly.

"Yes, but it's important." Shuichi winced again when he felt those perfect white teeth sink into his fingers. "Please, Yuki?"

"Against my better judgement," Yuki answered, releasing Shuichi's fingers, "I am going to give you the benefit of the doubt. I am going to allow myself to believe that you have a good reason for..." He paused with a grimace, "...for waking me up at the crack of dawn to ask me if my penis has a name."

"What do you mean 'if'?" Shuichi sputtered. He smacked the mattress. "Yours has a name, doesn't it? A beautiful, creative name! Just like you - beautiful and creative!"

"*What* are you talking about?" Yuki demanded, truly irritated now.

Shuichi allowed his lower lip to quiver, and aimed his wobbly, worried eyes at his lover imploringly. "I had a bad dream," he confessed.

"About my cock?" Yuki grumbled, sounding like he thought the entire nightmare confession was some kind of silly ploy.

"Yes!" Shuichi blurted.

He wasn't quite sure how Yuki took the affirmation. From the way it looked, Yuki was debating between going back to sleep or dialing a mental hospital. He was frozen still on the mattress, one eye open, looking very suspicious.

"Excuse me?"

Suppressing a shudder, Shuichi dove to Yuki's side, molding himself to the other man's torso. He began his tale as Yuki slipped a tentative arm around his body.

"It was my birthday, and you took me out to dinner. We went to some nameless fancy restaurant and had wine, dessert, and everything." Shuichi, despite the impending doom of the dream, felt his stomach flutter when he recalled how warm and caring Yuki had been.

"That sounds rather nice, actually," Yuki mumbled, letting his eye drift shut again.

"Yes, but I'm not finished!" Shuichi shook his head and hurried on. "After dinner, you took me to a movie." He flashed another winning smile. "It was a chick-flick, so we could hold hands and cuddle!"

Yuki groaned and reached down to pull the covers over his head. "I don't even want to know which movie it was..."

"Well...*I* don't even know," Shuichi admitted. "I just know it was a romance flick. And after the movie, we--"

"Just get to the point," Yuki grumbled, the sound only a little muffled from the covers.

Shuichi bristled. He'd been hoping to share all the romantic details of their ethereal evening together. Yuki was rarely amorous to the extent he'd been in Shuichi's fantasy, and he wanted to share the experience with his cranky lover. But Yuki was also tired and grumpy, so Shuichi decided not to push his luck.

"Well...after we walked around town for awhile, we came back home and..." He swallowed, feeling his cheeks redden a bit even though he had no real reason to embarrassed, anymore. "Well, we were getting ready to make my birthday...complete..." He trailed off, biting his pinky finger to suppress a naughty giggle.

"I see." Yuki's voice was bored and dry. "Since when does lovemaking scare you?"

Shuichi flinched, the thought of a tumble with Yuki vanishing and making way once again for the terror. "Since..." He bit his lip, worried at it with his teeth. "Since..." He sat up straight, wrapping his arms around his own shoulders. "Since...since you said, 'Come on, Murphy, work your magic'!"

He blurted the words with his eyes squeezed shut, and his voice had risen to a shrill squeak by the end of the confession. He took a few moments to calm down, inhaling and exhaling to help relax him. When he opened his eyes and turned his head, he saw that Yuki had lowered the covers and was giving him an unreadable expression.

It was a few moments before Yuki spoke. "...Excuse me?"

Shuichi shook himself, burrowing back down under the covers to press against Yuki's side. "After we stripped, you laid me back against the mattress, looked down at yourself, and asked me what I wanted. When I said I wanted you, you said...you said..."

"'Come on, Murphy, work your magic'."

"Yes!" Shuichi shuddered. "Say it isn't so, Yuki! Say that you have a...a better name for it than 'Murphy'!" Shuichi dropped his head to the pillows, burrowing his face against Yuki's shoulder.

For several minutes, Yuki remained an unmoving, horizontal pillar on the bed, letting Shuichi cling to him with an almost desperate force. It was when the silence had stretched on for awhile that Shuichi noticed he was once again trembling a little. But he couldn't help it. If his brilliant writer-lover couldn't muster up enough imagination to think of a better name for his unit...

Was there some sort of psychological connection to what a man named his third leg?

"Yuki," Shuichi uttered, knowing his voice was muffled, "you...haven't answered me, yet."

"I'm trying to think of how to break it to you," the other man replied wryly.

Shuichi's heart caught in his throat. "You mean...it's true...?" Could ingenious, inventive Yuki *really* have chosen a name like "Murphy"...?

"Well, no," Yuki replied, sounding somewhere between bemused and unsettled.

Yuki's "no" hadn't had a tone of finality to it, which meant the author was probably going to continue. Shuichi didn't give him the opportunity, though, throwing an arm across his chest almost roughly, sighing in relief and joy.

"Yokatta!" he breathed. "I couldn't believe... I couldn't..." He squeezed Yuki tighter, raising his head so he could rest it in the crook of Yuki's neck. He pressed a firm kiss to the column of skin. "Say, Yuki...what *is* his name?"

"'His'?"

"Yeah." Shuichi raised his head so he could look down at Yuki's face. The author was wearing a somewhat guarded expression. "You know...*its* name."

Yuki raised an eyebrow, guarded expression yielding to wry amusement. "You mean my--"

"Yeah, that."

"Oh... Well, that's what I was trying to tell you: 'he' doesn't have a name."

Shuichi blinked, taking a moment to absorb the information. "He *doesn't*?" he sputtered at last, genuinely surprised.

The corner of Yuki's mouth quirked upwards. "No, it doesn't. Why, does yours?"

"Of course!" Shuichi nodded to emphasize the point. "Men *have* to name theirs, Yuki; it's *tradition*."

"So I've heard," Yuki answered dryly.

"How come yours doesn't have a name?"

"How come yours does?"

Shuichi wrinkled his nose. "I already told you: tradition. Besides," he added a touch naughtily, "sometimes it really *is* like they're separate people, hm?"

Yuki did a good job at masking his open amusement, but not good enough. "Well, I'll grant you that." He gave Shuichi a measuring look. "And so what is Little Shuichi's name?"

Shuichi made a face. "Well, it certainly isn't 'Little Shuichi', that's for sure."

"Shuichi Junior, then?"

"No!" Shuichi pouted. "Give me some credit, Yuki. I'm more creative than *that*."

"How about 'amplifier'?"

"No."

"Flute?"

"No."

"100% all-beef thermometer?"

Shuichi flinched at the euphemism, and then aimed a mild glare at his lover. Yuki was trying to hide a smirk - unsuccessfully, however. "Absolutely *not*."

"Anaconda?"

"Yu~ki..."

"Incredible heat-seeking moisture missile?"

"*Yu-KI*!"

"Encore?"

"Do you want to hear *my* name for him, or not?" Shuichi wailed, feigning hurt.

"The Arm of Justice? Sonata? Tuba?"

"Yuuuuuki..."

"All right, all right," Yuki subsided, perhaps sensing the beginnings of Shuichi's actual impatience. "So, what have you named your...friend?"

Shuichi beamed brightly - probably too brightly for that hour of the day - and smacked his lover with a sloppy kiss. "The best name I could have possibly *ever* named him!" he proclaimed, not bothering to hide his pride.

His boyfriend licked his lips, lapping up the saliva Shuichi had covered them with. "And that would be?"

"Yuki's." The silence that followed his revelation was louder than a clap of thunder. Yuki didn't move an inch, and Shuichi remained frozen where he was, his face still fixed with that proud smile. The moments stretched on, until finally Yuki's mouth started to work. The novelist's lips moved as he attempted to form words.

"Shuichi..."

"Yes?"

"...That's terrible."

Shuichi crashed to the floor. Or he would have, had there been no bed under him. As it was, he merely fell face-first back onto the mattress with a strangled groan. "It is *not*!"

"Yes, it is."

"What's so bad about it?!" *He'd* thought it was a wonderful name to describe it! He's was Yuki's his heart was Yuki's, his body was Yuki's, *it* was Yuki's...

"It's not very original."

"So?" Shuichi turned over once again, raising himself on one elbow to face his lover. The sheets were now tangled around his lower body, but he didn't care. "*You're* the one who's supposed to be the creative one!"

"You're a song writer," Yuki pointed out.

"A bad one, according to you!" Shuichi retorted. "It doesn't need to have an ingenious name, because it's only for you! And sometimes, for me," he lamented.

"Well then, why not just call it 'penis'?"

"Because that's *too* unoriginal. It has to have a *name*. It's just that it can't be...too generic..."

Yuki nodded, closing his eyes as he absorbed that information. "All right, so it's mine. I'm fine with that. Now, both you and him let me go back to sleep."

Shuichi made a face that he hoped was condescending - not caring that Yuki couldn't see it with his eyes shut. If Yuki's unit didn't have a name, then by the gods, it *would* before they went back to sleep.

"Nuh-uh," Shuichi scolded, reaching out and shaking Yuki's shoulder. "No sleep until you name yours."

Yuki breathed a soft sigh. "I'm not in the mood for games, Shuichi. We had a late night and I'm not getting out of bed until sometime this afternoon."

"Well, the sooner you name it, the sooner we can go back to sleep." At the sight of Yuki's brow furrowing, Shuichi added, "I mean it."

Yuki shrugged on shoulder sleepily. "If you like it so much, *you* name it."

"Doesn't work that way," Shuichi said. "Each man must name his own. That's just the way it is."

"Well then, I'll just call him Murphy."

"Nooo!" Shuichi protested with an emphatic punch to the mattress. "Not Murphy!"

"Oh. Then, I'll just call the entire gang down there Willy, Wally, and Bob."

"*Bob*?!" Shuichi spluttered. "No, no, no."

"What say do you have in it, anyway?" Yuki taunted. "You said that every man had to name his own. I don't have to confer with you."

"Yes, you do," Shuichi corrected. "I have just as much claim to it as you do."

"Really, now."

"Well, maybe a little less, but still! I don't want an intelligent, creative, novelist lover who can't think of a good name for his penis."

"Novelist, hm...?"

"Pick a good name, Yuki!"

"I'm thinking, I'm thinking..." It only took Yuki a moment before he smirked. "I'll call it 'Ballpoint Pen'."

Shuichi twitched and tried to suppress his giggles. "*No*. That sucks!"

"Laptop?"

"Bleh! No."

"Well, how about Plot Device?"

Shuichi opened his mouth, paused, closed it, considered, and then blurted, "That's bad, too."

Yuki sighed again, heavier this time, and rolled over so that he was facing Shuichi. One blue eye opened and stared balefully at him. "You're not going to let up until I satisfy you, am I right?"

Shuichi's mind went into the gutter for a moment before he managed to steer it back. "Nope. Come on, Yuki, satisfy me..."

Yuki lapsed back into silence for a few minutes, his eye closing once again. Just as Shuichi was about to prod him once more, certain he'd fallen asleep, Yuki's voice broke the short period of silence.

"I'll name it Bad Luck."

Shuichi brightened. That was *certainly* a better name than "Murphy". "I like it!" Switching his tone to a light, teasing one, he added, "What made you pick it?"

Instead of alluding to Shuichi's band or profession, Yuki smirked and replied, "It's named after you."

Shuichi started. "Eh?!"

Yuki's smirk was a touch smug when he elaborated. "Well, getting saddled with you was bad luck."

Shuichi flopped onto the bed again, pushing his face hard into the pillow. "*Yuki*!! Hidoi!" Really, of all the...!

"Relax, relax," Yuki chuckled, and Shuichi felt his lover's hand rub his back. "You didn't let me finish. It *was* bad luck, at first."

Shuichi sniffed, knowing Yuki wouldn't hear it very well because of the cushion his face was pressed into. "And what is it now?" he mumbled, rolling back over. He didn't raise himself this time, so now he and Yuki were eye-to-eye.

"Well..." Yuki reached over and wrapped an arm around him, "it seems to have worked out in the end, hasn't it?"

Shuichi let the other man enfold him in a comfortable embrace. "Yeah," he admitted, acknowledging that their relationship had been rocky for a long time prior to stabilizing.

"So you like the name?" Yuki asked.

Shuichi thought about it. It was symbolic, it could have more than one meaning, and most importantly, it was better than "Murphy". "Yeah," he sighed contentedly, "it's wonderful."

"Good." Yuki gave him a quick squeeze. "Now, back to sleep."

Shuichi opened his mouth, readying an offer, but Yuki beat him to it.

"And when we wake up...maybe Bad Luck and Yuki's can...get acquainted."

Shuichi grinned, pressing closer to his lover. He decided not to point out that their two friends had already met. But he was sure that both would like to say "good morning" to one another, later...