Rain
One-Shot
Sequel to: "Still the One"
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: It's Eiri's birthday and Shuichi has been left alone to discover another one of Eiri's little secrets.
Warning: angst, drama, romance, language, m/m, hentai
Pairings: Shuichi/Eiri
Inserts: "Here Comes the Rain", Eurythmics
A/N: The names of the cemetery are real, as is its location.
oOo
Here comes the rain again
Falling on my head like a memory
Falling on my head like a new emotion
I want to walk in the open wind
I want to talk like lovers do
I want to dive into your ocean
Is it raining with you
So baby talk to me
Like lovers do
Walk with me
Like lovers do
Talk to me
Like lovers do
-"Here Comes the Rain", Eurythmics
oOo
Again. It happened again. Why? Yes, he had the tendency to be loud, brash, annoying, and clingy. It was something he was reminded of on a daily basis, so how could he not know what his faults were? Was that why he seemed to be waking up in the morning to discover he was once again alone more and more lately? Or was it because he had horrible morning breath? Could it be that Eiri found it offensive when he refused to be his fuck hole for his morning wood until after he took a piss and shaved? Was that it? Had he offended Eiri one too many times? Or was it something else? Did Eiri not love him anymore? Had he found someone else?
Shuichi shook those negatives thought aside. He refused to give into them. Not this time. Obviously, Eiri had had a meeting with Mizuki. Again. Apparently, they were deep into discussions about some big new project or something. Eiri refused to go into any detail so he had no idea what it was even going to be. A new book? A reality show? A guest appearance on CSI or Criminal Minds or NCIS or Numb3rs or Bones or Fringe? Now that would be too cool. Eiri himself said he would fit right in with Fringe.
Shuichi stilled.
Had that been a compliment or an insult?
Unsure, Shuichi brushed it aside. The new project Eiri was working on could be a movie. Excitement rushed through him at the thought. Was one of Eiri's books going to be turned into a movie? He knew there had been talk of such for quite a few years now. Had Eiri finally given in? Now THAT would be awesome.
"Still…"
Just because Eiri seemed to be preoccupied with the stupid project of his lately did not mean that it had to take up all of his time, did it? He didn't have to leave without saying something. He could have at least left a note, or something-anything, to explain where he was and how he could be reached were something to happen.
Bad Luck had been given a rare gift. They had several months off before they were scheduled to meet to discuss plans for their next album, so with all this free time suddenly dropped into his lap, he thought that Eiri would whisk him away to some secluded unchartered island in the middle of the ocean somewhere where the two of them could be alone to do what they pleased without having to worry about prying eyes, project or not. Obviously, he'd been mistaken. It seems that this project was a hell of a lot more important to Eiri then he was.
"Jerk."
Of course, at first, they'd all thought K had hit his head or something. Why else wouldn't he push (okay, so maybe "threaten" was a better verb) for them to jump right into starting a new album the millisecond their plane touched down at Narita after their last tour wrapped? For some strange reason, K refused to give them time off, for any reason. He could be in a coma and K would still demand he show up at the studio to lay down some vocals. The American was a workaholic. Just because he forced himself to be constantly busy so that he did not have to think about how much he missed his son and wife who were back in America, did not mean that the rest of them had to work themselves to death too.
"Besides…"
In Eiri's office, the forbidden sanctuary of his golden god, Shuichi paused before the large bulletin board that was hanging on the wall above Eiri's desk. Pinned to the board amidst various notes and photographs was a calendar opened to February. Two giant red hearts had been drawn around two particular days: the fourteenth and the twenty-third. The first was Valentine's Day. The other was Eiri's birthday.
Today was Friday, the twenty-sixth. Three days ago, Eiri turned twenty-seven, but Eiri had been so busy working on this stupid project of his, whatever the hell it was, that by the time he'd returned it'd been well passed midnight. Shuichi could have laid into Eiri for being such an inconsiderate asshole, but he'd cried himself to sleep-again-hours earlier when he realized that all of the carefully laid out plans he'd had for that night had been blown to unsalvageable bits, like the city after one of K's rampages.
"Asshole."
Eiri must have realized it on his own though (Shuichi wondered if the cold roast beef, untouched strawberry shortcake with "Happy Birthday Eiri" written on the top with pink gel, the burned down candles or the dried tears on his face had been the giveaway), because the next morning there'd actually been a note.
"Maybe when things are a little less chaotic we can reschedule."
He snorted. Maybe if he "accidentally" burned down the kitchen (possibly with Eiri trapped inside), maybe then Eiri would finally tear himself away from his fucking project for five seconds.
Shuichi made to head-
He was not sure where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get the hell out of the condominium before he did something Eiri would regret later. But something on the desk caught his eye. It was a manuscript.
An evil thought formulated. A menacing grin stretched across his face.
"'Rain'," he read the title. "'Written by Eiri Y'-"
Shuichi blinked. The wicked expression slipped from his face, leaving one of confusion.
"'Written by Eiri Uesugi'," he corrected himself. "What the fuck?"
Eiri never used his real name. Never. He hated his family name. He'd even considered legally changing it.
Flipping the manuscript open, he came upon the dedication page. Usually, Eiri skipped the dedication in favor of a quote.
"'To my Baka'," Shuichi gasped. When he continued, his voice was strained. "'Who accepts and loves me for who I am and not who he wants me to be. If it weren't for you I would not be the man I am today.'"
The words blurred as a well of tears gathered in his eyes. A stray tear slipped free and rolled down his cheek. Shuichi brushed at it with a trembling hand. When his legs gave out underneath him, he collapsed into the chair.
Sniffling, Shuichi turned the page and despite his tear blurred vision, started to read.
o
Chapter 1
9:17 AM - Gate of Heaven Cemetery, Lewiston, New York
Rain. It should be raining. You ever notice how it's always raining during a funeral, especially when the casket holding the deceased is being interred in the ground? It's as if Heaven itself is weeping tears of sorrow. But today, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, not even a wisp or a stray. Does this mean Heaven is smiling? Are they happy at the pain that has befallen this family? Does their loss amuse Heaven? If my mother were here she would be swatting me a good one right upside the head for such sacrilegious blasphemy, but she isn't here. Audrey Mae Bassett passed away almost 13 years ago after losing her battle with cancer. In fact, she was buried right here in this very cemetery. Actually, she was buried at the opposite end, which was called "Riverdale Cemetery" instead of "Gate of Heaven". How I wished she were here. Maybe then she could talk some sense into me. Maybe she could stop these feelings that were swirling within me. If I cannot blame Heaven or God or whatever this unseen, not fully understood force was for its "reasons" behind such a travesty, this guilt will swallow me whole. Maybe I should allow it. When I was in tenth grade, we read Macbeth by William Shakespeare in English class. I voiced the part of Lady Macbeth. I never thought back then that she and I would have so much in common: we both have blood on our hands that stubbornly refuses to be washed away no matter how hard we scrub…
o
Later that Night
It was nearing midnight when Eiri slipped into the condominium. All was quiet. The house was dark. Hanging his coat up in the closet, he toed off his shoes and placed them neatly besides Shuichi's sneakers. At least he knew his little brat hadn't run off on him. His heart ached terribly at the thought. His keys and wallet went into the crystal dish on the desk that was sitting against the far wall in the entry hall. Shuichi's Yankee hat sat besides it in the same place it had been when he left this morning, well before the crack of dawn. This meant that either Shuichi didn't go anywhere today or he went out without putting on his hat. Both seemed likely.
Tiptoeing carefully through the condominium, he went in search of Shuichi. He found him in the first place he looked: asleep curled up in his office chair. Eiri sighed. Maybe he should put a lock on the door. Seriously. Shuichi was like a little kid. You tell him not to do something and that was what he did.
He ran a hand through Shuichi's soft black locks.
"Eiri," Shuichi mumbled in his sleep.
Eiri paused his ministrations in shock and then chuckled. Every time.
Without waking, Shuichi turned onto his other side. Something slipped from his grip and fell to the floor. Eiri bent to pick it up. It was one of his manuscripts. Or it possibly could be a script Shuichi had been asked to read over. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gotten an offer to appear as a guest star on different programs. He knew TV Asahi has been trying to get Shuichi to guest star on one of their crime-situated shows for some time now. Wondering if Shuichi's insane manager had finally talked him into accepting one of the dozen or so guest spots he was offered on a daily basis, Eiri tipped the manuscript into the moonlight streaming into the office window. His eyes widened. His head snapped up and around.
A pair of violet eyes, very much awake, was watching him.
"Where-?"
"It was sitting on your desk. You could've told me," Shuichi whispered. He unfurled himself and crossed the small space to stand besides his lover.
Eiri merely shook his head.
Rain was an autobiography. Names, places, and certain events were changed in order to protect the innocent, but in the end, it was a story of his life. He wasn't sure why he'd written it and he'd had no desire to publish it. Nobody but a select few would even know it was more than just a work of fiction anyway, but he just had not felt comfortable with his private life out there for public display. But somehow, his agent, Mizuki, had gotten hold of it. She ended up passing it along to his publisher who knew someone who in turn knew someone and before he knew it, there was talk of turning Rain into a miniseries. The release of the book would coincide with the airdate of the series. As the writer of the original script, he was called in as one of the executive producers as well as a consultant.
Why hadn't he said anything to Shuichi? Embarrassment? Discomfort? Fear? Even after all this time, he still was not comfortable with opening up to people, most especially Shuichi. The scenes he was forced to watch when he was on set were like reliving his past all over again and the last thing he wanted was for Shuichi to witness him at his worst. Maybe he didn't want to blacken Shuichi's image of him?
"Oh, Eiri," Shuichi breathed with that smile on his face that could melt Eiri's will in seconds. Shuichi rose up on his toes. Framing Eiri's face with his hands, he stared into those gorgeous golden eyes. "I told you before, remember? I don't care about your past. As long as you're here with me now that's all that matters to me."
A smile titled Eiri's lips. He clasped Shuichi's hips. "Baka."
"I love you, Eiri. Never forget that."
Eiri rolled his eyes. "Like I ever could."
Shuichi giggled lightly.
"By the way," Eiri said, "how do you feel about expanding your resume to include acting?"
Shuichi's face lit up, not at the prospect of acting, but at being able to spend his time off from Bad Luck with Eiri.
…The End
