A/N: Do you remember the early days of internet fanfiction, when songfics swarmed about the net in droves? Yeah, I do too, unfortunately.

This is not a songfic. This was a challenge to myself to write a fic inspired by a song, in hopes that they could connect with each other and yet stand on their own as well. Gravitation belong to Maki Murakami, "All I Want" is property of Heart, and I hope my little bit of writing passes your inspection.

Title: All I Want

Author: Ish

I said please please understand
I'm in love with another man
And what he couldn't give me, oh
Was the one little thing that you can
All I wanna do is make love to you
One night of love
Was all we knew
All I want to do is make love to you
C'mon say you will
You want me too

Ryuichi's apartment was dark when he came home that night. He could make out the outline of the figure sitting on his couch only because of the city lights streaming in from the large balcony windows. He had left the curtains closed; his guest must have opened them. His fingers hovered over the light switch but held off on flicking it on as he called out.

"Tatsuha-kun?"

"Well, I suspected you had been sleeping with my brother, but now I'm positive."

The rockstar started visibly, recognizing that voice at once. "Mika-san!"

The woman nodded, not rising from the couch. She had helped herself to his kitchen and cradled a tea cup cradled in her hands as if she were drawing support from the warmth barely contained by its delicate eggshell porcelain. She had, however, refrained from smoking, as she usually did out of courtesy around the vocalist.

Ryuichi drew a deep breath, curious as to what his best friend's wife was doing in his place so late at night. He let Kumagorou slip gently out of his hands onto a beanbag, not quite tucking him in with the jacket that followed.

"Is Tohma here too?"

"No." Her voice was soft, its usual commanding tone absent.

"How are you?" He made his way to the couch and leaned over to switch on the table lamp but she reached up, the barest of touches on his sleeve stopping him.

"The results came back from the doctor this morning. I'm fine. There's no reason I can't conceive and bear a child."

"That's great!" He grinned at her, standing up straight again. Her fingertips slipped back down, her hand falling softly into her lap. Her lips lacked even the tiniest curve upwards.

"Tohma and I have been married for five years now and I still haven't become pregnant. And believe me," she laughed quietly, "we've tried."

"What do you want from me?" The smile had flown away from his face as if it had never been there, his eyes serious.

"A child."

"What?" Ryuichi suspected he looked pretty dumb about then, his mouth left hanging open after the exclamation as if its purpose was to catch flies and not to form words or sing lyrics.

"If you don't agree, I'll tell the papers about your little love affair with my brother."

There was a low clink as she placed the tea cup down on the coffee table, her voice firm. There was no doubt in the way she held her shoulders or arched an elegantly shaped eyebrow. Tohma Seguchi had wed this woman. Doubt, uncertainty, hesitation - these things didn't belong in their life.

"It had to come out eventually." Such things held no place in Ryuichi Sakuma's life either.

"Then I'll tell my brother about these." Beside her on the couch sat a manila folder that he hadn't noticed before in the dim lighting. Now she reached into it, pulling out several envelopes. She dropped him on the table so that he could see them clearly, then gently laid a sheet of paper on top of them. She sat back, allowing him some time to take in the evidence presented and to comprehend just how damning it was. She hadn't needed to, though; he had recognized them instantly: the lawyers' addresses on the envelopes, the kanji of his name still clear even on the photocopies of bank transfers.

"Where the hell did you get those?" His voice was tight, anger held in check just as thinly as the walls of the tea cup. He was fastidious about making his paternity payments, and just as careful ensuring that the media stayed completely ignorant - - for everyone's sake.

"Did you think Tohma married me only for my looks? Or that I wouldn't know about your reputation? You are perfectly capable of impregnating someone. The proof is right there. Just how many bastards do you have out there, Sakuma-san?"

Two. A son, and a daughter in America. He had pictures of the girl in his dresser drawer. He sent her a New Year's card and a birthday card every year, and visited her when he could, when he was in America. He had only one picture of his son in the same drawer, the boy a squalling baby with a red face, dark eyes, and the smallest shock of jet black hair. In return for it, he had promised the mother to never try and contact them, the electronic payments between their lawyers the only relationship they would have. She had married another man

"I was going to tell him eventually."

"Good. If you didn't love my brother enough to tell him the truth I'd break the two of you up no matter what."

She walked over to him, laying her hand on his chest

"Please."

Ryuichi just stared at her, eyes narrowing when her other hand pulled his down to cup her breast but otherwise making no move.

"Please understand. I'm in love with Tohma. But what he can't give me is the one thing you can."

"You're sure about this?"

"Yes."

"There's no way to guarantee…"

"I know. I promise you, I'll never ask again."

It could have been quick. She was expecting it to be. But Ryuichi was slow and unbearably gentle. His hands didn't hurry over her body and he kissed her on the mouth. She kissed him back, not understanding why but not able to even consider doing otherwise. He swallowed her moans with his mouth, drank in her gaze with darkened eyes. This wasn't sex, but it couldn't be making love either; she only did that with her husband. She didn't know what this was. But she let her palms slip down his back, gathering his sweat and mingling it with hers.

When they finally both came, neither could swear who was in their thoughts.

"Now I understand why my brother keeps coming back to you." Her long hair brushed against him as she rose, its light brown color almost returned to its un-dyed black by the shadows. She headed directly for the shower, without the merest of glances behind her or to either side. The mix of moonlight and the metropolis' electric lamplight mingled on her back, illuminating the smooth planes and curves of her naked backside and thighs.

Ryuichi watched her leave the room and then listened silently as she showered, the faint sound of rushing water filtering through the still apartment. He stood and picked up her clothes, folding them and laying them just outside the bathroom door. His own he shoved into the hamper. Without bothering to dress, he walked to his bedroom, closing the door behind him. When she finished, she would be able to let herself out of the apartment without the discomfort of exchanging hollow parting words. He let out a long breath, picking up a notebook and a pencil off of the dressing table. Soon the lead was scratching away, scarring the white of the paper with new verses. A new song.

Mika deserved that much at least.