On a fragile wooden chair sat a handsome blonde, a look of anguish across his face. His eyes were shielded, guarded, and only one knew how Eiri Yuki really felt.
"Shuichi?" He called. No answer. He scowled, replaying his lover's words in his head. He wasn't ready to admit defeat, but he was starting to get close, remembering the scent of Shuichi, his laugh, his eyes, his smile.
His stomach twisted and he sat up, mind running and vision blurring. Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Yuki?" A soft voice reached his ears and he raised his eyebrow, looking up. Shuichi looked vulnerable, and Eiri couldn't help but want to reach out and pull him closer, whisper encouraging words and give soft kisses to his superstar.
Instead, "What do you want brat? Just get out of my face." Shuichi's face deflated and he shook his head. A brief flash of anger crossed his eyes before disappearing.
"I think I'll crash at Hiro's tonight." With that, he made his exit, not bothering to look back.
Yuki shook his head, ridding of the thoughts and making his way to the bedroom. His stomach growled but he fought back, too tired to cook up anything new. His eyes flitted to the picture frame on his nightstand and he sighed, picking up his phone and dialing Tatsuha's number.
"This is Tatsuha." Yuki frowned, not failing to notice the way his voice shook.
"What's- "He stopped. His brother was probably in one of those moods again. But then again, his carelessness was what caused Shuichi to leave. He sighed and scrubbed his forehead, demanding his brain to discard any thoughts of the punk. "What's the matter?"
Silence. He was about to hang up when, "It's father." Yuki felt his stomach drop. His brother's voice was grave and sad. As much as he didn't like what his father wanted him to do with his life, he still loved and cared for him.
"What happened?" He asked, concern laced in his voice. His hand gripped the phone, hoping it was nothing too serious.
"He's sick, came down with some kind of fever. Normally we wouldn't be this worried but everything seems to be getting worse and worse." Sick? Father had never been sick before.
"Is Mika there?" He could almost hear Tatsuha nod from the silence in both room.
"Yes. She came with Tohma last night. Father… he misses you. Maybe, just once, you could come? With Shuichi, too?" Yuki's fists clenched at the mention of the pink haired boy, but he sighed and spoke into the receiver.
"I-I miss him too. Let me just think about the offer." He hung up, his hands shaking. He hoped his father was ok. Putting down the phone, he climbed into bed, this time not feeling any comfort in the white sheets. His eyes closed, but a few seconds later they were open and he found himself repeating he process. His brain was buzzing and he checked his watch, scoffing when he realized it was only eight p.m.
Taking the pillow from the floor, he banged his head against it, trying to find something to do.
"Creak." Yuki's head shot up from the bed and he cautiously climbed out, peeking out from his room to watch for intruders.
"Hello?" He called. No response. He tiptoed into the kitchen, peering at the door. The apartment was dark and dreary, and Yuki didn't like to admit that he was just a little bit scared.
"H- "Yuki yelped as he was pushed onto the floor, falling with a thud. Strong and familiar legs wrapped around his torso and he gasped, recognizing the voice that spoke into his ear.
"Shuichi?" He whispered. He looked up and saw the boy, his face wet and his expression loving.
"Yuki." It was a soft whisper, so soft that he could barely hear it, but he did and he squeezed back with a strong force, his heart clenching in his chest.
"I'm sorry." He gasped, arching into Shuichi's touch as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry." He could feel the smaller boy tremble, but he knew that they were alright.
They were going to be ok. And he was sure of it as they held each other, whispering to each other.
"I love you."