Wind and Rain
by Nix Winter
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation
Pairing Ryuichi and Shuichi
Notes: Done as a request for some nice person who left me a review This story may not be up all that long, as I have a dead line on another story and this little bit might get used for that….
Five years, or was it seven, Shindou Shuichi wasn't sure anymore. He perched on a railing in the park where it felt like everything had started. There had been that song, and really, he figured he was better at writing songs than he had been. A million, million sales wouldn't get him the attention of one blond writer.
Still lanky, he balanced on the railing, watching the silent park below, imagining the happy families living behind the lights in widows beyond the park. Dark roots showed at the roots of his pink hair, dark circles under his eyes, and he still wore the jeans he'd worn on stage earlier, faded and ripped, tight, so alone in the park, he hardly looked like the lost little boy he'd been when so many things had started in this park. Beer bottle between thumb and pointer, he toasted the Tokyo night sky.
Love like a lie
hearts just die
I'm not going to cry
I'm not going to cry
Not anymore
You were a lie
Life is a lie.
Yeah. Shuichi took another drink of his beer. Maybe just a little better.
He was just a rocker boy, never going to grow up, never going to find where he really belonged. That was probably because he didn't belong anywhere. Hadn't he tried with all his effort to make Yuki love him. Sometimes Yuki had. Sometimes Yuki hadn't.
His jaw went tight. It was time, really, to fully admit, to accept, that Yuki had really meant it this time. "Not everyone can be your friend."
Despair almost felt freeing. Yuki was a lie. Whatever he'd seen in Yuki had been some kind of lie, fantasy. Shuichi's head slowly sank forward, chin to his chest and he let the his bottle drop from his fingers. The dark glass dropped, spilling amber drops as it tumbled, out pacing the clear drops that fell from his own soul, dropping towards the unforgiving concrete blocks below.
"I understand."
Shuichi startled, stiffened, and found Ryuichi leaning against the railing next to him. "Uh," Shuichi said softly.
"I understand giving your heart to someone who doesn't really want it," Ryuichi said, "But I also understand finding someone better to love."
"Better to love," Shuichi asked, spiky pink hair fanned out, hiding his eyes. "What do you mean?"
"I've been waiting," Ryuichi said.
"For what? For Yuki to really leave me?"
"No," Ryuichi said, holding out his hand, palm open a small box centered there.
"What is it," Shuichi asked.
"Take it," Ryuichi said.
"What is it," Shuichi asked again. Giving into curiosity he took the little box and lifted the lid. Inside was a small paper with a code written on it. "Ryuichi?"
The older musician pushed away from the railing, a soft smile on his lips. "I'm not perfect. I can be pretty crazy, but I like singing with you, and I'd like to know you. I liked to love you. It's the code to my apartment, the one here in Tokyo."
"Love me?"
"I love your voice, your mind. I love your poetry, and your strength, Shuichi. I love you. I know I'm a little strange and kind of random, but give me chance to love you?"
Shuichi wasn't sure when the had started rising, but it was, coming over those houses with the lights, which he guessed were people getting ready for work. How he'd lost such track of time, he didn't know.
Staring at the dark haired man who'd been his idol, but was now his equal, and he imagined kissing him, touching his face.
"I'm a freak," Shuichi said, closing the combination and box in a fist. "I like things."
"I like things too," Ryuichi said, suggestively. "Consider it. It'll be like working on a song together."
"Not everything's about music," Shuichi said, looking back towards the growing light t the horizon.
"It's not?"
All the love that he had in his heart, his soul, all that love needed to go somewhere. Ryuichi was beautiful, talented, brilliant, and there was already love there for him. Shuichi swung a leg over the railing so he was straddling it. "So you want to work on songs together?"
"Yeah," Ryuichi said, reaching forward to touch Shuichi's cheek, as if calming a small, scared animal, "Songs, and things."
Ryuichi leaned closer. The scent of stage make-up, of roses clung to him, and Shuichi threw himself in front of danger, the way he'd done when he'd first thrown himself in front of Yuki's car. He had to know what was at the other end of what pulled him. He would never back down to fear, ever, and as strange as it was, he wanted to be wanted.
Their first kiss touched like the sunrise, long over due and still taking it's own time, but before they could melt into each other, Ryuichi pulled back, grinning like a maniac, like a little child. "Let's get breakfast."
"You're afraid too!" Shuichi said, jumping off the rail to follow. "You are!"
"Afraid of what? That you like Yuki still?"
"I don't know, just everything." Shuichi had to run to keep up. "Ryuichi!"
And when the other singer turned, he was adult, so serious, dark purple eyes watching Shuichi skid to a halt. "Of course I'm afraid. You wouldn't be worth having, if I wasn't a afraid of what would happen to me when I lose you."
That was more honest, more intense that Shuichi could deal with right then, but he smiled, completely forgot that he'd been crying to the night before Ryuichi showed up, and rolled his eyes. "I thought we were just getting breakfast? If we get separated, you know my phone number, don't you?"
Ryuichi smiled, and it was a lighter, less theatrical smile that made him just look like a man, not like a singer, not like an idol or a beautiful doll, but just a man who could shiver with excitement about going to breakfast with someone he wanted to be with. "I know your number."