Forgotten
Chapter 9: Slumber
Fall was slipping easily into winter, the abnormally chilly November floating into a strangely frigid December. Eiri sat in the dark living room, the muted television glowing a bright blue as he smoked his fifth cigarette of the last two hours. Sleep evaded him. It was Thursday night, the surgery would begin in less than twenty-four hours, and this could be the last time he saw Shuichi alive. It could get worse, it could get better.
He didn't hear the soft padded footsteps as Shuichi drifted in like the falling snow outside. The covers from the bedroom were draped around him giving him the overall appearance of a large black cocoon. Eiri's eyes darted to him in a moment of shock, and then away, back to the commercial for life insurance that was bouncing around on the screen.
"What are you doing up?" He asked; voice gravelly from the tar and nicotine in his lungs.
"I could ask you the same question," Shuichi responded quietly.
"Couldn't sleep."
"Neither can I."
Eiri looked at him again, the normally round and emotional face seeming gaunt and sick in the blue light. He shifted and patted the exposed piece of leather next to him for Shuichi to sit. The singer shuffled forward on silent feet, unwrapping his blanket and rewrapping it to include Yuki's shoulders as he planted himself next to his forgotten lover.
"Talk to me about it," Eiri offered quietly.
"I'm dying," Shuichi said easily, the calm and reassurance in the two simple words making Eiri jump. "I don't want to spend my last hours sleeping."
There was a strong silence, the room was filled with it and immense as it was, the silence made the walls seem like they were closing in. "Talk to me about it." Shuichi echoed after a moment of the intense quiet.
"You're dying," Eiri replied in a shaking voice, his entire body constricting as he said the words aloud. "I don't want to spend the last hours I may have with you sleeping."
Shuichi's smile was sad, eyes brimming with tears. "I could survive."
"You could," Eiri agreed. "I'm praying with every fiber of my being that you do, but even a one percent chance of you dying on that table is a one percent chance that I don't want to take. We're talking a forty percent chance of vegetative state."
"It's better than knowing for certain that I will die."
Eiri wrapped his left arm around Shuichi's small body, his nose automatically burrowing into the pink hair, searching for the smell of strawberries. He inhaled deeply, trying to imprint the scent into his memory, just in case, and for one insane moment contemplated gathering up all of the strawberry shampoo in Shuichi's brand in the world and hoarding it all for himself. He shook his head of the thought, blaming his weird actions on sleep and pulled away.
"You're strong."
"Will you be here when I wake up?" Shuichi asked hopefully, staring at Eiri with those huge purple eyes, wishful and wanting.
"I'll be at your side every moment you need me." He promised automatically, and then regretted the promise almost immediately. There was still that little choice he hadn't made yet, could he possibly stay with Shuichi for his own selfish purposes when Shuichi was better off without him? He wasn't even sure of his answer, and he'd been pondering it for the last two days.
"Lets do something." Shuichi said suddenly, leaping from the couch and his warm cocoon into the cold apartment. "We can't just sit here for the next few hours doing nothing, lets do something spectacular! Lets do something fun!"
Eiri's wide eyes followed Shuichi's dancing movements with surprise. The boundless energy hadn't been lost in the forgotten memories. Eiri stood and carefully folded the blanket, then set it on the couch and turned toward Shuichi.
"What do you want to do?" He asked, willing to give the dying singer anything in the world.
Shuichi's lips puckered, his brow furrowed as he thought. Then he snapped his fingers. "Let's go to a club!"
Oops. Not that. "You're sick, Shuichi." Eiri replied. "Do you really think it's a good idea to go off and party?"
"I'll just dance and I swear I won't drink! I can't drink anyway because it's against the rules…black coffee and water only, remember? For the surgery…" Shuichi's look grew distant and wistful. "Think of it, dancing, and lights, and music, and noise. It's the perfect activity to get our minds off of all this insanity."
Eiri rubbed his face, feeling the stubble on his cheek and the grease in his hair. "Let me take a fast shower first." He said, giving into his lovers desires.
Shuichi jumped into the air with a resounding "YES!" and then raced into the bedroom. By the time Eiri had caught up to him, the singers round butt was bobbing to-and-fro from the depths of the closet and random articles of clothing were flying out of the bottomless pit that was Shuichi's half of the closet. Eiri ignored his gleeful cries as the singer picked out the perfect outfit and retreated to the heat and sanctuary of a shower.
The feeling of clean hair was refreshing, the heated water unknotting his back as he lathered his spicy body soap and turned himself into a walking ball of soapsuds. The smell was soothing, normal, real, but a pink bottle of shampoo just inches from his right hand was calling his name. He wanted to smell that smell on his hair, have it plug up his nostrils with its cloying sweetness. He washed the spicy soap away and took the half empty bottle in his hands and popped the top, an immediate scent that he had come to know as Shuichi filled the room. He poured a small amount into his hands and lathered it into his hair.
Tears rolled down his cheeks, mixing with the stream of water from the shower head.
After a quick shave, teeth brushed, and hair specifically dried and gelled to his liking, Eiri finally stumbled out of the bathroom, clutching a towel securely to his waist. Shuichi had either fallen inside the black hole of his closet or disappeared into a different part of the house.
Eiri picked out an outfit from his closet, a simple pair of black slacks and a blue silk shirt. As he did up the last button on his shirt Shuichi danced back into the bedroom, his fluid steps graceful. At first Eiri didn't pay attention to Shuichi's dress, then it caught his eye, and he openly gaped.
Shuichi's jeans were a dark blue, tight and low slung. Under a black tank top with the words party animal in pink he wore a long sleeved fishnet top. His pink hair was messy and fell into his huge purple eyes. He smiled, glorious, radiant, all traces of his sickness disappearing behind his happiness.
"You look… wonderful." Eiri said quietly. The true world that came to mind would have been more like "sexy," or "hotter than hell".
"Thank you," he replied just as quietly. "You look amazing too. Are you ready?"
"Are you?"
Shuichi nodded, his smile growing wider. "Let's go have some fun."
In all reality, Eiri hated dance clubs. The loud music that was more noise with a beat than any real artistic expression, the cheap drinks that flowed at all hours of the night and day, whorish women who would fall, drunk and stupid over any man they thought was movie-star gorgeous in their alcohol induced stupor. It was surreal and stupid, no point to any of it, but it was Shuichi's element, and it was Shuichi's desire to come here and stop thinking about the next day and the rest of his life and the differences between life and death.
So he came, though he intensely disliked it. He came and followed and watched, drinking scotch on the rocks as Shuichi immersed himself in crowds, his lithe body dancing and moving in rhythm. Sweat was breaking out on his forehead, the lights made him appear slick and fantastical, unreal. Eiri watched, Shuichi laughing and screaming with the music, hanging himself on the brink of insanity.
And as he watched he thought. He thought about his life, about the life before his Tokyo apartment and his author status as the number one romance novelist in Japan. About his life after New York. About his life now.
Twenty two years old he had been on the rise, a star, famous. He'd also been dying, slowly killing himself with cigarettes and beer and refusing to sleep. He'd been living in darkness. He'd been living in fear.
Then Shuichi glided through. He was energy and devotion and love and stubbornness. Stubbornness Eiri desperately needed in his life to balance out getting everything he wanted, and needing someone to finally say no. Shuichi was beauty. He was life.
Twenty four years old and his entire life had changed. He was no longer dying, he was growing. Shuichi's energy and love feeding him, nourishing him back to life, Shuichi's stubbornness teaching him how to live again, how to be again, how to stop taking, start giving.
"Yuki!" Shuichi called as he stumbled forward, his eyes alighted with the joy of a child on Christmas morning. "Yuki, come dance with me!"
"Shuichi… I don't…"
Those eyes, so hopeful. Eiri desperately wanted to refuse, but he stood slowly and followed Shuichi into the middle of the dance floor. The music grew louder the closer they got, voices shouting, pulses rising. Shuichi danced close, his small body pressing against Eiri's in all the right places. The moved together, one body, until Eiri felt his senses go numb and his world consisted of nothing but Shuichi. The alcohol in his system was a minor buzz compared to the euphoria he felt being close to his lover once again.
Shuichi's arms reached up behind him, locking around Eiri's neck as his jumped and writhed delightfully in Eiri's arms.
Eiri stayed on the floor for one full hour, holding Shuichi, moving with him, praying this wasn't the last time they'd be together in this way. Would he ever see Shuichi again? Would he ever be the same?
The surgery was scheduled for two in the afternoon. They returned to the apartment at three in the morning, covered in cold sweat, their clothes bathed in the scents of a club, the booze, the smoke, the fear. Shuichi was laughing sporadically, giggling with the happiness of a small child. He spun around on the balls of his feet, once, twice, three times until he found himself, dizzy, standing in the middle of the living room.
"You should get some sleep, Shuichi." Eiri said as he set down his keys and wallet and phone.
"Yuki?"
"Hmm?" He looked up to see Shuichi's dark eyes watching him.
"Can I sleep with you tonight?"
Yuki had set Shuichi up in the guest room. The couch seemed so impersonal and cruel, too much of a piece of the past, and Yuki didn't want to force Shuichi to sleep with him fearing that it would be too much of a change, to fast of a pace to set in this new chapter of their relationship.
He watched Shuichi just as Shuichi watched him. Their expressions did not change, the silence did not falter. It was a full five minutes before Yuki spoke.
"Why?"
A pause, a blush in his cheeks. "I want to be close to you."
Indecision, and then, "…Alright."
Shuichi's answering smile was small, embarrassed and delighted all at once. Yuki retrieved the covers from the couch and brought them back into the bedroom. He made the bed, smoothed the sheets, fluffed the pillows, obsessively adjusting and readjusting everything.
"If it's alright, I'd like to take a shower." Shuichi said in a small voice.
"Of course it's alright. You don't have to ask Shuichi."
As the singer retreated to the bathroom, Yuki looked at the bed he'd obsessively tinkered with. It now sat perfect, designer magazine picture-perfect in fact, but he could smell the stale odor of cigarettes from the sheets and couldn't remember the last time he'd changed them. He ripped all the sheets and pillows off and took them to the laundry room, shoved them in a corner to be dealt with later and got clean sheets out of the linen closet. As he pulled and tucked and primped and plucked his heart stuttered sporadically, nerves overtaking him, hands shaking, eyes darting.
Eiri stopped and stared at the bed. It was flawless, not even a single wrinkle marred it. He brushed at non-existent dust on the pillowcases, then took his small bottle of cologne and gave it two small spurts onto the sheets.
His work was complete and yet Shuichi was still in the shower. He sighed and went to his dresser, retrieving a clean pair of boxer shorts and a pair of his nicest silk pajamas. He hadn't worn them in almost a year, preferring either to sleep with boxers, or with his clothes on as he sat in his office chair hunched over his laptop. The latter was his least favorite, but it happened the most often.
Carefully he undressed, and just as carefully he put them on. The fabric was smooth and relaxing, but strange and foreign at the same time. He went to the kitchen and got a glass of ice water, then returned and sat on the edge of the bed, holding it and sipping from it every so often. The sheets became creased because of his indentation in the bed, so he set down his glass and righted them.
The water shut off in the bathroom. Eiri froze.
One minute, two minutes, five minutes passed. There was the sound of running water from the tap as Shuichi brushed his teeth. Eiri ran his tongue over his own teeth, wishing he had thought to do the same thing. He hurried to the guest bathroom, put a glob of toothpaste directly on his tongue, and scrubbed relentlessly for half a minute, spit, swished, and hurried back, standing awkwardly in his own bedroom and wondering why, dear god, had he turned into such a sap for this kid?
And the obsessive compulsive disorder? He shook his head, blaming it on stress and lack of sleep and… god damn it… love.
Shuichi emerged in a puff of mist from the showers heat. He was holding his towel tucked underneath his arms, it reached to about mid-thigh. He smiled, his damp hair sticking to his cheeks and covering most of the blush in them. Eiri smiled back.
"I had fun today, Yuki." Shuichi said in an angelic voice. "You're an amazing person, to stay with me through all of this."
Eiri's heart tore in half as the reality of the situation crushed down on him. So many things Shuichi was no longer aware of. This Shuichi had only seen the very best in Eiri. He hadn't caught him in a bad mood, hadn't seen him raving drunk, hadn't heard him swear and curse, hadn't been there when he was writing and lost in his own dark place. He'd seen a sweet man, a kind and gentle version that Eiri was not accustomed to. This Shuichi was with a fake, a different man than the real thing. Eiri wasn't sure he could adapting to being and feeling this way forever.
"Get some sleep," Eiri said quietly. "Tomorrow will be hard enough with out you going insane from sleep deprivation."
Shuichi laughed quietly and dug through his things to find a clean pair of underwear. He put them on, Eiri looking away politely when the towel dropped. It was so odd to be prudish around Shuichi, to not watch and be appreciative of all the small boy's assets. He moved by the bed, heart thrumming faster than a hummingbirds wings.
Shuichi moved beside him, taking his hand and laying his head on his shoulder. "I'll come back. I'll come back and then this will all be over. We can be together again."
"Okay, Shuichi. Okay."
Eiri lay down and Shuichi lay beside him, curling against him, finding a niche in his arms. They fell asleep that way, perfect, dreaming of a better future than the one chosen for them now.
As Eiri drifted into unconsciousness, he thought to himself I love you…
End-10
A/N: Thanks again to all my reviewers, new and old, for your comments and critiques. I would also like to apologize for the long break between updates! I'll try to stay on top of it.
Ja ne!