A Story for Shuichi
By Nix
Disclaimers: I don't own gravitation.
Eiri's fingers lingered on the keyboard. The keys were long ago smoothed over, shiny even in the modest light from his monitor. Shuichi was asleep in their bed. Eiri knew this to be true as much as he knew his heart beat. What he wasn't sure of was the next novel that was meant to flow from his fingers.
He had given the outline to of Standing in the Snow to his editor. She loved it. It would be easy to write. He wanted to write something else. The story his heart called him to didn't have a name yet. It didn't have a whole story yet. What it had was the promise of Shuichi smiles, of peels of delighted laughter, and the rolling of those beautiful violet eyes. He wanted to write a story for Shuichi.
Restless, he left the keyboard and padded silently through their house. So many things had changed. From the refrigerator, he retrieved an expensive bottled water. His ulcer didn't need the beer and neither did his soul anymore, but it also couldn't stand the damn pop that Shuichi drank.
Dishes sat in the sink still, from having Tohma and Mika over. The evening had been pleasant. The night had begun better than the evening as he'd made love to Shuichi, and held his singer until sleep had evened his breathing, lulled him to peaceful dreams. Morning was near now, and standing on their porch, bottle of sparkling water paused against his lips, it was as though he were racing the sun to answer his question. Did he write the novel his editor wanted, or did he write the novel he wanted to give Shuichi?
Color from the sun spread out over Tokyo. It wasn't really a contest. Shuichi won. Still, he'd write a story that spun his love for Shuichi, but shone so brightly that even his readers would love the Shuichi in his story.
"Eiri," Shuichi called softly, padding out into the kitchen. "Did you sleep at all? It's not good for you, you know that, right?"
"I know. I didn't sleep," he admitted, knowing he had to dress and go to an interview in a couple of hours, "but I dreamt a beautiful new story. A story of love that nothing could tarnish."
Shuichi smiled and almost overflowed his fruit loops he was so busy watching Eiri. "You're so gorgeous when you're dreaming up stories!"
Eiri just smiled.
Disclaimers: I don't own gravitation.
Eiri's fingers lingered on the keyboard. The keys were long ago smoothed over, shiny even in the modest light from his monitor. Shuichi was asleep in their bed. Eiri knew this to be true as much as he knew his heart beat. What he wasn't sure of was the next novel that was meant to flow from his fingers.
He had given the outline to of Standing in the Snow to his editor. She loved it. It would be easy to write. He wanted to write something else. The story his heart called him to didn't have a name yet. It didn't have a whole story yet. What it had was the promise of Shuichi smiles, of peels of delighted laughter, and the rolling of those beautiful violet eyes. He wanted to write a story for Shuichi.
Restless, he left the keyboard and padded silently through their house. So many things had changed. From the refrigerator, he retrieved an expensive bottled water. His ulcer didn't need the beer and neither did his soul anymore, but it also couldn't stand the damn pop that Shuichi drank.
Dishes sat in the sink still, from having Tohma and Mika over. The evening had been pleasant. The night had begun better than the evening as he'd made love to Shuichi, and held his singer until sleep had evened his breathing, lulled him to peaceful dreams. Morning was near now, and standing on their porch, bottle of sparkling water paused against his lips, it was as though he were racing the sun to answer his question. Did he write the novel his editor wanted, or did he write the novel he wanted to give Shuichi?
Color from the sun spread out over Tokyo. It wasn't really a contest. Shuichi won. Still, he'd write a story that spun his love for Shuichi, but shone so brightly that even his readers would love the Shuichi in his story.
"Eiri," Shuichi called softly, padding out into the kitchen. "Did you sleep at all? It's not good for you, you know that, right?"
"I know. I didn't sleep," he admitted, knowing he had to dress and go to an interview in a couple of hours, "but I dreamt a beautiful new story. A story of love that nothing could tarnish."
Shuichi smiled and almost overflowed his fruit loops he was so busy watching Eiri. "You're so gorgeous when you're dreaming up stories!"
Eiri just smiled.