Title: Spin
Author: Hawk Clowd
Disclaimer: so far as I know, I own nothing. Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami and I wouldn't take it away from her for anything in the world. I just like to play.
Blood Type: I don't care... Something flammable, like hairspray. Simply because you could light a match and Ryuichi would be on fire.
Warnings: very few. Yaoi, which is a fairly obvious one, considering the fandom, random smut, and possible angst.
Archived: all of the usual places.
Part: Six
Author's Notes: we're approaching the end, ladies and gents! Aren't you happy? (I know I am...) I'm thinking three more parts, max. Maybe even just one--wouldn't that be nice? It really depends on how these next bits unfold, hm?
---
Hours passed. Unable to sleep, Tatsuha eventually gave up and turned the television on low so that it wouldn't wake up Eiri or Shuichi. Then he began to flip through the channels, trying to find something that was both halfway decent and mind-numbingly boring to put him to sleep, but he was met with little success. He started dozing off around three a.m. only to be woken up an hour or so later when Eiri started rattling around in the kitchen. Tatsuha peeled himself off of the leather couch and glared in his brother's general direction, knowing full well that the writer couldn't see it.
"What the fuck are you doing awake?" he called over, more than a little peeved that his precious few hours of sleep had been disturbed so quickly.
"I had an interesting dream. I was going to write it down for future reference, but I've forgotten it already, and so now I'm making coffee. Do you want any?" Eiri asked good-naturedly. It was almost weird.
All right, so it was very weird.
"What I want is another couple hours of sleep," Tatsuha said with a groan, walking into the kitchen. "I've been up all night."
"Doing what?"
Tatsuha shot his brother a look. "What do you think?" He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've got a lot to think about before tomorrow evening, you know."
Eiri gave him a confused look. "What's happening tomorrow?"
"I'm going home, remember?" Tatsuha reminded him. "Back to the temple. My summer break is just about over."
Nodding, Eiri started looking in the cabinets for something or other. "Mm. Wasn't a very long break, was it?"
"They never are." Tatsuha looked out the window listlessly. Eiri's penthouse apartment was eight or nine stories up, so it was quite a view. "I liked hanging out here. Thanks for letting me stay."
"Yeah. It was a little bit okay, I suppose."
Tatsuha smirked. "You're just put out because Shuichi wouldn't give you any for a long while there," he accused.
Eiri shrugged. "You are more than welcome to believe whatever you want."
Yawning, Tatsuha tried a smile. "Thanks, I guess. Hey, that phone number you gave to me yesterday... It was--"
"I didn't give you a phone number," Eiri interrupted quickly. "I promised I would not meddle in your affairs if Shuichi agreed not to meddle, either, so don't you dare even try to tell anyone that I gave you the means to contact Ukai Noriko."
"I'll keep my mouth shut," Tatsuha promised. "But, you know, Shuichi really does have you whipped."
Eiri neither confirmed or denied the accusation, opting instead to narrow his eyes and then turn away to pour coffee into his mug. He pretty much always drank his coffee the same way--black for the first sip and then with two sugars after that. It was something he'd probably picked up in New York, since Eiri had never even tried drinking coffee before his trip to America.
Tatsuha wordlessly handed Eiri the bowl of sugar that was sitting on the table and the writer nodded in gratitude.
"So what are you going to do about that singer of yours, now that you've spoken to that keyboardist woman?" Eiri asked disinterestedly. Tatsuha got the feeling that the writer was only asking about it because he felt he had to, as if it was his duty as a brother to ask follow-up questions like that, and Tatsuha didn't like that at all.
"None of your business," he answered snidely.
"Fair enough." Eiri set his coffee mug on the counter and pushed it away. "Fuck. Shuichi's been fiddling with the coffee again. This stuff is shit."
"But you made the coffee, not Shuichi," Tatsuha pointed out, confused.
Eiri frowned. "That doesn't mean anything," he said stubbornly. "Sometimes Shuichi gets it into his head that he should modify the coffee beans or whatever and he'll try to add things. He usually either makes bad coffee or breaks the machine. I like it better when he breaks the machine."
"But how do you--?"
"Only Shuichi could mess up coffee this badly," Eiri said in a tone of voice that left no room for argument. "I hate it when he makes me coffee."
Tatsuha furrowed his brow. "But you still drink it," he noted. "You can't hate it that much if you keep drinking it pretty much every single morning."
"I beg to differ." Eiri eyed the coffee mug and then picked it up again, taking another gulp. Grimacing, he overturned the cup over the sink, letting the contents drip into the drain. "I swear, that brat is the only person in the world can mess up coffee when he's not even making it."
Tatsuha kept quiet.
Eiri sighed. "Well, I'm going back to bed. This crap has destroyed any and all ideas I may actually have been able to use, so there's no point in even sitting down in front of that damned computer."
It was a little known fact, but Japan's best-selling novelist couldn't stand to sit in front of his computer. For that matter, he didn't even like the computer; Eiri liked to move around while he thought and worked, but he couldn't do that if he was typing. When he'd lived in Kyoto, after the year in New York, Eiri had somehow convinced Tatsuha to take dictation for him. The writer would walk around the room, making up words and sentences as he moved, and Tatsuha would sit in front of the keyboard, typing for him. It had worked well; Eiri only had to spend about half an hour after every little "session" in front of the computer, looking for any mistakes Tatsuha may have made or revising a sentence or two, and Tatsuha had learned more about his brother than he ever had before in his life. When Eiri had moved out once and for all, however, the writer had been forced to spend more time sitting down than he'd wanted. Tatsuha theorized that this was the reason Eiri rarely made his deadlines.
"Hey, Eiri?" Tatsuha started. "Why don't you just use a recorder or something and keep all your thoughts and shit in there? Hell, you could probably even 'write' the whole book that way, on tape, and then transfer it to paper once you have it all worked out."
"Already tried it," Eiri muttered in reply. "Hated it. I'm going to bed."
Tatsuha left the kitchen in favor of his makeshift bed. Once Eiri had gone back to bed and shut the bedroom door behind him, Tatsuha pulled a blanket over his head and burrowed deep into the couch in order to attempt catching a few hours rest. Shuichi's alarm would be going off in a few hours so that the singer could get up for work, and Tatsuha didn't want to be dead on his feet for the rest of the day.
The attempt failed; Tatsuha could not get to sleep. A scant half-hour passed before he gave up and threw his covers aside, reaching for the phone. He punched a few digits and waited a moment while the phone rang. Once, twice, three--
"Moshi moshi?" a tired voice answered.
Tatsuha swallowed against the lump in his throat, desperately trying to regain use of his voice. It was harder than it should have been. "Sakuma-san?"
"Mmmgh?"
Tatsuha assumed that was some sort of confirmation. "This is Tatsuha Uesugi," he said, trying for boldness. "Do you remember me?"
"Tatsuha-kun?" the sleepy voice repeated. There was a small sound, like sheets rustling and something falling to the floor. "It's five-twenty in the morning." That sounded more like an observation than criticism, so Tatsuha let out a relieved sigh, deciding there was nothing to worry about.
"Look, Sakuma-san, I think we really need to talk."
"That's fine, Tatsuha-kun, but it's five o'clock, na no da. Can it wait until later? Like sometime after the sun comes up?"
Tatsuha shook his head and then realized that Ryuichi couldn't see the gesture through the phone lines. "No, it really sort of can't. Well, I mean, it can, but then I won't be able to sleep and I leave real soon and I don't want to fall asleep on the train and I don't think that I can--"
"Naaa, s'okay, Tatsuha-kun. There's a music store down by NG Studio called 'Tripper'. It used to be called Swizzle Stick, but some new people bought the place and they changed the name. It's a great place, na no da, so I go there a lot. If you really want to talk, I'll meet you there in half an hour, okay?"
Tatsuha let out a very long breath of air. "Yeah, that's fine. I'll see you there."
---to be continued---