Hey, hey! Don't own Gravitation, do own this fic!

Sorry if it's a bit cliché and stuff. It's also sorta AU, but I think it's decent anyway. Not as good as Maintaining Splendor though! My only piece I like.

Anywho. This is for you Miss Nanoda. You know who you are (most of the time), so here you go. Livenju!

Dark Silk and the Song of the Stars

Night. The coloring was dark blue with hints of grey, green and black. It wasn't quiet. It hardly ever is in the city. Traffic blared to the south and east. Planes hummed their tales of travel to anyone who could stand to listen. The wind, bitter and cold, and alluding to winter, blended all of these noises into one pleasurable discord.

In the park, filled with snow and hibernating trees, someone moved despite the cold and the hour. Someone was brooding and shadowed. Someone had a look of discontent upon his face. Someone was Hiroshi Nakano.

"You know what they say about the road to hell and good intentions." The words ran through his head. Taunting, teasing and never quite leaving. He regarded the past few weeks with a sorrowful retrospect. He thought he was doing good. He thought he had been motivating Shuichi when he had bribed Tatsuha. Perhaps he thought too much; and he was doing it again.

Hiro kicked a snow pile viciously as he thought about thinking. "What's wrong with me?" The words seemed to solidify in the frozen air. The fact that something was amiss with him and that he could not delve deep enough into himself to find just what was amiss.

He walked on.

He had no clue where he was walking to, but the cold, crisp, clean air felt like it helped to clear his mind, or at least to numb it. This night though, there seemed to be no end to the questions and contradictions in his mind. He was alone. He wanted to talk. He wanted someone to know what was wrong. He wanted to know what was wrong.

Absently he scuffed along the slippery brick walkway, hands in pockets, head bowed, puffing plumes of blue-white breath into the night.

Think gold. Warm, colorful and humorous. The cooking show. Looking back, it was hilarious and they had filled their part well. They had provided the needed laughs. Shuichi was completely manic and he was trying his hardest. They had come out at best with a carrot and peas and some burnt something that may have once been food.

So they couldn't cook. Not many people could. He couldn't, Shuichi couldn't, Tatsuha had been their only hope, and he had failed too.

Hiro got defensive again. Tatsuha. How could that man kiss his own brother's boyfriend? Easily. Regarding the life that the young monk led, it was easy to believe that he would kiss anything that moved. He had even tried to kiss Hiro. What was that about?

It was because of his hair. Tatsuha mistook him for a girl. Common enough. Frustrating enough too. But Hiro held his own. Very well in fact. He almost lost it when his shirt got peeled off by that horny young man though.

He dredged up that fear and waiting once more. He felt the same compulsion to keep the blood from running into his face, and that same something in his stomach. Apprehension, maybe? Fear? Hardly excitement. He laughed into the cacophonous night and looked up to the blank grey sky. There were no stars in the city.

No real stars. Nothing made by nature and something that no one understood. Only the fabricated fame of the big city. Only the glow of the limelight. Straining his ears, he listened for the song of the stars. He heard only the mask of sound that came from the writhing metropolis.

Dropping his gaze from the sky, he found himself at the train station that was at the other side of the park. He had his wallet with him. Perhaps he was supposed to take a ride. Yes. A little vacation sounded good.

He would go to Kyoto to spend some time with Ayaka. He smiled at the thought of the surprise on her face when he walked in. He didn't have a change of clothes with him, but that was all right. Clothes wouldn't matter. He mattered. She mattered. She could help him sort this all out.

He stepped up to the booth. It was closed. There was no person inside and there was a sign on the window. It had a large, blocky, black arrow on it pointing right. It pointed to a machine.

Hiro pitied the man that had lost his job to the sterile piece of technology. Nevertheless, that sterile piece of the future would help him get to Kyoto so he pressed the button for his destination, inserted his money, and waited while the thing whirred and clicked and printed out his ticket. Tearing it along the perforations he went to the bench to wait for the train.

It was fifteen minutes coming. Not that bad. It was fast too. He would be to Kyoto in three hours. Maybe, he yawed and stretched, maybe he would be able to sleep on the train. Maybe traveling towards the light of a better, clearer day would sooth his savage mind. He nodded in consent with himself and relaxed after the stretch. Hiro felt his eyelids dropping already.

He stood as the train pulled in. Yellow incandescence burst into his eyes as the train squealed and hissed to a stop. The doors clattered, hissed, and folded open decanting the yellow light forth from the cabin. A shadow darkened the door and stepped out, followed by three others, and then the doorman.

"Boarding all at Tokyo!" Nakano winced at the loud voice. He stepped up to the man. "Where to son?"

"Kyoto." He flashed his ticket. The man grabbed it, punched a hole in it and let him pass. Behind him, another potential passenger was assaulted with words, harsh and over said.

Hiro picked a seat in the middle of the empty car and sat with his forehead against the window. He looked at the dark, metal tracks through the reflection of the inside on the window. It formed an odd superimposition.

"Do I know you?" The voice was quiet and very curious. The sentence was repeated again before Hiro heard. "What? Know me. I highly doubt it. I don't come this way often," he lied blatantly as he had so many times before.

"Hm," said the man, "Are you sure. Haven't been on TV, or at the In Tune magazine company office before?"

"Nope, never. I'm just going back home to Kyoto. I was visiting relatives here and seeing the big city."

"Where's your baggage then?" the man asked taking a haughty tone. Feeling finished with the conversation Hiro tapped his temple. "It's all in here." He gave an obnoxiously polite smile and the man walked off muttering.

A few minutes later the train lurched to a start, but Hiro didn't feel it. He was fast asleep on his seat. Still the look of trouble played across his sleeping face and wandered aimlessly through his dreams.

"What then? I couldn't hear you!" He shouted over the strange roar and beat the pulsed in the foggy air around him. He could see Ayaka in the distance, she was crying and saying something. But the infernal pulsing was getting in the way of his hearing. "What! I can't hear you!" he yelled and tried to move forward but only found himself miraculously on his back. He struggled to roll over but something clung to him.

"Mmm, don't leave me Hiroshi." Tatsuha cuddled closer to Hiro. Shock and fear erupted and the scene color changed. Everything was shot through with red and purple. He tried to move away, but only his mind went. His body would not respond. Instead he watched his hand slip lazily through Tatsuha's dark hair.

He went over and beat his body. That wasn't right. That was gross.

No. Something rejected the feeling of disgust. Something in him accepted it and he set back into his body. He felt the silky hair running through his fingers and the soft warm cheek on his naked chest. He also felt content.

"Stop for Kyoto in five minutes!" called the doorman. Hiro jerked awake. The remnants of the dream flitted through him and he felt that contention and silk in his fingers. His conscious mind reeled at the mere thought. Something stopped it though. Just like in the dream. Something wanted desperately to keep that silken hair in his hands and that face on his chest. Something in him was wrong. Now he knew what.

"Five minutes. Get your tickets ready!" Hiroshi winced at the booming voice again. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he fished in his pockets for his ticket. His fingers brushed upon the smooth surface of the ticket. More pieces of the dream came to him. He could feel that cheek again.

His mind wandered carelessly. Were those cheeks really so soft? Was that hair really so silky? What was the rest of Tatsuha like? Hiro whacked his head. What was he thinking?!

Shaking his head as if to clear it he pulled out his ticket and felt the train slow. Slowly he was leaned forward in his seat by the stopping motion. When all was still, he rose. The other man was already walking forward, briefcase in hand. He glared at Hiro. Hiro smiled and waved a little wave.

His ticket was punched, and then he was off the train. The doors rattled closed behind him and all light was cut off. Only the stars, clear and simmering in the winter night, gave him light. Walking off the platform he cocked an ear to the sky.

Like a thousand distant, tiny wind chimes, the song of the real stars came to him. He didn't know if anyone else had heard it for the minute, but he had.

One day, he knew it; he would capture that song for his own. He would be able to make that music himself. Shuichi would make that music. Suguru would make that music. One day, they would write the song of the stars. They only needed inspiration.

One maybe it was just him. Suguru had inspiration in his cousin and becoming better than him. Shuichi had inspiration in his lover Eiri Yuki. So what did he have?

A breeze became tangled in his fingers. He felt an itch to create there. He felt dark silk there.

With a shiver he started off towards the temple. It was barely five minutes walk from the platform. "Hey," he heard the voice behind him, "Have a good night Hiroshi Nakano-sama." Smiling, a real smile this time, Hiro put his hands up in surrender to the man, then spun on his heel, inserted hands into pockets and made his way through the streets to the little temple in the little park, in the little city.

He listened again to the world. It was quieter than Tokyo. It was darker than Tokyo. Then again, he was in the outer reaches of the city. He sighed and looked at the stars and then the open gates of the park and temple.

Ancient cherry trees scrabbled their bare limbs to the sky. They seemed to want to catch the stars as well. Snow blanketed the lawn and shimmered lightly in the starlight haze. In the courtyard Hiro's steps echoed with a quiet tap, tap, tap. He smiled at the thought of who awaited him here. He saw the dark hair in his mind. He saw the narrow, black eyes, and thin lips of Tatsuha vividly.

He hit himself again and replaced the image of the boy with the image of the girl. He then blamed the mishap on the time and his groggy state. The time. The turquoise light flashed on his watched dial. It was one in the morning.

He wouldn't care. She! He hit himself again and pushed open the heavy wood door of the temple.

A candle flickered down by the alter. A figure was bowed there, praying. She had a beautiful silhouette. Removing his shoes and setting them aside, he began his quiet walk up to her. He could feel her shoulder, thin and small, under his palm now. He could feel her feminine hand is his now.

The cold of the stone floor seeped through his socks. Suppressing a shiver, he put out his hand. "Hey," he whispered, voice almost completely eaten up by the massive, dark chamber.

The figure twirled. The candle tipped and flickered out on the stone. He knew that this was the wrong person. Panic ceased him, as did a pair of strong hands. Someone taller than himself pulled him close.

His heart beat with reckless abandon in his chest. He could feel the warm breath closing in on his face as the hands gripped his arms steadily, restricting flight.

Warm lips brushed his. A sly tongue darted out. Hiroshi was melting. He couldn't move. He didn't want to. He was finding out what he had been so curious about. He was learning what was wrong and how to remedy it. He was learning love.

The pushing from his arms became a pulling. He wanted to be closer to Tatsuha. He wanted to know this man and everything about him. Physical, mental, spiritual. Everything. Nothing would be left unturned. He let his mouth explore this other man's mouth. He tasted the sweetness of Tatsuha's tongue on his own and felt the nips of teeth on his lips.

He let his hands climb. They ventured toward the dark silk hair. They anticipated the feel. They predicted the feel. Then, they knew the feel. Each strand soft and light and becoming ensnared in his hands. Hands that sought for cheeks. Sought to know the truth. Yes, cheeks that truly were smooth and silky. Hiro rubbed his thumbs over those cheeks.

It was then that sense kicked in once more. His body began to revolt, but it wasn't really his body, just his waking mind. His subconscious wanted more. His subconscious was in a dangerous position, threatening total take over at any time.

With his hands cupping that face Hiro pushed away. "No," he gasped. His lips were aching with the absence of the other lips. "No." He was firm this time and let go of the boy. He really was a boy. He was just sixteen. Hiro reminded him. "Tatsuha, you're only sixteen. You have plenty of others ahead of you. Not me. We can't. We should, and you know how I want to, but there are plenty of others and I'm sure that you can love one of them more-"

"You're rambling. Stop and think. No, no don't think."

"But I know that you can-"

"I can't love anyone else. Yes, you do know."

"Not, me. Please." There were the beginnings of sorrow in Hiro's voice.

"Why?"

"Because it's wrong! I don't love you! I don't. I don't think." He was losing it again. This was insane and he was going to wake up soon. He knew it. This was all just a horrible nightmare. He hadn't just kissed Tatsuha and he certainly wasn't in love with him. That was too random and unplanned.

"It isn't wrong. Two souls are calling to each other. Can't you see that dammit? Look at my brother and that kid. Is that so wrong? Is that so different?"

"Of course it's different. They are- they met- the circumstances-"

"See, your fumbling. You can't see why not."

"But it's forbidden!"

"Christ Hiro, be a rebel. I thought that was your attitude."

It had struck home. He was a rebel. He was a good person thought. But he could mold the world the way he wanted to. But it was wrong. His subconscious was screaming against his common sense. He could feel tears conflagrating behind his eyes. It was wrong. But only in the public's eye. He had never really cared what others had thought before. Why start now?

He choked on his tears and kissed the man he loved, then embraced him tightly.

It wasn't really an embrace. Hiroshi Nakano was clinging to that man with all his worth because he was falling off the edge of the world. He was changing.

Everything was changing for him. And the stars. The twinkling luminescent song descended on him. He was enraptured in a symphonic metamorphosis. He felt lips on his neck. He felt strong arms around his shivering body.

Then the ground fell out from under him. He gasped in fear. He really was losing it. It was all going away, falling out in front of him. Falling out around him. The tears burst forth. He was blind to the darkness. He was numb. There was nothing but sound.

Tatsuha could hear it coming from Hiro as he carried him off to his room. He could hear a sweet music. Like a thousand tiny wind chimes. He didn't know what it was, but he liked it. Maybe one day it would be a song. Shrugging he set down Hiro on the bed and covered him over. He seemed to be sleeping, but he was crying.

Completely on impulse he licked a tear from Hiro's cheek. It was salty and nothing special. With a sigh, he locked his door and climbed into the bed as well. He pulled his love close to him and kissed the top of his head.

"What about Ryuichi?" whispered Hiro.

"A crush. I can only assume I'm allowed to keep it." Hiro nodded face brushing the fabric of Tatsuha's loose T-shirt. "What about Ayaka?" Tatsuha asked.

"I feel sorry for her. She lost Yuki to the odd ways of fate, and now. Now me. No, Tatsuha, let me go. We can't do this!"

"Shh. Your talking nonsense. You're a rebel, remember?"

"Mmm, right. Rebel." He was savoring the caress of a hand down his back.

"What about the media?" Tatsuha asked.

"They're just going to have to deal with it. So what if the whole group's as queer as a three dollar bill."

"Suguru?" The younger man sounded shocked. Hiro chuckled. "Oh come on. Just look at him. Besides, he's in love with his cousin," Hiro yawned, "I found them kissing in the studio one night."

"And you say this is wrong."

"I take it back."

"I'm glad to hear you thinking positive."

Hiro tipped his head up another kiss. He was thinking positive. He had the star's song now. And he knew that he had it because of Tatsuha. If that wasn't a good omen, then he wouldn't know one from a stone.

"Three dollar bill. I just got that," Tatsuha mumbled sleepily.

"Idiot."

"But you love me?"

"Yes, I do."

Please alert me to grammar errors and I will fix them when I have enough collectively. I was too impatient to do more than battle with spell check. Thank you!

All types of reviews welcome. '