Disclaimer: I own no part of Gravitation. This fanfiction was written solely for entertainment purposes.
Warnings: Uh. Cursing.
Summary: (ONE SHOT)(Small bits of EiriShuichi.) Eiri doesn't think he can go back to old-fashioned pen-and-paper writing.
Dedication: For Julia-chan. Next time we talk about Gravi when we're supposed to be conjugating, let's… not… get caught by Sensei.
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Old- Fashioned Writing
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Eiri doesn't know how he does it.
Doesn't know how on earth Shuichi can sit down with a blank sheet of paper and a pen and just write. Doesn't know how he can look down and see the blank paper just waiting to be stained with ink and…
Eiri likes his laptop. He likes the blinking cursor. Likes the luminescence. Likes the little keys.
Knows that he probably can't go back to old-fashioned writing. Oh, sure, he writes notes for himself—little notes on characters or plot or ideas for the next novel. But he can't fill a page—even something the size of a receipt—with full sentences, full ideas, ready to be typed up and sent to his editor.
But Shuichi can.
He sits himself down—at a table, on the floor, in the living room, in the bedroom (once, AFTER SEX, which was something that half-freaked out Eiri because he knew what the song was going to be about and—wow…). Fuck, Eiri's even caught the brat trying to write his shitty lyrics while—yes—in the bathroom. Taking a dump.
Just sits down.
With a piece of paper.
And a pen.
And writes.
The lyrics are always messy—always scrawled out, with cross-outs, with doodles, with scribbles, with half of one song at the top and half of another song at the bottom. Reminders about stuff that Shuichi remembered, forgot, and remembered again cramp the margins.
Sometimes, Eiri will find an entire page crossed out, with the half-complete almost-final version on the back. Sometimes, Eiri will find three different versions of the same song on three scraps of paper dog-eared together. Sometimes, Eiri will only find details mashed together—a laundry list of adjectives and nouns and verbs—just words that sound pretty—and then it becomes a song. And the shit is always littered around the house.
Eiri has his laptop.
Shuichi, he knows, will never find scrawled notes or crossed-out memos or laundry lists of words and names that Eiri just likes. Because Eiri just writes his notes and puts them somewhere safe, and after he's finished with them, he throws them out. Because they're now safe and sound and doubly-backed-up on his laptop.
As Eiri sits alone at home one day and smokes, he figures out why that may be. Why Shuichi doesn't mind his messy papers and why Eiri likes his laptop.
It's because Shuichi—that idiot—doesn't mind making mistakes. He doesn't mind being messy or screwing up—sure, he'll cry about it and he'll whine for a while. But… he…
Shuichi is pretty damn fearless. What's a blank paper to him? Words flow from his pen—misshapen characters and shitty grammar and cliché phrases… He isn't afraid to use them, even if he knows that Eiri is going to bitch about his abuse of the Japanese language later on, when he finds it.
As a writer, Eiri can't help but see the metaphor in it all. He can't help seeing that Shuichi approaches writing the same way he approaches life.
Because Shuichi isn't afraid that he's screwing up his life by being with Eiri. He isn't scared to get up on a stage and do something utterly stupid and completely—fucked up, so that he looks even more idiotic than should be possible. He doesn't care if he's ruining his career as long as he's singing.
He isn't afraid to make mistakes.
And maybe Eiri is.
Maybe Eiri is afraid of making mistakes, and that's why a laptop is just… Because he can press those two keys: BACKSPACE and DELETE. And they'll cover it all up for him.
Eiri isn't as fearless as Shuichi is.
He likes having the sentences perfected before they get committed to paper. He needs to have the phrases correct before he sends it off to his editor. He hates mangling the Japanese language, and even the English language, which Shuichi tends to fuck up even worse than Japanese.
Eiri knows—but never wants to admit—that he is afraid of trusting and being wrong and having his trust shattered like a priceless glass put into Shuichi's fumbling fingers. Afraid of hurting someone that he loves—because does love Shuichi in his own twisted way—the same way that Kitizawa Yuki hurt him.
So Eiri keeps his notes and his words safe inside his head, where he can edit them until he can get to a laptop. Because in his head and on his laptop, mistakes don't matter.
And yet…
And yet life doesn't hit BACKSPACE, Eiri remembers, and this policy of trying not to make any mistakes at all is really shitty. Really—being fearless has worked out for Shuichi. So, okay, Eiri isn't going to try and become a total idiot like his boyfriend but—
Maybe it's time to go back to good old-fashioned paper-and-pen writing.
Besides, his laptop is in the shop this week.
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.notes.
…Whew. Written in 15 minutes at 1 AM, into my green spiral, after I despaired that my brother kicked me off his laptop. Ah…
Pretty implausible, but… Eh… I like it anyway.
Pretty-please review? Please?
--raspberry-苺