Bring it down to the words of inertia
Gravity and touch give you meaning
Feel the weight of the moment
As you're brought together by the sun
Inertia
--
Gravity
Shuichi could feel Yuki's breath against the back of his neck, warm and even, caressing his skin like a soft touch. It wasn't that often that Yuki slept in the same bed as him. Shuichi supposed it denoted some kind of trust that Yuki wasn't willing to give him.
It hurt to be trusted so little, but at least it wasn't too often that Yuki actually kicked him out. Just once or twice a week. Yuki always seemed to be running late on some deadline or other, generally resulting in him staying up all or most of the night clacking away at his keyboard. So staying in bed really wasn't even that much of an issue.
It was nice, though. Nice to be held in Yuki's arms like he was fragile instead of some kind of ball that just kept bouncing back. He would never stop bouncing back from whatever Yuki put him through-- he wasn't sure if he could. That didn't mean that he didn't feel the pain associated with it, though. Maybe he was just annoying Yuki by being with him, but sometimes it really seemed like Yuki wanted him here.
Shuichi leaned back in his lover's arms and closed his eyes against his worry. He couldn't keep wondering like this. It would kill him, and too often he was wrong to begin with.
Yuki had actually bothered to interrupt him on the phone with Maiko for sex. Did that mean something, or was it just Yuki being horny? Yuki wasn't the kind to actively seek something like that, since it usually tended to sidle up to him and say "pretty please."
He was warm, safe, and he had Yuki. It was time to stop doubting and go to bed.
Eventually, his own breathing turned even and he slid into sleep. He was going to have an eventful day tomorrow.
--
Shuichi was packing. As a rule, he disliked packing. It generally meant that Yuki had tried to leave again and that Shuichi had to chase after him. The hopping up and down on an overstuffed suitcase was kind of fun, but he could go without.
This time, he wasn't packing to go after Yuki. Tomorrow he'd be heading out for the tour. "Yeah!" he shouted into the empty room, bouncing on top of the suitcase. "Fame! Glory! Death To Smoochy!" He paused at the last one. "I knew I shouldn't have watched Yuki's stupid American movies." Then he laughed and continued to squeeze the suitcase closed.
Even more people would be avid Bad Luck fans after this tour. Many people noted how it was impossible to hear the band and not like them, and some people would probably go to the concerts just for something to do. CD sales would go through the roof.
Shuichi's smile was manic as he pulled his stuff off the bed to rest against the floor. This was the greatest opportunity he'd had so far to spread his love of music to everyone else. He'd make Bad Luck fans if he had to buy his CD himself and give it to 'em for free.
"Will you stop that cackling?" Yuki said irritably, leaning against the doorframe with a scowl set on his impressive face. His white shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a good deal of pale golden flesh.
Shuichi's mouth went dry with desire. 'Why does he have to go around nearly shirtless!' he thought frantically, full-well knowing his eyes were tracing a rampant path across Yuki's chest. Yuki's eyes were on him all too knowingly, making him want to jump on him and scream "MINE!" at the top of his lungs.
He swallowed hard and forced his eyes away from Yuki's tempting body. Yuki had a deadline. He always had a deadline. Maybe he really wasn't always that busy. Maybe it was just another obstacle between them, but Shuichi knew the consequences if he bothered Yuki too much while he had a deadline. Yuki probably wouldn't even be able to see him off.
Shuichi was so distracted by fiddling with the zipper of one of his bags that he didn't notice Yuki crossing the room closer to him. The novelist jerked his chin up and Shuichi squeaked. He didn't have time to think as Yuki's mouth covered his, hot and almost bruising in force, burning into him like the desire filled his body and he clung to his lover.
Nothing. Nothing else mattered. Even if this was all he had, it would have to be enough. Because he couldn't live without this, as small a thing as it was.
Shuichi's back hit the bed and he gasped as he felt the soft brush of Yuki's lips against his throat, like a warning before he bit down lightly to mark the skin.
Maybe Yuki couldn't offer anything but this anymore. Maybe there was nothing left but this, whatever it was, between the two of them. Maybe there was nothing left but sex and affection and wanting. Shuichi would take whatever it was that Yuki had to offer because it was Yuki's and he wanted everything, whatever it was that Yuki would give him.
He felt his shirt be pulled off over his head, Yuki's mouth on his once more as soon as it was off. It was like he was trying to imprint himself on Shuichi, as deep as he could go. His tongue thrust into Shuichi's as far as it was possible as if to stake a claim into an area that had been practically untouched since Yuki.
It was different right now, somehow. He didn't know what was different, but it was. Yuki hadn't waited for Shuichi to make the first move, to touch him in some way or indicate how what he wanted. He almost always, if not always, did that. He waited and most of the time Shuichi appreciated it, especially after Taki and his goons.
He let himself fade into the oblivion of touch and heat. There was only one thing he wanted more, but this was all he had.
--
"I wanna goooo," Shuichi whined at his bandmates as he waited. "Why does the plane have to be late. I even got here early? This isn't fair!"
"Not everything is fair, Shuichi," Suguru admonished. "Can't you just be a little more patient? This is our big chance, though there's no doubt that you'll screw it up somehow, considering that you have the strangest tendency to do that."
Shuichi effortlessly tuned out Suguru's sarcastic voice and decided to pay attention to the many people around him. A mother was trying to get her squirming son to sit in his seat, wiping at the smudge of dirt on his cheek. A girl clung to who looked to be her boyfriend, arms fastened around his neck as she buried her face against his shoulder. A harried American woman was trying to keep her two blonde little girls in line while her husband paid more attention to the TV showing sports.
"Shuichi, we can board now," Hiroshi said for what had to be the fifteenth time, rapping his knuckles gently against Shuichi's skull. "You in there? Maybe you can't sit. Did Yuki screw you too hard?"
Shuichi turned bright red. "Hiro!" he screeched, elbowing the guitarist as hard as he could. "You'd think that you'd prefer not to know!"
"I guess that means yes."
"Hiro!"
K sighed as he watched his band fight on their way to board the plane. He, of course, would be seeing if he could fly on the top so he could check for potential snipers. Sakano would be inside, but knocked out, as he was a nervous flyer. Very nervous. K had spotted him hyperventilating in the corner just thinking about him, but no one thought twice about it since it was him. The man really needed some good pills, though upon him suggesting it, Sakano had started babbling about rude Americans.
Shuichi was getting quieter. K was paid to notice the little things about his band. Shuichi may not be silent right now, busy trying to bash his friend's head in and attracting the attention of the more normal Japanese men and women, but seemed quieter all around. That meant that he was depressed. That meant K was probably going to have to go shoot at Yuki.
A lazy smile curled on his lips. "Mm... moving target..."
"Did you say something?" Sakano said, wiping his brow with an already sweat-soaked handkerchief. He soon got out his waterbottle so he could pop a couple of pills.
K smirked. "Oh, nothing. Nothing..."
He was resisting the urge to start cackling in what he hoped was an entirely Japanese way. This country was so insane. They were lucky to have him around to loosen them up and shoot a few holes in their houses. And them, of course. Couldn't be American without a bloodbath.
--
Yuki stared at the door with a cigarette in one hand and a shot glass in the other. It was probably pointless to be looking. It was the same door it had been before-- wooden, large, and with a big brass handle-- but the difference that remained now was that Shuichi had gone through it and he was going to be gone for a while.
'The brat probably won't even come back,' he thought with a scowl, grinding his cigarette out aggressively. 'Why would he want to?'
He wasn't stupid enough to think that something as ill-defined as love existed. He could write about it because it was like a fairy tale-- easy, stupid, and ultimately unreal. Like that Chinese artist or whatever had said, demons were easier to draw than dogs. It was easier to write about something like love because it didn't really exist. That was why the American romance novels were so stupid and trashy. Anyone could write them.
Shuichi seemed to think that he loved Yuki, though. He was stupidly devoted, he kept coming back like a dog to its master no matter what. Was love just sheer stupidity?
Yuki snorted and finished off his shot. If love was stupidity than Shuichi no doubt embodied love. Or was it the love that made him stupid?
He staggered back over to his desk and slammed the glass down. At least now he could smoke without worry. K had pointed a gun at his head and started shooting when he had learned that Yuki smoked around his precious singer. There had been talk of secondhand smoke and singing lungs and so on, but Yuki didn't pay much attention to words when bullets were flying overhead. Not many did. Once Shuichi had realized what was happening (and it had taken quite a while despite the bullets) he had started off on K despite the machine gun.
Yuki felt a smile begin to curve on his lips at the memory. Shuichi had clung to him the entire time, saying that he would use his body as a shield so that not one single hair on "his precious Yuki's" head would be harmed.
Yuki's chest ached and he rubbed it with a frown. He didn't miss the brat. He didn't.
--
Hey all! Thanks for all of the pretty reviews; I loved each and every one and am not ashamed of begging you for more. Do people think I should up the rating? By the way, does anyone know where I could post artwork? I do Gravi, Gundam Wing, and Weiß Kreuz, mostly. I also do original stuff.
Once again, the song Inertia belongs to me. Please review!