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
--
Weight
Sakuma Ryuichi was at his most happy. He was back from an acting job in America to sing with his favorite lookalike, Shuichi. Noriko wasn't being mean and hitting him for no reason other than him accidentally turning her hair red. So everything was going pretty good for him.
Except Shuichi was mopey. That was seriously putting a cramp in his "party all day and night with Shuichi" plan. He took a moment to wonder how an idea could get a cramp, but pushed it aside quite firmly to do with the matter at hand: cheering Shuichi up.
"Shuichi-kun," he whined. "Aren't you glad that I came back so I could be your guest star again?"
Shuichi smiled at him, but his violet eyes were tired. "Of course I am, Ryuichi," he assured. Ryuichi frowned at the sadness in his eyes and started to pout.
Shuichi took one look at his favorite idol's face and blanched. 'Oh no. I didn't mean to make Ryuichi unhappy. Moping sure isn't helping anyone! Gotta stay positive!'
"I'm so glad you're here! We can get matching Kumogaro costumes and trapse around that amusement park and go on rollercoasters until we puke!" he enthused.
Ryuichi grinned, but shot him a heavy look under considering eyes. Sure, Shuichi was faking, but if he faked long enough there was a good chance it would actually become real. "Cool!" the dark-haired singer said, grinning. "This is gonna be fun! Fun is always happening around Ryuichi, Shuichi, and Kumogaro!"
The two clasped hands to conspire and ducked into a corner to discuss their plans. Hiro, looking on, heaved a sigh. Suguru just covered his face with one hand. This trip was going to be murder on his nerves, he just knew it.
--
Tatsuha opened his brother's door a crack so that he could slip inside. His annual bi-weekly visit was coming up and he had decided that his brother, lacking anyone else at the moment, needed company. It was his job to make sure that Yuki didn't wallow, after all.
"What are you doing here?" Yuki snapped, glaring at him out of golden eyes. Tatsuha rolled his eyes as he set his back down and continued the rest of the way into the apartment.
"What do you think I'm doing here? I'm visiting my beloved older brother." He paused to walk over to the refrigerator. "Do you have anything other that beer? Not that I'm complaining, or anything."
While Yuki grumbled, Tatsuha looked around the apartment. There were clothes everywhere, ashes from a cigarette layering almost every surface. One of Shuichi's hats was perched jauntily on the top of a chair, and about two dozen beer bottles sat beside the couch. "Oh gods save us, it's World War III. What did you do?"
Yuki glared at him. Tatsuha ignored it and sprawled out in a chair, waiting for the answer.
"I have writers' block."
Tatsuha gaped. Yuki rarely ever got writers' block. Sometimes he just didn't feel like writing, but he never actually didn't know what to do next. If he hit a snag, he thought it through. If he wondered what somebody was going to do next, he had sex with someone until he was in a better frame of mind to work it out. But Yuki never, never got writers' block.
Tatsuha decided that the fish face was not a good look for him and shut his mouth. "Aw, do you miss Shuichi?" he babytalked, vaulting forward to pinch Yuki's cheek.
Yuki batted him off. "Die," he ordered coldly. Tatsuha, deciding this was his brother's way of saying that he loved him, brushed it aside.
"If I listened to you every time you said that, I would be fifty thousand feet under."
"And the world would be a better place," Yuki deadpanned.
Tatsuha sighed. "Just my luck, having an ass for a brother." He raked his black hair out of his eyes. "Well, did you try your usual remedies. Sex, beer, walking in the park, one of your screaming American bands on loud?"
The golden-haired novelist scowled and took another drag of his cigarette. "Shuichi's not here, yes, yes, and the neighbors complained last time."
"The fact that Shuichi's not here never bothered you much before," Tatsuha pointed out, grinning slightly. He got another of Yuki's dark looks for that comment.
"Shut up. I found that American single of Ryuichi's you wanted..." Yuki tempted.
Tatsuha drooled, holding out his hands. "Oh my darling Ryuichi. One day you will be mine. Until then, I shall subsist on images of you and plain rice, for I need no substance other than your glory. Ryuichi, you are my god. Every time I hold a funeral, I am really praying to you."
Yuki slapped the CD in his brother's hands and rolled his eyes. All those people that Tatsuha had sent off really were going to hell, then. Ryuichi wasn't exactly the epitome of good behavior on the best of days. The making out on stage with Tohma hadn't even been the worst of it. Sometimes, Yuki wondered why Mika had gone through with the marriage when her husband had spent most of his youth kissing other men.
He headed over to the computer to try again. He just couldn't think of what he wanted to do. Usually he managed to make a wonderfully heart-wrenching piece of art where the guy proved true to male nature and ruined the girl's life. Right now, all that he was coming up with something along the lines of "and then the two fucked like bunnies." That wasn't exactly "art."
Tatsuha's voice soon started singing out the lyrics to Ryuichi's song and Yuki plugged his ears, still staring at the screen. The words sat there, waiting. He sat there, waiting. Nothing was happening.
He swirled around in his chair and looked around the apartment. Plain, stylish, and tasteful underneath all of the junk. Usually there were about half a dozen things of Shuichi's scattered around, his equipment set up in the corner. Even if he didn't compose the music anymore, he still liked to play around.
The song faded out and Tatsuha came back into the room, leaning in the doorway. "You're not getting anything done anyway. Why don't you just go see him?" Yuki frowned at him and Tatsuha grinned. "Hey, just a suggestion." He headed back to the CD player and, soon enough, No Style was blaring out of the speakers.
Yuki decided firmly that it was time to kill Tatsuha. He would be doing the world a favor.
--
"Shuichi-kun!"
"Bad Luck, Bad Luck, Bad Luck!"
Screaming fans always made Shuichi feel so welcome. It was a wonderful thing, screaming fans. On stage, at least. Offstage they had the tendency to mow him over in their desperation to get to him. More than once he'd had a fan's bootprint on his forehead. Then there had been that time with the high heels...
Hiro held one of the turned-off microphones up to Shuichi and said announcer-like, "You have performed wonderfully and the fans only want more. How do you feel?"
Shuichi grabbed it playfully. "I'd have to say that I feel like a million bucks," he stated cheerfully. "I'm here with my favorite guitarist, the boy-band cute keyboardist, my panicking producer, and my gun-toting manager. Life couldn't be better. How about you, Hiro? How's it feel to have your face associated with one as gorgeous as mine?"
Hiroshi rolled his eyes and knocked the microphone back into the case. "Keep dreaming, brat," he informed his friend.
Shuichi just grinned.
It was... odd, though. To be away from Yuki for more than a few days. He was surprised that he hadn't had a heart attack yet from all the worrying. What would Yuki do if he wasn't around to catch him when he passed out? He had this habit of breaking marble tables with his hard head-- the last time had resulted in a concussion and Tohma screaming at Shuichi. It hadn't been pretty.
Then had been Mika, screaming at Shuichi. Then had been Tatsuha, screaming at Shuichi. And then...
It just hadn't been pretty. Nothing more should be said.
Shuichi smiled slightly at the memory, amused by it now though he had been frightened at the time. 'Yuki...' He was quiet the rest of the way back to the hotel, not noticing Hiro's fond smile at him as he shook his head. Shuichi was one-of-a-kind and Yuki didn't deserve him.
And if this separation wasn't killing Yuki as totally as it was killing Shuichi, Hiro and him were going to have words.
--
I want to take a moment to discuss the chapter titles. Inertia is a state of motionlessness. With Gravity, I'm thinking along the lines of each object having their own inner gravity and pulling to each other. Like the apple pulls to the earth as the earth pulls to the apple. Or in this case, Shuichi and Yuki. Weight sort of... determines how fast the apple (or Yuki) falls. And next chapter's name (Brought Together) is sort of self-explanatory.
Thank Ryuuko (Ryuichiincarnate) for the speediness of this chapter because Ryuuko is sadly going to be trapped in Alaska for two months and computerless. And feel free to review. I would, in fact, appreciate it.