20 – All the King's Horses
Warnings: OOC and SMUT
"Oh good, you're back," K said from the main suite area. A familiar grunt came in reply.
Shuichi opened his eyes but did not move, remaining lying on his left side in bed. His door was open, he could hear what was going on. That would be… Eiri. K had told him the writer went to bring Hiro to the airport. It was rather nice of the bad-tempered writer, who had been and continued to be such a big help all the time.
Despite the aching need to take advantage of the writer's goodness, to call out to Eiri and ask the man to stay there with him and be by his side, Shuichi held back. Things were supposed to be… casual between them. He knew he ought to tie his emotions down, not let them run away with him when Eiri was near. It wouldn't be the disaster he had originally thought it might, what with Eiri insisting he would take only what he could get. But so much was already out of hand as things stood. He sighed and curled up closer on himself, closing his eyes once more.
"Oi," said a voice from behind him.
Shuichi's eyes snapped open and he stiffened.
"Oh good, you're awake."
There was movement, and Shuichi felt the space of the bed behind him dip with the writer's weight. He refused to turn over. All he would do was curl around Eiri anyway and that would be such a show of weakness. Better to stay facing away so as not to be tempted…
"Here," said K's voice from the doorway. There seemed to be an exchange of something, and Shu told his curiosity to Shut Up.
"Thanks," Eiri replied, sounding strangely… sincere. Shuichi still refused to move. Even when he heard the door close, and sensed that he was alone with Eiri. "I'm going to have a quick shower. See you in a bit."
When the bathroom door closed, he slowly peeked over his shoulder, wondering what the two had been talking about. He stared at the creases on the other side of the bed, the evidence of how close the writer had been; they were behind his back to his right… on Eiri's side. When they had slept together in the writer's apartment, his side was to Eiri's left, as it would be if the writer were to get into this… bed… Argh!
Squeezing his eyes shut, Shuichi turned back over and covered his ears with his hands. He didn't want to listen to the spray of the shower, knowing how Eiri stood beneath the water completely… naked.
With a groan, Shuichi snatched his second pillow up from between his knees and pushed it over his right ear, sandwiching his head between pillows. Successfully muting out the sounds of the shower, the singer focused on thinking about other things than the very undressed novelist in his bathroom… and how much he should not want to go… join him.
Growling, Shuichi snatched both pillows into his hands, pressing them against his ears. He rolled over onto his stomach and burrowed beneath his covers, counting silently to ten. After that, he counted to twenty. He reached one hundred and sixty-seven when the bed dipped again.
"Hey."
Shuichi gave up. He rolled over and sat up, glowering.
"What's with that expression? Not like I've done anything to deserve it."
Freshly washed and with a towel about his shoulders, shirtless and his hair damp, Eiri calmly sat by Shu's hip. Oh boy, the singer thought, does he look delicious. With a soft gulp, Shu sat up a bit, pushing his two pillows behind his back and leaning into them. Scooting back was about as much as he could do, the headboard as far as he could go, all things considered.
"You're off to Yamanashi tonight so you need the day's rest but K and Suguru are attending to the set-down," the writer explained, "I haven't had any sleep tonight, so I'll be hanging around here."
Eh? Shuichi's brows crossed.
"Yeah," Eiri smirked, though his eyes were warm. "I got stuck with brat-sitting duty."
Hmph. Shuichi turned his back and curled up again. When he felt the pull of the blanket and a further dip, however, he snapped right back over. "What are you doing?"
"Getting into bed," Eiri reasoned, eyes already shut. He crossed his ankles and tucked both hands under his head, pulling his stomach and chest taut… and in full view of Shuichi's wide eyed gaze. Only grey track suit trousers hid the rest of him from view. The singer gulped. "Is there a problem?" Eiri cracked open one eye and smiled a little, "You seem to be enjoying the view, too."
"I—" the singer decided against the lie, seeing as how he could already feel his cheeks burning.
"You…?" Eiri prodded softly, looking a little amused.
Irked and frustrated, Shuichi snapped sharply, "Get dressed, will you?"
The ghost of a smile fell off Eiri's face and he stared thoughtfully at the irate singer. Without another word, he got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.
Shuichi hooked up a knee and rested his left elbow on it… and slumped his forehead into his palm. This was not good. With a sigh, he let it go. Now was not the time to be stressing out. He was fine, really. So what if everything wasn't how he wanted it to be? He was angry, he knew that much, but at the same time he knew what he had to do. He had a goal, something to hold on to, and no matter what… the lot of them would not detract him.
With a sigh, Shu flung himself backward, throwing both arms up and stretching his legs out. That's right. Nothing would stand in his way anymore. This would all be over soon. He just needed to ride with it to the end, whatever happened. Eiri had handed control over to him anyway--
"You look awfully determined," said a smooth baritone voice from the singer's right. He looked over. Eiri wore a grey pullover to match the grey track trousers he had donned after his shower. "I only wish I knew why."
"Don't worry your pretty head," Shu murmured dismissively.
Eiri looked surprised, he padded closer to the bed and twisted his right leg under himself as he sat down, still keeping eye contact. After a moment, tilting forward, the writer lay on his stomach, propped up by his elbows. Lying next to the quiet singer, Eiri appeared worried and tense.
"Aren't you going to sleep?" Shu asked.
Eiri replied softly, "Not unless I can be sure you'll be alright."
"Sleep," Shuichi sighed. His voice lowered to whisper. "I'm tired too; we both need to get some rest. And it'll be nice to wake up here together."
"Why do say such things?" Eiri asked just as softly, letting himself fall forward on his stomach, face burying into his pillow. His voice was a little muffled when he observed, "You're always spouting off things you know other people want to hear… but is no where near what you really think or feel."
Shuichi lilted his face up to look at the ceiling, feeling solemn but not sad. He said, "Better this way, don't you think?"
"Not for those who can see the truth," the writer sighed, turning his head over to look at Shuichi. "While not a lot of people are looking enough to see it, there are those who do. When they see, when I see, it is not better at all."
"Don't look, then," Shuichi muttered, throwing an arm up over his eyes. The bed shifted and he felt Eiri press against his side, he sensed the man's presence leaning over him. From but a few centimetres above his face, he felt as well as heard Eiri speak.
"I could never not see you, Shu," he whispered, "Not anymore. Let me closer, won't you?"
"You're already closer than I ever wanted," the singer whispered. He sees me? Shuichi wondered. The nearness was driving him a little mad, he could smell the writer's scent. Yearning flooded his senses and he felt the familiar sting behind his eyes. Not wanting to let Eiri see him cry, Shu kept his eyes covered. But he leaned upward and parted his lips when he sensed Eiri shift, leaned up to accept the kiss… and his mind emptied at the touch.
Preferring the crash of sensations over the turmoil in his heart and mind, he focused all his senses on the feel of the writer's mouth on his own. Sliding his right arm away from his eyes, he turned his hand over and covered Eiri's eyes instead, pushing up with his other elbow to press closer.
Eiri shifted, half covering the singer's body with his own, his right elbow reaching over to press into the mattress of Shu's left. Still pushing up with his left elbow, Shu reached with his hand to curl it around Eiri's shoulder. Accepting Shu's right hand over his eyes, Eiri slid his left hand under the singer's mid back. Pressing closer, he slipped his right leg between Shu's and pressed his thigh against the singer's groin. Liquid fire raced up the singer's body at this and Shuichi gasped into Eiri's mouth, breaking the kiss.
Arching with a gasp, Shuichi pressed into Eiri's thigh again. Heat permeated all his senses, he felt dizzy yet certain at the same time. He ignored the feel of his tears sliding down his cheeks, ignored how they slipped under each ear and into his hair. But he remained mindful of these tears, despite wanting to keep his hand over Eiri's eyes he instead reached over, reached past and around the writer's shoulder. Pushing his face into Eiri's neck he closed his right arm around the writer in a tight grip.
Body trembling from the onslaught of sensations, he whispered hoarsely, "Eiri…"
The whisper arced into a soft moan at the feel of the writer's mouth on his throat. Gently, Eiri's teeth and tongue nipped along his throat to his jaw, lips sliding slowly up the nip at Shuichi's ear. The writer's arms tightened about Shuichi, who gasped and arched again, moaning when the motion pushed his groin into Eiri's thigh once more. Feeling this, Eiri pressed into him again. Helplessly, Shu moaned and pushed back.
Shifting, the writer's right arm closed on Shu's shoulder and pushed him back down onto the mattress completely. Squeezing his eyes shut, the singer lay back, turning his face away so Eiri would not need to face his tears. He knew the writer could tell he was crying, but thankfully, Eiri didn't ask after them, didn't push him. For that, Shu was grateful.
Slowly, hands gently tracing patterns across his skin, Eiri kissed his way down to Shuichi's chest. There, he pressed a multitude of fleeting kisses, each but a whisper of breath before closing his lips on one nipple and worrying it with his tongue.
"Oh!" Shuichi arched into the touch, left hand rising to tangle in Eiri's hair, the other gripping one of the writer's smooth shoulders.
Each lave of Eiri's tongue, each whisper of touch and every breath blown over his skin built languid heavy heat under his flesh. The collection of sensations seemed to slide down and pool in Shuichi's abdomen. Bit by bit the pressure increased until the heaviness turned into an ache, his erection straining against the softness of his pyjamas. One of the writer's hands danced its way down to his hip, the thumb reaching across to nudge at his hardness. Shuichi gasped again, tossing his head.
Eiri kissed his way to the other nipple and lavished the same treatment upon it as he had its twin. Releasing his hold on Eiri's hair, Shu slid his hand down the writer's chest, his own fingertips seeking out the writer's nipple to mimic the action of Eiri's tongue.
When Eiri licked his way up to Shuichi's mouth and drew him into a kiss, Shu took the opportunity. He slid his fingertips teasingly down over every bump and into every dip of Eiri's chest and stomach, reached down to close his hands around the writer's hardness. Shu was rewarded by a soft moan, Eiri breathing the sound into the singer's mouth, making him even more aroused than before. Eiri stiffened and pulled away suddenly,
"Shuichi," the writer murmured, his voice deeper in a way Shu only ever heard in bed. "I have to stop. I can't…"
Shuichi smiled up at Eiri, though he could feel his heart cracking just a little more. Seeing the worry in his lover's golden eyes, he shook the smile away. He knew it was too pitiful, and instead begged with his watery eyes.
"Eiri," Shu whispered, "Make love to me?" The writer's eyes widened. "I don't want sex, I don't want pity… make love to me."
A kind of reverence shone in the writer's golden eyes. And in answer, Eiri dipped his head and caught Shuichi up into another soul-shattering kiss.
Shuichi instantly regretted making Eiri cover himself up, the pullover was now only a hindrance. He pulled it up with one hand, guiding the fabric as Eiri rocked over from one side to the other letting the singer remove the garment one arm at a time. He lifted his own arms when Eiri sat up and pulled his pyjama top off of him, settling back only to lift his hips when the writer scooted backward off the bed to remove his bottoms. Half kneeling on the foot of the bed, Eiri looked down at him and Shuichi shivered under the heated golden gaze.
Not at all embarrassed, he opened his legs, parted his arms and with his whole body called for Eiri to come back to him. Come back to me… he thought, Take me back into your arms.
He cried a little harder but he maintained his pose, looking up into Eiri's eyes… filled with love, wonder and awe. There was a touch of possessiveness that warmed Shuichi, as though, in some ways, Eiri never meant to let him go. He wondered if he should be frightened of it, but instead he welcomed it.
"You're amazing, Shuichi," Eiri whispered, a hunger in his eyes as he looked the singer over. "And so beautiful…"
Shuichi blushed, his hands clenching into the sheets. With a chuckle, Eiri moved toward the windows and closed the heavy layers of curtains, throwing the room into semi-darkness. Coming back to the foot of the bed, the writer bent to his hands and knees, crawling up the bed on all fours. He leaned over, covering Shuichi's body with his own, settling into the arms the singer raised up to welcome him.
"Shu," Eiri whispered, and he bent his head.
Shuichi surrendered. This was what he had wanted for so long… Eiri has come back to me, he thought. When the writer pulled away a moment, Shuichi framed that handsome face with both his hands. He met Eiri's intense gaze, lungs full with Eiri's scent, body aching for more of the man's touch and his heart clenched. Don't leave me again, he begged in his mind, never leave me.
"I won't, Shu," Eiri said softly, head bending to press a tender kiss to Shuichi's forehead. "I promise I won't leave you."
What little defences Shuichi had left broke at the realisation he had begged aloud… and that Eiri had made such a promise.
He gasped when the writer began to explore with his hands, welcomed Eiri's touch down his chest, over his belly and between his legs. Arching into the touch, his own hands roamed over the writer's smooth shoulders, down the strong back. Opening his mouth, he sucked on Eiri's fingers, parted his legs and welcomed his lover's weight between them.
Lover.
Shifting, he parted his legs further when Eiri moved to withdraw the hand from his mouth. He took advantage of Eiri's distraction to lick at an ear that came within reach, gasping when the writer's slicked fingers swirled over his opening.
Join with me, Shu thought. Come into me, inside me, and make me yours…
"Please!" Shuichi cried out softly when one digit pressed deeply into him, immediately smoothing over the most sensitive spot inside him, making his hips buck.
Carefully, and Shuichi could feel it, Eiri thrust his finger back and forth. Shu slanted his head, receiving the mad kiss Eiri pressed onto his mouth as the single finger slid out and two pressed in. Fingers scissoring, Eiri kissed his way down to the singer's chest, he spared each nipple the scantest attention before continuing down to the small quivering belly and dipping his tongue into a very sensitive navel. Shuichi arched into the attention, hands grabbing at the sheets and resisting the urge to grab at Eiri's hair and risk hurting him.
"Hold on, Shu…"
Finally, realisation penetrated Shuichi's desire-heavy mind and his eyes snapped open. Looking down, he met Eiri's eyes as the writer gripped his hardness in one hand… and closed his lips over the head.
"Eiri!" Shu screamed the name, pleasure crashing through him. The wet heat drove him nearly mad, eyes rolling into his head. Eiri had so rarely ever pleasured him like this that his body responded strongly and without hesitation. "Why..?"
Taking advantage of the singer's silence as he adjusted to having three fingers inside him, Eiri said softly, "I want to give this to you." Shuichi arched and cried out when the writer's fingers brushed over his prostate again. "I want you to think of nothing but me and this."
"Always," Shuichi managed to gasp out, "I've always thought of you; never stopped." Shuichi released the sheets to cover his face with his hands, crying, "Wanted you… to come back."
Waited for you to take me back, to come back to me and only me…
"I thought you left me," Eiri admitted, leaning up and gently pressing Shuichi into the mattress with his weight. He braced his upper body up with one elbow, his hand pulling away Shuichi's hands so he could see the singer's face. He brushed back the sweat-drenched bangs on Shu's face, the other hand still thrusting deeply into the singer.
"Went away," Shu cried, his shoulders shaking. He looked up into Eiri's face, reaching to frame the writer's face with his hands again and they stared deeply, awestruck, into each other's eyes. "Because I thought you didn't want me anymore."
Shaking his head, Eiri shifted. When he resettled, Shuichi could feel Eiri's hardness poised at his entrance. He wrapped his arms around the novelist's neck and lifted his legs to hook them together at the writer's lower back. As Eiri pressed forward, Shuichi gasped but maintained eye contact.
"No, Shu," the writer whispered, bringing both arms up to brace his weight on his elbows. Straight into the singer's eyes, he admitted, "I thought you didn't want me anymore. I'm a fool, I did the stupidest thing and you left me. I couldn't blame you."
Feeling Eiri sinking into him nearly made Shuichi come apart. Overcome with emotion he cried, so softly he wasn't sure he was heard, "I love you, Eiri…"
He cried out when Eiri was completely inside him, feeling the heavy weight of the writer on top of him. Don't leave me again…
"Never, Shuichi," Eiri pressed soft kisses along the singer's forehead and hairline, a gently hand cupping his cheek, thumb brushing the tears away. "I promised, didn't I? I'll never leave you… I… I love--"
Closing his arms around Eiri, heart swelling so much Shuichi thought it would burst, he tried to pull the writer closer. It didn't matter he had interrupted. He arched, and Eiri began to move… then he ceased to think at all.
Slowly, Eiri rocked against him, gently moving against his prostate within and Shuichi gasped at each thrust. His mind was coming undone, head tossing, his hands scrabbled to grip the writer tighter. Hot and demanding, the powerful sensations ripped through him. Restlessly, he squirmed and Eiri's forehead dropped into his neck with a gasp.
"Don't," Eiri warned.
But Shuichi wasn't listening. All he could hear was how the writer had almost told him… I love you. It was making him insane. He twisted again and Eiri growled. Pulling back, Eiri suddenly rammed harshly in.
Shuichi heard a keening wail, registered distantly how it sounded awfully like his voice. But he couldn't concern himself, not when Eiri began a deep and strong rhythm. He wrapped both arms and both legs tightly around his lover, moving his body in response. He had only just enough presence of mind to realise Eiri was holding him just as tightly, one hand wrapped around his hip to help hold him down.
Thrusting back, Shuichi wept, overcome with both sensation and emotion. The pressure in his abdomen was building to unimaginable proportions, the tension like a spring wound too tight. The stress of it seemed to create a multitude of fireworks in his loins, the pressure increasing until he could almost no longer bear it… but one of Eiri's thrusts sent a bolt of white hot lightning through him and the tension broke. Shouting his lover's name, Shuichi arched as he climaxed feeling, as he rode the sensations, when Eiri joined him in completion.
Collapsing, Shu kept his arms wrapped around his lover, letting Eiri rest on top of him. When the writer pulled away, pulled out, he let himself be rolled to his side when his lover also refused to let him go. He sighed, pressing his face into Eiri's chest.
Listening to his lover's heart rate slow down, Shuichi felt… a quiet sort of contentment. But then his earlier love-driven words returned to him and he almost grimaced. He shouldn't have said those things, he realised. It would only make Eiri break his promise, and he had no right to make Eiri do such a thing when he'd said… he'd said…
Shuichi's eyes popped open.
"You're thinking again," Eiri scolded sleepily. "You're all tense suddenly."
"You said…" Shuichi wasn't even certain if he should voice it or laugh it off. His ears were probably broken. "I thought you almost said—"
"That I love you." Eiri whispered the words into his hair, arms tightening.
Bewildered, Shuichi only pressed closer. The entire situation had a certain dreamlike quality to it.
"I also said I will never leave you."
Fear raced down Shuichi's spine. But in the next instant, he took hold of those precious words and almost wept with happiness. His earlier worries seeming like but a memory, he realised how sleep pulled at him with strong arms. He wanted to give in and from the sound of Eiri's slurred speech, he too was in for a deep sleep.
Past the sleepiness, heartache and tears Shu managed to ask, "Never?"
"Never."
And this time, Shuichi surrendered to the darkness willingly.
-
-
-
Three days later, Shuichi walked into Bad Luck's Kyoto hotel suite. Uesugi Tatsuha dropped his smile and suddenly frowned darkly before commenting, "You look like hell."
Hiro, Suguru and K all looked rather annoyed with him by this comment, but Tatsuha ignored them. Shuichi rolled his eyes as he approached the group and sarcastically fired back, "Gee, thanks, Tatsuha. I sure needed to hear it like that, I feel so much better."
The monk smirked, looking even more startlingly like his older brother. He mock saluted when he said, "Glad to be of service. How was the visit with your folks?"
"Just fine, thanks for asking." Over-riding the young monk, who had just opened his mouth, Shuichi stabbed a finger into the air and continued, "I had nothing but my mother's home cooking, my sisters' baking, my sister's classmates' squealing, and NO, I did not engage in any hot sex." Tatsuha grinned and opened his mouth one more time but Shuichi still beat him to it with, "And NO, I did not get propositioned for hot sex, either!"
The singer gave each of his band mates a hug. Hiro murmured, "Welcome back, Shu."
Watching him, thoroughly amused, the young monk sing-songed, "Shuichi—"
"No, thank you, Tatsuha."
The young monk grinned even wider, "But you don't even know what I was about to say!"
"On the contrary," Shuichi muttered, "I happen to know YOU were about to proposition me for hot sex. And the answer is still 'no'."
Hiro and Suguru were snickering madly by this point, and K was looking quite relaxed despite the ominous-looking rifle in his right hand which he had hoisted over his right shoulder.
Shuichi smiled at them all then asked, "Where's Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde?"
"Eh?" Tatsuha quirked a brow, curiosity apparent.
"With the set-up crew," Suguru replied, moving away toward his own room. "We're meeting them for lunch then all heading back to the hall. I'm going to get changed now that you're here--" He stopped, eyes fixing on Shuichi's hand and suddenly demanded, "Where are mine?"
"Thanks!" Hiro said happily, receiving a prettily-tied package from the little singer. The guitarist knew the parcel contained some of Maiko's speciality of miniature chocolate chip cookies.
Shuichi dutifully handed a second package over to the anticipative synth-master. K and Tatsuha both smiled before holding out their hands as well. Shu, however, instead stuck his tongue out at them and stated emphatically, "No."
"You still haven't told me who Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde are," moaned Tatsuha, curling up on one of the suite couches, frowning at the gleeful Suguru who disappeared to change.
Shoving his bag under the coffee table with his foot, Shuichi tossed his cotton hood jacket onto another of the couches before sending himself over it in a sprawl. He said, slurring his words a little, "Katsuya and Eiri."
"Ohh…" the monk smiled at this. He uselessly offered, "I know who Mr Hyde is!"
Hiro, seated on the arm rest near Shuichi, reached over and ruffled the singer's hair before saying, "Didn't get much sleep?"
"Tamaki, Miaka and Haruhi." Shuichi muttered, eyes closed.
Hiro asked, "Who are they?"
"Three of Maiko's friends and banes of my existence, I'll have you know. They weren't so bad before. They'd visited us in Tokyo, the night we were finalising the CD insert layouts--"
"Ah, yes," K said snidely, "The night you bailed out and went clubbing."
Shuichi cracked open one eye and glared, "You guys didn't need me there, remember? I'm the idiot with the weird tastes in colours and layouts."
Hiro shrugged and K turned away, shaking his head. For a few moments, the guitarist watched the gunman leave to make preparations for their departure then prodded, "So, you were saying?"
"The three terrors," the tired singer clarified. "Maiko was too lovey-dovey to save me most of the time, it was a real hassle." Shuichi sighed, relaxing. "And she was the one who had brought them over in the first place! The least she could've done was take care of her own friends!"
"Lovey—" Hiro's brows crossed, "Maiko's got a boyfriend?!"
Shuichi mumbled absently, "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you about that…"
"She's practically my little sister, too, you know!" Hiro scolded, "You're not supposed to oops, not tell me!"
"Sorry Hiro..." Shuichi sing-songed dutifully, while Tatsuha giggled a little at the expression on the guitarist's face.
Suguru came marching out of his room and immediately frowned at Shuichi. "Aren't you going to change or something?"
"It's just lunch, Suguru." Shuichi rolled over on to his side without opening his eyes and continued his little power nap.
"We'll be out in public!" the synth-master hissed, as though it were a moral offence to not be presentably photographable in public.
Popping both eyes open, Shuichi said testily, "I am not going to change just for lunch."
Sensing the sudden tension, both Tatsuha and Hiro sobered pretty quickly. Hiro decided defusing was in order and reached over to ruffle Shuichi's hair, saying, "As long as you don't mind getting your photograph taken this way, Shu, just remember not to whine to us later asking why we didn't argue harder for you to change…"
It had happened before. Shuichi being belligerent had gone out in some of his most comfortable clothes; shorts and a t-shirt, and complained non stop to his band mates the following day when the shots were published. He had made them promise to never let him out into the world if he was not properly presentable ever again. He hadn't wanted another caption of, "The real face Yuki Eiri wakes up to!"
With a sigh, the singer rolled to his feet, snagged his bag out from under the coffee table and shuffled away to his room. Suguru gave Hiro a 'how do you do that' glare and plopped himself down for the wait. Tatsuha smiled at the little synth-master, siddling up close to sit beside him. Aside from tossing the monk an icy glare, Suguru said and did nothing.
"He looks ready to crash," Tatsuha commented softly. Hiro and Suguru looked over to find a rare sombre expression on the Uesugi sibling's face. "Looks worse than when I saw him last, and this is what you all call him 'doing better'?"
"We don't know what else there could be, he's explained himself over every concern we had," Suguru admitted. "There is nothing left of his to hide."
Tatsuha leaned back, a strangely thoughtful expression on his face. "You know, back when he wanted to give up on Aniki, he still couldn't let go. He was pretending… and I could tell."
Hiro looked up at the monk. He whispered, "What are you saying?"
"He's still hiding something."
Suguru and Hiro exchanged looks.
"Yeah, I know," Tatsuha murmured, "He's filled in all the blanks. All of them." Enunciating carefully, meaningfully, he said, "Every single one."
Suguru and Hiro began to look rather worried.
"This is a fine group of friends we make," the monk observed, pushing up and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He chuckled wryly, "We had an investigator and Shuichi has an insider. Everybody is second-guessing everyone else."
"Do you…" Suguru hesitated. "Do you really think whatever it is that he's hiding is really that important?"
"I don't," Hiro murmured, looking torn and very disappointed. "What ever is wrong is more in him than something about him."
"I agree." Tatsuha looked away, at Shuichi's closed door. "But I somehow feel that he… needs Aniki now. Back then, it was Aniki who needed him more. Now the roles are reversed."
"You really think your bastard of a—"
"Careful, Hiro," Tatsuha warned, eyes turning to pin the annoyed guitarist. Hiro huffed out a breath and wisely did not finish his sentence.
Suguru shook his head. "Why does that damn singer need so much drama in his life?" He complained, "Why can't we just be a band and make music? Just be people and have relationships? It's so frustrating!"
"I can't wait to see them together over lunch," Tatsuha said, chuckling darkly to himself.
Hiro calmly walked over and bopped him over the head. The guitarist ignored the indignant glare accompanying the two-handed reached for the abused section of skull and said, "Don't talk like you're plotting their lives! You remind me of Seguchi-san!"
"Don't insult my cousin," Suguru said absently, wary gaze on K who had just returned. He stood and went to rap on Shuichi's door. "Shu! K's back and we're ready to go."
"Just a minute, Grumpy!"
Suguru growled.
From beyond the door, Hiro was startled to hear an old English rhyme… sung with a twist, "Harrumphty Grumpy sat on the wall, Harrumphty Grumpy had a great fall. All the king's horses and all the king's men," The door swung open, "rushed to make Grumpy on time again."
"Nice outfit," Suguru muttered sincerely, rolling his eyes at the song, perfectly accustomed to the singer poking fun at him.
Hiro noticed how Shuichi had dressed in slim-fitting jeans, the same dark shade as his and Suguru's own. He wore a stitch-detailed black button up shirt, looking nicely complementary to his two other band mates. He had a leather choker on his throat, and his cross earring dangled from his ear. He had even brushed and styled his hair.
"You look like you're going on a date," Hiro blurted, without thinking. When Shuichi blushed a deep shade of pink, the guitarist blinked.
Carefully, no one said anything and collectively moved toward the door. Hiro exchanged a surprised look with his synth-master as they followed K and their singer out the door.
Tatsuha smirked smugly.
-
-
-
"It's beautiful." Shuichi murmured a little dreamily. He felt a lot like he used to… before.
He and his lover strolled over to the middle of the low bridge that crossed a small stream. There were only a few plum trees in bloom, the last of this Baikasai season, yet still ethereally beautiful. He looked up at Eiri, who was studying him with a gentle expression on his face that took the singer's breath away.
"I only wish I had taken you here a little sooner," the writer admitted. He turned to lean back against the bridge railing upon which they stood, while Shuichi leaned forward and bent to put his chin on his folded arms. "Next time, I'll take you to the Kitano Tenmangu Shrine toward the end of February; that's supposedly the best time and place."
Shuichi smiled to himself, enjoying the way Eiri spoke of the future. The writer hadn't been like that… before. Well, the future hardly mattered now but he wouldn't point that out. Things were fine the way they were right now. The changes in the writer really ought to be frightening him, but instead it was more like… all his wishes and little dreams were catching up.
It was as though his little wishes were rushing to come true before time ran out.
Wondering at his calmness, he considered that he ought to be feeling scared or worried about… his end. But there wasn't much there to feel, really. He hadn't been feeling very much lately, actually, just small surges of emotion every now and then. And not much of it negative. This was good, he decided instead. Better to accept it.
He turned his head, letting his temple rest on his arms as he looked up at Eiri's profile. So handsome, he thought, a ghost of a smile creeping its way across his lips. "I like this, Eiri. I like being with you."
Without turning to meet Shuichi's eyes, the writer paused before saying, "I'm enjoying it, too. You're quiet, though. But it really seems like you just want to be here with me."
Shu could have chuckled to himself but he didn't want to ruin the mood. It was funny to think that Eiri hadn't believed him when he'd said he wanted to just spend time with his lover. Although, shouldn't that hurt? He had always meant it, and now that he was calmer about it, it was only know he'd be believed? He sighed instead.
"Shuichi?" the singer suppressed the small shudder that danced up his spine at the sound of his name. Eiri looked over at him, "I know you don't want to talk about us so just hear me out." He looked… almost sorrowful when he spoke, "I can't expect you to come back to me, but I hope you know that I… want you to. Whatever it is that is holding you back from coming back to me, its okay. Just let me enjoy what I can have."
Shuichi felt still inside, like there was nothing but emptiness. He missed Eiri in more ways than he would say… ah, but that was just a dangerous path of thinking. He shook himself internally, his own head shaking a little at his own silliness, lifting his head to prop his chin on his arms. Gods, he really was such an idiot.
He asked softly, "Is it hard? I mean, is it too hard? We could stop before it hurts too much, you know. After the other night…"
"Especially after the other night," Eiri affirmed.
Turning around, Shuichi leaned back on the railing as well, hooking his elbows over the rail to lean back on them. He discreetly moved just those small inches closer to the writer's side; his right hand side. "I just don't want you to have any regrets when this is over."
There was a flash of raw emotion in the writer's eyes when Eiri looked at him, but the writer turned quickly away. His voice seemed deeper, scratchier, when he said, "All the regrets I have are… a lot older. And those are all the regrets I will have. I won't rethink anything that happens between us now."
Feeling a heavy weight settle in his chest, Shuichi's voice sounded close to cracking when he lightly teased, "Promise?"
Pressing a brief, soft kiss to the crown of Shu's head, the writer reiterated softly,"I promise."
Tilting his head up so he could look at the sky, Shuichi let the silent tears slide down to the corners of his eyes and into his hair. He focused on his breathing, sighing every now and then to release the pressure in his chest when it built up too much. Eiri moved to just within his peripheral vision and the writer's right arm slipped around his shoulders, pulling him close. Still looking up, he leaned his head against Eiri's shoulder, realizing a long while later that the tears from one eye were soaking the man's shirt.
But he didn't try to pull away. He breathed deep, inhaling that dizzying scent that was just all Eiri… and wondered if he died, would the memories and regrets still hurt? Would he even remember enough to miss this man?
Author notes:
I'm so glad things are moving along. Argh, it took me 19 chapters to write all my thoughts out and get things down… and now I feel I could have done away with so much of them! But then again, I had side stories in mind when I wrote them… and maybe I will still write them, you never know.
I have had a few people ask the same question: Will Shuichi die?
I didn't answer that because that is part of the story, its part of the reason you are reading it. But I think some people will be upset to not have an answer so, no, Shuichi is not going to die. His relationship with Eiri is everything in this story and I hate death endings when the characters have worked so hard to be together. I suppose I shouldn't be admitting this, but there you go.
This story is really not all that complicated. If you read or review it from beginning to this point, you will just see how Shuichi has slowly worn away, how he has given up. This probably gives you all the "he's going to die" vibe because that is how he has been acting, but that's not it. That is not to say he will be perfectly alright…
Ok, I have to stop with the inside peeks. Read!
And don't forget to feed(back) me!
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