Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting Inspiration ❯ The Hardcover Stalker ( Chapter 4 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Fleeting Inspiration
by Anna Sartin
. . .
Chapter 4 - The Hardcover Stalker
.
This whole vacation thing really had been a good idea, Eiri decided. Now that he was far away from the apartment and The Book That Shall Remain Nameless, Eiri's stress level had decreased significantly. He was currently laying on his stomach, on the floor, propped up by a pillow and his arms as Shuichi massaged various parts of his body. On his left side lay a several large pads of paper, on his right was an empty can of beer. Inspiration was flowing freely from his mind to his fingertips and he was working like mad to get as many ideas written down on paper (due to the fact that Shuichi had made him leave his laptop at home) as he could before they were lost.
"Yuki, my hands are getting sore," Shuichi's voice complained from behind and above him. An hour and a half ago this had seemed like a perfect way to get his lover to relax, but his plan had worked too well and now the writer wouldn't let him stop.
Eiri ignored him. Whenever Shuichi's hands left him the tension in his body returned and the writer's mind went blank again. He'd learned this forty-five minutes ago when he'd sent Shuichi to get him a beer. He'd never regretted his love of alcohol more than the moment he realized he'd lost his train of thought and couldn't get it back. Then a smiling Shuichi returned, beer in hand, and a whole new set of ideas bombarded his mind as his lover resumed working his skilled hands on his back. Fifteen minutes later Shuichi left again to use the bathroom and Eiri had briefly considered handcuffing himself to the singer to keep him from leaving again. But doing so would restrict the movement of Shuichi's hands on his body; and rather he liked it or not, those hands were currently the source of his inspiration. Besides, he had no handcuffs.
"Yuki, I'm hungry."
"It hasn't even been an hour yet, brat," he replied. As much as he disliked being dependant on his idiot boyfriend for creative energy, he was determined to put this spurt of inspiration to use for as long as possible. There was no way in hell he was letting Shuichi stop now. "You move and I'll make sure you die a slow and unpleasant death."
"It's been almost two hours, Yuki. Aren't you hungry?"
"No."
Shuichi sighed and resigned himself to his fate. "I still can't believe you let Tatsuha have one of your credit cards to use while we're gone."
"Don't remind me." He could just kill the little shit for blackmailing him. He knew plenty of Tatsuha's dirty little secrets and he'd never held anything over his head. Yet. He'd get back at the ungrateful little bastard one day for this... He cringed at the thought of his brother lounging around his apartment using Shuichi's computer to max out his Visa online on limited edition Nittle Grasper crap. Still, forking over his favorite credit card for a few days was better than the alternative. He did NOT need his father, Mika, or especially Tohma to hear about the jail incident.
"I hope he and Sakuma-san are having fun at the apartment."
Eiri's pen stilled. Even worse than the loss of his Visa was the thought of Nittle Grasper's vocalist drawing on his walls and... sleeping in his bed. He'd told Tatsuha to stay the hell out of his room during his stay, but they both knew there was a snowball's chance in hell of him listening. Damn Shuichi, it was all HIS fault!
Eiri knew he needed to stop thinking about it, it wasn't good for his newfound creative flow, but the image of his brother sharing HIS bed with that idiot singer just wouldn't go away. It was obvious Tatsuha was close to bedding his idol and was pulling all the stops to get as much "quality time" with the singer as possible. Eiri expected his credit card statement next month to include dinner at the most expensive restaurants in town, a date or two to the amusement park and/or the zoo, and maybe even a few kinky sex toys thrown in for good measure. Hell, he'd probably even go out and buy outfits for the damned rabbit.
"Yuki?"
"What?" Eiri snapped, looking over his shoulder to glare at his lover.
"Are you okay?" Shuichi asked. "You stopped writing..."
Eiri turned back to his paper. Oh shit... The ideas, the inspiration... they were all gone! In place of his muse was the image of his brother pounding Ryuichi Sakuma into his mattress. He began beating his head into the floor.
"Damn it, Tatsuha!!!"
"Yuki, what's that matter?" Shuichi asked, getting off his lover to sit in front of him. He pulled the pillow supporting Eiri's chest up a bit so that Eiri could bang his head into that instead of the floor.
The writer looked up.
"Before we go home, we're buying a new mattress!"
Shuichi cheered. "I get to go mattress shopping with Yuki!"
Eiri watched his childlike lover dance in circles around the room. "Get me some aspirin, would you?" he asked tiredly. For some unknown reason his head hurt. The fact that it might be because he had just been bashing it into the floor did not occur to him.
Shuichi danced over to where the suitcases were sitting. "Sure thing!" He searched though the suitcases one by one, looking for the bag that had Eiri's various medicines in it. "Hey, look!" he said suddenly, holding up Eiri's copy of "Four Gay Elves" for him to see. "How did THIS get in here?"
Eiri resumed banging his head into the pillow.
. . .
It was stalking him.
The book was fucking stalking him. Perhaps this was no ordinary inanimate object, but in fact an unholy tome possessed by demonic forces. Demonic forces that were stalking him and trying to drive him completely insane. Maybe he could perform an exorcism... God, I'm starting to sound as stupid as Shuichi. He opened the book and read the dedication again...
"To my granddaughter Lola."
Eiri was beginning to hold Eto's granddaughter equally to blame for the creation of this hardbound abomination against humanity. Maybe she had brainwashed the old coot, or sucked the inspiration out of him so that he could write nothing but trash. Lola Eto. He wondered if he could track HER down and... Eiri paused in mid-thought. He had to stop thinking about this, it was making him crazy. He hadn't come all this way on vacation to let Eto, his granddaughter, or "Four Gay Elves" ruin it. He needed to get rid of the book once and for all.
"Where are you going?" Shuichi asked as Eiri opened the door to their hotel room.
"Out," he replied. "I'll be back later."
He walked briskly through the streets of the resort town searching for an appropriate place to discard Eto's latest publication. An incinerator might be the best place, he would get great satisfaction out of watching it burn, but unfortunately there were no incinerators or bonfires on hand just when he could use one. He passed several shops, including a coffee shop, a souvenir store and... a bookstore. Eiri stopped in front of the latter, where a large poster advertising "Mamoru Eto's latest masterpiece - Four Gay Elves!" was displayed in the front window.
"Damn it!!!" Furious, Eiri threw the book as hard as he could and it went sailing upward in an arc before crashing back down to earth. Satisfied, he turned to leave.
"Hold it! Stop right there!" A police officer, who had just come out of the coffee shop, came running up to him.
Twenty minutes later Eiri headed back to the hotel with the book he had thrown away (which the displeased cop had returned to him) in one hand and a $150 fine for littering in the other.
. . .
Laying in bed with his face buried in a pillow Eiri tried desperately tried to calm his nerves. He wasn't succeeding. The book was out to get him, he just knew it! Shuichi, tired of waiting to eat and disappointed that Eiri hadn't brought any food home, called room service. "He could have at least ordered something for me," Eiri thought, realizing that he was also hungry. Neither of them had eaten breakfast and it was past noon. His pink haired lover was laughing at something, but Eiri doubted it was worth the trouble of removing the pillow from his face to see what it was.
Shuichi laughed at everything.
He laughed at the way his socked feet slid across their floors at home. He laughed at the imaginary figures he saw in clouds and in the patterns of restaurant and hotel carpets. He laughed at the way Eiri's stomach growled when he was hungry. He snickered at his own private jokes, leaving the people around him clueless as to what was so funny. The introverted blonde secretly loved the sound of his young lover's laughter; hearing it somehow made him feel like the ebb and flow of the world was in balance. If was Shuichi was happy then all was right in the writer's dreary, secluded little world. Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes the singer cackled insanely because he had an idea so crazy that it made those around him want to run away and hide. At such times, Eiri was very, very afraid.
Shuichi's laughter continued off and on for a while, until Eiri couldn't resist the urge to take a peek and see what the singer found so hilarious. He was appalled by the sight that met his eyes.
"What are you doing?!"
Shuichi sat at the table eating his lunch while holding a familiar book in his hands. He looked at his horrified lover. "How can you hate this book so much? It's so FUNNY!"
"I put that in the trash! Where it belongs!"
"Oh come on, Yuki! This isn't that bad."
Eiri groaned and buried his face in the pillow again. So much for the world being in balance. He should have known that dumping it in the little wastepaper basket of their hotel room wouldn't be enough to rid his life of The Thing That Would Not Die. Now it had corrupted Shuichi too.
It was definitely stalking him.
.
~End chapter four~
by Anna Sartin
. . .
Chapter 4 - The Hardcover Stalker
.
This whole vacation thing really had been a good idea, Eiri decided. Now that he was far away from the apartment and The Book That Shall Remain Nameless, Eiri's stress level had decreased significantly. He was currently laying on his stomach, on the floor, propped up by a pillow and his arms as Shuichi massaged various parts of his body. On his left side lay a several large pads of paper, on his right was an empty can of beer. Inspiration was flowing freely from his mind to his fingertips and he was working like mad to get as many ideas written down on paper (due to the fact that Shuichi had made him leave his laptop at home) as he could before they were lost.
"Yuki, my hands are getting sore," Shuichi's voice complained from behind and above him. An hour and a half ago this had seemed like a perfect way to get his lover to relax, but his plan had worked too well and now the writer wouldn't let him stop.
Eiri ignored him. Whenever Shuichi's hands left him the tension in his body returned and the writer's mind went blank again. He'd learned this forty-five minutes ago when he'd sent Shuichi to get him a beer. He'd never regretted his love of alcohol more than the moment he realized he'd lost his train of thought and couldn't get it back. Then a smiling Shuichi returned, beer in hand, and a whole new set of ideas bombarded his mind as his lover resumed working his skilled hands on his back. Fifteen minutes later Shuichi left again to use the bathroom and Eiri had briefly considered handcuffing himself to the singer to keep him from leaving again. But doing so would restrict the movement of Shuichi's hands on his body; and rather he liked it or not, those hands were currently the source of his inspiration. Besides, he had no handcuffs.
"Yuki, I'm hungry."
"It hasn't even been an hour yet, brat," he replied. As much as he disliked being dependant on his idiot boyfriend for creative energy, he was determined to put this spurt of inspiration to use for as long as possible. There was no way in hell he was letting Shuichi stop now. "You move and I'll make sure you die a slow and unpleasant death."
"It's been almost two hours, Yuki. Aren't you hungry?"
"No."
Shuichi sighed and resigned himself to his fate. "I still can't believe you let Tatsuha have one of your credit cards to use while we're gone."
"Don't remind me." He could just kill the little shit for blackmailing him. He knew plenty of Tatsuha's dirty little secrets and he'd never held anything over his head. Yet. He'd get back at the ungrateful little bastard one day for this... He cringed at the thought of his brother lounging around his apartment using Shuichi's computer to max out his Visa online on limited edition Nittle Grasper crap. Still, forking over his favorite credit card for a few days was better than the alternative. He did NOT need his father, Mika, or especially Tohma to hear about the jail incident.
"I hope he and Sakuma-san are having fun at the apartment."
Eiri's pen stilled. Even worse than the loss of his Visa was the thought of Nittle Grasper's vocalist drawing on his walls and... sleeping in his bed. He'd told Tatsuha to stay the hell out of his room during his stay, but they both knew there was a snowball's chance in hell of him listening. Damn Shuichi, it was all HIS fault!
Eiri knew he needed to stop thinking about it, it wasn't good for his newfound creative flow, but the image of his brother sharing HIS bed with that idiot singer just wouldn't go away. It was obvious Tatsuha was close to bedding his idol and was pulling all the stops to get as much "quality time" with the singer as possible. Eiri expected his credit card statement next month to include dinner at the most expensive restaurants in town, a date or two to the amusement park and/or the zoo, and maybe even a few kinky sex toys thrown in for good measure. Hell, he'd probably even go out and buy outfits for the damned rabbit.
"Yuki?"
"What?" Eiri snapped, looking over his shoulder to glare at his lover.
"Are you okay?" Shuichi asked. "You stopped writing..."
Eiri turned back to his paper. Oh shit... The ideas, the inspiration... they were all gone! In place of his muse was the image of his brother pounding Ryuichi Sakuma into his mattress. He began beating his head into the floor.
"Damn it, Tatsuha!!!"
"Yuki, what's that matter?" Shuichi asked, getting off his lover to sit in front of him. He pulled the pillow supporting Eiri's chest up a bit so that Eiri could bang his head into that instead of the floor.
The writer looked up.
"Before we go home, we're buying a new mattress!"
Shuichi cheered. "I get to go mattress shopping with Yuki!"
Eiri watched his childlike lover dance in circles around the room. "Get me some aspirin, would you?" he asked tiredly. For some unknown reason his head hurt. The fact that it might be because he had just been bashing it into the floor did not occur to him.
Shuichi danced over to where the suitcases were sitting. "Sure thing!" He searched though the suitcases one by one, looking for the bag that had Eiri's various medicines in it. "Hey, look!" he said suddenly, holding up Eiri's copy of "Four Gay Elves" for him to see. "How did THIS get in here?"
Eiri resumed banging his head into the pillow.
. . .
It was stalking him.
The book was fucking stalking him. Perhaps this was no ordinary inanimate object, but in fact an unholy tome possessed by demonic forces. Demonic forces that were stalking him and trying to drive him completely insane. Maybe he could perform an exorcism... God, I'm starting to sound as stupid as Shuichi. He opened the book and read the dedication again...
"To my granddaughter Lola."
Eiri was beginning to hold Eto's granddaughter equally to blame for the creation of this hardbound abomination against humanity. Maybe she had brainwashed the old coot, or sucked the inspiration out of him so that he could write nothing but trash. Lola Eto. He wondered if he could track HER down and... Eiri paused in mid-thought. He had to stop thinking about this, it was making him crazy. He hadn't come all this way on vacation to let Eto, his granddaughter, or "Four Gay Elves" ruin it. He needed to get rid of the book once and for all.
"Where are you going?" Shuichi asked as Eiri opened the door to their hotel room.
"Out," he replied. "I'll be back later."
He walked briskly through the streets of the resort town searching for an appropriate place to discard Eto's latest publication. An incinerator might be the best place, he would get great satisfaction out of watching it burn, but unfortunately there were no incinerators or bonfires on hand just when he could use one. He passed several shops, including a coffee shop, a souvenir store and... a bookstore. Eiri stopped in front of the latter, where a large poster advertising "Mamoru Eto's latest masterpiece - Four Gay Elves!" was displayed in the front window.
"Damn it!!!" Furious, Eiri threw the book as hard as he could and it went sailing upward in an arc before crashing back down to earth. Satisfied, he turned to leave.
"Hold it! Stop right there!" A police officer, who had just come out of the coffee shop, came running up to him.
Twenty minutes later Eiri headed back to the hotel with the book he had thrown away (which the displeased cop had returned to him) in one hand and a $150 fine for littering in the other.
. . .
Laying in bed with his face buried in a pillow Eiri tried desperately tried to calm his nerves. He wasn't succeeding. The book was out to get him, he just knew it! Shuichi, tired of waiting to eat and disappointed that Eiri hadn't brought any food home, called room service. "He could have at least ordered something for me," Eiri thought, realizing that he was also hungry. Neither of them had eaten breakfast and it was past noon. His pink haired lover was laughing at something, but Eiri doubted it was worth the trouble of removing the pillow from his face to see what it was.
Shuichi laughed at everything.
He laughed at the way his socked feet slid across their floors at home. He laughed at the imaginary figures he saw in clouds and in the patterns of restaurant and hotel carpets. He laughed at the way Eiri's stomach growled when he was hungry. He snickered at his own private jokes, leaving the people around him clueless as to what was so funny. The introverted blonde secretly loved the sound of his young lover's laughter; hearing it somehow made him feel like the ebb and flow of the world was in balance. If was Shuichi was happy then all was right in the writer's dreary, secluded little world. Most of the time, anyway. Sometimes the singer cackled insanely because he had an idea so crazy that it made those around him want to run away and hide. At such times, Eiri was very, very afraid.
Shuichi's laughter continued off and on for a while, until Eiri couldn't resist the urge to take a peek and see what the singer found so hilarious. He was appalled by the sight that met his eyes.
"What are you doing?!"
Shuichi sat at the table eating his lunch while holding a familiar book in his hands. He looked at his horrified lover. "How can you hate this book so much? It's so FUNNY!"
"I put that in the trash! Where it belongs!"
"Oh come on, Yuki! This isn't that bad."
Eiri groaned and buried his face in the pillow again. So much for the world being in balance. He should have known that dumping it in the little wastepaper basket of their hotel room wouldn't be enough to rid his life of The Thing That Would Not Die. Now it had corrupted Shuichi too.
It was definitely stalking him.
.
~End chapter four~