Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting Inspiration ❯ Hard Time ( Chapter 8 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Fleeting Inspiration
by Anna Sartin

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Chapter Eight: Hard Time

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The fact that his lawyer was one of the best in Japan was something that Eiri had learned could be both a blessing and a curse. In addition to being expensive, the popular and highly successful attorney was always extremely busy. She'd promised to come and post bail for him (and maybe Shuichi too if the brat didn't annoy him too much by the time she arrived) as soon as she was able, but she'd warned him that she had no idea how soon that would be. She was involved in a lengthy trial concerning a well-known government official and was scheduled to be in court most of the day.

In the meantime, Eiri had settled into the bottom bunk of his cell to cool off before he gave into the urge to slam Shuichi's head into the wall. Damn brat, this whole damn thing was his fault!

"Yuki, please don't be mad!" Shuichi pleaded from the top bunk.

"Why the hell shouldn't I be? I'm in jail! And it's all you fault!" the author yelled from below.

"Hey, I'm not the one who got busted for trying to steal fourteen GRUDGE CDs!"

Eiri growled. Resisting the urge to go up there and sock him was so hard!... Instead, he kicked the mattress.

"Hey!" the pink-haired fool protested from above him.

"No, you're the idiot who got himself arrested for harassing a minor! And you STARTED this whole thing to begin with!"

Shuichi sighed miserably and climbed down from his retreat. He bravely entered the lion's den and sat on the edge of Eiri's bed. "I'm sorry..." he said softly.

Eiri ignored him and stared at the wall.

"I don't know what was wrong with me. It's just... knowing that someone ruined our song and millions of people are hearing it is making me crazy!" He struggled to suppress the tears he felt coming. Eiri turned to face his cell mate and stared at him for a minute. Tears began to slip down the younger man's cheeks. "I-I'm really sorry..."

Eiri moved his hand to the boy's face. Shuichi winced, as if expecting to be hit. Am I really that much of a bastard? Eiri wondered, using his thumb to gently wipe the tears from his lover's eyes. "It's... all right," he said aloud. "I understand. It's the same way I feel about Eto and his damned book."

"Why DOES that book bother you so much?" Shuichi asked. "You're obsessing over it to the point that... well... it's almost like you're taking it personally."

"It's keeping me from writing. That IS personal."

"I guess so... Why would you even buy a book called "Four Gay Elves" to begin with?"

"Well, for one thing I thought Eto meant "gay" in the poetic sense..."

Shuichi laughed softly, taking the writer's hand and threading their fingers together. Eiri let him, but averted his gaze to stare blankly into space. He took a deep breath.

"Up until now I've always thought very highly of Eto. He was one of the few authors whose work influenced my own when I first began writing. To see him write something so..." The writer stopped, unable to find the word he was looking for. He needed a cigarette...

Shuichi laid his head on Eiri's stomach, listening attentively. "...Something so?..."

The author waved his free hand in a dismissive motion, before letting it settle in the singer's pink hair. "I just don't understand how someone can go from writing masterpieces to writing crap."

"Maybe he's just getting old, Yuki."

Eiri stared up at the bed above him. "Maybe that's what I'm afraid of..."

Shuichi squeezed his hand, waiting for him to continue. "Yuki?"

The writer closed his eyes. "What if someday the same thing happens to me? What if I get old and start spewing out drivel and no one bothers to tell me that I'm making a complete ass of myself?"

Shuichi blinked. "You're afraid of losing your talent when you're old?"

"Maybe," the older man answered, wondering why he was admitting this to his companion. He was a closed person by nature, yet more and more often he found himself telling his secrets to Shuichi. He wondered why. "I never thought about it much until I went to Eto's apartment that day. I don't want to turn into some tired old geezer churning out garbage for the world to read."

"You won't," Shuichi answered with confidence. "If you get tired of writing you won't do it anymore. You're not the type of person to do things that you don't want to do, and you never do anything half-assed."

Eiri smiled. Now he remembered exactly why he talked to Shuichi; it made him feel better.

Shuichi returned the smile and added, "Besides, even if you do turn into a tired old geezer who can't write worth a shit you'll still have me, and I'll still think you're the coolest, sexiest man alive!"

"That's because you're an idiot," Eiri chuckled softly, running his fingers through his devoted lover's hair. But I wouldn't trade you for anything else in this world. They laid comfortably like that for a few minutes, enjoying the serenity of the moment until...

"Hey, you two!" a cop with billy club called loudly, using his weapon to bang on the bars. "Dinner's at six if no one shows up to get you."

Shuichi shot up from Eiri's stomach. "We get food?!!"

"That's right, you'll have the pleasure of dining in our fine establishment," the guard answered in a sarcastic tone. "To enhance your dining experience you'll even have your celery soup brought to you by my smiling face."

Eiri cringed. Celery soup?

"I don't like celery soup..." Shuichi whined.

"And I don't like your hair, kid. We all have our crosses to bear," the cop replied, walking away.

. . .

Three hours later the lawyer had still not arrived, and the lack of Nicotine combined with missing a dose of his medication was starting to mess with Eiri's head. He felt like every nerve in his body was on edge.

"I can't stay in here!" Eiri shouted at the guard. "I need my medication! And a cigarette!"

The guard was not sympathetic. "I'm sorry our accommodations aren't to your liking. Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to go shoplifting."

"For the last time I was NOT trying to steal those CDs! I forgot I was still holding them!"

"Like no one's ever told me that one before," the cop replied, rolling his eyes. "Just how do you forget that you're holding fourteen CDs?"

"Look smart ass, I'm getting DAMN tired of your attitude! Do you have any idea who I AM?" Eiri shouted.

"Nope, and I assure you I don't care. Now sit down and shut up and we'll both be a lot happier."

Eiri growled and kicked the bars, adding a sore toe to his list of problems.

Shuichi decided to have a go at the cop next. "Please let us out! Yuki really needs his medicine, he might get sick if he doesn't take it! Plus he gets really crabby when he misses a dose and I'M the one who's locked in here with him!"

"Thanks a lot," the writer muttered, glaring at him.

"Well it's true," Shuichi told him, before turning to the cop again. "Please, I can make it worth your while Officer... huh..."

"Eto," the cop told him. "Officer Eto."

The writer and the singer exchanged looks.

"Eto? Are you by any chance related to Mamoru Eto, the author?"

"As a matter in fact, yes. He's my father."

Eiri felt like his head was about to explode. No more... he just couldn't take any more. How much was one human being expected to endure? He sank to the ground, still clutching the bars. Either the entire Eto family was out to get him or he was officially losing his mind.

"So that means you're Lola Eto's father?" Shuichi asked.

"No, she's my niece. Her father lives in America."

Thank heaven for that. Eiri thought, clutching the bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. At least there was one Eto out there who wasn't trying to destroy his vacation... his sanity... his LIFE.

. . .

In the end, the combination of Shuichi's pleading and Eiri's banging his head against the bars like a crazy man convinced Officer Eto to send for a dose of Eiri's prescriptions. The author began to feel much better after the drugs had time to reenter his system, but he still wanted a cigarette.

The so-called "dinner" provided for them was the most disgusting thing the writer had smelled in a long, long time. Even the bread smelled like celery. Neither he nor Shuichi touched the soup, and any remaining hope Eiri had had in at least being able to eat the side dish was also lost. Celery sticks. He wondered if there was some kind of conspiracy going on and someone was using his most reviled food to torture him. He threw a celery stick at Officer Eto after the passing guard told him to "be a man and deal with it" while chugging down a can of beer to wash down the bag of Skittles he had just consumed.

"Are you allowed to drink on duty?" Eiri asked, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm off duty, buddy. I'm going home!"

Shuichi eyed the empty bag of candy mournfully. "Can I at least smell the wrapper?" he asked the cop, his eyes filling with tears.

Eto handed him the bag. "Here."

"Do you want to smell the can?" he mocked the author, waving the now-empty can in front of him.

"Go to hell!" Damn, was he ever sick of cops. They were either chasing him, fining him, or locking him up. Self-righteous assholes, his taxes paid those son of a bitches! Eto just laughed and continued on his way out.

Eiri went over to the bed and flopped down. When life sucked, it sucked HARD.

"Yuki, there's a Skittle in here!" Shuichi squealed, running over to him like he'd found a priceless treasure. "We can split it!"

"How the hell do you split ONE Skittle?"

"I don't know. Maybe I could bite it in half?"

"Just eat the damn thing!"

"Okay..." Shuichi popped the candy into his mouth and sat down next to his lover. "Yuki?" he asked, beginning to rub the stressed blonde's back and shoulders.

"What?"

"Your lawyer's gonna be here soon, right?"

"I sure as hell hope so."

"I don't want to stay here overnight..."

"You think I do?"

"No! They do things to people in jail, you know? I don't want to become some scary guy's girlfriend!"

Eiri snickered. "Too late, brat."

Shuichi moved his hands up to caress his lover's ears. "Meanie. Is that anyway to speak of your devoted wife?"

"You're a real nut job, you know that?" Eiri asked, feeling his nether regions awaken as his partner continued his gentle assault on his oh-so sensitive ears. He turned around to face the singer. "Besides, you might like doing things in jail."

"Yuki!"

"We've never done it in a jail cell before..." he whispered into the younger man's ear, who blushed as he was pulled him down for a kiss.

"Are you sure about this?" Shuichi asked, coming up for air a minute later. "Someone might see..."

"So?" the blonde replied as he began kissing the panting singer's throat. "Who cares?"

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~End chapter eight~