Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Narcissism ❯ 02 ( Chapter 2 )

Welcome to the second installment of “Narcissism.” Which, in fact, has nothing to do with Narcissism as of right now. But I'm working on it. I'd like to thank those who've reviewed so far, because your comments and complaints are what keep me writing, working to do better and go farther than ever before. I'd also like to thank the people who just read and don't review, because I do that all the time and feel guilty about it. So don't feel guilty. In any case. I'll shut up now, because I'm babbling. Anyway, on with this circus act.

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

It was a very quiet ride back to my apartment. See, Tohma does this thing where he'll ask you a question, and then he'll leave you to ponder the answer and get really nervous about what he's going to do. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with the fact that your imagination can come up with punishments that are far more unpleasant than what he actually plans on doing, so while you're stewing away, the fear gradually building up, he'll just sit there and occasionally glance at you to psyche you out. Fortunately for me, I know Tohma very well, and since I know he's just trying to get me to feel bad about myself I spend most of the ride staring out my window and trying not to relate random things to Shuichi. I've got a bit of a headache by now, so the respite from talking loudly is nice, though probably not what Tohma intended. Finally he pulls up to my complex and puts the car in park And here it comes.

“Ryuichi,” he says, in a voice that's neither neither stern nor kind, which is a very Tohma thing to do.

I give him a weak smile. “Is it bedtime already? Kumagoro and I thank you very much for all you help, but it's very late so we want Tohma to get to bed too okay? Bye-bye!”

He puts the child locks on the door, and once I realize that they don't work, I start pushing the button for the window. Except it only goes down halfway and I can't fit through properly, and then Tohma gives me another look and I feel downright awful, so I quit fidgeting and listen to what he has to say. Stupid childproofing.

“Ryuichi, this ends now.”

I make a face. “Says who? You're not around to baby-sit me anymore, so Kumagoro and I can do whatever we want to.”

His face changes from the cold mask of authority to something few have seen and lived to tell about. It's still Tohma, but his features are contorted in rage and he looks like he's going to hit me.

“I'm not around to baby-sit you. I'm not around to baby-sit you. How dare you. How dare you blame me for wanting a life outside NG. For wanting to keep Mika safe and happy while she's pregnant. For wanting to see her along every step of the way. She's my wife, Ryuichi. I married her, not for my parents, not for the Eiri's sake, not for any reason other than the fact that, despite what I'm certain everyone thinks, I actually have feelings for her. So the fact that you're trying to pin the blame for your whole situation on me just shows what a selfish little kid you are.”

I want to respond in my own defense, but Tohma's never outright yelled at me before, so I just sit there like a moron and try and think of something intelligent to say, which is difficult. When I have the courage to look back up at his face in the rear-view mirror, his anger has dissipated and he merely holds my gaze, his eyes cold, and most decidedly un-amused with my more recent antics.

“You know what else, Ryuichi? We're not eighteen anymore. And it's really sad that you still need babysitting, even after all this time. I've been watching out for you since we were kids, waiting for the day that you'd grow up and leave the Goddamn nest, but here you are, drunk and disoriented in the back of my car. And you're only here because I took pity on you after you got picked up by the cops for dressing a prostitute up like one of my employees. You are thirty-five years old. Get out and grow up.”

“I thought we were supposed to be friends,” I yelled from the backseat, head throbbing like crazy. “I thought you valued my friendship over everything else!”

“I could say the same to you. At least I'm not a clingy, overemotional alcoholic. Get a life, Ryuichi. I don't have to be around you all the time, so quit trying to make me feel bad just because you can't get anyone to stick around after they sleep with you.”

Okay, that one just hurt. That was probably the point where I started crying, as I pried at the locking mechanism, and Tohma sat, stony-faced, in the front seat, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. I finally managed to get the stupid thing to pop up, and then I half ran out of the car, only to stumble and hit the pavement like a jackass. I briefly hoped that Tohma saw that and felt very bad about what he said, but all I could hear was the screech of tires as he sped off into the distance. I made my way up to my apartment feeling pathetic and worn, and I fumbled with my keys until I finally found the one that fit my door.

My apartment is one of those luxury places that have expensive furniture and oddly shaped sculpture that some moron who took eight years of interior design threw up his ideas all over. It's retro-chic, or some garbage like that, and with the exception of the few personal items I brought with me when I moved in, I pretty much hate everything in it. But at least this way, when I trip and break stuff, I don't feel bad about it. I walked in and made my way to the bathroom, where I promptly spent the remainder of the morning throwing up. Once my stomach had settled, which it had to do on it's own because Noriko confiscated all of my pills the last time she was here, I crawled into the bathtub and poured as much bubble bath as I could into it. Once the tub was full, I sort of just sat there, wrinkling and playing with my battleships, trying to figure out what I was going to do.

I could see Shuichi when he wakes up, or maybe sometime this evening, or maybe I could pick him up and we could do something! Kumagoro gives me a stern look, and I think that maybe it's not such a good idea to see Shuichi this soon after one of my little… trysts. I sigh and close my eyes, but he's all I can think of, so I slide my head underwater and try to drown out my stupid thoughts. I like water, actually. It's one of the few places where everything is calm and silent and warm and you don't have to think of anything at all. I can stick my nose just above the water line so that I don't suffocate, but after a few too many tries at it I eventually get water up my nose and feel very embarrassed even though nobody's around. I lean back on a bath pillow and stick my feet out of the tub, because from my point of view, they don't look like mine, and it's kind of fun to watch them wriggle. The bath pillow is soft, and the tub is just the right temperature, so I close my eyes and inhale deeply, enjoying the soft scent of peonies.

I wake up hours later, when the phone starts ringing right next to my ear, and I turn over in confusion, only to suck about a pint of water into my lungs. Sputtering like an idiot, I stand up and stumble into the countertop, and clutching where I'm certain I just bruised my ribs, I pick up the phone. “Hello?” I say, hating how scratchy and high pitched my voice sounds.

“Sakuma san. It's Eiri.”

I slip on the wet floor and smack my head against the countertop, dropping the phone. After I come to a few moments later, I peel my wet skin off the floor and snatch the phone. “Hello Eiri! How are you? Is Shuichi okay, because normally you don't call me and I'm just wondering if he's okay or if something happened to him because I worry about him you know.” Smooth. He'll never suspect a thing. Idiot!

“Shuichi's fine. He just wanted me to invite you to lunch today. He called you before he left, but you weren't available,” he drawls with his usual air of apathy.

I curse myself for missing a chance to talk with him, at which point I realize that it's really sad that I wait around for his phone calls like a teenage girl. “Oh, yeah? I was busy this morning. With Tohma.” Aah Tohma, the perfect alibi.

“See, now that's odd, because I just spent the morning with Tohma, and I didn't see you there.”

Shitshitshit!! Stupid Tohma! Stupid Eiri for being so perceptive! “I didn't mean with him, with him. I was just doing something for him.” Please, please buy it.

“Yeah, he pulls that card on a lot of people. When should I tell the brat that you'll be coming?”

Thank all that's holy that he bought it. “Oh, is noonish okay?”

“It's two in the afternoon, Sakuma san.”

“I know that. Noonish is from 11 to three.” Damnit.

“Aah. He'll see you at three then?”

“Yeah. Sure. I'll be there.” I hang up the phone and sigh, cursing my lack of social skills outside of being pretty to look at. I glance at the clock and realize that I've only got 45 minutes to get ready, at which point I go to take off my clothes and change. Or I would have, but I was reminded by Kumagoro that I'm sitting on the floor of my bathroom, covered in tepid water, completely naked. Oh.

I make a quick change into an outfit that's especially sexy and leaves little to the imagination, before I catch a taxi to Shuichi's apartment complex. One of the only things I like about Shuichi's apartment building is that it's not in the middle of the city, but it's not on the outskirts either, so you have more privacy but can still go places. However, it's still almost as bare as my apartment, so it has very little personality. How like Eiri. I also hate the fact that it's about forty degrees below zero, a little fact that I overlooked when I was getting dressed this morning. Afternoon. Whatever. I knock on the door and strike a pose that I hope is cute and drool-worthy at the same time, but I'm disappointed when Eiri comes to the door first, coat in hand.

He gives me a look and raises his eyebrow, but he says nothing about the outfit. “We're meeting Shuichi at a place across town. Did I forget to mention that?”

I give him a blinding smile in an attempt to conceal my resentment. “Oh, it must have slipped your mind. I forgive you though, since you're a friend of Tohma's.” Backstabbing Tohma, who you're not talking to until he apologizes. “Plus you're always just so busy with your writing I guess you can't be blamed for being negligent.” Score one for me. I wonder if he knows I just insulted him?

“Hn,” he replies, giving me a look that's debating whether or not I'm smart or sane enough to have insulted the great Yuki Eiri. “Should I drive, or do you want to?”

I nearly wet my pants, wondering if he's already talked to Tohma about my little outings. “Feel free to drive, Eiri. Kumagoro and I will help you count the pedestrians you attempt to run over, or have you gotten tired of that game?” Here's to hoping that distracted him from my driving privileges.

He looks surprised, and gives me a smile that could freeze sunshine. “Sadly, I had to give up that game, what with having to deal with the consequences of having to bring a prospective casualty home. What ever would I do if I ended up with another Shuichi on my hands? Besides, you don't go out walking when I'm out driving, so what's the point? Ready to go, Sakuma-san?” He opens the door and gives me a little push through it, which could be written off as accidental if I didn't know that every one of his movements is finely calculated to make you feel as intimidated as possible. I follow him, remembering at the last minute to swing my arms, smile wide and put a little skip in my step. Like hell I'm going to let you phase me, Eiri.

We arrive at the restaurant without incident, which is kind of funny considering that Yuki Eiri drives like a psychopath. Well, actually, I'm not really sure how he drives. He has no regard for traffic lights and ignores most signs, and I'm not certain he knows that speed limits exist, but it's pretty obvious that he's damn good with that foreign monstrosity of his, or else he'd be dead by now. I'm also pretty impressed by the fact that the car's in pristine condition, but that could only be due to his high regard for all things cold, unfeeling, and mechanical. I think for a moment that if Yuki Eiri'd been having an affair with anything, it would more likely be his car or his computer than any living person. After all, he spends more time with them than he does with even Shuichi, and from where I stand he takes better care of them to boot.

The restaurant's a pretty swanky place, all delicate and expensive, and I know at once that Shuichi obviously didn't pick out where we were going to eat. It's… bland, and colorless, and only stuck-up pricks with too much money on their hands would ever set foot there. I'll bet Eiri picked it, and Shu-chan just went along like he always does. But at least I was going to get to eat lunch with my favorite person, and that counts for something.

We sit down in a small booth in the back and Eiri opens his menu, turning directly to the “drinks” page. I look over what food they have to offer and wonder briefly if they'll get me some crayons and a kid's menu, because I can't even pronounce half of this shit, and the other half is derived from places on animals that I'd rather not know about. It's kind of funny when you think about it. Food aficionados turn their noses up at the thought of eating hot dogs, but they'll pay good money for miscellaneous animal parts if you slap a funny name on them and jack up the price. I remember at that point that Kuma-chan has a special compartment in case of a crayon emergency, and so I spend five minutes drawing pretty pictures all over the overly tasseled menu. And tablecloth. And some of the leather seating. Eiri looks up from his own menu and gives me a withering look, before turning his eyes down to study the “drinks” list again.

“Despite the fact that I get no end of amusement from all the money you're costing the elitist bastards that run this place, you might want to cut that out before the waiter gets back.” I was unaware that his voice could be blander than it already is, but I can practically feel my cells being drained of their water for how very dry our conversation has become. The waiter finally makes his appearance, and I'm shocked that he can talk, what with his head up his posterior with his chance to serve the Yuki Eiri.

“I'll have a Guinness, and the spaz will have a chocolate milk,” he says, interrupting the waiter before he can speak, and sending him away before I can order myself some hardcore booze. Jerk.

I give him a smile and speak before I can catch myself. “I'm sorry Eiri-chan, but since we're not out on an official date, maybe I should be ordering for myself.”

He gives me one of his patented “you are a moron unworthy of my time or breathing space” looks, and then goes back to his menu.

Maybe his has the comics in it, because my menu sure isn't as interesting as his is.

I stare into space as the minutes crawl by, and the waiter returns with our drinks a few moments later. I'm about to ask him for something fizzy and full of alcohol when I'm interrupted by Eiri, yet again.

“I'll be having the duck. Get him a plate of chicken fingers and French fries, and if I hear a word out of you I'll gut you myself.”

“Extra ketchup!” I cry, waving, as the man half-runs from our table, order in hand. Which brings me to a new revelation.

“Isn't it kind of rude to order before Shuichi gets here?” I ask, fiddling with my wine glass full of chocolate milk and wishing I had a straw. What's the point of chocolate milk if you can't blow bubbles?

“Shuichi's not coming,” he replies monotonously.

I blink in disbelief. “What? But you said he was-”

“I lied, you under-schooled idiot. Didn't anyone ever lie to you before, or are lies too good for the mighty Ryuichi Sakuma?”

I glare at him and fold my hands. “What? Do you think I'm going to cry because Yuki Eiri broke his word? Why get upset over something that must happen on a daily basis.”

He grins like a shark, and I wonder briefly if Tohma taught him that look. “Aah, but Sakuma-san, my skill at deceit and treachery is no match for yours, now is it?”

I bat my eyelashes at him. “Why whatever do you mean, Eiri-chan? I'm often complimented on my purity.”

He sips his drink. “Only by those who don't know you. Though, it's to be said that very few do. And even fewer understand your motives.”

I smile coyly. “The mystery is part of the allure of the package, Mr. Romance-Novelist. Now, perhaps we should cut the cryptic garbage and actually get to the point of this little luncheon.”

“I quite agree, Mr. Pop-star. I've brought you here today to inquire as to why you're sleeping with whores that are all prettied up to look like my Shuichi, but I suppose I was going to be a bit more subtle about it, as I was so enjoying our witty banter.”

Shit.

“Been talking to Tohma lately, haven't we Eiri-chan? And if I have?” I smile at him like a pretty doll, waiting for his reaction.

He gives me a calculating look. “I'd ask you why, but I'd prefer not to delve into that train-wreck of a brain of yours. I'll simply state my purpose here. I don't want you anywhere near him.”

“Eiri-chan, I'm hurt. You're not afraid of a little competition, are you?” I ever so slowly circle my finger on the outside of the wine glass, a high-pitched hum just barely reaching my ears.

He looks me in the eyes, blonde bangs falling forward. “There's no reason to fear you as competition, Sakuma-san. Shuichi's too far beyond where your grubby little hands can clutch at him.”

“At least my hands are only grubby, compared to the bloodstained ones that clutch at him now,” I hiss, eyes narrowing.

“So you would try for his affection then, even though he's-” with me. Say it. “Because he's with me.” If you could just admit it for once, you cold, unfeeling thing, if you would just tell me that he's off limits, maybe I'd take you seriously. Because maybe I'd understand that there's some shred of humanity in there that deserves his affection.

“-involved in a relationship.” Forget it then. You don't deserve him.

“I suppose that depends more on him, doesn't it? Or are you unused to seeing someone put other people's feelings in front of his own? I'll take him if he wants to be taken.”

He shakes his head, and our food arrives. I feel childish, because his meal is so much more grown up than mine, but it can't be helped and I'm not about to let him get the better of me. We pick at our food in silence until he speaks again.

“You don't love him, Sakuma-san. You know you don't. And every time you look at him, every time you touch him, every time his eyes meet yours, you'll know.” He stands up, food unfinished. “Because you're a selfish creature, Sakuma-san. We all know it. You're so far above everything that you'll clutch at anything that looks like your lost humanity. And call me a hypocrite if you want, but if you hurt him, I will find you.” He looks me in the eyes one last time, his seriousness startling, before he places two bills down on the table and turns neatly on his heel, walking away.

I clench my fists, and my stomach turns, frustration and anger and sadness and a feeling that I can't name welling up in my chest and making it hard to breathe. How does he have the gall to pretend to know who I am?! What right do any of them have to think that they have any idea what goes on in my life? Tohma, Noriko, even Yuki Eiri, all meddlers, all of them! They don't have a clue what it's like to be Ryuichi Sakuma. They-

I can't think anymore. I just can't. I just start to see colors, reds and dark purples, and I want to do something, so I do. Grabbing Eiri's knife from his half-eaten plate of food, I stab it deeply into the leather interior of the booth, rending my name crudely into this bovine symbol of privilege and superiority. I dump my chicken fingers into a bag that Kumagoro had, and toss the knife across the room, where it makes that silvery ringing noise across the tile of the restaurant. Our waiter walks over timidly, as does what looks like the owner of the restaurant, so I traipse over to them like everything's fine and hand them the card being held between my index and middle fingers, which gives them my name and phone number, before I calmly tell them to “Charge it to my bill.” Leaving everyone in the place gaping, I walk out, Kumagoro under one arm and a hand in my pocket, looking casual.

I want to see Shuichi.

I need to see Shuichi right now.

I wonder what he's doing.

I pause, suddenly very afraid.

Eiri's going to tell Shuichi. He's going to tell him all about what I've been doing and Eiri will take him away from me and I'll never see him again.

Before my brain can catch up with my feet, I'm running harder than I ever have in my entire life along a route that I know by heart. I used to take this road weightlessly, and suddenly my younger years seem so far away, and far less complicated, but I suppose that's the price of growing up. Not to say that I have, but it seems as you go along things just unravel and tangle and all of a sudden you're left with Gordian's knot, and you can't even cheat your way through it. All I know is that I can't not see him anymore, because it seems like he's all I can see.

I skid to a halt in front of the NG building, though I half expected to be run over by a foreign car the moment I had it in my sights. I kept watch for any signs of Tohma related activity, but Kuma-chan and I were on high alert so we went into stealth mode. Though Tohma is unaware, Kuma-chan and I once played a game where we figured out every nook and cranny of the NG building, and exactly how the security system works, just so that one day we could surprise Tohma. It's a goal of mine, one of these days, to actually and genuinely surprise Tohma, because I think his face would look very nice if he could shake out the wrinkles, even if it was only one time. Except… we're mad at Tohma, so I guess we won't be surprising him any time soon.

I check the recording studio, and when I discover that nobody's there, I peek into that weird empty boardroom that they use to make important Bad Luck-y decisions. There, cowering in a corner with a gun to his head is my adorable fluffy Shu-chan.

Which is a misleading statement altogether. See, it's not his gun, it's K's, but that's not really the point now is it? I slip into the room unnoticed, and then settle myself behind K so that I can surprise him. Which I do.

“K!!!! I found you!” I pounce on him and knock him over, which earns me a surprised look from everyone, especially Shuichi, who has a bullet hole a few centimeters above his head, and is looking quite nervous.

“You were looking for me, Ryuichi?” K asks skeptically.

I give him a smile, and then a hug. “Always, K-san.” I hold up Kumagoro. “A kiss for Mister Bear?”

K leans over and kisses Kuma-chan on the nose, and I squeal like a little girl because that's just what I do when K gives Kuma-chan a little lovin'. Shuichi is still cowering in the corner, and I note that Hiro is looking tired and Suguru is looking shocked that K gave my Kuma-chan a kissy on the nosie. I bounce up on my feet, before turning my attention to Shu-chan.

“Shuichi.” I sit next to him on the floor and wrap my arms around his waist. “I want to do something with you tonight.”

Hiro and Suguru look more than a little weirded out, but I don't pay attention to them because I'm nuzzling Shuichi's neck and he smells so good that I want to build a house on his shoulder and live there forever. I could think of other places on Shuichi I would like to spend quality time with, too.

I smile when he hugs me back and starts babbling about all the stuff he wants to do with me too, and I'm relieved that he doesn't act any differently because I was worried that Eiri'd already gotten to him. Or Tohma for that matter, which makes me realize that I should get out of here before security sees me. Provided that Tohma's put me on his list, which wouldn't surprise me in the least. I grab Shuichi's hand and squeeze it affectionately.

“Let's go out dancing!” I suddenly burst out, interrupting him mid-sentence.

“Dancing? I, well, okay! I should probably call Yuki and tell him where I'm going, and-“ he pauses, eyes suddenly filling with hopeful determination “maybe if I ask him reallyreally nice, he'll come with us! I mean, he probably won't dance or anything, but… at least he'll have taken me out, right?!”

I give him an adorable, insightful look, inwardly seething that he just has to be thinking about that cold arrogant jerk at a time like this, when he should be thinking about me. And about how he's going to get to dance with the Ryuichi, his idol, and he should be overjoyed and not worried about- Oh Jeeze is that really what I think? No, I just want to take him out and make him forget his troubles for a little while. It's nothing bad. I just want him to be happy, no matter what, and if inviting Eiri along is what it takes, then- “Sure, if you think Eiri will come along with us, then it's perfectly okie dokie with me, na no da.”

He frowns, fidgeting with his hands. “I guess it's kind of a stupid idea, huh? I mean, like Yuki would be caught dead hanging around with me in public.” He laughs a little, but it's the kind of laugh that echoes with a tinge on the melancholy. “I mean, I can barely get him to hang out with me when we're at home, so…”

I hate this. The way Shuichi thinks he's not good enough for Eiri when the complete opposite is true. But I also hate that I can practically feel his loneliness, radiating off of him in waves. I hug him tighter. “Well we will just have to have enough fun for Eiri too, so that when you get home you'll have two helpings of fun stored inside you and you can share them with Mr. Grumpy-Romance-Novelist, right Shu-chan?”

He smiles, and my heart speeds up. “I guess so. And we'll make him so jealous that he'll be dying to come out with me next time.”

That's the plan, Shuichi, that's the plan.

We end up at one of my old nightspots, with glow sticks and glitter and all manner of creepy sexual diseases lurk in the shadows, waiting to pounce on unsuspecting victims. Okay, so I didn't take him to the most respectable place in town, but the booze is cheap and flows freely, plus I haven't been here for ages, so hopefully we won't start a riot. Well, unless we do it intentionally.

“Ryuichi!” he cries over the music. “Where are we?”

“In a nightclub, silly!” I cry back, pulling him through the crowd and up to the bar. In one of my moments of lucidity, I managed to convince Shuichi to go out clubbing with me directly after work, so we sort of “borrowed” a few things from NG's costume department. And successfully managed to avoid both Tohma and Eiri, which was quite a feat. It's funny, actually, I chose one of his costumes and he took one of mine, and now all I can think of is that he's wearing my clothes and they're going to smell just like him as soon as the night is over.

“But, well,” he tries to ask me something, but I can't hear him because I'm ordering drinks from the scantily clad bartender. I get him something big and pink and fizzy, and he downs it like a pro, which makes me wonder how many nights he spends doing exactly this, when his cold novelist refuses to acknowledge him.

“Hey Shuichi!” I cry over the thumpa-thumpa of the speakers.

“Yeah?!” He yells back, somehow on his second drink.

“How many nights a week do you come clubbing?” I ask, but my voice is drowned out by the music.

“What?!” He yells in reply.

“Have you ever cheated on Yuki?!” I scream back.

“WHAT?!” He yells, this time louder.

“Do you want to sleep with me?!” I yell at the top of my lungs.

He shakes his head, pointing to his ears and mouthing “I can't hear you.”

I give him a smile, before mouthing back “I love you.”

He smiles back, and hugs me. “I love you too, Ryuichi.” He looks up at me with his big eyes, looking ethereal in the twinkling lights from the dance floor. “Thank you,” he mouths, and I look puzzled, before he leans up to my ear and says loudly “I was feeling really bad tonight, but you made me feel better. You're a good friend, Ryuichi.”

Ouch.

I'd wince if I could, but he's too close to me. “Want to dance,” I ask, adding a half-hearted “no-da” to the end of it.

He nods, and we dance and drink and dance and drink and dance and drink, drink, drink, in precisely that order, until we're stumbling out of the club hours later, about twenty phone numbers apiece, laughing our heads off about nothing at all. I hold his hand tightly in mine because somehow I can hold my alcohol better than he can, and I'll lead us safely back to his apartment, because I want to keep him safe, even if it is simply to deliver him into the arms of his waiting Yuki.

He fumbles with the keys, and they make a jingly-jangly sound that reminds me of apple cider and whipped cream, except before he gets them into the door, Eiri throws it open. His hair looks messed up, and his eyes are bloodshot, and I figure out that it's about four in the morning, so I guess we disturbed his sleep cycle.

“Y-yuki?” Shuichi asks, his squeaky whisper making the fact that he's frightened pretty obvious.

“I was writing. I heard the elevator.” He replies coldly.

“I- Yuki- I- We went-”

“Dancing.” I interrupt smoothly. “And drinking. A lot of drinking.” I give him a lazy smile. “And then I brought him home, to you, Mr. Romance-Novelist. Safe.”

He looks back to Shuichi. “Will Sakuma-san be spending the night?” he asks, eyes narrowing at Shuichi.

Shuichi hiccups. “I- -hic- think so. If it's -hic- okay with you, Yuki. He's a little -hic- out of it, so… so…”

Shuichi passes out, then and there, stumbling into Eiri's arms and falling into a deep slumber. Yuki looks surprised and even a little bit embarrassed, but he doesn't even address me, instead scooping Shuichi up in his big arms and carrying him away, to their bedroom.

He comes back, eyes cold and wild again, before he stands in front of me. I grin up at him. “If I fall asleep, will you whisk me away like Cinderella and let me slumber away in your bed.”

He raises an eyebrow. “There's nothing on earth that could get you into my bed, Sakuma-san.”

“Owie.” I reply. I fiddle with my cuff. “Nothing happened, so don't take it out on him.”

He moves away from the wall, Eiri-language for “you can come in,” before he lights up a cigarette and flops down on the couch. There are beer bottles everywhere and his ashtray is overflowing with cigarette butts, and I can see from his pocket that he's already delving into a new pack.

“Staying up late writing, huh?” I ask, amused and subdued all at once. I sit next to him without being asked.

He takes a drag. “As far as you're concerned, yeah.” He pauses. “If you tell him, or Tohma for that matter, they'll never find your body.”

I put my face in my hands. “They'd never believe me anyway,” I drawl, drunk off my ass.

He inhales deeply, the end of his cigarette flaring up, and I wonder if that's one of the only warm things about him. “Sakuma-san, despite the fact that it grieves me to have actual interest, I have to know why.”

“Why what?” I ask, dumbly.

“We both know an inebriated Shuichi is an uninhibited, rather pliant and… easily manipulated Shuichi. So why bring him home when he's there and just asking to be taken advantage of?”

I lean back, putting my feet up on his coffee table and wiggling my toes. “Because heavy drinking causes impotence.” I reply nonchalantly.

He nearly chokes on his cigarette.

I blow my hair out of my face. “Because… I just can't be dishonest to him. And anything that would hurt you hurts him. It's kind of infuriating, actually. If he was anyone else, I would have done anything that was necessary to claim him, but… he just…”

“Inspires a stupid sense of chivalry and purity?” he asks, cigarette dangling from between him lips.

“Yeah.” I reply. “Stupid chivalry and purity. Getting in the way of sex and lies and messed up relationships.” I smile a little bit, and suddenly my feelings for Shuichi seem kind of far away.

He actually cracks a smile, albeit a tiny one, before finishing off his cigarette and crushing it in the ashtray, next to the rest. He stands up and goes to leave the room, but I stop him.

“Hey, what about me and Kuma-chan? Where will we sleep?”

He disappears into the darkness of his bedroom, and I wonder if I'm going to have to freeze in his museum/apartment, all alone on the couch.

A few moments later a thick comforter hits me in the head.