Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ The Disasters Brought By Free Time and Neglect ❯ 05 ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter 5

 

I woke up slowly to find that I wasn't in Yuki's bed, which meant that something bad must have happened. There was gauze covering my eyes, so I couldn't really see where I was, but the person who was sleeping with their head in my lap was clutching my hand. After fidgeting a bit, the coarse sheets and uncomfortable blankets on the plain single bed clued me in to the fact that I was in a hospital, as did the acrid smell of sterilization that they must spray around here to hide the stench of death. I thought briefly that I must have the chicken pox again; I had caught them a few years ago, and because I was so much older my immune system couldn't handle it, so I had to be hospitalized. It was one of the only times when Yuki had ever taken care of me. He visited me every day and brought me soup and things to do, and sometimes I would get tired and fall asleep and he held my hand the whole time. Even though I was sick at the time, that memory is still one of my best. It was really sweet, and he even went so far as to rub Caladryll on all of my itchy spots, which more often than not ended with steamy hospital make-out sessions that the nurses kept walking in on and scolding Yuki for.

I squeezed the hand that held mine lightly, to let Yuki know that I was awake, before I asked him if I had the chicken pox again. Of course, it didn't occur to me until then that you could only get the chicken pox once, and I was almost certain that Yuki would tell me that I was an idiot for coming up with such moronic excuses. Instead, however, the warm comfort of that hand was suddenly drawn back, and a voice that was most definitely NOT Yuki told me that I was “in the hospital because of some bad boo-boos,” but the “men in white coats” would make me “shiny in no time.” I sighed. Ryuichi. The events of the past few months gradually filtered into my brain, and I suddenly felt extremely embarrassed that I'd called Ryuichi by Yuki's name. I frowned, before asking him why I couldn't see, my mind suddenly conjuring hideous images of Tohma gouging out my eyes and keeping them in a jar next to his bed. He caught my hand again and told me that Tohma had been mad and done things that he didn't mean because he wasn't right in the head, and my eyes had swollen shut so they were wrapped in gauze with some stuff on them until the swelling died down.

I wondered why Ryuichi was there in the first place, but I knew the answer at once when I heard a voice from one of the corners of my room, asking Ryuichi if I was finally awake in a sleepy drawl. It was Tatsuha, and I was almost positive that he was here on Tohma's behalf. I couldn't help the pain I felt in my chest at the sound of Tatsuha's voice. He had, after all, matured in these last few years, and he sounded just like Yuki to the untrained listener. I sighed as they asked me if I was all right, before attempting a sunny smile and failing miserably, because my face hurt like hell. Apparently beating the shit out of people was just one more thing Tohma was good at. For the good part of an hour I made conversation with Ryuichi, which wasn't all that difficult because he and I spend an awful lot of time changing the subject, and Tatsuha occasionally commented on one thing or another. It was funny, after a while it didn't seem like I was in a hospital room anymore; the background noise seemed to just fade away and once Tatsuha brought us back snacks from the vending machine down the hall, it was like our own personal party. Well, as much of a party as you can have with three people in a hospital room during quiet hour. Though really, Ryuichi's enough of a spaz sometimes to seem like twenty people, so it was more fun than I'd had in ages.

Hiro showed up with Suguru and K a short time later, which seemed to bother the hell out of the nurses. Well, Hiro said it bothered the hell out of the nurses. I couldn't really tell what was going on with the nurses because I was as blind as an… um, guy who can't see because he'd blindfolded. I would have said bat, of course, but Yuki used to hit me on the head whenever I used a saying that was factually inaccurate, so I generally started a saying and then finished it with something lame that doesn't sound right. Nobody talked about Tohma the whole time. I kind of appreciated it. It felt more like I was in the hospital because I was actually sick or had broken my arm or something that happens to everyone at some point in their lives, not because I had just gotten into a fistfight with one of my former idols.

Despite what Hiro said, the nurses extended the time I was allowed to have visitors, though that may have been more from K's influence than anything else. Suguru surprised everyone by sneaking in a few beers, and Hiro was kind enough to have bought me a huge package of “get-well” strawberry pocky. I was having a blast by the time the nurses came in to remove the bandages around my eyes, but it hurt like a bitch when I finally had to open them. I touched my face like they do in soap operas when the handsome blind man's eyesight if finally restored after he's undergone a miracle operation (only to find out his wife is pregnant with his brother's baby after a night of passion when they were both grieving because they thought he'd died in that terrible boating accident), even though I knew I probably shouldn't have. It's weird when you're injured, and no matter how much pain you're in or how absolutely hideous your wound looks you always want to touch it, and then you're surprised when you find out it hurts, but you just touch it again, as though to affirm that you are, in fact, a real person who hurts and bleeds just like everybody else. I've been in the music business for so long, sometimes it's kind of hard to tell what's real and what isn't, so sometimes little injuries are a nice reminder. Mind you, I said “little.”

I asked for a mirror once the nurses were out of the room, and even though my eyes were still adjusting to the light in the room, I could tell everyone was pretty uneasy about letting me see myself. That, of course, only made me freak out even more about my appearance, at which point I demanded a mirror under penalty of “taking their temperature with a sharp and pointy thing, and I don't damn well mean in the ear, mouth, or armpit.” Tatsuha was the first one to grab me a hand mirror from down the hall, handing it to me uneasily. I laughed nervously and asked them how bad it could possibly be, before taking a look. Have you ever noticed that it's never a good idea to ask how bad anything could possibly look just before you peer in a mirror?

My face was dotted with purple in all sorts of places, especially my forehead from where Tohma'd slammed me into the wall, and I had little cuts all over the place. My eyes looked as bad as they felt, apparently, and they were bruised much darker than the rest of my face, though my left eye was worse than my right. I even had a few bruises on my neck, and one long cut across my collarbone from Tohma's wedding ring when he'd gone to punch me in the nose and missed. I was pleased that he actually hadn't managed to hit my nose all that much; I'm sure if he had, it would have been broken with the way he was hitting me. I surveyed the rest of the damage, only to find that with the exception of a few bad bruises on my lower back and posterior, I was fine. Or at least that's what I thought until I discovered that most of what was keeping me warm was an insanely long Ace bandage that was wrapped snugly around my torso. It struck me as funny; I should have suspected something was wrong when I'd felt warm in my hospital gown that frankly, didn't leave anything for the imagination.

I asked the little mob that was currently gathered in my room what was wrong with my chest, before I smiled as best I could and asked Tatsuha if he'd tried to convince the doctors to give me some boobs while I was sleeping. That seemed to break the tension that had suddenly overtaken the room, and everyone relaxed, all talking at once. From what I could gather from the little bits of everyone's version of the story I'd heard, Tohma had managed to break two of my ribs when he kicked me. The breaks weren't serious, and they'd heal quickly, but the doctor had given me a long list of things I could and could not do that he was kidding himself if he thought I would ever read. Ryuichi helpfully added that Tohma “wasn't really mean enough to break somebody on purpose, he just likes to wear shoes that have steel toes in them.” I raised an eyebrow and Ryuichi blushed, before I let out a sigh, put my hand on Ryuichi's head, and told him that I didn't hate Tohma for what he did. The silence that resulted from my statement was awkward and lasted far too long for my taste, so I leaned back in bed and asked K if he would kill me for taking a little bit more time off if I promised to write more lyrics.

My attitude toward the whole affair put everyone at ease, and after a while we got so rowdy that my doctor came in and told everyone to sign the damn release papers and party somewhere else. I felt kind of bad for having flouted hospital code, but I figured that at least I'd managed to bring a little life to an otherwise dreary and depressing place, and the nurses seemed to appreciate being hit on by nearly every male present every time they entered my room to “check up on me.” After the first three times I was almost positive they were doing it on purpose, and they seemed genuinely sad to see us go. We signed a few things for them, at which point I remembered that I was the lead singer of a famous band, so of course they'd be excited. It's kind of funny how I tend to forget little details like that when I'm not paying close attention.

I was ecstatic when we actually did take the party somewhere else, back to my own apartment. Hiro even called Ayaka and told her to bring Tomoko over, because for some odd reason my trip to the hospital had just become a weird, stress-releasing celebration. We stopped by a convenience store for all of my favorite junk food, and everybody was treating me like a porcelain doll, waiting on me hand and foot, which was endearing and annoying at the same time. Actually, it had been the first time in a while that I'd been taken care of like this, so I felt a little guilty about how happy the attention made me. When my little mob passed the front desk of my apartment building, the man behind the counter stopped me and directed me to the huge pile of flowers, get-well cards, and candy that I'd already received from fans. Oh yeah, the whole “being famous” thing.

Everyone helped me lug the gifts up to my apartment, and even though I had at first expected them to be yet another annoying thing I would have to deal with, they actually turned into a little game. We took turns reading the cards and notes, their messages ranging from sweet to really obscure. The obscure ones were K's favorite, especially since he always stopped reading when they went from being rated PG to being rated R, and he always said something along the lines of “Oh my. Well it seems like you have a very enthusiastic fan here, Shuichi,” which made us all laugh every time he said it, even though it should have gotten old really quickly. I suppose we were all just in one of those moods where everything's funny, no matter how stupid and un-funny the thing is in actuality. We separated the cards into two piles; nice things I would have to reply to while I wasn't working, and creepy things that it would be best to throw away.

We kept most of the unopened candy and threw out anything that looked suspicious, before we started to read the notes on the flowers. Hiro was shocked when he handed me a large and tasteful bouquet and told me to read the tag. I should have suspected that something was up; I was buried in baby's breath and practically had to crawl into the gigantic basket to find the damn tag in the first place, but once I did manage to find and read said tag, I fell over and crushed most of the flowers anyway. In the process I also managed to hurt my ribs, and with all the cursing and crying I did within the next few minutes I suddenly had everyone's attention anyway. Once I'd calmed myself down, I laughed at my own clumsiness and rubbed at my eyes, at which point little Tomoko reached into the lopsided bouquet, plucked off the tag and toddled over to me, crawling into my lap and settling down to suck on her hand. One of the things I adored about Tomoko was her childish ability to hone in on exactly what was important. With Hiro and Ayaka's genes, the kid was bound to be a rocket scientist or brain surgeon or something equally challenging, and I bet she'd do it with as much style and grace as her parents. I also loved the fact that it wasn't enough to just suck on one single digit, no; she had to jam her whole tiny little hand inside her mouth. She was a sweetheart, plain and simple, and I vowed then to spoil her relentlessly.

I read the card, amused, to the group of friends that had gathered around me in concern. It was simple, elegant, and yet seemed very generic, the loopy font and long winded poetry making it difficult to keep my gag-reflex in check. It was a hybrid apology-get-well-soon card from none other than Tohma himself. After I'd finished reading the card, I couldn't help but laugh, shaking my head before setting it aside. Ryuichi looked worried, but I gave Tatsuha a look that I hoped he would interpret as “I know exactly who you're reporting to, and you didn't fool me for a second.” I didn't make any further comments on the ill-fated arrangement, but I did quietly set the note aside, placing it in the “to reply” pile for later. I went back to sorting the rest of the pile as though nothing had happened, and after a short time everyone got the hint that I wasn't about to mess up my own party over something so trivial, so we all went back to what we were doing.

Before we knew it, it was just past midnight and Tomoko had long since fallen asleep in my lap. Hiro and Ayaka gave each other the “we really have to go home now” look, but I saw it and told them that there was no way I was letting them drive this late at night, especially since we'd all had a few drinks and Tomoko was with them. I offered Hiro and Ayaka the guest bedroom, and Ryuichi and Tatsuha the fold out couch, provided that they didn't try anything “funny” on my poor, innocent furniture. I had by then exhausted what room I had in my apartment, but K accepted when I offered him the floor of my bedroom. I practically had to knock Suguru out to make him spend the night, but I finally convinced him to share the bed with me. Really, K probably could have fit on it too; the damn thing was practically large enough to qualify as a small province. We all said our goodnights then, and I was completely exhausted, so I had no trouble falling asleep. My last thought before I drifted off was how happy I was that there was finally some life in my apartment.

They all left pretty early the next morning, which left me alone to reply to my letters, as well as to receive about a truckload more. During my sorting I was surprised and delighted to find a big bouquet of flowers from ASK, along with a signed copy of their CD and about twenty pounds of sweets. While munching on my various edible presents, I decided to answer Tohma's letter first. I made about a million rough drafts, each one far worse than the one before it, and I had to really control myself not to make one nasty comment or another. I wondered how I was supposed to reply to something like this. I mean, did they make greeting cards for this sort of thing? “Gee whiz, but I'm sorry you beat me up with your fucking steel-toed boots, let's be friends now okay?” It took me about fifteen minutes to get it together after that thought, especially since my hands took the liberty of designing greeting cards for just such an occasion while my mind was on holiday. After about three hours of work, I finally managed to pull off a card that not only didn't sound like I was a childish prick, it also apologized for the fact that I had previously actually been a childish prick. I smiled, proud of myself, before getting back to work on the rest of the letters.

The media hadn't picked up on Tohma's little vacation from sanity, so K told the press that I had been beaten in a mugging. Ryuichi told me how grateful he was that I didn't force him to choose between his two “most fantastical” friends, which I interpreted as Tohma's relief that I hadn't decided to press charges and give him unwanted media attention, especially since being convicted of assault sometimes had the habit of getting your children taken away from you. In all honesty, I didn't hate Tohma for what he did. I completely understood, in fact, and if someone had insulted the people I cared about as… thoroughly as I had, I probably would have flipped out too. I didn't want to think that I deserved my injuries, but on some level I did. And perhaps now I would be more careful about what I said, and to whom.

The bruises faded in the weeks that followed, and I didn't hear much from Tohma, or anyone else for that matter. My ribs were healing up nicely, and I'd gone back to work after I'd successfully managed to bore myself out of my skull. It wouldn't be until about a month after the incident that things would start getting interesting again. The official biography of all things Nittle Grasper was being released, and there was a big to-do over it at NG. All of NG's talent would be there, from rock stars to actors to philanthropists, as well as Nittle Grasper themselves, and as a member of Bad Luck I was invited (by which I mean threatened with death if I didn't show) to the grand occasion. I didn't really want to go, especially if it meant having to face Tohma. It wasn't that he frightened me; it was more that I just didn't want the awkwardness that would result from our meeting. K eventually suckered me into it, and Hiro promised to be supportive, but I could also tell that they were both excited about showcasing their talent, as well as their gorgeous wives, at something that promised to be the biggest social event of the year.

It was a black tie occasion, and I managed to get away with wearing a maroon tie without being shot, but I still wanted to hang myself when we walked down the red carpet and into the building. If there was anything I hated more than being dragged out to a stuffy socialite party, it was having to wear a suit to the occasion. I had decided to take Maiko as a date, because this was probably the only way she'd EVER get in to something like this and I was feeling particularly brotherly, plus she was a total knock-out anyway, which made me look good. Or at least better than I would have looked walking down the red carpet alone. She was trying her best not to look like she wanted to wet her pants with excitement, and I was proud of her, because she was doing a damn good job. She even greeted other celebrities casually, as though she'd know them all her life, and was the epitome of poise and perfection. I smiled to myself, knowing full well that I'd probably made her LIFE, and once the boring announcements had been made and the party was in full swing, I told her to be a good girl and go have a good time, because it must suck having a brother as lame as I was keeping her away from the real stars. She squeaked and hugged me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek before losing herself in the crowd, and I milled about, occasionally talking to people who barely knew me.

I don't know what I was worried about, really. There were probably over a thousand people here, and the ballroom, yes, ballroom; the Seguchi's really know how to throw a party, was packed full with people wanting to see and be seen. It seemed to drag on forever, and by eleven that evening, not only had I been unable to find Hiro, K, or Suguru again, but I was completely and utterly bored. I decided then that I wanted a drink, preferably something that tasted enough like candy to hide the taste of alcohol, and maybe something fruity and fun. There was a long table of refreshments located somewhere in the room, and I managed to find it after getting lost twice. Just as I got to it, one of the waiters there stared at me in disbelief, before nervously offering me a drink. I accepted; it was something fizzy and sweet, and I downed it without any trouble. He stood there staring, before I struck up a conversation with him. I was actually thrilled to talk to someone who wasn't fixated on being famous, and once he got a little bit of confidence, we actually got involved in a deep conversation about music. I learned that his name was Suoh and that he was a fan of mine, though I hadn't needed him to tell me for me to know, and that this was his first job waiting for the catering company that had only recently hired him.

I dragged him to a table through the large double doors and out onto the balcony above the garden even though Suoh told me that he should probably get back to work. However, I was too excited talking to someone who was sane and normal for once to let him get away that easily. I gave him my full attention, and we had a few of the glasses from his tray as we talked. The evening slipped away after that, because Suoh and I spoke as though we'd known each other since we were children. I learned everything I could about him, who his parents were, what his dog was named, even what his favorite colors were, and he made me laugh until my ribs hurt. It was nice to get away from having to play pretend with the rest of the Barbies inside, and for once just have a good time with someone I was completely comfortable with. His manager finally came outside to yell at him, but I stood up for Suoh and told the guy that he'd merely been my own personal waiter. The manager was as awestruck as Suoh had been, because it was rare that idols paid any attention to the working class, and before Suoh and I parted, I gave him my number and a very generous tip. He gave me a warm smile before disappearing into the crowd.

I was dying for a drink by the time I found the buffet table again, my voice tired from talking to Suoh, but this time I didn't get lost on my way, if only because the balcony was close by. I hummed a tune under my breath and grabbed another glass of fizzy from the table, only to accidentally hit someone else who had reached for the glass at the same time. I turned to apologize, only to find that myself staring up into two beautiful golden eyes. I gasped his name without intending to, it just sort of slipped out, and I backed up a step, cursing myself the whole way. I'd wanted this confrontation to be different. I'd wanted to be strong for once, to be cold to him for once, but any intentions I had were thrown out, along with my spine, when I saw him for the first time in over three months. He looked down at me and gave me an indiscernible look, before gracefully picking up the glass that I'd reached for only a few seconds previously, sipping it and looking as smug as he always did at these painfully boring functions. I wanted to yell at him. Hell, I'm not really certain why I didn't yell at him, but instead I raised an eyebrow and snatched the glass from his hand, drinking it and leaning back against the table, waiting for him to react.

He stared at me for a few moments, before shrugging off my boldness and selecting a different flute, taking small sips from it. I gave him a sunny smile and asked him how his latest book was coming, and he looked both amused and annoyed at the same time before telling me coldly that he didn't discuss books with people who couldn't read. I'd been expecting an insult, so it didn't faze me in the least when I received one. I pressed on and asked him how Tohma and Mika were. He looked more guarded this time, probably wondering how much I knew of what he'd been doing in the last few months, before he gave me one of his cruel smiles and replied that Tohma had apparently taken up boxing, while Mika was struggling in her attempts to be motherly. I told him that Bad Luck's new CD was nearly out and that I was keeping busy, and he finished off his drink before telling me that he no longer had to listen to music that sounded as though it had been composed by a five-year-old with a rhyming dictionary. In response, I told him that someone who wrote dime-a-dozen trashy romance novels for desperate housewives was one to talk about the quality of writing.

He gave me another cold smile again, finishing off another drink, before telling me that he preferred to socialize with people who had actual brains, and I told him simply that if he'd wanted that he should probably have stayed home, because there was little chance of finding anyone of that description at this particular party. He looked like he wanted to laugh, but he stayed quiet, waiting if I had anything else to say. I was suddenly very tired of this game, of having to tiptoe around having an actual conversation with Yuki, so I just gave up on trying to be clever. I got on tiptoe and ran a hand through the blonde hair that I hadn't touched in months, before murmuring a soft “Goodnight, Yuki-san” and walking off to lose myself in the crowd. I don't know whether or not he stayed at the table after that, and I hopped from conversation to conversation until three that morning.

The party was still in full swing, even though I was exhausted. Hell, if anything, the alcohol that had been flowing throughout the room for most of the night was loosening everyone up, lowering everyone's inhibitions and making me uneasy. I had pushed my way through the mostly-inebriated crowd back in the direction of the buffet table in an attempt to get some air, when I was suddenly pushed to the ground, along with four other people. I got up to see what the commotion was when I witnessed one very-familiar, very blonde writer tackle one of the waiters, snarling as they hit the ground. I was stunned; people were trying to pry Yuki off the poor man, and I could tell the waiter had a bad bloody nose, if nothing else. Members of the press moved in like vultures to get pictures of the fight, so before anything could escalate, I dove into the confusion.

I managed to get in between Yuki and the waiter, only to discover that it was Suoh. I pushed Yuki off of him then, yelling at him to calm the fuck down. It seemed to register with him that it was me, and I watched as his eyes widened a bit before he looked away, arms falling to his side in embarrassment at his own actions. I murmured some apologies to Suoh on Yuki's behalf, helping him up and handing my tie in an attempt to stem the blood flow as he was helped to the bathroom by some of his coworkers. I turned to face Yuki, so ready to bite his head off for just randomly beating up one of the waiters at his own brother-in-law's party, when I took in his appearance. He was disheveled, and his eyes looked both ashamed and wild at the same time. I could tell by the way he was standing and the almost adorable boyish confusion that was written all over his face that he was completely and utterly drunk. I'd known Yuki for a long time, and for the longest time I thought that he couldn't get drunk, but I'd discovered a few years into our relationship that it wasn't so much that he couldn't get drunk, just that there were different degrees of his drunkenness. He was very good at hiding when he was smashed, but I had learned all of his telltale signs. He was more aggressive when he'd been drinking, but his eyes also got kind of squinty, and he'd talk slower in an effort to speak without slurring. He normally rarely stumbled, so I was worried for him, because this was the most drunk I'd ever seen him and he almost never drank at parties.

The whole night had been one anomaly after another, so I decided that I'd had enough. Ignoring the questions that the press was suddenly shooting my way, I walked over to Yuki, grabbed him by the hand, and dragged him through the crowd and out of the building, before flagging down a taxi and pulling him inside. He was still panting from the fight, and I thought briefly that he looked sexy when he was messed up like that, before banishing the thought. We sat in silence, before the cab driver asked us where to drive and Yuki spoke up, giving him Tohma's address. I was about to protest; I was the one who'd gotten him out of that mess and out of that godforsaken room, and suddenly he was the one giving out orders? I would have given him a piece of my mind, but when I gazed over at him, he just looked so pathetic that I couldn't berate him for any of the events that had transpired that evening.

We arrived at Tohma's, and I wondered if I should leave Yuki to his own devices, when I decided against it. I'd heard stories of people who dropped their drunken friends off, only to have them pass out and suffocate on their own vomit, and I at least owed Yuki what was left of his dignity after the night he'd had. I helped him inside when he handed me his keys, and I managed to get him into a bedroom. I unbuttoned his shirt and directed him toward the bed, before I told him to lie down on his stomach and try to get some rest. I suddenly felt extremely guilty for trespassing in Tohma's home, and I wanted to get out as fast as I possibly could, but as I turned to leave Yuki grabbed my wrist and tugged, catching me off guard and tumbling us both to the bed.

I don't really remember what happened directly after that, or how we'd managed to get into such a position, but somehow I ended up on my back with Yuki's tongue in my mouth, shirt and jacket lost somewhere along the way. It was warm, and nice, and I hadn't been kissed like that for months, when I realized just why I hadn't been kissed like that for months, and I pushed at Yuki's chest in an attempt to get him off of me. I couldn't do this now, not after I'd come so far. I steeled my resolve; I wouldn't do this now, not to myself and not to Yuki, and I'd be damned if I was going to let my stupid bodily urges get in the way of my progress. I broke the kiss and pushed him away, before I called him an asshole and told him to go fuck himself if he were that desperate. He drawled that I knew he was an asshole before I married him, and asked me what my problem about it was now. I'm sure it made sense to him on some level, and in the time it took for me to ponder his statement, he was kissing me again.

I had to give the man credit. Even when he was completely hammered, Yuki was and amazing kisser. It was slow and wet and soft and cruel and sent tingles reverberating all over my body, and it took me much longer to push him away this time. It hurt. I knew for a fact that I didn't want to push him away, and it was nice to know that he was still attracted to me on some level, but I was through torturing myself over this. In my efforts to escape him, I managed to fall off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thwump, pulling the bed sheets with me. I thought that Yuki would get the hint by that point, but he was determined, and instead of calling me an idiot and going off somewhere to smoke and brood over how much of an idiot I was like I expected him to, he slid off the bed like a lazy cat and joined me on the floor.

I told him that he was a selfish dick, and he told me that it hadn't bothered me before, our conversation coming around full-circle. I looked up at him exasperated, and told him that I just couldn't do this, especially not in Tohma's own house. I then pointed out that there was probably a babysitter and a baby around here somewhere, and I wasn't about to scar anyone for life if they found us in the middle of anything. Yuki ran a hand through his hair and grabbed my wrist again, as though to ensure that I would stay put while he said what he had to say. In typical Yuki fashion, however, he didn't say anything, and I tried to stand up and leave out of sheer frustration. He pulled me back to the floor before telling me that I'd thought about having sex with him while I was gone. I rolled my eyes and told him that of course I'd thought about sleeping with him, and that that wasn't the point, but whatever I had to say was forgotten when he started kissing my hand.

I don't know what it was about that gesture that made me go weak at the knees; it wasn't overly erotic and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, but there was something about the way his eyes locked on mine as his lips made their was slowly up my arm, caressing and smoothing over every inch of skin with a carefulness that I'd never seen in him before. It was sensual and lovely and all the pain and regret and loneliness I'd felt in the months we'd spent apart suddenly intensified, and I knew that I couldn't possibly tell him no. Not while he looked like this, so desperate and alive and alone in the darkness of a foreign bedroom, eyes asking me, pleading with me for something, anything to make the loneliness we both felt just go away. We had sex on Tohma's floor, more than once, and he fell asleep with his head resting on my chest as I cradled him lovingly, knowing full well that things would be different, had to be different in the morning.