Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ This I Promise You ❯ Eiri's Promise ( Chapter 18 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Chocho
“Tonight, you’ll be in your own bed,” he whispered. Eiri kissed a trail, starting from Shuichi’s lush, pink lips, along his jaw line to his ear. He bit his earlobe gently and suckled it.

Anime/Manga: Gravitation Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Shounen / Angst / Suspense / Romance / Fantasy / Hentai | Type: Yaoi | Uploaded On: 03.17.2006 | Pages: 5 | Words: 8.7K | Visits: 655 | Status: Work In Progress

This I Promise You
Prequel to: Because of You
Written by: Chocho
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravitation
Story summary: Everybody assured him Rinjin Yasashii was just another obsessed fan with a crush and that there was nothing to worry about. Little did they know how wrong they all were.
Chapter summary: “Tonight, you'll be in your own bed,” he whispered. Eiri kissed a trail, starting from Shuichi's lush, pink lips, along his jaw line to his ear. He bit his earlobe gently and suckled it.
Warnings: M-preg, explicit sex, language, violence, angst
Key: [Blah] or Blah blah blah: flashback/dream
BLAH or Blah: stressed words
*: change in POV or time
 
***
 
Chapter 18: Eiri's Promise

“Eiri,” Shuichi scolded, looking over his shoulder at his husband.
The blond writer looked at him innocently. Shuichi could just imagine the celestial halo circling his head, held up of course by a pair of devil horns. Shuichi snorted and rolled his eyes at the image.
“No,” came Hiro's soft voice.
Shuichi turned back around to stare incredibly at the red-haired guitarist. “What? Hiro-“
Hiro shook his head as he stepped up to the bed. “I deserved that.”
“'Deserved that'? What kind of crap is that? Hiro, you're my best friend! There's no excuse for Eiri treating you like that,” Shuichi snapped. He cast his writer husband a side glance. “Even if he doesn't particularly like you.”
Eiri looked at him with a raised brow as if to say, “Who me?”
“How can you say that?” Hiro asked softly with a shake of his head.
“Say what?” Shuichi asked in confusion.
Hiro sighed. “I should have listened to you about Rinjin. If I had,” he shook his head, “maybe none of this would have happened.”
Shuichi glanced sadly at his friends guilt ridden face. He had been so angry and frustrated that nobody had taken him seriously. In retrospect, he could understand their reluctance. Rinjin had been unlike any other stalker, any other overzealous fan. He had acted the part of the great friend and confident. Shuichi shook his head. He decided to tell Hiro the same thing he told everyone else. “Michael, Kei and Kai told me four months ago that since Rinjin hadn't done anything, there was nothing you could have done. When he did, he struck in the early morning when I was leaving for work.” Shuichi shook his head. “He waited until I was alone.” He stared intently at Hiro. “Even if you had believed me, there was nothing you could have done to prevent what happened. If it was not then, than it would have been another day.”
The only ones who could have helped had abandoned their posts because of a text message they assumed was from Seguchi-san.
Hiro stared at his friend in shock. He then chuckled, shaking his head. “That seems so out of character for you,” he teased.
“Huh?” Shuichi blinked, confused. He had a feeling he was being made fun of, but was not sure exactly how.
Behind him, Eiri chuckled. “I guess even you have your moments.”
Shuichi glared evilly at him. “What's that supposed to mean?” he snapped.
“It means you're an idiot.”
“I am not,” Shuichi pouted, hurt. “I know I'm not very smart and that graduating high school was just a fluke, but-“
“Baka,” Eiri sighed. He leaned down and pressed his lips against his husband's temple. “I was kidding, you moron,” he whispered.
“Oh.” Shuichi blushed crimson, silently scolding himself.
Hiro smiled warmly at the couple. Their relationship may have started out rocky, to say the least, but through thick and thin, they stayed together. No matter what the cold bastard did to Shuichi, the singer kept running back time and again. It was obvious to anybody with half a brain in their head that these two needed one another in order to have balance in their lives. It was like they were each other's heart and lungs, something you could not live without. They were perfect for one another, two parts of a whole. They were so in love that Hiro was surprised that it had taken them this long to finally get hitched.
His smile slipped into a deep frown as he remembered that day. It should have been the happiest day of their lives and instead…
Eiri stalked into the living room, slamming the door behind him; an angry remark ready on his lips but it died a quiet death as he saw the co-founder of Bad Luck pull his hand back. The silence was shattered as the sharp sound of flesh on flesh resounded through the room. The writer was shocked to a standstill.
 
The writer was not the only one shocked by the tall red haired guy's actions. Shuichi was holding his newly jeweled left hand over his reddened, stinging cheek, his eyes wide in shock and dismay. Slowly, he turned back to his best friend. A tear rolled down his face.
Hiro sighed heavily. “I've been afraid to come here and see you,” he told his friend truthfully. “The last time I saw you…”
“I hate you!” Shuichi looked up from where he was glued to his lover's side, his face as wet as if he splashed it with water. Sniffing, he wiped his nose on the sleeve of his haori, his eyes glaring with something Hiro had never thought to see directed at him. Hatred. “You ruined everything! Everything!”
 
“Shu-“
 
Shuichi sobbed violently, his body shaking uncontrollably. “This's supposed to be the happiest day of my life and you ruined it!” He unsteadily got to his feet. “You come bursting in here with your fucking accusations without a thought. You didn't even give me a chance to explain myself!”
 
Shuichi lowered his eyes and stared at his lap, remembering that day all too well.
The memory of that day was still all too fresh in Eiri's mind as well. A renewed surge of anger flashed through him.
“No!” Hiro's hand snapped out and grabbed Shu's haori, jerking the smaller man to him so they were nose to nose. “Dammit, Shuichi-“
 
Before Hiro could finish that thought, he found himself lying flat on his back staring into the contorted face of one outraged romance writer, trying to catch his breath.
 
Eiri twisted the collar of the guitarist white shirt, not caring if in the process he choked the man to death. Nobody touches his Shu-chan, nobody but him and God himself. He pressed his face into Hiro's, steam pouring out of his ears and nose. He glowered hostilely at the red head. His fingers itched to pummel this man into the wooden floor until even his own mother could not recognize him, but for the sake of his Shu-chan, he had to try and sustain himself, but it was hard. “How dare you lay a hand on what belongs to me,” he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper. Eiri knew that if he spoke any louder, what little restraint he had would snap, he was that close to losing it. “I should beat you into a bloody pulp!”
“Hiro,” Shuichi whispered. He threw his fellow bandmate a sad glance but quickly looked away. “I…”
 
“I can apologize till I'm blue in the face, but it won't make up for what I did.” Hiro shook his head. “Kai called me as I was leaving your place and…”
“…Eiri called me this morning to let me know that Shu wasn't coming in today…I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, but I forgot...”
“I felt like such a fool and still do.”
“I…Kai came to see me a couple weeks ago and he explained everything to me,” Shuichi said. “I understand why you did what you did, why you barged into my apartment and I…I do understand Hiro.”
Hiro breathed a sigh of relief.
“But…I still can't forgive you. I don't know if I ever will.”
That was understandable. Hiro nodded slowly. He had known that, but it still hurt. Shuichi could forgive just about anything anybody did to him, but what Hiro did that day was something even Shuichi would not be able to forgive. He would never forgive himself for destroying their friendship. His head shot up when he felt a smaller hand engulf his fisted hand on the bed. “Shuichi?”
“But you are my friend.” He grinned at Hiro.
Hiro could not help but smile back. “Thank you, Shuichi,” he sighed, relieved.
“And friends look out for one another, right?”
“Yeah, you're right,” Hiro nodded, smiling widely.
Eiri snorted. “I guess you really aren't as dumb as you look,” he told his husband.
“Hey! Even I have my moments,” Shuichi snapped, turning to glare at his husband. His anger turned to confusion as the other men in the room chuckled. “Uh…I don't think that came out right.” That made them laugh even harder.
Suddenly, a loud wail overrode the laughter, startling them. All eyes turned in unison to the stroller by the door. Sighing heavily, Hiro closed his eyes for a second and muttered something under his breath. Opening his eyes, he reached inside the carriage. When his friend straightened, Shuichi cooed at the sight of the chubby baby cradled in Hiro's arms.
A tiny set of lungs lot loose a tidal wave of misery. The noise grated on Eiri's nerves. This is what he wanted with Shuichi? Buddha, help me, he silently prayed.
“Oh, Hiro,” Shuichi cooed, his eyes sparkling. “Is that…”
“Um, hm. Shuichi, I'd like you to meet my son, Nakano Kazahaya.”
“Oh! How old is he?”
Hiro stepped closer to the bed so that Shuichi could get a better look at Kazahaya. “Twelve weeks.”
“He's so chubby! Oh, Hiro, look at those cheeks!” Shuichi giggled and reached out to touch Kazahaya's tiny fisted hands. Immediately, silence filtered through the room. Shuichi laughed harder when Kazahaya grabbed his finger.
Hiro blinked in amazement and shock. His son never acted like this with anyone, not even him and Ayaka. It usually took them several minutes of rocking or a binki to quiet him down. But all Shuichi did was touch his hand. How the bloody hell did he do that? He watched his son open bright blue eyes.
Shuichi giggled as he watched the baby intently as he studied his surroundings.
“Would you like to hold him?” Hiro asked softly.
Shuichi's head snapped up, his eyes wide. “Really? Could I?”
 
Hiro nodded.
 
Shuichi held out his arms as Hiro gladly handed him Kazahaya.
Hiro smiled and stepped back, watching his friend. He then turned to look at Yuki-san who was now up standing besides the bed. He was watching his husband, a smile playing with the corner of his lips. His whole face had taken on a gentleness. Hiro was taken back. This was the first time he ever saw the cold, angry, stoic writer act so human before. It was like he had stepped into an alternate universe, or something.
Hiro turned back to Shuichi.
Shuichi was a natural. “Hi! I'm your uncle Shuichi and that drop dead gorgeous hunk over there is Uncle Eiri!”
 
Eiri snorted, feeling his face grow warm at the compliment, rolling his eyes.
 
Shuichi glanced up at him, his face beaming and his eyes twinkling with laughter. “You're so cute,” he cooed, turning back to Kazahaya. “Yes, you are!” Kazahaya's face split into a face eating grin. “Yeah! You're the cutest thing and I bet you're so spoiled, aren't you? Spoiled little Kaza-kun!” Kazahaya laughed, his face crinkled up in laughter. To Shuichi it was the most beautiful sound in the world. It was like the sun revealing itself after a storm, but it also pained the singer. As fast as he was growing fond and attached to his nephew, it also hurt to see him. Shuichi lifted his head and glanced at Eiri, tears prickling his eyes.
Hiro blinked, confused. Tears? Why was Shuichi crying? Something flashed across both Shuichi's and Eiri's faces that he could not decipher. What was going on?
Shuichi smiled down at Kazahaya who was staring at him. An overwhelming sense of loss swept over him. If things had gone differently…
As Shuichi bounced his nephew lightly on his knee, he came to a decision. He looked up at Eiri, knowing that his face was an open book. I want this, his expression screamed. I want this.
*
“He's a beautiful baby,” Shuichi told his friend quietly as Hiro gently put his sleeping son in the stroller.
“Thank you.” Hiro straightened. He had a beaming smile plastered on his face as he watched his son.
“He looks like Ayaka-san.”
Hiro smiled wistfully. “Her looks and hopefully my talent.” Turning around, he caught sight of the yearning expression on both Shuichi and Eiri's faces. Frowning, he wondered once against what was going through their minds. For the longest time, Shuichi had admitted to being jealous of how everybody he knew, with the exception of Tatsuha and Ryuichi, could get married and have a family without any sort of trouble, without having people look at them scornfully and suspiciously. “Hey, Shuichi-“
A huge yawn seized Shuichi. He rubbed heavy lidded eyes, fighting the strong urge to rest his eyes.
“Alright,” Eiri commanded, watching his husband's drawn haggard face. “That's enough for today.”
As predicted, Shuichi whined in protest, despite the fact he knew he was right. He could hardly keep his eyes open all of a sudden. He figured the adrenaline rush he received after his best friend and new nephew was wearing off.
Eiri shot him a look.
Shuichi clamped his mouth shut and swallowed, smiling sheepishly.
Hiro chuckled nervously. “It's alright, Shu. I should get going anyway.” The two friends embraced, but Hiro quickly pulled away when he noticed a warning glint in the blond writer's eyes. He swallowed. Never before had he been so aware of someone's disapproval before. “I'll visit again,” he comforted his friend as he maneuvered the stroller to the hospital room door. “We're going to Kyoto on Monday for a week or so. I guess Usami-san has been really sick lately.”
“Oh, I hope he's going to be alright,” Shuichi said over a yawn.
Hiro chuckled as he skirted the stroller to hold open the door to push the stroller through. “The old codger is so damn stubborn; he'd make Death work around his schedule.” Propping the door open with his back, Hiro wheeled his son out of the room.
“Say `hi' to Ayaka-san for me,” Shuichi called after him.
“I will,” Hiro nodded. “See ya later, Shu.”
“Bye, Hiro!”
When the door shut behind Hiro, Eiri linked their fingers together, their wedding rings clinking. He brought their clasped hands up and placed a tiny kiss on each of his husband's fingertips.
Blushing, Shuichi smiled at him. “I love you,” he whispered. He yawned again.
Eiri returned his smile and ran a hand over Shuichi's hair, noticing the soft silky feel of it as it ran through his fingers. “I know,” he said. “Now go to sleep.”
Shuichi snuggled down under the covers. “Remember,” he yawned. “You promised.”
“So I did.” He leaned down and kissed his forehead.
“You won't forget?”
“No, I won't forget. I'll go talk to Dr. Ohtani now.”
Shuichi's eyes popped open and he flew up, all thoughts of sleep vanishing like snow in June. Fear and anxiety raced across his face. With wide eyes, a pounding heart and sweat pouring down his body, he grabbed hold of his husband, frantically searching his face. “Don't leave me,” he practically shouted in rising panic. “Please, don't leave me!”
 
Images flashed through his mind, of him outside their apartment, alone, with an advancing Rinjin, a covetous gleam in his eyes. He remembered waking up in total darkness and silence, again alone with Rinjin, hearing those falsely, insane words.
 
“I won't hurt you, you know that! I'm here to help you! I want to save you...I love you…We belong together…Believe what you want, Shu-han. For you are mine…I'm doing all this for us, Shu-han, for our future!”
 
Not again! Not ever again! He never wanted to be alone again!
Eiri blinked, startled at the singer's outburst, then sighed heavily and pulled Shuichi into a hug. “How many times do we have to go through this? I won't leave you,” he stated firmly.
Shuichi clung to him, crying and shaking.
Eiri rolled his eyes heavenward and muttered silently to himself.
For some reason, Shuichi's separation anxiety and abandonment issues had returned worse than ever since he woke from his coma. If Eiri was not in the room when he woke up, he threw a fit and literally went berserk. His first night out of the coma, Shuichi woke up after a particularly disturbing nightmare to discover that his husband was not in the room with him. It did not matter that visitation hours were over and that Eiri had been forced to go back home. The only thing he knew was that Eiri was not there. He had abandoned him. He started screaming and thrashing about so widely that the hospital staff had been forced to sedate him. For the rest of the week, the very same thing happened. It got to such a point they had to prescribe some sleeping pills for him to take before he went to bed at night.
Some times, Shuichi was fine when he knew his husband was not going to be around, but at other times, like now, he refused to allow him to leave. If he could, Shuichi would handcuff the writer to him so that he could not go anywhere without first alerting him first. When he got like this, Eiri waited until he was asleep before he left, making damn sure he returned before he woke. It did not matter if someone else was in the room with him when he got like this. Nobody could calm him down but Eiri at times like these, not even his own parents.
Shuichi admitted he was afraid. He feared that once out of his sight, Eiri would disappear and he would never see him again. It was like how young children thought before they learned the difference. Out of sight, out of mind. If they could not see it then it was gone.
“Don't leave me! Please, don't leave me! Please,” Shuichi mumbled over and over.
Eiri shushed him, holding him tight. “I promise you, Shuichi. I won't ever let you go. I almost lost you once and I don't plan on ever going through that again.” He chocked back a sob. “You scared the shit out of me, Shu-han and I promise you, now and forever, I won't ever let you go.”
He continued to rock and console Shuichi, reassure him that everything was going to be alright until he felt his husband's body relax and his breathing even. He pried Shuichi off of him and gently pushed him back onto the bed. With a smirk, he pressed their lips together then quietly walked out of the room, thinking, He's so cute.
*
It was a dream. Part of me knew that, but it was so real that the other part did not want to believe it.
I was lying in bed besides Eiri's softly snoring form. The moonlight filtered in through the shades covering the window across the room, throwing a soft glow about the bedroom. Tossing back the sheets, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grabbed the pink lacquer cane leaning against the nightstand. Quietly, so I did not disturb my sleeping husband, I creep out of the room and tiptoe down the hall to the extra bedroom that at one time housed all the awards Bad Luck had received and all the stuffed animals and things our fans had given me. The awards had been moved into the room Eiri used as his office and all the stuffed animals and whatnot had been donated to various children's charities a year ago.
As I near the door, I notice it is open.
Entering the room, I see the lamp that looks like a bunny rabbit had been turned on and was acting as a nightlight. I walk across the room towards two white cribs that sat at opposite angles to the room's only window, a smile growing on my face. Standing between the cribs, I glance down at the small forms sleeping on their stomachs, a rolled up blanket placed under their side to keep them from smothering their faces in the mattress.
Their faces were hidden in shadow, but I knew. These were my boys, my two lovely boys. Smiling down at them, I silently thank Buddha and Kami-sama for this wonderful blessing and miracle.
Placing my cane against the side of the crib to my left, I reach a hand inside and trace my son's cheek lightly.
A noise from behind me drew my attention. I glance over my shoulder and smile at the tall man standing in the doorway. Turning back around, I smile down at my boys.
Violet eyes fluttered open and stared at the window across from the bed blankly. He was vaguely aware that the shades had been drawn over the windows. They had been open when he fell asleep.
With a yawn, he flipped onto his back and stretched, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and ran his fingers through his bed head hair. Sighing, he glanced about the small room that had become his home for the past four months and for the first time noticed that he was alone.
He flew up in bed, panting heavily and feeling a surge of fear rush through him. His heart started racing and he began to sweat. He was alone, just like that day.
The memory flashed through his mind, as fresh as if it had just happened. He pictured himself walking down the dark, silent hall, alone, his guards nowhere in sight.
Shuichi shook the memory away violently. He relived that horrible day every night in his dreams and that was enough.
“Eiri,” he shouted. “Eiri! Eiri!” No, no, no! Where was he? He promised! He swore he would not leave, that he would stay with him! He promised! Had something happened to him? Oh, dear, Kami-sama! Was Eiri hurt? He could be lying bleeding and unconscious in a gutter somewhere right now! No! “Eiri! Eiri,” he cried hysterically. “Eiri!”
How he heard the door open over his ear splitting wails and cries for his husband was something nobody could figure out, or ever would.
At the first sound of their clients screams, the two bodyguards shot into action. Drawing their guns, they flung open the door to the hospital room. With expert precision, their gaze and guns swept over the room, taking in everything at once.
Shuichi sat in the bed, his face red and drenched with tears. He glanced at the door, hopeful, but his hopes were shattered when he realized it was only his bodyguards and not his husband. Fresh tears trailed down his face. He buried his face in his hands and cried. His body shook with unchecked sobs.
Marcus glanced at his partner and chucked his head towards the door. Blade inclined his head and exited the room, reholstering his piece. Shutting the door behind him, he retook his post. Meanwhile, Marcus put up his gun as well. “Mr. Shindou,” he called, trying to be heard over the man's continuing cries.
“Where's Eiri,” Shuichi sobbed. “Where is he? Why isn't he here?”
“Mr. Uesugi will be here shortly,” Marcus told his young client in an effort to comfort the younger man, despite the fact that Shuichi would not be able to understand a word he was saying.
Shuichi only sobbed louder and cried harder.
The door opened behind them. Marcus, a hand on the butt of his gun, turned sharply. Shuichi's tears stopped and silence descended upon the room once again. He turned hopeful eyes towards the door, but was once again disappointed. Shuichi dropped his face in his hands and started bawling, his whole tiny frame shaking. He collapsed into a ball in the middle of the bed and sobbed.
“Is there a problem?” the nurse in purple pants uniform asked in heavily accented English.
Marcus shook his head. “Everything is fine,” he assured the woman.
The nurse bowed and left, shutting the door behind her, but not before throwing one last look at the bundle of misery sitting on the bed crying his eyes out.
Feeling increasingly uncomfortable, Marcus left the room and took up his post on the other side of the door. He tossed a skeptical look at his partner.
A loud ping sounded down the hall and both men glanced questioningly and guardedly down the hall as the elevator opened. They relaxed noticeably as the tall blond haired writer strode confidently out of the elevator towards them.
Eiri had not taken more than half a dozen steps when he became aware of loud, pitiful wails emanating down the hall. With an annoyed, irritable sigh, he rolled his eyes, closing them briefly and said a silent prayer. Reopening them, he marched down the hall, passing the nurses station on the way. One of them tried to gain his attention, most likely to tell him to please silence Shuichi because he was disturbing the other patients. He ignored her.
“Mr. Uesugi,” Marcus greeted with a curt nod.
“How long has he been like this?” Eiri asked in English with a tired sigh.
“Just a few minutes, Sir.”
He sounded like he had lost his best friend. With another sigh, Eiri pushed open the door and before he could take one step over the threshold a small, black blur barreled towards him, nearly knocking him over. Eiri grabbed onto the door jam trying to stabilize him and to keep from flying backwards. He cursed soundly as the air was squeezed out of him.
Sobbing and shaking, Shuichi latched onto his husband like a koala.
“Damn brat,” Eiri snapped. “What the hell are you doing?”
The trembling ball of snot and never-ending tears and distress wept out an explanation or an excuse of some sort that was completely muffled and censored by his hysterical sobs, none of which Eiri could understand or decipher, but he did not need a translator to understand what his husband was saying. It was the same nonsense he has been spewing for the past month. When he felt Shuichi starting to collapse, Eiri scooped him up bridal style and carried him back to the bed. He cuddled with the pintsized singer, letting him vent. The jest of the whole episode was that Eiri was a bastard for lying and not being here like he promised.
“I promised I'd never let you go, didn't I?”
With his face pressed against Eiri's shirt and his arms hugging him like he was the last solid thing in a sea of water, Shuichi nodded.
“And did I abandon you?” he asked calmly and slowly, like he was talking to a hysterical child.
“You did,” Shuichi accused with a sob. He lifted a tear stained face towards his husband. “But you did!”
Eiri shook his head. “No, I did not,” he stated firmly but softly.
“You did! You did,” Shuichi chanted over and over, pounding his fists against Eiri's chest.
Wrapping his arms around Shuichi, he held him tightly, rocking him and whispering in his ear, trying to calm him down. “I did not abandon you,” he whispered. “I went to speak to Dr. Ohtani after you fell asleep yesterday like I promised you I would and then I had to leave when visitation hours ended.”
That got Shuichi's attention. Silence once again fell onto the hospital room. Shuichi lifted a face red from crying and flooded with tears and glanced at Eiri with hopeful, patient eyes.
Eiri ran a hand through his husband's soft, black hair, noticing for the first time that he needed a haircut. He raked his eyes over his husband as he quietly, but assuredly told him, “I asked him if it would be alright if I took you home.”
Shuichi sat back and watched him intently.
“I told him that no matter what he said, I was going to take you home.”
His patience was starting to wane and he started bouncing up and down on the bed in growing impatience. “Eiri,” he whined. “What did he say?” He grabbed hold of Eiri's shirt, tugging it, searching his face intently. “C'mon! Tell me! Tell me!”
Prying Shuichi's fingers off his shirt, Eiri held his arms at his sides and pecked his nose. “Tonight, you'll be in your own bed,” he whispered. Eiri kissed a trail, starting from Shuichi's lush, pink lips, along his jaw line to his ear. He bit his earlobe gently and suckled it.
Shuichi moaned and tilted his head back to give him better access.
“Where,” Eiri continued his voice low and husky, “I can finally fuck you until you can't move.” He pulled back and noticed Shuichi's face was flushed and his eyes filled with lust. Shuichi's tongue poked out of his mouth and ran along his lips. Eiri followed the movement, feeling his own libido stir to life. He swallowed and cleared his throat, shifting as his pants became way too restrictive. All Eiri wanted to do at that moment was throw his lithe lover down on the bed and fuck him silly, but unfortunately…
Over the loud speaker came a garbles page for a doctor to report to the OR.
To get his mind off of what his other head wanted, Eiri stood up, ignoring his husband's pout and groan of disappointment. He walked around the bed towards the window, but paused mid-stride when a realization hit him. “Shuichi…”
“Hm?”
Eiri turned around and watched his husband settle back onto the bed. “How were you able to walk to the door?”
Shuichi blinked, startled and confused. “Huh?”
“You clobbered me as soon as I entered the room.”
“Oh.” He blushed deeply, turning his head away. “I wanted to go find you and kinda…uh, forgot…”
Eiri studied his husband with a raised eyebrow as his blush deepened into a deep red flush. With a snort, Eiri shook his head. “Baka.”
Shuichi peered at his husband, smiling.
 
***