Gravitation Fan Fiction ❯ Fleeting Inspiration ❯ Headache ( Chapter 9 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Fleeting Inspiration
by Anna Sartin

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Chapter Nine: Headache

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It was ten-thirty when Eiri's attorney arrived, and by that time he was ready to strangle her. He was tired, hungry and his head was killing him. It took another half-hour to get them released, due to a stern talking-to they'd received about their choice of "leisure activities" while being detained. Apparently the sound of their love-making had caused several of the other men jailed there to suddenly decide to explore their homosexual nature. Eiri smirked, wondering if Shuichi's screams of "Oh GOD it's so good!!!" had been what set the chain reaction in motion. The little brat just couldn't keep quiet in bed to save his life. The author grinned with self-satisfaction. He was just that good.

By the time they left the station Eiri was ready to kill (if necessary) for a cigarette. He stopped at a nearby drug store on a mission to relieve his nicotine depravation. Shuichi disappeared immediately upon entering the shop, while Eiri headed straight to front counter where the cigarettes were sold.

"Aren't you going a bit overboard?" Shuichi asked when he returned, eyeing the four cartons Eiri was clutching protectively.

"Shut up."

Shuichi decided not to push the matter and dumped the pile of junk he was carrying on the counter. "See what I found?" he asked, holding up a two-pack of mechanical pencils. "Just like my other one!"

"Good for you. Just don't ask me to fill them." The blonde examined the rest of the crap his boyfriend had dumped on the counter. Pocky, candy, Eiri's preferred brand of headache medicine, lube, a music magazine and... douche?

"Why the hell are you buying douche?" he asked his lover.

The younger man blushed. "For... you know..."

Eiri raised an eyebrow. "What? Did you turn into a woman while I wasn't looking?"

"To keep clean. I don't want to be dirty or smell bad for you when we..."

"Sir? Are you ready to pay?" the clerk asked, saving Shuichi from finishing his embarrassing explanation.

Eiri blinked. Now that he thought about it he'd probably seen empty boxes of that stuff in the bathroom trash at home; he'd just never taken notice of it. He was beginning to think there were a lot of things he never paid attention to. Shuichi, on the other hand, seemed to take note of every detail of his life; like how he'd known which brand of pain reliever Eiri used and had known to buy some even though the writer had never mentioned that he had a headache. The younger man always put so much effort into their relationship and it was actually starting to bother Eiri that he rarely, if ever, made any effort at all.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed to let your man know what you go though to make him happy," the fruity-looking guy behind the counter was telling Shuichi as he rang up his purchases. "They never appreciate what we go through being on the receiving end, do they?" He scanned the box of douche and held it up. "I use a turkey baster for this myself."

"Turkey baster?" Shuichi asked, blinking.

"Yeah, it's good for getting in there deep. You should try it sometime."

"Just hurry up and bag this shit, will you?" Eiri yelled at the man. With all of the stupid things Shuichi ALREADY did on a daily basis, the last thing he needed was some idiot encouraging him to shove a turkey baster up his ass.

"Ready!" Shuichi piped cheerfully as the cashier handed him his change. He grabbed his bag and followed Eiri out the door.

Eiri wondered if on previous occasions some of Shuichi's ridiculous stunts could have been avoided if he'd simply paid more attention and put a stop to them before the situation got out of hand. The incident at the CD store was a perfect example. Since he was just brooding over the fact that he never put any effort into their relationship anyway, perhaps now was a good time to start.

"If I catch you with a turkey baster you'd better be basting a damn turkey with it or I'm throwing your queer ass out a window!"

There. Making an effort felt good. Perhaps he would do so more often. He tore open a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out.

Shuichi took the bottle of painkillers out of his bag and handed them to his grouchy lover. "We need to get you a drink so you can take these."

"How did you know I have a headache?" Eiri asked, fumbling in his pocket for his lighter. Keys... change... pocket knife... Where the hell was it?

"I can tell," Shuichi responded. "Your eyes always have that glazed-over look whenever your head hurts. Plus it's time for your medicine again. I know you never feel good if you miss it."

How did this kid know him so well when he seemed oblivious the rest of the world?

"Where's my fucking lighter?!" he shouted, when he came up empty for the third time. The brat was right, he DID need his medicine. His unstable nervous state was always a sure sign.

"Check your other pocket," Shuichi advised.

Eiri did so, feeling monumentally stupid as he recovered the object he was seeking. He vowed never to go this long without nicotine again as he lit up.

Shuichi watched him for a moment before turning his attention to the bag he was holding. Eiri watched him out of the corner of his eye. The memory of his little lover laying unconscious by the side of the hotel pool two days ago still haunted him. The image was burned into his brain. It held him back when he wanted to hit the boy for doing something moronic, forced him to be gentle in bed, and filled him with an irrational fear that caused him to check and make sure the idiot- his idiot- was safe.

It was also starting to make him question himself. The brat had nearly drowned and he'd only taken notice after the boy had swallowed half the pool. A normal person would have looked up as soon as they'd heard the radio drop, and probably could have retrieved him before his head went underwater. If he hadn't been sitting there with his head up his ass Shuichi would have never had to go to the hospital. What was wrong with him?

"Can we get something to eat?" Shuichi asked, shuffling from one foot to the other as he waited for the blonde to finish smoking his precious cancer-stick. "I'm really hungry..."

"YOU should talk," Eiri scoffed. "I haven't had anything since breakfast."

"I haven't either!"

"You have too."

"Two slices of bread and a Skittle don't count!"

"And I suppose the pocky you're eating now doesn't count either?"

"No, it doesn't!"

"Fine, where do you want to eat?"

"Anywhere with food."

"Sounds good to me."

. . .

In the end they settled on McTeriyaki Burgers from McDonalds, which they could eat in the car on the way back to the hotel. The hungry men devoured their food like they hadn't eaten in weeks and were both finished by the time they reached their destination. It was after midnight when they got back to the hotel, and Eiri looked and felt like a wreck. He'd washed down two capsules of the headache medicine with the soda from McDonald's (damn burger joints, why didn't they ever have any BEER?) but his headache was only getting worse. He nearly drove into a concrete pillar in the parking garage and wound up parking in two spaces.

Let them fine me, I don't give a damn anymore.

"Don't worry, Yuki," Shuichi said soothingly as he put the older man's arm over his shoulders and led him into the hotel. "I'll run and get your medicine as soon as we get in the door."

"Just shut up!" Eiri tried to yell, but his voice only came out hoarse and exhausted. "Your voice is grating..." He leaned on the smaller man tiredly and let himself be guided to the elevator. He felt like little elves were jack hammering inside his brain. The fact that he was seeing double wasn't helping either.

Shuichi obeyed his demand for quiet, and silently steered him up to their room and to the bed. The author collapsed onto it, closing his eyes and trying to will the pain to go away. A minute later he felt gentle hands tugging at him. He opened an eye. Shuichi was standing by the side of the bed with his bag of medicines in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"You should have brought beer," the tired blonde complained, forcing himself to sit up and sort through the bag until he found the right bottles. He downed the pills in one quick gulp and handed the glass back. Shuichi set it down and began helping him undress. "I can do it myself," Eiri grumbled, swatting his hands away. "I don't need your help."

"Yes, you do," Shuichi answered gently. "You're trying to unbutton your zip-up jacket."

He was still wearing a jacket? He hadn't noticed. At least that explained why he couldn't find any buttons. He conceded and let Shuichi help him remove his clothes.

"Don't worry Yuki, I promise I'll take good care of you," Shuichi whispered, after he'd stripped his lover down to his underwear and helped him to lie down. "Just like you always take care of me."

"I don't do a damn thing for you," Eiri snapped, pressing his hands against his throbbing skull. "I'd wonder why you were still with me, but I've finally accepted the fact that you're just too stupid to leave."

"That's not true," Shuichi whispered, covering him with the sheet. He knew Eiri's emotions fluctuated wildly when he missed a dose of the stabilizers his psychiatrist prescribed for him, especially when he was in pain. His partner could go from angry to paranoid to self-loathing in a matter of minutes. On rare occasions he had even broken down in tears, making Shuichi fully grasp the scope of the damage that Yuki Kitazawa's betrayal and violent death had done to his mind. Nobody knew what this man went through, the singer wondered if even Mika and Tohma fully understood the depth of the suffering Eiri hid under his cold exterior.

"Two days ago you saved my life," the singer said softly. "And all yesterday you stayed with me and took care of me. You were nicer to me than you've ever been and it made me so happy."

"If I had pulled you out of the water sooner, you wouldn't have stopped breathing... I should have paid more attention..."

Shuichi shushed him gently, combing his fingers though his hair. He knew Eiri had been crying when he woke up at the hospital that day, but he had never dreamed that the blonde might blame himself for what had happened. You really are a good person. Shuichi thought. I'm going to be here for you for as long as we live, cherishing every beat of your heart, and someday I'm going to figure out how to make you happy.

He hoped that one day his lover wouldn't need all the pills, alcohol, and nicotine he used to get himself through each day. Maybe someday the blonde would smile instead of scowl, and hold "his Shu-chan" close instead of pushing "the brat" away. Maybe there would even come a time when Yuki's laughter would become commonplace instead of a rare occurrence. That was Shuichi's fondest dream, to give his Yuki a normal life free of the emotional and psychological baggage that weighed him down. Someday, even if it took his entire lifetime, he was going to help Yuki get well.

"Aren't you coming to bed?" the blonde inquired. "Or are you just going to stare at me all night?"

Shuichi smiled and kissed his love's aching head before shrugging off his jacket and crawling into bed, not bothering to undress. He curled up against his mate and fell fast asleep.

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~End chapter nine~