When the Christmas Lights Aren't Bright Enough - Part Two
Title: When the Christmas Lights Aren’t Bright Enough
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairings: Eiri x Shuichi, Hiro x Ayaka, Riku x OC, Yuji x Suguru
Rating: Ranging between PG-13 and R
Disclaimer: Gravitation and its characters do not belong to me.
Part Two-
It was a normal day at the airport for the Nakano family.
“Help! Help! That man stole my purse!”
The triumphant laughter of the mean and greasy-haired robbed drowned out the cries of the poor old lady and the surprised gasps of the bystanders who did nothing but stand. And gasp in surprise.
But the Nakano children could not stand by and watch such an unforgivable crime unfold before their eyes. They were not raised in that way. As soon as the robber neared them, they sprang into action. With a loud battle cry, Taichi shot his leg out, tripping the robber and causing him to fall flat on his stomach with a pained, “Oof!” Souta lunged at the robber and sunk his perfect baby teeth into his leg, distracting him from trying to move and making him howl horribly. And Hanako brought her heel down hard on the robber’s back, firmly and effectively preventing him from getting up.
By the time the security guards reached them, the robber was sobbing from guilt and denouncing his evil ways, declaring he would become a preacher.
The old lady, overcome with gratitude, offered each of the Nakano children money, but they politely refused, assuring her that the smile of happiness on her face was all the reward they needed.
When Hiro and Ayaka returned from checking the luggage and getting plane tickets, they found their children being interviewed by news reporters. They beamed proudly, their hearts swelling with the joy of having such lovely, law-abiding, perfect children.
-
Riku hated his purple mohawk. He could feel the eyes of the man behind the counter of the airport gift shop, boring holes in his back. He groaned inwardly and thought, This is L.A. Get over it. He glanced over the rack of Los Angeles postcards for the tenth time, although he’d already picked out the one for his roommate-gentle waves of the ocean against a golden sunset, two young women in bikinis lounging on the beach and laughing with their eyes crinkled cutely, grains of sand stuck to their tanned thighs. Glancing at his wristwatch, Riku confirmed his suspicions. Dad-Shuichi was forty-five minutes late. He hesitated to call Dad-Eiri, because he knew the writer would use it as fodder for future arguments. But Dad-Shuichi’s cell phone had gone straight to voicemail and he really didn’t want to pay for a cab. With a sigh of resignation, Riku purchased the postcard and stepped outside of the shop to make a call on his cell phone.
“Hey! You’ve reached Shuichi Shindou’s voicemail-lucky! Sorry I can’t take your call right now, but if you leave me a message, I’ll get back t-”
Hanging up, Eiri scowled at the phone and dialed the number of Shuichi’s recording studio. He knew he should’ve insisted on picking Riku up himself, but-contrary to popular belief-he didn’t enjoy his and Shuichi’s fights and hadn’t wanted to drag it out any further.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Uesugi,” said the soft-voiced lady at the front desk, “but Mr. Shindou hasn’t been in the building since this morning. Would you like for me to try his cell phone?”
Somehow, despite the heavy, lead-like feeling weighing down on his heart, Eiri managed to tell her not to bother, and slammed the phone down on the receiver. Damn, but how he hated Shuichi at that moment. A rotten, cheating, lying brat, he was.
Fuming, Eiri turned on the television, searching from something lame and mind-numbing to distract him. What he found, however, was a news program highlighting an occurrence that happened in a Japanese airport where three children stopped a robber from stealing a woman’s purse.
“They’re just perfect angels!” The old woman was gushing and the three children smiled in the background.
Eiri knew those alarmingly bright teeth anywhere. Thinking about how disgustingly happy the Nakano family was only added fuel to the fire simmering inside him and, growling lowly in frustration and fury, Eiri stalked into Riku’s old room and to look for a baseball bat.
When, close to an hour later, Shuichi and Riku arrived, the singer was surprised to see that all the Christmas decorations were up, and even more surprised to see that the television looked like a murder victim.
“Eiri…?”
Ignoring him, Eiri regarded Riku with a raised eyebrow of thinly disguised disapproval.
“What happened to your hair?”
Riku reached up and touched it timidly, as if just now realizing it was there. He swallowed, shrugged, and held his arms out. Eiri rolled his eyes, still unaccustomed to gestures of affection towards the younger boy, but allowed a one-arm embrace, anyway. Riku smiled and Eiri let go as Shuichi approached them, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance playing across his face.
“Eiri, what did you do to the TV?”
“Nothing,” the writer snapped, sending an irritated glare the singer’s way.
“Nothing?”
“That’s right.”
“…Then how did it break?”
“It spontaneously combusted.”
“…”
“What? TV’s bad for your brain.”
“What the hell-”
You can buy a new one, though,” Riku interjected softly. “Can’t you?”
“Yes,” Shuichi said presently, dropping the subject for the time being and clearing his throat. “Here, let me take your bag.”
“That’s okay,” Riku said, picking up his bag and stepping from between them. “It’ll be nice to be in my room again.” He paused, and looked back at them over his shoulder. “Hey, look.”
Blinking in unison, Eiri and Shuichi looked up to find that they were standing underneath a sprig of mistletoe. Their eyes met, Shuichi’s breath hitched, and Riku felt like he was watching two teenagers on a very awkward first date. For a moment, neither of them moved, until Eiri’s gaze dropped to the floor; he muttered something about starting dinner and hastily left the room. Something that sounded suspiciously like a wistful sigh escaped Shuichi’s lips, and Riku chose that moment to go to his room and unpack.
-
The Nakano family was enjoying a pleasant flight on the airplane to Los Angeles.
The children were sitting across from a man who was horribly afraid of flying, and he got so upset that Taichi and Souta moved to sit beside him. Taichi helped him through several soothing breathing exercises and Souta gave the palms of his hands a relaxing massage.
And at one point during the flight, when there was a bit of turbulence, one of the attendants hit her head and fell out. Hiro jumped to his feet and rushed to her aid and, because he was such a great doctor, she survived with nothing more than a tiny bump (And, a few days later, she would find that the genital herpes she’d been diagnosed with once before was permanently cured). While she was resting, Ayaka and Hanako took over her refreshment cart and did a wonderful (perfect) job serving the many grateful passengers.
“This is better than an in-flight movie,” one woman remarked to her husband, who nodded in agreement.
-
Riku hadn’t told his fathers that he wasn’t gay. He’d never tried to figure out what exactly was holding him back; he just hadn’t been too terribly interested in dating anyone until late in high school. By that time, his fathers had probably assumed he was either gay or asexual.
But he figured he should probably tell them before his girlfriend arrived.
His roommate was the only one who knew about his girlfriend. The romance was serious enough, but it was mostly built on e-mails and text messages. Even so, he was ninety percent sure she was the one. Well, eighty-two percent, really. Perhaps he should check.
“Dad-Eiri,” Riku started over dinner, “how did you know Dad-Shuichi was the one?”
He was only slightly alarmed when they both started to choke on their food.
“The one?” Eiri coughed. “The one what?”
Shuichi kicked him under the table and Eiri kicked back harder. Riku sighed.
“Nevermind.”
Shuichi, delivering a second kick and then quickly tucking his legs under his chair, looked at Riku attentively.
“Why do you ask, honey?”
“Just curious,” Riku shrugged, unable to keep from casting an expectant glance the writer’s way.
“Well,” Eiri drew the word out, stalling. “It wasn’t as if I had much of a choice. He wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Shuichi glared at him, but didn’t bother denying it. Fighting the urge to snarl, “That was back when I liked you and you had hair,” he forced a smile for Riku.
“Eiri doesn’t take things like that seriously, so you shouldn’t ask him questions you want an honest answer to.”
“Oh.” After a thoughtful pause, he asked, “How did you know?”
Shuichi suddenly became very interested in his dinner plate.
-
Around two in the morning, Suguru and Yuji arrived at their Los Vegas hotel; Suguru tired-traveling exhausted him-and slightly ragged-looking, Yuji upbeat as always.
“Thank you for the assistance, my good sir,” Yuji said to the bellhop, slipping him a few green bills. “Don’t spend it all in one place!” He closed the door and grinned fetchingly at his companion as he offered, “So, you wanna fool around?”
Suguru shot him a rather ugly look and Yuji laughed good-naturedly. He watched as Suguru shuffled into the bathroom to brush his teeth; he shed his clothes, humming a jovial tune he’d heard his lover play at one concert or another. He’d always been a night-owl, although Suguru most definitely was not. Actually, Suguru was most definitely not a lot of things that Yuji was, but somehow, they’d managed all the same. Yuji wasn’t one to use the word “love” lightly, but after eleven years, he wasn’t sure what else to call this cozy little thing he and the pianist had. Whatever it was, he thought fondly as Suguru trudged sleepily back into the room, it sure was nice.
“Oh,” Suguru groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Don’t stare at me. I’m too tired for that.” He collapsed-albeit gracefully-onto the bed and Yuji hopped onto it beside him. Suguru’s eyes were closed, but the corners of his mouth still quirked upwards a bit when Yuji grinned lopsidedly at him. “Such a dope…”
Yuji sidled closer to slip an arm around Suguru; the pianist was too tired to protest.
“‘Good night, goodnight’,” Yuji whispered, “‘Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I shall say goodnight ‘till it be ‘morrow,’” He finished, smiling gently when he realized the other man was already asleep.