This I promise You

Chapter 21: The Stuff Dreams Are Made Of

He had been reluctant, to say the least, to talk with a psychiatrist. The only reason he went was because of Eiri. He figured that if his husband had been able to suck up his pride to let some chick delve into his brain, the least he could do was hear what the woman had to say.

At first, Shuichi had been embarrassed and intimidated to admit how he felt about what happened with Yasashii Rinjin. It had been too fresh in his mind, too private, but then little by little, bit by bit, he started to open up to her. Surprisingly, he started feeling better for it. Even those who came to visit him in the hospital commented on how much different he seemed to be after his sessions with the counselor. But those giddy feelings, the elation and feelings of accomplishment were chased away by the shadows that continued to linger in the farthest corners of his mind once sleep overcame him. All his fears and insecurities circled like vultures finding a fresh kill. They rose in ranks when his husband was not around either. He could not explain it. It was as automatic as breathing. Dr. Hikari tried to work with him on this, but nothing she did seemed to alleviate them, only made them worse, but after returning to where his life had taken a dramatic change, things started to change. He had confronted that which scared him the most head on and won.

It seemed Eiri was right about that strange dream he had his first night home. Whether it had actually been a dream or real, the fact of the matter was, he had not had a nightmare since. Eiri did not question it. He was just glad to have been able to catch up on some much needed rest.

Dr. Hikari had been pleased, as well as little leery, with his sudden miraculous recovery, but once she received confirmation from Eiri that Shuichi was not just saying what Dr. Hikari wanted to hear and learned what had happened to cause such a change, she was forced to admit the recovery was genuine and decided to meet with the singer once a month instead of once a week for a while and see how things go from there. Three appointments later, she suggested moving the appointments to every other month.

Shuichi started physical therapy sessions as soon as he woke from his coma, but for four weeks it seemed as if it was all for naught. Then his right leg actually moved. Determined to be able to walk, Shuichi demanded that his sessions be increased. On the days he could not go to the rehabilitation center, he went to the gym. His sessions had always been exhausting, but now they completely drained him, so much so that he collapsed in bed and did not rise until morning. Eiri did not like that Shuichi was pushing himself so hard, but Shuichi was determined. He did not care what he had to do, how hard or far he had to push himself. He wanted out of that damn chair. He wanted to be able to walk up those stairs to bed on his own. He wanted to be able to take a shower and stand under that hot spray on his own. And his persistence soon paid off. Two months after he was released from the hospital, his bum leg, the limb that had refused to do much of anything but lag behind him, actually moved. It moved! It may have been only the itsy-ist increment, but it had moved nonetheless!

And now, a month later, he was no longer confined and restricted to that damn chair. He no longer had to depend on his husband in order to get up and down the stairs in their apartment. No, he was able to walk on his own two feet. It was not perfect and he was far from back to normal, but he was finally free from his dependency. He could remember feeling this great only once before and that had been on the day he married his husband.

But not everything was looking up.

Now that Shuichi had pushed his relentless rehabilitation schedule back to two or three times a week, not even that some times, Eiri thought that his lithe husband would not be as tired all the time, but his fatigue remained a constant. He has even been throwing up and he did not seem to have much of an appetite either. Eiri was seriously worried about Shuichi, but the singer refused to see a doctor. He figured it was just the flu, or something, and it would just pass, but Eiri was not so sure.

*

Silently, he crept up the carpeted steps, a thin, long white box tucked neatly under his left arm. At the top of the staircase, he quietly walked to the master bedroom. Shifting the box to his right arm, he noiselessly opened the door and stepped into the twilight strewn room, closing the door behind him. He tiptoed across the room, knowing his way even in the dark, to the large bed. Setting the box against the nightstand, he sat on the edge of the bed next to the curled up lump under the blankets.

The man started chuckling when he pulled down the sheets to reveal a head of short black hair sticking on end as if the man had stuck a finger in a light socket.

“Shu. Shuichi.” He placed a chaste kiss on the singer’s bare shoulder. “Shu-han wake up.”

The singer groaned and flipped onto his back. With a yawn, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and stretched. Violet eyes fluttered open with a sigh, trying to focus on the man smiling down at him.

Shuichi smiled sleepily. “Hmm. ‘Morning, Eiri. What time is it?”

“After ten.”

“Hmm.” Shuichi yawned again.

Eiri studied his husband’s drawn face. “Tired?”

“Hm, yeah.” Pushing himself up, Shuichi leaned against the headboard and yawned yet again, rubbing his eyes. When he opened his eyes he was staring at a long, white shinny box with a red ribbon wrapped around it and a matching bow. He blinked in surprise, tucking the one remaining long strand of hair that draped across his right eye behind his ear. “What’s this?”

“A present, Baka.”

Shuichi sat up and took the box with a huge smile, his eyes sparkling, not quite chasing away the shadows of weariness. “For me? What is it,” he asked enthusiastically.

“Open it and find out.”

Grinning like madman, Shuichi ripped off the bow and slid the ribbon off. Both ended up in a pile at his feet. Shuichi ripped the flimsy top nearly in two in his quest to open his present. He could not understand why the lid would not come off. Eiri sighed in disbelief and snatched the box from him, prying off the tape like his husband was eight instead of twenty-eight. Feeling foolish and blushing brightly, Shuichi took back the box and lifted the lid. His humiliation was soon a thing of the past as he searched among the bazillion pieces of pink tissue paper and discovered a strange metal object at the bottom. Confused, Shuichi lifted it out and set the box aside. He gasped when he realized what it was.

“Eiri,” he breathed in awe.

It was a cane, but not like the plain generic grey one he was using. He got a very strong feeling of déjà vu as he realized it was exactly like the one from his dream, but how was that possible? He never told Eiri about his dream. Yes, he told the writer when he was given that ugly shepherd staff-like cane that it would be cool if they came in pink or something, but that had been the extent of it.

The cane was pink lacquer with a round silver metallic bulb on top etched with a variety of shapes and images. The bottom of the cane had a similar silver cone that had been deprived of its sharp tip in exchange for a black rubber pad.

“Oh, Eiri. It’s beautiful!” Shuichi leaned over and kissed his husband. “I love it.”

Distantly they heard the apartment echo with the sudden ringing of the phone in the kitchen right below them. Moments later, the extension in their room shrilled to life. “Good,” Eiri said over his shoulder as he walked around the bed to the phone. “If you love it so much, why don’t you use it to go hop in the shower. We have a lunch date with your parents remember?”

“Really? Was that today?”

“Yes it is.”

“Are you sure?”

Eiri rolled his eyes as he picked up the phone. “Yes, now go take a shower.” He held up the phone to his ear and said casually, “Moshi moshi.” He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “If you call and ask me that one more time, I swear you’ll never get it.”

Shuichi threw aside the covers and dragged himself out of bed as Eiri discussed why his latest manuscript was late. He had no idea why Mizuki-san even bothered anymore. She should know by now that Eiri rarely, if ever, turned in anything on time.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eiri frowned after his husband as he hauled himself out of the room and to the bathroom. Shuichi looked like the walking dead. What was wrong with him? There was no reason for him to be so exhausted.


After he assured his editor that she would have his next “masterpiece” in hand by this time tomorrow, Eiri followed the sounds of the shower. Without making a sound, the writer stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. Stripping, he silently pulled the curtain aside and stepped into the tub behind his husband.

Shuichi was standing under the spray, his hands on the wall, his head bowed and his eyes closed. The singer did not make any indication he heard Eiri. When Shuichi felt large hands creep around his waist, his eyes snapped open. He jumped, startled, with a yelp. He heard Eiri’s deep chuckling as kisses were planted on his shoulder.

“Dammit, Eiri,” he snapped. He breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart. “You scared the shit…Ah!” He gasped sharply, cutting himself off, then groaned deeply as a large hand grabbed the base of him, squeezing. A shudder raced through him. Shuichi tipped his head back and arched into the tantalizing touch. “Mmm,” he moaned. “Ahh! Ohhh, Eiri!”

Eiri nibbled at Shuichi’s neck, one hand creeping up his husband’s chest to play with the singer’s nipples. Shuichi wrapped one arm around his husband’s neck while the other cupped the hand that was stroking his stiff cock. He dropped his head down, groans and gasps emanating from his open mouth. He felt the pressure building within him. His muscles tensed and with a final cry, his head snapped back and he let it go. Panting, Shuichi sagged in his husband’s arms, his legs feeling rubbery. He licked his lips and languished in the afterglow, closing his unfocused eyes.

“Here,” Eiri told him, leaning him up against the wall. “Stay here a second.”

Eiri grabbed the body soap from the corner shelving unit and squeezed some into his hand then replaced the bottle. He slicked the soap onto his rigid member, sudsying his cock with makeshift lube. Grabbing his baka’s hips, he pulled the singer towards him and placed his cock at his entrance. Shuichi gasped. He felt his arousal flare instantly back to life. Eiri slid inside easily, making his husband moan as his sensitized body felt every millimeter. Once Eiri was sheathed completely inside, he exhaled the breath he had been holding and just enjoyed the feeling of having his husband surround him.

“You’re lucky you feel so damn good,” Shuichi said in a voice that did not sound like his own.

“Oh,” Eiri asked calmly as he slid agonizingly slow out of his husband.

Shuichi huffed, his hands clawing at the slick walls. “Yeah,” he breathed. “That way…I can ignore how gross it feels…when you use soap.”

Eiri chuckled. “I could stop,” he teased, doing just that.

“Don’t you dare,” Shuichi growled.

“Then tell me how you want it,” the writer whispered huskily in Shuichi’s ear.

Shuichi shivered. “Hard,” he whispered. “Fast. Fuck me into the wall.”

“Your wish is my command.”

The bathroom was filled with the harsh thwap’s of flesh on flesh as Eiri slammed into Shuichi with everything he had, ripping a scream from the singer. He tore out and thrust back in, over and over. Eiri grunted, his balls whacking against his husbands buttocks. His fingers dug into his hips, leaving imprints.

Shuichi felt the pressure building as the large intruder rammed inside of him from between his legs with such force he was sure something was going to tear before either one of them climaxed, but he did not care. He loved the feeling of his husband.

Suddenly the pressure became too much and he exploded. He cried out loudly, spasming against the tiled wall. His seed coated the wall once again. Eiri echoed him, thrusting his hips into Shuichi’s butt half a dozen more times and releasing his seed where it belonged.

Panting, Eiri pulled out and spun an equally winded Shuichi around. Picking him up, he captured his lips, walking them into the wall. Shuichi wrapped his rubbery legs around his husband’s waist as their tongues wrestled. Eiri squeezed Shuichi’s buttocks, massaging them as he tried to swallow the singer. Groaning, Shuichi tore his mouth away and ground his fastly recovering erection into the writers, crying out as a jolt of pleasure rippled through him. Eiri held Shuichi tightly against him, panting, resting his forehead against Shuichi’s shoulder.

“Eiri,” Shuichi breathed. Before Eiri could answer, they heard the distant trill of the phone. Groaning, Shuichi dropped his legs, losing steam.

Cursing, Eiri set Shuichi down and flung aside the curtain, nearly tearing it down. Grabbing his towel from the niche, he wrapped it around his torso and still muttering oaths under his breath, stormed out of the bathroom.

Shuichi chuckled, but admired the view of his husband’s backside.

Suddenly, his laughter choked to a halt. His eyes wide, he flung a hand over his mouth and stumbled out of the tub. Scampering to the toilet, he flung open the lid and collapsed to his knees just in time.

Eiri heard the sound of wrenching all the way down the hell in the bathroom and cursed. “I have to go, Mother,” he said to Shuichi’s mother. “It sounds like Shuichi’s sick.” He flung the phone away from his ear and flinched as a cry screamed from the earpiece. “I’m sure he’s fine. It’s probably just something he ate. I think there’s a bug going around,” he tried to calm the suddenly hysterical woman down. “…Yes, I’ll make sure he gets plenty of rest…Yes, Mother…I’ll see how he’s feeling and call you back about lunch…Alright…Goodbye.” Sighing in relief, Eiri replaced the receiver and thanked Buddha that she was just an in-law. If Mrs. Shindou would have been his mother, he would have killed himself years ago.

He strode into the bathroom and saw his husband collapsed over the toilet.

“Again?”

Shuichi groaned.

Eiri took that as a yes. Flushing the toilet, he grabbed the damp rag from the side of the sink and gave it to the pale man. While Shuichi wiped himself off, Eiri shut off the shower. Silence erupted around them. He took the rag and tossed it into the laundry basket, then helping him to his feet, wrapped the singer in an oversized beach towel. “Brush your teeth,” he ordered. “I’m going to call the doctor.”

Knowing it was pointless to argue, Shuichi only nodded.

In their bedroom, Eiri placed a call to Shuichi’s doctor, Dr. Ohtani. The man answered immediately. When Eiri told him what was going on, the doctor said nothing. He was silent for so long that Eiri was not sure if the man was still there. “Dr. Ohtani?”

“Hm. I’m going to refer you to a Dr. Amano.”

Eiri wrote the name down on the pad that was always kept next to the phone. “Dr. Amano?”

“Yes, Dr. Sanae Amano. She’s an OB here at the hospital. I’ll give her a call and see if she can squeeze Shindou-san in. She’s very busy woman and very hard to get in to see, but I trust her implacably. I’ll call you right back.”

Trusting Dr. Ohtani knew what he was doing; Eiri thanked the man and hung up just as Shuichi limped slowly into the bedroom. He watched as the singer, his new cane in hand, trudged over to the bed and collapse into it. He flung the covers over his head and shut his eyes. Eiri sighed. Pushing away from the dresser, he walked across the room and laid next to his husband, spooning him from behind. “How’re you feeling, Shu-han?”

Shuichi grunted from under the blankets.

“Dr. Ohtani wants you to go see some OB.”

“A what?”

“An OB. Obstetrician.”

Shuichi peeked purple eyes out of the blankets and stared at him blankly. “Nani?”

Eiri rolled his eyes. “Obstetricians deal with all…that…child…birth….” His eyes widened in understanding. He shot a stunned gaze at his equally shocked husband. Was it possible? Could he be…? Their gaze centered on the singer’s belly. Shuichi’s hand fluttered to his stomach.

“Eiri, you don’t think-“

The rest of what he was going to say was interrupted by the ringing of the phone. The men exchanged a look. Eiri got up to answer the phone. “Moshi moshi.”

“Uesugi-san? I called Dr. Amano and she’s able to see Shindou-san. She can squeeze you in at one, actually.”

“Today?” Eiri glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It was just about eleven now. They would not have enough time to go to the café and have lunch with Shuichi’s parents and then get to the hospital in time for the appointment.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“Good. I told her about Shindou’s…condition,” he said for lack of a better term, “and trust her implacably so don’t worry. I’ll fax over Shindou-san’s file now.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.”

Eiri hung up the phone, sighing. He then called Shuichi’s parents and apologized to them for they would not be able to have lunch with them that day but rescheduled for this same time next week. By the time he was able to pry himself away from the phone, Shuichi had fallen into one of his dead-like sleeps, still in his towel. Chuckling, Eiri pulled the blanket back around him and kissed him lightly before tiptoeing down to the study. Might as well get some work done before they had to leave for Shuichi’s appointment.


Eiri glanced up at the time at the bottom of his computer screen and noticed it was already past twelve-thirty. Cursing, he saved his work and shut down his computer. He strode through the house and took the stairs to the master bedroom two at a time. He flung open the door. “Shu…” he called. He blinked in surprise. “Oh, you’re up. Good. Hurry up and get dressed otherwise we’re going to be-“

Shuichi gave a frustrated sigh and flopped back onto the bed, bouncing lightly.

“What’s your problem now?”

Tears filled the singer’s violet eyes. Shuichi covered his face with his hands and started crying. “They won’t fit,” he cried between snuffles.

Eiri sighed and walked over to the closet. They went through this almost every single day. For the past four weeks, the baka had not been able to fit into any of his pants other than his sweats or other ones with the elastic waist. Frankly, Eiri did not care. It was about time Shuichi got some meat on those bones. Besides, it just made him look even sexier and Eiri wanted him more now than he ever had in the ten years they have known each other, but Shuichi got upset when he was reminded that none of his pants fit. To him, he was getting fat and he hated it. Fat? Please! So he weighed one-hundred and five pounds instead of eighty. Big deal, but now that Dr. Ohtani wanted them to see an OB, was it possible…

Rooting among the various leather, vinyl and lace outfits- he used the term loosely- he found a pair of black stretch pants. They were supposed to be woman’s, but Shuichi had liked them and they strangely enough, made the guy look pretty damn hot.

“Here. Put these on until we can go shopping.” He tossed his husband the pants, which ended up landing on his head.

Shuichi pulled the pants off his head and sat up with a pout. “But I don’t want to wear these! I want-“

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you want,” Eiri snapped. “Put the fucking pants on or we’re going to be late for your doctor’s appointment!” When Shuichi continued to sulk, Eiri growled and rounded the bed where he ripped off the jeans that were now a size too small. Shuichi yelped through his hiccup sobs. Eiri ignored him and took the black pants from his husband’s stunned hands. He slid Shuichi’s feet into the pant legs. “Pull them up,” he ordered, “and put your shirt on.” As Shuichi went to obey him, Eiri grabbed the comb off the dresser and stood behind his husband, combing his hair.

Shuichi had finally gone and gotten his hair cut the other week. It looked a bit uneven. The right side had been loped off at chin length and dyed purple while the rest of his hair was short and black. Eiri had to admit, the cut was a bit odd. It was going to take a little getting used to.

“I did some research while you were sleeping,” Eiri told his husband as Shuichi finished buttoning his shirt.

“On what?”

“Well, on weight gain.”

Shuichi pouted as he was once again reminded of the ten pounds he had gained since he was released from the hospital. He hated to be reminded of the fact that he was getting fat.

“Combined with the fatigue and nausea…It’s possible that you are pregnant.”

“I hope so,” Shuichi whispered, blushing, as he laid his hands on his belly and turned around to face his husband. “But what does that have to do with weight gain? If I am pregnant, then I can’t be more than twelve weeks, right? It’s a little early to be showing.”

Eiri shook his head. “Not necessarily.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, if it’s a multiple birth you would be starting to show about now.”

Shuichi could only stare at the blond man blankly. Multiple birth? As in more than one? As in two or more lives growing inside of him? Dear, Kami-sama. He being a guy and able to give the love of his life children was miraculous in of itself but to give him more than one and at the same time?

With a sob, he smiled up at Eiri through tear blurred eyes. This was stuff dreams were made of. In their case, a dream come true.


Four hours later, Shuichi and Eiri were sitting in the back of their Jeep Tahoe heading home from the doctor’s. Marcus was sitting in the front seat besides the driver while Blade had been given the night shift. Both Eiri and Shuichi felt it was a little excessive to have both bodyguards on at the same time.

“How long will it take to get the results back you think,” Shuichi yawned.

Eiri shrugged. “A few days.”

Shuichi nodded. He really did not need to know the official results. Just having the mere possibility that what was wrong with him was not the flu, but in actual fact a baby was all he needed. The severe morning sickness, increased fatigue, the weight gain…It all made sense now that he thought about it.

With a smile on his face, he rested against Eiri.

Using the Shindou-Uesugi keycard, the driver pulled the jeep into the underground parking garage and parked in front of the elevators. Marcus jumped out and held the door open for Shuichi and Eiri, keeping his keen eyes open. As the three of them trooped into the elevator, Marcus taking up his usual spot just inside the door, their driver vanished.

“Do you really think I could be pregnant, Eiri?”

“It’s possible.”

Shuichi tightened his hold on his husbands arm. “I hope I am. I would love to have a baby with you.”

Eiri smirked. So would he. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” He held Shuichi’s hand that held onto his arm. “If it turns out you’re not than we’ll just have to keep trying, huh?”

A huge smile flashed across Shuichi’s face. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

After the hell Shuichi has been through these last seven months, he was glad to finally be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.