On the Street of Dreams

Chapter summary: “I don’t think of you as a freak, Shuichi,” Eiri whispered in the boy’s ear. He smirked when Shuichi shivered. He squeezed the boy’s thigh again, stroking it. “Let me show you. Let’s show your dad what an asshole he is, how wrong he is. That you are...loved.”

***

The Angelic Face


Eiri had gone straight to his apartment after the Battle of the Bands, intending to go right to bed, but he spent an hour tossing and turning before giving up on sleep. Throwing on a pair of pants and a shirt he found on the floor and decided to go for a walk, thinking it would help clear his head. He soon found himself strolling through the park.

He had a meeting with his editor and agent, Kanna Mizuki, in the morning to submit his latest novel and try to reschedule some interview she set up- without his knowledge- because he had other plans that night. His father had planned some stupid dinner with the whole family. Eiri had a funny feeling that his dear old dad had something up his kimono sleeve. He was thinking about skipping dinner for the television interview.

Eiri blinked, taken back by his own thoughts. Was he willingly thinking about doing some lame interview? Wow. What has the world come to?

With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, he huddled against the breeze blowing off the river. He was about to reach for his pack of cigarettes when he spotted a tiny figure huddled on a bench up ahead. Normally, he would have just ignored the vagrant and moved on, but for some reason he found himself being drawn to this person like a magnet. As he crept closer, he realized it was a kid.

What was a kid doing sleeping out in the park in the middle of the night?

He took in the small lithe frame, the familiar clothing and the cowboy hat and Eiri’s eyes widened. Could it be…? His pulse started racing. Standing besides the bench, he picked up the cowboy hat, his hands shaking in anticipation and gasped.

*

The phone continued to ring as Ryuichi’s irritation grew into concern. “C’mon,” he whispered as he paced the bedroom restlessly.

The figure on the bed stirred. A hand reached out from under the covers and patted the empty mattress. With a sigh, the pillow covering his head was thrown aside to reveal a head of black hair. Flipping over, he displayed himself unconsciously, watching his lover walk from the closet to the bedroom door and back again, his silk bathrobe flying out around him.

“Ryu, honey, come back to bed.”

Ryuichi shook his head. “In a minute, Tatsuha.”

Tatsuha Uesugi sighed. “Who’re you calling?” He checked the clock on the beside table. “It’s after midnight.”

“Shu.” Groaning, he flipped his phone closed and bit his lip. “He isn’t answering.”

“So?”

“‘So’?” Ryuichi walked back to the bed and slumped down on the edge of the mattress, staring at the silver palm-sized cell phone in his hand. Where was he? What was he doing that he could not pick up his phone? “Tat-“

“Ryu, didn’t you tell me his band won that battle tonight?” At his boyfriends nod, he said, “Well, then. He’s probably out partying or something.”

“But-“

“Or, maybe he forgot to turn his phone back on after the concert. I do that all the time! Besides, you’ll see him in the morning.”

“But, Tatsu-“

The slightly younger man growled and pulled his lover down, straddling him and pinning all in a matter of an eye blink. “Stop worrying about Shu, alright? He’s a big boy and can take care of himself. Alright? Don’t worry so much.”

Ryuichi sighed in defeat. He had not seen his baby brother in more than six months, what was one more day?

Tatsuha, knowing a win when he saw it, laced their fingers together and rolled his hips with practiced ease, rubbing their groins together. Tatsuha bit back a groan as Ryuichi, arched off the bed and tossed his head back with a loud cry. Tatsuha licked his lips and whispered in Ryuichi’s ear, “You know, you’re going to have to be punished for waking me up in the middle of the night.”

Ryuichi licked his dry lips and stared into those dark eyes, becoming lost within them. “Whatever you want, Tatsuha. Whatever you want.”

*

The angelic face mere inches from his rendered Eiri speechless. He was unable to form a coherent thought. Even if he could, he would not be able to express that thought over his rapidly beating heart. All he could do was stare at the face that launched a thousand ships and a body that would haunt even a straight mans dreams.

Shuichi’s violet eyes fluttered open. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a face staring down at him. Swallowing a scream, he jumped to his feet, hitting his head against the guy’s chin in the process. He hissed and rubbed his head. Turning around to apologize, he saw his hat clutched in the man’s hand. He reached out and yanked it back tentatively, his eyes never leaving the strangers face. “W-who’re you? What do you want?”

“How about apologizing for smacking me in the face, first?” Eiri retorted, rubbing his sore chin, snapping out of his retrieve.

The teen opened his mouth automatically to do just that, but realized he had no reason to. “If you hadn’t of had your face in mine, I wouldn’t of knocked into you!”

Eiri glared at the kid. He was right, but the hell he was going to apologize. He tried to ignore the rapid beating of his heart, and the quickness of his breath. He tried to pay no attention to the sweet strawberry scent that wafted from the boy. “Fine,” he finally said. He plopped himself down on the bench where just moments ago, his secret crush had been sleeping. It was still warm. “Tell me why a sixteen-year-old is sleeping on a park bench.”

Shuichi placed his hat on his head and crossed his arms, looking this guy up and down. “What does it matter to you?” He blinked, realizing what he just said. “Wait. How did you know I was sixteen?” he asked suspiciously.

Eiri silently cursed himself. Idiot, he thought. “Lucky guess,” was what came out of his mouth, sounding bored. What the hell was wrong with him? Here he was, chatting it up with his crush. Here was his chance to tell the kid how he felt. Maybe they could go get a drink together or something, but no! He had to act as if he did not give a good goddamn. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the kid checking him out. A smug smile tilted the corner of his mouth and a slight blush tinted his face. He thanked the Maker for the fact that it was dark outside.

Who was this guy and what the hell does he want, Shuichi asked himself. Whoever this guy was, he was definitely older than he was, in his twenties at least. He had a day’s growth of stubble on his face that gave him that rugged look. The guy was taller by a foot, but then again, who wasn’t? Light yellow-brown eyes twitched slightly as they stared out over the water. It was almost as if he was fighting not to look at him. A shock of yellow blond hair tumbled out from under a white hat that seemed to glow in the lamp light. He was wearing a rumbled white suit and a black shirt that matched the ribbon on the hat. Shuichi had to admit, the guy looked damned hot.

Eiri was beginning to feel self-consciousness with the kid staring at him like that. Clearing his throat, he leaned his head against the back of the bench and stretched his arms out, crossing his ankles before him.

Shuichi continued to study the stranger. There was something about him that he could not quite put a finger on. It felt as if he knew this guy from somewhere. He looked awfully familiar. Maybe it was because he was drop dead gorgeous and sexy. The singer took a shaky breath and slowly exhaled. His heart was suddenly racing and his mouth was dry. Licking his lips, he stared into those intense golden hazel eyes that turned to stare at him. Shuichi gulped audibly.

“What?” Eiri demanded.

“I, uh...Do I know you?”

Eiri raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Are you trying to pick me up?”

A warm blush colored Shuichi’s face. Biting his lip to keep his smile hidden, the teen turned his reddened face away. “No,” he whispered with a simple shake of his head.

Eiri did not believe him as far as he could throw him.

“I, uh...It’s just that...you look familiar.” His blush deepened.

Eiri’s eyes widened in shock. His heart skipped a beat. Had Shuichi realized that for the past year, he had been at every single one of his shows? That that albino looking guy at the bar was him? Please, God, I hope not. The last thing Eiri needed was to die of embarrassment. He would never admit doing such a thing. But how else could this kid think he had seen him somewhere before? If Shuichi knew his brother than that would be one answer, but that was impossible. So, what...

“I’m a writer,” he blurted out. Yeah, that could work. He was always on television and in the newspaper and magazines and such.

Shuichi straightened. “Really?” He sat down besides the man, a sparkle in his eyes. “So am I,” he confessed in excitement.

“Really,” he asked in disbelief. “What could a sixteen-year-old write?”

“Songs! I’m a singer and I write all the songs for my band,” he said, bouncing up and down on the bench.

Eiri blinked at that revelation. That surprised him. Shuichi wrote them all? Wow. He had to admit, the kid was good. It was not easy to write songs. Anyone could put down a bunch of words on a piece of paper and call it a song, or poem, or whatever, but it took real talent to make those words into something special and it was obvious this kid had that natural ability. “You write those songs?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he mentally cursed himself.

Shuichi blinked. “Have you been to one of my concerts?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

The writer turned to look at the kid and found his heart melting. Before he could stop himself, he found himself telling him the truth. “A few.”

“Really?” Shuichi’s face brightened. “What did ya think?”

Eiri shrugged. “Not bad, for a bunch of bratty kids.”

The smile slipped off Shuichi’s face, his happiness deflating like a balloon. To him that meant, they were not good enough. Tears formed in his eyes. He wanted to be the best in the music business. He wanted to supersede his brother! But if this guy’s opinion was shared by everyone else…

Eiri felt like a heel. Dammit, he cursed. “I was kidding,” he snorted. “Jeeze, take everything seriously why don’tcha?”

The smile reappeared, like it had always been there. Shuichi’s tears vanished. He squealed and clapped, throwing himself at the strange writer and hugging him tightly. “You mean it? Yeah!” A deep blush flushed the writer’s face. “So,” Shuichi said, letting the man go. He sat back down besides him, bouncing like he was on a sugar high. “Tell me. What do you write?”

“Romance.” Eiri almost hated to admit it. He had no idea why he writes that drivel. He himself liked reading anything with a lot of blood, guts, flying body parts and a steamy sex scene here and there did not hurt either.

Shuichi blinked, taken back. This guy wrote that fluffy nonsense his mother and sister liked so much? “Romance?”

“As long as there are women...”

“Are you any good?”

Eiri shrugged. “I seem to be. My novels always make the top ten best sellers list.”

“Really? That’s so cool!”

Eiri studied his lithe singer. He always thought it was just for the stage, but this kid was as high strung as a helium balloon. Either that or someone with ADD on a sugar high. It seemed as if this guy could not sit still for more than five seconds. That might not be a bad thing, he thought. He could think of one thing where that would be very useful.

Shuichi had changed out of the skin tight stage outfit into a loose pair of low waisted tan khakis and a tight red half shirt under a white button down shirt that seemed to be a few sizes too large with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. He was wearing fingerless red gloves and had a black bag strapped across his back.

“Tell me something.”

“What?”

“Why are you out here in the middle of the night?”

Shuichi’s face fell. He stared at his hands clasped between his knees. To his horror, he felt genuine tears in his eyes. He had been having such a good time with this guy that he totally forgotten about everything else.

Eiri felt his chest tighten as he watched a mask of depression and unhappiness slipped onto Shuichi’s face. That look did not suit the boy. Why was he so upset all of a sudden? Was it something he said? What could possibly make someone who was always so happy, so sad? “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Shuichi shook his head. “My dad,” he cried. Sniffing, he wiped at the tears that tickled down his face. “My dad...he...”

Almost of its own violation, Eiri’s hand lightly brushed through the younger man’s bright pink hair that felt so soft despite all the dye, hair gel and hairspray and whatnot he must use in it. He studied his downed, saddened face. “What,” he prodded gently. “You and your dad don’t get along?” He snorted. “I know that feeling. My father wants me to be someone I’m not.”

“Really?” Shuichi looked up at the writer with large pleading, tear filled eyes.

Eiri nodded. “That’s when I moved out. I can’t be something I’m not, ya know?” He shrugged.

Shuichi nodded, sobbing. He felt a little better, knowing that he was not alone. “My dad...he... hates my guts.” The tears flowed faster down his face.

“What?” Eiri could not believe that to be the truth, maybe an exaggeration, but how could a parent truly despise their child? “I’m sure that’s not true.” He reached out with his other hand and gently brushed his fingers across the boy’s wet cheek. “I can’t imagine anyone thinking that about you,” he whispered huskily.

“It is,” Shuichi protested. “I’m just a freak, a mutation, a waste of flesh...,” he sobbed. “My brother was more of a father to me than Dad ever was! He ignores me like I’m even there!” Great sobs racked his body, making him shudder. His face was red and wet from all the crying. “My father...he doesn’t care what I do! I could show up as dead as a doornail on his doorstep and he wouldn’t care!”

Eiri had to fight the tears and the sob that threatened to show themselves. He also had to fight the desire to show this bastard of a father that his son was not a monster, but a gift from God. Maybe he could do that and at the same time, show Shuichi that he was loved. Eiri’s hand slipped from the boy’s cottony soft hair to his very upper thigh, squeezing it gently.

Shuichi turned a tear soaked face to the stranger besides him.

“I don’t think of you as a freak, Shuichi,” Eiri whispered in the boy’s ear. He smirked when Shuichi shivered. He squeezed the boy’s thigh again, stroking it. “Let me show you. Let’s show your dad what an asshole he is, how wrong he is. That you are...loved.”

Shuichi gulped painfully. “H-how?”

Eiri cupped the boy’s chin and tilted his hat back. He leaned forward and pressed their lips together. He pulled back enough to whisper, “Like this.”

The singer’s mind went blank. His eyes widened and he stiffened as a strange guy he had never met before in his life kissed him.

***