"How Much...?"

Written By: anti-nostalgic kumagoro

Disclaimer: I don't own Gravitation, because, if I did, my name would be Maki Murikami, I'd be Japanese, and I wouldn't have to write fanfiction about these characters.

Author's Notes: This is just some random idea that popped into my head recently. So, since my writing muse has been on an extensive vacation in Tahiti, this is sort of my 'welcome back!' present to it. ...My muses and I have very complicated relationships.

Summary: Shuichi asks Yuki how much he loves those close to him. Yuki answers in the ususal fashion. Warning! Little to no plot! And Fluff!

"Hey..."

Shuichi lay on his stomach, naked and tangled in the white sheets of his lover's bed. He had his tilted head cupped by his hands and propped up by his elbows, his hair tousled from the previous activities of his lover and himself. He was facing said lover, who was also tangled in the sheets and naked, a cigarette inbetween his pink lips, hair in a similar state of disaray. Shuichi was about to repeat himself, Eiri having shown no signs of hearing him, but just as he had opened his mouth, the writer blew out a stream of smoke and allowed his eyes to meet those of his lover, the rare citrine color meeting warm chocolate brown.

"...What?" Eiri replied at length, placing the cigarette to his lips again and inhaling, another puff of smoke floating into the air. "I'm listening."

Faltering slightly, Shuichi chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before asking his question. "Yuki... There are people that you love, right?"

A perfectly shaped and chizeled blonde eyebrow rose at the question, and, after another long pause, Eiri nodded slowly, taking another drag from his cigarette. "Yes, I suppose so... However screwed up and complicated that... feeling might be."

"Well... how much?" Shuichi asked, squirming around in the sheets to get more comfortable, his eyes never leaving his lover's.

Citrine eyes blinked, trying to make sense of the question. "'How much...?'" he asked, deciding that it was best to simply give up and find out what Shuichi meant before he got a headache. Honestly, sometimes Eiri couldn't even begin to make sense of the singer's musings.

"Well," Shuichi said, taking one of his hands away from beneath his chin to fiddle idly with the bed clothes, "how much do you love... say... Mika?"

Eiri considered this for a moment, chewing on the filter of his cigarette in thought. "...Enough to answer the phone everytime she calls, even when I know that all she's going to do is pester me to see my father, but not enough to be nice to her when she does." He inwardly smirked at his answer, knowing that, even though what he said was the truth, there was no way that Shuichi would accept that sort of cryptic response.

"Mmm," the vocalist answered without another word, looking at the sheets he was fiddling with as he pondered his lover's answer. Yuki was shocked that he took the answer so easily. He has expected more prying. "How about you father, then, since you brought him up. How much do you love your father?" Once again his eyes were focused on the novelist, his expression serious.

Normally, he would have given some bull shit answer about not giving a damn about his 'Old Man', but he decided that, since he had already been truthful about his sister, he might as well be honest about his father as well. It wasn't in his nature to keep much from Shuichi anyway. "Mmm... Enough to respect him and worry occationally about him dying, but not enough to be the ideal in his head that he wants to scupt me into."

Shuichi nodded, taking that in as well. He rolled onto his back and stretched out, moving so that his head was in Eiri's lap. "How much do you love Tatsuha?"

Allowing his fingers to lace through his lover's hair, the writer thought about his answer. "Enough to let him stay here whenever he wants, but not enough to get him free Nittle Grasper concert tickets or help him convince Tohma to let him meet Sakuma-san."

Shuichi closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling of those long, white gold fingers into his hair. He made a moaning sound in the back of throat at the contact before opening his eyes to ask another question. "Since you brought him up, how much do you love Tohma?"
"Enough to let him protect me and stick his nose into things that I would rather he didn't, but not enough to not get mad whenever he does." That answer came easier than the other ones. His friendship with Tohma was much less complicated than his relationship with his family. He continued to pet Shuichi's hair gently, not sure why he felt like doing something so affectionate.

There was a pause, filled with a comfortable silence as Eiri stroked his lover's hair before Shuichi lifted his head from Eiri's lap, sitting up and straddling his boyfriend's lap. Shuichi's eyes bore into Yuki's with an intensity that tugged at the novelist's heart hard, making him a little afraid. "How much did you love Kitazawa Yuki?" The question was spoken in barely a whisper, but Eiri heard it as clearly as if he had shouted it in his ear with a megaphone.

He felt as though his tongue was tied. For a moment, he could not get out the words that he knew he had to say because he couldn't say them, not when Shuichi's eyes were boring into his with such gravity, such earnestness. It was an extreamely long pause before he got his voice back again.

"...I loved him enough to kill him." It was said softly, but with force, and, to Eiri's credit, their eye contact was not broken. "And he loved me enough to destroy me..."

"...Do you think he really loved you?" Shuichi whispered, his arms wrapping loosely around Yuki's neck.

"I don't know...," the writer said softly, as if he were speaking to someone else other than Shuichi, "I think that's why I killed him."

The pair was silent for a moment, taking in the true meaning of what was just said. Suddenly, Shuichi tightened his grip and held Eiri to him as hard as he could, kissing his cheek and neck and ears with a strange sort of abandon of self which Eiri eagerly clung to, if only for a few precious moments.

After he composed himself, Shuichi pulled back a little, gently pushing a few of his lover's blonde tresses back behind his ear. "Eiri... Can I ask you one more question?" The novelist nodded his confirmation once after a moment of thought, letting the vocalist know that he was permitted to continue. "...How much do you love me?"

Eiri pulled away a little bit to consider Shuichi, looking at him as if he had just seen him truly for the first time. Cautiously, he leaned in, capturing his lover's lips with his own, kissing him long and sweetly, something that he did very rarely and made Shuichi quiver with emotion every time it did. After he pulled away, he smiled inwardly at the dazed, happy expression on the singer's face, the way his lips parted slightly and his eyes still closed to savor the contact. When he opened his eyes, he smiled blithely at Eiri, saying simply, "that wasn't an answer to the question."

Affectionately swiping his knuckles down the side of the vocalist's cheek, the writer whispered softly, "I love you enough not to kill you..."

Fin