Here's the fourth and final chapter to my Fracture series. Deep thanks go out to those who have given me so much encouragement and feedback on this story. Your comments are invaluable and I've never been so productive in my writing. I can't thank you enough.

Fusion:

Shuichi whistled as he skipped up the front steps to Yuki's apartment. A night out with Hiro proved to have been just what he needed and he still felt joyfully giddy. His mind buzzed with his favorite songs and countless 'lover undercover' ideas for ways to find out more about Yuki.

He swung a canvas messenger bag bulging with books in one hand. At Hiro's suggestion, they'd stopped back at the guitarist's apartment to pick up a few things—a simplified kanji dictionary, a book of mnemonics for kanji memorization, and Hiro's own copy of Yuki's novel to pore over.

Shuichi's whistling died down to a hushed hum as he unlocked the front door. With all the progress he'd made with Hiro that night, he'd all but forgotten that Yuki had left angry earlier that same night. His heart sank and he bit his lip. Another night sleeping on the sofa. He would be lucky if Yuki came back that night at all. Oh, well. Any time he had to himself would be time well-spent studying Yuki's novels. Hiro had already given him a good summary on the basics of the book so he felt well prepared.

Shuichi slipped towards the dark living room to grab the mangled notebook he used to write his lyrics--it seemed an appropriately inspirational place to write down his observations on Yuki's novel. When he rounded the corner, however, he was stunned to find Yuki hovering over the notebook already. The vocalist nearly yelped in surprise from being so sure he was home alone.

Yuki was sitting on the couch in Shuichi's usual spot with a pen cap in his mouth and his reading glasses perched on his nose. He was scrawling something into the notebook and looked almost a little guilty when he looked up to see Shuichi gaping back at him in surprise.

Yuki hastily finished the final line of text not a moment too soon. Shuichi had come home earlier than expected and caught him in the act. Whatever. It was something he wanted Shuichi to see, he'd just hoped he could have written it faster and not been around when he found it. Shuichi could then discover the writing at some future time and save Yuki from the edgy embarrassment that always nagged him when people read his work right in front of him.

"Hi, Yuki," Shuichi said demurely. He shuffled across the room in his stocking feet in hesitant mincing steps. There was a look of sheepish hopefulness there—a fear of undeserved harshness.

Am I really so cold to him? Yuki pondered, feeling a stab at guilt. Here, he was the one trying to be an adult and set things right, but Shuichi was the one who wore an apologetic expression.

Despite the unpleasant circumstance and ulterior motive, Yuki had given a lot of thought to Tohma's words on the way home. He decided the man was right about one thing—it wasn't fair to expect Shuichi to read his novels. He'd known when he first bedded the boy that he wasn't exactly the literary type. Why did it make sense to expect that of him now?

But Tohma was wrong about how to deal with the problem. Abandoning Shuichi for difference of perspective was simply wrong, but Yuki still relied on his writing to express his affection since he felt too stunted to say it in person. He decided that he could still say what he wanted in writing—he would just be sure to do it in a language that Shuichi understood.

Yuki put on a somber expression, capped the pen and stood up from the couch taking off his glasses. "Welcome back," he said. He hoped his tone of voice projected the note of apology he couldn't bring himself to speak in words.

Shuichi's mincing steps broke into a happy lover's lope until he'd cross the room and draped himself over Yuki like an overcoat, wrapping his arms around his partner affectionately. "I missed you," he said, still feeling a happy buzz from his talk with Hiro. "Mmm… You smell good," he said softly, breathing in the scent of Yuki's pristine shirt.

His eyes fell to the notebook. "Whatcha writing?"

"Uhhh—" Yuki said, fumbling for good excuse.

Shuichi tromped over to the coffee table and picked up the spiral-bound notebook. The top page was covered in Yuki's pretty handwriting. It was a rare sight to see since the author preferred using his laptop to handwriting at almost every opportunity. His writing was drawn in crisp, immaculate, and somehow confident strokes—a stark contrast to Shuichi's careless scrawl. Shuichi would have been happy to have so much as a grocery list written in Yuki's hand, but as his eyes darted over the words on the page, he found he was holding so much more.

"Yuki, this is…" he began. He knew what he was looking at, but he did not understand.

"They're lyrics," Yuki said. It was too late to slip away, so he lit a cigarette he wasn't in the mood for just to keep his hands busy, to feign distraction. "You said you were stuck writing this latest one, right?"

Shuichi looked back down at the page of lyrics. They were deep, meaningful—clearly ideas that were well thought out, but in wording that was raw and improvised. It was a love song.

"Well I-I don't know what to say," Shuichi said, "These are awesome but—But this latest song was supposed to be more aggressive and, uhhm, well I'm not sure they would go along with the music tracks the guys already laid out." He winced as he said it, a little guilty. He hated to be ungrateful or critical, but he didn't want Yuki to be hurt that he couldn't use these lyrics. And why had this come up so suddenly anyway? He hoped he wasn't hurt…

"That's fine," Yuki said. He looked relieved rather than annoyed. "You can just keep it. For yourself." He shrugged. "Or future reference or whatever."

Shuichi's eyes widened in slow, but brilliant realization. He remembered what Hiro had said about the heroine in Yuki's latest book having an eerie amount in common with Shuichi. He thought of Hiro's suggestion that Yuki was more emotive in written than spoken words.

"No," Shuichi said with soft decisiveness, "These are much too personal. I'd rather just save them for inspiration." His eyes glowed warm adoration in Yuki's direction. It took everything in him to keep from squealing with joy and making a scene, but he knew that would only make Yuki embarrassed, maybe even take the page of lyrics back. He relied on his eyes to tell Yuki, 'Thank you, thank you, thank you… I love it.'

Yuki waved a dismissive hand. "Do what you want," he said.

Shuichi thought there was something that looked like the flickering start of a smile on Yuki's face, but it was quickly covered when the blond lifted his hand to the cigarette in his mouth, covering his lips.

"A-are you hungry?" Shuichi said, still quivering inside with lovesick excitement. "I'll cook us something."

Yuki arched a dubious eyebrow. "You? Cook?" He bit back a comment about how he didn't feel like spending the night doubled over with stomach cramps.

"I'll fry us some gyoza," Shuichi volunteered, undaunted. "It's the pre-made package kind so I can't screw it up too bad!" He winked and stuck his tongue out in a cheerfully self-mocking expression.

"That sounds… perfect," Yuki said.

Shuichi still clutched the notebook in a death grip as he bounced into the kitchen. His first love letter from Yuki! That notebook wasn't going to leave his side for a second. It would be ages before he would go anywhere without it, and that suited them both just fine.