Inspired by Elbow's Fugitive Motel on their album: Cast of Thousands. This will be a three part one shot divided into chapters. Enjoy it or don't; it's as simple as that.

He couldn't believe the situation he was in; the Eiri Yuki renting a room in a shoddy motel in the middle of east bumblefuck, the reslut of an overheated rental car engine. The twenty-something novelist was on his way to a book signing when he got lost, and being the man he is he didn't ask for directions. After hours of aimless driving well into the evening the engine of the rental car gave way to the summer heat and left Eiri stranded on a stretch of seemingly endless dirt road. Luckily for him a passing car gave him a ride to the nearest motel with a neon sign reminiscent of those from the '50s and '60s, fluorescent lights happily buzzing away its advertisement of vacancies.

Eiri thanked the driver and grabbed his precious cargo from the backseat and started for the entrance, relieved he was alive. The motel was almost empty. There were only four cars in the lot from what Eiri noticed. Walking up the porch the blonde entered the small lobby; the light twinkle of a bell signaled his arrival. A stout middle-aged woman emerged from the back curtain with a smile big enough to accentuate the deep crow's feet around her eyes.

"Evening, looking to stay the night?" she stated, rather than inquired. Eiri put his suitcase and laptop case down on the hardwood next to his feet. "Yeah, my car broke down about ten minutes from here, is there a local shop I can call?" The lady nodded, "Of course, let me grab the phone book." She knelt down to check the desk drawers and came back up with a thick yellow book. "Here you go, there's a pay phone just outside the door." Eiri gave a curt nod in thanks, accepting the book and going back outside.

Flipping through the phone book he came across a local shop. Reaching into his pocket, the novelist discovered his cell phone to be missing. Cursing himself, Eiri remembered his phone last being on the passenger's seat of the rental car, who knows how long away down the dirt road to nowhere. Taking a quarter out of his pocket he deposited it into the machine and dialed the number. No one answered. Checking his watch Eiri noticed it was quarter to nine already and most respectable auto shops would be closed by now.

Sighing, Eiri put the phone back onto the receiver and took a moment to collect his thoughts. A faint sound to his right caught his attention. A figure sitting slouched over was lighting a cigarette, his back towards Eiri, exhaling a plume of smoke that elegantly rose to the sky. This gave Eiri the urge to do the same, but first he should rent a room and get himself established for the night.

Reentering the lobby the woman was patiently waiting at the desk, flipping through a magazine. "Any luck?" she asked. Eiri shook his head. "Well that's a shame. Better luck in the morning then," she smiled some more, which made the novelist somewhat sick inside. Turning around, the woman reached for a key on the wall.

"If you'll just sign this with your name, date, and the current time you'll be set for the night." Eiri signed the guest book with Usuegi Eiri rather than his famous pseudonym for obvious reasons, the date, and checked his watch again for the time. Handing the book back he was given a key with a tag with his room number attached. "You've got room 14. It's to your right as you walk out the door on the second level. Have a nice night."

Taking his suitcase and laptop, Eiri went back outside to get to his room. Out the door, he looked to his left. The smoking figure he saw before wasn't sitting on the porch anymore.

Walking past a row of doors to the stairs Eiri was serenaded with the night melody of crickets and cicadas in the surrounding wood. Since he's moved away from Kyoto he hasn't heard this sound for years. This will be the first night he's falling asleep to something other than car horns and loud sexual activities from the neighbors. The air was considerably cooler than it was during the day, but the humidity made it feel just as muggy. The novelist prayed for there to be air conditioning in his room.

Now up on the second tier Eiri drudged his way to the fourteenth room and unlocked the door with his key, inviting himself in. Turning the light on he found the room to be very banal. The pale yellow walls were dirtied at the corners near the white stucco ceiling. The television was probably as old as him, same with most everything else in the room from the musty smell, but at least the bed was queen sized, and lo and behold, an air conditioner was installed in the window at the far side of the room.

Placing his laptop on the desk and his suitcase on the floor, Eiri made a bee-line around the bed to turn the air conditioner on. Fanning himself with his hand, the blonde welcomed the cooling atmosphere, dropping onto the bed sitting against the headrest. Then came a light knock at the door.

"…It's me."

Eiri was more intrigued than he was afraid by the male voice outside his door. As pissed as he was, not even a minute relaxed with an unexpected visitor, this could end up quite interesting and could serve as an entertaining end to a frustratingly long day. He got up and walked to the door, albeit with some caution in his step. The peephole was scratched to hell, so Eiri didn't know what to expect on the other side.

Outside the door was a young male, the same one Eiri saw smoking near the pay phone earlier. His age was probably in the 18 to 20 range. His top half was turned towards the parking lot, staring out into nowhere with one arm around his midsection and his other hand up at his mouth. As soon as he noticed the door opened he turned around, still chewing on his nails.

"And you are?..." Eiri looked him over. He never thought he would use the word 'beautiful' to ever describe another man, but that was the only word that came to mind. Chin length auburn hair framed his heart-shaped face. His skin was a healthy tan and his eyes an impossible shade of violet. The young man was dressed in a black wife beater and tan cargo pants that rode low on his hips. Was he even wearing boxers?

Slim fingers left his mouth, but lingered on his lush, saliva-coated lips. Eiri noticed the younger male began to look flustered as his eyebrows furrowed. "Oh fuck," his arms dropped to his sides. Eiri heard him mumble something about misinterpreting room fourteen or something or other, his room.

"I'm sorry, wrong room," he sighed in frustration, and began to walk down the hall, punching the door of a vacant room on the way. Eiri watched him with intense interest until he walked around the corner and out of sight before going back into his room.

Sitting on the bed, he began to interpret the situation. The only explanation he could come up with was the boy was a prostitute and simply went to the wrong room. He didn't look like a whore. Sure he had a pretty face, but his clothes weren't slutty at all. Eiri's train of thought surprised him. He didn't go for men often in his promiscuous lifestyle. He would binge on women for the most part, but he admits to indulging in his homosexual side once in a blue moon. There's no better way of reclaiming masculinity than to dominate another guy's back entrance.

Eiri sat back and wondered to himself if the violet-eyed beauty would be there in the morning. He then thought about the lady that checked him in. What would she think when she found out what kind of debauchery took place at her quaint little inn in the middle of nowhere? Eiri laughed for a moment.

Tired after a long hot day the novelist decided to call it an early night and get a good night's sleep. In the morning he would have to deal with his car, but for now he could care less if it was stolen by some redneck sons of bitches before he is able to wake up. It doesn't matter, he can afford the costs. Was he a rich and famous romance novelist or not?

Getting up he prepared for bed, but before getting under the covers he walked back to the door and slid the lock in place for good measure. Who knows what creeps this place is catering to tonight?