Adult-FanFiction.org : Celebrity

agitator	By : UtsukushiiAiji Category: J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop > Crossovers Views: 1723 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or represent any of these celebrities. I make no profit from this, nor do I claim anything herein as the truth. It is purely fictional.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Title:
agitator pt. 3c; Dir en grey side
Author: Alexandra
Rating: PG-13 for now
Genre: Still immoral, still illegal – still the way you like it~
Pairing: Kaoru x Toshiya, Kyo x Toshiya, Die x Shinya
Comments: Still writing this part, so please hang tight. Also, if you have problems reading about drug use, don't read this.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Shin-chan hurry up, we gotta get going soon.”
Die peered outside the bathroom door and into the hallway, fingers still endlessly fiddling with the bowtie around his neck.
“Coming~~~” the voice he knew so well called back, muffled a bit by a shut door.
Dir en grey’s guitarist was excited. He felt like tonight was going to be a great night, despite the ominous mood that seemed to be hanging over everyone’s heads. Shinya had helped wash away most of his recent uneasiness by upping his affection and cuddling time, and things were finally starting to look like more than just dating between the two of them. Yes, he was one happy man. And the only thing that made him brim with pride more than that thought of having Shinya as his own was---
“Well Die-kun? How does your Shinya look?”
--showing Shinya off.
It wasn’t everyday you had a boyfriend next to you who was adored by thousands and equally as adored by yourself every morning you woke up. He felt good about himself when the shy drummer was around, able to forget about his subconscious insecurities with weight and appearance for the most part. Shinya’s unique and androgynous beauty reassured him of his own self-worth; his quiet praise and refined laughter music to the redhead’s ears. A wide, white smile formed on the guitarist’s face as he stepped into the hallway, only to be greeted by….
Shinya in a suit.
His smile faded.
Now of course, Shinya was a handsome man no matter what he donned. On that particular night he had chosen a traditional black suit to compliment Die’s tux, tailored to cling to his sides nicely. His hair was washed, soft and glowing golden in the light, the majority pulled into a ponytail and the rest framing his face. An expensive Armani tie hung from his neck, its lilac color bright against the black shirt he wore beneath the coat. The black slimmed his figure dramatically, almost making his body look more like something out of anime than reality. But unattractive it was not. The Shinya that stood before Die was the epitome of a sharp young man, all immaculateness and silver accessories sparkling at the turn of his wrist. And that was the problem.
He looked like a man.
“Die-kun, is there something on my face?” Shinya asked with concern.
The redhead snapped out of his daze.
“What?” he smiled to cover the slight cracking in his voice, “Oh no baby, come here and let me fawn over you na…..”
He held his arms out appreciatively and the drummer blushed lightly, walking happily into his arms.
“Don’t you look nice,” he whispered into the wheat gold strands, arms enveloping his lover. He felt the wordless murmur of pleasure in response as Shinya pressed himself against his body. “And you smell good too….”
He kissed the side of his head and Shinya giggled.
“You look really handsome in that tux Die….I bet all the girls will be looking at you tonight,” he added half in jest and half in uneasiness, arms tightening around the guitarist’s waist ever so slightly.
But Die was oblivious to Shinya’s own protective instincts, one of the few qualms he still couldn’t shake tugging on his mind and his pride. He loved Shinya dearly, and he wanted to see the other happy by all means, but……was it too much that he ask the other to play the female role? That trait was what had attracted him to the younger man to begin with…
Die swallowed nervously as he fingered the bottom of Shinya’s coat.
He still couldn’t handle the thought of not being the man in the relationship, even if Shinya’s dominance in the bedroom felt rather nice at times. Maybe it was the way he had been raised, or his personality, or maybe he was too used to seeing the way Kyo and Kaoru and all his friends acted towards their partners, he didn’t know. But when the realm of the bedroom was pushed aside, he wanted to be the one wearing the pants so to speak. He wanted other couples to see them and marvel at what wonderful care he took of Shinya, of how happy the boy must be to have such a handsome man to protect and love him, and think of how pleased he must be to have such a well bred, talented lover to return to each night, to warm his bed for him….
I mean, I am a man after all, right? he tried to justify to himself while caressing Shinya’s thin back. It’s not strange for me to want such things, even if I’ve chosen a man as my mistress….It emanates from both of us what roles we should play -- it’s unnatural to defy such order. Shinya will understand, won’t he? If he loves me he will. I only want to take care of him, and all I ask in return is that I get credit where credit is due. It’s what any man wants, to have someone he loves to nurture and provide for. I mean, look at the way Toshiya always, well used to always, hang all over Kaoru when the two of them went out…Sure, Kaoru didn’t always look like the most comfortable guy on Earth under the onslaught, but he’s just modest after all. It doesn’t matter that Toshiya’s a guy, all that matters is that he plays the role set for him, regardless of his sex, right? Shinya, when he looks like this…He’s handsome…almost too handsome…people will think, well, you can’t tell between the two of us…..I don’t want them to think he’s in charge. Not that he’s incapable, I just…It isn’t comfortable. I don’t have to justify that do I? It’s wrong to be uncomfortable with those you love….
“Shin-chan?” Die whispered while placing another kiss on the side of the drummer’s head.
“Yes?”
“You look so good in this suit love, you really do…”
The brunette sighed with contentment, Die’s compliments always a pleasant gift.
“Thank you….”
He felt a calloused hand stroke his flawless ponytail.
“Kedo….Shin-chan, remember that present I bought you?”
“Mmm..”
“Have you opened it yet?”
Shinya tilted his head a little in confusion, ready to pull away if need be.
“No, you said not to open it until today…?”
“Well baby, why don’t you go see what I bought for you….”
The drummer loosened his hold on his boyfriend, pulling back with a curious smile on his face. Die smiled back, taking the time to run a hand under the boy’s frail jawbone appreciatively.
“Ha-hai….”
Die watched as Shinya broke the embrace gently, turning away to retreat back into their bedroom but tossing one last look of question over his thin shoulder. The guitarist smiled and waved a reassuring hand in encouragement, satisfied as the brunette smiled back and turned the corner at a faster pace. He leisurely followed after Shinya as was expected, giving the other ample time to retrieve the box from the depths of the closet. The open door soon came into view and he paused, hovering outside to hear the other’s reaction.
If Toshiya were given the same present, he would behave ideally I think…I don’t have any other male friends who are put in the same positions as he and Shinya, or rather, the positions I think their partners want them to be in in my case. I don’t know if how I think he should accept the gift is normal or….Am I overbearing? I’m not being a jerk, am I?
Even though his mind was quick to mouth “yes”, he shrugged off the sensation and focused on long fingers tugging at the ribbon he’d asked them to gift-wrap the package with. When Shinya looked up at him again with a curious expression, he smiled wide and nodded in assurance. Eventually, the ribbon fell to the floor and Shinya was gently shaking the box to pry the top off.
“Oh how wonderful, you got me...” his voice trailed a bit unsurely as he picked up the object inside and let it unravel until the fabric formed clothing, “...a black dress!”
The drummer still held his smile, bred better than to show an adverse reaction to any gift. He did like the dress, he just wasn’t sure what this had to do with anything when they had somewhere to be shortly.
“Do you like it?” Die tried to smother the eagerness in his voice.
“Of course I do!” Shinya leaned over and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek in appreciation. “What a thoughtful thing to get me. I’ll try it on first thing when we get back.”
The brunette held the dress up higher and examined both the back and front, eyeing the dipping backline with a bemused smirk.
“First thing,” he reiterated with a wink, already forming an inkling of what kind of evening they were going to have together once all the party duty was out the way. He was rapidly getting used to the fact that his boyfriend thought of sex before he contemplated eating, breathing, sleeping, or any other activity conducive to staying alive.
“Well, uh,” Die quickly tried to think of a smooth suggestion to not betray how desperately he wanted Shinya in the dress, “why don’t you try it on now?”
The laugh he was met with was not the response he had hoped for.
“Because we have to be there early or else who knows how this party is going to go? I’d love to put it on right now Die-kun but I also want to come home tonight in one piece, which won’t be happening if Toshiya sees we’re late!”
He laughed again, gently laying the dress back into the box and moving to shut it. A hand caught his arm before he could do so. Startled, the brunette looked to his boyfriend.
Die kept his pretty white smile and let go of Shinya as abruptly as he had grabbed him, realizing the action was a little too forceful.
“If we don’t have much time, you could always, I dunno, just wear it to the party,” he suggested with an innocent shrug. “You’ve still got those heels Toshiya let you borrow, right?”
Die was completely aware he still had those heels as he had made sure they were still in the same spot, untouched, in the back of the closet as they had been since the last time they had been utilized for some bedroom fun.
Shinya’s brow creased in confusion.
“Yeah, I think I still have them…but,” he looked at the watch on his wrist, “we really have to leave soon and dressing up like that would take at least another hour. Weren’t you the one who was just saying we had to go?”
Die tried not to bite his lip. This wasn’t going the way he planned at all. In his mind, Shinya was supposed to be so overwhelmed by his “thoughtful gift” that, if he had opened it earlier, he would be spinning around in it by now, and at the very least he would be willing to make time to throw it on and spin around in it all night long for everyone to see. So far there was no dress donning, and definitely no spinning. He wanted spinning dammit.
“Are you sure you don’t want to try? You owe it to all those fledgling VK boys to show them how a real drummer dresses,” he joked, looking longingly at the 35,600yen dress he had spent four days shopping for that was now lying, unworn, in a box on the bed.
“I promise I’ll try it on when we get back,” he replied with a patient smile and gentle hand on Die’s jacket sleeve. “Seriously though, we gotta jet.”
His gray eyes glanced anxiously back at his watch, and long legs began propelling him towards the door. Much to his surprise though, Die was still standing like he had been, a blank, vaguely puppy-esque expression gracing his features. Shinya could tell something was tearing him in two directions, as this was the frozen stance he’d encountered many a time when friends had beckoned via cell phone for the guitarist to come drinking while he lay in bed, prone, partially nude, and ready to be fondled. If he wasn’t already in the bed commencing fondling, there would always be a lapse of time where Die stood clueless, holding a ringing cell phone in one hand and a bottle of lotion in the other, two halves of his brain at equal odds with one another. Only a combination of music, sex, or liquor could cause such confusion within the youth, so why he was standing there was beyond him.
“Aren’t you co---wait. You were totally expecting me to wear this, weren’t you?”
It was time to lie or get with the program, and Die wasn’t completely ready for that yet. The redhead nodded in honesty, still holding out hope that in the next five minutes Shinya was going to have a black dress revelation.
“Why didn’t you make sure I opened it sooner if that was the case? And for that matter ---” the youth paused in his admonishing, realizing that logic and reason had never really worked on anyone in the band save for Kaoru, and it probably wasn’t going to start now. Where his boyfriend wanted to go with this he wasn’t sure, but he had too many responsibilities tonight to be worrying about heels and makeup, even if he was comfortable wearing such things in public.
Which I’m not, he stated mentally. But surely Die knows that.
“--Never mind. Can we just leave now Die? Please?”
The look of exasperation on Shinya’s face was enough to budge Die’s otherwise stubborn ways. It may have been killing him that his grand plan for the night and the largest thing his comfort was hinged on had fallen through, but the immediacy of those pleading eyes stirred him to action.
“Sure Shin-chan; sorry about that, I dunno what I was thinking,” he laughed, nodding to the drummer to move through the door. “Let’s go!”
He wished he could have kept the grin on his face once grateful eyes were off him. Unfortunately, whatever clear and sunny metaphorical weather Die had been expecting for the evening now seemed just as overcast and foreboding a warning as it did to everyone else. As he followed his boyfriend out to the car, he couldn’t help but wonder if Kaoru was handling Toshiya any better than he was Shinya, angry with himself for not planning things better and getting cornered because of it.
“Oh crap! Die, did you bring the presents?” Shinya whipped around and asked before they made it to the car, snow beginning to fall around them.
“Shit, I’ll go get them,” came the concerned response in steamy tufts.
“Hurry and I’ll get the car started!”
With a dutiful, if sullen, nod, Die headed quickly back into the house to retrieve the bag containing Kyo’s presents. It was sitting next to the couch where they had put it so as not to forget. As his hands clamped down on the bag handle and he turned to head back outside, the open bedroom door caught his eye.
Like nothing had gone wrong in the first place, a mischievous smile spread on glossed lips.
Die had a new plan.
~*~
“Toshiya, what’s going on in there?”
He could almost hear his partner’s voice calling from the living room.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
The sound of footsteps coming closer, closer, until they were almost on top of him, stepping on his face and smothering the life out of him. He could just imagine it, those worn leather shoes he liked to wear out, pressed flat against his nose and slowly crushing the bridge of it until they smashed through his face and left his skull a broken, bloody mess.
“Are you hurt?”
Rage reared inside him again, as quickly and as deftly as it had last time, his other shoe racing through the air until it careened with the recently broken mirror. This time the shattered glass fell from the frame in chunks, a few determined, jagged shards clinging on for life.
The sight of the broken mirror just made him more angry, more frustrated, this feeling eating away at him until red was all he could see and think.
“…..fuck,” he growled, anxiety building as he knew he’d just broken something expensive, but more so that his companion was coming soon to retrieve him and nothing could be done about it. He’d set all of this up and now all he wanted to do was cry and scream and sleep it all away. But that was just a fleeting dream, and this was reality. Reality that his socks needed covering by shoes, shoes that he had flung across the room in a rage and no longer in his hands like they should have been.
“…FUCK!!!” the bassist screamed again while he could, while no one was around to correct him or otherwise pry into his being.
No Toshiya, keep it together! Have to keep it together, have to….
The breaths he drew were shaking, shaking on the verge of an imminent breakdown. He wasn’t going to break down though. Not again. Breaking down was just a dream, and this was reality. There was no more room for breaking down. Adults didn’t do that sort of adolescent bullshit, he told himself. Adults marched along to the tune of a universal drummer; of a universal truth that left no room for weakness or the weepy eyes of a man dying inside.
With a hard slap to his face, he reminded himself aloud that he had to keep it together.
Slowly, with a painstaking care that belied the watery rims of his eyes, Toshiya retrieved his shoes from the corners of the room they had landed in. With a deflated sigh he walked back to his bed, trying to ignore the thumping that was still occurring in his chest. His thoughts whirled about so fast that he couldn’t concentrate on any singular one, nor did he want to. He didn’t want to think about the party, or his partner, or the possibility of all the pebbles he had piled up inadvertently finally toppling down about him.
Right now, he just wanted to be numb.
~*~
“Hi.”
He felt the skin pulling over his teeth into a smile he’d been making a lot these days. The smiles he could feel were always the worst, because that meant they were the least genuine.
“He---”
Kaoru’s greeting stuck in his throat as Toshiya’s attire sunk into his senses unpleasantly. He was already reaching a hand out to grab a hold of his boyfriend and usher him to the car so that they wouldn’t be late. Not because he cared about Kyo, or his birthday, but because this was yet another event he had to oversee lest things go wrong and he got the blame as usual. This was not what he wanted to do this cold winter evening, and if he was going to be forced to attend this party that Toshiya proclaimed to care so much about, things weren’t going to go wrong on his end, oh no. But Toshiya’s appearance indicated that they already were, and he was just going to have to deal with it.
Thoughts battled back and forth in his brain and he weighed the consequences of complaining versus keeping his mouth shut. He didn’t need surprises tonight; he didn’t need surprises from his partner whom he was going to great lengths and personal discontent to please. Half of his brain bristled that Toshiya was brazen enough to change plans, and the other half tumbled about in confusion, wondering why nothing ever went right anymore.
Toshiya watched the twitching of the guitarist’s features with the same blank smile. Kaoru was going to say something, just like Kaoru always said something when things didn’t go the way he expected them to. The big difference this time was that he didn’t care. He had spent too much time caring, and look where he was now. Cycling through the same scenarios at different locations with the same fake smile plastered on his face.
Indignity won out on his lover’s side as he finally formed a sentence.
“Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing to the party,” Kaoru mumbled with a strange look on his face. He was trying to joke while the tight-lipped frown he naturally donned upon disapproval was pulling at his nonchalance.
“What’s wrong with it?” Toshiya countered evenly, but his brain was already tuned out to the reply. His lips were just going through the motions.
“Well, for starters, I thought we were all supposed to dress in conservative black? Unless I was struck blind yesterday--”
Toshiya’s uneven teeth ground against one another, Kaoru’s dramatic statements always unnecessary for the points he was trying to make.
“you appear to be wearing white, the exact opposite of---”
“Has it occurred to you that maybe I’m not wearing this just to piss you off and that maybe something happened to my initial outfit and this is a replacement?” the bassist snapped while throwing on his faux fur coat. He didn’t wait for an answer before he turned to lock his apartment door. It may not have been logical to assume that he had ripped his first choice in clothing amidst the rage that led up to the shoe throwing, but that was the truth that he would rather not be reminded of.
Kaoru was glad his boyfriend didn’t turn around given that his mouth was hanging open in shock at the attitude presented to him. Shock that quickly turned to resentment.
“I’m just trying to keep in line with what you wanted,” he replied curtly, lips settling back into an unreadable expression. “I didn’t think crystals and corsets counted as conservative.”
There was a bitterness to the guitarist’s voice that surprised even himself. He couldn’t believe that Toshiya wearing something other than what he expected could upset him so much, but it had. Under the white fur coat his slim boyfriend was decked out in a short white corset with black satin hemming, a healthy dose of his midriff exposed until matching pants crept up his pelvic bone and put an end to the indecency. A thick rhinestone choker covered the boy’s neck, while a matching rhinestone and black leather belt hung around his hips. At least Kaoru hoped they were rhinestones; Toshiya was known to wantonly blow money on designer items if the mood struck him, regardless of the effect they had on his budget. Of course, whatever he purchased always looked great on him, just like his current outfit hugged all the right curves and brought attention to the loveliest parts of his body. His hair was styled demurely, bangs swept to one side while the rest of his onyx hair puffed a bit in the back and settled down modestly. The extra height his platform boots provided only heightened the emphasis on his shapely legs and small waist. Even the crystal catches on the front of the corset angered him, inviting the eyes to look higher to his pretty face, heavily shadowed eyes, and cherry-red lips. He looked at once beautiful and glamorous; like a Hollywood starlet or a Hollywood escort, whatever one preferred. Kaoru wondered if the outfit was expensive female clubwear or what – he’d never seen it, but he could feel the effect it was having on him and it made him frustrated that he had chosen such a thing to wear to Kyo’s party.
He hasn’t dressed up for me in weeks, and that outfit looks so goddamn hot on his gorgeous body no one will be able to keep their eyes off him….And this party was supposed to be about that blonde ass and we were all going to dress more or less the same, to take the emphasis off ourselves and place it on Kyo, and now it’s like, like he and Kyo are going to be the main attractions….
A queasy feeling settled in his gut upon making that connection distinct.
Why is everything involving Kyo good enough for him to get worked up about these days? Why didn’t he dress like this for my birthday?
Which, his mind added, they hadn’t even celebrated because his lover kept insisting they get Kyo’s b-day over with first. It was insulting, but more so, it deeply hurt Kaoru’s feelings that he was taking a backseat to someone he had never considered a threat before. He would give anything to be able to read Toshiya’s mind at this point….
The bassist in question was already walking to the car, shaking his hair lightly to keep snowflakes from lodging in it. When he reached the car, a glare was thrown over his shoulder.
“Are you looking for an apology, or are you trying to make us late.”
There was little question to the statement, or heat for that matter. Toshiya seemed unaffected and distant in a manner that made his boyfriend’s insides churn even more. Kaoru was used to the boy’s huffy disagreements, but in the end he normally buckled to whatever he was preaching and things continued to flow like normal. It wasn’t like him to ignore him, or at least not to be emotional in the process of trying to do so. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time Toshiya acted like this for so long…..
“…Fine, let’s leave.” A sigh mixed with the reply as Kaoru anxiously fingered the car keys in his left hand and strode to the vehicle. He wanted to say something to convey just how unhappy he was with the night so far, but the logical part of him was resigned to the same kind of awkwardness and frustration he’d been dealing with since the conception of this party. It was all too much to deal with and he felt like the tension that was present in his mind and body and his relationship day after day was going to cause him to start screaming and never stop if he let himself analyze it for too long.
The guitarist’s gloved hand reached out beside his boyfriend and grasped the car door, pulling it open.
“After you,” he said quietly, gesturing towards the passenger seat.
Toshiya slid into the seat in one fluid motion, grabbing the door and shutting it before Kaoru had a chance to.
~*~
The trip to the dance hall would have consisted of absolute silence between the two of them had Toshiya’s cell phone not rang.
The noise made the bassist jump visibly, a hand pressing against his chest firmly as he struggled to calm his heart, answer the phone, and act like nothing had jolted him.
Kaoru watched from the driver’s side in masked interest, the jittery reaction contrasting with Toshiya’s otherwise remote behavior.
Stop acting like an idiot Toshiya; it wouldn’t be him and Kaoru’s sure to notice me wigging out over a phone call, he hissed in his mind, checking the phone.
It was Die, calling to see how things were going just like he said he would. He should have expected that had his mind not been in another realm altogether, weaving a desperate plan to keep all of his being whole for this party. A plan that included a man he would rather Kaoru have no inkling of.
He hasn’t called me for ages; he wouldn’t start out of the blue now. I have to relax.
He flipped open his keitai and answered cheerily enough.
“Hello?”
“Hey Toshiya, it’s me. Are you two still running on schedule?”
“Yeah, we are.”
“Okay, cool. Shinya and I are already here and guests are slowly starting to show up. The door greeter isn’t here so I’ve got him filling in for now…are you guys gonna be here soon?”
He could hear the noise of music and random voices blurring alongside Die’s voice.
“We should be there in less than 20 minutes if this traffic lets up.”
“Alright….and uh,” the words fumbled out of Die’s mouth as if he’d been prodded, “everything is taken care of on this end, so don’t stress, okay? You guys just show up and we can get things rolling no problem.”
“Don’t stress,” Toshiya mocked sourly in his mind. The day that Die has all his bases covered is the day I find myself face-deep in cunninglus. What a crock of shit, and Shinya better be calling the shots when we show up or my head is going to explode.
Instead of the acid he almost expected to drip from his lips and sear the phone, the sweet tones of a grateful friend found their way out of Toshiya’s mouth instead.
“Thanks so much Die. Tell Shin-chan hi and we’ll see you guys soon, okay?”
“Sure thing! Ja na~”
“Ja.”
He clicked the phone shut without looking at it, more concerned with the racing of his pulse and if it was going to stop any time soon. Something nagged at the bassist’s mind though, like he should have asked Die something but had forgotten to.
Before he could dwell further, the sound of Kaoru clearing his throat cut through the silence.
“….Is everything okay at the party?”
“Yeah.”
The hawk-faced man examined his partner from the corner of his eye. Toshiya continued to stare straight ahead.
…..Shit! Kyo --I should have asked if Kyo was there!
He almost flinched at the realization that he had stupidly forgotten to ask about the most important aspect of the evening. His jaw clenched as he debated calling the guitarist back; however, he knew doing so and asking that specific question would invite more apprehension from his already irritable boyfriend. And while Toshiya was firmly entrenched in the notion that he was beyond caring what Kaoru thought, he knew he wasn’t beyond an emotional hurricane that would ruin the evening before it even started.
The other man’s oblique watch wasn’t lost on him though, as he had been with his bandmate long enough to know all of his preferred nuances. He hated when Kaoru monitored him and didn’t think he could tell.
Kyo will come Toshiya, I know he will. That should be the last of your problems.
Determined, he changed the mental reinforcement.
It is the last of my problems.
Smoothly the bassist turned his head aside and looked directly at his lover.
“Yes, everything is going well,” he reiterated with a small half smile.
Kaoru looked back ahead, both hands planted firmly on the steering wheel. He, too, pulled his thin lips into a smile to counter his surveillance being disrupted. Toshiya’s strange behavior in the car and his natural cynicism lead him to believe that probably wasn’t the case, and even if it was, he hoped things didn’t stay that way for long. He was banking on the turbulent mix of guests to keep things from going too smoothly, although hopefully not so bad as to induce another one of the migraines he was forced to tolerate as of late. It would be worth it though, if only to take the spotlight off of a certain blonde.
“Sounds great.”
His smile widened.
Kyo didn’t deserve shit, and the sooner Toshiya realized that, the better.
~*~
Die exhaled while closing his eyes, thankful the phone call was over, even if it was short in its duration. He was no longer as initially calm about the evening they -- that Toshiya – had planned, and now that people were steadily showing up, the magnitude of the event wasn’t exactly easing his nerves. While he himself wasn’t exactly sure that Toshiya was any different than he should be given that his relationship was on the rocks for reasons unknown past accidental bruising, Shinya’s insistence and worry that something bad was going to happen involving their friend had him on edge too. At first it seemed, to him, that Toshiya just needed to vent some steam, as he and Kaoru had been together for a couple years now and the lifestyle change may be getting to him. The boy hadn’t exactly been the monogamous type, easily seduced by older, attractive men promising him a good time. The reality of settling down with Kaoru was probably finally hitting him and his current moodiness was just a way for him to get realization and acceptance off his chest. He knew that dedicating himself to Shinya was probably going to prove equally as alien to himself, so he sympathized with Toshiya’s plight. On top of that, even though the guy was his dear friend, dealing with Kaoru was probably a chore in and of its self. Kaoru had a rigid need for order and discipline in his life, and Toshiya’s preferred hedonistic ways were most likely a handful. And even if they weren’t, Die mused, getting used to Kaoru constantly putting a damper on things was bound to cause some temporary insanity at some point.
He grinned, realizing that he and Toshiya were very alike in some ways.
“I take it the smile means he’s acting okay?”
His own fair maiden stood beside him, and Die had almost blanked on reporting back to him. Shinya had watched the whole conversation with restless eyes, looking away only to greet new guests entering the hall. The dance hall staff, plus their own members who had agreed to sign onto the project for extra cash, had done an immaculate job of getting tables, lighting, the stage, and all other necessities ready according to Toshiya’s orders, so all the main work was out of the way. Now all that was left was successfully herding their peers into the dance hall, making sure the waitresses got their job right, making sure the performances went well, and last but not least, making sure no one, including Toshiya, killed or seriously maimed anyone else. Die was pretty sure the two of them could handle the first three tasks at hand, and hoped that the cheerful tone on the other end of his keitai meant no one in his band would be dying anytime soon. Just to be sure, he glanced around to find the few men standing as security in unobtrusive corners.
“What are you looking for? Is something wrong?” the brunette asked tersely after smiling and greeting the remaining members of Raphael. With a signal of his slender hand a roadie appeared to lead the band to their booth.
“Ah no, no it sounds like everything’s okay on their end. They’ll probably be here shortly.”
He could have sworn Shinya literally breathed a sigh of relief. The drummer only ever got this wound up before concerts, and it was weird for Die to observe such behavior without the presence of drumsticks being wrung.
“Okay, good. Are you ready to prep the waitresses? Or wait,” Shinya’s thin eyebrows furrowed in frustration, “Kaoru’s supposed to do that. Have you spoken to B’z yet?”
“Uhhh….,” came the sheepish response, and the brunette didn’t bother waiting for the rest of it. “Well go now, remember to be polite, and----”
Another group of men and women filtered in, younger kids neither of them recognized.
“Oh wow, this place looks spectacular! You guys must have worked hard,” one of the teens piped up. His arm around his shy loli girlfriend, Die refrained from rolling his eyes as he knew the boy was trying to impress her and his friends. He briefly wondered how the hell they’d got invited, but realized he had been given a task and Shinya’s urgent glancing at him confirmed it. Instead of waiting for his boyfriend to finish patiently answering their bewildered questions, he gave him a quick thumbs up and briskly walked off to find and address the much-revered band.
Okay Die, you can totally do this and impress Shinya with your ability to handle responsibility.
After pushing through the gathering crowd of attendants milling about the entrance and dance floor, the guitarist made his way quickly to the darker, quiet area behind the stage and near the dressing rooms. He whipped out a cheat sheet he had made himself of what he was supposed to do, when he was supposed to do it, and even a few phrases in overly formal Japanese he hadn’t used in so long he was afraid wouldn’t come out right. He’d even sketched his MC speech on the back of it in case he blanked on what he was going to say. All he had to do was make sure the bands knew what they were doing and handle the mike. Skimming over the list, he frowned when he saw “PLEASE TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY” scrawled in Shinya’s handwriting at the bottom. When the hell had he found his list?
Well, so long as he doesn’t find out what’s in the present bag, it’s all---
Vibration stirred in his pants pocket, indicating someone was texting him. He pulled the phone out of his pocket and flipped it open.
[K + T here/T = lie/PREP WAIT]
[<3 u/HELP]
Die grimaced.
Well it sure as hell wasn’t gravy anymore, that was much was certain.
~*~
“So you’re sure you’ve gone over everything? Die’s talking to the bands?”
Shinya repressed his urge to wince. Whatever act Toshiya’d put on over the phone was rapidly disintegrating as an irritable mania set in. He was glad he’d read his friend’s mood accurately the minute he’d stepped through the door and told Die to go to Plan B. He hoped desperately that his boyfriend remembered Plan B.
“Yes Toshiya, he is and I’m sure---”
“Where’s Kamijo?” the dark-haired beauty pressed.
“He called and he’s going to be here momentarily. His train---”
“Well we need him here now, as the bulk of the guests are just starting to arrive and we’re not paying him to not be here!”
The three Deg members were still standing in the entrance corridor, as Toshiya had begun grilling Shinya minutes after they stepped inside. He hadn’t even removed his coat yet, arms crossed tightly despite the bulk of fur surrounding them. Shinya looked to Kaoru, whose jaw clenching and tense shoulders indicated that his partner had been like this since the evening had started.
“I knew we never should have hired that washed-up idiot. He ruined his band and now he’s going to ruin Kyo’s party!”
The venom in his voice made Shinya look around uneasily, afraid that a guest may hear him talk in such a manner. Kaoru was already one step ahead of him, the older man placing a firm hand on Toshiya’s shoulder in attempts to let him know his behavior was getting out of hand. The drummer knew that if he was unsettled that Kaoru was probably near boiling point, as he was hyper-sensitive to the band’s appearance with strangers.
“Dear, calm down,” he said in an even tone, “Nothing’s burned down yet and Shinya’s doing a fine job at the door, so---”
“What do you mean ‘calm down’?!” Toshiya snapped, shrugging his lover’s hand off coldly. “It’s not like these aren’t important questions, and I don’t see why you’re even standing here when you’ve got your own duties.”
With that he turned his back on the guitarist like he hadn’t said anything at all.
“Shinya, do you have that loser’s number or what -- I’ll call him myself.”
The bassist proceeded to hold out his hand in expectance, Shinya trying his best to ignore the look of shock and anger on his other friend’s face while trying to mask his own astonishment. Luckily, and more importantly before Toshiya could spew anymore negative epithets, the blonde in question appeared beside them, gingerly shaking snow off his shoulders.
“Anooo…..are you looking for me?”
All three turned their attention to the soft-spoken young man in a tuxedo. A shade of livid red steadily crept up Kaoru’s neck as he realized Kamijo may have heard Toshiya’s ill choice of words and how completely unacceptable that would be. Kamijo didn’t seem to care if he had heard though, smiling politely and extending his hand in hopes that someone would shake it. Of course, if the Dir members weren’t so preoccupied with each others’ behavior, it could have been noted that Kamijo couldn’t handle any insult, real or imagined, without throwing a tremendous fit and calling upon ancient gods to smite his enemies. Any instance where he didn’t do so was cause for suspicion.
“Hi, I’m..Kamijo, ready to be of service.”
Shinya grabbed the proffered hand and began shaking firmly, sidestepping the bassist in-between them and launching into bows and friendly banter.
“Hey Kamijo, I’m Shinya and let me explain how we want things to work tonight.” He gestured towards the wooden stand with the guest book on it that he had been crossing names off of. “If you’ll just step over here behind the podium, I’ll show you the guest list…,” he turned to address his bandmates, one of who was still turning an ugly shade of crimson, and the other picking at his manicured fingernails in impatience. “Guys, feel free to go do what you need to – I think I have this covered.”
“Thanks.”
The word was tossed carelessly at the drummer and vocalist, pristine splendor already turning on a heel and marching into the ballroom. As soon as he made it through the double doors, a vice-like grip sank into his shoulder, turning Toshiya around against his will.
“What the hell is up with you?” Kaoru asked heatedly in a low voice. He wanted to draw his boyfriend further away from the guests but had to settle for vacancy beside the dance floor. “Did I do something?”
Makeup-laden eyes turned to him, answer flat and without skipping a beat.
“You mean besides smother me in front of all the cameras?”
Kaoru felt his grip loosening in surprise.
“What? I didn’t---”
“You’re the one always saying no PDAs when there are cameras around. What’s so fucking different tonight?”
The paparazzi had been voracious, making Kaoru second-guess the wisdom of letting them anywhere near the party, even if it was outside and for a specified duration. However, they hadn’t done anything the majority of guests showing up weren’t used to to begin with, and of all the things to set Toshiya off, cameras seemed the most unlikely. Normally he was the type to believe fervently in a “good side” and request a multitude of pics be taken of him on any outing. He’d even made the guitarist buy a camera phone to compensate for them going out and his phone possibly running out of power, an expense Kaoru had shelled out for only to keep his partner happy.
“Excuse me,” he retorted angrily, resisting the urge to motion with his hands, “I thought it was perfectly acceptable to have an arm around you, especially when you’re dressed like that to begin with. What the hell else are they going to think when we walk in together without the rest of the band?! And furthermore, when have you ever turned down fanservice?”
He must have said something wrong, because the manner in which Toshiya shoved his hand off his shoulder spoke of a strength the youth rarely exhibited outside of handling his bass.
“Dressed like what, Kaoru? Why don’t you tell me what all I’m dressed like so we can clarify your position here? Maybe then I’ll get a clearer picture of what it takes to get acknowledged as your partner when your parents show up.”
Flabbergasted, Kaoru almost stuttered in his attempts to respond to what he was hearing.
“Whoa, what the fuck do my parents have to do with anything?”
Toshiya nimbly removed his coat, folding it over his arms as he prepared to end the argument.
“I didn’t see you complaining about my attire when you started dating me, and I sure as fuck know you don’t complain when outfits like this pay your bills so you can take your goddamn fanservice and shove it.”
With last remark he turned around and ventured towards the stage dressing rooms, determined not to imagine the face he had left behind.
~*~
Six sets of heavily made up eyes peered back at Die expectantly. Make that seven, his mind noted, as one of the waitresses was accompanied by a friend. They varied in height as they had been given the leeway to bring their own shoes, but all were dressed up in the same frilly attire. Black maid outfits adorned their slim frames, complete with white satin aprons and cute headdresses perched atop their different hairstyles to make them easier to spot amongst a see of multi-colored heads. Their skirts were hemmed high but packed with copious amounts of white lace and ruffle shoved beneath in the form of a petticoat. Equally as adorable white stockings ran up their legs, black ribbon snaking up the backs and forming a bow at the backs of their thighs, snuggled amidst more fluffy white lace. There had been no requirements for hairstyles or accessories, so each waitress had put their own spin on their outfits. Each held a platter in front of their aprons modestly, or in the case of one of the waitresses, conveniently as he was leisurely smoking a cigarette. Die had also had to interrupt two of the youths from beating each other with the platters when he came into the room. But all in all they looked good, handsome even if one was so genderbendingly inclined. With a twinge of lust and a nosebleed, the guitarist imagined six Shinyas dressed in such a manner ready to wait on his every desire. He closed his eyes and focused on that for a bit to gather his wits so that he could emulate Kaoru’s leadership and not get blamed if the waitress ordeal backfired horribly.
“So are we gonna get this show started or what?” the smoking one asked in blatantly informal speech, cutting the fantasy short. Shinya never sounded that crass.
Die smiled nervously.
“Ah yes, so, uh, are there any questions?”
One of Psycho le Cemu’s guitarist’s, Aya, rose a manicured hand. Die didn’t really know the indies band, but he got the vibe that Aya was destined to be another Emiru with his pink hair and equally as pink nails. He’d been a last minute invite to work as a waitress when they realized five men weren’t going to cut it. The boy seemed happy to fill the role though, bright-eyed and cheery with his pretty pink smile and a shiny heart decal near his eye.
“I have one.”
If the room had been just a little bit darker, Die would have given into his fidgeting urges. Instead he shoved his hands in his pants’ pockets.
“Yes?”
“What are we supposed to be doing?”
Aya kept his smile, blinking long lashes as he waited for an answer.
The question made sense given that Die had yet to tell them anything, praying feverishly in his mind that Shinya or Toshiya had already given them instructions over the phone. Kaoru insisted he would be the one to direct the waitresses, as neither Shinya nor Toshiya would have time to according to the schedule and the unspoken assumption was that Die wouldn’t get the job right if it was left to him. Die was wont to say Kaoru was right, especially given that the boys were acting extensions of Dir en grey’s hospitality and needed to behave as so. He would have a hard enough time not making an ass of himself on stage, let alone directing six other guys not to do so. Kamijo no one was worried about; at this point it was his last chance to make a favorable impression on anyone left to form a band with him and odds were desperation would keep his mouth in check. The waitresses were supposed to be eye candy, but at the same time they had been chosen mostly from indies bands in hopes that their want to impress their more famous peers would make them behave in a favorable fashion. Ryutaro was the exception, his presence actually a request from Plastic Tree to help the young man overcome his social anxieties. They hadn’t attended an event in years and it was starting up the rumor mill none of them wanted to deal with. The bright side was that their vocalist never failed to elicit positive responses when he did show up somewhere, whether it be due to his irresistible looks or quirky personality, regardless of whether he could handle the attention or not. The band had made a pledge to each other (Ryutaro in a more normal state included) that if they ever wanted to make something larger of themselves, the boy was going to have to work on his disability.
“Actually,” the escort that Die now realized was Akira with less makeup started, “you may want to re-explain duties for Ryutaro’s sake too.”
He motioned for Die to come closer, leaning over and cupping his ear to whisper.
“The doctor said to triple his meds to get him through the night, but they nix his short term memory something fierce. He’ll be fine with a notepad for orders, but it’s best to repeat anything important a few times if you can.”
The redhead’s eyes went to the boy in question, his gaze focused on his bound feet as he moved the tips together and apart in a slow, rhythmic fashion. Die wasn’t sure this was the best of ideas if Ryutaro was mentally unstable, but at the same time, Akira had mentioned a doctor and the band had been together for some time so he figured they knew what they were doing by now. And if they didn’t, it was too late to do anything about it anyways.
Akira leaned back in before Die could respond.
“Oh, and if you or any of your bandmates see Sugizo hounding Tarou, could you try and interject? He’s been asking the poor guy to baby-sit for him and he’s been a little too….forward about it and now Tarou’s a little freaked out. And by a little I mean a lot so it’s in everyone’s best interest if it doesn’t happen, right?”
“Umm…right.”
Die had heard and knew for himself that the infamous guitarist was used to getting his way when he set his eyes on someone. It was a hard force to reckon with, and probably an impossible one if one wasn’t interested.
“What?!” Miyabi’s voice spiraled upwards in disgust, cigarette falling from his fingers so that he had to snub it with his foot. He’d been listening in with little regard to whether anyone wanted him to or not. “What the hell is that, complaining about Sugizo’s interest? He should be grateful. If Sugizo showed an interest in me, I sure as hell wouldn’t be rude enough to turn him down.”
Ryutaro stopped staring at his feet and looked up quickly, platter almost falling from his hands if his guitarist hadn’t grabbed it for him. His lips were parted and his breath started coming faster, eyes darting from Miyabi to everyone else, then to Akira, then back to Miyabi. A thin rim of water seemed to be gathering on his bottom lids.
“What a freak,” Due le Quartz’s guitarist added in contempt. He didn’t believe in special treatment unless it revolved around physical appearance, an area in which he had strived hard to excel. Ignoring the vocalist’s gaze, he plunged into his apron pockets for another cigarette.
“Well Sugizo hasn’t and wouldn’t show an interest in you, so you’re probably better off just shutting your mouth.”
The words came from Akira, who could tell by his friend’s behavior that Miyabi’s attacks were causing fret to claw its way through his SSRI haze. Plastic Tree had worked too hard as a whole for him to let some uppity youngster ruin it with undeserved spite. Ryutaro had shifted his bearing so that a few of his fingers clasped onto Akira’s pants’ leg for comfort. It didn’t help that two of the waitresses, men he didn’t recognize in any shape or fashion, were murmuring instigations in the background.
“Oh what’s this?” the pierced guitarist pressed, blowing freshly lit smoke in the face of unlucky Ryutaro who was caught between the two, “You think because I’m in a dress I can’t take you? You wanna try me jiji? At least I can take care of myself, unlike Mr. Too-Good-for-Sugi over here.”
Akira seemed stunned at the jiji reference and the fact that Miyabi had little enough respect for anything going on around him to pick a fight with his elder. Die decided now was a good point to step in before things got out of control, seeing as Itsuki and Yuna were now clamoring for a fight and trying to draw Aya into their ruckus. He didn’t have time for these antics right now; the party was starting soon.
He wedged his body in-between the clashing guitarists and put a hand on Miyabi’s arm for good measure. Die wanted to laugh at the absurdity of what was going on and the size of Miyabi’s balls, but instead strived to use his authoritative voice and a stern look the best he knew how.
“Miyabi, goddamn boy, cool your jets.”
Either he had lost interest in pursuing his threat or held some sort of respect for Dir that he didn’t for PuraTorii, as the cattiness relented to an extent and Miyavi launched into another tirade with his nose upturned.
“Sorry that I actually understand our mission here and want to get out and do my job already. I mean what the fuck, who hasn’t been a waiter at some point?”
There were uneasy glances amongst the other waitresses.
“Uh, we haven’t,” the S members responded simultaneously.
“I haven’t either,” Aya added.
Mariki from JILS shrugged. “I was for a little bit.”
Die had completely forgotten the other guitarist existed, his mannerisms serious and voice completely silent until now. Before he countered what he hoped not to be true, he took note that Mariki looked very much like the hot secretary at SHOXX that everyone straight wanted to bang but nobody had managed to yet.
“Wait, okay, wait,” the redhead touched his forehead briefly to concentrate, “I thought you guys said you’d all been waiters at some point? Wasn’t that what Toshiya asked you?”
Puzzled looks abounded and Die had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the answer. Aya raised a hand and spoke.
“I was asked if I could handle being a waiter, and I said yes, because I’m pretty sure I can. But no one’s told us where the bar is even yet, as we were ushered back here before guests started arriving.”
“We’ll do anything you say Die-san,” Itsuki piped up, hoping to soothe his concerns.
“Yeah,” Yuna added happily, “just tell us where to go and what to do like our other Dai does.”
The massive confusion in the air was starting to suffocate Die. If he didn’t come up with a solution to this mess soon and get on stage he didn’t want to imagine Toshiya’s reaction.
“Okay, someone give me their order pad.”
Mariki dutifully thrust his out first. Die pulled a pen out of his pocket and started sketching.
“This is what the layout of the place looks like.” He drew a large rectangle with indications of emergency exits and the entrance. “This is where the bar is,” he pointed to the left of the entrance and drew another rectangle, “and here is where the snack bowls can be refilled. Over here is where all the booths and tables will be, and where you’ll be spending most of your time.” He sketched lots of circles next to the bar doodle’s left. “Back here,” he indicated above the bar in the right corner, “is a karaoke area and the restrooms, and as the evening goes on, some people may drift back there so keep your eyes peeled. This,” he pointed below the table area and drew a large square, “is the dance floor, and this is the stage below it, and here we are now, behind the stage. Everyone understand that?”
There was a lot of nodding, as well as a lot of squinting due to Die’s messing handwriting and zigzagging arrows that were supposed to aid following his speech and instead were very distracting.
“Be polite to everyone,” he continued. “Please, for the love of the gods, be polite or Kaoru will throw a shit fit and you’ll have this band’s wrath on you forever. That includes you, Miyabi.” He looked pointedly to the black-haired guitarist who flipped his hand in dismissing acknowledgement. “If someone seems like their drinking is getting out of hand and their friends aren’t stopping them, take longer with their orders or request their drinks be watered down. If it’s really bad, tell a roadie or one of us to get security. We’ve only got so many drink types available, so I think you were given a list?”
More nodding and patting of apron pockets.
“Okay, and there’s a list on every table and lists at the bar so hopefully guests will look at those first. If people want snacks, just keep bringing them food until we’re out. Uhh….people are probably going to try and grope you at some point, and so long as it’s not obscene we were all already warned about this, right? If it gets too crazy, again, that’s what security’s for. Other than that, enjoy it I guess…..And if you have any more questions, just ask…..uhhh…”
He realized he was stretching it trying to answer one question, let alone more that may come up during the night. But Toshiya was too moody to handle helping them, Kaoru would probably seem the same way, Kyo wouldn’t help even if he wasn’t the birthday boy, and he had plans to have Shinya drunk within the hour.
“….ask Kaoru if he seems approachable, and if not, ask….there’s this guy who runs the place who should be around. He’s older and in a tux and is probably the only guy in the place who isn’t wearing some form of makeup. And he has a nametag on. So yeah, ask him.”
“Guy with nametag, got it.”
“So I gotta go ladies! Please do a good job as we’re counting on you and all that shit. I’ll mention you guys during my second take to the stage, so look cute when you hear me talk about waitresses and don’t make me look like an ass please.”
Everyone except Ryutaro, who was watching Akira slowly explain the layout again, and Miyabi, whose pursed lips indicated he had a biting remark he was trying to hold back, smiled and bowed with a resilient “Haaaaaaiiiiiiiii.”
“Oh and Miyabi?”
Die pulled the youth away from the group and glanced at his watch anxiously.
“I’m counting on you to explain the technicalities of balancing stuff and whatever other waiting issues may arise. Don’t mess this up and don’t cause a scene or so help me we’ll drag your names through the mud and you’ll never see the light of stardom. Is that clear?”
“Yes it’s clear Die-sama~”
He was surprised and a little unnerved by the smirk etched on the other man’s face. Apparently Miyabi liked being put in charge, which may or may not be foreboding. Die turned around to run and get his act into gear but Miyabi tugged on his hand impishly.
“Are you going to reward me if I do a good job?”
A pink tongue darted out and ran over his silver lip ring suggestively.
Die could only squeeze his hand turn back around, laughing as he waved good luck and walked quickly out of the room to make sure Shinya was handling his job of talking to B’z. Even if he had wanted to dish out that reward, Miyabi seemed the type to never let you forget it and he already had his hands full with one perplexing beauty. The image of Miyabi banging on his window, lightening silhouetting his wiry frame and scorned face made him shudder. Whoever wanted to deal with that had to be very young, or very stupid, and he counted himself as neither at this point, at least not while sober.
“Miyabi” and “solution” didn’t exactly go hand in hand, but he hoped for lack of a better plan that he hadn’t doomed the night’s events any worse than fate may have.
~*~
Kaoru was furious. So furious that he hadn’t been able to make more than a guttural choking of his tongue in response, eyes fixated on the slender back that swayed away from him. Their little interlude had happened just as an influx of guests poured in and things had started getting louder, a suppressed din of greetings and excitement at the evening to come washing over the hall. Everything assailed him at once as he watched his boyfriend walk away; that there was no denying people were actually coming to the event (a lot of them), that he had responsibilities he should be taking care of instead of standing there (yet he still stood there), that this elaborate party was for his rival (whom he hated), and that whatever security he felt previously in his relationship had been pulled from under him in a span of mere seconds (and it could possibly have to do with said rival). If he were in a movie he could imagine holding out his hand in attempts to touch the figure moving farther and farther away from him. Instead, he stood there dumbly, the previous red of his face having drained to a flimsy white.
There’s nothing you can do, his mind told him, not without sacrificing everything else that’s hinged on you. At most, you can apologize and try to smooth things over until you can get control of him again.
He nodded vaguely at that thought, dazedly looking around to see if anyone had noticed his conversation. No one within hearing distance was paying attention to his direction.
You’re supposed to be talking to the waitresses by now. The bands need checking on. There’s a lot to do, and you need to be doing it.
He heard that last phrase often in his mind. So often that it could be labeled a mantra of sorts.
Yes, I must be doing something…things to do, responsibilities…..
Normally the stress and apprehension of that line of thinking was enough to prompt him into action and smother whatever else his mind wanted to concentrate on. This time he couldn’t bring himself to act, or even move, pressure mounting every moment he stood there doing nothing. He couldn’t concentrate on anything other than Toshiya. Than his behavior. His precious anchor to sanity was rebelling against him and for once he didn’t have the answers.
Why is Totchi doing this to me? Why? Where is my lover? Who has taken him? Why is he treating me like this? Why won’t he listen to me? My Totchi, my Toshiya, my love, why has he turned against me?
The thoughts swirled endlessly in his head, dizzyingly spinning until he thought he may be sick. He could feel a sweat beading on his forehead, and it wasn’t from the overcoat he still had on.
“…Kaoru? Are you okay?”
His brain told his body to turn but the voice wasn’t Toshiya’s, and that’s all his senses could intake. Someone was walking around him, coming to his front to address him.
“I know it’s stressful but don’t worry, Die and I are covering your duties. You work so hard for all of us; we can cover things.”
It was Shinya, smiling a small smile and waiting for a reaction. Logic told him he was probably making his way back stage and came upon him, just like…
“Do you need some water? You don’t look too well….”
……….That ingrate has a part in this. Toshiya would never turn his back on me. He would never leave me. Someone is fanning those flames.
He looked up to meet the drummer’s concerned eyes.
“I’m fine. Where’s Kyo?”
The words had a barking effect, short and forceful. His gaze was piercing and Shinya was taken aback, but Kaoru was oblivious to the other’s worry.
“Kyo? Well, Kyo isn’t her---”
That was all the guitarist needed to hear.
“Take care of things Shinya. I’ll be back.”
~*~
Toshiya stared at his cell phone, willing it to ring.
He’d called Kyo five times, he hadn’t answered yet, and it was almost time for Die to get on stage. He’d already spoke with Shinya and the bands knew what they were doing, as well as the waitresses. Nearly all of the guests had shown up according to Kamijo’s list and Kyo’s presence was the last thing needed to get everything going smoothly.
Please Kyo, please please please don’t make me a liar after all I’ve set up for you…
Currently he stood in the empty male restroom, ketai clutched tightly in one hand as he looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it since that night, but worry and doubt were now besetting him.
Kyo has every right not to show up…he has every right to keep that as a fluke occurrence. As a “tease”. He threw it in my face and I deserve it because I’ve been no better….But it felt so real, so painfully good I don’t understand what it means….He’s never had a male beside him to begin with, why would he start now. And why would he start with me? I’m a whore and everyone knows it. Even my own lover thinks of me that way.
“Fanservice,” his mind echoed bitterly, enraged by the remark.
And yet something had happened that day, something bizarre and instinctual the young man couldn’t comprehend. The urge to lay beneath the blonde and let him do as he had seen fit had been so strong and
unrelenting it had frightened him. He had never felt such an impulsive need and to attach it to Kyo was mind-boggling for him. Yes, they had lived together for a short amount of time during their indies years. They had been friends to the extent that working together had dictated, and Kyo had always enjoyed Toshiya’s art, but most of their time had been consumed by work or partners. Toshiya had had many, and Kyo had only had one, but their bonds of inner thoughts and secret desires had lay with those people rather than each other. To think of Kyo in such a manner seemed like a fruitless undertaking to begin with, as he had always been negatively vocal about Toshiya’s sexuality when it was brought into the workplace and eventually outside of it as well. Toshiya, in turn, had assumed Kyo despised gays the same way he despised most everything else. Interpretations of jealousy or envy had never crossed anyone’s mind as Kyo was construed as the type to take what he wanted without pretences.
Maybe he’s never wanted a man aside from me.
The hopeful glisten in his eyes and the blush that quickly crested his high cheeks made Toshiya look away from the mirror abruptly, staring at the wall in shame for allowing himself to think such grade school thoughts. It had elated him, but not with the sense of conquest or satisfaction he normally derived from men falling prey to his charms. The thought alone felt innocent and pure, like he had lived and seen much less than he really had. He couldn’t remember the last time a man had made him feel that way. Even Kaoru, who was dear to his heart, was an endeavor that quickly buckled under the weight of pressures that fell far from blind love. He had always told himself that Kyo was quite repugnant, narrow-minded and mean-spirited. But when he took the time to sift through his memories -- something he rarely did and generally abhorred for reasons he wouldn’t face – that description didn’t fit his friend at all. Someone like that couldn’t have induced the trust necessary for him to gamble his whole life away to a band. Kyo had been kind to him when they had shared such a small space, and often sacrificed his own comfort for Toshiya’s. Why, then, had he chosen to ignore such things? Why had he taken to pigeon-holing him into something else?
Have I always felt this way about him, deep down? Have I lied to myself about it, afraid to face inevitable rejection?
It was thin ice he was treading on, these dangerous sensations that made his heart reach out to the other man like a moth to a flame. He felt it was too late to find comfort in Kaoru. Too late to try and go back to him, because he knew in his heart he didn’t want to. Leaving him earlier like he did had left him visibly shaking, all of his effort focused into delaying his physical reaction until he was alone and no one could see. No, Kyo wasn’t responsible for that, and no one would understand, especially not his violet-haired lover. Comparisons would be drawn though, and if Kyo weren’t to reject him, if he came tonight and wanted more from Toshiya than he had accepted that day, the whole band could fall apart.
And it would be my fault, for dating those I work with. But, I never wanted it to end. I’m not the one…
He swallowed hard and turned his back on the wall of mirrors completely, choosing to stare at the stall doors instead. His heart knew where that thought was going and the crushing pain he felt wasn’t something he’d be able to dwell on if he wanted to make this party work. All he wanted was for something in his life to go right for once besides his musical talent. Just to hear it was going to be okay, a security blanket he could wrap himself up in for all of eternity and doze off.
Again, he found himself staring at his phone.
~*~
“Ugh Die this is all too weird, what with a friendly Kamijo and Toshiya and Kaoru at each others throats and Kyo not even here on time and— ”
Shinya looked like he was about to lose his mind, breath not able to keep up with his tongue. His boyfriend was trying to calm him down the only way he knew how, Shinya’s thin arms tightly wrapped around him and slowly crushing his ribcage out of concern.
“Here sweetheart, there there, calm down.” He pulled back from the drummer and offered out his hand. “Look, I brought you a drink with an umbrella in it. Does that make you happy?”
A weird smile crossed Shinya’s features as he battled between berating Die for the alcoholic implications behind fixing problems with drink and the realization that Die was just being Die, trying to fix things however they made sense to him.
“Huuuuuh? Little umbrella for my princess?”
The redhead plucked it from the drink and twirled it between his fingers as he brought it closer to place behind Shinya’s ear. His wide smile was hard to resist, even if the last thing Shinya wanted to deal with right now was paper umbrellas getting stuck in his hair.
“Or would you rather I wear it?” he asked, changing his tune. “Huh? I could wear it out on stage if you wanted me to. Wouldn’t that be funny? You could write your name on it, or ‘Die is gay’ or ‘Deg sucks’ or ‘Kyo phone home’ or something, whatever you wanted and I’d still wear it.”
Shinya laughed, his boyfriend a complete cheeseball when he felt the need to be.
“Ah ha! See, you can still smile, so don’t worry so much! Here,” he pushed the glass into the brunette’s hand, “try and drink a little to relax and you’ll realize you’re getting as bad as Kaoru. You don’t want to be an old man walking around in an old man’s body, do you?”
“He so doesn’t have an old man’s body,” Shinya refuted, but laughed again.
“That’s more like it. See, what’s the worse that can happen anyways?”
“That you have 5 minutes before your MC intro and our guest of honor is so full of himself he hasn’t bothered to show up yet?”
The smiles on their faces lessened as the man they were just joking about stood beside them.
“Oh..hey Kaoru,” Die greeted awkwardly.
“Well? Has anyone heard from him? Where is he?”
Die and Shinya didn’t bother exchanging glances, as neither had an answer and if Kaoru had heard Die’s joke he seemed too preoccupied to care.
“I’m sure he’ll show up Kaoru,” the guitarist assured, “you know Kyo. He probably overslept or something and is almost here as we speak. Right Shinya?”
“Yes, that’s like Kyo.”
Kaoru snorted.
“Like him to be a fucking jackass you mean. I can’t believed we busted our backs getting all this ready and he isn’t even here yet. We shouldn’t have even bothered.”
The shorter man walked over to the entrance to the stage and peered around a curtain. He came back looking even tenser.
“I hope you two remember this event the next time he complains about anything, ever. It’s time for you to go out there Die; everyone’s seated.”
Die nodded uneasily. “What am I supposed to say? Act like he’s here? Not mention him? What?”
“Just…,” Kaoru shut his eyes and furrowed his brow to choose one of the many plans he’d been contemplating up until this point, “act like he’s here, then when you try and point him out we’ll say he’s in the restroom or something and they can laugh it off. Then if he doesn’t show up by the next time you get up there, we’ll lie and say he’s come down with something and has to leave. No one’s here because they care about him anyways – they’re here so they can look good in front of everyone else.”
“Ahh, okay, I can do that I guess.”
Die didn’t like when Kaoru was extremely pissed. If he had been loathing getting on stage tonight, now he relished the chance if only to escape his fury. The shorter guitarist turned and signaled for a staff member milling about in the background.
“Ojima-san? Cue the lights. Tell B’z they’re on in 6.”
The man nodded dutifully, grabbing a walkie-talkie from his belt and speaking into it. The area behind the stage they were standing in got even darker as the main lights were turned off and the spotlights for the stage turned on.
Kaoru placed a steady hand on his friend’s back and pushed.
“Now get out there and don’t embarrass us.”
Die tried to smile and blew Shinya a kiss, if only to let him know he wasn’t the only one nervous. Shinya waved sedately, unable to muster much more, predicting that –
“Where’s Toshiya?”
--Kaoru was going to turn on him next.
“A-,” he cleared his throat as his voice caught, “apparently watching a window in the karaoke area to see if Kyo’s car pulls up.”
“Hnn.”
That didn’t sound to Shinya as if the response had made Kaoru any happier. The noise of the mike being handled on stage honed his focus away from the drummer.
“Ladies and gentleman,” Die could be heard saying on the other side of the curtains, “may I please have your attention~”
Shinya nearly jumped at the vibration in his back pocket. He pulled out his phone and quickly flipped it open, the message within sending waves of relief over his rigid body.
“Kaoru, Toshiya says he just saw Kyo making his way to the entrance.”
“What?” Kaoru exclaimed loudly, unaware of the volume of his voice. “He’s here?”
“Konbanwa! First let me thank you for all showing up,” Die’s voice boomed on the mike, “I know the weather isn’t at its most pleasant tonight so we truly thank you for you attendance.”
“Of all the times to show up, right in the middle of the fucking intro.”
“What should we tell Die?” Shinya asked with concern. “Can we call him back here or is it rude?”
“We’ve got various entertainment lined up for tonight and a reputable DJ here to fill the gap between performances, so feel free to dance at whim ne.”
Kaoru frowned further, a loud round of applause making it hard for him to concentrate.
“Try and call him from the side, or signal to him. Where’s a staff member?!” the guitarist growled, looking around him in the dark quickly. But all the staff was either out on the floor, working the technicalities of the stage, or helping B’z get ready.
Shinya walked right beside the curtains and began whispering loudly to get Die’s attention like he’d been told.
“Die, over here. Die, over here!”
“For our first----”
The guitarist stumbled over his speech, realizing too late that he was launching into the wrong part and Kaoru was possibly yelling at him from the side of the stage. He kept thinking he heard something, but was too nervous to focus on anything other than talking.
“What I meant to say was,” he began again, “as you all know, tonight’s festivities would be in honor of our, um, beloved vocalist Kyo.”
“Die over here! Change in plans!” Shinya cried as loud as he dare, the roar of many hands clapping working hard to drown him out. He began shaking the curtains a bit out of desperation, hoping a staff member on the floor would point behind Die or somehow he would get the picture.
“DIE!”
“Kyo, why don’t you---Ah, I’m sorry about this folks,” the guitarist said anxiously, bowing as he sidestepped his way offstage quickly.
“What the hell is going on? Did I do something wrong?” he whispered frantically, but was thankful for the sight of his boyfriend rather than his leader.
“Kyo just showed up and he should be coming through the doors any second, so change the speech!”
Someone yelled something from the dining area, and Die thrust his hand back into view to signal for one more moment.
In response something else was yelled and the redhead worried he was somehow losing the crowd despite having barely said anything yet.
“So what do I do? Tell me!”
His head turned back towards the crowd, as he could have sworn someone in a Kansai accent yelled that he sucked. A thought flittered through his mind that it may have been Yasu, as their paths had crossed earlier and he made sure to throw him a dirty look, but he couldn’t imagine why he’d yelled it then specifically.
A snap of fingers brought his attention back and Kaoru was now standing beside Shinya, a dour expression on his face.
“We’ll put a spotlight on him and act like we planned all this. Introduce him like you were going to earlier.”
With a shove he was pushed back onto the stage, only to be greeted by a chant of “We want Shinya! We want Shinya!” Disoriented and caught off guard by the fact that a good majority of the audience was now requesting the presence of his shy boyfriend, Die scanned the crowd for a few seconds in bewilderment. Someone at a booth was saying something and pointing, and other guests were following his finger or looking around on their own accord amongst heavy murmuring. Everyone’s line of sight was drawn to the entrance doors, as a lone figure was fast approaching and pushing though them. He was about to try and put an end to the juvenile chanting until he saw what the commotion was over for himself.
“Kyo!” Die suddenly yelled in surprise and then covered his mouth, realizing he’d shouted into the mike. A part of him didn’t really believe the blonde was going to show up, but there he was, bundled in fur and hidden underneath sunglasses and an array of piercings. The vocalist’s name echoed throughout the hall as he looked up at the stage where his bandmate stood.
“How about a big round of applause for the birthday boy!” Die cried, extremely relieved as he walked closer to the front of the stage and gestured towards the entrance. There was a momentary pause of confusion and consultation amongst the guests, who eventually decided to clap anyways as that’s what they’d been instructed to do. As promised, a spotlight suddenly flared and focused in on the small figure, applause deafening alongside the blinding light. Kyo stopped walking and froze, nowhere to hide as everyone in the entire hall was focused on him. Die began clapping happily with everyone else and wondered just how pissed Kyo was at having a spotlight on him and how happy Kaoru must have been about it behind the stage. None of it mattered to him at this point, as he wouldn’t be forced to come up with speeches on the fly and that made him very content. He had already zoned out by the time Toshiya appeared next to Kyo, taking a hold of one of his arms and covertly moving him away from the entrance.
“So let’s begin tonight’s lineup!” Die continued, smile a little more genuine now that he wasn’t going to get torn to shreds by the rest of his band. “I’m proud to present the first band of the night, B’z!!”
Another set of curtains were drawn behind him to reveal mikes, speakers, drums and other instruments of a good time already set up and waiting to be played. Koshi and Tak strolled onto the stage with wide grins and waving hands, Die holding out his arms to put the emphasis on them and make his escape amidst a flurry of claps and bows. When he made it back into the darkness beyond, his shoulders sagged as he let out a long breath of release.
Shinya came to him, a heartfelt squeeze on his shoulder letting him know the drummer was proud of him.
“Hey sexy,” he replied with a kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. “Is that still the same drink?”
He looked at the glass Shinya was holding in his hand. An umbrella hung off the side haphazardly.
“Oh this? No, I asked a staff member to get me another one of whatever the umbrella drink was.”
Looking at the drink alongside Die, he suddenly took a large gulp and held it up for the guitarist to do the same. Die looked at him quizzically then took a large swig himself.
“What’s the occasion?” he teased, but Shinya didn’t seem quite as merry.
“You do realize we have to go greet Kyo now, right?”
He paused for another sip.
“And Toshiya will be with Kyo, and Kaoru is looking for Toshiya, so he will inevitably be there too.”
Shinya took another sip, and Die realized for the first time he’d met the man that he was purposely trying to get drunk.
“And, in case I didn’t mention it earlier, we will be stuck in the middle of it.”
Before he could bring the glass to his lips again, Die gently pried the drink away from him and downed the rest himself.
~*~
The brightness of the spotlight felt like it had seared a sunspot into Kyo’s eyelids. He could barely see who had come to fetch him, or where they were going. All he felt was five fingers sunk into his coat arm, pulling him away from the many people who had bellowed before him moments ago. Die had stood on the stage like a red-feathered turkey, hair fanned behind his head as he had announced his sudden arrival incompetently to the world. He was tired, much like he was always tired, and the size of this spectacle didn’t change that. More than once, he had convinced himself not to show up, but something kept tugging at his insides with an insistence he eventually relented to. The weather was foul by the time he called a cab and he’d been too lazy to dress up, even if the address on the card indicated a place of some notoriety. Dressed in a designer t-shirt with a thin jacket thrown over and jeans to match, he’d thrown some gel in his hair, slicked it back, lined his eyes quickly and then decided sunglasses were a better idea to begin with. He had no idea how he looked and didn’t really care. It wasn’t as if anyone besides Toshiya was going to be concerned with him, and that in itself wasn’t a certainty in his mind. The pessimist within him was sure the bassist had lost whatever interest in him by now and was probably back to his usual antics with his idiot boyfriend. He hadn’t seen any of his bandmates since Toshiya had come to give him the invitation – they’d initially contemplated touring around this time but he had asked management for a leave of absence to work on new music. Of course, he hadn’t worked on anything, but no one had complained or asked to see what progress he may have accomplished. He’d spent his days until the party getting drunk anyways, wishing he knew someone in the mob so he could land something harder. That hadn’t happened, but he felt a bleak detachment from the world at this point that mimicked whatever haze he could have induced artificially.
The taller figure stopped leading him and turned around, a gentle smile on his face.
“Thank you for coming, Kyo.”
His small eyes adjusting to the darkness beside the bar faster than the previous blaring light, Kyo looked up and over the rims of his glasses at his escort. The sight of Toshiya dressed so intricately was something he hadn’t seen for a long time either. It almost made him uncomfortable to gaze upon him, his appearance vexing in its perfection and taunting to one as far from beauty as himself. He couldn’t say anything as his eyes drifted over skin and leather, eventually looking to blood red lips that cried out to his thirst. Sparkles glinted off of the boy’s eyes and shoulders, the naked skin there dusted with glitter or playing tricks on Kyo’s eyes. Eventually it occurred to him that he should take off his sunglasses, even if he risked betraying his detachment through hungry eyes. Slowly he pulled them away from his face. The two stared at one another, speechless under the onslaught of ineptness and lust that swirled about and teased them both.
The blonde made a noise of acknowledgment in the back of his throat. He wanted to look away from that wonderful face and the kind eyes that resided there.
“May I take your coat?”
He realized then there was a tremble in Toshiya’s voice, a quickness to his breath that spoke of hesitance he was used to hearing from Shinya. Briefly he wondered if he was dreaming again, the party far off in another time. There was an ache in his chest, a dull throbbing that wanted this desperately to be a path for redemption.
Kyo nodded, moving to shrug off the fur monstrosity. He couldn’t, however, look away from those enticing crimson lips.
“Let me,” he heard as the bassist leaned towards him, hands slipping between his shoulders and the coat. A moment hung between them as the nearness of their bodies spoke to each. Toshiya’s hands pushed the fur away slowly, a thumb brushing past the blonde’s neck and betraying the quiver in his normally steady fingers. It almost felt as if the youth was going to fall into him, but instead of revulsion the notion pleased Kyo. No one had touched him so in a long time, and perhaps they both realized this, as Toshiya had to avert his eyes halfway through the motion. Warily he wondered if this was merely coincidence, pulling his arm out of the coat and letting Toshiya pull the rest away from him.
He scanned the crowd for Kaoru, or other members of their band. When Toshiya sat gingerly on a bar stool he followed suit.
“I know it’s a lot of people, but we wanted something you would remember.”
His eyes went to the stage, where a band was performing a tune he recognized. Most of the guests seemed to be enjoying themselves, many cheering or singing along.
“…Is that B’z?”
Toshiya followed his gaze to the sight of Koshi enthusiastically belting out their new single.
“Yeah.” He looked back at Kyo, whose expression was unreadable. “Is that okay?” he asked, suddenly feeling very awkward.
“How did you get them here?”
“Well, it was Die’s idea and we asked around and worked something out…and here they are,” he finished on a higher note and a lopsided grin, hoping the name alone impressed his friend into recognizing there was major effort behind tonight’s event.
Kyo wanted to ask if they had known beforehand that the party was for him specifically. He had a hard time believing any famous group would volunteer to perform for the likes of him. When he looked away from the stage and back to the bassist’s face, his earnest expression made him smile against his better judgment. Encouraged, the boy continued.
“We’ve got Cascade and Buck-Tick performing too.”
More so than B’z, Buck-Tick struck a chord within the blonde. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, like many of his peers Kyo held a deep respect for the aging band and all they’d accomplished without the help of mainstream media. Hearing that they would be playing at his party was a shocking surprise and no small feat of arrangement on his bandmates’ end. He could tell Toshiya was scanning his face for any further signs of pleasure, making him wonder if there was a chance he was capable of sincerity. His actions were beginning to speak louder than words that Kyo only fantasized about hearing.
“That’s crazy,” was all he could mumble, almost embarrassed by the fawning gaze directed at him.
“It is, isn’t it?” The words timidly blurred into a laugh Toshiya was known for, a hiccupping giggle that most females were turned off by if they ever thought they had a chance to begin with. It was childish and almost aggravating to the ears, and Kyo had always noticed it seemed to embarrass Kaoru if his laughing went on for too long. He hadn’t heard the noise in so long that he found it oddly endearing, reminiscent of when they were younger and less at odds with each other and everything else.
Toshiya realized Kyo wasn’t laughing, merely grinning in the same fashion he had been earlier. Self-conscious that he let tension influence his behavior too much, he made an effort to return to a smile and mannerism that left room for Kyo to express himself.
“So long as it doesn’t bother you..,” he added meekly, focusing his attention on the fur coat covering his lap and then the stage. He didn’t see that the blonde watched him closely, tasting his every movement with his eyes. If Toshiya wasn’t serious, he was doing a very good job of impersonating someone wanting to impress and waiting for approval. Kyo wanted to counter that comment, to let him know he was astonished at what the youth had pulled together in his honor. He didn’t know how to explain those feelings given the situation. If they were alone, it would have been so easy to thank him, but Kyo was very aware that even in the dim light people were watching with expectations that put him in his place. Toshiya wasn’t his to touch or reassure.
….Nothing is mine except these hideous scars.
The thought beat his frail ego down again.
Debased and dirtied, I can’t clutch anything.
But when he stared at those parted lips he wanted to be defiant, to feel wild and uncontrollable and unfettered by the needs and wants of those around him. Empowered as only the crowd could will him to be, in a manner that couldn’t coexist with reality, only the suspension of performance. It had been so long since he had sang that the passion for such unbridled revelry had dwindled to the back of his soul. The sight of such surreal temptation, the maddeningly beautiful tormentor from his dreams sitting poised to serve him, brought back the bite of the fiend within that drove him with fervor to sing and scream. Clawing its way to the front of his brain and senses, the flood of adrenaline was so quick that Kyo spoke Toshiya’s name as a forewarning to his instinct to grab his arm. Fortunately the sound of his voice deep within his mind stopped him from grabbing the bassist, Toshiya looking at him with a tentative smile from being addressed.
I want to possess your every twitch and breathe into your veins….if you come to me I will tear into your belly and pin you to the floor regardless…a fatal mess, a feast I’d consume with utmost reverence and care…..dining endlessly, forever devoted to watching your subsistence pulsate…haunting androgynous creature…
“Kyo?”
His dark-haired friend shifted under the intense scrutiny, fighting the blush rising to his cheeks. It was so perfect watching Toshiya squirm for him that he almost didn’t want to speak, keeping him trapped within discomfort for his own vicious pleasure. Languor set upon him as he wrestled with his next words, words that had to be perfect lest his delicate admirer be scared away. Unfortunately, Kyo didn’t have a chance to reassure his friend that he was pleased with his effort, even if the final product meant little to him.
“Hey! There’s our birthday boy!”
Die’s voice cut through his contemplations cleanly, severing his concentration and ultimately pushing his grin back into a blank expression. A glance at Toshiya assured Kyo that the bassist was equally displeased with being disrupted, his posture growing stiff and a default expression of boredom taking over his handsome features.
The vocalist turned around in his bar stool, wishing he still had his sunglasses on so the onslaught of Die’s white smile didn’t seem so harsh. He looked like he had been about to squeeze Kyo on the shoulder but had thought better of it at the last moment, his body standing too near the stool for Kyo’s comfort. Shinya stood an arm’s reach behind his boyfriend, careful not to seem overtly fond of the other man in case it upset Kyo’s senses, and wise enough to know crowding him never made any situation better. He hadn’t seen either of them since he punched Die in the gut at practice, and they were both equally as clueless when it came to anything regarding his life as they had been before he turned on Die.
“Hi Kyo. Happy birthday.”
Shinya smiled and bowed a bit, Die echoing his sentiment with an clumsy nodding of his head. While he had allowed himself to feel gratification with the former exchange of pleasantries, the presence of unwanted guests (which was more of a reminder given that he cared little for anyone in the building, bandmates included) was quickly souring his disposition. Even without trying to be obnoxious, Die’s visage reminded Kyo of his permanent humiliation all over again, and his mind could no longer focus without such disgrace blurring his thoughts. He could tell both of them were moments away from launching into “hisashiburi” comments if he didn’t speak up; he didn’t want to hear such bullshit. He knew they’d been happier not having to deal with him.
“Hey,” he murmured back. Faced with the alternative of turning his back on them or continuing to stare until his politeness quota was filled, Kyo opted for the latter. It was his birthday party after all, and he’d be damned if he didn’t force them to deal with him after ruining the only thing he wanted.
The two stood by silently, Shinya looking to Toshiya for a cue to leave or launch into friendly banter. When he realized Toshiya was surveying the crowd and giving him little opportunity for eye contact, he took decisive action.
“We’re so glad to see you tonight. You seem in good health.”
His words were soft and respectful, a hint of truth to them unmistakable, as Shinya was indeed grateful that Kyo had arrived. While things may not go perfectly with the five of them together after such a tumultuous parting, he felt it was inevitably better than what could have happened without their singer. He wasn’t willing to risk a lucrative career over petty drama and Die had been thoroughly lectured to forgive and forget as well.
“Yeah,” the redhead piped up, “you look good man.”
Kyo eyed the guitarist hard. At some point he had really liked Die and his wild antics and sense of humor. Now he was just as grating on the nerves as their other guitarist, and Kyo would have preferred not to have to deal with him tonight when things otherwise seemed to be going in his favor. Before Die could elaborate (or consequentially anger Kyo further), a group of three men wandered up next to Shinya.
“Hey guys, great party!” a friendly voice interjected over classic B’z.
The one speaking was vaguely unfamiliar to Kyo, but he stepped forward further, coming up beside Shinya in an affable fashion. When he looked at the other two behind him, the sight of such a striking blonde figure reminded him that this was part of Hakuei’s band, Penicillin. Dressed in both outrageous and provocative gear the older man was hard to miss even if he stayed in the background. While he wasn’t sure what the guitarist’s name was, he was sure the bassist hanging beside him was called Gisho, as Hakuei was invited to everything and rarely attended events without him.
Taken by surprise, Shinya turned to address the stranger.
“Chisato-san! How nice to see you,” he exclaimed with a smile.
“It’s been too long!” the other man countered, easily maneuvering the brunette into a sweeping embrace that, while it may have startled Shinya, wasn’t rejected.
Kyo’s focus had initially been on Shinya, as he was the more tolerable of the unwanted company. Now he couldn’t help but look at Die, whose mannerisms had changed the instant the drummer had been crushed by Chisato’s embrace. If something had happened between the two of them during his absence, the brief look on Die’s face thoroughly disclosed that fact. He wasn’t aware Shinya knew anyone from Penicillin to begin with, but there was nothing to be jealous about unless you were hoarding his flesh as your own.
“And happy birthday Kyo-san,” Chisato said with another smile, grip loosening on Shinya to bow a bit.
“Yes, happy birthday,” Hakuei added with his own grin, stepping forward between Die and Shinya to be seen. He waved at Toshiya warmly and Gisho did the same, adding his birthday wishes as well. “Impressive shindig you have here…I take it your lovely bassist helped arrange this?”
By now Gisho had wedged himself beside Hakuei and Chisato, effectively isolating Shinya within his band’s clutches. The brunette didn’t seem to mind, Chisato’s arm still casually hanging on his waist, but Die’s eyes seemed like they were going to leap out of his head and strangle the other man if possible. Kyo made a mental note to find out if the two were officially fucking or what, but had to suppress a smirk at his friend’s distraught features and miserable attempts to conceal them. He looked back to Hakuei, wondering if the compliment was implying further interest in said bassist or if his own was enough to satiate his appetite tonight.
“Un,” he began, voice catching in his throat as a hand settled on his shoulder. Turning his head briefly he was glad to be met with white leather peeking into his peripheral vision. Toshiya now stood behind him, the heat of his body pressed against his small back. “My…lovely..bassist did help arrange this.”
Hakuei wasn’t looking at him while he answered the question though, his gaze fixed on the figure standing behind him instead. He felt Toshiya’s hand slowly slide down his shoulder to rest on his hip in a manner indicative of an intimacy that didn’t exist. Against his will his blood stirred in anticipation. He hoped, even if nothing occurred between himself and Toshiya, that Kaoru caught wind of this.
“I’m sure his lovely drummer helped too,” he heard Chisato add with a laugh and countered with much modesty on Shinya’s end. Kyo didn’t bother to look, more interested in Hakuei’s response.
The taller blonde smirked in understanding and winked at Deg’s bassist.
“Well,” he started, apparently unfazed, “we just wanted to give the birthday boy our well wishes and steal your drummer for a bit. O-jiro has some questions for him. You don’t mind, do you?”
Kyo blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t just imagining the drink that had somehow made its way into Shinya’s hand. He was happily conversing with Chisato and Gisho about the differences between some drum sets he’d never heard of, but they seemed fascinated by. Die, on the other hand, had lost his trademark smile altogether and kept trying to interject to no avail. He was tapping his foot anxiously and that was all the help Kyo needed in deciding.
“Of course not.”
A compelling smile lit up the tattooed beauty’s face.
“You know Kyo, I didn’t realize we had so much in common…maybe sometime you should call, and we can play.”
Even though he had no interest in the other vocalist whatsoever, the proverbial phrase sent a small shudder down his spine. Hakuei, much like Toshiya, oozed sexuality, but with a distinctively predatory flare that could be felt simply from his enunciation.
“Gisho,” he murmured, the long-haired bassist immediately attentive and turning around to listen further. With a fluid movement of his wrist, Hakuei reached up and gently tucked some of the onyx strands behind his partner’s ear. “Let’s go meet Jiro, shall we?”
The bassist nodded and spoke to Chisato, the three all turning to leave with Shinya in tow.
Frustrated, Die spoke up louder to stop the inevitable.
“Shin-chan, we still have to---”
“It’ll just be a few minutes Die, I’ll be back.” He took a large sip of the new drink in his hand, furtively placed there by Gisho. “Don’t worry so much~”
“Yeah, we’ll take good care of him so no worries,” Chisato added while placing his hand on Shinya’s back to guide him along. With a small wave the drummer was gone, lost amidst distraction and a severe lack of tension that suited him just fine.
Die literally bit his lip, unnerved to see his coveted princess being escorted by men other than himself. Maybe Chisato didn’t think he knew what was on his mind, and maybe in a less hormonal and booze-infested world that wouldn’t be on his mind, but Die didn’t want to leave any of it to chance. He didn’t know how Hakuei and Gisho rolled either; he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out given that they were both incredibly attractive, and Gisho had straight teeth to boot. Now antsy and using all of his of self-control not to go running after the group, it occurred to Die that he was left behind to talk to his bandmates.
Completely oblivious to anything that had been going on behind him, Die turned around to see Toshiya standing dutifully behind Kyo in a manner that unsettled him further.
“Well, uhhhhhh…,” his eyes trailed to where Toshiya’s hands resided, sure that he had to be mistaken about his posturing, “..it was great to see Hakuei again, wasn’t it?”
Kyo stared at him impassively, the bassist behind him echoing his disinterest.
Shit Toshiya, throw me a fucking bone here, his mind lamented, utterly unsure of what to say or do, and also afraid of what could happen if Kaoru were to show up. Shinya had assured him that he would do the talking with their volatile vocalist and leader.
Of course nothing would happen, he reprimanded his brain, because I’m not witnessing anything different than I normally do. Just same old grumpy Kyo and crazy Toshiya…
Crazy Toshiya, who’s leaning over Kyo…like he wants to..kiss him…even though I’m standing here…
And without a doubt the bassist was perched over the blonde’s shoulder in a fashion that wouldn’t seem out of place had he been doing it to any member save Kyo. In response, Kyo had his head turned upwards at an angle, separating their lips by a span of inches. Die knew exactly what he would be doing to Toshiya in that situation -- the same thing Kaoru would, Hakuei would, and any other man who found feminine-looking men attractive in the least.
“Kyo, let me get you a drink. Would you like a beer, or..?”
He strained to hear what Toshiya was saying, drink the only word he heard entirely clearly. Kyo, perhaps conscious that they were being watched, reached up and placed a hand on the side of Toshiya’s neck so that he could speak directly into his ear. His answer was lost on Die, but Toshiya had smiled and declared to Kyo he would be back soon, his sentiment reinforced by a touching of the back of Kyo’s hand Die had never seen anyone do to the man before. In a moment he was lost in the sea of people milling around near the functioning end of the bar.
Die badly wished his boyfriend was present, as he was now left alone with Kyo and exceedingly uncomfortable. He had no idea what the hell was going on between his coworkers and tonight didn’t seem like a great night to find out. Kaoru’s accusation that Toshiya had more interest in the small-statured man than himself had seemed laughable to him at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. If it was true, the notion only made him panic further, because if Kaoru could lose his boyfriend so quickly to someone he’d never considered a menace before, he was positive Shinya could be lost just as easily to more striking specimens than himself.
Must attempt small talk. No more thinking. Thinking hurts.
“So….how do---”
“Are you and Shinya fucking for real now?”
The words stunned the redhead into silence. Kyo pulled a cigarette out of his case and lit up while waiting for an answer.
Candlelight flickered in delicate modern sconces at the back of the bar, making for a warm glow that glinted off Kyo’s facial piercings amidst swirls of smoke. Having lost a few pounds and taking poor overall care of his health for the past few weeks, his eyeliner and gelled hair gave him an almost strung out appearance in the light, making Die vaguely recall what all he’d said to get such a nasty punch. Something was clearly haunting the man, and for a minute, as angry as Die wanted to be that he was being blunt and difficult, he wondered if Shinya hadn’t been right that they had been overboard in their cruelty. Toshiya was tending to Kyo with a neurosis that begged forgiveness, and he had wondered if he should be exhibiting the same kind of attitude. Yet he felt something was off on all sides, that they were all mired in some kind of chaos that kept any truth from settling and clearing their heads. No one’s behavior made sense to Die, simply because there were so many holes in the overall picture he couldn’t make ends meet. At one time, he could have asked Kyo what had gone on between him and Kirito, or if he was trying to break up his friends. Now all he felt he could do was try and form a response that wasn’t a string of expletives.
“What? Shinya and I have always---”
“Been lovers?” Kyo snorted. “Don’t kid yourself – I know you were getting him drunk and taking advantage of him.”
The small amount of liquor that had given Die pause in his previous response now made him flustered and impatient with having the truth flung at him at such an inconvenient time. When Kyo said it it sounded so wrong, but if he hadn’t done it Shinya would have never given him the time of day.
And where does he get off challenging my morals? He wasn’t exactly fending Toshiya off in his homo advances.
“I-I was not,” he stuttered angrily. “I was just making sure he got home safe, that’s all.”
His excuse sounded weak even to his own ears, but he hadn’t exactly planned on dealing with any accusations or keen insight tonight. Kyo wasn’t impressed, dour expression unchanging as he leisurely smoked.
“Whatever. It’s still despicable and you know it, so have fun beating off all the other lowlifes with the same idea in mind.”
Striking a nerve again, Die could only continue his defense.
“What do you mean? No one--”
“Don’t be an idiot Die,” the blonde interrupted again. “If Chisato doesn’t molest him, Hakuei and Gisho will probably tear him apart. And if they don’t, someone else will.”
By now the guitarist was beside himself, trying to control his indignation and the dread threaded through it. He wanted to just smack Kyo in the face to shut him up, to end his realist taunting in a satisfying crunch. If they didn’t work together he would have done just that. No one referred to his lover in such a manner, and the imagery Kyo had conjured made him feel ill. He knew he was supposed to be civil, but Die had a bad feeling tonight was going to test his limits.
The redhead waited to see if his counterpart had anything more to say, and when he didn’t, he felt it was time to prod equally as brazenly.
“….So what makes you an expert on all this? Is Toshiya changing your mind or some shit?”
He hoped dropping the name would stir some reaction. Instead, Kyo just shifted to lean some of his weight against the actual bar.
“I’m not fucking blind, that’s what makes me an ‘expert’.”
“And?” Die pressed, pissed he had evaded the allusion. “You think it’s a good idea to fool around with Totchi like that? If Kaoru finds out---”
“If Kaoru finds out then what?” Kyo snapped at him in a harsher tone, “We live in the 21st century and Toshiya can do whatever the hell he wants. If Kaoru doesn’t understand that, it isn’t my problem.”
Die couldn’t believe his ears. Kaoru was one of the only things keeping them together as a cohesive force. Jeopardizing his well-being was inevitably jeopardizing the band.
“Uh, hello, it’s everyone’s prob---”
The end of that statement sunk back into Die’s throat, their violet-haired leader having just emerged from behind a group of people next to the tables. He was no longer wearing his heavy overcoat, having found time to shed it amidst his hunt. Dressed in a Chinese-influenced shirt with silver catches lining the front, he cut a sharp figure in all black with his long corn-rowed braids and vibrant purple bangs styled immaculately. Since their first parting near the stage, Kaoru had continued his quest to meet up with his irate lover. His initial plan of apologizing and trying to secret him away for a few moments to dispel whatever notion Totchi harbored for so long was rapidly disintegrating, as the youth kept avoiding him with a luck Kaoru could only deem coincidental. As he came upon the sight of Die and Kyo talking, he inwardly smothered even more anger that, out of all the logical places he should be, Toshiya was not talking with them. The longer he had to wait, the more he could feel pressure mounting to somehow put an end to all this nonsense. At this point he had no want whatsoever to be stuck at this party, and even with all the trouble it would have caused, he wished he could have been spared the unsightly face of a certain blonde. Still, he had his manners.
“Happy birthday, Kyo.”
They stared at one another, and much to Die’s dismay, their mutual hatred shone through their reserved demeanors. Maybe there had been more fighting over Toshiya than anyone had told him about, and this was just the start of permanent dysfunction. Die was almost ready to sacrifice whatever artistic flare Kyo’s rancor added to his composition abilities if it meant everyone getting along. He could handle being in a more mundane band if he kept his sanity along side it.
“Hn, speak of the devil...”
Ignoring the greeting, Kaoru turned to his fellow guitarist.
“Die, where is Toshiya?”
Faced with telling his friend what he had just witnessed and instigating more hostility or simply playing dumb, Die chose dumb. Kyo wasn’t helping any, watching him with dead eyes as if to challenge him into repeating what he’d seen.
“I’m…not sure.”
He ignored the smirk on Kyo’s face in the background and the furrowed brow of the man standing before him.
“Well, find him and tell him I’m looking for him. I would appreciate it.”
Looking back and forth between the two of them, he consented, placing higher priority on finding Shinya than babysitting a disgruntled vocalist. After all, he reasoned, Kaoru was in charge because he was able to handle situations like this better than the rest of them. Hopefully one of them wouldn’t be dead the next time he saw them.
“..Sure Kaoru, I’m on it. See you soon, Kyo.”
There was some noise Die took as a farewell as the blonde snubbed out his cigarette and proceeded to chain smoke. Instantaneous wasn’t the word for how quickly he removed himself from the situation.
With Die gone, Kaoru turned his attention to the guest of honor. Upon examining Kyo for the first time in weeks, he took note of the fact that the other man looked like hell. Eerily enough he was almost reminded of his own physical appearance under the makeup, or at the very least a physical manifestation of his mindset. Any lyrics Kyo had written, if he’d spent any of their off time writing, were sure to be even more disturbing than what he’d penned for Macabre. At the same time, he couldn’t rouse himself to feel pity. Kyo was the one who had instigated all of this with his undisciplined behavior that fateful day and now his life was in complete disarray because of it. What could Toshiya even see in such coarseness? It may sell albums but inviting it into your home was another matter entirely. It made little sense to him why anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as the bassist, would be truly interested in the blonde. His mind sneered at the prospect.
“So, are you enjoying yourself?” Kaoru asked evenly, determined to put his fears to rest. “We were so worried you weren’t going to show up at all, despite all the hard work everyone’s put in to make this happen.”
He was met with equal enthusiasm.
“Yes, actually I am. So I guess there’s no need to worry after all.”
Kyo blew lazy waves of smoke between them and Kaoru walked closer to the bar in order to minimize any eavesdropping.
“It was the very least you could do not to break Toshiya’s heart. He’s put way too much time into this farce for you not to show some appreciation.”
Emphasis was placed on the word farce. Kyo was nonchalant in his response, curious as to whether or not the party was said farce.
“Oh, I will. And I wouldn’t concern myself with his heart – seems like it’s already broken.”
“What.”
Clearly this was not the retort Kaoru expected.
“Just saying. But you would know more about that than me, wouldn’t you?” Kyo took another long drag, warped merriment dancing in his eyes. “Being his boyfriend and all.”
Something in Kaoru snapped, enraged to hear such mockery and insinuation directed towards him.
One arm resting against the bar, he leaned in close so there were no mistaking his words.
“Listen you twisted shit, I don’t know where you get off even referencing our relationship. Last time I checked you hated queers and didn’t care too much about your bandmates either, so this has nothing to do with you.”
“I don’t hate queers Kaoru,” he spat back, “I hate people who deceive others on the bullshit merit that it’s better for everyone when in fact it’s just better for themselves. People who throw up fronts and holier-than-thou airs when they’re just as fucked as those around them but refuse to admit it. People like you.”
Kaoru looked him in the eyes then, lips pressed tightly against each other as his teeth ground. A million terms to snarl at Kyo flew threw his mind and yet he couldn’t settle on one that wouldn’t be followed by his hands wrapping around Kyo’s neck.
“Oh what?” Kyo continued, inner fire stoked by a righteousness he’d feared was stolen from him, “Ready to pretend the past year hasn’t been chock full of everyone in this fucking band dumping on me because I’m different? Lashing out at me because it’s easier than facing what’s truly disturbing them? Well you can forget that horse shit.” He paused for another quick drag, momentum building as he longed to crush anyone who had defied his sensibilities. “We got together because every one of you knows I bring something irreplaceable to the table and fans love us for it. If you can’t handle the traits that make me that way, then find yourself another fucking vocalist. Otherwise, this shit ends and you sleep in the bed that you’ve made.”
In the dim lighting it was hard to discern the fluctuating color of Kaoru’s skin. Every ounce of self-restraint he could muster was skittering along his nerves and locking him into place so he could refrain from the screaming and punching he wanted to start and never stop until his vocalist and this whole pretentious dance hall caved into nothingness. Somewhere, he had known that Kyo would start with the quitting threats and he was ready for them, sure in the knowledge that none of them would get as far separate as they would together. There was no question about that, and even Kyo would be foolish to argue otherwise. He was ready, and had this happened a month ago after their blowout at practice, he would have even conceded to admitting that everyone’s attitude at work was getting out of hand, and no Kyo didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of it. But every time he was leaning towards sympathy, the blonde up and threw something ugly in his face that erased any empathy he could have had. Something like this attitude presented now, like Kyo knew something he didn’t about his own life. And as far from his private life as he was, he had no right to pretend he understood him or the pressures beating down upon him. To make demands, or sit there smugly like things would all work out in his favor despite his total irreverence towards anything that didn’t involve his immediate gain.
It drove him crazy that people like Kyo existed and thought they were in the right. If he could dish out the criticism then he could damn well receive it.
Kaoru took a deep breath, willing himself not to yell.
“Everyone dumps on you because you’ve got a piss poor attitude about everything, and have been that way for half of our careers. That girl left you and you’ve been punishing the rest of us ever since.”
Nothing could stop the smirk from forming on his lips as he watched Kyo’s face twitch in agonizing remembrance of what he strived to forget everyday. When they had been friends, the blonde had confided in him that his life was ruined without her and his career may be too. Back then, Kaoru had cared and been genuinely worried about the vocalist’s mental health and what kind of lasting effect the breakup was going to have. He knew the lasting effect now though, and had been dealing with it for too long. Referencing her was lower than inviting Kirito and he knew it; if Kyo thought he could pry into his love life, or even more brazenly interfere, he deserved every word.
“Yeah that’s right, I said it,” he pressed while he had the advantage, “and you’re lucky we still have a band with your goddamn mood swings. You think it’s easy running this show when you’re throwing your temper tantrums about insignificant bullshit? Some kind of cakewalk where music writes itself and personal drama doesn’t exist?”
Kyo didn’t look at him when he responded, tone knocked down a few notches as he struggled with memories he didn’t anticipate would be brought up. Instead he focused on the wall sconces, their flames providing the distraction he needed to keep up his anger.
“Get over yourself. I never said it was and I’ve always respected your ability to do so. I’d have argued with everyone if I thought I could do a better job, but I can’t, so I’m not. My problem isn’t that a good portion of my life is affected by your decisions. My problem is that you’re so fucking wrapped up in running everything for everyone you’ve completely lost sight of who those people are and what that entails. And unlike you, I refuse to sit on my ass and try and reason everything into place, assuming things will work out that way just because you believe they should.”
He looked back to Kaoru.
“You’re ungrateful and arrogant and when you lose those closest to your heart I can’t say I’ll feel sorry for you.”
“To hear you talk of ungrateful and arrogant…,” a bitter chortle of disbelief left the guitarist’s lips, “I’d think you were the pope. And to hear you speak of losing those close to my heart, well, maybe you do have more experience in that realm. But when all is said and done you don’t know anything about me, and if that was some kind of threat I’m apt to say it’s laughable.”
“Keep laughing then,” the smaller man hissed, the experience comment stinging anew, “Just don’t act like you didn’t see it coming.”
Kaoru leaned in one last time, unable to tolerate any more conversation.
“Stay out of things you don’t understand and save your angst-riddled crap for the fans, Kyo.”
With that remark he turned away, unsure of what to do with himself but certain it wasn’t going to involve being around the vocalist and waiting for an answer. If he’d felt any remorse over seeing Kirito and Aiji walk through the front doors and second guessed his revenge, all of that was washed away in a sweetly heated flow of selfishness. He almost wanted to find where they were sitting and thank Kirito personally for attending the party of the worst human on Earth, letting him know that Kyo had much more atrocious things to say about him and his band if he would only ask. Oh how wonderful it would be to see him tear some other piercings out of the young man’s face in his stead. Or listen to him snarl all the slander and vicious names he had longed to yell at him. Even better, if everyone could see and witness how Kyo was one step up the evolutionary scale from a wolverine, how petty and pathetic his true nature was when cornered and how completely out of control his everything was. Wistfully he imagined such things, imagined Toshiya laughing by his side with his head on his shoulder and a chorus of you were right filling his ears. The runty bastard could feasibly quit after their exchange and right now he couldn’t give less of a damn. After all, being famous wasn’t everything.
I could always manage a band, or be a contract guitarist, he told himself as he wandered, Or I could always just get a normal job. Something that didn’t pit me with people like him. Anywhere else he would be fired or confined to the bottom of the work ladder like he deserves. People like me run the real world and are rewarded for our efforts. The only reason I’m not the head of some company division is because I foolishly thought this shit would be a dream while all it is is some fucking nightmare.
He found himself signaling to the bartender, crammed amongst the other patrons clamoring for drinks as they watched the stage.
I hope no one ever loves that vile selfish cockbite again. I hope he goes home and cries tonight, wondering why the whole world is against him. Why everything good gets taken from him, why he has to live in a world where no matter how hard he tries it’s never enough even when you do play by the rules.
The liquor burned his throat as he threw the shot as far back as he could get it. The second one didn’t sting quite as much, and the third was more bitter on his tongue than anything.
Fuck Kyo and fuck everyone for making my life the way it is. We’ll see who laughs last. When I find Toshiya I’ll make him love me like he used to and all of this horrible shit will go away. He’ll realize he’s been irrational and emotional and there’s no reason to leave the nest. He can’t think clearly for himself; I have to do it for him.
He peered at his watch as he contemplated asking for another round of shots. The time staring back at him reminded him he had other men to see besides his loser vocalist and fetching boyfriend.
Maybe he’s seen Toshiya, he started reasoning to himself, although it dawned on him that the whole reason he’d invited Buck-Tick was so he had an automatic excuse to speak with him. Maybe he’d seen Toshiya and maybe he hadn’t, but at this point he just wanted someone who knew the ins and outs of the world better than he did to tell him he wasn’t crazy. They were probably here already but where was another matter entirely – Kaoru had specified they were to have a cozy dressing room setup and their booth to be at the very back of the hall in case they weren’t interested in mingling. If anything they may all be in the room getting drunk, or possibly inebriated with other substances Kaoru never asked about out of respect for privacy. It was his duty to make sure they had everything they needed though, and that they were ready to perform later; as he viewed it, now was as good a time as ever to go and greet Atsushi personally.
He’ll know what to do, he told himself as he pushed away from the busy bar, ignoring a few random greetings from insignificant guests. He’ll know what to do.
And for the first and last time that evening, a genuine smile graced Kaoru’s lips.
~*~
“Are you sure you don’t want to invite them to sit with us? I’m serious when I say they’re welcome here, Jun.”
The guitarist smiled weakly while Hiro glanced over his shoulder one more time, eyeing the pair in question. Jun didn’t need to turn around to know that despite his own feelings and the truth behind Hiro’s words, there was no imagining that Kirito and Aiji would sit anywhere other than together, isolated from their friends’ warmth. A sigh reached his lips and he forced it into a stronger grin.
“No, I really think they’d rather be alone.” He struggled for a way to legitimize the decision vocally again, embarrassed by his coworkers non-compliant behavior. “Kirito doesn’t feel comfortable around new people easily…and Aiji..he, well---”
“It’s okay, I understand.” Hiro tried to sound nonchalant in his agreement, aware that he had troubled Jun accidentally. “Just making sure.”
Jun felt weight settle on his shoulders and warmth press up against his body. Hiro quickly changed the subject to the same light-hearted banter the rest of their bandmates were having, a gentle squeeze from his enveloping arm enough to distract his lover.
“I gotta say, this has been a pretty slick party so far. What do you think?”
His hand reached out to settle around his drink, and Jun grabbed his own, nursing steadily on a beer mug. He was desperate to forget his bandmates like Hiro suspected, but he doubted the other guitarist realized who exactly was making him the most uncomfortable. Takeo had yet to say a word to him past hello and his quiet demeanor was highlighted by the fact that 10 other people were merrymaking around him. Even Shuse’s escort date was talking, Eiko and Nozomi having politely engaged her in conversation about fashion. He felt foolishly like Takeo’s silence was deafening, like it loomed over his shoulder in disapproval and disgust of what he was doing. It made it hard for him to relax and enjoy this rare opportunity to be with Hiro and his friends at the same time.
“Yeah, I was pretty surprised by B’z playing. I don’t know how they managed that, but talk about cool!”
Hiro smiled in response to Jun’s enthusiasm, the liquor slowly making its way into his system and the sight of his boyfriend’s face causing a pleasantly fuzzy feeling to creep down his spine.
“We should tell one of them how nice this is,” Jun added while he scanned the room.
His date took another sip of his highball and looked around for himself, intrigued by the mixture of his peers milling about.
“If you can find one of them. I haven’t seen a Dir member since Die was on the stage.”
“Do you think a waitress would know where someone is?”
While he had initially thought the smaller guitarist was simply making small talk, there was an oddly persistent tone to the question.
“…What, do you seriously want to say something?”
He felt Jun’s body shrug against his. Their gazes met and Jun smiled crookedly.
“Why not? We won’t get many chances to do something like this together, so I think I owe it to Toshiya to thank him for the invite.”
Hiro felt some vague apprehension at that suggestion, but his lover’s visage took precedence over his subconscious.
Well, I guess I can’t argue with humility. He’s so goddamn adorable.
He looked around again, calculating how to make Jun’s want a reality.
“You’re probably better off aski—hey, is that Toshiya standing at the bar over there?”
The group of people near the bar was constantly fluctuating, and now that B’z was off the stage the activity had increased. The streak of white his figure cut was hard to miss at the moment Hiro had looked in that direction, and once Jun shifted a bit, he too saw the bassist listening to another guest in line.
“Oh wow, you’re right! So…um…”
Despite loosing his comfortable nook and Jun’s body warmth, Hiro scooted over and stood up, offering his hand back to his boyfriend in the booth. “Shall we?”
Jun accepted his help to his feet, straightening out his shirt as Hiro spoke up.
“Hey guys, venturing out into the world.” He knocked on the table near Koji, who couldn’t exactly hear his comment over Taka’s complaining but indicated that he’d seen them leaving. Levin noticed as well and waved. Jun tried to wave back but faltered when Nozomi happily started waving as well. She may have been here as a “friend” and nationally she may not be considered “underage”, but her cute, childish face was out of place amongst so many mature facial features. He felt like a pervert just looking at her.
In a matter of moments they were weaving between people and exchanging random greetings with guests brave enough to address them. It occurred to Jun that many people he caught in the corner of his eye looked puzzled when gazing in his direction and it was slowly making him self-conscious, although Hiro didn’t seem to be noticing.
Maybe people are surprised we’re together…or that I’m with a guy…
Again thoughts of Takeo seeped into his mind and irritated him. With a thinly veiled frown he centered his attention solely on Dir en grey’s bassist as they rapidly approached.
“You know, I feel kind of shabby in this outfit coming closer,” Jun murmured as the meticulousness of his acquaintance’s makeup came into focus, “…He looks really good.”
Good was an understatement and they both knew it. Hiro hadn’t seen Toshiya in person in years, yet even at a distance he could see that he was blossoming into the androgynous and intriguing individual he always expected of him….
The bassist turned so that his entire face was exposed, gaze aimed at the floor.
…but with deader eyes he hadn’t. He turned his attention back to Jun before his mind could soak in any more detail.
“That is an extraordinary outfit.” He wrapped his arm around Jun’s shoulders firmly, smiling gently at him while trying to shake off his ex’s hold on his brain. “But you’re imagining the shabby part.”
Whatever response followed blurred into the milieu about La’cryma’s guitarist. Dark, thinly lined eyes fixated against his will on the scene before him.
Toshiya looked as lovely as ever, and nothing Hiro could think of could crush that thought in his mind. His lean form stirred passionate memories within the recesses of the guitarist’s brain, sensations he’d believed buried beneath heavy layers of denial and regret. Mere footsteps away from the first man to touch his heart, Hiro couldn’t help but suddenly lament his consent to doing this.
Toshiya could very well hate me, and I don’t want to cause Jun embarrassment…Or Toshiya any more pain than I may have. What the hell was I thinking?
He watched as Toshiya finally made it to the bartender, tapping his fingers against the countertop impatiently as he waited for his drinks. An uncomfortable lump rose in his throat and words jumped to his lips.
“You know Jun, maybe --”
But it was too late, his boyfriend already moving beside the bassist and motioning for him to follow.
“Hey, Toshiya?”
The taller man turned around.
He’d had much less eye makeup on when they met, but Hiro could feel his heart beating erratically at the sight of those perfect eyes and soft cheeks rising into a smile.
“Oh Jun! Hi!”
The bartender returned with two glasses and Toshiya left them on the bar, more interested in Jun’s appearance for the moment.
“Hi! We just wanted to thank you for inviting us to the party tonight.” Jun was trying his best to sound polite and casual at the same time. “It’s been great so far and your hard work has paid off.”
Toshiya smiled at the compliment, raising his eyebrows in mild confusion.
“Hm? Us?”
“Oh sorry,” Jun hurriedly moved to one side so as not to obscure his partner, “Hiro and I.”
He smiled widely while he introduced the other guitarist, happy to have at least one person to talk about Hiro with who wasn’t going to hate him for it. When the smile on Toshiya’s face dropped to a twitch and parted lips, he chalked it up to Hiro’s shorter hair and stark choice of makeup taking a while to register.
“Hi.”
His greeting came out quieter than he had wanted it to, unable to look Toshiya in the eyes. Hiro placed his hands in his pockets and tried to make his body relax, but was having a hard time of it. The bassist’s surprise wasn’t lost on him and he didn’t know if he could handle hearing him talk.
“…It’s been a long time..”
Toshiya’s voice came out slightly dazed, and ended in a cough that broke his staring at Hiro. With a deft hand he grabbed his own drink from the bar and sucked hard at the straw once, turning his gaze back to Jun.
“Yes,” Hiro mumbled in response, but Jun was already starting to gush.
“You look really great tonight Toshiya! Everyone’s been complimenting your appearance.”
Hiro resisted the urge to wince as he glanced up to see a fake smile grace Toshiya’s face. It wasn’t too easy to tell, but he had spent enough time with the bassist to know he was retreating into his mind and setting the rest of his body on autopilot.
“Oh, have they?”
The ex-lovers eyes’ met. Unable to discern what the other was thinking, the density of the moment rendered them both useless, and the bassist had a hard time finishing his thought. “Thank you, though it was hard to decide what to wear.”
Jun hadn’t expected to say much more than hello given there were probably more important people needing Toshiya’s attention, and his pause as he figured out what would be appropriate to say next highlighted the fact that Hiro was normally chiming in with a comment by now. Toshiya’s eyes kept wandering to look beside him; when Jun glanced at Hiro the guitarist was also looking to his ex with a strange expression. Hiro hadn’t talked about the bassist since the night of the earthquake, and it occurred to him that maybe they were embarrassed to truly catch up while he was present.
Hiro’s always trying hard to be thoughtful and mind my unspoken needs….Hmmm…
“Well I actually need to go to the men’s room for a moment,” he said loud enough so they could both hear him, “so you two catch up while I’m gone.”
He touched Hiro on the shoulder and smiled again at Toshiya.
I won’t waste these last couple of minutes when they may not see each other for years, he thought as he walked away, warmed by his show of selflessness.
“Wait, Jun----” Hiro began fruitlessly. He quickly shut his lips when he saw that Toshiya was watching him again, afraid of insinuating he didn’t want to see him, but equally as afraid to talk.
A small laugh reached the guitarist’s ears. Toshiya strode closer to him, his platforms giving him a few inches over Hiro as well.
“What’s the matter? Are you leaving me this time?”
The words lacked bite, but the tone of intimacy coating them made Hiro shift uncomfortably, memories harshly squeezing at his heart. It was a completely different kind of endearing than that he found in the likes of Jun or those before him. Something about the boy’s voice courted another side of him that he had tried to groom into oblivion. Currents of dark, underlying waters tugged at his insides, whorls pleasurably warm to the touch.
He laughed compulsively, the sound low and awkward.
“No…I just.,” their eyes met again, Hiro becoming used to the inner turmoil, “...worry that my presence may upset you.”
“Really?” Despite any connection their vision held, Toshiya was quick to stare at nothingness instead. “It has been a really long time. You’re still so polite.”
Hiro wondered at the nature of his taught smile, and the rhythmic blinking of his long lashes. Even with all the noise and movement around them, he found all of his senses focusing on a portrait of his former lover. A single, solemn thought enveloped his mind.
This is the pinnacle of his beauty. I feel I will never see him so…so…
“Vulnerable” was what kept coming to his mind, but the description agitated Hiro, the word too imperfect to capture the visual feast before him. The same indecisive side that had floundered as Toshiya had slipped through his fingers the first time battled against a captivated soul tender with want to touch and hold.
I have to say it, I have to tell him what he meant to me or it will always haunt me…
The tumult prompted him to speak past his own shame and misgivings in one inexorable moment, words escaping to make sure his innermost beliefs were heard.
“Toshiya….listen, before I lose my chance to say this….I just want you to know that whatever occurred between the two of us, I regret letting you go. I---”
“But you do look happy with Jun.” The interjection was hurried but detached, the smile on the bassist’s face losing any pretense of delight, words faltering with a tremor of his lips. “He’s…he’s the type for someone like you…”
Despite the cryptic assertion Hiro continued, determined to speak until Toshiya walked away or otherwise stopped him.
“It’s true that he has my heart now. I love him.”
He found himself leaning closer in an effort to isolate his voice so there was no mistaking his words.
“But Toshiya, I need you to know…I may love him now, but….I would have loved you forever. I want you to hear what I should have said then. It’s the past, but….”
It was then he noticed the tears gathering in the bassist’s eyes, and how the blinking was his desperate attempt to quell it all along. He still feared he was seconds away from horrible painful backlash, but the anger never came. The answer he got, while not what he had been anticipating, made his heart ache nonetheless.
“I know Hiro…..I…know..”
Body quaking, he covered his mouth briefly to stifle a sob. Hiro was at a loss of what to do, stunned and concerned that his words had caused such strife when they were originally intended as a sign of humility. If Jun were to come back, or if anyone began to watch them, he wondered how this appeared.
“Excuse me.”
Toshiya began quickly pushing a path past Hiro, clenching his arm tightly in the process and completely abandoning the cocktails he had come for in the first place. The guitarist had little chance to react or stop him, instead standing dumbfounded, still registering what exactly was happening. Before he could turn around Toshiya was already gone, other guests moving and obscuring his view of the bar and the forgotten drinks, like nothing had happened to begin with. Looking behind him, no trace of the pallid form could be found.
More sober than he ever liked to be, Hiro wondered if it had been selfish of him to blurt out his feelings at what must be a stressful time for his ex. Something he had said or done must have been wrong – of all the outcomes he had expected, Toshiya shedding tears without decking him was not one of them.
He must be ashamed that I was familiar with him in front of everyone…I….
“…fuck,” he muttered to himself.
Closing his eyes, he readied a smile for when Jun returned.
~*~
How could I have been so fucking stupid? How could I have forgotten they were dating? That Jun would be here? Why is Kirito here? Gods why is this happening??! Fuck now my makeup is going to run; no crying, no crying, for once just act like a man….argh STOP IT STOP CRYING YOU IDIOT!!
He sniffed as hard as he could, his reddened eyes and harsh inhaling making those around him assume he had been backstage participating in another kind of fun, all averting their gazes respectfully. Toshiya didn’t care what anyone thought so long as no one realized he was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.
Of all the things to say, of all the times, Kyo’s waiting and what the fuck I forgot the drinks and I CAN’T TAKE THIS ANYMORE.
Molars ground painfully against one another as various thoughts bulldozed through his anxious mind and he felt it becoming harder and harder to breathe. In a blur he skirted past person after person until he stumbled into the female restroom, heart pumping in his throat while the room spun about and cold granite jumped to meet his fingertips.
Despite his initial joy that Kyo appeared as receptive to his advances as he could have hoped for, making the mistake of leaving him for drinks had proven to have gripped his sanity and stability with much gusto and chucked it down the stairs. For some reason Kirito and Aiji had been sitting at a table together when he had walked to the bar, and the shock of their presence coiled quickly inside his gut in dread and incomprehension. That alone was enough to alter his finally elevated mood, but the line for the bar had been no better, every guest or acquaintance who spoke to him referencing Kaoru in what seemed to be endless banal banter. He hadn’t been able to figure out why Jun would have invited his volatile bandmates, and while he had tried his best to deflect all the polite comments and references to the largest source of misery in his life currently, Jun was suddenly there, smiling sweetly.
But Jun wasn’t alone.
Flashes of happy memories bombarded his brain, long black hair twirled between his fingertips once more. His clumsy, younger years taunted him with their shame and Hiro’s smiling face; backwash from fairytale romance dripping down his throat and making him sick to his stomach.
Love me forever, and where am I now? What did you let me do to myself Hiro?
Finally a tear rolled down his cheek, the sensation only frustrating the bassist further.
Jun does deserve you, and all I deserve is this, to be treated like shit by a lying fucking bastard who I handed my heart on a platter and where am I now, who’s here to help me….or stop me….
Before the party had started full swing, Toshiya had given a letter to Miyabi to deliver to Mana when he encountered him. Penned the night before, he had sworn to himself that once he handed the letter over there was no going back. He had chosen Miyabi haphazardly, not because he trusted the guitarist more, but simply because he had been walking by at the right time and Toshiya felt the younger man’s want for stardom would keep him serious about the job delivering the letter -- sarcastic, whorish behavior while doing so aside. It didn’t matter if he read it anyways, as his and Mana’s exchanges were always fairly enigmatic due to Mana’s nature and love of prose. Right now the disjointed words ran through his mind repeatedly, giving him no comfort, although he could think of nothing else.
“It’s over. You of all people must understand why. You were right, but who can smile. I can’t. Are we destined to walk alone? The gods demand a price; foolish mortals want it all. Please see me when this is over. You always smell of roses.”
A part of him thought maybe he could run back out and find Mana, and the older man would make things okay. So hopeless did he feel that he almost rationalized the action. Yet he knew logically that there was no escape from these events he had helped shape. No one was going to make things okay for him.
…I have to make things okay. It’s all on me.
With an unsteady hand and a rough wiping of his cheek he pulled his slim keitai from his back pocket. A simple button push brought up the old pseudonym his friend went by when it came to business. Several years ago he had sworn the number off, hiding it from his lover and his bandmates because that part of him didn’t fly with commercial success. Right now, commercial success was the farthest thing from Toshiya’s mind.
He wanted to laugh maniacally, but even the small smirk of satisfaction seeing his friend’s number again coaxed out of him was smothered in the fear that he would start openly weeping instead. He wanted to know what Hiro was thinking, what he thought of his sudden departure and cryptic implications. If Kyo had dismissed his interest already because he’d been gone for an amount of time he couldn’t guess. More than anything though, was the persistence of the same want he’d had in his bedroom, holding himself. The want to feel nothing at all.
~*~
Kyo had re-donned his sunglasses in an effort to both minimize his facial expression and ward off potential well-wishers. Now that B’z was off the stage nothing was particularly stimulating him, and the after effects of constant restless nights urged him to doze off rather than acknowledge the rest of the party. His heated exchange with Kaoru had left a sour taste in his mouth, but Toshiya hadn’t come back with the supposed drinks he had left to retrieve and he’d be damned if he stood around everyone at the bar to ask for one. So instead he sat back on his stool and eyed the booths across the floor before lighting another cigarette. A part of his brain was still reeling in rage from Kaoru’s snarky response, but the other half kept telling him it would be okay if Toshiya came back to him and didn’t prove him a fool. If his trust in the other man had been misplaced, he reasoned that if things went horribly awry he would just leave and fuck all he left in his wake. After all, several more months of self-neglect and losing his job didn’t seem as woefully humiliating as the other options left.
Well Dad, he thought while he looked to the dance floor with tired eyes and hazy vision, you were right. All this bullshit and I’ve amounted to less than nothing some how. I hope---
“Kyo?”
He sat up straighter upon hearing his name, looking for the source. Toshiya was back, but he was not in the same state he’d been in when he left. Gone was any sly sparkle to his eyes, replaced by something that looked vaguely like fear and desperation.
The blonde stared at the small smudges of black and red that encircled his friend’s eyes, and noted that his chest was heaving slightly to accommodate his distressed breathing.
Thin fingers settled on his shoulder again, and Kyo briefly wondered what they would feel like without clothing in the way.
“I--I,” the bassist coughed and inhaled sharply to clear his nose, “I have to leave for a bit. I’m very sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Tremors moved fabric against his collarbone ever so gently. The only thing Kyo could think of was that Kaoru was responsible for this. And if he wasn’t, Kyo wasn’t sure he wanted to know who was, so strong was his empathic reaction. He couldn’t remember the last time something that hadn’t happened to him felt like a personal affront, but now his blood simmered in anger.
“I’ll see you in a bit,” Toshiya added haltingly, unsure of whether the change in Kyo’s expression was distaste for him or not.
When he turned to go, Kyo reached to the side and grabbed his wrist.
Who did this to you? The demand was on the tip of his tongue, but the pleading look in Toshiya’s eyes momentarily disarmed his aggravation. Instead he swallowed the words.
With a weak smile, Toshiya waited dutifully until Kyo was ready to release him, unaware of the passions stirring within the blonde. Whatever stupor he was falling into earlier fell far away as an acute sense of awareness overtook his mind, his breath coming deeper.
“I’ll be waiting,” was all Kyo could manage to get out, tone rough to mask any emotion.
His grip relented and he watched Toshiya slip past their peers towards the exit. When he could no longer see the other man, Kyo took off his sunglasses so that he could stare unfettered at his table, intent on focusing on the surge of endorphins flowing through his frame. His eyes closed in primal bliss, brain flooded by the thoughts and fantasies of knowing that Toshiya was going to return to him. Plans of revenge coiled about hormonal urges that had made him physically ill days ago, but now he dared to embrace. All the turbulent images and memories that had paralyzed him were now infused with a sense of ownership; the answers he was looking for so tantalizingly close he felt he could reach out and crush them.
Kyo leaned back in his chair, the idea of flagging down a waitress for a drink no longer such a bad one. When he opened his eyes, he looked to his side instinctively to find one making her round. Instead, he stopped breathing as a clear view of the back of the seating area opened up. Blood rushed to his head and he felt the sounds around him drown into nothingness.
Sweet chemical adrenaline crashed against the jagged rocks of his mind. The gaping holes were suddenly flooded and filled. He knew what he had to do now, how he could be whole again.
When he saw the wiry brunette shift and stare unhappily at the floor, he wished very badly that he was still holding Toshiya’s wrist, and that he could secrete him away to the darkest corner of his mind.
~*~
Metal Gear Solid was a decent series in Die’s opinion. He wasn’t much for tactical diplomacy or espionage, and despite the badassness of a super weapon lending itself to worldwide war, he wasn’t much for mechs either. But he did like Solid Snake and his gruff, no-nonsense, chain-smoking American ways. He was a hero he could relate to. And there was one thing he had always really liked about the game – sneaking up behind military grunts and finding new ways to shove them into lockers.
However, as he sat pathetically in some indie kid’s seat that he had unceremoniously stolen near the dance floor, Die was finding out that sneaking around was not all fun and locker-stuffing like he had been led to believe.
He watched as what seemed like an endless throng of party-goers revolved around the table Chisato and his company of merry molesters had led his boyfriend to. Whatever plan Penicillin had attempted to hatch must have been thwarted, because for the past half hour it had been impossible to speak to Shinya for more than three minutes without someone else butting in. He knew, he had tried. And people were butting in from all over the place, like Shinya was turning water into wine while hide had come back from the dead to drink that wine and endorse him as the most fantastic drummer ever. Hakuei had actually given up his seat in annoyance and escorted Gisho somewhere else Die wasn’t aware of, but was fairly sure included some other poor drummer and non-consensual sex. Chisato persevered, and Die wondered if the other guitarist wasn’t already drunk, because he ended up chatting jovially with half of the men that showed up and didn’t seem the least bit bothered by so many people. All he’d been able to do was skirt around the small spectacle from table to booth to bar to more tables, hoping to squeeze in unnoticed.
Die had found out firsthand why half the girls in the front of their standing lives had such painful expressions on their faces at any given moment – other guests had literally propelled him backwards with their shoving, little concern given to who he was or what he wanted with the drummer they had all come to see. No matter how politely he tried to pass through, no one was willing to concede their position and rudeness ran abundant. He was almost tempted to find Kaoru to get him to somehow magically order everyone to let him speak with Shinya, although he knew that wasn’t going to happen with Kaoru’s mood, if it would have happened at all.
Of course, having been focusing on his speech and picking up Kaoru’s prep slack, Die hadn’t noticed that wherever Shinya went -- whether it was to greet others at the door, use the restroom, powder his nose, or even turn around to sneeze – at least three other guests would trail behind him at any given time. If he had been paying attention, Shinya becoming immobile would have been an obvious target for such an onslaught, but he had been taken aback by Penicillin’s forward ways and been paying the price since.
For the love of the fucking gods, what, is that Kozi again?!
He felt his fingers curling into angry fists. It was the second time he had seen (key word being “seen”) Malice Mizer’s guitarist come by in his fancy white suit and say whatever satanic curse it took to make Shinya smile so warmly at such a freak.
I’ve got to go back over there. This time, I’ll just punch someone until I make it to the goddamn table.
The notion that Shinya had possibly slept with all these men competing to gain his attention was one that Die couldn’t harbor for more than 2 seconds. He had come up with all sorts of outlandish excuses for each individual guest he had been forced to watch approach from his miserable corner; it had gotten to the point where he didn’t have the brainpower or sobriety to think of any more, and resigning to observe was slowly crushing his soul. The one thing he was thankful for was that Shinya didn’t seem to be reciprocating in any sort of sexual fashion, this being the only bandage keeping his sanity together. He didn’t know what he would do if any of them openly started molesting him.
With no drink left and nothing else to steel his nerves, Die found his eyes darting everywhere as he tried to think of an excuse to yell while beating his way through the masses. Entirely on accident, he found himself staring at his watch, where an alarming set of numbers stared back at him.
Oh….shit….
In a panic, he stood up and reached into his pockets, pulling his rumpled cheat sheet out and hurriedly reading the words.
I totally forgot about Cascade!!
He took a step towards the backstage area and then a thought occurred to him.
..And I can totally use them as an excuse! PIN-PON bitches!
With a wicked grin he jogged over to the group surrounding his boyfriend and donned a serious expression as he started trying to push guests aside.
“Shinya’s needed backstage,” he said as loudly as he thought he could get away with, ignoring angry cries as he “accidentally” stepped on feet and crumpled styled hair beneath his rough grabbing. “Shinya, Cascade needs our help. Let me through!”
He pushed aside the last person and stood directly across from where Shinya was sitting, trying even harder than he had with the waitresses to put on his Kaoru Face.
“Shin-chan,” he wanted to emphasize the chan part as ludicrously as he could but refrained from doing so, “Hiroshi says the pedal for the snare drum has something wrong with it and the staff said to come get you.” Of course, Die barely knew if that part of a drum set had a pedal, but he hoped his tone was enough to pierce Shinya’s liquor-soaked mind. “We need to get back there ASAP so they can get on stage.”
He looked around with furrowed brows to see if anyone wanted to challenge his authority.
“Oh my goodness,” Shinya replied with a worried, if drunken, expression. “Of course!”
Deg’s drummer stood up quickly, a random helping hand stabilizing him from behind so that he didn’t tip backwards. Die extended his hand as soon as his boyfriend was in reach and dragged him through the crowd, ignoring any of his concerned questions and marshalling him straight to the staff-only area.
The redhead was elated that one plan had finally worked and couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.
“….in the dressing room?”
He finally registered Shinya’s voice amidst the victorious chanting in his brain.
Die had led Shinya directly into the dressing room area where he had stood earlier with the waitress group. It wasn’t ideal, as who knew when a waitress would return to freshen their makeup and also try and get in Shinya’s pants, but it would have to do for now. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
He gently led the boy to the couch against the wall, motioning for him to sit.
“Yes well,” Die began anxiously, trying to judge just how tipsy Shinya was by the way he sat down, “they’re working on it out on the stage right now. You know, we don’t want to get in their way.”
He waited to see if the drummer was going to argue the finer points of there being no logic whatsoever to what he was saying, but Shinya seemed to be contemplating this. He pursed his lips in preparation to ask another question, but the redhead was one step (and three less drinks) ahead of him.
“I told Hiroshi I’d go and fetch him when I got a hold of you. Which, I might add,” he noted in as scolding a tone as could be attributed to his default demeanor, “was not very easy. You know if Kaoru was looking for us he’d never find you buried beneath all your acquaintances out there. We still need to help run things.”
Shinya looked more disturbed by this news than Die had intended for him to be, but he wasn’t very good at this lying on the fly ordeal. Whatever came to mind was whatever came out of his mouth.
“Has Kaoru been looking for me?” he asked solemnly. “Am I supposed to be doing something now?”
The sobering look on Shinya’s face made Die worry that he was losing him, and much to his regret, he had failed to bring a drink with them.
“Well, he did tell me he wanted to meet up with us once Cascade got going, so I told him he could meet us here.”
“Are we in---”
“Listen sweetheart,” he interjected, afraid of getting caught in his lie, “don’t fret. Why don’t you just relax from all that socializing, I’ll go get Hiroshi, and we can hear what Kaoru wanted to tell us. Just take a breather for a moment. You’ve been a really good host so far.”
A modest smile returned his compliment. He made a show of fluffing up the couch pillows Shinya rested against.
“Thank Die-kun….I don’t know what I’d do without you!”
Probably get gang-raped by----
Die shook his head quickly to banish the unpleasant thought.
“It’s alright. Just sit tight and I’ll be right back, okay?”
Of course Hiroshi didn’t really need Shinya’s help at all, and as far as Die knew, everything was okay save for the fact that he was announcing their performance 15 minutes late. He kissed his love on the cheek and prayed Shinya would be there when he got back.
Shinya watched as his tux-clad boyfriend slipped out the door and went to fetch the drummer in need. Now that he was alone, something that hadn’t happened this entire night so far, he exhaled deeply and let his body go limp against the couch pillows. When he closed his eyes his head felt heavy and the mass of his brain seemed to shift to the front of his face, making his head loll from side to side whenever he tried to move it at all. The room suddenly felt very quiet, as his ears had been filled with a constant stream of praise and affection.
He smiled dazedly, opening his eyes to look at the ceiling.
All the commendation was the sort of thing that made him writhe in agony in his daily life. He didn’t like being scrutinized by so many eyes…so many judging eyes and voices. Hiding behind a drum set made things bearable on a regular basis, but he knew he could never be part of a band if he was placed in the same position as Kyo, or any of his other friends. Die especially, expected to run around while playing and entertaining the crowd. Although he would never vocalize it, a large part of Shinya’s mind responded with fuck that when he even began to put himself in such a place. But now, mind warm and relaxed in puddles of pungent liquid, all the attention didn’t seem so bad. He felt he was slowly beginning to understand what drove his boyfriend to behave the way he did. It was like the social life in school he never had, or the seat at the head of the table his family would never offer him. People liked him, liked his music, liked his looks, liked his everything. It made him genuinely happy.
“Hakuei and Gisho don’t normally want to talk to my friends,” he recalled Chisato telling him earlier, arm laid around his shoulder affectionately, “but they made it a point to meet you. I’m not surprised though. You’re a really great guy Shinya. I don’t understand why you try so hard to hide it from everyone.”
Me, a great guy? he thought to himself. Chisato’s smile had seemed genuine, and many others had followed with similar words as they came to greet him. Men, respectable men that were his peers, fawned over him right and left. All eager to please him. Not Toshiya. Not anyone else. Him.
He grinned widely while there were no witnesses, allowing himself to revel in the thought.
But…Die has my heart. So long as he loves me, I answer to him. He shows me respect…other people, their words can still be false. They can still deceive…
His smile faded as sober Shinya tried to claw its way to the front of his brain. Sober Shinya who couldn’t make friends or get compliments or garner the interest of a certain hot redhead. As he gazed across the room he could see his reflection staring back at him from the mirrors on the other side. The man he saw there appeared all too uptight and cold, hands placed on his pressed pant legs with all the sexual allure of a broken statue. Grimacing, he looked away.
The jolt of seeing himself reminded Shinya that he was supposed to be waiting for Die to return with that drummer in tow. While he hadn’t been paying attention to the amount of time transpiring, it was odd that Die hadn’t returned yet if it was such a big deal. He cocked his head to listen outside; it sounded like music was starting to play, muffled percussion booming through the walls. Maybe things had panned out with a staff member and he wasn’t needed. Again, his thoughts went to Die.
I wonder if we could stay in here just a little while, and hold onto one another…
He thought of rough hands smoothing down his hair, touching his cheek and saying tender things he never would have guessed the guitarist was capable of saying. Abruptly he tried to stand up, wanting to go over to the mirrors and make sure he was in the right order to invite Die to touch him in such a manner. So many hands had been laid on his shoulders that crumbs here and there would not surprise him. Standing up, however, was still proving to be a complicated manner. The room spun about before he could truly right himself, hands grabbing onto whatever he could find to make sure he didn’t go careening into the floor.
Hmm..too much work.
Instead of making it across the room, the brunette drummer found himself sitting further along the couch, near the group of presents the band and staff members had brought that were being kept separate from the pile on the table outside. The original table allotted to present display had filled up faster than they had expected, with nearly everyone invited having brought something. Kaoru, unprepared for such a gift turnout, had requested close friends and staff dump whatever they brought in the dressing room to be brought out later. Shinya smiled drunkenly at the sight, wondering what the staff members, and especially his bandmates, had decided to give Kyo. His own present was a high-end pair of headphones he had heard Kyo vaguely express wanting, but doubted the other was willing to shell out the cash for.
I wonder what Die got him?
He eyed the pile closer in curiosity. His boyfriend kept side-skirting the issue of Kyo’s gift, telling him he felt his present was going to be lame in comparison and not wanting to draw attention to it. Shinya hadn’t pressed the issue; it was very hard to guess at what the blonde really wanted, or would even begin to acknowledge as a decent gift. No one had bothered discussing with him what would make a great present; the unspoken consensus was that no one really knew Kyo’s desires.
The bag that Die had brought was amongst the presents, sitting near the wall a foot or so from the other items, like it had been set aside so not to get lost. If he hadn’t had so much to drink, Shinya would have been adverse to the idea of poking around in other’s belongings, humiliated at the thought of someone discovering him in such a position. Now, left alone and repeatedly losing track of how long he’d been waiting, the drummer slowly began moving towards the bag, curiosity unbearable. He shift further to the end of the couch, extending his arm out as far as he could. Long fingers touched the side of the bag, pulling it ever so slightly towards him, exposing the interior tantalizingly.
Shinya let go of the plastic side in surprise.
Is my….dress..in there?
He felt his eyes must be playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn he saw shoes and folded black material sitting at the top of the present bag.
Intrigued, he reached for the bag once more, this time pulling it closer with more force.
The shoes he had borrowed from Toshiya and the dress Die had bought him sat there, unmoving.
Die…why would he…?
The answer didn’t take too much concentration, as the only feasible reason he could imagine was Die’s vain hopes that he could somehow coerce him into changing. A part of him found that vaguely disturbing, having already turned him down once on the offer.
But…..
He was baffled, so absorbed in trying to understand his partner that his eyes came to an empty focus on the wall.
..he....this must really mean something to him…
It was the only logic his brain felt it could handle.
And if it really means something to him….
..then…
He pulled the bag into his lap ever so slowly, with an almost reverent care.
The idea felt absurd.
But then again, he thought, peeking back inside with fascination,
….so had the prospect of dating Die to begin with.
~*~
If the continuing talk of vacation destinations in English hadn’t made him feel ignorant and uncomfortable, then the tall Caucasian with his arm secured around his idol more than fit that bill. On second thought, Kaoru mused unhappily, perhaps Imai speaking in English coherently topped all of that., the end result so strange he could barely tolerate hearing it.
He was just looking for an opening to leave at this point. Even the sight of Atsushi smiling his beguiling smile of mystery and dark mirth couldn’t override the sensation that Kaoru was, in so many words, completely out of place.
“….Better than Guam,” Imai finished in Japanese, words Kaoru could finally grasp.
“Fucking liar,” one of the foreigners declared in a tone he found much too insulting to ever use with Buck-Tick, even in jest. Yet the band and their guests all laughed, cheers being said amongst clinking glasses and some banging of a table courtesy of another gaijin.
Atsushi had introduced his guests as part of a new project he and some of his band members were participating in. They were in town and had wanted to come and see the party for themselves – very interesting people, the body of perfection had assured him, and one with heavily tattoed arms echoed reassurance that they spoke poor, drunken Japanese, so don’t be shy. Kaoru had stood dumbfounded and queasy, the type of Japanese man who panicked when startled by outsiders. He could see his one shining beacon of momentary relief directly in front of him, Atsushi painfully handsome as ever in his all-black attire and vampiric impeccability, beckoning to him with the hand that wasn’t being held down. One look at his companion for the night and Kaoru knew he was going to find nothing more than another headache here.
He had been truly caught by surprise when he had entered the backstage quarters, expecting to see BT and at the most, their escorts for the night getting steadily inebriated. Instead, he found the band with far fewer women than he had expected, their seats filled by several intimidating-looking gaijin, one of whom was especially tall and vulgar. This in itself was too much for Kaoru, whose frayed nerves were expecting solace in pretty, behaved girls and a private corner with a certain vocalist. He certainly was not in the right mindset to keep appearances around foreigners or begin to sputter through broken English; to top it off, the most abrasive of the lot seemed to have a connection to Atsushi outside the realm of business, his presence absorbing much of the older man’s attention. Even before he’d heard the gaijin speak to his friend he knew something strange was going on, as he had never seen the vocalist lean against anyone in the manner he currently was. Of course, Atsushi had made it a point to introduce the other men (and his bandmates just for good, drunken measure) but Kaoru’s pulsating brain had drowned out whatever honky names they had to begin with. He had kept vigilant watch to see if Atsushi was so far gone that his deference to the Caucasian was from a blurred mind that would lead to troubled performing, but as much as he had wished it so (the party going well be damned), Atsushi didn’t seem any more intoxicated than he normally was at such events. The jarring scene of the man he unwaveringly admired having his hair stroked by such a rude ogre kept any words or questions he had wanted to ask from forming, his hands clenching and unclenching nervously at the sight.
I’m going to have to catch Atsushi after they perform – I can’t stand watching them anymore. These people…
He looked around in the dim light, collar feeling too close to his neck.
Kaoru did have other options than just staring at the bizarrely intimate exchanges between his friend and the aggressive company he kept. Toll and Yutaka, their English skills more limited than their bandmates, had tried to make casual conversation with the violet-haired guitarist. There were some women in the room, and they were pretty and behaved as he had hoped for, but there were also two gaijin females present who seemed much too interested in Kaoru for his liking. He deduced they must have been on something to wink at him so brazenly, but he knew he had to abandon his original plan before one of them actually approached him. At this point, he didn’t trust himself not to make an ass of himself, and a harsh one at that.
He stood up, walking briskly from his corner to the loveseat Atsushi was relaxing against his coworker in. “Sakurai-san, forgive me, I have duties to attend to. Perhaps I may speak with you later?”
“Ah, Kaoru,” the raven haired beauty raised his wine glass in acknowledgment, “I understand.” He put the glass down and waved the younger man closer. Kaoru took a step nearer, but could not come further without running into the gaijin’s sprawled legs.
“Please, forgive my inability to hold a conversation right now. As you can see, we have been thoroughly enjoying ourselves to get into the spirit of performing. Also, entertaining our guests does require so much from one’s concentration, as they are delightfully demanding. Are you not?”
He twisted his head to look up at his exotic friend.
Kohl-smeared eyes turned slightly downwards, the sheen on his insipid skin unattractive to Kaoru. A wickedly sarcastic grin lit his face, teetering on the edge of a sneer. Atsushi only smiled wider in return, lips innocent, eyes devious.
Kaoru could feel his heart clench in envy.
“This boy, he likes big words. It’s cute.”
The statement startled him out of his reverie, the tall man looking directly into his eyes. He sounded just as outlandish as Imai had.
The silence made the guitarist’s neck moist with sweat. He didn’t know what to say, finding the staring unbearable.
Finally the other man snorted, going back to English. “Nice hair.”
“Sankyuu,” he replied quietly, no longer able to look at the two. “Sakurai-san, until later,” he bowed lightly in his direction, “and a pleasure meeting you,” he finished, nodding at the foreigner. While he turned on his heel and went straight for the door, he couldn’t help but regret not saying his goodbyes in reverse so as to end on that damning smile.
Damning, but..reassuring, he thought to himself, angry that he had been so close to inner quiet, only to have it snatched away by large, uninvited hands.
I swear to the gods if any one of them saw an RSVP concerning BT that I didn’t, I am going to throttle someone.
Standing in the hall with cool air flowing around his face made the guitarist pause and take a deep breath. His head felt so cluttered, his chest tight. Broken thoughts and segmented emotions littered the floor of his mind, puncturing his feet when he tried to wade through it all. The liquor he’d consumed early had help take the edge off for an hour or so, but now it was lending itself to reinforcing the pounding in his head and the aggravating film of dampness that had accumulated under his layered clothing. Trying his best to shove his thoughts back into some sort of cohesive entity, he found himself simply standing and breathing, not sure what to do next. Habitually, he pushed back his sleeve and looked at his watch.
9:45.
He stared hard at the numbers, trying to make sense of them while shaking Atsushi’s visage from his mind.
At least, a mocking part of his brain started, he isn’t Toshiya.
His jaw clenched so tight that his ears began to ache. Closing his eyes, he tried to think of something other than either of his handsome companions. It wasn’t working. All the thoughts of Toshiya were building his initial rage back up. The pounding in his head grew louder, more demanding. He opened his eyes.
9:48.
Other muscles flexed, urging him to move in case someone from Buck-Tick’s room saw him there. He looked at his watch one more time, as if it had the answers he didn’t get a chance to hear from the vocalist.
That’s odd – something is supposed to be happening by now. Why isn’t Cascade playing? Wait, they were supposed to have started at ----
As if on cue, the muffled bashing of drums started up.
“What the hell?” he muttered under his breath, although he already knew the answer.
Finally having settled on a purpose, he strode down the hall righteously, ready to do what he did best ---
---berate until the anxiety subsided.
~*~
Die was glad that someone in Western society had invented the handkerchief pocket on tuxedos. He had ridiculed the useless pocket when he purchased the suit, but now the handkerchief was wiping off a wet forehead he didn’t want Shinya to see. The lights on stage must have been close to the temperature of the sun, and it felt like the entire dance hall was experiencing broken AC during summertime rather than providing much needed heat during this harsh winter. Hauling ass backstage wasn’t helping any, his slim figure contorting to avoid staff members who all had questions he didn’t have the answers to. He also didn’t know where the man who usually had said answers was, and he wasn’t sure he cared to find him either. The redhead was hoping that if Amida had saved him in this life like his cousin was constantly telling him, he could help save his hide when it came to dealing with Kaoru’s temper.
I’ll go on that pilgrimage I keep lying about wanting to go on with him. I’ll start making offerings at that temple down the street, and, uh, not make anymore jokes about the nuns’ shaved heads back home.
ANYTHING, please please please please PLEASE just let him have found Toshiya and not be around and let Shinya be in a dress ready to make love to me and have no one else show interest in him and let me get out of this alive. Oh, and let Kyo like my present and don’t let Shinya see it! I’ll even be nicer to those Christian missionaries that hand out pamphlets if you can make this happen. I’ll be a better person, I swear!
He tried to remember the simple chant he’d heard so many times in his youth, squeezing his memory to no avail. His jog grinded to a halt, the dressing room door looming before him. Slowing his shallow breathing, he tugged at his jacket and carefully felt around his head to see if any of his spikes had wilted. When he was reasonably sure that he didn’t look like a chicken running around with his head cut off, he opened the door.
“Shin-chan, sorry for the wait, it turned out---”
Exposed shoulders jumped in surprise, Shinya whipping around and almost impaling his eye on a curling iron.
Die’s jaw went slack. He brought his lips together, and closed his eyes.
Namu Amida butsu.
“Die—where, what have you--”
Shinya had a hard time deciding on what words wanted to come out, suddenly remembering he was holding something smoldering to his head. Once the iron was safely disentangled, he looked back to his partner.
Die took one step forward, fingers slowly creeping outwards towards a heavenly vision. The passions that swelled deep within his core overrode any other thoughts he may have had other than doing horribly naughty things to his beloved. All the unease and discomfort of dealing with his warring bandmates fell far away, eyes fixated on a coppery mound of curls framing a boyish face and tantalizing black sequins that beckoned with their erratic glimmer. Things felt so right for that moment that life was not only good, it was grand on a scale that scoffed at all previous occurrences. In the Now, he felt complete.
When the second step came down, he was no longer looking at the face of All That Was Right. The patterned carpet flared up and snatched his vision, body fumbling closer to the manufactured threads. Someone had shoved him into the room.
“You were late introducing our guests because you found Toshiya, and told him to come to me, right?”
He cringed under the deadpan voice, eyes rolling back into his skull.
“Well?”
No pilgrimage.
Ever.
Shinya swallowed uneasily. He couldn’t see the assailant, nor could he hear what he had said, but he knew it was Kaoru. That grimace didn’t lie. He sighed.
“Oh what’s that? No answer?”
He moved briskly beside Die, pulling the door shut with him.
“Kaoru, sorry, I---”
“What the fuck are you doing Die?” He stepped right up to his counterpart, fingers sinking into Die’s coat arm. The redhead wondered if Kaoru had been drinking, uncomfortable with his physical aggression. He felt like the other guitarist wanted to fight or fuck him; either way it would be in an uncharacteristic manner and he’d rather it stop. “Who is running this shit? Where’s Shinya?”
Die didn’t know what to say. He looked over to the drummer, stifling his misery anew when he saw his Venus in black. Kaoru’s eyes followed, and promptly shut with an annoyed creasing of his brow.
He let Die go, pacing slowly as he lifted his hands in bewilderment, sarcastic smile in store for his other friend as well.
“Oh but of course,” his voice grew louder, fingers clutching at air, “here, where else would he be? Why would anyone be watching the fucking party?!”
Die also didn’t like Kaoru turning his antagonism towards Shinya. He stepped to Kaoru’s side, interposing his body to bring the attention back to him.
“But, Kaoru---”
Thin black braids hovered in the air momentarily as Kaoru jerked his head back to face his friend and cut off any and all opposition.
“No, don’t ‘but Kaoru’ me Die, I don’t need you screwing shit up right now!”
His aggravated voice struggled to stay louder than the bass and drums booming through the walls. His eyes darted back to the slim drummer who was wisely sitting in silence. He walked towards the brunette, mouth opening in an exasperated expression.
“And Shinya, what the hell are you wearing?” He looked to the vanity table the drummer was sitting in front of, makeup and styling products strewn about like Shinya had a sudden surge of estrogenic madness. “Whose idea was this?”
His bandmates had no answers for him, and he felt like he was babysitting toddlers from an alternate dimension. Fury rose in his throat, or it could have been bile – the details he normally obsessed over no longer mattered his brain was so fried. For a moment, the blank, non-groveling expression on the drummer’s face made him long to wrap his small hands around Shinya’s neck and squeeze until his doe eyes bulged in repentance. In his anger he felt betrayed by everyone – he could not feasibly imagine this night getting any worse or out of his control. This was not what he had signed on for.
The thin body in a dress began to rock back and forth slightly, one hand resting over the other as he began slowly began crushing it because he had no words to deflect Kaoru’s stare with. A drawn out exhalation mixed with what may have been “uhhh” fluttered in the background, Die equally as unsure of what could be said or done. Kaoru looked back at Die, then looked ahead to Shinya – the latter now staring at the floor in disquiet.
Get a grip Kaoru, get a grip – you’ve never thought that way about Shinya. People are just trying to have a good time. A good time, its innocent. Just like the good times you used to have. Good time, just like my whore of a lover is probably having with someone else, since he isn’t here, with me, like he SHOULD BE.
Don’t scream, don’t scream no screaming you’re not in charge because you scream…
He drew a deep breath.
“You know what?” Kaoru held his hands out, then let them drop to his sides. “Just do whatever you want, I don’t care.” He strode past Die without looking at him. Pulling the door open, he paused, and turned back to look at both of them.
“But if someone doesn’t locate our bassist and bring him to me in the next 30 minutes, I’m leaving. And I’m taking my vacation come Monday.”
Permanently, his brain added, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He didn’t want to admit that what his mind categorized as adolescent bullshit could affect him to the point of throwing his career away.
The door shut loudly, but Cascade’s muted tunes lessened the effect. Neither of the remaining band members moved, both staring at the door.
Eventually Die broke the silence. He looked to his lover.
“Shinya? This is serious, isn’t it?”
They both knew Kaoru never showed interest in taking vacation. When teased, he maintained someone had to be more interested in work than recreation, lest they lose the focus they needed to make it big. It was especially not like him to mention time off when there was turbulence.
Shinya absently fingered a newly-formed curl, eyes downcast.
“Yes. It would seem so.”
~*~
Kyo had no idea why Kirito was at his birthday party, and he didn’t care. He didn’t stop to think about who had invited him, or who had let him through the door, or if the coincidence could bode ill for him. What mattered to him was that he was there, and fate had dictated that he had brought his slave of a boyfriend with him. And that they were alone. Sweetly, blissfully alone, isolated in their seats some tables away from anybody who would care to pay attention to them. It was enough to make Kyo lick his lips in anticipation, tongue running over plump flesh and metallic structures all the same. If anyone saw him do so, let them question. If he were to unconsciously drool at this point it mattered naught to him, energy crackling through his mind and body wholly invigorating and enveloping, bringing it all to a single point.
This was the moment he had been waiting for.
Having done nothing other than brood these past weeks, the injured blonde had pondered the jagged rock of Kirito’s being and how to rain revenge upon him endlessly until it finally formed into a smooth pebble of comprehension. In the beginning, his mind had skimmed through what little he knew of the other man from the media and rumors in the industry, trying to find any crucial addiction or ugly secret that could be used against him. This had proved fruitless, as all of the people he knew had very little knowledge about the other man past his work as well. He couldn’t remember hearing, even in their indies years, that Kirito had a fondness for intoxicating substances or a questionable past. The most he could come up with was rumor that the other vocalist kept some sort of large reptile in his dwelling, but that wasn’t much help. It sounded suspiciously outlandish; even if it was true, the thing could be poisonous or put up a fight and leave Kirito un-phased even if he found it chopped in pieces. So when that line of rumination had fallen flat, he had switched his attention to the band as a whole. It was possible there was some sort of discord that could play in his favor if he knew about it. Again, he found himself recalling nothing but useless tidbits about the bandmates and their behaviors. In desperation he had even gone through every single magazine he owned that had them in it, and after 2 days straight he could finally put names to faces and not much else. He then began to doubt his ability to get any sort of revenge at all, the notion ending his short burst of energy and planting him dejectedly back on the couch. Yet he knew that to give up meant that there was no hope of ever being the same again and finding peace within the horrific memory. That a part of his soul was going to shrivel up and die and he’d never be able to look at his own face without crushing repulsion, or have hands on his body knowing the scar he’d bear for years to come. No, he had sworn to himself that he wasn’t going to let Kirito take what little semblance of happiness he had. Even if it meant reliving that night over and over again.
And he had, forcing himself to remember every detail until he thought his mind would be lost to madness.
After Toshiya’s visit, the memories seemed to pulsate with a different light. Instead of the onslaught of emotion he had been struggling with for weeks, the events finally began playing themselves out in a manner that allowed for dissection. The bassist’s presence had acted like a beacon of clarity amidst the maelstrom of turmoil. Gone was the maddening shame, relegating into something momentarily manageable as his mind’s eye waded through the dark and the blood, the pain and the arousal. He knew there was something in there calling him, that Kirito could not have been so perfect as to shield his entire self from scrutiny that night. He just had to find it. After all, Kirito did not know him intimately, no matter what airs he had purported at the time. Somehow he had managed to figure out how to exploit Kyo to the fullest, and the blonde had to keep telling himself he was capable of the same feat. He had to prove that Kirito was no better than he. Kaoru was going to learn that lesson by the end of tonight, and Kyo was determined to take advantage of the other vocalist’s presence and ensure both of them began walking down the path of humility. He couldn’t wait to help by shoving them down that path head first.
He stared hard at Aiji, pouring over the guitarist’s rigid posturing while the two remained unaware that they were being watched.
It had all seemed so laughably simple when he was able to peer closer. When he replayed every step of Kirito’s antagonistic behavior, from the interview aftermath to his assault, there were only three distinct points that could be assessed logically. One, Kirito was prompted into violence when Toshiya had struck Aiji. He also showed very little emotion when he held Kyo captive, raising his voice only when he spoke of Aiji and Kyo’s mistake of creating a situation in which the guitarist was struck. Unless he was hiding something, Kirito had stated his entire reason for breaking the law and risking lengthy jail time was simply because his boyfriend had been threatened. One could infer that Kirito was, from his behavior, willing to sacrifice himself for his beloved’s well being, and was possibly obsessed with keeping the man safe. Two, Kirito undoubtedly hated him because of the event in the SHOXX building, and most likely before then, as much as Kyo had hated him. He had been ruthless in his execution of torture and it had been beyond what Kyo could have guessed the other man, or anybody sane period, capable of. He had seen the immense look of pleasure and satisfaction show through his mask when Kyo had begged and pleaded for release and his mercy. Ultimately he wouldn’t deliver, reminding Kyo why – because he detested him. Which led to the third point which was not as clear cut as the other two, but Kyo was sure there was something to it. Kirito claimed to be disgusted by him, and yet, despite points one and two, he had concocted a plan that created a situation in which they were close and he would have to feign interest to an extent. He could clearly remember the look on Kirito’s face when blood had started pouring and things had gotten erratic and intense, and whatever he had claimed to feel about Kyo wasn’t reflected by the ecstasy in his eyes. Something going on had been a turn-on for him – if he had wanted to simply make him sorry for instigating a fight, and he was cunning enough to hatch the plan he had, he surely could have made another in its place. This was when the point became more muddled for him. He wasn’t completely sure of what the enthralling factor was. By his own actions, Kyo couldn’t envision that Kirito was repulsed by the sight of blood, and again was willing to physically suffer to see his plan through. Kyo was sure that at one point Kirito was excited by the sight of crimson everywhere, and wondered if the other’s self-proclaimed fetish lied in blood as well, or whether it was the wound infliction that he got off on. Or, as loathe as he was to admit it, it could have been his submission that triggered the different attitude. Kirito had become almost tender with him when he was willing to relent to his vision. Maybe it was the apex of all three factors and the fact that they had to do with him, someone defiant and only willing to bend under extreme circumstances. Kirito could have left him to bleed to a point that would have been dangerous afterwards, and he definitely didn’t have to drug him if knocking him out was all he was concerned with. No, Kirito was showing him consideration, and he wasn’t convinced it was simply because he wanted him alive to live with his shame.
“…remember that when…you…crawl back to..me….”
The phrase ate his soul alive in the first few weeks and yet now, it was so telling Kyo’s lips curled into a smirk.
He would crawl back all right. On his hands and knees, forever broken and bested by his superior in talent and wit. But he would crawl with the knowledge that he knew Kirito’s weak link, and that he had something the other wanted.
Yes, Kyo was going to make him pay dearly for every groveling step it took to remind him that even broken pets still had teeth.
~*~
“Hey sister, let a man take you out tonight,” the harshly rolling voice trailed behind him, coupled with a rather forceful grabbing of his arm. Toshiya yanked his arm as hard as he could and kept walking with his head down, knowing the yakuza wouldn’t take no for an answer and probably didn’t realize he wasn’t female.
Luckily the man was alone, or else heckling from his peers probably would have kept the bassist from escaping so quickly.
“Oh I see, go to some fucking gaijin then and see how they treat you!” he yelled after him in slurred tones, “You’re just another piece of meat to them!”
He continued to yell about the murder of a local prostitute that Toshiya had vaguely heard about until someone, most likely a cop, got him to quiet down.
Toshiya didn’t dwell on the event given the area of town he was in and his attire. Several men had catcalled at him, and a few foreign hookers had jeered in other languages to let him know another girl wasn’t welcome in these parts. Ignoring everything he strode quickly to the small club where his friend was waiting, inwardly lamenting his choice of business venues.
The club was well hidden amongst a back alley of similarly dimly lit establishments, some offering sex, some offering conversation at a price, and others acting as meeting places for the best organized crime had to offer. This was the main function of the club he was about to enter, swallowing his unease about more yakuza possibly taking interest in him. He never knew who was going to be with his friend, and in his younger days one particular man of power had been persistently interested in adding Toshiya to his harem, despite his friend’s adamancy that he was taken. But he knew Joe got stuck with whoever they assigned to watch over him and there was nothing to be done about it. He braced himself for any situation and opened the club door.
No one looked at him when he entered save for the mama-san at the bar. She nodded to his left, guessing his intent. She was right; his friend sat in a corner nursing a beer.
“Hey, Teruki!” The middle-aged man smiled and signaled for Toshiya to come sit down with him. He saw with relief that no one was sharing his booth and hurried over.
“Joe-san, it’s been awhile,” he replied with a smile and a bow, slipping into the booth. Joe was not a foreigner and the nickname was nothing but that – just like he had known Toshiya as nothing other than Teruki over the years.
Joe looked him over with wide, but appreciative, eyes.
“Goddamn Teruki, I’ve got to say you look pretty hot regardless of my own preferences. You still doing that thing then?”
He nodded. “That thing” was his supposed work at a higher end new-half host club in an outer lying section of the city. Joe knew prying into his client’s daily lives was not good for business, and that’s about as far as his knowledge of Toshiya went.
“What can I say, it pays really well. And free drinks never get old,” he laughed emptily.
“So, my friend, was it two then? Or are you thinking three?”
Toshiya bit his lip nervously.
“I don’t want to be able to think tonight.”
Joe nodded understandingly.
“Well, this is a good batch, clean stuff. I’d say two for no thinking, three for no remembering.”
“Two then,” he answered with a smile. He wanted to be able to remember things if Kyo wanted his companionship.
Joe smiled, reaching into his pocket and placing a small, opaque Ziploc bag on the table. Toshiya handed him several bills under the table.
“You know Teruki, this old man misses your smile. Come see me more often, can you? I’ll buy you one of those free drinks you like so much.”
Toshiya opened the bag and popped the two tabs inside to the back of his mouth, then reached for Joe’s beer and took a swig. With a smile he stood up and leaned over to kiss the other man’s forehead.
“We’ll see,” he said coyly, and Joe shook his head with a laugh.
Toshiya waved and made his way out the door, smile fading as he calculated where he could get a taxi the quickest, and make it back to the party in time.
~*~
Cascade had started on their other hit from their latest album after Strawberry Moon left most of the audience wondering why Deg let B’z leave the stage. Kyo didn’t notice when the music had stopped, or that a different song was now blaring in the background with Tama’s sugary sweet vocals crooning over a deep beat. He was watching the crowd intently, waiting for a clear opening where he could make it straight to the back of the dining area without running into any guests. His mind had no reaction for the masses right now, focused completely on the nuance and emphasis he would have to place correctly on every word he said for his plan to work. Subconsciously he had run his hand over his hair to make sure it was still gelled down, unaware of the movement as he continued to stare, absorbed. When the activity near the bar ceased for a few precious moments, he hopped off his seat and cut quickly through his peers, finding himself drawn closer and closer to the man who had plunged his soul into such disarray.
Kirito was dressed sharply in a black suit with his hair gelled back, staring at the stage with what could have been great or little interest, Kyo didn’t know. One arm was resting casually around the back of his companion’s chair, but despite how Aiji seemed to be posturing himself to stay close to his lover, they weren’t touching. The sight of Kirito wearing those corpse-like contacts again and the distinct contrast they offered with his fiery hair made him shudder in remembrance of a flame being held near his face and seeing nothing other than that ghastly visage. It almost, for just a second, made his stride falter. But it was too late to stop. He was a mere few feet away.
Aiji, who had previously been looking at the floor with a very detached, pensive expression, suddenly looked up at him. Although he could not hear it, Kyo inwardly smirked at the guitarist’s gasp of surprise.
Kirito turned his head. His expression didn’t change when he saw who his lover was looking at. Kyo noticed the mixed range of emotions skittering across Aiji’s face, but he took great care to only look at Kirito. If his assumptions proved correct, Aiji would not speak without permission and posed little threat.
Reminding himself that this was his party and he could do as he pleased, Kyo walked confidently to stand beside the rival vocalist, who still appeared neutral in his concern. His short body blocked the other man’s ability to see the stage clearly, yet Kirito was no longer interested in the concert. That unwavering stare unsettled him, but he beat the sensation down to ensure there was no hitch to his voice when he spoke.
“I’m glad you came.”
The words felt like acid eating into his lips, but despite the sting he pulled them into a small smile. It was the truth, no matter how bitter. He made sure Aiji could hear what he had to say over the dance hall clamor.
“Well, who am I to miss such a grand event,” the redhead answered in his usual monotone. He looked around with feigned interest. Then the smirk formed, eyes meeting the blonde’s again. “Historical, even.”
Kyo wanted to punch him then, punch that smirk all the way to the back of his face and make sure his entire skull caved in on itself. In his recluse that smirk had taunted him, mocked his very core and he hated it more than any other characteristic the other man had to offer. Instead, he concentrated hard on the unknown image of Kirito’s mask crumbling, smashed into tiny pieces by regret and humiliation. He let his mind toy with what the other’s voice would sound like when he found himself cornered by his own lack of restraint.
He looked over Kirito’s shoulder, whatever smile he had fading to a distinctly unimpressed expression.
“Oh. You brought him with you.”
Aiji looked away from the scrutiny, jaw clenching.
“Hnn, not much to look at, is he.”
A vicious sense of satisfaction filled Kyo’s veins as Aiji’s cheeks flushed, his gaze turning even farther away so that only his styled hair could be seen.
When he looked back to Kirito, the smirk was gone. His eyes had narrowed, and Kyo remembered that expression as well. A twinge of phantom pain raced through his face, and again he found himself having to steel his nerves.
“…Neither are you.”
The flat words got more of a reaction out of Kyo than he would have liked, heat creeping up his neck. He dropped to one knee beside his enemy, squatting in a casual manner so that to any curious onlooker, the two seemed like friends. He continued like the barb meant nothing to him, hoping the dim lights obscured any coloring that may betray his awkwardness.
“And yet, you’re staring at me.”
The sunken eyes narrowed further, and Kyo eagerly realized that was not what Kirito had expected him to say, and in turn, had no immediate response. The pale, square jaw shifted as he imagined the other man reigning in his anger at being addressed so. He made sure that there was no trace of smugness in his features though. His plan was not to insult his adversary.
Kirito leaned in closer to the small figure, any hint of charisma dead in the icy tone that followed.
“What is it you want, Kyo?”
A small part of him felt intimidated by the close proximity of his tormentor. His voice had lowered to a volume only the blonde could hear. Kirito no longer appeared willing to tolerate any more games, and although he knew it was unlikely, a sliver of fear spread within his heart that he could fall prey to his wrath again and be unable to stop it. After all, he had had no way of foreseeing that the kichigai would stalk him in such a manner, and no way of knowing if the man were to do so again.
I can’t lose him, not yet….
With a hard swallow, he reminded himself that he needed that fear. He needed whatever it took to make Kirito believe he was coming to him in earnest, against his logical will.
He will expect me to be afraid of him on some level, he assured himself, dismissing the notion that his dread may be uncontrollable. He gets off on intimidation, like every other fucking nutjob out there.
“I wanted to...talk to you.”
The older man fixed his gaze over Kyo’s head and back on the stage, beginning to pull his body back upright in apathy.
Kyo rested his hand against the side of Kirito’s knee, fingers pressing against his pant leg with urgent force. He never took his eyes off the other man’s face.
“To…plead..with you.”
Kyo used all of his self control not to choke on those words.
The redhead stopped moving and looked back down, interest piqued again. This time, he leaned close enough so that the blonde could smell his cologne, ear ready to hear Kyo’s confession and absolve him of his sins against his better.
“Yes?”
You have to do this, his mind commanded him, all of the emotions that had harassed him daily swirling about his gut and making him want to vomit. If you stop now it will only be worse!
That unnerving stare…his lips felt so dry, his throat parched….
He smelled like this then, he wore this same cologne….
“You were right,” he said so quietly it was almost a whisper, bringing his lips closer to the pallid crescent that peeked out from behind the dye. His hand still rested against the other vocalist’s leg, short nails digging deeper into the fabric on their own accord. “I thought I had suffered enough for my transgressions, but it won’t stop. You fill my mind.”
Terror pierced his heart when silence reached his lips. Crimson filled his vision when he turned his head slightly, propelled by the horrible notion that he may say the wrong thing, ruin all of his glorious revenge which he had fervently anticipated with just a few words. That Kirito would call him a fool while the world readily devoured his clumsiness. He wanted to see the white eyes then, a blank stare that at the very least would not leave him alone in the dim light, on the brink of a fathomless darkness.
He continued, breath coming faster as he kept telling himself over and over again that he had to say these things to come out on top, that there was no truth to them other than what he pretended to be true. That it would all be okay if he kept going and remembered this was going to work, because it had to work.
I won’t let Toshiya love another broken, incompetent man…
His eyes closed, an aggravating sheen of tears forming in the corner of them as he heard his voice continue, echoing strongly in his mind.
“Nothing has, or will, compare to that moment.”
The walls of his throat restricted.
“Ruin me further. Please.”
Kyo could only hear his own heart beating when he pulled away, bracing himself for the inevitable derision that was going to follow. Kirito said nothing, regarding him intently, searching his face for any crack of insincerity. Apparently satisfied, he leaned closer again, a simple syllable of laughter leaving his lips and curling about his rival’s face. His eyes held no merriment, impassively placing the burden of proof on Kyo’s shoulders.
“You want my destruction, don’t you?” he pressed, waiting for those manufactured eyes to grow heavy with the lull of domination, “You savor it. I want more.”
Images of what more entailed sped through his mind, stains of bright red teasing him, leading him to think of the taste again…the taste of his life, of Kirito’s life…the pain of his chest being carved into pieces…the feeling of single rivulet running down his brow to his cheek….the intense excitement of watching the redhead cut into himself unabashedly…
His face grew warm, blood rushing to his groin unexpectedly.
“You know I can’t turn to anyone else,” Kyo hissed, desperate to ignore the reaction his body was now having. The sudden arousal was not part of his plan and it angered him that Kirito’s proximity was affecting him so. “You have marked me. He’ll understand.”
Kirito settled a hand on his shoulder, spreading his thumb to rest gently on Kyo’s collarbone. He smiled, a smile that implied nothing other than patience. Patience providing a thin barrier that held back an enormous flood of venom and rage. The grip on his shoulder had initially felt like very little, but as Kirito spoke, the strength of his fingers began crushing against key points in his bone structure and almost caused the blonde to buckle further down onto the floor.
“Do not bring him into this. There is nothing to understand.”
There was no mistaking the threat in his voice. Warmth raced through Kyo’s veins faster than any drug, a small taste of triumph all he needed to finish this ordeal. The pain seemed a small price to pay to continue, words coming in a more halted fashion but leaving his lips all the same.
“Oh but he will; at least, he will when I explain to him why it must be this way. When I prove to him your ownership of this ‘filthy’ body….”
He wanted to know badly what Kirito was thinking when he looked away, fingers releasing their damaging grip. Every word he had uttered that night, every twitch of his lips had been forever branded into Kyo’s mind, never to be forgotten, just as he had intended.
“…I think when I get done with you you’ll be too humiliated to run to anyone, let alone the police...”
Oh how he had planned that, relying on his ability to shame the smaller man into absolute silence. That no police would hear of his unlawful activities, and that the only person that mattered to him would have no inkling of what dirty deeds he had performed during his retribution. Kyo’s mind sneered in exultance, and he waited. One smooth hand came to rest beneath his chin, knuckles pushing his chin upwards so that his adversary could get one last, solid impression of the one he tried to quash.
“You tell very unfunny jokes, Kyo. Someone should cut your tongue.”
He didn’t resist the hand, lips pulling into a genuine smile accented by glimmers of silver. Insolently he turned his face slightly and ran his tongue up one unsuspecting digit.
“Someone should.”
With that comment, he stood up and leaned over, speaking directly into Kirito’s ear again.
“Remember Kirito, these scars won’t fade away. Dirty yourself with finishing the job or I would hate to think of what would happen if your lover were to…..get the wrong impression.”
With a laugh on his lips he began to pull away, looking into the eerily pale eyes of his captor once more. His perceived victory and the serotonin rush that accompanied it made him feel stoned and careless, euphoria possessing the body that had recoiled from everything for too long. With malice and mirth in his heart he came towards Kirito’s cheek for a goodbye kiss, only to find the other man was one step ahead of him, meeting him with painted lips.
Familiar lips rekindling the inferno they wouldn’t let die, the fire that stirred in his loins and was echoed by the chaos of his soul. Soft lips had been parted, inviting him to prove his intent, mocking him further. By the time he realized what he was doing, his tongue was trapped between sharp canines, teeth pressing down so hard that he moaned in pain, unable to pull away from the cinching grasp.
Right as he feared the stippled pink flesh would tear and he would have to struggle, Kirito released him.
Kyo refrained from stumbling backwards, but put a hand to his mouth instinctively as he stepped back slowly, regaining his composure. He could see the firestorm he felt flaring up within him reflected by those fucking haunting eyes, and his mental merriment wavered for a moment. The eyes of a prowling beast peered back at him, forever hungry for more.
All he could do was gaze into them, lost in the realization that perhaps there was no winning when the appetite was endless.
~*~
-TO BE CONTINUED-
- 5
- 6
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