Kingdom Porn Show | By : UtsukushiiAiji Category: J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop > Crossovers Views: 939 -:- 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. |
Title: Kingdom Porn Show
Author: Alexandra
Genre: Absolutely fucking ridiculous :D
Rating: R for lots of bad language, mild to medium sexuality, and many erection references
Pairings: Kirito x Aiji, Ka-yu x Yasu, Gackt x Mana, and various molestation of Kirito
Comments: Created for Hara Mokana’s KxA Fanservice Fanfiction contest. I haven’t been able to think of a short story worth writing in ages, but the idea for this one amused me so much I had to write it. Let it be known that it feels incredibly sacrilegious for me to write Kirito as……less than perfectly psychotic, but, what must be done must be done! The hooker comment is an inside joke; the Dr. Girlfriend thing is a Venture Bros. reference. And many thanks to my friend Tendai for her Dorktator comments! That being said, enjoy! And please, laugh at something to make me feel good :D;;;;;;
~*~
The two young men walked down the hallway side-by-side, arms brushing against each other gently when they leaned in to talk to one another. Their eyes darted from wall to wall, marveling at the expensive fine art that lined the walls and the fancy chandeliers that dipped from the ceiling at intervals. They looked awkward and out of place, clasping their large black towels to their chests in an almost child-like manner. Whenever a regular hotel guest passed them, they could only smile and nod, feeling younger than they had in years.
“This place is full of old men,” Kirito “whispered” in a fairly loud voice, causing one man to turn his head around and Aiji to flush a shade of beet red. A grunt followed as Kirito felt a sharp elbow sink into his side.
“Could you hold your tongue for once, please?” the slim guitarist asked in exasperation, knowing the request was completely impossible. “It’s bad enough you’re making us carry our tour towels with us to the onsen….”
Upon reminding himself of his friend’s strange quirks, the guitarist tried shoving the towel less conspicuously under his arm in case anyone noticed the logos.
“Do you seriously think I’m going to use some hotel’s towels to clean my body?” Kirito shot back, appalled, as he always was when anyone questioned his love of tour towels, “Only old men can afford this place, and old men always equal wank fest, and a wank fest always equals dirty to---”
A bony hand clamped down over Kirito’s thick lips before he could finish his sentence.
“Will you just shut up?” Aiji hissed, turning another shade of red, “You can’t go around saying ‘wank this’ and ‘wank that’ whenever you goddamn please Kirito!”
Aiji removed his hand when Kirito began clawing at it.
“But---“
“No buts! Please just keep quiet and act like we deserve to be here.”
The vocalist quieted down until another unusual site caught his attention. A large foreigner stood in the lobby at the end of the hall, waiting for an elevator.
“Aiji,” Kirito whispered again, “hey Aiji, do you see that big--”
“Don’t even finish that sentence Shinya. Yes, I see him, and you don’t have to point him out because I’m sure, unlike the old man you just offended, he would come over and beat you stupid for using whatever inappropriate English term you picked from watching the foreign channel.”
Kirito’s shoulders slumped a bit. Aiji was always taking the fun out of everything.
“Seriously Kirito, Gackt’s bodyguards don’t screw around. They’re Americans,” Aiji added, hoping that would put an end to it.
By the time they had walked to the elevators, the aforementioned bodyguard was gone. The two slipped into an elevator alone, which was enough for Kirito to start trash-talking again.
“You know, I don’t see why they upped the hotel budget just for Gackt. I mean, it isn’t like Janne probably gets something this nice when they’re on tour.”
Aiji closed his eyes, willing himself to envision Kirito naked with his mouth shut. A smile tugged at his lips.
“No, they don’t because they suck. Or at the very least, Yasu sucks.”
Despite the serious look on his face, Aiji knew his friend was dying to snicker at his own lame joke.
“You know,” he began, the tips of his fingers brushing against Kirito’s palm, “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me to have sex with you in the elevator yet, since it’s just the two of us and all.”
Upon hearing those words, Aiji watched as Kirito’s body grew rigid and he swallowed slowly. If there was anything that could keep Kirito’s foot out of his mouth, it was his hormones.
“Well? You have like 2 minutes to make a move big guy,” the guitarist taunted, pulling at Kirito’s towel.
However, Aiji was well aware that his vocalist froze up completely when sex was dangled in front of him, the same problem he’d had with Kirito for years, and the real reason they had never become “official” partners. Kirito loved to talk the talk, but when it came down to it, he was petrified of walking the walk.
“So I uh,” the blonde coughed, trying to cover the nervousness that just became apparent in his voice, “I see you took to today’s band encouragement then.”
He pointedly ignored the fact that a hand was stroking his arm.
“Whispering ‘your erect nipples make me hot’ during a live does not constitute as ‘band encouragement’ Kirito,” Aiji said with a roll of his eyes. “In fact, I’m pretty sure it counts as sexual harassment.”
“You know you like it,” he mumbled, thanking every god he knew that the elevator had stopped moving right as Aiji started nuzzling at his throat. As soon as the doors opened, Kirito bolted. Aiji grimaced and followed, knowing Kirito would try and change the subject and forget all about any chemistry that existed between the two of them.
“Oh look, what lovely mock onsen!” the vocalist said loudly, pointing to the entrance of the artificial hot springs. “Man I can’t wait to uh, bathe,” he finished lamely, smiling weakly as Aiji came to stand beside him with a dour expression on his face. When the guitarist didn’t respond, he went ahead and opened the door to the changing room for him.
As the two began to undress and place their clothes in the cubby holes provided, Kirito instantly began regretting his childish behavior in the elevator. The sight of Aiji’s pale, unmarked flesh made his hormones yearn for the contact he kept denying himself. In a perfect world, he though to himself, Aiji would get laryngitis and then write him a note demanding sex every 4 hours. That way he would finally get laid without being intimidated by his friend’s candid tongue. And he would take to wearing fishnets, he added, always wondering what the other’s legs would look like tramped up.
“Kirito, why are you staring at my feet?”
The blonde’s head shot up as he realized he had, indeed, been staring at Aiji’s feet.
“….I have a fetish?”
“Is that so,” the brunette replied in a monotone voice, obviously not impressed. “Anyways, let’s hit the spring. I’m cold.”
Kirito nodded and followed, having a hard time keeping his eyes of the sight of his friend’s tour towel-clad behind. He made a promise to himself that if no one was in the spring, he would make a serious effort to get Aiji to give him a hand job, or at least touch his crotch. As his friend opened the door, he heard him let out a sigh.
“What a romantic atmosphere….”
Kirito also looked around, but one spring was as good as the next to him, so long as the water was hot. However, he couldn’t avoid staring at the sight directly in front of them.
“Are you talking about the foliage, or those guys making out in the water?”
Apparently Aiji had been referring to the foliage, the guitarist gasping as he saw what Kirito had commented on.
Two young men were heavily making out amongst the steam and rocks, one sporting short blondish hair and the other with longer, brown hair clinging to their shoulders. But Aiji didn’t need to squint to figure out who they were.
“That’s Yasu and Ka-yu,” he explained, knowing Kirito had a hard time remembering the name of anyone past his brother and bandmates if he wasn’t making them the butt of a joke. “I should have known they’d beat everyone to making out in the hot springs.”
Much to the blonde’s surprise, Aiji didn’t demand to give them their privacy or more importantly, remind him of why he should recognize these two naked men.
“Janne da Arc, Kirito,” Aiji replied to the silence, resisting the urge to roll his eyes again. “We were on stage with them some hours ago? Remember?”
More silence as Aiji wondered if Kirito’s drastic weight loss hadn’t burned out a part of his brain. So long as he could remember his lyrics though, no one was complaining.
“Oooooohhhhhhh. Yeah right, them.”
Kirito shifted a bit, hiking up his tour towel around his hips.
“So why are we watching them make out again? I thought you---”
It was then the vocalist realized Aiji had stopped paying any attention to him, his eyes latched onto the free peep show some feet away.
“Oh my god, is this turning you on???” Kirito gasped in horror, almost as appalled as he was at the tour towel rejection from earlier. In his head, Aiji was supposed to be quiet and girly and giggle at all his retarded jokes and tell him how cool he was and brag to everyone how Pierrot was the greatest band in existence, ever. In reality, Aiji was frequently telling him to shut up, rarely laughed at his jokes, never told him he was cool, and only bragged about Pierrot to his immediate family. He also had a sharp tongue and was too aggressive sexually for Kirito not to pussy out on all of his advances. But even if Aiji wasn’t ready to settle down into the image Kirito had conjured for him, the fact that he was getting hard over something so perverse was making Real Aiji beat the shit out of Angelic Aiji and that was making him panic.
“So what if it is?” the man in question replied, his eyes still fixed on the grope session.
And before Kirito could react, the beast turned his head his way.
“Why, is it turning you on?” Aiji asked in a huskier voice, his subtle step closer and caress of Kirito’s hip clearly indicating that he hoped that was the case.
“Of course not!” Kirito loudly proclaimed, his palms sweating as a finger tugged at his towel, “Ka-yu’s too ugly!”
The gentle sound of water moving around the two Janne members stopped, as well as Aiji’s breathing, as the words Ka-yu’s too ugly! echoed off the walls.
“Oh my fucking god,” Kirito heard Aiji whisper as he covered his face with his hands. The sounds of wet footsteps getting alarmingly closer also caught the blonde’s attention, although he didn’t think too much of it until the steam parted and a very agitated Ka-yu was in his face.
“Do you have a problem with me, jackass?” Ka-yu hissed, ignoring the fact that he was bare-ass naked and still partially aroused. “Because don’t think that I won’t smash your face in just because I’m at some fancy-ass hotel.”
Now let it be known that Kirito had never fought a day in his life, save for the times he and Kohta had fought, which generally consisted of his younger brother pummeling him until he cried uncle. So he was fairly sure that, even if given the solid footing of non-wet granite and the protection of something other than a towel, Ka-yu could have easily bashed his face in, despite his smallish stature. No, Kirito was not used to people taking offense at his comments, generally because most Japanese people were too embarrassed by what he had to say to acknowledge it. But Ka-yu was not your average Japanese person; nay, Ka-yu was not your average person at all. 90% of Ka-yu’s actions were driven by his copious testosterone levels, and the other 10% by his stomach. Which meant that even if Kirito had complimented Ka-yu’s looks, they’d have most likely ended up in the same situation.
Luckily, Yasu was used to this and had followed behind his lover accordingly.
“Calm down, my grizzly bear,” Yasu murmured, laying his hand on Ka-yu’s shoulder. “I’m sure this guy didn’t mean---oh hey Aiji.”
While there was surprise in his voice, the hint of pleasure could not be mistaken. Ka-yu’s eyes narrowed until he, too, recognized Pierrot’s guitarist.
“Hey Aiji – sorry we didn’t recognize you,” Ka-yu said with a toothy smile as Yasu fastened a towel around his waist to force some modesty into him, “What are you doing with Loser McJackass over here?”
Although the steam in the room hazed everyone’s faces a bit, the blush on Aiji’s ears was evident.
“This is Kirito, my vocalist. He’s uh, drunk,” he added apologetically, unable to come up for any other reason his friend would yell about Ka-yu’s looks. He also simultaneously threw in a prayer that if Kirito kept his mouth shut, he’d try to cut back smoking/buy the more expensive tangerine brand for his shrine come New Year’s.
“I see,” Ka-yu mumbled, clearly debating whether the newfound presence of someone he liked should stop him from laying the smack down.
“You guys looked like you were having fun there,” Aiji continued, wrapping an arm around Kirito’s to deter Ka-yu from contemplating bodily harm further, “We’re sorry to have interrupted you.”
Yasu laughed, his pretty eyes meeting Aiji’s in a knowing fashion.
“Well we’ll be having much more fun than that, trust me.” He took a step closer to Aiji, cupping his hand and whispering in his ear, “Room 403. Come by and we’ll make sure you have the time of your life.”
Kirito finally managed to breathe again once Ka-yu’s angry gaze was off him and on Aiji and Yasu. Except when he looked to them, he didn’t look at all angry. He had the same gleam in his eyes Aiji had just had a few minutes ago….
“What?!” Kirito yelped, finally putting the pieces together but unable to vocalize the epiphany any better.
Ka-yu looked at him again, the smile fading from his face.
“And only bring this guy if he doesn’t mind the ballgag.”
Yasu erupted into laughter again, this time leaning his head on Ka-yu’s shoulder.
“He’s so funny, isn’t he Aiji?”
Aiji nervously tittered in response, again praying that Kirito just kept quiet.
“And so cool,” Yasu continued, his eyelids lowering in arousal as he looked to his boyfriend’s face, “…and so hot….and Janne is the greatest band ever….and…”
Kirito’s jaw dropped as Yasu was instantaneously all over the other man, the two making out like nothing had ever happened. Suddenly Ka-yu grunted and heaved Yasu off his feet, clearly struggling but determined to carry the vocalist anyways. Yasu giggled again, looking to Aiji and winking.
“Never let it be said that a real man minds being treated like a lady!”
They made it to the changing room, only to have Ka-yu kick the door shut so the two of them could presumably make out some more before changing.
Aiji exhaled in relief.
“Well then, let’s get in these springs finally.”
He walked over to the edge of the water, about to take his towel off before he realized Kirito hadn’t followed. Instead, the blonde stood rooted in the same position, mouth agape in disbelief.
“But you, but Ka-yu….but Angel Aiji and Yasu….but then, but….”
“Kirito, for the love of god, are you coming or not?”
His mouth snapping shut in indignation, Kirito hurriedly walked over to the edge of the water and climbed in, towel and all. He crossed his arms to indicate his displeasure.
“Oh come on,” Aiji almost hissed, at his wit’s end, “aren’t you going to take your towel off?”
When Kirito didn’t respond, he threw off his own towel and climbed in, not wanting to have gone through all that drama for nothing. When the piping hot water surrounded his aching muscles, the guitarist felt so good he almost forgot the other man was there.
“This feels so good…..,” he murmured, sinking further into the green water.
“I bet I know what else feels good,” Kirito started in a bitter tone, “ – having sex with Janne, am I right?”
Oh my god just kill me now, Aiji thought to himself.
“I can’t believe you let him call me Loser McJackass Aiji. I’m the band leader! You can’t let people call me that – you’re taller than all of us!”
“Kirito, did you ever stop to think that maybe you were being a jackass?”
The vocalist paused.
“And that maybe you shouldn’t have announced he was ugly to the entire world?”
“…..There was no one else in here.”
Aiji splashed water at the other man’s face, fed up with his behavior.
“That’s not the point! And Ka-yu isn’t ugly, he’s just different looking.”
Kirito chuckled. “What a nice way to put it. Why are you defending him anyways? And how do you know them? They seemed way too happy to run into you.”
When Aiji grew quiet and looked away, Kirito knew he’d said the wrong thing.
“You know Kirito,” he started, his tone cold, “not everyone thinks you’re the most handsome thing ever but that doesn’t mean I care any less about you. They’re my friends and Yasu likes to call me sometimes, and yes, maybe they wanted to have sex with me, but at least that’s more than you’re willing to give me.”
There was silence for awhile, Kirito making small ripples in the water in eager attempts to compensate for his lack of a comeback. Aiji sighed.
“Yasu’s a flirt anyways – he acts like that whether he wants to do you or could care less.”
Then came the moment in Kirito’s life where he learned that there is such a thing as putting one’s foot in one’s mouth one too many times, and that even the most patient of people have a boiling point.
“Well at least he’s the same on stage and off, unlike some people,” he mumbled compulsively.
Had Aiji been a violent person, he could have possibly punched Kirito to let him know how that comment made him feel. But unlike Ka-yu, he wasn’t completely testosterone-driven and could enjoy the finer things in life. Like slapping Kirito as hard as he could.
“I can’t believe you just had the balls to insinuate I haven’t been trying to fuck you since the moment we met,” he hissed, standing up. “That is it Kirito, I am fed up with your bullshit! Either you fuck me tonight and tell everyone you know I’m your boyfriend, or what we have ends now.”
Despite the immense heat, Kirito paled. He’d never seen Aiji so angry in his life. And to top it off, he was angry with him, something he was never good with dealing with.
Aiji grabbed his towel and climbed back out of the water.
“I’ll be waiting in my bedroom for your answer, but if you don’t come by before morning, I’ll assume we’re through.”
With that, he took off towards the exit with an angry stride.
“But Aiji, wait!” Kirito called too late, the younger man clearly not interested in listening to anything else he had to say. “…….I love you,” he said to himself, pathetic and dejected as he cradled his cheek.
What are you acting like that for, moron? You’re not going to give up that easily are you?
But….I don’t know how to have sex with a man! Kirito whined back to the voice in his head. He’ll laugh at me!
Well then you’d better find out, or else plan to be spending the rest of your life in the company of your left hand. I mean come on, who am I talking to anyways? Did you give up when Kohta said he wanted to play guitar and brought home a bass instead? Did you give up when your vocalist sucked and no one cared about Pierrot until you took over and ditched the witch hat? Did you give up when you decided red hair and white eyes was the way to go and everyone accused you of looking like Marilyn Manson? Did you give up that time you tried to come onto a black transvestite hooker and you got rejected? Oh wait, that was Gackt. Did you---
What the hell am I talking about? A black what?
Just go! his mind yelled in encouragement, Surely someone here can teach you the ways of gay sex! Go Kirito, go!
“And go I shall!” he announced to no one but himself and two old men who had wandered in. Quickly he made his way back to his clothing, wondering where to start. Then it hit him.
Room 403! Of course! Ka-yu must know something if he can get a grown man to act like that for him!
And so, content that he had an answer to his problem and Aiji would be his tonight, Kirito embarked on the journey of a lifetime:
Asking other J-rockers how to have sex with a man.
~*~
Kirito practically ran from the onsen to his room, or at least went at a power-walking pace. He knew he had precious few hours before Aiji eluded his grasp for good, and there was no way he was going to let that happen. Sure, maybe if he hadn’t been in denial about being gay for the majority of his life wooing Aiji wouldn’t be the come all and end all of anything, but Kirito knew the sad truth was Aiji was the only man he’d felt comfortable showing his true nature around. He barely talked about being gay with his brother, and he never talked about it to anyone else in the band, which basically meant he didn’t tell anyone else at all since he had few close friends. He was way too scared to try and anonymously find someone at a club to hook up with or even try prying around the music scene, because that generally started a rumor mill that spread like wildfire. If you asked any given Japanese musician about Gackt, they were sure to answer with a variety of assorted rumors that ranged from his mirror fetish to him possibly being an un-aging cyborg sent here from space to conquer Japan, all because he made the mistake of talking to people. Kirito wasn’t going to make that same mistake, no sir. He was going to be gay by himself.
Well, sort of, he realized as he threw the wet towel in his bathtub and started the hunt for room 403.
But it was okay, because Ka-yu was clearly gay, and if a guy like him could be openly gay, he hardly had anything to worry about. After all, the women loved Yasu even more for all his gay ass charades on stage, some of which were barely appropriate for any man to perform, gay or not, in Kirito’s opinion. And it never hurt to have the Pierras love him more if it did come out that he was gay for real, even if he didn’t love them back. At least not in that way.
That’s right, he told himself, since he was notorious for talking to himself when everyone else stopped listening, if Aiji and I really do start going out, I can be a whole new Kirito. Gay Kirito.
He nodded politely as he turned the corner and walked by what appeared to be another of Gackt’s entourage, another hulking foreigner in an intimidating suit and sunglasses.
Yeah, that’s it, Gay Kirito. And then when Takeo’s all like, “Man Kirito, why are you wearing sparkles on your shirt again?” I’ll be all, “Because I’m gay bitch and I can! This is the newer, gayer Kirito you’re talking to, so show some respect!”
Grinning to himself, the vocalist stepped into the elevator and pressed the button marked 4. The elevator trip seemed infinitely shorter without Aiji trying to get into his pants.
403…403….403…, Kirito repeated to himself as he stepped out of the elevator and began walking down the hall. He was so engrossed in remembering the room number that he didn’t notice that someone else had stepped out of the neighboring elevator and was walking behind him in the hall. Had he realized that it was Janne da Arc’s Kiyo trailing behind him, he may have been a little more reserved in approaching Ka-yu’s room.
403…403…ah ha! Here it is!
Instead, upon finding the room, he made a fuss over slicking back his hair, straightening his clothes, and even doing that thing where you breathe into your hand and sniff it to see if your breathe smells bad, all of which reeked suspiciously of a booty call to Kiyo. But the keyboardist kept quiet as he passed up Kirito, and when he was sure the other man wasn’t looking, placed his hands over his mouth and ran to his room as fast as he could to grab a phone and keep from imploding with juicy gossip.
Okay Kirito, he inhaled deeply, you can totally do this. And if things go really wrong, you can totally scream for help because you’re a vocalist.
He knocked twice, the silver rings on his fingers making the noise louder than he wanted. When no one answered, he debated knocking again. Right as he lifted his hand to hit the wood again, the door flew open soundlessly and before him stood a half-naked Ka-yu.
Kirito swallowed uncomfortably, all his willpower focused on not tugging at the nipple rings that dangled from Ka-yu’s flat chest. He brought his hand back down to his side.
“Well well well, if it isn’t the Dorktator himself,” the bassist mused in a deadpan voice, ruffling his still-wet hair with a towel. “Did you come here to be a man and take the beating I owe you from the onsen, or are you here to be a pussy and grovel?”
Ka-yu wasn’t a very fearsome looking man by nature, and most anyone who knew him well had too many memories of his loud laughter and love of jokes to find him scary at all. He wasn’t all that tall and had the most slender build of Janne naturally, but he, much like Kirito, had an intense dislike of out-member people and thus was chosen to screen anyone who wanted to hang with Janne, or more specifically, anyone he perceived wanted near Yasu. Since no one else in the band could come anywhere near intimidating, they relied on Ka-yu’s love of self-mutilation and bad-boy attitude to chase everyone off, and the few he didn’t, like Aiji, were dragged into the wild world of Janne da Arc whether they wanted to be or not.
“Actually,” Kirito began once he guesstimated he could take at least three punches to the face before blacking out, “I wanted to apolo---wait, did you just call me ‘the Dorktator’???”
There was a pause as Ka-yu seemed to be processing Kirito’s shocked face. Clearly he did not expect the man to have time for indignation when a beatdown was imminent.
“Yeah I did call you the Dorktator, Pansy McLimpwrist. What are you going to do about it?”
It soon became clear to Ka-yu that Kirito wasn’t used to such insults.
“…Did you just call me Pa---”
“What is it you want, Kirito?” the bassist interjected with a roll of his eyes. Evidently Kirito was too dumb to even get beat up properly.
After a few seconds were allotted for Kirito’s mind to stop reeling from the fact that someone would make fun of his most sacred status as Dictator, the vocalist finally found his voice.
“Yes well,” he started, trying to stand up straighter and possibly gain an inch of height over Ka-yu, “I came here to apologize for earlier, because I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m uh, not too sure what you thought you heard, but what I really said was ‘Ka-yu’s too miniature!’[*] because Aiji was talking about, uh, Gackt’s ego and whose compared to his, and I was like ‘Not Ka-yu’s, that’s for sure! Ka-yu’s too miniature in the ego department!’ because I had heard you were a humble, traditional man who took pride in our heritage and uh, helped out in local festivals and ---”
If Kirito had stopped for a second to breathe amongst his rambling lie, he may have noticed that Ka-yu had stopped paying attention after the first sentence and was cleaning his fingernails. He didn’t though, and it wasn’t until Ka-yu had cleaned the last nail on his left hand that he began paying attention.
“---of course there’s always that lantern thing they do, which I think is pretty cool but never seems to impress Aiji all that much, but---”
“Okay, I’m not going to bother asking what the hell you’re talking about, but why are you really here?” the bassist asked, now more bored of dealing with Pierrot’s leader than anything.
Kirito’s speech trailed to silence, which wasn’t too big a deal for him since his brain had jumped ship some time ago and he was just spouting random nonsense.
“Funny you ask that Ka-yu---”
“Call me Ka-yu-san.”
Kirito smiled weakly, starting over, “Funny you ask that Ka-yu-san, because I sort of came here to um, maybe ask you a question.”
A thin eyebrow was raised.
“You ‘sort of came here to um maybe ask me a question’? What exactly is this about?”
Ka-yu’s eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“You’re not going to ask something about Yasu, are you? Because he’s in his room getting ready for me. Everyone always wants to know about Yasu, but he’s mine, do you understand?”
Kirito nodded as much as he could, wondering if Ka-yu was aware that he had grabbed his t-shirt by the neck and was slowly preceding to rip his shirt apart.
“It’s nothing about Yasu!” he yelped, holding up his hands in surrender. “I just wanted your advice!”
Brown eyes blinked once, twice, and Kirito felt his shirt being released. That was obviously not what Ka-yu had been expecting.
“My advice? About what?”
Kirito shifted uneasily, looking down the hall right and left. He almost thought he saw two heads sticking out of a door down the hall, but when he blinked, they were gone.
“Listen, Ka-yu-san, can I come in? It’s not something I can really talk about here.”
Kirito anxiously looked down the hall again, this time sure he saw three heads poking out of a door down there. Yet again, the second he paid closer attention, he couldn’t see anything. He was almost about to ask the bassist if he saw anything down the hall, but a calloused hand deftly grabbed him by the shirt and dragged him into the hotel room before he could open his mouth again.
“You have 5 minutes,” Ka-yu grumbled, rubbing his hair with the towel one more time and flinging it carelessly onto the bed. “If Yasu calls and you’re still here…”
He didn’t bother finishing the sentence, instead grabbing his cigarettes and lighting up. Kirito got the drift though, and declined when the bassist offered him a smoke, even though he desperately wanted one. Even the way Ka-yu held out his cigarettes seemed threatening. When the other man flopped onto his bed and propped himself up with one arm to smoke Kirito felt even more awkward, wondering whether it was appropriate to sit next to him or not.
“You can sit down you know,” Ka-yu murmured in the friendliest tone the vocalist had heard him use towards him all night.
“Thanks,” Kirito replied, trying to smile as genuinely as he knew how to. Which, of course, was pretty fake if he wasn’t laughing.
“I meant over there.”
Kirito halted his body in mid-sit, looking to the chair in the corner of the room the brunette was pointing at. He smiled again, this time gritting his teeth as he made the six foot journey over to the chair and sat down.
“Now what is this advice shit again? I don’t know what you could possibly want to know from me unless it involves bikes or bass. Which is it?”
Despite the little warning light going off in his head that urged him to forget all about the gay thing and just ask Ka-yu about motorbikes, Kirito stood his ground. There wasn’t a moment in his life when he had actually paid attention to the warning light, so why start now?
“Well,” he began, trying to sound as casual as possible, “I see that you and Yasu seem to have a happy relationship, and that Yasu is most clearly a man, and---”
Kirito picked up the pace as he saw Ka-yu’s eyes narrowing again.
“—and I just wanted to know what you do to a man to make him act like a girl,” he finished hurriedly, finding the floor suddenly intensely interesting. He waited for some smart retort, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief when it didn’t come. Ka-yu’s hysterical laughter wasn’t exactly the positive response he had hoped for, but he was pretty sure it was infinitely better than a punch to the face.
Minutes passed as the bassist tried to regain his composure, failing each time. Eventually he calmed down upon realizing he’d dropped his cigarette and it was burning the carpet.
“Yasu, ‘act like a girl’?” he chuckled, picking up the cigarette and putting it out on the bedside ashtray. “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
Kirito wondered if he was missing something – Yasu had clearly acted in a manner that couldn’t be classed as “manly” at the onsen, so he had no other category other than “womanly” left in his mind.
“Well, I just thought because of the way he acted at the springs ….”
“What,” Ka-yu pressed, now apparently intrigued by the conversation, “you mean because he was all over me you think he acts like a girl?”
Pierrot’s leader was about to answer yes for lack of anything better, but Ka-yu pressed on.
“Yasu may be a little feistier and cling to me when we’re together, but it’s only because he loves me. Other than that, he spends most of his time picking his nose, playing videogames, or making dick jokes. I hardly think that counts as feminine,” he ended with a fond snort.
He looked at Kirito’s blank face, giving up all hope of this conversation being easy or 5 minutes anymore.
“…But,” the blonde started, cogs in his brain grating against one another, “you and Yasu are…intimate, right? I don’t understand how you can be with him in that way if he, you know, doesn’t act like a girl.”
Ka-yu couldn’t believe his ears. Was the infamous Kirito really as clueless as he had heard rumors about?
Even if that’s not the case, the bassist reasoned with himself, I’m totally telling everyone I know he’s half-retarded.
A chuckle escaped his thick lips, but he deftly put an end to it before he went into another laughing fit.
“Wait, let me get this straight – are you asking how to have sex with a man?”
Had Kirito known Ka-yu for longer than tonight, he probably could have seen how hard Ka-yu was struggling not to laugh at him. But he hadn’t, so he assumed it was a facial twitch the unsightly man had been born with.
“Well I’m just saying,” he retorted, trying to look stoic and unaffected by the truth, “you just seem so uh, masculine I don’t know how you can function with a man on your arm.”
“Okay,” Ka-yu put a hand to his head, trying his hardest to channel Kirito’s clueless being, “okay, let me get this all straight.”
“For starters, are you even gay? Or are you asking me this to be obnoxious?”
Are you even gay? The question echoed in Kirito’s mind. He’d only been Gay Kirito for an hour now and he was already failing at it.
“Of course I’m gay,” he replied evenly, crossing his legs in attempts to prove his gayness.
“Alright.” Ka-yu lit up another cigarette, ready to get to the bottom of this. “So you’re gay, but you think a man has to act like a woman for you to have sex with them?”
When he put it like that, Kirito wasn’t sure what he had asked to begin with.
“…..Yes?” he answered, hoping he’d said the right thing.
Ka-yu scooted to the edge of the bed and faced Kirito, his fingers forming a steeple and his lips resting against them.
“Okay, now listen to me very carefully Kirito – are you sure you’re not just straight, and someone dared you into being gay, or you thought saying you’re gay makes you cool?”
The vocalist recounted all the times he’d seen Aiji undress and every time he’d jerked off because of it. Then he recounted how many times he’d jerked off due to fanservice. Then how often he jerked off just because he wanted to, and how he spent most of the fleeting moments wishing it was Aiji working him over. By the end of it, the number had become so large that he wondered vaguely how he could masturbate so often and not have his penis fall off.
“…No, no I’m pretty sure I’m gay.”
“And all the men you’ve had sex with acted like women?”
“…..Ummm, yes.”
Ka-yu took a deep drag of his cigarette and closed his eyes. Oh, what it must be like to live life as Kirito.
“Okay Kirito,” he began sternly, “are you sure you even had sex with somebody? Are you sure it wasn’t nobody?”
The pierced man said the last word slowly so there was no mistaking the question. Kirito suddenly looked very uncomfortable, a light blush cresting his high cheekbones. There was no where to run.
“Alright, so I haven’t had sex with a man!” he blurted dramatically, grabbing Ka-yu’s hands with gusto, “But I want to! Please Ka-yu-san, you gotta help me. Aiji’s going to dump me tonight if I don’t have sex with him, but I can’t figure it out because he won’t act like a girl!”
There were precious few moments in his life that Ka-yu had ever been completely stunned by something. Once was when he was younger and Yasu had kissed him in front of their friends, and two was when he was older and Yasu had kissed him in front of the band. And yet what just left Kirito’s lips sounded so ridiculous that his mind could only go numb lest he begin to turn stupid.
Clearly when God had made Kirito it was in the rush before the holidays.
“Kirito, you do know a guy doesn’t have to act like a woman for you to fuck him, right?” He slowly inched his hands out of Kirito’s desperate grip. “Are you sure you’re not looking for a transvestite, or a transsexual? Because if that’s the case, maybe you should be talking to Gackt.”
“No, I’m sure I want Aiji,” he stated with conviction. “But I want him to act like Yasu was with you. Otherwise….he scares me.”
The blonde squirmed a bit as Ka-yu looked him over intently, obviously pondering something.
“Ah ha!” Ka-yu slapped his thigh in excitement, feeling for some reason like he had just figured out the Daily Double, “Okay, I think I finally understand what the fuck you’re talking about. You want to know how to dominate Aiji, am I right?”
Kirito couldn’t help but light up at Ka-yu’s enthusiasm, his mouth opening in response but nothing coming out.
At this point Janne’s bad boy was beginning to wonder if he wouldn’t be doing Aiji a favor if he beat the hell out of the vocalist. He took a deep breath.
“…..It means you want to be in charge.”
“Yes! Exactly!”
Kirito resisted the urge to clap out of glee, instead expressing his joy in a snapping of the fingers.
“And if you get him to act like you’re in charge, you think having sex with him will be easier.”
“Yes.”
Finally they were on the same page. The brunette let out a sigh of relief.
“Well, for starters, if you’ve never had sex before, he could lie as passive as you want and you’ve still probably stick your dick in another hole altogether, but there’s not much I can do about that. But if you’re looking to become a seme, I can tell you all about that.”
Ka-yu sat up straighter, his eyes misting over with fond recollection.
“Believe it or not, Yasu’s actually the first man I’ve ever been with. Even though he doesn’t have tits, man, there is something too sweet about that ass for me to resist.”
“Well yes, he does have a nice ass,” Kirito agreed, thinking it was the right thing to say. Ka-yu’s narrowing eyes disagreed with him.
“….What did you say?”
“Nothing?”
The naked woman on Ka-yu’s arm relaxed, his muscles no longer taut. The current topic was a huge ego stroker for him though, years of dealing with getting Yasu under control and the current situation between them his pride and joy.
“So anyways,” he began, ready to lecture in the ways of hoping to be as bad ass as he was, “the biggest part of being a seme is confidence.”
Kirito nodded, leaning in intently and committing all of his words to memory.
“You have to be confident in everything you do, because uke smell weakness and prey upon it. One day you’re all watching him cook dinner for you and then BAM! you’re wearing a dress and bent over the bed while something starts to vibrate in the background.”
“Did that hap---”
“So you need to be confident in approaching him especially,” Ka-yu continued with a slightly annoyed expression, cutting off the prying question, “and have faith that he wants what you’ve got to offer. Second, you’ve got to make your presence impressive in order to physically overwhelm him. He’ll get off on it, trust me.”
Within seconds Ka-yu was off the bed and towering over a sitting, humbled Kirito. He motioned for the older man to stand and hauled him upwards before he could consent. He also grabbed the chair by the arm and dragged it out the way, leaving Kirito stuck in a corner with no way out other than between Ka-yu’s legs.
“ So like, you see how we’re around the same height? But when I stand near you like this, it feels like I’m taller, doesn’t it?”
Kirito tried to take a step backwards as the other man pressed closer to him, making him decidedly uncomfortable in a way he wasn’t sure he could identify. The heat of his half-naked body tingled along his bare arms and suddenly Ka-yu seemed very daunting….and……warm?
He nodded, fingers touching a wall. Ka-yu was practically breathing down his neck.
“That’s because you know I’d tear you apart if you breathed the wrong way.”
Kirito swallowed as a silver studded hand was placed on the wall behind him, closing what little gap was left between the two of them. For some odd reason, the closer Ka-yu was to him, the less ugly he became, and the more….something he was.
“Third, you gotta be forceful. But not so forceful that you ignore him saying ‘no’ or ‘don’t put that there’ because then you can end up in jail. Presuming he doesn’t resist though, you’ve got to take charge and let him know what he wants. Like this.”
Ka-yu grabbed the blonde without warning and turned him to face the corner, pressing himself against Kirito’s slender back. The sensation of his breath brushing the curve of his ear made him shudder.
“And then when you have him where you want him, you always want to talk dirty, like this.”
There was a pause as Ka-yu apparently readied himself to mortify the spirits of his straight ancestors. When he opened his mouth again, the voice Kirito heard was nothing like the harsh, higher pitched rolling garble he had grown accustomed to being insulted by. Now what reached his ears was something husky and sultry, befitting of the playboy image he applied to himself, but in reality only applied to Gackt and a few other chosen.
“Hnnn….poor baby, already trembling….”
Thick lips grazed the side of the vocalist’s neck and Kirito shuddered accordingly, a blush settling on his cheeks as he realized he had been shaking a bit beforehand. Fingers sunk into the pale flesh of his arms, the chill of the silver rings Ka-yu was fond of wearing seeping underneath his skin and reinforcing the notion that he wasn’t going anywhere unless the bassist wanted him to.
“You know, despite all your jibberish, you do have a rather nice scent about you,” the brunette mused.
“Jibberish?” Kirito silently huffed, ignoring the compliment. I’m not the one who rolls all of his sentences into one big---ohhhhhh……
Calloused fingertips slid down his arm until they reached his palm, gently, albeit suggestively, caressing the skin there.
...ooooookay Kirito, you’re so not going to get a----
He grimaced as his pants went camping without him, a tent slowly starting to form against his will.
…………..Shit.
A rumble that could possibly pass as a laugh emerged from his tormentor’s throat.
“What’s the matter? Don’t like the tables turned on you?”
At this point Kirito would have liked to answer, except that his tongue had clove to the roof of his mouth and all that came out was a muffled moan in response. But Ka-yu was in his element now, unabashed in his deft manipulation of hormones and smutty words.
“Oh I think you do…,” he continued with an underlying edge of predatory glee. Kirito’s muffled protests soon turned into a yelp as the hand that had been touching his palm slowly made its way closer and closer to the lump in his pants. His protest was soon cut short as he felt Ka-yu’s other rough hand wrapping around his neck in a slightly alarming fashion.
“Uhhh…Ka-yu-san?” the high and mighty Dictator whimpered, increasingly troubled by the way learning to have sex with a man seemed to be spiraling into an initiation into the bassist’s harem. And while his body apparently had no qualms with that at this point, he was pretty sure getting rammed by Ka-yu wasn’t going to impress Aiji in the way he wanted to.
“Uhh Ka-yu? I um, I uh, you need to, uhh, I have…”
The brunette continued his “demonstration” without a moment’s pause, his taunting voice filling Kirito’s ears and drowning out his own feeble protests.
“ I think you like being treated like a whore….I think you enjoy being forced into this corner so I can have my way with you…”
Thick fingers pressed teasingly on the denim gather right between thigh and bulge.
“Ka, Ka-yu, I---” the blonde desperately protested to deaf ears.
“What a filthy little slut---”
“Ka-yu I have an erection! Please stop!!”
Kirito winced as his words filled the small room, what he intended to say in hushed tones coming out at a screeching volume. The young man was finally starting to realize volume control, as well as tact, empathy, and a host of other characteristics, were not particularly his strong points.
“…….and then you follow up with a crotch grab, or an ass grab, or a nipple pinch – you know, whatever works – and take it from there.”
When the vocalist finally opened his eyes, there were no hands to be felt on his body, much to his relief. Slowly turning around, he was greeted by the site of Ka-yu sitting calmly back on the bed, nursing yet another cigarette.
“I didn’t know you could turn that shade of red, Kirito-sama,” he teased, although not as unkindly as the blonde had anticipated. Nothing came to mind as a witty comeback for Kirito, seeing as there were very few things a man could say as he tried gravely to cover his erection with his t-shirt and pretend he wasn’t blushing worse than a schoolgirl full of tentacles in front of a near-complete stranger. “Let that be a lesson to you before you go shit-talking about looks in the future my friend.”
Kirito opened his mouth to apologize, not sure where to begin but fairly sure he’d never be able to look at Ka-yu the same way again. Before he could stumble over excuses as to why he was a pathetic and envious jackass though, a pounding on the door startled them both.
Voices clamored to be heard amongst the pounding.
“Hey, who has an erection in there?! Is it that Pierrot guy?”
“You can’t be gay with anyone other than Yasu, I hope you know that!”
“Yeah, it’s only cool to be gay with other band members!!”
Had it not been for the rolling of the bassist’s eyes, Kirito would have begun to panic further. The last thing he needed amongst tonight’s surrealism was to expose his homo-induced arousal to more strangers. Ka-yu had predicted his panic, already motioning for the vocalist to stay put lest he attempt to shove himself through the window and exit to freedom. Ka-yu no longer put anything past his musical counterpart.
“That’d be my band,” he explained, standing up and walking to the door. “Yasu has them sort of, hmmm, watching me to make sure that I uh, you know, don’t go sticking my dick in anything without his permission,” he said over his shoulder with a weak smile, for lack of a better explanation. With one hand on the doorknob, he began pounding back and yelling various expletives before looking back at Kirito. “What Yasu doesn’t know is that I’ve got cameras in his room,” he added with a smug look on his face before opening the door.
Kirito nodded and smiled back in that “how crafty!” way, all the time wondering how men with such obsessive and downright bizarre natures managed to function as a cohesive unit and not get themselves all thrown in jail.
You, Shuji, and the ever-vivacious Kiyo all began cramming themselves through the door at once.
“There he is!!!” Kiyo yelled and pointed at the vocalist standing next to the bed awkwardly.
“Homewrecker!!”
“HEATHEN!!!” You bellowed, unsuccessfully trying to crush himself in-between the heavier Shuji and Kiyo so he could get at Kirito and presumably assault him by the froth forming at his mouth. “How dare you tempt Ka-yu into being gayer than he already is!!!”
“Whoa whoa whoa!!!”
Kirito watched in amazement as Ka-yu kept them all at bay, as if man-handling three full-grown, angry men was nothing more difficult than tuning his bass.
“Calm down guys – has anyone actually looked at Kirito back there? I mean c’mon, the guy looks like a fucking monkey for gods’ sake. He’s got nothing on my baby.”
There were murmurs of debate amongst the Janne members as they simmered down and decided whether or not Kirito did indeed look like a monkey and was therefore no threat to the sanctity of the Ka-yu x Yasu union they had grown to know and love. Before Kirito could even consider being insulted, Ka-yu threw a rather piercing gaze over his shoulder that was clear even to the vocalist that he deserved that comment and they were now even.
“My friend Kirito here just wanted some tips on how to please Aiji, that’s all. Isn’t that right, friend?”
Kirito wondered why Ka-yu kept emphasizing the word, but figured there were delicate band dynamics at work here that he did not understand and that could possibly cause him bodily harm, so he played along to the best of his ability.
“Oh yes! You see I um,” he looked back at Ka-yu, the narrowed eyes warning him not to start up his fabrications at this specific time and place, “I don’t know how to have sex with a man, and Ka-yu was telling me how to.”
He heard the words leave his mouth, and was surprised with himself that he had actually told the truth. For some odd reason, the shame he constantly felt upon being honest about himself wasn’t as overwhelming as he expected, nor did the words come out as weak as they normally would have either.
By now the rest of Janne had quieted down to silence, all staring at Pierrot’s thin leader intently.
“So, you’re just here asking Ka-yu about having sex with men?” Shuji asked.
“…Yes.”
You crossed his arms in a rather inquisitive pose.
“So you just don’t know how to have sex with a guy then, right?”
“Yeah, that’s about it.”
Kirito smiled, showing his pearly whites for added honesty.
The uproar that followed dwarfed the noise Pierrot was able to make even when all members had been drinking and Takeo collected everyone’s jewelry in order to do his impression of Ayu at karaoke. Kiyo even fell to the floor laughing, something Kirito didn’t believe humans really did, only anime characters.
“Hey uh, listen,” a hand settled on his shoulder, and Ka-yu was standing beside him again, trying to smother his own laughter, “I hope I helped some. Just ignore the guys – this is honestly the best outcome possible. Just walk by them and it’ll all be forgotten, including you know what,” his eyes trailed down to the slowly diminishing bulge in Kirito’s crotch.
“Um, thanks? And sorry that, you know, I---”
Ka-yu waved his hand around dismissingly.
“We all gotta save face at some point Kirito, it’s guy code. But what you can do is find out where the hell Yasu is and why he isn’t in my room yet.”
Arm around the blonde’s sloped shoulders, Ka-yu guided them both past the mess of Janne members taking up the majority of space in his small room and to the door.
“Room 425,” he added as the vocalist now stood in the doorway and on the verge of freedom. “Remind him I don’t like to wait.”
Kirito nodded, grateful just to be getting away from the majority of Janne da Arc any way he could. He turned, about to fulfill Ka-yu’s request.
“Oh, and Kirito?”
The vocalist paused to look back.
“Yeah?”
“Seme don’t let other seme reach for their dick without a fight. Remember that in future.”
With a wink, the door was shut.
~*~
Although a lesser man may have labeled the experience as “traumatic”, or “borderline sexual harassment”, Kirito was running through what knowledge he was able to glean from his encounter with Ka-yu. He may not have been able to pick up on all the subtleties of this “seme” role thing Ka-yu had been so adamant about, but he was pretty sure that it all closely resembled his dictator persona, if only he could find some way to behave like that off stage. Kirito, like many famous musicians, was successful only in part because of his musical talent; the rest of his appeal laying in his ability to act. He had been playing the role of two different people onstage and off for so long now that it had become second nature, and with it the ease of distance and mental separation from the face he put on for the world. Sure, it could be said that his resounding immaturity offstage had something to do with his smothering all human nature onstage, but that was an analysis Kirito never wanted to think long enough to make. Instead, he’d become comfortable being prodded, made up, and told what to do to keep the fans in love with him by everyone and not give a second thought. He’d never assumed that what made complete strangers adore him could possibly entice those close to him as well.
But I don’t know if I want Aiji to like me like that, he pondered while reading room numbers. All cold and uncaring…Dictator Kirito makes the world his plaything and treats people like shit. Real Kirito…Real Kirito uhhh…..is really tired of masturbating.
His shoulders slumped a bit in self-depreciation.
And was never popular with anyone until he got famous, including the ladies .But Ka-yu’s right – people want aggression and indifference when it comes to men. They don’t want soft pansies like me. And Aiji’s stood by me so long that if that’s all he wants, I should give it to him. Besides, normal people act different in the bedroom for fun, right? It’s not all that weird to change your behavior to heighten sexual pleasure, or at least that’s what all the bishoujo games and hentai have taught me. Normal, dorky guys like me always attract flocks of hot chicks and then turn into rapists in the bedroom and everyone’s happy, right?
Upon arriving at room 425, Kirito had decided it was okay to be one way in the bedroom and another outside of it if that’s what life called for. Hiding his homosexuality for so long sort of lent itself to that line of thinking to begin with, and in the end he rationalized that making Aiji happy was worth cosplaying in the bedroom if need be.
Luckily I can’t imagine him asking for something like that though, he thought with a repressed laugh. Manliness is one thing, but dressing up in outfits is going a bit overboard, even for me.
While he didn’t notice it at first, bringing his hand up to knock on the door brought the fact that the door was already open to Kirito’s attention. Indeed, the door to Yasu’s room had already been pushed open a couple of inches and pitch darkness emanated from inside.
Maybe he forgot to close the door on his way out?
Placing his hand on the handle, the vocalist almost decided to shut the door and assume Yasu had already made his way to his lover’s room. Then an overwhelming curiosity as to what state his fellow J-rocker kept his hotel suite in and if men who acted like girls kept girly things lying around consumed him.
He bit his lip in hesitation.
No Kirito, it’s totally wrong to go snooping around in other people’s rooms….But what if snooping around his belongings gives me valuable insight as to what sort of things I should buy Aiji? Or more importantly, what if the cure for cancer lies beyond this door and I would be a fool not to investigate?
Aiji had often teased Kirito that impulsive was his middle name, but fortunately for the blonde, he had no idea what drastic jumps of logic Kirito’s mind took in order to rationalize his behavior.
Oh okay mind, you won me over – in it is!
Taking one last look around to make sure no Janne da Arc members were waiting to ambush him, Kirito quietly pushed the door open further.
I wonder if he wears women’s perfume? Or if girly guys still wear cologne because they’re still men. Does being gay mean -I- could wear perfume if I wanted to? I wonder what Aiji we----OH SHIT!!!
Before he could even grope for the light switch, two strong hands were dragging him further into the room. The door clicked ominously behind him as he felt his body being pushed against a wall.
One warm hand covered his mouth.
“So you wanted to make me wait, did you? You haven’t had sex with me in three days and you think it’s funny to make me wait?”
Kirito tried to shake his head no, for the fingers covering his lips were clamped down so tightly he could barely make any noise, or breath for that matter. When the voice started up again there was a distinct change in tone from threatening to…cute?
“But it’s okay; your Yasu-usagi-chan forgives you for being such a sadistic bastard. In fact,” the hand crushing his mouth relented, “I may even reward you.”
Kirito gasped for air as he heard something hitting the floor and an immense tugging of his fly begin. Everything was happening so fast that he barely had time to register the flurry of activity revolving around his crotch and that something strange was pushing lightly against his chest. Hands were on his ass and his thighs and trying to tug at his cock and his brain wasn’t so sure he should object, because now that he could speak again, it seemed an awful shame to ruin a free blow job. His rapidly growing erection ostensibly agreed with him.
No, must..not..give in…for Aiji’s…saaaaakeeeee oh man KA-YU IS GOING TO KILL ME.
Had he been a superstitious man, Kirito could have sworn the thought blazed in red letters across the darkness right as Yasu’s hand made it into his boxers.
“WAIT!” he yelped, trying to grab at anything to stop Yasu from continuing his siren song of fellatio. He grabbed onto something alright, but Kirito’s mind was still hazed too much by hormones to fully grasp why he had a fistful of fur in his left hand.
Yasu abruptly stopped moving.
“You aren’t Ka-yu,” he said slowly, with a hint of anxiety in his voice. “So that means….”
More muffled movement followed, and Kirito presumed by the heat near his body again that the blonde was standing now.
“Ohhhhh I get it now. Did Ka-yu send you in here to get me in ‘trouble’? He’s in one of those moods, isn’t he.”
Arms wrapped around his neck as Yasu pushed himself against Kirito’s prone body playfully. That, and Pierrot’s leader could have sworn something was jabbing him in the head at random intervals as well.
“So where did he find you? And is he going to punish me in front of you?” His fingers twirled the older man’s hair idly, despite the darkness. “Because we’d been talking about that, but I didn’t think he ‘d actually go through with it because Ka-yu is hmm, you know, the possessive type. He thinks I don’t know the random set of ‘toys’ he gave me to place in my room while we tour are hidden cameras linked up to his laptop.”
There was a snort from Yasu and Kirito tried to speak up, but the blonde liked to hear himself talk. He continued, oblivious to any protest from the other man.
“But what he doesn’t know is I have the rest of the band stalking him. Ingenious, I know. Anyways,” he let go of the brittle hair he’d been fondling, “let’s fool around a bit so when he gets here he’ll be extra angry and things’ll get fun.”
Without skipping a beat, Yasu was feeling for Kirito’s jaw line and attempting to pry open the other’s lips with his tongue.
“Waaaht!” Kirito attempted to exclaim again, his hands pushing at the other vocalist’s chest unsuccessfully. He had no idea Yasu was so strong for such a short and girly guy. It felt like he could shove him through the wall with the force of his kiss alone.
“What’s wrong? He’ll be here any second and I want to be caught in the act or else it ruins the fantasy!”
“Ka-yu didn’t send me here for that,” Kirito breathlessly explained, Yasu’s hands still groping around his body even though he’d stopped trying to cram his tongue down his throat.
This time, all molestation stopped.
“Wait a second – I know your voice.”
Kirito squinted and cried out in surprise as the lights flipped on.
“Oh my god, you’re that half-retarded sort-of-boyfriend-to-Aiji dictator guy from Pierrot!” Yasu gasped.
“I’m not half-ret---” the disheveled vocalist began until his eyesight focused again.
Yasu was standing in front of him in nothing but shorts, a mock collar and bowtie, and what undeniably appeared to be a set of huge bunny ears and a puffball stuck to his ass.
“……What the hell are you wearing?”
Yasu glanced over himself at the comment and shrugged, as if the outfit ceased to faze him.
“Listen, what I’m wearing isn’t as important as you getting out of here before Ka-yu shows up. The way I see it, you have two---”
The blonde paused.
“You know, you sure don’t act like I thought you would. Any other seme would have thrown me against the wall for reaching for his dick without permission or something. And possibly have taught me a ‘lesson’ depending on if he was single at the time or not. Unless…,” Yasu snapped his fingers. “You’re the uke then, right? Oh man, I totally never thought Aiji was the dominant type. But I guess these days anything goes.”
He lifted a finger to his chin, deep in thought.
“I guess he does have that solemn look on his face a lot, and he is pretty tall and all, so yeah, I could see it. And I wouldn’t mind him taking some of that sinewy strength to me and all. Actually, the thought of Aiji being dominant is pretty hot now I think about it.”
Kirito would have stood there in shock had dealing with Janne’s other members not sucked the shock right out of him.
“I’m, I’m not an uke!” he sputtered in his defense. “Just because---”
“Well what are you then?” Yasu shot back, crossing his arms in defiance. He was not fond of being interrupted. “Unless you’re not gay, and if that’s the case, sorry I was going for your cock man.”
Kirito suddenly felt the indignation crawl up his spine as he was reminded of the source of all his problems tonight.
“I don’t understand why I have to be one or the other. Why can’t I just be, well, why can’t I just be?”
Yasu laughed, angering Kirito further because he’d never been laughed at by a guy in half a bunny costume before.
“Uh, because those are the definitive roles our society has set up for men?” he replied curtly, more irritated by what he already knew to be true. “ Sorry to break it to you Kirito, but there’s not much choice for us. If you’re straight you can either be seme or a loser, and if you’re gay you can either be seme or uke. That’s the way it’s always been and that’s the way it always will be.”
“Well what about you? You’re always singing about freedom and being a woman and all that weird shit. You really think one label defines who you are?”
The feisty blonde tugged a bit at one of his large ears flopping forward.
“….Honestly, no, I don’t. I don’t fit into any category, even when I try to. But that’s just tough shit for me. You should know people have to have a reference point. Everything needs to fit somewhere here, it’s our culture. You and I may try and change the way our fans think, but for now, we’re mired in these holes.”
Depressing silence filled the room as Kirito knew Yasu was right, the speech embarrassing them both by being a taboo topic of discussion.
“But look on the bright side buddy,” Yasu said cheerfully, clamping a hand down on Kirito’s shoulder, “you’ve got great seme looks for when you get the moves right!”
Not knowing what else to do, Pierrot’s leader smiled back.
“Oh yeah, and like I was saying, you can either run for it now, or hide in the bathroom for the next four hours or so while we have sex, and then make a run for it when Ka-yu’s passed out. I guess it depends on what your kink is really.”
Not sure whether or not it would seem suspicious that he had had any civil dealings with the bassist tonight, Kirito decided screw it and to go with the truth.
“Actually, Ka-yu sent me here to send you over to his room, so it’s no big deal.”
Yasu rolled his eyes.
“Argh, god he’s so absent-minded sometimes. He was supposed to come here tonight. The funny thing about Ka-yu is, he tends to remember things right around---”
The room door crashed against the wall with a loud noise, startling both vocalists.
“I’ve come for my bunny bride!” the bassist bellowed in the happiest voice Kirito had heard him speak with the entire night.
It was only a matter of seconds before Ka-yu realized he was not alone with his lover.
“….YOU!!!!”
The accusation was so angry that Kirito skipped any logic and went straight to his own defense.
“I swear to god I didn’t touch him!” he proclaimed, stepping slowly away from Yasu. “He was dressed like this when I came in here to tell him to see you like you asked me to!!”
Regardless of his words, Ka-yu was already hurtling towards him at an alarming speed, and Kirito soon found himself pinned against the wall -again-.
“He’s right baby; we were only talking!” Yasu attested, meekly touching the bassist’s back.
“Now you listen to me,” the bassist snarled, and Kirito was sure he was going to end up bloodied and bruised by the end of his sentence, “you and me are cool now, but so help me if you EVER tell a living soul you saw Yasu dressed like this or that I was going to have sex like him dressed like this your life is over, do you understand?!”
“We’re not having sex, I swear, I’d never touch…,” Kirito’s babbling quieted as he realized Ka-yu wasn’t threatening to kill him over touching Yasu.
“I am NOT a furry and just because I love bunny rabbits doesn’t make me any less of a man and AGREE WITH ME OR I’LL KILL YOU!!”
Kirito winced as he was slammed against the wall again for added emphasis. When he cracked open his eyes and instinctively looked away from the rabid pitbull holding him hostage, he noticed for the first time that the ‘toys’ Ka-yu had given Yasu was a collection of stuffed bunnies strewn about the room.
“Yeah Ka-yu, it’s cool man, I love uh,”
Quick say an animal name! his mind screamed.
“--peanut butter so I understand! I won’t tell anyone what I saw, I swear!”
The angry haze in the tattooed man’s eyes died down slowly, his hands releasing their iron grip on Kirito’s shirt.
“You’re right – we’re totally cool now, and you’ve saved my love life, and I’ll never forget it. And what two people do behind closed doors is completely and utterly their own business, and next time I write a love song it’ll be about how wonderful your relationship is instead of my own inadequacies and maybe you can help me get a tat sometime, right?”
Ka-yu snorted, his body back to its usual stance of indifference.
“Yeah yeah, don’t go too overboard with the friend crap. Just get out of here so I can release my hormones before someone other than Yasu gets hurt.”
Kirito almost cut his lip trying not to laugh when the bassist’s comment was met with a swift punch in the arm.
“That’s Yasu-usagi-chan and I won’t have him believe you could take me so easily my dear.”
The sound of Ka-yu’s teeth clenching against each other was almost audible.
“Of course not…,” he seemed to be searching for the appropriate term, “sweetheart. But as for you,” his predatory gaze turned back to the vocalist in question, “if I hear from anyone, at anytime, any remote hint that I like strange things other than men in the bedroom, you’re a dead man.”
But Kirito only vaguely heard the words, already inching away from the couple and backing out the door. He nodded and bowed, then bowed some more, incoherently mumbling thanks as he moved along. By the time he felt the door handle hit him in the ass, Yasu was already murmuring something about loving death threats in between sucking Ka-yu’s face and the two were happily entwined and blissfully unaware of Kirito, Pierrot, or anything outside their own hormones.
He let out a sigh of relief as he quietly shut the door.
I may be away from Janne da Arc, FINALLY, but I’m still not sure how I’m supposed to make love to Aiji besides scaring the hell out of him and then feeling him up.
Clueless as to what time it was and if he could even glean useful sex tactics from anyone else, Kirito slumped against the door in defeat.
But there -has- to be someone who can help me further, I just know it. Think Kirito, think!
Eyes closed in concentration, he didn’t get farther than absolute nothingness in his mind before a large man came down the hall and caused him to stand at attention.
Oh great, another one of Gackt’s foreign bodyguards and their damn height and their damn large feet making all that damn noise so I can’t damn think about who knows more about damn seduction than I do. Wait a second….
He nodded amiably as the man walked past and promptly ignored him.
Foreigners know all sorts of shit about sex! he realized excitedly, ready to trail after the imposing man.
No my child, rethink your decision.
“What?!”
I mean what?! He thought silently, covering his mouth once he realized he was still standing within 20 feet of Ka-yu. Who said that?!!
It is Gackt who knows everything about sex, and this foreigner shall lead you to him.
Oh my god, is this God talking to me? Or a god talking to me? Or Buddha? Bodhisattva? Or am I crazy? I’m crazy, aren’t I. I -knew- this was going to happen. Mom warned me about show business, but did I listen? Noooo. And now I have another voice in my---
Just follow the foreigner and all shall be answered.
What foreigner? We’re talking about my sanity here, and—
Look, you’re losing him, the regal voice pointed out impatiently.
Kirito looked down the hall, only to see the gaijin turning the corner. And while it didn’t make a whole lot of sense to randomly tag after another hotel guest just because a voice popped into his head out of nowhere and demanded it, nothing else had made much sense tonight either and he was desperate. With a quick reminder that Aiji was the best thing in his life, Kirito stealthy made his way down the hall and resigned to stalking the man.
You’d better be right about this Voice, he tried to think as sternly as possible, or I’m about to make a total fool of myself. Again.
Come unto the light child, was the only response he received.
Come unto Gackt.
~*~
While he tried to inconspicuously stalk Gackt’s bodyguard around various hotel floors until they reached the penthouse suite, it occurred to Kirito that he’d never in a million years dreamed of meeting Camui Gackt. They lived in two different worlds – Kirito in Stardom, Gackt in Filthy-Rich-Mega-Ultra-Super Stardom – and thus it had never seemed plausible that their paths would cross, unless he began wearing disguises and buying tickets to his concerts like Jun secretly did when they weren’t touring and thought the rest of the band wouldn’t find out. But Kirito wasn’t about to be a Closet Gackt Fan, not when he’d already put too much effort into being the Closet Gay Guy in their band. He’d never contemplated how one behaved around someone so famous, or if Gackt would even be willing to see someone of his lower stature. He hadn’t contemplated how Gackt would talk or act when he wasn’t on TV, or what he even looked like given he’d only seen him in sunglasses or with makeup. There was so much gossip and so many rumors circulating about the nature of the eccentric pop star that Kirito wasn’t sure what to believe or how to approach him.
Everything anyone’s ever told me about Gackt is bizarre, Kirito fretted, so how am I supposed to act? Humble? Awed? Laid-back? Indifferent?
He was going to go with indifferent, just because he’d spent too much time with Ka-yu tonight, but feeble intuition told him that wasn’t a good idea.
I have to have a game plan. I can’t afford to have him ignore me – my very future as Gay Kirito depends on it! Okay Kirito, think, what do you know about Gackt….
The blonde racked his brain for anything useful he may have heard about the other man.
Okay, let’s see here….
He knew he’d heard Jun say something else important about Gackt, but Kirito could barely scrounge up all the aforementioned without his brain shorting out. That, and the bodyguard he’d been following had stopped, spoken English with another guard looking guy standing beside a door, and exchanged places with him. The other man took off in the opposite direction.
It was now or never.
“Ah, excuse me,” Kirito said in his best English while approaching the stoic guard, “I am Pierrot, I--”
Shit, I hate speaking English! Kirito lamented, studying never having been his forte. He pointed to himself for lack of a better translation.
“I am Pierrot, a band, I leader,” he stumbled over the words, the foreigner’s eyes hid behind sunglasses and giving no reaction. “I want to…I want to uh, see, him,” he pointed from himself to the door. “I want see Gackt?”
“Everyone wants to see Gackt,” the large man replied evenly in monotone Japanese. Kirito wanted to flinch at his poor intonation, but he was fairly sure he had made little to no sense in English and thus they were even.
“Ah, great! You speak Japanese. And very well I might add.”
He watched for a reaction, hoping flattery was the way to get his foot in the door.
Apparently it wasn’t.
Kirito smiled, unsure as to how much Japanese the man understood.
“Yes well, my name is Kirito and I’m from a band called Pierrot? You might have heard of us; I’m the singer and we played on the same stage with Gackt-san today. Well not exactly the same stage but, you know, the same event. At any rate, I was wondering if I could speak to him for a bit. I know it’s his private time and all, and he has somewhere to be tomorrow, but if you could let him know I, Kirito from Pierrot, is here to see him, I can soon get out of your hair.”
Get out of your hair? If he understood that, he probably thinks I’m a fruit. But wait, that’s okay now, because I -am- a fruit.
“……Hold on.”
The man unhitched a walkie-talkie from his belt and proceeded to say a lot of words in English Kirito didn’t understand, aside from his name and his band’s name.
“Hey Darrell? Yeah, there’s some fruity looking guy standing in front of me calling himself ‘Kirito from Pierrot’. He says he wants to see the boss and that they’re he’s part of this tour or something, I don’t know. I think I’ve seen him before, but could you pass along the message to Gackt and come out here and look at him? He may be some crazy fan or something, but it looks like subduing him will be cake.”
There was a response from the other end, but the static made it impossible for Kirito to understand anything said.
“Please wait sir.”
Kirito nodded, placing his hands behind his back and idly looking around the hallway. He realized for the first time that there was only one room on this floor, unlike the ones the rest of the band and Janne were staying on.
The door opened and another large man, this one with darker skin, stepped out.
“Excuse me Kirito-san, but I must pat you down before you can see Gackt.”
He bowed lightly and then started frisking the blonde before he could say otherwise.
Of course he’s frisking me – who -doesn’t- feel the need to invade my personal space tonight, he thought wryly, trying to ignore large hands carefully checking any area he could smuggle anything under.
“Okay sir, you may see Gackt now.”
The other bodyguard held open the door and motioned for Kirito to go inside.
“Thank you,” he said with a small bow, stepping in-between the men who he could now tell up close were at least a foot taller than him. “Thank you,” he repeated in English for good measure.
The bodyguards nodded, again adopting rigid stances beside on either side of the door. The one named Darell shut the door behind Kirito.
“…….¥2000 says he’s here to sleep with the boss.”
“I’ll raise that to ¥3000.”
~*~
Lavish was an understatement. Kirito had seen pictures of fancy European palaces and expensive American homes, but he’d never really spent the night at any such place, nor had he imagined such places existed in Japan. He’d been to some expensive ryoukan, and he was quite proud of his fairly large apartment, but looking dazedly around the room, Gackt living in a tower didn’t seem so farfetched anymore. Not only did Gackt get one of those extravagant chandeliers from the lobby area in his room, he also had a window that had a view, or more like an entire wall of windows featuring the brightly lit city below. He also had distinguishable areas besides “bathroom” and “where the bed is”, unlike Kirito’s cramped hotel room. There was a table and chairs, and a sofa, and another sofa-looking thing Kirito didn’t know the name for, and even a piano facing the window wall.
“I’m in the bathroom,” an unmistakable deep voice called. Kirito looked to his right where the voice came from, now noticing an open door that probably lead to a bathroom containing Gackt. No one else appeared to be in the suite, at least not from where he was standing.
“Gackt-san?” Kirito was surprised at how meek he sounded. “I can wait here for you.”
“Please, come here.”
Despite the gentle tone he was using, it almost sounded as if the superstar were ordering him to come.
“Uh, okay….”
Not sure where exactly in the bathroom Gackt was going to be, or what he was going to be doing there, Kirito walked to the door and then began edging in the room backwards.
“Are you um, decent? I don’t mean to burden you….”
Water sloshed around behind him, the sound awkwardly bringing relief to the blonde.
Gackt must be in the bathtub. At least he isn’t –that- weird.
Although what the handsome man said next made Kirito second guess his last comment.
“You cannot burden one who carries the world’s sins upon his shoulders,” the smooth voice chided. “Come, let us talk.”
“….Okay.” He turned around to face Gackt, averting his gaze instinctively, although he wasn’t sure why. A large garden style tub lay nestled in the corner, the stairs leading up to it as well as the entire floor made of marble. Artfully placed lights glowed brightly and reflected off the warmly colored stone, as well as the large mirrors covering various parts of the walls. There seemed to be some sort of sink to his right and a table to his left, although there was no toilet in the room. Kirito guessed there was an expensive talking toilet lurking about in yet another room then.
“Please, come closer.” A pale hand motioned for his approach, and despite trying his hardest not to look directly at the naked Adonis, the bubbles creeping out of the bathtub caught his eye.
Which was Kirito’s first mistake.
His second was to let his eyes follow the trails of bubbles to where they resided quite comfortably, clinging to Gackt’s naked form. And while he’d only meant to look at the fingers that had motioned for him, his eyes magnetically followed the curves of one muscular arm to one perfect shoulder joint, then to an alabaster neck, all the way to the singer’s face.
Then Kirito had a hard time remembering what happened next.
“You can come closer; I don’t like to strain my ears.”
Before he knew it, Kirito found himself sitting on the highest marble step, his breath caught in his throat as he looked at Gackt. Blue eyes engaged him, and a strong feeling of warmth surged within the vocalist’s belly. There was a pleasant smell that filled the air, like flowers after a rainstorm, or freshly cleaned linens from his youth. Amidst the glowing light and fluffy bubbles, a hand was extended towards him.
“Have you come for my autograph, Kirito-san? You needn’t be embarrassed; it’s only natural that you seek remembrance of our time shared together.”
Kirito knew he hadn’t come for any autograph, and had he been able to think clearly, he may have been able to say so. But Gackt’s words had barely registered in his brain. The lull of his voice was all that he could recall and all that mattered.
The brunette coughed, nudging the hand he was holding towards Kirito closer.
Caressed by what surely was the voice of an angel, his eyes fixed fast on the inviting strands of chestnut that framed Camui’s face and the full pink lips that were parted ever so slightly, Kirito took a hold of the star’s hand, and did what only seemed natural.
He kissed it.
There was a murmur of approval as Gackt retracted his hand from his guest’s grip.
“What would you have me sign? Your soul?”
Kirito nodded vaguely as Gackt shifted his body towards him, now resting on the rim of the tub inches away from his thunderstruck form. The pleasant smell he had noticed earlier was now growing stronger, the scent of roses in full bloom filling every breath.
But I don’t really like roses, he thought vaguely to himself, gaze still fixed lovingly on Gackt’s serene face.
One finely groomed brow furrowed. The steamy air around them changed.
Mmmm, it smells like the shampoo Aiji uses, Kirito thought blissfully and unquestioningly, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply.
“Yes, that’s it…..relax….”
Just as Kirito felt himself melting into the sensation of what surely could be none other than cuddling with his beloved on a cold winter’s night, a random tune and the sound of something vibrating heavily started up in the background.
“He should have turned that off,” the brunette hissed under his breath, eyeing the cell phone going crazy on the countertop with distinct displeasure.
While Kirito was completely resigned to sleep with Aiji forever, the blanket was abruptly ripped off and he found himself blinking and wondering what the hell he had been doing leering so close to Gackt in a bubble bath.
“I’m sorry, I,” the blonde stammered, really having no clue how he ended up sitting next to the tub like a lost puppy, “I don’t know what came over me…”
He looked over his shoulder at the phone that was still ringing.
“Do you want me to get that for you?” Kirito asked, making moves to stand up and back away from the tub, hoping the favor was adequate enough excuse to distance himself. “Since you’re in the tub and all it’s--”
Gackt laid a hand calmly on his shoulder, all signs of annoyance erased from his handsome face. Whatever synapses had been firing to make Kirito stand up abruptly stopped, and again he was sitting in the same position he was moments ago.
....Is he stopping me from moving with one hand??
He tried to move his foot a bit to test the theory and got no response. Before he had time to panic, his host resumed speaking.
“Don’t worry about it,” Gackt said with a soft smile, enchanting the blonde with his straight, white teeth. “It’s taken care of.”
He has such nice teeth, he thought bemusedly, completely forgetting about the hand on his shoulder or the cell phone ringing.
In fact, it felt like he could sit there and stare for hours at those lips and teeth, and probably would have had a bar of soap not gone flying through the air at an alarming speed and crashed into the phone, flinging it to the floor with a loud cracking noise.
Oh my god! What the fuck? Did he just…
He looked back at the countertop, the room silent save for the gentle sound of water moving. The phone was laying in pieces on the marble floor, having been broken by what indeed was a bar of soap that lay a few feet away. Then he looked back to Gackt, who was sitting comfortably against the tub in his initial position, donning a very satisfied expression.
Did he just throw a bar of soap past my head to stop his phone from ringing? Kirito wondered, almost unable to comprehend the event.
Then he remembered that important thing about Gackt that Jun had told him.
Somehow he always managed to forget the little details in life.
“So, shall we continue with the autograph? Or did you come here to see my Magnum?”
The words snapped Kirito out of his important revelation.
“….Actually, I--”
What the hell’s a Magnum? his brain interjected, unfamiliar with the English term.
“—came here seeking your advice.” His wording was cautious and respectful, since Kirito had a weird feeling he wasn’t going to be able to move until Gackt wanted him to, and that he was in very, very unfamiliar territory. Ka-yu may have been irrationally aggressive, and Yasu may have been irrationally hormonal, and he himself may be irrationally impulsive like Aiji always accused him of, but this – Gackt – was not something he was prepared for. He got the feeling being around Gackt was going to be irrationally a word that had yet to be invented, and something he later wasn’t going to be able to recount with his current vocabulary.
Kirito thought for a minute the other man hadn’t heard him, for he now, for all intensive purposes, appeared to be gazing at the ceiling absorbedly. After a few minutes of staring at the floor anxiously while the pop star had seemingly forgotten his presence, he spoke up softly.
“…..Excuse me, Ga---”
“This intrigues me,” the brunette began, piercing blue eyes focusing back on his guest. “I can tell you many things. What is it you want to know my child? How may I, Gackt, improve your impoverished life?”
A sudden fear seized Kirito as Gackt asked his first question, his voice now sounding ominously and uncannily familiar. So much so that he was instantaneously afraid to think, in case being in Gackt’s presence had sucked him into some alternative dimension where such things as mind reading were possible. Later, he would find out that all who came in contact with the man reported the same sort of sensations, something fans had dubbed “The Gackt Zone” years ago.
To love Gackt is to love thyself, the voice abruptly reminded him, Gackt smiling pleasantly at him the entire time.
…..Get this over with and let’s get the hell out of here. You are WAY out of your league, Kirito’s brain urged and he quickly consented. He’d never been a fan of the supernatural and he wasn’t about to start now.
Karma was finally biting Kirito on the ass in making him deal with the one man who had less of an empathic clue and more self-absorption than he did.
“I came to ask your advice about dealing with men…..sexually,” he finished, hoping the question wasn’t going to anger Gackt. Seeing what he could do with a mere bar of soap was intimidating enough. “I’ve heard you’re very popular amongst both sexes, and I was hoping you could give some pointers on impressing my boyfriend in the bedroom, because this is new to me.”
The more he talked about it, the easier it was to say. This honesty thing had some merit to it after all.
“Hnnnn…so you aren’t here for the Magnum.” He wasn’t sure if that was disappointment in the other man’s voice, seeing as Gackt said everything in even tones. “But you are right, I can tell you much about men.”
By now the bubbles in the tub were starting to dissipate and Kirito guessed the water might be getting cold, but none of it seemed to bother Gackt, who had sat up straighter and was now forming a steeple with his fingers as he proceeded to dole out his advice.
“You see Kirito-san, men and women are different, although you can dress them up in each other’s clothes, which is highly entertaining.”
The blonde nodded slowly, not sure if he was about to hear anything useful or if he should switch on the elevator music in his brain. He had started formulating a theory that it was the singer’s eyes that triggered a hypnotized state, and he’d be wise to look over Gackt’s shoulder than directly at him.
“But men, even though you bend them over much like you would a woman when copulating, have strange, illogical features wired into their hard drives that make them consistently harder to deal with than women, and they lack breasts to stare at when they are disobeying you and thwarting your need to mate.” The bishounen’s eyebrows slowly began to furrow as he continued talking. “For starters, don’t think that just because you’re in love with a man that he isn’t going to make you clean up after yourself, or that he won’t complain that having sex in a room full of mirrors creeps him out, or that he won’t demand to meet your parents and family and have your grandparents yell slanderous epithets at family gatherings because they believe you’re committing crimes against nature, or that he won’t demand to be taken on expensive vacations in other countries so that you have to learn to speak foreign languages for the sake of ordering him the dish he likes at that fancy restaurant where they serve snails worth as much as your kidney.”
The tone of Gackt’s voice was clearly agitated as he began speaking louder, the steeple he’d formed with his fingers now having morphed into fists clenched in anger.
“Oh but then, you learn those languages and you want to sing in them and spread your gospel to the entire world, but he says ‘no, you should gain an Asian fanbase first’, but let me ask you this – who’s the bootleg capital of the world? It’s not Canada, that’s for sure. You think I don’t know how many Chinese copies of my works are floating around for cheap? Is that how you repay me for coming to your country and gracing you with the light of god? Bootlegs?!”
His voice spiraled upwards into a yell, Kirito finally being able to move again just as Gackt abruptly stood up in the bathtub and began shaking his fists at the sky, having completely forgotten anyone else existed.
“There is no bootleg of the one and only my friend, there is only pure, unadulterated Gackt who shall save this world from itself and all those who oppose me will lie broken in my wake, buried beneath the weight of my immortality and I CAN LEAD YOU ALL TO SALVATION IF ONLY I COULD OVERRIDE MY PRIME DIRECTIVE!!! DAMN YOU MANA!!!!”
His magnificent physique exposed, soap suds barely clinging to remote parts of his body, Gackt stood breathing heavily with a fiery, possessed gleam in his eyes that shone through his colored contacts. Kirito could only gape in shock as one of the most famous men in Japan trembled in rage, naked and towering over him. He also couldn’t help but look downward, bubbles sliding slowly off of what had to be the largest penis Kirito had ever seen outside of porn.
The muscles rippling beneath Gackt’s pale skin calmed as he slowly came back down to earth and noticed where Kirito was fixedly staring.
“Ah, they all come for the Magnum in the end,” he purred, reaching out and stroking Kirito’s hair tenderly. “Tell me, would you like to apply for the Gackt Job? Very reasonable benefits package, provided you amuse me long enough.”
Speechless, Kirito had no idea what the hell he was supposed to do or say, or if the hand that was starting to stroke his head more forcefully was hinting he had no choice in the matter. Luckily, karma took pity on the blonde for once and sent intervention in its stead.
“Here dearest, I brought the milk and Doritos you requested so you can stop yelling now,” a soft voice stated amongst the clicking of heels on marble and rustling of bags. “They didn’t have any bacon, but I got you --- what is going on here?”
Kirito turned around to see what appeared to be a young woman in extremely high heels and a power suit standing near the open door. Her upswept hair was covered with a silk scarf and she wore tinted glasses as if she’d been trying to avoid exposing her face. She carefully set down the bags she held near the sink, then sighed, looking at the two men in their incriminating position and the mess of cell phone parts on the floor.
“Ah, Dr. Girlfriend! How lovely of you to join us,” the deep voice welcomed warmly. Letting go of Kirito’s hair quickly, Gackt stepped out of the tub and made his naked way to the bags next to the sink, oblivious to the water trailing in his wake, or the water that now soaked various parts of Kirito’s clothing. The vocalist kept his mouth shut, reminding himself that soggy clothes were the least of his problems.
“How many times do I have to ask you to stop juxtaposing me with some silly American cartoon and quit calling me that?” the woman said in what may have been a heated voice had she not repeated the same request multiple times. She didn’t seem to really expect a response, which was good since Gackt was now digging through the bags with gusto, pulling out random items of food and intermittently placing them in other bags for unknown reasons. Kirito figured now was the perfect time to leave before the superstar turned his attention back to him and his “application.” Getting by the two of them to the exit proved to be a challenge though.
“Mana-chan, what are these?” the brunette inquired, attention still fixed on rifling through the bags as he held up a blue bag of chips.
Mana, whose name sounded somewhat familiar to Kirito, had now busied herself with retrieving a towel from the rack on the wall and placing it around her partner’s waist.
“They’re Doritos sweetheart, just like you asked for.”
Gackt did not seem impressed, scrutinizing the label and then thrusting them into his lover’s direct line of sight.
“But these say ‘ranch’, not cheese. How am I supposed to eat something that tastes like a farm?”
“I got another flavor,” she explained slowly, “because you always complain about the cheese powder sticking to your fingers dearest.”
“But----”
“Live with it,” she replied curtly in a very unladylike voice, stunning their guest, who was now standing awkwardly beside the tub and ever so slowly trying to inch his way towards the door. Looking her over again, Kirito realized she seemed rather flat for a woman as well, or at least a woman Gackt would keep in his company. Perhaps sensing that the blonde was possibly putting puzzle pieces together he’d have to be half-retarded not to have put together by now, Mana turned “her” attention back to Pierrot’s leader.
“As for you,” she began, calmly walking back over to the towel rack, “you must have noticed by now that my lover here is not exactly… of sound mind.” Her gloved hand rested lightly on the rack. “I’m not entirely sure how you got in here, but you must forgive Gackt for his actions, and whatever he lead you to believe was cordial behavior on his half. I’m sure you can understand then, why it would be in your best interest not to mention this little interlude to anyone you know.”
With that, she gripped the rack tightly and jerked roughly, ripping the rack, screws and all, out of the wall.
“Anyone,” she repeated, smiling faintly while tapping the gold bar against her palm.
Kirito tried to swallow, but his mouth had gone dry.
“W-what interlude?” he laughed weakly, “I was just leaving.”
“Good.”
She stepped to one side and bowed, providing a clear path between herself and Gackt to the exit. Kirito eyed his handsome host, who was now staring at the bag of Doritos closely, possibly reading the ingredients, or possibly just doing that – staring at a bag in his hand. Deciding it better not to question, he bowed towards Mana and began making his way to the door. Almost home-free, curiosity gushed out of Kirito’s mouth before he could stop it. Hand on the door, he turned around and asked his question quietly.
“…You’re…not really a woman, are you?”
Mana pulled down her glasses in a sophisticated movement and smiled, a cold expression that lent itself easily to sadism.
“What do you think,” she answered in a deadpan voice.
“Okay, just checking!” he hastily noted and closed the door behind him. Mana paused to listen for hurried footsteps on the carpet and the suite door closing. Satisfied he was gone, the guitarist turned his attention to removing his gloves.
“You know,” he began, lips pursed in thought, “it baffles me how every time we stay at a hotel, someone ends up in our bathroom when my back is turned. Are you undermining my orders to the bodyguards or something? …Gackt?”
He turned on a heel to look back at his boyfriend. Gackt was now naked again, watching over a sink full of Doritos floating on water with the bag neatly folded into a hat on his head.
“Now they’re pirate-flavored,” he noted in a very pleased voice.
Mana sighed.
~*~
Rubbing his eyes wearily, Kirito had decided he’d had enough. It was probably almost morning, and he still hadn’t figured out what he was going to do past professing his love and begging Aiji not to leave him. Defeated, he slumped unhappily against his friend’s room door and fiddled with a flower he’d managed to swipe out of Gackt’s room on his way out.
All I’ve got is a stolen flower, soggy clothes, and a newfound sense that karma’s a bitch.
He sighed, depressed.
All I wanted was to be the guy who swept Aiji off his feet, and here I am, more of a chump than ever. And what’s worse is that everyone knows it now. I’m still a big fucking loser and he’s just going to laugh at me. I had all that time, and all those chances to touch him and tell him I cared about him, and argh, how could I be so goddamn stupid?
Kirito clenched his teeth, eyes closed in self-loathing.
Stringing him along for years because of my own fears and now look, he’s going to dump me like I deserved to be dumped. I’m going to die alone and miserable, just like I always feared. I’ll probably have to move in with Kohta and whoever he marries and be crazy old Gay Uncle Kirito or some shit. Oh god, or I’m going to end up like Takeo, going to bars every weekend trying to pick up fly honeys, or whatever they call women these days.
The thought of sitting beside Takeo in his 40s trying to weed out the few gay men at a straight bar almost, almost made Kirito want to cry. He could feel his lower lip begin to tremble, but then clenched his fists in resolve and stood up quickly.
No Kirito, no crying! This isn’t 6th grade and Kohta isn’t beating the shit out of you for lying to your parents about who set the kotatsu on fire. What’s done is done and I’m just going to have to deal with it. I may never have the love of my life, but I have a lot more than most people, so I should shut up and be grateful for it.
He tried straightening out his water-rumpled clothes to little avail. His hair wasn’t settling itself too well either, fingers getting caught in tangles when he tried to comb through it. The only thing that did seem to be working for him was that the flower had yet to wilt, the orchid still pristine between his fingers.
That’s right – I could be homeless, or starving, or diseased, or any number of horrible shit, but I make a living off the thing I love, have the support of friends and family, and not having Aiji love me isn’t the end of the world. For once, I’m going to be a man about something and go in there without whining or bitching about what I’ve brought on myself. He’s not going to remember me completely as a jerk, even if that’s what I am.
With one last, deep breath, he pulled the keycard from his pocket and slid it in the door lock. Aiji always gave him a spare to his room, although he rarely used it, mostly out of cowardice.
Be a man, he reminded himself.
The room was dark, but he could hear movement on the bed. Apparently Aiji had given up on him and had already gone to sleep.
“Aiji?” he asked softly, shutting the door quietly behind him.
“Kirito? Is that you?” a groggy voice answered. There was more shuffling and a click as the bedside lamp turned on.
To Kirito, it was a heart-wrenching sight. The guitarist lay in bed partially nude, his hair ruffled unevenly and his eyes blinking slowly in adjustment to waking up. He was shifting to sit up, the comforter sliding down his exposed chest and gathering on his lap as he pushed himself to sit upright. Even without the makeup, the glitz and glam of jewelry or clothes, even without his signature guitar and his musical ability, he was still the most beautiful thing Kirito had ever laid eyes on. And it gnawed at his insides that he would never have this vision as his own.
“Yeah, it’s…me.”
He hoped the emotion wasn’t audible in his voice.
Aiji ran a hand through his hair and looked at the clock next to the lamp.
“It’s 3:00am in the morning….I didn’t think you were coming.”
Their eyes met and the blonde had to look away, digging his foot into the carpet anxiously.
“Yeah, I sort of got…side-tracked.” Kirito hesitated to ask his next question, unsure of what the answer would be. “…Can I come over there?”
“Sure,” he replied with a wipe of his eyes, patting the space beside him gently. The vocalist made his way to the bed, sitting on the very edge to be polite. He held the flower he had been holding behind his back out to Aiji.
“This is for you by the way.”
At first the brunette seemed a bit taken aback, as Kirito had never brought him something so obviously forward before. Trying to mask his delight, he took it from the other man and sniffed it lightly.
“…..Thank you. This is really, really gorgeous.”
“It should be, I got it from Gackt’s room,” Kirito murmured compulsively, his eyes averted lest he crumble looking at his friend.
There was no mistaking the shock in Aiji’s voice.
“You were in Gackt’s room?”
Kirito tried to downplay what he hadn’t meant to say, waving away the thought with a hand gesture.
“Yeah, it’s a long story.”
The silence that followed and the “you’d better tell me, now” he was met with when he looked back to Aiji’s face apparently demanded an explanation.
“I…,” he faltered, tempted to lie again, “I wanted to know how to impress you, so I sort of went around asking some guys for help.”
“You mean you actually spoke with Gackt? For my sake?”
“Well…yeah,” he replied, unsure of why Aiji had such a flabbergasted expression on his face, and if that was a bad thing. “ But that’s not important,” he pressed on, determined to say what he came in to say, “What I wanted to tell you is.”
The guitarist nervously stroked an orchid petal between his thin fingers, although Kirito never noticed.
“Alright.”
He took another deep breath, more butterflies swirling about in his stomach than he had ever felt on stage, even in his indies days.
“You know Aiji, I’ve learned some valuable lessons tonight. For starters, I think I finally realized I’m sort of a jerk. And it’s not because I want to hurt anyone, but it’s because I never take the time to think beyond how everything affects me. I don’t think about how what I say or do affects the people around me, or how they feel, and that’s wrong. I’ve also learned that lying is a pretty crappy idea in general, especially when you’re dealing with people who can easily beat the shit out of you if they wanted to. And lastly, I think more so than anything, I’ve learned that I’ve been ashamed of who I am all this time, and you’re the one who’s had to suffer the most because of it. But you shouldn’t, because there’s one thing I’ve known all along but didn’t have the courage to admit – I love you with all my soul and I’m willing to do anything to make you happy. I wanted to learn how to be the man of your dreams, and impress you in the bedroom, but in the end, I still don’t know how to be that man.”
Eyes watering, he swallowed hard and forced the last part of his speech out, unable to look in Aiji’s direction.
“So I’ll understand if this isn’t enough to rectify the way I’ve behaved in the past, and I understand if you want to be with someone else. I just wanted you to know how I really felt before you say goodbye.”
It felt like there was nothing to his existence besides his heart beating, the noise thundering in Kirito’s head rhythmically. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath, nor did he immediately realize that a calloused hand had covered his own.
“….Why would I ever say goodbye?”
Kirito had never felt such relief in his entire life upon hearing those words. His shoulders sagged and a ragged breath escaped his lips, but Aiji was already holding him in his arms, pressing their bodies together.
“Kirito, it doesn’t matter to me how you perform in the bedroom. That’s not why I made that demand. All I wanted was for you to finally acknowledge something exists between the two of us, and that we shouldn’t keep hiding it because of what other people will think. All I ever wanted was for us to be intimate, regardless of whether or not it was physical.”
He could smell Aiji’s hair and feel the warmth of his skin against his cheek and his ear was so close to his lips he wanted to kiss it. Instead he shuddered, hands reveling in the sensation of his lover’s silky back beneath them. But Aiji pulled away, resting his hand on the other’s chest.
“And I must say, for you have made your way into Gackt’s room and lived to tell about it, you must feel something for me. I am officially impressed.”
A smile shone on the younger man’s face, something more sweet and intoxicating to Kirito than anything Gackt was capable of producing.
“So….you’re not dumping me?” he asked quietly.
There was laughter in the guitarist’s eyes.
“Do you want me to?”
“No…?” came the sheepish reply. The blush on Kirito’s face proved too cute to resist, and Aiji found himself trying to smother a laugh. The other man’s expression turned serious though, as he took the brunette’s hands into his own.
“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I swear I’ll be different from now on. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to be alone.”
His eyes were earnest, pleading.
“I know Shinya, it’s okay.” Long fingers brushed Kirito’s face tenderly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“…..Even if I don’t know how to have aggressive seme sex with you?”
“…What ever made you think I expected that out of you?”
The amusement in Aiji’s voice made the blush return to his friend’s face.
“Well, you know, all the guys,” he fumbled for the right words, “I don’t know, I’m just…I’m not like how I feel I should be to make you happy.”
Again the fingers met the singer’s smooth cheek, this time gently turning his face so that their eyes met.
“Kirito, if you didn’t make me happy -- the real you who trips over his own feet and fumbles with his chopsticks when he tries to take the egg out of my ramen – I wouldn’t have stayed around for this long. And if I’m not ashamed of the real you, you shouldn’t be either.”
The words hit home, and Kirito could only close his eyes, turning his face ever so slightly in the grasp so as to kiss calloused fingertips.
“….Thank you,” he whispered, wanting to cover every inch of the guitarist’s body in kisses of gratitude and love. Perhaps Aiji sensed this, pulling him closer so that they could embrace again, cheeks softly rubbing against one another’s as they took in one another’s unique scents. The contact proved too much though; the deep sense of joy swelling within Kirito eventually overflowing as he sucked gently at the skin of Aiji’s neck. After a small gasp, the other man cradled the back of his head and encouraged him to continue.
“You know,” Kirito paused to murmur, “I’ve never been with---”
“I know. I haven’t either.”
Aiji pulled away again to let him see the honesty and reassurance in his face. Kirito’s lips were parted in surprise, for he’d never considered that possibility in all of his worries and fears.
“You’re so clueless sometimes, I swear,” the brunette admonished, but his tone was kind. He leaned back in and placed a kiss high on Kirito’s cheek, in an area right next to his eye and near his ear that he had never touched with his lips before, even during fanservice. The action had come as the gesture of a new lover, shy yet provocative in the way his full lips lingered in promise, and he thought nothing of it. Finally the man he had strived to catch the affection of for so long was going to share his bed, and cement his status as his partner.
When he looked back to Kirito’s eyes however, the expression he was met with was anything but clueless.
Something about his vocalist’s demeanor had changed, Kirito now slipping off his shoes in a swift movement and proceeding to take off his shirt with equal dexterity. He placed a pale hand square in the middle of the guitarist’s chest and leaned close to him, his face stoic in a manner Aiji had never seen before off stage.
“Never again will you have to question my love for you Aiji.”
The look in his dark eyes shown with passion, despite the lack of emotion elsewhere on his face. Before his partner could comprehend what was going on, he found himself pushed back into laying on the bed, Kirito covering his warm body with his own. In a heartbeat, the light was out, and all he could feel was hot breath caressing his earlobe and an inviting weight pressing down on his body. Fingers wrapped around his wrists, pinning them to the bed.
“Tonight, I make you mine.”
No sound escaped Aiji’s lips as he tried to react, another mouth crushing down on his own and probing with intensity.
And for once, Aiji decided maybe it was better to be clueless after all, closing his eyes and letting his newfound love pave the way for the both of them.
~*~
Kohta didn’t always get the midnight munchies, and he’d been trying to curb the habit in case it led to any unsightly weight gain. But he’d just had to have those couple of beers with Takeo after their performance, and a couple beers led to another couple beers, and then another couple, and before he knew it, he was sort of, okay, fairly drunk. Why Takeo always wanted him drunk at nice hotels when the two of them were alone together he’d never figure out, but for now, his stomach was protesting there’d be a mad hangover if he didn’t shove something in there soon. He’d tried the vending machines on his floor, but for some reason, they either didn’t have food, or they wouldn’t take his money, or something – his memory was a little fuzzy at this point and all he knew was he’d landed on the fourth floor, determined to find food before he returned to his room. He was really hoping they had one of those potato fry and chicken machines that gave out hot food, but at this point, flavored cracker things would work wonders.
I hope they have shrimp-flavored, he mused idly, turning the corner and spotting an area that appeared to have three vending machines and a frustrated woman standing in front of them.
A woman!
The opposite-sex light went off in his head, and he took a few steps backward, hiding behind the corner so that he may adjust his hair and clothes accordingly. He was single at the moment, and he’d be damned if any intoxication kept him from looking his best in front of any possibly Mrs. Right. After a quick breath check, in which he found out that his breath surprisingly smelled like beer, he straightened his posture and approached the machines.
“Argh, godfucking stupid piece of shit,” the woman hissed angrily under her breath, kicking the machine before her.
Now, as his older brother had found out that night that Karma could be a bitch, Kohta was about to find out that her bastard cousin, Coincidence, could be a jerk when he felt the need to be. Not only was the bassist tipsy to begin with, but he’d also taken out his contacts some time ago and couldn’t see all that well either. Had he been able to though, it would have been fairly obvious that the person of short stature cursing at the vending machine was none other than Yasu, who had established earlier that he was far from any woman known to man. But the curves of his body and the cut of his short blonde hair were enough to catch Kohta’s attention for now, especially given he hadn’t had any hormonal release in what felt like eons.
“Excuse me, ma’m? Do you need any help?”
The bassist wasn’t exactly the forward type, but he was a sucker for a damsel in distress at any time. He felt his chivalrous nature was his strong point, unlike his brother’s good looks which overshadowed his generally dense nature.
Yasu turned to look at him, disheveled hair masking most of his facial features, his flat torso hidden in one of Ka-yu’s hoodies.
“Yeah – I can’t get this thing to drop my candy,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, the night’s sensual activities coupled with him singing earlier having robbed him of his usual candor.
Well, she may not be the cutest of women, but, love is blind and so am I, sort of, Kohta reasoned, still happy to be of service.
“Here, let met try.”
Unaware that Yasu had spent the past eight minutes beating the shit out of the vending machine in question, Kohta sidled closer to it and gave the glass manly thwomp with his fist. The candy bar that had been stuck on the edge of a coil fell perfectly to the bottom bin. He bent down to retrieve it, holding the bar out with a smile.
“Here you go ma’m.”
Yasu was speechless, first at being addressed as a woman, second because of the irony of the situation. His disbelief quickly melted into pleasure at the thought of not having to waste anymore time procuring food and being able to return to his lover, who was most likely waiting impatiently at this point. He couldn’t help but raise his voice to a cute whisper, a flirtatious smile creeping onto his lips.
“Why thank you sir. I would have been here all night had a strong man like you not come along.”
Kohta blushed a bit in satisfaction.
“It was nothing, really,” he attested, modestly downplaying the attention.
“I think a kind man like yourself deserves a reward,” Yasu continued, taking a few steps closer.
“That’s not really--” the bassist began, but before he could stop him, Yasu had already planted a kiss high on his cheekbone in repayment.
“See you later, big guy~” he murmured teasingly, giving a coy wave before turning around and leaving before Kohta figured out what was going on. He was just about to feel smug about queering up an obviously straight man when he froze in his tracks.
A hand had darted out and wrapped itself around his wrist, firmly.
“That’s all I get for my reward?”
He turned around slowly, sure that the guy who had just helped him get his candy bar wasn’t the one using that tone of voice with him.
It was.
“Umm….what?” he said weakly, with a smile.
“I said,” Kohta repeated calmly, his expression now deadpan and unreadable, “is that all I get for my reward.”
Yasu opened his mouth to reply, then squeaked in surprise as he was suddenly drawn close to the blonde’s body, pressed against his chest.
“Aren’t you straight?” was all he could think of to say, now trying to figure out a way to get out of a situation he hadn’t planned for.
“Aren’t you going to do something other than tease?” Kohta replied evenly, grasping the vocalist’s chin and drawing him into what was surely a kiss. Yasu blushed, flustered and unsure of whether he was better off not resisting. Just as he closed his eyes and readied himself to receive the crushing kiss, a yell interrupted them.
“YOU!!!! The other Murata!!!” Ka-yu snarled in disbelief.
Yasu opened his eyes and looked to the side, where his lover was standing angrily, having come to retrieve him. But it was too late, for Kohta had already claimed his lips and didn’t seem intent on paying attention to anything else. Hurriedly Yasu tried to push him away, desperately trying to avoid what he knew was coming.
“Don’t try and fight me,” Kohta said angrily, but Janne’s leader was a strong one, shoving him hard enough to duck under and away from his grasp, taking off at a run in the opposite direction.
“What are you---” the bassist began, but never finished his sentence, Ka-yu crashing into him with the force of a bullet train.
~*~
“Dearest, you’ll never guess what Darell just told me,” Mana said as he looked over his Vogue magazine, sipping tea in bed. He didn’t bother waiting for a response. “ Apparently the younger Murata boy from Pierrot was caught fist-fighting with Janne’s bassist in the hallway. Can you believe it? At this time of night?”
He raised his false lash-laden eyes to look to his lover, who was standing naked in front of the standing mirror placed specifically near their bed. Gackt was admiring himself, as usual. All he got was an uninterested grunt in response.
“Well I had always heard he was the sweet one,” he noted idly, going back to reading about why Kabbalah was so popular in Hollywood these days.
“Mana-chan, do you think my penis is too big?” Gackt asked, shifting from side to side so that he could see his “Magnum” at different angles. “Sometimes I think it is, but then sometimes I think, why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”
Mana sighed, his most frequent form of communication with his boyfriend.
“You do realize you make next to no sense, right?” he asked calmly, setting his tea aside.
“I’ll tell you what doesn’t make sense – why I was endowed with such a handsome and impressive package, that’s what,” the brunette replied, now flexing his rear and watching it in the mirror over his shoulder. “I wish we could make a trading card of it, and include it in my next album.”
Now the magazine lay face-down on Mana’s lap. He could feel the beginning of a headache stirring in his temples.
“Camui, did you hear anything I just said about the people you performed with today? They were fist-fighting in the hallway. What if that got out to the press and your name was mentioned in association?”
“Hmm? Yes yes, fighting over serving me. That’s not big news,” Gackt replied, waving his hand around and then stopping to stare lovingly at his perfect fingers. “I’ll tell you what is big though, my---”
That was the last straw for tonight.
“God, don’t you ever think of anything bes---you know what? Nevermind,” the guitarist lowered his voice, knowing the answer to this problem. He shifted a bit in bed, then, taking a soothing breath, opened the drawer to the bedside table and pulled something out.
A rare, genuine smile reached his lips.
In his slender hand he held a small remote with a dial on it, and four settings: SLEEP, SING, SEX and GACKT.
He turned it from GACKT to SLEEP.
Noooooooooo! a small voice in his head cried out, but Mana had learned to ignore it long ago.
Gackt stopped what he was doing in the mirror, placing his hands at his side and obediently coming to bed. Once under the covers he turned stiffly to Mana and kissed him.
“Goodnight my love,” he said simply, then laid down and closed his eyes.
“Goodnight sweetheart,” the guitarist replied contentedly, picking up his magazine so that he could finish reading in peace.
He took one last glance at Gackt’s sleeping form, his expression handsome even in rest. Unable to resist, he reached out with one hand and tenderly stroked the hair framing the singer’s face. He truly was beautiful, even if his circuitry had been compromised.
On second thought…..
Mana picked up the remote again, and with a sly smirk, switched the dial to SEX.
~THE END~
[*] – Miniature sounds vaguely like the word ugly in Japanese. It was all I could come up with >:o
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