Chapter 13, part two
Figures I have to play around with it with unreliable internet.
Actually, my internet just went out when I went to post this...so let's see how long it'll take until I can get it up....
BACK!
*
Atsushi wasn’t the first to show up at the venue…and he wasn’t the last either. Considering he arrived solo, that was quite a record for him. It was most likely because Ariwara had been staring at his watch the past fifteen minutes and not-so-subtly prodding him to get in a taxi.
Climbing out of said taxi into the damp gray afternoon, with Ariwara right behind; Atsushi couldn’t help but feel a bit sick of the other man. He wasn’t a terrible person by any means, but to have spent the whole day with him had been a bit…much. He was far too high-strung for Atsushi. Or perhaps he’d tried too hard to be “friend” instead of “employee” and…it hadn’t worked out so well.
Yet Atsushi didn’t regret getting out of Imai’s apartment. There was only so much time he could spend there without feeling he was wasting Imai’s time… Or perhaps it had just been the weird tension that Imai had been radiating that made Atsushi feel a tad…unwelcomed. And… ah, hell, what did it matter? He was analyzing things to death like some neurotic girl.
“Stop worrying,” Atsushi muttered aloud as he trudged through the blowing drizzle-filled wind the short distance to the backstage door. One of the stagehands had already opened the door.
“What was that?” Ariwara asked, his voice muffled by the turned-up collar of his coat.
“Nothing,” Atsushi replied dully, climbing the damp metal steps to where he was bowed inside the welcoming backstage warmth.
Hide was the only band member there so far. He sat in the back room, talking to some of the staff. He looked up when Atsushi entered the room.
“Hey,” he called.
“Hey,” Atsushi replied, throwing his bag on the nearby couch and stripping out of his jacket, which he handed over to one of the roadies standing at his side, waiting. She hung it up immediately. Atsushi wandered over to stand next to Hide’s stool, shoving his hands under his arms to warm them up again. “Shitty weather.”
Hide shrugged. “It’s the rainy season. Shitty weather happens.”
“And always when I’m out in it.”
Hide laughed. The staff members he’d been talking to grinned. One asked, “Do anything interesting today then?”
Atsushi shrugged. “Not really. Wandered around. Ate lunch. Wandered some more.”
Standing there, in the warmth and light of the small backstage room, Atsushi realized just how nice of a day it had been, despite his rather lame retelling of it. He’d woken up feeling rested and much more relaxed than he had in the past few days. Not even the weird moments with Imai could dispel that. Then he’d spent the day doing absolutely nothing…nothing even included no thinking. He hadn’t worried about his little…problem for the past few hours. It was…rather liberating.
Atsushi rather hoped that things could stay this way, but some darker part of his mind told him that wasn’t going to happen. This was just a lull in the issue, that was all. Despite that dark prediction, he was determined to enjoy the present as much as he could. It was either that or go mad with worry so…he’d just shut it out for the moment.
It was that conviction that resulted in him being in a rather good mood by the time everyone else showed up. Even Imai’s arrival didn’t bother him too much, despite the fact that Imai didn’t seem to be very happy. In fact he was downright sulky, sitting in the corner and tuning his guitar quietly by himself. Everyone left him alone.
It wasn’t long before it was time for sound check, and then dinner. Well, not exactly “dinner” so much as a time to pick at the food trays set backstage. No one in the band liked to eat too much before going on stage, but the staff certainly had no qualms against it.
After a while it was time to, as U-ta put it, “suit up”. That was when the normal chaos that just bordered on the edge between organized and insanity began. It still amazed Atsushi sometimes how nit-picky a stylist could be, especially since most of his makeup melted off under the lights and that perfectly adjusted hem lasted all of two seconds once he moved his leg. But if they wanted to spend minutes making his hair lay perfect around his shoulders, let them if it made them feel better. He knew he’d look nothing like they wanted by the end of the night.
Atsushi was sitting down, having the last of his mascara applied when Imai plopped down on the stool next to him. Atsushi couldn’t look over at him, but somehow he knew the other man was watching. “What is it, Imai?” he asked while keeping his eyes perfectly still.
“Nothin’,” the other man mumbled in response, the leather of his outfit creaking as he shifted. “Just sitting.”
Atsushi wasn’t going to argue with him. When he was finally given the go-ahead, he blinked his eyes rapidly a few times before stretching his arms up over his head. He heard the bones in his spine creak and pop as the pressure was released. “Ugh, I need to exercise more,” he grumbled.
He looked over at Imai then and saw that the other man sat leaning his head on the arm he’d propped on the faux-marble countertop. They stared at each other for a long moment, Imai not seeming to realize that Atsushi had turned to face him. But then the other man blinked and the world came back into focus-or at least he realized that Atsushi had moved. “Ah…” he said. And that was all.
“Are you tired or something?” Atsushi asked him.
“Nah.”
Atsushi mentally shrugged. Let Imai watch him. It didn’t matter. Reaching over to the countertop Atsushi picked up his bracelets and started sliding them on. The quiet click they made against one another was lost in the bustle of the room, but Atsushi could often hear them on stage in-between sets, so he knew what they sounded like.
As Atsushi slipped the last one on, Imai suddenly spoke, more to himself than Atsushi but he was too close for Atsushi not to hear. “At least there are no windows here…”
Atsushi turned, about to ask why Imai was talking about windows again, but one of the stylists stepped between them to help Imai with the infamous “B-T”. Atsushi might have waited for them to be finished, but it was time for him to put on his boots.
It was about twenty minutes later as he stood waiting to go on-stage that Atsushi realized the night was going to be a disaster. Because his bruised foot was already starting to throb terribly. It had been sore all day as he walked on it, but over time that pain had faded away to nearly nothing…but now, shoved into his tight, unrelenting leather boots…it hurt like a bitch.
Atsushi tried to flex his toes the best he could, but the material didn’t have enough give and his foot just hurt even more. It was too late to get another pair of shoes, everyone else was already walking onstage, so he was just going to have to suck it up and bear it.
So, on his cue, he marched out there and told himself firmly to ignore it.
He did remarkably well, he thought, falling into the familiar rhythm of the set list, the well-known daze of the lights, the well-trampled space between Hide and Imai. Everything else was pushed down, locked out, and another usually hiding part of himself was allowed free.
However, he might have been ignoring his aching foot, but it certainly wasn’t going away. As he strolled around behind Imai during the last song of the main set, he brought his foot down and promptly stumbled as a stab of white-hot pain raced up his leg. He probably would have fallen if Imai hadn’t been there. As it was he ended up grabbing and clinging to Imai in a remarkably non-sexy way. Imai lurched in Atsushi’s direction at first but he managed to keep them both upright…while continuing to play.
It was an instrumental, so Atsushi had time to catch his breath back, having been rather startled by the near catastrophe. He laid his head against Imai’s back, feeling the muscles clench and relax under the slick leather of his vest as he played. Trying to make the whole moment appear more planned than it really was, Atsushi moved to wrap his arm around Imai’s waist, but, to his surprise, the man actually flinched. Flinched.
That stopped Atsushi cold. He withdrew his arm as subtly as he could and, although it felt like the bones in his foot were on fire now, he forced himself to stand up straight and go out center stage again. He tried not to limp and was rather sure he’d succeeded.
He was extremely relieved when he could bolt off stage and, as soon as he was out of sight, he hobbled over to the nearest place to sit down. Ariwara, Haneda-the man in charge of all medical crises-and two other staff members were on him immediately. Ariwara was wielding a flash light because it was still dark this close to the stage.
“What happened?” Ariwara asked while the man next to him handed over a glass of water and the third began to fan Atsushi’s face with a plastic fan.
Atsushi’s lips twisted in a grimace. It seemed the staff had noticed. “I stepped down wrong.”
“Did you twist your ankle?” Haneda, an older man with glasses, asked softly, kneeling down to take Atsushi’s foot in his two hands. Atsushi was quickly reminded of Imai from the day before with the gesture…
“No. It’s just-”
At that point Hide appeared, sweat-soaked and eager for a towel. Then came U-ta, bouncy as usual. Then no one. Atsushi, ignoring Ariwara’s attempt to get him to continue, watched the stage entrance, and after a rather long wait Anii appeared literally pulling Imai in tow. Imai’s face was extremely pale under the running stage makeup and Atsushi felt his heart clench. Pressing his lips together firmly, he looked away. He couldn’t quite name what he was feeling, but none of it was very happy. Apparently he should have known better… But…Imai had never reacted like that before… He’d never flinched. He’d been known to nudge Atsushi away gently when he needed more space, and that was fine. But to act like Atsushi was some nasty thing he needed to shy away from…
Atsushi was hastily snapped from his thoughts as blinding pain ran up his leg and he hissed out loud. Looking down through teary eyes he saw Haneda there pressing down on the leather around his foot. “What are you doing?” Atsushi asked in a sharp, pain-filled whisper.
“You didn’t break it or anything, did you?” Ariwara asked while Haneda looked up to hear the answer. Atsushi remembered then that neither man had been there for the foot-bruising accident.
“No! And stop pushing on it!” Atsushi finished in a hiss, clenching his teeth hard as Haneda prodded again.
“We should wrap it up before you go back out there…” Ariwara suggested.
“No, then we might not be able to get his foot back into the boot,” Haneda said, finally putting Atsushi’s foot down. “We can’t wrap it too tight because then you’d cut off the circulation and once it’s free of the leather I’m sure it’ll start to swell…”
Atsushi closed his eyes as they continued to argue in urgent whispers. He could hear the shouts of the crowd, screaming for more. And he was going to give it to them, no matter what. He just…wanted to sit for a moment, that was all…
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. Atsushi looked up and Anii was there, a worried look on his face. “It’s the foot, isn’t it?” he asked. Atsushi could only nod.
Anii didn’t say anything else, but his face was troubled. He kept his hand on Atsushi’s shoulder though and that made him feel a little bit better…
“We have to get out there soon…” Hide murmured after a while. U-ta nodded from where he sat watching the unfolding foot-crisis with a frown. And Imai…Atsushi couldn’t even see the other man in the darkness behind stage, but he had to be there somewhere.
“You’re right,” Atsushi said, and he physically pushed away Haneda with his other foot. It wasn’t a hard shove by any means. The other man moved only because he was surprised. Taking the opportunity, Atsushi heaved himself to his feet. His foot protested, but it wasn’t as bad as before…either that or he was getting used to it again.
Atsushi met U-ta’s eyes across the distance and nodded. U-ta nodded in return and, quirking a smile, he disappeared back on-stage to a roaring applause. Anii, having released Atsushi’s shoulder when he stood, patted his arm once before following his brother.
Then it was Hide’s turn…and soon Imai was forced to appear out of the darkness. He started to walk right past Atsushi but soon slowed to a halt and turned to look at him, his dark eyes gleaming in the light of Ariwara’s flash light. He looked about to say something, but stopped as soon as his mouth opened. After hesitating a moment more, Imai spun around and escaped on-stage.
Atsushi watched him go with the same expression he’d been wearing since Imai had appeared out of the dark-cold blankness. He couldn’t think about things like that. It was going to take all of his determination to get out there and finish this.
That was exactly what he did. He shoved his stage face back into place and strolled out in front of everyone without any hint of a limp. He stayed away from Imai’s side of the stage however, wandering around the crowd on Hide’s side. He didn’t dare go too close to the edge though. Falling off would be ten times worse physically than just collapsing on stage. Although there could be another excuse if he fell off the edge… He hadn’t seen it, he wasn’t paying attention… But he just didn’t want to think of that.
At long last, as his band mates were drawing out the last few stanza of the last song, Atsushi left the stage. He walked right past the anxious Chiba who stood waiting for him. He’d apparently been called from the place he hung out during the show with news of Atsushi’s injury. Atsushi didn’t stop walking until he came upon the smaller of the dressing rooms where he gratefully sank down on the plush chairs against the wall and tossed his leg up on the table in front of him.
It didn’t take long for Haneda to show up, Chiba and Ariwara in tow. The man began to undo the zipper on Atsushi’s boot. “Get me some ice, would you?” he asked Ariwara.
Atsushi, lips pressed tight in pain, titled his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. It was hard to relax though with all his muscles stiff and waiting for any pain that came from them jostling his foot.
Haneda was good at his job though, despite his early propensity for slight torture, and he had Atsushi’s boot off and a small bag of ice laying across the evil looking bruise that Atsushi knew was on his foot.
“I was right, it’s starting to swell,” the older man said softly. He touched Atsushi’s knee with gentle fingers and Atsushi opened his eyes in surprise, looking down at him. The man smiled in reassurance. “Just stay here for a bit with the ice on it and that should go down.”
Atsushi nodded, before closing his eyes again. The ice was like needles against his skin, but he was sure that would fade in time as it began to melt. Now that no one was prodding at him, he was able to relax a bit more, the tension loosening in his over-tired legs.
He wasn’t sure when it happened, but soon Atsushi found himself in the room alone and the door had been closed partially so that only a thin stream of light crept into the room. It seemed they had figured out what he needed most of all-time to sit alone.
Atsushi shifted in his chair cautiously, not wanting to dislodge the ice on his foot, but needing to stretch his thighs that were beginning to fall asleep where they were pressed against the cushion. The icepack wasn’t so cold anymore, but at least the pain had diminished slightly.
Atsushi’s whole body tensed as the ice was removed from his foot and apparently turned over, because the other side was a bit colder, but not by much. A voice spoke before Atsushi had a chance to react. “I thought you were sleeping there at first.”
Atsushi recognized Adam’s voice immediately. Eyes fully open now, he struggled to sit up. Adam was perched on the edge of the table, back to Atsushi as he fiddled with the icepack. “I told you to leave me alone,” Atsushi reminded him in the darkest voice he could muster.
“I was watching your show-the first one I’ve ever seen, actually. That was one part of the research we didn’t really get to yet,” the other man continued, seeming to ignore Atsushi completely. He pushed down gently on the icepack, as if trying to urge more of the cold into Atsushi’s foot, but all it accomplished was making Atsushi wince. Adam relented immediately.
“If you don’t get out of here I-” What had started out as a surprising fierce statement dwindled to nothing as Atsushi realized there wasn’t much he could do. What, call security on an invisible man? Atsushi was sorely tempted to kick Adam with his good foot though.
“You know,” Adam continued, his fingers moving the melted water around in the bag. It was like a second-hand massage. He still wasn’t looking in Atsushi’s direction. “I was thinking of what you’d said. At the onsen. About how it’s something you have to do. Making this music, that is.” Adam turned around then and the look on his face startled Atsushi breathless.
Atsushi could only stare as Adam spun around to kneel on the table, straddling Atsushi’s legs. He leaned forward, eyes bright. “I see exactly where your passion lies,” he murmured, but Atsushi barely heard him over his now wildly beating heart.
Atsushi tried to back away from the man in front of him, but he couldn’t get far with the chair back behind him. “What are you-” he began but he was cut off when Adam lunged forward and kissed him. Hard.
Atsushi’s whole body jerked in surprise and he was vaguely aware of the package of melted ice sliding off his foot. He was a bit too busy to worry about that though. Because he’d caught him speaking, Adam’s tongue had open access to Atsushi’s mouth, and Atsushi was fighting to get it out again. He reached up one hand to push at the other man’s shoulder, and he would have used his other except Adam quickly pinned it down. Adam was surprising warm under Atsushi’s fingers though, as though he was radiating heat…but he couldn’t be, since he was dead. Right?
That moment of confusion was enough for Adam to press his advantage. Sliding up Atsushi’s body, he pushed him tight against the back of the chair and, tilting Atsushi’s chin up with his free hand, continued to plunder his mouth.
Atsushi tried to squirm as best he could with a remarkably heavy man nearly sitting on top of him, but then Adam’s hand left his chin and began to stroke his cheek, smooth through his hair and that…actually felt quite nice… Atsushi might have been able to relax into such attention accept for a more pressing issue…he couldn’t breathe.
Apparently being dead meant that Adam forgot the need for air. Atsushi reached up and yanked as hard as he could on the back of Adam’s collar. It was hard to do from the awkward angle of being underneath him, but it was enough to give the hint. It must have clicked in the other man’s mind because he actually relented this time, leaning back quickly so that Atsushi could gasp.
“I forgot,” Adam admitted a tad sheepishly, leaning his arms against Atsushi’s shoulders and toying with his hair. This move kept him effectively locked in place. Adam’s face was only inches away as Atsushi lay there panting and trying to stop the dizzy spinning in his head from lack of oxygen. “You really are very beautiful, you know that?” Adam asked softly once Atsushi was breathing close to normally again. One of his hands slipped down to rest against the pulse in Atsushi’s neck, which he could probably feel pounding away.
“Get off of me,” Atsushi growled. He couldn’t do more than that because he knew his voice would quaver. Despite the fact that Adam was dead he was radiating heat like a living man and Atsushi found that very disconcerting. It was rather difficult to believe he was actually dead-he was there, he was warm, he had a human shape that Atsushi could easily feel-it was only the firm chanting of the word “dead dead dead” in Atsushi’s mind that kept that part in focus.
Adam’s face was sad as he toyed with Atsushi’s hair some more. “I think I understand…But I just wanted you to know anyway… And it’s more than this that I find beautiful,” he added, tugging a bit on Atsushi’s hair. “You should see your eyes when you’re onstage,” he murmured against Atsushi’s lips before kissing him again.
And Atsushi let him…and that surprised him. He didn’t like it…but he just couldn’t bring himself to fight it. It was the first attention of this kind he’d gotten in weeks it seemed and he was…tired.
Adam didn’t hold the kiss as long this time, nor was he able to go in too deep since Atsushi kept his lips closed and Adam was at least conscientious enough that time not to try to get them open.
It was when he was drawing back, however, that the door opened, sending bright light flooding into the room to cascade over the two of them. Atsushi turned his head in that instant, squinting in the sudden light and trying to sit up, but Adam was still in the way. But his weight changed. It was a quick shift but Atsushi noticed it keenly. He went from being solid and warm to a sort of…after-image, and Atsushi realized in heartrending clarity that, up until that exact moment, Adam had been visible the whole time.
No wonder Imai was staring at him in open shock. But then his face hardened considerably and he gazed at Atsushi throw angry, narrowed eyes.
“Where the fuck did he go?” Imai growled.
“Imai-” Atsushi began, once again attempting to sit up, but Adam had still yet to move, too busy staring at Imai with an unreadable look on his face.
“He has to be here somewhere!” Imai tossed the door open all the way and flipped the light switch on. Atsushi winced in the harsh light, but of course Adam was nowhere to be seen, to Imai’s eye at least. He was still sitting on Atsushi though, and the way Atsushi was pushed back against the back of the chair had to look decidedly odd without the other half of the picture. Atsushi moved his hand as subtly as he could to nudge the other man, the best sign he could do at the moment to tell him to “get off”.
But that motion stopped dead because Atsushi became preoccupied by watching Imai in absolute shock as the other man literally stomped into the room and began looking behind the clothes hanging on a portable rack nearby. He then started to look behind all the pieces of furniture in the room, as if they could actually hide a man of Adam’s size. “Imai, what are you doing?”
“He has to be here!”
Atsushi scrambled to sit up, pushing at Adam’s chest now that Imai’s attention was across the room. Finally the man moved, but not far. He sat on the table near Atsushi’s legs, his inscrutable eyes intent on Imai. But at least Atsushi could sit up properly now and did so, swinging his feet off the table and putting them, barefoot and all, on the floor.
Atsushi was just about the tell Imai that he wouldn’t be able to find Adam anywhere in the room…but he stopped. Saying something like that would mean admitting that Adam had been in the room, and how was he to explain that?
Or maybe…maybe this was an opportunity to get the truth out? It was a pretty shitty one though, because now he’d have to explain to a rather pissed of Imai that one of his shinigami protectors had the hots for him, too.
Atsushi sighed. Everything was a mess.
Imai turned around at the sound and Atsushi got a clear look at his face when he asked. “Who the fuck was that?”
Atsushi didn’t answer. His mind was reeling. He knew that look on Imai’s face. Thanks to his ex-wife, he knew that look quite well, and he was positive that Imai didn’t mean to show it.
It was jealousy. Plain wild jealousy.
Why was…when did…how…? The thoughts raced through Atsushi’s mind like a hurricane as he stared up at Imai’s fierce face. But then it clicked and everything inside him seemed to resonate with that conclusion, his chest constricting, his heart pounding, every muscle tense. This explained Imai’s odd behavior for the past few days…but…Atsushi didn’t want to believe it.
Imai must have seen something of what Atsushi was thinking on his face because he turned that deadly white again and in a flash he was gone.
“Wait!” Atsushi called out, trying to stand up but swaying as his legs protested from being up on the table so long. He sensed Adam reaching out to steady him but he brushed him aside. It was with an ungainly, hobbled stumbling that Atsushi managed to follow Imai out into the hall. He could hear the other voices down the hall closer to the stage. No one had gone to the after party yet. But of course Imai hadn’t gone that way; he would have been heading for the door. The lighting had been dimmed in the hall since it wasn’t in full use at the moment and it was hard to see, so Atsushi would just have to make a run for it and hope he caught Imai before he disappeared.
It hurt like a bitch to run, and he wasn’t very graceful or even coordinated in that moment, but somehow-he still wasn’t sure how-he managed to make it to the door just as Imai was shoving it open.
Atsushi reached out and grabbed Imai’s closest arm and pulled. Thankfully Atsushi had the size advantage here and Imai stumbled, nearly knocking them both over. But Imai rallied quickly and tried to yank his arm away, but Atsushi was relentless. He forced Imai to follow him deeper into the gloom of the hallway and pushed open the first door he came upon and dragged Imai inside.
It just happened to be the men’s room, he noticed, and shivered slightly as his barefoot touched the cold tiles. But hopefully it was somewhat clean…
Atsushi grabbed Imai’s other arm as soon as the door shut and wheeled him around to face him. “Imai-” he began, but not being quite sure how to go about this he hesitated…and Imai jumped into the gap.
Imai started yelling at him immediately. “Who was that blonde man? What the hell was he doing backstage in the dressing room? You know it’s not a good idea to let fans come back here!”
Atsushi stepped back under this unexpected attack, but he didn’t let go of Imai. He was sure that was one of the things the other man had wanted him to do.
“Imai, stop fighting me and let’s talk about this.”
Imai tried to wrench himself free of Atsushi’s hands, but that was one part of his body that wasn’t failing him that night. “Not until you tell me who he was!” Imai eyes met Atsushi’s in his ferociousness, but he quickly looked away once he realized it.
“I-” Can’t. He almost said it. It was right on the tip of his tongue…but he swallowed that word. “All right. But I don’t know if you’ll believe-” Atsushi stopped speaking. He heard voices outside the door. “Shit,” he hissed. He didn’t exactly want to be found standing with Imai in the bathroom looking ready to fight. He could just imagine the rumors (and partial truths) that would get around. Even Imai looked panicked in that instant.
“C’mon,” Atsushi whispered, pulling Imai down the row of stalls and then ducking into the last one. He pushed Imai against the solid concrete wall to keep him from moving. There wasn’t much space but there was enough that he didn’t need to stay right next to him…but he did anyway. They stood pressed together, Atsushi looking over his shoulder, as they listened to someone come in and start using the urinal.
Biting back a sigh of relief, Atsushi turned back around and, without thinking, rest his forehead against Imai’s shoulder. Imai tensed immediately though and then Atsushi remembered why they were there. Instantly he was aware of the quickening of Imai’s breathing and he was rather certain that the other man’s pulse was probably pounding.
Atsushi did something really stupid then. He wasn’t quite sure why.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Imai’s neck.
Imai drew in a sharp, barely audible breath. His hands flew up to Atsushi’s shoulders immediately, but he didn’t push him away. His fingers dug into the fabric of Atsushi’s shirt, hesitated, and then pulled him closer. His left arm slipped away in the next instant and found Atsushi’s waist and he pulled him closer there too, so that, if they could, they would have both melded together into the wall.
Atsushi continued his assault on Imai’s neck, moving over and up to the spot behind his ear. He wasn’t quite sure why he was doing this, but his mind wasn’t on contemplation at the moment. Imai just felt warm and solid pressed up against him like this and he smelled rather good too, underneath the sweat.
Feeling Imai’s arm creep over his back to encircle his shoulders, Atsushi changed the tone of things. He moved his lips from the skin behind Imai’s ear and bit his earlobe gently. With just that simple movement Imai’s arms tightened almost painfully and his hips jerked. It was quite obvious to Atsushi how excited Imai had become in such a short span of time. He shifted so that he could press his thigh against the hardness he’d already felt against his hip. Imai bit back a moan, fingers digging into Atsushi’s shoulders and most likely leaving a bruise behind.
They’d done this before, a long time ago; Atsushi remembered that, so it was almost like getting back on a bicycle after a long time away…but it wasn’t the same. Not exactly.
Before he hadn’t known that Imai actually felt something for him besides friendship. Even if it was only lust the other man felt now…it was still different. That was why, as Atsushi reached down to press his hand against Imai’s straining cock in his too-tight pants and felt himself growing excited in return, he leaned over and kissed him.
That had never happened before. Imai’s lips opened greedily under his, the other man’s tongue was already attacking Atsushi’s mouth before he even had a chance to get started, so he wasn’t sure who was exactly kissing whom, but at the moment it didn’t matter. Imai’s hold on him tightened, crushing his hand between them, but Imai didn’t seem to care about that. All of his focus seemed to be on the kiss and Atsushi readily followed along.
They had to part eventually, although Imai seemed very eager to keep Atsushi there, leaning forward as Atsushi drew back so that the contact lasted seconds longer. They were both panting wildly now, completely forgetting about the man who’d made them hide in the first place.
“Beautiful,” Imai breathed, going to kiss Atsushi again. But that word brought the memory of the dressing room to Atsushi’s mind and he froze.
What was he doing? Here he was, taking advantage of Imai because he felt lonely. That was the same reason he’d let Adam kiss him the second time before. He was lonely and wanted human contact…and now he using one of his best friends just to get it. Never mind what Imai might have been feeling…lust or something else…but Atsushi couldn’t manipulate that just so he’d feel better. It was wrong and selfish and that was exactly what he’d been doing when he started this whole thing.
Atsushi turned his face away and Imai’s lips landed on his chin instead. He then tried his best to disentangle himself from the other man, who had without Atsushi’s knowledge hooked his leg around Atsushi’s own. He felt terrible to be leaving Imai in the lurch like this…but he would feel downright horrid if it let it go on. Then he’d be treating Imai like some whore, and he couldn’t do that…
“What, what’s wrong?” Imai panted, trying to pull Atsushi back against him, but Atsushi was determined and managed to get free. Imai sagged against the wall, disheveled, and he stared at Atsushi with wide eyes. “Why are-”
Atsushi forced himself not to look away as he said the damning words. “I can’t do this.”
The change that came over Imai was swift and immense. His face turned hard and his eyes even harder. Mouth pressed firmly closed, he shoved past Atsushi, radiating a cold, terrifying anger, and slammed the stall door open.
“Wai-” Atsushi began, but stopped as the door swung back and almost smacked right into his face. From the silence on the other side it was clear that they were alone now, but Atsushi would have still followed Imai out into the other room anyway.
Imai was at the sink-washing his hands-and Atsushi approached him hesitantly. “Imai…I’m sorry…”
Imai continued to rub at his hands under the running water, then reached up and started to rub at his face and neck. He made certain to scrub over his lips multiple times with the back of his hand, like a child. He didn’t look at Atsushi once, eyes straight ahead, but he had to know that his actions hurt. And it did.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Atsushi tried again. “Im-Hisashi, let me explain-” He was going to, too. He was willing to tell him the shame he’d felt…and why. He was willing to tell Imai the whole story, from the very beginning when they’d stumbled into that dark hotel room just days before.
But Imai didn’t let him. “Thank you for stopping me from making a fool of myself,” he said, his voice cold.
“No, Hisashi, you weren’t. I was.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Atsushi winced. That hadn’t come out right. Not right at all. Imai turned then, his eyes dark but raging. Atsushi took an involuntary step back.
“Oh, is that what this was? Time to play with Imai? Be the cock tease? Well, you know what…You know what!” Imai quivered with anger, but it seemed he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. But he did, eventually. “Fuck you, Atsushi. Just…fuck you!”
Atsushi didn’t even try to defend himself against that. He just stood meekly by the sink and watch Imai burst out of the room and into the hall. The door swung shut with a slam that shook Atsushi right down to his bones.
And he just stood there.
After a long, silent while Atsushi was compelled to move. He left the bathroom, walked down the hall, and stepped into the dressing room he’d been in before. It was empty now. Yanking off his one boot, he began to methodically strip out of his stage clothes, throwing them on the nearby chair as he then put on the street clothes he’d arrived in. Then he went over and grabbed his jacket from the rack and put it on. He saw that his bag had been brought in here too, so he grabbed that as well before leaving the room, walking down the hall in the dark. Then he left.
He walked a long way down the streets of Tokyo, moving amongst the crowd as if no one was even there. He didn’t have a particular destination in mind, but once he saw the love hotel he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at it. The people flowed around him, a few giving him dirty looks for blocking their way. He ignored them as he contemplated the idea his mind had grasped onto…and then he went inside.
Atsushi had many connections. Some of them he wasn’t very proud of. But he still used them anyway and it wasn’t long until he had a companion for the night. It was a higher class prostitute; the kind you knew wouldn’t say anything because they had their own reputation to protect. But they were somewhat high maintenance, in their own way. She even gave the place a haughty once-over after she arrived, and Atsushi didn’t blame her. The room was a themed one, made up like the inside of a plane. It was…really pathetic, but it was the only open room that actually had a bed, even if it had head- and footboards that reminded him of first-class seats.
Atsushi didn’t bother with small talk. He wasn’t in the mood for it, and she could have cared less. She knew she was being used, so it didn’t matter at all how things actually went, but out of habit Atsushi spent a long time attending to her needs first. He wasn’t sure how much she appreciated that in reality, since she was a prostitute after all and had long since learned to act, but she certainly made the right movements and sounds, so what the fuck did it matter anyway? She was a human being-present and warm and alive-and if she wanted to be there in reality or not wasn’t the issue-she was going to get paid no matter what in the end. So he could get the need for human contact out of his system without guilt or remorse. In theory, anyway.
She was one of the prostitutes who didn’t allowing kissing-and he was glad. He’d had enough of that tonight.
But, when everything was over and he lay curled up under the rather thin blankets of the bed, he didn’t feel any better. He actually felt colder inside than he had before…and lonelier.
She got up a few minutes later to shower and Atsushi stirred himself enough to dig out his wallet, count out the agreed upon wage, added a generous tip, and then tossed it all on the sterile-looking stewardess cart that stood in place of the table. Then he yanked on his clothes because it was damn cold in the room, and then crawled back into bed. He lay there, staring at the badly painted wall until she came back out. He heard her heels thump against the thin carpet on the floor. She stopped at the table, paused, and then he heard the snap of her bag opening and then closing.
But she didn’t leave after that. “Are you…okay?” she asked in a soft, questioning voice.
Atsushi blinked, startled. Without thinking about it, he sat up and looked at her. Her pretty face was marred with a faint frown. “Excuse me?”
She bit her lip, where she’d already applied her makeup. “I’m sorry, it’s just that…well, the last time it wasn’t in a place like this and…”
Last time? Atsushi peered at her closely in the murky light and realized that he had seen her before...slept with her before. Her hair had been shorter then.
He did like to admit it, but he had called on prostitutes before…and she was right. Never in a shitty place like this. There were hotels much better than this hole-in-the-wall, either made for this expressed purpose or actual places of legitimate business.
She must have noticed he recognized her. “I know your pseudonym, okyaku-san,” She was very careful not to say said pseudonym or his real name. “So I…asked to get the job again.” That could have been a compliment, but Atsushi wasn’t in the mood to take it as such. She smiled faintly, her long artfully painted nails digging into her cute little handbag. “But…I was really surprised at the address…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Atsushi muttered. Hell, she was making him feel even lower now, if that was possible.
“Aren’t you…going to leave?” she asked softly.
“No.” And he wasn’t. Might as well sleep here as anywhere else. He’d bought the time because he still didn’t want to go home…
“There have to be better places…”
Atsushi forced himself to be stern. “I appreciate the concern, but you needn’t worry. Good night.”
Clearly hearing the dismissal, she gave him one last worried look before leaving. Atsushi sat on the bed and heard the door click behind her, but he didn’t look. He just sat there for a long time, steadily growing colder in the poorly heated room, before he dragged himself up out of bed to lock the door.
Then he fell back in the uncomfortable bed, pulled the scratchy, well-worn sheets over his head, and told himself to fall asleep.
It didn’t work.
*
Imai was still trembling. Even now, sitting in the cab on the way home.
After the Incident, Imai had gone into the dressing room and changed as quickly as possible before Atsushi could come and try to “talk” to him again, and then he’d gone into the other room to tell them he wasn’t going to be staying. It took longer to get out of there than he’d expected, because everyone else was in a good mood and tried to get him to stay and join them, but he couldn’t. He had to get out of there before Atsushi showed up.
But he should have known better. Right before he got out the door, one of the roadies popped in and said that Atsushi was gone.
The others had been confused, but Imai lied and said that Atsushi had told him he was leaving, so then he’d been given the “why didn’t he tell us” and “why didn’t you say that earlier” inquisition from Toll. Imai had shrugged him off as best he could, however, and then left.
Imai hadn’t known what to feel then…he still didn’t know what to feel now. Part of him was hot with anger… trembling in fear that Atsushi knew…yearning for Atsushi to be back again and to finish what he’d started…while still another part of him, a small but much more rational part, was worried at Atsushi’s abrupt disappearance.
As soon as the cab pulled up in front of his apartment Imai got out. He paid the man and then went inside, not saying hello to the doorman, not looking at the man behind the desk. He just went to the elevator and let it carry him upstairs.
When he got to his door Imai fumbled his keys and he was just about to swear and throw them all down the hall when the right key ended up in his hand and he got the door open. He tossed the door open, stomped inside, and then slammed the door shut.
BJ was there, watching him. Imai was just about to yell at him, but he stopped himself. It wasn’t the dog’s fault.
Besides, BJ looked rather agitated already, whining softly and looking over his shoulder.
“What is it?” he asked, toeing off his shoes. Leaving them in a pile, he began to walk to the living room and BJ whined again, louder this time. “What?” he asked, turning around to face him.
“We need to talk.”
Imai’s heart leapt up into his throat as he whirled around at the sound of that voice. Standing there, in the entrance to his living room…was that blond man.
All of Imai’s earlier jealousy came crashing back over him like a tidal wave, washing out all his other emotions. “Who the hell are you!” he screamed, racing forward and shoving the man hard. He didn’t even care that the stranger was in his apartment at first, but that fact caught up with him quickly when the bigger, stronger man grabbed his fists and held him immobile in his own home. BJ quickly ran over and began to bark at the man, running around his legs, but he ignored the dog.
“I mean it, Imai-san, we need to talk,” that blond bastard said with surprising calmness. But his eyes were electric as he stared Imai down. “It’s about Sakurai-san.”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” Imai snarled, fighting against the man’s grip.
“I’ve heard that a lot recently,” the man remarked mildly. “But, no, I won’t. We have to talk,” he said the last sternly as he shoved Imai backwards and let his hands go. Imai stumbled slightly and BJ raced around between them, barking like mad.
“Why the fuck would I talk to you?” Imai retorted, his voice quivering with anger.
“Because you want to know what’s going on,” the man said, his voice and expression calm but knowing. He pointed to BJ. “Could you get him to stop, please? I’m sure he’s annoying your neighbors.”
Imai stared at this man, dumbfounded. Who was this asshole?
Whoever he was, he simply walked over to Imai’s couch-the same one Atsushi had slept on just that morning-and sat down. “You might want to sit for this,” he said.
Trapped in the sheer insanity of the moment, Imai did just that, sinking down in the nearby chair. Seeing his master sit down calmly, BJ stopped barking, but sat down like a silent guard at Imai’s side.
“Are you listening now?” the man asked.
Imai hesitated. “Yes.”
And so Imai was told everything.
Actually, my internet just went out when I went to post this...so let's see how long it'll take until I can get it up....
BACK!
*
Atsushi wasn’t the first to show up at the venue…and he wasn’t the last either. Considering he arrived solo, that was quite a record for him. It was most likely because Ariwara had been staring at his watch the past fifteen minutes and not-so-subtly prodding him to get in a taxi.
Climbing out of said taxi into the damp gray afternoon, with Ariwara right behind; Atsushi couldn’t help but feel a bit sick of the other man. He wasn’t a terrible person by any means, but to have spent the whole day with him had been a bit…much. He was far too high-strung for Atsushi. Or perhaps he’d tried too hard to be “friend” instead of “employee” and…it hadn’t worked out so well.
Yet Atsushi didn’t regret getting out of Imai’s apartment. There was only so much time he could spend there without feeling he was wasting Imai’s time… Or perhaps it had just been the weird tension that Imai had been radiating that made Atsushi feel a tad…unwelcomed. And… ah, hell, what did it matter? He was analyzing things to death like some neurotic girl.
“Stop worrying,” Atsushi muttered aloud as he trudged through the blowing drizzle-filled wind the short distance to the backstage door. One of the stagehands had already opened the door.
“What was that?” Ariwara asked, his voice muffled by the turned-up collar of his coat.
“Nothing,” Atsushi replied dully, climbing the damp metal steps to where he was bowed inside the welcoming backstage warmth.
Hide was the only band member there so far. He sat in the back room, talking to some of the staff. He looked up when Atsushi entered the room.
“Hey,” he called.
“Hey,” Atsushi replied, throwing his bag on the nearby couch and stripping out of his jacket, which he handed over to one of the roadies standing at his side, waiting. She hung it up immediately. Atsushi wandered over to stand next to Hide’s stool, shoving his hands under his arms to warm them up again. “Shitty weather.”
Hide shrugged. “It’s the rainy season. Shitty weather happens.”
“And always when I’m out in it.”
Hide laughed. The staff members he’d been talking to grinned. One asked, “Do anything interesting today then?”
Atsushi shrugged. “Not really. Wandered around. Ate lunch. Wandered some more.”
Standing there, in the warmth and light of the small backstage room, Atsushi realized just how nice of a day it had been, despite his rather lame retelling of it. He’d woken up feeling rested and much more relaxed than he had in the past few days. Not even the weird moments with Imai could dispel that. Then he’d spent the day doing absolutely nothing…nothing even included no thinking. He hadn’t worried about his little…problem for the past few hours. It was…rather liberating.
Atsushi rather hoped that things could stay this way, but some darker part of his mind told him that wasn’t going to happen. This was just a lull in the issue, that was all. Despite that dark prediction, he was determined to enjoy the present as much as he could. It was either that or go mad with worry so…he’d just shut it out for the moment.
It was that conviction that resulted in him being in a rather good mood by the time everyone else showed up. Even Imai’s arrival didn’t bother him too much, despite the fact that Imai didn’t seem to be very happy. In fact he was downright sulky, sitting in the corner and tuning his guitar quietly by himself. Everyone left him alone.
It wasn’t long before it was time for sound check, and then dinner. Well, not exactly “dinner” so much as a time to pick at the food trays set backstage. No one in the band liked to eat too much before going on stage, but the staff certainly had no qualms against it.
After a while it was time to, as U-ta put it, “suit up”. That was when the normal chaos that just bordered on the edge between organized and insanity began. It still amazed Atsushi sometimes how nit-picky a stylist could be, especially since most of his makeup melted off under the lights and that perfectly adjusted hem lasted all of two seconds once he moved his leg. But if they wanted to spend minutes making his hair lay perfect around his shoulders, let them if it made them feel better. He knew he’d look nothing like they wanted by the end of the night.
Atsushi was sitting down, having the last of his mascara applied when Imai plopped down on the stool next to him. Atsushi couldn’t look over at him, but somehow he knew the other man was watching. “What is it, Imai?” he asked while keeping his eyes perfectly still.
“Nothin’,” the other man mumbled in response, the leather of his outfit creaking as he shifted. “Just sitting.”
Atsushi wasn’t going to argue with him. When he was finally given the go-ahead, he blinked his eyes rapidly a few times before stretching his arms up over his head. He heard the bones in his spine creak and pop as the pressure was released. “Ugh, I need to exercise more,” he grumbled.
He looked over at Imai then and saw that the other man sat leaning his head on the arm he’d propped on the faux-marble countertop. They stared at each other for a long moment, Imai not seeming to realize that Atsushi had turned to face him. But then the other man blinked and the world came back into focus-or at least he realized that Atsushi had moved. “Ah…” he said. And that was all.
“Are you tired or something?” Atsushi asked him.
“Nah.”
Atsushi mentally shrugged. Let Imai watch him. It didn’t matter. Reaching over to the countertop Atsushi picked up his bracelets and started sliding them on. The quiet click they made against one another was lost in the bustle of the room, but Atsushi could often hear them on stage in-between sets, so he knew what they sounded like.
As Atsushi slipped the last one on, Imai suddenly spoke, more to himself than Atsushi but he was too close for Atsushi not to hear. “At least there are no windows here…”
Atsushi turned, about to ask why Imai was talking about windows again, but one of the stylists stepped between them to help Imai with the infamous “B-T”. Atsushi might have waited for them to be finished, but it was time for him to put on his boots.
It was about twenty minutes later as he stood waiting to go on-stage that Atsushi realized the night was going to be a disaster. Because his bruised foot was already starting to throb terribly. It had been sore all day as he walked on it, but over time that pain had faded away to nearly nothing…but now, shoved into his tight, unrelenting leather boots…it hurt like a bitch.
Atsushi tried to flex his toes the best he could, but the material didn’t have enough give and his foot just hurt even more. It was too late to get another pair of shoes, everyone else was already walking onstage, so he was just going to have to suck it up and bear it.
So, on his cue, he marched out there and told himself firmly to ignore it.
He did remarkably well, he thought, falling into the familiar rhythm of the set list, the well-known daze of the lights, the well-trampled space between Hide and Imai. Everything else was pushed down, locked out, and another usually hiding part of himself was allowed free.
However, he might have been ignoring his aching foot, but it certainly wasn’t going away. As he strolled around behind Imai during the last song of the main set, he brought his foot down and promptly stumbled as a stab of white-hot pain raced up his leg. He probably would have fallen if Imai hadn’t been there. As it was he ended up grabbing and clinging to Imai in a remarkably non-sexy way. Imai lurched in Atsushi’s direction at first but he managed to keep them both upright…while continuing to play.
It was an instrumental, so Atsushi had time to catch his breath back, having been rather startled by the near catastrophe. He laid his head against Imai’s back, feeling the muscles clench and relax under the slick leather of his vest as he played. Trying to make the whole moment appear more planned than it really was, Atsushi moved to wrap his arm around Imai’s waist, but, to his surprise, the man actually flinched. Flinched.
That stopped Atsushi cold. He withdrew his arm as subtly as he could and, although it felt like the bones in his foot were on fire now, he forced himself to stand up straight and go out center stage again. He tried not to limp and was rather sure he’d succeeded.
He was extremely relieved when he could bolt off stage and, as soon as he was out of sight, he hobbled over to the nearest place to sit down. Ariwara, Haneda-the man in charge of all medical crises-and two other staff members were on him immediately. Ariwara was wielding a flash light because it was still dark this close to the stage.
“What happened?” Ariwara asked while the man next to him handed over a glass of water and the third began to fan Atsushi’s face with a plastic fan.
Atsushi’s lips twisted in a grimace. It seemed the staff had noticed. “I stepped down wrong.”
“Did you twist your ankle?” Haneda, an older man with glasses, asked softly, kneeling down to take Atsushi’s foot in his two hands. Atsushi was quickly reminded of Imai from the day before with the gesture…
“No. It’s just-”
At that point Hide appeared, sweat-soaked and eager for a towel. Then came U-ta, bouncy as usual. Then no one. Atsushi, ignoring Ariwara’s attempt to get him to continue, watched the stage entrance, and after a rather long wait Anii appeared literally pulling Imai in tow. Imai’s face was extremely pale under the running stage makeup and Atsushi felt his heart clench. Pressing his lips together firmly, he looked away. He couldn’t quite name what he was feeling, but none of it was very happy. Apparently he should have known better… But…Imai had never reacted like that before… He’d never flinched. He’d been known to nudge Atsushi away gently when he needed more space, and that was fine. But to act like Atsushi was some nasty thing he needed to shy away from…
Atsushi was hastily snapped from his thoughts as blinding pain ran up his leg and he hissed out loud. Looking down through teary eyes he saw Haneda there pressing down on the leather around his foot. “What are you doing?” Atsushi asked in a sharp, pain-filled whisper.
“You didn’t break it or anything, did you?” Ariwara asked while Haneda looked up to hear the answer. Atsushi remembered then that neither man had been there for the foot-bruising accident.
“No! And stop pushing on it!” Atsushi finished in a hiss, clenching his teeth hard as Haneda prodded again.
“We should wrap it up before you go back out there…” Ariwara suggested.
“No, then we might not be able to get his foot back into the boot,” Haneda said, finally putting Atsushi’s foot down. “We can’t wrap it too tight because then you’d cut off the circulation and once it’s free of the leather I’m sure it’ll start to swell…”
Atsushi closed his eyes as they continued to argue in urgent whispers. He could hear the shouts of the crowd, screaming for more. And he was going to give it to them, no matter what. He just…wanted to sit for a moment, that was all…
A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and squeezed. Atsushi looked up and Anii was there, a worried look on his face. “It’s the foot, isn’t it?” he asked. Atsushi could only nod.
Anii didn’t say anything else, but his face was troubled. He kept his hand on Atsushi’s shoulder though and that made him feel a little bit better…
“We have to get out there soon…” Hide murmured after a while. U-ta nodded from where he sat watching the unfolding foot-crisis with a frown. And Imai…Atsushi couldn’t even see the other man in the darkness behind stage, but he had to be there somewhere.
“You’re right,” Atsushi said, and he physically pushed away Haneda with his other foot. It wasn’t a hard shove by any means. The other man moved only because he was surprised. Taking the opportunity, Atsushi heaved himself to his feet. His foot protested, but it wasn’t as bad as before…either that or he was getting used to it again.
Atsushi met U-ta’s eyes across the distance and nodded. U-ta nodded in return and, quirking a smile, he disappeared back on-stage to a roaring applause. Anii, having released Atsushi’s shoulder when he stood, patted his arm once before following his brother.
Then it was Hide’s turn…and soon Imai was forced to appear out of the darkness. He started to walk right past Atsushi but soon slowed to a halt and turned to look at him, his dark eyes gleaming in the light of Ariwara’s flash light. He looked about to say something, but stopped as soon as his mouth opened. After hesitating a moment more, Imai spun around and escaped on-stage.
Atsushi watched him go with the same expression he’d been wearing since Imai had appeared out of the dark-cold blankness. He couldn’t think about things like that. It was going to take all of his determination to get out there and finish this.
That was exactly what he did. He shoved his stage face back into place and strolled out in front of everyone without any hint of a limp. He stayed away from Imai’s side of the stage however, wandering around the crowd on Hide’s side. He didn’t dare go too close to the edge though. Falling off would be ten times worse physically than just collapsing on stage. Although there could be another excuse if he fell off the edge… He hadn’t seen it, he wasn’t paying attention… But he just didn’t want to think of that.
At long last, as his band mates were drawing out the last few stanza of the last song, Atsushi left the stage. He walked right past the anxious Chiba who stood waiting for him. He’d apparently been called from the place he hung out during the show with news of Atsushi’s injury. Atsushi didn’t stop walking until he came upon the smaller of the dressing rooms where he gratefully sank down on the plush chairs against the wall and tossed his leg up on the table in front of him.
It didn’t take long for Haneda to show up, Chiba and Ariwara in tow. The man began to undo the zipper on Atsushi’s boot. “Get me some ice, would you?” he asked Ariwara.
Atsushi, lips pressed tight in pain, titled his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes. It was hard to relax though with all his muscles stiff and waiting for any pain that came from them jostling his foot.
Haneda was good at his job though, despite his early propensity for slight torture, and he had Atsushi’s boot off and a small bag of ice laying across the evil looking bruise that Atsushi knew was on his foot.
“I was right, it’s starting to swell,” the older man said softly. He touched Atsushi’s knee with gentle fingers and Atsushi opened his eyes in surprise, looking down at him. The man smiled in reassurance. “Just stay here for a bit with the ice on it and that should go down.”
Atsushi nodded, before closing his eyes again. The ice was like needles against his skin, but he was sure that would fade in time as it began to melt. Now that no one was prodding at him, he was able to relax a bit more, the tension loosening in his over-tired legs.
He wasn’t sure when it happened, but soon Atsushi found himself in the room alone and the door had been closed partially so that only a thin stream of light crept into the room. It seemed they had figured out what he needed most of all-time to sit alone.
Atsushi shifted in his chair cautiously, not wanting to dislodge the ice on his foot, but needing to stretch his thighs that were beginning to fall asleep where they were pressed against the cushion. The icepack wasn’t so cold anymore, but at least the pain had diminished slightly.
Atsushi’s whole body tensed as the ice was removed from his foot and apparently turned over, because the other side was a bit colder, but not by much. A voice spoke before Atsushi had a chance to react. “I thought you were sleeping there at first.”
Atsushi recognized Adam’s voice immediately. Eyes fully open now, he struggled to sit up. Adam was perched on the edge of the table, back to Atsushi as he fiddled with the icepack. “I told you to leave me alone,” Atsushi reminded him in the darkest voice he could muster.
“I was watching your show-the first one I’ve ever seen, actually. That was one part of the research we didn’t really get to yet,” the other man continued, seeming to ignore Atsushi completely. He pushed down gently on the icepack, as if trying to urge more of the cold into Atsushi’s foot, but all it accomplished was making Atsushi wince. Adam relented immediately.
“If you don’t get out of here I-” What had started out as a surprising fierce statement dwindled to nothing as Atsushi realized there wasn’t much he could do. What, call security on an invisible man? Atsushi was sorely tempted to kick Adam with his good foot though.
“You know,” Adam continued, his fingers moving the melted water around in the bag. It was like a second-hand massage. He still wasn’t looking in Atsushi’s direction. “I was thinking of what you’d said. At the onsen. About how it’s something you have to do. Making this music, that is.” Adam turned around then and the look on his face startled Atsushi breathless.
Atsushi could only stare as Adam spun around to kneel on the table, straddling Atsushi’s legs. He leaned forward, eyes bright. “I see exactly where your passion lies,” he murmured, but Atsushi barely heard him over his now wildly beating heart.
Atsushi tried to back away from the man in front of him, but he couldn’t get far with the chair back behind him. “What are you-” he began but he was cut off when Adam lunged forward and kissed him. Hard.
Atsushi’s whole body jerked in surprise and he was vaguely aware of the package of melted ice sliding off his foot. He was a bit too busy to worry about that though. Because he’d caught him speaking, Adam’s tongue had open access to Atsushi’s mouth, and Atsushi was fighting to get it out again. He reached up one hand to push at the other man’s shoulder, and he would have used his other except Adam quickly pinned it down. Adam was surprising warm under Atsushi’s fingers though, as though he was radiating heat…but he couldn’t be, since he was dead. Right?
That moment of confusion was enough for Adam to press his advantage. Sliding up Atsushi’s body, he pushed him tight against the back of the chair and, tilting Atsushi’s chin up with his free hand, continued to plunder his mouth.
Atsushi tried to squirm as best he could with a remarkably heavy man nearly sitting on top of him, but then Adam’s hand left his chin and began to stroke his cheek, smooth through his hair and that…actually felt quite nice… Atsushi might have been able to relax into such attention accept for a more pressing issue…he couldn’t breathe.
Apparently being dead meant that Adam forgot the need for air. Atsushi reached up and yanked as hard as he could on the back of Adam’s collar. It was hard to do from the awkward angle of being underneath him, but it was enough to give the hint. It must have clicked in the other man’s mind because he actually relented this time, leaning back quickly so that Atsushi could gasp.
“I forgot,” Adam admitted a tad sheepishly, leaning his arms against Atsushi’s shoulders and toying with his hair. This move kept him effectively locked in place. Adam’s face was only inches away as Atsushi lay there panting and trying to stop the dizzy spinning in his head from lack of oxygen. “You really are very beautiful, you know that?” Adam asked softly once Atsushi was breathing close to normally again. One of his hands slipped down to rest against the pulse in Atsushi’s neck, which he could probably feel pounding away.
“Get off of me,” Atsushi growled. He couldn’t do more than that because he knew his voice would quaver. Despite the fact that Adam was dead he was radiating heat like a living man and Atsushi found that very disconcerting. It was rather difficult to believe he was actually dead-he was there, he was warm, he had a human shape that Atsushi could easily feel-it was only the firm chanting of the word “dead dead dead” in Atsushi’s mind that kept that part in focus.
Adam’s face was sad as he toyed with Atsushi’s hair some more. “I think I understand…But I just wanted you to know anyway… And it’s more than this that I find beautiful,” he added, tugging a bit on Atsushi’s hair. “You should see your eyes when you’re onstage,” he murmured against Atsushi’s lips before kissing him again.
And Atsushi let him…and that surprised him. He didn’t like it…but he just couldn’t bring himself to fight it. It was the first attention of this kind he’d gotten in weeks it seemed and he was…tired.
Adam didn’t hold the kiss as long this time, nor was he able to go in too deep since Atsushi kept his lips closed and Adam was at least conscientious enough that time not to try to get them open.
It was when he was drawing back, however, that the door opened, sending bright light flooding into the room to cascade over the two of them. Atsushi turned his head in that instant, squinting in the sudden light and trying to sit up, but Adam was still in the way. But his weight changed. It was a quick shift but Atsushi noticed it keenly. He went from being solid and warm to a sort of…after-image, and Atsushi realized in heartrending clarity that, up until that exact moment, Adam had been visible the whole time.
No wonder Imai was staring at him in open shock. But then his face hardened considerably and he gazed at Atsushi throw angry, narrowed eyes.
“Where the fuck did he go?” Imai growled.
“Imai-” Atsushi began, once again attempting to sit up, but Adam had still yet to move, too busy staring at Imai with an unreadable look on his face.
“He has to be here somewhere!” Imai tossed the door open all the way and flipped the light switch on. Atsushi winced in the harsh light, but of course Adam was nowhere to be seen, to Imai’s eye at least. He was still sitting on Atsushi though, and the way Atsushi was pushed back against the back of the chair had to look decidedly odd without the other half of the picture. Atsushi moved his hand as subtly as he could to nudge the other man, the best sign he could do at the moment to tell him to “get off”.
But that motion stopped dead because Atsushi became preoccupied by watching Imai in absolute shock as the other man literally stomped into the room and began looking behind the clothes hanging on a portable rack nearby. He then started to look behind all the pieces of furniture in the room, as if they could actually hide a man of Adam’s size. “Imai, what are you doing?”
“He has to be here!”
Atsushi scrambled to sit up, pushing at Adam’s chest now that Imai’s attention was across the room. Finally the man moved, but not far. He sat on the table near Atsushi’s legs, his inscrutable eyes intent on Imai. But at least Atsushi could sit up properly now and did so, swinging his feet off the table and putting them, barefoot and all, on the floor.
Atsushi was just about the tell Imai that he wouldn’t be able to find Adam anywhere in the room…but he stopped. Saying something like that would mean admitting that Adam had been in the room, and how was he to explain that?
Or maybe…maybe this was an opportunity to get the truth out? It was a pretty shitty one though, because now he’d have to explain to a rather pissed of Imai that one of his shinigami protectors had the hots for him, too.
Atsushi sighed. Everything was a mess.
Imai turned around at the sound and Atsushi got a clear look at his face when he asked. “Who the fuck was that?”
Atsushi didn’t answer. His mind was reeling. He knew that look on Imai’s face. Thanks to his ex-wife, he knew that look quite well, and he was positive that Imai didn’t mean to show it.
It was jealousy. Plain wild jealousy.
Why was…when did…how…? The thoughts raced through Atsushi’s mind like a hurricane as he stared up at Imai’s fierce face. But then it clicked and everything inside him seemed to resonate with that conclusion, his chest constricting, his heart pounding, every muscle tense. This explained Imai’s odd behavior for the past few days…but…Atsushi didn’t want to believe it.
Imai must have seen something of what Atsushi was thinking on his face because he turned that deadly white again and in a flash he was gone.
“Wait!” Atsushi called out, trying to stand up but swaying as his legs protested from being up on the table so long. He sensed Adam reaching out to steady him but he brushed him aside. It was with an ungainly, hobbled stumbling that Atsushi managed to follow Imai out into the hall. He could hear the other voices down the hall closer to the stage. No one had gone to the after party yet. But of course Imai hadn’t gone that way; he would have been heading for the door. The lighting had been dimmed in the hall since it wasn’t in full use at the moment and it was hard to see, so Atsushi would just have to make a run for it and hope he caught Imai before he disappeared.
It hurt like a bitch to run, and he wasn’t very graceful or even coordinated in that moment, but somehow-he still wasn’t sure how-he managed to make it to the door just as Imai was shoving it open.
Atsushi reached out and grabbed Imai’s closest arm and pulled. Thankfully Atsushi had the size advantage here and Imai stumbled, nearly knocking them both over. But Imai rallied quickly and tried to yank his arm away, but Atsushi was relentless. He forced Imai to follow him deeper into the gloom of the hallway and pushed open the first door he came upon and dragged Imai inside.
It just happened to be the men’s room, he noticed, and shivered slightly as his barefoot touched the cold tiles. But hopefully it was somewhat clean…
Atsushi grabbed Imai’s other arm as soon as the door shut and wheeled him around to face him. “Imai-” he began, but not being quite sure how to go about this he hesitated…and Imai jumped into the gap.
Imai started yelling at him immediately. “Who was that blonde man? What the hell was he doing backstage in the dressing room? You know it’s not a good idea to let fans come back here!”
Atsushi stepped back under this unexpected attack, but he didn’t let go of Imai. He was sure that was one of the things the other man had wanted him to do.
“Imai, stop fighting me and let’s talk about this.”
Imai tried to wrench himself free of Atsushi’s hands, but that was one part of his body that wasn’t failing him that night. “Not until you tell me who he was!” Imai eyes met Atsushi’s in his ferociousness, but he quickly looked away once he realized it.
“I-” Can’t. He almost said it. It was right on the tip of his tongue…but he swallowed that word. “All right. But I don’t know if you’ll believe-” Atsushi stopped speaking. He heard voices outside the door. “Shit,” he hissed. He didn’t exactly want to be found standing with Imai in the bathroom looking ready to fight. He could just imagine the rumors (and partial truths) that would get around. Even Imai looked panicked in that instant.
“C’mon,” Atsushi whispered, pulling Imai down the row of stalls and then ducking into the last one. He pushed Imai against the solid concrete wall to keep him from moving. There wasn’t much space but there was enough that he didn’t need to stay right next to him…but he did anyway. They stood pressed together, Atsushi looking over his shoulder, as they listened to someone come in and start using the urinal.
Biting back a sigh of relief, Atsushi turned back around and, without thinking, rest his forehead against Imai’s shoulder. Imai tensed immediately though and then Atsushi remembered why they were there. Instantly he was aware of the quickening of Imai’s breathing and he was rather certain that the other man’s pulse was probably pounding.
Atsushi did something really stupid then. He wasn’t quite sure why.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against Imai’s neck.
Imai drew in a sharp, barely audible breath. His hands flew up to Atsushi’s shoulders immediately, but he didn’t push him away. His fingers dug into the fabric of Atsushi’s shirt, hesitated, and then pulled him closer. His left arm slipped away in the next instant and found Atsushi’s waist and he pulled him closer there too, so that, if they could, they would have both melded together into the wall.
Atsushi continued his assault on Imai’s neck, moving over and up to the spot behind his ear. He wasn’t quite sure why he was doing this, but his mind wasn’t on contemplation at the moment. Imai just felt warm and solid pressed up against him like this and he smelled rather good too, underneath the sweat.
Feeling Imai’s arm creep over his back to encircle his shoulders, Atsushi changed the tone of things. He moved his lips from the skin behind Imai’s ear and bit his earlobe gently. With just that simple movement Imai’s arms tightened almost painfully and his hips jerked. It was quite obvious to Atsushi how excited Imai had become in such a short span of time. He shifted so that he could press his thigh against the hardness he’d already felt against his hip. Imai bit back a moan, fingers digging into Atsushi’s shoulders and most likely leaving a bruise behind.
They’d done this before, a long time ago; Atsushi remembered that, so it was almost like getting back on a bicycle after a long time away…but it wasn’t the same. Not exactly.
Before he hadn’t known that Imai actually felt something for him besides friendship. Even if it was only lust the other man felt now…it was still different. That was why, as Atsushi reached down to press his hand against Imai’s straining cock in his too-tight pants and felt himself growing excited in return, he leaned over and kissed him.
That had never happened before. Imai’s lips opened greedily under his, the other man’s tongue was already attacking Atsushi’s mouth before he even had a chance to get started, so he wasn’t sure who was exactly kissing whom, but at the moment it didn’t matter. Imai’s hold on him tightened, crushing his hand between them, but Imai didn’t seem to care about that. All of his focus seemed to be on the kiss and Atsushi readily followed along.
They had to part eventually, although Imai seemed very eager to keep Atsushi there, leaning forward as Atsushi drew back so that the contact lasted seconds longer. They were both panting wildly now, completely forgetting about the man who’d made them hide in the first place.
“Beautiful,” Imai breathed, going to kiss Atsushi again. But that word brought the memory of the dressing room to Atsushi’s mind and he froze.
What was he doing? Here he was, taking advantage of Imai because he felt lonely. That was the same reason he’d let Adam kiss him the second time before. He was lonely and wanted human contact…and now he using one of his best friends just to get it. Never mind what Imai might have been feeling…lust or something else…but Atsushi couldn’t manipulate that just so he’d feel better. It was wrong and selfish and that was exactly what he’d been doing when he started this whole thing.
Atsushi turned his face away and Imai’s lips landed on his chin instead. He then tried his best to disentangle himself from the other man, who had without Atsushi’s knowledge hooked his leg around Atsushi’s own. He felt terrible to be leaving Imai in the lurch like this…but he would feel downright horrid if it let it go on. Then he’d be treating Imai like some whore, and he couldn’t do that…
“What, what’s wrong?” Imai panted, trying to pull Atsushi back against him, but Atsushi was determined and managed to get free. Imai sagged against the wall, disheveled, and he stared at Atsushi with wide eyes. “Why are-”
Atsushi forced himself not to look away as he said the damning words. “I can’t do this.”
The change that came over Imai was swift and immense. His face turned hard and his eyes even harder. Mouth pressed firmly closed, he shoved past Atsushi, radiating a cold, terrifying anger, and slammed the stall door open.
“Wai-” Atsushi began, but stopped as the door swung back and almost smacked right into his face. From the silence on the other side it was clear that they were alone now, but Atsushi would have still followed Imai out into the other room anyway.
Imai was at the sink-washing his hands-and Atsushi approached him hesitantly. “Imai…I’m sorry…”
Imai continued to rub at his hands under the running water, then reached up and started to rub at his face and neck. He made certain to scrub over his lips multiple times with the back of his hand, like a child. He didn’t look at Atsushi once, eyes straight ahead, but he had to know that his actions hurt. And it did.
Swallowing the lump that had formed in his throat, Atsushi tried again. “Im-Hisashi, let me explain-” He was going to, too. He was willing to tell him the shame he’d felt…and why. He was willing to tell Imai the whole story, from the very beginning when they’d stumbled into that dark hotel room just days before.
But Imai didn’t let him. “Thank you for stopping me from making a fool of myself,” he said, his voice cold.
“No, Hisashi, you weren’t. I was.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Atsushi winced. That hadn’t come out right. Not right at all. Imai turned then, his eyes dark but raging. Atsushi took an involuntary step back.
“Oh, is that what this was? Time to play with Imai? Be the cock tease? Well, you know what…You know what!” Imai quivered with anger, but it seemed he just couldn’t bring himself to say it. But he did, eventually. “Fuck you, Atsushi. Just…fuck you!”
Atsushi didn’t even try to defend himself against that. He just stood meekly by the sink and watch Imai burst out of the room and into the hall. The door swung shut with a slam that shook Atsushi right down to his bones.
And he just stood there.
After a long, silent while Atsushi was compelled to move. He left the bathroom, walked down the hall, and stepped into the dressing room he’d been in before. It was empty now. Yanking off his one boot, he began to methodically strip out of his stage clothes, throwing them on the nearby chair as he then put on the street clothes he’d arrived in. Then he went over and grabbed his jacket from the rack and put it on. He saw that his bag had been brought in here too, so he grabbed that as well before leaving the room, walking down the hall in the dark. Then he left.
He walked a long way down the streets of Tokyo, moving amongst the crowd as if no one was even there. He didn’t have a particular destination in mind, but once he saw the love hotel he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and stared at it. The people flowed around him, a few giving him dirty looks for blocking their way. He ignored them as he contemplated the idea his mind had grasped onto…and then he went inside.
Atsushi had many connections. Some of them he wasn’t very proud of. But he still used them anyway and it wasn’t long until he had a companion for the night. It was a higher class prostitute; the kind you knew wouldn’t say anything because they had their own reputation to protect. But they were somewhat high maintenance, in their own way. She even gave the place a haughty once-over after she arrived, and Atsushi didn’t blame her. The room was a themed one, made up like the inside of a plane. It was…really pathetic, but it was the only open room that actually had a bed, even if it had head- and footboards that reminded him of first-class seats.
Atsushi didn’t bother with small talk. He wasn’t in the mood for it, and she could have cared less. She knew she was being used, so it didn’t matter at all how things actually went, but out of habit Atsushi spent a long time attending to her needs first. He wasn’t sure how much she appreciated that in reality, since she was a prostitute after all and had long since learned to act, but she certainly made the right movements and sounds, so what the fuck did it matter anyway? She was a human being-present and warm and alive-and if she wanted to be there in reality or not wasn’t the issue-she was going to get paid no matter what in the end. So he could get the need for human contact out of his system without guilt or remorse. In theory, anyway.
She was one of the prostitutes who didn’t allowing kissing-and he was glad. He’d had enough of that tonight.
But, when everything was over and he lay curled up under the rather thin blankets of the bed, he didn’t feel any better. He actually felt colder inside than he had before…and lonelier.
She got up a few minutes later to shower and Atsushi stirred himself enough to dig out his wallet, count out the agreed upon wage, added a generous tip, and then tossed it all on the sterile-looking stewardess cart that stood in place of the table. Then he yanked on his clothes because it was damn cold in the room, and then crawled back into bed. He lay there, staring at the badly painted wall until she came back out. He heard her heels thump against the thin carpet on the floor. She stopped at the table, paused, and then he heard the snap of her bag opening and then closing.
But she didn’t leave after that. “Are you…okay?” she asked in a soft, questioning voice.
Atsushi blinked, startled. Without thinking about it, he sat up and looked at her. Her pretty face was marred with a faint frown. “Excuse me?”
She bit her lip, where she’d already applied her makeup. “I’m sorry, it’s just that…well, the last time it wasn’t in a place like this and…”
Last time? Atsushi peered at her closely in the murky light and realized that he had seen her before...slept with her before. Her hair had been shorter then.
He did like to admit it, but he had called on prostitutes before…and she was right. Never in a shitty place like this. There were hotels much better than this hole-in-the-wall, either made for this expressed purpose or actual places of legitimate business.
She must have noticed he recognized her. “I know your pseudonym, okyaku-san,” She was very careful not to say said pseudonym or his real name. “So I…asked to get the job again.” That could have been a compliment, but Atsushi wasn’t in the mood to take it as such. She smiled faintly, her long artfully painted nails digging into her cute little handbag. “But…I was really surprised at the address…”
“Doesn’t matter,” Atsushi muttered. Hell, she was making him feel even lower now, if that was possible.
“Aren’t you…going to leave?” she asked softly.
“No.” And he wasn’t. Might as well sleep here as anywhere else. He’d bought the time because he still didn’t want to go home…
“There have to be better places…”
Atsushi forced himself to be stern. “I appreciate the concern, but you needn’t worry. Good night.”
Clearly hearing the dismissal, she gave him one last worried look before leaving. Atsushi sat on the bed and heard the door click behind her, but he didn’t look. He just sat there for a long time, steadily growing colder in the poorly heated room, before he dragged himself up out of bed to lock the door.
Then he fell back in the uncomfortable bed, pulled the scratchy, well-worn sheets over his head, and told himself to fall asleep.
It didn’t work.
*
Imai was still trembling. Even now, sitting in the cab on the way home.
After the Incident, Imai had gone into the dressing room and changed as quickly as possible before Atsushi could come and try to “talk” to him again, and then he’d gone into the other room to tell them he wasn’t going to be staying. It took longer to get out of there than he’d expected, because everyone else was in a good mood and tried to get him to stay and join them, but he couldn’t. He had to get out of there before Atsushi showed up.
But he should have known better. Right before he got out the door, one of the roadies popped in and said that Atsushi was gone.
The others had been confused, but Imai lied and said that Atsushi had told him he was leaving, so then he’d been given the “why didn’t he tell us” and “why didn’t you say that earlier” inquisition from Toll. Imai had shrugged him off as best he could, however, and then left.
Imai hadn’t known what to feel then…he still didn’t know what to feel now. Part of him was hot with anger… trembling in fear that Atsushi knew…yearning for Atsushi to be back again and to finish what he’d started…while still another part of him, a small but much more rational part, was worried at Atsushi’s abrupt disappearance.
As soon as the cab pulled up in front of his apartment Imai got out. He paid the man and then went inside, not saying hello to the doorman, not looking at the man behind the desk. He just went to the elevator and let it carry him upstairs.
When he got to his door Imai fumbled his keys and he was just about to swear and throw them all down the hall when the right key ended up in his hand and he got the door open. He tossed the door open, stomped inside, and then slammed the door shut.
BJ was there, watching him. Imai was just about to yell at him, but he stopped himself. It wasn’t the dog’s fault.
Besides, BJ looked rather agitated already, whining softly and looking over his shoulder.
“What is it?” he asked, toeing off his shoes. Leaving them in a pile, he began to walk to the living room and BJ whined again, louder this time. “What?” he asked, turning around to face him.
“We need to talk.”
Imai’s heart leapt up into his throat as he whirled around at the sound of that voice. Standing there, in the entrance to his living room…was that blond man.
All of Imai’s earlier jealousy came crashing back over him like a tidal wave, washing out all his other emotions. “Who the hell are you!” he screamed, racing forward and shoving the man hard. He didn’t even care that the stranger was in his apartment at first, but that fact caught up with him quickly when the bigger, stronger man grabbed his fists and held him immobile in his own home. BJ quickly ran over and began to bark at the man, running around his legs, but he ignored the dog.
“I mean it, Imai-san, we need to talk,” that blond bastard said with surprising calmness. But his eyes were electric as he stared Imai down. “It’s about Sakurai-san.”
“Get the fuck out of my house,” Imai snarled, fighting against the man’s grip.
“I’ve heard that a lot recently,” the man remarked mildly. “But, no, I won’t. We have to talk,” he said the last sternly as he shoved Imai backwards and let his hands go. Imai stumbled slightly and BJ raced around between them, barking like mad.
“Why the fuck would I talk to you?” Imai retorted, his voice quivering with anger.
“Because you want to know what’s going on,” the man said, his voice and expression calm but knowing. He pointed to BJ. “Could you get him to stop, please? I’m sure he’s annoying your neighbors.”
Imai stared at this man, dumbfounded. Who was this asshole?
Whoever he was, he simply walked over to Imai’s couch-the same one Atsushi had slept on just that morning-and sat down. “You might want to sit for this,” he said.
Trapped in the sheer insanity of the moment, Imai did just that, sinking down in the nearby chair. Seeing his master sit down calmly, BJ stopped barking, but sat down like a silent guard at Imai’s side.
“Are you listening now?” the man asked.
Imai hesitated. “Yes.”
And so Imai was told everything.