Fanfiction: Payphone (Part II)
A/N:Firstly thank you to everyone who took time to comment. Given how small the fandom is, I really do appreciate every single one. Please enjoy Part 2, and comments as always are love!
***
~Part II: Answer~
***
Not many people knew that when he was trying to get his head together, Mao liked to go for drives. Drives that went on for hours, which tested his engine and emptied his gas tank.
So in the half an hour after Mizuki left, Mao decided to get a grip. In that time he made two phone calls. One was to the jeweler with whom he had a noonday appointment to push it earlier.
After he managed to move it to nine a.m., Mao then called the front desk of the hotel to ask them to rent a car that he could return in Osaka.
It did cross his mind that he might be acting childishly, running instead of facing the music, but at this point every fiber of his being just wanted to get the hell out of Tokyo.
He had hesitated however at leaving a note for Mizuki. Words failed him as he stared at the hotel notepad, his pen hovering over the paper.
What did one say in this kind of situation?
Trying to write an explanation would just contain words tainted by anger, so in the end Mao wrote a short note just telling Mizuki that he was heading back to Osaka and would talk to him then.
It was that chain of events that lead him to here, standing by the side of the road in the scorching heat staring at a smoking car.
“Well isn’t that just fucking great,” Mao growled as he kicked at the tire. It didn't make the car move but at least he felt a little better.
Mao had actually been making good progress on the highway back to Osaka. In fact, his mood had actually been on the mend as he just pressed his foot on the gas and let the car eat up the miles.
There was just something about quiet in a speeding car as the world passed by in a blur that had always calmed him down. Perhaps it was the sight of a highway that stretched for miles across the countryside like a tarmac snake, with neither a car in front nor behind him.
Mao had actually been around halfway to Osaka when he thought he felt the car struggle a little. His heart sank to around his shoes when the car started to sputter, causing him to drive to the road shoulder where it finally came to a stop.
“Bloody temp gauge must be broken,” Mao thought to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. And of course he had to have his car break down in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest rest stop ten kilometers away.
He immediately called the car rental company and gave them an earful. As apologetic as they were however, it didn't change that they didn’t have a breakdown car available until tomorrow due to a number of their drivers either calling in sick or being on leave.
“Tomorrow?!” Mao sputtered. He was so incensed that he hung up on the profusely sorry operator, who was trying to tell him that they would refund his money and offer other compensation.
“Fat lot of good that does me,” Mao grumbled, flicking his lighter to his cigarette and blowing out the smoke hard. However, the nicotine did its job and took the edge off his irritation and allowed him to think clearly.
“I should call Mi, I’m probably closer to Tokyo than home,” Mao thought. But just like when he wrote the note earlier, he hesitated over the ‘call’ key as memories of this morning came back to him in sharp clarity.
“But I guess I have no choice. As mad as he is, he won’t leave me stranded…I hope,” Mao said out loud as he made the call.
He puffed away furiously as the phone rang for several long minutes, before going to answering machine. Mao just stared at his phone in disbelief was he was asked to leave a message.
“Come on Mi, I know you hate me at this moment but please pick up!” Mao thought as he tried calling again. Once again a ring tone followed by an answering machine.
“Shit!” Mao cursed under his breath as he switched tactics and tried to send Mizuki a SMS. But Mao only got as far as typing ‘Mi’ when the phone flickered, bled white and died.
“No, no not now!” Mao cried out in anguish as he frantically pressed the on button, but with no success. Mao slumped back in the car and pressed his forearm to his forehead, the feeling of despair taking out his knees.
“Great, just fucking….great,” Mao said as he tossed his phone on the dashboard. Sighing, he stared at the long road before him and swallowed hard as the heat waves made the landscape blur and dance.
“Guess I have no choice but to walk,” Mao thought as he picked up his bag and stood up. After locking the car Mao stared at the sky and gave a hollow laugh.
“Just not my god damn day huh!?” Mao yelled out, only to be greeted by the sound of silence and wind. Resigning himself to his fate, he hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder and trudged forward.
***
Mizuki frowned as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. But he ignored it because he was currently having a conversation with Tatsurou, who was regaling him with tales of MUCC’s latest trip overseas.
He leant with his head on his hands as he listened intently and wondered when it was that Sadie would go overseas as well. It was definitely a goal of theirs, as scary as it seemed.
But when his phone vibrated again, Mizuki found he couldn't just leave it.
“Sorry Tatsurou, I’ve got a call coming in,” Mizuki apologised as he reached into his pocket. After nodding that it was okay, Mizuki pulled out his phone only to have it stop.
“Two missed calls from…Mao.”
Mizuki’s eyes narrowed as he saw his vocalist’s name in his call list. For a fleeting second he thought about calling back, only to remember this morning’s fight and stuffing it firmly back into his pocket.
“Is anything wrong Mi?” Tatsurou asked as he took a drag of his cigarette. Mizuki shook his head.
“Nothing Tatsurou, go on,” Mizuki said politely as he went back to placing his chin on the table.
But still as annoyed as he was at Mao and as intent as he was on not thinking about him, Mizuki found himself distracted for the rest of the shoot. Staring pensively into dead space as they re-did his hair and makeup for his individual parts.
And that just annoyed Mizuki even more. As playful as he was, Mizuki did take his work seriously, and it peeved him that the thoughts of his vocalist stopped him from giving a hundred percent.
“Hey, you okay?” Hiroto asked as he sat next to Mizuki while Tatsurou recorded his parts.
“Yeah Hiroto, I’m fine,” Mizuki lied as he plastered his familiar smile on his face.
But the truth was, he was nothing but. Mizuki never liked falling out with anyone, his amicable nature wanting to make up with the other person as soon as possible. Especially when it came to someone he
cared as much about as Mao.
“Bloody Mao, what the hell was his problem,” Mizuki hissed as he thought back to how Mao had been acting over the past few weeks. Actually more than anything, Mao’s sudden neediness confused him.
It was Mao that had stressed the casualness of their relationship, who had insisted that it had to be okay that they were allowed to date other people. And Mizuki had been okay with that arrangement.
Well that had been the case recently anyway.
“Before that however…” Mizuki suddenly thought.
“Hey let’s go for a smoke Mi,” Hiroto suggested, pulling the taller man to his feet. Mizuki nodded and let himself be lead by the blonde, maybe it would help to sort out his tangled thoughts.
It was a lovely day in Tokyo, if a bit on the hot side. The two guitarists stood the shade as they lit up and watched the smoke of their cigarettes blend into the sky.
“Mi…”
Mizuki started as Hiroto suddenly spoke. His brow furrowed a little as he saw Hiroto nervously shift his weight from one foot to the other.
“Yes Hiroto, what’s up?” Mizuki asked as he took another puff.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you seeing anyone at the moment? A girlfriend? Boyfriend?” Hiroto asked the last question with a straight face, taking Mizuki aback a little.
But being as quick witted as he was, it didn't take long for Mizuki to shoot back a wry grin.
“How did you guess that I was bi?” Mizuki said, extracting another cigarette from his pack.
Hiroto shrugged as he ground out his cigarette and did the same.
“I don’t know, gaydar I suppose,” he answered with a smile. “But don't avoid my question, are you seeing someone at the moment?” Hiroto pressed pointing a finger at Mizuki.
Mizuki opened his mouth and then stopped. Was he? Was he even in any kind of romantic arrangement with Mao after the blowout this morning?
“No, I’m not seeing anyone seriously,” Mizuki said firmly, making up his mind. “Why do you ask?” the taller man asked, inserting a flirtatious note into his voice.
This time it was Hiroto’s turn to be flustered, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared intently at his shoes.
“Well, I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime. To dinner or something,” Hiroto replied, his mouth curving into a cute grin. But his expression immediately turned serious.
“I like you Mizuki. I have for a while, but I always thought that maybe you and Mao had something going on, because you were so close. But now, since you said you are single, I decided…what did I have to lose,” Hiroto said with a shrug of his shoulders.
A pang struck Mizuki but it was nothing to do with how endearing Hiroto was behaving at the moment.
Mao. Just the thought of Mao and the downtrodden expression on his face was enough to make his heart ache. As mad as the vocalist made him, he was still his best friend. And going out with Hiroto, would just make the gulf between them widen even further.
“But look at how he treated you this morning? He’s the one that wanted a hands off thing and behaved
like a right prick, so why shouldn't you go out with Hiroto,” the stubborn part of him suddenly surfaced.
True enough Hiroto was gorgeous. Stunning features topped off by a shock of blonde hair highlighting his sharp cheekbones and rosebud mouth. He was funny, he was charming, and a great catch for anyone.
“Sure, why not. Let’s set it up,” Mizuki said with a definite nod putting aside his earlier reservations.
When Hiroto’s face lit up, he felt even more justified.
“Great!” Hiroto said, instantly perking up. After taking a quick look around, Hiroto suddenly leaned closer and whispered, “Let's kiss on that then.”
And before he could blink, Hiroto kissed him full on the mouth, taking his breath away.
Even though he had admitted to Hiroto he was bi, Mizuki actually didn't have that much experience kissing guys. The only one that he kissed on a regular basis, was Mao.
And Mao’s kisses were hardly perfect. Mizuki especially didn't like their kisses during lives. They were embarrassing, perfunctory and painful. Hence why he had commented once that he didn't like kissing the vocalist, only to feel a tug when he saw a flicker of hurt in Mao’s eyes.
Hiroto’s kiss in comparison was perfect. His lips were soft and yielding and tasted sweet. He knew just how to apply the right pressure, even knowing just the opportune moment to flick his tongue across Mizuki’s bottom lip.
And Mizuki hated it.
It was meaningless and he felt nothing.
It was in that moment that Mizuki realised that he wouldn't trade any of Mao’s imperfect kisses, even the ones he gave on stage, for anyone else’s.
As it struck him like a bolt, Mizuki instantly pulled back leaving Hiroto looking bewildered.
“Mi? Shit I’m sorry! That was too fast I know, but I just…”
“No, not Hiroto it’s not you! Please don’t think that, it’s just…” Mizuki stopped and bit his lip.
“It was nice and I’m okay with you kissing me…I just…wasn't honest with you earlier.”
Mizuki took a deep guilty breath.
“I just wasn't honest with you when I said I wasn't involved with anyone. Turns out, I think I’m more involved than I thought,” Mizuki said with a dry smile.
The look in Hiroto’s eyes turned into understanding as he took in his friend’s expression.
“I was right wasn't I? About you and Mao?” Hiroto said gently as he placed a hand on Mizuki’s shoulder. When Mizuki didn't reply, he gave his shoulder a light squeeze.
“Why don't you call him then? I saw you looking at your phone earlier. Call him Mi, I know you want to,” Hiroto said. Mizuki shot him a grateful glance.
“Thank you Hiroto, I’m sorry…really. “
Hiroto shook his head and gave Mizuki a light punch in the arm.
“Don’t be stupid, it’s good that you have somebody that makes you happy. Now go on and call him, I will get the others off your back for a bit,” Hiroto said, slipping his cigarettes into his pocket.
“But hey Mi, any time okay? If you fancy a change,” Hiroto winked before disappearing back into the studio.
Mizuki smiled as he took out his phone and dialed Mao. But he blinked when the call went straight to answering machine. Twisting his mouth with mild irritation, he tried again only to get the same result.
“Come on Mao, I’m trying to tell you that I forgive you for being a dick here!” Mizuki said exasperatedly to the phone. “Okay, okay I was a dick too, but come on pick up!”
Only when he failed to reach him for the fifth time that Mizuki decided to leave him a voice mail. It would do until he would see him back at the hotel and they could have a proper talk.
“Please leave your message after the beep.”
“Hey Mao, it’s Mi here. Why aren’t you picking up? Shit, I’m not trying to pick another fight or anything, I just really want to talk to you. So call back okay?”
Mizuki paused as a myriad of thoughts raced through his head, finally taking a deep breath.
“I hate it when we are mad at each other you know. I love you man, you know that right?”
With that Mizuki hung up and slowly exhaled, but there was a sparkle in his eyes. He was confident that after hearing that, Mao would call back as soon as possible.
***
Mizuki wasn't worried when Mao didn't call back in the next couple of hours. He just reasoned that the vocalist was probably trying to deal with his own issues and was waiting for the right time to call back.
Instead he just distracted himself with the rest of the PV shooting. It was time for the group shoot and that took the better part of a few hours.
However, after another hour passed Mizuki found himself getting enraged. Surely Mao wasn't that petty that he ignored such a heartfelt message from his lover?
But when two more hours flew by, Mizuki felt his anger turn to gut wrenching worry.
“Where are you Mao?” Mizuki said has he tried calling again only to reach the answering machine yet again. The shoot was over and the rest of Karasu had left, leaving just Mizuki pacing in the changing room.
After he had gotten dressed and got into a cab, Mizuki on an impulse called Kei.
“Hello?”
“Kei! It’s Mi here. Have you heard from Mao? I’ve been trying to get him for hours, and I’m wondering if he’s okay,” Mizuki said chewing a thumbnail.
“He is, but no thanks to you,” Kei answered. Mizuki blinked at the coldness in his friend’s voice.
“What happened?” Mizuki said quietly, his concern turning into a stone that sat in his stomach.
“His car broke down in the middle of the highway. Apparently the two of you had a fight this morning or something? He decided to drive back to Osaka and his car overheated,” Kei explained.
“Is he okay?” Mizuki asked, trying and failing to keep a hint of panic from creeping into his voice.
“He is sleeping in the back Mi. Apparently he tried calling, but he couldn't reach you. Then his phone died on him. He had to walk around two hours to the nearest rest stop where he called us to pick him up. So he’s exhausted.”
It was Aki speaking this time and even beneath his level tone, Mizuki could tell that he was pissed.
“Where are you guys now?” Mizuki asked as his taxi pulled up to the hotel.
“We are almost home, we are going to drop him off at his place,” Aki said.
“I’m getting the next bullet train back to Osaka. I will see him then,” Mizuki said as he rushed up to his room.
“Fine…and Mizuki.”
Mizuki closed his eyes and gripped his phone harder.
“Yes Aki?”
“Sort yourselves out will you for fuck’s sake. I don't want this kind of shit happening again, the rest of us
will only tolerate so much of both of your crap,” Aki said before hanging up.
Mizuki squeezed his eyes shut for a minute in a pained gesture before opening them and hurriedly stuffing his things into his bag.
“Do you think we were both a little hard on him Aki?” Kei suddenly said, remorseful doubt tingeing the edge of his words.
Instead of answering his lover, Aki instead shot a fleeting look over his shoulder at the sleeping blonde vocalist who was curled up in the back.
“I don’t know Kei, I really don’t,” Aki said quietly. The bassist often hid his true personality behind a cold façade, baffling Kei as to why he wouldn't like the world to know that he was down to earth, funny and furiously loyal to his friends.
But more surprisingly was that Kei understood him, understood him without words and implicitly trusted him.
Hence why all he did was loosen his seatbelt and lean over the to side to tenderly kiss Aki on the cheek.
***
It was only a few hours later that Mizuki let himself into Mao’s apartment.
“Mao?” Mizuki called out, only to be greeted by the sound of the shower. Slowly and quietly, Mizuki dropped his bag on the floor and padded into the bedroom.
Coming face to face with the closed shower door, Mizuki reached for the doorknob only to stop. Instead, he got dressed in a comfortable pair of sweats and a t-shirt that he kept in Mao’s cupboard and almost meekly crawled into bed.
And waited. And wondered what to say.
“Jeez Mizuki! What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?” Mao said as he stepped out of the shower with just a towel around his waist.
Even though Mao’s face bore an annoyed expression, Mizuki felt pure relief seep through him at the sight of the vocalist. Although he had been told that Mao was okay, to have tangible proof made the tension uncoil through his body.
“Why don't you just…come to bed Mao, you must be tired,” Mizuki said quietly. Mao nodded his head in exhaustion as he pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt.
“Yes I am Mi, too tired to talk about whatever is on your mind,” Mao said. Mizuki didn't flinch however at his harsh words, he knew he deserved part of it.
Instead he just shook his head.
“Why don't we just sleep Mao? Nothing much else matters at this point,” Mizuki answered as he pulled back the covers.
Mao nodded and sat down on the bed with his back facing to the younger man. He didn't turn around as he lay down and placed his head on the pillow. Within a few minutes, Mizuki heard his breathing become soft and regular.
It was only then that Mizuki also lay down, all the while staring at Mao’s back. Sighing to himself, Mizuki curled his body slightly so that his forehead just touched Mao’s shoulder blades. It was only the slightest touch but Mao didn’t try to move away, which was enough. Mizuki then closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
But he couldn't.
Mizuki did manage to get in a few hours only to wake up around two in the morning. He contemplated trying to get back to sleep, but knew that his tossing and turning would probably wake the older man.
Instead he crept out of the room, plunked himself on the couch and turned on the TV. Mizuki unfurled his long limbs and instantly felt himself relax. He had always preferred the vocalist’s cramped apartment to his own modern digs.
After all, he had stayed there for more than a year when Sadie first started and he had broken up with his high school sweetheart. It was during that time, that he and Mao became close.
But surprisingly it was after Mizuki had moved out that Mao had shown up at his apartment and started coming on to him. They hadn’t even been drunk when Mao suddenly whispered in his ear that he was aching for him.
And while understandably shocked, Mizuki found himself taking off his clothes pretty fast. It was the first time he had ever played bottom and was a little ashamed later how much he had liked it. How he moaned and threw his head back as Mao nailed him senseless.
Mizuki sighed and rubbed his head at old memories, trying his best to pay attention to the images flickering across the screen.
But as hard he tried, he found he couldn't concentrate on the reruns of American dramas that usually filled the dead night slot.
“How did it get to this?” Mizuki thought to himself as he cuddled a cushion.
Thinking back, Mizuki knew that all this started when Mao suddenly started acting strange. If Mizuki didn't know any better, Mao’s actions all pointed to wanting a relationship with the guitarist.
A proper relationship.
But the irony was, at one point that was all that Mizuki wanted.
Early on into their arrangement, it dawned on Mizuki that was slowly falling in love with his best friend. Casual fucking didn't give you feelings of closeness, or this need to be acknowledged as a significant other.
“And at one point, I was so sure…”
So sure that Mao wanted the same thing. Well, until Mao started seeing this fan that had somehow become her lover. A bubbly, pretty girl who Mizuki hated on sight.
So Mizuki covered his hurt the only way he knew how. He buried his feelings and started screwing around himself.
In a twisted way, the ease that he did it was Mao’s doing as well.
Mizuki held no misconceptions about himself. He knew that he wasn't for everyone and that his over the top attitude could be grating for many people.
Annoying. Irritating. Mizuki had heard that and similar insults countless times throughout his life.
And underneath all the makeup and Photoshop, Mizuki knew he wasn't considered good looking by any stretch of the imagination. All his features seemed to fit wrong, his mouth was too big, his eyes too small, all disproportionate to the other.
Ugly pretty was probably the nicest thing that had been said about him as a compliment.
So when Mao, gorgeous talented Mao told him that he wanted him, it did wonders for his ego. It made him realise that he could probably get any girl he wanted with just a wink and a few nice words.
“So why now Mao?” Mizuki wondered. “Why do you only do this to me now?”
And yet even though he knew that he still cared deeply for the older man, Mizuki still wasn't sure if a relationship between them would work. He had seen the alternative, and it was certainly emotionally less painful.
Reaching for his phone, Mizuki sent a message to Kei on the off chance that he might be awake.
“What made you know that you wanted a relationship with Aki? And I’m being serious here,” Mizuki typed.
After he sent it off, he jumped when his phone beeped barely a minute later.
“When I realised that I could just be happy watching him play piano for hours and feel happy. Get some sleep Mi, it’s okay and nothing good will come out of eye bags. Good night.”
Mizuki felt his throat ache at the softness that came across in Kei’s message, implicitly telling him that he wasn't completely blame for what happened.
“Good night Kei,” Mizuki said softly as he hugged the cushion tighter and closed his eyes.
***
Mizuki woke up only when he felt someone shaking him by the shoulder.
“Hey Mi, wake up.”
Mizuki instantly jerked awake and saw Mao sitting on the edge of the couch. Covering a yawn, Mizuki was surprised to find that he had slept through the night and that it was morning.
“Yes Mao?”
“The people from the rental company called. They are sending over a tow truck now, but I will have to show them where it is. Are you okay to drive?” Mao asked, but his eyes refused to meet the guitarist’s.
“Of course, Mao. Just let me shower and get ready,” Mizuki answered. Mao nodded and got up, and it took all Mizuki’s willpower not to pull him back down and hug him.
“Anything Mao,” Mizuki said softly, but Mao had already left the room. He wanly went to find his jeans, mentally preparing himself for a whole day in the company of Mao’s back.
True enough, during the entire one-hour plus drive down the highway, Mao didn't say a word. Instead he just stared out the window, or occasionally in the side mirror to see that the truck was still following.
After they reached the car, it took another hour for Mao to sort everything out with the rental company, arranging the tow as well as getting a slip for a refund.
All this while Mizuki stood the side quietly smoking as he took in his surroundings and realised how lonely Mao must have felt stranded out here, guilt stinging him yet again.
The silence in the car continued after they started the arduous drive back to Osaka. But even though his culpability in the whole matter had held in check his normally blunt tongue, there was so much of this heavy atmosphere Mizuki could take.
And once the guilt wore off as the drive stretched on, Mizuki wondered whether he was really solely to blame in all of this.
The thought crossed Mizuki’s mind as he shot a sharp glance at the vocalist who was still staring out the window with his arms firmly crossed across his chest.
Mao didn't say it, but from his body language it was obvious that he thought this entire scenario was Mizuki’s fault.
All his fault.
All his fucking fault.
“That’s it, screw this!” Mizuki said, angrily flicking on his indicator and swerving into the nearest rest stop, ignoring the furious honk of the truck whose lane that he had to cut into.
That certainly got a reaction from Mao who sharply turned around, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Mizuki! What the hell?!” he said clinging on to the dashboard so as to stop from being slammed into the door.
Parking in the furthest corner of the empty parking lot, Mizuki killed the engine, undid his seatbelt with an audible ‘snap’ and turned around to face the vocalist.
“Why are you acting as if this is all my doing Mao? I certainly didn't force you to drive back to Osaka. Running away like some spoilt child because you didn't want to face me!” Mizuki said, instinctively balling his fists.
Mao’s eyes narrowed.
“You didn't force me but it was because of you why I did it!” Mao answered back.
“Why? You didn't have to. You could have just stayed and talked to me about whatever is going on in the fool head of yours. So here we are Mao, we are alone with no one to disturb us so…talk!”
Mao opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again, all he wanted to say stuck in his throat stubbornly refusing to come out. Emitting a noise of pure frustration, he slumped back in his seat and rubbed his nose.
“I can’t talk to you when you are like this Mi,” he finally said, which just served to make Mizuki see red even more.
“What mood do I have to be in before you talk to me Mao? Happy? Sad? Pissed beyond belief? Well I am all that now so, talk!” Mizuki said slamming his hand against the steering wheel.
“Will you just fucking calm down!”
“You said last night that we needed to talk about this. It’s either now or never Mao, otherwise get out of my fucking car and call Aki to pick you up. I’m getting sick of all your passive aggressive shit!”
Mao’s body became ramrod stiff and his head snapped to side to meet the guitarist’s furious eyes.
“Oh so now you want to be serious. Earlier on it was just all shits and giggles wasn't it? Every time I tried to talk or sit you down, all you wanted was to suck my cock,” Mao retorted harshly.
Mizuki gritted his teeth.
“Aside from work, you’ve never wanted to be serious with me. How was I supposed to know that you meant it? I can’t read your mind Mao! What is it you want from me!”
“I want,” Mao started then stuttered.
“What! Grow some balls and spit it out!”
“I want you Mi! But not just as a casual fuck when there is nobody else. I want to be there for you when you are happy or sad or whatever! I want to be your boyfriend! I want to do stupid couple things like…holding your hand on top of the gear when you drive, shit like that.”
And then there it was, Mao’s confession. What he had wanted to say for the longest time, his feelings naked and raw between them.
For a few long agonising minutes, the only sound in the car was their mutual breathing until Mao broke it with a muttered groan as he rubbed his eyes.
“Shit, I sound like a god damn gir…”
“You almost had me Mao.”
Mao’s head jerked up when he heard Mizuki speak. When their eyes met, Mao felt his heart drop at the ghost of hurt he saw in the guitarist’s eyes.
“At one point, I thought…I thought you did want something more concrete,” Mizuki swallowed hard as he looked away to the side.
“Then you had to screw around with that girl. That fan of all things! Just when I thought we had something. And I felt like a complete fool for believing that we did,” Mizuki finished softly.
In a flash Mao remembered and felt remorse grip him painfully by the chest. How could he have forgotten her? For a time she had bewitched him, beguiled him and because it was his dick that was doing the thinking, had failed to see what a right bitch she turned out to be.
She had ended up telling the whole world that she was sleeping around with Sadie’s vocalist, which given how controlled their image was got him in boatloads of trouble. His eyes finally open, Mao had ended it soon after that and told her to fuck off.
“Oh God, Mi…”
How could he have been so sure, so arrogant that the entire fault lay with Mizuki. His blinkers so firmly on that he had overlooked his part in the whole matter as well.
It made him realise that in the end, there was nobody to blame. It was just that neither of them had the sense to tell the other, and instead had just hidden their true feelings beneath their friendship that had been strong enough to mask all the flaws.
“I’m sorry Mizuki. I am so so sorry,” Mao said, his anger falling away as his face crumpled.
Even though Mizuki wanted to continue being mad the vocalist, he found he couldn't. He could never be mad at Mao, especially not when he as being so earnest.
Besides, it wasn't entirely his fault either.
Instead, he just reached down beneath Mao’s seat to push his chair back, giving the older man a jolt. Before he could comprehending what was going on, Mao’s eyes just grew wider as Mizuki crawled on top of him, placing his knees on either side of the vocalist’s thighs.
Mao’s breath hitched as Mizuki leaned closer so that their foreheads were touching, the younger man keeping his eyes closed.
“It’s okay Mao, really. I think we both deserve the stupid prize in all of this don’t you think?” Mizuki said opening his eyes, letting Mao see that familiar mixture of boyish playfulness in his brown irises.
And it dawned on Mao that as frustrating and endearing Mizuki was in equal measure, he wouldn't have him any other way.
“I guess I understand what Kyo means now,” Mao thought wryly.
Reaching up, Mao gently ran his knuckle over Mizuki’s jaw before cupping his chin to pull him in for a kiss. Mizuki closed his eyes as a tremor ran through his body when their lips touched.
This was what a kiss should feel like, no exceptions.
But as a thought struck him, Mizuki pulled back his face carrying a hint of trepidation. Mao raised an eyebrow at the sudden break.
“Mi?”
“Hiroto kissed me yesterday Mao, since we are being honest,” Mizuki confessed as he chewed his bottom lip.
“But it meant nothing!” Mizuki added hurriedly when he saw a dark look flit across Mao’s face. “If anything, you should thank him. Because when he did, I finally realised who it was that I should have been kissing.”
When Mao didn’t say anything, Mizuki lightly punched him in the arm as his mouth curved into a pout.
“Say something Mao!”
But all Mizuki got in return was the wind knocked out of him as Mao suddenly kissed him again, hard, his hand possessively holding the sides of Mizuki’s face.
“Well you do realise that it will be the last time that someone else kisses you right? So I hope you enjoyed it, because nobody else should be kissing my boyfriend but me,” Mao growled against the taller man’s mouth.
Mizuki had to chuckle at his vocalist’s antics, but when the words filtered through, felt his heart stumble a little.
“Boyfriend huh? So we are really doing this?” Mizuki said running his thumb over Mao’s bottom lip.
Instead of replying, Mao simply kissed the thumb pad and bit gently on the digit just above the knuckle.
That unassuming gesture sparked a fire in the depths of Mizuki’s stomach. He harshly kissed the older man back, his desire spiking as he ran his hands down Mao’s chest until he reached his belt.
“I want you Mao,” Mizuki suddenly breathed as he fumbled with Mao’s belt, his fingers turning into cotton as he tugged at the loop with a curse.
“Hey, hey slow down Mi, you do realise where we are right?” Mao said as he tried to slow down the younger man’s actions. As Mao glanced out the window, he suddenly became aware of a couple of cars parked a few hundred meters away.
Not close enough to see into Mizuki’s car, but there was no assurance that they wouldn't walk over.
“I don't care Mao, I just want you to take me now, right here,” Mizuki groaned as Mao slapped his hands away. Not to be deterred, Mizuki pulled off the tank top he was wearing and threw it to the side, which was a welcome burst of relief for his skin.
With the air conditioning off, Mizuki suddenly registered the heat in the car, which was making sweat trickle down both their faces and down his shoulder blades.
“Look, it's fucking hot and we have nothing here! No condoms, no lube, how exactly are you expecting us to have sex!” Mao protested even as his cock grew hard at the sight of Mizuki all sweaty and flushed in front of him.
“Oh for goodness sake Mao, stop being such a prude! You know how long it’s been since we had sex?” Mizuki asked as he fumbled with his own jeans, his underwear beginning to stick uncomfortably to his balls.
Mao raised an eyebrow at him.
“A week Mizuki,” he answered flatly.
“Exactly, too fucking long. Now unless you take your cock out and do something with it, I might have to take up Hiroto on his offer,” Mizuki smirked as he pushed his underwear down his thighs as far as it could go.
Tracing the tip of his penis with his fingers, Mizuki arched his long torso against the dashboard, which
made his cock stand proudly at attention. If the words weren’t taunting enough, Mizuki’s display made any sense of propriety Mao may have had fly out the window.
“Like hell you will!” Mao growled as he grabbed Mizuki’s cock and gave it a hard squeeze, which made him squirm as his thighs trembled from the strain of holding himself upright. It became even harder when Mao started rubbing his own cock against the sensitive skin below Mizuki’s balls.
“Stop Mao,” Mizuki suddenly gasped. What Mao was doing was good, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't what he wanted. With great difficulty, Mizuki wriggled his way out of his jeans and threw them on the driver’s side chair.
He then dropped to his knees as much as the cramped space would allow and frantically started pulling
at Mao’s underwear to reveal more of his dick. Without preamble, Mizuki then proceeded to give Mao the wettest blowjob he could.
“Mi..zu..ki..” Mao drew out his lover’s name with a moan as the guitarist twisted and twirled his tongue, making sure to cover every inch of prick with spit, paying special attention to the balls at the tip.
It was a poor substitute for lube, but at this point Mizuki was actually past caring about being comfortable. He was hot as hell, their skin glistened with perspiration, sticking and rubbing together.
But all he wanted was Mao inside him.
Driven by that need, Mizuki abandoned Mao’s cock and pulled the seat incline handle so that the passenger chair was completely supine. Their minds finally on the same wavelength, Mao helped Mizuki crawl on top of him, his ass finally making contact with the vocalist’s cock, both sticky with sweat and saliva.
“You are such a pervert Mi,” Mao said as he started sucking on two of his fingers, making it was wet as he could possibly could even as the heat made his throat dry. Even as he did this, his other hand was just as busy jerking Mizuki off.
“Stop complaining Mao and fuck me with that massive cock of yours,” Mizuki said petulantly, but he softened his order with a teasing wink.
Mao had to chuckle at Mizuki’s over the top compliment. Yanking him down by a lock of hair, Mao licked and sucked at Mizuki’s throat until he felt the skin swell with blood.
“You do know that I am sure a thing right?” Mao whispered huskily, causing Mizuki to grin as he heard his own words parroted back to him. But he gasped when lifted himself slightly and he felt those wet fingers on his arsehole.
“I will make you come,” Mao said smokily, pressing those two fingers against the resistant muscle until he felt Mizuki’s body swallow the intrusion. Mizuki’s breathing became labored when he felt Mao reach his prostate, that he worked with strong downward strokes, making made his body tremble and shudder.
“Now Mao, I don’t care if the whole world watches us fucking. I need you, right now,” Mizuki breathed, his desire pushed to near breaking point. Especially when Mao sucked at his nipples, biting hard at the salty areolas.
At this point Mao was having a hard time containing his own lust. Pulling his fingers out, he aligned his cock with Mizuki’s back entrance and firmly pushed the head in.
Given the lack of lubrication, the slide in wasn’t as smooth as it normally was, which Mizuki tried to compensate by relaxing and shifting his weight backwards until his ass was flush against the vocalist’s balls.
“Fuck…Mao…this feels…” Mizuki tried to explain but all he could feel was the coldness of Mao’s cock piercing contrasting sharply with the blazing heat of his cock inside him.
Before Mizuki could catch his breath however, Mao grabbed his hips and thrust upwards. It made Mizuki arch his back and cry out, especially when Mao didn’t slow down his pace, persistently fucking him like a jackhammer.
It got to the point that Mizuki had to stretch his long arms out to brace himself against the sides of the car every time that Mao fucked him.
“I can take you bareback now Mi, you realise that,” Mao whispered dirtily as he started manipulating Mizuki’s testicles in his hands. But he found he couldn't speak when Mizuki just gave him a heated look, sweat trickling down every expanse of skin, plastering his caramel bangs to his forehead.
“Deeper Mao, I want you deeper,” was all Mizuki could say as he clenched his body around Mao’s cock, groaning deep in his chest as he met the resistance of the piercing rubbing the sensitive spots inside him.
In response, Mao bit down on Mizuki’s lip ring, making the flesh yield just enough to send painful pleasure sparks race down to his groin.
“Then get in the backseat Mi,” Mao ordered, panting even harder when Mizuki licked the sensitive spot just below his earlobe.
After pulling apart their bodies with a hiss, Mizuki lay on the seat behind the driver’s side and unabashedly spread his legs while fondling his own cock. The challenging look in his eyes as he held on to the rear seatbelt was a lust kick Mao had never experienced before.
He didn’t even bother taking off his pants before parting Mizuki’s asscheeks and ramming his cock home, which made both of them cry out, their sounds of pleasure ringing in their ears given the small
space of the car.
Mao only paused a fraction before he let go between Mizuki’s thighs, all his earlier restraint melting away as he screwed his lover so hard that the taller man felt his head bump against the headrest.
Not that Mizuki cared either, moaning encouragement to Mao to not stop fucking him as his orgasm came within tangible reach. With one hand he held on to Mao’s shoulder as he tried his hardest to keep his legs apart, and felt even more sweat trickle over his clenched fingers.
Mizuki only faintly registered the car rocking beneath Mao’s powerful thrusts, as he pounded into him harder and harder all the while frantically kissing him on the mouth.
“Coming…Mao,” Mizuki moaned brokenly as his cock twitched, spilling his seed all over the lower half of his body. But his orgasm didn't stop as a particularly hard thrust from Mao caused another spurt of semen from the tip of his cock.
Mao groaned deep in his throat at his own climax gripped him, punctuating each quiver of his body with push of his hips. There was just something so erotic about feeling the heat of his own spunk around his shaft that it made his elbows give out.
“Mi….”
But thankfully Mizuki was there to catch him before he could crash particularly hard against his chest. Having come first, the intensity of his feelings was less, so he could just reassuringly stroke Mao’s sweat soaked hair as he let him catch his breath.
Now that, was fantastic sex Mao thought to himself with a half smile. In your face Kei, the vocalist added that mental taunt with a grin on his face.
“And I thought I was the one who was half off his rocker, what the fuck are you smiling about baby?” Mizuki asked, as he lovingly wiped the sweat from Mao’s face.
Mao shook his head, he would tell Mizuki about it another day.
“Nothing Mi,” Mao said gently as he kissed his lover’s bruised lips as he tried to sooth the thin skin with his tongue.
“Nothing at all.”
Mizuki grinned back as he wrapped his hands around Mao’s waist so he could kiss his nose. But when he suddenly stiffened, Mao looked up in surprise.
“Mizuki?”
“Mao…don’t look now, but I think there is someone coming towards the car,” Mizuki said, panic snapping the heels of his words like a rubber band.
“Really? Who is it?” Mao asked confused, but his eyes widened with understanding when Mizuki shot him a look that told him he was clearly stupid.
“Fuckity fuck!” Mao suddenly cried as he hurriedly tried to do up his pants. They frantically worked to untangle themselves, as Mizuki tried to get back into the driver’s seat.
“Where the fuck are my pants Mao?!” Mizuki asked as he scrambled into his seat. Now it was Mao’s turn to shoot Mizuki the look he had earlier.
“Who cares Mizuki! Just drive! Unless you want to explain to management why we are naked in your car in public!” Mao said as he hurriedly threw a shirt at Mizuki.
Mizuki pulled it on with one hand as he started the car with the other. Just before the person could catch sight of what was in the gar, he threw the handbrake and floored the gas.
Mao just caught a disapproving look on the stranger’s face as they raced by as Mizuki pulled onto the highway. Once the rest stop was a safe couple of kilometers behind them, the two of them just looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“That…was close,” Mizuki said, theatrically wiping the sweat from his brow. Mao chortled as he adjusted the air conditioning to dry his hair as he wiped off the earlier traces of their lovemaking with his t-shirt, laughing even harder when he realised that Mizuki was driving naked from the waist down.
“It was fun though,” Mao said as he had to forgo putting on his shirt in lieu of giving Mizuki some decency as he draped it over his lover’s thighs. Mizuki gave Mao a grateful look.
“Well, there is another rest stop 50 kilometers away. Feel like another round?” Mizuki said cheekily patting Mao’s crotch. Mao just shot the guitarist a withering glance.
“No Mizuki,” Mao said firmly, causing the younger man to pout.
“Great, I’m stuck with a boring boyfriend with no imagination or sense of adventure,” Mizuki said in a mock huff. But Mao didn't hear him really as he saw Mizuki place his hand on top of the gear to shift it.
Mao hesitantly put his hand on top of Mizuki’s, interlacing their fingers and giving it a light squeeze. But he breathed easier when he felt Mizuki give a squeeze back.
***
“Thank you very much, please come again!”
Mao nodded at the cheery checkout girl as he pocketed his change and a pack of cigarettes. The truth was, he already had a pretty full pack already on him but, he was once again in a situation where he needed change.
“Bloody Sod’s law,” Mao sighed as he walked towards the nearest phonebooth. The irony was that he was actually going to the phone shop this afternoon after Mizuki threatened to give him no more blowjobs if he didn't fix his fucking phone.
But as always with electronic gadgets, they seemed to know when they were being replaced and thus refused to work at the most inopportune time. Like when Mao had to tell Mizuki to pick him up from a different street than what they had agreed on.
Slipping the coins into the phone, Mao dialed Mizuki’s number and offhandedly counted the number of rings before it went to voice message.
However, unlike last time, Mao didn’t feel himself getting upset or annoyed as he dialed again. He reasoned that Mizuki probably had his hands full at the moment or was driving.
Thinking back, Mao felt a little silly at how he acted, how he let his fear control him back then. In the end, there was nothing quite like the assurance that there would always be somebody there to pick up his call.
Even if it wasn't on the first ring.
“Hello?”
***
The End
***
***
~Part II: Answer~
***
Not many people knew that when he was trying to get his head together, Mao liked to go for drives. Drives that went on for hours, which tested his engine and emptied his gas tank.
So in the half an hour after Mizuki left, Mao decided to get a grip. In that time he made two phone calls. One was to the jeweler with whom he had a noonday appointment to push it earlier.
After he managed to move it to nine a.m., Mao then called the front desk of the hotel to ask them to rent a car that he could return in Osaka.
It did cross his mind that he might be acting childishly, running instead of facing the music, but at this point every fiber of his being just wanted to get the hell out of Tokyo.
He had hesitated however at leaving a note for Mizuki. Words failed him as he stared at the hotel notepad, his pen hovering over the paper.
What did one say in this kind of situation?
Trying to write an explanation would just contain words tainted by anger, so in the end Mao wrote a short note just telling Mizuki that he was heading back to Osaka and would talk to him then.
It was that chain of events that lead him to here, standing by the side of the road in the scorching heat staring at a smoking car.
“Well isn’t that just fucking great,” Mao growled as he kicked at the tire. It didn't make the car move but at least he felt a little better.
Mao had actually been making good progress on the highway back to Osaka. In fact, his mood had actually been on the mend as he just pressed his foot on the gas and let the car eat up the miles.
There was just something about quiet in a speeding car as the world passed by in a blur that had always calmed him down. Perhaps it was the sight of a highway that stretched for miles across the countryside like a tarmac snake, with neither a car in front nor behind him.
Mao had actually been around halfway to Osaka when he thought he felt the car struggle a little. His heart sank to around his shoes when the car started to sputter, causing him to drive to the road shoulder where it finally came to a stop.
“Bloody temp gauge must be broken,” Mao thought to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. And of course he had to have his car break down in the middle of nowhere, with the nearest rest stop ten kilometers away.
He immediately called the car rental company and gave them an earful. As apologetic as they were however, it didn't change that they didn’t have a breakdown car available until tomorrow due to a number of their drivers either calling in sick or being on leave.
“Tomorrow?!” Mao sputtered. He was so incensed that he hung up on the profusely sorry operator, who was trying to tell him that they would refund his money and offer other compensation.
“Fat lot of good that does me,” Mao grumbled, flicking his lighter to his cigarette and blowing out the smoke hard. However, the nicotine did its job and took the edge off his irritation and allowed him to think clearly.
“I should call Mi, I’m probably closer to Tokyo than home,” Mao thought. But just like when he wrote the note earlier, he hesitated over the ‘call’ key as memories of this morning came back to him in sharp clarity.
“But I guess I have no choice. As mad as he is, he won’t leave me stranded…I hope,” Mao said out loud as he made the call.
He puffed away furiously as the phone rang for several long minutes, before going to answering machine. Mao just stared at his phone in disbelief was he was asked to leave a message.
“Come on Mi, I know you hate me at this moment but please pick up!” Mao thought as he tried calling again. Once again a ring tone followed by an answering machine.
“Shit!” Mao cursed under his breath as he switched tactics and tried to send Mizuki a SMS. But Mao only got as far as typing ‘Mi’ when the phone flickered, bled white and died.
“No, no not now!” Mao cried out in anguish as he frantically pressed the on button, but with no success. Mao slumped back in the car and pressed his forearm to his forehead, the feeling of despair taking out his knees.
“Great, just fucking….great,” Mao said as he tossed his phone on the dashboard. Sighing, he stared at the long road before him and swallowed hard as the heat waves made the landscape blur and dance.
“Guess I have no choice but to walk,” Mao thought as he picked up his bag and stood up. After locking the car Mao stared at the sky and gave a hollow laugh.
“Just not my god damn day huh!?” Mao yelled out, only to be greeted by the sound of silence and wind. Resigning himself to his fate, he hoisted his bag higher on his shoulder and trudged forward.
***
Mizuki frowned as he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. But he ignored it because he was currently having a conversation with Tatsurou, who was regaling him with tales of MUCC’s latest trip overseas.
He leant with his head on his hands as he listened intently and wondered when it was that Sadie would go overseas as well. It was definitely a goal of theirs, as scary as it seemed.
But when his phone vibrated again, Mizuki found he couldn't just leave it.
“Sorry Tatsurou, I’ve got a call coming in,” Mizuki apologised as he reached into his pocket. After nodding that it was okay, Mizuki pulled out his phone only to have it stop.
“Two missed calls from…Mao.”
Mizuki’s eyes narrowed as he saw his vocalist’s name in his call list. For a fleeting second he thought about calling back, only to remember this morning’s fight and stuffing it firmly back into his pocket.
“Is anything wrong Mi?” Tatsurou asked as he took a drag of his cigarette. Mizuki shook his head.
“Nothing Tatsurou, go on,” Mizuki said politely as he went back to placing his chin on the table.
But still as annoyed as he was at Mao and as intent as he was on not thinking about him, Mizuki found himself distracted for the rest of the shoot. Staring pensively into dead space as they re-did his hair and makeup for his individual parts.
And that just annoyed Mizuki even more. As playful as he was, Mizuki did take his work seriously, and it peeved him that the thoughts of his vocalist stopped him from giving a hundred percent.
“Hey, you okay?” Hiroto asked as he sat next to Mizuki while Tatsurou recorded his parts.
“Yeah Hiroto, I’m fine,” Mizuki lied as he plastered his familiar smile on his face.
But the truth was, he was nothing but. Mizuki never liked falling out with anyone, his amicable nature wanting to make up with the other person as soon as possible. Especially when it came to someone he
cared as much about as Mao.
“Bloody Mao, what the hell was his problem,” Mizuki hissed as he thought back to how Mao had been acting over the past few weeks. Actually more than anything, Mao’s sudden neediness confused him.
It was Mao that had stressed the casualness of their relationship, who had insisted that it had to be okay that they were allowed to date other people. And Mizuki had been okay with that arrangement.
Well that had been the case recently anyway.
“Before that however…” Mizuki suddenly thought.
“Hey let’s go for a smoke Mi,” Hiroto suggested, pulling the taller man to his feet. Mizuki nodded and let himself be lead by the blonde, maybe it would help to sort out his tangled thoughts.
It was a lovely day in Tokyo, if a bit on the hot side. The two guitarists stood the shade as they lit up and watched the smoke of their cigarettes blend into the sky.
“Mi…”
Mizuki started as Hiroto suddenly spoke. His brow furrowed a little as he saw Hiroto nervously shift his weight from one foot to the other.
“Yes Hiroto, what’s up?” Mizuki asked as he took another puff.
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but are you seeing anyone at the moment? A girlfriend? Boyfriend?” Hiroto asked the last question with a straight face, taking Mizuki aback a little.
But being as quick witted as he was, it didn't take long for Mizuki to shoot back a wry grin.
“How did you guess that I was bi?” Mizuki said, extracting another cigarette from his pack.
Hiroto shrugged as he ground out his cigarette and did the same.
“I don’t know, gaydar I suppose,” he answered with a smile. “But don't avoid my question, are you seeing someone at the moment?” Hiroto pressed pointing a finger at Mizuki.
Mizuki opened his mouth and then stopped. Was he? Was he even in any kind of romantic arrangement with Mao after the blowout this morning?
“No, I’m not seeing anyone seriously,” Mizuki said firmly, making up his mind. “Why do you ask?” the taller man asked, inserting a flirtatious note into his voice.
This time it was Hiroto’s turn to be flustered, rubbing the back of his neck as he stared intently at his shoes.
“Well, I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime. To dinner or something,” Hiroto replied, his mouth curving into a cute grin. But his expression immediately turned serious.
“I like you Mizuki. I have for a while, but I always thought that maybe you and Mao had something going on, because you were so close. But now, since you said you are single, I decided…what did I have to lose,” Hiroto said with a shrug of his shoulders.
A pang struck Mizuki but it was nothing to do with how endearing Hiroto was behaving at the moment.
Mao. Just the thought of Mao and the downtrodden expression on his face was enough to make his heart ache. As mad as the vocalist made him, he was still his best friend. And going out with Hiroto, would just make the gulf between them widen even further.
“But look at how he treated you this morning? He’s the one that wanted a hands off thing and behaved
like a right prick, so why shouldn't you go out with Hiroto,” the stubborn part of him suddenly surfaced.
True enough Hiroto was gorgeous. Stunning features topped off by a shock of blonde hair highlighting his sharp cheekbones and rosebud mouth. He was funny, he was charming, and a great catch for anyone.
“Sure, why not. Let’s set it up,” Mizuki said with a definite nod putting aside his earlier reservations.
When Hiroto’s face lit up, he felt even more justified.
“Great!” Hiroto said, instantly perking up. After taking a quick look around, Hiroto suddenly leaned closer and whispered, “Let's kiss on that then.”
And before he could blink, Hiroto kissed him full on the mouth, taking his breath away.
Even though he had admitted to Hiroto he was bi, Mizuki actually didn't have that much experience kissing guys. The only one that he kissed on a regular basis, was Mao.
And Mao’s kisses were hardly perfect. Mizuki especially didn't like their kisses during lives. They were embarrassing, perfunctory and painful. Hence why he had commented once that he didn't like kissing the vocalist, only to feel a tug when he saw a flicker of hurt in Mao’s eyes.
Hiroto’s kiss in comparison was perfect. His lips were soft and yielding and tasted sweet. He knew just how to apply the right pressure, even knowing just the opportune moment to flick his tongue across Mizuki’s bottom lip.
And Mizuki hated it.
It was meaningless and he felt nothing.
It was in that moment that Mizuki realised that he wouldn't trade any of Mao’s imperfect kisses, even the ones he gave on stage, for anyone else’s.
As it struck him like a bolt, Mizuki instantly pulled back leaving Hiroto looking bewildered.
“Mi? Shit I’m sorry! That was too fast I know, but I just…”
“No, not Hiroto it’s not you! Please don’t think that, it’s just…” Mizuki stopped and bit his lip.
“It was nice and I’m okay with you kissing me…I just…wasn't honest with you earlier.”
Mizuki took a deep guilty breath.
“I just wasn't honest with you when I said I wasn't involved with anyone. Turns out, I think I’m more involved than I thought,” Mizuki said with a dry smile.
The look in Hiroto’s eyes turned into understanding as he took in his friend’s expression.
“I was right wasn't I? About you and Mao?” Hiroto said gently as he placed a hand on Mizuki’s shoulder. When Mizuki didn't reply, he gave his shoulder a light squeeze.
“Why don't you call him then? I saw you looking at your phone earlier. Call him Mi, I know you want to,” Hiroto said. Mizuki shot him a grateful glance.
“Thank you Hiroto, I’m sorry…really. “
Hiroto shook his head and gave Mizuki a light punch in the arm.
“Don’t be stupid, it’s good that you have somebody that makes you happy. Now go on and call him, I will get the others off your back for a bit,” Hiroto said, slipping his cigarettes into his pocket.
“But hey Mi, any time okay? If you fancy a change,” Hiroto winked before disappearing back into the studio.
Mizuki smiled as he took out his phone and dialed Mao. But he blinked when the call went straight to answering machine. Twisting his mouth with mild irritation, he tried again only to get the same result.
“Come on Mao, I’m trying to tell you that I forgive you for being a dick here!” Mizuki said exasperatedly to the phone. “Okay, okay I was a dick too, but come on pick up!”
Only when he failed to reach him for the fifth time that Mizuki decided to leave him a voice mail. It would do until he would see him back at the hotel and they could have a proper talk.
“Please leave your message after the beep.”
“Hey Mao, it’s Mi here. Why aren’t you picking up? Shit, I’m not trying to pick another fight or anything, I just really want to talk to you. So call back okay?”
Mizuki paused as a myriad of thoughts raced through his head, finally taking a deep breath.
“I hate it when we are mad at each other you know. I love you man, you know that right?”
With that Mizuki hung up and slowly exhaled, but there was a sparkle in his eyes. He was confident that after hearing that, Mao would call back as soon as possible.
***
Mizuki wasn't worried when Mao didn't call back in the next couple of hours. He just reasoned that the vocalist was probably trying to deal with his own issues and was waiting for the right time to call back.
Instead he just distracted himself with the rest of the PV shooting. It was time for the group shoot and that took the better part of a few hours.
However, after another hour passed Mizuki found himself getting enraged. Surely Mao wasn't that petty that he ignored such a heartfelt message from his lover?
But when two more hours flew by, Mizuki felt his anger turn to gut wrenching worry.
“Where are you Mao?” Mizuki said has he tried calling again only to reach the answering machine yet again. The shoot was over and the rest of Karasu had left, leaving just Mizuki pacing in the changing room.
After he had gotten dressed and got into a cab, Mizuki on an impulse called Kei.
“Hello?”
“Kei! It’s Mi here. Have you heard from Mao? I’ve been trying to get him for hours, and I’m wondering if he’s okay,” Mizuki said chewing a thumbnail.
“He is, but no thanks to you,” Kei answered. Mizuki blinked at the coldness in his friend’s voice.
“What happened?” Mizuki said quietly, his concern turning into a stone that sat in his stomach.
“His car broke down in the middle of the highway. Apparently the two of you had a fight this morning or something? He decided to drive back to Osaka and his car overheated,” Kei explained.
“Is he okay?” Mizuki asked, trying and failing to keep a hint of panic from creeping into his voice.
“He is sleeping in the back Mi. Apparently he tried calling, but he couldn't reach you. Then his phone died on him. He had to walk around two hours to the nearest rest stop where he called us to pick him up. So he’s exhausted.”
It was Aki speaking this time and even beneath his level tone, Mizuki could tell that he was pissed.
“Where are you guys now?” Mizuki asked as his taxi pulled up to the hotel.
“We are almost home, we are going to drop him off at his place,” Aki said.
“I’m getting the next bullet train back to Osaka. I will see him then,” Mizuki said as he rushed up to his room.
“Fine…and Mizuki.”
Mizuki closed his eyes and gripped his phone harder.
“Yes Aki?”
“Sort yourselves out will you for fuck’s sake. I don't want this kind of shit happening again, the rest of us
will only tolerate so much of both of your crap,” Aki said before hanging up.
Mizuki squeezed his eyes shut for a minute in a pained gesture before opening them and hurriedly stuffing his things into his bag.
“Do you think we were both a little hard on him Aki?” Kei suddenly said, remorseful doubt tingeing the edge of his words.
Instead of answering his lover, Aki instead shot a fleeting look over his shoulder at the sleeping blonde vocalist who was curled up in the back.
“I don’t know Kei, I really don’t,” Aki said quietly. The bassist often hid his true personality behind a cold façade, baffling Kei as to why he wouldn't like the world to know that he was down to earth, funny and furiously loyal to his friends.
But more surprisingly was that Kei understood him, understood him without words and implicitly trusted him.
Hence why all he did was loosen his seatbelt and lean over the to side to tenderly kiss Aki on the cheek.
***
It was only a few hours later that Mizuki let himself into Mao’s apartment.
“Mao?” Mizuki called out, only to be greeted by the sound of the shower. Slowly and quietly, Mizuki dropped his bag on the floor and padded into the bedroom.
Coming face to face with the closed shower door, Mizuki reached for the doorknob only to stop. Instead, he got dressed in a comfortable pair of sweats and a t-shirt that he kept in Mao’s cupboard and almost meekly crawled into bed.
And waited. And wondered what to say.
“Jeez Mizuki! What are you trying to do? Give me a heart attack?” Mao said as he stepped out of the shower with just a towel around his waist.
Even though Mao’s face bore an annoyed expression, Mizuki felt pure relief seep through him at the sight of the vocalist. Although he had been told that Mao was okay, to have tangible proof made the tension uncoil through his body.
“Why don't you just…come to bed Mao, you must be tired,” Mizuki said quietly. Mao nodded his head in exhaustion as he pulled on a pair of shorts and a shirt.
“Yes I am Mi, too tired to talk about whatever is on your mind,” Mao said. Mizuki didn't flinch however at his harsh words, he knew he deserved part of it.
Instead he just shook his head.
“Why don't we just sleep Mao? Nothing much else matters at this point,” Mizuki answered as he pulled back the covers.
Mao nodded and sat down on the bed with his back facing to the younger man. He didn't turn around as he lay down and placed his head on the pillow. Within a few minutes, Mizuki heard his breathing become soft and regular.
It was only then that Mizuki also lay down, all the while staring at Mao’s back. Sighing to himself, Mizuki curled his body slightly so that his forehead just touched Mao’s shoulder blades. It was only the slightest touch but Mao didn’t try to move away, which was enough. Mizuki then closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
But he couldn't.
Mizuki did manage to get in a few hours only to wake up around two in the morning. He contemplated trying to get back to sleep, but knew that his tossing and turning would probably wake the older man.
Instead he crept out of the room, plunked himself on the couch and turned on the TV. Mizuki unfurled his long limbs and instantly felt himself relax. He had always preferred the vocalist’s cramped apartment to his own modern digs.
After all, he had stayed there for more than a year when Sadie first started and he had broken up with his high school sweetheart. It was during that time, that he and Mao became close.
But surprisingly it was after Mizuki had moved out that Mao had shown up at his apartment and started coming on to him. They hadn’t even been drunk when Mao suddenly whispered in his ear that he was aching for him.
And while understandably shocked, Mizuki found himself taking off his clothes pretty fast. It was the first time he had ever played bottom and was a little ashamed later how much he had liked it. How he moaned and threw his head back as Mao nailed him senseless.
Mizuki sighed and rubbed his head at old memories, trying his best to pay attention to the images flickering across the screen.
But as hard he tried, he found he couldn't concentrate on the reruns of American dramas that usually filled the dead night slot.
“How did it get to this?” Mizuki thought to himself as he cuddled a cushion.
Thinking back, Mizuki knew that all this started when Mao suddenly started acting strange. If Mizuki didn't know any better, Mao’s actions all pointed to wanting a relationship with the guitarist.
A proper relationship.
But the irony was, at one point that was all that Mizuki wanted.
Early on into their arrangement, it dawned on Mizuki that was slowly falling in love with his best friend. Casual fucking didn't give you feelings of closeness, or this need to be acknowledged as a significant other.
“And at one point, I was so sure…”
So sure that Mao wanted the same thing. Well, until Mao started seeing this fan that had somehow become her lover. A bubbly, pretty girl who Mizuki hated on sight.
So Mizuki covered his hurt the only way he knew how. He buried his feelings and started screwing around himself.
In a twisted way, the ease that he did it was Mao’s doing as well.
Mizuki held no misconceptions about himself. He knew that he wasn't for everyone and that his over the top attitude could be grating for many people.
Annoying. Irritating. Mizuki had heard that and similar insults countless times throughout his life.
And underneath all the makeup and Photoshop, Mizuki knew he wasn't considered good looking by any stretch of the imagination. All his features seemed to fit wrong, his mouth was too big, his eyes too small, all disproportionate to the other.
Ugly pretty was probably the nicest thing that had been said about him as a compliment.
So when Mao, gorgeous talented Mao told him that he wanted him, it did wonders for his ego. It made him realise that he could probably get any girl he wanted with just a wink and a few nice words.
“So why now Mao?” Mizuki wondered. “Why do you only do this to me now?”
And yet even though he knew that he still cared deeply for the older man, Mizuki still wasn't sure if a relationship between them would work. He had seen the alternative, and it was certainly emotionally less painful.
Reaching for his phone, Mizuki sent a message to Kei on the off chance that he might be awake.
“What made you know that you wanted a relationship with Aki? And I’m being serious here,” Mizuki typed.
After he sent it off, he jumped when his phone beeped barely a minute later.
“When I realised that I could just be happy watching him play piano for hours and feel happy. Get some sleep Mi, it’s okay and nothing good will come out of eye bags. Good night.”
Mizuki felt his throat ache at the softness that came across in Kei’s message, implicitly telling him that he wasn't completely blame for what happened.
“Good night Kei,” Mizuki said softly as he hugged the cushion tighter and closed his eyes.
***
Mizuki woke up only when he felt someone shaking him by the shoulder.
“Hey Mi, wake up.”
Mizuki instantly jerked awake and saw Mao sitting on the edge of the couch. Covering a yawn, Mizuki was surprised to find that he had slept through the night and that it was morning.
“Yes Mao?”
“The people from the rental company called. They are sending over a tow truck now, but I will have to show them where it is. Are you okay to drive?” Mao asked, but his eyes refused to meet the guitarist’s.
“Of course, Mao. Just let me shower and get ready,” Mizuki answered. Mao nodded and got up, and it took all Mizuki’s willpower not to pull him back down and hug him.
“Anything Mao,” Mizuki said softly, but Mao had already left the room. He wanly went to find his jeans, mentally preparing himself for a whole day in the company of Mao’s back.
True enough, during the entire one-hour plus drive down the highway, Mao didn't say a word. Instead he just stared out the window, or occasionally in the side mirror to see that the truck was still following.
After they reached the car, it took another hour for Mao to sort everything out with the rental company, arranging the tow as well as getting a slip for a refund.
All this while Mizuki stood the side quietly smoking as he took in his surroundings and realised how lonely Mao must have felt stranded out here, guilt stinging him yet again.
The silence in the car continued after they started the arduous drive back to Osaka. But even though his culpability in the whole matter had held in check his normally blunt tongue, there was so much of this heavy atmosphere Mizuki could take.
And once the guilt wore off as the drive stretched on, Mizuki wondered whether he was really solely to blame in all of this.
The thought crossed Mizuki’s mind as he shot a sharp glance at the vocalist who was still staring out the window with his arms firmly crossed across his chest.
Mao didn't say it, but from his body language it was obvious that he thought this entire scenario was Mizuki’s fault.
All his fault.
All his fucking fault.
“That’s it, screw this!” Mizuki said, angrily flicking on his indicator and swerving into the nearest rest stop, ignoring the furious honk of the truck whose lane that he had to cut into.
That certainly got a reaction from Mao who sharply turned around, his eyes wide with surprise.
“Mizuki! What the hell?!” he said clinging on to the dashboard so as to stop from being slammed into the door.
Parking in the furthest corner of the empty parking lot, Mizuki killed the engine, undid his seatbelt with an audible ‘snap’ and turned around to face the vocalist.
“Why are you acting as if this is all my doing Mao? I certainly didn't force you to drive back to Osaka. Running away like some spoilt child because you didn't want to face me!” Mizuki said, instinctively balling his fists.
Mao’s eyes narrowed.
“You didn't force me but it was because of you why I did it!” Mao answered back.
“Why? You didn't have to. You could have just stayed and talked to me about whatever is going on in the fool head of yours. So here we are Mao, we are alone with no one to disturb us so…talk!”
Mao opened his mouth to speak, only to close it again, all he wanted to say stuck in his throat stubbornly refusing to come out. Emitting a noise of pure frustration, he slumped back in his seat and rubbed his nose.
“I can’t talk to you when you are like this Mi,” he finally said, which just served to make Mizuki see red even more.
“What mood do I have to be in before you talk to me Mao? Happy? Sad? Pissed beyond belief? Well I am all that now so, talk!” Mizuki said slamming his hand against the steering wheel.
“Will you just fucking calm down!”
“You said last night that we needed to talk about this. It’s either now or never Mao, otherwise get out of my fucking car and call Aki to pick you up. I’m getting sick of all your passive aggressive shit!”
Mao’s body became ramrod stiff and his head snapped to side to meet the guitarist’s furious eyes.
“Oh so now you want to be serious. Earlier on it was just all shits and giggles wasn't it? Every time I tried to talk or sit you down, all you wanted was to suck my cock,” Mao retorted harshly.
Mizuki gritted his teeth.
“Aside from work, you’ve never wanted to be serious with me. How was I supposed to know that you meant it? I can’t read your mind Mao! What is it you want from me!”
“I want,” Mao started then stuttered.
“What! Grow some balls and spit it out!”
“I want you Mi! But not just as a casual fuck when there is nobody else. I want to be there for you when you are happy or sad or whatever! I want to be your boyfriend! I want to do stupid couple things like…holding your hand on top of the gear when you drive, shit like that.”
And then there it was, Mao’s confession. What he had wanted to say for the longest time, his feelings naked and raw between them.
For a few long agonising minutes, the only sound in the car was their mutual breathing until Mao broke it with a muttered groan as he rubbed his eyes.
“Shit, I sound like a god damn gir…”
“You almost had me Mao.”
Mao’s head jerked up when he heard Mizuki speak. When their eyes met, Mao felt his heart drop at the ghost of hurt he saw in the guitarist’s eyes.
“At one point, I thought…I thought you did want something more concrete,” Mizuki swallowed hard as he looked away to the side.
“Then you had to screw around with that girl. That fan of all things! Just when I thought we had something. And I felt like a complete fool for believing that we did,” Mizuki finished softly.
In a flash Mao remembered and felt remorse grip him painfully by the chest. How could he have forgotten her? For a time she had bewitched him, beguiled him and because it was his dick that was doing the thinking, had failed to see what a right bitch she turned out to be.
She had ended up telling the whole world that she was sleeping around with Sadie’s vocalist, which given how controlled their image was got him in boatloads of trouble. His eyes finally open, Mao had ended it soon after that and told her to fuck off.
“Oh God, Mi…”
How could he have been so sure, so arrogant that the entire fault lay with Mizuki. His blinkers so firmly on that he had overlooked his part in the whole matter as well.
It made him realise that in the end, there was nobody to blame. It was just that neither of them had the sense to tell the other, and instead had just hidden their true feelings beneath their friendship that had been strong enough to mask all the flaws.
“I’m sorry Mizuki. I am so so sorry,” Mao said, his anger falling away as his face crumpled.
Even though Mizuki wanted to continue being mad the vocalist, he found he couldn't. He could never be mad at Mao, especially not when he as being so earnest.
Besides, it wasn't entirely his fault either.
Instead, he just reached down beneath Mao’s seat to push his chair back, giving the older man a jolt. Before he could comprehending what was going on, Mao’s eyes just grew wider as Mizuki crawled on top of him, placing his knees on either side of the vocalist’s thighs.
Mao’s breath hitched as Mizuki leaned closer so that their foreheads were touching, the younger man keeping his eyes closed.
“It’s okay Mao, really. I think we both deserve the stupid prize in all of this don’t you think?” Mizuki said opening his eyes, letting Mao see that familiar mixture of boyish playfulness in his brown irises.
And it dawned on Mao that as frustrating and endearing Mizuki was in equal measure, he wouldn't have him any other way.
“I guess I understand what Kyo means now,” Mao thought wryly.
Reaching up, Mao gently ran his knuckle over Mizuki’s jaw before cupping his chin to pull him in for a kiss. Mizuki closed his eyes as a tremor ran through his body when their lips touched.
This was what a kiss should feel like, no exceptions.
But as a thought struck him, Mizuki pulled back his face carrying a hint of trepidation. Mao raised an eyebrow at the sudden break.
“Mi?”
“Hiroto kissed me yesterday Mao, since we are being honest,” Mizuki confessed as he chewed his bottom lip.
“But it meant nothing!” Mizuki added hurriedly when he saw a dark look flit across Mao’s face. “If anything, you should thank him. Because when he did, I finally realised who it was that I should have been kissing.”
When Mao didn’t say anything, Mizuki lightly punched him in the arm as his mouth curved into a pout.
“Say something Mao!”
But all Mizuki got in return was the wind knocked out of him as Mao suddenly kissed him again, hard, his hand possessively holding the sides of Mizuki’s face.
“Well you do realise that it will be the last time that someone else kisses you right? So I hope you enjoyed it, because nobody else should be kissing my boyfriend but me,” Mao growled against the taller man’s mouth.
Mizuki had to chuckle at his vocalist’s antics, but when the words filtered through, felt his heart stumble a little.
“Boyfriend huh? So we are really doing this?” Mizuki said running his thumb over Mao’s bottom lip.
Instead of replying, Mao simply kissed the thumb pad and bit gently on the digit just above the knuckle.
That unassuming gesture sparked a fire in the depths of Mizuki’s stomach. He harshly kissed the older man back, his desire spiking as he ran his hands down Mao’s chest until he reached his belt.
“I want you Mao,” Mizuki suddenly breathed as he fumbled with Mao’s belt, his fingers turning into cotton as he tugged at the loop with a curse.
“Hey, hey slow down Mi, you do realise where we are right?” Mao said as he tried to slow down the younger man’s actions. As Mao glanced out the window, he suddenly became aware of a couple of cars parked a few hundred meters away.
Not close enough to see into Mizuki’s car, but there was no assurance that they wouldn't walk over.
“I don't care Mao, I just want you to take me now, right here,” Mizuki groaned as Mao slapped his hands away. Not to be deterred, Mizuki pulled off the tank top he was wearing and threw it to the side, which was a welcome burst of relief for his skin.
With the air conditioning off, Mizuki suddenly registered the heat in the car, which was making sweat trickle down both their faces and down his shoulder blades.
“Look, it's fucking hot and we have nothing here! No condoms, no lube, how exactly are you expecting us to have sex!” Mao protested even as his cock grew hard at the sight of Mizuki all sweaty and flushed in front of him.
“Oh for goodness sake Mao, stop being such a prude! You know how long it’s been since we had sex?” Mizuki asked as he fumbled with his own jeans, his underwear beginning to stick uncomfortably to his balls.
Mao raised an eyebrow at him.
“A week Mizuki,” he answered flatly.
“Exactly, too fucking long. Now unless you take your cock out and do something with it, I might have to take up Hiroto on his offer,” Mizuki smirked as he pushed his underwear down his thighs as far as it could go.
Tracing the tip of his penis with his fingers, Mizuki arched his long torso against the dashboard, which
made his cock stand proudly at attention. If the words weren’t taunting enough, Mizuki’s display made any sense of propriety Mao may have had fly out the window.
“Like hell you will!” Mao growled as he grabbed Mizuki’s cock and gave it a hard squeeze, which made him squirm as his thighs trembled from the strain of holding himself upright. It became even harder when Mao started rubbing his own cock against the sensitive skin below Mizuki’s balls.
“Stop Mao,” Mizuki suddenly gasped. What Mao was doing was good, but it wasn't enough, it wasn't what he wanted. With great difficulty, Mizuki wriggled his way out of his jeans and threw them on the driver’s side chair.
He then dropped to his knees as much as the cramped space would allow and frantically started pulling
at Mao’s underwear to reveal more of his dick. Without preamble, Mizuki then proceeded to give Mao the wettest blowjob he could.
“Mi..zu..ki..” Mao drew out his lover’s name with a moan as the guitarist twisted and twirled his tongue, making sure to cover every inch of prick with spit, paying special attention to the balls at the tip.
It was a poor substitute for lube, but at this point Mizuki was actually past caring about being comfortable. He was hot as hell, their skin glistened with perspiration, sticking and rubbing together.
But all he wanted was Mao inside him.
Driven by that need, Mizuki abandoned Mao’s cock and pulled the seat incline handle so that the passenger chair was completely supine. Their minds finally on the same wavelength, Mao helped Mizuki crawl on top of him, his ass finally making contact with the vocalist’s cock, both sticky with sweat and saliva.
“You are such a pervert Mi,” Mao said as he started sucking on two of his fingers, making it was wet as he could possibly could even as the heat made his throat dry. Even as he did this, his other hand was just as busy jerking Mizuki off.
“Stop complaining Mao and fuck me with that massive cock of yours,” Mizuki said petulantly, but he softened his order with a teasing wink.
Mao had to chuckle at Mizuki’s over the top compliment. Yanking him down by a lock of hair, Mao licked and sucked at Mizuki’s throat until he felt the skin swell with blood.
“You do know that I am sure a thing right?” Mao whispered huskily, causing Mizuki to grin as he heard his own words parroted back to him. But he gasped when lifted himself slightly and he felt those wet fingers on his arsehole.
“I will make you come,” Mao said smokily, pressing those two fingers against the resistant muscle until he felt Mizuki’s body swallow the intrusion. Mizuki’s breathing became labored when he felt Mao reach his prostate, that he worked with strong downward strokes, making made his body tremble and shudder.
“Now Mao, I don’t care if the whole world watches us fucking. I need you, right now,” Mizuki breathed, his desire pushed to near breaking point. Especially when Mao sucked at his nipples, biting hard at the salty areolas.
At this point Mao was having a hard time containing his own lust. Pulling his fingers out, he aligned his cock with Mizuki’s back entrance and firmly pushed the head in.
Given the lack of lubrication, the slide in wasn’t as smooth as it normally was, which Mizuki tried to compensate by relaxing and shifting his weight backwards until his ass was flush against the vocalist’s balls.
“Fuck…Mao…this feels…” Mizuki tried to explain but all he could feel was the coldness of Mao’s cock piercing contrasting sharply with the blazing heat of his cock inside him.
Before Mizuki could catch his breath however, Mao grabbed his hips and thrust upwards. It made Mizuki arch his back and cry out, especially when Mao didn’t slow down his pace, persistently fucking him like a jackhammer.
It got to the point that Mizuki had to stretch his long arms out to brace himself against the sides of the car every time that Mao fucked him.
“I can take you bareback now Mi, you realise that,” Mao whispered dirtily as he started manipulating Mizuki’s testicles in his hands. But he found he couldn't speak when Mizuki just gave him a heated look, sweat trickling down every expanse of skin, plastering his caramel bangs to his forehead.
“Deeper Mao, I want you deeper,” was all Mizuki could say as he clenched his body around Mao’s cock, groaning deep in his chest as he met the resistance of the piercing rubbing the sensitive spots inside him.
In response, Mao bit down on Mizuki’s lip ring, making the flesh yield just enough to send painful pleasure sparks race down to his groin.
“Then get in the backseat Mi,” Mao ordered, panting even harder when Mizuki licked the sensitive spot just below his earlobe.
After pulling apart their bodies with a hiss, Mizuki lay on the seat behind the driver’s side and unabashedly spread his legs while fondling his own cock. The challenging look in his eyes as he held on to the rear seatbelt was a lust kick Mao had never experienced before.
He didn’t even bother taking off his pants before parting Mizuki’s asscheeks and ramming his cock home, which made both of them cry out, their sounds of pleasure ringing in their ears given the small
space of the car.
Mao only paused a fraction before he let go between Mizuki’s thighs, all his earlier restraint melting away as he screwed his lover so hard that the taller man felt his head bump against the headrest.
Not that Mizuki cared either, moaning encouragement to Mao to not stop fucking him as his orgasm came within tangible reach. With one hand he held on to Mao’s shoulder as he tried his hardest to keep his legs apart, and felt even more sweat trickle over his clenched fingers.
Mizuki only faintly registered the car rocking beneath Mao’s powerful thrusts, as he pounded into him harder and harder all the while frantically kissing him on the mouth.
“Coming…Mao,” Mizuki moaned brokenly as his cock twitched, spilling his seed all over the lower half of his body. But his orgasm didn't stop as a particularly hard thrust from Mao caused another spurt of semen from the tip of his cock.
Mao groaned deep in his throat at his own climax gripped him, punctuating each quiver of his body with push of his hips. There was just something so erotic about feeling the heat of his own spunk around his shaft that it made his elbows give out.
“Mi….”
But thankfully Mizuki was there to catch him before he could crash particularly hard against his chest. Having come first, the intensity of his feelings was less, so he could just reassuringly stroke Mao’s sweat soaked hair as he let him catch his breath.
Now that, was fantastic sex Mao thought to himself with a half smile. In your face Kei, the vocalist added that mental taunt with a grin on his face.
“And I thought I was the one who was half off his rocker, what the fuck are you smiling about baby?” Mizuki asked, as he lovingly wiped the sweat from Mao’s face.
Mao shook his head, he would tell Mizuki about it another day.
“Nothing Mi,” Mao said gently as he kissed his lover’s bruised lips as he tried to sooth the thin skin with his tongue.
“Nothing at all.”
Mizuki grinned back as he wrapped his hands around Mao’s waist so he could kiss his nose. But when he suddenly stiffened, Mao looked up in surprise.
“Mizuki?”
“Mao…don’t look now, but I think there is someone coming towards the car,” Mizuki said, panic snapping the heels of his words like a rubber band.
“Really? Who is it?” Mao asked confused, but his eyes widened with understanding when Mizuki shot him a look that told him he was clearly stupid.
“Fuckity fuck!” Mao suddenly cried as he hurriedly tried to do up his pants. They frantically worked to untangle themselves, as Mizuki tried to get back into the driver’s seat.
“Where the fuck are my pants Mao?!” Mizuki asked as he scrambled into his seat. Now it was Mao’s turn to shoot Mizuki the look he had earlier.
“Who cares Mizuki! Just drive! Unless you want to explain to management why we are naked in your car in public!” Mao said as he hurriedly threw a shirt at Mizuki.
Mizuki pulled it on with one hand as he started the car with the other. Just before the person could catch sight of what was in the gar, he threw the handbrake and floored the gas.
Mao just caught a disapproving look on the stranger’s face as they raced by as Mizuki pulled onto the highway. Once the rest stop was a safe couple of kilometers behind them, the two of them just looked at each other and burst into laughter.
“That…was close,” Mizuki said, theatrically wiping the sweat from his brow. Mao chortled as he adjusted the air conditioning to dry his hair as he wiped off the earlier traces of their lovemaking with his t-shirt, laughing even harder when he realised that Mizuki was driving naked from the waist down.
“It was fun though,” Mao said as he had to forgo putting on his shirt in lieu of giving Mizuki some decency as he draped it over his lover’s thighs. Mizuki gave Mao a grateful look.
“Well, there is another rest stop 50 kilometers away. Feel like another round?” Mizuki said cheekily patting Mao’s crotch. Mao just shot the guitarist a withering glance.
“No Mizuki,” Mao said firmly, causing the younger man to pout.
“Great, I’m stuck with a boring boyfriend with no imagination or sense of adventure,” Mizuki said in a mock huff. But Mao didn't hear him really as he saw Mizuki place his hand on top of the gear to shift it.
Mao hesitantly put his hand on top of Mizuki’s, interlacing their fingers and giving it a light squeeze. But he breathed easier when he felt Mizuki give a squeeze back.
***
“Thank you very much, please come again!”
Mao nodded at the cheery checkout girl as he pocketed his change and a pack of cigarettes. The truth was, he already had a pretty full pack already on him but, he was once again in a situation where he needed change.
“Bloody Sod’s law,” Mao sighed as he walked towards the nearest phonebooth. The irony was that he was actually going to the phone shop this afternoon after Mizuki threatened to give him no more blowjobs if he didn't fix his fucking phone.
But as always with electronic gadgets, they seemed to know when they were being replaced and thus refused to work at the most inopportune time. Like when Mao had to tell Mizuki to pick him up from a different street than what they had agreed on.
Slipping the coins into the phone, Mao dialed Mizuki’s number and offhandedly counted the number of rings before it went to voice message.
However, unlike last time, Mao didn’t feel himself getting upset or annoyed as he dialed again. He reasoned that Mizuki probably had his hands full at the moment or was driving.
Thinking back, Mao felt a little silly at how he acted, how he let his fear control him back then. In the end, there was nothing quite like the assurance that there would always be somebody there to pick up his call.
Even if it wasn't on the first ring.
“Hello?”
***
The End
***