Let it never be said... // Chapter 2
Let it never be said that romance is dead.
(Or If You Are Gay And You Know It Tell A Friend)
Chapter 2
(Back to Chapter: 1)
The room about him was dark, with shadows creeping along every wall and crevice, both shying from and holding their own against the dim glow of the window. Though night had fallen and outside the sky was a large black nothing with a grey haze, the lights of the city made their presence more than known; they seeped through the corners of the thick curtains that covered most of the window to his left, and battled against the thin white shade beneath.
Reita laid motionlessly, fatigue seated deeply in every cell of his body. He had surprised himself with how tired he was, collapsing upon the only slightly unfolded covers and being no longer able to move his muscles other than tilt his head and gaze listlessly at the streak of light, thin and sharp, that crept across his bare abdomen and the white of the sheets beneath him, cutting the darkness almost regretfully in it's wake.
His body did not move, but his mind wandered free of physical weariness.
That strut, that smirk, that cocky glare-- all made familiar by years of close friendship and an extensive number of showy displays on stage. All turned upon him in a matter of seconds.
To say it was unnerving was something of an understatement; indeed, the situation had greatly uprooted many things he took for granted about his good friend and left him with many doubts and a churning stomach. Although, the latter could have very plausibly just been the result of his earlier alcohol intake.
He really didn't want to think about it, what he had gotten himself into out there on the street with Takanori, but he could do nothing to stop.
Still under the wine's effect or not, that gaze was not something he was going to forget in the morning. If he ever got to sleep.
Without wanting to, his mind was going through it all again.
"Bet you'd really fancy fucking me."
"Taka...I mean, I love you, but I don't wanna fuck you."
Instead of just laughing as the bassist expected him to, a devilish smirk began to turn up the corners of the younger man's mouth; a mouth that scared Reita for many reasons at the moment because he honestly had no idea what would come flying out of it next. "Oh really..." Ruki cooed, beginning to circle his longtime friend in an almost predatory manner.
Well I guess that.
Reita adjusted the collar of his jacket and stood a bit taller, something he knew the vocalist resented. "Yeah, really." He replied, his tone matching that of Ruki's before.
Ruki stopped in front of the bassist once more, his eyes traveling up from the ground from Reita's feet all the way up to the narrowed eyes that seemed to almost glare at him. Whether he was sizing him up man-to-man or checking him out, the blond wasn't sure anymore. Ruki had been full of surprises tonight and he honestly didn't know how much more he could take.
"Care to make a wager, Aki?”
Reita stood motionlessly, not sure if he should look away from the very assertive, intimidating eye-contact the younger man had initiated, or if that would make him seem week. He was saved by the sound of the other man's flat boots making a slight scuffing noise against the sidewalk as he shifted his weight. He used the moment to look out along the street; they were by no means alone out there on the sidewalk, but no one paid them any mind.
"A wager..." He repeated the words to himself skeptically, debating his options, which disappeared very quickly when he met the vocalist's challenging gaze, again, "...Alright then."
Before the words had even left his lips, he knew he was getting himself into something a little more risky than any of their usual games. The gleam in those brown eyes before him spoke of volumes more.
Ruki began, "So you think you don't want me?" He paused again, cocky smirk tilting his lips to the side, and his eyes hooded in the darkness of their expression, "But you're going to find out just how much you do."
Reita didn't move his gaze for a minute, almost trying to depict a joking gleam from the other man's eyes, "You're fucking with me."
"Am I?" He tilted his head in staged innocence.
The bassist snorted, "And how do you suppose you're going to do that? Because if I'm going to have to sit around and wait for you to make me want you, I don't think we have all the time that that's going to necessitate."
"Oh, trust me, Rei. There will be no waiting." Ruki's tone deadpanned.
And then he was walking again, stretching his arms out at his sides and yawning into the cool, grey night.
Reita stared after his friend; his competitive side kicking in. "Oi, Ruki."
The vocalist didn't turn, just continued walking; his shoes making a steady tap-tap along the sidewalk. "Hmm?"
"It's never going to work. This bet I mean."
This time Ruki stopped but he still didn't turn around. "Oh? And why is that?"
The bassist shrugged and hooked his thumbs in the loops on the front of his jeans. "Well, for starters I can never see myself being attracted to a guy. Plus..." And with this a grin, spreading from one side of his face to the other. "I barely ever lose any of our wagers."
For a moment there was silence, swirling around the two men; revealing nothing and hiding everything. When he finally turned, he turned slowly and deliberately; his eyes moving almost seductively to meet those of his longtime friend. His mouth was grinning almost as seductively as his eyes were. When Ruki spoke, Reita wasn't sure if the younger man was really speaking; the words gliding over his skin like elegant fingers, making him shiver almost in response.
"Oh trust me Rei..." subconsciously running his tongue over his full bottom lip, "...you're gonna lose this one."
Reita slammed both fists into the mattress. He was done thinking about possibly gay Ruki and gay Ruki tongue. Just what was going on anyway?
Looking over at the clock, the bassist groaned as it glared a bright red 4:38 at him. "Shit. Tomorrow's going to suck."
Reita spit and rinsed his mouth out into the sink beneath him, groaning slightly at the dull, pounding pain at the back of his head, creeping down his neck and making him stiff and uncomfortable as he leaned over. When he finally raised his head again to squint at his own reflection in the mirror above him, the dull groan grew even louder. He looked like shit.
His bag, the one, was packed and sat prepared and ready on the bed, and he made sluggish, lazy work of pulling on his few silver accessories left lying on the nightstand from the night-- or just the few hours-- before. The clock before him showed 6:44 in blocked, red numbers.
He left the bag, as requested when they arrived, for someone to pick up later where it was, and stepped out of the room, locking the old-fashioned lock of the door before turning to walk the single-number of steps to the elevator and froze at the figure that already stood there, a black beanie pulled back over limp red hair, snug, long-sleeved black shirt and fitted jeans hugging a short, petite stature. And the large black sunglasses that hid tired brown eyes.
They seem to meet gazes at the same moment.
Reita bit the inside of his cheek and muttered quietly, "...Awkward."
The other manmade no comment or greeting, merely stood, staring for a long while, making the bassist wonder at whether or not he was staring or just sleeping in his direction with his eyes open.
Ding!
Ruki almost jumped as the sound of the elevator approaching them somewhat jolted him out of his sleepy stupor. He stepped inside wordlessly, the bassist following just as silently behind him.
Once inside, neither men spoke for a while; both probably wondering exactly why they'd drank so much and fully regretting the pounding headache and constant nausea they were both feeling.
"So..." Reita began, "...you hung over, too?"
"Uggh." The younger man grunted and lifted his large sunglasses, his eyes glaring at his longtime friend as if to say, Are you fucking kidding me?
Ruki let his Dior frames drop back down onto his nose; covering the rather prominent dark circles under his eyes and turning his gaze back to the door.
The blond sighed again, jamming his hands into his pockets and shifting from foot to foot. "....Awkward."
Silence.
"But seriously Taka, what the hell did you mean by that? I mean, like what's going on? I mean like...you gay or what? I mean, I'm---"
"Suzuki, you are not seriously still on this are you? Come on."
Reita looked at him as incredulously as he could manage with a hangover and after only a few hours of sleep, "Well, considering what we discussed yesterday... Yea, I am."
"Oh." Ruki just stared at him for another moment and faced the door again.
After a polite delay, "So, are you?"
"Tired and trying to ignore you? Yes."
The first floor restaurant of the hotel was very quiet that morning, a few people scattered about far between one another. A couple was sharing a quiet cup of coffee in the warm morning light that shined through the window. A man sat alone at a table near the centre of the small area with his newspaper unfolded and a pair of glasses resting beside his cup of coffee. Some children munched their Müsli with sleepy faces as their parents look anxiously over a map. Against a wall at a small table secluded by one very nicely groomed fichus, sat two tall, beautifully exotic men.
"--And she was leading us back into this room, and I didn't even really know where we were going. So, Kai-kun and the guy were still talking and ended up getting way behind us in the crowd. So, we turn this corner and, get this--" He tapped the ash from his cigarette into the small crystal tray between them, and raised it again to point at Aoi before taking a drink from the mug of overly-sweetened coffee as he did this. He put it down again; the thunk it made as he set it down upon the table reverberated through Aoi's aching head for several moments after the motion was through.
"I didn't get two strides past the bouncer before she takes me by complete surprise, grabs my jacket collar, and before I even get to see where we are, there I am. Slammed up against the wall, and she was strong. Her arms were all over me, Aoi. It was so fucking hot... What?"
Aoi stared dully at the blond figure before him, making no real movement other than to blink. After a few moments he took a sip of his coffee, eyes never leaving the man before them. He set it down again and continued to stare lifelessly. "You can continue."
Uruha quirked a thin, finely arched brown at the dark-haired guitarist, "I was just saying--"
"About how incredibly fantastic you are and how, lucky you, you got some last night, and unlucky me, I did not." The older man served with a deadpan voice, and raised his mug again in a mocking salute, "Please continue."
The blond sighed, "Ok, Aoi, I'm not Freud. What kind of emotional quandary is it that you are trying to illustrate to me by over-emphasizing your blatantly obvious and yet very unfortunate sexual frustration to me?"
"I fucking love you." The dark-haired mumbled gruffly, the words muffled and indistinguishable.
"What was that?"
Aoi coughed into his coffee and muttered darkly, "I said, 'You suck, fuck you.'"
Uruha frowned and raised an eyebrow, "We're really going to have to work out these repressive tendencies of yours."
Suddenly the chair beside Aoi was pulled back and Kai leaned over, setting down a plate piled high with cinnamon-coated toast and eggs. Beside it he had placed a glass of think, pulpy orange juice.
The two guitarists stared somewhat greenly at the meal before turning away almost simultaneously and regretting their previous evenings drinking.
Kai sat down, smiling pleasantly and picking up his fork. "Itadakimasu!" After a few bites, he glanced up at the two guitarists curiously, "How did the evening go?"
"Fine." The two muttered simultaneously.
"Any of you seen Ruki or Reita yet this morning?" A mouthful of toast.
At that moment, two new figures entered the restaurant area-- a usually unremarkable event, except that as they entered a single loudly spoken "GAY" was the only distinguishable piece of their dialogue.
All eyes in the room turned upon the two of them, and the shorter of the two assumably rolled his eyes, despite the black lenses that prohibited anyone from really seeing such a reaction.
Aoi snorted and returned to his coffee.
Ten minutes later, after both vocalist and bassist had somewhat perked up with a cup of coffee--or four in Ruki's case--all five men had managed to settle into pleasant morning conversation; talking about the upcoming live, their impressions of Paris, basically anything they could manage to discuss with the least mental effort so early in the morning.
"So..." Aoi raised an eyebrow; simultaneously raising the coffee mug to his lips, black spiral spreading further out as his mouth broke into that wide all-knowing grin. "What did you guys do last night?"
The bassist leaned back into his chair, resting his arm along the back as he set his coffee cup down and glanced back at Aoi. "What do you think we did last night?"
Before the dark-haired guitarist could respond, another voice--one that had been mostly silent for most of their morning conversation--spoke up first.
"We fucked. Long and hard. I need coffee." And then the vocalist was up and out of his chair, already across the room before shock fully registered on Reita's face; his mouth forming a large O as he incredulously stared after the redhead walking away from him.
Shrugging his shoulders and popping his collar as if trying to dismiss the situation, the blond turned back to his band mates, crooking his thumb in the direction that the vocalist had walked off in. "You guys do you think...I mean, this may sound a little crazy but...do you think Ruki's...gay?"
"Well apparently, you are since he stuck it up your ass last night." Aoi snorted.
Uruha paused; his coffee cup only halfway to his lips; his eyes grew clouded as he gazed out the window looking at nothing in particular. He stared pensively for a long while, then softly as if he weren't even speaking at all, "I shared a bed with him in high school."
And then he took a sip of his coffee.
After a cup or two more of coffee, several anxious roadies entered the restaurant to hurry the band out to the live house, in which their full-day sound check and rehearsal proceeded. There were amps and mics to check, lighting plans still uncompleted from their brief time in Paris, and last minute changes in performance to be choreographed. Enough to keep them at least moderately distracted as the morning progressed through the drowsy, hung-over blur into the more concentrated, serious practice it was meant to be. Mostly, anyway.
The morning had been going without any real interruption to the productive mood that came upon them at rehearsal, owing disturbances only on two occasions. One in which Uruha, inattentive to where he was walking while listening to the instructions of a crew member, very narrowly escaped death by falling microphone stand, which prompted much teasing for the hour or so afterwards.
The second disturbance, though probably not as notable to any one but Reita, occurred when Ruki, still very tired from the night before, shamelessly draped himself stomach-down across one of the smaller amps. The moment might have been dismissible even to Reita, had he not caught Aoi's wily, teasing smile as the man turned to give him an unmistakably snarky look.
"Was it like that last night, or were you a little more adventurous?"
"Fuck you. That didn't happen."
"Unfortunate."
"Not unfortunate."
"Mrow." The older man, in all his manly charm and maturity clawed at the air like a cat.
Reita died a little inside and kicked him on the back of his calf when the other man turned to walk back to the front of the stage.
Finally, after a long, tiring, busy morning, there was a release for a shortly timed lunch break. The band and several roadies and crew members set out into the cool, Parisian afternoon on the most primitive of hunts: food. The break only allotted for a little less than an hour, but as easily distracted as ever, each of the band members soon found themselves wondering from the small café and into the shops that stretched out along the street.
Uruha, distracted by something in a nearby window, had pulled separate of the group to further investigate-- the catalyst that inevitably split almost the entire group up to wonder dispersed and disorderly upon the street, which was in turn the cause for many time-concerned event managers and crew members to begin pulling out their hair. Everyone had parted, and before he knew it, Reita found himself wondering back down the street (in the direction of the venue at least) and even entering a shop to avoid waiting about awkwardly on the footpath.
The bell of the door jingled slightly at his entrance, but the woman behind the register was busying herself with a customer and ignored him. It was almost odd, the lack of greeting upon entrance he was always so accustomed to in Japan, but he didn't dwell on it. He took a once over glance at the small, crowded shop and slowly started down the side of the shop to his left, between a wall of accessory-lined shelves, rats of interesting hats, and one of several clothing racks too large for the actual size of the store.
He sifted through slowly and quietly, eyes observing but fingers remaining buried within his pockets. They twitched restlessly, rubbing at the denim that lined the inside of his jeans pockets and he began to consider at returning outside for a cigarette. For the moment, however, still vaguely delaying the thought out of laziness, he continued on to the back wall, finding interest with a small but rather nice selection of leather jackets and vintage-printed T-shirts, but he even continued on past them without too much consideration.
What finally drew him from his nagging craving for nicotine was the large selection of metal accessories beyond a rack of coats with varying designs of decades gone by. Imitation silver rings and bracelets, earrings and necklaces, belts and wallet chains. At first he glanced rather dismissively through some large, heavy rings-- none quite so nice as what he already had at home-- and ran his gaze over a selection of wristbands, pawing through them until one caught his eye, at which time he lifted it to look a little closer. One such piece he found was a metal necklace, thick and knotted into chinks like barbed wire with an imitation tarnished iron cross. When he lifted it from the stand atop the glass case, it even had a comfortable, if not pleasant, weight in his hands. He started at it for a moment, rolling the barbed metal back and forth between his calloused fingers, and again he debated that cigarette.
Lost in his own thoughts, he was surprised by slender, ring-adorned fingers that seemed to reach from nowhere to lift the necklace almost effortlessly from his own hands. Reita recognised the chipped, black nail polish immediately.
"What's all this then?" The very badly spoken English, though the speaker remained invisible behind him and the cramped aisle left no room for turning, eliminated any doubt of who stood behind him at that moment.
Reita rolled his eyes, "Are we heading back yet?"
"I've just caught you red-handed, aren't you going to justify what you were just doing?" The vocalist prodded glancing slightly around him at the wall covered in accessories.
"You mean shopping?"
"Ha! Clever lies. Just as I thought, you dirty thief." He reached forward as if to take one of the bassist's thin wrists, "You can tell it to the boys downtown."
Reita snorted at Ruki's horrible cop-imitation, shaking away the hand that came to point at his neck like a gun, still holding the necklace, and made to side step the shorter man and lead the way out of the shop.
He was, however, halted in his steps by a rather firm grip at his left hip, pulling him back into place somewhat surprisingly.
"Taka, we're going to be late--"
"Don't get your panties in a bunch," A glance back at the redhead showed he was looking at the piece of metalwork in his hand, eyes pausing on the iron cross-- very much like his own designs, "I like this. You should try it on."
"I don't want to--"
"Let me." It wasn't a request.
They were both silent, then. The hand on his hip had lifted to help the other to lace the necklace around Reita's neck. The finger tips there brushed purposefully at the taller man's skin, fastening the clasp and smoothing it against his collarbone.
Reita was more than a bit rigid by the time the vocalist had finished, fingers lingering on the clasp at the back. His eyes flickered up to a small sliver of mirror partitioned between a shelf of sunglasses and more necklaces. He didn't look at the necklace, however, brown eyes looking back to find the predatory gleam that watched him from behind, "You're not going to win, you know. Fucking around like this won't help you."
No sooner had the words left his lips before he felt a sharp jerk from the back of the chain that now encircled the base of his neck, the barbed metal digging almost painfully into his skin, drawing his gaze away from the mirror and towards his own hands that came up to pull at the offending necklace.
"That's cute."
Ruki must have stepped closer, closing what space separated his front from Reita's back, for when he leaned forward over Reita's shoulder, Reita could more than sense the other man's presence behind him, he could feel the other man's body. The feeling of Ruki's breath brushing across the juncture of his jaw beneath his ear was more than enough to make an uncomfortable heat run down the bassist's spine. He almost jerked away, but bit his tongue slightly, reminding himself that he couldn't back out of their wager; his pride would never allow for that.
As though considering Reita's unspoken thoughts as he thought them, the vocalist spoke, voice low, lips brushing for a single moment against the bassist’s ear, "But I'm not just fucking with you anymore."
Reita looked back into the mirror, meeting the other man's eyes.
"I really hate to interrupt, but if you guys decide to stop fucking sometime today, the rest of us will be doing some preparations for a very intimate, quaint little-- how do you say..." Aoi now stood at the end of the aisle facing them, "MASSIVE concert. Yeah. That's it." He nodded, smile sarcastic.
Reita groaned slightly at the older man's ill humour, and began to pull himself away just as the vocalist gave him a helping push down the aisle.
"Yea, Rei. I don't have time to mess around with you all day, you know." He reached up, pushing the black glasses back down onto the bridge of his nose. With the other hand, he tossed the necklace, somehow unfastened from his neck again, carelessly back upon the shelf.
To Be Continued...