When the Clock Strikes (12)
When the Clock Strikes (12)
Uruha/Kai (past Aoi/Kai) Aoi/OFC
PG-13 (some curse words and mild allusions to sex)
1,034 words
Note: the GazettE already parted ways in this one-shot (the universe forbids). Just a warning for those strange enough to be offended by fiction.
Uruha sees it first on the nightly entertainment news, as he lies sprawled out on the hardwood floor hoping to ease the discomfort in his lower back. Craning his neck, he catches a glimpse of Aoi with a traditionally beautiful girl at his side; their fingers intertwine as she laughs timidly against his shoulders. Aoi bends down, placing a kiss on her left cheek before standing at his full height and facing the cluster of reporters and curious onlookers. Cameras flash in anticipation as journalists bellow over one another; multiple questions become a string of incoherency.
He quickens his pace to the balcony after recognizing the elaborate carvings bordering the doorway to the grand opera house across the street; his flat screen no longer holding his interest. Why waste time when he can scope the live show for free?
The pair bows and Uruha takes out a Marlboro stick, lighting up and taking a long drag before leaning forward on the railings. He ignores his body’s cry for warmth, hoping the heat from his apartment will somewhat slip through the opened sliding door. The boisterous chattering dies down and Uruha realizes the man in front of him hasn’t changed.
Aoi still bears the authoritative air after all.
Smirking with the cigarette between his pink lips, he waits patiently.
“Thank you everyone for gathering with us today.” Aoi's voice carries lightly across the street, glancing back and forth from the reporters to his pretty arm candy.
Uruha itches to sprint down five flights of stairs just to punch the smile off his face.
“This announcement may come as a surprise, but we want to share this joyous occasion with each and every one of you.” He lifts their interlaced hands and kisses hers gently.
She’s glimmering . She fucking glimmers under Aoi’s loving attention, and Uruha tries desperately to remember if Kai ever shined so brilliantly when Aoi kissed him in the past.
“We are proud to inform you of our official en-“
And Reita beats him to the punch every fucking time.
Uruha runs inside to his beeping mobile, the screen blinking with an incoming message from his best friend.
Aoi’s engaged.
****
It takes approximately ten minutes until Uruha arrives at Kai's door, bursting through with a spare key before haphazardly kicking off his shoes. He finds the younger man sitting quietly on the window seat, mindlessly playing with the hem of his shirt. Kai looks up with a cracked grin; frown lines that never quite complete the upturn.
Uruha sees the pack of smokes with one stick on top that was clearly lit before.
“It was only one puff.” Kai’s voice comes out as broken as his smile.
“I know,” Uruha answers carefully before unceremoniously dropping down with a huff next to Kai. But why?
“I just wanted to see if it was-“
“It’s still disgusting. Don’t do it anymore.” Uruha takes the cigarettes and made a show of shoving it into his pants pocket, silently thanking his ex-bandmate for buying the hard pack.
Kai raises his eyebrows in question.
“I’m beyond the point of being saved now, Kai-chan. You know that.” He thinks about it a little harder of why he’s never able to kick the habit. “And I’m not a thief,” he added quickly before patting his pocket and beaming in gratitude.
“I like it when you smile,” the younger whispers.
And Uruha's heart is taken by surprise while his mind decides to take the opposite route.
“Better than Aoi’s?” He blurts out suddenly and grasps the situation too late as his brain makes its way to the door and his heart stay to cushion the blow. It plays out in slow motion as he shrinks away further into the pillows. And he waits for it. Everyone knows Kai packs quite a punch when riled up.
But nothing happens.
Kai bites his lips fighting the sobs that threaten to spill forth and Uruha decides that Kai cannot win on his own in any circumstances.
So he helps him as any good friend will do by pulling him into his lap in tip top speed, hands tightly wrapping around the small waist and his needy lips press against plush ones. Uruha swallows Kai’s cries, not allowing one whimper to escape.
Because that is how much he loves Kai.
****
Three months and two weeks later, Uruha finds the invitation in his mailbox forwarded from his previous address. He takes a quick read before tossing it into the trashcan. His phone rings on the way to the bathroom.
“I need to shower, call me later Reita.”
“Are you going?”
“No. Are you?”
“I was thinking about it.” Reita chuckles on the other line.
“Are you being serious right now?” Uruha rubs his temple, willing away the oncoming headache.
“Yeah. You know I have that new suit that’s waiting to be properly shown off. Free food, good music. Why shouldn’t we go?”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Uruha chides and Reita doesn’t answer.
“Rei.”
“…”
“Aki,” Uruha breathes into the phone.
“Yeah?”
“It’s not that I don’t want-“
“I miss them.”
Uruha slides down against the wall next to the bathroom door listening to his best friend quietly weep.
****
Naturally, Uruha makes certain that Kai gets the last laugh on Aoi’s wedding day. He cooks for the both of them, the famous packaged ramen chocked full of sodium boiling in the electric pot in the middle of his table as Kai dribbles the broth everywhere.
Movie is a quiet affair and Uruha commends himself for renting a horror flick. Forty minutes into the film, he finds a shivering Kai on his lap peaking out once in a while before burying his face back into the shelter of his neck.
It’s inevitable and Uruha knows as he stares at Kai trembling deliciously under him on his bed. Kai has always been his to love; always the two right people at the wrong fucking time.
But he understands now. The moment Kai cries out his name simultaneously as he bites Kai’s shoulders in his own climax, somewhere out there, someone has tipped the hourglass and the right time has finally caught up.
Uruha/Kai (past Aoi/Kai) Aoi/OFC
PG-13 (some curse words and mild allusions to sex)
1,034 words
Note: the GazettE already parted ways in this one-shot (the universe forbids). Just a warning for those strange enough to be offended by fiction.
Uruha sees it first on the nightly entertainment news, as he lies sprawled out on the hardwood floor hoping to ease the discomfort in his lower back. Craning his neck, he catches a glimpse of Aoi with a traditionally beautiful girl at his side; their fingers intertwine as she laughs timidly against his shoulders. Aoi bends down, placing a kiss on her left cheek before standing at his full height and facing the cluster of reporters and curious onlookers. Cameras flash in anticipation as journalists bellow over one another; multiple questions become a string of incoherency.
He quickens his pace to the balcony after recognizing the elaborate carvings bordering the doorway to the grand opera house across the street; his flat screen no longer holding his interest. Why waste time when he can scope the live show for free?
The pair bows and Uruha takes out a Marlboro stick, lighting up and taking a long drag before leaning forward on the railings. He ignores his body’s cry for warmth, hoping the heat from his apartment will somewhat slip through the opened sliding door. The boisterous chattering dies down and Uruha realizes the man in front of him hasn’t changed.
Aoi still bears the authoritative air after all.
Smirking with the cigarette between his pink lips, he waits patiently.
“Thank you everyone for gathering with us today.” Aoi's voice carries lightly across the street, glancing back and forth from the reporters to his pretty arm candy.
Uruha itches to sprint down five flights of stairs just to punch the smile off his face.
“This announcement may come as a surprise, but we want to share this joyous occasion with each and every one of you.” He lifts their interlaced hands and kisses hers gently.
She’s glimmering . She fucking glimmers under Aoi’s loving attention, and Uruha tries desperately to remember if Kai ever shined so brilliantly when Aoi kissed him in the past.
“We are proud to inform you of our official en-“
And Reita beats him to the punch every fucking time.
Uruha runs inside to his beeping mobile, the screen blinking with an incoming message from his best friend.
Aoi’s engaged.
****
It takes approximately ten minutes until Uruha arrives at Kai's door, bursting through with a spare key before haphazardly kicking off his shoes. He finds the younger man sitting quietly on the window seat, mindlessly playing with the hem of his shirt. Kai looks up with a cracked grin; frown lines that never quite complete the upturn.
Uruha sees the pack of smokes with one stick on top that was clearly lit before.
“It was only one puff.” Kai’s voice comes out as broken as his smile.
“I know,” Uruha answers carefully before unceremoniously dropping down with a huff next to Kai. But why?
“I just wanted to see if it was-“
“It’s still disgusting. Don’t do it anymore.” Uruha takes the cigarettes and made a show of shoving it into his pants pocket, silently thanking his ex-bandmate for buying the hard pack.
Kai raises his eyebrows in question.
“I’m beyond the point of being saved now, Kai-chan. You know that.” He thinks about it a little harder of why he’s never able to kick the habit. “And I’m not a thief,” he added quickly before patting his pocket and beaming in gratitude.
“I like it when you smile,” the younger whispers.
And Uruha's heart is taken by surprise while his mind decides to take the opposite route.
“Better than Aoi’s?” He blurts out suddenly and grasps the situation too late as his brain makes its way to the door and his heart stay to cushion the blow. It plays out in slow motion as he shrinks away further into the pillows. And he waits for it. Everyone knows Kai packs quite a punch when riled up.
But nothing happens.
Kai bites his lips fighting the sobs that threaten to spill forth and Uruha decides that Kai cannot win on his own in any circumstances.
So he helps him as any good friend will do by pulling him into his lap in tip top speed, hands tightly wrapping around the small waist and his needy lips press against plush ones. Uruha swallows Kai’s cries, not allowing one whimper to escape.
Because that is how much he loves Kai.
****
Three months and two weeks later, Uruha finds the invitation in his mailbox forwarded from his previous address. He takes a quick read before tossing it into the trashcan. His phone rings on the way to the bathroom.
“I need to shower, call me later Reita.”
“Are you going?”
“No. Are you?”
“I was thinking about it.” Reita chuckles on the other line.
“Are you being serious right now?” Uruha rubs his temple, willing away the oncoming headache.
“Yeah. You know I have that new suit that’s waiting to be properly shown off. Free food, good music. Why shouldn’t we go?”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Uruha chides and Reita doesn’t answer.
“Rei.”
“…”
“Aki,” Uruha breathes into the phone.
“Yeah?”
“It’s not that I don’t want-“
“I miss them.”
Uruha slides down against the wall next to the bathroom door listening to his best friend quietly weep.
****
Naturally, Uruha makes certain that Kai gets the last laugh on Aoi’s wedding day. He cooks for the both of them, the famous packaged ramen chocked full of sodium boiling in the electric pot in the middle of his table as Kai dribbles the broth everywhere.
Movie is a quiet affair and Uruha commends himself for renting a horror flick. Forty minutes into the film, he finds a shivering Kai on his lap peaking out once in a while before burying his face back into the shelter of his neck.
It’s inevitable and Uruha knows as he stares at Kai trembling deliciously under him on his bed. Kai has always been his to love; always the two right people at the wrong fucking time.
But he understands now. The moment Kai cries out his name simultaneously as he bites Kai’s shoulders in his own climax, somewhere out there, someone has tipped the hourglass and the right time has finally caught up.