Silently Aoi watched people as they go around and about, the corners of his eyes discreetly spying and everyday learning more about the ones they come across. From here he caught things – small things that seemed oh so trivial but quite the contrary, and it made him a little bit perceptive than most people (though not putting that in practice due to his natural reclusiveness). It was always a joy watching people in silence, seeing them in a completely different light from how they are seen when directly looked at on; similar to when you shut your eyes tight after staring off somewhere for a long time and splashes of colors dance before your eyes, but gone the next second.

Uruha’s has always been the most vibrant color, and Aoi couldn’t help but look longer, straining his eyes before the color is gone again.

But whenever their eyes meet (the color was strongest in Uruha’s eyes) Aoi would always look away, not because he was ashamed of getting caught, but because he was afraid that whatever he sees at that moment will be gone if he was caught.

Aoi’s gaze never stayed long enough to see that the sparkle never left Uruha’s eyes.

Especially when he knew that Aoi was looking.






“Stop looking at me.”

“I would if you start looking directly at me instead of just stealing glances.”

Uruha’s eyes pinned Aoi against the wall, but it’s not as if he’s complaining about being captive of Uruha’s gentle stare.

He doesn’t mind being captive of Uruha’s gentle lips, either.

Ruki stared at his new king-sized bed and smiled; to him, it always looked too big for two people but just enough for three (with a slight cramming together, but that didn’t really matter). It wasn’t very fancy; it just had a nice, clean-looking metallic headboard and a pale yellow scheme, complete with fluffy pillows and a fluffy comforter.

He walked over to the bed and sat down on it, his grin widening as he bounced slightly on the mattress. His skin tingled at the feeling of plush cotton under his fingers, and as his hand continued to glide over the soft surface, the more he heard the bed calling to him.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try it out first.

--

The comforter was warm but not if it’s not wrapped around your body – that was Ruki’s first thought as he stirred awake. He rolled on his stomach and grunted.

His eyes hadn’t adjusted to the light all that well but he immediately tried looking for the control of the air conditioning unit. Ruki stretched out a hand to retrieve the remote beside the clock. The time read 01:29.

With an unconscious pout, Ruki snatched the remote from the bedside table and raised the temperature, then spread out his arms and legs over the bed.

This baby’s gonna be just his tonight, then.

--

For the second time since he drifted to sleep, Ruki stirred awake again, this time because of the rising heat. He tried maneuvering his body but felt a heaviness over his waist. He grunted again.

“Oh.”

Full lips greeted Ruki’s eyes – those he was sure belonged to Aoi. It was probably Uruha’s breath warming his nape, then. Looking down, he saw two arms over his waist and one long leg over his thigh. Ruki sighed, then smiled.

He doesn’t really mind the warmth anyway.

Aoi’s black bed was littered with various score sheets and crumpled paper, and Ruki’s form occupied whatever space was left (which wasn’t much) with his face practically buried on his laptop’s screen. Aoi was the same, except he was sitting down on the floor and using the bed as a table for his machine. Despite Ruki’s obsessive-compulsiveness and Aoi’s strictness when it comes to his things, the two of them looked no more than like disorganized students cramming for their project. Except of course, this was for work.

(If you consider doodling on Photoshop and replying to fan mail work, that is.)

Not long enough, Aoi stirred to the sound of soft snoring and found Ruki starting to sport a waffle face. He snickered first before removing his laptop and setting it on the ground, then did the same for Ruki’s. Slowly but carefully, Aoi started discarding the paper off his bed.

When it was only Ruki left (thankfully still sound asleep), Aoi look behind, eyeing on the sea of disarray on his floor.

He shrugged anyway and plopped gently beside the younger, pulling him by the waist before whispering a hushed ‘good night.’

Uruha was only joking when he said that he usually worked even after midnight. Now he regrets having said so because some people tended to take his words seriously. He’d already forgotten how many times he sighed tonight but he can’t just stand up and risk breaking Aoi’s concentration.

Come to think of it though, it’s not all that bad watching Aoi practice. Even if the older man was facing back from him, Uruha could still imagine how Aoi’s brows creased in the middle as he alternated from the guitar to the computer, how small beads of sweat accumulated in his forehead.

Needless to say, Uruha found it amusing how much of a perfectionist workaholic his lover was. Given an opportunity, Aoi would always, in his own way, display extreme dedication to his craft.

Aoi suddenly cursed out as he hit another wrong string, and Uruha laughed to himself. The small laugh certainly did not escape Aoi’s sensitive ears and so he threw a glare to the younger.

Uruha stood up walked towards Aoi – the latter still glaring at him, but the younger didn’t seem fazed by that at all. Aoi was rather startled when Uruha bent down and leaned his head on the older’s shoulder.

“How about we go now?”

Aoi looked at the younger in a dumbfounded manner for a moment, then smiled and placed the guitar down. Perfection was good, but it’s nothing compared to Uruha’s calm voice already calling him home.

✖
Usually he knew where to stand in every single encounter that he comes across. It wasn’t a hard thing to be not painfully flamboyant (as he’s known for) once in a while, to be clandestine; he’d long convinced himself it’s all for the thrill.

Sometimes the thought just isn’t enough, but what else can he do about it anyway?

He shouldn’t be thinking of these things when they’re all out here to party, girls on the left arm and guys on the right. Let foreign lips latch on their own and their skins, let hands roam to places, and do their jobs to live the rock star life they’ve signed up for. But Ruki figured he was much more complex than that anyway.

The tenth shot of tequila should already be kicking into his system but it didn’t, but at least he had an excuse to stare Aoi in the face all the while. He brought the glass down with a clank against the table then excused himself.

Maybe it wasn’t his place to sit around and watch Aoi make out with everybody else.

✖
Ruki wasn’t generally a talkative person, but there were times that he spoke too much that Reita couldn’t handle it anymore. Of course Ruki had simply felt comfortable with Reita being around him for a long time now, but talking wasn’t Reita’s forte, which is why he opted playing console games with Uruha instead, taking pleasure in trash talking each other rather than talking about how stunning this certain pair of shoes looked or how fabulous his new design for this and that label was.

Reita had to think of something to shut him up.

“And how epic is the new design for our costumes, huh? I designed mine and yours myself and...” Noticing how Reita wasn’t listening anymore, the vocalist prodded the other man on the rib and snorted. “Reita, listen to m— the fu—!”

Next thing that Ruki knew, Reita was already holding him by the back of his head, and pressing their lips together.

“What the fuck are you doing!” Ruki all but screamed, thankfully not disturbing the people around them.

“Some epic shit. Now shut the fuck up or I’ll show you what legendary is.”

They want me. I want you. And you want someone else. But none of us want to turn around.

✖
Another tour passed and yet Ruki did not feel the exhaustion dawning on his body, just annoyance with the way his sweaty encore shirt clung to his skin. That was always a disgusting feeling.

At this rate there really shouldn’t be anything he’d be bitchy about. He got everything he wanted and more in a snap of a finger and from the looks of things, this will continue for years to come. One could say that Ruki was already getting bored but of course he wasn’t completely an ungrateful ass, just tired of mindless repetition. He needed something dynamic.

Everybody had already walked past him and proceeded to fall to their respective positions on the floor. Ruki looked at his band mates, all looking tired as hell as he was, and somehow he couldn’t help drawing a mental smile.

Trying to look cool and all, Ruki took his sweaty shirt off and leaned against the doorframe. The wood felt even more disgusting against his bare skin, but he needed to stay at that position for at least ten more seconds.

“Not much package to show there Ru, so don’t even bother.” A snicker followed, and Ruki wondered why he hadn’t mauled Aoi’s face whenever he felt the need to speak up at random times.

“I strongly disagree. I bet I have a bigger dick than you anyway.”

Aoi’s eyebrow rose. “Since when did short people have bigger dicks?”

“Since time immemorial, actually.” Ruki gestured to the nearby roadie for the pack of cigarettes and lighter by the table. He winced at the slick sound that he made when he pushed himself off the doorframe.

“Well prove it.” It was always easy to tick Aoi off, especially with Ruki’s sharp tongue.

The vocalist only shrugged. “How do I know you’re just not trying to get into my pants?”

“Because I’d be much more subtle if I were trying to get into your pants, Ruki-chan.” The words sounded as if Aoi was getting them out through his teeth.

“Then there’s no reason for me to show you my dick, Aoi-ojiisan.” Ruki grinned at the roadie who grabbed his smokes, who in turn gave him a sheepish and confused smile.

✖

For #119 of 15_minute_fic

✖

Dust, it was something so small and insignificant and yet people are always bothered by it – Ruki was no exception. He obsessively dusted his clothes every time he’d notice even the smallest fleck of dust just so he could keep his clothing immaculate, and yet the action really didn’t have any value, it didn’t solve world peace, it didn’t make Ruki happy, it did nothing. But it was there, he noticed it, and he wanted to get rid of it.

As small as dust – that was something that Ruki never wanted himself to be thought of. And it was almost impossible to think of him as such, it was almost blasphemous – Ruki, the vocalist of Gazette, he certainly is larger than life. His ego wouldn’t let that happen, his fame would contest to that, nothing in him would ever indicate that he was ever small.

And yet whenever he’s under Aoi’s scrutiny, he felt no more than an insignificant speck. Those dark, mysterious eyes taking in his full form – Ruki would always feel so insecure about that, and if there’s any feeling that he hated then it would be insecurity. He wasn’t an insecure person, but each time he’s in Aoi’s gaze, then he was. Aoi was one person that turned him inside out. He hated that.

He hated the fact that he actually loves Aoi so damn much, and yet there’s nothing he could do about it; for some reason he just couldn’t.

He hated the fact that he loves Aoi to the point that it hurt, so damn much.

Ruki was a subtle person, and maybe that was his fault. He never did say what exactly was on his mind, but anybody would’ve caught on to what he actually wanted to say, and Aoi wasn’t dumb. Maybe just insensitive.

Or maybe Ruki was just the one who didn’t notice. Like a speck of dust, Aoi’s actions were barely noticeable. Until now.

“I notice you, Ruki, you just don’t look hard enough.”

And with that, Aoi went out the door, leaving Ruki with his mouth wide open, his chest pounding hard, and somehow he didn’t feel so little in Aoi’s eyes anymore.

For #124 of 15_minute_fic

✖

It wasn’t something that he really expected to happen.

He didn’t even realize that something like this was building up inside him right from the start.

It was just a few glances, a small throb in the heart whenever that person smiles, a miniscule longing to hear that person’s voice. He never thought it would escalate to something as prolonged stares, butterflies in the stomach, and ringing up his phone at 3 in the morning just to hear that person’s voice before he sleeps.

This never happened before. He liked girls, not guys who looked like girls, because everybody knows that despite the make-up and the fluffed hair, underneath all that is all man. Maybe a little dorkiness too, but that was beside the point.

Of course he never saw it coming.

Sometimes he thought that if he ignored that feeling, then it would go away, but the more he tried to scramble his way out, the more that he got sucked into this whirlpool of annoying admiration. He wasn’t supposed to be admiring anybody than himself; it wasn’t in his nature, and even if it was a lover that he looked for, then he would never think of them with such high regard.

This was bad. What he thought was just a drizzle had become a full blown rain, and it doesn’t seem that this rain would be stopping any time soon.

Then again, Aoi had always loved the rain. Especially the unexpected ones. Except when he forgot his umbrella, like right now.

“You really didn’t have to accompany me all the way home,” Aoi sighed defeatedly, hands in his pockets since he wasn’t even allowed to carry the umbrella for the two of them.

“But I wanted to,” was the reply, accompanied with a lighthearted laugh.

“Seriously. You’re stubborn in your own way, aren’t you?”

“Is it so wrong to care, now, Aoi-san?” Uruha tilted his head to the side a bit, and Aoi stopped in his tracks.

“Since when did you start to care?”

Uruha looked up to the sky through his transparent umbrella before turning back to the older, then smiled. “I’ve always cared, you just don’t notice.”

Well. That certainly wasn’t expected.

“Yes, Aoi-san, so please stop grinning now. It kind of creeps me out.”

And Aoi did stop grinning, though he wished that this rain would last for a bit longer, and the road to extend a little further.

The tips of your fingers
graze against the skin of
my inner thighs –
teasing, scratching,
drawing a moan past
my damp lips.

As I look down on you
with vision obscured
caused by my
thickened breathing,

I wonder if sometimes
you think it would also
be pleasing to put your
mouth on my mouth
instead of my cock
for a change.

after sono.

✖

We stretch out our hands
as if to take the world into our arms

(then again, the world means only the two of us)

and feel the wind against our skins;
my hands on your hips,
your hair on my lips.


You pout when
I say we’d never
be Jack and Rose
even if we tried
and I only laugh.


Of course we’d never
be like them –

one:
for obvious reasons,
and two:
there’s no iceberg big enough

to sink us down.