1/1 Author: xxshamisenGenre:
Real people, real circumstances, fake stories.Summary:
They were such a beautiful mess.Comment: Prompt
. Made for yumikouri
because she's so awesome for giving me basic Swedish lessons, ahah. Jag älskar dig
, Yumi-chan! ♥
Aoi found beauty in many things. He found beauty in the things usually underrated; he found beauty in things that are not considered beautiful. Hell, he even found beauty in the way that Uruha’s amp cables are now twisted into so many careless knots. Needless to say, he noticed things, and finds the beauty in them one way or another.
Uruha, of course, was different. If anybody displayed beauty so obviously (he even has it on his name, for god’s sake) then it would be him. There were times that he’d deliberately do something to make his beauty stand out, but at most times it seems that he does beauty so effortlessly. It wasn’t just in terms of his physical appearance but also in almost everything – playing the guitar, speaking out his opinions, and of course there was also his proud yet adorable personality.
Those whose beauty was widely recognized, Aoi usually ignored. The main reason why is because he believes that these things – persons – had already been showered with enough attention and praise that he doesn’t need to reiterate the truth anymore. Somehow it was also a resistance: a resistance to the conformity of groveling at the feet of whatever is beautiful to the eyes of many. Somehow it was also about his selfishness: if he loved and appreciated something that’s not loved and appreciated by others, then it was easier to have that something for himself. Aoi always found it amusing how possessive he actually was.
Now, leaning against the doorframe of the recording room as he silently watched Uruha desperately try to straighten out the sloppy tangles he himself caused, Aoi contemplated on how everything was such a beautiful mess.
The way they are now isn’t supposed to be. It’s not that Aoi thought Uruha was too good, too beautiful for him to even reach (although at times he did feel like so, Aoi just wasn’t the type to revere someone that much – at least, he wouldn’t admit to that) but for the mere fact that everything just wasn’t right. They were both men and somehow the odds always seem to work against the two of them – work and their other businesses kept them from each other. The fact that Aoi once rejected his own feelings for the other man for the reason that he didn’t want to like somebody who’s already desired by many was another cause. So many things point to the collapse of what they had, but of course, they only simply point.
That’s why everything was such a beautiful mess, Aoi always justified. They weren’t supposed to be, everything was so very wrong and yet they’re there
, beside each other every night, their lives entangled to each other to the point that they don’t even need words to say what they want to say, no odd looks to express with their eyes, but they just know
whatever it is that they had to know. Like they existed in each other, even.
And because the both of them just know what they had to know, Uruha didn’t have to look up to recognize Aoi’s presence, and Aoi didn’t have to ask if Uruha needed help (it wasn’t because it was badly drawn on the younger’s face though – Uruha never showed his frustration ever). After thirty minutes of watching in amusement, Aoi pushed himself off the doorway and walked to Uruha’s direction, and then sat down next to him.
Without as much saying a word, he took the cable wires from Uruha’s hands and undid the knots himself. While Uruha spent half an hour staring and trying to figure out how he would untie those stupid cables, it only took Aoi ten minutes to actually get them undone. In those minutes Aoi also had to endure Uruha endlessly bitch about how lousy the material for this cable was, that it wasn’t ‘flexible’ enough, it didn’t help in making good guitar sounds anyway, and other things that weren’t even relevant to what they were doing. And minutes later Uruha was still going at it, but Aoi really didn’t mind at all.
“I love you,” Aoi said finally, stopping Uruha in mid-sentence.
No, the younger didn’t blush, nor did he give Aoi a kiss or anything similarly sappy. He just gave out a soft smile and continued to talk, because the both of them knew better than to break the beautiful mess that they created.