The Smile That You WoreChapter(s):
1 - Friday NightAuthor: xxshamisen
Angst, Romance, Fluff? Rating:
PG-13 to NC-17 depending on the chapter ^^Warnings:
This chapter has smut. Yup. Pairing:
Everything written here came from my imagination. Plus I don't own any of the boys
though I wish I did xD
.Summary: It was an unrequited love; everybody knew that, but never made mentioned of it even once. Ever since that fateful day six years ago, Aoi knew Uruha was different from anybody he’d laid his eyes upon. Comments:
OMG. I can't believe I was able to rack my brain for something quite decent~ It's the continuation of the unfinished fic that I had before, and it could also be treated as an explanation for the fic I made the other day [Matter of Knowing
], but actually this one can stand alone from it. Hope you guys won't be too disappointed~ plus comments are nice. ^^ Sankyuu~
Aoi traced everything that had happened back to Miyavi. If only he didn’t like Kai so much (like-like
, as the eccentric guitarist had put it), then he wouldn’t try thinking of a way to finally getting in the cute Gazette drummer’s pants. He wouldn’t have come up with the plan of having a little party among the PSC bands – even though it only consisted of himself and Gazette – and get Kai to loosen up by drowning him in so much alcohol his sanity lights were punched out only five minutes into the game. He wouldn’t have asked Ruki to be the entertainment, Reita for… well, whatever it is the bassist was good at, Aoi for the cigarettes, and of course, Uruha for the alcohol. That Friday night, nothing would have happened; Aoi should’ve been alone in his apartment that time, calling the manager to join him for dinner and getting aggravated because he’d have refused, then he would’ve just slept his hunger away, all the while waiting for the Saturday band practice to come.
But something did
happen, and he just had to blame it on somebody.
“It’s all your fault,” he punched on the taller guitarist’s shoulder rather playfully, before dropping his cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. A puzzled Miyavi simply looked up at Aoi, who just stood up and dusted off particles that had clung at the back of his pants.
Miyavi took the nicotine substitute in between his fingers and pretended to blow, childishly tilting his head towards Aoi’s direction. “I’m sorry…?”
Aoi simply smiled and made his way inside the building, leaving the other man on his own, knowing how he dumbfoundedly scratched at the back of his head without even looking back. The door closed silently behind the dark haired guitarist, who, for a moment stopped to let out a deep sigh.
It’s just that he has grown tired of blaming himself for what happened.
It was supposed to be a normal Friday night out with his band mates, his friends. Miyavi just had this brilliant
idea of treating everybody out to the bar nearest the studio and had it reserved only for them because with the money he alone had, he could. Though not too fond of the odd guitarist himself, Aoi agreed, only because he wanted to see how Kai would be able to get out of this mess. Besides, he had to admit, the two did look cute together, if only they’d only be able to sort out their feelings for each other.
Aoi silently watched as the party unfold before his eyes, first with Ruki tugging Reita out the room for a short ‘walk,’ and though the vocalist had always been the baby of the band in terms of age (and height), he wasn’t fooling anybody at all. Then Miyavi already had Kai dancing at the palm of his hands, and quite literally too – how the taller guitarist actually got Kai to give him a lap dance or two was beyond him, but he did enjoy the sight.
Finally there was Uruha, silently observing the party from his corner as well, eyes veiled with a pair of dark sunglasses (who wears sunglasses inside a bar anyway? Aoi had questioned himself that a couple of times) that Aoi couldn’t clearly see what expression the blond really had on his face. There was only a small, seemingly innocent smile on his lips and his eyes were directed somewhere the brunet didn’t know, and the latter didn’t feel good about it either. At that he grabbed on his beer mug and chugged it down, but only to distract himself from thoughts about the other guitarist, as well as to avoid making any eye contact with him. Because really, for all Aoi knew, Uruha could very well be staring him down that very moment.
And he was.
With Ruki and Reita back from their ‘walk,’ Aoi excused himself for a bathroom break, though there really was no need for him to go to the bathroom. Perhaps it was just that he wanted an excuse to get his ass off the rather comfortable lounge he’d been sitting on for hours now (envy?), or that he felt like washing his face for a while to get rid of the spinning feeling that he got from the alcohol (disgust?). Either way, he just felt uncomfortable sitting there, especially with two pairs already making out in front of him. As he exited from the room Aoi made a face; something he’d never do even behind his friends’ back had he been completely sober.
The splash of cool water against his skin certainly was refreshing, and it allowed Aoi to clear his mind once and for all. Why was he here anyway, when he didn’t even really feel like going with anything Miyavi had planned, because really, anything that he suggested would be either stupid or Aoi just didn’t feel like doing it. No, Aoi didn’t have any ill feelings towards Miyavi, but…
Aoi grunted in frustration. Here he was putting the blame on somebody else when he knew perfectly what his intentions were. Coming to this party meant everybody was going to get drunk, maybe not him and Reita because the two of them had always been the most sensible in the group, but they were going to get themselves wasted anyway. Getting wasted always led to different things; Ruki’s and Reita’s relationship being the proof for that, and it was the main reason why Miyavi had all of these planned anyway. As for him and Uruha, he really didn’t want to think of it anymore. With a hand covering his face and the other clutching the edge of the sink, Aoi sighed.
It was an unrequited love; everybody knew that, but never made mentioned of it even once. Ever since that fateful day six years ago, Aoi knew Uruha was different from anybody he’d laid his eyes upon. There was always this mysterious air around him despite the random and dorky antics the younger perpetrated, the simplicity that he exuded, and there was no doubt to his beauty, with or without make-up. At some point Aoi had convinced himself it was only jealousy, not only because he felt that the blond was better than him in playing the guitar, but also because he always made something exquisitely beautiful to Aoi’s eyes without even doing much effort. Music, the stupid yet cute little drawings, the way he did his hair… just, everything.
But it definitely wasn’t jealousy. After years of deluding himself that it was only jealousy and Uruha was his ultimate rival, everything came crashing down that day at Yokohama Arena.
It was a simple kiss, done only to rouse the audience for their hyped screams, to bring the band’s spirits up even more. But apparently that wasn’t the case – Uruha didn’t simply do that as a publicity stunt, but also because he’d taken in a little too much to drink before the show.
And it didn’t stop there.
The older guitarist shook his head and cursed under his breath, but his eyes started to widen suddenly as he stared directly into the mirror, like the protagonists in those old horror flicks. It wasn’t a ghost that he saw, however.
“You’re running away from me again,” Uruha’s deep voice purred against his ear, making him shiver slightly, more so when the blond’s grip tightened around his waist.
Aoi looked away from the mirror immediately, though for a moment unable to move, shocked but deep inside expecting that something like this might happen. He swallowed thickly before gaining the courage to finally turn back, only to be greeted with a seductive smile by Uruha, his tongue darting out to lick his own plush lips.
“I’m not,” the older guitarist managed to answer, but only as a whisper, before Uruha captured his lips into a shallow, sloppy kiss. He pulled back, but obviously unwilling, unable to look the blond in the face. “Uruha… stop it, you’re drunk.”
“I’m always drunk if you haven’t noticed,” the younger giggled rather innocently, pulling Aoi into another kiss, this time with more heat, more longing, with more intensity. Uruha cupped the back of the other man’s neck, exploring the mouth that he wasn’t so unfamiliar with, and a helpless Aoi stood there, unable to do anything but to respond to the hot kiss because in reality, he wanted it too. “And you always taste ever so sweet,” he breathed against Aoi’s lips, a wider, more meaningful smile forming on his own.
“Uruha what are you—”
“Aoi, I know you want this too anyway, so stop whining like a bitch,” the younger said in a commanding tone as he pressed a thigh in between Aoi’s legs, making the latter pant, gripping on Uruha’s arm rather helplessly.
“Somebody might see us… Uruha please sto—” However Aoi was silenced when Uruha pressed his thigh on harder against him, more so when the blond’s hand snaked inside his pants to lightly ghost his fingers over his clothed flesh teasingly. He simply closed his eyes shut and bit down on his lower lip, a measure to prevent himself from letting out any more indecent moans (but failing anyway) as his grip on Uruha’s arm softened.
When Uruha noticed this he simply knew that the other had already cracked, and finally dropped down to his knees as he undid Aoi’s pants. Excitement was evident on the younger’s face as he fondled the semi-hard flesh with his calloused fingers, all the while Aoi did his best not to let his eyes fall to the image in the mirror. He didn’t want to see what disgrace he has become, how low he had sunk, all for whatever Uruha was willing to give, even if it was only the heat of his body.
An eager tongue swiped over the older guitarist’s lower head, shooting chills of pleasure down his spine, his fingers involuntarily tangling themselves onto Uruha’s soft, blond hair. Aoi refrained himself from pushing Uruha’s head deeper, but as if the other had read his mind, the younger man took in Aoi’s cock fully in his mouth that its head nudged on his throat. Only frenzied moans escaped Aoi’s mouth by this time; Aoi’s eyes rolled at the back of his head as his erection was engulfed by the sweet warmth that was Uruha’s mouth.
The blond made wet, popping sounds, as if he was sucking only a lollipop. But that was one of his secrets – one secret that Aoi knew very well – that he was most certainly turned on with lewd noises tickling his ears. Else why would Aoi let out such shameless moans and throaty whimpers? Letting out a small chuckle as he continued on sucking and laving on Aoi, Uruha had his right hand free his own arousal from its constraints, as the other held the base of the older man’s erection. At that he started pumping on himself in the same rhythm that he sucked on Aoi’s cock.
Uruha had always been good at this. The moment he noticed Aoi was already close to climax he stopped, leaving the older breathless, sweating, and most importantly, unsatisfied. Of course his own need was out of the question, a couple of strokes couldn’t possibly bring him to the edge. With a smirk he looked up to Aoi, who, in return, looked to him with a hazed and questioning expression, and fixed his own pants. Right after that he stood up and fixed Aoi’s as well, zipping it up as hard as he could as a tease, earning him a low moan from the other man.
“Aoi-chan I’m sleepy…” he whispered in that innocent, child-like tone on Aoi’s ears as he circled his arms over the other’s shoulders. “Take me home?”
Aoi didn’t need to be told twice. He took Uruha’s arms over his shoulder as the younger feigned (or did he?) drunkenness, resolved to blame everything that would happened tonight to alcohol and Miyavi when he wakes up tomorrow.
The two managed to exit the bar without much suspicion from their friends. Or was it that those four were simply too drunk to even care wherever the hell the two of them would go? Either way it didn’t matter now that they were inside Aoi’s car, ready to go where they wanted (or at least Uruha) to go, only if they’d take a break from their lustful kissing and tongue battles.
“Uruha,” the older managed to pant out, grabbing on the collar of Uruha’s polo shirt, clinging to it as if it was the only thing that would ground himself back to earth, “We won’t be able to reach your house if we don’t stop this.”
Uruha simply swatted Aoi’s hand off his shirt and brought it to his crotch, making Aoi rub on it while he let out soft mewls against the other’s ear. “Let’s go to your house then. It’s closer from here, isn’t it?”
With Uruha placing open-mouthed kisses on his neck and his hand gently caressing his thigh, Aoi had to wonder how the two of them got to his apartment safely. Maybe it was because the road to his home was so deserted he didn’t even notice any car at all, or that his mind was too determined to pin the younger on his bed, where it was more comfortable, where it would allow him to explore more. In other words, Aoi didn’t have any plans of letting this chance pass. Not when Uruha was more than willing to offer him his body fully, compared to the other times when he only needed Aoi for a quick release.
It was a long and hot walk from where Aoi parked to his apartment, with Uruha’s plush lips latched onto the older guitarist’s skin like a leech. Sucking, marking on the soft, tanned skin where Aoi wanted to be marked. He still couldn’t believe why after all these times of knowing how their bodies fit each other perfectly and how they knew what the other exactly wanted, Uruha always avoided talking about their relationship, of what they really were, what they really meant to each other. Aoi knew the answer to that, but the blond had always refused (figuratively, of course) to give his.
But what good was it to think of such complicated matters when he already had a hot body longing for him? The dark haired guitarist knew he thought too deeply at times, and finally
figured he had to stop it right now.
Even just for the sake of carnal desires, at least for tonight all of Uruha was his. And the blond didn’t even have to worry about him because right from the start Aoi had been his.
The door slammed behind the two of them and Aoi clicked the lock shut, once more amused at the fact that he could still do some rational thinking. But all of that seemed to have gone out the window when the blond took his shirt off and maneuvered himself so that he was the one being pinned against the wall. Aoi noted of this, confirming his theory that Uruha did want to be dominated. The first smile of the night fell on Aoi’s lips as he lavished Uruha’s neck and collarbone with gentle kisses as he hurriedly unbuttoned the blond’s shirt.
“Aoi,” the younger panted, looking ever so lustful with those half-lidded eyes that were only directed to the brunet, “Take me now Aoi.”
Like the obedient boy that he was, the dark haired guitarist didn’t have to be told twice.
The dimly lit space that was Aoi’s bedroom was filled at once with screams of pleasure by the younger guitarist. There was no need for foreplay, too much preparation, nor even sweet words to get them into any kind of mood. No, what they only needed was the pack of condoms Aoi had lying somewhere in his bedside drawer and the lube Uruha always had hidden in his back pocket (how the blond was able to walk around with that thing in his pocket was just beyond Aoi, though he refrained from thinking about it any further).
Sheathing himself fully with the rubber protection and having slicked a copious amount of lubrication on it, Aoi sighed hotly, kissing Uruha chastely on the lips before the blond had completely turned it into something so sloppy and dirty, and then pushed against the younger’s entrance. That earned him an impatient growl from the blond, telling him to ‘fuck him senseless already,’ to which Aoi simply complied. This was much different from the Uruha that he knew – the Uruha that he knew was a simple, rather nonsensical man who possessed exquisite beauty. This Uruha was no more than an animal in heat, but Aoi loved him all the same.
He smiled wryly as he forcefully thrust himself into Uruha, the younger moaning loudly and writhing from under his body. Love? That’s right – Aoi loved Uruha. Even too much for his own good. Yet he knew those feelings couldn’t be reciprocated, but Aoi did hope that in the future, it will change. For now he slid in and out of Uruha non-too-gently, not even caring if the screams and groans that came out of the younger’s mouth could be heard in the unit below his. The violent thrusts and the possessive grip that he had on the other’s hips were not Aoi-like, having always been a gentle person (regardless of the temper) , but it weren’t actions of revenge because Uruha couldn’t and wouldn’t love him back. Though not blatantly saying anything, Uruha had never given him the chance to properly let him feel the affection he had always wanted to give. The closest way that he could was through physical means, and Aoi was pretty content with that.
It was funny how despite the fact that Aoi was the one fucking Uruha, the older guitarist was also the masochistic one.
With his prostate being hit on for the nth time, Uruha finally had his climax, coating his and Aoi’s abdomen with his white, sticky release. It wasn’t long before Aoi came as well, this being his third time tonight. Aoi immediately withdrew himself from inside the blond, knowing for some strange reason that Uruha didn’t want it in anymore. He just had to look at Uruha’s flushed face.
Aoi then plopped down beside the younger, showering the creamy skin of his neck feathery kisses. Uruha, however, didn’t move at all, his eyes simply staring forward at the ceiling, chest still rising and falling erratically. The older couldn’t tell whether this unresponsiveness was because of the afterglow or something else, but seeing as the other didn’t resist, he supported his weight on his elbow then trailed the kisses up to the blond’s cheek, then finally to those ever so kissable lips. Uruha still remained unmoving, but it didn’t matter. At least he wasn’t being rejected.
With a smile Aoi buried his head against his fluffy pillows, before turning to Uruha again to caress his cheek. Aoi sighed contently as he brushed the stray strands of hair from Uruha’s eyes, and he had to smile again. “Uruha,” the name danced on his lips, and he brushed his own dark hair from his face, so that he could see more clearly the perfection that was lying beside him.
“I love you.
Aoi was unsure of what it was that flashed before Uruha’s eyes, but the blank expression that the other had was changed into something undecipherable. Within seconds the blond faced away from Aoi and sat on the bed, standing up eventually and grabbing his clothes that had been discarded on the floor. “May I use your shower?” the blond inquired quietly, clutching his garments near to his nakedness.
“S…sure,” was the only thing he could reply with before Uruha disappeared into his bathroom.
Aoi buried his face deep into his pillows and hid his bare body beneath the tangled silk sheets of his bed. The sound of the bathroom door clicking was the last thing that registered to his mind that certain Friday night.