Bi (Beauty) - Miyavi/Reita
Title: Bi (Beauty)
Author: Kagome
Theme: #8 - Beauty
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Miyavi (solo)/Reita (Gazette)
Disclaimer: Neither Miyavi nor Reita belong to me. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken seriously.
Summary: Miyavi’s hot, sure… But Reita sees beauty there first and foremost, even though Miyavi vehemently denies that he possesses such a quality.
Comments: *Pets Reita* You guys should really adore him in this fic. ^_^ The fic is fairly short, but I believe it conveys all that I meant for it to… so… yeah. Enjoy~! Eighth 50stories fic.
Bi
There are times when Miyavi looks in the mirror - times that he smiles, pokes his head out of the bathroom, and says, “I look hot today, don’t I Rei-chan?” Who am I to deny him? Of course he looks hot - he always looks hot, and I’m pretty damn sure that he knows it, too. Not to say that I think he’s narcissistic or anything (okay, maybe he is, just a little), or that he’s an egotist (maybe he’s a little bit of that, too… just maybe). But, you know, when you’ve got it, you’ve got it. There’s no point in looking at yourself and saying, ‘I don’t look worth a shit today’ when the entire population of Japan would quite willingly argue with that statement.
So, yes. My boyfriend is hot. He’s sexy. He’s good-looking, and all that. He has no problem flaunting himself off when he believes he looks particularly sexy, either. Not that I’m complaining in the least, mind you. I believe that it’s a good thing, his ability to notice his own good looks and to be so confident in them, and in himself.
There is one quality, however, that I believe he doesn’t give himself credit for possessing. That quality is beauty. Whenever I try to tell him that he is beautiful, he smiles at me and shakes his head. “Such a word is not reserved for someone like me, Rei-chan. There’s no beauty here. Good looks, yes. But beauty? No.”
I can’t help but wonder why he fails to see it, when I can see it so clearly. Perhaps we all, at some point or another in our lives, fail to notice qualities that we possess, and only others are able to notice them. Maybe this is one of those cases - maybe Miyavi just isn’t capable of seeing how beautiful he truly is.
It’s further proof that he can be very blind sometimes - he is with me after all, and I tend to believe that one would have to be blind in order to be with a person like me… or at least willing to overlook some things.
Heh… I guess I just reinforced my earlier point about people not seeing things within themselves. He must see plenty of things that I am not able to see. He must think I’m blind too, in that aspect.
He used to call himself Miyabi. He doesn’t say much about that part of his life, and I never ask. There is one thing that I am curious about, though… You see, the last character of ‘Miyabi’ is ‘bi’, and ‘bi’ by itself means beauty. Of course, when he went solo, he changed the ‘bi’ to ‘vi’, so that now he’s Miyavi. Perhaps he believed the ‘beauty’ he possesses died when he changed his name… like removing ‘bi’ would remove that beauty. If that’s the case, I hate to burst his bubble, but that beauty hasn’t left him.
Now, I’m no philosopher. That should be fairly obvious, right? But I do mean what I say. It may not make much sense, but still… the feeling is there, and I guess that that is what’s most important.
He’s beautiful when he steps out of the shower, dripping water all over our bathroom floor, and eventually our bedroom floor and also me, simply because at times he doesn’t bother to dry himself off properly.
He’s beautiful when he’s on stage, singing his heart out, playing guitar… doing exactly what he loves.
He’s beautiful when he’s underneath me, his hips rocking to meet mine, his whimpers and moans filling our bedroom, echoing my own. The look on his face when he orgasms is indescribable, really - the way his eyes remain locked on mine until he can’t help but close them, the way his facial features contort into an expression of the utmost pleasure…
And to think, he simply waves the compliment off when I tell him that he is beautiful. If only he could see himself through my eyes…
Like right now. He’s sleeping, and this is pretty much the only time that he’s so quiet. You may be chuckling about that, but I’m serious. There’s hardly a moment when this man is silent, but I don’t mind it. He looks peaceful - almost angelic when he’s asleep. I only have a few moments to drink in the sight of him like this, however. He’ll wake up any moment now.
As if on cue, one eye blinks open, and then the other. “You know,” he says, reaching out to ruffle my hair, “waking up to you staring at me like that still kinda freaks me out a little.”
I offer him a smile. “Sorry,” I tell him, though I’m not really apologetic in the least.
“Sure you are~.” He sits up and stretches, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair along the way. His fingers apparently snag on a small tangle, because in the next moment, he’s cursing softly. “I don’t even want to look at myself in the mirror this morning, he says, pouting at me. “I know I have to look like shit.”
Okay, so Miyavi knows that he’s hot. His brain just doesn’t believe that he is when he first wakes up, so he always spends a while in the bathroom before he emerges - in a bit of a triumphant manner - and tells me that all is well with the world now that he is good-looking once again.
Yes, he’s a dork.
At the moment, his eyes still show the remnants of sleep, he has on absolutely no makeup, and his hair is anything but perfectly in place. But you know what? He’s still beautiful, and I tell him as much. “You’re beautiful, Miya-chan.”
Of course, I fully expect him to tell me that I’m wrong (or tell me something along those lines), but what he does next surprises me. He frowns a little as though he is thinking about something, and then he smiles brightly. “Thanks.”
While I am trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he didn’t disagree with me, he steps into the bathroom. “Hey, Miya-chan… Not that I’m complaining or anything of the sort, but you didn’t disagree with me…”
“I read something the other day… It may sound really silly to you, but the thing I read… it said that people should wait for the one who calls them beautiful instead of hot, and you know…” He pokes his head around the doorframe then, grinning at me. “… I think that they might actually have something there. After all, I waited for you.”
He still manages to say things to make me perfectly speechless.
He blows me a kiss and then disappears from my view once more. The next thing I hear is the sound of the shower running.
If he doesn’t dry off well when he gets out of the shower this morning and gets the floor soaking wet, and gets me soaking wet, I won’t complain in the slightest. I won’t even grimace. I mean, I think he deserves at least that much after surprising me like that.
And you know, as silly as it may sound coming from someone like me… I think that whoever wrote what it was that Miyavi read… I do believe that they know what they’re talking about.
~End
Author: Kagome
Theme: #8 - Beauty
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Miyavi (solo)/Reita (Gazette)
Disclaimer: Neither Miyavi nor Reita belong to me. This is a work of fiction and is not meant to be taken seriously.
Summary: Miyavi’s hot, sure… But Reita sees beauty there first and foremost, even though Miyavi vehemently denies that he possesses such a quality.
Comments: *Pets Reita* You guys should really adore him in this fic. ^_^ The fic is fairly short, but I believe it conveys all that I meant for it to… so… yeah. Enjoy~! Eighth 50stories fic.
Bi
There are times when Miyavi looks in the mirror - times that he smiles, pokes his head out of the bathroom, and says, “I look hot today, don’t I Rei-chan?” Who am I to deny him? Of course he looks hot - he always looks hot, and I’m pretty damn sure that he knows it, too. Not to say that I think he’s narcissistic or anything (okay, maybe he is, just a little), or that he’s an egotist (maybe he’s a little bit of that, too… just maybe). But, you know, when you’ve got it, you’ve got it. There’s no point in looking at yourself and saying, ‘I don’t look worth a shit today’ when the entire population of Japan would quite willingly argue with that statement.
So, yes. My boyfriend is hot. He’s sexy. He’s good-looking, and all that. He has no problem flaunting himself off when he believes he looks particularly sexy, either. Not that I’m complaining in the least, mind you. I believe that it’s a good thing, his ability to notice his own good looks and to be so confident in them, and in himself.
There is one quality, however, that I believe he doesn’t give himself credit for possessing. That quality is beauty. Whenever I try to tell him that he is beautiful, he smiles at me and shakes his head. “Such a word is not reserved for someone like me, Rei-chan. There’s no beauty here. Good looks, yes. But beauty? No.”
I can’t help but wonder why he fails to see it, when I can see it so clearly. Perhaps we all, at some point or another in our lives, fail to notice qualities that we possess, and only others are able to notice them. Maybe this is one of those cases - maybe Miyavi just isn’t capable of seeing how beautiful he truly is.
It’s further proof that he can be very blind sometimes - he is with me after all, and I tend to believe that one would have to be blind in order to be with a person like me… or at least willing to overlook some things.
Heh… I guess I just reinforced my earlier point about people not seeing things within themselves. He must see plenty of things that I am not able to see. He must think I’m blind too, in that aspect.
He used to call himself Miyabi. He doesn’t say much about that part of his life, and I never ask. There is one thing that I am curious about, though… You see, the last character of ‘Miyabi’ is ‘bi’, and ‘bi’ by itself means beauty. Of course, when he went solo, he changed the ‘bi’ to ‘vi’, so that now he’s Miyavi. Perhaps he believed the ‘beauty’ he possesses died when he changed his name… like removing ‘bi’ would remove that beauty. If that’s the case, I hate to burst his bubble, but that beauty hasn’t left him.
Now, I’m no philosopher. That should be fairly obvious, right? But I do mean what I say. It may not make much sense, but still… the feeling is there, and I guess that that is what’s most important.
He’s beautiful when he steps out of the shower, dripping water all over our bathroom floor, and eventually our bedroom floor and also me, simply because at times he doesn’t bother to dry himself off properly.
He’s beautiful when he’s on stage, singing his heart out, playing guitar… doing exactly what he loves.
He’s beautiful when he’s underneath me, his hips rocking to meet mine, his whimpers and moans filling our bedroom, echoing my own. The look on his face when he orgasms is indescribable, really - the way his eyes remain locked on mine until he can’t help but close them, the way his facial features contort into an expression of the utmost pleasure…
And to think, he simply waves the compliment off when I tell him that he is beautiful. If only he could see himself through my eyes…
Like right now. He’s sleeping, and this is pretty much the only time that he’s so quiet. You may be chuckling about that, but I’m serious. There’s hardly a moment when this man is silent, but I don’t mind it. He looks peaceful - almost angelic when he’s asleep. I only have a few moments to drink in the sight of him like this, however. He’ll wake up any moment now.
As if on cue, one eye blinks open, and then the other. “You know,” he says, reaching out to ruffle my hair, “waking up to you staring at me like that still kinda freaks me out a little.”
I offer him a smile. “Sorry,” I tell him, though I’m not really apologetic in the least.
“Sure you are~.” He sits up and stretches, leaning over to kiss me on the cheek before climbing out of bed and heading towards the bathroom, running his fingers through his hair along the way. His fingers apparently snag on a small tangle, because in the next moment, he’s cursing softly. “I don’t even want to look at myself in the mirror this morning, he says, pouting at me. “I know I have to look like shit.”
Okay, so Miyavi knows that he’s hot. His brain just doesn’t believe that he is when he first wakes up, so he always spends a while in the bathroom before he emerges - in a bit of a triumphant manner - and tells me that all is well with the world now that he is good-looking once again.
Yes, he’s a dork.
At the moment, his eyes still show the remnants of sleep, he has on absolutely no makeup, and his hair is anything but perfectly in place. But you know what? He’s still beautiful, and I tell him as much. “You’re beautiful, Miya-chan.”
Of course, I fully expect him to tell me that I’m wrong (or tell me something along those lines), but what he does next surprises me. He frowns a little as though he is thinking about something, and then he smiles brightly. “Thanks.”
While I am trying to wrap my mind around the fact that he didn’t disagree with me, he steps into the bathroom. “Hey, Miya-chan… Not that I’m complaining or anything of the sort, but you didn’t disagree with me…”
“I read something the other day… It may sound really silly to you, but the thing I read… it said that people should wait for the one who calls them beautiful instead of hot, and you know…” He pokes his head around the doorframe then, grinning at me. “… I think that they might actually have something there. After all, I waited for you.”
He still manages to say things to make me perfectly speechless.
He blows me a kiss and then disappears from my view once more. The next thing I hear is the sound of the shower running.
If he doesn’t dry off well when he gets out of the shower this morning and gets the floor soaking wet, and gets me soaking wet, I won’t complain in the slightest. I won’t even grimace. I mean, I think he deserves at least that much after surprising me like that.
And you know, as silly as it may sound coming from someone like me… I think that whoever wrote what it was that Miyavi read… I do believe that they know what they’re talking about.
~End