Ice - Miyavi/Reita
Title: Ice
Author: Kagome
Theme: #14 - Cold
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Miyavi (solo)/Reita (GazettE)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: Miyavi knew exactly what he was getting into from the very first moment he approached Reita. But did that stop him, and does it keep him from believing that things might eventually change?
Comments: Well, this is it. The other sidestory for Transition, and it takes place at the end of Chapter Five. I suppose this is also a fic that can stand quite well on its own, but it makes much more sense if you’ve read at least up to the fifth chapter of Transition. This one’s in Miyavi’s POV, and when I saw the theme for ‘cold’, I just knew that it would really fit Miyavi’s train of thought for that part of the fic. Hope you guys like it~. ^_^
Ice
From the first moment that I met you, I knew you were that type - the type that doesn’t let people in easily, the type that pushes others away without a second thought. You’re the type of person that has to remain perfectly in control of the situation; you’re the type of person that wouldn’t bother getting emotionally involved with someone like me.
You have such a cold personality. You’re like ice, whether you know it or not. You calculate everything - even this… this thing that’s between us. You’ve narrowed it down to lust and you’re attempting to leave absolutely no room for anything else; you tell yourself that there’s nothing else between you and me. There’s no love, there’s no friendship. There’s nothing but sex between us. I think that’s the way you wanted it, from the very beginning.
No, wait. You didn’t even want this, did you? You didn’t want to feel desire for me. I knew that very first night we had sex - you wanted me, but you wanted to push me away at the same time. I knew that, and still, I wanted you.
From the moment we first met, I was drawn to you. I wanted to see if I could crawl under your skin - make you bring out that side of yourself that you kept hidden. I wanted to make you lose control, since you seem to like control so much.
I bet you didn’t expect that I would be so stubborn. I’m like you, in that sense, I think. I don’t take no for an answer. I get what I want, in the end. I don’t let people push me around, either. If you push, I don’t take it, Reita. I push back. You know that by now, don’t you?
It’s funny… You tell me that I’m the narcissist. You tell me that I’m full of myself, when you’re exactly the same. When we aren’t having sex, you treat me almost as if I’m beneath you, like you have to lower yourself just to speak to me. Well guess what, buddy? You and I are on the same level. I’m your equal. I’ve never claimed to be better than you, and I never will.
I came to you already knowing that you would be as cold as ice towards me. I came to you knowing that you wouldn’t offer friendship or anything beyond that. I came to you knowing that you would probably even be reluctant to have sex with me. I told you that first night at the hotel that I enjoy a challenge, and that statement still stands.
You can’t play these games forever, Reita. You can’t always tell yourself that there’s nothing but sex in our future. You can’t always tell yourself that you and I aren’t compatible as anything other than fuckbuddies. Like I said, I don’t take no for an answer. You can’t always push me away. You can’t always have sex with me, and then act like it means nothing. Because it does, whether either of us wants it to or not.
Sometimes, I wonder if you hate me. But there’s something that I see in your eyes every now and again - just before you hide it and replace it with that cold stare - that makes me believe otherwise. I want to know what you’re hiding. I want to know what you really feel. I want to know these things, and that’s what makes me come back to you again and again.
Well, that and the really great sex.
I don’t know what this is that I feel for you. For the most part, I wish I didn’t feel this way. I wish I didn’t want to curl against you and stay by your side. I almost wish it were someone else and not you that I decided to focus my attention on. There are people out there who would probably throw themselves at the chance to sleep with me, and they probably wouldn’t treat me the way that you do. I know this. I know this just as well as I know that I’m free to go out and fuck anyone I please, or enter into a relationship with anyone that I please.
But there’s only you. There’s just you, and no-one else. Maybe I’m stupid for feeling this way. I’ve entertained the thought of giving up on this not-relationship several times, but each time, I come up with an excuse not to. The one I tend to use most often is: ‘the sex is just too good.’ I can’t tell you that, though. Don’t wanna inflate your ego.
I wish I could hate you, but I can’t. I’ve tried. I think I sometimes hate myself, though, just because of how I let you affect me.
I feel like I need you… like I need this - like I need to lie beside you like this and listen to your heavy breathing after we’ve had sex. It’s ridiculous, because I’ve lived without you just fine up to this point. I’ve lived without this. I try to tell myself that it’s just the hormones talking, but I know there’s more to it than that.
And I know that you know it too, Reita. Neither of us shows it, but we both know that there’s something else going on. It’s bigger than both of us, and it’s intangible - maybe we’re only catching glimpses of it right now, but I’m of the firm belief that we have to stick with it, to see it through and try to look at the bigger picture here, because I know it exists.
I must feel like rolling the dice - taking a chance - tonight. Even as we’re still waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with us, I roll over, whispering, “I hate you” as I curl against your side and rest my head on your shoulder. I don’t mean it, and I know that you know I don’t mean it.
You tense for just an instant - no doubt wondering what the hell you’re meant to do - before you wrap an arm around me. You’re holding me, and you’ve never done that before. Then again, I’ve never tried to instigate such an action. You seem okay with it, and it feels good to have you holding me. I almost hate to admit it, but it’s true.
You startle me when you speak. The most startling thing, however, is what you say, instead of the act of speaking itself. “No you don’t.”
I think I’m almost stunned. Congratulations, Reita. You have managed to make me momentarily speechless.
I finally manage to find words, though, and I look at you and grin. “You’re right,” I reply. “Sometimes, I wish that I could hate you. But really… I actually kinda like you.”
You don’t say anything, but you don’t look away from me either, which is what you typically do when I try to talk or something right after we’ve had sex. That look is in your eyes again. I can’t identify it right now, but I’m pretty sure that I have time to figure out just what that look means.
I rest my head back on your shoulder and sigh contentedly, closing my eyes. I feel your fingers begin to wander down my side - it doesn’t feel like a sexual gesture, either. It just feels like you’re… experimenting… like you’re finding out what it feels like just to hold me and touch me like this. It makes me smile.
Ice eventually melts when exposed to warmth, no matter how cold said ice is before the exposure.
Ice melts, and I think that cold exterior of yours is capable of melting, too.
~END~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for reading, as always. ^__^ And I leave this to say:
Take a look at my new layout~! Isn't it so prettyful? _newworld.
Author: Kagome
Theme: #14 - Cold
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Miyavi (solo)/Reita (GazettE)
Disclaimer: Standard disclaimer applies.
Summary: Miyavi knew exactly what he was getting into from the very first moment he approached Reita. But did that stop him, and does it keep him from believing that things might eventually change?
Comments: Well, this is it. The other sidestory for Transition, and it takes place at the end of Chapter Five. I suppose this is also a fic that can stand quite well on its own, but it makes much more sense if you’ve read at least up to the fifth chapter of Transition. This one’s in Miyavi’s POV, and when I saw the theme for ‘cold’, I just knew that it would really fit Miyavi’s train of thought for that part of the fic. Hope you guys like it~. ^_^
Ice
From the first moment that I met you, I knew you were that type - the type that doesn’t let people in easily, the type that pushes others away without a second thought. You’re the type of person that has to remain perfectly in control of the situation; you’re the type of person that wouldn’t bother getting emotionally involved with someone like me.
You have such a cold personality. You’re like ice, whether you know it or not. You calculate everything - even this… this thing that’s between us. You’ve narrowed it down to lust and you’re attempting to leave absolutely no room for anything else; you tell yourself that there’s nothing else between you and me. There’s no love, there’s no friendship. There’s nothing but sex between us. I think that’s the way you wanted it, from the very beginning.
No, wait. You didn’t even want this, did you? You didn’t want to feel desire for me. I knew that very first night we had sex - you wanted me, but you wanted to push me away at the same time. I knew that, and still, I wanted you.
From the moment we first met, I was drawn to you. I wanted to see if I could crawl under your skin - make you bring out that side of yourself that you kept hidden. I wanted to make you lose control, since you seem to like control so much.
I bet you didn’t expect that I would be so stubborn. I’m like you, in that sense, I think. I don’t take no for an answer. I get what I want, in the end. I don’t let people push me around, either. If you push, I don’t take it, Reita. I push back. You know that by now, don’t you?
It’s funny… You tell me that I’m the narcissist. You tell me that I’m full of myself, when you’re exactly the same. When we aren’t having sex, you treat me almost as if I’m beneath you, like you have to lower yourself just to speak to me. Well guess what, buddy? You and I are on the same level. I’m your equal. I’ve never claimed to be better than you, and I never will.
I came to you already knowing that you would be as cold as ice towards me. I came to you knowing that you wouldn’t offer friendship or anything beyond that. I came to you knowing that you would probably even be reluctant to have sex with me. I told you that first night at the hotel that I enjoy a challenge, and that statement still stands.
You can’t play these games forever, Reita. You can’t always tell yourself that there’s nothing but sex in our future. You can’t always tell yourself that you and I aren’t compatible as anything other than fuckbuddies. Like I said, I don’t take no for an answer. You can’t always push me away. You can’t always have sex with me, and then act like it means nothing. Because it does, whether either of us wants it to or not.
Sometimes, I wonder if you hate me. But there’s something that I see in your eyes every now and again - just before you hide it and replace it with that cold stare - that makes me believe otherwise. I want to know what you’re hiding. I want to know what you really feel. I want to know these things, and that’s what makes me come back to you again and again.
Well, that and the really great sex.
I don’t know what this is that I feel for you. For the most part, I wish I didn’t feel this way. I wish I didn’t want to curl against you and stay by your side. I almost wish it were someone else and not you that I decided to focus my attention on. There are people out there who would probably throw themselves at the chance to sleep with me, and they probably wouldn’t treat me the way that you do. I know this. I know this just as well as I know that I’m free to go out and fuck anyone I please, or enter into a relationship with anyone that I please.
But there’s only you. There’s just you, and no-one else. Maybe I’m stupid for feeling this way. I’ve entertained the thought of giving up on this not-relationship several times, but each time, I come up with an excuse not to. The one I tend to use most often is: ‘the sex is just too good.’ I can’t tell you that, though. Don’t wanna inflate your ego.
I wish I could hate you, but I can’t. I’ve tried. I think I sometimes hate myself, though, just because of how I let you affect me.
I feel like I need you… like I need this - like I need to lie beside you like this and listen to your heavy breathing after we’ve had sex. It’s ridiculous, because I’ve lived without you just fine up to this point. I’ve lived without this. I try to tell myself that it’s just the hormones talking, but I know there’s more to it than that.
And I know that you know it too, Reita. Neither of us shows it, but we both know that there’s something else going on. It’s bigger than both of us, and it’s intangible - maybe we’re only catching glimpses of it right now, but I’m of the firm belief that we have to stick with it, to see it through and try to look at the bigger picture here, because I know it exists.
I must feel like rolling the dice - taking a chance - tonight. Even as we’re still waiting for the rest of the world to catch up with us, I roll over, whispering, “I hate you” as I curl against your side and rest my head on your shoulder. I don’t mean it, and I know that you know I don’t mean it.
You tense for just an instant - no doubt wondering what the hell you’re meant to do - before you wrap an arm around me. You’re holding me, and you’ve never done that before. Then again, I’ve never tried to instigate such an action. You seem okay with it, and it feels good to have you holding me. I almost hate to admit it, but it’s true.
You startle me when you speak. The most startling thing, however, is what you say, instead of the act of speaking itself. “No you don’t.”
I think I’m almost stunned. Congratulations, Reita. You have managed to make me momentarily speechless.
I finally manage to find words, though, and I look at you and grin. “You’re right,” I reply. “Sometimes, I wish that I could hate you. But really… I actually kinda like you.”
You don’t say anything, but you don’t look away from me either, which is what you typically do when I try to talk or something right after we’ve had sex. That look is in your eyes again. I can’t identify it right now, but I’m pretty sure that I have time to figure out just what that look means.
I rest my head back on your shoulder and sigh contentedly, closing my eyes. I feel your fingers begin to wander down my side - it doesn’t feel like a sexual gesture, either. It just feels like you’re… experimenting… like you’re finding out what it feels like just to hold me and touch me like this. It makes me smile.
Ice eventually melts when exposed to warmth, no matter how cold said ice is before the exposure.
Ice melts, and I think that cold exterior of yours is capable of melting, too.
~END~
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for reading, as always. ^__^ And I leave this to say:
Take a look at my new layout~! Isn't it so prettyful? _newworld.