Brightly Wound 04
“Maya?”
Miyavi breathed lightly against Maya, who was regaining his strength by using his friend as a support, leaning on his shoulder and slouching against the wall. He was still shaking slightly, recovering from his orgasm, but when Maya didn’t respond, Miyavi nudged him slightly and spoke a little louder.
“Maya? Are you alright?”
But the shaking didn’t stop; in fact, it seemed to worsen, and Maya once again ignored him and buried his face further into the clothed shoulder as Miyavi cocked his head curiously, wondering if Maya could possibly be…
“Maya…” Miyavi placed his hand on the back of his friends head and felt his conformations when he realized Maya’s whole body was shaking. Not with post-orgasmic reactions, however, but with hot, shameful tears. Miyavi didn’t hesitate in wrapping his arms around Maya’s frame, holding him close as silent sobs racked the vocalists body.
They stayed like that for several minutes before Miyavi felt the tears slowing and chanced the opportunity to speak.
“Are you ashamed? Because you thought of him?”
Maya swallowed several times before turning his head to let his face rest against Miyavi’s shoulder, rather than pressing into it. “I’m ashamed…” he started, face flush with salty tears. “I’m ashamed because he… he wouldn’t want me to.”
Miyavi ran his hand through Maya’s hair delicately, mulling over what was best to say. He didn’t want to upset Maya anymore, but he knew Maya was one to take a positively hopeless view on things, if only in secret. Rather than strive for the impossible during difficult situations, Maya would accept the things he couldn’t reach and watch them pass by quietly, almost sadly, but with a surly sort of happiness that he did the best he ever could.
Somehow, though, Miyavi didn’t think Maya would be able to overlook this one. So rather than encourage something he knew he didn‘t have both sides on, he chose to let Maya talk about it, at least to get his mind off of what had just happened.
“What started it, Maayatan?” he asked gently, careful to avoid any tangles in Maya’s hair as he ran his nimble fingers through it.
Maya sniffed and tried to compose himself, wiping his face on his shirt and zipping up his pants. “I… I can’t be sure,” he muttered, sighing and lifted his head back in thought. “There was something once, almost a year ago. I still didn’t feel like I knew him back then, you know? He was still so distant.” He gave a fond sort of smile at the memories, however unpleasant they may have been, before continuing.
“We got into sort of a fight, I guess. A fake argument. I accused him of not caring, and fell asleep on the couch of the studio we were in. I woke up warm... He had given me his jacket while I slept. I just…” He smiled again. “It was sort of a breakthrough, you know? We never discussed it. It just was. We got along better, he smiled more, I loosened up and tried not to take his nonchalant attitude so seriously.”
Miyavi smiled at the image, voicing his thoughts. “But it wouldn’t have felt the same if someone like me had done it, would it? There was something…”
“More,” Maya finished for him, nodding. A small silence fell between them before he met Miyavi’s eyes. “Miyavi, I know why you did this, and I appreciate it, I do. I’m glad I don’t have to hold it in, but… I need to learn to. I can’t keep letting it get a hold of me like this.”
He paused, sighed, shook his head. “No, no there’s that girl… the wardrobe one, I think she likes me. I should just--”
Maya stopped when a hand was clapped over his mouth, and he found himself looking straight into Miyavi’s stern eyes.
“Don’t start with that,“ he said, before his harsh expression softened. “I’m disappointed in you, Maya,” he spoke sadly. “When you were with me, you would go after anything you wanted, and nothing would get in your way once you knew you could have it.” He grinned. “This is just another one of those times, baby.”
Maya managed to tear Miyavi’s hand away from his mouth, sputtering slightly. “But it’s not another one of those times, Miyavi! This is different! If I fuck up, this whole setup that we have here, this whole band is fucking blown! And I can’t see Aiji ever even--”
“Aiji cares so much for you, Maya,” Miyavi protested, “And you can’t see it because you’re the object of his affections, and it’s so easily blown off as brotherly love, or whatever the fuck you want to call it,” Miyavi added as an afterthought. “I really don’t know how you two get along, actually, but that’s the amazing part of it. You think that you two people, so entirely different, so diverse, could ever be as close as you two are?”
Maya didn’t answer, so Miyavi continued.
“Love is both emotional and physical Maya, you know that. And Aiji’s halfway there; he has the emotional attachment down, trust me. With the subtle threats I was given, there’s no doubt,” he snarled, and Maya chuckled lightly.
Miyavi held him out at arms length and met his eyes, and once again Maya was reminded of those nights they shared together, and each shameless morning followed by shitty room service. The trust he had in this man measured up with no other, but he still couldn’t banish the doubts. The nerves. The whole severity of the situation.
Miyavi must have noticed the uncertainty on Maya‘s face. “Maya, listen to me. Aiji can’t see what he has because it’s right in front of his face. It’s that whole “blind love” thing people talk about. And I don’t know if the jealous rage he gets worked up is because he doesn’t want to see you hurt, or because he’d rather be the one macking on you, but it doesn’t matter. They’re both a start.”
A long silence passed between them yet again, Maya biting his lip as Miyavi stared him down, waiting for a reaction until Maya couldn’t take it anymore and burst into giggles.
“I think that’s the most inspirational bullshit you’ve ever said in one sitting!” Maya laughed, and Miyavi backed up, looking appropriately offended.
“Hey, it’s your love life, but okay, if you want to call it a load of bullshit, that’s fine,” Miyavi retorted, smiling as he turned away to put his lip ring back in. “But I’m sure Aiji will prove to be such a bore after you’ve had me so many times.”
“Oooh, I doubt it,” Maya laughed, fixing his shirt and walking to the mirror to straighten his hair. “You know what they say about the quiet ones being the freaks in bed.”
Miyavi shrugged. “Too true. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever made you scream as loud as you just did.”
Maya blushed and opened his mouth to reply, but his attention was distracted as he gazed at the floor.
“Ew. Should we clean that up?” he asked, motioning to the stain on the carpet. Miyavi looked over with little interest and made a face.
“Nah. Make them wonder.”
---
Aiji wasn’t there when they came back, and after several attempts to reach him on his cell phone, one of engineers popped his head out of the back room and said Aiji’s ringtone was really irritating, and they’d appreciate it if Maya stopped calling, because it was obvious Aiji wasn’t here and wasn’t going to answer.
Trying to ignore the hurt expression on Maya’s face, because it made his insides ache every time he glimpsed it, Miyavi pulled him into a hug.
“I’m going back to the apartment to try and find him,” Miyavi told him quietly. “You need to finish this song.”
Maya nodded and sighed. “He’ll be so happy to see you…” he muttered, smirking slightly, though his eyes still held that calm disappointment that made Miyavi absolutely vivid at Aiji for disappointing his bandmate like this.
“I’ll be back,” Miyavi promised, before heading out the door, leaving Maya alone, tangled, and worried.
---
He knew Aiji was inside, the bastard just refused to open up. He knocked again, a little more harshly.
“Aiji-san, open the door. You know they need you at recording.”
No answer. Miyavi sighed, wondering how the more mature member of their group could often be the most childish when it truly mattered. He pounded his fist on the door, becoming more and more annoyed at Aiji.
He wanted to like the guy. He really really did.
“Aiji, stop being such a bitch and get back to the studio! Your music is priority, not your jealousy.”
To his surprise, the door actually opened, and he opened his lips to mouth off to the guitarist, but Aiji pulled him inside with one swift tug. He managed to get a quick glance around the dark room and admire Aiji’s ability to be the complete opposite of Maya and have his things still neatly organized before he felt the stinging sensation of fist on skin.
He stumbled backwards and rubbed his jaw gently, wiping the stars from his eyes.
“Okay, who taught you common sense?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in anger. “I’m like a fucking foot taller than you and you want to start a fight?! Granted, you do have more of an attitude problem, but still…” he checked his mouth for blood, finding none. “Damn kid.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Aiji asked, crossing his arms.
Miyavi flexed his jaw experimentally. “Are you going to punch me again?”
“I might.”
Miyavi shrugged. “Fair enough. But I do think I’m entitled to ask why you did it in the first place. Did my talking irritate you? I was under the impression that I had a good voice, but it’s cool if you disagree. To each their own.”
He knew he was asking for a bruise on the other side as well, but he couldn’t help it. Aiji’s attitude just begged for his sarcasm. Aiji, not surprisingly, didn’t appreciate the humour.
“You just think you can fuck whomever you want, don’t you?” Aiji asked coldly, hatred spewing from his voice as he stared Miyavi down.
“Contrary to popular belief, I barely ever think about fucking anymore, and I give much less time to actually doing it. I doubt I could get anybody I wanted into bed though. Say I wanted to fuck you, for example--”
“I heard you in that room.”
Miyavi’s throat went dry and any smart remark he had wanted to make vanished. Guilt swarmed inside of him and he felt a hot heat of embarrassment; not for himself, but for Maya. He had no problem with damaging his relationship with Aiji, but knowing how humiliated Maya would feel if Aiji knew… he hadn’t planned for this.
“You…?” he asked quietly, “How much did you hear?”
“I heard enough.” Aiji spat, looking ready to strike Miyavi again. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
Miyavi paused. He was sure that if Aiji had heard everything his reaction would be much different. It wouldn’t be Miyavi his attention was focused on, but Maya and his brash admittance. Could it be possibly Aiji didn’t stay long enough to hear?
One look at Aiji’s furious expression told Miyavi he only caught a glimpse of what happened earlier. Knowing he could use this to his advantage, he played along with Aiji’s rage and the venom that seemed to be passing through his veins. Hate, passion, jealousy… Aiji was cracking.
“You couldn’t even wait until you were out of the studio, could you? I bet…” Aiji stuttered, his hands shaking. “I bet you didn’t even wait that long! I bet you fucked him last night! And before he introduced us! How many times, Miyavi?!”
Even though he knew the truth of what was going on, Miyavi still felt hurt. And even though he knew Aiji was spitting out words as a way to hide his emotions, and some of them truly meant nothing, he couldn’t help but feel hurt that Aiji thought of him that way, even if only in a fit of rage.
“I didn’t… fuck him.” Miyavi said quietly. He hated using that word in a reference to sex outside of the bedroom. It was so terribly condescending, and he couldn’t stand it.
“I hate you,” Aiji laughed softly, his voice so disbelieving, and Miyavi looked up. He hadn’t expected something so rash from Aiji’s mouth, and least of all something so childish. “I hate you so much, I just can’t… I could barely get over it when you weren’t here, what the both of you did together, and now that you’re around him, re-enacting everything like I’m your personal audience, I…” he went quiet, and put his head in his hand.
“Aiji, it’s not like that, I swear,” Miyavi pleaded, desperate to get this soap opera drama over with and convince Aiji that he was wrong. So wrong. “We’re friends, you know we only--”
“I was so close…” Aiji muttered, his anger deepening his voice, and Miyavi swallowed. “I was so close to… you’re so careless… if you hadn’t come along--”
“Aiji--”
“HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!” Aiji screamed, and Miyavi flinched. “I was supposed to care for him and watch out for him! To make sure shit like you didn’t use him and tear him up all over again!”
Miyavi stayed silent. He felt shame like he never had before. He knew Maya didn’t think about their relationship like that, but would others? If Aiji did… maybe he was fooling himself. He wanted to tell Aiji, the urge to let it spill off his lips was tearing him apart, but he knew it wasn’t his place.
“Aiji… I don’t know how to say anything to where you’ll believe me. You must think everything I tell you is complete bullshit, but… Maya and I are over. Completely and utterly. He doesn’t want me, and I won’t have him if he didn’t wish it.”
Aiji scoffed. “Yeah? And why wouldn’t your little Maayatan want the great, talented Miyavi?”
There it was. Aiji set himself up. Miyavi smirked and moved closer, finally feeling back on level ground and taking control of the situation while he still could. Aiji tensed and narrowed his eyes, clearing untrusting but curious nonetheless. Miyavi opened his mouth to speak, but the absolutely perfect opportunity was ruined as his phone went off in his pocket.
He sighed and pulled it out, moving to hang up on them, but his expression changed instantly when he realized who it was. Flipping it open, he stared directly at Aiji as he spoke, trying to conceal his grin.
“Maya-kun? Are you okay?”
Maya’s voice sounded so soft now, so dishevelled and lost when he answered. “Yeah, but, um. Did you find Aiji-kun?”
Miyavi saw Aiji’s fingers twitch and knew he was dying to shout something so Maya could hear it, but he stayed silent, and Miyavi knew he wanted to hear rather than be heard.
“Yeah, I found him. He’s on his way back to the studio right now.”
“Oh good,” Maya sighed, sounding utterly relieved. “I just, hmm, this is ridiculous you know,” he chuckled again, his breathing erratic like his heart had been beating too quickly. “I can’t sing as well if he’s not here with me. You know? It‘s like… I need him or the music doesn‘t feel quite as right. …I don‘t feel quite as right.”
Miyavi could have died at the look on Aiji’s face when he heard that. The anger vanished instantly to be replaced by a slightly shocked expression, and Miyavi knew they weren’t the kind of bandmates to openly vocalize compassion.
“I know Maya,” he answered. “The two of us will be right over there.”
And he hung up, looking back at Maya with an achieved sort of smile, but Aiji hardly noticed. His mouth was hanging open slightly and it took him several seconds to realize Miyavi was in the room with him. When he did, however, his expression didn’t change, and Miyavi seized his chance.
“Why doesn’t Maya want me anymore?” he asked with a smirk, leaning in close to whisper against Aiji’s skin, and the musician in front of him shivered and closed his eyes.
“Because it’s not my name he screamed when he came.”
---
Next chapter
An accompany piece, written by kiri_ka in Aiji's perspective, can be found here at her writing journal, sadisticfiction
Also, the story Maya mentioned in this was wonderfully written for me by kiri_ka, and can be found here, also in her writing journal.
Miyavi breathed lightly against Maya, who was regaining his strength by using his friend as a support, leaning on his shoulder and slouching against the wall. He was still shaking slightly, recovering from his orgasm, but when Maya didn’t respond, Miyavi nudged him slightly and spoke a little louder.
“Maya? Are you alright?”
But the shaking didn’t stop; in fact, it seemed to worsen, and Maya once again ignored him and buried his face further into the clothed shoulder as Miyavi cocked his head curiously, wondering if Maya could possibly be…
“Maya…” Miyavi placed his hand on the back of his friends head and felt his conformations when he realized Maya’s whole body was shaking. Not with post-orgasmic reactions, however, but with hot, shameful tears. Miyavi didn’t hesitate in wrapping his arms around Maya’s frame, holding him close as silent sobs racked the vocalists body.
They stayed like that for several minutes before Miyavi felt the tears slowing and chanced the opportunity to speak.
“Are you ashamed? Because you thought of him?”
Maya swallowed several times before turning his head to let his face rest against Miyavi’s shoulder, rather than pressing into it. “I’m ashamed…” he started, face flush with salty tears. “I’m ashamed because he… he wouldn’t want me to.”
Miyavi ran his hand through Maya’s hair delicately, mulling over what was best to say. He didn’t want to upset Maya anymore, but he knew Maya was one to take a positively hopeless view on things, if only in secret. Rather than strive for the impossible during difficult situations, Maya would accept the things he couldn’t reach and watch them pass by quietly, almost sadly, but with a surly sort of happiness that he did the best he ever could.
Somehow, though, Miyavi didn’t think Maya would be able to overlook this one. So rather than encourage something he knew he didn‘t have both sides on, he chose to let Maya talk about it, at least to get his mind off of what had just happened.
“What started it, Maayatan?” he asked gently, careful to avoid any tangles in Maya’s hair as he ran his nimble fingers through it.
Maya sniffed and tried to compose himself, wiping his face on his shirt and zipping up his pants. “I… I can’t be sure,” he muttered, sighing and lifted his head back in thought. “There was something once, almost a year ago. I still didn’t feel like I knew him back then, you know? He was still so distant.” He gave a fond sort of smile at the memories, however unpleasant they may have been, before continuing.
“We got into sort of a fight, I guess. A fake argument. I accused him of not caring, and fell asleep on the couch of the studio we were in. I woke up warm... He had given me his jacket while I slept. I just…” He smiled again. “It was sort of a breakthrough, you know? We never discussed it. It just was. We got along better, he smiled more, I loosened up and tried not to take his nonchalant attitude so seriously.”
Miyavi smiled at the image, voicing his thoughts. “But it wouldn’t have felt the same if someone like me had done it, would it? There was something…”
“More,” Maya finished for him, nodding. A small silence fell between them before he met Miyavi’s eyes. “Miyavi, I know why you did this, and I appreciate it, I do. I’m glad I don’t have to hold it in, but… I need to learn to. I can’t keep letting it get a hold of me like this.”
He paused, sighed, shook his head. “No, no there’s that girl… the wardrobe one, I think she likes me. I should just--”
Maya stopped when a hand was clapped over his mouth, and he found himself looking straight into Miyavi’s stern eyes.
“Don’t start with that,“ he said, before his harsh expression softened. “I’m disappointed in you, Maya,” he spoke sadly. “When you were with me, you would go after anything you wanted, and nothing would get in your way once you knew you could have it.” He grinned. “This is just another one of those times, baby.”
Maya managed to tear Miyavi’s hand away from his mouth, sputtering slightly. “But it’s not another one of those times, Miyavi! This is different! If I fuck up, this whole setup that we have here, this whole band is fucking blown! And I can’t see Aiji ever even--”
“Aiji cares so much for you, Maya,” Miyavi protested, “And you can’t see it because you’re the object of his affections, and it’s so easily blown off as brotherly love, or whatever the fuck you want to call it,” Miyavi added as an afterthought. “I really don’t know how you two get along, actually, but that’s the amazing part of it. You think that you two people, so entirely different, so diverse, could ever be as close as you two are?”
Maya didn’t answer, so Miyavi continued.
“Love is both emotional and physical Maya, you know that. And Aiji’s halfway there; he has the emotional attachment down, trust me. With the subtle threats I was given, there’s no doubt,” he snarled, and Maya chuckled lightly.
Miyavi held him out at arms length and met his eyes, and once again Maya was reminded of those nights they shared together, and each shameless morning followed by shitty room service. The trust he had in this man measured up with no other, but he still couldn’t banish the doubts. The nerves. The whole severity of the situation.
Miyavi must have noticed the uncertainty on Maya‘s face. “Maya, listen to me. Aiji can’t see what he has because it’s right in front of his face. It’s that whole “blind love” thing people talk about. And I don’t know if the jealous rage he gets worked up is because he doesn’t want to see you hurt, or because he’d rather be the one macking on you, but it doesn’t matter. They’re both a start.”
A long silence passed between them yet again, Maya biting his lip as Miyavi stared him down, waiting for a reaction until Maya couldn’t take it anymore and burst into giggles.
“I think that’s the most inspirational bullshit you’ve ever said in one sitting!” Maya laughed, and Miyavi backed up, looking appropriately offended.
“Hey, it’s your love life, but okay, if you want to call it a load of bullshit, that’s fine,” Miyavi retorted, smiling as he turned away to put his lip ring back in. “But I’m sure Aiji will prove to be such a bore after you’ve had me so many times.”
“Oooh, I doubt it,” Maya laughed, fixing his shirt and walking to the mirror to straighten his hair. “You know what they say about the quiet ones being the freaks in bed.”
Miyavi shrugged. “Too true. Hell, I don’t think I’ve ever made you scream as loud as you just did.”
Maya blushed and opened his mouth to reply, but his attention was distracted as he gazed at the floor.
“Ew. Should we clean that up?” he asked, motioning to the stain on the carpet. Miyavi looked over with little interest and made a face.
“Nah. Make them wonder.”
---
Aiji wasn’t there when they came back, and after several attempts to reach him on his cell phone, one of engineers popped his head out of the back room and said Aiji’s ringtone was really irritating, and they’d appreciate it if Maya stopped calling, because it was obvious Aiji wasn’t here and wasn’t going to answer.
Trying to ignore the hurt expression on Maya’s face, because it made his insides ache every time he glimpsed it, Miyavi pulled him into a hug.
“I’m going back to the apartment to try and find him,” Miyavi told him quietly. “You need to finish this song.”
Maya nodded and sighed. “He’ll be so happy to see you…” he muttered, smirking slightly, though his eyes still held that calm disappointment that made Miyavi absolutely vivid at Aiji for disappointing his bandmate like this.
“I’ll be back,” Miyavi promised, before heading out the door, leaving Maya alone, tangled, and worried.
---
He knew Aiji was inside, the bastard just refused to open up. He knocked again, a little more harshly.
“Aiji-san, open the door. You know they need you at recording.”
No answer. Miyavi sighed, wondering how the more mature member of their group could often be the most childish when it truly mattered. He pounded his fist on the door, becoming more and more annoyed at Aiji.
He wanted to like the guy. He really really did.
“Aiji, stop being such a bitch and get back to the studio! Your music is priority, not your jealousy.”
To his surprise, the door actually opened, and he opened his lips to mouth off to the guitarist, but Aiji pulled him inside with one swift tug. He managed to get a quick glance around the dark room and admire Aiji’s ability to be the complete opposite of Maya and have his things still neatly organized before he felt the stinging sensation of fist on skin.
He stumbled backwards and rubbed his jaw gently, wiping the stars from his eyes.
“Okay, who taught you common sense?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in anger. “I’m like a fucking foot taller than you and you want to start a fight?! Granted, you do have more of an attitude problem, but still…” he checked his mouth for blood, finding none. “Damn kid.”
“What the fuck do you want?” Aiji asked, crossing his arms.
Miyavi flexed his jaw experimentally. “Are you going to punch me again?”
“I might.”
Miyavi shrugged. “Fair enough. But I do think I’m entitled to ask why you did it in the first place. Did my talking irritate you? I was under the impression that I had a good voice, but it’s cool if you disagree. To each their own.”
He knew he was asking for a bruise on the other side as well, but he couldn’t help it. Aiji’s attitude just begged for his sarcasm. Aiji, not surprisingly, didn’t appreciate the humour.
“You just think you can fuck whomever you want, don’t you?” Aiji asked coldly, hatred spewing from his voice as he stared Miyavi down.
“Contrary to popular belief, I barely ever think about fucking anymore, and I give much less time to actually doing it. I doubt I could get anybody I wanted into bed though. Say I wanted to fuck you, for example--”
“I heard you in that room.”
Miyavi’s throat went dry and any smart remark he had wanted to make vanished. Guilt swarmed inside of him and he felt a hot heat of embarrassment; not for himself, but for Maya. He had no problem with damaging his relationship with Aiji, but knowing how humiliated Maya would feel if Aiji knew… he hadn’t planned for this.
“You…?” he asked quietly, “How much did you hear?”
“I heard enough.” Aiji spat, looking ready to strike Miyavi again. “You don’t waste time, do you?”
Miyavi paused. He was sure that if Aiji had heard everything his reaction would be much different. It wouldn’t be Miyavi his attention was focused on, but Maya and his brash admittance. Could it be possibly Aiji didn’t stay long enough to hear?
One look at Aiji’s furious expression told Miyavi he only caught a glimpse of what happened earlier. Knowing he could use this to his advantage, he played along with Aiji’s rage and the venom that seemed to be passing through his veins. Hate, passion, jealousy… Aiji was cracking.
“You couldn’t even wait until you were out of the studio, could you? I bet…” Aiji stuttered, his hands shaking. “I bet you didn’t even wait that long! I bet you fucked him last night! And before he introduced us! How many times, Miyavi?!”
Even though he knew the truth of what was going on, Miyavi still felt hurt. And even though he knew Aiji was spitting out words as a way to hide his emotions, and some of them truly meant nothing, he couldn’t help but feel hurt that Aiji thought of him that way, even if only in a fit of rage.
“I didn’t… fuck him.” Miyavi said quietly. He hated using that word in a reference to sex outside of the bedroom. It was so terribly condescending, and he couldn’t stand it.
“I hate you,” Aiji laughed softly, his voice so disbelieving, and Miyavi looked up. He hadn’t expected something so rash from Aiji’s mouth, and least of all something so childish. “I hate you so much, I just can’t… I could barely get over it when you weren’t here, what the both of you did together, and now that you’re around him, re-enacting everything like I’m your personal audience, I…” he went quiet, and put his head in his hand.
“Aiji, it’s not like that, I swear,” Miyavi pleaded, desperate to get this soap opera drama over with and convince Aiji that he was wrong. So wrong. “We’re friends, you know we only--”
“I was so close…” Aiji muttered, his anger deepening his voice, and Miyavi swallowed. “I was so close to… you’re so careless… if you hadn’t come along--”
“Aiji--”
“HE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE MINE!” Aiji screamed, and Miyavi flinched. “I was supposed to care for him and watch out for him! To make sure shit like you didn’t use him and tear him up all over again!”
Miyavi stayed silent. He felt shame like he never had before. He knew Maya didn’t think about their relationship like that, but would others? If Aiji did… maybe he was fooling himself. He wanted to tell Aiji, the urge to let it spill off his lips was tearing him apart, but he knew it wasn’t his place.
“Aiji… I don’t know how to say anything to where you’ll believe me. You must think everything I tell you is complete bullshit, but… Maya and I are over. Completely and utterly. He doesn’t want me, and I won’t have him if he didn’t wish it.”
Aiji scoffed. “Yeah? And why wouldn’t your little Maayatan want the great, talented Miyavi?”
There it was. Aiji set himself up. Miyavi smirked and moved closer, finally feeling back on level ground and taking control of the situation while he still could. Aiji tensed and narrowed his eyes, clearing untrusting but curious nonetheless. Miyavi opened his mouth to speak, but the absolutely perfect opportunity was ruined as his phone went off in his pocket.
He sighed and pulled it out, moving to hang up on them, but his expression changed instantly when he realized who it was. Flipping it open, he stared directly at Aiji as he spoke, trying to conceal his grin.
“Maya-kun? Are you okay?”
Maya’s voice sounded so soft now, so dishevelled and lost when he answered. “Yeah, but, um. Did you find Aiji-kun?”
Miyavi saw Aiji’s fingers twitch and knew he was dying to shout something so Maya could hear it, but he stayed silent, and Miyavi knew he wanted to hear rather than be heard.
“Yeah, I found him. He’s on his way back to the studio right now.”
“Oh good,” Maya sighed, sounding utterly relieved. “I just, hmm, this is ridiculous you know,” he chuckled again, his breathing erratic like his heart had been beating too quickly. “I can’t sing as well if he’s not here with me. You know? It‘s like… I need him or the music doesn‘t feel quite as right. …I don‘t feel quite as right.”
Miyavi could have died at the look on Aiji’s face when he heard that. The anger vanished instantly to be replaced by a slightly shocked expression, and Miyavi knew they weren’t the kind of bandmates to openly vocalize compassion.
“I know Maya,” he answered. “The two of us will be right over there.”
And he hung up, looking back at Maya with an achieved sort of smile, but Aiji hardly noticed. His mouth was hanging open slightly and it took him several seconds to realize Miyavi was in the room with him. When he did, however, his expression didn’t change, and Miyavi seized his chance.
“Why doesn’t Maya want me anymore?” he asked with a smirk, leaning in close to whisper against Aiji’s skin, and the musician in front of him shivered and closed his eyes.
“Because it’s not my name he screamed when he came.”
---
Next chapter
An accompany piece, written by kiri_ka in Aiji's perspective, can be found here at her writing journal, sadisticfiction
Also, the story Maya mentioned in this was wonderfully written for me by kiri_ka, and can be found here, also in her writing journal.