Gazette Fic #2: Sometimes, I. [Part I]
Title: Sometimes, I. [Part I]
Author: Randix deathbyaccident
Genre: angst/drama
Ratings: PG
Pairings: Reita x Uruha
Synopsis: And it all started because of Reita's jacket with the green skull! (I initially said, green jacket with a black skull, but charlene-chan eatyou_alive said that it was more like the other way around. Teehee, thanks!)
Notes: This was inspired by this interview where Reita complained about Uruha not wanting to go out with him because of his sweater! (I swear I read it in reita_x_uruha but that entry wasn't there anymore! O_O So I decided to make a story out of it, and this is what happened. T_T
Comments: Yes, Onegai! @_@ Because I'm pretty sure I sucked, just writing randomly like this. . .
Sometimes, I.
Part I
“Are you done? Because I think we have tickets for tonight’s show, not tomorrow night’s.”
“Asshole.” Uruha annoyingly said under his breath, as he rummaged through layers of clothing in his closet, tossing random pieces of clothing into the already clothes-strewn floor. Damn, where was that gray jacket when he needed it the most? November nights in Tokyo could get bitterly cold, and the last thing he wanted was to freeze his ass to death, or worse - catch a cold.
He had been going through his stack of jackets for the past ten minutes, but that particular jacket - a gray Armani winter jacket, its collar lined with fur, with the inside and pockets padded with heavy but comfortable cotton - that he had intended to wear was nowhere to be found. And no, he was not going to wear anything else, because the gray shirt and silky pants that he was wearing right now went perfect only with that jacket, and he wasn’t in the mood to mix-and-match anymore.
Besides, he doubted if he could take another of Reita’s sarcastic jokes, although sometimes it made him inexplicably happy to annoy him. Sure, he had been amused for the first five minutes of making Reita wait outside his door, but now, he’s just getting frustrated as well. Uruha glanced at his watch. 6:45 in the evening. 30 more minutes before the movie starts, which also meant that they really should be going now, because they both absolutely hated not catching the very beginning of the movie - even though it was only just the opening credits.
But there were just days - those days - when an uncomfortable feeling would be sitting at the pit of his stomach if he did not go with his initial plans - in this case, his planned outfit - no matter how ridiculous that sounds. Uruha knew very well that he would be bitching for the entire night if he goes out without that jacket. It was one of those habits that he had always wanted to about himself. Although some people thought of him to be spontaneous, he really did make plans - and stuck with them.
And he really didn’t want to feel awful tonight - not after he and Reita agreed to do something they haven’t done in a long time, like watching a movie and eating popcorn and pretending that they don’t have practice at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like today signified anything special - in fact, it was just another random day - until Uruha had mentioned that morning about watching a movie. And Reita acquiesced with enthusiasm. So out of a whim, Reita decided to reserve movie tickets that morning, and Uruha happily agreed to pay for the popcorn.
So yeah, he didn’t want to be bitching tonight. Uruha just wanted to feel like . . . any other normal person who’ll be watching a movie with his best friend, and just be dorks (he made a mental note to stuff some popcorn inside Reita’s shirt later when he’s too engrossed in the movie), even only for this night. It was such a rare chance that he might as well get the best out of it. Maybe he could even coax Reita to walk all the way home after the movie, and maybe they could pass by that small park where he remembered sending Reita flying off the swing because Uruha accidentally pushed the swing too hard. They were what, 11, 12 years old?
Poor Akira, sporting a really horrible bruise in his forehead, because he fell flat on his face in the ground! And he, Kouyou, who genuinely just wanted to make his best friend happy with a really great swing experience, almost wet his pants because Akira wouldn’t stop crying, and he was scared that his best friend’s mother would hit her with her kitchen broom. Ah, they were such dorks. He stifled a laugh. Right. No coaxing for tonight. He will force Reita to walk all the way home.
Which also meant that he needed to stop thinking about the toothy Kouyou-and-Akira days in the meantime, and find that jacket. Right now.
Groaning in frustration, he stopped his frantic searching and leaned his head on the closet door, trying to organize his thoughts. He remembered getting the jacket, with a bunch of their other clothes, from the cleaners last Thursday. That was about a week ago, and he doesn’t remember wearing it ever since.
It was his turn to get the clothes last Thursday, and he remembered it so well because he had whined about it for the whole afternoon, precisely because he didn’t want to do it. Mostly because they were all Reita’s clothes except for that single jacket, since he had gotten his the day before and purposefully left Reita’s just to annoy him. But he ended getting those clothes anyway. He even remembered almost tripping at the front door mat because he was juggling with his keys and his bag and the clothes, and he was so pissed that he just stormed into Reita’s room and threw the whole lot of it all over the bed -
“Uruha!” One loud sound of a heavy fist against his bedroom door. “Dammit.”
There! It’s in Reita’s room! Uruha slapped his forehead, half-annoyed with himself. Grabbing his bag and taking a last look at his reflection in the mirror - damn, that new eyeliner on him is just gorgeous - he opened the door, reminding himself that he’d have to clean up the mess on his floor later, before going to sleep.
Reita was standing by his doorway with his ever present noseband, shooting him one really annoyed look that Uruha had initially wanted to return, but he knew he had to be nice if he’d ask Reita’s permission to grab something from his room. A half-apologetic smile made its way to his face, and he thought of throwing some compliment just to appease his annoyed best friend. Perhaps something about his hair or his jacket -
The smile on Uruha’s face fell, and he grimaced as he shut his bedroom door behind him. The word “sorry” dissipated into thin air, and he whined like a disappointed child, “What the fuck are you wearing?!”
“Wha -“ The annoyance in the bassist’s face immediately turned into surprise, and for a while he stopped as if to wonder whether Uruha was actually talking to him. Then he looked at his clothes, his hands immediately checking whether there was some hole or dirt in his black shirt or jacket that he missed, or something equally horrible that elicited that kind of reaction from the other. But there was none.
Then Reita remembered.
He looked back up to Uruha, who had his arms crossed in front of him as if reprimanding a child, and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not changing jackets.”
“The hell you aren’t!” Uruha stomped off to Reita’s room, obviously displeased with Reita’s decision.
The bassist was wearing the black jacket that he absolutely abhorred - being worn on unofficial Gazette trips, that is. It wasn’t like Uruha didn’t like it, or it looked awful on Reita, because he thought that Reita always looked good, regardless of what he wore. But it was an official Gazette jacket - Reita had it custom-done - that had a huge green skull imprinted on its back.
Uruha hated it when he wore it on normal days, for a lot of reasons, although he couldn’t pinpoint which exactly it was. Maybe because it attracted too much attention. Or maybe because the huge skull print, around which Gazette’s name was coiled around, was so obvious that Reita might as well have worn neon blinking lights and brought along a marching band to announce his presence. Of course. Everyone recognized Reita’s Gazette jacket that sometimes, Uruha wondered whether there was a single fan that didn’t. There was even a time when they were just on their way home from a quick trip to the grocery, when a fan unfortunately recognized Reita - through that jacket - and what was supposed to be a 10-minute trip downtown for a pack of double-A batteries lasted for as long as three hours.
You can’t just turn down a horde of fan girls wanting your autograph, can you? That isn’t so nice. PSC would probably kill him if Uruha just threw a tantrum - if he was even capable of one - and scared all the fan girls off. After all, he did enjoy that impromptu session a little, since practice that day had also been tiring.
But he vehemently imprinted on his brain to never allow Reita to wear that on ordinary days.
Like, right now.
“What the hell are you - hey, that’s my closet!” Reita complained, running after Uruha who just barged into his room and whipped his closet open. It didn’t even take Uruha a full minute before spotting that gray jacket, the fur collar sticking out of all of Reita’s rather plain choice of wardrobe. He took it, and quickly grabbed another - a black leather jacket that he recognized as Kai’s birthday gift to Reita last year - and thrust it right into Reita’s face. Emotionless, he said, “Wear it. Now.”
Reita frowned, ignoring the leather jacket. “Are you insane? I’m gonna freeze to death with that one!”
“Fine.” Uruha acquiesced, throwing the jacket somewhere inside, which elicited a gasp from Reita because he was careful and well-organized when it comes to his closet. Uruha unceremoniously pulled a thicker black jacket - ah, perfect, Uruha thought - from underneath a layer of clothes, but the sudden movement caused the stack of clothes to tumble down the floo -
“What the fuck are you doing?” Reita asked, irritated, his voice taking a higher pitch that surprised even Uruha. None-too-gently he pulled his friend away from the cabinet, stuffed the fallen clothes inside and then shut it noisily.
No, no, no, Reita, Uruha could hear something screaming in his head. He didn’t know what exactly about that jacket that was making him upset at the moment, but he knew if Reita keeps it on for the whole night, he’d just go insane, like really insane. He didn’t know why, but . . . but . . . -
“You’re doing it again.” Reita said softly, the annoyance in his voice suddenly gone. Maybe because it was the pout that Uruha was wearing at the moment, or the ridiculousness of the entire situation - they were so close to arguing over a single piece of clothing, and Reita himself didn’t understand why. Perhaps Uruha didn’t know too, but the latter was just clearly upset about it.
“Doing what?” Uruha asked, frowning.
“I don’t know, freaking over somebody’s fashion sense?” Reita shrugged, rolling his eyes.
“What?!” Uruha’s eyes widened. How did anybody’s fashion sense get into the picture? He’s not that vain! Fine, he could get really vain but not about something like this. He didn’t even think of that, didn’t even remotely think of that! “I’m not freaking over -“
Reita pointed an accusing finger at Uruha. “This is the second time you’re doing it to me.”
“Yeah, and the first time, you took that jacket off, so you better take that off again.” Uruha remembered the first time. He had refused to walk downtown with Reita to find the shop where he could have his favorite boots repaired, unless Reita wore another jacket. The latter did. And had his boots repaired.
As if to annoy him, Reita smugly zipped the jacket up, and smiled. “Right. I thought you said you won’t be doing this again. You said that in the interview, remember?”
I did? Shit. God, this was such a silly conversation. Uruha felt silly. And stupid. What is it with Reita’s jacket? He just had the feeling the world is going to end for him if he sees it on Reita for the next few hours. But really, Uruha, you have to let this go - especially since there really was no point to this entire argument and Reita made clear that he’s not going to take it off, anyway. Just let it go.
Feeling a little dejected and more of an idiot each passing moment, Uruha clenched his fists before pouting. Then he threw his hands up in the air, before starting towards the door. “Fine. I don’t care anymore.”
Reita let out a loud sigh of relief before following his friend, taking a quick glance at his watch that revealed they still had 25 minutes before the movie starts. No matter how much he thought he knew Uruha, his best friend still confused him sometimes. How could he get so touchy with just a single jacket? And this particular jacket, at that. He wasn’t sure what happened back there, but he was glad that Uruha had given up on that request faster than he initially expected.
He knew that if Uruha pouted for 10 seconds more, he knew he’ll be taking off that damn thing.
Author: Randix deathbyaccident
Genre: angst/drama
Ratings: PG
Pairings: Reita x Uruha
Synopsis: And it all started because of Reita's jacket with the green skull! (I initially said, green jacket with a black skull, but charlene-chan eatyou_alive said that it was more like the other way around. Teehee, thanks!)
Notes: This was inspired by this interview where Reita complained about Uruha not wanting to go out with him because of his sweater! (I swear I read it in reita_x_uruha but that entry wasn't there anymore! O_O So I decided to make a story out of it, and this is what happened. T_T
Comments: Yes, Onegai! @_@ Because I'm pretty sure I sucked, just writing randomly like this. . .
Sometimes, I.
Part I
“Are you done? Because I think we have tickets for tonight’s show, not tomorrow night’s.”
“Asshole.” Uruha annoyingly said under his breath, as he rummaged through layers of clothing in his closet, tossing random pieces of clothing into the already clothes-strewn floor. Damn, where was that gray jacket when he needed it the most? November nights in Tokyo could get bitterly cold, and the last thing he wanted was to freeze his ass to death, or worse - catch a cold.
He had been going through his stack of jackets for the past ten minutes, but that particular jacket - a gray Armani winter jacket, its collar lined with fur, with the inside and pockets padded with heavy but comfortable cotton - that he had intended to wear was nowhere to be found. And no, he was not going to wear anything else, because the gray shirt and silky pants that he was wearing right now went perfect only with that jacket, and he wasn’t in the mood to mix-and-match anymore.
Besides, he doubted if he could take another of Reita’s sarcastic jokes, although sometimes it made him inexplicably happy to annoy him. Sure, he had been amused for the first five minutes of making Reita wait outside his door, but now, he’s just getting frustrated as well. Uruha glanced at his watch. 6:45 in the evening. 30 more minutes before the movie starts, which also meant that they really should be going now, because they both absolutely hated not catching the very beginning of the movie - even though it was only just the opening credits.
But there were just days - those days - when an uncomfortable feeling would be sitting at the pit of his stomach if he did not go with his initial plans - in this case, his planned outfit - no matter how ridiculous that sounds. Uruha knew very well that he would be bitching for the entire night if he goes out without that jacket. It was one of those habits that he had always wanted to about himself. Although some people thought of him to be spontaneous, he really did make plans - and stuck with them.
And he really didn’t want to feel awful tonight - not after he and Reita agreed to do something they haven’t done in a long time, like watching a movie and eating popcorn and pretending that they don’t have practice at 7:00 a.m. tomorrow morning. It wasn’t like today signified anything special - in fact, it was just another random day - until Uruha had mentioned that morning about watching a movie. And Reita acquiesced with enthusiasm. So out of a whim, Reita decided to reserve movie tickets that morning, and Uruha happily agreed to pay for the popcorn.
So yeah, he didn’t want to be bitching tonight. Uruha just wanted to feel like . . . any other normal person who’ll be watching a movie with his best friend, and just be dorks (he made a mental note to stuff some popcorn inside Reita’s shirt later when he’s too engrossed in the movie), even only for this night. It was such a rare chance that he might as well get the best out of it. Maybe he could even coax Reita to walk all the way home after the movie, and maybe they could pass by that small park where he remembered sending Reita flying off the swing because Uruha accidentally pushed the swing too hard. They were what, 11, 12 years old?
Poor Akira, sporting a really horrible bruise in his forehead, because he fell flat on his face in the ground! And he, Kouyou, who genuinely just wanted to make his best friend happy with a really great swing experience, almost wet his pants because Akira wouldn’t stop crying, and he was scared that his best friend’s mother would hit her with her kitchen broom. Ah, they were such dorks. He stifled a laugh. Right. No coaxing for tonight. He will force Reita to walk all the way home.
Which also meant that he needed to stop thinking about the toothy Kouyou-and-Akira days in the meantime, and find that jacket. Right now.
Groaning in frustration, he stopped his frantic searching and leaned his head on the closet door, trying to organize his thoughts. He remembered getting the jacket, with a bunch of their other clothes, from the cleaners last Thursday. That was about a week ago, and he doesn’t remember wearing it ever since.
It was his turn to get the clothes last Thursday, and he remembered it so well because he had whined about it for the whole afternoon, precisely because he didn’t want to do it. Mostly because they were all Reita’s clothes except for that single jacket, since he had gotten his the day before and purposefully left Reita’s just to annoy him. But he ended getting those clothes anyway. He even remembered almost tripping at the front door mat because he was juggling with his keys and his bag and the clothes, and he was so pissed that he just stormed into Reita’s room and threw the whole lot of it all over the bed -
“Uruha!” One loud sound of a heavy fist against his bedroom door. “Dammit.”
There! It’s in Reita’s room! Uruha slapped his forehead, half-annoyed with himself. Grabbing his bag and taking a last look at his reflection in the mirror - damn, that new eyeliner on him is just gorgeous - he opened the door, reminding himself that he’d have to clean up the mess on his floor later, before going to sleep.
Reita was standing by his doorway with his ever present noseband, shooting him one really annoyed look that Uruha had initially wanted to return, but he knew he had to be nice if he’d ask Reita’s permission to grab something from his room. A half-apologetic smile made its way to his face, and he thought of throwing some compliment just to appease his annoyed best friend. Perhaps something about his hair or his jacket -
The smile on Uruha’s face fell, and he grimaced as he shut his bedroom door behind him. The word “sorry” dissipated into thin air, and he whined like a disappointed child, “What the fuck are you wearing?!”
“Wha -“ The annoyance in the bassist’s face immediately turned into surprise, and for a while he stopped as if to wonder whether Uruha was actually talking to him. Then he looked at his clothes, his hands immediately checking whether there was some hole or dirt in his black shirt or jacket that he missed, or something equally horrible that elicited that kind of reaction from the other. But there was none.
Then Reita remembered.
He looked back up to Uruha, who had his arms crossed in front of him as if reprimanding a child, and narrowed his eyes. “I’m not changing jackets.”
“The hell you aren’t!” Uruha stomped off to Reita’s room, obviously displeased with Reita’s decision.
The bassist was wearing the black jacket that he absolutely abhorred - being worn on unofficial Gazette trips, that is. It wasn’t like Uruha didn’t like it, or it looked awful on Reita, because he thought that Reita always looked good, regardless of what he wore. But it was an official Gazette jacket - Reita had it custom-done - that had a huge green skull imprinted on its back.
Uruha hated it when he wore it on normal days, for a lot of reasons, although he couldn’t pinpoint which exactly it was. Maybe because it attracted too much attention. Or maybe because the huge skull print, around which Gazette’s name was coiled around, was so obvious that Reita might as well have worn neon blinking lights and brought along a marching band to announce his presence. Of course. Everyone recognized Reita’s Gazette jacket that sometimes, Uruha wondered whether there was a single fan that didn’t. There was even a time when they were just on their way home from a quick trip to the grocery, when a fan unfortunately recognized Reita - through that jacket - and what was supposed to be a 10-minute trip downtown for a pack of double-A batteries lasted for as long as three hours.
You can’t just turn down a horde of fan girls wanting your autograph, can you? That isn’t so nice. PSC would probably kill him if Uruha just threw a tantrum - if he was even capable of one - and scared all the fan girls off. After all, he did enjoy that impromptu session a little, since practice that day had also been tiring.
But he vehemently imprinted on his brain to never allow Reita to wear that on ordinary days.
Like, right now.
“What the hell are you - hey, that’s my closet!” Reita complained, running after Uruha who just barged into his room and whipped his closet open. It didn’t even take Uruha a full minute before spotting that gray jacket, the fur collar sticking out of all of Reita’s rather plain choice of wardrobe. He took it, and quickly grabbed another - a black leather jacket that he recognized as Kai’s birthday gift to Reita last year - and thrust it right into Reita’s face. Emotionless, he said, “Wear it. Now.”
Reita frowned, ignoring the leather jacket. “Are you insane? I’m gonna freeze to death with that one!”
“Fine.” Uruha acquiesced, throwing the jacket somewhere inside, which elicited a gasp from Reita because he was careful and well-organized when it comes to his closet. Uruha unceremoniously pulled a thicker black jacket - ah, perfect, Uruha thought - from underneath a layer of clothes, but the sudden movement caused the stack of clothes to tumble down the floo -
“What the fuck are you doing?” Reita asked, irritated, his voice taking a higher pitch that surprised even Uruha. None-too-gently he pulled his friend away from the cabinet, stuffed the fallen clothes inside and then shut it noisily.
No, no, no, Reita, Uruha could hear something screaming in his head. He didn’t know what exactly about that jacket that was making him upset at the moment, but he knew if Reita keeps it on for the whole night, he’d just go insane, like really insane. He didn’t know why, but . . . but . . . -
“You’re doing it again.” Reita said softly, the annoyance in his voice suddenly gone. Maybe because it was the pout that Uruha was wearing at the moment, or the ridiculousness of the entire situation - they were so close to arguing over a single piece of clothing, and Reita himself didn’t understand why. Perhaps Uruha didn’t know too, but the latter was just clearly upset about it.
“Doing what?” Uruha asked, frowning.
“I don’t know, freaking over somebody’s fashion sense?” Reita shrugged, rolling his eyes.
“What?!” Uruha’s eyes widened. How did anybody’s fashion sense get into the picture? He’s not that vain! Fine, he could get really vain but not about something like this. He didn’t even think of that, didn’t even remotely think of that! “I’m not freaking over -“
Reita pointed an accusing finger at Uruha. “This is the second time you’re doing it to me.”
“Yeah, and the first time, you took that jacket off, so you better take that off again.” Uruha remembered the first time. He had refused to walk downtown with Reita to find the shop where he could have his favorite boots repaired, unless Reita wore another jacket. The latter did. And had his boots repaired.
As if to annoy him, Reita smugly zipped the jacket up, and smiled. “Right. I thought you said you won’t be doing this again. You said that in the interview, remember?”
I did? Shit. God, this was such a silly conversation. Uruha felt silly. And stupid. What is it with Reita’s jacket? He just had the feeling the world is going to end for him if he sees it on Reita for the next few hours. But really, Uruha, you have to let this go - especially since there really was no point to this entire argument and Reita made clear that he’s not going to take it off, anyway. Just let it go.
Feeling a little dejected and more of an idiot each passing moment, Uruha clenched his fists before pouting. Then he threw his hands up in the air, before starting towards the door. “Fine. I don’t care anymore.”
Reita let out a loud sigh of relief before following his friend, taking a quick glance at his watch that revealed they still had 25 minutes before the movie starts. No matter how much he thought he knew Uruha, his best friend still confused him sometimes. How could he get so touchy with just a single jacket? And this particular jacket, at that. He wasn’t sure what happened back there, but he was glad that Uruha had given up on that request faster than he initially expected.
He knew that if Uruha pouted for 10 seconds more, he knew he’ll be taking off that damn thing.