Sugar Pain - Chp.13 - Multiple Gaze-pairings
Title : Sugar Pain
Chap : 13/ ?
Pairing : (Uruha/Aoi), Reituki, Uruha/Kai, Kai/Aoi (?)
Genre : angst, drama
Rating : PG-13
Warning : none really
Disclaimer : I don’t own them, I’m not affiliated, it’s all just fiction from my warped imagination.
Summary : Aoi is infatuated with Uruha but Uruha thinks he’s pathetic - that doesn’t stop him embarking on a dark relationship with the other guitarist however. Reita and Ruki have come to the end of their relationship but neither wants to admit it’s over, and that their feelings might lie elsewhere. The band and their friendships are in danger of collapse as passions come to a head.
A/N: I started writing again ... this is a short chapter, and Kai-centric - it would have been longer but once I started writing I couldn't stop - next chap very soon indeed I promise!
The next few days were concerned with Ruki’s songs. Reita and Kai had only one or two ideas between them to put forward and those were quickly dealt with. Ruki, on the other hand, had a notebook full of ideas and concepts, lyrics and incomplete lines, melodies and scribbles and random designs, his soul poured out into his music over the last weeks. The range and complexity of his offerings stunned everyone but they accepted it without comment on its origin and then got down to work.
Each night Aoi would return home exhilarated and exhausted but he set to work in his little studio regardless. Uruha didn’t reappear on his doorstep again, though he found himself looking at the clock far more often than he would otherwise, chastising himself for his stupidity every time he caught himself. Kai had taken to driving him home from the second day, staying for a while, just hanging around it seemed but always he’d prepare some food and make sure Aoi took a break and actually ate something, then he’d tidy up round the apartment quietly, almost unnoticed, while Aoi lost himself in the music once more, coming to sit with him in the darkened room. They didn’t speak, the odd word from Kai to prompt Aoi to lift a fork or chopstick, a casual ‘What do you think of …?’ about some song or part of one, and then the drummer would leave, with a gentle reminder to the guitarist that he should go to bed. Sometimes he actually did that, sometimes he’d shrug, closing the door and stopping for a second, wondering why Kai was being so nice to him, but then a new melody would catch him and he’d hurry back to his closeted room and pick up his guitar.
As the door to Aoi’s apartment closed, the dark-haired guitarist turning with that abstracted look Kai was coming to know so well almost before he’d shut the door, Kai smiled. He was humming to himself as he made his way to the lift and down to his car. He’d continue to look after Aoi for now, continue to make sure he ate and took some care of his own person, at least while they were going through this period of pre-production. Once they were in the studio he’d be watching out for everyone again, and they’d be watching each other too, but these few weeks, if left to his own devices, Kai knew Aoi would shut himself up in that tiny room, forgetting food and sleep and hygiene and by the time they moved into rehearsal and studio prep he’d be exhausted and likely to come down with something. He’d trust Aoi more than anyone else in the band when it came to the necessary but technically fiddly and often tedious job of pre-prod, he really was the best man for the job, but he wasn’t about to let him sacrifice himself for it.
Turning the key in the ignition and pulling out into the now quiet streets Kai frowned. Uruha’s dismissal of Aoi, while it hadn’t surprised him in the least, somehow kept creeping into his mind and he realised he was annoyed with the blond, annoyed with his attitude, his over-reaching arrogance, annoyed too with the way he’d so callously used Aoi, abusing him, ignoring him, baiting him, and then taking his pleasure before discarding him like so much trash. And yet, at the first band meeting, as soon as the pair of them had their guitars in their hands, it had been like watching a scene from a much earlier time. But something didn’t sit right with Kai, something else was going on, he didn’t know what but it was bugging him. On the second day, he’d expected Aoi to walk in the room full of confidence after the success of the previous day but instead, the dark guitarist had slunk in, eyes lowered, teeth constantly gnawing on his bottom lip, avoiding any touch, any look, any word, until the music took him over once more. He didn’t understand it at all. He’d been proud of Aoi that first day, he knew it was going to be difficult for him, knew he felt responsible for the chaos that had blighted the end of their tour, but he’d held his own, stood tall, and Kai had confidently marked it down as a new start, a turning-point. To have him come in the next day as low and as cowed as he was, seemingly even more fearful and awkward than before, was shocking to the drummer.
What had happened? He hadn’t seen anything occur between the two guitarists that would explain it, but then, just because he hadn’t seen it didn’t mean that something hadn’t happened. And yet the way they’d been together, playing, laughing, discussing the finer points of a riff or melody, somehow he couldn’t see it. It wasn’t down to Ruki, Kai was sure of that, there had seemed to be an understanding between Aoi and the vocalist, which was good. His thoughts had moved to Reita then but it had been obvious to everyone that the bassist was focussed solely on his ex-lover, and he didn’t think Aoi would be hurt by something like that, that the dark guitarist would have seen that as natural and would have sympathised with his friend, rather than wishing for anything for himself. Kai still wasn’t convinced Aoi had any deeper feelings for Reita in the first place. Then what was it? Was it simply Aoi’s ridiculous lack of self-confidence rearing its head once more? He couldn’t explain it but he’d already made the conscious decision to act as Aoi’s protector, and one good day did not automatically mean Aoi was now immune to self-doubt, or that they had the old, joking confident guitarist back in full.
Pausing at a junction Kai almost turned the car towards Uruha’s, his brows furrowing into a deep scowl as he wrenched the wheel the other way. No! This anger at Uruha was bubbling low in his stomach, and it wasn’t letting up. He wouldn’t be calling on the blond for anything other than band business from now on. He shouldn’t have let this situation develop in the first place. It had been convenient at the time but it was just too complicated to continue. He tried to analyse his anger. It was unlike him to feel it quite so strongly or without good reason, not that there wasn’t reason enough but nothing solid he could put his finger on. What was it but a creeping disgust for Uruha’s coldness, because that was how Kai saw the blond, he realised, cold, cold and uncaring and selfish and arrogant. Damn it! He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, the force burning across his palm sharply, cursing himself and the blond and the world in general. He drove the rest of the way to his apartment grinding his teeth, biting back the rolling growl that kept threatening to escape his throat.
Was this because of Aoi? Frustrated and tired, Kai stalked through his dark apartment, stripping his clothes to collapse into bed, staring up at the gloomy ceiling, knowing full well he wasn’t going to be able to sleep. No, maybe the way Uruha treated his fellow guitarist, but that was all. He had no sexual desire of his own for Aoi. He’d thought about it, wondered if he should pursue the dark guitarist or not, but in the end he’d decided against such a course of action. It wouldn’t help Aoi’s state of mind anyway; Aoi didn’t desire him and he didn’t want Aoi. Pointless! Better to look out for him, as he was doing, and nothing more. So, it wasn’t envy or lust, from any point of view, for Aoi or Uruha, or because of either one of them. It wasn’t simply the outrage at injustice either, though Uruha’s bullying was certainly unpalatable. What was it? That Aoi wasn’t the only one who had changed over the years, because Uruha had changed too. Maybe that was closer to it.
He rubbed his hand over his face, grinding his knuckles into his eye sockets. He could think himself in circles all night but he wasn’t going to get any nearer to the truth. He’d have to talk to him, soon: he couldn’t let this go on much longer, but he knew he wouldn’t say a word until he discovered the source of his anger for himself.
Previous Chapters : [ 1] [ 2] [ 3] [ 4] [ 5] [ 6] [ 7] [ 8] [ 9] [ 10] [ 11] [ 12]
FicArchive
whoops - editied for previous links
Chap : 13/ ?
Pairing : (Uruha/Aoi), Reituki, Uruha/Kai, Kai/Aoi (?)
Genre : angst, drama
Rating : PG-13
Warning : none really
Disclaimer : I don’t own them, I’m not affiliated, it’s all just fiction from my warped imagination.
Summary : Aoi is infatuated with Uruha but Uruha thinks he’s pathetic - that doesn’t stop him embarking on a dark relationship with the other guitarist however. Reita and Ruki have come to the end of their relationship but neither wants to admit it’s over, and that their feelings might lie elsewhere. The band and their friendships are in danger of collapse as passions come to a head.
A/N: I started writing again ... this is a short chapter, and Kai-centric - it would have been longer but once I started writing I couldn't stop - next chap very soon indeed I promise!
The next few days were concerned with Ruki’s songs. Reita and Kai had only one or two ideas between them to put forward and those were quickly dealt with. Ruki, on the other hand, had a notebook full of ideas and concepts, lyrics and incomplete lines, melodies and scribbles and random designs, his soul poured out into his music over the last weeks. The range and complexity of his offerings stunned everyone but they accepted it without comment on its origin and then got down to work.
Each night Aoi would return home exhilarated and exhausted but he set to work in his little studio regardless. Uruha didn’t reappear on his doorstep again, though he found himself looking at the clock far more often than he would otherwise, chastising himself for his stupidity every time he caught himself. Kai had taken to driving him home from the second day, staying for a while, just hanging around it seemed but always he’d prepare some food and make sure Aoi took a break and actually ate something, then he’d tidy up round the apartment quietly, almost unnoticed, while Aoi lost himself in the music once more, coming to sit with him in the darkened room. They didn’t speak, the odd word from Kai to prompt Aoi to lift a fork or chopstick, a casual ‘What do you think of …?’ about some song or part of one, and then the drummer would leave, with a gentle reminder to the guitarist that he should go to bed. Sometimes he actually did that, sometimes he’d shrug, closing the door and stopping for a second, wondering why Kai was being so nice to him, but then a new melody would catch him and he’d hurry back to his closeted room and pick up his guitar.
As the door to Aoi’s apartment closed, the dark-haired guitarist turning with that abstracted look Kai was coming to know so well almost before he’d shut the door, Kai smiled. He was humming to himself as he made his way to the lift and down to his car. He’d continue to look after Aoi for now, continue to make sure he ate and took some care of his own person, at least while they were going through this period of pre-production. Once they were in the studio he’d be watching out for everyone again, and they’d be watching each other too, but these few weeks, if left to his own devices, Kai knew Aoi would shut himself up in that tiny room, forgetting food and sleep and hygiene and by the time they moved into rehearsal and studio prep he’d be exhausted and likely to come down with something. He’d trust Aoi more than anyone else in the band when it came to the necessary but technically fiddly and often tedious job of pre-prod, he really was the best man for the job, but he wasn’t about to let him sacrifice himself for it.
Turning the key in the ignition and pulling out into the now quiet streets Kai frowned. Uruha’s dismissal of Aoi, while it hadn’t surprised him in the least, somehow kept creeping into his mind and he realised he was annoyed with the blond, annoyed with his attitude, his over-reaching arrogance, annoyed too with the way he’d so callously used Aoi, abusing him, ignoring him, baiting him, and then taking his pleasure before discarding him like so much trash. And yet, at the first band meeting, as soon as the pair of them had their guitars in their hands, it had been like watching a scene from a much earlier time. But something didn’t sit right with Kai, something else was going on, he didn’t know what but it was bugging him. On the second day, he’d expected Aoi to walk in the room full of confidence after the success of the previous day but instead, the dark guitarist had slunk in, eyes lowered, teeth constantly gnawing on his bottom lip, avoiding any touch, any look, any word, until the music took him over once more. He didn’t understand it at all. He’d been proud of Aoi that first day, he knew it was going to be difficult for him, knew he felt responsible for the chaos that had blighted the end of their tour, but he’d held his own, stood tall, and Kai had confidently marked it down as a new start, a turning-point. To have him come in the next day as low and as cowed as he was, seemingly even more fearful and awkward than before, was shocking to the drummer.
What had happened? He hadn’t seen anything occur between the two guitarists that would explain it, but then, just because he hadn’t seen it didn’t mean that something hadn’t happened. And yet the way they’d been together, playing, laughing, discussing the finer points of a riff or melody, somehow he couldn’t see it. It wasn’t down to Ruki, Kai was sure of that, there had seemed to be an understanding between Aoi and the vocalist, which was good. His thoughts had moved to Reita then but it had been obvious to everyone that the bassist was focussed solely on his ex-lover, and he didn’t think Aoi would be hurt by something like that, that the dark guitarist would have seen that as natural and would have sympathised with his friend, rather than wishing for anything for himself. Kai still wasn’t convinced Aoi had any deeper feelings for Reita in the first place. Then what was it? Was it simply Aoi’s ridiculous lack of self-confidence rearing its head once more? He couldn’t explain it but he’d already made the conscious decision to act as Aoi’s protector, and one good day did not automatically mean Aoi was now immune to self-doubt, or that they had the old, joking confident guitarist back in full.
Pausing at a junction Kai almost turned the car towards Uruha’s, his brows furrowing into a deep scowl as he wrenched the wheel the other way. No! This anger at Uruha was bubbling low in his stomach, and it wasn’t letting up. He wouldn’t be calling on the blond for anything other than band business from now on. He shouldn’t have let this situation develop in the first place. It had been convenient at the time but it was just too complicated to continue. He tried to analyse his anger. It was unlike him to feel it quite so strongly or without good reason, not that there wasn’t reason enough but nothing solid he could put his finger on. What was it but a creeping disgust for Uruha’s coldness, because that was how Kai saw the blond, he realised, cold, cold and uncaring and selfish and arrogant. Damn it! He slammed his hand against the steering wheel, the force burning across his palm sharply, cursing himself and the blond and the world in general. He drove the rest of the way to his apartment grinding his teeth, biting back the rolling growl that kept threatening to escape his throat.
Was this because of Aoi? Frustrated and tired, Kai stalked through his dark apartment, stripping his clothes to collapse into bed, staring up at the gloomy ceiling, knowing full well he wasn’t going to be able to sleep. No, maybe the way Uruha treated his fellow guitarist, but that was all. He had no sexual desire of his own for Aoi. He’d thought about it, wondered if he should pursue the dark guitarist or not, but in the end he’d decided against such a course of action. It wouldn’t help Aoi’s state of mind anyway; Aoi didn’t desire him and he didn’t want Aoi. Pointless! Better to look out for him, as he was doing, and nothing more. So, it wasn’t envy or lust, from any point of view, for Aoi or Uruha, or because of either one of them. It wasn’t simply the outrage at injustice either, though Uruha’s bullying was certainly unpalatable. What was it? That Aoi wasn’t the only one who had changed over the years, because Uruha had changed too. Maybe that was closer to it.
He rubbed his hand over his face, grinding his knuckles into his eye sockets. He could think himself in circles all night but he wasn’t going to get any nearer to the truth. He’d have to talk to him, soon: he couldn’t let this go on much longer, but he knew he wouldn’t say a word until he discovered the source of his anger for himself.
Previous Chapters : [ 1] [ 2] [ 3] [ 4] [ 5] [ 6] [ 7] [ 8] [ 9] [ 10] [ 11] [ 12]
FicArchive
whoops - editied for previous links