Fanfiction: Memories (Oneshot)
Title: Memories
Fandom: The GazettE
Pairings: AoixUruha
Rating: PG15
Spoilers/Warnings: Romance and mild smex
Disclaimers: I don’t own them, I’m not implying any of this is true, God isn't that nice to me.
Summary:There are certain points in life you will always remember. For Uruha, a number of them, for some reason, involve Aoi….
A/N: Inspired by a series of picture prompts found here. Just felt in the mood to write this as I haven't written Gazette fanfic in a while, and it's like a transitional piece before I start my next project ^^. Please enjoy and comments are love.
***
Memories
***
Uruha remembered the first time his heart got broken
He had been fresh out of high school and she had been his sweetheart. God, he loved her, adored her, wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. Looking back, he knew a large part of it was his hormones talking, but he did genuinely love her.
At that time, both he and Reita had decided to pursue their dreams of making music and both decided to drop out. But Uruha had a good feeling about what he was doing, and when it came time to make the move to Tokyo, he wanted her right by his side.
So he asked her to follow him, painting a picture of their life together. A life where he would make it big, and then they could build a home together.
He remembered how warm that day was, how the air smelt of dank grass and pollen. How the afternoon sun shone in through the window and fractured into yellow shrapnel on the floor.
They had been drinking Iron Goddess oolong tea, its bitter taste refreshing in the heat. Perspiration made the ends of her shiny black bob stick to her neck, her almond shaped eyes downcast as he told her what he and Reita’s plans were.
He had gotten as far as telling her about Tokyo when she blurted out that she wasn’t going to be following him. And then in a steadier voice, she told him that she was breaking up with him.
Before Uruha could utter the almost cliché “Is there someone else?”, she told him her reason.
She didn't want to date a band boy.
It was such a simple answer that it left Uruha with nothing more to say.
“Please don't think this is me not believing in you. You are talented, more than you know, and I have no doubt that you will go on to do wonderful things and accomplish everything you set out to do.”
“But…” she trailed off as she gently placed her hand on his.
“Don’t you see? It’s because I believe in you is why we can’t be together. That kind of life is not for me. I don’t want fame or money. I want a husband who works a 9-to-5 job, who comes home and plays with the kids. My dreams are more modest compared to yours.”
“And what makes you think I don’t want that?” Uruha challenged, never liking when people assumed something about him just because of his outlandish dreams. That underneath it all his wants and needs were different from any other man’s.
“Because you deserve better than that. You will become a star, I believe that is your lot in life. And you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy.”
She took back her hand and folded both on her lap.
“And that won’t be me.”
She then picked up her teacup and finished the last remnants, her throat twitching slightly as she used her free hand to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her right ear. Until this day, Uruha remembered how her beige nail polish stood out starkly against the ebony of her hair.
She then got up, bowed, uttered a soft goodbye, and then walked out of his house. As he locked the door behind her, Uruha remembered how much his heart had hurt in his chest, how every thud felt numb against his ribcage.
In the days that followed, Uruha worked hard to remind himself that she was right. In the end, he needed someone who would stand by him throughout his career. Not someone who would crack under the strain.
Uruha knew that it would take years of sacrifice before anything would come of his musical career, if at all. But whether he realised it or not, it also prepared his heart for the possibility that he might have to spend long stretches of his life alone.
And he was okay with that. After all it wasn't the end of the world.
It just felt like it.
***
Uruha remembered the first time he had felt truly happy.
After months of working at it, and finding other members to join him and Reita, his band was finally going to play a gig. Funnily enough, he could not remember the name of the livehouse, there were so many in Tokyo at the time.
But still, it was a gig. It was a step forward rather than a step back.
There were probably around twenty people in the audience that night, but Uruha tried his best not to count the number of heads that were moving to their music. Instead he just concentrated on the guitar in his hands, how the strings felt beneath his fingertips, how its weight rested on his hip.
When it came time to do a solo, Uruha felt in his element. The sounds he coaxed from his guitar were sharp and aggressive, yet Uruha never felt more at peace. He played like a man possessed so that everything else, the vocalist’s voice, Reita’s bass, all became white noise.
And when he had finished, he remembered looking down at the crowd and seeing this one girl. Her face had been turned up to look at the stage, but her eyes were closed and she was swaying to the music, enraptured in absolute bliss in something that he had created.
It was then Uruha knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had found his calling. And in that moment he knew what pure happiness felt like.
***
Uruha remembered the first time he had been attracted to a man.
He remembered not being entirely thrilled with the suggestion that they get another guitarist. Of course, it wasn't unusual for most visual kei bands to have two guitarists, a lead and a rhythm, but it wasn't unusual to have just one either.
But regardless, they needed a drummer now that Ruki had taken over the position of vocalist and this one came with a guitarist.
Maybe the resentment he felt had a lot to do with Uruha’s need to always be number one. Uruha knew that people saw him as laid-back, who took his own sweet time doing things. But underneath that, Uruha hated to lose more than anything.
So it was no surprise that Uruha was slightly standoffish at the first meeting with their new bandmates. And that feeling didn't lesson when this gawky kid with a long face topped with drugstore-bottle dirty blonde hair walked through the door of his dressing room.
“Hi, I’m Aoi,” the kid had said sticking his hand out, which Uruha shook begrudgingly. Cheap dye-job aside, Aoi didn't look like a star to Uruha. He was somewhat good-looking, which didn't count for much in Uruha’s eyes. Their business was full of good-looking guys whose talent quotient could fit into a thimble.
And when Aoi started to play, Uruha could remember being severely underwhelmed by his guitar skills. He did have a lovely touch with the acoustic however, which Uruha lacked, so he had to give him that.
But it was when Aoi showed his compositions that Uruha started to accept him. Maybe it was because he was older, a fact that surprised Uruha who thought he was at least Ruki’s age. His songs were still rough around the edges, but it was still superior to whatever he and Ruki had in their repertoire.
Still, it didn't mean he had to welcome him with open arms the way Reita had.
“You play very well, I’m envious,” Aoi had said as he sat next to him and lit up before offering Uruha his pack.
“Thanks,” Uruha said with a shrug as he accepted a stick.
“I think you and I will work very well together Uruha, we seem to have such different styles. I am looking forward to playing with you,” Aoi said, his full lips curving into a smile.
“We will see,” Uruha said curtly, as he pursed his lips around his cigarette. He thought that he saw something flicker in Aoi’s eyes at his careless words, but it was gone so fast that Uruha thought he might have imagined it.
“I guess we will,” Aoi said as he shrugged as well and offered Uruha his hand. When Uruha shook it, he remembered how firm Aoi’s grip had been, how warm his palm was.
And against his will, Uruha felt his pulse quicken and a slight heat to his skin. It was in that moment that Uruha noticed how dark Aoi’s eyes were, how they seemed to look through him, how they challenged him.
It was then Uruha felt it, a spark of attraction that was so alien to him and it was as if someone had given him a brand new pair of glasses. Because then it made him see Aoi’s lithe frame beneath the ill-fitting clothes, or how sensuous his mouth was when accented by his lip ring.
He didn't like guys, he knew that with as much certainty as he knew his own name. But it was clear that some part of him, even if he didn't want it to, was attracted to Aoi.
Uruha also remembered his reaction to it at the time, encapsulated in just one word.
Fuck.
***
Uruha remembered the first time he had started to like Aoi.
And by like, he meant liked in a way that was more than a bandmate and a friend.
The band had been playing a live in Mie, Aoi’s hometown. As such, they had decided to spend the day at the beach. Uruha had never really been a beach person, although he was glad to see that he tanned pretty nicely compared to Ruki who just turned into a lobster.
Still, it was only right to do as the Romans do, so that was how they all ended up at the seaside that evening. The concert was the next day, so they had been having a pretty good time drinking beers and eating their way through a picnic basket that Kai had prepared.
Uruha remembered the wind whipping at his hair, speckling the blonde ends with a light layer of salt crystals as he pushed his aviator sunglasses further up his nose. For most part, Uruha enjoyed just sitting in the sun, letting it warm his shoulders that were bare as a result of the tank top he wore.
Aoi however, took the opportunity to go surfing, something he had done a lot of during his younger years. This time he managed to rope Reita into doing so as well, so both of them were having a whale of a time at the edge of the shore.
“You know, one fatal mistake and we could lose our bassist and guitarist in one swoop, you do realise that don’t you Ruki?” Uruha said, which the vocalist answered with a light snort before going back to his magazine.
Chuckling to himself Uruha went back to looking at his two bandmates who were obviously getting ready to plunge back into the ocean. From where he was sitting he could just make out both of their forms, clad in slick Neoprene wetsuits holding their boards as they gazed out at the sea.
Suddenly, Aoi turned and waved to the rest of the band, his arm sweeping a wide arc until Kai waved back cheerfully. Because of his sunglasses, Uruha saw Aoi bathed in this kind of amber pink hue, which blocked out the harshness of the sun.
Uruha didn't know what it was that made his heartbeat suddenly speed up. Aoi certainly didn't look any different from how he looked day-to-day. His hair was still naturally jet-black, which Uruha thought was still the best look for him, plastered in against his face in stringy strands.
But maybe it was the way he held his face up, which made the sun catch the planes of his face. Or the way his eyes lit up as he signaled to Reita the best wave to catch.
Maybe…
But Uruha couldn't continue the thought as Aoi turned his attention back to the waves and dove headfirst into the breakers.
***
Uruha remembered the first time Aoi had said, “I love you”.
It hadn’t been long after that trip to the beach that Uruha had come to Aoi with a proposition. Their hours were long, their schedules grueling, so it made sense to the blonde to turn to his bandmate to take the edge off.
And of the other members of GazettE, Aoi was the most logical choice. Uruha would never sleep with Reita, and Ruki for all their fooling around on stage was a little too high-strung for him. And sleeping with Kai would be like sleeping with his mother.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
That phrase had become their codeword as such for when either of them needed some company.
It had been a particularly hard night. Nothing went right during the live and subsequent management meeting, which left Uruha feeling irritated and antsy.
Uruha remembered practically dragging Aoi into his hotel room, almost ripping off his jeans as he pushed him onto the bed. Uruha knew exactly how to get Aoi’s engines going, where to touch, where to suck and where to caress.
His fingers had been buried inside Aoi only for a few moments before the older man had tossed him a condom and the lubricant. Uruha’s slide into his Aoi’s body had been easy and familiar, his cock tight inside the older man as he fucked him until they both blew.
Yet, one round had never really been enough for them. Hence why Uruha wasn't surprised when Aoi woke him up barely an hour later with his mouth on the blonde’s cock. Aoi’s horniness was also probably due to the fact that Uruha rarely ever topped, liking how he could manipulate the older man until he was practically begging to fuck him.
However, there was something distinctively different about this time. Aoi moved a lot slower, took his time a lot more when it came to pleasing the blonde. Aoi’s mouth never seemed to leave Uruha’s sensitive nipples at all during that night, bruising them with love bites and kisses, making him shudder.
And when Aoi finally rolled a condom over his own cock, Uruha wasn’t play-acting when he begged the older man to take him. He hadn’t remembered wanting Aoi so much before, so much so that when he drove his cock into him, Uruha had to bite his lip to suppress a cry that would have been to him, indecently loud.
Uruha remembered feeling every thrust that night, how Aoi had felt so good between his legs, practically turning him inside out. And when it was all over, Uruha remembered feeling this quiet exhaustion that was no less satisfying, as he leaned on Aoi’s shoulder.
But what Uruha didn't like was what he heard Aoi say as he was drifting off to sleep, which made his eyes instantly snap open.
“I love you Uru..”
“Damn you Aoi, not that,” Uruha cursed inwardly as he kept his gaze downcast so that he was watching the rise and fall of Aoi’s stomach. A part of him knew that Aoi was waiting for an answer, any kind of reaction from the blonde.
But Uruha was simply not ready to give any kind of response, so he just kept quiet. He would continue to pretend to sleep, so that he wouldn't have to. And a part of him hated Aoi in that moment, hated that he was going to ruin something that Uruha had become comfortable with, which he depended on.
So he kept silent, controlling his breathing until he heard Aoi sigh as he found an answer not forthcoming and turn away.
And in that instant, Uruha felt relief. But he also felt like a complete and utter worthless shit.
***
Uruha remembered how he and Aoi had ended it all.
Until this day, he wasn't sure exactly what had ended. It wasn't their friendship, because they were still friends albeit it at arm’s length. It wasn't their professional relationship, because The GazettE was still going strong five years in.
And it was in no shape or form a relationship. The closest he could describe it was a fucked up arrangement that he knew had to end one day.
The reason it had ended was fucked up as well. Simply put, Uruha couldn't deal with the fact that he wasn’t Aoi’s first homosexual relationship. Aoi had confessed to him a couple of weeks before that he had been involved with a guy before, his ex-girlfriend’s brother who had offered him some comfort after their breakup.
At first Uruha had wondered if the relationship had been just physical, but the way Aoi spoke about him made the blonde realise it was much more. Aoi had loved this guy, adored him, had been wistful over him.
To most people it would seem irrational, but again Uruha supposed it had to do with his competitive streak. Wasn’t it normal for guys to always want to be the first at anything?
So why couldn't Aoi understand that after Uruha had took pains to explain it to him. All Aoi could do was look at the younger man in disbelief.
“Are you shitting me Uru? Seriously? Just because you aren’t the first guy I’ve ever been with?” Aoi said, his voice hard with anger and his knuckles white.
“It’s more than that Aoi. I feel you are constantly comparing me to this guy. It’s like when I break a date with you to hang out with other people, you get this look in your eye that says ‘he would have never done that’, and it’s tiring,” Uruha had replied.
“Even when we have sex, I get this feeling I’m not arousing you as much as he did or drive you as wild as he did. I can’t fucking take that kind of pressure Aoi! Not on top of every other pressure in my life,” Uruha added as he started to clean out the drawer that Aoi kept especially for him.
As he started to pick up more and more of his stuff, Uruha knew he was doing the right thing. He didn't like that he had started leaving more stuff at Aoi’s place, that he even had a drawer at the older man’s place.
You didn't do that if your attachment to someone was casual. You did that with a long-term lover, which Uruha didn't think he could be with Aoi.
Uruha expected Aoi to be mad at him, for his quick-fire temper to inevitably rear its ugly head. He had always hated that about Aoi, his quick blow-ups and even quicker bouts of forgiveness, which never felt sincere.
But he wasn't expecting that when he looked up to see Aoi looking at him steadily, sadness and resignation mingled on his face. Uruha’s fingers itched to brush back Aoi’s hair that had fallen against his cheekbones as the older man drew a deep breath.
“Aoi…we are still friends you know. You are still my other half in the band,” Uruha said, as he tried to soften his leaving. Uruha saw Aoi’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and held out his hand.
“Key then, please Uru,” Aoi said quietly. A part of Uruha felt shocked at Aoi was giving up so easily, but it was quashed by the part of him that said that this was exactly what he wanted.
Pulling the key out of his pocket, Uruha dropped it in Aoi’s hand and then wrapped both their fingers around it.
“See you at practice then Aoi,” Uruha said as he let go of Aoi’s clenched fist.
“See you Uruha,” Aoi said as he stuffed the key back into his pocket. “You know your way out,” he added as he walked out of the bedroom into his kitchen leaving Uruha alone holding his bag of clothes.
Letting out a slow breath, Uruha grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way through the door. As he shut it behind him, Uruha was suddenly struck by a feeling of déjà vu, of another door he had closed in a similar manner so long ago.
And just like last time, there was a pain in his chest that lingered for longer than he would have liked it to.
***
Uruha remembered when he had felt true jealousy.
Usually Uruha was pretty immune to the green-eyed monster. He knew what he was, and what he could do. He knew he was gorgeous, he knew he played like a demon possessed on stage, with fingers that flew over his frets with barely a slip.
It was this assurance in his talents that gave Uruha an almost bulletproof like confidence. If he saw someone else doing better, he simply took it as challenge to do better, succeeding most of the time.
In fact, there were so few things in life that he coveted that it made it hard for him to feel truly envious of anyone as comfortable as he was in his own skin.
So why was it he held this almost murderous urge towards the actress that Ruki had chosen to star in their Pledge video?
Uruha remembered narrowing his eyes as he watched the playback. She was pretty, there was no question, but then Uruha had come into contact with lots of pretty girls in the industry.
He didn't know why it bothered him so much that the video seemed to showcase a number of shots of her horse teeth or her flared nostrils. And the pettiest grievance he had was that when she ran crying in the rain, her perfectly straight hair never got wet.
It was a shame though, because he actually really liked how they had superimposed him in the mirror by Aoi as they played their guitar duet. So what if it was so clearly staged for them to do so, with management knowing that the fans liked the contrast between the guitarists, both in looks and playing styles.
One so dark, the other so light. One so quiet, the other so outlandish. Night and day.
They had done so many photoshoots to that effect that it was practically a given whenever they were interviewed or shot together that one would be in black, the other in white. It was cheesy, but it worked so well visually that it could hardly be faulted.
Funnily enough, although they had to produce artificial rain during the shoot, it had actually started to rain once shooting had wrapped. The night rain that carried with it the scent of frost and dissolved exhaust that made Uruha sneeze.
Uruha had finished changing and was getting ready to leave when he saw Aoi chatting with the actress by her trailer. Something about the comfortable way they were interacting made Uruha grit his teeth. Aoi was excitedly showing her something on his iPad, which she reciprocated by showing him her phone.
“Talking about Twitter no doubt, don’t let it get to you Uru.”
Uruha jumped as Reita suddenly appeared to his left, his bag slung over his right shoulder as his left hand held his helmet.
“What shit are you talking about Rei?” Uruha snapped as he stuffed his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans.
Instead of answering, Reita just gave Uruha this look with a raised eyebrow as if to tell him to cut the bullshit. But the bassist didn't say a word and simply just shrugged and walked away.
“Your ride is ready Uruha,” one of the band’s minders said with a polite bow as he indicated a sleek black sedan to the guitarist. Nodding, Uruha tore his eyes away from Aoi and the actress as he got into the car and slammed the door a little harder than he would have liked.
As the car drove away, Uruha leaned against the window and watched out of the corner of his eye as they drove away from the shoot’s location, the figures becoming blurred as the spotlights cast a halo around the entire scene.
God he was tired, was Uruha’s only thought as he half-closed his eyes against the glare of the streetlights. Placing his fingers against the window, the glass felt cool against his fingertips as he absentmindedly traced each raindrop until he fell asleep.
***
Uruha remembered when he had felt true hope.
Not saying that he didn't acknowledge that it existed. Rather Uruha actually never believed in putting too much stock in hope, knowing how paralysing it could be
He did believe that too much hope was among the worst of evils, for it prolonged torment. . It froze you in place, rendering you unable to take a step forward, just leaving you in limbo.
That is why he believed in a quote by Nietzsche, which said something in that vein, which he had heard on this silly American drama that Reita had become addicted to called Criminal Minds.
It wasn't really his cup of tea, but he had found himself watching it regardless, the throwaway nature of the show making it a guilty pleasure whenever he didn't want to think too much.
What he did like however, were the quotes they uttered at the beginning and the end of the episodes that seemed to frame the hour so well.
But when Uruha truly felt hope, it came in the most unexpected form.
He had been at Aoi’s apartment, along with the rest of the band completing songs. Aoi’s apartment was the most logical place for them to work before going into the studio given the amount of equipment he stored there.
Uruha had always teased Aoi that all he was missing was the soundproofed walls, which the older man took on the chin with a smile. But Uruha couldn't help smiling when he read Aoi’s tweet about making a curtain in lieu of proper padded walls.
Although it took most of the day, finally all five of them were happy with that they had created and slowly took their leave until it was just left the two guitarists. Uruha remembered being in torn jeans and a black long-sleeved sweater, cradling his acoustic in his lap as he sat across from Aoi.
“Stop taking pictures of me Aoi,” Uruha has snarled as the older man snapped him bouncing his crossed legs along with the melody. Aoi, who was in torn jeans himself, simply gave him a smile and a wink.
“Oh come on Uru, people know that offstage you are a ragamuffin when you dress, this is simply proof. It makes you more approachable,” Aoi chuckled as he picked up his own acoustic.
For a moment, they both played in comfortable silence as they worked on a melody that Ruki had written for them until they got it right. Uruha glanced up every once in a while and smiled at Aoi’s face of concentration as a pick perched between his lips.
Although most would have not known it from looking at them, it actually took a lot of work on both their parts for them to reach this level where they could work with each other without some kind of awkwardness.
Besides, Uruha had always liked Aoi’s apartment, with its plushy furniture and well-stocked fridge courtesy of Kai. He liked it so much so that he wondered fleetingly why didn't they spend more time here when they were screwing around.
“I’m not keeping you from anything important, am I Aoi?” Uruha asked as he placed his guitar in the case. Aoi shook his head as he pulled his hair back and secured it with a rubber band.
“Nothing really, my evenings are pretty free these days,” Aoi said ruefully as he reached for a cigarette. Uruha raised an eyebrow as he waved away the smoke wafting from Aoi’s direction.
“What happened to that girl you were seeing?” Uruha asked he sat cross-legged on the floor and scrolled through his iPhone.
“We ended it,” Aoi said with a careless shrug. “She wasn’t really prepared for how I lived. I mean, at the beginning she said she was but I guess its harder when you become faced with the reality that your boyfriend is never around.”
Uruha gave a short laugh.
“I hear you man, they never are prepared are they?” Uruha said as he ran a hand through his hair, as memories of previous girlfriends with the same argument flickered through his mind.
“How are you taking it though?” Uruha asked.
Aoi shrugged his shoulders again as he stubbed out his cigarette.
“I’ll live, there will always be others. One day I will find a girl who will actually be okay with my schedule for once and not be so clingy,” Aoi said emphatically.
“Not if I get to her first bro,” Uruha laughed as he punched Aoi in the shoulder, which made the older man give him a mock wounded look, which was ruined by the grin he sported.
It was such a simple conversation between friends, yet one that was surprisingly intimate as well. They were talking about their love lives after all, but there was no mention of them getting back together, of what they both once shared.
And just like that, Uruha felt hope where there was no indication of it.
As he went home, something niggled at Uruha. Another quote he had heard from that damn show, which echoed in fragments in his head and wouldn't leave him alone.
When he got home, Uruha immediately went online to search for it. It was a surprisingly difficult task, as he couldn't actually remember which episode it was, and there were so many quotes about hope that it was dizzying.
And even when he found the episode, he cursed when he saw it was in English. It took him a while to find a proper Japanese translation for it, but when he did Uruha found himself just staring at the screen for the longest time as he read it over and over again.
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings tunes without words, and never stops at all.” - Emily Dickinson.
***
Uruha remembered the exact moment that he fell in love with Aoi.
It had been early morning and Uruha had parked his car at Aoi’s place as they both decided to walk to the studio that they were recording at that particular day. It was near his place and it was much easier to walk and it was such a lovely crisp morning that Uruha hadn’t minded Aoi’s suggestion that they do so.
After such a long and harsh winter, it was finally spring as indicated by the copious number of trees in bloom as they walked through the park. It was so quiet that Uruha could hear their mutual breathing and the crunch of their boots on the gravel.
After a difficult March, Uruha was glad that everything was slowly getting back to normal despite the specter that was still up north. In the end, life had to go on as hard as it was, there were still deadlines to meet and music that needed to be recorded.
Uruha knew Aoi felt the same as he walked instep with him, his head titled upwards to look at the blossoms on the trees. Usually the cherry blossom trees would be awash with a soft pink, but there was something different about these sets of trees that lined the path they walked on.
These trees in comparison were almost a bright pink, the colour vivid and startling against the peach pre-dawn sky and the gray concrete path where some had fallen free from the branches.
In fact, the colour of the flowers exactly matched Aoi’s new hair. Uruha had remembered laughing under his breath when Aoi showed up looking like some anime character with his shocking pink hair. But is suited him for some reason, even if it did make him visible from miles around.
This morning, Aoi had been wearing his battered fitted leather jacket and a knit cap that only made visible the very tips of his pink hair. He had also abandoned his razor for a few days, which made him sport a five o’clock shadow that he kept rubbing at with the back of his hand.
And all of a sudden, Aoi turned and smiled at him.
And everything clicked into place for Uruha.
All of the emotions that Uruha had ever felt for Aoi crowded around his heart, making it hard for him to draw a breath. It was in that moment, he remembered everything that Aoi had ever done for him, from getting him a cup of coffee to holding him when he had a bad day.
Memories suddenly spooled in his mind of the nine years they had known each other, scenes from every day life playing like a film montage. The bad times, the good, the sheer joy, the heartbreak, Uruha felt it all in that split second.
“Aoi…”
Aoi only managed to turn his head slightly before Uruha cupped his face and kissed him, allowing the blonde only a glimpse of the surprised expression in his irises before he closed his eyes.
In that kiss Uruha poured out all he could not say in words, all the half-shaped apologies and weak declarations that wouldn't have done him justice. He kissed him and kissed him until they were both breathless and needed to pull away.
“Uru…”
“I don’t care if I’m not your first Aoi. I just want to be your last,” Uruha confessed, his fingertips tangled in Aoi’s hair as he refused to let go, even as the older man reached up and tried to loosen the blonde’s grip on him.
“Uru…” Aoi repeated only to be kissed again. When he pulled back, Uruha only moved enough so that their noses were still touching.
“I want you to be the last person I will ever love Aoi,” Uruha said softly. Uruha knew his words and actions were sudden, and that they had so much to work on. But he knew that what he said to Aoi was the honest truth.
“Uruha,” Aoi said making Uruha look at him with worried eyes as he kissed the blonde on the forehead.
"Yes Aoi?"
“You were always mine.”
As Aoi followed up his words with a kiss, Uruha felt a warm relief spread through him. Maybe Aoi always knew that Uruha would come back to him, stubbornly holding on to threads that were gossamer thin with an iron grip, refusing to let go.
Refusing to let him go.
Memories, Uruha had a lot of those, dog-eared snapshots that he kept in the album of his life to remind him where he had come from and where he was going.
And in that moment, Uruha hoped that he would remember the rest of his life with Aoi in it.
***
The End
***
Fandom: The GazettE
Pairings: AoixUruha
Rating: PG15
Spoilers/Warnings: Romance and mild smex
Disclaimers: I don’t own them, I’m not implying any of this is true, God isn't that nice to me.
Summary:There are certain points in life you will always remember. For Uruha, a number of them, for some reason, involve Aoi….
A/N: Inspired by a series of picture prompts found here. Just felt in the mood to write this as I haven't written Gazette fanfic in a while, and it's like a transitional piece before I start my next project ^^. Please enjoy and comments are love.
***
Memories
***
Uruha remembered the first time his heart got broken
He had been fresh out of high school and she had been his sweetheart. God, he loved her, adored her, wanted to be with her for the rest of his life. Looking back, he knew a large part of it was his hormones talking, but he did genuinely love her.
At that time, both he and Reita had decided to pursue their dreams of making music and both decided to drop out. But Uruha had a good feeling about what he was doing, and when it came time to make the move to Tokyo, he wanted her right by his side.
So he asked her to follow him, painting a picture of their life together. A life where he would make it big, and then they could build a home together.
He remembered how warm that day was, how the air smelt of dank grass and pollen. How the afternoon sun shone in through the window and fractured into yellow shrapnel on the floor.
They had been drinking Iron Goddess oolong tea, its bitter taste refreshing in the heat. Perspiration made the ends of her shiny black bob stick to her neck, her almond shaped eyes downcast as he told her what he and Reita’s plans were.
He had gotten as far as telling her about Tokyo when she blurted out that she wasn’t going to be following him. And then in a steadier voice, she told him that she was breaking up with him.
Before Uruha could utter the almost cliché “Is there someone else?”, she told him her reason.
She didn't want to date a band boy.
It was such a simple answer that it left Uruha with nothing more to say.
“Please don't think this is me not believing in you. You are talented, more than you know, and I have no doubt that you will go on to do wonderful things and accomplish everything you set out to do.”
“But…” she trailed off as she gently placed her hand on his.
“Don’t you see? It’s because I believe in you is why we can’t be together. That kind of life is not for me. I don’t want fame or money. I want a husband who works a 9-to-5 job, who comes home and plays with the kids. My dreams are more modest compared to yours.”
“And what makes you think I don’t want that?” Uruha challenged, never liking when people assumed something about him just because of his outlandish dreams. That underneath it all his wants and needs were different from any other man’s.
“Because you deserve better than that. You will become a star, I believe that is your lot in life. And you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy.”
She took back her hand and folded both on her lap.
“And that won’t be me.”
She then picked up her teacup and finished the last remnants, her throat twitching slightly as she used her free hand to tuck a lock of stray hair behind her right ear. Until this day, Uruha remembered how her beige nail polish stood out starkly against the ebony of her hair.
She then got up, bowed, uttered a soft goodbye, and then walked out of his house. As he locked the door behind her, Uruha remembered how much his heart had hurt in his chest, how every thud felt numb against his ribcage.
In the days that followed, Uruha worked hard to remind himself that she was right. In the end, he needed someone who would stand by him throughout his career. Not someone who would crack under the strain.
Uruha knew that it would take years of sacrifice before anything would come of his musical career, if at all. But whether he realised it or not, it also prepared his heart for the possibility that he might have to spend long stretches of his life alone.
And he was okay with that. After all it wasn't the end of the world.
It just felt like it.
***
Uruha remembered the first time he had felt truly happy.
After months of working at it, and finding other members to join him and Reita, his band was finally going to play a gig. Funnily enough, he could not remember the name of the livehouse, there were so many in Tokyo at the time.
But still, it was a gig. It was a step forward rather than a step back.
There were probably around twenty people in the audience that night, but Uruha tried his best not to count the number of heads that were moving to their music. Instead he just concentrated on the guitar in his hands, how the strings felt beneath his fingertips, how its weight rested on his hip.
When it came time to do a solo, Uruha felt in his element. The sounds he coaxed from his guitar were sharp and aggressive, yet Uruha never felt more at peace. He played like a man possessed so that everything else, the vocalist’s voice, Reita’s bass, all became white noise.
And when he had finished, he remembered looking down at the crowd and seeing this one girl. Her face had been turned up to look at the stage, but her eyes were closed and she was swaying to the music, enraptured in absolute bliss in something that he had created.
It was then Uruha knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he had found his calling. And in that moment he knew what pure happiness felt like.
***
Uruha remembered the first time he had been attracted to a man.
He remembered not being entirely thrilled with the suggestion that they get another guitarist. Of course, it wasn't unusual for most visual kei bands to have two guitarists, a lead and a rhythm, but it wasn't unusual to have just one either.
But regardless, they needed a drummer now that Ruki had taken over the position of vocalist and this one came with a guitarist.
Maybe the resentment he felt had a lot to do with Uruha’s need to always be number one. Uruha knew that people saw him as laid-back, who took his own sweet time doing things. But underneath that, Uruha hated to lose more than anything.
So it was no surprise that Uruha was slightly standoffish at the first meeting with their new bandmates. And that feeling didn't lesson when this gawky kid with a long face topped with drugstore-bottle dirty blonde hair walked through the door of his dressing room.
“Hi, I’m Aoi,” the kid had said sticking his hand out, which Uruha shook begrudgingly. Cheap dye-job aside, Aoi didn't look like a star to Uruha. He was somewhat good-looking, which didn't count for much in Uruha’s eyes. Their business was full of good-looking guys whose talent quotient could fit into a thimble.
And when Aoi started to play, Uruha could remember being severely underwhelmed by his guitar skills. He did have a lovely touch with the acoustic however, which Uruha lacked, so he had to give him that.
But it was when Aoi showed his compositions that Uruha started to accept him. Maybe it was because he was older, a fact that surprised Uruha who thought he was at least Ruki’s age. His songs were still rough around the edges, but it was still superior to whatever he and Ruki had in their repertoire.
Still, it didn't mean he had to welcome him with open arms the way Reita had.
“You play very well, I’m envious,” Aoi had said as he sat next to him and lit up before offering Uruha his pack.
“Thanks,” Uruha said with a shrug as he accepted a stick.
“I think you and I will work very well together Uruha, we seem to have such different styles. I am looking forward to playing with you,” Aoi said, his full lips curving into a smile.
“We will see,” Uruha said curtly, as he pursed his lips around his cigarette. He thought that he saw something flicker in Aoi’s eyes at his careless words, but it was gone so fast that Uruha thought he might have imagined it.
“I guess we will,” Aoi said as he shrugged as well and offered Uruha his hand. When Uruha shook it, he remembered how firm Aoi’s grip had been, how warm his palm was.
And against his will, Uruha felt his pulse quicken and a slight heat to his skin. It was in that moment that Uruha noticed how dark Aoi’s eyes were, how they seemed to look through him, how they challenged him.
It was then Uruha felt it, a spark of attraction that was so alien to him and it was as if someone had given him a brand new pair of glasses. Because then it made him see Aoi’s lithe frame beneath the ill-fitting clothes, or how sensuous his mouth was when accented by his lip ring.
He didn't like guys, he knew that with as much certainty as he knew his own name. But it was clear that some part of him, even if he didn't want it to, was attracted to Aoi.
Uruha also remembered his reaction to it at the time, encapsulated in just one word.
Fuck.
***
Uruha remembered the first time he had started to like Aoi.
And by like, he meant liked in a way that was more than a bandmate and a friend.
The band had been playing a live in Mie, Aoi’s hometown. As such, they had decided to spend the day at the beach. Uruha had never really been a beach person, although he was glad to see that he tanned pretty nicely compared to Ruki who just turned into a lobster.
Still, it was only right to do as the Romans do, so that was how they all ended up at the seaside that evening. The concert was the next day, so they had been having a pretty good time drinking beers and eating their way through a picnic basket that Kai had prepared.
Uruha remembered the wind whipping at his hair, speckling the blonde ends with a light layer of salt crystals as he pushed his aviator sunglasses further up his nose. For most part, Uruha enjoyed just sitting in the sun, letting it warm his shoulders that were bare as a result of the tank top he wore.
Aoi however, took the opportunity to go surfing, something he had done a lot of during his younger years. This time he managed to rope Reita into doing so as well, so both of them were having a whale of a time at the edge of the shore.
“You know, one fatal mistake and we could lose our bassist and guitarist in one swoop, you do realise that don’t you Ruki?” Uruha said, which the vocalist answered with a light snort before going back to his magazine.
Chuckling to himself Uruha went back to looking at his two bandmates who were obviously getting ready to plunge back into the ocean. From where he was sitting he could just make out both of their forms, clad in slick Neoprene wetsuits holding their boards as they gazed out at the sea.
Suddenly, Aoi turned and waved to the rest of the band, his arm sweeping a wide arc until Kai waved back cheerfully. Because of his sunglasses, Uruha saw Aoi bathed in this kind of amber pink hue, which blocked out the harshness of the sun.
Uruha didn't know what it was that made his heartbeat suddenly speed up. Aoi certainly didn't look any different from how he looked day-to-day. His hair was still naturally jet-black, which Uruha thought was still the best look for him, plastered in against his face in stringy strands.
But maybe it was the way he held his face up, which made the sun catch the planes of his face. Or the way his eyes lit up as he signaled to Reita the best wave to catch.
Maybe…
But Uruha couldn't continue the thought as Aoi turned his attention back to the waves and dove headfirst into the breakers.
***
Uruha remembered the first time Aoi had said, “I love you”.
It hadn’t been long after that trip to the beach that Uruha had come to Aoi with a proposition. Their hours were long, their schedules grueling, so it made sense to the blonde to turn to his bandmate to take the edge off.
And of the other members of GazettE, Aoi was the most logical choice. Uruha would never sleep with Reita, and Ruki for all their fooling around on stage was a little too high-strung for him. And sleeping with Kai would be like sleeping with his mother.
“I don’t want to be alone.”
That phrase had become their codeword as such for when either of them needed some company.
It had been a particularly hard night. Nothing went right during the live and subsequent management meeting, which left Uruha feeling irritated and antsy.
Uruha remembered practically dragging Aoi into his hotel room, almost ripping off his jeans as he pushed him onto the bed. Uruha knew exactly how to get Aoi’s engines going, where to touch, where to suck and where to caress.
His fingers had been buried inside Aoi only for a few moments before the older man had tossed him a condom and the lubricant. Uruha’s slide into his Aoi’s body had been easy and familiar, his cock tight inside the older man as he fucked him until they both blew.
Yet, one round had never really been enough for them. Hence why Uruha wasn't surprised when Aoi woke him up barely an hour later with his mouth on the blonde’s cock. Aoi’s horniness was also probably due to the fact that Uruha rarely ever topped, liking how he could manipulate the older man until he was practically begging to fuck him.
However, there was something distinctively different about this time. Aoi moved a lot slower, took his time a lot more when it came to pleasing the blonde. Aoi’s mouth never seemed to leave Uruha’s sensitive nipples at all during that night, bruising them with love bites and kisses, making him shudder.
And when Aoi finally rolled a condom over his own cock, Uruha wasn’t play-acting when he begged the older man to take him. He hadn’t remembered wanting Aoi so much before, so much so that when he drove his cock into him, Uruha had to bite his lip to suppress a cry that would have been to him, indecently loud.
Uruha remembered feeling every thrust that night, how Aoi had felt so good between his legs, practically turning him inside out. And when it was all over, Uruha remembered feeling this quiet exhaustion that was no less satisfying, as he leaned on Aoi’s shoulder.
But what Uruha didn't like was what he heard Aoi say as he was drifting off to sleep, which made his eyes instantly snap open.
“I love you Uru..”
“Damn you Aoi, not that,” Uruha cursed inwardly as he kept his gaze downcast so that he was watching the rise and fall of Aoi’s stomach. A part of him knew that Aoi was waiting for an answer, any kind of reaction from the blonde.
But Uruha was simply not ready to give any kind of response, so he just kept quiet. He would continue to pretend to sleep, so that he wouldn't have to. And a part of him hated Aoi in that moment, hated that he was going to ruin something that Uruha had become comfortable with, which he depended on.
So he kept silent, controlling his breathing until he heard Aoi sigh as he found an answer not forthcoming and turn away.
And in that instant, Uruha felt relief. But he also felt like a complete and utter worthless shit.
***
Uruha remembered how he and Aoi had ended it all.
Until this day, he wasn't sure exactly what had ended. It wasn't their friendship, because they were still friends albeit it at arm’s length. It wasn't their professional relationship, because The GazettE was still going strong five years in.
And it was in no shape or form a relationship. The closest he could describe it was a fucked up arrangement that he knew had to end one day.
The reason it had ended was fucked up as well. Simply put, Uruha couldn't deal with the fact that he wasn’t Aoi’s first homosexual relationship. Aoi had confessed to him a couple of weeks before that he had been involved with a guy before, his ex-girlfriend’s brother who had offered him some comfort after their breakup.
At first Uruha had wondered if the relationship had been just physical, but the way Aoi spoke about him made the blonde realise it was much more. Aoi had loved this guy, adored him, had been wistful over him.
To most people it would seem irrational, but again Uruha supposed it had to do with his competitive streak. Wasn’t it normal for guys to always want to be the first at anything?
So why couldn't Aoi understand that after Uruha had took pains to explain it to him. All Aoi could do was look at the younger man in disbelief.
“Are you shitting me Uru? Seriously? Just because you aren’t the first guy I’ve ever been with?” Aoi said, his voice hard with anger and his knuckles white.
“It’s more than that Aoi. I feel you are constantly comparing me to this guy. It’s like when I break a date with you to hang out with other people, you get this look in your eye that says ‘he would have never done that’, and it’s tiring,” Uruha had replied.
“Even when we have sex, I get this feeling I’m not arousing you as much as he did or drive you as wild as he did. I can’t fucking take that kind of pressure Aoi! Not on top of every other pressure in my life,” Uruha added as he started to clean out the drawer that Aoi kept especially for him.
As he started to pick up more and more of his stuff, Uruha knew he was doing the right thing. He didn't like that he had started leaving more stuff at Aoi’s place, that he even had a drawer at the older man’s place.
You didn't do that if your attachment to someone was casual. You did that with a long-term lover, which Uruha didn't think he could be with Aoi.
Uruha expected Aoi to be mad at him, for his quick-fire temper to inevitably rear its ugly head. He had always hated that about Aoi, his quick blow-ups and even quicker bouts of forgiveness, which never felt sincere.
But he wasn't expecting that when he looked up to see Aoi looking at him steadily, sadness and resignation mingled on his face. Uruha’s fingers itched to brush back Aoi’s hair that had fallen against his cheekbones as the older man drew a deep breath.
“Aoi…we are still friends you know. You are still my other half in the band,” Uruha said, as he tried to soften his leaving. Uruha saw Aoi’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and held out his hand.
“Key then, please Uru,” Aoi said quietly. A part of Uruha felt shocked at Aoi was giving up so easily, but it was quashed by the part of him that said that this was exactly what he wanted.
Pulling the key out of his pocket, Uruha dropped it in Aoi’s hand and then wrapped both their fingers around it.
“See you at practice then Aoi,” Uruha said as he let go of Aoi’s clenched fist.
“See you Uruha,” Aoi said as he stuffed the key back into his pocket. “You know your way out,” he added as he walked out of the bedroom into his kitchen leaving Uruha alone holding his bag of clothes.
Letting out a slow breath, Uruha grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way through the door. As he shut it behind him, Uruha was suddenly struck by a feeling of déjà vu, of another door he had closed in a similar manner so long ago.
And just like last time, there was a pain in his chest that lingered for longer than he would have liked it to.
***
Uruha remembered when he had felt true jealousy.
Usually Uruha was pretty immune to the green-eyed monster. He knew what he was, and what he could do. He knew he was gorgeous, he knew he played like a demon possessed on stage, with fingers that flew over his frets with barely a slip.
It was this assurance in his talents that gave Uruha an almost bulletproof like confidence. If he saw someone else doing better, he simply took it as challenge to do better, succeeding most of the time.
In fact, there were so few things in life that he coveted that it made it hard for him to feel truly envious of anyone as comfortable as he was in his own skin.
So why was it he held this almost murderous urge towards the actress that Ruki had chosen to star in their Pledge video?
Uruha remembered narrowing his eyes as he watched the playback. She was pretty, there was no question, but then Uruha had come into contact with lots of pretty girls in the industry.
He didn't know why it bothered him so much that the video seemed to showcase a number of shots of her horse teeth or her flared nostrils. And the pettiest grievance he had was that when she ran crying in the rain, her perfectly straight hair never got wet.
It was a shame though, because he actually really liked how they had superimposed him in the mirror by Aoi as they played their guitar duet. So what if it was so clearly staged for them to do so, with management knowing that the fans liked the contrast between the guitarists, both in looks and playing styles.
One so dark, the other so light. One so quiet, the other so outlandish. Night and day.
They had done so many photoshoots to that effect that it was practically a given whenever they were interviewed or shot together that one would be in black, the other in white. It was cheesy, but it worked so well visually that it could hardly be faulted.
Funnily enough, although they had to produce artificial rain during the shoot, it had actually started to rain once shooting had wrapped. The night rain that carried with it the scent of frost and dissolved exhaust that made Uruha sneeze.
Uruha had finished changing and was getting ready to leave when he saw Aoi chatting with the actress by her trailer. Something about the comfortable way they were interacting made Uruha grit his teeth. Aoi was excitedly showing her something on his iPad, which she reciprocated by showing him her phone.
“Talking about Twitter no doubt, don’t let it get to you Uru.”
Uruha jumped as Reita suddenly appeared to his left, his bag slung over his right shoulder as his left hand held his helmet.
“What shit are you talking about Rei?” Uruha snapped as he stuffed his hands deep into the pocket of his jeans.
Instead of answering, Reita just gave Uruha this look with a raised eyebrow as if to tell him to cut the bullshit. But the bassist didn't say a word and simply just shrugged and walked away.
“Your ride is ready Uruha,” one of the band’s minders said with a polite bow as he indicated a sleek black sedan to the guitarist. Nodding, Uruha tore his eyes away from Aoi and the actress as he got into the car and slammed the door a little harder than he would have liked.
As the car drove away, Uruha leaned against the window and watched out of the corner of his eye as they drove away from the shoot’s location, the figures becoming blurred as the spotlights cast a halo around the entire scene.
God he was tired, was Uruha’s only thought as he half-closed his eyes against the glare of the streetlights. Placing his fingers against the window, the glass felt cool against his fingertips as he absentmindedly traced each raindrop until he fell asleep.
***
Uruha remembered when he had felt true hope.
Not saying that he didn't acknowledge that it existed. Rather Uruha actually never believed in putting too much stock in hope, knowing how paralysing it could be
He did believe that too much hope was among the worst of evils, for it prolonged torment. . It froze you in place, rendering you unable to take a step forward, just leaving you in limbo.
That is why he believed in a quote by Nietzsche, which said something in that vein, which he had heard on this silly American drama that Reita had become addicted to called Criminal Minds.
It wasn't really his cup of tea, but he had found himself watching it regardless, the throwaway nature of the show making it a guilty pleasure whenever he didn't want to think too much.
What he did like however, were the quotes they uttered at the beginning and the end of the episodes that seemed to frame the hour so well.
But when Uruha truly felt hope, it came in the most unexpected form.
He had been at Aoi’s apartment, along with the rest of the band completing songs. Aoi’s apartment was the most logical place for them to work before going into the studio given the amount of equipment he stored there.
Uruha had always teased Aoi that all he was missing was the soundproofed walls, which the older man took on the chin with a smile. But Uruha couldn't help smiling when he read Aoi’s tweet about making a curtain in lieu of proper padded walls.
Although it took most of the day, finally all five of them were happy with that they had created and slowly took their leave until it was just left the two guitarists. Uruha remembered being in torn jeans and a black long-sleeved sweater, cradling his acoustic in his lap as he sat across from Aoi.
“Stop taking pictures of me Aoi,” Uruha has snarled as the older man snapped him bouncing his crossed legs along with the melody. Aoi, who was in torn jeans himself, simply gave him a smile and a wink.
“Oh come on Uru, people know that offstage you are a ragamuffin when you dress, this is simply proof. It makes you more approachable,” Aoi chuckled as he picked up his own acoustic.
For a moment, they both played in comfortable silence as they worked on a melody that Ruki had written for them until they got it right. Uruha glanced up every once in a while and smiled at Aoi’s face of concentration as a pick perched between his lips.
Although most would have not known it from looking at them, it actually took a lot of work on both their parts for them to reach this level where they could work with each other without some kind of awkwardness.
Besides, Uruha had always liked Aoi’s apartment, with its plushy furniture and well-stocked fridge courtesy of Kai. He liked it so much so that he wondered fleetingly why didn't they spend more time here when they were screwing around.
“I’m not keeping you from anything important, am I Aoi?” Uruha asked as he placed his guitar in the case. Aoi shook his head as he pulled his hair back and secured it with a rubber band.
“Nothing really, my evenings are pretty free these days,” Aoi said ruefully as he reached for a cigarette. Uruha raised an eyebrow as he waved away the smoke wafting from Aoi’s direction.
“What happened to that girl you were seeing?” Uruha asked he sat cross-legged on the floor and scrolled through his iPhone.
“We ended it,” Aoi said with a careless shrug. “She wasn’t really prepared for how I lived. I mean, at the beginning she said she was but I guess its harder when you become faced with the reality that your boyfriend is never around.”
Uruha gave a short laugh.
“I hear you man, they never are prepared are they?” Uruha said as he ran a hand through his hair, as memories of previous girlfriends with the same argument flickered through his mind.
“How are you taking it though?” Uruha asked.
Aoi shrugged his shoulders again as he stubbed out his cigarette.
“I’ll live, there will always be others. One day I will find a girl who will actually be okay with my schedule for once and not be so clingy,” Aoi said emphatically.
“Not if I get to her first bro,” Uruha laughed as he punched Aoi in the shoulder, which made the older man give him a mock wounded look, which was ruined by the grin he sported.
It was such a simple conversation between friends, yet one that was surprisingly intimate as well. They were talking about their love lives after all, but there was no mention of them getting back together, of what they both once shared.
And just like that, Uruha felt hope where there was no indication of it.
As he went home, something niggled at Uruha. Another quote he had heard from that damn show, which echoed in fragments in his head and wouldn't leave him alone.
When he got home, Uruha immediately went online to search for it. It was a surprisingly difficult task, as he couldn't actually remember which episode it was, and there were so many quotes about hope that it was dizzying.
And even when he found the episode, he cursed when he saw it was in English. It took him a while to find a proper Japanese translation for it, but when he did Uruha found himself just staring at the screen for the longest time as he read it over and over again.
“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul, and sings tunes without words, and never stops at all.” - Emily Dickinson.
***
Uruha remembered the exact moment that he fell in love with Aoi.
It had been early morning and Uruha had parked his car at Aoi’s place as they both decided to walk to the studio that they were recording at that particular day. It was near his place and it was much easier to walk and it was such a lovely crisp morning that Uruha hadn’t minded Aoi’s suggestion that they do so.
After such a long and harsh winter, it was finally spring as indicated by the copious number of trees in bloom as they walked through the park. It was so quiet that Uruha could hear their mutual breathing and the crunch of their boots on the gravel.
After a difficult March, Uruha was glad that everything was slowly getting back to normal despite the specter that was still up north. In the end, life had to go on as hard as it was, there were still deadlines to meet and music that needed to be recorded.
Uruha knew Aoi felt the same as he walked instep with him, his head titled upwards to look at the blossoms on the trees. Usually the cherry blossom trees would be awash with a soft pink, but there was something different about these sets of trees that lined the path they walked on.
These trees in comparison were almost a bright pink, the colour vivid and startling against the peach pre-dawn sky and the gray concrete path where some had fallen free from the branches.
In fact, the colour of the flowers exactly matched Aoi’s new hair. Uruha had remembered laughing under his breath when Aoi showed up looking like some anime character with his shocking pink hair. But is suited him for some reason, even if it did make him visible from miles around.
This morning, Aoi had been wearing his battered fitted leather jacket and a knit cap that only made visible the very tips of his pink hair. He had also abandoned his razor for a few days, which made him sport a five o’clock shadow that he kept rubbing at with the back of his hand.
And all of a sudden, Aoi turned and smiled at him.
And everything clicked into place for Uruha.
All of the emotions that Uruha had ever felt for Aoi crowded around his heart, making it hard for him to draw a breath. It was in that moment, he remembered everything that Aoi had ever done for him, from getting him a cup of coffee to holding him when he had a bad day.
Memories suddenly spooled in his mind of the nine years they had known each other, scenes from every day life playing like a film montage. The bad times, the good, the sheer joy, the heartbreak, Uruha felt it all in that split second.
“Aoi…”
Aoi only managed to turn his head slightly before Uruha cupped his face and kissed him, allowing the blonde only a glimpse of the surprised expression in his irises before he closed his eyes.
In that kiss Uruha poured out all he could not say in words, all the half-shaped apologies and weak declarations that wouldn't have done him justice. He kissed him and kissed him until they were both breathless and needed to pull away.
“Uru…”
“I don’t care if I’m not your first Aoi. I just want to be your last,” Uruha confessed, his fingertips tangled in Aoi’s hair as he refused to let go, even as the older man reached up and tried to loosen the blonde’s grip on him.
“Uru…” Aoi repeated only to be kissed again. When he pulled back, Uruha only moved enough so that their noses were still touching.
“I want you to be the last person I will ever love Aoi,” Uruha said softly. Uruha knew his words and actions were sudden, and that they had so much to work on. But he knew that what he said to Aoi was the honest truth.
“Uruha,” Aoi said making Uruha look at him with worried eyes as he kissed the blonde on the forehead.
"Yes Aoi?"
“You were always mine.”
As Aoi followed up his words with a kiss, Uruha felt a warm relief spread through him. Maybe Aoi always knew that Uruha would come back to him, stubbornly holding on to threads that were gossamer thin with an iron grip, refusing to let go.
Refusing to let him go.
Memories, Uruha had a lot of those, dog-eared snapshots that he kept in the album of his life to remind him where he had come from and where he was going.
And in that moment, Uruha hoped that he would remember the rest of his life with Aoi in it.
***
The End
***