Fanfiction: Idol and Idolatry (oneshot)

[lady_sb]

Title: Idol and Idolatry
Fandom: Dir en grey, Sadie
Pairings: KyoxMao
Rating: NC17
Spoilers/Warnings: AU, sex and drama
Disclaimers: I don’t own them, I’m not implying any of this is true, God really isn’t that nice to me.

Summary: Mao is an upcoming star, driven by his manager Kyo who was once a star himself. Some think Kyo is living vicariously through his protégé, while some think Mao is just hoping for more….

A/N: For the direngrey_yaoi secret santa challenge. Had a hell of this time with this one, but hopefully it turned out okay ^^ Comments are loved and appreciated.



Idol & Idolatry

***

Some say, I’ll be better without you,
But they don't know you like I do,
At least the sides I thought I knew.

***

There was something addictive about spotlights.

The way it seared your skin like a chemical burn. How it dilated your pupils until your irises almost disappeared and solar flares exploded behind your eyelids.

For Kyo, the response was almost Pavlovian. The minute the spotlights came on, his hand twitched as to reach for his mike, his fingers going to his ears to adjust his earpieces. He could feel the thrum of the crowd in his bones, and the mist of guitar string silicone filling his nose.

When a stagehand tapped him on his shoulder, Kyo tensed and had to force himself to take a deep breath to maintain his composure before stepping out on stage.

“Is Mao ready to go on?”

Then reality kicked Kyo in the balls that this spotlight wasn't for him. It hadn’t been for a very long while now. And in that moment, Kyo experienced the death of his career all over again.

Shooting the stagehand a withering look, Kyo felt a spark of satisfaction at how he seemed to cower beneath his gaze. He then gave a curt nod and turned on his heel towards the direction of the dressing room.

“It’s time to go on Mao,” Kyo said as he opened the door and saw his young charge still sitting in the makeup chair. Mao nodded his head and waved away the makeup artist before getting to his feet and turning to face his manager, all the while still tweaking his cuffs.

“Ready to rock n roll Kyo,” Mao said, his mouth curved in a cocksure smile, his game face clearly on. Kyo could not help but offer up his own satisfied smile as something akin to pride swelled in his chest, he certainly knew how to pick talent.

Sometimes it still knocked Kyo back a step at how much Mao resembled him. Both were of similar height and stature, with features that at a glance could pass almost as identical. Even the tone colour of their voices was eerily similar, right down the nuances and vocal ticks.

It was only on closer inspection that someone would notice that Mao’s features were actually more boyish then Kyo’s, the similarities played up through cosmetics. And not only was his stage persona heavily inspired by the older man’s but his singing style was more taught than inherent like Kyo’s.

Regardless, Mao could at least hit the high notes in his songs. Something Kyo could no longer do.

“Then get the fuck on with it then Mao,” Kyo said gruffly. “Make them scream and cream their panties.”

Mao nodded and started to walk out, but paused when Kyo did not move to follow him out like he usually did. He reached out a hesitant hand to place on his manager’s shoulder.

“Is everything okay Kyo?” Mao asked, as he tried to keep the concern from weighing his voice down too heavily.

Kyo simply grunted and shrugged off Mao’s hand with a nod. Mao took it as a hint to not push things further, and walked out surrounded by his minders, hoping that he had managed to hide the worry in his eyes.

Kyo knew he should have gone out with his protégé, but tonight he simply he did not feel like it, jealousy stinging him with its poisoned barbs.

Kyo had been a star…once.

Years ago nobody could have touched him. His raw star quality and multi-layered voice, coupled with his intense stage performances simply blew everybody else out of the water. The depth and complexity of his lyrics, together with his “fuck what everybody else thinks” attitude won him almost rabid devotion.

Then one day, they discovered a minute polyp on his vocal chords. A week later it ruptured, rendering his God given gift nothing more than a rasping croak. Now when people talked about him, it was always with a pitying note in their voices, talking about how much potential he had.

Kyo hated that fucking word, potential. Its very meaning mocked him, talking about what he could have been, what he could have accomplished. Kyo had never been one for regret, so why talk about it when it ultimately changed nothing.

In his mind, lost potential were simply alternative words for has-been.

*

As strange as it seemed, Mao could not remember a time in his life that did not include Kyo.

Even before Kyo plucked him from obscurity, Mao had idolised the older man. How could he not really? Even in a city as big as Kyoto, Kyo was some kind of legend, adored even more by the home crowd for the fact that he never forgot his roots. His very stage name was homage to where he had grown up, a proud Kansai boy if there ever was one.

But more than that, Kyo’s music spoke to Mao when he needed it the most. Mao didn't know what to do with his life until one day a friend bought him Kyo’s album as birthday present. From the first note to the last scream, Mao had fallen for the voice on the record even before he knew the face behind it.

As soon as he could, Mao cut and bleached his hair until it was the consistency of straw. A butterfly, similar to one that Kyo had before his arms became full sleeves, soon adorned his left shoulder. Mao also developed a taste of piercings, going beyond just his lip and eyebrow to his throat and chest.

He also dropped out of school and started recording demos, much to the dismay of his parents. The early years were lean, but it was worth it when one day Kyo picked up his demo out of sheer luck, and decided to take him under his wing.

It was then that Mao learned that his childhood idol, who had inspired him countless times throughout his life, was actually most of the time, a right asshole. As emotionally unavailable as a cactus, and twice as prickly.

Mao looked up from his drink, and suppressed a wry smile as he saw Kyo whispering sweet nothings into the ear of a pretty young thing he had met an hour before.

It wasn't something new. They were at an after party, thrown by the record label, to celebrate the end of Mao’s tour. Situated in one of Tokyo’s hottest clubs, there were certainly no shortage of groupies and hangers on.

Not for the first time, Mao felt envy pool in his stomach when he saw Kyo’s hand touch the girl’s thigh, teasingly rubbing the hem of her skirt. Her coquettish laugh and hand in Kyo’s shoulder-length ash blonde hair made him just clench his glass even harder.

Mao recognised the irony of the situation, here he was, jrock’s hottest upcoming star with a future so bright it needed shades, and he was the one getting the least amount of tail.

Not that he was lacking for offers, more like he didn't like his options.

“You know, if you stare at them any longer, that girl is going to burst into flames.”

Mao looked up as a handsome man with ebony hair and a chain dangling from his lip to his ear took the chair next to him.

“Or maybe that is what you want to happen, isn’t it Mao?” Aki said dryly as he called for the bartender. Mao had to chuckle at his childhood friend’s dark sense of humour even though the truth in his words hit too close to home.

“It’s okay, it's Kyo. He will do what he wants,” Mao said quietly. Aki rolled his eyes at his friend’s acceptance of the situation before shaking out a cigarette from his pack and offering Mao one. Mao gave a fleeting thought about his voice before shrugging it aside and accepting a stick.

“How long are you going to do this song and dance Mao? You know that he is using you don't you? Please tell me you aren’t that stupid,” Aki said, his normally calm voice carrying a tinge of frustration.

Anger flashed through Mao’s veins but he would not be baited. He knew that with Aki his intentions were pure, with only Mao’s best interests in mind. But it didn't mean that Aki, who was a businessman at heart, was above serving his own needs.

“Are you sure you aren’t just trying to persuade me to make you my manager instead Aki?” Mao said pointedly, causing Aki to raise an eyebrow.

“I’m actually hurt that you would say that Mao,” Aki said, his words coming out with a huff of smoke.

“Are you saying it’s not true?” Mao said as he drained his glass dry. Aki shrugged as he poured Mao another shot from the bottle on the bar.

“I’m not saying it’s not, but still I’m hurt,” Aki said with a flickering smile. But that disappeared when he saw the look in Mao’s eyes when he glanced up at Kyo.

His heart aching a little for his friend, Aki placed in arm over Mao’s shoulder so he could pull him closer. Aki’s breath in his ear caused Mao to shudder a little from the barely there contact.

“In all seriousness Mao, following him, giving into him, doesn't do the both of you any good. Kyo is trying to relive his career through you and by doing that you don't get a chance to grow out of his shadow.”

Aki pressed his lips to Mao’s cheek and murmured, “In an effort to mimic his voice, yours gets lost in the process. And that is damn shame, because I know how gorgeous it is.”

Mao felt a shiver run through him at Aki’s touch, as it brought up memories of a time when they had been closer than they were now.

“Loyalty is admirable Mao, but don’t live your life hoping for a maybe…”

“If you’re going to kiss me Aki, just do it, I’m not going to stop you,” Mao interrupted the other man, turning his head slightly so that Aki’s lip ring grazed the corner of his mouth.

“But don't ask me to leave him,” Mao said quietly. “Because, Aki, you see…”

“So since you can’t get him to sign with you, you’re just going to seduce him instead, eh Aki?”

Mao and Aki jumped apart at the sound of Kyo’s voice, both of them turning to see him glaring at them, his eyes boring into the two men like gimlets.

Aki’s dark eyes narrowed as he possessively pulled Mao closer.

“Jealous, are you Kyo?” Aki taunted, and Mao inwardly groaned when he saw ire stain Kyo’s neck a flush red. Aki really never did know when to leave well enough alone.

“I’m not getting in the middle of this,” Mao muttered as he stood up and started to walk away only to have Kyo grab him by the wrist, immobilising him.

“Stay away from him Aki,” Kyo warned, which Mao found both endearing and annoying in equal measure. After all he wasn't some piece of ass for two guys to fight over, he had some pride.

“You don’t own him Kyo. And one day, mark my words, he’s going to realise that he deserves better than you,” Aki all but growled. In one quick move, Aki closed the gap between him and Mao before capturing the shorter man’s lips in a rough kiss, causing the shorter man to let out a gasp.

Before either Mao could react further or Kyo could retaliate, Aki stepped away and tossed a few bills on the table.

“See you around Mao,” Aki said, his voice even once more before melting into the crowd, his hand lifted in a careless wave with Kyo’s glare piercing the back of his head.

Once Mao had recovered, he sighed and turned to Kyo, only to have his heart sink to his stomach at the older man’s face that was as dark as thunder.

“I don’t like that man,” Kyo said with a near growl. “Mao you stay away from him, God only knows what he will try to do next.”

Despite his earlier trepidation, Mao felt his earlier spark of annoyance flare up into a full-blown flame. But before he could get it under control and apologise for his friend, Kyo said, “And you should know better, kissing a guy in a public place like this. What will your fans think?”

“What’s so wrong about them thinking that I have somebody Kyo, even if it is a guy? What’s so wrong about them knowing I like guys and like it up the ass sometimes,” Mao spat out the words before he could stop them.

For one of the few times since he had known him, Mao had managed to render Kyo speechless, his mouth slightly agape. But before he could answer back, Mao grabbed the anger that was pulsing through him to give courage.

“You can fawn over all the girls you like, and I can’t get kiss from a friend?” Mao said, a spike of jealously now colouring his tone. It actually surprised Mao that even when it came to Kyo, his patience wasn't bottomless.

“I’m not the one with a career to ruin Mao,” Kyo snapped.

“No, you are the one with no career,” Mao answered back, only to clasp a hand over his mouth when he realised what he had said.

Kyo balled his hands into fists so hard that the bones in his fingers hurt. His breath had become harsh as rage all but blinded him.

But just as he took a step forward, Mao retreated a step back, his eyes unreadable as he dropped his hands by his side.

“I didn't mean that Kyo,” Mao said quietly, but the regret was clear in his voice. “I better go now, we can’t talk to each other like this when we both are so worked up. Maybe we need some time to cool off before we talk about this.”

“What makes you think we can talk this out? Or that I even want to talk to you again?” Kyo said scathingly.

But instead of answering, Mao simply grabbed his coat and headed towards the door. The cold night air managed to diminish the red in his cheeks caused by the argument and the whisky he had drank.

Remorse weighed his every step, but still a part of him simmered, filling his mouth with bitterness. He had to force himself to remember what it was that still held on to Kyo.

Beyond just what he felt for him, Mao recalled memories of how Kyo went to the mat for him on several occasions, negotiating deals, making sure that there were no compromises when it came to his career.

So that Mao didn't end up the pawn of some record company, his music and image peddled without his approval. Of course this had made them unpopular with a number of record labels that bristled against Kyo’s impossibly high standards.

And when times got hard, Kyo had never stopped encouraging him, reassuring him that he believed in him and was in it for the long haul.

In fact, that was the single most overriding reason why Mao stuck with him. It was what he was about to tell Aki earlier before Kyo had interrupted him.

Because you see Aki, he fights for me.

*

It wasn't until he heard his doorbell ringing on loop did Mao realise that he had fallen asleep on his couch.

“Who the fuck…” Mao mumbled groggily as he scrabbled around for his phone, flipping it open to reveal that it was 3:30 in the morning.

As the ringing got more insistent, Mao almost fell off his couch as he scrambled to his feet. He was still in such a daze that he didn't even bother to check who it was on the other side of the door before he opened it.

But his head immediately cleared when he opened the door to reveal Kyo on the other side, standing as still as a statue. The older man had not changed from what he had been wearing earlier, still dressed in black dress slacks and a white open collar shirt. The suspenders that had been holding up his trousers were now off his shoulders and dangling down from his waist.

As Mao opened his mouth, Kyo interrupted him with a snarled, “You ungrateful little shit.”

Mao’s eyes narrowed as he tried to get a rein on the feeling of angered annoyance that sprung up in his chest. It was bad enough that he was dead dog tired, and after being woken up the first thing he had heard was an insult.

“What are you doing here Kyo?” Mao asked tiredly, having not enough energy to even acknowledge the snide.

But instead of getting sniped at, Kyo simply shrugged and looked off to the side.

“I don't know,” Kyo answered honestly, which Mao found surprising as his anger was replaced by curiosity. For a few moments, the two men just stood there as Kyo refused to meet the younger man’s eyes.

“Do you want to come in?” Mao eventually said politely. Kyo simply nodded in response, and walked into Mao’s apartment, kicking off his shoes along the way. As Mao slowly closed the door behind him, he felt the tenseness from earlier in the evening weight heavily in the air.

Mao closed his eyes as he leaned against the wood, trying to stall from actually facing the other vocalist, wary of what he would find when he looked up. However, as he turned around, the last thing he expected was for Kyo to pin him against the door and kiss him.

As Mao’s mouth opened involuntarily from shock, he felt Kyo’s tongue slip between his teeth to graze against his own. And without even thinking about it, Mao kissed him back, responding purely on instinct stemming from years of wanting to feel Kyo against him this way.

Kyo groaned deep in his throat when he felt Mao respond, his fingers bunching the sides of the younger man’s shirt as he moved to the waistband of his trousers. In response Mao threaded his hand through Kyo’s bleached hand, hanging on as his knees felt weak.

As Kyo wound an arm Mao’s waist to bring him closer, the younger man could feel their cocks brush against each other, even through the pleats of fabric. But a voice in the back of Mao’s head kept screaming that this wasn't right, that there something was amiss.

It took all of Mao’s strength to place his hands on Kyo’s shoulders to push him back. This broke the kiss and left both of them breathing heavily and just staring at each other.

“What…what was that Kyo?” Mao asked, even as he tried to bring his breathing back to normal. Kyo was also flushed, but his uninterested expression didn't change as he simply shrugged.

“I wanted to kiss you, so I did,” Kyo answered simply, causing Mao to grit his teeth.

“This is not some attempt to one up Aki, is it Kyo? Because I’m sorry, you are already a few years too late,” Mao almost sneered. “I’m not something to be possessed Kyo, so don't try and fuck me as some kind proof of ownership.”

“It’s not that you idiot, I want to fuck you because I want to get you out of my damn head!” Kyo almost yelled back. “After you left, I was just so bloody mad that all I wanted to do was either hit you or fuck you!”

Mao was so shocked that all he could manage was a tentative, “Oh”.

“And don’t you even dare to deny that you want me. So what will it be Mao? Either try to take a swing at me, or lets just get this over and done with. It’s either a bruised jaw or getting rid of blue balls, take your pick,” Kyo taunted with his arms folded across his chest.

Mao’s eyes narrowed as he felt something inside him snap. Biting his lip so hard it almost bled, the younger man dropped to his knees and started tugging at Kyo’s trousers. Licking his lips, Mao pulled out Kyo’s cock and went straight for the tip, sucking it hard until he felt a salty wetness on his tongue.

Kyo couldn't stop a groan from escaping his lips when he felt Mao taking more of his cock in his mouth, travelling halfway before pulling back momentarily and going back in. Mao even dared to give Kyo’s balls a hard squeeze, making the older man jump back with a hiss.

As they stared down each other, Mao got to his feet while wiping his lips before rubbing the same hand on his shirt.

“I’m not into pity fucks, Kyo,” Mao said, even as his courage suddenly turned shaky when it dawned on him what was happening. But he fought to steel himself as Kyo’s eyes hardened.

“Neither am I,” Kyo answered before pulling Mao by the lapels of his shirt for another kiss, melting the other vocalist’s last inch of reserve.

As Mao lead Kyo to his bedroom, he felt the older man fumble at his fly before finally zipping it open and reaching in to grab his dick. Mao moaned softly even as he reached for the buttons of Kyo’s shirt when he felt the other vocalist’s fingers rub along the shaft and brushing against the piercing at the tip.

Mao’s reaction made Kyo raise his eyebrow quizzically momentarily, slowing down the previously frantic pace as he looked down and pulled the waistband of his briefs back so that he caught a glimpse of metal.

As he pushed Mao back on his bed with little ceremony, Kyo pulled down the younger man’s trousers further along with his underwear so that he was naked from the waist down.

Mao tried to not let embarrassment crowd his throat as he saw Kyo looking at cock, which was already hard and jutting out slightly from his pelvis, the metal balls on either side of the head glinting slightly.

The younger vocalist felt his heart sink when he saw Kyo smirk and take his cock in his hands. Gingerly he let his tattooed fingers rub over the sensitive skin around the piercing, which made Mao’s back arch slightly.

“You are certainly full of surprises Mao,” Kyo chuckled as he bowed his head and lashed at the tip with his tongue. Mao hissed between his teeth as Kyo let his tongue wander all over the metal, curling and tugging so that he felt it right down to his balls.

Suddenly Kyo stood up, leaving Mao feeling bereft and struggling for control. As he propped himself up on his elbows he saw Kyo turn away and undo his trousers, letting it fall to the floor along with his underwear. Kyo then busied himself taking off his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders until it too was on the floor.

Mao felt himself draw a breath as Kyo’s tattooed back was presented to him. He had seen it before of course, but only in passing and never this close. This near he could see every burst of colour and swirl of gold surrounding the Buddha that sat in the centre, its many arms snaking across the canvas of his back.

Inching closer, Mao stretched out his hand so he could touch each inked line, his fingertips pressing against the flesh and felt the slightly raised skin. At first Kyo flinched, but then stood still as Mao followed his fingers with is mouth, kissing each of the open palms, down the sensitive curve of his spine until the small of the back where a row of lotuses sat.

“Fucking gorgeous,” Mao couldn't stop the compliment from slipping from his lips, causing Kyo to turn around, his eyes opaque with lust. Pushing the younger man back against the bed, Kyo palmed Mao’s nipples as he sunk his teeth into the juncture of his neck. Mao responded by digging his nails into Kyo’s forearms and felt the older man’s cock jump.

Kyo let go of Mao’s neck so he could travel lower, tracing each groove of his chest with his lips, pausing only that metal bar that decorated the other vocalist’s sternum. The flesh was so sensitive that Mao squirmed as Kyo sucked at the bar, until he decided to take pity on him and moved to his nipples. Kyo didn't even think twice before biting down, causing Mao to arch against the bed.

“Again Kyo, again…” Mao breathed as Kyo complied, biting and tugging so that the entire areola felt bruised. Kyo snaked one hand lower along Mao’s stomach until he reached his penis, squeezing harder than intended when the younger man reciprocated by jerking off his cock.

Kyo growled deep in his chest as he forcefully spread Mao’s legs wider. He wanted a quick fuck and suddenly everything seemed to slow. Reaching lower, Kyo let his fingertip press dry into Mao’s entrance, letting him know that he wasn't going to wait.

Mao got the hint and moved to the side to grab something from his bedside drawer. With a practiced hand, he found the lube and a string of condoms in their jeweled red cellophane packets, which he then tossed on the bed. As another thought flashed through his head, Mao reached out again, this time for a pack of wet wipes.

Kyo grinned wryly in appreciation as he grabbed the wet tissue and used it to wipe Mao between the legs, the gauzy fabric rubbing tantalisingly across the taut, drawn skin.

Kyo then tore off one of the condoms, and dripped lube over his cock before rolling the rubber down his shaft. The tight fit was pleasurable enough, but the wet slickness was icing on the cake.

As he did so Mao reached for the lube and spread it over his own fingers. His throat tightened as he pressed two fingers inside himself, forcing the muscle to stretch and relax. His desire ramped up and his mind went cloudy when Kyo added a finger of his own and started thrusting.

No sooner had Mao withdrew his fingers did Kyo replace them with his cock. Mao’s sharp indrawn breath was matched by Kyo’s as he sunk in deeper until he was buried to the hilt, his balls pressed against the younger man’s ass.

Kyo didn't even wait before starting to thrust, knowing that Mao wouldn't mind the slightly burn. True enough, Mao simply drew up his legs up higher, opening himself wider so that Kyo could move easier.

“Give in Mao, come on,” Kyo mumbled incoherently, his thumbs tracing across the other man’s cheekbones and lips, right down to his chin.

With every sharp thrust, Mao could feel his control fray, the strings snapping as Kyo just fucked him as hard as he could. There was still a subtle burn of pain low in his belly but when Kyo moved just right, Mao could not help but to throw his head back with a moan.

The thought that Kyo, who he had wanted for so long was actually fucking him was almost too much for Mao to handle. But then Kyo moved again and Mao found himself grounded by the pure physical pleasure he was feeling.

Then Kyo’s mouth was pressed against his again, and Mao responded with almost feverish kisses, nipping and sucking on the older man’s tongue as it tried to get deeper. Mao could feel rather than hear Kyo’s groans as his hips moved faster and faster, the pace almost punishing.

Then suddenly Kyo pulled out, and Mao felt himself being flipped on his stomach before being pulled up so that he was kneeling with his legs folded beneath him. He threw his head back again when Kyo placed one hand on his stomach and used the other to guide his cock back in.

Mao then sat back up so that he could sink back on Kyo’s lap, with the latter’s cock fully back inside him. He clung on to Kyo’s forearms as he felt him start to move again, pistoning his hips upwards so that Mao’s cock slapped hard against his belly.

Kyo gritted his teeth as he moved his pelvis forward his sharp, jerky thrusts so that he was as deep in as he could possibly be. The heat from Mao’s body seeped through the latex, warming the lube so that Kyo felt as if he was fucking him bareback.

Mao’s felt his muscles cramp as he tried to hold his body up as he squeezed the base of his cock so that he wouldn't come too soon.

“Kyo,” Mao breathed as he reached behind so he could tangle his fingers in the older man’s hair. “Please…”

“Dammit Mao, fuck you just cum,” Kyo growled as he slapped Mao’s hand away so he could jerk him off. It only took a few more thrusts and Kyo flicking his thumb against his cock piercing for Mao to climax hard, spunking all over his sheets and his thighs.

Even as Mao clamped around him painfully, Kyo masochistically kept moving for a few more minutes, before he then let go with a muffled groan into Mao’s back, his foreskin dampening further with his semen.

It was only after he had caught his breath that Kyo pulled out, allowing Mao to slump back on the bed. After discarding the condom, Kyo reached for another wet wipe to clean himself before also tossing it into the bin.

As Mao felt his heart slow and the lust finally dissipate taking with it his earlier feeling of courage. Taking its place was a worry that gnawed at him as he wondered what would Kyo do now.

Turning around, Mao found himself face-to-face with Kyo’s elaborately decorated back as he lay down on his side. Mao wanted to reach out, to assure himself at what just happened. But more than that, Mao wondered how this would change things between them, if it did at all.

Silence once again descended on them, cloaking them both in the dark.

“What now?” Mao finally asked softly, tentatively into the shadows shrouding Kyo’s back. He held his breath a little as he watched the muscles around Kyo’s shoulder blades flex and change shape.

“I’m going to sleep, too tired to go home,” Kyo said gruffly, but the angry hoarseness was gone from his voice. Instantly Mao felt himself relax and sink into the down of his pillow, weariness weighing down his eyelids.

Before he realised it, he had fallen asleep with the feeling of cool cotton on his cheek and the smell of Kyo like residual air in his lungs.

*

When Mao woke up, it was to the sound of singing.

The ashes are like flower petals that rise up into the sky…

The words were pretty but the voice singing them was anything but, coarse and ungainly, sticking to individual words like burrs. Yet, there was still an underlying mellowness to the tone that brought to mind dark honey and treacle.

Mao sat up and rubbed his eyes, causing his contact lenses to shift and bring the world back into focus. As he blinked he saw that he was alone and his bedroom door was slightly ajar, just enough so that he could see Kyo sitting on his living room couch that was dark as a result of his blackout curtains.

In Kyo’s hand he had a sheet of paper, which Mao recognised as his, covered in hastily scribbled music notes, the result of his attempt a few nights ago to write a new song. Obviously Kyo had taken it on himself to add words to the music judging by the pencil he was twirling between his thumb and index finger.

After pulling on his boxers and a t-shirt, Mao walked out to the living room, deliberately keeping his footsteps in order not to disturb the older man. However, Kyo heard him anyway judging by how he suddenly dropped his pencil.

“Don’t stop on my account Kyo,” Mao said as he joined the older man on the couch. Kyo shook his head as he turned to his protégé.

“I shouldn't be tampering with your stuff anyway, I know that if I found someone doing that to my music, I would have thrown a fit,” Kyo said with a hint of self-depreciation.

“No, no it's okay. It sounded really…” Mao hesitated before trying to peg a description to Kyo’s penned lyrics. Not because he was scared, more because, as with the man himself, it was hard to choose a word that would serve it justice.

It had always been that way with Kyo’s lyrics, which always managed to tap into a person’s psyche without even trying. Sometimes it troubled Mao that no matter how much he tried, he could never pique a similar response.

But today he pushed that insecurity to the back of his mind as he reached for the sheet music and saw a few more words written on it.

Say goodbye as we torch the fire to the victims that stacked up. The ashes are like flower petals that rise up to the sky.

“Is that how it's supposed to be sung Kyo?” Mao asked. Kyo tilted his head to the side, his eyes semi-closed mentally playing the melody before shaking his head.

“Shorten these sounds Mao and strike a higher key here….”

For a few minutes, Kyo just continued tweaking Mao’s vocal pattern, chiming in certain places so the younger man could get a better idea. Mao noted offhandedly how well their voices blended together, singing the same notes until Kyo was satisfied.

“Very good Mao,” Kyo uttered the praise quietly before lighting up a cigarette.

Mao felt his chest swell a little at Kyo’s words, but when he looked up, he could not help but notice a shape shifting darkness in the older man’s eyes. Even though Kyo never openly spoke about his previous career, it was clear how much he missed it.

It wasn't even about the fame, or its trappings, it had never been with either of them. It was about doing what you were always meant to be doing, and it was clear that a part of Kyo had been starved too long from doing it.

But just as Mao was about to speak, Kyo stabbed out his cigarette and stood up.

“I better go Mao, will see you in a couple days at the office. We need to talk about your next album,” he said.

“Sure Kyo,” Mao answered, swallowing what he had originally wanted to say. “No... no hard feelings, right?”

Kyo shook his head before grabbing his coat and making his way out. In the days that followed, that particular moment would become Mao’s favourite memory of the older man. Kyo with one hand in his pocket walking out the door with his coat slung over his shoulder, his head slightly bowed with his blond hair grazing his cheeks, and a soft barely-there smile on his lips.

*

As he walked into the office a few days later, it struck Mao that he had two options presented before him. Two diverging career paths for him to take, it was just up to him whether to take the one less travelled.

He could choose to follow Kyo as he always did. By doing so, Mao could almost predict how his life would pan out. Sticking with Kyo would almost guarantee that Mao’s career would be successful, albums that would sell and live shows that would sell out.

And he would be with Kyo.

But the other path, his future was murkier. Striking on his own, without the benefit of Kyo’s guidance, uncertain if the steps he took would crumble and give way beneath him. But it would be his voice the people would hear, his vision that they would see unfettered from anyone else’s influence.

More than that, without him to lean on, Kyo would be free to find his own voice again. And Mao would be allowed to make his own mistakes and grow as an artist.

Mao knew that the second option was the best for everyone. But even as his head knew that, a part of him ached at the thought of letting go. And the feeling strengthened when he walked into Kyo’s office and found him deeply involved in some paperwork.

“Good you’re here Mao, we have a lot of work to settle now that the tour is over,” Kyo started, seeming unaware of how rigidly the younger man was standing.

“Say it Mao, say it now….” Mao urged himself in his head, his eyes squeezing shut a fraction before taking a deep breath.

“Kyo, your services as my manager are no longer required,” Mao said, hoping that Kyo couldn't see how much he was trembling beneath his calm tone. Instantly he saw Kyo’s shoulders tense and his mouth set in a hard line.

“What did you say?” Kyo said quietly, dangerously.

“I said that we should go our separate ways Kyo,” Mao said. “The time we’ve been together, it’s been wonderful. Everything I am, it’s because of you…”

“Save it,” Kyo said curtly. “Don’t give me the bullshit. It’s Aki isn’t it, I apparently couldn’t fuck you as well as he did.”

“No Kyo it’s not that,” Mao said firmly, his heart hammering in his ribcage so loud as his blood pounded in his ears.

“For years all I ever wanted to be was you, but I came to the realisation awhile ago that I can’t be. But more than that I don’t want to be you Kyo.”

Mao leaned in closer and placed both his hands on Kyo’s desk.

“I want to be me,” he finished softly.

Mao’s earnestness took Kyo aback, so much so that the older man honestly did not know what to say.

“And you should be you again Kyo. You aren’t meant to be stuck behind a desk managing someone else’s career. It's a waste of your talent…”

“What talent?” Kyo growled. “In case you had forgotten, my voice is not exactly there anymore.”

“Bullshit!” Mao suddenly exploded. “So what if your voice is fucked. So what does it matter if you can’t sing the songs you used to. What happened to the Kyo who told the whole world to fuck off and he would sing what he wanted to? Who bent the world to suit his vision rather than accept convention?”

For a few long minutes Kyo just stared down at his desk, not saying a word. When the silence got unbearable, Mao decided that it was time to leave, but there was still one more thing he needed to do.

Taking a folded piece of paper out of his pocket, Mao placed it on the table and pushed it towards Kyo. He had cleaned up the lyrics as best as he could, and worked through the night to finish the song.

“This song, it's yours Kyo. I could never do it proper justice,” Mao said quietly, as the next words came out in a sigh. “I think I wrote it with you in mind anyway.”

Kyo’s head snapped up as he slowly got to his feet. Leaning forward, he looked Mao straight in the eye.

“Get out,” Kyo said, his voice low and menacing. “Nobody tells me what the fuck to do.”

Nodding, Mao turned on his heel and walked out of Kyo’s office, making sure to close the door behind him. Once he did, Mao felt all his bravado leave him as his true emotions broke through, caving in his chest as a wave of sadness struck him.

But as he walked away, each step felt lighter and Mao gave himself a resigned smile as he reached into the pocket for his phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey Aki, if you’re free, I’ve got a job for you….”

*

The next time Mao saw Kyo, it was one-and-a half years later at the latter’s album launch party, held at the rooftop of one of Tokyo’s most expensive hotels.

Despite both of them being in the industry, this was the first time that Mao had actually run into Kyo at a function after walking out on him so many months ago. This mostly had been due to Aki who insisted that Mao move back to Osaka with him so they could work on his career there.

“Out of Kyo’s shadow,” Aki had reasoned. More like “Out of Kyo’s influence” Mao had thought at the time.

But the break from Tokyo had been good for him. Aki had given him a free hand to compose his music and throw himself into his work. He had been so busy that Kyo was almost never in his thoughts these days.

Almost.

However, there was only so long they could go without meeting each other. Tonight for example, both Mao and Aki were here at the insistence of the label that wanted more exposure for the vocalist.

Mao wouldn't lie to himself however, and not admit that a part of him was a little excited at the prospect of seeing Kyo again. Picking up a copy of the album, which was strategically placed on certain tables, next to iPods for people to listen to it.

Mao smiled as looked at the tracklist and wondered if his song was on it as he popped the earbuds in. As Kyo’s voice came on, Mao felt a familiar tingle in his skin as his chest tightened.

It seemed no matter what the state of Kyo’s voice, he still had it, like Mao always knew he did.

“Well there is the man himself,” Aki suddenly murmured in his ear causing Mao’s head to snap up. And true enough Kyo had just walked into the room, surrounded by his minders, a scowl on his face as flashbulbs popped in his face.

It appeared that some things never changed.

At first Mao wondered if Kyo would be able to spot him among the sea of people, before dismissing the thought. There were simply too many bodies here, plus Mao wasn't exactly the tallest guy there.

“You want to say hi Mao?” Aki asked graciously, even as distaste dripped from every word. Mao smiled and shook his head, simply satisfied to look at Kyo from afar.

Suddenly as if he was aware someone was staring at him, Kyo looked to the side and startled a little when he saw Mao looking straight at him. But even as Mao considered motioning to him, Kyo simply looked away barely acknowledging him.

Even though he had been expecting something like that, Mao still felt his heart ache a little. Although to be frank, Mao didn't know what he had been expecting, some kind of reconciliation maybe, as foolish as that seemed.

“What a dick,” Aki seethed as he caught the exchange between them. But Mao touched his friend’s shoulder to placate him, accompanied with a shake of his head.

“It's okay Aki, really,” Mao said quietly. “Why don’t you go mingle, I’m going out into the balcony for a smoke.”

“Are you sure?” Aki asked in a concerned tone. “Do you want me to go out with you Mao?”

Mao shook his head again. “I’ll be fine Aki, I just need some fresh air if that’s okay?”

Aki nodded in understanding as he gave Mao’s shoulder a squeeze. “Sure, just come find me when you are ready to leave alright?”

As Aki walked off, Mao grabbed a beer from a nearby table before making his way out to one of the many smoking balconies. This one was almost empty, save for the waiter clearing up the empty glasses.

Taking a sip from the can, Mao stared over railing at Tokyo’s bustling nighttime traffic, registering the buzz at the back of his head as he let his mind wander.

“Fuck. I hate crowds, don't you?”

Mao almost jumped when he heard a voice next to him, causing him to spill his beer all over his trousers. He cursed to himself as he frantically looked around for a tissue only to find a familiar tattooed hand extend him one.

“Kyo,” Mao said his name under his breath as he looked up to find his former manager smirking at him. Taking the serviette from him, Mao patted down his trousers as Kyo took out a pack of cigarettes.

As Kyo offered him one, Mao took one with a slightly raised eyebrow.

“Are you sure you should be doing that?” Mao asked cautiously. Kyo frowned at him and defiantly drew out a stick.

“Fuck that, recording is over. One won’t kill me,” Kyo said as he lit it up and tossed the lighter at Mao. The younger man only paused a fraction before placing the stick between his lips and lighting it.

For a few minutes both men smoked in companionable silence as they stared at the Tokyo skyline. But soon Mao found himself fidgeting in his shoes as he gathered the courage to speak.

“Congratulations on your comeback Kyo, I always knew that you could do it,” Mao said without a trace of envy in his tone. Kyo simply shrugged and tossed his half smoked cigarette away and turned to rest his back on the balcony railing.

“It’s okay, at least it will stop my record company from bitching at me,” Kyo said carelessly. Mao was about to laugh at Kyo’s comment when something in the older man’s stare stopped him. There was a softness there that Mao had never seen before and it made his breath catch.

“I did need to find my voice again,” Kyo added quietly. “And I am glad that you are slowly discovering yours.”

It was then Mao knew that Kyo was saying thank you in his own roundabout way. But more than that, the way that Kyo was looking him made Mao wonder about the past, and about the night that they had shared together.

It made him wonder…and hope.

“So, what happens now?” Mao finally asked. Kyo shrugged and leaned back even more on the railing so he could stare up directly into the night sky.

“We go on, we always do. Life doesn't stop and it doesn't hesitate. Maybe we should do the same?” Kyo said casually. Spaces, gaps, so much that Kyo didn't, or more frustratingly, wouldn’t say.

“That sounds like plan,” Mao responded, but the smile that accompanied it hinted that he understood.

Kyo fell silent for a moment as he reached for the younger man, and pulled him closer so that he could kiss him softly, fleetingly on the lips, and in that split-second Mao felt like a teenager all over again.

“I need to go down to Osaka in a few days to promote the album. Maybe I will drop by your studio or something,” Kyo said. It wasn't a promise, it wasn't a commitment, but Mao was okay with that.

“Sounds good,” Mao said softly.

It sounded very good indeed.

***

The End

***