(no subject)
Title - The Invisible Wall (part 2)
Chapter- One shot
Author - Mugimugul
Genre- Romance
Rating - Pg-13
Warnings - … uhh none??
Pairings - Uruha/Aoi
Disclaimers - Sad to say, but I own nothing. (except the story).
A/N: This can be read alone, or with the first part....
It all happened because of a kiss between Uruha and their small vocalist; it had only been fan service of course, Aoi knew that. But that was all it had taken… One simple kiss… and all the self-confidence the raven haired guitarist had painstakingly managed to build up during the course of their relationship came crashing down, ripping a gaping abyss where his heart used to be; shattered shards of his heart weeping forlornly. And he didn’t- couldn’t deal with it; couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt, that it didn’t faze him… Couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t so, so scared, terrified. So he left. Mumbled a quiet excuse as everyone filed past him into their dressing room, and fled. Knowing that Uruha would be worried by his sudden disappearance; that the younger male would be calling in search of him, not understanding what happened, and he would plaster a smile on his lips like he always did as he answered that it’s nothing, I’m fine- because he was, as long as he was smiling, even as salty tracks silently trailed down his cheek- because Uruha could always hear the smile in his voice.
He didn’t want him to see the fear gnawing at him, the insecurity nipping at his heart; Didn’t want him to see the dark jealousy he was tainted with… didn’t want him to see how dirty he really was. Because he loved the other man, and he didn’t want to lose him, to give him any reasons to be tired of him, to not want him.
“… Well, I’m going out with Reita and the others for a drink, so don’t wait up ok? Go to bed early!”
“Uru…” The younger hummed in response. Aoi bit his lip. Don’t go… just come home now, come home to me…
“…It’s nothing. Have fun…”
“Haha ok? You’re being weird today! I’ve got to go now, I love you!!”
“…Do you…?” Aoi could only stare at the phone blankly, his voice coming out as a faltering whisper. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Uruha… no, he would never doubt the younger man… The one he didn’t trust, was himself; he didn’t trust himself to be able to be good enough, interesting enough, to keep his attention on him.
Be strong, Aoi… Everything’s ok... Pretend everything’s ok even if you have to lie to yourself, like you always used to… But the once-upon-a-time-oh-so-familiar action was now so seemingly foreign to him. He was lost, helpless. Vulnerable. And the only one he needed to be by his side, to be cradled in his arms, calm understanding assurances breathed into his ear, silencing his screaming anxieties, wasn’t.
“I need a drink…”He muttered, carelessly grabbing his coat as he left, angry with himself for being so weak; for being so needy of Uruha, for being a (possible) burden to the younger male. God…You’re pathetic, Aoi… It’s no wonder if he’s gets tired of you and leaves… if he hasn’t already gotten tired of you.
Aoi stumbles down the poorly lit roads, giggling in his drunken stupor as he’s dragged into an alleyway.
“Kouyou…?” He breathes, squinting in the gloom as a tall figure looms over him. He feels hands roaming over his body; rough, unfamiliar hands, and he struggles fruitlessly against his anonymous assailant, striking out wildly as he realizes what’s about to happen. He feels his fist weakly make contact with flesh and he almost grins in satisfaction nonetheless, but he’s awarded with a brutal slap that splits his lip and sends his head reeling and he’s slammed harshly into the wall as those hands are back on his body; he feels revolted, repulsed and Kami-sama, please don’t let this be happening; he can’t let this man take him- not when he belongs to Uruha; not when he wants to solely belong to Uruha. He lets out a terrified whimper, hot tears streaming down his cheeks in raging rivers as his pants are violently ripped down; and he’s screaming, crying for Uruha to save him. Then his head thumps against the bricks, bursting into excruciating flames as his consciousness rapidly fades, and he swears he can hear that sweet voice- “Yuu!” And he smiles as he’s snatched away by the darkness.
Kouyou… You came.
When he next opens his eyes, he was lying in his bed, and he startles as he turns and sees Uruha lying next to him. Uruha soundlessly reaches out to him and Aoi shrinks back frantically, strings of horrified no’s and panicked don’ts screaming in the blur of his mind because he’s not worth it; because he doesn’t want to stain those perfect hands, doesn’t want to stain that purity with his filthiness. Because that’s what he is now, isn’t it? Filthy. Uruha lets his hand fall limply between them, making no further indications of wanting to touch him; of wanting him. His eyes are lowered, over brimming with a swirl of unreadable emotions; and hidden beneath the surface of it all, there was a flash of that certain something. And Aoi thinks that the honey blonde must have finally seen it; how dirty, how repulsive… how ugly he is, and he can’t help but be glad among the piercing hurt. Because Uruha deserved so much more than him; so much more than he could ever offer. Because Uruha should have been up there, the beautifully perfect, faultless entity that he was, basking in the magnificent glory with other angels, but he wasn’t and Aoi couldn’t help but feel it was his fault… even more so when he knows he just isn’t worth taking the fall for.
“I understand… If you want to leave…” Aoi whispers, voice broken because all he really wants to do is lose himself in those soothing arms, and hear the silky tones of that gentleness assure him that everything’s alright, even if it clearly wasn’t; because if Uruha tells him that everything was alright, then he knows everything would be alright- he wants to believe, needs to believe that it was going to be ok. But he doesn’t; instead he looks away, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see his beloved leave, knowing that he’ll break if he watches.
“Why would I leave?” Uruha’s baffled reply comes after a brief moment of silence, but it’s strong, unhesitant, but bewildered as if he was being ridiculous. Aoi frowns, glancing back in trepidation, feeling a tingle of excitement, a rush of rising hope as he meets the intensity of those sepia eyes.
“Because…” He bites his lip timidly, unable to finish, to voice out his thoughts; because voicing them would be confirming them- how unclean, how impure he was- and he didn’t, wasn’t quite able to face it yet. But he doesn’t have to- he’s seen it in those eyes; the understanding, the knowing dawning in them.
“Yuu? Look at me,” Uruha coaxes softly, hands enclosing his cheeks in a tender caress, thumbs lightly smoothing away the traitorous lone tears, as if he were precious, fragile.
“You didn’t get raped. Everything’s alright… you’re alright.”
“I… wasn’t raped…?” Aoi draws out slowly, mind whirling, trying to comprehend the new information as he stares dumbly at his lover, disbelief etched on his face. Then suddenly, it sinks in, the tears start falling, and he’s sobbing uncontrollably in the warmth of Uruha’s embrace.
“Kami-sama, I’m still yours…” Aoi chokes out, savouring the rich flavour of relief blooming through him as he repeats those words over and over again. And he doesn’t quite understand why, but when he glances up joyfully as the arms around him tightened, he sees the younger male furiously blinking back tears of his own. He doesn’t understand why Uruha would be wearing such a saddened mask; he doesn’t understand why he would cry- for him? He doesn’t understand how anyone could look so beautiful, so surreal, and yet belong to a mere mortal like himself. He doesn’t understand- but he doesn’t need to, as Uruha murmurs into his ear, “I love you. I’d still love you.” And that’s all that matters, because it’s love, and that’s the man he eternally belongs to- the one and only love he wants.
Chapter- One shot
Author - Mugimugul
Genre- Romance
Rating - Pg-13
Warnings - … uhh none??
Pairings - Uruha/Aoi
Disclaimers - Sad to say, but I own nothing. (except the story).
A/N: This can be read alone, or with the first part....
It all happened because of a kiss between Uruha and their small vocalist; it had only been fan service of course, Aoi knew that. But that was all it had taken… One simple kiss… and all the self-confidence the raven haired guitarist had painstakingly managed to build up during the course of their relationship came crashing down, ripping a gaping abyss where his heart used to be; shattered shards of his heart weeping forlornly. And he didn’t- couldn’t deal with it; couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt, that it didn’t faze him… Couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t so, so scared, terrified. So he left. Mumbled a quiet excuse as everyone filed past him into their dressing room, and fled. Knowing that Uruha would be worried by his sudden disappearance; that the younger male would be calling in search of him, not understanding what happened, and he would plaster a smile on his lips like he always did as he answered that it’s nothing, I’m fine- because he was, as long as he was smiling, even as salty tracks silently trailed down his cheek- because Uruha could always hear the smile in his voice.
He didn’t want him to see the fear gnawing at him, the insecurity nipping at his heart; Didn’t want him to see the dark jealousy he was tainted with… didn’t want him to see how dirty he really was. Because he loved the other man, and he didn’t want to lose him, to give him any reasons to be tired of him, to not want him.
“… Well, I’m going out with Reita and the others for a drink, so don’t wait up ok? Go to bed early!”
“Uru…” The younger hummed in response. Aoi bit his lip. Don’t go… just come home now, come home to me…
“…It’s nothing. Have fun…”
“Haha ok? You’re being weird today! I’ve got to go now, I love you!!”
“…Do you…?” Aoi could only stare at the phone blankly, his voice coming out as a faltering whisper. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Uruha… no, he would never doubt the younger man… The one he didn’t trust, was himself; he didn’t trust himself to be able to be good enough, interesting enough, to keep his attention on him.
Be strong, Aoi… Everything’s ok... Pretend everything’s ok even if you have to lie to yourself, like you always used to… But the once-upon-a-time-oh-so-familiar action was now so seemingly foreign to him. He was lost, helpless. Vulnerable. And the only one he needed to be by his side, to be cradled in his arms, calm understanding assurances breathed into his ear, silencing his screaming anxieties, wasn’t.
“I need a drink…”He muttered, carelessly grabbing his coat as he left, angry with himself for being so weak; for being so needy of Uruha, for being a (possible) burden to the younger male. God…You’re pathetic, Aoi… It’s no wonder if he’s gets tired of you and leaves… if he hasn’t already gotten tired of you.
Aoi stumbles down the poorly lit roads, giggling in his drunken stupor as he’s dragged into an alleyway.
“Kouyou…?” He breathes, squinting in the gloom as a tall figure looms over him. He feels hands roaming over his body; rough, unfamiliar hands, and he struggles fruitlessly against his anonymous assailant, striking out wildly as he realizes what’s about to happen. He feels his fist weakly make contact with flesh and he almost grins in satisfaction nonetheless, but he’s awarded with a brutal slap that splits his lip and sends his head reeling and he’s slammed harshly into the wall as those hands are back on his body; he feels revolted, repulsed and Kami-sama, please don’t let this be happening; he can’t let this man take him- not when he belongs to Uruha; not when he wants to solely belong to Uruha. He lets out a terrified whimper, hot tears streaming down his cheeks in raging rivers as his pants are violently ripped down; and he’s screaming, crying for Uruha to save him. Then his head thumps against the bricks, bursting into excruciating flames as his consciousness rapidly fades, and he swears he can hear that sweet voice- “Yuu!” And he smiles as he’s snatched away by the darkness.
Kouyou… You came.
When he next opens his eyes, he was lying in his bed, and he startles as he turns and sees Uruha lying next to him. Uruha soundlessly reaches out to him and Aoi shrinks back frantically, strings of horrified no’s and panicked don’ts screaming in the blur of his mind because he’s not worth it; because he doesn’t want to stain those perfect hands, doesn’t want to stain that purity with his filthiness. Because that’s what he is now, isn’t it? Filthy. Uruha lets his hand fall limply between them, making no further indications of wanting to touch him; of wanting him. His eyes are lowered, over brimming with a swirl of unreadable emotions; and hidden beneath the surface of it all, there was a flash of that certain something. And Aoi thinks that the honey blonde must have finally seen it; how dirty, how repulsive… how ugly he is, and he can’t help but be glad among the piercing hurt. Because Uruha deserved so much more than him; so much more than he could ever offer. Because Uruha should have been up there, the beautifully perfect, faultless entity that he was, basking in the magnificent glory with other angels, but he wasn’t and Aoi couldn’t help but feel it was his fault… even more so when he knows he just isn’t worth taking the fall for.
“I understand… If you want to leave…” Aoi whispers, voice broken because all he really wants to do is lose himself in those soothing arms, and hear the silky tones of that gentleness assure him that everything’s alright, even if it clearly wasn’t; because if Uruha tells him that everything was alright, then he knows everything would be alright- he wants to believe, needs to believe that it was going to be ok. But he doesn’t; instead he looks away, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, not wanting to see his beloved leave, knowing that he’ll break if he watches.
“Why would I leave?” Uruha’s baffled reply comes after a brief moment of silence, but it’s strong, unhesitant, but bewildered as if he was being ridiculous. Aoi frowns, glancing back in trepidation, feeling a tingle of excitement, a rush of rising hope as he meets the intensity of those sepia eyes.
“Because…” He bites his lip timidly, unable to finish, to voice out his thoughts; because voicing them would be confirming them- how unclean, how impure he was- and he didn’t, wasn’t quite able to face it yet. But he doesn’t have to- he’s seen it in those eyes; the understanding, the knowing dawning in them.
“Yuu? Look at me,” Uruha coaxes softly, hands enclosing his cheeks in a tender caress, thumbs lightly smoothing away the traitorous lone tears, as if he were precious, fragile.
“You didn’t get raped. Everything’s alright… you’re alright.”
“I… wasn’t raped…?” Aoi draws out slowly, mind whirling, trying to comprehend the new information as he stares dumbly at his lover, disbelief etched on his face. Then suddenly, it sinks in, the tears start falling, and he’s sobbing uncontrollably in the warmth of Uruha’s embrace.
“Kami-sama, I’m still yours…” Aoi chokes out, savouring the rich flavour of relief blooming through him as he repeats those words over and over again. And he doesn’t quite understand why, but when he glances up joyfully as the arms around him tightened, he sees the younger male furiously blinking back tears of his own. He doesn’t understand why Uruha would be wearing such a saddened mask; he doesn’t understand why he would cry- for him? He doesn’t understand how anyone could look so beautiful, so surreal, and yet belong to a mere mortal like himself. He doesn’t understand- but he doesn’t need to, as Uruha murmurs into his ear, “I love you. I’d still love you.” And that’s all that matters, because it’s love, and that’s the man he eternally belongs to- the one and only love he wants.