Let it never be said... // Chapter 3
After several managers and crew members had just about ripped out a least half of their hair, the five handsome and talented members of Gazette had finally arrived back to the live venue. Reita had kicked Aoi at least three more times on the way back to due to the guitarist's constant nagging and teasing-or maybe even curiosity-about how great Ruki was in bed; honestly, Reita was getting tired of kicking Aoi in the ass.
But at the moment, the blond wasn't really thinking about Aoi-or his ass. His mind was currently preoccupied with a certain redhead who did a really shitty cop imitation and who had somehow, for some unknown reason, shocked him so completely that he was frozen; immobile and unable to do nothing else but look back at those big brown eyes of his friend; eyes that were usually so calm and laughing but at that moment-backed into that small corner of the store-had held something else that he'd never seen before. And for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it was or why it was making him sit there like he was; alone in the dressing room with his costume only half-way on, his hair still un-gelled and various makeup products that still hadn't managed to make it onto his face sitting on the counter in front of him. When he looked up into the mirror again, he started a bit at the light blue eyes looking back at him.
"Ruki you scared the shit outta me."
The vocalist sat down in the chair next to Reita; twirling a lock of red hair further up and frowning when it refused to cooperate. He looked towards the bassist's state of being completely not ready and snorted a bit. "What's the matter? Forget how to do your makeup?"
"For your information, I'm just not used to not having the makeup artists and all here." The bassist replied as he glared at Ruki out of the corner of one un-lined eye.
"In other words you forgot."
"Yeah...basically."
Ruki laughed and tossed a bottle of gel towards Reita; landing with a soft thump in the bassist’s lap. "At least gel your hair first."
The bassist sighed and picked up the bottle, running the gel through his fingers and spiking his hair into the ever-lovely Reita-fauxhawk. "Good?" And he turned toward the younger man for approval.
"Good." Ruki nodded as he glanced over at the jacket to Reita's Burial Applicant costume still lying across the back of his chair. "And don't tell me you hate the outfit."
Reita shrugged as he began sifting through the various makeup products on the counter in front of him. "It's too hot to wear right now."
And indeed-Ruki noted-the bassist did look a great deal more comfortable in the black tank top he was wearing; thin black fabric clinging to his toned frame somewhat loosely but certainly not hiding the muscular frame beneath it. Ruki found himself staring at this body, eyes subconsciously moving to toned shoulders and then finally resting on the blond’s collarbone and staring almost transfixed at the way it seemed to look so inviting to him...
"Oi Ruki, is this one the eyeliner?"
The vocalist snapped out his daze as he looked at the small tube his friend was holding up. "No Reita. That's lip-gloss."
"Well how am I supposed to know?"
"Well for starters," at this Ruki took the small tube from Reita's hands. "Eyeliner doesn't come in a tube. Here."
The older man took the dark black eye pencil from Ruki's hands; how the vocalist had managed to find it so easily was a mystery to him but nonetheless he opened the top and began to apply it to his eye.
Muah.
Reita stopped and looked into the mirror at the reflection of Ruki; newly applied gloss shining on his full lips as they pursed into a pout that pointed directly at him.
MUAH. And again, the vocalist made another obnoxious kissing noise at the bassist; his lips still pursed but his eyes dancing with the laughter his mouth couldn't make at the moment.
"Ruki, knock it off. I can't concentrate." Reita shrugged his shoulders and brought the pencil back to his eye; he'd conquer this bitch if he had anything to say about it.
MUAAAH.
This time it was right by his ear and he visibly jumped. When the blond looked back at the mirror he noticed a long black streak running from his left eye to his temple. "FUCK. I give up."
Ruki began to laugh, resting his hand against the bassist's chair and doubled over in laughter as said blond glared towards the ground and crossed his arms. "It's not like...I'm used to doing this anymore or anything..." he muttered quietly under his breath.
"No, no Rei. I'm not making fun of you, it's just..." he reached for a nearby towel, dabbing a bit of makeup remover on it and wiped the black streak from the bassist's face. Taking the pencil in his own hands he finished softly, "Here, let me."
He reached towards Reita, holding the side of the bassist's face gently in his left hand as he raised the pencil with this right. "Close your eyes, Aki. It's easier that way."
The older man obeyed, feeling the pencil run from the inside corner of his eye to the outside in one fluid motion. Damn. Ruki made this shit seem easy.
"Aah, sorry. This may be awkward for like two seconds."
Reita just shrugged as if to say, whatever but his nonchalance quickly faded as he could sense Ruki's presence growing closer. That same tingly feeling he'd felt run down his spine in the store returned as he could feel the younger man's breath on his cheek; knowingly fully well that if he opened his eyes, he'd see Ruki with his tongue caught between his lips as he concentrated to make everything perfect.
As he felt the pencil lift off the outer edge of his eyelid he did open his eyes. Except the Ruki he'd expected to see wasn't exactly the Ruki he was seeing. This Ruki was calm, and confident, eyes staring through light blue contacts directly into his own, not moving away; just arresting him where he sat. Ruki placed his hands on both armrests on either side of Reita; his face moving closer. And for the second time that day, the bassist found himself immobile under Ruki's presence. It wasn't pleasant neither was it altogether unpleasant, it just was; and despite being a rather strange situation, Reita found that at that moment he was okay with being frozen because for some reason…he really didn't want to move.
Ruki's face was so close now that he could almost feel the vocalist's breath on his lips; blue eyes still not looking away as they held the older man in place.
"Looks good." And with that Ruki raised both arms off the armrest and turned back to the mirror leaving the bassist where he sat, dark brown eyes still staring straight ahead before flicking straight to Ruki's reflection in the mirror as the vocalist stood fixing a last minute spike of his hair. "What?"
Receiving no answer from the blond, he turned to find Reita looking at him; unable to discern what kind of emotion the bassist was conveying-whether it be conscious or not. He instead chuckled and grabbed Reita's jacket off the back of his chair, tossing it back into the taller man's lap. "Come on, if you don't hurry up we're gonna be late."
And then the redhead was out the door, leaving Reita sitting alone where he'd left him; completely speechless.
The crowd was a dull roar before the stage, and everyone was a bundle of nerves, ready to step out onto the actual stage as their intro music started up. Uruha and Kai stood likewise, arms crossed and expressions serious, completely taken in by the sounds of shrieking voices in English, French, German, bits of Japanese. Ruki waited quietly as well, though not so seriously, but peeking out into the area through which they would soon disappear onto stage and bouncing on his heels. He ran his fingers through his hair and messed with his rings, straightening out his sleeves, his pants, looking about importantly at the crew members that walked about backstage in headsets with mics.
Reita swore if Aoi did it again, he would fucking kill him. So he had had a moment of weakness, he begrudgingly admitted. He had been a little too caught up with his thoughts of the vocalist, breath rushing across his face, eyes deep and clear, as he artfully worked his cosmetic skills across his face, easily fixing the smudged mess of his own creation beforehand. And so he had walked out into the hallway, shrugging his jacket into place thoughtlessly, only to have Aoi smack him unexpectedly across the back of the head.
"Why, Reita, what is that thing in the middle of your face?" The older guitarist spoke, a visage of imitated shock, "Uruha, what would you call that?"
"Could it be a nose?" The blond tilted his head with a thoughtful expression, playing along.
Aoi drew back in shock and leaned forward suddenly to squint intrudingly into Reita's face, "So that's what one looks like, is it!"
"I get it. You can sod off, now." The bassist had muttered and returned sullenly to grab his nose-band from where it lay forgotten upon the make-up counter. He was certain he had heard Ruki's distinct sniggering from the hallway as he did so.
And now Aoi was eyeing him again, in that way he always did before he was about to make a lewd comment. And it wouldn't be the first in the past few minutes. And if he really did do it again, Reita was certainly going to kill him.
"You shut up."
The older man blinked as though taken off his guard, "I wasn't saying a thing."
"You were thinking it." The bassist accused lowly.
"I wasn't."
It was Uruha who spoke next, "Next time I conveniently forget how to do my make up, I'll know what to do."
Aoi snorted.
Reita smacked him.
"I didn't say anything!"
The music swelled, and the fans gave a cry.
"Showtime." Kai grinned and lead them out.
The screams were a dull thunder in his ears, the mass of swaying bodies before him moving and pounding to the heat and energy that seemed to resonate from the stage. Thousands of young girls and even a few young men screamed his name; screamed all of their names. Tossing their hands in fervent movements toward the stage almost as if they wanted to be one with the music itself.
Ruki let his lips curl into a grin; hair matted to his head, sweat making a slow path down his neck and back. The vocalist stepped up to the small riser in front of him, tossing one arm out to the side as he held the mic to his face with the other, finishing out the last note of the song with one sexy and finely tuned vibrato growl that could only come from this beautiful and tiny powerhouse. He trailed off, the growl rumbling low into his throat as he let the music continue to pound through his body, arms reaching out as if to bring that energy to him.
It was there, throbbing and pulsing around him. Hot, rough, and wild. And he fucking loved it.
Each instrument faded out as the song ended, Ruki letting his arms fall slowly to his sides only when he heard the last softening pound of Kai's drumsticks, the low bass fading out at the same time.
Ruki quickly turned to face his band mates, first Aoi and Reita, a quick nod to Kai and a small grin towards Uruha; an unspoken communication between them that could only come from years of friendship and wild concerts.
Just before turning back, the redhead caught Reita's eye again, the bassist's chest rising and falling steadily; the small V of skin showing beneath his jacket showcasing a smooth plane of glistening skin. The blond looked back at Ruki and gave him a grin; Awesome job we're doing, right? he seemed to say. But somehow when he met Ruki's gaze, he got the feeling that the live wasn't the only thing the vocalist was grinning about. Apprehension dancing along his consciousness and only growing when he saw words form on the younger man's lips.
Maybe it was just the noise of the crowd, or perhaps Ruki hadn't said anything at all. But Reita could swear up and down that it almost looked like, "Just watch me."
The vocalist moved with the grace of a feline predator, steps gauged as he moved about his mic stand, fingers running smoothly down the metal pole before detaching the microphone again and moving almost without thought as the heavy, pulsing sounds of Maggots started up, directing him automatically into bending and snarling into the mic. He moved and directed the crowd before him, for this time both an instrument and a conductor; in his complete element. Which for everyone else concerned, could be a very dangerous place for Ruki to be.
One last glance at the bassist confirmed that.
He was facing the crowd, moving before them, moving with them. Bending and shaking to the music, throwing his small frame into the sound, and not faltering for a minute in the incredible heat that assaulted him from the crowd below nor the violence of his motions, nor the intense pressure upon his body to move.
He screamed and moved and when the time for his yelling took pause for a minute, his attentions moved away from the crowd, to the mic in his hand, pulling himself from the raised platform before him and back to the open area of the stage. He licked his lips suddenly, one last glance at the crowd, a devious glint to his blue eyes, and then moved his lips over the tip of the microphone and drew it into his mouth completely, sucking hard. The music was accelerating, swelling, and Ruki moved the mic. He slid it in and out, once slow, again quick, eyes hooded and body bending as his other hand moved and reached for the bulge at the lap of his black costume, grabbing at his crotch almost roughly; for an instant an image of intense, unfulfilled need.
His breath hissed, pulling the mic from between his lips again, but drew to a sharp moan as he tilted his head, before pulling it out and running his tongue smoothly down the full length of the mic and back up to run over the tip again. His lips glistening with the moisture of the sweat that now covered his body and the trail left by that smooth, seductive tongue.
The song continued, riling up again, an extremely well-covered fumble of bass strings going almost completely unnoticed to anyone, and Ruki continued, screaming just as ferociously as before. Only after the last word did his eyes move back in the direction of the blond bassist. He had caught that blunder; had worked for it, listened for it, and reaped the sweet accomplishment of what he put into it. The smirk twisted upon those smooth lips was one of victory, though his countenance remained deceivingly nonchalant.
Reita's eyes narrowed at that smile, the blood pulsing through his body almost audible in his ears, his breath a little more uneven than before. His fingers remained still, if not strained upon his bass strings; his mind was racing.
Reita cursed softly under his breath, pulling off his jacket and laying it across the chair in front of him. He rarely fumbled like that. Of course there was the occasional screw-up during practice but at a huge live like this? Never happened. It was driving him crazy. The rest of the band members had long since removed their costumes, having already put on their tour shirts and were now chatting amicably by the water cooler out in the hall. The blond looked back up to the mirror, frowning as he noticed some of his makeup-Ruki's recent handiwork-sweating off his face. "I fucking hate these costumes."
Reaching for the hem of his shirt, the bassist slowly pulled his sweat-drenched tank top from his body, carelessly tossing it to the ground near him. He spun around a few times in search of his tour shirt. Always the organized one, the half-naked blond walked around the room a few times; returning to the makeup counter and checking underneath of it. Nope, not there either.
Suddenly, his body grew hot; a smoldering glare burning into his back. Turning without a word, Reita stared back at exactly who he knew would be in the doorway.
Ruki stood leaning in the door frame; his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk dancing across his handsome features. His eyes made a slow and deliberate path from the boots at the bassist's feet and all the way up, slowing as they reached a flat and toned abdomen and chest; an action that did not go unnoticed by the man under said intense observation.
"Looking for something?" Ruki quipped, smirk not budging.
Reita shifted uncomfortably. Sure, he'd be shirtless in front of his band mates before. Hell, he'd even seen more than enough of Aoi on more than one occasion because the snarky guitarist seemed to have a completely nonchalant attitude when it came to being naked. His eyes met Ruki's again and he felt heat flush over his body for reasons he couldn't understand. This wasn't normally something strange or out of place for them so why were the hairs on the back of his neck standing up; his pulse quickening?
"I can't find my shirt."
"Well obviously. Unless you're planning on going out there like that." He chuckled a bit. "Although I'm pretty sure you'd send all of the Parisian girls out there into spasms." Ruki crossed the room, bending over in his all-too-familiar and all-too-tight black jeans directly beside Reita; digging in the bassist's duffel bag for something. He raised his right hand about three seconds later, black tour shirt in hand. "Found it."
The bassist grabbed the shirt and slipped it on, tugging it down over his body and straightening it out over his hips. "Thanks."
Ruki only nodded, taking a seat in the chair across from his longtime friend, and looking at him. Not in any particular way, and not in the way that he had before.
"What?" The bassist asked, bottle of water halfway to his lips as he looked back questioningly at the redhead.
"I heard you."
Reita paused mid-sip; hoping his eyes wouldn't give away his apprehension. "Heard what?"
"You. Fumble."
The bassist finished swallowing and looked away, finding one of his discarded belts a lot safer than staring back into the pressing and heated stare of Ruki's currently blue eyes.
"You never mess up." The vocalist looked up again, commanding the blonde’s eyes back to him. "Something on your mind, Aki-chan?"
Reita felt the heat rise to the back of his neck again. But this time it was out of frustration; almost anger. Ruki knew exactly what he was doing while Reita didn't even have the faintest idea. He shrugged, eyes narrowing as they glanced back at Ruki. "Shit happens. People mess up."
"Uh-huh."
"You're one to talk," and at this he re-capped his water bottle and pointed it directly at Ruki, "...you've messed up announcing songs dozens of times."
"Touché."
Reita nodded, feeling confident that he'd won this battle. Begrudgingly he realized that this was the first one in a while.
"So…were even now right?" the blond spoke with a sly grin.
The vocalist stood again and made his way to the door, almost completely out before he rested his palm against the doorknob. When he turned to Reita again, that surge of heat came rushing back; an almost predatory gleam in the vocalist's eyes. "Not even close."
And then he was gone, once again leaving the bassist alone with his swirling thoughts and his over-heated body. He was confused, he was annoyed, and above all he was determined. Determined as all hell to beat Ruki at whatever little game he was playing.
If Ruki wanted to play, he'd play.
He watched the door for a moment longer after Ruki had left, bringing a hand up absently to rub at his momentarily exposed face. He grabbed the strap and fastened it back in place before heading out after him.
When they re-entered, the lights of the stage beat down upon them, the heat drawing beads of sweat before the action had even started up again. They took their places again, drowning themselves once more in the rancorous screams of the crowd and took their cue.
One song passed and the audience was alive, a swarm of head banging and raised fists. Two songs passed and Ruki's panting breaths were picked up by the feed of the microphone in his hands. After three songs the livid beats of Kantou filled the air, and without question, the atmosphere became somewhat hotter.
Reita's fingers glided gracefully and with careless precision over the strings of his bass, his eyes moved over the crowd nodding in a cocky manner and making a rude gesture over the break with his fingers. Out of the corner of his eye he watched as Aoi, having previously switched positions on stage with Uruha at the other end, headed back to their side, jumping slightly on his way. The blond guitarist threw him a flirty glance as he passed; it was then that the bassist caught his vengeful idea.
With a carefully concealed smirk, he moved from his position, slightly back towards the speakers, and closer to the front, setting his sights discreetly upon the vocalist. He took note of the shorter man, microphone once again in its stand, moving one hand up and down the metal stand and the other hanging to his side clutching a water bottle, waiting for a moment at which he would surely spray the heated bodies that moved before them. He tilted his head back slightly, hips seeming constantly in motion and legs straddled in his standing position.
The bassist moved, directing his easy stride in the direction of the vocalist. He approached with a confident step until they stood even, hiding the mischievous gleam in his eye when the shorter man glanced to acknowledge him at his side. He kept his eyes on his bass, moving forward until his own legs straddled the vocalist's where he stood.
When he looked up, Ruki was giving him a contained, only slightly questionable look, obviously not quite certain of the bassist's intentions but making no move to stop him.
Reita merely met the gaze and let up on his strings, pressing forward and dipping slightly to move against the vocalist's thigh. It was not a lasting moment, and in a second he was making to move away once more, the screams of a league of fan-girls following his every movement now.
The vocalist was still, almost floored by the movement but hesitated only long enough for the bassist to regain his footing before he responded. With hardly a whole step to the right he followed the bassist, surprised even more when the bassist lifted one arm, wrapping it around the shorter man's neck and curling it slightly to pull him closer, as though drawing him into a trap.
The cocky gleam in his one visible brown eye was enough to keep the vocalist silent for a moment longer. His mind was working fast, however, and without delay his left hand moved, raising the water bottle before him and positioning it on his groin.
Reita did not let up, despite the sudden, enticing way in which the vocalist ran his tongue across his lower lip. A warning.
And then his other hand had moved, tracing down one side of the water bottle and moving fast up it again. He began to move his hips, pressing the bottle into his crotch and moving his hand, rubbing along the side of the plastic. Back and forth, intense, almost violent motions, building and persisting with the music until a moan rolled from pouted, blushing lips and the hand gripping the bottle squeezed tightly, water erupting forth from the spout of the bottle and spraying the audience below.
The vocalist never looked away.
Ruki's hands frantically fumbled at the doorknob; his mind incapable of working properly as he was being rather forcefully pushed against the cold wood of the door. He had no idea where they were, only that somehow after the live they had managed to get backstage; separated from the rest of the band and now doing something less than chaste in a dark corner in the back of the live house.
Did he know where was? Did he care? Fuck no.
Reita's lips were hot and moist against his own; the bassist working against his mouth almost roughly. But he didn't mind. He'd never imagined his lips would be like this. I mean, sure he'd thought about it once. Ok, so a couple of times. Alright fine, so he'd tried to imagine what kissing Reita would be like more than a few times. But he never dreamed it'd be like this. Fuck he tastes good the vocalist thought to himself; hands finally getting the door behind him to slide open with a soft creak.
Both men stumbled into the darkened and small room; hair clinging to their faces and neck from the perspiration of the live; their lips never parting as both men struggled for dominance over the other's mouth. Reita's hands gripped the vocalist's small hips almost possessively, his thumb subconsciously stroking the smooth skin above Ruki's tight black jeans just beneath his shirt.
The vocalist brought his hands up toward the taller man's black tour shirt, gripping it forcefully by the collar so as to pull the blond closer to him. He stepped backwards; keeping the bassist's heated body as close to his own as possible. Feeling his feet hit what he assumed was a couch, Ruki's lips formed a devilish smirk into the kiss.
With the skill of one who had clearly done this before, Ruki turned on his heels, not letting up his grip on Reita's collar as he turned and roughly pushed the blond onto the cushions of the sofa as he tumbled on top; their lips finally parting.
The younger man panted softly as he looked down to his band mate and longtime friend. Everything in his mind was telling him that they shouldn't be doing this. That he shouldn't be making out with his best friend in a dark room with complete disregard to the rest of the band and whether anyone knew where they were or not. But at this point the only thing that made sense to him was his body and how it ached, screamed to be where it was right now; straddling the bassist and hidden away from the rest of the world.
Ruki looked down onto said bassist with heavy-lidded eyes; eyes that had so often seduced throbbing crowds of fangirls but that now hungrily devoured the enticing image before him. The older man was also breathing softly and somewhat irregularly, his chest rising and falling with each breath; blond hair matted to his head and neck still drenched in sweat, his dark eyes even darker as they gazed back up at Ruki; seemingly unfazed by being trapped beneath him.
The shorter man spoke the first words that had left either of their lips since the live ended. "Fuck you look hot, Aki."
And with that, Ruki lowered himself seductively onto Reita's body, capturing the bassist's mouth and sucking gently on his lower lip. The blond responded almost immediately; his hands finding their way right back to Ruki's slim waist; his thumb moving towards the front and gently rubbing his thumb over the vocalist's now prominent hipbone and stroking it ever so lightly.
But Ruki wasn't satisfied with just that. Reita had been able to touch his body but the vocalist still hadn't had the chance to get his hands on the lithe and toned figure beneath him. Reaching towards his waist, the redhead made a move to extract Reita's hand from his hips but thought better of it. Instead he let the hand that had been resting on the bassist's chest trail down the warm and somewhat damp cotton of Reita's t-shirt; the fabric clinging to his body in a way that made Ruki's hands even more curious to remove it. He reached the hem of his shirt and paused; he knew that the exposure of skin for the bassist was something rare; perhaps why he unintentionally had not been able to stop staring at the blond back there in the dressing room. Yet now here he was, thin black fabric the only thing keeping him from what he had already seen but had never been able to touch. Again he smirked into the fervent kiss and ran that seductive tongue over Reita's bottom lip.
His hands finally slipped under the cotton and he laid his palm flat against the damp skin of Reita's stomach; his mind silently both envying and coveting the smooth skin taut over well-defined muscle; teasingly running his fingers over the definition of the bassist's abdominal muscles.
Reita made no move to stop him, only kissed Ruki back with the same amount of passion; occasionally moving his fingers from Ruki's hip to move to the flat but softer skin of the vocalist's own stomach. But then his breath hitched and the muscles in his stomach tightened as one bold finger dipped below the top of his jeans and then yet even bolder beneath the band of his boxers.
Ruki couldn't stop himself; he was horny, he was ready he was-
Beep beep beep beep!
...he was beeping?
Ruki's eyes snapped open almost immediately, looking about blearily in a mild panic only to find himself alone in the dark. He stilled after a moment, slowly remembering where he was and how he had come to be there. He leaned back in his seat, sighing silently against the dull roar of the tour bus beneath him. They were back on the bus on the way to London, driving through the night, not even twenty-four hours before their next performance was to begin.
He leaned back in his seat as far as possible, groaning as his mind ran over the dream he had been so suddenly stirred from, making him begrudgingly aware of the situation in his lap. He forced his attention away from that, drawing his legs up into the seat his small frame already occupied, effectively imitating a ball. His phone beeped again and he began fumbling about his pockets for the small device, wondering who the hell had his rental number and was texting him in the middle of the night.
Aoi.
His eyes scanned over the romanized letters slowly, his mind substituting the letters with their appropriate Japanese characters.
I can hear you moaning all the way back here.
He snorted, highly doubting that he had actually been doing anything of the sort and responded.
I was not. You sick old man.
There was a slight delay in which he peered down the row of seats to his right, cleverly imitating a couch or seating area of sorts. Across the way, one of the younger roadies seemed to have passed out in a position very much similar to his own. They hadn't celebrated much after the live, every one focusing rather seriously on making time to London for the next live, yet it had apparently been enough. Remembering it somewhat hazily, he recalled that he and Reita had barely made eye-contact all evening, much less instigated a heated make-out session on the couch.
Just remember to clean up your mess before we get up. You perv.
Ruki's eyes widened a little and he typed his response quickly.
I will make your life hell.
Haha. You can't.
You just wait until you wake up in the morning.
Ooo, I quiver beneath my sheets.
Tell Takashima to stop that. >D
I'll kill you. D:
Ruki snorted and dropped the phone back onto the seat beside him and leaned back to stare out the window across from him. The darkness around him remained only interrupted by flashing artificial bars of light against the walls of the tunnel through which they passed. They cast a flickering, orange glow upon the small area of the bus in which he sat, silhouetting the drooling, sleeping roadie across from him and the pile of bags he sat beside. The seats in their rows. Kai's laptop on standby sitting atop a small table.
His eyes ran over it all and acknowledged none of it. In his mind he was still gazing over a slender, toned figure that stared him down with a defiant gaze, yet tugged at his hips and the fabric of his shirt impatiently. It was both a fantasy and a problem, and it took more than a little effort to pull himself out of it yet again, eyes returning once more to the monotony of passing orange lights, though his breath remained somewhat hurried to his own ears.
Things always seemed much clearer in the dark. And there he was in the dark, in the middle of the night, somewhere half a world away from home. Maybe it was as his father had said to begin with: he really was a fuck up.
He heard the sound of rustling to his left and turned slightly to gaze down the small bunk-area, where Aoi probably lay restlessly, Uruha passed out, and Reita asleep, Kai having left the bus earlier to ride with one of the managers before they left Germany. Ruki himself had never made it far enough back that evening to really make use of that stiff, uncomfortable bunk area. And when he thought about it, he was really more comfortable where he was.
The rustling, however, increased, and manifested itself through the pitch darkness into a pale, shirtless figure with messy blond hair and a pair of sleepy, blood-shot brown eyes. Those eyes squinted closed, a hand raising up to rub at them briefly before they peered in his own direction.
"Ruki?"
The vocalist was still for a second before nodding.
Reita continued to peer at him blearily in the darkness before getting up rather clumsily and stumbling down the opposite end of the row into the bathroom without a word.
Ruki watched him silently, eyes watching the shirtless, uncoordinated form as though it were a ghost-- something to be feared, yet he could not remove his eyes from it. Even after the door had closed he continued to stare for a long moment, and when he finally moved again, he buried his face in his knees, raising his arms around them.
Of all people. Him.
He was such a fuck up.
To be continued...
AN: This chapter is dedicated to
sideshow_emma and based on this post. :) Thanks, Emma!