Used and Abused 8/??, AoiUruha ReitaRuki NC-17
Title: Used and Abused
Author: nokutetsu
Beta and Editor: kouchou_kyoushu
Chapter: 8/??
Band: ガゼット
Pairings: 葵 x 麗 (Aoi x Uruha), ルキ x れいた (Ruki x Reita)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Humour, Angst, Romance, AU/AR
Warnings: Swearing, sexual sitations, self harm, homosexual relationships, rape, drugs, overuse of alcohol, violence.
Disclaimer: I wish I did. If I owned GazettE I'd be so rich I'd be eating $100 bills for dinner :/
Summary: Aoi and Reita have an unofficial unsigned contract. If Aoi can sleep with Uruha, the school’s biggest loser, in two months, he get’s Reita’s car. And Aoi really likes Reita’s car.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
A lot of Reita and Ruki in this chapter. But I’ve been getting a lot of people over the last chapters inquiring and showing interest in them, so I thought I’d add more of them in. And Ruki’s fun to write ;P Also, Aoi and Uruha aren't really doing anything, so this chapter would have just been pointless. So I thought I'd use it to develop some ReitaRuki.
It's considerably bright in the confines of the abandoned art classroom, a lot brighter than his home and Ruki is thankful for that as he swipes his brush over the canvas, intending on finishing the painting he‘d started with Reita earlier that afternoon. He's anxious and irritable though, so irritated about Reita‘s abnormal behaviour, and he wonders what will happen if his parents find out. He doesn't want anything bad to happen between the blonde and his family, but at the same time, maybe that‘s what he needs most. He needs to get out and face his parents, because despite the manly and intimidating image, he was really prone to being assertive, too assertive for the vocalist‘s tastes as of late.
He can hear the janitors outside the classroom, wiping the hallway floors and the smell of cleaning products make his nose scrunch in distaste. He’d decided to stay and finish this last painting, to get his art portfolio finished in advance so he would have more time to laze around in general.
Maybe he’d been harsh on Reita earlier that afternoon. After all, he was expected to become a lawyer, to live up to his father’s image, and no doubt his parents wouldn’t take too kindly to finding out Reita liked men. But the idea was just so hilarious- Reita was the last person he’d expected to be queer, if only half. And he wasn’t stupid- no; he knew Reita was crushing on someone, a guy from the looks of things. He makes a mental note to get the blonde drunk before prodding a little more. Obviously it was stressing him out, and to Ruki it wasn’t anything to be ashamed off. Truth be told, he was actually rather upset and hurt when Reita refused to tell him anything, something he’d never openly admit.
He finds his mind drifting to Uruha and Aoi, his lips lifting somewhat at the thought of the vulnerable blonde. He’d never seen someone so sheltered from teenage life; it was a pure joy to fuck around with him. Every expression, every whimper, it fed the side of him that insisted for him to create macabre art. His physical condition had never bothered him before he‘d met the guitarist; in fact, he loved it, felt it was a blessing even. But the blonde had irked him the second he’d met him in class. He was colourful, bright, and yet Ruki couldn’t find any shade or colour to him, and so took it upon himself to change that. The thought of watching the tall blonde abuse himself and watching the colour drip down his arms makes him groan. It would be the perfect painting, the most beautiful scene.
He has no idea why his attention is on Uruha’s pain, exactly. When Aoi had confided in him about Uruha’s self harm, he couldn’t help but wished he’d been there to watch. Blood was something that fascinated him on every level, to the point of disturbing the people around him. Reita and Aoi were the only ones who understood, the only ones to know, and he had no idea how people couldn’t love it. Death’s perfume, liquid life, such a rich, extravagant colour, the tangy taste….
He bites his lip, deft fingers working a huge gash down the woman’s bare back, exaggerating the blood and effect. It’s really starting to come together- to look beautiful in the vocalist’s eyes, and he can’t help but wonder, what would Uruha look like in such a state?
“Takanori-kun, the school will be locked up soon. You can finish your painting tomorrow.” The teacher’s voice interrupts his thoughts, making him sigh and stick his used brushes in the sink, rinsing the red out and watching it disappear down the drain. The water changes from red to faded to clear, and he sticks them away before sticking the lid on his paints.
He steps out into the hallway, pushing the door open and earning a small, tired smile from the janitor, reminding him to be mindful of the wet floor. He waves a hand, signalling he understood and heads for the front doors, heading towards a comfortable seat in a room with his psychiatrist.
Uruha sneezes, wondering briefly if anyone had been thinking about him just then. He brushes it off as superstitious nonsense, before turning his attention back to the task at hand.
He’s lying on Aoi’s bed, playing his PSP and watching Aoi play his guitar in his peripheral vision. It’s a melodic sound; Aoi’s infatuation with acoustic guitars was something Uruha didn’t feel nearly as strong. But listening to Aoi, it was something he considered, buying his own acoustic and joining on him one of these hot days, when the weather was too hot to even bother with.
He sets the game console down, stretching out like a cat and sighing at the scent of Aoi’s bed sheets. It’s comforting, the warmth coupled with Aoi’s scent, and out of all the interesting things in this room, his bed had definitely captivated him the most. Aoi’s hands stop playing for a moment, and he sets the guitar down to reach for his electric one instead, probably to practice what Uruha had been showing him.
“I should play more acoustic.” He rests his chin in his open palm, eyeing the now lonely acoustic instrument in the corner.
“You should see Miyavi on acoustic guitar. That guy makes me look like shit.” Aoi chuckles, and Uruha finds that hard to believe. Aoi was really good with them, his style was perfect. “Miyavi… He’s in my English class.” He murmurs, letting his eyes fall to Aoi’s messy floor. “He’s so scary, worse than Ruki.”
“He’d never hurt you, trust me. He’s tall and covered with tattoos and shit, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly, too scared he‘d go to hell. You wouldn‘t believe he was good friends with Ruki.” The idea obviously amuses the brunette, as if he was remembering some silly memory.
“He seems a little eccentric to me,” The blonde murmurs, watching Aoi plug in his amp.
“Him and Ruki both love their art.” He shrugs, as if it was the only explanation needed. “They both look so serious when they talk about it, it’s weird, knowing what nut jobs they really are.”
Nut job. It was an interesting and vulgar word… but Uruha thought the description fit perfectly. He didn’t know Miyavi well but… Ruki was something else. “How… how can you be friends with him?” He whispered, pressing his face to his outstretched arms. “He’s crazy…” He shivered, feeling a chill run down his spine. Every look, every laugh… every expression, Ruki was a maniac. Uruha wouldn’t be surprised if he grew up to be a serial killer.
It seems Aoi knows this, because he throws the blonde a frown, but doesn’t say anything. But then again, Uruha didn’t expect him to. A silence settles over the room, and he can feels Aoi’s curious stare on him, his head tilted as if considering him for the first time.
“I know they’re your friends….” Uruha feels kind of stupid for complaining about him, no matter how justified he felt his reasons were. “But…you understand right?”
“Ruki has a medical condition in his eyes.” The words are spoken slowly, carefully even, and Uruha blinks his eyes in surprise. “He can only see red.”
“What?” Uruha blinks, eyeing Aoi incredulously. It threw him off guard, dropping the PSP in his hands onto Aoi’s black sheets.
“It’s a long story. But red is the only colour he can see, everything else is monotone.” Uruha shifts, mind racing. He had no idea why he suddenly finds himself so curious about Ruki of all people, but the short artist suddenly seems so much more interesting.
“Don’t look so interested,” Aoi snorts. “It’s just some colour-blindness.”
“I think it’s fascinating.” He murmurs, starting at nothing in particular. Obviously Ruki was much more complex, but the idea of ones eyes only being able to pick up red pigment was an interesting one. “You certainly have an interesting bunch of friends.”
Aoi let out a snort. “Not really. We’re just a bunch of weirdos who get together.”
Uruha didn't respond to that. How could he? Reita was intimidating, though he didn't know much about him. Ruki was a semi-colour-blind shorty with a blood complex, Miyavi had modified his body to the point of no return. He didn't get out and socialise at all, so he had no idea what to make of Kai, other than the fact the raven haired teen didn't like him very much. He didn't want to be rude and agree, so he just kept his head lowered to the sheets instead, fidgeting with his painted nails.
He jumped visibly when the unmistakable sound of a cell phone went off, breaking the sound of silence that had previously settled over the room. He watches Aoi move to retrieve the small device from his pocket, flipping it open and tuck some hair behind his ear. The small movement catches his attention, reminding him of how flawless Aoi's features really were.
He wasn't really listening to the conversation, instead playing with his styled hair. It still felt completely weird and alien, and he still wasn't sure if he liked it. He was wearing more accessories and products than he ever had in his life, and somehow, he had never felt more naked. It wasn't until he heard Aoi mention his name, that his self pondering was broken.
"Don't frown at me, Jesus. There's a party next week at Miyavi's place, I was just asking if you could come-"
"Absolutely not." The blonde didn't let the other go on further. He remembered how things had gone down at the club, and he didn't plan on letting things get to that again. He had only made a fool of himself, and unlike that time, all his class mates would be there, people he didn't want to mingle with. Last time had been an exception, but bars can control drink and violence, drugs and...
"Oh my god. Are you... scared?" Aoi stared at him incredulously, and the blonde felt the queasy feeling that only came with peer pressure. He knew what Aoi was doing, he was trying to persuade him to come, through his own embarrassment or otherwise. He was a pushover, and he knew it. But this time, he was positive he wasn't going.
"If I'm not around Reita'll look after you, and no one fucks around with Reita." If Aoi's words were supposed to comfort him, they weren't. He'd caught a glance of the other's modestly muscled arms and abdomen once, and he'd been scarred for life. He didn't like the looks the other's hawk like eyes gave him recently.
"I feel so much better." He sighs instead, feeling defeated and knowing he would probably end up joining the other anyway, he just couldn't say no to the dark haired boy. The fact that Aoi mentioned getting him some protection from his friends was worrying enough.
Just what sort of parties did Aoi go to?
Reita casts his mother a wary glance as her gaze lands on Ruki, her lips nothing but a grim line. It seems Ruki notices, because there's a slight bounce to his step as he smiles, sickeningly sweetly, bowing his head a little too low. Not enough to be sarcastic, but pushing it. "Hello Ms. Suzuki." His voice is so fake to Reita, but to any average person it probably sounded normal.
But not Reita's mother apparently.
"Hello Takanori," She doesn't look pleased at all, and it makes Reita nervous, resisting the growing urge to tighten the knot holding his noseband in place. "I didn't know you were coming." She shoots Reita a flat look, and the blonde curses inwardly. His mother hated Ruki. Hate was a strong word, but both his parents really detested the short teen.
"Um... yeah, we're going to... study." Coughing, the blonde tugs lightly on the shorter's designer shirt, subtly pulling him away from his mother. "He's helping me." He knew he probably sounded so lame just then, but he knew the silent battle that always went on between Ruki and his mother, and he didn't like it. "Let's go Ruki."
"Of course," Luckily, the other didn't push it further, something the blonde was actually kind of proud of Ruki for. Normally, Ruki couldn't help himself around his mother, and would make comments subtle, double antandras, something which his homophobic family didn't appreciate.
"I hope your mum loves you more than she loves me." The shorter bounced down on the bassist's bed, folding his legs under him neatly after they entered. If he was bothered by Reita's mother's behaviour, he didn't show it. In fact, he was pretty sure the artist got a kick out of it.
"Well, you're not exactly a likeable person," The blonde stated flatly, letting himself join the other. He didn't have to worry about offending the other, because Ruki's lack of care for the world and people around him was something he envied. Every remark or comment, and the bi-haired teen would smirk, as if he'd just received the biggest compliment.
"People's opinions don't make a person." The other murmured, and instantly Reita felt uneasy again. Ruki would come out with some random, surprisingly wise words sometimes, and he didn't like it. Things weren't fine the way they were, not at all, but that didn't mean he wanted to change it.
"For God’s sake Reita, stop hiding." There's another long, drawn out sigh, and then the blonde feels deft fingers in his hair. It surprises him, after all Ruki never minded it before, and he knows the other is really bothered by his secretive attitude lately. It makes him feel guilty, and although he desperately wants to, he doesn't stop the singer from pulling the fabric away from his face. And he hates Ruki's honest, random, and utterly misleading way of speaking:
"Honestly. You're so much more beautiful without it." As honest as ever. And Reita hates it. Ruki didn't think of him that way, but hearing the other say such things made him want to do something stupid.
"Don't talk like that." He said softly instead, restraining himself by running a hand through his hair. Other people saw Ruki as heartless, blood obsessed teen who only thought about himself and causing other people pain. As true as it was, Reita just couldn't bring himself to care about the other's many flaws. Not when Ruki was one of the best artists, pianists and singers he had ever seen. His expression looked so at peace with himself and world when he did it.
Reita wanted the other to look at him like that too.
"You're thinking about it again." He heard the pianist groan, climbing off the bed and moving to the piano Reita's mother had shoved in his room when they first moved in.
"What?"
"Whatever it is you think about. I don't know, because you never tell me." The younger snapped, and took a seat on the small, plush piano chair. He didn't adjust the height: after all, he was the only one who ever played it. He always offered the blonde to teach him, but Reita was good at bass- piano was just beyond him.
"You know I will, I promise, when I find the words." It was the only thing he could think to say to the other, and it hurt to know the other would probably tell him his whole heart if he just asked. Uruha and the rest of the student body would never believe it, but Ruki was really just another teenager. It was a shame he only let go around Aoi and Reita.
The next fifteen minutes were spent in silence, with Reita listening to Ruki play one of the most beautiful pieces he had ever heard. It always mystified him as much as it awed him, but not once had he ever heard Ruki play anything even remotely happy. The piano was a beautiful instrument, and it really showed whenever Ruki played it.
"Your expression... it always changes whenever I play." He hears Ruki murmur when the song died out slowly, his fingers only pressing the keys gently. He blinks, frowning in slight confusion.
"How do you know? You're not even looking at me." And true enough, all he could see of Ruki was the back of his head.
"I don't need to. I know you are." Ruki wasn't playing anymore, closing the piano's top down gently until the stark white keys were hidden from view. He turns slowly, watching the bassist from where he sat as if he was considering him for the first time.
And that's when Reita realised just how understanding Ruki was. It would only be a matter of time before the other realised just what he was hiding.
And it scared him.
Because Miyavi is a guitar pimp,
Ruki is just an adorable brat that way,
Teenage parites are epic crazy, like sparta.
And muscle or not, Reita is fluffyadorable.
*Uh...Ruki was playing Moonlight Sonata on Reita's piano. Because it's a good song, and because I'm UNORIGINAL. And it shows epic insight! O:
Also, this chapter was like pushing out a baby. A fat baby. I wrote it directly on LJ and....AOL crashed. I lost all fucking 8 PAGES. I could have cried, so hence why this might be shitty, I re-wrote it through my writers block, because I love you all :3
The party at Miyavi's will be epic. I promise! <3