Drabble : Tumble
The smell of sex and passion clings to him like he’s always dreamt of. Sheets tangle around his ankles in a perfect heap, and the mattress swallows them both like a cocoon, a soft, warm one. They are a mess, both of them. A beautiful mess in the afterglow and it’s glorious, it’s perfect. It’s everything Tegoshi’s ever wanted. Everything, except that when Yamapi wakes up, dishevelled and looking a little lost, the grieving look that strikes his face as the realisation sinks in makes Tegoshi’s heart burn and crumble and hell, it hurts. The night lingers between them; speaks of the intimacy they shared, of the brief love that transpired.
‘’Fuck,’’ Yamapi says, looking at the wall, and Tegoshi couldn’t agree more.
He watches as his leader reaches for his clothes, heart breaking silently.
Finally, Yamapi stands, socks in hand, lips still full of their kisses.
Tegoshi looks away.
‘’I love you,’’ he says, because he does.
***
Tegoshi forgets, sometimes, who lies next to him at night. The mouth on his own is not the one he cherishes. The body under him is soft, fragile, doesn’t quit fit his own.
‘’Yuya,’’ a voice whispers.
And he remembers. He remembers his twenty-nine years and the quiet plea of his heart.
The ring on his finger is cold, glows knowingly in the moonlight. His wife smiles, white arms coming around him in an embrace that makes him want to forget all over again.
***
Tegoshi goes on like a ghost, fake smile falling into place every time his leader’s footsteps are heard. He sings and acts and it’s like nothing happened. Yamapi acts along, being the great actor that he is. But they revolve around each other awkwardly, eyes not meeting and member-ai forgotten. Only it’s still them, and Tegoshi aches for the touch, craves the fire that once consumed them both.
***
‘’I still do,’’ he tells his leader after a concert, when they are both drunk with their fans cries.
I still love you
He kisses him sloppily, doesn’t bother with the half-hearted push against his chest.
‘’Still do, will always do,’’ he grins against Yamapi's lips, and kisses him again.
He fumbles at Yamapi’s soul, looking for his share of light. It’s still there, untouched, hidden to anyone but him, and he moans as his leader’s lips open for him. Yamapi grasps his left hand, but the cold ring isn’t there. Tegoshi lost it the week before. Down a drain, or maybe on the set of his drama.
‘’What did you do? What did you do?’’ Yamapi asks him again and again, kissing him back with a desperate urge.
Tegoshi savours their tears on his lips, the long-awaited taste.
‘’The right thing.’’
And they are a mess, both of them. A beautiful mess, and it’s perfect.
~Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.~
Shakespeare
‘’Fuck,’’ Yamapi says, looking at the wall, and Tegoshi couldn’t agree more.
He watches as his leader reaches for his clothes, heart breaking silently.
Finally, Yamapi stands, socks in hand, lips still full of their kisses.
Tegoshi looks away.
‘’I love you,’’ he says, because he does.
***
Tegoshi forgets, sometimes, who lies next to him at night. The mouth on his own is not the one he cherishes. The body under him is soft, fragile, doesn’t quit fit his own.
‘’Yuya,’’ a voice whispers.
And he remembers. He remembers his twenty-nine years and the quiet plea of his heart.
The ring on his finger is cold, glows knowingly in the moonlight. His wife smiles, white arms coming around him in an embrace that makes him want to forget all over again.
***
Tegoshi goes on like a ghost, fake smile falling into place every time his leader’s footsteps are heard. He sings and acts and it’s like nothing happened. Yamapi acts along, being the great actor that he is. But they revolve around each other awkwardly, eyes not meeting and member-ai forgotten. Only it’s still them, and Tegoshi aches for the touch, craves the fire that once consumed them both.
***
‘’I still do,’’ he tells his leader after a concert, when they are both drunk with their fans cries.
I still love you
He kisses him sloppily, doesn’t bother with the half-hearted push against his chest.
‘’Still do, will always do,’’ he grins against Yamapi's lips, and kisses him again.
He fumbles at Yamapi’s soul, looking for his share of light. It’s still there, untouched, hidden to anyone but him, and he moans as his leader’s lips open for him. Yamapi grasps his left hand, but the cold ring isn’t there. Tegoshi lost it the week before. Down a drain, or maybe on the set of his drama.
‘’What did you do? What did you do?’’ Yamapi asks him again and again, kissing him back with a desperate urge.
Tegoshi savours their tears on his lips, the long-awaited taste.
‘’The right thing.’’
And they are a mess, both of them. A beautiful mess, and it’s perfect.
~Let not my love be called idolatry,
Nor my beloved as an idol show,
Since all alike my songs and praises be
To one, of one, still such, and ever so.~
Shakespeare