LAST SHOW
Title: LAST SHOW
Rating: g
Pairing: Gackt/You
Summary: The Diabolos tour is finally over
LAST SHOW
Gackt sat in the chair as the finishing touches were put to his makeup, and his hairstylist worked, hands full of clips and combs, gel and curling irons and hairspray, smoothing braids, combing long curling strands to glistening perfection.
The two women chattered on. Inconsequential things: boyfriends; dinner after the show; "Do you know it's time to wax your eyebrows again, Gackt-san?"... "You should see the dress..." Their nattering faded into the white noise of the crowd filling the arena as he closed his eyes. Almost over; the last show. Just a few more hours.
Snatches of song, flashes of movement, choreography, moved through his mind. Adrenaline building; a sweet tension in his stomach, slowly growing, moving through limbs and body.... Just a few more hours, and it'll be over. He was so tired. Just one more night. Then vacation! Blissfully peaceful days of rest. Days of nothing more strenuous to deal with than what to do for dinner. Until... dreams, ideas repeating and reverberating in his head until he's forced to write them down so the next bit will slowly reveal itself; details filling themselves in... and the music. The music that fills him and overflows from dreams into daylight. And another vision is transformed into a concept, a song, a video, a cd, a tour... reality. And always, through it all, a steadying force, a calm presence, a strength to lean on. Youkun.
He opened his eyes to the reflection in the mirror in front of him. The man beside him being fussed over much like himself--hair smoothed to perfection back from his face, only to stick out in porcupine-like spikes in back. "Super Seiyan You", Ju-ken had joked, and they'd all laughed--caught his eyes on him and smiled. That smile. Genuine, still innocent and seductive all at the same time. And so full of promise.... He closed his eyes again, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.
~~~~~~~~
Silence. Broken by quiet movement, soft murmuring voices, quiet laughter. But, overall, silence. His eyes flickered open.
The others had showered and changed and were gathered in the dressing room. And he lay stretched out on the couch, covered by a light summer blanket. His coat had been removed, and his shirt and tie loosened. "Since when do we have..." he wondered, apparently out loud.
"Since the last time, when you were so run down that you caught a chill in the air conditioning and ended up in the hospital with pneumonia." You, sitting on the floor beside him, twined their fingers together and chided him gently. He had taken off his coat, but otherwise was still in costume, refusing to leave him.
"Youkun," his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper, and his throat so sore.
"Yes, love." You smiled, relief clearly evident on his face.
"You need a shower."
"Well," You replied, "you don't exactly smell like a bed of roses yourself, Gachan... Shower here or at home? The car is waiting."
"Home. A nice long soak."
fin
Rating: g
Pairing: Gackt/You
Summary: The Diabolos tour is finally over
LAST SHOW
Gackt sat in the chair as the finishing touches were put to his makeup, and his hairstylist worked, hands full of clips and combs, gel and curling irons and hairspray, smoothing braids, combing long curling strands to glistening perfection.
The two women chattered on. Inconsequential things: boyfriends; dinner after the show; "Do you know it's time to wax your eyebrows again, Gackt-san?"... "You should see the dress..." Their nattering faded into the white noise of the crowd filling the arena as he closed his eyes. Almost over; the last show. Just a few more hours.
Snatches of song, flashes of movement, choreography, moved through his mind. Adrenaline building; a sweet tension in his stomach, slowly growing, moving through limbs and body.... Just a few more hours, and it'll be over. He was so tired. Just one more night. Then vacation! Blissfully peaceful days of rest. Days of nothing more strenuous to deal with than what to do for dinner. Until... dreams, ideas repeating and reverberating in his head until he's forced to write them down so the next bit will slowly reveal itself; details filling themselves in... and the music. The music that fills him and overflows from dreams into daylight. And another vision is transformed into a concept, a song, a video, a cd, a tour... reality. And always, through it all, a steadying force, a calm presence, a strength to lean on. Youkun.
He opened his eyes to the reflection in the mirror in front of him. The man beside him being fussed over much like himself--hair smoothed to perfection back from his face, only to stick out in porcupine-like spikes in back. "Super Seiyan You", Ju-ken had joked, and they'd all laughed--caught his eyes on him and smiled. That smile. Genuine, still innocent and seductive all at the same time. And so full of promise.... He closed his eyes again, and a small smile played at the corners of his mouth.
~~~~~~~~
Silence. Broken by quiet movement, soft murmuring voices, quiet laughter. But, overall, silence. His eyes flickered open.
The others had showered and changed and were gathered in the dressing room. And he lay stretched out on the couch, covered by a light summer blanket. His coat had been removed, and his shirt and tie loosened. "Since when do we have..." he wondered, apparently out loud.
"Since the last time, when you were so run down that you caught a chill in the air conditioning and ended up in the hospital with pneumonia." You, sitting on the floor beside him, twined their fingers together and chided him gently. He had taken off his coat, but otherwise was still in costume, refusing to leave him.
"Youkun," his voice barely more than a hoarse whisper, and his throat so sore.
"Yes, love." You smiled, relief clearly evident on his face.
"You need a shower."
"Well," You replied, "you don't exactly smell like a bed of roses yourself, Gachan... Shower here or at home? The car is waiting."
"Home. A nice long soak."
fin