More crack. Because my brain obviously needs it.
Title: The Days in Question
Authors: sphinxofthenile and _ice_lady_
Fandom: Buck-Tick, Der Zibet, Schwein
Pairings: Atsushi/Issay
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Do not own. Make no profit. Mean no harm.
Summary: Constant work pressure, sleepless nights and the like were in the job description. This? This was hell.
Warning: Poor poor Imai and his poor poor eyes.
Word count: 4959
A/N: A brainfart. A horrible brainfart. Because we do believe Imai's got it bad. Still, we regret nothing.
---
Somewhere in Japan, summer 2001
Imai was not amused. Granted, when it came to Atsushi, Imai was rarely amused. Worse was that, in fact, was that Imai was very happy for Atsushi, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d rather if he never got to wish he could unknow certain things.
Sure, Issay was an item, a constant. Hell, Issay was more of a constant in Atsushi’s life than the man’s own child was, which didn’t exactly speak volumes, but it said enough.
If only they could keep it to themselves.
Now, Imai wasn’t exactly the gay bashing type. In his books, he didn’t care what people did with themselves, as long as they did it in private. And he would have thought the same had Atsushi ever behaved like that with a girl. Which he had, when he had been young and stupid, but that was a whole other can of worms that Imai didn’t want to touch.
Issay and he, though... Imai had to wonder when exactly the two planned on exiting the dumb, crazy teenagers in love phase. It had been... amusing and cute, so to speak, for the first several days. Then months and, now, even years. Not that either of them was dumb or socially suicidal enough to start making out in public, but Imai knew Atsushi (and by that he also knew Issay) well enough to know exactly what those looks over a glass of wine entailed.
No wonder he’d lost his appetite for what seemed forever in the past several... well, years, in fact. And that was just dinners. Concerts, on the other hand... Now those were a whole new circle of hell, in Imai’s humble opinion. Whatever sins he had committed in his previous life, they must have been, well, horrid.
Normally, it wasn’t that bad. Sure, it wasn’t a walk on a flowery spring meadow, but over time it was actually getting easier to block out what exactly Atsushi was singing about. There was a fine line between love songs and advertising one’s sex life in full sports arenas. In detail. Atsushi was not crossing this line, he was beyond that already. By a few miles.
And no, Imai really didn’t want to know.
And then there was the newly titled and still in the planning stages Day in Question, also known as Imai’s day from hell. First, what on earth did the guys think? Having a concert every year (for almost a decade now) to celebrate him getting out of jail? That was a day Imai wanted to forget, and not spend every year forcing a dumb smile to his lips in front of fifteen thousand people, all spiced up with the fact that Issay came to congratulate them too and then... stuff happened.
On stage. As well as behind it.
And now this precious event had a name which, if Imai actually believed any of his band mates owned a semi-operable brain, was a huge middle finger to his very own misery. Luckily for him (or maybe not so much), there was nobody smart enough there to figure that one out.
Or, god forbid, someone eloquent enough in English to operate on a level beyond 'oh, it sounded cool'.
Now, to top it all -- this.
Raymond Watts was a remarkable artist. Raymond Watts was someone Imai admired and actually enjoyed working with (unlike certain other individuals in his life, unfortunately). Raymond Watts was the very reason why Imai forced all those hours of private English lessons so he could function on a somewhat operable level when in the same room with the man.
They'd really done remarkable things for the music scene. And they had fun as well.
But god forbid anyone actually cared. Until the moment Atsushi joined them, that was. Suddenly, they were getting a nation wide tour. A nation wide tour with all the concerts sold out ages in advance.
It was despicable. After all those other ways in which Atsushi ruined his life, that devil from the deepest pits of hell had to take his Raymond Watts too.
With his excellent voice, remarkable charm and ten words in English he could distinguish from 'goose'. How the hell that one even happened, Imai didn't know and was quite sure he didn't even want to. Having known Atsushi as long as he did, certain influences were not to be left unaccounted for. And saying Issay rubbed off on Atsushi a bit too much was giving Imai mental images he didn't need to have. Ever.
He still remembered that one time when he decided to check up on Atsushi after the man had been released from the hospital (gods, what was that, '97? Time sure as hell did fly), only to be hit square in the face with reality. In the form of a very tousled and half naked Issay opening the door. Granted, one could have argued that the lowest two buttons on the shirt were done, but that did little to save Imai's brain processes from temporary extinction.
And made sure he thought twice about visiting Atsushi out of the blue ever again. And then some. Hell, it made sure Imai never, ever surprised the man with sudden appearances anywhere that wasn't widely public.
Then again, one could probably consider changing rooms and backstage corridors as such, but Imai knew better. And while he didn't exactly have moral qualms about it, he did very much care about the fact that any of that getting out was potentially disastrous for their image and collective reputation. That, and the fact that Imai really, really just didn't want to be there when the nation found out that their resident sex symbol of, well, way too many years now, was actually gay.
And he definitely didn't want to be here, and especially not now. Just so that he could sit back and enjoy Atsushi once again steal the spotlight, without even meaning to.
Great. Life just really sucked that way, didn't it?
---
It was really horrible, all things considered. As much as Atsushi was enjoying himself with the last two concerts, he had to admit it was beginning to grind on his nerves, this language barrier. Sure, Raymond seemed capable of forming a few sentences in Japanese, and he understood a lot more. Sure, Atsushi could mumble and stutter until they both managed to nod in agreement, but that didn't change the fact that Atsushi was annoyed with it all.
Mostly because, instead of this being a very comfortable dinner in which they could discuss the impressions from the last live (and, hopefully, tweak out all the problems for the next one), all they ended up doing was staring uncomfortably at their food.
Granted, there was Imai, sitting right there, but Atsushi kind of liked the man. To a point. And he definitely didn't want to spoil his appetite after a hard day by demanding he served as a translator between the two.
Atsushi had a distinct feeling the man had been scarred enough by the lyrics themselves, he didn't need to deal with the performance as well. All things considered, of course.
And Atsushi was not outsourcing a translator for anything revolving around things like "Spank The Monkey". For a start, of course.
A shame indeed, because Atsushi was surely having a blast. He'd never dare, not with Buck-Tick (and not just because Imai was willing to beg, plead, threaten, and claim he had a heart condition; or was surely getting one if Atsushi even tried), but this tour proved like a magnificent excuse for Atsushi to go wild. Especially because Raymond seemed more than happy to accommodate. To Imai's horror, of course.
But, in spite it all, Atsushi was having a hard time keeping the grin off his face. Issay was coming over. Tomorrow, after the concert. Even though Atsushi wanted the man there from day one, he had to agree that dragging a random, strange man with him for days on end wasn't exactly something Raymond would buy as an intrinsic part of Japanese culture.
And as much as Atsushi knew he could keep it in his pants (and he'd informed Imai as much, to the man's utter horror), he had a distinct feeling someone would start asking question. Because, unlike the Japanesse, Raymond and his crew were much more nosy, so it seemed.
And Atsushi was not allowed to take that risk. Lest Imai flat out kill him or something such.
"I think I should go," Atsushi said, realising a moment too late that he'd mumbled out the words. Imai got him, of course, but Raymond looked slightly confused. Atsushi smiled. "Sleepy," he said, grabbing his wallet and getting up from his chair.
Imai just waved him off, still too focused on his plate, while Raymond unfortunately took his hand for a handshake, a gesture which anyone normal would have considered highly impolite, but Atsushi had to learn the hard way that foreigners functioned... well, in foreign ways.
"No drinks?" Raymond asked and Atsushi felt the corners of his lips spread into a smile.
Well, he could stay as much. "Shower," he said then, in his broken, horrible English, before he glanced at Imai. "I'll just go change into something more comfortable. See you in half an hour?" he asked and Imai finally looked up.
"Sure. We should be here," the man said.
"Well, then," Atsushi added before nodding at both of them. Sure, he was sleepy, but god forbid he did care about that one. Getting a few glasses of wine before bed always helped in the sleep department, of course. Especially if the company was good.
And Imai wasn't so bad, either. Besides, at least drunk he tended to relax, if only a bit.
But all these thoughts flew out of the proverbial window the moment Atsushi stepped out of the elevator and into the corridor where his room was. Because, there he was, Issay, leaning on the wall next to Atsushi's room, smiling and looking as beautiful as ever.
"Well, this is a surprise," Atsushi whispered, even though all he wanted was to kiss the man. Not in public, unfortunately. "Checking up on me?" he asked, and Issay's lips spread some more. It was indeed hard getting that card through the reader.
"Why would I need to check up on you?" Issay teased, and Atsushi almost bounced as the lock buzzed and he pressed the knob.
"Whether I'm cheating?" he asked in return and Issay snorted.
"We both know you're quite incapable of that one, dear," the man said, but not like any of this mattered once the door clicked closed.
"You think I'm not pretty enough for an affair?" Atsushi purred, stepping closer, and as always it was simply magnificent when Issay didn't step back. After all these years, it still made his heart flutter.
Then Issay slid his hands, cold so very cold from the outside night air, into Atsushi's pants pockets, closing in. "It's not your looks that's the problem dear. It's your brain." Oh, did Atsushi want to be angry, but not when those lips pressed into his own.
Well, good night to them both. This was a surprise Atsushi did not expect. And a whole day early.
"What brings you here?" Atsushi whispered and Issay just shrugged, his face still gorgeously flushed from the obvious temperature change. And then there was that grin...
"Tired of housework?" Issay said, and Atsushi felt his smile disappear. "That was a joke," Issay was quick to add. "But I wouldn't mind being the poor little innocent maiden abused in that big bed of yours," he said and Atsushi burst out laughing.
"If you want, I can--" Atsushi started, but Issay interrupted him.
"Or I can always go and abuse your shower," he purred. "I bet it fits two," he added and stepped back. Good god, did Atsushi regret hearing some idiot knock on his door. Because now, Issay was smiling that way, and it was evil and perfect and wonderful. "I'll warm it up for you," he whispered and disappeared behind the bathroom door with a wink.
Atsushi needed a second knock just to remember he was supposed to open the door and see who was bothering him.
---
Well, this probably wasn't one of his brightest ideas, but Raymond had a feeling that anything else would have been just too impolite. Considering he was the one dumb enough to leave his wallet in his room, stopping by Atsushi's room seemed like the best option when compared to forcing poor Imai to do the trip himself. Not that it made Raymond any more comfortable with the damn language barrier, but hell, it wasn't like he couldn't improvise.
If anything, it was obvious Atsushi and he were showmen enough when it came to that one, and at least stage coordination was easier to manage than words.
Granted, Raymond still had a hard time wrapping his head around the light years between Atsushi on stage and off of it. When they weren't performing, the man was so horribly shy and timid and polite and so Japanese. Like now, once he appeared in the crack with that little smile that for some reason made Raymond grin.
"Heya." Okay, now the hard part. And he had a feeling he did fail at Japanese, because Atsushi was just staring at him with a cornered sort of expression. The smile, though, was still on. Of course. "Just been wondering where did you get lost at," he decided to add in English. One never knew, right? "Coming?"
It was quite the sight, Atsushi's lips spreading some more before the smile faltered, the man looking so apologetic Raymond actually felt bad for his own conscience that convinced him that he really had to do this.
"I'm sorry." Atsushi shook his head. Well, at least Raymond concluded that was what he said. Except, sorry for what? Not coming? Not getting what the whole thing was about? What?
"One on me?" Raymond decided to offer, holding up his wallet for good measure.
And that was when someone started the shower. There was no mistaking the sound, or the source of it, for that matter, and suddenly Raymond felt like introducing his head with the wall. He never should have taken this on himself.
Then again, did Imai not say Atsushi was coming back? Or did he get that part wrong as well? Because obviously, this didn't look like that.
"Ah. Got yourself some company, did you?" he asked, and Atsushi probably caught onto something, because he shifted his weight, looking like he was about to blush. Raymond was tempted to roll his eyes. Considering their porn industry, the whole lot of them were just so damn... proper. And uptight, more often than not.
No wonder they all loved the stage so much. Everybody needed a holiday from such lives, obviously. He felt bad for just thinking it, but well, no use crying over spilt milk or however it went.
"I'm sorry," Atsushi offered again, followed by something else, but Raymond could only make out Imai's name from that one, so he just forced a smile of his own.
"I... guess I better be going and, uhh. Yeah. See you." He gestured towards the elevators, and the smile Atsushi had on this time made him feel all the more bad, because try as he might, it was quite obvious that Atsushi was relieved by that prospect.
"Goodnight," the man whispered in Japanese, finally closing the door. Well, damn. Talk about awkward. Raymond really did deserve a drink.
Thank god that Imai was still there, and actually looking forward to this if the man's smile was anything to go by.
"So, ready?" Raymond asked and Imai shrugged.
"Aren't we waiting for Atsushi?" he asked.
"Oh, that, yeah. Went to pick him up, and..." Raymond started, sliding into one of the free chairs at their table. "Does Sakurai have a girlfriend?" he asked, leaning closer so he was capable of lowering his voice. Raymond knew he was a nosy shit. From Japanese perspective, at least. But that didn't change the fact that he didn't want to put anyone in trouble. Especially someone as public as Atsushi was.
"Uh..." Imai blinked a few times, until he eventually shook his head.
"You sure?" Raymond tried. Nosy shit indeed.
"Trust me on this," Imai said.
Well, damn. "So, a guy can get a hooker around here?" he asked. Stupid question, on a second thought. He knew that prostitution was legal here, but considering everyone around him tended to be so god damned polite, it generally didn't even cross his mind.
"Uh... why?" The way Imai looked at him made Raymond feel sorry for even starting the topic. Timid and easily embarrassed indeed. With a good dose of not wanting to mess with someone else's business. At first, Raymond thought it was just Imai, but it seemed to be very common of these people in general. Then again, Imai was especially closed off to nosiness to begin with. Even for the Japanese.
"There's some chick in Sakurai's room. Thought it was... you know--" Raymond started, and Imai almost dropped his cup of coffee. At that point, Raymond decided that this was, indeed, not any of his business. And if the slight shade of green, that Imai's skin was slowly turning into, was anything to go by, it was better that way.
They were obviously going out drinking alone. And Atsushi, the lucky bastard was having his... girl. Well, not the first time Raymond had been dumped for a fuck, so all was well.
---
Oh, gods, did he miss this. If there was one thing Issay found utterly disagreeable about the existence of Buck-Tick (and by extension, Schwein too) was the fact that it kept Atsushi away for months at a time, and when one threw that together with Issay's own busy schedule, things started looking even worse.
Thank the heavens (and the modern geniuses of their time) for inventing planes, phones, computers, and all those other handy devices that served to bridge the gap between people. Because no matter how hard they tried, two demanding music careers requiring them to be travelling the country all the time did not a good basis for a relationship make. At least, not one that Issay would have liked most of the time.
But this was nice. Who cared that he had to spend a day in and out of airports, or that he had to leave again soon when he could wake up with Atsushi's body plastered to his back and those slow, even breaths tickling his skin. Granted, that way Issay was just a bit too hot while Atsushi's feet were just a bit too cold, but not that it mattered.
Now there was something worth waking up to. And after all that time (a week? Week and a half?), Issay indeed did miss such a thing.
Then the alarm went off, and the reality of it all came crashing in. That being, the fact that Issay operated on more time spent travelling than he had been sleeping. And there was a headache lurking in there somewhere as well. But then Atsushi stirred and yawned, and Issay realised he didn't care. Coffee and aspirins existed for a reason.
"Oh, gods," Atsushi moaned and Issay chuckled.
"They won't help you now," he said and Atsushi looked up from rubbing his eyes, with just a glint of evil lurking in there somewhere. Issay knew those smiles too damned well.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, please," Issay teased and Atsushi made another grunt before he pulled himself out of the bed and tapped to the bathroom. Perfect time for Issay to snatch a cigarette from the nightstand, slipping onto the balcony as he mechanically worked the lighter a few times. While Atsushi claimed he didn't mind that Issay smoked, that still didn't change the fact that Issay knew too damned well how hard it was to quit (and how easy to fail, oh, how easy...), and he was the last person to make such a noble effort all the more difficult for Atsushi.
He didn't even finish his smoke, and he could already hear the door behind him slide open. "Breakfast's in ten," Atsushi whispered, and Issay decided to hurry with the cigarette.
As he slipped back into the room, Atsushi was already mostly dressed which, in Issay's books was a shame indeed. Considering they weren't going to see each other for a while again, and Issay had a distinct feeling there would be no private adult entertainment during the final stages of the show preparations.
Shame he had to leave today. Such a shame indeed.
"You should hurry, you know," Atsushi said as Issay jumped back into the bed.
"Uh, why?" he asked.
"Breakfast," Atsushi offered.
"I'll just eat something later," Issay started, but decided not to finish that one once Atsushi's eyes snapped his way.
"You'll do no such thing," the man said.
"I don't mind," Issay offered. "We don't need to--"
"I'm not ashamed of you," Atsushi snapped once more, and Issay wanted to protest, but god forbid he could even bother with the smile and all. And the fact that now he actually had to hurry to be ready on time. No boas and frills, obviously. Not that Atsushi would have appreciated them properly (at least in public), but a man could dream.
"Imai is going to have a fit," Issay said eventually and Atsushi chuckled.
"Imai is going to have a fit either way," he said.
"You are horrible."
"His problem that he can't accept the fact that I'm gay," Atsushi said a bit too mockingly and Issay folded his arms over his chest, inspecting the room one last time just to make sure he'd taken everything he needed with him.
Gods, was he going to hate packing after they were done eating.
"I don't think it's your orientation he has problems with." Well, Issay just had to.
"Well, not like it's you he has problems with."
"Maybe he's just jealous," Issay added as they walked out of the room. The way Atsushi looked at him after pressing the elevator button was precious indeed. "What?" Issay shrugged, perfect innocence and all. "You haven't squeezed his nipples on stage ever since--" Well, not that he even thought about finishing that one, but the way Atsushi burst out laughing sure made him give up on even trying.
"I dare you to say that to his face," Atsushi said and Issay snorted.
"I don't want to be charged for manslaughter." The bell chimed the arrival of the elevator, and the doors slid open. "So, when are you off the leash? After the concert, I mean."
"Aren't you staying?" Atsushi asked, looking very disappointed.
"Sure, but--"
"Then just wait for me backstage," he offered.
"Dear," Issay started, sighing with mock despair. "An hour of you groping another guy on stage. And he's not exactly bad looking, either. I bought a new camera just for this occasion."
Well, if Issay wanted to make Atsushi look any more uncomfortable, bewildered and flabbergasted than he was now, he would have surely failed. "I-- It's just work!" The man blurted out, and good gods, Issay just wanted to kiss him how adorable he was. Not in the elevator, definitely.
He couldn't resist to arrange Atsushi's collar though, smooth out a few invisible creases from the shirt. "Well then, you better work hard tonight, hmm?"
"When are you leaving again?" Atsushi's hands settled on Issay's waist, and damn, would Issay have loved the look in those eyes were they not reaching the ground floor, forcing him to pull away.
"Ten to eleven."
"Shame. Must you?"
Issay sighed. It was such a shame indeed.
---
Imai knew his day was officially ruined the moment he walked into the restaurant and, among a handful of tired, half asleep people walking about the buffet like zombies, he spotted Atsushi smiling, and full of energy. And humming a happy tune. And putting cakes on his plate.
This was... bad. And no, Imai did not want to know. Any of it.
"Hey, Imai." Atsushi also spotted him standing there, accompanying the greeting with a bright smile that made Imai's slight hangover exponentially worse. "How are you this fine morning?"
"What do you think?"
"You look a bit green. One too many yesterday?" Atsushi chatted. If only he would have stopped smiling.
"Not enough." Imai groaned, reaching for a plate and regretting the fact that his stomach demanded a good breakfast after drinking the night away.
"If you say so... Gonna take that muffin?"
As much as Imai knew that snatching it was childish, at least it made him feel better.
"I'll take that as a yes." Atsushi chuckled. "You really are grumpy. Cheer up, hmm?"
Oh yes. Once he was back in his dark room with a bottle of aspirin and some music. Really dark. Sure, what Imai wanted to say was several levels more nasty (along the lines of watching Atsushi's good mood be run over by a freight train, amongst other things), but he never got to voice any of it, because Raymond also walked in and joined them, looking slightly worse for the wear but in a rather good mood himself.
After exchanging a few courteous words, Atsushi fluttered away from the two of them, on his merry way to replenish his glucose supplies. And gods, did the thought make Imai regret even owning a brain. He groaned again.
"Someone's paying the last night's sins," Raymond teased and Imai forced a smile as he poured himself some coffee, realising he was going to need three more cups if he wanted to function this morning.
"Well, it was fun," he said, because it was polite thing to do. Sure, it was fun. As long as the two of them could actually talk without their social recluse slash sex god being around and requiring constant nannying.
"Nowhere near as much as some of us, eh?" Raymond obviously just had to. Not that he had the slightest idea, of course, so it wasn't the man's fault. But Imai still failed to keep the groan from leaving his lips as he slumped into his chair, holding onto that cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. "Good god, does he glow," Raymond continued, completely blind with how much this was hurting Imai.
Hard not to be blinded by the glorious sun shining right there. Imai wouldn't have been surprised if the man started tap-dancing in the middle of the restaurant.
And then he spotted Issay.
As did Raymond. "Who's that?" the man asked once Atsushi sat down at the table he was obviously sharing with his... whatever they were, Imai didn't want to think about it this early.
Oh, god. Couldn't he just die already? At this point, it just seemed like the one merciful thing Imai needed. Except, Raymond was standing right there, still curious, still waiting for an answer. Obviously. The gods really were cruel. "That's Issay. Atsushi's... friend," Imai decided to elaborate because Raymond obviously wasn't catching on at first.
"Oh, really?" The man's face brightened some more, making Imai wish he could just pack up his plate and retreat into his room. No such luck, obviously. "You absolutely must introduce us then!"
"Uh, I don't thi--" Imai started, but Raymond was faster than that, and there was nothing Imai could do but follow. And feel even worse after Issay stood from his seat with a wide smile, looking as pleased to see them as ever.
"Ah, Imai, it's been a while," the man said with a nod, and then took Raymond's hand. "Mr Watts. Atsushi told me so much about you."
Oh gods. Imai decided to drink his coffee. Trust Issay to be his utmost polite and sociable and just flat out amazing in spite of the language barrier. And trust Atsushi to look as uncomfortable as ever, once his barely functioning brain finally realised the implications of this all.
"Pleasure to meet you," Raymond supplied with the obligatory billion dollar smile.
"I flew over just to see you perform tonight," Issay said and Raymond nodded, obviously knowing as much Japanese for this.
"Mr Issay has quite a busy schedule," Imai found himself saying in English, and Raymond acknowledged his words with a nod.
"Oh, did you?" Raymond ended up asking. "I'm much honoured. And when did you come over?" he asked.
"Last night," Issay said with a smile, and Atsushi dropped his muffin. Imai wished he had a knife, because killing himself seemed like a much easier way to go, than... well, this.
This being the look Raymond shot at Imai, that made sure Imai wouldn't believe the man not figuring it all out even if Raymond said so under oath.
Yes, the next several minutes proved to be rather awkward, indeed, and Imai actually sighed with relief after Issay finished his coffee and politely excused himself on the account of having to pack. With Atsushi storming after him almost wordlessly like some sort of a puppy. And once the two were left alone, and Imai concluded that his life wasn't ruined just yet, Raymond just had to turn his eyes towards him and gawk.
"Sakurai is gay?"
Imai sobbed.
"Oh my god." Raymond's gaze travelled repeatedly between the door where the two disappeared and Imai, who decided it was the perfect moment to actually down the rest of his coffee. And stare hopelessly at his food because suddenly he just wasn't hungry anymore. "Imai?"
"I-- I'll be in my room." Imai cast a last mournful look at his plate and fled.
Authors: sphinxofthenile and _ice_lady_
Fandom: Buck-Tick, Der Zibet, Schwein
Pairings: Atsushi/Issay
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Do not own. Make no profit. Mean no harm.
Summary: Constant work pressure, sleepless nights and the like were in the job description. This? This was hell.
Warning: Poor poor Imai and his poor poor eyes.
Word count: 4959
A/N: A brainfart. A horrible brainfart. Because we do believe Imai's got it bad. Still, we regret nothing.
---
Somewhere in Japan, summer 2001
Imai was not amused. Granted, when it came to Atsushi, Imai was rarely amused. Worse was that, in fact, was that Imai was very happy for Atsushi, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d rather if he never got to wish he could unknow certain things.
Sure, Issay was an item, a constant. Hell, Issay was more of a constant in Atsushi’s life than the man’s own child was, which didn’t exactly speak volumes, but it said enough.
If only they could keep it to themselves.
Now, Imai wasn’t exactly the gay bashing type. In his books, he didn’t care what people did with themselves, as long as they did it in private. And he would have thought the same had Atsushi ever behaved like that with a girl. Which he had, when he had been young and stupid, but that was a whole other can of worms that Imai didn’t want to touch.
Issay and he, though... Imai had to wonder when exactly the two planned on exiting the dumb, crazy teenagers in love phase. It had been... amusing and cute, so to speak, for the first several days. Then months and, now, even years. Not that either of them was dumb or socially suicidal enough to start making out in public, but Imai knew Atsushi (and by that he also knew Issay) well enough to know exactly what those looks over a glass of wine entailed.
No wonder he’d lost his appetite for what seemed forever in the past several... well, years, in fact. And that was just dinners. Concerts, on the other hand... Now those were a whole new circle of hell, in Imai’s humble opinion. Whatever sins he had committed in his previous life, they must have been, well, horrid.
Normally, it wasn’t that bad. Sure, it wasn’t a walk on a flowery spring meadow, but over time it was actually getting easier to block out what exactly Atsushi was singing about. There was a fine line between love songs and advertising one’s sex life in full sports arenas. In detail. Atsushi was not crossing this line, he was beyond that already. By a few miles.
And no, Imai really didn’t want to know.
And then there was the newly titled and still in the planning stages Day in Question, also known as Imai’s day from hell. First, what on earth did the guys think? Having a concert every year (for almost a decade now) to celebrate him getting out of jail? That was a day Imai wanted to forget, and not spend every year forcing a dumb smile to his lips in front of fifteen thousand people, all spiced up with the fact that Issay came to congratulate them too and then... stuff happened.
On stage. As well as behind it.
And now this precious event had a name which, if Imai actually believed any of his band mates owned a semi-operable brain, was a huge middle finger to his very own misery. Luckily for him (or maybe not so much), there was nobody smart enough there to figure that one out.
Or, god forbid, someone eloquent enough in English to operate on a level beyond 'oh, it sounded cool'.
Now, to top it all -- this.
Raymond Watts was a remarkable artist. Raymond Watts was someone Imai admired and actually enjoyed working with (unlike certain other individuals in his life, unfortunately). Raymond Watts was the very reason why Imai forced all those hours of private English lessons so he could function on a somewhat operable level when in the same room with the man.
They'd really done remarkable things for the music scene. And they had fun as well.
But god forbid anyone actually cared. Until the moment Atsushi joined them, that was. Suddenly, they were getting a nation wide tour. A nation wide tour with all the concerts sold out ages in advance.
It was despicable. After all those other ways in which Atsushi ruined his life, that devil from the deepest pits of hell had to take his Raymond Watts too.
With his excellent voice, remarkable charm and ten words in English he could distinguish from 'goose'. How the hell that one even happened, Imai didn't know and was quite sure he didn't even want to. Having known Atsushi as long as he did, certain influences were not to be left unaccounted for. And saying Issay rubbed off on Atsushi a bit too much was giving Imai mental images he didn't need to have. Ever.
He still remembered that one time when he decided to check up on Atsushi after the man had been released from the hospital (gods, what was that, '97? Time sure as hell did fly), only to be hit square in the face with reality. In the form of a very tousled and half naked Issay opening the door. Granted, one could have argued that the lowest two buttons on the shirt were done, but that did little to save Imai's brain processes from temporary extinction.
And made sure he thought twice about visiting Atsushi out of the blue ever again. And then some. Hell, it made sure Imai never, ever surprised the man with sudden appearances anywhere that wasn't widely public.
Then again, one could probably consider changing rooms and backstage corridors as such, but Imai knew better. And while he didn't exactly have moral qualms about it, he did very much care about the fact that any of that getting out was potentially disastrous for their image and collective reputation. That, and the fact that Imai really, really just didn't want to be there when the nation found out that their resident sex symbol of, well, way too many years now, was actually gay.
And he definitely didn't want to be here, and especially not now. Just so that he could sit back and enjoy Atsushi once again steal the spotlight, without even meaning to.
Great. Life just really sucked that way, didn't it?
---
It was really horrible, all things considered. As much as Atsushi was enjoying himself with the last two concerts, he had to admit it was beginning to grind on his nerves, this language barrier. Sure, Raymond seemed capable of forming a few sentences in Japanese, and he understood a lot more. Sure, Atsushi could mumble and stutter until they both managed to nod in agreement, but that didn't change the fact that Atsushi was annoyed with it all.
Mostly because, instead of this being a very comfortable dinner in which they could discuss the impressions from the last live (and, hopefully, tweak out all the problems for the next one), all they ended up doing was staring uncomfortably at their food.
Granted, there was Imai, sitting right there, but Atsushi kind of liked the man. To a point. And he definitely didn't want to spoil his appetite after a hard day by demanding he served as a translator between the two.
Atsushi had a distinct feeling the man had been scarred enough by the lyrics themselves, he didn't need to deal with the performance as well. All things considered, of course.
And Atsushi was not outsourcing a translator for anything revolving around things like "Spank The Monkey". For a start, of course.
A shame indeed, because Atsushi was surely having a blast. He'd never dare, not with Buck-Tick (and not just because Imai was willing to beg, plead, threaten, and claim he had a heart condition; or was surely getting one if Atsushi even tried), but this tour proved like a magnificent excuse for Atsushi to go wild. Especially because Raymond seemed more than happy to accommodate. To Imai's horror, of course.
But, in spite it all, Atsushi was having a hard time keeping the grin off his face. Issay was coming over. Tomorrow, after the concert. Even though Atsushi wanted the man there from day one, he had to agree that dragging a random, strange man with him for days on end wasn't exactly something Raymond would buy as an intrinsic part of Japanese culture.
And as much as Atsushi knew he could keep it in his pants (and he'd informed Imai as much, to the man's utter horror), he had a distinct feeling someone would start asking question. Because, unlike the Japanesse, Raymond and his crew were much more nosy, so it seemed.
And Atsushi was not allowed to take that risk. Lest Imai flat out kill him or something such.
"I think I should go," Atsushi said, realising a moment too late that he'd mumbled out the words. Imai got him, of course, but Raymond looked slightly confused. Atsushi smiled. "Sleepy," he said, grabbing his wallet and getting up from his chair.
Imai just waved him off, still too focused on his plate, while Raymond unfortunately took his hand for a handshake, a gesture which anyone normal would have considered highly impolite, but Atsushi had to learn the hard way that foreigners functioned... well, in foreign ways.
"No drinks?" Raymond asked and Atsushi felt the corners of his lips spread into a smile.
Well, he could stay as much. "Shower," he said then, in his broken, horrible English, before he glanced at Imai. "I'll just go change into something more comfortable. See you in half an hour?" he asked and Imai finally looked up.
"Sure. We should be here," the man said.
"Well, then," Atsushi added before nodding at both of them. Sure, he was sleepy, but god forbid he did care about that one. Getting a few glasses of wine before bed always helped in the sleep department, of course. Especially if the company was good.
And Imai wasn't so bad, either. Besides, at least drunk he tended to relax, if only a bit.
But all these thoughts flew out of the proverbial window the moment Atsushi stepped out of the elevator and into the corridor where his room was. Because, there he was, Issay, leaning on the wall next to Atsushi's room, smiling and looking as beautiful as ever.
"Well, this is a surprise," Atsushi whispered, even though all he wanted was to kiss the man. Not in public, unfortunately. "Checking up on me?" he asked, and Issay's lips spread some more. It was indeed hard getting that card through the reader.
"Why would I need to check up on you?" Issay teased, and Atsushi almost bounced as the lock buzzed and he pressed the knob.
"Whether I'm cheating?" he asked in return and Issay snorted.
"We both know you're quite incapable of that one, dear," the man said, but not like any of this mattered once the door clicked closed.
"You think I'm not pretty enough for an affair?" Atsushi purred, stepping closer, and as always it was simply magnificent when Issay didn't step back. After all these years, it still made his heart flutter.
Then Issay slid his hands, cold so very cold from the outside night air, into Atsushi's pants pockets, closing in. "It's not your looks that's the problem dear. It's your brain." Oh, did Atsushi want to be angry, but not when those lips pressed into his own.
Well, good night to them both. This was a surprise Atsushi did not expect. And a whole day early.
"What brings you here?" Atsushi whispered and Issay just shrugged, his face still gorgeously flushed from the obvious temperature change. And then there was that grin...
"Tired of housework?" Issay said, and Atsushi felt his smile disappear. "That was a joke," Issay was quick to add. "But I wouldn't mind being the poor little innocent maiden abused in that big bed of yours," he said and Atsushi burst out laughing.
"If you want, I can--" Atsushi started, but Issay interrupted him.
"Or I can always go and abuse your shower," he purred. "I bet it fits two," he added and stepped back. Good god, did Atsushi regret hearing some idiot knock on his door. Because now, Issay was smiling that way, and it was evil and perfect and wonderful. "I'll warm it up for you," he whispered and disappeared behind the bathroom door with a wink.
Atsushi needed a second knock just to remember he was supposed to open the door and see who was bothering him.
---
Well, this probably wasn't one of his brightest ideas, but Raymond had a feeling that anything else would have been just too impolite. Considering he was the one dumb enough to leave his wallet in his room, stopping by Atsushi's room seemed like the best option when compared to forcing poor Imai to do the trip himself. Not that it made Raymond any more comfortable with the damn language barrier, but hell, it wasn't like he couldn't improvise.
If anything, it was obvious Atsushi and he were showmen enough when it came to that one, and at least stage coordination was easier to manage than words.
Granted, Raymond still had a hard time wrapping his head around the light years between Atsushi on stage and off of it. When they weren't performing, the man was so horribly shy and timid and polite and so Japanese. Like now, once he appeared in the crack with that little smile that for some reason made Raymond grin.
"Heya." Okay, now the hard part. And he had a feeling he did fail at Japanese, because Atsushi was just staring at him with a cornered sort of expression. The smile, though, was still on. Of course. "Just been wondering where did you get lost at," he decided to add in English. One never knew, right? "Coming?"
It was quite the sight, Atsushi's lips spreading some more before the smile faltered, the man looking so apologetic Raymond actually felt bad for his own conscience that convinced him that he really had to do this.
"I'm sorry." Atsushi shook his head. Well, at least Raymond concluded that was what he said. Except, sorry for what? Not coming? Not getting what the whole thing was about? What?
"One on me?" Raymond decided to offer, holding up his wallet for good measure.
And that was when someone started the shower. There was no mistaking the sound, or the source of it, for that matter, and suddenly Raymond felt like introducing his head with the wall. He never should have taken this on himself.
Then again, did Imai not say Atsushi was coming back? Or did he get that part wrong as well? Because obviously, this didn't look like that.
"Ah. Got yourself some company, did you?" he asked, and Atsushi probably caught onto something, because he shifted his weight, looking like he was about to blush. Raymond was tempted to roll his eyes. Considering their porn industry, the whole lot of them were just so damn... proper. And uptight, more often than not.
No wonder they all loved the stage so much. Everybody needed a holiday from such lives, obviously. He felt bad for just thinking it, but well, no use crying over spilt milk or however it went.
"I'm sorry," Atsushi offered again, followed by something else, but Raymond could only make out Imai's name from that one, so he just forced a smile of his own.
"I... guess I better be going and, uhh. Yeah. See you." He gestured towards the elevators, and the smile Atsushi had on this time made him feel all the more bad, because try as he might, it was quite obvious that Atsushi was relieved by that prospect.
"Goodnight," the man whispered in Japanese, finally closing the door. Well, damn. Talk about awkward. Raymond really did deserve a drink.
Thank god that Imai was still there, and actually looking forward to this if the man's smile was anything to go by.
"So, ready?" Raymond asked and Imai shrugged.
"Aren't we waiting for Atsushi?" he asked.
"Oh, that, yeah. Went to pick him up, and..." Raymond started, sliding into one of the free chairs at their table. "Does Sakurai have a girlfriend?" he asked, leaning closer so he was capable of lowering his voice. Raymond knew he was a nosy shit. From Japanese perspective, at least. But that didn't change the fact that he didn't want to put anyone in trouble. Especially someone as public as Atsushi was.
"Uh..." Imai blinked a few times, until he eventually shook his head.
"You sure?" Raymond tried. Nosy shit indeed.
"Trust me on this," Imai said.
Well, damn. "So, a guy can get a hooker around here?" he asked. Stupid question, on a second thought. He knew that prostitution was legal here, but considering everyone around him tended to be so god damned polite, it generally didn't even cross his mind.
"Uh... why?" The way Imai looked at him made Raymond feel sorry for even starting the topic. Timid and easily embarrassed indeed. With a good dose of not wanting to mess with someone else's business. At first, Raymond thought it was just Imai, but it seemed to be very common of these people in general. Then again, Imai was especially closed off to nosiness to begin with. Even for the Japanese.
"There's some chick in Sakurai's room. Thought it was... you know--" Raymond started, and Imai almost dropped his cup of coffee. At that point, Raymond decided that this was, indeed, not any of his business. And if the slight shade of green, that Imai's skin was slowly turning into, was anything to go by, it was better that way.
They were obviously going out drinking alone. And Atsushi, the lucky bastard was having his... girl. Well, not the first time Raymond had been dumped for a fuck, so all was well.
---
Oh, gods, did he miss this. If there was one thing Issay found utterly disagreeable about the existence of Buck-Tick (and by extension, Schwein too) was the fact that it kept Atsushi away for months at a time, and when one threw that together with Issay's own busy schedule, things started looking even worse.
Thank the heavens (and the modern geniuses of their time) for inventing planes, phones, computers, and all those other handy devices that served to bridge the gap between people. Because no matter how hard they tried, two demanding music careers requiring them to be travelling the country all the time did not a good basis for a relationship make. At least, not one that Issay would have liked most of the time.
But this was nice. Who cared that he had to spend a day in and out of airports, or that he had to leave again soon when he could wake up with Atsushi's body plastered to his back and those slow, even breaths tickling his skin. Granted, that way Issay was just a bit too hot while Atsushi's feet were just a bit too cold, but not that it mattered.
Now there was something worth waking up to. And after all that time (a week? Week and a half?), Issay indeed did miss such a thing.
Then the alarm went off, and the reality of it all came crashing in. That being, the fact that Issay operated on more time spent travelling than he had been sleeping. And there was a headache lurking in there somewhere as well. But then Atsushi stirred and yawned, and Issay realised he didn't care. Coffee and aspirins existed for a reason.
"Oh, gods," Atsushi moaned and Issay chuckled.
"They won't help you now," he said and Atsushi looked up from rubbing his eyes, with just a glint of evil lurking in there somewhere. Issay knew those smiles too damned well.
"Coffee?"
"Yes, please," Issay teased and Atsushi made another grunt before he pulled himself out of the bed and tapped to the bathroom. Perfect time for Issay to snatch a cigarette from the nightstand, slipping onto the balcony as he mechanically worked the lighter a few times. While Atsushi claimed he didn't mind that Issay smoked, that still didn't change the fact that Issay knew too damned well how hard it was to quit (and how easy to fail, oh, how easy...), and he was the last person to make such a noble effort all the more difficult for Atsushi.
He didn't even finish his smoke, and he could already hear the door behind him slide open. "Breakfast's in ten," Atsushi whispered, and Issay decided to hurry with the cigarette.
As he slipped back into the room, Atsushi was already mostly dressed which, in Issay's books was a shame indeed. Considering they weren't going to see each other for a while again, and Issay had a distinct feeling there would be no private adult entertainment during the final stages of the show preparations.
Shame he had to leave today. Such a shame indeed.
"You should hurry, you know," Atsushi said as Issay jumped back into the bed.
"Uh, why?" he asked.
"Breakfast," Atsushi offered.
"I'll just eat something later," Issay started, but decided not to finish that one once Atsushi's eyes snapped his way.
"You'll do no such thing," the man said.
"I don't mind," Issay offered. "We don't need to--"
"I'm not ashamed of you," Atsushi snapped once more, and Issay wanted to protest, but god forbid he could even bother with the smile and all. And the fact that now he actually had to hurry to be ready on time. No boas and frills, obviously. Not that Atsushi would have appreciated them properly (at least in public), but a man could dream.
"Imai is going to have a fit," Issay said eventually and Atsushi chuckled.
"Imai is going to have a fit either way," he said.
"You are horrible."
"His problem that he can't accept the fact that I'm gay," Atsushi said a bit too mockingly and Issay folded his arms over his chest, inspecting the room one last time just to make sure he'd taken everything he needed with him.
Gods, was he going to hate packing after they were done eating.
"I don't think it's your orientation he has problems with." Well, Issay just had to.
"Well, not like it's you he has problems with."
"Maybe he's just jealous," Issay added as they walked out of the room. The way Atsushi looked at him after pressing the elevator button was precious indeed. "What?" Issay shrugged, perfect innocence and all. "You haven't squeezed his nipples on stage ever since--" Well, not that he even thought about finishing that one, but the way Atsushi burst out laughing sure made him give up on even trying.
"I dare you to say that to his face," Atsushi said and Issay snorted.
"I don't want to be charged for manslaughter." The bell chimed the arrival of the elevator, and the doors slid open. "So, when are you off the leash? After the concert, I mean."
"Aren't you staying?" Atsushi asked, looking very disappointed.
"Sure, but--"
"Then just wait for me backstage," he offered.
"Dear," Issay started, sighing with mock despair. "An hour of you groping another guy on stage. And he's not exactly bad looking, either. I bought a new camera just for this occasion."
Well, if Issay wanted to make Atsushi look any more uncomfortable, bewildered and flabbergasted than he was now, he would have surely failed. "I-- It's just work!" The man blurted out, and good gods, Issay just wanted to kiss him how adorable he was. Not in the elevator, definitely.
He couldn't resist to arrange Atsushi's collar though, smooth out a few invisible creases from the shirt. "Well then, you better work hard tonight, hmm?"
"When are you leaving again?" Atsushi's hands settled on Issay's waist, and damn, would Issay have loved the look in those eyes were they not reaching the ground floor, forcing him to pull away.
"Ten to eleven."
"Shame. Must you?"
Issay sighed. It was such a shame indeed.
---
Imai knew his day was officially ruined the moment he walked into the restaurant and, among a handful of tired, half asleep people walking about the buffet like zombies, he spotted Atsushi smiling, and full of energy. And humming a happy tune. And putting cakes on his plate.
This was... bad. And no, Imai did not want to know. Any of it.
"Hey, Imai." Atsushi also spotted him standing there, accompanying the greeting with a bright smile that made Imai's slight hangover exponentially worse. "How are you this fine morning?"
"What do you think?"
"You look a bit green. One too many yesterday?" Atsushi chatted. If only he would have stopped smiling.
"Not enough." Imai groaned, reaching for a plate and regretting the fact that his stomach demanded a good breakfast after drinking the night away.
"If you say so... Gonna take that muffin?"
As much as Imai knew that snatching it was childish, at least it made him feel better.
"I'll take that as a yes." Atsushi chuckled. "You really are grumpy. Cheer up, hmm?"
Oh yes. Once he was back in his dark room with a bottle of aspirin and some music. Really dark. Sure, what Imai wanted to say was several levels more nasty (along the lines of watching Atsushi's good mood be run over by a freight train, amongst other things), but he never got to voice any of it, because Raymond also walked in and joined them, looking slightly worse for the wear but in a rather good mood himself.
After exchanging a few courteous words, Atsushi fluttered away from the two of them, on his merry way to replenish his glucose supplies. And gods, did the thought make Imai regret even owning a brain. He groaned again.
"Someone's paying the last night's sins," Raymond teased and Imai forced a smile as he poured himself some coffee, realising he was going to need three more cups if he wanted to function this morning.
"Well, it was fun," he said, because it was polite thing to do. Sure, it was fun. As long as the two of them could actually talk without their social recluse slash sex god being around and requiring constant nannying.
"Nowhere near as much as some of us, eh?" Raymond obviously just had to. Not that he had the slightest idea, of course, so it wasn't the man's fault. But Imai still failed to keep the groan from leaving his lips as he slumped into his chair, holding onto that cup of coffee like it was a lifeline. "Good god, does he glow," Raymond continued, completely blind with how much this was hurting Imai.
Hard not to be blinded by the glorious sun shining right there. Imai wouldn't have been surprised if the man started tap-dancing in the middle of the restaurant.
And then he spotted Issay.
As did Raymond. "Who's that?" the man asked once Atsushi sat down at the table he was obviously sharing with his... whatever they were, Imai didn't want to think about it this early.
Oh, god. Couldn't he just die already? At this point, it just seemed like the one merciful thing Imai needed. Except, Raymond was standing right there, still curious, still waiting for an answer. Obviously. The gods really were cruel. "That's Issay. Atsushi's... friend," Imai decided to elaborate because Raymond obviously wasn't catching on at first.
"Oh, really?" The man's face brightened some more, making Imai wish he could just pack up his plate and retreat into his room. No such luck, obviously. "You absolutely must introduce us then!"
"Uh, I don't thi--" Imai started, but Raymond was faster than that, and there was nothing Imai could do but follow. And feel even worse after Issay stood from his seat with a wide smile, looking as pleased to see them as ever.
"Ah, Imai, it's been a while," the man said with a nod, and then took Raymond's hand. "Mr Watts. Atsushi told me so much about you."
Oh gods. Imai decided to drink his coffee. Trust Issay to be his utmost polite and sociable and just flat out amazing in spite of the language barrier. And trust Atsushi to look as uncomfortable as ever, once his barely functioning brain finally realised the implications of this all.
"Pleasure to meet you," Raymond supplied with the obligatory billion dollar smile.
"I flew over just to see you perform tonight," Issay said and Raymond nodded, obviously knowing as much Japanese for this.
"Mr Issay has quite a busy schedule," Imai found himself saying in English, and Raymond acknowledged his words with a nod.
"Oh, did you?" Raymond ended up asking. "I'm much honoured. And when did you come over?" he asked.
"Last night," Issay said with a smile, and Atsushi dropped his muffin. Imai wished he had a knife, because killing himself seemed like a much easier way to go, than... well, this.
This being the look Raymond shot at Imai, that made sure Imai wouldn't believe the man not figuring it all out even if Raymond said so under oath.
Yes, the next several minutes proved to be rather awkward, indeed, and Imai actually sighed with relief after Issay finished his coffee and politely excused himself on the account of having to pack. With Atsushi storming after him almost wordlessly like some sort of a puppy. And once the two were left alone, and Imai concluded that his life wasn't ruined just yet, Raymond just had to turn his eyes towards him and gawk.
"Sakurai is gay?"
Imai sobbed.
"Oh my god." Raymond's gaze travelled repeatedly between the door where the two disappeared and Imai, who decided it was the perfect moment to actually down the rest of his coffee. And stare hopelessly at his food because suddenly he just wasn't hungry anymore. "Imai?"
"I-- I'll be in my room." Imai cast a last mournful look at his plate and fled.