[a9; ToraxSaga, SagaxNao] "Ceasing in the Sun", chapter#08
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"CEASING IN THE SUN"
a fan art inspired chaptered story
rating throughout the story: PG-13 - PG-16
Tora and Saga, one of those love stories that should have never happened -or, to be frank, one that never did happen. Or how does a love story without love sound? Not much of a story worth telling. Unless... unless it was love after all.
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CHAPTER#08/14
Rating: PG13 for language
Genre: drama, fluff, sex (as a theme, not so much about the act itself)
Characters/pairings: ToraxSaga, SagaxNao; occasional cameos
Disclaimer: The writer has no connections whatsoever to the respective artists. This is a pure work of fiction.
A/N: Usually, I don't write these 'everyone's ghei' style of fics but because of a certain dialogue I wanted to write, I needed a remark of a... certain person. So. Apparently, in my story, everyone is happily ghei, after all 8D
Other than that, I quite love this chapter, for multifarious reasons. Hopefully you'll cherish it too.
Summary: "...I'm kicking and screaming, you're not listening/Where are you? And where are you?"
-OUR LADY PEACE -WHERE ARE YOU?
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CHAPTER #08: It hurts deeper than I thought it did
Tora lit a cigarette and blew out loose circles of smoke towards the floor. An adrenaline rush taking after a concert had washed over both of them so seductively that it was a miracle they hadn't torn each other's clothes off in the backstage. The taxi driver hadn't even tried to suppress his loathing as he had seen the greedy kisses on the backseat from the rearview mirror. Actually, he was a bit surprised too -he had never known such a position the two musicians had tangled into was even possible in such a tiny vehicle.
Fading twirls of smoke found their way to an abandoned pair of jeans lying in a sad bundle near the foot of the bed. Tora sighed. His eyes wandered back to the bed where an evenly breathing man lay under a blanket. At this late hour of night, with his tousled-up hair and smeared stage make-up, Saga reminded Tora of a whore, more than anything.
...a beautiful whore, though.
Tora stood up and rubbed his eyes tiredly, trying to recall where his t-shirt had flown to... Or if it had even made its way into Saga's apartment.
Rustling of sheets made the guitarist froze. Steady breathing halted, leaving the room eerily silent. Tora stayed his back towards the bed, being morbidly afraid his mere glance might tore the bassist off of his sleep.
Tora knew it: he was weak. He had always been prone to gotten attached to people lingering around him for too long. On that drunken night nearly a year ago, he had known it. He had gotten what he had asked for -and he was in no place to ask for more.
Yet, somehow... Secretly, a long ago, he had started craving after something that just wasn't his to take; just because he was weak, not able to tell his heart to listen to his mind.
Tora felt his body relaxing as drowsy sniffling returned. He fished his shoes from underneath the bed and when he was about to leave wearing his sweater only, his eyes happened to stumble across a gray tee lying on a wardrobe.
If he stayed... If he touched those sun-gilded, golden curls... If he claimed one more kiss...
He didn't know what would happen. But, there was something he had grown to know: that what they did was wrong, even though he wasn't quite able to place a finger on why. It had something to do with how he treated Saga; how he wasn't able to pull him out of that nocturnal world the bassist was tied to, and how he purposely didn't even attempt at saving the other man, since it was a place where Saga seemed to belong to. Saga deserved to be brought back to light, though, yet Tora didn't have the strength to do it; he didn't know if he was even permitted to try.
If Tora stayed, if he said those things out loud... He'd probably be laughed at, softly, as Saga always laughed when he thought someone was joking around.
Tora wasn't joking around. He was dead serious -and it scared him even more.
The guitarist cherished the last pleasant chill resulting from a drag of nicotine. Then he pulled his t-shirt on and walked out of the room, not casting one glance behind him.
Saga lay in bed, utterly awaken and sleepless, his eyes staring blankly at a wall. He felt hollowness billowing over his languid body in overwhelming waves.
Something was about to happen, and he had a bad feeling about it.
Tora speeded up, not caring about the stinging pain in his side. It had been too long since the last time. When being a professional musician, he had used to go to running regularly, and even to a gym every now and then, incited by the others. Cigarettes had kept him thin and muscles had been taken care of by harsh, frenetic touring. He had not parted with cigarettes but with exercise yes, and it had started to show.
He made a face and added more volume to the song that had been shuffled by his iPod. He felt asphalt under his sneakers and the first drops of sweat that began running down his nose from under the hood of his sweater.
As Tora ran across a people-seething street crammed with shops and stalls, he thought he saw a girl halting, confused eyes locking on him. Tora shook his head amusedly, silently laughing at his own stupidity -it had been years since he had been featured on cover of Shoxx. On top of it, now, he was wearing a shabby, worn-out, baggy shirt -it was nothing but wishful thinking to hope someone would recognize him, after all this time.
However, when Tora turned around a corner, he cast one last peek at the girl, and to his surprise -and secret pleasure- the girl was still monitoring his steps.
Tora tugged the hood deeper down onto his face and allowed a tiny, brief smile illuminate his features as he continued through a park nearby through which a shortcut to his rented apartment led.
Tora's pace slowed down as glistering waters of a small duck pond appeared from behind a bend of the road. Wavering, he stopped. Feeling guilty that he had so easily given in in front of exhaustion and laziness, he steadied himself by placing his both hands on a tree trunk nearby. Then, he started stretching his legs ostensibly, satisfied with the excuse he had come up with in order to have a break and take in the beautiful landscape around him. He had left to move and his dignity and self-esteem didn't approve of his self-discipline failing.
As stretching his arms up towards the azure sky, Tora enjoyed warm spring breeze playing on his stomach of which a few lousy centimeters was now revealed as his shirt had ran up. For a moment the man toyed with an idea of jumping into the pond, fully dressed. He came to the conclusion that it was better not to -doing that sober, in broad daylight, was something that Yoshiki wouldn't probably appreciate. Tora's position in the company wasn't reputable enough that a perfectionist like Yoshiki would forgive him such a stunt.
Tora's nose wrinkled. Hopping up and down, he relaxed his limbs, preparing for one last spurt home. Sometimes he really missed his days of being young when he had been forgiven for all his reckless, irresponsible and stupid, yet ah, so fun, acts with a mere shrug and a few scolding words. Like, for example-
Tora stood still, sadness slowly washing over him. In his mouth, his tongue had brushed over the spot where the background of his lip ring had been for years, always giving him something to do when he had been nervous or anxious but there hadn't been a chance for a calming smoke or a soothing drink. The piece of jewelry had stayed, even when his entire look had changed. The tiny piece of sharp metal had seen his weak days, accompanied him during crazy nights fulfilled with composing and drinking... It had walked with him through hardships and been there with him when lovers had had their hands caressing his face...
Tora made a few more hops before shooting off.
The lip ring had become an essential part of him, crucial, even. Yet, he had had to take it off. When he had took a look at his own reflection on a mirror, he had seen an individual who existed no more; someone he had wanted to make go away. A man full of fear, failing and constant bitterness.
As he had finally torn the ring off, he had felt at ease. Encouraged by the feeling, Tora had hidden the little what was left of the tinted hair by re-dying it black, and bought a pair of un-ripped, rivet-free jeans. After years of being apart, Tora had reunited with Amano Shinji, a boy who his parents were proud to acknowledge.
From behind the trees of the park a peaceful fragment of a street licking at the centre of Tokyo opened. Tora stopped in front of his home building and gave in completely; he allowed his hands to rest on his knees whilst he caught up with his breath.
”Okaeri.”
Slowly, Tora straightened up. A sunshiny smile greeted him from behind a pair of arms crossed onto the chest.
Suddenly Tora knew that everything had been in vain. Amano Shinji should let Tora fix his own mistakes.
"Tadaima."
A note. Another. A full riff.
Tora was sitting on an amplifier in the band's rehearsal room. His fingers ran on the strings, in search of a story to play and share with the others. All the chords and melodies taking off sounded somehow wrong; pale, worn-out, used. Tora heaved a frustrated sigh and tried again. A note. Another.
Played by others so many times before him; played by radio so many times before him.
Tora straightened up and grimaced at the ceiling and its neon lamps above him. The guitar felt cold and stiff on his hands, not lively and pulsating, as it had before.
Arms winded themselves around his neck. Tora felt the owner of the arms resting his chin on the crown of his head.
"Let it be, beautiful. There are better days, there are excellent days and then there are days when the guitar should be in its holder and the player himself should be having a cup of coffee with the charming bassist of his band. Whose bass, as a side-note, is already resting in its own stand, without a friend."
Tora plucked a new chord.
"I slept with someone else last night."
The announcement-like, casually thrown declaration got Saga's arms tautening. Because of surprise caused by the randomness of the words, Tora judged, for when Saga soon answered, his voice was calm -playful, even.
"Was it a good shag?"
Disappointment landed heavily in Tora's chest.
"Decent."
"Someone I know?"
"Mmm, Maru."
"Ah, so, his reputation is not quite as exaggerated as I've believed, then... How's Bis these days?"
"Disbanded?"
"Oh, right. I forgot."
A note, another. Silence.
Neither one of them noticed the troubled shadow flickering in Saga's eyes.
Nao, who had witnessed the scene from the doorpost, exited quietly.
He had noticed.
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*I'm more and more content at to which direction I'm taking the story. I'm a sucker for good angst, thus there has been more of it lately in the fic. Also, I've sketched another Tora/Saga fic on my mind, and to my surprise, it has several themes similar to this fic's content in it, yet with the new fic, I'm thinking about pushing the setting familiar from Ceasing in the Sun a bit further. Wait and see~
*Also, I've been given an honour to write into words a magnificent plotline huffy_chan came up with some time ago; it's about drug usage and friendships and people failing to find what is good in life. However, I'm not going to proceed with it until all my unfinished projects have gotten completed.
*Lastly, thanks, everybody, for throwing me so many fabulous pairings! I'm slowly fulfilling every and each request I've received so far~♥