[Fanfiction] Speechless
Title: Speechless
Author: takegamiteijiro
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluffy Angst?
Warnings: Angst
Summary: Even without a voice, Gackt has the strength to hang on.
Word Count: 1281
Fandom: J-Rock
Character/Pairing: Gackt x Hyde
Side Note: I'm not too fond of writing things at no-o'clock in the morning because they usually come out badly, but... ^^;
It had been almost three months since he had last been able to speak. Three long, laborious months. It had been difficult at first, but he had thought he had it under control. Thought that he would manage and pour his soul into his instruments rather than his singing, something he was no longer capable of. He had thought that he would be able to continue, to strive for the same perfection, but as he tried, each day was harder than the last. Every hour was a struggle.
The realisation that he could no longer be who he had been hit him when he picked up the violin and had to set it down because of the way the instrument pressed against his scarred throat.
It had been an accident, such a horrible accident. It had killed three, injured more and everyone had said that Gackt had been one of the lucky ones.
Or had he been? Some days he felt as though there was nothing left for him, nothing at all. There were days he would lock himself in his study and write and write and write until it was like the old days, when You would have to call Hyde to drag him out so that he might rest on something other than a desk covered in stray papers and crumpled sheet music. But little by little, the desire to write faded - after all, what good was he if he could no longer perform?
He had known from the moment he had woken up under the lights, from the very instant he had awoken in the hospital and been utterly unable to speak that he would never be on stage again. But now... the realisations grew more and more painful with each day. The news about him had long faded, and he had been replaced by the next artist. The industry had moved on, the world had forgotten.
It hurt more than he had thought it would and had since developed a habit of ignoring the television. Instead he passed his time reading, trying his hand at art, waiting for his lover to return home. But time and time again he would find himself near tears, silent in his agony as he struggled to simply stay sane within the body that had damned him to a life of silence. He would never condemn anyone else to this but more and more often he would come close to wishing that it could be someone else's problem, anyone else's problem.
It was on times like this that he would retreat even further into himself, and times like this he would contemplate the unthinkable. But in the end it was always one thing that stopped him from even planning an untimely demise, one thing that kept him hanging on when he should have fallen away that fateful afternoon.
His heart.
Each day, no matter how it was spent, would always manage to improve in the evenings, for that was when his lover would return. No matter how tired he was, Gackt would always greet Hyde with an embrace and a smile. It didn't matter that it had been a day wasted to him, or that the world had moved on without him. When he was with Hyde, he was almost complete. There would always be a part of his heart that would be missing, a part of him that would grow even sadder for the fact that he could not reply to his gentle lover's words, but they became bearable burdens, as though be simply having Hyde there his words didn't matter at all.
Tonight, though, Hyde was late. It was well past when the smaller man usually came home and Gackt could do nothing but wait. Unable to make a phone call, unable to do more than send several text messages that had remained unanswered, he paced around the house, to the front door, to the dojo-styled gym he had built on the first floor. Up and down the staircases, back and forth on each floor, Gackt was unable to stop himself from wondering what if? What if something had happened to Hyde? What if Hyde had grown tired of returning home to a mute lover?
What if there had been an accident?
The thought all but paralysed Gackt - he knew from the news reports what his car had looked like after the accident, knew from onlookers' pictures what he had looked like, pierced by twisted metal and bleeding out on the hot pavement. He didn't want to imagine Hyde like that but he couldn't stop himself. Hyde hadn't said anything about going out tonight, hadn't mentioned anything about going anywhere, Hyde, Hyde, Hyde...
Nervous fingertips fluttered up to the twisted scar that split his neck, the ugly disfigurement that was the proof of his near-death. He could feel his pulse quickening as he allowed himself to consider that perhaps something had happened - or maybe Hyde had decided to leave? The smaller man had been distant lately...
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and simply sat by the front door. He hated feeling like this, hated looking as desperate as he no doubt did but he was helpless in the face of his own fears and Hyde was the only one who could allay them. But he wasn't here, not now, not yet...
It was hours later that Gackt was awoken, cheek pressed against the wall next to the door as soft fingertips ran through his hair, gently easing him back into consciousness.
"Satoru, wake up," a quiet, fond voice murmured and Gackt blinked blearily, yawning once before his vision focused.
Hyde.
There was an instant burst of movement, and a second later Hyde was in his arms, the smaller body pressed against his own as he took in the man's scent, his feel, the way his lips felt as Gackt leaned down to kiss them...
"I'm sorry I was so late," Hyde offered when they broke apart, and it was only then that Gackt realised there was something lover's other hand, hidden behind his back. "There wasn't much time for me to do this during the day, and my bodyguards aren't paid to work after I get out of the studio, so..."
There was a moment of silence and then a rustling of paper, and then Hyde let Gackt see what it was he had brought home, what it was that had taken so long after practice and recording and all of the things Hyde had to do during the day - a small bouquet of roses. Flowers he had always loved, always tried to keep around. He smiled.
"I know I'm not around all the time, and this isn't much in compensation, but..." Hyde began, biting his bottom lip, and Gackt could feel any residual tension in him fading away, flowing out of him at the tiny gesture that somehow meant so much. I love you, he wished he could say. I love you and it doesn't matter as long as you come back to me at the end of the day.
Something in Hyde's gaze changed then, brown eyes going from the flowers to Gackt's own and pausing there as if studying his expression before he spoke again.
I love you, Gackt thought again, wishing, hoping, praying.
"I love you too," Hyde whispered, and there was nothing more he needed to say as the younger musician leaned down to kiss him again, lips betraying the faintest hint of a smile. This was what made his day. This was what made life worth living.
Because here, he didn't need words.
All he needed was his heart.
Author: takegamiteijiro
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluffy Angst?
Warnings: Angst
Summary: Even without a voice, Gackt has the strength to hang on.
Word Count: 1281
Fandom: J-Rock
Character/Pairing: Gackt x Hyde
Side Note: I'm not too fond of writing things at no-o'clock in the morning because they usually come out badly, but... ^^;
It had been almost three months since he had last been able to speak. Three long, laborious months. It had been difficult at first, but he had thought he had it under control. Thought that he would manage and pour his soul into his instruments rather than his singing, something he was no longer capable of. He had thought that he would be able to continue, to strive for the same perfection, but as he tried, each day was harder than the last. Every hour was a struggle.
The realisation that he could no longer be who he had been hit him when he picked up the violin and had to set it down because of the way the instrument pressed against his scarred throat.
It had been an accident, such a horrible accident. It had killed three, injured more and everyone had said that Gackt had been one of the lucky ones.
Or had he been? Some days he felt as though there was nothing left for him, nothing at all. There were days he would lock himself in his study and write and write and write until it was like the old days, when You would have to call Hyde to drag him out so that he might rest on something other than a desk covered in stray papers and crumpled sheet music. But little by little, the desire to write faded - after all, what good was he if he could no longer perform?
He had known from the moment he had woken up under the lights, from the very instant he had awoken in the hospital and been utterly unable to speak that he would never be on stage again. But now... the realisations grew more and more painful with each day. The news about him had long faded, and he had been replaced by the next artist. The industry had moved on, the world had forgotten.
It hurt more than he had thought it would and had since developed a habit of ignoring the television. Instead he passed his time reading, trying his hand at art, waiting for his lover to return home. But time and time again he would find himself near tears, silent in his agony as he struggled to simply stay sane within the body that had damned him to a life of silence. He would never condemn anyone else to this but more and more often he would come close to wishing that it could be someone else's problem, anyone else's problem.
It was on times like this that he would retreat even further into himself, and times like this he would contemplate the unthinkable. But in the end it was always one thing that stopped him from even planning an untimely demise, one thing that kept him hanging on when he should have fallen away that fateful afternoon.
His heart.
Each day, no matter how it was spent, would always manage to improve in the evenings, for that was when his lover would return. No matter how tired he was, Gackt would always greet Hyde with an embrace and a smile. It didn't matter that it had been a day wasted to him, or that the world had moved on without him. When he was with Hyde, he was almost complete. There would always be a part of his heart that would be missing, a part of him that would grow even sadder for the fact that he could not reply to his gentle lover's words, but they became bearable burdens, as though be simply having Hyde there his words didn't matter at all.
Tonight, though, Hyde was late. It was well past when the smaller man usually came home and Gackt could do nothing but wait. Unable to make a phone call, unable to do more than send several text messages that had remained unanswered, he paced around the house, to the front door, to the dojo-styled gym he had built on the first floor. Up and down the staircases, back and forth on each floor, Gackt was unable to stop himself from wondering what if? What if something had happened to Hyde? What if Hyde had grown tired of returning home to a mute lover?
What if there had been an accident?
The thought all but paralysed Gackt - he knew from the news reports what his car had looked like after the accident, knew from onlookers' pictures what he had looked like, pierced by twisted metal and bleeding out on the hot pavement. He didn't want to imagine Hyde like that but he couldn't stop himself. Hyde hadn't said anything about going out tonight, hadn't mentioned anything about going anywhere, Hyde, Hyde, Hyde...
Nervous fingertips fluttered up to the twisted scar that split his neck, the ugly disfigurement that was the proof of his near-death. He could feel his pulse quickening as he allowed himself to consider that perhaps something had happened - or maybe Hyde had decided to leave? The smaller man had been distant lately...
Finally, he couldn't take it anymore and simply sat by the front door. He hated feeling like this, hated looking as desperate as he no doubt did but he was helpless in the face of his own fears and Hyde was the only one who could allay them. But he wasn't here, not now, not yet...
It was hours later that Gackt was awoken, cheek pressed against the wall next to the door as soft fingertips ran through his hair, gently easing him back into consciousness.
"Satoru, wake up," a quiet, fond voice murmured and Gackt blinked blearily, yawning once before his vision focused.
Hyde.
There was an instant burst of movement, and a second later Hyde was in his arms, the smaller body pressed against his own as he took in the man's scent, his feel, the way his lips felt as Gackt leaned down to kiss them...
"I'm sorry I was so late," Hyde offered when they broke apart, and it was only then that Gackt realised there was something lover's other hand, hidden behind his back. "There wasn't much time for me to do this during the day, and my bodyguards aren't paid to work after I get out of the studio, so..."
There was a moment of silence and then a rustling of paper, and then Hyde let Gackt see what it was he had brought home, what it was that had taken so long after practice and recording and all of the things Hyde had to do during the day - a small bouquet of roses. Flowers he had always loved, always tried to keep around. He smiled.
"I know I'm not around all the time, and this isn't much in compensation, but..." Hyde began, biting his bottom lip, and Gackt could feel any residual tension in him fading away, flowing out of him at the tiny gesture that somehow meant so much. I love you, he wished he could say. I love you and it doesn't matter as long as you come back to me at the end of the day.
Something in Hyde's gaze changed then, brown eyes going from the flowers to Gackt's own and pausing there as if studying his expression before he spoke again.
I love you, Gackt thought again, wishing, hoping, praying.
"I love you too," Hyde whispered, and there was nothing more he needed to say as the younger musician leaned down to kiss him again, lips betraying the faintest hint of a smile. This was what made his day. This was what made life worth living.
Because here, he didn't need words.
All he needed was his heart.