Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better [Chapter 4]
Title: Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better
Author: Thursday Saint Giles
Pairing: Gackt/Miyavi
Rating: NC-17 (eventually) PG-13 (for language for now)
Summary: SKIN needs a forth member, but Gackt still isn’t sure why they need anyone but him. Also, Crack!Fic
AN: I left the lyrics in Japanese here because I just feel that like honourifics, they aren't something that translates well into English. I'm not generally a fan of using random Japanese in my fanfic because it doesn't make sense and is kinda annoying, but I had to stick with it here. Take it or leave it...
PS, this chapter doesn't quite cover what it was meant to. The Hyde scene will have to be in the next part, because I'm not really content with it yet. If anyone is willing to beta, let me know...
“What,” Gackt asked, voice dripping with disdain, “is that thing?”
Miyavi bit his lip against the automatic annoyance he would normally express. Most of the time he didn’t refrain from letting people know exactly what he thought of them, but despite his best intentions, Gackt was kinda growing on him. And getting under Gackt’s skin was…fun.
He spun on his stool, spreading a grin over his lips. “My Gig Pig?” He drawled, twirling himself left and right playfully, legs spread wide provocatively. “I’m surprised someone like you wouldn’t know about it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gackt asked. His scowl was petulant. Miyavi bit down hard on his lower lip, wondering what it would be like to do that to Gackt. Then he would lap that scowl right away. Might as well get some practice in for their fan service, right?
“Just…you seem like the type who likes to do everything for himself. And that is just what the Gig Pig allows me to do…” He leaned back, putting his elbows on the Gig Pig and stretch his back, watching Gackt watch the hem of his shirt rise. “Would you like a…demonstration?” he asked, licking his teeth.
“Sure, Miyavi,” Gackt said, his voice lacking some of its usual venom, but derisive none-the-less. “Show me something new.” He moved to take a seat, and as his back was turned, Miyavi’s eyes narrowed. He was pretty sure he could show Gackt a lot of new things, but there was an appropriate time and place…or at least, that’s what Yoshiki would say if he came across Miyavi showing Gackt some of the things he really wanted to.
Miyavi spun back around and picked up his guitar, then adjusted his harmonica. Gackt looked dubious. Miyavi couldn’t wait to see that expression change. He slid his left foot into the tambourine and placed his right over the pedal and settled into place.
Something occurred to him. “Have you heard much of my music, Nii-chan?” God, he loved the pinched expression Gackt got whenever he used that term.
“Only some television appearance Sugizo showed me once. You playing the guitar. And I saw some of your older shows, when you were with Dué le Quartz,” Gackt admitted.
Miyavi arched a brow. He couldn’t help a little amused giggle. “You’ve never listened to any of my solo work?” Gackt didn’t respond. “Oh, I totally get it,” Miyavi went on. “You’re the singer, right? So as long as I come and play my part, it doesn’t really matter, hmm?” He leaned forward a little. “Only, Gackt, my fans will be coming to see us, too. They’ll have certain expectations. And I will be doing your back up. Aren’t you at all curious?”
“I’m waiting,” Gackt said, as if Miyavi hadn’t just spoken.
Miyavi fought the urge to growl low in his throat. He’d been fighting so many urges since he met Gackt, and that just wasn’t like him. Heaven help Gackt when he finally gave in. “Fine,” Miyavi said through clenched teeth.
He’d just been playing around before Gackt had arrived, but now he ran through a mental list of his songs, wondering which would elicit the best response. Then a wicked thought occurred to him. Licking his lip ring, he began his song.
“Kimi wa seijitsu na moralist, kirei na yubi de boku wo nazoru,” he began, delighting in the way Gackt’s eyes widened in both surprise and recognition. Of course it was a risky gambit to play one of Gackt’s own songs. After all, Gackt was a far better singer. But Sakito had once told Miyavi that his voice was pure sex, and that, he truly did believe, and used to his full advantage now, playing it up with his remix of the song.
“Boku wa junsui na terrorist kimi no omou ga mama ni kakumei ga okiru…” He wiggled his brows, really getting into it, improvising with the Gig Pig and his guitar. It lacked the polished sound of the real thing, but if the sudden flush on Gackt’s cheeks and neck was any indication, he was accomplishing what he meant to.
“Stop it,” Gackt interrupted, when Miyavi reached the chorus, interrupting Miyavi mid-moan. It was probably for the best, really.
“I meant no offence,” Miyavi told him cheekily, and instead snapped out the beginning of “Baka na Hito,” complete with new flourishes on the tambourine and drum, and went through all of “Are You Ready to Rock” and a sampling of “Gig Pig Boogie,” watching Gackt’s expression get tighter and tighter.
“Wanna give it a try?” Miyavi asked, stopping abruptly a third of the way into “Selfish Love.”
Gackt didn’t step back from a challenge, rising from the couch and approaching the Gig Pig as if it was some huge mountain he was about to attempt to climb. Miyavi supposed most people didn’t see this side of Gackt, when he was uncertain. Probably no one else ever challenged him like this, which was really their loss, because though he was never quite flustered, he sometimes got damn close, and seeing perfect perfect Kamui Gackt get not-quite-flustered was so much fun.
Miyavi slid off his stool sidewise, carefully holding his guitar so that Gackt couldn’t see his hard on. It was half because of watching Gackt and half because of performing for Gackt, and it wasn’t something he was ready to acknowledge with Gackt around; probably Gackt would flip out and go running to Yoshiki about how this band was never going to work. And really? The five times a day he did that was already a bit too much.
Gackt took the stool, back ramrod straight, stiffly putting his left foot through the strap. Miyavi passed him the guitar and quickly took a seat, crossing his legs at the knee and ankle, like a girl. Gackt made him feel open like a girl, like he wanted to be fucked, spread open, legs wide. And shit, thinking like this wasn’t helping him at all.
Gackt played around for a few minutes, then Sugizo and Yoshiki came in and wanted their turns, and Gackt let them, taking the opportunity to watch and learn a little through their mistakes, and when Sugizo offered to get lunch, Miyavi went to get it with him. It didn’t do him any harm to let Gackt practice. He didn’t have any weird superiority complex or need to prove himself to anyone. He knew how good he was, and knew perfectly what areas needed improvement, and wasn’t the sort to let excellence in others to cause him discomfort.
But after lunch he found Gackt’s food uneaten and the Gig Pig gone from the rehearsal room and found his stolen instrument and Gackt in the recording studio and watched from the doorway for a while. Of course Gackt was good at it. Even before he’d joined the visual kei scene he’d known of Gackt, and everyone in the industry talked about his drive for perfection in everything. It was impressive because he was virtually perfect.
Gackt wasn’t playing anything done. He was composing something entirely new, and it was good, but it wasn’t great. He was too defined by what he’d done in the past. Gackt didn’t push himself into new areas. Miyavi thought maybe it had to do with that superiority complex and the inherit feelings of inadequacy and fear of failure that it hid. Gackt was so fascinating, and it took a lot to hold Miyavi’s interest, but Gackt could probably do it for a good long while. He was pretty sure he could help Gackt move in new directions. Sugizo and Yoshiki were good at it. The four of them together would be amazing once they got past this new, awkward phase.
“Try this,” Miyavi said, moving before he’d consciously decided to do so, pushing off the frame with his elbow and going to Gackt. He reached for Gackt’s hand but Gackt jerked back instinctively. They looked each other in the eye for a moment, and when Miyavi reached again, Gackt remained still. Miyavi readjusted the fingers of Gackt’s left hand and drew his fingers down the strings. “And this,” Miyavi murmured softly, again readjusting the position of Gackt’s fingers. “This…this…”
Gackt let out a shuddering breath and it stirred the Miyavi’s hair and he suddenly realised he’d been leaning in. His legs were splayed so wide he was practically straddling the Gig Pig, his hips moving all on their own, tiny little thrusting motions. “This,” he whimpered and Gackt closed his eyes tightly. Miyavi bit his lip against a moan and pushed himself to his feet. “Well, you get the idea, I’m sure, Nii-san,” he said, quickly regaining his composure, pushing back his hair with his wrist. “After all, you are Gackt.”
He winked and left the room, and felt his heart rate return to normal, albeit slowly.
Author: Thursday Saint Giles
Pairing: Gackt/Miyavi
Rating: NC-17 (eventually) PG-13 (for language for now)
Summary: SKIN needs a forth member, but Gackt still isn’t sure why they need anyone but him. Also, Crack!Fic
AN: I left the lyrics in Japanese here because I just feel that like honourifics, they aren't something that translates well into English. I'm not generally a fan of using random Japanese in my fanfic because it doesn't make sense and is kinda annoying, but I had to stick with it here. Take it or leave it...
PS, this chapter doesn't quite cover what it was meant to. The Hyde scene will have to be in the next part, because I'm not really content with it yet. If anyone is willing to beta, let me know...
“What,” Gackt asked, voice dripping with disdain, “is that thing?”
Miyavi bit his lip against the automatic annoyance he would normally express. Most of the time he didn’t refrain from letting people know exactly what he thought of them, but despite his best intentions, Gackt was kinda growing on him. And getting under Gackt’s skin was…fun.
He spun on his stool, spreading a grin over his lips. “My Gig Pig?” He drawled, twirling himself left and right playfully, legs spread wide provocatively. “I’m surprised someone like you wouldn’t know about it.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gackt asked. His scowl was petulant. Miyavi bit down hard on his lower lip, wondering what it would be like to do that to Gackt. Then he would lap that scowl right away. Might as well get some practice in for their fan service, right?
“Just…you seem like the type who likes to do everything for himself. And that is just what the Gig Pig allows me to do…” He leaned back, putting his elbows on the Gig Pig and stretch his back, watching Gackt watch the hem of his shirt rise. “Would you like a…demonstration?” he asked, licking his teeth.
“Sure, Miyavi,” Gackt said, his voice lacking some of its usual venom, but derisive none-the-less. “Show me something new.” He moved to take a seat, and as his back was turned, Miyavi’s eyes narrowed. He was pretty sure he could show Gackt a lot of new things, but there was an appropriate time and place…or at least, that’s what Yoshiki would say if he came across Miyavi showing Gackt some of the things he really wanted to.
Miyavi spun back around and picked up his guitar, then adjusted his harmonica. Gackt looked dubious. Miyavi couldn’t wait to see that expression change. He slid his left foot into the tambourine and placed his right over the pedal and settled into place.
Something occurred to him. “Have you heard much of my music, Nii-chan?” God, he loved the pinched expression Gackt got whenever he used that term.
“Only some television appearance Sugizo showed me once. You playing the guitar. And I saw some of your older shows, when you were with Dué le Quartz,” Gackt admitted.
Miyavi arched a brow. He couldn’t help a little amused giggle. “You’ve never listened to any of my solo work?” Gackt didn’t respond. “Oh, I totally get it,” Miyavi went on. “You’re the singer, right? So as long as I come and play my part, it doesn’t really matter, hmm?” He leaned forward a little. “Only, Gackt, my fans will be coming to see us, too. They’ll have certain expectations. And I will be doing your back up. Aren’t you at all curious?”
“I’m waiting,” Gackt said, as if Miyavi hadn’t just spoken.
Miyavi fought the urge to growl low in his throat. He’d been fighting so many urges since he met Gackt, and that just wasn’t like him. Heaven help Gackt when he finally gave in. “Fine,” Miyavi said through clenched teeth.
He’d just been playing around before Gackt had arrived, but now he ran through a mental list of his songs, wondering which would elicit the best response. Then a wicked thought occurred to him. Licking his lip ring, he began his song.
“Kimi wa seijitsu na moralist, kirei na yubi de boku wo nazoru,” he began, delighting in the way Gackt’s eyes widened in both surprise and recognition. Of course it was a risky gambit to play one of Gackt’s own songs. After all, Gackt was a far better singer. But Sakito had once told Miyavi that his voice was pure sex, and that, he truly did believe, and used to his full advantage now, playing it up with his remix of the song.
“Boku wa junsui na terrorist kimi no omou ga mama ni kakumei ga okiru…” He wiggled his brows, really getting into it, improvising with the Gig Pig and his guitar. It lacked the polished sound of the real thing, but if the sudden flush on Gackt’s cheeks and neck was any indication, he was accomplishing what he meant to.
“Stop it,” Gackt interrupted, when Miyavi reached the chorus, interrupting Miyavi mid-moan. It was probably for the best, really.
“I meant no offence,” Miyavi told him cheekily, and instead snapped out the beginning of “Baka na Hito,” complete with new flourishes on the tambourine and drum, and went through all of “Are You Ready to Rock” and a sampling of “Gig Pig Boogie,” watching Gackt’s expression get tighter and tighter.
“Wanna give it a try?” Miyavi asked, stopping abruptly a third of the way into “Selfish Love.”
Gackt didn’t step back from a challenge, rising from the couch and approaching the Gig Pig as if it was some huge mountain he was about to attempt to climb. Miyavi supposed most people didn’t see this side of Gackt, when he was uncertain. Probably no one else ever challenged him like this, which was really their loss, because though he was never quite flustered, he sometimes got damn close, and seeing perfect perfect Kamui Gackt get not-quite-flustered was so much fun.
Miyavi slid off his stool sidewise, carefully holding his guitar so that Gackt couldn’t see his hard on. It was half because of watching Gackt and half because of performing for Gackt, and it wasn’t something he was ready to acknowledge with Gackt around; probably Gackt would flip out and go running to Yoshiki about how this band was never going to work. And really? The five times a day he did that was already a bit too much.
Gackt took the stool, back ramrod straight, stiffly putting his left foot through the strap. Miyavi passed him the guitar and quickly took a seat, crossing his legs at the knee and ankle, like a girl. Gackt made him feel open like a girl, like he wanted to be fucked, spread open, legs wide. And shit, thinking like this wasn’t helping him at all.
Gackt played around for a few minutes, then Sugizo and Yoshiki came in and wanted their turns, and Gackt let them, taking the opportunity to watch and learn a little through their mistakes, and when Sugizo offered to get lunch, Miyavi went to get it with him. It didn’t do him any harm to let Gackt practice. He didn’t have any weird superiority complex or need to prove himself to anyone. He knew how good he was, and knew perfectly what areas needed improvement, and wasn’t the sort to let excellence in others to cause him discomfort.
But after lunch he found Gackt’s food uneaten and the Gig Pig gone from the rehearsal room and found his stolen instrument and Gackt in the recording studio and watched from the doorway for a while. Of course Gackt was good at it. Even before he’d joined the visual kei scene he’d known of Gackt, and everyone in the industry talked about his drive for perfection in everything. It was impressive because he was virtually perfect.
Gackt wasn’t playing anything done. He was composing something entirely new, and it was good, but it wasn’t great. He was too defined by what he’d done in the past. Gackt didn’t push himself into new areas. Miyavi thought maybe it had to do with that superiority complex and the inherit feelings of inadequacy and fear of failure that it hid. Gackt was so fascinating, and it took a lot to hold Miyavi’s interest, but Gackt could probably do it for a good long while. He was pretty sure he could help Gackt move in new directions. Sugizo and Yoshiki were good at it. The four of them together would be amazing once they got past this new, awkward phase.
“Try this,” Miyavi said, moving before he’d consciously decided to do so, pushing off the frame with his elbow and going to Gackt. He reached for Gackt’s hand but Gackt jerked back instinctively. They looked each other in the eye for a moment, and when Miyavi reached again, Gackt remained still. Miyavi readjusted the fingers of Gackt’s left hand and drew his fingers down the strings. “And this,” Miyavi murmured softly, again readjusting the position of Gackt’s fingers. “This…this…”
Gackt let out a shuddering breath and it stirred the Miyavi’s hair and he suddenly realised he’d been leaning in. His legs were splayed so wide he was practically straddling the Gig Pig, his hips moving all on their own, tiny little thrusting motions. “This,” he whimpered and Gackt closed his eyes tightly. Miyavi bit his lip against a moan and pushed himself to his feet. “Well, you get the idea, I’m sure, Nii-san,” he said, quickly regaining his composure, pushing back his hair with his wrist. “After all, you are Gackt.”
He winked and left the room, and felt his heart rate return to normal, albeit slowly.