Truth or Dare?
Title - Truth or Dare?
Author - unwritten_ideas
Rating - R (swearing, m/m)
Word Count - 4,147
Pairing - You x Gackt (kinda)
Characters - Gackt, You, Chacha, Junji, Chirolyn
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - Gackt tells the story of exactly why he’s afraid of trains. You doesn’t like the answer.
Note - written for the youxgackt weekly prompt ‘afraid of trains’
Note 2 - This turned out completely differently to how I expected… After a couple of days of editing, I give up and apologise in advance XD
**
“Why do you refuse to travel by trains?”
Gackt placed his drink, a straight whiskey, no ice or mixer, onto the dresser beside him and glared at the bright pink hair of the person who had asked him the question. It had been somewhere between his fourth and fifth straight whiskey, no ice or mixer, that he’d suggested a game of truth or dare to kill the boredom yet another hour in his rainy hotel room was bringing on and things had been progressing nicely until Chirolyn decided to ask him that.
“I don’t refuse to travel by trains.”
“Oh yes you do,” Junji scoffed, “remember that time in Singapore? When you complained about taking a train so loudly that a policeman came over to see what the argument was about? Are they too dirty and full of the great unwashed public for you, Princess?” Junji laughed, the teasing tone in his voice all too familiar to those sprawled out across the bed in Gackt’s suite.
“If I had a problem with dirt and the great unwashed I wouldn’t have allowed you into my band,” Gackt teased back, rolling his eyes when Junji pretended to cry. “It’s nothing to do with that.”
“Then what is it?” Chirolyn pressed. “You can’t pussy out of answering Gaku, this game was your idea and we’ve all been honest so far.”
“Too honest I think…” Chacha muttered. “This game is always dangerous. Surely we’re too old for this by now?”
“Speak for yourself old man,” You said with a grin. “I think this is an important bonding session and I love finding out things I didn’t know about everyone.”
Gackt picked up his drink from the bedside dresser and took a long gulp, the burn of the whiskey no longer present after a long night of drinking. “You must hate it when I’m asked a question then. You already know all of the answers, You.”
“Actually, I don’t know the answer to this one,” You answered. Gackt opened his mouth to respond but You cut him off. “I know the stories about you being molested on trains by random women but I don’t buy that as a reason.”
“Why not? It’s not a nice experience to be groped by a stranger.”
“C’mon, Gaku,” You scoffed, “I know you. You’re kinky enough and a big enough exhibitionist to get off on that. I bet it does your ego the world of good. No, there has to be something more and as we’ve all been honest, you have to be too. Your game, your rules.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to lose to us all do you?” Junji said with a wicked grin.
“I didn’t realise this was a competition,” Gackt answered.
“Everything is a competition with you, Gaku,” Chacha pointed out.
“Answer my question,” Chirolyn said. “We’ve all answered your sadistic questions and dares. You don’t want to be the only one to fail at the game do you? We’ll never let you forget this if you do pussy out.”
Gackt sighed. He didn’t want to tell the story but his competitive, ‘win at all costs’ side of him wouldn’t allow him to walk away either. The band knew him too well.
“Fine, you win. I’ll tell you. It’s because of one morning many years ago…”
He was going to kill him.
He was going to take his drumsticks and stick them up his ass sideways. He was going to strangle him with his own guitar strings. He was going to skin him alive and use him to patch up the holes on his drum kit.
He was going to kill Kurosaki You in the most painful, drawn out way that his evil little mind could think of.
It was 9:05 on a Monday morning and Gackt stood on the busiest platform for the busiest train line for the busiest train in all of Kyoto. Due to an ‘incident’ on the train tracks earlier that morning that had postponed most of the trains, the usual busyness of rush hour had quadrupled and Gackt was currently surrounded by a sea of impatient business suits and school uniforms. He clutched his drumstick case tightly to his chest after the fifteenth person hit it with their briefcase and leaned against the post that was to his left.
You was so dead.
The band rehearsal had been You’s idea. Their last rehearsal on Saturday evening had been a disaster and it was only two weeks until their support slot at the local flea pit live venue. It wasn’t the Tokyo Dome, they’d be lucky to have an audience of more than ten people and be paid more than the cost of an Asahi beer, but it was a start and they needed to be at their best.
Saturday evening had shown that they were so far away from their best that Gackt had almost considered cancelling the show.
But You, the eternal sunny optimist and head cheerleader of the band, had arranged for them to meet on Monday at 8am sharp for a full day of rehearsals. Gackt, Ren and their singer for the week had all arrived promptly at 8am, doped up on coffee and in the singer’s case something possibly more illegal, and had waited for their guitarist to arrive. As it approached 9am and there was no sign of You and no answer when they called his apartment, they decided to call it quits.
So Gackt was back at the station, waiting for a train with seemingly half the population of Kyoto and with a mood so dark that he just felt the need to punch something. Hard. Preferably something You shaped.
Finally the train arrived and Gackt shuffled forward, the wave of people carrying him onto the train regardless of whether he wanted to be there or not. He managed to slide between some High School students who giggled annoyingly at him when they saw his face, their whispered cries of “gorgeous” ringing in his ears, and claimed a spot by the doors on the other side of the train. Soon the train was full and he found himself pressed up against the doors on his right side and the seats behind him. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sweaty salary man who was pressed against his front and twisted his body so that he was facing the doors, his back now on display to the still giggling High School girls.
It was the height of an unnaturally warm Kyoto summer. The train was full, hot and highly uncomfortable. The train’s air condition was fighting a losing battle against the accumulated body heat of the passengers and the distinct and strong smell of sweat clung to the air and every surface it touched.
Gackt decided that he was going to torture You for a very, very, long time before he killed him.
The train started to move and Gackt watched as Kyoto flew past the windows. At every station more and more people got on the train until Gackt felt like he didn’t even have room to breathe. He found that he simply couldn’t move amongst the crush and was suddenly very glad that his cheap apartment was so far out of the city that the train would be practically empty of its salary man passengers by the time it arrived at his station.
The constant jostling of the train and the people it contained meant that he was becoming far more intimately acquainted with those around him than he could ever want to be. He had a briefcase digging painfully into his hip, his own drumstick case pressed tightly against his chest and random hands kept brushing lightly against his back and ass.
But then a hand lingered.
His eyes widened as he realised that the hand that was pressed against his right buttock was simply not moving. If anything, it was pressing into him with more force and the fingers were curling around the curve of his ass that led to his thighs. He turned his head to look behind him but he was pressed so firmly into his little corner between the doors and the chairs that he had no leverage or room to do anything anymore than turn his head slightly. The hand merely tightened its grip at his movements and squeezed.
The far too cheery Japanese and English PA announcements cut into the quiet chatter that flowed throughout the train and signalled that they’d arrived at another station. Gackt breathed a big sigh of relief when he felt the hand disappear. He could hear shuffling and footsteps behind him as passengers left the train only to be replaced in the crush by an equal number of new commuters and he hoped that the hand and its owner had been one of the many people to have reached their destination. Sadly, random gropes had become a common occurrence on the Kyoto train services and both men and women had been caught molesting other passengers. Gackt, like everybody else in earshot, had laughed and mocked Ren when he had suffered at the manicured hands of a slightly drunk university student the week prior but now, he didn’t find it quite as humorous.
The train restarted and shortly after, the hand was back. This time it curled against his hip and the aggressively worded, completely impolite demand to leave him the hell alone that he had formed in his mind died in his throat when he felt a body press flush against him from behind. The hand on his hip slid across the smooth cotton of his T shirt and pressed flat against his stomach, forcing his body to press back even more.
He wanted to shout, he wanted to punch the person groping him in the face but as he looked down and saw how big and calloused the hand was and felt something pressed into the small of his back any protest he had was killed by embarrassment and shock.
It was a man.
The hand stayed pressed against his stomach but was joined by its partner and Gackt found that he had nowhere to move. He was still being crushed by the weight of the people on the train and now he was being held firmly in place by the hands, arms and body of a man even bigger than he was. In a normal situation Gackt would have punched the guy onto his ass or died trying but this was so far from normal that Gackt was simply stunned into complying with whatever those hands, arms and body wanted of him. His martial arts training, smart mouth and dominant pride deserted him and he was frozen solid, his body a still statue just begging to be touched.
One of the hands on his stomach started to move, the palm sliding effortlessly against his flat stomach and down over the studded leather belt that held up his black jeans. He could feel the hand so intently through the thick denim that it felt like the hand was inside, pressed skin to skin against his body. The hand stopped at his crotch and he felt the strong fingers push in-between his thighs, forcing him to widen his stance slightly so that the hand could work its way to its destination.
As the hand roughly massaged his cock through his jeans, his mouth opened to make a sound. Gackt wasn’t entirely sure what sound he was going to make, be it complaint or wordless moan, but it was stolen by a quiet but audible “ssshh” from the man behind him. The voice was deep and his hot breath floated past Gackt’s ear and cheek and Gackt couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine.
The hand continued to massage him, the palm kneading his cock as the fingers curled around his crotch causing the tight denim to rub against his skin in such a delicious way. He could hear nothing on the crowded and noisy train other than his own heartbeat and he suddenly realised that he was aroused.
Painfully aroused.
As the train sped along the tracks and rocked due to the movement, Gackt could feel the hips pressed against his ass and lower back moving against him. The hips soon picked up a movement of their own as they ground against his ass to a rhythm he couldn’t hear. The force in the body that held him so tightly was holding in him place against the stranger and it was only the hand that remained on his stomach that stopped his body from being pushed flush against the train door.
As the hips continued their movement it became pretty evident that he wasn’t the only one aroused. The thought that some strange man was hard due to him was both horrifying and exciting at the same time. He felt dirty and desirable, violated and vulnerable, soiled and sensual. It was all too much for his brain to comprehend as the hand continued to massage his cock into full hardness.
But then the hand was gone. There was no body pressing against him from behind, no hand on his stomach and no pressure on his cock. More people had left the train so he could now move and he quickly looked behind him, seeing nothing more than people with their heads down and the same giggling school girls as before. He searched all of their faces but saw no hint or sign that any of them was his mystery man.
Gackt hovered somewhere between disappointed and relieved that he couldn’t see the person who owned those hands. The confusion that had descended on him alongside those hands was still present and he didn’t know how he would have reacted. If it had been a simple betrayal of his body, a reaction to a stimulus and an educated pair of hands it would be easy but he knew that somewhere, there was a part of him that had not only enjoyed the wrongness of the situation but had also enjoyed that it was a man that had caused it.
And that was something he couldn’t understand.
He had never been touched like that by a man before. He had never wanted to be. He had always been the ‘straight’ guy of the group, the one who chased any tail he could find and was very successful at it, thank you very much. He’d greet You’s boyfriends and Ren’s one night stands with the same smile and welcome that he reserved for Ren’s girlfriends but he had never had the desire to find a boyfriend of his own. He simply wasn’t attracted to men.
Or so he had thought.
The cheery PA announcements broke into his thoughts and signalled that the next station the train was due to arrive at was his own. Gackt adjusted the drumstick case in his hands, willed his erection to disappear and gingerly left the train, casting one last lingering look over his shoulder at the people left on the carriage.
“So that’s it? You were groped by some random dude on a train?” Chirolyn asked. “I didn’t think that would bother you considering…”
“Considering that I’m quite happy for dudes to grope me now?” Gackt replied. “This was different.”
“How?” asked Chacha.
Gackt sighed. “I was a kid. I didn’t know who I was and I didn’t realise at the time that I could be attracted to guys as well as women. It was a shock for me to get aroused by a strange guy when I didn’t think that I could be aroused by a guy at all.”
“Is that why you were so withdrawn and jumpy in crowds that summer?” You asked quietly.
“Yes,” Gackt answered. “Look, I know it sounds stupid and seems an overreaction as I’m now more than happy to be with men as well as women but it was confusing to me. I thought I only wanted women. I only wanted to want women you know? I didn’t need another reason for my father to consider me a disappointment.”
“Oh, Gaku,” Chacha said softly as he pulled the singer into a one armed hug, “no wonder you don’t like trains if they make you remember all of this.”
You watched as Gackt made himself more comfortable in Chacha’s loose, friendly embrace and then jumped to his feet. “I’m going to call it a night now guys… I think the drink has gone to my head as I don’t feel too well.”
“That’s a good idea,” Chirolyn replied, “I think that after that answer we’re probably finished playing this game anyway.”
“Yeah… Good job on killing the game Gaku,” Junji teased.
“Lightweights,” Gackt scoffed. “You wanted honesty and I gave it to you.”
“And we do appreciate it,” Chacha said, pressing a light kiss to Gackt’s forehead as he pushed the singer off him and stood up. “It can’t have been easy to explain that to us.”
Gackt watched with a smile as Junji and Chirolyn said their goodbyes and left his suite. Chacha stayed a few moments longer and You still stood by the bed, his eyes downcast and refusing to meet Gackt’s gaze.
“Look,” You began nervously, “I know that I said I’d stay with you tonight but I really don’t feel well and I think I’d just keep you awake. I’m going to go back to my room okay?”
Gackt frowned. He’d asked You earlier that day to share his suite with him as he could feel those same insecurities that had kept him awake for the last fifteen years creeping in again and usually the only remedy for them was the presence of his best friend. It was a weakness of his that he hated but was a routine that You understood and had followed for many years. If it meant sharing a bed with Gackt just so that the man could get peaceful sleep without his demons eating away at him and keeping him awake then You was always happy to comply.
In fact, Gackt could not remember a single time You had ever said ‘no’ to his request. Even if they’d argued or there were girlfriends or boyfriends on the scene You would be there if asked, lying next to him under the covers, helping to soothe his soul simply by existing.
“Have I done something wrong?” Gackt asked quietly.
“No… no, Gaku,” You answered quickly. “I just think I’d do you more harm than good tonight, that’s all. If I feel better then I’ll stay with you tomorrow.”
“….okay,” Gackt reluctantly agreed as he sat on the bed and watched You leave.
“Are you going to be okay?” Chacha asked.
“Of course,” Gackt answered, a hint of familiar bravado and confidence entering his voice, “I’m not a little boy, I’m not afraid of the dark and I can sleep on my own. I just like You’s company sometimes. That’s all.”
Chacha didn’t entirely believe him but knew Gackt’s pride wouldn’t appreciate being called a liar. “You know where I am if you need me, right?”
“Yes, mother,” Gackt replied cheekily.
“Brat,” Chacha grinned. “Sweet dreams, Gaku.”
Chacha left the suite and walked down the corridor to his own room. He took the keycard from his pocket and noticed a sliver of light underneath the door of You’s hotel room. There was something about You’s behaviour that didn’t quite sit right with him so he walked the few steps across the corridor and knocked on You’s door.
“You-kun… Can I talk to you?”
It took a few moments but eventually Chacha heard You shuffling behind the door. You was already ready for bed, he had changed and removed his contact lenses, but Chacha could tell by the look in his eyes that sleep would not be claiming him anytime soon.
“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
“What are you talking about Cha?”
Chacha sank into one of the armchairs at the foot of You’s bed and motioned for his fellow guitarist to join him. Instead You perched on the edge of his bed and started picking at the bed covers.
“I’m talking about you not spending the night in Gaku’s room. Since when have you ever been able to deny that man anything?” You didn’t answer. “Gaku was right. What happened on that train wasn’t your fault and he doesn’t blame you for it. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it.”
“Maybe he should blame me…”
“You missed rehearsals, You. We’ve all done it. Even Mr. Perfect in the huge ass suite has missed them in the past. You weren’t to know what would happen.”
“Do you know why I missed that rehearsal? It’s because I’d been out the night before with some friends. They all hated Gaku. They thought he was scary and strange and didn’t know why I was friends with him. They only invited me on the condition that I wouldn’t tell him about it in case he decided to invite himself. We went back to someone’s apartment to continue the party and it was 8:30 before I remembered we had rehearsals.”
“So?” Chacha asked. “Your friends didn’t like him. From what I’ve heard about Gaku back then I don’t blame them. I don’t think he liked himself much either. It’s still not your fault.”
“I left the apartment and caught the train to the rehearsal studio,” You continued. Chacha doubted You had even heard him. “It pulled into the station around 9:05 and I was going to get off but then I saw Gaku getting on. I hadn’t even realised it was his train. I was going to go over and apologise to him but I could see how angry he was so I didn’t speak to him.”
“Ah,” Chacha said “You feel guilty because you didn’t stop it. If the train was that busy you wouldn’t have seen what was happening even if you stood next to him. It’s still not your fault.”
Again, You ignored the comment. “I was still completely drunk and after stumbling through the crowd I found myself stood behind Gaku. He was in his own little world, as always, and I wanted to walk past him but I was trapped in the middle of all of the people. It was so cramped and I kept being pushed against him… my hand kept brushing against his ass.”
Chacha’s eyes widened. “Oh, You… Please tell me you didn’t… That it wasn’t you?”
This time You heard the interruption and looked Chacha in the eyes. “I was drunk, Chacha. I was drunk off my ass because the guy I was in love with didn’t like guys and saw me as nothing more than a friend and a guitarist. And there he was, stood right next to me and allowing me to touch what I knew I couldn’t have. It was stupid of me, I shouldn’t have done it and I hated myself for it but just like Gaku couldn’t stop it from happening I couldn’t stop it either.”
“That’s why you couldn’t stay with him tonight.”
“Yeah… The one time I was able to touch him the way I want to it scarred him so badly he still refuses to ride trains now. That’s not good for the ego.”
“He didn’t know it was you…”
“And if he did he’d punch me in the face,” You said. “I’d deserve it too. I’m disgusted with myself for acting like that, for taking advantage of him and I’ve spent the last eighteen years trying to make it up to him.”
“You…”
You shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything Chacha. I know what I did and I know what I have to do to make it better. Don’t worry, I’ll be back to my normal self tomorrow and if he needs someone to lie next to him tomorrow so he can sleep then I’ll be there like a best friend should be. Just give me tonight to hate myself for what I’ve done to him and normal service shall resume in the morning.”
Chacha stood and walked to the door. He was about to open the door when he turned to You again. “If you need anything….”
“I won’t. Good night Cha.”
Chacha soon found himself back in the corridor. He could see the twin slivers of light poking out from beneath both You and Gackt’s doors and wished there was someway he could make everything better for the two men who had come to mean the world to him.
Instead he settled for going to sleep himself, safe in the knowledge that no matter how bad things seem at night, they are always better in the morning. Or at least, he could always fool himself into thinking that.
~owari
Author - unwritten_ideas
Rating - R (swearing, m/m)
Word Count - 4,147
Pairing - You x Gackt (kinda)
Characters - Gackt, You, Chacha, Junji, Chirolyn
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - Gackt tells the story of exactly why he’s afraid of trains. You doesn’t like the answer.
Note - written for the youxgackt weekly prompt ‘afraid of trains’
Note 2 - This turned out completely differently to how I expected… After a couple of days of editing, I give up and apologise in advance XD
**
“Why do you refuse to travel by trains?”
Gackt placed his drink, a straight whiskey, no ice or mixer, onto the dresser beside him and glared at the bright pink hair of the person who had asked him the question. It had been somewhere between his fourth and fifth straight whiskey, no ice or mixer, that he’d suggested a game of truth or dare to kill the boredom yet another hour in his rainy hotel room was bringing on and things had been progressing nicely until Chirolyn decided to ask him that.
“I don’t refuse to travel by trains.”
“Oh yes you do,” Junji scoffed, “remember that time in Singapore? When you complained about taking a train so loudly that a policeman came over to see what the argument was about? Are they too dirty and full of the great unwashed public for you, Princess?” Junji laughed, the teasing tone in his voice all too familiar to those sprawled out across the bed in Gackt’s suite.
“If I had a problem with dirt and the great unwashed I wouldn’t have allowed you into my band,” Gackt teased back, rolling his eyes when Junji pretended to cry. “It’s nothing to do with that.”
“Then what is it?” Chirolyn pressed. “You can’t pussy out of answering Gaku, this game was your idea and we’ve all been honest so far.”
“Too honest I think…” Chacha muttered. “This game is always dangerous. Surely we’re too old for this by now?”
“Speak for yourself old man,” You said with a grin. “I think this is an important bonding session and I love finding out things I didn’t know about everyone.”
Gackt picked up his drink from the bedside dresser and took a long gulp, the burn of the whiskey no longer present after a long night of drinking. “You must hate it when I’m asked a question then. You already know all of the answers, You.”
“Actually, I don’t know the answer to this one,” You answered. Gackt opened his mouth to respond but You cut him off. “I know the stories about you being molested on trains by random women but I don’t buy that as a reason.”
“Why not? It’s not a nice experience to be groped by a stranger.”
“C’mon, Gaku,” You scoffed, “I know you. You’re kinky enough and a big enough exhibitionist to get off on that. I bet it does your ego the world of good. No, there has to be something more and as we’ve all been honest, you have to be too. Your game, your rules.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to lose to us all do you?” Junji said with a wicked grin.
“I didn’t realise this was a competition,” Gackt answered.
“Everything is a competition with you, Gaku,” Chacha pointed out.
“Answer my question,” Chirolyn said. “We’ve all answered your sadistic questions and dares. You don’t want to be the only one to fail at the game do you? We’ll never let you forget this if you do pussy out.”
Gackt sighed. He didn’t want to tell the story but his competitive, ‘win at all costs’ side of him wouldn’t allow him to walk away either. The band knew him too well.
“Fine, you win. I’ll tell you. It’s because of one morning many years ago…”
He was going to kill him.
He was going to take his drumsticks and stick them up his ass sideways. He was going to strangle him with his own guitar strings. He was going to skin him alive and use him to patch up the holes on his drum kit.
He was going to kill Kurosaki You in the most painful, drawn out way that his evil little mind could think of.
It was 9:05 on a Monday morning and Gackt stood on the busiest platform for the busiest train line for the busiest train in all of Kyoto. Due to an ‘incident’ on the train tracks earlier that morning that had postponed most of the trains, the usual busyness of rush hour had quadrupled and Gackt was currently surrounded by a sea of impatient business suits and school uniforms. He clutched his drumstick case tightly to his chest after the fifteenth person hit it with their briefcase and leaned against the post that was to his left.
You was so dead.
The band rehearsal had been You’s idea. Their last rehearsal on Saturday evening had been a disaster and it was only two weeks until their support slot at the local flea pit live venue. It wasn’t the Tokyo Dome, they’d be lucky to have an audience of more than ten people and be paid more than the cost of an Asahi beer, but it was a start and they needed to be at their best.
Saturday evening had shown that they were so far away from their best that Gackt had almost considered cancelling the show.
But You, the eternal sunny optimist and head cheerleader of the band, had arranged for them to meet on Monday at 8am sharp for a full day of rehearsals. Gackt, Ren and their singer for the week had all arrived promptly at 8am, doped up on coffee and in the singer’s case something possibly more illegal, and had waited for their guitarist to arrive. As it approached 9am and there was no sign of You and no answer when they called his apartment, they decided to call it quits.
So Gackt was back at the station, waiting for a train with seemingly half the population of Kyoto and with a mood so dark that he just felt the need to punch something. Hard. Preferably something You shaped.
Finally the train arrived and Gackt shuffled forward, the wave of people carrying him onto the train regardless of whether he wanted to be there or not. He managed to slide between some High School students who giggled annoyingly at him when they saw his face, their whispered cries of “gorgeous” ringing in his ears, and claimed a spot by the doors on the other side of the train. Soon the train was full and he found himself pressed up against the doors on his right side and the seats behind him. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the sweaty salary man who was pressed against his front and twisted his body so that he was facing the doors, his back now on display to the still giggling High School girls.
It was the height of an unnaturally warm Kyoto summer. The train was full, hot and highly uncomfortable. The train’s air condition was fighting a losing battle against the accumulated body heat of the passengers and the distinct and strong smell of sweat clung to the air and every surface it touched.
Gackt decided that he was going to torture You for a very, very, long time before he killed him.
The train started to move and Gackt watched as Kyoto flew past the windows. At every station more and more people got on the train until Gackt felt like he didn’t even have room to breathe. He found that he simply couldn’t move amongst the crush and was suddenly very glad that his cheap apartment was so far out of the city that the train would be practically empty of its salary man passengers by the time it arrived at his station.
The constant jostling of the train and the people it contained meant that he was becoming far more intimately acquainted with those around him than he could ever want to be. He had a briefcase digging painfully into his hip, his own drumstick case pressed tightly against his chest and random hands kept brushing lightly against his back and ass.
But then a hand lingered.
His eyes widened as he realised that the hand that was pressed against his right buttock was simply not moving. If anything, it was pressing into him with more force and the fingers were curling around the curve of his ass that led to his thighs. He turned his head to look behind him but he was pressed so firmly into his little corner between the doors and the chairs that he had no leverage or room to do anything anymore than turn his head slightly. The hand merely tightened its grip at his movements and squeezed.
The far too cheery Japanese and English PA announcements cut into the quiet chatter that flowed throughout the train and signalled that they’d arrived at another station. Gackt breathed a big sigh of relief when he felt the hand disappear. He could hear shuffling and footsteps behind him as passengers left the train only to be replaced in the crush by an equal number of new commuters and he hoped that the hand and its owner had been one of the many people to have reached their destination. Sadly, random gropes had become a common occurrence on the Kyoto train services and both men and women had been caught molesting other passengers. Gackt, like everybody else in earshot, had laughed and mocked Ren when he had suffered at the manicured hands of a slightly drunk university student the week prior but now, he didn’t find it quite as humorous.
The train restarted and shortly after, the hand was back. This time it curled against his hip and the aggressively worded, completely impolite demand to leave him the hell alone that he had formed in his mind died in his throat when he felt a body press flush against him from behind. The hand on his hip slid across the smooth cotton of his T shirt and pressed flat against his stomach, forcing his body to press back even more.
He wanted to shout, he wanted to punch the person groping him in the face but as he looked down and saw how big and calloused the hand was and felt something pressed into the small of his back any protest he had was killed by embarrassment and shock.
It was a man.
The hand stayed pressed against his stomach but was joined by its partner and Gackt found that he had nowhere to move. He was still being crushed by the weight of the people on the train and now he was being held firmly in place by the hands, arms and body of a man even bigger than he was. In a normal situation Gackt would have punched the guy onto his ass or died trying but this was so far from normal that Gackt was simply stunned into complying with whatever those hands, arms and body wanted of him. His martial arts training, smart mouth and dominant pride deserted him and he was frozen solid, his body a still statue just begging to be touched.
One of the hands on his stomach started to move, the palm sliding effortlessly against his flat stomach and down over the studded leather belt that held up his black jeans. He could feel the hand so intently through the thick denim that it felt like the hand was inside, pressed skin to skin against his body. The hand stopped at his crotch and he felt the strong fingers push in-between his thighs, forcing him to widen his stance slightly so that the hand could work its way to its destination.
As the hand roughly massaged his cock through his jeans, his mouth opened to make a sound. Gackt wasn’t entirely sure what sound he was going to make, be it complaint or wordless moan, but it was stolen by a quiet but audible “ssshh” from the man behind him. The voice was deep and his hot breath floated past Gackt’s ear and cheek and Gackt couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down his spine.
The hand continued to massage him, the palm kneading his cock as the fingers curled around his crotch causing the tight denim to rub against his skin in such a delicious way. He could hear nothing on the crowded and noisy train other than his own heartbeat and he suddenly realised that he was aroused.
Painfully aroused.
As the train sped along the tracks and rocked due to the movement, Gackt could feel the hips pressed against his ass and lower back moving against him. The hips soon picked up a movement of their own as they ground against his ass to a rhythm he couldn’t hear. The force in the body that held him so tightly was holding in him place against the stranger and it was only the hand that remained on his stomach that stopped his body from being pushed flush against the train door.
As the hips continued their movement it became pretty evident that he wasn’t the only one aroused. The thought that some strange man was hard due to him was both horrifying and exciting at the same time. He felt dirty and desirable, violated and vulnerable, soiled and sensual. It was all too much for his brain to comprehend as the hand continued to massage his cock into full hardness.
But then the hand was gone. There was no body pressing against him from behind, no hand on his stomach and no pressure on his cock. More people had left the train so he could now move and he quickly looked behind him, seeing nothing more than people with their heads down and the same giggling school girls as before. He searched all of their faces but saw no hint or sign that any of them was his mystery man.
Gackt hovered somewhere between disappointed and relieved that he couldn’t see the person who owned those hands. The confusion that had descended on him alongside those hands was still present and he didn’t know how he would have reacted. If it had been a simple betrayal of his body, a reaction to a stimulus and an educated pair of hands it would be easy but he knew that somewhere, there was a part of him that had not only enjoyed the wrongness of the situation but had also enjoyed that it was a man that had caused it.
And that was something he couldn’t understand.
He had never been touched like that by a man before. He had never wanted to be. He had always been the ‘straight’ guy of the group, the one who chased any tail he could find and was very successful at it, thank you very much. He’d greet You’s boyfriends and Ren’s one night stands with the same smile and welcome that he reserved for Ren’s girlfriends but he had never had the desire to find a boyfriend of his own. He simply wasn’t attracted to men.
Or so he had thought.
The cheery PA announcements broke into his thoughts and signalled that the next station the train was due to arrive at was his own. Gackt adjusted the drumstick case in his hands, willed his erection to disappear and gingerly left the train, casting one last lingering look over his shoulder at the people left on the carriage.
“So that’s it? You were groped by some random dude on a train?” Chirolyn asked. “I didn’t think that would bother you considering…”
“Considering that I’m quite happy for dudes to grope me now?” Gackt replied. “This was different.”
“How?” asked Chacha.
Gackt sighed. “I was a kid. I didn’t know who I was and I didn’t realise at the time that I could be attracted to guys as well as women. It was a shock for me to get aroused by a strange guy when I didn’t think that I could be aroused by a guy at all.”
“Is that why you were so withdrawn and jumpy in crowds that summer?” You asked quietly.
“Yes,” Gackt answered. “Look, I know it sounds stupid and seems an overreaction as I’m now more than happy to be with men as well as women but it was confusing to me. I thought I only wanted women. I only wanted to want women you know? I didn’t need another reason for my father to consider me a disappointment.”
“Oh, Gaku,” Chacha said softly as he pulled the singer into a one armed hug, “no wonder you don’t like trains if they make you remember all of this.”
You watched as Gackt made himself more comfortable in Chacha’s loose, friendly embrace and then jumped to his feet. “I’m going to call it a night now guys… I think the drink has gone to my head as I don’t feel too well.”
“That’s a good idea,” Chirolyn replied, “I think that after that answer we’re probably finished playing this game anyway.”
“Yeah… Good job on killing the game Gaku,” Junji teased.
“Lightweights,” Gackt scoffed. “You wanted honesty and I gave it to you.”
“And we do appreciate it,” Chacha said, pressing a light kiss to Gackt’s forehead as he pushed the singer off him and stood up. “It can’t have been easy to explain that to us.”
Gackt watched with a smile as Junji and Chirolyn said their goodbyes and left his suite. Chacha stayed a few moments longer and You still stood by the bed, his eyes downcast and refusing to meet Gackt’s gaze.
“Look,” You began nervously, “I know that I said I’d stay with you tonight but I really don’t feel well and I think I’d just keep you awake. I’m going to go back to my room okay?”
Gackt frowned. He’d asked You earlier that day to share his suite with him as he could feel those same insecurities that had kept him awake for the last fifteen years creeping in again and usually the only remedy for them was the presence of his best friend. It was a weakness of his that he hated but was a routine that You understood and had followed for many years. If it meant sharing a bed with Gackt just so that the man could get peaceful sleep without his demons eating away at him and keeping him awake then You was always happy to comply.
In fact, Gackt could not remember a single time You had ever said ‘no’ to his request. Even if they’d argued or there were girlfriends or boyfriends on the scene You would be there if asked, lying next to him under the covers, helping to soothe his soul simply by existing.
“Have I done something wrong?” Gackt asked quietly.
“No… no, Gaku,” You answered quickly. “I just think I’d do you more harm than good tonight, that’s all. If I feel better then I’ll stay with you tomorrow.”
“….okay,” Gackt reluctantly agreed as he sat on the bed and watched You leave.
“Are you going to be okay?” Chacha asked.
“Of course,” Gackt answered, a hint of familiar bravado and confidence entering his voice, “I’m not a little boy, I’m not afraid of the dark and I can sleep on my own. I just like You’s company sometimes. That’s all.”
Chacha didn’t entirely believe him but knew Gackt’s pride wouldn’t appreciate being called a liar. “You know where I am if you need me, right?”
“Yes, mother,” Gackt replied cheekily.
“Brat,” Chacha grinned. “Sweet dreams, Gaku.”
Chacha left the suite and walked down the corridor to his own room. He took the keycard from his pocket and noticed a sliver of light underneath the door of You’s hotel room. There was something about You’s behaviour that didn’t quite sit right with him so he walked the few steps across the corridor and knocked on You’s door.
“You-kun… Can I talk to you?”
It took a few moments but eventually Chacha heard You shuffling behind the door. You was already ready for bed, he had changed and removed his contact lenses, but Chacha could tell by the look in his eyes that sleep would not be claiming him anytime soon.
“Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
“What are you talking about Cha?”
Chacha sank into one of the armchairs at the foot of You’s bed and motioned for his fellow guitarist to join him. Instead You perched on the edge of his bed and started picking at the bed covers.
“I’m talking about you not spending the night in Gaku’s room. Since when have you ever been able to deny that man anything?” You didn’t answer. “Gaku was right. What happened on that train wasn’t your fault and he doesn’t blame you for it. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it.”
“Maybe he should blame me…”
“You missed rehearsals, You. We’ve all done it. Even Mr. Perfect in the huge ass suite has missed them in the past. You weren’t to know what would happen.”
“Do you know why I missed that rehearsal? It’s because I’d been out the night before with some friends. They all hated Gaku. They thought he was scary and strange and didn’t know why I was friends with him. They only invited me on the condition that I wouldn’t tell him about it in case he decided to invite himself. We went back to someone’s apartment to continue the party and it was 8:30 before I remembered we had rehearsals.”
“So?” Chacha asked. “Your friends didn’t like him. From what I’ve heard about Gaku back then I don’t blame them. I don’t think he liked himself much either. It’s still not your fault.”
“I left the apartment and caught the train to the rehearsal studio,” You continued. Chacha doubted You had even heard him. “It pulled into the station around 9:05 and I was going to get off but then I saw Gaku getting on. I hadn’t even realised it was his train. I was going to go over and apologise to him but I could see how angry he was so I didn’t speak to him.”
“Ah,” Chacha said “You feel guilty because you didn’t stop it. If the train was that busy you wouldn’t have seen what was happening even if you stood next to him. It’s still not your fault.”
Again, You ignored the comment. “I was still completely drunk and after stumbling through the crowd I found myself stood behind Gaku. He was in his own little world, as always, and I wanted to walk past him but I was trapped in the middle of all of the people. It was so cramped and I kept being pushed against him… my hand kept brushing against his ass.”
Chacha’s eyes widened. “Oh, You… Please tell me you didn’t… That it wasn’t you?”
This time You heard the interruption and looked Chacha in the eyes. “I was drunk, Chacha. I was drunk off my ass because the guy I was in love with didn’t like guys and saw me as nothing more than a friend and a guitarist. And there he was, stood right next to me and allowing me to touch what I knew I couldn’t have. It was stupid of me, I shouldn’t have done it and I hated myself for it but just like Gaku couldn’t stop it from happening I couldn’t stop it either.”
“That’s why you couldn’t stay with him tonight.”
“Yeah… The one time I was able to touch him the way I want to it scarred him so badly he still refuses to ride trains now. That’s not good for the ego.”
“He didn’t know it was you…”
“And if he did he’d punch me in the face,” You said. “I’d deserve it too. I’m disgusted with myself for acting like that, for taking advantage of him and I’ve spent the last eighteen years trying to make it up to him.”
“You…”
You shook his head. “You don’t have to say anything Chacha. I know what I did and I know what I have to do to make it better. Don’t worry, I’ll be back to my normal self tomorrow and if he needs someone to lie next to him tomorrow so he can sleep then I’ll be there like a best friend should be. Just give me tonight to hate myself for what I’ve done to him and normal service shall resume in the morning.”
Chacha stood and walked to the door. He was about to open the door when he turned to You again. “If you need anything….”
“I won’t. Good night Cha.”
Chacha soon found himself back in the corridor. He could see the twin slivers of light poking out from beneath both You and Gackt’s doors and wished there was someway he could make everything better for the two men who had come to mean the world to him.
Instead he settled for going to sleep himself, safe in the knowledge that no matter how bad things seem at night, they are always better in the morning. Or at least, he could always fool himself into thinking that.
~owari