#2 alcohol - nisaki
Title: Tea and Cigarettes
Author: jibunnohana
Theme: #2 - alcohol
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ni~yaxSakito (Nightmare)
Disclaimer: All in my head.
Comments: Uhh...hope there's not too many typos.
Sixteen cigarettes in two short hours, and the clock read barely past noon. Sakito frowned at the one smoldering between his fingers, the vague notion that he was supposedly quitting creeping back into concious thought. The remains of the previous fifteen clumped unattratively in the ash tray before him, right next to the agonizingly silent telephone. Sakito was quite convinced that the unassuming piece of machinery was conspiring against him by turning itself off when it thought he wasn't looking, though he had been obsessively watching it and checking the ringer volume since dragging out of bed that morning.
One would think it would be proper protocol to call the morning after sleeping with one's bandmate, even if it was only to agree never to speak of the incident again. However, the person not calling was Niya, friend, bassist...and notorious player. Come to think of it, Sakito wouldn't be particularly surprised if he didn't call, though that didn't do much for the jittery guitarist's tattered nerves. Not for the first time, he considered phoning Niya instead of the other way round, but concern for any possible relationship prevented him. Not good to appear overly clingy, after all, not to mention that Sakito was generally mortified that Niya was barking mad and not in the least bit interested. On the other hand, Sakito had always been confused as to why everyone largely overlooked that he preferred men. Though he didn't exactly advertise the fact, anyone with half a brain should've been able to pick up on it quickly enough.
Snuffing out the butt of his cigarette, Sakito's thoughts turned to the previous night as he compulsively lit number seventeen. His fuzzy memory served to remind him of the celebratory drinking he and his bandmates had engaged in after the live before stumbling back to their respective hotel rooms. Niya was paired with him for that night, a major planning mistake realized too late after the relative privacy of the room found the two pawing each other's clothes off with drunken fervor. In retrospect it was entirely possible that the bassist had mistaken willowy Sakito for a woman in his inebriated state. Such a thought was more than enough to drain all color from Sakito's cheeks, and he slid down in his chair with a horrified groan, wishing to melt through the cracks in the floor and disappear.
Just as he was musing darkly on the merits of relocating to other countries with no forwarding address, the phone finally decided to ring, startling Sakito out of his reverie. Scrambling to sit up and get to phone before it stopped, he bashed both knees painfully against the underside of the table and successfully missed the ashtray, instead winding up with the still burning cigarette in his lap as Sakito slammed the earpiece frantically against his face. "Hello--ow, shit..."
Niya's confused voice filtered through from the other end, "...What?"
Catching the cigarette before it burned a hole through his pants, Sakito didn't answer immediately, suddenly tongue-tied as to what he should be saying to the one he had been anxiously waiting to hear from. "Er...nothing. I dropped my cigarette," Sakito mumbled, feeling like a royal idiot.
"Oh," the bassist replied and paused before getting straight to the point. "I guess we need to talk, huh?"
Sakito swallowed nervously, voice a tad shakier than he hoped it would be, "...Yeah, probably."
***
"Er...hi." Niya stood at Sakito's door, rubbing the back of his neck and looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere but there, and the guitarist's heart dropped several inches into the vicinity of his stomach as he quickly noticed the other man was not actually looking him in the face, but rather at an unnamed spot next to him. When he had heard the hesitant knock on the door of his apartment, Sakito had essentially sprinted to catch it, tripping over himself like a gangly, love-sick teenager (not that he was really very removed from that state of being). Remains of two more cigarettes he had torn through in the short time it took Niya to arrive burned silently back in the ask tray. Sakito's hands had been shaking with anxiety too much to put them out properly.
Stepping back, he held the door for his guest, and the bassist sidestepped into the room, both of them trying very hard to avoid touching each other, an amazingly complicated and awkward dance when Sakito offered to take the other's coat for him. Finally Niya set the jacket on the couch himself, nearly tripping as he twisted to avoid brushing against Sakito as he moved past. By the time the two reached the kitchen table, they both collasped, exhausted from the emotional effort, into the hard wooden chairs. Neither said anything right away, Niya leaning back with his head turned to look out the window, Sakito leaning forward with his head down staring at the pile of cigarette butts.
It was Niya who broke the silence first, clearing his throat slightly before speaking. "So...how are you?"
With considerable effort, Sakito tore his gaze away from the oh-so-interesting ashtray and braved turning his eyes to the opposite chair, heart sinking all the way down to this toes when he found Niya to still be avoiding eye-contact. I knew it. He hates me. "Oh, I'm...fine," Sakito answered lamely keeping his hands busy by crushing the still smoldering filter a little more violently than intended.
"That's good." Niya glanced down at the skinny hand fidgetting over the ashtray, frowning his disapproval. "Is that from today? I thought you were trying to quit."
Panicking, Sakito snapped his hand back, only to reach for the ashtray again, grabbing it and skittering over to the garbage can. "Uh...no, not from today," he lied. Why exactly he felt the need to lie to Niya about his habit was a total mystery...but likely it had something to do with an unconscious desire to impress the other man. He laughed nervously, "I just haven't cleaned the ashtray in a while. Busy with...the tour and stuff."
"Uh-huh." Obviously Niya didn't think much of that excuse, but didn't press the matter. Secretly, Sakito had hoped he would - at least a pointless and hypocritical arguement would be better than the current stop and go conversation, if one could even call it that. Returning to his chair, Sakito racked his brain for a graceful way to bring up last night, one that wouldn't lead to more of the prevailing awkwardness. The effort was failing miserably, but at least he got Niya to watch him expectantly when he stayed quiet for much longer than should be allowed when conversing with a guest. Time ticked by, seconds stretching into minutes, yet they continued to merely stare at each, a silent battle of wills against who would be the first to broach the taboo subject.
Niya lost. With a heavy sigh he dropped his gaze to the table, dark hair obscuring his expression. "Look, about last night...it was a mistake. I was really hammered and I think you were too. But hey, it can happen to the best of us, right?" Niya paused with a nervous laugh, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling and pushing the hair out of his face. Sakito fancied that the bassist was blushing a little, but he pushed the thought away and dismissed it as a trick of the light. "Besides...you look really...pretty with all that make-up and stuff. Anyone would want a piece of that."
Sakito opened his mouth to say something, anything that could possibly counter what he just heard, but only resulted in looking a bit like a gaping fish. His jaw snapped shut again and his brain took to fantasizing about crawling into holes and dying. Not only was the other not interested, but had subtly implied he was seductive slut and that this was the only reason Niya screwed him. Shallowing a string of obscenities, Sakito choked out in a meek voice, "Sorry..."
"Yeah...uh...me too. Let's not worry about it, okay?" Niya appeared confused with the guitarist's apology, though Sakito wasn't paying attention anymore. "We'll be laughing about this in a few years, I bet."
Almost patting Sakito on the shoulder, but instead drawing his hand back before actually touching him, Niya left soon after, blathering idiotic things like "we're still friends" and "see you at practice". When the door clicked shut Sakito melted off his chair as the tension released all his muscles at once and he lay watching the air molecules for several minutes, both legs hooked over the edge of the chair's seat. Sighing dejectedly, Sakito drew his cigarette pack and lighter out of his sweatshirt pocket, dismayed to find the pack empty. He tossed it to the side and sat up, kicking his legs off the chair and resting his chin on the edge of the table with closed eyes. "I am so stupid."
***
Sakito woke slowly, eyes staying firmly closed though everything felt wrong. Worse than wrong. Ten times worse than wrong. With a pathetic groan he tried to roll over, but stopped mid-roll as twenty thousand elephants stampeded through his head. He lay still and waited for the pain to subside, reasoning out that he must have drunk himself silly the previous night, although he wasn't totally sure since the last thing he remembered clearly was falling off the couch in an overzealous effort to reach a bottle. For all he knew, some large man with a large piece of wood had climbed through the window and bashed him over the head with said stick. Unlikely, Sakito decided, but entirely plausible with the way he currently felt.
It was then that Sakito realized he had no recollection of making it to bed, yet it certainly felt like that's where he was located. He frowned, chancing a quick glance at the room, but quickly snapped his eyes shut again after the sunlight immediately lunged for his eyeballs. Another groan accompanied shifting back to his original position, and Sakito flung an arm over his face as shield against the violent morning light. At least he now knew that he was indeed in bed, though how he ended up there was a total mystery.
The mattress dipped suspiciously next to Sakito's prone form, and he peeked out from under the shadowed safety of his arm. His squinted gaze met with a familiar leg and Sakito felt his heart skip a few beats as he slowly moved the arm, revealing Niya perched on the edge of his bed holding a bottle of painkillers and what looked to be a mug of hot tea. Ah ha...so that would explain why he was in bed on not unconcious on the living room floor.
"How are you feeling?" the bassist asked, waiting for him to struggle upright before handing Sakito the pills and cup, which he took gratefully.
Groaning and weakly swallowing two of the painkillers, "Like I've been run over by a truck. Twice."
Niya chuckled and shifted his position on the bed. "I should think so if you really drank all those bottles on the coffee table. That's pretty impressive. Might even be close to my record."
Grimmacing, Sakito caught a few flashes of the previous night, and made an attempt to tally up how many alcohol units he had consumed to result in this devasting of a hangover. Too many, Sakito decided and automatically felt around for a cigarette pack, remembering with annoyance that he had run out last night. No matter, he was trying to quit anyway. Right then. "Well...thanks for taking care of me," he mumbled to Niya, using the headache as an excuse to close his eyes and avoid looking at the other man, only to open them again and glance over at him in confusion. "Wait, how did you get in here?"
"I came by early this morning and you weren't answering...so I tried the knob and it was unlocked."
Aah, forgot to lock the door in drunken stupor. Good. "Oh," Sakito frowned delicately, not sure why Niya would want to come back so soon after their discussion yesterday. "Did you need something?"
"Well, I wanted to talk to you again. About the other night." Looking somewhat guilty, Niya stared at his lap. "I was thinking about what I said yesterday, and I guess I said some pretty stupid things." Sakito's ears perked hopefully at the start of what sounded like a heartfelt apology, but gave it up again at the next remark. "I didn't realize until after I left that you were actually...uh...into that."
That dark hole was starting to sound mighty inviting again. Sakito started to reply, but Niya cut him off. "And I still say it was the alcohol, but...I lied about the rest. I'm not sorry at all. Actually, it was great. You were great." A pause, thoughtfully sweeping the hair out of his eyes only to have it fall right back to its original position. "I just didn't want to mention it in case you were mad."
Staring blankly in utter confusion, Sakito's muddled brain worked out what he thought the other had confessed, neurons firing in a painfully slow fashion as they fought against the hangover. Hardly daring to breathe, he took a chance on not having his signals completely crossed, "Are you trying to ask me out...?"
Shrugging, scratching the back of his head, and fingering the sheet on the bed was the sequence of nervous actions Niya ran through before finally looking up to meet Sakito's eyes. A sly grin stretched over his face as he responded, "I was kinda hoping we could make out right now...."
The end!
Author: jibunnohana
Theme: #2 - alcohol
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Ni~yaxSakito (Nightmare)
Disclaimer: All in my head.
Comments: Uhh...hope there's not too many typos.
Sixteen cigarettes in two short hours, and the clock read barely past noon. Sakito frowned at the one smoldering between his fingers, the vague notion that he was supposedly quitting creeping back into concious thought. The remains of the previous fifteen clumped unattratively in the ash tray before him, right next to the agonizingly silent telephone. Sakito was quite convinced that the unassuming piece of machinery was conspiring against him by turning itself off when it thought he wasn't looking, though he had been obsessively watching it and checking the ringer volume since dragging out of bed that morning.
One would think it would be proper protocol to call the morning after sleeping with one's bandmate, even if it was only to agree never to speak of the incident again. However, the person not calling was Niya, friend, bassist...and notorious player. Come to think of it, Sakito wouldn't be particularly surprised if he didn't call, though that didn't do much for the jittery guitarist's tattered nerves. Not for the first time, he considered phoning Niya instead of the other way round, but concern for any possible relationship prevented him. Not good to appear overly clingy, after all, not to mention that Sakito was generally mortified that Niya was barking mad and not in the least bit interested. On the other hand, Sakito had always been confused as to why everyone largely overlooked that he preferred men. Though he didn't exactly advertise the fact, anyone with half a brain should've been able to pick up on it quickly enough.
Snuffing out the butt of his cigarette, Sakito's thoughts turned to the previous night as he compulsively lit number seventeen. His fuzzy memory served to remind him of the celebratory drinking he and his bandmates had engaged in after the live before stumbling back to their respective hotel rooms. Niya was paired with him for that night, a major planning mistake realized too late after the relative privacy of the room found the two pawing each other's clothes off with drunken fervor. In retrospect it was entirely possible that the bassist had mistaken willowy Sakito for a woman in his inebriated state. Such a thought was more than enough to drain all color from Sakito's cheeks, and he slid down in his chair with a horrified groan, wishing to melt through the cracks in the floor and disappear.
Just as he was musing darkly on the merits of relocating to other countries with no forwarding address, the phone finally decided to ring, startling Sakito out of his reverie. Scrambling to sit up and get to phone before it stopped, he bashed both knees painfully against the underside of the table and successfully missed the ashtray, instead winding up with the still burning cigarette in his lap as Sakito slammed the earpiece frantically against his face. "Hello--ow, shit..."
Niya's confused voice filtered through from the other end, "...What?"
Catching the cigarette before it burned a hole through his pants, Sakito didn't answer immediately, suddenly tongue-tied as to what he should be saying to the one he had been anxiously waiting to hear from. "Er...nothing. I dropped my cigarette," Sakito mumbled, feeling like a royal idiot.
"Oh," the bassist replied and paused before getting straight to the point. "I guess we need to talk, huh?"
Sakito swallowed nervously, voice a tad shakier than he hoped it would be, "...Yeah, probably."
***
"Er...hi." Niya stood at Sakito's door, rubbing the back of his neck and looking for all the world like he wanted to be anywhere but there, and the guitarist's heart dropped several inches into the vicinity of his stomach as he quickly noticed the other man was not actually looking him in the face, but rather at an unnamed spot next to him. When he had heard the hesitant knock on the door of his apartment, Sakito had essentially sprinted to catch it, tripping over himself like a gangly, love-sick teenager (not that he was really very removed from that state of being). Remains of two more cigarettes he had torn through in the short time it took Niya to arrive burned silently back in the ask tray. Sakito's hands had been shaking with anxiety too much to put them out properly.
Stepping back, he held the door for his guest, and the bassist sidestepped into the room, both of them trying very hard to avoid touching each other, an amazingly complicated and awkward dance when Sakito offered to take the other's coat for him. Finally Niya set the jacket on the couch himself, nearly tripping as he twisted to avoid brushing against Sakito as he moved past. By the time the two reached the kitchen table, they both collasped, exhausted from the emotional effort, into the hard wooden chairs. Neither said anything right away, Niya leaning back with his head turned to look out the window, Sakito leaning forward with his head down staring at the pile of cigarette butts.
It was Niya who broke the silence first, clearing his throat slightly before speaking. "So...how are you?"
With considerable effort, Sakito tore his gaze away from the oh-so-interesting ashtray and braved turning his eyes to the opposite chair, heart sinking all the way down to this toes when he found Niya to still be avoiding eye-contact. I knew it. He hates me. "Oh, I'm...fine," Sakito answered lamely keeping his hands busy by crushing the still smoldering filter a little more violently than intended.
"That's good." Niya glanced down at the skinny hand fidgetting over the ashtray, frowning his disapproval. "Is that from today? I thought you were trying to quit."
Panicking, Sakito snapped his hand back, only to reach for the ashtray again, grabbing it and skittering over to the garbage can. "Uh...no, not from today," he lied. Why exactly he felt the need to lie to Niya about his habit was a total mystery...but likely it had something to do with an unconscious desire to impress the other man. He laughed nervously, "I just haven't cleaned the ashtray in a while. Busy with...the tour and stuff."
"Uh-huh." Obviously Niya didn't think much of that excuse, but didn't press the matter. Secretly, Sakito had hoped he would - at least a pointless and hypocritical arguement would be better than the current stop and go conversation, if one could even call it that. Returning to his chair, Sakito racked his brain for a graceful way to bring up last night, one that wouldn't lead to more of the prevailing awkwardness. The effort was failing miserably, but at least he got Niya to watch him expectantly when he stayed quiet for much longer than should be allowed when conversing with a guest. Time ticked by, seconds stretching into minutes, yet they continued to merely stare at each, a silent battle of wills against who would be the first to broach the taboo subject.
Niya lost. With a heavy sigh he dropped his gaze to the table, dark hair obscuring his expression. "Look, about last night...it was a mistake. I was really hammered and I think you were too. But hey, it can happen to the best of us, right?" Niya paused with a nervous laugh, rolling his eyes toward the ceiling and pushing the hair out of his face. Sakito fancied that the bassist was blushing a little, but he pushed the thought away and dismissed it as a trick of the light. "Besides...you look really...pretty with all that make-up and stuff. Anyone would want a piece of that."
Sakito opened his mouth to say something, anything that could possibly counter what he just heard, but only resulted in looking a bit like a gaping fish. His jaw snapped shut again and his brain took to fantasizing about crawling into holes and dying. Not only was the other not interested, but had subtly implied he was seductive slut and that this was the only reason Niya screwed him. Shallowing a string of obscenities, Sakito choked out in a meek voice, "Sorry..."
"Yeah...uh...me too. Let's not worry about it, okay?" Niya appeared confused with the guitarist's apology, though Sakito wasn't paying attention anymore. "We'll be laughing about this in a few years, I bet."
Almost patting Sakito on the shoulder, but instead drawing his hand back before actually touching him, Niya left soon after, blathering idiotic things like "we're still friends" and "see you at practice". When the door clicked shut Sakito melted off his chair as the tension released all his muscles at once and he lay watching the air molecules for several minutes, both legs hooked over the edge of the chair's seat. Sighing dejectedly, Sakito drew his cigarette pack and lighter out of his sweatshirt pocket, dismayed to find the pack empty. He tossed it to the side and sat up, kicking his legs off the chair and resting his chin on the edge of the table with closed eyes. "I am so stupid."
***
Sakito woke slowly, eyes staying firmly closed though everything felt wrong. Worse than wrong. Ten times worse than wrong. With a pathetic groan he tried to roll over, but stopped mid-roll as twenty thousand elephants stampeded through his head. He lay still and waited for the pain to subside, reasoning out that he must have drunk himself silly the previous night, although he wasn't totally sure since the last thing he remembered clearly was falling off the couch in an overzealous effort to reach a bottle. For all he knew, some large man with a large piece of wood had climbed through the window and bashed him over the head with said stick. Unlikely, Sakito decided, but entirely plausible with the way he currently felt.
It was then that Sakito realized he had no recollection of making it to bed, yet it certainly felt like that's where he was located. He frowned, chancing a quick glance at the room, but quickly snapped his eyes shut again after the sunlight immediately lunged for his eyeballs. Another groan accompanied shifting back to his original position, and Sakito flung an arm over his face as shield against the violent morning light. At least he now knew that he was indeed in bed, though how he ended up there was a total mystery.
The mattress dipped suspiciously next to Sakito's prone form, and he peeked out from under the shadowed safety of his arm. His squinted gaze met with a familiar leg and Sakito felt his heart skip a few beats as he slowly moved the arm, revealing Niya perched on the edge of his bed holding a bottle of painkillers and what looked to be a mug of hot tea. Ah ha...so that would explain why he was in bed on not unconcious on the living room floor.
"How are you feeling?" the bassist asked, waiting for him to struggle upright before handing Sakito the pills and cup, which he took gratefully.
Groaning and weakly swallowing two of the painkillers, "Like I've been run over by a truck. Twice."
Niya chuckled and shifted his position on the bed. "I should think so if you really drank all those bottles on the coffee table. That's pretty impressive. Might even be close to my record."
Grimmacing, Sakito caught a few flashes of the previous night, and made an attempt to tally up how many alcohol units he had consumed to result in this devasting of a hangover. Too many, Sakito decided and automatically felt around for a cigarette pack, remembering with annoyance that he had run out last night. No matter, he was trying to quit anyway. Right then. "Well...thanks for taking care of me," he mumbled to Niya, using the headache as an excuse to close his eyes and avoid looking at the other man, only to open them again and glance over at him in confusion. "Wait, how did you get in here?"
"I came by early this morning and you weren't answering...so I tried the knob and it was unlocked."
Aah, forgot to lock the door in drunken stupor. Good. "Oh," Sakito frowned delicately, not sure why Niya would want to come back so soon after their discussion yesterday. "Did you need something?"
"Well, I wanted to talk to you again. About the other night." Looking somewhat guilty, Niya stared at his lap. "I was thinking about what I said yesterday, and I guess I said some pretty stupid things." Sakito's ears perked hopefully at the start of what sounded like a heartfelt apology, but gave it up again at the next remark. "I didn't realize until after I left that you were actually...uh...into that."
That dark hole was starting to sound mighty inviting again. Sakito started to reply, but Niya cut him off. "And I still say it was the alcohol, but...I lied about the rest. I'm not sorry at all. Actually, it was great. You were great." A pause, thoughtfully sweeping the hair out of his eyes only to have it fall right back to its original position. "I just didn't want to mention it in case you were mad."
Staring blankly in utter confusion, Sakito's muddled brain worked out what he thought the other had confessed, neurons firing in a painfully slow fashion as they fought against the hangover. Hardly daring to breathe, he took a chance on not having his signals completely crossed, "Are you trying to ask me out...?"
Shrugging, scratching the back of his head, and fingering the sheet on the bed was the sequence of nervous actions Niya ran through before finally looking up to meet Sakito's eyes. A sly grin stretched over his face as he responded, "I was kinda hoping we could make out right now...."
The end!