Some Dreams Do Come True - 3/3 - AoiXUruha / UruhaXAoi
Title: Some dreams do come true
Chapter: 3/3
Author:
akichuu
Pairing: AoiXUruha / UruhaXAoi
Rating: PG-15
Genre: Fluff
Warning: Two gorgeous men kissing?
Summary: What did exactly happen during Decomposition Beauty Tour Final ~ Meaningless Art that People Showed ~ live at Yokohama Arena?? (OMG Yay! for still writing the whole title! XDD)
Comments: Aaaa~nd it's the last chapter! Chapter 3! It's fun making these short chaptered fics *sneers at my extremely long chaptered fics* XDDD
Hope you enjoy the whole pack! I have to admit, Uruha makes a fun muse~
3
As I said, the color beige that the room is dominated with does bring out that warm, comfortable feeling in that fascinating way that colors could do, deceiving our human's eyes with their many, many tricks. Once the morning comes to full bloom -- since it's eight o'clock already -- the room seems to emit its own warmth... well, no, of course it doesn't really emit its own warmth, it's just the sensation that I get when I stare at the earthly colors that become even clearer now that it's bright. When my thought suddenly flies all the way back to my own dim, dark-nuanced room in my apartment, I can't help but wonder. Why the hell didn't I pick bright colors for my room? What was I thinking when I decorated the place? Making a mausoleum for myself?? But maybe I was; I thought that if I had made the room look somber enough, I could concentrate better, since my room equals my working space and I was going to spend most of my time in it. When I chose the paint or the fabrics for my room, I set my mind to that goal, wanting to make an isolation for myself and only today I realize that probably I've done it a little too successfully.
Why am I even worrying about my room decoration? As if it matters much right now, while I'm still miles away from home and I won't be there until late tonight, probably. And when I do come home, I'm going to be so freaking tired I won't even care about the colors I have in my bed, all I care about is that there's a bed and I can sleep on it. Period.
So I sit back in this small patch of the carpet, leaning back against the wall as I return to the sight-seeing, venturing in a journey across the room without me moving from where I am. My eyes quickly stop at the window, being the main source of light for the whole room. And for a second I ponder: who turned off the light? I don't remember doing that... My guess is that it was you -- well, who else could it be? Unless Mommy Kai has a spare key to this room and he came in last night to make sure his babies are sound asleep and turn off the lights for us, it couldn't have been anybody else. Oh my God... Just the thought that Kai has a key to my room gives me the creeps! But no, he couldn't have had a spare key, so I figure it was you afterall.
Streaks of light seep through the thin, white fabric of the veils covering the window, beaming gently into the room as some hazy, pale-yellowish fog. The sight makes me think that the sun out there might still be a bit sleepy to start shining his majestic ray all over the world. The streaks of light fall upon the colors in the room and suddenly, I feel like I'm being transported into an artistic movie where the sceneries are all dipped in a sephia color effect.
But I think it won't be too long before the sun is fully awake and makes his way gliding up the skies, slowly but certainly, arousing the inhabitants in this small part of Yokohama and ushering them to yet another day filled with toil. The streets out there sound busier already, although with much credits to the hotel and its awesome construction, the noises are still lame enough to be able to bother me. But then again... we're on the fifth floor. The case might differ if we had been put on the first or second floor instead.
I can't stop myself from lowering my sight onto the bed, displayed being all white, stands out starkly in the middle of the earthly colored room. Well there is a brown coverlet that was once settled upon the white blanket, but right now it's laying on the floor instead, pooling around one footing of the bed. Now don't ask me how it got there... I wouldn't know, I was asleep. But with the coverlet gone, the bed appears like a land made out of clouds... pure, white clouds. There's the white sheet, white pillows, white blanket...
Ah well... it appears to me that it's not all white. There's a pale brown surface poking out from beneath the white blanket, if one dares to follow its curves, they will discover you.
As an odd sensation forming a knot inside my stomach (I believe it's called 'realization'), I slip my lower lip into my mouth, pretty much self-conscious that if I don't do that, I'm going to drool (... again?). My heart is signaling yet again another rush of blood when I gaze upon that creature lying upon the bed, vainly trying to convince myself that it's not an angel that has descended into this humble room; it's you.
And you look... you look...
What's the word for it? Oh my... Is there any word for it at all?
Sometimes I thought the word 'beautiful' was such an understatement, and it is when I'm looking at you. There must be something far more splendid, more magnificent above the word 'beautiful'; but it's probably a level that the creators of words haven't reached just yet. They'll come to it, someday, but in the mean time I guess I'll just have to be content with 'beautiful'. You look beautiful. You ARE beautiful.
That finely carved shoulder, almost pointy at the edge, it leads to a slope, steep enough that I slide and finally land in a mess of supposedly black hair, but just like the whole room, it's tainted in sephia now but not at all in a degenerating way. The straight ends on the side of your head hang down and frame the edge of your cheek... Oh... And have I mentioned what fine cheekbones you have? Unlike the rest of us, you've never needed shading at that part when we came face to face with the make-up artists -- oh, they would just tell you how perfect your contours were; those adoring smiles they had on their faces couldn't have been more obvious. Sometimes I couldn't help but glare at them when they were acting like they were busy puffing on some powder or whatever on your face when I knew all they wanted to do was to smother your pretty face with their intrusive fingers. If I couldn't hold myself I would've already kicked them away from you and squished them under my heels... the bugs that they were...
I'll deal with them later. It doesn't seem to matter much right now anyways... not when you're there, sprawling on the bed, safe and serene in your sleep, and just looking at you right now makes me think everyone could just go fuck off because this moment is mine and only mine.
Oh yeah, I'm the greedy Urupon, incase you haven't noticed.
The color of your skin and your hair are stunningly contrast against each other, yet that is the beautiful contradiction that you are made of. Oh no, I won't dare asking you to get your hair blonde like me. The last time you were blonde (which was years ago when the band had only started), it was simply a fashion-statement going catastrophic, I hate just remembering it. Black, or dark brown, brunette, whatever it is called, it surely fits you better.
And as I gaze lower from your hair, I see those eyelids; they're closed, hiding the dark, sultry gaze you've used to hypnotize a number of people while you were awake. It's rather daunty to have to stare at them like this, as if I'm supposed to be expecting them to snap wide open in any second, and if that happens, I will be caught red handed staring at you. Staring at a sleeping you, actually, and the whole situation is certainly going to make you think I'm a pervert, or God only knows what else you might think of me. Well, after what I had done last night, I sure have made a distinct impression in your brain, haven't I?
But I'm not on the bed, my hands are not on you (although, gods forgive me, I wish they are), so I won't look so guilty in case you do open your eyes and find me out.
I have to cheat and skip your nose (no offense, your nose is fine, really...) so I can get to my favorite part. I guess I'm just eager and being way too obvious about it.
Just beneath your nose are the greatest wonders the gods have created: your lips.
Oh yes, your lips... The shiver running through my spines that I get by the mere sight of them, it's overwhelming. Everyone will agree with me, I know it. I mean, if they would all just look at those lips! Well, looking at your lips is exactly what I'm doing right now, and let me tell you, I'm having this splendid feeling fluttering inside my stomach -- and I thought I had passed that butterfly-in-the-stomach kind of thing when I graduated high school... But it's inevitable, I mean... Your lips, Aoi. They're all the sight I need to transform myself right back into a silly high school boy, whose hormones are still madly raging in his blood. How could any lips look... so red, so full... So sexy. So... utterly, evilly, deviously tantalizing. So dangerous for people like me, especially, because I would get a very unhealthy anxiety attack whenever I saw them, even if it happened to be accidental. Actually, I am getting one right now, I can recognize the first of the symptoms: unusual heartbeats.
And then let's focus on that black ring there near the right corner, shall we? Do you want to know what I think about it? I think you've put it there just to tease people, so that their attention falls on your lips at first glance, rather than any other parts of your face. You know it damn well it's going to make all of them think of the wonderful things you and your lips can do... wonderful and dirty... or more like, wonderfully dirty...
Wooow... Uruha.
I should stop right there now, shouldn't I? Yes, I should. For my cock's sake.
And to think that a mere sight of your lips is doing this to me. It's a helpless case, Aoi, there's no cure... I think I'm dying...
I'm trying, really, I'm struggling to keep those thoughts away as hard as I can. But my mind seems to sneak away from my control and now all I can think of is the both of us, naked and slick skin on skin, rolling around on that white bed, doing things together, things that would never appear in a movie unless the director really meant it to be rated R... in other words: pure porn.
Okay so I'm greedy AND a pervert. What do you want me to do with it? I can't help it, it's my nature.
Nothing can stop these images from popping out one by one in my head: you pinning me down on the bed, trailing your lips on several highly-sensitive parts of me, making me quiver to eternity. Pleasant images, indeed, but it's better to stop daydreaming now, isn't it? It's bad enough for my health to remember what had happened last night.
After you questioned that question (the rather-dramatic "why don't you continue what you've started?" question), I honestly tried answering, or at least respond in a humanly-understandable way... But I ended stuttering some really embarrassing stuffs that couldn't even be considered a decent sentence, something like, "You - what - I - what are you - I didn't..." and so on. It was probably a mixture of some things I was thinking about and they spurted out all at once, resulting only the headers of those sentences crowding up together. I wouldn't expect a monkey to understand me.
You pouted, probably confused seeing my reaction or hearing my answer, saying, "Aww... Uru-chan, don't tell me you forget something like that so easily?" and then you pouted a little further, I believe to emphazise this next comment you made: "I'm hurt."
As a result, I stuttered even worse, "What - I'm sorry - I don't..."
"What's the matter, Uru?" you smirked, "A cat bit your tongue?"
And again, you might want to visualize a grown man (namely Uruha. Yes, that would be me, children...) posing his most idiotic expression here.
"Want me to check out if it's still there?" your smirk grew even wider, "Your tongue, I mean..."
If I had known a way to write a book, I would've written one and matched Ruki's foremost published work, because right then and there my mind was cursing in so many languages -- the fact is, I know only Japanese and a little bit of English and some accents, so it's a miracle, you see...
And yet I hadn't given a proper response, and it was disappointing you, obviously. I could see the fall on your face, as if you had just realized about something and you felt really bad over that realization. And then you backed away, letting go of me, sighing as you dropped down on the bed again. It was disconcerting already when you let go of me, but it was even more heart-wrenching when I saw the look on your face.
"I guess I'm mistaken," you whispered.
"M-mistaken about what...?" I asked.
I think I remember you lifting up your gaze at this point, and when I saw your eyes, a tight contraction took place inside my chest, suffocating me.
"I just thought..." you paused, and then, "No, forget it."
And this was where the battle of wits began. When you reconsider about the whole situation, don't you think we had been so helplessly stupid? But one could never blame the other, since we both had been completely oblivious and silly, and blind, and insensitive.
Conquering my nervousness only the slightest bit, I managed to reply you with: "What is it, Aoi-kun?"
"No, forget it, Uruha. It's stupid, really." It rather hurt when you spoke to me but your eyes were averting at places, like I wasn't there. But it wasn't until later that I knew why.
"What's stupid...? Tell me, Aoi-kun." I thought, if it had made you come and give me a visit at this time of an hour, it mustn't be so stupid at all, whatever you thought was stupid.
You stood up; I couldn't miss the aggravated look on your face, it made me feel so much worse because I had no idea why you would feel upset.
"I said forget it, Uruha." That shocked me, the tone you used, and I'm sure I had gasped. And then you said, "I guess I was silly thinking that it meant something..."
"What meant something?"
God, I would've smacked my stupid-self really hard, right then and there, if I had known the truth...
And my stupidity and ignorance had gotten to your nerves at this point, I suppose, because you snapped in an instant. "The kiss, Uru! It's that kiss up there on stage! I just thought there might be something to it, something deep. Something special. Something more than just a stupid fanservice, but that's just exactly what you meant it, wasn't it? It's just another fanservice to you, when it shocked me and made me think about a whole lot of things... things like, maybe you liked me, maybe I hadn't been the only one feeling anxious and maybe... Ah, man! Fucking stupid me!" you flailed your hands above your head in a desperate gesture, "Just... forget it. I'm leaving..."
One of the gods of wisdom had decided I needed a tick on my brain to get it working, and it felt almost like a truck hitting me and in the end I was splayed flat on the ground, but as it happened, I gained a very clear realization of what was going on exactly.
"The... kiss...?" I repeated carefully, slowly, like I was just learning what the word meant. But you were already swirving on your heels and heading for the door. It was probably this sight of you leaving me that had spurred me to reach out for you, grab your arm, pull you back into the territory that was mine, and cling on to you like it was the best thing to do to stop you from going further away from me. Well, it worked, didn't it? As a result: you stayed.
"What, Uruha?" you asked, still with that annoyed tone in your voice, "Don't fool with me."
"I'm not. I've never intended to fool with you." Hey, you must be surprised, my stuttering-tendencies were suddenly out of the way. I surprised myself, that's for sure. But when I clung on to you like that, holding you so tightly in my arms, thinking about what you had just told me, I had never felt so much more compelled to speak up. "The kiss, it did mean something, something big," I knew my face must've looked bright red, so I hid it on your shoulder. I suspected, since you were wearing a tank top and my cheek were pressed right against the skin on your shoulder, you must've felt just how hot my face was burning...
"It meant a lot, actually," I whispered further, clenching my eyes tightly closed, "It meant I love you, Aoi."
It's 'love' with a big L, Aoi. And I had said it out loud. And there it went, a whole year of my concealed admiration coming into the open, and I knew by saying it, I had risked my life and dignity on the line. It was scary as hell, Aoi, honestly... but when a person gets into that situation, there really is no turning back.
Now, now... What happened next?
Ah, well... You didn't even say a word to reply, and in my personal opinion, it was rather disappointing. I always thought that the L word was really, really sacred, and it shouldn't be spelled out loud for no specific reason, but when it had been spelled, the best thing was to have a reply. But I didn't get a reply -- well, not verbally, no. All you did... All you did was gaze at me with those eyes; the intensity in them pierced into my very soul, strip me off from every disguise, drain my lungs from air and probably knock me out unconscious. The next thing I knew I was lying with my back against the mattress; I felt more than shocked to see you leap and land on top of me.
To tell you the truth, at that very moment, I thought my wildest imagination just came popping out of my brain.
The rather cruel part was, you didn't even let me draw a single breath before you assaulted my mouth with yours, but it was a payback, wasn't it? It's not like I had asked politely before I kissed you, and now you were doing the very same thing. I didn't find myself wanting to complain, though. Not at all.
It didn't take a long span of time before you were licking my lip and I was permitting you in, and with a blast inside my head, my world suddenly became a better place. Actually, it became some sort of a psychedelic-work-of-art projecting inside my eyelids, but it still looked and felt merrier than the world I've seen every day. If I had known, Aoi... God! If I only had known! The way you kissed me, oh... it exceeded every imagination I've ever had about you. To tell you the truth, you were the first person ever who could make my stomach churning in pleasure and my toes curling anxiously, and you did it by the way you pressed your lips against mine, and the way your tongue flicked and licked on mine, and also the way you moaned into my mouth. I felt like I had never been kissed by anyone before, and it might be somewhat true, because as far as I could remember, I had been never kissed in the way you were kissing me.
Suddenly the seventh heaven was just another kiss away.
I had no idea how long it had lasted, the kiss. Well, one thing was for sure: there was nobody there to remind me to check on what time it was you started pressing your lips on mine, and what time it was when I... err... yawned, and what time it was when you pulled back from the kiss to laugh your god-damned ass off. Damn it. I couldn't have embarrassed myself worse than that. Well maybe I could, I just don't have the heart to imagine doing anything more embarrassing in front of you. Seeing you laugh like that, I almost forgot just how much I loved you and I was tempted to stuff a pair of worn socks into your wide-opened mouth and let's see if you would like the taste of them. But then again I couldn't even move to get a pair of socks; I was too busy yawning, complaining stuffs like, "Stop laughing, Aoi! It's not funny!", all the while slapping your arms to make you stop giggling and squirming above me. Fail attempt, it turned out to be, because you laughed even harder.
What am I? Uruha-clown?? Oh, I bet that's what you guys call me behind my back!
But fortunately, before I seriously lost my patience, you stopped laughing and started gazing at me with that 'look' instead. I fell off my guards in an instant, melting under your gaze. Watching how your lips were swollen and red, I blushed, realizing it had been me who had done that to you, and somewhere deep inside, I was really proud of myself. I sighed a long sigh, regretting being sick, tired, and sleepy all at once. You smiled, though, you smiled in that pleasant way, and I had a feeling I needn't to feel so miserable at all.
After another kiss or two... or three... or... dozens more, we found ourselves curling inside the blankets. The last thing I could remember before I drift off was your smile. Oh, and that thing you said, of course, how could I forget that... You said, "Oyasumi, Uru-chan, dream of me..."
"Uru-chan..."
So conceited, as always. But then again, you're right. I did dream of you and it's still vivid enough in my memory. But I'm going to keep the story to myself, I think, I'd rather not risk the world knowing it. Especially not Ruki, oh no... I think I will kill him first before he ever finds out about it...
"Uru..."
What might he think if he finds out? Oh that little prick... He'll be the happiest creature ever walks the face of the earth, and he's going to make my life a living hell, and he's going to succeed, which is certainly going to make him even happier. He's going to mention the very details of my dream to every single person he meets on the streets and everywhere else he goes, and he's going to make up and add a whole lot more stuffs to it, and there goes my cool-image... demolished beyond repair.
"Uruha!"
"Huh??" Okay. I did it again. I just spaced out again now, didn't I??
Shrugging off the thought of Ruki (and his devilish laughter that, in a very petrifying way, is currently chiming inside my head), I look up, finding you...
Oh my holy gods and whatever deities are hovering up there, help me... For whatever's sake, I think I need some CPR now.
You might not intend it to be oh-so-fucking-teasing, but THAT pose, Aoi, is more teasing than any pose you've ever done in front of the flashlights and flickering cameras; it is far more mind-blowing than the back-bending stunt you liked to perform on stage (and I never stop wondering how come you never injured yourself), more distracting than any silly remarks you've enjoyed spilling out to bother us, your band mates. And you are merely lying on your side, one hand is somewhere underneath the pillow and the other is placed on your hipbone; the blanket has been strewn aside beyond my comprehension as to when or how, revealing a clear sight of your flawless curves flashing out into the open. I curse you, Aoi, for showing up in front of my door last night wearing only a thin, white tank top and a pair of khaki pajama pants that clings way-too-low on your hips...
Okay, yes, I admit it, I drool a bit.
With that hand that was previously laying on your hipbone, you pat repeatedly on the space available in front of you on the bed. It's a cue for me to come closer, I suppose, and I get up from my deplorable sitting state and walk over to the bed. I have a feeling that, in future events, I'm going to learn a whole set of cues from you, Aoi. I think you're the type of person who likes to signal with movements than to ask verbally.
"So?" you ask suddenly, and I frown in confusion. You giggle before you continue, "Did you dream of me?"
I know I blush. It's a repressive feeling to know that I'll never be able to lie to you anymore now... "Yes," I answer honestly.
"Care to tell me about it?"
I crawl non-so-elegantly onto the bed and sit awkwardly in front of you, biting my lip furiously while I am trying to decide whether or not I should tell you. Oh gods, I shouldn't. But how can I say no to you? How can anyone say no to you? But if I do tell you, what guarantees do I have that you won't tell the others? I'm going to be dead meat, chopped-Uruha stewed in curry flavor, if ever they all find out. Oh no, gods, no... I really can't tell you...
"You know what? Save it for later," you giggle again, "I'm not really in the mood for story-telling..."
And what it is that you're in the mood for, I figure out only in a blink of an eye, as you grab my face with both hands, pulling me down and... well. There's probably a more suitable term for this thing you're doing, but to me it's like you are eating me alive -- not exactly in a gruesome way like zombies did to living people in horror movies. Absolutely the opposite. Although, to my realization, there'll be the same ending: me, dead. The big difference is, with this way you're killing me, I will surely die an orgasmic death and there really is no regret in that.
There will be one day when I'm going to have to spill it out in front of you, the story of my dream, but for now, let me just enjoy my tiny bits of freedom, okay? Let me NOT think about the consequences if the world knows... if they all know... I had been Cinderella last night. Oh gods... Yes, I was. I dreamed that I was Cinderella, and you were my Prince Charming. This is already laughable, I know, but wait until you hear the best part. I know you've heard of the real story (who hasn't?); there is a part in it where the Prince Charming was kneeling in front of Cinderella, slipping a glass shoe onto her foot. Well in my dream, you were kneeling in front of me, and I was like blushing and nervous and everything. But you weren't slipping a glass shoe onto my foot, you were... oh gods... you were re-strapping the garter on one of my thighs instead. I guess I messed up the whole tale; who would've guessed Cinderella would ever be so much as a man in all-purple costume stage, complete with the thigh-flashing, gartered pants?
But if you think about the ending of the story, isn't it a good dream afterall? I mean, Cinderella did get to spend the rest of her life with her beloved one, Prince Charming. And if my dream turns out to be a sign or prophecy or whatever of my future, of the possibility that I can spend the rest of my life with you, together we live happily ever after, and make love all day and night in the in-between span of time... Hell. I think I like being Cinderella.
~
* notes:
1) Yeah, it's the end~ And after this you can go and read Black and White... if you haven't already. XD
2) THE KISS!! as you all have asked for it (please credit
keimaxwell for this... I quote what Kei told me exactly):
"The way I remember it, Uru and Aoi both didn't have their guitars around their necks, thus it was a pause where they all hugged each other and stuff. At least, at first it looked as though Uru was going to Aoi, his arms first up in the air like he was stretching, like ready to drop them for a hug, Aoi must have thought the same, just walking up to him slowly. But then Uru just grabbed his face and kissed him. A short kiss, yes, but not short enough for a little peck!"
... And that's how the (real) story goes *grins*. Happy? Happy? Well~ I am~ *dances*
3) OMFG I love the phrase 'orgasmic death'...
chapter 2
chapter 1
fanfic list
Chapter: 3/3
Author:
akichuu
Pairing: AoiXUruha / UruhaXAoi
Rating: PG-15
Genre: Fluff
Warning: Two gorgeous men kissing?
Summary: What did exactly happen during Decomposition Beauty Tour Final ~ Meaningless Art that People Showed ~ live at Yokohama Arena?? (OMG Yay! for still writing the whole title! XDD)
Comments: Aaaa~nd it's the last chapter! Chapter 3! It's fun making these short chaptered fics *sneers at my extremely long chaptered fics* XDDD
Hope you enjoy the whole pack! I have to admit, Uruha makes a fun muse~
3
As I said, the color beige that the room is dominated with does bring out that warm, comfortable feeling in that fascinating way that colors could do, deceiving our human's eyes with their many, many tricks. Once the morning comes to full bloom -- since it's eight o'clock already -- the room seems to emit its own warmth... well, no, of course it doesn't really emit its own warmth, it's just the sensation that I get when I stare at the earthly colors that become even clearer now that it's bright. When my thought suddenly flies all the way back to my own dim, dark-nuanced room in my apartment, I can't help but wonder. Why the hell didn't I pick bright colors for my room? What was I thinking when I decorated the place? Making a mausoleum for myself?? But maybe I was; I thought that if I had made the room look somber enough, I could concentrate better, since my room equals my working space and I was going to spend most of my time in it. When I chose the paint or the fabrics for my room, I set my mind to that goal, wanting to make an isolation for myself and only today I realize that probably I've done it a little too successfully.
Why am I even worrying about my room decoration? As if it matters much right now, while I'm still miles away from home and I won't be there until late tonight, probably. And when I do come home, I'm going to be so freaking tired I won't even care about the colors I have in my bed, all I care about is that there's a bed and I can sleep on it. Period.
So I sit back in this small patch of the carpet, leaning back against the wall as I return to the sight-seeing, venturing in a journey across the room without me moving from where I am. My eyes quickly stop at the window, being the main source of light for the whole room. And for a second I ponder: who turned off the light? I don't remember doing that... My guess is that it was you -- well, who else could it be? Unless Mommy Kai has a spare key to this room and he came in last night to make sure his babies are sound asleep and turn off the lights for us, it couldn't have been anybody else. Oh my God... Just the thought that Kai has a key to my room gives me the creeps! But no, he couldn't have had a spare key, so I figure it was you afterall.
Streaks of light seep through the thin, white fabric of the veils covering the window, beaming gently into the room as some hazy, pale-yellowish fog. The sight makes me think that the sun out there might still be a bit sleepy to start shining his majestic ray all over the world. The streaks of light fall upon the colors in the room and suddenly, I feel like I'm being transported into an artistic movie where the sceneries are all dipped in a sephia color effect.
But I think it won't be too long before the sun is fully awake and makes his way gliding up the skies, slowly but certainly, arousing the inhabitants in this small part of Yokohama and ushering them to yet another day filled with toil. The streets out there sound busier already, although with much credits to the hotel and its awesome construction, the noises are still lame enough to be able to bother me. But then again... we're on the fifth floor. The case might differ if we had been put on the first or second floor instead.
I can't stop myself from lowering my sight onto the bed, displayed being all white, stands out starkly in the middle of the earthly colored room. Well there is a brown coverlet that was once settled upon the white blanket, but right now it's laying on the floor instead, pooling around one footing of the bed. Now don't ask me how it got there... I wouldn't know, I was asleep. But with the coverlet gone, the bed appears like a land made out of clouds... pure, white clouds. There's the white sheet, white pillows, white blanket...
Ah well... it appears to me that it's not all white. There's a pale brown surface poking out from beneath the white blanket, if one dares to follow its curves, they will discover you.
As an odd sensation forming a knot inside my stomach (I believe it's called 'realization'), I slip my lower lip into my mouth, pretty much self-conscious that if I don't do that, I'm going to drool (... again?). My heart is signaling yet again another rush of blood when I gaze upon that creature lying upon the bed, vainly trying to convince myself that it's not an angel that has descended into this humble room; it's you.
And you look... you look...
What's the word for it? Oh my... Is there any word for it at all?
Sometimes I thought the word 'beautiful' was such an understatement, and it is when I'm looking at you. There must be something far more splendid, more magnificent above the word 'beautiful'; but it's probably a level that the creators of words haven't reached just yet. They'll come to it, someday, but in the mean time I guess I'll just have to be content with 'beautiful'. You look beautiful. You ARE beautiful.
That finely carved shoulder, almost pointy at the edge, it leads to a slope, steep enough that I slide and finally land in a mess of supposedly black hair, but just like the whole room, it's tainted in sephia now but not at all in a degenerating way. The straight ends on the side of your head hang down and frame the edge of your cheek... Oh... And have I mentioned what fine cheekbones you have? Unlike the rest of us, you've never needed shading at that part when we came face to face with the make-up artists -- oh, they would just tell you how perfect your contours were; those adoring smiles they had on their faces couldn't have been more obvious. Sometimes I couldn't help but glare at them when they were acting like they were busy puffing on some powder or whatever on your face when I knew all they wanted to do was to smother your pretty face with their intrusive fingers. If I couldn't hold myself I would've already kicked them away from you and squished them under my heels... the bugs that they were...
I'll deal with them later. It doesn't seem to matter much right now anyways... not when you're there, sprawling on the bed, safe and serene in your sleep, and just looking at you right now makes me think everyone could just go fuck off because this moment is mine and only mine.
Oh yeah, I'm the greedy Urupon, incase you haven't noticed.
The color of your skin and your hair are stunningly contrast against each other, yet that is the beautiful contradiction that you are made of. Oh no, I won't dare asking you to get your hair blonde like me. The last time you were blonde (which was years ago when the band had only started), it was simply a fashion-statement going catastrophic, I hate just remembering it. Black, or dark brown, brunette, whatever it is called, it surely fits you better.
And as I gaze lower from your hair, I see those eyelids; they're closed, hiding the dark, sultry gaze you've used to hypnotize a number of people while you were awake. It's rather daunty to have to stare at them like this, as if I'm supposed to be expecting them to snap wide open in any second, and if that happens, I will be caught red handed staring at you. Staring at a sleeping you, actually, and the whole situation is certainly going to make you think I'm a pervert, or God only knows what else you might think of me. Well, after what I had done last night, I sure have made a distinct impression in your brain, haven't I?
But I'm not on the bed, my hands are not on you (although, gods forgive me, I wish they are), so I won't look so guilty in case you do open your eyes and find me out.
I have to cheat and skip your nose (no offense, your nose is fine, really...) so I can get to my favorite part. I guess I'm just eager and being way too obvious about it.
Just beneath your nose are the greatest wonders the gods have created: your lips.
Oh yes, your lips... The shiver running through my spines that I get by the mere sight of them, it's overwhelming. Everyone will agree with me, I know it. I mean, if they would all just look at those lips! Well, looking at your lips is exactly what I'm doing right now, and let me tell you, I'm having this splendid feeling fluttering inside my stomach -- and I thought I had passed that butterfly-in-the-stomach kind of thing when I graduated high school... But it's inevitable, I mean... Your lips, Aoi. They're all the sight I need to transform myself right back into a silly high school boy, whose hormones are still madly raging in his blood. How could any lips look... so red, so full... So sexy. So... utterly, evilly, deviously tantalizing. So dangerous for people like me, especially, because I would get a very unhealthy anxiety attack whenever I saw them, even if it happened to be accidental. Actually, I am getting one right now, I can recognize the first of the symptoms: unusual heartbeats.
And then let's focus on that black ring there near the right corner, shall we? Do you want to know what I think about it? I think you've put it there just to tease people, so that their attention falls on your lips at first glance, rather than any other parts of your face. You know it damn well it's going to make all of them think of the wonderful things you and your lips can do... wonderful and dirty... or more like, wonderfully dirty...
Wooow... Uruha.
I should stop right there now, shouldn't I? Yes, I should. For my cock's sake.
And to think that a mere sight of your lips is doing this to me. It's a helpless case, Aoi, there's no cure... I think I'm dying...
I'm trying, really, I'm struggling to keep those thoughts away as hard as I can. But my mind seems to sneak away from my control and now all I can think of is the both of us, naked and slick skin on skin, rolling around on that white bed, doing things together, things that would never appear in a movie unless the director really meant it to be rated R... in other words: pure porn.
Okay so I'm greedy AND a pervert. What do you want me to do with it? I can't help it, it's my nature.
Nothing can stop these images from popping out one by one in my head: you pinning me down on the bed, trailing your lips on several highly-sensitive parts of me, making me quiver to eternity. Pleasant images, indeed, but it's better to stop daydreaming now, isn't it? It's bad enough for my health to remember what had happened last night.
After you questioned that question (the rather-dramatic "why don't you continue what you've started?" question), I honestly tried answering, or at least respond in a humanly-understandable way... But I ended stuttering some really embarrassing stuffs that couldn't even be considered a decent sentence, something like, "You - what - I - what are you - I didn't..." and so on. It was probably a mixture of some things I was thinking about and they spurted out all at once, resulting only the headers of those sentences crowding up together. I wouldn't expect a monkey to understand me.
You pouted, probably confused seeing my reaction or hearing my answer, saying, "Aww... Uru-chan, don't tell me you forget something like that so easily?" and then you pouted a little further, I believe to emphazise this next comment you made: "I'm hurt."
As a result, I stuttered even worse, "What - I'm sorry - I don't..."
"What's the matter, Uru?" you smirked, "A cat bit your tongue?"
And again, you might want to visualize a grown man (namely Uruha. Yes, that would be me, children...) posing his most idiotic expression here.
"Want me to check out if it's still there?" your smirk grew even wider, "Your tongue, I mean..."
If I had known a way to write a book, I would've written one and matched Ruki's foremost published work, because right then and there my mind was cursing in so many languages -- the fact is, I know only Japanese and a little bit of English and some accents, so it's a miracle, you see...
And yet I hadn't given a proper response, and it was disappointing you, obviously. I could see the fall on your face, as if you had just realized about something and you felt really bad over that realization. And then you backed away, letting go of me, sighing as you dropped down on the bed again. It was disconcerting already when you let go of me, but it was even more heart-wrenching when I saw the look on your face.
"I guess I'm mistaken," you whispered.
"M-mistaken about what...?" I asked.
I think I remember you lifting up your gaze at this point, and when I saw your eyes, a tight contraction took place inside my chest, suffocating me.
"I just thought..." you paused, and then, "No, forget it."
And this was where the battle of wits began. When you reconsider about the whole situation, don't you think we had been so helplessly stupid? But one could never blame the other, since we both had been completely oblivious and silly, and blind, and insensitive.
Conquering my nervousness only the slightest bit, I managed to reply you with: "What is it, Aoi-kun?"
"No, forget it, Uruha. It's stupid, really." It rather hurt when you spoke to me but your eyes were averting at places, like I wasn't there. But it wasn't until later that I knew why.
"What's stupid...? Tell me, Aoi-kun." I thought, if it had made you come and give me a visit at this time of an hour, it mustn't be so stupid at all, whatever you thought was stupid.
You stood up; I couldn't miss the aggravated look on your face, it made me feel so much worse because I had no idea why you would feel upset.
"I said forget it, Uruha." That shocked me, the tone you used, and I'm sure I had gasped. And then you said, "I guess I was silly thinking that it meant something..."
"What meant something?"
God, I would've smacked my stupid-self really hard, right then and there, if I had known the truth...
And my stupidity and ignorance had gotten to your nerves at this point, I suppose, because you snapped in an instant. "The kiss, Uru! It's that kiss up there on stage! I just thought there might be something to it, something deep. Something special. Something more than just a stupid fanservice, but that's just exactly what you meant it, wasn't it? It's just another fanservice to you, when it shocked me and made me think about a whole lot of things... things like, maybe you liked me, maybe I hadn't been the only one feeling anxious and maybe... Ah, man! Fucking stupid me!" you flailed your hands above your head in a desperate gesture, "Just... forget it. I'm leaving..."
One of the gods of wisdom had decided I needed a tick on my brain to get it working, and it felt almost like a truck hitting me and in the end I was splayed flat on the ground, but as it happened, I gained a very clear realization of what was going on exactly.
"The... kiss...?" I repeated carefully, slowly, like I was just learning what the word meant. But you were already swirving on your heels and heading for the door. It was probably this sight of you leaving me that had spurred me to reach out for you, grab your arm, pull you back into the territory that was mine, and cling on to you like it was the best thing to do to stop you from going further away from me. Well, it worked, didn't it? As a result: you stayed.
"What, Uruha?" you asked, still with that annoyed tone in your voice, "Don't fool with me."
"I'm not. I've never intended to fool with you." Hey, you must be surprised, my stuttering-tendencies were suddenly out of the way. I surprised myself, that's for sure. But when I clung on to you like that, holding you so tightly in my arms, thinking about what you had just told me, I had never felt so much more compelled to speak up. "The kiss, it did mean something, something big," I knew my face must've looked bright red, so I hid it on your shoulder. I suspected, since you were wearing a tank top and my cheek were pressed right against the skin on your shoulder, you must've felt just how hot my face was burning...
"It meant a lot, actually," I whispered further, clenching my eyes tightly closed, "It meant I love you, Aoi."
It's 'love' with a big L, Aoi. And I had said it out loud. And there it went, a whole year of my concealed admiration coming into the open, and I knew by saying it, I had risked my life and dignity on the line. It was scary as hell, Aoi, honestly... but when a person gets into that situation, there really is no turning back.
Now, now... What happened next?
Ah, well... You didn't even say a word to reply, and in my personal opinion, it was rather disappointing. I always thought that the L word was really, really sacred, and it shouldn't be spelled out loud for no specific reason, but when it had been spelled, the best thing was to have a reply. But I didn't get a reply -- well, not verbally, no. All you did... All you did was gaze at me with those eyes; the intensity in them pierced into my very soul, strip me off from every disguise, drain my lungs from air and probably knock me out unconscious. The next thing I knew I was lying with my back against the mattress; I felt more than shocked to see you leap and land on top of me.
To tell you the truth, at that very moment, I thought my wildest imagination just came popping out of my brain.
The rather cruel part was, you didn't even let me draw a single breath before you assaulted my mouth with yours, but it was a payback, wasn't it? It's not like I had asked politely before I kissed you, and now you were doing the very same thing. I didn't find myself wanting to complain, though. Not at all.
It didn't take a long span of time before you were licking my lip and I was permitting you in, and with a blast inside my head, my world suddenly became a better place. Actually, it became some sort of a psychedelic-work-of-art projecting inside my eyelids, but it still looked and felt merrier than the world I've seen every day. If I had known, Aoi... God! If I only had known! The way you kissed me, oh... it exceeded every imagination I've ever had about you. To tell you the truth, you were the first person ever who could make my stomach churning in pleasure and my toes curling anxiously, and you did it by the way you pressed your lips against mine, and the way your tongue flicked and licked on mine, and also the way you moaned into my mouth. I felt like I had never been kissed by anyone before, and it might be somewhat true, because as far as I could remember, I had been never kissed in the way you were kissing me.
Suddenly the seventh heaven was just another kiss away.
I had no idea how long it had lasted, the kiss. Well, one thing was for sure: there was nobody there to remind me to check on what time it was you started pressing your lips on mine, and what time it was when I... err... yawned, and what time it was when you pulled back from the kiss to laugh your god-damned ass off. Damn it. I couldn't have embarrassed myself worse than that. Well maybe I could, I just don't have the heart to imagine doing anything more embarrassing in front of you. Seeing you laugh like that, I almost forgot just how much I loved you and I was tempted to stuff a pair of worn socks into your wide-opened mouth and let's see if you would like the taste of them. But then again I couldn't even move to get a pair of socks; I was too busy yawning, complaining stuffs like, "Stop laughing, Aoi! It's not funny!", all the while slapping your arms to make you stop giggling and squirming above me. Fail attempt, it turned out to be, because you laughed even harder.
What am I? Uruha-clown?? Oh, I bet that's what you guys call me behind my back!
But fortunately, before I seriously lost my patience, you stopped laughing and started gazing at me with that 'look' instead. I fell off my guards in an instant, melting under your gaze. Watching how your lips were swollen and red, I blushed, realizing it had been me who had done that to you, and somewhere deep inside, I was really proud of myself. I sighed a long sigh, regretting being sick, tired, and sleepy all at once. You smiled, though, you smiled in that pleasant way, and I had a feeling I needn't to feel so miserable at all.
After another kiss or two... or three... or... dozens more, we found ourselves curling inside the blankets. The last thing I could remember before I drift off was your smile. Oh, and that thing you said, of course, how could I forget that... You said, "Oyasumi, Uru-chan, dream of me..."
"Uru-chan..."
So conceited, as always. But then again, you're right. I did dream of you and it's still vivid enough in my memory. But I'm going to keep the story to myself, I think, I'd rather not risk the world knowing it. Especially not Ruki, oh no... I think I will kill him first before he ever finds out about it...
"Uru..."
What might he think if he finds out? Oh that little prick... He'll be the happiest creature ever walks the face of the earth, and he's going to make my life a living hell, and he's going to succeed, which is certainly going to make him even happier. He's going to mention the very details of my dream to every single person he meets on the streets and everywhere else he goes, and he's going to make up and add a whole lot more stuffs to it, and there goes my cool-image... demolished beyond repair.
"Uruha!"
"Huh??" Okay. I did it again. I just spaced out again now, didn't I??
Shrugging off the thought of Ruki (and his devilish laughter that, in a very petrifying way, is currently chiming inside my head), I look up, finding you...
Oh my holy gods and whatever deities are hovering up there, help me... For whatever's sake, I think I need some CPR now.
You might not intend it to be oh-so-fucking-teasing, but THAT pose, Aoi, is more teasing than any pose you've ever done in front of the flashlights and flickering cameras; it is far more mind-blowing than the back-bending stunt you liked to perform on stage (and I never stop wondering how come you never injured yourself), more distracting than any silly remarks you've enjoyed spilling out to bother us, your band mates. And you are merely lying on your side, one hand is somewhere underneath the pillow and the other is placed on your hipbone; the blanket has been strewn aside beyond my comprehension as to when or how, revealing a clear sight of your flawless curves flashing out into the open. I curse you, Aoi, for showing up in front of my door last night wearing only a thin, white tank top and a pair of khaki pajama pants that clings way-too-low on your hips...
Okay, yes, I admit it, I drool a bit.
With that hand that was previously laying on your hipbone, you pat repeatedly on the space available in front of you on the bed. It's a cue for me to come closer, I suppose, and I get up from my deplorable sitting state and walk over to the bed. I have a feeling that, in future events, I'm going to learn a whole set of cues from you, Aoi. I think you're the type of person who likes to signal with movements than to ask verbally.
"So?" you ask suddenly, and I frown in confusion. You giggle before you continue, "Did you dream of me?"
I know I blush. It's a repressive feeling to know that I'll never be able to lie to you anymore now... "Yes," I answer honestly.
"Care to tell me about it?"
I crawl non-so-elegantly onto the bed and sit awkwardly in front of you, biting my lip furiously while I am trying to decide whether or not I should tell you. Oh gods, I shouldn't. But how can I say no to you? How can anyone say no to you? But if I do tell you, what guarantees do I have that you won't tell the others? I'm going to be dead meat, chopped-Uruha stewed in curry flavor, if ever they all find out. Oh no, gods, no... I really can't tell you...
"You know what? Save it for later," you giggle again, "I'm not really in the mood for story-telling..."
And what it is that you're in the mood for, I figure out only in a blink of an eye, as you grab my face with both hands, pulling me down and... well. There's probably a more suitable term for this thing you're doing, but to me it's like you are eating me alive -- not exactly in a gruesome way like zombies did to living people in horror movies. Absolutely the opposite. Although, to my realization, there'll be the same ending: me, dead. The big difference is, with this way you're killing me, I will surely die an orgasmic death and there really is no regret in that.
There will be one day when I'm going to have to spill it out in front of you, the story of my dream, but for now, let me just enjoy my tiny bits of freedom, okay? Let me NOT think about the consequences if the world knows... if they all know... I had been Cinderella last night. Oh gods... Yes, I was. I dreamed that I was Cinderella, and you were my Prince Charming. This is already laughable, I know, but wait until you hear the best part. I know you've heard of the real story (who hasn't?); there is a part in it where the Prince Charming was kneeling in front of Cinderella, slipping a glass shoe onto her foot. Well in my dream, you were kneeling in front of me, and I was like blushing and nervous and everything. But you weren't slipping a glass shoe onto my foot, you were... oh gods... you were re-strapping the garter on one of my thighs instead. I guess I messed up the whole tale; who would've guessed Cinderella would ever be so much as a man in all-purple costume stage, complete with the thigh-flashing, gartered pants?
But if you think about the ending of the story, isn't it a good dream afterall? I mean, Cinderella did get to spend the rest of her life with her beloved one, Prince Charming. And if my dream turns out to be a sign or prophecy or whatever of my future, of the possibility that I can spend the rest of my life with you, together we live happily ever after, and make love all day and night in the in-between span of time... Hell. I think I like being Cinderella.
~
* notes:
1) Yeah, it's the end~ And after this you can go and read Black and White... if you haven't already. XD
2) THE KISS!! as you all have asked for it (please credit
keimaxwell for this... I quote what Kei told me exactly):
"The way I remember it, Uru and Aoi both didn't have their guitars around their necks, thus it was a pause where they all hugged each other and stuff. At least, at first it looked as though Uru was going to Aoi, his arms first up in the air like he was stretching, like ready to drop them for a hug, Aoi must have thought the same, just walking up to him slowly. But then Uru just grabbed his face and kissed him. A short kiss, yes, but not short enough for a little peck!"
... And that's how the (real) story goes *grins*. Happy? Happy? Well~ I am~ *dances*
3) OMFG I love the phrase 'orgasmic death'...
chapter 2
chapter 1
fanfic list