#16 Theme 33: New Day's Dawn - Hyde; Tora/Hiroto
Title: A Morning Off
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 033 New Day’s Dawn (Hyde)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: fluff, eww, corn
Comments: No idea why this got written -_-
A Morning Off
He spent the better part of an hour staring at the white walls of his shared room; simple and bare save for the streetlamp glow that somehow managed to permeate the dark night. Occasionally, passing headlights flittered through the shadowed blocks of open blinds, painting the wall a screened golden-black-gold as cars passed.
The luminescent green of the hotel’s digital clock flicked to a burning three before Hiroto finally gave up and eased out of bed; thick covers falling to the ground. Shuffling quietly past Saga, he lowered himself atop Tora’s bed and crawled up his sleeping figure.
“Tora?”
Hiroto nuzzled the other’s neck as he whispered, draping himself across Tora’s warm chest and belly, inhaling his spicy scent as the mattress dipped below them. Groaning quietly, hands sifted through sheets and covers to bury themselves in messy hair, silencing any of Hiroto’s further entreaties with their comfortable scratch and rub.
In the next bed over, Saga snuffled in his sleep, flipping abruptly for his snores to somehow heighten in volume and fill their three-bed suite.
Tora continued to drowsily paw at Hiroto’s head until sleep took over and, to the other’s dismay, his hand plopped back down into the cocoon of blankets. It had almost been enough to lure Hiroto into a sleepy state. Frowning at his inability, Hiroto rested a cheek against the up-down-up-down of Tora’s bare skin as he watched the other man do what he couldn’t seem to manage.
He didn’t understand how Tora could spend the entire day dozing on vacant couches, monopolizing his lap, drowsing off during meetings and still be able to sleep at night. Letting out a long-suffering sigh he gave Tora’s chest a brisk rub with his nose, snorting against skin when Tora barely even sniff in response.
“Tora?” he whispered again.
Steady breathing was his only reply, speeding cars a background hum as Hiroto mischievously dropped his head down again.
This time there were no sleepy caresses of chestnut hair; instead a disgruntled hand came up to push Hiroto’s face off into the sheets, wet lips leaving a large pool of drool down the line of Tora’s chest. Mumbling nonsensed profanities, Tora cracked an eyelid long enough to see Hiroto’s pleading expression somewhere near his bellybutton.
And with a sigh, he reached down and hauled the smaller man up by the armpits, pulling him high enough so their ears brushed on the same pillow and Hiroto’s care-worn tee could soak up the spittle between them.
“Tora,” Hiroto sing-songed quietly, shifting in the other’s loose hold. He was met with a disheartening slumbered silence. “I can’t sleep again,” he breathed, defeat lacing an already subdued voice. His muscles itched with restless energy, yet half-lidded eyes drooped with fatigue - he couldn’t play teddy bear when he wanted to jump and pass out at the same time.
Sliding from his perch atop Tora’s hips, Hiroto flopped bonelessly to the right, silently willing his body to be normal as he burrowed beneath the pillows. He could still hear the ever fruitless pound, pound, pound of his heart beating away tranquil sleep in rapid succession. Rolling to his side, Tora watched Hiroto angrily kick the sheets off. The younger made to stand, but stopped when Tora’s hand curled around his wrist.
“Come here,” he beckoned hoarsely, sitting up and tugging Hiroto closer.
Looking at Tora’s open arms he wondered how the other could still be so kind and understanding after all the tired nights he’d spent listening to Hiroto make up stories about bubble seas and sand people when both of them were supposed to be sleeping. It got on Hiroto’s nerves, that was for sure. Regardless, the guilt of keeping Tora awake wasn’t enough to silence his need for comfort. These nights were the loneliest he’d ever known, when the world seemed to turn its back and close it eyes. Crawling over, Hiroto settled gingerly on his lap and let Tora’s arms wrap around him.
“I can’t sleep,” he repeated forlornly. He rested his chin on the other’s shoulder, trying to stop the frustrated tears from falling. It was happening more now; sleepless nights turned morning with him wide awake watching the same sun rise and fall.
Despite how tired he was, Tora could never quite fight back the worry these nights entailed. The next day always found Hiroto nodding off at the wheel, staring blankly at his guitar, sometimes lying down dizzy with exhaustion; it didn’t help he forgot to eat when he was tired.
Rubbing Hiroto’s back, Tora turned to eye the hotel clock.
3:28.
Coaxing the other’s head back, he tenderly brushed chapped lips against cool forehead and put on a soothing grin.
“How about we get out of here?”
---
It was silly having to travel so far and cram into pricey hotels just for recording, but at least the area was scenic - expensive, but scenic. Stopping the cabbie, Tora popped the door open and paid their toll.
“This way,” he pointed. Their road was dark and deserted save the lonely streetlight shine every few yards and their guitars shifted up and down, down and up as sandals gently flip-flopped and flop-flipped; tapping and kicking pebbles until toes turned gray with dirt. He led them to the brightest lamp post then, where sand and gravel melded beneath a sign and open fence.
The stifling heat soon gave way to cool growling spray, crashing loud ripples the closer they got. Foam fizzed and gurgled the darkness, tugging up golden sand for abandoned shell and onyx.
Stopping a good distance from the tide, Hiroto and Tora settled amongst the rubble in a small concaved clearing, burrowing bare toes into dipped sand and breathing salty wave-flown winds.
At his first touch the sky thrummed deep violet, fanning out with fingers that strummed melody and life into Tora’s guitar. The shattering of waves vibrated beneath fingertips, sucking electric air to fold between skin and wood, to release sound and nature.
With his face towards open waters, Hiroto imagined each strained note and haunting descent, the fading moon burning his eyelids. Turning, he found his vision blinded by the copied dots of his eyes hiding Tora with their lingering light. Hands moved dimly across the strings of a well-used guitar, a faceless musician of infinite sound, life channeled and churning to one. And then Hiroto blinked. And then Tora’s silhouette was once again whole and Hiroto could puck his own harmony.
Until the first slivers of sun rose, crystal grey and marigold copper, they played. Until the sea shown beryl white and cyan kelly, their fingers danced an array. And when the first gull called, Hiroto set his guitar aside and stood to slip off his shirt and stretch fingers towards the surf.
Tora followed with a knowing smile.
The sand was a powdered elixir.
So often they collared themselves to the studio, submerged in underground lives and walked hallways of constructed concrete and night. Too often they were reminded to stay in and avoid the sun - particularly Hiroto and his effortless tans. They forgot the earth and sky they thrived on, completely lost themselves in the insides of man.
Hiroto turned to grin his way, sunrise bleaching the side of his face white while wind blew hair every which way. Two steps and Tora was knee deep in water, one more and he was running knuckles up soft belly, spreading digits against taut muscle. Shuddering as they drifted lower, Hiroto grabbed the hand and pulled him in for a crooked kiss, smirking against the small spike before yanking Tora playfully into the water.
It was those days Hiroto needed peace most. When it didn’t come he’d push his body to the limit - for spent exhaustion that hopefully meant sleep. It wasn’t healthy, but it was the best he could do next to sleeping pills and those were out of the question.
Tora could still remember the way his heart stopped the first time Hiroto tried them. He hadn’t said a word of course, got up in the middle of the night one day unable to sleep and taken two. A couple hours later it had been near impossible waking him. The panic and worry had been terrible, hadn’t subsided until the drowsiness peeled itself from Hiroto’s eyes.
Seeing him standing here, stock-still watching the sun climb high, Tora cherished every minute - or at least as much as he could with the sun burning his back and neck to pieces. Sneaking up behind his serious-faced companion, Tora tackled him into a bear hug, manhandling him over a shoulder and carrying him back ashore. Neither of them would be passing out from heat and fatigue today if Tora could help it.
Snorting at the loving way he’d been placed in their shaded, nest-like hole, Hiroto kept their hands connected even as Tora’s reached down to tug at his hair.
“What?” he asked, looking at Tora’s childishly expectant face, feeling his whole arm move back and forth with Tora’s tugging. Instead of replying, the older man pointed wordlessly at Hiroto’s lap and, just as quickly, was nuzzling his face against bare hips, snorting and huffing loudly like a noisy dog between his thighs.
“Tora stop!” Hiroto shrieked. Laughing, he tried to pull at the dark, sand-crusted hair, but was reduced to giggles and squirming as Tora began blowing raspberries against flushed skin.
“You owe me,” Tora pouted, leaving wet kisses on Hiroto’s belly. “Let me sleep on your laaaaap,” he whined.
Sighing in mock exasperation, Hiroto let Tora still his hips and settle into a comfortable sprawl, seemingly asleep. Yet with his eyes closed, Tora’s hands still managed to inconspicuously wander past narrow hips to cup the other’s bottom with a complimentary squawk.
"Tora,” he chastised, smacking them away. Grinning goofily, the culprit sat up to rearrange them, leaning against the compacted hill of sand so Hiroto could cuddle up against his chest.
Against the rough smooth he was pressed into, for the first time that day Hiroto could feel the beginnings of sleep groggily fuzzying his vision.
These moments where he felt completely relaxed, limp with not a single stress or demand on his shoulders.
His mind could so easily blank into sleep, body rest with use.
“… Tora?”
“Mmm?”
“…”
“I love you too,” Tora chuckled, careful not to disturb Hiroto’s sleeping frame as he hugged him closer.
A/N:
Blah blah blah
Archive
Author: beyondtheremix
Theme: 033 New Day’s Dawn (Hyde)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Tora/Hiroto
Band[s]: Alice Nine
Disclaimer: fluff, eww, corn
Comments: No idea why this got written -_-
A Morning Off
He spent the better part of an hour staring at the white walls of his shared room; simple and bare save for the streetlamp glow that somehow managed to permeate the dark night. Occasionally, passing headlights flittered through the shadowed blocks of open blinds, painting the wall a screened golden-black-gold as cars passed.
The luminescent green of the hotel’s digital clock flicked to a burning three before Hiroto finally gave up and eased out of bed; thick covers falling to the ground. Shuffling quietly past Saga, he lowered himself atop Tora’s bed and crawled up his sleeping figure.
“Tora?”
Hiroto nuzzled the other’s neck as he whispered, draping himself across Tora’s warm chest and belly, inhaling his spicy scent as the mattress dipped below them. Groaning quietly, hands sifted through sheets and covers to bury themselves in messy hair, silencing any of Hiroto’s further entreaties with their comfortable scratch and rub.
In the next bed over, Saga snuffled in his sleep, flipping abruptly for his snores to somehow heighten in volume and fill their three-bed suite.
Tora continued to drowsily paw at Hiroto’s head until sleep took over and, to the other’s dismay, his hand plopped back down into the cocoon of blankets. It had almost been enough to lure Hiroto into a sleepy state. Frowning at his inability, Hiroto rested a cheek against the up-down-up-down of Tora’s bare skin as he watched the other man do what he couldn’t seem to manage.
He didn’t understand how Tora could spend the entire day dozing on vacant couches, monopolizing his lap, drowsing off during meetings and still be able to sleep at night. Letting out a long-suffering sigh he gave Tora’s chest a brisk rub with his nose, snorting against skin when Tora barely even sniff in response.
“Tora?” he whispered again.
Steady breathing was his only reply, speeding cars a background hum as Hiroto mischievously dropped his head down again.
This time there were no sleepy caresses of chestnut hair; instead a disgruntled hand came up to push Hiroto’s face off into the sheets, wet lips leaving a large pool of drool down the line of Tora’s chest. Mumbling nonsensed profanities, Tora cracked an eyelid long enough to see Hiroto’s pleading expression somewhere near his bellybutton.
And with a sigh, he reached down and hauled the smaller man up by the armpits, pulling him high enough so their ears brushed on the same pillow and Hiroto’s care-worn tee could soak up the spittle between them.
“Tora,” Hiroto sing-songed quietly, shifting in the other’s loose hold. He was met with a disheartening slumbered silence. “I can’t sleep again,” he breathed, defeat lacing an already subdued voice. His muscles itched with restless energy, yet half-lidded eyes drooped with fatigue - he couldn’t play teddy bear when he wanted to jump and pass out at the same time.
Sliding from his perch atop Tora’s hips, Hiroto flopped bonelessly to the right, silently willing his body to be normal as he burrowed beneath the pillows. He could still hear the ever fruitless pound, pound, pound of his heart beating away tranquil sleep in rapid succession. Rolling to his side, Tora watched Hiroto angrily kick the sheets off. The younger made to stand, but stopped when Tora’s hand curled around his wrist.
“Come here,” he beckoned hoarsely, sitting up and tugging Hiroto closer.
Looking at Tora’s open arms he wondered how the other could still be so kind and understanding after all the tired nights he’d spent listening to Hiroto make up stories about bubble seas and sand people when both of them were supposed to be sleeping. It got on Hiroto’s nerves, that was for sure. Regardless, the guilt of keeping Tora awake wasn’t enough to silence his need for comfort. These nights were the loneliest he’d ever known, when the world seemed to turn its back and close it eyes. Crawling over, Hiroto settled gingerly on his lap and let Tora’s arms wrap around him.
“I can’t sleep,” he repeated forlornly. He rested his chin on the other’s shoulder, trying to stop the frustrated tears from falling. It was happening more now; sleepless nights turned morning with him wide awake watching the same sun rise and fall.
Despite how tired he was, Tora could never quite fight back the worry these nights entailed. The next day always found Hiroto nodding off at the wheel, staring blankly at his guitar, sometimes lying down dizzy with exhaustion; it didn’t help he forgot to eat when he was tired.
Rubbing Hiroto’s back, Tora turned to eye the hotel clock.
3:28.
Coaxing the other’s head back, he tenderly brushed chapped lips against cool forehead and put on a soothing grin.
“How about we get out of here?”
---
It was silly having to travel so far and cram into pricey hotels just for recording, but at least the area was scenic - expensive, but scenic. Stopping the cabbie, Tora popped the door open and paid their toll.
“This way,” he pointed. Their road was dark and deserted save the lonely streetlight shine every few yards and their guitars shifted up and down, down and up as sandals gently flip-flopped and flop-flipped; tapping and kicking pebbles until toes turned gray with dirt. He led them to the brightest lamp post then, where sand and gravel melded beneath a sign and open fence.
The stifling heat soon gave way to cool growling spray, crashing loud ripples the closer they got. Foam fizzed and gurgled the darkness, tugging up golden sand for abandoned shell and onyx.
Stopping a good distance from the tide, Hiroto and Tora settled amongst the rubble in a small concaved clearing, burrowing bare toes into dipped sand and breathing salty wave-flown winds.
At his first touch the sky thrummed deep violet, fanning out with fingers that strummed melody and life into Tora’s guitar. The shattering of waves vibrated beneath fingertips, sucking electric air to fold between skin and wood, to release sound and nature.
With his face towards open waters, Hiroto imagined each strained note and haunting descent, the fading moon burning his eyelids. Turning, he found his vision blinded by the copied dots of his eyes hiding Tora with their lingering light. Hands moved dimly across the strings of a well-used guitar, a faceless musician of infinite sound, life channeled and churning to one. And then Hiroto blinked. And then Tora’s silhouette was once again whole and Hiroto could puck his own harmony.
Until the first slivers of sun rose, crystal grey and marigold copper, they played. Until the sea shown beryl white and cyan kelly, their fingers danced an array. And when the first gull called, Hiroto set his guitar aside and stood to slip off his shirt and stretch fingers towards the surf.
Tora followed with a knowing smile.
The sand was a powdered elixir.
So often they collared themselves to the studio, submerged in underground lives and walked hallways of constructed concrete and night. Too often they were reminded to stay in and avoid the sun - particularly Hiroto and his effortless tans. They forgot the earth and sky they thrived on, completely lost themselves in the insides of man.
Hiroto turned to grin his way, sunrise bleaching the side of his face white while wind blew hair every which way. Two steps and Tora was knee deep in water, one more and he was running knuckles up soft belly, spreading digits against taut muscle. Shuddering as they drifted lower, Hiroto grabbed the hand and pulled him in for a crooked kiss, smirking against the small spike before yanking Tora playfully into the water.
It was those days Hiroto needed peace most. When it didn’t come he’d push his body to the limit - for spent exhaustion that hopefully meant sleep. It wasn’t healthy, but it was the best he could do next to sleeping pills and those were out of the question.
Tora could still remember the way his heart stopped the first time Hiroto tried them. He hadn’t said a word of course, got up in the middle of the night one day unable to sleep and taken two. A couple hours later it had been near impossible waking him. The panic and worry had been terrible, hadn’t subsided until the drowsiness peeled itself from Hiroto’s eyes.
Seeing him standing here, stock-still watching the sun climb high, Tora cherished every minute - or at least as much as he could with the sun burning his back and neck to pieces. Sneaking up behind his serious-faced companion, Tora tackled him into a bear hug, manhandling him over a shoulder and carrying him back ashore. Neither of them would be passing out from heat and fatigue today if Tora could help it.
Snorting at the loving way he’d been placed in their shaded, nest-like hole, Hiroto kept their hands connected even as Tora’s reached down to tug at his hair.
“What?” he asked, looking at Tora’s childishly expectant face, feeling his whole arm move back and forth with Tora’s tugging. Instead of replying, the older man pointed wordlessly at Hiroto’s lap and, just as quickly, was nuzzling his face against bare hips, snorting and huffing loudly like a noisy dog between his thighs.
“Tora stop!” Hiroto shrieked. Laughing, he tried to pull at the dark, sand-crusted hair, but was reduced to giggles and squirming as Tora began blowing raspberries against flushed skin.
“You owe me,” Tora pouted, leaving wet kisses on Hiroto’s belly. “Let me sleep on your laaaaap,” he whined.
Sighing in mock exasperation, Hiroto let Tora still his hips and settle into a comfortable sprawl, seemingly asleep. Yet with his eyes closed, Tora’s hands still managed to inconspicuously wander past narrow hips to cup the other’s bottom with a complimentary squawk.
"Tora,” he chastised, smacking them away. Grinning goofily, the culprit sat up to rearrange them, leaning against the compacted hill of sand so Hiroto could cuddle up against his chest.
Against the rough smooth he was pressed into, for the first time that day Hiroto could feel the beginnings of sleep groggily fuzzying his vision.
These moments where he felt completely relaxed, limp with not a single stress or demand on his shoulders.
His mind could so easily blank into sleep, body rest with use.
“… Tora?”
“Mmm?”
“…”
“I love you too,” Tora chuckled, careful not to disturb Hiroto’s sleeping frame as he hugged him closer.
A/N:
Blah blah blah
Archive