FANFIC: "Tiger Tamer" Ch 9: Unusual Friendships" (The GazettE- Aoi & Uruha)
Title: Tiger Tamer: Ch 9: Unusual Friendships
Pairings: Aoi x Uruha, Reita x Aoi (friendship), Reita x Uruha (friendship), Aoi x Kai (flirtation), Ruki x Kai (Roommates & friends), (More to come?)
Writer: black_prophet (Midsummer_Slave)
Genre: AU, Sci-Fi with Angst & Smut
Rating: PG13 (For Now)
Warning: Shifters, Occasional Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol, Future BoyLove.
A/N: Well this turned into a lot more of a 'set up and background' chapter than I intended. Lots of Ruki in here, as we move on in our merry little adventure. Don't worry, most of Ch 10 will be Aoi and then things really get cracking!
Summary: Kouyou has settled into his life, he has an apartment and a killer roommate, as well as another great friend who's always over. Akira is his best friend as well as his roommate, and just happens to be waiting for his past to catch up with him. Unfortunately, it's about to catch up with Kouyou as well.
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, claim to own The GazettE (though I do have several CDs & Concert DVDs and a LOT of pictures). They belong to themselves and each other. This fic and the world it is set in is completely the product of my imagination. I do all my own stunts writing. Please do not attempt these techniques at home. Please do not repost this whole or in part anywhere, do not steal the location or plot, do not write a sequel/side-fic etc. No Beta (sorry for mistakes, I try to spare you).
Previous Ch: "Summary & Bios" "Ch 1: Unlikely Beginnings" "Ch 2: The Unwanted" "Ch 3: An Ominous Feeling" "Ch 4: Strange Affections" "Ch 5: Regretful Necessities" "Ch 6: Unclear Paths" "Ch 7: Clouded Judgements" "Ch 8: Inconvenient Worries"
***
Akira stepped back in from the balcony and frowned at the new addition to the couch. Beside the shivering Kouyou who was still wrapped in his blanket, there was now a hunched-over Kai. As Akira moved closer, Kai made a soft, despairing noise, and then buried his face in his hands.
Akira gave Kouyou a questioning look.
Kouyou shrugged, remaining unsympathetic and prodding at the plate of food he had balanced on the arm of the couch. “His roommate isn’t answering his calls, and earlier threatened to repaint his room if he wasn’t home in two hours.”
“Ahhh.” Akira made an understanding noise and flopped down into the armchair facing the couch. “So, it’s been over two hours?”
“Yeah, nearly three I think he said.” Kouyou shrugged. “That’s what it sounded like before he subsided to unintelligible mumbling. He’s probably got one wall painted by now, according to Kai.”
“Stop talking about it and drink your tea.” Kai mumbled. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Me talking about it -or not talking about it- is not going to change the fact that you’re thinking about it right now.” Kouyou huffed, but sipped at the tea that Kai had brought along with the food. “You would know that if you were sitting next to you on the couch, listening to the little despairing noises you keep making every time you get to imagining it too hard.”
Puzzled, Akira looked back and forth between the two before fixing his gaze on Kai. “I don’t get it. What’s the worst that he can do?”
Kai made a weak sound of despair, and Kouyou snorted. “I don’t know what the problem is, I’m sure full-wall murals would liven Kai’s room up immeasurably.”
“I don’t WANT my room to be lively!”
*
“Welcome to La Galleria.” A female voice purred as the heavy wood door swung open beneath his hands and closed with a solid click at his back. “Enjoy your experience.”
Distracted, he nodded and didn’t bother to search for the speaker, ducking his head so his bangs fell further into his face. Between his styled hair and large sunglasses, little could be seen of his face, but he pulled the collar of his jacket up a little just in case. It wouldn’t do for staff to recognize him before he got through the crowd, or they’d ask him to talk about his latest work.
Taking a deep breath and praying to remain unrecognized, Takanori strode through the door and into a relatively busy gallery room; filled with people milling around and considering the paintings on the walls. Sculptures were scattered about on tables and pedestals; they and the paintings spot-lit while the rest of the room existed in shadow. Music trilled through hidden speakers, and uniformed staff milled about with trays of drinks.
Somewhere between a club and an art gallery, La Galleria was a home-away-from-home for Matsumoto Takanori -aka Ruki, aka The Artist. One of three locations that carried and sold his work; it was by far the most anonymous and catered to a rather elite group. It wasn’t often that a complete stranger came strutting in the door, you had to have connections to get in.
Which made it just about perfect.
“Ruki!” Shota -Ruki’s favorite manager- grinned at the sight of him, quickly excusing himself from the group he’d been entertaining and the woman clinging to his sleeve. He moved swiftly through a tangle of people and caught the artist’s arm, drawing him to a quieter hallway before he caught the slighter male in a hug. “I’ve been wondering when I would see you.”
“Hey Sho-ah.” Shaking off his worry and annoyance, Ruki smiled and returned the taller man’s hug with swift affection. He gripped Shota’s ribs tightly, hiding his face in the lapel of the manager’s expensive silk-suit. Shota smelled of a combination of cologne, cigarettes and a slight brush of perfume from whatever woman had hugged him last. “Sorry, I was a little under the weather. Have you sold stuff; are you in need of new pieces?”
“Only you call me that.” Shota smiled, tossing his head to resettle his short black hair. “I missed it. Come on, let’s go to the office and talk. You’re saving me from the claws of several cats; I’ll pour you a glass of wine in thanks.”
Ruki grinned and followed the guiding arm around his shoulders, leaving one of his own around Shota’s waist as they made their way to a locked office door. Shota produced the key and unlocked it, gently ushering Ruki in before him. The room was elegantly appointed with a handsome desk and chair, two guest chairs and a chaise along one wall, bookshelves lining the other three. The artist was well aware of the fact that Shota spent a fair amount of time sleeping on the chaise; but his clients were known for their odd hours.
Making himself comfortable in one of the guest chairs, Ruki stretched and watched with amusement as Shota recovered a bottle of wine from a hidden fridge. From a hidden cabinet he produced two glasses, settling them all on the desk. “Red?”
“Please.” Ruki murmured, stretching and letting his head fall back onto the chair. “And don’t go easy on me.”
“That sort of day, hmm?” Shota made a sympathetic noise as he uncorked the wine and began pouring. “Did you get any work done?”
“Some on a piece that has been haunting me for years.” Ruki smiled and sipped at the wine. “Thanks for this.”
“My pleasure.” Shota leaned on his desk, considering the artist. “I sold three of your pieces; just waiting on your ‘ok’ before I deposit money in the usual fashion.”
“Ok.” Ruki replied with a lift of his glass and a smirk. “Do you have the cash portion ready for me too?”
“Like always.” Shota nodded, setting his glass down and pacing over to one of the shelves and selecting a book. He flipped it open, revealing a hollow section, and withdrew a thick envelope.
“This is why you’re my favorite.” Ruki grinned as he caught the envelope winged across the room to him, tucking it safely away into his jacket’s inner pocket without counting it. He trusted Shota. “You don’t ever ask, you just accept my peculiarities.”
“You’re an artist, Ru; you’re rife with peculiarities.”
“Too true.” Ruki grinned with a lift of his glass. “And you cater to them.”
“What else can I do? You’re the best.” Shota clicked their glasses in a mocking toast, but his eyes were serious as he considered the elusive artist he called a friend. “I don’t want to lose you to someone else who caters to your whims.”
“Never gonna happen, Shota.” Ruki promised, meeting the other man’s eyes. His own gaze was hidden by pale gray contacts, one of his many shields against the outside world. But he had been working with Shota for years, and the manager could clearly read the sincerity in his eyes. “You take the best care of me.”
The manager grunted under his breath, sipping at his wine again as he dropped Ruki’s gaze with a nod. “So long as you remember that, Ruki, we’ll be fine.”
“I’ll remember, I promise.” Ruki murmured, tilting his head in question. “So, anything I should know about?”
Shota frowned. “Is it getting hot, Ruki?”
The artist glanced down, digging in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “I don’t know yet, Shota… It’s just feeling.”
“Are you about to change your name and disappear on me for months?” Shota sighed, handing over an ash-tray. “A heads-up on that would be fantastic, then I wouldn’t worry myself to a stroke while I wait for you to re-emerge.”
“I’m not planning it, Sho-ah; but I never do.” Ruki gave him a weak smile. “Either way, you might as well face it: I’ll always come back to you, and you’ll probably always be the only one who knows me by every name I pick up.”
“Which means if it does get hot, I’m on the grill the same as you huh?” Shota shook his head, holding out a hand. “Give me a cigarette, Ru; and then tell me what you can.”
The artist blinked, giving him a surprised look as he drew on his cigarette and offered the pack and lighter to the other man. “Just what I can?”
Shota lit one, drawing on it in a sharp inhale. “I’m used to you having secrets and only appearing at night, hidden behind hats or sunglasses until I drag you to my office. I’m used to you changing your name, moving money around or switching bank accounts, and keeping an extremely low profile. I’m in danger of becoming used to you disappearing until you decide to fall out of the sky again. Why wouldn’t I be aware there are some things you can’t tell me? Come on Ru, friends don’t insult other friend’s intelligence.”
“Best friends do that all the time.” Ruki argued with a snort.
“Are we best friends, Takanori?”
“We have to be, Shota… You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, and if you’re not my best friend, I may never have one.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll be your best friend, Runt.”
*
“We just danced.” Kai shrugged, glancing at Kouyou from the corner of his eye.
For the last twenty minutes as Reita asked him about Aoi and the club, the blond made no movement, hunkered down in his corner of the couch like he was settling into a bomb shelter and waiting for the world to explode. Kai didn’t want to look at him directly, but found his gaze kept wandering back to Kouyou as he waited for the other to react to something he said.
“He just found you on the floor?” Reita mused, stretching in his chair and letting his head fall back so he could eye the ceiling.
“Well I moved around a bit, there were a few girls with wandering hands.” Kai blushed, ducking his head slightly. “And then the next time there was a hand on my shoulder, it was him.”
Reita grunted, and the three of them sat in silence for several moments.
“So basically, we have nothing.” Kouyou said. “Until he shows up, we have nothing.”
Reita grimaced and sat up, running a hand through his half-spiked hair and settling it to even more disarray. “Yeah, pretty much.”
***
Hey guys, I hope you enjoy the Chapter and my rush of productivity. I'm a little wonky tonight so I hope this is ok (and if it isn't, I'm sorry it's not better). Enjoy the read. Chu~
Edit: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. SO. THIS IS ENTRY 200 IN MY JOURNAL. 200, GUYS. I NEED TO DO SOMETHING FANTASTIC FOR YOU, BUT I JUST DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO. I LOVE YOU, SO SO MUCH. THANK YOU FOR STAYING WITH ME THIS LONG! I HOPE YOU'RE AROUND WHEN I HIT 500 AND 1000 ENTRIES. T_T <333
Pairings: Aoi x Uruha, Reita x Aoi (friendship), Reita x Uruha (friendship), Aoi x Kai (flirtation), Ruki x Kai (Roommates & friends), (More to come?)
Writer: black_prophet (Midsummer_Slave)
Genre: AU, Sci-Fi with Angst & Smut
Rating: PG13 (For Now)
Warning: Shifters, Occasional Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol, Future BoyLove.
A/N: Well this turned into a lot more of a 'set up and background' chapter than I intended. Lots of Ruki in here, as we move on in our merry little adventure. Don't worry, most of Ch 10 will be Aoi and then things really get cracking!
Summary: Kouyou has settled into his life, he has an apartment and a killer roommate, as well as another great friend who's always over. Akira is his best friend as well as his roommate, and just happens to be waiting for his past to catch up with him. Unfortunately, it's about to catch up with Kouyou as well.
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor will I ever, claim to own The GazettE (though I do have several CDs & Concert DVDs and a LOT of pictures). They belong to themselves and each other. This fic and the world it is set in is completely the product of my imagination. I do all my own stunts writing. Please do not attempt these techniques at home. Please do not repost this whole or in part anywhere, do not steal the location or plot, do not write a sequel/side-fic etc. No Beta (sorry for mistakes, I try to spare you).
Previous Ch: "Summary & Bios" "Ch 1: Unlikely Beginnings" "Ch 2: The Unwanted" "Ch 3: An Ominous Feeling" "Ch 4: Strange Affections" "Ch 5: Regretful Necessities" "Ch 6: Unclear Paths" "Ch 7: Clouded Judgements" "Ch 8: Inconvenient Worries"
***
Akira stepped back in from the balcony and frowned at the new addition to the couch. Beside the shivering Kouyou who was still wrapped in his blanket, there was now a hunched-over Kai. As Akira moved closer, Kai made a soft, despairing noise, and then buried his face in his hands.
Akira gave Kouyou a questioning look.
Kouyou shrugged, remaining unsympathetic and prodding at the plate of food he had balanced on the arm of the couch. “His roommate isn’t answering his calls, and earlier threatened to repaint his room if he wasn’t home in two hours.”
“Ahhh.” Akira made an understanding noise and flopped down into the armchair facing the couch. “So, it’s been over two hours?”
“Yeah, nearly three I think he said.” Kouyou shrugged. “That’s what it sounded like before he subsided to unintelligible mumbling. He’s probably got one wall painted by now, according to Kai.”
“Stop talking about it and drink your tea.” Kai mumbled. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”
“Me talking about it -or not talking about it- is not going to change the fact that you’re thinking about it right now.” Kouyou huffed, but sipped at the tea that Kai had brought along with the food. “You would know that if you were sitting next to you on the couch, listening to the little despairing noises you keep making every time you get to imagining it too hard.”
Puzzled, Akira looked back and forth between the two before fixing his gaze on Kai. “I don’t get it. What’s the worst that he can do?”
Kai made a weak sound of despair, and Kouyou snorted. “I don’t know what the problem is, I’m sure full-wall murals would liven Kai’s room up immeasurably.”
“I don’t WANT my room to be lively!”
*
“Welcome to La Galleria.” A female voice purred as the heavy wood door swung open beneath his hands and closed with a solid click at his back. “Enjoy your experience.”
Distracted, he nodded and didn’t bother to search for the speaker, ducking his head so his bangs fell further into his face. Between his styled hair and large sunglasses, little could be seen of his face, but he pulled the collar of his jacket up a little just in case. It wouldn’t do for staff to recognize him before he got through the crowd, or they’d ask him to talk about his latest work.
Taking a deep breath and praying to remain unrecognized, Takanori strode through the door and into a relatively busy gallery room; filled with people milling around and considering the paintings on the walls. Sculptures were scattered about on tables and pedestals; they and the paintings spot-lit while the rest of the room existed in shadow. Music trilled through hidden speakers, and uniformed staff milled about with trays of drinks.
Somewhere between a club and an art gallery, La Galleria was a home-away-from-home for Matsumoto Takanori -aka Ruki, aka The Artist. One of three locations that carried and sold his work; it was by far the most anonymous and catered to a rather elite group. It wasn’t often that a complete stranger came strutting in the door, you had to have connections to get in.
Which made it just about perfect.
“Ruki!” Shota -Ruki’s favorite manager- grinned at the sight of him, quickly excusing himself from the group he’d been entertaining and the woman clinging to his sleeve. He moved swiftly through a tangle of people and caught the artist’s arm, drawing him to a quieter hallway before he caught the slighter male in a hug. “I’ve been wondering when I would see you.”
“Hey Sho-ah.” Shaking off his worry and annoyance, Ruki smiled and returned the taller man’s hug with swift affection. He gripped Shota’s ribs tightly, hiding his face in the lapel of the manager’s expensive silk-suit. Shota smelled of a combination of cologne, cigarettes and a slight brush of perfume from whatever woman had hugged him last. “Sorry, I was a little under the weather. Have you sold stuff; are you in need of new pieces?”
“Only you call me that.” Shota smiled, tossing his head to resettle his short black hair. “I missed it. Come on, let’s go to the office and talk. You’re saving me from the claws of several cats; I’ll pour you a glass of wine in thanks.”
Ruki grinned and followed the guiding arm around his shoulders, leaving one of his own around Shota’s waist as they made their way to a locked office door. Shota produced the key and unlocked it, gently ushering Ruki in before him. The room was elegantly appointed with a handsome desk and chair, two guest chairs and a chaise along one wall, bookshelves lining the other three. The artist was well aware of the fact that Shota spent a fair amount of time sleeping on the chaise; but his clients were known for their odd hours.
Making himself comfortable in one of the guest chairs, Ruki stretched and watched with amusement as Shota recovered a bottle of wine from a hidden fridge. From a hidden cabinet he produced two glasses, settling them all on the desk. “Red?”
“Please.” Ruki murmured, stretching and letting his head fall back onto the chair. “And don’t go easy on me.”
“That sort of day, hmm?” Shota made a sympathetic noise as he uncorked the wine and began pouring. “Did you get any work done?”
“Some on a piece that has been haunting me for years.” Ruki smiled and sipped at the wine. “Thanks for this.”
“My pleasure.” Shota leaned on his desk, considering the artist. “I sold three of your pieces; just waiting on your ‘ok’ before I deposit money in the usual fashion.”
“Ok.” Ruki replied with a lift of his glass and a smirk. “Do you have the cash portion ready for me too?”
“Like always.” Shota nodded, setting his glass down and pacing over to one of the shelves and selecting a book. He flipped it open, revealing a hollow section, and withdrew a thick envelope.
“This is why you’re my favorite.” Ruki grinned as he caught the envelope winged across the room to him, tucking it safely away into his jacket’s inner pocket without counting it. He trusted Shota. “You don’t ever ask, you just accept my peculiarities.”
“You’re an artist, Ru; you’re rife with peculiarities.”
“Too true.” Ruki grinned with a lift of his glass. “And you cater to them.”
“What else can I do? You’re the best.” Shota clicked their glasses in a mocking toast, but his eyes were serious as he considered the elusive artist he called a friend. “I don’t want to lose you to someone else who caters to your whims.”
“Never gonna happen, Shota.” Ruki promised, meeting the other man’s eyes. His own gaze was hidden by pale gray contacts, one of his many shields against the outside world. But he had been working with Shota for years, and the manager could clearly read the sincerity in his eyes. “You take the best care of me.”
The manager grunted under his breath, sipping at his wine again as he dropped Ruki’s gaze with a nod. “So long as you remember that, Ruki, we’ll be fine.”
“I’ll remember, I promise.” Ruki murmured, tilting his head in question. “So, anything I should know about?”
Shota frowned. “Is it getting hot, Ruki?”
The artist glanced down, digging in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. “I don’t know yet, Shota… It’s just feeling.”
“Are you about to change your name and disappear on me for months?” Shota sighed, handing over an ash-tray. “A heads-up on that would be fantastic, then I wouldn’t worry myself to a stroke while I wait for you to re-emerge.”
“I’m not planning it, Sho-ah; but I never do.” Ruki gave him a weak smile. “Either way, you might as well face it: I’ll always come back to you, and you’ll probably always be the only one who knows me by every name I pick up.”
“Which means if it does get hot, I’m on the grill the same as you huh?” Shota shook his head, holding out a hand. “Give me a cigarette, Ru; and then tell me what you can.”
The artist blinked, giving him a surprised look as he drew on his cigarette and offered the pack and lighter to the other man. “Just what I can?”
Shota lit one, drawing on it in a sharp inhale. “I’m used to you having secrets and only appearing at night, hidden behind hats or sunglasses until I drag you to my office. I’m used to you changing your name, moving money around or switching bank accounts, and keeping an extremely low profile. I’m in danger of becoming used to you disappearing until you decide to fall out of the sky again. Why wouldn’t I be aware there are some things you can’t tell me? Come on Ru, friends don’t insult other friend’s intelligence.”
“Best friends do that all the time.” Ruki argued with a snort.
“Are we best friends, Takanori?”
“We have to be, Shota… You’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a best friend, and if you’re not my best friend, I may never have one.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll be your best friend, Runt.”
*
“We just danced.” Kai shrugged, glancing at Kouyou from the corner of his eye.
For the last twenty minutes as Reita asked him about Aoi and the club, the blond made no movement, hunkered down in his corner of the couch like he was settling into a bomb shelter and waiting for the world to explode. Kai didn’t want to look at him directly, but found his gaze kept wandering back to Kouyou as he waited for the other to react to something he said.
“He just found you on the floor?” Reita mused, stretching in his chair and letting his head fall back so he could eye the ceiling.
“Well I moved around a bit, there were a few girls with wandering hands.” Kai blushed, ducking his head slightly. “And then the next time there was a hand on my shoulder, it was him.”
Reita grunted, and the three of them sat in silence for several moments.
“So basically, we have nothing.” Kouyou said. “Until he shows up, we have nothing.”
Reita grimaced and sat up, running a hand through his half-spiked hair and settling it to even more disarray. “Yeah, pretty much.”
***
Hey guys, I hope you enjoy the Chapter and my rush of productivity. I'm a little wonky tonight so I hope this is ok (and if it isn't, I'm sorry it's not better). Enjoy the read. Chu~
Edit: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. SO. THIS IS ENTRY 200 IN MY JOURNAL. 200, GUYS. I NEED TO DO SOMETHING FANTASTIC FOR YOU, BUT I JUST DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO DO. I LOVE YOU, SO SO MUCH. THANK YOU FOR STAYING WITH ME THIS LONG! I HOPE YOU'RE AROUND WHEN I HIT 500 AND 1000 ENTRIES. T_T <333