The Adventures of Nowhere Man and Whiskey Boy [As Told by No One], 2.5/??, Yune/Aoi, Reita/Aoi
Title: The Adventures of Nowhere Man and Whiskey Boy [As Told by No One]
Author: losseflame
Chapters: 2.5/??
Genre: Romance, angst, drama, humor
Warnings: language, use (and abuse) of alcohol, sexual innuendo, extreme faggotry
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Yune/Aoi Reita/Aoi, Reita/Uruha (friendship)
Synopsis: In which Nowhere Man meets Whiskey Boy, and adventures ensue. Or in Layman's terms, the social wavelengths of Akira and Yuu
Comments: Happy Birthday 1337_lurker~!
1 ::: 2
***
Interim, or in Layman’s Terms, Interlude
Yuu wakes up to the sound of Yune puttering around in the kitchen and singing really obnoxiously along to some Tokio Hotel song he’s blasting on the radio. Or rather, Yuu wakes up to the smell of omelettes that is the result of Yune puttering in the kitchen and singing really obnoxiously along to some Tokio Hotel song he’s blasting on the radio.
It triggers the nausea that has lately always seemed to be lying in the base of Yuu’s stomach, waiting for the most inopportune moment to rise up and force bile into the back of his throat. Yuu rolls over to hang his head over the side of the bed in hopes that it will somehow magically alleviate the nausea; however, that only seems to make his bones ache (how the hell do bones ache, anyway?) and anyway there’s nothing in his stomach to puke up anyway. Due to the lack of ingesting anything for the past 12 hours. So now Yuu has an aching body, a bad case of nausea and a Tokio Hotel-induced headache.
Yuu promptly decides that today will be a massively shitty day, that it would be better if he managed to fall back asleep until he started to feel better, and that there’s no way for him to actually do that because he feels so terrible there’s no point in trying.
So instead of falling back asleep like any normal person would do (not that Yuu is in any case normal, at least since seven months ago, anyway), Yuu groans and slithers out of bed, falls to the floor, and lies there for about five minutes, pumping himself up enough to actually get up into a semi-vertical position.
He notes the oddly sperm shaped stain on the ceiling, realizes that he’s in Yune’s room, and it then becomes much clearer as to some reasons why he’s so sore.
Fucking prime.
It’s the first time he’s gotten laid in two months and he can only remember flashes of it.
He sighs, ignoring the small voice in the back of his head mocking him for hoping that he might actually get laid with someone who isn’t his best friend, and gets up, rubbing his hand over his face.
He picks up a pair of sweatpants and slides them on (really, it should have been more obvious what exactly went down last night, because hello, naked) before padding barefoot to the bathroom.
His mouth tastes like a family of squirrels had taken refuge there sometime during the night, and he’ll be damned before he actually eats something when he can taste his own breath.
That can’t be good for your health.
The guy staring back at him from the mirror has dark circles underneath his eyes and skin so pale you could see the spider webbing of blue veins beneath. Yuu sighed again.
I need to get out more, he thought, as he grabbed his toothbrush and Yune’s retarded cinnamon flavoured toothpaste. Or get a better concealer.
The cinnamon tingles when it touched his gums, and Yuu adds this to his constantly growing list of reasons why Yune is a strange and frustrating person who makes strange and frustrating decisions that Yuu shouldn’t follow but always does. Probably because he’s an idiot.
That said, it’s not like Yune is the only strange and frustrating person Yuu finds himself gravitating towards. Only Yuu’s had sex with Yune, who he doesn’t really have the urge to actually have sex with but does anyway because there’s no strings attached and no STIs involved, and he’s only fantasized about sex with the other.
Irony’s a bitch.
His stomach cramps again and Yuu sucks in a breath, leaning his forehead against the coolness of the mirror and hoping that it’ll help with the pounding in his head. His (cinnamon scented) breath fogs up the glass and he closes his eyes.
Breathes in. Out.
Opens his eyes and forces a half-smile, erasing the lines of discomfort on his face. He doesn’t need to pretend with Yune, but he might as well get some practice in before being faced with the necessity.
And as if Yune read his mind (and for all Yuu knows, he might have) Yune appears behind him, leaning against the doorway of the bathroom.
“Hey there.” Yune’s voice is overdramatic and loud, and Yuu’s smile is real for about half a second before it falls back to its default.
“Hey there yourself.” Yuu voice is quiet, and Yune offers a hand, as if Yuu needs leading.
“I made breakfast.” Yuu hums, grasps Yune’s hand and allows him to lead Yuu to the kitchen.
His stomach roils at the scent, and Yune looks sympathetic as Yuu sits himself at their rickety, dirt cheap kitchen table. They’ve been spending their money on other things lately.
“Do you want me to get you something?” Yuu knows they both know that ‘something’ isn’t referring to the omelettes.
Yuu shakes his head, despite the stab of longing that goes through his gut.
He manages to choke down half an omelette before giving up and pushing the plate away. Yune gives him a patented mother-hen look, and Yuu waves his concern away.
“I’m fine.” True, their definition of ‘fine’ has been…skewed of late, but really, as far as Yuu is concerned, as long as he manages to hold the omelette down for a while, he’s fine.
He sighs, leaning his elbows on the table and rubbing his eyes. It didn’t used to be this bad. His stomach is roiling mercilessly, rejecting the food vehemently.
“We have practice today.” Yune reminds him cheerfully, taking the plate away and shoving a glass of water and two aspirins towards Yuu with a look. Yuu rolls his eyes at said look and downs the pills dry, following them with water. They scrape at his throat painfully, but Yuu ignores it, focusing instead on stopping the fluttery, hopeful feeling in his chest at the mention of practice. Now is not the time to be acting like a 12-year-old girl. Or ever, for that matter.
Yuu has been influenced way too much by the idiots he surrounds himself with. He smiles - a real smile - at this thought, and despite the nausea and headache and general shittiness of the day, he decides that, yeah, band practice sounds okay.
.:.:.:.
Scratch that.
Yuu walks in the building, smiling in preparation for greeting the band. He opens the door to the practice room and feels his smile freeze, his greeting choking him.
He promptly tries to walk out again, stopped only by Yune grasping his wrist and muttering something that sounded suspiciously like ‘don’t be a brat’. Yuu turns back around, assesses the situation, and decides that today is even shittier than originally thought.
The girl is beautiful, he’s not even about to deny that reality, and she is smiling as Akira shows her his bass, plucking something experimentally. It’s so obviously hidden in the smiles they send each other and the light, just-enough-contact-to-not-be-casual touches they give each other that they were together last night, and that they played something other than Parcheesi to pass the time. Akira turns around to lean the bass up in its stand, and Yuu can see light scratches at the base of his neck, and a not-so-subtle beginning of a bite on his shoulder.
Yuu’s stomach is nauseous, his bones are aching, his head is hurting and now his chest is clenching with something like hopelessness.
Akira smiles back at the girl with naked contentment. And Yuu shoves the hopelessness under the reflected happiness that one of his friends (and just friends) is content.
Really, he’s a grown man, and he’s in no position to be angsting like a teenage girl after someone.
So he pastes on a smiles and tries not to hate the girl on sight.
And she’s so charming and they have so much in common that she even makes that hard.
Bitch.
.:.:.:.
This is the second time that Akira has appeared on Yuu’s doorstep for no apparent, relevant reason. Yuu smiles as he walks out to sit next to him on the stairs. At least this time it’s at a reasonable 10:00 at night.
Yuu brushes his shoulder against Akira’s, the calm that he only seems to get around Akira lessening the ‘this has been the shittiest day in the history of shitty days’ feeling that has been spreading cold from his chest into his veins. “So…”
“We didn’t go out to dinner last night.”
Yuu smiles, despite the sudden pang in his chest. “I think you were busy. With Jenna.”
Akira looks at him with wide eyes that make him look younger than he is and Yuu bites his lip to avoid laughing. “Yeah, but not before. I was in my apartment contemplating how screwed I’d be if a burglar got in before.”
Akira sounds like a whiny kid, and he’s pouting to match the tone. Yuu wants to kiss the downturned corners of Akira’s mouth and lick the lingering sadness away.
Yuu’s subconsciously leaned in so close throughout the conversation, close enough that all he’d have to do is lean in a little bit more and their lips would touch.
Akira stiffens as if he just noticed the lack of space, and they’re left looking at each other. Yuu is trying to read Akira’s eyes, and his hand is cupping Akira’s cheek. Yuu scoots a little closer, and his head is spinning because he’s not even sure if this is a good idea but Akira is so warm and close and Yuu is so cold and lonely.
He starts to say Akira’s name as he leans in, but he is cut off before he can start.
“Why don’t we go walk around till we find someplace to make up for our grievous lack of bonding yesterday?” Akira is pulling back from Yuu, getting up and brushing off his clothes.
Yuu sits there, mildly stunned and feeling as if he was just slapped. He closes his eyes to get a hold of himself and opens them again once they stopped stinging.
So much for not angsting like a teenage girl.
He looks up, and Akira is smiling hesitantly, offering a hand to help Yuu up. His smile is friendly, as is the hand.
Yuu looks at it, and re-imagines the warmth Akira gave off.
And decides to take what he can get.
He reaches out his hand, and Akira grasps it, hauling him to his feet.
They start walking under the smog choked stars, the acidic yellow streetlights burning the pavement beneath their feet.
Akira shoots Yuu another smile as they go start to look for a place that’s open, and Yuu shoots one back.
And if Yuu can feel the cold and loneliness and longing creeping through him with each step, well then.
He’s always been good at denying his problems.
.:.:.:.
“You know, instead of moping like a little bitch, you could simply tell him. Or if you lack testicular fortitude for that, you could find someone who likes you back.” Yune’s voice is condescending, his hand on one hip and his makeup glittering in the crappy dressing room lights. Yuu thinks Yune is at once ridiculous, beautiful, and absolutely lacking compassion. He expresses this by throwing an eyeliner pencil at Yune’s smug face. Yune catches it with a grin, moving forwards to pin Yuu against the counter.
Yune is warm and alive and friendly where he presses against Yuu, and Yuu supposes that platonic sex is a good substitute for no sex at all.
It’s fifty minutes till performing, right around the time that Takanori starts making his rounds, and any minute now the crowds screaming will increase, which makes this the worst time possible for a quickie. But Yuu is cold and Yune is warm and more than willing to share his heat.
So he’s going to take what fate sends.
“You know, as fantastic as sex is with you, I’d like you to bag someone for yourself so I can actually get myself a lover of my own. It’s getting quite tiring, you know.” Yune is whispering this into the skin of Yuu’s neck, and the words are teasing. He presses a kiss there, just in case Yuu wasn’t already aware of it. Yuu tips his head back in a laugh.
“Yes, I’m sure you detest every moment of it.” Another kiss, this one to shut him up.
“I do. Every second of it.” Yune runs his hands over Yuu’s wrists, his arms, the crook of his elbow, murmuring nonsense as he does. One hand goes to cup the back of Yuu’s neck, the other slides to his waist, and Yune pushes him to sit on the counter. Yuu bites Yune’s bottom lip, and Yune smiles.
It feels nice. Or less alone, anyway.
Yune slides his hand under Yuu’s shirt, and Yuu responds by attempting to unbutton Yune’s entirely unnecessary pants.
They’re so wrapped up in what they want the other to be, they don’t noticed the door being opened.
***
A/N: Cheers for crappy cliffie! :D You all love it. So, who does thou think it is?