The Loneliness I Pride Myself On ~ 10/18 ~ [Reita/Ruki]
Title: The Loneliness I Pride Myself On
Author: ravennightmare6
Beta: krasivayadusha
Chapter: 10/18
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut
Rating(Overall): NC-17
Pairing/s: Reita/Ruki (Akira/Takanori), Uruha/Aoi (Kouyou/Yuu)
Synopsis: Takanori liked to think that he hated everybody equally. Though, he had to admit, somewhat begrudgingly, that he hated a few less than others.
Warnings: Use of real names, Profanity, Angst
Disclaimer: As unfortunate as it may be, I do not own The GazettE. I only own the plot.
Comments: At the bottom, darlings <3
Previous Chapter
The soft glow of morning sunlight filtered in through the cracks between the curtain and the dark painted walls indicating the sun had risen well into the sky. However, the pair huddled in the bed didn’t shift from their position as the early morning hours slowly ticked by. The night had been calm and comfortable for both of them; their bodies seeming to fit perfectly together like puzzle pieces, as cliché as that was in both of their minds. Neither of them had moved an inch since they’d fallen asleep; arms stayed linked around a thin, lithe waist, a hand delicately curled against a strong chest, legs tangled together under the thick duvet. Perfectly comfortable, neither of them wanted to move an inch.
Akira had been awake for maybe an hour or so. Slowly coming back into consciousness he glanced down to look at the small blonde curled against him whose features looked less strained as he slept, ‘much more beautiful’, Akira thought. Smiling softly, the third year gently pressed his nose to the crown to Takanori’s head to inhale the second year’s intoxicating scent. Takanori smelled strangely like cinnamon with a hint of… caramel? An odd combination, but Akira liked it. Tightening his arms slightly, the elder gingerly pressed his lips lightly against bleached blonde strands of hair. He pulled away a little when Takanori shifted in his grasp, concerned he’d roused the sleeping blonde from his peaceful slumber. However, Takanori sighed contently as he nuzzled Akira’s bare neck, continuing to sleep soundly.
For Akira, it was like some kind of really crazy, unbelievable dream. Never in his wildest fantasies had he imagined that he would eventually be sharing a bed with someone he’d despised so intensely, let alone actually enjoy being entwined so intimately with the other boy, loving the way that thin little frame moulded to his own; every curve and every angle slotting against his own frame perfectly. Come to think of it, he didn’t even remember why he had hated the second year so much. His guessed it was because Takanori had been the only person to ever refuse his advances; back then Akira had been a different person, far more arrogant and unpleasant. The tall blonde had been through changes of his own however Takanori seemed to still loath the old Akira. Maybe, he contemplated, that’s why the second year hated him so; because of the person he used to be. But he wasn’t that person anymore. Akira found that every day since he’d moved into the enormous, at least by his standards, home Takanori seemed to amaze him. Every day he would learn something new about the smaller boy and every day he would find himself liking Takanori more and more. Really, the little blonde was anything but the dull, arsehole Akira had thought he was to begin with. He was complex, sensitive, and a hell of a lot nicer than most other people thought. Even though most couldn’t see through that thick skin the second year wore, Akira could; as could Aoi, he guessed. Akira wondered endlessly what it would take to get Takanori to finally open up completely and let people in. He got that it’d take a while, but he still had no clue as to how to really approach the situation.
Slipping his eyes shut again Akira listened to Takanori’s even breaths, enjoying the soothing effect they had. The little blonde shifted his hips slightly, hooking his leg up slightly between Akira’s while the other lay underneath one of the elder’s. Akita could feel that the bottom hem of his sweat pants had slightly ridden up sometime during the night when he felt Takanori’s smooth, hairless skin brush against his own hairier calves. A tingling sensation spread through him at the skin to skin contact and the elder couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to run his calloused fingers over that silky surface. Not in any way that was sexual; he just wanted to feel Takanori, feel his skin, his warmth, and be close to him. He smiled as he could only imagine what the smaller boy’s velvety flesh would feel like under his fingertips.
Nuzzling his head into the crook of Akira’s neck a little more, Takanori’s quiet breaths began to pick up ever so slightly, indicating that the little blonde was beginning to wake up. The fingers that rested against the bare skin of the tall blonde’s back tightened into a small fist. Slowly coming back into consciousness Takanori yawned, his warm breath tickling Akira’s neck and sending a pleasant chill up the tall blonde’s spine. The elder boy waited patiently for the smaller to awaken and to most likely be kicked out of the room, seeing as Takanori had come back to his right mind. Akira imagined that there would be no way Takanori would let him stay now that he was no longer upset and in need of comfort; he’d figured out that the second year’s mind functioned in that fashion.
With a groan Takanori opened his eyes, glancing around tiredly. His room was lit with a small amount of dull sunlight. He shifted slightly, finally noticing that his entire lithe frame was pressed against another stronger, bare-chested one. Instantly his heartbeat sped up. There was only one person who could’ve possibly been there with him and, in a flash, he remembered the previous day’s events and how he’d asked Akira to stay with him. Taking a quiet, shaky breath he tried to relax again. As much as he would have liked to deny it, the feeling of being locked in the third year’s tight embrace felt nice; really, really nice. It was comfortable and warm and he felt like he belonged there. Immediately he felt a heated blush climb it’s up to his cheeks. Luckily his face was hidden in the juncture between Akira’s shoulder and neck, otherwise he surely would’ve been made fun of by the birdbrain who seemed to enjoy making him look like a fool whenever the chance arose.
‘Maybe,’ thought Takanori, ‘He’ll think I’m still asleep if I stay really, really still-’
“Morning, Taka,” Akira’s gruff morning voice cut off the little blonde’s thoughts. There was no doubt that the tall blonde sounded incredibly sexy; the roughness making his baritone voice sound even deeper than usual and it sent a pleasant chill down Takanori’s spine, raising goosebumps on his skin.
Lifting his head slightly, the little blonde glanced up at Akira who had pulled his head away a little so he could see Takanori properly. “Morning,” his own voice was gruff, but didn’t have the same sexy undertone as Akira’s did.
A small smile graced Akira’s lips as he seemed to stare adoringly at Takanori and the small blonde found himself unable to look Akira in the eye as his heart sped up again, feeling like there was a hummingbird caught in his chest. Why was he suddenly so nervous? Maybe it was because he noticed how close their faces really were and how easy it’d be for Akira to just lean down and kiss him. Takanori eyes widened as he wondered where that thought had even come from. He didn’t want to kiss Akira. Not at all. Not even in the slightest…
Nope.
“Did you sleep ok?” For the second time that morning Akira derailed Takanori’s train of thought.
The small blonde’s attention snapped back to the third year in front of his as he slowly nodded, casting his eyes down. “Yeah… better than I have been lately…” He glanced up through his lashes feeling his cheeks heat up again. “… Thanks Akira.”
“It was my pleasure,” the blonde commented easily, the simple statement making Takanori’s heart flutter a little.
Silence settled around the pair for a while but it wasn’t long before Takanori felt Akira shift slightly and then there was the foreign feeling of fingers stroking through his messed blonde hair. At the rate he was going he was positive his heart was going to leap out of his chest; Akira really wasn’t very good for his health.
“Akira…” Takanori whispered, frozen and unable to look into the elder boy’s eyes, instead focusing on the bare chest in front of him which really wasn’t making him feel much better at all. “… What are you doing?”
A deep rumble rolled through Akira’s chest, the vibrations hitting Takanori’s cheek. “Nothing,” he answered, his tone playfully sarcastic. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
Takanori scoffed, giving the elder’s firm chest a soft wack with his small fist, “Shut up, idiot.”
Akira laughed softly again before the quiet took over again. Takanori began to relax as Akira’s long fingers continued to stroke comfortingly through the strands of his heavily bleached blonde hair. It was unbelievably comfortable, Takanori thought, to be there with Akira. As much as he’d initially despised the senior he’d somehow managed to grow attached to him over the time they’d spent together and, not that he knew Akira wasn’t all he seemed to be, the second year student found himself liking Akira far more than he’d ever thought he would. If someone had told him three months ago that Akira would grow to be one of the closest people to him he’d have given that person a nice fat lip and told them they were completely fucking insane.
“Hey, Taka,” Akira’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. Glancing up at the elder blonde who was also staring down at him he ‘hmm’ed indicating that he was listening. Fingers still stroking soft hair, he sighed, “I’m really sorry about yesterday.”
Takanori groaned and pushed his hand against the tall blonde’s chest so he could lean back and sit up a little, breaking their contact. With a frown creasing his brow he rolled his eyes, “Oh, my God, Akira. Just drop it already, would you? I already told you its fine.”
“You clearly weren’t fine yesterday,” Akira retorted.
Glaring, Takanori sat up straight, completely breaking their intimate embrace, and pulling the covers off both of them. “Drop it, Akira. It’s over and done with, alright?”
“Drop it? You want me to drop it?” Akira mimicked Takanori and sat up next to him, hair sticking out at odd angles. The elder blonde was quickly becoming irritated. All he did was apologize and Takanori was suddenly getting all defensive.
“Yes, I want you to drop it.”
“Well I can’t, ok?” Akira growled. “Not after how you acted yesterday. Why can’t you just let me apologize and make it up to you? Why can’t you actually open up and maybe, I don’t know here’s a crazy idea, tell me why you were like that!” Running a hand through his dishevelled hair he scoffed in mock amusement. “You run off almost in tears, then ask me to stay in your freaking bed with you and then you won’t even tell me what’s going on. Not one single skerrick of an explanation. I get that your parents are a tender subject for you; I understand that, I do. But you have to tell me why. You can’t lock people out forever, Takanori.”
The entire time Akira spoke Takanori was rapidly growing angrier and angrier. He clearly had no idea how hard it was for the small blonde to even consider telling him what was going on, let alone actually do it. Takanori scowled, “Well it’s worked for me so far.”
“It won’t work for much longer. You can’t just stay locked up in your own little world, Taka-”
“No, Akira,” Takanori abruptly cut him off, throwing the covers away and untangling the pair’s legs as he stood up, hair dishevelled, legs shown off my a pair of short silk pyjama bottoms and oversized sweatshirt hanging off his shoulder to reveal beautifully smooth, pale skin. If he weren’t so angry, Akira would’ve thought he looked gorgeous. “We are not having this conversation right now,” the little blonde snapped as he began pacing towards the door, small bare feet shuffling silently along the carpet.
“Takanori, wait!” Akira scrambled to get out of bed as the smaller boy reached the door. “We aren’t done talking.”
“Yes we are. Now leave me alone.” Akira thumped to the floor, legs still caught up in the crisp white sheets as Takanori slammed the door shut.
Storming down the hallway Takanori stomped passed the staircase and over to the other side of the second level to the door of his recording studio. Slamming the wood shut and locking it behind him the little blonde flicked on the light before plopping down in his desk chair.
While waiting for his expensive computer equipment to start up Takanori leaned back and swivelled around in his chair a few times, reflecting on the previous day. Akira really was the opposite of what he’d thought this whole time. The elder blonde’s home had come as a huge shock to him, and not just the loving relationship he appeared to share with his mother and his sister that Takanori so enviously regarded. But the walk the tall blonde had to make just to get to and from school. Takanori wondered if he had to walk all that way every day; suddenly the twenty measly minutes he had to stroll to get to the place he considered hell didn’t really seem so bad.
He felt as if he’d been incredibly rude, really. Akira had trusted him enough to bring him home and introduce him his mother and sister and all Takanori had done was freeze up. Granted, it wasn’t something he could really control, but he felt like he should’ve been more polite. Guilt built up in the pit of his stomach as he realized that he didn’t know when Akira would see his family again. Sure, he could always go and visit but it was an hour and a half walk away and the pair of them had school and assignments and homework. Takanori felt as if he were taking Akira away from his mother and his sister who probably needed him a lot more than Takanori did. It would’ve been a huge understatement to say that he was feeling quite selfish.
With a sigh he turned in the chair and picked up his favourite cherry red guitar and placed it atop his leg. Hooking it up to the newly loaded computer he opened up his editing program and hit the record button, intending to get down a new track he’d been working on. Takanori was thankful the bruise on his wrist had finally faded enough that he could play again; he had a lot of recording he needed to catch up, Akira managing to make him miss a few of his personal deadlines.
***
After clearing his head by taking a good three or four hours to track the guitar and bass for his new song, Takanori had returned to his room to find his bed absent of any birdbrained third years. Assuming the elder boy had merely retreated to his own room across the hallway, Takanori quickly slipped off to have a shower, enjoying the relaxation the hot beads of water brought him.
Freshly showered and feeling like he was in a far better mood, Takanori changed into a pair of tight fitting black jeans and a baggy red and black plaid shirt. With a towel draped over his shoulders to stop his hair from dripping onto his clothes Takanori exited his room in search of nourishment. Entering the kitchen his jaw dropped at the sight of Akira leaned over the stove top, flour clearly smeared across his hands and forearms, the tall blonde had also managed to get it over the countertop. A few broken eggshells sat on the counter, Takanori spying an egg yolk on the floor not too far away from Akira’s bare feet. The sound of sizzling reached his ears and the smell of burnt something abused his nostrils. One of Takanori’s iPads sat propped up in front of the third year on the counter with what looked like a recipe for pancakes.
“What the hell are you doing?” Takanori questioned as he inched his way towards what looked like a flour bombsite.
Surprised, Akira spun around to face the little blonde spatula in hand, almost knocking over a glass that sat far too close to the edge of the counter. Fumbling to try and keep the cup on a stable surface Akira dropped his spatula, the metal utensil clattering to the ground. Cursing, the tall blonde bent over to pick it up, only to wack his head on the way back up; a loud yelp escaping his lips as he brought a hand up to rub the abused surface.
Takanori watched the highly comical scene before him with an amused raise of one eyebrow. “You’re an idiot,” he stated, giving the elder boy an incredulous look.
Looking back at the second year, Akira gave Takanori a rather goofy grin as he continued to rub his sore head. Huffing a little laugh he shrugged a pair of broad bare shoulders, “Yeah, I guess so. But at least I’m a nice idiot… Look.” He pointed his spatula at the clean section of counter at the island. Following the directions Takanori looked over and saw a stack of relatively well-cooked pancakes. “They’re for you.” By the look of the kitchen and the pancakes on the place it would appear that it had taken the third year student several attempts to get them right.
Takanori looked back at Akira before quietly shuffling his bare feet across the tiles of the kitchen floor until he reached one of the stools. Plopping down he watched as Akira turned off the stovetop and placed the last pancake on the top of the stack, sliding into the seat next to him.
“I hope it’s alright,” Akira commented absentmindedly as he served two of the freshly cooked pancakes and placed the plate in front of Takanori. “Here.”
Mumbling his thanks Takanori picked up the maple syrup and drizzled it over the top of his food before picking up his knife and fork and cutting into a pancake. He was acutely aware of Akira’s gaze on him as he lifted the slice to his mouth and popped it in, chewing thoughtfully determining whether or not they were sufficiently tasty or not.
“Well…?” Akira prompted.
Glancing at the elder blonde out of the corner of his eye, Takanori ‘hmm’ed’ as he swallowed. “Well, I could’ve done them a lot better… But I guess they’re edible.”
Akira flashed another one of his goofy grins and Takanori stared as the elder served himself up and absolutely drowned his pancakes in syrup. He watch in amusement as Akira fumbled with his knife and fork, struggling to hold them correctly and dropping them a few times. Takanori guessed that he’d never really had to use the foreign utensils as chopsticks were usually the choice of Japanese families. The only reason he knew how to use a knife and fork was because his mother had insisted he learn.
After a few minutes of watching Akira flail with his cutlery Takanori snorted and rolled his eyes. “Here.” He reached out and put his hand over the back of Akira’s, his own small fingers sitting over longer ones. “Like this,” Takanori explained as he adjusted the fork to sit right in Akira’s hand and positioned the elder blonde’s fingers correctly. Once the fork was sitting right Takanori stood up and walked around to the third year’s other side and did the same with his knife, making sure the utensil sat right before picking up the elder’s other hand again and guiding them through the motions of cutting off a piece of food. “There, do you get it now?” Takanori finally pulled his hands away and gazed at Akira.
The elder blonde looked over his shoulder at the second year, a little surprised. The feeling didn’t last long though as he smiled and nodded, “Yeah, thanks.”
Takanori averted his eyes as he felt a small blush rising on his cheeks, realizing he’d just held Akira’s hands. He’d probably performed an action that could be considered somewhat intimate. He didn’t really know though, he wasn’t very experienced in that field at all having never really been around a lot of people. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled as he returned to his own seat to finish eating his breakfast.
Akira had eventually managed to get the hang of using a knife and fork, thanks to Takanori’s help, and after they’d both contributed to clearing up the huge mess Akira had managed to make, the elder blonde had taken a loose hold of Takanori’s thin wrist and pulled him the direction of one of the family rooms towards the front left hand side of the house. Entering the brightly lit room with window walls looking out over a perfectly kept lawn, Akira pulled Takanori over to the white grand piano in the corner and sat the little blonde down on the stool, positioning himself in the armchair just next to it.
Takanori stared at Akira sceptically, “Why are we in here?”
“Why do you think?” Akira smirked and pointed to the piano. “I know you can, so… will you play for me…? Please?”
A look of astonishment passed over Takanori’s features as he stared at the enthusiastic elder blonde. He really wanted to hear Takanori play? Even though he considered himself something of a musician he’d never actually played in front of anyone else before. It was quite a nerve-wracking feeling to have someone expecting him to perform. What would he even play? A cover? One of his originals? What if he turned out to be crap and Akira gave him shit for the entire rest of the time he was there? So many frantic questions ran through the little blondes head.
“Taka,” Akira interrupted his thought process and shifted seats, moving to sit on the piano stool next to Takanori so that their hips brushed together. “Will you please play for me?”
The blonde musician felt a blush creeping its way across his cheeks at the close proximity the two were in. They were sitting so close he could see the little smudge of flour that lingered on Akira’s raised cheekbone that was still bare of the cloth that usually covered it.
Swallowing, Takanori found himself nodding without even knowing why. Did he really want to play for Akira? Or was it just the fact that the elder blonde was sitting so close and clouding his judgment? Either way he’d made his decision and slowly he turned around to face towards the beautiful white instrument, running his hands over the lid before pushing it open and swiping his fingers over the ivory and ebony that lay underneath. He’d always had a particular fondness for that particular piano and yet he had no idea why.
He could feel Akira gaze fixed on his had he contemplated on what to play. Finally settling on a song choice Takanori got his fingers into position and prepared himself to play. Shutting his eyes he took a deep breath and pressed down on the notes that made up the first chords of the song he’d selected. As the melody flowed out of the piano Takanori began to engage more in playing, completely forgetting about Akira’s presence beside him as he lost himself in the freeing feeling of music. He was always like this when he played. He often left reality and entered an entirely different world of his own which was completely devoid of all of the stress that came with everyday life and all of the problems that came along with it. In Takanori’s mind he was no longer in the room in his home with Akira scrutinizing his every move; he was far off in another world. His fingers moved over the keys of the piano without him really needing to think about the notes he played; it was like his well-trained digits just knew where they had to be and when. As the melody finally came to a close Takanori let his fingers linger on the keys in order to let the notes ring out. Opening his eyes he turned to look at Akira who just stared back open-mouthed and seeming to be in a daze.
“Taka…” Akira finally spoke after what felt like forever and Takanori was beginning to thing he sounded like absolute rubbish. However the brilliant smile that broke out across Akira’s face told him otherwise. “That was beautiful! Did you write that?”
Takanori nodded rather shyly, casting his eyes down to stare at the polished keys of the piano. “…Yeah.”
“Wow,” Akira breathed, seeming to take a moment to gather his bearings. “Taka, that was amazing. Really, I wish I could hear you play more often.”
Heat rose on Takanori’s cheeks for what must have been the thousandth time that day. What was it about Akira that had him blushing so easily? Sure, he guessed he had to admit that the tall blonde was quite charming but Takanori had been around plenty of charming people in his life and none of them had managed to woo him successfully. So what was so different about that stupid birdbrain? Perhaps it was because he’d showed Takanori a certain kindness that no one ever had before. Whatever it was, it always managed to make his usually cold heart flutter and heat rise on his pale cheeks.
As Takanori looked back up at Akira he noticed that the same smudge of flour was still sitting on the elder boy’s cheek and it was beginning to get on his neat-freak mind. Without thinking about it much the second year brought his hand up to cup the left side of Akira face so he could wipe away the remnants of the elder’s early cooking with his thumb. Once the flour was gone Takanori appeared to realize exactly what he’d just done and quickly withdrew his hand, mumbling an apology.
Chuckling, Akira shook his head a little, “You’re a lot shyer than I would’ve ever imagined.”
Takanori hazel tinted eyes snapped back to the elder blonde flashing a small amount of annoyance; not because he was angry but because his nervousness had been caught out. “Shut up,” he snapped before continuing in a mumble, “I’m not usually like this.”
“Oh? So it’s only me that makes you like this,” Akira leaned a little closer with a little smile twitching at the corner of his enticing lips and Takanori couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder to stare at the plump flesh for a fraction of a section.
Eyes widened Takanori cursed himself for carelessly throwing out that fact. “No, of course not,” he jumped straight to defensiveness. “I’ve been shy around other people as well. Like…” He tried to think of a few examples but drew a blank every time.
“Like…?” Akira prompted smugly knowing how much the little blonde hated other people which meant that he was most likely never nervous around anyone.
“Like…” Takanori scrunched up his nose in the most adorable way as he wracked his brain for someone to name. “I can’t think of anyone right now, but I have been nervous around other people before so don’t feel too special, ok?”
Akira chuckled, “Right, of course…So, that must mean than someone’s done this before…” Smirking, Akira slipped his hand against Takanori’s waist, feeling the small second year jump at his feather-light touch.
“What are you doing?” Takanori murmured as he tried to pull away from the light touch on his side. His heart thumped like a jackhammer in his chest; he’d never been touched in such a simple affectionate way before. Flinching a little as Akira slipped his other hand against the other side of his small waist, Takanori’s breathing picked up a little. If he’d been nervous before, surely now he would die of a heart attack. He dare not look up at Akira’s face for fear that he may actually pass out.
“Taka, look at me,” Akira spoke softly and the second year could feel the other’s warm breath against his flushed cheek. “Takanori,” the third year lowered his voice as he locked his hands at the small of Takanori’s back, forcing the younger to press against his still bare chest and Takanori was almost certain Akira could feel the frantic beating of his heart.
Slowly the small blonde raised his head to find that he and Akira were nose to nose. So incredibly close he had to cross his eyes slightly to be able to look into the elder’s onyx coloured orbs. His breath shook and his heart thumped as Akira leaned forward; all he could think to himself was ‘no, no, no. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening’. But the scary thing for Takanori was that it was happening, Akira was steadily leaning forward until his lips were just hovering above Takanori’s own trembling ones. His breath hitched in his throat as Akira’s confident lips finally locked with his own. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to accustom himself to the foreign feeling and soon felt himself relaxing into Akira’s grip as the most pleasant feeling overcame him. He could feel the way the elder blonde’s lips moulded to his perfectly and how he didn’t really need to be guided, he just kind of knew what to do. There was no tongue, no sloppy swapping of saliva; just the press of velvet lips against velvet lips. A small hand snuck up at cupped the nape of Akira’s neck as Takanori relaxed into the kiss more, his other hand slaying open on the elder boy’s broad chest.
The kiss was short-lived but a completely blissful experience and when Akira broke the contact just enough to rest his forehead against Takanori’s and the little blonde couldn’t help but let the tiniest of smiles tug at the corners of his lips. When he opened his eyes he saw Akira grinning at him, eyes twinkling.
“Taka,” he said, breath ghosting across Takanori bottom lip, making him shiver slightly. “You’re smiling.”
“… Yeah… I guess I am,” the second year confessed. He felt like his mind was swimming in the most dreamlike state. So much so that he felt a little light-headed and ditzy; very much not like himself.
“You’ve never kissed anyone before, have you?” Akira inquired.
Takanori was quiet for a moment before he gave a small shake of his head. “…No… You could tell? Was I really that terrible?”
The third year laughed haughtily. “No, you were actually pretty good. I just figured you hadn’t. Did you like it though?”
“… Yeah, I did,” Takanori smirked as he leaned forward and locked his lips with Akira’s again, feeling far more comfortable now than before. Kissing was a nice feeling, he could certainly see himself getting used to it even if it was with such a dim-witted birdbrain.
Next Chapter
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A/N: SO. FLUFFY. O.O Ok, now, first I just want to apologize for this chapter being so late D': I know it's been almost a month since I updated any of my MCs and I feel *really* bad. I'm so so so so sorry!! I kind of just hit a roadblock with all of my MCs, but I'm glad I was able to get this one going again ^_^
I feel like things are finally getting interesting and Taka's and Akira's relationship is really sort of starting to kick off. This chapter was ridiculously fluffy >.< ALSO, the part where Taka is playing the piano this is what he was playing ---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFu198vLmqM I didn't want to put a link in the actually story for fear that it would break flow. So here it is if you wanted to give it a listen :)
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, my darlings. As always, thank you to my lovely beta, she did a fantstic job as always <3 Hopefully the next update won't take so long >.<
Author: ravennightmare6
Beta: krasivayadusha
Chapter: 10/18
Genre: AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut
Rating(Overall): NC-17
Pairing/s: Reita/Ruki (Akira/Takanori), Uruha/Aoi (Kouyou/Yuu)
Synopsis: Takanori liked to think that he hated everybody equally. Though, he had to admit, somewhat begrudgingly, that he hated a few less than others.
Warnings: Use of real names, Profanity, Angst
Disclaimer: As unfortunate as it may be, I do not own The GazettE. I only own the plot.
Comments: At the bottom, darlings <3
Previous Chapter
The soft glow of morning sunlight filtered in through the cracks between the curtain and the dark painted walls indicating the sun had risen well into the sky. However, the pair huddled in the bed didn’t shift from their position as the early morning hours slowly ticked by. The night had been calm and comfortable for both of them; their bodies seeming to fit perfectly together like puzzle pieces, as cliché as that was in both of their minds. Neither of them had moved an inch since they’d fallen asleep; arms stayed linked around a thin, lithe waist, a hand delicately curled against a strong chest, legs tangled together under the thick duvet. Perfectly comfortable, neither of them wanted to move an inch.
Akira had been awake for maybe an hour or so. Slowly coming back into consciousness he glanced down to look at the small blonde curled against him whose features looked less strained as he slept, ‘much more beautiful’, Akira thought. Smiling softly, the third year gently pressed his nose to the crown to Takanori’s head to inhale the second year’s intoxicating scent. Takanori smelled strangely like cinnamon with a hint of… caramel? An odd combination, but Akira liked it. Tightening his arms slightly, the elder gingerly pressed his lips lightly against bleached blonde strands of hair. He pulled away a little when Takanori shifted in his grasp, concerned he’d roused the sleeping blonde from his peaceful slumber. However, Takanori sighed contently as he nuzzled Akira’s bare neck, continuing to sleep soundly.
For Akira, it was like some kind of really crazy, unbelievable dream. Never in his wildest fantasies had he imagined that he would eventually be sharing a bed with someone he’d despised so intensely, let alone actually enjoy being entwined so intimately with the other boy, loving the way that thin little frame moulded to his own; every curve and every angle slotting against his own frame perfectly. Come to think of it, he didn’t even remember why he had hated the second year so much. His guessed it was because Takanori had been the only person to ever refuse his advances; back then Akira had been a different person, far more arrogant and unpleasant. The tall blonde had been through changes of his own however Takanori seemed to still loath the old Akira. Maybe, he contemplated, that’s why the second year hated him so; because of the person he used to be. But he wasn’t that person anymore. Akira found that every day since he’d moved into the enormous, at least by his standards, home Takanori seemed to amaze him. Every day he would learn something new about the smaller boy and every day he would find himself liking Takanori more and more. Really, the little blonde was anything but the dull, arsehole Akira had thought he was to begin with. He was complex, sensitive, and a hell of a lot nicer than most other people thought. Even though most couldn’t see through that thick skin the second year wore, Akira could; as could Aoi, he guessed. Akira wondered endlessly what it would take to get Takanori to finally open up completely and let people in. He got that it’d take a while, but he still had no clue as to how to really approach the situation.
Slipping his eyes shut again Akira listened to Takanori’s even breaths, enjoying the soothing effect they had. The little blonde shifted his hips slightly, hooking his leg up slightly between Akira’s while the other lay underneath one of the elder’s. Akita could feel that the bottom hem of his sweat pants had slightly ridden up sometime during the night when he felt Takanori’s smooth, hairless skin brush against his own hairier calves. A tingling sensation spread through him at the skin to skin contact and the elder couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to run his calloused fingers over that silky surface. Not in any way that was sexual; he just wanted to feel Takanori, feel his skin, his warmth, and be close to him. He smiled as he could only imagine what the smaller boy’s velvety flesh would feel like under his fingertips.
Nuzzling his head into the crook of Akira’s neck a little more, Takanori’s quiet breaths began to pick up ever so slightly, indicating that the little blonde was beginning to wake up. The fingers that rested against the bare skin of the tall blonde’s back tightened into a small fist. Slowly coming back into consciousness Takanori yawned, his warm breath tickling Akira’s neck and sending a pleasant chill up the tall blonde’s spine. The elder boy waited patiently for the smaller to awaken and to most likely be kicked out of the room, seeing as Takanori had come back to his right mind. Akira imagined that there would be no way Takanori would let him stay now that he was no longer upset and in need of comfort; he’d figured out that the second year’s mind functioned in that fashion.
With a groan Takanori opened his eyes, glancing around tiredly. His room was lit with a small amount of dull sunlight. He shifted slightly, finally noticing that his entire lithe frame was pressed against another stronger, bare-chested one. Instantly his heartbeat sped up. There was only one person who could’ve possibly been there with him and, in a flash, he remembered the previous day’s events and how he’d asked Akira to stay with him. Taking a quiet, shaky breath he tried to relax again. As much as he would have liked to deny it, the feeling of being locked in the third year’s tight embrace felt nice; really, really nice. It was comfortable and warm and he felt like he belonged there. Immediately he felt a heated blush climb it’s up to his cheeks. Luckily his face was hidden in the juncture between Akira’s shoulder and neck, otherwise he surely would’ve been made fun of by the birdbrain who seemed to enjoy making him look like a fool whenever the chance arose.
‘Maybe,’ thought Takanori, ‘He’ll think I’m still asleep if I stay really, really still-’
“Morning, Taka,” Akira’s gruff morning voice cut off the little blonde’s thoughts. There was no doubt that the tall blonde sounded incredibly sexy; the roughness making his baritone voice sound even deeper than usual and it sent a pleasant chill down Takanori’s spine, raising goosebumps on his skin.
Lifting his head slightly, the little blonde glanced up at Akira who had pulled his head away a little so he could see Takanori properly. “Morning,” his own voice was gruff, but didn’t have the same sexy undertone as Akira’s did.
A small smile graced Akira’s lips as he seemed to stare adoringly at Takanori and the small blonde found himself unable to look Akira in the eye as his heart sped up again, feeling like there was a hummingbird caught in his chest. Why was he suddenly so nervous? Maybe it was because he noticed how close their faces really were and how easy it’d be for Akira to just lean down and kiss him. Takanori eyes widened as he wondered where that thought had even come from. He didn’t want to kiss Akira. Not at all. Not even in the slightest…
Nope.
“Did you sleep ok?” For the second time that morning Akira derailed Takanori’s train of thought.
The small blonde’s attention snapped back to the third year in front of his as he slowly nodded, casting his eyes down. “Yeah… better than I have been lately…” He glanced up through his lashes feeling his cheeks heat up again. “… Thanks Akira.”
“It was my pleasure,” the blonde commented easily, the simple statement making Takanori’s heart flutter a little.
Silence settled around the pair for a while but it wasn’t long before Takanori felt Akira shift slightly and then there was the foreign feeling of fingers stroking through his messed blonde hair. At the rate he was going he was positive his heart was going to leap out of his chest; Akira really wasn’t very good for his health.
“Akira…” Takanori whispered, frozen and unable to look into the elder boy’s eyes, instead focusing on the bare chest in front of him which really wasn’t making him feel much better at all. “… What are you doing?”
A deep rumble rolled through Akira’s chest, the vibrations hitting Takanori’s cheek. “Nothing,” he answered, his tone playfully sarcastic. “I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.”
Takanori scoffed, giving the elder’s firm chest a soft wack with his small fist, “Shut up, idiot.”
Akira laughed softly again before the quiet took over again. Takanori began to relax as Akira’s long fingers continued to stroke comfortingly through the strands of his heavily bleached blonde hair. It was unbelievably comfortable, Takanori thought, to be there with Akira. As much as he’d initially despised the senior he’d somehow managed to grow attached to him over the time they’d spent together and, not that he knew Akira wasn’t all he seemed to be, the second year student found himself liking Akira far more than he’d ever thought he would. If someone had told him three months ago that Akira would grow to be one of the closest people to him he’d have given that person a nice fat lip and told them they were completely fucking insane.
“Hey, Taka,” Akira’s quiet voice interrupted his thoughts. Glancing up at the elder blonde who was also staring down at him he ‘hmm’ed indicating that he was listening. Fingers still stroking soft hair, he sighed, “I’m really sorry about yesterday.”
Takanori groaned and pushed his hand against the tall blonde’s chest so he could lean back and sit up a little, breaking their contact. With a frown creasing his brow he rolled his eyes, “Oh, my God, Akira. Just drop it already, would you? I already told you its fine.”
“You clearly weren’t fine yesterday,” Akira retorted.
Glaring, Takanori sat up straight, completely breaking their intimate embrace, and pulling the covers off both of them. “Drop it, Akira. It’s over and done with, alright?”
“Drop it? You want me to drop it?” Akira mimicked Takanori and sat up next to him, hair sticking out at odd angles. The elder blonde was quickly becoming irritated. All he did was apologize and Takanori was suddenly getting all defensive.
“Yes, I want you to drop it.”
“Well I can’t, ok?” Akira growled. “Not after how you acted yesterday. Why can’t you just let me apologize and make it up to you? Why can’t you actually open up and maybe, I don’t know here’s a crazy idea, tell me why you were like that!” Running a hand through his dishevelled hair he scoffed in mock amusement. “You run off almost in tears, then ask me to stay in your freaking bed with you and then you won’t even tell me what’s going on. Not one single skerrick of an explanation. I get that your parents are a tender subject for you; I understand that, I do. But you have to tell me why. You can’t lock people out forever, Takanori.”
The entire time Akira spoke Takanori was rapidly growing angrier and angrier. He clearly had no idea how hard it was for the small blonde to even consider telling him what was going on, let alone actually do it. Takanori scowled, “Well it’s worked for me so far.”
“It won’t work for much longer. You can’t just stay locked up in your own little world, Taka-”
“No, Akira,” Takanori abruptly cut him off, throwing the covers away and untangling the pair’s legs as he stood up, hair dishevelled, legs shown off my a pair of short silk pyjama bottoms and oversized sweatshirt hanging off his shoulder to reveal beautifully smooth, pale skin. If he weren’t so angry, Akira would’ve thought he looked gorgeous. “We are not having this conversation right now,” the little blonde snapped as he began pacing towards the door, small bare feet shuffling silently along the carpet.
“Takanori, wait!” Akira scrambled to get out of bed as the smaller boy reached the door. “We aren’t done talking.”
“Yes we are. Now leave me alone.” Akira thumped to the floor, legs still caught up in the crisp white sheets as Takanori slammed the door shut.
Storming down the hallway Takanori stomped passed the staircase and over to the other side of the second level to the door of his recording studio. Slamming the wood shut and locking it behind him the little blonde flicked on the light before plopping down in his desk chair.
While waiting for his expensive computer equipment to start up Takanori leaned back and swivelled around in his chair a few times, reflecting on the previous day. Akira really was the opposite of what he’d thought this whole time. The elder blonde’s home had come as a huge shock to him, and not just the loving relationship he appeared to share with his mother and his sister that Takanori so enviously regarded. But the walk the tall blonde had to make just to get to and from school. Takanori wondered if he had to walk all that way every day; suddenly the twenty measly minutes he had to stroll to get to the place he considered hell didn’t really seem so bad.
He felt as if he’d been incredibly rude, really. Akira had trusted him enough to bring him home and introduce him his mother and sister and all Takanori had done was freeze up. Granted, it wasn’t something he could really control, but he felt like he should’ve been more polite. Guilt built up in the pit of his stomach as he realized that he didn’t know when Akira would see his family again. Sure, he could always go and visit but it was an hour and a half walk away and the pair of them had school and assignments and homework. Takanori felt as if he were taking Akira away from his mother and his sister who probably needed him a lot more than Takanori did. It would’ve been a huge understatement to say that he was feeling quite selfish.
With a sigh he turned in the chair and picked up his favourite cherry red guitar and placed it atop his leg. Hooking it up to the newly loaded computer he opened up his editing program and hit the record button, intending to get down a new track he’d been working on. Takanori was thankful the bruise on his wrist had finally faded enough that he could play again; he had a lot of recording he needed to catch up, Akira managing to make him miss a few of his personal deadlines.
***
After clearing his head by taking a good three or four hours to track the guitar and bass for his new song, Takanori had returned to his room to find his bed absent of any birdbrained third years. Assuming the elder boy had merely retreated to his own room across the hallway, Takanori quickly slipped off to have a shower, enjoying the relaxation the hot beads of water brought him.
Freshly showered and feeling like he was in a far better mood, Takanori changed into a pair of tight fitting black jeans and a baggy red and black plaid shirt. With a towel draped over his shoulders to stop his hair from dripping onto his clothes Takanori exited his room in search of nourishment. Entering the kitchen his jaw dropped at the sight of Akira leaned over the stove top, flour clearly smeared across his hands and forearms, the tall blonde had also managed to get it over the countertop. A few broken eggshells sat on the counter, Takanori spying an egg yolk on the floor not too far away from Akira’s bare feet. The sound of sizzling reached his ears and the smell of burnt something abused his nostrils. One of Takanori’s iPads sat propped up in front of the third year on the counter with what looked like a recipe for pancakes.
“What the hell are you doing?” Takanori questioned as he inched his way towards what looked like a flour bombsite.
Surprised, Akira spun around to face the little blonde spatula in hand, almost knocking over a glass that sat far too close to the edge of the counter. Fumbling to try and keep the cup on a stable surface Akira dropped his spatula, the metal utensil clattering to the ground. Cursing, the tall blonde bent over to pick it up, only to wack his head on the way back up; a loud yelp escaping his lips as he brought a hand up to rub the abused surface.
Takanori watched the highly comical scene before him with an amused raise of one eyebrow. “You’re an idiot,” he stated, giving the elder boy an incredulous look.
Looking back at the second year, Akira gave Takanori a rather goofy grin as he continued to rub his sore head. Huffing a little laugh he shrugged a pair of broad bare shoulders, “Yeah, I guess so. But at least I’m a nice idiot… Look.” He pointed his spatula at the clean section of counter at the island. Following the directions Takanori looked over and saw a stack of relatively well-cooked pancakes. “They’re for you.” By the look of the kitchen and the pancakes on the place it would appear that it had taken the third year student several attempts to get them right.
Takanori looked back at Akira before quietly shuffling his bare feet across the tiles of the kitchen floor until he reached one of the stools. Plopping down he watched as Akira turned off the stovetop and placed the last pancake on the top of the stack, sliding into the seat next to him.
“I hope it’s alright,” Akira commented absentmindedly as he served two of the freshly cooked pancakes and placed the plate in front of Takanori. “Here.”
Mumbling his thanks Takanori picked up the maple syrup and drizzled it over the top of his food before picking up his knife and fork and cutting into a pancake. He was acutely aware of Akira’s gaze on him as he lifted the slice to his mouth and popped it in, chewing thoughtfully determining whether or not they were sufficiently tasty or not.
“Well…?” Akira prompted.
Glancing at the elder blonde out of the corner of his eye, Takanori ‘hmm’ed’ as he swallowed. “Well, I could’ve done them a lot better… But I guess they’re edible.”
Akira flashed another one of his goofy grins and Takanori stared as the elder served himself up and absolutely drowned his pancakes in syrup. He watch in amusement as Akira fumbled with his knife and fork, struggling to hold them correctly and dropping them a few times. Takanori guessed that he’d never really had to use the foreign utensils as chopsticks were usually the choice of Japanese families. The only reason he knew how to use a knife and fork was because his mother had insisted he learn.
After a few minutes of watching Akira flail with his cutlery Takanori snorted and rolled his eyes. “Here.” He reached out and put his hand over the back of Akira’s, his own small fingers sitting over longer ones. “Like this,” Takanori explained as he adjusted the fork to sit right in Akira’s hand and positioned the elder blonde’s fingers correctly. Once the fork was sitting right Takanori stood up and walked around to the third year’s other side and did the same with his knife, making sure the utensil sat right before picking up the elder’s other hand again and guiding them through the motions of cutting off a piece of food. “There, do you get it now?” Takanori finally pulled his hands away and gazed at Akira.
The elder blonde looked over his shoulder at the second year, a little surprised. The feeling didn’t last long though as he smiled and nodded, “Yeah, thanks.”
Takanori averted his eyes as he felt a small blush rising on his cheeks, realizing he’d just held Akira’s hands. He’d probably performed an action that could be considered somewhat intimate. He didn’t really know though, he wasn’t very experienced in that field at all having never really been around a lot of people. “You’re welcome,” he mumbled as he returned to his own seat to finish eating his breakfast.
Akira had eventually managed to get the hang of using a knife and fork, thanks to Takanori’s help, and after they’d both contributed to clearing up the huge mess Akira had managed to make, the elder blonde had taken a loose hold of Takanori’s thin wrist and pulled him the direction of one of the family rooms towards the front left hand side of the house. Entering the brightly lit room with window walls looking out over a perfectly kept lawn, Akira pulled Takanori over to the white grand piano in the corner and sat the little blonde down on the stool, positioning himself in the armchair just next to it.
Takanori stared at Akira sceptically, “Why are we in here?”
“Why do you think?” Akira smirked and pointed to the piano. “I know you can, so… will you play for me…? Please?”
A look of astonishment passed over Takanori’s features as he stared at the enthusiastic elder blonde. He really wanted to hear Takanori play? Even though he considered himself something of a musician he’d never actually played in front of anyone else before. It was quite a nerve-wracking feeling to have someone expecting him to perform. What would he even play? A cover? One of his originals? What if he turned out to be crap and Akira gave him shit for the entire rest of the time he was there? So many frantic questions ran through the little blondes head.
“Taka,” Akira interrupted his thought process and shifted seats, moving to sit on the piano stool next to Takanori so that their hips brushed together. “Will you please play for me?”
The blonde musician felt a blush creeping its way across his cheeks at the close proximity the two were in. They were sitting so close he could see the little smudge of flour that lingered on Akira’s raised cheekbone that was still bare of the cloth that usually covered it.
Swallowing, Takanori found himself nodding without even knowing why. Did he really want to play for Akira? Or was it just the fact that the elder blonde was sitting so close and clouding his judgment? Either way he’d made his decision and slowly he turned around to face towards the beautiful white instrument, running his hands over the lid before pushing it open and swiping his fingers over the ivory and ebony that lay underneath. He’d always had a particular fondness for that particular piano and yet he had no idea why.
He could feel Akira gaze fixed on his had he contemplated on what to play. Finally settling on a song choice Takanori got his fingers into position and prepared himself to play. Shutting his eyes he took a deep breath and pressed down on the notes that made up the first chords of the song he’d selected. As the melody flowed out of the piano Takanori began to engage more in playing, completely forgetting about Akira’s presence beside him as he lost himself in the freeing feeling of music. He was always like this when he played. He often left reality and entered an entirely different world of his own which was completely devoid of all of the stress that came with everyday life and all of the problems that came along with it. In Takanori’s mind he was no longer in the room in his home with Akira scrutinizing his every move; he was far off in another world. His fingers moved over the keys of the piano without him really needing to think about the notes he played; it was like his well-trained digits just knew where they had to be and when. As the melody finally came to a close Takanori let his fingers linger on the keys in order to let the notes ring out. Opening his eyes he turned to look at Akira who just stared back open-mouthed and seeming to be in a daze.
“Taka…” Akira finally spoke after what felt like forever and Takanori was beginning to thing he sounded like absolute rubbish. However the brilliant smile that broke out across Akira’s face told him otherwise. “That was beautiful! Did you write that?”
Takanori nodded rather shyly, casting his eyes down to stare at the polished keys of the piano. “…Yeah.”
“Wow,” Akira breathed, seeming to take a moment to gather his bearings. “Taka, that was amazing. Really, I wish I could hear you play more often.”
Heat rose on Takanori’s cheeks for what must have been the thousandth time that day. What was it about Akira that had him blushing so easily? Sure, he guessed he had to admit that the tall blonde was quite charming but Takanori had been around plenty of charming people in his life and none of them had managed to woo him successfully. So what was so different about that stupid birdbrain? Perhaps it was because he’d showed Takanori a certain kindness that no one ever had before. Whatever it was, it always managed to make his usually cold heart flutter and heat rise on his pale cheeks.
As Takanori looked back up at Akira he noticed that the same smudge of flour was still sitting on the elder boy’s cheek and it was beginning to get on his neat-freak mind. Without thinking about it much the second year brought his hand up to cup the left side of Akira face so he could wipe away the remnants of the elder’s early cooking with his thumb. Once the flour was gone Takanori appeared to realize exactly what he’d just done and quickly withdrew his hand, mumbling an apology.
Chuckling, Akira shook his head a little, “You’re a lot shyer than I would’ve ever imagined.”
Takanori hazel tinted eyes snapped back to the elder blonde flashing a small amount of annoyance; not because he was angry but because his nervousness had been caught out. “Shut up,” he snapped before continuing in a mumble, “I’m not usually like this.”
“Oh? So it’s only me that makes you like this,” Akira leaned a little closer with a little smile twitching at the corner of his enticing lips and Takanori couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder to stare at the plump flesh for a fraction of a section.
Eyes widened Takanori cursed himself for carelessly throwing out that fact. “No, of course not,” he jumped straight to defensiveness. “I’ve been shy around other people as well. Like…” He tried to think of a few examples but drew a blank every time.
“Like…?” Akira prompted smugly knowing how much the little blonde hated other people which meant that he was most likely never nervous around anyone.
“Like…” Takanori scrunched up his nose in the most adorable way as he wracked his brain for someone to name. “I can’t think of anyone right now, but I have been nervous around other people before so don’t feel too special, ok?”
Akira chuckled, “Right, of course…So, that must mean than someone’s done this before…” Smirking, Akira slipped his hand against Takanori’s waist, feeling the small second year jump at his feather-light touch.
“What are you doing?” Takanori murmured as he tried to pull away from the light touch on his side. His heart thumped like a jackhammer in his chest; he’d never been touched in such a simple affectionate way before. Flinching a little as Akira slipped his other hand against the other side of his small waist, Takanori’s breathing picked up a little. If he’d been nervous before, surely now he would die of a heart attack. He dare not look up at Akira’s face for fear that he may actually pass out.
“Taka, look at me,” Akira spoke softly and the second year could feel the other’s warm breath against his flushed cheek. “Takanori,” the third year lowered his voice as he locked his hands at the small of Takanori’s back, forcing the younger to press against his still bare chest and Takanori was almost certain Akira could feel the frantic beating of his heart.
Slowly the small blonde raised his head to find that he and Akira were nose to nose. So incredibly close he had to cross his eyes slightly to be able to look into the elder’s onyx coloured orbs. His breath shook and his heart thumped as Akira leaned forward; all he could think to himself was ‘no, no, no. This isn’t happening, this isn’t happening’. But the scary thing for Takanori was that it was happening, Akira was steadily leaning forward until his lips were just hovering above Takanori’s own trembling ones. His breath hitched in his throat as Akira’s confident lips finally locked with his own. Squeezing his eyes shut he tried to accustom himself to the foreign feeling and soon felt himself relaxing into Akira’s grip as the most pleasant feeling overcame him. He could feel the way the elder blonde’s lips moulded to his perfectly and how he didn’t really need to be guided, he just kind of knew what to do. There was no tongue, no sloppy swapping of saliva; just the press of velvet lips against velvet lips. A small hand snuck up at cupped the nape of Akira’s neck as Takanori relaxed into the kiss more, his other hand slaying open on the elder boy’s broad chest.
The kiss was short-lived but a completely blissful experience and when Akira broke the contact just enough to rest his forehead against Takanori’s and the little blonde couldn’t help but let the tiniest of smiles tug at the corners of his lips. When he opened his eyes he saw Akira grinning at him, eyes twinkling.
“Taka,” he said, breath ghosting across Takanori bottom lip, making him shiver slightly. “You’re smiling.”
“… Yeah… I guess I am,” the second year confessed. He felt like his mind was swimming in the most dreamlike state. So much so that he felt a little light-headed and ditzy; very much not like himself.
“You’ve never kissed anyone before, have you?” Akira inquired.
Takanori was quiet for a moment before he gave a small shake of his head. “…No… You could tell? Was I really that terrible?”
The third year laughed haughtily. “No, you were actually pretty good. I just figured you hadn’t. Did you like it though?”
“… Yeah, I did,” Takanori smirked as he leaned forward and locked his lips with Akira’s again, feeling far more comfortable now than before. Kissing was a nice feeling, he could certainly see himself getting used to it even if it was with such a dim-witted birdbrain.
Next Chapter
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A/N: SO. FLUFFY. O.O Ok, now, first I just want to apologize for this chapter being so late D': I know it's been almost a month since I updated any of my MCs and I feel *really* bad. I'm so so so so sorry!! I kind of just hit a roadblock with all of my MCs, but I'm glad I was able to get this one going again ^_^
I feel like things are finally getting interesting and Taka's and Akira's relationship is really sort of starting to kick off. This chapter was ridiculously fluffy >.< ALSO, the part where Taka is playing the piano this is what he was playing ---> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pFu198vLmqM I didn't want to put a link in the actually story for fear that it would break flow. So here it is if you wanted to give it a listen :)
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, my darlings. As always, thank you to my lovely beta, she did a fantstic job as always <3 Hopefully the next update won't take so long >.<