[Ficolate Fic] Sweet treat for alienashi
For: alienashi
From: Cupid-san
~~♥~~
Title: So over the rocker phase
Pairings/Characters: Ryo/Ueda
Rating: R
Warnings: Purposefully comical use of cameos and dramatic moments ;D
Notes: I’m not too familiar with the setting, so I hope this is fine. Dear alienashi, I wanted to write you something pretty and subtle, but what came out is just these boys being silly and stubborn. I hope you’ll still like it.
Summary: Ueda feels pretty safe, playing in a good club, having his own faithful audience. When a new musician is hired, the competition is on!
Thursday
02:30 am
MayoandMusic: Where are you? I’ve been offered a new job. I think I’ll take it. I went to look around the place tonight, but the boss was acting kind of funny. He kept rushing me around.
02:56 am
MayoandMusic: Went for a drink afterwards. There was a live music at that bar. The singer looked like a girl. It was distracting.
03:30 am
MayoandMusic: Ah, this is no fun. Where are you, you dog freak? Are you out on a midnight stroll with your herd again? I’m going to bed.
4:20 am
Ueda comes home way too late that night. The show was good, but he had a weird feeling all evening long, and he ended up lagging behind, retuning all of his guitars, watching Nakamaru wipe the bar clean-polishing it until Ueda felt he might go blind from its gleam. He had a shot of whiskey, but decided against getting drunk simply because of feeling anxious. He’s been out of his hard rocker phase for some time now, after all. It just meant drinking a lot to forget his insecurities, anyway.
4:35 am
10shi: I had a long night. You’re going to work at a place where they keep secrets from you right from the start? You thought he was pretty, admit it! Who told you to spam my chat box while I’m not here? It’s your own doing.
11:30 am
MayoandMusic: If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a stripper or a sex line operator.
2:56 pm
10shi: Are you sure you do know better? ;D
Saturday
Ueda’s bar has been his own territory for a while now. The audience here watched him grow out of his blond and mysterious phase, into his dark, rockish cool phase, and then grow some more into the confident musician who can sing just about anything on stage, choosing his persona depending on the audience and the mood, but staying comfortable under the gazes that used to make him almost cry, and had not once, in the past, succeeded. In a way, maybe he has become too comfortable here, working his turf.
That is what the owner of Nagase shack, tells him that Saturday, half an hour before he’s to go on stage. Nagase introduces him to his new colleague a minute later, before Ueda even manages to close his mouth in shock.
The guy-small, dark and cocky-smirks.
“Fishlips, show me what you’ve got,” he says, when the club owner goes to check on the bar, leaving a baffled Ueda behind.
It’s not like they‘ve never had guest appearances. Ueda needs his days off, and sometimes vacations, and it’s good to switch it up. They have live music six days a week, and Ueda doesn’t mind not having his weekends. Well, not having them exactly when everyone else is having them. Apparently that’s all about to change. With two regular performers, Ueda is to get three full nights for himself and share another three nights with this guy.
Yes, Ueda’s been playing from six pm till two am every night, and he needs to be there almost an hour earlier to get ready, but he never complains. He doesn’t want to leave the stage just when the mood is right, to make room for someone else due to some stupid rotation, and doesn’t want to work out some kind of schedule with this guy, who-by the looks of it, will play some bubblegum pop. The bar has always been packed thanks to good music and strong drinks, no cheating with ice and poor cocktail ingredients. Do they really need the new crowd this man would surely bring?
What is his name, anyway?
“If this is how you entertain the crowd, no wonder I’m here,” the guy says into the now long lasting silence, and Ueda remembers.
“Nishikido Ryo,” he mutters.
“That is my name, but you can call me Ryo,” the man grins. “I’ll call you Ueda. Tatsuya’s too much bother.”
Ueda glares, but remembers to be composed; something about good work relationships.
“I’ll show you around later, but I need to be on stage in,” Ueda looks at the clock and curses the boss and every deity there is to curse, “five minutes.”
“You can give me a tour before we switch,” Ryo shrugs. “Until then, show me my competition!” He adds and leaves the room.
Ueda finds him in the audience, front row, a glass of vodka set on the small round table in front of him and dark gaze fixed on Ueda the moment he comes out. Ueda feels so much younger that night.
Nagase is right. He did get too comfortable.
Sunday
4:30 am
10shi: Okay, gym and dogs didn’t help. I’m still mad. Maybe a little disappointed. Boss says we need new blood at my work place. So this new guy waltzes in, shows off, makes me look like a weakling. I totally let it get to me, but that was the last time. We’re so on!
4:37 am
MayoandMusic: Just go to sleep. Kick ass next time.
10shi: What’s your excuse to be up? You bet I will.
MayoandMusic: I’ve got a lot to think about.
10shi: What are you thinking about?
MayoandMusic: Just things . . .
2:36 pm.
10shi: Fell asleep on my screen. Sorry.
5:30 pm
Ueda is out for blood the next time he meets Nishikido. The word got out, the bar has a new singer and the bar is buzzing with excitement. Ryo walks in with a swagger and pokes Ueda about his jeans and stupidly long sweater. And then he has opinions on the schedule Ueda proposes.
When he finally leaves for the day, it’s not before twirling a strand of Ueda’s hair around his finger.
“See you later, pretty,” he says.
Ueda wonders how come the man walked out without a black eye.
Wednesday
3:30 am
10shi: This guy is insufferable. We can’t even agree on a rotation system. It’s like he’s opposing everything and anything I do on purpose.
MayoandMusic: Hello to you too. Are you sure you’re not just being a drama queen because he ruffled your feathers?
10shi: I AM NOT! I’m a professional.
MayoandMusic: LOL
10shi: You sound just like him right now. I can hear you smirking.
MayoandMusic: You never heard me smirking.
10shi: Are you trying to piss me off too?
MayoandMusic: Okay, I’ll be your agony aunt. What did he do, that jerk? ;D
10shi: Never mind. I’m over it. I punched the sand bag in my entry hall really hard. I think I need to sneak his photo and stick it onto it for better effect.
MayoandMusic: Taking pictures? What are you, a secret admirer?
10shi: I really do not like your choice of words.
MayoandMusic: :DDDDDD Alright then, I’m sending you this song I like.
10shi: Not another Saito Kazuyoshi song, please.
MayoandMusic: No, I know a lost case when I see one. But you don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll promise you’ll like it.
MayoandMusic: So? Did you like it?
10shi: Hmmm . . . kind of?
MayoandMusic: You liked it :DDD
10shi: Do you have more?
MayoandMusic: Sending it your way.
10shi: The bass line isn’t half bad.
MayoandMusic: I know right? I also like the tempo gradation.
MayoandMusic: Over your annoying colleague now?
10shi: Thanks!
Wednesday, 11:30 pm
Admittedly, it’s nice to have a break longer than ten minutes tops, just enough to run to the bathroom and gulp down some water or food. It still takes Ueda more than a week to sit down at the back of the room, in the darkest chair of the bar and listen to Nishikido Ryo properly.
“Stop frowning. It looks scary,” Nakamaru tells Ueda after a song.
“I’m just thinking,” Ueda replies, grabbing a glass from the shelf he can reach and letting Nakamaru pour him a glass of whiskey.
“It’s not a competition, you know,” Nakamaru says after another song that gets the crowd applauding rather noisily.
“But it is,” Ueda mutters.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Nakamaru shrugs and rushes off to wipe the circles of water where someone wasn’t careful with their drinks on the other side of the bar.
Two songs later, Ueda finds himself tapping his foot against the wooden floor while Nishikido Ryo belts out a heartfelt ballad that has a really nice rhythm in the background. He can play guitar, that’s for sure. Ueda adds one more hour of practice to his daily schedule.
Saturday
2:45 am
MayoandMusic: SO are you ever going to tell me what it is you do?
10shi: Why should I? It’s not like I know what you do, anyway.
MayoandMusic: I’ll tell you if you tell me.
10shi: I don’t want to. It doesn’t matter.
MayoandMusic: Maybe you’re a serial killer luring me in.
10shi: All this chatting, that would be way too much effort for one kill, don’t you think?
MayoandMusic: Angel-chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan
10shi: Stop calling me that!
MayoandMusic: You chose that username. But I’m curious, I can only catch you online after midnight, not even on weekends. And you hardly ever post these days, so the hints are few and far in between.
10shi: Well, I just like to be mysterious. Deal with it. It’s not like I ask you why you’re still up this hour. My username is just play on some numbers. You know this!
MayoandMusic: Fine, I’ll figure it out on my own. I have a few ideas already. ;DDD
10shi: I’m not a stripper!!!
MayoandMusic: But wouldn’t that be very mysterious . . . if, you know, you forget about all the revealing aspects of the job. The username would fit. Is that your stage name?
10shi: I think I’m just going to go to bed now. I have my first free Saturday in forever tomorrow. I don’t want to waste it.
MayoandMusic: I’m jealous!
Saturday, 9:00 pm
The bar is packed and Ueda thinks the hoodie and the baggy clothes as a disguise weren’t even necessary. There’s no way anyone will spot him in this crowd. Come to think of it, it really is so thick.
“The new guy’s pretty good,” a man standing to the side of Ueda mutters.
“I wonder what the pretty one is doing, I like him more. Plus the squealing from the girls is annoying,” his friend shouts back.
“Liar, you were trying to score some at the bar. I saw you.”
They both laugh and Ueda feels a little sick. But then Ryo starts on another song and Ueda only watches him, concentrating, forgetting everyone around him.
This is for research. He wants to know how Nishikido is when Ueda isn’t there, what kind of songs he’s hiding from him. Ueda gets so pulled in that he startles when suddenly the crowd around him moves in every direction, intermission pulling some to the bar, some outside for a breath of fresh air . . .
“I see you just can’t live without me,” someone whispers into his ear when he finally manages to shake himself out of his reverie.
Ueda doesn’t shriek, but it’s a close thing.
“Nishikido,” he manages in a cool tone.
Ryo pulls on his sleeve. “The least I can do for such a devoted fan is to buy him a drink,” he says and heads for the bar.
“I’m not here for you,” Ueda frees his hand and stops walking.
Ryo tilts his head. “And I would swear I saw you tapping your foot, all into my song,” he says, smirking.
“I just want to know my enemy,” Ueda mutters.
“I could show you some tricks,” Ryo ignores the remark. “You know, how to play some things, and how to act to get girls hooked on you. It’s all about timing and fanservice.” He sounds excited at the prospect.
“I don’t need that,” Ueda huffs.
“But it’s fun,” Ryo tries to pull him towards the bar.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?”
Ueda refuses to be seen by Nakamaru or by Kame, who’s always helping on the weekends. Nakamaru would give him knowing looks and Kame would overanalyze it.
Saturday
11:49 pm
10shi: Where are you? I thought I was the one never here before midnight.
11:53 pm
10shi: Are you out biting girls in the clubs again?
Sunday
00:30 am
10shi: So much for getting my mind off things. I’m off to bed.
Sunday
3:15 am
MayoandMusic: You’re not the only one with mysterious night activities. I’m sorry I left you lonely though! ;D
Thursday
4:00 am
MayoandMusic: So how’s your new colleague?
10shi: I don’t want to talk about it. How’s your new job?
MayoandMusic: It’s great! You know, I’m getting to know people. But I’m awesome, so everybody loves me.
10shi: You sure have the confidence for it.
MayoandMusic: I just know how good I am. So how is he?
10shi: You only hope I’ll slip and tell you what I’m doing.
MayoandMusic: That’s what you said :D Fine, next topic. I know this bar. The name’s really lame though.
10shi: It’s just, it makes me tired thinking about it. He keeps bugging me, inviting me for drinks, giving me pointers on my work, challenging me to do things, whining about what I wear. I just want him to go away.
MayoandMusic: He sounds like he likes you :DDDD
10shi: Or like he wants to make my life a living hell.
MayoandMusic: You’re not having fun?
10shi: I just want my peace back.
Tuesday, 2:15 am
“So where should we go to get wasted properly?” Nishikido asks from the doorway, watching Ueda pack.
“Why are you still here, you’ve finished playing three hours ago.” Ueda growls from where he’s zipping up his guitar.
“I told you, I want to have a drink.” Ryo crosses his arms on his chest and steps into Ueda’s way out.
“Not going to happen,” Ueda feels like a broken record.
“Stop being stupid,” Nishikido huffs, losing his cool for a moment.
“Stop calling me stupid,” Ueda retorts. “I’m tired,” he adds, a little less heated.
“Well, I’m tired of trying to be friendly,” Nishikido whispers.
Ueda makes a point of rolling his eyes. “You just want to mess with my head.”
Nishikido doesn’t stop him when Ueda tries to leave this time.
Tuesday, 2:55 am
Ueda comes home, but he can’t sleep. He pulls the guitar he brought back home from its case. Living in an attic of a ramen shop means it’s no problem practicing in the strange hours of the night. One of his labs settles at Ueda’s feet, and he almost misses the piece of paper that falls out of the guitar case.
It’s a different arrangement of a song he’s been playing the past two weeks. He’s been kind of testing it on the audience, still changing things around. But this version isn’t one of his own. It’s not hard to recognize the handwriting. If you share a dressing room with a person who leaves lyrics sheets everywhere, you remember the writing pretty soon.
Ueda throws the arrangement out, stomping around his apartment for twenty minutes. Then he pulls the paper out of the luckily otherwise empty trash bin and straightens the paper out as best as he can. His fingers itch a little at the end of the song, but it only means he wants to play it again and change this and that. He hasn’t felt a song this good between his own guitar strings for some time. He ignores that is smells like Nishikido. Just a little.
Tuesday, 6:05 am
Maturing
Posted by 10shi
Songs, they mature like good wine, don’t they? A song that was rough and messy becomes full of strong emotions and smooth over the time. It grows along the musician.
Then there are those that go stale over the time, as if not “stored” - treasured properly. And then there are songs that don’t feel right until . . .
The wine - no matter what you do with it, but it feels like you can’t bring the taste of it out, you feel like it might be a lost crop. Then, out of the blue, your neighbor, the guy that always bragged about his own good wine, just suggests something, just because he’s annoying like that, and you’re desperate enough or curious enough to try and it just works.
The song too. It just works.
I sound like some romantic poet that lives off immature women and booze.
And I’ve never made wine. I get drunk from it too easily.
Tuesday, 11:50 pm
Nishikido doesn’t ask him out for a drink that day. He glares at him a lot and instead of following up on the mood from Ueda’s performance like he usually does, he violently swings it the other way, swaying the audience into confused buzz and later frantic thrill.
Ueda glares from his corner at the bar in return.
“Today it feels like Nishikido-kun is arguing with you on stage,” Nakamaru notes, and Ueda isn’t sure what he should think about it.
Nishikido rushes home right after his last turn on stage, and Ueda figures that at least it’s peaceful this way.
Thursday
6:14 pm
MayoandMusic: I might not be around much for a few days. It’s . . . complicated. But mail me if you want!
Saturday, 2:50 pm
Ueda’s schedule was mostly nocturnal for so long that he can’t sleep easily on the days he now has off. Even if he pushes himself and gets up early, he’s still wide awake late at night. Tonight, he goes for a long walk with his dogs but ends up feeling like having a drink afterwards. There’s a bar, or maybe three of them, closer to Ueda’s house than the one he works in. By the time he finally sets out, his work place must be closing too. Still that is where Ueda heads to. He wonders how things are today; if Nakamaru maybe doesn’t need help closing, or Kame cleaning the stage.
It’s not like Ueda is swayed by Nishikido’s latest mood swings-rage followed by silent greetings and strumming of his own guitar in the corner. Then there was the flyer stuck in Ueda’s jackets-a voucher for a free ticket to a concert of a small rock band that’s been making a name for itself in the town. There was no explanation accompanying it, but after the music sheet and, come to think of it, also that chocolate bar a week ago (Ueda had been eyeing the one their alcohol supplier was eating when he came. He didn’t remember buying one afterwards, but when he found it in his bag, he thought he might just be getting a bit old when he had no recollection of it.) Ueda is starting to think that Nishikido took his attention seeking to yet another level.
On stage, Nishikido still seems to be trying to win some kind of silent battle between him and Ueda. Ueda almost misses Nishikido’s calmer side, his smooth ballads that may not have as difficult guitar solos, that may not be as much in tempo, but that are so packed with feelings. He wonders if Nishikido still plays them on days that are completely his.
When Ueda arrives to the bar, the stage lights are off and even Kame seems to be gone already. Ueda ends up standing in silence behind the half pulled curtain of the entrance to the bar. The door wasn’t locked, but inside it’s just Nakamaru talking from behind the bar and Nishikido wiping the tables.
That comes as a surprise.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Nakamaru says.
“You keep saying that; clearly I want to, Big-nose,” Nishikido says, his next swipe a little more furious.
“You and Ueda are actually a lot alike in that,” Nakamaru laughs. Ueda notes the nickname doesn’t seem to offend Nakamaru at all.
“How so?” Nishikido stops working, his back to Ueda now as he turns all of his attention to Nakamaru.
“You both stay behind like this place is your whole life. Especially when you are upset or something bothers you.”
“I’m not upset,” Nishikido says moving to another table. “Princess knows how to clean tables?”
Nakamaru laughs again, and he is really lucky Ueda is too interested in the conversation to interrupt it just to punch them both in their big noses.
“You didn’t call him that into his face, did you? You wouldn’t be walking straight if you did,” he explains.
“I still can’t believe he really goes boxing. He’s pretty like a girl,” Nishikido says, then crushes into a chair, toppling it over and mumbling something about not being careful.
“So I guess princess is a compliment.” Nakamaru comes closer to Nishikido. Ueda thinks he’s way too close, and apparently so does Nishikido because he steps back quickly.
“Don’t change the subject. I bet Ueda just sits and mopes around when he’s here for closing,” Nishikido mutters.
“He stays in to tune his guitars. It’s just that he always cleans the backstage while he’s at it. He puts everything in the right places, collects the trash, wipes the floors,” Nakamaru starts counting out. Ueda didn’t know people noticed.
“Man, maybe it’s good he’s in a bad mood so often then,” Ryo mutters.
“Ueda’s just a very private person,” Nakamaru says.
The man in question really wants him to just shut up.
“Don’t give up yet. You didn’t get your lights punched out for constantly poking at him, so he must like you at least a little. I think he likes the music too. He’s not half bad, you know.”
Ryo sighs.
“I think you two could be good together. Plus, you think he’s pretty,” Nakamaru says with a serious face.
“It’s not like that,” Ryo almost shouts.
“I meant you’d be a good team,” Nakamaru says, way too calmly.
Ueda spins on his heel and runs out. He decides that Nakamaru needs his lips glued together. He also wonders why it bugs him that Nishikido seemed pretty down despite the strong front he was putting on. His shoulders slouched more than usual. The man has awful posture but that wasn’t his typical hunched macho stand just now.
Tuesday
3:35 am
10shi: I keep looking for you out here, but I guess you really are busy. Or maybe you got fed up with my whining? I’m getting kind of tired of myself too.
3:55 am
10shi: I mean, I didn’t mean it like an accusation or anything. So just ignore it. I’ve been assuming a lot lately. And I guess I am not as good at judging people as I thought. Now I don’t know what to think at all.
4:03 am
MayoandMusic: I’m here. What is this about?
10shi: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii!
10shi: Don’t mind me. Let’s talk about something else.
MayoandMusic: I could be in bed now, so spill it, you dummy!
10shi: Hey! Besides, it was stupid to drag this here. It’s job related again, but you and I talk music, not my personal problems. Sorry I got too comfortable. So just forget it.
4:10 am
MayoandMusic: If I told you I know what you do for living, would it qualify me for listening?
10shi: What?
MayoandMusic: I think you’re a musician in real life, or some kind of performer. Maybe you sing in a bar or something. Now, tell me how good I am.
4:17 am
10shi: Whatever, it’s not important. You’re right though, we should be sleeping.
MayoandMusic: Hey! I guessed right, didn’t I? Now don’t be silly and tell me what’s up.
10shi: Good night!
Friday, 11:35 pm
Nishikido still keeps to his side of the dressing room and only says his greetings. Ueda caught him staring at him once or twice, but Nishikido didn’t even realize it, deep in thoughts or something. Ueda even tried to approach him, but it just backfired as it always does, and now Nishikido thinks Ueda was trying to steal his jacket. He just wanted to give him something in return for the chocolate and the ticket. That’s all. Ueda might not know what to make of Nishikido these days, but he refuses to be the stubborn, unapproachable one.
So there needs to be a different way to just get over this silence.
Nishikido leaves the stage and glances over to Ueda.
“Good luck,” he mutters, and it’s almost swallowed by the applause from the audience.
Ueda gives them five minutes to calm down and steps onto the stage light. When he touches his guitar strings, he notices Nishikido making his way to the bar.
It’s an idea, and he has to close his hand into a fist to stop it from shaking just a little. But then his fingers are moving on their own, and the melody spills, the song arranged with the help of the man that is now sitting in the dark corner of the bar. Ueda doesn’t see his reaction, but he can clearly feel the one of the audience. They love it, and there’s a pleasant wave of energy running through the crowd and into the tip of his fingers. It’s the best show he put on in ages, not holding back and just riding out the good will the first song brought on. When Ueda leaves the stage, Nishikido is gone.
Saturday
2:50 am
MayoandMusic: I think we should meet. You live in Tokyo, right? I moved there like two months ago, found a job here and all.
It’s not like I don’t have friends here, okay? I just figured we could be normal friends since you insist on there being a distinction between those and online acquaintances. Think about it.
Sunday, 5:30 pm
Nishikido is already in the dressing room when Ueda comes in. He doesn’t even manage to say hello before the man is in his personal space.
“I have more. I like what you did to the song, but you used my arrangement, right? I have more of them. Sometimes it’s just a really small adjustment, but it feels like it could make the song better,” He blurts out in one breath.
Ueda narrows his eyes. “Are you suggesting that my songs aren’t good enough without your assistance?”
Nishikido steps back, his expression all confused for a moment. “No! I like them. A lot! I just thought . . .” He takes a deep breath. “I was hoping we could work together. Maybe you could help me with my own songs too. Or maybe we could make one together, sing it together too.” He starts to talk fast again.
“So you mess with my songs and constantly criticize me because you like them and you want to work with me?”
“Yes!” Nishikido bites his lip. “I mean no, it’s not criticism, it’s just. Your music, it draws me in and I like to play it, so then I have these ideas and you could totally record.”
“So it turns out Nishikido Ryo is my fan,” Ueda smirks a little, but it’s crooked because he feels like smiling, smiling so wide all of his teeth would be visible.
“Well you’re mine, so it’s okay!” Nishikido collects himself, his confident smile back on.
“Look, Nishikido, I . . .” Ueda forgets what he wanted to say, his head suddenly full of possibilities that combining their forces could bring forth.
“Ryo, call me Ryo,” Nishikido grins at him.
“Thanks for the concert ticket, Ryo,” Ueda says.
“No problem,” Ryo says back, not missing a beat, not really flustered or denying it. Still, Ueda wonders if he can see the tips of his ears turning red. It’s a bit too dark in there.
Tuesday
3:10 am
10shi: I’m sending you a picture of me. I have a day off tomorrow and I’m going to this concert, details are in the email as well. If you want to, come find me there.
Wednesday, 7:00 pm
This bar is bigger than Ueda’s workplace, and the acoustics seem a bit better too. A step up, Ueda thinks. He squeezes inside, weeding through the crowd, and manages to snatch a bar stool someone leaves after buying a drink. He has a perfect view this way and is a little excited to hear these guys, to know what the fuss is all about. He wonders if he is going to be enjoying it alone and why he suggested this. Chances are the M&M guy won’t find him. He feels a little bad for doing it that way, but it’s his fault for asking to meet.
“Hey pretty, can I join you?” Someone asks right into Ueda’s ear, and it’s a good thing Ueda can actually control his reflexes these days.
“What the fuck,” he shouts when he recognizes Ryo’s big grin.
“Nagase has some friend over, some folk singer or whatever. But they’re apparently playing together tonight. So I’m free for the evening,” Ryo says. “Fine place you found yourself here.”
Ueda only manages to shrug before the lights in the bar go down and the stage lights up. He spends the concert taking in the music, pointing out the good things and mocking some others with Nishi~ with Ryo. It’s kind of fun. They leave the bar right after the concert ends, the air too warm and suffocating in there. Ueda stops abruptly when someone shouts a foreign sounding name once they get out.
“Oh,” he sighs and looks around.
“What is it?” Ryo asks, stopping in his tirade about the bassists.
“I was kind of supposed to meet someone,” Ueda says. He doesn’t know if he feels disappointed or just plain guilty because he had so much fun with Ryo instead.
“Ah,” Ryo says, looking down at the pavement.
“It’s too late now,” Ueda says and starts walking away.
“Ueda,” Ryo calls out, still looking at the pavement.
“What is it now?”
“About that . . .” Ryo kicks a pebble.
“About what?” Ueda is getting impatient.
“You mean you set up a date using the ticket from me?” Ryo asks suddenly, sounding just a little choked, attempting mockery. What on earth is that tone?
“No! And what does it matter?” Ueda says defensively.
Ryo catches up to him, back to normal now. “Oh okay. Do you want to go have a beer?”
Ueda is kind of tired. “No,” he says but before Ryo can misunderstand he adds. “Maybe next time.”
Ryo lights up. “That’s a promise. Don’t forget it!”
Wednesday
11:00 pm
10shi: The concert was fun! I even had surprising company. Surprisingly good too. Only now you know how I look like and I don’t know about you. *pouts*
Thursday
10:30 am
MayoandMusic: Maybe next time ;D
10shi: You ass.
MayoandMusic: I love you too, my angel.
10shi: Stop calling me that. You’re creepy. Maybe it’s good we haven’t met ;D
MayoandMusic: Well, last night you ditched me anyway :p
10shi: No, someone just insists on having my attention all the time.
MayoandMusic: You like it!
10shi: Maybe? I’m having fun.
Friday, 3:10 am
“It’s not like Nagase can’t play, but his friend, that Domoto guy, was so out of practice that it was painful to listen to sometimes,” Nakamaru whines when Ueda joins him at the bar.
Only water today, he signals when Nakamaru starts pulling out his favorite alcohol. Nakamaru doesn’t comment. Ueda’s in good mood then.
“He shouldn’t let Ryo off then,” Ueda muses. “He should know better, right?”
“Well Ryo basically begged him to let him go when he saw the opportunity,” Nakamaru shrugs.
Sunday, 4:00 pm
“So, are you ready?” Ryo asks as he settles down with his guitar.
It wasn’t really like they set up their meeting. They just happened to be both early that day. Ryo might have mentioned planning on coming early, and Ueda might have made sure his dogs were fed and walked unusually early.
The feeling is all wrong at first. Ueda tries too hard from the start to keep up with Ryo’s guitar, but he can’t get it right. He frowns in frustration, but Ryo just nods at him and starts again. The enthusiasm is almost of contagious.
“Don’t worry too much,” Ryo says when they still don’t sound anywhere near in sync on the fourth try. “Close your eyes and just do your thing,” he adds.
Ueda is doubtful.
“I know you can play those cords without looking,” Ryo encourages.
“Fine,” Ueda sighs.
He opens his eyes in surprise when they’re half way through the song. Everything is suddenly in place, and maybe it’s Ryo who’s finally caught up to him. The sound bouncing off the walls is making his heart beat faster. His eyes meet Ryo’s concentrated stare, eyes dark and focused on him. Ueda’s breath hitches, and it breaks the magic of the song. Still at the end of it, they’re both smiling.
“I need to go check the stage before we start today,” Ueda gets out.
Ryo nods. “You know I meant it when I said you could record,” he says quickly before Ueda leaves.
“I don’t have that ambition really, not unless it’s as some background guitar for a track or something.”
Ryo hums thoughtfully. “I guess I can see why you wouldn’t,” he says.
Ueda is just happy he doesn’t push it. He’s had enough ambitions pushed on him when he still lived at home.
That night, they go for a beer after they are both done. Ueda comes home only when sun is out already and collapses into bed. It is almost comfortable by now, being around Ryo. Ueda still wants to prove he’s better, good enough to carry the bar’s reputation, but now more to himself than to anyone else. Ryo is still a competition, but he’s not an enemy anymore. It’s Ryo’s music that Ueda hears in his head as he falls asleep.
Monday
2:00 pm
MayoandMusic: What would you say if I told you that we actually met that night at a concert?
3:56 pm
10shi: What is that supposed to mean?
Tuesday, 2:50 am
“So, that went well,” Ueda comments on the song in which he tried Ryo’s little trick with the chord transition. He joins Ryo at the bar, spinning on the bar stool like a kid. Ryo should really be going home on days he’s done sooner than Ueda-that’s the whole point of having two of them around-but he’s stayed behind yet again. It cheers Ueda up a little to see him hanging around Nakamaru. Ryo probably makes the barman suffer.
“Of course it did. I know what I’m doing,” Ryo smirks.
“Well aren’t you just full of yourself?” Ueda laughs.
“No, I’m just that good, and I know it,” Ryo says back.
It sounds like something someone else would say-or type to be precise.
Ueda shakes the feeling off.
Wednesday, 3:30 pm
When Ryo leans down and fixes the way Ueda has his fingers on a chord, Ueda feels a shiver run up his spine. Ten minutes later, he realizes Ryo smells really nice. Right before Ryo walks on stage to get ready for the night, Ueda catches Ryo looking at him for no good reason.
They might have a problem.
As Ueda wades through the rest of the day, he realizes he knows very little about who Ryo is and what he likes, aside from his guitar. He guesses he’s from Kansai because of the accent that sometimes breaks free, but that’s about it. Ueda can’t tell how much Ryo has guessed about him either. He wonders if the tremor of energy in the air he suddenly feels is all him only. It could be. It happened before that he fell all by himself for someone he could not have to begin with. But would it really be this strong-this touchable every time they pass each other, if it was just him? In the intermission, Ryo brushes past Ueda and Ueda’s skin suddenly burns. Ryo gives him a smile, just this shy quirk of his lips, and Ueda can almost touch the feelings in the air. Even the cocky nod from the bar when Ueda finishes the song they worked on together is all different now, more proud of Ueda than showing off.
Only a simple touch on one insignificant afternoon and Ueda’s thrown into a whirl of completely new dimensions.
The only thing that keeps him on the surface is his music. It always gets a different twist in moments like these. He loves and hates how when he’s drowning, his music is at its best.
Thursday
03:46 pm
10shi: You know, you’re acting strange. Send me a picture of yourself or something because I feel kind of stalked right now.
MayoandMusic: Uhm, I . . . okay. I will.
Ueda receives a picture of someone with a baseball cap saying “mean people suck” on. The face is completely hidden by it. The person is holding a guitar. Both the guitar and the person look familiar. Ueda opens and closes it again and again. This is really not healthy. He didn’t know he was so into Nishikido that he now sees him in every man around him.
10shi: Cheater :DDDD
Thursday, 4:58 pm
Ueda arrives at the club and sees Ryo hurrying out of backstage.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“I’m off today. Got to go,” Ryo says, not really meeting his eyes.
Ueda’s face falls a little, and he’s too busy putting his composure back together, so he doesn’t notice Ryo suddenly leaning close and giving him an awkward half hug.
“See you,” Ryo mutters and startles, starts to pull away as if only now realizing what he did.
Ueda grabs his T-shirt on impulse and keeps him close. Ryo still smells great, Ueda’s heart still leaps at the closeness, and somehow, Ueda can feel Ryo’s stomach trembling a little against his knuckles. Ueda doesn’t manage to stop himself as he leans closer, brushing their lips together.
“Come back soon,” he says.
It’s completely insane. He lets go of Ryo. They jump apart, and Ryo’s gone before Ueda can shake himself off.
“Why is Ryo on a break?” Ueda asks Nagase casually. What he’s really asking is when he’s coming back.
“He needs to go and settle some stuff in his home town. He moved to Tokyo after getting this job, and I think he’s kept his apartment and everything for a while. I guess he likes it here well enough, so he needs to go and take care of things. It’s only you until Tuesday. I can count on you, right?”
Ueda nods. Something’s terribly wrong here.
He comes into their dressing room and finds a note and a music sheet on top of his guitar.
Here’s a song I’ve been working on. I think it suits you better than me though, so you can have it. Maybe fix it?
Also I’m sending you a picture from a better angle than I did yesterday.
I’m sorry. I . . . knew for a while. But I suck at communication. You know, that’s why I go online ;D
Sorry again.
Ueda pulls out his phone and checks his emails. There’s a new message from MayoandMusic. A picture of a man-in exactly the same clothes and the same hat as the one in the picture from yesterday. Only it’s a clear picture of his profile. Dark hair at the back of the head, kind of a big nose, Ryo’s eyes.
Ueda should have listened to his instincts a bit more after all.
Friday
4:14 am
10shi: I hate you so much right now.
Ueda is drunk. He kissed Ryo in a club tonight. Ryo, who turned out to be someone who knew way more about him that Ryo should know. Ueda almost feels his own inner images of those two colliding behind his heavy eyelids.
9:30 am
MayoandMusic: But I kind of like you.
Saturday, 6:30 pm
Playing with a hangover is a bitch. It’s even worse that Ueda has to play all night by himself. He decides that the best way to deal is to drink some more.
Tuesday, 4:30 am
Nakamaru leaves Ueda sitting on his own doorstep. It’s like old times-only him, his guitar and the booze. Only it doesn’t taste so good anymore, and the mornings are much more painful than they were five years ago. Ueda has Tuesday off. Ryo can pick up his slack.
Ryo can do whatever he wants. He just needs to stay out of Ueda’s way. Ueda hits the sand bag in his hallway. His wrist almost cracks from the uncontrolled impact, and then the sand bag hits him back-square in his face.
Ueda sleeps right there, on the floor of his hallway.
Wednesday, 4:55 pm
Ueda comes into work with black shades on. He doesn’t talk to Ryo, who catches on pretty quickly and stays out of his way. Ueda’s voice cracks three songs in, and Nagase sends him home, tells him to shape up. The last thing Ueda sees is Ryo taking his chair on stage and strumming his guitar with confidence. That sucker.
Thursday
3:05 am
MayoandMusic: Do you have someone to make you some soup? Don’t just drink. Food is good.
4:30 am
Ueda is still up and three sheets in the wind again. He picks up his guitar and stumbles upon the song Ryo left him with his stupid message. He’s about the right amount of drunk and insane to actually play it.
It’s beautiful. Ueda’s drunken mind comes up with lyrics on second play. He just hopes he will be able to read them from the wall in his living room once he sobers up the next day.
Still Thursday, 3:15 pm
The first run in a week hurts. So does Ueda’s head, but he’s ready for it this time. He’s had his hangover bowl of ramen and cleaned up. He’s been out of his hard rocker phase for some time now, after all. A week of marinating in alcohol is not going to help things.
6:03 pm
Ueda still doesn’t say a word to Ryo who’s waiting for him by the door to their dressing room. He sets up and waits for six pm to hit, so he can start playing.
Apparently, he writes best lyrics when heartbroken and drunk. The song is an instant hit and the girls that usually squeal over Ryo are practically swooning from it-because of him.
The big man, a regular, at the back orders him a glass of whiskey and has it sent on stage. It takes Ueda whole night to drink it, and he has plenty of water in between. The crowd leaves him pleasantly buzzed with adrenaline. This is the high he loves the most.
When Ueda stumbles backstage, he is smiling like a fool. He’s drained, his head still hurts and he needs a proper sleep-not a drunk haze of dreams and nightmares-but he’s happy.
Ryo’s hands on his shoulders catch Ueda off guard. His heads spins a little from the sudden fast movement, and he’s pushed in between the rack with coats way too easily. A hanger digs into his head, and he’s about to say something, but then there are lips on his and he has to hold on for dear life or else he’d be on the floor, his knees bucking.
Ueda’s actions seem to be taken as encouragement, and when he tries to gasp for air, he has tongue in his mouth. It’s hot, and there’s Ryo’s cologne mixing with his taste, and it’s exhilarating and too good and kind of perfect when Ryo wraps an arm around his waist and doesn’t let go no matter how much Ueda flails.
“I know rockers like it fast and hard, but Nishikido needed to be on stage already. So please leave the backstage sex for after your work hours,” Nagase says from somewhere in the room.
Ryo and Ueda end up crashing to the floor along with the hangers and coats.
Ueda still sits there when Ryo leaves to sing. He’s probably smiling like a fool.
Nagase just hits him over head. “Clean the mess up,” he says.
When Ueda slowly gets up, he claps him on the shoulder. “It’s good to hear my employees are getting along so well. But please, do play it up for the audience from time to time. They loved the tension and the competition in the air.”
Friday, 4:35 am
A small apartment on top of a ramen shop is as good a place for fast and hard sex with a rocker as any other, Ueda thinks. He runs his hand through Ryo’s hair and pulls at it. Ryo arches, neck in a beautiful curve as Ueda pushes into him from behind. It’s all kind of perfect-the way Ryo lets him, making needy sounds and crying out his name, over and over.
“Tatsuya,” Ryo says, voice already hoarse and so much better than when he’s singing.
Suddenly, it’s not too long for Ryo to say the name, and Ueda makes him say it over and over again until his mind is blank, only Ryo’s voice and the pleasure building inside him.
Friday, 2:30 pm
“Your dogs don’t like me,” Ryo whines when they watch his every step, not letting him pet them, and the golden retriever growls a little every time Ryo wants to get close.
“They don’t like liars. They can feel it,” Ueda says and hands Ryo a bowl of ramen from downstairs. “Next time you decide to lie and fool me like that, they’ll hunt you down.”
Ryo sniffs at the ramen, eyes downcast, but says nothing.
“That’s all you’re getting,” Ueda warns him, sitting down with his own food.
Ryo leans over to Ueda’s side of the couch and kisses him. It’s not gentle at all, and Ueda’s sure Ryo’s just bit him completely on purpose, but he can return the favor later.
“I don’t think so,” Ryo says when he pulls away. He’s full of himself yet again.
But when his lips quirk a little and his smile gets a little shy, Ueda lets it go. He will find a way to make him pay for all his mind games. In the meantime-
“Eat up,” Ueda says and gets up. He returns with a guitar and dumps it into Ryo’s lap. “Play me that song, the one you wrote for me,” he says.
Ryo turns red, but slurps his noodles that much faster. When he takes a proper hold of the guitar, he finds a golden retriever pressed against his shin. Ueda knows he’s looking way too happy, maybe a little like a fool in love. It doesn’t matter. When Ryo starts playing, there’s two of them.
From: Cupid-san
~~♥~~
Title: So over the rocker phase
Pairings/Characters: Ryo/Ueda
Rating: R
Warnings: Purposefully comical use of cameos and dramatic moments ;D
Notes: I’m not too familiar with the setting, so I hope this is fine. Dear alienashi, I wanted to write you something pretty and subtle, but what came out is just these boys being silly and stubborn. I hope you’ll still like it.
Summary: Ueda feels pretty safe, playing in a good club, having his own faithful audience. When a new musician is hired, the competition is on!
Thursday
02:30 am
MayoandMusic: Where are you? I’ve been offered a new job. I think I’ll take it. I went to look around the place tonight, but the boss was acting kind of funny. He kept rushing me around.
02:56 am
MayoandMusic: Went for a drink afterwards. There was a live music at that bar. The singer looked like a girl. It was distracting.
03:30 am
MayoandMusic: Ah, this is no fun. Where are you, you dog freak? Are you out on a midnight stroll with your herd again? I’m going to bed.
4:20 am
Ueda comes home way too late that night. The show was good, but he had a weird feeling all evening long, and he ended up lagging behind, retuning all of his guitars, watching Nakamaru wipe the bar clean-polishing it until Ueda felt he might go blind from its gleam. He had a shot of whiskey, but decided against getting drunk simply because of feeling anxious. He’s been out of his hard rocker phase for some time now, after all. It just meant drinking a lot to forget his insecurities, anyway.
4:35 am
10shi: I had a long night. You’re going to work at a place where they keep secrets from you right from the start? You thought he was pretty, admit it! Who told you to spam my chat box while I’m not here? It’s your own doing.
11:30 am
MayoandMusic: If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a stripper or a sex line operator.
2:56 pm
10shi: Are you sure you do know better? ;D
Saturday
Ueda’s bar has been his own territory for a while now. The audience here watched him grow out of his blond and mysterious phase, into his dark, rockish cool phase, and then grow some more into the confident musician who can sing just about anything on stage, choosing his persona depending on the audience and the mood, but staying comfortable under the gazes that used to make him almost cry, and had not once, in the past, succeeded. In a way, maybe he has become too comfortable here, working his turf.
That is what the owner of Nagase shack, tells him that Saturday, half an hour before he’s to go on stage. Nagase introduces him to his new colleague a minute later, before Ueda even manages to close his mouth in shock.
The guy-small, dark and cocky-smirks.
“Fishlips, show me what you’ve got,” he says, when the club owner goes to check on the bar, leaving a baffled Ueda behind.
It’s not like they‘ve never had guest appearances. Ueda needs his days off, and sometimes vacations, and it’s good to switch it up. They have live music six days a week, and Ueda doesn’t mind not having his weekends. Well, not having them exactly when everyone else is having them. Apparently that’s all about to change. With two regular performers, Ueda is to get three full nights for himself and share another three nights with this guy.
Yes, Ueda’s been playing from six pm till two am every night, and he needs to be there almost an hour earlier to get ready, but he never complains. He doesn’t want to leave the stage just when the mood is right, to make room for someone else due to some stupid rotation, and doesn’t want to work out some kind of schedule with this guy, who-by the looks of it, will play some bubblegum pop. The bar has always been packed thanks to good music and strong drinks, no cheating with ice and poor cocktail ingredients. Do they really need the new crowd this man would surely bring?
What is his name, anyway?
“If this is how you entertain the crowd, no wonder I’m here,” the guy says into the now long lasting silence, and Ueda remembers.
“Nishikido Ryo,” he mutters.
“That is my name, but you can call me Ryo,” the man grins. “I’ll call you Ueda. Tatsuya’s too much bother.”
Ueda glares, but remembers to be composed; something about good work relationships.
“I’ll show you around later, but I need to be on stage in,” Ueda looks at the clock and curses the boss and every deity there is to curse, “five minutes.”
“You can give me a tour before we switch,” Ryo shrugs. “Until then, show me my competition!” He adds and leaves the room.
Ueda finds him in the audience, front row, a glass of vodka set on the small round table in front of him and dark gaze fixed on Ueda the moment he comes out. Ueda feels so much younger that night.
Nagase is right. He did get too comfortable.
Sunday
4:30 am
10shi: Okay, gym and dogs didn’t help. I’m still mad. Maybe a little disappointed. Boss says we need new blood at my work place. So this new guy waltzes in, shows off, makes me look like a weakling. I totally let it get to me, but that was the last time. We’re so on!
4:37 am
MayoandMusic: Just go to sleep. Kick ass next time.
10shi: What’s your excuse to be up? You bet I will.
MayoandMusic: I’ve got a lot to think about.
10shi: What are you thinking about?
MayoandMusic: Just things . . .
2:36 pm.
10shi: Fell asleep on my screen. Sorry.
5:30 pm
Ueda is out for blood the next time he meets Nishikido. The word got out, the bar has a new singer and the bar is buzzing with excitement. Ryo walks in with a swagger and pokes Ueda about his jeans and stupidly long sweater. And then he has opinions on the schedule Ueda proposes.
When he finally leaves for the day, it’s not before twirling a strand of Ueda’s hair around his finger.
“See you later, pretty,” he says.
Ueda wonders how come the man walked out without a black eye.
Wednesday
3:30 am
10shi: This guy is insufferable. We can’t even agree on a rotation system. It’s like he’s opposing everything and anything I do on purpose.
MayoandMusic: Hello to you too. Are you sure you’re not just being a drama queen because he ruffled your feathers?
10shi: I AM NOT! I’m a professional.
MayoandMusic: LOL
10shi: You sound just like him right now. I can hear you smirking.
MayoandMusic: You never heard me smirking.
10shi: Are you trying to piss me off too?
MayoandMusic: Okay, I’ll be your agony aunt. What did he do, that jerk? ;D
10shi: Never mind. I’m over it. I punched the sand bag in my entry hall really hard. I think I need to sneak his photo and stick it onto it for better effect.
MayoandMusic: Taking pictures? What are you, a secret admirer?
10shi: I really do not like your choice of words.
MayoandMusic: :DDDDDD Alright then, I’m sending you this song I like.
10shi: Not another Saito Kazuyoshi song, please.
MayoandMusic: No, I know a lost case when I see one. But you don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll promise you’ll like it.
MayoandMusic: So? Did you like it?
10shi: Hmmm . . . kind of?
MayoandMusic: You liked it :DDD
10shi: Do you have more?
MayoandMusic: Sending it your way.
10shi: The bass line isn’t half bad.
MayoandMusic: I know right? I also like the tempo gradation.
MayoandMusic: Over your annoying colleague now?
10shi: Thanks!
Wednesday, 11:30 pm
Admittedly, it’s nice to have a break longer than ten minutes tops, just enough to run to the bathroom and gulp down some water or food. It still takes Ueda more than a week to sit down at the back of the room, in the darkest chair of the bar and listen to Nishikido Ryo properly.
“Stop frowning. It looks scary,” Nakamaru tells Ueda after a song.
“I’m just thinking,” Ueda replies, grabbing a glass from the shelf he can reach and letting Nakamaru pour him a glass of whiskey.
“It’s not a competition, you know,” Nakamaru says after another song that gets the crowd applauding rather noisily.
“But it is,” Ueda mutters.
“It doesn’t have to be.” Nakamaru shrugs and rushes off to wipe the circles of water where someone wasn’t careful with their drinks on the other side of the bar.
Two songs later, Ueda finds himself tapping his foot against the wooden floor while Nishikido Ryo belts out a heartfelt ballad that has a really nice rhythm in the background. He can play guitar, that’s for sure. Ueda adds one more hour of practice to his daily schedule.
Saturday
2:45 am
MayoandMusic: SO are you ever going to tell me what it is you do?
10shi: Why should I? It’s not like I know what you do, anyway.
MayoandMusic: I’ll tell you if you tell me.
10shi: I don’t want to. It doesn’t matter.
MayoandMusic: Maybe you’re a serial killer luring me in.
10shi: All this chatting, that would be way too much effort for one kill, don’t you think?
MayoandMusic: Angel-chaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan
10shi: Stop calling me that!
MayoandMusic: You chose that username. But I’m curious, I can only catch you online after midnight, not even on weekends. And you hardly ever post these days, so the hints are few and far in between.
10shi: Well, I just like to be mysterious. Deal with it. It’s not like I ask you why you’re still up this hour. My username is just play on some numbers. You know this!
MayoandMusic: Fine, I’ll figure it out on my own. I have a few ideas already. ;DDD
10shi: I’m not a stripper!!!
MayoandMusic: But wouldn’t that be very mysterious . . . if, you know, you forget about all the revealing aspects of the job. The username would fit. Is that your stage name?
10shi: I think I’m just going to go to bed now. I have my first free Saturday in forever tomorrow. I don’t want to waste it.
MayoandMusic: I’m jealous!
Saturday, 9:00 pm
The bar is packed and Ueda thinks the hoodie and the baggy clothes as a disguise weren’t even necessary. There’s no way anyone will spot him in this crowd. Come to think of it, it really is so thick.
“The new guy’s pretty good,” a man standing to the side of Ueda mutters.
“I wonder what the pretty one is doing, I like him more. Plus the squealing from the girls is annoying,” his friend shouts back.
“Liar, you were trying to score some at the bar. I saw you.”
They both laugh and Ueda feels a little sick. But then Ryo starts on another song and Ueda only watches him, concentrating, forgetting everyone around him.
This is for research. He wants to know how Nishikido is when Ueda isn’t there, what kind of songs he’s hiding from him. Ueda gets so pulled in that he startles when suddenly the crowd around him moves in every direction, intermission pulling some to the bar, some outside for a breath of fresh air . . .
“I see you just can’t live without me,” someone whispers into his ear when he finally manages to shake himself out of his reverie.
Ueda doesn’t shriek, but it’s a close thing.
“Nishikido,” he manages in a cool tone.
Ryo pulls on his sleeve. “The least I can do for such a devoted fan is to buy him a drink,” he says and heads for the bar.
“I’m not here for you,” Ueda frees his hand and stops walking.
Ryo tilts his head. “And I would swear I saw you tapping your foot, all into my song,” he says, smirking.
“I just want to know my enemy,” Ueda mutters.
“I could show you some tricks,” Ryo ignores the remark. “You know, how to play some things, and how to act to get girls hooked on you. It’s all about timing and fanservice.” He sounds excited at the prospect.
“I don’t need that,” Ueda huffs.
“But it’s fun,” Ryo tries to pull him towards the bar.
“Shouldn’t you be going back?”
Ueda refuses to be seen by Nakamaru or by Kame, who’s always helping on the weekends. Nakamaru would give him knowing looks and Kame would overanalyze it.
Saturday
11:49 pm
10shi: Where are you? I thought I was the one never here before midnight.
11:53 pm
10shi: Are you out biting girls in the clubs again?
Sunday
00:30 am
10shi: So much for getting my mind off things. I’m off to bed.
Sunday
3:15 am
MayoandMusic: You’re not the only one with mysterious night activities. I’m sorry I left you lonely though! ;D
Thursday
4:00 am
MayoandMusic: So how’s your new colleague?
10shi: I don’t want to talk about it. How’s your new job?
MayoandMusic: It’s great! You know, I’m getting to know people. But I’m awesome, so everybody loves me.
10shi: You sure have the confidence for it.
MayoandMusic: I just know how good I am. So how is he?
10shi: You only hope I’ll slip and tell you what I’m doing.
MayoandMusic: That’s what you said :D Fine, next topic. I know this bar. The name’s really lame though.
10shi: It’s just, it makes me tired thinking about it. He keeps bugging me, inviting me for drinks, giving me pointers on my work, challenging me to do things, whining about what I wear. I just want him to go away.
MayoandMusic: He sounds like he likes you :DDDD
10shi: Or like he wants to make my life a living hell.
MayoandMusic: You’re not having fun?
10shi: I just want my peace back.
Tuesday, 2:15 am
“So where should we go to get wasted properly?” Nishikido asks from the doorway, watching Ueda pack.
“Why are you still here, you’ve finished playing three hours ago.” Ueda growls from where he’s zipping up his guitar.
“I told you, I want to have a drink.” Ryo crosses his arms on his chest and steps into Ueda’s way out.
“Not going to happen,” Ueda feels like a broken record.
“Stop being stupid,” Nishikido huffs, losing his cool for a moment.
“Stop calling me stupid,” Ueda retorts. “I’m tired,” he adds, a little less heated.
“Well, I’m tired of trying to be friendly,” Nishikido whispers.
Ueda makes a point of rolling his eyes. “You just want to mess with my head.”
Nishikido doesn’t stop him when Ueda tries to leave this time.
Tuesday, 2:55 am
Ueda comes home, but he can’t sleep. He pulls the guitar he brought back home from its case. Living in an attic of a ramen shop means it’s no problem practicing in the strange hours of the night. One of his labs settles at Ueda’s feet, and he almost misses the piece of paper that falls out of the guitar case.
It’s a different arrangement of a song he’s been playing the past two weeks. He’s been kind of testing it on the audience, still changing things around. But this version isn’t one of his own. It’s not hard to recognize the handwriting. If you share a dressing room with a person who leaves lyrics sheets everywhere, you remember the writing pretty soon.
Ueda throws the arrangement out, stomping around his apartment for twenty minutes. Then he pulls the paper out of the luckily otherwise empty trash bin and straightens the paper out as best as he can. His fingers itch a little at the end of the song, but it only means he wants to play it again and change this and that. He hasn’t felt a song this good between his own guitar strings for some time. He ignores that is smells like Nishikido. Just a little.
Tuesday, 6:05 am
Maturing
Posted by 10shi
Songs, they mature like good wine, don’t they? A song that was rough and messy becomes full of strong emotions and smooth over the time. It grows along the musician.
Then there are those that go stale over the time, as if not “stored” - treasured properly. And then there are songs that don’t feel right until . . .
The wine - no matter what you do with it, but it feels like you can’t bring the taste of it out, you feel like it might be a lost crop. Then, out of the blue, your neighbor, the guy that always bragged about his own good wine, just suggests something, just because he’s annoying like that, and you’re desperate enough or curious enough to try and it just works.
The song too. It just works.
I sound like some romantic poet that lives off immature women and booze.
And I’ve never made wine. I get drunk from it too easily.
Tuesday, 11:50 pm
Nishikido doesn’t ask him out for a drink that day. He glares at him a lot and instead of following up on the mood from Ueda’s performance like he usually does, he violently swings it the other way, swaying the audience into confused buzz and later frantic thrill.
Ueda glares from his corner at the bar in return.
“Today it feels like Nishikido-kun is arguing with you on stage,” Nakamaru notes, and Ueda isn’t sure what he should think about it.
Nishikido rushes home right after his last turn on stage, and Ueda figures that at least it’s peaceful this way.
Thursday
6:14 pm
MayoandMusic: I might not be around much for a few days. It’s . . . complicated. But mail me if you want!
Saturday, 2:50 pm
Ueda’s schedule was mostly nocturnal for so long that he can’t sleep easily on the days he now has off. Even if he pushes himself and gets up early, he’s still wide awake late at night. Tonight, he goes for a long walk with his dogs but ends up feeling like having a drink afterwards. There’s a bar, or maybe three of them, closer to Ueda’s house than the one he works in. By the time he finally sets out, his work place must be closing too. Still that is where Ueda heads to. He wonders how things are today; if Nakamaru maybe doesn’t need help closing, or Kame cleaning the stage.
It’s not like Ueda is swayed by Nishikido’s latest mood swings-rage followed by silent greetings and strumming of his own guitar in the corner. Then there was the flyer stuck in Ueda’s jackets-a voucher for a free ticket to a concert of a small rock band that’s been making a name for itself in the town. There was no explanation accompanying it, but after the music sheet and, come to think of it, also that chocolate bar a week ago (Ueda had been eyeing the one their alcohol supplier was eating when he came. He didn’t remember buying one afterwards, but when he found it in his bag, he thought he might just be getting a bit old when he had no recollection of it.) Ueda is starting to think that Nishikido took his attention seeking to yet another level.
On stage, Nishikido still seems to be trying to win some kind of silent battle between him and Ueda. Ueda almost misses Nishikido’s calmer side, his smooth ballads that may not have as difficult guitar solos, that may not be as much in tempo, but that are so packed with feelings. He wonders if Nishikido still plays them on days that are completely his.
When Ueda arrives to the bar, the stage lights are off and even Kame seems to be gone already. Ueda ends up standing in silence behind the half pulled curtain of the entrance to the bar. The door wasn’t locked, but inside it’s just Nakamaru talking from behind the bar and Nishikido wiping the tables.
That comes as a surprise.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Nakamaru says.
“You keep saying that; clearly I want to, Big-nose,” Nishikido says, his next swipe a little more furious.
“You and Ueda are actually a lot alike in that,” Nakamaru laughs. Ueda notes the nickname doesn’t seem to offend Nakamaru at all.
“How so?” Nishikido stops working, his back to Ueda now as he turns all of his attention to Nakamaru.
“You both stay behind like this place is your whole life. Especially when you are upset or something bothers you.”
“I’m not upset,” Nishikido says moving to another table. “Princess knows how to clean tables?”
Nakamaru laughs again, and he is really lucky Ueda is too interested in the conversation to interrupt it just to punch them both in their big noses.
“You didn’t call him that into his face, did you? You wouldn’t be walking straight if you did,” he explains.
“I still can’t believe he really goes boxing. He’s pretty like a girl,” Nishikido says, then crushes into a chair, toppling it over and mumbling something about not being careful.
“So I guess princess is a compliment.” Nakamaru comes closer to Nishikido. Ueda thinks he’s way too close, and apparently so does Nishikido because he steps back quickly.
“Don’t change the subject. I bet Ueda just sits and mopes around when he’s here for closing,” Nishikido mutters.
“He stays in to tune his guitars. It’s just that he always cleans the backstage while he’s at it. He puts everything in the right places, collects the trash, wipes the floors,” Nakamaru starts counting out. Ueda didn’t know people noticed.
“Man, maybe it’s good he’s in a bad mood so often then,” Ryo mutters.
“Ueda’s just a very private person,” Nakamaru says.
The man in question really wants him to just shut up.
“Don’t give up yet. You didn’t get your lights punched out for constantly poking at him, so he must like you at least a little. I think he likes the music too. He’s not half bad, you know.”
Ryo sighs.
“I think you two could be good together. Plus, you think he’s pretty,” Nakamaru says with a serious face.
“It’s not like that,” Ryo almost shouts.
“I meant you’d be a good team,” Nakamaru says, way too calmly.
Ueda spins on his heel and runs out. He decides that Nakamaru needs his lips glued together. He also wonders why it bugs him that Nishikido seemed pretty down despite the strong front he was putting on. His shoulders slouched more than usual. The man has awful posture but that wasn’t his typical hunched macho stand just now.
Tuesday
3:35 am
10shi: I keep looking for you out here, but I guess you really are busy. Or maybe you got fed up with my whining? I’m getting kind of tired of myself too.
3:55 am
10shi: I mean, I didn’t mean it like an accusation or anything. So just ignore it. I’ve been assuming a lot lately. And I guess I am not as good at judging people as I thought. Now I don’t know what to think at all.
4:03 am
MayoandMusic: I’m here. What is this about?
10shi: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiii!
10shi: Don’t mind me. Let’s talk about something else.
MayoandMusic: I could be in bed now, so spill it, you dummy!
10shi: Hey! Besides, it was stupid to drag this here. It’s job related again, but you and I talk music, not my personal problems. Sorry I got too comfortable. So just forget it.
4:10 am
MayoandMusic: If I told you I know what you do for living, would it qualify me for listening?
10shi: What?
MayoandMusic: I think you’re a musician in real life, or some kind of performer. Maybe you sing in a bar or something. Now, tell me how good I am.
4:17 am
10shi: Whatever, it’s not important. You’re right though, we should be sleeping.
MayoandMusic: Hey! I guessed right, didn’t I? Now don’t be silly and tell me what’s up.
10shi: Good night!
Friday, 11:35 pm
Nishikido still keeps to his side of the dressing room and only says his greetings. Ueda caught him staring at him once or twice, but Nishikido didn’t even realize it, deep in thoughts or something. Ueda even tried to approach him, but it just backfired as it always does, and now Nishikido thinks Ueda was trying to steal his jacket. He just wanted to give him something in return for the chocolate and the ticket. That’s all. Ueda might not know what to make of Nishikido these days, but he refuses to be the stubborn, unapproachable one.
So there needs to be a different way to just get over this silence.
Nishikido leaves the stage and glances over to Ueda.
“Good luck,” he mutters, and it’s almost swallowed by the applause from the audience.
Ueda gives them five minutes to calm down and steps onto the stage light. When he touches his guitar strings, he notices Nishikido making his way to the bar.
It’s an idea, and he has to close his hand into a fist to stop it from shaking just a little. But then his fingers are moving on their own, and the melody spills, the song arranged with the help of the man that is now sitting in the dark corner of the bar. Ueda doesn’t see his reaction, but he can clearly feel the one of the audience. They love it, and there’s a pleasant wave of energy running through the crowd and into the tip of his fingers. It’s the best show he put on in ages, not holding back and just riding out the good will the first song brought on. When Ueda leaves the stage, Nishikido is gone.
Saturday
2:50 am
MayoandMusic: I think we should meet. You live in Tokyo, right? I moved there like two months ago, found a job here and all.
It’s not like I don’t have friends here, okay? I just figured we could be normal friends since you insist on there being a distinction between those and online acquaintances. Think about it.
Sunday, 5:30 pm
Nishikido is already in the dressing room when Ueda comes in. He doesn’t even manage to say hello before the man is in his personal space.
“I have more. I like what you did to the song, but you used my arrangement, right? I have more of them. Sometimes it’s just a really small adjustment, but it feels like it could make the song better,” He blurts out in one breath.
Ueda narrows his eyes. “Are you suggesting that my songs aren’t good enough without your assistance?”
Nishikido steps back, his expression all confused for a moment. “No! I like them. A lot! I just thought . . .” He takes a deep breath. “I was hoping we could work together. Maybe you could help me with my own songs too. Or maybe we could make one together, sing it together too.” He starts to talk fast again.
“So you mess with my songs and constantly criticize me because you like them and you want to work with me?”
“Yes!” Nishikido bites his lip. “I mean no, it’s not criticism, it’s just. Your music, it draws me in and I like to play it, so then I have these ideas and you could totally record.”
“So it turns out Nishikido Ryo is my fan,” Ueda smirks a little, but it’s crooked because he feels like smiling, smiling so wide all of his teeth would be visible.
“Well you’re mine, so it’s okay!” Nishikido collects himself, his confident smile back on.
“Look, Nishikido, I . . .” Ueda forgets what he wanted to say, his head suddenly full of possibilities that combining their forces could bring forth.
“Ryo, call me Ryo,” Nishikido grins at him.
“Thanks for the concert ticket, Ryo,” Ueda says.
“No problem,” Ryo says back, not missing a beat, not really flustered or denying it. Still, Ueda wonders if he can see the tips of his ears turning red. It’s a bit too dark in there.
Tuesday
3:10 am
10shi: I’m sending you a picture of me. I have a day off tomorrow and I’m going to this concert, details are in the email as well. If you want to, come find me there.
Wednesday, 7:00 pm
This bar is bigger than Ueda’s workplace, and the acoustics seem a bit better too. A step up, Ueda thinks. He squeezes inside, weeding through the crowd, and manages to snatch a bar stool someone leaves after buying a drink. He has a perfect view this way and is a little excited to hear these guys, to know what the fuss is all about. He wonders if he is going to be enjoying it alone and why he suggested this. Chances are the M&M guy won’t find him. He feels a little bad for doing it that way, but it’s his fault for asking to meet.
“Hey pretty, can I join you?” Someone asks right into Ueda’s ear, and it’s a good thing Ueda can actually control his reflexes these days.
“What the fuck,” he shouts when he recognizes Ryo’s big grin.
“Nagase has some friend over, some folk singer or whatever. But they’re apparently playing together tonight. So I’m free for the evening,” Ryo says. “Fine place you found yourself here.”
Ueda only manages to shrug before the lights in the bar go down and the stage lights up. He spends the concert taking in the music, pointing out the good things and mocking some others with Nishi~ with Ryo. It’s kind of fun. They leave the bar right after the concert ends, the air too warm and suffocating in there. Ueda stops abruptly when someone shouts a foreign sounding name once they get out.
“Oh,” he sighs and looks around.
“What is it?” Ryo asks, stopping in his tirade about the bassists.
“I was kind of supposed to meet someone,” Ueda says. He doesn’t know if he feels disappointed or just plain guilty because he had so much fun with Ryo instead.
“Ah,” Ryo says, looking down at the pavement.
“It’s too late now,” Ueda says and starts walking away.
“Ueda,” Ryo calls out, still looking at the pavement.
“What is it now?”
“About that . . .” Ryo kicks a pebble.
“About what?” Ueda is getting impatient.
“You mean you set up a date using the ticket from me?” Ryo asks suddenly, sounding just a little choked, attempting mockery. What on earth is that tone?
“No! And what does it matter?” Ueda says defensively.
Ryo catches up to him, back to normal now. “Oh okay. Do you want to go have a beer?”
Ueda is kind of tired. “No,” he says but before Ryo can misunderstand he adds. “Maybe next time.”
Ryo lights up. “That’s a promise. Don’t forget it!”
Wednesday
11:00 pm
10shi: The concert was fun! I even had surprising company. Surprisingly good too. Only now you know how I look like and I don’t know about you. *pouts*
Thursday
10:30 am
MayoandMusic: Maybe next time ;D
10shi: You ass.
MayoandMusic: I love you too, my angel.
10shi: Stop calling me that. You’re creepy. Maybe it’s good we haven’t met ;D
MayoandMusic: Well, last night you ditched me anyway :p
10shi: No, someone just insists on having my attention all the time.
MayoandMusic: You like it!
10shi: Maybe? I’m having fun.
Friday, 3:10 am
“It’s not like Nagase can’t play, but his friend, that Domoto guy, was so out of practice that it was painful to listen to sometimes,” Nakamaru whines when Ueda joins him at the bar.
Only water today, he signals when Nakamaru starts pulling out his favorite alcohol. Nakamaru doesn’t comment. Ueda’s in good mood then.
“He shouldn’t let Ryo off then,” Ueda muses. “He should know better, right?”
“Well Ryo basically begged him to let him go when he saw the opportunity,” Nakamaru shrugs.
Sunday, 4:00 pm
“So, are you ready?” Ryo asks as he settles down with his guitar.
It wasn’t really like they set up their meeting. They just happened to be both early that day. Ryo might have mentioned planning on coming early, and Ueda might have made sure his dogs were fed and walked unusually early.
The feeling is all wrong at first. Ueda tries too hard from the start to keep up with Ryo’s guitar, but he can’t get it right. He frowns in frustration, but Ryo just nods at him and starts again. The enthusiasm is almost of contagious.
“Don’t worry too much,” Ryo says when they still don’t sound anywhere near in sync on the fourth try. “Close your eyes and just do your thing,” he adds.
Ueda is doubtful.
“I know you can play those cords without looking,” Ryo encourages.
“Fine,” Ueda sighs.
He opens his eyes in surprise when they’re half way through the song. Everything is suddenly in place, and maybe it’s Ryo who’s finally caught up to him. The sound bouncing off the walls is making his heart beat faster. His eyes meet Ryo’s concentrated stare, eyes dark and focused on him. Ueda’s breath hitches, and it breaks the magic of the song. Still at the end of it, they’re both smiling.
“I need to go check the stage before we start today,” Ueda gets out.
Ryo nods. “You know I meant it when I said you could record,” he says quickly before Ueda leaves.
“I don’t have that ambition really, not unless it’s as some background guitar for a track or something.”
Ryo hums thoughtfully. “I guess I can see why you wouldn’t,” he says.
Ueda is just happy he doesn’t push it. He’s had enough ambitions pushed on him when he still lived at home.
That night, they go for a beer after they are both done. Ueda comes home only when sun is out already and collapses into bed. It is almost comfortable by now, being around Ryo. Ueda still wants to prove he’s better, good enough to carry the bar’s reputation, but now more to himself than to anyone else. Ryo is still a competition, but he’s not an enemy anymore. It’s Ryo’s music that Ueda hears in his head as he falls asleep.
Monday
2:00 pm
MayoandMusic: What would you say if I told you that we actually met that night at a concert?
3:56 pm
10shi: What is that supposed to mean?
Tuesday, 2:50 am
“So, that went well,” Ueda comments on the song in which he tried Ryo’s little trick with the chord transition. He joins Ryo at the bar, spinning on the bar stool like a kid. Ryo should really be going home on days he’s done sooner than Ueda-that’s the whole point of having two of them around-but he’s stayed behind yet again. It cheers Ueda up a little to see him hanging around Nakamaru. Ryo probably makes the barman suffer.
“Of course it did. I know what I’m doing,” Ryo smirks.
“Well aren’t you just full of yourself?” Ueda laughs.
“No, I’m just that good, and I know it,” Ryo says back.
It sounds like something someone else would say-or type to be precise.
Ueda shakes the feeling off.
Wednesday, 3:30 pm
When Ryo leans down and fixes the way Ueda has his fingers on a chord, Ueda feels a shiver run up his spine. Ten minutes later, he realizes Ryo smells really nice. Right before Ryo walks on stage to get ready for the night, Ueda catches Ryo looking at him for no good reason.
They might have a problem.
As Ueda wades through the rest of the day, he realizes he knows very little about who Ryo is and what he likes, aside from his guitar. He guesses he’s from Kansai because of the accent that sometimes breaks free, but that’s about it. Ueda can’t tell how much Ryo has guessed about him either. He wonders if the tremor of energy in the air he suddenly feels is all him only. It could be. It happened before that he fell all by himself for someone he could not have to begin with. But would it really be this strong-this touchable every time they pass each other, if it was just him? In the intermission, Ryo brushes past Ueda and Ueda’s skin suddenly burns. Ryo gives him a smile, just this shy quirk of his lips, and Ueda can almost touch the feelings in the air. Even the cocky nod from the bar when Ueda finishes the song they worked on together is all different now, more proud of Ueda than showing off.
Only a simple touch on one insignificant afternoon and Ueda’s thrown into a whirl of completely new dimensions.
The only thing that keeps him on the surface is his music. It always gets a different twist in moments like these. He loves and hates how when he’s drowning, his music is at its best.
Thursday
03:46 pm
10shi: You know, you’re acting strange. Send me a picture of yourself or something because I feel kind of stalked right now.
MayoandMusic: Uhm, I . . . okay. I will.
Ueda receives a picture of someone with a baseball cap saying “mean people suck” on. The face is completely hidden by it. The person is holding a guitar. Both the guitar and the person look familiar. Ueda opens and closes it again and again. This is really not healthy. He didn’t know he was so into Nishikido that he now sees him in every man around him.
10shi: Cheater :DDDD
Thursday, 4:58 pm
Ueda arrives at the club and sees Ryo hurrying out of backstage.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“I’m off today. Got to go,” Ryo says, not really meeting his eyes.
Ueda’s face falls a little, and he’s too busy putting his composure back together, so he doesn’t notice Ryo suddenly leaning close and giving him an awkward half hug.
“See you,” Ryo mutters and startles, starts to pull away as if only now realizing what he did.
Ueda grabs his T-shirt on impulse and keeps him close. Ryo still smells great, Ueda’s heart still leaps at the closeness, and somehow, Ueda can feel Ryo’s stomach trembling a little against his knuckles. Ueda doesn’t manage to stop himself as he leans closer, brushing their lips together.
“Come back soon,” he says.
It’s completely insane. He lets go of Ryo. They jump apart, and Ryo’s gone before Ueda can shake himself off.
“Why is Ryo on a break?” Ueda asks Nagase casually. What he’s really asking is when he’s coming back.
“He needs to go and settle some stuff in his home town. He moved to Tokyo after getting this job, and I think he’s kept his apartment and everything for a while. I guess he likes it here well enough, so he needs to go and take care of things. It’s only you until Tuesday. I can count on you, right?”
Ueda nods. Something’s terribly wrong here.
He comes into their dressing room and finds a note and a music sheet on top of his guitar.
Here’s a song I’ve been working on. I think it suits you better than me though, so you can have it. Maybe fix it?
Also I’m sending you a picture from a better angle than I did yesterday.
I’m sorry. I . . . knew for a while. But I suck at communication. You know, that’s why I go online ;D
Sorry again.
Ueda pulls out his phone and checks his emails. There’s a new message from MayoandMusic. A picture of a man-in exactly the same clothes and the same hat as the one in the picture from yesterday. Only it’s a clear picture of his profile. Dark hair at the back of the head, kind of a big nose, Ryo’s eyes.
Ueda should have listened to his instincts a bit more after all.
Friday
4:14 am
10shi: I hate you so much right now.
Ueda is drunk. He kissed Ryo in a club tonight. Ryo, who turned out to be someone who knew way more about him that Ryo should know. Ueda almost feels his own inner images of those two colliding behind his heavy eyelids.
9:30 am
MayoandMusic: But I kind of like you.
Saturday, 6:30 pm
Playing with a hangover is a bitch. It’s even worse that Ueda has to play all night by himself. He decides that the best way to deal is to drink some more.
Tuesday, 4:30 am
Nakamaru leaves Ueda sitting on his own doorstep. It’s like old times-only him, his guitar and the booze. Only it doesn’t taste so good anymore, and the mornings are much more painful than they were five years ago. Ueda has Tuesday off. Ryo can pick up his slack.
Ryo can do whatever he wants. He just needs to stay out of Ueda’s way. Ueda hits the sand bag in his hallway. His wrist almost cracks from the uncontrolled impact, and then the sand bag hits him back-square in his face.
Ueda sleeps right there, on the floor of his hallway.
Wednesday, 4:55 pm
Ueda comes into work with black shades on. He doesn’t talk to Ryo, who catches on pretty quickly and stays out of his way. Ueda’s voice cracks three songs in, and Nagase sends him home, tells him to shape up. The last thing Ueda sees is Ryo taking his chair on stage and strumming his guitar with confidence. That sucker.
Thursday
3:05 am
MayoandMusic: Do you have someone to make you some soup? Don’t just drink. Food is good.
4:30 am
Ueda is still up and three sheets in the wind again. He picks up his guitar and stumbles upon the song Ryo left him with his stupid message. He’s about the right amount of drunk and insane to actually play it.
It’s beautiful. Ueda’s drunken mind comes up with lyrics on second play. He just hopes he will be able to read them from the wall in his living room once he sobers up the next day.
Still Thursday, 3:15 pm
The first run in a week hurts. So does Ueda’s head, but he’s ready for it this time. He’s had his hangover bowl of ramen and cleaned up. He’s been out of his hard rocker phase for some time now, after all. A week of marinating in alcohol is not going to help things.
6:03 pm
Ueda still doesn’t say a word to Ryo who’s waiting for him by the door to their dressing room. He sets up and waits for six pm to hit, so he can start playing.
Apparently, he writes best lyrics when heartbroken and drunk. The song is an instant hit and the girls that usually squeal over Ryo are practically swooning from it-because of him.
The big man, a regular, at the back orders him a glass of whiskey and has it sent on stage. It takes Ueda whole night to drink it, and he has plenty of water in between. The crowd leaves him pleasantly buzzed with adrenaline. This is the high he loves the most.
When Ueda stumbles backstage, he is smiling like a fool. He’s drained, his head still hurts and he needs a proper sleep-not a drunk haze of dreams and nightmares-but he’s happy.
Ryo’s hands on his shoulders catch Ueda off guard. His heads spins a little from the sudden fast movement, and he’s pushed in between the rack with coats way too easily. A hanger digs into his head, and he’s about to say something, but then there are lips on his and he has to hold on for dear life or else he’d be on the floor, his knees bucking.
Ueda’s actions seem to be taken as encouragement, and when he tries to gasp for air, he has tongue in his mouth. It’s hot, and there’s Ryo’s cologne mixing with his taste, and it’s exhilarating and too good and kind of perfect when Ryo wraps an arm around his waist and doesn’t let go no matter how much Ueda flails.
“I know rockers like it fast and hard, but Nishikido needed to be on stage already. So please leave the backstage sex for after your work hours,” Nagase says from somewhere in the room.
Ryo and Ueda end up crashing to the floor along with the hangers and coats.
Ueda still sits there when Ryo leaves to sing. He’s probably smiling like a fool.
Nagase just hits him over head. “Clean the mess up,” he says.
When Ueda slowly gets up, he claps him on the shoulder. “It’s good to hear my employees are getting along so well. But please, do play it up for the audience from time to time. They loved the tension and the competition in the air.”
Friday, 4:35 am
A small apartment on top of a ramen shop is as good a place for fast and hard sex with a rocker as any other, Ueda thinks. He runs his hand through Ryo’s hair and pulls at it. Ryo arches, neck in a beautiful curve as Ueda pushes into him from behind. It’s all kind of perfect-the way Ryo lets him, making needy sounds and crying out his name, over and over.
“Tatsuya,” Ryo says, voice already hoarse and so much better than when he’s singing.
Suddenly, it’s not too long for Ryo to say the name, and Ueda makes him say it over and over again until his mind is blank, only Ryo’s voice and the pleasure building inside him.
Friday, 2:30 pm
“Your dogs don’t like me,” Ryo whines when they watch his every step, not letting him pet them, and the golden retriever growls a little every time Ryo wants to get close.
“They don’t like liars. They can feel it,” Ueda says and hands Ryo a bowl of ramen from downstairs. “Next time you decide to lie and fool me like that, they’ll hunt you down.”
Ryo sniffs at the ramen, eyes downcast, but says nothing.
“That’s all you’re getting,” Ueda warns him, sitting down with his own food.
Ryo leans over to Ueda’s side of the couch and kisses him. It’s not gentle at all, and Ueda’s sure Ryo’s just bit him completely on purpose, but he can return the favor later.
“I don’t think so,” Ryo says when he pulls away. He’s full of himself yet again.
But when his lips quirk a little and his smile gets a little shy, Ueda lets it go. He will find a way to make him pay for all his mind games. In the meantime-
“Eat up,” Ueda says and gets up. He returns with a guitar and dumps it into Ryo’s lap. “Play me that song, the one you wrote for me,” he says.
Ryo turns red, but slurps his noodles that much faster. When he takes a proper hold of the guitar, he finds a golden retriever pressed against his shin. Ueda knows he’s looking way too happy, maybe a little like a fool in love. It doesn’t matter. When Ryo starts playing, there’s two of them.