The Fourteenth Time
Title - The Fourteenth Time
Author - unwritten_ideas
Beta - write_my_dreams
Rating - PG-13, mention of m/m situations
Word Count - 1,416
Pairing - Gackt x You
Characters - Gackt, You
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - time after time it happened again and still those questions were never answered...
Notes - I had some free time today and this hit me. It's been written, beta read and posted within a day. That's a new record for me!
The first time they’d been young and stupid.
And drunk.
Incredibly drunk.
You had broken up with his girlfriend, and Gackt was fresh from yet another row with his father about his lack of suitable career and how his chosen profession, singing in a rock band of all things, was disgracing the good family name.
They had both needed someone they could talk to, someone who would listen and many shots of vodka.
They had found that in each other.
When they’d woken the next day, naked and wrapped together in You’s bed with hangovers the size of Tokyo Tower, they’d nervously smiled at each other and quickly agreed that it would never happen again.
*~*~*~
The second time, they were slightly older, but no less stupid.
Still drunk though.
It had been Gackt’s grand leaving party; farewell from Kyoto and all who lived there and good luck in Tokyo.
You had, since Gackt had announced his plans only three days earlier, spent every waking moment trying to organise the type of party that Gackt both deserved and would want. On You’s budget, that hadn’t been easy, but he had managed it.
It had meant that the full reality of what was happening, that his best friend was moving to the capital for a new band, new life and new beginning, hadn’t fully hit You until halfway through the party.
You had shared a taxi back home with Gackt, but had never made it back to his parent’s house, only three blocks away, as Gackt had invited him inside his apartment for one last drink.
One for the road.
You had still been there the next morning, with a sore head and heavy heart, as Gackt had watched the furniture removal men arrive and had handed his apartment key back.
You could still feel Gackt against his skin.
*~*~*~
Now, the third time was easily remembered.
You had never really cared for Tokyo, but he had found himself there anyway, surrounded by screaming fans, high heels and more make up than he ever wanted to see again.
Gackt had greeted him warmly after the concert had finished and had left his bandmates, smiles for Kami, Közi and Yu~ki and a badly disguised scowl for Mana, in favour of spending time with You.
You had been expecting Gackt to be as happy and full of life as he was during his scarce phone calls. Instead, he’d been faced with a Gackt who knew that everything he had worked so hard for was falling apart, and was now desperately trying to salvage it.
Neither of them were drunk that night.
When that phone call came three weeks later from a scarily detached Gackt to say that he’d been kicked out of Malice Mizer, You wasn’t surprised at all.
*~*~*~
The fourth, fifth and sixth time all blurred together.
A combination of foreign smells, foreign food, foreign alcohol and jet lag that just would not pass meant that of those first few days in LA, all You could remember was the way Gackt’s voice cracked when he came.
You didn’t see much of LA during those first few days. He was either recording, or finding a little bit of home in Gackt’s hotel room.
*~*~*~
By the seventh time, maybe, they should have talked about it.
It had been difficult though. Gackt was stressed by the responsibility and constant disasters that followed his first tour wherever it went. It was hard to talk to the singer about anything other than lighting cues, the sound mix or crowd reaction.
It seemed that during that whole tour, the only time Gackt relaxed, truly relaxed and simply existed as a person instead of a superstar being pulled in ten different directions, was that evening he spent in You’s arms.
How could You have questioned the strange relationship they had, whatever the hell it was, when Gackt looked so at peace and content?
*~*~*~
In the end, You was glad he didn’t ask any questions about that seventh time.
It would have been embarrassing to have that conversation then, only for the eighth time to not happen until five years later. You had almost forgotten about those seven times, they only existed in fragments of his memory and were as distant as the time he won the art competition at his Junior High School. They existed in his dreams though, maybe… He could never be quite sure if the figure that haunted his dreams was Gackt or not.
He was certain, however, that those seven times never crossed Gackt’s mind.
It was Christmas and although You had never cared for the holiday or truly understood it, he had to admit it was a magical time to finally play the Tokyo Dome.
The show had been amazing. Gackt had been amazing.
And when Gackt, stone cold sober but still slightly buzzed from the adrenaline of the show, had asked You to accompany him home in a tone of voice that You had only heard on seven previous occasions, You readily agreed.
*~*~*~
You had stopped fooling himself by the ninth time.
Before, he’d been full of questions.
Why are we doing this?
What does it mean?
It is just sex?
Is it… more?
But, by the ninth time, he realised that he’d known the answers all along.
*~*~*~
No longer worrying about those questions and answers, meant that You could just lie back and enjoy the tenth time for what it was. Not that he ever got much chance to just lie back when he was in bed with Gackt.
Not that he wanted to, either.
Gackt noticed the change in You’s behaviour and merely smiled as he thrust inside.
*~*~*~
The eleventh time was a surprise.
Gackt had just finished that drama and was home for the first time after months of being a samurai. He was different… Aged and more mature, as if some of Uesugi Kenshin had permanently implanted itself inside of Gackt.
He had looked at You with questions in his eyes as You had laid him down on the bed. There had been a question on his tongue, waiting to be spoken when You entered him.
You stole it away with a kiss.
*~*~*~
It was another three years before the twelfth time.
You was starting to think that Gackt was avoiding the silent arrangement they had, but when Gackt grabbed him by the arm when they were still sweaty, breathing heavy and half naked after finishing the Otoko Matsuri and dragged him into Gackt’s dressing room, You was glad of the passage of time.
Gackt was such a heady mix of beauty and testosterone, tiredness and power and simple raw, undisguised lust that You would have done anything Gackt had asked of him.
As You watched himself in the mirror, Gackt’s strong body moving behind him, owning him as his hands roughly bought You to completion, You realised that he had always done everything Gackt asked of him.
*~*~*~
The thirteenth time came quickly after and was so different You almost felt like checking Gackt’s ID to ensure it was the same guy.
The power and the strength were still there, but they existed only on stage now as Gackt’s body was rapidly and frequently breaking down away from it.
That time in Paris, with Gackt beneath him all wide eyed and trusting as You held him close and moved as slowly as his passion would allow, felt like a first time.
All of the questions came rushing back.
*~*~*~
The fourteenth time was the end.
They had been lying in Gackt’s dressing room, the walls decorated with kimonos and katanas, simply basking in the afterglow and waiting for their breathing to return to normal when it had finally happened.
“Why are we doing this, You? What does it mean?”
You knew, deep down, that it would be Gackt who would finally voice the questions You had so successfully ignored for the last seventeen years.
“Is this just sex? Is it… more?”
You had answered the questions to the best of his ability, but it was hard to voice answers that he couldn’t even form in his mind.
Gackt had bit his lip and nodded in understanding before getting dressed. He then gave You his answers to those same questions.
You understood… but was disappointed. Of all of the things in their entwined lives to disagree on, it had to be this.
The fourteenth time was the last.
~owari
You can decide your own ending and what their answers were.
Author - unwritten_ideas
Beta - write_my_dreams
Rating - PG-13, mention of m/m situations
Word Count - 1,416
Pairing - Gackt x You
Characters - Gackt, You
Disclaimer - don’t own squat and if I did, I’d be posting this with pictures
Summary - time after time it happened again and still those questions were never answered...
Notes - I had some free time today and this hit me. It's been written, beta read and posted within a day. That's a new record for me!
The first time they’d been young and stupid.
And drunk.
Incredibly drunk.
You had broken up with his girlfriend, and Gackt was fresh from yet another row with his father about his lack of suitable career and how his chosen profession, singing in a rock band of all things, was disgracing the good family name.
They had both needed someone they could talk to, someone who would listen and many shots of vodka.
They had found that in each other.
When they’d woken the next day, naked and wrapped together in You’s bed with hangovers the size of Tokyo Tower, they’d nervously smiled at each other and quickly agreed that it would never happen again.
*~*~*~
The second time, they were slightly older, but no less stupid.
Still drunk though.
It had been Gackt’s grand leaving party; farewell from Kyoto and all who lived there and good luck in Tokyo.
You had, since Gackt had announced his plans only three days earlier, spent every waking moment trying to organise the type of party that Gackt both deserved and would want. On You’s budget, that hadn’t been easy, but he had managed it.
It had meant that the full reality of what was happening, that his best friend was moving to the capital for a new band, new life and new beginning, hadn’t fully hit You until halfway through the party.
You had shared a taxi back home with Gackt, but had never made it back to his parent’s house, only three blocks away, as Gackt had invited him inside his apartment for one last drink.
One for the road.
You had still been there the next morning, with a sore head and heavy heart, as Gackt had watched the furniture removal men arrive and had handed his apartment key back.
You could still feel Gackt against his skin.
*~*~*~
Now, the third time was easily remembered.
You had never really cared for Tokyo, but he had found himself there anyway, surrounded by screaming fans, high heels and more make up than he ever wanted to see again.
Gackt had greeted him warmly after the concert had finished and had left his bandmates, smiles for Kami, Közi and Yu~ki and a badly disguised scowl for Mana, in favour of spending time with You.
You had been expecting Gackt to be as happy and full of life as he was during his scarce phone calls. Instead, he’d been faced with a Gackt who knew that everything he had worked so hard for was falling apart, and was now desperately trying to salvage it.
Neither of them were drunk that night.
When that phone call came three weeks later from a scarily detached Gackt to say that he’d been kicked out of Malice Mizer, You wasn’t surprised at all.
*~*~*~
The fourth, fifth and sixth time all blurred together.
A combination of foreign smells, foreign food, foreign alcohol and jet lag that just would not pass meant that of those first few days in LA, all You could remember was the way Gackt’s voice cracked when he came.
You didn’t see much of LA during those first few days. He was either recording, or finding a little bit of home in Gackt’s hotel room.
*~*~*~
By the seventh time, maybe, they should have talked about it.
It had been difficult though. Gackt was stressed by the responsibility and constant disasters that followed his first tour wherever it went. It was hard to talk to the singer about anything other than lighting cues, the sound mix or crowd reaction.
It seemed that during that whole tour, the only time Gackt relaxed, truly relaxed and simply existed as a person instead of a superstar being pulled in ten different directions, was that evening he spent in You’s arms.
How could You have questioned the strange relationship they had, whatever the hell it was, when Gackt looked so at peace and content?
*~*~*~
In the end, You was glad he didn’t ask any questions about that seventh time.
It would have been embarrassing to have that conversation then, only for the eighth time to not happen until five years later. You had almost forgotten about those seven times, they only existed in fragments of his memory and were as distant as the time he won the art competition at his Junior High School. They existed in his dreams though, maybe… He could never be quite sure if the figure that haunted his dreams was Gackt or not.
He was certain, however, that those seven times never crossed Gackt’s mind.
It was Christmas and although You had never cared for the holiday or truly understood it, he had to admit it was a magical time to finally play the Tokyo Dome.
The show had been amazing. Gackt had been amazing.
And when Gackt, stone cold sober but still slightly buzzed from the adrenaline of the show, had asked You to accompany him home in a tone of voice that You had only heard on seven previous occasions, You readily agreed.
*~*~*~
You had stopped fooling himself by the ninth time.
Before, he’d been full of questions.
Why are we doing this?
What does it mean?
It is just sex?
Is it… more?
But, by the ninth time, he realised that he’d known the answers all along.
*~*~*~
No longer worrying about those questions and answers, meant that You could just lie back and enjoy the tenth time for what it was. Not that he ever got much chance to just lie back when he was in bed with Gackt.
Not that he wanted to, either.
Gackt noticed the change in You’s behaviour and merely smiled as he thrust inside.
*~*~*~
The eleventh time was a surprise.
Gackt had just finished that drama and was home for the first time after months of being a samurai. He was different… Aged and more mature, as if some of Uesugi Kenshin had permanently implanted itself inside of Gackt.
He had looked at You with questions in his eyes as You had laid him down on the bed. There had been a question on his tongue, waiting to be spoken when You entered him.
You stole it away with a kiss.
*~*~*~
It was another three years before the twelfth time.
You was starting to think that Gackt was avoiding the silent arrangement they had, but when Gackt grabbed him by the arm when they were still sweaty, breathing heavy and half naked after finishing the Otoko Matsuri and dragged him into Gackt’s dressing room, You was glad of the passage of time.
Gackt was such a heady mix of beauty and testosterone, tiredness and power and simple raw, undisguised lust that You would have done anything Gackt had asked of him.
As You watched himself in the mirror, Gackt’s strong body moving behind him, owning him as his hands roughly bought You to completion, You realised that he had always done everything Gackt asked of him.
*~*~*~
The thirteenth time came quickly after and was so different You almost felt like checking Gackt’s ID to ensure it was the same guy.
The power and the strength were still there, but they existed only on stage now as Gackt’s body was rapidly and frequently breaking down away from it.
That time in Paris, with Gackt beneath him all wide eyed and trusting as You held him close and moved as slowly as his passion would allow, felt like a first time.
All of the questions came rushing back.
*~*~*~
The fourteenth time was the end.
They had been lying in Gackt’s dressing room, the walls decorated with kimonos and katanas, simply basking in the afterglow and waiting for their breathing to return to normal when it had finally happened.
“Why are we doing this, You? What does it mean?”
You knew, deep down, that it would be Gackt who would finally voice the questions You had so successfully ignored for the last seventeen years.
“Is this just sex? Is it… more?”
You had answered the questions to the best of his ability, but it was hard to voice answers that he couldn’t even form in his mind.
Gackt had bit his lip and nodded in understanding before getting dressed. He then gave You his answers to those same questions.
You understood… but was disappointed. Of all of the things in their entwined lives to disagree on, it had to be this.
The fourteenth time was the last.
~owari
You can decide your own ending and what their answers were.