"Takanori," He took a deep breath through his bandana and resisted the urge to pull out a cigarette from his pocket. "What exactly am I to you?"
Matsumoto Takanori looked down. He was usually so full of words, Aoi had told him that many times, but then, at that moment, none could come out of his mouth. His beautiful, booming voice seemed to be lost as he fidgeted in his sleepwear behind the open door.
Silence hung between them as they both looked away. Akira focused on a wall and Takanori seemed to have taken an interest in his toes as the question hung, unanswered between them.
Akira wasn't one of patience, but he waited. Because waiting just seemed like the right thing to do at that moment.
But in the end, it seemed that his curiosity wasn't as strong as his patience.
"Never mind then…" Akira said, running a hand absentmindedly through his bleached blond hair. He had to admit that he was disappointed. Hell, he could feel it eating away at him. He let out a long sigh and a scowl hung on his face as he turned and walked back down the long corridor.
But really, what exactly had he been expecting?
Honestly, he didn't know what was wrong with himself. It was late. Late enough that there seemed to be a heavy silence of nighttime hung in the dimly lit streets. But it didn't matter to Akira. He had to know. He just had to know.
He had to know what in the bloody world he was to Takanori.
That was a thought that had been bugging Akira for a while now. It was like an annoying mosquito in the warm summer seasons spent in Kanagawa. No matter how much you try to swat it away or run from it, it always seemed to be there, flying around your head with an irritating buzzing noise trailing behind.
What he was to Takanori. That was the thought that constantly kept him up at night. It was always there. It consumed him and filled his mind with things he shouldn't think about. That made him insecure, unconfident, in the very thought of just being himself. It made him quiet during band meets as he would look at Takanori and question what the hell was going through that little head of his.
They were friends, weren't they?
That's what Akira had forced himself to believe all this time. Sure, he and Takanori did everything that friends did. They hang out and do stupid shit together. Like normal friends, right? That's what Akira had told himself many, many times.
But then again, they also did many things that normal friends didn't do. That is, unless normal friends touched and fucked each other.
At one point, Akira wondered if they were, perhaps, "friends with benefits". But that just didn't sound right to him. He felt that maybe, Takanori was more than just that.
Akira was able to successfully suppress these thoughts until just a little while ago. His childhood friend Takashima Kouyou had taken, or maybe "dragged" was a more accurate word to describe what had happened, him out drinking. When alcohol started to get to their head, everything seemed to have caught on fire as heat raged through their blood. It just felt easier to talk and jumbled words just started flowing out.
"Oi, Kou."
"Mmm, whatssaapppp?"
"How do you think Takanori feels about me?"
"Whatssaall this about, Aki?"
"I…I think I like him…"
"I think we awwwwllll like him~"
"No. I think…Maybe…that I like him more than just a friend."
"Aren't you guys more than friends already?"
"I…I don't know, man."
"I think he likes you more than a friend."
"Are you just being an asshole and saying that to make me happy?"
"Now, does that make you happy?"
"…Yeah, I guess it does."
"Then you should go tell him that, dumbass. Maybe he'll be happy too."
He had to admit, that it had sounded like a good idea at the time.
He had walked to Takanori's apartment with confidence built on a foundation of alcohol. He had visualized it all in his head many times already. He would walk down the long corridor of doors leading up to the familiar door of Takanori's looking all badass in his heavy combat boots like the hero in those epic action movies. And you know what, fuck it. Let's add heroic playing in the background to this picture as well. Then after he would knock on Takanori's door, fix his (non-exsitant) collar, and would be greeted by a cute Takanori in sleepwear (because it was late after all, but like Akira gave a shit about the time) and he would confess like the cool headed bishie in a shojo manga. Then Takanori would blush, a very cute picture in Akira's imagination indeed, and admit that he liked Akira more than a friend as well, resulting in a very happy ending and some sore hips the next morning.
That was, at least, what he had rehearsed in his head…but in reality, it didn't go so smoothly…
Well, at least the first part had gone well. He did indeed walk down that hall of doors looking all badass, just as he had imagined with epic hero music playing in his head, and knocked on Takanori's door. Confidence brewed in his stomach and he felt like he could take down some ninjas if there was a need at that time. But all that vanished instantly as he was greeted by the scowling face of a very grumpy Takanori at the door.
"What the fuck is your problem? Do you know how late it is?"
Oh shit.
Didn't consider the possibility that he'd be sleeping, now did you know, dear Akira.
"Urm…I…"
Takanori sighed and the scowl disappeared from his face, replaced by a cute little smirk as he watched Akira fidget in his chunky combat boots.
"Since youre here, Akira…Do you wanna come in?"
"Actually, Takanori…I wanted to ask you something…"
"Ok, we can talk in the hall if you want." Takanori rolled his eyes as he leaning against the doorframe. His arms were crossed in front of his chest as he waited for Akira to speak.
"Takanori…what exactly am I to you?"
Akira was a coward. And he knew it. But all the confidence he had before, every single drop of it had instantly vanished when he had been greeted by Takanori at the door. His foundation of confidence had collapse and everything fell with it, replaced by a bitter uneasiness in his stomach.
"What exactly am I to you?"
He had just blurted it out, the words slipping from his mouth. He was planning on confessing first, he did. But he was scared…So scared that he didn't know what the hell he was thinking and asked the question that basically forced Takanori to speak first.
And he had walked away, without an answer.
Akira was not only a coward, but he was stupid too. And he most definitely knew it.
That's what brought him to the situation he was in now, wasn't it?
As he retraced his back down the long hallway with doors on either side from Takanori's apartment, disappointment washed over him like a storm. But really, what had he been expecting? Why would someone like Takanori, who was the witty, sexy vocalist of one of the most popular Japanese rock bands out there like a cowardly, idiotic man like him when he could have any one of those beautiful female fans out there screaming his name?
Well, in a way Akira had gotten an answer, didn't he?
It was late, and the day's activities had finally seemed to taken a toll on Akira. He wanted to go home and just lie in his bed, maybe smoke a few packs of cigarettes and hope to die from lung cancer. It wasn't like he could sleep anyway. And that way, he wouldn't have to face Takanori again, right? He could avoid all the awkward situations that would arise from this night.
He brainlessly pushed the elevator button and listened to the soft clinking sounds from the elevator making its way up the shaft. Akira stood there silently, willing the elevator to move faster, waiting for the shiny metal doors to open. Maybe once he got in the elevator, it would just do a free fall with him in it. That was already what his heart felt like, so what difference would it make if his body did that as well?
Akira looked at his reflection in the warped elevator doors.
He was pathetic.
Now, let's add that to the list along with stupid and cowardly.
The elevator made a dinging noise as the doors slid open gracefully. Akira was the opposite. He grunted and stumbled his way into the little metal box.
The elevator shook slightly as someone else ran in behind him.
"Akira, wait!"
Strong arms wrapped around his torso as he felt a small body press against his own.
"Akira, what the hell is wrong with you? You show up at my door in the middle of the night and ask me that?"
"Im sorry, Taka—"
"Shut up and listen to me, ok?" His voice was muffled and he pressed his face into the back of Akira's leather jacket. "You suddenly asked me that…I was surprised…and I didn't know what to say. I like you, Akira. Honestly more than I should. I know we call ourselves 'friends', but…I…"
"I want to be more with you."
Akira can't remember how long he and Takanori just stood in the motionless elevator like that. Takanori held onto Akira and both of them slowly let the words spoken sink. Akira didn't know what to think…The emotions inside of him were brewing and mixing together and it seemed to hang thickly in the atmosphere.
The seemed to stand there forever, with Takanori's arms wrapped tightly against Akira. Akira could feel Takanori's warmth through his clothes, and he could feel his heart beating in sync with Takanori's. Takanori's shallow breaths seemed to echo in the elevator as they just held onto each other.
"I like you, Akira. Hell, I love you. I just didn't know how you would…feel about me…"
"I…love you too."
Slowly, Takanori pulled away. His small hand slid down Akira's arm, calloused fingertips tracing down his veins and slid his hand gently into Akira's hand. Slowly, he led the bassist out of the tiny metal box and down the hall.
"Akira, let's go to bed, ok?"
Akira nodded, because that was probably all he could do at the moment. He was sure that if he tried to talk, all the words would just tumble out like mush. Everything he knew seemed to be gone as he was led back to Takanori's little apartment.
Takanori pushed Akira through the open door. He had rushed out after the blond in such a rush that everything was forgotten. The door, his sleepwear, his bare feet. Everything was discarded as he ran after Akira. He felt like everything would break if he didn't. But nothing mattered now, except for his overwhelming feelings for his friend.
Or "lover", as of now.
"Take off your badass combat boots and meet me in the bedroom." Takanori said, as he let go of Akira's hand and teasingly stroked up his thigh before pulling away.
Akira snickered and nodded. "Sure, baby." Guess he wasn't the only one who thought his shoes were badass. He watched Takanori walk into the dark apartment, discarding his oversized pajama shirt on the ground as he walked towards the bedroom.
Akira quickly kicked off his shoes, silently cursing at the laces. He threw them against the wall and walked in the familiar apartment. He stripped off his jacket and shirt and left them beside Takanori's on the hardwood floor and walked towards the bedroom. He could feel his pulse as he twisted the doorknob only to have it escalate more as his eyes took in a naked Takanori lying on the bed.
"Holy shit…Takanori…you're beautiful."
Takanori looked up, throwing him a glare.
"Shut up, baka. You've already seen my body like, a billion times."
"But not as lovers."
Lovers. That sounded nice to Akira. The word had a nice ring to it as it slipped from his lips. He smiled to himself.
"What the hell? What difference does it make?"
"It just…seems more…special."
"You're drunk."
"Am not."
"You smell drunk."
"Why does it matter?"
"You're right. So get your pretty little cock over here."
"Little? It is not little!"
"Will you stop arguing and fuck me already?"
Akira laughed. It had always been nice to spend time with Takanori, no matter what they were doing. Whether they were practicing songs, playing video games, or having sex, it always made Akira happy to be able to be with Takanori.
Akira pulled off his pants and boxers and discarded them on the floor by the bed. He made sure to put on a little show for Takanori, running his long slender fingers along the waistline of his jeans before pulling his zipper down so slow that he thought maybe, he could hear each and every little click of the teeth on his zipper.
He walked over to the bed and crawled onto Takanori, pressing his lips gently to the smaller man's. The small vocalist tangled his fingers into Akira's blond hair, pulling the bassist down gently while massaging his scalp. With every lick, every nibble, Akira felt himself get more and more excited. The anticipation of the pleasure surely to come just made him want to kiss Takanori harder, to press him into the mattress and suffocate him with his lips.
As their tongues fought for dominance in each other's mouths, Akira felt the pair of small hands slide from his hair, down his wide shoulders to his chest. Calloused fingertips tweaked and rubbed his hardening nipples and he couldn't stop himself from moaning into Takanori's mouth.
Akira's own hand slid down Takanori's body, running it gently along his hipbone, before moving to his most intimate part. He stroked his lover a few times, traced a finger up and down a vein, before wrapping his large hand around it and pumped gently. Shivers travelled up Takanori's body, bringing out beautiful noises as the skin of his cock was dragged up and down by Akira's skillful hand.
Together, they panted in the dim light, warm breathes mingled together with an occasional moan or groan. Hands slid up and down bodies and wet lips pressed against pale smooth flesh.
It was all beautiful to Akira.
"Aki…I want you…"
Akira nodded and pecked his little lover gently on the lips before moving away to grab the lube they kept in Takanori's bedside table drawer from previous times. He flicked open the bottle cap and squished a generous amount out onto his fingers. The bottle made a soft, wet sound as the lube slid out making Akira look up at Takanori and smirk to himself. Call him childish, but he was excited.
Takanori laid back on a pile of pillows, legs parted, playing with himself while watching Akira. Occasionally, he let out a soft moan, taunting Akira with his voice. He could tell that his blond lover was excited from that stupid, childish smirk that hung on his face as he squished lube onto his fingers.
"Come on Akira…" Takanori whispered between moans, "Hurry up, baby."
"I know, I know."
Akira moved closer and sat between Takanori's legs. He held up his slicked middle finger and licked it before moving it to Takanori's puckered hole. Just as he was about to stick in it, the little vocalist burst out into laughter.
"GEEZUS TAKANORI, WHAT THE HELL?"
Takanori's little body shook with laughter. "Oh my god, that was just really kinky." He gave Akira one of his brilliant smiles and parted his legs wider. "Come on, keep going."
"You just ruined the mood."
A taunting smile lit Takanori's face. "And you want me to do something about that?"
Akira looked at him and pushed his finger into Takanori's waiting warmth and started pumping. He heard the little singer gasp at the sudden intrusion.
"I'll do something about that." Akira leaned forward and whispered into his lover's neck.
Takanori wrapped his slender arms around Akira's neck, pulling him close. As Akira added another finger, Takanori's shallow gasps turned into moans, his warm breath brushing past the soft hairs by Akira's ear.
The sounds Takanori was making made Akira jealous of his own hand. Really, at that moment, the only thing he wanted to do was fuck Takanori into the bed, making the little vocalist scream his name in pleasure.
But Akira didn't.
Because he was fucking nice and more importantly, didn't want to hurt Takanori. Carefully, he pushed a third finger through, brushing gently on the hot walls of Takanori's hole with his calloused fingers.
Loud moans forced their way out from the little vocalist's throat. Takanori shifted on the bed. He actually enjoyed the small pain of being stretched. And it wasn't like he wasn't used to it. It was only a little bit of pain before the overwhelming pleasure.
"Akira…Just put it in already."
Now Akira wasn't going to disagree, was he?
Akira pulled his fingers out and covered himself with lube. He couldn't help but moan as he touched himself with his own lube slicked fingers. He positioned himself at Takanori's hole and pushed in slowly.
"Ahhh…nnmm…"
Takanori's beautiful voice filled the room and Akira let out a jagged breath. They stayed still for a while as Akira waited for Takanori to adjust to his size. After a while, Takanori pushed against Akira, giving him the signal to move.
Akira began thrusting into Takanori's small body gently, the two of them setting an even pace. Hands roamed and fingertips traced whispers of love across skin. Akira pressed his lips to his lover's, capturing all the escaping moans. No words were spoken as their lips were too busy to murmur them as they kissed.
As they pulled apart, they gasped for air, like fish out of water. If Akira was a fish, then Takanori would be his water.
His everything.
Akira shifted a little and continued thrusting. Takanori's moans escalated and he wrapped his arms even more tightly around Akira's neck.
"Ahh…ahh…ah…ah…"
"Found it, haven't I?"
Akira's quick, hard thrusts drew moans out of the little vocalist that seemed to have sung to him. It was only expected from the vocalist of one of the most popular Visual-Kei groups, but these were sounds that Akira, and only Akira, could bring out of the younger man.
Gasps and moans filled the room as Akira continued pounding into Takanori, making sure to hit that spot every time. His big hands slid down Takanori's body, palms pressed against the flawless skin of Takanori's stomach. Long fingers dug into hips with such force that it was likely to bruise.
Their speed increased as the need for release grew. Akira leaned forward and kissed the mole on Takanori's chin, the one the little vocalist hated and covered with makeup every time. He thought it was cute though. And hell, he loved it. He loved all of Matsumoto Takanori.
"Akira…Ugh…touch me too…"
Akira obeyed, one of his hands blindly searching for Takanori's cock between their sweaty bodies. Akira's hand wrapped around it and pumped it to his thrusting. Takanori became a mere mess of moans and short, heavy pants. A hitched moan escaped as the hand wrapped around his cock began stroking more and more roughly as both of them neared orgasm.
Takanori arched his back with a small cry and a warm sticky fluid filled Akira's hand. Akira couldn't hold it any longer. He gasped as he felt his own release and filled his little lover with his seed.
Their panting calmed to quiet whispers in the dark room. Akira carefully pulled out, earning a little groan from Takanori, smiling as he watched his essence trickle out of Takanori.
They laid down on the bed together, exhausted, not bothering with clothes or the blanket which had been discarded to the end of the bed. Clean up would have to wait for the morning.
Takanori leaned forwards, and wrapped his arms around Akira. He gently kissed the nose that was usually hidden by an annoying piece of cloth.
"Akira, always stay with me, okay?"
Akira tilted his face up to meet Takanori's lips with his own.
"Okay."
His fingers walked across collarbones and traced down pale hips that seemed to be submerged in the darkness like icebergs. Takanori gently caught his hand can pressed a little kiss in his palm, as if sealing a promise.
"Always."
And in the regained stillness of the night, with only the soft, hushed sounds of breathing, Akira stayed.
And stayed.
For much, much longer.
OMGILOVEYOUTHEGAZETTE
Hope you guys enjoyed that~ Took me a hell of a long time to write Q_Q (and it was my first time writing Reituk smut. Usually I write fluff or about Kuroshitsuji or Ouran)
Gazeboys dont belong to me. I wish they did but God just isnt that fucking nice. Ha ha ha, if I owned the GazettE, they'd probably be porn stars instead of J-rockers now o( w )o
Please check out my dA account too. I draw some pretty intense GazettE shit as well XlD yuuqing. deviantart. com (- No spaces, of course)
Ill be back soon (hopefully) with more GazettE smut XlD But now, I have to go study for my exam tomorrow ;A;