Disclaimer: I don't own Fushigi Yuugi. I can, however, claim the rights to Claudine, Bryon, Jean (as in the french name) and Marc... if you REALLY want to use them, go ahead... but they aren't all that interesting. And the song "Lost in an Illusion" is mine... wrote it myself!
Author's Note: I don't know if this has been done before, but I'm doing it. An Ayuru/Chuin romancey type thing. So.. in other words.. . SHOUNEN AI SHOUNEN AI SHOUNEN AI!!!!!!!!! is clear? Any reviews that I get telling me that gay is wrong will be ignored and deleted... or will get a hefty response ^_~
P.S. Bryon is NOT the reincarnation of Tasuki.. he just happens to love to swear.
Heaven's Door
by: Kokkei
Chapter One: A meeting
----
The young man wandered aimlessly on an unknown street. He was lost... lost in the city where he lived. Granted, he had just moved to New Orleans the day before, but to him, it was no excuse for getting lost. He was just turning the corner onto some street Barracks – he seemed to recall seeing it somewhere near his apartment building – when he was thrown backwards onto the ground.
"Sorry. Are you all right?"
Chuin Ryo stared, almost confused, at the hand that was extended for him. After a minute, he grasped it and pulled himself to his feet. Then, he looked up...
And was lost in bright pools of sapphire blue. The face that those eyes belonged to was just as intoxicating – long, straight nose, thin perfect lips, and long, slightly wavy hair the color of spun golden silk. He was taller than Chuin was... and more muscular. He was dressed much like a normal 20-something, wearing simple black pants with a red dragon curling up one pant leg, and a tight, black shirt covered by an un-buttoned button-down shirt the same color as the dragon. Chuin stared a few more seconds until the stranger spoke again.
"Hey, are you okay?" The stranger, who would say his name was Ayuru, was looking at him with slight concern in his eyes.
"Um, yeah... I-I'm fine," Chuin said, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I got lost trying to get back to my apartment. I just moved to New Orleans, and the city streets are confusing."
Ayuru gave him a sympathetic nod. He heard from countless people how confusing the streets of New Orleans were. "Where are you going? Maybe I can get you there."
"I moved here yesterday to an apartment on Chartres."
Ayuru remembered seeing a moving van sitting across the street from his own apartment for the better part of the day. "Ah, so you're my new neighbor."
Chuin's eyes lit up. "You live near me?"
"Right across the street," Ayuru explained. "I would love to stay and chat, but fact is, I'm late for practice, so I best get moving." He was a singer in a New Orleans' blues band. He and his band, Beaded Dragon, practiced every Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and every other Saturday in a loft on Dauphine Street. They had a regular spot in a blues club down Decatur, and played there two, sometimes three times a week.
Chuin nodded, but extended a hand. "I'm Chuin."
"Pleasure, I'm Ayuru," he said, shaking it. "I'll probably see you around." He walked passed Chuin, but the other man stopped him with his voice.
"Wait a sec... how do I get back to my apartment?"
Ayuru turned. "Go down this road a block. You'll see the street signs for Chartres. Take a right and you'll find your building."
"Thanks."
As Chuin watched the blond haired man walk away, he couldn't help think, *My God, is he beautiful.*
-----
"Christ, Ayuru, it's about damned time you showed up. We were just about to go on our lunch break."
Ayuru shot a wry smile at Jean, the bass player. "Lunch? Who needs it?"
"I fuckin' need it, 'Ru. I'm fuckin' starving." The drummer, Bryon, yelled. He was drumming his sticks on the back of the couch, close to Jean's head. The two of them got on each other's nerves to no end, but they trusted each other entirely. Jean didn't even flinch when Bryon's drum stick came within half an inch of his head.
"Okay, all right. I apologize. I overslept again." Ayuru flopped onto the empty lounge chair. Then, he sat up. "You know what? You guys go ahead and get lunch. I have an idea for a song."
Jean looked at Bryon, who just shrugged. "Let's fuckin' go, man."
After Jean and Bryon and the second guitar player, Marc, left for lunch, Ayuru sat down on the big and comfy yet ugly yellow couch with a pen and his song book. He thought for only a moment, then began to write furiously on the paper, scratching out a misused word here and there. As the song filtered from his mind to the pen, one person was the driving force behind it.
Hair of silver fell in a straight, smooth sheaf to the middle of his back. Amber spheres were his eyes, eyes that were calm, making it impossible to determine what he was thinking. He had a slender face, one that matched his lithe body. Today, when Ayuru had seen him, he had worn black leather pants with silver studs down the side seams and a tight, silver shirt through which Ayuru was sure he could see his ribcage.
Chuin was absolutely breathtaking.
Fifteen minutes later, Ayuru was finished. He picked up his guitar, propped it on his lap, and began to play and sing the song he had just written.
The sun is shining,
But my world's all grey.
The light is gone,
Left me in eternal night.
But something happened that I didn't expect.
And now I can't get you off my mind
In the flames of my dream's fire,
I see you, my true desire
And when fantasy becomes reality
I'm lost...
Lost in an illusion with you
I go through the motions,
Though my head is screaming.
It's so hard, but I'll have you yet
To mend the empty hole in my heart,
And end my loneliness.
In the flames of my dream's fire,
I see you, my true desire
And when fantasy becomes reality
I'm lost...
Lost in an illusion with you, yeah
I'm lost in an illusion with you
My guitar is bleeding,
But not as much as my heart
What can I do, to get to you?
So lost...
In the flames of my dream's fire,
I see you, my true desire
And when fantasy becomes reality
I'm lost
Oh when fantasy becomes reality,
I'm lost in an illusion with you
Lost in an illusion... with you.
When the song was over, Ayuru's hands were trembling. He took a deep breath, leaned back into the deep cushions of the couch and closed his eyes. How could a stranger, who he had just met on the street inspire such a song? It wasn't very bluesy, but he didn't think the guys would have a problem with it. Bryon might bitch about doing a love song, but in the end, he'd go with whatever Jean said.
Just then, the door flung open and Bryon burst into the room, balancing a carrier of drinks in one hand, and an entire pie in the other. Jean came in behind him carrying three bags of Chinese takeout.
"We brought ya food 'Ru!" Bryon called out enthusiastically.
Ayuru sat up, regarded the young man with a small smile. Bryon was what most would call "cute." He had a round, smooth baby face and brown eyes that looked liked they belonged to a lost puppy. His hair was about shoulder-length, and jet-black, belying his Cajun heritage. To look at him, you'd never know he was a foul-mouthed, rambunctious drummer in a blues band.
Jean was the oldest of the group at 24. He kept his brown hair cut short, and always wore dark sunglasses over his green eyes. He wore them at night, during practice, and everyone joked that he wore them to bed. Ayuru wouldn't be surprised if he did.
Marc was the quiet one. Twenty-one years of age – the same as Ayuru and Bryon – he rarely said two words to any of them. His hair was in an afro-like state, red and curly, and he had freckles adorning his face and arms. He left the others to make the decisions, and went along with whatever the band said. Even though he was quite and shy, Marc was great at making music fit together. Ayuru wrote most of the songs, but he always had Marc help him with the arranging.
"Thanks," Ayuru slid over to the end of the couch to make for the others. Jean handed him a container of noodles and one of rice, while Bryon set a fountain drink of Coke in front of him.
"Did you get your song written?" Jean asked.
Ayuru nodded. "Yeah, it's done."
Jean lifted an eyebrow. "Done? Completely? How the hell did you do that?"
The blonde shrugged. "It just came to me all at once. Do you guys want to hear it?"
"Fuck yeah!" Bryon piped up.
Ayuru picked up his guitar, but before he began, he looked at the band. "I'm warning you, it's not like what we usually do. It's a little, slow."
"Eh? What --?" Bryon started, but Ayuru began strumming the opening cords to his song, so he shut his mouth.
A few minutes later, when Ayuru had finished, the three other members of Beaded Dragon were speechless. Either that, or they were about to throw him out of the band.
Jean cleared his throat. "Ayuru, that – "
" – was amazing," Bryon finished. "Fuckin' amazing."
Jean glared at his best friend, then continued. "I think it's the best thing you've ever written, and we need to perform it tomorrow night at the club."
"T-t-tomorrow?"
Everyone turned as the small voice of Marc filled the room. "Do you really think we're ready for that?"
Ayuru smiled. "That's what we have you for, Marc."
The young man gulped visibly.
-----
Knock knock knock
*Go away.*
Knock knock knock
*I swear... if you don't go away, I'll -*
Knockknockknockknock
"Christ, I'm coming!" Ayuru pushed back the covers and crawled out of bed. "This better be important," he grumbled, as he stumbled through his apartment and to the door. Glancing at his watch – that said 8:30 – he saw that he had almost three more hours before he had to get up. "This better be damned good."
He opened the door, wearing only his boxers, and gaped, nearly wide-eyed at the person who stood on the other side. "Chuin."
"Uh, g'morning, Ayuru," he said uncertainly. Ayuru watched as his face turned crimson upon seeing only boxers.
"Come in," he said, before turning and walking back into the bedroom to throw some clothes on. He chose a pair of jeans and a white gauze shirt with blue embroidery on it. In the bathroom, he ran a brush through his hair quickly, then made his way back into the living/dining/kitchen area and found Chuin sitting comfortably in an easy chair. He was wearing khakis and button down black shirt with flames licking up the front and back.
"So, what brings you to my apartment at 8:30 in the morning?"
Chuin blushed again. "Well, I was kinda hoping you could tell me where I might find a job bartending around here."
"You tend bar?"
Chuin nodded. "For three years. I had a decent job in PA, but I had to get the hell out of there. I've always wanted to come to New Orleans, so I figured what the hell."
Ayuru sat thoughtfully for a few moments. "Le Bon is always looking for bartenders," he blurted out. *Way to go, Ayuru, just tell him where you play.*
"Le Bon? Is that where your band plays?"
"H – how did you know I had a band?"
Chuin grinned. "Well, you said you were on your way to practice yesterday... and I figured it wasn't for the local ballet troupe."
Ayuru chuckled. "Ah ha.. good point. Yes, that's where my band plays." Why was he telling him these things? *You should know better, dummy. Don't get too close... you know what happens when you get too close!*
"Cool, I'll stop by there and see if they could use me. Where's it at?"
"It's on Decatur."
Chuin gave him a blank stare. "There's a street here called Decatur?"
Ayuru sighed. "Let me put my shoes on and I'll show you."
As the two walked to the club in a comfortable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Ayuru was berating himself for telling Chuin where the band played. The guys in the band knew his secret, but that was as far as it went. He couldn't allow himself to get close to someone. Especially someone as frail-looking as Chuin.
Even if he was terribly beautiful.
Chuin, on the other hand, was in deep thought over Ayuru. *He's so cool,* he thought. *But, he's seemed so distant somehow since I met him.*
"We're here," Ayuru said.
The other, who realized he stood half a head shorter than Ayuru, stopped and gazed up at huge building. "This is the club?"
"Yeah... or, the first floor is. The second and third are apartments."
A large, french-style building sat close to the road. It had iron-work on all the windows, the doors, and even on the stones themselves. Outside, in ornate, script letters were the words "Le Bon."
"You coming in?" Ayuru called from the door.
"Uh-huh," Chuin muttered, following. There was no way a place as fancy-looking as this was going to give him a job.
The inside, though, was nothing like the outside. A dark blue floor stretched across the interior of the room. The bar was an island in a rectangular shape in the center of the room. It had to be at least fifteen feet long. At the bar, drying glasses, was a woman probably in her late twenties.
"Bonjour Claudine," Ayuru greeted, waving to her.
She looked up, and a grin broke out on her face. "Bonjour 'Ru! Ça va?"
"Bien," he answered her. "This is Chuin. He's looking for a job tending bar."
Claudine put down the glass she was drying and shook Chuin's hand. "You have any experience?"
"Yes. I've been tending bar for three years." Chuin smiled at Claudine's french accent. He thought the french had a very awesome language... and accent.
"Ah, tres bien. You're hired. Can you start tonight?"
Ayuru left out a quiet groan, while Chuin smiled brightly. "Sure!" he said.
------
Ayuru stood under the hot running of his shower, his eyes closed, relaxing as much as he could. Today had been a good day. *You didn't come out, today,* he thought. *Planning something?* he added bitterly.
The water ran down his body, swirled around in the bottom of the shower, and continued on down the drain, to be carried to some dark, smelly sewer. "Much like my life," he muttered. He shook his emphatically. "No, Ayuru, don't think like that. When you think like that, he comes."
He stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and went into his bedroom. Ayuru had a huge walk-in closet, which was great, considering he was a musician. The band made pretty good money at the club – they got 15 percent of the cover at the door, plus what the owner paid them to play there – so he had, over the course of a few years, put together a wardrobe that was rather impressive.
He stood there a few moments, debating. *Chuin is going to be there tonight. Should I look extra good, or just good?* Finally, deciding that he shouldn't like someone he had just met dictate what he wore to perform, he chose a pair of brown leather pants, that had rawhide criss-crossed up the sides (not showing any leg), and stretchy, super-tight, long-sleeved brown shirt. The shirt usually came off after the third song, however, due to the sauna-like conditions of the club. Most of the time, there was standing-room only at their shows.
Ayuru checked his watch, saw it was time to head up to the loft to get ready. Pulling on his brown boots, he ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath, and walked down the stairs to the street.
The scent of the french quarter hit him first. Sweat and alcohol invaded his nose. Then, a breeze swept up – a cool breeze from the river, bringing with it the fish and the garbage. The wind and the smells calmed Ayuru, made him realize why he lived in this city in the first place.
He turned up Chartres and had taken only a step when a voice called to him. "Hey, Ayuru! I need to ask you something."
Spinning around, a black blur was running toward him. Chuin stopped a few from him. "Is this good to work in the club? Claudine didn't really specify what I should wear."
Ayuru gave him an appraising run-down. Again, he wore black leather pants, but these had a streak of red down the sides. His shirt – if you could call it a shirt – was completely see-through, made out of a black mesh material. It was sleeveless, and clung to his chest, his back, and his abs. Extending from his neck and flowing down his shoulder to his forearm was a huge, tribal tattoo. *How hadn't I noticed that before?* Ayuru thought. Chuin's hair was loose, fluttering about his face in the breeze, and black eyeliner had been ever-so-carefully applied to the top and bottom eyelids. This young man, who acted so shy, seemed to have a wild streak. Ayuru liked that.
In a word, Chuin looked hot, but he wasn't about to tell him that.
"That's perfect for the club. Claudine will love it, I'm sure. I talked to her earlier this evening, and she seems to have taken a liking to you." Ayuru stood with his hands crossed lightly across his chest, mainly to stop his heart from beating so fast.
"Claudine? She likes me?" Chuin blushed a fierce pink.
"Do you like her?" *Might as well get it out in the open...*
"Uh, she's not really my type," Chuin admitted, avoiding Ayuru's gaze.
"Why not? She's rather beautiful."
Chuin looked at him then, a rather intense look glowing in his eyes. "She's not a man," he said, though it was barely audible.
Ayuru lifted one slim eyebrow. "Ah. I see." He began walking up the road. "I have to get to the loft and help the guys with the equipment. Good luck tonight."
"Uh, thanks." Chuin watched him go, a sad look his eyes. Then he spun around and began walking down Chartres in the direction of the club. "You fucked up this time, Chu," he whispered to himself. "Now he hates you... he's not gay, and you just practically threw yourself at him. You're really smooth."
His good mood faltered, but was brought instantly alive again when he saw the club. There was a line of people that ended at the next block. *Must be a pretty hot club,* he thought. He walked up to the door, where he was stopped.
"Hey, you on the list?" The doorman, a big burly fellow with too much facial hair and a pot belly, pushed his hand against Chuin's chest.
"I'm not sure. Claudine just hired me today to be a bartender," he answered truthfully.
"Name?"
"Chuin."
The door man looked over the list he had attached to a clipboard. "Ah... yep. You're right here. Go on in."
A girl who stood at the front of the line gave Chuin a dirty glare as he walked through the door. He just shrugged and grinned at her.
Once inside, he wound his through throngs of people, clouds of smoke and burst of raucous laughter. It was only seven o'clock, but the club was already packed. He got to the bar where Claudine was still setting up.
"Salut, Chu!" she said, smiling. "Glad you're here, it's going to be a busy night, non?"
Claudine had thick, straight, auburn colored hair that looked almost deep purple. A triangular face, with green eyes that blazed like traffic lights, certainly made her extremely attractive. Even if Chuin were straight, he knew he was no where near her league.
"I didn't get a chance to thank you before... so merci boucoup!" he yelled over the noise.
"No problem, cherie. Just be ready to work your ass off tonight! There are two sides. I get one, you get the other. Since you have experience, you probably won't need my help."
Chuin ducked under the counter and moved to his side of the bar that conveniently faced the stage. *Oh, great. Now he gets to glare at me from the stage.* He considered asking Claudine to switch, decided against it. *If he can't handle it, it's his problem, not mine.*
------
In the dressing rooms at the back of the club, Beaded Dragon prepared to go on stage. Ayuru paced restlessly from wall to wall, nervous as hell about singing his brand new song... especially with the inspiration for tending the bar. Even Bryon was quiet, going over his drum solos in his head. Jean sat on a stool, his eyes closed, humming the bars to his part. Marc, as usual, was deadly silent.
The door to the room opened. "Ready?" asked a middle-aged man, the club's owner. "Full house tonight."
"You'd expect any different?"
The man grinned. "Hell no. Go get 'em guys!"
And as Ayuru walked out on stage to face a thundering audience, his eyes locked with a pair of amber ones halfway across the room.