Chapter 2 -Fall to Ibiza

Akihiko pushed his suitcase across the threshold and wiped his brow. He was used to moving other people's luggage in his part time gig but this was different. If his luggage represented his emotional baggage with Ugetsu, he was finally ready to move on. Akihiko rested his gaze on the honey blonde who fussily piled a duffle bag on top of his suitcase then huffed in remembrance and disappeared again.

The drummer indulged in a light chuckle. He will miss seeing these endearing gestures, their light banter, and the way Haruki hummed over the cutting board preparing breakfast. Mafuyu's song had given him closure and now he burned with a new purpose. As soon as he pieced his life together, he wanted to ask Haruki if he would be willing to re-explore their impasse, all those nights ago when they both were near tears, one from fear and concern, the other from frustration and sadness. Next time, it would be different.

Wait for me.

"Akihiko, you don't have to move out right away you know," Haruki sounded exasperated. "You can at least stay until you get furniture at your new place."

Too precious. Akihiko stepped forward to poke him squarely on his forehead and watched amused as it caused Haruki to squint, "Yes mother." He was so damn easy to tease. "I also promise to eat my vegetables and read a bedtime story each and every night."

Haruki started to chuckle but trailed off when he envisioned Maruta reading to Akihiko.

The subtle change didn't go unnoticed. Akihiko closed their distance by enveloping him in a tight hug. "Cheer up Haru." The short-haired blonde took the opportunity to bury his nose in those silky locks. "You'll still see me at practice. You can't get rid of me that easily."

Haruki sounded muffled against his neck as he lightly and awkwardly patted him on the back. "Yeah well, then stop adding salt to those expired salads from the convenience store. You're going to end up with kidney stones by 40 then where would I be?"

Akihiko laughed into his hair. This attentive man would be the end of him. A small flame of hope blossomed in Akihiko's chest. Maybe there was still a place for him in this incredible person's heart.

That was September. Akihiko was in for a surprise by December.


Haruki spent far more time in the music studio these days. He sometimes scheduled practice sessions back to back. It made sense now that CORE formally signed to publish their first album. With only two songs in their repertoire and a mountain of logistics on his shoulders, there was a lot of work to be done.

Akihiko placed his helmet on the cafe counter, taking note of the Christmas decor even though the holiday was still a month away, his eyes wandered in search of a tall honey blonde. Any holiday cheers escaped him when he wasn't greeted by a familiar smile but a short chirpy barista. He felt slightly miffed as he placed an order for an americano. Didn't Haruki work weekend shifts at the café?

When she handed him his order, he quenched his annoyance in his beverage and turned to leave when he spotted a signature ponytail hunched over a laptop.

"Yatake," he acknowledged even as he recalled Haruki's best friend didn't hold him in high regards. "Where's Haruki?" He gestured to the counter with his paper cup.

Yatake looked up wearily over the rim of his glasses, studied him for a long second as if deciding whether it was worth the trouble and concluded with a sigh by closing his laptop, "He didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

The spectacled man looked like the textbook definition of an impending headache as he rubbed his temples. "He hadn't worked here since you guys signed with CORE."

Akihiko frowned. This topic never came up. "Why?"

"Too busy I guess, you've seen the million things he does for the band. I keep telling him to slow down but noooo , he doesn't listen." Yatake ran a hand through his hair. "I told him to cut you off for mooching too, he hadn't listened to that either!" His hand dropped to the table with a thud. "Look, I still have my reservations about you and absolutely hate the way you lead him on but… I believe you care." He conceded grudgingly and continued more calmly, "Haruki is trying his best for the band but often I don't think he considers what's best for him."

Dark eyes regarded him levelly, "You should talk to him. It's not my place to tell."

Leaving Akihiko alone with his thoughts.


Mafuyu gulped down water like a man dying of thirst. He wiped the corner of his mouth as he rasped thanks to Uenoyama-kun. They had been recording the same song for the twenth time now and for once it was Haruki and not his perfectionist boyfriend who insisted they strive for excellence.

"On this part, can we try emphasising the chorus? And at the end, can the guitar riff hang for longer?" Mafuyu watched their leader chew on his red pen cap then proceeded to circle his point.

"Haruki-san, is there a reason we have to record it by Christmas?"

"Hmm?" Amber eyes looked up from paper.

"I mean, if we're releasing for Christmas, we'd have published already."

Uenoyama echoed him, "Right. Aren't we rushing things a bit? It's only been two months since we signed. Hiiragi's label is giving them 6 months to produce their record."

Akihiko wiped sweat from his chin with his T-shirt as he watched the exchange. The two younger members were doing a fine job asking questions he himself wondered. Yatake's words weighed on his mind. Something changed in their easygoing bandmate, and this shift was as noticeable as Akihiko's own effort to change.

"Mik-...Tsuda-san," Haruki cleared his throat, a rosy blush made its way to his cheeks as he shuffled the music sheets into order, Akihiko's brow furrowed, "has arranged for us to be the opening act for Bewitched. This is big!" Haruki implored them. "We'll be joining their Japan tour in the spring, this is our big break if we can release before the tour..."

Mikumi Tsuda had been their manager since CORE signed their label. He arranged for a new promotion shoot the day after their brunch together. The man was professional, practised, and obviously understood the industry's in's and out's. Not that Haruki's effort on social media wasn't good, but since Tsuda joined, their following had increased tenfold. If the frequent meetings between him and Haruki were of any indication, Tsuda kept close tabs on their progress too. While Akihiko couldn't put his fingers on it, it annoyed him greatly that Haruki didn't have any free time outside of band practice and business meetings.

Speaking of which, Akihiko had something to ask the bassist. He reached in his pocket to put a cigarette on his lips. "Oi Haruki, we get it, let's take a break and head for a smoke outside."

Haruki nodded as he set down his pen and grabbed his parka. Tokyo's winter temperature had built up to a frost.

The cool air instantly condensed the sweat on Akihiko's back as they opened the roof hatch. The world was patches of greys overlooking a distant sea of lights. As they stood by the edge, Haruki lit their cigarettes and they watched in companionable silence while two wisps of smoke curled lazily in the night sky.

"How have you been, Haru?"

"Hmm," Haruki hummed around his cigarette while leaning on a guardrail, looking up at the starry sky as he gave a cryptic answer. "All things considered, things are on track." Haruki was a dark silhouette until he turned to Akihiko with a smile. "And you? I noticed you've been amping up at school and at practice. It's really impressive. I trust things are going well?"

Trust Haruki to notice. Akihiko wondered how this power of observation didn't always apply to Haruki himself.

"Yeah well," the drummer scratched the back of his head, "I want to prove to the snobby crowd I'm more than just a pretty face " Akihiko turned with a crooked smile and the bassist doubled over.

Haruki's laughter rang like bells and the drummer's smile turned fond.

"Speaking of pretty faces," Akihiko watched Haruki wipe away his mirth, "I missed yours at the cafe the other day." Brown eyes widened then looked away. "You don't work there anymore." It wasn't a question.

The former barista looked down at his shoes.

"Yeah. Tsuda thought it's best for me to focus on developing the band. Given needs that level of commitment now. With all of us graduating next year, we can't avoid the real world forever, you know?" The last bit sounded uncharacteristically bitter.

That foreign sound didn't bode well with Akihiko. "Something is bothering you."

Haruki took his time to respond as he inhaled his cigarette then exhaled dejectedly, "Everyone is entitled to a little bit of mystery Akihiko. I don't pry into why you're so motivated." Murata's gaze resurfaced on his mind, his cigarette tasted like envy.

They looked away from each other in the dark, each alone in their thoughts. It was a few minutes before Akihiko broke the silence quietly.

"I ended up breaking up with Ugetsu, the guy I was in love with."

"What?!" Haruki whipped around so fast, Akihiko vaguely wondered if that hurt. He watched his crush struggle to digest this, so he tried again.

"It's over."

"You…", the bassist gaped. "After CAC, you just got up and left, I thought…" Haruki looked at him in disbelief. He looked ashened by the news. It wasn't the reaction Akihiko hoped for but he also didn't know what to expect.

"I was suffocating us both. Music had lost its meaning until I found it again thanks to…" Akihiko hesitated and omitted the word. You. He obviously wasn't good enough to confess yet… but before he could stop himself, his words stumbled out and he cringed at how his voice shook.

"Haruki… may I touch you?"

"Ooh…" Haruki slid down the guardrail, until he was crouching and blocking out the world with his arm. He felt physically sick. Shame flooded him. He felt incredibly petty for being jealous of Murata just moments ago. Now, no one wins. Moreover, the dawning realisation of what he had exchanged with the devil for…

He shakily brought his cigarette to his lips, and swiped his eyes with his palm. His expression incredibly sad. "I can't."

Can't?

Akihiko's world stopped. He didn't understand and it scared him. Can't get hurt again? Can't do this? Can't like him back?

"What do yo-"

A ring tone pierced his question. It cawed loudly in the silence between them.

Then Haruki cruelly broke away from Akihiko's frantic searching eyes to look down at his phone and looked almost relieved until he saw Tsuda's name on the caller ID. He bit his lips. He would deal with the consequences later.

"Sorry Akihiko, I have to go."

He didn't wait for Akihiko to respond before hurrying through the hatch doors, leaving the stunt drummer to stare after his retreating back.

I'm sorry, I really am.


"What took you so long?" Mikumi chided as he leaned over to open the side door to his porsche.

"O-oh, sorry, we lost track of time writing a new song but in the end Mafuyu got most of the lyrics down." Haruki tried to buckle in his seat belt on the passenger side but his quivering hands didn't seem to find the lock. A steady hand covered his.

"Relax… we're just going to my place for a classy stay-in date with my cute boyfriend." Mikumi leaned over to peck his forehead and breathed in his hair. He placed his hand on Haruki's knee as he put the car to drive.

"Just how long do you plan on keeping us a secret anyways?" The executive side glanced at him. "I don't see why we need to keep meeting a block away just so they don't see. All this sneaking around, it's excessive. There's nothing wrong with us being together." His hands gave a little squeeze. "I would love to parade you around."

Haruki smiled weakly. "This is an important time for Given. I don't want to distract them." Uncomfortable with the topic, the bassist leaned forward to turn on the radio. "Um, what movie are we watching again?"

As their car came to stop at a red light, the dark haired man leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Something sexy. "

"O-oh," Haruki stammered. His hands felt glammy as they wrung his seatbelt. Mikumi had been unexpectedly patient, citing he wanted to show Haruki his sincerity by taking things slow. The first month passed with just kisses on the lips, cuddling, and dining in fine restaurants. The second month progressed into fondling at Mikumi's place. They had a few awkward makeout sessions, Haruki called it awkward because the man was so practised while Haruki fumbled and stumbled. Those few times the bassist feigned sleep to stall his advances.

The mounting pressure to progress their relationship into the inevitable next stage propelled Haruki to throw himself at work. The sooner he got Given off the ground, the less risk if he buckled under pressure and jeopardised his relationship with Mikumi -if you could call it that. It was awfully one-sided.

"Hey babe, no pressure. I got something that will take your mind off the edge. I think you'll really like it." Tsuda smiled encouragingly at him.

They let the radio make up for their silence for the rest of the ride. Being Friday night, this channel featured songs by new artists. As part of Given's marketing, their song was promoted in this month's running. His anxious waiting was rewarded when Mafuyu's familiar melody soothed his frayed nerves.

'A new dawn will break. It'll be okay.'

Haruki wanted so badly to believe in those words as their car pulled into the underground parking lot. An overwhelming sense of dread filled him as he watched the garage door descend like a cage through the rear view mirror.

He heard the jingle of keys before the engine stilled and Mikumi exited the vehicle. Haruki stared ahead at the concrete wall until his door opened to invite him to leave behind the safety of his mind. The cool air of the concrete garage sucked any warmth from his lungs.

As if sensing an impending shiver, Tsuda took off his large overcoat and enveloped him in his scent like a lover would and proceeded to guide him to the elevator. Too soon they reached the doors of his penthouse. "Come on, let's get you warmed up."

Now Haruki really shivered.

"Oh you poor thing." The dark haired man gave his shoulder a squeeze before turning on the living room light and setting his keys on top of the glass coffee table. He led Haruki to sit on the couch and disappeared into the kitchen. Haruki listened to the running tap as he awkwardly adjusted the oversized coat on his shoulder. He looked around at the stylish wall of photos populated with famous faces, dark velvet drapes and tasteful uplighting. He always felt small when he visited Mikumi's home. He wondered how many rising artists had seen the interior of this apartment. When he first visited, Mikumi gave him a house tour. His… boyfriend opened every door with a playful flourish, proudly displaying his luxury and wealth. He had a story for each room except his actual office which he kept closed. The older man winked to inform him no shop talks allowed during their dates. The irony wasn't lost on Haruki though -wasn't their relationship a business arrangement?

His eyes landed on magazines featuring the latest bands on the coffee table. He longed to ask the smiling faces on the cover, did you have to sleep with him too?

"Here," Tsuda offered a glass of carbonated water as he sipped his share. Haruki took it with both hands and muttered a soft thanks. Mikumi's hands deftly took off his tie and unbuttoned the first few buttons, before reclining with a sigh on the couch. He looked relaxed and ready to let loose after a long week.

"Take this too," the older man reached into his breast pocket to procure a ziplock bag with a small white pill.

When Haruki looked at him questionably, he had a ready answer. "Babe, this will help you relax, so you can enjoy yourself more. You're too uptight."

Drugs.

It was not a tightly kept secret the entertainment industry had ample access to illicit drugs for those who seek it. Haruki eyed the innocent pill wearily.

As if sensing his hesitation, his would-be lover urged, "It won't put you to sleep if that's what you're worried about. It won't make you high either. It's just a mild sedative, to take the edge off so to speak." Haruki hesitantly took it from the offered hand.

Mikumi tugged him forward onto his lap as he wrapped his possessive arm behind his back, while his other hand began rubbing circles on the honey blonde's side, riding his sweater up a few inches as he did so.

"Come on Haruki, you've been such a cock tease these past weeks. No other man would be so patient with you. Aren't I deserving of something more intimate with my boyfriend?"

Haruki wished to refuse him, to tell him they weren't boyfriends, companions, or anything. He was just someone under his thumb, treated like a toy because it fitted Mikumi's idea of love and caged by Haruki's own inability to walk away. He also hated how despite his feelings, his body responded under his administration.

Haruki envisioned himself falling as he brought the little pill to his lips and washed it down with water. For something so momentous, it went down easy like just another reflex.

"Good boy." Tsuda gave him a squeeze before settling them in a reclined position to watch the movie. Both just silently waiting, one in excitement, the other in dread.

The movie, if you could call it that, was a long drawn out porn scene portraying a teacher punishing a student. The dialogues were as cheesy as their outfits. Twenty minutes into the movie, Haruki felt hot. He started to adjust his throw to let some cool air in. The older man watched with a knowing smile.

Mikumi covered Haruki's hand in his as he guided them under the bassist's sweater. Haruki's gasp was barely audible.

Haruki felt too hot but he was also drowning. The world was slowing down and anywhere a hand touched him his skin burned. He faintly registered being pulled into an open mouth kiss and moaned when a tongue pushed in. He felt himself shifted until he was lying across Mikumi's lap, somewhere along the way he lost his sweater.

There was an insistent tug at his pants. He heard light cursing through a tunnel. Cool air on his thigh informed him his assailant was only partially successful. His feet were still shackled by fabric when his knees were sandwiched to his chest, leaving his buttcheeks exposed while blood rushed towards his head from being flipped, or was it him blushing?

He peered up at his 'boyfriend' who focused on squeezing on a generous amount of clear liquid from a plastic bottle onto his fingers. Then his dripping hands disappeared and -

"Ugh-" A callus thumb caressed his pucker, teasing, trailing before it slowly but insistently pushed in. It was one knuckle in when it stopped, dug down and held it open.

"Are you excited my dear Haruki?" Mikumi was a blur hovering over him. Haruki tried to block out what's happening by putting his arm above him. He regretted that when it gave his tormentor easier access to ease his finger in and hummed as if the sound would soothe him.

Haruki listened to the blood in his ears like water gushing through old pipes. He felt like he was experiencing this in third person when a second finger was added and scissored his entrance. Tears pricked his eyes as he buried his face into the nook of his bare arms to silence the tremor that rode through him. If he could forget where he was, who he was, he could be free. It could not be that hard. He just got to concentrate. Breathe in, breathe out.

Vaguely, Haruki suspected he might be hyperventilating. Between those short, oxygen-deprived rasps, Haruki was dreaming. He imagined short blonde hair hovering over him. If he concentrated, he could see piercings in those lips. He remembered that terribly broken expression on Akihiko's face as it gazed down on him. Haruki reached out his hand to caress his face. I'd do anything.

"Oh, that's nice." The fingers slipped out and Haruki felt empty in their absence. Aki, where did you go?

A blunt pain filled him to his core as an unwelcomed appendix penetrated his first ring of muscle. His vision shattered and he watched Tsuda's face contorted in pleasure as the barrier between his dream and reality evaporated. "Ah!"

He felt the smooth leather behind his back as he was grinded into the couch, the force threatening to smoulder him out of existence. The furniture shifted with a sharp squeak over the meaningless noise from the TV. Haruki watched their shadows casted on the wall. He watched in detached horror when the other shadow rock onto him again. "G-gah!"

"You like that, hmm? Hmm? Well, we can't leave you unsatisfied." The older man panted.

Another.

And another.

Until all that echoed off the walls was the urgent sound of flesh slapping flesh. It was animalistic the way their bodies separated and melded together. Haruki wanted to throw up. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and slither away. He wanted to be far far away. Away from this pain. This heartache. This shame.

As the rocking stilled to a climax and left a warmth trail leaking from his posterior. Tsuda rolled off him as Haruki turned towards the fold of the sofa. He heard a door closing and a faucet turned on, drowning out the quiet sobs that rocked his frame.

He wanted to disappear.


Author's note:

I first posted Chapter 1 on a few weeks ago and realised there aren't a lot of us in this fandom. While my initial urgency to post slowed, I really want to see this one through. I felt I was writing a love letter for a time capsule. It doesn't matter how long it floats there without readers but I was confident and hopeful someone would enjoy this eventually. Going forward, I'll update here and at Archive of Our Own under pen name 'Maedhros_birch'.

For music inspiration, try "I took a pill in Ibiza" by Mike Posener. I'm used to the catchier Seeb remix version but try listening to the original version too. It's a lot slower, country even, but it runs like an honest conversation. The two compare like a sensualize urban myth and its more sobering reality.