IX. Gackt: Decisions, For Better or Worse

 

      It’s funny the way things change after a simple phone call.

Speaking to Miyavi and creating our little wager changed everything in its perspective. It put a whole new twist and meaning on the way things were going to have to be handled.

For one, Yoshiki was still keeping an eye on me.

I finally figured out why Yoshiki wanted things between Miyavi and me to be kept professional. Chachamaru had actually been the one to point it out to me. I had met Yoshiki in my Malice Mizer days, when Mana had been running the show with a tight fist. And if we thought about it, some of the traits that Mana had, I somehow acquired. And that included, to an extent, the seeming need to control almost everything, inside and out, top to bottom.

Yoshiki was afraid I’d put Miyavi under that kind of control, while he was fresh and young, and ruin his potential. Just like had almost been done to me.

It turns out, Yoshiki doesn’t know me half as well as he thought.

I watched Miyavi discretely as he fell asleep. He became peaceful, childlike, curled against the window, his hand securely holding mine. If I could have had it my way, I’d have held him. But, as it was, our position was compromised enough.

I let Sugizo step in to get him to his room, not wanting to draw attention, but hating that I had to let go.

I sent You out for the night, much to his protests, claiming that I wanted to be alone. And truthfully, I did want to be alone. At least, for a while. He finally agreed to go meet Chachamaru and Ju-Ken for an outing he’d already declined, and he left. Silence fell throughout my suite, and I was content.

After glaring at my stack of sheet music for fifteen minutes, I turned away from it and set about entertaining myself with my guitar. It’s rare for me to get song inspiration through random strumming. I took my acoustic and a chair onto the balcony, leaving the doors open behind me. The view was beautiful and I was up enough floors that the traffic was only a dull hum.

I was tinkering with a song of Hyde’s that he was forever complaining could have been better, not really paying attention to what I was doing, when Miyavi stepped onto his own balcony two rooms away. Shirtless, he stretched and twisted, showing off most of his expansive collection of tattoos. Still playing, I pretended not to see him. Behind my sunglasses, I knew he couldn’t see my eyes following him.

He leaned on the railing, staring down into the city below. He still looked tired as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You changed your hair,” I called to him.

He started, jumping a little when he turned to face me. He smiled.

“I did, yah.”

“Dark is a good color for you.”

He pulled a strand of it into his face and scrutinized it closely, chewing his lip.

“I look like everyone else,” he finally said.

I laughed, still picking through Hyde’s song, not really looking at him.

“Believe me, you don’t. You’re too unique to look like everyone else.”

“Of course I am!” He laughed and threw his arms wide, his smile taking up half his face. “I am Miyavi! I dropped the vowels from my name because I was bored with them! I get a new tattoo every time I want to remember something, and I am my own rhythm section! Who else can boast that?”

By that time, I had stopped playing and was watching him. Leaning on my guitar, I laughed, truly laughed, as I witnessed his display of childishness. He dropped his arms, still smiling broadly.

“Why don’t you come over?” I finally said. “We can call for something to eat and find a good movie to watch.”

“Sounds like fun. Be there in a few.”

He waved and threw himself back into his suite. I heard him curse loudly through the open door as he tripped on something. Laughing again, I picked my guitar up by the neck and went back into my own room, closing the balcony door behind me. I set the guitar back on its stand, glancing around to make sure it was tidy. Although, if I knew anything about Miyavi, it wouldn’t stay tidy for long.

I let him in when he knocked. He smiled somewhat shyly as he slipped inside, his bare feet shuffling across the carpet. He had a bag on his shoulder and his guitar case.

“In case we get bored,” he said when I looked confused. “Or there’s nothing on.”

I nodded and headed for the phone.

“Hungry for anything in particular?”

“Whatever you order is fine. I’m not picky.”

He took out his guitar while we waited and idly played with it. I let him go, opting to sit on the couch and watch him. He smiled the entire time, running through the normal repertoire of his talent. He was right about one thing: the kid was his own damn rhythm section.

We ate on the couch, picking through the food on the coffee table, arguing about the movies that were on TV. When it became obvious that we’d never agree, I turned the set off and tossed the remote across the room, out of reach of both of us.

“I got something I want to show you,” he said suddenly, leaning over the arm of the couch to reach his bag. “I found it in Hawaii, of all places.”

He pulled out a small box and handed it to me. Curious, I opened it. Inside lay four stone spheres, each a different set of colors. I looked up, confused. He chuckled and took the box from me.

“My mom used to use something like these on my dad. They’re energy spheres.”

“Ah.”

“You have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

I shook my head.

“There are four spheres in this box, each one representing an element. This one,” he lifted out a blue and white sphere, “is Water. This,” a black and grey sphere, “is Metal. This one,” he lifted a yellow and white one, “is Air. And this,” showing me the brown and green one, “is Earth. Each element represented. With me so far?”

I nodded, intrigued.

“It’s easier if I show you what they’re for than if I try to explain it.”

He suddenly looked nervous.

“Really?”

“Yes. The thing is… we’re going to need your bed.”

X. Miyavi: Energies and the Winning Streak

 

      Gackt’s level stare was enough to completely unnerve me, but I refused to budge. I knew what that last comment sounded like, but I would be damned if I explained myself further.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, my voice conveying a strength I didn’t feel.

He looked me over for a long moment and I was horribly aware that a few feet of couch and a box of stone spheres was all that separated us. Without a word, though, he rose and made his way into the bedroom.

I took a deep breath before I followed him, making my way slowly, the box clutched in my tattooed hands. He sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for my next instruction.

“You’re going to have to lose the shirt,” I heard myself say. “And lay on your stomach on the bed.”

He nodded and complied, stripping out of his T-shirt without a thought to my presence. After laying it neatly on a chair, he crawled onto the bed and stretched out, pillowing his cheek on the back of his stacked hands. I bit my lip, watching, knowing that part of him was putting on a show. I wouldn’t be won that easily.

I moved to the bed and crawled onto it, walking on my knees until I was next to him. I smiled down at him, setting the box on his left side. He smiled softly back.

“Don’t get weird on me for this,” I said.

I slid one leg across his body so that I was straddling his hips. I placed a hand against the small of his back as I drew the box nearer to my knee. He tensed slightly and I smirked.

“Sorry. My hands are cold.”

He grunted.

“Now, here’s what I need from you. Close your eyes and see if you can stop that mind of yours from thinking for a while.”

“Alright.”

“And be quiet.”

He snorted silent laughter, nodding and closing his eyes.

“I think for you,” I examined the four spheres in the box, “I’ll use the Earth sphere. Because you’re grounded, close to the core of your own being.”

I took the brown and green sphere from the box and rolled it between my palms, warming the surface. I kissed it once, then shifted myself forward slightly, supporting myself with my knees and bracing my left hand against the mattress at his side, so I could press the stone between his shoulder blades. Using my palm, I rolled it slowly down his spine, adding a light pressure.

“The purpose of the energy spheres,” I said softly, recalling what my mother told me when I had asked as a child, “is to realign your energies.”

I repositioned the stone at the top of his spine again and added a little more pressure on the roll.

“Throughout the day,” I continued as I repeated the process, “stress, anger, sadness, pain, all sorts of negative energies flow around us. Sometimes, they overpower our own positive energies. When that happens, they manifest into physical pain or illness sometimes. Each person is ingrained with an element, the four that these stones represent. There are a few more, but these are the main elements that make up the earth.”

I fell silent, listening to his breathing, watching the muscles of his shoulders and back fall slack.

“Each stone is also ingrained with the element, because the core is made of that element. Earth is solid stone, as stone is earth. Air is hollow. Metal is lead lined in the core, and Water has fresh river water inside. The process of rolling the stone across a person’s spine has significant purpose. The spine, it is said, is the center of the body. Not the heart or the brain. The spine holds us upright in pride or brings us to bow low in subservience. We move as the spine allows, we fall when it is weakened. The energies are centered there.”

I sat back, stretching the muscles of my lower back for a moment. The sphere was warm as I set it back in its box. Smiling, I moved off of Gackt and closed the box, setting it on the table next to the bed. He stirred lightly, rolling onto his side and curling slightly.

He’d fallen asleep under my ministrations.

I sat on the edge of the bed, watching him for a while. His lips parted slightly, eyes closed; he was the picture of peace. I wondered how many people actually got to see him like this. I drew my knees up and rested my cheek against them, staring at Gackt’s face. He truly was beautiful.

I don’t recall how long I sat there, but the sun had long since set when I finally came back to myself. I unfurled my legs, trying to keep from disturbing Gackt, and made to get off the bed. Before I could move, his hand shot out and grasped my wrist. Looking down, I met his eyes.

“Stay?” he said softly. “Please?”

I felt torn. Part of me screamed, albeit obnoxiously, to run, to get out before I did something I’d regret. Another part of me said stay, just a little longer. I couldn’t break his steady gaze and I felt myself beginning to crumble.

His light tug on my arm made me settle back onto the bed. Another gentle tug and I was curled next to him, his arm holding me against his stomach. I was tense until that hand found my own, his fingers curling around mine once more. His soft breathing in my ear comforted me, relaxing me so that I didn’t hold myself so rigid next to him.

“That’s better,” he whispered once I was breathing normally again. “I don’t bite.”

“I know,” I returned, shifting onto my back so I could look at him.

He had his head propped up on his hand, looking down at me as our clasped hands settled on my stomach.

“I’m glad you don’t bite,” I teased. “I’d hate to have to get someone to muzzle you.”

“They’ve tried,” he returned. “But I’m a renowned escape artist. Muzzles, leashes, cages; they don’t hold me for long.”

“Somehow, I believe that.”

Something flashed through his eyes briefly, but before I could say anything, he had closed the few inches between us, pressing his lips to mine once, briefly. I gasped at the contact, staring at him as he pulled back, his eyes questioning.

“Gackt-,” I whispered before lifting my head to capture his lips again.

In the back of my mind, the obnoxious screamer got louder and louder, but I was already blown away. Gackt shifted us, sliding our still clasped hands up so they were by my head, half laying on me as the kiss deepened. I groaned, wrapping my free arm around his back, pulling him closer still.

Finally, he pulled away, staring down at me. His eyes were wide, his lips swollen, and he was so much more beautiful in that moment than I had ever thought before. Breathing hard, he pressed his face into my neck. I stroked his hair, tightening my hold on his hand.

“There will be hell to pay,” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “But frankly, I don’t give a damn.”

“Neither do I,” I said, running my hand down his bare back. “Neither do I.”

XI. Gackt: Don’t Look Now, Play the Part Well

 

I woke the next morning with Miyavi curled in my arms. I smiled, realizing that the next step was taken, but we still had a long way to go. I stayed still for a while, reveling in his warmth. It was so much different from waking up with one of my band members plastered to me. They were normally there only to make sure that I didn’t get out of bed in the middle of the night to do more work.

Miyavi was there because he just wanted to be.

Moving carefully, I removed myself from the bed, shifting the blankets covering Miyavi, before heading to the bathroom. It was early, the sun barely risen, but I was awake and alert, ready to face anything.

He was still asleep when I emerged, showered and dressed. My eyes fell on the box of spheres and I went to pick one up. Small, light weight, it fit neatly into the palm of my hand. Noticing that I had the Water sphere, I held it up to my ear and shook it, trying to see if I could hear the water at its core.

“Do that and you’re likely to break the energies,” Miyavi’s sleepy voice floated up to me.

He smiled cutely from his nest in the blankets. I sat on the edge of the bed and brushed a few strands of hair from his cheek.

“Go back to sleep,” I told him. “It’s early.”

“How early?”

“Six thirty.”

“Definitely too early.”

He wiggled back down into the blankets, drawing them up to his nose like a child. Smiling, I dropped a kiss onto his forehead and left the room.

I went out onto the balcony to greet the day, watching as Las Angeles was lit up beneath me. Buildings took on an orange glow, reflecting the sun as it slowly made its way across the horizon. I smiled, feeling a slight pain as the part of my lip that had kept snagging Miyavi’s lip ring was stretched. The feeling only made me smile more.

Going back into the suite, I listened but heard no movement from the bedroom. Miyavi would probably sleep a while longer. I retrieved the remote from the corner and stretched out on the couch, falling into one of my random and rare bouts of laziness. I knew that in a few hours, I would have to get up and go meet Yoshiki at the studio, but for the moment, I was content to lay still and be idle.

Slowly flipping the channels, I felt the sun peaking through the still open balcony doors. It crept slowly up the end of the couch, across my feet, then up to my hips. It was already getting warm. I got up to close the doors, and when I turned around, Miyavi was leaning in the doorway, yawning and stretching.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hi.”

As he was still stretching, I made my way back to the couch and sat down. Moments later, he was next to me, a few inches away, almost unsure of himself.

“Are you alright?” I asked, looking at him.

“I’m fine.”

Setting the remote on the table, I reached out and gathered his tall frame into my arms, holding him against me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, nuzzling lightly into my neck.

“This is nice,” he said. “You don’t know how many years I’ve dreamed of this.”

I pulled back slightly to look at him, smiling.

“Really?”

He blushed, laughing as he hid his face again.

“Yes, really.”

“That’s flattering.”

He shook with silent laughter. We sat there for a while, not talking or moving, just sitting.

“I got picked on as a kid,” he said softly, running his hand across my leg. “Because I listened to your music. Because I had pictures of you on my walls.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m not. You’re part of the reason I got into music.”

It was my turn to blush.

“The grief I bore was worth it to be here right now,” he said softly, pulling back to look at me square in the eyes. “And I don’t mean just here in Las Angeles.”

I kissed him then, slowly and thoroughly. He gave as good as he got, and soon enough we were both breathless and light-headed with it. When we broke apart, I glanced at the clock.

“I have to go,” I said, hugging him to me again. “I’m supposed to meet Yoshiki at the studio in a little while.”

“I should head back to my room, then,” he said, untangling himself from me and getting to his feet. “I need to clean up. Sugizo promised to show me a few things on the guitar today that I’ve been trying to learn to do.”

I nodded, rising to my feet as well while he packed his guitar back into its case. We said a soft goodbye at the door to my suite and I watched until he vanished into his.

 

“Good morning,” I called to Yoshiki as I entered the studio an hour later.

The blonde looked up, smiled and waved, before turning his attention back to the young woman in front of him. I set my bag on the piano and began pulling sheets of music from it. Setting the sheets for the piano piece on the stand, I sat on the bench and started playing it while I waited.

“Not too bad, is it?”

I looked up to find Yoshiki standing over me, smiling. I smiled back, looking down at the notes on the page.

“No, it’s not bad at all. There are a few spots that need to be ironed out, but that’s the way of all good music, isn’t it?”

“Of course. What about the rest of it?”

Yoshiki and I fell into a long discussion about the rest of the pieces, about their set up and play time, and their different parts. Most of my attention was focused on the conversation as we debated different songs, tossing some and keeping others. But, part of my mind was back in my hotel room. Still lying in bed, warm and content. I daresay, happy.

Part of me was still wrapped up with Miyavi.

We broke for lunch a few hours later. Yoshiki went to make some phone calls, leaving me to fend for myself. No matter, though, because Chachamaru, You, and Ju-Ken were down the hall in our private studio. I found myself the victim of a hard hug as soon as I walked in the door.

“Chacha, call off your hound,” You remarked as I struggled out of Ju-Ken’s grasp.

“Robot, kiss my ass,” Chachamaru shot back playfully, moving forward to prise Ju-Ken away from me.

Laughing, my bassist collapsed into a chair and gave me a meaningful look.

“What, Ju-Ken?”

“Nothing, boss.”

“You’re an awful liar. Haven’t you been paying any attention to the rest of the band? They’re so much better at it than you are.”

This comment earned me a swat from Chachamaru and a loud yell of protest from You. Ju-Ken began laughing again as I simply smiled and inquired as to their doings on the new songs. By the time I went back to my meeting with Yoshiki, my spirits were higher than ever before.

XII. Miyavi: Strings, Chords… Fret

 

My meeting with Sugizo was set for just before lunch, so I refrained from ordering anything when I got back to my room. Besides, the knots that my stomach had tied itself into deterred me from any thought of food.

I had just spent the night with Gackt. Granted, his deep seated exhaustion had caused him to collapse back into sleep shortly after our little impromptu make out session, but I hadn’t left, had I? At any time, I could have slipped away and gone back to my own room. But I didn’t. I’d lain in his arms, wrapped around him, wrapped up with him, and I’d fallen asleep not long after him.

It was all so unreal.

 

We spent a few more nights together after that, playing out our wager in secret, though there wasn’t much intimate contact at first. I seemed to be winning, as Gackt laughed and smiled with more ease after the first night. Once and a while, You, Ju-Ken, and Chachamaru would join us, just to see the progress I was making. I think they were pleasantly surprised, if not baffled by the change in their boss. I made fast friends with them, humoring them with the antics that had become so trademark to my name that I couldn’t help myself anymore.

In public, it was another story.

Gackt and I did spend some evenings in the company of the others. We kept a distance between us as much as possible and remained coolly aloof of one another. During the day, Yoshiki and Gackt would lock themselves away somewhere, and sometimes Sugizo and I attended these gatherings. More often than not, though, Sugizo and I were left to fend for ourselves.

Sugizo, it turns out, is an excellent teacher. I was excited to learn new techniques that could trick new sounds out of any guitar. He was excited at how fast I picked up on them. Spending time with Sugizo was better than I thought it would be, considering the age difference. But, when you get right down to it, Sugizo’s not much more grown up than I am. At least, mentally.

Finally, we started playing the songs. At first, we went without a bassist; something we all agreed needed to be reconciled, and fast. After a while, Gackt started bringing Ju-Ken to practices randomly. He was almost as energetic as I am, which is saying something, and he made practices more fun. At least, until Yoshiki threatened to strangle us both with piano wire if we didn’t calm down once and a while and get serious about our work. Beyond that, we kept the goofing off to a minimum.

 

On a rare day off, I decided I was bored enough to check out some of the stores near the hotel. Donning an off-color outfit, I stuffed my hair into a hat and left, slipping into the elevator just as the doors closed. The young maid in the car with me looked me over and giggled.

“Not much of a disguise, Mr. Miyavi,” she said softly in English, smiling at my reflection in the doors. “But it will do. This is L.A.”

I smiled back at her, watching her reflection turn pink. Before she got out on the floor below, I hugged her quickly, thanking her. She turned darker pink, bowed her head, and fled the elevator, smiling widely.

It was early, so the traffic was heavy. Instead of trying to get a cab, I set out at a walk, just enjoying the morning. It was nice, for once, to just let myself go with the normal flow of traffic. Kind of act like a normal person for a while. Sometimes, it was nice to go unrecognized in a crowd.

Some of the stores I passed held no interest for me, but others I felt compelled to go into. One in particular dealt in silver.

I was glad for my long sleeves when I stepped into the arctic blast of the air conditioning within the store. Zipping it slightly, I wandered among the displays, wrinkling my nose at the airy, sappy piano music that they played over the P.A. Give me guitars and drums any day, thank you very much.

I was never one to wear much jewelry outside of my piercings and the random rings and bracelets, so I shied away from the jewelry counter for the moment, sliding along the wall, eying the many silver cast paperweights and figurines. I giggled over the silver zoo on one shelf, playing with an elephant for a few moments before the huffy woman at the counter cleared her throat quite loudly. Smiling benignly at her, I set the figurine down and moved on.

When my circuit of the store finally took me to the jewelry displays, I gave in to my own curiosity – I swear it’ll be the death of me one day – and looked.

Silver cast everything gleamed back at me. Crosses, Crucifixes, clovers, shamrocks, twists, curves, teardrops, dragons, fairies, the whole nine yards. Plain chains, braided chains, thick chains, thin chains, long chains, short chains. Bracelets, earrings, rings, lapel pins, cuff links, tie clips. All of it. Anything that can be poured into a mold was on display beneath the glass.

Just as my jaw was climbing from the floor back to its place on my face, my phone rang in my pocket. A glare from the woman behind the counter sent me running outside to answer it.

“Moshi mosh?” I panted.

“Miya? It’s Gackt.”

“Hi. What’s up?”

“I know we made plans tonight, but-,” he said, sounding guilty.

“You’ve got to take a rain check, right?” I finished, frowning slightly.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I said, though I wanted to yell at him. “I understand when things come up.”

“I’m probably going to have to cancel tomorrow night, as well,” he said, his voice dropping.

“Oh.”

“Miyavi?”

“What?”

“Please don’t be upset with me.”

“Why should I be?” I snapped before I could think. “It’s not like I’m your boyfriend or anything.”

Ignoring his cry of protest, I disconnected the call and turned my phone off. Bowing my head against the curious stares I was receiving, I made my way back to the hotel and into my room. Minutes later, I heard someone knocking, so I retreated further into the suite, away from the door. I knew it was Gackt.

For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why I had reacted the way I did. Had I really made myself believe that there was anything between Gackt and me? That anything we said or did meant anything outside of our wager? That damn bet. If I hadn’t fallen into it, things wouldn’t have gotten so far out of hand. Stolen moments, kissing when no one was looking, cryptic looks and secret touches. All of the nonsense that made my heart pound, my head swim. All the things that drove me crazy for him.

It made me angry. It made me hate myself. It made me want to hide for the rest of my life.

Even through my anger, I knew one thing for certain. I couldn’t quit Gackt. Not now, not after I’d had a taste of the man he is beneath the façade. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t quit him. So, even if I won the wager, he was the real winner. It didn’t matter what I did.

He came back and knocked three more times before he seemed to give up. I didn’t know whether to feel relieved or upset about it.

I didn’t know what to feel at all.

XIII. Gackt: Nightmares and Losing Battles

 

Miyavi spent the last four days of our wager ignoring me completely. You ended up spending quite a few nights after that with me, as my depression sprang up and brought the nightmares back into play. I did my best not to cry, but often times lost that battle, curling into my best friends arms and sobbing like a child.

Once more, I had made a mess of things.

The only time I could get the colorful object of my affection to even look at me was during our band meetings, and even then his eyes were distant, almost afraid, when they fell on me. He stayed close to his suite or with Sugizo most of the time, politely declining my offers to go out for food or drinks. I think that Yoshiki began to notice a real change in Miyavi’s behavior, because our drummer was constantly casting odd looks between us.

“Gackt, a word, please?”

I stopped moving, watching as Miyavi and Sugizo slipped out the door at the end of a practice session a week later, the younger man smiling happily at his fellow guitarist. Turning, I met Yoshiki’s gaze.

“Of course.”

“What’s going on?” he asked pointedly, his eyes flickering to the door through which the others had just left.

“He’s mad at me,” I said simply, knowing a lie would do no good anymore.

“What did you do?”

“A lot.”

I was ready for Yoshiki to yell, to reprimand me for going against him and pursuing Miyavi. In all actuality, I wanted him to yell at me, to be angry. Instead, he looked at me sadly.

“I had the feeling it would happen,” he said softly. “I know you, Gackt, so I knew that no matter what I said, you wouldn’t be stopped. But, this is what I was afraid of. He’s not the same. A few days ago, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, and I got the idea that you were making him happy. And I was ready to be okay with that. But this,” he sighed. “Fix it, Gackt. Fix it, make it right. Don’t tear this band apart. Don’t tear him apart.”

I stared at Yoshiki, shocked.

“You act like you think I should hit you,” he remarked. “Believe me, it crossed my mind. But, I’m not that spry anymore. And I know your reflexes are faster than mine, so I’d be the one on the floor at the end of it. It’s an enticing offer, but not one I’m willing to take up.”

He picked up his bag and headed for the door, leaving me standing in the middle of the room. Placing one hand against the door, he turned.

“Gackt?”

“Hmm?”

“Miyavi’s feelings… I think they go a lot deeper where you’re concerned. Whatever you said or did, even if you can’t figure out why he’s reacting the way he is, it hurt him deep. Figure it out, find the core of it, and mend the rift. He’s a good kid. He deserves happiness.”

Yoshiki pushed the door open and left. I was dumbfounded, shocked beyond words. Had Yoshiki just given me permission to pursue Miyavi? Had he just said that it was okay? It had been years since I’d sought anyone’s permission to do anything.

Still, with or without blessing, I was going to continue to do what I could for and with Miyavi. I’d messed up, but I was damn well going to make up for it.

Somehow.

 

A few days after my conversation with Yoshiki, I was back in LAX, seeing Chachamaru and You onto a plane. They were going home for a few weeks to oversee the rest of the band’s work on their part of the album recording. Ju-Ken was staying with me, a thought that was both unsettling and welcome.

“Things will work out,” You whispered in my ear as he hugged me. “For you, they always do. Remember?”

He pulled back, kissed me on the cheek, and moved aside. Chachamaru took his place, smiling as he embraced me tightly.

“He’s a tough kid. He’ll come around. By the time we get back next month, things will be peachy.”

With a quick squeeze and another broad smile, Chacha left my arms and took Ju-Ken aside, whispering a few last minute instructions. I pretended to ignore them, knowing exactly what was being said.

‘Make sure Gackt doesn’t work too hard. Make sure Gackt eats and sleeps. Make sure Gackt sees the sun. Make sure Gackt breathes.’

Same old, same old.

You slid his arm around me and I felt immediately grateful, smiling lightly at him. Minutes later, they were boarding their flight, and I was left standing at the expansive windows with Ju-Ken, watching their plane fade into the sky.

“Boss?”

“What?”

“Are you alright?”

I glanced at Ju-Ken and saw that he was watching me levelly, his eyes missing no detail. Chacha had trained him well, it seemed.

“I might be. Come on, let’s get back to the hotel.”

Standing at the door to my suite, I had the sudden urge to go knock on Miyavi’s door, but I knew he either wouldn’t answer it at all or let me in if he did. It was becoming terribly frustrating. With a sigh, I retreated into my own darkened rooms.

My mind refused to settle. I missed You and Chacha horribly; I wished they were still with me. Ju-Ken was off on some adventure of his own, leaving me to fend for myself for the night. Yoshiki was in meetings all day, and Sugizo was missing. There was no one I could call, no one I could turn to.

Going out onto my balcony, I glanced sideways and saw Miyavi two doors down. He was leaning on the railing, staring down at the street below, lost in thought. I moved quietly and settled myself onto a chair, trying not to disturb him. I just looked at him, watched him. It was all I was allowed to do anymore, it seemed.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said after a while, not raising his eyes to look at me. “It’s not like that at all.”

“Then what is it?”

He shrugged one shoulder, sucking his lip ring into his mouth as he thought.

“I don’t know. Maybe I just got scared.”

“That’s normal in any relationship.”

He finally looked at me.

“Relationship?”

I looked back, unmoving.

“Gackt… can I come over?”

“Always.”

XIV. Miyavi: Getting Over It and Taking the Next Step

 

I moved slowly back into my suite, closing the door and making sure it was locked. Across the living area, turning off the TV as I went. Into my room to change my shirt and put on some shoes. Back to the front door, checking for my key.

At Gackt’s door, I hesitated. I couldn’t tell why.

I raised my hand to knock, but the door was already being pulled open. And he was there. I was frozen for a moment, caught by his gaze, before I registered what was different.

His eyes were clear. Brown.

I reached out a hand and he took it, almost dragging me into the suite, into his arms. We met in a kiss so passionate that it was almost painful. I found myself pressed against the door as it was closed, with Gackt’s hands roving across me, pinning me to the hard wood. I touched and felt all of him that I could find, pressing him against me in our need.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we broke apart, he collapsing against me, panting. His forehead was against my neck, his breath ghosting across my chest. I lay my head back against the door, my eyes closed. Slowly, he moved away, taking my hand and leading me to the couch.

We sat a few feet apart, unable to look at one another, until we were finally able to breathe again.

“Miya,” he began softly, “when I canceled our dates, it had nothing to do with you. I had some things to attend to back home, with JOB. I didn’t cancel because I wanted to.”

“I know,” I said softly, turning to face him. “I know. And I don’t know why I got so upset. I guess I just thought… that you and I…”

He slid closer to me, resting his hand against my cheek. I leaned instinctively into his touch.

“You mean so much to me,” he whispered. “So very much. And to know I hurt you… it hurt me deep inside, badly. I never wanted… I never want to make you feel like you mean so little to me that I could toss you aside. I never could.”

“Say it,” I half whispered, desperation creeping into my heart. “Please. Say what you mean.”

“Miyavi, I love you. And I’m sorry.”

He kissed the tears that were forming in my eyes, catching them before they could fall. I melted into his arms, wrapping myself around his chest and burying my face in his shoulder. His fingers caressed the lines of the sutra running down my back, soothing my worry away once and for all.

I don’t know how long we sat like that, just holding one another, but I felt cold the instant he began to pull away from me.

“Why don’t we go out?” he said. “We have the whole day to do absolutely nothing. Why don’t you and I go find something to entertain ourselves with?”

“That sounds good. But, I’d have to go put on something less… exaggerated,” I said, smiling.

We both looked down at my wardrobe. Green and yellow pants and a purple peace sign T-shirt. Not exactly the best thing if we didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves. He chuckled, plucking at the hem of my shirt.

“Good idea. I’ll change myself.”

“Going to wear leather for me?” I joked.

“If you want me to.”

“Now see, that won’t work. I lost the bet. So I’m in no place to ask you to do anything.”

A playful glint entered his eyes.

“True. You backed out the last few days, so I suppose I did win.”

I laughed, knowing that I was caught and not caring.

“So it’s me who has to wear what you decide.”

He thought about it for a moment.

“I’ll let it go this time,” he said finally. “I’ll think of something later. Right now, I’m getting cabin fever.”

I got to my feet.

“I’ll be back in five minutes.”

I swept out the door at a near run, leaving him on the couch with the silliest smile I’ve ever seen on anyone. Back in my room, I stopped. We’d made up, yes, but what was next? What was the next step in a relationship like ours?

I slipped into a less colorful outfit, including a light jacket to cover my arms against recognition, and slipped back out the door. Gackt was waiting for me in the hall, wearing a pair of black leather pants. I couldn’t stifle my giggle.

“Be glad you don’t want kids,” I smirked, sliding up next to him.

He chuckled, pulling me in for a quick kiss before heading toward the elevator.

“It’s not as bad as you think,” he said once the elevator doors closed and we began to descend toward the lobby. “They’re quite comfortable.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Gackt shrugged, smiling at me from behind his dark sunglasses. I had the feeling his eyes were blue again. The elevator made three stops on the way down, so by the time we reached the lobby, we hadn’t been able to say much to each other.

The streets were crowded when we stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Walk or ride?” Gackt asked, watching a taxi fly past the curb.

“Walk, if you’re up for it,” I returned, watching the same cab round a corner and vanish out of sight against a yellow traffic light. “I prefer it.”

He nodded and we set out. I was drawn to many of the store windows, leaving Gackt to meander behind me, laughing. I somehow managed to drag him into a pet store and plop a squishy yellow Labrador puppy into his arms while I played with two black and white kittens.

“He likes you,” I remarked, trying very hard not to laugh as the puppy kept trying to chew on Gackt’s ear.

“So that’s what this is about?” he said, smiling as he put the puppy back into its box. “I’m sorry, Mei and Belle are enough for me to handle.”

We left the pet store moments later, him practically dragging me away from the rabbits in the window. We had a quiet lunch in a small diner a few blocks from the hotel, narrowly escaping a few teenage girls who suddenly recognized us through the window. Once back outside, and safe, I looked around.

“Hey!” I cried, recognizing the area. “There’s this really great silver shop a few stores down! They have the cutest little figurine zoo! Come on, you’ll love it!”

Grabbing Gackt’s hand, I led him down the street, enjoying the sound of his laughter.

XV. Gackt: From the Top, Square One

 

Even though we seemed to have made up, I knew that I was on tedious ground with Miyavi. When he hadn’t returned my sentiment when I expressed my true feelings, I knew that he hadn’t completely forgiven me. I understood why, and I was willing to work at it, willing to wait until the rift between us had been mended.

If for no other reason than the kid was worth waiting for.

I ended up buying three of the zoo figurines for him and an interestingly shaped necklace for myself at the silver store. He practically bounced all the way back to the hotel, and I was reminded of an over-energized, sugar-rushed three year old. But, to see him smile at me again was worth it.

Entering the hotel once more, I felt a slight pang at the thought that our afternoon together was ending. We rode the elevator up in silence, he admiring his silver giraffe with a childlike abandon. At one point, he turned to me and made it give me a kiss on the cheek, complete with sound affects. “Mwah!” Even in my dark cloud, I couldn’t help but smile.

He started down the hall before me, leaving me to move slowly, watching him. I could tell he was happier than he had been recently, that some of his former spunk had returned, but I was still at a loss as to how to proceed with him. I didn’t want to hurt him again, but I didn’t want to let him go either. If nothing else, things had only gotten more confusing in our making up than they had been before.

“Gackt?”

Miyavi was standing in the open doorway of his suite, looking back at me. He held his bag loosely in one hand, the other propping the door wide as he fidgeted from foot to foot.

“Would you like to come over for a while?” he asked, turning shy on me.

“Are you sure it’s alright?”

I wasn’t taking any chances. He chewed on his lip, his eyes wide as he looked back at me. I could tell he was nervous, that he was steeling himself against doubt.

“I’m sure.”

Nodding, I opened my door enough to set my bag on the phone table just inside, then pulled the door closed and locked it once more. He held the door open so I could go in first, then slipped in past me, discarding his shoes quickly and moving further into the sitting room. I leaned against the wall to remove my boots, quickly scanning the generally messy room.

“Sorry,” he said, setting his bag on the couch. “I wasn’t expecting to ask you over.”

I smiled, moving into the sitting room.

“It’s no problem. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled back, sliding his arms around me when I got close enough. I sighed, content to hold him for a while.

For a while, everything melted away. All the pain of the past two weeks, all of the frustration and sleepless nights seemed insignificant because I had him in my arms again. I smiled to myself, knowing that all of my insides were turning to mush, that my brain was going well out of its way to find something romantic to say or do, that I was stepping well out of my normal range of known emotions, and that maybe, just maybe, I was letting myself be free to just feel.

“Gackt?” Miyavi’s soft voice dragged me back into the present moment.

“What?”

“You’re crying. Why are you crying?”

At first, I wasn’t sure I believed him, but when he raised a hand to wipe the tear track from my face, I felt them.

“I think I’m just scared,” I said, tightening my grip on him slightly.

“That’s normal in any relationship,” he returned, smirking lightly, teasingly, at me. “But you don’t have to be.”

I pulled him down and kissed him, pouring everything I had, all that I could dig up from the bottom of my heart and soul, into it. I wanted him to feel exactly how I felt, because words weren’t sufficient. Words would never be enough with Miyavi.

I felt him tremble against me, felt him press himself tighter to me, and we clung to one another like drowning men, holding tight to a single slipping lifeline. When we finally broke apart, feeding oxygen starved lungs with precious air, he sighed, the sound somewhat wistful.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, twining a piece of his hair between my fingers.

“Nothing,” he breathed. “Nothing at all is wrong.”

I reached for his hand, twining his fingers into my own, and brought them to my lips, kissing each inked finger tenderly. He smiled, sliding his free hand up to my neck, rubbing lightly just beneath my hair.

“It’s been a lifetime,” I said, looking up at him, “since I’ve been able to feel so close to someone. Since I’ve been able to really feel my own heartbeat. I have you to thank, Miya, I really do. Because I can love you.”

He smiled wider at that, tightening his hand in mine.

“I love you, too, Gackt,” he whispered before diving back down and reclaiming me in another searing kiss.

He suddenly surged forward, pressing his entire body against me. In that brief moment of contact, I felt his urgency, his need. He opened his mouth willingly, battling me for dominance in our kiss. I growled low in my throat, pulling his body flush against mine, letting him feel that I, too, needed him.

Gasping, he pulled back, his hips thrusting against mine lightly. His entire face was flushed and a light sweat had broken across his forehead and neck. Standing there, wrapped in my arms, his limbs dangling loosely about me, lips parted… I wanted nothing more than to ravish him, claim him, cherish him, bring him so high into euphoria he’d never want to come down.

“Gaku…” he whispered.

“Can I?”

I didn’t have to explain, didn’t have to expand on the question. The two simple words, whispered with love, care, and determination, were all that was needed for us. He smiled, his features softening as a wild lust crept into his eyes, making my heart hammer and my blood boil.

Nodding, Miyavi took my hand in his once more, and led me to his bedroom.

XVI. Miyavi: Inked Lines (1)

 

I still couldn’t tell you what possessed me to do what I did. Even now, I still think that I was out of my mind. Oddly, the only thing I could think the entire time I led Gackt into the bedroom of my suite was the fact that nearly every single one of my horny teenage fantasies was about to come true.

Why the hell was I so nervous?

Gackt pulled me to a stop a few feet from the bed and, without turning me or facing me, he pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it to the floor. He ran smooth fingers down the lines of my sutra, brushing strands of my hair aside to kiss this character or that softly. I bit my lip to stave off the moan that was growing in my throat.

Too soon, he was pulling away. I heard the rustling of fabric and from my peripheral vision I watched his shirt join mine on the floor. Unable to resist, I turned and faced him, my eyes drinking in the sight of his naked torso greedily.

He smiled at my expression, and I knew that I was slack jawed, but I didn’t care. Giving a damn was the farthest thing from my mind. Instead of thinking, I pulled Gackt to me, letting out a pleasured sigh as our skin met. I felt him skim his lips across my jaw, down my neck, and I jumped when he began tracing my “Un-Do” tattoo with his tongue.

“Ah, Gaku…”

He pushed me back gently, directing me to the bed, his lips and tongue still playing along my tattoos teasingly. I let myself be led, clinging to the man before me, my fingers wandering over every piece of bare flesh I could find. Before I could think or breathe, I was stretched out across my bed, my head somehow finding their way onto the pillows at the head.

 Gackt moved toward me with feline grace, his eyes barely hiding the pure, raw lust that was emanating between us. On hands and knees, he crawled toward me, a slow smile curving his lips gracefully. He stopped long enough to plant a kiss on my stomach, tracing his tongue just beneath my “Don’t hesitate & GO” tattoo. Leaning up, he read it and smiled, a small chuckle escaping his throat.

“Interesting,” he whispered.

I shrugged at him, trying to smile but I was too hot, too full of want to manage much more than a whimper. His smile grew as he crawled higher, hovering over me, denying me the contact I so desperately craved.

“Please?” I whispered, willing my arms to move, to reach up and claim him.

They adamantly refused to obey.

“Please what?”

I whined at the growl in his voice, and I realized that he wanted to play with me, to make me open up to my wants and needs.

“Touch me.”

With a sigh, he lowered himself to me again, blowing me completely away with another of his kisses, his left hand trailing down my side lightly, the touch feather light. Back up, his hand traveled, over to the center of my chest and down again, coming to rest on the waistband of my pants. With practiced ease, he popped the button free and ran the zipper down. I sighed into our kiss as the pressure on my groin eased slightly, though I was far from comfortable.

I was taken by complete surprise when his hand dipped into my pants and found me, hard and willing. Snatching my lips from his, I let out a sharp, keening wail of passion, bringing another smile to his beautifully full lips. Panting, I dug my fingers into the bedspread beneath me, pushing into that hand, begging with my moans and my body for more, more, more.

Gackt wasted no time, sliding back down my body, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my jeans and tugging. I had enough presence of mind to lift my hips to aid in their removal, groaning as I was finally freed from my tight restraints. I cracked open my eyes when he didn’t return to me.

“What’s wrong?” I managed to choke out, gazing at him where he knelt at the end of the bed, staring.

“Nothing,” he forced out, his gaze raking my body from top to bottom. “It’s just… I never thought… Miya, you’re beautiful.”

I know I blushed. I shook my head and lifted my hands to my face. Moments later Gackt was there, tugging my hands away, holding them tightly in his own.

“You are,” he whispered, leaning down and suckling my earlobe gently around my earrings. “You are; you are so very, very beautiful. And I’m going to prove it to you.”

His hands left mine and I felt him move back to the lower end of the bed. My legs were nudged gently apart and I felt him settle between them. Opening my eyes again, I watched as he stared down at my erection, as if he was contemplating the best plan of action. But, being the straightforward man that he is, he settled on the most direct approach.

I didn’t even try to bite back the yell that erupted from me when I felt his hand and his lips wrap around me simultaneously. In a movement that sent my mind on permanent vacation, he had devoured me from top to bottom, his tongue moving languidly over and over my head. His hands on my hips were all that kept me from thrusting up and into that warm mouth, from pushing myself to orgasm on his sinful tongue.

 I groaned when he lifted his head once more, whining low in the back of my throat.

“It’s alright,” he soothed, running a hand down my thigh. “I was only wondering if you had anything I can use.”

“Top drawer,” I answered immediately, pointing a shaking hand toward the dresser.

Gackt raised his eyebrow at me as he slid from the bed and moved quietly across the room.

“It’s not my fault,” I defended when he opened the drawer and smirked. “Uruha and Aoi thought they were being cute. I swear, those two fuck bunnies are twisted.”

Gackt chuckled as he brought a small tube of lube and a box of condoms back to the bed. Setting them down, he began the task of removing his own pants.

“Wait,” I said, my voice stronger than I felt. “I want to do it.”

He dropped his hands to his sides as I sat up and crawled across the bed. Chewing my lip, I brushed my fingertips lightly across the bulge in his leather pants that indicated his current state of arousal. His hiss of pleasure encouraged me, and I set about untying the strings that held them closed, drawing each one slowly, teasingly so my fingertips kept a constant teasing pressure against him.

One of his hands slid into my hair as I finally pulled the last bit of lace free. Beneath lay a zipper which slid down with ease beneath my fingers. Sliding my hands into the waistband, I slowly pushed them down. I smiled brightly and paused, looking up at him.

“Is this normal?” I teased, indicating his lack of undergarments.

He shrugged, his eyes glazed with lust. I continued pushing the leather garment until he was able to step out of them and kick them aside. Leaning back up, I was met with the sight of his erection, tantalizing and already leaking. Grinning slyly, I reached out with my tongue and licked the tip, gathering his taste onto my tongue, groaning with him.

“No,” he said, gripping my shoulders and pushing me back onto the bed. “Not this time.”

I acquiesced, moving back to lie against the pillows once more as he resettled himself between my knees. He took the lube into his hand, squeezing a small amount into his palm, then set it aside again, still within reach. At his slight nudge, I brought my knees up as he settled back onto his elbows.

Lathering the lube over his fingers, Gackt ran his tongue up the underside of my member, once more rendering me thoughtless with pleasure. As his mouth moved up and down and around my flesh, I completely forgot his hands until I felt the first finger slide inside my body.

“Ah! Gaku!”

“It’s alright,” he soothed, moving his lips across my tip, his free hand across my stomach. “Relax.”

Relax? Relax? Was he fucking nuts?

The initial pain faded rather quickly as he slowly moved the single finger in and out, twisting slightly, as he resumed his painfully slow torture of my lower regions. When the second finger was added, my back arched completely off of the bed, my fingers scrabbling for purchase in the sweat soaked bedspread. The breath was completely stolen from me as a third finger was quickly added, scissoring and twisting deep inside as he pulled every inch of my hardened flesh into his talented mouth.

“Ah fuck!” I managed to yell, my voice taking on new octaves in my pleasure.

There was a light popping noise and the warm wetness was suddenly gone from my body, as were the talented, teasing fingers. Slumping back onto the bed, fighting just to breathe, I pried my eyes open as Gackt sat back. I could feel him trembling as he panted, his eyes still devouring me even if his mouth and hands weren’t.

“Please,” I whispered again, reaching a shaking hand for him.

I watched, mesmerized, as he took one of the condoms from the box, throwing it somewhere across the room, and began to prepare himself. His hands shook, but he was able to tear the foil open and remove the small piece of latex from the package. He groaned when his fingers came into contact with his neglected hardness, and I could tell that he was trying desperately hard not to touch himself too much lest this little tryst be over before it began.

“Now you’re the one who’s fucking beautiful,” I breathed, watching the display with wide eyes.

Our eyes met as he lathered lube onto himself, whimpering at the light touches. I felt my entire body twitch as he thrust lightly into his own hand, his eyes sliding closed.

“Gaku?”

He seemed to suddenly remember that I was there, that I was waiting for him to finish what he had started. A light blush crept into his cheeks as he crawled forward once more, laying a sizzling kiss on my lips. His hands slid behind my knees and drew them up higher, one hand dipping between us to guide himself.

“I can’t promise there will be no pain,” he whispered into my ear. “But I’ll do my best to make it the greatest thing you’ve ever felt.”

I nodded, willing my quaking body to relax. Still, all the relaxing in the world did no good when the first wave of pain shocked my body. I clutched at him, biting hard on my lower lip to stop the scream that wormed its way into my throat. Gackt pushed, rocking his hips in shallow thrusts, urging my body to accept him. When he slipped past my first barrier, I gave up on trying to contain it, and let out that scream. Luckily, I was pressed into Gackt’s shoulder, so my cry was muffled.

As he inched into my body, I felt more and more of my muscles stretching and tearing, and I could do little to stop the tears that leapt to my eyes and fell, cascading into my hair. Gackt nudged me into another kiss, one hand propping him above me, the other running soothing waves across my side, hip and leg.

“Miyavi…” he hissed, leaning his forehead against my shoulder.

Finally, finally, he stopped, finally he was in me, finally I could stop crying. Finally, I could feel him. He hovered over me, his eyes wide as he stared down at me, trembling, waiting. The pain was ebbing, quickly fading to a dull throb as my body adjusted to his intrusion, to his size and length.

“For all that’s good, Gackt, please,” I groaned, sliding my legs around his waist and hissing as he gained a few more centimeters within me, “fuck me now.”

XVII. Gackt: Inked Lines (2)

 

What about Miyavi drove me wild? What about him put me so near the edge of my own sanity that I couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe? Why did I love him so damn much when I knew, deep in my heart, that we were on borrowed time?

Keeping all of these things in mind, I kept myself by a bare thread of restraint, calmly and soothingly working Miyavi into a frenzy of hormones and passion. I worshiped him with my lips, my tongue, my fingers. I gave every ounce of myself into his preparation, denying my own being the very thing I so badly craved.

I barely restrained my surprise when Miyavi motioned me to the items I would need if we were to continue. I can’t imagine what we would have done if I had had to go into my own room to retrieve mine. Returning to the beautiful body stretched upon the bed, I made a mental note to thank Aoi and Uruha the next time I saw them, then decided to throw in a night out for them, my treat.

All thoughts of the two GazettE guitarists were shoved from my mind by the feeling of Miyavi’s tongue as it traced its way across the head of my erection. Even though I would have loved nothing more than to let him continue what he was doing, to push myself past those supple lips and lose myself in his warmth, I had to continue to deny myself a little longer.

Pushing Miyavi away from me, even for a brief moment, took more strength than I thought that I possessed.

I could tell that he was ready, eager, his body flushed from head to toe with excitement. Clamping down on my desire once more, I took another long taste of my lover.

From the first taste I’d had of him, the moment I felt Miyavi slip past my lips, his length hard and supple against my tongue, I knew that I was addicted. Of all the lovers I’d taken to my bed, men and women alike, Miyavi outstripped them all. He was one and unique, and now that I had him, I couldn’t get enough. His skin bore the spicy flavor that was a mix of sweat, sex, and something uniquely Miyavi. Miyavi was a drug, one stronger and more potent than anything in the world. One taste of him, one touch, one look, and everything in the world was turned upside down.

Slipping a finger into his body sent a shiver straight through me. He was perfect, he was warm, and above all, he was tight. It had been so long since I’d been with a first time, I almost lost control of myself. But the knowledge that Miyavi trusted me, that he was placing himself in my hands, held me at bay.

An eternity passed, and I was in him, buried in Miyavi’s body in such a way that I felt complete for the first time in years. The feeling of his legs wrapping around me, of sliding another inch inside him, was heaven.

“For all that’s good, Gackt, please, fuck me now.”

I needed no other encouragement. Pulling my hips back so that only the tip of my erection was secure within him, I surged back in. Miyavi’s cry and the way he arched his back told me that I was right. Pulling back once more, I thrust forward, searching, wanting to find the place I knew was there that would make him come completely undone.

“Ah fuck!” he yelled again, his nails digging into my back, most surely leaving angry red lines behind. “Gaku please!”

I straightened enough to reposition his legs slightly, drawing his knees closer to his stomach, before pivoting forward again. I knew I found what I was looking for then, because his entire upper body surged off of the bed, his mouth flying open in a silent scream. As I jerked backward, he collapsed back, panting, sweat pouring from his body in sheets.

Again and again, I surged into Miyavi, each time angling my thrusts to meet his prostate, pushing him further toward the edge, away from the safety of his sanity. His cries and moans and pleading eyes gave me the permission I needed to finally let myself free of my mental restraints, letting me give all of myself into our pleasure.

Suddenly, I stopped, pulling out and away. He cried out, his voice anguished.

“Gaku, what-?”

“Over,” I gasped. “Roll over.”

The pained expression left his face as he complied, understanding taking the place of sadness. I stared into his eyes as he stared over his shoulder, watching me remove the condom and toss it aside.

“Do you trust me?” I asked, moving behind him and placing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“With my life,” he replied breathlessly, rocking back against me as I positioned myself once more.

I let him move, let him take me back into his body, moaning loudly at the feeling of his flesh against mine, glad that he hadn’t panicked when I removed the one thing that kept us completely separated. When I was almost within him again, I pistoned forward sharply, filling him completely. He let out a sharp cry, burying his face in a pillow.

“Ah, Miya,” I panted, thrusting shallowly, brushing against his prostate lightly. “Amazing.”

I gathered him into my arms, pulling him upright, bringing his back flush against my chest so we both knelt on the bed. He groaned at the angle change, pushing down and back against me. Reaching around, he scraped his nails against my hips as I began thrusting again, my hands splayed across his chest in an effort to keep him upright.

In my mind’s eye, I could almost imagine what it would look like if there were a mirror in front of us. What we would look like at that moment. His tattooed body covered in sweat, glistening and undulating in his pleasure. His head leaned back on my shoulder, hair wild and untamed, matching the look that was hiding behind his closed eyes. His long legs parted slightly where he rested on his knees, his swollen and needy erection begging for attention.

And behind him, nearly as wild and even more unbridled, me. Gripping him, pulling him so close that some form of strange osmosis might cause us to become one. My hips thrusting against him, pushing into him with barely restrained passion. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, pulling a portion of his flesh into my mouth, marking him. He groaned, tilting his head to allow me better access.

Panting with effort, I slid one hand down, caressing his stomach tenderly before wrapping my fingers around his hard member. He cried out again as new sensations swept his oversensitized body, bucking forward into my hand.

“Damn Gackt,” he moaned. “Damn it, fuck you, oh hell!”

I couldn’t stop the laugh that poured out as I thrust upward, causing him to slip from my grasp and back onto all fours. I followed him down, pumping him in time to my thrusts.

He was close, I could tell. His muscles were clenching and unclenching around me, driving me insane with want of release, and his member was twitching in my hand, the vein on the underside thumping with a heavy pulse. He was working me to the edge and I couldn’t wait to fall.

“Miyavi,” I said harshly, my voice thready and weak, “baby, cum for me.”

I shifted again, angling perfectly to find his prostate again, tapping it hard, fast. The scream that was ripped from my lovers’ throat was loud, clear, un-muffled, and beautiful. I felt his release as it coated my fingers and palm, felt him tighten almost painfully around me. That was all it took, and I added my own scream to the air, releasing myself within Miyavi.

We collapsed onto the bed, panting, wheezing, fighting for the breath that we had spent in our passion. I rolled onto my side, taking Miyavi with me as I was unwilling to remove myself from him yet. He didn’t complain, but curled himself against me, whimpering as my slowly softening member shifted within him.

“Are you alright?” I whispered once we were both breathing somewhat normally.

“I’m better than alright,” he said, linking his fingers with mine. “I’m fantastic.”

I leaned up and over, capturing his lips in a slow, idle kiss. While I had him distracted, I removed myself from him, feeling him tense slightly and barely suppressing my own moan of sadness. Pulling back, I tucked him securely to my side, petting his hip and thigh until he relaxed, his body worn beyond anything I’m sure he’d ever imagined.

Once Miyavi was asleep, I slipped from his embrace long enough to take an extra blanket from the closet. In my absence, he’d rolled over and curled into a ball, shivering slightly. Spreading the blanket across him, I slid beneath it next to him. Immediately, he curled into my arms, whispering softly and incoherently in his sleep.

Content, spent, warm, and happy, I let myself follow my lover into dreams.

XVIII: Miyavi: Painful and Disastrous Aftermath

 

Waking the next morning brought about a whole new world of sensations. The most prominent of all being the pain.

Anyone who tells you that sex with another man is glorious, that you bask in an afterglow that radiates warmth and comfort forever is wrong. Dead wrong. Everything from my waist down felt like it was on fire. Even moving my toes seemed to send shock waves of pain through the rest of my body.

But… I didn’t mind this pain. Because when I was finally able to roll over, I came face to face with the most beautiful sight in the world.

Gackt. Sleeping peacefully on his stomach.

Lifting myself slightly, I looked across his body to the clock on the bedside table and read that it was only seven thirty. Biting back a groan, I moved closer to Gackt and curled up, drawing his warmth into my body. His arm wrapped around me again, and I saw him smile in his sleep as I settled more firmly into his grip.

The next time I woke up, there was a loud, insistent pounding on the door. Gackt shifted, irritation in the sigh that emanated from him as he slipped from the bed and into his pants.

“No, I’ll go,” he said softly when I made to get up. “Stay put.”

He smiled at me for a second before heading out to answer the pounding on the door.

“Gackt, what-?”

I barely had time to register Ju-Ken’s voice before there was a loud yell, a sharp cry, and a thudding sound. My painful body being momentarily forgotten, I scrambled from the bed and into a pair of sweatpants, bolting for the door.

Gripping the door frame, I took a quick look around. Ju-Ken was hovering in the doorway between hall and suite, confusion, anger, and sadness vying for real estate on his face. In front of him was Yoshiki, his small frame seeming larger as he was pulled to his full height, eyes flashing. He was glaring down at Gackt, who was on the floor next to the couch.

“I told you to fix it!” Yoshiki yelled. “Not fuck him!”

“What the hell?” I yelled, launching myself into the room and moving to Gackt’s side. “What’s going on here?”

“I should have known,” Yoshiki snarled, completely ignoring me as I helped Gackt to his feet. “What the hell kind of game are you playing, Gackt? Are you trying to destroy us before we’ve even had a chance to begin?”

Gackt stared at the drummer evenly, rubbing a spot on his chest that was already starting to bruise lightly. My own anger flared but Gackt’s light squeeze on my hand held me back. I looked at him, waiting for him to make his move.

“Yes, you told me to fix it,” Gackt said calmly. “And I have. Just like you told me to do.”

“I also told you that you weren’t to seduce him,” Yoshiki growled. “What the fuck is your problem, Gackt?”

I felt a tugging on my arm. Ju-Ken had slipped into the suite and was trying to draw me away. His eyes kept darting back and forth between the two men, fear becoming more and more evident in my friend’s eyes. A glance at Gackt, his slight, almost imperceptible nod at me, and I allowed Ju-Ken to draw me away. I was reluctant to leave, but the battle of wills that was taking place in the living room of my suite was likely to blow up soon. Away was safest.

Ju-Ken led me back into the bedroom, leaving the door open, and forced me to sit on the bed. I suppose I must have looked shocked or scared, because he sat next to me, slipping am arm around my waist and laying his head on my shoulder.

“What have I done?” I asked moments later, cringing as the voices rose in the other room.

“Nothing,” Ju-Ken said simply. “Nothing at all.”

“Then what the hell is going on out there?”

“Two strong willed men, both of whom have an interest in you and your future, are going head-to-head in a battle of words. One of those ‘my guns are bigger than yours’ kind of things, you could say.”

Despite everything, I laughed, settling against Ju-Ken, thankful for his comfort.

“Damn it, Gackt! What about ‘don’t do it’ don’t you understand?”

“The fact that you think you can tell me what I can and cannot do. That’s what I don’t understand.”

“Do you want to see him ruined?”

“Yoshiki, he is not me, and I am not Mana! This is not Malice Mizer, and I will not destroy him!”

A thick and heavy silence fell across the suite. Unraveling myself from Ju-Ken’s grip, I made my painful way back to the door. Gackt hadn’t moved an inch from where I’d left him. He stood resolutely, arms crossed, as he stared at Yoshiki. Neither man moved, none of us breathed.

“Do you think,” Yoshiki ground out through gritted teeth, “that that’s what this is about? That I’m afraid your past will override your good intentions where Miyavi is concerned? Because, my friend, that’s only part of the problem.”

For a split second, Gackt looked confused.

“What?”

Yoshiki turned on his heel and left. Moments later, Gackt deflated, leaning heavily on the couch and rubbing the bruise on his chest.

“Man, boss, I’m sorry,” Ju-Ken said, moving quickly to Gackt’s side. “He moved faster than I could react to.”

“No, it’s fine,” Gackt soothed, offering a small smile to Ju-Ken as he fussed. “Don’t worry about it. We just won’t tell Chachamaru about it, and we’ll both live.”

Ju-Ken chuckled.

“Deal.”

“I’m glad you two can laugh about this,” I called crossly from the bedroom door. “What the hell just happened?”

Gackt came to me and wrapped his arms around me. I clung to him, watching Ju-Ken smile over Gackt’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” Gackt said, pulling back to look at me. “It’s an old fight between Yoshiki and myself.”

I nodded, not quite believing him, but too tired to fight him. Ju-Ken cleared his throat, drawing our attention.

“What is it, Ju-Ken?” Gackt asked, grinning cheekily at his bassist.

“The reason we came up here,” Ju-Ken replied. “I thought you’d be interested to know.”

“Know what?”

“The band. You’re slated to play the Anime Expo in Long Beach. It’s been finalized. You’ve got your first venue.”

XIX: Gackt: The Daunting Task of Getting Along

 

I had expected Yoshiki’s reaction. Part of me almost welcomed it. It only drew Miyavi closer to me. It made the bond we shared stronger.

Practices after our argument were tense affairs, with Yoshiki barely speaking to me, Miyavi becoming more and more timid around him, and Sugizo giving all of us confused and despairing looks. But, for the sake of the band, we all managed, somehow, to continue on in a professional manner.

Well, if you can call Yoshiki putting his fist through a snare acting “professionally.”

Yoshiki had also taken to keeping Miyavi behind to have small talks with him. Miyavi refused to tell me what they were about, but I had an idea. If the young man’s pained and irritated expressions were any indication, the conversations were about me. Yoshiki was once more meddling in my affairs and trying to make a mess of something I so desperately craved.

A week after our first night together, after an especially long and harrowing practice, complete with a meddlesome conversation with Yoshiki, I decided to let Miyavi take out some aggression. Leading him into my suite after dinner, I told him to take control.

And he did.

Miyavi’s passion raged like a wildfire that night. At first, he was nervous about taking me, but after some encouragement, his misgivings fled as he took pleasure in me. Miyavi was willing and eager, concerned with my pleasure as well as his own. But the feeling of him within me and around me was more than enough to ensure that I walked away satisfied.

Three times we made love, followed by a fourth that was nearly brutal as all of Miyavi’s fear, sadness, and anguish finally bubbled to the surface. Through his tears, he spent himself in me for the final time, taking me with him physically and emotionally. Even in the madness of his emotional dilemma, Miyavi was exquisitely beautiful, tears and all. I had never seen anyone so distraught in my entire life, aside from looking in the mirror.

It made me want to hate Yoshiki.

The next day was a rare day off, thankfully, because neither of us could have moved even if we’d wanted to.

“Gackt?”

I turned at the sound of Sugizo’s voice, aware that I had hardly touched the food in front of me.

“What?”

“I just asked if you were alright,” the guitarist said. “I mean, you agreed to come to lunch with me. Me. The guy you proclaim to hate.”

I turned away and resumed staring at the untouched sandwich lying limply on my plate. It suddenly looked very unappetizing.

“I believe in second chances,” I finally said, pushing the plate away from me in disgust.

“Second, third, tenth, two-hundredth,” Sugizo waved a hand. “What’s going on, Gackt? What the hell happened between you, Miyavi, and Yoshiki?”

“It has little, if anything, to do with Miyavi,” I muttered.

“Really?” Sugizo scoffed. “It looks like he’s on the receiving end of a Yoshiki huff as well.”

I couldn’t argue, so I let the comment hang in the air between us.

“Gackt, I know you don’t like me,” Sugizo went on softly. “And personally, I don’t think I can blame you. But, for the sake of the band…”

“Don’t,” I said. “Please.”

Sugizo looked wounded, but he let it go. For that, I was grateful.

 

Outside of meetings at the studio or Yoshiki’s house, Miyavi and I spent most of our waking hours together. We agreed that, while Yoshiki had every right to be upset over our relationship, we weren’t going to let it get in the way of our happiness.

Waking up in the morning next to my colorful young lover brought so many wonderful changes to my life. Not even Ju-Ken’s incessant teasing could dampen my spirits. We were carefree and happy, Las Angeles was our playground. We chose not to let anything stand in our way.

“Gaku?”

“Hmm?”

“Who are you staring at?”

I blinked, catching the faintest hint of teasing in Miyavi’s voice. Looking around, I came back to the reality that was the nightclub that we were currently sitting in. The heat of many bodies suddenly washed over me, renewing the layer of sweat on my exposed skin.

“No one.”

“Is she prettier than me?”

I turned my attention to the creature curled at my side, smiling. Knowing that we were in the dark, that we were in an undisturbed booth as far from the main body of action as possible, knowing that no one could see us unless they really tried, I pulled Miyavi into my arms and kissed him deeply.

Kissing Miyavi is like touching heaven. His lips, his tongue, his taste, even that damn lip ring all worked together to cloud my mind with lust and passion. I groaned as he slid his hand up my leg to rub me through the material of my leather pants. I broke away and leaned my head back against the wall.

“Well?” he whispered into my ear, rubbing harder. “Is she?”

“First of all,” I choked out, “there is no ‘she’ that I was looking at. Secondly, there isn’t a woman, or man for that matter, in here that would ever take my eyes from you. Thirdly, keep this up and I might be inclined to take you right here in this booth.”

Miyavi chuckled, but removed his hand.

“I never said I was against that,” he said, laying a kiss on my neck. “But, I want to top tonight.”

I snapped my eyes open to stare at the younger man. Miyavi had yet to demand something like that. He always seemed perfectly content to follow my lead in the bedroom. After that night he had dominated me so completely, I thought that he would ask again, sooner. Still, I was far from prepared for the confidence in his voice. It aroused me further.

“If you think you can handle it,” I shot back playfully, sliding an arm around his waist.

“I know I can handle it,” he smirked. “Come on.”

XX. Miyavi: Sundering the Heavens

 

“Miyavi, a word please?”

Seriously, would Yoshiki’s meddling never end?

I made a show of securing my guitar case properly before I turned around to face the smaller man. Instead of the normal level of anger, though, Yoshiki’s face was subdued, even a little sad.

“Of course,” I said in reply to his question. “What’s up?”

I half expected him to continue on his rampage about my relationship with Gackt, which I had grown very numb to by this point. Instead, he seemed resigned, withdrawn. Even a little defeated.

“There’s really nothing I can do to stop the two of you, is there?” he asked.

Confused though I was, I held my composure.

“I don’t think so, no.”

“You don’t understand the gravity of my position here.”

I was shocked by the pleading sound his voice took on.

“What position, Yoshiki?”

“There are four reputations riding on this one dream, this one act. For this band to work, all four of us have to understand that there are things that can and cannot be done, lines that can and cannot be crossed.”

“Lines?” I scoffed. “Yoshiki, you want to preach at me about lines with a past as riddled with holes as yours is?”

I immediately regretted the words when Yoshiki’s face took on a slapped expression. Still, I knew that I couldn’t just let him tear me down again. Our band leader wouldn’t win that easily.

“Miyavi,” he went on, composing himself as if nothing had been said. “My point is that you and Gackt are going on like you don’t have a care for the rest of us. Like it doesn’t bother you that there’s a lot to lose if this gamble the two of you insist upon taking goes wrong.”

“Is that how you see love, Yoshiki?” I spat, my anger rising before I could get a handle on it. “A gamble? Something that you attempt, then shrug and walk away from when it doesn’t work out? Do you cast love like you cast dice? Is that how you see it?”

“I didn’t-,”

“I don’t care!” I yelled, losing my cool completely. “For two weeks you’ve badgered me, pushed me, and tried to convince me against something I believe in. I don’t see you wheedling at Gackt like this! What is it? Are you afraid of him? Or do you think you can bully me into submission just because I’m young and seemingly innocent to the ways of the big, bad world? News flash Yoshiki, I’m not a child. I’m not naïve. I know what I want, and I’m not going to let you get in the way of that.”

Having said my fill, I turned and fled for the door, snatching my guitar case and bag up on the way out. Gackt and Sugizo were waiting in the hall when I slammed my way through the door, but I ignored them both completely, storming out of the building into the growing twilight.

“No right!” I screamed in my head as I shouldered my bag and adjusted my grip on my guitar. “He has no right to tell me what I can do! He’s not my father.”

I walked and I raged quietly. Internally, I screamed at the injustice of the situation. I was a grown man. So was Gackt. It was our choice, our choice, what we did and whom we did it with. Yoshiki might be our band leader, he might have been the one to come up with the entire damn idea to create this so-called “super band,” but that didn’t give him ownership of our lives. It wasn’t as if Gackt and I were flaunting ourselves to the world. We kept what we did private, behind closed doors. To the public eye, I was the guitarist, he was the vocalist. No one knew, nor did anyone have to know.

Yoshiki’s fears were unfounded and stupid. He was basing his assumptions on his pride rather than his good sense, and he was causing more problems than he thought he was solving. In my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder why Yoshiki was acting like a school girl who’d been rejected in favor of her best friend. There was just absolutely no reason for it. None at all. 

I was unaware of the tears streaming down my face until I tasted the salt on my lips. It had been forever since anyone had made me cry, and once I’d started, I couldn’t seem to stop.

I felt an arm slip into mine. Glancing to the side, I felt a moment’s relief when I saw that it was Ju-Ken and not Gackt. Without a word, he led me down the street. I followed him, letting the tears continue to streak my face. Ju-Ken led me silently to the hotel, past the confused doorman and the concerned concierge at the front desk, into an elevator, and up to our floor. I handed him my keycard and he led me into my suite.

We slipped out of our shoes at the door before I stepped away from his grasp to move to the windows on the other side of the room, dropping my bag and guitar on the couch.

“Miyavi?” he finally said.

“Hmm?”

“Do you want me to get you anything?”

“No. Thank you, Ju-Ken, but no.” I smiled sadly at him. “I just want to be alone right now. I want a long, hot shower and a long sleep.”

He nodded, looking thoroughly unconvinced.

“You know where I’ll be if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

Ju-Ken left, no doubt going to report to his boss that I had made it back to the hotel safely rather than throwing myself into traffic, as I might have been prone to doing. I was touched by their concern for me, but my mind was too clouded to dwell on their niceties for long.

Sighing, I slipped my T-shirt over my head as I aimed my steps for the bedroom. Slipping into the bathroom, I dropped the shirt and stepped out of my pants, discarding them to the side. Reaching into the shower stall, I turned the hot water up on high and added a little cold water so I didn’t burn myself. I groaned when I stepped in, the hot water rushing across my head and down my back, easing some of the tension in the muscles.

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I closed my eyes, bit my lip, curled my hands into fists on either side of my face, and cried again.