SAY SOMETHIN' OUTRAGEOUS

'Only Do What I'm Told' (Big Bang, Taeyang/Seungri) PG-13

Sun, 08 Nov 2009 02:14:31 GMT

Title: Only Do What I'm Told
Pairing: TaeYang/SeungRi
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Yaoi, mentions of sexual happenings
Word Count: 515
Synopsis: His entire life has been planned, written out on a piece of paper and magnetized to the front of the fridge. Tasks and goals are checkmarked as they’re finished.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

His entire life has been planned, written out on a piece of paper and magnetized to the front of the fridge. Tasks and goals are checkmarked as they’re finished.

The first thing to happen that isn’t on that piece of paper is YG Entertainment.

It wasn’t a surprise, really, when JiYong told him about the auditions. “You should try, hyung, you have a good voice.” Of course that was when the only times he would sing was in the shower and in church choir, belting out the words and hymns with as much strength as he could muster.

God obviously appreciated the effort.

To say he was surprised when he was accepted would be dishonest. And YoungBae was not a dishonest man. When he told his parents he was going to become a singer, a dancer, an idol, his mother burst into tears while his father left to go to church.

His parents didn’t say goodbye when he left.

So YoungBae made a new plan.

~*~

The second thing to happen that isn’t on that piece of paper is SeungRi.

Everything about SeungRi is unplanned, is uncoordinated, is almost sinful in the way he does things. He has chronic diarrhea of the mouth and he has strong hands and unkempt hair and dark circles that never go away and an infectious smile.

And abs that make YoungBae busy at night beneath the sheets, eyes closed, fist pumping and the maknae’s name spilling from his lips in quiet breaths when he comes.

It’s evil.

YoungBae doesn’t care anymore and throws his life plan away.

~*~

The first time YoungBae drinks is after they signed their Hite contract. SeungHyun bought two cases of the stuff and convinced the four of them to drink, to appreciate the taste so they can do better in their commercials.

YoungBae believed him and drank four bottles before he was laying sprawled on the couch, giggling over how JiYong’s tongue looked tangled with SeungHyun’s on the floor.

And then SeungRi comes home from musical practice, and everything is right. YoungBae feels light. When SeungRi scolds him and proceeds to help the mohawked man down the hall to his bedroom, YoungBae is all giggles and slurred whispers of things like ‘I ate an orange today’ and ‘let’s go to the park tomorrow.’ No drunken confessions of love (or lust) and no groping.

When YoungBae falls rather haphazardly onto his bed, he smiles and pulls SeungRi down and then they’re kissing.

The third thing to happen that isn’t on that thrown away piece of paper is actually getting SeungRi.

~*~

The next morning isn’t awkward and there is no walk of shame.

When YoungBae rolls over, Lee SeungHyun smiles at him and runs his fingers over some of the bristles of his shaved head and kisses his forehead and whispers ‘good morning’ and his morning breath is awful.

But it’s perfect.

Notes: A little sappier than I meant, but oh well. My first BaeRi, so I'm kind of nervous about it. >_> This is a birthday present for my bby, prison_gates. Happy late birthday baby. ♥
X-Posted to baeri & bigbang_fanfic.

'Vanishing' (Big Bang, TOP/GD) R

Tue, 03 Nov 2009 05:11:39 GMT

Title: Vanishing
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: R
Warnings: Yaoi, language
Word Count: 375
Synopsis: The ice cream slides down his chin and suddenly Jiyong is angry. How dare he not appreciate the fucking ice cream? “I bet if she went out and got it for you you’d eat it up just like that!”
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

“It’s really fucking simple, Seunghyun. I don’t see what your fucking problem is.”

Not that he could answer, but hey.

“People don’t make promises they can’t keep. Therefore, you keep your fucking promises.”

Simple as that. Simple as pie, or cake, or ice cream.

Speaking of which.

“Look, I even bought your favourite.”

It was slightly melted, but Seunghyun liked it that way, if he remembered right. And Jiyong always remembered right.

“C’mon, eat up. I went out and got it just for you.”

The ice cream slides down his chin and suddenly Jiyong is angry. How dare he not appreciate the fucking ice cream? “I bet if she went out and got it for you you’d eat it up just like that!” he shouted and the sound of the bowl shattering almost drowned out his shout. But not quite.

“Bet you ate boxes and boxes of it with the fat bitch, huh?!”

A slap, and his cheek is cold from the ice cream splattered on it.

“All I do is try and make you fucking happy, you piece of shit! You’re a fucking liar!”

Another bruise is added to Seunghyun’s neck and chest and cheek and the man doesn’t even try and fight back, just sits there and takes it and stares past Jiyong like he isn’t really there, like he’s fucking invisible.

“I fucking love you! Is this what you want?!”

He grabs her by the hair, jerks her upright and she’s crying. The pussy bitch is crying and whimpering against her fucking gag and it’s disgusting, it makes the blonde’s stomach twist in nausea. Is this what girls were good for? Crying and sucking cock and bearing kids?

Her whimpers are making his ears ring and he’s screaming inside his head as Seunghyun watches, his whole demeanor changing when she’s in his line of vision. Oh that’s right. Fucking care.

“I’ll cut her fucking throat,” Jiyong whispers, grabbing a shard of the bowl and holding it up to her throat. Her trembles and cries strengthen. He tightens his grip on the glass until a bead of blood drops. “Say you love me. Fucking say it.”

Seunghyun stares.

And stares.

And stares.

“I love you.”

It’s a lie.

He slits her throat anyway.

'Here's to Happiness' (Big Bang, TOP/GD) R

Sun, 20 Sep 2009 21:33:07 GMT

Title: Here's to Happiness
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: R
Warnings: Yaoi, language, drug use
Theme: Project Reconstruct; Drugs
Word Count: 1075
Synopsis: Will he see things written across Jiyong’s face in neon sharpie that he shouldn’t, that Jiyong doesn’t want written there, but at the same time wants to scream from the top of the fucking rooftops?
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

Take with someone you trust, Hyuksoo says. Take with someone you love, Hyuksoo says. Jiyong has half a mind that Hyuksoo is meaning him, but Jiyong doesn’t bring out the baggies with him, because Jiyong doesn’t trust Hyuksoo like he trusts Seunghyun, doesn’t love Hyuksoo like he loves Seunghyun.

Maybe it’s a bias.

And Jiyong won’t admit he’s afraid, because he’s heard stories about the cute little pills, heard that it can make you see truths and miracles and faiths and mystics and if Seunghyun takes it, will he see the truths? Will he see things written across Jiyong’s face in neon sharpie that he shouldn’t, that Jiyong doesn’t want written there, but at the same time wants to scream from the top of the fucking rooftops?

Maybe it’s that thought that makes Jiyong pull out the baggie, makes him hold up the perfect pink heart and smile hopefully.

Today is nothing special - it’s not a birthday or an anniversary or a holiday, just a simple Wednesday straddling the fence between autumn and winter in the middle of October. Sitting in the middle of the park in the middle of the day right in the middle of their cigarettes and Seunghyun looks at him, head cocked curiously. “What’s that?” he asks, taking a drag and Jiyong stutters, not sure what to say.

“Happiness,” he murmurs simply, and Seunghyun smiles.

And he takes the love and pops it under his tongue before laying back on the grass. And it’s just that simple.

Twenty minutes later Jiyong can see the music from his earbuds, the clouds and the butterflies and the leaves dancing to it and he smiles. When he looks at Seunghyun, the older man glows like a star and he’s smiling and his eyes are closed and fuck he’s perfection swathed in expensive fabric.

“Have you ever been in love, Seunghyun?”

And it starts. A river of words and laughs and whispers and cries and Seunghyun has never talked so much in his life to Jiyong and it’s nice, it’s progress...but it’s about women. About women who made him smile and about women who made him cry and about women who were good sex and about women who were good cooks and is this what Seunghyun’s life is about?

Women?

And just like that, Jiyong’s roll is turned into a tumble and he just wants to go home. Sweat starts to collect on his forehead as Seunghyun continues about a girl who pushes him to be a bigger better person, about a girl who makes him smile with a simple look. Jiyong starts to shake, wraps his arms around himself and sees the grass dying around them as Seunghyun laughs and stretches his arms to the sky.

“She makes me fly!” he shouts, and Jiyong thinks he’s rotting away.

The glow has intensified so much it hurts his eyes.

When they get home, Jiyong spends hours locked in the bathroom crying.

He blames it on the X, blames it on the lack of serontonin in his fucking brain but all he can think about is Seunghyun’s big shit-eating smile and the fucking way he glowed. He glowed.

Has he met this girl?

Has he shook her hand, has he said her name, has he been friends with her?

Girls are fucking smart, she’s probably seen the way he looks at Seunghyun, probably seen the way Jiyong pines over him like a fucking puppy dog.

They probably laugh about it together.

~*~

The next time is on the couch watching cartoons. Jiyong’s sketchbook is filled with fierce eyes, broad eyebrows, thick fingers and a snarky smirk before the pill is placed atop his hand, balanced carefully on the eraser of his pencil and Jiyong normally would have thought it was sweet save for the fact he’s still angry.

This one is a green smiley face. Cute.

“What’s this?” Jiyong mumbles, staring at it. He knows exactly what it is, and he doesn’t want it. But when he looks up and Seunghyun smiles hopefully at him, like a kid hoping his valentine will accept his card, he feels his anger dissipating like steam out an open window.

“Truth.”

Thirty minutes later and Jiyong is dancing to music only he can hear. His hands are raised and his hips are shaking and Seunghyun is smiling, just watching, just smiling so wide it makes his own face hurt.

“Have you ever been in love, Jiyong?”

And it’s Jiyong’s turn to ramble on. Only his is about one person, and one person only. “She makes me so happy, Seunghyun. She makes my heart burst.”

And Jiyong figures the look of pain that crosses Seunghyun’s face is just the MDMA talking.

“Can I meet her sometime?” Seunghyun asks, and he smiles softly and it makes Jiyong smile back. Meet her. Precious.

“Yes.”

~*~

The next time they roll it’s after one of his performances. He’s sweaty and high on life and doesn’t turn it down when Seunghyun holds up the white circle. The Japanese symbol for ‘truth’ is carved into it.

“To love,” Jiyong says before letting the powder dissolve on his tongue, can see butterflies with hearts on their wings flying from the crowd. When Seunghyun smiles at him in that doofy way he has when he’s really satiated, really happy, Jiyong wants to cry out of pure admiration and he grabs the man’s huge hands in his own and holds them against his chest, his pounding and aching heart beating away against the older’s palm.

“Do you want to meet her, Seunghyun?”

It feels like they’re floating, swimming down a river of heat as Jiyong leads the tall rapper back into one of the many dressing rooms. A mirror stretches out across the entire wall, lined with lightbulbs and chairs and a counter littered with forgotten compacts and eyeliner and cans of hairspray. “She’s here,” Jiyong whispers, like a conspiracy, like a secret. “Here.” And Seunghyun is staring at himself, his long hair perfect and his eyebrows raised and his cheekbones seeming even deeper in the shadow of the room and it makes Jiyong’s heart ache and his fingers twitch to want to touch him.

Seunghyun smiles and reaches forward, finger tracing over Jiyong’s reflection next to him. “She’s beautiful.”

And then they kiss.

And it’s perfection.

X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top.

'L.O.V.E You' (Big Bang, TOP/GD) PG-13

Wed, 09 Sep 2009 03:37:52 GMT

Title: L.O.V.E You
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIG BANG
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Abuse
Word Count: 579
Synopsis: Some of them ripped. Some of them shredded. Some of them stained with blood and semen and spit and tears.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIG BANG or Epik High and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]
Comments: Lyrics from Epik High's 'Map of the Soul (Worldwide Version)'

I'm privileged. So amazing, no question.
And I'm knowing soon enough we'll get where we're going.
Just thinking about it I can feel my heart growing.
Am I tripping? Or is it that I finally see?
I don't know, but my heart is saying you're the one for me.
Please believe me.
I'm exactly where I want to be.

~*~

The blood takes an hour to scrub out.

By the time Seunghyun sits back against the wall, his arms are sore and his sweat is collecting on his upper lip. Crossing his legs, he holds up the simple t-shirt to the light and nods. Good enough. Put it in the wash and no one will know.

Except them, that is.

Except that Jiyong keeps looking at him with such a look of desperation and guilt it’s tearing Seunghyun apart and driving him crazy. “I’ll do laundry,” the blonde says quietly, taking the shirt before Seunghyun can protest and scuttling away to gather the rest of the dirty clothes, strewn across his room.

Some of them ripped. Some of them shredded. Some of them stained with blood and semen and spit and tears.

But Seunghyun doesn’t even think of leaving.

~*~

Weeks pass by without incident. Jiyong’s promotions are going exceptionally well, he’s staying atop the charts. Up early to practice, out late to promote.

And then, he’s knocked from number one.

Jiyong comes home and the door slams and Seunghyun knows tonight’s going to be one of those nights. A shoe hits the wall, a jacket ripping when it catches on a chair and the blonde curses loudly. Standing from the couch, Seunghyun looks over and Jiyong is all fury, flying at him and landing punches against his chest and stomach.

He’s crying and screaming.

Seunghyun takes it, closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall. They don’t hurt, not really, his tiny fists don’t hold much power. It’s what happens when you don’t eat, don’t sleep, only breathe music and money and ratings.

But Seunghyun takes it.

~*~

The next day Jiyong makes breakfast and delivers it in bed. Normally that was a no-no; Jiyong didn’t like crumbs in bed. Jiyong showers with him and whispers sweet nothings in his ear and demands they go to the park. He races Seunghyun there and then dominates the playground, crowing his name is King Kwon and climbing atop the slides to shout and pound his chest.

He spins Seunghyun on the merry-go-round, running so fast his legs are a blur and Seunghyun can’t help but laugh and feel sick as he clings to one of the bars. When they collapse into the grass, Jiyong holds his hand and smiles so easily and points, naming the clouds by their shapes.

Seunghyun knows this is how it’s supposed to be.

~*~

So I ask, what would I be without you?
Like Stevie without Wonder, hunger without food.
A sheep without a shepard. A sleep without your message
that despite the skeptics, in the end you were true.
And I knew that there was more to life.
And I grew living for the light.
I took my answers, combined them with yours.
It made life exciting, but it closed some doors.

Comments: This was originally going to be for Project Reconstruct's theme of 'Domestic Abuse' but I didn't really think it fit with that. Yes, there is some, but...I didn't like it enough to put it in with Project Reconstruct. But I am quite fond of this for some reason.
X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top.

'Grasshopper Dance' (BIG BANG, TOP/GD) R

Tue, 18 Aug 2009 07:00:16 GMT

Title: Grasshopper Dance
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIG BANG
Rating: R
Warnings: Language
Word Count: 465
Synopsis: Because Jiyong doesn’t feel emotions anymore, apparently.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIG BANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

Somewhere along the line, he changed.

His smile isn’t as frequent, isn’t as accessible, and then when it does make an appearance it isn’t as bright.

Isn’t as light.

Isn’t as perfect.

And Seunghyun doesn’t like it. Seunghyun doesn’t like it at all and he tries his hardest, really he does. Always cracking jokes and doing stupid shit just to see a flash of the old Jiyong.

But still, it isn’t there, and it bothers him to the point he feels sick and can’t sleep.

When GD comes back with platinum hair and odd eyebrows and dark eyes, it’s like a slap in the face, because his smile isn’t anywhere to be seen. The only trace are the beginnings of laugh lines around his mouth, but they’re easily covered by layers of foundation and a scowl that makes Seunghyun’s stomach twist.

When did this happen?

“What is wrong with you?!” Seunghyun demanded one morning, throwing his box of cereal onto the floor much to the other member’s surprise.

That is, except for Jiyong. Because Jiyong doesn’t feel emotions anymore, apparently.

“What the hell do you mean?” Jiyong asks, frowning and looking up from his breakfast. An orange. “There’s nothing wrong with me. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re the dumb shit throwing food.”

And really, Seunghyun has no answer but to shout and stomp out of the kitchen, slamming his bedroom door open.

He would never admit he cried.

And still, the new Jiyong persists. An alien in his best friend’s skin.

~*~

Jiyong is smoking again. Seunghyun can smell it, permeating off his clothes and his hair and skin. His fingers are becoming discolored again, and he’s brushing his teeth more to keep them pearly white.

Jiyong is drinking again. Smuggling bottles of vodka and whiskey (his favourites) under his jacket and under his bed, where he had used to hide them when they were fresh trainees. Most nights he locks himself into his bedroom and drinks himself into a stupor. Seunghyun had can hear him rambling drunkenly to himself.

Jiyong is partying again. Most nights, after he’s gone out and did his new album promotions and been the good YG kid, he wouldn’t come home until ass-o’ clock in the morning, drunk and smelling like smoke and sweat and booze and sex. Sometimes he brings people home with him, tall slender women with too much lipstick and too much leg showing or androgynous young men with gelled hair and painted fingernails.

Jiyong is fucking people, and it’s the first time Seunghyun has known the man to have actual human needs and it’s weird.

And Seunghyun doesn’t know what to do anymore.

X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & [Bad username: g_top"].

'Taste of Leather' (the GazettE, Reita/Ruki) NC-17

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 03:15:35 GMT

Title: Taste of Leather
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi, language, retifism (aka shoe fetish)
Word Count: 970
Synopsis: It’s not everyday you’d find a man who’d let Ruki indulge like this.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

He’s wearing The Boots again.

He knows those Boots drive Ruki crazy.

It’s kind of sad to think that when Reita wants sex he doesn’t have to flutter rose petals or light candles or shake his hips or wear slutty nurse or schoolgirl outfits. He just has to put on his old worn 14 eyelet white boots and Ruki would practically beg to be fucked.

Kind of sick more than sad, really.

But that doesn’t stop Ruki’s cock from twitching, doesn’t stop his eyes from slowly dropping to the beautiful white leather whenever Reita is there. The bassist even taunts him, leans against walls and lifts one foot to set against the surface and taps his toes or crosses his ankles and gives Ruki perfect views of those gorgeous, gorgeous shoes.

Bastard.

But he lasts the whole day, full of practice and interviews and it’s long and tedious and Kai works them to the bone and yet Ruki still has his eyes plastered to the beautiful concoction of leather and metal and rubber and Reita’s foot and oh. He tries to control himself, really he does, but anytime the older bassist comes within touching distance and ‘accidently’ bumps Ruki with his Boot it’s like an electric shock sent straight to his cock.

Yeah, so he’s a little twisted.

When Kai finally declares the day over and pats them all on the back, Ruki is the first to run around and gather his and Reita’s things. His bag, his jacket, Reita’s jacket...Grabbing Reita’s hand, Ruki is like a kid in a candy store, pulling the older man out insistently and shooting glances over his shoulder that screams ‘come with me now or you’ll never get laid again.’

Needless to say, Reita isn’t one to argue as he’s dragged out to his car. The ride is uncomfortable and stifling and Reita’s hand on his crotch isn’t helping matters at all. He writhes and clutches at the leather upholstery and bites his lip hard enough to make his eyes water and almost demands Reita to find an empty parking lot but the drive isn’t long. The singer simply chants ‘almost there’ in his head and thrusts his hips up into the older’s huge palm and all is well.

But all is perfect when he pushes Reita down onto their oversized bed and the bassist is smirking and pressing his Boot rather forcefully against Ruki’s erection. It hurts, but it’s a good kind of hurt and when Ruki looks down to see his thighs gripping the worn beauties he almost comes right then and there. Letting out a guttural groan, he drops to his knees and reaches up with trembling hands to slide his fingertips along the outside of Reita’s foot, the leather rough in patches and so exquisite to the touch.

He bends to kiss it, bends to touch his lips and tongue and teeth to the fashion staple but before they can connect he’s on the floor, the Boot pressing his face into the carpet and his cheek is being squashed and he must look like an idiot, but fuck if he cares. Reita leans over him, a predatory gleam in his eye and an easy smirk on his lips. “Lick it,” he whispers, voice rough and deep with arousal and Ruki lets out a small groan.

It’s not everyday you’d find a man who’d let Ruki indulge like this.

The pressure on his head is lifted only slightly so Ruki can turn his head, can slowly run the flat of his tongue along the side of the Boot. The leather tastes like...well, he can’t really explain it. Just that the taste and the feel of the shoe under his tongue and the way Reita is watching him makes his cock ache and he desperately wants to be fucked, dammit. Another languid lick and a playful little suck on the sole and Ruki is being pulled up and pressed onto his stomach on the mattress.

They don’t bother with niceties, they don’t bother with pulling off clothes. Pants and underwear are simply pushed away, Reita standing by the edge of the bed and his pants around his ankles while Ruki’s are around his thighs, pulled down only enough to let them get to the good parts. When the bassist tongues his ass, Ruki cries out and arches and claws at the mattress and sheets. Amazing how only Reita (and his Boots) can make him do this, only Reita (and his Boots) can make him this desperate for a good fuck. Fingers and tongue together work his entrance until they’re finally replaced with cock, with hard thrusts and bites to shoulders and Ruki is practically crying, his own erection leaking onto the sheets. “Akira! Fuck!”

Reita whispers dirty things in his ear, bites and sucks at the piercings and makes the most sexual and animalistic noises and Ruki is sure he’s not going to last much longer before it hits. Hard and almost painful and Ruki is screaming. His body is sensitive as Reita continues to fuck him, making little almost-pained noises work from Ruki’s throat until finally Reita is there, releasing into him, his mouth working silently around a groan, fingers gripping the vocalist’s hips so hard it’s painful.

They don’t bother with dressing, with after-sex cuddles or kisses. Reita simply lays next to him, both struggling to catch their breath, before Ruki smiles.

He simply grins.

“You’re such a sick fuck,” Reita laughs breathlessly, rolling his head over to look at the vocalist.

“I know,” Ruki murmurs, eyes closed, hands resting splayed on his belly. “I know.”

But neither of them mind. Not really. Reita likes these Boots anyway.

Comments: Ruki admitted to having a foot/shoe fetish on Aoi's radio show.
That's all.
X-Posted to _quaintnotion, gazette_yaoi & jrockyaoi.

'Lifespan of a Fly' (BIG BANG, TOP/GD) R

Sun, 09 Aug 2009 20:13:04 GMT

Title: Lifespan of a Fly
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: R
Warnings: Yaoi, language, CHARACTER DEATH
Theme: Project
Word Count: 1364
Synopsis: Then one morning, I woke up to hair all over the pillow. His hair. His gorgeous hair.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

When we met, his hair was down to his shoulders. It had some natural waves, flipping out at the ends when he let it down, curling against his head when it was up in a ponytail. A gorgeous auburn, not tainted by dyes or highlights or lowlights or whatever the fuck people are doing to their hair anymore.

I complimented it, told him his hair was beautiful, and his smile hurt my eyes it was so bright.

That night after I fucked him, I expected him to get up and get dressed and leave. Most people did that these days anyway, it didn’t really bother me much. But he didn’t. He stayed and curled against my side and kissed my nipples and told me my hair was beautiful as well. He ran his fingers through it and murmured sweet nothings into it and he made me feel beautiful, gorgeous, amazing, perfect.

He told me his name was Kwon Jiyong, 21 years old, he was attending community college to be a fashion designer, loved dancing and cooking and sewing, favourite colour was blue and favourite food was marshmallows. I laughed and told him marshmallows didn’t count as food and he smiled and kissed me and we had sex two more times that night.

The next morning, he was still there, standing in the kitchen in one of my old t-shirts. I hadn’t realized how frail he was until he was standing there in the morning sunshine, cooking pancakes and humming and dancing and his skin was glowing a translucent white and I could count his ribs through the shirt. I touched his back and could feel his spine, could trace each rib and his sternum and he smiled.

He was always smiling.

He became my first real boyfriend, the kind that brings you flowers ‘just because’ and came to my work to bring me lunch and lean over my desk and peck sneaky little kisses and one time we had sex in the broom closet. He wasn’t very good at keeping quiet and I almost got fired over it, but it didn’t really matter. He liked to go to parks and take pictures of us together on his phone, making funny faces while I just stared and he’d laugh and make me push him on the swings.

“Higher, higher, I want to fly!”

He’d spread his arms and close his eyes and he was so beautiful it made my heart ache, sometimes.

I met his sister and she held my hand too tightly and her smile was sad. Not like his. Not so bright it lit up the room. When he went to the bathroom she asked me if I loved him.

I said yes. Yes I did.

Her smile was still so sad.

Jiyong moved in on our six month. He didn’t have much - a cherished vanity his grandmother had given him, his extensive clothing and shoe and accessory collection, some kitchen ware, some stuffed animals. He cried as we made love, whispering that this was our bed, our apartment, our future.

I told him I loved him and he cried even harder.

The next morning he wasn’t there when I woke up. He wasn’t there when I came home from lunch, and he wasn’t there when I got home. I called him a total of 27 times (left only 9 voicemails) until he finally came home, tired and smelling funny and he wouldn’t tell me where he had gone but he smiled so bright and told me he loved me and made dinner and we made love again and he cried the entire time.

He was growing thinner. More weak.

Then one morning, I woke up to hair all over the pillow. His hair. His gorgeous hair.

He was sitting in the shower, naked and wet and shivering and his hair was falling out as he sobbed and tried to hold it in but there it went. Strand by strand. Clump by clump. I held him and watched in horror as the drain became clogged with it all, as his sobs became so violent he couldn’t breathe.

I called in that day, and the next, and the next.

His doctors were nice, were respectful. They explained everything so I could understand, didn’t try to impress me with big words and big explanations.

A brain tumor. A reoccuring brain tumor, at that. They had gotten it, nipped it in the bud when he was 12. Everything had been fine.

It had come back, and with a vengeance.

And this time, they said flatly, he wasn’t going to survive.

That night I screamed and threw things and cried and he sat in a corner, curled up with his knees tucked under his chin, his hair so thin I could count the strands and see the blinding white of his scalp. I shook him and screamed in his face and broke a mirror.

“Seven years bad luck, Seunghyun,” was the only thing he whispered, eyes trained blankly on the floor.

I cried until I threw up and passed out in the bathroom, not sure what to do or where to go or what to say.

What do you say when the person you love more than anything else is slowly wasting away?

Nothing, you find out. Nothing. Jiyong never wanted to talk about it. His sister never wanted to talk about it. His mother never wanted to talk about it. His friends didn’t know. I was stuck with so many questions and so many worries and so many why God why’s and no answers. I simply held him when he wanted held, made love to him when he wanted to be made love to, pushed him higher when he asked.

He started the twitches on Day 230, the seizures waited until Day 247. He saw things, heard things starting Day 250. Sometimes he didn’t know who I was. Sometimes he thought I was someone else. Sometimes he thought I was trying to rape him, trying to rob him, trying to kidnap him, trying to murder him, trying to sell him Bibles.

One night he clawed at his skin, screeching there were bugs in his veins. I had to take him to the hospital and they had to bandage his arms while they assured him the bugs were gone, they had gotten them all.

“Am I beautiful, Seunghyun? Do you still love me?”

I cut his hair one night, the frail strands practically falling out at just the slightest touch. He cried and curled up in one of my hoodies as I simply snipped his hair with a pair of kitchen scissors. After he cried himself to sleep, I took a razor to my own hair. Shaved it all off, nothing left but peach fuzz.

He cried and rubbed my head and kissed it and told me how beautiful I was.

The next morning, he was cold.

He had taken some sleeping pills, some strong ones.

I didn’t have any tears left.

The funeral was very small. Jiyong wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. His sister said a few words, trying to keep her tears at bay. His mother said a few words, dabbing at her eyes and her voice trembling.

I said a few words. I didn’t cry.

When they lowered him into the ground, I didn’t cry.

When I drove home, the car smelling like his cologne and his stupid pop CD in the player and one of his sweaters in the backseat, I didn’t cry.

When I walked into our apartment and his hair was scattered across the kitchen floor, the scissors sitting on the table, the hoodie of mine draped over the back of the chair, I fell. I curled into a ball and cried harder than I have ever cried in my life.

My whole body hurt, my head hurt, I couldn’t cry anymore and yet still the tears came. My chest was empty, my stomach ached, my head was cold.

And a day later, I still couldn’t clean up his hair.

Comments: Just a few quick excuses; usually I would do a shitton of research on brain tumors for this. But, I wrote this while slightly intoxicated and in the midst of moving, so I didn't really have the time or energy to do it. Yes, lame excuse, but oh well. So if there are tons of mistakes about them, I apologize.
Also, this fic is part of Project Reconstruct together with lovelyable, with the theme of terminal illness.
X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top.

'Today, There are No Birds' (BIG BANG, TOP/GD) R

Sat, 01 Aug 2009 08:06:15 GMT

Title: Today, There are No Birds
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: R
Warnings: Yaoi, language, NON-CON
Word Count: 816
Synopsis: But today there is no singing, and that’s fucking weird. Jiyong always sings in the shower, even when he’s pissed, even when he’s depressed. Always. Without fail.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

He’s been in the shower for almost an hour now, and normally Seunghyun wouldn’t think anything of it. Jiyong normally takes at least 45 minutes to an hour in the shower.

But today there is no singing, and that’s fucking weird. Jiyong always sings in the shower, even when he’s pissed, even when he’s depressed. Always. Without fail.

And today it’s silent.

So after waiting a few more minutes, finishing up his level on his game, Seunghyun stands and shuffles over to the door. Knocking lightly, he gently pushed the bathroom door open to peek in. The bathroom lock had been broken months ago.

“Ji? Everything okay? Did you fall and hit your head?” he teased, smiling as he tries to peer through the warped glass of the shower door. There’s nothing. Did the guy forget to turn off the shower when he got out? Cursing quietly, Seunghyun stepped in and opened the door to reach over to turn off the shower...only to freeze, eyes locked on the curled figure in the corner of the shower.

He’s scrubbing at his thigh, but not scrubbing like normal. He’s hissing and he’s crying and he’s bleeding from scrubbing so hard, blood oozing from raw skin on his arms and chest and stomach and now his thigh. “J-Jiyong what are you doing?!” Seunghyun demanded, quickly climbing into the shower, not caring he was getting soaked as he crouched and tried to take the loofa from the man.

Jiyong screamed, his voice hoarse, pushing against Seunghyun’s chest with his hands and feet and sobbing so much harder. “Jiyong it’s me! Stop!” Seunghyun felt like crying himself as Jiyong just keeps screaming, keeps pushing, keeps clawing at the wall to try and get away. In the end, Seunghyun backs off, turns off the water, and sits on the bathroom floor to cry as he watches Jiyong wail.

~*~

He hasn’t spoken in three days. Not a word, not a peep, nothing. No ‘Seunghyun I don’t like peppers in my eggs, you know that.’ No ‘I hate this show, change it.’ Not even ‘I hate when you do that with your hair.’

And yes, Seunghyun has been attempting to push him to talk.

He asks the others, he asks his friends, he even calls and talks to Jiyong’s mom but nothing. ‘I haven’t hung out with him in days.’

And now Seunghyun is back to square one and he doesn’t like it. Doesn’t like watching Jiyong, the normally bouncy and hyper and bordering on annoying man sitting on the windowsill watching grass grow. Despite the fact it’s almost 90 degrees he has a blanket wrapped around him, his hair is stringy and not styled, his face isn’t made up.

It’s freaking Seunghyun out, and he doesn’t know what to do.

When Seunghyun tries to touch him, Jiyong cries. When Seunghyun tries to comfort him, Jiyong cries more.

~*~

They haven’t gone to work for almost a week now, and Taeyang is getting anxious. Seunghyun refuses to tell him that Jiyong can’t even get out of bed anymore, refuses to tell him that he’s been crying so bad he’s been puking up what food he eats. Jiyong has lost weight. Jiyong’s hair is beginning to fall out. Jiyong’s forearms and chest and thighs are covered in scratches, in friction burns, in bruises.

And still Seunghyun doesn’t know what to do.

He sleeps on the couch, he cooks meals and gently tries to cajole the man into eating, he stays as physically far away as he can manage.

Until one night when Jiyong hasn’t eaten all day, hasn’t moved from his position in bed against the wall and Seunghyun’s neck and back hurt from sleeping on the couch and he’s grouchy and tired and fed up he yells.

“What is wrong with you?! Don’t you trust me?! Why can’t you tell me anything, why won’t you talk to me, Ji?! We’re supposed to be partners, you’re supposed to let me take care of you, you’re supposed to tell me what’s wrong!”

Jiyong cried, curled against Seunghyun’s chest, until he puked again.

~*~

There’s nothing they can do, at this point. Jiyong has washed away all the evidence, has blocked out any type of memory that could help them. All he remembers are rough hands, a rough voice, bad Korean, dirty nails. Torn up Chuck Taylors and the smell of beer on his breath.

Jiyong tells what he knows to the police, to the therapist, to Seunghyun until he can’t talk anymore.

And even then, it doesn’t help.

He still doesn’t sing.

Comments: I read a couple rape fics that upset me, but not because they were rape fics, but because they were fucking unrealistic. Rape is not happy. Rape is not solved by sex with a boyfriend. No one enjoys rape and it made me angry that people wrote rape fics so lightly. snfkjsnfn That's my rant.
X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top.

'Have Your Cake and Eat It Too' (TOP/G-Dragon, BIG BANG) NC-17

Sat, 25 Jul 2009 10:23:45 GMT

Title: Have Your Cake and Eat It Too
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Yaoi, Language, Semi-Explicit Sex
Word Count: 396
Synopsis: A few drinks, a few dances with strangers, a few drunken jokes and it’s exactly midnight when the minx he’s been eying slides up to him, kohl-lined eyes staring up at him lustfully.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

There were three things in this world that Seunghyun loved most of all.

Boobs, ice cream, and Jiyong.

He got one everyday. He got one on the weekends. And he never got the other.

No no, this isn’t the time to get all wibbly and say ‘Oh Seunghyun I’m sorry...’

Because it was mostly Seunghyun’s fault. And no, he didn’t mind.

And so, on Saturday, it went like most Saturdays went. Ice cream for breakfast (and getting berated by the maknae), some morning cartoons, a light jog around a couple blocks with Taeyang. Then came the clubbing. It was a normal routine for them(all, now that Seungri was of age) to get ready around six. They’d meet in the living room at promptly 7:30 and head out at 7:45.

The same club every weekend; Ohoo, a swanky hip hop club downtown that was only a 20 minute taxi ride away. The bouncers know them by name (real names of course, and no one ever recognizes them, miraculously), and the bartenders know their ‘usual’.

A few drinks, a few dances with strangers, a few drunken jokes and it’s exactly midnight when the minx he’s been eying slides up to him, kohl-lined eyes staring up at him lustfully. “Let’s take this party somewhere else,” is whispered in his ear, and Seunghyun grins as he stands. The guys all catcall and jeer and throw bottle caps at them as Seunghyun flips them off.

The 20 minute taxi ride is full of hot lusty kisses and fumbling beneath thin layers of clothes, of little breaths and gasps in his ear and Seunghyun loves it. Seunghyun loves the way those gorgeous legs spread for him and loves the way those tiny hands pull at his hair and loves the way the coy thing stumbles and laughs on the stairs, smile bright and huge.

When they tumble into bed and clothes are removed and their bodies are moving together, Seunghyun really can’t bring himself to care about the lack of tits in his life as Jiyong is making delicious noises and arching and grinding their hips together and “Seunghyun, fuck, harder!”

Sometimes you can’t have your cake and eat it too.
But having your ice cream and eating it is even better, Seunghyun figures.

Comments: Jesus Christ Big Bang stop making me write you. I'm sorry for clogging your flists. Also, I actually did some research on the Seoul nightlife and Ohoo is an actual hip hop club. It looks nice. It has laser shows.
X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top.

'Laughing With Blue Lips' (TOP/G-Dragon, BIG BANG) R

Thu, 23 Jul 2009 10:19:24 GMT

Title: Laughing With Blue Lips
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: R
Warnings: Yaoi, Language, Self-mutilation, Eating disorder
Word Count: 640
Synopsis: His plump cheeks started to sink.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]
Comments: I'm putting my comments before the story this time around. THIS STORY HAS SELF-MUTILATION AND STRUGGLES WITH AN EATING DISORDER. No, I do not wish this upon Big Bang. No, I do not think that any of Big Bang actually struggles with these things. This is pure fiction. If you don't think you can be mature, please don't read.

Man I have a terrible feeling
That somethings gone awful wrong with the world
Is it something we made
Is it something we ate
Is it something we drank

The first thing Seunghyun noticed were the photos and mirrors.

The normally self-assured, self-confident, some might even go so far as to say narcissistic man had taken down all the pictures of himself around the apartment, and had covered the mirrors.

Not just covered them.

Painted over them, broad black swipes of paint, tiny splatters on the walls telling stories of desperation.

A week later, while in dance practice, Jiyong’s skinny jeans fell down around his ankles.

Skinny jeans that just a month ago had fit him fine, Seunghyun knew. They had had quite a time wrestling him out of them to get to the good parts.

And even though Jiyong was quick to yank them back up and ramble out a joke, Seunghyun swore he saw protruding hip bones, saw the beginnings of a rib cage.

Saw the beginning to the slow decay of the man he loved.

That night, Seunghyun couldn’t sleep, because Jiyong didn’t sleep. He could hear the low bass of the singer’s hiphop music, could hear him cursing every once and a while, could hear quiet thumps on the floor every once and a while. At one point (4:02 am), Seunghyun slipped out of bed and peeked in the cracked door to see Jiyong doing pushup after pushup, sweat dripping from his nose in a seemingly steady stream.

He was shirtless and his shoulderblades protruded like wings from his back.

Seunghyun promptly went and threw up in the bathroom.

So Seunghyun watched.

Jiyong ate a pear every two days, brushed his teeth eight times a day, chewed pack after pack of gum. He drank more bottles of water in a day then the rest of them combined. He pushed himself to the physical limits in practices, and even then during breaks, he was jogging in place or doing pullups on the doorframes. He wore baggy jeans, held up by a belt, and large hoodies.

His plump cheeks started to sink.

They hadn’t kissed in months. Seunghyun doesn’t try to sleep with Jiyong anymore, because he knows it won’t work. He sleeps in his own room, staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep as he hears Jiyong continuing his exercises, as he hears Jiyong crying, as he hears Jiyong screaming at himself.

Seunghyun can’t take much more.

One night, the shouts are more violent than usual. There’s the sound of liquid, of gurgling, and Seunghyun is up and out of bed and down the hall before he can take a breath.

The door isn’t locked.

Jiyong spends two weeks in the ICU, due to severe malnutrition and bloodloss. Seunghyun stays by his bed from morning until night, gripping his skinny hand so tight he’s sure it’s going to crumble.

Jiyong cries and claws at the bandages on his abdomen in sleep, lays in bed complacent and silent in waking.

He eats all the food on the trays that the nurses bring him. Fruits and vegetables and meats and bread, he eats every last crumb, staring at the wall ahead of him dejectedly while Seunghyun supports and murmurs what he supposes are comforting words and squeezes the man’s hand.

He never receives a response.

After his release, he’s gaining weight back. His cheeks are gaining their colour, his ribs aren’t protruding. He lets Seunghyun kiss and touch and fuck him. He eats his meals and sleeps during the night (Seunghyun knows, because he’s able to sleep with him, curled around the man’s smaller body and breathing his hair).

The mirrors are uncovered, the pictures placed back.

It’s progress.

It’s normalcy.

And then, one night while eating dinner, TaeYang makes a playful comment about Jiyong’s ‘chipmunk cheeks.’ They all laugh, even Jiyong, they all continue eating.

A week later the mirrors are covered.

X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top.

'Carpe Diem' (TOP/G-Dragon, BIGBANG) PG-13

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 10:56:28 GMT

Title: Carpe Diem
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Yaoi, language, threatening of stuffies
Word Count: 450
Synopsis: Amazing how JiYong could look so innocent standing there in his underwear while not only promising sex, but also threatening the well-being of one of SeungHyun’s favourite stuffed animal friends, along with SeungHyun himself. “You’re a sick bastard.”
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

“You’re impossible!”

A slight smirk, a twitch of those goddamned eyebrows, and JiYong let out a war cry. No one said no to him; no one.

Especially not his fucking boyfriend over something so...childish.

“SeungHyun I swear to god, I’m plucking them!” JiYong shouted, chasing after the fleeing man, tweezers in hand. “Quit being a fucking baby!”

Now if there was one thing that SeungHyun was not, it was a baby. SeungHyun was a man, dammit. A man who liked his so-called ‘caveman eyebrows’ in tact and unharmed. Vaulting over the couch and grabbing a throw pillow, SeungHyun whirled around and brandished it like a weapon. “Don’t come any closer, you psycho!”

“Get over here!” JiYong demanded, putting a hand on his hip and holding up the tweezers with raised eyebrows. As if that made him want to go over there. Of course the fact the younger man was in nothing but his little tightie-whities...well.

Power Rapper TOP would not give in.

SeungHyun opened his mouth to say something, when a devious glint appeared in JiYong’s eyes and he grinned like a cheshire cat, making SeungHyun pale. “If you don’t get over here, Mr. Stripes is getting it!” JiYong cackled, turning and racing down the hallway to SeungHyun’s room. The hyung listened in horror as JiYong let out a triumphant (aka evil) laugh, coming back out and bearing one of SeungHyun’s large stuffie pillows, tweezers to the animal’s neck.

“That’s...that’s playing dirty!”

“No baby, I’ll show you playing dirty. After I pluck those caterpillars on your forehead,” JiYong chirped, smiling.

Amazing how JiYong could look so innocent standing there in his underwear while not only promising sex, but also threatening the well-being of one of SeungHyun’s favourite stuffed animal friends, along with SeungHyun himself. “You’re a sick bastard.”

“I suppose. Now get in there and lay down or he gets it.” And to prove his point, there was a prick of the tweezers digging into the plush, and SeungHyun’s eyes slowly narrowed.

“You love Mr. Stripes as much as I do, Ji. Don’t think I’m falling for that.”

Oh, nope, there was stuffing coming out.

“Alright alright!” SeungHyun growled, straightening. Slowly edging around JiYong towards the younger’s bedroom, SeungHyun siezed the moment and thwapped the brunette across the face with the pillow with a malicious cackle before scuttling away down the hallway.

Of course, JiYong exacted his revenge later with not only tweezers, but also with teeth on rather sensitive spots on sensitive organs that teeth should not go near.

SeungHyun swears he did not cry.

Comments: Just a bit of silliness, really.
~~And because TOP's eyebrows make me twitch. And GD's, tbh, but not as bad as TOP's. You make millions, guys, pay to get them done.~~
X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top.

'Fucked Up Plans' (TOP/G-Dragon, BIGBANG) PG-13

Thu, 16 Jul 2009 12:12:08 GMT

Title: Fucked Up Plans
Pairing: TOP/G-Dragon
Fandom: BIGBANG
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: AU, yaoi, language
Word Count: 720
Synopsis: She’s dying, she says. She’s leaving, she says. She needs his help, she says.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own BIGBANG and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

She sees through him in an instant.

Girls are always more intuitive about shit like that; feelings. Needs.

Seunghyun doesn’t realize he needs Jiyong until it’s too late, and she smiles apologetically and attempts to cover the promise ring on her finger as Seunghyun fakes a congratulatory smile.

And then, she spills the plan. She confesses and breaks down into tears and even falls to the floor, clutching her face and trembling and Seunghyun hates her for all the world and wants her to cry, loves to see her cry, but he crouches and touches her shoulder and tells her empty words of condolences.

She’s dying, she says.

She’s leaving, she says.

She needs his help, she says.

For being intuitive, girls sure are fucked up sometimes.

~*~

Seunghyun hates the plan. He holds her hand and refuses to look at her. He brushes her hair back but refuses to touch her skin.

She hates the plan just as much.

It has to be done, she says.

Seunghyun is tempted to run, is tempted to go and hide...until there he is, standing there, watching them. Shock and disbelief and horror and sadness and anger are all running their course over his face in different ways that Seunghyun has learned to recognize over the years. The slight flare of nostrils, the twitch of his upper lip, the way one eyelid lowers a bit further than the other.

Just do the plan, she says.

And then she walks away, and Seunghyun is left to the repercussions.

~*~

Acting is easy, once you get into the part. You have to realize the motivations, the reasonings behind the character.

Acting is easy. Like a game.

Acting like he likes having his arm around her, like he likes having her body pressed to his, like he likes the look of utter anguish and betrayal on Jiyong’s face as he puts a dent in the bumper of his cadillac.

It’s easy to pretend his heart isn’t shattering as the boy turns his back.

“How is this helping me?” he whispers, eyes locked on the retreating man.

“Just follow the plan.”

“But I still don’t-”

“Just follow the plan.”

~*~

Her hair is falling out in larger and larger clumps.

One night, Seunghyun takes his razor to it, shaving it all off while she holds the promise ring and a picture of them, a small smile on her face.

They both cry.

~*~

Act 3, Scene 5.

Seunghyun goes through the motions. He holds her hand and strokes her head and smiles and cracks jokes, all the while aware of Taeyang’s eyes digging into his back, aware of Seungri and Daesung’s questioning glares.

How could he do this?

Steal his best friend’s girl?

Just stick to the plan, she says.

Standing, he makes an excuse to leave the room and stands by the windows, overlooking the city. He imagines he can see Jiyong among the crowds of people, a shining beacon.

When the doctors come to take her, Seunghyun grabs Taeyang’s arm and closes his eyes. “Call him.”

The show is coming to an end.

~*~

Ring in place, final lines spoken. Seunghyun turns, tucking his hands into his pockets, slowly moving down the hallway. He flinches as he hears the pained cry, the loud sobs, the pleading.

His heart is cracking, is shattering, is exploding.

Show Finis.

~*~

“It was a lie.”

Seunghyun looks up from his book, eyes searching out the man’s familiar form in the darkness. It’s the first time he’s been out of his room in weeks.

“What?”

“You. You lied. You both were lying.”

His tone isn’t angry, isn’t accusatory. Simply truthful. Stating a fact.

“What are y-”

“Don’t lie to me anymore.”

He shifts, moving a few steps across the carpet.

“You’re a stupid bastard.” Tiny hands are touching his cheeks, his hair, his jaw. Tiny hands Seunghyun has wanted for years. Tiny hands that he had never thought he would have. “Why’d you never tell me?”

“It wasn’t in the plan.”

Simple enough, truthful enough. When Jiyong sits on his lap, curls against his chest, falls asleep in his arms, Seunghyun closes his eyes and smiles and presses tiny kisses to the other’s cheek and forehead.

Just stick to the plan, she says.

Comments: First BIGBANG fic. :x Based off the HaruHaru MV.
X-Posted to bigbang_fanfic & g_top

'Kiss Me' (Reita/Ruki, the GazettE) PG-13

Sat, 13 Jun 2009 06:58:15 GMT

Title: Kiss Me
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Yaoi, implied sexual situations
Word Count: 841
Synopsis: "Have you ever kissed a boy?"
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

“Have you ever kissed a boy?”

The question is random, is odd, is spoken in silence that always comes before sleep. Akira sits up in the dark, searching the other boy out on the floor. “What?”

“Have you ever kissed a boy?” Takanori repeats, sitting up on his elbows and peering at Akira through the darkness. Even in the murky purple, Akira can feel those dark eyes staring into his face.

“...N-No...Why?” What a silly question; had Akira ever kissed a boy. Akira was the epitome of boyhood with his shaved head and tanned skin and Luna Sea t-shirts underneath his school uniforms. Akira was captain of the soccer team and worked at a music store and played bass guitar. Akira liked girls. Akira had had sex with girls. And Takanori...Takanori was Takanori. Plain and simple. His hair was long enough to have the teachers giving him dirty glares, but short enough to not have to have it cut. His tie was always askew and his pants were always holey, his fingernails always painted and always a curious gleam to his lips that wasn’t natural. He cursed and he spat and he drank from the milk carton, but he read fashion magazines and color-coded his room.

“Because I want to kiss you.”

Akira jerks, head snapping up to where his gaze had strayed to a callous on his hand. “What?”

Takanori wanted to what?

“I want to kiss you,” Takanori repeats slowly, and Akira just then realizes he’s moving, crawling towards the bed. “I’ve wanted to kiss you,” he explains, voice quiet. Akira isn’t sure what to say. “Have you ever thought about it?”

Of course Akira had thought about it. Hell, he thought about it more than anything. But not just kissing a boy. No. It was kissing those plush lips, it was having those almond eyes stare into his, it was having those child’s hands on his body.

It was his best friend.

Takanori’s hands are on his fabric-covered thighs, his face is close. Lips only a breath away...

“No,” Akira grunts, pushing Takanori away. “Don’t be a fag.”

Takanori is silent as he retreats to his sleeping bag.

~*~

“Have you ever kissed a guy?”

The question is random, is odd, is spoken in silence that always comes after drinking a bit too much. Akira looks up from examining his shoe, bleary eyes working to focus on Takanori’s face. “What?”

“Have you ever kissed a guy?” Takanori repeats, leaning back against the wall, head lolling ever so slightly. His lips are a luscious red from being pressed against the beer bottle, his cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“No,” Akira says simply, followed by a hiccup. “Have you?”

“Yes,” Takanori says even more simply, head tipping back to look at the ceiling. “I’ve had sex with guys.”

And for some reason, it doesn’t shock Akira.

If anything, he feels a tightening in his chest and stomach he can’t quite explain.

He passes it off as indigestion.

“How was it?”

“Alright,” Takanori grunts, shrugging. “I was thinking of someone else the entire time, so...”

“Oh?” Akira had done that. Having a girl moaning and writhing underneath him, and he had imagined actresses, another girl at school, Takanori, singers...

“Yeah.”

“Who were you thinking of?”

“J.”

“Good choice.”

“I think so...What about you? Ever imagined a man while having sex with a girl?”

“No,” Akira grunts, turning his face away. “Don’t be a fag.”

~*~

“Have you ever kissed a man?”

The question is random, is odd, is spoken in silence that always comes when it’s just the two of them lately. Standing outside the recording studio, cigarettes in hand, Reita turns to regard his comrade with a look akin to boredom. “What?”

This was getting old.

“Have you ever kissed a man?” Ruki repeats, seeming not to really care about his question at all as he examines the end of his cigarette. Flicks some ash off. Tucks his hand into the pocket of his fashionably tight jeans.

But Reita can tell he cares. Can tell by the way his foot is twitching ever so slightly against the wall, by the way his veins are standing out in his neck, by the way his eyes keep twitching towards him. Reita feigns disinterest as well.

“No,” he murmurs. A lie. “Have you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

The question shocks him, cigarette tumbling from his fingers as Ruki looks up, eyes wide. His lips are parted in that way that photographers always called mysteriously sexy and his cheeks are flushed and it’s brilliant. It’s perfect.

Reita drops his cigarette too, turns and reaches up and is cupping those brilliant cheeks.

“Have you ever wanted to kiss me?”

The question isn’t random, isn’t odd, is spoken against Reita’s cheek and it’s beautiful and when Reita smiles, he feels Ruki’s lips curl up in a smile too.

“Yes.”

“Then kiss me.”

Comments: For themindshit, who will always be the Ruki to my Reita. <3

X-Posted to _quaintnotion and jrockyaoi

'Monotonous' (No pairing, the GazettE) G

Tue, 09 Jun 2009 22:22:28 GMT

Title: Monotonous
Pairing: None
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Theme: 15memories, #14 Trophy
Word Count: 245
Synopsis: “Typical Japanese,” Akira grunted, puffing on his cigarette. “Everyone has to be the fuckin’ same.”
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

The game was decent. They lost, of course. The other team had been undefeated, and why they ended up playing each other neither team was sure. But it was alright, because Kouyou and Akira still had their fill of pocky and apple slices and juice before being sent out to get grass stains in their uniforms and scraped knees and on one occasion, a cleat to the head. Akira had almost had to go to the hospital with the force of that one.

But now here they sat, the only two on their team to actually try, and the only thing they had to show for it was ruined uniforms, bruised egos, and tiny plastic trophies.

Kouyou examined his closely, squinting his eyes and pushing his glasses up his nose. “The kid has no face,” he pointed out, holding out the trophy and pointing to the figurine’s misshapen face.

“Typical Japanese,” Akira grunted, puffing on his cigarette. “Everyone has to be the fuckin’ same.” Glaring at his piece of plastic, dropped to the pavement carelessly, he pushed at it with his sneakered foot and snorted. “We should’ve creamed them, Ko.”

“We’ll get on a good team in high school,” Kouyou said optimistically, setting his trophy down and fidgeting with his glasses.

“Yeah. Become soccer stars,” Akira laughed. Picking up his trophy, he smiled and pressed his cigarette into the figurine’s face. “Let’s become famous together, Kouyou. Let’s get out of this typical monotonous life.”

“Deal.”

'Stalker' (Ruki/?, the GazettE) G

Tue, 19 May 2009 08:23:20 GMT

Title: Stalker
Pairing: Ruki/?
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count: 360
Synopsis: His name is Takanori. I at least knew that much, because he had left his nametag on one night on accident. Or maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe he was silently screaming ‘Come talk to me!’
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

He gets on the train everyday at the 6:45 Ginza stop, and gets off at the 7:30 Kanegawa stop.

I’ve never had the courage to talk to him, of course. Once I stood next to him, when the train was unusually crowded (later on, I found out there had been some sort of festival at the shrine in Shinjuku). I saw the roots of his hair were actually a soft mahogany, like the bark of an old tree. His eyes, beneath the crazy coloured contacts, were the colour of honey. His skin was the texture of silk. He smelled of vanilla and lavendar.

His name is Takanori. I at least knew that much, because he had left his nametag on one night on accident. Or maybe it wasn’t an accident. Maybe he was silently screaming ‘Come talk to me!’

Or maybe I’m just being a delusional stalker.

That’s what I’d be considered, right?

I know he works at the jewelry shop in Ginza. Harugin. I’m pretty sure he’s a designer; one night a man knocked him over and made him spill his bag, and a bunch of papers with ring and necklace designs fell out.

I didn’t help him pick his things up, though.

I grip the handle tighter as the Ginza station nears. I can already see him standing on the platform, fiddling with a black mp3 player and apparently muttering to himself. He looks up as the train stops and I feel my heart jump into my throat as his eyes sweep over me. Over, not through like usual.

He walks on and it’s almost as if he’s magentized, has something in mind, as he immediately moves towards me and sits down in the sit next to me. “Hi,” he greets with a smile, a bright smile that shows off perfect white teeth and makes my heart flutter.

His voice is like nails and shards of glass encased in silk. I shudder.

“Hello.”

“I notice you’ve been watching me. I’m Takanori.”

And when he holds out his hand, I know something is going right.

Comments: Originally written as a character sketch. I wrote this with a narrator in mind, but I'm curious; who do you think is narrating?

X-posted to gazette_yaoi, jrockyaoi, kaix_xkai, ruki_x_uruha, & rukitoaoi_nil.

'For Lack of Better Seating' (Kaoru/Kyo, Dir en grey) G

Tue, 14 Apr 2009 18:33:31 GMT

Title: For Lack of Better Seating
Pairing: Kaoru/Kyo
Fandom: Dir en grey
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Word Count: 397
Synopsis: Long, boring, all of them trapped in a small room and waiting until their turn in the tiny box would come. Not only that, but for some reason that day there was a shortage of chairs; something about the company having a board meeting and needing the fold-outs.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own Dir en grey and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

Recording was the bane of their existence.

Long, boring, all of them trapped in a small room and waiting until their turn in the tiny box would come. Not only that, but for some reason that day there was a shortage of chairs; something about the company having a board meeting and needing the fold-outs.

So when Kyo shuffled out of the recording box, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket and took a seat on the only available one in the room.

Kaoru’s lap.

Immediately, the other three member’s eyebrows shot up, expecting an angry outburst or a cold rejection or something from their usually stoic Leader-sama...but nothing came. Kaoru simply sat back against the couch, arms crossed, face even with his sunglasses on, as if nothing was out of place. As if Kyo sat on his lap on a daily basis.

Which, as the seconds ticked by, the others realized he probably did.

“Your turn, Toshiya,” Kaoru said cooly, head turning only slightly to signify he was staring at the lanky bassist through his dark lenses.

“O-Oh. Yeah.” Slowly standing, not bothering to hide the fact he was gawking at the two, he picked up his bass and shuffled slowly into the recording box, not taking his eyes off the couple (was that what they were, a couple?) for even a second.

“So...when did this happen?” Die asked casually, gesturing between the two. No one commented on the fact that Kyo was still perched on Kaoru, despite the fact that Toshiya’s spot on the couch had just been vacated. “I mean. I thought you two were...”

“Straight?” Kaoru supplied after Die failed to finish his sentence. “Does it bother you?”

“No, I’m just curious.”

“A few years.” Die’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head as Shinya made a small sound of shock, eyes lifting from the magazine on his lap. Kyo and Kaoru remained calm, the vocalist picking some imaginary lint from his pants while Kaoru simply sat.

“Years?” Die repeated. “Years? Like all those times you two would disappear or would demand a hotel room together or...”

“Indeed.”

Die sat back with a huff, eyes wide, while Shinya watched them both for a small moment before turning back to his magazine. Toshiya still blatantly stared through the glass wall.

For uruduck. ♥

'Shopping Spree' (Aoi/Kai, the GazettE) PG

Wed, 08 Apr 2009 19:19:37 GMT

Title: Shopping Spree
Author: bitterwhitejam
Pairing: Aoi/Kai
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cotton candy fluff
Theme: 15memories, #12 Shopping Spree
Word Count: 222
Synopsis: Maybe it was the big brown puppy eyes that always won him over. Or maybe the dimples and the heart-melting smile when he said ‘yes’ that always came. Or maybe it’s the fact that, really? Aoi isn’t being tortured as much as he lets on.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

Aoi wasn’t sure why he had agreed to this.

Maybe it was the big brown puppy eyes that always won him over. Or maybe the dimples and the heart-melting smile when he said ‘yes’ that always came.

Or maybe it’s the fact that, really? Aoi isn’t being tortured as much as he lets on.

Trailing behind the drummer, arms laden with shopping bags, he sighed dramatically and whined. “Kai, aren’t we almost done? I think you’ve bought out Custom Culture...”

He hid his smile at Kai’s exasperated huff, the drummer whirling around to prod a finger in his chest accusingly. “If you didn’t want to come, why’d you say yes?” he demanded, putting his fists on his hips and pouting angrily.

The guitarist brushed off the question, managing to wrestle one of his hands free to take Kai’s, wrapping his fingers around the brunette’s calloused ones. “There’s a cool jewelry shop around the corner that Ruki showed me last week, I think you’ll like it.”

“But you aren’t hav-” but Kai was cut off with a brief kiss, Aoi smiling against his mouth before pulling away. Blinking owlishly, Kai lifted his free hand to rest against his lips before he was smiling as well.

Aoi knew he’d agree again, if it came down to it.

'Butterflies' (Aoi/Kai, the GazettE) PG

Sat, 28 Feb 2009 03:09:28 GMT

Title: Butterflies
Author: bitterwhitejam
Pairing: Aoi/Kai
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: PG
Warnings: Suggestive themes
Theme: 15memories, #13 Body Paint
Synopsis: “Butterflies?” he asks slowly, a small smile curling his lips. Immediately Kai is on the defense, frowning and flipping the guitarist the bird.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you. Also, scans from gazette_daily and rawkstarr23.]

When Kai comes home with the butterflies painted on his face, Aoi just stares.

Stares, because it’s weird.

Stares, because it’s beautiful.

“What?” Kai asks slowly, blinking and looking away nervously. He’s fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, chewing on his lip - he never realizes how beautiful he is, ever.

“Butterflies?” he asks slowly, a small smile curling his lips. Immediately Kai is on the defense, frowning and flipping the guitarist the bird. “I think they’re beautiful.”

“...really?”

“Really.” Standing, Aoi wraps his arms around Kai’s waist and presses a kiss to the drummer’s neck, smiling softly. “So...are there butterflies anyplace else?” he asks, voice a low purr. Kai laughs and rolls his eyes, large hands resting on Aoi’s arms. “Let’s draw some then,” the older man whispers. Before Kai can protest, Aoi is pushing him into the bedroom, closing the door quietly.

X-posted to 15memories, gazette_yaoi, jrockyaoi, kaix_xkai, kaixaoi.

'Use Your Love' (Aoi/Kai, the GazettE) PG - NC-17

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 14:23:36 GMT

Title: Use Your Love
Pairing: Aoi/Kai
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: Ranging from PG - NC-17
Warnings: Language, explicit sex
Theme: 10 Songs meme
Synopsis: "You're my drug," he breathed against full, plush lips. "I never want to be taken away from you. You make me fly."
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

1. Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them.

1) Everytime We Touch by Cascada
Rating: NC-17

Aoi was gasping, was panting, was arching into his hand and it was fascinating.

Absolutely fascniating.

The way Aoi's breath caught and his eyelids fluttered as Kai's fingers ran over his bellyring, the way he'd squeal when they ran over his sides, the way he'd moan when they ran over his hipbones.

You're a drug.

Kai pushed into him, making Aoi gasp and thrash and oh god.

Kai bent down, practically bending himself in double, to kiss Aoi.

"You're my drug," he breathed against full, plush lips. "I never want to be taken away from you. You make me fly."

Aoi simply groans against his lips and clutches at his shoulderblades and arches and screams Kai's name when he finally crashes over the proverbial edge.

"I love you," they both whisper in unison and smile.

2) Yummy Down On This by Bloodhound Gang
Rating: NC-17

"Suck it," he hisses, hand gripping his own cock and Kai moans. "That's it," Aoi hisses as Kai leans forward and puts his mouth to better use than rambling.

Kai loves when Aoi's head falls back, when his eyes close, when his mouth opens and he's whispering dirty things and he's losing control of his hips. Kai loves it when Aoi's hand twists in his hair and he's fucking the drummer's mouth.

Kai hums quietly, tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing and "Fuck yesssss. Fucking slut."

His head is bobbing faster than he could possibly fathom, the only sounds in the tiny broom closet those of their flesh and Aoi's pleasure and it's amazing.

When Aoi cums, Kai swallows it all eagerly, smiling around his mouthful. He pulls away and licks his lips free of any traces, bouncing slightly on his knees, knowing he's been a good boy and wanting his treat that he knows is coming.

3) 2Drunk 2Drive by BrokenCyde
Rating: NC-17

Aoi is already trashed by the time Kai gets there, his face flushed and his laughter so loud. Kai sighs and weaves through the throng of people, taking Aoi by the elbow. "Yutakakakakaka~" Aoi squeals, giggling and throwing his arms around Kai's neck. "Come drink with me!"

"Aoi I think you've had enough..." Kai says slowly, wrapping an arm around Aoi's waist to keep him upright. "Why don't we just go home?"

"Can I fuck you~?" Aoi giggles loudly, licking a long strip along Kai's jaw, and the drummer sighs as several people grin at them.

"Let's just go."

Aoi is not easy to get home, of course, weaving and shouting and chasing after people. When Kai finally manages to get Aoi to crawl (literally) into the apartment, he's hopeful that his night is done and he can just crawl into bed and sleep - but that's not what Aoi has planned.

"Sugar, carry me to bed~" Aoi whines, sprawled on the floor. The drummer sighs and carries him - again, literally - and places him in bed.

But before he can get comfortable on his own side, Aoi is on top of him with his pants off (when did he take them off?) and his cock, hard already, is in Kai's face. "Suck it."

4) Did It Hurt? by nevershoutnever!
Rating: PG

"Did it hurt?"

Aoi blinks, looking up from his guitar to peer at the other. "Huh?"

"Did it hurt?" Kai repeated, biting his lip nervously as he fidgets. Aoi can't help but smile.

"Not too bad. Just sort of a pressure...sting...then just sore." Pulling at his lipring, he nodded. "Same with them all, really..."

"That's not what I meant." Kai looks away, flushing. Blinking, Aoi cocks his head in confusion. "I meant...falling from heaven."

It's the cheesiest line Aoi's ever heard of, but it makes him smile.

5) Issues by Mindless Self Indulgence
Rating: R

"Kaiiii...I'm hornyyyy..."

"Go 'way, Aoi," the drummer grumbles, rolling over to bury his face deeper into the pillow. "It's the middle of the night."

"It's morning now, let's have morning sex. Please?" Moulding himself to Kai's back, Aoi nibbles at the drummer's ear and whines. "C'mon, please? You can just lay there, you don't have to do any work."

"Aoi. Seriously. I'm exhausted. Please."

"Fine, I'll go fuck Ruki!" Aoi huffs, rolling out of bed and yanking on his underwear. "Or Uruha! Or Reita, even! I bet they'll fuck me!"

"Aoi, come back to bed. I'll put out later."

6) Into the Groove by Medic Droid
Rating: PG

Aoi's hips rock and sway, arms raised above his head and he's smiling with his eyes closed and Kai suddenly can't breathe. "Dance with me," Aoi breathes, eyes opening to stare darkly at the brunette. One heavily-ringed hand is held out for him - only for him.

"Aoi you know I don't-"

"Get up on your feet." Slowly, Kai stands, his knees feeling wobbly. He can feel eyes on them, on Aoi, because damn he's beautiful and it's making Kai nervous. "Just let the music set you free."

7) I'm Done by Pussycat Dolls
Rating: PG-13

The snow is catching on his eyelashes, making his eyes glow.

Aoi can't function when he smiles.

"I don't want to fall in love."

"Neither do I."

"Glad we agree. Now fuck me."

Gloved hands are cupping his cheeks, thin lips curling into a smile as he says something and laughs. Tossing his head back, his brown hair seems to glow in the streetlight and it's all Aoi can do not to melt into the other man.

"Let's make snow angels," Kai whispers, a breath against Aoi's lips, before he's pulling away and laughing like a small child. Gloved fingers entwined, Kai pulls the guitarist over to the expanse of untouched snow.

Kai throws himself down, sprawling his limbs out and flailing them with a laugh, looking up at Aoi with glittering eyes.

"I think I'm falling in love with you..."

"I'm not with you."

"I know. I just wanted you to know."

Smiling softly, Aoi plops down into the snow as well, beginning to flail his arms. Kai's laugh is infectious, taking over his lungs and his face.

"Thank you for not believing me," Aoi breathed, rolling over to kiss Kai.

Smiling, Kai nods. "You're welcome.

8) Cumdumpster by Jack Off Jill
Rating: R

"Slut."

A slap, leaving his cheek red and stinging. Tears well in his eyes as he looks away, shame showing on his face.

"Cunt."

His hair is yanked, head jerked back to look up at the angry face.

"Was he good, Yuu? Did he fuck you good and hard?"

A jerk and Aoi is hissing, eyes squeezing shut. "Yes," he whispers.

"Good. Because now I'm going to fuck you, and it's not going to be good. Unzip my pants."

And Aoi does as told, hands trembling.

9) Breathe In by Frou Frou
Rating: PG-13

"I'm so spot on."

He's grinning, his lone dimple digging into his cheek, and it makes Aoi glare harder.

"Shut the fuck up."

"No," Kai giggles, reaching over to pull Aoi a bit closer. "I want to gloat. A lot."

Aoi tries to stand but Kai wrestles him back down with a laugh. "What part of no don't you understand? I've told you!"

"You're lying," Kai whispers. "You're lying through your teeth."

Aoi growls, trying to think of something to say - anything to get him out of this room. But Kai is smiling at him and he can feel his resolve wavering. "I have to be somewhere."

"No you don't," Kai teases, pinching the guitarist's stomach. "I love you."

"Stop it."

"I love you, Aoi."

Sloppy kisses are pressed to his cheek and throat, making him gasp and try to push the brunette away.

"I love you and you love me, just admit it!"

"I don't, get off me!"

"Say it!"

And Aoi's being tickled, making him roar with laughter and writhe and oh when lips are pressed against his own and he's melting. "...I love you, boy. I can't help but love you."

10) I'm Your Favourite Drug by Porcelain and the Tramps
Rating: NC-17

"Be my heroin."

Aoi is smirking, body writhing slowly against the drummer's as he fucks him. "That's right. Suck me up."

Nails are sinking into Kai's hips, tongue tracing the shell of his ear. "Aoi..."

"Beg me. Get on your knees and beg."

Kai does as told, sliding off the bed and onto his knees and he's looking up at Aoi with those huge doe eyes, his mouth already open. "Please, Aoi."

"'Please, Aoi' what?" the guitarist hisses, gripping Kai's hair tightly. "Please what?"

"Let me suck you off, please."

"Are you addicted to me?"

"Yes, yes, yes," Kai breathes over and over, a mantra, his eyes half-lidded. And he groans when Aoi fucks his mouth.

X-Posted to gazette_yaoi, jrockyaoi, kaix_xkai, and kaixaoi.

'Why' (Reita/OFC; Reita/Ruki, the GazettE) PG-13

Sun, 28 Dec 2008 12:34:07 GMT

Title: Why
Author: bitterwhitejam
Pairing: Reita/OFC; Reita/Ruki
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Angst, mentioned character death
Word Count:
Synopsis: "No, I don't understand! You have to explain things to me, Akira! You have to let me know what you're thinking! I can't read your goddamn mind!"
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE, or Secondhand Serenade and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

The buttons on my phone are worn thin
I don't think that I knew the chaos I was getting in
But I've broken all my promises to you
I've broken all my promises to you

Why do you do this to me?
Why do you do this so easily?
You make it hard to smile because
You make it hard to breathe
Why do you do this to me?

Reita can hear Him in the next room and it's breaking his heart, making his chest ache and his ribs want to cave in.

Because it's his fault, of course.

It's all his fault.

So he sits in his empty hotel room, listening to the sounds of Ruki's desperate sobs, trying to ignore them as he drowns himself in a bottle of cheap whiskey.

"Stop it," he whispers, closing his eyes. "Please stop it. You don't understand."

"No, I don't understand! You have to explain things to me, Akira! You have to let me know what you're thinking! I can't read your goddamn mind!"

He takes another burning swallow, wincing as it hisses all the way down his throat and Ruki lets out a louder sob. He's not meaning to, Reita knows. Ruki was always like that. Not wanting to get in people's way, not wanting to push Himself on them.

But at the same time, He had been Reita's world since the get-go.

"Why are you doing this?! I thought you were happy!"
"I was happy. But not anymore. Okay? She makes me happier."

A cheap lie.

A phrasing that's a single tear
Is harder than I ever feared
And you were left feeling so alone
Because these days aren't easy
Like they have been once before
These days aren't easy anymore

Why do you do this to me?
Why do you do this so easily?
You make it hard to smile because
You make it hard to breathe
Why do you do this to me?
To me, to me, to me...

He's standing behind Reita, silent, His tuxedo pristine and clean. His hair was black, was cut short, His piercings and makeup low-key for the day.

For Reita's day.

She's smiling, so happy, so bright as her father gives her away to him, as their hands clasp together. Reita smiles back, clasps her hand tightly, goes through the motions.

The whole time, he's acutely aware of the tiny man behind him.

At the reception, his eyes stay trained on the younger man. He watches Him mingle, watches Him drink, watches Him dance. During the best man's speech, Reita wants to cry as Ruki retells funny stories between them, like the time Reita got so drunk Ruki had to carry him home and through the bedroom window. Reita smiles and laughs and holds her hand beneath the table, even though he's imagining it's His.

I should've known this wasn't real
And fought it off and fought to feel
What matters most? Everything
That you feel while listening to every word that I sing
I promise you I will bring you home
I will bring you home

Why do you do this to me?
Why do you do this so easily?
You make it hard to smile because
You make it hard to breathe
Why do you do this to me?

He's smiling, cradling the tiny bundle of blankets and flesh and hair in his arms. A tiny hand grips his large thumb and tiny eyes stare into his own.

She knows he's a fake.

Reita smiles and kisses his wife, kisses her forehead and lips and cheeks and helps her cradle the baby and smiles at the camera as He snaps a picture. He smiles and says how happy he is, how proud, how fortunate, when really his chest is aching and he wants that baby to be Theirs and not theirs.

When he calls Him, asking to babysit, he can hear the hesitation in His voice. "You don't have to, it's just..."

"I'll watch her, it's not a problem."

When Reita drops her off at His house, He's sitting outside with His dog, staring up at the sky.

"Do you think we would've have a future together?" He asks, and it makes Reita pause.

"No," he says simply. "Here's her diaper bag. I'll be back in a few hours."

Ruki says nothing, simply takes her into His arms and continues to stare at the sky.

Reita leaves quickly, drives away as fast possible to hide the tears of shame from Him.

Why do you do this to me?
Why do you do this so easily?
You make it hard to smile because
You make it hard to breathe
Why do you do this to me?
To me, to me, to me...

She's standing at His door, holding the Letter in her hands. "Dad would've wanted you to have this," she said quietly, handing it to Him.

"Do you want to come in?" He asked quietly, gesturing inside.

She shook her head, biting her lip. "I better get back. Mom needs me. I'll talk to you later, Uncle Taka." She gave him a quick hug before walking back to her car.

Ruki stared at the letter, frowning.

Takanori.

I realize I'm probably the last person you'd like to talk to, of which I understand.

I did a lot of horrible things to you, and I'm sorry.

I want to confess my sins, now, to you.

I never wanted Us to end. I imagined you standing at that alter instead of her. I imagined you in her place every moment of every day of every year of our marriage.

Would we have had a future together? I could only dream, only imagine.

I love you, Matsumoto Takanori, and I forever will.

Goodbye.

X-posted to _quaintnotion and jrockyaoi.

Lyrics belong to Secondhand Serenade.

15memories Table

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 21:35:50 GMT

1. Laugh	2. Date	3. Night alone together	4. Valentine	5. Awkward moment
6. Hug	7. Trip	8. Kiss	9. Sunrise or Sunset	10. Make-up kit
11. Memorable Moment	12. Shopping Spree	13. Body Paint	14. Trophy	15. Shower or bath

'Perfect Imperfections' (the GazettE, Reita/Ruki) PG

Fri, 26 Dec 2008 08:50:52 GMT

Title: Perfect Imperfections
Author: bitterwhitejam
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Fandom: the GazettE
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cotton candy fluff
Word Count: 233
Synopsis: “I see nothing wrong with having a mole on your face,” Reita muttered, shaking his bangs over his own. “Besides, it’s your imperfections that make you beautiful, Ruki.”
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

“It’s disgusting.”

Reita looks up from his videogame, regarding the tiny man curiously. “What?”

“This. It’s gross. Absolutely appalling. I don’t see why I just can’t get it removed.”

“Because you’d have a huge scar on your face,” Reita sighed simply, turning back to his game. Same old complaints, every morning.

“But a scar is easier to cover up than…this!” Ruki growled, waving his foundation sponge at his chin with disdain. “I have them all over. Having one on my face is just…God!” he sighed dramatically and began to scrub at his face again, intent on covering the mole.

“I see nothing wrong with having a mole on your face,” Reita muttered, shaking his bangs over his own. “Besides, it’s your imperfections that make you beautiful, Ruki.”

“You say that because you’re perfect,” Ruki muttered, rolling his eyes.

Reita snorted, looking up for a second time to grin at the vocalist. “Perfect?” he teased, lifting his bangs to point to his own mole next to his eye. “Aren’t you being a little hypocritical?”

The younger man pouted, fiddling with an eyeshadow brush as he shrugged. “It suits you.”

“Yours suits you too,” Reita laughed, reaching out to pull Ruki down onto his lap. “I like it,” he said simply. Laying a gently kiss on the raised bit of flesh on Ruki’s chin, the vocalist flushed and nodded.

“A scar would look ugly anyway.”

Dedicated to mellokiss, for staying up all night supplying me with pictures of Ruki's mole and listening to my fangirling. <3

'Who'd Of Known' (SID, Aki/Shinji) PG

Mon, 22 Dec 2008 06:13:28 GMT

Title: Who'd Of Known
Author: bitterwhitejam
Pairing: Aki/Shinji
Fandom: SID
Rating: PG
Warnings: Cotton candy fluff
Word Count: 671
Synopsis: The bassist glanced over, eyes roving over the other’s body as he stretched and yawned, not noticing the gaze. Aki felt his breath catch.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own SID and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

“I’m tired, Aki. I’m heading to bed.”

The bassist glanced over, eyes roving over the other’s body as he stretched and yawned, not noticing the gaze. Aki felt his breath catch.

Shinji shuffled over to the bathroom, closing the door quietly. When Aki heard the lock click he slipped off the couch and padded into the guitarist’s bedroom. With a soft smile, he crawled underneath the covers and snuggled into one of the pillows – it smelled strongly of herbal shampoo and cigarettes and ramen and Shinji.

When the toilet flushed, Aki immediately closed his eyes and started to breathe deeper, listening closely to Shinji’s footsteps. “Aki?” the other called quietly, questioningly, and the bassist smiled softly as he heard Shinji mumbling to himself and shut off the TV. Coming into the room, he heard the other pause before letting out a soft sigh.

Let me stay, let me stay…

Without a word, Shinji slid under the covers and almost immediately fell asleep.

~

When Aki awoke, Shinji was curled against his back, snoring quietly. With a grin, the bassist turned and simply watched the other sleep, the morning light making his pale flesh glow.

“Weather said it’d be nice today,” Shinji murmured and Aki blinked, startled. Cracking an eye open, the taller man smiled softly and wrapped an arm around Aki’s waist, pulling him closer. “We should…do something. Since it’s our day off.”

“Go to a park?” Aki murmured quietly, trying not to breathe in Shinji’s face. Aki’s morning breath was brutal.

“Like that.” Shinji sat up and scratched his head, smiling softly. “Make me breakfast?”

“I don’t cook, you kn-“ Before he could finish, he found lips pressed against his own. The kiss was soft, was innocent, was reeking of both of their morning breaths and was awkward because of their angles…but it was still the most fantastic kiss Aki had ever had and it made his toes curl in delight. When Shinji pulled away and stood, starting to make the bed, Aki smiled. “I’ll make natto.”

~

Mao and Yuuya were arguing quite loudly, drowning each other out in the café as they flailed and almost sent a waitress careening onto a neighboring table. Shinji stood to help the woman up, apologizing and bowing incessantly as she sent glares to the two oblivious men. Aki simply grinned.

“We should go to the zoo!” Mao whined, slapping his hand down on the table.

“The amusement park!” Yuuya wailed louder, flapping his arms and hitting himself in the face.

“But Aki and I want to see the hippos!” Mao shrieked, pointing over to the mentioned man. Aki said nothing as Yuuya snorted and snapped something about Aki wanting to ride rollercoasters. The bassist rolled his eyes and sipped at his frappucino.

“What do you want to do?” Shinji asked curiously, eyes boring into Aki’s face. The bassist smiled and shrugged. “Do you want a muffin, baby?”

That made both of them pause, staring at each other in shock. Shinji opened his mouth, cheeks flushing. Aki grinned, eyes twinkling as he reached over to rest his hand over the guitarist’s. “Yes. Blueberry.”

Shinji was still blushing but smiled as he stood, squeezing Aki’s hand, before moving to the counter.

~

It was odd, really. Walking through the park, hand-in-hand, talking about nothing in particular. The weather, music, the little kids screaming in the background, the new TV show they had been watching non-stop…

Shinji was rambling on about something having to do with his guitar when Aki reached up and pulled him down for a kiss, soft and languid and perfect. Shinji blushed but smiled when they pulled apart. Adjusting his glasses, he blinked and shifted. “What was that for?” he asked quietly but teasingly.

“Just because.”

“Oh.” Shinji looked away for a moment, watching a little boy chase a little girl around the playground. “Mind if we do it again?”

Aki smiled and reached up, fingers gently threading through Shinji’s dark locks as he pulled him down again. “Not at all.”

X-posted to jrockyaoi.

'Will You Follow Me Home' (the Gazette, Reita/Ruki) PG-13

Mon, 22 Dec 2008 05:41:30 GMT

Title: Will You Follow Me Home
Author: bitterwhitejam
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Fandom: the Gazette
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Mentions of sex
Word Count: 2,720
Synopsis: You’re mine, Matsumoto. Only I can touch you.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

Whenever Ruki turned his head, the pain was there, sharp and biting and blissful and a stark reminder.

You’re mine, Matsumoto. Only I can touch you.

He could practically hear the voice, the deep, sultry purr of it, the undertone of anger and purebred jealousy, could almost feel the brush of lips against his ear and the press of calloused fingers on his hipbones. A shudder (delightful, of course) ran down his spine as he stirred his coffee mechanically. Remembering the way those cat-like eyes had looked as Ruki had grabbed Uruha’s hand, had licked the chocolate playfully off his fingers…

“Ohayou~!” Kai called as he came into the room, effectively making Ruki sputter and choke on his small, scalding sip of coffee. “Ne Ruki, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you!” Kai shrieked, running over to Ruki while flailing his arms.

The dimply brunette pounded the vocalist on the back, concern etched in his features, until Ruki finally managed to gain hold of his lungs; and ignore the sharp burning in his back every time Kai’s fist connected with it. Wincing, he quickly turned away and waved his arms, signaling he was okay. “Thank you, thank you, I’m okay,” he croaked.

And as Kai flapped his arms and crowed on about Ruki’s voice and if he was okay, the vocalist could feel those eyes on him again. And again, he felt a delightful shiver.

~*~

When Kai finally declared break, Ruki practically threw himself (being mindful of his sore back and neck and arms and…everything, really) onto the small leather couch and buried his head under the throw pillow. Uruha and Aoi were chatting as they left, announcing they were going out for a smoke. Kai squeaked and yelled for them to wait as he quickly scuttled out of the room.

And then there were two.

Ruki listened intently, straining his ears to listen for any noises from the room around him. There was none, but that didn’t mean he was alone. He swore Reita had attended ninja school, could control his damn heartbeats to be as quiet as possible.

Just as he expected, he jerked as large hands gently took hold of his ankles and lifted his legs, a lanky body resting itself on the furniture before resting Ruki’s legs across his lap. “All right, Ru?” that deep voice – purr, almost – asked as he gently massaged the blonde’s ankles.

“I’m fine,” Ruki breathed against his wrist. He lifted the throw pillow slightly, peering out from underneath his oversized sweater to peer at Reita. “Are you?”

“Perfectly content,” Reita said, smiling in a way that made the vocalist’s heart leap. “I’m sorry if you’re so—“

“Don’t be,” Ruki cut off, sitting up (and ineffectively hiding the wince) and touching Reita’s arm. He ignored the small thrill that zinged up his spine as he felt the muscles shift underneath his skin. “I deserved it. You had every reason to—“

“You aren’t sleeping with him,” Reita interjected. His eyes swung around to Ruki’s, locking and holding and immobilizing. “You’re mine, Ruki. I just wish I didn’t have to prove that to you.”

“I’m yours.” Ruki scooted closer, hooking his legs around Reita’s thighs and gripping his arm tightly. “I’m all yours.”

Reita watched him closely, unguarded self-consciousness shining in his chocolate eyes. Smiling softly, Ruki leaned forward and captured the bassist’s lips with his own.

X-posted to _quaintnotion, jrockyaoi.

'I Gave You The Night' (the Gazette, Reita/Ruki) R

Fri, 19 Dec 2008 07:47:26 GMT

Title: I Gave You The Night
Author: bitterwhitejam
Pairing: Reita/Ruki
Fandom: the Gazette
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, mentions of sex, violence
Word Count: 1284
Synopsis: “You had sex with him.” I didn’t realize I had spoken it aloud until Ruki looks at me, eyes piercing through the darkness. “Yeah. So?” I don’t realize what I’m doing until I’m on top of him, pinning him to the bed, and I punch him.
Disclaimer: [insert witty comment here about how I do not own the GazettE and never will, and am very sensitive about that fact thank you]

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes as if I should know, as if I should be able to read his goddamn mind because Lord knows that’s the only way I’ll ever understand him. His legs are crossed, his foot jiggling erratically and I know it’s because I’m smoking. I don’t bring myself to care.

“You know. Open. Like…everyone’s doing it.” He does that face – the one with the pursed lips and the big eyes and the head tilt - as if to say ‘you and I should be doing it too’ and I resist the urge to punch him and throw him against the wall and fuck him until he screams. I simply roll the cigarette between my fingers and eye him through the smoke, running my tongue back and forth over my teeth. They’re still smooth from brushing them this morning.

“That doesn’t explain anything. I don’t know anyone in an…open relationship.” I struggle for words, groping in the air uselessly for them. He sighs overdramatically again and slumps, slapping his child’s hand against the burnt leather of the couch.

“It’s like…it’s fucking open, Aki! I’m yours, but not really. You’re mine, but not really. We see each other, but see other people. Get it?”

I blink, staring at him. “What the fuck? What does…that’s the stupidest goddamn idea I’ve ever heard in my life!” I say slowly, staring at him in disbelief. Did he really think I’d agree to something like that? “The point of a relationship is to be…committed! You’re with one person, not everyone!”

He groans and throws his hands up, rolling his eyes. He jerks himself to his feet and begins to pace, muttering under his breath as he chews on a thumbnail. I sit back and watch. “See, the point is…I like you. But I don’t want to be committed. Get it? I don’t want some shitty emotional ties and have to come home and…” he trails off, growling and gripping his hair tightly with both fists.

Ruki had always been…eccentric.

“Then why even bring this up if you just want a fuckbuddy?” I growl, pinching the filter of my cigarette as I glare daggers at him. Flaming hot daggers.

“Because!” he shouts, flailing his arms above his head. “Because I want you to know that you’re special to me, not just some piece of ass!”

“Right. Got it. Will you suck me off now?”

~*~

He’s playing the same game he always plays on Friday nights. I come home from a ‘rhythm meeting’ with Kai to find him in a pair of tight-ass leather pants and some leopard print…thing over his chest. I wasn’t sure what to even call it. It barely covered anything.

He’s applying lipstick on his bottom lip in that way that makes it look ten times larger than it really is when I walk in, and he smirks at me in the mirror. A challenge. ‘Come get me. Come stop me.’

Like always, I don’t.

And like always, my ribs feel like they’re caving in on my chest and stomach.

“Who’re you going out with tonight?” I ask, trying to sound nonchalant. I must’ve succeeded because he simply smiles and shrugs, dabbing at his lip with a tissue.

“Aoi and Uruha. Drinking at some new bar, I guess.” He says it as casual as possible, but I can see out of the corner of my eye he’s watching me. Watching me closely. Looking for some sort of sign.

He gets none, so he turns back to the mirror to apply more eyeliner.

“Don’t wait up for me,” he coos, grinning.

I don’t answer, simply plopping down onto the couch as he saunters out the front door.

~*~

I can hear him, trying his hardest to be quiet as he pads through the apartment. The creak of the door seems unusually loud as he opens it, hissing curses. The dip of the mattress is more defined than I remember, the sound of his clothes coming off reaching my ears.

“Are you asleep?”

He smells like beer, smoke, and sweat. But not sex. Not another man. He never smells like another man.

I roll over and answer him with a hungry kiss, my tongue invading his mouth. I revel in the fact that he tastes strongly of Ruki and no Stranger taste is in his mouth. His tiny hands twist in my hair and I pull off my boxers.

And he’s mine for tonight, yet again.

~*~

It’s been weeks and he’s getting ready when I come home again. Little jewels are placed strategically along his lower lid, making his eyes sparkle as he looks at me and smiles. I want to open my mouth, want to say how beautiful he is or ask him to fuck me or something, but instead I just grunt out the same thing as every other week: “Who’re you going out with tonight?”

His lashes fall slightly as he turns back to his reflection, sprinkling some glitter on his face and chest. He looks like a pixie, all glittery and silver.

Like a star.

“This guy I met. He’s taking me to a club.”

“A guy you met?” I ask, shocked. Ruki usually goes out with Aoi or Uruha.

Ruki doesn’t meet men.

“Yeah. I met him at the café. We’re going out,” Ruki clarifies, as if he’s talking to a small child. At that point I figure I pretty much am.

“Oh,” is all I answer as I sit down heavily.

“Don’t wait up for me~”

~*~

Tonight is different.

He’s stumbling, not bothering to be quiet. The door bangs against the wall as he stumbles in and simply falls to the bed.

He smells like smoke and beer and sweat and sex.

I sit up, turning to look at him as he attempts to wriggle out of the tights he’s wearing while laying on the bed. I can see little bruises, grape-like on his hipbones, bruises and bites along his neck and shoulder.

“You had sex with him.”

I didn’t realize I had spoken it aloud until Ruki looks at me, eyes piercing through the darkness. “Yeah. So?”

I don’t realize what I’m doing until I’m on top of him, pinning him to the bed, and I punch him.

I punch him hard.

I’m punching him over and over and my fists are aching and his blood is smeared across my hand as it gushes onto the pillow and his nose is at a weird angle and he’s laughing. He’s laughing!

“That’s it!” he laughs, and when I stop, he grabs my fist and slaps it against his cheek, laughing again. “Feel something! Get passionate!”

And then I kiss him, and all I can taste is blood and the other man in his mouth.

I punch him in the stomach, in the chest, in the head. He wrestles with me and we wind up on the floor, Ruki punching me back and I grab his hair and slam his head against the floor, over and over.

He’s laughing even more now, even as his eyes are rolling back into his head.

~*~

“We got jumped,” Ruki murmurs quietly as the nurse gingerly cleans off his face. “Some gangsters, you know. Wanted our wallets and stuff. Akira managed to scare most of them off.” My eyes meet constant warm chocolate and my lips twitch in a smirk.

“This is going to need stitches,” the nurse breathes, her voice shaky. “I need to go get the doctor. Can you wait here?”

“I’ll wait as long as needed,” Ruki says quietly.

But his eyes aren’t on the retreating nurse. They’re on me.

X-posted to _quaintnotion, gazette_yaoi, and jrockyaoi.