The wee hours of the early morning were always a difficult time for Ruki to sleep. He felt most creative, right at his peak with inspiration and lyrical stories whirling about in his thoughts that begged to be written down before he lost them to the bleak darkness of forget. But he needed – no, wanted, not needed – something to help ease the racing of his thoughts and coax him completely into a slumber he could feel wait for him, but stubbornly skirted around him when he decided to lay down and close his eyes.
After much careful thought (and unspoken hesitation) he reached for his phone and scrolled down his listed contacts until he reached the name of a certain guitarist that, regardless of being asleep himself, wouldn’t make a single fuss of being asked for company regardless of the near twenty minutes it takes.
Now, he was stuck in a world where he teetered on the thin line of remaining in the beginning of a dream that escaped him faster than sand slipping from the spaces of his fingers and warmth that held him by the nape of his neck; lips felt moving against his cheek with the forming of words that barely registered to sink in.
“I said: I knew you were going to pass out soon.” Uruha chuckled, and Ruki smiled lightly with a hum, keeping his eyes shut as he felt himself be pulled and held more comfortably.
“I didn’t pass out. I’m just…listening to you.”
“Is that so?”
“What did I say, then?”
Ruki groaned, his eyebrows furrowing lightly before a soft smirk quirked upward a corner of his lips. “I’m the best piece of ass you’ve ever had.” A bubble of brief laughter met his ears at his reply, and there was simply no other way to avoid his smirk crooking further as he rolled until he rested atop of the chuckling guitarist, pressing a lingering kiss against a spot of his neck soon afterwards.
“Go to sleep.” Uruha instructed close to his ear for the fifth time that morning, rolling until they both settled to rest on their sides once more with limbs tangled in warmth and comfort and something else that sends warmth to flood Ruki’s chest with the caresses of Uruha’s fingers burying gently inside the locks of his hair. It makes him secure his arms around Uruha’s waist, his fingers curling against the soft fabric of Uruha’s t-shirt with a slightly muffled enquire that halts the soothing caresses in his hair.
“Will you be here when I wake up?”
A silence filled between their non-existent space. With their bodies flushed against each other and their legs nothing but a tangle of drowsiness and familiarity that always made Uruha want to stay, there was simply no such thing as space or distance; there was no distance in their wants and desires that held nothing to any agreement they agreed to so long ago.
“Yeah,” Uruha’s lips met the warmth of Ruki’s forehead to leave a lingering kiss as his fingers picked back up to caress his vocalist’s hair affectionately. “I’ll be right here.”
Ruki refused to think any longer on the swell of warmth that took homage in the depths of his chest and fluttered beneath his heart, but those words coupled with the press of lips remaining at his forehead and the warmth he held on to was just enough to sooth him into slumber as the rays of the morning sun began to gradually peek through his sheer window curtains.
“Are you drunk?” Ruki’s husky voice asked on the other line, and Uruha bit briefly his lower lip with a furrow of his eyebrows as silence filled between them.
Uruha didn’t know what stirred within to make him call anyone at this ungodly hour of the morning. It seemed like a good idea after being helped inside his apartment by Aoi before the guitarist left after making Uruha promise that he’d take care of himself. The silence of his home unnerved him when he knew he was so used to it and it did nothing to sooth the craving for a cigarette when he damn-well knew that he quit the one of many of his addictions.
“Kouyou?” Ruki called to him once more, sleep remaining evident in his tone, and Uruha smiled. Uruha was a lot of things. He was cheeky, blunt and sarcastic; tired, dizzy and hungry; needy- in love with the voice that called to him in concern with sleep heavily evident in its tone and drowning in what could possibly be—
“Yeah,” Uruha finally answered between a soft sigh as he passed his fingers through his blonde locks, his small smile tugging further at the corners of his lips as his brown eyes shut closed slowly. “Yeah, I’m drunk.”
—a craving to have the very man that chuckled on the other line by his side for the night as he curled slightly around a pillow that still smelled of the cologne that he could recall his vocalist wear often.
I’m sure some of you saw this coming one way or the other, mm?
Sadly to say, finals are here and due to being a visual arts major I have many, many projects, a 10-page paper to type for before May, and a drawing piece to work on in hopes that I will be able to publish it in an upcoming event that may be able to be bought if good enough. My plate is far too full and stress has already placed a bit of a block on my attempts to write. But my summer vacation is near, so I won’t be away from all of you for too long. I promise. Just until the 3rd of May.
Until then, I will try to write whenever I can and hopefully be able to place a bit on queue.However, I will be on twitter. So if you want to keep up with me - or even the tiniest bit interested - you can always find me there.
Thank you for understanding♡
They meet again on a cold Wednesday day on the beach, eyes guarded yet hearts open anew instantly, hands never getting over how to override the old routine of reaching, fingers itching to caress and lips - lips wanting to meet, taste, with arms that embrace…
And yet they stand at a distance. Uruha averts his gaze elsewhere and Ruki smiles ruefully, intending to adjust his winter scarf that he would have pointed out he could fix himself had Uruha not reached to do it for him. Ruki reeks of cigarettes and Uruha a tangled mess of a composition he can’t quite find the inspiration to place together, yet together as their gazes lock and their bodies draw closer they become an entity of something so much more than lost lyrics, a forgotten song and a broken love that just needs healing because it’s there - still there - right in the depths of their gazes, in the sigh of Uruha’s name tumbling from Ruki’s lips with hands that don’t prevent Uruha any further from stealing his full lips in a deep, lingering kiss and the the grip of their fingers that beg to let time stand still…
But time doesn’t, and the crashing of the waves returning back to shore no matter how much the tide pushes it away is what makes them part slowly, yet as they both part opposite ways Uruha couldn’t help but believe that they were no different like the sea that reaches for the beach’s shore for one last kiss before saying goodbye and returning regardless of the given tide.
It was a habit that would never die.
[ 1 ]
— 04 April
asked : jfc, i cannot say just how much i respect you as a writer. it is so hard to find any good stories with uruki for they are not as popular as the other pairings and the fact that you sacrifice your time to write about them means a lot..
I honestly am completely speechless and at a lost for words besides becoming suddenly so teary (laughs) But it truly is a pleasure to write this pair and contribute as I can regardless of them being a pair that isn’t as popular .I love them and I love writing, and I love sharing my writing of them with all of you.
Thank you so, so much♡
[ 1 ]
— 30 March
asked : Do you ever just read someone's work and just sigh with happiness because that's exactly what the ending of your last piece did to me. So wonderful, as always~
Come here, dear, you ( ; ; )♡♡♡
You are entirely too kind, dear and- Thank you so, so terribly much♡
With opened cans of soda and shared packs of cigarettes, Kouyou and Takanori relax under a lamp post,blowing clouds of smoke upwards towards faint stars with snickers and song of Sweet Child o’ Mine - imitated sound of guitar riffs and all, and heavily accented English. Husky, loud, playful, with eyes shimmering with teenaged rebellion that spoke volumes that they just snuck out from home. Better yet, away from a cramped van of band mates and a certain one didn’t know how to stop snoring.
That van was their home, but now so was the dark sky, and the warmth they shared by Kouyou draping his jacket over Takanori’s shoulders while telling him to take care, and the indirect kiss that sends warmth to flush through Kouyou’s veins as he watches the small boy reach for his soda can and drink the remaining last bit without a trace of hesitation.
“What?” Takanori asked with an arched eyebrow, and Kouyou tells him it’s nothing. It really is nothing, but the warmth that lingers in his veins and surfaces along his skin tells him otherwise and he ignores it all the same.
Just like he does the way how their shoes s nearly touch toe-to-toe as they sit next to each other on the pavement sidewalk; counting stars and making wishes on them, only to have them crushed as Takanori points out that they are a billion years too late because the stars are dead and their light only remains.
“Mood-killing realist,” Kouyou mutters with a light glare, and Takanori simply smirks with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Cheesy dreamer,” Takanori retorts back, and their knees bump gently against one another with the smell of menthol lingering between them in comfortable silence as they declare this spot to be their spot - no one else’s, just theirs. They mark their name on the sidewalk with permanent marker Takanori has stashed in the pocket of his jeans.
To this very day their names remain marked. Worn and faded, but there nonetheless. It brings a grin to their lips each time they visit when not so busy with band activities and see for themselves if anything had changed underneath the streetlights and shadows of the night.
The streetlights were the first to witness their beginning journey of forever, and their fingers entwine and palms kiss in the darkness as they share menthol cigarettes and a bottle of soda while making wishes on dead stars together for happiness, and to remain just like this…
“What did you get Uruha for White day?”
It was a simple question, and yet it wasn’t at all. It stops Ruki from taking the last sip of his coffee and he arches slowly a single eyebrow at the small grin the dark guitarist flashes him, fingers still moving over the strings of his guitar and a opened box of chocolates settled at his side.
“What are you implying?” Ruki asks slowly, and it’s enough to make Aoi simply roll his eyes.
“What did you get him?” Aoi repeats with slight impatience, and Ruki glares lightly over the rim of his cup. There were always something teasing in the questions Aoi asked; while he still held on to that ridiculous grin, and the longer Ruki glared at it, the more he couldn’t help but voice his thought assumptions of what the other was silently implying.
” I’m not the…the woman in this relationship, if that’s what you’re saying—”
“I never said that.” Aoi’s grin widened in a shit-eating grin, crooked with uncontainable deviousness, and he smoothly sunk more into his seat while uncrossing his ankles and reaching to adjust his sunglasses and pop another piece of chocolate into his awaiting mouth. “That, my friend, came out of your mouth. Not mine.”
If there was any day Aoi managed to successfully stump the small man into not being able to grasp for a witty answer, today was the day and Aoi basked in it cheekily like the superstar that he was while enjoying the sight of a flushed red that stained Ruki’s cheeks and the murmur of “fuck off” that was tossed his way in a grumble.
[ 1 ]
— 12 March
asked : You are amazingly talented.. ;A; Thank you so much for all of your beautiful fanfictions!
Aww, thank you so, so much, dear! Without you guys reading them, I surely wouldn’t be writing♡
Yeslord-we were not readyyyyyyy
Gaze intense, locks mused and damp, and eyes coated in pure seduction that wasn’t even needed, because Uruha’s stance, his hands, the lidding of his eyes as he tangled his fingers in his hair with the palms that pressed against his cheeks while looking directly at the camera was more than seductive enough, and…
Ruki was struck with the urge of having the pleasure of riding the fuck out of the very man that stood a good distance away from him.
Uruha looked as if he came directly from out of the shower and dressed into costume right afterwards without bothering to dry his hair - hair that Ruki’s fingers itched to tangle in while being kisses senselessly, pressed against the opposite well, or counter, or… - and he had the very nerve to look in Ruki’s direction with a slightly confused expression before smirking crookedly while tilting back his head to move aside his damp fringe from his eyeshadow-caked eyes.
Ruki knew he wouldn’t get very far in his wishes of riding the guitarist until they both were too exhausted to move another inch - he never did when Uruha had a knack for suddenly changing the tables around and it was Ruki that was pinned beneath Uruha with deep and hard thrusts, hands that slipped against his skin in a lost of control with lips that left deep love marks along his neck and shoulder in the process…
But that never stopped him from acting on those impulses later that night when he saw to it to go home with Uruha instead.
It seemed that Uruha had the same intentions as well, because his husky, lowly murmured request of “Come home with me” was more than enough of an invitation. It was an invitation Ruki could never pass up, and so he took it by leaving a promising kiss discretely against a spot along Uruha’s cheek blindly once turning his head and meeting the guitarist’s gaze with a small smirk and a nod of his head.