[ugetsu's favorite partners who aren't akihiko are the ones who treat him so roughly he forgets, just a little, who he is and what he loves and what he really actually needs. ugetsu's favorite music that isn't found underneath his own fingertips is the kind suited to soundproof basements made for one earbud in one ear and one hanging homeless; instead of two shared, because some part of him knows this will probably be his future sooner than later and ugetsu is nothing if not a glutton for punishment. ugetsu's favorite taste that isn't being wanted is being revered the way his audiences do so often: wildly civil in their well pressed suits and beautiful dresses and expensive accessories but all with the same wolf teeth and hungry hands that are never ever allowed to touch him.
around when he started performing and traveling, ugetsu learned fast that there were those who would 'connect' him with various venues and opportunities expecting more than his stage presence. he became well versed in the words that sounded like 'yes' but were always 'no'. sometimes he uses that voice on akihiko because it's true that some part of ugetsu has always wanted to be the one wielding the knife, and sometimes he wants to press it in against the vitality of the one person he loves; sometimes he wants to turn it on himself as a threat but it wouldn't work. not on the boy who sat by the river and thought: it's a good day to die. ugetsu holds the knife as well with his teeth as with his beautiful hands. he holds akihiko similarly.
if he turned him against him, what then? it's not like he hasn't been trying, but there's always been that reassurance: he'll never really leave me. he would never abandon the violin. he wouldn't dare.
it's too convoluted now, for ugetsu to notice how his own thoughts warp and melt over and confuse themselves, almost in a form of self defense.
when akihiko's fingers push into him ugetsu arches his hips to take them in deeper and faster without the subconscious kindness akihiko can't seem to wholly rid himself of. don't be nice to me ugetsu often thinks with a smile that's not a smile; don't you fucking dare. because he doesn't deserve it. i don't want it. the biggest lies, they say, are the ones we tell ourselves.
ugetsu knows.]
Aki...
[the way akihiko keeps one of his hands pinned while his fingers work ugetsu open is as indicative of what akihiko demands as it is of what ugetsu allows him. none of this would happen otherwise. the way akihiko bites and sucks against his lower lip makes ugetsu moan like it hurts, as if he's not all but grinding down too hard and fast against akihiko's fingers, like he's warning him he'll get himself off just like this if he doesn't just hurry up. because just as akihiko vies to make him wait, ugetsu fights tooth and nail as if to say: you'll have to try harder than that.
in the messy gasp and stealing of breath between kisses, ugetsu has the temerity to laugh breathy and high and impossibly turned on because that's how it is with them. no one gives or take as good as they do; even if they don't admit it.]
Is that bassist making you softer, mmm Aki? So gentle. But I guess, haaa, [he peers up at akihiko through his lashes,]...I guess you already were.
[to someone else this might sound cheap. ugetsu even himself isn't sure that it...well, isn't. but sometimes cheap shots are exactly what ugetsu is about. he's not the kind to get into a back alley fight but if he did he'd never play fair. because he doesn't want to and also because he feels like he's already lost even if consciously he doesn't acknowledge that. it's the primitive instinct of all or nothing, knowing that even when you get 'all', it's only still the prelude to the nothing. struggling his hand out of akihiko's grasp, it's natural as anything for ugetsu to curl his fingers up hard against akihiko's throat, to press his fingertips sharp and feel his perfectly manicured nails press into his skin like he wants to crush him.
he does.
then that hand smooths with dissonant sweetness backwards to curl at akihiko's nape and drag him down for another kiss that ugetsu stops smiling into, the more honest expression hidden because there's no way aki can see this close: the flicker flash of sadness even ugetsu doesn't know he still harbors on the surface.
ugetsu's words aren't even entirely true. most people would not call the minimal preparation and then the hooked press of akihiko's fingers before 'gentle'. but this is ugetsu and this is akihiko. this is the soundproof basement that thirsts for the sun it already built itself against. this is the epitome of not enough --
-- never enough.
akihiko is fragile though, in his own way. ugetsu knows if he asked him to hurt him, he couldn't, not on purpose. so ugetsu strings him along as best he knows how -- very -- and corners him into the same kind of unforgiving head-on collision he experiences every time he says his name. he's ruining him every time and in that same essence, ugetsu demands reciprocity.
<< birds of a feather flock together...
around when he started performing and traveling, ugetsu learned fast that there were those who would 'connect' him with various venues and opportunities expecting more than his stage presence. he became well versed in the words that sounded like 'yes' but were always 'no'. sometimes he uses that voice on akihiko because it's true that some part of ugetsu has always wanted to be the one wielding the knife, and sometimes he wants to press it in against the vitality of the one person he loves; sometimes he wants to turn it on himself as a threat but it wouldn't work. not on the boy who sat by the river and thought: it's a good day to die. ugetsu holds the knife as well with his teeth as with his beautiful hands. he holds akihiko similarly.
if he turned him against him, what then? it's not like he hasn't been trying, but there's always been that reassurance: he'll never really leave me. he would never abandon the violin. he wouldn't dare.
it's too convoluted now, for ugetsu to notice how his own thoughts warp and melt over and confuse themselves, almost in a form of self defense.
when akihiko's fingers push into him ugetsu arches his hips to take them in deeper and faster without the subconscious kindness akihiko can't seem to wholly rid himself of. don't be nice to me ugetsu often thinks with a smile that's not a smile; don't you fucking dare. because he doesn't deserve it. i don't want it. the biggest lies, they say, are the ones we tell ourselves.
ugetsu knows.]
Aki...
[the way akihiko keeps one of his hands pinned while his fingers work ugetsu open is as indicative of what akihiko demands as it is of what ugetsu allows him. none of this would happen otherwise. the way akihiko bites and sucks against his lower lip makes ugetsu moan like it hurts, as if he's not all but grinding down too hard and fast against akihiko's fingers, like he's warning him he'll get himself off just like this if he doesn't just hurry up. because just as akihiko vies to make him wait, ugetsu fights tooth and nail as if to say: you'll have to try harder than that.
in the messy gasp and stealing of breath between kisses, ugetsu has the temerity to laugh breathy and high and impossibly turned on because that's how it is with them. no one gives or take as good as they do; even if they don't admit it.]
Is that bassist making you softer, mmm Aki? So gentle. But I guess, haaa, [he peers up at akihiko through his lashes,]...I guess you already were.
[to someone else this might sound cheap. ugetsu even himself isn't sure that it...well, isn't. but sometimes cheap shots are exactly what ugetsu is about. he's not the kind to get into a back alley fight but if he did he'd never play fair. because he doesn't want to and also because he feels like he's already lost even if consciously he doesn't acknowledge that. it's the primitive instinct of all or nothing, knowing that even when you get 'all', it's only still the prelude to the nothing. struggling his hand out of akihiko's grasp, it's natural as anything for ugetsu to curl his fingers up hard against akihiko's throat, to press his fingertips sharp and feel his perfectly manicured nails press into his skin like he wants to crush him.
he does.
then that hand smooths with dissonant sweetness backwards to curl at akihiko's nape and drag him down for another kiss that ugetsu stops smiling into, the more honest expression hidden because there's no way aki can see this close: the flicker flash of sadness even ugetsu doesn't know he still harbors on the surface.
ugetsu's words aren't even entirely true. most people would not call the minimal preparation and then the hooked press of akihiko's fingers before 'gentle'. but this is ugetsu and this is akihiko. this is the soundproof basement that thirsts for the sun it already built itself against. this is the epitome of not enough --
-- never enough.
akihiko is fragile though, in his own way. ugetsu knows if he asked him to hurt him, he couldn't, not on purpose. so ugetsu strings him along as best he knows how -- very -- and corners him into the same kind of unforgiving head-on collision he experiences every time he says his name. he's ruining him every time and in that same essence, ugetsu demands reciprocity.
teeth. nails. blood.
but never tears. ]