[ the first time akihiko held him, ugetsu thought he might cry. it was alarming. it was liberating. it was everything. but ugetsu has known from a very very young age he is not meant to have 'everything'. he has chosen music, for better or for worse, until death do us part or so the story goes. why not both? he's sure he has been asked this by one night stands who cared a little more and also one night stands who wanted to care less, all of them asking the same silly thing: can't you love them both? "how stupid" he has said to them. of course he loves them both. of course he would cut himself open for the perfect sound of the bow gliding the heart just as it does the string. of course he would rather die than not feel these things. of course.
but to love both and to possess both is not the same at all.
those who've been irrevocably in love know it.
you can't stop knowing or noticing once you have.
some kind of hell.
but maybe that's accurate.
ugetsu is a burning sort of creature, born in summer yet suited to the changing leaves of autumn that flame and smoke away in their little manmade huddles. ugetsu is not the fire but he is the thing that catches fire, is the inextinguishable greed of that which begs and commands all in one fell swoop: devour me whole or not at all. there's that cliche, the one about not doing anything by halves, and it suits murata ugetsu within a centimeter's shard of his life.
if asked, he would give akihiko the season of spring but not the way most people think of it. spring has, with global warming, brought untold storms and the beautiful flowers drown before they can truly bloom but it doesn't change the fact that they were there; they existed. akihiko exists too: the violent storm and the beautiful flowers and the wide open sky that probably one day will be his in the hands of another lover who knows how to treat him better.
spring and autumn never actually touch.
it stands to reason that if an impossibility such as this were to occur, the world must be upside down, and so, perhaps they are.
akihiko bites into him and ugetsu fists one beautiful hand in his short hair as if to say: harder. because with akihiko that is always ugetsu's demand, his desire, his plea even if he'd never admit it with that name. even when he sleeps with other men, even when objectively they're rougher and borderline violent, it doesn't do anything much for ugetsu because they don't mean it. akihiko means it: the love and the resentment both, the feelings with broad callused hands that adore and worship and the feelings with teeth that could bruise or rip out a throat in turn, given the right motive.
no one, after akihiko, will ever be enough.
and because it's ugetsu, it's possible not even akihiko is enough but that's an old fight for an old song that isn't even theirs anymore.
but even if the song isn't theirs, the dance might be and even sounds can be movements as any good musician knows: ugetsu's moans, the way he leans in and arches towards every single glance of akihiko's fingers or his tongue or his teeth, all of this is part of it, and all of it is only for aki despite the number of people they both know ugetsu has used to try to push him away.
maybe that's why it hasn't worked; because of course akihiko knows.
akihiko was the first to know ugetsu and perhaps he will be the last.
ugetsu wouldn't mind. it feels appropriate.
mine, he thinks with a sigh that's a thousand broken gifts and house fires they never truly intended to fix or put out to begin with, one hand still tight in akihiko's hair, the other clutched so hard at his waist there will be bruises and little red crescents for his trouble. ]
gluttons for punishment...these two honestly.... /has...so many...yet never enough?!
but to love both and to possess both is not the same at all.
those who've been irrevocably in love know it.
you can't stop knowing or noticing once you have.
some kind of hell.
but maybe that's accurate.
ugetsu is a burning sort of creature, born in summer yet suited to the changing leaves of autumn that flame and smoke away in their little manmade huddles. ugetsu is not the fire but he is the thing that catches fire, is the inextinguishable greed of that which begs and commands all in one fell swoop: devour me whole or not at all. there's that cliche, the one about not doing anything by halves, and it suits murata ugetsu within a centimeter's shard of his life.
if asked, he would give akihiko the season of spring but not the way most people think of it. spring has, with global warming, brought untold storms and the beautiful flowers drown before they can truly bloom but it doesn't change the fact that they were there; they existed. akihiko exists too: the violent storm and the beautiful flowers and the wide open sky that probably one day will be his in the hands of another lover who knows how to treat him better.
spring and autumn never actually touch.
it stands to reason that if an impossibility such as this were to occur, the world must be upside down, and so, perhaps they are.
akihiko bites into him and ugetsu fists one beautiful hand in his short hair as if to say: harder. because with akihiko that is always ugetsu's demand, his desire, his plea even if he'd never admit it with that name. even when he sleeps with other men, even when objectively they're rougher and borderline violent, it doesn't do anything much for ugetsu because they don't mean it. akihiko means it: the love and the resentment both, the feelings with broad callused hands that adore and worship and the feelings with teeth that could bruise or rip out a throat in turn, given the right motive.
no one, after akihiko, will ever be enough.
and because it's ugetsu, it's possible not even akihiko is enough but that's an old fight for an old song that isn't even theirs anymore.
but even if the song isn't theirs, the dance might be and even sounds can be movements as any good musician knows: ugetsu's moans, the way he leans in and arches towards every single glance of akihiko's fingers or his tongue or his teeth, all of this is part of it, and all of it is only for aki despite the number of people they both know ugetsu has used to try to push him away.
maybe that's why it hasn't worked; because of course akihiko knows.
akihiko was the first to know ugetsu and perhaps he will be the last.
ugetsu wouldn't mind. it feels appropriate.
mine, he thinks with a sigh that's a thousand broken gifts and house fires they never truly intended to fix or put out to begin with, one hand still tight in akihiko's hair, the other clutched so hard at his waist there will be bruises and little red crescents for his trouble. ]