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((NOTES AT THE END))
Sajou looks at the conster invitation in his grasp, the same one his boyfriend gave him on their walk home, he was second guessing if he should go, he better unless he wanted a whiny and clingy, not to mention an annoyed Kusakabe.
Sajou walks up the remaining steps, looking at the door presented in front of him, chipped paint, splintered wood, and the door knob was half off.
His hand reaches out, stopping just short of it, hesitating for a moment. He willed himself to turn the door knob, loosely rattling in his grasp, he twisted it (finally) stepping into the room, the bass from the other concerts rattled the floor, sinking deep into his bones.
—”who’re you here for?”— there was a bug eyed lady standing at the front desk, she was a bit short, standing over it on the tips of her toes, looking at him expectantly, —”u- uhm” he stumbled over his words, caught off guard at her appearance, —”ZROK”— he had to look back down at the invitation, attempting to pronounce it properly.
—”alright, that’ll be ¥2500.”— She responded by holding the concert ticket and a free drink coupon. He fumbles with his wallet for a moment, before pulling out the bills, putting them in her opposite hand.
With the ticket in hand and the free drink coupon, he walked into the stage room, stopping in utter awe when he saw his lover on stage.
Blonde, puffy hair,
Fitted suit,
Loose tie,
Oh god he looked absolutely stunning…
Sajou was absolutely smitten for him, unable to look away, until a sharp voice snapped him out of his daze,
—”what’re you ‘ere ta drink, kid?”— It was the bartender, holding a paper cup and a cloth, wiping down the black, marble bench. He turned around for a moment, waiting for his answer while he looked at the rows and rows of alcohol. —”ehh, I’ll get a beer, thanks.”— It was another man, leaning over the counter with his arms. The bartender mistook Sajou for the man, and handed him the beer, taking the coupon from his hands. He was about to say something, when the band started another one of their songs.
He took a sip, the bitter taste coating the inside of his mouth, he visibly grimaced, but took another. Time practically flew out the windows that didn't exist in this room. And in his tipsy mind, he thought it would be a great idea to go and see his lover backstage, his body was sluggish and heavy, from the alcohol and time of night.
—”Go girl, you can do it.”—it was a woman with her hand on her friend's back, standing in front of Kusakabe. —”I- I- I was wondering if I could get your number, and we could talk sometime? O- or whatever…”— the friend stammered with a flushed face, he wasn't very bothered by it, it was fine, his boyfriend was quite the famous guitarist, it wasn't any surprise that things like this happened, and he trusted him that he wouldn't say anything
—”yeah, what's your number?”— his heart
Sank.
Because in his lightweight mind, he just got cheated on, in his first relationship, ever. And he didn’t like his feeling, he hated it, it stung in all the right places.
He didn't know how he got outside, all he knew was that he wanted to get as far from him as possible, his phone was being blown up with texts from a very concerned Kusakabe. Sajou stumbles up a hill, landing in a sand box.
A call. From kusakabe.
He answers. And wished he didn't.
—”fu- where are you!”— his voice was sharp, harsh through the device, he pulls the top of his flip-phone away from his ear as he visibly grimaces at the volume. The sand beneath him shifts as he lays down, sand tangling with his silk like hair.
—”uhm..”— he looks around, it was a playground, and he was laying in the sand pit, the swings were rusted, and the slide was falling apart. His words slurred slightly as he spoke, quickly disposing of the cup that was in his hand when he realized. —”some parks sand pit…”—
And not a moment later, footsteps smack against the hill that lead up to the park, and sand flew everywhere as Kusakabe basically dived into Sajous arms, burying his head into the crook of his neck, scolding him for not picking up on his messages and calls, —”you idiot! Why didn't you pick up my calls? You got me worried, why the hell would you do that? You idiot!”— Kusakabe’s arms are now wrapped around his body, shaking him back and forward by his shoulders.
—”let go of me.”— his flushed face turns away, getting caught on his fingers on his jaw, pulling him back, —”you don't get to do that and then run away.”— Sajou's breath gets caught in his throat when the blonde's lips press against his, first soft—caring, tender even.
But then desperation seeps into the cracks of it, a quicker pace picking up. Sajous hands press against his chest, trying to push him away, even if he didn't want to. Then the guitarist's tongue slips into his mouth, all protests dying on his tongue, a small whimper slipping out as he returns the kiss, Kusakabe's tongue piercing sliding against his tongue as it slides and wraps around his.
Then it parts, a string of saliva connecting their lips as he moves away, —”seriously answer my calls. Though.”— he starts to stand up. —”was I cool?”— his head cocks to the side, an eyebrow quirking upward. Sajou responds:
—”I dunno..”— he looks everywhere but his eyes, the grains of sand becoming rather interesting now that he really noticed how close he was to him.
Kusakabe’s hand comes up to pull his jaw to force him to look at him. —””was I cool?”— he asks again, this time boring into his eyes. And all he could so in response, was nothing.
Kusakabe untangles himself from the boy with glasses, and stands up, offering him a hand and-
Sajou looked beautiful like that, face flushed, hair dishevelled and a perfect pout playing on his lips.
Sajou took his hand, using him to stand up, his knees buckle slightly, and he falls into his knees in front of Kusakabe, his face, nack and ears turn a dark shade of red as he looks up, —”ah- S- S- you can’t just do that!”— he mumbles, his voice fraying and cracking at the edges. He yanks him back up, and placing a hand under the top part of his back, and under his knees, picking him up, bridal style ((SUBTLE FORESHADDOWING.)).
As they walk through the bustling streets of Tokyo. They get a few side glares, like they were being judged (they were). After walking the back streets, he glances at the moon that was dipping below the hills. The only sound of the night was the guitarist's footsteps slapping against the pavement.
The door to their shared apartment was only a few long strides away. He the hand underneath his knees to grab the key out of his pocket, opening the door. The familiar and comforting smell of home filled his senses. —”Sajou, darling, were home.”— he walks directly to their shared bedroom, placing him on the unmade bed, stretching his own cramped back.
His hands stretch above his head, watching his half asleep lover dig his head into the pillow, arching his back and stretching like a cat, he chuckles as he watches. —”arent you just adorable.”— You could almost hear the cocky grin splayed across his face.
His hands gently take his uniform shirt off his back, then throwing one of his baggy band tees at him, then a pair of home shorts. When he doesn’t move, he lets out a groan, this was not a plan in this relationship —”c’monnnn work with me here, baby..”— He walks back over, untying his shoes and pulling them off his feet, then moving to his belt, unbuckling it and tossing it aside.
His fingers work on his button of his pants, slowly tugging them down, when Sajou groans, —”mmngh… no.. I have a boyfriend… stop it..”— His legs kick a little bit, and his head tilts to the side in confusion, —”huuuuuh…? I am your boyfriend, numb-nut.”— his hands resume on his pants, —”lift your hips.”— he orders him, and when he doesn't, he runs a finger along his back, making it arch, —”augh!-”— a smile of victory spreads across his face when he successfully takes his pants off, sliding on the shorts he grabbed, and following in suit with the shirt.
—”see, was that so hard?”— he does the same with himself, new shirt, new pants, then laying beside him with a tired huff. His arms open, inviting him to come and lay in his arms. And he did, rolling over and shoving his head in his chest, his arms come to loosely wrap around him.
—”i am not jealous of the hangover you're about to have…”—
—”hey… you were cool by the way..”—