Miyabi sucked until the last shuddering spurt was done, lingered, then pulled off Sakito's cock and spat delicately into the wash basin. He was dabbing at his slightly smudged lipstick and rearranging strands of his hair before Sakito rolled back around to the land of the conscious. He didn't even glance at Sakito in the mirror when he heard the groan and the, "Where you going?"
"That's today?" Sakito's voice was a little huskier than usual, his question a little more moronic than usual, and Miyabi didn't bother answering him. "Don't you want to--"
"I don't have time."
He snagged up his coat and got a glimpse of Sakito sprawled out on his back, shirt spread open to reveal his chest-- and lower than that, the curve of his hipbones-- and lower, his fly undone. "Fuck," said Sakito, his hand spreading out over his stomach. "I saw stars."
"Blah, blah, blah," said Miyabi.
Miyabi had moods where he didn't want to hear it, didn't want to know about it, just wanted to purr and rub up against something like a cat in heat; he'd ditched his bandmates after the live in Ibaraki to get nailed in a back room by a security guard who was all grunt and muscle, and all it took from Miyabi was one steady look, pushing sweat-wet hair out of his face, and the words, "Hey ugly, wanna fuck?"
He went after Sakito only slightly more often than he went after Kikasa, and sometimes Sakito had his own pissy moods where he'd try to push Miyabi away and say things like, "No, fuck you, I'm not going to let you do this to me again--" but Sakito's resolve always melted with the first kiss. Miyabi had even coaxed Kazuki, who usually had a girlfriend, into a kiss or two that had heated up, hands sliding under t-shirts and Miyabi getting dizzy, until Kazuki had pulled back and gasped, "Miyabi--" with something like fear in his dark eyes, and Miyabi had frowned and for whatever reason backed off.
At Shoxx they said, take that off, and, lie like this, and he said, "You mean like this?" and he stretched out while all around him the cameras clicked and flashed. Like you want to blow the cameraman, was his instruction, so he knelt up and said, "If I blow you for real, do I get to be on the cover?" A volley of flashes. But he never actually did it with management staff, because he had learned a long, long time ago never to fuck someone with power over his friends.
"Hyde's on the cover," said the voice behind the camera.
Miyabi slipped his hand down his pants. "Did Hyde blow you?"
"Fuck, Miyabi," came the soft curse from behind the camera, and Miyabi smiled about it later, as he was towelling himself off.
The band split up for their promotional appearances that month. There was a northbound and a southbound group, and a complex itinerary that Kazuki studied for a while before saying, slowly, "Basically, the southbound group gets the good hotels . . ."
"I'm south," said Miyabi, instantly.
"And the northbound group gets the good food," finished Kazuki.
"North," said Sakito.
"North," echoed Kikasa, drifting over to stand next to Sakito. He shrugged at Miyabi and said, "I hate Nagoya," by way of explanation, but the real reason was that outside of the band, Sakito and Kikasa did everything together.
"Whatever," said Miyabi, thinking boring, I'm going on the promotional tour with the boring one, how boring. He looked straight at Kazuki, who shrugged at him also, but as if to say can't be helped, man. Sorry.
It sucked. The van sucked. It was small and cramped. Miyabi had long legs and nowhere to put them because he was fighting for space with Kazuki and two amplifiers. They barely talked during the drive.
Kazuki closed his eyes and stayed that way for most of the ride, his head leaned against the back of the uncomfortable seat, managing to sleep, incredibly. Miyabi, jolted with every bump, watched Kazuki sleeping, speculating idly on what it would take to make him wake up.
A blow job. A car accident.
At the hotel, Miyabi claimed leg cramps and took the first shower, coming out an indolent twenty or thirty minutes later towelling his hair.
Kazuki yawned and said, "We've got an interview with Fool's Mate at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."
"You're going to fall asleep and let me deal with the questions, I hate you," said Miyabi, absently.
A pause. "They're going to ask us why it's you and me together, and why Sakito's with Kikasa."
"Whatever. The idols went one way, the musicians went the other."
"I'm an idol?" said Kazuki, blinking, and Miyabi gave him a little look, dropping his towel into the basket near the door.
"We're the musicians."
"You sure do play the guitar a lot," agreed Kazuki a couple of days later, lying flat on his back and gazing up at the ceiling. Although they had the good hotels, they didn't really have good hotels. In Nagoya it was both of them in a tiny twin room. Kazuki had claimed the bed by the window and was sprawled out on it. Miyabi had the bed by the door, and had already unpacked his guitar.
"I'm a guitarist," said Miyabi.
"I don't play the drums all the time," said Kazuki.
"You're a drummer."
Kazuki rolled onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow. He was wearing sweat pants and a loose t-shirt that had hitched up, showing his smooth, flat belly. Unstyled, his hair was a blond flop around his handsomely preppy, square-jawed face; the boy next door who just happened to be in a visual band. He said, "I thought you never practised. I thought you were, like, a natural."
"Yeah." Absently. Miyabi, who had grown up with stop playing with that fucking guitar type comments, had pretty much tuned out of whatever it was Kazuki was saying, but he tuned back in when he heard:
"I know you get attention for other stuff, but I really admire your guitar playing a lot. I guess I never got the chance to tell you that before."
Miyabi looked up from his guitar.
"This means you wanna fuck?" he asked, cocking his head.
"No," said Kazuki, frowning a little.
"Fuck," said Miyabi, feeling his cheeks heat up. Blushing. He never blushed. Fuck. And then, "You know I'd do you in a second," he found himself saying, his cheeks even hotter, and that was the wrong thing to say too.
Kazuki lay back down, his arm thrown over his eyes. "You'd do anyone in a second, Miyabi."
Miyabi picked up a guy at a club in Sakae that night, and maybe Kazuki was right. It didn't take much for the guy to coax Miyabi into one of the club's dark corners; Miyabi didn't care. He was turned on, climbing out of his skin. He brought his lips close to an ear, his hand sliding between the guy's legs.
"What do you want?" he breathed.
"What'll you do?" asked the guy.
"I have to shower," he said, the moment he got back to the hotel. Twenty minutes of steamy water making him feel fresh and warm and sleepy. He hadn't thought he was hungry, but when he walked back into the twin room the smell of pizza made his stomach rumble.
"Pizza," announced Kazuki.
"I love you," said Miyabi.
"So what'd you do tonight," Kazuki asked, pulling a slice from the box and lifting it, stretching the cheese until it snapped and hung down loosely from the pizza.
"Blew a stranger," said Miyabi, and Kazuki looked at him, shocked. "Kidding," he added, awkwardly. It was weird for a moment, but then it wasn't, because Kazuki was passing him a beer and saying with a grin, "Whatever, man. Here's to the musicians."
"The sign says 'Osu Kannon'."
"Yeah, with a big arrow on it pointing the other way."
"I never get lost," said Kazuki, frowning, looking around himself.
"We so should have taken the van," said Miyabi, pushing his sunglasses back up and leaning a shoulder against the shiny outer wall of the Chanel store.
"You cannot even drive, man," said Kazuki.
Kazuki asked a passer-by, and she pointed, but the next person he asked pointed in a completely different direction.
"I hate the world," said Miyabi, but he really didn't, caught up in noticing Kazuki's pretty eyelashes and the handsome look of concentration on his face as he studied the map.
At first it was weird to be sharing a room with someone who was cute but who he wasn't screwing. It made Miyabi feel kind of chaste and strange. Kazuki treated Miyabi like a kid brother, probably thought of him that way, too. The went to separate beds every night and talked for a while in the darkness like they were on school camp. One night, without even drinking a beer or anything, they stayed up talking like that together, like kids, until dawn.
And Kazuki wasn't boring, exactly. He wasn't the organizer, that was Sakito, but he was the one who turned up to every rehearsal ten minutes early, and never complained and never fucked up and never missed a beat or a show or a practice session. Kazuki hated getting up in the mornings, but not as much as Miyabi, who had usually been up playing guitar or partying late the night before. So when the morning rolled around, there was Kazuki with a pot of coffee, or a cup of hot coffee, or at the very least a can of hot coffee bought from the vending machine on the street near the hotel. He'd sit cross-legged on Miyabi's bed and talk and coax him with coffee until he sat up and drank some.
It occurred to Miyabi that it was the first time he had ever had anyone on his bed who only wanted to talk.
The next day it was the obligatory phone call from Sakito, who was all I miss you blah blah blah. Miyabi was twining the phone cord around his finger, and listening with minimal input to a story about how Sakito was trying to program a Due'le Quartz song into his new cell phone. Kazuki was on the other side of the room, rummaging in a drawer.
Finally, Sakito said, "So what's it like hanging out with the quiet one."
The boring one. Sakito meant the boring one.
Miyabi looked through his lashes at Kazuki.
"It's nice. He makes me coffee."
Across the room, Kazuki flipped him the bird.
"Hey," said Miyabi, reminded of something, "did you have the Fool's Mate interview yet?"
"Yeah, yeah," said Sakito.
"So what'd you say when they asked you why you ditched me for Kikasa?"
A snort of laughter. "Why--what did you say when they asked you why you ditched me for the drummer?"
"The hotel thing," lied Miyabi, sweetly. "It was Kazuki's idea."
After Miyabi hung up, Kazuki challenged him with a look. "Lying to your boyfriend," he said.
"Am I?" said Miyabi.
He didn't know why but at a bar the next night when he saw Kazuki talking quietly to a girl, it made him frown, and he grabbed his coat and went out into the street. He ended up walking and walking, braving his poor sense of direction and making his own way back to the hotel. The night was cold, but it had a sharpness to it that was just right. He kept his head down and passed a dozen or more people without registering them, walking fast.
Sakito wasn't his boyfriend. That had been grating cuteness on Kazuki's part. Sakito was just someone who he went to bed with sometimes. Sakito . . . liked to groan and toss his head whenever Miyabi made him come. Kikasa was the opposite, ice cold to hide his shyness, and vice versa, always needing to be the second one to get off.
Back at the hotel Miyabi sat down on the very edge of the very far bed, and rubbed hard at his eyes with the heels of his hands.
Soft sound of the key in the latch a while later. "Hey," said Kazuki softly. He came in alone.
"Didn't think you'd be home."
"I was worried about you."
"Wow, that's really beautiful," said Miyabi, in a tone that said fuck off.
A half grin. "I see you didn't get laid."
"Well, I'm pacing myself."
Kazuki took off his coat, and put his keys in the holder the hotel had provided by the door.
"Why do you sleep around so much?" Kazuki asked him quietly.
"Because I really, really like fucking, Kazuki," said Miyabi, deliberately, tossing his hair back.
"Sakito's been in love with you forever."
"Sakito's in love with Kika." A little glance. "Oh what, you didn't know that? Come on."
"I didn't. I'm sorry."
"What for?" Miyabi blinked at him curiously, the emotion brittle.
"Miyabi--" Kazuki began, like he was going to start something, and then he didn't, so it was just the name and it hung between them for a long, long while.
"Fuck you," said Miyabi bitterly then, rising swiftly and slamming the door behind him as he pushed out of their room.
But he didn't really know Nagoya, and somehow couldn't stomach the idea of picking up some guy. So he didn't go anywhere except outside, standing on the main street by their hotel, wrapping his arms around himself, protection against the cold.
Kazuki was asleep when he finally went back inside.
Miyabi woke on his belly with his arms wrapped around a pillow, feeling beautifully rested, drawn by the smell of coffee into the world.
"Nnmnh," he said.
"Good morning," said Kazuki.
"What time is it?"
"Um. Not morning," said Kazuki. He smiled, his basically innocent smile that was all about liking Miyabi because he was good at guitar and they had fun hanging out together, and Miyabi thought, it can be like this, it can be like this, it doesn't have to be like that between us, too.