Jiro woke slowly. He shifted in his place, but not changing his flat-on-his-belly position, to somehow avoid the light that fell across his closed eyes. He knew morning had come yet he lazed about, cheek nuzzling against the smooth pillow, thinking he ought to give himself some credit. After all, it had only been hours since he fell asleep after he and Hisashi shared a wonderful evening together.
//Hisashi.//
Just the mere thought of the guitarist's name brought a smile to Jiro's irresistible lips. He had spent the entire night rolling that same name off his tongue over and over again, as though it were a mantra, while his eyes skimmed over the serene face of a sleeping Hisashi. Jiro wondered how he could've been so lucky and blessed to have this man love him, perhaps as much as he does. When exhaustion and sleepiness conquered him, he settled comfortably beside his beloved, felicity and pride surging into him as Hisashi instinctively clamped an arm over his waist, seeking warmth, before finally snuggling into the secure cradle of Jiro's arms. In return, the bassist cuddled the fragile man tighter, wordlessly staking his claim.
And now it was morning. And he had to get up. Slowly emerging from his slumber, Jiro smiled then reached across the bed, hoping to find heat from the source of his happiness and found it empty. His forehead creased as he continued to blindly grope for the sheets, found what he was fumbling for, pulled the delicate guitarist in his arm closer and buried his face in his--pillowcase.
He opened his eyes, blinking until he could get used to the sudden surge of light.
No Hisashi.
He turned his head to the other side where Hisashi should've been and his eyes were met by a blinding flash of light. "Ack!"
Hisashi giggled. "Ohayo, Yoshi!" He made tutting sounds as he set the camera down on his lap. "I had no idea you'd be this beautiful early in the morning."
Jiro mumbled something but it was easily was snuffed out when he buried his face into the pillow Hisashi had used.
The camera ticked off another time, catching yet another Polaroid image of Jiro and sending Hisashi into a fresh wave of chuckles. "Did you know?"
Jiro sighed dreamily, returning his gaze back at Hisashi. "Know what?"
"You look so yummy sprawled on that bed, naked and all, with just a semi-balled up bedsheet to spare you from total nudity. In fact, the only thing the sheets hide are your buttocks."
"And?" Jiro urged, noticing that in contrast to his one-fourths linen and three-fourths skin, Hisashi had taken the liberty of wearing Jiro's favorite oversized soccer jersey. Hisashi had never looked more delectable.
Mischief sparkled in the guitarist's eyes. "I was thinking of sending this to every smut magazine in Japan." He fanned the photo to himself, anticipating the result.
"You'd do that?" Jiro challenged, shifting to lie on his back.
Hisashi pouted in thought. "Nah, maybe not. You know how I feel about competition. It kills me."
"Not if it gets to me first," Jiro retorted jokingly, but both were aware truth tinged it. He tried to suppress a yawn, but failed. "Isn't it a bit too early to be up?"
"Not when we've got practice. Er, just a meeting actually." Hisashi set the camera and photos down the side table and finally got up from the armchair to settle under the sheets. Jiro welcomed him as much, his arms circling the guitarist's slim waist once Hisashi had set his head on Jiro's chest. The comfort they disposed themselves into betrayed Hisashi's earlier words on the need to get ready for work.
They stayed that way for minutes, just feeling each other's warmth, listening to each other's pulse. Hisashi absently stroked the arms wound around him as Jiro warmed his hair with his breath, both basking in contentment and inexplicable bliss.
"Yoshi?"
"Hmm?"
Hisashi tilted his head aside to meet his lover's eyes. "So, does this mean we're skipping the meeting?"
"Call Takuro up and tell him I'm down with the flu."
The guitarist pouted. "You do it. You know I hate the phone."
"How can you hate it? It's what brought us together. You called me up first."
"I thought it was Ayu that brought us together."
"Yeah, him, too, among other things."
Hisashi wriggled himself to freedom to give Jiro a soft but loving kiss on the lips. Then his hand groped for the cordless phone atop the bedside table. After punching in a few numbers, he put the phone to his ear then looked back at his beloved, meeting the bassist's gaze. "Nani?"
"Hisa?"
"Hmmn?"
"Aishiteru."
"Aishiteru." The guitarist punctuated it with a smile before settling his attention back to the line that had just picked up from the other end. "Takuro?…Yeah, it's Hisashi…I can't make it to practice today, I'm sorry…I've caught the flu…Huh?…You mean Jiro?" A glance. "Yeah, well…Jiro's bound to get the same thing in a few minutes…"
"…so the next album would probably be out two months from now," Jiro replied to the young interviewer, perhaps an intern from the local newspaper.
"Sou ka," the bespectacled man replied. "I'm sure all of your fans would watch out for it."
"We do hope so," the bassist replied with that wide cheeky grin of his.
The man--Morita Shinji--looked briefly at his notebook before returning his attention to the two members of Glay. "You guys have been together for almost ten years now, and we're still counting. However, there's still this notion that you Jiro-san and Hisashi-san still hate each other. Is this true?"
"Hisashi hates me," Jiro replied, employing a matter-of-factly tone. It was concluded by a pout.
"I do not hate him," the guitarist countered in a disinterested ring, casting Jiro a quick glare. "Hate would be too strong a word anyway."
The reporter looked confused. "So how come you and Jiro-san seem to never get along well?"
"Not that we don't get along." Hisashi scratched the side of his nose then sniffed. "Jiro and I just can't seem to have a conversation whenever we're alone. I've always been quiet. Maybe Jiro respects my introvertedness so he doesn't talk to me as well."
Shinji looked at Jiro as if to ask for a confirmation. "You don't seem convinced."
"Nah. Actually it's been a puzzle ever since we got to be in one band," Jiro explained. "Hisashi seems to hate me and I never really understood why and he doesn't really tell me why anyway."
"I don't hate you," Hisashi insisted, his voice more solid now.
"Sure you do," Jiro retaliated.
"I do not!"
"Then how else would you explain what's going on between us?"
"Jiro, you know--"
"Er, gomen kudasai…" Shinji said trying and succeeding to come in between the brewing argument between the two goodlooking men. "I'd hate to break up this…uh…*discussion*…of your status but my interview time would soon be over."
"Oh," Jiro mouthed. "So, is there anything else you need to ask us or to clarify and stuff?"
"I guess I'd just need a few pictures of you together for the magazine." Shinji raised hand and motioned for the photographer to come closer. "We'd be having this article out by the next issue."
"Okay," Jiro replied while Hisashi merely nodded. "How would you want us to pose?"
"Whatever feels comfortable."
As the photographer started to set his camera, Jiro and Hisashi looked at each other. The guitarist let out a disgruntled sigh before turning to his left to have his back face Jiro. The semi-blonde man rolled his eyes heavenward before doing the same towards the opposite direction, backing up against Hisashi. Both of their faces looked grim, Hisashi appearing just a tad bit more annoyed than Jiro.
Shinji and the photographer looked questioningly at the two artists. "That's your most comfortable position?"
"It helps us get by," Jiro replied with a smirk.
Hisashi sighed impatiently. "Can we just get this done and over with?"
The reporter would've sweatdropped if he could. "Yeah, by all means…"
The photographer aimed the lens at Jiro and Hisashi, hoping to find a good angle and moment. Out of an impulsive whim, Hisashi threw his head back, settling it comfortably just at the base of Jiro's nape. In response, Jiro rested his head slightly against the back of Hisashi's head, making a cushion of the guitarist's soft blue hair.
The camera reacted to its master's flawless reflex. It was a rare moment to see the two members of Glay act rather chummy and close. It even proved to be sweet if the viewer would let his romantic side rule. Yet no matter how fast the photographer took his shots, no matter how swiftly the shutter worked, no one would ever know that comfortably, securely nestled and hidden between the back of the couch and the two bodies conveying indifference was a simple gesture of love…
Palms pressed against the other, fingers laced securely and affectionately, bonding one to the other, staking possession and claim…silently, secretly screaming their love.
The photos were to come out on the pages of the magazine by next week for the readers to see. Jiro and Hisashi vowed they'd just laugh off the feigned pissed off look on their faces for being seated close to each other. The images would spell out a thousand stories only the two of them would share and cherish. But for now, they'd just have to concentrate on the shoot…because films were being spent…flashes were dazzling bright…batteries were being drained…
And shutters worked magic.
~~ owari
17 February 2002
7:40 PM