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Luna |
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A J-rock Fan Fiction Archive |
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I spend a
lot of nights in like this, Kohta and I both like the same kind of movies, we
like them scary as they get but most of the others seem to like corny romance
films, guy meets girl and awww it’s love! Pathetic if you ask me. Aren’t we
meant to be a rock band, going out, doing drugs all that sort of thing. Well,
first off on the drugs thing, the Japanese government are too tight on drugs,
all we get is a lot of e and speed, nothing quality and to be honest I’d
rather not anyway, I’m perfectly happy with my life like this, even if I am
just some sad thirty year old man with a childish dream of a rock band. I think
too much, even watching this film I can’t stop considering things, the little
things people do. The film we’re watching is about some guy who thinks he’s
going to be killed, it’s all in his head though, but he keeps doing bad
things to himself and not remembering, he’s standing at the stairs, thinking
someone’s behind him and my phone goes off. Kohta continues to watch intently
as I take the phone out of my pocket, flip it open and read illuminated
screen, it’s from Kirito, I wonder where he is right now at, oh it’s 3am
already, I suppose Kohta and I have watched a lot of movies. I nudged
Kohta, I was a little worried, Kirito didn’t normally do stuff like this when
he was drunk, maybe someone else had his phone. “Kohta,” I said, sounding
kind of urgent but it was like he was totally vacant as he stared at the
screen. He still didn’t move, come on Kohta, I want to know how Kirito
thinks, surely Kohta’s worked it out by now, Kirito is his brother. I
switched the TV set off, after all this is my house. “Kohta,” I said in a
thoughtful way, he snapped around looking at me. “Why’d
you turn the TV off?” He asked with the air of a sulking eight year
old. “Fuck
knows.” Kohta said, seemingly totally oblivious to my panic, “Just drunk, I
guess.” Great, I thought, just great, so I’m just being melodramatic am I?
and Kirito always looks at me in that odd way. “Turn the TV back on.” Kohta
moaned. I did as he asked then sunk back into though, what do I do? Without
inspiration I sent him a text message back, “Exactly how pissed are you?” I
waited, hoping he’d give me a sort of useful answer though he was drunk so
the only thing that suggested he would was that his guard was down, I could
probably even asked me to tell me the length of his cock to the millimetre,
as he probably knew it. The reply
came and almost totally unaware of Kohta and the film now, I flicked it open
instantly, it read “fucking fucked fucked up as fuck on vodka how do u like
that luv kirito.” Nice, very charming drunk you are, I can really see why you
said you loved me last time, really. “I hope
your not egging him on,” Kohta remarked, so he is paying attention, I thought
a little taken aback. “He’s a really obnoxious drunk.” He didn’t even turn to
look at me but the thought was there. “No, I
just asked how drunk he was, wish I hadn’t now though.” I said truthfully,
Kohta really seemed to be enjoying watching the rather psychopathic, confused
character run into people he would later kill, forget about killing and then
upon discovery of what he had done, I got back to the task in hand and began
to compose a message to Kirito, “Fucking hell Kirito watch out you don’t wake
up next to a cow or a woman.” I chuckled lightly to myself, Kirito was openly
gay and seemed a little afraid of women at times, in fact he normally only
socialised inside the band though he was pretty extroverted I guess he found
familiar faces comforting. I sent my message and sat back watching the
character in the film heading up to some old woman’s house ready to open a
hole in her gut and twist her cat’s neck until it snapped. I didn’t
really feel like watching it right now anyway but Kohta seemed to be enjoying
it. I closed my phone and slid it into my pocket though I knew in a few
minutes it would probably start buzzing and ringing again with some kind of
awful retort from Kirito. I excused myself from the room anyway, and headed
to the bathroom, I didn’t need the bathroom, just the glaring over-bright
light that every bathroom offered which from some reason I liked. My phone
went off half way there, but I waited until I was in my tiny bathroom, sat
down on the toilet with the lid down before I read it, calmly and
collectedly. The
message read, “no i wanna bum u” my first reaction was to blink and reread it
but it still read, “no i wanna bum u” so I decided my eyesight wasn’t failing
me after all, unless it was the bright lights. I laughed, I was in denial it
did really say “no i wanna bum u” and I really didn’t know how to reply. I
mean how often does one of your long term friends tell you – well send you a
message that says – they want to have sex with you up the ass, not very often
I’ll bet. I was
more than a little confused, my wonderful, drunk, gay friend who happens to
be the vocalist of my band first sends me a message saying he loves me, then
describes his drunken state then says he wants to have gay sex with me, oh
well at least he didn’t add something like ‘good and hard baby’ or ‘all night
fucking long’ that would have been marginally worse. I decided
a simple reply would be the most effective and replied, “I’m not fucking
gay.” Okay, so maybe I didn’t need the ‘fucking’ in there but it just seemed
appropriate at the time. So I left the bathroom, and walked back to see the
psychopath character awakening after the murders of the old lady and her cat
and finding his clothes covered in blood. I sat down next to Kohta. “Where
did you go?” he asked, still not turning away even though there wasn’t much
action in this bit, “Did he dump you so you had to go cry?” he teased,
jokingly. “Nah,” I
said acting calmly, “Just sent me a text saying he wanted to fuck me up the
ass, the way you do.” I was quite serious in the way I said this but Kohta
looked at me shocked. “What?
What did you say?” I was quite surprised and Kohta’s shocked reaction, like
he knew something I didn’t. I paused,
“Just that I wasn’t gay.” I said wondering just why Kohta was only effected
by this now, was it some kind of Murata family ritual asking the ones you
love to have bum sex with you, like a marriage proposal except without the
rings to prove it, just semi-permanent aching from the ass down. It actually
seemed likely to me, their family was pretty odd. Neither
of us spoke again, he just went back to staring at the screen as the
character returned to the house to find the bodies of those he had murdered
and wept the way they only do in really old films and I wondered if that
guy’s friends had ever asked him to have anal sex with them but then, he was
his only friend so I wondered at the sexual possibilities of that for a
moment before making myself stop because if I kept on like this I’d probably
end up some sick pervert who only saw the sexual side of everything like the
old woman’s body he was weeping over, he could have some fun with her if only
he loosened up. I bit my
lower lip, trying to move on. I looked at Kohta, I wondered what he was
thinking, oh the nights we spent alone together, never speaking, it could so
easily have been a trashy romance novel if we didn’t have our movies and it
could so easily become one because look at us, we are both pretty attractive,
lonely, young, so why didn’t I have a bit of ass sex with his elder brother,
at least it would make life more interesting. I stopped myself and stared at
the screen wondering if Kirito saw things like that, wondering what Kirito
was seeing right now, probably imagining how good it would feel shoving his
dick up my ass and making me moan more in pain than pleasure but hey, I could
be a masochist I just haven’t explored that avenue yet. “Kohta,”
I said in an attempt to distract myself, “Has Kirito always been gay?” women
love Kirito far more than they love me, he ought to be straight, he’d have
such fun but he probably just wanted to make himself miserable by being
picky. Kohta didn’t turn away from the TV screen this time but he answered. “Uh, he
had a couple of girlfriends in High School, guess it just didn’t work out.”
He said and shrugged, watching the man leave the house and drive out of town
to the ocean because… I considered Kohta’s answer, he’d been straight but
obviously something had goon wrong, poor Kirito. I wonder what it’d be like
being gay, especially if you had a little brother you were meant to set a
good example for, well, I guess he hadn’t effected Kohta at all really, Kohta
was pretty normal compared to his brother even with his general habits. I
wondered if Kirito had told his parents, even if he hadn’t they’d have read
about it by now from some old interview. Now that
I was thinking about it though I didn’t mind the idea of Kirito loving me or
the idea of Kirito shoving his cock hard and fast up my asshole until it
bleed. I didn’t mind the idea of having his hands caress me in a loving way.
I didn’t mind the idea of any of it, even having his cock in my mouth seemed
as if it could almost be a pleasant experience. The idea of waking up with
him and being able to run my fingers through his hair and, the man in the
film threw himself off the edge of a cliff and into the ocean, I wouldn’t
mind doing something like that for love, it’d be cute, even though I’d be
dead. I blinked
and did a double take, “Sure.” Was all I said, I was a little dumbstruck
‘cause I was thinking of another guy like that. “Hey Kohta, how serious is
Kirito when he’s drunk?” I asked, trying to sound a little indifferent. Kohta
shrugged, “I wouldn’t know. You want a beer?” “No
thanks,” then I realised he was offering me one of my own beers, but what did
it matter anyway, it wasn’t like I’d die from alcohol deprivation were I to
run out. Kohta and
I watched one more film and he had another beer before leaving and driving
himself home with me totally unconcerned that he was unfit to drive because
I’d become besotted with the idea of me and his brother getting down and
dirty just about anywhere. I wanted that close psychical contact so badly I’d
almost kissed Kohta as we said our goodbyes at the door only convincing
myself not to because his brother probably wouldn’t approve and Kirito was
the one I wanted. It was a
whole week before our next band practice and I went to bed longing for Kirito
and envisioning hours of sexual play and stroking and touching and kissing
and I needed to sleep, I was delusional. I slept, eventually convincing
myself Kirito wouldn’t want to see me wrecked and tired unless it was after
one of our sex fests and that we could probably have one tomorrow if I was
feeling up to it which I wouldn’t be if I didn’t sleep. I didn’t
see him the next day, I didn’t want to call him, I thought he would call me
because to be honest I’d always thought he’d be the man in the relationship
as I was inexperienced and shy. The closest I’d ever got to a guy was a very
drunken truth or dare kiss at a teenage party. I needed Kirito though. I
looked back through old pictures of the band in magazines, he was faultlessly
beautiful, even without of all the make up. I wanted him so bad. The truth
is, I didn’t see or talk to him all week until band practice, I thought I’d
offended him or something. At practice I just stared at him until at the end
and before he left I called out, “Wait!” I wasn’t sure what I was doing but I
wanted him. “Kirito, I want to talk to you.” I swallowed but he waited in an
obedient fashion until everyone else left and I said to him, “You know those
text messages the other day?” I asked, looking at him all doe-eyed. “They
don’t mean anything,” Kirito said with a laugh, it wasn’t even nervous, “I
was just drunk.” He said bluntly. “But?” I
put in hopelessly. “Like you
said, you’re not fucking gay.” Kirito said, and then he said again, “And I
was just drunk.” “And you
don’t…” I began again. “I don’t
love you and I don’t want to fuck your brains out.” Kirito smiled at me in a
sort of, now isn’t that much better for all involved. “I was just drunk, I
didn’t mean any of it. Get over it.” I was
confused and hurt, yet I wasn’t surprised, Kirito walked away and I was left
crying like the woman who gets left with the children and no job to support
them after a brake up, Kirito left me feeling fucking gay and like I’d been
fucked up the ass by one of my guitars rather than him, hey maybe I could try
that, at least it would be action. |