Oneshot: Gemini

[andrew_in_drag]

Title: Gemini
Author: andrew_in_drag
Pairing: Aoi/Uruha
Rating: R
Warnings: slash, hints of some casting couch realness
Synopsis: "Promise that you'll trust me, and I'll try to do the same."

Gemini

I know it's getting late, but I think we have to walk.

The taxis that keep passing us are turning their lights off.

In a few hours it'll be morning again, another Saturday, and I'll wonder how we got here. Your cold apartment; your pretty face.

You've got black coffee eyes. Keeps me up all night.

“What are you doing?”

A party in a rich guy's house and I'm hanging around out outside some swanky guest bedroom, both our jackets in my arms and Reita standing confused in front of me.

“I'm waiting for Uruha,” I say.

“Oh.” His tone is so resigned and even. “Why?”

I shrug.

“I always wait for Uruha.”

You're skinny like a model, and it's a cold night but you're warm.

I can see it on your pale face, sweat on your brow; I can feel it on your skin.

Our shadows grow and stretch, grow and stretch as we pass under the street lights. Our footsteps ring frozen over the pavements and I make a game out of the light, positioning myself so our shadows hold hands and kiss.

Like my dreams, we are connected. Siamese twins at the wrist; at the lips.

“What's it like?”

“What's what like?”

“Surfing.”

“...It's like standing up, only on a board in the ocean.”

You brushed away my sarcasm like dust.

“You're not going to say it's like flying, or anything?”

This is your strange sense of humour.

“No, because it isn't like flying. If anything, it's more like falling. That's how you always end up; even if you ride it through to the end you always fall when the wave's run through.”

“Isn't that annoying?”

“Not really.”

You were sitting next to me, your heart beating against my side, and I felt your smile on my cheek.

You whispered, “Let's pretend this couch is the ocean and we'll never, ever see each other again.”

In the summer, your place is full of blue sky. In the dark, the glow of the street lights make puddles of orange on the floor, and that's where we go to lie and sink and dream.

The light in the winter is so cold. The sun starts to come up as you tear off another day from the calendar on your wall; November 30^th to December 1^st, and just one month left of 2002 now. You're edged in white like someone drew you, a chalk outline against your own dark walls, and I want to kiss you but you push my guitar into my hands.

“Who was it tonight?”

You turn your pale face away from mine and I catch you half in shadow.

I always think it should be quiet, but it's not. There's a million things going on around us; people on the street and cars on the road and sirens and trains and aeroplanes overhead: the song of the city. You shake your head in the dawn light and it's part of the song too, accidental beauty, like a gasoline rainbow.

“Promise that you'll trust me,” you say, “And I'll try to do the same.”

I can't hear the calm for the chaos in your voice.

We're the afterlife of the party and our eyes are painted black.

You're pushing me gently to the hardwood floor. I'm touching your hair, tucking it behind your ear and watching the colour bleed back into you; your eyes, your cheeks, your lips.

In the grey light you're a statue full of turning forms, something more to discover every time I look; the curve of your neck and the fullness of your lips, the chipped stone of your hips, the white skin inside of your wrist that I can't stop kissing. Your pulse jumps against me, and you laugh breathily as your hand slips under my shirt.

Everything that's so complicated in the night gets so simple in the daytime.

You push my guitar into my hands again. It's 8:30am, December 1^st, 2002.

Our bodies are hot in the cold light. Two boys, two guitars; joined together, siamese twins.

“Let's get famous,” you say, and your fingers fly over the strings. I don't know it so well, but I'm with you, and when I'm with you I play along and everything, along the way, seems to fall into place.

You play with control. You play with clear, clean chords and you make it all look so easy.

I play with my form wrong and my fingers crooked and the notes are messy, blurry. But we play it through to the end, all the same.

You kiss me again, touch me again. I settle on the floor between your legs, ease down your jeans, take your cock in my hand.

You are so beautiful is on the tip of my tongue, and I push the words against your skin.

I read forever in the span of your fingers.

I'm dark, you're light.

I'm pierced, you're not.

I'm messy, you're neat.

Siamese twins, joined at the guitar.

Together sounds better.

A/N: This started off as a drug-centric, no-light-at-the-end-of-the-tunnel fic about Die and Kyo. It ended up as a casting couch fic about Aoi and Uruha, who somehow inspired hope at the end.

But I really enjoyed writing this, because I feel like parts of it have been straining at my mind for days. Maybe I should do one for every zodiac sign (I'm half kidding. But only half).