Burdens of a Depressive Mind
Fire Angel

Disclaimer: I'll admit here that I do not own Gackt, Hyde, nor any other J-Rocker mentioned in this story, nor do I claim to know them. Their lives and actions are not mine, however, in this story I've taken them and twisted them to do my own free will. Therefore - their actions here, whilst based on things they've said in interviews and such, are not necessarily true. This is not gospel. It's fiction. Take it or leave it. ^^

Chapter 4

Two weeks’ time found me lost in the outskirts of Tokyo, trying to find and rescue Hyde, who’d become lost while attempting to navigate the busy bus system to my house for a scenario reading. (Probably too short to see the street map properly, ha ha ha.)

The night after my fateful dinner date with Mana/Hyde and Sakura, my new friend and I met as agreed at a local pub, shouted each other several drinks, negotiated (and later bickered over) key story ideas, got completely pissed, and, ultimately, decided that the two of us would star in this movie, ‘Moon’, together. When Hyde had staggered out of the shared taxi at two a.m., I’d yelled drunkenly after him, “Call me, gorgeous, and we can get together sometime!”

“Absa-fucking-lutely, darling!” he’d called back and blown me a winking kiss before collapsing in a smashed heap on the footpath and being dragged inside by his helpful (and beautiful) wife.

The next day on the phone we confirmed (in a grumbly, hungover sort of way) that we’d meet in a fortnight so we could read through a portion of the scenario together. (It wasn’t quite the plan my horny, drunken brain had laid out when I was sitting next to him in the taxi, whispering seductive words in his ear as he giggled and playfully batted me away…… But he’d agreed to star in my movie and for now, that was enough – I supposed.) When I asked Hyde where we should meet, he said, “Gacchan’s house.”

That fortnight, for me, had been spent in the company of various other friends – You, who was dying to know when the threesome was happening and Leehom, whom I’d managed to con into playing the token Taiwanese guy in my (and now Hyde’s) movie during his last day in Japan – and also Hyde’s management, who’d wanted to go over the painstakingly small details of his contract before I’d even properly worked it out.

The weeks flew and before I knew it, Hyde was phoning me from his keitai and muttering embarrassedly, “Gach-chan… I’m not really sure where I am.”

Hence the reason I was now out in the wind and rain, quite possibly destroying the leathered backseat of my roofless car, not to mention my hair and makeup.

I lie. The rain wasn’t that bad, not really. I was just grumpy because Hyde’s sense of direction was shocking and had promptly gotten me lost too, even though I was constantly chatting to him on my own keitai.

“I’m looking at a street map,” he would tell me calmly, “and if you’re on Nikken like you say, then you have to take a right at the lights when you see the next department store.”

“Hyde,” I’d ask in reply, “is that right when I see the depaato, right when I get to the depaato, or the first right after the depaato?”

“Ummm…” he’d mutter helplessly for several minutes, then yell suddenly, “oh, oh – when you get there!!” by which point I was already three streets past the department store in question and wondering where in Hell I was.

Our original intention had been to meet late afternoon so Hyde could be heading back home without fear of getting lynched or mobbed in the late hours of night. But by the time I found him huddled up at a bus stop, the late hours of night had passed into the later hours of night (A.K.A. 10:30 p.m.), and by my reckoning he was lucky to still be alive and or in possession of all his material wealth.

“Bye hi,” he laughed in English as I pulled up alongside him, hanging up my phone at the same time as he did. “How are yuuu?”

“Good thanks,” I replied in Japanese, not willing to massacre our second language after such a perfect display of it on his behalf. “And you?”

“Meccha genki da yo,” he said cheerily, slipping into Kansai-ben that, most likely, could not be understood by any of the seventy thousand Tokyojin walking past at the time. “Sorry I got you lost, Gacchan.”

Surprisingly, I found myself laughing, whereas thirty minutes before I’d been steamed. “No problem. I’ll forgive you this time, Hyde-chan. Get in, ne?”

I’ve learnt since then – Hyde’s warm smile and cheerful nature only ever brought out the best in my persona. It was almost as if I couldn’t physically be angry when I was talking to him.

He made me happy.

And that, I realised then, was what really worried me about the weird, sudden friendship I shared with the guy.

When we arrived back at my house, cold and just a little damp, Hyde’s first words were something along the lines of: “What the fucking fuck is this?!”

I coloured a little, realising then that I’d forgotten to tell him that I was a creature of the night, preferring candlelight and arrow-slit windows over electric light and/or extreme sunlight, and black, red and white décor over the bright colours decorating the homes of some (or most) other people. Oops. In embarrassment, I lowered my head until I was staring at the floor, waiting for my idol to shoot the words “fucking weird freak” at me.

But instead, Hyde asked in surprise and something akin to horror, “Where do I put my shoes?!” and I realised that he wasn’t fussed with the décor so much as the fact I didn’t have a traditional Japanese entranceway, and no, there was no shoe rack, no step to hide shoes underneath, and no slippers waiting conveniently nearby for myself and my guests.

I couldn’t help myself. I started giggling at him, and then at the blush of embarrassment that spread up his cheeks in the dim candlelight. “Hyde-chan,” I told him in between smothered guffaws, “you’re simply so adorable…”

“Shut up,” he grumbled, kicking off his shoes and leaving them against the wall so he could retrieve them on the way out. “Just because you’re not normal…… Why is it so dark in here anyway?”

“I don’t like electric lights,” I explained, “they hurt my eyes. Most days I just rely on candlelight.”

“Candlelight?” he asked sarcastically, gesturing around the small room at my miniature wall sconces. “For all the light these are giving off, Gacchan, you may as well just live in total darkness.”

“We can try that if you like,” I suggested cheerily. Before he could argue, I’d leaned across and capped out each of the small flames, leaving us cloaked in a thick shroud of pitch black that swallowed us and left us blind.

“He-hey!” Hyde protested loudly. “I can’t see anything!”

“As I was saying, candlelight is, in my opinion, a nice contrast to total blackness,” I chattered. “While the room may have seemed dim to you, in truth actually it was quite bright, as I’m sure you can see now.”

I grinned, seeing the outline of my friend’s head as it swivelled grumpily towards the sound of my voice. “Didn’t I just say that I can’t see anything, Gackt?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Who cares what you meant? I’m standing in a dark room with a gay man!”

“What are you implying?” I asked lazily, not bothering to point out that I was actually bisexual, as opposed to homosexual. “That you want said man to fuck you against that wall there?”

“What wall?” he asked pointedly. “I can’t fucking see any wall!” Then a mental light bulb switched on and he cried belatedly, “No! No, I don’t want that!”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positively.”

“Oh well,” I shrugged nonchalantly. (I’d get him eventually.) “In that case, let’s go to my room.”

Hyde sighed. “It was the fuck I was arguing about, Gacchan, not the wall.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, knowing however that he couldn’t see it. Then I laughed to make my ‘you’re an idiot’ point clear. “Hyde, my computer in my room,” I said slowly, using only keywords, as if I were talking to a kid or something. “Need computer for scenario reading. Saa… ikkou da yo.”

“…Oh.”

I snickered out loud, knowing that by now he was blushing. “You’re so cute, Hyde-chan.”

“Shut up, Gacchan.”

We headed upstairs, me laughing as Hyde stumbled in the dim light every now and then, him cussing and cursing at me for not installing enough electric lighting to flood a large stadium at night (if not, he added, two stadiums) so that he could actually see instead of wandering around blindly in the dark. I found it hard to believe he could see nothing, after all my own vision had adapted quickly to the lack of light, but he was maintaining – sulkily, I might add – that he couldn’t see even his own nose.

Needless to say, our trip up the stairs was a fairly long one.

“I want to cry,” he said at one point after a particularly hard fall. He sat on the edge of the step in question, pouting up in my general direction, his contact-less eyes looking huge in the darkened stairwell. “Gacchan, please turn on the lights.”

“I keep telling you, I don’t have any,” I replied gently, trotting back down the stairs to help him to his feet. He braced himself against my chest, pouting some more. “This is the most light I can provide you here.”

Hyde pouted deeper and grumbled something incomprehensible. We continued up the stairs and repeated the same process about three seconds later.

I thanked my lucky stars then that this was not the two of us trying to access my bed for sexual pleasures. Talk about killing any libido that would’ve been hanging around.

(Although… Hyde’s pouting face was pretty damn sexy.)

My bedroom itself was known amongst my friends for its unspoken ability to reduce even the most hormonally-deficient person to a steaming puddle of arousal. Black walls, red carpet, lush dark red décor, a huge bed fit for a king or queen (scientifically and sexually proven to hold approximately seven naked bodies at any one time), red roses scattered about here and there, a glass wall leading to a white-tiled room containing a massage table and a love heart-shaped spa bath… Add to that the romantic, flickering light provided by the candle-holding wall sconces and the soft smell of rose incense, and the room spoke a single word: S.E.fucking.X..

Therefore, as I (eventually) strolled in comfortably and confidently, peeling my jacket slowly from my shoulders in a move I hoped looked incredibly erotic, I expected Hyde to be irretrievably melting into hormonal bliss against the black doorframe, just as any normal human being would be. And as I leisurely unbuttoned the top buttons of my shirt to give myself a little more air and (more importantly) reveal some bronzed skin, I expected him to be hard, horny, and just about ready to fucked to high Heaven.

However.

When I turned around to face my friend, idol, and lust object, it was to the disappointedly chaste sight of him shrugging off his own jacket and looking around the room in mild interest, mild approval, not even a glimmer of arousal in those brown eyes.

He turned to me and smiled. “Nice room you’ve got here, Gacchan,” he mentioned in about the same tone that you’d comment on a friend’s new haircut.

In my resulting pissed-off state, I cruelly made him read his part of the scenario from a printed page (in a dark room, ha ha), while I myself used my laptop.

Revenge. After Hyde and also sex (or sex-with-Hyde, rather), it’s quite possibly the most magnificent invention ever.

Some six hours later, the scenario was well and truly read, and Hyde and I were collapsed in a companionable, semi-drunken, semi-tired heap on my bed, continuously pouring each other new shot glasses of sake, continuously making toasts that had started out normally and were now becoming irretrievably stupid.

“To Gacchan and his incredible movie scenario,” Hyde had said with a warm smile when I prompted him to make the first toast. “I was worried at first, but I’m looking forward to playing Kei’s role now, because you’ve been so gentle with me – and your scenario looks like fun too, ne.” (“Aww, thanks, Hyde-chan,” I’d gushed as we’d cleaned out our glasses.)

“To Hyde,” I’d proposed next, “whose gentle voice and smile will be perfect to play Kei.” (He’d smiled thankfully at me, and we’d drained our second glass.)

“To the hope that someone will come along and change the décor of this blasted house.” (“Why?” I’d teased then. “Is the red not helping your hormones?”)

“To candles.” (“Oh good Lord.”)

“To electric light.” (“Candles! Candles da yo!!”)

“To the hope that I can someday convince Hyde-chan to have sex with me,” I’d said, only half-jokingly. (*sigh*)

“To flying pigs,” he’d replied with a warm, teasing smile. (“……Hey!”)

“To… alcohol.” (“Mmm.”)

“To Zippo lighters!” (“Why Zippo lighters?”)

“To 100 yen lighters!” (“Yeah, thaaaat’s better, Hyde-chan. Zippo lighters are too too hot, ne.”)

“To 100 yen shops!” (“And cheap purikura,” Hyde offered with a giggle.)

“To purikura!” (“Purikura ne… sou yo!”)

“To Shingo Mama!” (“Yeaaah Shingo Mama’s the coolest, ne?!”)

“To… England’s Manchester United!” (“Well, David Beckham iiiiiiis pretty cute…”)

“To Sailor Moon!” (“E…?”)

“Pokémon!”

“Racing cars!”

“Biohazard!”

“Billiards!”

“Card games!”

“Random roots!”

“Scary stories!”

“Candles!” (“Hey, didn’t you say that last one already?”)

“Yeah, I did, can I have another go?” (“No.”)

“To… ME!” Hyde yelled, flopping back into the pillows with a delighted laugh as he drained his last glass, before tossing it uselessly aside. “Ahhh…”

“I’ll drink to that,” I said, and did.

Then, placing my glass carefully on the bedside table, I laid down next to him, smiling sleepily and dopily, but happily too. “You’re beautiful, Hyde-chan,” I drawled, “have I ever told you that?”

He grinned widely, showing all of his white, crooked teeth. “No,” he laughed, “no you haven’t. But……… I knew so anyway, ne.”

“Hyde-chan, it’s not good to have such an ego,” I berated him, laughing too. “Someday, someone may say you’re ugly and you’ll feel depressed.”

“But I’m not ugly,” he said, not being egotistical as such, just knowing his good points and happily (albeit drunkenly) telling me about them. “I’m cute. I know that.”

“Are you sure? Maybe I think you’re ugly.”

“Aha, but you just told me that I’m beautiful.”

“………Fuck.”

He laughed. “It’s okay, Gacchan. After all, you’re pretty too, you know.”

“I… am?” Hyde thought I was pretty? I could feel another fangirlish moment coming on, but quelled it. Not here. Not when I could possibly get laid. After all… we were drunk… we were lying together on my bed…

“Yeeeeaaaaaaaaaah,” he drawled, interrupting my kinky sex-related thoughts. “Of course. Gacchan is perfect-looking.”

“No, no, not perfect,” I blushed. “I can think only of one perfect person in this world… and it’s not me.”

“Who?” he asked curiously, wriggling closer to me (conspiratorially more than anything else), his huge brown eyes blinking lazily as he watched me. Through my drunken, hazy eyes he looked like a painted picture of beauty. And he was coming closer. “Who is this… perfect person…?”

Was he asking for trouble?

Reaching out, I lazily pulled him towards me, encircling him in my arms and muttering in his ear, “You are the perfect person, Hyde.”

He looked up in surprise. “Me? No…”

“Yes, yes. You’re sweet and kind… and so pretty, ne. So pretty that even straight men love you.”

“Gacchan…”

“It’s true yo. It is,” I said when he started to shake his head. “Don’t disagree, I tell the truth. You’re perfect.”

(He was not getting the hint.)

“………Hyde-chan,” I asked in frustration as he shifted against me (his modesty was uncomfortable with my truthful, gushing comments), his pelvis grating mine and making me instantly hard, “how do you feel about men?”

“Male/male relationships, you mean? They don’t bother me, as such. Sakura’s been seeing Ken-chan for a while now, you know.”

“Sakura and Ken?!” I asked in surprise and disbelief. Then, half-jokingly, I added, “But I thought you were seeing Sakura!”

“No,” he laughed, “unfortunately. I’ve always had a huge crush on him, ne… dakedo… he preferred Ken-chan. Pity. He’s got a really cute smile. And,” he added in a secretive whisper, “I hear from Ken-chan that he’s awfully well endowed.”

Well he’s not the only one, I thought, slightly more viciously than I’d intended.

“Hyde-chan,” I said, lighting my face with a smile instead, “You know… I never expected that you would be gay… ne. Not being married and all.”

“I’m not gay… really,” he said with a little shrug, smiling widely at me. “I just… like… who I like, that’s all. It’s not about man or woman, woman or man, it’s… attraction, ne. Maybe,” he mused, “I am the type to be named as – bisexual?”

“Bisexual. Yes. Me too.”

“What’s say then,” he suggested, wriggling out of my arms and looking drunkenly around for the sake bottle, “we make another toast?”

“A toast to what?” I laughed, sitting back up alongside him and squinting around the dark room.

“Bisexuality,” he sung in a silly voice.

“But there’s no sake left…”

“What? None?!”

“None.” I pouted, and Hyde pouted back, his lower lip jutting out and making him look childish and innocent, but smoulderingly sexy at the same time, and…

I smiled. “No sake ne… saa… let’s make a toast anyway.”

“Can we?”

“Yep.”

“How?”

“I’ll show you.”

Hyde started giggling. “Gacchan, you’re weird, ne…”

He looked like he was planning to say something else. But as I leaned closer to him, stroking my hand across his chest and playing with the thin black material of his shirt, his mouth gaped open for a second and then slammed shut again, his huge brown eyes watching my every move.

“To bisexuality,” I murmured. “……Do you mind?”

Hyde shook his head with a slight smile, tweaking an eyebrow at me, as if daring me to go further. “Not at all, Gacchan, not at all.”

Is that a dare, Hyde-chan?? Because I won’t back down you know. Carefully, I slipped a hand in between shirt buttons to touch warm skin. “Do you mind, Hyde-chan?”

He shook his head. Is that the best you can do, Gackt? “No. Do your worst.”

Ahh, it is a dare, then. With my free hand, I slowly undid the buttons of the shirt until it was lying open around him, leaving his pale chest completely bare. I smiled slightly, moving my palms in long, slow, caressing circles over his skin, whispering hotly, “What about this? Do you mind, Hyde-chan?”

His voice wavered. “N-no…”

Who’s winning, Hyde-chan? “And this?” I hissed, exchanging my wandering hands for kissing lips and a teasing tongue, chuckling as he groaned aloud. “Do you mind?”

“Fuck, Gacchan…”

“Do you mind?” I pressed, pausing my torture to look up at him, my eyes alight and, I knew, predatorily alert.

“N-No!”

“Saa… I suppose, then,” I harassed, “you won’t mind… this?”

Lightning-fast, I slipped my hand between his legs and closed it over his groin, squeezing hard and stroking slowly in a single smooth movement that had him gasping in a mix of pain and pleasure.

He was hard. He wanted me.

I could’ve cried for joy.

“Tease,” Hyde grated then, suddenly using his leg to throw me over onto my back before straddling himself over me, leaning down so our faces were almost touching. He smiled as my eyes widened in surprise. “Are you afraid, Gacchan?” he hissed softly, his panting breath mingling sweetly with mine. His eyes were glinting, and beads of sweat sparkled on his brow.

“No,” I panted back, “more interested actually. I didn’t take you for the dominant type.”

“Hmmm… no one ever does,” he admitted with a light laugh. “I’m just little, innocent old Hyde. That’s me. And,” he added dirtily, his voice lowering to a sexy whisper, “this innocent little sub-dominant is going to fuck you until you scream for mercy, Gacchan.”

What the Hell happened? I wondered silently as Hyde’s lips came firmly down on mine. Usually I was the seducer. Until a minute ago, I had been. And now I was the seduced. Not that I particularly minded, I realised. In fact, I didn’t mind at all. Hyde’s lips were locked with mine in a steamy, mind-blowing, warp-factoring kiss; his tongue was inside my mouth; his hips were driving forward to stroke and grind his pelvis against mine and oh my God oh my God oh my God if it went on for too much longer I was going to come before he’d even properly started. My mind was swirling, and my body was tingling, and I could hear myself crying out loud for him to stop and keep going, all at the same time…

“How are you feeling, Gacchan?” Hyde breathed in my ear, his hentai hands busily working at the front of my shirt, trying to free my body of it. “Are you feeling fine?”

I nodded, lost for words. He was better at this than me.

“Come on, Gacchan,” he cajoled teasingly. His lips trailed in a wet, hot line from my lips to my throat and deployed passionate, sucking kisses across my jugular. “Talk to me. Are you feeling fine?”

“Ha… hai…”

“That’s better, ne,” he mused thoughtfully. Slowly, he dug his hips in against mine, peeling my shirt from my shoulders at the same time. I shamelessly groaned aloud, and he chuckled slightly. “Are you feeling good, Gacchan?”

“Aahh…… hai, hai…”

“Uh-huh. Do you feel good?” Hyde asked, changing his question just a little, his hands wandering down my front and toying mindlessly with my belly button for a few moments before scrolling down to the front of my pants. He grinned. “Ooh, yes you do,” he laughed, pulling his mouth away from my neck and focusing all his attentions on massaging me through the material of my pants. I made a collection of sounds that were possibly too strangled to be documented here, and he laughed some more. “Gacchan, Gacchan, you have to answer me, ne… do you feel good?” he whispered hotly, leaning his mouth down to my ear and licking slowly around its shell. “Do you feel good, Gacchan?”

Somehow, I managed to pull one brain cell from its orbit around my currently-being-pleasured balls for long enough to gasp helplessly, “Haaai…”

“Good, good,” he laughed into my ear before raising his head again and glancing around, almost as if he were afraid someone were going to walk in on us. Then he looked back at me, and, with a wicked grin, wedged his leg between both of mine until I was being massaged by both hands and knee, being kissed and seduced by his pouting red lips and delectable tongue. “Does it feel good, Gacchan?” he hissed then, once again morphing his sentence only by one or two words. “Does it feel good?”

“Unh… e… sou doesu…”

“It does?”

“Yes…”

“Are you sure?” he murmured, digging in his knee a little harder, pressing down heavily with his hands, until my eyes were bulging, and my breath was ragged and almost non-existent even as I screeched his name in a mix of pain and pleasure. “I think,” he mused with glinting eyes, lowering his face so his lips brushed mine as he talked, “that it feels better than good, Gach-chan. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“…Hai, hai…”

“You would?”

“H-hai!”

“Good.” Hyde grinned barbarically and pressed his lips to mine. “I think I can make you come…… easily,” he whispered dirtily. “Let’s try, Gacchan? Okay?”

“Uhh… uhh…”

“Scream for me, Gacchan… Don’t be afraid.”

Oh my God oh my God oh my God oh my God…

I could hardly breathe. Even as Hyde descended over my body and started working his hands over the zipper of my pants, the only thing that I could think of was the fact that I was shortly going to die, lacking oxygen, and also, lacking blood to both brain and heart, as I was pretty sure every drop of it was either in my penis, or very quickly making its way there. (My cock, needless to say, was feeling extremely happy, extremely bloated – and also extremely needy for both more pleasure and a quick release.)

But at least if I died, I reasoned, I’d die in the midst of pre-orgasmic bliss, with the world’s hugest smile on my face.

After all – this was a dream of ten whole years. My dream. And… it was finally coming true.