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Fighting Spirit!

By: yokozuki
folder J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop › Malice Mizer
Rating: Adult +
Chapters: 1
Views: 1,541
Reviews: 3
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Malice Mizer. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Fighting Spirit!

~~~This is a work of fanfiction. I do not own, have any association with, or any claim to Gackt or any other former members of Malice Mizer. This is only for fun, and only happened in my imagination. If you're Gackt, Mana, Kozi, or Yu~ki - hi! Just drop me a line, and I'll delete this piece of crap, no problem.~~~


Fighting Spirit!

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"Stop, stop." Mana's voice was sharp and raspy from a day of shouting over taped music. "Gackt... go smoke. Outside. Soak your head, take some Valium, something. Anything."

Ah, and he thought had been doing so well this morning. Gackt shook his head, but obeyed calmly enough, walking from the room while the others gathered around Mana and the choreographer for a whispered conference. It had taken him two weeks to get this far, three-fourths of the way through the show without a single mistake that he could recall.

He turned into the long hall that led to the back of the building, long fake ponytail swaying. This was the first day they'd worn the elaborate costumes, designed by Mana months ago and sewn in some Korean sweatshop last week; he had a feeling that if he went to the front of the building, where they normally smoked outside, he'd draw a crowd - and Mana would have his head. Though, decapitation might not be all bad, if it ended his recent headaches.

For days, certain points in the choreography had completely thrown him. Mana's eyebrow would twitch in anticipation of having to call a halt for the third time in fifteen minutes, as Kozi slid behind Gackt to breathe his way slowly down the side of Gackt's neck... and Gackt jumped away with a yelp. At least after the fourth time he had managed to halt his reflex to elbow the other man in the gut.

Two songs later, it became worse. Mana would walk up in his kitten heels, a vision of calculated femininity - truly a beautiful mindfuck. Despite the distancing of Mana's humanity from his image, there was always something sensual whispering around the edges of his movements, a wicked intent in his eyes... and even after several months of exposure, Gackt fell for it every time. Mana's gaze locked onto his and shivers ran through his body. No way around it and no way to stop it that he had been able to discover yet. His only recourse was to shove it into the back of his mind and pretend it never happened.

He bent to sip from the water fountain partway down the hall, hunching his shoulders to keep the unaccustomed mass of hair behind him. Metallic-tasting, warm... he winced and spat half of it back. If he wanted to drink blood, he'd just take a bite out of Mana the next time he got felt up, rather than jerking away frantically as he had done so far. He shuddered, turning for the door.

None of this would be nearly as disturbing were it not for the peculiar reaction he always seemed to have to Mana's absolute focus. Really, taking that factor out of the events involved, there was nothing to it.

He ticked over the scene in his mind. Mana pranced to Gackt in his lovely blue heels, then looked up, deeply, searchingly, into his eyes... the first point at which his mind had to self-edit or implode. Holding that intense gaze, Mana slid his arms around Gackt's shoulders, fell like a ragdoll into his chest, then ever-so-slowly slipped his right hand gracefully downward until it reached Gackt's upper thigh. At least, that area was the goal - halfway there, Gackt tended to choke and involuntarily launch himself backward out of Mana's arms. He could feel his body reacting to the touch traveling down his upper hip... the skin prickling, muscles tightening in anticipation and --

It didn't bear thinking about. He closed his eyes momentarily and grimaced, reaching for the door that would take him to relatively fresh air and, hopefully, a few minutes' peace.

He could never claim that he'd had no idea what he was getting into. The driving philosophy behind Malice Mizer, thoroughly explained to him at their initial meeting, was quite clear: Mana's vision expressed in performance, an exposition of the paired malice and misery that existed within the heart of all humans, and as a potential sideline, hey - let's all get rich and have a lot of sex. It would never have occured to him independently that this might translate into sexual-tension stage games, each person changing roles and personas as the moment, the song, and Mana's whim demanded. He was used to it now, though. Really. It was no big deal, only games, something they played with in performances and photo shoots. They were all still the same people, a group of straight men who happened to have a really unusual performance job, no matter what happened between whom in front of large groups of people. Perfectly normal and innocent.

Try as he might, he couldn't make it sound normal and innocent even in his own mind, and he was a master of goal-oriented self deception. If a man, dressed and acting as a woman, put his hands all over another man in an obviously sexual way... and that man reacted to it... did that make the second man gay, or the first, or both or neither or just--

He dropped his head with a thump against the bricks in front of him. Trying to resolve it for himself only gave him another headache. He'd gotten along so far by seeing it as a means to an end; certainly he'd allowed liberties along this line to be taken with his body in the past, all in the name of extra tip money to buy better equipment and clothes with. But they had been... real women... as far as he knew.

It disturbed him that his body reacted to the same touch in the same way without regard to whether it was from a man or a woman. The others never seemed to have this problem. Whether they were simply accustomed to having Mana's hands all over them, or had some sort of switch in their minds that he hadn't yet discovered in his own, he couldn't tell and absolutely didn't want to ask. The question alone would let them know far too much about what was going on in his own mind.

His mouth twisting up and eyes staring blankly into the stand of trees beyond the loading dock where he stood, he reached for the pocket with his pack of smokes, and found -- no pocket. No smokes.

Shit.

They had to be in his street clothes, in the locker room, he hoped desperately as he spun back around and headed for the door - getting there just in time for it to be opened forcibly in his face.

"What the -- you -- FUCK!!" he sputtered as he landed in a not-so-graceful sprawl on yellow-painted concrete.

"Sorry, Gackt," said Kami vaguely from the doorway. "Hey, whenever you're done with your smoke, just come back in..."

"What else would I do," Gackt muttered as he collected himself. Kami offered a hand to pull him up, but Gackt was already rising.

"We don't have to rerun anything. Mana just stopped 'cause they wanted to set up some equipment, I don't know." Kami shrugged and closed the door behind him. "Just have to finish up real quick, and we're done for the day. Me and Yu~ki were talking about going to play pool or something. Come along if you want."

Gackt blinked. "Well... certainly. I suppose. I don't have any other plans. Um. Do you happen to have any cigarettes on you?" If they were going to associate outside of work, why not consider the relationship friendly enough to go ahead and bum one right now. He sat down on the edge of the loading dock.

Kami pulled out a half-empty soft pack of Larks and extended it solemnly. Gackt took out two cigarettes and the lighter tucked into the pack, handing the first over and lighting his own as Kami settled down on the concrete. They smoked in silence for a few minutes.

Gackt gradually became aware of being the recipient of multiple sidelong looks. Finally, he sighed and said, "Spit it out. What?"

Kami jumped slightly and said, "Oh! No, there's... well. There is one thing I was wondering."

"Hmmmm?"

"...uh..."

"Hmmmmmmm?" and turning fully toward Kami, he gave him The Eye.

"Sooooo... doyoulikemenorwomen?" Kami said in a flustered rush. "Because, well... um, because..."

"Be...cause...?" Gackt said woodenly.

"Well... um..."

"WELL??" His expression must truly have been terrifying, for Kami was edging away and the whites of his eyes were showing as he whispered, "I thought maybe if we went out to a few bars, ah, maybe you could help me with picking up women, you know...?"

Oh.

OH.

Gackt couldn't help it. He tripped over backward from the predatory stoop he'd unconsciously adopted and cracked up, in relief more than anything. What HAD he been thinking, anyway? That simply because he found himself freaked out, it would spread to the others and cause them to begin regarding him in the same way? How very self-centered. The others were probably much more interested in when this new vocalist was going to get his shit together so they could all get off work at a reasonable time.

That realization didn't make it any less odd for Kami to ask him such a thing rather than simply assuming he was heterosexual unless otherwise demonstrated - but - yes. An evening of helping Kami perfect his moves with the ladies would undoubtedly be not only entertaining, but good for continued faith in his own... sanity.

He could certainly use a drink. Make that -- several. As soon as possible.

Kami was eyeing him with a puzzled, but luckily amused, expression. Gackt could only wave his hands in a way he hoped was properly reassuring as he caught his breath from laughing, wiped his eyes and calmed down.

Finally, still half-smiling, Kami offered, "Ah... do you think we might go back now?" Gackt nodded, still chuckling at random, and stood up. Kami waved him through the door. Back to the torture chamber, Gackt thought. Well, nobody's twisting my arm. It's the possibility of truly making it that's keeping me. Is that worth a bit of groping, and the loss of my confident and absolute heterosexual integrity? I think... I have to say... that it is; after all, it's only gay if you're on the bottom, right??

As if Mana would be on the bottom.

Well, just - forget it's your body! Forget that you're supposed to mind, that there's anything remotely sexual about being touched by anyone else.

Wait, there was something else wrong with that. He stopped in his tracks, eyes focused vaguely ahead. Kami walked on, then realized Gackt wasn't following and swung around to give him a concerned look.

...uhm. Right. Unless, of course, you and Kami get lucky tonight. Then forget everything I just ordered of you, mind. Shaking his head abruptly, he came back into the moment and gave Kami a small smile, brushing past the other man.

He was a step from the last corner before the Room of Terror, when his ass was slapped with a resounding SMACK!! He whirled around, hands rising defensively - and Kami said, in iffy English, but clearly enough to decipher -

"Go get 'em!!"

...beaming encouragingly, with apparent benign intent.

Quivering, wild-eyed, ready to leap for the ceiling with his hands protecting wherever might need it most urgently - Gackt could only stare blankly at Kami's innocently smiling face and say...

"You bet."

He really needed a drink.

They walked into the rehearsal room. Mana and Kozi were huddled together over a tangle of black boxes and wires at the front of the floor, Yu~ki was fiddling with his sleeve a few feet from them, and the choreographer was nowhere to be seen. Mana looked up, face impassive as ever. "Ready?"

"Certainly," he said smoothly. It didn't matter that his heart was still jumpy from the Kami ass-smack, or that the way Kozi had been leaning along Mana's shoulder and smiling into his neck when they had come in was a little more familiar, for having no audience in sight, than maybe even being longtime best friends could warrant. He could do it. He could do anything. Damn it.

They took their places, Mana pressing play and then moving smoothly to where the wings of the stage would be. Gackt mouthed the words, swirling and moving his hands as required, the others crisscrossing in front of him, dipping and circling... from the corner of his eye, he saw Mana begin to make the approach.

His stomach curled into a ball. If he screwed up this time... no. He would not allow failure, after having fought so hard to get this far. There was nothing and noone that could stop him but himself. He was fucking done with failing himself.

He looked to the right, meeting Mana's eyes. The familiar shiver of uneasy chemistry inched its way through him, but this time he found himself ever so slightly detached. Good. He shuddered as his vision was obscured with blue ringlets, pale arms winding over his shoulders to the nape of his neck, long fingers reaching up to tease. He caught the other man in his arms, moving sinuously to look up at the ceiling, then down with an only half-staged intensity at Mana's neck as it was laid back over his upper arm. He's about to go for it. Just... pretend you don't have nerves. Mana rolled into Gackt's body almost submissively, looking coyly back over his shoulder at the presently nonexistent audience, then drawing his right hand down... dancing briefly along Gackt's collarbone, pressing flat to slide past his nipple, rising back briefly to tweak it -

you don't have nerves he's not doing anything it's not happening

- then continuing its graceful, teasing dance along his ribs, tracing the line of definition down the edge of his stomach and -

Gackt sucked in his breath abruptly, holding back his reflexive jump by a hair as Mana's hands deviated from their prescribed routine. Mana's left hand, normally staying at the base of his skull, was suddenly.. definitely... straying downward.

"Don't choke on me now, darling," Mana murmured, his deep voice taking on a sickeningly sweet tone. He breathed softly behind Gackt's ear for emphasis, blinking prettily toward the imagined audience. The scratchy taped music played on, a demented soundtrack to Gackt's private horror movie, where he could clearly see what was about to happen and that it could only come to a bad end for the hero but somehow he just couldn't find any way to move a single inch and --

Mana's right hand, poised for a moment now at the top of Gackt's trousers, was joined by his left, sliding along the way to give Gackt's rear a good squeeze. Mana lowered himself slowly to his knees, using Gackt's body for balance as he slid downward, neck arched back and face surely as close as "indifferent" could ever get to pure ecstasy. Gackt was still hanging on to his composure. Somehow. The shock may have been helping more than anything else. His face certainly wasn't in the precise expression that Mana's previous dictation of this scene required.

But then, when Mana threw his own plans out the window... Think, what is he going for? What should you... his thought crumbled abruptly as the hands suddenly gripped his pants to each side of the fly and YANKED. Horrified, he could only stare as the top button popped off and the zip flew halfway down, thankfully getting stuck there despite Mana's brief attempt at budging it. Mana's face swooped in toward the gap, tilting up to meet Gackt's eyes with a narrowed silvery glare, and suddenly Gackt recollected just where he was and what he'd been attempting to achieve, before the near-depantsing had begun; he thought - just possibly - he might be able to get through this. Assuming that Mana didn't get too much more...

EVIL. Gackt choked as hands slid firmly into his pants, clenching his jaw and digging his fingernails into his palms, darkly flirtatious half-smile trembling... Mana's knuckles were cool as they traced the line of muscle leading diagonally down his body, right hand twisting and moving further inward to stroke --

-- his eyes blurred but he hung on, tilting his head in such a way that it would appear he watched - oh dear god - watched Mana's tongue reaching out to flick shapes in the air, trailing downward from his navel. He closed his eyes briefly then forced them open again, trying not to choke on his tongue, to keep himself together... the break was four seconds from finishing...

Mana's serenely malevolent face tipped up toward his as the hands drifted back OUT of his half-open pants, he began to breathe again - and Mana said quietly - "Final exam."

Paused, apparently considered.

"Acceptable."


He'd never get used to this.

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A/N: If you feel like flaming any and everything in this, please do. (I actually enjoy criticism more than praise... I'm... M like that?? *snickers*) I'm planning on writing a quick and dirty lemon filling in the rest of the story - not involving Gackt *evil laugh* - sometime when I'm in the mood. ^^ Thanks for reading!! ♥