Daniel (one-shot)
Oct. 12th, 2010 08:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
awesomechick15title: Daniel
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
awesomechick15
word count: 3,440
pairing: Jin/Kame, Kame/OC
rating: R
genre: death, angst, violence, drama
disclaimer: I don't own Akanishi Jin or Kamenashi Kazuya. However, I do own the story, my own characters and you.
warnings: gore
summary: Daniel feasts with them.
A/N: Umm. Yeah. Tuuli goes plotless, weird fics again. This time with low quality, incoherent gore and intestines. I wrestled with the rating for some time and decided to go with R. I'm warning you, there's gore-ish violence in here and some strangeness with it. Even though I've failed to describe those things, I still don't want to traumatize anyone. It's not that descriptive or straightforward, nothing too gross, but I guess someone can pull something off it.
I wanted to write something with gore. Well, I tried. Warning, nothing logical and a bunch of (badly) hidden meanings ahead.
(By the way, for some reason this also reminds me of this fic with some parts. Guess I'm a creature of habit. Don't get distracted if you've read both, which I highly doubt.)
The dreams keep haunting him.
It's like they're deliberately trying to push him off the edge, slowly turn his mind into a tangled mess of insanity. Kame wouldn't mind insanity, really, because that way he could forget and forgive everything. He would be fully numb, nothing would pierce his shield, his guard would be always up. But then that part of him slaps him in the face, whispering cruel and cold words into his ear, and suddenly he minds way too much to ignore it. You're Kamenashi, you're strong, you have so much, you can't fall down, they rely on you, you will be nothing if you give up now, they will hate you.
Responsibility fails his trust and turns against him. It surrounds him and embraces him, refuses to let go, but doesn't give him the permission to breathe. He wants to be responsible, trustworthy, safe and hardworking.
It just feels so far away when he leans against Daniel and lets him smooth his hair, warm him with his fingertips. Daniel is safe and dangerous at the same time, protective and wounding. He looks like an angel, blond curls framing his face, graceful features making him look so proud and outstanding, sea blue eyes locking their gaze with Kame's and inviting him into the depths of sin. Daniel is beautiful from the outside and ugly from the inside.
Kame just doesn't care that much, not when Daniel whispers something in a foreign language in his ear, drowning out Kame's own demons, not when he pushes another fine bottle of wine in Kame's hands and tells him to drink in broken Japanese. It will help you, it will make you feel better. From experience Kame knows very well it's not true, that alcohol only makes you more miserable and more shattered, that he won't be able to work properly tomorrow, but he takes it anyway.
Wine chases the dreams off, makes them disappear for a while, kills his demons. They will all come back, stronger and blades sharpened, but then Kame's numb heart will have control of him again. Nothing will hurt. (Or feel good either, but when he's gotten this far, he isn't about to miss happiness and real feelings again.)
”You look like you want to cry,” Daniel breathes, stroking Kame's jawline with his thumb. Kame wants to laugh.
”I do,” he answers, the bitter taste of alcohol burning on his tongue. ”Crying is good. It means your heart is alive.”
”Then cry.”
”I don't have a heart. He took it with him.”
The next day is a blur to him, desultory sentences and soundless gasps, camera flashes blinding his eyes and fake smiles making his mouth sore, hair spray invading his lungs, eyeliner aching in his eyes, strangers touching him and talking to him and laughing with him, at him, knowing looks all around, fangirls' screams when he steps outside and feels cold wind stroke his face, someone pushing him into a car, a room, another car. He remembers everything and nothing.
The hangover screams and throws tantrums in the back of his head, making him feel sore all over, headache and slight nausea creeping inside him. He tries to push it off, he wants to work, wants to be perfect again, but can't fight it alone. His assistants help him, bringing him orange juice and aspirin. He would be thankful but he knows they will be telling stories of his uncontrollable alcohol usage to the tabloids, making money off his mistakes. But it's his fault, so he can't complain, goes through the photo shoots his head held high.
Daniel is there, too. Of course he is, he's a photographer, after all. Kame doesn't directly see him, but knows he's there, hiding somewhere behind the camera and the miles of useless people and buildings. Daniel always hides. The air reveals him, though, the brooding, anxious atmosphere in Kame's spine. Daniel is always there.
That's how they met. Not because Daniel was always there, but because he was a photographer. Kame doesn't remember the shooting itself, not even when it was or what it was for, but he does remember Daniel's eyes smiling at him, his voice soft and languid afterwards, asking if Kame was up for a drink. And being the productive, popular idol he used to be, of course Kame was.
Blood. It's warm on his fingers, so warm he can almost feel it boiling. He touches the milky skin in front of him, still feels something pulsing underneath.
Horror hits him like a wave, suffocates him with strength. He stumbles backwards, tries to catch his breath but doesn't succeed. It's like the ground was swallowing him, taking him in. Closing up on him.
But it feels good. Fear feels good. It's his best friend, loves him unconditionally and is always there for him when he needs something to lean on. He bites his lip too hard, feels stinging pain and winces. Fear pulls on his hair, hissing sharp words in his ear. Look what you have done, look, look, doesn't it feel good, doesn't it feel good to be evil, doesn't it, doesn't it. Tears trickle in the corners in his eyes, he doesn't want to.
But the fear grabs his hand next, rises it so his fingertips press against his lips. And voluntarily he licks them, feels the taste of iron and agony on his tongue instead of the usual misery and alcohol. And it tastes good.
He smiles and without looking knows the fear is smiling too, easing its grip.
Blood is delicious, the liquid of life making him lose all his senses.
His slurs are useless as Koki drags him on the couch. He hates to be fussed about, hates to feel like a lost child. Koki brings up all those feelings, so Kame hates him. Not completely, not with a passion, but still. Hate can be longterm and under the surface.
”I can't believe you did this again,” Koki huffs as he arranges the pillows and pushes Kame to lie down. ”We have a concert in an hour. A fucking concert, do you hear me?”
Kame does, he really does, and the guilt is painful. His responsible self is dying inside, begging forgiveness and feeling useless. Damn alcohol, damn those cocktails, damn the sweet emptiness of drunkenness. It's too enticing for him to avoid.
”I'm sorry,” he manages to phrase, but it has no effect.
”That Daniel guy is seriously messing you up,” Koki mumbles as he takes a few steps back and pulls a glass out of a lonely shelf placed in the corner of the parlor. ”You didn't drink this much before. Kame, I understand if you drink in free time, but at work? Hell no.”
The dark-haired man looks like a sad puppy as he pours some water in the glass and then comes back to Kame.
”I'm sorry,” Kame repeats himself as he receives the glass.
For a moment there's a rough silence. He lifts the glass on his lips with shaky fingers and drinks, lets the fluid gradually sober him up.
”Is he good to you?” Koki suddenly asks, looking at Kame with anxiety plastered all over his face, a frown forming between his brows. ”Daniel, I mean. He's your boyfriend, right? Do you like him? I want to meet that guy.”
”He's not my boyfriend,” Kame protests immediately. ”He's just a friend who fucks me.”
”Whatever,” Koki snaps, and there's obvious anger in his voice. Someone would think he's jealous, but Kame knows he's just disappointed. Disappointed in his friend and the way he's fucking everything up. Pretty reasonable.
”And he buys me booze, so I guess he's okay,” Kame points out and empties the glass. Koki snorts and takes it without a question, turning and filling it again, giving it back like a trained dog.
”Okay? Doesn't sound very loving.. And he shouldn't. You don't need alcohol. It's not good for you, not in the amounts you're using it.”
”It makes me forget.”
That shuts Koki up for good. He knows. He knows how much it hurts Kame, because it has hurt him too, even though he won't admit it aloud.
He has hurt them. The five of them.
Daniel is affectionate. At least in his own, mysterious way. It shows in the little things: the way his thrusts always get more coordinated and light when Kame's whimpers become pained and complaining. The way he always gives Kame a re-fill when he asks for it, even when his eyes tell he doesn't think the shorter one should drink anymore. The way he loves to kiss Kame's collarbones and neck when he feels tired. The way he understands Kame's diet, likes him thin, appreciates him thin, takes him in for the weekend and they don't do anything but drink and fuck for the whole two days. Both of them are hungry, neither suggests food.
Kame likes to count Daniel's ribs. He really is an angel, especially naked. He is beautiful, even though his sins are visible on his skin. They attract people, make them want to see and know more. Kame understands. His sins are hidden and he's still loved, but he doesn't have the same mysterious aura around him.
Daniel always pays for everything. Always. He says it's a thank you, that Kame deserves it. It makes him feel a bit like a whore, but he doesn't mind. He's too numb to care, there is no self-esteem to wreck. And he's been a whore for years already, just not for a person. Earlier the media and the entire nation have been his customers. Nowadays the tabloids particularly love him, almost worship him, as he is one of the best story subjects they have. Kamenashi Kazuya, the fallen angel. The ruined idol.
”You know, if I didn't know your background, I wouldn't think you're famous,” Daniel said once.
When Kame had asked him why, surprised, still somehow in his right mind back then, Daniel had laughed.
”You're pretty, beautiful actually, and you have that air around you. But... you're too broken. Famous people are complete. They don't show their weak sides. You try to be strong and always on board and that's exactly what makes you weak. Someone has broken you beyond repair.”
That was the night Kame openly cried the first time in five years. The tears started to stream down his face in a taxi on his way home. The realization felt so harsh, so cold, left him feel used and hurt.
His heart wasn't his.
Flesh is soft, Kame notices as he cuts through it. The shining metal of his knife looks so pure and innocent, at least as long as it gets stained with blood. It feels good, feels rewarding.
And when he hits the bone it's like a power rush to him. An accomplishment. The fear stands behind him, an appreciative look on its eyeless and noseless face, its mouth forming a wide grin, sharp teeth ready to pierce Kame's neck anytime now.
Kame twists the blade and laughs happily as he sees blood flow more, almost notices a hint of what he thinks is intestine. God, that would hurt if it was him. He takes a sneak peek at the face, that face, but feels letdown when he notices the lifeless expression.
Did it really take that little time to die?
So fragile.
The dreams never leave him. Once he wakes up from them in the middle of the night, or day, he doesn't know, but it's dark and the world is still sleeping. Daniel stirs and sits up as he sees the horror on Kame's face.
”What's wrong?” he asks, worried, and brushes a sweaty hair off his temple. ”Do you feel nauseous? Want some Metopram?”
”No, I'm good,” Kame mumbles, trying to regain his focus. ”Just a bad dream.”
He shivers at the memory of flesh and bone and oh God, what does he dream about? Kame tries to forget, feels Daniel shrug and lay down again, does the same. But the vague, quickly dissolving memories of the dream won't leave him alone, only get worse as he closes his eyes and dives into darkness.
He doesn't want to do those things, he's not that kind of person. He's not violent. Those things, they scare him. He's not insane, only a little bit, not that much. He doesn't want the flesh and the blood and the fear and the bone. He doesn't want a taste. He's not that crazy.
Not that much. Kame keeps repeating the sentence in his head as long as he falls asleep.
The dreams come back, but he doesn't know how to stop them.
Johnny is a nice guy, actually. He's shouted at Kame numerous times, pushed his head down behind closed doors and almost made him vomit, scared the shit out of him with that controlling, overpowering aura. He really is nice. Reasonable and fair. Naturally after money, but still nice. He keeps Kame as a product, but it doesn't make him meaner, no. That is the way it should be. Someone viewing Kame as an object.
He's not the gentle, warm grandfather from the stories. He's old, but he's not warm or comforting. His world is cold, made of black and white. Still Kame is not afraid when he sits in a chair in front of him, not worried as Johnny's stare burns his skin from behind the desk.
He's not surprised when he hears how he is a disappointment. He's not adverse when he hears it's all up to him, not helpless when he's told he has all the responsibility. It's nothing new. He's always known those things.
He doesn't blink when Johnny smoothly changes the subject to Akanishi, doesn't swallow when the man mentions something about him coming back. Back to Japan in the summer. It's expected. Akanishi hasn't left for good, even though Los Angeles has become the headquarters of his solo activities. It's apprehended he was going to come back anyway, even though he didn't participate in band projects now, just like he did in 2006.
He's in KAT-TUN, after all. And even though Kame's heart clenches, the old scars bleeding just at the thought of him, he's not going to leave them. He's one of them, and with him everything is complete.
Kame is complete.
Daniel is extra careful with him that night. It doesn't feel as good as it usually does. For some reason, Kame doesn't want to be taken care of. Not then. He wants someone to treat him as he is, not like he's made of glass. Or worse, smoke.
”But you seem so depressed,” Daniel explains, blue eyes looking at Kame pleadingly. And Kame nods even though he doesn't agree one single bit, lets Daniel do whatever he wants. He's a gorgeous devil, and deserves credit for that.
After using his body as a meaningless relaxant, Daniel gives Kame wine. And pills, because pills always make Kame want a second round. He likes them. They make him feel better, but are not dangerous, of course not, because secretly Daniel is a coward. He wouldn't ever dare to use anything that could actually harm him or anyone else. He acts like he doesn't care, that alcohol is his only true lover and flirting with death is the best fun he can have, but in reality he cares more than he probably should. He's a hypocrite. A hypocrite who wants to live.
So does Kame, even if that life doesn't have many purposes anymore.
Tasting is not enough. Blood tingles on Kame's lips, the delicious taste seducing him, but it's not enough. It's not really his opinion, but the fear tells him so, whispers in his ears in languages and tells him what to do, holds the blade for him.
He lets it cut the flesh more, rake it further. It grabs Kame's hand, then, and pushes it in. Sickness rushes up Kame's throat, he wants to vomit. It's disgusting, he can feel the blood and the bone and something slick and warm and solid around his fingers. The smell suddenly blocks air, fills Kame's nose and lungs, and it's sickening.
Then Kame can feel the fear controlling his fingers, and tries to keep the contents of his stomach in as they grab something. Then his hand pulls them away, pulls them with speed, and before he notices he's holding a heart.
It's still pulsing, but slowly stopping as blood floods out through the cut veins and arteries. He swallows and fear grabs now his hair, pushing his head, and forces him to bite down on the muscle.
It tastes good.
Next bite is intentional, and Kame feels the blood and flesh run down his throat. The fear laughs, an anechoic, monotone laugh he recognizes instantly.
It's Daniel. The fear is Daniel. Kame has never been so furious.
His demon.
That morning Daniel leaves.
Well, he doesn't exactly leave, since Kame never sees him exiting. He only sees the empty apartment he slowly realizes is his own. There is no sign of another person there. No clothes, pictures, not even the smell of the cheap perfume Daniel loved to use. Even the echoes of memories are gone, later neighbors will tell how Kame was always talking to himself, only acting like there was someone there.
Kame isn't sad. He falls back to the bed and is somehow relieved. He can feel the bruises on his body, cuts and love bites, can feel the hangover covering him once again. He's still relieved.
He gets up, ignoring the fact his naked body can be seen from the windows. He walks up to the mirror and the anger from the dream is back, the fury he felt rushes back in his veins as he looks at his own image.
It's there. That word, on his skin. He sees the raked nail marks that burn in the angry colors of red, sees the way Daniel has marked him as his own. He guesses it's normal for someone who leaves but still wants to possess the thing he's leaving, but he was never possessed by Daniel. He was never his. He didn't belong to him.
But it's fine, probably, because he doesn't belong to himself either. And the person he belongs to doesn't care, doesn't know, and never will.
It was the day he was supposed to remember as the day his angel left him. Regrettably, his recollections of Daniel would fade in time as that day became something else.
The day Akanishi came back.
Kame walks down the corridor. He doesn't know why he got called to work so suddenly, why there was such a rushed tone in the order, but it's not his place to question. He's covered his unwillingly marked body with clothes, fabric that hides the lies.
He's never been claustrophobic, but he feels like the walls of the corridor start to close up on him, just like the floor did in the dream, when he sees something. Something he doesn't want to see, not in a hundred years or more. His breathing doesn't fasten or become difficult, it stops altogether. So does his body, like someone chained him.
Akanishi's hair is dark, so are his eyes as they meet Kame's. He's expressionless, at least as long as Kame gets over the panic rising in his head and smiles nervously.
”You're back,” he sums everything up, sounding like an idiot.
”Yeah,” Akanishi says, looking uneasy. He takes a few steps closer, then. ”They're going to. Discuss stuff.”
”Stuff?”
They haven't talked properly in years, the days of youth when everything was comforting and familiar and problems had no place in their lives somewhere far away. Between them there is only uncomfortable tension, guilt and a broken heart.
”I'm going to leave the band, Kame. For good.”
The nickname probably hurts more than the words.
And then something clicks in Kame's head. It might be Daniel, the man who lived in photographs and they said didn't exist within this world. Might be the demons inside the blue eyes. It's always Daniel. Kame can almost hear his voice as his own, a strange mouth speaking for him.
”Really.”
It's actually quite fun once you get to know it, he thinks. Insanity. It requires an empty space on the place of one's heart and someone to fill it with lies.
Akanishi tastes even better than in the dreams, and his horrified screams are sweeter than any sound Kame has ever heard.
Daniel feasts with them.
author:
awesomechick15 word count: 3,440
pairing: Jin/Kame, Kame/OC
rating: R
genre: death, angst, violence, drama
disclaimer: I don't own Akanishi Jin or Kamenashi Kazuya. However, I do own the story, my own characters and you.
warnings: gore
summary: Daniel feasts with them.
A/N: Umm. Yeah. Tuuli goes plotless, weird fics again. This time with low quality, incoherent gore and intestines. I wrestled with the rating for some time and decided to go with R. I'm warning you, there's gore-ish violence in here and some strangeness with it. Even though I've failed to describe those things, I still don't want to traumatize anyone. It's not that descriptive or straightforward, nothing too gross, but I guess someone can pull something off it.
I wanted to write something with gore. Well, I tried. Warning, nothing logical and a bunch of (badly) hidden meanings ahead.
(By the way, for some reason this also reminds me of this fic with some parts. Guess I'm a creature of habit. Don't get distracted if you've read both, which I highly doubt.)
The dreams keep haunting him.
It's like they're deliberately trying to push him off the edge, slowly turn his mind into a tangled mess of insanity. Kame wouldn't mind insanity, really, because that way he could forget and forgive everything. He would be fully numb, nothing would pierce his shield, his guard would be always up. But then that part of him slaps him in the face, whispering cruel and cold words into his ear, and suddenly he minds way too much to ignore it. You're Kamenashi, you're strong, you have so much, you can't fall down, they rely on you, you will be nothing if you give up now, they will hate you.
Responsibility fails his trust and turns against him. It surrounds him and embraces him, refuses to let go, but doesn't give him the permission to breathe. He wants to be responsible, trustworthy, safe and hardworking.
It just feels so far away when he leans against Daniel and lets him smooth his hair, warm him with his fingertips. Daniel is safe and dangerous at the same time, protective and wounding. He looks like an angel, blond curls framing his face, graceful features making him look so proud and outstanding, sea blue eyes locking their gaze with Kame's and inviting him into the depths of sin. Daniel is beautiful from the outside and ugly from the inside.
Kame just doesn't care that much, not when Daniel whispers something in a foreign language in his ear, drowning out Kame's own demons, not when he pushes another fine bottle of wine in Kame's hands and tells him to drink in broken Japanese. It will help you, it will make you feel better. From experience Kame knows very well it's not true, that alcohol only makes you more miserable and more shattered, that he won't be able to work properly tomorrow, but he takes it anyway.
Wine chases the dreams off, makes them disappear for a while, kills his demons. They will all come back, stronger and blades sharpened, but then Kame's numb heart will have control of him again. Nothing will hurt. (Or feel good either, but when he's gotten this far, he isn't about to miss happiness and real feelings again.)
”You look like you want to cry,” Daniel breathes, stroking Kame's jawline with his thumb. Kame wants to laugh.
”I do,” he answers, the bitter taste of alcohol burning on his tongue. ”Crying is good. It means your heart is alive.”
”Then cry.”
”I don't have a heart. He took it with him.”
* * *
The next day is a blur to him, desultory sentences and soundless gasps, camera flashes blinding his eyes and fake smiles making his mouth sore, hair spray invading his lungs, eyeliner aching in his eyes, strangers touching him and talking to him and laughing with him, at him, knowing looks all around, fangirls' screams when he steps outside and feels cold wind stroke his face, someone pushing him into a car, a room, another car. He remembers everything and nothing.
The hangover screams and throws tantrums in the back of his head, making him feel sore all over, headache and slight nausea creeping inside him. He tries to push it off, he wants to work, wants to be perfect again, but can't fight it alone. His assistants help him, bringing him orange juice and aspirin. He would be thankful but he knows they will be telling stories of his uncontrollable alcohol usage to the tabloids, making money off his mistakes. But it's his fault, so he can't complain, goes through the photo shoots his head held high.
Daniel is there, too. Of course he is, he's a photographer, after all. Kame doesn't directly see him, but knows he's there, hiding somewhere behind the camera and the miles of useless people and buildings. Daniel always hides. The air reveals him, though, the brooding, anxious atmosphere in Kame's spine. Daniel is always there.
That's how they met. Not because Daniel was always there, but because he was a photographer. Kame doesn't remember the shooting itself, not even when it was or what it was for, but he does remember Daniel's eyes smiling at him, his voice soft and languid afterwards, asking if Kame was up for a drink. And being the productive, popular idol he used to be, of course Kame was.
* * *
Blood. It's warm on his fingers, so warm he can almost feel it boiling. He touches the milky skin in front of him, still feels something pulsing underneath.
Horror hits him like a wave, suffocates him with strength. He stumbles backwards, tries to catch his breath but doesn't succeed. It's like the ground was swallowing him, taking him in. Closing up on him.
But it feels good. Fear feels good. It's his best friend, loves him unconditionally and is always there for him when he needs something to lean on. He bites his lip too hard, feels stinging pain and winces. Fear pulls on his hair, hissing sharp words in his ear. Look what you have done, look, look, doesn't it feel good, doesn't it feel good to be evil, doesn't it, doesn't it. Tears trickle in the corners in his eyes, he doesn't want to.
But the fear grabs his hand next, rises it so his fingertips press against his lips. And voluntarily he licks them, feels the taste of iron and agony on his tongue instead of the usual misery and alcohol. And it tastes good.
He smiles and without looking knows the fear is smiling too, easing its grip.
Blood is delicious, the liquid of life making him lose all his senses.
* * *
His slurs are useless as Koki drags him on the couch. He hates to be fussed about, hates to feel like a lost child. Koki brings up all those feelings, so Kame hates him. Not completely, not with a passion, but still. Hate can be longterm and under the surface.
”I can't believe you did this again,” Koki huffs as he arranges the pillows and pushes Kame to lie down. ”We have a concert in an hour. A fucking concert, do you hear me?”
Kame does, he really does, and the guilt is painful. His responsible self is dying inside, begging forgiveness and feeling useless. Damn alcohol, damn those cocktails, damn the sweet emptiness of drunkenness. It's too enticing for him to avoid.
”I'm sorry,” he manages to phrase, but it has no effect.
”That Daniel guy is seriously messing you up,” Koki mumbles as he takes a few steps back and pulls a glass out of a lonely shelf placed in the corner of the parlor. ”You didn't drink this much before. Kame, I understand if you drink in free time, but at work? Hell no.”
The dark-haired man looks like a sad puppy as he pours some water in the glass and then comes back to Kame.
”I'm sorry,” Kame repeats himself as he receives the glass.
For a moment there's a rough silence. He lifts the glass on his lips with shaky fingers and drinks, lets the fluid gradually sober him up.
”Is he good to you?” Koki suddenly asks, looking at Kame with anxiety plastered all over his face, a frown forming between his brows. ”Daniel, I mean. He's your boyfriend, right? Do you like him? I want to meet that guy.”
”He's not my boyfriend,” Kame protests immediately. ”He's just a friend who fucks me.”
”Whatever,” Koki snaps, and there's obvious anger in his voice. Someone would think he's jealous, but Kame knows he's just disappointed. Disappointed in his friend and the way he's fucking everything up. Pretty reasonable.
”And he buys me booze, so I guess he's okay,” Kame points out and empties the glass. Koki snorts and takes it without a question, turning and filling it again, giving it back like a trained dog.
”Okay? Doesn't sound very loving.. And he shouldn't. You don't need alcohol. It's not good for you, not in the amounts you're using it.”
”It makes me forget.”
That shuts Koki up for good. He knows. He knows how much it hurts Kame, because it has hurt him too, even though he won't admit it aloud.
He has hurt them. The five of them.
* * *
Daniel is affectionate. At least in his own, mysterious way. It shows in the little things: the way his thrusts always get more coordinated and light when Kame's whimpers become pained and complaining. The way he always gives Kame a re-fill when he asks for it, even when his eyes tell he doesn't think the shorter one should drink anymore. The way he loves to kiss Kame's collarbones and neck when he feels tired. The way he understands Kame's diet, likes him thin, appreciates him thin, takes him in for the weekend and they don't do anything but drink and fuck for the whole two days. Both of them are hungry, neither suggests food.
Kame likes to count Daniel's ribs. He really is an angel, especially naked. He is beautiful, even though his sins are visible on his skin. They attract people, make them want to see and know more. Kame understands. His sins are hidden and he's still loved, but he doesn't have the same mysterious aura around him.
Daniel always pays for everything. Always. He says it's a thank you, that Kame deserves it. It makes him feel a bit like a whore, but he doesn't mind. He's too numb to care, there is no self-esteem to wreck. And he's been a whore for years already, just not for a person. Earlier the media and the entire nation have been his customers. Nowadays the tabloids particularly love him, almost worship him, as he is one of the best story subjects they have. Kamenashi Kazuya, the fallen angel. The ruined idol.
”You know, if I didn't know your background, I wouldn't think you're famous,” Daniel said once.
When Kame had asked him why, surprised, still somehow in his right mind back then, Daniel had laughed.
”You're pretty, beautiful actually, and you have that air around you. But... you're too broken. Famous people are complete. They don't show their weak sides. You try to be strong and always on board and that's exactly what makes you weak. Someone has broken you beyond repair.”
That was the night Kame openly cried the first time in five years. The tears started to stream down his face in a taxi on his way home. The realization felt so harsh, so cold, left him feel used and hurt.
His heart wasn't his.
* * *
Flesh is soft, Kame notices as he cuts through it. The shining metal of his knife looks so pure and innocent, at least as long as it gets stained with blood. It feels good, feels rewarding.
And when he hits the bone it's like a power rush to him. An accomplishment. The fear stands behind him, an appreciative look on its eyeless and noseless face, its mouth forming a wide grin, sharp teeth ready to pierce Kame's neck anytime now.
Kame twists the blade and laughs happily as he sees blood flow more, almost notices a hint of what he thinks is intestine. God, that would hurt if it was him. He takes a sneak peek at the face, that face, but feels letdown when he notices the lifeless expression.
Did it really take that little time to die?
So fragile.
* * *
The dreams never leave him. Once he wakes up from them in the middle of the night, or day, he doesn't know, but it's dark and the world is still sleeping. Daniel stirs and sits up as he sees the horror on Kame's face.
”What's wrong?” he asks, worried, and brushes a sweaty hair off his temple. ”Do you feel nauseous? Want some Metopram?”
”No, I'm good,” Kame mumbles, trying to regain his focus. ”Just a bad dream.”
He shivers at the memory of flesh and bone and oh God, what does he dream about? Kame tries to forget, feels Daniel shrug and lay down again, does the same. But the vague, quickly dissolving memories of the dream won't leave him alone, only get worse as he closes his eyes and dives into darkness.
He doesn't want to do those things, he's not that kind of person. He's not violent. Those things, they scare him. He's not insane, only a little bit, not that much. He doesn't want the flesh and the blood and the fear and the bone. He doesn't want a taste. He's not that crazy.
Not that much. Kame keeps repeating the sentence in his head as long as he falls asleep.
The dreams come back, but he doesn't know how to stop them.
* * *
Johnny is a nice guy, actually. He's shouted at Kame numerous times, pushed his head down behind closed doors and almost made him vomit, scared the shit out of him with that controlling, overpowering aura. He really is nice. Reasonable and fair. Naturally after money, but still nice. He keeps Kame as a product, but it doesn't make him meaner, no. That is the way it should be. Someone viewing Kame as an object.
He's not the gentle, warm grandfather from the stories. He's old, but he's not warm or comforting. His world is cold, made of black and white. Still Kame is not afraid when he sits in a chair in front of him, not worried as Johnny's stare burns his skin from behind the desk.
He's not surprised when he hears how he is a disappointment. He's not adverse when he hears it's all up to him, not helpless when he's told he has all the responsibility. It's nothing new. He's always known those things.
He doesn't blink when Johnny smoothly changes the subject to Akanishi, doesn't swallow when the man mentions something about him coming back. Back to Japan in the summer. It's expected. Akanishi hasn't left for good, even though Los Angeles has become the headquarters of his solo activities. It's apprehended he was going to come back anyway, even though he didn't participate in band projects now, just like he did in 2006.
He's in KAT-TUN, after all. And even though Kame's heart clenches, the old scars bleeding just at the thought of him, he's not going to leave them. He's one of them, and with him everything is complete.
Kame is complete.
* * *
Daniel is extra careful with him that night. It doesn't feel as good as it usually does. For some reason, Kame doesn't want to be taken care of. Not then. He wants someone to treat him as he is, not like he's made of glass. Or worse, smoke.
”But you seem so depressed,” Daniel explains, blue eyes looking at Kame pleadingly. And Kame nods even though he doesn't agree one single bit, lets Daniel do whatever he wants. He's a gorgeous devil, and deserves credit for that.
After using his body as a meaningless relaxant, Daniel gives Kame wine. And pills, because pills always make Kame want a second round. He likes them. They make him feel better, but are not dangerous, of course not, because secretly Daniel is a coward. He wouldn't ever dare to use anything that could actually harm him or anyone else. He acts like he doesn't care, that alcohol is his only true lover and flirting with death is the best fun he can have, but in reality he cares more than he probably should. He's a hypocrite. A hypocrite who wants to live.
So does Kame, even if that life doesn't have many purposes anymore.
* * *
Tasting is not enough. Blood tingles on Kame's lips, the delicious taste seducing him, but it's not enough. It's not really his opinion, but the fear tells him so, whispers in his ears in languages and tells him what to do, holds the blade for him.
He lets it cut the flesh more, rake it further. It grabs Kame's hand, then, and pushes it in. Sickness rushes up Kame's throat, he wants to vomit. It's disgusting, he can feel the blood and the bone and something slick and warm and solid around his fingers. The smell suddenly blocks air, fills Kame's nose and lungs, and it's sickening.
Then Kame can feel the fear controlling his fingers, and tries to keep the contents of his stomach in as they grab something. Then his hand pulls them away, pulls them with speed, and before he notices he's holding a heart.
It's still pulsing, but slowly stopping as blood floods out through the cut veins and arteries. He swallows and fear grabs now his hair, pushing his head, and forces him to bite down on the muscle.
It tastes good.
Next bite is intentional, and Kame feels the blood and flesh run down his throat. The fear laughs, an anechoic, monotone laugh he recognizes instantly.
It's Daniel. The fear is Daniel. Kame has never been so furious.
His demon.
* * *
That morning Daniel leaves.
Well, he doesn't exactly leave, since Kame never sees him exiting. He only sees the empty apartment he slowly realizes is his own. There is no sign of another person there. No clothes, pictures, not even the smell of the cheap perfume Daniel loved to use. Even the echoes of memories are gone, later neighbors will tell how Kame was always talking to himself, only acting like there was someone there.
Kame isn't sad. He falls back to the bed and is somehow relieved. He can feel the bruises on his body, cuts and love bites, can feel the hangover covering him once again. He's still relieved.
He gets up, ignoring the fact his naked body can be seen from the windows. He walks up to the mirror and the anger from the dream is back, the fury he felt rushes back in his veins as he looks at his own image.
It's there. That word, on his skin. He sees the raked nail marks that burn in the angry colors of red, sees the way Daniel has marked him as his own. He guesses it's normal for someone who leaves but still wants to possess the thing he's leaving, but he was never possessed by Daniel. He was never his. He didn't belong to him.
But it's fine, probably, because he doesn't belong to himself either. And the person he belongs to doesn't care, doesn't know, and never will.
It was the day he was supposed to remember as the day his angel left him. Regrettably, his recollections of Daniel would fade in time as that day became something else.
The day Akanishi came back.
* * *
Kame walks down the corridor. He doesn't know why he got called to work so suddenly, why there was such a rushed tone in the order, but it's not his place to question. He's covered his unwillingly marked body with clothes, fabric that hides the lies.
He's never been claustrophobic, but he feels like the walls of the corridor start to close up on him, just like the floor did in the dream, when he sees something. Something he doesn't want to see, not in a hundred years or more. His breathing doesn't fasten or become difficult, it stops altogether. So does his body, like someone chained him.
Akanishi's hair is dark, so are his eyes as they meet Kame's. He's expressionless, at least as long as Kame gets over the panic rising in his head and smiles nervously.
”You're back,” he sums everything up, sounding like an idiot.
”Yeah,” Akanishi says, looking uneasy. He takes a few steps closer, then. ”They're going to. Discuss stuff.”
”Stuff?”
They haven't talked properly in years, the days of youth when everything was comforting and familiar and problems had no place in their lives somewhere far away. Between them there is only uncomfortable tension, guilt and a broken heart.
”I'm going to leave the band, Kame. For good.”
The nickname probably hurts more than the words.
And then something clicks in Kame's head. It might be Daniel, the man who lived in photographs and they said didn't exist within this world. Might be the demons inside the blue eyes. It's always Daniel. Kame can almost hear his voice as his own, a strange mouth speaking for him.
”Really.”
It's actually quite fun once you get to know it, he thinks. Insanity. It requires an empty space on the place of one's heart and someone to fill it with lies.
* * *
Akanishi tastes even better than in the dreams, and his horrified screams are sweeter than any sound Kame has ever heard.
Daniel feasts with them.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-10-16 07:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-12 07:35 pm (UTC)wow... "warnings: gore", talk about an understatement! O.O
but it was well written and kind of captivating... in a disgusting way... if that makes sense ^^'
still I liked it :)
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Date: 2010-10-16 07:23 pm (UTC)thank you darling :) ♥ usually "in a disgusting way" isn't a compliment, but now it makes me glad. :DD
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Date: 2010-10-12 08:48 pm (UTC)The only thing that left me wondering was Koki at some point. If Daniel was part of Kame's imagination, then it doesn't make sense.. Koki asking about him. Unless he was playing along with Kame's delusions or there was a real Daniel, only not to the extent of Kame's madness.
And, yes. Did I already say I love this?
I'll read your other piece now.ps.- I don't follow Japanese tabloids, mainly because I don't have any kind of access to them (and even if I had, I know no Japanese). Are there new rumors of Kame either drinking or being a general wreck now? The RL background of this piece made me wonder.
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Date: 2010-10-12 10:21 pm (UTC)Or not?
Oops and sorry for butting in...
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Date: 2010-10-12 10:32 pm (UTC)And no, it's fine, dear. I was mistaken there :)
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Date: 2010-10-12 10:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-16 07:55 pm (UTC)first of all, thank you ♥ i guess many people don't think plots or stories like this should be viewed as beautiful in the first place, but everyone has their own taste. i like it when people see my writings in a beautiful light, even when they seem to be slicing up body parts or shoving fluffy marshmallows down the reader's throat. :D:D and and and. thank you? :3 (OH MY GOD I'M SO LAME I'M SORRY.)
what comes to the koki thing, nana_lytama already answered. :D so kame had talked about daniel to koki, but koki had never seen the new guy. or gotten actual proof he was existent.
and about the rumors, unfortunately there is very little RL background to this. .... okay, 'unfortunately' sounds cruel, no one wants kame to be messed up, but things like that are interesting. :( so no real rumor background, unless you read in the "kat-tun are/is mentally unstable" someone threw in some rumor in some community some time ago.
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Date: 2010-10-17 04:27 am (UTC)Oh, well. I wouldn't mind some juicy rumors, but in a way it's good there aren't (in a huge way, actually). And the KAT-TUN (and KAT-TUN fans) are mentally unstable comment was pretty funny, gotta admit that.
Keep writing this stuff &hearts
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Date: 2010-10-12 10:23 pm (UTC)This kind of Kame is far more interesting to read than anything I've come across before!
Loved it to bits!
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Date: 2010-10-16 07:58 pm (UTC)but, thank you honey ♥ i'm glad you liked it, even though it's, well.. different from the mainstream fic type in akame fiction. even though there's beginning to be more and more exceptions.
and the kame. i'm more than glad you liked him. :D kame like this was kind of difficult to write, and i was afraid he would seem too... alien. and creepy.
thank youuuu ♥♥♥
no subject
Date: 2010-10-13 11:26 am (UTC)Loved the sweet little scene with Koki, taking him to task about acting like that at work...that was gorgeous, and made the horrific hurting scenes around it even clearer.
And the end..wow. well done, really great piece!
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Date: 2010-10-16 08:13 pm (UTC)but but but. aaaaah thank you! :3 i'm glad you enjoyed it. or, well, liked it. enjoying might be the wrong word. :D and the koki scene was my favorite, actually, so it makes me happy it pleased you. ♥♥
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Date: 2010-10-14 10:00 pm (UTC)I used to pity Kazu-chan beacuse always he's the "weaker" character, who can insane easily, but I can't help it, I love him like this.
So yeah, I'm glad I clicked you fic, I'm grateful :)
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Date: 2010-10-16 08:16 pm (UTC)personally the amount of fics where kame is weak and whiny have made me almost dislike that character. :( idk, it just often gets taken way too far and he either is like a girl with a dick or the self-portrait of the writer. that was also the reason i was nervous about writing a kame like this, since i didn't know how it would turn out. but it's good you liked him ♥ means he didn't become too absurd!
i'm grateful you read and commented :3 thank you again!
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Date: 2010-10-17 11:31 am (UTC)really great fic XD
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Date: 2010-10-24 07:16 pm (UTC)thank you!
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Date: 2010-10-17 06:15 pm (UTC)I really like it
Even though Jin didn't appear much in this, most of the time is Daniel, but through what Kame feels about Daniel, Kame's pain and Kame's love for Jin is described more deeply than anything
"He hates to be fussed about, hates to feel like a lost child. Koki brings up all those feelings, so Kame hates him. Not completely, not with a passion, but still. Hate can be longterm and under the surface." --- This too! You wrote about how Kame is broken and how much Kame loves Jin without writing about Jin T__T It's just so awesome :(
The ending is dark and bitter. Like his angel and his demon both disappeared and he looks like a broken child without soul. (I dunno what I'm babbling about _ _")
Thank you for sharing :) I always love your writing.
Will find time to read the rest from you :D There are still some that I haven't read.
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Date: 2010-10-24 09:13 pm (UTC)wow, your interpretations and metaphors are so deep and thoughtful. feels impressive someone reads writing like that nowadays. i tend to hide things like that and everything but usually people don't notice them. or mention them, idk.
thank you. ♥ your "babbling" is giving a soul to my text.
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Date: 2010-10-29 08:27 pm (UTC)I don't know either ^^ but me when reading I like to find what the author hid behind the lines and be curious to know if I get it right :D
omg giving a soul to your text? so nice saying. thank you and I'm glad to know that :)