Even if it is pretending, Gackt feels that somehow it is enough.
Don't really like this much, but I'm practicing writing this couple because I really love it. I'm trying to get their personalities down, so this is probably really bad, but -- practice, practice, practice! Right? XD;
Behind the curtains, Gackt tells Mana that tonight’s performance has been going very well. The show is taking a short intermission, a ten minute break, and there’s not much time left before they will find themselves pushed back on stage. Mana smiles a little, says a quick thank you, and takes a small sip from his bottle of water.
“We can stop, if you want.”
Gackt’s words makes Mana turn, brings his eyes up. He asks Gackt what he means by that, and Gackt shakes his head. He is grinning. “I mean,” he says, gesturing with his hand, “all of the acting. For the fans. You know, the things we do on stage. We don’t have to do all of that, not if you don’t want.”
“Do you mind?” Mana’s voice is small but firm, and Gackt raises an eyebrow.
“Of course I don’t,” he says, messing with his boa. It’s hot in this cramped area, a small dressing room, and it is only in times like this that he almost regrets his choice of clothing. He loves it, of course, but wearing a little less might make things a bit easier. “I was just letting you know.”
It’s quiet after that. A crew member informs everyone that they have five minutes left, and that they need to begin preparing themselves. Mana is fixing himself in front of a mirror, making certain there is not one hair out of place, not an article of clothing that isn’t flawless. Gackt watches him from across the room silently, and silence is all there is between the two until Mana parts his lips. “I never really minded.”
Gackt says nothing for a moment, but he takes a few short steps forward. “The acting, you mean?”
“Yes.” Mana pushes an ornament in his hair back just slightly, perfecting its position. He looks stunning, as always. Gackt has always admired his beauty, his immaculate appearance. Mana always seemed like nothing less than a man, and Gackt had never thought of him as being or appearing as a woman, but there were feminine qualities to him that could not be missed.
Silence, silence. Two minutes left.
Gackt’s arms are folded across his chest, and there’s a quiet, subtle burning in him that he’s familiar with, a sensation that never leaves him until he and Mana part ways. “I don’t mind, either.”
Mana’s reply is simple. “That’s good.”
Gackt wonders if there is more to all of this than his mind has a grasp on, more beneath the layer that he hasn’t gotten a hold on yet. One minute until the show continues, and Mana is readying himself to leave. Gackt follows wordlessly behind him, mere inches separating himself and the man he’s spent too much time with, thought about for more hours than is healthy.
He reaches out to touch him, his hair, his clothes, anything.
His hand is retracted; he finds himself unable to do it.
During the performance, Gackt and Mana are close, close like they always are. They touch, they hug, they interact with one another. Mana leans in and presses his lips to Gackt’s cheek, holds them there for a brief moment.
Gackt suppresses a grin.
And he doesn’t mind at all.
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