Yoshiki tosses his head back suddenly, leaning back on his chair when doing so. He squeezes his eyelids tightly together and causes the creases around his eyes to lengthen, mocking his messy blond hair, tussled about his face in wavy, shoulder-length strands. “Augh!” The sound of his frustration vibrates about the room. He chucks his pencil at the wall. “It’s not right… This melody is all wrong. There’s no point in even trying to fix it… if I should start over…” The poet concentrates in thought. How can I make the feeling deeper? What is the most simple melody I can make to parallel the words…? The lyricist furrows his brows. Placing a hand to his temples, he leans his elbow on the desk. His other hand reaches to take the discarded pencil in a light grip and he frustratedly begins to tap it on the desk. Taptaptaptaptaptap… Stopping, he places it back to rest on the desk, deciding that some calm music would quell his agitation. He raises his eyes to look over the titles of the CD’s on his CD rack, placed neatly on his desk just to the right of his view. “Mmmm… Tchaicovsky, Bach… Mozart.” The pianist’s slender fingers remove the CD from its case and place it gently into the stereo’s CD tray. He relaxes as the music softly infests his mind. The flowing dance of melody begins to unfold. A smile gently curving on his lips, Yoshiki stands from his seat and strides across the room to his inviting piano bench, bending down to sit as he positions his delicate hands on the keys. However, his musical trance is broken rudely by the distant sound of a messy pounding on his front door. Startled, he jolts to attention, the unwritten song quickly erasing from his mind. He glares at his hands. “Damnit… fucking…” Mumbling obscenities, the musician stands and glances at his clock before walking sharply down the staircase and to the door. “2:17 am… What the hell…” His fingers worn with sleepiness, he fumbles open the locks and swings open the door expectantly. Yoshiki’s wild glare widens instantly into shock. “…hide?!!” A pink-haired man, dark shadows formed under his half-lidded eyes, supports himself heavily against the doorframe. Tilting his head slightly to peer up at Yoshiki through a haze of pink locks, he slips forward, falling. “Yosh---” Alarmed, Yoshiki reaches out for hide before he can crash on the floor. The sour smell of alcohol fills his nostrils when he holds the slightly older man to his chest. “hide…” he breathes out confusedly. hide coughs dryly in response, his body shuddering. His deep green turtleneck sweater and baggy black pants suddenly seem inadequate to keep him warm. Held tightly against his taisho’s warm chest, hide continues to shiver. “C-cold…” Yoshiki gently wraps his arms under the smaller man’s weakened form, lifting him slowly against his body. He stumbles only slightly before heading back up the staircase with the broken hide. God, what did he –do- to himself?? And… why…? Yoshiki nudges open the door to his expansive bathroom. He sets hide onto the bath mat, leaning him softly against the side of the ornately-decorated whirlpool bath tub. hide’s eyes glazedly stare at nothing as his head lolls to the side and his arms fall limply to the floor. Yoshiki removes his hands to feel a moist residue through the sleeves of his black shirt while hide makes a small noise from his half-parted lips in protest to the release from strong arms. The blond lifts his arm to his nose, testing the scent. He’s drenched in alcohol… Shrugging his loosely-hung, unbuttoned shirt off his shoulders, he runs his hands over hide’s clothing and along his face. “hide-chan… why did you do this…?” Sensing no reply, a tear slides gently from Yoshiki’s tired eyes. He brushes some greasy strands of hair from his friend’s face and embraces him tightly. Sobs escape the broken confines of his emotions, causing his body to shake along with hide’s. After some moments, he finally pulls back, scrubbing away his warm tears quickly and refocusing his mind. He’s still so cold… and soaked with alcohol. I’ll… I’ll need to wash him. Deciding on this, he hesitantly begins to pull up on the sodden green sweater. With his free hand, he reaches to the water faucet and turns the knob, sending water rushing. His fingers touch the water and then adjust the knobs to his satisfaction. Yes, a warm bath will do him some good… The slender lyricist slips his fragile hands under hide’s sweater and tug it upward carefully. The pink-head lets out a slight noise, causing Yoshiki to stop for a moment. “hide-chan?” But he doesn’t respond. The blond proceeds, lifting hide’s arms over his head and sliding the alcohol-laden sweater off. He lets it crumble into a heap next to him and his eyes drink the sight before him. hide’s smooth chest, pale from lack of exposure, glimmers with the alcohol and sweat, lit in the warm glow of the dimmed bathroom light. His head tilted to the side, pink hair spilling over his eyes and shrouding his face, lips gently parted... hide's slight beer belly becomes delicious in the glow. Neatly placed in front of him, it didn’t matter what state he was in… hide was absolutely luscious. Shaking his head, Yoshiki clears his thoughts. You fucking dumbass… He leans forward again to his friend, touching the seam of his pants. I have to do this quickly… As gently as possible, he begins to unbutton hide’s pants. Sliding the metal disk from the slit, he then pulls down the zipper, the sound filling the room as it is the only sound besides the soft hiss of the running water. The delicate man scoots himself to hide’s side. Using his bare back to brace hide’s torso against the tub, he latches his thumbs onto the sides of the apparently unconscious guitarist’s black pants and carefully slips them over his hips. A bulge makes itself quite apparent under the revealed boxers. Yoshiki blinks. Well… he –is- drunk… He stares for a moment. And… alcohol… does weird things… He shakes his head. God… Leaning forward to slide the pants off his legs, the blond also removes his shoes. The sharp lean causes Yoshiki to hover inches above the pink-head. His jerking movements while removing the shoes touch his bare chest unintentionally to the top of the lump in short taps. hide twitches, releasing another small noise. Stopping again, the drummer blinks. Well… he –is unconscious… He doesn’t know what he’s doing… even though his body feels… He tugs the shoes off, followed by the pants. Just a reaction…Straightening his back, Yoshiki looks to hide’s glazed eyes, swearing they were watching him. Again, he shakes his head. You’re pathetic. He crawls back in front of hide and places his hands on the elastic of his boxers, pausing and blushing. Well… I suppose I could just wash him in his boxers… but…His eyes scrunch up in concentration as he weighs his choices. What the hell…Yoshiki slips his fingertips under the elastic, tugging the material down from his hips. The bulge, free from its fabric cage, springs to its true height, causing a deep rose color to fill Yoshiki’s face. He turns his head shyly. Damn… Facing back to his fallen bandmate, he completes the task of removing the boxers. This done, the blond slides his arms under hide’s chubby thighs and behind his sweaty back. Trying hard to ignore his thoughts and the pressure in his pants, he hoists hide onto the wall of the tub and holds him there while he moves to sit beside him on the side of the tub. Careful not to let hide slip, he lowers him into the warm water. He moves his hand to the side of hide’s face and gently supports his lifeless head above the water. With his other hand, Yoshiki grasps a crimson washcloth from a nearby rack. After dipping it into the water, he scrubs it on the bar of soap in the soap rack next to the faucet. Finally, he turns his gaze back to hide, rolling the cloth in his fingers to smudge the soap. I hope this helps revive him… The churning water reflects a slight glow from under hide’s face, which is gradually filling with color, though under his eyes remains a coalish black. Puzzled, Yoshiki smooths his thumb over the dark area and smears a greasy substance. Makeup… He blinks. Naaaaah… hide –always- wears dark makeup under his eyes… He wouldn’t fake something serious like this… He shakes his head and touches the washcloth to the pink-head’s shoulder. His hand lightly moves the cloth in circles over hide’s dirty skin and easily begins to scrub away the grimy residue. A rose scent gradually takes the place of the sour smell of the alcohol and sweat and hide’s pinkish skin begins to reveal itself with lush color in the water gently lapping around him. Yoshiki slowly moves downward over his bandmate’s soiled body, cleansing it carefully while the foamy soap curves in swirls over the surface of the water. His hand barely submerged under the water over hide’s stomach, the blond-haired pianist circles the cloth soothingly against hide’s round belly. The guitarist lets out another slight noise, sounding strangely similar to a restrained moan. Stopping, Yoshiki cocks a brow and fixes his eyes on the rose-smelling hide’s face. He blinks then shakes his head. If he’s just playing… I’m going to kill him… Focusing again on his task, he rubs the soapy washcloth along hide’s sides and hips. The pink-haired man twitches slightly at this. No no no no… He’s not conscious of his actions. hide’s body is reacting, but he doesn’t know it because he’s unconscious. …or at least he better be. He casts a glare to hide, just in case. The silence in the room amplifies the soft swishing of the water around hide’s body and the steady breath moving in and out of his lungs. Yoshiki sighs. I shouldn’t be thinking like this… I’m taking it wrongly. hide trusted me to take care of him when he came here… and I’m being a pervert. The fragile-bodied man looks downward, his hair concealing his face in golden curtains. Sighing again, he turns his eyes back to the water, accidentally looking straight at a certain protruding pinkish object in the water. Yoshiki blinks. My… that’s… He closes his eyes, letting out a frustrated breath. I have to get this over with. The drummer begins determinedly scrubbing hide’s limp form again, still gently but more quickly than before. His thin hands move the cloth over hide’s hips in choppy motions and cause the guitarist to jerk and his breath to quicken. Making a point to ignore this, Yoshiki continues, attempting to avoid touching a certain area and just barely accomplishing this. However, as he moves down along hide’s pudgy thighs, his arm brushes over the tip of the tall island. A sudden shiver moves over the pink-haired man’s body as another strange sound escapes his throat, this time long and slightly high-pitched. Yoshiki blushes and moves his arm quickly away, causing the water to rock in the tub and hide to begin sliding downward. The blond lets out a yelp before leaning over to grasp hide’s shoulders. His head lolling forward, the guitarist’s pink locks brush the water’s surface. As his taisho lifts him up, the clear, warm water drops in thin rivers over hide’s placid face from the pink strands of hair clinging to it. The water swiftly glides along the curves of his face before collecting again in the shimmering water of the bath. Yoshiki blinks. Feeling the building pressure in his pants, the drummer decides to get back to work promptly before his pants no longer fit. Yoshiki presses one hand to hide’s chest to keep him from slipping down again and uses his other to continue the work of scrubbing the guitarist clean. He moves the soapy cloth down hide’s legs, freeing them of the grime easily in the warm water. Finally, he scrubs the slightly smaller man’s feet clean. Looking over his work, Yoshiki smiles. hide is now clean, except his knotted hair, which is wet only at the tips. The blond cups some water in his hands and lifts it over the pink fuzzball. He lets the clear liquid fall over hide’s head, watching as it cascades over the docile face in shimmering curtains. Running a thin hand through the pink strands, Yoshiki moves the slightly older man’s hair from his face. He watches hide breathe slowly, his eyes gently slipped shut while the glittery water shimmers on his wet skin. I can’t wash his hair out, he decides. I don’t know if I’d be able to rinse it out thoroughly without causing him to inhale water... The blond removes his hand from the pink hair and squeezes out the soaked washcloth.

*blinketh* 'Kay, it's not done yet. Sue meh. ^^