Kamijo heaved an exhausted sigh, before dramatically throwing himself, face-down, onto the leather sofa of his apartment's sitting room. The young man let out a muffled groan into a pillow, then remained, unmoving, on the piece of furniture.

All day, he had been terribly tired. An urgent project had kept him up, late into the night, and an early morning meeting had forced him out of the warm cocoon of his bed, well before the sun had even risen. The frosty, pre-autumn chill that had greeted him as soon as he set foot outside of his home had definitely made him more alert, but had not at all made him more willing to have left his bed.

At the recording studio, there had not only been a technical malfunction with the heating system, but the air conditioning had been on as well, full blast, and he, along with his bandmates, had spent the majority of the day shivering over their instruments. While they composed more music (or at least, attempted to), a staff member had tried to fix the disruption in the buildings heating, but had been unable to, and all were eventually forced to rely on hot drinks and blankets that were thankfully in the studio. No one had thought to bring more clothing, other than a light fall jacket, as they had all assumed that the studio would be, as usual, a place of warmth.

Instead, they eventually had to cut the practice session in the "ice box" short, as Kamijo was unable to stop his teeth from chattering when he had to record, while the others experienced complaints from their conditioned instruments.

A brief practice hadn't meant that Kamijo was off the hook, however- he had still had to face an afternoon packed with errands and, once he had returned to the warmth of the underground speed-train system, his body responded with fatigue at having expended a good deal of energy in trying to keep warm, while in the studio.

It was with a half-present mind that Kamijo had gone to the bank to deposit a cheque, attended an appointment with his financial advisor, in order to open a new savings account, dropped off and paid the fine of a set of overdue library books, gone to the dry-cleaners, and back, to have a delicate comforter for winter washed and stopped by the pet-store to buy more food for his and his lover's dog.

All of these were mundane, everyday tasks that many would never have associated with Versaille's "Prince of Romance". But -alas!- Kamijo was an ordinary man, living a relatively ordinary life, who had had the chance to turn one of his passions into a little more than a hobby.

Much like any "ordinary" person returning home from a long day at the office, Kamijo had wanted to drop to his knees and kiss the floor of his shoe and coat room, the minute he had locked the front door behind him. In fact, the only thing that had stopped him from such a theatrical, yet pathetically genuine, display, was the high probability that once he hit the ground, he would not be apt to move from the spot until his boyfriend came home and carried "Kamijo the Rag Doll" up to bed.

It was miraculous, really, that he had been able to make it to the sofa, at all. But now that he had collapsed in comfort, he planned on leaving any other unfinished tasks to Gackt.

The older man, and Kamijo's lover for several years, had offered to help him out with the hoard of errands that he had managed to complete that afternoon. But, "the beacon of romance", himself, knew that his boyfriend was just as busy, if not more, with his own multi-dimensional and internationally recognized career. Since the recording studio was en route to the bank, Kamijo had figured that he could make a quick stop on his way home...and if he was going to look after the financial matters, he might as well do the whole lot and get everything done. He had begun to regret his decision, however, when he began to nod off on the way to the pet store, and now, he was in a state of near unconsciousness.

Kamijo was only just beginning to let the warm, fantasy bubble of sleep enclose his spent frame, when his cellphone rung with a soft melody that now seemed as piercing and disruptive as an arrow shot through a smooth, tranquil pond to the half-asleep man.

Kamijo gave a frustrated sob into the sofa cushion that currently engulfed his face. The gesture was indeed unworthy of the dignified, ever-composed stage persona he adopted, but he couldn't care less. He was home, at last, he was tired and he would protest in answering the phone as immaturely as he wanted to.

Despite his resolve, however, there was no way that he could ignore the persistant ringtone.

"...Lucy, could you get that, please?" Kamijo turned a little to expose his face, and address the small dog that was peering curiously at her crumbling master.

Kamijo felt pathetically desperate at having been driven to the point that he was asking his pet for assistance. But he was so drained of energy that his cellphone, lying only a few paces away in the pocket of his carelessly discarded jacket, seemed much too far for his leadened arm to reach.

He had no choice, however, but to answer the phone, and there was no one else who could answer it for him.

And so, in a less than elegant manner, Kamijo let his weary body slide off of the couch and with what little strength he had left, crawled to his coat and fished the phone from his pocket. He actually had to stop and think, for a moment, before locating the right button to accept the call.

"Hello...?" He moaned into the phone, not having bothered to check the call display.

On the other end of the call, Gackt frowned in confusion at the indistinguishable voice, akin to that of a dying cow, answered his boyfriend's phone.

"...Kamijo? Is that you?" He asked, pulling the phone away from his ear to double check that he had dialled the correct number.

"Yes," Kamijo confirmed, briefly. Normally, he would have continued on with their conversation, but his mind had barely registered the fact that his lover had phoned him.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Gackt asked, concerned. He'd left even earlier than Kamijo had, that morning, and wondered if his lover had fallen ill.

"...I guess. But...I'm soo tired!!" Kamijo complained, hugging Lucy to him as she at his earrings, not at all caring that he had transformed into a five year old child. With Gackt, it was okay; he didn't have to be an adult if he didn't want to.

Gackt chuckled as he cleared another unit of stairs, making his way to the parking lot of the studio that he himself had been recording in. (The heating system was working perfectly fine, in his building.)

"Aww...Do you want me to give you a massage tonight?" He offered, knowing that massages were Kamijo's favorite thing when he was tired, provided that it was Gackt giving him the massage.

"If you're up to it," Kamijo answered, knowing that his lover had had a busy day, as well, but smiled with a little more energy at how sweet Gackt had always been to him.

"Always," Gackt smiled, springing down the last few steps and stepping out of the building and into the parking lot. "I'm assuming you don't want to cook, so what do you want me to pick up for supper?"

"Are you sure you should...? I mean someone might recognize you. I can always go," Kamijo said. Usually, he was the one who went out to complete public errands. He wasn't as famous as his lover, and it was usually only relatively few people who would recognize him, and approach him in a much more civil manner. Gackt, on the other hand, was almost as famous in certain foreign countries as he was in Japan, and his wide array of fans included many different people...some who were a little less than moderate in their expressions of expression and support.

"Don't worry, I know a few places where I'm a regular, and no one really cares who I am," Gackt reassured.

They settled on noodles, from a traditional little noodle house that Gackt had known since childhood. The elderly couple who ran the restaurant were the same that had worked there, decades ago and were careful to keep his identity secret.

Feeling a little less drab after his conversation with his lover, Kamijo smiled, ran his fingers through Lucy's golden fur and threw himself back down on the couch, deciding to try and sleep a little and succumb to his nagging fatigue.

-----

The Kamijo that Gackt found, curled up on the sitting room sofa with a rich brown suede throw cast over his body, was a far cry from the mysterious, vampiric Kamijo that was broadcasted for the world to see. He still had his usual makeup in place, and his shiny, dyed light-brown hair was still as carefully and masterfully styled as usual, but Gackt felt that Kamijo looked like an adorable cat, more than anything else, as he'd somehow managed to make himself impossibly compact.

Gackt smiled, and padded quietly into the kitchen, depositing the bag of home-cooked style noodles he'd picked up, then returned to the sitting room, minus Lucy, who had stayed in the kitchen, eyeing the noodles, hopefully.

Gackt knelt beside the sofa, so that he was level with his lover's still sleeping face. He smiled, brushing away some of Kamijo's silky hair that had fallen in his face, with an almost non-existant touch, then simply watched his boyfriend sleep, for a moment.Then, kissed his lover's cheek, lightly, before making his way down to his neck and letting his tongue caress Kamijo's rose-flavored skin.

"Hmm...I'll get you your dinner in a minute, Lucy..." Kamijo muttered, slightly awake, but not nearly enough to differentiate between his pet and his lover.

Gackt smirked against his lover's deceptively delicate flesh.

"I'm not Lucy," he whispered into his lover's pierced ear.

Kamijo's eyes flew open, his half-conscious mind startled at the possibilities that there was either a maniac intruder in his home, or that his dog had suddenly been given the ability to speak with a very deep, masculine voice.

"Ahh!" Kamijo squeaked in a very un-Kamijo like way. Then he breathed a sigh of relief upon registering his lover's highly amused face, only a few centimeters from his own.

"Oh...it's just you," Kamijo sighed, making Gackt laugh.

"What do you mean, 'it's just me'," he inquired with a grin. 

Kamijo blushed at how close their lips were. Even after so many years, Gackt still made him feel all fluttery inside.

"Well, I thought you were a robber, or something," he put in, slowly uncurling himself.

"Sorry I scared you, baby," Gackt smiled, rubbing his thumb over Kamijo's cheekbone with tenderness, before giving his lover a kiss.

Kamijo smiled and wrapped his arms around Gackt's neck, letting his older partner pull him upright.

"Ugh...I forgot to remove my makeup..." Kamijo remarked, rubbing off his own lipgloss from Gackt's lips. Applying makeup, even when he was going out for errands had become a habit of his. He didn't really want any "unflattering" photos, taken without his knowledge, going around and stirring up gossip.

Gackt smiled and off the clear, vanilla-flavored substance, brushing Kamijo's thumb with his tongue, in the process.

"I'll help you with that," he volunteered, getting up and retreating down the hall to collect the needed makeup remving supplies from the lavatory.

He returned quickly, then sat down beside Kamijo, placed the cleansing solutions, as well as a pile of cotton pads on the coffee table, and set to work, removing his lover's makeup so that he wouldn't have to expend energy doing it, himself.

Kamijo enjoyed the feeling of the cool cotton being gently dabbed on his skin, and he felt a little more awake and refreshed, as his naturally pretty skin was allowed to breath freely, again. He smiled as Gackt hummed softly while working, meticulous as always.

"There," he smiled, finishing the job and discarding the makeup saturated cotton in a nearby waste basket. "You need to eat more," he noted, poking Kamijo's prominent cheekbones that were more boney than ever, with the absence of his usual paints and potions. 

Kamijo opened his mouth, about to retort with a "So do you!'', but as his lover's biceps flexed, he realized that his argument would have no validity. Instead, he pouted a little, only to have his peach lips devoured by his lover, once again.

Seeing as Kamijo was not too keen to move from his current station on the sofa, Gackt brought their meal into the sitting room, setting up a dinner table on the coffee table, and brought Lucy's bowl out, as well, so that she could join them. Kamijo was touched by the lengths that his lover was willing to go, for his sake.

Despite his lingering fatigue, Kamijo was able to find his appetite, and the couple found that they had a new favorite restaurant.

"And no one recognized you?" Kamijo asked, in disbelief.

"Not a soul," Gackt smiled. "I could take you there on the weekend, if you want," he grinned.

Kamijo blushed, accepting the invitation. Although their romance was by no means losing its fervour, he and Gackt hadn't had a chance to go out on a proper date in a long time. The closest thing to a public date that they'd had was a ten minute long interview, in which they had to act as if they were only superficially acquainted, that had been interrupted by Miyavi, anyways.

They didn't bother with the dishes, and loaded the dish washer, instead. Kamijo somehow found the strength to take a shower, but found himself back on the couch again, as he waited for Gackt to finish his. 

He didn't have to use the decorative throw on the back of the sofa for warmth, anymore, as Gackt's arms were more than enough to do the trick. They watched a televised film, not surprisingly involving vampires, then Kamijo found himself being carried upstairs to their bedroom, for the night, with Lucy hopping up the stairs after her masters.

Kamijo smiled as Gackt laid him down, gently, then joined him in bed.

"How is it that you have so much energy?" He inquired, a sleepy, dream-like quality in his voice. Gackt often stayed awake later, and rose earlier than he, yet was filled with twice amuch energy.

"Because I'm older than you," Gackt smiled, in response.

"Only by two years!" Kamijo objected. "Besides, that should make me more energetic than you. Really, how do you do it? And don't tell me it's because you're a vampire."

Gackt chuckled, then, to Kamijo's surprise, he turned over, so that he hovered intimately over the younger man's body.

"I have so much energy during the day, or when I'm on tour because I know I'll be able to come home to you," he said, honestly. "The more effort I put in my work, the more efficiently I can finish and be able to do this..."

He pressed his lips against Kamijo's in a deep, blush-inducing kiss.

"I love you," he smiled, against Kamijo's pinkened lips, when they broke apart.

"I love you, too," Kamijo smiled back, feeling very special and loved, indeed.

"And," Gackt added, lying down again and pulling Kamijo against his chest, before turning off the lights, with Lucy curling up for the night in the small space between the two men's bodies. "Me being a vampire helps a little, too."

Note:

Hope this was enjoyable to read, even if Kamijo is ridiculously out of his perceived character ^^"

x Angela