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hailstorms) wrote2013-08-10 01:15 pm
hailstorms) wrote2013-08-10 01:15 pm
Entry tags:
[au meme] #4 - idol au
~700 words
dorumiza
Durbe has every one of his CDs, a neat little row of them on his bookcase, and that’s... nice, really. And Durbe doesn’t have other CDs, just the neat little collection of Mizael’s - all signed, of course, because why wouldn’t he when it gets him a quiet, amused laugh every time - and the sleek player Mizael had given him along with the first one.
Only, he’s started to wonder. Because whenever he gives Durbe one of them, there’s the laugh, and Durbe promises to listen to it later, except that Mizael has never once seen him listen to anything at all on that CD player with its fine layer of dust. So, yeah, he’s starting to wonder, because Durbe’s nice and he has to know it’d hurt Mizael if he didn’t accept them and keep them. And, you know, Mizael isn’t stupid, maybe he’s not like Durbe with his classics major and his bookcases full of huge books with tiny font but he’s not stupid. He knows Durbe’s tastes probably don’t run toward the ‘auto-tuned pop’ side of things where music is concerned.
It shouldn’t hurt, not when Durbe is clearly trying, not when Mizael’s music was never going to be his kind of thing. It shouldn’t hurt.
It does, though.
He wants Durbe to listen to his music, to enjoy it, because auto-tuned pop or not it’s important to him. And so is Durbe.
(if Vector ever so much as senses a thought like that in Mizael’s head, Mizael is never going to live it down)
Still. The point is, Durbe’s tastes have to be more refined than Mizael’s usual music. So Mizael will make something better, something just for him.
It takes him weeks of picking at it in every spare moment, writing and rewriting and tossing it away and restarting over and over because this has to be right, this has to be perfect. He sacrifices sleep for it, ignores the sighs of the makeup department whenever he has an interview or a photoshoot and they have to spend extra time trying to fix the bags under his eyes.
Finally, though, it’s done. It’s perfect, something nothing like his usual work because this is special, this is all for Durbe.
He doesn’t bother trying to make himself look nice, not when he’s this excited, except then Durbe asks if he’s sick and, wow, okay, is the fact he’s not wearing any makeup really that unfortunate? No, he snaps out, thrusts the CD into Durbe’s hands and then sort of panics a little because, oh god, what if it isn’t perfect, what if it’s wrong what if Durbe hates it, and he kind of wants to snatch the CD back again but no, he can’t do that, so instead he turns away quickly, calls back make sure you listen to it! on his way to the elevator.
He should stay away longer, should keep calm about it and give Durbe time to listen to it and think about it.
(he doesn’t)
After an aborted attempt to get some sleep, he settles instead for just showering and putting on better clothes and makeup - because, yeah, he doesn’t really feel much like Durbe asking if he’s sick again - and he’s outside Durbe’s door again three hours after he left the first time. He does, at least, manage to wait until he’s in and on the couch, picking at one of the threadbare cushions, before he blurts out, “Did you listen to it? What did you think?”
The answer he gets is Durbe smiling around the rim off his coffee mug and setting it back down on the table, and then leaning across to kiss him. It’s... not exactly the stars and fireworks Mizael had in mind for their first kiss, when it’s Durbe’s lips - still wet from his coffee - barely brushing his cheek, but the point is that Durbe listened to the song and now he’s kissing Mizael and objectively bad kiss or not, Mizael is pretty sure he might have just died and gone to heaven.
“So you liked it?” he asks, once he’s managed to regain his senses a little.
“Well,” Durbe answers, “I’ll admit I prefer your usual work...”
(Mizael punches him in the arm)
dorumiza
Durbe has every one of his CDs, a neat little row of them on his bookcase, and that’s... nice, really. And Durbe doesn’t have other CDs, just the neat little collection of Mizael’s - all signed, of course, because why wouldn’t he when it gets him a quiet, amused laugh every time - and the sleek player Mizael had given him along with the first one.
Only, he’s started to wonder. Because whenever he gives Durbe one of them, there’s the laugh, and Durbe promises to listen to it later, except that Mizael has never once seen him listen to anything at all on that CD player with its fine layer of dust. So, yeah, he’s starting to wonder, because Durbe’s nice and he has to know it’d hurt Mizael if he didn’t accept them and keep them. And, you know, Mizael isn’t stupid, maybe he’s not like Durbe with his classics major and his bookcases full of huge books with tiny font but he’s not stupid. He knows Durbe’s tastes probably don’t run toward the ‘auto-tuned pop’ side of things where music is concerned.
It shouldn’t hurt, not when Durbe is clearly trying, not when Mizael’s music was never going to be his kind of thing. It shouldn’t hurt.
It does, though.
He wants Durbe to listen to his music, to enjoy it, because auto-tuned pop or not it’s important to him. And so is Durbe.
(if Vector ever so much as senses a thought like that in Mizael’s head, Mizael is never going to live it down)
Still. The point is, Durbe’s tastes have to be more refined than Mizael’s usual music. So Mizael will make something better, something just for him.
It takes him weeks of picking at it in every spare moment, writing and rewriting and tossing it away and restarting over and over because this has to be right, this has to be perfect. He sacrifices sleep for it, ignores the sighs of the makeup department whenever he has an interview or a photoshoot and they have to spend extra time trying to fix the bags under his eyes.
Finally, though, it’s done. It’s perfect, something nothing like his usual work because this is special, this is all for Durbe.
He doesn’t bother trying to make himself look nice, not when he’s this excited, except then Durbe asks if he’s sick and, wow, okay, is the fact he’s not wearing any makeup really that unfortunate? No, he snaps out, thrusts the CD into Durbe’s hands and then sort of panics a little because, oh god, what if it isn’t perfect, what if it’s wrong what if Durbe hates it, and he kind of wants to snatch the CD back again but no, he can’t do that, so instead he turns away quickly, calls back make sure you listen to it! on his way to the elevator.
He should stay away longer, should keep calm about it and give Durbe time to listen to it and think about it.
(he doesn’t)
After an aborted attempt to get some sleep, he settles instead for just showering and putting on better clothes and makeup - because, yeah, he doesn’t really feel much like Durbe asking if he’s sick again - and he’s outside Durbe’s door again three hours after he left the first time. He does, at least, manage to wait until he’s in and on the couch, picking at one of the threadbare cushions, before he blurts out, “Did you listen to it? What did you think?”
The answer he gets is Durbe smiling around the rim off his coffee mug and setting it back down on the table, and then leaning across to kiss him. It’s... not exactly the stars and fireworks Mizael had in mind for their first kiss, when it’s Durbe’s lips - still wet from his coffee - barely brushing his cheek, but the point is that Durbe listened to the song and now he’s kissing Mizael and objectively bad kiss or not, Mizael is pretty sure he might have just died and gone to heaven.
“So you liked it?” he asks, once he’s managed to regain his senses a little.
“Well,” Durbe answers, “I’ll admit I prefer your usual work...”
(Mizael punches him in the arm)