[Fic] The Sweet Taste Of Doom (Oneshot)
Title: The Sweet Taste Of Doom
Pairing: Kawashima Noeru / Shimekake Ryuya
Genre: AU, angst
Summary: To be good, to be a role model, to be what they expect him to be...all until he's lured by the sinful hope of freedom.
A/N: Inspired by Acid Black Cherry's "Chou" MV.
The Sweet Taste Of Doom
Red velvet curtains behind them, people dancing in front of them, the long table in the corner of the room, full of glasses and bottles of different drinks… the chandeliers are lit with their atmospheric lights, the men are dressed in their formal suits, and the women steal random glances towards the small stage, as if they can absorb the beauty of the music that way.
Noeru knows, he’s seen it all before. The public displays of luxury they want to show. The high level of society, the almost-royal ones. The very important ones. He has made his way up to their circles after a lot of effort, even though he has no obligations to any of them, and he can do whatever he wants, no matter the financial status of his clients. He’s a singer; the moment he’s offered money, he takes it.
But it’s only natural to feel more satisfied whenever the rich invite him to their levees, their balls, their formal events that usually celebrate birthdays or a new company. It has become his personal achievement; other friends of his that sing too are sometimes jealous, because they just cannot seem to be able to grasp the emotion needed, the vibe to make them conspicuous to the eyes of the wealthy. Noeru just shrugs innocently everytime they ask him how he does it.
It’s not like he can explain. He just knows he has what it takes. The charm. The attitude, the passion. His aura is nothing royal-like, but he has something that attracts people like bees are attracted to honey.
Same thing happens tonight. The guests at the “party” are the best of the best, the elite, the elegant. College graduates, men and women with their own power and fortune, their sons and daughters dressed in fancy clothes and heavy accessories, all of them part of the money game. The more you show, the more tempting you become.
Noeru acts like it doesn’t matter to him. He’s here to entertain them all with his voice, anyway. His own target is his 55SH Elvis microphone, the object he’s probably gonna end up flirting with for the rest of the night. He holds the stand with his other hand, rocking it back and forth whenever necessary, keeping a neutral, but mysterious face as well. He lets his eyes wander around the room some more; some of the guests are looking at him, some even seem to be commenting on something. His voice, probably. Noeru knows he doesn’t have the kind of voice that would be widely considered “good”, but he has a unique tone that no one can compare to, and that’s exactly what these stuck-up, arrogant people are looking for.
Something to separate them from the mass, to make them shine among the rest. And inviting Noeru to their event is definitely that something.
His eyes stop for more than a second to someone, and that’s when he knows he’s been charmed. It’s a boy, maybe a young man, definitely younger than him. He’s standing close to the table, along with 3 girls, or ladies. When they wear makeup, all the girls are ladies, women craving for love and heat and attention. Noeru stares a bit more; the boy’s hair color is light, a little darker than his with one side combed to the side, and the other slight slicked behind his ear. He’s wearing a simple black tuxedo, even though it’s pretty obvious it’s one of the most expensive ones in the room. Noeru is not an expert, but he’s learned a lot.
He brings the microphone closer to his mouth, running his lace-coated fingers on it, and looks elsewhere for a moment, but his whole system urges him to look back. He keeps singing while staring, and one of the girls leans closer to the other, whispering something. The young man looks at them as if he wants to take part in their conversation, but then his eyes flicker to Noeru, and he looks serious, maybe even a little alarmed.
And not in a good way.
Noeru is now staring without the slightest of shame; how many are even paying attention to his face, anyway? He’s here to make them happy with his voice, and even though he knows a few of them have the hots for him, he’s not really interested. Not unless drunk, at least.
But this is different. And once his song is over and he has to take a step back and bow, he realizes how hard it is to look elsewhere.
Despite that, he does as he has to, and then softly walks down the small stage. A waiter walks up to him immediately, and Noeru takes the glass he’s offered with a courteous smile, making sure he won’t spill anything. He wouldn’t want his gloves to be stained.
“Thank you. I needed a drink after so much singing, and I wouldn’t want to disturb the group of beautiful ladies and gentlemen over there…”
The waiter turns to look and tilts his head with a hum. “Ah, such a common image…”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not a rare sight at all, seeing the young Shimekake surrounded by the ladies. He turned 20 a week ago, and his parents have spent the past month sending him to every celebration the people of their circle organize. You can imagine how things work here. Sooner or later, he’ll have to be betrothed.”
“Shimekake…” Noeru mutters, and then a small smile is spread on his face. “Is he related to the Shimekake Ship Company?”
“He’s the son of the owner. An only child, so you get the point.” The waiter replies quietly. “His parents are pushing him to get involved with someone of their status, which is why you’ll rarely see him without a couple of girls around him.”
Like right now. Noeru eyes him again, his face feeling a little hotter all of a sudden. He’s heard a lot about that owner, a man with a heart made of steel, almost vicious with his ways. Noeru can understand up to a certain point; he can imagine it’s not easy leading such a huge company. But he’s not sure he understands the lack of limits between the owner of the company and the father of a son.
The mischief in him is calling again. And so, he gives the glass back to the waiter, and starts walking towards them.
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“Listen to that voice…it’s so unique, isn’t it?”
“He’s the latest trend, and he deserves all the attention-“
“He’s looking at our way! Look!”
With all the talking, Shime has no choice but to look as well. He usually doesn’t care about the musical entertainment, or the musicians invited to these occasions. He is too busy being the role model, the gentleman of the night. One that can have all these ladies around him without making any of them jealous. With his quiet, almost reserved self, it’s no wonder they never pull away.
He’d make the perfect silent husband, he knows.
But right now, he looks at the singer on stage. He recalls having read his name on the invitation. Kawashima…something…Noeru? This must be it. Shime doesn’t forget names once he’s read or heard them. It’s a habit he has acquired from his childhood years, because that’s what he was told to do. The girls are also gazing at him.
“Doesn’t he look too mysterious?”
“And young, too.” The other girl speaks. “But in reality, he’s not as young as he looks.”
He certainly doesn’t look like it, Shime thinks. He feels it creeping inside, lurking in the shadows of his core, and his stomach churns just a little when their eyes eventually meet. Or maybe they don’t, he’s not sure. But Noeru keeps glancing towards their direction, to the point Shime feels a little threatened.
Not that he could steal any of these girls. As famous as Noeru is, he’s still not part of their world, and Shime knows the parents of these ladies would never give their permission. But despite knowing that, Noeru is still flirting with them, his eyes full of fire and will. And Shime feels inferior all of a sudden, and he averts his own gaze.
But he is beautiful, he cannot deny that. A little too flashy for his likings; wearing a waistcoat underneath his unbuttoned jacket, and a boutonniere, too. Not to mention the lace gloves that Shime has only seen on women’s hands. One side of his hair is up in cornrows, revealing a fierce jawline, and an alluring expression.
He has to keep the crowd interested somehow, Shime guesses. And he doesn’t know about the others, but he is definitely doing a great job with the females around him.
The girls start talking again once the song is over and Noeru steps down from the stage, and Shime forces himself to focus on their conversation. But a minute passes, and then suddenly, Noeru is walking up to them, and Shime does not know what to do, how to react. The girls are agitated now, he can practically feel their inner tremble. They are pretty, with their jewelleries and their red lips, and the colorful dresses…
Noeru is eyeing them one by one before he reaches them, his face holding a serious, but somehow peaceful expression, the kind of kindness he has to show to them. He lowers his eyes, though, lowers them as he gets even closer, and Shime feels like he has to be ready to stop him if he tries to talk to the girls. Ok, maybe talking is ok, but if he tries to invite them for more, Shime knows he’s gonna have to interfere.
The first surprise happens when Noeru just quietly walks between them, inclining his head just enough to let them know that he acknowledges his presence and greets them. The girls are full of expectations, Shime can tell, he has noticed the anticipation they have been trying to hide. Well, Noeru is engaging in his own way, a way no one can figure out.
Less than two seconds later, Noeru brushes by him gently, almost as if he stumbled, and Shime does his best to keep a humble face, because two of the young man’s fingers are gently holding onto one of his as he passes by. It doesn’t last long, and hopefully no one notices, but Noeru lets go of him really slowly, almost pulling on his finger before he gets to the table with the drinks.
Shime sucks the corner of his bottom lip in, his stomach now fully turning upside down. He can hear Noeru’s voice as he’s talking with the second waiter. He is done for the night, he has finished his singing schedule. He turns, just a little, as if he can see like that over his shoulder, but it’s ok, because the girls have turned too, and they are staring, a little disappointed.
Shime’s shock is still too big to react, though. He’s only proud of himself for being able to hide it from his expression.
And he then notices the earring on Noeru’s ear. Yes, too flashy, indeed.
But the electricity-like feeling he’s got over that simple touch is not something he can ignore. In all the times he has to pretend he is excited by the company of girls around him, this is the oasis in his desert of inexistent emotions. There is something strong, that he cannot name.
“I guess I will go greet the host and return to my place.” Noeru speaks again, and his voice is a little louder, and this time, he actually turns to meet Shime’s gaze, and Shime is paralyzed for a split second, like he has been put under a spell. Noeru says nothing else, but this is his way of inviting him, and Shime knows he’s gonna have to answer to many people later, and he might even regret it, but all the acting has kept his own needs piled up inside, and now it’s too late to do something about it.
He mumbles “excuse me” to the ladies as Noeru starts walking away, and takes a deep breath before quietly following him.
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For a while, they don’t talk. They don’t look at each other. They’re not even walking next to each other. Noeru is walking on his own, while Shime follows closely behind, his eyes flickering right and left occasionally, just in case he sees a familiar face.
Not that it would be strange to be seen. But he still wishes he can keep this whole thing a secret. He’s not sure why he’s doing it, anyway. It’s the whole charm he cannot name, that something about Noeru that has them all on his feet, wrapped around his finger. Of course, that mostly applies to his performing abilities, but Shime is young, not stupid. He can tell some would kill to get into the sheets with him.
It doesn’t take long for them to leave the wealthy neighborhoods, and surprisingly, that’s when Shime allows himself to ease a little. At least now, the chances of being seen are getting fewer. There are people out in the streets, even though it’s pretty late, and for a second, Shime wants to get closer to Noeru, to make it obvious that they are together. He has heard stories about thieves ganging up on the rich, stealing their belongings…also, what if Noeru was just playing with him? What if he doesn’t give a damn?
But would he allow him to follow him if he had only been playing?
In between all the dirty-looking places, Noeru stops outside an old house, and Shime slows down as well, trying to see as many details as possible. It’s nowhere near their own class, but it still looks…good? Ready to collapse, but still…there is something about it, something elegant. A rare treasure. The windows on the second floor are slightly open, but there are curtains hanging, and Shime looks at Noeru once more; is he really leaving his house like this?
The next moment, though, the door is open, and Noeru enters, and then he finally turns while holding the knob, eyes piercing through Shime’s core, kind and inviting. The boy licks his bottom lip as it’s his own time to feel the inner shivers, and takes the steps necessary to walk in.
He’s met with dark, of course, and for a few seconds, he’s afraid to walk further inside. Especially when Noeru closes the door and they are swallowed by pitch black.
But his hand is in Noeru’s all of a sudden, and he feels it again. The spark. He draws in a breath that hopefully doesn’t sound too loud, and allows himself to be pulled gently to the front, as Noeru makes it further into the corridor.
“I’m saving money so we’ll have to settle with candles. It’s much better, anyway.”
Shime doesn’t say anything to that. There is another window without a curtain, and he can finally see in the dim light it allows in. He sees the spiral staircase, and he stops. Noeru looks at him again, a little curious, and a little impatient.
He reads the question in his eyes, Shime can tell. He smiles. “It was my grandfather’s home. He was never stinking rich, and he was on very bad terms with my parents, but he left it to me in his will. Of course, until recently, I didn’t have the money to take proper care of it. So don’t worry, we are not invading anyone’s personal space.”
That sounds a lot better, or maybe it’s Shime’s body complaining about the lack of action, so he just lets Noeru lead him to the stairs, and they’re going up, leaving the tiny bit of brightness behind.
He cannot see a thing again, he can just feel a thick carpet under his feet, and then he hears a door (or maybe two doors) opening, and then Noeru lets go of him. He stays rooted to his spot, listening to his sounds, until there’s a flame, and he can see Noeru’s face, lit by the candlestick he’s holding. He’s smiling.
“Give me one more minute.” He says softly, walking around, and Shime’s eyes go wide for a second. There is a desk against the right wall, and a candleholder with 3 candles on it. Two sconces on the walls that Noeru also lights, and now it’s easier for Shime to see the view.
He still doesn’t see much, but he realizes they are in a bedroom. The big bed is right across him, and there is also a chaise longue in the middle of the room. He has read about them…he has even seen one in the house of one of his father’s friends. All in all, for someone who has only started gaining fame and money recently, Noeru sure lives in a comfortable house.
The older one eventually puts the candlestick down, and takes slow steps towards Shime. The latter swallows again; his bowtie is suddenly too tight around his neck, and when Noeru stands before him, Shime has no word to let out.
Not that it matters. Noeru seems pretty capable of making a conversation of his own. He reaches up and runs his knuckles gently against Shime’s cheek, still wearing the gloves.
“You still haven’t told me your name, you know…” he whispers, leaning even closer, as if he wants his words to touch Shime’s skin somehow. It’s true, Shime realizes, and he knows Noeru is asking for his first name, because heck, everyone knows his last name and who he belongs to.
He feels really naïve all of a sudden.
“…Ryuya.” He mutters eventually, and Noeru smiles, just a little, before he slowly removes his gloves, letting them drop to the floor. Then he lands his hands on Shime’s jacket, and stares directly into his eyes, and Shime feels a weird kind of nausea as all the possibilities rush in his mind at once; if he’s found out, if he stays the night, if his father suspects, if the neighbors start gossiping…
“Can I take this off?”
Noeru’s mouth is magically next to his ear, and when he speaks, it’s like he’s blowing air, and Shime’s hair almost stands as he breathes in from his nose, and he knows this time it’s louder than usual. Something like a chuckle is heard from Noeru next, the fervor emitting from his body getting to Shime in the weirdest of ways.
He’s asking for permission, when he clearly knows Shime will not say no. Pretending, always pretending…
He nods, because he does not trust his voice, and Noeru slides his jacket down slowly, making sure Shime feels his hands against his body as he does so. Soon, it’s down on the carpet along with the gloves, and Noeru’s eyes run up and down Shime’s body, as if he’s already stripped to the bone.
Shime definitely feels that way.
A moment that feels like eternity later, Noeru cups his chin with two fingers, and brushes over his lips with his thumb. “So, tell me, Ryuya…” he says, and his voice is hoarse with danger, and Shime has never felt such a strong mix of fear and anticipation before, “do you trust me?”
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It’s not what they call “love at first sight”, but it doesn’t have to be. It is something more intense, maybe lust but not quite. It’s the scent of Shime’s hair, the quiet sounds that spill from his lips because he just can’t seem to be able to let his guard down. It’s his closed eyes, the way he’s clinging onto Noeru even before the last piece of clothing fell down on the floor. It’s the feeling, skin pressed against skin, the feeling of moving alongside Shime in the sheets, the cool night breeze against the drops of sweat glistering on their bodies like little diamonds.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, and Shime only took about 3 seconds before he said “yes”, before he surrendered to Noeru gently pulling him in for a kiss, lips meeting hesitatingly before they turned into a slow battle of passion. It’s like Shime was only dreading the first kiss, like he was ready to succumb after that.
Noeru has been in this situation before, spending the night with people from the high social class, people who wanted a night different, spent in “sin”, before they went back to their obligations the next morning. He is not new to this, but still, there is something, that different spark, the chemistry. The overwhelming sensation he feels when he leans down to kiss Shime, when Shime’s fingers are on his back, when his legs are up around Noeru’s waist. This is the presence of someone who longs to be free, dearly, wants to break the shackles they have him tied down with. This is someone who doesn’t want to stop at that one night of freedom and then casually slip the mask of wealth back on.
Not that it’s any of his business. But somehow, it’s as if Shime’s skin is tingling with that desire, and that makes him even more tempting, makes Noeru go deeper, take a hold of his hand and press their fingers together until it hurts. Shime goes along with it, young and fragile and eager, straight up to a dead end, but he would do it again, and Noeru would do it again as well, with him, for sure.
The night, it’s theirs.
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He’s not allowed, can’t do it, shouldn’t, he’d be doomed if anyone knew, he’ll be doomed if he gets addicted, he’s better than this. All the thoughts, all his fears, everything Shime has grown up with, taking every step while holding onto the hands of responsibility. He should be ashamed of what he’s doing.
Yet somehow this is what pulls him closer, the element of danger, the thrill, the forbidden. The satisfaction, that out of all the people in the room, Noeru chose him, chose him even for a night. The flame, or more like the fire, burning his insides, leading him to seek more, taste more, accept more, anything. All the worry he was feeling before, the shame, they’re all gone, because he wanted them gone, because that’s how willing he’s feeling all of a sudden.
Time loses its meaning, Shime loses his mind, his sanity, only sinks lower into that newborn feeling. It’s not love, nothing as gentle and deep and meaningful as that, but still, it’s something persistent, something that crawls under his skin and keeps him tied there, holding onto Noeru. They’re both chasing after something, maybe different, maybe the same, but their bodies know how to do the talking, know how and where to touch, know when to stop and when to keep going, until they’re breaking, until it’s too much for the both of them. Just a few hours and then he would go home…
But no, the first glimpse of the morning light finds him there, resting on the chaise longue, staring across the room with an empty look. It’s the first time in his life he feels like this, wishes that maybe, maybe he gets to experience this again. Not just for the sex, definitely not only for that. There is something else that Noeru has offered him, even while being in control. A freedom he wants to live with, even if it means going back to where he belongs. It’s confusing, words contradicting each other, but Shime finds peace in it, serenity.
He doesn’t turn when he hears noises behind him, and then he can feel Noeru standing behind him, leaning down at him. Shime closes his eyes and rests his head back, Noeru’s lips light on his jawline and then down to his neck, fingers trailing up and down his bare arm. The familiarity…
“You want to go back, Ryuya?” he whispers, mumbles every word against his skin, and Shime takes another deep breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling.
“You want me to go back?”
“You want me to decide for you?”
Does he? Shime closes his eyes again, Noeru still dropping light kisses all over his neck, and he reaches out to entwine his fingers with Noeru’s. Just a little longer…
“You’re welcome to come back anytime you want, Ryuya.”
He’s shivering, Noeru’s voice evoking that urge in him once more, and he clenches his hand tighter, his lips quivering. Come back…is he serious? Is he playing with him?
“Why would you want me back here?” he asks, and Noeru finally sits down next to him, leans with his face so close that his nose is almost touching Shime’s.
“Because it’s doom.” He whispers, his breath hot against Shime’s face. “And you look pretty in doom.”
Yes, he likes doom. He can’t go back, can’t go forward, has no future, not the kind of future he is truly after. But this is not about the future. Noeru is here, in the present.
“You can’t tell them.” He says, moves closer, every word spoken on Noeru’s lips. “You can’t tell anyone. If you want to enjoy this with me-“
“I won’t.” Noeru promises, presses his lips on Shime’s once more before a faint smile appears on his face. “Until you break…I won’t.”
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Pairing: Kawashima Noeru / Shimekake Ryuya
Genre: AU, angst
Summary: To be good, to be a role model, to be what they expect him to be...all until he's lured by the sinful hope of freedom.
A/N: Inspired by Acid Black Cherry's "Chou" MV.
The Sweet Taste Of Doom
Red velvet curtains behind them, people dancing in front of them, the long table in the corner of the room, full of glasses and bottles of different drinks… the chandeliers are lit with their atmospheric lights, the men are dressed in their formal suits, and the women steal random glances towards the small stage, as if they can absorb the beauty of the music that way.
Noeru knows, he’s seen it all before. The public displays of luxury they want to show. The high level of society, the almost-royal ones. The very important ones. He has made his way up to their circles after a lot of effort, even though he has no obligations to any of them, and he can do whatever he wants, no matter the financial status of his clients. He’s a singer; the moment he’s offered money, he takes it.
But it’s only natural to feel more satisfied whenever the rich invite him to their levees, their balls, their formal events that usually celebrate birthdays or a new company. It has become his personal achievement; other friends of his that sing too are sometimes jealous, because they just cannot seem to be able to grasp the emotion needed, the vibe to make them conspicuous to the eyes of the wealthy. Noeru just shrugs innocently everytime they ask him how he does it.
It’s not like he can explain. He just knows he has what it takes. The charm. The attitude, the passion. His aura is nothing royal-like, but he has something that attracts people like bees are attracted to honey.
Same thing happens tonight. The guests at the “party” are the best of the best, the elite, the elegant. College graduates, men and women with their own power and fortune, their sons and daughters dressed in fancy clothes and heavy accessories, all of them part of the money game. The more you show, the more tempting you become.
Noeru acts like it doesn’t matter to him. He’s here to entertain them all with his voice, anyway. His own target is his 55SH Elvis microphone, the object he’s probably gonna end up flirting with for the rest of the night. He holds the stand with his other hand, rocking it back and forth whenever necessary, keeping a neutral, but mysterious face as well. He lets his eyes wander around the room some more; some of the guests are looking at him, some even seem to be commenting on something. His voice, probably. Noeru knows he doesn’t have the kind of voice that would be widely considered “good”, but he has a unique tone that no one can compare to, and that’s exactly what these stuck-up, arrogant people are looking for.
Something to separate them from the mass, to make them shine among the rest. And inviting Noeru to their event is definitely that something.
His eyes stop for more than a second to someone, and that’s when he knows he’s been charmed. It’s a boy, maybe a young man, definitely younger than him. He’s standing close to the table, along with 3 girls, or ladies. When they wear makeup, all the girls are ladies, women craving for love and heat and attention. Noeru stares a bit more; the boy’s hair color is light, a little darker than his with one side combed to the side, and the other slight slicked behind his ear. He’s wearing a simple black tuxedo, even though it’s pretty obvious it’s one of the most expensive ones in the room. Noeru is not an expert, but he’s learned a lot.
He brings the microphone closer to his mouth, running his lace-coated fingers on it, and looks elsewhere for a moment, but his whole system urges him to look back. He keeps singing while staring, and one of the girls leans closer to the other, whispering something. The young man looks at them as if he wants to take part in their conversation, but then his eyes flicker to Noeru, and he looks serious, maybe even a little alarmed.
And not in a good way.
Noeru is now staring without the slightest of shame; how many are even paying attention to his face, anyway? He’s here to make them happy with his voice, and even though he knows a few of them have the hots for him, he’s not really interested. Not unless drunk, at least.
But this is different. And once his song is over and he has to take a step back and bow, he realizes how hard it is to look elsewhere.
Despite that, he does as he has to, and then softly walks down the small stage. A waiter walks up to him immediately, and Noeru takes the glass he’s offered with a courteous smile, making sure he won’t spill anything. He wouldn’t want his gloves to be stained.
“Thank you. I needed a drink after so much singing, and I wouldn’t want to disturb the group of beautiful ladies and gentlemen over there…”
The waiter turns to look and tilts his head with a hum. “Ah, such a common image…”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, it’s not a rare sight at all, seeing the young Shimekake surrounded by the ladies. He turned 20 a week ago, and his parents have spent the past month sending him to every celebration the people of their circle organize. You can imagine how things work here. Sooner or later, he’ll have to be betrothed.”
“Shimekake…” Noeru mutters, and then a small smile is spread on his face. “Is he related to the Shimekake Ship Company?”
“He’s the son of the owner. An only child, so you get the point.” The waiter replies quietly. “His parents are pushing him to get involved with someone of their status, which is why you’ll rarely see him without a couple of girls around him.”
Like right now. Noeru eyes him again, his face feeling a little hotter all of a sudden. He’s heard a lot about that owner, a man with a heart made of steel, almost vicious with his ways. Noeru can understand up to a certain point; he can imagine it’s not easy leading such a huge company. But he’s not sure he understands the lack of limits between the owner of the company and the father of a son.
The mischief in him is calling again. And so, he gives the glass back to the waiter, and starts walking towards them.
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“Listen to that voice…it’s so unique, isn’t it?”
“He’s the latest trend, and he deserves all the attention-“
“He’s looking at our way! Look!”
With all the talking, Shime has no choice but to look as well. He usually doesn’t care about the musical entertainment, or the musicians invited to these occasions. He is too busy being the role model, the gentleman of the night. One that can have all these ladies around him without making any of them jealous. With his quiet, almost reserved self, it’s no wonder they never pull away.
He’d make the perfect silent husband, he knows.
But right now, he looks at the singer on stage. He recalls having read his name on the invitation. Kawashima…something…Noeru? This must be it. Shime doesn’t forget names once he’s read or heard them. It’s a habit he has acquired from his childhood years, because that’s what he was told to do. The girls are also gazing at him.
“Doesn’t he look too mysterious?”
“And young, too.” The other girl speaks. “But in reality, he’s not as young as he looks.”
He certainly doesn’t look like it, Shime thinks. He feels it creeping inside, lurking in the shadows of his core, and his stomach churns just a little when their eyes eventually meet. Or maybe they don’t, he’s not sure. But Noeru keeps glancing towards their direction, to the point Shime feels a little threatened.
Not that he could steal any of these girls. As famous as Noeru is, he’s still not part of their world, and Shime knows the parents of these ladies would never give their permission. But despite knowing that, Noeru is still flirting with them, his eyes full of fire and will. And Shime feels inferior all of a sudden, and he averts his own gaze.
But he is beautiful, he cannot deny that. A little too flashy for his likings; wearing a waistcoat underneath his unbuttoned jacket, and a boutonniere, too. Not to mention the lace gloves that Shime has only seen on women’s hands. One side of his hair is up in cornrows, revealing a fierce jawline, and an alluring expression.
He has to keep the crowd interested somehow, Shime guesses. And he doesn’t know about the others, but he is definitely doing a great job with the females around him.
The girls start talking again once the song is over and Noeru steps down from the stage, and Shime forces himself to focus on their conversation. But a minute passes, and then suddenly, Noeru is walking up to them, and Shime does not know what to do, how to react. The girls are agitated now, he can practically feel their inner tremble. They are pretty, with their jewelleries and their red lips, and the colorful dresses…
Noeru is eyeing them one by one before he reaches them, his face holding a serious, but somehow peaceful expression, the kind of kindness he has to show to them. He lowers his eyes, though, lowers them as he gets even closer, and Shime feels like he has to be ready to stop him if he tries to talk to the girls. Ok, maybe talking is ok, but if he tries to invite them for more, Shime knows he’s gonna have to interfere.
The first surprise happens when Noeru just quietly walks between them, inclining his head just enough to let them know that he acknowledges his presence and greets them. The girls are full of expectations, Shime can tell, he has noticed the anticipation they have been trying to hide. Well, Noeru is engaging in his own way, a way no one can figure out.
Less than two seconds later, Noeru brushes by him gently, almost as if he stumbled, and Shime does his best to keep a humble face, because two of the young man’s fingers are gently holding onto one of his as he passes by. It doesn’t last long, and hopefully no one notices, but Noeru lets go of him really slowly, almost pulling on his finger before he gets to the table with the drinks.
Shime sucks the corner of his bottom lip in, his stomach now fully turning upside down. He can hear Noeru’s voice as he’s talking with the second waiter. He is done for the night, he has finished his singing schedule. He turns, just a little, as if he can see like that over his shoulder, but it’s ok, because the girls have turned too, and they are staring, a little disappointed.
Shime’s shock is still too big to react, though. He’s only proud of himself for being able to hide it from his expression.
And he then notices the earring on Noeru’s ear. Yes, too flashy, indeed.
But the electricity-like feeling he’s got over that simple touch is not something he can ignore. In all the times he has to pretend he is excited by the company of girls around him, this is the oasis in his desert of inexistent emotions. There is something strong, that he cannot name.
“I guess I will go greet the host and return to my place.” Noeru speaks again, and his voice is a little louder, and this time, he actually turns to meet Shime’s gaze, and Shime is paralyzed for a split second, like he has been put under a spell. Noeru says nothing else, but this is his way of inviting him, and Shime knows he’s gonna have to answer to many people later, and he might even regret it, but all the acting has kept his own needs piled up inside, and now it’s too late to do something about it.
He mumbles “excuse me” to the ladies as Noeru starts walking away, and takes a deep breath before quietly following him.
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For a while, they don’t talk. They don’t look at each other. They’re not even walking next to each other. Noeru is walking on his own, while Shime follows closely behind, his eyes flickering right and left occasionally, just in case he sees a familiar face.
Not that it would be strange to be seen. But he still wishes he can keep this whole thing a secret. He’s not sure why he’s doing it, anyway. It’s the whole charm he cannot name, that something about Noeru that has them all on his feet, wrapped around his finger. Of course, that mostly applies to his performing abilities, but Shime is young, not stupid. He can tell some would kill to get into the sheets with him.
It doesn’t take long for them to leave the wealthy neighborhoods, and surprisingly, that’s when Shime allows himself to ease a little. At least now, the chances of being seen are getting fewer. There are people out in the streets, even though it’s pretty late, and for a second, Shime wants to get closer to Noeru, to make it obvious that they are together. He has heard stories about thieves ganging up on the rich, stealing their belongings…also, what if Noeru was just playing with him? What if he doesn’t give a damn?
But would he allow him to follow him if he had only been playing?
In between all the dirty-looking places, Noeru stops outside an old house, and Shime slows down as well, trying to see as many details as possible. It’s nowhere near their own class, but it still looks…good? Ready to collapse, but still…there is something about it, something elegant. A rare treasure. The windows on the second floor are slightly open, but there are curtains hanging, and Shime looks at Noeru once more; is he really leaving his house like this?
The next moment, though, the door is open, and Noeru enters, and then he finally turns while holding the knob, eyes piercing through Shime’s core, kind and inviting. The boy licks his bottom lip as it’s his own time to feel the inner shivers, and takes the steps necessary to walk in.
He’s met with dark, of course, and for a few seconds, he’s afraid to walk further inside. Especially when Noeru closes the door and they are swallowed by pitch black.
But his hand is in Noeru’s all of a sudden, and he feels it again. The spark. He draws in a breath that hopefully doesn’t sound too loud, and allows himself to be pulled gently to the front, as Noeru makes it further into the corridor.
“I’m saving money so we’ll have to settle with candles. It’s much better, anyway.”
Shime doesn’t say anything to that. There is another window without a curtain, and he can finally see in the dim light it allows in. He sees the spiral staircase, and he stops. Noeru looks at him again, a little curious, and a little impatient.
He reads the question in his eyes, Shime can tell. He smiles. “It was my grandfather’s home. He was never stinking rich, and he was on very bad terms with my parents, but he left it to me in his will. Of course, until recently, I didn’t have the money to take proper care of it. So don’t worry, we are not invading anyone’s personal space.”
That sounds a lot better, or maybe it’s Shime’s body complaining about the lack of action, so he just lets Noeru lead him to the stairs, and they’re going up, leaving the tiny bit of brightness behind.
He cannot see a thing again, he can just feel a thick carpet under his feet, and then he hears a door (or maybe two doors) opening, and then Noeru lets go of him. He stays rooted to his spot, listening to his sounds, until there’s a flame, and he can see Noeru’s face, lit by the candlestick he’s holding. He’s smiling.
“Give me one more minute.” He says softly, walking around, and Shime’s eyes go wide for a second. There is a desk against the right wall, and a candleholder with 3 candles on it. Two sconces on the walls that Noeru also lights, and now it’s easier for Shime to see the view.
He still doesn’t see much, but he realizes they are in a bedroom. The big bed is right across him, and there is also a chaise longue in the middle of the room. He has read about them…he has even seen one in the house of one of his father’s friends. All in all, for someone who has only started gaining fame and money recently, Noeru sure lives in a comfortable house.
The older one eventually puts the candlestick down, and takes slow steps towards Shime. The latter swallows again; his bowtie is suddenly too tight around his neck, and when Noeru stands before him, Shime has no word to let out.
Not that it matters. Noeru seems pretty capable of making a conversation of his own. He reaches up and runs his knuckles gently against Shime’s cheek, still wearing the gloves.
“You still haven’t told me your name, you know…” he whispers, leaning even closer, as if he wants his words to touch Shime’s skin somehow. It’s true, Shime realizes, and he knows Noeru is asking for his first name, because heck, everyone knows his last name and who he belongs to.
He feels really naïve all of a sudden.
“…Ryuya.” He mutters eventually, and Noeru smiles, just a little, before he slowly removes his gloves, letting them drop to the floor. Then he lands his hands on Shime’s jacket, and stares directly into his eyes, and Shime feels a weird kind of nausea as all the possibilities rush in his mind at once; if he’s found out, if he stays the night, if his father suspects, if the neighbors start gossiping…
“Can I take this off?”
Noeru’s mouth is magically next to his ear, and when he speaks, it’s like he’s blowing air, and Shime’s hair almost stands as he breathes in from his nose, and he knows this time it’s louder than usual. Something like a chuckle is heard from Noeru next, the fervor emitting from his body getting to Shime in the weirdest of ways.
He’s asking for permission, when he clearly knows Shime will not say no. Pretending, always pretending…
He nods, because he does not trust his voice, and Noeru slides his jacket down slowly, making sure Shime feels his hands against his body as he does so. Soon, it’s down on the carpet along with the gloves, and Noeru’s eyes run up and down Shime’s body, as if he’s already stripped to the bone.
Shime definitely feels that way.
A moment that feels like eternity later, Noeru cups his chin with two fingers, and brushes over his lips with his thumb. “So, tell me, Ryuya…” he says, and his voice is hoarse with danger, and Shime has never felt such a strong mix of fear and anticipation before, “do you trust me?”
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It’s not what they call “love at first sight”, but it doesn’t have to be. It is something more intense, maybe lust but not quite. It’s the scent of Shime’s hair, the quiet sounds that spill from his lips because he just can’t seem to be able to let his guard down. It’s his closed eyes, the way he’s clinging onto Noeru even before the last piece of clothing fell down on the floor. It’s the feeling, skin pressed against skin, the feeling of moving alongside Shime in the sheets, the cool night breeze against the drops of sweat glistering on their bodies like little diamonds.
“Do you trust me?” he asked, and Shime only took about 3 seconds before he said “yes”, before he surrendered to Noeru gently pulling him in for a kiss, lips meeting hesitatingly before they turned into a slow battle of passion. It’s like Shime was only dreading the first kiss, like he was ready to succumb after that.
Noeru has been in this situation before, spending the night with people from the high social class, people who wanted a night different, spent in “sin”, before they went back to their obligations the next morning. He is not new to this, but still, there is something, that different spark, the chemistry. The overwhelming sensation he feels when he leans down to kiss Shime, when Shime’s fingers are on his back, when his legs are up around Noeru’s waist. This is the presence of someone who longs to be free, dearly, wants to break the shackles they have him tied down with. This is someone who doesn’t want to stop at that one night of freedom and then casually slip the mask of wealth back on.
Not that it’s any of his business. But somehow, it’s as if Shime’s skin is tingling with that desire, and that makes him even more tempting, makes Noeru go deeper, take a hold of his hand and press their fingers together until it hurts. Shime goes along with it, young and fragile and eager, straight up to a dead end, but he would do it again, and Noeru would do it again as well, with him, for sure.
The night, it’s theirs.
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He’s not allowed, can’t do it, shouldn’t, he’d be doomed if anyone knew, he’ll be doomed if he gets addicted, he’s better than this. All the thoughts, all his fears, everything Shime has grown up with, taking every step while holding onto the hands of responsibility. He should be ashamed of what he’s doing.
Yet somehow this is what pulls him closer, the element of danger, the thrill, the forbidden. The satisfaction, that out of all the people in the room, Noeru chose him, chose him even for a night. The flame, or more like the fire, burning his insides, leading him to seek more, taste more, accept more, anything. All the worry he was feeling before, the shame, they’re all gone, because he wanted them gone, because that’s how willing he’s feeling all of a sudden.
Time loses its meaning, Shime loses his mind, his sanity, only sinks lower into that newborn feeling. It’s not love, nothing as gentle and deep and meaningful as that, but still, it’s something persistent, something that crawls under his skin and keeps him tied there, holding onto Noeru. They’re both chasing after something, maybe different, maybe the same, but their bodies know how to do the talking, know how and where to touch, know when to stop and when to keep going, until they’re breaking, until it’s too much for the both of them. Just a few hours and then he would go home…
But no, the first glimpse of the morning light finds him there, resting on the chaise longue, staring across the room with an empty look. It’s the first time in his life he feels like this, wishes that maybe, maybe he gets to experience this again. Not just for the sex, definitely not only for that. There is something else that Noeru has offered him, even while being in control. A freedom he wants to live with, even if it means going back to where he belongs. It’s confusing, words contradicting each other, but Shime finds peace in it, serenity.
He doesn’t turn when he hears noises behind him, and then he can feel Noeru standing behind him, leaning down at him. Shime closes his eyes and rests his head back, Noeru’s lips light on his jawline and then down to his neck, fingers trailing up and down his bare arm. The familiarity…
“You want to go back, Ryuya?” he whispers, mumbles every word against his skin, and Shime takes another deep breath, slowly opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling.
“You want me to go back?”
“You want me to decide for you?”
Does he? Shime closes his eyes again, Noeru still dropping light kisses all over his neck, and he reaches out to entwine his fingers with Noeru’s. Just a little longer…
“You’re welcome to come back anytime you want, Ryuya.”
He’s shivering, Noeru’s voice evoking that urge in him once more, and he clenches his hand tighter, his lips quivering. Come back…is he serious? Is he playing with him?
“Why would you want me back here?” he asks, and Noeru finally sits down next to him, leans with his face so close that his nose is almost touching Shime’s.
“Because it’s doom.” He whispers, his breath hot against Shime’s face. “And you look pretty in doom.”
Yes, he likes doom. He can’t go back, can’t go forward, has no future, not the kind of future he is truly after. But this is not about the future. Noeru is here, in the present.
“You can’t tell them.” He says, moves closer, every word spoken on Noeru’s lips. “You can’t tell anyone. If you want to enjoy this with me-“
“I won’t.” Noeru promises, presses his lips on Shime’s once more before a faint smile appears on his face. “Until you break…I won’t.”
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