[SMAPfic] Bite
this took longer than I thought it would, and it could've taken even longer because I could write it forever because it was fun.
Bite
“How many times did I tell you? Not to go with any beautiful strangers you meet when you’re drunk? Tsuyopon!”
“Fifty-seven times.”
“What?”
“You told me that fifty-seven times, Shingo.”
“This is so not the point! A beautiful stranger can turn out to be a crazy bitch! Didn’t I tell you that?”
“…well, not really.”
“But of course you had to go and save his ass, Kimura, right? You mother-fucking hero. You goddamned messiah from ladies’ wet dreams! You-”
“I don’t think he can hear you, Nakai-kun.”
“And the crazy bitch was biting! This is all your fault!”
“This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Kimura-kun, I’m so sorry, I-”
“Shut up, Kusanagi! And don’t dare cry.”
“…do you think he’s dead?”
“…”
“Of course not! He can’t be dead!”
“Even he isn’t immortal, you know.”
“I fucking well know he isn’t. I just mean, he can’t be dead ‘cause he’s breathing. See?”
“Uhm, I’m not sure.”
“Actually, I think he might be immortal now.”
All heads turn to Goro, his matter-of-fact statement lingering in the air between them.
“You’ve finally gone completely nuts, Goro-chan?”
“No. Look!”
“Please tell me I’m dreaming and you’re not really putting your fingers into his mouth, Inagaki. Seriously, do whatever you like when it’s the two of you, but I don’t want to see any of that-”
“Look.”
“Eh? What is this?”
“Looks like teeth.”
“I’d say fangs.”
“He didn’t have those last time I saw him.”
“Don’t tell me… He didn’t…”
“Oh shit.”
xxx
Kimura wakes up and there are four faces hovering over him, a little too close for comfort, but all he can see is red mist.
“Wherhhhe am I?” he asks. There is something in his mouth that disturbs his speech. He wants to spit it out but it doesn’t seem to work. His mind flashes him a memory of when he was young and once woke up on the floor and couldn’t speak properly either and Nakai was fussing over him until Kimura realised his mouth was swollen because Nakai had punched him. He now casts Nakai a suspicious look as he puts his hand to his jaw to feel it, but it seems nothing is wrong. Still, he finds no explanation of why the other members are looking at him with such concern and why they’re all in… where exactly are they?
He’s lying on a bed, no doubt about it, but it’s a big, four-poster bed, very old-fashioned and with dark red velvet curtains. The room is dark, it seems more like a cellar than a room really, with dark walls and more dark red velvet everywhere (the dark red seems to be pulsing, or is it just the red haze clouding his vision, it’s pulsing like-). The decorations are tacky gothic. It makes his head spin.
“Love hotel,” Tsuyoshi kindly explains. “We had to take you somewhere and it was the closest. And Shingo thought the room was a good joke.”
Kimura isn’t sure he gets the joke, but he decides to leave it for later. There is a strange feeling in his chest, like a void that is begging to be filled, more nagging than any desire he has ever felt, but he can’t figure out what he is supposed to fill it with.
“More importantly, are you alright? How do you feel?” Kimura could count on fingers of one hand the times he has seen Nakai so worried and it in turn plants a very alarming feeling in his stomach, because surely something bad has happened. What bugs him even more is that he has no idea what.
“Guys. What exactly did-” he cuts off suddenly as the void in him explodes with a new sensation, something like an amalgamation of the most excruciating pain he’s ever felt and a wave of unbearable want foreshadowing an orgasm. The red haze, which was already starting to fade, blinds him for a moment, then his vision becomes sharper than ever and his gaze locks on the white, white skin of Goro’s throat. His chest lifts off the bed effortlessly, dragging the rest of him up.
Shingo is the first one to pick up on what is going on.
“Right, let’s get out to breathe some fresh air!” he commands cheerfully, motioning to Nakai and Tsuyoshi to get up. “Come on, come on, hurry up.”
“Eh? Why all of a sudden?” Tsuyoshi is lost and looks from Nakai to Goro in search of an answer. “What about Kimura-kun?”
“Come on, Tsuyopon, fresh air is waiting!” Shingo practically pushes him to the door. “We’ll leave Goro-chan to take care of Kimura in the meantime.”
“Huh? Goro, are you-” but as the door closes behind them, Tsuyoshi catches a glimpse of Goro’s head thrown back, Kimura’s mouth moving at his neck slowly and his eyes that seem to focus on Tsuyoshi in the last moment send him a look so dark, it stirs some surprising feelings at the bottommost of Tsuyoshi’s stomach. He doesn’t ask any more questions.
xxx
These days, Goro is showcasing a whole collection of high-collared jackets and scarves. Today’s scarf is pink and glittery and Nakai eyes it with disgust when Goro sits down in the dressing room and takes off his sunglasses with a tired sigh.
“Stop playing a victim. You actually love it.”
Goro sends him a grin.
“So fucked up,” Nakai huffs.
Kimura has significantly improved his articulation and doesn’t lisp so much anymore. They tried to convince him to learn to control his laugh too and not flash his teeth all the time, but he said he didn’t care.
“What the fuck? I can show my teeth all I want.”
Instead of a catastrophe, all it brings about is an abrupt rise in sales of fake fangs all over Japan. The fashion statement is soon exported to overseas and half of the catwalk models in new Spring/Summer campaigns, as well as film stars and all the fashionistas are sporting shiny pairs of cute vampire fangs. Lady Gaga gets them custom made in the shape of penises and causes a commotion, orthodontists go on strike. The world keeps turning.
xxx
“It’s morning already.”
“And?”
“He sleeps during the day.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Take him home, I guess?”
“Can he stand the sunlight? Goro?”
“…I dunno.”
“What if we get him out and he burns down? I mean, he’s a vam-”
“Don’t say the word, Tsuyoshi!”
“Huh? Why? But he is a vam-”
“Shh. Nakai-kun just can’t accept the reality. Let him be.”
“I can accept reality alright! It’s just that… Oh, I’m not gonna talk about it with you. And where the hell is Shingo?”
Thump.
“Here.”
“What… What. Is. This.”
“It’s a coffin. Coffin.”
“Looks more like a wooden box to me.”
“Well, try to find a better one, Mr. Kimura’s Dinner!”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mr. Kimura’s Dinner! Mr. I-hang-out-with-vampires-so-I’m-so-cool-all-of-a-sudden!”
“You said the word.”
“Eh?”
“You said the word, Shingo. Nakai-kun’s gonna be angry.”
“Nakai-kun?”
All heads turn to look at their leader. He glares back at them.
“Oh for fuck’s sake! Would you all shut up and help me push the coffin?”
xxx
When Nakai enters the dressing room, Kimura is hanging head down from the clothes rack, hooked with his bent legs, his eyes closed. He seems to be sleeping.
“What’s he doing?” Nakai asks offhandedly as he sits down.
“Sleeping.” Goro gets up from in front of a mirror and goes to straighten Kimura’s t-shirt, which has been losing to gravity and exposing most of his tanned stomach. Nakai thinks Kimura is still surprisingly tanned for a nocturnal creature. Out of the two of them, Goro looks much more suspiciously ethereal, even paler these days, to the point where his skin threatens to turn see-through any moment. As if he was made of paper-thin porcelain, something Nakai would be too scared to touch, in case he might break it. He wonders about asking Goro if he’s alright, but thinks better of it.
“But look,” Goro says and Nakai is not sure if Goro has been talking before that and Nakai was just too engulfed in his own musings to register any words, “he’s really compact like that and easy to transport.”
He pushes the clothes rack to demonstrate and it rolls smoothly until it hits a wall and bounces off (so does Kimura’s head). Kimura doesn’t even blink, still asleep.
Nakai looks at Goro in disbelief.
“Well. Good thing he doesn’t get bruises anymore.”
xxx
It’s barely past sunset, so Shingo knows the place to find Kimura is on the rooftop of the studio. He’s there, squatting at the very edge, enjoying the first blows of the night breeze. It’s not completely dark yet, so his senses are not in their full sharpness; it feels like early morning to him, he’s still in the process of waking up.
Shingo sits down next to him and they stay silent for a while, looking at the sky (Kimura’s eyelids are lowered), but the thoughts and ideas buzzing in Shingo’s head don’t let him keep still for long.
“So, what can you do?”
Kimura turns to him with a questioning gaze.
“The powers. You surely have some powers?”
“Ah,” Kimura nods. He turns the question around in his mouth for a moment before he says, “I can hypnotise people out of their pants in less than a minute.”
Shingo gives him an impatient huff.
“Yeah, well, oh really? I mean, what new powers do you have?”
“I knew you were coming before you even got to the roof.” This however doesn’t seem to impress Shingo, so Kimura rolls his eyes and loses the pretence. “And this,” he says, leans forward over the edge of the roof and before Shingo’s surprised shout dies in the air, he lets himself fall head first.
Shingo immediately looks down, with more curiosity than panic, until he feels a hand catching his collar and pulling him back.
“Be careful,” Kimura says, stepping from behind his shoulder and sitting down next to him again.
“What the hell was that?” Shingo utters with a mix of resentment and admiration. No answer comes so he guesses Kimura leaves it to him to decide. After a moment of pondering he decides it was fucking awesome. The ideas in his head start buzzing even louder and more violently. “Hey, let’s go out tonight!”
“Eh?” Kimura knows Shingo too well to take this as an innocent invitation.
“Oh, come on, please? We’ll be driving like mad through the town, picking up girls, getting into drunken brawls, escaping the police and kicking everyone’s ass! And they won’t even know what hit them because we’ll be fast as a lightning!”
“You mean, I’ll be doing all that and you’ll just tag along?”
“More or less. I can do the picking up girls myself. Please? It’s gonna be so much fun!”
“No.”
“Won’t this change your mind?” Shingo produces two clear plastic bags out of his pocket, full of dark red liquid, and holds them up before Kimura’s eyes. He’s wearing the most inviting smile he’s capable of, the kind that earns him his high pay for all the ads he stars in.
Kimura sniffs in the air, then stares at Shingo in disbelief.
“This is fake blood.”
Shingo throws the bags to the ground with resignation.
“Well, we’re in a TV studio! Where was I supposed to get the real deal from?”
Kimura’s about to laugh, but then Shingo blinks and Kimura is there no more. He’s kneeling behind Shingo instead, leaning into him, his fingers trailing gently down Shingo’s throat.
“You have plenty of your own, you know.” His voice is low, his words roll slowly, unfamiliarly sweet in an almost oppressive way. “It smells really nice. I wonder what the taste’s like?”
“Oh thank you very much, but no thank you!” Shingo pushes him away before Kimura’s lips touch his skin. He’s really freaked out and cares nothing about hiding it, even makes a particularly ugly face to get his feelings through. Suddenly the strange heaviness of the air is gone and Kimura is laughing and his laugh is loud and high as ever.
“Sorry. Just joking.”
Shingo wants to tell him how he doesn’t appreciate the joke at all, but he’s again distracted by a new idea.
“Would Tsuyopon do?” he asks hopefully. Kimura shakes his head, amused.
“Forget it.”
“But-”
But Kimura is no longer on the roof.
xxx
They had to have some chairs taken out of the dressing room to make place for Kimura’s coffin. It’s the same plain wooden box Shingo found for him. He could easily buy himself a more stylish one, but Kimura claims he’s got attached to this one. Goro brought a fluffy red blanket (red is Kimura’s favourite colour now) and put it into the coffin to make it more comfortable. Kimura didn’t say a word, but hasn’t thrown it out.
“Fancy some coffin sexin’?”
Goro literally jumps up when he suddenly hears Kimura’s whisper at his ear. The whole sneaking up thing is really driving him mad, Kimura knows that, that’s probably why he can’t help himself.
“Didn’t I ask you not to do this? You know I can’t see you in the mirror.” He gets a giggle in reply. “Are you alright?”
“You’re looking into mirrors too much, that’s boring.” Kimura takes him by the wrist and turns in the general direction of his wooden box. “Come on, we’ll have fun.”
Goro is really bad at protesting but he feels there is something not quite right about the offer.
“What, here?”
Kimura looks at him innocently. “We’ll close the lid?”
Goro suddenly becomes very skilled at protesting, he stubbornly stops and won’t budge.
“I’m not getting into a coffin and closing the lid, thank you very much! Besides…” he takes a better look at Kimura, his glassy eyes, widened irises, and it suddenly hits him. “Oh my god. You drank tomato juice again?”
They made a rather surprising, yet quite enlightening discovery the week before. Tomato juice gets Kimura high. Whether it is common for his kind, or just odd and specific for him, there has been no way of finding out; still, the fact is, Kimura drank Tsuyoshi’s tomato juice (he kept saying he felt some sort of affinity with tomatoes, or maybe it was just that it was red, either way it seemed to be calling to him and he just had to take a gulp; or two) and he was acting weird afterwards. Weird, as in, running around, using cheesy pick-up lines and falling down on people from the ceiling, speaking with an Eastern-European accent all of a sudden and basically being restless and rather giggly. It faded away eventually, but the hours when they had to put up with him resulted in making him promise he wouldn’t drink tomato juice again.
So Goro senses a trick and a Shingo being involved. He figures it will wear off faster if Kimura drinks in the meantime, so he undoes the top buttons of his shirt and tilts his head back in a practised manner.
“Here, have a bite?”
Kimura turns on his heel and almost trips and now Goro is completely sure he’s high, because these days Kimura moves so smoothly they can’t even see it most of the time, he certainly never trips. Two seconds later none if this matters though, he is at Goro’s neck and as usual Goro has to strain himself so that his knees wouldn’t give way. Kimura licks a spot first, ritually wetting it and his saliva seems almost electrifying as he is kissing Goro’s neck softly, gradually getting more and more intense as he gives in to the hunger. Goro sighs when Kimura’s fangs finally sink in, but it’s not pain. Of course, there is a tiny unpleasantness of the sensation of his skin being broken, yet the predominant feeling is blissful. The current that transmits from Kimura’s mouth makes Goro’s neck as sensitive to the touch as certain other parts of his body generally are (parts which are also inevitably reacting, he can already feel it in his pants). Kimura is sucking on while his arms snake around Goro’s waist pulling him closer and all of this really doesn’t make sense because now getting into the coffin is the only solution, they probably wouldn’t even make it to the bathroom.
Kimura pulls the lid up while still glued to Goro all over, but they both immediately break away and stare when a hand shots up from inside the coffin to pull it back down.
“Can’t you read? There was a don’t disturb sign,” Shingo’s grumpy voice scolds them as Tsuyoshi’s dishevelled head pops up, one eye screwed shut as the light blinds him.
“Shit, guys. I sleep here,” Kimura says, disgusted, but at least completely sober now.
Shingo’s hand pushes Tsuyoshi’s dishevelled head back down and closes the lid.
xxx
When Nakai walks in, there’s only Goro in the dressing room (he has a vague idea about where the others could be, judging by screams and shouts from further down the corridor). Goro is cleaning his neck with tissues and Nakai can’t help but cringe. No matter how consensual, he still finds the sight of his band member covered in blood rather disturbing.
“He usually licks it clean but there’s always some that gets smeared,” Goro tried explaining it to him once, but Nakai merely closed his eyes and hissed.
“Too. Much. Information.”
So perhaps this is why Goro doesn’t say anything this time, just throws the tissues to the bin. He misses, the tissues fall to the floor and he has to get up and pick them. That was to be expected, but what wasn’t is the darkness suddenly clouding his vision, slight nausea sucking him from the inside as something buzzes in his ears drowning all sound out.
What Nakai sees is Goro stumbling and putting a hand to his forehead as he goes transparent in the face (he’s been long past pale now).
“You are fainting. Are you fainting? Don’t faint.” Nakai panics a little, but still manages to take Goro by the shoulders and seat him on the sofa, where he pushes Goro’s head down until it rests between his knees.
“What are you doing?” Goro tries to protest weakly, although his vision is still full of black spots. “I’m fine.”
“You are fainting, so shut up and do what you’re told. Unless you’d rather lie down with your legs in the air.” Nakai still holds Goro’s head down firmly, so he can’t see an amused smile briefly passing his lips, because maybe he would rather. Goro keeps it to himself though and it’s a good choice, as Nakai is too worried to joke around now. He’s not in the least surprised with Goro’s condition, it was bound to happen, what with the amounts of blood he’s been losing and an even more hectic schedule as they had to move all smapxsmap tapings to night-time for obvious reasons. Nakai hasn’t said anything until now but as he looks at the white nape of Goro’s neck (still bent down), he thinks, he’s been blessed with a band member that sucks blood, another one who is too M for his own good and two remaining ones get off on locking themselves in coffins. Who else will say anything if not him?
xxx
“You know, I was wondering…”
“Mhm?” Kimura has his eyes closed but Shingo suspects he knows that he’s being looked at right now. He has always seemed to know such things, but now it’s a given. Shingo wouldn’t even be surprised if Kimura already knew what he was going to ask but didn’t say anything for Shingo not to feel uncomfortable.
“What if someone asked you to… turn them?”
There is silence for a while and Shingo starts to think he’s going to be ignored, but Kimura finally answers,
“Tsuyoshi asked.”
“Eh?!” Shingo sits up in shock. “Why?”
Kimura shrugs, as much as he can shrug while lying down.
“Maybe he’s really into biting but he’s too shy to tell you.”
“You know,” Shingo picks up his t-shirt and starts to put it on, “I think I’m going to pass on the whole tanning thing. It doesn’t seem to work.”
They’ve been lying on the roof in the middle of the night, bathing in moonlight. If the moon reflects sun rays, Kimura figured, it has to work if you absorb it for long enough. Shingo wasn’t sure science agreed with that, but apparently Kimura logic defied all rules and laws. That at least made sense.
xxx
“You can’t suck Goro all the time, it’s not healthy for him.”
“I don’t anymore. It’s a bit dangerous to suck someone off with these,” Kimura taps his fang with a fingernail.
Nakai turns a little bit red in the face.
“Oh. Oh, you didn’t mean that.” Kimura wants to laugh, but his face turns serious soon enough. “I know it’s not really the best for him. But you know, I can’t actually go after people and ask them: excuse me, would you mind if I bite into you a little?”
“I don’t think they would mind.”
Kimura raises his eyebrows. Nakai takes a deep breath.
“Well, I wouldn’t.”
“Eh?”
“I mean, it’s not like I’d want you to, but it’s not good for Goro, so maybe you should suck someone else every once in a while and I don’t have a problem with that so I guess it’s no big deal, right?”
Nakai is a little surprised himself that he managed to say it all so fast and without a stutter. He pulls the collar of his shirt down, just to make his point, but he can feel Kimura’s gaze on himself almost physically (it’s so heavy) and Kimura’s eyes are suddenly so dark, watching his every move.
“What?”
“You don’t know? It’s not that simple.” Kimura’s voice is strange, lower, more husky, and the way he speaks is unexpectedly slow, as if each word was melting on his tongue. It makes Nakai think of dark chocolate. “It’s a very… sensual experience. Very… erotic. For the both people involved.”
“Well, I don’t find anything erotic about it,” Nakai’s breath hitches, “so I’ll be fine…”
Kimura shakes his head and comes closer, and Nakai finds himself staring straight into his eyes and he can’t look away. He can’t even move.
“You don’t get it.” Kimura says as he reaches up and takes hold of Nakai’s hand, still locked at his collar. He puts it away and gently tilts Nakai’s head back to expose his pale neck. His lips are right at Nakai’s ear. “Once I’m finished drinking, we’ll want to fuck each other so hard, you won’t be able to stop yourself.”
“Bullshit,” Nakai says and scowls at how high his voice sounds.
“I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Then Kimura’s fangs sink into his skin and Nakai’s mouth opens in a soundless moan.
xxx
“Whoa.”
“…”
“That was good.”
“Mhm.”
“The best I’ve ever had.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Oh shut up. It’s probably because you’re a blood-sucker now. All that dark appeal and shit.”
“You wouldn’t know, would you? Should’ve tried it when I wasn’t.”
“Missing the point, much? I’m only doing it for Goro’s sake. … Don’t smirk at me.”
“I’m not.”
“… So. Who tastes better? And don’t even try double meaning. I’m talking about blood.”
“Too different to compare. And even if I could tell, I wouldn’t.”
“I wonder if it’s because of blood types?”
“Nah, Tsuyoshi’s the same as yours and it still tastes different.”
“You drank Tsuyoshi?”
“Yup.”
“Wait. You’re doing Tsuyoshi too?”
“What? No. I mean, I can control this hypnosis thing pretty well now, you know…”
“You can… What?!”
“Shit.”
“So you didn’t have to… You tricked me, you dirty leech!”
“But you said it was good.”
“…”
“So? Round two?”
Bang.
“Oi, Nakai! You forgot your pants!”
“Will you please keep it down?” a muffled voice seems to be coming out of nowhere. “People are trying to sleep here.”
“…you two. Get the fuck outta my coffin.”
xxx
authorsnotes: ohgod, where do I start? there's a couple of things/people to blame that inspired this, mostly: → the man himself, who bites people on tv and doesn't care someone with a biting fetish might watch it and get ideas; → the WUS where he talks about filming that Gatsby cm and that he was told to bite the girl. and he did. and it wasn't aired. and I'm crying; → last but definitely not least, because it was the first trigger [so you can see how long the idea's been brewing in my head], dictionarysays' absolutely amazing fic, which made me realise SMAP with supernatural powers is the best idea ever. I won't even comment about the pairings, because one, I'm hopeless in this department; two, if you can read slight Nakai/Goro out of this, well, so can I but I have no idea how it happened. just for the record, I don’t think you can speak Japanese with Eastern European accent, but think Draculas in American movies that speak with exaggerated accent to hint that they come from Transylvania - that’s what I had in mind. ;) don't ask me how tomatoes make sense, but they do.
Bite
“How many times did I tell you? Not to go with any beautiful strangers you meet when you’re drunk? Tsuyopon!”
“Fifty-seven times.”
“What?”
“You told me that fifty-seven times, Shingo.”
“This is so not the point! A beautiful stranger can turn out to be a crazy bitch! Didn’t I tell you that?”
“…well, not really.”
“But of course you had to go and save his ass, Kimura, right? You mother-fucking hero. You goddamned messiah from ladies’ wet dreams! You-”
“I don’t think he can hear you, Nakai-kun.”
“And the crazy bitch was biting! This is all your fault!”
“This is all my fault. I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Kimura-kun, I’m so sorry, I-”
“Shut up, Kusanagi! And don’t dare cry.”
“…do you think he’s dead?”
“…”
“Of course not! He can’t be dead!”
“Even he isn’t immortal, you know.”
“I fucking well know he isn’t. I just mean, he can’t be dead ‘cause he’s breathing. See?”
“Uhm, I’m not sure.”
“Actually, I think he might be immortal now.”
All heads turn to Goro, his matter-of-fact statement lingering in the air between them.
“You’ve finally gone completely nuts, Goro-chan?”
“No. Look!”
“Please tell me I’m dreaming and you’re not really putting your fingers into his mouth, Inagaki. Seriously, do whatever you like when it’s the two of you, but I don’t want to see any of that-”
“Look.”
“Eh? What is this?”
“Looks like teeth.”
“I’d say fangs.”
“He didn’t have those last time I saw him.”
“Don’t tell me… He didn’t…”
“Oh shit.”
xxx
Kimura wakes up and there are four faces hovering over him, a little too close for comfort, but all he can see is red mist.
“Wherhhhe am I?” he asks. There is something in his mouth that disturbs his speech. He wants to spit it out but it doesn’t seem to work. His mind flashes him a memory of when he was young and once woke up on the floor and couldn’t speak properly either and Nakai was fussing over him until Kimura realised his mouth was swollen because Nakai had punched him. He now casts Nakai a suspicious look as he puts his hand to his jaw to feel it, but it seems nothing is wrong. Still, he finds no explanation of why the other members are looking at him with such concern and why they’re all in… where exactly are they?
He’s lying on a bed, no doubt about it, but it’s a big, four-poster bed, very old-fashioned and with dark red velvet curtains. The room is dark, it seems more like a cellar than a room really, with dark walls and more dark red velvet everywhere (the dark red seems to be pulsing, or is it just the red haze clouding his vision, it’s pulsing like-). The decorations are tacky gothic. It makes his head spin.
“Love hotel,” Tsuyoshi kindly explains. “We had to take you somewhere and it was the closest. And Shingo thought the room was a good joke.”
Kimura isn’t sure he gets the joke, but he decides to leave it for later. There is a strange feeling in his chest, like a void that is begging to be filled, more nagging than any desire he has ever felt, but he can’t figure out what he is supposed to fill it with.
“More importantly, are you alright? How do you feel?” Kimura could count on fingers of one hand the times he has seen Nakai so worried and it in turn plants a very alarming feeling in his stomach, because surely something bad has happened. What bugs him even more is that he has no idea what.
“Guys. What exactly did-” he cuts off suddenly as the void in him explodes with a new sensation, something like an amalgamation of the most excruciating pain he’s ever felt and a wave of unbearable want foreshadowing an orgasm. The red haze, which was already starting to fade, blinds him for a moment, then his vision becomes sharper than ever and his gaze locks on the white, white skin of Goro’s throat. His chest lifts off the bed effortlessly, dragging the rest of him up.
Shingo is the first one to pick up on what is going on.
“Right, let’s get out to breathe some fresh air!” he commands cheerfully, motioning to Nakai and Tsuyoshi to get up. “Come on, come on, hurry up.”
“Eh? Why all of a sudden?” Tsuyoshi is lost and looks from Nakai to Goro in search of an answer. “What about Kimura-kun?”
“Come on, Tsuyopon, fresh air is waiting!” Shingo practically pushes him to the door. “We’ll leave Goro-chan to take care of Kimura in the meantime.”
“Huh? Goro, are you-” but as the door closes behind them, Tsuyoshi catches a glimpse of Goro’s head thrown back, Kimura’s mouth moving at his neck slowly and his eyes that seem to focus on Tsuyoshi in the last moment send him a look so dark, it stirs some surprising feelings at the bottommost of Tsuyoshi’s stomach. He doesn’t ask any more questions.
xxx
These days, Goro is showcasing a whole collection of high-collared jackets and scarves. Today’s scarf is pink and glittery and Nakai eyes it with disgust when Goro sits down in the dressing room and takes off his sunglasses with a tired sigh.
“Stop playing a victim. You actually love it.”
Goro sends him a grin.
“So fucked up,” Nakai huffs.
Kimura has significantly improved his articulation and doesn’t lisp so much anymore. They tried to convince him to learn to control his laugh too and not flash his teeth all the time, but he said he didn’t care.
“What the fuck? I can show my teeth all I want.”
Instead of a catastrophe, all it brings about is an abrupt rise in sales of fake fangs all over Japan. The fashion statement is soon exported to overseas and half of the catwalk models in new Spring/Summer campaigns, as well as film stars and all the fashionistas are sporting shiny pairs of cute vampire fangs. Lady Gaga gets them custom made in the shape of penises and causes a commotion, orthodontists go on strike. The world keeps turning.
xxx
“It’s morning already.”
“And?”
“He sleeps during the day.”
“So what do we do now?”
“Take him home, I guess?”
“Can he stand the sunlight? Goro?”
“…I dunno.”
“What if we get him out and he burns down? I mean, he’s a vam-”
“Don’t say the word, Tsuyoshi!”
“Huh? Why? But he is a vam-”
“Shh. Nakai-kun just can’t accept the reality. Let him be.”
“I can accept reality alright! It’s just that… Oh, I’m not gonna talk about it with you. And where the hell is Shingo?”
Thump.
“Here.”
“What… What. Is. This.”
“It’s a coffin. Coffin.”
“Looks more like a wooden box to me.”
“Well, try to find a better one, Mr. Kimura’s Dinner!”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Mr. Kimura’s Dinner! Mr. I-hang-out-with-vampires-so-I’m-so-cool-all-of-a-sudden!”
“You said the word.”
“Eh?”
“You said the word, Shingo. Nakai-kun’s gonna be angry.”
“Nakai-kun?”
All heads turn to look at their leader. He glares back at them.
“Oh for fuck’s sake! Would you all shut up and help me push the coffin?”
xxx
When Nakai enters the dressing room, Kimura is hanging head down from the clothes rack, hooked with his bent legs, his eyes closed. He seems to be sleeping.
“What’s he doing?” Nakai asks offhandedly as he sits down.
“Sleeping.” Goro gets up from in front of a mirror and goes to straighten Kimura’s t-shirt, which has been losing to gravity and exposing most of his tanned stomach. Nakai thinks Kimura is still surprisingly tanned for a nocturnal creature. Out of the two of them, Goro looks much more suspiciously ethereal, even paler these days, to the point where his skin threatens to turn see-through any moment. As if he was made of paper-thin porcelain, something Nakai would be too scared to touch, in case he might break it. He wonders about asking Goro if he’s alright, but thinks better of it.
“But look,” Goro says and Nakai is not sure if Goro has been talking before that and Nakai was just too engulfed in his own musings to register any words, “he’s really compact like that and easy to transport.”
He pushes the clothes rack to demonstrate and it rolls smoothly until it hits a wall and bounces off (so does Kimura’s head). Kimura doesn’t even blink, still asleep.
Nakai looks at Goro in disbelief.
“Well. Good thing he doesn’t get bruises anymore.”
xxx
It’s barely past sunset, so Shingo knows the place to find Kimura is on the rooftop of the studio. He’s there, squatting at the very edge, enjoying the first blows of the night breeze. It’s not completely dark yet, so his senses are not in their full sharpness; it feels like early morning to him, he’s still in the process of waking up.
Shingo sits down next to him and they stay silent for a while, looking at the sky (Kimura’s eyelids are lowered), but the thoughts and ideas buzzing in Shingo’s head don’t let him keep still for long.
“So, what can you do?”
Kimura turns to him with a questioning gaze.
“The powers. You surely have some powers?”
“Ah,” Kimura nods. He turns the question around in his mouth for a moment before he says, “I can hypnotise people out of their pants in less than a minute.”
Shingo gives him an impatient huff.
“Yeah, well, oh really? I mean, what new powers do you have?”
“I knew you were coming before you even got to the roof.” This however doesn’t seem to impress Shingo, so Kimura rolls his eyes and loses the pretence. “And this,” he says, leans forward over the edge of the roof and before Shingo’s surprised shout dies in the air, he lets himself fall head first.
Shingo immediately looks down, with more curiosity than panic, until he feels a hand catching his collar and pulling him back.
“Be careful,” Kimura says, stepping from behind his shoulder and sitting down next to him again.
“What the hell was that?” Shingo utters with a mix of resentment and admiration. No answer comes so he guesses Kimura leaves it to him to decide. After a moment of pondering he decides it was fucking awesome. The ideas in his head start buzzing even louder and more violently. “Hey, let’s go out tonight!”
“Eh?” Kimura knows Shingo too well to take this as an innocent invitation.
“Oh, come on, please? We’ll be driving like mad through the town, picking up girls, getting into drunken brawls, escaping the police and kicking everyone’s ass! And they won’t even know what hit them because we’ll be fast as a lightning!”
“You mean, I’ll be doing all that and you’ll just tag along?”
“More or less. I can do the picking up girls myself. Please? It’s gonna be so much fun!”
“No.”
“Won’t this change your mind?” Shingo produces two clear plastic bags out of his pocket, full of dark red liquid, and holds them up before Kimura’s eyes. He’s wearing the most inviting smile he’s capable of, the kind that earns him his high pay for all the ads he stars in.
Kimura sniffs in the air, then stares at Shingo in disbelief.
“This is fake blood.”
Shingo throws the bags to the ground with resignation.
“Well, we’re in a TV studio! Where was I supposed to get the real deal from?”
Kimura’s about to laugh, but then Shingo blinks and Kimura is there no more. He’s kneeling behind Shingo instead, leaning into him, his fingers trailing gently down Shingo’s throat.
“You have plenty of your own, you know.” His voice is low, his words roll slowly, unfamiliarly sweet in an almost oppressive way. “It smells really nice. I wonder what the taste’s like?”
“Oh thank you very much, but no thank you!” Shingo pushes him away before Kimura’s lips touch his skin. He’s really freaked out and cares nothing about hiding it, even makes a particularly ugly face to get his feelings through. Suddenly the strange heaviness of the air is gone and Kimura is laughing and his laugh is loud and high as ever.
“Sorry. Just joking.”
Shingo wants to tell him how he doesn’t appreciate the joke at all, but he’s again distracted by a new idea.
“Would Tsuyopon do?” he asks hopefully. Kimura shakes his head, amused.
“Forget it.”
“But-”
But Kimura is no longer on the roof.
xxx
They had to have some chairs taken out of the dressing room to make place for Kimura’s coffin. It’s the same plain wooden box Shingo found for him. He could easily buy himself a more stylish one, but Kimura claims he’s got attached to this one. Goro brought a fluffy red blanket (red is Kimura’s favourite colour now) and put it into the coffin to make it more comfortable. Kimura didn’t say a word, but hasn’t thrown it out.
“Fancy some coffin sexin’?”
Goro literally jumps up when he suddenly hears Kimura’s whisper at his ear. The whole sneaking up thing is really driving him mad, Kimura knows that, that’s probably why he can’t help himself.
“Didn’t I ask you not to do this? You know I can’t see you in the mirror.” He gets a giggle in reply. “Are you alright?”
“You’re looking into mirrors too much, that’s boring.” Kimura takes him by the wrist and turns in the general direction of his wooden box. “Come on, we’ll have fun.”
Goro is really bad at protesting but he feels there is something not quite right about the offer.
“What, here?”
Kimura looks at him innocently. “We’ll close the lid?”
Goro suddenly becomes very skilled at protesting, he stubbornly stops and won’t budge.
“I’m not getting into a coffin and closing the lid, thank you very much! Besides…” he takes a better look at Kimura, his glassy eyes, widened irises, and it suddenly hits him. “Oh my god. You drank tomato juice again?”
They made a rather surprising, yet quite enlightening discovery the week before. Tomato juice gets Kimura high. Whether it is common for his kind, or just odd and specific for him, there has been no way of finding out; still, the fact is, Kimura drank Tsuyoshi’s tomato juice (he kept saying he felt some sort of affinity with tomatoes, or maybe it was just that it was red, either way it seemed to be calling to him and he just had to take a gulp; or two) and he was acting weird afterwards. Weird, as in, running around, using cheesy pick-up lines and falling down on people from the ceiling, speaking with an Eastern-European accent all of a sudden and basically being restless and rather giggly. It faded away eventually, but the hours when they had to put up with him resulted in making him promise he wouldn’t drink tomato juice again.
So Goro senses a trick and a Shingo being involved. He figures it will wear off faster if Kimura drinks in the meantime, so he undoes the top buttons of his shirt and tilts his head back in a practised manner.
“Here, have a bite?”
Kimura turns on his heel and almost trips and now Goro is completely sure he’s high, because these days Kimura moves so smoothly they can’t even see it most of the time, he certainly never trips. Two seconds later none if this matters though, he is at Goro’s neck and as usual Goro has to strain himself so that his knees wouldn’t give way. Kimura licks a spot first, ritually wetting it and his saliva seems almost electrifying as he is kissing Goro’s neck softly, gradually getting more and more intense as he gives in to the hunger. Goro sighs when Kimura’s fangs finally sink in, but it’s not pain. Of course, there is a tiny unpleasantness of the sensation of his skin being broken, yet the predominant feeling is blissful. The current that transmits from Kimura’s mouth makes Goro’s neck as sensitive to the touch as certain other parts of his body generally are (parts which are also inevitably reacting, he can already feel it in his pants). Kimura is sucking on while his arms snake around Goro’s waist pulling him closer and all of this really doesn’t make sense because now getting into the coffin is the only solution, they probably wouldn’t even make it to the bathroom.
Kimura pulls the lid up while still glued to Goro all over, but they both immediately break away and stare when a hand shots up from inside the coffin to pull it back down.
“Can’t you read? There was a don’t disturb sign,” Shingo’s grumpy voice scolds them as Tsuyoshi’s dishevelled head pops up, one eye screwed shut as the light blinds him.
“Shit, guys. I sleep here,” Kimura says, disgusted, but at least completely sober now.
Shingo’s hand pushes Tsuyoshi’s dishevelled head back down and closes the lid.
xxx
When Nakai walks in, there’s only Goro in the dressing room (he has a vague idea about where the others could be, judging by screams and shouts from further down the corridor). Goro is cleaning his neck with tissues and Nakai can’t help but cringe. No matter how consensual, he still finds the sight of his band member covered in blood rather disturbing.
“He usually licks it clean but there’s always some that gets smeared,” Goro tried explaining it to him once, but Nakai merely closed his eyes and hissed.
“Too. Much. Information.”
So perhaps this is why Goro doesn’t say anything this time, just throws the tissues to the bin. He misses, the tissues fall to the floor and he has to get up and pick them. That was to be expected, but what wasn’t is the darkness suddenly clouding his vision, slight nausea sucking him from the inside as something buzzes in his ears drowning all sound out.
What Nakai sees is Goro stumbling and putting a hand to his forehead as he goes transparent in the face (he’s been long past pale now).
“You are fainting. Are you fainting? Don’t faint.” Nakai panics a little, but still manages to take Goro by the shoulders and seat him on the sofa, where he pushes Goro’s head down until it rests between his knees.
“What are you doing?” Goro tries to protest weakly, although his vision is still full of black spots. “I’m fine.”
“You are fainting, so shut up and do what you’re told. Unless you’d rather lie down with your legs in the air.” Nakai still holds Goro’s head down firmly, so he can’t see an amused smile briefly passing his lips, because maybe he would rather. Goro keeps it to himself though and it’s a good choice, as Nakai is too worried to joke around now. He’s not in the least surprised with Goro’s condition, it was bound to happen, what with the amounts of blood he’s been losing and an even more hectic schedule as they had to move all smapxsmap tapings to night-time for obvious reasons. Nakai hasn’t said anything until now but as he looks at the white nape of Goro’s neck (still bent down), he thinks, he’s been blessed with a band member that sucks blood, another one who is too M for his own good and two remaining ones get off on locking themselves in coffins. Who else will say anything if not him?
xxx
“You know, I was wondering…”
“Mhm?” Kimura has his eyes closed but Shingo suspects he knows that he’s being looked at right now. He has always seemed to know such things, but now it’s a given. Shingo wouldn’t even be surprised if Kimura already knew what he was going to ask but didn’t say anything for Shingo not to feel uncomfortable.
“What if someone asked you to… turn them?”
There is silence for a while and Shingo starts to think he’s going to be ignored, but Kimura finally answers,
“Tsuyoshi asked.”
“Eh?!” Shingo sits up in shock. “Why?”
Kimura shrugs, as much as he can shrug while lying down.
“Maybe he’s really into biting but he’s too shy to tell you.”
“You know,” Shingo picks up his t-shirt and starts to put it on, “I think I’m going to pass on the whole tanning thing. It doesn’t seem to work.”
They’ve been lying on the roof in the middle of the night, bathing in moonlight. If the moon reflects sun rays, Kimura figured, it has to work if you absorb it for long enough. Shingo wasn’t sure science agreed with that, but apparently Kimura logic defied all rules and laws. That at least made sense.
xxx
“You can’t suck Goro all the time, it’s not healthy for him.”
“I don’t anymore. It’s a bit dangerous to suck someone off with these,” Kimura taps his fang with a fingernail.
Nakai turns a little bit red in the face.
“Oh. Oh, you didn’t mean that.” Kimura wants to laugh, but his face turns serious soon enough. “I know it’s not really the best for him. But you know, I can’t actually go after people and ask them: excuse me, would you mind if I bite into you a little?”
“I don’t think they would mind.”
Kimura raises his eyebrows. Nakai takes a deep breath.
“Well, I wouldn’t.”
“Eh?”
“I mean, it’s not like I’d want you to, but it’s not good for Goro, so maybe you should suck someone else every once in a while and I don’t have a problem with that so I guess it’s no big deal, right?”
Nakai is a little surprised himself that he managed to say it all so fast and without a stutter. He pulls the collar of his shirt down, just to make his point, but he can feel Kimura’s gaze on himself almost physically (it’s so heavy) and Kimura’s eyes are suddenly so dark, watching his every move.
“What?”
“You don’t know? It’s not that simple.” Kimura’s voice is strange, lower, more husky, and the way he speaks is unexpectedly slow, as if each word was melting on his tongue. It makes Nakai think of dark chocolate. “It’s a very… sensual experience. Very… erotic. For the both people involved.”
“Well, I don’t find anything erotic about it,” Nakai’s breath hitches, “so I’ll be fine…”
Kimura shakes his head and comes closer, and Nakai finds himself staring straight into his eyes and he can’t look away. He can’t even move.
“You don’t get it.” Kimura says as he reaches up and takes hold of Nakai’s hand, still locked at his collar. He puts it away and gently tilts Nakai’s head back to expose his pale neck. His lips are right at Nakai’s ear. “Once I’m finished drinking, we’ll want to fuck each other so hard, you won’t be able to stop yourself.”
“Bullshit,” Nakai says and scowls at how high his voice sounds.
“I won’t be able to stop myself.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Then Kimura’s fangs sink into his skin and Nakai’s mouth opens in a soundless moan.
xxx
“Whoa.”
“…”
“That was good.”
“Mhm.”
“The best I’ve ever had.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Oh shut up. It’s probably because you’re a blood-sucker now. All that dark appeal and shit.”
“You wouldn’t know, would you? Should’ve tried it when I wasn’t.”
“Missing the point, much? I’m only doing it for Goro’s sake. … Don’t smirk at me.”
“I’m not.”
“… So. Who tastes better? And don’t even try double meaning. I’m talking about blood.”
“Too different to compare. And even if I could tell, I wouldn’t.”
“I wonder if it’s because of blood types?”
“Nah, Tsuyoshi’s the same as yours and it still tastes different.”
“You drank Tsuyoshi?”
“Yup.”
“Wait. You’re doing Tsuyoshi too?”
“What? No. I mean, I can control this hypnosis thing pretty well now, you know…”
“You can… What?!”
“Shit.”
“So you didn’t have to… You tricked me, you dirty leech!”
“But you said it was good.”
“…”
“So? Round two?”
Bang.
“Oi, Nakai! You forgot your pants!”
“Will you please keep it down?” a muffled voice seems to be coming out of nowhere. “People are trying to sleep here.”
“…you two. Get the fuck outta my coffin.”
xxx
authorsnotes: ohgod, where do I start? there's a couple of things/people to blame that inspired this, mostly: → the man himself, who bites people on tv and doesn't care someone with a biting fetish might watch it and get ideas; → the WUS where he talks about filming that Gatsby cm and that he was told to bite the girl. and he did. and it wasn't aired. and I'm crying; → last but definitely not least, because it was the first trigger [so you can see how long the idea's been brewing in my head], dictionarysays' absolutely amazing fic, which made me realise SMAP with supernatural powers is the best idea ever. I won't even comment about the pairings, because one, I'm hopeless in this department; two, if you can read slight Nakai/Goro out of this, well, so can I but I have no idea how it happened. just for the record, I don’t think you can speak Japanese with Eastern European accent, but think Draculas in American movies that speak with exaggerated accent to hint that they come from Transylvania - that’s what I had in mind. ;) don't ask me how tomatoes make sense, but they do.