Gift fic for: yukimahou [2/2]
Parts: 1 2
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Second Meeting
December 21st 2014
2100 hours
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Kame needed awhile to recover after his ‘date’. But he didn’t feel guilty at all when he returned home after Ueda left that day and promptly shoved a hand down the front of his pants the minute he got through the genkan and immediately got down to business.
After coming harder than he ever had in a long time, Kame decided that really, he probably needed at least a week of recovery before doing anything else.
Of course his manager, Junno, and the director of his movie had blown up at him, but all for different reasons. Junno and his manager most likely from worry, but the director was definitely from frustration and annoyance that the filming had to be put on hold.
Kame had only been gone for two days when news reports on how ‘KAMENASHI KAZUYA, POSSIBLE EARLY RETIREMENT’ or ‘KAMENASHI KAZUYA. KIDNAPPED??’ started to pop out at an alarming rate.
He needed to resurface quick.
But just a day after that, Kame woke up to his phone vibrating at about two in the morning. He expected it to be a text from Junno, or perhaps his worrywart of a manager, but to his utmost shock, it was from Ueda.
Kame had immediately sat up straight as a board and flipped open his phone.
[Are you fucking dead or something?]
And Kame, despite everything, couldn’t suppress a laugh.
That was the start of a strange friendship/client-businessman relationship between him and Ueda. Kame never found out why Ueda texted him, but he liked to think that the man was at least slightly worried, or even curious to why he disappeared for a few days.
Ueda turned out to be a very good person to talk or vent to, because the man never seemed to take anything seriously. His replies were usually short, to the point, and cluttered with typos and spelling errors.
Because of his jam packed schedule, Kame was unable to contact Ueda to set up another date, which to his utmost surprise, the older man was very annoyed because of it. Their texts turned from weekly to daily, and from daily to hourly. Kame found himself smiling a lot more, which led to a very suspicious Junno, who cornered him and interrogated the life out of Kame.
Kame also found himself forgetting to call Jin, leading to a barrage of missed calls and flow of text messages which bill would have made his eyes pop. Kame always apologises, but he could tell that Jin wasn’t very happy with him at all.
This couldn’t go on, and maybe Pi was right. Kame had to stop clinging to ‘safety’ as Ueda called it. However, Kame didn’t get much chance to ponder over his failing relationship, because Ueda - the annoying yet strangely endearing fuck began to occupy his attention more and more. Despite not being able to see Ueda, their texts were perhaps the only thing that kept Kame going through those weeks.
Roughly a month after their first (almost disastrous) date, Kame was able to finally get a day off. He had called Ueda who picked up in three rings and answered his hesitant ‘Hello?’ with a hoarse ‘Who the fuck is this and what the fuck do you want?’
Kame had laughed then and there, which led to an undignified yelp and some scrambling over the line before a sharp thud followed it.
Ueda sounded rather ruffled and panicked when he finally spoke into the receiver, grunting out a reluctant apology, his words slurring. Kame could tell the man was dead drunk, but when he asked if Ueda would be sober enough to go out for dinner that night, the older man had immediately rightened his voice and agreed almost instantly, the only condition being that Ueda would be the one who picked the place.
Kame really didn’t have a problem, given that it was private and far, far away from any paparazzi cameras.
Which is why he is now standing in front of a very strange, victorian-styled building in the middle of a quiet suburb. There are literally no cars nor people around that Kame wonders if he has the wrong address. Staring up at the building, Kame notes that it is very elegant, built in a very western fashion complete with the naked stone carvings of cupid and naked women on the support pillars. The curtains were draw for every window of the three storey house, and Kame can feel the aura of mystery radiating off the slivers of dim yellow lighting that peeks through the cracks between the curtain fabric.
Kame flips open his phone, debating of whether to call Ueda to ask just where in the holy hell he is, because this is winter goddammit, but then the thick mahogany front doors of the house opens, and it is Ueda who sticks his head out. Spotting Kame, he scowls and stomps out toward the bewildered man.
“You are goddamn late,” Ueda snaps, but less unkindly than their last date, “Come on.”
Kame tries to protest, but he is dragged into the house by a very persistent Ueda. He feels as though he just entered a different dimension the minute the door slams shut behind him. Kame is pulled mercilessly down a dimly lit corridor which has small chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, casting an eerie glow against the walls. Kame notes that the ‘house’ isn’t a house, but a very private restaurant. There are several doorways along the corridor that lead into large rooms filled with rich wooden tables and soft horsehair chairs. Distinguishably dressed people sat around, cutting strange-looking western cuisine and talking softly between one another.
Ueda doesn’t stop walking, dodging smartly dressed waiters until he arrives at a heavy wooden door.
“Like it?” Ueda asks, smirking as he opens the door and pushes Kame into a dimly lit room.
Soft jazz music plays from the speakers, and the walls of the room are padded with material that have intricate patterns embroidered onto it. A sparkling chandelier hangs from the middle of the private room illuminating the beautifully garnished food laid ready on the table, steam rising from the dishes. There is a large mirror covering an entire wall of the room, and Kame feels that something isn’t right when he notes that Ueda locks the door with the knob as he closes it, and the fact that there seem to be what looks like a box of whips and handcuffs perched on the mantelpiece at one end of the room.
Kame swallows.
“What the hell is this place?”
“An S&M restaurant,” Ueda says easily as he plops himself into his seat, ignoring how wide Kame’s eyes are blown.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Ueda says, sipping from a tall glass, “Now sit your pretty ass down.”
Kame is very apprehensive as he sits before his plate of steaming ragu.
“Why did you choose this place?”
Ueda rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“You were the one who wanted a place that was ‘private’. Well, let me assure the great Kamenashi Kazuya that this is the most private place there is.”
Kame doesn’t answer. He is taking the Victorian-style richness around him with a sense of wonderment. It didn’t feel like they were in Japan anymore.
“Just how expensive is this place?” Kame asks, curious.
No way Ueda is able to afford all this extravagance.
Ueda merely shrugs, twirling his glass between long fingers.
“For me, it’s free,” Ueda says nonchalantly, “I work here from time to time for some extra cash. I’m one of the ‘Sadists’ in the joint who brings in most of the clients, so the manager lets me do whatever I like most of the time.”
Figures.
“I thought you were not allowed to work two jobs at once? Isn’t that like, a rule of Red Lotus or something?”
Ueda laughs harshly, but it is not directed at Kame.
“Like I give a shit,” he scoffs, “I do what I like. The old geezer can’t control me.”
But Kame is now concentrating on the way Ueda’s lips move as he speaks, and complete tunes everything else out. He gulps. Why is it that this man can be so damn gorgeous without trying? He’s practically sex on legs.
Ueda seems to notice Kame ogling him, because a smug smirk curls at his lips.
“Like what you see?” He asks softly, and Kame has to blink at the sudden gentleness in the rough man’s voice.
“You don’t look half bad, Kame,” Ueda continues, chuckling, “Fuckable almost.”
Kame’s face flushes and he turns away, completely forgetting to put of a front. Ueda tends to have that effect on him.
Ueda’s laughter echoes, and it is less cruel and more endearing than ever. Kame jumps at the feel of a cool finger caressing his cheek.
Ueda is watching him intently, studying him.
“Hey, Kame?” Ueda begins slowly, his voice deep and smooth. Kame shudders and balls his hands into fists, “Do you like pain?”
Kame splutters, but Ueda’s finger doesn’t stop tracing his cheekbone until he slaps the hand away.
“What the hell are you talking about? If that is a suggestion, I already said that I am not having sex with you.”
He is scowling, but Ueda only shakes his head and sighs dramatically.
“Kame, Kame. That’s not what I’m getting at. I already know you don’t want to fuck. You’ve made that perfectly clear,” Ueda says, holding up his hands in surrender, “But what I’m talking about is pain in general.”
Kame rolls his eyes.
“Of course not. Don’t be stupid and don’t try anything or you’ll have that carving knife up your ass before you know it.”
Ueda raises a brow.
“Unless… You are scared?”
The way Ueda says it makes Kame more intrigued than he already is, not to mention more pissed off, and when Kame is pissed off, all rational though goes flying out the window.
“Never, bitch. You’re on.”
Ueda grins.
“Good. Well then, my objective tonight is to ‘make you question your morals’. Basically, I am going to teach the stick-up-the-ass Kamenashi Kazuya how to like pain.”
“WHAT?”
Ueda ignores Kame and continues on.
“We’ll start with something simple. No bondage and shit, because you probably can’t handle it. I’ll begin with the basics: Knowing your place.”
Kame doesn’t know why, but when Ueda speaks like this, like he is the one in charge here, he feels weak at the knees, and really, Kame can’t suppress the shiver that goes straight to his cock for some reason.
“First thing is first, Kame. When we begin, I am the Dominant one here, so I set the rules. You cannot, and will not try to disobey me for the rest of the night. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you like our last date. I forget that TLC is needed after every session.”
Kame gulps.
“Last meeting… you mean that counted as a BDSM play or something?”
Ueda snorts in derision.
“Of course you fool. Psychological play is a faction of Dom/sub relationships. But you pissed me off too much and I decided to skip out on your TLC. I’m technically not supposed to do that, but I promise you I won’t this time.”
For some reason, Ueda’s sincerity reassures Kame a little.
“Anyway, what we are about to do is called role playing, just no sex involved. This comes with the package. I am a Sadist, so you are therefore a masochist. I am going to make you ‘question your morals’. You are going to see just how much you like pain. You see, pain doesn’t have to be a scary thing. It can be very, very fun as well. Trust me Kame, you’ll enjoy this.”
“B- But I don’t like pain.”
Oh God, this devil is making him stammer. Just what is going on?
Ueda just cackles.
“You only say that, but look at yourself,” Ueda picks up a fork and presses it to Kame’s cheek turning his face with the fork to make him look at the mirror, “You are sweating, your eyes are dilated, and you are breathing faster than before. You are fucking turned on, and I didn’t even touch you. Pathetic.”
Kame feels insulted, and he shows it, and agitatedly pushes the fork away.
“You know jack squat about what I like.”
Ueda shrugs, a lazy smirk on his face.
“Kame, Kame. Who in their right minds pays a prostitute to not have sex, but to break them psychologically? Please, you are one of the worst masochists I’ve ever met.”
Ueda leans into Kame’s personal space.
“So? Do you agree to the terms?”
Kame is silent for a long while.
“…tell me again.”
And Ueda knows he’s won.
He gladly repeats the rules, and Kame will be lying to himself if he says he isn’t interested.
“You cannot do anything I tell you not to do, and you most of all, do not question me. I am in charge once you agree to it.”
Kame is very intrigued.
“You won’t do anything illegal to me will you?” He asks uncertainly.
Ueda sneers.
“Pfft, of course not. My boss will kill me. And you are literally paying me to just relax, man. I don’t even have to swing my hips.”
Kame blushes at the thought, but he nods in agreement.
“Alright then.”
Ueda smirks.
“Good. From this point on, you will address me as Ueda-sama. You will not speak unless spoken to, and you will not contradict me in any way.”
Kame twitches at the urge to retaliate, his pride rearing it’s ugly head, but the strange pressure coiling at the pit of his stomach stops him from doing so.
Ueda reaches forward and grabs Kame’s face.
“The safe word is ‘Red’, okay? Do not fucking forget it Kame.”
Kame nods, tears springing involuntarily to his eyes at the force Ueda uses to grip his skin. He opens his mouth to speak, but remembering Ueda’s rules, struggles with his decision.
Ueda appears to enjoy his plight, but the man does allow him to speak.
“Ueda, abou-“
But then Ueda’s hand tightens around his face.
“What did I say to call me by, you wretch?”
Kame blinks.
“U-Ueda-s-sama…”
“Good boy,” Ueda purrs. and pats Kame’s head, ruffling the soft locks.
Ueda doesn’t release his face, but Kame watches apprehensively as Ueda reaches into a bowl (was that there before?!) and pulls out a handful of small red chillies. He drops them onto the table and picks out a particularly ripe one before turning back to face Kame.
“Sit up, Kame.”
Kame sits up. Ueda’s baritone runs through him and he shudders.
With the same hand, Ueda takes Kame’s glass of water off the table and empties it onto the rug without a second thought.
“Now, open up,” Ueda says, prodding the tip of the chilli against the seam of Kame’s lips.
Kame makes a small moaning noise in protest, and tries to turn his head away, but Ueda’s hand clamping his cheeks prevents it.
Kame wants to protest, because there is no way in fuckety fuck is he going to eat that, but Ueda glares at thin so sternly that Kame’s knees buckle.
“Remember what I said, Kame. The rules. If you break them, I will have no choice but to punish you.”
Kame glares daggers at the smug look on Ueda’s face, and reluctantly parts his lips. He could be hallucinating, but for a moment Kame thinks he sees Ueda’s eyes darken with something akin to desire for a split second, but then the chilli is shoved into his mouth, and his jaw is slammed shut forcefully by two hands.
“Eat up.”
As soon as his teeth breaks the skin of the chilli, his entire mouth burns. It isn’t a mild burn, like how peppers make your tongue feel - Kame’s mouth is feels like it’s literally on fire.
“Chew. Swallow. That’s it,” Ueda says, enjoyed the way Kame’s face twists in pain, “Now, you are not allowed to move or do anything until I say so, understand.”
Ueda then begins to eat his already cold meal without giving Kame a second glance.
Kame’s mouth burns. The heat from the chilli sears his tastebuds, and the tears are now flowing freely from his eyes. He can’t do this. He needs to drink. NOW. But then Ueda’s words come back in a torrent, and Kame suppresses the urge to scream.
This is torture. He is sure it is, but the submission, the feeling of someone else at the reins, the sensation of being ordered mingles with the spearing pains in his mouth and throat goes directly to his cock, and Kame’s whimpers.
Ueda looks very, very pleased, and Kame can see the man before him terribly close to loosing control.
“How is it Kame? How does it feel to be the one taking the orders, huh?”
Kame is be lying if he says he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t need to maintain control here, because Ueda is the one in charge now. Kame just needs to listen. This strange change in roles send shocks throughout his body. Maybe Ueda is right. Maybe he really is more of a masochist than he initially thought.
But since this is Kame’s first time, there is a limit to how much stress he can handle. Taking the chilli is fine, but the fact that his own body that is telling him to ‘get the fuck up and DRINK something’ is battling with the power of Ueda’s command is so psychologically exhausting that Kame doesn’t think he can keep this up. So it is not even fifteen minutes before he reaches breaking point.
“U-”
But then something presses sharply down onto the erection between his legs, and Kame yelps in shock. Ueda is watching him cooly, dark eyes flashing.
“I thought I said to not speak unless spoken to?”
Ueda foot presses down and drags across his crotch, making Kame wince. He feels exhausted and overstimulated for some reason, but Ueda isn’t listening.
“Ueda- Hiiiiiiii!”
Kame almost jolts off his seat when the foot between his legs moves up and down.
No, this is taking it a little beyond what he expected. Sexual harassment is not in the agreement, and really, Kame is too tired already.
“R-”
“Kame-chan, speak again and I’ll crush your-”
“I SAID RED.”
Kame gasps out hoarsely, and only then does Ueda snap out of his haze. Quickly, the man takes in the sight of Kame, shaking and sweaty, with tears streaming down a flushed face. The idol is a complete wreck, and it is then that Ueda realises that perhaps he overstepped his boundaries for a first-timer.
“Fuck, shit. Are you okay, Kame?”
Through the haze of pleasure, fear, pain, and exhaustion, Kame is surprised to hear the worry and concern in Ueda’s voice.
He feels a cool hand steadying him, and he flops sideways against a hard stomach. Immediately the scent to musk and cologne envelopes him, and all Kame wants to do now is sleep but the stinging fire in his mouth keep his conscious.
“You little shit, don’t pass out on me or my boss will have my hide. Actually, fuck that, you fans will have my head.”
Kame opens his eyes, and he can see Ueda’s face hovering close to his. The older man is wiping the tears and sweat away with a napkin, and instead of bringing a glass of water for him, Ueda scoops up a spoonful of moist plain white rice from his plate and presses the cool metal against Kame’s lips.
“Water won’t help. You need the rice to soak up whatever the chilli left behind. Now eat.”
Kame obediently opens his mouth, and Ueda is correct, the white rice does help. Ueda feeds him a few more scoops, until the burning heat is reduced to a slight spicy sting.
Kame finally gets his bearings back and tries to straighten up, blinking blearily.
“What the hell was that?” He rasps, glaring sideways at Ueda.
“What?”
Kame growls.
“Sticking your foot on my dick. That isn’t in the deal, Ueda. Do that again, and I’ll decapitate you.”
Ueda sighs and nods.
“Fine. I suppose I went out of line,” he admits, “But it’s kinda hard to hold back when you look so-”
Ueda stops.
Kame raises a brow.
“So…?”
Ueda merely looks at Kame and shrugs.
“Forget it.”
He cards a hand through Kame’s sweaty locks.
“Sorry about that,” he says, “I forget that you are new to this.”
The way Ueda is treating Kame is strangely intimate, which makes Kame quirk a brow.
“What is this?” He rasps, tried out.
The smile that Ueda shows him is so gentle and caring that Kame feels his heart skip a beat.
“It’s called ‘Aftercare’ douchebag,” Ueda says playfully, “Get used to it, because you’ll be getting a lot more of it with what is about of come in future.”
///
Third Meeting
December 31st 2014
1300 hours
///
That strange meeting/date had become the bridge that opened Kame to many, many things he never realised about himself. Kame doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he does know that he feels something for Ueda. He’ll admit that at least.
Whether it is love of whatever, only time will tell.
Kame had begun to be more accepting of himself, and he had begun to see the glaring flaws in his and Jin’s relationship. How he had missed it, Kame doesn’t understand.
He and Ueda became closer, to the point that they would call each other frequently. Whenever Ueda called, he had most likely finished up with a client. In Kame’s case, it would be whenever he had a break between film shooting and band rehearsals.
Yamapi had shown up at Kame house two days after their last date to report how Ueda was refusing customers a lot more, and it was pissing his boss off immensely.
“Do you have anything to do with it?” Yamapi had asked.
Kame only shrugged and commented on how it was none of his business, really. But inside he can’t help but feel slightly flattered and appreciated. Who would have known that Ueda could be so… normal? But did that mean that the other man had feelings for him as well?
There really isn’t any other explanation available, unless Ueda was playing with him that is, but Kame decides to give Ueda the benefit of the doubt.
Kame had also received notice that Jin would be back before new year. The other man had being calling him less and less. This was something that kept niggling at the back of Kame’s mind, but he had already come to a confirmation. He needed to break this off with Jin, because it wasn’t working out at all. He didn’t love Jin, and it wasn’t fair to keep this hanging.
But today?
Today Kame decides that he is just going relax. No Ueda, no Jin, and no goddamn paparazzi. But then his stupid, stupid phone buzzes, and Kame wonders why he didn’t shut the damn thing off.
“Hello?” Kame begins, as polite as ever, but is interrupted by a loud voice on the other end.
“Are you free today?”
Kame blinks.
“Ueda? Why- Why? I mean, I’m the client, so I’m supposed to be the one making the plans.”
“Just shut up with your nonsense for a bit and answer the question won’t you?”
Kame runs a hand tiredly down his face.
“Jesus,” he groans, “No, no. I don’t have plans today. It’s my damn day off, Ueda. The fuck do you want?”
“Great. I’m coming to pick you up in five minutes, so be ready by then, okay? Good. Bye.”
And the older man hangs up without waiting for an answer, which makes a tick mark throb at Kame’s forehead.
“The asshole doesn’t even know where I live,” Kame mutters.
But like everything, Ueda manages to surpass his expectations once again, and arrives at the door of his high-rise apartment dressed in a thick leather jacket, jeans, and boots. Kame wearing only a white turtleneck and tight jeans can only blink at the other male is bewilderment.
“You know where I live.”
Kame’s voice is hoarse. How is this even possible? Had his address been leaked?
Ueda only frowns as he stares Kame up and down.
“I thought I told you to get ready,” he says, irritated, “Oh whatever. If you catch a fucking cold, it’s not my fault.”
Despite Kame’s vehement protests, Ueda drags Kame out of his home, to the elevators, and finally wrestles the squirming man toward his monster of a motorcycle parked in the parking lot.
“Get on.”
Kame’s jaw just moves up and down, but no woods escape it, because he can’t believe his ears.
“Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t serious, you retard.” Ueda says, and pushes past Kame before gabbing him by the wrist of his arm and pulling him to the bike.
“You ass! I can’t just flaunt my bare face around in public on your bike!” Kame hisses and ducks his head, trying to shy away, “Let me go!”
“Shut up, Kame-chan, and live a little.” Ueda says, and continues dragging Kame along until the man is lumped unceremoniously onto the seat of the bike. Kame is reluctant. Very reluctant. He can see this ending up in every possible bad way there is. Perhaps he can inconspicuously scratch several deep gashes into the paint of the motorcycle as payback, who knows? Kame finally relents and tugs on the helmet before settling behind Ueda. He tries not to hold onto the man, and grips at the base of the seat tightly with both hands.
“The fuck are you doing?” Ueda snaps, voice muffled by his helmet. “Hold on properly. I’m not going to be the one responsible for your death, you moron.”
“Over my dead body.” Kame spits.
Ueda’s eyes narrow, but he shrugs and revs up the engine, and Kame only has a fraction of a second before the entire bike lurches forwards and shoots like a bullet out of the lot, dodging cars and squeezing between buses. His fingers are digging painfully into something soft, and it is only moments before he realises that his fingers are practically biting into the taut flesh of Ueda’s waist.
Kame would have let go if he could, but he really isn’t planning on dying anytime soon, so he settles for clawing as much as possible at Ueda’s waist. Perhaps he might just leave several fingernail marks as payback.
“How do you even know where I live?” Ueda half shouts over the roar of the motorcycle engine.
“Who do you think I am?” Ueda shouts back. “I have my sources!”
Kame gnashes his teeth, and he tells Ueda to kindly piss off, but not before making him swear never to tell anyone about it. Kame still very much likes his job, and the last thing he needs is for someone to pimp out information that would no doubt lead to his manager flipping the universe and Johnny to kill him and perhaps stash his body in his closet forever. Kame isn’t really that keen on sitting in a dark hole forever along with all the little horrors that dwell in the depths of Johnny Kitagawa’s closet.
When they arrive at a complex of old shophouses, Ryuu kills the engine and throws Kame’s hands off his waist aggressively.
“You ungrateful little-” he hisses, massaging his hips.
Kame laughs for the first time that day as he slips off the bike, removing his helmet and shoving it at Ueda.
“Payback,” he says, shaking his coppery hair free from being plastered to his head. Ueda is staring at him strangely as he does this.
“You really do look like a girl,” he finally says, and Kame feels like hitting him.
“I never really thought about it before, but you’ve always looked like a girl, from the billboards and shit, but now only more so.”
His tone is not mocking, but genuinely curious and strangely gentle.
Kame doesn’t say anything. All he does is mutter a quiet and uncertain thanks and turns away from Ueda to look at the place.
“Where is this?”
“My gym,” Ueda says nonchalantly as he locks his bike in place. “C’mon. I want to show you.”
Kame follows Ueda down a flight of narrow steps, intrigued.
“You box? Are you any good at it?” Kame asks, laughing.
“Please, I could crack your skull open without even trying.”
The gym is lit by a single naked light bulb hanging from the centre of the room. Most of the space is taken up by a large boxing ring and the rest by a group of worn lockers, several benches, and a water fountain. It is bitingly cold, and Kame shivers.
He is slightly surprised by the state of the gym. It just doesn’t seem like Ueda’s style to go for such a dilapidated place.
“I own the place actually,” Ueda says, shrugging, “Bought it from some guy. It was the best place they had that was within price range.”
Kame approaches Ueda, confused.
“Why? I mean, don’t you already have a job?”
Ueda laughs humourlessly.
“I’ve always loved boxing,” he says quietly, “It’s like a release. Something that I can do and am good at, other than fucking that is.”
The conversation taking a more serious turn, Kame wraps his arms tighter around himself, trying to bury his body into the soft fabric of his turtleneck. He doesn’t know why Ueda is saying this. He doesn’t fucking know why Ueda asked him out and then brought him here. There is no logic and it makes no sense.
“Hey, Kame?”
Kame hums in response, and Ueda meets his gaze. The smouldering look forces a blush to rise to his cheeks. It doesn’t help that the room is ridiculously cold (it’s still winter goddammit) and Ueda - the ass - suddenly reaches up and caresses the side of Kame’s face.
His touch is gentle and strangely warm.
“Do you like me?”
It takes awhile for the situation to register, but when it does, Kame backs away hastily, drawing away from Ueda.
“W-What-”
“Are you fucking retarded? I asked if you liked me.”
Ueda reaches out to grab Kame’s wrist. And the smaller man gasps. Damn it all, but his writs feels to small and fragile in Ueda’s larger, more calloused hand.
“I-I,” Kame tries, “I mean, I don’t- I do, I mean. I can’t-”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to answer now. But you have to a least admit that you feel something for me. Don’t lie, Kame, or I might just murder you right here.”
Kame swallows roughly.
“Y- Yes,” he finally whispers, “I do.”
Ueda stares at him hard, trying to detect a lie. But then, his face bursts out in the brightest smile ever, and Kame thinks he might melt. Ueda much, much nicer now, although his sadistic personality doesn’t let up, Kame can see that the man cares a lot more for him, but he doesn’t feel stifled.
“Why did you bring me out here, Ueda?” Kame asks quietly, after a few seconds of silence.
Ueda doesn’t answer at once.
“I’m quitting my job,” he says simply, “I’m planing to open gym and try to recruit students. I figure that I rather not spend the rest of my life trying to get STDs.”
Kame blinks.
“But… Isn’t your boss going to flip?”
“Fuck him,” Ueda says with a dismissive flick of his wrist, “I’d rather spend my time with you.”
…
…
“What?”
This time, Ueda groans loud and long.
“You are really dense, Idiot-Kame. Am I not putting out enough signals? What the heck is wrong with you?”
“NO! No, it’s not that, but- Jin-”
“Break it off with him,” Ueda says flatly, “You neither love him nor care for him. So break it off. Just… try to be with me, Kame. I’m not asking for a commitment or whatever, but… d’you suppose you could at least try?”
The cold room is silent expect for soft breathing.
The frost hangs in the air like soft icicles, and Kame can see his breath. He is so close to Ueda that he can feel the other man’s body heat, but not close enough to touch.
Kame’s words cut through the cold quiet like a blade.
“I’ll break up with Jin.”
The unspoken words linger, and Ueda can hear them loud and clear.
I’ll do it for you.
Kame knows he’s sacrificing security and stability, but if it’s Ueda, he doesn’t really mind at all.
///
???
January 1st 2015
??? hours
///
Ueda can’t remember how many days it has been since that conversation, but he hasn’t seen Kame in awhile.
The news informed that Akanishi Jin had arrived at Japan late last night.
No matter how many times he tries to call Kame, the man does not pick up, and this worries Ueda. He isn’t sure when exactly he started to fall for the idol. Perhaps it was somewhere in between their ‘dates’, texts, and calls, but he does know that he cannot let Kame run back to Akanishi.
Ueda isn’t sure what time it is now, but it is fucking late, probably after lunchtime. Kame is still not picking up, so Ueda debates on whether to just drive up to his apartment and shake the daylights out of the man.
Sighing, he plops down on his ratty couch and switches on the television. Ueda plans on just leaving it on some random channel and the just stewing in the rotten program until Kame calls him back.
But the minutes he flips on the channel, Ueda’s half-lidded eyes are blown wide.
Grabbing the remote, he increases the volume of the TV, his eyes glued to the small screen.
‘SINGER SONGWRITER, AKANISHI JIN CAUGHT CHEATING ON IDOL KAMENASHI KAZUYA WHILE ON TOUR!’
The flashing headline makes his head spin.
The news program continues on with clips of Kame walking out of a building with another man trailing a ways behind. Ueda can only assume that it is Akanishi.
What makes him balk is the sea of reporters and fans that flood the front of the building and crowd around Kame, poking and prodding microphones at his face, completely ignoring the repeated ‘no comment’ that Kame gives them as a reply.
Ueda flips to the next channel.
It is also broadcasting the same scandal, but this time, it is showing an aerial shot of Kame’s house, surrounded by reporters and paparazzi, some climbing trees to get a good look into the idol’s home, and some trying to open the windows by force.
Ueda feels his gut burn with hate and irritation. How dared they do this to Kame?
The next channel is the same, but with close up shots of Kame’s face.
Ueda feels his heart clench painfully at the sight of Kame’s pale and pallid face as the idol tries to swat the camera away.
Kame is out there while all those fucking vultures were trying to pick at his already shattered being.
Ueda gets to his feet, determined to beat up anyone to find out where the hell Kame is, but then there are several soft knocks at his door.
For some reason, he isn’t surprised when he sees Kame’s small form standing before him when he opens the door.
The smaller man has bags underneath his eyes and he looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks. He looks so fragile that Ueda just can’t-
“Get in, you idiot,” he says gruffly, “I don’t want any douchebag paparazzo finding my place.”
Ueda shuts the door and locks and bolts it. Yanking shut the curtains as well, he makes sure that everything is covered before leading the dangerously thin Kame to the couch.
Kame sits there without a word, looking more dead than Ueda has ever seen.
“I’m not even going to ask how you found out where I lived,” Ueda sighs, scratching the back of his neck.
Kame doesn’t even blink.
Ueda swallows uncertainly.
“I heard,” he says.
As tactful as ever. God fucking dammit.
Kame smiles weakly at that.
“I know,” he says, “The whole of Japan knows. By the end of the day, the whole fucking world will know. This is a complete clusterfuck of a situation.”
Ueda is sure it hasn’t been a day since this scandal, and Kame looks like he just went over the deep end.
“Are you - I dunno - okay?”
Kame scoffs.
“What do you think?”
Ueda shrugs.
“You didn’t exactly love him, so-”
“… I’m not really sad or anything,” Kame interrupts, “I mean, I lost interest ages ago. It was mostly respect and understanding that I didn’t completely give in. I fucking gave the bastard face, Ueda.”
And Kame’s voice cracks.
Ueda is silent. He lets the shattered man continue.
“I wouldn’t have cared much if he just told me that he wanted to break up. I mean- It’s really more humiliation than anything. Do you know how many reporters were outside my apartment after that? I can’t go anywhere without being followed. I can’t fucking do this any-”
Ueda decides to shut Kame up with a kiss.
It is messy and they bump teeth more then once, but Ueda really doesn’t care because Kame is his now.
“I like you, Kame. I really do,” Ueda whispers, gathering Kame’s body into his arms and resting his head on one of his shoulders.
Kame however, merely grits his teeth and shoves Ueda down onto the floor. They land with a sharp thud and a tangle of limbs. Kame hovers over Ueda’s form with dark dilated eyes, his hard curling softly around his thin cheeks and alabaster skin. He bends low and whispers into the shell of Ueda’s ear.
“If you really do, then fuck me. Fuck me hard, and you’d better make it hurt.”
Ueda doesn’t need further prompting to comply.
Kame doesn’t know what the future holds, and all he knows is that Ueda will definitely need to quit his job now, and he himself will need to learn how to power through this Jin scandal without breaking and get is career back on track. But he is willing to try, because as long as Ueda is next to him, he’ll not stop trying.
FIN
///
Second Meeting
December 21st 2014
2100 hours
///
Kame needed awhile to recover after his ‘date’. But he didn’t feel guilty at all when he returned home after Ueda left that day and promptly shoved a hand down the front of his pants the minute he got through the genkan and immediately got down to business.
After coming harder than he ever had in a long time, Kame decided that really, he probably needed at least a week of recovery before doing anything else.
Of course his manager, Junno, and the director of his movie had blown up at him, but all for different reasons. Junno and his manager most likely from worry, but the director was definitely from frustration and annoyance that the filming had to be put on hold.
Kame had only been gone for two days when news reports on how ‘KAMENASHI KAZUYA, POSSIBLE EARLY RETIREMENT’ or ‘KAMENASHI KAZUYA. KIDNAPPED??’ started to pop out at an alarming rate.
He needed to resurface quick.
But just a day after that, Kame woke up to his phone vibrating at about two in the morning. He expected it to be a text from Junno, or perhaps his worrywart of a manager, but to his utmost shock, it was from Ueda.
Kame had immediately sat up straight as a board and flipped open his phone.
[Are you fucking dead or something?]
And Kame, despite everything, couldn’t suppress a laugh.
That was the start of a strange friendship/client-businessman relationship between him and Ueda. Kame never found out why Ueda texted him, but he liked to think that the man was at least slightly worried, or even curious to why he disappeared for a few days.
Ueda turned out to be a very good person to talk or vent to, because the man never seemed to take anything seriously. His replies were usually short, to the point, and cluttered with typos and spelling errors.
Because of his jam packed schedule, Kame was unable to contact Ueda to set up another date, which to his utmost surprise, the older man was very annoyed because of it. Their texts turned from weekly to daily, and from daily to hourly. Kame found himself smiling a lot more, which led to a very suspicious Junno, who cornered him and interrogated the life out of Kame.
Kame also found himself forgetting to call Jin, leading to a barrage of missed calls and flow of text messages which bill would have made his eyes pop. Kame always apologises, but he could tell that Jin wasn’t very happy with him at all.
This couldn’t go on, and maybe Pi was right. Kame had to stop clinging to ‘safety’ as Ueda called it. However, Kame didn’t get much chance to ponder over his failing relationship, because Ueda - the annoying yet strangely endearing fuck began to occupy his attention more and more. Despite not being able to see Ueda, their texts were perhaps the only thing that kept Kame going through those weeks.
Roughly a month after their first (almost disastrous) date, Kame was able to finally get a day off. He had called Ueda who picked up in three rings and answered his hesitant ‘Hello?’ with a hoarse ‘Who the fuck is this and what the fuck do you want?’
Kame had laughed then and there, which led to an undignified yelp and some scrambling over the line before a sharp thud followed it.
Ueda sounded rather ruffled and panicked when he finally spoke into the receiver, grunting out a reluctant apology, his words slurring. Kame could tell the man was dead drunk, but when he asked if Ueda would be sober enough to go out for dinner that night, the older man had immediately rightened his voice and agreed almost instantly, the only condition being that Ueda would be the one who picked the place.
Kame really didn’t have a problem, given that it was private and far, far away from any paparazzi cameras.
Which is why he is now standing in front of a very strange, victorian-styled building in the middle of a quiet suburb. There are literally no cars nor people around that Kame wonders if he has the wrong address. Staring up at the building, Kame notes that it is very elegant, built in a very western fashion complete with the naked stone carvings of cupid and naked women on the support pillars. The curtains were draw for every window of the three storey house, and Kame can feel the aura of mystery radiating off the slivers of dim yellow lighting that peeks through the cracks between the curtain fabric.
Kame flips open his phone, debating of whether to call Ueda to ask just where in the holy hell he is, because this is winter goddammit, but then the thick mahogany front doors of the house opens, and it is Ueda who sticks his head out. Spotting Kame, he scowls and stomps out toward the bewildered man.
“You are goddamn late,” Ueda snaps, but less unkindly than their last date, “Come on.”
Kame tries to protest, but he is dragged into the house by a very persistent Ueda. He feels as though he just entered a different dimension the minute the door slams shut behind him. Kame is pulled mercilessly down a dimly lit corridor which has small chandeliers dangling from the ceiling, casting an eerie glow against the walls. Kame notes that the ‘house’ isn’t a house, but a very private restaurant. There are several doorways along the corridor that lead into large rooms filled with rich wooden tables and soft horsehair chairs. Distinguishably dressed people sat around, cutting strange-looking western cuisine and talking softly between one another.
Ueda doesn’t stop walking, dodging smartly dressed waiters until he arrives at a heavy wooden door.
“Like it?” Ueda asks, smirking as he opens the door and pushes Kame into a dimly lit room.
Soft jazz music plays from the speakers, and the walls of the room are padded with material that have intricate patterns embroidered onto it. A sparkling chandelier hangs from the middle of the private room illuminating the beautifully garnished food laid ready on the table, steam rising from the dishes. There is a large mirror covering an entire wall of the room, and Kame feels that something isn’t right when he notes that Ueda locks the door with the knob as he closes it, and the fact that there seem to be what looks like a box of whips and handcuffs perched on the mantelpiece at one end of the room.
Kame swallows.
“What the hell is this place?”
“An S&M restaurant,” Ueda says easily as he plops himself into his seat, ignoring how wide Kame’s eyes are blown.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” Ueda says, sipping from a tall glass, “Now sit your pretty ass down.”
Kame is very apprehensive as he sits before his plate of steaming ragu.
“Why did you choose this place?”
Ueda rolls his eyes and scoffs.
“You were the one who wanted a place that was ‘private’. Well, let me assure the great Kamenashi Kazuya that this is the most private place there is.”
Kame doesn’t answer. He is taking the Victorian-style richness around him with a sense of wonderment. It didn’t feel like they were in Japan anymore.
“Just how expensive is this place?” Kame asks, curious.
No way Ueda is able to afford all this extravagance.
Ueda merely shrugs, twirling his glass between long fingers.
“For me, it’s free,” Ueda says nonchalantly, “I work here from time to time for some extra cash. I’m one of the ‘Sadists’ in the joint who brings in most of the clients, so the manager lets me do whatever I like most of the time.”
Figures.
“I thought you were not allowed to work two jobs at once? Isn’t that like, a rule of Red Lotus or something?”
Ueda laughs harshly, but it is not directed at Kame.
“Like I give a shit,” he scoffs, “I do what I like. The old geezer can’t control me.”
But Kame is now concentrating on the way Ueda’s lips move as he speaks, and complete tunes everything else out. He gulps. Why is it that this man can be so damn gorgeous without trying? He’s practically sex on legs.
Ueda seems to notice Kame ogling him, because a smug smirk curls at his lips.
“Like what you see?” He asks softly, and Kame has to blink at the sudden gentleness in the rough man’s voice.
“You don’t look half bad, Kame,” Ueda continues, chuckling, “Fuckable almost.”
Kame’s face flushes and he turns away, completely forgetting to put of a front. Ueda tends to have that effect on him.
Ueda’s laughter echoes, and it is less cruel and more endearing than ever. Kame jumps at the feel of a cool finger caressing his cheek.
Ueda is watching him intently, studying him.
“Hey, Kame?” Ueda begins slowly, his voice deep and smooth. Kame shudders and balls his hands into fists, “Do you like pain?”
Kame splutters, but Ueda’s finger doesn’t stop tracing his cheekbone until he slaps the hand away.
“What the hell are you talking about? If that is a suggestion, I already said that I am not having sex with you.”
He is scowling, but Ueda only shakes his head and sighs dramatically.
“Kame, Kame. That’s not what I’m getting at. I already know you don’t want to fuck. You’ve made that perfectly clear,” Ueda says, holding up his hands in surrender, “But what I’m talking about is pain in general.”
Kame rolls his eyes.
“Of course not. Don’t be stupid and don’t try anything or you’ll have that carving knife up your ass before you know it.”
Ueda raises a brow.
“Unless… You are scared?”
The way Ueda says it makes Kame more intrigued than he already is, not to mention more pissed off, and when Kame is pissed off, all rational though goes flying out the window.
“Never, bitch. You’re on.”
Ueda grins.
“Good. Well then, my objective tonight is to ‘make you question your morals’. Basically, I am going to teach the stick-up-the-ass Kamenashi Kazuya how to like pain.”
“WHAT?”
Ueda ignores Kame and continues on.
“We’ll start with something simple. No bondage and shit, because you probably can’t handle it. I’ll begin with the basics: Knowing your place.”
Kame doesn’t know why, but when Ueda speaks like this, like he is the one in charge here, he feels weak at the knees, and really, Kame can’t suppress the shiver that goes straight to his cock for some reason.
“First thing is first, Kame. When we begin, I am the Dominant one here, so I set the rules. You cannot, and will not try to disobey me for the rest of the night. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you like our last date. I forget that TLC is needed after every session.”
Kame gulps.
“Last meeting… you mean that counted as a BDSM play or something?”
Ueda snorts in derision.
“Of course you fool. Psychological play is a faction of Dom/sub relationships. But you pissed me off too much and I decided to skip out on your TLC. I’m technically not supposed to do that, but I promise you I won’t this time.”
For some reason, Ueda’s sincerity reassures Kame a little.
“Anyway, what we are about to do is called role playing, just no sex involved. This comes with the package. I am a Sadist, so you are therefore a masochist. I am going to make you ‘question your morals’. You are going to see just how much you like pain. You see, pain doesn’t have to be a scary thing. It can be very, very fun as well. Trust me Kame, you’ll enjoy this.”
“B- But I don’t like pain.”
Oh God, this devil is making him stammer. Just what is going on?
Ueda just cackles.
“You only say that, but look at yourself,” Ueda picks up a fork and presses it to Kame’s cheek turning his face with the fork to make him look at the mirror, “You are sweating, your eyes are dilated, and you are breathing faster than before. You are fucking turned on, and I didn’t even touch you. Pathetic.”
Kame feels insulted, and he shows it, and agitatedly pushes the fork away.
“You know jack squat about what I like.”
Ueda shrugs, a lazy smirk on his face.
“Kame, Kame. Who in their right minds pays a prostitute to not have sex, but to break them psychologically? Please, you are one of the worst masochists I’ve ever met.”
Ueda leans into Kame’s personal space.
“So? Do you agree to the terms?”
Kame is silent for a long while.
“…tell me again.”
And Ueda knows he’s won.
He gladly repeats the rules, and Kame will be lying to himself if he says he isn’t interested.
“You cannot do anything I tell you not to do, and you most of all, do not question me. I am in charge once you agree to it.”
Kame is very intrigued.
“You won’t do anything illegal to me will you?” He asks uncertainly.
Ueda sneers.
“Pfft, of course not. My boss will kill me. And you are literally paying me to just relax, man. I don’t even have to swing my hips.”
Kame blushes at the thought, but he nods in agreement.
“Alright then.”
Ueda smirks.
“Good. From this point on, you will address me as Ueda-sama. You will not speak unless spoken to, and you will not contradict me in any way.”
Kame twitches at the urge to retaliate, his pride rearing it’s ugly head, but the strange pressure coiling at the pit of his stomach stops him from doing so.
Ueda reaches forward and grabs Kame’s face.
“The safe word is ‘Red’, okay? Do not fucking forget it Kame.”
Kame nods, tears springing involuntarily to his eyes at the force Ueda uses to grip his skin. He opens his mouth to speak, but remembering Ueda’s rules, struggles with his decision.
Ueda appears to enjoy his plight, but the man does allow him to speak.
“Ueda, abou-“
But then Ueda’s hand tightens around his face.
“What did I say to call me by, you wretch?”
Kame blinks.
“U-Ueda-s-sama…”
“Good boy,” Ueda purrs. and pats Kame’s head, ruffling the soft locks.
Ueda doesn’t release his face, but Kame watches apprehensively as Ueda reaches into a bowl (was that there before?!) and pulls out a handful of small red chillies. He drops them onto the table and picks out a particularly ripe one before turning back to face Kame.
“Sit up, Kame.”
Kame sits up. Ueda’s baritone runs through him and he shudders.
With the same hand, Ueda takes Kame’s glass of water off the table and empties it onto the rug without a second thought.
“Now, open up,” Ueda says, prodding the tip of the chilli against the seam of Kame’s lips.
Kame makes a small moaning noise in protest, and tries to turn his head away, but Ueda’s hand clamping his cheeks prevents it.
Kame wants to protest, because there is no way in fuckety fuck is he going to eat that, but Ueda glares at thin so sternly that Kame’s knees buckle.
“Remember what I said, Kame. The rules. If you break them, I will have no choice but to punish you.”
Kame glares daggers at the smug look on Ueda’s face, and reluctantly parts his lips. He could be hallucinating, but for a moment Kame thinks he sees Ueda’s eyes darken with something akin to desire for a split second, but then the chilli is shoved into his mouth, and his jaw is slammed shut forcefully by two hands.
“Eat up.”
As soon as his teeth breaks the skin of the chilli, his entire mouth burns. It isn’t a mild burn, like how peppers make your tongue feel - Kame’s mouth is feels like it’s literally on fire.
“Chew. Swallow. That’s it,” Ueda says, enjoyed the way Kame’s face twists in pain, “Now, you are not allowed to move or do anything until I say so, understand.”
Ueda then begins to eat his already cold meal without giving Kame a second glance.
Kame’s mouth burns. The heat from the chilli sears his tastebuds, and the tears are now flowing freely from his eyes. He can’t do this. He needs to drink. NOW. But then Ueda’s words come back in a torrent, and Kame suppresses the urge to scream.
This is torture. He is sure it is, but the submission, the feeling of someone else at the reins, the sensation of being ordered mingles with the spearing pains in his mouth and throat goes directly to his cock, and Kame’s whimpers.
Ueda looks very, very pleased, and Kame can see the man before him terribly close to loosing control.
“How is it Kame? How does it feel to be the one taking the orders, huh?”
Kame is be lying if he says he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t need to maintain control here, because Ueda is the one in charge now. Kame just needs to listen. This strange change in roles send shocks throughout his body. Maybe Ueda is right. Maybe he really is more of a masochist than he initially thought.
But since this is Kame’s first time, there is a limit to how much stress he can handle. Taking the chilli is fine, but the fact that his own body that is telling him to ‘get the fuck up and DRINK something’ is battling with the power of Ueda’s command is so psychologically exhausting that Kame doesn’t think he can keep this up. So it is not even fifteen minutes before he reaches breaking point.
“U-”
But then something presses sharply down onto the erection between his legs, and Kame yelps in shock. Ueda is watching him cooly, dark eyes flashing.
“I thought I said to not speak unless spoken to?”
Ueda foot presses down and drags across his crotch, making Kame wince. He feels exhausted and overstimulated for some reason, but Ueda isn’t listening.
“Ueda- Hiiiiiiii!”
Kame almost jolts off his seat when the foot between his legs moves up and down.
No, this is taking it a little beyond what he expected. Sexual harassment is not in the agreement, and really, Kame is too tired already.
“R-”
“Kame-chan, speak again and I’ll crush your-”
“I SAID RED.”
Kame gasps out hoarsely, and only then does Ueda snap out of his haze. Quickly, the man takes in the sight of Kame, shaking and sweaty, with tears streaming down a flushed face. The idol is a complete wreck, and it is then that Ueda realises that perhaps he overstepped his boundaries for a first-timer.
“Fuck, shit. Are you okay, Kame?”
Through the haze of pleasure, fear, pain, and exhaustion, Kame is surprised to hear the worry and concern in Ueda’s voice.
He feels a cool hand steadying him, and he flops sideways against a hard stomach. Immediately the scent to musk and cologne envelopes him, and all Kame wants to do now is sleep but the stinging fire in his mouth keep his conscious.
“You little shit, don’t pass out on me or my boss will have my hide. Actually, fuck that, you fans will have my head.”
Kame opens his eyes, and he can see Ueda’s face hovering close to his. The older man is wiping the tears and sweat away with a napkin, and instead of bringing a glass of water for him, Ueda scoops up a spoonful of moist plain white rice from his plate and presses the cool metal against Kame’s lips.
“Water won’t help. You need the rice to soak up whatever the chilli left behind. Now eat.”
Kame obediently opens his mouth, and Ueda is correct, the white rice does help. Ueda feeds him a few more scoops, until the burning heat is reduced to a slight spicy sting.
Kame finally gets his bearings back and tries to straighten up, blinking blearily.
“What the hell was that?” He rasps, glaring sideways at Ueda.
“What?”
Kame growls.
“Sticking your foot on my dick. That isn’t in the deal, Ueda. Do that again, and I’ll decapitate you.”
Ueda sighs and nods.
“Fine. I suppose I went out of line,” he admits, “But it’s kinda hard to hold back when you look so-”
Ueda stops.
Kame raises a brow.
“So…?”
Ueda merely looks at Kame and shrugs.
“Forget it.”
He cards a hand through Kame’s sweaty locks.
“Sorry about that,” he says, “I forget that you are new to this.”
The way Ueda is treating Kame is strangely intimate, which makes Kame quirk a brow.
“What is this?” He rasps, tried out.
The smile that Ueda shows him is so gentle and caring that Kame feels his heart skip a beat.
“It’s called ‘Aftercare’ douchebag,” Ueda says playfully, “Get used to it, because you’ll be getting a lot more of it with what is about of come in future.”
///
Third Meeting
December 31st 2014
1300 hours
///
That strange meeting/date had become the bridge that opened Kame to many, many things he never realised about himself. Kame doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but he does know that he feels something for Ueda. He’ll admit that at least.
Whether it is love of whatever, only time will tell.
Kame had begun to be more accepting of himself, and he had begun to see the glaring flaws in his and Jin’s relationship. How he had missed it, Kame doesn’t understand.
He and Ueda became closer, to the point that they would call each other frequently. Whenever Ueda called, he had most likely finished up with a client. In Kame’s case, it would be whenever he had a break between film shooting and band rehearsals.
Yamapi had shown up at Kame house two days after their last date to report how Ueda was refusing customers a lot more, and it was pissing his boss off immensely.
“Do you have anything to do with it?” Yamapi had asked.
Kame only shrugged and commented on how it was none of his business, really. But inside he can’t help but feel slightly flattered and appreciated. Who would have known that Ueda could be so… normal? But did that mean that the other man had feelings for him as well?
There really isn’t any other explanation available, unless Ueda was playing with him that is, but Kame decides to give Ueda the benefit of the doubt.
Kame had also received notice that Jin would be back before new year. The other man had being calling him less and less. This was something that kept niggling at the back of Kame’s mind, but he had already come to a confirmation. He needed to break this off with Jin, because it wasn’t working out at all. He didn’t love Jin, and it wasn’t fair to keep this hanging.
But today?
Today Kame decides that he is just going relax. No Ueda, no Jin, and no goddamn paparazzi. But then his stupid, stupid phone buzzes, and Kame wonders why he didn’t shut the damn thing off.
“Hello?” Kame begins, as polite as ever, but is interrupted by a loud voice on the other end.
“Are you free today?”
Kame blinks.
“Ueda? Why- Why? I mean, I’m the client, so I’m supposed to be the one making the plans.”
“Just shut up with your nonsense for a bit and answer the question won’t you?”
Kame runs a hand tiredly down his face.
“Jesus,” he groans, “No, no. I don’t have plans today. It’s my damn day off, Ueda. The fuck do you want?”
“Great. I’m coming to pick you up in five minutes, so be ready by then, okay? Good. Bye.”
And the older man hangs up without waiting for an answer, which makes a tick mark throb at Kame’s forehead.
“The asshole doesn’t even know where I live,” Kame mutters.
But like everything, Ueda manages to surpass his expectations once again, and arrives at the door of his high-rise apartment dressed in a thick leather jacket, jeans, and boots. Kame wearing only a white turtleneck and tight jeans can only blink at the other male is bewilderment.
“You know where I live.”
Kame’s voice is hoarse. How is this even possible? Had his address been leaked?
Ueda only frowns as he stares Kame up and down.
“I thought I told you to get ready,” he says, irritated, “Oh whatever. If you catch a fucking cold, it’s not my fault.”
Despite Kame’s vehement protests, Ueda drags Kame out of his home, to the elevators, and finally wrestles the squirming man toward his monster of a motorcycle parked in the parking lot.
“Get on.”
Kame’s jaw just moves up and down, but no woods escape it, because he can’t believe his ears.
“Are you serious?”
“I wouldn’t be asking you if I wasn’t serious, you retard.” Ueda says, and pushes past Kame before gabbing him by the wrist of his arm and pulling him to the bike.
“You ass! I can’t just flaunt my bare face around in public on your bike!” Kame hisses and ducks his head, trying to shy away, “Let me go!”
“Shut up, Kame-chan, and live a little.” Ueda says, and continues dragging Kame along until the man is lumped unceremoniously onto the seat of the bike. Kame is reluctant. Very reluctant. He can see this ending up in every possible bad way there is. Perhaps he can inconspicuously scratch several deep gashes into the paint of the motorcycle as payback, who knows? Kame finally relents and tugs on the helmet before settling behind Ueda. He tries not to hold onto the man, and grips at the base of the seat tightly with both hands.
“The fuck are you doing?” Ueda snaps, voice muffled by his helmet. “Hold on properly. I’m not going to be the one responsible for your death, you moron.”
“Over my dead body.” Kame spits.
Ueda’s eyes narrow, but he shrugs and revs up the engine, and Kame only has a fraction of a second before the entire bike lurches forwards and shoots like a bullet out of the lot, dodging cars and squeezing between buses. His fingers are digging painfully into something soft, and it is only moments before he realises that his fingers are practically biting into the taut flesh of Ueda’s waist.
Kame would have let go if he could, but he really isn’t planning on dying anytime soon, so he settles for clawing as much as possible at Ueda’s waist. Perhaps he might just leave several fingernail marks as payback.
“How do you even know where I live?” Ueda half shouts over the roar of the motorcycle engine.
“Who do you think I am?” Ueda shouts back. “I have my sources!”
Kame gnashes his teeth, and he tells Ueda to kindly piss off, but not before making him swear never to tell anyone about it. Kame still very much likes his job, and the last thing he needs is for someone to pimp out information that would no doubt lead to his manager flipping the universe and Johnny to kill him and perhaps stash his body in his closet forever. Kame isn’t really that keen on sitting in a dark hole forever along with all the little horrors that dwell in the depths of Johnny Kitagawa’s closet.
When they arrive at a complex of old shophouses, Ryuu kills the engine and throws Kame’s hands off his waist aggressively.
“You ungrateful little-” he hisses, massaging his hips.
Kame laughs for the first time that day as he slips off the bike, removing his helmet and shoving it at Ueda.
“Payback,” he says, shaking his coppery hair free from being plastered to his head. Ueda is staring at him strangely as he does this.
“You really do look like a girl,” he finally says, and Kame feels like hitting him.
“I never really thought about it before, but you’ve always looked like a girl, from the billboards and shit, but now only more so.”
His tone is not mocking, but genuinely curious and strangely gentle.
Kame doesn’t say anything. All he does is mutter a quiet and uncertain thanks and turns away from Ueda to look at the place.
“Where is this?”
“My gym,” Ueda says nonchalantly as he locks his bike in place. “C’mon. I want to show you.”
Kame follows Ueda down a flight of narrow steps, intrigued.
“You box? Are you any good at it?” Kame asks, laughing.
“Please, I could crack your skull open without even trying.”
The gym is lit by a single naked light bulb hanging from the centre of the room. Most of the space is taken up by a large boxing ring and the rest by a group of worn lockers, several benches, and a water fountain. It is bitingly cold, and Kame shivers.
He is slightly surprised by the state of the gym. It just doesn’t seem like Ueda’s style to go for such a dilapidated place.
“I own the place actually,” Ueda says, shrugging, “Bought it from some guy. It was the best place they had that was within price range.”
Kame approaches Ueda, confused.
“Why? I mean, don’t you already have a job?”
Ueda laughs humourlessly.
“I’ve always loved boxing,” he says quietly, “It’s like a release. Something that I can do and am good at, other than fucking that is.”
The conversation taking a more serious turn, Kame wraps his arms tighter around himself, trying to bury his body into the soft fabric of his turtleneck. He doesn’t know why Ueda is saying this. He doesn’t fucking know why Ueda asked him out and then brought him here. There is no logic and it makes no sense.
“Hey, Kame?”
Kame hums in response, and Ueda meets his gaze. The smouldering look forces a blush to rise to his cheeks. It doesn’t help that the room is ridiculously cold (it’s still winter goddammit) and Ueda - the ass - suddenly reaches up and caresses the side of Kame’s face.
His touch is gentle and strangely warm.
“Do you like me?”
It takes awhile for the situation to register, but when it does, Kame backs away hastily, drawing away from Ueda.
“W-What-”
“Are you fucking retarded? I asked if you liked me.”
Ueda reaches out to grab Kame’s wrist. And the smaller man gasps. Damn it all, but his writs feels to small and fragile in Ueda’s larger, more calloused hand.
“I-I,” Kame tries, “I mean, I don’t- I do, I mean. I can’t-”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to answer now. But you have to a least admit that you feel something for me. Don’t lie, Kame, or I might just murder you right here.”
Kame swallows roughly.
“Y- Yes,” he finally whispers, “I do.”
Ueda stares at him hard, trying to detect a lie. But then, his face bursts out in the brightest smile ever, and Kame thinks he might melt. Ueda much, much nicer now, although his sadistic personality doesn’t let up, Kame can see that the man cares a lot more for him, but he doesn’t feel stifled.
“Why did you bring me out here, Ueda?” Kame asks quietly, after a few seconds of silence.
Ueda doesn’t answer at once.
“I’m quitting my job,” he says simply, “I’m planing to open gym and try to recruit students. I figure that I rather not spend the rest of my life trying to get STDs.”
Kame blinks.
“But… Isn’t your boss going to flip?”
“Fuck him,” Ueda says with a dismissive flick of his wrist, “I’d rather spend my time with you.”
…
…
“What?”
This time, Ueda groans loud and long.
“You are really dense, Idiot-Kame. Am I not putting out enough signals? What the heck is wrong with you?”
“NO! No, it’s not that, but- Jin-”
“Break it off with him,” Ueda says flatly, “You neither love him nor care for him. So break it off. Just… try to be with me, Kame. I’m not asking for a commitment or whatever, but… d’you suppose you could at least try?”
The cold room is silent expect for soft breathing.
The frost hangs in the air like soft icicles, and Kame can see his breath. He is so close to Ueda that he can feel the other man’s body heat, but not close enough to touch.
Kame’s words cut through the cold quiet like a blade.
“I’ll break up with Jin.”
The unspoken words linger, and Ueda can hear them loud and clear.
I’ll do it for you.
Kame knows he’s sacrificing security and stability, but if it’s Ueda, he doesn’t really mind at all.
///
???
January 1st 2015
??? hours
///
Ueda can’t remember how many days it has been since that conversation, but he hasn’t seen Kame in awhile.
The news informed that Akanishi Jin had arrived at Japan late last night.
No matter how many times he tries to call Kame, the man does not pick up, and this worries Ueda. He isn’t sure when exactly he started to fall for the idol. Perhaps it was somewhere in between their ‘dates’, texts, and calls, but he does know that he cannot let Kame run back to Akanishi.
Ueda isn’t sure what time it is now, but it is fucking late, probably after lunchtime. Kame is still not picking up, so Ueda debates on whether to just drive up to his apartment and shake the daylights out of the man.
Sighing, he plops down on his ratty couch and switches on the television. Ueda plans on just leaving it on some random channel and the just stewing in the rotten program until Kame calls him back.
But the minutes he flips on the channel, Ueda’s half-lidded eyes are blown wide.
Grabbing the remote, he increases the volume of the TV, his eyes glued to the small screen.
‘SINGER SONGWRITER, AKANISHI JIN CAUGHT CHEATING ON IDOL KAMENASHI KAZUYA WHILE ON TOUR!’
The flashing headline makes his head spin.
The news program continues on with clips of Kame walking out of a building with another man trailing a ways behind. Ueda can only assume that it is Akanishi.
What makes him balk is the sea of reporters and fans that flood the front of the building and crowd around Kame, poking and prodding microphones at his face, completely ignoring the repeated ‘no comment’ that Kame gives them as a reply.
Ueda flips to the next channel.
It is also broadcasting the same scandal, but this time, it is showing an aerial shot of Kame’s house, surrounded by reporters and paparazzi, some climbing trees to get a good look into the idol’s home, and some trying to open the windows by force.
Ueda feels his gut burn with hate and irritation. How dared they do this to Kame?
The next channel is the same, but with close up shots of Kame’s face.
Ueda feels his heart clench painfully at the sight of Kame’s pale and pallid face as the idol tries to swat the camera away.
Kame is out there while all those fucking vultures were trying to pick at his already shattered being.
Ueda gets to his feet, determined to beat up anyone to find out where the hell Kame is, but then there are several soft knocks at his door.
For some reason, he isn’t surprised when he sees Kame’s small form standing before him when he opens the door.
The smaller man has bags underneath his eyes and he looks as though he hasn’t slept in weeks. He looks so fragile that Ueda just can’t-
“Get in, you idiot,” he says gruffly, “I don’t want any douchebag paparazzo finding my place.”
Ueda shuts the door and locks and bolts it. Yanking shut the curtains as well, he makes sure that everything is covered before leading the dangerously thin Kame to the couch.
Kame sits there without a word, looking more dead than Ueda has ever seen.
“I’m not even going to ask how you found out where I lived,” Ueda sighs, scratching the back of his neck.
Kame doesn’t even blink.
Ueda swallows uncertainly.
“I heard,” he says.
As tactful as ever. God fucking dammit.
Kame smiles weakly at that.
“I know,” he says, “The whole of Japan knows. By the end of the day, the whole fucking world will know. This is a complete clusterfuck of a situation.”
Ueda is sure it hasn’t been a day since this scandal, and Kame looks like he just went over the deep end.
“Are you - I dunno - okay?”
Kame scoffs.
“What do you think?”
Ueda shrugs.
“You didn’t exactly love him, so-”
“… I’m not really sad or anything,” Kame interrupts, “I mean, I lost interest ages ago. It was mostly respect and understanding that I didn’t completely give in. I fucking gave the bastard face, Ueda.”
And Kame’s voice cracks.
Ueda is silent. He lets the shattered man continue.
“I wouldn’t have cared much if he just told me that he wanted to break up. I mean- It’s really more humiliation than anything. Do you know how many reporters were outside my apartment after that? I can’t go anywhere without being followed. I can’t fucking do this any-”
Ueda decides to shut Kame up with a kiss.
It is messy and they bump teeth more then once, but Ueda really doesn’t care because Kame is his now.
“I like you, Kame. I really do,” Ueda whispers, gathering Kame’s body into his arms and resting his head on one of his shoulders.
Kame however, merely grits his teeth and shoves Ueda down onto the floor. They land with a sharp thud and a tangle of limbs. Kame hovers over Ueda’s form with dark dilated eyes, his hard curling softly around his thin cheeks and alabaster skin. He bends low and whispers into the shell of Ueda’s ear.
“If you really do, then fuck me. Fuck me hard, and you’d better make it hurt.”
Ueda doesn’t need further prompting to comply.
Kame doesn’t know what the future holds, and all he knows is that Ueda will definitely need to quit his job now, and he himself will need to learn how to power through this Jin scandal without breaking and get is career back on track. But he is willing to try, because as long as Ueda is next to him, he’ll not stop trying.
FIN