[fanfic] The Seven Deadly Sins of Romance, Chapter 1 (Gravitation)
Title: The Seven Deadly Sins of Romance
Chapter One of Seven: Greed for Knowledge
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Tohma x Shuichi
Warnings: mild drug use
Rating: PG13 (it will go up)
Summary: They say curiosity killed the cat. Tohma's about to find out what that might entail.
Thanks to imayb1aja and kageotogi for beta-reading for me.
He reached the bar of the private balcony and ordered his first drink of the evening - a Coke with rum, double on the rum - then turned his gaze back to the stadium as concert goers started to pack in. Jade green eyes surveyed the expanding crowd before settling on the darkened stage, a light frown touching his features.
Once again, Bad Luck had surpassed all of his expectations. The band had exceeded everyone’s expectations, actually, and the trio showed no signs of stopping any time soon. K, Bad Luck’s manager, kept him informed of the band’s progress, from everything to sold-out concerts and the scheduling of more shows to accommodate the fans. Sakano, the band’s producer, had told him that Bad Luck’s sixth album had smashed all previous records for first day sales and that it was now on backorder for at least three months because of the high demand. Even people in places like America and England were starting to chomp at the bit for a tiny piece of Bad Luck. More specifically, everyone wanted a piece of the band’s lead singer, Shuichi Shindou.
“Seguchi-san, here is your drink,” the bartender murmured as he produced the alcoholic beverage and briefly interrupted the blond’s thoughts. “Might I say you look as dapper as ever, sir? What brings you here this evening?”
Tohma’s frown disappeared for a moment as he accepted the drink and regarded the bartender. The other man slightly resembled a certain vocalist that Tohma knew.
“Thank you,” he murmured, offering the server a brief smile and gesturing to the stage area. The young man smiled in understanding and bowed before he returned to his duties. Tohma’s frown returned as he gazed back to the darkened stage area.
He normally wouldn’t ventured this far from Tokyo. As the president of a large and very successful recording company, he usually didn’t travel to concerts as he had in the past, before Nittle Grasper had disbanded. If he did, it was to scout for new talent and very rarely anything more. That was how he had found Ask and Bad Luck . . . and Shuichi Shindou.
Tohma’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly. Shuichi Shindou.
The young vocalist held the world in his sway. As a businessman, Tohma knew a good thing when he saw it. Granted, he had not seen it that way the first time he’d witnessed Bad Luck perform live. At that time, the band had a rough, raw sound to it and Shindou had not displayed anything that would have caught Tohma’s attention as a producer.
Sakano had thought otherwise and Sakano . . . had been right. Bad Luck had pretty much become an overnight success. As the president of the band’s production company, Tohma liked that and wanted to hang on to Bad Luck for as long as possible. He especially wanted to hang on to Shuichi Shindou. The band would not be the success it was without the vocalist.
Shuichi held the world in his sway . . . but Tohma couldn’t truly figure out why. It wasn’t just the singer’s skills as a vocalist - Tohma knew that much. Ryuichi had great vocal talent as well, but the world hadn’t pawed after him the same way it now clamoured for Shuichi. There was some kind of charm about the vocalist, something that Tohma couldn’t identify, and it intrigued him.
No . . . he was more than intrigued. He was hungry, hungry for knowledge. He wanted to taste Shuichi for himself, to feel the vocalist the same way his brother-in-law, and to experience Shuichi in the same way as his fans . Just what was so special about Shuichi Shindou? Tohma had to know for himself or he wouldn’t ever be satisfied.
His hand went to the inner pocket of his leather jacket, his fingers lightly grasping the object he’d hidden there. He’d chosen this particular piece of clothing for a reason, other than it went well with his deep-blue vest jacket. Tohma had come here, on a mission of his own.
The din in the stadium grew louder and Tohma leaned back in his seat, sipping his drink. Bad Luck would be taking the stage in another hour or so. That meant he had the rest of the night, and the rest of the tour, to plan how he could satisfy his intense curiosity about the band’s lead singer.
In the meantime, he would continue to watch, and to wait. He did have some time, after all.
* * *
Shuichi felt breathless and elated. He always did at the end of the final encore. The exhilaration from each performance lasted several hours for him and nothing could ever compare to the sights, the sounds, the smells . . . the rush he experienced each time. He had to take it all in, as much as he could and for as long as he possibly could. He felt alive while on stage and singing his heart out for his fans. The only other time he felt this way was when Eiri held him close after intense love-making sessions. Moments like that were precious to Shuichi and he wanted to savour them as long as possible.
However, the thrill of performing had to end at some point, or, at least, it had to be reined in. Shuichi knew that he couldn’t be on the stage forever. For one, he wouldn’t be able to spend any time with Eiri if he was. There was also his voice and his health to take into consideration. He knew he could sing for hours on end. He had done so on many occasions when he’d been in high school, however, being a professional singer now meant he had to take better care of himself - especially his voice. Plus, he was pretty sure that Hiro and Suguru would not appreciate constantly performing until the break of dawn. The two of them had a strange way of keeping him focused. For that, he was grateful.
With a final bow and a word of thanks to the audience, the lights dimmed and Shuichi followed Hiro and Suguru off the stage. K met the three of them backstage, bottles of water in hand. The American had a rather large grin on his face as they took the drinks and opened them. A stagehand quickly handed the band some towels before disappearing to do whatever, but Shuichi paid no attention. The singer’s focus was on K and that smirk.
Shuichi knew that expression. He knew it very well. K always had that look when he had “big news” and happened to be very excited about whatever he had to say. Bad Luck may not like the news, but then it hardly ever mattered - not when K packed enough of an arsenal to start an army.
“Good show!” the blond-haired man boomed. “That’s the best audience reaction yet! You’ve outdone yourselves - especially you, Shuichi. Even Seguchi-san was impressed.”
“Seguchi-san is here?!”
His jaw dropped and Shuichi felt a slight chill steal over him. Tohma Seguchi rarely ever traveled to see Bad Luck in concert anymore. N-G kept the former Grasper extremely busy, even when Bad Luck had home shows to perform. It had suited the vocalist just fine. As a rule, he and Seguchi tolerated each other but that was it. They’d never get along, not when their source of contention happened to be the only person they truly had in common: Eiri.
And the novelist wasn’t there. As far as Shuichi knew, Eiri had recently gone on a book tour to support his latest offering, The Seven Sins of Passion, and was on the opposite side of Japan. In Nagasaki, he believed and Bad Luck was in Asahikawa. It made no sense for Tohma Seguchi to be at a Bad Luck concert, not when Eiri wasn’t present. The president’s presence there had him more than a bit worried.
“. . . he flew all the way here,” K was saying, snapping Shuichi back to reality. “He’d been reading the reviews about the shows . . .”
“So he came to see how we’re doing for himself,” Suguru snorted. “I’m sure he could have waited for us to return to Tokyo. Seeing us live isn’t exactly a top priority for him.”
K merely shrugged at that as he led them to their dressing rooms. They paused for a moment in the corridor, their eyes landing on the American. The older man still had that huge grin on his face.
‘K must be pleased by Seguchi-san’s appearance, or that it says something for the president to be here.’ Shuichi wasn’t sure it was a good thing, though. He really wasn’t.
“You have an hour before we leave,” K said, as if he hadn’t heard Suguru’s words. “Make sure you’re ready. Got it?”
Shuichi, Hiro, and Suguru nodded, but they all frowning. Apparently, his bandmates weren’t happy that Tohma Seguchi had shown up. Suguru had been right. The president could have waited until they were back in Tokyo to see Bad Luck perform live. It didn’t make sense for the man to have traveled across half of Japan to see them.
‘Oh well,’ Shuichi mentally shrugged, stepping into his dressing room. He closed the door behind him. This wasn’t for him to worry about.
“Good evening, Shindou-san,” a smooth and decidedly familiar voice purred. Shuichi froze upon hearing it, his eyes widening.
Sitting in a chair, looking as immaculate as ever, was none other than Tohma Seguchi.
* * *
He had to admit, if only to himself, that Shuichi Shindou had talent. The vocalist also happened to be quite expressive. Tohma’s trained ear had caught every emotion the younger man poured into each song. It helped Tohma to somewhat understand why the world craved more Bad Luck and more of Shuichi Shindou.
The singer also happened to have an untapped sex appeal. Tohma saw it in the way the younger man moved about on stage and in the way he dressed. A black, sheer midriff with black, skintight leather pants with black, mock combat boots . . . it didn’t leave much to the imagination, really, but it was enough to spark all sorts of crazy thoughts. The blond seriously doubted Bad Luck’s vocalist realized just how sexy he could be.
Tohma had stayed for the entire show, moving backstage before the final encore. His new location afforded him a better, and rather tantalizing, view of Bad Luck’s vocalist. It also gave away to K and Sakano that he was there, but Tohma didn’t mind too much. As long as they didn’t see him disappear into Shindou’s room before the encore was over, he didn’t care if they approached him to talk. Which was exactly what K-san had done.
Like most of the crew assembled, Bad Luck’s manager had been surprised to see him there. The American hid his shock well enough and quickly, but Tohma still had caught it.
They talked for a brief moment - Tohma merely commenting on how impressive Bad Luck’s performance was. Heat had begun to pool in the president’s nether regions just from watching Shindou dance about on stage. Fortunately, Tohma possessed more than enough self-control to not give that away, and K walked away a few moments later. Then Tohma disappeared down the main corridor, making sure no one saw him leave. One hand went back to his inner jacket pocket and grasped the long, cylindrical object nestled there.
He had come to the concert somewhat prepared. He knew that his brother-in-law had decided not to go on tour with Bad Luck this time around and that Eiri happened to be on the other side of Japan, in Nagasaki. The novelist’s publishing company had sent the temperamental author on a last minute book tour. There had been no way for it to coincide with Bad Luck’s schedule. The novelist’s tour gave Tohma the perfect opportunity to see Shindou without Eiri’s interference. He only had to worry about K, Sakano-san, and Bad Luck’s guitarist, Nakano-san, interrupting him. Tohma knew that Suguru wouldn’t bother to drop in on the vocalist as the younger man tended to worry about his keyboards. Suguru would be busy making sure that they were taken care of properly, much like Tohma had when he had been performing.
‘Not that it will matter at all,’ Tohma smirked to himself, slipping into Shindou’s dressing room. ‘I’ll still plenty of time to find out what I want to know. Everyone will be busy with what they need to get done. It works out perfectly.’
He knew the band’s routine. Sakano had often complained about it to him, hoping that the president would do something to alleviate the band’s stress levels.
After the show, K would give the musicians bottled water then walk the young men to their dressing rooms. A pep talk often ensued as the American escorted the band to their designated areas. Then he’d give them a short amount of time to gather their things, anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour, before herding them onto the tour bus. The amount of time they were given depended on where the band had to be next.
Tonight, Bad Luck would have an hour to pack up their stuff. The next show was tomorrow but at a venue halfway between Asahikawa and Wakkanai. It wouldn’t take the tour bus long to get to the next venue and the band would be in a hotel before sunrise. All Tohma had to do was wait for Shindou to enter his dressing room. Then he could begin.
‘Soon. Very soon. I’ll find out for myself what Eiri sees in him.’
Tohma settled on the dressing room chair to wait. He wouldn’t have to wait too much longer for the singer to arrive. He could tell that the music had stopped. Sure enough, several minutes later, he heard voices out in the hallway. Then the door creaked open to admit the one Tohma had traveled there to see personally: Shuichi Shindou.
Once the door clicked shut, he spoke. He kept his voice deceptively smooth and soft. Tohma only wanted to surprise the singer and nothing more. His plans would be thwarted if half of the tour crew knew he was still there.
“Good evening, Shindou-san,” Tohma murmured. The vocalist paused and his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, giving the blond a small, perverse amount of pleasure. It was exactly what he had wanted to see and had expected.
“Se-Seguchi-san . . .”
Immediately, the singer bowed but obviously remained wary. Tohma couldn’t blame him. Since Eiri’s hospitalization for a bleeding ulcer, Tohma had been less than cordial towards Shindou. He tolerated the younger man, mostly because of his brother-in-law. Otherwise, Tohma had made it known as to what he thought of Bad Luck’s vocalist and of Shindou’s influence on Eiri.
However, he wasn’t about to let that deter him. He had come to the arena to satisfy his curiosity about Shindou, to find out what made the younger man stand out from dozens of others. Tohma was not one to let an opportunity as golden as this pass him by. He smiled brightly and then rose to his feet.
“Relax, Shindou-san,” he said in an assuring tone. “I’m not here to start a fight. I merely came to talk to you.”
“Oh . . . um, I really don’t have a lot of time. I . . .”
“I understand,” Tohma murmured as he nodded, his smile never fading. “I heard K-san. Go ahead. Do what you need to get done. Once you’re finished, we can talk as you pack.”
“Okay . . .”
Tentatively, Shindou moved towards him and began to gather all of his belongings. Tohma observed the way the young man moved . . . and the fact that the vocalist’s bottle of water sat mere inches from Tohma’s hand.
“Have you talked to Eiri?” Shindou inquired. The blond heard a hint of concern in the voice that spoke.
“This morning,” he replied, discreetly pulling out the slender vial with the sedative. “He’s fine . . . as I’m sure he told you earlier when you spoke with him.”
A nod confirmed his guess. Shindou had talked with his brother-in-law, possibly before the concert had even started. Why the younger man would be worried, Tohma didn’t know for certain.
He’d figure it out later, though. He was running out of time to slip the younger man the sedative he’d concealed within his jacket pocket. A quick glance at his watch told him that K would be there in fifty minutes to retrieve the singer. He had to get the sleeping aid into Shindou and soon. Fortunately, the younger man gave him the chance he needed. After he had answered Shindou’s question, the singer excused himself and disappeared into another part of the dressing room. With the vocalist out of sight, Tohma picked up the water bottle and unscrewed the cap. He kept an eye on the door Shindou had gone through as he poured the sedative into the fluid. Once every drop of the drug had been dispensed, he put the water back and waited for the singer to return.
A few minutes later, the younger man re-emerged - showered and changed - and set about finishing his packing. He also polished off the water in the process, and Tohma continued to observe the unusually silent singer. The blond delighted in the fact that, though Shindou barely said anything to him, the vocalist’s energetic behaviour had not dissipated in the slightest. It was something he’d been counting on when he chose the sedative and purchased it. The drug would be through Shindou’s system in no time and then he could begin.
Sure enough, roughly fifteen minutes later, Shindou began to slow down and stagger about. A yawn escaped the younger man as well. Tohma decided that was his cue. Quietly, he approached the singer from behind.
“Shindou-san . . .”
“Huh?”
The vocalist spun around and started to topple forward. Tohma reached out to catch him, almost losing his balance the moment the younger man was in his arms.
“Sorry about that,” the dark-haired youth murmured, blinking. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me . . . never happened before . . .”
“You’re exhausted,” Tohma commented softly, keeping a firm hold on the lithe form pressing against him. “Performing does that to a person. Perhaps you should lay down on the couch . . .”
“Mmm . . .” Shindou nodded and began to pull away from him.
Not quite ready to let go of the singer just yet - his experiment had just begun - Tohma led Shindou to the dressing room’s couch. The vocalist went, quiet and compliant.
Once the younger man sat down, the blond hesitated. He was treading into dangerous territory and he knew it. His brother-in-law had become rather possessive of the vocalist, to the point where Eiri would physically harm whoever touched or threatened Shindou. Tatsuha had learned that the hard way(1). If Eiri found about this . . .
‘He won’t,’ a little voice assured him. ‘Shindou-san is vulnerable right now and very open to suggestion.’
‘True,’ he conceded, smirking a little. One hand reached out to cup one of the vocalist’s cheeks. ‘Very true.’
“Seguchi-san?”
Sleep-filled, amethyst eyes gazed at him, regarding Tohma with confusion. Tohma smiled but did not remove his hand.
“It’s all right, Shindou-san,” he soothed. “You’ll be okay. Just go to sleep. You’ve had a very long day. It’s time to rest . . . and to dream.”
The vocalist merely nodded at that, his eyes drifting shut once more. Tohma then took the time to study his one-time rival.
Shindou did have a rather young appearance, he decided. If he hadn’t known better, Tohma would have thought the vocalist to be younger than his age of twenty-three. The singer also had very expressive eyes - when they were opened. It made it easy for Tohma to read his brother-in-law’s lover.
As he observed that sleeping form, his fingers traced their way along smooth skin, noting its soft firmness. It felt like that of an infant to Tohma, as he idly recalled babysitting a six-month-old Suguru many years before. Perhaps the soft skin and youthful expression were parts of Shindou’s appeal to Eiri?
‘No . . . there’s more to it than that . . . There has to be . . .’
However, before he could continue his observations, someone knocked on the dressing room door and called out the vocalist’s name. It sounded like the guitarist, and the blond knew that there would be no deterring the man.
Scowling, Tohma rose to his feet and disappeared into the other room as Shindou had earlier. He’d have to find another way to obtain the knowledge that he sought.
The question was how . . . and when.
- -
1 - From manga volume 11, where Tatsuha “kidnaps” Eiri and comments about how he was hired to put a “little scare” into Shuichi by some “gaijin.” He even jokes a little that Shuichi isn’t the kind to die so easily. Upset, Eiri grabs a hold of the steering wheel and tells his younger brother that, if anything were to happen to Shuichi, he’d never forgive him.
Chapter One of Seven: Greed for Knowledge
Fandom: Gravitation
Pairing: Tohma x Shuichi
Warnings: mild drug use
Rating: PG13 (it will go up)
Summary: They say curiosity killed the cat. Tohma's about to find out what that might entail.
Thanks to imayb1aja and kageotogi for beta-reading for me.
He reached the bar of the private balcony and ordered his first drink of the evening - a Coke with rum, double on the rum - then turned his gaze back to the stadium as concert goers started to pack in. Jade green eyes surveyed the expanding crowd before settling on the darkened stage, a light frown touching his features.
Once again, Bad Luck had surpassed all of his expectations. The band had exceeded everyone’s expectations, actually, and the trio showed no signs of stopping any time soon. K, Bad Luck’s manager, kept him informed of the band’s progress, from everything to sold-out concerts and the scheduling of more shows to accommodate the fans. Sakano, the band’s producer, had told him that Bad Luck’s sixth album had smashed all previous records for first day sales and that it was now on backorder for at least three months because of the high demand. Even people in places like America and England were starting to chomp at the bit for a tiny piece of Bad Luck. More specifically, everyone wanted a piece of the band’s lead singer, Shuichi Shindou.
“Seguchi-san, here is your drink,” the bartender murmured as he produced the alcoholic beverage and briefly interrupted the blond’s thoughts. “Might I say you look as dapper as ever, sir? What brings you here this evening?”
Tohma’s frown disappeared for a moment as he accepted the drink and regarded the bartender. The other man slightly resembled a certain vocalist that Tohma knew.
“Thank you,” he murmured, offering the server a brief smile and gesturing to the stage area. The young man smiled in understanding and bowed before he returned to his duties. Tohma’s frown returned as he gazed back to the darkened stage area.
He normally wouldn’t ventured this far from Tokyo. As the president of a large and very successful recording company, he usually didn’t travel to concerts as he had in the past, before Nittle Grasper had disbanded. If he did, it was to scout for new talent and very rarely anything more. That was how he had found Ask and Bad Luck . . . and Shuichi Shindou.
Tohma’s frown deepened, his eyes narrowing slightly. Shuichi Shindou.
The young vocalist held the world in his sway. As a businessman, Tohma knew a good thing when he saw it. Granted, he had not seen it that way the first time he’d witnessed Bad Luck perform live. At that time, the band had a rough, raw sound to it and Shindou had not displayed anything that would have caught Tohma’s attention as a producer.
Sakano had thought otherwise and Sakano . . . had been right. Bad Luck had pretty much become an overnight success. As the president of the band’s production company, Tohma liked that and wanted to hang on to Bad Luck for as long as possible. He especially wanted to hang on to Shuichi Shindou. The band would not be the success it was without the vocalist.
Shuichi held the world in his sway . . . but Tohma couldn’t truly figure out why. It wasn’t just the singer’s skills as a vocalist - Tohma knew that much. Ryuichi had great vocal talent as well, but the world hadn’t pawed after him the same way it now clamoured for Shuichi. There was some kind of charm about the vocalist, something that Tohma couldn’t identify, and it intrigued him.
No . . . he was more than intrigued. He was hungry, hungry for knowledge. He wanted to taste Shuichi for himself, to feel the vocalist the same way his brother-in-law, and to experience Shuichi in the same way as his fans . Just what was so special about Shuichi Shindou? Tohma had to know for himself or he wouldn’t ever be satisfied.
His hand went to the inner pocket of his leather jacket, his fingers lightly grasping the object he’d hidden there. He’d chosen this particular piece of clothing for a reason, other than it went well with his deep-blue vest jacket. Tohma had come here, on a mission of his own.
The din in the stadium grew louder and Tohma leaned back in his seat, sipping his drink. Bad Luck would be taking the stage in another hour or so. That meant he had the rest of the night, and the rest of the tour, to plan how he could satisfy his intense curiosity about the band’s lead singer.
In the meantime, he would continue to watch, and to wait. He did have some time, after all.
* * *
Shuichi felt breathless and elated. He always did at the end of the final encore. The exhilaration from each performance lasted several hours for him and nothing could ever compare to the sights, the sounds, the smells . . . the rush he experienced each time. He had to take it all in, as much as he could and for as long as he possibly could. He felt alive while on stage and singing his heart out for his fans. The only other time he felt this way was when Eiri held him close after intense love-making sessions. Moments like that were precious to Shuichi and he wanted to savour them as long as possible.
However, the thrill of performing had to end at some point, or, at least, it had to be reined in. Shuichi knew that he couldn’t be on the stage forever. For one, he wouldn’t be able to spend any time with Eiri if he was. There was also his voice and his health to take into consideration. He knew he could sing for hours on end. He had done so on many occasions when he’d been in high school, however, being a professional singer now meant he had to take better care of himself - especially his voice. Plus, he was pretty sure that Hiro and Suguru would not appreciate constantly performing until the break of dawn. The two of them had a strange way of keeping him focused. For that, he was grateful.
With a final bow and a word of thanks to the audience, the lights dimmed and Shuichi followed Hiro and Suguru off the stage. K met the three of them backstage, bottles of water in hand. The American had a rather large grin on his face as they took the drinks and opened them. A stagehand quickly handed the band some towels before disappearing to do whatever, but Shuichi paid no attention. The singer’s focus was on K and that smirk.
Shuichi knew that expression. He knew it very well. K always had that look when he had “big news” and happened to be very excited about whatever he had to say. Bad Luck may not like the news, but then it hardly ever mattered - not when K packed enough of an arsenal to start an army.
“Good show!” the blond-haired man boomed. “That’s the best audience reaction yet! You’ve outdone yourselves - especially you, Shuichi. Even Seguchi-san was impressed.”
“Seguchi-san is here?!”
His jaw dropped and Shuichi felt a slight chill steal over him. Tohma Seguchi rarely ever traveled to see Bad Luck in concert anymore. N-G kept the former Grasper extremely busy, even when Bad Luck had home shows to perform. It had suited the vocalist just fine. As a rule, he and Seguchi tolerated each other but that was it. They’d never get along, not when their source of contention happened to be the only person they truly had in common: Eiri.
And the novelist wasn’t there. As far as Shuichi knew, Eiri had recently gone on a book tour to support his latest offering, The Seven Sins of Passion, and was on the opposite side of Japan. In Nagasaki, he believed and Bad Luck was in Asahikawa. It made no sense for Tohma Seguchi to be at a Bad Luck concert, not when Eiri wasn’t present. The president’s presence there had him more than a bit worried.
“. . . he flew all the way here,” K was saying, snapping Shuichi back to reality. “He’d been reading the reviews about the shows . . .”
“So he came to see how we’re doing for himself,” Suguru snorted. “I’m sure he could have waited for us to return to Tokyo. Seeing us live isn’t exactly a top priority for him.”
K merely shrugged at that as he led them to their dressing rooms. They paused for a moment in the corridor, their eyes landing on the American. The older man still had that huge grin on his face.
‘K must be pleased by Seguchi-san’s appearance, or that it says something for the president to be here.’ Shuichi wasn’t sure it was a good thing, though. He really wasn’t.
“You have an hour before we leave,” K said, as if he hadn’t heard Suguru’s words. “Make sure you’re ready. Got it?”
Shuichi, Hiro, and Suguru nodded, but they all frowning. Apparently, his bandmates weren’t happy that Tohma Seguchi had shown up. Suguru had been right. The president could have waited until they were back in Tokyo to see Bad Luck perform live. It didn’t make sense for the man to have traveled across half of Japan to see them.
‘Oh well,’ Shuichi mentally shrugged, stepping into his dressing room. He closed the door behind him. This wasn’t for him to worry about.
“Good evening, Shindou-san,” a smooth and decidedly familiar voice purred. Shuichi froze upon hearing it, his eyes widening.
Sitting in a chair, looking as immaculate as ever, was none other than Tohma Seguchi.
* * *
He had to admit, if only to himself, that Shuichi Shindou had talent. The vocalist also happened to be quite expressive. Tohma’s trained ear had caught every emotion the younger man poured into each song. It helped Tohma to somewhat understand why the world craved more Bad Luck and more of Shuichi Shindou.
The singer also happened to have an untapped sex appeal. Tohma saw it in the way the younger man moved about on stage and in the way he dressed. A black, sheer midriff with black, skintight leather pants with black, mock combat boots . . . it didn’t leave much to the imagination, really, but it was enough to spark all sorts of crazy thoughts. The blond seriously doubted Bad Luck’s vocalist realized just how sexy he could be.
Tohma had stayed for the entire show, moving backstage before the final encore. His new location afforded him a better, and rather tantalizing, view of Bad Luck’s vocalist. It also gave away to K and Sakano that he was there, but Tohma didn’t mind too much. As long as they didn’t see him disappear into Shindou’s room before the encore was over, he didn’t care if they approached him to talk. Which was exactly what K-san had done.
Like most of the crew assembled, Bad Luck’s manager had been surprised to see him there. The American hid his shock well enough and quickly, but Tohma still had caught it.
They talked for a brief moment - Tohma merely commenting on how impressive Bad Luck’s performance was. Heat had begun to pool in the president’s nether regions just from watching Shindou dance about on stage. Fortunately, Tohma possessed more than enough self-control to not give that away, and K walked away a few moments later. Then Tohma disappeared down the main corridor, making sure no one saw him leave. One hand went back to his inner jacket pocket and grasped the long, cylindrical object nestled there.
He had come to the concert somewhat prepared. He knew that his brother-in-law had decided not to go on tour with Bad Luck this time around and that Eiri happened to be on the other side of Japan, in Nagasaki. The novelist’s publishing company had sent the temperamental author on a last minute book tour. There had been no way for it to coincide with Bad Luck’s schedule. The novelist’s tour gave Tohma the perfect opportunity to see Shindou without Eiri’s interference. He only had to worry about K, Sakano-san, and Bad Luck’s guitarist, Nakano-san, interrupting him. Tohma knew that Suguru wouldn’t bother to drop in on the vocalist as the younger man tended to worry about his keyboards. Suguru would be busy making sure that they were taken care of properly, much like Tohma had when he had been performing.
‘Not that it will matter at all,’ Tohma smirked to himself, slipping into Shindou’s dressing room. ‘I’ll still plenty of time to find out what I want to know. Everyone will be busy with what they need to get done. It works out perfectly.’
He knew the band’s routine. Sakano had often complained about it to him, hoping that the president would do something to alleviate the band’s stress levels.
After the show, K would give the musicians bottled water then walk the young men to their dressing rooms. A pep talk often ensued as the American escorted the band to their designated areas. Then he’d give them a short amount of time to gather their things, anywhere from fifteen minutes to an hour, before herding them onto the tour bus. The amount of time they were given depended on where the band had to be next.
Tonight, Bad Luck would have an hour to pack up their stuff. The next show was tomorrow but at a venue halfway between Asahikawa and Wakkanai. It wouldn’t take the tour bus long to get to the next venue and the band would be in a hotel before sunrise. All Tohma had to do was wait for Shindou to enter his dressing room. Then he could begin.
‘Soon. Very soon. I’ll find out for myself what Eiri sees in him.’
Tohma settled on the dressing room chair to wait. He wouldn’t have to wait too much longer for the singer to arrive. He could tell that the music had stopped. Sure enough, several minutes later, he heard voices out in the hallway. Then the door creaked open to admit the one Tohma had traveled there to see personally: Shuichi Shindou.
Once the door clicked shut, he spoke. He kept his voice deceptively smooth and soft. Tohma only wanted to surprise the singer and nothing more. His plans would be thwarted if half of the tour crew knew he was still there.
“Good evening, Shindou-san,” Tohma murmured. The vocalist paused and his eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets, giving the blond a small, perverse amount of pleasure. It was exactly what he had wanted to see and had expected.
“Se-Seguchi-san . . .”
Immediately, the singer bowed but obviously remained wary. Tohma couldn’t blame him. Since Eiri’s hospitalization for a bleeding ulcer, Tohma had been less than cordial towards Shindou. He tolerated the younger man, mostly because of his brother-in-law. Otherwise, Tohma had made it known as to what he thought of Bad Luck’s vocalist and of Shindou’s influence on Eiri.
However, he wasn’t about to let that deter him. He had come to the arena to satisfy his curiosity about Shindou, to find out what made the younger man stand out from dozens of others. Tohma was not one to let an opportunity as golden as this pass him by. He smiled brightly and then rose to his feet.
“Relax, Shindou-san,” he said in an assuring tone. “I’m not here to start a fight. I merely came to talk to you.”
“Oh . . . um, I really don’t have a lot of time. I . . .”
“I understand,” Tohma murmured as he nodded, his smile never fading. “I heard K-san. Go ahead. Do what you need to get done. Once you’re finished, we can talk as you pack.”
“Okay . . .”
Tentatively, Shindou moved towards him and began to gather all of his belongings. Tohma observed the way the young man moved . . . and the fact that the vocalist’s bottle of water sat mere inches from Tohma’s hand.
“Have you talked to Eiri?” Shindou inquired. The blond heard a hint of concern in the voice that spoke.
“This morning,” he replied, discreetly pulling out the slender vial with the sedative. “He’s fine . . . as I’m sure he told you earlier when you spoke with him.”
A nod confirmed his guess. Shindou had talked with his brother-in-law, possibly before the concert had even started. Why the younger man would be worried, Tohma didn’t know for certain.
He’d figure it out later, though. He was running out of time to slip the younger man the sedative he’d concealed within his jacket pocket. A quick glance at his watch told him that K would be there in fifty minutes to retrieve the singer. He had to get the sleeping aid into Shindou and soon. Fortunately, the younger man gave him the chance he needed. After he had answered Shindou’s question, the singer excused himself and disappeared into another part of the dressing room. With the vocalist out of sight, Tohma picked up the water bottle and unscrewed the cap. He kept an eye on the door Shindou had gone through as he poured the sedative into the fluid. Once every drop of the drug had been dispensed, he put the water back and waited for the singer to return.
A few minutes later, the younger man re-emerged - showered and changed - and set about finishing his packing. He also polished off the water in the process, and Tohma continued to observe the unusually silent singer. The blond delighted in the fact that, though Shindou barely said anything to him, the vocalist’s energetic behaviour had not dissipated in the slightest. It was something he’d been counting on when he chose the sedative and purchased it. The drug would be through Shindou’s system in no time and then he could begin.
Sure enough, roughly fifteen minutes later, Shindou began to slow down and stagger about. A yawn escaped the younger man as well. Tohma decided that was his cue. Quietly, he approached the singer from behind.
“Shindou-san . . .”
“Huh?”
The vocalist spun around and started to topple forward. Tohma reached out to catch him, almost losing his balance the moment the younger man was in his arms.
“Sorry about that,” the dark-haired youth murmured, blinking. “Don’t know what’s wrong with me . . . never happened before . . .”
“You’re exhausted,” Tohma commented softly, keeping a firm hold on the lithe form pressing against him. “Performing does that to a person. Perhaps you should lay down on the couch . . .”
“Mmm . . .” Shindou nodded and began to pull away from him.
Not quite ready to let go of the singer just yet - his experiment had just begun - Tohma led Shindou to the dressing room’s couch. The vocalist went, quiet and compliant.
Once the younger man sat down, the blond hesitated. He was treading into dangerous territory and he knew it. His brother-in-law had become rather possessive of the vocalist, to the point where Eiri would physically harm whoever touched or threatened Shindou. Tatsuha had learned that the hard way(1). If Eiri found about this . . .
‘He won’t,’ a little voice assured him. ‘Shindou-san is vulnerable right now and very open to suggestion.’
‘True,’ he conceded, smirking a little. One hand reached out to cup one of the vocalist’s cheeks. ‘Very true.’
“Seguchi-san?”
Sleep-filled, amethyst eyes gazed at him, regarding Tohma with confusion. Tohma smiled but did not remove his hand.
“It’s all right, Shindou-san,” he soothed. “You’ll be okay. Just go to sleep. You’ve had a very long day. It’s time to rest . . . and to dream.”
The vocalist merely nodded at that, his eyes drifting shut once more. Tohma then took the time to study his one-time rival.
Shindou did have a rather young appearance, he decided. If he hadn’t known better, Tohma would have thought the vocalist to be younger than his age of twenty-three. The singer also had very expressive eyes - when they were opened. It made it easy for Tohma to read his brother-in-law’s lover.
As he observed that sleeping form, his fingers traced their way along smooth skin, noting its soft firmness. It felt like that of an infant to Tohma, as he idly recalled babysitting a six-month-old Suguru many years before. Perhaps the soft skin and youthful expression were parts of Shindou’s appeal to Eiri?
‘No . . . there’s more to it than that . . . There has to be . . .’
However, before he could continue his observations, someone knocked on the dressing room door and called out the vocalist’s name. It sounded like the guitarist, and the blond knew that there would be no deterring the man.
Scowling, Tohma rose to his feet and disappeared into the other room as Shindou had earlier. He’d have to find another way to obtain the knowledge that he sought.
The question was how . . . and when.
- -
1 - From manga volume 11, where Tatsuha “kidnaps” Eiri and comments about how he was hired to put a “little scare” into Shuichi by some “gaijin.” He even jokes a little that Shuichi isn’t the kind to die so easily. Upset, Eiri grabs a hold of the steering wheel and tells his younger brother that, if anything were to happen to Shuichi, he’d never forgive him.