Stealing Kisses; Lead - Akira/Keita
Title: Stealing Kisses
Author: dark_n_silence / racchannokotoba
Fandom: Lead
Pairing: Kagimoto Akira / Furuya Keita (sort of a bit one-sided)
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG
Summary: Akira's newly-acquired nighttime habit.
Word Count: 1066
Warnings: A tense change at the end. Trust me, it's intended.
Notes: I don't think the boys are still living together, but it's my story and I can write it how I want. Also, the ending is a bit vague, but I'm pretty sure you'll interpret it the way it was meant. :)
Akira has kissed Keita 26 times.
Only Keita doesn’t know.
It had started about a month ago, the kissing. Truth be told, it had been long before then that Akira had started liking Keita. But having feelings for your bandmate was a big no-no, so he attempted to hide them away, barely concealing them behind fanservice. A friendly hug here, a few seconds of hand-holding there, Akira let his natural playfulness mask his flirting. He rather liked the way things were-simple-and would be content to let them stay that way.
But one night, an opportunity presented itself that Akira could just not ignore.
It was late. Everyone else was asleep, trying to get a few hours’ rest before the early dance rehearsal the next morning. Only Akira was still up, watching some episode of some show that he was only half paying attention to. He liked this time of night, when his bandmates had all gone to bed and he could be alone. Not that he disliked any of his bandmates-quite the opposite for one in particular-but sometimes a guy just needed some time to himself to think. And there was only one person on Akira’s mind that night.
He sighed. It was probably best to get some sleep so he wouldn’t be dead tomorrow, and not stay up all night thinking about Keita and how he wished he could tell him the truth, or fantasize about Keita saying that he loved him too and how they would be together forever… yea, time for bed, Akkun.
He headed towards his room. How cruel fate could be, that he shared a room with the object of his affections. Of course, that had all been decided before said affections had started, and Akira didn’t want to raise suspicions by suddenly saying he wanted to room with Hiroki or Shinya instead. And so every night, Akira would spend a few minutes watching Keita sleep, imprinting the image on his memory so that he could dream of it while he slept. And in the morning, when the alarm clock or Hiroki had woken him up, he would lock that image away, and head out for hours of interviews or rehearsals or PV shootings, whatever that day had in store for them. And when the stress of the day had worn them out and had them dragging themselves back to their apartment at night, Akira would always discreetly check to make sure Keita was ok-was he hungry, or was that sneeze the beginning of a cold-before the older boy headed off to bed and Akira was left on his own to think.
And so the process repeated itself. Until that night.
That day, Keita had mentioned something about not feeling very well-a stomach virus, or something of the kind. Akira was, of course, worried, but Hiroki said that with a bit of medicine and some rest Keita should be fine. Regardless, Akira kept checking on him-so often, in fact, that Hiroki had practically banned him from entering the room until it was time for bed. Now Akira was free to check up on him one last time before he went to sleep.
He tiptoed across the room to Keita’s bed, intent on checking for fever, just in case. There was none, luckily, but Akira couldn’t seem to pull himself away from Keita just yet. He brushed stray hairs away from Keita’s forehead as he watched him sleep.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed-Seconds? Minutes?-but Akira was vaguely aware that with every inhale and exhale, his body was leaning just a little bit closer to Keita’s. He couldn’t control it, however, no matter how much he knew he should stop and back away. Almost before he knew what he was doing, Akira kissed Keita lightly on the lips and whispered, “Feel better soon, Keichan.”
Immediately, when he realized what he’d done, he straightened up and hurried into his own bed, fearful that Keita might wake up and catch him. He lay still for a few minutes, but Keita’s breath stayed slow and even, and Akira was confident that the other boy hadn’t noticed a thing.
And as he drifted off to sleep, he realized that he would have another memory to lock away in the morning. It would be his little secret, and he would take it to his grave.
The next night, however, his body seemed to be on auto-pilot again, for when it came time for him to go to bed, Akira spent a few minutes at Keita’s bedside, watching, before he bent down to kiss him again.
He froze, when Keita made a noise that seemed like he had woken up, but no, he just rolled over, and Akira let out a sigh of relief. That was two close-calls he’d had now, and he would have to have a strong talk with his body to let it know that they weren’t allowed to do that again. They would probably not get away with it for a third time.
But he did get away with it a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth. Every night for nearly a month, just before he went to bed, Akira would watch Keita sleep for a few minutes, and then kiss him good night. It was nearly routine now, written into his programming. It surprised Akira that he could really get away with this for so long, and it made him smile knowing that he could express his feelings without fear of rejection, but for how much longer could this continue? How much longer could he keep on stealing kisses before he accidentally woke Keita up and would have to explain?
Every night he told himself, this is the last time, but he had grown so accustomed to doing it that it almost seemed wrong somehow to suddenly stop. And really, how could he deny himself the one thing he truly wanted?
And so the process continues. Every night, just before bed, Akira kisses Keita good night, sometimes whispers ‘I love you’ into the quiet of the room, before slipping into his bed and dreaming dreams of one day being together.
But what Akira fails to notice is that every night, when he’s snuggled into his blankets and his breathing evens out and he’s drifting off into sleep, Keita smiles.
Comments highly appreciated. =^_^=
Author: dark_n_silence / racchannokotoba
Fandom: Lead
Pairing: Kagimoto Akira / Furuya Keita (sort of a bit one-sided)
Genre: Fluff
Rating: PG
Summary: Akira's newly-acquired nighttime habit.
Word Count: 1066
Warnings: A tense change at the end. Trust me, it's intended.
Notes: I don't think the boys are still living together, but it's my story and I can write it how I want. Also, the ending is a bit vague, but I'm pretty sure you'll interpret it the way it was meant. :)
Akira has kissed Keita 26 times.
Only Keita doesn’t know.
It had started about a month ago, the kissing. Truth be told, it had been long before then that Akira had started liking Keita. But having feelings for your bandmate was a big no-no, so he attempted to hide them away, barely concealing them behind fanservice. A friendly hug here, a few seconds of hand-holding there, Akira let his natural playfulness mask his flirting. He rather liked the way things were-simple-and would be content to let them stay that way.
But one night, an opportunity presented itself that Akira could just not ignore.
It was late. Everyone else was asleep, trying to get a few hours’ rest before the early dance rehearsal the next morning. Only Akira was still up, watching some episode of some show that he was only half paying attention to. He liked this time of night, when his bandmates had all gone to bed and he could be alone. Not that he disliked any of his bandmates-quite the opposite for one in particular-but sometimes a guy just needed some time to himself to think. And there was only one person on Akira’s mind that night.
He sighed. It was probably best to get some sleep so he wouldn’t be dead tomorrow, and not stay up all night thinking about Keita and how he wished he could tell him the truth, or fantasize about Keita saying that he loved him too and how they would be together forever… yea, time for bed, Akkun.
He headed towards his room. How cruel fate could be, that he shared a room with the object of his affections. Of course, that had all been decided before said affections had started, and Akira didn’t want to raise suspicions by suddenly saying he wanted to room with Hiroki or Shinya instead. And so every night, Akira would spend a few minutes watching Keita sleep, imprinting the image on his memory so that he could dream of it while he slept. And in the morning, when the alarm clock or Hiroki had woken him up, he would lock that image away, and head out for hours of interviews or rehearsals or PV shootings, whatever that day had in store for them. And when the stress of the day had worn them out and had them dragging themselves back to their apartment at night, Akira would always discreetly check to make sure Keita was ok-was he hungry, or was that sneeze the beginning of a cold-before the older boy headed off to bed and Akira was left on his own to think.
And so the process repeated itself. Until that night.
That day, Keita had mentioned something about not feeling very well-a stomach virus, or something of the kind. Akira was, of course, worried, but Hiroki said that with a bit of medicine and some rest Keita should be fine. Regardless, Akira kept checking on him-so often, in fact, that Hiroki had practically banned him from entering the room until it was time for bed. Now Akira was free to check up on him one last time before he went to sleep.
He tiptoed across the room to Keita’s bed, intent on checking for fever, just in case. There was none, luckily, but Akira couldn’t seem to pull himself away from Keita just yet. He brushed stray hairs away from Keita’s forehead as he watched him sleep.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed-Seconds? Minutes?-but Akira was vaguely aware that with every inhale and exhale, his body was leaning just a little bit closer to Keita’s. He couldn’t control it, however, no matter how much he knew he should stop and back away. Almost before he knew what he was doing, Akira kissed Keita lightly on the lips and whispered, “Feel better soon, Keichan.”
Immediately, when he realized what he’d done, he straightened up and hurried into his own bed, fearful that Keita might wake up and catch him. He lay still for a few minutes, but Keita’s breath stayed slow and even, and Akira was confident that the other boy hadn’t noticed a thing.
And as he drifted off to sleep, he realized that he would have another memory to lock away in the morning. It would be his little secret, and he would take it to his grave.
The next night, however, his body seemed to be on auto-pilot again, for when it came time for him to go to bed, Akira spent a few minutes at Keita’s bedside, watching, before he bent down to kiss him again.
He froze, when Keita made a noise that seemed like he had woken up, but no, he just rolled over, and Akira let out a sigh of relief. That was two close-calls he’d had now, and he would have to have a strong talk with his body to let it know that they weren’t allowed to do that again. They would probably not get away with it for a third time.
But he did get away with it a third time. And a fourth. And a fifth. Every night for nearly a month, just before he went to bed, Akira would watch Keita sleep for a few minutes, and then kiss him good night. It was nearly routine now, written into his programming. It surprised Akira that he could really get away with this for so long, and it made him smile knowing that he could express his feelings without fear of rejection, but for how much longer could this continue? How much longer could he keep on stealing kisses before he accidentally woke Keita up and would have to explain?
Every night he told himself, this is the last time, but he had grown so accustomed to doing it that it almost seemed wrong somehow to suddenly stop. And really, how could he deny himself the one thing he truly wanted?
And so the process continues. Every night, just before bed, Akira kisses Keita good night, sometimes whispers ‘I love you’ into the quiet of the room, before slipping into his bed and dreaming dreams of one day being together.
But what Akira fails to notice is that every night, when he’s snuggled into his blankets and his breathing evens out and he’s drifting off into sleep, Keita smiles.
Comments highly appreciated. =^_^=