Queen For A Day
Title: Queen For A Day
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Kageyama/Hosho Reiko (Nazotoki wa Dinner no Ato De)
Summary: Reiko had unknowingly dressed herself up as the object of Kageyama's disgusting fantasies. The cutout that she had tried so desperately for months to rid him of to no avail. And now here she was, Union Jack corset and all.
Notes/Warnings: Things I am not sorry for--this story. Just a note, but this does not take place in the same universe as the other Nazodi oneshots I've written. Please enjoy this shameless story without having to read anything else first :)
It was nearly impossible to see out the dark, almond-shaped eye pieces on the ridiculous mask. And then there was the heavier-than-it-looked helmet perched atop her head, most likely flattening and rumpling her precious hair. Her scalp was sweaty inside the stupid thing as Reiko patrolled her assigned part of the floor.
With cases in their own jurisdiction slowing lately and Kazamatsuri-san dead set on promotion to whatever Tokyo elite squad would take him someday, he had volunteered their team to assist on what seemed to be a complete waste of time. Hosho Reiko was a proper detective, darn it. And sure, she'd entered the police academy years back daydreaming of undercover operations, sneaking close to a criminal's inner circle so she could expose them and see them locked behind bars. But this wasn't the kind of undercover she'd had in mind.
The Western Tokyo Civic Hall was this year's location for the Kanto Region Comic Fair, a gathering of the socially unfortunate. Even now the exhibition hall was crowded with noisy, creepy fans clamoring for some rare manga issue or a poster of some animated character with an implausibly large chest. And here she was in the middle of it desperately trying to do her job while said fans continuously approached her.
The official assignment? Three manga artists had turned up dead in the past few weeks, and the Kanto Region Comic Fair had an obvious bullseye on it. So many artists were gathered here - if a fan was behind the deaths, it was on Kazamatsuri's team to help in identifying a potential culprit. But because Kazamatsuri-san was Kazamatsuri-san, they didn't dare wander the floor flashing their police badges. Even now Reiko's badge was stashed on top of her sweaty scalp underneath the red and white helmet.
Kazamatsuri had arranged for costumes for everyone. He was walking around in an obnoxious and expensive Batman costume, complete with a cape. Not a rental, as the costume was clearly (and disturbingly) molded to his form. Reiko could see him with quite a gathering of adoring females on the opposite side of the hall. He was obviously not working very hard. Reiko herself had turned up her nose at a number of other demeaning costumes the convention staff had made available for her. One of them hadn't been much more than a bikini with a studded bra top! She would have, of course, looked stunning in such a get-up, but she was on the job. And a complete professional.
Yet there was something oddly familiar about her current outfit with its helmet, mask, Union Jack corset top, puffy white skirt, and bright red patent leather knee-high boots. She even had a matching set of elbow-length red gloves, which made her grip on her prop sword slightly easier. The sword was what had attracted her to the costume in the first place. Even though she couldn't see things so clearly (the helmet ruined her peripheral vision and the mask cast everything in a dark haze), she could at least hold up her sword to keep the more obsessive fanboys away.
Several men had already approached her, referring to her as "Your Majesty," which Reiko wouldn't have minded hearing if they weren't drooling at the sight of her simultaneously. Some of them had even nitpicked her for not having the character's "White Cape of Justice," but she found her attire to be tiresome enough already even if it wasn't one hundred percent accurate. She patrolled the hall slowly, looking around for suspicious individuals and enduring the catcalls and shouts of the character's fans. It was only when she turned a corner and found a display plastered with the character's face that she realized just what she'd done.
Beside the display stood a cutout wearing the exact same outfit. "Queen Q" the cutout declared, the same as the obnoxious and identical twin cutout currently residing in her butler's home office. Reiko had unknowingly dressed herself up as the object of Kageyama's disgusting fantasies. The cutout that she had tried so desperately for months to rid him of to no avail. And now here she was, Union Jack corset and all.
It was too warm in this hall, surrounded by the various body odors of the fanboys who had emerged from their apartments and/or basements to attend. She turned away from the stupid cutout, desperate to resume her work.
It was awful that Kageyama felt the need to keep such a thing in the house. Her house! Well, technically, her father's house. But she was the one who lived in it, seeing as how her father was away on business perpetually! Either way, Kageyama lived in a fantasy land where this Queen Q fought monsters with a sword despite having many obvious weaknesses - namely, Reiko thought with a futile adjusting of her helmet, the inability to see properly!
And what was the point in such a cutout when Kageyama got to look at her every day? Surely she had a lot more to offer than a piece of cardboard. Beauty! Wit! Three dimensions!
It was perhaps for the best that Kageyama had the day off today, Reiko decided as she batted away yet another creepy fellow trying to "accidentally" bump into her. He knew she'd be working, but she'd refrained from informing him of the cosplay aspect. Since Kageyama prided himself on sneaking about in costume, he'd have definitely followed her around. The last thing she needed was her butler finding the criminal before she did, as was his annoying tendency. Even in this silly get-up, Reiko was determined to stay at the top of her game. And it wasn't as though "Batman" was likely to find any criminals lurking about! No, it was all on her!
The time passed slowly, however, and although she'd had to gesture menacingly at several rude young men with the business end of her prop sword, none of them seemed to fit the profile of "manga artist murderer." Just guys in need of a girlfriend, if their constant attempts at trying to grope her were any indication. She'd been tempted to haul one or two in for harassment, but sadly she did not have the time to do that when there might be a murderer around.
The afternoon wound its way down, and the likelihood of any bad guys making themselves known dwindled. All of the manga artists who'd had panels and autograph signings had already departed, very much alive and accompanied by their managers and staff. If any of them turned up dead later, Reiko hadn't found any likely suspects wandering around this place.
Batman himself found her, Kazamatsuri-san sweeping by with a great flourishing of his silly cape. "Hosho-kun," he said, lowering his voice so she could barely understand him. "All that remains is the costume ball for attendees. I believe the threat has passed, and Gotham City is safe."
She rolled her eyes, and thankfully her mask concealed her obvious contempt for her boss' idiocy. "Are we dismissed?"
The most self-satisfied grin ever appeared on Kazamatsuri's lips, the rest of his face largely concealed by his Batman cowl and mask. "Criminals will think twice before trying anything under my nose." He looked down at her costume, tsking a bit. "That look definitely doesn't suit you, Hosho-kun."
Of course it didn't, Reiko thought. But whatever Kazamatsuri's obnoxious thoughts were about her appearance, she'd gotten lots of (unsolicited) compliments. She held her chin high, not allowing his Batman-ness to intimidate her. Under the mask, he was still a fool.
"Then I'll just change and go home."
"And report in tomorrow at..." His voice trailed off as soon as he saw a few girls in bikinis waving from across the room. "I'll be at the costume ball, farewell."
She sighed, thankful to be rid of him. Now she had only to get back to the room where she'd left her clothes. She could be home in time for dinner. Even if it was Kageyama's day off he'd surely make an exception so she didn't have to eat (shudder) takeout food.
Sword in hand, Reiko headed through the exhibit hall's staff exit. But when she arrived at the room she knew for a certainty that she'd left her clothes in, the door was locked. She shook it vigorously, knocked on it, then shook the knob once more.
A search of all the other rooms in the corridor yielded the same unsatisfying result. Had all the staff simply gone to the costume ball? Didn't they know she was a very serious detective who needed her very normal clothing back? Didn't any of them care that she'd been stuck in a costume like this for the better part of the day? She gripped the prop sword tightly, wondering if she'd get in trouble for trying to jam the thing in the door to try and pry it open.
All the things she'd been looking forward to after this silly assignment started to fade away. A delicious meal, perhaps a bubble bath and some career women's magazines to read before bed. And now she was stuck here in this convention center until someone happened by with a key! Her cell phone and bag were equally locked away with her clothes, and Reiko fumed. She couldn't even call Kageyama to demand he stop by with a locksmith or simply a lockpick (surely that was something in his skill set).
Of course, without her peripheral vision, she hadn't seen the person approaching behind her until she heard his shoes scuff on the linoleum. She turned, ready to poke at the person with her sword until they let her in. But instead she held her breath very suddenly.
It wasn't a staff member or even one of the convention's guests of honor. There he was in his usual uniform, bow tie and all. The only difference from usual was the attendee badge hung on a yellow lanyard around his neck. He beamed, and Reiko was horrified at the sight of him. So this was how he spent his days off!
But instead of his usual "my lady" greeting, his eyes were full of joy and his smile wasn't that usual smirk. He was downright thrilled to see her.
"Your Majesty," he said, arm crossing his chest and bowing to her so low that Reiko realized just what was going on here. The helmet and the mask! He didn't know it was her. He thought it was that darned Queen Q herself! "I've wanted to speak with you all day. Forgive me for sneaking up on you so thoughtlessly."
Reiko's mouth went dry. Kageyama was standing upright once more, smiling from ear to ear in a way he'd never look at Hosho Reiko, his employer (despite the fact that he should have worshiped the ground under her feet, she thought bitterly). Unable to speak, unwilling to give herself away - because surely Kageyama would never, ever let her live it down, fan of his cardboard cutout that he was - Reiko merely raised her sword and inclined her head by way of greeting.
Kageyama fidgeted slightly. "Your Majesty, are you unwell?"
She nodded, hoping it would be enough to make him leave her alone so she could maintain her dignity. Unfortunately, because Kageyama was such a raving lunatic when it came to his manga and his beloved Queen Q, he only sighed happily.
"Series three, episode fifteen!" he said to her, a twinkle in his wicked butler eye. "When the Zolarians from the planet Thrax invade!"
She nodded again at whatever this could possibly mean. Kageyama's seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of the program was enough of a reminder that her butler had some downright nerdy hobbies.
He leaned close, smiling. "The episode where they stole your voice. Clever." He pulled a pen and pad from the pocket of his suit pants. "Could I trouble you for an autograph instead?"
She shook her head. If there was an "official" Queen Q signature, there was no way that Reiko would be able to replicate it.
If she thought Kageyama would leave her alone, having already refused to speak to him or sign an autograph, she was dearly mistaken. Instead he held out his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. "If you'll forgive my impertinence, Your Majesty, might I escort you to the costume ball?"
No! No, she wanted to go home! She wanted Kageyama to stop fawning over Queen Q and start fawning over her! Wait, she thought. That wasn't exactly what she meant. Wait, what did she mean? Because right now, based on the adoring look in her butler's eyes, she had him. She had his full, complete attention. With his love for Queen Q, there'd be no insults, no facetious commentary. And definitely no implied remarks about her skills as a detective.
This Kageyama, the man in love with some fictional woman in a Union Jack corset. She could have a full evening on his arm as the center of his universe. Beloved and adored and not the object of his smug rudeness. Reiko had never known such an evening as long as she'd employed (and fired!) and employed (and fired!!!) him!
Suddenly her sweaty scalp bothered her far less than it had earlier. Suddenly her blurred, darkened view of the world bothered her far less, too. She took his arm, feeling a shudder of seeming pleasure course through him at the first touch of her red gloved fingers on his suit jacket.
Kageyama's cutout had come to life. And when this was all done and she could get her clothes back, she could laugh at him. At how easily he'd fallen for her, how easily the great Kageyama had been tricked, having allowed his brain to step aside in favor of whatever was stirring below the belt.
Reiko felt a bit warm as they walked toward the costume ball. Because as delightful as the thought of some revenge against Kageyama felt, she was the slightest bit enamored with the idea of being the object of his total adoration. Clearly he cared for her in some way, if his devotion to her as a butler was any indication. But despite herself, sometimes Reiko wanted a little more. More than the snide jokes and patronizing looks. She wanted Kageyama the man, not Kageyama the butler.
Her red heeled boots clicked in a more pronounced fashion as they continued down the hall. Well, if this was the way to experience a new side of Kageyama, she'd go all the way.
--
When they arrived, "Batman" was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he'd already driven away in his silly car with one of his bikini girls on either side of him. This left "Queen Q" and her enraptured butler to their own devices as the costume ball wore on. It wasn't really a ball, Reiko had to admit. It was more like a DJ at the front of the room with a computer hooked up to speakers playing an array of noisy, irritating music while the awkward manga and animation-loving crowd swayed excitedly to it. Reiko imagined it was mostly theme songs to various animated shows she'd never had much interest in watching - she figured that Kageyama knew the name of every one, but he thankfully did not volunteer that information.
Instead he was utterly devoted to pleasing her. Even with her refusal to speak, she found herself grinning and nodding at Kageyama's various suggestions. "Might I bring Your Majesty some champagne?" "Shall we stand over here, the furthest from the speakers?" "Have I told you what an honor it is to be in your company? I've been a fan for so long!"
Some of the awkward fanboys that had surrounded and hounded Reiko earlier that day seemed to steer clear at the sight of her with her champagne flute, standing together with the fellow in the butler "costume." No wonder Kageyama blended in so well - everyone assumed he was playing some character. Kageyama, too, was imbibing, and as Reiko's happiness bubbled up like the drinks she was downing, so did his. He rarely drank in her presence at home, though he was always happy to open a fresh bottle of wine to serve with her dinner.
Her lack of dinner caught up with her very quickly, as did the knowledge that she'd been on her feet in these knee-high red boots all day. She concentrated the most on staying quiet so when she swayed the slightest bit on her feet, Kageyama boldly put out a hand to steady her, his fingers lingering longer than necessary on the arm of his woman-on-a-pedestal, Queen Q.
She gave him a light tap on the backside with her prop sword to keep him in line, and to her utter delight, Kageyama blushed at the punishment. He released her, taking another decidedly lengthy sip of champagne. "So many apologies, Your Majesty. Would you prefer me to take my leave of you?"
Reiko had no watch, but even on Kageyama's nights off he was usually home before bedtime as he often brewed her some tea or hot cocoa before she went to sleep. The night had worn on without her realizing it, and the sky was pitch black outside of the skylight on the roof of the dance hall. Perhaps Kageyama was worried about Reiko being home alone - little did he know that he was with her right then and there! Silly butler!
She gave him another affectionate tap with her sword, shaking her head strongly.
"Ah," he said, cheeks still pink as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I will, of course, stay at your side for however long you like."
She gestured to the drinks table with her sword, implying that Kageyama should have another with the slightest quirk of her lips. He hurried off obediently. It was rather refreshing to see Kageyama so quick to heed her orders, where he usually found some way to roll his eyes or give her a demeaning look whenever she fired him.
Feeling loosened up, bolder than ever before, and relishing the way Kageyama's praise fell so sweetly from his lips ("I loved when you saved the world from the killer robot lizards at the end of series two, Your Majesty!"), she decided that she'd take her practical joke to the next level. She'd endured enough of the terrible music and the terrible dancing of the other costumed oddballs around them. And even if she was Hosho Reiko, proper lady and heiress, the prospect of pursuing something with Kageyama seemed like a better idea than most now that she'd gone through so many glasses of bubbly.
She was off the clock work-wise and off the grid lady-needing-her-butler-wise. Kageyama would never presume to give Reiko all she needed unless she outright ordered him to, and it had left her lonely far too many nights. Did she like Kageyama? Despite his many insults and uncouth remarks, yes, she was fairly certain she adored him. But Kageyama only had eyes for the darned cutout.
Well, here she was, the cutout come to life. She'd let him live out his fantasy, if only because it would let her live out hers simultaneously. To be with Kageyama, no strings attached, no expectations, no employer and employee distance, and without him even knowing who she really was. It was exciting, it was thrilling. It was worth all the hours she'd endured in this stupid costume.
Kageyama returned with two more champagne flutes, and Reiko downed hers with alarming quickness. She took a step backwards in the direction of the exit, desperate to stay on her feet and not fall. Kageyama's eyebrows quirked a bit in confusion. "Your Majesty, are you in need of a visit to the ladies'?" He looked around in a bit of a panic. An adorable panic. "Perhaps I could rustle up a female escort for you."
Reiko shook her head, beckoning him to follow her with the slightest crook of her finger. And Kageyama was off, a little heavier on his feet than usual. His normally pale, rounded cheeks were pink from the alcohol, and his eyes seemed to be swimming a bit behind his glasses. Soon she'd get what she wanted. Never before had Kageyama looked so willing, so compliant.
Out the door they went, Reiko relishing the fresher air outside the confines of the ballroom. Kageyama, proper gentleman that he was, still held out his arm and together they snuck through the nearly empty halls. A few stray couples in costume with similar inclinations disappeared through one door or another. Reiko fumed briefly, remembering her locked up clothing and possessions, but that was neither here nor there right now.
Hosho Reiko, heiress to the Hosho Group, was a proper young woman who preferred to be wooed with dinner and compliments, with rose petals on her bedsheets and a new diamond necklace. Hosho Reiko, in disguise as the galaxy's savior Queen Q, on the other hand. Well, she was a bit easier to please. Even if he hadn't made her dinner tonight, surely that was enough of a pre-existing qualification in Kageyama's favor.
As the champagne made her heart sing and her touch on Kageyama's arm grow all the more possessive, Reiko expended most of her energy in remaining quiet. One slip-up, one muttered "Kageyama" and it was all over. She wouldn't be able to bear the humiliation if he discovered her identity and turned her down.
Reiko started jiggling doorknobs, desperate for some place more private. It became her dragging him down the hallway rather than him escorting her by this point.
"Your Majesty, I am not this type of..." Kageyama was mumbling then, beads of perspiration making themselves known on his forehead. "Unless of course, you wish it of me. Then...then I wouldn't dare insult you..."
How sweet, Reiko thought. Kageyama the gentleman didn't normally have sex on a first date, not even with his fantasy woman. Hmm, she thought. Neither did Hosho Reiko. But this wasn't really a first date. Not when she'd known him as long as she had, all the months she'd spent equal parts frustrated and confused by him. Not when she finally had the opportunity for that poison tongue of his to do something more productive.
Finally one of the doors gave way, and Reiko hurried them inside. Kageyama found a chain, giving it a firm tug and turning on a single light bulb. Reiko was desperate not to betray her disappointment. Instead of one of the nice changing rooms she'd been in earlier that day, she and Kageyama were now situated in a supply closet. She'd almost stepped in the janitor's bucket upon pulling him into the room. Well, no matter. This would simply have to do.
She defiantly closed the door, turning around to face him. He was leaning heavily against the metal shelving unit on the front wall, looking way too proper in his butler uniform and bow tie given the shelves of turpentine and rags behind him. She tossed her prop sword aside, seeing Kageyama jump as it hit the floor with a crash.
"Have I displeased you in some way?"
She shook her head, hands on her hips impatiently. He continued to stare at her, breathing heavily. She'd definitely unnerved him now, and she relished the sight of Kageyama in such a frenzied panic. He was used to being in charge when it came to their dealings. But not for Queen Q. Never for Queen Q.
Oh, curse series three, episode fifteen. The urge to shout out "take me now" or some other melodramatic phrase that Reiko openly mocked (and secretly adored when she snuck a peek at a romance novel or three) was growing. Instead she took one hand, moving it to the top of her corset. She placed one finger in the middle of the Union Jack, from the soft, rounded tops of her breasts where they perched at the corset's top and dragged her finger down, down, down. Kageyama's eyes followed that finger with complete concentration. She paused at the bottom where the material slightly flared.
"Your Majesty, it would be an honor and a privilege."
If only she had a tape recorder. His sycophantic mumblings would be something to give her comfort in the days to come when he reverted to his condescending, smarmy self. If only he spoke to her this way in all things. But her complaints were soon ignored when he approached her, sending her heart racing as he went down to his knees before her. Definitely something the Kageyama she knew would never dream of doing, much as it was his job to defer to her.
He yanked off his convention attendee lanyard and tossed it aside, then bent forward, steadying his hand on the floor beside her right foot as he brought his lips to the red patent leather. He was kissing her boot! When he looked up, most likely at her reflexive intake of breath, his eyes were rather wild behind his frames. As though he'd finally captured his beloved Queen Q, like he was the real hero in this tale. She'd allow it, if he continued what he'd started. She merely nodded in agreement, chastising herself for nearly giving up the game.
He made his way up, pressing slow, reverent kisses to her ankle, her calf, halting at her knee where the boot left off and her bare leg began. He moved to her left foot instead, kissing his way up once more. To be lavished with such attention, such out and out worship, was boiling her blood and sending it all to her core, to the growing impatient sensation between her legs.
And then his lips were on skin, and she shut her eyes. Her helmet thunked back against the door in a decidedly unsexy fashion, but Kageyama paid it no mind, his mouth paying homage to the front, back, and sides of her thighs, his head vanishing under the puffy white fabric of her skirt. A normal person would take off the mask, take off the stifling helmet, but Reiko could do none of these things. Instead she could only bite her lip, hands reaching to either side of her and finding sturdier holds on the other shelves in the cramped little closet.
You're about to have sex with your butler in a janitor's room, Reiko thought in alarm. Have you no shame?
But then he was stroking her legs, soft as a feather, with his fingertips, and she stopped worrying. "Your Majesty," she heard him say as his head reemerged from under the swell of her skirt. He looked up at her expectantly, sliding his glasses off and getting to his feet. She watched, her vision still ridiculously dark in the stupid mask, as he set them down gently on one of the shelves behind him. "Shall I proceed?" he asked in almost the same tone of voice he used when he was about to set down another plate before her at the dining table.
She nodded, helmet awkwardly thunking again. He crouched down, fingers sliding up her legs again to find the lacy fabric of her panties. Thank goodness she'd gone with these instead of her usual utilitarian pairs that went with her work suits. It had only been to go with the costume, but she was utterly grateful for her fashion consciousness earlier that day. His fingers teasingly stroked along the damp material before he gave them a light tug, slowly pulling them down her legs, helping her to step out of them.
If she was losing something, he had to discard something too. How many nights had Reiko lain awake wishing Kageyama would dress down once in a while around the house? Keeping hold of the shelves on either side, she lifted her leg and nudged at his suit jacket with her foot. He obediently got to his feet once more, her panties in his hand. She watched him slip them into his jacket pocket before sliding the jacket off his shoulders entirely, leaving him in his black and white striped waistcoat, his starched and pressed white dress shirt, and that darned bow tie.
With his usual care, he gently perched the jacket atop one of the mops, not daring to let his precious clothing touch the floor. He approached again, desire obvious in his dark brown eyes. Eyes that were usually hidden behind his frames were now on full display, searching for the real woman behind the mask. But lest he discover her, Reiko put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down to his knees.
He chuckled a bit. "Forgive my presumption, Your Majesty. I am yours to command."
Oh, to hear those words from Kageyama at any other time! Reiko's life would be so much easier. Tightening her grip on the shelves to her sides, wrapping her red-gloved fingers around the metal so desperately that she knew there'd be markings on her palms the following day, Reiko slowly widened her stance, shutting her eyes and willing herself not to cry out. Because all too soon Kageyama's mouth was there, with gentle kisses and the startling sensation of his tongue against her sex for the first and, god willing, not the last time.
This was what was missing from her life. All those hours in his company, him always leaning so precariously forward to insult her when he'd have been better off kissing her. For now that mouth of his was kissing elsewhere, his gentle fingers parting her to allow his tongue better access. Her legs began to shake already, reveling in the expert ministrations of Kageyama's mouth against her, as though he was surely meant to be there.
His name forced its way into her throat, and she desperately clamped down on the urge to cry out when his tongue began its torturous teasing against her clit. And yes, she leaned back against the closet door with another unpleasant thunk of the god forsaken helmet. "Kageyama!" her brain screamed. "Oh yes, Kageyama, don't stop!" Queen Q merely let out a shuddering, almost disbelieving breath.
And he didn't stop, his mouth lavishing her with attention as she struggled to stay upright. It was Kageyama's mouth, Kageyama the man who insulted her on the regular and made such a tasty salmon mousse. She allowed one hand to let go of the shelf, moving it to awkwardly rest atop his head where it lay completely hidden beneath her skirt. Her body shook as he none-too-politely brought her hurriedly to a climax. She couldn't moan, couldn't beg for more. She could only lean back, mouth open in shock as Kageyama thoroughly worshiped his beloved Queen Q through her shuddering orgasm.
Before she could breathe again with any sort of efficiency he was up on his feet with his arms around her. He rested his hands on the back of the Union Jack, and when he kissed her mouth she was slightly embarrassed and slightly impressed to taste her own sweetness on his lips. She shouldn't have granted him this, and she only had to stomp down on his foot with the heel of her boot if she wished it, but being kissed by Kageyama was too good to pass up. He slipped his tongue past her lips, and if he was annoyed when his forehead bumped against the helmet, he did not voice it.
Being the Queen and obviously in charge, she didn't dare lose her chance. Her gloves weren't too cumbersome, and she yanked at the buttons of his waistcoat, feeling him wince in pure butler horror as some of them were separated from the fabric and went scattering across the floor, lodging under some nasty bucket. Waistcoat undone, Reiko went for his belt next. It slipped through the loops with ease, Kageyama obediently standing while she undressed him. She untucked his shirt and pulled the zipper of his slacks down.
Perhaps he couldn't see her eyes behind her mask, but it was all too obvious what she wanted. Leaving the surety of the shelves, Reiko allowed him to hoist her, her back hitting the door with such force that she nearly abandoned her silence. Even in the hazy light her mask afforded she could see him before her, Kageyama about to fulfill his long-time fantasy.
And to think, he didn't have to solve a mystery first.
He positioned himself, and with her so ready for him thanks to his kind exertions, she could only smile and wrap her legs around him as he buried himself within her. "Kageyama," she wanted to moan. "Kageyama, finally." She bit her lip desperately to keep from crying out, settling for a soft moan that blended with his own. Hopefully he didn't notice the sound of her voice. He was so much stronger than he looked, keeping her raised up with seemingly little trouble as he moved against her.
She was thoroughly pinned between him and the door, her breath coming in shallow little gasps as he moved. His face was against her neck, his hot breaths tickling her skin. It was Kageyama, Reiko reminded herself as her fingers pulled roughly at his hair, tugging at the roots. It was Kageyama doing this to her, making her feel so perfect. He was at just the right angle, and with one particularly forceful thrust against her she was gone again, crying out in surprise at his masterful ability to make her come.
"Your Majesty," he murmured, nearly out of breath. "I don't want to make a mess of things..." But she refused to let him go, to let him be anywhere but inside her. She was still lost in her euphoria, and she clung to him as he came himself.
He stilled his movements, looking up and into her eyes. Well, where her eyes technically were hiding behind her mask. There was a sweaty sheen on his face, and she could only imagine that she looked far more disheveled, given how forcefully he'd just exerted himself against and within her. He gently squatted down as he withdrew from her, allowing her to set the heels of her boots back on solid ground.
Well, Reiko thought, realizing again how surrounded they were by cleaning supplies and old mops. This had been one of the more impulsive moves of her life, if not the most impulsive. She found herself grinning as Kageyama stumbled around, squinting a bit until he retrieved his glasses.
She could barely move, her legs still shaking from his skillful attentions. Her mouth went dry as he set his glasses back on, buttoning what buttons on his waistcoat remained after her lack of care. Kageyama, his usually neat hair having fallen across his brow and his shirt untucked, was the most beautiful thing she'd ever laid eyes on, with the exception of herself on several occasions. Kageyama, who'd probably never forget his very special night with the incomparable "Queen Q."
"Your Majesty," he said, retrieving one of his stray buttons. "I do sincerely apologize for any rough handling."
She shook her head, shakily grabbing the sword from the floor where she'd thrown it. No need to apologize at all, she decided, her body feeling so loved after his thorough claiming of her.
"Might I escort you to..." Kageyama looked slightly embarrassed. "May I take you home, wherever that might be?"
Reiko's anger emerged briefly at the thought of Kageyama having driven over here in the limo - the limo that was solely in existence to ferry her about. She waved the sword at the door, gesturing for him to take his leave of her first. She did have to get her clothes, after all.
He bowed low to her before taking her gloved hand in his own. He pressed a delicate kiss to her knuckles before stepping back and exiting the room. She gave him a head start, her mind still swimming with the pleasurable and all too fleeting experience. Reiko very nearly floated down the hallway, finally retrieving a member of the staff who allowed her into the dressing room.
Despite the earlier rage the stupid costume had put her in, she now felt a slight sadness as she slipped off the gloves, undid the clasps on the front of the Union Jack and maneuvered clumsily behind her back to unlace the corset and slide it off. When she was back in the work suit she'd arrived in, her hair flattened and lifeless after a day's endurance inside the helmet, she just didn't feel right.
Oh well, she told herself, blushing at the way her suit pants clung to her. Kageyama had walked out the door with her panties in his pocket, and that was enough to make her feel better.
With one last glance in her pocket mirror, she shouldered her bag and headed for the door. It seemed that the costume ball had ended, and all of the day's guests were departing. Since Reiko hadn't heard anything suspicious, it was just another convention day, and all the manga artists had stayed relatively safe under her watch.
She opened her bag, pulling out her cell phone, tucking her hair behind her ear and hoping that she wasn't giving off the impression that she'd just done something incredibly dirty inside the confines of the convention hall. She took a deep breath and was just about to press the 'send' button to call Kageyama when she heard a throat clear behind her.
Reiko turned, seeing Kageyama there, back in his glasses and not one hair askew. If he'd swapped out his waistcoat she couldn't tell, seeing as how he'd rebuttoned his jacket over it. She nearly jumped back at the sight of him but did her best to stand her ground.
"Oh! Kageyama," she said, attempting to sound casual and surprised to see him. "I was just about to call you."
"My lady, I was attending the convention here on the day off you so generously granted me." Yet there was none of the reverence in his voice that he'd saved for Queen Q earlier.
She slipped her phone back in her bag, not meeting his eyes. "I hope you had a good time," she told him, though if she was smart they'd just get in the limo and head home with no further discussion.
"I did indeed," he said, holding out his hand and gesturing for her to walk with him to the convention center parking lot.
They walked in silence a few moments before Kageyama spoke again. "Might I inquire as to why you were here, my lady?"
"Work," she managed to choke out, wondering if he could smell sex on her. He was the world's most perceptive butler after all. "Just looking for suspicious persons."
But no, Kageyama didn't seem at all affected by the sight (or smell) of her, and he politely held the rear limo door open for her. When they were on the road, she caught his eye as he looked back at her in the rearview mirror. "I thought I'd seen Inspector Kazamatsuri's car earlier today. Glad to know I wasn't mistaken."
"Mm," she said, feeling herself blush at the attention from his eyes. Now she couldn't count on the mask between those eyes and her own. She couldn't help resting her hands on her thighs, desperate to stay in control. But all she could do for the remainder of the ride was look at Kageyama's hands on the steering wheel, at his lips in the rearview mirror if she tilted her neck the slightest bit.
He pulled the limo into the drive back at the house, holding her door again. She'd had him, had him the whole evening. She'd tricked him totally, convincingly. And now perhaps she ought to claim her victory, that she'd finally gotten one over on Kageyama of all people. Surely he'd be impressed with her cunning, her audacity. Perhaps he'd reward her with another Queen Q-style session, but this time she'd be able to make a bit more noise, revel in the feeling of his touch all the more.
Reiko was mere seconds away from bragging when Kageyama moved to turn the housekey in the lock. Instead he turned around, standing back against the door.
She crossed her arms. "I've been in a convention hall full of stinky men most of the day, Kageyama. Let me inside!"
He leaned forward, moving to whisper in her ear. "You do realize you are nearly a full inch taller than the real Queen Q, don't you? Not that I'm complaining, my lady."
And with that he turned back around and unlocked the front door, holding it open with a wicked glimmer in his eye.
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Kageyama/Hosho Reiko (Nazotoki wa Dinner no Ato De)
Summary: Reiko had unknowingly dressed herself up as the object of Kageyama's disgusting fantasies. The cutout that she had tried so desperately for months to rid him of to no avail. And now here she was, Union Jack corset and all.
Notes/Warnings: Things I am not sorry for--this story. Just a note, but this does not take place in the same universe as the other Nazodi oneshots I've written. Please enjoy this shameless story without having to read anything else first :)
It was nearly impossible to see out the dark, almond-shaped eye pieces on the ridiculous mask. And then there was the heavier-than-it-looked helmet perched atop her head, most likely flattening and rumpling her precious hair. Her scalp was sweaty inside the stupid thing as Reiko patrolled her assigned part of the floor.
With cases in their own jurisdiction slowing lately and Kazamatsuri-san dead set on promotion to whatever Tokyo elite squad would take him someday, he had volunteered their team to assist on what seemed to be a complete waste of time. Hosho Reiko was a proper detective, darn it. And sure, she'd entered the police academy years back daydreaming of undercover operations, sneaking close to a criminal's inner circle so she could expose them and see them locked behind bars. But this wasn't the kind of undercover she'd had in mind.
The Western Tokyo Civic Hall was this year's location for the Kanto Region Comic Fair, a gathering of the socially unfortunate. Even now the exhibition hall was crowded with noisy, creepy fans clamoring for some rare manga issue or a poster of some animated character with an implausibly large chest. And here she was in the middle of it desperately trying to do her job while said fans continuously approached her.
The official assignment? Three manga artists had turned up dead in the past few weeks, and the Kanto Region Comic Fair had an obvious bullseye on it. So many artists were gathered here - if a fan was behind the deaths, it was on Kazamatsuri's team to help in identifying a potential culprit. But because Kazamatsuri-san was Kazamatsuri-san, they didn't dare wander the floor flashing their police badges. Even now Reiko's badge was stashed on top of her sweaty scalp underneath the red and white helmet.
Kazamatsuri had arranged for costumes for everyone. He was walking around in an obnoxious and expensive Batman costume, complete with a cape. Not a rental, as the costume was clearly (and disturbingly) molded to his form. Reiko could see him with quite a gathering of adoring females on the opposite side of the hall. He was obviously not working very hard. Reiko herself had turned up her nose at a number of other demeaning costumes the convention staff had made available for her. One of them hadn't been much more than a bikini with a studded bra top! She would have, of course, looked stunning in such a get-up, but she was on the job. And a complete professional.
Yet there was something oddly familiar about her current outfit with its helmet, mask, Union Jack corset top, puffy white skirt, and bright red patent leather knee-high boots. She even had a matching set of elbow-length red gloves, which made her grip on her prop sword slightly easier. The sword was what had attracted her to the costume in the first place. Even though she couldn't see things so clearly (the helmet ruined her peripheral vision and the mask cast everything in a dark haze), she could at least hold up her sword to keep the more obsessive fanboys away.
Several men had already approached her, referring to her as "Your Majesty," which Reiko wouldn't have minded hearing if they weren't drooling at the sight of her simultaneously. Some of them had even nitpicked her for not having the character's "White Cape of Justice," but she found her attire to be tiresome enough already even if it wasn't one hundred percent accurate. She patrolled the hall slowly, looking around for suspicious individuals and enduring the catcalls and shouts of the character's fans. It was only when she turned a corner and found a display plastered with the character's face that she realized just what she'd done.
Beside the display stood a cutout wearing the exact same outfit. "Queen Q" the cutout declared, the same as the obnoxious and identical twin cutout currently residing in her butler's home office. Reiko had unknowingly dressed herself up as the object of Kageyama's disgusting fantasies. The cutout that she had tried so desperately for months to rid him of to no avail. And now here she was, Union Jack corset and all.
It was too warm in this hall, surrounded by the various body odors of the fanboys who had emerged from their apartments and/or basements to attend. She turned away from the stupid cutout, desperate to resume her work.
It was awful that Kageyama felt the need to keep such a thing in the house. Her house! Well, technically, her father's house. But she was the one who lived in it, seeing as how her father was away on business perpetually! Either way, Kageyama lived in a fantasy land where this Queen Q fought monsters with a sword despite having many obvious weaknesses - namely, Reiko thought with a futile adjusting of her helmet, the inability to see properly!
And what was the point in such a cutout when Kageyama got to look at her every day? Surely she had a lot more to offer than a piece of cardboard. Beauty! Wit! Three dimensions!
It was perhaps for the best that Kageyama had the day off today, Reiko decided as she batted away yet another creepy fellow trying to "accidentally" bump into her. He knew she'd be working, but she'd refrained from informing him of the cosplay aspect. Since Kageyama prided himself on sneaking about in costume, he'd have definitely followed her around. The last thing she needed was her butler finding the criminal before she did, as was his annoying tendency. Even in this silly get-up, Reiko was determined to stay at the top of her game. And it wasn't as though "Batman" was likely to find any criminals lurking about! No, it was all on her!
The time passed slowly, however, and although she'd had to gesture menacingly at several rude young men with the business end of her prop sword, none of them seemed to fit the profile of "manga artist murderer." Just guys in need of a girlfriend, if their constant attempts at trying to grope her were any indication. She'd been tempted to haul one or two in for harassment, but sadly she did not have the time to do that when there might be a murderer around.
The afternoon wound its way down, and the likelihood of any bad guys making themselves known dwindled. All of the manga artists who'd had panels and autograph signings had already departed, very much alive and accompanied by their managers and staff. If any of them turned up dead later, Reiko hadn't found any likely suspects wandering around this place.
Batman himself found her, Kazamatsuri-san sweeping by with a great flourishing of his silly cape. "Hosho-kun," he said, lowering his voice so she could barely understand him. "All that remains is the costume ball for attendees. I believe the threat has passed, and Gotham City is safe."
She rolled her eyes, and thankfully her mask concealed her obvious contempt for her boss' idiocy. "Are we dismissed?"
The most self-satisfied grin ever appeared on Kazamatsuri's lips, the rest of his face largely concealed by his Batman cowl and mask. "Criminals will think twice before trying anything under my nose." He looked down at her costume, tsking a bit. "That look definitely doesn't suit you, Hosho-kun."
Of course it didn't, Reiko thought. But whatever Kazamatsuri's obnoxious thoughts were about her appearance, she'd gotten lots of (unsolicited) compliments. She held her chin high, not allowing his Batman-ness to intimidate her. Under the mask, he was still a fool.
"Then I'll just change and go home."
"And report in tomorrow at..." His voice trailed off as soon as he saw a few girls in bikinis waving from across the room. "I'll be at the costume ball, farewell."
She sighed, thankful to be rid of him. Now she had only to get back to the room where she'd left her clothes. She could be home in time for dinner. Even if it was Kageyama's day off he'd surely make an exception so she didn't have to eat (shudder) takeout food.
Sword in hand, Reiko headed through the exhibit hall's staff exit. But when she arrived at the room she knew for a certainty that she'd left her clothes in, the door was locked. She shook it vigorously, knocked on it, then shook the knob once more.
A search of all the other rooms in the corridor yielded the same unsatisfying result. Had all the staff simply gone to the costume ball? Didn't they know she was a very serious detective who needed her very normal clothing back? Didn't any of them care that she'd been stuck in a costume like this for the better part of the day? She gripped the prop sword tightly, wondering if she'd get in trouble for trying to jam the thing in the door to try and pry it open.
All the things she'd been looking forward to after this silly assignment started to fade away. A delicious meal, perhaps a bubble bath and some career women's magazines to read before bed. And now she was stuck here in this convention center until someone happened by with a key! Her cell phone and bag were equally locked away with her clothes, and Reiko fumed. She couldn't even call Kageyama to demand he stop by with a locksmith or simply a lockpick (surely that was something in his skill set).
Of course, without her peripheral vision, she hadn't seen the person approaching behind her until she heard his shoes scuff on the linoleum. She turned, ready to poke at the person with her sword until they let her in. But instead she held her breath very suddenly.
It wasn't a staff member or even one of the convention's guests of honor. There he was in his usual uniform, bow tie and all. The only difference from usual was the attendee badge hung on a yellow lanyard around his neck. He beamed, and Reiko was horrified at the sight of him. So this was how he spent his days off!
But instead of his usual "my lady" greeting, his eyes were full of joy and his smile wasn't that usual smirk. He was downright thrilled to see her.
"Your Majesty," he said, arm crossing his chest and bowing to her so low that Reiko realized just what was going on here. The helmet and the mask! He didn't know it was her. He thought it was that darned Queen Q herself! "I've wanted to speak with you all day. Forgive me for sneaking up on you so thoughtlessly."
Reiko's mouth went dry. Kageyama was standing upright once more, smiling from ear to ear in a way he'd never look at Hosho Reiko, his employer (despite the fact that he should have worshiped the ground under her feet, she thought bitterly). Unable to speak, unwilling to give herself away - because surely Kageyama would never, ever let her live it down, fan of his cardboard cutout that he was - Reiko merely raised her sword and inclined her head by way of greeting.
Kageyama fidgeted slightly. "Your Majesty, are you unwell?"
She nodded, hoping it would be enough to make him leave her alone so she could maintain her dignity. Unfortunately, because Kageyama was such a raving lunatic when it came to his manga and his beloved Queen Q, he only sighed happily.
"Series three, episode fifteen!" he said to her, a twinkle in his wicked butler eye. "When the Zolarians from the planet Thrax invade!"
She nodded again at whatever this could possibly mean. Kageyama's seemingly encyclopedic knowledge of the program was enough of a reminder that her butler had some downright nerdy hobbies.
He leaned close, smiling. "The episode where they stole your voice. Clever." He pulled a pen and pad from the pocket of his suit pants. "Could I trouble you for an autograph instead?"
She shook her head. If there was an "official" Queen Q signature, there was no way that Reiko would be able to replicate it.
If she thought Kageyama would leave her alone, having already refused to speak to him or sign an autograph, she was dearly mistaken. Instead he held out his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. "If you'll forgive my impertinence, Your Majesty, might I escort you to the costume ball?"
No! No, she wanted to go home! She wanted Kageyama to stop fawning over Queen Q and start fawning over her! Wait, she thought. That wasn't exactly what she meant. Wait, what did she mean? Because right now, based on the adoring look in her butler's eyes, she had him. She had his full, complete attention. With his love for Queen Q, there'd be no insults, no facetious commentary. And definitely no implied remarks about her skills as a detective.
This Kageyama, the man in love with some fictional woman in a Union Jack corset. She could have a full evening on his arm as the center of his universe. Beloved and adored and not the object of his smug rudeness. Reiko had never known such an evening as long as she'd employed (and fired!) and employed (and fired!!!) him!
Suddenly her sweaty scalp bothered her far less than it had earlier. Suddenly her blurred, darkened view of the world bothered her far less, too. She took his arm, feeling a shudder of seeming pleasure course through him at the first touch of her red gloved fingers on his suit jacket.
Kageyama's cutout had come to life. And when this was all done and she could get her clothes back, she could laugh at him. At how easily he'd fallen for her, how easily the great Kageyama had been tricked, having allowed his brain to step aside in favor of whatever was stirring below the belt.
Reiko felt a bit warm as they walked toward the costume ball. Because as delightful as the thought of some revenge against Kageyama felt, she was the slightest bit enamored with the idea of being the object of his total adoration. Clearly he cared for her in some way, if his devotion to her as a butler was any indication. But despite herself, sometimes Reiko wanted a little more. More than the snide jokes and patronizing looks. She wanted Kageyama the man, not Kageyama the butler.
Her red heeled boots clicked in a more pronounced fashion as they continued down the hall. Well, if this was the way to experience a new side of Kageyama, she'd go all the way.
--
When they arrived, "Batman" was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he'd already driven away in his silly car with one of his bikini girls on either side of him. This left "Queen Q" and her enraptured butler to their own devices as the costume ball wore on. It wasn't really a ball, Reiko had to admit. It was more like a DJ at the front of the room with a computer hooked up to speakers playing an array of noisy, irritating music while the awkward manga and animation-loving crowd swayed excitedly to it. Reiko imagined it was mostly theme songs to various animated shows she'd never had much interest in watching - she figured that Kageyama knew the name of every one, but he thankfully did not volunteer that information.
Instead he was utterly devoted to pleasing her. Even with her refusal to speak, she found herself grinning and nodding at Kageyama's various suggestions. "Might I bring Your Majesty some champagne?" "Shall we stand over here, the furthest from the speakers?" "Have I told you what an honor it is to be in your company? I've been a fan for so long!"
Some of the awkward fanboys that had surrounded and hounded Reiko earlier that day seemed to steer clear at the sight of her with her champagne flute, standing together with the fellow in the butler "costume." No wonder Kageyama blended in so well - everyone assumed he was playing some character. Kageyama, too, was imbibing, and as Reiko's happiness bubbled up like the drinks she was downing, so did his. He rarely drank in her presence at home, though he was always happy to open a fresh bottle of wine to serve with her dinner.
Her lack of dinner caught up with her very quickly, as did the knowledge that she'd been on her feet in these knee-high red boots all day. She concentrated the most on staying quiet so when she swayed the slightest bit on her feet, Kageyama boldly put out a hand to steady her, his fingers lingering longer than necessary on the arm of his woman-on-a-pedestal, Queen Q.
She gave him a light tap on the backside with her prop sword to keep him in line, and to her utter delight, Kageyama blushed at the punishment. He released her, taking another decidedly lengthy sip of champagne. "So many apologies, Your Majesty. Would you prefer me to take my leave of you?"
Reiko had no watch, but even on Kageyama's nights off he was usually home before bedtime as he often brewed her some tea or hot cocoa before she went to sleep. The night had worn on without her realizing it, and the sky was pitch black outside of the skylight on the roof of the dance hall. Perhaps Kageyama was worried about Reiko being home alone - little did he know that he was with her right then and there! Silly butler!
She gave him another affectionate tap with her sword, shaking her head strongly.
"Ah," he said, cheeks still pink as he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I will, of course, stay at your side for however long you like."
She gestured to the drinks table with her sword, implying that Kageyama should have another with the slightest quirk of her lips. He hurried off obediently. It was rather refreshing to see Kageyama so quick to heed her orders, where he usually found some way to roll his eyes or give her a demeaning look whenever she fired him.
Feeling loosened up, bolder than ever before, and relishing the way Kageyama's praise fell so sweetly from his lips ("I loved when you saved the world from the killer robot lizards at the end of series two, Your Majesty!"), she decided that she'd take her practical joke to the next level. She'd endured enough of the terrible music and the terrible dancing of the other costumed oddballs around them. And even if she was Hosho Reiko, proper lady and heiress, the prospect of pursuing something with Kageyama seemed like a better idea than most now that she'd gone through so many glasses of bubbly.
She was off the clock work-wise and off the grid lady-needing-her-butler-wise. Kageyama would never presume to give Reiko all she needed unless she outright ordered him to, and it had left her lonely far too many nights. Did she like Kageyama? Despite his many insults and uncouth remarks, yes, she was fairly certain she adored him. But Kageyama only had eyes for the darned cutout.
Well, here she was, the cutout come to life. She'd let him live out his fantasy, if only because it would let her live out hers simultaneously. To be with Kageyama, no strings attached, no expectations, no employer and employee distance, and without him even knowing who she really was. It was exciting, it was thrilling. It was worth all the hours she'd endured in this stupid costume.
Kageyama returned with two more champagne flutes, and Reiko downed hers with alarming quickness. She took a step backwards in the direction of the exit, desperate to stay on her feet and not fall. Kageyama's eyebrows quirked a bit in confusion. "Your Majesty, are you in need of a visit to the ladies'?" He looked around in a bit of a panic. An adorable panic. "Perhaps I could rustle up a female escort for you."
Reiko shook her head, beckoning him to follow her with the slightest crook of her finger. And Kageyama was off, a little heavier on his feet than usual. His normally pale, rounded cheeks were pink from the alcohol, and his eyes seemed to be swimming a bit behind his glasses. Soon she'd get what she wanted. Never before had Kageyama looked so willing, so compliant.
Out the door they went, Reiko relishing the fresher air outside the confines of the ballroom. Kageyama, proper gentleman that he was, still held out his arm and together they snuck through the nearly empty halls. A few stray couples in costume with similar inclinations disappeared through one door or another. Reiko fumed briefly, remembering her locked up clothing and possessions, but that was neither here nor there right now.
Hosho Reiko, heiress to the Hosho Group, was a proper young woman who preferred to be wooed with dinner and compliments, with rose petals on her bedsheets and a new diamond necklace. Hosho Reiko, in disguise as the galaxy's savior Queen Q, on the other hand. Well, she was a bit easier to please. Even if he hadn't made her dinner tonight, surely that was enough of a pre-existing qualification in Kageyama's favor.
As the champagne made her heart sing and her touch on Kageyama's arm grow all the more possessive, Reiko expended most of her energy in remaining quiet. One slip-up, one muttered "Kageyama" and it was all over. She wouldn't be able to bear the humiliation if he discovered her identity and turned her down.
Reiko started jiggling doorknobs, desperate for some place more private. It became her dragging him down the hallway rather than him escorting her by this point.
"Your Majesty, I am not this type of..." Kageyama was mumbling then, beads of perspiration making themselves known on his forehead. "Unless of course, you wish it of me. Then...then I wouldn't dare insult you..."
How sweet, Reiko thought. Kageyama the gentleman didn't normally have sex on a first date, not even with his fantasy woman. Hmm, she thought. Neither did Hosho Reiko. But this wasn't really a first date. Not when she'd known him as long as she had, all the months she'd spent equal parts frustrated and confused by him. Not when she finally had the opportunity for that poison tongue of his to do something more productive.
Finally one of the doors gave way, and Reiko hurried them inside. Kageyama found a chain, giving it a firm tug and turning on a single light bulb. Reiko was desperate not to betray her disappointment. Instead of one of the nice changing rooms she'd been in earlier that day, she and Kageyama were now situated in a supply closet. She'd almost stepped in the janitor's bucket upon pulling him into the room. Well, no matter. This would simply have to do.
She defiantly closed the door, turning around to face him. He was leaning heavily against the metal shelving unit on the front wall, looking way too proper in his butler uniform and bow tie given the shelves of turpentine and rags behind him. She tossed her prop sword aside, seeing Kageyama jump as it hit the floor with a crash.
"Have I displeased you in some way?"
She shook her head, hands on her hips impatiently. He continued to stare at her, breathing heavily. She'd definitely unnerved him now, and she relished the sight of Kageyama in such a frenzied panic. He was used to being in charge when it came to their dealings. But not for Queen Q. Never for Queen Q.
Oh, curse series three, episode fifteen. The urge to shout out "take me now" or some other melodramatic phrase that Reiko openly mocked (and secretly adored when she snuck a peek at a romance novel or three) was growing. Instead she took one hand, moving it to the top of her corset. She placed one finger in the middle of the Union Jack, from the soft, rounded tops of her breasts where they perched at the corset's top and dragged her finger down, down, down. Kageyama's eyes followed that finger with complete concentration. She paused at the bottom where the material slightly flared.
"Your Majesty, it would be an honor and a privilege."
If only she had a tape recorder. His sycophantic mumblings would be something to give her comfort in the days to come when he reverted to his condescending, smarmy self. If only he spoke to her this way in all things. But her complaints were soon ignored when he approached her, sending her heart racing as he went down to his knees before her. Definitely something the Kageyama she knew would never dream of doing, much as it was his job to defer to her.
He yanked off his convention attendee lanyard and tossed it aside, then bent forward, steadying his hand on the floor beside her right foot as he brought his lips to the red patent leather. He was kissing her boot! When he looked up, most likely at her reflexive intake of breath, his eyes were rather wild behind his frames. As though he'd finally captured his beloved Queen Q, like he was the real hero in this tale. She'd allow it, if he continued what he'd started. She merely nodded in agreement, chastising herself for nearly giving up the game.
He made his way up, pressing slow, reverent kisses to her ankle, her calf, halting at her knee where the boot left off and her bare leg began. He moved to her left foot instead, kissing his way up once more. To be lavished with such attention, such out and out worship, was boiling her blood and sending it all to her core, to the growing impatient sensation between her legs.
And then his lips were on skin, and she shut her eyes. Her helmet thunked back against the door in a decidedly unsexy fashion, but Kageyama paid it no mind, his mouth paying homage to the front, back, and sides of her thighs, his head vanishing under the puffy white fabric of her skirt. A normal person would take off the mask, take off the stifling helmet, but Reiko could do none of these things. Instead she could only bite her lip, hands reaching to either side of her and finding sturdier holds on the other shelves in the cramped little closet.
You're about to have sex with your butler in a janitor's room, Reiko thought in alarm. Have you no shame?
But then he was stroking her legs, soft as a feather, with his fingertips, and she stopped worrying. "Your Majesty," she heard him say as his head reemerged from under the swell of her skirt. He looked up at her expectantly, sliding his glasses off and getting to his feet. She watched, her vision still ridiculously dark in the stupid mask, as he set them down gently on one of the shelves behind him. "Shall I proceed?" he asked in almost the same tone of voice he used when he was about to set down another plate before her at the dining table.
She nodded, helmet awkwardly thunking again. He crouched down, fingers sliding up her legs again to find the lacy fabric of her panties. Thank goodness she'd gone with these instead of her usual utilitarian pairs that went with her work suits. It had only been to go with the costume, but she was utterly grateful for her fashion consciousness earlier that day. His fingers teasingly stroked along the damp material before he gave them a light tug, slowly pulling them down her legs, helping her to step out of them.
If she was losing something, he had to discard something too. How many nights had Reiko lain awake wishing Kageyama would dress down once in a while around the house? Keeping hold of the shelves on either side, she lifted her leg and nudged at his suit jacket with her foot. He obediently got to his feet once more, her panties in his hand. She watched him slip them into his jacket pocket before sliding the jacket off his shoulders entirely, leaving him in his black and white striped waistcoat, his starched and pressed white dress shirt, and that darned bow tie.
With his usual care, he gently perched the jacket atop one of the mops, not daring to let his precious clothing touch the floor. He approached again, desire obvious in his dark brown eyes. Eyes that were usually hidden behind his frames were now on full display, searching for the real woman behind the mask. But lest he discover her, Reiko put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him back down to his knees.
He chuckled a bit. "Forgive my presumption, Your Majesty. I am yours to command."
Oh, to hear those words from Kageyama at any other time! Reiko's life would be so much easier. Tightening her grip on the shelves to her sides, wrapping her red-gloved fingers around the metal so desperately that she knew there'd be markings on her palms the following day, Reiko slowly widened her stance, shutting her eyes and willing herself not to cry out. Because all too soon Kageyama's mouth was there, with gentle kisses and the startling sensation of his tongue against her sex for the first and, god willing, not the last time.
This was what was missing from her life. All those hours in his company, him always leaning so precariously forward to insult her when he'd have been better off kissing her. For now that mouth of his was kissing elsewhere, his gentle fingers parting her to allow his tongue better access. Her legs began to shake already, reveling in the expert ministrations of Kageyama's mouth against her, as though he was surely meant to be there.
His name forced its way into her throat, and she desperately clamped down on the urge to cry out when his tongue began its torturous teasing against her clit. And yes, she leaned back against the closet door with another unpleasant thunk of the god forsaken helmet. "Kageyama!" her brain screamed. "Oh yes, Kageyama, don't stop!" Queen Q merely let out a shuddering, almost disbelieving breath.
And he didn't stop, his mouth lavishing her with attention as she struggled to stay upright. It was Kageyama's mouth, Kageyama the man who insulted her on the regular and made such a tasty salmon mousse. She allowed one hand to let go of the shelf, moving it to awkwardly rest atop his head where it lay completely hidden beneath her skirt. Her body shook as he none-too-politely brought her hurriedly to a climax. She couldn't moan, couldn't beg for more. She could only lean back, mouth open in shock as Kageyama thoroughly worshiped his beloved Queen Q through her shuddering orgasm.
Before she could breathe again with any sort of efficiency he was up on his feet with his arms around her. He rested his hands on the back of the Union Jack, and when he kissed her mouth she was slightly embarrassed and slightly impressed to taste her own sweetness on his lips. She shouldn't have granted him this, and she only had to stomp down on his foot with the heel of her boot if she wished it, but being kissed by Kageyama was too good to pass up. He slipped his tongue past her lips, and if he was annoyed when his forehead bumped against the helmet, he did not voice it.
Being the Queen and obviously in charge, she didn't dare lose her chance. Her gloves weren't too cumbersome, and she yanked at the buttons of his waistcoat, feeling him wince in pure butler horror as some of them were separated from the fabric and went scattering across the floor, lodging under some nasty bucket. Waistcoat undone, Reiko went for his belt next. It slipped through the loops with ease, Kageyama obediently standing while she undressed him. She untucked his shirt and pulled the zipper of his slacks down.
Perhaps he couldn't see her eyes behind her mask, but it was all too obvious what she wanted. Leaving the surety of the shelves, Reiko allowed him to hoist her, her back hitting the door with such force that she nearly abandoned her silence. Even in the hazy light her mask afforded she could see him before her, Kageyama about to fulfill his long-time fantasy.
And to think, he didn't have to solve a mystery first.
He positioned himself, and with her so ready for him thanks to his kind exertions, she could only smile and wrap her legs around him as he buried himself within her. "Kageyama," she wanted to moan. "Kageyama, finally." She bit her lip desperately to keep from crying out, settling for a soft moan that blended with his own. Hopefully he didn't notice the sound of her voice. He was so much stronger than he looked, keeping her raised up with seemingly little trouble as he moved against her.
She was thoroughly pinned between him and the door, her breath coming in shallow little gasps as he moved. His face was against her neck, his hot breaths tickling her skin. It was Kageyama, Reiko reminded herself as her fingers pulled roughly at his hair, tugging at the roots. It was Kageyama doing this to her, making her feel so perfect. He was at just the right angle, and with one particularly forceful thrust against her she was gone again, crying out in surprise at his masterful ability to make her come.
"Your Majesty," he murmured, nearly out of breath. "I don't want to make a mess of things..." But she refused to let him go, to let him be anywhere but inside her. She was still lost in her euphoria, and she clung to him as he came himself.
He stilled his movements, looking up and into her eyes. Well, where her eyes technically were hiding behind her mask. There was a sweaty sheen on his face, and she could only imagine that she looked far more disheveled, given how forcefully he'd just exerted himself against and within her. He gently squatted down as he withdrew from her, allowing her to set the heels of her boots back on solid ground.
Well, Reiko thought, realizing again how surrounded they were by cleaning supplies and old mops. This had been one of the more impulsive moves of her life, if not the most impulsive. She found herself grinning as Kageyama stumbled around, squinting a bit until he retrieved his glasses.
She could barely move, her legs still shaking from his skillful attentions. Her mouth went dry as he set his glasses back on, buttoning what buttons on his waistcoat remained after her lack of care. Kageyama, his usually neat hair having fallen across his brow and his shirt untucked, was the most beautiful thing she'd ever laid eyes on, with the exception of herself on several occasions. Kageyama, who'd probably never forget his very special night with the incomparable "Queen Q."
"Your Majesty," he said, retrieving one of his stray buttons. "I do sincerely apologize for any rough handling."
She shook her head, shakily grabbing the sword from the floor where she'd thrown it. No need to apologize at all, she decided, her body feeling so loved after his thorough claiming of her.
"Might I escort you to..." Kageyama looked slightly embarrassed. "May I take you home, wherever that might be?"
Reiko's anger emerged briefly at the thought of Kageyama having driven over here in the limo - the limo that was solely in existence to ferry her about. She waved the sword at the door, gesturing for him to take his leave of her first. She did have to get her clothes, after all.
He bowed low to her before taking her gloved hand in his own. He pressed a delicate kiss to her knuckles before stepping back and exiting the room. She gave him a head start, her mind still swimming with the pleasurable and all too fleeting experience. Reiko very nearly floated down the hallway, finally retrieving a member of the staff who allowed her into the dressing room.
Despite the earlier rage the stupid costume had put her in, she now felt a slight sadness as she slipped off the gloves, undid the clasps on the front of the Union Jack and maneuvered clumsily behind her back to unlace the corset and slide it off. When she was back in the work suit she'd arrived in, her hair flattened and lifeless after a day's endurance inside the helmet, she just didn't feel right.
Oh well, she told herself, blushing at the way her suit pants clung to her. Kageyama had walked out the door with her panties in his pocket, and that was enough to make her feel better.
With one last glance in her pocket mirror, she shouldered her bag and headed for the door. It seemed that the costume ball had ended, and all of the day's guests were departing. Since Reiko hadn't heard anything suspicious, it was just another convention day, and all the manga artists had stayed relatively safe under her watch.
She opened her bag, pulling out her cell phone, tucking her hair behind her ear and hoping that she wasn't giving off the impression that she'd just done something incredibly dirty inside the confines of the convention hall. She took a deep breath and was just about to press the 'send' button to call Kageyama when she heard a throat clear behind her.
Reiko turned, seeing Kageyama there, back in his glasses and not one hair askew. If he'd swapped out his waistcoat she couldn't tell, seeing as how he'd rebuttoned his jacket over it. She nearly jumped back at the sight of him but did her best to stand her ground.
"Oh! Kageyama," she said, attempting to sound casual and surprised to see him. "I was just about to call you."
"My lady, I was attending the convention here on the day off you so generously granted me." Yet there was none of the reverence in his voice that he'd saved for Queen Q earlier.
She slipped her phone back in her bag, not meeting his eyes. "I hope you had a good time," she told him, though if she was smart they'd just get in the limo and head home with no further discussion.
"I did indeed," he said, holding out his hand and gesturing for her to walk with him to the convention center parking lot.
They walked in silence a few moments before Kageyama spoke again. "Might I inquire as to why you were here, my lady?"
"Work," she managed to choke out, wondering if he could smell sex on her. He was the world's most perceptive butler after all. "Just looking for suspicious persons."
But no, Kageyama didn't seem at all affected by the sight (or smell) of her, and he politely held the rear limo door open for her. When they were on the road, she caught his eye as he looked back at her in the rearview mirror. "I thought I'd seen Inspector Kazamatsuri's car earlier today. Glad to know I wasn't mistaken."
"Mm," she said, feeling herself blush at the attention from his eyes. Now she couldn't count on the mask between those eyes and her own. She couldn't help resting her hands on her thighs, desperate to stay in control. But all she could do for the remainder of the ride was look at Kageyama's hands on the steering wheel, at his lips in the rearview mirror if she tilted her neck the slightest bit.
He pulled the limo into the drive back at the house, holding her door again. She'd had him, had him the whole evening. She'd tricked him totally, convincingly. And now perhaps she ought to claim her victory, that she'd finally gotten one over on Kageyama of all people. Surely he'd be impressed with her cunning, her audacity. Perhaps he'd reward her with another Queen Q-style session, but this time she'd be able to make a bit more noise, revel in the feeling of his touch all the more.
Reiko was mere seconds away from bragging when Kageyama moved to turn the housekey in the lock. Instead he turned around, standing back against the door.
She crossed her arms. "I've been in a convention hall full of stinky men most of the day, Kageyama. Let me inside!"
He leaned forward, moving to whisper in her ear. "You do realize you are nearly a full inch taller than the real Queen Q, don't you? Not that I'm complaining, my lady."
And with that he turned back around and unlocked the front door, holding it open with a wicked glimmer in his eye.