FIC FOR SUGIEX part 3
For: sugiex
From: yumemirunosekai
Title: Post Tenebras, Lux (Part 3)
Pairings/Characters: Kamenashi Kazuya/Ueda Tatsuya (main), Taguchi Junnosuke, Tanaka Koki, Toda Erika (side)
Rating: NC 17+
Warnings: blood, violence, gore, angst, AU, sci-fi
Notes: My first attempt at an AU/sci-fi fic. This a KAT-TUN gen fic with a side of KameDa. The personality I chose for Kame is Shuuji's real personality (the one that surfaces when he's with Akira, all prickly and whatnot) I have to emphasise that I tried to make this fic as close to reality as possible, in favour of my recipient, so expect less fluff and more… well. Reality.
Summary: Post Tenebras, Lux. ‘From Darkness, Light.’ The Red Plague has wiped out almost half the world’s population. Kame is a typical high school student who wants the easy way out of things, choosing to live in his own little world and ignore reality. When the lockdown sequence begins, he is thrown into another world where humans are animals, and killing seems to become a second nature. This is not a story of adventure, but reality.
part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5
Phase 3: Leviathan
Ueda tackles the situation differently from what Kame expects. He doesn't rush out Rambo-style, blade drawn and guns blazing. He merely throws open the door, face hard and unreadable. Kame hangs a fair distance behind him with Nakamaru and Taguchi (Koki had gone to check the back door) but he doesn't feel like he's being protected or anything because Ueda being half a centimetre shorter than him saves him the embarrassment of looking like a weak little girl.
Ueda is silent as he watches the faces of the people outside. Kame can see that it's a group of men, some young and some older, probably in their mid-twenties or mid forties. They are all wearing sleeveless tanks and biker jackets, paired with skinny jeans and motorcycle boots. The hundreds and thousands of tattoos depicting demons of all kinds make them look like a band of walking murals.
"Look's like th' place is already taken, it seems,” the biggest man says, and Kame can smell the cigarette smoke on the man's putrid breath. “But I'm sure you good lads definitely got room for more?"
Kame's dislike for the group is immediate. He doesn't trust him, and hopes that Ueda isn't so stupid as to let these men in.
"Sorry boys," Ueda says in a mock flirtatious voice that makes Kame do a double take and stare gaping like a fish at him. There is a thin smile on his lips, and the cold fire in his eyes makes Kame cringe. "But there isn't. Now why don't you all be good little boys and fuck off my property."
There is a brief silence at Ueda's words, but then the horrid man laughs, spit flying from his open mouth that houses rows of yellowing teeth. "You watch that pretty little mouth of yours there,” he rasps, a murderous gleam in his eyes. "Now I'm ain't asking' ya. Let us in, and maybe we all can have a nice round of booze and forget you ever said anything, eh?"
“No,” says Ueda, and from where Kame stands, he can see Ueda's right hand tighten around the hilt of his butterfly knife in his back pocket. "I told you that there isn't any place for you lot. Now seriously, fuck off or-"
"Or what, pretty?" says another man. He's thin and lean, with a sagging belly and hairy legs. There is a pedophillic look about him, and it disgusts Kame to the bone. The hairy-legged man steps up until he's right in Ueda's face. He's too close. He's too close. Kame feels something akin to suicidal for no reason at all, and he wants nothing better than to grab Ueda away, or perhaps slam his fist in the man's ugly face.
"Y'know, I've seen you somewhere before," the man says, scratching the bottom of his chin. His other hand shoots out and grabs Ueda's chin, tilting his angular face this way and that. "Where have I seen…"
Kame's heart stops. Why isn't Ueda doing anything? Why is he letting them touch him with their filthy hands and foul breath? "Fuck it." Kame hisses, and ignores Nakamaru's hand frantically gabbing hold of his collar, pulling him back. He tugs and finally Nakamaru lets go, with a strangled rasp of, "Kamenashi!"
"Kame!" Taguchi hisses. "Don't!"
Kame lurches forwards, and accidentally bumps into Ueda's back. Ueda wrenches his face out of the hairy man's grip and turns. "Shit," he curses when he sees Kame behind him. He tries to shield Kame from view, but to no avail.
"Now, that looks tempting,” says one of men, stepping up upon seeing Kame. He is heavily tattooed with a thick bushy beard. The predatory look in his eyes make Kame's insides twist uncomfortably.
Soon all attention is focused solely on Kame, who immediately feels like a lone lamb trapped by a pack of wolves. Ueda's entire body tenses. "Get the fuck back in, Kamenashi,” he hisses.
Somehow, this only annoys Kame, because he isn't some weak in the knees girl who needs to be protected. "Screw you,” Kame bites out. "I'm not some damsel who needs you to be fucking prince charming." Or more like prince asshole, adds Kame mentally.
"I tell you what," the hairy man says, still way too close to Ueda. "You hand us that kid over there, and we walk away in peace. How 'bout that?"
The fear makes Kame's guts freeze and shatter into a million tiny shards that dig into his flesh. He doesn't really know Ueda all that well yet. What if he decides to throw Kame to the men? There would be no way to escape. Kame shivers at the mere thought of what they could do to him if Ueda gave him up.
Ueda doesn't answer, and for several seconds Kame's entire body is all tensed to spring. He'd leap away the minute Ueda tries to make a grab for him.
“Tempting," Ueda says. "I do choose to avoid unnecessary trouble, but… no thanks." Ueda shrugs and Kame releases a breath he doesn't remember holding. "He's a very useful kid, and I don't just waste useful things."
Somehow, that final sentence doesn't reassure Kame in the least.
“Shame," says the biggest man, and he reaches for a steel pipe lying on the top of a pile of garbage. "I thought we could avoid trouble too."
Ueda doesn't waste time. In a second there is a sudden glimmer in the dark, and the hairy-legged man is stumbling backward, clutching at his face and screaming. Ueda proceeds to kick him in the nuts and moves rapidly on to the next adversary.
Behind him, Taguchi and Nakamaru rush out, brandishing broken glass bottles and pieces of wood. They attack the fatter, slower men who are easily taken down with a smack to the head. Kame notes that they are not as smooth or as skilled as Ueda, limbs clumsy and attacks weaker, but effective regardless.
Kame is grabbed by a random man, and the feel of greasy flesh against skin makes him want to retch. The additional probability of the man possibly being infected by the Red Plague spurs him into action quicker, and trying hard to recall what little scrap of karate he'd learnt as a kid, Kame elbows the man in the gut. He doubles over, choking. Kame doesn't wait before turning around, grabbing the hunched man by the shoulders and slamming his knee into his face.
There is a sick cracking sound, and Kame realises that he may have broken the man's nose, and hopefully several teeth. He feels an odd sense of accomplishment when the man slumps to the ground unconscious. He turns just in time to see Ueda hoist a thin man up by the collar and punch him between the eyes.
Ueda swings around to slam his fist into the next man, and as he does so, something silver and sparkly flies out of his jeans pocket. It lands several feet away from Kame, who makes a move to pick it up, but the pot bellied-hairy man reaches it first. There is a bloody cut on his face (probably where Ueda slashed at him).
The man squints at the silver object, which now Kame notices is a worn silver crucifix, and his beady eyes widen, a twisted smirk curls at his ugly lips. He cackles. Softly at first, but it reaches a crescendo that makes everyone stop fighting to stare. When Ueda catches sight of his pendant in the man's hand, Kame watches as his eyes widen in horror, and his hand hastily feels at his back pocket, most likely to confirm if the object really did fall from there.
"It's a small world we live in, eh?" the hairy-legged man snickers nastily, and Kame wonders what bullshit he is spouting.
Ueda's face is almost white with rage, and the hand clenched around the hilt of his butterfly knife trembles. "Give it back," he says, and his voice is barely a whisper.
The man merely laughs, and swings the pendant lazily between his fingers, mocking, taunting Ueda. "It's a wonder why I thought I'd seen you before," continues the man. "You're that slut from JE - that all men's whorehouse, aren’t you?”
If Ueda looked angry earlier, there are no words to explain the fury that boils within him now. Ueda's face turns from pale to ashen, and underneath the roiling anger is shock, and well disguised panic. The amount of control Ueda has over himself is applaudable, especially in this situation. "Give it back," he repeats hoarsely.
Kame is puzzled, and so are Nakamaru and Taguchi. What did the man mean by ‘slut’? ‘JE’? ‘whorehouse’? What did he mean?
"Ueda, what the hell is going on?"
Koki had emerged, just in time to catch the words 'whorehouse' and 'JE'.
"JE?" Kame repeats, confused.
"Shut up." Ueda spits, not looking at Kame.
"So, Ueda's your name, huh?" the man continues, fingers still playing absently with Ueda's pendent. "If I remember right, you were called 'Butterfly'. What did you do to your hair? I preferred your long hair better, Butterfly. It was easier to hold on to while I shoved my dick down that pretty little mouth."
Kame swallows. He isn't sure what the man was saying. Is he using a metaphor? If so, it's a very disgusting and degrading one.
"You were good, I'll say. The best fuck I've ever had. Pity you didn't enjoy it. If I remember, I think I might have forgotten to use the lube provided,” The man laughs, and his voice and words pierce Kame like an arrow. "You were holding so tight onto this thing here." he holds up at silver pendent. "That's why I remember you. It was a fucking hilarious sight!"
The poison words appear to be true, because Ueda's face becomes paler and paler, until he looks almost sickly. "Give it back,” he repeats once again, like a broken record on the verge of dying.
"You look as fuckable as ever, Butterfly,” the man rasps, eyes roving around Ueda's taut, muscled body, and takes a step forward. Kame expects Ueda to strike, or maybe scream or yell, but he doesn't. To Kame's horror, Ueda is unmoving. The butterfly knife in his fingers is still shaking, but now from fear rather than anger. To see Ueda scared frightened Kame, but also made a bubbling urge to protect him explode within.
Ueda is a prostitute. Was. The sentence inputs itself into Kame's brain, as he reaches down to pick up a rock, its sharp and jagged edge lethal and deadly. He retracts his arm. Baseball has always been his favourite sport. Heck, he is perhaps the best player in his school. So Kame doesn't hesitate when he launches the rock with all his might at the man advancing on Ueda.
The rock hits him on the side of the head with a sickening thud. There is a cracking sound and a short gasp, and the man is lying face first on the ground, palms up. Ueda's silver pendant gleams in the dim light of the flickering street lamps, but he makes no move to pick it up. He just stares at it, seemingly mesmerised.
Kame walks up to Ueda. He looks down at the hairy-legged man, presumably dead, and if not he'll most likely bleed to death. Kame realises that he's probably killed someone, but he feels no remorse. The man hurt Ueda. He hurt Ueda, and therefore must be punished. It was as simple as that.
The rest of the still conscious raiders scramble away hurriedly with their tails between their legs at this sight, until only Kame and the others are left. Kame bends down and picks up Ueda's pendant, tangled between the man's stubby fingers. The silver is smooth between his own. He hands it to Ueda, who doesn't take it.
"Don't put that filthy thing in my face." Ueda says. Kame notes how lifeless Ueda's expression is - dead and defeated looking. He doesn't look at Kame again, nor anyone else for that matter. Almost mechanically, he slips his butterfly knife into his back pocket and walks robotically into the brothel. He brushes past Koki, who takes one look at the raw emotions displayed on his face and decides to save his comments for later.
It's eons before anyone speaks.
"Did you know-" begins Taguchi.
“No," Nakamaru says. "Anyway, we shouldn't judge Ueda just because of this."
"But we know that it's true though,” Koki cuts in. "I saw his face. There's no way what that bastard said was a lie, as much as I'd like to deny it."
Kame doesn't say anything. So much has been revealed to him about Ueda in this short time with him. That look on Ueda's face was one that sent a thousand daggers through Kame, and he never wants to see it again. The rawness, the look of a man who so meticulously built walls around himself, hiding behind them, keeping those torturous memories at bay, shrouding the secrets that could ruin him… Ueda has his stripped down, down until he's left raw and painful and hurting with nothing left.
"Come on, let's go in before more uninvited guests spot us,” Nakamaru says, and ushers a confused Taguch and Koki into the brothel. "Kame? C'mon."
Kame can't help but feel that Nakamaru's natural parent-like approach is the best thing that can happen at this moment. They need something to lean on, something or someone solid and concrete, and Nakamaru ticked all the boxes. Kame stares down at the dull silver crucifix. It's very pretty.
"Throw that away,” says Nakamaru. “You heard Ueda. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. I think it’s best you get rid of it.”
Kame thinks for a moment, letting the cold silver chain slide around in his palm, before slipping the pendant, chain and all into his pocket. He enters the brothel and Nakamaru bolts the door, and it's quiet quiet quiet.
It's just quiet.
///
“I knew it,” Koki says once they are all in the brothel, doors bolted and secure. “I knew there was something off about him the minute I met him. Jesus Christ, what was I thinking? The man’s shelter is a fucking brothel! That should have triggered alarm bells for fuck’s sake!”
Koki kicks over a random chair angrily, and Kame winces at the noise.
“That’s not fair, Koki,” Nakamaru says reasonably. “Ueda isn’t a bad person. He must have his reasons why he-” Nakamaru gestures weakly at the air around him. “-chose this life. We have no right to judge him harshly. He took us in after all.”
Koki lets out a derisive laugh. “Reasons? What possible reason is there for someone to sell their body?”
“Hey, shut up.” Taguchi interrupts, his face twisted into a look Kame recognises as pained. “Nakamaru is right. We have no right to say such things about him.”
“Where is he anyway?” Koki growls, scanning the room and flexing his fingers. “I’ll strangle an explanation out of him.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” says Kame, suddenly feeling incredibly annoyed with Koki. “I think you should sit down and cool off. I’m not liking your prejudices at all. First it’s elites, next is prostitutes. So what if you hate them? This isn’t exactly the time to act like a fucking child.”
Koki rounds on Kame immediately. And the sheer fury on his face should be enough to send anyone away with their tails between their legs, but Kame holds his ground. “So you have beef with elites and prostitutes, fine by me, but at least hear people out before you charge onto them like an enraged bull with all horns and no rational thought.”
For a minute there, Kame is sure Koki is about to punch him, he braces for the impact, but Koki’s shoulders sag, and he immediately looks smaller and less intimidating. “I don’t…act like a child,” he mutters, and Kame exhales quietly with a shuddering breath. Thank Christ Koki is just all talk because there is no way that he can take on the larger man.
“But I still hold my ground. Prostitutes are filth, and don’t tell me you think otherwise, Kame, because no one will believe you,” Koki says, the prejudiced gleam in his eye still ever-present.
Kame frowns. “Prostitutes are filthy,” Kame says, and he means it. “But Ueda is anything but that.”he spits.
Kame takes the silence that follows this as an indication that he has won this round.
///
The faint clink clink of Ueda's butterfly knife leads Kame to one of the many empty rooms in the brothel. Most of them are filled with kinky toys and ropes and chains, and Kame can't help the side thought of how can BDSM be considered sexy? He'd want to die if someone roped him up in that situation.
The room which Ueda is in his more decent looking. The light is dim, and the sheets of the bed look cleaner than the others. Ueda sits at the foot of the bed, fingers twirling his knife around. He doesn't look up when Kame enters. Kame doesn't knock, and saying, 'Hey, I just thought you'd like some company' sounds like a suicidal sentence in current circumstances. So Kame just walks in and sits next to Ueda, joining him in awkward silence.
Kame has never been this close to Ueda. He can practically feel the heat radiating off the latter's body next to him. It's several minutes before the clink clink of the butterfly knife stops. Kame had been so focused on the shadows of Ueda hand playing with the knife dancing on the dirty wall in front of him, that when the morphing patterns stopped, he is slightly startled. Kame turns to see Ueda watching him. The rawness is gone, healed and hardened into a diamond-like shield, concealing whatever emotions Kame had witnessed only hours before.
It's Kame who breaks eye contact first, because he can feel the heat rushing to his face with Ueda staring at him so intensely.
“What do you want?” Ueda asks, his tone as cold as ice. Kame suppresses the shudder that rides up his spine and forces himself to face Ueda. The man’s face is as smooth and as impermeable as steel, whatever rawness that was present only hours before completely masked behind walls that Kame can never tear down.
“I want to sit here,” Kame replies slowly, carefully. “You have a problem with that?”
“Yes.”
Okay, this is going to be hard. “Well, suck it up,” Kame retorts.
Ueda tenses, and he scrutinises Kame’s profile through narrowed eyes. “If you’re here to give some kind of motivational talk and tell me that it’s ‘okay to be what I am’ because ‘I have my reasons’, I am going to stab you.” Ueda says flatly.
“I never said I was,” Kame snaps back.
“Then tell me what you want,” Ueda says, letting his head flop backwards onto the bed. His spiky black hair rustles against the cheap sheets, and Kame finds himself wondering how it would feel like to run his fingers through the mess of soft black. “Please, just- just tell me what you want and leave.”
The plea brings Kame back to the present, and he stares, stupefied at Ueda’s strained expression. “I-” Kame gulps. “I want to sit here.” he repeats, swallowing thickly.
Ueda’s eyes snap towards Kame and they are like hard, cold diamonds. “You do know that I am a shameless wench, don’t you?”
Kame blinks. he doesn’t know whether to nod or shake his head, so he does nothing. Ueda lets out a strained cackle. “Look at you, sitting there like a fool. Aren’t you supposed to be with the rest of the freeloaders out there, having a cosy conversation along the lines of ‘I can’t believe I lived with a fucking whore all this time’?”
Kame shakes his head. “No one thinks poorly of you, Ueda,” Kame notes that Ueda flinches at the mention of his name. “They… I mean, Koki just need some time to adjust.”
Ueda snorts. “Don’t bullshit me, kid.” he snarls. “What ‘adjusting’ is there to do? Everyone out there thinks I’m lower than dirt.”
“I don’t,” Kame says almost immediately, and the look Ueda shoots him is one that is filled with such scorn, such derision, that something lodges itself in his throat.
"Then you are an idiot," Ueda finally snaps. "A fucking, stupid, fool. I clearly mistook your placement in the hierarchy of idiots, idiot.”
His voice is light, nonchalant, yet spiteful as he says this. Kame can feel himself bristling.
“I don’t judge people for what they are,” Kame hisses in defence. “I’m not an idiot for thinking like that, and I’m not that shallow, you ass. I don’t think you are low, and I don’t think you have no morals. What you did for us just proves that you aren’t that kind of person, and I fucking respect you for it, okay? So stop with your self deprecating nonsense.”
Ueda sighs loudly and he presses his face into his hands. Kame is taken aback by this, as he watches Ueda shaking his head roughly as he backs away from Kame, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop fucking with my mind, you little shit,” he says, voice tight and strained. “Get the fuck out before I do something I really regret.”
Kame is on a roll, and it’s too late for him to back down now. He’s in too deep and he knows he’s struck something in Ueda. Something that isn’t ripped to shreds by what the world has done to him. Kame wants to cry suddenly.
Ueda is a good person. He’s an ass, sure, but he’s a good person. It’s just not fair. “Don’t you dare run away,” Kame growls, and he’s now on his knees, his hands inches from grabbing Ueda’s shoulders and shaking him. Shake him until he gets it through his head that he’s not dirt. “Stop being such a coward!”
At this, Ueda’s head snaps up, and there is no warning when he advances on Kame, whose world is flipped upside down and he yelps sharply as his head collides with the hard floor of the room. His eyes are scrunched up in pain, and when he opens them, Ueda’s large, dilated ones are boring straight through him, and the coldness in them slices like a broken icicle.
Ueda's grip on his wrists is tight, pinning them to the sides of his head, and becoming tighter and tighter until Kame hisses in pain. One of Ueda's knees is pressed painfully into the soft, tender flesh of his thigh while the other is placed close to his waist, holding Kame down completely.
"Don't you find other prostitutes filthy?” Ueda asks softly, his eyes heavy lidded and dilated. “Don't you think 'what a disgraceful slut' when you see them, all tacky makeup and slutty clothes?"
His dark eyes that seem to stare straight into Kame's soul making the latter's breath hitch.
Kame isn’t prepared for this question, so he falters a little. Having Ueda pressed up right to him doesn’t really help either, but he doesn't need to think about his answer. "Yes, I do,” he rasps, throat dry. Ueda's crotch is pressed rather uncomfortably against his stomach, just below his navel, and Kame has trouble collecting his thoughts.
A strangely detached smirk works its way into Ueda’s features, which slowly turn into something that looks really terrifying. "I thought so." Ueda whispers, and it brushes over Kame like thousands of tiny stabs that bite and sting. “You little liar.”
The word Ueda almost spits at him lances and burns, and Kame breath hitches as he shakes his head violently. “I’m not ly-,” Kame begins, but Ueda cuts him off, with a curt ‘Shut the fuck up’. The feral gleam in his eyes makes Kame shiver, and in his vulnerable position, Kame can’t help the pinpricks of fear that crawl steadily up his throat.
Ueda tsks lightly, a crooked smile on his pale lips that look like colourless plush. “You are all the same.” he says quietly.
Kame breathes in sharply, autoatically bracing himself for a possible onslaught of insults, but to his utmost amazement, Ueda suddenly laughs, his eyes squishing close as he buries his head in the crook of Kame's neck, possibly by accident, because his entire body is shaking from laughter. Kame gulps. Ueda's every breath brushes the skin of his neck like feathery light kisses, and he curses the stupid wide collar of his shirt.
When Ueda finally lifts his head from Kame's neck, Kame prays that the traitorous blush that he's sure decorates his face has faded. "Sorry," Ueda says, his head hanging and breath coming out in short bursts of laughter. "You're funny. In all my years as a whore, I've never come across someone like you, and I was sure I'd seen everything the world has to offer."
Hearing Ueda label himself whore stings Kame more than when the other man said it. There is a kind of acceptance in the way Ueda says it that makes Kame want to slap the latter silly.
"What's with that look?" Ueda asks. He's stopped laughing, and is now staring down at Kame with his honey-brown eyes that seem to strip Kame bare to the bone. "I don't need you to pity me. The world isn't all rainbows and unicorns, and I'm used to it. So wipe that sappy look off your face."
Ueda's tone turns hard. Kame bites his bottom lip and turns his head to one side so that he's staring at the peeling paint of the wall rather than at Ueda's stupid face.
"You're just a kid," Ueda continues, and Kame wishes that he'd just shut up. "So don't go acting all understanding and grown up like you get me, because you most certainly do not."
"Y'know what? Screw you, Ueda,” Kame spits, his head snapping back to glare daggers at Ueda. "Why don't you like, shut up for once and stop faking shit so much. You act like you don't give a rat's fart about everything when you so obviously do, so do me a favour and you bloody stop trying to understand what I'm trying to do here, because it's clear to me that you can't."
Ueda’s eyes darken. “Watch your mouth.”
Kame gnashes his teeth fiercely. “Or else what?” he spits. Kame has had it with Ueda’s stubborn machoness. Why did he even try to talk to him? It was completely hopeless. “Are you going to stab me with your knife, you coward?” Ueda’s jaw tightens, and Kame knows he pushing way past the boundaries into the danger zone, and that now is perhaps a very good time to shut up, but he doesn’t.
“You keep running away from your problems, and fair enough if you say that I don’t understand what you went through in life, and I respect that, because yes, I have no idea what kind of hell you lived in. I’m clueless, ignorant, and you know what? I’m happy,” Kame doesn’t pause. “And people have been telling me over and over and over that shutting everything out and ignoring the problem isn’t the way to go around it. It’ll come back to bite you in the ass one day.”
Ueda’s gaze doesn’t grow any less predatory. “Wonderful. Are you giving me scholarly advice now?” Ueda laughs derisively. Then a look shutters over Ueda’s features which is so dark and sinister that it scares Kame, from the way an almost evil smile curls his lips to how his hands tighten around his wrists so hard it feels like they are about to snap off. “Not afraid huh? I’ll show you, you little…”
Kame feels it first, because it’s cold and sharp. He doesn’t known when Ueda managed to get his knife up against his throat. At once, the thrashes against Ueda’s hold sharply, bucking upwards. “Fuck you, Ueda. Don’t- Don’t you dare-”
But Ueda presses harder down, eyes glinting dangerously. Kame hisses, and he can feel something warm slither down the column of his throat. “You- Get the fu-” But Kame’s sentence is cut off when Ueda spits a harsh ‘Shut up, you conniving little fuck.’
Kame stops moving almost at once, because with the way Ueda is staring at him, what with those depthless eyes, he looks like he wants nothing more that to gut him alive, “Who the hell do you think you are, Kamenashi? You stalk in here, all high and mighty, and start throwing your weight about? I never asked for advice from you. I don’t need your Life Lessons 101, because you will never-” Ueda presses closer, knife still against the smoothness of Kame’s throat. “- ever, understand what my life was like before this.”
Kame squirms, because Ueda is heavy and the feel of a blade digging into your throat isn’t really ideal, but Ueda's hand tightens on his wrists, and Kame gasps in pain. Ueda takes this opportunity to pull the knife away and twirl it tauntingly at Kame’s face. “So you see, you aren’t the boss of me, and you certainly can’t tell me how to live my life. So what if I choose to shut it all out? That’s the whole point, you idiot. That’s how you survive in reality.”
Kame can't move, and he can't fucking breathe. The blade is inches away from his face, and Ueda doesn’t even seem to care. “Let me up, Ueda,” be bites out, voice tight. “I’m done playing this stupid game with you in denial.”
Okay, wrong thing to say, because the knife is up against his throat again, just below his Adam’s apple. “Try saying that again,” Ueda snarls. “Give me a reason.”
The blade slips into his soft skin, and it fucking hurts. Kame wants this to stop, and he tries to say so, perhaps throw in a few choice words as well at Ueda for jumping him like this. Or perhaps Kame should knee him in the balls. Yeah, that would be ideal. His protests come out in whimpers, and Kame begins to panic when Ueda doesn't remove the blade that is slowly, slowly, breaking the skin.
His breathing quickens, and he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, which make him feel angry and scared and vulnerable all at once. Ueda drags the blade slightly, cutting deeper. Another strangled whimper escapes him, and this time, it sounds more like a sob, a plea for Ueda to stop, because Kame hates this, and he really hates Ueda now.
Ueda must have heard it, snapping him out of his psychotic trance, because he stops immediately and pulls his hand away hastily and stares down at Kame, who is breathing so hard and fast it comes out sounding like a cross between high-pitched sobs and pants. Ueda is also breathing heavily, and his dark, heavy lidded eyes scan Kame's face, grazing across the two red lines against his throat and stopping at his too-bright eyes, wet with unshed tears.
Kame is glaring, or trying his best to not show fear. He is still at Ueda's mercy, and he hates the feeling. Ueda's gaze suddenly turns apologetic and unusually intense. He releases one of Kame's wrists, and instead of slapping Ueda across the face like he so terribly wants to, Kame scrubs his eyes violently because he can't cry in front of Ueda. He won't.
Ueda's hand that pries Kame's hand away from his face is gentle and almost loving. He brushes away the tiny pinpricks of tears that collected at the corners of Kame's eyes. "I'm sorry," Ueda says, and he sighs heavily, proceeding to massage his temples.
Ueda gets off Kame, who doesn't move because he's trembling and is still too shaken up to really do anything. Ueda had really frightened him back there. A strong arm helps him sit up, and Kame obliges.
Ueda is still looking at him, gaze gentle and slight regret evident on his face. Kame blinks rapidly, his breathing is still quick, and he feels like he's having a heart attack. He stares warily at that cursed butterfly knife that held his life in it’s invisible hands just moments ago, and makes a mental note to remember that a pissed off Ueda is a murderous Ueda.
Ueda takes Kame's hands into his own, and Kame automatically tires to jerk it out. The bruises that circle his wrists are like blue-black butterflies that stand out against his pale skin under the dim light. Ueda begins to gently massage them. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, and doesn't look at Kame, but concentrates on his sore wrists. "I'm sorry. I just-"
"Forget it." Kame says, and he's amazed that he can still speak, because he feels like he'd just swallowed a bagful of sand. He reaches up to press at the cuts along his throat. "Just… Don’t you ever- Never- Never do that again.“
Ueda swallows, and Kame is shell shocked to see the regret that swims in those dark dilated eyes. “I- I didn’t mean to. Honest. It’s just that you-” Ueda growls and runs a hand through his hair. “I was just so mad. I honesty wanted to hurt you then and there. I didn’t care how.” Ueda sighs, and moves Kame’s hand to check on the cuts. Thankfully, they were not serious.
Kame gulps. Okay, perhaps pushing Ueda like that wasn’t called for. “It’s partly my fault as well. I shouldn’t have butted in. You’re right. It’s none of my business.” Kame says slowly, his eyes darting uneasily to scan Ueda’s face. “I just wanted to see if you were doing fine after… what that man said, as cliche as it sounds.” Kame shakes his head and looks away. “I didn’t know things would escalate like that though.”
Ueda licks his dry lips and he can’t look at Kame. “I- Do you hate me?” he asks quietly, suddenly very childlike and scared. It was amazing how quickly Ueda shifted from one persona to the next. It was weird, but Kame hardly cared about that.
"Of course I hate you,” Kame snaps, eyes blazing. "You were this close to slicing into my arteries, you prat!”
Ueda looks away. “I- Sorry. I’m just sorry, alright?” He then turns rapidly to face Kame. “Here.” Ueda takes Kame’s hand and guides it to his face. “Hit me if you want.”
Kame frowns, but ignores the offer and pulls his hand away from Ueda’s skin. “I’m not going to do that. Don’t be retarded,” Kame sighs, “Since I already hate you, I don’t think there is a need to look like someone kicked you in the balls, is there?” Kame continues, hating how blank Ueda looks.
It takes awhile, but Ueda finally manages to crack a sliver of a smile, and Kame releases a sigh of relief upon seeing it. It is small, but still a smile nonetheless. “You think I care what you think of me?” he retorts, and Kame’s heart soars at the slight asshole-ness that creeps back into Ueda’s tone.
“It should,” he says, tone challenging. “After what you did, I’m expecting compensation. There was no call for you to have that stupid clink-y knife thing and threaten my life. You could seriously scare people half to death with stunts like that”
“There was no call for you to butt into business that is none of your concern, just like you said,” Ueda bites back, and it’s more annoyance than anger.
“I saved your life,” Kame counters, and there is a grin on his face now. “You owe me.”
“Yeah, and you found out I let people fuck me for a living,” Ueda snorts, and rolls his eyes. “Isn’t that enough?”
Kame flinches, and the playfulness is gone in a heartbeat. How can Ueda be so self-deprecating and sound so- so fine about it? He shifts uncomfortably, and fumbles for a comeback, but there isn’t one. There is none in this situation because Kame doesn’t want to throw what Ueda is back in his face. It just… It just hurts for some reason.
“Cat got your tongue?” Ueda asks, a lazy smile decorating his face.
Kame swats Ueda’s head and scrambles to his feet, wanting to put as much distance between that devilish smile and himself as possible. Kame thinks that he must be some sick freak to actually feel so ridiculously fluffy and warm all of a sudden, but hey, Ueda’s smiles tend to have that effect, thank you very much.
Ueda laughs at Kame flustered look. “I think I should do this a lot more just to see you look like that,” Ueda says, looking thoughtful. “It’s interesting, the different faces you have. I kinda want to see them all.”
Kame throws the closest thing he can grab at, which is a pillow on the floor. “That’s gross.” He grimaces, “Don’t say weird things like that.”
Ueda makes a face and pushes the pillow away. “I was just saying that you’re cute. That’s not wrong, is it?”
Kame turns a bright crimson and looks away. “Whatever,” He mutters, making his way to the door, because he needs to get away from Ueda for awhile. Too much Ueda in 24 hours tends to make him feel like melting into a puddle of goo.
"But seriously," Kame says over his shoulder. "You do that again, I will kick you in the fucking balls until they retreat so far up to where they originally came from that they’ll never come down. No holds barred.” And with that, Kame half runs out of the room. He isn’t sure if this was a successful mission, but at least he got Ueda to feel a little better.
Ueda is left in the cold room, staring at the dancing shadows on the wall with a thoughtful expression on his face.
///
As for Kame, there is another thought on his mind that is more worrying that Ueda’s almost going bat shit crazy on him, which was more along the lines of ‘he was so close, I could have kissed him’. The fact that his face is growing redder and redder by the passing second doesn’t help the situation in the least.
Phase 4: Beelzebub
Kame would be dancing a little jig of success if he weren't so shaken up.
Why did Ueda have to go assault him? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy why?
He shivers.
However, he is strangely happy that Ueda is more or less back to his normal self a few days later.
Koki had apologised first, if it could be considered an apology. The man basically walked up to Ueda one day and punched him square in the face. Ueda who had been sitting cross-legged on the bar had fallen backwards, crashing into the floor. ‘NEXT TIME DON’T HIDE THINGS FROM YOUR FRIENDS, STUPID’ was what he had yelled.
Ueda had launched back up, and thanked Koki for his kind gesture with a right hook that caught him across the face. ‘FUCK YOU. YOU AREN’T MY FRIEND.’ was what he had said in return.
Kame had been terrified that a real fight might break out, but to his utmost disbelief, two minutes later, the two men were playing cards and yelling profanities at one another over a round of strip poker, much to his horror, because Ueda had stripped down to his tight jeans, taut muscles and sinewy flesh gleaming under the dim lighting of the bar.
Okay, everything seems normal. Everything except Kame, that is.
He isn’t going to lie that what Ueda did to him that night was frightening, if he really needed a word to describe it.
He sits like a tensed spring on one of the couches and stares, or rather, glares at the wall in front of him. Thoughts along the lines of ‘Ueda is a stupid asshole, why did he jump me’ and ‘he was really hot while doing it in all honesty’ swimming through his riddled brain.
Kame swallows tightly.
"Hey."
Kame doesn't care because he isn't attracted to Ueda. He shakes his head to get the mental picture of that night erased and deleted from his internal memory card, because whatever heat that had gathered in his face (that was now definitely as red as a ripe tomato) is travelling at a really uncomfortable speed down to his nether regions.
No. NO. he cannot, must not, and will not think of Ueda that way. It's not only because he just ISN'T gay, but the mere fact that Ueda is perhaps lower than… anything, really disturbed Kame.
“Hey!"
He's a whore. Kame reminds himself. He's fucked god knows how many people, and the worst thing is that whoever he has fucked before isn't of the opposite sex. Kame swallows thickly.
"HEY! What the fuck, Kamenashi?"
Kame is violently shaken out of his reverie by none other than the devil himself. Ueda is glaring at him, arms crossed and all authoritative and dictator-like.
"W-What?" Kame squawks, and Ueda raises a brow in puzzlement.
"Gross," he cringes. "Wipe that look off your face and sober up."
Kame scowls, but does just that. "What do you want?"
"I just told you,” Ueda snaps. "Three fucking times."
"Well, tell me again," Kame says.
Ueda sighs and folds his arms to his chest. "I said, you're cooking tonight," he says, and Kame opens his mouth to protest, but Ueda continues. "Don't lie to me and say you can't cook, because Taguchi tells me you are, and I quote, 'the world's bestest of the best cook with three moles down his left butt cheek.'"
"WHAT??" Kame yells, and Ueda cringes again. "How did he know that?!"
"Stop yelling," Ueda groans. "Which part? The one that you're the world's 'bestest of the best cook' or the 'three moles down his butt'?"
"BOTH!"
Ueda shrugs. "Beats me. He's your friend right? And personally, I didn't need to know the bit about your moles. That's disgusting."
Kame gets creative and chucks his iPhone (now dead) at Ueda, who catches it easily. He takes Kame's hand and presses the device into his palm, smiling sweetly. "Don't throw your iPhone. It will hurt you more than it hurts me."
Cackling evilly, Ueda leaves the room, swinging through the open door, just as Kame's iPhone hits the wooden threshold, missing Ueda's head by a millimetre.
///
With the limited food they have, all Kame manages to whip up using the brothel's surprisingly clean kitchen is a plateful of onigiri, his dad's famous shitake mushroom dish and a dish of pickled salted veggies and miso soup.
His hair is pulled up into a mini palm tree at the top of his head, and Ueda laughs at it, poking the bottlebrush of hair on Kame's head just to see Kame squawk indignantly. They eat at the bar, and Kame smiles from the kitchen when he hears calls of 'umai!' explode from the main room.
"Kame-chan~! Aren't you going to eat as well?" Koki calls out. Somewhere in between the days he stayed with this group, everyone started calling him Kame-chan. All except Ueda. And it bugged Kame slightly, but he chose not to pursue it and risk embarrassing himself.
Kame exits the kitchen with bowls of sweetened red beans, and Taguchi immediately jumps him. "I love you, Kame-chan~" he crows, and proceeds to snatch a bowl of the sweet dessert of Kame's heavily laden arms. Nakamaru and Koki take their share with polite thanks, and Ueda takes his without a word.
"Umai~" sighs Taguchi. "I totally love you Kame-chan. I think I'll marry you and make you my personal cook!"
Ueda snorts. "You're gross,” Ueda says, spooning the beans into his mouth. "Kamenashi is still a guy."
"Yeah, that's fresh coming from you." Koki says, and everyone holds their breath in case Ueda explodes, but he doesn't. "I know that JE is an all male’s joint, so what's your problem? You've slept with heaps of guys, you hypocrite.”
Ueda merely rolls his eyes, and there is no heat or anger when he speaks. "Please, I let guys fuck me because I have to; not because I want to, and certainly not because I like it. I'm not really gay, you dimwit."
For some reason this revelation makes Kame's feel as though something cold and painful lodged itself in his throat. He laughs along with the group to avoid looking weird.
He's a whore, Kame rationalises. He was fucking with your mind, remember that. That's what whores do after all. Besides, that little private moment meant nothing. He hated Ueda as well, so why should he feel so ridiculously annoyed?
When Kame lets his gaze drift to Ueda, he breathes in sharply because Ueda is staring at him with those expressive, probing eyes that seemed to be searching for something. Kame pulls his features into an expressionless mask, because he isn't going to let Ueda get to him that easily, no matter how much he has to fake it.
Kame isn't going to let Ueda get under his skin.
But he wonders whether it might just be a little too late for that.
///
The room he sleeps in is one of the cleaner rooms on the brothel. The sheets are clean and fresh, because Kame washed them throughly before letting any part of his body touch it. Kame can't help but keep replying that particular scene. It was driving him close to insanity. Why? Whywhywhywhywhy did he want to kiss Ueda? Why did he feel like this? Why couldn't he continue to find Ueda disgusting? Why?
Kame rolls over until he's facing the wall next to the bed. This is bad. Ueda is getting to him too easily. When Kame confronted Ueda that fateful day, he never expected his plan to backfire this badly. He was supposed to be the one coming out on top. He wasn't supposed to be the pining mess he is right now.
It's all Ueda's fault. Ueda and his annoying smirks and his stupid dark eyes that seem to drown Kame in it's depths. Ueda and his baritone voice that makes Kame shiver. It just isn't fair. Worst of all, even though he knows that he himself isn't gay, he wishes Ueda was.
Kame sighs and curls into a ball, allowing a soft whimper to squeeze through his lips.
He feels the air move next to him, and a cool hand runs through his hair, threading through his thick locks and running delicate circles on his scalp. Kame tenses and almost jumps in shock. Resisting the urge to flip over to see who it is, he pretends to remain asleep. It's Ueda. Kame thinks. It's definitely Ueda. He can feel the heat and smell the scent that is all masculine and distinctly Ueda - dark and musky.
"I know you're awake." Ueda says pointedly.
Kame winces. He rolls over and sits up, hair falling lightly around his face. They end up in a staring match, Kame refusing to back away and Ueda refusing to give in, his hand caressing Kame's molten copper locks almost lovingly. "You're hair looks like mine,” Ueda says suddenly, and Kame raises a brow. Either Ueda is sleeping walking or he's colour blind, because the difference in their hair colour is so obvious even a toddler could point it out.
"Did you catch Taguchi's stupid?" Kame asks, sardonically. "If so, don’t touch me." He reaches up to bat Ueda's hand away, but Ueda merely twists his own wrist and dodges Kame's incoming smack before catching the latter's wrist in his hand.
Ueda slowly brings it down until he's holding Kame's hand in front of his chest, eyes never leaving the younger man before him. Kame pulls at his trapped wrist experimentally, testing the strength of Ueda's grip, but at this slight resistance, Ueda immediately lets go, as though Kame's hand had burned him. It falls limply onto the stark white sheets. Somehow the gesture hurts Kame.
Ueda looks away from Kame's limp hand and his eyes travel to his face again. Kame looks away, but this time, Ueda is fast. He catches Kame's chin and forces him to look. He sees the blush that Kame tries his best to conceal.
“You aren’t gay,” Kame says flatly.
“I know.”
“Then why?” Kame croaks.
"Because you're pretty," Ueda replies simply. It sounds so weird in their current situation, and should also sound degrading, but strangely, it did not. "I'll admit that at least."
Kame rolls his eyes and scoffs. The Frown appearing almost immediately. "Are you that shallow? 'Because I'm pretty?'" he repeats, in a deliberate and annoying high pitched voice which scratches at Ueda's eardrums.
"It's a compliment," Ueda chuckles. "And in case you forget, I'm a whore. You get that way after awhile."
This time Kame is really offended. "If you think that flatters me, fuck off,” Kame spits and wrenches his face out of Ueda's grip to turn away, but again, a hands grabs it and pulls his face back, a tad too roughly for Kame's liking actually. It was as though Ueda deliberately wanted to push all Kame's buttons, seeing how much more he can push until Kame finally combusts in embarrassment.
The arrogant prick.
Kame opens his mouth in preparation to sing out a string of choice words that would make his mother turn in her grave. But Ueda swoops in, his lips inches from Kame’s own and hooded eyes low and dark, along with a soft, sensual whisper of ‘May I?’.
Kame snorts. “You’re actually asking my permission?” he says, voice mocking.
Ueda smirks. “Would you prefer I not?”
And Kame can’t really find a satisfactory comeback to that. He won’t deny that Ueda’s gentlemanly manner is a complete turn on, a stark difference to his violent side that emerged during their last meeting, and Kame won’t deny that it was partially his fault that Ueda nearly went bananas on him.
Ueda gently thumbs the bottom of Kame’s lip. “You’re really weird,” he whispers, “Cute, but weird.” And Kame just gasps before Ueda latches his lips gently and sensually onto his own.
The kiss is intense, deep and strangely sweet, tasting like silky hot caramel. Ueda deepens it when Kame doesn’t launch a fist at his face, angling his neck and pushing down harder on Kame
Kame moans, much to his horror, however Ueda seems to be gratified by this because Kame feels him smiling against his lips. Ueda doesn't top him or anything, but pushes forwards until Kame is against the pillows.
Ueda is still on the floor, his body twisted in an awkward angle to lean over Kame, elbows pressing into the mattress by the sides of his head, nipping and biting at swollen lips. Kame's hands unconsciously fists into Ueda's thin shirt, and Ueda groans into Kame's mouth, making him whimper.
The heat is building and building, and Kame feels like he's about to fucking melt. Ueda's tongue is licking the roof of his mouth, completely devouring him inside out. But Ueda eventually pulls away, and Kame is left breathing heavily and flushed. Ueda brushes his bangs away and plants a sweet, chaste kiss on Kame's forehead. Hot lips on cool skin.
"Go to sleep,” is all he says, before getting up, brushing the dust from his knees and stalking out the door.
///
Kame can't look at Ueda, and the latter seems to have realised this, because Kame constantly feels a pair of eyes watching his every move. He won't give in. He refuses to acknowledge the burning sensation of being under constant scrutiny because he knows that if he does look, he’ll see Ueda looking at him.
Just looking, nothing more.
Kame hates the way Ueda watches him like he's some puzzle to be deciphered. The awkwardness that lingers in the air is palpable, and the others were beginning to notice how Kame deliberately avoids Ueda in ever way possible.
He hasn't exactly established what was going on between him an Ueda.
Romance wasn't something he'd name his unhealthy obsession with the older man; hard-headed stubbornness and the fear of being made a fool of were the only restraints keeping him from giving in completely. They only kissed once, and that first time isn’t something Kame would count as a kiss, given the inappropriate timing of everything.
Kame isn't planning on going as far as to say that he loves Ueda, but he definitely isn't going to deny his attraction for the older man, despite him being a whore. Kame believes that it's all just lust, at least on his part it is (he's not really sure) but what about Ueda? Kame is positive that the latter was just toying with his feelings, because everything that happened in the past few days was fuelled by nothing but sexual desires, and this in a way, disgusted Kame.
But what disgusted him more was the fact that despite all his firmness about being straight, lusting after a guy completely contradicts everything he believed he was. Now, Kame wonders if he really is gay. He thinks of guys, other guys in general, and the thought of kissing them sends his stomach doing flips of revulsion. Girls - they were annoying, but Kame would rather kiss a girl than a guy.
It just felt completely and utterly wrong in so many ways.
Ueda - shivers immediately travel up his spine. Kame wouldn't mind becoming gay if that meant he could kiss those sinfully sweet lips once more. He swallows. Perhaps it's just Ueda, and not because Kame is gay, but it's just because it's Ueda.
He can't really explain it either. But Ueda is different.
Ueda is special.
///
"What do you think of Ueda?" Kame asks one day, when he and Koki are alone, trudging over wrecked cars and dismantled traffic lights as they head to the nearest convenience store. It's been almost a month, and the lockdown was still not called off. Supplies were running law, as more and more people raided homes, stores, and makeshift shelters.
Kame hated leaving the brothel now, because the air outside was tinged with the stench of rotting corpses and inflamed wounds. At first neither him or Koki wore masks out due to the lack of sickly looking people roaming the almost deserted streets of Shinjuku - something that Kame never expected to happen. But recently, more and more people, deformed with lesions and pustules pockmarking their faces and any visible patch of skin were appearing, and some of them were very close to the stages of having their flesh rotting off the bone.
Kame no longer flinches when he sees these unfortunate people. He watches as they limp along, leaving bloody trails in their wake. Kame strips himself down to the skin the minute he returns to the brothel, and scrubs his flesh red raw. He just wants to get the slimy feeling off him - he doesn't want to look like a walking piece of rotting flesh.
At the moment he doesn't see a single soul, infected or not in the almost empty convenience store. Koki is rummaging through a small pile of canned beans that were either badly dent or past its expiry date. Sweat rolls down his rough face in rivulets and his brow is twisted into a frown of frustration. "What about Ueda?" Koki asks dismissively, still sorting through the pile of cans.
"I mean, what do you think of him?" Kame tries again, hoping that Koki won't snap a nerve and pummel his face in. After all, his question is like a toddler's problem compared to their current fix.
Koki stops and turns around, still squatting on the dirty floor. He is looking at Kame as though it were the first time he was seeing him. "Why are you suddenly so interested?" Koki queries, voice muffled by his mask. "I don't really know him all that well. We just met a month ago."
"No, that's not it."
Kame bites his lip and tries to rearrange his question into a way that doesn't scream 'lovesick teenager'. "What I mean is that with all the stuff we now know about him, how do you see him now? Do you trust him?"
Koki's eyebrows slant dangerously, and Kame can't tell if he's thinking hard, or if he's angry.
"Of course I don't trust him." Koki says after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "Heck, I don't even trust you, to be honest."
Kame has to prevent himself from wincing, but he mentally berates himself for being so foolish. Of course Koki didn't trust him. He shouldn't really trust Koki either, or anyone else for that matter. This world they live in now, it's a cesspool of dead men walking, and stinking corpses. Chances of survival were close to none, and to be in a group such as his can be considered a blessing.
"But I wouldn't stab you in the back," Koki continues, turning back to rummage through a pile of expired canned goods. “We are ‘friends’ after all, and I doubt Ueda would either. I don't think - and I emphasise on think - that any of us are that underhanded." He stops to cheer silently as he passes a can of still edible can of pickled mangoes to Kame before continuing. "I mean, I don't trust you with my life, but I guess I trust you enough."
Kame quirks an eyebrow, and his expression just screams: 'what the hell are you playing at?"
Koki shrugs and turns away again. "Hey, I trust you enough to actually turn my back on you,” he says, nonchalantly. "That should suffice."
Kame can't help the warm feeling that spreads throughout his insides, but he wills himself not to smile and look like a complete idiot. "I'm talking about Ueda here,” Kame says, upon realising that they've ventured way off topic. "What do you think about him. Just give me your opinion."
"Jesus, what the hell's up with the both of you?" Koki suddenly says, and gets to his feet before rounding on Kame, hands crossed in front of his chest. He's frowning and looking terribly suspicious yet amused. There is a wry smirk on his lips, and Kame can see that he's trying not to grin. However, Koki's comment completely throws him off course, and he has to blink and swallow several times before he can speak.
"Excuse me?" he says, "What do you mean by 'the both of you'?"
Koki rolls his eyes. "Ueda and you of course! What the hell's up with the pair of you?"
Kame is confused. "Did Ueda say something?" he asks carefully, determined not to reveal too much.
"Say something?" Koki snorts. “If you mean that he completely bombarded me with a hundred and one questions revolving around 'what do you think of Kamenashi?' then hell yeah! What the heck’s going on between you two? Are you shagging each other or something?”
Kame chokes on his saliva and Koki’s eyes go round. “You HAVE?” he gasps, jaw falling open in disbelief.
“NO!” Kame yelps, and smacks Koki underside his head. “Don’t be filthy!”
“I’m not the one who is filthy here!” Koki scoffs, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Looks like the ‘innocent’ little turtle isn’t so innocent after all.”
“Shut up,” Kame growls, his face blushing a hundred shades of red. “There’s nothing going on between Ueda and I. We are just-” Kame;s brows furrow deep as he tries t think of a suitable adjective.
“Fuck buddies?” Koki says helpfully.
“I told you that we are NOT,” Kame sighs exasperatedly. “We are just curious.”
“Sure you both are.” Koki says, sarcasm lacing his words as he turns away to continue checking for edible goods. “Is that why you’ve been watching him all this time?” Koki shakes his head. “And I honestly believed you were straight.”
“I’m not-”
“Whatever you say,” Koki laughs. “Denying sleeping with Ueda I can get, but you can’t hide the way you practically drool over him every day when you think no one’s watching.”
“I do not drool,” Kame protests, looking throughly scandalised. “And what do you know?” Kame says bitterly.
“Sure you don’t,” Koki laughs, throwing Kame a look that clearly screams ‘I-know-all-your-darkest-secrets’. “I mean, I initially thought that you just found Ueda weird, and fair enough, because we all found him a little shifty at first. Then I realised that you were really looking at him waaaaaay too much, whenever he’s not aware. That was weird. Now I know why.”
Kame groans. “Was I that obvious?”
“Totally.” Koki shrugs. “But that’s understandable. We’ve been cooped up together for months, and well, I’ll admit that Ueda is good looking, pretty even - for a guy, that is. So? Why don’t you… I dunno. Do something about it?”
“Maybe because I’m just more morally correct unlike some people.” Kame snaps. “And I am straight. Honest.”
“I never said you weren’t, Kame,” Koki laughs. “Anyway, I hope you find a way of dealing with this,” he says, comfortingly. “It won’t be a pretty thing if you continue having your mind occupied like this.”
<- part 2 II -> part 4
From: yumemirunosekai
Title: Post Tenebras, Lux (Part 3)
Pairings/Characters: Kamenashi Kazuya/Ueda Tatsuya (main), Taguchi Junnosuke, Tanaka Koki, Toda Erika (side)
Rating: NC 17+
Warnings: blood, violence, gore, angst, AU, sci-fi
Notes: My first attempt at an AU/sci-fi fic. This a KAT-TUN gen fic with a side of KameDa. The personality I chose for Kame is Shuuji's real personality (the one that surfaces when he's with Akira, all prickly and whatnot) I have to emphasise that I tried to make this fic as close to reality as possible, in favour of my recipient, so expect less fluff and more… well. Reality.
Summary: Post Tenebras, Lux. ‘From Darkness, Light.’ The Red Plague has wiped out almost half the world’s population. Kame is a typical high school student who wants the easy way out of things, choosing to live in his own little world and ignore reality. When the lockdown sequence begins, he is thrown into another world where humans are animals, and killing seems to become a second nature. This is not a story of adventure, but reality.
part 1 || part 2 || part 3 || part 4 || part 5
Phase 3: Leviathan
Ueda tackles the situation differently from what Kame expects. He doesn't rush out Rambo-style, blade drawn and guns blazing. He merely throws open the door, face hard and unreadable. Kame hangs a fair distance behind him with Nakamaru and Taguchi (Koki had gone to check the back door) but he doesn't feel like he's being protected or anything because Ueda being half a centimetre shorter than him saves him the embarrassment of looking like a weak little girl.
Ueda is silent as he watches the faces of the people outside. Kame can see that it's a group of men, some young and some older, probably in their mid-twenties or mid forties. They are all wearing sleeveless tanks and biker jackets, paired with skinny jeans and motorcycle boots. The hundreds and thousands of tattoos depicting demons of all kinds make them look like a band of walking murals.
"Look's like th' place is already taken, it seems,” the biggest man says, and Kame can smell the cigarette smoke on the man's putrid breath. “But I'm sure you good lads definitely got room for more?"
Kame's dislike for the group is immediate. He doesn't trust him, and hopes that Ueda isn't so stupid as to let these men in.
"Sorry boys," Ueda says in a mock flirtatious voice that makes Kame do a double take and stare gaping like a fish at him. There is a thin smile on his lips, and the cold fire in his eyes makes Kame cringe. "But there isn't. Now why don't you all be good little boys and fuck off my property."
There is a brief silence at Ueda's words, but then the horrid man laughs, spit flying from his open mouth that houses rows of yellowing teeth. "You watch that pretty little mouth of yours there,” he rasps, a murderous gleam in his eyes. "Now I'm ain't asking' ya. Let us in, and maybe we all can have a nice round of booze and forget you ever said anything, eh?"
“No,” says Ueda, and from where Kame stands, he can see Ueda's right hand tighten around the hilt of his butterfly knife in his back pocket. "I told you that there isn't any place for you lot. Now seriously, fuck off or-"
"Or what, pretty?" says another man. He's thin and lean, with a sagging belly and hairy legs. There is a pedophillic look about him, and it disgusts Kame to the bone. The hairy-legged man steps up until he's right in Ueda's face. He's too close. He's too close. Kame feels something akin to suicidal for no reason at all, and he wants nothing better than to grab Ueda away, or perhaps slam his fist in the man's ugly face.
"Y'know, I've seen you somewhere before," the man says, scratching the bottom of his chin. His other hand shoots out and grabs Ueda's chin, tilting his angular face this way and that. "Where have I seen…"
Kame's heart stops. Why isn't Ueda doing anything? Why is he letting them touch him with their filthy hands and foul breath? "Fuck it." Kame hisses, and ignores Nakamaru's hand frantically gabbing hold of his collar, pulling him back. He tugs and finally Nakamaru lets go, with a strangled rasp of, "Kamenashi!"
"Kame!" Taguchi hisses. "Don't!"
Kame lurches forwards, and accidentally bumps into Ueda's back. Ueda wrenches his face out of the hairy man's grip and turns. "Shit," he curses when he sees Kame behind him. He tries to shield Kame from view, but to no avail.
"Now, that looks tempting,” says one of men, stepping up upon seeing Kame. He is heavily tattooed with a thick bushy beard. The predatory look in his eyes make Kame's insides twist uncomfortably.
Soon all attention is focused solely on Kame, who immediately feels like a lone lamb trapped by a pack of wolves. Ueda's entire body tenses. "Get the fuck back in, Kamenashi,” he hisses.
Somehow, this only annoys Kame, because he isn't some weak in the knees girl who needs to be protected. "Screw you,” Kame bites out. "I'm not some damsel who needs you to be fucking prince charming." Or more like prince asshole, adds Kame mentally.
"I tell you what," the hairy man says, still way too close to Ueda. "You hand us that kid over there, and we walk away in peace. How 'bout that?"
The fear makes Kame's guts freeze and shatter into a million tiny shards that dig into his flesh. He doesn't really know Ueda all that well yet. What if he decides to throw Kame to the men? There would be no way to escape. Kame shivers at the mere thought of what they could do to him if Ueda gave him up.
Ueda doesn't answer, and for several seconds Kame's entire body is all tensed to spring. He'd leap away the minute Ueda tries to make a grab for him.
“Tempting," Ueda says. "I do choose to avoid unnecessary trouble, but… no thanks." Ueda shrugs and Kame releases a breath he doesn't remember holding. "He's a very useful kid, and I don't just waste useful things."
Somehow, that final sentence doesn't reassure Kame in the least.
“Shame," says the biggest man, and he reaches for a steel pipe lying on the top of a pile of garbage. "I thought we could avoid trouble too."
Ueda doesn't waste time. In a second there is a sudden glimmer in the dark, and the hairy-legged man is stumbling backward, clutching at his face and screaming. Ueda proceeds to kick him in the nuts and moves rapidly on to the next adversary.
Behind him, Taguchi and Nakamaru rush out, brandishing broken glass bottles and pieces of wood. They attack the fatter, slower men who are easily taken down with a smack to the head. Kame notes that they are not as smooth or as skilled as Ueda, limbs clumsy and attacks weaker, but effective regardless.
Kame is grabbed by a random man, and the feel of greasy flesh against skin makes him want to retch. The additional probability of the man possibly being infected by the Red Plague spurs him into action quicker, and trying hard to recall what little scrap of karate he'd learnt as a kid, Kame elbows the man in the gut. He doubles over, choking. Kame doesn't wait before turning around, grabbing the hunched man by the shoulders and slamming his knee into his face.
There is a sick cracking sound, and Kame realises that he may have broken the man's nose, and hopefully several teeth. He feels an odd sense of accomplishment when the man slumps to the ground unconscious. He turns just in time to see Ueda hoist a thin man up by the collar and punch him between the eyes.
Ueda swings around to slam his fist into the next man, and as he does so, something silver and sparkly flies out of his jeans pocket. It lands several feet away from Kame, who makes a move to pick it up, but the pot bellied-hairy man reaches it first. There is a bloody cut on his face (probably where Ueda slashed at him).
The man squints at the silver object, which now Kame notices is a worn silver crucifix, and his beady eyes widen, a twisted smirk curls at his ugly lips. He cackles. Softly at first, but it reaches a crescendo that makes everyone stop fighting to stare. When Ueda catches sight of his pendant in the man's hand, Kame watches as his eyes widen in horror, and his hand hastily feels at his back pocket, most likely to confirm if the object really did fall from there.
"It's a small world we live in, eh?" the hairy-legged man snickers nastily, and Kame wonders what bullshit he is spouting.
Ueda's face is almost white with rage, and the hand clenched around the hilt of his butterfly knife trembles. "Give it back," he says, and his voice is barely a whisper.
The man merely laughs, and swings the pendant lazily between his fingers, mocking, taunting Ueda. "It's a wonder why I thought I'd seen you before," continues the man. "You're that slut from JE - that all men's whorehouse, aren’t you?”
If Ueda looked angry earlier, there are no words to explain the fury that boils within him now. Ueda's face turns from pale to ashen, and underneath the roiling anger is shock, and well disguised panic. The amount of control Ueda has over himself is applaudable, especially in this situation. "Give it back," he repeats hoarsely.
Kame is puzzled, and so are Nakamaru and Taguchi. What did the man mean by ‘slut’? ‘JE’? ‘whorehouse’? What did he mean?
"Ueda, what the hell is going on?"
Koki had emerged, just in time to catch the words 'whorehouse' and 'JE'.
"JE?" Kame repeats, confused.
"Shut up." Ueda spits, not looking at Kame.
"So, Ueda's your name, huh?" the man continues, fingers still playing absently with Ueda's pendent. "If I remember right, you were called 'Butterfly'. What did you do to your hair? I preferred your long hair better, Butterfly. It was easier to hold on to while I shoved my dick down that pretty little mouth."
Kame swallows. He isn't sure what the man was saying. Is he using a metaphor? If so, it's a very disgusting and degrading one.
"You were good, I'll say. The best fuck I've ever had. Pity you didn't enjoy it. If I remember, I think I might have forgotten to use the lube provided,” The man laughs, and his voice and words pierce Kame like an arrow. "You were holding so tight onto this thing here." he holds up at silver pendent. "That's why I remember you. It was a fucking hilarious sight!"
The poison words appear to be true, because Ueda's face becomes paler and paler, until he looks almost sickly. "Give it back,” he repeats once again, like a broken record on the verge of dying.
"You look as fuckable as ever, Butterfly,” the man rasps, eyes roving around Ueda's taut, muscled body, and takes a step forward. Kame expects Ueda to strike, or maybe scream or yell, but he doesn't. To Kame's horror, Ueda is unmoving. The butterfly knife in his fingers is still shaking, but now from fear rather than anger. To see Ueda scared frightened Kame, but also made a bubbling urge to protect him explode within.
Ueda is a prostitute. Was. The sentence inputs itself into Kame's brain, as he reaches down to pick up a rock, its sharp and jagged edge lethal and deadly. He retracts his arm. Baseball has always been his favourite sport. Heck, he is perhaps the best player in his school. So Kame doesn't hesitate when he launches the rock with all his might at the man advancing on Ueda.
The rock hits him on the side of the head with a sickening thud. There is a cracking sound and a short gasp, and the man is lying face first on the ground, palms up. Ueda's silver pendant gleams in the dim light of the flickering street lamps, but he makes no move to pick it up. He just stares at it, seemingly mesmerised.
Kame walks up to Ueda. He looks down at the hairy-legged man, presumably dead, and if not he'll most likely bleed to death. Kame realises that he's probably killed someone, but he feels no remorse. The man hurt Ueda. He hurt Ueda, and therefore must be punished. It was as simple as that.
The rest of the still conscious raiders scramble away hurriedly with their tails between their legs at this sight, until only Kame and the others are left. Kame bends down and picks up Ueda's pendant, tangled between the man's stubby fingers. The silver is smooth between his own. He hands it to Ueda, who doesn't take it.
"Don't put that filthy thing in my face." Ueda says. Kame notes how lifeless Ueda's expression is - dead and defeated looking. He doesn't look at Kame again, nor anyone else for that matter. Almost mechanically, he slips his butterfly knife into his back pocket and walks robotically into the brothel. He brushes past Koki, who takes one look at the raw emotions displayed on his face and decides to save his comments for later.
It's eons before anyone speaks.
"Did you know-" begins Taguchi.
“No," Nakamaru says. "Anyway, we shouldn't judge Ueda just because of this."
"But we know that it's true though,” Koki cuts in. "I saw his face. There's no way what that bastard said was a lie, as much as I'd like to deny it."
Kame doesn't say anything. So much has been revealed to him about Ueda in this short time with him. That look on Ueda's face was one that sent a thousand daggers through Kame, and he never wants to see it again. The rawness, the look of a man who so meticulously built walls around himself, hiding behind them, keeping those torturous memories at bay, shrouding the secrets that could ruin him… Ueda has his stripped down, down until he's left raw and painful and hurting with nothing left.
"Come on, let's go in before more uninvited guests spot us,” Nakamaru says, and ushers a confused Taguch and Koki into the brothel. "Kame? C'mon."
Kame can't help but feel that Nakamaru's natural parent-like approach is the best thing that can happen at this moment. They need something to lean on, something or someone solid and concrete, and Nakamaru ticked all the boxes. Kame stares down at the dull silver crucifix. It's very pretty.
"Throw that away,” says Nakamaru. “You heard Ueda. He doesn’t want to see it anymore. I think it’s best you get rid of it.”
Kame thinks for a moment, letting the cold silver chain slide around in his palm, before slipping the pendant, chain and all into his pocket. He enters the brothel and Nakamaru bolts the door, and it's quiet quiet quiet.
It's just quiet.
///
“I knew it,” Koki says once they are all in the brothel, doors bolted and secure. “I knew there was something off about him the minute I met him. Jesus Christ, what was I thinking? The man’s shelter is a fucking brothel! That should have triggered alarm bells for fuck’s sake!”
Koki kicks over a random chair angrily, and Kame winces at the noise.
“That’s not fair, Koki,” Nakamaru says reasonably. “Ueda isn’t a bad person. He must have his reasons why he-” Nakamaru gestures weakly at the air around him. “-chose this life. We have no right to judge him harshly. He took us in after all.”
Koki lets out a derisive laugh. “Reasons? What possible reason is there for someone to sell their body?”
“Hey, shut up.” Taguchi interrupts, his face twisted into a look Kame recognises as pained. “Nakamaru is right. We have no right to say such things about him.”
“Where is he anyway?” Koki growls, scanning the room and flexing his fingers. “I’ll strangle an explanation out of him.”
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” says Kame, suddenly feeling incredibly annoyed with Koki. “I think you should sit down and cool off. I’m not liking your prejudices at all. First it’s elites, next is prostitutes. So what if you hate them? This isn’t exactly the time to act like a fucking child.”
Koki rounds on Kame immediately. And the sheer fury on his face should be enough to send anyone away with their tails between their legs, but Kame holds his ground. “So you have beef with elites and prostitutes, fine by me, but at least hear people out before you charge onto them like an enraged bull with all horns and no rational thought.”
For a minute there, Kame is sure Koki is about to punch him, he braces for the impact, but Koki’s shoulders sag, and he immediately looks smaller and less intimidating. “I don’t…act like a child,” he mutters, and Kame exhales quietly with a shuddering breath. Thank Christ Koki is just all talk because there is no way that he can take on the larger man.
“But I still hold my ground. Prostitutes are filth, and don’t tell me you think otherwise, Kame, because no one will believe you,” Koki says, the prejudiced gleam in his eye still ever-present.
Kame frowns. “Prostitutes are filthy,” Kame says, and he means it. “But Ueda is anything but that.”he spits.
Kame takes the silence that follows this as an indication that he has won this round.
///
The faint clink clink of Ueda's butterfly knife leads Kame to one of the many empty rooms in the brothel. Most of them are filled with kinky toys and ropes and chains, and Kame can't help the side thought of how can BDSM be considered sexy? He'd want to die if someone roped him up in that situation.
The room which Ueda is in his more decent looking. The light is dim, and the sheets of the bed look cleaner than the others. Ueda sits at the foot of the bed, fingers twirling his knife around. He doesn't look up when Kame enters. Kame doesn't knock, and saying, 'Hey, I just thought you'd like some company' sounds like a suicidal sentence in current circumstances. So Kame just walks in and sits next to Ueda, joining him in awkward silence.
Kame has never been this close to Ueda. He can practically feel the heat radiating off the latter's body next to him. It's several minutes before the clink clink of the butterfly knife stops. Kame had been so focused on the shadows of Ueda hand playing with the knife dancing on the dirty wall in front of him, that when the morphing patterns stopped, he is slightly startled. Kame turns to see Ueda watching him. The rawness is gone, healed and hardened into a diamond-like shield, concealing whatever emotions Kame had witnessed only hours before.
It's Kame who breaks eye contact first, because he can feel the heat rushing to his face with Ueda staring at him so intensely.
“What do you want?” Ueda asks, his tone as cold as ice. Kame suppresses the shudder that rides up his spine and forces himself to face Ueda. The man’s face is as smooth and as impermeable as steel, whatever rawness that was present only hours before completely masked behind walls that Kame can never tear down.
“I want to sit here,” Kame replies slowly, carefully. “You have a problem with that?”
“Yes.”
Okay, this is going to be hard. “Well, suck it up,” Kame retorts.
Ueda tenses, and he scrutinises Kame’s profile through narrowed eyes. “If you’re here to give some kind of motivational talk and tell me that it’s ‘okay to be what I am’ because ‘I have my reasons’, I am going to stab you.” Ueda says flatly.
“I never said I was,” Kame snaps back.
“Then tell me what you want,” Ueda says, letting his head flop backwards onto the bed. His spiky black hair rustles against the cheap sheets, and Kame finds himself wondering how it would feel like to run his fingers through the mess of soft black. “Please, just- just tell me what you want and leave.”
The plea brings Kame back to the present, and he stares, stupefied at Ueda’s strained expression. “I-” Kame gulps. “I want to sit here.” he repeats, swallowing thickly.
Ueda’s eyes snap towards Kame and they are like hard, cold diamonds. “You do know that I am a shameless wench, don’t you?”
Kame blinks. he doesn’t know whether to nod or shake his head, so he does nothing. Ueda lets out a strained cackle. “Look at you, sitting there like a fool. Aren’t you supposed to be with the rest of the freeloaders out there, having a cosy conversation along the lines of ‘I can’t believe I lived with a fucking whore all this time’?”
Kame shakes his head. “No one thinks poorly of you, Ueda,” Kame notes that Ueda flinches at the mention of his name. “They… I mean, Koki just need some time to adjust.”
Ueda snorts. “Don’t bullshit me, kid.” he snarls. “What ‘adjusting’ is there to do? Everyone out there thinks I’m lower than dirt.”
“I don’t,” Kame says almost immediately, and the look Ueda shoots him is one that is filled with such scorn, such derision, that something lodges itself in his throat.
"Then you are an idiot," Ueda finally snaps. "A fucking, stupid, fool. I clearly mistook your placement in the hierarchy of idiots, idiot.”
His voice is light, nonchalant, yet spiteful as he says this. Kame can feel himself bristling.
“I don’t judge people for what they are,” Kame hisses in defence. “I’m not an idiot for thinking like that, and I’m not that shallow, you ass. I don’t think you are low, and I don’t think you have no morals. What you did for us just proves that you aren’t that kind of person, and I fucking respect you for it, okay? So stop with your self deprecating nonsense.”
Ueda sighs loudly and he presses his face into his hands. Kame is taken aback by this, as he watches Ueda shaking his head roughly as he backs away from Kame, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Stop fucking with my mind, you little shit,” he says, voice tight and strained. “Get the fuck out before I do something I really regret.”
Kame is on a roll, and it’s too late for him to back down now. He’s in too deep and he knows he’s struck something in Ueda. Something that isn’t ripped to shreds by what the world has done to him. Kame wants to cry suddenly.
Ueda is a good person. He’s an ass, sure, but he’s a good person. It’s just not fair. “Don’t you dare run away,” Kame growls, and he’s now on his knees, his hands inches from grabbing Ueda’s shoulders and shaking him. Shake him until he gets it through his head that he’s not dirt. “Stop being such a coward!”
At this, Ueda’s head snaps up, and there is no warning when he advances on Kame, whose world is flipped upside down and he yelps sharply as his head collides with the hard floor of the room. His eyes are scrunched up in pain, and when he opens them, Ueda’s large, dilated ones are boring straight through him, and the coldness in them slices like a broken icicle.
Ueda's grip on his wrists is tight, pinning them to the sides of his head, and becoming tighter and tighter until Kame hisses in pain. One of Ueda's knees is pressed painfully into the soft, tender flesh of his thigh while the other is placed close to his waist, holding Kame down completely.
"Don't you find other prostitutes filthy?” Ueda asks softly, his eyes heavy lidded and dilated. “Don't you think 'what a disgraceful slut' when you see them, all tacky makeup and slutty clothes?"
His dark eyes that seem to stare straight into Kame's soul making the latter's breath hitch.
Kame isn’t prepared for this question, so he falters a little. Having Ueda pressed up right to him doesn’t really help either, but he doesn't need to think about his answer. "Yes, I do,” he rasps, throat dry. Ueda's crotch is pressed rather uncomfortably against his stomach, just below his navel, and Kame has trouble collecting his thoughts.
A strangely detached smirk works its way into Ueda’s features, which slowly turn into something that looks really terrifying. "I thought so." Ueda whispers, and it brushes over Kame like thousands of tiny stabs that bite and sting. “You little liar.”
The word Ueda almost spits at him lances and burns, and Kame breath hitches as he shakes his head violently. “I’m not ly-,” Kame begins, but Ueda cuts him off, with a curt ‘Shut the fuck up’. The feral gleam in his eyes makes Kame shiver, and in his vulnerable position, Kame can’t help the pinpricks of fear that crawl steadily up his throat.
Ueda tsks lightly, a crooked smile on his pale lips that look like colourless plush. “You are all the same.” he says quietly.
Kame breathes in sharply, autoatically bracing himself for a possible onslaught of insults, but to his utmost amazement, Ueda suddenly laughs, his eyes squishing close as he buries his head in the crook of Kame's neck, possibly by accident, because his entire body is shaking from laughter. Kame gulps. Ueda's every breath brushes the skin of his neck like feathery light kisses, and he curses the stupid wide collar of his shirt.
When Ueda finally lifts his head from Kame's neck, Kame prays that the traitorous blush that he's sure decorates his face has faded. "Sorry," Ueda says, his head hanging and breath coming out in short bursts of laughter. "You're funny. In all my years as a whore, I've never come across someone like you, and I was sure I'd seen everything the world has to offer."
Hearing Ueda label himself whore stings Kame more than when the other man said it. There is a kind of acceptance in the way Ueda says it that makes Kame want to slap the latter silly.
"What's with that look?" Ueda asks. He's stopped laughing, and is now staring down at Kame with his honey-brown eyes that seem to strip Kame bare to the bone. "I don't need you to pity me. The world isn't all rainbows and unicorns, and I'm used to it. So wipe that sappy look off your face."
Ueda's tone turns hard. Kame bites his bottom lip and turns his head to one side so that he's staring at the peeling paint of the wall rather than at Ueda's stupid face.
"You're just a kid," Ueda continues, and Kame wishes that he'd just shut up. "So don't go acting all understanding and grown up like you get me, because you most certainly do not."
"Y'know what? Screw you, Ueda,” Kame spits, his head snapping back to glare daggers at Ueda. "Why don't you like, shut up for once and stop faking shit so much. You act like you don't give a rat's fart about everything when you so obviously do, so do me a favour and you bloody stop trying to understand what I'm trying to do here, because it's clear to me that you can't."
Ueda’s eyes darken. “Watch your mouth.”
Kame gnashes his teeth fiercely. “Or else what?” he spits. Kame has had it with Ueda’s stubborn machoness. Why did he even try to talk to him? It was completely hopeless. “Are you going to stab me with your knife, you coward?” Ueda’s jaw tightens, and Kame knows he pushing way past the boundaries into the danger zone, and that now is perhaps a very good time to shut up, but he doesn’t.
“You keep running away from your problems, and fair enough if you say that I don’t understand what you went through in life, and I respect that, because yes, I have no idea what kind of hell you lived in. I’m clueless, ignorant, and you know what? I’m happy,” Kame doesn’t pause. “And people have been telling me over and over and over that shutting everything out and ignoring the problem isn’t the way to go around it. It’ll come back to bite you in the ass one day.”
Ueda’s gaze doesn’t grow any less predatory. “Wonderful. Are you giving me scholarly advice now?” Ueda laughs derisively. Then a look shutters over Ueda’s features which is so dark and sinister that it scares Kame, from the way an almost evil smile curls his lips to how his hands tighten around his wrists so hard it feels like they are about to snap off. “Not afraid huh? I’ll show you, you little…”
Kame feels it first, because it’s cold and sharp. He doesn’t known when Ueda managed to get his knife up against his throat. At once, the thrashes against Ueda’s hold sharply, bucking upwards. “Fuck you, Ueda. Don’t- Don’t you dare-”
But Ueda presses harder down, eyes glinting dangerously. Kame hisses, and he can feel something warm slither down the column of his throat. “You- Get the fu-” But Kame’s sentence is cut off when Ueda spits a harsh ‘Shut up, you conniving little fuck.’
Kame stops moving almost at once, because with the way Ueda is staring at him, what with those depthless eyes, he looks like he wants nothing more that to gut him alive, “Who the hell do you think you are, Kamenashi? You stalk in here, all high and mighty, and start throwing your weight about? I never asked for advice from you. I don’t need your Life Lessons 101, because you will never-” Ueda presses closer, knife still against the smoothness of Kame’s throat. “- ever, understand what my life was like before this.”
Kame squirms, because Ueda is heavy and the feel of a blade digging into your throat isn’t really ideal, but Ueda's hand tightens on his wrists, and Kame gasps in pain. Ueda takes this opportunity to pull the knife away and twirl it tauntingly at Kame’s face. “So you see, you aren’t the boss of me, and you certainly can’t tell me how to live my life. So what if I choose to shut it all out? That’s the whole point, you idiot. That’s how you survive in reality.”
Kame can't move, and he can't fucking breathe. The blade is inches away from his face, and Ueda doesn’t even seem to care. “Let me up, Ueda,” be bites out, voice tight. “I’m done playing this stupid game with you in denial.”
Okay, wrong thing to say, because the knife is up against his throat again, just below his Adam’s apple. “Try saying that again,” Ueda snarls. “Give me a reason.”
The blade slips into his soft skin, and it fucking hurts. Kame wants this to stop, and he tries to say so, perhaps throw in a few choice words as well at Ueda for jumping him like this. Or perhaps Kame should knee him in the balls. Yeah, that would be ideal. His protests come out in whimpers, and Kame begins to panic when Ueda doesn't remove the blade that is slowly, slowly, breaking the skin.
His breathing quickens, and he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, which make him feel angry and scared and vulnerable all at once. Ueda drags the blade slightly, cutting deeper. Another strangled whimper escapes him, and this time, it sounds more like a sob, a plea for Ueda to stop, because Kame hates this, and he really hates Ueda now.
Ueda must have heard it, snapping him out of his psychotic trance, because he stops immediately and pulls his hand away hastily and stares down at Kame, who is breathing so hard and fast it comes out sounding like a cross between high-pitched sobs and pants. Ueda is also breathing heavily, and his dark, heavy lidded eyes scan Kame's face, grazing across the two red lines against his throat and stopping at his too-bright eyes, wet with unshed tears.
Kame is glaring, or trying his best to not show fear. He is still at Ueda's mercy, and he hates the feeling. Ueda's gaze suddenly turns apologetic and unusually intense. He releases one of Kame's wrists, and instead of slapping Ueda across the face like he so terribly wants to, Kame scrubs his eyes violently because he can't cry in front of Ueda. He won't.
Ueda's hand that pries Kame's hand away from his face is gentle and almost loving. He brushes away the tiny pinpricks of tears that collected at the corners of Kame's eyes. "I'm sorry," Ueda says, and he sighs heavily, proceeding to massage his temples.
Ueda gets off Kame, who doesn't move because he's trembling and is still too shaken up to really do anything. Ueda had really frightened him back there. A strong arm helps him sit up, and Kame obliges.
Ueda is still looking at him, gaze gentle and slight regret evident on his face. Kame blinks rapidly, his breathing is still quick, and he feels like he's having a heart attack. He stares warily at that cursed butterfly knife that held his life in it’s invisible hands just moments ago, and makes a mental note to remember that a pissed off Ueda is a murderous Ueda.
Ueda takes Kame's hands into his own, and Kame automatically tires to jerk it out. The bruises that circle his wrists are like blue-black butterflies that stand out against his pale skin under the dim light. Ueda begins to gently massage them. "Did I hurt you?" he asks, and doesn't look at Kame, but concentrates on his sore wrists. "I'm sorry. I just-"
"Forget it." Kame says, and he's amazed that he can still speak, because he feels like he'd just swallowed a bagful of sand. He reaches up to press at the cuts along his throat. "Just… Don’t you ever- Never- Never do that again.“
Ueda swallows, and Kame is shell shocked to see the regret that swims in those dark dilated eyes. “I- I didn’t mean to. Honest. It’s just that you-” Ueda growls and runs a hand through his hair. “I was just so mad. I honesty wanted to hurt you then and there. I didn’t care how.” Ueda sighs, and moves Kame’s hand to check on the cuts. Thankfully, they were not serious.
Kame gulps. Okay, perhaps pushing Ueda like that wasn’t called for. “It’s partly my fault as well. I shouldn’t have butted in. You’re right. It’s none of my business.” Kame says slowly, his eyes darting uneasily to scan Ueda’s face. “I just wanted to see if you were doing fine after… what that man said, as cliche as it sounds.” Kame shakes his head and looks away. “I didn’t know things would escalate like that though.”
Ueda licks his dry lips and he can’t look at Kame. “I- Do you hate me?” he asks quietly, suddenly very childlike and scared. It was amazing how quickly Ueda shifted from one persona to the next. It was weird, but Kame hardly cared about that.
"Of course I hate you,” Kame snaps, eyes blazing. "You were this close to slicing into my arteries, you prat!”
Ueda looks away. “I- Sorry. I’m just sorry, alright?” He then turns rapidly to face Kame. “Here.” Ueda takes Kame’s hand and guides it to his face. “Hit me if you want.”
Kame frowns, but ignores the offer and pulls his hand away from Ueda’s skin. “I’m not going to do that. Don’t be retarded,” Kame sighs, “Since I already hate you, I don’t think there is a need to look like someone kicked you in the balls, is there?” Kame continues, hating how blank Ueda looks.
It takes awhile, but Ueda finally manages to crack a sliver of a smile, and Kame releases a sigh of relief upon seeing it. It is small, but still a smile nonetheless. “You think I care what you think of me?” he retorts, and Kame’s heart soars at the slight asshole-ness that creeps back into Ueda’s tone.
“It should,” he says, tone challenging. “After what you did, I’m expecting compensation. There was no call for you to have that stupid clink-y knife thing and threaten my life. You could seriously scare people half to death with stunts like that”
“There was no call for you to butt into business that is none of your concern, just like you said,” Ueda bites back, and it’s more annoyance than anger.
“I saved your life,” Kame counters, and there is a grin on his face now. “You owe me.”
“Yeah, and you found out I let people fuck me for a living,” Ueda snorts, and rolls his eyes. “Isn’t that enough?”
Kame flinches, and the playfulness is gone in a heartbeat. How can Ueda be so self-deprecating and sound so- so fine about it? He shifts uncomfortably, and fumbles for a comeback, but there isn’t one. There is none in this situation because Kame doesn’t want to throw what Ueda is back in his face. It just… It just hurts for some reason.
“Cat got your tongue?” Ueda asks, a lazy smile decorating his face.
Kame swats Ueda’s head and scrambles to his feet, wanting to put as much distance between that devilish smile and himself as possible. Kame thinks that he must be some sick freak to actually feel so ridiculously fluffy and warm all of a sudden, but hey, Ueda’s smiles tend to have that effect, thank you very much.
Ueda laughs at Kame flustered look. “I think I should do this a lot more just to see you look like that,” Ueda says, looking thoughtful. “It’s interesting, the different faces you have. I kinda want to see them all.”
Kame throws the closest thing he can grab at, which is a pillow on the floor. “That’s gross.” He grimaces, “Don’t say weird things like that.”
Ueda makes a face and pushes the pillow away. “I was just saying that you’re cute. That’s not wrong, is it?”
Kame turns a bright crimson and looks away. “Whatever,” He mutters, making his way to the door, because he needs to get away from Ueda for awhile. Too much Ueda in 24 hours tends to make him feel like melting into a puddle of goo.
"But seriously," Kame says over his shoulder. "You do that again, I will kick you in the fucking balls until they retreat so far up to where they originally came from that they’ll never come down. No holds barred.” And with that, Kame half runs out of the room. He isn’t sure if this was a successful mission, but at least he got Ueda to feel a little better.
Ueda is left in the cold room, staring at the dancing shadows on the wall with a thoughtful expression on his face.
///
As for Kame, there is another thought on his mind that is more worrying that Ueda’s almost going bat shit crazy on him, which was more along the lines of ‘he was so close, I could have kissed him’. The fact that his face is growing redder and redder by the passing second doesn’t help the situation in the least.
Phase 4: Beelzebub
Kame would be dancing a little jig of success if he weren't so shaken up.
Why did Ueda have to go assault him? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhywhywhy why?
He shivers.
However, he is strangely happy that Ueda is more or less back to his normal self a few days later.
Koki had apologised first, if it could be considered an apology. The man basically walked up to Ueda one day and punched him square in the face. Ueda who had been sitting cross-legged on the bar had fallen backwards, crashing into the floor. ‘NEXT TIME DON’T HIDE THINGS FROM YOUR FRIENDS, STUPID’ was what he had yelled.
Ueda had launched back up, and thanked Koki for his kind gesture with a right hook that caught him across the face. ‘FUCK YOU. YOU AREN’T MY FRIEND.’ was what he had said in return.
Kame had been terrified that a real fight might break out, but to his utmost disbelief, two minutes later, the two men were playing cards and yelling profanities at one another over a round of strip poker, much to his horror, because Ueda had stripped down to his tight jeans, taut muscles and sinewy flesh gleaming under the dim lighting of the bar.
Okay, everything seems normal. Everything except Kame, that is.
He isn’t going to lie that what Ueda did to him that night was frightening, if he really needed a word to describe it.
He sits like a tensed spring on one of the couches and stares, or rather, glares at the wall in front of him. Thoughts along the lines of ‘Ueda is a stupid asshole, why did he jump me’ and ‘he was really hot while doing it in all honesty’ swimming through his riddled brain.
Kame swallows tightly.
"Hey."
Kame doesn't care because he isn't attracted to Ueda. He shakes his head to get the mental picture of that night erased and deleted from his internal memory card, because whatever heat that had gathered in his face (that was now definitely as red as a ripe tomato) is travelling at a really uncomfortable speed down to his nether regions.
No. NO. he cannot, must not, and will not think of Ueda that way. It's not only because he just ISN'T gay, but the mere fact that Ueda is perhaps lower than… anything, really disturbed Kame.
“Hey!"
He's a whore. Kame reminds himself. He's fucked god knows how many people, and the worst thing is that whoever he has fucked before isn't of the opposite sex. Kame swallows thickly.
"HEY! What the fuck, Kamenashi?"
Kame is violently shaken out of his reverie by none other than the devil himself. Ueda is glaring at him, arms crossed and all authoritative and dictator-like.
"W-What?" Kame squawks, and Ueda raises a brow in puzzlement.
"Gross," he cringes. "Wipe that look off your face and sober up."
Kame scowls, but does just that. "What do you want?"
"I just told you,” Ueda snaps. "Three fucking times."
"Well, tell me again," Kame says.
Ueda sighs and folds his arms to his chest. "I said, you're cooking tonight," he says, and Kame opens his mouth to protest, but Ueda continues. "Don't lie to me and say you can't cook, because Taguchi tells me you are, and I quote, 'the world's bestest of the best cook with three moles down his left butt cheek.'"
"WHAT??" Kame yells, and Ueda cringes again. "How did he know that?!"
"Stop yelling," Ueda groans. "Which part? The one that you're the world's 'bestest of the best cook' or the 'three moles down his butt'?"
"BOTH!"
Ueda shrugs. "Beats me. He's your friend right? And personally, I didn't need to know the bit about your moles. That's disgusting."
Kame gets creative and chucks his iPhone (now dead) at Ueda, who catches it easily. He takes Kame's hand and presses the device into his palm, smiling sweetly. "Don't throw your iPhone. It will hurt you more than it hurts me."
Cackling evilly, Ueda leaves the room, swinging through the open door, just as Kame's iPhone hits the wooden threshold, missing Ueda's head by a millimetre.
///
With the limited food they have, all Kame manages to whip up using the brothel's surprisingly clean kitchen is a plateful of onigiri, his dad's famous shitake mushroom dish and a dish of pickled salted veggies and miso soup.
His hair is pulled up into a mini palm tree at the top of his head, and Ueda laughs at it, poking the bottlebrush of hair on Kame's head just to see Kame squawk indignantly. They eat at the bar, and Kame smiles from the kitchen when he hears calls of 'umai!' explode from the main room.
"Kame-chan~! Aren't you going to eat as well?" Koki calls out. Somewhere in between the days he stayed with this group, everyone started calling him Kame-chan. All except Ueda. And it bugged Kame slightly, but he chose not to pursue it and risk embarrassing himself.
Kame exits the kitchen with bowls of sweetened red beans, and Taguchi immediately jumps him. "I love you, Kame-chan~" he crows, and proceeds to snatch a bowl of the sweet dessert of Kame's heavily laden arms. Nakamaru and Koki take their share with polite thanks, and Ueda takes his without a word.
"Umai~" sighs Taguchi. "I totally love you Kame-chan. I think I'll marry you and make you my personal cook!"
Ueda snorts. "You're gross,” Ueda says, spooning the beans into his mouth. "Kamenashi is still a guy."
"Yeah, that's fresh coming from you." Koki says, and everyone holds their breath in case Ueda explodes, but he doesn't. "I know that JE is an all male’s joint, so what's your problem? You've slept with heaps of guys, you hypocrite.”
Ueda merely rolls his eyes, and there is no heat or anger when he speaks. "Please, I let guys fuck me because I have to; not because I want to, and certainly not because I like it. I'm not really gay, you dimwit."
For some reason this revelation makes Kame's feel as though something cold and painful lodged itself in his throat. He laughs along with the group to avoid looking weird.
He's a whore, Kame rationalises. He was fucking with your mind, remember that. That's what whores do after all. Besides, that little private moment meant nothing. He hated Ueda as well, so why should he feel so ridiculously annoyed?
When Kame lets his gaze drift to Ueda, he breathes in sharply because Ueda is staring at him with those expressive, probing eyes that seemed to be searching for something. Kame pulls his features into an expressionless mask, because he isn't going to let Ueda get to him that easily, no matter how much he has to fake it.
Kame isn't going to let Ueda get under his skin.
But he wonders whether it might just be a little too late for that.
///
The room he sleeps in is one of the cleaner rooms on the brothel. The sheets are clean and fresh, because Kame washed them throughly before letting any part of his body touch it. Kame can't help but keep replying that particular scene. It was driving him close to insanity. Why? Whywhywhywhywhy did he want to kiss Ueda? Why did he feel like this? Why couldn't he continue to find Ueda disgusting? Why?
Kame rolls over until he's facing the wall next to the bed. This is bad. Ueda is getting to him too easily. When Kame confronted Ueda that fateful day, he never expected his plan to backfire this badly. He was supposed to be the one coming out on top. He wasn't supposed to be the pining mess he is right now.
It's all Ueda's fault. Ueda and his annoying smirks and his stupid dark eyes that seem to drown Kame in it's depths. Ueda and his baritone voice that makes Kame shiver. It just isn't fair. Worst of all, even though he knows that he himself isn't gay, he wishes Ueda was.
Kame sighs and curls into a ball, allowing a soft whimper to squeeze through his lips.
He feels the air move next to him, and a cool hand runs through his hair, threading through his thick locks and running delicate circles on his scalp. Kame tenses and almost jumps in shock. Resisting the urge to flip over to see who it is, he pretends to remain asleep. It's Ueda. Kame thinks. It's definitely Ueda. He can feel the heat and smell the scent that is all masculine and distinctly Ueda - dark and musky.
"I know you're awake." Ueda says pointedly.
Kame winces. He rolls over and sits up, hair falling lightly around his face. They end up in a staring match, Kame refusing to back away and Ueda refusing to give in, his hand caressing Kame's molten copper locks almost lovingly. "You're hair looks like mine,” Ueda says suddenly, and Kame raises a brow. Either Ueda is sleeping walking or he's colour blind, because the difference in their hair colour is so obvious even a toddler could point it out.
"Did you catch Taguchi's stupid?" Kame asks, sardonically. "If so, don’t touch me." He reaches up to bat Ueda's hand away, but Ueda merely twists his own wrist and dodges Kame's incoming smack before catching the latter's wrist in his hand.
Ueda slowly brings it down until he's holding Kame's hand in front of his chest, eyes never leaving the younger man before him. Kame pulls at his trapped wrist experimentally, testing the strength of Ueda's grip, but at this slight resistance, Ueda immediately lets go, as though Kame's hand had burned him. It falls limply onto the stark white sheets. Somehow the gesture hurts Kame.
Ueda looks away from Kame's limp hand and his eyes travel to his face again. Kame looks away, but this time, Ueda is fast. He catches Kame's chin and forces him to look. He sees the blush that Kame tries his best to conceal.
“You aren’t gay,” Kame says flatly.
“I know.”
“Then why?” Kame croaks.
"Because you're pretty," Ueda replies simply. It sounds so weird in their current situation, and should also sound degrading, but strangely, it did not. "I'll admit that at least."
Kame rolls his eyes and scoffs. The Frown appearing almost immediately. "Are you that shallow? 'Because I'm pretty?'" he repeats, in a deliberate and annoying high pitched voice which scratches at Ueda's eardrums.
"It's a compliment," Ueda chuckles. "And in case you forget, I'm a whore. You get that way after awhile."
This time Kame is really offended. "If you think that flatters me, fuck off,” Kame spits and wrenches his face out of Ueda's grip to turn away, but again, a hands grabs it and pulls his face back, a tad too roughly for Kame's liking actually. It was as though Ueda deliberately wanted to push all Kame's buttons, seeing how much more he can push until Kame finally combusts in embarrassment.
The arrogant prick.
Kame opens his mouth in preparation to sing out a string of choice words that would make his mother turn in her grave. But Ueda swoops in, his lips inches from Kame’s own and hooded eyes low and dark, along with a soft, sensual whisper of ‘May I?’.
Kame snorts. “You’re actually asking my permission?” he says, voice mocking.
Ueda smirks. “Would you prefer I not?”
And Kame can’t really find a satisfactory comeback to that. He won’t deny that Ueda’s gentlemanly manner is a complete turn on, a stark difference to his violent side that emerged during their last meeting, and Kame won’t deny that it was partially his fault that Ueda nearly went bananas on him.
Ueda gently thumbs the bottom of Kame’s lip. “You’re really weird,” he whispers, “Cute, but weird.” And Kame just gasps before Ueda latches his lips gently and sensually onto his own.
The kiss is intense, deep and strangely sweet, tasting like silky hot caramel. Ueda deepens it when Kame doesn’t launch a fist at his face, angling his neck and pushing down harder on Kame
Kame moans, much to his horror, however Ueda seems to be gratified by this because Kame feels him smiling against his lips. Ueda doesn't top him or anything, but pushes forwards until Kame is against the pillows.
Ueda is still on the floor, his body twisted in an awkward angle to lean over Kame, elbows pressing into the mattress by the sides of his head, nipping and biting at swollen lips. Kame's hands unconsciously fists into Ueda's thin shirt, and Ueda groans into Kame's mouth, making him whimper.
The heat is building and building, and Kame feels like he's about to fucking melt. Ueda's tongue is licking the roof of his mouth, completely devouring him inside out. But Ueda eventually pulls away, and Kame is left breathing heavily and flushed. Ueda brushes his bangs away and plants a sweet, chaste kiss on Kame's forehead. Hot lips on cool skin.
"Go to sleep,” is all he says, before getting up, brushing the dust from his knees and stalking out the door.
///
Kame can't look at Ueda, and the latter seems to have realised this, because Kame constantly feels a pair of eyes watching his every move. He won't give in. He refuses to acknowledge the burning sensation of being under constant scrutiny because he knows that if he does look, he’ll see Ueda looking at him.
Just looking, nothing more.
Kame hates the way Ueda watches him like he's some puzzle to be deciphered. The awkwardness that lingers in the air is palpable, and the others were beginning to notice how Kame deliberately avoids Ueda in ever way possible.
He hasn't exactly established what was going on between him an Ueda.
Romance wasn't something he'd name his unhealthy obsession with the older man; hard-headed stubbornness and the fear of being made a fool of were the only restraints keeping him from giving in completely. They only kissed once, and that first time isn’t something Kame would count as a kiss, given the inappropriate timing of everything.
Kame isn't planning on going as far as to say that he loves Ueda, but he definitely isn't going to deny his attraction for the older man, despite him being a whore. Kame believes that it's all just lust, at least on his part it is (he's not really sure) but what about Ueda? Kame is positive that the latter was just toying with his feelings, because everything that happened in the past few days was fuelled by nothing but sexual desires, and this in a way, disgusted Kame.
But what disgusted him more was the fact that despite all his firmness about being straight, lusting after a guy completely contradicts everything he believed he was. Now, Kame wonders if he really is gay. He thinks of guys, other guys in general, and the thought of kissing them sends his stomach doing flips of revulsion. Girls - they were annoying, but Kame would rather kiss a girl than a guy.
It just felt completely and utterly wrong in so many ways.
Ueda - shivers immediately travel up his spine. Kame wouldn't mind becoming gay if that meant he could kiss those sinfully sweet lips once more. He swallows. Perhaps it's just Ueda, and not because Kame is gay, but it's just because it's Ueda.
He can't really explain it either. But Ueda is different.
Ueda is special.
///
"What do you think of Ueda?" Kame asks one day, when he and Koki are alone, trudging over wrecked cars and dismantled traffic lights as they head to the nearest convenience store. It's been almost a month, and the lockdown was still not called off. Supplies were running law, as more and more people raided homes, stores, and makeshift shelters.
Kame hated leaving the brothel now, because the air outside was tinged with the stench of rotting corpses and inflamed wounds. At first neither him or Koki wore masks out due to the lack of sickly looking people roaming the almost deserted streets of Shinjuku - something that Kame never expected to happen. But recently, more and more people, deformed with lesions and pustules pockmarking their faces and any visible patch of skin were appearing, and some of them were very close to the stages of having their flesh rotting off the bone.
Kame no longer flinches when he sees these unfortunate people. He watches as they limp along, leaving bloody trails in their wake. Kame strips himself down to the skin the minute he returns to the brothel, and scrubs his flesh red raw. He just wants to get the slimy feeling off him - he doesn't want to look like a walking piece of rotting flesh.
At the moment he doesn't see a single soul, infected or not in the almost empty convenience store. Koki is rummaging through a small pile of canned beans that were either badly dent or past its expiry date. Sweat rolls down his rough face in rivulets and his brow is twisted into a frown of frustration. "What about Ueda?" Koki asks dismissively, still sorting through the pile of cans.
"I mean, what do you think of him?" Kame tries again, hoping that Koki won't snap a nerve and pummel his face in. After all, his question is like a toddler's problem compared to their current fix.
Koki stops and turns around, still squatting on the dirty floor. He is looking at Kame as though it were the first time he was seeing him. "Why are you suddenly so interested?" Koki queries, voice muffled by his mask. "I don't really know him all that well. We just met a month ago."
"No, that's not it."
Kame bites his lip and tries to rearrange his question into a way that doesn't scream 'lovesick teenager'. "What I mean is that with all the stuff we now know about him, how do you see him now? Do you trust him?"
Koki's eyebrows slant dangerously, and Kame can't tell if he's thinking hard, or if he's angry.
"Of course I don't trust him." Koki says after a moment of uncomfortable silence. "Heck, I don't even trust you, to be honest."
Kame has to prevent himself from wincing, but he mentally berates himself for being so foolish. Of course Koki didn't trust him. He shouldn't really trust Koki either, or anyone else for that matter. This world they live in now, it's a cesspool of dead men walking, and stinking corpses. Chances of survival were close to none, and to be in a group such as his can be considered a blessing.
"But I wouldn't stab you in the back," Koki continues, turning back to rummage through a pile of expired canned goods. “We are ‘friends’ after all, and I doubt Ueda would either. I don't think - and I emphasise on think - that any of us are that underhanded." He stops to cheer silently as he passes a can of still edible can of pickled mangoes to Kame before continuing. "I mean, I don't trust you with my life, but I guess I trust you enough."
Kame quirks an eyebrow, and his expression just screams: 'what the hell are you playing at?"
Koki shrugs and turns away again. "Hey, I trust you enough to actually turn my back on you,” he says, nonchalantly. "That should suffice."
Kame can't help the warm feeling that spreads throughout his insides, but he wills himself not to smile and look like a complete idiot. "I'm talking about Ueda here,” Kame says, upon realising that they've ventured way off topic. "What do you think about him. Just give me your opinion."
"Jesus, what the hell's up with the both of you?" Koki suddenly says, and gets to his feet before rounding on Kame, hands crossed in front of his chest. He's frowning and looking terribly suspicious yet amused. There is a wry smirk on his lips, and Kame can see that he's trying not to grin. However, Koki's comment completely throws him off course, and he has to blink and swallow several times before he can speak.
"Excuse me?" he says, "What do you mean by 'the both of you'?"
Koki rolls his eyes. "Ueda and you of course! What the hell's up with the pair of you?"
Kame is confused. "Did Ueda say something?" he asks carefully, determined not to reveal too much.
"Say something?" Koki snorts. “If you mean that he completely bombarded me with a hundred and one questions revolving around 'what do you think of Kamenashi?' then hell yeah! What the heck’s going on between you two? Are you shagging each other or something?”
Kame chokes on his saliva and Koki’s eyes go round. “You HAVE?” he gasps, jaw falling open in disbelief.
“NO!” Kame yelps, and smacks Koki underside his head. “Don’t be filthy!”
“I’m not the one who is filthy here!” Koki scoffs, and he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Looks like the ‘innocent’ little turtle isn’t so innocent after all.”
“Shut up,” Kame growls, his face blushing a hundred shades of red. “There’s nothing going on between Ueda and I. We are just-” Kame;s brows furrow deep as he tries t think of a suitable adjective.
“Fuck buddies?” Koki says helpfully.
“I told you that we are NOT,” Kame sighs exasperatedly. “We are just curious.”
“Sure you both are.” Koki says, sarcasm lacing his words as he turns away to continue checking for edible goods. “Is that why you’ve been watching him all this time?” Koki shakes his head. “And I honestly believed you were straight.”
“I’m not-”
“Whatever you say,” Koki laughs. “Denying sleeping with Ueda I can get, but you can’t hide the way you practically drool over him every day when you think no one’s watching.”
“I do not drool,” Kame protests, looking throughly scandalised. “And what do you know?” Kame says bitterly.
“Sure you don’t,” Koki laughs, throwing Kame a look that clearly screams ‘I-know-all-your-darkest-secrets’. “I mean, I initially thought that you just found Ueda weird, and fair enough, because we all found him a little shifty at first. Then I realised that you were really looking at him waaaaaay too much, whenever he’s not aware. That was weird. Now I know why.”
Kame groans. “Was I that obvious?”
“Totally.” Koki shrugs. “But that’s understandable. We’ve been cooped up together for months, and well, I’ll admit that Ueda is good looking, pretty even - for a guy, that is. So? Why don’t you… I dunno. Do something about it?”
“Maybe because I’m just more morally correct unlike some people.” Kame snaps. “And I am straight. Honest.”
“I never said you weren’t, Kame,” Koki laughs. “Anyway, I hope you find a way of dealing with this,” he says, comfortingly. “It won’t be a pretty thing if you continue having your mind occupied like this.”
<- part 2 II -> part 4