Love in this Club {PART 1/2)
Title: Love in this Club {PART 1/2)
Author: xlolitsnozomix
Pairing: Akame , Pikame (platonic)
Rating: PG-13 for this part (WILL BE NC-17 SOONNN)
Genre: smut, crack, romance
Summary: Kat-tun went out to the club one night, Jin saw Kame on the dance floor and his pervert mode is turned on. (FROM HERE)
A/N: finished at 2 am. AM DYING. ALL FOR U JESSIE (bachiari ) JUST POSTING ON TIME! no grammar editting as i am far beyond EXHAUSTED!! grammar and xposting tmrw. FOR JESSIE 'S BIRTHDAY YOU WHORE YOU'RE GONNA READ AND LIKE IT OKAY. FUCKING LOVE U . gnight guys. dont shoot me for the shitty mistakes -_-;;; WENT BACK AND EDITTED IT!! LOL! :DD it's safe from grammar mistakes now XD;
For a request in
akame_req by nodame_jan
---
To be honest, Kame was never a fan of the whole club scene. Thick, choking black smoke filling the air, loud, throbbing, trashy music. To be honest, he always preferred smaller crowds. A couple of friends, pizza, and television sounded like a perfectly good Friday night to him. He had never once thought about going out to some hidden club in a dark, dirty alleyway and slink in the back entrance with intentions of getting some booze and women and sex. Never. It didn’t sound appealing anyways. Who knew what kind of shitty drinks those bartenders would serve you? Who knew what they could do to your order before they gave it to you? And most of all, who knew how many of those females in those clubs would have some kind of sexually transmitted diseases that could kill?
Kame had never been an expert on things like that, but he took one look inside one of those clubs one night and well-it had seemed clear enough, hadn’t it?
He already had it pegged in his mind that at least 95% of the people that filled the capacity of that room had been trashed up pretty badly at one point or another and were all too scared to go get tested, for fear of realizing how many things were actually wrong with them.
After all, what you don’t know can’t hurt you right?
---
“No thanks,” Kame declined his best friend’s offer over the phone one Saturday night.
It was his day off today (the first one is God knows how long), and he was not about to go to some disgusting club filled with disgusting people rubbing their dirty bodies and lingering odors all over him.
“Awww, come on, Kame, you party pooper. You gotta get out sometime, right? It’s life! And trust me, with me there, you’re not going to be bored for even one minute,” Pi cooed across the line. Kame could see it now-the latter probably had his eared pressed up eagerly against the earpiece, a wide, Cheshire-cat style grin stretching across his face and his eyes glazed over with mischief.
Kame clicked his tongue, trying to tie up his hair and put on an apron at the same time so he had the phone perched between his head and his shoulder while his mouth held a stretched out black hair tie from being used too many times. Tonight, he was making pasta. And nothing was going to make him change his mind about that. Nothing. Honestly. How could anyone resist his Alfredo-sauce making skills?
“Uh-uh,” he replied, still preoccupied with tying the stupid apron string.
“I’ll give you my Limited Edition Usher’s Single ‘Love in This Club’,” Yamapi blurted.
Kame froze.
“WHAT?”
“Yup, you heard me, homie,” Yamapi tried to keep his tone nonchalant.
Kame scoffed in disbelief, a breathless chuckle dying in his throat, “Oh my god. Are you sure about this, Pi? I-I mean, seriously though.”
“When was the last time I kidded around with you?” Yamapi said in his manipulative husky tone-Kame was sure his smile was even wider and more mischievous now.
Kame bit his tongue to hold back the laughter and his retort of yesterday morning, Yamapi.
But he pushed all of that aside to really consider what Yamapi was offering him.
Kame gulped. Now here was something he really had to consider.
NOOOO! A little voice in his mind screamed. DON’T GO TO THE DARRRKK SIDE KAMEEE!!
“Fine,” Kame ultimately decided, closing his eyes and reveling in how big a sacrifice he was making.
He could nearly hear Yamapi squealing audibly on the other side.
Before could Kame state the ground rules he had that Yamapi could not pressure him to break no matter what, his train of thought was interrupted.
“Well you see, there’s something else you have to promise me,” Yamapi said in a slow, timid voice.
Kame swallowed. Great, I should’ve seen this coming.
“So you really, really like that single right? That Usher one?” he continued.
Kame nodded, not really caring when he realized that Yamapi couldn’t see his actions over the phone. “Well, no shit, Pi,” Kame rolled his eyes.
“…you see, the thing is-okay this is going to sound crazy, but....I-I mean-look, just don’t get mad at me okay? I’m doing this for another friend of mine…j-just give it some thought, okay?” Uhhh..” Yamapi was clearly struggling to get this out. Kame suddenly felt scared.
“Well…?” Kame probed.
“If…if that song actually comes on in the club, you have to go up on the stage…and dance to it…the whole song…with your actions matching that of the song’s lyrics.”
---
“I feel weird, in this…” Kame hisses under his breath to Yamapi settled in the leather seat beside him. They were in the backseat of the black, sleek BMW; the two other strangers whom Kame didn’t recognize in the front were quieted now, listening to the loud, intense noises coming from the speakers inside the car. Kame felt like his head was going to explode. Well at least this will prepare you for the even louder noises in the club, Kame reassured himself, glancing nervously out the completely rolled down window.
Yamapi showed no sign of caring how Kame felt whatsoever. Their relationship had always been like that. Kame always nagging-being the mother of the pair; worrying too much. Yamapi the rebellious one-wild, he lived his life with freedom, liberty, and most of all, without restraints; most of the time not listening to Kame’s naggings. Kame admired that about Tomohisa. He sometimes would wish wantonly that someday he could live life like that too-carefree, open, not afraid of what was going to happen next.
Of course, that was something he could never tell him, or else Yamapi would get all cocky and egotistical.
Suddenly, an uncomfortable feeling struck his left eye and as he jumped with a little jolt and reached to rub his eye with the back of his hand, the mingled thoughts began to evaporate as quickly as they had come.
Fuck this, Kame’s mind growled angrily. He really couldn’t believe he was doing this. Going to this…trashy club in the middle of nowhere in this getup. God, I really hope this isn’t happening, he thought anxiously to himself.
His eyes were lined with a thick, layer of kohl eyeliner that made them bigger than they had ever been before; the only problem was that every now and then, a little crumb would break from the darkly drawn line and land in his eyes, causing him to rub furiously at the intrusion.
“Stop that,” Yamapi warned him, reaching over to pull his arm away and tsk-ing at him. “It’s gonna smear.”
Kame sighed. Not only that, but his hair looked completely ridiculous. He didn’t even know what Yamapi did to it but it was gelled and completely hardened into place and the jet black strands were jutting out in all directions from his face. Some of the overgrown bangs that he had vowed to cut three months ago were jabbing him in the eye-totally not helping the eyeliner situation in any way whatsoever.
That wasn’t all: his left wrist was adorned with a black leather fingerless glove, dangerously sharp spikes sticking out all over the cuff, there was a bright red and black checkered scarf that hung loosely around his waist, draping casually over a pair of black, tight leather pants with not-very-subtle rips on the side that led right down to the 2-inch high combat boots which reached up to his knees.
It didn’t end there. The shirt was the worst. A crisp, new black collared was left unbuttoned (Yamapi had scolded him when he tried to button even one of the buttons) and barely peaked out of the top of the two thousand ton weighing leather bomber jacket adorned completely with metal buttons and latches and zippers and chains. That wasn’t allowed to be buttoned up either, so he was forced to walk around with his barely chest almost completely hanging out with only one, lonely, black and silver gothic looking cross on a thin chain that suspended from his neck and was laying on top of visible collarbones.
Kame could swear he had never felt more exposed or uncomfortable in his life.
Let’s just get this over with, he kept repeating to himself. He could totally do this. Just a club right? Just stupid, drunk, horny bastards who had nothing better to do than get even more drunk and have sex, right? It’s not like they would even notice he was going to be up there on the stage, right?
Little did he know, he had never been more wrong.
---
And there it was, before them, like a dark, flashing disco dance that was all a mirage. It almost looked…unreal. It was not like any other club Kame had ever seen; more glamorous, more blindingly flashy, shinier, and cleaner. This was going to be something else entirely.
The Aura, the sign read in bright, fluorescent red lit up letters.
Kame sneaked a nervous glance at Yamapi, his dark sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, his eyes looking straight ahead, focused on the two men that had driven them here. Fairly remembering the name of one of them: the shorter one, his eyes were intense, his smirk was cold, complacent and arrogant, but there was some kind of dangerous edge about him. His voice was smooth, but at the same time rough, and his hair was wild. Ryo something, Kame recalled indistinctly.
The other one was taller, quiet, his looks were so feminine but sharp that if someone didn’t know any better, it wasn’t impossible to mistake him for a girl. His hair had been grown out long, curling around his shoulders and as he walked, there was something light in his step, like a spring of energy that ironically, was nowhere near apparent on his face. And he smelled good. He had sunglasses also-thick, black, impenetrable aviator glasses that shielded his piercing, ardent stare from the rest of the world, keeping the rest of them safe from meeting that stone cold, yet fiery passionate gaze.
Shivering, Kame looked around himself slowly, still feeling like his feet were moving on his own and life his mind was still lost somewhere behind them, behind the dark tinted, impeccably clean windows of the scratch-free BMW. He really didn’t know why he was here. He couldn’t believe this was about to happen.
Suddenly, this entire idea seemed silly and absurd, but at the same time, it was frighteningly intimidating. Kame couldn’t decide. The air was crisp that night, cold; a low, gray sheen of clouds gathered around the light of the waxing silver moon glittering in the night sky. The whole scene was suspiciously ominous.
Outside of the entrance, in front of those tall, glass doors that led into another world, there were scattered groups of people that were completely different from one another. One group of boys with crazy eye makeup and too-tight pants that looked almost like he did. Another was a circle of younger kids that were dressed in too-baggy clothes and hanging gold chains with rainbow rimmed sunglasses-the wannabe gangsters, Kame guessed.
The third group Kame eyed was the most intriguing. Boys and girls alike, stood perched on the brick wall, waiting for what, Kame had no idea, maybe for less people to be crowded around the front entrance so that they wouldn’t have to be hassled and shoved inside? But that didn’t matter-there was just something so captivating about them, and Kame found himself unable to pull his eyesight away. They were all gorgeous, all dressed in either black or white and their clothes were crisp, perfectly ironed and immaculately clean. Nearly all of them had a little white cigarette in their hands and their phones in the other, wildly texting on the touch-screens with precision and speed. Kame was awed for a moment. Until something else caught his attention for a split second. They were all doing the same thing-not talking to one another, just standing there shrouded in the swirls of the cigarette smoke and the wisps of the cold November night air. All except for one of them. A man stood beside them, but his actions were nothing like theirs; huge black sunglasses that was impassably thick and dark concealed most of his features. He leaned casually against the wall, watching the people around him uninterestedly as they all remained quiet and didn’t associate with one another. His hair was wavy, long, and wild, outgrown but at the same time perfectly curling around at just the right edges of his face so that it simply added on to the intimidating air that he held as he stood there.
The man was absolutely stunning. His features were sharp, a bit edged and ragged and he looked dangerous, like he was up to no good, but was so inhumanly beautiful that no one would even mind if he were to do them wrong. He was tall, his legs thin and those tight skinny jeans fit nicely around his towering figure. All he had on was a paper-thin white collared shirt, that like the rest of the group’s clothing, was perfectly unwrinkled and spotless. Creaseless.
He didn’t even have time to realize what was happening before the man turned his direction towards Kame and pulled his mouth down in an even more harsh frown and slipped away silently behind the corner of the brick wall he had been slouching against.
Kame gasped, not understanding what just happened.
“KAMENASHI KAZUYA,” Yamapi hissed loudly, throwing Kame a dirty look and nudging him along, “stop staring,” he added impatiently. “Move along, we don’t have all day in here y’know.”
Still breathless, Kame blinked at his best friend, the chilliness of the air and the growing feeling of suspicion almost overwhelming him-choking his senses.
---
Inside, it was just like he had anticipated. The walls were dark, blood red with black streaks. Swirling tiles that were so clean they sparkled lined the floors, and with each step a little elegant click followed. It smelled like cigarettes and too much cologne and alcohol. And it smelled like people. Sweet, perfume, mint, bittersweet sprays. Smelled like sex.
As soon as they entered the door, Yamapi and the other two men disappeared from view and Kame let out a little yelp, quickly attempting to chase after Pi, but in a flash, Kame had lost him.
In the beginning, he was afraid that he would stand out. That all the attention would suddenly turn to him and hundreds of heads would swivel around just to stare at him. But oh, no. He was wrong. So terribly wrong. Inside, there were creatures. They didn’t even look like humans anymore. Piercings covering every plausible surface of their too-white, too-pale, porcelain skins. And if Kame didn’t know any better, he would have started convincing himself he’d been thrown into some kind of gory vampire horror movie plot.
But 85% of the people in there looked crazier and crazier than the last person he’d gawked at. Some had foot long Mohawks highlighted green, some had drawn eyeliner with black lipstick and it smeared down their faces like j-rockers gone a little but more hardcore than usual. Half of the club was either smoking, or drinking, or grinding on one another.
The worst was the heat-it was almost unbearable, and not to mention, he had only just stepped in the club, how would it feel life if he were actually to start dancing? To start moving, actually?
Everyone was so busy in their own situations and their own company and friends and appearances that not a single person paid him an ounce of their attention. No one even looked at him for more than two seconds as he ungracefully pushed his way through the surging wave of the hot, sticky crowd morphing together into one big moving mixture of heads and arms and legs and glasses of alcohol.
After what seemed like years of suffocating and drowning in an ocean of people and skin and heat, Kame finally landed at the bar, a little air conditioning machine wheezing out as much semi-cool air as possible. This much heat would have absorbed half of the coolness that thing was blowing out anyway. But nonetheless, the tiniest bit of cold wind pricked at his now slicked and sweaty open chest and he sighed with relief, tilting his head backwards just a bit as he settled on the stool nearest the corner of the bar.
As the wind picked up its force and continued to dry away the thick layer of sweat that his skin had poured out, he shut his eyes for a tiny second, letting the feeling of relaxation hitting him like an inevitable natural high, suddenly overwhelming his senses. His guard let down for a fraction of a second.
The world spun lazily as he lay there, wondering faintly if the eyeliner had dripped down his face in a gruesome, gothic manner yet. He couldn’t quite recall if this was waterproof or not.
“Would you like something, sir?” said the bartender in a gruff voice, his tone at the edge of amusement for some reason-dangerously teetering, about to fall over.
“Mmmm, some kind of cocktail, please. Strong. I’m gonna need it,” Kame replied in a low murmur when he realized he needed to basically perform a freaking striptease in front of like 300 people within the next three hours.
His head was still tipped back and his body draping over the bar stool unceremoniously.
“Sure,” the low voice responded quietly, just privately to Kame half-passed out in his lonely corner. Kame could almost picture the man turning around to the bottles on the shelves as he added, “I think a Manhattan will do.”
Kame nodded in agreement. He just needed something really strong. Crazy strong. Knock-you-out-in-an-instant kind of strong. Pass out kind of strong.
In the midst of his swirling thoughts, Kame made a little groan, already feeling the annoying pulsing beat of a headache beginning to rise in his head.
Suddenly, something hot, wet and strong pressed blindly against his lips and his eyes snapped open, a groan of protest and shock curdling in his throat and he wanted to say something, to shout, but he couldn’t push away because something in his brain went haywire and he felt weak, a rush of endorphins rushing through his body and he shuts his eyes again, kissing back the other whatever-it-was.
It was hot and messy and Kame didn’t even know what the other thing was doing to him but god, it felt good. And he was hot and tired and worn out and so done with this place with its stupid loud music and people who smell too good that they smell bad and the strobe lights and the heat.
After what seemed like hours of making out with said whatever-it-was, the other thing pulled away and Kame blinked, feeling as if he’d become intoxicated from that kiss, as if the kiss sent him on an even more overwhelming high than the last and he found that he wanted more. His lips wanted more. More more more.
“Nnngggfhhh,” he moaned, sitting up now with his lips swollen and the bittersweet taste of alcohol on his lips and the gentle pressure he felt earlier still lingering, hovering on his mouth like a ghost of a kiss.
He felt lightheaded.
When he finally regained half of his former senses, he sat up straight and glanced around, eyes meeting with two dark, chocolate ones that seemed to melt into those long, soft eyelashes and that layer of eyeliner three times thicker than his own.
The familiar impeccably unsoiled and perfectly ironed shirt and those tight, tight jeans that looked too good right now. Kame’s eyes trailed back up that perfect, flawless body and locked with the pair of melting, dreamy brown eyes again that were no longer hidden behind those dark glasses and he whispered in stuttering, broken breaths, “You…what was that for? And who are you?” Kame sounded sleepy and drugged up and horny.
“Akanishi. Then why did you kiss me back?” the man’s face held an tantalizing smirk as he ever so slightly tilted his head.
---
A/N: COMMENTS WOULD STILL BE ADORED *o*