Disclaimer: I do not own Skip Beat!

AN: For those that read the original story, you will notice the changes I made to this version. While the changes are made, they are not especially significant. The one major change that I made is the ending. As I was looking over it, I realized that the ending of "Call me Kuon" was kind of just thrown in there and an ultimately frustrating ending. So I got rid of that. For those of you that happened to like that ending, sorry :(

And for the others that are reading this story for the first time, please, ignore this author's note, and continue reading.

If you want to read the original version of this story, go on to the next chapter. Though honestly, I prefer this version a lot more. Anyways, happy reading!

His Taste

"Shotaro!" I yelled, smacking the locked door in front of me. "Open the door!" Hearing no response, I took the initiative and broke the lock with my demons–well, demon. The United Forces of Light has destroyed the rest.

I knew taking this job was a mistake, I thought as I let myself in.

I had received an offer a week ago to appear in Shotaro's new music video. I had initially thought about refusing, but after hearing that Tsuruga-san would be appearing as well, I had decided to accept. If Tsuruga-san could place his differences with Shotaro aside for work, so could I. Even if I wanted to tear out his unnaturally bleached hair half of the time.

The music video itself was about a one-sided love between an archangel–portrayed by Sho–towards another angel, portrayed by myself. It was an unrequited love because the angel loved a powerful demon, Tsuruga-san, and both would give up their lives for the other.

We had just shot the last scene of the day, which was the scene where the angel and demon finally decided that nothing would keep them apart, sealing their doomed fate with a kiss. It had been a strange, yet altogether pleasant–I couldn't help but blush at such an admission–experience to kiss Tsuruga-san.

I had just gotten changed out of my costume and was taking with Yashiro-san out in the hall when Shotaro had passed by, calling me a whore as he did. Yashiro-san had immediately protested, however Shotaro seemed not to care as he stormed off. Enraged, I had bid a quick apology to Yashiro-san and followed Shotaro to my current predicament.

I closed the door behind me. Shotaro was sitting at the foot of a couch, his shirt thrown on the floor. I began to rethink my actions and wondered if it had been a good idea to follow him. As I was backing out Shotaro sensed my presence and spun around; his face distorted into a scowl.

"Don't you know how to knock?" he snapped.

I frowned. "Why are you acting like this?" I asked, ignoring his question.

Shotaro rolled his eyes. "Acting like what, exactly?"

"Like an asshole." If he was shocked at my usage of the word, he didn't show it, only continuing to scowl. "It has been two years, Shotaro. I have done nothing wrong, especially for you to call me that!"

To my chagrin, he smirked. But as he stood, I noticed that something was different about it. This was not the mocking smirk that "graced" his features whenever I was present. It was different–menacing, almost. I looked at his face; his eyes were cold, seeming as though they saw right through me, yet right at me at the same time. The look was unnerving.

"You kissed him."

I didn't need to hear the name to know whom he was talking about. "What does that have to do with anything?" I retorted, feeling a growing sense of self-consciousness as he stepped closer.

"You don't get it, do you? You always were so dense." Shotaro said, stepping closer until there was a mere foot's distance between us.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, backing away to the right. He was just too close. "How am I dense?"

Yet still he walked closer, his shadow looming over me. "Let me spell it out for you; I don't like you kissing other men." I continued my retreat until I realized too late that I had backed into a wall.

"Why?" My voice grew quiet, and fear began to settle in. I had never before been scared of Shotaro; but the way he spoke, his expression, his continuing closeness all seemed to oppress me, choke me. I had never seen him like this.

"Because you belong to me." Before I could react he closed the gap between us and crashed his lips atop mine. One hand cupped my face roughly, the other pressing me to him. I stood, frozen. All too late I realized what was happening and began to squirm, hitting his chest with my arms and trying desperately to get away.

This is wrong.

Shotaro grabbed both of my arms and held them against the wall behind me. I fought against him, but it was like trying to fight metal holds. When did he get so strong?

He broke away abruptly, still pinning me against the wall, strands of hair falling into his face. "No one can come in here. No one knows you're here, and no one's coming to save you." Shotaro said, and I knew I had made a grave mistake. I had told Okami-san I was going to work, and she wasn't expecting me until some time tonight. It was only five. Yashiro-san had seen me chase after Shotaro, but he and Ren were likely already at the next job.

There was nobody to save me.

My lips parted to scream–both at him and to notify anyone passing by–but he took that opportunity to crash his lips against mine again, slipping his tongue into my mouth in an assault I could never have imagined coming from anyone, even him.

Shotaro's kiss was the complete opposite of how I had imagined it to be when I had been young. I had imagined it would be soft, and gentle, but this was too different. It was rough and clumsy, and so very, very, wrong.

I managed to bite his lip, hard, and Shotaro swore as he pulled away. But he was not deterred, instead turning his attentions to my neck. I jumped as I felt his tongue slide down to my collarbone, and stayed very still as he nipped and sucked at the skin. I stood, paralyzed, unable to move and left to my fate.

It was some time before I finally found my voice. "No . . ." I squeaked. "No! Help! TSURUGA-SA–!" Shotaro placed a hand over my mouth, silencing my cries. At that moment the door burst open, revealing what appeared to be both an avenging angel and a scorned Demon Lord. Tsuruga-san stood at the doorway, his expression that of utter rage.

It took a single moment for him to take in the scene. Before anyone could say or do anything, Tsuruga-san had torn Shotaro away and struck him, the force of the blow leaving Shotaro a groaning heap on the ground.

"Don't touch her." Tsuruga-san growled. He was absolutely livid, his Demon Lord persona seeming to cower in comparison to the utter rage that befell his features. Yet when he turned towards me, his expression relaxed, though only slightly. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and led me away. His grip, though firm, was gentle, and warm against my skin. It was enough to pull me away from that frozen state I had taken previous, and follow him.

Soon we were in his car, and in his hurry to exit the area, Tsuruga-san practically burned tire on the way.

Tsuruga-san's hands, which had both punched Shotaro and gently led me away, clutched the wheel in front of him. His knuckles were an unnatural shade of white, his face telling of his rage as he drove.

It was only when we were a far enough distance away that Tsuruga-san pulled over and placed the car in park. He looked towards me, his anger replaced with concern, and reached over to wipe a tear from my face. I hadn't even realized I was crying. I glanced down at my hands, and saw them tremble.

All at once came a flood of tears, and the next thing I knew I was wrapped in Tsuruga-san's arms, clutching him for dear life as I sobbed.

"I'm sorry I couldn't get there sooner." He murmured, brushing my hair with his hand. My only response was the tightening of my hold on him.

I'm not sure exactly how much time we had stayed like that. All I knew was that eventually the tears had stopped, and I was still in Tsuruga-san's arms. His arms encircled me easily, and I found myself feeling a sense of security and protection, as though he would never let anything hurt me. It was a comforting thought.

Tsuruga-san was the one to break the silence that had befallen the car. "Mogami-san," he began. He spoke lowly, as though he were wary of destroying the peace. "Why don't you have a cup of tea to calm your nerves? My apartment is a short distance away, and you can relax there." After a moment of silence, I nodded and pulled away, wiping the last traces of tears from my face.

"Okay."

The ride to Tsuruga-san's apartment was spent in silence. Thankfully there had been no one in the garage or elevator; I'm not sure if I was in a good enough state to face the public eye just yet. We were silent even as Tsuruga-san placed the key in the lock of his apartment door, and we stepped in.

Again, it was Tsuruga-san that broke the silence. "Mogami-san?" At the sound of my name I turned towards him, yet quickly averted my gaze.

"Yes?"

If he noted my avoidance of his eyes, he didn't mention it as he spoke. "Please, sit down on the couch while I fix up some tea." Any other time I would have objected, insisting that I should cook up some food, considering Tsuruga-san took so little care of his health as it was. But at the moment I couldn't build up the energy to do much more than nod. Tsuruga-san paused, as though conflicted–yet headed down to the kitchen a moment later.

I went to the living room and sat down on the black leather couch in front of the coffee table. I stared down at my hands again, and saw the tell-tale red and blue that foretold bruises on my wrists. Suddenly the scene with Shotaro replayed itself in my mind. I shut my eyes, willing for it to stop. But it didn't.

I could almost feel his breath on my neck, his tongue in my mouth and his hands pinning me against the wall. I placed a hand to my mouth, and felt the tender beginnings of a bruise on my bottom lip.

I shuddered, and felt more tears threaten to fall.

My thoughts were cut short by the sound of footsteps. I turned my head and saw as Tsuruga-san entered the room, tray in hand. He walked over and set the tray on the coffee table, handing me a cup of tea. I accepted the cup with a nod and thank you, willing the tears to disappear from my eyes.

"You're welcome," he said, as he took his own from the tray and sat next to me. We sat in silence. I nursed the cup in my hands, staring at the warm liquid. I glanced over at Tsuruga-san. He stared right ahead, taking a sip of his tea every so often. He wasn't as enraged as he had been before, though I could tell he was far from pleased with what had happened. He tried not to show it to me, but I knew. The dissection of his emotions came with knowing him for two years.

I didn't ponder too long on the implications of my being able to read him so easily.

"I'm sorry." I said suddenly.

I felt Tsuruga-san shift beside me, turning to face me. "For what?" He queried. I didn't need to look at his face to know he was surprised at my outburst.

"You had to see that, and handle me while I was in that state, and you had to bring me to your apartment to calm down–" Suddenly a thought occurred to me. "And you're probably missing work right now! You're missing work, and here I am, sitting on your couch drinking your tea while you clean up my mess and I'm so sorry, I probably ruined your shirt with my tears and–" I knew I was babbling, but I couldn't seem to stop.

"Mogami-san," Tsuruga-san placed his hand atop mine. I ceased talking, my face a deep crimson. "It is not your fault what happened. Yashiro has already fixed my schedule, so I'm not missing any work right now. And even if I was; there is no way that I would leave you while you're like this." He placed his other hand on my chin, gently turning my face towards him. "I would never leave you." My heart leaped in my chest.

Suddenly his gaze drifted downwards to my wrists, and his face frowned at the sight of the bruising skin. "Did he cause this?" Tsuruga-san asked, gently removing the empty cup from my hands to get a better look at my wrists. He looked back at me, and I knew there was no hope of avoiding the truth. I nodded. The area around him sizzled momentarily with rage, however the look was quickly replaced with concern.

Tsuruga-san stood, heading to the kitchen. I immediately felt his departure, and until then I hadn't even noticed that I had felt the warmth radiate from his body. When he returned, he brought ice, and the momentary void he had left was filled again.

The teacup was empty, and Tsuruga-san gently took it from my hands and set it on the coffee table next to his own. He took one of my wrists, glancing up to see if it was all right before placing the ice pack over the bruising area. I sucked in a breath at the feel of the ice on my skin, but quickly relaxed, as I grew accustomed to the change of temperature.

We sat in silence, Tsuruga-san paying rapt attention to my writs as he iced them. After some time he removed the ice pack, and began to massage the area around the bruises. I watched, entranced as he took care of my wrists, treating them as though they were the most precious of porcelain.

I wondered how he couldn't hear my heart beating so loudly.

Tsuruga-san surprised me once more when suddenly, without warning he paused in his movements and brought my hand to his mouth, gently pressing his lips atop of each wrist.

My heart beat madly in my chest, my face practically set aflame. Yet somehow, I couldn't tear my gaze away from the man before me. My skin tingled in the area he had kissed, and I gave an inaudible sigh.

Tsuruga-san halted, as though catching himself doing something he shouldn't have. He looked at me, and I saw the tint of a blush appear on his cheeks. It was an endearing sight.

His voice was almost apologetic as he spoke. "It's a charm I picked up from when I was young. I got bruises often, and after treating the wounds, my parents always kissed the injured area, claiming that it would make the bruise heal faster." Tsuruga-san offered by way of explanation. The image of a miniature Tsuruga-san filled my mind, and I smiled. Tsuruga-san returned to smile, but he paused as he caught sight of my lip.

I placed a hand over my mouth, blocking away the offending sight that had broken the tender moment we shared.

Tsuruga-san placed a hand on my wrist, gently trying to pull it away from my mouth. I shook my head.

"Mogami-san," Tsuruga-san began, "Let me see."

I shook my head again and averted my gaze.

"Why don't you let me see?"

"Because . . ." I paused, and again the memory of what Shotaro had done flooded my mind. I shuddered at the memory. "His taste." I whispered.

"What?" I chanced a glance at Tsuruga-san, and that was what made me speak the next words out of my mouth, unedited and uncaring of the consequences.

"His taste. It's still in my mouth."

There was a tense moment of silence, in which Tsuruga-san closed off all emotions from his face, and I mentally kicked myself for having spoken. All too suddenly Tsuruga-san returned from whatever land he had hidden in, and he leaned in close. I stared wide-eyed at him for a moment, yet didn't move. He froze, waiting for me to make some kind of noise. Some hint as to what I was feeling.

Tsuruga-san moved achingly slowly, pausing just a breath away from my mouth, giving me time to pull away if I so wished. I didn't move.

He finally closed the distance, pressing his lips atop of mine. All too soon his lips were gone, and I was left with the slight yearning of wanting more.

Tsuruga-san retreated, until he was able to face me, his brown eyes burning into mine. There was a pause, and in that time I could almost feel time stand still around us. "The charm," he whispered, and cleared his throat. "The injury will go away faster." Tsuruga-san spoke a bit firmer, yet didn't move further away. And neither did I.

Maybe it was the shock of what had happened. Maybe it was the effect of kissing him twice, and the addiction that seemed to grow stronger with it. Or maybe it was the tension that had been building between them ever since the day they had met.

Kyoko didn't know. All she knew in that moment that a familiar feeling returned to her, almost like a lost friend that had never really left. And in that moment, she leaned that short distance between them and pressed her lips to his. And Tsuruga-san responded. That was all that mattered.

His lips were soft, and moved against hers in a way that seemed as though they had always belonged with her.

Kyoko closed her eyes, resting her hands Tsuruga-san's chest as his arms wrapped around her in an embrace that she could all-too-willingly get accustomed to.

When the two parted, they looked at each other, each in awe at what had just occurred between them. Tsuruga-san smiled, and Kyoko blushed a deep red, a small smile forming on her lips in response to his.

There was no director to interrupt. No scorned singer to confront. No excuse to claim. Everything around them seemed to dissipate, until it was only they, sitting in the realization of what just happened.

"It's gone." Kyoko whispered, unable to tear her gaze from the man before her.

"What is?" said man responded, too distracted at what had just occurred to clearly recall anything that had happened earlier in the day. As it was, he found it difficult to remember if this was all a dream fabricated by his mind.

"His taste." Kyoko replied. "It's gone." It was replaced by the memory of Tsuruga-san, and the silent promise of something more.

"Good." And when Tsuruga-san leaned in to solidify this statement, all other thoughts were lost once more.

They didn't know what the future had in store. And the two didn't really care. All that could be assured was that they would be together through it. And that was all that mattered.

Thank you for reading! All criticism is welcome! If you happen to find a grammatical mistake or wish to leave a comment do not hesitate to place it in a review, or PM. Otherwise, thank you for reading, and until next time!