Warning! There's a... lime in this chapter.
Hello mina! It's been one week! Told ya I'd update once a week ^_^;; I don't know why, but for some reason I only just recently realized that British English is QUITE DIFFERENT from American English. Stupid me! I've done my best to keep it universal English since I have absolutely no idea what kind of slang they used back then. Oh well. I hope no one is too annoyed with me. I tried to add some slang in this one – not much. I didn't proof read the whole... uhm... lime scented part of the chapter (Yes there is a LIME) because I was too embarrassed that I actually had the courage to write it ^_^;
Thank you TalonSage (wai you like my fic ^_^), panatlantic, [blank] (please enter a name if you review again! Unless you want me to call you [blank]), A ferret in NYC, Sarasi, chibiukyou (hehe sure you can but no garuntees it'll stay! You might lose it!), ChibiFaery AlexaSakurazukamori (I got it right! Can I have another sticker? Please? ^_^), and Kai for the reviews!
Slang used in this chapter:
Belt up – shut up
Duff prat – stupid (and prat I guess could be used as brat, but I don't know the lit. def.)
- If anyone has any slang terms I could have Terry call Stuart and Hugh and vice versa I would really appreciate suggestions! (but they can't be too recent!)
Cast:
Yuki Eiri - Edward Young - 22 - Accomplished Novelist
Shuichi Shindo - Stuart Shubrook - 19 - Aspiring Poet, Song Composer, and Actor/Musician
Seguchi Tohma - Thomas Savage - 32 - Wealthy Publishing Company Owner
Sakano - Kenneth Saunders - 29 - Stuart's Agent
K - Claude K. Winchester - 36 - American Ex-Mafia gunman, works for Thomas as an Agent
Sakuma Ryuichi - Reece Swift - 31 - Accomplished Poet, Song Composer, and Actor/Musician (I found out those were common back then)
Nakano Hiroshi - Hugh Norris - 19 - Aspiring Violinist
Uesugi Tatsuha - Timothy Ulysses - 16 - Schoolboy
Suguru Fujisaki - Frederick Sullivan - 16 - Schoolboy and Aspiring Conductor/Composer
Noriko Ukai - Natalie Udell - 28 - Accomplished Pianist
Ayaka Usami - Anna Udolf - 17 – Schoolgirl
Seguchi Mika – Marianne Savage – Thomas's wife
Taki Aizawa - Terry Anderson - 22 - Popular new Actor/Musician
Ken-chan - Keith Bailey - 23 - Popular new Actor/Musician (usually in performs in plays written/starring Terry)
Ma-kun - Malcolm Clarke - 23 - Popular new Actor/Musician (usually in performs in plays written/starring Terry)
Disclaimer: Standaaaaaaaaaard. Oh! I own the director, though. Hey, I gotta own SOMETHING y'know.
Roses
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Chapter 7
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Right left, right left, turn. Right left, right left, turn. Repeat twenty times and you have a recipe for a dizzy redhead and a frustrated brunette. In less than one week Stuart had succeeded in turning the whole troupe (they called themselves Ask for some god-forsaken reason) against him. Not only had the music director complimented him and said he was probably the next Reece Savage, but Noriko said that he sang along with the instruments a lot more harmoniously than the stars did. And while that made him glow like a strong light bulb, the light quickly broke when the troupe standing behind the curtains scowled at him and threw dirty costumes.
He didn't have a very big part so that made them even angrier. Plus, at some point in one scene, Malcolm Clarke had a violin solo. Everyone in the orchestra said that Hugh was much better at it than he was, which angered the man more.
No, the pair was certainly not in good graces with the troupe. And to make matters worse, there were rumors Thomas Savage himself wanted to give the two a chance at writing their own show with Hugh as the music writer and Stuart as the lyricist. That really made Ask mad – the most they'd ever gotten from him was leads in musicals. And they didn't even get chances to write them half the time.
"I don't know what we're going to do. Those three are really out to get me now! I overhead one of the cast members saying that the last time someone crossed their paths he wound up dead!"
Hugh's eyes widened, "They killed him?"
"Well, no... He had some hereditary disease, but they provoked it!"
The brunette sighed and walked over to his friend, clamping a hand down on his shoulder. "I'm sure everything will be fine. And if they do anything to you, I'm here to hurt them. So don't worry about it."
"But they're after you too!"
"I could take any of them."
Stuart groaned and lifted Hugh's hand from his shoulder, then turned and faced the stage. The two men were standing in the wings, watching a rehearsal. At the moment, neither of them had to do anything. The orchestra was taking a break during one of the dialogue only scenes, and Stuart had to be on in the next scene. Unfortunately, Terry and Keith happened to be practicing. Every few seconds one of the men would have to repeat their lines because they were scowling too much at the duo a few feet away from them.
Stuart and Hugh had been there, watching this scene, for the past hour. And it was supposed to last about three minutes. The director screamed and pulled at his hair then threw his script down.
"Five minute break! Terry, Keith, get down here, I want to have a word with you."
The troupe members groaned and jumped off the stage, walking to the director. He really was rather stereotypical – short, fat, wore breaches, loafers, and was balding (most likely from pulling his hair out so much). "What is going on with you too? I've seen you distracted before but this! This is ridiculous! And why on God's green earth do you keep looking back in the wings? You're supposed to be looking at each other not the stage crew! You're going to ruin me, both of you! Just ruin me!"
"Sorry, sir..."
"I don't want to hear 'sorry's from you I want to hear your lines! Now when this break is over you are going to go up there and do it right or so help me I'll be so angry I'll strangle the both of you with one hand."
The man turned and stomped up the aisles. Keith and Terry exchanged glances, then turned to see Stuart and Hugh creeping out of the wings. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the 'glory hogs.'"
"Hello, Anderson." Hugh stepped in front of Stuart, arms crossed. "I see you'll be out of a job soon."
"Don't be too sure. Shubrook!" The redhead jumped and glanced at the black haired man. "That's it, I'm talking to you. Quit your whole 'I'm so wonderful, look at me' act if you want to be in any productions again."
"Why? So you can claim the act yourself?" The singer lifted his head, smiling. Hugh snickered and turned, patting Stuart's shoulder.
"Belt up, Norris." Terry took a step forward, shoving his finger in the brunette's face; "Just because your little girlfriend over there is higher up on our list doesn't mean you're not up there near him. Watch what you say."
"Terry," Keith tapped the younger man on his shoulder, then pointed behind to the director walking down the aisle. The other man turned and nodded, then glanced back, "I'm warning you." They turned and walked to the director, then jumped back up on stage.
"Bloody bastards..." Hugh sighed and plopped down in a nearby seat, "I don't know who they think they are."
"Hugh..."
"Hm?"
Stuart sat down next to him, looking off into space with a blank look in his eyes, "We don't have any hereditary diseases do we?"
"Stuart..."
"What?"
"You're an idiot."
~-~-~
One long week. One very, very long week. His cupboards were bare, his laundry was stinky, his hair was oily, and he was fairly certain that if he had a dog he'd be dead. Mr. Saunders had not been out to market in one week. And since he couldn't really bake or cook he couldn't use his flour to make bread. Somehow the man had survived off stale milk and over ripe apples. Really... stale milk and over ripe apples are awfully rank.
So, that morning he ate his last apple and drank the last drop of the milk and set himself to brave the crowds of the market. On a Friday. On a Friday afternoon. On a Friday afternoon that was a holiday. The whole reason he avoided going to the market was because of the crowds, but because of that he'd wound up in the worst possible situation.
Anyway, why hadn't the butcher been by? He was signed up to get meat delivered to him. And to get milk delivered, and even some baked goods. But for some reason none of the people had visited him in at least a month. What's worse was he'd paid them for two months and then they just stopped coming.
The agent sighed and hefted his bag of apples. He'd have to stop by the dock to get fish and chips later on. He allowed himself that much of a luxury each Friday. Mr. Saunders paused in front of a vegetable stand and picked up a head of lettuce, studying it.
"Best quality! Got it just yesterday from the farms."
If that was best quality, the man mused as he observed the molded leaves, then he hated to see poor quality, "Ah, no thank you."
"Suit yourself! Could I interest you in some onions?"
"N-no," The brunette turned and walked away from the shouting vendor. He sighed, pausing in front of a dried goods store.
"Mr. Saunders?"
He let out a small 'eep' and bristled. That voice... was so familiar. Kind of like a fresh spring shower or tinkling glass bells or maybe even, yes, the laughter of children. Not that he liked children, he just thought they had sweet laughter. "M-Mr. Savage?"
"Ah so it is you!" The publisher stepped up a couple feet away; "I'm surprised to see you here. You seem to prefer to have your things delivered."
"Yes, well... Oh," He blinked, turning to face the blonde, "What are you doing here? I-if I might ask."
"Ah, that. The maids are sick with something, the butler had to go visit his mother who was also sick with something, and Marianne is coming down with something too. So, since today is Friday, I'm out to get the fish."
Mr. Saunders nodded, stepping to the side as a car drove by slowly, "And you came on foot...?"
"Yes. We did get that car a few weeks ago but it's so noisy and very unreliable. Besides, I really think I need the fresh air." Thomas smiled and clasped his hands together, "If you could call it fresh."
"Y-yes. I mean, no, not really, I mean – "
"Did you need something here, Mr. Saunders?"
"A-ah, yes."
Thomas nodded to him and took a step closer, "Well, then." Step, "I think," and he was just in front of the man, "that," he rest a hand on his shoulder, "I shall be off to the fish market." The blonde smiled again and walked off past the agent, "Nice seeing you here, Mr. Saunders."
"A-ah, you too..." He waited until the man was out of site, then put a hand on the shoulder his fingers previously graced, "He touched my shoulder... I'm never washing this jacket again."
A car sputtered by, its black smoke emitting from the muffler. Just as Mr. Saunders smiled and turned to face the store's door, the car stalled and a huge puff of smoke engulfed the poor agent, before the car moved along the road.
"I bloody hate cars..."
~-~-~
"And this is Miss Teddy, but she and Teddy aren't very good friends because she's really mean. And this is Little Teddy – I like him, he's small. And this is – "
"Thomas!" A frustrated brunette sat up upon seeing her husband enter the room. The blonde smiled and nodded to her, then to the hyperactive blue eyed boy – er, man sitting on the bed with her.
"Hello, Marianne. Thank you for keeping her company, Reece, I hope it wasn't too much of a trouble for you." Thomas smiled and picked up the brunette then deposited him on the floor, along with his dozens of stuffed rabbits and teddy bears.
"Annie and I had a lot of fun! I showed her my collection. See?" He rose an armful of stuffed animals.
"'Annie'...?"
"Don't, just... don't."
Thomas coughed and gave the immature man a quick pat on the head, "That's very nice, Reece. But I think that it's time for us to eat, so if you would – "
"Oh you have fish tonight don't you? I miss that; we didn't have fish much in America. They don't have that special on Fridays over there! It was ok, but I really missed it!" He smiled, hugging the main stuffed animal – Teddy – to his chest.
"I'm so sorry to hear that."
"It's alright! I'm just glad that they still have it here! I really, really like fish."
"I see, well, then you could go get some and we'll have our dinner if you would – "
"Stay over?" Reece jumped up, clinging to Thomas with one arm and to Marianne with the other. "Yay! I love staying for dinner here! You have the best food, and K lives with me at my house since he doesn't have one here anymore but he's so grumpy during dinner and it's really hard to get the bigger piece of meat because he always threatens me!"
"Thomas..." The publisher's wife twitched, trying to push the small man off.
"I know, I know. Reece, are you sure that – "
"And I really don't think K likes me staying with him all that much even if it is my house but he's just like that and I really, really, really, really like fish!" The brunette released his hold on the two and grabbed his hoard of stuffed animals (how he could pick up a couple dozen stuffed animals at the same time...) and hurried to the bedroom door, "I'll go put the silver out! I love doing that!"
Thomas sighed and reached down the smooth the wrinkles out of his suit. Unfortunately, his wife grabbed him, turned him towards her, and gripped his shirt collar; "If you ever, ever let him 'keep me company' again I'll make you wish you were never born."
"O-of course, dear." The blonde twitched, seeing the woman's frantic state. No one ever, ever made the blonde shake and cower in fear, but his wife was the last person you wanted to agitate. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, as the saying goes.
"He had better not stay for dinner long. My head hurts too much, be a dear and get the medicine, would you?" She loosened her grip and the man nodded, turned, and left the room.
"Teddy really likes the chips, don't you?" Reece smiled, shoving the greasy potatoes into the poor stuffed animal's face. "I do too! Don't eat all of them, Teddy!" He smiled and ate the aforementioned chips quickly, "Bad Teddy, I told you not to eat them all! Isn't he a bad rabbit?"
He rose the animal, placing it in front of his face, and raised the pitch of his voice, "'I'm sorry, don't be angry with me. I was just really hungry.' Of course they'd be angry with you, Teddy. 'Ohh...' but don't cry because I forgive you! 'Yay!'" The brunette smiled and hugged his favorite rabbit.
While this whole bit was going on, Thomas and Marianne had stopped eating and held their forks midway to their mouth, waiting to see if one of them would cry. Teddy cried sometimes, but it was always Reece who produced the tears.
"Thomas..."
"I know, I know. Reece?" The brunette lifted his head and looked at his former partner. "And... Teddy. Don't you think that Mr. K would be worried about you by now?"
"Oh no! He knows I was over here."
"But he didn't know you'd be staying over for dinner."
"Well..." the man lowered his head, "No... but I'm sure he doesn't mind!"
"Knowing Mr. K, I'm sure he's worried about you."
"He is?" Thomas and Marianne nodded vigorously, "Oh... well, I guess I should go cheer him up then!"
The two twitched, feeling sorry for the agent, knowing full well that 'cheering up' meant performing a play with the stuffed animals. Or drawing. Or keeping Reece from crying when he thought he'd failed in making you happy. "Yes, you should." Thomas stood and led Reece to the door, along with the man's bag of animals. "It was nice to see you, Reece."
"Bye, Thomas!" He smiled and hefted the bag over his shoulders, then hurried off outside.
"Thomas..." Marianne stood, walking over to the doorway, "I really don't feel too well. I think I'll retire."
"Do you suppose you have what everyone seems to be catching?"
"I wouldn't doubt it..." The woman smiled calmly and turned to go up the stairs, "You're not coming to bed tonight, are you." More a statement than a question, really. The man was so busy with his work that he rarely slept anywhere other than the couch in the parlor.
"I don't think I will. Goodnight, Marianne."
"...Goodnight."
~-~-~
"And then he threatened us and said that I was Hugh's girlfriend and I really don't think I'm a girl, and I'm certainly not his girlfriend but I think that... he was just trying to make me angry. But I gave him some really bad insults too! And – are you listening to me?" Stuart paused, turning to face the blonde writer.
"Hm? Did you say something?"
Stuart fell backwards, narrowly missing the table next to him, then jumped back up; "Did you hear one thing I said?"
Edward rose a pinky and stuck it in his right ear, "No."
"Mr. Young!"
"Your voice is annoying me."
Stuart sighed and jumped up on the desk, kicking his legs back and forth. Ok, so he liked Edward, and he was a good kisser. Ok, a really good kisser, but he was really mean. And he found the oddest times to insult the boy, too. "Mr. Young...?"
"No."
"But – "
"No."
"But you didn't even hear what I was going to say!"
"I don't need to hear to know the answer."
"What are you, telepathic?"
He let out a breath of smoke and let his cigarette rest precariously in between his fingers. The man glanced up at Stuart and looked straight into his eyes, "Would it make more sense if I were?"
"Ahh you're so strange!" The redhead jumped down from his perch and bound to the writer, plopping himself in the man's lap since there wasn't any space left in the chair.
"I'm the strange one... hey! What do you think you're doing? Off!" He stuck the cigarette into his mouth quickly and tried to shove Stuart off his lap.
"I don't want to!" Stuart smiled and clung to the helpless writer's neck, nuzzling his chest and purring.
"You dim prat!" Edward gave him one last shove and the boy landed ceremoniously on the floor. "Don't do that anymore!"
"But..." The redhead reached behind and rubbed his sore bottom as he stood, "Is it really so bad...? To want to be near you?"
"You're near me quite enough."
"But I want to be closer!" He lunged again and buried his face in the man's neck, "Why can't I?"
"Off..."
"You smell nice, I like your cologne..." Stuart, quite obviously annoying him, just smiled and sighed contentedly, settling into his little niche. "Is it new?"
"Yes, actually – wait, don't change the subject!"
"Mr. Young?" He glanced up, looking into the man's flashing eyes.
"What is it this time?"
"Couldn't I just sit here, like this? I'm not doing anything bad..." He sighed, seeing no change in the man's expression, and lowered his head, "Of course... I'm sorry, Mr. Young." Stuart moved to get off his lap but Edward rose a hand and stopped him. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and stood, lifting Stuart effortlessly with him, and put the tobacco out in the ashtray on the table in front of them, then stepped back and sat down, the redhead still in his arms. "Mr. Young...?"
"It's fine." He tilted his head back, resting it on the back of the chair. Stuart smiled and clung tighter to him, nestling his face in Edward's neck again. The writer sighed and rose his head and cupped his hand beneath Stuart's chin, lifting his eyes to meet his. "I'd rather see you." He leaned closer to the boy, his eyes half lidded.
"Mr. Young?"
"Shh..." His lips pressed against Stuart's and his eyes slid to a close. Stuart's eyes, on the other hand, shot open. Edward didn't kiss him often, really. The most heated kiss they'd had was that night and nothing much other than a shy peck from Stuart once or twice. Well, there was that one time, but... that was more of an accident, really. Yeah, an accident. Right.
Stuart's eyes slowly closed. Edward didn't show enough emotion when they were kissing for him to be that interested in watching his face. The boy loosened his hold on Edward's neck and let his hands slide down to rest on his shoulders. This kiss was different from the last one – less demanding, less feverish. Not that Stuart minded, it's just that he kind of missed the raw emotions their previous exchange had caused.
Wait – the writers tongue slid out, lapping at Stuart's sore lips, followed by a quick bite. Stuart's eyes shot open again and he jerked back, startled from the teeth. Edward grinned and took another breath, then pulled the boy back and pressed his lips against his again.
Well, it was different from the last one. Even if it had started out slow, it certainly was much, much more intense than the last time. Especially since Edward was now coaxing Stuart's mouth open and sliding his tongue along the other man's pearly teeth. The redhead could taste tobacco and alcohol traces in the other man's mouth. He should recommend breath mints later.
Edward pulled back for a second and the boy moved closer, whimpering and demanding to taste the writer again. Lips were against his chin this time, as the blonde moved in again, and then under and slowly along Stuart's smooth neck. He tilted his head back, offering more skin and emitting a shaky moan as Edward ran his tongue along his collarbone.
Hold on there, his collarbone? Stuart looked down, seeing Edward's hands work at the buttons on his shirt, his vest long since discarded. This seemed all rather similar – the discarded clothes, the fingers working along his chest and sliding down his stomach and further –
"Ah, w-wait!"
"Shh," Edward pushed him down to the floor and followed, pushing back the chair with his legs. He moved his face to Stuart's, kissing the boy's lips again quickly, then moved down to suck on his collarbone.
"M-Mr. Young..."
"That's right, say it again." He continued down, pausing to lick Stuart's hardened nubs. The boy let out a sharp gasp and shot his hands up, pushing the writer away.
"Stop!"
The writer paused and glanced up, "What? There's no one here."
"T-that's not what I mean! I don't want to do this."
Edward smiled and ran a hand down the boy's torso and down to his pants, "I don't believe you."
"A-ah... I-I don't feel comfortable... doing this..." He tilted his head back, unable to look the lust filled man in the eyes anymore. Plus, he knew he was lying. Sort of. He really didn't feel mentally ready to do anything like this – especially with a man, but his body sure wasn't listening to all the logical parts of him.
"I don't care." Stuart heard rustling and opened his eyes again, risking a look at Edward. At a shirtless Edward. At a shirtless Edward whom, he had to admit, looked pretty damn good. This wasn't going to be easy.
"Edward..."
"Be quiet." His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, then ran along the boy's chest. Despite Stuart's quiet, and weakening protests, Edward continued. It really had been a rather long time since he'd been with anyone – man or woman. He hadn't slept with many men, maybe just two or three, but he had to admit that he liked them much better. Women were too... soft for his tastes. Too much extra padding.
He knew doing this with this particular man wasn't exactly the best and brightest idea he'd ever had – this certainly meant that the boy would come over more frequently and bug him even more. He hated to think about what would happen if this continued after his break. But as the boy arched his back and screamed out his name – Edward had to admit it sounded very nice – he didn't think that he'd honestly mind this boy as his new play toy. Even if he was inexperienced. Oh, but he'd change that, oh yes.
~-~
coughs* I wonder if I should up this to R? I don't think I should. I know, you were all expecting a yaoi! I doubt I'll ever do one of those. I'm a girl, I don't know much about... that stuff (even if I read it like an addiction... .;). Plus, I don't want to up this to NC-17. Fewer people would read it that way (I wonder if that's really true).
I hope this was ok! I know I could be better at all this but I'm doing my best! I've never written lemons (and don't intend to anytime soon, really), but this is the most I've done.