Title: Make-Believe Lovers
Author: FireDemon
E-mail: Ken_Dai_Love@hotmail.com
Rating: PG13
Category: AU. Band Fic.
Warnings: Shounen ai, Yaoi.
Summary: AU. Ken and Daisuke are best friends with a gimmick that gets out of control, when they shoot to stardom. Sometimes fame and money doesn't bring happiness. **Shounen ai-ish**.
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, it belongs to a lot of people, Toei, Fox Kids and. I forget the rest, let's just say my name isn't on the list. The idea and the badly written song, however, are all mine.
Authors Notes: Rewrote this, because I realised it wasn't quite written correctly. I liked the idea, but I missed a lot of stuff out, which the reviews made me realise. Enjoy the rewritten prologue.
Prologue: I've Built My Life Around You
~July, 2003: Daisuke's POV~
The lights are bright, and the air is unsurprisingly hot and sticky, as it's a humid evening in late July. I can feel that my skin is gleaming with perspiration, where the muggy air is clinging to my exposed dark golden skin. We've been singing for over an hour now, moving our bodies seductively, playing our roles on stage.
I give the crowd my patented Motomiya grin, as I sing my line of the duet and cross to the centre of the stage. The crowd goes wild as I run a hand through my sweat-dampened burgundy locks.
"Two hearts, they beat in time... Two eyes, they won't meet mine."
Ken smiles, but not like me, his is a shy careful smile, and he shakes back his long blue-violet hair. It used to be shorter, shoulder-length, when we started singing, but the fans like it long. It fits the role he's playing.
"Two lips so soft and sweet... One kiss means everything."
I lift his pale hand to my lips as he meets me centre-stage, and echo his line in song,
"One kiss means everything..."
He plays his part to perfection, sweet, shy, and completely in love with me as he tilts his head slightly, indigo eyes beseeching.
"Tell me when you look at me, what is it that you see?"
"Something beautiful, something kind, I see a promise in your eyes."
I step closer, running my dark rough-skinned hand over his comparatively pale cheek, marvelling at its softness, as I play my part on stage.
Our lips meet, and I part his with experienced ease, deepening the kiss as our fans go wild. I taste a myriad of emotions in his mouth... he plays his part for the fans but for us the kiss means more... and infinitely less. I press up against him, trying to identify everything we collectively feel.
Love... Hate... Lust... Disgust... Pain... Pleasure... Jealousy... Friendship... Rivalry...
He breaks away, eyes filling with fabricated tears as he falls back into our set roles,
"What about the shame I feel, Can't you see we're wrong?"
I follow, capturing his hand and sucking lightly on the tip of his thumb, "Maybe it's forbidden, but that shouldn't make us feel ashamed. What I feel for you is pure love."
"Tell me truly, tell me now..." He sings, turning back to the audience, bestowing his soft smile upon them once again. We're almost finished now.
I repeat the first line of the chorus once more, and gather Ken in my embrace. His body is pressed to mine, hips grinding back as I suck lightly on his neck.
He sings his line held securely in my arms, and then turns, capturing my lips with his own once again... Pretending so well that there's real emotion behind the gesture.
The crowd cheers, loving it.
The music softens as the song comes to an end and I smile keeping my arms wrapped around my once best-friend. I don't hate him, I don't think I ever could, but I don't love him. Or at least, not in the way that the screaming crowd believes I do. I force my cocky grin as I look out at the crowd,
"Man that was heated! We just want to thank you guys for coming out here tonight, it means a lot to us."
The crowd screams in response to my words and Ken smiles, looking oh so innocent, "We hope we'll see you guys again, but right now Dai owes me a blow-job."
There are assorted laughs and whistles and screams from the teens, and Ken smiling, leads me off stage by my hand. His grip is tight, secure, but our fingers aren't entwined. I wonder if our fans have ever noticed that we don't hold hands like lovers should?
I stare at the profile of his face as we walk. He truly is beautiful with his heavy eye-make up and effeminate features. It scares me sometimes that I think this about him.
We've really gotten used to our roles; we practically live them off-stage as well as on-stage. It's only in our heads that we're not who we pretend to be.
We make it to our shared dressing room and he releases my hand so that I can shut the door.
"Yet another successful show executed to perfection." He tells me sardonically, his indigo eyes coldly amused behind the glittering make-up.
I roll my eyes as he collapses into the chair in front of the mirror, and run my hands back through my hair, "Yes dear."
"You get off on this, don't you?" He questions, not even looking at me.
I raise an eyebrow at his reflection as I walk over and without even thinking about what I'm doing, begin to braid his long violet hair back. It's soft like silk beneath my fingers. The mere action of braiding his hair feels sensual and it scares me that I've gotten to the point where I can't remember in my mind exactly how I feel about my best friend.
"You like seeing them so excited."
"Over us?" I question, trying not to think about what he's asking of me, "I dunno. It's a working gimmick Ken."
Ken stands as I finish the braid and takes off his shirt; there's no seduction in the act, no hidden motive. Our friendship isn't like that. "What about kissing me? Do you ever get off on that?"
I snort with forced laughter, "Ken, you know I love you, but no, I don't get off on kissing you."
I don't get off on kissing Ken. Yes he's beautiful, yes I love him, but he's also my best friend, and more importantly a guy. I can play the role Oikawa's asked of us, but I can't force my body to find Ken's body attractive. Ken I think; can read my mind sometimes,
"Just an act, eh love?" He questions.
"You know it is." I pull off my own shirt, and pause to wrinkle my nose at the numerous love bites Ken has marked me with. My collarbone and neck are bruised. I don't know why I call them love bites, because Ken didn't mark me out of love.
"I look like a cheap prostitute." I pout at my partner; "Do you have to be so rough?"
Ken shoots me a disbelieving look over his shoulder, "Me? I'm not the one who gave his best friend scratches that didn't heal for days."
I grin, not sure if I'm acting or not, "Sorry baby."
Our manager bursts in before Ken can reply, without even so much as knocking, and I turn to glare at him,
"Is it so hard to knock?" I growl, pretending to be angrier than I really am.
"Yeah!" Ken agrees, teasingly, "We could have been fucking you know."
Oikawa, our manager gives us a look, "I know you guys. You wouldn't be. Now c'mon, you have to talk to the press. It's been a while since we had a heated kiss splashed over the magazine covers, lets give it a go boys."
I nod, being that I'm the more "dominant" partner, and we follow him, still topless, to a larger room where the reporters from 3 or 4 different magazines are gathered.
Ken slips into his part effortlessly and pouts at the reporters, "You are cruel, cruel people. Oikawa ruined a damned good orgasm. I thought you guys liked us - you hate us don't you?"
I laugh, mentally applauding my partners skills, before slipping into my own part, "Hey, there's more to our relationship than just sex Kenny. But, I'll give you a consolation prize anyway..."
I lean over and capture his lips in the most passionate kiss I can manage. It's harder off stage than on. And I'll never be as good at playing my role as Ken is at playing his.
The reporters laugh as we snuggle together on one of the couches, and I give them my broadest grin, "Now that Ken's been placated, what did you want to ask us?"
There are the usual questions, about our new songs and next concerts, which Oikawa mostly takes care of, and then one of the younger reporters, from one of the girly magazines smiles and asks the worst question she possibly could.
"Not many people know much about "Forbidden", so maybe you could tell me, what made you decide to start singing together? Was it because you were lovers, or did that happen after? I'd really love to know."
I exchange a look with Ken... Explaining our beginning?
We were a pair of hormone driven 16 year old boys naïve enough to jump at the chance to use Oikawa's gimmick.
The only problem was... Our rise to stardom was based on a lie...
Authors Notes: Well, I don't know what people are going to think of this idea, I thought it was interesting, but if nobody else agrees I won't continue it.
This is just the prologue, next chapter will start at the beginning, and will explain how Dai and Ken got to where they are now.
So, is anyone interested? Review if you want more.
Author: FireDemon
E-mail: Ken_Dai_Love@hotmail.com
Rating: PG13
Category: AU. Band Fic.
Warnings: Shounen ai, Yaoi.
Summary: AU. Ken and Daisuke are best friends with a gimmick that gets out of control, when they shoot to stardom. Sometimes fame and money doesn't bring happiness. **Shounen ai-ish**.
Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon, it belongs to a lot of people, Toei, Fox Kids and. I forget the rest, let's just say my name isn't on the list. The idea and the badly written song, however, are all mine.
Authors Notes: Rewrote this, because I realised it wasn't quite written correctly. I liked the idea, but I missed a lot of stuff out, which the reviews made me realise. Enjoy the rewritten prologue.
Prologue: I've Built My Life Around You
~July, 2003: Daisuke's POV~
The lights are bright, and the air is unsurprisingly hot and sticky, as it's a humid evening in late July. I can feel that my skin is gleaming with perspiration, where the muggy air is clinging to my exposed dark golden skin. We've been singing for over an hour now, moving our bodies seductively, playing our roles on stage.
I give the crowd my patented Motomiya grin, as I sing my line of the duet and cross to the centre of the stage. The crowd goes wild as I run a hand through my sweat-dampened burgundy locks.
"Two hearts, they beat in time... Two eyes, they won't meet mine."
Ken smiles, but not like me, his is a shy careful smile, and he shakes back his long blue-violet hair. It used to be shorter, shoulder-length, when we started singing, but the fans like it long. It fits the role he's playing.
"Two lips so soft and sweet... One kiss means everything."
I lift his pale hand to my lips as he meets me centre-stage, and echo his line in song,
"One kiss means everything..."
He plays his part to perfection, sweet, shy, and completely in love with me as he tilts his head slightly, indigo eyes beseeching.
"Tell me when you look at me, what is it that you see?"
"Something beautiful, something kind, I see a promise in your eyes."
I step closer, running my dark rough-skinned hand over his comparatively pale cheek, marvelling at its softness, as I play my part on stage.
Our lips meet, and I part his with experienced ease, deepening the kiss as our fans go wild. I taste a myriad of emotions in his mouth... he plays his part for the fans but for us the kiss means more... and infinitely less. I press up against him, trying to identify everything we collectively feel.
Love... Hate... Lust... Disgust... Pain... Pleasure... Jealousy... Friendship... Rivalry...
He breaks away, eyes filling with fabricated tears as he falls back into our set roles,
"What about the shame I feel, Can't you see we're wrong?"
I follow, capturing his hand and sucking lightly on the tip of his thumb, "Maybe it's forbidden, but that shouldn't make us feel ashamed. What I feel for you is pure love."
"Tell me truly, tell me now..." He sings, turning back to the audience, bestowing his soft smile upon them once again. We're almost finished now.
I repeat the first line of the chorus once more, and gather Ken in my embrace. His body is pressed to mine, hips grinding back as I suck lightly on his neck.
He sings his line held securely in my arms, and then turns, capturing my lips with his own once again... Pretending so well that there's real emotion behind the gesture.
The crowd cheers, loving it.
The music softens as the song comes to an end and I smile keeping my arms wrapped around my once best-friend. I don't hate him, I don't think I ever could, but I don't love him. Or at least, not in the way that the screaming crowd believes I do. I force my cocky grin as I look out at the crowd,
"Man that was heated! We just want to thank you guys for coming out here tonight, it means a lot to us."
The crowd screams in response to my words and Ken smiles, looking oh so innocent, "We hope we'll see you guys again, but right now Dai owes me a blow-job."
There are assorted laughs and whistles and screams from the teens, and Ken smiling, leads me off stage by my hand. His grip is tight, secure, but our fingers aren't entwined. I wonder if our fans have ever noticed that we don't hold hands like lovers should?
I stare at the profile of his face as we walk. He truly is beautiful with his heavy eye-make up and effeminate features. It scares me sometimes that I think this about him.
We've really gotten used to our roles; we practically live them off-stage as well as on-stage. It's only in our heads that we're not who we pretend to be.
We make it to our shared dressing room and he releases my hand so that I can shut the door.
"Yet another successful show executed to perfection." He tells me sardonically, his indigo eyes coldly amused behind the glittering make-up.
I roll my eyes as he collapses into the chair in front of the mirror, and run my hands back through my hair, "Yes dear."
"You get off on this, don't you?" He questions, not even looking at me.
I raise an eyebrow at his reflection as I walk over and without even thinking about what I'm doing, begin to braid his long violet hair back. It's soft like silk beneath my fingers. The mere action of braiding his hair feels sensual and it scares me that I've gotten to the point where I can't remember in my mind exactly how I feel about my best friend.
"You like seeing them so excited."
"Over us?" I question, trying not to think about what he's asking of me, "I dunno. It's a working gimmick Ken."
Ken stands as I finish the braid and takes off his shirt; there's no seduction in the act, no hidden motive. Our friendship isn't like that. "What about kissing me? Do you ever get off on that?"
I snort with forced laughter, "Ken, you know I love you, but no, I don't get off on kissing you."
I don't get off on kissing Ken. Yes he's beautiful, yes I love him, but he's also my best friend, and more importantly a guy. I can play the role Oikawa's asked of us, but I can't force my body to find Ken's body attractive. Ken I think; can read my mind sometimes,
"Just an act, eh love?" He questions.
"You know it is." I pull off my own shirt, and pause to wrinkle my nose at the numerous love bites Ken has marked me with. My collarbone and neck are bruised. I don't know why I call them love bites, because Ken didn't mark me out of love.
"I look like a cheap prostitute." I pout at my partner; "Do you have to be so rough?"
Ken shoots me a disbelieving look over his shoulder, "Me? I'm not the one who gave his best friend scratches that didn't heal for days."
I grin, not sure if I'm acting or not, "Sorry baby."
Our manager bursts in before Ken can reply, without even so much as knocking, and I turn to glare at him,
"Is it so hard to knock?" I growl, pretending to be angrier than I really am.
"Yeah!" Ken agrees, teasingly, "We could have been fucking you know."
Oikawa, our manager gives us a look, "I know you guys. You wouldn't be. Now c'mon, you have to talk to the press. It's been a while since we had a heated kiss splashed over the magazine covers, lets give it a go boys."
I nod, being that I'm the more "dominant" partner, and we follow him, still topless, to a larger room where the reporters from 3 or 4 different magazines are gathered.
Ken slips into his part effortlessly and pouts at the reporters, "You are cruel, cruel people. Oikawa ruined a damned good orgasm. I thought you guys liked us - you hate us don't you?"
I laugh, mentally applauding my partners skills, before slipping into my own part, "Hey, there's more to our relationship than just sex Kenny. But, I'll give you a consolation prize anyway..."
I lean over and capture his lips in the most passionate kiss I can manage. It's harder off stage than on. And I'll never be as good at playing my role as Ken is at playing his.
The reporters laugh as we snuggle together on one of the couches, and I give them my broadest grin, "Now that Ken's been placated, what did you want to ask us?"
There are the usual questions, about our new songs and next concerts, which Oikawa mostly takes care of, and then one of the younger reporters, from one of the girly magazines smiles and asks the worst question she possibly could.
"Not many people know much about "Forbidden", so maybe you could tell me, what made you decide to start singing together? Was it because you were lovers, or did that happen after? I'd really love to know."
I exchange a look with Ken... Explaining our beginning?
We were a pair of hormone driven 16 year old boys naïve enough to jump at the chance to use Oikawa's gimmick.
The only problem was... Our rise to stardom was based on a lie...
Authors Notes: Well, I don't know what people are going to think of this idea, I thought it was interesting, but if nobody else agrees I won't continue it.
This is just the prologue, next chapter will start at the beginning, and will explain how Dai and Ken got to where they are now.
So, is anyone interested? Review if you want more.