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Kamui, King of the World - hahahahaha
-forbiddenist

Black Candles

They sat at the café, Kamui silently sipping his tea as Fuuma cleared his throat. "So, Mr. Shirou..." Kamui's look made the older man pause. "Kamui. Call me Kamui." Fuuma smiled as the younger man put his cup back onto the saucer and settled for just staring at him. Kamui looked so pretty even under all those clothes. His shirt was utterly unbuttoned, sparing girls the trouble of imagining what was beneath the black cloth that complimented his upper body so well. He was the most beautiful thing Fuuma had ever seen. No one had recognised Kamui under the various layers of black, which made life a lot easier for the both of them.

Fuuma decided to continue.

"So Kamui, how is Kotori? Is she happy?" Kamui stared at him for a moment, his eyes seemingly lingering on his lips and neck. "She's fine. She's very happy." The rock star murmured this nonchalantly, his eyes travelling lower to Fuuma's cotton clad chest. Fuuma adjusted his glasses. He wasn't too comfortable with this rich, beautiful man staring at every part of his body except his eyes. It was almost as if his brother-in-law was checking him out.

Fuuma gathered his black coat around him, feeling cold all of a sudden. Kamui would not stop staring. By now his eyes were languidly travelling along Fuuma's arms, if Kamui had noticed Fuuma's discomfort, he did not show it. "Kamui?" Fuuma waved his hand in front of the other man's face a few times before the man actually stopped staring. Kamui had looked away abruptly, obviously, he hadn't caught himself staring. "I'm sorry," Kamui whispered, suddenly finding the handle of the porcelain cup very interesting. "It's just you look so much like Kotori." Fuuma smiled at the comment. Boy was this man a bad liar.

"She is my sister after all," Fuuma replied smoothly, staring at Kamui's lowered head, bending a little to try to see those amethyst eyes. "Kamui? Are you alright?" Kamui nodded, looking up once again, trying to shake off the embarrassment of being caught. His hand reached for the cup again, taking one long sip from it. The evening was still quite young, though most of the shops around them had already closed.

Silence commenced until Kamui finished his tea.

"It's getting late," Kamui stated; that spectacular voice of one of Japan's top vocalist worthy of its title. Fuuma nodded, gathering his cloak closer around him. Kamui stared at him again.

"Are you cold?"
"Photoshoot?" Kamui nodded. He was in front of the dresser, easily putting on the contacts he was asked to use for the photo shoot. He had invited Fuuma over to lunch, but Fuuma had arrived two hours early. Strange.

Unfortunately, the time Fuuma came was the exact time he was leaving for a photo shoot.

Kamui introduced his brother-in-law to his band, his guitarist Subaru, bass Nataku and his drummer Seishirou (whee! Such a nice band...drool). Nataku had taken a liking to Fuuma, and the rest had welcomed him warmly too. After all, he was their best friend's brother-in-law, and he was certainly handsome.
Fuuma watched the beautiful man stand in front of the paper background, his attire nothing but a white long sleeved button down shirt that wasn't buttoned at all but tucked into the tight black pants that almost slid off those slender hips, the only thing holding them up was a black leather belt with a silver buckle. His skin was almost white. His hairdresser had done well in making Kamui's hair look exotic, almost like a picture.

He loved it.

Kamui looked like a fallen angel. His shirt revealed so much of his flesh, and those pants... Should he add on black wings, he would have caused Fuuma a nose-bleed.
Kamui tried to ignore the way his brother-in-law drooled at him. In fact, he ignored everyone who drooled at him. Everyone except the people he liked. And ye gods did he like his brother in law. But he denied it. He told himself that he did not like men. No, no, no, no. He liked women more than men. It was only right.

He did as the photographer told him to do; smiling that devilish smile he was so used to playing upon his face. He was doing it for some j-rock magazine that was very popular among teenage girls. His manager said it would increase his popularity (as if he wasn't popular enough). He did all sorts of poses, with toys (don't think dirty!), cloth, feathers. He was even told to bite the case of his band's newest single. He had a few shots with his band members, when the photographer requested them to dress up all Victorian. He liked dressing up. He liked it very much. They had heavy make up on their faces; Kamui's skin being pale spared him the uneasiness of hiding the true colour of the skin under white powder. Though his make-up artist had forced the dark lipstick on every one of them.
It was like a dream. Everyone in his band looked so perfect Fuuma felt out of place. They were all rich and good looking people... Fuuma had to leave. It just felt so wrong to be here.
Kamui watched in wonder as his brother in law waved to him and his band mates. Was he leaving already? But he couldn't go! They had agreed to lunch! Just as his brother in law was about to put one foot out the door, Kamui asked the photographer for a "pause". He caught Fuuma's arm.

"Where are you going?" Kamui's gaze seemed so determined he just couldn't help stuttering. "I-I just remembered I had s-something on..." Kamui had not let go of his arm. He did not seem to care about what the photographer was saying. "I don't believe you." Fuuma felt guilty all of a sudden, a slight blush on his cheeks, realising the sin of lying to this beautiful man.

"We agreed to lunch, and we WILL have lunch." Kamui's glare was so intense it frightened him. He could hear Kamui's friends sniggering. Seishirou spoke up. "I think we should stop here... We won't want our little prodigy to let loose on a tantrum again, do we?" Subaru replied coolly, that same uninterested look on his face, "He left the studio in such a mess when we stood him up that time we told him we'd go to the movies with him." Fuuma stiffened.

"Mess?"

"Kamui is known for throwing tantrums. You should see the studio now. They haven't fixed the window of the recording studio door yet."

It then hit him darn hard that he did not know his brother in law well at all. Kamui was smirking.

"You wouldn't want me to tell Kotori that you're bullying me, now do you?"

Fuuma swallowed as he heard his weak spot brought up. Kotori wasn't a person you would want to mess with.
As they were leaving, the photographer had to be shown the way out of the building by security when Seishirou said enough. They had only spent one hour on the photos, and the man was yelling that it was not enough, that he'd be fired should he not take anymore pictures.

The band did not seem to care.

Nataku's friend came to pick him up, Seishirou and Subaru had something "urgent" to do, leaving Kamui and Fuuma to lunch alone. Just the two of them.

They dined at the same café they did last night. The waiter was elated as he took Kamui's order.

Fuuma felt so out of place around Kamui it almost felt wrong just knowing him.