Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, no real humans were used to make this story and the characters featured in this piece of work do not belong to me. Also, I do not make any profit from this.
Warning: possible grammar and spelling mistakes, as well as missing letters and/or words.
There will also be detailed sex scenes and possible violence, as well as bad language and slang words. This is/will be an mpreg (male pregnancy) story, so if this offends you please do not read it and turn back now.
Thank you for your understanding.
Main Pairing: Royal Pair.
Chapter Five: Kiriko.
"So, did you get there safely?" Ryoga's voice cracked through the mobile phone speaker and echoed around the pretty empty room.
Ryoma closed the refrigerator door and placed the glass bottle on the small kitchen table. "Yeah. I slept through most of the flight, so… How's Shuya?" he rummaged through the small cabinets in search of a glass or a cup, both worked.
"Your brat?" there was a small pause, "he's all good. Moping a bit, but that's all. Now he's sleeping though." It sounded like the television was making noise in the background.
"Hmm… That's good then." Ryoma had managed to find what he was looking for and now he was sipping the apple juice from the orange cup. "Anything else?"
There seemed to be some kind of shuffling on Ryoga's end again. "Kevin called, said something about that old boss of yours and then something I didn't understand. Said that he'll be going to Japan in the end, I think." Ryoga coughed. "Did you meet him?"
"I did." Ryoma looked out of the window. The slowly darkening sky sure was beautiful tonight.
Ryoga sounded a bit worried. "And?"
"What 'and'?" Ryoma laughed a bitter laugh; he never had thought that just one meeting would hurt this much. "It was…. Painful and I just… It hurt, that's all there is to it." His voice almost broke into a whisper, but he held it. He had to be strong and hide this. From everyone.
A sigh reached his ears, "I thought as much. Remember, there is someone who still needs you here. Hang in there, night."
"Night Ryoga." The phone became silent and the fast beeps soon filled the speaker.
The model let the little thing lie numbly in his hand, the small sound not ending and filing the empty room as he gazed out of the window and into the sky that was now painted in darker and lighter tones of red, orange and blue. His eyes held a faraway look, as if memories, from log ago, were flashing before his eyes and making him feel the suffocating pang of pain.
Even after all this time, it was still there.
And it hurt so much.
Two days later Ryoma could be found in one of the numerous photo shooting places of '13'. He was wearing a similar silver yukata to the one that Jun had on before. He had tied his locks in a small ponytail bhind his head, few strand falling on his face, and allowed the yukata to part a little on his chest.
Kiriko was dressed in the same dark blue yukata that he wore two days before. And his hair was let loose and from time to time fell in front of his face when he walked or moved. Turned out, he was just a little bit taller than Ryoma, so they complemented each other very nicely. At least, that was what Fuji had said when he saw the two together.
The make-up artists did a small job on their faces, coloring their eye lines darker, making the grey and gold stand out and powdering their faces to get that pale look, the one that spoke of long journeys and things that cannot be told to others.
"Ok now. Let's do that pose we talked about earlier." The photograph said to the two black-haired models and got ready his camera.
Kiriko scratched his neck, "Which one? We talked about a lot of them." He glanced at Ryoma for a moment, but then his eyes wandered back to Fuji, who was still in the process of checking his camera.
"The two of you pressing your backs together and smirking towards the camera pose. That one please." Fuji turned to look at them, camera all ready for work and face serious, professional.
"Haai." Kiriko lazily answered and got into the position, Ryoma following after him.
They stood facing away from each other and backs pressed together. Kiriko's right arm sneaked around Ryoma's left one, the fingers winding around the seemingly frail wrist and bringing the said hand up. Ryoma merely raised an eyebrow and looked strangely amused when Kiriko pressed his lips on the upper part of his palm.
The camera never stopped clicking, Fuji smirking behind it. This is what he loved about Kiriko and Ryoma. They both knew how to improvise and turn the whole thing in their own peace; doing what they wanted and making it look good. "Good." He smirked, "Ryoma, show something in return for me now." Fuji watched in delight as those golden eyes glinted in mischief.
The said model seemed to think for a while and then a devilish smirk crawled on his angelic face. He faced Kiriko, eyes twinkling in amusement and mischief, and wrapped his hands around the others neck. He made the Japanese model hold his whole weight and leaned close to the other's right ear, eyes shifting to look at Fuji, and whispered something in Kiriko's ear.
Shivers ran down the Japanese model's spine.
Fuji managed to catch the surprised expression on Kiriko's face before it once again was twisted into the one he usually used when modeling. A serious and yet playful, a combination only Kiriko could come up with and show.
"Were done for this one, you two." Fuji looked at them for a split second and went to see, if he could get the pictures to show on the big screen for a better view. "You can change and get ready for the next shoot. The black ones are for that and they go together with the white scarves." Fuji waved at the dressing room where the stylists were already getting ready for a new make-up session.
"So now we have to wear the black ones?" Ryoma went through the clothes hung for them. "Isn't this for a girl?" he muttered to himself after finding the one with his name on it.
Kiriko peeked over his shoulder. "I think that the name just got stuck there from a different piece. See?" he pulled out a grey bag and opened it up, "This one has no name on it. Maybe it's yours?" he hung it over Ryoma's shoulder and went to change, his hips swinging as he walked.
"Interesting guy." Ryoma shook his head and, after placing the dress thing back on the rack, headed to the changing rooms too. He managed to spot Fuji, talking on the phone with someone, that real smile playing on the corners of his lips. "I wonder, who made Fuji-san so happy. Definitely not that man, that's for sure." He averted his eyes and disappeared behind the white changing room door.
"You both ready?" Fuji looked over his shoulder at the two men in black suits, no shirts under the jackets and the white scarves wrapped loosely around their necks. "Echizen, sit on that sofa." He nodded with his head on the white piece of furniture in the middle of the white room. Surely, moved there while the two of them were changing.
"Isn't this a bit rushed? From Japanese style to western?" Ryoma asked, but sat down in his place anyway, the bored expression on his face. Somewhat perfect for this shoot.
There was a small pause before Fuji said anything. "Yes well… That's for our director and boss to decide. Blame that stupid man for this." He sighed and showed Kiriko his place. "Act high society like. Yes Echizen, just like that."
"I wasn't even trying." Ryoma sighed and looked at the camera with cold eyes. The image that was brought up by the mention of high class only brought a pang of hurt and pain to him. But this wasn't the place to show it; not here, not anywhere else.
Kiriko's arm rested on Ryoma's shoulders and he leaned down to whisper to the model in his ear: "Keep your face straight. Just now, for a split second, there was this strange expression on your face." he watched as those golden orbs turn to look into his grey ones, "Do you hate the high-class people perhaps?"
"Hate is a mild way of putting it." Ryoma whispered back and leaned against the sofa and brought his right hand up to slide his own pair of slender fingers through his hair, lifting his chin up a bit and looking at the camera from over his nose. Just like a certain someone used to do a long time ago.
"Good." Fuji said, "That arrogance is exactly what I want." The camera once again clicked non-stop.
It was quite cold when both Kiriko and Ryoma came out of the building that they used for the photo shoot. The cold fall evenings were the worst. The later it got the colder it was, even their breath colored white when meeting with the chilly air.
"Going home?" Kiriko asked the man besides him and started to walk deeper into to the neon lights and the booming music.
Ryoma shivered a bit and pulled the light jacked tighter around himself. "As if I have anywhere else to go. Besides," he yawned, "I have another shoot tomorrow."
Kiriko eyed Ryoma from the corner of his eye, "Singles or doubles?" the interest in his voice was a fake one; it was easy to tell and he didn't try to hide it.
"Singles." Was the single word that came past Ryoma's lips as he shivered again. He was never good with the cold, not even the usual coldness of summer nights. So much for being born in winter.
There was a pause of silence between them. Kiriko took off his scarf and stepped in front of Ryoma, blocking his path. The latter looked up a bit, confusion shining in his eyes, but not showing on the face. The amused smile that tugged on Kiriko's lips was enough to make Ryoma shake his head too.
"What now?" the shorter of the two asked, the white puffs of his breath tickled Kiriko's face. Just so close they were standing.
In swift movements the Japanese model tied his scarf around Ryoma's neck and laughed a bit, his own puffs of white clouding Ryoma's sight for a little while. "Just taking care of my fellow model. Can't?" those grey eyes sparkling in mirth, reminding Ryoma of a certain middle school sempai of his.
"No, it's fine." He chuckled, tightening the given scarf a bit, "It's up to you to do what you want. And answer about the consequences." He flashed his companion a grin, something that still lingered from when he was still young and could play tennis.
Kiriko watched as the model walked past him and thought it over a bit. "Are there?"
"Hmm?" Ryoma didn't turn around.
"Are there really consequences? Or are you just making that up?" he ran to catch up. The wind tossed his black locks around and tickled his nose and cheeks with its cold breath.
He didn't see Ryoma's face, but the sudden change in his voice, though, he couldn't tell why and exactly what had changed, could be heard quite well. "I wonder…"
Kiriko opened his mouth to ask something to the other, but his eyes caught a sight of his boss, Atobe Keigo, looking in their direction, half of his body already in the car. It seemed that he had gotten out of work a little earlier than the usual time.
He then looked at Ryoma, who either didn't notice or ignored the man, and then back, at his boss. Whatever had happened between them, it was something big. He wanted to know, kind of, but then again, meddling into others life was not his idea of a hobby. Though, he could try and get a reaction out of the two, or at least one, to see what exactly was between them.
He ran up to Ryoma again and slipped his right hand around Ryoma's left, the other merely looking at him with wide eyes, this time, even his face was showing surprise. "Aren't we going a bit fast here?"
So it seemed that Ryoma had nothing against gay people; he probably even was one, Kiriko thought and pulled Ryoma a bit closer, so that they looked like a couple. "It's just for something I want to check. I do this with everyone, don't worry." He lied, but it's not like the other would be able to tell.
"Liar." Ryoma's soft voice fluttered to his ears thought the wind. "This is for your own personal fun, isn't it?" he sounded bored and almost apathetic now.
An amused smile crawled on Kiriko's face. "You could tell? That's a first for me you know." He laughed a bit as they both turned at a corner and left the '13's building behind them.
"I can tell lies now pretty easily, since I got hurt once already." The bitterness in Ryoma's voice was so clear, the owner not trying to hide it at all. "Life can be cruel, but you probably know that too, don't you?"
Kiriko became bitter himself, though the feeling of someone who understands is next to him made it easier. "So you saw them? Heh, do you want to hear the story behind them too?" he tried to sound somewhat normal.
"When you are ready." Ryoma patted his shoulder and got out of his hold. "Good night for now, Kiriko." He nodded with his head a bit and turned around to walk in one of the apartment buildings.
Kiriko only shook his head and went his own way. The night was still young.
A/N: Is it just me, or are the chapters getting shorter, bit by bit? Strange…
But, it's not like I can't make them longer, I just don't feel the need to do it, since then it will just be too much everything.
Either way, thanks for sticking with this and I hope that it's not getting boring with this entire 'no-actual-action' mode. Sorry about that… -.-