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.
Bold is for English.
Chapter Twelve: Who's Your Daddy?
"Kiri.." Jun whined, heaving a sigh soon after, "You're so boring tonight. You're not even the moody-leave-me-alone guy anymore. You are simply... depressing." The blonde poked Kiriko's forehead, only to get his hand swatted away seconds later.
"Leave me alone." The Japanese glared, his grey eyes narrowing ever so slightly.
Kiriko got up from where he sat on the sofa and walked to the kitchen area of the male models dormitory. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Jun's boredom or any of the overly-talkative models that were currently hanging around the dorm. It was too suffocating to be here, to listen to those careless laughs that floated around the rooms.
He wanted to get away from it all.
There was shuffling behind Kiriko, but he didn't turn around to face the person that had followed him."Kiri, what's up with you?" Jun's voice seemed to be a tad bit serious than before.
"Nothing. Leave me alone." The black-haired man replied while searching for a clean cup. "I just don't feel like entertaining you tonight." He poured some orange juice for himself.
When the Japanese turned around he met with the green eyes that seemed to search through his soul when they connected with his own. Jun could do this, when he wanted to. He could stare at you, as if he could see the deepest parts of you that would be better off hidden. That's why Kiriko didn't like him. That's why he didn't want to communicate with the other model.
He wanted to keep things hidden, the way it has been for a long time.
"What?" he curtly asked, bringing the cup to his lips.
Jun waved his hand and walked away. "Nothing, nothing. But you should really stop acting like a tsundere in love, it brings the mood down." He snickered at the choking sounds coming from behind him and joined the others in the game of twister.
"Who's a tsundere?" Kiriko managed to yell back, but it didn't have much effect on the blonde.
Though, he knew all too well that what Jun said might be… somewhat true. Not that he would admit to others, but for so many years he had been afraid to show people his scars. For so long he had been avoiding talking about the physical and emotional torment with others. And yet, the Japanese saw all those deep scars etched in his skin and didn't question them.
Really. What was happening to him?
Kiriko sighed, placing the cup down on the table and leaned against it. He was supposed to be the 'cool, emotionless type', not this depressed, snappy version of himself. What was he, a high-school girl in love? Kiriko's face twisted at that thought, no possible way.
But maybe, just maybe… he should agree to that offer after all?
"Mshter, what are you doing with my daddy?" the little kid asked, his honey-colored eyes shining in curiosity.
Keigo blinked a few times and looked down on the man that was sleeping in his arms now. "Daddy?" he looked back at the child, not missing the strange similarities in the child's face with his own, "Is Ry-Echizen your father, child?"
"Un. So let go of daddy." The little boy said, his free, small hand clutching to Ryoma's larger one. "Daddy doesn't like to be touched by people." Those honey-colored eyes shone with the same fighting spirit as Ryoma's had long ago. It was the same spark that Keigo remembered.
"Don't worry, I was just helping him." Keigo stammered out and got a better hold of the sleeping man in his arms, "If you let go, I can put him back in the bed." He wasn't sure what to do now. Sure, he wanted to come and see both Ryoma and his kid, but to meet like this…
He got up and walked to the white hospital bed. After lying Ryoma down on the crumpled sheets Keigo covered him with the blanket and gently pushed the few strands of hair away from the model's face. It has been a long time since Keigo had the chance to touch Ryoma like this. His fingers no longer remembered the smoothness of Ryoma's skin.
He turned away from the model and faced the child again.
Keigo expected the child to be like Ryoma, in many ways. Not even just in looks, some of Ryoma's personality should be inherited too. But what he didn't understand were those small traits that reminded Keigo of… of himself (the light purple heir was just one of them).
He probably just found a woman that looked somewhat like me. Because... he stopped that track of thought and shook his head slightly. Impossible, that was impossible, surely. But this child… he couldn't quite shake off that feeling that came over him when looking at the kid.
"Mister. Who are you?" it was a simple question that left the child's mouth. Actually, Keigo thought to himself, that should have been the first thing to find out. But then again, it didn't matter that much.
Keigo found a small stool under the bed Ryoma was occupying and sat on it. "I am.. An old friend of your dad's. Keigo Atobe is my name." he didn't bother to say much more; usually this was enough to please the little brats. "You are his boy, am I right?" just for the sake of it, Keigo wanted the child to confirm what was so painfully obvious.
"I'm Shuya. And that's my daddy." The small boy pointed to the sleeping model. The bear that the child was clutching in his hands until now fell on the floor and was left there as Shuya climbed on one of the worn-out chairs.
Keigo didn't know what to do now. He couldn't ask all the questions he wished to, for the child, around three years old from the looks of it, didn't possess the answers. And besides, it was too… awkward now; the child only stared at him and nothing else. If a doctor came or something, then at least… But no, Keigo was alone with a three year old and his passed out father.
"Ne, mister." Surprisingly, Shuya was the first one to talk, bringing Keigo out of his inner debate. For a little brat he was pretty can-do. "If you know my daddy, do you also know my mommy? Daddy said that she is in Japan."
Keigo blinked. Mommy? So then, Ryoma had a fling with some Japanese woman three years ago? Wait, then he also had been going astray at the end of their already broken relationship? Or maybe it was after Ryoma had walked out of his life, never looking back?
Keigo looked at the sleeping form of the model and his ex, not really knowing how to answer the child. "I… I am not that family-"
The door to the hospital room was thrown open (Keigo hadn't noted that the doors had been closed at some point) and the slightly older version of Ryoma walked in, a bag full of sweets in one hand and some alcoholic beverages in the other. The man stopped his movements and focused his eyes on Keigo, the gaze strong and burning, almost the same color of gold as Ryoma's eyes were. He narrowed his eyes, then sighed and threw the bags on the small table next to the ward door.
He then turned to Shuya and put his hands in the pockets of his pants, "Go and play with the brats in the play room, I have something to talk with him." It was perfect Japanese that the man used to speak to the kid.
"Okai, uncle." Shuya laughed and jumped off from the chair, waved to Keigo goodbye and ran out of the room, his little footsteps echoing from the hallways for a little while until the door was closed shut.
The man threw a look at the bed, where Ryoma was sleeping and then allowed his eyes to travel back to Keigo. "Why are you here?" he asked, not bothering to be polite.
Keigo wasn't stupid; he guessed this was Ryoma's big brother, the one that he had heard so much about after the whole "tennis-competition-on-the-fake-ship" incident. Ryoma still kept contact with him after all that, that much Keigo knew. Though, he has never met with Ryoga before, Keigo didn't quite know why though. But Ryoga never came to Japan too, so he figured that the older brother didn't quite accept of his relationship with Ryoma from the very beginning.
"Because…" Keigo started, not really sure what to do now, but still determined about his choice. "Because, I want to see him smile again. I want to erase the pain that I have caused and somehow, in whatever way it is necessary, get him back." He was a brave man, but still, his hands shook lightly as he talked.
"Bullshit." Ryoga hissed low and swore under his breath, "Stop bullshitting me and everybody else. The only reason you're here is because you're envious of my lil' bro'." the older Echizen stepped closer to the businessman and leaned down a bit, "You want him only because he, unlike you, is somewhat happy now."
The way that Ryoma's brother was now looking at him, with the eyes of an animal, made unwanted shivers run up and down Keigo's back. He felt like being trapped in a cage, together with a lion that hasn't been fed yet.
Ryoga slowly breathed in, eyes narrowing and getting a bit darker: "I will not give my lil' bro' to you."
"Amagi-san, what are you doing here? You should be at the dorms right now." Anzu blinked, putting the papers she was carrying on the table. "And if you are looking or Atobe-san, he's not here." She placed the few loose strands of hair behind her ear and looked at the model.
Kiriko made a face at being called by his surname – he hated when people did that. "I don't need him. I wanted to know the address of Aurora's Kiss." He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, tilting his head on the right a little.
Anzu raised one eyebrow and crossed her hands over her chest. "There is this thing called internet; learn to use it for once. You are not allowed in here. Out." She never did like models; they always thought that everything was allowed for them. So she never failed to let them see her dislike towards them and what they did.
"Listen, just because you were dumped by that gu-" he recoiled back, barely evading the sharp nails that were aiming for his cheek. "Are you crazy?" he stepped back from the woman a little. "My face is what helps me survive in this industry."
The woman made a face, "Never mention your brother in front of me again. Now get out." She was breathing heavily; her chest was going up and down, the white blouse moving together with it. "Damn you, models. Always caring only about your looks."
"Now, now, Anzu-chan. That's not how someone working in the modeling industry should talk. But you know that already, don't you?" Fuji stepped between the two, unnoticed until now like always and smiled. "You too, Kiriko. Don't make her mad."
The secretary glared at the photographer and the model and turned away, grabbing her purse from the table. She didn't say a word as she walked away from them. However, once she reached the glass door she turned around and glared at the two men. "I will report this to Atobe-san and you both will be punished for being here."
"You will be too, since you are leaving us here. Alone." Fuji chuckled, his eyes opened a little, letting the electrifying blue shine in the dark, "Or do you wish to be punished? I wonder…" he liked the pale face that Anzu made; it only gave him the pleasure to continue.
The secretary gritted her teeth and after throwing Fuji a look of utter hate and disgust left the room, kicking the door shut after herself. Once the echo of her high heels stopped Fuji laughed out and pushed back some loose strands of his hair, facing Kirko.
"Really, that woman never changes." He sighed, "Even now she still does everything to destroy all of Atobe's relationships. Really, what a scary woman." He flipped through the documents that Anzu had forgotten of the table.
Kiriko merely stared. He knew more than enough to stay shut around Fuji. It was never good to talk too much around Fuji, who knows what might happen. But still, Kiriko was curious. "Fuji-san, what are you doing here?"
"Hmmm?" Fuji stopped flipping the pages and threw the model a quick look, "I merely came back to get my place tickets. I'm going on a small, unplanned vacation tomorrow, so it wouldn't be too good if the tickets were to be forgotten, now would it?" he smiled and let go of the white pages. "Echizen's file is in that drawer." He pointed out and also turned to leave.
Kirkio looked at the black drawer that Fuji pointed out and then back at the photographer's back. "Are you sure you should be helping me? I mean, aren't you friends with Atobe?" he wasn't blind and stupid – it was easy to tell that his boss and the American model have had a past together.
And Fuji knew about it.
"I am. But that doesn't mean I support him." He waved his hand and then made a peace sign, "Good luck, Kiriko."
The Japanese model sighed; why were all the photographers he knew so weird? But then again, this one actually helped him. Kiriko then opened the drawer Fuji had pointed out and started to search for the file that interested him; he had to be quick or else Jun, or someone else, might notice his absence.
"New York…" he muttered to himself after opening Ryoma's file, "I should get ready then."
Ryoga slowly breathed in, eyes narrowing and getting a bit darker: "I will not give my lil' bro' to you. Not after you knocked him up and then decided that it would be fun to dump him." Ryoga leaned away from Keigo, barely containing the urge to hit his stupid face.
It didn't seem that Keigo would take all of this lying down. "First of all," he got up from the chair and pointed at Ryoma, "He was the one that dumped me, not that I didn't deserve it. And second of all, Ryoma is capable of deciding that for himself."
Both men were not going to back down or let the other talk shit in his face. Especially Ryoga, for he didn't want to see his little brother crying and depressed again. "Listen here, you rich fuck," he grabbed Keigo by the collar of his shirt, "that doesn't change the fact that you had the guts to hurt him even after knocking him up. Ass."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Keigo had finally gotten his head around what Ryoga was growling at him, "What 'knocking up' are you talking about? He's a man!" he grabbed Ryoga's hand and shook it off from himself.
Ryoga looked surprised for a second, but then a feral grin bloomed on his face. "Ohhh… So you don't know? Ryoma did say he kept quiet about himself to you. Ahahaha! So you don't know, huh?" he walked to the sleeping model and brushed the green tinted hair away from Ryoma's closed eyes. "My baby brother isn't a normal male, you know."
Keigo's eyes widened in surprise to what the other male was saying right now, but before he could retort Ryoga talked again. "You see…" he said, hands gently covering Ryoma's ears, "He's what you'd call a freak."
A/N: This took so long for reasons. Forgive me.
On a side note – I wonder if those guys, that do the voices of BL games ever get embarrassed or awkward when doing sex scenes? I was thinking about this while listening to Lucky Dog Autumn Chance. It was awkward even for me, so what about them?
Yes, I listen to gay porn. Yes, I am a pervert.