stencilled: (nakame is precious)
[personal profile] stencilled
Title: Red, White and Some Pink
Pairing: NaKame
Rating: PG
Word Count: 3,488
Note: This is the late White Day sequel to my Valentine's fic Chocolate Toss. Written for [livejournal.com profile] naricina and [livejournal.com profile] iside89. ♥♥
Summary: Nakamaru fights a losing battle that exists only in his mind.



When Nakamaru awoke from a dream that was more of a nightmare, visions of himself dressed in Kame's Lost My Way costume -silky cape and glittery pants and all- and attempting a hip thrust as a stadium full of fans cheered him on still playing in his mind, he knew today was going to be a bad day.

When Nakamaru arrived at the studio, late because the image of his swirling hips first thing in the morning had nearly traumatised him and he had needed some time to bleach his mind with several cups of coffee (though he had told the staff it was due to traffic), and discovered that the theme of the magazine shoot was something akin to bondage, he knew today was going to be a very bad day.

When Nakamaru learned that his outfit for the photo shooting incorporated no argyle whatsoever, no sweater or vest or even a small bowtie, no patch of diamond at all (Nakamaru had made sure to ask many, many times), but instead involved strips of leather and mostly skin, he knew everything was going to go downhill from there onward.

"What about my university student image?" he'd asked helplessly to which his stylist had sympathetically patted him on the back and said, "We're going for the sexy, wild student look this time around."

A tiny piece of him had screamed in horror and died on the inside.

Sexy and wild. Nakamaru knew they were out there, but he made a habit of avoiding those types around his campus. And if they went around sporting bondage costumes during their free time, then, well. Nakamaru was going to keep on avoiding. Different tastes and all.

Now fully changed, Nakamaru looked at himself in the mirror as the make up artists finished fluttering around him and prayed to whoever was listening that no one he knew ever bought the March issue of Myojo.

"I have ten year old fans," he whimpered at his reflection and then nearly had a heart attack when Koki's head popped up over his shoulder.

Nakamaru swatted him away, being careful not to jostle the other's carefully gelled hair which had been styled into an inky black wave.

"When did you get so fine," Koki whistled and Nakamaru valiantly fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest.

"I was always this fine," he said instead and instantly regretted it as Koki, and Taguchi and Ueda who were nearby and must have heard him, started howling with laughter. The director came to his rescue just before his face could reach the particular shade which his sister fondly liked to call tomato red.

As the director explained the theme of the shoot, though really, the tight leather said it all, a draft blew through the studio as the door opened and Maru shivered, finally giving in and trying to cover the patches of his chest indecently exposed between the black leather strips with his hands; he had never longed for his sweater-vest so much in his entire life.

"Ah! Kamenashi-kun is here now. Let's get the shoot started! I know you popular boys must have plans for White Day," the director said with a loud clap and Nakamaru snapped his head up just in time to see Kame sidle up next to him, a skimpy curtain of chain metal -chain metal- hanging over his shoulders and temporarily distracting him.

"White Day?" he asked, recovering his bearings.

When Kame answered with a wink and and a slow smirk, casually resting his bare elbow on Nakamaru's shoulder, and leaning in to whisper, "I have something for you~", Nakamaru knew today was going to be a very, very bad day.

In other words, he was more or less screwed.

-

"And that's a wrap!"

The director called and Nakamaru pulled away the second the photographer shut the lens, lest Kame got the chance for another grope and Nakamaru embarrassed himself yet again. He was grateful that the sexy, wild look only required pouting and staringy stonily at the camera, with him being a natural at freezing up around Kame and all. Nakamaru doubted he could manage a proper smile -at least, not one that wasn't stilted- with Kame's hand skimming his backside.

"What's wrong with him?" Nakamaru heard Ueda ask as he made a beeline for the changing rooms.

"I don't know...maybe he has something planned for White Day."

A second after Kame's words sunk in, Nakamaru heard the room erupt into laughter. Someday, Nakamaru thought with vengeance, someday he would be the KAT-TUN member who got the last laugh.

"I thought he was very good though. Very coy. Perfect for this month's edition!"

As the howls started up again, Nakamaru wondered why the director had suddenly turned on him, too.

He closed the changing door behind him, sealing off the laughter, and peeled away the straps and buckles as quickly as he could without damaging the costume. Chances were that this flimsy piece of leather cost more than his monthly rent. Life was unfair that way, Nakamaru had learned long ago.

-

Nakamaru successfully managed to avoid Kame for the entire lunch hour, which wasn't much of a feat considering Kame's busy schedule and the interviews he had booked in between, but Nakamaru eagerly claimed the victory, however small it was; he didn't win many in the first place to allow him to be picky. But the lunch hour eventually ended and Nakamaru trudged into the meeting room like a soldier going into war. It wouldn't be so bad, he told himself. They were going to have a meeting with their manager about KAT-TUN's anniversary tour and Kame couldn't possibly pull anything on him -literally speaking- with everyone watching.

Nakamaru chose to ignore the fact that Kame had managed to grope him several times just a few hours ago in the focus of a camera without getting caught. It didn't help him collect the scraps of courage he was looking for.

But Maru was back in his argyle sweater, more in his element now, so to speak (he momentarily paused to wonder if that meant chain mail and leather were Kame's element, but the answer to that was obvious). He could do this! He could spend an hour in close vicinity with Kame and his lonely hands and come out with his dignity intact. You're a man's man, he told himself as he smoothed down his sweater and then tried not to think about what he'd just said. It's a figure of speech!

"About time you got here," Koki drawled as Nakamaru walked in and with a quick survey of the room realized that the only free chair at the table was next to Kame, with Koki and Ueda sitting across from him and Junno and their manager at the opposite ends of the table. He looked away when Kame gave him a wave and gestured to the chair. Nakamaru could be gullible, but he wasn't an idiot. He was not about to walk into Kame's trap just like that.

Or at all, if he could help it.

"I had a big lunch," Nakamaru said, pulling out a pen from his pocket and kneeling down to tie his shoe laces - only they were already tied. But he needed a distraction and he had already crouched down, so Nakamaru tugged them loose and tied them back once again, dropping his pen in the process. They all watched the blue ballpoint roll across the floor and hit the wall.

"Hey, Ueda," Nakamaru said as he stood up, "mind getting that for me?"

Ueda, who was slumped onto the table, bowed his head to look at the pen and then slowly glanced back up at Nakamaru, his expression incredulous, as if Nakamaru had just asked him to go bald again.

"What do you think?"

Right, well. Wrong person to ask.

"Koki?" Nakamaru tried.

"Why can't you just get it yourself?"

Nakamaru hated his groupmates.

"You're closer."

"I can get it," Taguchi offered and Nakamaru shot him a look. Taguchi, looking somewhat perplexed, thankfully overcame his KY-ness and got the message, raising his hands at Nakamaru in an appeasing gesture.

When Nakamaru didn't budge, Koki finally released a loud sigh, muttering "You are such a lazy ass," under his breath and moved to get the pen. Nakamaru gave an internal cheer; he hated his groupmates - but he loved Koki.

As soon as Koki had vacated his seat, Nakamaru moved to occupy it, ignoring the stares he was getting from all around the table.

"What are you doing?" Koki asked once he had the pen.

"Sitting."

Always straight and to the point, Nakamaru was.

"In my chair."

"I didn't see your name on it," Nakamaru replied, completely aware that he was acting like a five year old (his inner pre-teen girl taking the backseat), but this was war. Drastic times called for drastic measures and he was ready to use any means necessary.

Koki blinked down at him and then moved to the empty chair with a disgusted shake of his head.

"Juri's older than you," he said as he sat down next to Kame. "And I'm keeping this pen now, by the way."

Nakamaru shrugged back, ignoring the irony. A pen was a good trade for victory, he thought as he sent a smug look at Kame who sat directly across him, a decent distance away, his plan now foiled.

Kame smiled back sweetly, "Shall we start?"

Nakamaru felt his victory slip away.

-

"So any ideas for this year's tour?" their manager asked and the room flooded with suggestions, everyone talking over each other. There were mentions of race cars and fireworks and wild animals - absurd things that made Nakamaru frown sympathetically at their manager. He hoped the man was getting paid enough.

"Let's do cosplay again!" Junno piped up cheerily. "We can dress up as celebrities. I want to be Perfume!"

"We've already done cosplay, and that's gross."

"But Koki's an expert at it," Junno returned brightly and Koki threw his pen at him.

"Careful! That could have taken my eye out," Junno said with a smile that made everyone take a deep breath, "and we wouldn't want that to happen, now would we?"

Nakamaru wondered if he would ever be brave enough to withstand the collective force of KAT-TUN's glares as Junno did. But Junno was a special one.

"Anything else?" their manager asked with a sigh and Nakamaru thought it would be the right time to mention that he was working on a new beatboxing technique - but then something suddenly prodded at his ankle and Nakamaru stiffened.

He shot a glance at Kame who blinked back at him innocently.

"I think Nakamaru wants to bungee jump again," Kame said, just as something stroked up Nakamaru's calf and down again. The following series of events were not something Nakamaru was proud of and would later try to permenantly erase from his memory.

With a loud squawk, Nakamaru jolted in his seat, his knees jerking up and slamming underneath the tabletop with a loud thud. He hissed through the pain, still startled, and pushed away from the table in a hurry -his other calf was in danger of molestation!- and landed sprawled on the floor, face flushed and knees aching.

Ueda peered down at him.

"Seriously, what is wrong with you?"

Nakamaru slowly sat up and took his seat, making a production of dusting off his clothes even though the floor was spotless, everyone's silent stares making him nervous. He risked a peek at Kame and didn't know what to make of the concern on the other's face.

"I...uh," he said, clearing his throat. "I just don't want to bungee jump again."

At Ueda's snort, Nakamaru shrugged. It's all he could do with his dignity shattered into a hundred embarrassing pieces.

-

Once the meeting ended and Kame had him cornered, everyone leaving him to his doom in a true act of memeber-love, Nakamaru decided it was time to meet his fate head-on. No more running. Dignity intact or not, he'd stand strong like Rescue had taught him to.

Kame was standing in the way to the door, anyway.

"You have something for me?"

Best to get this over with quickly. And Kame probably hadn't expected him to make the first move, Nakamaru thought proudly.

"Yeah," Kame answered and pulled out a square box wrapped in silver foil, a white ribbon tastefully decorating the top in a quaint little bow. "Here you go."

Nakamaru eyed the box with distate. "I'm not a girl."

"Really? I wasn't sure. You never take off your towel...," Kame giggled and Nakamaru bit the inside of his cheek to tamp down the colouring rising to his face. It was now most likely a piglet pink, Nakamaru thought and then winced, cursing at his sister.

"I don't like chocolates."

"Good," Kame replied. "It's not chocolate and it's not for you. I bought it for your sister. Tell her Happy White Day for me."

Nakamaru's shoulders fell into a slump, out of relief or disappointment, he'd rather not know. He felt a part of him wilting inside and figured that explained it all. With a polite thank you, he accepted the box and then stood fiddling with the bow as Kame surveyed him.

His sister was going to be over the moon. Kame had probably bought her something ridiculously expensive, something grand in return for a box of conbini chocolates. Nakamaru pulled roughly at the bow, making the lobes lopsided and imperfect - and felt better. His inner school girl cheered him on.

"Are you okay?"

Nakamaru paused in his mission to disfigure the box and gulped. Was he being too obvious?

"You've been acting weird today," Kame elaborated. "Weirder than usual. First during the photo shoot and then at the meeting... I'm sorry about the bungee joke. I didn't realize you were still so scared of it."

Nakamaru stared as Kame ducked his head down in apology, a less formal version of his deep bows. It was still formal enough to make Nakamaru stare on in disbelief.

"You're apologizing for the joke?" Nakamaru clarified and then a thought occurred to him. "Wait. Is this a joke?" Nakamaru gestured between them.

"Yes. I mean no," Kame answered, looking equally confused as he felt. "Yes to the first. No to the second. I really am sorry."

For the joke.

The joke.

Out of all the things to apologize for... Not that Nakamaru truly wanted Kame to apologize for anything, his inner school girl chimed in and Nakamaru tried to shoo her away.

"Shouldn't you be apologizing for...other...things."

Kame frowned at him and Nakamaru inwardly scoffed at the unfairness of everything. He was the only one who should be allowed to frown in this situation.

"What things? I didn't do anything."

"D-didn't do anything?!" Nakamaru sputtered. He couldn't believe Kame was denying everything just like that, his face clear of any guilt. The little actor. "You kept...groping m-my," he couldn't bring himself to say 'butt' without his face going up in flames. "You kept groping my back and then you tried to play footsie with me during the meeting!"

This time it was Kame who did the staring and Nakamaru felt sort of deranged under his wide eyes. Like an argyle clad loony.

"The director told me to spice things up a bit for the shoot. I was just playing around," Kame explained and Nakamaru faintly recalled the director telling them to make 'more contact! contact! let's give the fans something special'; Nakamaru was too preoccupied with his leather strappings at the time to pay proper attention.

Okay. So maybe he was overthinking during the photoshoot. That didn't explain the shameless attempt at footsie, though.

Kame looked at him oddly. "Footsie?"

"Your foot was...touching my leg," Nakamaru said awkwardly and tried not to acknowledge how pathetic he sounded, even to himself. His legs were just super sensitive. People had sensitive spots. For him it was the calfs.

"My feet were on the ground. I didn't touch your leg at all. Though I would have if I knew you'd react that way," Kame laughed. He was a good actor, that one. Nakamaru refused to be deceived.

"Nice try, Kame. Stop being a liar and just admit--"

Koki swung open the door.

"Yo! Kame, the manager's calling for you," Koki said and then grinned as he spotted Nakamaru. "How are your knees, Maru? At least now you have a reason not to pick up your pen."

Nakamaru stared in horror.

"That was you?!" he yelled, pointing an accusing finger at Koki. He couldn't believe he'd gotten so flustered over Koki. Koki. But then he had thought it was Kame, so that was alright. Sort of. He didn't bother examining why he had adamantaly stuck to his assumption that it was Kame. That way lead to embarrassing confessions that Nakamaru wasn't ready to face just yet.

"I was just checking if your legs were okay~" Koki sang, flashing him a victory sign, and than looked back over his shoulder as someone called to him in the corridor. "Gotta go! Kame, manager."

Nakamaru watched Kame give him a nod and then Koki disappeared before Nakamaru could smack him. Correction: Nakamaru loved his groupmates - but he hated Koki.

"And you were saying?" Kame asked, turning to look at him in amusement. "And all over a chair, too. Why didn't you just sit beside me?"

"Er...you know," Nakamaru shrugged helplessly and avoided Kame's gaze. "Isn't the manager calling you?"

Koki was useful for some things.

"You are such scaredy cat," Kame giggled for the millionth time and then, more seriously. "I don't bite, you know," -the combination of Kame and 'bite' brought back visions of his nightmare and Nakamaru nearly whimpered- "and I have something to give you before I go~"

"What?" he asked, lifting his head - and Kame was suddenly there, too fast and too close. There was a soft pressure against his lips, just a light, ticklish graze, the sweet smell of Kame's perfume and the sound of his heartbeat screeching to a halt - and then picking up faster than ever as Kame leaned back. It was over in only a second.

Don't overthink it, don't overthink it, Nakamaru told himself.

"Did you just...trip and fall on...my face?"

"Valentine Day kiss~" was all Kame said, words lilting into the tune of the song, and he was still close, close enough for Nakamaru to feel his breath against his face in small, tingling puffs. Nakamaru wondered why he hadn't shoved him back yet, why he hadn't ran away. He couldn't, though. Not when his heart wasn't working properly.

"It's White Day," he corrected lamely because his mind was blank and he couldn't think with Kame breathing on him like that.

"Well I can always give you a White Day kiss, if you want."

His shock must have shown on his face -Nakamaru wouldn't know; he felt numb- because Kame barked out a laugh and finally moved back.

"I should go now, but be sure to give that to your sister. It's something special~"

And with a wink and a glowing smile, Kame left the room.

Once the door clicked shut behind him, Nakamaru raised a hand slowly to his cheek. It was warm to the touch. Probably tomato red, too.

-

Nakamaru climbed into his car in a daze and headed to his parent's house. His sister would be home right now.

Ten minutes in and he was stuck in traffic. Nakamaru's life was hard like that. He glanced at himself in the rearview mirror and cringed. Tomato red was not a flattering colour on him. This was all Kame's fault.

Confirming that the traffic light was still red -Nakamaru was starting to hate the colour- he pulled out his cell phone and texted: I am not a girl.

He had just arrived at the house and was pulling into the driveway when his phone buzzed with a returning message. Kame, the display glowed at him. Nakamaru clicked on the little envelope taking up the screen.

No, you're not. You're our Nakamaru.

Nakamaru blushed as he counted the number of red hearts that followed. Fourteen in total. White Day. Kame was so lame.

Nakamaru saved the message.

Red wasn't all that bad, he supposed.

He glanced at the silver box sitting in the passenger seat, it's lopsided bow mocking him. Do it, his inner school girl told him and Nakamaru reversed the car out of the driveway and headed to his apartment instead. What his sister didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

She already had a boyfriend, anyway.

-

Sitting on his living room couch, Nakamaru stared at the white silk tie that lay innocently amidst silver wrappings. There was a note pinned to it.

Best Tieist, it read.

Nakamaru swallowed. He pulled out his phone, typed out a short message and hit send.

-

Happy White Day

Kame read the message and smiled.



-End-
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