Title: A Sigh Is Just A Sigh
Pairing: Keita/Ryuichi
Author: venenatus.venustas
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, unfortunately. But do own story. I do not presume to know anything of their private and/or business lives. This is all FICTION, meaning I MADE IT UP. I do not claim truth in anything you may read from this story. Except for their hairstyles.
Warnings: RANDOM OFC FOR THIS CHAPTER. AND YOU'RE NOT GOING TO LIKE HER. SOMEWHAT DARKER THEMES.
Inspired by: Ryuichi’s ringlets.
Summary: But a kiss is never just a kiss.

Continued from:
Prologue = Regret/Refusal
Part 1 = Plans/Denial
Part 2 = Confessions/Admissions


Part 3: Keita spends a night out in town, and Ryuichi doesn't take favourably to it.


Edited: Well my clock says 7:43am. Changed a sentence. Might change it again after my flight. Depends...




O.o o.O

Keita really couldn’t stand it anymore.

It was getting too much, the constant presence of William in their home, the uneasiness between him and Ryuichi, the impossibility of trying to substitute Ryuichi’s friendship using Ryohei, everything.

He needed a break.

He needed release.

“Where are you going?” Ryohei asked when Keita passed by him in the living room.

“Out.” Keita adjusted the collar of his shirt and picked his shoes out of the shoe cupboard.

“Club?” It was too late at night for it to be anything else.

“Yeah.” He slipped on his shoes.

“Shouldn’t you bring a coat?”

“I’ll take taxi there and back. I won’t be cold.”

“Okay, then. Be safe. You know what I mean. And don’t smoke too much or you’ll sound horrible tomorrow.”

Keita’s eyes darted in the direction of their bedrooms; William was staying the night, and he and Ryuichi were in Ryuichi’s room, watching a movie.

“Keita?”

Keita turned back to Ryohei. “What?”

“Remember to bring your keys.”

“Oh. Yeah, I almost forgot.” Keita lifted his keys from the hook. “Well. Good night. I’ll try to be quiet when I get back.”

“Be safe,” Ryohei said again. “And if you’re drunk, for heaven’s sake, call me, even if you do wake me up.”

“Will do,” Keita said, and turned to leave.

O.o o.O

The club was dark, smoky, throbbing with each beat of music as it pounded through the speakers. This particular one was among Keita’s favourites. Full of scantily clad girls – even at this time of year – that were completely willing to do any number of things for a hot guy with a killer smile. Sometimes they recognised him, and that made it even better. And easier.

He knew he wasn’t supposed to smoke, and he didn’t, usually, and even then only when he was drinking. He wove his way through the crowd from the bar, cigarette balanced between two fingers and grasping his drink by the top of the glass with his fingertips, to make his way to the tables surrounding the sunken dance floor.

Most of the tables were full, but a couple got up from one to dance, and Keita slid into their seat smoothly, leaning back, draping his arm across the seat, and crossing his legs. He took a deep drag from his cigarette and breathed out with a sigh.

The seat next to him was suddenly occupied, and there was someone curling up next to him under his arm. “Hey.”

Keita checked the girl out from the corners of his eyes. “Hey.”

“I’m Kyoko.”

“Keita.”

Kyoko leaned closer, peering closely at his face and also providing ample opportunity for Keita to look down her top. “You look familiar. Aren’t you in that group?”

Keita flicked the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. “One of them.”

“Sweet.” Kyoko grinned. “Could I steal a puff?”

Keita lifted the cigarette to her lips, which parted and then closed around the white end of the cigarette. The paper came away with her lip print, but Keita couldn’t even tell what the colour was in the dim lighting. He placed the cigarette between his lips, and when he licked them, he could taste the faint flavouring of her lip-gloss under the taste of tobacco. He washed it away with a sip of his drink.

“Feel like dancing?” Kyoko asked, and her voice suggested something else.

Keita eyed Kyoko more closely. She was dressed well, in a low-cut lacy tank top and pleated mini-skirt. His eyes travelled down the length of her legs, crossed in front of her, and she re-crossed them, watching him with a smile. Keita’s gaze travelled back to Kyoko’s face – not really pretty, but with enough makeup and dim lighting that she could be passable.

“Sure,” he said.

O.o o.O

They had been dancing for what felt like forever. Keita’s shirt was matted to his back and shoulders and Kyoko’s skin, smooth before, was now damp and sticky from sweat. Kyoko was a good dancer, which was usually a good indication that she would be good in the bedroom.

Keita made his decision.

He pulled Kyoko tighter to him, grinding his erection into the small of her back; she was about the same height as Ryuichi with her high-heeled boots, but much more slender, not at all firm and solid like Ryuichi was, soft and pliable and smelling of flowery fragrance and sweat, not at all like – dammit, stop comparing her to Ryuichi!

Kyoko leaned her head back against him, and Keita’s head was tipped forward enough to hear her breathy moans as his hand slipped under the front of her skirt. She circled one arm back around Keita’s neck, pulling him closer. “More. Let’s go. Your place?”

“Roommates,” Keita said.

“Then mine,” Kyoko said, and arched as Keita curled his index finger at the same time his lips curled into a small, cruel smile. “Or maybe the bathroom.”

“Let’s go,” Keita said.

O.o o.O

Keita let himself into their flat, closing the front door as gently as possible before locking it and toeing off his shoes. He turned, and almost screamed when he saw Ryuichi standing before him with a stone-faced expression.

“Welcome home.”

“Uh. I’m home,” Keita said awkwardly.

“Where were you last night?” It was morning now, and the yellow morning sun washed their flat in pale lemony shades of light.

“Why do you care?” And Keita brushed past Ryuichi into their flat.

Ryuichi caught him by his elbow, and Keita swirled around to face him again. “I care because you reek of stale cigarette smoke and alcohol,” Ryuichi said tersely. “We’re recording today, in case you forgot.”

Keita flung Ryuichi’s hand off. “I haven’t forgotten. And you’re one to talk.”

“What are you talking about?” Ryuichi’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

“I’m not the one that’s going in because of a sore throat from sucking off another guy,” Keita snarled, and Ryuichi took a step back.

“Well I’m not the fucking lead singer,” Ryuichi retorted. “People aren’t going to notice a rasp in my voice, but they’re sure as hell going to notice the difference in yours.”

“You know what? I don’t even want to talk about this anymore. As long as I can record, it’s none of your business.” Keita spun on his heel and had just taken a few steps when Ryuichi’s voice sounded again.

“Was she worth it?”

Keita paused.

“The girl you were with last night – I know you were, I can smell her all over you. Was she worth it?” Ryuichi pressed.

Keita almost looked back, but didn’t. “She was a good lay.” And he entered the bathroom, locking the door.

He felt dirty.

O.o o.O

Their day passed in terse silence, and they had a photo shoot at the end of it, as if it wasn’t bad enough. A photo shoot meant hours under hot lamps, heavy makeup caking their faces to make it smooth and glow healthily, people gawking at them (three boys that half the world was in love with) and hours trying to pretend there wasn’t something wrong between Keita and Ryuichi.

As soon as work was over, Ryuichi was speed-dialling William.

“Come over,” he murmured into the phone on the ride home, where Ryohei was sandwiched between a stiff Keita and a huddled Ryuichi. “I need you.”

“Ryuichi? What’s wrong?” William’s voice was filled with worry.

“Can’t talk now. Need to see you. Comfort me.”

“Are you with Keita and Ryohei?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. No Japanese?”

“No.”

“Okay. Are you home?”

“Car. Twenty minutes.”

“Darling, what’s wrong?”

“Just…bad day.” Ryuichi glanced across the seat to Keita, who was staring out the window. He was caught looking by Ryohei, who stared back with a bland expression.

“Need to go. Bye.” Ryuichi hung up, stuffing his phone into his pocket.

He stared out the window for the rest of the journey.

O.o o.O

William cuddled Ryuichi tightly, curled up together on Ryuichi’s bed. “Tell me what’s wrong,” William said softly, pressing gentle kisses to Ryuichi’s neck.

Ryuichi gave a small appreciative moan, a tiny smile appearing on his lips. “Just…fight with Keita.”

“About what?”

“Nothing, really. I don’t know.” Ryuichi hid his face in William’s shoulder. “His responsibilities as a lead singer. My responsibilities as a supporting member of the group. He was out smoking last night. Bastard.”

“Indeed,” William muttered, and Ryuichi lifted his head.

“What?”

William shook his head. “Nothing. Want me to…how do you say it…beat him up for you?”

Ryuichi laughed, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “No, that’s fine.” He hugged William harder. “Hold me closer,” he whispered, and tilted his head up so his lips almost touched William’s. “Comfort me.”

“As you wish,” William answered, but his eyes were shaded.

A fight with Keita, indeed.

O.o o.O

Onto Part 4 = Realisation/Restraint (WARNINGS: NC-17; continuing with the darker themes; ev0L!William (for all those that like him, I'm sorry!), BDSM (inc. Non-Consent, no Rape); my questionable imagination.)

A/N: Yay for LJ's recovery ^^ Well, I’m not too sure about the part with Ryuichi and William, also those earlier parts on Keita are, well – so comments would be wonderful, please! (also I’m a feedback h0r, but that’s pretty much a given for any writer XD)

O.o o.O