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Dekiai Temptation

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It’s rare to see him sleeping, and you’re a bit shocked to be honest. The part of you that’s growing less and less relevant is embarrassed and wants to retreat immediately, but a part of you is curious. It was your apartment, and you had left him for but a minute to prepare tea. Still, as he sprawled out on the couch, he looked peaceful. Like he wasn’t taking refuge in your apartment knowing his bandmates couldn’t touch him after he’d pranked them, again, with switching out their normal costumes with appropriately sized versions of his own: fedoras and vests. The crowd had loved it, of course, and Camus had to grit his teeth when accepting compliments about his new look from starry-eyed fans. Still, this was such a rare opportunity, as Reiji slept even less than you.

Starish was fond of reprimanding you, one of them leaving snacks in your bag while you were distracted with the scolding from the rest. Even Tomochika, with a rising star’s schedule, still texted you at 3am and had the audacity to be offended when you responded. But Reiji didn’t judge, just welcomed her presence as a treat. Stripped from the pretenses of the day and the persona that kept his bandmates in line, the Reiji she knew at 2am was an entirely new beast. Still, the sweetness was there, but the vulnerability was the kicker: there were shadows dancing behind his eyes, but some things were better left unasked. But he didn’t scold you, and you certainly didn’t scold him, just left a ever-shortening distance in between you for his presence to eventually fill.

Still, you’d fallen asleep before him at those times too. You have vague memories of being carried, and a vague sense of concern that he’d never seemed to need a key to access your place of residence. He might honestly be a magician, for all that Tokiya and Otoya practice, they cannot match his skill in sleight of hand. She’s certain they’ve never heard about that particular trick though: if they had, a member of Starish would be attached to her at every hour instead of just every waking one, and she did appreciate her freedom. And it’s not like he used his ability to prank her, just to make sure she got home safely on late nights. There was something she was curious about though. It seemed like every time this happened, he would brush your stray hair out of your face. And certainly, Reiji would appreciate it if she did so too. It wouldn’t hurt him, right? If anything, she could get this curiosity out of the way so she could stop thinking about it. His hair looked so soft, and his skin softer. He’s an idol, you berated yourself, of course he’d take good care of himself. But something about him makes you want to touch. You lean over, listening to his steady breaths, and stretch out your hand, just barely grazing his temples.

And he grabs.

You’ve never felt so much before like a mouse caught in a trap. The cat blinks and smiles gently at you, a smile you’d almost be convinced by- were convinced by in the past. You’re thoroughly in his clutch, and you have no idea how you’re going to explain your way out of this one.

You should have recognized a method actor when you saw one. Only the smartest person in the room would be this willing to play the fool.

“You’re mine,” he states, the lightness in his tone not matching the stare that has you pinned. And really, what was there besides dominant words and that sweet, sweet tone of voice? You found yourself nodding before your brain could tell your neck to comply, and he cards his hand through your hair, tipping your chin up so you meet his eyes. “Good girl.” It would be at this point he drew back. It always was that way before: Reiji’s sweetness luring into a false sense of security before reminding you, very thoroughly, that he was your upperclassman in both age and experience, before returning to his sweet self like nothing happened.

But he wasn’t stopping. The intensity in his eyes makes yours flutter shut, and there’s nothing in your mind besides wonder laced with an edge of fear and the constant repetition of Reiji, Reiji, Reiji. Curiosity trumps self preservation and you open your eyes: you’re one heartbeat away from a kiss with one of Japan’s most loved idols, and your heart can’t decide if it wants to freeze to a stop or shudder so hard it beats out of your chest. A part of your brain that can’t scream loud enough to be heard over the intensity of Reiji’s gaze tells you this is a terrible idea, and you’re one step away from danger. Despite the obvious no love rule, he’s a man, an older one at that, and any chance of escape was quashed by the knowledge he had you pinned against the wall, caging you in with his forearms.

“What’s the matter, my girl? You’re awfully quiet.”

“We’re kind of close, Kotobuki-senpai.” The thoughtless comment slips out before you can quash it, and the idiocy of it makes you squirm. But he smiles like you’ve said something charming, even forgoing his usual distress at you addressing him formally. He’s on the hunt, and you distinctly feel like prey.

“I seem to recall you hugging me pretty tight after my last stage. We’re not even touching right now.” And true to his word, he hasn’t laid a finger on you since he brushed through your hair earlier, but his exhales as he whispers in your ear feels much more intimate than any touch you’ve ever shared before.

His last stage was different, to say the least. Quartet Night had put aside their usual coolness to produce something passionate, and my, had their efforts paid off. Ranmaru and Camus had received praise for pursuing new voices in their respective tracks, and Ai’s sweet ballad had even made Ryuya shed an albeit manly tear. But she was proud of her work in composing Reiji’s song, an upbeat song that allowed his full charm to shine through without being dampened by his cooler colleagues. And charm he had on that stage, shaking his hips and winking at the crowd. The intimacy of the stage, just him and his charm ramped up to the thousands, as he’d insisted on not needing any backup dancers or effects.

“It’s different,” you say, and his smirk makes you realize at this precise moment you’ve fallen into the trap. “

How so?” He purrs.

“Haru-chan!” You’d been happy to hear the familiar voice of your friend; Reiji had been suspiciously absent from any gatherings with you in it, supposedly due to not wanting to spoil the lyrics until he’d finished with them. That’s according to Otoya’s report anyway, and she hoped the composition hadn’t disappointed him in any way. It certainly felt like Reiji to her, and she could imagine his warmth riding the rhythm and filling the spaces with his lively fillers and maracas. But maybe she’d been presumed too much about him? “Care to go for a ride?” Truly, she does have a schedule today, but if the man with an overfilled schedule had time, she certainly did.

“Where shall we go?” Just as he expected. He’d heard complaints from Otonyan that her schedule had been packed as of late, composing songs for the entirety of her nights and off at Shiny’s whim during the day. But she’d made time for him.

“Wherever the wind takes us!” Not an answer to her question, but she hardly noticed it. She let his wink roll off of her as the shallow wave it was, misunderstanding his pout. Of course, he was just teasing her, but she couldn’t help but feel he was disappointed in something…. Of course. She knew it, her latest composition wasn’t to his liking.

“It still needs work, doesn’t it?”

To him, it’s curious, the sheer exhaustion in keeping up his charm around her. He is nothing but an experienced idol, and as her senior it’s a bit embarrassing to expend this amount of energy giving her the run around. But he understands why this country girl was sought after by best in class, even before she’d proven herself with a single note. Her honesty brings out the best in others, and if he’d been a religious man, he’d believe she was an angel from above. Endlessly patient, understanding, and with a dedication to the craft that only emphasized the eternal youth she radiated. But, ah, absolutely oblivious. By choice or by design, she was the epitome of unrequited love. So his usual charms: his winks, lines, and blown kisses, were useless, something she just considered part of being friends with an idol known for this kind of seduction of the heart. But the parts of him he’d done best to keep hidden were the times he saw her heart soften, in their late night studies, in his weakness to keep his team together, and the ways he ached for a past friendship, in the yearly musings on a certain cliff on a certain night and every moment his past choked him of breath and tears. But he says none of that.

“I was able to capture my true feelings.” He doesn’t miss the way his underclassmen glare. He’d forgotten they’d been there, honestly, he’d been so caught up in the moment. Nevertheless, running around his underclassmen is nothing short of prime entertainment, and even the self proclaimed ladies man can’t keep up with him. “I wanted to show them to you.”

How so, he asks. You wonder if you’re a joke to him, if he views this as some elaborate prank. You’ve seen his most vulnerable points though, and he knows this. It’s almost as if he’s taunting you into making a move, as if your body frail from illness could break the grip of an idol who worked out everyday and performs acrobatics with ease.


You could crumble him. Something that you faintly recognize as your blossoming sexuality is tired of his games, and you know it’s going to be you who moves this forward or shatters his heart. This game of cat and mouse would come to an end and selfish, selfish Reiji put his heart into your hands in the most cowardly way possible.

“Well, because this time,” for once, you feel more like the predator than the prey, “you’re going to kiss me.” You only grow stronger as you feel his grip weaken: it was long overdue to turn the tables, and you’re drunk on the power of femininity. He catches himself before you can switch your positions, and he’s recovered fully.

“You should be careful what you ask for cutie. You might just get it.” And then he’s advancing, and he’s not stopping now, you’re sure of it this time.

Until a millimeter from your lips, he pauses, and your hands find the ends of his hair and tug his lips to yours. It whets your appetite and now you’re ravenous for more. Your mind is filled with the softness of his lips and the sharpness of his abs that tease you through his shirt and the delicious sound he makes when you tug on his hair. Reiji, for his part, had taken the invitation to explore with only a moment’s worth of hesitation. The heel of his palm grinds into your spine, and there’s no space left between the two of you besides the increasingly frustrating brush of fabric. He pulls away again, and you’re just about going to sob from the lack of contact before his hand is vice like around your wrist.

“Come with me, naughty girl.” The tone behind his order promises pleasure in immeasurable amounts, and lust and love combine to form a greed that commands your legs to move. “Let’s cross the line to adulthood together.”