Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
mousapelli

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Fic, 30 Kisses, (20) Girl is Mine

I am struggling so hard right now it's not even funny ( _ _).oOZZZZZZZZZ also Firefox is working my last mother-fucking nerve in slowness lately.

Title: Girl is Mine [Kitayama/Tamamori]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for creepy photographer
Summary: Kitayama and Fujigaya have to protect what's theirs.
AN: 30 Kisses, day 20. Based on the photoshoot in my icon from when Tama first became a frontman, and I can't remember who I was talking to about this idea a million years ago, but I finally wrote it down.


Girl is Mine

Tamamori is entirely uncomfortable with the attention that the photographer is giving him. Admittedly this photographer is the one that makes even Fujigaya grumble, "Shit, that guy," when they see him. He never does anything over the line, nothing they can complain to management about, but it's something about the way he looks them over, tells them what to do, praises them when they follow directions, something just a little off. Kityama wouldn't be surprised if the guy prints out some of the shots and takes them home to jack off over or something.

It makes Kitayama want to shower immediately afterwards each time, but it isn't like the guy can touch them or anything, Fujigaya's fierce glares making it clear what'll happen if the guy so much as puts a toe out of line. But the two of them are used to it, have grown thick skins from being frontmen so long and also know that the more compliant they are, the faster they can get out of there. Let the creep look all he wants, since that's all he can do.

Tamamori, on the other hand, just gets more flustered every time the man addresses him, tips of his ears charmingly pink and sweater oversized and spilling over his shoulders and wrists, making him look even younger, vulnerable. It's a pretty appealing picture, Kitayama has to admit, and he might be tempted to do a few creepy things himself if he were the one holding a camera and giving the orders.

"Do something," Fujigaya finally asks in exasperation. "God, we're never going to get out of here, he looks like the DVD cover of a fucking shotacon AV." Fujigaya pauses a beat. "Don't you dare ask how I know what those look like."

"Oh, I don't have to ask," Kitayama retorts, then snickers when Fujigaya's glare turns icy and he repeats that Kitayama needs to just get his fat ass in gear. "Call my phone."

"What?" Fujigaya eyes him.

"Just do it," Kitayama says, sticking his hand in his pocket to make sure his sound is on. Fujigaya rolls his eyes but does it, and a second later Kitayama's phone starts shrilling the theme song for the anime he and Miyata have been watching recently. Kitayama pulls the phone out to answer it with a loud, "Ah, Manager-san," and then Fujigaya's eyes flash in understanding.

"Sorry to interrupt," Kitayama calls over, "but may we take a break a minute? Alone," Kitayama says firmly, "our manager has some news for the three of us."

Tamamori's relief is obvious as he scuttles over to the two of them, and the photographer sighs that he supposes, if they must. His eyes track Tamamori keenly the whole way across the room.

There's no real privacy to be had, but they use the rack of clothing as a makeshift screen in one of the corners, Kitayama keeping a casual eye on the staff to make sure nobody is close enough to listen in.

"You've got to stop that!" Fujigaya tells Tamamori, snappish, expression only getting sharper when Tamamori blinks up at him with kohl-smudged eyes and asks what he's doing wrong.

"You're not helping," Kitayama says, and Fujigaya folds his arms with a snort. "Tama-chan, it's just that the more you look like a cute little victim, the more that guy likes it, you know?"

"He's creepy," Tamamori says, mouth pinching in distaste.

"He is that," Kitayama agrees, "but he can't do anything but look, so don't worry about him even a little bit. He's not worth even thinking about."

Tamamori chews his lower lip a little and damn, Tamamori is downright delectable when he's nervous, so it's hardly a wonder if the sleazy photographer has been undressing him with his eyes all afternoon.. "I guess it's true he can't touch us…but…"

"Let him try," Fujigaya growls. "He doesn't have the balls to get within a meter of us, and if he did, I'd make him eat that fancy camera with pleasure!"

"You aren't alone," Kitayama points out. "We'd never leave you alone with that guy, so just concentrate on us."

"You wouldn't?" Tamamori asks, glancing nervously between them. "You won't?"

"Have a little faith in your senpai, can't you?" Kitayama asks, nodding firmly. "You're ours, so we'll take care of you for sure."

Tamamori nods, some of the tension leaking out of his shoulders, and then he squares them. "Okay, let's just get it over with then."

True to their word, Kitayama and Fujigaya flank Tamamori for the rest of the shoot, always within touching distance and generally taking advantage of that fact. Hands off, Fujigaya's grip on Tamamori's shoulder says, casually possessive and glaring haughtily over his shoulder; we won't be sharing, adds Kitayama's hand when it strays down to brush Tamamori's ass. It's a bit much, and Tamamori startles a little next to him, but Kitayama wants to make absolutely sure this spineless creep gets the message.

Finally they're dismissed and escape to change as quickly as they can without looking like they're rushing. Kitayama's just tugging his jeans back on when a shirtless Tamamori sidles up.

"Okay there, Tama-chan?" Kitayama feels vaguely guilty about enjoying the warm curve of Tamamori's ass against his palm quite so much. "Sorry if I went a little far without warning you, before."

"Yeah, I'm fine." Tamamori nods. "And don't worry about it. It's okay if it's you two."

He leans in without warning to press his lips against Kitayama's, the thank you kiss a surprise but not at all unwelcome. Kitayama makes a soft, encouraging noise and lifts a hand to drag fingers down Tamamori's spine, relishing the way Tamamori shivers against him. When Tamamori pulls back, he doesn't go far, just far enough to blink at Kitayama with deep brown eyes.

"I don't mind being yours," he murmurs, smile shy, and damn if Kitayama isn't thinking himself about taking advantage of that fact, preferably at home where there's nobody else to see exactly how thoroughly he does take advantage of Tamamori.

"Fuck both of you," Fujigaya hisses. "This is exactly why we keep getting that guy, dammit!"

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