It was a bad night for Fukazawa Tatsuya. His clients are forcing him to drink more than he would have liked to, and there was no one else left to help him take over. Everyone had their hands full of their own clients. Fukuzawa feels the edging tipsy and the number one rule of Hosts is you can’t get tipsy.
A tall figure appeared beside him, knelt on one knee, and the ladies shrieked excitedly. Fukazawa turned to see who it was and blinked in confusion when he realised it was the tall bouncer – Iwamoto Hikaru was his name, Fukazawa thinks – who was kneeling beside him. His eyes crinkled as his lips curled up to a smile.
“Allow me to drink this round, shall we?” he implored and swiftly took the drink out of Fukazawa’s hand and gulped it down in one shot.
The ladies clapped and one of them swiftly poured another glass for him.
“Drink up, gorgeous!”
Fukuzawa gaped as the bouncer took the drink down in another gulp. He was about to take the next round when Fukazawa stopped his hand, not caring the excited gasps from the ladies, and shook his head. Iwamoto grinned, and took the glass with his other hand and finished it.
“Iwamoto-san, you have to be at the door?” Fukuzawa hissed at him, eyes wide with panic as he graciously allowed the ladies to order more wine.
“I’m on Shibutani-sama’s order to make sure you’re alright, Fukazawa-san.” Iwamoto whispered back and flashed the ladies a smile.
“Say ladies, would you mind ordering some food and lesser of the wine? I’m hungry!” Iwamoto whined softly, eyes softening to a pout if eyes can pout.
The ladies blinked and immediately cancelled their additional drinks and replaced them with food. They showed Iwamoto the menu and allowed him to choose what he wanted. Iwamoto smiled at them and shyly pointed to the top three most expensive food – roast beef, beef sticks and the meat pizza.
Fukazawa sucked in a breath waiting for the ladies to yell about absurdity when they nodded and turned to their waiter – Matsuda Genta – and ordered what Iwamoto wanted. Fukazawa blinked and Iwamoto quietly told Matsuda to bring over two glasses of iced water as well. Iwamoto had perched himself on the corner of his chair and his eyes crinkling as he engaged the ladies in light conversation.
Fukazawa found himself staring at the other’s arm veins as he waved around animatedly. The drinks came and Fukazawa welcomed the iced water with thankfulness. The bartenders masked his water as vodka on rocks and Fukazawa was suddenly very grateful for the bouncer’s intervention.
Iwamoto turned to smile at him gently before sending a look over to Matsuda who immediately came over. He gestured towards Fukazawa and politely informed them that Fukazawa had to be elsewhere and the ladies waved him goodbye politely. They did not make noise and they just allowed Iwamoto to continue the service.
“What even…?!” Fukazawa turned to stare at the other hosts sitting in the resting room.
“It seems that Shibutani-sama realised that we are overbooked for the night so he made some arrangements to help us out.” Miyadate Ryota replied, stretching out on the sofa as Watanabe Shota – the club’s singer and Miyadate’s boyfriend – rubbed his sore shoulders gently.
“There are even Hosts from another club Shibutani-sama knows who came to help out.” Sakuma Daisuke grinned, as Abe took a long drink from his bottle.
“Can you believe the internationally famous Yamashita and Kamenashi are here to help us out?” Abe gushed, stealing a look at Miyadate who grunted in response. “The Kansai top Okura is here too with Yasuda-nii.”
Fukazawa rubbed his tired eyes slowly. “What even is Shibutani Subaru?”
The door opened and Shibutani walked in. “Your god and your Savior, Fukka-kun.”
“Shibuyan, don’t bully the children!” A bright eyed man stepped in, lips glossy with lipgloss and his eyeliner drawn to perfection, and waved at Abe.
“Yasu, get your ass out there.” Shibutani growled and the shorter man pouted but obliged and left the room.
“Rest for another 20 minutes and I want all of you to be out on the grounds.” Shibutani said, dropping a few bottles of supplements. “Take some of these if you want, it helps with the hangover for tomorrow.”
There was a loud scream and a glassware crashed on the floor. Not knowing what was going on outside, Fukazawa listened intently. Amongst the loud noises, one voice stood out.
He was ordering the bouncers to seal the exit. Fukazawa frowned, he had a slight slur in his speech, something that shouldn’t happen. He frowned and Shibutani cursed under his breath, stalking to the chest of drawers.
He pulled a gun out just as Hikaru tugged a hurt Shimekake into the room. Shibutani met eyes with him and quickly left the room. Hikaru pulled Shimekake over to the sofa and quickly found the first kit to bandage his wounds.
“I hope this serves as a lesson to not jump between a fight of knifes, REGARDLESS IF I’M ALREADY AT THE LOSING END. Shime, you should know better.” Iwamoto nagged and tightened the bandage.
Shimekake winced but kept his mouth shut, and only allowed himself to look at Iwamoto pitifully. Iwamoto rolled his eyes and dropped a clean towel over his face. He packed the first aid kit away.
“Rest.” He ordered and grabbed the dagger Shimekake pressed into his hand.
“I’ll make sure I return Genta, Shizu and Noel to you, safe and sound. That I can promise you.” Iwamoto promised and he dashed out.
There was a painful scream and a loud gunshot. Fukazawa jumped and was about to run back to the club when the other staffs limped in.
Shibutani narrowed his eyes at the tall bouncer and hurried him into the room, locking the doors before he rounded on the boy. He asked in a hurried hushed whisper and Iwamoto nodded remorsefully.
“How many did you notice?” Shibutani asked, eyes worried.
“At least five. I’m sorry Shibutani-sama.” Iwamoto sighed, stumbling on his feet. “I should have been at the door, please don’t blame Shizu for this. He and Hokuto… they aren’t trained for this.”
Shibutani nodded, pushing him towards the Hosts and left the room quickly. Iwamoto staggered his way to the sofa, and Abe quickly let him sink into the seat. The hosts looked at the tall bouncer who shakily took a syringe and tried to administer medicine to himself.
Fukazawa took the syringe from his hand, causing the bouncer to look up to him behind the bangs that fell forward, and settled beside the bouncer. Without a warning, Fukazawa jabbed the syringe in. Iwamoto winced but held in the noise until the medicine was fully administrated.
“Thank you, Fukazawa-san.” Iwamoto muttered, eyes fluttering shut as the door opened and Matsumura Hokuto dashed in, staring at Iwamoto worriedly.
“Hokuto, is the situation fine outside already. If it isn’t, get your ass out.” Iwamoto asked, throwing a hand over his eyes.
Matsumura walked over and smacked Iwamoto on the head, earning a loud shriek from Iwamoto. Matsumura gave him one sharp look before he left the room and back to the grounds. Fukazawa looked at him sharply before Miyadate asked the question everyone wants to know.
“What’s going on?”
Iwamoto cracked an eye open and sighed. “Yakuza.”
The Hosts sat up higher and turned their attention to him. The other bouncers, bartenders and waiters came flooding in as Iwamoto explained the situation. The police have arrived, thought Iwamoto in relieve, and the Onii-sans can handle the situation outside.
“Working in this industry, Yakuza appearing in the club is no big deal for anyone. I’m pretty sure you have some clients who are from the shadows. However, if the Yakuza groups are bringing in drugs – oh that is a big issue.”
Watanabe held on to Miyadate’s hand while Abe and Sakuma cuddled closer. Fukazawa turned to glare at Iwamoto and look questioningly at the syringe in his hand. Iwamoto nodded.
“I was drugged just now, but luckily for me, I’m on alert for these things since I shifted over to your table just now. One of the ladies is the mistress of the local Yakuza boss. I was careless to drink a glass I did not order; the alcohol is making my head fuzzy. Usually, I stop them at the door to make sure all of you are well and drug-free. But today I was in the club trying to be a Host. No fault of my fellow bouncers, they are well trained – my fault obviously – in other areas not related to drugs.”
Iwamoto took a deep breath and opened a bottle of water, drowning it quickly. Fukazawa looked at him worriedly. Iwamoto smiled at him lazily and addressed the team.
“Did Subaru mentioned how long it will take for the scene to clear?”
Now everyone was staring at him in shock as he addressed the master of the club casually. The door cracked open and the man stepped in. Shibutani rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair, making Iwamoto purr at the touch.
He cracked an eye open and grinned up at Shibutani. “Is everything fine now? Yasu-kun?”
Shibutani pinched his nose bridge tiredly, nodding. “Take the night off, Hikaru. Or Takki will come for my head, as well as…”
“Subaru.” Iwamoto stopped Shibutani from continuing. “I’ll do that.”
“Hikaru.” Shibutani looked at him worriedly, hand reaching past his fringe to feel his forehead. “I knew it, you’re burning up. You need to see Yoko immediately, who knows what drugs that bitch fed you.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t die so easily.” Iwamoto humorously replied, earning himself a whack on the head.
“Hey Hikaru!” Kamenashi Kazuya popped his head in. “I think it was a sex drug, my man. Do you need anyone now?”
Iwamoto moaned in despair. “Where did they ever get their hands on sex drugs oh god. Who else took it? Or was it a variety?”
Kamenashi shook his head. “A variety but apparently the bitch who drugged you is probably the only one who got the sex one, means she is down for actual business.”
“And her target was originally that cutie over there.” Yasuda Shota said casually, winking at Fukazawa. “Though, Hika-chan you spoilt her plans so she decided to settle for you.”
“Good, because Fukazawa-san has not experienced being drugged before so it’s for the best.” Iwamoto sighed, and Yasuda shook his head at him.
“I’ll take you home, Hikaru.” Yasuda offered, eyes shone with glint.
“And risk Subaru-kun rage on me afterwards, nah. I’ll get home safe, Okura-kun has already arrange my ride home hasn’t he?” Iwamoto smirked, and Shibutani narrowed his eyes on the tall man.
“I can send Iwamoto home. If Shibutani-sama allows me to.” Fukazawa declared, stunning himself – and everyone, except Yasuda – at the offer he just made.
“Excellent. The club is closed anyway, Shin-chan came to make sure no other Yakuza groups are lurking around, everyone gets to go home now anyway.” Yasuda clapped his hands and dropped a pair of keys on Fukazawa’s lap.
“Red for the cars, Blue for the doors.” Yasuda chirped.
Fukazawa stared at the keys and sheepishly replied that he can’t drive, earning a loud laugh from Shibutani. A pale man appeared by the door and cleared his throat. The room turned in unison to him.
“Lucky I’m here then, hand me the keys I’ll drive both of you home to Hikaru’s place.”
And so it was settled, and by the time Fukazawa gains his brains back, they were on a black tinted car and heading towards Iwamoto’s house. Yokoyama Yu was a doctor for the Yakuza group Takizawa was in and they are friends since they were teenagers. The sleeping man by the passenger seat was the Deputy Police head of their city, Murakami Shingo.
Fukazawa sat upright in his seat, rather nervous as it was quite obvious that Yokoyama was the doctor for the underground world. Yokoyama must have noticed his discomfort and quietly played some music from the radio.
There was a soft grunt from Fukazawa’s left as Iwamoto shifted closer to him.
Yokoyama threw him a curious glance as Fukazawa sheepishly avoided his eyes. Yokoyama laughed and turned his car into a car park and turned his engine off. Fukazawa looked out to his dark surroundings and contemplated if he should run for it if Yokoyama decides to murder him right here.
“Say, are you hungry kid?” Yokoyama asked, opening his wallet.
Fukazawa jumped and blinked at Yokoyama confusedly. The older man laughed and waved his wallet, gesturing to the convenience shop they are at. Fukazawa shook his head quickly and Yokoyama got out of the car swiftly.
“I’ll be right back.” He said before ducking out of the car and entered the convenience store.
Fukazawa leaned back to the car seat and turned to his side to find Iwamoto staring at him silently. He jumped and was about to shriek when he remembered the sleeping senior in front and swallowed his scream. Iwamoto blinked and smiled.
“Hey. Are you feeling quite alright?” Iwamoto muttered, eyes shining with mirth.
“I’m fine.” Fukazawa replied, lying easily through his teeth. Only idiots will be fine after such an eventful night.
“Have anyone told you that you’re a terrible liar, Fukka-chan?” Iwamoto teased.
“Hey, who said you can call me Fukka-chan!!” Fukazawa shrieked and the sleeping policeman grunted in his sleep and tossed to his side.
Fukazawa clasped a hand over his mouth and hissed. “Iwamoto-san!”
Iwamoto giggled – yes he giggled – and stretched a hand out to Fukazawa’s. He entwined their hands together and smiled. Fukazawa stared at him and held back his need to whack the tall man on the head.
“Don’t worry, Yoko-nii is one of the kindest and sweetest person ever. I’ll be in good health once he has a look.” Iwamoto muttered, eyes fluttering close.
Fukazawa looked down on their entwined hands. The car door opened and he jumped, ready to fight when he realised it was Yokoyama. The older man laughed and passed a plastic bag over.
“There is medicine and some food in it. Just throw them in the microwave, Hikaru has one at home. And a working kitchen too, but Hikaru hardly cooks.” Yokoyama explained.
He started the engine as Iwamoto whimpered softly, curling up closer to Fukazawa as his head drooped and rested on Fukazawa’s shoulders. Fukazawa stilled his movements and cranked his head to stare at the crown of Iwamoto’s head. After a few moments, he closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.
The next time Fukazawa opened his eyes, he was laying on his side. He blinked as Iwamoto curled up closer to him. He blinked again, twice.
“What in the world?” he muttered and Iwamoto groaned.
Iwamoto’s eyes fluttered open and he look at Fukazawa sleepily. He turned around and felt for his cloak, making a discontented noise when he realised it was only 4am. He turned back and realised Fukazawa had gotten out of bed.
“Come back, it’s cold.” Iwamoto whined, “I’m not going to do anything to you. This is a bachelor pad, there is only one bed!”
Fukazawa stared at him. Iwamoto sighed, sitting up and letting the blanket pool around his waist. Fukazawa shrieked and hide his face.
“You sleep naked?” Fukazawa squeaked.
“I don’t, I just prefer to sleep topless. And the drug I consumed makes my body heat up so it was getting really warm.” Iwamoto explained earnestly.
“But you… same bed… I… what?” Fukazawa mumbled, shaking his head.
“I’m sorry about that really. I’ll go out to sleep on the couch, you can take the bed – it’s more comfortable here. Let me just get an extra blanket and pillow, wait…” Iwamoto apologised and quickly got of the bed – wearing pants as he had said he had – and walked over to the cupboard to grab the extra blankets and pillow.
He opened the bedroom door and slipped out, leaving Fukazawa all alone in his bedroom. Fukazawa blinked. Today was far too weird for his mind to comprehend anything anymore.
He needed answers. The only one who can give him answers is the man outside. So Fukazawa slipped out of the room too, startling Iwamoto.
“Do you want a drink – hot milk or hot chocolate. I think I have some juice left over from the party the other day.” Iwamoto muttered, getting up from his spot on the sofa, walking to the mini kitchenette.
“Iwamoto-san…” Fukazawa opened his mouth, throat dry.
“You know, Fukazawa-san… ‘Hikaru’ will do fine.” Iwamoto grinned, holding out a glass of water. “Drink some water first then. You have questions and I have answers.”
Fukazawa eyed the glass suspiciously and Iwamoto blinked. He retracted his hand like he was burnt and gestured to the kitchen. Fukazawa blushed, and held his hand out for the drink.
“I trust that you won’t drug me, Hikaru.” Fukazawa said, taking the drink out of Iwamoto’s hand.
Iwamoto smiled, eyes crinkled as he walked back to the sofa. He arranged the blankets and gestured for Fukazawa to make himself comfortable. Fukazawa sat by the floor, and asked.
“What happened? Did I black out or what?”
Iwamoto laughed and cuddled a pillow before he replies. “You slept like a log, Yoko-nii couldn’t wake you up so he woke me up and I carried you up. He helped to open the door and set things around. He checked me up too, I’m fine now.”
“But it was a sex drug, how did you… I… A girl?” Fukazawa mumbled, looking away as his ears turned red.
“I managed to handle my needs in the bathroom. I didn’t do anything to you, so don’t you worry.” Iwamoto smiled shyly.
Fukazawa blushed and hide his face in his hands. “This is so strange. What are you anyway? How could you call Shibutani-sama as Subaru?”
Iwamoto laughed. “Not going to sleep now, are you?”
Fukazawa blushed. “I’ll go to sleep now, good night Hikaru.”
Fukazawa got up and was about to leave when Iwamoto reached out, grabbing his wrist tightly. Fukazawa turned back and stared at Iwamoto. The taller man has a shy smile on his face.
“Stay here, please.”
Fukazawa stilled his movements and looked back at Iwamoto’s expectant eyes. He turned and shifted to the sofa, squeezing Iwamoto to the side. Crawling into the blanket, he sat on the sofa cross legged and closed his eyes.
“Good night, Fukka.” Iwamoto whispered. “Thank you.”
Life has been quite well if you count the amount of times Fukazawa finds himself in a daze as he watched the tall bouncer train up the other bouncers on drugs. His deep voice was an alluring yet soothing lullaby and Fukazawa finds his eyelid drooping a little. The side of the couch sank in and Sakuma peered up at him.
“Who are you looking at?” He asked turning into the generic direction.
Sakuma’s mouth formed an “o” and turned back to Fukazawa. He sighed and leaned his head on the older male’s shoulder and quietly watched Iwamoto with Fukazawa. Iwamoto patted Shimekake gently on the head and joked around with the other bouncers before releasing them for their break.
Yoshizawa poked Iwamoto’s wounds gently, asking if they still hurt. The built male shook his head and waved Yoshizawa off with a smile. The shorter male smiled up and left Iwamoto alone.
Fukazawa got off the couch, walking towards Iwamoto, his hands curled around a first aid box.
“You’re bleeding. Again.” Fukazawa said, causing Iwamoto to jump slightly.
“Fukka.” Iwamoto replied and allowed Fukazawa to pull him back to the couch.
Fukazawa unbuttoned his shirt at ease, pulling the shirt off the shoulder to reveal a red patch on his abdomen. He winced and took a clean tongs and peeled the soaked bandage off the skin. The wound has reopened slightly and Iwamoto winced when Fukazawa pressd a ball of antiseptic to his wound.
“If you were careful and stop moving around so much, this wouldn’t happen.” Fukazawa chided and Iwamoto pouted at him.
“But Fukka, it hurts!”
Fukazawa looked at him and pressed on his wound harder. Iwamoto wailed, hitting Fukazawa’s forearm, yelling that he give up. Fukazawa grinned triumphly and gently swabbed the cotton across the wound.
Sakuma widened his eyes and the other hosts came out from their dressing room from the scream. They stared as Fukazawa was half straddling the tall bouncer as he tried to seal the open wound like Yokoyama had taught him. One thing he realised was that Iwamoto loved to move way too much and his wounds takes a long time to heal.
Iwamoto had a hand on his waist, rubbing gentle circles as he tried to not think of the pain. Fukazawa tried not to get distracted by the action and finished his bandage. They met eyes and Fukazawa sighed.
“You remind me of Ace. He always patch me up whenever we get involved in a brawl.” Iwamoto muttered, letting his eyes close for a while.
“But he is never as gentle as you are.”
Fukazawa blushed. If it wasn’t that they are working in the same area, he would have never agreed to help keep his wound in check. Iwamoto had threw himself in front of a knife when someone raided their gang house the other day.
“I still don’t understand why did Yokoyama-kun drop you off at my place.” Fukazawa pouted and tightened the wound tightly.
Iwamoto winced and sat up, holding on to Fukazawa’s waist as he leaned closer. He brushed his lips on Fukazawa’s jawline and muttered a soft ‘thank you’ before he shifted Fukazawa off him. He threw his shirt back on and walked to Shibutani’s office, closing the door behind him.
Miyadate looked at Fukazawa and whistled. “That made sense.”
Fukazawa threw a pillow at their direction and cover his face. He has an Iwamoto problem and it wasn’t going to be resolved easily. Sakuma pokes his red cheeks gently as Abe asked if they are together.
“We are… not… it’s complicated.” Fukazawa muttered, packing his first aid box away.
He stood up and duck into their dressing room to get ready for the night.
“So they are fucking?” Watanabe asked and Miyadate hushed him quickly.
It has been almost a month since the club drugs fiasco, two weeks since the other hosts saw Fukazawa changing Iwamoto’s bandages.
It is the first day Shibutani decides that Iwamoto is to be transferred to the Host section of the club.
Fukazawa clicked his tongue in annoyance (Sakuma quietly muttered “scary!”) as Iwamoto appeared before them, hair slicked with gel and a brand new suit.
“Please take care of me, I’ll still be learning the ropes from all of you.” Iwamoto bowed deeply and everyone catcalled him.
“Fukka, you’ll be his mentor. Hikaru will be off mentoring in three days’ time - just in perfect timing for the major client we will be receiving.” Shibutani announced, patting Fukazawa on the back.
“Why me? If it is an important client, shouldn’t Date-san be the one to train him?” Fukazawa protested.
“Because I said so. Just let him tag along with you these three nights. Then he will be transferred to another club - Yasu’s club is a little shorthanded.” Shibutani replied as Iwamoto nodded along.
The crowd went silent. They are teaching Iwamoto how to be a host just for another Club to have him? Fukazawa snarled, glaring sharply at Shibutani, and the older male just shrugged his shoulders.
“So he is leaving this club, for another?” Miyadate asked.
Shibutani shrugged again but Iwamoto nodded silently beside the small man. Fukazawa stepped towards Iwamoto, eyes glinted with unspoken feelings. Iwamoto lowered his head, flinching when Fukazawa leant right into his space.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Fukazawa snarled, hands curling around the suit jacket Iwamoto is wearing. “What the fuck, Iwamoto?”
There was a stunned silence as no one had expected Fukazawa to react that badly. Iwamoto looked away and Fukazawa forced him to look at him. Their eyes met and Iwamoto’s resolve crumbled a little while Fukazawa searched for an answer he has no questions for.
Iwamoto kept his silence, only reaching up to pull Fukazawa’s hands away. He bowed to the audience and walked back to the bar with a loud ‘Hikaru!’ from Shibutani. The club master glared at Fukazawa and appointed Miyadate to guide Hikaru instead.
Shibutani hurried after the younger man and watched him pour a glass of whiskey on rocks, drowning it down in one gulp. Shibutani frowned, removing his hat from his head, and lowering it on the downcasted face of Iwamoto. A soft sniff and the hand holding on to the glass trembled.
Shibutani sighed, turning away as he let the younger man sob quietly under his hat, waving away the bartenders trying to get their stations ready. Yoshizawa and Matsumura quietly placed a sign outside to inform them that the club will be starting late tonight. Fukazawa had disappeared into the room with Watanabe, Sakuma, and Miyadate; whilst Abe runs the floor with the waiters and bartenders.
When Iwamoto’s hands stopped trembling, sniffing noises had ceased, Iwamoto raised his head and gave Shibutani a determined look. Shibutani frowned and shook his head at the young boy, taking his hat off his head. Gesturing to the toilet behind the bar, Shibutani left to check for the bartenders.
Iwamoto slipped into the bathroom easily, staring at his reflection in the mirror. It’s not like he wanted to leave but there was a mission, and he was the most suitable to go. He can’t stay here and risk the enemies finding out about Fukazawa.
Freshening his looks up, Iwamoto left the bathroom just before the briefing had started. He sat beside Miyadate who was leaning into Watanabe. Sakuma sent him a look - a questioning look - which he pointedly ignored. Sakuma was overly protective of Fukazawa and Iwamoto knows the petite man is not pleased at him.
The night went very well, and Iwamoto felt that Miyadate truly was the Top Host of the club. They were in the changing rooms of the hosts, and jokes were shared and laughter was everywhere. Until Iwamoto took his shirt off and the room fell silent.
Abe whistled appreciatively and the rest of the hosts were just staring at Iwamoto. Iwamoto blinked and looked down on his chest, frowning. Then Watanabe spoke.
“Damn Hikaru, I never knew you were hiding all that underneath your clothes.”
Miyadate nodded and Abe quietly asked if it was painful. Iwamoto frowned, and tilted his head in confusion. Abe cleared his throat and pointed to the scar at the lower left of his torso.
“Ah, that? It was painful, but it healed and it doesn’t hurt anymore. Thanks for asking Abe-chan!” Iwamoto replied, voice cheery.
Fukazawa stole a look at the wound and wondered why hasn’t he seen that wound when he slept over that night. There was a knock on the door and Yoshizawa popped his head in.
“Hikaru, Shibutani-sama is looking for you. He says to be quickly because ‘Hina’ is coming soon.” Yoshizawa reported and Iwamoto nodded.
“I’ll be at the entrance in five minutes.” Iwamoto ran to the shower and the rest of the room heard the shower come on.
Yoshizawa ducked out of the room and everyone stared at the showers. Iwamoto stepped out swiftly with a towel around his waist and dressed himself. A clean black suit, with a black shirt that is left unbuttoned on the top, and a necklace no one had seen him wearing it before.
He combed back his hair and waxed it up, as he sprayed a little cologne on his wrist. Rubbing his wrist to his neck, the door opened and Shibutani walked in. He took one glance at Iwamoto and wrinkled his nose.
“You know, Hina is so going to flip out on that dress sense.”
Iwamoto rolled his eyes as he replied. “At least Ace will be pleased with my appearance and I won’t hear endless nagging all night long. Plus, it is respectful to dress decently to the dinner.”
Shibutani kicked his butt angrily and haughtily left the room. Iwamoto gave himself one last check and bade farewell to the rest of the hosts in the room and left it. Miyadate blinked and Sakuma broke the silent.
“Damn he has style, looks Fukka’s problem just grew.” Sakuma grinned evilly at his friend.
Fukazawa coughed loudly, turning his back on all of them. He quickly threw his clothes on and stepped out of the room before his red face betrayed him any further. He stepped out of the shop and watched Iwamoto get on a black tinted car.
When the engine started and the car disappeared around the first corner, Fukazawa felt his eyes burning with tears. Thoughts raced in his mind, but the most painful was that one glaringly obvious fact. Wiping the stray tear that fell, Fukazawa stepped in the opposite direction and walked home.
Iwamoto and him. They belong to two different worlds.
Vastly. Deeply. Different worlds. One a yakuza, another a host.
But Fukazawa realised that he is willing to take the fall, join the darkness anytime if it means he can stay by the other man’s side. And he knows how Iwamoto will react if he brings this up over a meal.
Fukazawa took a nice long shower and crawled his way to the bed. He laid there, eyes wide, and he couldn’t fall into slumber. He remembered how the pillow at Iwamoto’s house smelt of him, the clean fresh smell of the sheets, the strong aroma of coffee when he woke up.
Fukazawa groaned and sitting up in bed. This is bad. He can’t get the other man - younger too, he had realised - out of his head. This is bad.
He walked into his kitchen and poured himself a glass of water. He took a drink and froze, thinking of the younger man’s broken face when he rejected the drink that night. Fukazawa shook his head sharply, trying to get the image out of his head.
“Fukazawa Tatsuya, stop thinking of Iwamoto Hikaru! Please!!” Fukazawa yelled and slammed the glass on the table.
His doorbell rang shrilly in the silence, making Fukazawa jump. He quietly walked over to the door and peeked at the door hole. Then, he blinked.
The door threw open and Iwamoto limped in, pressing a cloth to his abdomen. Fukazawa let out a gasp and quickly pulled the man in, peering out into the corridor to check if anyone followed him. Iwamoto sunk to his knees and collapsed over by the entrance.
“Iwamoto? Hello, Iwamoto?” Fukazawa hissed, shaking the fallen man gently.
“Fukka, it hurts.” Iwamoto whined. “Can you call Yoko-niichan for me? I need him to extract the bullet in my waist.”
“Bullet?!” Fukazawa screeched and quickly lifted his shirt up.
There was a bullet embedded in the abdomen, and the blood was gushing out. Fukazawa ran to his room, took a fresh towel and pressed it against the wound. Iwamoto whimpered and stared at Fukazawa through his hooded eyes.
Fukazawa made a soft noise of distress and Iwamoto’s hand rested on top of his. Fukazawa looked up and Iwamoto shook his head, passing the older man his phone. Iwamoto dialled the number and the line quickly connected.
Hikaru! Where are you, Takki said you took the bullet for him.
Yoko-nii, I’m at Fukka’s place.
Fukka? As in Fukazawa? Are you mad?
I had to, they were chasing me. I could out run them so I took the long way, and found myself near to his neighbourhood, so I took my chance.
I’ll be there, hang on.
The line disconnected and Iwamoto slumped on the floor again. Fukazawa stared at him. Iwamoto closed his eyes briefly, hands dropping off Fukazawa’s. Fukazawa patted him gently on the shoulder and helped him limp to his bed.
Fukazawa quickly helped Iwamoto to change out of his clothes, and was hesitant to pass him a new set of clothes as he was still bleeding. Iwamoto noticed his hesitation and sat up on the bed. There was already a red stain on the bed and Iwamoto winced.
Iwamoto stood up slowly, making Fukazawa fumbled as the latter reached out to steady him. The tall muscular man walked out slowly to the living room and slumped against the door. Fukazawa made a questioning noise and Iwamoto looked at him.
“You’re a clean freak and I don’t actually want to make a mess on your bed.” Iwamoto smiled softly, eyes soft but he winced again in pain.
“Don’t be an idiot, Hikaru please.” Fukazawa yelled, eyes shining with tears. “Get up, we are moving to the bed!”
Iwamoto hold on to his hand and pulled him down so Fukazawa is hovering over him. He kissed the corners of the eyes, licking the tears that had escaped. He pulled away, eyes soft with love.
“Don’t cry, please Fukka. I’m not worth the tears.” Iwamoto whispered.
“Hikaru…” Fukazawa blinked, hands reaching up to cup his cheek.
Fukazawa closed the gap between them, letting their lips meet. He pressed up to the injured man, kissing him like the world was ending. Iwamoto’s bloodied hand reach up to tangle the long digits in his hair, pulling him closer.
Fukazawa bit on the lower lip and Iwamoto gasped, allowing the older man to slip his tongue in. Iwamoto whimpered and Fukazawa shifted to straddle the man’s thighs, careful to not touch the wound. They broke apart briefly before Fukazawa leant in to lick the saliva on his chin.
Iwamoto laughed softly, nuzzling Fukazawa’s cheek with his lips. Fukazawa squirmed and was about to kiss him again, the doorbell rang. Iwamoto cursed and Fukazawa kissed him on the forehead before he went to open the door.
Yokoyama stood at the door with the police from the other day. He took in Fukazawa’s messy hair and his companion whacked him on the head before he went in with a loud “sorry for the intrusion!”. Yokoyama followed suit and raised his eyebrows at Iwamoto laid sprawled on the floor.
“Seems like I interrupted something, Hikaru.” Yokoyama said, bending over to check the wound.
“Yoko-niichan and Murakami-kun!” Iwamoto chirped as Fukazawa quickly poured two glasses of water for the guests.
Murakami asked where’s the kitchen and Fukazawa pointed him to the correct direction. The doe eyed man slipped easily into the kitchen and started preparing for a meal. Iwamoto was transferred to the sofa and Yokoyama had a small surgical knife with a tweezer.
Fukazawa whimpered when he watched Yokoyama gently eased the bullet out of the abdomen. Iwamoto grasped the air and Fukazawa immediately held on to the hand. They met eyes briefly and the grip on Fukazawa’s hand tightened as Yokoyama pulled the entire bullet out.
He dropped the bloodied bullet on the coffee table, inciting a loud whimper of protest, and deftly sew the wound up. Iwamoto groaned and the pale man sighed. Fukazawa quickly took a clean towel, wetted it and gently cleaned the dried blood off his body.
Iwamoto purred softly when Fukazawa stroked his abs with the cloth and the latter blushed deeply. Yokoyama cleared his throat and asked what happened at the exchange. Iwamoto closed his eyes, and uttered just one simple word.
Murakami walked out from the kitchen and passed Fukazawa a bowl of rice porridge and told him to feed Iwamoto. Fukazawa gently blew on the porridge and lifted the spoon to Iwamoto’s lips. Iwamoto swallowed the spoonful of porridge and sighed happily.
“So it was that bastard?” Murakami asked, and Iwamoto nodded.
Fukazawa finished wiping the dried blood off and he stood up to leave the living room for them to talk. Iwamoto stretched his hand and pulled him back down. Looking back at the seniors, he asked.
“Fukka can stay and listen, can’t he?”
Yokoyama rolled his eyes while Murakami pretended to wipe tears from his eyes. “Little Hikaru found his love!”
“Hina mama, you’re give us your blessing right?” Iwamoto played along and Yokoyama rolled his eyes again.
Iwamoto blew him a kiss and lean his head on Fukazawa’s shoulders. Fukazawa froze and Yokoyama laughed, rolling on the floor. Murakami whacked him on the head fondly and stood up.
“We’ll discuss this when we are done with the loose ends, Ryo will send you a message when he is done with his side of the deal.” Yokoyama said, slipping a hand around Murakami’s waist casually.
“We’ll not bother you two anymore. Hikaru, change your bandage regularly alright? Don’t think Fukazawa-kun will appreciate Ryo coming over to stay to make sure your bandages are changed properly.” Murakami nagged as he and Yokoyama let themselves out of Fukazawa’s house.
Iwamoto’s eyes crinkled into two thin lines and waved goodbye at them. He yawned and stretched his arms above his head. Turning back to Fukazawa, he blinked and stretched a hand out to ruffle Fukazawa’s hair.
“Sorry to get you kind of involved in this. This was the only safe place I know in this neighbourhood.” Iwamoto smiled. “Thanks for keeping me here until Yoko-nii came. I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”
Iwamoto was about to open the door when Fukazawa tugged on his arm. He looked up at the taller man and whispered. “Stay. Just tonight, stay here, don’t leave.”
Iwamoto grinned. “Sure, if Fukka says so.”
“Plus, you don’t have a shirt on… I don’t want to have to go to the police station to bail you out after someone call the police on you!” Fukazawa replied, hands trembling as Iwamoto followed him back inside.
He hurried to the bedroom to find a suitable shirt for the man – Iwamoto is so built; Fukazawa was sure he can’t fit into any of his own. He heard Iwamoto cleaning up the living room and quickly find a black tank top for him. He walked out of his bedroom and watches Iwamoto pouring a cloudy mixture on the blood stains and wiping them off.
Iwamoto turned and grinned at Fukazawa while he reached for the bloodied bullet, wrinkling his nose. He asked for a plastic bag and quickly wrapped the bullet in it, keeping it away on the shelf by the television. Fukazawa poked him on the shoulder gently, holding out a clean tanktop.
Face turning red, Fukazawa pressed the tanktop against Iwamoto’s bare chest. “You’ll catch a cold, if you aren’t going to wear something.”
Iwamoto grinned, taking the tank top with a soft ‘thank you’. He threw it on and resumed his cleaning. Once he is done, he asked if Fukazawa had extra beddings as he would have to soak the current bloodied ones overnight for the stains to wash off.
Fukazawa stared at him and whispered. “I really want to kiss you right now.”
Iwamoto grinned, stepping closer to Fukazawa, and pressed him up the wall. His lips brushed past Fukazawa’s softly and bit down on them. The broke apart briefly and Iwamoto gave Fukazawa a gentle smile.
“Would you like to give this – give us – a try?” Iwamoto asked quietly, his breath tickling Fukazawa’s ear.
Fukazawa didn’t reply. All he did was to lean forward and crashed his lips against Iwamoto’s. He heard a soft laugh from the taller man and he bit down hard on the lower lip.
Iwamoto pressed deeper and move his lips down to the jawline, nuzzling it. He kissed his way down to the throat and nipped at the adam’s apple playfully. He shifted to the collarbones and sucked on a spot, leaving a bright red mark behind.
Fukazawa gasped, hands going to Iwamoto’s hair. He threw his head back and Iwamoto returned to the neck, kissing it gently, careful to not leave a mark. Shibutani may treat him like a younger brother but Fukazawa is still a Host.
“You’re such a tease. What the heck.” Fukazawa groaned, his hand slipping underneath the shirt, roaming the hard muscles.
Iwamoto nipped his ears and sucked on the lobe. Fukazawa arched up to him, hands tugging on the pants Iwamoto had on, and fingers fumbled to remove the belt. Iwamoto growled, hands coming to rest on Fukazawa’s hips, as he pulled away quickly to look at Fukazawa’s eyes.
Fukazawa stared back, watching the soft brown eyes cloud over with lust when he briefly stroke on the length through the pants. He felt bolder and unzipped the pants quickly, pushing a hand in to cup the length. Iwamoto moaned, his left hand sliding down to squeeze Fukazawa’s butt.
“Fukka...” Iwamoto pant, hand massaging the butt cheeks as Fukazawa ran his hand up and down the length.
Fukazawa did not reply. He pulled the pants down quickly, Iwamoto stepping out of them, and Fukazawa knelt on his knees. Iwamoto took a sharp intake of breath and looked down, meeting eyes with Fukazawa.
Fukazawa pulled his briefs down, and pressed his lips to Iwamoto’s dick. He kissed his way down to the base, mouthing slightly at the balls before licking a wet strip up to the tip. He looked up, maintaining eye contact with Iwamoto, as he wrapped his lips around the tip and sucked hard.
“Fukka, gooooooood. That is...” Iwamoto groaned, his hands fisting in Fukazawa’s hair, as he controls his hips to not thrust forward.
Fukazawa took his length in his mouth, nearly gagging, as his hands stroked the remaining length that couldn’t fit. Iwamoto’s dick was like the man himself - tall, or long actually, and slender. Fukazawa whimpered around the dick when Iwamoto snapped his waist forward.
Pulling out to the tip, Fukazawa resumed sucking on it as his hands run up and down the length. His thumb reached up to the tip and pressed down as he kissed down the vein throbbing on the side. Fukazawa felt the hand in his hair tightened and he mouthed his way back to the tip kissing it gently, before he pushed it in his mouth again.
“Fukka, let go now... I’m going to come in your mouth, let go now... ahhhhhhhhh” Iwamoto warned, as he let out a high pitched moan, and came into Fukazawa’s mouth.
Fukazawa swallowed his load, licking him clean and smiled up at him. Iwamoto panted and pulled him up, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. Fukazawa was pressed back on the wall, as Iwamoto slid a leg between his, pressing down on his erection.
“Hikaru... please, touch me. Anywhere. Just... touch me...” Fukazawa pleaded.
“Choose one - the sofa or the bed?” Iwamoto growled, hands unbuckling the other man’s belt.
“Whichever; I don’t care. You can do me at this wall. I don’t care.” Fukazawa begging, rubbing himself on the muscled thigh.
“Don’t complain when you wake up sore!” Iwamoto replied and pushed Fukazawa’s pants down.
His fingers caressed the soft skin on the butt and slowly find the rim. He circled the soft skin slowly, his fingers stroking the trembling muscles. He kissed Fukazawa gently and brought his fingers up to the shorter man’s lips.
“Suck.” Iwamoto commanded and Fukazawa obliged, taking in the two digits, sucking on them hard.
He licked and sucked on the fingers, while Iwamoto rubbed their erections together. Fukazawa gasped at the friction, and the two finger left his mouth. Fukazawa whined at the loss and he whimpered when he felt one of the finger tracing his entrance again.
He pulled Iwamoto down for a kiss and the younger man slipped the wet finger in. Fukazawa gasped, clawing on Iwamoto’s back as he moaned when the long digit swiped a particular spot and he sees stars.
“There... Hikaru... please...”
Iwamoto grunted, pushing in another finger, and Fukazawa screamed. Iwamoto kissed his neck as Fukazawa trembled against his chest, while the fingers pushed in and out quickly. After a while, Fukazawa started going with the rhythm and pushed down the fingers.
“Hikaru...” Fukazawa whimpered, hands gripping his dick.
Iwmaoto bit down on his shoulder and let Fukazawa position his dick to the entrance. His fingers slipped out and he pushed in quickly, slamming the full length in. Fukazawa let out a soft cry and he started to wiggle around.
“Move, Hikaru. I’m not made up of glass!” Fukazawa wailed, moving on his dick.
Iwamoto pressed Fukazawa up the wall, the shorter male wrapped his legs around Iwamoto’s waist and Iwamoto started to move. Fukazawa was loud, moaning and gasping whenever Iwamoto hit that particular spot in him. He was showy, dramatic rolls of his hips to meet Iwamoto midway, pushing against Iwamoto.
Iwamoto snapped his hips fast, driving Fukazawa into an incoherent puddle of moans, as he rested his head on Iwamoto’s shoulders. Iwamoto slowed down, gently thrusting in and out, rocking Fukazawa slowly. He whimpered as Fukazawa tightened around his dick, engulfing him and clamping down on him.
He kissed Fukazawa softly, trying to get him to relax, not wanting to hurt him at all. He nuzzled on his jawline and kissed his way up to the corner of his eyes. The shorter male look up and bit down on his jawline.
“Make me come.” He whispered, licking on the spot he bit on.
“I will Fukka.” Iwamoto promised, resuming his speed and soon Fukazawa was bouncing off his lap.
“Hikaru, Hikaru, Hikaru...” Fukazawa moaned, tightening down on the dick.
“Tatsuya, stay with me… forever alright...” Iwamoto replied softly, biting down on his shoulders as Fukazawa came in hot spurts all over their stomachs.
He thrusted a few times and pulled out, coming on the walls. He held on to Fukazawa and lowered him on the sofa, letting the older man calm down from his orgasm. He went to look for a cloth, wetting it with warm water and came back to wipe the older man clean.
Fukazawa blinked up at him sleepily, and touched the blood soaked bandage. Iwamoto took his hand and kissed the inner wrist, soothing him to sleep. He got up and changed the bandage quickly, wiping himself clean and went to change the bedsheets into fresh new ones.
He went back to the living room, squatting just beside Fukazawa’s snoring form, and gently lifted him up and left him on the bed. He tucked him in and took the extra pillow and blanket to the sofa, and settled down for the night. His sides ached but his heart is full.
Turning to his uninjured side, Iwamoto drifted to sleep - sleeping better than he had for the past months.
When Fukazawa woke up as the sun streamed in from the windows, curtains were left undrawn, all the memories from the night before flashed across his mind. Iwamoto being injured, the two seniors came to patch him up, the kiss they shared at the door, and of course the intimate sex they had. His lower body felt sore but Fukazawa sappily giggled into his pillow at the memory.
He frowned and looked to his side, realising that the younger man was not sleeping beside him. He felt a pang of annoyance and threw the covers off. He entered the bathroom and took in the damage from yesterday’s passion.
Red, angry marks dotted his shoulders and chest making Fukazawa curse softly under his breath. If he only unbutton the top part of his shirt, it should cover up nicely. Touching the bite mark on his shoulder, Fukazawa smiled to himself as he remembered the words Hikaru said when they came.
Freshening up, Fukazawa stepped into the kitchen and started preparing breakfast for the two of them. An hour later, Iwamoto woke up to the sizzling of the pan and rubbed his eyes. He sat up and winced, forgetting he had an injury.
He took in his surroundings and memories of the night before came flooding back. He rubbed his stiff neck, and sat up on the sofa. He heard noises in the kitchen and suspected the man to be there.
“Fukka?” He called and he watched the older man limped his way out of the kitchen.
He walked to the man, and caressed his cheek gently. “Does it hurt a lot?”
“It’s good pain... well it was my first time doing it with a guy... so...” Fukazawa blushed, hiding his head into Iwamoto’s chest.
“Why didn't you join me in bed?” He asked accusingly, prodding Iwamoto’s chest.
“Because you have work tonight and I can’t let you limp to work. I can’t control myself and my buddy down there if we were to share a bed you know?” Iwamoto teased, watching Fukazawa’s face reddening.
“Pervert!” Fukazawa screeched. “I WILL FILE A LAWSUIT AGAINST YOU!” **
“But you love me.” Iwamoto said, eyes soft as he smiled.
“But I love you.” Fukazawa affirmed.
They exchanged a morning kiss and Fukazawa pushed him to the table. “And now breakfast… I don’t cook as well as Date-san but… this should work?”
“I’ll eat whatever you cook for me.” Iwamoto replied, digging in on the eggs as Fukazawa slipped into the chair opposite him.
Who said the morning after are usually awkward? Fukazawa thinks he could get use to this, to cooking breakfast every morning, to having Iwamoto by his side. He helped himself with the toast and Iwamoto polished the eggs off.
“Hey, I haven’t ate the eggs yet Hikaru!!!!”
--------- OMAKE!!!!! ---------
“SO YOU FUCKED HIKARU?!” The other hosts screeched and Fukazawa hushed them loudly.
“Yes, I did. So what?” Fukazawa snapped back.
Miyadate stared at him like he had grown another head while Watanabe looked at him thoughtfully. Sakuma reached over and groped Fukazawa’s butt, inciting a loud painful yelp. Watanabe and Sakuma high-fived each other and scoot away from Fukazawa.
“I knew it, Fukka is so bottom oh my.” Abe nonchalantly said, flipping through the book he was reading.
Fukazawa made a loud noise of protest as a knock came from the door. It swung open and Iwamoto peeked in. Fukazawa grinning, walking up to him, as Iwamoto curled a hand around his waist.
“Yoko-nii says he wants to be introduced to you formally… Will you be free tomorrow night? I know it’s your off day and if you have already got plans…” Iwamoto asked softly.
“My plans all involve you so, I’m up for it. Should I be scared?” Fukazawa kissed Iwamoto on the lips.
“I have to formally introduce you to the gang but no, you shouldn’t be scared.” Iwamoto laughed. “Though, they would be asking awkward questions…”
“Like who fucks who?” Sakuma called from the inner part of the room.
Iwamoto looked past Fukazawa’s shoulder and laughed. Nodding his head, he replied. “Usually Subaru-kun asks that but he is on holidays now so maybe not much.”
Fukazawa kissed his jawline and smiled happily. “If it’s for you, I don’t care who I have to meet.”
Iwamoto grinned back, releasing Fukazawa. “I’ll get back to work, please rest well all of you.”
They waved him goodbye and Abe quipped. “You two feel like a newly married couple. Date-san and Shota feels like an old married couple.”
“And what are we?” Sakuma asked, making Abe blush a little.
“We are friends!” Abe replied easily, and Sakuma pouted at the statement.
Fukazawa sniggered when he caught the devilish smirk Abe had on his face and the other two hosts chose to ignore the rest of them. It’s another peaceful day at Snowdrops Host Club.