#it's an awkward angle to bite ange from!! and he pulls ange back up a second later anyway!
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paradoxi-kay · 2 years ago
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Sasaki Yoshihide as Guil and Masaki Kaoru as Ange in Visual Prison: Lunar Feast
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obsidiancorner · 5 years ago
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Celebrity Overnight- Chapter 2
ObiYukiWeek 2019 Pairing: Obi/Shirayuki  Word count: ~2500 Prompt: Gluttony
Shirayuki follows two steps behind Obi as they walk up the stairs to his apartment. Everything about the decor of the building is carefully neutral. The walls are a soft eggshell white in the pale light of specialty light bulbs and fixtures. The grayish early-American style stain on the wooden wall trim and matching stairs feels timeless. 
She feels anxious, like a nervous energy is simmering just below her skin and banking, only in part, by the solace she takes in knowing Obi has been the very definition of ‘a perfect gentleman’ over the course of the evening. She had been so eager to get out of the limo, which had felt smothering after the heat of their red carpet performance had been followed with a glance into what Obi might be like in bed thanks to the obligatory sex scene of the movie. 
Even the knowledge of how the film industry works, knowing that the director had literally been involved with every touch, every kiss, every angle, and every thrust, hadn’t broken the spell of her heated fascination. Then, she’d had to endure a limo ride while she radiated tension. He’d given her space but his knee would bump hers every now and again and each time her fever surged higher. 
When he had asked if she wanted to come up while he changed, she leaped at the opportunity to get out of the enclosed space. Distance. Distance would be good…. Except now she has to face being alone with him in his apartment… While she is trying to fight a one-sided fire. 
Brilliant. 
They stop in front of apartment 2D at the far end of the hall but, instead of pulling out keys for the lock, he raises a fist to the door and raps twice. Inside, a chair groans against a wood floor and three knocks answer, followed by the sound of a deadbolt being released.
Shirayuki’s heart sinks, sending ripples of despondent aching coursing through her. She’d expected something like this. She knew it was all publicity when she went into this date agreement and she curses herself internally. Men of his caliber are not men who are single and she knows better than to lose her head over some guy just because his charm is natural and unintentional.
Of course he has a secret girlfriend. Of course. Tonight was nothing more than free publicity for an upcoming action star and her father’s new movie. It had always been and still is nothing more than an act- par for the course for a Hollywood hot-shot. Natural chemistry means nothing in the grand scheme of life- especially lives consumed by the entertainment industry.
Hidden behind him where he couldn’t see her face, she allows the disappointment at both her forgetting the terms of their date and his evident unavailability. She wants to run, to admit this was a bad idea and just go back to her apartment to sulk with a tube of cookie dough and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra ice cream, her father’s afterparty be damned. Her heart stings, beating fast and angry against the confines of her ribs. 
As the door opens, she feels the heat of a blush surge to her cheeks as she mentally prepares herself for an awkward encounter with a woman who is likely the stereotypical half-plastic Bunny... tall, blonde, legs up to her neck, and breast augmentation to some obviously unnatural degree- the sort of woman who usually serves as arm candy to Hollywood’s hottest hunks. 
“Thanks, Ryu,” Obi says, startling her from her thoughts. 
A non-committal hum replies before she hears, “I wasn’t expecting you home this early.” but the voice is surprisingly male. It’s youthful and awkward, cracking slightly at the beginning of the statement. Shirayuki peeks out from behind Obi’s arm and comes face to face with azure eyes as wide and deep as the waters of the Mediterranian Sea. She can’t help the squeak that comes out, startled as she is to find a teenager blinking back at her. 
Delight surges through her when she realizes it isn’t last year’s Playboy Bunny of the Year but it is immediately tempered with a heavy splash of cold guilt when the boy’s eyes immediately turn down toward the floor. She hadn’t meant to startle him. She hadn’t expected a child at all, much less one that is so shy. 
“Ryu, Shirayuki. Shirayuki, Ryu,” Obi says by way of introduction as he steps aside to usher her in and the boy ducks back into the apartment. He chuckles and Shirayuki looks up at him. Turning to face her fully, he whispers, “he’s shy and usually keeps to himself but he’s a good kid and a genius with special effects.”
As if that explains anything at all. Who in their right mind decided letting a child stay with Hollywood’s newly crowned ‘Most Eligible Bachelor’ was a good idea? Where are his parents? How did he come into Obi’s care? 
Some of her puzzlement must show on her face, or maybe the gears of her brain are simply grinding too loud because he adds, “I’ll explain later if you want, Miss. But right now I’d just really like to change. This tux is constricting.”
Shirayuki scoffs. He should try wearing a dress sometime. This damnable number the stylists has squeezed her into may look quite fetching with it’s shimmery green fabric hugging her every curve, but she hasn’t taken a full breath in hours for fear of bursting a seam somewhere. She keeps her opinions on formalwear to herself and moves past him into the wide expanse of their living room before it dawns on her that he had successfully distracted her… again. 
To her right is an impressive kitchen area covered in granite countertops and sleek wood cabinetry a few shades darker than what was present in the hall. Ryu sits at the six-seater dining room table with notepads spread out around his laptop as he studies a film she’s pretty sure was made by Wistaria Entertainment. Curious, she thinks. There’s a massive TV mounted on the wall in the living room and yet he prefers to study a film on his laptop. 
“Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back,” Obi says as he walks around her and disappears down the hall. She blinks at his receding back until he turns a corner and is obscured by a wall. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other as a means to occupy herself.
She feels awkward loitering just inside the door with nothing but a studious and shy teenager to keep her company. She satisfies herself looking out the sliding doors of the balcony at the far side of the room to where the lights of the city stand out like stars in the night despite all the lights in the room being on.
“Since he seems to be forgetting his manners, I’ll ask,” Ryu pipes up. His voice is almost a true monotone and she focuses on the back of his head as if it will illuminate how he must feel being left alone with some strange woman nearly a decade older than he. “Do you need to use the bathroom or want something to drink?”
“I’ll wait, but thank you for the offer… Ryu, wasn’t it?”
It isn’t without effort that she keeps her tone light and her voice steady. She doesn’t know how to do this. She was expecting awkwardness with whatever gorgeous woman is in his life, not awkwardness with a child Obi, for some inexplicable reason, has guardianship over. 
He hums as a response, like he hadn’t quite heard her and is silently asking for her to repeat herself before he sighs and sets down his pen. He still doesn’t turn to her but mutters a soft “You’re welcome,” before picking his pen back up in anticipation of whatever is happening on his computer screen.
Tires squealing, glass shattering, and metal crunching on the screen in front of him is followed by rapid movement of his pen across the paper and makes Shirayuki curious so she inches closer. “What are you watching,” she asks, trying to at least keep conversation going until Obi comes back from the depths of the apartment. 
“It’s an old movie about death. I’m studying the special effects used,” he tells her, pausing the film as a log from a semi-trailer impales a car. She recognizes the film. She was nearing the end of elementary school when it came out and she tries not to be offended by it being called ‘old’ since he was probably an infant back then. In terms of Hollywood and technology, it is old. He might as well be studying the Matrix in terms of age but at least the graphics in that movie were ahead of its time when it was released. Maybe he already had, though. 
He presses play and she squints, turning her head sharply to avoid seeing the aftermath. She’s in medical school and can handle blood and trauma at a gross scale but that series of movies are all about the cringe factor and unnecessary, gratuitous gore. She opens her eyes to find Obi leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms folded across his torso. The amused smirk he wears makes his amber eyes smolder. 
She’s trapped, like the mosquito in Jurassic Park. She knows she’s still breathing because she can feel the fabric of her dress stretch against deeper draws of air because suddenly there isn’t enough oxygen in the room, no matter how full her lungs get. It’s dizzying for a moment, until she manages to pull her eyes away from his.
She bites her lip as she drinks him in. He’s classically handsome in the white tee shirt hugging every curve of hard muscle on his chest and arms and the tailored almost-black blue jeans leave very little about him to the imagination. She definitely does not belong with a man who looks like that. She’s no Pier Angeli. 
Damn, if he doesn’t wear ‘Rebel Without A Cause’ well. 
She’s captivated, lost in Old-Hollywood bad-boy style that seems both true to himself and contrary to the outstanding gentleman he has proved himself to be over the course of this evening, until a shift of his hips breaks his casual lean and brings him to standing at his full height. Shirayuki is a woman who prides herself on not being one to swoon over an attractive man but Obi is making it quite the challenge as he saunters over to where she stands by Ryu. 
The room feels too hot and her skin burns as though she has ben set on fire. She knows she’s blushing from her hairline to her toes. There’s an urge to hide, to turn away and walk out the door, but it doesn’t override her want. 
Obi looks like a certified masterpiece. Even Michaelangelo’s ‘David’ sculpture can’t compare to him as he glides toward her, oozing confidence and sex appeal. “Ready to go,” he asks innocently, as if he hadn’t just watched her ogle every inch of him with a degree of shame that left her blushing but wasn’t quite enough to stop her. He grabs his black leather jacket from the coat rack tucked against the wall behind the dinner table and drapes it over his shoulder before turning back to wink at her. 
Realization crashes over her. He’s putting on a show- he wants her to check him out and she played right into it. She gave him the exact reaction he was hoping for if the dangerous cant of his lips is any indication. Oh, he is a sneaky one. 
He must realize he has been caught and he lets out an amused huff before turning his attention back to Ryu who, mercifully, hadn’t been paying attention to anything but his computer screen. “I don’t know what time I’ll be home, Ryu. You’ll be okay, right,” Obi asks as the second version of the car accident comes to a close and the teens realize they have successfully evaded death. 
He doesn’t look up from where he is still scribbling notes. “I’ll be fine but I won’t wait up.”
“I’ll call or text to check in, okay,” Obi says, ruffling Ryu’s hair. 
He never stops writing as he bats Obi’s hand away but he leaves his freshly mussed hair alone. “Have fun,” he says. He adds, “stay out of trouble,” as an afterthought and Obi laughs.
Obi gestures to head out as he grabs his keys off the hook on the wall and opens the door but she hangs back. “Good night, Ryu. It was nice to meet you.”
He actually stops what he’s doing, then, and turns in his chair to face her. There’s the smallest hint of a smile as he says “You, too, Miss Shirayuki. Goodnight.” His eyes are still lowered but she feels light, like his acknowledgement is his acceptance. 
Since this publicity stunt will be an ongoing adventure, it is helpful that he likes her. Even though Obi has done a good enough job of sheltering Ryu from Hollywood press from what she can tell considering she’d never known about his underage roommate, it wouldn’t be believable if she didn’t get along with those in Obi’s circle of friends. 
Obi closes the door behind them and twirls his keys around his finger as they begin the walk down the hall. “What’s with the keys,” Shirayuki asks as a means to fill the silence. Nothing has been awkward yet but she has no intention of finding out if quietness will breed discomfort and ruin what has otherwise been an evening that is memorable for good reasons. “Won’t they ruin your pant lines unnecessarily if we have a driver?”
“Why, Miss,” he says, lifting his hand to his chest to feign embarrassment but the near predatory tilt of his smile, white teeth bared and flashing in the dim light of the hall, reveals his amusement. He definitely saw her checking him out and has zero intention of letting her off the hook for it. “Are you so concerned with the silhouette of my pants?”
“Not personally. No,” she lies. Keys in his pocket would certainly detract from other views and that would be tragic. “I just figured you would be.”
That startles a laugh out of him. “You are something else, Miss,” he muses. “But I texted my driver and told him to go home to his wife and kids. I’m driving to night,” he adds with another wink. 
The whole night has been an experiment in assumptions being dashed by better realities but hearing that he knows and has considerations for the personal details of the lives of the people he employs is heartwarming. Obi truly is a man of mystery and nothing like any actor she has ever met. 
It is a crying shame that it will end in some sort of grandiose breakup after the movie hype has run its course.
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