Damned American

“Thank you Mr. K-san, please sign here,” the young FedEx delivery boy tells the man with a hitch to his voice. ‘This man is freaking scary,’ he thought to himself, as the crazy American stood there hugging the life out of the box that was given to him.

“Agrigato,” K sings, scribbling his name across the electronic box.

“Have a nice day, Sir,” the young man tells the giggling blond American. Walking away, quickly as possible, muttering to himself, “Damn foreign American’s.”

Meanwhile, a giddy K-san makes his way through the maze of corridors of the NG looking for a secluded area to set up shop. His mind wondering back to that fateful day when Bad Luck thought they could get away with their bull shit.

*********************************************************************

It all started with one little prank, one harmless prank, on the famous romance novelist. You know the one, right? The one with the perpetual stick shoved far up his posterior, the blond bomb shell that has the personality of a sushi roll, that nasty little prick…one Yuki Eiri.

Well, let’s just start off with saying everyone has their breaking point, and our little Shindou had found his that day. After months of the shallow insults and frost bitten remarks, the pink haired singer took the initiative against him…


~It was a cold winter’s day, the rains were drowning the large glass windows, and it couldn’t have reflected the inner being of the youth watching from the inside with sad eyes. His heart torn between the love welling inside, and the rational part of his brain telling him to grow up and move on. Shuichi told his brain to take a hike.

Pulling rapt attention from the panes, Shuichi moved about the apartment gathering the things needed for his departure. The year long tour of Japan had been the highlight his career as a singer. Nothing could go wrong now right? Right? So very wrong, his youthful optimism was.

Three days before the Bad Luck/Nittle Grasper tour launched there was an all out brawl between the two lovers, leaving the younger of the two upset and hurt. Seemingly unaware of the internal injuries the blond caused his lover, Yuki ignored the quiet sobs coming from the bathroom.

On the eve of their departure, Shuichi tried once more to woo is wayward love into a night of passion. Sadly the man was in no mood for his little love. Teary eyed and upset, Shuichi spent the night on the couch.

Morning came in the form of red rimmed eyes and a horribly stuffy nose! Anger began to well deep within the normally placid youth.

A little raspy voice whispered all sorts of interesting things to the boy, telling him how much more he was worth, that the loser he was so in love with needed to pay, and how to collect payment. This was a very different feeling, and one that might not be too bad.

‘Give him a gift, something to remember you by,’ the inner, albeit, evil intentioned Shuichi whispered delicately in his thoughts. Deciding to listen to the voices in his head, the pink haired vocalist knew exactly what to do.

A very vindictive smile peeled back his cherry lips, getting up from the curled position on the couch, Shuichi towards his room with uninhibited glee.

Crashing through the closed door, rummaging the dresser drawers for his ’gift’, the singer clutched the small bottle tightly to his chest as he ran back down the hallway to the bath room. Swinging back the blue shower curtain, snatching Yuki’s favorite bottle of Shampoo. Yuki, being the closet diva that he is, has many type of shampoo. Some for days with wavy hair, some for fine silky hair, and others ranging from raspberry scents to some stinky smelling flower.

‘And he calls me the fairy,’ Shuichi idly thought to himself as he poured the ’gift’ into the cranberry/melon shampoo bottle. The inner demon roared with laughter at the thought of their game. As well as Shindou, he couldn’t wait to hear about this. Come morning a very pissed, pink haired, Yuki Eiri would mostly likely be calling him screaming. Served the bastard right for being an ass.

Bundling the bottle of permanent pink hair dye, Shuichi tossed it into the kitchen garbage. Gathering his luggage he stood to the door with a happy hitch to his step. “This will be great,” he said aloud, loving the surge of power he felt pulsing through his veins.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`End Flashback’~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks prior:


“Has anyone seen Mr. Shindou-san today?” the worried voice of Mr. Sakano wonders to the only two present members of Bad Luck.

“He said he’d be right back, he left mumbling about taking care of something,” the calm, collected, smooth voice of Nakano Hiroshi told the nervous dark haired producer. ‘Is there ever a day that man doesn’t cause himself an ulcer?’ the red haired guitarist wondered to himself.

“We should begin, this is Shuichi we’re talking about, and I don’t want to be here all day waiting for his sorry ass to be ready to sing!” Fujisaki bit out, anger lacing every word. Now, there’s something you must understand, Suguru and Shindou no longer fight the way they used too. No, not any longer. They actually have become quite close, as well as Hiro. But, for certain reasons they bicker as a show. It’s a tactic to keep unwanted attention from their backs. And, so far, it has worked beautifully.

“Well, I guess it couldn’t hurt to start with out him,” Sakano said, rustling around with that weeks itinerary. “Well, this weeks sales are up, and well on their way to catching Nittle Grasper. This is very promising!” the producer told them gleefully. “To think, Bad Luck is a new band and are quickly rivaling the most popular band in Japan! Great job guys.”

This meeting of the minds, sort of say, drawled on and on. Hiro and Fujisaki listened with feigned attention, trying not to laugh as their plan came to a head.

Hiroshi, will strict orders to excuse himself at exactly two thirty p.m. watched the clock tic in trepidation. Finally, the large hand landed on the six, “Excuse me for a moment, I need to use the restroom.” Getting up, Hiro made his way to his destined location. Tucking himself neatly behind the open door, listening for the unsuspecting victim to come along, he tried to snub the giggles.

Scrolling down his Nextel phone, looking for the desired number, Hiro whispered, “Rose Warrior, come over, Rose Warrior this is Red Ridding Hood in position waiting for orders.”

“This is rose Warrior, in position as well, waiting for target. Hold your position until I call the warning. Over,” Shuichi’s hushed voice came over the phone.

Nodding to himself, the long haired man tried to blend into the woodwork. Or, in this case, the tacky colored paint. One would think that THE Seguchi Touma would have a better sense of fashionable designer abilities. Wrinkling his nose at the Pea Green Soup color paint, it would appear not.

Meanwhile, three halls over, was Shindou Shuichi tucked into his own little niche waiting for victim, Code Name: School Girl. Every day, around the hour of two thirty, K-san walks through this hall. The team of social deviants had high hopes that this day would be no different. Everything was riding on the fact that K would travel this path, and not stray from the norm. For the most part the gun wielding manager was highly predictable, the boys we betting on it today.

The echoed tapping of shoes flooded Shuichi’s ears, ’Good!’ he thought to himself as he risked a peek around the curtain he was currently hiding behind. At a quick glance his thoughts were confirmed, it was ’School Girl’.

Remaining motionless, Shuichi awaited K’s departure, knowing he had three minutes or so before he reached Hiro’s location. Peering around the brown cloth once more, the silent ’Rose Warrior’ waited for the last wisp of flowing blond hair to leave his sight. “Red Riding Hood, this is Rose Warrior, target is heading your way. Over,” he told his counterpart, racing out towards his new destination.

“Confirmed. Over,” Hiro replied, himself now waiting for the tapping of shoes on tile.

Minutes passed, seemingly like hours, as he waited. And waited…and waited. Inwardly he began to worry. What if K took another rout? Should he call over to Shuichi to ask what to do? Should he stay where he was? Oh, the pressure was building in an alarming rate. His heart beating rapidly, sweat trickling down his spine, while he struggled on what to do!

But, finally, the sound of K’s loud shoes assaulted the guitarist’s ear. ’Thank the Gods!’ he prayed silently, getting ready. But, as soon as his inner prayer was release, and new catastrophe was quick in the making. ’Where the hell is Shindou?’ he worried, not seeing the man where he should be.

The game plan was, Hiro would remain until Shuichi told him to move. Shuichi positioning himself at a vantage point where he would be able to judge K-san’s approach. But, there was no Shuichi!

The steps came louder and louder, as his heart raced. ’This isn’t gonna work!’ his mind screamed. ’Just calm down, Shuichi’s never failed before. You just need to relax,’ he argued back.

A movement caught his keen eyes, there in all his pink haired glory was the Rose Warrior in position looking a little worse for the wear. ’Mnnnn,’ he wondered, ’that’s interesting.’

The clicking stopped for a second, and the boys attempted to still their beating hearts. Had K heard Shuichi’s clumsy approach? Wanting nothing more than to close his eyes, and will K to keep moving, Hiro forced the green orbs to remain open and observant. Shuichi’s signal is gonna be quick, and he did not want to miss it.

Eyes locked in scalding intensity, Hiro watched his friend avidly. Shuichi, switching from the reflecting glass to the hidden Hiroshi, monitored K’s movement. The silent Nakano saw his friend’s physical release of breath as they both heard K’s shoes once more. Oh, what a beautiful sound gracing their ears!

Lavender eyes pierced green ones as the signal was launched, a middle finger shoved up the right nostril while he crossed his eyes. Smiling at him, Hiro casually walked into the hall with one hand in the back of his waist band of the dark jeans he was wearing.

Just as planned, Hiroshi collided with the blond. Both hard bodies slammed into another, as they fell gracelessly to the hard white tiles below.

Hiro grabs a hold of them, as they fall, twisting K so that he lands on top of him. Putting his best ’innocent’ look, Hiro grips the fallen body of the blond with all his might. “Oi, sorry K-san, I did not see you,” Hiro spoke into the ear of K, his voice breathless and throaty.

Visible shivers ran down the manager’s spine as that erotically sinful voice tracked down his body in the most delectable of ways. Closing his blue eyes, the blond man was unable to see Hiro’s wondering hands.

Thrusting slender hips upward in a wiggling distraction, Hiro lets a small moan escape his parted lips. Smooth fingers dug into the shoulder holster, the resting place of K’s most prized possession, while he quickly replaced the gleaming chrome piece with the duplicated water pistol! Oh, how pissed off will K be once he realizes the switch? Very.

“Oh, Nakano-san, that’s alright,” K told the young man under him, smiling. “It’s no big deal.”

Grinning madly at the smiling blond, Hiro moves his shoulders slightly, a silent reminder that he was trapped under the manager. Noticing the shift, the man on top blushes fiercely, while sitting up.

Hiro, flushing pink as well, quickly hides the gun into his pants. “Okay, I will be on my way then, Mr. Sakano’s going to have a fit if I take any longer,” Hiro flashed a dazzling smile, laughing, “When you gotta go, you gotta go. He’ll just have to deal with that excuse.” Standing, the red haired man shakes out his rumpled shirt.

“HA, that’ll get his blood boiling, that’s the same excuse Shuichi uses!” K shot back, laughing as well. “Be off with you then, I don’t feel like hearing that weasel whine about how late you are,” K told them, humor covering his embarrassment.

Tipping his long haired mane in acknowledgment, Hiroshi stood laughing
At the newly developed ‘waddle’ K-san is sporting. Watching the last
Piece of nicely shaped, khaki covered, ass move ‘round the corner, he
Alerted the hiding man, “Shu-chan, come on out now.”

“Did you get the goods?” the hauntingly melodic voice of Shuichi sounded from behind him. The younger male always got that funny note to his voice when engaged in a prank.

“Of course, do I ever let you down?”

Stepping out of the shadowed niche, lavender eyes burning, Japan’s sexiest singer sashayed up to the silent guitarist. Running warm, talented, fingers across his best friend’s chest, purring, “Oh, Hiro, I never had a doubt.”

Breath hitched, head tilted back, eyes screwed shut Nakano melted into Shuichi’s touch. For some reason the little vocalist always got touchy feely when things went off without a hitch. This time is no different. But, the rational side of his brain kick his erection, screaming into his mind, ’STOP HIM NOW!’

Wanting nothing more than too let this go on, as a friend he couldn’t. He’d let his control slip once, and they ended up naked having the most mind blowing oral sex that the red haired man had ever felt! The talented singer’s mouth can do something more than sing beautifully. Had he not stopped them he knew they’d go all the way…

“Shu, we should really head back to Sakano-san before he gets suspicious.” Does his voice sound far away and breathy? Heavy and dripping with arousal? Hells yes it does.