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Natsume was alluring in so many different ways. As he swayed around the set, as emotion shuffled through his sweet honey eyes, as his dainty little hands handled every prop with the care of a lover. When he was lost in thought, when he pulled hair behind his ear he was taciturn and otherworldly like Yuki-san, when he smiled in cordiality he was cute and bright as Mitsu, when he took a bow, when he moved his hands he was graceful and regal as Nagi. He was poised and reserved and yet his performance was raw, ruthless, a bolt of lightning in the blue, and once it was done rumbling, quiet. The world in perfect stillness.
Yamato could have slapped himself out of the trance, had he not been on set, surrounded by people, Yuki-san with his back turned three meters away talking to the producer, cameramen adjusting their lenses to his left.
Wasn’t Natsume really into tarot and occultism? Surely he must have cast some spell on Yamato. His eyes kept gluing themselves to the boy’s figure, chasing his eyes like he were Medusa turning him into stone. Stone, no, not stone. Marble. Marble was more like Natsume.
Being turned into a marble statue didn’t sound half bad.
Honeycomb, caramel, marble hair and cherry lips, voice like honey milk, hands sculpted by the masters of old, Natsume’s gaze locked onto his, Natsume pinning him against the wall, Natsume staring him up like he’s a sewer rat and then one second later, smiling, sweetly, sickeningly sweet, giggling in pale rose and cream white, leaning one inch closer, brushing a strand of hair that’s slipped off of his braid.
“What’s with that look, Nikaido-san? I warned you not to try me.”
Try me. Head tilting to the side in that perfectly calculated angle, eyes shadowed over by platinum blond, lips glossy, terse, framed into a smile that would put the Mona Lisa to shame. Yamato would be lying if he said he didn’t want to try Natsume.
“Silver tongue turned to lead? Did you not say you would be laughing in my face?”
And oh, laugh he did. Yamato chuckled, mischievous grin blooming forth along with the rise in his heartbeat, the rush of blood into his hands.
“I did not lie to you, Natsume. I promise you, I’m malicious at heart”, he sneered, hand reaching up to wrap itself around the soft edge of Natsume’s chin, thumb grazing over his lower lip, dragging out a caress, applying just a bit of pressure just for the sake of getting a reaction.
Natsume’s shoulders shook, his eyes went bright honey with surprise then dark with lust, his lips quivered and he composed himself, perfect face, perfect eyes, all within a millionth of a second. If Yamato’s hand on Natsume’s skin was shaking, too, he couldn’t be bothered to care.
“Someone here’s got a silver tongue, and I’m pretty sure it’s not me.”
“Let’s try it out, then, senpai”, slurred as a tipsy whisper, purred as a lovelorn confession, rattled as a snake’s deceitful call.
Yamato kissed Natsume but in every gesture he did feel like he was being lured; Natsume was pliant and soft against his lips, he whined as their silhouettes cut into one another like he was taken by surprise, he laid his hands delicately against Yamato’s chest like he had been ready to push him away, he let himself be raided and taken and still the beat was just a little off, Yamato felt his tongue dancing to the backbeat while Natsume carried the melody, he was a little too pliant, a little too soft, a little too sweet and good for it to not be part of a performance.
And still, the sunstorm blazing in the pit right where his chest and his stomach met, it was unflinchingly raw.
Natsume didn’t pull away until Yamato did, breathless, hot, yearning, aching for more, and the first thing he did was entangle his fingers in Yamato’s hair.
Blushing. He was blushing through his makeup.
“You’re such a good kisser, Nikaido-san~”, and he sighed, the conniving bastard, he giggled in ivory white and he leaned closer and pecked Yamato again, laughter still coiling warm into the kiss.
Body singing with excitement, Yamato chased after Natsume’s lips again and he moved his head back but his body stayed still, and it was hard to tell who kissed who, but soon enough, they were locked in another kiss. Stubborn, headstrong, demanding, tongue to tongue, bite to bite, don’t you dare tease me any longer, don’t you dare think of anybody else but me kinda kiss.
Natsume sighed into Yamato’s open mouth as he pulled away, and again he laughed, again his hands reached up but this time he cupped Yamato’s face, caressed the soft skin of his cheeks, smiled at him sugar sweet and crooned, “thank you for the meal”.
Yamato tried to reply when a dainty finger pushed onto his lips.
“Shhh. Don’t you say any sweet words to me. I promise you, you’ll regret it.”
“Na-… Natsume?”
Medusa was casting her spell again and after three seconds of kissing the air separating them through locked eyes, Natsume leaned over to whisper a sweet nothing into Yamato’s ear.
“Just kidding.”