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Goemon felt a small rush of adrenaline every time the shutter of the camera snapped his figure into a permanent photograph. Alongside the flicker of the light against the umbrellas and soft boxes, it made him feel important. When he’d relax his pose, he’d sneak a glance over at the woman pretending to be his manager, and see her smile knowingly, as if a scheme of hers had come to fruition. He felt hot under her gaze. . Together they entered a strange predicament of a relationship, once just over-enthusiastic ‘fuck buddies’ (as lupin would put it while gritting his jealous teeth) now they found themselves spending lots of time together in the daytime, chatting on things that weren’t just their small pool of friends and work. More and more, she encouraged him to come out of his shell in ways that their shared circle wasn’t good at, and Goemon was sometimes rewarded with a peek behind the curtain, the performance of Fujiko Mine and her backstage wonders. It was simultaneously intimate as it was casual, built on the knowledge from deep within. How Goemon got himself into his current situation was well, even though Lupin had introduced himself as well connected, Fujiko very much had a strong web of people that were at her bidding. That’s how he fell into the sight of the camera in the first place, it started off as a playful joke between them – he’s so pretty he could be a model – but Fujiko knew someone who knew this other person and well…Last week she texted him that she had gotten him a modelling job for a popular men’s fashion brand.
“Alright Ishikawa, you’re good to go.” The camera man looked up from his tool. The back-stage crew scuttled around to turn off the fans and began taking down the extra cameras and lighting material.
Fujiko approached him with a wide grin on her face, acting as his agent she led him back to his dressing room.
He plopped down onto the chair and Fujiko gently closed the door behind them.
“I wish you could see some of the photos already.” She sat down next to him, taking out her makeup removal supplies. “I talked to the staff, no one’s coming to disturb us.”
Goemon’s cheeks flushed, he cleared his throat. “Really now, I cannot wait until they’re released.”
A cheeky smirk appeared on her face. She took out her smartphone and tapped a few times until she found what she’s looking for. She turned the screen to show him. His eyes widened, it was one of the first photos from the shoot, a shot of him with his head in a profile view, the curve of his jawline was outlined with the harsh lighting.
“I never knew you were this photogenic.”
He hummed in agreement, but he knew nothing about photography or ‘photogenic-ness’, they all without fail laughed at Goemon’s ‘serial killer smile’ when he would try to smile in photos. But they moved on, Fujiko settled her phone down and got to work removing Goemon’s makeup. Bottles of products sat on the table with brands in various languages. Goemon’s hardly sure what they do, but they reminded him of the equipment he used to polish and maintain Zantetsuken. She gently scrubbed it off, the foundation and light contour came off on a few of the makeup removal pads.
“Close.” She spoke. He placed his hands on his knees, closing his eyes like this for whatever reason always made him nervous – especially when she touched his face so gently. “Trust me, I didn’t let anyone come in here.”
Good. He thought to himself. Zantetsuken sits in its sheath in the closet with his kimono, having to part with it for most of the day was a lot like walking around naked. He’s anxious to have it by his hip again - hopefully, the makeup came off smoothly. Fujiko pulled the makeup pad across his eyelid; she whistles after a moment. He remembered having to sit still for a while as a fair amount of subtle, blended through makeup around his eyes.
“Did it…come off?” Goemon asks tentatively, he doesn’t want to seem impatient even though he is. He looks at her with a half-lidded stare from the eyelid that’s clean.
She was surprisingly amused at his haste. “Can’t you just wait a little longer?”
He smiles softly back, “Sorry.” After another minute or so she tells him that she’s done, and he opens his eyes fully to her beautiful face. With or without makeup, Fujiko Mine is the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. No other as her grace, style, or her personality that can get trifling at times but…he is weak for her, and through enough coaxing Goemon is always able to forgive her and willing to consider her as a comrade again and again. Women were his weakness, for a long time an unknowable enigma, but Fujiko is the only woman he needs.
“The real thing is even better.” Fujiko’s long fingers gently caressed the side of his face, running along his jawline.
“Fujiko…” He murmured. He just liked to say her name but they both knew the implicit meaning of it.
She leaned in and captured his lips in a soft kiss, Goemon caressed her cheek and pushed some of her long fluffy brown hair out of the way. He kissed her back, and her arms slid over his shoulders and around his neck. It always got heated with them quickly. He loved the way she felt next to him, and he’s become so shameless in going about it. A weaker Goemon would have fainted at the idea of kissing someone in public, but the threat of losing her, what they have, forced him out of his comfort zone and Goemon can attest that he’d never want to go back there anyway. . At least in his opinion, she was just as crazy as he was, and never expected a man like him to shape up in an extraordinary way, their unorthodox lifestyles were compatible because of how they existed beyond the scope of an ordinary life for most. A man like him can never be good, but she didn’t care about that, and she showed it by undoing the second and third buttons of his provided shirt.
Her tongue licked his lips confidently, Goemon opened his mouth for her. They shared spit as their tongues intertwined, he gave her a pleased whine. His hot breath coated her lips. Goemon let his hands roam her body, pressed down on her back, and pulled her closer to him. Fujiko grinned into their next kiss, their mouths already became sticky from their spit and her lipstick. He never worried when he’s with her, she had an assured air around her that everything will be all right one way or another, it made him not think twice at times, but sharing their lips like this in his dressing room felt like the right thing to do. When she just has to be away from him, she never truly is as she always lingers in his thoughts, intoxicating him so he becomes more poisoned every time he sees her. He missed the smell of her perfume, its sweet and floral scent, the feeling of her lips against his, their tongues clashing together as her lipstick smeared across his own lips.
“...Fujiko.” He murmured again, it's like a drug to say her name, he loves the way it sounds because it belonged to her. Her hands ran through his hair, fingers curled around some of his long black locks as Goemon leaned deeper into her — as if he could. A feverish moan came out of him, Fujiko Oh Fujiko, you work him up so! His lips moved away and began kissing underneath her jaw but then she pulled away.
“Why don’t we take this somewhere else?” She stroked his hair as if she’s apologising to it for pulling it. Fujiko took out her lipstick and started to reapply it, she tossed the box of makeup wipes to him.
Goemon felt the blush form on his cheeks, “Yes. I’m inclined to agree.” he said with a playful smirk.