Confessions

By J Luc Pitard

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really! Well, a small (but growing) manga collection, but certainly not any of the Skip Beat! characters found herein.

This is a lemon flavored fic, trust me. But it's by me and I just can't write anything short!! Inspired by a request to do a lemon scene in my other Skip Beat! story where I felt it wouldn't be appropriate. Here? Probably not 100%, but humor me.

Scene 3

Setting: int. upscale apartment living room, furnished in a modern style

Establishing shot: full shot of a tall man and a petite woman embracing, silhouetted by the natural light from a wall of windows.

Looking up into Ren Tsuruga's dark eyes this close, she could watch them dilate and narrow. Kyouko wondered how long she would have left on this mortal plane. Clearly this Demon Lord would scald her to death with hate rays for attempting to strip him in his own living room! Not that she left this world with many regrets. Sure, she hadn't gotten revenge on Shoutaru Fuwa yet, but somehow being held in these arms made her shortened life a bit more palatable. Was this another power of his? The warmth of his hand, moving in slow circles on her lower back, spread a sensual calmness wherever he touched. Ren seemed to overwhelm all of her senses at once. His strained breathing was the only sound she could hear over her own. The scent of some expensive soap mixed with orange juice on the exposed skin right in front of her and there was another tang there as well- alcohol? She wanted desperately to taste it and clamped her jaws tight at the thought of being that stupid. Look what just touching him had done!

Peevishly she pulled at her restrained hand. His grip loosened slightly, but didn't let go. Her fingers reached for the the fabric just inches away. Was she getting drunk from being so close to him? This would be the perfect virgin sacrifice if he kept this up. Some foreign godling sent down to find a girl to devour, right?

As if in answer, he leaned toward her, closer and closer. Kyouko held her breath, staring at death as it descended. A tiny whimper crawled out of her throat, pulled by a dying hate demon. Like a mouse hypnotized by a beautiful cobra, she waited for him to strike. And waited. His forehead touched hers and he stopped, staring at her through lowered lashes. His eyes seemed to be searching hers for something.

Kyouko felt the warmth of his breath across the bridge of her nose. Oranges. The hand on her back snaked possessively up her spine until his hand cradled the back of her head, but he again he stopped. She'd never seen his face this close before, not even in a magazine. If a photographer could capture this moment, she was sure he could sell anything with it. He was deadly sexy. Kyouko knew she was dealing with the same Emperor of the Night she'd met in his kitchen months before. Of course, then he'd been acting as Katsuki and she'd been portraying Mizuki, the girl Katsuki loved. She'd fumbled his come on and Ren ended up laughing at her in an uncontrolled and out of character way... And now? Was this seduction act his way of getting ready for the hush-hush role he'd started? Of course he couldn't have told her anything since LME was keeping such a tight wrap on everything to do with the show.

“Who?” Her voice came out deeper than normal, more like a throaty whisper than spoken word, sounding strange. Kyouko swallowed thickly; she licked her lips and tried again. “Who are you, Mr. Tsuruga?”

Her voice, hearing the evidence that she wasn't unaffected Ren almost pushed on, almost took the kiss he'd been wanting from her for so long. That was only until the meaning of her words began to sink in. Her body was so warm against his, her lips so tempting, and yet... Who are you? How much had she already guessed? How did this woman know how to read him so well?

“Kyouko,” he sighed. Cheesy lines ran through his head. With any other woman this moment would've led straight to his king sized bed in the other room. Instead he forced himself to push her away.

Somehow he'd have to tell her the truth. She'd come here to confess to him but didn't know who or what he truly was. If he was lucky, he wouldn't have to turn her down at all, she'd run away herself. His heart sank at the thought, but he played it off with a typical 'Ren Tsuruga' chuckle. “I can take my shirt of myself, Ms. Mogami.”

Kyouko's hand had been released as he stepped away, but the lack of contact with him hit her just then. “Oh.” Her face reddened from her ears all the way down to her toes. The danger of the moment dissipated, leaving her heart pounding for no reason at all. “Oh,” she repeated as he walked away, back toward what she knew to be his bedroom. There was a large bathroom off of the master bedroom and she imagined he'd toss the sweater into the wicker hamper she'd seen in there and it would be too late by the time he got it dry cleaned. She lifted her head to tell him that, but the sight of him pausing at the bedroom door, shirtless, all wiry muscles and broad shoulders. Her mouth was suddenly unable to form coherent words. When he turned his head to look at her over his shoulders, she was in imminent danger of swooning. This look had been photographed before, she'd seen it in many of the magazines left here and there at her work, but it was much more impressive in real life. Belatedly she realized he was asking her something. “Wh- what?” she croaked.

“Lunch? How long do you think it will take?” Ren was sure she was off in some fantasy again, but he repeated himself yet again. “To prepare? I said I had something to show you but could you wait and maybe we could eat after?” If you're willing to stay afterwards, thought to himself. Then he opened his mouth and at the same time they both said, “Give me about thirty minutes?”

At her shy smile as she apologized for speaking over him, he regretted what he was going to do and wished he could stay in this moment forever just gazing at her in his home. Instead he shook his head telling her, “I have to make a call.”

Confusion reigned in her mind as soon as he closed the door. Kyouko stood there. Was he going to kill her or kiss her just then? She really had to ask him about his feelings for her, but now it was too embarrassing; he would think she was taken in by his acting again!

She grumbled to herself as she pulled out the vegetables and set them in the sink to soak. White rice was next since she'd need to wash it and start the water boiling. Once she was busy, her mind stopped tormenting her. She looked up at the high cabinet with the cooking pots, but Ren had nicely set out a variety of cookware on the counter next to the stove. She laughed as she imagined herself like Thumbelina or like Jack in the Giant's house.

The doorbell rang as she was happily tearing lettuce. Kyouko waited a moment since this wasn't her home, but once she heard the sound of water running from Ren's room, she decided she might as well see who it was. Wiping her hands on her apron, she took on the ingrained attitude of a worker at the Fuwa family's Kyoto inn. Bowing, she opened the front door. “Welcome. How may I help you?”

On the other side stood a woman no taller than herself, despite knee high platform boots. A miniskirt and camisole with a black leather jacket over top belied her age, which Kyouko guessed to be in her early thirties. She had her dyed blond hair pulled back so a cascade of curls fell from the crown of her head down to her shoulders. Her make up was noticeable, but not caked on. 'Flashy' was one word that came to Kyouko's mind. As they stood facing each other, her face fell from a blinding beam of happiness to a sort of befuddled wariness. “Who are you?”

She realized it had been a very bad idea, coming to his door. She should've shouted for Ren and stayed in the kitchen. “Um, I'm sorry, Mr. Tsuruga isn't available right now,” she said in her best servant voice. At least it stopped the woman from checking the door number repeatably as she had been doing. “Perhaps I can tell him you came by?”

“Ren, dear friend that he is, called me over,” the woman said with a girlish giggle. “Maybe I got here faster than he expected, but I don't think he'd be happy if I just left. Is he in or should I wait for him?” She picked up a shiny metal case and started to walk through the door before Kyouko could throw her body in front of her.

“Stop!!” she shouted as she tried belatedly to block the way. “He's in the shower!”

“Honey,” the woman said, her eyes narrowing. “He's getting ready for me and I am going in there!”

Kyouko wasn't used to feeling like a bodyguard, especially for a large man like Ren, but if she was anything, it was tenacious. Grabbing the woman by the arm she kept her from going past the kitchen. Luckily, she heard a door open and the large man in question came around the corner. Both women stopped to stare at the half dressed adonis toweling off his hair. Light glinted off the drops of water on his naked chest. His gentlemanly smile was blinding.

“Jelly!” he said. “Good of you to come with such short notice. We can work in here.” He pointed to the hallway behind him, oblivious to the glare the flashy woman gave Kyouko. She shook her arm free and fixed her beaming smile on Ren.

“Let's get going then!” she chirped and trotted off, pulling Ren along by the arm. He looked sheepish, but didn't have time to say anything to his other guest before disappearing into his room.

Kyouko stood with her jaw on the floor. Was this what he wanted to show her?! A woman going into his bedroom? Granted, she was cute, but why had he called that girl and thrown it in her face? She wanted to slip in and see what was going on, but discretion was the better part of valor and all. Mr. Tsuruga always taught her lessons, she reasoned, and perhaps he was teaching her one right now. The vulgarity of man? That he could call a cuter girl to kiss if that was what he wanted?

She debated leaving versus finishing her task. Cooking. She was good at cooking if nothing else. She blinked away tears she didn't understand. I will finish cooking and then leave. They can eat then, once they've worked up an appetite. She wasn't entirely pure, despite never having never been on a date. You couldn't be totally innocent if you worked in a hotel, no matter how high class. She knew what men did with women who probably were not their wives!

One day, for example, you're asked to bring a lunch into a room when there's no one else free and you politely knock. When an older gentleman opens the door naked, you don't react to it. You avert your gaze and place the tray on the first surface you can and you get out. That you happen to see the man return to the bed and the very naked, very young woman moans as he thrusts into her before you hurriedly close the door, you decide it's probably better this way since you don't really have parents to ask those questions of, nor girlfriends to gossip about it with. Kyouko squeezed her eyes shut, trying hard not to picture the two people in the other room in the place of such unknown guests.

As the sauces simmered, the fish poached and the rice finished boiling, she heard the bedroom door open again. The woman- “Jelly” Kyouko reminded herself- stopped by the kitchen doorway. One heel tapped impatiently as she waited for Kyouko to stand up from in front of the oven and acknowledge her. She did so, standing behind the kitchen island as rigidly as any mannequin. “Lunch is almost ready,” she finally managed. “Please tell Mr. Tsuruga that dessert is in the refrigerator. I'll be on my way.”

A muscle in Jelly Wood's jaw tightened and she snapped her gum before she said, “There's no way I'd stay!” To the obvious surprise on Kyouko's face, she went on, “I don't agree with what he's doing, but I'm always willing to help him because he's so beautiful.” She scrutinized Kyouko, then winked. “I only ever deal with beautiful people.” With a flick of her wrist, she threw a piece of paper onto the counter in front of Kyouko. “My card. If you ever need me, call.” With that, she picked up her case and flounced out.

When would I ever need a call girl? Kyouko shook her head, ignored the paper and finished getting the dishes prepared mechanically. There was a little used western dining room and she set it for one, snorting softly to herself as she did.

Ren was understandably nervous as he stepped out of his room, now dressed in a loose, button down silk shirt and his slacks. He walked over to the living room windows, looking out at the untroubled world. This would irrevocably change things. She'd accept him or she wouldn't, but either way there would be one more person in Japan who knew his secrets. Sure, he'd as good as told the chicken man several of them, most importantly his feelings for Kyouko, but there was a feeling of trust in that anonymous relationship. That nothing had been revealed to the press meant that the actor in the suit also appreciated their strange friendship.

Kyouko, however. Once she found out about him, she could sell his secrets to get ahead in the business if she wanted but even worse, she held his heart to break at her whim. If he thought any longer, he'd never let himself go through with this. The sun was slanting in through the picture windows and Ren reached for the cord to close the curtains just as Kyouko walked into the room.

Sunlight glistened off of brilliantly blond hair as the curtains billowed like wings behind-- “Corn!”

The boy-- No, the fairy prince whose memory she held so dear stood in front of her for the first time since she was a little girl. Kyouko stepped forward, her hand outstretched to him as he turned from the light.