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Slaves of the Agitator	By : LoonyLucifer Category: J-Rock/J-Pop & K-Pop > Pierrot Views: 1669 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Pierrot. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Slaves of the Agitator
- 2-Jun
- 1
- 2
[A/N] Jun’s POV this time. Don’t worry, I’m not finished with Aiji yet, I just needed someone to do the intro.^^ *pats Aiji on the head* Good boy.
I was originally going to post this chapter in two parts, but then I just sorta kept going with it. XPh, Ih, I guess that’s not such a bad thing, but now I’m set way back on this little mental schedule I have floating around in my head. *sigh* I can never seem to stick to it. -_-;;; Ah well. There’s lemony goodness in here, so enjoy. And it’s all worth it for the lemony goodness.

~*~
Translation from: http://centigrade.blandplanet.com/
Fukinshin na Koi - Pierrot
(Indiscreet Love)

“Hiding in the vacuum of a memory abruptly ended
Perhaps I don't want to remember my bad habit.

It's always dusk when it comes. A s A smile unsoiled by anything
tempts me to skillfully erase my guilty conscience.

this is our pure flirtation.

No one can stand in the way of this feeling about to burst forth.
Lalala Lalala
Am I the only one who sees the red string tied to our pinkies ?

Shall we begin our grotesque love from now ?
It's Ok, you can just sleep through it.
If we step out of normality, It'll become easier in a flash.
even if you can't go back again.

No one can stand in the way of this feeling about to snap.
Lalala Lalala
But still am I the only one who sees you screaming in tears.

Shall we begin our grotesque love from now ?
It's OK for you to try to run away.
If you give up, maybe you'll grow to like me.
Even if I am insane.”

Video lists flit through my head as I travel down a familiar stretch of highway. I need a new movie. And I’m looking for an excuse to think about something. The lights from the city seem bright tonight. They single me out and announce my presence to all the other cars carelessly driving down the road, like spotlights. It’s unnerving, but I guess they always do so during this drive. I make it every day, yet I can never stop that feeling. Soon my mind strays from the list and back to the road ahead of me. I come to a red light. I sigh to myself and turn the radio on, as there really isn’t much else to do while I wait. I never enjoy it when I get left behind at a stoplight. Though it doesn’t really matter I guess, I know the way by heart. It might actually be helpful, to stay back a ways. My attention turns back to the radio as I flip through random stations for a while. Talk show, game show, somebody yelling rather off key to a monotonous beat, someone singing in English about water…. Water? That doesn’t make sense. I make a mental note to work on my English. I had set out to get better at it a while ago. At times it can be very uncomfortable to have someone translate fan letters for me. Every once in a while we get some that are rather…….well, “graphic”. Best to save myself, and the unfortunate translator, some embarrassment.

In the midst of channel surfing, I stumble upon one of our own songs. A familiar wave of warmth washes over me, one that I can never seem to get used to. I sit back as all thoughts drain from my head. Listening to his voice….. It stops everything else. Fukinshin na koi, indiscreet love. The way his voice flows through this song….the throbbing beat of our instruments pushing the voice forward….the things my mind wanders to when he sings this song, he’s taunting me. My eyes close for a moment. I wonder what he is really like. Is he the way he portrays himself in this song? So dominating and malicious? I can hardly imagine what he would be like……. I open my eyes in time to see the sleek black car turn a cornar aar ahead of my intersection, the car I’d been following. It’s the car I follow home every day, the reason I must explain to everyone how I‘m going to get groceries or some other item when they ask me why I take a route in the opposite direction of my apartment. He’s who I follow home every day. Suddenly the light changes color and I’m forced to break myself out of the trance his voice has put me into. It’s good that he’s so far ahead of me. He doesn’t know that I follow, and I’d really like to keep it that way. There are many cars here. It’s hard to keep track of which one’s going where, and even hard to find the same one once you’ve glanced the other way.

I stop at the usual corner near his house. Large sidewalk trees adorn the area serving to make my car less visible as I sit here. The first time I did this I was stupid enough to park in front of his apartment. Five minutes later he cam down and asked me what I was doing, obviously having seen me from a window. I remember having a terrible time coming up with something to say. Normally I probably could have thought of a likely excuse right off the top of my head, but with Kirito…… Kirito is different. You just don’t lie to Kirito. You can’t lie to him. Something turns around in your head, and your brain goes haywire as you try to look casually into his all seeing eyes at the same time you flip through excuses in your mind. His stare was what threw me off. He has a way of looking at you that says he knows you inside and out. He knows what’s going on in your head, and it only serves to amuse him. He likes to watch me struggle to tell him differently. But my mind tells me otherwise. I may look flustered quite often, but the only rational part of me left has said, quite forcefully, that he cannot read my thoughts. He only looks like he can.

After five minutes or so of me stumbling over every possible excuse that has time to fly out of my mouth, he leans down through my open window. I shut up in two seconds flat. At first I almost think he’s going to strangle me as he comes closer. His face is expressionless. He reaches out, but across me, to the passenger’s seat and picks something up. Then he straightens once more and says to me, “Jun, why didn’t you just tell me you wanted to return this CD?” I stared at him dumbfounded for at least a minute. I don’t think I quite registered what he said. He’s talking about a CD? I glance at the small package in his hand, and sure enough, there’s our demo recording. He had left it laying around our studio, so I nicked it. I figured it was better me than one of the staff, then we’d never get it back. Now the perfect excuse to be sitting outside his apartment, though maybe not for fifteen minutes, was resting in his hand. He’d spoon-fed me my own white lie. And still, he showed nothing. There was always the very small chance of him being oblivious to my unusual behavior, and I latched onto it with everything I had. I tried to forget that episode as soon as I could. After all, he never called me on it. He never spoke of it to anyone else. He acted as though he didn’t see a thing out of place. And I suppose I felt a little guilty. I owed him for it. So I tried to put it aside as well, though after that I’ve always been extra careful not to casually lie to Kirito.

It took me a while to work up the nerve to come back, but evallyally I did. I got smarter about it, too. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not doing anything devious while I’m here. I don’t harm anything. Once I even helped an elderly couple get a taxi. I still feel guilty though, as I guess it could be termed as ‘stalking’. I laugh to myself as the street lamps flicker on. “I guess”. My own words amuse me. No, I don’t “guess” it’s stalking. It is stalking. The amusement soon fades though. It’s getting darker. I crane my neck to look up at his window. He lives quite a ways up, and I had a hard time figuring out which room was his. I noticed right away that he usually keeps the curtains drawn whenever he’s home. It’s common knowledge in Pierrot of how Kirito enjoys his solitude, but for some reason actually seeing physical evidence of his antisocial nature surprised me. He do ado a pretty good job of hiding it. He’s absolutely never shy around people. I’ve never seen anyone get the upper hand with him. It seems though that that fact somehow only enhances his distant personality. He doesn’t allow anyone to make him look shy.

But I don’t want to think about this anymore. It makes my head spin, and I don’t like analyzing him of all people. I think I tend to take things too seriously. Instead, I allow myself to wonder what he’s doing up there in that tall, concrete fortress above me. I imagine he’s taking a shower. He’d been working up quite a sweat earlier, I of course noticed every droplet running down and under his shirt. I don’t want this perverted side to run away with me, but in the end it always does. Soon I give up and site back in order to gaze up at his window more easily while thoughts of a sweat-covered Kirito flutter through my mind.

*

I must have fallen asleep there. For I wake up extremely disoriented and I suddenly realize that I’m no longer in my car. In fact, I don’t know where I am, so I freeze on the spot. I try to grasp my surroundings as quickly as I can. I’m lying on a well worn couch, with a light blanket draped over my shoulders. My coat is gone, and so are my shoes. My breathing has turned into small hitches, but it begins to slow as my eyes begin to travel around the room. It’s an apartment, Kirito’s apartment to be exact, for there he is sitting in an old worn armchair, much like the couch I’m laying on, directly across from me. His head is cocked to one side just a little and he’s sipping something, most likely coffee, from a mug, one leg resting over the other. He looks at me with an eerily innocent expression, as though this kind of thing happens once a day.

I don’t know what to do. So I stare at him. I wish I could see what he sees. I need desperately to know what’s going through his head, yet he gives me nothing. Is it possible that he considers this a friendly act of kindness, and nothing more, to bring me inside and out of the cold? Maybe. No, it’s not. Kirito isn’t stupid. I would be the one to think something like that, not him. He would know everything right away, like he does now. Which is impossible. But it’s Kirito. By now I’m aware that I’m arguing, rather ineffectively, with myself as he watches me with calm intrigue. I still can’t think of anything to actually do, but suddenly I’m very afraid. He’s going to ask me why I’ve been watching his house all night. He’s going to ask me if I’ve ever done this before…..and I can’t lie to him. I’ve been caught, and now he’ll not only know that I ‘like’ him, but he’ll know that I ‘like’ him as a borderline obsession. He’s never so much as hinted that he might like me in that way at all. Kirito’s not a really touchy-feely type person. In fact, I think the only times I’ve ever gotten that physically close to him were for fan-service purposes. Onstage, in front of millions of people, it’s ironic that in a situation like that, absolutely nothing matters. Pierrot can do anything we want to, so long as somebody’s watching and being entertained. But now there’s no one here but him, and I’m scared out of my mind. I have to face him on my own. I can’t hide behind the fans.

I notice a small change in his demeanor. His head slowly turns upright, back to it’s normal position and he softly sets the mug down on a glass table that I hadn’t noticed was there. Slowly he rises to his feet, not taking his eyes away from mine. Normally I shy away from his eyes, but in my mind this contact means that I’m facing him, even though, pathetically, it’s without words. I’m also still too frozen to do much else. I think the only part of my body I’ve moved since I’ve awoken was my neck. He’s moving towards me now, quickly closing the gap between our chairs. Still no expression. His eyes look cold to me, but probably only because I’m searching so hard for some warmth. He pauses when he reaches me, then sinks down into a crouching position in front of the couch. I watch, and do nothing. I’m afraid. Kirito can actually be a very scary person. Out of all of Pierrot I’ve known him the longest, besides Kohta of course, and every so often I’ve caught glimpses into something within his being that just doesn’t sit quite right with normality. In fact, he’s sometimes down right scared the hell out of me. He’s always so calm, it’s very rare that I can tell when he will let a glimpse of this side show through, but when he does, it’s damn unsettling. I’ve never been on the receiving end of this type of anger, but I’ve seen people who have. They become one big mental wreck. This is what I’m afraid of now. I don’t know what he’s going to do, and even though he’s looking at me now with an expression that almost resembles sympathy, I know this could change in an instant. If I say the wrong thing…. But he’s not asking anything of me. So I stay quiet and pray my luck holds.

“Jun….” he says quietly. My breathing stops. “Sit up, Jun,” his voice is soft, but it’s also commanding. I do so shakily, and he lifts the blanket from around my shoulders. I watch as it falls to the couch. Then he sits up a little and pulls himself up to the couch so that he’s sitting next to me. He’s turned somewhat so that he’s facing me. He moves one of his hands to glide up to my ear, and then down my cheek. My breathing has become staggered again, and my heart is racing. What is he doing……? He shifts his body weight in order to pivot himself closer to me while resting another hand on my leg. I’m still frozen stiff. I can’t tell if he’s testing me or not. If he knows that I’ve been following him home every day, he might be wondering if he can bring something more incriminating than a confession out of me. I will myself to stay still beneath his touches.
He leans in close to my ear and lets the hand on my leg move farther upwards. I make a small noise. I know he can feel my heart beating as fast as it is. He knows………..

“You’re mine now Jun,” he whispers to me. “You came here… Is this what you want?” he asks and he moves his hand still further up my leg. My eyes widen and my hitched breathes turn into open mouthed pants. It doesn’t matter anymore, let him know. I’ll die if I don’t answer him. I’d rather die because of my answer than die from this teasing.

I think I catch him off guard when I take his face in my hands and kiss him rather roughly. I’d never do something like that. I guess when people are under stress, they’ll do just about anything. He knows this. He’s so good at putting people under pressure. It doesn’t take him long to take control of the situation, meeting my kiss with just as much force, and more. It’s bruising, but I can’t seem to get enough of him. I feel like I want to devour him. He pushes me onto my back and grinds me into the couch. All that stress has gotten me so worked up. I almost don’t notice that he’s being particularly rough. In fact, this is probable the roughest make out session I’ve ever been involved with. Though I don’t mind right now. I wanted this so badly……. To feel him on top of me, one leg shoved up between my own, biting down on my neck….rocking back and forth, creating friction with that leg. All this is going so quickly, one minute I’m lying petrified on his couch, dreading accusation while he stares me down, the next I’m writhing under him, trying to get him to shove me harder into the cushions. Even so, it doesn’t seem like that was one minute ago. It seems like it never happened at all. Kirito is here, biting down on my neck, causing it to turn black and blue, with one hand wandering up my shirt and kneading the muscles underneath, they‘ll be k ank and blue by morning as well. That moment is gone, forgotten. He’s drowned it in kisses and bite marks. I love him for it. He’s saved me. He’s saved me from having to answer to him, saved me from punishment. I owe him so much. I don’t however, realize that the only thing he’s saving me from is himself and this could potentially be a bad idea. My mind is too far gone for such rational thoughts. It has been for quite a while.

Absolute warmth bubbles up from deep inside of me as he tears my shirt downward, exposing my chest so that he can drag his teeth across it. I want to please him more than anything else in the world. I’ve wished for this every moment as I followed him home and watched him climb up the stairs to his fortress. I wished he could be leading me along with him, taking me home, and into his bed. And now I’m here, he’s pulling me back to reality as he quickly undoes our pants. I’m glad he had taken my shoes off earlier. I don’t think I can wait much longer. I’m already hard from his gyrating foreplay. Once we’re unclothed, he lays back on top of me again and begins rubbing himself back and forth against me. My God, he’s the most beautiful thing in the world to me. His pale cream colored skin looks endless before me, and his hair, that soft jet black hair. I run my hands through it and tangle them inside of it. We’re both sweating again. For some reason I want to taste the salty fluid as it runs down his face. I pull myself up a bit and run my tongue through it. Hmm…..I recall his phrase for Kohta‘s sweat. Kirito-sauce. Delicious.

Then for a moment he’s gentle. He slows his movements and nuzzles his nose against that soft spot between my neck and the back of my ear. It’s almost a ticklish sensation and it causes me to shiver. I can feel him smirk into my neck.

His hands leave my face and neck and travel slowly down my body. My breath hitches when one of them reaches my groin. I moan loudly as he strokes it up and down, squeezing slightly. He’s moving slowly. Then he pulls himself away. For an instant a wave of fear runs through me. Where was he going? He’s not leaving is he? I crane my neck up from my position, as I had moments before let it hang off the side of the couch in ecstasy. He’s still there. No, he wouldn’t leave me. Kirito…….he’d never leave me.

I want to reach out to him as he sits up and spreads my legs apart. Now he’s leaning over me again, ready to enter. Those same eyes watch at me as they always have. He kisses me roughly again, and I don’t even think of lubrication until he enters me in one painful thrust. My body jerks involuntarily and I scream into the kiss, but he doesn’t let go. He wraps one strong arm around my torso and uses the other to hold my head in place by means of my hair, and then he tightens his grip. He wait’s a few seconds until I’m done silently screaming, then begins to move, never letting go of my arms or head. It hurts like hell. Like he’s ripping me apart. He’s thrusting in long languid strokes at first, but he soon starts to pick up the pace. I try to move, but he’s holding me firmly in place. My moans turn into screams, then back into moans, all the while being somewhat muted by his mouth. Every once in a while he’ll hit a place inside of me that makes me see stars. I desperately search for this place again, in hopes of drowning out the pain.

He takes his mouth away from mine for a moment, panting heavily. His eyes are half closed, but they’re as intense as ever, and they’re staring into mine. My screams become softer though still perceptible, as though his gaze was pulling some trick on my mind to take away the pain. It’s all in my head, and my head can do that I guess. He starts moving faster, and harder as well. His breathing comes in pants and groans, and now he’s hitting that spot inside me straight on, and I can’t control my voice anymore. I’m screaming again, only this time it’s not from the pain. I don’t know if he realizes it, but I hope he does. I don’t want him to think he’s hurting me. God, I want to please him so much. I try to use what little control I have left to morph my voice into something that sounds as if it was produced by pleasure.

“You sound….uhn…so…beautiful Jun…..” he’s panting, and his words don’t come out quite right. That was something he’s always told me, from the first time I had known him. My voice is higher but softer than his, and this one compliment has always made me feel amazing. It was a simple compliment, and he never used it for flattery, only as if he was pointing out a fact. Nevertheless, I was walking on air. “Scream for me Jun……” he whispers into my ear, as he bites down on it. So I scream.

“KIRITO!!!!!!” I’m screaming my heart out as I come. My voice and movements send him over the edge as well. We stay frozen that way for a moment, letting the waves of pleasure wash through and through, until they subside, then he collapses on top of me, not bothering to pull out. I wrap my arms around him and he allows it. We stay that way for a long time, until the rhythm of his breathing forces me into slumber.

~*~
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Slaves of the Agitator