"You did what?" Taiyo asked, eyes getting very wide. Behind Yabu's shoulder, Hikaru was trying to make his face very sad and serious, but hadn't quite come down from his solo yet and was bouncing on the balls of his feet, splashing more of his water bottle onto himself than he was managing to actually drink.

"It's not a big deal," Yabu shrugged, pulling his own water bottle away from his mouth and examining Taiyo's face closer. "It got a laugh, you know? It was only Kame-kun."

"Noooo," Taiyo's expression actually got more concerned. "Maybe it's only Nakamaru-kun, or it's only Koyama-kun, but it's definitely not 'only Kame-kun.' That's Kamenashi-senpai! And you took his microphone!"

"You're being melodramatic," Yabu insisted. He turned to find their other bandmate slumped in a nearby chair. "Shoon, don't you think so?"

"Huh?" Shoon's gaze took a second to focus, and he chewed on his lower lip for a second, which was rather puffy, and ran a hand through his hair, which was spiked up about twice as big as it should have been after a performance. "Well…Jin says that Kamenashi would sell his grandmother for 25 seconds worth of MC."

Yabu barely had time to frown harder before Hikaru was yanking hard on the bottom of Yabu's vest, and Yabu turned to find Kamenashi standing right behind him, arms crossed and with a thin smile. Hikaru and Taiyo took a step backwards, Hikaru shoving Yabu in front of them about as subtlety as Masumoto-senpai's eyebrows.

"Yabu-kun?" Kamenashi purred, and a shiver ran down Yabu's spine. "Can I speak to you a minute?"

"Sure…" Yabu glanced back at his bandmates for a moment, Taiyo and Hikaru clutching at each other and Shoon waving goodbye with a knowing smirk, and then Kamenashi's hand tightened on his wrist and yanked him away.

They stopped behind a rack of costumes, the mountain of flammable material muffling the backstage noise a little and giving a thin veneer of privacy. Yabu's back was to the wall, the painted cinderblock cold against his bare shoulders.

He cleared his throat. "About the microphone…"

"You've gotten tall lately," Kamenashi interrupted. He was a half-step too close for it to be casual, and he reached up to flick a piece of Yabu's hair out of his face with fingers that were anything but. "You've gotten a new stylist."

"They're changing our image," Yabu answered, but something in Kamenashi's smirk made him pull back his shoulders and say, "We're not fourteen anymore."

"So I've noticed." Kamenashi's hands were suddenly pressed flat against the wall on either side of Yabu's face, his face much closer. Yabu swallowed and tried not to let his breath catch. "You've been doing a lot of projects lately, as well. Getting your voice out there? Taking some risks?"

"Shoon says there's not much point if you don't," Yabu answered, gaining confidence as his voice stayed steady and he didn't pull his eyes away from Kamenashi's probing gaze.

"Shoon's over-familiar with Jin," Kamenashi cut him off, his snort ruffling Yabu's bangs. "Why don't you ask him where that's got him?"

Yabu didn't know whether Kamenashi meant Jin or Shoon, but he did know a rhetorical question when he heard one and kept his mouth shut.

"The thing about risks," Kamenashi continued after a second, "is that there are ones that pay off and ones that don't. A smart little junior like you ought to be able to tell the difference, don't you think?"

"Taking your mic isn't going to, is it?" Yabu asked, keeping his shoulders pulled back and figuring that if being bold had got him into this, maybe it'd get him back out.

"Oh, I can see why Johnny likes you." Kame chuckled, and that sound made the hair on the back of Yabu's neck rise even more than his glare had. "Let's consider that, shall we? It was unscripted, which as a rule is unencouraged in the corporation, but you did get a good response from the audience, and it's likely it will make it into the aired version of the show. You played off your reputation as a brat and got everyone's attention on your face for a few moments, which is more than most juniors can say after an SC filming. You thought about all that, didn’t you?"

"Of course," Yabu said, because he had. He'd thought about everything except…

"But you forgot who the guest MC was tonight." It wasn't a question and Kamenashi's smile got even thinner and sharper. "You heard Shoon say that I'd sell my grandmother for 25 seconds of MC?"

Yabu nodded, and Kamenashi leaned even closer, his cheek brushing along Yabu's.

"It's not true," he said, his breath warm over Yabu's ear, and Yabu fought not to shiver so obviously. "I'd do it for ten." Yabu's breath caught, loud and no way Kamenashi could have missed it. "So the question is, what can you offer me that my grandmother couldn't?"

Even if Yabu hadn't been pretty sure of the answer the minute Kamenashi pushed him up against the wall, he certainly would have gathered it from the way Kamenashi's hands were suddenly curving tight against his ass, hot even through the slick fabric of Yabu's costume. He tugged Yabu forward, getting a knee in between Yabu's thighs.

"Oh, come on," Kamenashi said when Yabu turned his face away, cheeks hot, "it's a little late to be playing innocent, don't you think? And this certainly doesn't feel innocent to me."

Yabu jerked when Kamenashi's hand snaked in between them and palmed the crotch of Yabu's pants, the heel of his hand pressing against Yabu's half-erection. He let go to grab Yabu's chin and turn his face forward again.

"You know how it is on stage," Yabu said, voice low, and letting his hair fall into his face so that he still didn't have to look at Kamenashi. Thank god for layers.

"Then you should know how it is backstage too," Kamenashi purred, and then kissed Yabu, lips firm and demanding, pushing Yabu's head back until it thumped against the cinderblocks. He still had one hand on Yabu's ass, and he used it to push Yabu further up onto his thigh, until Yabu was gasping and rubbing against him without quite meaning to.

He grabbed Kamenashi's shirt for support when Kamenashi leaned back suddenly, eyes glittering and predatory. Then he dropped suddenly to his knees, Yabu losing his balance and falling back against the wall with a little 'oof!' and feeling the slight scrape of the cinderblock against his shoulders.

"Hey," Yabu protested when Kamenashi made short work of his fly and shoved Yabu's pants out of the way, "Kamenashi-senpai!"

"Oh, what happened to Kame-kun?" Kamenashi inquired, voice smooth just like the drag of his lips over the head of Yabu's cock, and then he swallowed Yabu's cock in earnest and Yabu tilted his head back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut and tried not to think about the low hum of conversations all around them, how at any moment somebody might actually come looking for their costume.

His eyes flew back open when Kamenashi's fingers slid back from where they had been teasing his balls to pressing against the crease of his ass. He looked down, pulse hammering in his throat, to find Kamenashi watching him, mouth still on Yabu's cock.

As Yabu watched, Kamenashi pulled back from Yabu's cock and brought his hand up to suck his first two fingers very deliberately into his mouth. Yabu's breath caught as he realized exactly where this was going, but he couldn't quite seem to squeeze any words out of his throat.

"Just relax," Kamenashi advised, then replaced his mouth and his hand, and Yabu bit down hard on his lower lip when Kamenashi started working the first finger on, cold with spit for a split-second before Yabu's body warmed it. When he got the second in, Kamenashi let Yabu's cock slip back out of his mouth to chuckle, "Doesn't exactly feel like I'm the first one to this party."

"Don't," Yabu tried to protest, fingers flexing against the cinderblock because he knew better than to destroy Kamenashi's styled hair, but then Kamenashi swallowed Yabu to the base in one smooth flex of his mouth and curled his fingers just so, and Yabu gritted his teeth so that his moan only came out as a strangled whine while he came.

He wasn't surprised exactly when Kamenashi stood, undid his own jeans, spit Yabu's come into his palm, and slicked his own cock with it. Yabu didn't even try to keep from staring; Kamenashi's cock was long and thin, and looked better covered in streaks of Yabu's come than it had any business doing.

"No crying?" Kamenashi asked lightly as he hooked both hands under Yabu's thighs and lifted him, Yabu's back pressed against the wall to take most of the weight. "No protests?"

"Maybe just some begging," Yabu countered, wrapping his legs around Kamenashi's waist and pressing down with his weight, taking deep breaths as Kamenashi's head pushed into him.

It still burned, and Yabu shoved aside thoughts of what it might feel like if he were unwilling, just kept breathing until the backs of his thighs were resting on Kamenashi's, Kamenashi's hands tight on Yabu's hips, not moving him anywhere yet, just digging into the skin.

"Come on," Yabu urged, rocking himself a little, as much as he could manage given his precarious balance. He wasn't exactly ready yet, but he could take it.

"That innocence really is all an act, isn't it?" Kamenashi asked, voice rising in pitch as he got his first shallow thrust in, adjusted his grip a little.

"I don't put much faith in the longevity of come as a lubricant," Yabu panted in between hitched breaths. Kamenashi laughed, low and dark, and Yabu wrapped arms around Kamenashi's neck for balance.

"You are a clever one," Kamenashi murmured into Yabu's ear. "I'll see what I can do for you then."

True to his word, Kamenashi's strokes sped up, short and focused, making Yabu's head spin and his hands clutch tighter at Kamenashi's back. He helped out as best he could, squeezing down on Kamenashi's cock when he could make his body cooperate, and wondering just what Kamenashi could do to a person if he were aiming his thrusts instead of just trying to get off.

Kamenashi's hands tightened on Yabu's skin, nails digging in just enough for Yabu to feel it, and he arched his neck back to shudder hard. In spite of everything, Yabu found his mouth falling open at the beauty of it, Kamenashi's skin tight and smooth over his cheekbones, the curl of hair across his forehead, the drops of sweat sliding into the hollow of Kamenashi's throat.

"Something to look at?" Kamenashi asked with a raised eyebrow when they were both on their feet again, doing up his fly and watching Yabu sneak glances at him in between trying to navigate the tangled legs of his own pants.

Yabu shivered, remembering the long smooth line of Kamenashi's throat, then shook his head. "Nothing, Kamenashi-senpai."

"Stick with Kame-kun," Kamenashi said, reaching out to ruffle Yabu's hair hard enough to hurt a little, then shoving him back into the wall with casual roughness. "The brat thing suits you better."

"I'll remember that," Yabu said, hiding his grin until Kamenashi was sauntering away, the swing of his hips practiced and eye-catching.

He found the others already changed into their street clothes, and shrugged off their questions as he changed himself, making sure to leave a note to the costuming staff that his clothes needed to be laundered.

"So was it worth it?" Shoon asked much later, after Yabu had filled him in with a few terse sentences. Taiyo and Hikaru were out of earshot, shoving at each other as they fought over who was paying the bill for dinner, Taiyo waving the check far over his head.

"Well," Yabu said, still watching the other two, "the thing about risks is that there are some that pay off and some that don't. Kame-kun said I should ask you and Jin about that."

He turned back to Shoon to find him laughing silently, brown eyes amused and knowing, and Yabu kicked him under the table and laughed too, wondering when Kame-kun would be the guest MC again.