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Yamada Ryosuke & Chinen Yuri

Relationship

Yamada x Chinen

Ship Name

Yamachii
Yamachine

Type

Chaptered Story

Genre

Angst, Fluffy, AU, AOB, Alpha/Omega

Rating

R (Non-explicit) at the start, but the Epilogue will likely be NC-17

Warnings

MxM Relationship, Alpha/Omega Traits, AU

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Synopsis

His heart clenched in his chest when Yuri’s hands moved, grabbing onto his shirt like he was afraid he was going to move away, desperation flowing in the connection between them, his body shaking in his arms as he spoke softly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it…I just…I don’t really know why I did…I’m…I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, Yuri, honestly, I wasn’t even going to take it from you, I just…I was surprised is all, if you wanted one, I could get you one, you know?”

“No, it’s not that, though…it’s not…”

Yuri pushed into Ryosuke further, almost as if he were trying to hide from him as he spoke, “I don’t want one of my own.”

“But…you have…mine…”

“Yes.”

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What we know so far: (refer to this section at the start of each chapter for recaps of the chapter before)

Our Members–

Ryosuke:
-struggles with the innate desire to ‘possess’ Yuri
-is in fact, a somewhat ‘possessive’ freak lol (not in an abusive way to be clear)

Yuri:
-appreciated Ryosuke running off the other Alpha

ABO–

Alphas:
-can recognize other Alphas once their trait has been activated
-stink worse that anything to other Alphas

Omegas:
-smell GREAT to Alphas

Betas:
-smell good to Alphas

Super-Hybrids:
-have no desire for any other Alpha/Omega apart from the one gifted to them in their soul-bond
-Omega Super-Hybrids are subject to their scent being ‘tainted’ by other ABO’s

Daiki rushed into the room heading for the shower–the air stirring around them as he brushed past them carrying a horrible strong, pungent smell into the room.

Ryosuke who had been standing at the mirror blinked, jerking his head back at the odor.

“Sorry, I know the smell is horrible,” Daiki rushing to speak, waving his hands, causing Ryosuke to lift his hand to cover his nose.

“What is that!?“

Daiki paused, frowning, “Listen, just look out for Kei.“

“Hmm?” Ryosuke was unsure of what he was referring to.

“The smell, he’s spraying everyone with it–it’s one of those ‘create your own scent’ perfumes he made at some shop downtown–I don’t even know how they let him buy it…it’s the most disgusting smell I’ve ever smelled in my life!“

“It’s like the smell of sulfer from the burning pits of hell,” Ryosuke commented as he pulled his hoodie on.

Daiki stared at him, “You feel…strongly about that obviously,” he laughed then, “I mean…it’s nasty I think…but…it’s not that bad?“

“It is,” Ryosuke grimaced, needing to get out of that room, away from that smell, “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever smelled.“

Daiki pulled his arm up to smell the spot where Kei had sprayed him, shrugging, “I mean, I don’t like it… but…but it’s not that bad…“

“It is the WORST SMELL IN THE WORLD!” Keito bellowed, storming through the doorway, shoving Daiki out of the way so he could walk directly into the shower he had been going into without even removing his clothes, the door slamming loudly as he raged about the perfume Kei had sprayed him with.

Ryosuke and Daiki both stood with their mouths open staring at the door that Keito had disappeared behind, shocked, because Keito never freaked out about anything or ever got worked up, but he definitely was now.

“I swear to all things good and holy I am going to kill him if he comes near me with that cursed scent again!“

Ryosuke’s eyebrow raised, glad he wasn’t the only one who thought that the perfume had been procured directly from the inner circle of hell—and equally amused that Keito was now throwing his clothes over the top of the door, screeching, “I’ll have to burn all of those! That smell will never come out!“

Daiki was still standing where he’d been shoved, dumbfounded by all of the events that were happening, slapping away the pants that flew over the door, his eyes catching Hikaru’s when he opened the stall door next to Keito’s, stepping out with a towel wrapped around his waist, eyes filled with amusement.

“I think there’s a gas leak or something and everyone’s slowly being poisoned or something–Yama-chan and Chinen are sniffing each other all the time like…weird ass freaks, not gonna lie and then here’s Keito…” he banged the door where Keito was, laughing when he just got louder with his ranting, “…who is clearly losing his mind…and you…“

Hikaru leaned close to Daiki, sniffing him gingerly, “You smell like that assinine perfume, and something else, something…foul.“

“I–I–I most certainly do not!” Daiki screeched, shoving Hikaru, “I just smell like that perfume Kei is spraying, nothing else…“

“No,” Hikaru frowned, “There’s something else and it’s bad…really bad.“

“Are you using a new laundry detergent?” Ryosuke asked absently.

“Or hair product, it could be hairspray maybe? Anything like that?” Hikaru asked quickly.

“What about skincare products?” Ryosuke tilted his head, “Any new products like that?”

“No! I mean, I don’t even need anything for that, and whatever you think—frankly, this is all your fault,” Daiki snipped at Hikaru, who seemed surprised, “Kei was so proud of the malodorous concoction he created specifically because he said it smelled like you!”

“Huh,” Hikaru looked mildly amused, slightly confused, and then shrugged, “I won’t be able to smell my own scent—Omega’s can’t—not equipped with the proper glands…but…damn…I’m sorry if that’s what I actually smell like.”

Ryosuke and Daiki both stared at him, his brows raising as he shrugged, “Do I really stink?”

Ryosuke hummed softly, “You do smell bad, different than you did before your mark, now…Kei’s scent has merged your fragrance with his, which creates something that other Alphas will recognize immediately and tell them who the Omega is bonded to. It is pretty bad, how gross the smell can be, because like…Kei reeks to high heaven, and now you do just on a weird messier level.”

“But…” Hikaru looked to be doing his best to piece this together, “Then how does he even stand to be around me if I smell that badly?”

“You don’t smell bad to him, not at all,” Ryosuke reassured him, “In fact, with your Alpha you will smell amazingly good—if you don’t smell good, I can’t imagine they’d even show interest in you.”

“Huh,” Hikaru nodded in understanding.

A beat happened, and it was like Ryosuke could see the wheels in Hikaru’s head turning, wanting to slap him for going there, because he knew he’d pieced together the scent factors with the fact that Yuri’s fragrance had not changed.

“Ohhh, hoohooohhooo,” Hikaru was laughing like he’d just thought of the funniest thing in the world, wagging his eyebrows up and down, “I know the answer to my question now…”

Ryosuke didn’t like the change in his tone, not a bit, his eyes narrowing, “What do you mean?”

“If you two were…you know…” He raised and lowered his eyebrows for good measure.

Ryosuke wanted to punch him because it wasn’t like he didn’t think about it or care about it and to just point it out this way without an explanation was rude and obnoxious but there really was nothing he could do.

“Do what…what?” Daiki asked, looking back and forth between the two.

“Shut up,” Ryosuke snapped, turning to leave.

“I’m just saying, Yuri smells really nicely these days, doesn’t he?” Hikaru called after him.

“What…what does that mean? What were they doing?” Daiki was so confused, throwing his hands up in the air, looking between the two, “Frankly, I am glad to be a Beta, all of this is entirely too complicated.”





Ryosuke was passing by Yuri’s room, glancing to the side as he passed the open door, then backing up to look into the room, tilting his head in confusion, because…is that?

He walked into the room, “Yuri?”

He glanced around, realizing Yuri wasn’t there, walking slowly over to the bed, eyes wide as he ran his fingers across the hoodie that was draped on top of his pillow.

My Fullmetal Alchemist hoodie….what…what in the world is it doing in here?

“Oh! I didn’t know you whe—”

Ryosuke jumped, jerking around to face Yuri who had just walked into the room, his words fading as his eyes moved to land on the hoodie covered pillow that Ryosuke was currently touching.

“I…I didn’t…” Yuri’s hands lifted, as he began to wring them together in nervousness, “I mean, it’s not that I meant to…I just…and then…”

“Yuri,” Ryosuke moved slowly, approaching him cautiously, not caring about the hoodie so much as he was worried about Yuri, “What’s…what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Yuri’s voice cracked as he rushed past Ryosuke to the bed, grabbing the hoodie off of the pillow and then holding it out to him, “I don’t know, okay…just…here, take it, I’m sorry, I just…please…just take it.”

Ryosuke was so confused, his emotions were all over the place and all he wanted to do was hug Yuri.

He just needed to touch him.

To help him.

To heal him.

So, he did.

He moved in a flash over to him, grabbing him into a hug before he could stop him or tell him why he shouldn’t or dart away or any number of possible scenarios that would have been something Yuri would certainly do in his frustration.

He partly expected him to push him away, sighing, his eyes fluttering closed in contentment when he felt him nestle into his embrace instead of drawing away. His hand lifted to press into his hair, holding his head there against him, his face buried into the hoodie he’d drawn up between them, and then Ryosuke froze, because Yuri inhaled.

Not just a normal breath, but a deep, long inhale, and his body became even softer within his arms.

Ryosuke began to tremble, his arms squeezing Yuri even tighter as he turned his head, pressing his nose against his hair and slowly inhaling, his skin feeling like it was on fire, every nerve ending tingling to life, and for a moment, for just a moment it felt like too much—almost painful to him, and he pressed his nose further into Yuri’s hair, seeking relief, and then as quickly as the overwhelming feeling had come, he felt a softness, a tenderness nipping gently at the edges of his mind, his heart feeling as if it were growing, trying to spread out further in his chest, and he let it, he relished it, pressing further against Yuri, holding him as tightly as he could, feeling like he was where he belonged, where he was always meant to be.

His heart clenched in his chest when Yuri’s hands moved, grabbing onto his shirt like he was afraid he was going to move away, desperation flowing in the connection between them, his body shaking in his arms as he spoke softly, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to take it…I just…I don’t really know why I did…I’m…I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine, Yuri, honestly, I wasn’t even going to take it from you, I just…I was surprised is all, if you wanted one, I could get you one, you know?”

“No, it’s not that, though…it’s not…”

Yuri pushed into Ryosuke further, almost as if he were trying to hide from him as he spoke, “I don’t want one of my own.”

“But…you have…mine…”

“Yes.”

Ryosuke’s mind was whirling trying to put together what Yuri was trying to explain to him, his eyes popping wide open when he managed to piece together the situation and the things Yuri was saying, “You…you want mine.”

“Yes.”

“I…I see,” Ryosuke tried to calm his heart down, positive that Yuri could feel it beating wildly in his chest but there was nothing he could do to stop it, even if he really wanted to, “Then…it’s alright, you can have it.”

Yuri made a small noise against his chest, shaking his head, and Ryosuke couldn’t help but laugh, because he was never shy, never bashful, but here he was hiding from him, over a hoodie, “I want you to have it.”

Yuri went limp against him, the will to fight draining from him as he pressed his face against the soft fleece of the hoodie, inhaling again the scent that seemed to be a part of the fabric itself.

“Thank you,” the words were muffled against the fabric, and Ryosuke could hear the smile in them even so, unable to keep from smiling himself, because he didn’t really understand why Yuri wanted the hoodie, but…somehow, he knew he’d give him anything at all if it made him happy.

A hoodie was the least of what Yuri could ask for all things considered, even if it was one of his favorite memorabilia from his movies, it hardly mattered at all if it meant making Yuri happy.




They were all more than a little tired, the tour was on the last leg, and all of them were looking forward to some down time. They’d arrived early, setting up the game consoles and spent the afternoon challenging each other to battles.

It was fun, and more than what Ryosuke most certainly needed at this point. He was taking a break, laying across the couch, his feet pushed into Yuri’s legs as he closed his eyes, sighing in contentment.

He could have fallen asleep, if not for the weird movement that Yuri was currently doing—when Ryosuke opened his eyes to look down at him, it was obvious that he was not even aware he was bobbing his legs up and down, the motion shaking the entire couch.

“Yuri,” Ryosuke said his name lazily, still feeling the fog of sleep over himself, pushing against his legs harder to get his attention since he had earbuds in.

When he pulled one out and tilted his head, Ryosuke pointed to his legs that were still moving, insisting, “Stop that.”

Yuri’s legs instantly stilled, his eyes widening as he looked at Ryosuke and then back to his own legs.

Ryosuke lifted up on his elbows, getting a better look at him, trying to decipher the change in the atmosphere. Yuri stared at him for a moment longer, slowly lifting the earbud to push it back in, glancing around the room before he focused back onto the game he’d been watching.

“Tell him to go over there,” Hikaru whispered from the seat next to Ryosuke’s head, causing him to startle, jumping to the side as he reached out to smack his leg.

“What?”

“Tell him to go over there, to the catering table…”

“Why?”

“Just do it,” Hikaru rolled his hand, encouraging Ryosuke to listen to him.

He wasn’t sure he should do whatever it was Hikaru was suggesting, it felt a little bit like most of Hikaru’s suggestions were just him messing with them on a general basis, and more often than not ended up with Yuri mad at him, at Hikaru, or unfortunately most of the time, both of them.

“Do it…” Hikaru nudged him with his fingertips.

Ryosuke sighed, already regretting his choice to listen to Hikaru, pushing against Yuri’s legs to get his attention again.

Yuri huffed, irritated at being interrupted again when Yuto had just made it to one of the really challenging parts, his eyes wide, “What?”

“Go over there to the catering table.”

Yuri glanced over to the table, then back at Ryosuke, “Why?”

At this, Ryosuke jerked his head to look at Hikaru, needing to know why he was even asking him to do this in the first place. Hikaru rolled his eyes, “You didn’t remotely mean it.”

“I didn’t mean what?”

“You don’t actually care if he goes over there or not—you have to mean it…say it like you mean it.”

“I don’t really care about him go—“

“Yama-chan, for the love of God, just do it…”

“You idiot, why don’t you ask him to go if you’re so keen on it?”

“It won’t work if I do it—it has to be you.”

Ryosuke looked back down the couch at Yuri who had just about lost even the last bit of his patience, “What in the world are you two on about?”

“Go over to the catering table,” Ryosuke repeated, but this time he meant it as an order, as a direct demand.

Yuri rolled his eyes, but then he was in motion, shoving Ryosuke’s legs off of his lap, and then moving quickly across the room to the table where he stood, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration, “Okay!”

Ryosuke couldn’t think straight, couldn’t make sense of it, his eyes snapping to Hikaru’s who was staring at Yuri with his mouth open, shock clear in his expression.

“Tell him to eat one of those cookies.”

“He doesn’t like those cookies though…” Ryosuke mumbled, shaking his head slowly.

“That’s how to tell, isn’t it?”

Ryosuke understood what he meant but he was already feeling completely uncomfortable with all of this, and unsure of what was really taking place at this point, but he was curious, so he focused on Yuri, “Yuri, eat one of those cookies.”

Yuri frowned, his torso twisting as he looked at the cookies on the table, “I don’t even like them though, they’re gross…”

“Eat that cookie,” Ryosuke snapped.

His heart dropped into his tummy, his fingers clenching into fists as he watched, horrified when Yuri’s hand reached out to pick up one of the cookies, his arm shaking as he lifted it to his mouth to eat it.

“Yuri! STOP!” Ryosuke bolted up off the couch, rushing across the room to slap the cookie out of his hand, mortified by what had just happened, grabbing Yuri into his arms, frantically touching him to hold him closely, “I’m so sorry, oh my God, Yuri, I’m so sorry!”

Yuri melted against him, sighing softly into his chest, “Don’t do that again.”

“I swear I won’t,” Ryosuke insisted, pressing a soft kiss against his temple, “I won’t…never again.”

“You promise?” Yuri whispered, his fingers grabbing onto Ryosuke’s shirt.

“I promise.”




They should have seen it coming, they really should have, but they most definitely did NOT see it—so when they were on the talk show and they were filling up the screen with an array of complaints about “Yamachii” both of the boys were in near panic mode. If they weren’t such seasoned professionals, they might have had a meltdown right there on screen.

Instead, they both laughed nervously, a strange vibration of energy passing between them as the hosts brought up the fact that there were concerns about the “Yamachii” relationship.

Ryosuke felt like someone had put their fingers around his throat, grasping him tightly so that he could not move or take a proper breath, his eyes cutting over to look at Yuri who was obviously worse off than him.

Behind him he could feel Yuya’s energy, a weird combination of peaceful assurance, and vague panic. Ryosuke rolled his eyes, wishing he better understood these concepts so he could tell Yuya to focus, this was big and they needed to handle it properly for the sake of all of their careers.

Ryosuke wanted to kick someone, hard, when the first ‘revelation’ popped up on the screen.

“They often kiss on the lips and hold each others hands…”

Alright, alright, so…this wasn’t true, it really wasn’t because neither one were stupid, and they wouldn’t actually kiss each other in concert in front of the camera.

And, factually speaking they hadn’t kissed anyway, not at all, not that either of them didn’t think about it an extraordinary number of minutes in a day, nor that they weren’t borderline obsessed with the very notion of the ‘perfect’ kiss between them, but rather, it was because…well, as far as they were concerned, it was simple to be whatever this whole Alpha/Omega thing was, and maybe it was more than that, involving some ancient weird ass magic, but navigating a romantic relationship while trying to figure out who you were while under the influence of that self-same weird ass magic?

Well, suffice to say, labeling it ‘it’s complicated’ is far too simplistic. 

So, they were moving slowly in all aspects of their relationship–mostly out of the need to be sure they were making the choices and none were being usurped from them by the link between them. For Ryosuke, it wasn’t that hard to see and understand the dynamics per say, but he sensed a lot of conflict in Yuri over it sometimes, and out of respect and care for him–he’d become determined to be as supportive as possible of Yuri being the one to move forward and take initiative.

The interesting thing was, in truth, a lot of things hadn’t exactly changed…it wasn’t like they had strict boundaries or normal friendship behavior before they had decided to become a couple–in fact, it was like their bodies and minds knew before their own hearts did–so in many ways, it didn’t feel like a very dramatic change to either of them to go from friends to a couple at all. 

Of course, there were plenty of times Ryosuke liked to pretend he would have surely moved forward with their relationship sooner but Yuri had never given a single indication he would be receptive to his attention in a romantic way.

Oh, just shut the hell up with that nonsense.

He couldn’t even kid himself about this, the truth was, Yuri had been more than clear, practically from the first day they’d met and he called him ‘Yama-chan’, that he felt a deep rooted affection for Ryosuke, and while Ryosuke didn’t consider himself the smartest guy in the world, he was in tune enough to recognize that Yuri held romantic feelings for him.

Ryosuke had felt much the same, of course, and though it had taken time for them to force their own stupid hangups out of the way of their relationship–plus, it was a strange thing to wonder about how much their traits influenced their thoughts and ideas about things–he wanted Yuri to want to be with him, to kiss him, touch him, because he wanted to, because it was his own desire–not a compelling need that he didn’t actually have an emotional connection to.

It was hard for Ryosuke to advise Yuri about his Omega trait…even a little bit, because it was so foreign to him. The Alpha trait was so ingrained in him, such a part of his being, that it seemed like it was just who he was from the very start, not actually ‘activated’–but it felt somehow different for Yuri. Sometimes, Ryosuke felt sure it was just because Yuri was afraid of the implications of what it would mean to be both a being of complete free will who was also moved through the spinning circles of life on a path set forth by destiny. It was a simple picture to Ryosuke of what that meant, and how it looked to him, but he had never been able to articulate it in a way that would give Yuri the confidence that they were who they were and they were in charge of their own lives even if fate had woven threads within their story’s tapestry.

So…sadly, they had not yet kissed.

They were waiting–for what?

Neither of them could really say, but they felt sure that they’d know it when it had, in fact, happened. 

Which made Ryosuke’s cheeks flame up in frustration that they were implying the two of them were out there randomly kissing all the time when in fact, he’d honestly love nothing more than to just say, “Hell ya, wouldn’t you kiss his perfectly pink, delightfully soft, plump pouty lips all the time too?” but instead would have to state the clear and concise truth, “That’s a lie.”

And even if they had kissed, if they were kissing every day, fifty times a day, it would be none of their business at any rate, and the entire situation offended his sensibilities.

Of course, thankfully, Yuri had the sense to point out that it certainly wasn’t on the lips, cause who the hell knew if they were going to be dragging out some obscure fan-cam or papa pic of one of the rare times they got a little carried away?

Best to cover their bases, so he was glad when Yuri played off his lead.

One down.

Then the second one popped up.

“They have ‘couples’ rings.”

Well, yeah?

This felt a little anticlimactic to be honest, sort of a let down, cause the thing is, they’d never even made a secret about the rings.

Ryosuke had bought them and they wore them and they were important and vital and meaningful and lovely and represented how much they cared for each other, their commitment to one another, and they had chosen them together, pleased in knowing it was far too trivial of a gesture for fate to have even given a single blink to it–so it affirmed they were the ones making the promises to each other.

The rings were sacred, and he’d personally kick anyone’s ass who said otherwise.

“Yes, we do have rings—it’s common among friends…”

“But you wear them on your pinkie—that means lover!”

Oh, hell no you did not.

“Now, that really is going too far,” Ryosuke snapped, knowing his tone was disrespectful and he meant it to be, he could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up out of the desire to stop this whole thing before they actually hurt Yuri.

Finally, the third–

“They recognize each other by scent.”

Well, fuck.

Ryosuke wanted to just throw his arms up in the air and just reveal the whole sordid truth because he wasn’t sure who told who what when but this was all beyond incriminating and to be perfectly honest, he felt attacked by the host and the program and felt the innate need to protect Yuri from these vipers.

How dare they.

They could bring Ryosuke onto their show and do whatever they wanted, God knows they have—but to involve Yuri?

For what?

Ratings?

Entertainment?

Please, that’s the worst of all if it’s just for entertainment value, it’s even more offensive.

His mind was focused on Yuri though, his heart reaching out to him, knowing he was undoubtedly having a mini-heart attack even as Ryosuke was plotting revenge on everyone in that studio along with all of their relatives, pets, and maybe even their children’s children if he had anything to say about it.

If he found out who gave them this information, he was going to hurt someone. Maybe go to jail—at the very least probably lose his job.

It would be SO worth it.

Ryosuke clenched his fists because he didn’t remember the last five minutes, pretty sure he blacked out or something to get through the insane explanation of why they could tell each other by their scent, and all he could think was ‘thank God for Yuri’ because he really stepped up and delivered when Ryosuke couldn’t think of any response that wouldn’t be like…

“Well, Karen, I realize this doesn’t rank as real news to you since it’s not common knowledge anymore—but, please, educate yourself. Our ancestors were these hybrid humans with crazy sensory perception and all of this really bizarre stuff that we just can’t get into on national television, and even though all of you want to pretend it’s not real, it is—so, but suffice to say, I can smell Yuri from two miles away and well, to be perfectly blunt, his scent is the most perfect thing in the universe and I could live off of it alone…was there anything else you wanted to know about us? Since we’re here and you’re so actively violating our privacy and all that…No? Okay then…see you next time.”

No, it was good that Yuri had answered with some inane jabber about colognes and lingering scents and whatever else he’d said, and all Ryosuke could think was Yuya hasn’t said a word the whole time.

Then they asked him what Jump thought about this and if Ryosuke hadn’t already had an out of body experience through his multiple deaths while being filmed on this program, this would have sent him, cause they did NOT need to talk about what Jump thought about him and Yuri.

At all.

He held his breath, hoping with his whole heart that Yuya had been given enough time to formulate a response to any question they’d thrown their way, and then when he answered, Ryosuke felt so happy—because that was simple, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, we acknowledge this,” Yuya laughed softly from behind him.

And it’s true…they do acknowledge it—they support us, and well…

“Karen, we’re all a little twisted right, and Yuri and I are not the only ones, though we are certainly the most progressed out of all of the people we have met with this issue.”

Nah, better they just think he means “Yah, Yamachii, little freaks the both of them” rather than the truth.


Ryosuke arrived last to the dressing room—having filmed his latest Lachesca commercial that afternoon—he was exhausted, and tired and a little cranky, but his mood was about to change.

The moment he saw Daiki, he moved across the space that separated them, inhaling deeply of his scent, crowing loudly in his ear, “I KNEW IT!”

Daiki shrugged his shoulders, covering his ears, looking at Ryosuke like he was crazy, in fact, pretty much everyone was looking at him that way except for Yuri who regarded him with a sense of amusement as he tested their connection.

“I want to know the secret of your beautiful, young looking complexion,” Ryosuke asked in the most sincere voice he could, “…because I think all of us, as idols, can use every single tip possible for keeping our skin in the best, healthiest, most youthful condition!”

Ryosuke threw himself down into a chair in front of Daiki, gesturing to him now that he was the only person standing, “Go ahead, Dai-chan, the room is yours, please, share your skin care routine so we can all learn from you.”

“I—I don’t understand…I don’t…I mean I don’t use anything special, my skin is just naturally hydra—“

“EEEEEEEHHHHHHHNNNNNNTTTTT,” Ryosuke mimicked the sound of a buzzer—loud and annoying causing Daiki to jump, rolling his hand at him, “Go on, try again.”

“I—I just wash my face with normal wat—“

“EEEEEEEHHHHHHHNNNNNNTTTTT!”

“Will you please sto—“

“EEEEEEEHHHHHHHNNNNNNTTTTT!”

“Seriously, yo—”

“EEEEEEEHHHHHHHNNNNNNTTTTT!”

“Ryos—”

“EEEEEEEHHHHHHHNNNNNNTTTTT!”

“For the love of all things good and holy what in the world is happening here?!” Kei spoke up, having watched the scene with amusement and then irritation.

“He’s a liar, liar pants on fire,” Ryosuke taunted, looking over at Kei, “I know what the smell is.”

Daiki went impossibly pale his eyes widening before he managed to school them.

“Ohhhh,” Ryosuke smiled, but it was perfectly evil, obviously something he picked up from one of his less sane character portrayals like Semi or something, “Noooow you see.”

Daiki nodded his head once.

“Shall I tell them or will you be doing the honors?”

Daiki tilted his head down, gesturing for Ryosuke to go ahead. 

Ryosuke smiled, standing to put his arm around Daiki, pulling him into a side hug, “Our boy who has spent the last God knows how many years touting the natural beauty of his skin, who has repeatedly told all of us along with any magazine, talk show, or fan that would listen that he had flawless skin based on his good genetics, eating habits, and ‘fresh happy attitude’—has been holding out on us all along.”

The room erupted in chatter, everyone freaking out about the idea that Daiki lied to them about this, after all, they all shared ‘trade’ secrets regularly—but Ryosuke didn’t let them get too carried away, “He uses Lachesca products.”

Everyone stopped talking weighing this information, then Daiki nodded, “I do.”

“Apparently, he uses a lot of them, simultaneously,” Ryosuke added, “Like, it takes a really potent cocktail of their products to produce the level of noxious scented fumes that would tamper with your natural aroma to this point.”

“I just want my skin to look nice!” Daiki defended himself, “…and I didn’t tell you guys cause I didn’t want you to think it was stupid.”

“It is stupid,” Ryosuke snapped, “Not for the reason you think, I’ll give you the number to my dermatologist—let them take care of you, stop using the stuff you’re using, I swear it has to be destroying your chemical makeup bit by bit to produce such a horrible smell.”

“We endorse that product,” Daiki commented, and everyone paused considering this information.

“We do,” Ryosuke agreed, “However, no one I know uses fifteen of them a day—no one but you, and apparently the girl I met on set for my commercial today who incredibly had the same bizarre underlying scent as you.”

“Huh,” Daiki tilted his head, wrapping his arm around Ryosuke’s shoulder in return, “Maybe you should introduce us, sounds like we already have a lot in common!”

They all laughed at that, and Ryosuke told him he’d think about sharing her contact information if Daiki would go to his dermatologist. 

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