Work Text:
Sho Fuwa liked being the center of attention. He was, he admitted without any trace of self-consciousness, just that awesome.. Universal adoration wasn't the only--or even the primary--reason that Sho had become a (super hot, super famous) singer, however.
Sho Fuwa was in it for the music.
He'd had plenty of opportunities to get laid since making it big in the music industry. There wasn't a fan at his concerts who wouldn't climb into Sho's bed if he flashed them a smile, and crooked a finger in their direction. A few of them hadn't even bothered waiting for the smile and wave. Sho had invested in better security. Instances of random girls in his bed had stopped, but the point stood: Sho could have any girl he wanted, whenever he wanted.
The problem was, quite simply, that he didn't want any of them. The girls at his concerts were empty-headed twits. That they had the good taste to adore Sho didn't make it any easier to actually deal with them.
(The first apartment he'd shared with Kyoko had been small. Steam wafted out of the bathroom after Kyoko showered, and filled the entire apartment with the scent of her shampoo. The stuff was cheap, and smelt strongly of artificial strawberries. Her hair clung--thick and heavy--to the nape of her neck, and left damp spots on the worn material of her shirt.
Combing Kyoko's hair was beneath Sho's dignity, but it made her happy. She sat on the floor between Sho's feet, her head bowed so that her chin rested on her knees. Sho carded his fingers through Kyoko's damp hair before putting the comb to it. She never complained, even when the comb caught in snarls. It took a long time to smooth all the snarls from Kyoko's hair.
"I'll buy you better stuff, once I make it big," Sho promised, lofty and generous.
Kyoko's soft "Sho-chan," was muffled against her knees, her face hidden by the curve of her arm. Her shoulders shifted, brushing against the inside of Sho's thigh. The tips of her ears were flushed.
What a pathetic girl, Sho thought, to be pleased by such ridiculous things. The skin at the nape of her neck was warm, hair fine against Sho's knuckles. He drew his hand away, and tossed the comb onto the couch beside him.
They needed a bigger apartment. The steam was still lingering. It was hard to breathe, impossible to cool down.
"Go to bed," Sho said.
Kyoko's smile was adoring. "Good night, Sho-chan.")
If Sho hadn't had sex yet, it was only because he had yet to meet the girl worthy of his perfect self.
Sho had standards.