A/N: This is a sequel to 'Crossing the Fine Line'.

I'm not really confident/comfortable in my characterizations of Ren and Kyoko, so this is probably more OOC than I would like.

I didn't plan to continue this because I figured it would be angst-ville and a disaster, but here we are, and it is. This actually ended up a lot more emotionally charged and full of feelings than I intended, to the point where it's not totally PWP, even though the plot is rather light and there is a LOT of smut.

The morning light invaded the room from between a gap in the curtains, causing Kyoko's mouth to twitch as her closed eyes shut tighter. She was warm and so comfortable, having had perhaps the best night's sleep of her life, and her body was not yet ready to face the world. Unconsciously, she wriggled into a cozier position and inhaled deeply, feeling the heavy weight of arms around her waist.

Her eyes shot open as realization dawned, and her mind was suddenly very awake. She wanted to bolt from not just the bed or from the room, but from the planet. How had this happened? She was Mogami Kyoko, a pure Japanese maiden, and not some wanton creature who did that with her respected senpai! HOW HAD THIS HAPPENED?! She felt like she was going insane; had become completely depraved. And then he woke up, and she really wanted to die.

"Mmmm," he hummed into her hair, his grip tightening. "Good morning."

She would've screamed if she was capable of it, but there were no words. There was nothing. She was unchaste, impure, immodest, shameless, corrupt… and she had relished in the feeling of his hands on her, of his… his mouth… she couldn't even think the words! This was so bad that there was not a word that described how bad it was. What the HELL was she supposed to do?!

She'd smelled so good, felt so good, and he never wanted to let go. He didn't think it was possible to feel this happy, and then she'd gone stiff in his arms, and Ren had crashed violently back to earth. What they'd done – or rather, what he'd done – last night, was about to ruin everything. It didn't matter how much she'd teased him, or how intentionally she was tempting him. He was a grown man, and he knew better than this. How disgusted she must be with him; how she must hate him, almost as much as he hated himself.

With revulsion he buried his guilt and tried to think of some way to salvage the situation he'd created. She shouldn't ever speak to him again, that's what he deserved, but still, he could not bear it. Truly, he did not deserve her, he thought, as he determined to lie and manipulate his way out of another horrible situation of his own making.

"You're so heavy, Nii-san," Setsu whined, pushing at his arms.

Ren stopped breathing, and it was his turn to go stiff. Did she just…?

"Up up," she demanded impatiently, trying to shove him off. "Go shower while I make breakfast."

He grunted in response, hesitating briefly before letting her go. The loss of her warmth left him keenly aware of what he'd done, and his eyes stung sharply as a deep pain clawed at his chest. Obediently, he rose from the bed, feet dragging all the way to the bathroom.

Kyoko let out the breath she was holding, staring at her shaking hands. What must he think of her now? How could he ever respect her now? She would get through the morning by relying on her acting, and once it was over, only then could she deal with the aftermath of the previous night. At this moment, she couldn't even think about it. Setsu, I am Setsu, and I'm here with my beloved Nii-san, making breakfast. Her mind was a flurry of thought, but she would push it all down. She had to push it all down.

The sound of the water running made her suddenly hyperaware that Ren was completely naked; mere feet away. Her face flushed, her eyes closing, imagining being with him in the shower. Hot water streaming down, his skin against hers, his hands on her body… she moaned, eyes flinging open as she realized the food was burning and her hands had begun to wander. Ashamed of her thoughts and self-conscious of the wetness between her legs, she shook her head violently.

"Focus," she hissed, voice barely a whisper, lest he hear her through the door.

The water was so hot it burned, but it wasn't enough to distract him from the pain and the guilt that flooded his mind. He was a monster already, a killer, yes, but this was a new low even for him. She was innocent – hadn't really known what she was doing, and he'd taken advantage. In the harsh light of the morning, everything that had seemed so wonderful the night before was now unbearably ugly.

He wanted to apologize to her, not that there was any way to undo the damage, but she'd made it abundantly clear that she wanted to keep up the pretense of their act. After they'd returned to being Tsuruga Ren and Mogami Kyoko, he would get on his knees and grovel - do anything and everything in his power to make her feel even slightly better. That was his plan, but Woods-san had finished with her first, and Kyoko seemed to disappear before his eyes.

There he was, left drowning in self-recrimination.

He'd tried calling, and left several text messages, but she hadn't responded. It's not like he could blame her, but it was still killing him. At that moment, he'd have gladly given up life itself just to see her face, and as if the heavens opened up to answer his silent prayer, it was at that moment a flash of shocking pink came barreling into him.

He looked up to see Kotonami-san smirk knowingly at him, flip her hair, and then retreat quickly into the other direction. Fear gripped him, but also relief, and he savored the scent of her hair for what was probably the last time. Desperately he wanted to see her face, and yet he was desperately afraid of what he'd see written on it.

"Please forgive me!" she yelled, dropping into a bow, and then shooting straight upwards when she realized who it was she'd just been shoved into.

Her eyes widened in panic, mouth contorted as though in pain, and her arms tucked into her chest, shrinking from him. He was surprised she didn't scream, but she must have been too shocked. He felt as though he'd just been stabbed.

She couldn't speak – couldn't even breathe, but the anguish she could see in his eyes threatened to undo her. That pained look he was giving her, she did that to him. This was all her fault! How ashamed of them both he must be. How disgusted he must feel having touched her again. She felt her eyes welling with tears, so she turned tail and ran like the chicken she was.

"Don't," he warned, unwilling to even hear the question on Yashiro's tongue. "Just don't."

Three weeks. It had been three weeks since she'd said a word to him. He had sent her a few texts, but she was too much of a coward to respond. She didn't think she could ever face him again, and she hoped that she would never have to. It was starting to wear on her, the lack of sleep, and seeing him again would only make it worse – cause her to remember it all too vividly.

Just the scent of his skin lit her body on fire, drove her crazy in ways she never even imagined possible. She could see it every time she closed her eyes, and it had to stop, for the sake of her sanity. It wasn't fair for him to have such power over her, and there was no one she could talk to about it. The only thing to do was to bury herself in her work and not have so much as a second to spare. If she went to bed completely exhausted, she figured, then maybe she wouldn't have to endure the dreams.

Her plan had been going so well, that is until they ran into each other in an otherwise empty hallway at TBM.

The last few weeks had been an agonizing and unending stretch of hell as Ren tortured himself ceaselessly in every moment of free time. When he was working, he was able to distract himself well enough, but his professional mask was beginning to crumble, and Yashiro was almost too afraid to speak to him altogether. The last thread of his self-control was ready to snap, and that's when he saw her.

They both stopped, dumbstruck, and just stared at one another, not speaking, not moving; not even breathing. It felt as though time was standing still – that the earth had stopped spinning. The air had been sucked out of the room and nothing else existed but this moment, and these two people who couldn't turn away from each other, but couldn't face each other either.

Minutes passed, but they remained like statues, stock-still and staring. At length, he finally broke the silence, and reality crashed down upon them like a tidal wave, and swept them out to sea.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, broken, falling to his knees.

She just stared, confused and overwhelmed.

"I don't… don't expect you to forgive me, but I-"

"Forgive you?" she breathed, dumbfounded.

Why on earth was he apologizing?! She was the one who… who…

"Please, Mogami-san," he begged.

She felt like she was really and truly going insane. Tsuruga Ren, King of Actors, and her treasured senpai, was on the floor, apologizing to her. The profoundness of her confusion was so devastating, that she too dropped to her knees, staring at him in awe.

With trepidation he reached for her, courage faltering briefly, before taking her hands in his. She wasn't running, and that's all that mattered. It wasn't much, but it was something, and he'd gladly take whatever scraps she tossed his way.

His touch, even so innocent as this, was electric. She looked down at where his very large hands were clasped together with her much smaller ones, and her face was flooded with heat. Those long, surprisingly nimble fingers now seemed so provocative. Her tongue darted out to lick her slightly parted lips – when had her mouth become so dry? For just a moment her eyes fluttered closed, before she managed to look up into his face.

"Mogami-san?"

It was less a question and more of a plea. Even if she would never love him, and even if he would burn in hell, he wanted – needed – to touch her. He was damned already, and he just needed some sign of encouragement from her and he could…

"Tsuruga-san," she whimpered, face flushed.

It was all the permission he needed.

His lips crashed into hers. His mouth was rough and greedy and desperate. He released her hands in order to make better use of them, and they seemed to be everywhere, heating up her entire body. She didn't even know when his tongue had entered her mouth, but she'd accepted it hungrily. She moaned into the kiss, but she didn't care. The only thing they stopped for was to gasp for air, but only for the briefest moment, but then he was back on her – on top of her and all over her, and she didn't even know or care anymore.

Some part of his brain told him to slow down, but he couldn't. He knew what she felt like, what she tasted like; what she sounded like, and he was too worked up to be gentle. He pushed her onto her back and buried his tongue in her mouth, and she'd let him. That was all that mattered.

Her legs were wrapped around his waist, gripping for dear life as he thrust himself against her. Her hands had found his back, digging under the fabric of his shirt, and clawing viciously into his skin. He shuddered, breaking the kiss, and groaned, leaving her panting as he bit hard into her shoulder.

He lifted her hips to give him a better angle and she cried out as he rubbed himself against her, headless of the friction from the fabric of his pants. Her body arched upwards and he bit her breast through her shirt.

"Tsu-ru-ga-san," she gasped, head lolling back towards the floor.

"Again," he growled, driving harder against her, pace becoming frantic.

She clutched his back for dear life, barely able to even breathe as he built her up, so close now to the edge, just a little more and –

CRASH

"Tsuruga-san?" she whispered, voice shaking.

He stopped, everything stopped. Fuck, he cursed, someone had seen them! They were in a hallway, had he forgotten? If this got out… his career would probably survive, but hers wouldn't. This was a level of disaster beyond his wildest imagination.

Slowly, cautiously, he turned his head. No one there, but someone had apparently witnessed their… activities… and dropped a cup of coffee on the floor. He sighed, relieving a small bit of tension. It was possible that, given the distance, the person hadn't seen their faces. He could only hope.

"We need to get out of here now," he breathed, heart racing.

She didn't respond, only looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights, large eyes unseeing, but filled with fear or shock or simply just disbelief. He'd worry about that later; for now they had a much more pressing concern.

He quickly, but carefully rose to feet, pulling her up along with him, and was suddenly extremely thankful he'd worn black pants, as he adjusted himself. He gave her a quick run over, to make sure she was presentable, and then they retreated down the opposite end of the hall from the dropped mug. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her alone, but it would be safer if they separated, he reasoned, as he'd already put her at so much risk.

"Meet me in the parking garage," he instructed, tilting her chin up towards him and pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

She nodded her assent, and they walked off in different directions.

Yashiro looked from one to the other, seeming to discern that something was amiss, but finding himself unable to work out what. Neither Ren nor Kyoko had said a single word, and though the atmosphere was oppressively tense, it wasn't the angry tension he was used to. It was very curious, and he had every intention of getting to the bottom of it.

"Goodnight, Kyoko-san," he offered warmly.

She didn't respond, unbuckling her seatbelt and opening the door in silence. That Kyoko, someone who was polite to a fault, had just ignored him, spoke volumes.

"Mogami-san," Ren called, pulling Yashiro from his reverie, "goodnight."

"Goodnight," she echoed, leaving the two men alone.

They watched her walk dazedly to the door, and then disappear inside the Darumaya.

"I don't suppose you intend to tell me what that was all about?"

"What what was all about, Yashiro?"

Yukihito glared at his charge, wanting to rip his hair out, as Ren pulled back into the road and started driving.

A/N: I realized while writing this, that Kyoko should've woken up with no panties on, and there's no way she would've gotten out of bed like that (or even in what she wore the night before), but I'm a lazy bastard and because this is PWP (and technically a separate story), I'm just throwing my concerns about continuity to the wind.

Thank you for reading! I hope the frequent POV switching wasn't too confusing ^^