Roommates
Title: Roommates
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sawada Shin/Suzuki Taiyo (Gokusen; Yoiko no Mikata)
Summary: It wasn’t that Sawada Shin was unfriendly - he could be nice when he absolutely had to be, but he just wasn’t used to the sunshine and rainbows and neverending smiles of his new roommate.
Notes/Warnings: An End of 2009 Request from ME!! Another one of those things I've never been able to find so I figured I'd write it myself. And an excuse for more Sakumoto, indirectly :)!
“Africa huh?” the guy asked him as he set down Shin’s box. “Wow, that’s so far away.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“I mean, I’m pretty happy teaching here. Helping out here. You know, at the school. But wow, that would be neat.”
Shin was just waiting for the cheerful guy to let him alone for a while. It was strange, moving into this apartment. He’d gotten so used to living alone, but now that he was back and only working part-time, it just didn’t make a whole lot of financial sense to stay by himself.
He was helping out Kuma’s family by slinging ramen all day, but he didn’t want to live with the guy. And Noda and Uchi...well, he didn’t want to bother them anyway. There was no way he’d move home again. Ever. Before he’d left for the volunteer program overseas, he’d met this guy, this preschool teacher. It was some strange twist of fate that they met again.
He’d been apartment hunting, and the pair of them had happened on the same building at the same time. Of course, the preschool teacher, Suzuki...well, he’d remembered Shin from a few years back. And Shin definitely remembered him too, even without the apron, but he hadn’t really wanted to admit it out loud.
Preschool teaching didn’t pay well either, so they’d agreed to find a place they could share. The guy had seemed nice enough and probably honest, given his profession. The rent would get paid consistently. But now as the guy was helping him carry in his things, he was kind of regretting it. It wasn’t that Sawada Shin was unfriendly - he could be nice when he absolutely had to be, but he just wasn’t used to the sunshine and rainbows and neverending smiles of his new roommate.
“Just the futon things left on the truck!” Suzuki said. “Want me to get them?”
“It’s fine,” he replied, moving past him and out of the bedroom. The guy’s room was on the other side of their shared living space, and there were already drawings from his students tacked up since he’d moved in the day before.
Suzuki trailed him back outside to the rented moving truck anyway. “Please, I’m used to being told what to do. Let me help of my own free will,” the teacher complained, mumbling under his breath, probably about his co-workers.
“It’s fine, sensei,” he repeated, trying to get the guy off his back. But Suzuki was too chipper, too eager to please and when they both reached for the box, they tugged too hard and the box went flying.
“Damn it,” he mumbled as it crashed to the ground.
“I thought it was futon stuff.”
Sawada took the lid off the box, frowning at the completely broken, hand-carved statue one of the guys he’d worked with had given him. The last day of the volunteer program, Adowele had given it to him - he’d spent all his off time for weeks carving it knowing that Shin would be returning to Japan. He’d put it in with his sheets and pillows to keep it safe and now...
“Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Suzuki was mumbling. “That...was something special...”
He put the lid back on the box and picked it up. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“I didn’t buy it.”
They were quiet as Suzuki walked up the steps behind him, carrying Shin’s remaining things.
“I’m sorry.”
He said nothing in return, letting the teacher set down the rest of his stuff.
“I’ll...I’ll return the rental truck, okay? See you later.”
Shin picked up the broken pieces of Adowele’s gift and frowned. He wondered if this was going to work out.
--
The hallway absolutely reeked when he turned the key in the lock. “I’m back,” Shin said, wrinkling his nose as he entered.
“Hey!” Suzuki called from the kitchen. “Welcome back. I made...well...”
Shin slid out of his shoes. He’d been around ramen all day, so the smell in the kitchen wasn’t much of an improvement. “You made...?”
It was their second month, and Suzuki Taiyo’s home cooking always made Shin lose his appetite. He was bringing stuff home from the convenience store most nights just so he wouldn’t have to stand in the kitchen after the preschool teacher had been in there working on some new culinary activity. It would probably be in Suzuki’s best interest to quit and go to the convenience store himself.
He sat down at their table in the living room, taking his prepared meal out of the plastic bag as Suzuki entered with a plate and some juice. “I made...a pork cutlet.”
It was positively charred.
“I think I’m getting better.”
Shin took the take-out chopsticks apart. “No comment.”
But as usual, the guy beamed. Very little seemed to deter his spirits, even as he bit into the cutlet and probably ate mostly charred pieces. “You had a lot of barbecued meat in Africa, right?”
He rolled his eyes.
“I’ll just pretend I’m in Africa like you were, Sawada.”
“You do that. I’ll sit here and avoid food poisoning.”
--
“Do you have a girlfriend?” the teacher asked him out of nowhere one night. Shin had been trying to read, and Suzuki was playing some new soccer game. Suzuki probably had the same amount of ridiculous questions as his students.
“No.”
“What about in Africa?”
“No.” He felt bad sometimes, not giving Suzuki more than one word, dismissive answers, but it was his private life. He’d prefer it to remain private.
Suzuki’s goalie blocked a shot from the opposing team. He turned around, grinning. It was his off day tomorrow, and he’d had a few beers. “What about a boyfriend?”
Sawada turned the page, the words no longer registering. “Here or in Africa?”
His roommate laughed at that one, turning back to his game. “I think Minako-sensei likes me.”
“She good looking?”
“I guess.”
He didn’t know why he was indulging Suzuki in conversation. Shin gave up on the book entirely. “Well, have you asked her out?”
“She’s um...not my type.”
“Huh.” No wonder the boyfriend question came up - seemed like Taiyo-sensei needed a few beers before he was truly honest with other people...or himself.
“Besides, my friend likes her so it would be bad if I...well, you know.”
He smiled at the back of his roommate’s head, watched his fingers fly deftly over the controller buttons. “I know.”
--
When he came home, Suzuki was sitting in the middle of their living room. He hadn’t even taken off his coat. He tended to sulk like a little kid - didn’t help that he spent most of his day around them.
Months ago, he wouldn’t have cared. He would have made something to eat and gone in his room, closing the door and closing out Suzuki. But instead, he crouched down at the teacher’s side. “Something happen?”
“One of the girls had a peanut allergy, but the parents hadn’t said anything.” He looked completely exhausted. “I was in the emergency room with her. She’ll be okay, but she really could have died.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Suzuki just shook his head, and Shin could see tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “Shouldn’t have even included those granola bars in snack time. Stupid. I’m such a stupid idiot.”
Shin sighed, putting his arm around the guy’s shoulder. “The parents don’t even know their kid’s allergies. Really, it’s not your fault.”
But he wouldn’t be dissuaded. His students were his life - Shin had gone to Africa to find something that could mean as much to him as teaching kids did for Taiyo-sensei. He hadn’t exactly found it.
He ruffled Suzuki’s hair. “Well, couldn’t you make sure all parents get allergy information about their kids turned in? Turn this bad experience into something positive for the future?”
Suzuki considered this. “You’re smart, Shin. A lot smarter than I am.”
“I know.”
That finally got a smile out of the teacher. At first, Taiyo-sensei’s smiles were almost too much for Shin to deal with - kind of like Yankumi’s ridiculous enthusiasm. He had to stop being attracted to people so ridiculously different from himself.
“Take your coat off,” Shin said, getting to his feet. “You look ridiculous.”
--
He had the paycheck in his hand - his first pay period completed at the non-profit agency, his first pay period as a full-time employee. A few more of these, and he’d have enough to get his own apartment.
That was what Suzuki had figured apparently. When Sawada came in the door, Taiyo had bought him a huge bottle of beer - and gone through the trouble of making a “Congratulations Shin!” banner.
He was sitting at their table holding up his bottle expectantly. “Cheeeeeers!”
“It’s just a paycheck.”
“Well,” Suzuki looked down at his own bottle, picking at the label with the nail on his thumb. “You can...you’re finding your way, right?”
He took off his jacket, loosened the stupid tie. He had to dress nice, but at least he wasn’t working for a company without a soul. “I don’t know yet.”
“It’s a long commute though, right?” Sensei was very nervous - Shin almost felt guilty. He had no intentions of going anywhere, didn’t Taiyo know that?
“So?” Maybe he just wanted the teacher to say something first. Sawada Shin wasn’t a coward about most things but...
Suzuki set down his bottle and frowned. “I’m sorry. I should be happier for you.”
Making a giant banner with puffy paint wasn’t enough to prove a point then? He tapped the paper with his hand. “Thanks. Really.”
Suzuki got up, holding up a finger. “Just a second.” He watched Suzuki disappear into...Shin’s own room? Okay, that wasn’t happening. He followed, only to see the guy picking up a box from the bed. “Oh,” Taiyo said, seemingly surprised that Shin would follow.
“What the hell are you...?”
Taiyo held out the box. “I don’t know if it’s right, but I still felt bad. I figured that with your new job that you’d probably move, so I just thought...”
Shin opened the lid, and there was Adowele’s carved gift. He’d stuck it under his bed in a shoebox and forgotten about it after it was broken. It was glued a bit sloppily, but it had probably taken Taiyo hours to do it, especially without Shin finding out.
“I just made it worse, didn’t I?”
But he grinned, running his finger over the bits of glue that were visible from where Taiyo had stuck pieces back together. It was perfect.
“I’m not moving, okay?” He closed the box and set it on the bed. Taiyo watched him, cheeks pink from however many depression beers he’d downed before Shin had gotten home.
“You’re not?”
He and Taiyo made zero sense - as roommates, as friends, as anything, but Shin’s life up until now hadn’t made much sense.
Taiyo-sensei smelled faintly like play-doh and watercolors, but when their lips met, he tasted like beer and everything Shin needed. He wasn’t going anywhere.
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sawada Shin/Suzuki Taiyo (Gokusen; Yoiko no Mikata)
Summary: It wasn’t that Sawada Shin was unfriendly - he could be nice when he absolutely had to be, but he just wasn’t used to the sunshine and rainbows and neverending smiles of his new roommate.
Notes/Warnings: An End of 2009 Request from ME!! Another one of those things I've never been able to find so I figured I'd write it myself. And an excuse for more Sakumoto, indirectly :)!
“Africa huh?” the guy asked him as he set down Shin’s box. “Wow, that’s so far away.”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“I mean, I’m pretty happy teaching here. Helping out here. You know, at the school. But wow, that would be neat.”
Shin was just waiting for the cheerful guy to let him alone for a while. It was strange, moving into this apartment. He’d gotten so used to living alone, but now that he was back and only working part-time, it just didn’t make a whole lot of financial sense to stay by himself.
He was helping out Kuma’s family by slinging ramen all day, but he didn’t want to live with the guy. And Noda and Uchi...well, he didn’t want to bother them anyway. There was no way he’d move home again. Ever. Before he’d left for the volunteer program overseas, he’d met this guy, this preschool teacher. It was some strange twist of fate that they met again.
He’d been apartment hunting, and the pair of them had happened on the same building at the same time. Of course, the preschool teacher, Suzuki...well, he’d remembered Shin from a few years back. And Shin definitely remembered him too, even without the apron, but he hadn’t really wanted to admit it out loud.
Preschool teaching didn’t pay well either, so they’d agreed to find a place they could share. The guy had seemed nice enough and probably honest, given his profession. The rent would get paid consistently. But now as the guy was helping him carry in his things, he was kind of regretting it. It wasn’t that Sawada Shin was unfriendly - he could be nice when he absolutely had to be, but he just wasn’t used to the sunshine and rainbows and neverending smiles of his new roommate.
“Just the futon things left on the truck!” Suzuki said. “Want me to get them?”
“It’s fine,” he replied, moving past him and out of the bedroom. The guy’s room was on the other side of their shared living space, and there were already drawings from his students tacked up since he’d moved in the day before.
Suzuki trailed him back outside to the rented moving truck anyway. “Please, I’m used to being told what to do. Let me help of my own free will,” the teacher complained, mumbling under his breath, probably about his co-workers.
“It’s fine, sensei,” he repeated, trying to get the guy off his back. But Suzuki was too chipper, too eager to please and when they both reached for the box, they tugged too hard and the box went flying.
“Damn it,” he mumbled as it crashed to the ground.
“I thought it was futon stuff.”
Sawada took the lid off the box, frowning at the completely broken, hand-carved statue one of the guys he’d worked with had given him. The last day of the volunteer program, Adowele had given it to him - he’d spent all his off time for weeks carving it knowing that Shin would be returning to Japan. He’d put it in with his sheets and pillows to keep it safe and now...
“Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no,” Suzuki was mumbling. “That...was something special...”
He put the lid back on the box and picked it up. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ll pay for it.”
“I didn’t buy it.”
They were quiet as Suzuki walked up the steps behind him, carrying Shin’s remaining things.
“I’m sorry.”
He said nothing in return, letting the teacher set down the rest of his stuff.
“I’ll...I’ll return the rental truck, okay? See you later.”
Shin picked up the broken pieces of Adowele’s gift and frowned. He wondered if this was going to work out.
--
The hallway absolutely reeked when he turned the key in the lock. “I’m back,” Shin said, wrinkling his nose as he entered.
“Hey!” Suzuki called from the kitchen. “Welcome back. I made...well...”
Shin slid out of his shoes. He’d been around ramen all day, so the smell in the kitchen wasn’t much of an improvement. “You made...?”
It was their second month, and Suzuki Taiyo’s home cooking always made Shin lose his appetite. He was bringing stuff home from the convenience store most nights just so he wouldn’t have to stand in the kitchen after the preschool teacher had been in there working on some new culinary activity. It would probably be in Suzuki’s best interest to quit and go to the convenience store himself.
He sat down at their table in the living room, taking his prepared meal out of the plastic bag as Suzuki entered with a plate and some juice. “I made...a pork cutlet.”
It was positively charred.
“I think I’m getting better.”
Shin took the take-out chopsticks apart. “No comment.”
But as usual, the guy beamed. Very little seemed to deter his spirits, even as he bit into the cutlet and probably ate mostly charred pieces. “You had a lot of barbecued meat in Africa, right?”
He rolled his eyes.
“I’ll just pretend I’m in Africa like you were, Sawada.”
“You do that. I’ll sit here and avoid food poisoning.”
--
“Do you have a girlfriend?” the teacher asked him out of nowhere one night. Shin had been trying to read, and Suzuki was playing some new soccer game. Suzuki probably had the same amount of ridiculous questions as his students.
“No.”
“What about in Africa?”
“No.” He felt bad sometimes, not giving Suzuki more than one word, dismissive answers, but it was his private life. He’d prefer it to remain private.
Suzuki’s goalie blocked a shot from the opposing team. He turned around, grinning. It was his off day tomorrow, and he’d had a few beers. “What about a boyfriend?”
Sawada turned the page, the words no longer registering. “Here or in Africa?”
His roommate laughed at that one, turning back to his game. “I think Minako-sensei likes me.”
“She good looking?”
“I guess.”
He didn’t know why he was indulging Suzuki in conversation. Shin gave up on the book entirely. “Well, have you asked her out?”
“She’s um...not my type.”
“Huh.” No wonder the boyfriend question came up - seemed like Taiyo-sensei needed a few beers before he was truly honest with other people...or himself.
“Besides, my friend likes her so it would be bad if I...well, you know.”
He smiled at the back of his roommate’s head, watched his fingers fly deftly over the controller buttons. “I know.”
--
When he came home, Suzuki was sitting in the middle of their living room. He hadn’t even taken off his coat. He tended to sulk like a little kid - didn’t help that he spent most of his day around them.
Months ago, he wouldn’t have cared. He would have made something to eat and gone in his room, closing the door and closing out Suzuki. But instead, he crouched down at the teacher’s side. “Something happen?”
“One of the girls had a peanut allergy, but the parents hadn’t said anything.” He looked completely exhausted. “I was in the emergency room with her. She’ll be okay, but she really could have died.”
“It’s not your fault.”
Suzuki just shook his head, and Shin could see tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. “Shouldn’t have even included those granola bars in snack time. Stupid. I’m such a stupid idiot.”
Shin sighed, putting his arm around the guy’s shoulder. “The parents don’t even know their kid’s allergies. Really, it’s not your fault.”
But he wouldn’t be dissuaded. His students were his life - Shin had gone to Africa to find something that could mean as much to him as teaching kids did for Taiyo-sensei. He hadn’t exactly found it.
He ruffled Suzuki’s hair. “Well, couldn’t you make sure all parents get allergy information about their kids turned in? Turn this bad experience into something positive for the future?”
Suzuki considered this. “You’re smart, Shin. A lot smarter than I am.”
“I know.”
That finally got a smile out of the teacher. At first, Taiyo-sensei’s smiles were almost too much for Shin to deal with - kind of like Yankumi’s ridiculous enthusiasm. He had to stop being attracted to people so ridiculously different from himself.
“Take your coat off,” Shin said, getting to his feet. “You look ridiculous.”
--
He had the paycheck in his hand - his first pay period completed at the non-profit agency, his first pay period as a full-time employee. A few more of these, and he’d have enough to get his own apartment.
That was what Suzuki had figured apparently. When Sawada came in the door, Taiyo had bought him a huge bottle of beer - and gone through the trouble of making a “Congratulations Shin!” banner.
He was sitting at their table holding up his bottle expectantly. “Cheeeeeers!”
“It’s just a paycheck.”
“Well,” Suzuki looked down at his own bottle, picking at the label with the nail on his thumb. “You can...you’re finding your way, right?”
He took off his jacket, loosened the stupid tie. He had to dress nice, but at least he wasn’t working for a company without a soul. “I don’t know yet.”
“It’s a long commute though, right?” Sensei was very nervous - Shin almost felt guilty. He had no intentions of going anywhere, didn’t Taiyo know that?
“So?” Maybe he just wanted the teacher to say something first. Sawada Shin wasn’t a coward about most things but...
Suzuki set down his bottle and frowned. “I’m sorry. I should be happier for you.”
Making a giant banner with puffy paint wasn’t enough to prove a point then? He tapped the paper with his hand. “Thanks. Really.”
Suzuki got up, holding up a finger. “Just a second.” He watched Suzuki disappear into...Shin’s own room? Okay, that wasn’t happening. He followed, only to see the guy picking up a box from the bed. “Oh,” Taiyo said, seemingly surprised that Shin would follow.
“What the hell are you...?”
Taiyo held out the box. “I don’t know if it’s right, but I still felt bad. I figured that with your new job that you’d probably move, so I just thought...”
Shin opened the lid, and there was Adowele’s carved gift. He’d stuck it under his bed in a shoebox and forgotten about it after it was broken. It was glued a bit sloppily, but it had probably taken Taiyo hours to do it, especially without Shin finding out.
“I just made it worse, didn’t I?”
But he grinned, running his finger over the bits of glue that were visible from where Taiyo had stuck pieces back together. It was perfect.
“I’m not moving, okay?” He closed the box and set it on the bed. Taiyo watched him, cheeks pink from however many depression beers he’d downed before Shin had gotten home.
“You’re not?”
He and Taiyo made zero sense - as roommates, as friends, as anything, but Shin’s life up until now hadn’t made much sense.
Taiyo-sensei smelled faintly like play-doh and watercolors, but when their lips met, he tasted like beer and everything Shin needed. He wasn’t going anywhere.