[one-shot] Untitled
Title: Untitled
Type: One-shot
Word count: 2,517
Rating: PG-15
Pairing: Koyama/Shige
Summary: After a night of hard drinking Koyama and Shige succumb to their lust for each other. The morning after Koyama freaks out and shuts Shige out of his life as much as he can. Shige can't cope with the rejection.
Written for this prompt in the JE angst meme. Anon-san owns the plot and I can’t even think of a proper title for this.
It began like plenty other nights in the long history of Shige and Koyama’s friendship: the two of them having casual drinks while talking about the universe and everything. Koyama brought the drinks; Shige provided the place. The talk got a little heavy as Shige mourned the fact that NEWS hadn’t had any group activities for months. After that they lost count of how many glasses they drank, both sprawled on the living room carpet, backs against the sofa. Shige said he was going to the balcony to get some fresh air and hopefully clear his head, but when he got up he tripped over Koyama's feet and fell on top of his body.
There were awkward giggles, garbled apologies, before they inadvertently sought each other’s lips. Shige suddenly found himself straddling Koyama, who was flat on his back on the carpet. They exchanged breathless kisses and exploratory caresses, hands and mouths moving to various areas of each other’s bodies that they scarcely have ventured to before. There was no room for thought or hesitation as clothes became a nuisance and were tossed aside, exposing sweaty, burning skins. Later Shige would remember feeling like he was running to the top of a precipice and then plunging headlong into the sea, down, down the endless abyss before he finally hit the water and his whole being dissolved in a burst of ecstasy.
He woke up hours later, with a throbbing headache, to the sound of Koyama’s quiet sobbing. Supporting himself on an elbow, he saw the figure of his best friend sitting hunched with his back against him, shoulders shaking with every ripple of anguish. Patches of early morning sunlight was streaming through the window, making a play of shadows on Koyama’s bare skin. Shige sat up and slowly touched his shoulder. “Koyama... are you all right?” he asked, worried.
The older man flinched and turned around rapidly, arms hugging his exposed body as if he needed a shield. Tears were running unabatedly down his face, dripping from his chin and down to his neck. Something in his eyes made Shige’s blood turn cold. He shook his head, muttering in a shaky voice, “What in the world have we done...?”
“Koyama-” Shige tried taking his hand but he snatched it away, inching backward like he was afraid Shige might come too close. He groped around clumsily for his clothes and put it on with trembling fingers.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” he mumbled in frustration. “This should never have happened.”
Shige sat up, ignoring the incessant pounding in his temples and slowly moving closer to Koyama. “Just calm down for a moment. We can talk about this,” he pleaded.
Koyama didn’t answer, putting a hand on the sofa for support as he stood up with quivering legs. Shige got up after him and grabbed his arm. “Koyama, wait-”
“Don’t touch me!” he chucked Shige’s hand aside like it was something contagious, the force knocking Shige back to the floor. Shige stared up in disbelief, not recognizing his kindhearted friend in the person now standing before him. Koyama’s teary eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow, regret and something that looked a lot like contempt.
“Just... stay away from me, Shige,” he hissed, before turning on his heel and dashing out of the apartment. Shige was left sitting on the floor - cold, naked and feeling like his heart had just been wrenched right out of his chest.
Koyama shunned Shige ever since, refusing to answer his phone calls or open the door of his apartment for him. He tried as much as he can to avoid Shige at work, acting as if he didn’t exist. It was all cutting Shige up inside, and a man can only take so much. One day he couldn’t hold on any longer and went to Koyama’s apartment.
“It’s me,” he said to the intercom. “I know you’re in there. I’m gonna stay here until you open the door.”
He stood out there for what seemed like an eternity, ringing the doorbell repeatedly and knocking the door, calling Koyama’s name until he was hoarse. Just when he thought one of the neighbors would probably call security any minute, Koyama finally came out, his face pale, lips pursed like he was steeling himself to do something he hated. “What do you want?” he asked tersely.
“I just...” The words Shige had put together in his head all but scattered when he saw Koyama’s face. “I... I can’t take this anymore, Koyama. It hurts to have you not talking to me, avoiding me like a plague.”
His voice faltered, and he thought he saw Koyama’s lips trembling. The latter lifted his hand as if he wanted to touch Shige, but he stopped himself in time. “This isn’t right, Shige,” he whimpered.
“Look, we were both drunk. We didn’t know what we were doing. But can we at least talk about it, maybe work things out?” Shige stared searchingly into Koyama’s eyes, trying to find a trace of sympathy. When Koyama didn’t answer Shige stepped forward, wanting more than anything to touch him, to feel his reassuring hand in his. But Koyama shrank back from his reach.
“No!” he cried. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. What we did was wrong. It’s... it’s revolting.”
Shige was too astonished that he didn’t respond quick enough when Koyama slammed the door in his face. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he came home and saw his own tear-streaked face in the hallway mirror. He tore his eyes away from the unpleasant sight, and his gaze fell to a framed picture on a side table. An adolescent photo of himself and Koyama, smiling so cheerfully without any knowledge of how their relationship was going to become. He grabbed the picture and flung it across the room.
“He said I was revolting,” Shige told Massu. The latter had dragged Shige to go shopping together to cheer him up after seeing how gloomy he looked during a magazine shoot - the photographer had even complained when Shige couldn’t muster a single smile for the camera. But Massu had sensed that Shige needed someone to talk to, so they ended up having a long conversation over dinner at a restaurant. Or at least Massu was having dinner; Shige barely touched his food. He was grateful for Massu being a great listener, not judging him or making him feel too embarrassed about what he had to say.
Massu munched his pasta slowly, contemplating what Shige just said. “That doesn’t sound like Koyama.”
“Well, he didn’t actually say I was revolting. He was talking about what we did.” Shige smiled wryly. “But it’s just the same, isn’t it? He was disgusted because he was doing it with me.”
“I don’t think that’s the case.” Massu put down his fork and folded his hands under his chin. “I mean, think about it from his perspective. He’s been friends with you forever, probably thinks of you as family - as a brother. Now imagine one day you wake up and found you’ve slept with your own brother.” He winced a little. “I’m sorry to say, but it might feel a bit-”
“...revolting.” Shige sank into his chair. It didn’t even occur to him Koyama might feel that way. The expression on Koyama’s face that morning came back to him - guilty, conflicted, and sickened. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “What am I supposed to do, Massu?”
Massu shook his head sadly. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”
He was right, Shige realized. In fact, he already knew what he had to do, as much as he hated the thought. After parting with Massu he went to the studio where Koyama was on the air for his radio show tonight - Shige never got invited as a guest in that show anymore. He waited outside at the parking lot until Koyama got out, walking in brisk steps to his car before stopping at the sight of Shige.
“You don’t have to look so scared,” Shige muttered. “I’m not gonna do anything.”
Koyama dropped his gaze, the color in his cheeks visible even under the dim light of the street lamps. Shige immediately felt sorry for him, for the both of them for ending up like this. He took a huge gulp of air and said, “You won’t have to worry anymore. I’m not gonna bother you ever again.”
The older man looked up, blinking in surprise. “What...?”
“If what we did that night was so awful for you, then forget it ever happened. If you think I’m-” Shige choked up a little before managing to continue, “...if you find me revolting, then I’ll spare you the discomfort. I’ll disappear.”
“Shige, what are you saying?” There was alarm in Koyama’s voice.
“I’m saying I’m moving out of your life. You can forget we’ve ever known each other, forget we’ve been friends. We’ll strictly be band mates and nothing else. You can continue ignoring me all you want and I won’t complain.” He swallowed the tears that were forming in the back of his throat. “I just don’t want you to be unhappy.”
Koyama looked like he was soon going to burst to tears himself. “Shige-”
“Have a nice life, Koyama.” He turned around and walked away. He thought he heard Koyama calling to him faintly but he paid no heed to it, or maybe his head was too muddled that he was imagining things.
When he got home he went straight to his dark room and locked himself in. Normally he’d be creeped out if he stayed in there too long, but this time he welcomed the darkness, wishing he could lose himself in it so he wouldn’t have to feel the pain. He sank to the ground, folded his arms and buried his face in them, his whole body wracked with sobs.
He must’ve fallen asleep; because the next time he lifted his head he felt a terrible crick in his neck. As he massaged the back of his neck he thought he heard a weird background noise, like a thump-thump-thump on the wall. He listened more closely and this time heard someone’s voice amid the pounding, vaguely shouting his name. It sounded like... but that’s impossible.
He got up, stretching himself as he did so, and got out of the dark room. Shielding his eyes from the sudden glare of the living room light, he glanced at the clock and found he’d been inside for more than three hours. The thumping sound was clearer now, and Shige started as he registered what it really was. Someone was banging his door and desperately yelling his name. He’d recognize that voice anywhere: Koyama’s.
His heart throbbing wildly in his chest, Shige staggered to the door and unlocked it to find a breathless Koyama standing outside, his eyes bloodshot. “Oh, thank God,” he sighed before rushing to hold Shige in a tight embrace.
Shige didn’t know what was going on but he wasn’t going to complain, not when he had Koyama’s arms around him - something he thought he’d never experience again. He hugged Koyama back, breathing in his familiar scent and rubbing his body gently to stop him for shuddering.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Koyama croaked. “When you said you’ll disappear, I thought... I thought you were going to kill yourself.”
“What?” Shige loosened his hold on Koyama to get a look at his face. “Of course not. I’d never do that to you.”
A tear rolled down Koyama’s cheek, and then another one. His face was all scrunched up with sadness. “I’m scared, Shige,” his voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us.”
Shige put his hands on either side of Koyama’s face, gently wiping the tears with his fingertips. “I’m scared too,” he said. “But maybe if we face it together, it wouldn’t be so scary.” He paused for a moment before adding, in a cautious tone, “Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”
He waited nervously for Koyama to back away, to turn around and leave, but he didn’t. There was the same fear and uncertainty in his face that Shige had been seeing lately, but there was also earnestness, determination, and a softness that he dared to interpret as affection. He wrapped his arms around Shige again, this time more warmly, more passionately. His breath was hot in Shige’s ear when he said, “I do.”
They took things slowly, not wanting to rush in favor of letting things run naturally. It started with simple things like holding hands in a dark movie theater or exchanging light kisses before parting. They texted or talked to each other on the phone more frequently than they already have. Koyama would pick up Shige in his drama set. When he returned from one of his fishing trips, Shige would come to Koyama’s apartment to turn his day’s catch into a sumptuous dinner for two. He took to calling Koyama Kei, more so in private. Shige was still Shige to Koyama as always, but there was a different tone to his voice now, a subdued tenderness that caused a tingle in Shige’s stomach whenever he said the name.
They didn’t have sex again immediately. The first time they did it it nearly split them in two, so naturally they were wary of going that direction once more. For a while they satisfied themselves with cuddling together on the couch while watching a movie, or falling asleep in each other’s arms after dinner. Shige was doing just that on one particular night at Koyama’s place, and when he woke up he glanced at his watch and mumbled drowsily that it was time to go home. He was unwillingly extricating himself from the comfort of Koyama’s arms when he felt the older man seizing his hand.
“Don’t leave,” Koyama said huskily. “Let’s go to bed.”
Shige hesitated, wanting to ask if he was really sure about this, but his reservations fell to pieces when he saw the bulge in the front of Koyama’s pants and the dark look in his eyes. Koyama got up and led Shige by the hand to his bedroom, a much better place than a carpet on the floor.
Shige was glad his head wasn’t addled by alcohol so he could fully appreciate the wonderful things he missed the last time: the sweat glistening on Koyama's face, a birthmark on his waist and another on his upper left arm, the way his torso arched, the shape of his lips when he was murmuring Shige's name. Shige tried to savor it and make it last longer, but soon he couldn’t hold himself back. He reached the peak while crying out words of love, and Koyama followed not long after.
Later, as they drifted to sleep holding on to each other, Shige silently thanked heaven above for allowing him this luxury, though it might have taken a roundabout way to get to it.
Type: One-shot
Word count: 2,517
Rating: PG-15
Pairing: Koyama/Shige
Summary: After a night of hard drinking Koyama and Shige succumb to their lust for each other. The morning after Koyama freaks out and shuts Shige out of his life as much as he can. Shige can't cope with the rejection.
Written for this prompt in the JE angst meme. Anon-san owns the plot and I can’t even think of a proper title for this.
It began like plenty other nights in the long history of Shige and Koyama’s friendship: the two of them having casual drinks while talking about the universe and everything. Koyama brought the drinks; Shige provided the place. The talk got a little heavy as Shige mourned the fact that NEWS hadn’t had any group activities for months. After that they lost count of how many glasses they drank, both sprawled on the living room carpet, backs against the sofa. Shige said he was going to the balcony to get some fresh air and hopefully clear his head, but when he got up he tripped over Koyama's feet and fell on top of his body.
There were awkward giggles, garbled apologies, before they inadvertently sought each other’s lips. Shige suddenly found himself straddling Koyama, who was flat on his back on the carpet. They exchanged breathless kisses and exploratory caresses, hands and mouths moving to various areas of each other’s bodies that they scarcely have ventured to before. There was no room for thought or hesitation as clothes became a nuisance and were tossed aside, exposing sweaty, burning skins. Later Shige would remember feeling like he was running to the top of a precipice and then plunging headlong into the sea, down, down the endless abyss before he finally hit the water and his whole being dissolved in a burst of ecstasy.
He woke up hours later, with a throbbing headache, to the sound of Koyama’s quiet sobbing. Supporting himself on an elbow, he saw the figure of his best friend sitting hunched with his back against him, shoulders shaking with every ripple of anguish. Patches of early morning sunlight was streaming through the window, making a play of shadows on Koyama’s bare skin. Shige sat up and slowly touched his shoulder. “Koyama... are you all right?” he asked, worried.
The older man flinched and turned around rapidly, arms hugging his exposed body as if he needed a shield. Tears were running unabatedly down his face, dripping from his chin and down to his neck. Something in his eyes made Shige’s blood turn cold. He shook his head, muttering in a shaky voice, “What in the world have we done...?”
“Koyama-” Shige tried taking his hand but he snatched it away, inching backward like he was afraid Shige might come too close. He groped around clumsily for his clothes and put it on with trembling fingers.
“We shouldn’t have done this,” he mumbled in frustration. “This should never have happened.”
Shige sat up, ignoring the incessant pounding in his temples and slowly moving closer to Koyama. “Just calm down for a moment. We can talk about this,” he pleaded.
Koyama didn’t answer, putting a hand on the sofa for support as he stood up with quivering legs. Shige got up after him and grabbed his arm. “Koyama, wait-”
“Don’t touch me!” he chucked Shige’s hand aside like it was something contagious, the force knocking Shige back to the floor. Shige stared up in disbelief, not recognizing his kindhearted friend in the person now standing before him. Koyama’s teary eyes were filled with a mix of sorrow, regret and something that looked a lot like contempt.
“Just... stay away from me, Shige,” he hissed, before turning on his heel and dashing out of the apartment. Shige was left sitting on the floor - cold, naked and feeling like his heart had just been wrenched right out of his chest.
Koyama shunned Shige ever since, refusing to answer his phone calls or open the door of his apartment for him. He tried as much as he can to avoid Shige at work, acting as if he didn’t exist. It was all cutting Shige up inside, and a man can only take so much. One day he couldn’t hold on any longer and went to Koyama’s apartment.
“It’s me,” he said to the intercom. “I know you’re in there. I’m gonna stay here until you open the door.”
He stood out there for what seemed like an eternity, ringing the doorbell repeatedly and knocking the door, calling Koyama’s name until he was hoarse. Just when he thought one of the neighbors would probably call security any minute, Koyama finally came out, his face pale, lips pursed like he was steeling himself to do something he hated. “What do you want?” he asked tersely.
“I just...” The words Shige had put together in his head all but scattered when he saw Koyama’s face. “I... I can’t take this anymore, Koyama. It hurts to have you not talking to me, avoiding me like a plague.”
His voice faltered, and he thought he saw Koyama’s lips trembling. The latter lifted his hand as if he wanted to touch Shige, but he stopped himself in time. “This isn’t right, Shige,” he whimpered.
“Look, we were both drunk. We didn’t know what we were doing. But can we at least talk about it, maybe work things out?” Shige stared searchingly into Koyama’s eyes, trying to find a trace of sympathy. When Koyama didn’t answer Shige stepped forward, wanting more than anything to touch him, to feel his reassuring hand in his. But Koyama shrank back from his reach.
“No!” he cried. “I’m sorry, but I can’t. What we did was wrong. It’s... it’s revolting.”
Shige was too astonished that he didn’t respond quick enough when Koyama slammed the door in his face. He didn’t even realize he was crying until he came home and saw his own tear-streaked face in the hallway mirror. He tore his eyes away from the unpleasant sight, and his gaze fell to a framed picture on a side table. An adolescent photo of himself and Koyama, smiling so cheerfully without any knowledge of how their relationship was going to become. He grabbed the picture and flung it across the room.
“He said I was revolting,” Shige told Massu. The latter had dragged Shige to go shopping together to cheer him up after seeing how gloomy he looked during a magazine shoot - the photographer had even complained when Shige couldn’t muster a single smile for the camera. But Massu had sensed that Shige needed someone to talk to, so they ended up having a long conversation over dinner at a restaurant. Or at least Massu was having dinner; Shige barely touched his food. He was grateful for Massu being a great listener, not judging him or making him feel too embarrassed about what he had to say.
Massu munched his pasta slowly, contemplating what Shige just said. “That doesn’t sound like Koyama.”
“Well, he didn’t actually say I was revolting. He was talking about what we did.” Shige smiled wryly. “But it’s just the same, isn’t it? He was disgusted because he was doing it with me.”
“I don’t think that’s the case.” Massu put down his fork and folded his hands under his chin. “I mean, think about it from his perspective. He’s been friends with you forever, probably thinks of you as family - as a brother. Now imagine one day you wake up and found you’ve slept with your own brother.” He winced a little. “I’m sorry to say, but it might feel a bit-”
“...revolting.” Shige sank into his chair. It didn’t even occur to him Koyama might feel that way. The expression on Koyama’s face that morning came back to him - guilty, conflicted, and sickened. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “What am I supposed to do, Massu?”
Massu shook his head sadly. “I don’t think I can tell you that.”
He was right, Shige realized. In fact, he already knew what he had to do, as much as he hated the thought. After parting with Massu he went to the studio where Koyama was on the air for his radio show tonight - Shige never got invited as a guest in that show anymore. He waited outside at the parking lot until Koyama got out, walking in brisk steps to his car before stopping at the sight of Shige.
“You don’t have to look so scared,” Shige muttered. “I’m not gonna do anything.”
Koyama dropped his gaze, the color in his cheeks visible even under the dim light of the street lamps. Shige immediately felt sorry for him, for the both of them for ending up like this. He took a huge gulp of air and said, “You won’t have to worry anymore. I’m not gonna bother you ever again.”
The older man looked up, blinking in surprise. “What...?”
“If what we did that night was so awful for you, then forget it ever happened. If you think I’m-” Shige choked up a little before managing to continue, “...if you find me revolting, then I’ll spare you the discomfort. I’ll disappear.”
“Shige, what are you saying?” There was alarm in Koyama’s voice.
“I’m saying I’m moving out of your life. You can forget we’ve ever known each other, forget we’ve been friends. We’ll strictly be band mates and nothing else. You can continue ignoring me all you want and I won’t complain.” He swallowed the tears that were forming in the back of his throat. “I just don’t want you to be unhappy.”
Koyama looked like he was soon going to burst to tears himself. “Shige-”
“Have a nice life, Koyama.” He turned around and walked away. He thought he heard Koyama calling to him faintly but he paid no heed to it, or maybe his head was too muddled that he was imagining things.
When he got home he went straight to his dark room and locked himself in. Normally he’d be creeped out if he stayed in there too long, but this time he welcomed the darkness, wishing he could lose himself in it so he wouldn’t have to feel the pain. He sank to the ground, folded his arms and buried his face in them, his whole body wracked with sobs.
He must’ve fallen asleep; because the next time he lifted his head he felt a terrible crick in his neck. As he massaged the back of his neck he thought he heard a weird background noise, like a thump-thump-thump on the wall. He listened more closely and this time heard someone’s voice amid the pounding, vaguely shouting his name. It sounded like... but that’s impossible.
He got up, stretching himself as he did so, and got out of the dark room. Shielding his eyes from the sudden glare of the living room light, he glanced at the clock and found he’d been inside for more than three hours. The thumping sound was clearer now, and Shige started as he registered what it really was. Someone was banging his door and desperately yelling his name. He’d recognize that voice anywhere: Koyama’s.
His heart throbbing wildly in his chest, Shige staggered to the door and unlocked it to find a breathless Koyama standing outside, his eyes bloodshot. “Oh, thank God,” he sighed before rushing to hold Shige in a tight embrace.
Shige didn’t know what was going on but he wasn’t going to complain, not when he had Koyama’s arms around him - something he thought he’d never experience again. He hugged Koyama back, breathing in his familiar scent and rubbing his body gently to stop him for shuddering.
“I’m so glad you’re all right,” Koyama croaked. “When you said you’ll disappear, I thought... I thought you were going to kill yourself.”
“What?” Shige loosened his hold on Koyama to get a look at his face. “Of course not. I’d never do that to you.”
A tear rolled down Koyama’s cheek, and then another one. His face was all scrunched up with sadness. “I’m scared, Shige,” his voice was barely louder than a whisper. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen to us.”
Shige put his hands on either side of Koyama’s face, gently wiping the tears with his fingertips. “I’m scared too,” he said. “But maybe if we face it together, it wouldn’t be so scary.” He paused for a moment before adding, in a cautious tone, “Unless, of course, you don’t want to.”
He waited nervously for Koyama to back away, to turn around and leave, but he didn’t. There was the same fear and uncertainty in his face that Shige had been seeing lately, but there was also earnestness, determination, and a softness that he dared to interpret as affection. He wrapped his arms around Shige again, this time more warmly, more passionately. His breath was hot in Shige’s ear when he said, “I do.”
They took things slowly, not wanting to rush in favor of letting things run naturally. It started with simple things like holding hands in a dark movie theater or exchanging light kisses before parting. They texted or talked to each other on the phone more frequently than they already have. Koyama would pick up Shige in his drama set. When he returned from one of his fishing trips, Shige would come to Koyama’s apartment to turn his day’s catch into a sumptuous dinner for two. He took to calling Koyama Kei, more so in private. Shige was still Shige to Koyama as always, but there was a different tone to his voice now, a subdued tenderness that caused a tingle in Shige’s stomach whenever he said the name.
They didn’t have sex again immediately. The first time they did it it nearly split them in two, so naturally they were wary of going that direction once more. For a while they satisfied themselves with cuddling together on the couch while watching a movie, or falling asleep in each other’s arms after dinner. Shige was doing just that on one particular night at Koyama’s place, and when he woke up he glanced at his watch and mumbled drowsily that it was time to go home. He was unwillingly extricating himself from the comfort of Koyama’s arms when he felt the older man seizing his hand.
“Don’t leave,” Koyama said huskily. “Let’s go to bed.”
Shige hesitated, wanting to ask if he was really sure about this, but his reservations fell to pieces when he saw the bulge in the front of Koyama’s pants and the dark look in his eyes. Koyama got up and led Shige by the hand to his bedroom, a much better place than a carpet on the floor.
Shige was glad his head wasn’t addled by alcohol so he could fully appreciate the wonderful things he missed the last time: the sweat glistening on Koyama's face, a birthmark on his waist and another on his upper left arm, the way his torso arched, the shape of his lips when he was murmuring Shige's name. Shige tried to savor it and make it last longer, but soon he couldn’t hold himself back. He reached the peak while crying out words of love, and Koyama followed not long after.
Later, as they drifted to sleep holding on to each other, Shige silently thanked heaven above for allowing him this luxury, though it might have taken a roundabout way to get to it.