"Language Barriers Do Not Apply" Chapter Nine
Title: Language Barriers Do Not Apply
Chapter: 9/12
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Matsumoto Jun/Zac Efron, Sho --> Jun, implied past Jun --> Sho
Rating: T
Warnings: Language, implied situations.
Summary: What had been a one-time thing has turned into ... not a one-time thing. And they aren't the only ones involved.
Zac’s hands were still shaking in his pockets as they entered the restaurant. For a little bit of excitement, Jun had decided they’d take the train from his apartment to Shibuya. Nobody had recognized them, or at the very least, nobody had dared approach them. Then again, it was a chilly night, and most of the faces on the train had been focused downward anyhow in between drafty station platforms.
They took off their shoes and were escorted to a traditional table with floor seating. “I need back support,” Zac mumbled, trying to settle his legs as best as he could. Jun looked perfectly comfortable across from him, but this was something people were used to over here.
Jun’s sadistic side showed again as he smiled. “You sound like an old man.” A server brought some hot tea over, and they sipped it. Despite the noisy, busy neighborhood outside, the restaurant was rather quiet. Zac was able to look around and out the windows to see the street. He was glad to be out of the cold with a warm drink.
-------
It was cold enough here. He was almost pleased that he wasn’t shivering up north at some ski lodge with people he hadn’t really seen in over ten years. For all that he knew he was a well-adjusted, well-respected normal human being, Sho wondered what the hell was wrong with him.
He was in a heavy coat and knit cap sitting across the street from the Mikura restaurant. And he was just watching. He’d overheard Zac and Jun talking in the cab the night before. Sho rarely forgot anything he’d read, and he couldn't help remembering a story in the paper. Some young idol had ruined her reputation the other week by meeting with a married man at some restaurant in this neighborhood. There were paparazzi crawling all over the fancy spots in the area - the bitter cold wouldn’t keep them away.
If anyone approached Mikura, then Sho would see them for sure. And then he could charge across the street, go in and hopefully approach Jun’s table as if he’d been expected all along. It was a pretty stupid plan, but he remembered the photos plastered all over the newspaper, the man’s wife in a teary interview, the idol’s agency canceling her contract instead of releasing an apology.
For all that he and the other members might have been dogged by paparazzi in their long careers, the last kind of scandal they needed was ladykiller Matsumoto Jun having a romantic meal with another man. It would explode, and Sho cared way too much about his friend to let it happen.
He rubbed his hands together, doing his best to peer through the glass. Jun and Zac had a table just past the one at the window. Not the best angle for a paparazzo, but they had fancy lenses and things now. His ass was probably going to freeze to the bench, but Sho wasn’t going anywhere.
--------
They were onto the appetizers now, and Zac was doing okay. Jun was nervous about any meal after the sashimi problem he’d had on his last visit. So long as the other man kept his sake intake down, he’d probably be okay.
It was so much better having Zac at his apartment. No threat of maids knocking on the door at the very least. They’d spent most of the day in and out of his bed, and they’d only ventured out for this dinner. He wondered if Zac wanted to go see more of Tokyo, but he’d voiced no complaints so far. Maybe they’d go to Tokyo Tower after dinner, see all the lights. Even with the awkwardness at Aiba’s the night before, it had been a very satisfying few days.
Being with Zac, occasional communication misfires aside, was exciting. A sneaky handhold on the train ride, trying to see who would look away from the other first while they ate...things like this kept the both of them on their toes. He tried for a bit of English. “If you put jersey in trash, I not going to tell Aiba.”
Zac laughed at that, taking a bite of his omelet. “I like the jersey.”
“Like it better on my floor.”
Zac’s eyes widened at that, and he brought a finger to his lips. “Someone will hear you.”
Jun shrugged. “They don’t know what we talking about.”
------
Something was funny, Sho noticed as Zac seemed to be laughing at whatever Jun had said. This wasn’t right. He’d been sitting here in the cold for the better part of an hour already, munching on some crappy sandwich he’d gotten from a convenience store by the train station. Having to watch other people eat really good food was taking its toll already.
But he wasn’t budging. For as much as he didn’t enjoy thinking too hard about the life Zac led back in America, their brief conversation from the night before wasn’t sitting well with him. The man had been fidgety and jittery hanging up his phone. He’d probably thought that Sho was Jun exiting the house - what on his phone would he have to hide anyhow? American celebrities were always getting into trouble. Not that the Japanese were infallible, but the American tabloids were ruthless in digging up dirt.
And not that Sho liked reading tabloids, but he was a researcher. He’d done his share of digging on Zac. Made sure he didn’t have some drug habit or something that would really damage Jun’s reputation. Sho’s search hadn’t uncovered anything but a bitter break-up with a girlfriend, not too long after the first time he’d been in Japan. Not that the American tabloids knew what the reason was. But Sho didn’t want them to ever find out.
He sat glumly, watching the way Jun and Zac unconsciously leaned forward while they talked, the casual and reckless way they let their fingers brush as they clinked glasses or passed dishes of sauce. He should walk away, let Jun fight his own battles. But he just couldn’t bear the thought of Jun facing scandal. He’d accomplished so much, and his acting career was really taking off. Even whispers could be damning.
He shoved the empty sandwich wrapper in his pocket and groaned as Zac reached across the table to dab at Jun’s face. “You’re just asking for it,” Sho muttered.
------
There was sauce at the corner of Jun’s mouth and his first instinct had been to get rid of it, but here he was in a crowded restaurant wiping his finger across another man’s lips. He snatched his hand back, blushing furiously.
“That was...really really dumb.”
Jun patted his mouth with his napkin. “It’s okay. Just keep eating.” As soon as Zac took a drink from his water glass, Jun struck again. “You can touch my mouth all you want soon enough.”
Zac choked, the water going down the wrong pipe while Jun chuckled. “You’re a real bastard tonight,” he complained as soon as he could breathe properly again.
But Jun was all smiles, carefree and happy. A far cry from the knot of tension that still sat in Zac’s stomach. With every smile, it twisted his gut, reminding him of how easily he’d let Vanessa come back into his life. But it was a one time thing, and it wasn’t like he expected Jun to be some saint without him.
Their food arrived, and Jun had gotten some pork that looked damn good. Not that Zac’s food was bad, it wasn’t. It was amazing, but he could smell Jun’s food, and it didn’t take long for the other man to notice. Jun picked up a small piece with his chopsticks and held it about halfway. It seemed that Zac would have to lean to get it.
-----
Someone emerged from the store behind him, having a pretty hushed conversation on his cell phone. “No, I don’t know who the other guy is, but that has to be the pretty one from Arashi.”
Sho felt his tension rise. He glanced across to see Jun letting Zac eat something off of his chopsticks. “MatsuJun, you idiot,” he grumbled under his breath, but otherwise stayed still as the man behind him leaned against a light pole and pulled a camera from his bag while he continued babbling on the phone.
“Yeah yeah, it’s probably nothing, but that’s what they said about-”
Sho ignored the conversation, instead focusing on Jun and Zac in the restaurant. Act like friends, he begged them. Just act like friends already and stop giving them ammunition.
He heard the camera turn on, and his heart sank.
------
“Okay okay, that’s enough,” Zac said, leaning back and going for his own food. He wasn’t used to other people feeding him, especially in a public restaurant.
Jun smirked. “Well?”
“Well what?” Zac asked, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. Jun laughed again, and Zac figured it out. “Oh I guess I could share.”
He moved the chopsticks forward a few inches. Jun was really going to have to lean across the table for it. As he did so, the other man’s fingers locked around his wrist as he brought his mouth to the food.
-------
Sho began tapping his foot with each click of the camera just to his right. He probably just looked like some vagrant or some guy waiting for some delinquent friend. That would be to his advantage. Jun was being an idiot, plain and simple, but one fuck up in ten years wasn’t worth the reaction it would get. Matsumoto Jun would be ruined.
Damn it, damn it, damn it, he thought. His body was working far faster than his brain as he pulled up his hood, and pushed up the collar of his coat to cover most of his mouth. He was as anonymous as he was going to get. The second he’d seen Jun’s hand wrap around Zac’s arm, he’d decided to do something completely fucking stupid.
He rose from the bench. The photographer was completely absorbed in his work, and Sho took a deep breath. Stupid, stupid, stupid, just do it. He charged at the photographer, yanking the camera away and holding it close like a rugby ball.
“Hey!” the photographer shouted, and some other people in the street noticed as Sho ran off as fast as he possibly could, which was pretty damn fast when he was scared out of his mind.
--------
“Hey!”
Zac’s grip on the chopsticks loosened, and the food dropped to the table. Jun blinked, letting Zac go to look out the window. Some guy was shouting to anyone who would listen. There was no soundproofing in the world keeping this guy quiet.
“-stole my fucking camera!” Jun heard, and his blood ran a bit cold. A thief in the neighborhood? Or something worse?
“What’s happening?” Zac asked, grabbing his hand almost like a reflex.
Jun slipped his fingers away from Zac. “Don’t, not now.”
“Police! I need the police! That bastard took my camera!”
--------
The lights blurred as he ran through the street, ducking into an alley and continuing off. He could hear the guy’s screams from behind him. Nobody had even tried to stop him, and the paparazzi didn’t seem to be chasing him. Sho’s lungs hurt as he kept moving, weaving in and out of streets and alleys and crowds like some common thief.
You have a degree from Keio, he thought angrily as he pushed the camera into his coat pocket. You report the news on television. You went to the god damn Olympics, he berated himself as he made it to the nearest subway station, finally slowing his steps.
As he waited on the platform, he checked over his shoulder at least twenty times. Nobody had followed and nobody had recognized him. The camera, proof of Jun and Zac’s dinner, was burning a hole in his pocket.
But he’d done it. He’d saved Jun.
He’d call Jun tomorrow. He’d give him the memory card or something. Because there was no way he could keep risking his neck for him, and Jun needed to understand the weight of his actions. Whatever Sho said meant little - but seeing photographic proof of what might have happened could possibly change his mind.
The subway car doors opened and he headed inside, feeling the weight of the camera inside his coat. He’d saved Jun, but at what cost?
--------
Zac's heart was still racing when they got back to Jun's apartment. He didn't know what had gone on outside the restaurant- all they could hear was the shouting of the man whose camera was stolen, and couldn't see anything from the glare reflecting the images within back at them, but he got the gist of it; something had gone down, something bad, and he didn't know what it concerned or who it was about. It made him very nervous, even though he tried to brush the whole thing off as no big deal.
Jun hadn't said much, either, but by the set of his jaw and the tightness in his mouth, Zac assumed that he felt the same way.
They didn't say anything for a long while, stripping off their coats and shoes by the door and slowly making their way inside. The clicking from the clock on the opposite wall was deafening in the silence.
"Sorry," Jun said, finally, breaking the silence a bit awkwardly. "About- it was weird, right?"
"Stuff happens," Zac replied.
"I thought we'd go out tonight, to see Tokyo Tower maybe," the other man continued, frowning. He bit his lower lip in obvious thought, eyes focused somewhere beyond Zac's shoulder, at nothing and everything.
"Maybe it's not a good idea anymore," Zac said.
"Yeah," came Jun's response.
There was another pause, and Zac moved forward to wrap his arms around the other man. He felt better like that, wrapped up in Jun's scent- untouchable. Invincible. Jun's arms looped around his shoulders, fingers splayed across his back, and they just stayed like that for a long while, listening to the ticking of the clock and the howling wind outside, to the rhythmic heartbeats between their forms.
"Maybe we should just stay in bed tonight," Jun whispered, breath picking up pieces of Zac's hair and twirling them a bit.
"Mm," Zac voiced his affirmative. He raised his head to meet Jun's mouth. It was slow, languid; he wasn't in any hurry, not anymore, and he wasn't even sure what he wanted. The gentleness to the motion surprised him, and if it surprised Jun, the other man did well not to show it. Usually everything was so rushed, so heady, mimicking the fire in his veins, but now-
-he just felt like he wanted to revel in it a bit.
Jun kissed him back, hands brushing the sides of Zac's faces, his cheeks, his jawline. Every touch was planned, carefully thought-out- just light touches against the skin that moved constantly.
Jun moved, pressing his weight against Zac in an obvious attempt to get Zac himself to back up. Together they moved through the bedroom door, and Zac fell backwards onto the comforter- he wasn't even sure why they bothered to make the bed before they left for dinner, since there had been only hours they hadn't really been in it. He broke away from the kiss to move the blankets back down and slip underneath. It was cold, and inifinitely warmer within the sheets, and even though they were both fully clothed, it felt like the right thing to do.
He waited until Jun joined him, and then kissed him again, slipping his arm around the other man's waist to pull him closer. Unhurried, not seeking- just being, for once, in the moment without any other agenda.
It had been a long time since he'd felt like he didn't need to hurry with someone.
He'd forgotten how much he loved the feeling.
"How's your stomach?" Jun murmured in Japanese, between kisses, between long breaths interlaced with whispered sighs.
"Fine," Zac half-laughed against his mouth.
"Good," came the response, accompanied by fingers running down his arm like the trickle of falling rain. Zac just kissed him harder, over and over, until he was sure that his lips were swollen and red. Jun ran his hands through his hair, sighing against his chin.
"I'm glad you came," he whispered. With the absence of sound, and the wind outside, it sounded sensual- meaningful. Like maybe it was one of those moments that Zac would always remember, one of those times he would look back on someday and still get the same twinge of nerves in his stomach, the same knot in his throat.
"Me, too," Zac replied, kissing Jun's jaw-line.
Jun pulled back a bit to let their foreheads rest together, against the mound of pillows at the head of the blankets.
"It doesn't feel like we had enough time," he mused, continuing to run his fingers through the strands of Zac's hair.
"It never feels like enough," Zac sighed.
The other man smiled a bit, like he was laughing at a private joke, and his hand stopped moving for a second.
"I feel like I should know more about you," he chuckled. His hand fell away from Zac's hair to rest on his waist, on his hip, gently playing with the material of Zac's shirt there.
"Like what?" Zac asked.
"If you have any pets," Jun said. "Your favorite color. What you wanted to be when you were little."
Zac tried to ignore the pleased, fluttering butterflies in his stomach- he wasn't sixteen anymore, and yet there they were all over again.
"That's relationship stuff," he said, the words catching on his tongue a bit.
Jun looked thoughtful for a moment, staring at where his hand was resting on Zac's hip.
"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess it is."
Unable to stop himself, Zac leaned forward to kiss him again.
"No pets," he mumbled against Jun's mouth, between kisses, between explorations and melting softness. "Green. An astronaut."
"Mm," Jun said, nipping at Zac's lower lip. "Space is a long way away."
"Yes it is," Zac agreed, sighing. Jun ran his tongue across his lip, slowly. The other man shifted, moving up, sliding his weight on top of Zac's. It was so much warmer wrapped up in each other, legs curling and entwining together.
Jun kissed his ear, his neck, breathing against his skin.
"I don't think I'm alright with you going into space," he said.
"I guess you'll have to come with me," Zac answered. Jun's hands roved under his shirt, skimming across his skin; Zac helped him to shrug the article off, grabbing Jun's shirt afterwards and tugging it over his head.
Jun's mouth was hot against his stomach.
"It takes awhile to get there," he murmured.
"We've got time," Zac hissed in response. There was a hand on his navel, on his stomach- and then Jun's mouth was back on his again, demanding more. A hand moved along the side of his waist, across the bone, and then paused, inches away from the top of his jeans.
Jun pulled away, face so close Zac could still feel the heat of his breath.
"Do you-?" he asked, in a single breath, in a rush, unable to finish. He didn't really need to- Zac thought mybe he'd been expecting the question for a long time. It seemed obvious, didn't it? It was odder that they'd never taken that last step than it was to voice the inquiry, odd that neither of them had asked, neither had brought it up. Jun's fingers were brushing gingerly over his abdomen.
He'd known what the answer was before he'd thought about the question in the first place.
"Yes," he said.
And Jun kissed him again, again and again, and they did have time. They had all night- they had each other, and really, that was all that mattered, as the snow pelted against the windowpane outside.
-------
Even though he was technically still on vacation, he’d only managed to spend two days at home before he couldn’t take it any longer. Sitting around the house just made him think about the stupid decision he’d made. The photographer’s camera was still in his coat pocket, and he hadn’t moved it since he’d gotten home.
For all that he thought Jun’s thought process had been muddled since Zac’s arrival, Sho was beginning to think that his own wasn’t all that clear either. He’d committed theft after loitering - okay, stalking on a cold night. He’d told himself that night that he’d done all this for Jun’s sake, but this was just beyond idiotic.
And thus he was at work, clicking through websites and news articles to research for a new Zero segment. The offices were quiet since many people were off on holiday themselves. Focusing his attention on politics and financial issues helped get Jun and the thought of the paparazzi off his mind, but it was already dark and his eyes ached from staring at a computer monitor for the better part of a day. From the dinner conversation at Aiba’s the other day, he knew that today was Zac’s last in Japan.
Tonight he’d do it.
He rubbed his eyes, and the tables and data points on the screen started to blur together. There was no way he’d get anything worthwhile together at this rate. Packing up his things, he said good night to the few who were still working. He couldn’t help patting the pocket of his coat as he entered the elevator.
There was no knowing if Jun would even be home, but he didn’t feel like calling ahead and getting hung up on. The train ride from the TV studios wasn’t as long as the train ride to Aiba’s had been the other night. He didn’t have as much time to prepare what he was going to say. He could just hand over the camera and leave without saying anything, but that kind of stuff wouldn’t go over well with someone like Jun.
He paced in the building entryway for a few minutes. He called his manager to confirm his schedule for the following week, killed more time by responding to some random texts from Aiba, and then walked around the block in the cold before finally gathering the courage to ring the buzzer for Jun’s apartment.
“Yes?” came Jun’s voice a few seconds later, perfectly calm and relaxed. Well, it wouldn’t be for much longer, Sho figured.
“It’s Sho. Can I come up?”
There was a pause, as he’d expected. “I have a phone. I have email.”
“This can’t wait. Can I please come up?”
The only response he got was the buzzer to open the door, and he entered quickly, making his way to the elevator. He was at Jun’s door within no time, and his hands were sweaty as he knocked.
Jun actually answered the door with rubber gloves on. “I was scrubbing the bathtub,” Sho learned, seeing Jun with sleeves rolled up and a thin band holding his hair away from his face. He looked like a housewife.
“Sorry.”
“Come in. You won’t leave me alone so I may as well hear you out.”
It seemed that his friend was in an interesting mood. But as soon as the truth came out, Sho could see the mood changing. He slipped his shoes off and followed Jun back into the apartment. Before the other man could get back to his cleaning (since Sho wasn’t exactly a planned guest), Sho caught him by the elbow.
“Look, you’re not going to like this...”
“That’s a good start,” Jun complained, leaning back against his counter as Sho took his fingers away from the other man’s warm skin.
With the heavy coat in the warm apartment, he was already sweating, but if Jun was going to throw him out, he’d only have time to grab his shoes before leaving. He couldn’t just toss his coat on the rack. He shakily took the camera from his pocket and set it down on the kitchen counter just next to where Jun was leaning.
He went for honesty. “I’m not proud of what I had to do to get this, nor am I proud of the fact that I was there in the first place so-”
“Wait a second,” Jun said, picking up the camera and inspecting it. “You...oh no way. Sho, don’t even-”
“Yeah, it was me. Outside of Mikura. Look, I can explain. Sort of.”
“You were following me? Following us?” he spat, setting the camera back down roughly. “You listened to our conversation in the cab and then you sat outside like a pervert watching us?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?” Jun moved forward, nearly knocking Sho back against the cool metal doors of the refrigerator. He wasn’t that much taller, but when Jun was mad, he tended to make others shrink. “It’s obvious that you stole a camera. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“With me?” he managed to say, the handle for the refrigerator door poking him in the back hard. “That guy was taking pictures of you!”
“So what? We were eating dinner!” Jun poked him with a rubber gloved finger. “You had a perfect view I’m sure!”
Sho looked down. “I said I’m not proud of it.” He pushed back a bit, close enough to feel Jun’s breath on his face. “Hate me all you want, but look at the damn pictures and convince yourself that you weren’t putting yourself at risk. Look at them and imagine that plastered all over the front pages.”
Jun didn’t back down and even with his hair back and smelling like cleaning supplies, Sho was just waiting for Jun to punch him. His heart was racing, and he was going to pass out from the warmth, the smell and from his own fear. Even if Ohno was their leader, Sho was the “mother” of their group, wasn’t he? Looking after the younger ones? He’d been watching out for Matsujun since they’d hit puberty. Then why did this feel like something more than simple concern?
“You work too hard to let some morally bankrupt photographer ruin you, Ma-chan,” he mumbled earnestly. “People won’t know what to think. They’ll see this, they’ll judge you on this. They’ll ignore everything you’ve accomplished over a stupid picture.”
Finally, Jun got out of his face, leaning back to take off the gloves and grab the camera. The only sound for the next few minutes was their breathing and Jun turning the camera on. Sho could only stand there, numb, as Jun’s face grew pale as he clicked through whatever was saved on the camera’s memory card.
The camera beeped as Jun shut it off, taking off the back of it and yanking out the tiny little card. It was the size of Sho’s thumbnail, but it held the potential of ruining Jun’s reputation entirely. “I don’t like what you did. And I’m honestly not sure what I think about you right now,” Jun announced, rummaging through his kitchen drawers like a man possessed.
“I get that.”
Jun gave up, finally dropping the card in the garbage disposal part of his sink and turning it on. Sho listened to the satisfying sound of the tiny card getting ground up. Jun turned around and to Sho’s utter surprise, settled his hands on his shoulders. “I don’t like it. But thank you.”
Sho felt sick to his stomach. His skin was clammy, and he stumbled over his words. “I just don’t want...I would never want you to have to-”
Jun gave him a shake. “I know that. I know. I’m sorry I’ve been such trouble for you.”
Whatever Jun was saying, it really wasn’t registering. Sho could only focus on Jun’s hands shaking some sense back into him. “No trouble,” he mumbled. “Okay, plenty of trouble.”
Jun actually laughed, playfully smacking him in the head. “I have to clean. We’ll talk later, alright? I’m sick of Nino thinking we’re some old married couple.”
Sho didn’t know why that made him feel so funny, but he needed air. Jun gave him a shove back towards the door, waiting patiently while he stumbled back into his shoes. He made it into the hall, with Jun leaning against the doorframe.
“Thanks. For the camera, I mean. I’m not going to...” Jun fidgeted. “I’ll be more careful.”
“You do that. I’ll see you.”
“Good night.” The door closed, and Sho exhaled. He’d made it out of there without a well-deserved black eye. Hell, Jun had almost embraced him.
As he walked out of the apartment building, he felt like some weight had been lifted from him. There was probably not much he could do to split Jun up from Zac, but he’d done whatever had been in his power to make sure his friend could stay happy.
If only he could have seen what was coming.
-------
It had been a very long day.
Ashley had been in the studio for hours recording songs for her new album. Her throat was raw, her head was throbbing, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse on her couch with a cup of herbal tea and a good movie. She had three voice mails- checking the call log, two were from her agent, didn't he know that she was busy today?- and a slew of text messages, and she didn't even want to look at her email inbox. She knew all the time she was putting in would be well worth it, but at the moment she just wanted to sleep.
The streets were jam-packed with people, and the commute home took longer than normal, and by the time she walked in through her front door, she was too annoyed to even bother cooking herself dinner. She dialed the Thai number she knew by heart and ordered a quick-take out instead, settling down into the throw pillows on her loveseat with a content sigh.
Flipping open her phone, she scrolled through the text messages. Her mom, a friend from high school, Corbin, Vanessa-
Curious, she clicked on Vanessa's. She hadn't heard much from the other girl in awhile; they'd both been busy with filming and obligations, and she hadn't really realized how much time had passed since she'd last received a phone call.
I need to talk to you. -V
Cryptic, vague, and honestly, going to have to wait until Ashley had gotten enough rest to deal with girl-drama. She loved Vanessa, but it seemed like everything was a life-altering event that needed to be scrutinized and panicked over, and she just didn't have the energy to get into it right then. She threw her phone on the cushion next to her, and grabbed her laptop instead.
Her email inbox looked too daunting (and required too much effort if the emails were actually important), so she pulled up her Twitter homepage instead. It was a lot easier to scroll through Miley's minute-by-minute updates and her sister's random thoughts than it was to reply to emails. Her brain went on autopilot until she came across Perez Hilton's second latest Tweet.
Zac Efron gay scandal???? PICTURES AT PEREZHILTON.COM!!!
Her heart stopped.
There were pictures? Fingers shaking, she pulled up PerezHilton.com, which took an agonizingly long time to load- even the ticking of her watch felt like it was moving in slow-motion, trapped in some kind of web. Oh, Zac- they had to be fake. He'd faced scandals like that before, and it was Perez; he was notorious for thinking every smooth-faced young actor who hit the big time was a closeted homosexual (and Ashley wasn't entirely sure that Perez's bias wasn't based on wishful thinking). It was the same stupid stunts he always pulled, and she didn't even know why she was checking- or why her hand was trembling so badly.
She was expecting some shoddy Photoshop job hastily thrown together.
She hadn't expected to see pictures obviously taken through glass at night, the glare and reflection of restaurant lights bouncing back towards the camera.
It wasn't a picture- it was multiple pictures. Multiple shots of Zac leaning in to feed a slender Japanese man- oh, Jun, that was Jun- food from his chopsticks, hands brushing across the top of the table, fingers linked around wrists.
"Oh my God," Ashley whispered. She didn't know when her hand had moved up to cover her mouth. Even if she hadn't known, even if she hadn't been part of it- she would have known after seeing the images. It wasn't something they could write off as friends. It reeked of intimacy, of closeness; the expression on their faces, the quirk to their mouths, everything. The last shot had both of them turned, towards the window, towards something a little off to the left of the shot that had obviously caught their attention- and their hands were clasped together next to the plates of food.
It wasn't incriminating. It was damning.
She couldn't even look at the 978 comments already posted to the article. She threw up a new browser window to check her email, to check the itinerary Zac had mailed her just before leaving. If the times were still correct, he wasn't even home yet. He was still on the flight into LAX.
She grappled for her phone from the fringe of the pillows and stood up, hitting the buttons with force. Her heart felt like it was in her throat, pounding against her ears.
It went straight to voicemail.
"Zac, it's Ash," she said, after the beep, aware that her voice was shaking madly. "Look, it's really important. Call me back as soon as you get this, okay? As soon as you get this."
The phone click was deafening as she closed it.
She stood for a long while with the device in her hands, clasped close to her chest, staring down at Perez Hilton's irritatingly magenta site background. Freaking out was going to get her nowhere, and she was probably overreacting- it was just Perez. He was the gossip-king, but he wasn't the real media.
But how could Zac justify the photos? Clever manipulation? And how could he explain why he was in Japan, without a reason- no tour, no promotions?
Ashley sat back down, reaching for her laptop again. She was just panicking needlessly; it was only Perez, only meaningless rumors.
But MSN- there was a link. Yahoo!Entertainment, Oh No They Didn't- all links, reposting of the photos. It was like Vanessa's photo scandal, only worse- because it wasn't just a teenage girl making a dumb, hormonal decision, it was two people. It was two lives intertwined together, and all the people who had become a part of it. It was Zac.
Her phone buzzed with a text message, and she ignored it, eyes stuck on the LCD screen.
She didn't move until her doorbell rang with the Thai.
------
Jun woke to his cell phone ringing. It was close by his ear, and jarred him awake, but it took a few moments to right himself as the remnants of dreams filtered out of his mind. He'd been so tired that he'd been sleeping hard- waking again, especially in the middle of the night, when the sky was still inky black outside, was incredibly difficult.
If it was Leader drunk-dialing him again, he was going to kick his ass.
He fumbled, trying to find the source of the irritation, glaring blearily at the screen. His manager- what was his manager doing calling at 2 AM? Jun hadn't figured he had been the kind to drink and call, but there was a first for everything. Nothing was important enough to merit a 2 AM phone call for any of his drama filmings- and his manager should know better than to think he was going to get answered that late, anyway.
Jun hit the ignore button and flopped back down on his pillow, sighing.
Two seconds later, the phone went off again.
"Dammit," Jun groaned, into the fabric, slamming his hand down on the top of the offending device. He was incredibly tempted to hit ignore again- drunk or not, he had shoots the next day, and his manager knew that. Unless the man's house was literally on fire- and even then, Jun sincerely doubted that he would be the one who received the phone call about it- there was absolutely no reason to be waking Jun up that late.
He grabbed the phone, flipped it open, and stuck it against the ear not currently resting against the pillow.
"What is it?" he snapped into the receiver.
"Don't you dare get pissy with me," came his manager's voice- sounding very much awake, and very much sober. Both elements were enough to chase away the last vestiges of sleep from Jun's thoughts. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"What?" Jun stammered. As far as he knew, he hadn't missed any appointments- no filmings, no shoots. There wasn't anything he'd forgotten about, he was a meticulous schedule keeper. But it was possible that there had been something to slip his mind. He threw a hand to his forehead, trying to rack his brain to come up with what it could have been- a late scene that needed moonlight? A re-shoot for an edit?
"Don't play dumb with me," his manager hissed. "I don't think I can clean this up."
"Wait, what?" Jun tried again, sitting up. There was something in the man's tone that made him nervous, very nervous; he'd never heard his manager get this upset with him before. "What is this about?"
"Who's the guy?"
The air in the room suddenly got a lot closer, choking him. Jun struggled to breathe, and the action was painful.
"What?" he whispered.
"Who's the guy, Matsumoto? And how could you be so stupid?"
Jun couldn't answer; his mouth literally would not respond. The air in his lungs burned, like he had swallowed in two mouthfuls of water instead of oxygen, like he was trapped in a box with a raging fire stealing his lifeforce away- the sides of his vision were getting hazy, striped with black. He was suddenly glad that he hadn't eaten much for dinner; if there had been anything in his stomach, it would have come back up, and just the hot acid of bile was stinging in the back of his throat.
"God, Matsumoto, there are photos. There are photos, and they've already gone to print in several papers, and I can't stop them."
"I-" he tried.
"You what? You didn't think this would happen?" his manager was unstoppable, on a tirade. "I don't know who he is, or how you met him, but this is bad. And it's going to get a lot worse when those papers hit the press tomorrow morning."
All Jun could see was the memory card that he had tossed into the garbage disposal. It was gone, he knew it was gone- how had someone else gotten the photos?
"Do you understand what you have to do?" his manager was saying. "Johnny is going to be furious. You have to deny everything, Matsumoto. This isn't a game. Your career is on the line, here."
Jun didn't realize he was crying until the first hot tear hit his cheek, stinging like an insect bite. And the worst part was that his manager was right; he was right about everything. Jun had been stupid. He'd been stupid, and careless, and had let himself get carried away, and he couldn't put the blame on anyone else. And he couldn't help it, because it was impossible to separate his rationality from his emotions.
Suddenly, his world didn't feel stable around him. It was shaking, and falling apart, and he couldn't even dive for the salvagable pieces.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes," he whispered, salty tears slipping into his mouth, against his tongue.
"Johnny is going to find out tomorrow. I'll know more then." The conversation ended with a click, and Jun couldn't pull the phone away from his ear.
For a long time, he didn't know how he was breathing. The knot in his stomach enveloped everything inside, crushing it- everything was gone. There was a sob lodged in his chest that he kept swallowing back, and every time, it got that much closer. He felt like he was dying- or worse, because he was still sentient, still perceiving the things around him. Even the red glow of his alarm clock looked like an omen, painting the bedside table with crimson.
He couldn't form coherent thoughts.
And he dialed the number before he realized that his fingers were moving.
--------
“No,” he mumbled against his pillowcase as his phone rang. “You have to be kidding.”
It was just after 2:00 AM when he was roused by the noisy ringtone, grabbing it from the bedside table quickly before it woke up the rest of the house. He didn’t even check who was calling before answering in a hushed whisper. “What?”
Whoever it was, they were upset. All Sho could hear was hitched breathing and crying. “Hello? I’m going to hang up!” he hissed angrily.
“Sho-chan?”
He was awake now. “Matsujun?”
“There was a second one.”
“A what?”
“Another guy. Another photographer,” Sho heard Jun say between sobs. “I’m in so much trouble. I’m in so much trouble. I’m in so much…”
“Slow down,” he said, sitting up and tossing off his blankets. This was bad. This was really bad. Jun never sounded this upset, ever. “Another photographer where?”
“There must have been someone else,” his friend explained. “My manager…oh damn it, Johnny’s going to know. What am I going to…I have to…I should have known better!”
Sho was already out of bed and looking for his coat. “Where are you? I can come meet you.”
He heard almost drunken laughter. “I’m at home. I’m at home and even now when I’m on the phone with you I’m getting other calls. I’m in so much trouble.”
“Look, we’ll get this all straightened out. You stay home, I’ll come there and…”
“No. No, I need to get out of here.” Jun’s voice was almost hysterical, and Sho was growing more and more worried by the second. “There’s going to be people outside, I know there will. I’m going out the back door now…shit it’s cold.”
He didn’t know what to do or say. He’d just been over by Jun’s place earlier. He watched Jun destroy the memory card. Hadn’t he saved Jun this kind of trouble? How had he failed to notice someone else on the street that night?
“I’m taking a cab,” Jun announced. “I’m coming there. Please, please I need to…”
“But my parents are…” Sho sighed. “Look, there’s a park, you know the one close by. Meet me by the picnic area. Don’t worry I…”
Jun hung up, and Sho was greeted with the dial tone in his ear. “Shit.” He had his coat on over his sweats and went downstairs as quietly as he could. His phone buzzed with half a dozen text messages as he left the house. Various people, even his manager. Every message wondering - “is it true about Matsujun?”
He made it to the park in a few minutes, wishing he’d brought a hat or his gloves. And wishing he’d brought something to say. It was Jun’s fault for getting in this trouble, but couldn’t Sho have done more to prevent it? He sat down at one of the picnic benches, wishing he’d just let Jun come to the house. It was really cold and one of them was bound to get sick.
Sho saw the lights of the taxi cab through the trees that lined the little picnic grove and before too long, he saw Jun in a jacket that wasn’t warm enough for the weather. He’d obviously just grabbed the first thing he’d seen before leaving. As Sho’s phone vibrated with yet another text about Jun, he shut it off and stood as Jun approached, looking pale as a ghost.
He stood up, trying to stay calm even though he was shaking from the cold and from worry. Sho heard Jun’s own phone go off, and he could barely watch as he fumblingly pulled it from his pocket, fingers trembling as he tried to hit the buttons. Sho bit his lip as the phone dropped into the grass, and Jun dropped to his knees to try and pick it up. He moved forward, crouching down and picking up the phone for him.
It was strange how much of the past year had revolved around Jun’s damn cell phone. He couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes as he picked up the noisy phone, silencing it and turning it off. He held it out and Jun grabbed it back, not bothering to stand back up. “I’m fucked. Literally. I am fucked,” Jun mumbled in disbelief.
“You’re not, you’re not,” Sho reassured him, not sure if he believed it. If there were pictures just as damning as the ones Sho had stolen, then the next few weeks were going to be tough. “There have been worse things in Johnny’s…”
“It doesn’t matter!” Jun was shaking in the cold, wrapping his arms around himself. “You’ve been telling me and telling me and telling me to be careful, and I didn’t listen.”
Sho rolled his eyes. “This is way beyond something you could have controlled. Come on, stand up.” He got to his feet, offering Jun his hand. The other man’s hand was like ice as he pulled him up, and his grip was strong. Sho pulled him over to the picnic bench, making Jun sit down next to him. “What’s the plan? What did your manager say?”
Jun sat close, and Sho appreciated the body heat even with the messed up circumstances. A few minutes passed, and Sho draped his arm around Jun’s shoulder, trying to offer whatever support he could. Jun was still shaking and upset, and even though he was there in a coat and his pajamas, Sho couldn’t leave him like this.
Finally, Jun spoke, his voice unsteady and his teeth chattering. “I have to deny it, obviously. Johnny’s going to know sooner or later.”
“So just deny it. You were out with a friend.”
Jun laughed bitterly. “This can’t exactly be written off as fan service when there’s no fans around.”
“Leader’s been through this before. We’ll call him in the morning. He can help.”
Jun sighed. “I could call half of SMAP, and I don’t think it’s really going to make a difference.”
Sho wanted to help, but so much of this was going to be Jun’s worry alone. He couldn’t exactly write an apology or denial on Jun’s behalf. He couldn’t go up to fans in the street and tell them that Jun didn’t really have some American boyfriend. He patted Jun’s shoulder. “We’ll support you. All of us have your back.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
“It’s not a burden.” Jun was still shuddering, and Sho held onto him tighter. He could only hope there weren’t any paparazzi lurking in the park. But it was after 3:00 in the morning and winter, so he imagined not. “Whatever you need.”
“What I need,” Jun admitted, “is to talk to Zac.”
Sho nodded. He could only imagine that Zac was arriving home in Los Angeles by now. There was no doubt in his mind that the Americans would be scrutinizing his actions just as closely. They had to get out of the cold. The next morning was going to be the worst of Jun’s life. He didn’t need pneumonia on top of that.
“You need to get home.”
“I don’t want to be there,” Jun grumbled as Sho turned his phone back on and dialed for a taxi.
“Well you can’t stay by me, you know. My parents get up early and you need to sleep,” he teased him. He stayed composed as he directed a taxi to pick them up at the other end of the park.
It was after 4:00 AM when they made it to Jun’s building, following the other man to the rear entrance and up several flights of stairs. Sho was tired but did his best to stay alert as he followed Jun inside. It still smelled like it had just been cleaned. Had it only been hours since he’d been here?
“You probably better get your phone back on,” Sho said quietly, trailing Jun to his bedroom. The bed was in disarray, and there were clothes all over the floor from Jun’s quick exodus earlier. Jun barely had his coat off before he fell back on the bed with a sigh. Jun fished his phone from his pocket and threw it in Sho’s direction.
He caught it, turning it on himself. An incredible 13 missed calls and 26 new text messages. “I’ll bring you the phone if it’s your manager. Or work. I’ll be out there if you need me.”
There was a muffled “thanks” from the bed. Sho left, closing Jun’s bedroom door behind him. He sat down on the couch, Jun’s cell phone in his hand.
And he waited.
-------
For some reason, the flight back to LA always felt a lot longer than the flight there; Zac assumed it was the loss of adrenaline, the easing of his nervousness. He wasn't anxious when he stepped off the plane and onto the boarding platform, just tired. Tired, and satiated, already missing Jun with a tightness in his chest. The plane had arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule, somehow, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to turn it back on.
There was a ping, notification of a voice mail. And then another. And another.
Incredulous, he stared down at the jumping icon. It had only been off for the flight- what on Earth?
Weaving through people at the terminal, he hit 1 to start the first message.
"Zac, it's Ash. Look, it's really important. Call me back as soon as you get this, okay? As soon as you get this."
What? Zac deleted it, and let the next one start.
"I can't believe you do this, and then don't pick up your phone. Where the hell are you? Call me back immediately, this is not open for discussion."
He'd never heard his manager sound that upset before. He was starting to feel very much like Alice in Wonderland- transported into something he literally didn't recognize. There was something going on around him that he'd never heard of, and honestly- it was making him nervous.
He hit delete, and the next one started.
"Zac, it's your mom. ... why didn't you tell us? You didn't even tell us that you were leaving the country, and now we have to find out- why?"
He stared up at the arriving flight screens near the wall, feeling like someone punched him in the stomach and knocked the wind clear out of him. His mother's message wasn't done.
"I just never thought I would find out something like this from a website, Zac. You could have told us why you really broke up with Vanessa. I love you no matter what, you know that. Who is this man?"
"Oh my God," Zac breathed.
"Where did you meet him? Do you even know him? Oh, Zac. Honey- just..."
He very nearly almost dropped his phone. There were people all around him, carting luggage, talking on mobiles, and all of them felt suddenly like enemies. Everyone was watching him. Everyone was staring at him. And he was the last to know about it.
Website- man- his manager-
"Oh my God," he gasped.
Jun. Jun. Someone- everyone- knew. The words blurred in front of his face, white letters becoming undistinguishable blobs.
He stood there so long, staring up at the screens, that he missed his bags on the luggage carousel, and had to get an employee to get them out of the back room for him.
Chapter: 9/12
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Matsumoto Jun/Zac Efron, Sho --> Jun, implied past Jun --> Sho
Rating: T
Warnings: Language, implied situations.
Summary: What had been a one-time thing has turned into ... not a one-time thing. And they aren't the only ones involved.
Zac’s hands were still shaking in his pockets as they entered the restaurant. For a little bit of excitement, Jun had decided they’d take the train from his apartment to Shibuya. Nobody had recognized them, or at the very least, nobody had dared approach them. Then again, it was a chilly night, and most of the faces on the train had been focused downward anyhow in between drafty station platforms.
They took off their shoes and were escorted to a traditional table with floor seating. “I need back support,” Zac mumbled, trying to settle his legs as best as he could. Jun looked perfectly comfortable across from him, but this was something people were used to over here.
Jun’s sadistic side showed again as he smiled. “You sound like an old man.” A server brought some hot tea over, and they sipped it. Despite the noisy, busy neighborhood outside, the restaurant was rather quiet. Zac was able to look around and out the windows to see the street. He was glad to be out of the cold with a warm drink.
-------
It was cold enough here. He was almost pleased that he wasn’t shivering up north at some ski lodge with people he hadn’t really seen in over ten years. For all that he knew he was a well-adjusted, well-respected normal human being, Sho wondered what the hell was wrong with him.
He was in a heavy coat and knit cap sitting across the street from the Mikura restaurant. And he was just watching. He’d overheard Zac and Jun talking in the cab the night before. Sho rarely forgot anything he’d read, and he couldn't help remembering a story in the paper. Some young idol had ruined her reputation the other week by meeting with a married man at some restaurant in this neighborhood. There were paparazzi crawling all over the fancy spots in the area - the bitter cold wouldn’t keep them away.
If anyone approached Mikura, then Sho would see them for sure. And then he could charge across the street, go in and hopefully approach Jun’s table as if he’d been expected all along. It was a pretty stupid plan, but he remembered the photos plastered all over the newspaper, the man’s wife in a teary interview, the idol’s agency canceling her contract instead of releasing an apology.
For all that he and the other members might have been dogged by paparazzi in their long careers, the last kind of scandal they needed was ladykiller Matsumoto Jun having a romantic meal with another man. It would explode, and Sho cared way too much about his friend to let it happen.
He rubbed his hands together, doing his best to peer through the glass. Jun and Zac had a table just past the one at the window. Not the best angle for a paparazzo, but they had fancy lenses and things now. His ass was probably going to freeze to the bench, but Sho wasn’t going anywhere.
--------
They were onto the appetizers now, and Zac was doing okay. Jun was nervous about any meal after the sashimi problem he’d had on his last visit. So long as the other man kept his sake intake down, he’d probably be okay.
It was so much better having Zac at his apartment. No threat of maids knocking on the door at the very least. They’d spent most of the day in and out of his bed, and they’d only ventured out for this dinner. He wondered if Zac wanted to go see more of Tokyo, but he’d voiced no complaints so far. Maybe they’d go to Tokyo Tower after dinner, see all the lights. Even with the awkwardness at Aiba’s the night before, it had been a very satisfying few days.
Being with Zac, occasional communication misfires aside, was exciting. A sneaky handhold on the train ride, trying to see who would look away from the other first while they ate...things like this kept the both of them on their toes. He tried for a bit of English. “If you put jersey in trash, I not going to tell Aiba.”
Zac laughed at that, taking a bite of his omelet. “I like the jersey.”
“Like it better on my floor.”
Zac’s eyes widened at that, and he brought a finger to his lips. “Someone will hear you.”
Jun shrugged. “They don’t know what we talking about.”
------
Something was funny, Sho noticed as Zac seemed to be laughing at whatever Jun had said. This wasn’t right. He’d been sitting here in the cold for the better part of an hour already, munching on some crappy sandwich he’d gotten from a convenience store by the train station. Having to watch other people eat really good food was taking its toll already.
But he wasn’t budging. For as much as he didn’t enjoy thinking too hard about the life Zac led back in America, their brief conversation from the night before wasn’t sitting well with him. The man had been fidgety and jittery hanging up his phone. He’d probably thought that Sho was Jun exiting the house - what on his phone would he have to hide anyhow? American celebrities were always getting into trouble. Not that the Japanese were infallible, but the American tabloids were ruthless in digging up dirt.
And not that Sho liked reading tabloids, but he was a researcher. He’d done his share of digging on Zac. Made sure he didn’t have some drug habit or something that would really damage Jun’s reputation. Sho’s search hadn’t uncovered anything but a bitter break-up with a girlfriend, not too long after the first time he’d been in Japan. Not that the American tabloids knew what the reason was. But Sho didn’t want them to ever find out.
He sat glumly, watching the way Jun and Zac unconsciously leaned forward while they talked, the casual and reckless way they let their fingers brush as they clinked glasses or passed dishes of sauce. He should walk away, let Jun fight his own battles. But he just couldn’t bear the thought of Jun facing scandal. He’d accomplished so much, and his acting career was really taking off. Even whispers could be damning.
He shoved the empty sandwich wrapper in his pocket and groaned as Zac reached across the table to dab at Jun’s face. “You’re just asking for it,” Sho muttered.
------
There was sauce at the corner of Jun’s mouth and his first instinct had been to get rid of it, but here he was in a crowded restaurant wiping his finger across another man’s lips. He snatched his hand back, blushing furiously.
“That was...really really dumb.”
Jun patted his mouth with his napkin. “It’s okay. Just keep eating.” As soon as Zac took a drink from his water glass, Jun struck again. “You can touch my mouth all you want soon enough.”
Zac choked, the water going down the wrong pipe while Jun chuckled. “You’re a real bastard tonight,” he complained as soon as he could breathe properly again.
But Jun was all smiles, carefree and happy. A far cry from the knot of tension that still sat in Zac’s stomach. With every smile, it twisted his gut, reminding him of how easily he’d let Vanessa come back into his life. But it was a one time thing, and it wasn’t like he expected Jun to be some saint without him.
Their food arrived, and Jun had gotten some pork that looked damn good. Not that Zac’s food was bad, it wasn’t. It was amazing, but he could smell Jun’s food, and it didn’t take long for the other man to notice. Jun picked up a small piece with his chopsticks and held it about halfway. It seemed that Zac would have to lean to get it.
-----
Someone emerged from the store behind him, having a pretty hushed conversation on his cell phone. “No, I don’t know who the other guy is, but that has to be the pretty one from Arashi.”
Sho felt his tension rise. He glanced across to see Jun letting Zac eat something off of his chopsticks. “MatsuJun, you idiot,” he grumbled under his breath, but otherwise stayed still as the man behind him leaned against a light pole and pulled a camera from his bag while he continued babbling on the phone.
“Yeah yeah, it’s probably nothing, but that’s what they said about-”
Sho ignored the conversation, instead focusing on Jun and Zac in the restaurant. Act like friends, he begged them. Just act like friends already and stop giving them ammunition.
He heard the camera turn on, and his heart sank.
------
“Okay okay, that’s enough,” Zac said, leaning back and going for his own food. He wasn’t used to other people feeding him, especially in a public restaurant.
Jun smirked. “Well?”
“Well what?” Zac asked, his chopsticks halfway to his mouth. Jun laughed again, and Zac figured it out. “Oh I guess I could share.”
He moved the chopsticks forward a few inches. Jun was really going to have to lean across the table for it. As he did so, the other man’s fingers locked around his wrist as he brought his mouth to the food.
-------
Sho began tapping his foot with each click of the camera just to his right. He probably just looked like some vagrant or some guy waiting for some delinquent friend. That would be to his advantage. Jun was being an idiot, plain and simple, but one fuck up in ten years wasn’t worth the reaction it would get. Matsumoto Jun would be ruined.
Damn it, damn it, damn it, he thought. His body was working far faster than his brain as he pulled up his hood, and pushed up the collar of his coat to cover most of his mouth. He was as anonymous as he was going to get. The second he’d seen Jun’s hand wrap around Zac’s arm, he’d decided to do something completely fucking stupid.
He rose from the bench. The photographer was completely absorbed in his work, and Sho took a deep breath. Stupid, stupid, stupid, just do it. He charged at the photographer, yanking the camera away and holding it close like a rugby ball.
“Hey!” the photographer shouted, and some other people in the street noticed as Sho ran off as fast as he possibly could, which was pretty damn fast when he was scared out of his mind.
--------
“Hey!”
Zac’s grip on the chopsticks loosened, and the food dropped to the table. Jun blinked, letting Zac go to look out the window. Some guy was shouting to anyone who would listen. There was no soundproofing in the world keeping this guy quiet.
“-stole my fucking camera!” Jun heard, and his blood ran a bit cold. A thief in the neighborhood? Or something worse?
“What’s happening?” Zac asked, grabbing his hand almost like a reflex.
Jun slipped his fingers away from Zac. “Don’t, not now.”
“Police! I need the police! That bastard took my camera!”
--------
The lights blurred as he ran through the street, ducking into an alley and continuing off. He could hear the guy’s screams from behind him. Nobody had even tried to stop him, and the paparazzi didn’t seem to be chasing him. Sho’s lungs hurt as he kept moving, weaving in and out of streets and alleys and crowds like some common thief.
You have a degree from Keio, he thought angrily as he pushed the camera into his coat pocket. You report the news on television. You went to the god damn Olympics, he berated himself as he made it to the nearest subway station, finally slowing his steps.
As he waited on the platform, he checked over his shoulder at least twenty times. Nobody had followed and nobody had recognized him. The camera, proof of Jun and Zac’s dinner, was burning a hole in his pocket.
But he’d done it. He’d saved Jun.
He’d call Jun tomorrow. He’d give him the memory card or something. Because there was no way he could keep risking his neck for him, and Jun needed to understand the weight of his actions. Whatever Sho said meant little - but seeing photographic proof of what might have happened could possibly change his mind.
The subway car doors opened and he headed inside, feeling the weight of the camera inside his coat. He’d saved Jun, but at what cost?
--------
Zac's heart was still racing when they got back to Jun's apartment. He didn't know what had gone on outside the restaurant- all they could hear was the shouting of the man whose camera was stolen, and couldn't see anything from the glare reflecting the images within back at them, but he got the gist of it; something had gone down, something bad, and he didn't know what it concerned or who it was about. It made him very nervous, even though he tried to brush the whole thing off as no big deal.
Jun hadn't said much, either, but by the set of his jaw and the tightness in his mouth, Zac assumed that he felt the same way.
They didn't say anything for a long while, stripping off their coats and shoes by the door and slowly making their way inside. The clicking from the clock on the opposite wall was deafening in the silence.
"Sorry," Jun said, finally, breaking the silence a bit awkwardly. "About- it was weird, right?"
"Stuff happens," Zac replied.
"I thought we'd go out tonight, to see Tokyo Tower maybe," the other man continued, frowning. He bit his lower lip in obvious thought, eyes focused somewhere beyond Zac's shoulder, at nothing and everything.
"Maybe it's not a good idea anymore," Zac said.
"Yeah," came Jun's response.
There was another pause, and Zac moved forward to wrap his arms around the other man. He felt better like that, wrapped up in Jun's scent- untouchable. Invincible. Jun's arms looped around his shoulders, fingers splayed across his back, and they just stayed like that for a long while, listening to the ticking of the clock and the howling wind outside, to the rhythmic heartbeats between their forms.
"Maybe we should just stay in bed tonight," Jun whispered, breath picking up pieces of Zac's hair and twirling them a bit.
"Mm," Zac voiced his affirmative. He raised his head to meet Jun's mouth. It was slow, languid; he wasn't in any hurry, not anymore, and he wasn't even sure what he wanted. The gentleness to the motion surprised him, and if it surprised Jun, the other man did well not to show it. Usually everything was so rushed, so heady, mimicking the fire in his veins, but now-
-he just felt like he wanted to revel in it a bit.
Jun kissed him back, hands brushing the sides of Zac's faces, his cheeks, his jawline. Every touch was planned, carefully thought-out- just light touches against the skin that moved constantly.
Jun moved, pressing his weight against Zac in an obvious attempt to get Zac himself to back up. Together they moved through the bedroom door, and Zac fell backwards onto the comforter- he wasn't even sure why they bothered to make the bed before they left for dinner, since there had been only hours they hadn't really been in it. He broke away from the kiss to move the blankets back down and slip underneath. It was cold, and inifinitely warmer within the sheets, and even though they were both fully clothed, it felt like the right thing to do.
He waited until Jun joined him, and then kissed him again, slipping his arm around the other man's waist to pull him closer. Unhurried, not seeking- just being, for once, in the moment without any other agenda.
It had been a long time since he'd felt like he didn't need to hurry with someone.
He'd forgotten how much he loved the feeling.
"How's your stomach?" Jun murmured in Japanese, between kisses, between long breaths interlaced with whispered sighs.
"Fine," Zac half-laughed against his mouth.
"Good," came the response, accompanied by fingers running down his arm like the trickle of falling rain. Zac just kissed him harder, over and over, until he was sure that his lips were swollen and red. Jun ran his hands through his hair, sighing against his chin.
"I'm glad you came," he whispered. With the absence of sound, and the wind outside, it sounded sensual- meaningful. Like maybe it was one of those moments that Zac would always remember, one of those times he would look back on someday and still get the same twinge of nerves in his stomach, the same knot in his throat.
"Me, too," Zac replied, kissing Jun's jaw-line.
Jun pulled back a bit to let their foreheads rest together, against the mound of pillows at the head of the blankets.
"It doesn't feel like we had enough time," he mused, continuing to run his fingers through the strands of Zac's hair.
"It never feels like enough," Zac sighed.
The other man smiled a bit, like he was laughing at a private joke, and his hand stopped moving for a second.
"I feel like I should know more about you," he chuckled. His hand fell away from Zac's hair to rest on his waist, on his hip, gently playing with the material of Zac's shirt there.
"Like what?" Zac asked.
"If you have any pets," Jun said. "Your favorite color. What you wanted to be when you were little."
Zac tried to ignore the pleased, fluttering butterflies in his stomach- he wasn't sixteen anymore, and yet there they were all over again.
"That's relationship stuff," he said, the words catching on his tongue a bit.
Jun looked thoughtful for a moment, staring at where his hand was resting on Zac's hip.
"Yeah," he finally said. "I guess it is."
Unable to stop himself, Zac leaned forward to kiss him again.
"No pets," he mumbled against Jun's mouth, between kisses, between explorations and melting softness. "Green. An astronaut."
"Mm," Jun said, nipping at Zac's lower lip. "Space is a long way away."
"Yes it is," Zac agreed, sighing. Jun ran his tongue across his lip, slowly. The other man shifted, moving up, sliding his weight on top of Zac's. It was so much warmer wrapped up in each other, legs curling and entwining together.
Jun kissed his ear, his neck, breathing against his skin.
"I don't think I'm alright with you going into space," he said.
"I guess you'll have to come with me," Zac answered. Jun's hands roved under his shirt, skimming across his skin; Zac helped him to shrug the article off, grabbing Jun's shirt afterwards and tugging it over his head.
Jun's mouth was hot against his stomach.
"It takes awhile to get there," he murmured.
"We've got time," Zac hissed in response. There was a hand on his navel, on his stomach- and then Jun's mouth was back on his again, demanding more. A hand moved along the side of his waist, across the bone, and then paused, inches away from the top of his jeans.
Jun pulled away, face so close Zac could still feel the heat of his breath.
"Do you-?" he asked, in a single breath, in a rush, unable to finish. He didn't really need to- Zac thought mybe he'd been expecting the question for a long time. It seemed obvious, didn't it? It was odder that they'd never taken that last step than it was to voice the inquiry, odd that neither of them had asked, neither had brought it up. Jun's fingers were brushing gingerly over his abdomen.
He'd known what the answer was before he'd thought about the question in the first place.
"Yes," he said.
And Jun kissed him again, again and again, and they did have time. They had all night- they had each other, and really, that was all that mattered, as the snow pelted against the windowpane outside.
-------
Even though he was technically still on vacation, he’d only managed to spend two days at home before he couldn’t take it any longer. Sitting around the house just made him think about the stupid decision he’d made. The photographer’s camera was still in his coat pocket, and he hadn’t moved it since he’d gotten home.
For all that he thought Jun’s thought process had been muddled since Zac’s arrival, Sho was beginning to think that his own wasn’t all that clear either. He’d committed theft after loitering - okay, stalking on a cold night. He’d told himself that night that he’d done all this for Jun’s sake, but this was just beyond idiotic.
And thus he was at work, clicking through websites and news articles to research for a new Zero segment. The offices were quiet since many people were off on holiday themselves. Focusing his attention on politics and financial issues helped get Jun and the thought of the paparazzi off his mind, but it was already dark and his eyes ached from staring at a computer monitor for the better part of a day. From the dinner conversation at Aiba’s the other day, he knew that today was Zac’s last in Japan.
Tonight he’d do it.
He rubbed his eyes, and the tables and data points on the screen started to blur together. There was no way he’d get anything worthwhile together at this rate. Packing up his things, he said good night to the few who were still working. He couldn’t help patting the pocket of his coat as he entered the elevator.
There was no knowing if Jun would even be home, but he didn’t feel like calling ahead and getting hung up on. The train ride from the TV studios wasn’t as long as the train ride to Aiba’s had been the other night. He didn’t have as much time to prepare what he was going to say. He could just hand over the camera and leave without saying anything, but that kind of stuff wouldn’t go over well with someone like Jun.
He paced in the building entryway for a few minutes. He called his manager to confirm his schedule for the following week, killed more time by responding to some random texts from Aiba, and then walked around the block in the cold before finally gathering the courage to ring the buzzer for Jun’s apartment.
“Yes?” came Jun’s voice a few seconds later, perfectly calm and relaxed. Well, it wouldn’t be for much longer, Sho figured.
“It’s Sho. Can I come up?”
There was a pause, as he’d expected. “I have a phone. I have email.”
“This can’t wait. Can I please come up?”
The only response he got was the buzzer to open the door, and he entered quickly, making his way to the elevator. He was at Jun’s door within no time, and his hands were sweaty as he knocked.
Jun actually answered the door with rubber gloves on. “I was scrubbing the bathtub,” Sho learned, seeing Jun with sleeves rolled up and a thin band holding his hair away from his face. He looked like a housewife.
“Sorry.”
“Come in. You won’t leave me alone so I may as well hear you out.”
It seemed that his friend was in an interesting mood. But as soon as the truth came out, Sho could see the mood changing. He slipped his shoes off and followed Jun back into the apartment. Before the other man could get back to his cleaning (since Sho wasn’t exactly a planned guest), Sho caught him by the elbow.
“Look, you’re not going to like this...”
“That’s a good start,” Jun complained, leaning back against his counter as Sho took his fingers away from the other man’s warm skin.
With the heavy coat in the warm apartment, he was already sweating, but if Jun was going to throw him out, he’d only have time to grab his shoes before leaving. He couldn’t just toss his coat on the rack. He shakily took the camera from his pocket and set it down on the kitchen counter just next to where Jun was leaning.
He went for honesty. “I’m not proud of what I had to do to get this, nor am I proud of the fact that I was there in the first place so-”
“Wait a second,” Jun said, picking up the camera and inspecting it. “You...oh no way. Sho, don’t even-”
“Yeah, it was me. Outside of Mikura. Look, I can explain. Sort of.”
“You were following me? Following us?” he spat, setting the camera back down roughly. “You listened to our conversation in the cab and then you sat outside like a pervert watching us?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it?” Jun moved forward, nearly knocking Sho back against the cool metal doors of the refrigerator. He wasn’t that much taller, but when Jun was mad, he tended to make others shrink. “It’s obvious that you stole a camera. What the hell is wrong with you?”
“With me?” he managed to say, the handle for the refrigerator door poking him in the back hard. “That guy was taking pictures of you!”
“So what? We were eating dinner!” Jun poked him with a rubber gloved finger. “You had a perfect view I’m sure!”
Sho looked down. “I said I’m not proud of it.” He pushed back a bit, close enough to feel Jun’s breath on his face. “Hate me all you want, but look at the damn pictures and convince yourself that you weren’t putting yourself at risk. Look at them and imagine that plastered all over the front pages.”
Jun didn’t back down and even with his hair back and smelling like cleaning supplies, Sho was just waiting for Jun to punch him. His heart was racing, and he was going to pass out from the warmth, the smell and from his own fear. Even if Ohno was their leader, Sho was the “mother” of their group, wasn’t he? Looking after the younger ones? He’d been watching out for Matsujun since they’d hit puberty. Then why did this feel like something more than simple concern?
“You work too hard to let some morally bankrupt photographer ruin you, Ma-chan,” he mumbled earnestly. “People won’t know what to think. They’ll see this, they’ll judge you on this. They’ll ignore everything you’ve accomplished over a stupid picture.”
Finally, Jun got out of his face, leaning back to take off the gloves and grab the camera. The only sound for the next few minutes was their breathing and Jun turning the camera on. Sho could only stand there, numb, as Jun’s face grew pale as he clicked through whatever was saved on the camera’s memory card.
The camera beeped as Jun shut it off, taking off the back of it and yanking out the tiny little card. It was the size of Sho’s thumbnail, but it held the potential of ruining Jun’s reputation entirely. “I don’t like what you did. And I’m honestly not sure what I think about you right now,” Jun announced, rummaging through his kitchen drawers like a man possessed.
“I get that.”
Jun gave up, finally dropping the card in the garbage disposal part of his sink and turning it on. Sho listened to the satisfying sound of the tiny card getting ground up. Jun turned around and to Sho’s utter surprise, settled his hands on his shoulders. “I don’t like it. But thank you.”
Sho felt sick to his stomach. His skin was clammy, and he stumbled over his words. “I just don’t want...I would never want you to have to-”
Jun gave him a shake. “I know that. I know. I’m sorry I’ve been such trouble for you.”
Whatever Jun was saying, it really wasn’t registering. Sho could only focus on Jun’s hands shaking some sense back into him. “No trouble,” he mumbled. “Okay, plenty of trouble.”
Jun actually laughed, playfully smacking him in the head. “I have to clean. We’ll talk later, alright? I’m sick of Nino thinking we’re some old married couple.”
Sho didn’t know why that made him feel so funny, but he needed air. Jun gave him a shove back towards the door, waiting patiently while he stumbled back into his shoes. He made it into the hall, with Jun leaning against the doorframe.
“Thanks. For the camera, I mean. I’m not going to...” Jun fidgeted. “I’ll be more careful.”
“You do that. I’ll see you.”
“Good night.” The door closed, and Sho exhaled. He’d made it out of there without a well-deserved black eye. Hell, Jun had almost embraced him.
As he walked out of the apartment building, he felt like some weight had been lifted from him. There was probably not much he could do to split Jun up from Zac, but he’d done whatever had been in his power to make sure his friend could stay happy.
If only he could have seen what was coming.
-------
It had been a very long day.
Ashley had been in the studio for hours recording songs for her new album. Her throat was raw, her head was throbbing, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse on her couch with a cup of herbal tea and a good movie. She had three voice mails- checking the call log, two were from her agent, didn't he know that she was busy today?- and a slew of text messages, and she didn't even want to look at her email inbox. She knew all the time she was putting in would be well worth it, but at the moment she just wanted to sleep.
The streets were jam-packed with people, and the commute home took longer than normal, and by the time she walked in through her front door, she was too annoyed to even bother cooking herself dinner. She dialed the Thai number she knew by heart and ordered a quick-take out instead, settling down into the throw pillows on her loveseat with a content sigh.
Flipping open her phone, she scrolled through the text messages. Her mom, a friend from high school, Corbin, Vanessa-
Curious, she clicked on Vanessa's. She hadn't heard much from the other girl in awhile; they'd both been busy with filming and obligations, and she hadn't really realized how much time had passed since she'd last received a phone call.
I need to talk to you. -V
Cryptic, vague, and honestly, going to have to wait until Ashley had gotten enough rest to deal with girl-drama. She loved Vanessa, but it seemed like everything was a life-altering event that needed to be scrutinized and panicked over, and she just didn't have the energy to get into it right then. She threw her phone on the cushion next to her, and grabbed her laptop instead.
Her email inbox looked too daunting (and required too much effort if the emails were actually important), so she pulled up her Twitter homepage instead. It was a lot easier to scroll through Miley's minute-by-minute updates and her sister's random thoughts than it was to reply to emails. Her brain went on autopilot until she came across Perez Hilton's second latest Tweet.
Zac Efron gay scandal???? PICTURES AT PEREZHILTON.COM!!!
Her heart stopped.
There were pictures? Fingers shaking, she pulled up PerezHilton.com, which took an agonizingly long time to load- even the ticking of her watch felt like it was moving in slow-motion, trapped in some kind of web. Oh, Zac- they had to be fake. He'd faced scandals like that before, and it was Perez; he was notorious for thinking every smooth-faced young actor who hit the big time was a closeted homosexual (and Ashley wasn't entirely sure that Perez's bias wasn't based on wishful thinking). It was the same stupid stunts he always pulled, and she didn't even know why she was checking- or why her hand was trembling so badly.
She was expecting some shoddy Photoshop job hastily thrown together.
She hadn't expected to see pictures obviously taken through glass at night, the glare and reflection of restaurant lights bouncing back towards the camera.
It wasn't a picture- it was multiple pictures. Multiple shots of Zac leaning in to feed a slender Japanese man- oh, Jun, that was Jun- food from his chopsticks, hands brushing across the top of the table, fingers linked around wrists.
"Oh my God," Ashley whispered. She didn't know when her hand had moved up to cover her mouth. Even if she hadn't known, even if she hadn't been part of it- she would have known after seeing the images. It wasn't something they could write off as friends. It reeked of intimacy, of closeness; the expression on their faces, the quirk to their mouths, everything. The last shot had both of them turned, towards the window, towards something a little off to the left of the shot that had obviously caught their attention- and their hands were clasped together next to the plates of food.
It wasn't incriminating. It was damning.
She couldn't even look at the 978 comments already posted to the article. She threw up a new browser window to check her email, to check the itinerary Zac had mailed her just before leaving. If the times were still correct, he wasn't even home yet. He was still on the flight into LAX.
She grappled for her phone from the fringe of the pillows and stood up, hitting the buttons with force. Her heart felt like it was in her throat, pounding against her ears.
It went straight to voicemail.
"Zac, it's Ash," she said, after the beep, aware that her voice was shaking madly. "Look, it's really important. Call me back as soon as you get this, okay? As soon as you get this."
The phone click was deafening as she closed it.
She stood for a long while with the device in her hands, clasped close to her chest, staring down at Perez Hilton's irritatingly magenta site background. Freaking out was going to get her nowhere, and she was probably overreacting- it was just Perez. He was the gossip-king, but he wasn't the real media.
But how could Zac justify the photos? Clever manipulation? And how could he explain why he was in Japan, without a reason- no tour, no promotions?
Ashley sat back down, reaching for her laptop again. She was just panicking needlessly; it was only Perez, only meaningless rumors.
But MSN- there was a link. Yahoo!Entertainment, Oh No They Didn't- all links, reposting of the photos. It was like Vanessa's photo scandal, only worse- because it wasn't just a teenage girl making a dumb, hormonal decision, it was two people. It was two lives intertwined together, and all the people who had become a part of it. It was Zac.
Her phone buzzed with a text message, and she ignored it, eyes stuck on the LCD screen.
She didn't move until her doorbell rang with the Thai.
------
Jun woke to his cell phone ringing. It was close by his ear, and jarred him awake, but it took a few moments to right himself as the remnants of dreams filtered out of his mind. He'd been so tired that he'd been sleeping hard- waking again, especially in the middle of the night, when the sky was still inky black outside, was incredibly difficult.
If it was Leader drunk-dialing him again, he was going to kick his ass.
He fumbled, trying to find the source of the irritation, glaring blearily at the screen. His manager- what was his manager doing calling at 2 AM? Jun hadn't figured he had been the kind to drink and call, but there was a first for everything. Nothing was important enough to merit a 2 AM phone call for any of his drama filmings- and his manager should know better than to think he was going to get answered that late, anyway.
Jun hit the ignore button and flopped back down on his pillow, sighing.
Two seconds later, the phone went off again.
"Dammit," Jun groaned, into the fabric, slamming his hand down on the top of the offending device. He was incredibly tempted to hit ignore again- drunk or not, he had shoots the next day, and his manager knew that. Unless the man's house was literally on fire- and even then, Jun sincerely doubted that he would be the one who received the phone call about it- there was absolutely no reason to be waking Jun up that late.
He grabbed the phone, flipped it open, and stuck it against the ear not currently resting against the pillow.
"What is it?" he snapped into the receiver.
"Don't you dare get pissy with me," came his manager's voice- sounding very much awake, and very much sober. Both elements were enough to chase away the last vestiges of sleep from Jun's thoughts. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
"What?" Jun stammered. As far as he knew, he hadn't missed any appointments- no filmings, no shoots. There wasn't anything he'd forgotten about, he was a meticulous schedule keeper. But it was possible that there had been something to slip his mind. He threw a hand to his forehead, trying to rack his brain to come up with what it could have been- a late scene that needed moonlight? A re-shoot for an edit?
"Don't play dumb with me," his manager hissed. "I don't think I can clean this up."
"Wait, what?" Jun tried again, sitting up. There was something in the man's tone that made him nervous, very nervous; he'd never heard his manager get this upset with him before. "What is this about?"
"Who's the guy?"
The air in the room suddenly got a lot closer, choking him. Jun struggled to breathe, and the action was painful.
"What?" he whispered.
"Who's the guy, Matsumoto? And how could you be so stupid?"
Jun couldn't answer; his mouth literally would not respond. The air in his lungs burned, like he had swallowed in two mouthfuls of water instead of oxygen, like he was trapped in a box with a raging fire stealing his lifeforce away- the sides of his vision were getting hazy, striped with black. He was suddenly glad that he hadn't eaten much for dinner; if there had been anything in his stomach, it would have come back up, and just the hot acid of bile was stinging in the back of his throat.
"God, Matsumoto, there are photos. There are photos, and they've already gone to print in several papers, and I can't stop them."
"I-" he tried.
"You what? You didn't think this would happen?" his manager was unstoppable, on a tirade. "I don't know who he is, or how you met him, but this is bad. And it's going to get a lot worse when those papers hit the press tomorrow morning."
All Jun could see was the memory card that he had tossed into the garbage disposal. It was gone, he knew it was gone- how had someone else gotten the photos?
"Do you understand what you have to do?" his manager was saying. "Johnny is going to be furious. You have to deny everything, Matsumoto. This isn't a game. Your career is on the line, here."
Jun didn't realize he was crying until the first hot tear hit his cheek, stinging like an insect bite. And the worst part was that his manager was right; he was right about everything. Jun had been stupid. He'd been stupid, and careless, and had let himself get carried away, and he couldn't put the blame on anyone else. And he couldn't help it, because it was impossible to separate his rationality from his emotions.
Suddenly, his world didn't feel stable around him. It was shaking, and falling apart, and he couldn't even dive for the salvagable pieces.
"Do you understand?"
"Yes," he whispered, salty tears slipping into his mouth, against his tongue.
"Johnny is going to find out tomorrow. I'll know more then." The conversation ended with a click, and Jun couldn't pull the phone away from his ear.
For a long time, he didn't know how he was breathing. The knot in his stomach enveloped everything inside, crushing it- everything was gone. There was a sob lodged in his chest that he kept swallowing back, and every time, it got that much closer. He felt like he was dying- or worse, because he was still sentient, still perceiving the things around him. Even the red glow of his alarm clock looked like an omen, painting the bedside table with crimson.
He couldn't form coherent thoughts.
And he dialed the number before he realized that his fingers were moving.
--------
“No,” he mumbled against his pillowcase as his phone rang. “You have to be kidding.”
It was just after 2:00 AM when he was roused by the noisy ringtone, grabbing it from the bedside table quickly before it woke up the rest of the house. He didn’t even check who was calling before answering in a hushed whisper. “What?”
Whoever it was, they were upset. All Sho could hear was hitched breathing and crying. “Hello? I’m going to hang up!” he hissed angrily.
“Sho-chan?”
He was awake now. “Matsujun?”
“There was a second one.”
“A what?”
“Another guy. Another photographer,” Sho heard Jun say between sobs. “I’m in so much trouble. I’m in so much trouble. I’m in so much…”
“Slow down,” he said, sitting up and tossing off his blankets. This was bad. This was really bad. Jun never sounded this upset, ever. “Another photographer where?”
“There must have been someone else,” his friend explained. “My manager…oh damn it, Johnny’s going to know. What am I going to…I have to…I should have known better!”
Sho was already out of bed and looking for his coat. “Where are you? I can come meet you.”
He heard almost drunken laughter. “I’m at home. I’m at home and even now when I’m on the phone with you I’m getting other calls. I’m in so much trouble.”
“Look, we’ll get this all straightened out. You stay home, I’ll come there and…”
“No. No, I need to get out of here.” Jun’s voice was almost hysterical, and Sho was growing more and more worried by the second. “There’s going to be people outside, I know there will. I’m going out the back door now…shit it’s cold.”
He didn’t know what to do or say. He’d just been over by Jun’s place earlier. He watched Jun destroy the memory card. Hadn’t he saved Jun this kind of trouble? How had he failed to notice someone else on the street that night?
“I’m taking a cab,” Jun announced. “I’m coming there. Please, please I need to…”
“But my parents are…” Sho sighed. “Look, there’s a park, you know the one close by. Meet me by the picnic area. Don’t worry I…”
Jun hung up, and Sho was greeted with the dial tone in his ear. “Shit.” He had his coat on over his sweats and went downstairs as quietly as he could. His phone buzzed with half a dozen text messages as he left the house. Various people, even his manager. Every message wondering - “is it true about Matsujun?”
He made it to the park in a few minutes, wishing he’d brought a hat or his gloves. And wishing he’d brought something to say. It was Jun’s fault for getting in this trouble, but couldn’t Sho have done more to prevent it? He sat down at one of the picnic benches, wishing he’d just let Jun come to the house. It was really cold and one of them was bound to get sick.
Sho saw the lights of the taxi cab through the trees that lined the little picnic grove and before too long, he saw Jun in a jacket that wasn’t warm enough for the weather. He’d obviously just grabbed the first thing he’d seen before leaving. As Sho’s phone vibrated with yet another text about Jun, he shut it off and stood as Jun approached, looking pale as a ghost.
He stood up, trying to stay calm even though he was shaking from the cold and from worry. Sho heard Jun’s own phone go off, and he could barely watch as he fumblingly pulled it from his pocket, fingers trembling as he tried to hit the buttons. Sho bit his lip as the phone dropped into the grass, and Jun dropped to his knees to try and pick it up. He moved forward, crouching down and picking up the phone for him.
It was strange how much of the past year had revolved around Jun’s damn cell phone. He couldn’t meet the other man’s eyes as he picked up the noisy phone, silencing it and turning it off. He held it out and Jun grabbed it back, not bothering to stand back up. “I’m fucked. Literally. I am fucked,” Jun mumbled in disbelief.
“You’re not, you’re not,” Sho reassured him, not sure if he believed it. If there were pictures just as damning as the ones Sho had stolen, then the next few weeks were going to be tough. “There have been worse things in Johnny’s…”
“It doesn’t matter!” Jun was shaking in the cold, wrapping his arms around himself. “You’ve been telling me and telling me and telling me to be careful, and I didn’t listen.”
Sho rolled his eyes. “This is way beyond something you could have controlled. Come on, stand up.” He got to his feet, offering Jun his hand. The other man’s hand was like ice as he pulled him up, and his grip was strong. Sho pulled him over to the picnic bench, making Jun sit down next to him. “What’s the plan? What did your manager say?”
Jun sat close, and Sho appreciated the body heat even with the messed up circumstances. A few minutes passed, and Sho draped his arm around Jun’s shoulder, trying to offer whatever support he could. Jun was still shaking and upset, and even though he was there in a coat and his pajamas, Sho couldn’t leave him like this.
Finally, Jun spoke, his voice unsteady and his teeth chattering. “I have to deny it, obviously. Johnny’s going to know sooner or later.”
“So just deny it. You were out with a friend.”
Jun laughed bitterly. “This can’t exactly be written off as fan service when there’s no fans around.”
“Leader’s been through this before. We’ll call him in the morning. He can help.”
Jun sighed. “I could call half of SMAP, and I don’t think it’s really going to make a difference.”
Sho wanted to help, but so much of this was going to be Jun’s worry alone. He couldn’t exactly write an apology or denial on Jun’s behalf. He couldn’t go up to fans in the street and tell them that Jun didn’t really have some American boyfriend. He patted Jun’s shoulder. “We’ll support you. All of us have your back.”
“I don’t want to be a burden.”
“It’s not a burden.” Jun was still shuddering, and Sho held onto him tighter. He could only hope there weren’t any paparazzi lurking in the park. But it was after 3:00 in the morning and winter, so he imagined not. “Whatever you need.”
“What I need,” Jun admitted, “is to talk to Zac.”
Sho nodded. He could only imagine that Zac was arriving home in Los Angeles by now. There was no doubt in his mind that the Americans would be scrutinizing his actions just as closely. They had to get out of the cold. The next morning was going to be the worst of Jun’s life. He didn’t need pneumonia on top of that.
“You need to get home.”
“I don’t want to be there,” Jun grumbled as Sho turned his phone back on and dialed for a taxi.
“Well you can’t stay by me, you know. My parents get up early and you need to sleep,” he teased him. He stayed composed as he directed a taxi to pick them up at the other end of the park.
It was after 4:00 AM when they made it to Jun’s building, following the other man to the rear entrance and up several flights of stairs. Sho was tired but did his best to stay alert as he followed Jun inside. It still smelled like it had just been cleaned. Had it only been hours since he’d been here?
“You probably better get your phone back on,” Sho said quietly, trailing Jun to his bedroom. The bed was in disarray, and there were clothes all over the floor from Jun’s quick exodus earlier. Jun barely had his coat off before he fell back on the bed with a sigh. Jun fished his phone from his pocket and threw it in Sho’s direction.
He caught it, turning it on himself. An incredible 13 missed calls and 26 new text messages. “I’ll bring you the phone if it’s your manager. Or work. I’ll be out there if you need me.”
There was a muffled “thanks” from the bed. Sho left, closing Jun’s bedroom door behind him. He sat down on the couch, Jun’s cell phone in his hand.
And he waited.
-------
For some reason, the flight back to LA always felt a lot longer than the flight there; Zac assumed it was the loss of adrenaline, the easing of his nervousness. He wasn't anxious when he stepped off the plane and onto the boarding platform, just tired. Tired, and satiated, already missing Jun with a tightness in his chest. The plane had arrived ten minutes ahead of schedule, somehow, and he pulled his phone out of his pocket to turn it back on.
There was a ping, notification of a voice mail. And then another. And another.
Incredulous, he stared down at the jumping icon. It had only been off for the flight- what on Earth?
Weaving through people at the terminal, he hit 1 to start the first message.
"Zac, it's Ash. Look, it's really important. Call me back as soon as you get this, okay? As soon as you get this."
What? Zac deleted it, and let the next one start.
"I can't believe you do this, and then don't pick up your phone. Where the hell are you? Call me back immediately, this is not open for discussion."
He'd never heard his manager sound that upset before. He was starting to feel very much like Alice in Wonderland- transported into something he literally didn't recognize. There was something going on around him that he'd never heard of, and honestly- it was making him nervous.
He hit delete, and the next one started.
"Zac, it's your mom. ... why didn't you tell us? You didn't even tell us that you were leaving the country, and now we have to find out- why?"
He stared up at the arriving flight screens near the wall, feeling like someone punched him in the stomach and knocked the wind clear out of him. His mother's message wasn't done.
"I just never thought I would find out something like this from a website, Zac. You could have told us why you really broke up with Vanessa. I love you no matter what, you know that. Who is this man?"
"Oh my God," Zac breathed.
"Where did you meet him? Do you even know him? Oh, Zac. Honey- just..."
He very nearly almost dropped his phone. There were people all around him, carting luggage, talking on mobiles, and all of them felt suddenly like enemies. Everyone was watching him. Everyone was staring at him. And he was the last to know about it.
Website- man- his manager-
"Oh my God," he gasped.
Jun. Jun. Someone- everyone- knew. The words blurred in front of his face, white letters becoming undistinguishable blobs.
He stood there so long, staring up at the screens, that he missed his bags on the luggage carousel, and had to get an employee to get them out of the back room for him.