"Language Barriers Do Not Apply" Chapter Ten
Title: Language Barriers Do Not Apply
Chapter: 10/12
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Matsumoto Jun/Zac Efron, Sho --> Jun, implied past Jun --> Sho
Rating: T
Warnings: Language.
Summary: What had been a one-time thing has turned into ... not a one-time thing. And they aren't the only ones involved.
It was just after 7:00 AM when he felt a hand shaking him awake. “-your manager,” he heard Sho mumble.
He rolled over onto his back. Sho was holding the phone out expectantly, and Jun was ashamed to see how tired the other man looked. He’d gotten a few hours of sleep while Sho had sat up to wait for phone calls? He accepted the phone in embarrassment while Sho nodded and left his bedroom, closing the door behind him quietly.
“Hello.”
“Car should be arriving in the next twenty minutes, rear entrance. You can still expect some people waiting in the alley, but it’s the best I could arrange,” his manager said, sounding as exhausted as Sho had just seconds earlier. “You’re coming right to the office. We’ve got lawyers, Johnny’s sent people…”
Johnny already knew. Jun wasn’t exactly surprised to hear it. He wondered if he’d still have a job when he arrived. His manager was still talking. “-and everyone’s been up all night on damage control here. I had to pull people out of bed to come in and…”
“I’m very, very sorry.”
“I’m already ordering thank you gifts, so that will be reflected in your next bank statement.”
Jun rolled his eyes. What hadn’t he thought of? “That’s fine. I am sorry to have caused you so much trouble.”
“It’s my job.” There was a pause. “Johnny wants to speak with you personally when you arrive. I think it’s in your best interest to be honest and apologize.”
Jun tossed off his blanket and headed for his closet to grab some clothes. “Of course.” His eyes itched, and he felt like shit. Not only had he fucked up so completely, but he’d disappointed Johnny, who’d always had such faith in him. He found a t-shirt, a jacket and jeans and tossed them on the bed. “I’ll be ready when the car gets here.”
“We’re going to fix this. It could have been a lot worse.” You could have gotten someone pregnant, was what the man was implying. You could have been found snorting cocaine. But even now there were people at the offices trying to help him. People with families and other obligations sitting around and strategizing how to save his ass. He had a hard time imagining anything worse.
“Thank you.” He clicked the phone shut and tossed it on the bed, heading into his bathroom and starting the shower. A million thoughts went in and out of his mind as the water sprayed, and he wondered if he’d even get a chance to email Zac before the day was out. He could already see Johnny demanding he end all contact with him. To distance himself, to deny deny deny and hope it would all blow over soon.
He brushed his teeth and dressed quickly, not even bothering to dry off and fix his hair. The last thing he needed to be was a spoiled, selfish brat making the driver downstairs wait for him. Glasses were quicker than contacts, and even though he still felt awful, he at least looked a lot better than he had minutes earlier.
Grabbing his phone and wallet, he headed out of the bedroom. “Thanks for answering the…”
Jun saw Sho sitting in his armchair, completely asleep. Guilt pounded in his head. He may have been buying thank you gifts for the other staff, but he owed Sho a hell of a lot more for sticking around. He grabbed a blanket from the couch, draping it over him.
“You making breakfast?” Sho mumbled in his sleep, and Jun couldn’t help grinning.
“You sleep now, alright?” he whispered, making sure the blanket was tucked around him before grabbing his keys and a heavier coat. Jun took one last look back at Sho before opening his apartment door. This would not be a good day.
-------
It took Zac ten minutes to turn on the television.
He knew he was just being silly- the news had better things to air than information about his scandal, and his manager had been working double overtime to try and rectify the situation as quickly as possible (as evidenced by Zac's plans for later that night, which were to go out and be "spotted" with Ashley and a few of her female friends), but it still made him nervous just looking at the remote control sitting on the end table.
He'd been swamped the last few days, wtih emails and phone calls from everyone he knew. There was one person he didn't want to talk to, and one person he did, and the unfortunate truth was that the one who kept calling was the former, rather than the latter. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he looked at the screen, only to hit ignore when Vanessa's name popped up. He couldn't face her yet; not by phone, not by text. Even if she believed his manager's work of dispelling the rumors as "factless lies", she had to know. She had to suspect what the real reason behind their break-up was.
He scrolled through the missed call list. He'd missed Jun's call a few hours ago, and he hadn't left a message. With his muscles trembling, Zac hit the call back button, putting the phone up to his ear.
Each ring felt like a lifetime.
His heart nearly stopped when he finally heard Jun's voice, only to realize it was his voice mail.
This is Matsumoto Jun. Leave a message.
Zac sat for several incredibly long seconds, struggling to form words. He couldn't say anything in a voice mail- he couldn't. He tried to find something that was appropriate, but there was nothing. There wasn't anything he could say that would make the situation any better, and certainly not a message left after a beep.
He closed the phone with a snap, leaving nothing at all.
There was a lump in his throat that didn't go away, not even as he dressed for the evening and threw some gel in his hair, weaving his hands through it. Everything reminded him of Jun- of being together. He swallowed the sensations away and grabbed his jacket as he was leaving, flinging it half-heartedly over his shoulder. His manager had demanded that the outing happen, and be obvious; it had to be public, and it had to look spontaneous, which was never an easy compromise to achieve.
He met Ashley outside a trendy New Age restaurant (she hadn't suggested sushi, and he was glad for it). Her hair was piled on top of her head, and her jacket was glittering. She gave him a smile that spoke volumes when he gave her a hug, and held on just a second longer than was necessary. It was nice. It was nice to have someone understand, at least.
"The girls are going to meet us at the club after dinner," she said.
"Great," he sighed. She squeezed his shoulder a bit.
"Let's just eat," she said. "It's just us. We'll have a good time, and not think about any of the stuipd publicity stuff."
It was easier said than done, but it was easier with just Ashley. Zac found himself glad she suggested that they get dinner together alone first; he didn't need the rumor-quelling girlfriends there yet. Dinner was easy and companionable, and Ashley strayed the conversation as far from possible from anything remotely related to Jun.
Three of her friends met them outside the doors to the club. One made sure to hug him a bit inappropriately, hand straying down to his lower back, and he noted that all three were wearing incredibly short skirts- his manager had been very thorough, it seemed. If he didn't feel like something was constantly stealing the oxygen from his lungs, pressing against his stomach, he would have appreciated it more. But his smile was forced as they entered the clubs and ordered a round of drinks.
The girls wanted to dance, but he needed more booze for that.
"It's on me," Ashley said, with another sad smile. "You've earned it."
"Thanks," he replied, mirthlessly, downing the vodka tonic far faster than he should have. He didn't care how miserable he felt the next day- a few hours of bliss was worth it.
"You should dance," she said, inclining her head a bit to the right, over Zac's shoulder. "There's a photographer right over there, against the wall."
He let her pull him onto the floor. When the lights were dim and the music was overpowering, it was a bit easier to pretend that the figures pressed up against him weren't Ashley's friends. It was a bit easier to give himself just a little while longer, a few moments more in the fantasy- in the best thing he'd ever had. Someone put another drink in his hand, and then another. He was grateful to whoever it was.
The photographer must have gotten what he wanted, because after awhile he moved on, to find Paris Hilton or one her lackeys further down the dance floor. Zac's head was buzzing and the beat of the bass was screaming against his ears even in the downtime between songs. He'd thought that he'd find respite in inebriation; instead, he found himself wholly unable to stop the emotions from going everywhere at once. His carefully constructed bounds were falling apart all over one of the girls' red heels, and he was powerless to stop it.
He stumbed off the floor, into the alcove that connected the barely code-compliant bathrooms with the rest of the room, struggling to catch his breath. There were tears burning in the corners of his vision- tears, and the smell of Jun's cologne, and the wisps of feather-light caresses against his ears.
He sagged against the wall, covered with old gig flyers and drink specials.
"Are you okay?" came Ashley's voice, near his shoulder. Her hands were on his back, on his arms, something solid and tangible.
"No," he gasped, into his palms. "I can't do this. I can't do this."
"Do what?" she asked. "The club? I think it's okay to leave, I think they've gotten-"
"I can't do this," he wheezed. "I have to end it, and I can't."
She didn't say anything else, but crouched lower to put one arm around his shoulders, her cheek against his shoulder.
"I can't do it because I feel like I can't breathe every time I try," he said, tears catching on his mouth. Everything tasted like salt- regret and salt. "Just saying it out loud- I can't. I can't hear his voice and go through with it. And I have to."
Ashley's hand was rubbing gentle circles on his back.
"I know," she said, finally, softly.
"I feel like I'm dying," he sobbed.
"Call him," she said.
"It's the middle of the afternoon there," he laughed, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. "He's filming. He won't pick up."
"Maybe it's better that way," Ashley offered. She pulled Zac's phone out of his pocket and held it out for him. There was nothing written on her face- no judgment, no pity. In a way, it was almost worse, because he wanted to rail against her for making sense, to rage at her for not having to go through it, as irrational as his anger was. He just reached out to take his phone from her palm.
"Yeah," he said. The word felt like it was choking him. "Maybe- you're right."
She helped him to his feet, fingers curled protectively around his elbow.
"It's a one-stall bathroom," she said. "I'll wait here and guard the door."
The restroom stank, and half of the light bulbs were out. His breath was shaking as he dialed the number and listened to the opposite line ring. The bass outside was only slightly muted by the flimsy door and walls, and it still shook beneath his feet.
This is Matsumoto Jun. Leave a message.
"Hey it- it's me," he stumbled. "I- I'm sorry that I couldn't get you. I know you're probably- busy. With- everything."
The alcohol in his blood wasn't helping him to form the words that needed to be said. He put a hand against the wall in an attempt to steady himself.
"I- I guess it's the same for you, over there, but this- is the last time I can call you. Should call you. God, everything is such a mess, and I don't know what to do. I don't- I don't know how to deal with this, you know? I just- can't call you anymore. Or anything."
The bubble of reality was forcing itself up through his throat- he had a few second delay, before his brain registered what he was doing, and then it was going to be all over. He had to stay ahead of his thoughts, before he could react; before he could realize he was ending the only thing that had ever really made him feel that happy.
"God, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Jun. I-"
There was a knock on the door, and he could hear Ashley's furious cries of "it's occupied, stop it!".
"I have to go. G-goodbye."
He clicked the phone shut, trying desperately to ignore the fact that all the wind had gone out of his lungs. He stumbled out of the door, past the angry guy who really needed to piss, into Ashley's arm, nearly falling. He couldn't force himself to say anything.
"Okay," she said, hugging him. "Let's go home, okay?"
The ringing in his ears lasted for a full 24 hours, but the taste of anguish in his mouth lasted a lot longer than that.
--------
The past several days had not been kind to him. He hadn’t slept, had barely eaten, and he now had a cadre of photographers trained outside his apartment building every morning. He hadn’t had much to add to the apology letter - his manager and other staff had composed it. All he’d done was sign his name to it. He was still reeling from the meeting with Johnny.
The man hadn’t yelled or cursed or any of the things Jun might have expected. Which made it worse. He could take anger. He could take shouting. But Johnny had merely looked at him in disappointment before waving him off with a “be more careful next time.” The meeting had barely lasted a minute before the secretary was ushering him out to his next set of “image discussions” where he was coached on how to respond to any official outlets asking about the pictures or about Zac.
He’d denied everything. How did he and Zac meet? They were introduced at an event. Why did Zac come back to visit him? He wanted to learn more about Japan, not him. Why did Zac come back a second time? They’d become friends. More than friends? Absolutely not. Zac was “like any of his juniors” - someone to be guided, someone to look out for.
And what about the pictures? Out of context. They were joking around. “Anyone in Arashi will tell you the same” he’d been coached. It was like learning lines for a drama. There was a character named Matsumoto Jun, a role to be played. And his four fellow members had fallen in step beside him, given the same lies to spout off. All their stories were identical. The little party at Aiba’s had become proof positive that there was no ulterior motive - he’d been a guest of the entire group.
So he was trained. It wasn’t so different from learning new choreography.
His radio show for the week had been “postponed” in favor of a special report on bullying in schools. Completely random, but nobody wanted to come out and say that it was because of the pictures. Other filming had gone on that week. He’d played the Matsumoto Jun part as usual, though his scripted lines on Shukudai had been nearly eliminated and given to Nino. The audience cheered for Arashi, but he wondered if they cheered for him?
There’d been letters and emails from fans, good and bad, his manager had said. But he hadn’t been given access to them. “Let it blow over,” his manager said. “Let them calm down.”
He was kind of thankful that he’d taught himself to cook. Filming obligations were done for the day, and he headed straight home as he had the past several days. Don’t go out, don’t be seen. Just stay put. Gradually, this bit of imprisonment would be relaxed, and he’d be able to go out with friends again. And by friends, it had to be other members, his senpais, his juniors, nobody that would send off alarm bells.
Jun opened the door to his apartment and shut it behind him, kicking off his shoes. He was a grown man, an adult, and he was pretty much under house arrest. Leader was stopping by later, bringing some photos from a fishing trip in Okinawa. Jun had seen the pictures before, but he didn’t care. He needed company.
Dinner was ready by the time Ohno arrived, and they ate quietly. His friend was no stranger to scandal, and he’d been a steady, if silent confidante these past days. It had been at Sho’s insistence. They didn’t talk about the pictures or about Zac or anything having to do with all the lies and denials.
They talked about fishing. About a new single. About another member’s drama plans for the year ahead. They laughed, joked, drank beers and smoked, and before Jun knew it, it was after midnight.
Ohno excused himself then, ostensibly to go join other friends at a bar in the neighborhood. “Be seeing you,” Leader said, not making eye contact as he grabbed his jacket. But Jun knew what had been implied - “really wish you could come too.”
Alone again, Jun grabbed his phone, turning it back on after having it off most of the evening for some semblance of peace and quiet. There was only one voicemail out of the lot that he bothered to listen to. It was Zac.
It was noisy, as if the other man was in traffic or out in a crowd. And he was speaking English, rapid fire, and Jun could only get every other word. There were apologies. He was obviously upset. He replayed the voicemail at least eight times before snapping the phone shut and tossing it on the coffee table in frustration.
They shouldn’t speak at all, but hearing his voice again had reminded Jun of how happy he’d been just a short time ago, how carefree and easy spending time with Zac had been. But what had Zac said?
He had to know. Maybe there was some code, some message to give Jun just an ounce of hope after the prolonged separation. Something to look forward to once everything got back to normal. He put the cell phone on speaker, typing what he thought he heard into an online translator, replaying it and using a dictionary, but it was no use. Zac spoke too fast and there was just too much background noise.
But there was no way he could call. No way he could beg Zac to repeat everything that had made him so upset. It was just about 1:00 AM, and though he’d relied too heavily on Sho the past several days, he was the only one he could trust.
It was almost ironic. Sho, who’d betrayed his trust countless times over things with Zac, was now the only person he could turn to for help. He grabbed his phone, dialing the number, and to his surprise, Sho answered on the first ring.
“Sorry to wake you.”
“You didn’t.”
Jun fumbled with the ring on his finger, twisting it in his anxiety and need to hear Zac’s message. “If you…if you could listen to a voicemail, an English voicemail…could you tell me what it says?”
There was a lengthy pause, as if Sho was considering his own complicity in everything that had gone on amongst the three of them. And Jun knew that Zac’s message might be bad - would Sho really want to relay a message like that? “Like right now?”
“Oh…well, no, not right now…” Jun mumbled, realizing what kind of ridiculous request he was making. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you. I’ll just try listening again and…”
“No,” Sho interrupted. “No, it’s fine. I can help you. Just…give me an hour to get over there, okay? I’m out right now and…”
Guilt was worse than a migraine. “You don’t have to…”
“I said it’s fine. In an hour."
“An hour, then,” Jun repeated, hearing Sho hang up. He stared at the phone, wondering what the hell Zac had broken all the protocols that had been set up by their respective management teams to say.
He’d find out soon.
--------
It actually took an hour and seven minutes to get to Jun's front door, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling in his gut as he rapped his knuckles against the portal. Something sour, something tinged with sympathy; but none of those things he could say aloud, because Jun wouldn't want any of them. There were footsteps on the other side, and the door opened. Jun looked a little rumpled, a little worse for the wear- but all things considered, it was probably better than it could have been.
"I- you were out?" the other man asked.
"I said I was," Sho replied, walking in and bringing a wave of cigarette smoke and alcohol with him. Jun shut the door behind him, and took Sho's coat.
"I'm sorry," Jun said, automatically, as he hung the coat up. "I didn't have anyone else to call..."
The statement died out but the pleased sensation sweeping through Sho's form didn't. He tried to ignore it- he was asked there to do something for a friend, something that had to do with Zac, and he probably owed it to Jun to stick to the subject at hand. Jun moved to where the couch was, and his laptop, and picked up his phone. They were silent as he dialed into his voice mail, and readied the message.
"Here," he said, handing the phone to Sho. "I can't- I can't understand him. Just press one."
Sho stared down at the phone for a long moment. He didn't know what the message contained- a profession of love? A whispered promise to meet up later at some secret time? Something else; something far worse, something he didn't want to hear? There were a million and one things that were choking him and pounding in his ears, and he needed to relay whichever one it was without looking like he wanted to die.
He was Jun's friend. He was Jun's confidante. He could do this.
He pressed one, and put the phone up to his ear.
There was a lot of background noise; the bass hit first, like the beat of a techno song up way too loud, and some static, as if the reception hadn't been great.
"Hey it- it's me. I- I'm sorry that I couldn't get you. I know you're probably- busy. With- everything."
Jun was pacing the room, looking at Sho and wringing his hands in his nervous fashion, fingers curling in and over one another as he popped his knuckles. He was a good actor- he didn't look anxious, but Sho had spent ten years learning how to read the fine lines at the sides of his mouth.
"I- I guess it's the same for you, over there, but this- is the last time I can call you. Should call you. God, everything is such a mess, and I don't know what to do. I don't- I don't know how to deal with this, you know? I just- can't call you anymore. Or anything."
Sho wondered how much was readible on his features. The beers hadn't helped anything- they just made it easier to see things, didn't they, on his face? It must have been something- maybe the way his hand was shaking around the phone, maybe the slight grimace that tugged on the corners of his lips, maybe the little breath that escaped when he realized it was his other worst fear, the opposite of a confession. Jun stopped moving and stared at him.
There was someone talking in the background- yelling, maybe- and it mingled with Zac's voice, which was cracked and laced with thick emotion.
"I have to go. G-goodbye."
All of the noise stopped abruptly as the message clicked off, and the absence of sound was louder than the voice mail had been when Sho pulled the phone away from his ear. There was a long pause.
"So- what was it?" Jun asked.
"Jun," Sho sighed. He couldn't meet his eyes. He couldn't watch him when he relayed the contents- he couldn't watch his world collapse all over again, his walls shatter. He stared down at the face of the phone instead, because it was safe territory, as he numbly recited in Japanese the gist of what the message had said.
He wasn't nearly buzzed enough for this.
After what felt like a lifetime, Jun sat, and the movement finally wrenched Sho's gaze up from the flip screen. The other man sat down heavily on the couch, elbows on his knees. He just sat, staring at the darkened television screen across the room, and Sho rounded the furniture to set the phone back down on the end table near the arm. Even in the dim light he could see the gathering of tears reflecting.
He sat down next to Jun, feeling like the biggest heel in existence, even if the task had been requested of him.
"Jun," he tried. The other man was trying very hard to keep it together, and for the most part, he was winning; a few errant tears escaped to his cheeks, but he brushed them away. He couldn't control the tremble in his lower lip, and it was that quiver that made Sho's stomach knot.
"I should have known, right?" Jun laughed mirthlessly. "I should have- of course I should have known."
Sho couldn't think of anything to say.
"It's better this way, right?" Jun continued, and this time, there was a warble to his tone. "Just get it over with. Quick and painless."
Jun wasn't big on physical contact, especially not with Sho. He didn't like people touching him, or invading his space. But sitting there on the edge of the couch, he looked so lost, so upset, that Sho leaned in to wrap his arms around Jun's shoulders. He was half-expecting the other man to push him away, but Jun just sagged into the embrace like a rag doll, like a puppet with its strings cut.
"This will get better, right?" he whispered, half into Sho's shoulder.
"Yeah," Sho replied, even if he didn't wholly believe it. The lie was kinder, in any case.
Jun sighed, and Sho could feel the action under his arms. There was another moment of quiet, and then Jun finally pulled away, wiping at his face.
"I should probably sleep," he said. "Big day of lying low tomorrow."
"Okay," Sho said. He detached himself and stood. He still felt rotten, but Matsumoto Jun the actor was back, and- well, in any case, he wouldn't be getting much else from Jun that night, emotion-wise. "Call me if you need- anything else."
He left without much else, and made his way down to the street, replaying Zac's message in his head the entire time.
-------
He woke, staring up at the ceiling. Dark hair falling across his shoulder and onto his chest. The familiar itch that came with it. Zac shut his eyes, willing sleep to take him again, but there was already sunshine peeking through the blinds, and it was time to face the reality of what he’d done.
It had been a very long three months. Not even a peep from Japan, although with that mess of a break-up voicemail, he hadn’t expected Jun to retaliate. But what got to him was that it was like he’d never been there at all. In preparation for his New Years’ trip, he’d carried on emails with Aiba too, mostly about the little party they’d had, but even still, Zac felt like he'd been accepted by Jun’s friends.
That chapter of his life was closed, and all he had left were a few scattered pictures and the fading memory of what Jun sounded like. What he smelled like. Tasted like.
Zac ran his fingers through her hair, catching on knots and stirring her awake. “…time is it?”
“Just after 6:00.”
“Mmm, okay,” she mumbled, wrapping herself tighter around him, one slim leg raising beneath the sheets to lie across him. He sighed, unable to control his body’s reaction to another warm body in his bed after all these weeks alone.
It had pained him to even phone her in the first place. He was surprised she’d stopped by at all. There’d been some spark there in December, the day before his flight. He’d remembered the good times they’d shared, their history. And going out, flirting with girls at clubs, giving an extra smile to the cashier at Starbucks, all of that was fake. If anything, Zac always knew that he could be himself around her.
Mostly.
There’d been the questions he expected while they watched TV the night before. Are you gay now? He didn’t know. He knew that he’d been attracted to Jun, but he wasn’t exactly partying in West Hollywood every night. Did you and the other guy break up? Yes, it had pained him to say. Are you done with him? Yes.
Are you going to use me? Am I just some front for you?
“No,” he’d lied, remembering his last night with Jun, the nerves and tension after leaving the restaurant. He couldn’t stifle his feelings any longer. He had to make a break with that part of himself. He had to do something Zac Efron, the tabloid feature would do. Something Zac Efron, the star would do. The real Zac had to disappear.
He took the feelings he’d had for Jun and replaced them. Erased the softness of his lips, putting her sticky sweet glossy ones in their place. The smooth planes of his chest gone, the soft swell of her breasts there instead. She’d said nothing more than his name as he found the warmth between her thighs, losing himself as he compartmentalized everything else. Japan was a distant dream. What he had in front of him had to be reality.
And as she slept now, curled up the way she always had, he could already hear his manager praising him. Zac could see the flash bulbs, the photo spreads in the tabloids. There’d still be suspicion. It would dog him for the rest of his career. But he’d done his part. He’d cast off Japan, wiped Jun from his mind.
The two of them would go for coffee together, holding hands. They’d attend a movie premiere, get photographed out to lunch. Hell, they could allude to a sex tape if they wanted to go the whole nine yards.
It would be easy.
He detangled himself from her, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head as he headed for the bathroom. No soap in the shower. Annoying. He opened his cabinet, poking around for another bar. Reaching in the back for another box of soap, he knocked over a small travel bottle of shampoo.
As he righted it, it felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
Grand Hyatt Tokyo.
Yeah, he thought, grabbing the tiny bottle and throwing it angrily in the trash. This would be real easy.
-------
"I heard a new joke today!" Aiba announced, walking into the green room.
"Mmm-hmm," Jun murmured, nose buried in the newspaper. He was reading an article about one of the Tokyo Giants players being traded to the American Baseball League- some team in Cleveland, apparently, though Jun had no idea where Cleveland was. Beside him, Sho was knee-deep in the financial section, paper rustling everytime he turned the page and made "hmm" noises in thought.
"Don't you want to hear my joke?" Aiba asked. He seemed completely unphased that neither was paying much attention to his entrance.
"Okay," Sho said, distractedly.
"A Freudian slip is where you say one thing, and mean your mother!" Aiba said. There was a long moment of quiet, and Aiba sighed. "Yeah, I don't really get it, either."
"I get it," Sho laughed a little, looking over the top of the paper, "but I think you're supposed to use that after someone actually makes a Freudian slip."
"Oh, yeah," Aiba said. He snapped his fingers. "The Australian guy. Didn't he wrestle alligators or something?"
Sho sputtered in laughter, and even Jun chuckled into the crease of his paper.
"Aiba, he was Austrian," Sho said. "And he was a psychiatrist, not a zoologist. And they were crocodiles, not alligators!"
"Wait, what's the difference between crocodiles and alligators?" Aiba asked. He looked to Jun like he expected an answer, and Jun just shrugged.
"You're the one on the zoo show," he pointed out.
"It's the snout," Sho said, pantomiming with one hand in front of his face. "And the teeth, I think."
Aiba went to go and get whoever's laptop was halfway out of the bag- Nino's, probably- and Jun looked strangely at Sho over the pages in his lap.
"How did you know that?" he asked, curious.
"I know lots of random facts," Sho laughed. "Maybe I should go on some kind of quiz show."
Aiba moved back to the chair across from them, laptop on his knees. He was typing something in quickly, and biting his lower lip a bit. He clicked a few times with his finger, and then his face lit up.
"Wow, Sho was right!" he exclaimed happily. "Crocodiles have V-shaped snouts, and alligators have rounder snouts. And their teeth are different."
"He probably just got lucky," Jun said. "Quick, ask him something else."
"Like what?" Aiba asked.
"Like- how many centimeters are in an inch."
"2.54," Sho said immediately. Aiba began clicking again, typing something into the google search bar.
"No way," he said. "That's right, too."
Jun stared at Sho across the couch, half in admiration and half in surprise.
"You really do know a lot of random facts," he conceded.
"I told you!" Sho said. "I wasn't a tutor for nothing. You should know that."
Jun should, really. It brought up memories of them working at the table side by side, hunched over a book with papers splayed across the counter. The hours they'd spent trying to drill in all the information Jun needed for his tests were permanantly etched in Jun's mind- and so was the feeling of butterflies he'd always gotten back then, whenever the doorbell rang and he knew it was time for his tutoring session. He sat back, overcome with nostalgia, wondering why just thinking about that time brought the flutterings back to his stomach.
"Wait, wait, how long would it take to get to the moon?" Aiba asked, excited.
"That's not a random fact!" Sho sputtered. "It would depend on all sorts of different things."
"Like what?"
"Like, what you were travelling in, or if it was night or day," Sho said.
"Well, just give me a ball-park figure," Aiba suggested.
He tried to bury himself in the baseball article again, but his heart was in his throat, and it was incredibly distracting. It had been ages since he'd felt that particularly awkward emotion flare up- and honestly, he was long over it. He was long over all of it. He had been since things got incredibly awkward after the debut; the last thing he needed was more trauma mucking up his inner thoughts.
"Fine, fine," Aiba was relenting. "I heard something about the Tokyo Giants in the hall."
"Jun's got the sports page," Sho said, but Jun was only half-listening, and he didn't respond. He just stared at the characters on the paper, trying to block everything in his head out entirely. After a second, there was a rustle of movement on the couch, and then Sho's head was very near to his. It startled him, and not just because he hadn't seen the other man moving. He narrowly avoided jumping.
"Yeah, he's getting traded," Sho announced, scanning the article Jun had been reading. He pulled back a bit, and gave Jun a funny look. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," Jun managed to choke out, but his heartbeat was screaming in his ears. Sho moved away, and the scene of his soap lingered behind.
"Can I have that section after you?" Aiba asked.
"You can have it now," Jun said, tossing it over with a bit more force than was necessary. "I'm going for a walk."
"I- okay, thanks," Aiba called, as the door slammed shut behind him.
-------
Summer was just around the corner, and Sho was deeply regretting the jacket he’d worn that day. There was a photo shoot and interview that afternoon, and he was starving. His stomach was already growling as he pushed through the doors of the ramen place. There were mostly salarymen hurrying in and out on their lunch breaks, so hopefully, he’d get enough privacy to grab food.
Jun was already waiting at a table shoved in the back of the place. What a difference half a year could make. After lying low for so many months, enduring all the rumors and scrutiny, Jun was looking healthy again. No more dark circles, he was gaining back the weight he’d lost under stress. Sho could even see changes in his demeanor. He was almost happy.
Of course, he wasn’t going to forget Zac entirely. That would be impossible. And as much trouble as the American’s presence had caused, Jun’s happiness then had been genuine. Sho just hoped that Jun would continue his recovery. “Who’s buying this time?” he asked, sliding into a seat across from the other man.
“Already ordered,” Jun mumbled as he sipped from a water bottle. “It was getting crowded, and I wanted to make sure you got the special you liked before it sold out.”
“Wonderful,” he replied, and his stomach grumbled in approval. Sho didn’t really care what he ate, but the fact that Jun had already known what to order for him made him smile.
“Looking forward to the interview?” Jun asked as the bowls of piping hot ramen were set down before them.
He shrugged. “Didn’t we do the whole ‘where to go on a honeymoon’ thing last year?”
Jun nodded, slurping up some noodles. “Maybe I’ll give a different answer this year. All I know is that Leader’s going to say a fishing trip. Again.”
“How romantic,” Sho laughed. His phone rang, and he rolled his eyes. He was starving, didn’t this person care? The caller ID said it was Nino. No. This person didn’t care. “Hello?”
“What time was it again?”
Sho rolled his eyes. Nino had a manager for these questions. “3:00 PM.”
“That’s kind of an odd time isn’t it?”
“I’m having lunch right now, so…” Jun looked up, tilting his head to inquire who it was, and Sho mouthed Nino’s name. The other man nodded, understanding.
“Lunch with…?”
“With Matsujun.”
“Oh really?” There was that tone again. The little implication in Nino’s voice, the hints and the suggestions that had plagued Sho at the beginning of the year and the months prior. Nino seemed to think there was a lot more going on, and Sho didn’t exactly appreciate it.
“We’re having ramen. It’s as exciting as it sounds.”
Jun laughed, taking another sip from his water. Nino knew just which buttons of Sho’s to push. It seemed the DoS had a runner-up. Sho balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder, picking up the warm bowl and his chopsticks. Nino just had to talk until he was satisfied in making Sho uncomfortable.
“You two on a date?”
Sho munched on a mouthful of food. “We’re not,” he said, probably not looking the most attractive right then. Why did Nino’s nagging always make him feel so strange? Sure, the past year had been a tough one for his friendship with Jun, but they’d managed to weather the storm and come out of it closer than they’d been in years. Did Nino need to read more into it?
“You know, Sho-san…Matsujun used to have a huge crush on you.”
Sho clumsily dropped the phone onto the table with a loud clatter, startling Jun and sending his water bottle in his lap. “Oh shit, sorry,” he said to Jun in embarrassment, seeing the other man get up and start wiping his pants with his napkin. Sho had to look away, grabbing his phone again.
“Surprise,” he heard Nino say.
“You’re such a liar,” Sho grumbled, trying to mop up more of the spilled water with his own napkin while Jun was preoccupied with trying to dry his pants.
“What’s he saying?” Jun asked, but Sho waved him off.
“We’ll see you at the shoot…”
“But aren’t you even the slightest bit curious? He practically worshipped you. Everyone could see it. And now look at you guys, lunch dates and always talking. It’s like this past year never happened. I think you guys are in loooove.”
He resisted the urge to simply hang up on Nino. It was a prank. It was so obviously a prank. If Jun liked anyone, it had been Zac. Things had been too tense for Jun to try and date lately anyhow. And it was insane, the thought of him and Jun. They’d known each other forever. Nino was always tricking them - this was just him trying to mess with Sho’s head.
“Can I get back to my lunch please?”
“Is he looking at you right now?”
“What?”
“Look around sometime, Sho-san. You’ll be surprised when you see who’s staring back.”
He looked up just in time to see Jun look back down at his ramen bowl quickly. Sho felt his face grow warm, but it was probably just the weather and the heat from the cramped restaurant’s kitchen.
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
Sho didn’t know how to respond, and before he even realized it, he felt Jun’s fingers by his face and he jumped. But Jun was just grabbing the phone away and putting it to his own ear.
“You’re being a real pain in the ass today,” Jun told Nino, his voice casual and controlled, very much unlike how Sho was feeling. He focused on trying to eat his meal, listening to the various noisy conversations going on in the restaurant around them. Whatever Nino was teasing Jun about, the other man wasn’t saying anything. His face was almost eerily calm.
“You’re full of it,” was the next thing Jun said, laughing, eating more of his ramen. Why weren’t Nino’s jokes pissing him off? With the way Jun’s year had gone, the last thing he needed was Nino teasing him about being in love. Well, making up something about him being in love.
Jun rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have a game you could…”
Sho saw Jun’s expression shift considerably. Well, maybe Nino had finally crossed a line. Jun said a terse “Bye” before closing Sho’s phone. He held it out across the table, and their fingers brushed as Sho took the phone back. It was like a jolt of electricity as they touched. In all their years knowing each other, it had never been like this. It was all Nino’s teasing. He was letting it get to him.
“He’s being a jerk, huh?” Sho asked quietly, hoping Jun would laugh it off. He didn’t. What the hell had Nino said? Had he told Jun the same thing? Or was there more to it? Either way, Sho didn’t get a chance to inquire.
Jun was already standing, leaving cash on the table. “You finish eating. I have to grab some things first. I’ll see you at the shoot later.”
“Sure,” Sho mumbled, watching Jun’s back as he left. Just when things were back to normal. He glanced at the cell phone in his hand, remembering the way their hands had touched. He shook his head. “This is stupid,” he said to himself, shoving his phone away to finish his lunch.
Chapter: 10/12
Fandom: Arashi
Character, Pairing(s): Matsumoto Jun/Zac Efron, Sho --> Jun, implied past Jun --> Sho
Rating: T
Warnings: Language.
Summary: What had been a one-time thing has turned into ... not a one-time thing. And they aren't the only ones involved.
It was just after 7:00 AM when he felt a hand shaking him awake. “-your manager,” he heard Sho mumble.
He rolled over onto his back. Sho was holding the phone out expectantly, and Jun was ashamed to see how tired the other man looked. He’d gotten a few hours of sleep while Sho had sat up to wait for phone calls? He accepted the phone in embarrassment while Sho nodded and left his bedroom, closing the door behind him quietly.
“Hello.”
“Car should be arriving in the next twenty minutes, rear entrance. You can still expect some people waiting in the alley, but it’s the best I could arrange,” his manager said, sounding as exhausted as Sho had just seconds earlier. “You’re coming right to the office. We’ve got lawyers, Johnny’s sent people…”
Johnny already knew. Jun wasn’t exactly surprised to hear it. He wondered if he’d still have a job when he arrived. His manager was still talking. “-and everyone’s been up all night on damage control here. I had to pull people out of bed to come in and…”
“I’m very, very sorry.”
“I’m already ordering thank you gifts, so that will be reflected in your next bank statement.”
Jun rolled his eyes. What hadn’t he thought of? “That’s fine. I am sorry to have caused you so much trouble.”
“It’s my job.” There was a pause. “Johnny wants to speak with you personally when you arrive. I think it’s in your best interest to be honest and apologize.”
Jun tossed off his blanket and headed for his closet to grab some clothes. “Of course.” His eyes itched, and he felt like shit. Not only had he fucked up so completely, but he’d disappointed Johnny, who’d always had such faith in him. He found a t-shirt, a jacket and jeans and tossed them on the bed. “I’ll be ready when the car gets here.”
“We’re going to fix this. It could have been a lot worse.” You could have gotten someone pregnant, was what the man was implying. You could have been found snorting cocaine. But even now there were people at the offices trying to help him. People with families and other obligations sitting around and strategizing how to save his ass. He had a hard time imagining anything worse.
“Thank you.” He clicked the phone shut and tossed it on the bed, heading into his bathroom and starting the shower. A million thoughts went in and out of his mind as the water sprayed, and he wondered if he’d even get a chance to email Zac before the day was out. He could already see Johnny demanding he end all contact with him. To distance himself, to deny deny deny and hope it would all blow over soon.
He brushed his teeth and dressed quickly, not even bothering to dry off and fix his hair. The last thing he needed to be was a spoiled, selfish brat making the driver downstairs wait for him. Glasses were quicker than contacts, and even though he still felt awful, he at least looked a lot better than he had minutes earlier.
Grabbing his phone and wallet, he headed out of the bedroom. “Thanks for answering the…”
Jun saw Sho sitting in his armchair, completely asleep. Guilt pounded in his head. He may have been buying thank you gifts for the other staff, but he owed Sho a hell of a lot more for sticking around. He grabbed a blanket from the couch, draping it over him.
“You making breakfast?” Sho mumbled in his sleep, and Jun couldn’t help grinning.
“You sleep now, alright?” he whispered, making sure the blanket was tucked around him before grabbing his keys and a heavier coat. Jun took one last look back at Sho before opening his apartment door. This would not be a good day.
-------
It took Zac ten minutes to turn on the television.
He knew he was just being silly- the news had better things to air than information about his scandal, and his manager had been working double overtime to try and rectify the situation as quickly as possible (as evidenced by Zac's plans for later that night, which were to go out and be "spotted" with Ashley and a few of her female friends), but it still made him nervous just looking at the remote control sitting on the end table.
He'd been swamped the last few days, wtih emails and phone calls from everyone he knew. There was one person he didn't want to talk to, and one person he did, and the unfortunate truth was that the one who kept calling was the former, rather than the latter. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket, and he looked at the screen, only to hit ignore when Vanessa's name popped up. He couldn't face her yet; not by phone, not by text. Even if she believed his manager's work of dispelling the rumors as "factless lies", she had to know. She had to suspect what the real reason behind their break-up was.
He scrolled through the missed call list. He'd missed Jun's call a few hours ago, and he hadn't left a message. With his muscles trembling, Zac hit the call back button, putting the phone up to his ear.
Each ring felt like a lifetime.
His heart nearly stopped when he finally heard Jun's voice, only to realize it was his voice mail.
This is Matsumoto Jun. Leave a message.
Zac sat for several incredibly long seconds, struggling to form words. He couldn't say anything in a voice mail- he couldn't. He tried to find something that was appropriate, but there was nothing. There wasn't anything he could say that would make the situation any better, and certainly not a message left after a beep.
He closed the phone with a snap, leaving nothing at all.
There was a lump in his throat that didn't go away, not even as he dressed for the evening and threw some gel in his hair, weaving his hands through it. Everything reminded him of Jun- of being together. He swallowed the sensations away and grabbed his jacket as he was leaving, flinging it half-heartedly over his shoulder. His manager had demanded that the outing happen, and be obvious; it had to be public, and it had to look spontaneous, which was never an easy compromise to achieve.
He met Ashley outside a trendy New Age restaurant (she hadn't suggested sushi, and he was glad for it). Her hair was piled on top of her head, and her jacket was glittering. She gave him a smile that spoke volumes when he gave her a hug, and held on just a second longer than was necessary. It was nice. It was nice to have someone understand, at least.
"The girls are going to meet us at the club after dinner," she said.
"Great," he sighed. She squeezed his shoulder a bit.
"Let's just eat," she said. "It's just us. We'll have a good time, and not think about any of the stuipd publicity stuff."
It was easier said than done, but it was easier with just Ashley. Zac found himself glad she suggested that they get dinner together alone first; he didn't need the rumor-quelling girlfriends there yet. Dinner was easy and companionable, and Ashley strayed the conversation as far from possible from anything remotely related to Jun.
Three of her friends met them outside the doors to the club. One made sure to hug him a bit inappropriately, hand straying down to his lower back, and he noted that all three were wearing incredibly short skirts- his manager had been very thorough, it seemed. If he didn't feel like something was constantly stealing the oxygen from his lungs, pressing against his stomach, he would have appreciated it more. But his smile was forced as they entered the clubs and ordered a round of drinks.
The girls wanted to dance, but he needed more booze for that.
"It's on me," Ashley said, with another sad smile. "You've earned it."
"Thanks," he replied, mirthlessly, downing the vodka tonic far faster than he should have. He didn't care how miserable he felt the next day- a few hours of bliss was worth it.
"You should dance," she said, inclining her head a bit to the right, over Zac's shoulder. "There's a photographer right over there, against the wall."
He let her pull him onto the floor. When the lights were dim and the music was overpowering, it was a bit easier to pretend that the figures pressed up against him weren't Ashley's friends. It was a bit easier to give himself just a little while longer, a few moments more in the fantasy- in the best thing he'd ever had. Someone put another drink in his hand, and then another. He was grateful to whoever it was.
The photographer must have gotten what he wanted, because after awhile he moved on, to find Paris Hilton or one her lackeys further down the dance floor. Zac's head was buzzing and the beat of the bass was screaming against his ears even in the downtime between songs. He'd thought that he'd find respite in inebriation; instead, he found himself wholly unable to stop the emotions from going everywhere at once. His carefully constructed bounds were falling apart all over one of the girls' red heels, and he was powerless to stop it.
He stumbed off the floor, into the alcove that connected the barely code-compliant bathrooms with the rest of the room, struggling to catch his breath. There were tears burning in the corners of his vision- tears, and the smell of Jun's cologne, and the wisps of feather-light caresses against his ears.
He sagged against the wall, covered with old gig flyers and drink specials.
"Are you okay?" came Ashley's voice, near his shoulder. Her hands were on his back, on his arms, something solid and tangible.
"No," he gasped, into his palms. "I can't do this. I can't do this."
"Do what?" she asked. "The club? I think it's okay to leave, I think they've gotten-"
"I can't do this," he wheezed. "I have to end it, and I can't."
She didn't say anything else, but crouched lower to put one arm around his shoulders, her cheek against his shoulder.
"I can't do it because I feel like I can't breathe every time I try," he said, tears catching on his mouth. Everything tasted like salt- regret and salt. "Just saying it out loud- I can't. I can't hear his voice and go through with it. And I have to."
Ashley's hand was rubbing gentle circles on his back.
"I know," she said, finally, softly.
"I feel like I'm dying," he sobbed.
"Call him," she said.
"It's the middle of the afternoon there," he laughed, wiping at his face with the back of his hand. "He's filming. He won't pick up."
"Maybe it's better that way," Ashley offered. She pulled Zac's phone out of his pocket and held it out for him. There was nothing written on her face- no judgment, no pity. In a way, it was almost worse, because he wanted to rail against her for making sense, to rage at her for not having to go through it, as irrational as his anger was. He just reached out to take his phone from her palm.
"Yeah," he said. The word felt like it was choking him. "Maybe- you're right."
She helped him to his feet, fingers curled protectively around his elbow.
"It's a one-stall bathroom," she said. "I'll wait here and guard the door."
The restroom stank, and half of the light bulbs were out. His breath was shaking as he dialed the number and listened to the opposite line ring. The bass outside was only slightly muted by the flimsy door and walls, and it still shook beneath his feet.
This is Matsumoto Jun. Leave a message.
"Hey it- it's me," he stumbled. "I- I'm sorry that I couldn't get you. I know you're probably- busy. With- everything."
The alcohol in his blood wasn't helping him to form the words that needed to be said. He put a hand against the wall in an attempt to steady himself.
"I- I guess it's the same for you, over there, but this- is the last time I can call you. Should call you. God, everything is such a mess, and I don't know what to do. I don't- I don't know how to deal with this, you know? I just- can't call you anymore. Or anything."
The bubble of reality was forcing itself up through his throat- he had a few second delay, before his brain registered what he was doing, and then it was going to be all over. He had to stay ahead of his thoughts, before he could react; before he could realize he was ending the only thing that had ever really made him feel that happy.
"God, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, Jun. I-"
There was a knock on the door, and he could hear Ashley's furious cries of "it's occupied, stop it!".
"I have to go. G-goodbye."
He clicked the phone shut, trying desperately to ignore the fact that all the wind had gone out of his lungs. He stumbled out of the door, past the angry guy who really needed to piss, into Ashley's arm, nearly falling. He couldn't force himself to say anything.
"Okay," she said, hugging him. "Let's go home, okay?"
The ringing in his ears lasted for a full 24 hours, but the taste of anguish in his mouth lasted a lot longer than that.
--------
The past several days had not been kind to him. He hadn’t slept, had barely eaten, and he now had a cadre of photographers trained outside his apartment building every morning. He hadn’t had much to add to the apology letter - his manager and other staff had composed it. All he’d done was sign his name to it. He was still reeling from the meeting with Johnny.
The man hadn’t yelled or cursed or any of the things Jun might have expected. Which made it worse. He could take anger. He could take shouting. But Johnny had merely looked at him in disappointment before waving him off with a “be more careful next time.” The meeting had barely lasted a minute before the secretary was ushering him out to his next set of “image discussions” where he was coached on how to respond to any official outlets asking about the pictures or about Zac.
He’d denied everything. How did he and Zac meet? They were introduced at an event. Why did Zac come back to visit him? He wanted to learn more about Japan, not him. Why did Zac come back a second time? They’d become friends. More than friends? Absolutely not. Zac was “like any of his juniors” - someone to be guided, someone to look out for.
And what about the pictures? Out of context. They were joking around. “Anyone in Arashi will tell you the same” he’d been coached. It was like learning lines for a drama. There was a character named Matsumoto Jun, a role to be played. And his four fellow members had fallen in step beside him, given the same lies to spout off. All their stories were identical. The little party at Aiba’s had become proof positive that there was no ulterior motive - he’d been a guest of the entire group.
So he was trained. It wasn’t so different from learning new choreography.
His radio show for the week had been “postponed” in favor of a special report on bullying in schools. Completely random, but nobody wanted to come out and say that it was because of the pictures. Other filming had gone on that week. He’d played the Matsumoto Jun part as usual, though his scripted lines on Shukudai had been nearly eliminated and given to Nino. The audience cheered for Arashi, but he wondered if they cheered for him?
There’d been letters and emails from fans, good and bad, his manager had said. But he hadn’t been given access to them. “Let it blow over,” his manager said. “Let them calm down.”
He was kind of thankful that he’d taught himself to cook. Filming obligations were done for the day, and he headed straight home as he had the past several days. Don’t go out, don’t be seen. Just stay put. Gradually, this bit of imprisonment would be relaxed, and he’d be able to go out with friends again. And by friends, it had to be other members, his senpais, his juniors, nobody that would send off alarm bells.
Jun opened the door to his apartment and shut it behind him, kicking off his shoes. He was a grown man, an adult, and he was pretty much under house arrest. Leader was stopping by later, bringing some photos from a fishing trip in Okinawa. Jun had seen the pictures before, but he didn’t care. He needed company.
Dinner was ready by the time Ohno arrived, and they ate quietly. His friend was no stranger to scandal, and he’d been a steady, if silent confidante these past days. It had been at Sho’s insistence. They didn’t talk about the pictures or about Zac or anything having to do with all the lies and denials.
They talked about fishing. About a new single. About another member’s drama plans for the year ahead. They laughed, joked, drank beers and smoked, and before Jun knew it, it was after midnight.
Ohno excused himself then, ostensibly to go join other friends at a bar in the neighborhood. “Be seeing you,” Leader said, not making eye contact as he grabbed his jacket. But Jun knew what had been implied - “really wish you could come too.”
Alone again, Jun grabbed his phone, turning it back on after having it off most of the evening for some semblance of peace and quiet. There was only one voicemail out of the lot that he bothered to listen to. It was Zac.
It was noisy, as if the other man was in traffic or out in a crowd. And he was speaking English, rapid fire, and Jun could only get every other word. There were apologies. He was obviously upset. He replayed the voicemail at least eight times before snapping the phone shut and tossing it on the coffee table in frustration.
They shouldn’t speak at all, but hearing his voice again had reminded Jun of how happy he’d been just a short time ago, how carefree and easy spending time with Zac had been. But what had Zac said?
He had to know. Maybe there was some code, some message to give Jun just an ounce of hope after the prolonged separation. Something to look forward to once everything got back to normal. He put the cell phone on speaker, typing what he thought he heard into an online translator, replaying it and using a dictionary, but it was no use. Zac spoke too fast and there was just too much background noise.
But there was no way he could call. No way he could beg Zac to repeat everything that had made him so upset. It was just about 1:00 AM, and though he’d relied too heavily on Sho the past several days, he was the only one he could trust.
It was almost ironic. Sho, who’d betrayed his trust countless times over things with Zac, was now the only person he could turn to for help. He grabbed his phone, dialing the number, and to his surprise, Sho answered on the first ring.
“Sorry to wake you.”
“You didn’t.”
Jun fumbled with the ring on his finger, twisting it in his anxiety and need to hear Zac’s message. “If you…if you could listen to a voicemail, an English voicemail…could you tell me what it says?”
There was a lengthy pause, as if Sho was considering his own complicity in everything that had gone on amongst the three of them. And Jun knew that Zac’s message might be bad - would Sho really want to relay a message like that? “Like right now?”
“Oh…well, no, not right now…” Jun mumbled, realizing what kind of ridiculous request he was making. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to bother you. I’ll just try listening again and…”
“No,” Sho interrupted. “No, it’s fine. I can help you. Just…give me an hour to get over there, okay? I’m out right now and…”
Guilt was worse than a migraine. “You don’t have to…”
“I said it’s fine. In an hour."
“An hour, then,” Jun repeated, hearing Sho hang up. He stared at the phone, wondering what the hell Zac had broken all the protocols that had been set up by their respective management teams to say.
He’d find out soon.
--------
It actually took an hour and seven minutes to get to Jun's front door, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was feeling in his gut as he rapped his knuckles against the portal. Something sour, something tinged with sympathy; but none of those things he could say aloud, because Jun wouldn't want any of them. There were footsteps on the other side, and the door opened. Jun looked a little rumpled, a little worse for the wear- but all things considered, it was probably better than it could have been.
"I- you were out?" the other man asked.
"I said I was," Sho replied, walking in and bringing a wave of cigarette smoke and alcohol with him. Jun shut the door behind him, and took Sho's coat.
"I'm sorry," Jun said, automatically, as he hung the coat up. "I didn't have anyone else to call..."
The statement died out but the pleased sensation sweeping through Sho's form didn't. He tried to ignore it- he was asked there to do something for a friend, something that had to do with Zac, and he probably owed it to Jun to stick to the subject at hand. Jun moved to where the couch was, and his laptop, and picked up his phone. They were silent as he dialed into his voice mail, and readied the message.
"Here," he said, handing the phone to Sho. "I can't- I can't understand him. Just press one."
Sho stared down at the phone for a long moment. He didn't know what the message contained- a profession of love? A whispered promise to meet up later at some secret time? Something else; something far worse, something he didn't want to hear? There were a million and one things that were choking him and pounding in his ears, and he needed to relay whichever one it was without looking like he wanted to die.
He was Jun's friend. He was Jun's confidante. He could do this.
He pressed one, and put the phone up to his ear.
There was a lot of background noise; the bass hit first, like the beat of a techno song up way too loud, and some static, as if the reception hadn't been great.
"Hey it- it's me. I- I'm sorry that I couldn't get you. I know you're probably- busy. With- everything."
Jun was pacing the room, looking at Sho and wringing his hands in his nervous fashion, fingers curling in and over one another as he popped his knuckles. He was a good actor- he didn't look anxious, but Sho had spent ten years learning how to read the fine lines at the sides of his mouth.
"I- I guess it's the same for you, over there, but this- is the last time I can call you. Should call you. God, everything is such a mess, and I don't know what to do. I don't- I don't know how to deal with this, you know? I just- can't call you anymore. Or anything."
Sho wondered how much was readible on his features. The beers hadn't helped anything- they just made it easier to see things, didn't they, on his face? It must have been something- maybe the way his hand was shaking around the phone, maybe the slight grimace that tugged on the corners of his lips, maybe the little breath that escaped when he realized it was his other worst fear, the opposite of a confession. Jun stopped moving and stared at him.
There was someone talking in the background- yelling, maybe- and it mingled with Zac's voice, which was cracked and laced with thick emotion.
"I have to go. G-goodbye."
All of the noise stopped abruptly as the message clicked off, and the absence of sound was louder than the voice mail had been when Sho pulled the phone away from his ear. There was a long pause.
"So- what was it?" Jun asked.
"Jun," Sho sighed. He couldn't meet his eyes. He couldn't watch him when he relayed the contents- he couldn't watch his world collapse all over again, his walls shatter. He stared down at the face of the phone instead, because it was safe territory, as he numbly recited in Japanese the gist of what the message had said.
He wasn't nearly buzzed enough for this.
After what felt like a lifetime, Jun sat, and the movement finally wrenched Sho's gaze up from the flip screen. The other man sat down heavily on the couch, elbows on his knees. He just sat, staring at the darkened television screen across the room, and Sho rounded the furniture to set the phone back down on the end table near the arm. Even in the dim light he could see the gathering of tears reflecting.
He sat down next to Jun, feeling like the biggest heel in existence, even if the task had been requested of him.
"Jun," he tried. The other man was trying very hard to keep it together, and for the most part, he was winning; a few errant tears escaped to his cheeks, but he brushed them away. He couldn't control the tremble in his lower lip, and it was that quiver that made Sho's stomach knot.
"I should have known, right?" Jun laughed mirthlessly. "I should have- of course I should have known."
Sho couldn't think of anything to say.
"It's better this way, right?" Jun continued, and this time, there was a warble to his tone. "Just get it over with. Quick and painless."
Jun wasn't big on physical contact, especially not with Sho. He didn't like people touching him, or invading his space. But sitting there on the edge of the couch, he looked so lost, so upset, that Sho leaned in to wrap his arms around Jun's shoulders. He was half-expecting the other man to push him away, but Jun just sagged into the embrace like a rag doll, like a puppet with its strings cut.
"This will get better, right?" he whispered, half into Sho's shoulder.
"Yeah," Sho replied, even if he didn't wholly believe it. The lie was kinder, in any case.
Jun sighed, and Sho could feel the action under his arms. There was another moment of quiet, and then Jun finally pulled away, wiping at his face.
"I should probably sleep," he said. "Big day of lying low tomorrow."
"Okay," Sho said. He detached himself and stood. He still felt rotten, but Matsumoto Jun the actor was back, and- well, in any case, he wouldn't be getting much else from Jun that night, emotion-wise. "Call me if you need- anything else."
He left without much else, and made his way down to the street, replaying Zac's message in his head the entire time.
-------
He woke, staring up at the ceiling. Dark hair falling across his shoulder and onto his chest. The familiar itch that came with it. Zac shut his eyes, willing sleep to take him again, but there was already sunshine peeking through the blinds, and it was time to face the reality of what he’d done.
It had been a very long three months. Not even a peep from Japan, although with that mess of a break-up voicemail, he hadn’t expected Jun to retaliate. But what got to him was that it was like he’d never been there at all. In preparation for his New Years’ trip, he’d carried on emails with Aiba too, mostly about the little party they’d had, but even still, Zac felt like he'd been accepted by Jun’s friends.
That chapter of his life was closed, and all he had left were a few scattered pictures and the fading memory of what Jun sounded like. What he smelled like. Tasted like.
Zac ran his fingers through her hair, catching on knots and stirring her awake. “…time is it?”
“Just after 6:00.”
“Mmm, okay,” she mumbled, wrapping herself tighter around him, one slim leg raising beneath the sheets to lie across him. He sighed, unable to control his body’s reaction to another warm body in his bed after all these weeks alone.
It had pained him to even phone her in the first place. He was surprised she’d stopped by at all. There’d been some spark there in December, the day before his flight. He’d remembered the good times they’d shared, their history. And going out, flirting with girls at clubs, giving an extra smile to the cashier at Starbucks, all of that was fake. If anything, Zac always knew that he could be himself around her.
Mostly.
There’d been the questions he expected while they watched TV the night before. Are you gay now? He didn’t know. He knew that he’d been attracted to Jun, but he wasn’t exactly partying in West Hollywood every night. Did you and the other guy break up? Yes, it had pained him to say. Are you done with him? Yes.
Are you going to use me? Am I just some front for you?
“No,” he’d lied, remembering his last night with Jun, the nerves and tension after leaving the restaurant. He couldn’t stifle his feelings any longer. He had to make a break with that part of himself. He had to do something Zac Efron, the tabloid feature would do. Something Zac Efron, the star would do. The real Zac had to disappear.
He took the feelings he’d had for Jun and replaced them. Erased the softness of his lips, putting her sticky sweet glossy ones in their place. The smooth planes of his chest gone, the soft swell of her breasts there instead. She’d said nothing more than his name as he found the warmth between her thighs, losing himself as he compartmentalized everything else. Japan was a distant dream. What he had in front of him had to be reality.
And as she slept now, curled up the way she always had, he could already hear his manager praising him. Zac could see the flash bulbs, the photo spreads in the tabloids. There’d still be suspicion. It would dog him for the rest of his career. But he’d done his part. He’d cast off Japan, wiped Jun from his mind.
The two of them would go for coffee together, holding hands. They’d attend a movie premiere, get photographed out to lunch. Hell, they could allude to a sex tape if they wanted to go the whole nine yards.
It would be easy.
He detangled himself from her, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head as he headed for the bathroom. No soap in the shower. Annoying. He opened his cabinet, poking around for another bar. Reaching in the back for another box of soap, he knocked over a small travel bottle of shampoo.
As he righted it, it felt like he’d been punched in the gut.
Grand Hyatt Tokyo.
Yeah, he thought, grabbing the tiny bottle and throwing it angrily in the trash. This would be real easy.
-------
"I heard a new joke today!" Aiba announced, walking into the green room.
"Mmm-hmm," Jun murmured, nose buried in the newspaper. He was reading an article about one of the Tokyo Giants players being traded to the American Baseball League- some team in Cleveland, apparently, though Jun had no idea where Cleveland was. Beside him, Sho was knee-deep in the financial section, paper rustling everytime he turned the page and made "hmm" noises in thought.
"Don't you want to hear my joke?" Aiba asked. He seemed completely unphased that neither was paying much attention to his entrance.
"Okay," Sho said, distractedly.
"A Freudian slip is where you say one thing, and mean your mother!" Aiba said. There was a long moment of quiet, and Aiba sighed. "Yeah, I don't really get it, either."
"I get it," Sho laughed a little, looking over the top of the paper, "but I think you're supposed to use that after someone actually makes a Freudian slip."
"Oh, yeah," Aiba said. He snapped his fingers. "The Australian guy. Didn't he wrestle alligators or something?"
Sho sputtered in laughter, and even Jun chuckled into the crease of his paper.
"Aiba, he was Austrian," Sho said. "And he was a psychiatrist, not a zoologist. And they were crocodiles, not alligators!"
"Wait, what's the difference between crocodiles and alligators?" Aiba asked. He looked to Jun like he expected an answer, and Jun just shrugged.
"You're the one on the zoo show," he pointed out.
"It's the snout," Sho said, pantomiming with one hand in front of his face. "And the teeth, I think."
Aiba went to go and get whoever's laptop was halfway out of the bag- Nino's, probably- and Jun looked strangely at Sho over the pages in his lap.
"How did you know that?" he asked, curious.
"I know lots of random facts," Sho laughed. "Maybe I should go on some kind of quiz show."
Aiba moved back to the chair across from them, laptop on his knees. He was typing something in quickly, and biting his lower lip a bit. He clicked a few times with his finger, and then his face lit up.
"Wow, Sho was right!" he exclaimed happily. "Crocodiles have V-shaped snouts, and alligators have rounder snouts. And their teeth are different."
"He probably just got lucky," Jun said. "Quick, ask him something else."
"Like what?" Aiba asked.
"Like- how many centimeters are in an inch."
"2.54," Sho said immediately. Aiba began clicking again, typing something into the google search bar.
"No way," he said. "That's right, too."
Jun stared at Sho across the couch, half in admiration and half in surprise.
"You really do know a lot of random facts," he conceded.
"I told you!" Sho said. "I wasn't a tutor for nothing. You should know that."
Jun should, really. It brought up memories of them working at the table side by side, hunched over a book with papers splayed across the counter. The hours they'd spent trying to drill in all the information Jun needed for his tests were permanantly etched in Jun's mind- and so was the feeling of butterflies he'd always gotten back then, whenever the doorbell rang and he knew it was time for his tutoring session. He sat back, overcome with nostalgia, wondering why just thinking about that time brought the flutterings back to his stomach.
"Wait, wait, how long would it take to get to the moon?" Aiba asked, excited.
"That's not a random fact!" Sho sputtered. "It would depend on all sorts of different things."
"Like what?"
"Like, what you were travelling in, or if it was night or day," Sho said.
"Well, just give me a ball-park figure," Aiba suggested.
He tried to bury himself in the baseball article again, but his heart was in his throat, and it was incredibly distracting. It had been ages since he'd felt that particularly awkward emotion flare up- and honestly, he was long over it. He was long over all of it. He had been since things got incredibly awkward after the debut; the last thing he needed was more trauma mucking up his inner thoughts.
"Fine, fine," Aiba was relenting. "I heard something about the Tokyo Giants in the hall."
"Jun's got the sports page," Sho said, but Jun was only half-listening, and he didn't respond. He just stared at the characters on the paper, trying to block everything in his head out entirely. After a second, there was a rustle of movement on the couch, and then Sho's head was very near to his. It startled him, and not just because he hadn't seen the other man moving. He narrowly avoided jumping.
"Yeah, he's getting traded," Sho announced, scanning the article Jun had been reading. He pulled back a bit, and gave Jun a funny look. "What's the matter with you?"
"Nothing," Jun managed to choke out, but his heartbeat was screaming in his ears. Sho moved away, and the scene of his soap lingered behind.
"Can I have that section after you?" Aiba asked.
"You can have it now," Jun said, tossing it over with a bit more force than was necessary. "I'm going for a walk."
"I- okay, thanks," Aiba called, as the door slammed shut behind him.
-------
Summer was just around the corner, and Sho was deeply regretting the jacket he’d worn that day. There was a photo shoot and interview that afternoon, and he was starving. His stomach was already growling as he pushed through the doors of the ramen place. There were mostly salarymen hurrying in and out on their lunch breaks, so hopefully, he’d get enough privacy to grab food.
Jun was already waiting at a table shoved in the back of the place. What a difference half a year could make. After lying low for so many months, enduring all the rumors and scrutiny, Jun was looking healthy again. No more dark circles, he was gaining back the weight he’d lost under stress. Sho could even see changes in his demeanor. He was almost happy.
Of course, he wasn’t going to forget Zac entirely. That would be impossible. And as much trouble as the American’s presence had caused, Jun’s happiness then had been genuine. Sho just hoped that Jun would continue his recovery. “Who’s buying this time?” he asked, sliding into a seat across from the other man.
“Already ordered,” Jun mumbled as he sipped from a water bottle. “It was getting crowded, and I wanted to make sure you got the special you liked before it sold out.”
“Wonderful,” he replied, and his stomach grumbled in approval. Sho didn’t really care what he ate, but the fact that Jun had already known what to order for him made him smile.
“Looking forward to the interview?” Jun asked as the bowls of piping hot ramen were set down before them.
He shrugged. “Didn’t we do the whole ‘where to go on a honeymoon’ thing last year?”
Jun nodded, slurping up some noodles. “Maybe I’ll give a different answer this year. All I know is that Leader’s going to say a fishing trip. Again.”
“How romantic,” Sho laughed. His phone rang, and he rolled his eyes. He was starving, didn’t this person care? The caller ID said it was Nino. No. This person didn’t care. “Hello?”
“What time was it again?”
Sho rolled his eyes. Nino had a manager for these questions. “3:00 PM.”
“That’s kind of an odd time isn’t it?”
“I’m having lunch right now, so…” Jun looked up, tilting his head to inquire who it was, and Sho mouthed Nino’s name. The other man nodded, understanding.
“Lunch with…?”
“With Matsujun.”
“Oh really?” There was that tone again. The little implication in Nino’s voice, the hints and the suggestions that had plagued Sho at the beginning of the year and the months prior. Nino seemed to think there was a lot more going on, and Sho didn’t exactly appreciate it.
“We’re having ramen. It’s as exciting as it sounds.”
Jun laughed, taking another sip from his water. Nino knew just which buttons of Sho’s to push. It seemed the DoS had a runner-up. Sho balanced the phone between his ear and his shoulder, picking up the warm bowl and his chopsticks. Nino just had to talk until he was satisfied in making Sho uncomfortable.
“You two on a date?”
Sho munched on a mouthful of food. “We’re not,” he said, probably not looking the most attractive right then. Why did Nino’s nagging always make him feel so strange? Sure, the past year had been a tough one for his friendship with Jun, but they’d managed to weather the storm and come out of it closer than they’d been in years. Did Nino need to read more into it?
“You know, Sho-san…Matsujun used to have a huge crush on you.”
Sho clumsily dropped the phone onto the table with a loud clatter, startling Jun and sending his water bottle in his lap. “Oh shit, sorry,” he said to Jun in embarrassment, seeing the other man get up and start wiping his pants with his napkin. Sho had to look away, grabbing his phone again.
“Surprise,” he heard Nino say.
“You’re such a liar,” Sho grumbled, trying to mop up more of the spilled water with his own napkin while Jun was preoccupied with trying to dry his pants.
“What’s he saying?” Jun asked, but Sho waved him off.
“We’ll see you at the shoot…”
“But aren’t you even the slightest bit curious? He practically worshipped you. Everyone could see it. And now look at you guys, lunch dates and always talking. It’s like this past year never happened. I think you guys are in loooove.”
He resisted the urge to simply hang up on Nino. It was a prank. It was so obviously a prank. If Jun liked anyone, it had been Zac. Things had been too tense for Jun to try and date lately anyhow. And it was insane, the thought of him and Jun. They’d known each other forever. Nino was always tricking them - this was just him trying to mess with Sho’s head.
“Can I get back to my lunch please?”
“Is he looking at you right now?”
“What?”
“Look around sometime, Sho-san. You’ll be surprised when you see who’s staring back.”
He looked up just in time to see Jun look back down at his ramen bowl quickly. Sho felt his face grow warm, but it was probably just the weather and the heat from the cramped restaurant’s kitchen.
“I was right, wasn’t I?”
Sho didn’t know how to respond, and before he even realized it, he felt Jun’s fingers by his face and he jumped. But Jun was just grabbing the phone away and putting it to his own ear.
“You’re being a real pain in the ass today,” Jun told Nino, his voice casual and controlled, very much unlike how Sho was feeling. He focused on trying to eat his meal, listening to the various noisy conversations going on in the restaurant around them. Whatever Nino was teasing Jun about, the other man wasn’t saying anything. His face was almost eerily calm.
“You’re full of it,” was the next thing Jun said, laughing, eating more of his ramen. Why weren’t Nino’s jokes pissing him off? With the way Jun’s year had gone, the last thing he needed was Nino teasing him about being in love. Well, making up something about him being in love.
Jun rolled his eyes. “Don’t you have a game you could…”
Sho saw Jun’s expression shift considerably. Well, maybe Nino had finally crossed a line. Jun said a terse “Bye” before closing Sho’s phone. He held it out across the table, and their fingers brushed as Sho took the phone back. It was like a jolt of electricity as they touched. In all their years knowing each other, it had never been like this. It was all Nino’s teasing. He was letting it get to him.
“He’s being a jerk, huh?” Sho asked quietly, hoping Jun would laugh it off. He didn’t. What the hell had Nino said? Had he told Jun the same thing? Or was there more to it? Either way, Sho didn’t get a chance to inquire.
Jun was already standing, leaving cash on the table. “You finish eating. I have to grab some things first. I’ll see you at the shoot later.”
“Sure,” Sho mumbled, watching Jun’s back as he left. Just when things were back to normal. He glanced at the cell phone in his hand, remembering the way their hands had touched. He shook his head. “This is stupid,” he said to himself, shoving his phone away to finish his lunch.