Prompt 3: We're all about cliques, yo! - Team Present
Title: Superheroes
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pin; brief KeikoPi, mentions of KusanoxAmerican girls
Summary: It's not really Superman versus Batman, especially not when they grow up.
Prompt: We're all about cliques, yo
Warnings: talk of het-relationships
Notes: I don't even know what to say because this started out small and quickly developed a mind of its own until I reached 7K. It's not het-fic, despite what the warnings tell you. And it wouldn't have been possible without my wonderful beta C. ♥
He’s spent the last nights like this as well, sneaking into her bed when she’s already soft with sleep; that’s when he lies behind her, lays an arm around her waist and curls up close. He likes to breath in the scent of her favorite perfume, strong in her nape, weak on her thin wrists, likes to feel her chest lift and lower under his arm, likes to chuckle when she snores - so unlike her and yet so cute.
Sometimes she wakes up just when he’s getting comfortable. She will yawn then and turn around to snuggle against his chest. Then she falls back asleep listening to his steady heart-beat, her arms cradled around him in return. He likes those times, too, because she’s adorable like that, her hair sticking up in weird directions and her mouth pouty because of the interruption.
It’s one of these times when she wakes and Yamapi smiles at her cute behavior while she curls up to him. Her shirt is threadbare and he imagines feeling her skin instead as he’s trailing his hands over her back. She arches into the contact, a sigh leaving her lips.
“Tomo”, she murmurs, her voice heavy with dreams. He strokes down her back again, traces her spine until his arm assumes its regular position around her middle.
“Tomo”, she says again, the words a soft puff against his bare collarbones.
“What is it?” he asks, because sometimes she wants to talk when they haven’t spoken for a while. “Keiko,” Yamapi adds, just because he can.
Keiko’s hands tickle his neck when she starts playing with his curls. “Tomo, do you love me?”
She sounds slow, lethargic even, her brain still muddled with sleep. She hasn’t asked before.
Yamapi stays relaxed against the mattress; his heart doesn’t beat any faster than before. He pulls her closer to himself, feels her toes bump against his ankles. The shower turns on in one of the surrounding apartments, a cloud moves away, leaves the full moon to shine directly into the windows and onto Yamapi’s face. There’s no blush, no twitch around his eyes, his mouth. He just keeps on holding Keiko. The minutes tick by.
The wind shoves another cloud over the moon and dips the room in darkness.
“Tomohisa,” she says, her voice less sleepy now, drawing to back to glance at his face. “Do you love me?”
The shower turns off; somewhere in the distance sirens are blaring, trying to reach an accident in time to save lives. Keiko’s heart is beating fast, it’s a quick rhythm against Yamapi’s own chest but it doesn’t encourage his heart to do the same dance.
The sirens lose themselves in the distance.
“I think maybe you should go now,” she says, stiff in his embrace.
***
By now the path is ingrained into his heart, his feet automatically leading the way until he’s knocking on a familiar door. Jin is squinting when he opens the door two minutes later - enough time to be roused by the insistent noise and fall out of bed - and his curls are a wildly tangled mess around his pouting face.
“Hi Pi,” Jin says when he recognizes his friend. His voice is rough from a mixture of sleep and alcohol but his arms are warm and inviting when he pulls Yamapi inside the apartment.
Jin doesn’t apologize for the mess in his living-room and he doesn’t ask if Yamapi wants, needs, a drink. Instead he trails Yamapi to the couch and watches intently as Yamapi lies down, his head turned to face Jin.
“I’ve been dumped,” Yamapi says sadly. Jin bites his lip the same way he always does when he wants a cigarette. It’s 2am. They both have meetings early in the morning.
“Gimme ten minutes,” Jin mutters, scrambling off to his bathroom, “and call the troops.”
***
The club is bursting with people - locals and foreigners, boys and girls, people wasted and looking for a fuck - and the American hip-hop is just as loud in the VIP-section.
The beat is fast but deep, vibrating through the floor and shaking up all bodies alike. The table-top is shaking, too, Yamapi realizes, and when he presses his forehead against the cool marble, he can feel the noise resounding in his head.
From the corner of his eyes he can see Ryo’s chucks and Shirota’s leather shoes. They are shaking too, or maybe that’s just Yamapi’s view.
Yamapi lifts his head, tries to focus on the bartender’s face. Definitely his view, Yamapi decides, when the guy’s nose and mouth keep merging into one big hole in the middle of his head.
Determinedly, Yamapi tries climbing down from his stool to try and see if it’s just the bar chair shaking. The world wobbles under his feet and he stumbles. Several hands touch him, try to keep him up, but it’s just one person behind him, around him, that actually breaks his fall. The arms are warm and the world stops spinning quite so fast.
“Uh,” Yamapi says eloquently when he’s pushed back onto the stool. The shaking starts again, rippling in waves through his body until Yamapi feels the beat rocking his brain. But the touches don’t leave his body - not completely. A small, cold hand is keeping a light grip on his elbow; another is lightly ruffling his hair. Yamapi feels a hard chest behind his back, broad and muscled but still soft enough to be comfortable. It’s hot, very hot, sweat is dampening the hair at his nape.
“You wanna go home, Pi?” someone is asking, someone new who isn’t touching him yet. The voice is smooth and melodic, roughened by the smoke in the air and in his lungs. Yamapi wonders distantly what Kusano is thinking about his leader now, buzzed and uncoordinated. When he squints hard enough, it looks like Notti is smiling. If he doesn’t squint, there’s only that black hole in the middle of his face.
“Shit, he’s so drunk,” someone is chuckling to his right. “Let’s get him home, tomorrow’s gonna suck as it is.”
They make him get down on the floor again, their hands leaving him except for a strong arm slung around his shoulders. Colors brighten and swirl, the ground under his feet is still bouncing in time with the beat.
“Boom boom”, Yamapi tells the hand on his shoulder.
“You can sleep soon, Pi-chan”, the hand answers.
***
14-year-old Jin thinks Superman is the coolest thing ever. “Because he’s strong and he gets the girl and he can shoot lasers, isn’t that just so cool, Yamapi?”
Yamapi snorts. Jin is easily excitable and while Superman really is kind of cool, Batman is clearly better.
“What the hell?” Jin says when Yamapi tells him. Jin has recently picked up cussing and thinks it makes him sound grown-up and bad-ass but so far the only result of his new-found obsession has been getting his mouth washed out with soap by Akanishi-mama. Reio had found it hilarious, happily poking at the bubbles blubbering out of his brother’s mouth.
“No, really,” Jin says, “what the hell, are you blind? Batman doesn’t have any superpowers. He’s totally boring.”
“He’s not,” Yamapi says strongly. “He’s really smart.”
Jin guffaws loudly. “Who cares for smarts? He can’t fly!”
“Well,” Yamapi says standing up because he doesn’t want to keep playing video-games with Jin when he’s being mean, “you can’t fly either. Bakanishi.”
Jin lets out a shriek of rage, jumping up and pouncing on Yamapi. They wrestle with each other right there on the floor in Jin’s room, rolling around and kicking at shins until finally, several minutes later, Jin comes out on top - literally.
“Get off!” Yamapi complains, wiggling to try and shove Jin off his chest. Jin is still panting a bit but his eyes are glimmering with victory, his face flushed with the effort.
“Who’s stupid now?” he taunts while Yamapi tries to pout his way out of the situation.
“Don’t do that,” Jin laughs. “It makes you look not cute at all.” Yamapi’s pout turns up a notch. Jin rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he says, rolling to the side and throwing himself off his friend. He lands on the floor with a thud. His nose looks a little red and Yamapi pokes at it, just to make sure it isn’t broken. It would really suck for Jin to look like Kamenashi.
A breeze comes in through the open windows and cools the sweat on their skin. In the background, the video-game they had been playing loops the same jingle over and over again. The screen is displaying Game over in big, bold letters - Jin hadn’t bothered to pause the game when Yamapi had called him stupid.
“You’re hanging out with Ryo-chan a lot,” Jin says. Ryo has a sharp tongue and he likes to use it on Jin because he always gets angry. Yamapi doesn’t really think so, he always says it’s an Osakan thing because Shibutani-kun is a little mean sometimes, too.
“Ryo-chan is cool,” Yamapi says, “and you’re always talking to Jimmy.”
He doesn’t sound offended, just a little sulky at being neglected because of Jin’s weird fascination with America. It’ll probably pass, Yamapi thinks, that American-thing. Jin’s English sort of sucks.
The jingle is still blaring in all its 8bit-glory. Jin wrinkles his nose. “You can come when I’m talking with Jimmy,” he offers. “He mostly talks about you anyway.”
“Really?” Yamapi asks.
“Mmh,” Jin murmurs. When Yamapi turns his head to look at his friend, Jin’s cheeks are very red.
“You’re in a really bad shape if a little bit of fighting makes you look like that!” Yamapi blurts out.
Jin blinks, then he seems to flush even more and kicks Yamapi’s foot. Yamapi kicks back and Jin pulls his hair and Yamapi touches The Collarbones and they play-punch each other and forget all about the breeze and the game until Jin’s mom comes to get them for supper and catches Jin screeching “Fucker!” and after that only Yamapi gets to try the soba while Jin eats soap again.
***
The sun stands high in the sky, and birds are singing, but the bright light streaming in through the opened windows and the high-pitched melodies only make Yamapi bury himself deeper into the mess of blankets around him.
His head is pounding and he feels kind of gross, but the smell of a familiar cologne on the sheets calms him enough to chance peeking out from under his pillow. When he squints hard enough, he can roughly make out the digits on the alarm clock. It’s late, past lunch already, although his stomach doesn’t seem to care, having stayed unusually quiet.
It takes ten more minutes for Yamapi to muster up the energy to get up but eventually he’s padding around Jin’s apartment, his bare feet automatically carrying him to the kitchen.
Jin’s sitting at the kitchen-table with his laptop and a cup of coffee in front of him.
“Morning,” Jin says when Yamapi plops down next to him.
“Hm,” Yamapi replies, laying his head on the table and peering at Jin. His friend doesn’t look hung-over at all; there are dark circles under his eyes and he looks a little pale but that’s just lack of sleep. His hair is pulled back into a pony-tail; he’s wearing his geeky glasses. It doesn’t really scream idol but on the other hand Yamapi is too afraid to look into a mirror and see what his reflection is saying this morning.
Yamapi doesn’t apologize for disturbing Jin late at night and dragging his friends - the core of their little group, those around long enough to leave their beds just because he calls - out to party. He knows he doesn’t need to (and their roles have been reversed before) but at the same time he can’t help but feel slightly bad when Jin yawns widely.
Jin gropes around for his mug, finds it empty and moves to get more caffeine. From his position at the coffee-maker, his back turned to Yamapi who’s still half-lying on the table-top, there’s enough distance between them to ask personal questions without getting too close.
“You’re not gonna fight, huh?” Jin asks. Fight for her, he means, but Yamapi gets it without an explicit statement.
“Nah,” he murmurs, raising his head a little to stop slurring into the wood. “She was really upset. Doesn’t want to see me again, I think.”
“What’d you do, man, cheat on her?”
They both know Yamapi’s not that kind of guy, never interested in hurting anyone intentionally. He’s been known to be oblivious, though, and sometimes not knowing, not caring is even worse.
“I didn’t answer her question,” Yamapi says. The beep of the coffee-machine interrupts them, Jin rushing to fill two cups with dark liquid. There’s a soft clank when he sets them down on the table. Steam rises up.
“She asked me if I loved her,” Yamapi says, briefly glancing at Jin. He’s biting his lip, his chair squeaks when he sits down next to Yamapi.
“Well, fuck,” Jin says.
Yamapi nods slowly. The headache intensifies again.
***
Yamapi is lucky enough to have no work until the next day and while he should probably use his rare free-time to do something productive - visit his mum or call up friends he doesn’t see nearly often enough or even wash his car - he feels tired, lethargic and the head-ache still hasn’t gone away two hours later when he reaches his own apartment only to collapse on the couch. Whatever chemical the laundry-shop used to get the wine-stains out of the cushions doesn’t smell half as good as the musky scent of Jin’s cologne. Jin’s bed is softer, too, but it’s not like Yamapi can spend all day between Jin’s sheets. Especially since they’re not that kind of friends.
An incoming text makes Yamapi’s cell-phone vibrate against his hip and he’s fast to pull it out of his pocket. He hopes it’s not his manager asking him to come to a rescheduled shoot. Even though it’s happened before and most of his work has long since become routine, Yamapi is not really in the mood to smile (or not-smile) while stylists tug at his clothes.
Luckily, it’s not work. It’s Jin.
Pi’s emo, b nice n show respect, Jin’s message reads in a gibberish of Japanese and English slang.
Bakanishi, Yamapi types back, did you really want to send this to me?
The vibrating starts again a minute later.
Oops, Jin has written and attaches a little penguin-emoji. It’s cute, Yamapi thinks. Pengjin.
He thinks of writing something back, maybe teasing Jin about using emoticons but his eyelids feel heavy and before he can decide what to write he’s already fast asleep, curled up on the couch, his lax fingers dropping his cell-phone onto the rug.
***
It feels like Yamapi and Shirota have known each other forever even though they’re both still so young. They feel very grown-up at the age of sixteen, both of them already tall and slim, handsome in a way that drives their class-mates crazy, with offers for plenty of work at their agencies. At sixteen, words like forever sound cool and mature so they use them a lot, even for friendships that haven’t existed that long.
“You’re my mabudachi,” Yamapi declares one day when they’re sitting in Shirota’s garden, the Spanish folklore Shirota’s mum likes to listen to while doing the dishes provides a quiet background hum to their enthusiastic chattering.
Shirota cocks his head like he’s considering the term. Then his lips stretch into a smile. “Yeah,” he says. “You too!”
Yamapi feels pleased; he grins too. Rays of sunshine warm their skin. Shirota hums along with his mother’s music. It’s a happy song, and Yamapi wants to urge Shirota to use the words, to make Yamapi understand the content but they have tried before (on an afternoon back in winter when the sun did nothing to make them warm) and Shirota has refused to sing in Spanish for them, probably out of fear they might make fun of him because of the language.
They wouldn’t, though, or at least not much and not seriously. Jin still hasn’t stopped being fascinated by English even though he’s not really getting much better and they don’t make fun of him except for when he’s being particularly stupid. Car shrimp will never not be funny even though Jimmy had to explain it to Yamapi first.
Yamapi closes his eyes against the sun but he still sees orange, bright through his eyelids. A bee flies past his ear, the sudden noise enough to make him flail in his chair. He looks around himself, searching for the insect but it’s impossible to hear the buzzing over Shirota’s loud laughter, full-bodied and enough to rock his chair, too.
Yamapi frowns severely until Shirota looks up at him. Yamapi's been told his frown looks more cute than intimidating and Shirota seems to think so too since he starts laughing again, falling back into his chair and squinting at Yamapi. Yamapi is not impressed.
“I’m sorry,” Shirota finally rasps out when it’s clear that Yamapi isn’t intending to stop frowning anytime soon. “It was just really funny.”
“It was not,” Yamapi snaps.
Shirota giggles. “Okay, maybe not for you.”
Shirota’s mum switches the radio off and the only melodies now are sung by birds.
“Come on, Pi, don’t be like that,” Shirota says and Yamapi knows that a sentence just like that was the reason Shirota’s last girlfriend broke up with him.
Shirota sighs. “Tell me how I can make you forgive me.”
Yamapi’s eyes sparkle and he turns around to face Shirota completely. “Teach me Spanish,” he demands.
Shirota raises an eyebrow. “Really?” he asks, suspicious.
“Yeah,” Yamapi says.
“Si,” Shirota corrects.
“Shi,” Yamapi repeats.
Shirota rolls his eyes. “You sure you don’t rather want to do English with Jin instead?”
“Carshrimp,” Yamapi comments.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe Spanish would be better, then.”
***
His cell-phone wakes him early the next morning and this time it is his manager, just calling to say he’s gonna come to get Yamapi in twenty minutes.
Yamapi’s used to dressing fast and it’s only three minutes later that he’s standing in his bathroom staring into the mirror. His skin is pale, his eyes are dark and surrounded by shadows, and his hair is a complete mess, greasy and with random strands sticking out. He puts on a hat, brushes his teeth, picks out big sunglasses that hide most of his face. It’s what everybody expects from an idol and it’s exactly what they all use to make their short-comings invisible right under the public’s watchful eye.
The air conditioning in his manager’s car is turned up too high but today it’s fine like that, Yamapi doesn’t feel like being nice and warm. He checks his messages while the manager explains today’s schedule.
Tokyo-nii-san, Junpei has written, let’s go out to eat soon!
Photoshoot tonight, Yamapi lies in his response. Junpei will forgive him. But let’s meet up soon!
The next message is from Shirota Jun: I have a new necklace you might like, come check it out.
I’m busy all week, Yamapi tells him, I’ll try to swing by soon.
He could send his manager, too, or Jin maybe. It seems impossible to do it himself right now, not when he doesn’t even dare take off his sunglasses.
“I don’t think they’ll take very long today,” his manager speaks up. He’s a polite man in his thirties, has a wife at home and a pretty little daughter. He spends his days driving Yamapi around and making sure his appointments go well. Some days Yamapi wants to send him home and force him to spend the day with his family instead but it’s not his decision. Not everybody can earn money with singing and dancing.
They stop at a conbini on the way to the studio and Yamapi stays in the car while his manager goes in and buys him protein-jelly and an apple. They both know he probably won’t get much more than that all day.
***
They ask him questions about summer and the sea and what he’d like to do if he were free to go anywhere. He says L.A., I hear it’s a nice city. The interviewer nods happily, a photographer takes pictures of him lounging in a chair, relaxed and carefree, his problems hidden under layers of make-up.
“Yamashita-kun,” the interviewer asks, “what are your plans for a perfect summer date?”
She is young and they haven’t worked together before but she is polite even when his manager asks for a question to be removed. Everything she wants to know is what fans have been dying to find out so Yamapi tries to hide his wince when she asks about love.
“A summer date, huh?” he repeats. “Mah, in summer it must definitely be in a park! Eating ice-cream together and watching the sun go down - that’s definitely what girls like.”
The interviewer seems to like it, too, she thanks him profusely for the talk and bows until Yamapi and his manager have left the room.
“You’re meeting with the producer for your winter-drama now. It will probably take a few hours so I hope you didn’t plan a date like that for today,” his manager teases. Yamapi pushes his sunglasses back onto his nose and attempts a smile. No one really expects it to look happy.
“Does something like that really work on a girl?” the manager asks when they’re getting into the car. “My wife always says I’m unromantic.”
Yamapi remembers summer-days years ago, sunshine burning down onto his skin, strawberry ice-cream dripping down the cone. Jin’s laughter is loud even in his memories, Jin's tongue pink when he laps at the drops of melted ice sliding onto his hand, Jin's hair bright and flowing free around his face, the curls bouncing when he runs. Yamapi remembers Jin's eyes opened wide, sunshine reflected in his smile.
“I don’t know,” Yamapi answers, fumbling with the seat-belt. “I never tried it on a girl.”
***
The meeting doesn’t last very long and afterwards when he’s riding up the elevator to his apartment, Yamapi desperately hopes that he didn’t mess up, didn’t make a mistake and not realize it just because he’d been preoccupied.
The lights in his apartment are switched on and there’s a familiar pair of sneakers in the genkan. Ryo is slouching on Yamapi’s couch, watching the news on the plasma screen.
“Welcome home,” he says when he hears Yamapi’s footsteps.
“I’m home,” Yamapi answers, plopping down next to Ryo. There’s take-out on the coffee table and Yamapi happily tucks into his chicken in Szechuan-sauce. It’s delicious and he tells Ryo so around a mouthful of meat. Ryo tries hard to look stern but the corners of his eyes crinkle like when he laughs and his mouth twitches around his chopsticks. He’s eating rice, but then again Yamapi wouldn't expect anything else.
***
They throw NEWS into a room after the press-conference and tell them to get to know each other. It’s a little late, Yamapi thinks, since they’ve recorded the single already and the first little groups have already been built.
The oldest of their little bunch, a tall guy called Koyama who is amazingly perky, is chatting happily with two guys who’ve been his band mates before. One of them is Kato and the other Kusano but so far Yamapi hasn’t been interested in finding out who’s who. He wonders why Koyama was allowed to stay with part of his group and Yamapi had been forced to leave 4TOPS behind. He hasn’t talked to Toma for the whole week they’ve been NEWS.
In the corner another guy is doing crunches. He’s one of the young ones and Yamapi remembers him from Shounen Club tapings. He can’t seem to think of the right name but he knows the muscled boy has been skating with Kis-My-Ft. Yamapi doesn’t feel shame in thinking that at least that guy wasn’t allowed to bring his group, either.
The two youngest, a normal-looking guy called Morimoto and the kid who’s only been a junior for half a year, sit near the muscled guy and seem to count how often he manages to push his shoulders off the ground. All three of them haven’t drawn any kind of attention to themselves. They’re small and inexperienced and the white hoodies they’ve been given by the staff look too big on their slim frames. Not that they sit any better on Yamapi’s shoulders, but at least he’s gotten shorts where everybody else is stuck with long pants in summer.
Ryo and Uchi are the only ones Yamapi actually knows, Ryo more so than Uchi because they’ve been friends for years, but the two Osakans sort of come in a two-for-one deal and Yamapi’s not complaining because they’re fun.
“What the hell’s up with his hair?” Ryo bitches. He’s always liked to mock the weak and his current victim is one of Koyama’s followers. The one with the awful hair-cut, according to Ryo, though Yamapi isn’t sure either hair-style looks good.
“I can’t believe they’re sticking us in this group,” Ryo continues. He’s made very clear that he’s above the Tokyo-boys and in his opinion they should’ve let Kanjani8 debut instead. Yamapi sort of agrees.
Uchi is reading manga next to them and not really participating in the conversation. He’s probably heard it before since he and Ryo ride the bullet-train several hours a week.
“I don’t think I should be leader,” Yamapi says. He knows that he’s just leader because he’s the most popular, the most well-known, but he doesn’t think he wants to lead a group he doesn’t particularly care for.
“What are you talking about?” Ryo grumbles. “You’re the best thing in this group, use your powers to make them do your dirty laundry or something. Geez, you Tokyo-boys are so unimaginative.”
When Ryo is mean it just means he likes you a lot, Jin likes to say when Ryo is just far enough out of ear-shot for Jin to have a head-start when he has to start running away.
You’re the best thing in this group, Yamapi hears Ryo say and then a lot of embarrassed blabber to cover up feelings. Yamapi smiles.
“I like you, too, Ryo-chan,” he says. Uchi smirks behind his book while Ryo flushes a hot red and starts criticizing everything Yamapi’s done today.
***
They watch a movie that’s old and sort of bad but Ryo says it’s a classic so Yamapi doesn’t argue. He doesn’t care about what they watch, actually, he just wants the company even though he worked hard all day to push everyone away. It makes him feel bad because everybody meant well but sitting in his own living room with Ryo and a bottle of beer and a movie he doesn’t understand at all is just what he needs right now, a steady reassurance that he’s not alone.
They don’t really talk about stuff like that, about feelings, because Ryo insists they’re men and men don’t talk about mushy shit which they all know is code for things Ryo gets embarrassed about. They try not to tease him too much because he tries hard to be there even when someone is distinctly un-male.
“I think I can’t love anyone,” Yamapi slurs after his third-forth-fifth beer. He doesn’t really have any alcohol-tolerance today; he feels sleepy and gross and the film stopped even pretending to make sense half an hour ago. Ryo is still watching, though. Apparently it came highly recommended. In Ryo-speak, that usually means Shige was talking about it.
“You know, I really liked her. Like, lots. She’s smart and cute and her hair smells really nice and she knows that I’m working a lot and she’s not complaining.” Yamapi sips at his beer, slumps more onto Ryo’s smaller form. “I liked being with her and it was easy so I thought that could be it and now… it’s not.” He frowns at the television. “Even my manager is able to have a relationship and he’s pretty much married to his work.”
Ryo snorts. “That means he’s married to you, idiot.”
“Eh~,” Yamapi murmurs, “but he’s not my type at all!”
Ryo tugs at Yamapi’s bottle until he can put it away on the table. “Wrong thing to focus on. I think you’ve had enough.”
“No,” Yamapi whines, “I want to stay up with Ryo-chan.”
“Ryo-chan has work tomorrow morning and so do you. Let’s go to bed.”
This time, the lights are on but Yamapi still bumps into the bookshelves and falls over his clothes. His shins feel like his bruises have bruises.
He can’t keep his eyes open, especially not when Ryo makes sure to tuck him in and close the blinds. “I’m crashing on your couch,” he announces and ruffles Yamapi’s hair. “Sleep well.”
Yamapi doesn’t get to respond this time, either.
***
The world is cruel, Yamapi decides when Ryo drags him out of bed only a few hours later. They drive to the shooting-location together and doze on each other while the rest of NEWS is in make-up. The morning is unusually cold and the wind whips around their heads, throwing their hair into their faces. Yamapi hopes it’s what the photographer is going for, otherwise this day will get even longer.
Apparently weather-ruffled is in this season because everybody on set ooohs and aaahs when they pose, all of them trying to convey a laid-back but sexy feeling even though they’re shivering under their thin clothes and their chattering teeth are too loud to understand other directions.
“Let’s take a break,” the photographer says after half an hour and they’re all shuffled into the make-up van.
“Why is it so cold?” Ryo whines. “Didn’t you say it was global warming, genius?”
Shige rolls his eyes. “It is. If you’d look past Tokyo-”
“Why should I look past Tokyo? It’s May and it’s freaking cold-”
Yamapi blocks them both out when they start talking over each other. Everybody knows Ryo loves arguing. Jin says it’s the Osakan kind of foreplay. Ryo says Jin is stupid and fat. They have that conversation a lot.
Yamapi pulls out his cell and opens the jweb-application. He almost forgot to update yesterday and ended up writing about his imaginary lunch. It had been curry and he would’ve really liked to have that a lot.
Today I am working with all of NEWS.
It’s a cold day so make sure to wear a jacket when you go outside!
Being able to spend the day taking photos for our new single makes me happy.
Even though it’s cold, our hearts are warm.
Maybe, like this, with our hearts warm and open to each other we can create a kind of global warming that won’t be dangerous for the planet.
I’ll be working hard today, too.
He hits send and watches a little envelope appear on his monitor. It’s a text from Jaejoong.
If you are sad it’s best to cry, the Korean has written and it makes Yamapi happy that Jin considers him part of their friends and sent him the message, too. But if you need someone to cry on, give me a call.
Shige and Ryo stop arguing and push at each other from where they’re sitting next to each other on a couch. It’s all a motion to keep touching each other and benefit from each other’s body warmth but nobody calls them on it.
Thank you, Yamapi sends to Jaejoong. He can’t remember the last time he cried with someone around.
There’s another envelope, this time a mail from Kusano.
Movie night at my house tonight. Jin is making pasta.
***
It’s been a year since they last saw each other, a year since Kusano hopped on a plane to America and Yamapi swung by to wish him good luck.
They liked each other when they were in a group together but it wasn’t until later when Kusano actually took his life into his own hands that they found similarities in their thinking, in their liking, in their planning. Not so much in their taste in women, though.
Chicks in New York are really easy, Kusano writes in a mail two months after he left the country. And they totally dig Asians. I’m exciting and new. He attaches pictures of himself in clubs with scantily-clad blondes. Yamapi doesn’t share his enthusiasm.
She is a friend but I think she likes me, Yamapi writes when he’s angsting over what to wear for his first date, I like Japanese women, they’re elegant. Yamapi doesn’t attach a picture, but
Kusano mails back, demanding pictures or it didn’t happen. Yamapi scans a shop-photo of Kusano smiling at Ryo and attaches that instead. Kusano doesn’t show off his blonde bitches after that.
I’m coming back next month, Kusano tells him half a year later. I’m staying at my parent’s so come get me if you want to hang out.
Yamapi is up to his head in rehearsals and drama-filming and the regular interviews and photo shoots. He barely has the time to sleep more than two hours at night. It still takes him only three days to knock on Kusano’s door.
Kusano opens the door and he’s suddenly grown up, stubble on his chin, his hair long and tied back in a messy pony-tail. “Hi,” he says, in English, and Yamapi starts laughing because he’s seen that before, sees it more than once a week.
“Hi,” Yamapi answers in Japanese. “Get your jacket, I want to introduce you to someone.”
Jin and Kusano hit it off beautifully and even though Yamapi still isn’t interested in the blonde bitches - “and boobs”, Jin stresses - their smiles when they part and the dinner a week later where they both show their appreciation of Italian cuisine assure Yamapi that he’s still important to both of them.
***
“Drink whenever Kame licks his lips!” Jin says and nods at Kusano to write it down. Ryo had complained that they didn’t need to write down rules because Jin always started cheating half-way through anyway but Jin had insisted on doing it properly. Yamapi thinks it’s a pity Shirota’s stuck filming on location, he would’ve had fun with the insanity.
“Drink whenever Nakamaru looks violated,” Ryo offers.
“Drink whenever Taguchi makes a pun.”
“Drink whenever Ueda is ugly.”
“Ryo-chan, don’t be mean,” Jin says, stealing Kusano’s pencil to cross out the last suggestion.
Yamapi rolls his eyes and presses play. They’re marathoning Cartoon KAT-TUN because Kusano wasn’t around when it was on TV and Ryo likes mocking Jin’s group. Yamapi just wanted the pasta but he prefers KAT-TUN’s variety-show to yet another of Ryo’s smart and completely senseless movies. His head-ache is telling him he shouldn’t be drinking today too, but the same part of him that is sad and heart-broken also thinks he needs a drink before he can stomach Nakamaru bungee-jumping.
Turns out Nakamaru looks violated all the time and Junno seems to feel obligated to pun even more to lift the mood. Then they have Kame jump and apparently he only concentrates with his tongue hanging out. After just one episode they’re all pleasantly buzzed, sprawled out on Kusano’s couch which is not as nice as Yamapi's but also doesn’t smell like chemical cleaning.
The plan might’ve been to watch the season in order but Jin gets bored easily and they let him skip and fast forward until he’s reached the last episode of the Love-arc. He seems happy with that one, possibly because he got away relatively easy while Koki had to do a silly dance and they made Nakamaru touch slimy animals again.
“Hey, Ueda looks violated, too,” Kusano comments when Ueda and Taguchi have to make a balloon burst with their bodies. “Does that count?”
“If you're still thinking about the rules you should drink more,” Ryo smirks. Kusano shrugs and downs a shot of Tequila.
Yamapi wonders if he should drink more, too, because he’s still trying to follow what weird plot they’ve thought of for this episode. It’s close to the end though, and while the credits roll, the scene switches back to the basement. It seems like KAT-TUN found out what love is all about.
It’s a nice ending, Yamapi thinks, though then again perhaps Koki didn’t really get it.
I know now but I won’t tell you, Jin’s card says.
“That means you don’t know, huh?” Ryo teases.
“I totally do.”
“Oh yeah? So what’s the meaning of love?”
Yamapi’s eyes are closed; he feels sleep trying to grasp him. He’s too lazy to fight and his body relaxes against the cushion.
***
Yamapi’s driving fast and they’ll reach the airport on time, just right for Jin to check in and board a plane that will take him away from Yamapi for forever.
“It’s not forever,” Jin says. He’s suspiciously calm even though he should be anxious. Yamapi’s anxious enough for both of them. “I’m coming back soon and then we’ll laugh about you whining about forever.”
“I’m not whining,” Yamapi says automatically, stopping at a traffic-light. He chances a look to his left. Jin’s slouching in his seat, his feet tapping against the door. The light changes to green. Yamapi accelerates.
“How did Kame take the news?” he asks to fill the silence.
“Not well, obviously. He says I’m a selfish bastard. I told him I can’t go on like this. Didn’t really make him happier, I thought he was gonna cry.” Jin scratches at his elbow. “We talked on the phone yesterday, he wished me good luck. I promised I’d come back. He told me I’d better, otherwise Koki’d have my balls.”
Yamapi smirks shakily. At least Koki shares his feelings.
They continue to drive in silence. Yamapi keeps half an eye on Jin but he seems absolutely unperturbed by the fact he’s about to move to another continent. The nonchalance is driving him crazy, he’d rather have Jin break down and cry than sit here with him and refuse to be affected by the situation.
“Listen,” Jin says after a while when they get closer and closer to the airport. “I know you’re worried but it’s fine, okay? Ryo yelled at me and Kame cried and my dad is proud and Johnny really likes the idea of branching out into the US. I heard everything already and I know you’re worried but I’m coming back.”
They drive into a parking lot at the airport and the car slows to a stop.
“Pi?” Jin asks when Yamapi doesn’t immediately get out.
Yamapi sighs. “I wish I were Batman,” he says.
“What?” Jin blurts out. “Why Batman?”
“Then I’d think of something smart to make sure you don’t get into trouble in LA.”
Jin stars unblinkingly at Yamapi. Then a wide grin spreads over his face.
“No way,” he says, “Superman is much cooler.”
“Is not,” Yamapi says, winking at Jin.
“Is too. If you were Superman you could fly over the ocean and visit me.”
“Bakanishi,” Yamapi grins, “I can get on a plane and visit you.”
“So do it,” Jin says. It’s not a joke; his eyes are wide and dark. He looks all of fourteen again, gangly and proud of being able to cuss.
“Okay,” Yamapi says. He imagines the jingle of a lost game and the soft voice of Jin’s mother calling them down for dinner. The sun doesn’t shine, but he still feels the rays tickle his skin.
“Okay,” Jin says. They both smile.
***
It’s not the sun that wakes him and it’s not his cell or Ryo either. Soft breaths puff over his collarbones, long hair tickles his chest. When Yamapi opens his eyes, it’s dark but he doesn’t need light to recognize Jin lying on top of him.
His neck is stiff after hours of lying on the couch and Jin’s weight on his chest makes it harder to breathe. Still he’s careful not to shift too much, he’s just turning his head around to look for Ryo and Kusano.
Ryo’s sprawled out on the carpet in front of the TV; he’s quietly snoring, his chest rising and falling in rhythm. Kusano isn’t in the room with them. He probably went to sleep in his own bed seeing as they’ve taken all available soft spaces.
Yamapi lifts his arm without thinking. It feels natural for his fingers to comb through Jin’s curls. Yamapi wonders what Jin answered, if Jin really knows what the meaning of love is. He wonders if Jin would share his epiphany or if Yamapi’s going to be stuck like that, clueless about love and making people sad with his obliviousness.
“Jin,” Yamapi murmurs quietly, “what is love?”
Clouds draw away from the moon and light streams in through the open blinds. It hits Jin right in the face and Yamapi’s fast to shift his hand so he’s blocking the light. Jin squirms a bit against Yamapi, then he calms down again, murmuring something against Yamapi’s skin that’s too quiet for him to understand.
“What did you say?” Yamapi asks. And then, just because he can: “Jin?”
“Yamapi,” Jin husks over Yamapi’s collarbones.
“Jin, are you awake?” Yamapi asks.
“No,” Jin answers and Yamapi chuckles. It makes Jin bounce a little on his chest.
“It’s Yamapi,” Jin says. Yamapi pulls his hand back and watches as Jin squints against the sudden light.
“Of course it’s Yamapi, who did you think I was?”
“No,” Jin whispers, burying his head into Yamapi’s neck to block out the light. “Love. Yamapi is love.”
Yamapi drops his hand to comb through Jin’s hair again. “Jin is love, too,” he says.
“No,” Jin whines, “I’m Superman.”
“Jin, are you awake?” Yamapi asks. Jin snores in response.
“Because he’s strong and he gets the girl and he can shoot lasers, isn’t that just so cool, Yamapi?”
“Yeah, that’s really cool,” Yamapi whispers.
Poll Team Present
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pin; brief KeikoPi, mentions of KusanoxAmerican girls
Summary: It's not really Superman versus Batman, especially not when they grow up.
Prompt: We're all about cliques, yo
Warnings: talk of het-relationships
Notes: I don't even know what to say because this started out small and quickly developed a mind of its own until I reached 7K. It's not het-fic, despite what the warnings tell you. And it wouldn't have been possible without my wonderful beta C. ♥
He’s spent the last nights like this as well, sneaking into her bed when she’s already soft with sleep; that’s when he lies behind her, lays an arm around her waist and curls up close. He likes to breath in the scent of her favorite perfume, strong in her nape, weak on her thin wrists, likes to feel her chest lift and lower under his arm, likes to chuckle when she snores - so unlike her and yet so cute.
Sometimes she wakes up just when he’s getting comfortable. She will yawn then and turn around to snuggle against his chest. Then she falls back asleep listening to his steady heart-beat, her arms cradled around him in return. He likes those times, too, because she’s adorable like that, her hair sticking up in weird directions and her mouth pouty because of the interruption.
It’s one of these times when she wakes and Yamapi smiles at her cute behavior while she curls up to him. Her shirt is threadbare and he imagines feeling her skin instead as he’s trailing his hands over her back. She arches into the contact, a sigh leaving her lips.
“Tomo”, she murmurs, her voice heavy with dreams. He strokes down her back again, traces her spine until his arm assumes its regular position around her middle.
“Tomo”, she says again, the words a soft puff against his bare collarbones.
“What is it?” he asks, because sometimes she wants to talk when they haven’t spoken for a while. “Keiko,” Yamapi adds, just because he can.
Keiko’s hands tickle his neck when she starts playing with his curls. “Tomo, do you love me?”
She sounds slow, lethargic even, her brain still muddled with sleep. She hasn’t asked before.
Yamapi stays relaxed against the mattress; his heart doesn’t beat any faster than before. He pulls her closer to himself, feels her toes bump against his ankles. The shower turns on in one of the surrounding apartments, a cloud moves away, leaves the full moon to shine directly into the windows and onto Yamapi’s face. There’s no blush, no twitch around his eyes, his mouth. He just keeps on holding Keiko. The minutes tick by.
The wind shoves another cloud over the moon and dips the room in darkness.
“Tomohisa,” she says, her voice less sleepy now, drawing to back to glance at his face. “Do you love me?”
The shower turns off; somewhere in the distance sirens are blaring, trying to reach an accident in time to save lives. Keiko’s heart is beating fast, it’s a quick rhythm against Yamapi’s own chest but it doesn’t encourage his heart to do the same dance.
The sirens lose themselves in the distance.
“I think maybe you should go now,” she says, stiff in his embrace.
***
By now the path is ingrained into his heart, his feet automatically leading the way until he’s knocking on a familiar door. Jin is squinting when he opens the door two minutes later - enough time to be roused by the insistent noise and fall out of bed - and his curls are a wildly tangled mess around his pouting face.
“Hi Pi,” Jin says when he recognizes his friend. His voice is rough from a mixture of sleep and alcohol but his arms are warm and inviting when he pulls Yamapi inside the apartment.
Jin doesn’t apologize for the mess in his living-room and he doesn’t ask if Yamapi wants, needs, a drink. Instead he trails Yamapi to the couch and watches intently as Yamapi lies down, his head turned to face Jin.
“I’ve been dumped,” Yamapi says sadly. Jin bites his lip the same way he always does when he wants a cigarette. It’s 2am. They both have meetings early in the morning.
“Gimme ten minutes,” Jin mutters, scrambling off to his bathroom, “and call the troops.”
***
The club is bursting with people - locals and foreigners, boys and girls, people wasted and looking for a fuck - and the American hip-hop is just as loud in the VIP-section.
The beat is fast but deep, vibrating through the floor and shaking up all bodies alike. The table-top is shaking, too, Yamapi realizes, and when he presses his forehead against the cool marble, he can feel the noise resounding in his head.
From the corner of his eyes he can see Ryo’s chucks and Shirota’s leather shoes. They are shaking too, or maybe that’s just Yamapi’s view.
Yamapi lifts his head, tries to focus on the bartender’s face. Definitely his view, Yamapi decides, when the guy’s nose and mouth keep merging into one big hole in the middle of his head.
Determinedly, Yamapi tries climbing down from his stool to try and see if it’s just the bar chair shaking. The world wobbles under his feet and he stumbles. Several hands touch him, try to keep him up, but it’s just one person behind him, around him, that actually breaks his fall. The arms are warm and the world stops spinning quite so fast.
“Uh,” Yamapi says eloquently when he’s pushed back onto the stool. The shaking starts again, rippling in waves through his body until Yamapi feels the beat rocking his brain. But the touches don’t leave his body - not completely. A small, cold hand is keeping a light grip on his elbow; another is lightly ruffling his hair. Yamapi feels a hard chest behind his back, broad and muscled but still soft enough to be comfortable. It’s hot, very hot, sweat is dampening the hair at his nape.
“You wanna go home, Pi?” someone is asking, someone new who isn’t touching him yet. The voice is smooth and melodic, roughened by the smoke in the air and in his lungs. Yamapi wonders distantly what Kusano is thinking about his leader now, buzzed and uncoordinated. When he squints hard enough, it looks like Notti is smiling. If he doesn’t squint, there’s only that black hole in the middle of his face.
“Shit, he’s so drunk,” someone is chuckling to his right. “Let’s get him home, tomorrow’s gonna suck as it is.”
They make him get down on the floor again, their hands leaving him except for a strong arm slung around his shoulders. Colors brighten and swirl, the ground under his feet is still bouncing in time with the beat.
“Boom boom”, Yamapi tells the hand on his shoulder.
“You can sleep soon, Pi-chan”, the hand answers.
***
14-year-old Jin thinks Superman is the coolest thing ever. “Because he’s strong and he gets the girl and he can shoot lasers, isn’t that just so cool, Yamapi?”
Yamapi snorts. Jin is easily excitable and while Superman really is kind of cool, Batman is clearly better.
“What the hell?” Jin says when Yamapi tells him. Jin has recently picked up cussing and thinks it makes him sound grown-up and bad-ass but so far the only result of his new-found obsession has been getting his mouth washed out with soap by Akanishi-mama. Reio had found it hilarious, happily poking at the bubbles blubbering out of his brother’s mouth.
“No, really,” Jin says, “what the hell, are you blind? Batman doesn’t have any superpowers. He’s totally boring.”
“He’s not,” Yamapi says strongly. “He’s really smart.”
Jin guffaws loudly. “Who cares for smarts? He can’t fly!”
“Well,” Yamapi says standing up because he doesn’t want to keep playing video-games with Jin when he’s being mean, “you can’t fly either. Bakanishi.”
Jin lets out a shriek of rage, jumping up and pouncing on Yamapi. They wrestle with each other right there on the floor in Jin’s room, rolling around and kicking at shins until finally, several minutes later, Jin comes out on top - literally.
“Get off!” Yamapi complains, wiggling to try and shove Jin off his chest. Jin is still panting a bit but his eyes are glimmering with victory, his face flushed with the effort.
“Who’s stupid now?” he taunts while Yamapi tries to pout his way out of the situation.
“Don’t do that,” Jin laughs. “It makes you look not cute at all.” Yamapi’s pout turns up a notch. Jin rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he says, rolling to the side and throwing himself off his friend. He lands on the floor with a thud. His nose looks a little red and Yamapi pokes at it, just to make sure it isn’t broken. It would really suck for Jin to look like Kamenashi.
A breeze comes in through the open windows and cools the sweat on their skin. In the background, the video-game they had been playing loops the same jingle over and over again. The screen is displaying Game over in big, bold letters - Jin hadn’t bothered to pause the game when Yamapi had called him stupid.
“You’re hanging out with Ryo-chan a lot,” Jin says. Ryo has a sharp tongue and he likes to use it on Jin because he always gets angry. Yamapi doesn’t really think so, he always says it’s an Osakan thing because Shibutani-kun is a little mean sometimes, too.
“Ryo-chan is cool,” Yamapi says, “and you’re always talking to Jimmy.”
He doesn’t sound offended, just a little sulky at being neglected because of Jin’s weird fascination with America. It’ll probably pass, Yamapi thinks, that American-thing. Jin’s English sort of sucks.
The jingle is still blaring in all its 8bit-glory. Jin wrinkles his nose. “You can come when I’m talking with Jimmy,” he offers. “He mostly talks about you anyway.”
“Really?” Yamapi asks.
“Mmh,” Jin murmurs. When Yamapi turns his head to look at his friend, Jin’s cheeks are very red.
“You’re in a really bad shape if a little bit of fighting makes you look like that!” Yamapi blurts out.
Jin blinks, then he seems to flush even more and kicks Yamapi’s foot. Yamapi kicks back and Jin pulls his hair and Yamapi touches The Collarbones and they play-punch each other and forget all about the breeze and the game until Jin’s mom comes to get them for supper and catches Jin screeching “Fucker!” and after that only Yamapi gets to try the soba while Jin eats soap again.
***
The sun stands high in the sky, and birds are singing, but the bright light streaming in through the opened windows and the high-pitched melodies only make Yamapi bury himself deeper into the mess of blankets around him.
His head is pounding and he feels kind of gross, but the smell of a familiar cologne on the sheets calms him enough to chance peeking out from under his pillow. When he squints hard enough, he can roughly make out the digits on the alarm clock. It’s late, past lunch already, although his stomach doesn’t seem to care, having stayed unusually quiet.
It takes ten more minutes for Yamapi to muster up the energy to get up but eventually he’s padding around Jin’s apartment, his bare feet automatically carrying him to the kitchen.
Jin’s sitting at the kitchen-table with his laptop and a cup of coffee in front of him.
“Morning,” Jin says when Yamapi plops down next to him.
“Hm,” Yamapi replies, laying his head on the table and peering at Jin. His friend doesn’t look hung-over at all; there are dark circles under his eyes and he looks a little pale but that’s just lack of sleep. His hair is pulled back into a pony-tail; he’s wearing his geeky glasses. It doesn’t really scream idol but on the other hand Yamapi is too afraid to look into a mirror and see what his reflection is saying this morning.
Yamapi doesn’t apologize for disturbing Jin late at night and dragging his friends - the core of their little group, those around long enough to leave their beds just because he calls - out to party. He knows he doesn’t need to (and their roles have been reversed before) but at the same time he can’t help but feel slightly bad when Jin yawns widely.
Jin gropes around for his mug, finds it empty and moves to get more caffeine. From his position at the coffee-maker, his back turned to Yamapi who’s still half-lying on the table-top, there’s enough distance between them to ask personal questions without getting too close.
“You’re not gonna fight, huh?” Jin asks. Fight for her, he means, but Yamapi gets it without an explicit statement.
“Nah,” he murmurs, raising his head a little to stop slurring into the wood. “She was really upset. Doesn’t want to see me again, I think.”
“What’d you do, man, cheat on her?”
They both know Yamapi’s not that kind of guy, never interested in hurting anyone intentionally. He’s been known to be oblivious, though, and sometimes not knowing, not caring is even worse.
“I didn’t answer her question,” Yamapi says. The beep of the coffee-machine interrupts them, Jin rushing to fill two cups with dark liquid. There’s a soft clank when he sets them down on the table. Steam rises up.
“She asked me if I loved her,” Yamapi says, briefly glancing at Jin. He’s biting his lip, his chair squeaks when he sits down next to Yamapi.
“Well, fuck,” Jin says.
Yamapi nods slowly. The headache intensifies again.
***
Yamapi is lucky enough to have no work until the next day and while he should probably use his rare free-time to do something productive - visit his mum or call up friends he doesn’t see nearly often enough or even wash his car - he feels tired, lethargic and the head-ache still hasn’t gone away two hours later when he reaches his own apartment only to collapse on the couch. Whatever chemical the laundry-shop used to get the wine-stains out of the cushions doesn’t smell half as good as the musky scent of Jin’s cologne. Jin’s bed is softer, too, but it’s not like Yamapi can spend all day between Jin’s sheets. Especially since they’re not that kind of friends.
An incoming text makes Yamapi’s cell-phone vibrate against his hip and he’s fast to pull it out of his pocket. He hopes it’s not his manager asking him to come to a rescheduled shoot. Even though it’s happened before and most of his work has long since become routine, Yamapi is not really in the mood to smile (or not-smile) while stylists tug at his clothes.
Luckily, it’s not work. It’s Jin.
Pi’s emo, b nice n show respect, Jin’s message reads in a gibberish of Japanese and English slang.
Bakanishi, Yamapi types back, did you really want to send this to me?
The vibrating starts again a minute later.
Oops, Jin has written and attaches a little penguin-emoji. It’s cute, Yamapi thinks. Pengjin.
He thinks of writing something back, maybe teasing Jin about using emoticons but his eyelids feel heavy and before he can decide what to write he’s already fast asleep, curled up on the couch, his lax fingers dropping his cell-phone onto the rug.
***
It feels like Yamapi and Shirota have known each other forever even though they’re both still so young. They feel very grown-up at the age of sixteen, both of them already tall and slim, handsome in a way that drives their class-mates crazy, with offers for plenty of work at their agencies. At sixteen, words like forever sound cool and mature so they use them a lot, even for friendships that haven’t existed that long.
“You’re my mabudachi,” Yamapi declares one day when they’re sitting in Shirota’s garden, the Spanish folklore Shirota’s mum likes to listen to while doing the dishes provides a quiet background hum to their enthusiastic chattering.
Shirota cocks his head like he’s considering the term. Then his lips stretch into a smile. “Yeah,” he says. “You too!”
Yamapi feels pleased; he grins too. Rays of sunshine warm their skin. Shirota hums along with his mother’s music. It’s a happy song, and Yamapi wants to urge Shirota to use the words, to make Yamapi understand the content but they have tried before (on an afternoon back in winter when the sun did nothing to make them warm) and Shirota has refused to sing in Spanish for them, probably out of fear they might make fun of him because of the language.
They wouldn’t, though, or at least not much and not seriously. Jin still hasn’t stopped being fascinated by English even though he’s not really getting much better and they don’t make fun of him except for when he’s being particularly stupid. Car shrimp will never not be funny even though Jimmy had to explain it to Yamapi first.
Yamapi closes his eyes against the sun but he still sees orange, bright through his eyelids. A bee flies past his ear, the sudden noise enough to make him flail in his chair. He looks around himself, searching for the insect but it’s impossible to hear the buzzing over Shirota’s loud laughter, full-bodied and enough to rock his chair, too.
Yamapi frowns severely until Shirota looks up at him. Yamapi's been told his frown looks more cute than intimidating and Shirota seems to think so too since he starts laughing again, falling back into his chair and squinting at Yamapi. Yamapi is not impressed.
“I’m sorry,” Shirota finally rasps out when it’s clear that Yamapi isn’t intending to stop frowning anytime soon. “It was just really funny.”
“It was not,” Yamapi snaps.
Shirota giggles. “Okay, maybe not for you.”
Shirota’s mum switches the radio off and the only melodies now are sung by birds.
“Come on, Pi, don’t be like that,” Shirota says and Yamapi knows that a sentence just like that was the reason Shirota’s last girlfriend broke up with him.
Shirota sighs. “Tell me how I can make you forgive me.”
Yamapi’s eyes sparkle and he turns around to face Shirota completely. “Teach me Spanish,” he demands.
Shirota raises an eyebrow. “Really?” he asks, suspicious.
“Yeah,” Yamapi says.
“Si,” Shirota corrects.
“Shi,” Yamapi repeats.
Shirota rolls his eyes. “You sure you don’t rather want to do English with Jin instead?”
“Carshrimp,” Yamapi comments.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe Spanish would be better, then.”
***
His cell-phone wakes him early the next morning and this time it is his manager, just calling to say he’s gonna come to get Yamapi in twenty minutes.
Yamapi’s used to dressing fast and it’s only three minutes later that he’s standing in his bathroom staring into the mirror. His skin is pale, his eyes are dark and surrounded by shadows, and his hair is a complete mess, greasy and with random strands sticking out. He puts on a hat, brushes his teeth, picks out big sunglasses that hide most of his face. It’s what everybody expects from an idol and it’s exactly what they all use to make their short-comings invisible right under the public’s watchful eye.
The air conditioning in his manager’s car is turned up too high but today it’s fine like that, Yamapi doesn’t feel like being nice and warm. He checks his messages while the manager explains today’s schedule.
Tokyo-nii-san, Junpei has written, let’s go out to eat soon!
Photoshoot tonight, Yamapi lies in his response. Junpei will forgive him. But let’s meet up soon!
The next message is from Shirota Jun: I have a new necklace you might like, come check it out.
I’m busy all week, Yamapi tells him, I’ll try to swing by soon.
He could send his manager, too, or Jin maybe. It seems impossible to do it himself right now, not when he doesn’t even dare take off his sunglasses.
“I don’t think they’ll take very long today,” his manager speaks up. He’s a polite man in his thirties, has a wife at home and a pretty little daughter. He spends his days driving Yamapi around and making sure his appointments go well. Some days Yamapi wants to send him home and force him to spend the day with his family instead but it’s not his decision. Not everybody can earn money with singing and dancing.
They stop at a conbini on the way to the studio and Yamapi stays in the car while his manager goes in and buys him protein-jelly and an apple. They both know he probably won’t get much more than that all day.
***
They ask him questions about summer and the sea and what he’d like to do if he were free to go anywhere. He says L.A., I hear it’s a nice city. The interviewer nods happily, a photographer takes pictures of him lounging in a chair, relaxed and carefree, his problems hidden under layers of make-up.
“Yamashita-kun,” the interviewer asks, “what are your plans for a perfect summer date?”
She is young and they haven’t worked together before but she is polite even when his manager asks for a question to be removed. Everything she wants to know is what fans have been dying to find out so Yamapi tries to hide his wince when she asks about love.
“A summer date, huh?” he repeats. “Mah, in summer it must definitely be in a park! Eating ice-cream together and watching the sun go down - that’s definitely what girls like.”
The interviewer seems to like it, too, she thanks him profusely for the talk and bows until Yamapi and his manager have left the room.
“You’re meeting with the producer for your winter-drama now. It will probably take a few hours so I hope you didn’t plan a date like that for today,” his manager teases. Yamapi pushes his sunglasses back onto his nose and attempts a smile. No one really expects it to look happy.
“Does something like that really work on a girl?” the manager asks when they’re getting into the car. “My wife always says I’m unromantic.”
Yamapi remembers summer-days years ago, sunshine burning down onto his skin, strawberry ice-cream dripping down the cone. Jin’s laughter is loud even in his memories, Jin's tongue pink when he laps at the drops of melted ice sliding onto his hand, Jin's hair bright and flowing free around his face, the curls bouncing when he runs. Yamapi remembers Jin's eyes opened wide, sunshine reflected in his smile.
“I don’t know,” Yamapi answers, fumbling with the seat-belt. “I never tried it on a girl.”
***
The meeting doesn’t last very long and afterwards when he’s riding up the elevator to his apartment, Yamapi desperately hopes that he didn’t mess up, didn’t make a mistake and not realize it just because he’d been preoccupied.
The lights in his apartment are switched on and there’s a familiar pair of sneakers in the genkan. Ryo is slouching on Yamapi’s couch, watching the news on the plasma screen.
“Welcome home,” he says when he hears Yamapi’s footsteps.
“I’m home,” Yamapi answers, plopping down next to Ryo. There’s take-out on the coffee table and Yamapi happily tucks into his chicken in Szechuan-sauce. It’s delicious and he tells Ryo so around a mouthful of meat. Ryo tries hard to look stern but the corners of his eyes crinkle like when he laughs and his mouth twitches around his chopsticks. He’s eating rice, but then again Yamapi wouldn't expect anything else.
***
They throw NEWS into a room after the press-conference and tell them to get to know each other. It’s a little late, Yamapi thinks, since they’ve recorded the single already and the first little groups have already been built.
The oldest of their little bunch, a tall guy called Koyama who is amazingly perky, is chatting happily with two guys who’ve been his band mates before. One of them is Kato and the other Kusano but so far Yamapi hasn’t been interested in finding out who’s who. He wonders why Koyama was allowed to stay with part of his group and Yamapi had been forced to leave 4TOPS behind. He hasn’t talked to Toma for the whole week they’ve been NEWS.
In the corner another guy is doing crunches. He’s one of the young ones and Yamapi remembers him from Shounen Club tapings. He can’t seem to think of the right name but he knows the muscled boy has been skating with Kis-My-Ft. Yamapi doesn’t feel shame in thinking that at least that guy wasn’t allowed to bring his group, either.
The two youngest, a normal-looking guy called Morimoto and the kid who’s only been a junior for half a year, sit near the muscled guy and seem to count how often he manages to push his shoulders off the ground. All three of them haven’t drawn any kind of attention to themselves. They’re small and inexperienced and the white hoodies they’ve been given by the staff look too big on their slim frames. Not that they sit any better on Yamapi’s shoulders, but at least he’s gotten shorts where everybody else is stuck with long pants in summer.
Ryo and Uchi are the only ones Yamapi actually knows, Ryo more so than Uchi because they’ve been friends for years, but the two Osakans sort of come in a two-for-one deal and Yamapi’s not complaining because they’re fun.
“What the hell’s up with his hair?” Ryo bitches. He’s always liked to mock the weak and his current victim is one of Koyama’s followers. The one with the awful hair-cut, according to Ryo, though Yamapi isn’t sure either hair-style looks good.
“I can’t believe they’re sticking us in this group,” Ryo continues. He’s made very clear that he’s above the Tokyo-boys and in his opinion they should’ve let Kanjani8 debut instead. Yamapi sort of agrees.
Uchi is reading manga next to them and not really participating in the conversation. He’s probably heard it before since he and Ryo ride the bullet-train several hours a week.
“I don’t think I should be leader,” Yamapi says. He knows that he’s just leader because he’s the most popular, the most well-known, but he doesn’t think he wants to lead a group he doesn’t particularly care for.
“What are you talking about?” Ryo grumbles. “You’re the best thing in this group, use your powers to make them do your dirty laundry or something. Geez, you Tokyo-boys are so unimaginative.”
When Ryo is mean it just means he likes you a lot, Jin likes to say when Ryo is just far enough out of ear-shot for Jin to have a head-start when he has to start running away.
You’re the best thing in this group, Yamapi hears Ryo say and then a lot of embarrassed blabber to cover up feelings. Yamapi smiles.
“I like you, too, Ryo-chan,” he says. Uchi smirks behind his book while Ryo flushes a hot red and starts criticizing everything Yamapi’s done today.
***
They watch a movie that’s old and sort of bad but Ryo says it’s a classic so Yamapi doesn’t argue. He doesn’t care about what they watch, actually, he just wants the company even though he worked hard all day to push everyone away. It makes him feel bad because everybody meant well but sitting in his own living room with Ryo and a bottle of beer and a movie he doesn’t understand at all is just what he needs right now, a steady reassurance that he’s not alone.
They don’t really talk about stuff like that, about feelings, because Ryo insists they’re men and men don’t talk about mushy shit which they all know is code for things Ryo gets embarrassed about. They try not to tease him too much because he tries hard to be there even when someone is distinctly un-male.
“I think I can’t love anyone,” Yamapi slurs after his third-forth-fifth beer. He doesn’t really have any alcohol-tolerance today; he feels sleepy and gross and the film stopped even pretending to make sense half an hour ago. Ryo is still watching, though. Apparently it came highly recommended. In Ryo-speak, that usually means Shige was talking about it.
“You know, I really liked her. Like, lots. She’s smart and cute and her hair smells really nice and she knows that I’m working a lot and she’s not complaining.” Yamapi sips at his beer, slumps more onto Ryo’s smaller form. “I liked being with her and it was easy so I thought that could be it and now… it’s not.” He frowns at the television. “Even my manager is able to have a relationship and he’s pretty much married to his work.”
Ryo snorts. “That means he’s married to you, idiot.”
“Eh~,” Yamapi murmurs, “but he’s not my type at all!”
Ryo tugs at Yamapi’s bottle until he can put it away on the table. “Wrong thing to focus on. I think you’ve had enough.”
“No,” Yamapi whines, “I want to stay up with Ryo-chan.”
“Ryo-chan has work tomorrow morning and so do you. Let’s go to bed.”
This time, the lights are on but Yamapi still bumps into the bookshelves and falls over his clothes. His shins feel like his bruises have bruises.
He can’t keep his eyes open, especially not when Ryo makes sure to tuck him in and close the blinds. “I’m crashing on your couch,” he announces and ruffles Yamapi’s hair. “Sleep well.”
Yamapi doesn’t get to respond this time, either.
***
The world is cruel, Yamapi decides when Ryo drags him out of bed only a few hours later. They drive to the shooting-location together and doze on each other while the rest of NEWS is in make-up. The morning is unusually cold and the wind whips around their heads, throwing their hair into their faces. Yamapi hopes it’s what the photographer is going for, otherwise this day will get even longer.
Apparently weather-ruffled is in this season because everybody on set ooohs and aaahs when they pose, all of them trying to convey a laid-back but sexy feeling even though they’re shivering under their thin clothes and their chattering teeth are too loud to understand other directions.
“Let’s take a break,” the photographer says after half an hour and they’re all shuffled into the make-up van.
“Why is it so cold?” Ryo whines. “Didn’t you say it was global warming, genius?”
Shige rolls his eyes. “It is. If you’d look past Tokyo-”
“Why should I look past Tokyo? It’s May and it’s freaking cold-”
Yamapi blocks them both out when they start talking over each other. Everybody knows Ryo loves arguing. Jin says it’s the Osakan kind of foreplay. Ryo says Jin is stupid and fat. They have that conversation a lot.
Yamapi pulls out his cell and opens the jweb-application. He almost forgot to update yesterday and ended up writing about his imaginary lunch. It had been curry and he would’ve really liked to have that a lot.
Today I am working with all of NEWS.
It’s a cold day so make sure to wear a jacket when you go outside!
Being able to spend the day taking photos for our new single makes me happy.
Even though it’s cold, our hearts are warm.
Maybe, like this, with our hearts warm and open to each other we can create a kind of global warming that won’t be dangerous for the planet.
I’ll be working hard today, too.
He hits send and watches a little envelope appear on his monitor. It’s a text from Jaejoong.
If you are sad it’s best to cry, the Korean has written and it makes Yamapi happy that Jin considers him part of their friends and sent him the message, too. But if you need someone to cry on, give me a call.
Shige and Ryo stop arguing and push at each other from where they’re sitting next to each other on a couch. It’s all a motion to keep touching each other and benefit from each other’s body warmth but nobody calls them on it.
Thank you, Yamapi sends to Jaejoong. He can’t remember the last time he cried with someone around.
There’s another envelope, this time a mail from Kusano.
Movie night at my house tonight. Jin is making pasta.
***
It’s been a year since they last saw each other, a year since Kusano hopped on a plane to America and Yamapi swung by to wish him good luck.
They liked each other when they were in a group together but it wasn’t until later when Kusano actually took his life into his own hands that they found similarities in their thinking, in their liking, in their planning. Not so much in their taste in women, though.
Chicks in New York are really easy, Kusano writes in a mail two months after he left the country. And they totally dig Asians. I’m exciting and new. He attaches pictures of himself in clubs with scantily-clad blondes. Yamapi doesn’t share his enthusiasm.
She is a friend but I think she likes me, Yamapi writes when he’s angsting over what to wear for his first date, I like Japanese women, they’re elegant. Yamapi doesn’t attach a picture, but
Kusano mails back, demanding pictures or it didn’t happen. Yamapi scans a shop-photo of Kusano smiling at Ryo and attaches that instead. Kusano doesn’t show off his blonde bitches after that.
I’m coming back next month, Kusano tells him half a year later. I’m staying at my parent’s so come get me if you want to hang out.
Yamapi is up to his head in rehearsals and drama-filming and the regular interviews and photo shoots. He barely has the time to sleep more than two hours at night. It still takes him only three days to knock on Kusano’s door.
Kusano opens the door and he’s suddenly grown up, stubble on his chin, his hair long and tied back in a messy pony-tail. “Hi,” he says, in English, and Yamapi starts laughing because he’s seen that before, sees it more than once a week.
“Hi,” Yamapi answers in Japanese. “Get your jacket, I want to introduce you to someone.”
Jin and Kusano hit it off beautifully and even though Yamapi still isn’t interested in the blonde bitches - “and boobs”, Jin stresses - their smiles when they part and the dinner a week later where they both show their appreciation of Italian cuisine assure Yamapi that he’s still important to both of them.
***
“Drink whenever Kame licks his lips!” Jin says and nods at Kusano to write it down. Ryo had complained that they didn’t need to write down rules because Jin always started cheating half-way through anyway but Jin had insisted on doing it properly. Yamapi thinks it’s a pity Shirota’s stuck filming on location, he would’ve had fun with the insanity.
“Drink whenever Nakamaru looks violated,” Ryo offers.
“Drink whenever Taguchi makes a pun.”
“Drink whenever Ueda is ugly.”
“Ryo-chan, don’t be mean,” Jin says, stealing Kusano’s pencil to cross out the last suggestion.
Yamapi rolls his eyes and presses play. They’re marathoning Cartoon KAT-TUN because Kusano wasn’t around when it was on TV and Ryo likes mocking Jin’s group. Yamapi just wanted the pasta but he prefers KAT-TUN’s variety-show to yet another of Ryo’s smart and completely senseless movies. His head-ache is telling him he shouldn’t be drinking today too, but the same part of him that is sad and heart-broken also thinks he needs a drink before he can stomach Nakamaru bungee-jumping.
Turns out Nakamaru looks violated all the time and Junno seems to feel obligated to pun even more to lift the mood. Then they have Kame jump and apparently he only concentrates with his tongue hanging out. After just one episode they’re all pleasantly buzzed, sprawled out on Kusano’s couch which is not as nice as Yamapi's but also doesn’t smell like chemical cleaning.
The plan might’ve been to watch the season in order but Jin gets bored easily and they let him skip and fast forward until he’s reached the last episode of the Love-arc. He seems happy with that one, possibly because he got away relatively easy while Koki had to do a silly dance and they made Nakamaru touch slimy animals again.
“Hey, Ueda looks violated, too,” Kusano comments when Ueda and Taguchi have to make a balloon burst with their bodies. “Does that count?”
“If you're still thinking about the rules you should drink more,” Ryo smirks. Kusano shrugs and downs a shot of Tequila.
Yamapi wonders if he should drink more, too, because he’s still trying to follow what weird plot they’ve thought of for this episode. It’s close to the end though, and while the credits roll, the scene switches back to the basement. It seems like KAT-TUN found out what love is all about.
It’s a nice ending, Yamapi thinks, though then again perhaps Koki didn’t really get it.
I know now but I won’t tell you, Jin’s card says.
“That means you don’t know, huh?” Ryo teases.
“I totally do.”
“Oh yeah? So what’s the meaning of love?”
Yamapi’s eyes are closed; he feels sleep trying to grasp him. He’s too lazy to fight and his body relaxes against the cushion.
***
Yamapi’s driving fast and they’ll reach the airport on time, just right for Jin to check in and board a plane that will take him away from Yamapi for forever.
“It’s not forever,” Jin says. He’s suspiciously calm even though he should be anxious. Yamapi’s anxious enough for both of them. “I’m coming back soon and then we’ll laugh about you whining about forever.”
“I’m not whining,” Yamapi says automatically, stopping at a traffic-light. He chances a look to his left. Jin’s slouching in his seat, his feet tapping against the door. The light changes to green. Yamapi accelerates.
“How did Kame take the news?” he asks to fill the silence.
“Not well, obviously. He says I’m a selfish bastard. I told him I can’t go on like this. Didn’t really make him happier, I thought he was gonna cry.” Jin scratches at his elbow. “We talked on the phone yesterday, he wished me good luck. I promised I’d come back. He told me I’d better, otherwise Koki’d have my balls.”
Yamapi smirks shakily. At least Koki shares his feelings.
They continue to drive in silence. Yamapi keeps half an eye on Jin but he seems absolutely unperturbed by the fact he’s about to move to another continent. The nonchalance is driving him crazy, he’d rather have Jin break down and cry than sit here with him and refuse to be affected by the situation.
“Listen,” Jin says after a while when they get closer and closer to the airport. “I know you’re worried but it’s fine, okay? Ryo yelled at me and Kame cried and my dad is proud and Johnny really likes the idea of branching out into the US. I heard everything already and I know you’re worried but I’m coming back.”
They drive into a parking lot at the airport and the car slows to a stop.
“Pi?” Jin asks when Yamapi doesn’t immediately get out.
Yamapi sighs. “I wish I were Batman,” he says.
“What?” Jin blurts out. “Why Batman?”
“Then I’d think of something smart to make sure you don’t get into trouble in LA.”
Jin stars unblinkingly at Yamapi. Then a wide grin spreads over his face.
“No way,” he says, “Superman is much cooler.”
“Is not,” Yamapi says, winking at Jin.
“Is too. If you were Superman you could fly over the ocean and visit me.”
“Bakanishi,” Yamapi grins, “I can get on a plane and visit you.”
“So do it,” Jin says. It’s not a joke; his eyes are wide and dark. He looks all of fourteen again, gangly and proud of being able to cuss.
“Okay,” Yamapi says. He imagines the jingle of a lost game and the soft voice of Jin’s mother calling them down for dinner. The sun doesn’t shine, but he still feels the rays tickle his skin.
“Okay,” Jin says. They both smile.
***
It’s not the sun that wakes him and it’s not his cell or Ryo either. Soft breaths puff over his collarbones, long hair tickles his chest. When Yamapi opens his eyes, it’s dark but he doesn’t need light to recognize Jin lying on top of him.
His neck is stiff after hours of lying on the couch and Jin’s weight on his chest makes it harder to breathe. Still he’s careful not to shift too much, he’s just turning his head around to look for Ryo and Kusano.
Ryo’s sprawled out on the carpet in front of the TV; he’s quietly snoring, his chest rising and falling in rhythm. Kusano isn’t in the room with them. He probably went to sleep in his own bed seeing as they’ve taken all available soft spaces.
Yamapi lifts his arm without thinking. It feels natural for his fingers to comb through Jin’s curls. Yamapi wonders what Jin answered, if Jin really knows what the meaning of love is. He wonders if Jin would share his epiphany or if Yamapi’s going to be stuck like that, clueless about love and making people sad with his obliviousness.
“Jin,” Yamapi murmurs quietly, “what is love?”
Clouds draw away from the moon and light streams in through the open blinds. It hits Jin right in the face and Yamapi’s fast to shift his hand so he’s blocking the light. Jin squirms a bit against Yamapi, then he calms down again, murmuring something against Yamapi’s skin that’s too quiet for him to understand.
“What did you say?” Yamapi asks. And then, just because he can: “Jin?”
“Yamapi,” Jin husks over Yamapi’s collarbones.
“Jin, are you awake?” Yamapi asks.
“No,” Jin answers and Yamapi chuckles. It makes Jin bounce a little on his chest.
“It’s Yamapi,” Jin says. Yamapi pulls his hand back and watches as Jin squints against the sudden light.
“Of course it’s Yamapi, who did you think I was?”
“No,” Jin whispers, burying his head into Yamapi’s neck to block out the light. “Love. Yamapi is love.”
Yamapi drops his hand to comb through Jin’s hair again. “Jin is love, too,” he says.
“No,” Jin whines, “I’m Superman.”
“Jin, are you awake?” Yamapi asks. Jin snores in response.
“Because he’s strong and he gets the girl and he can shoot lasers, isn’t that just so cool, Yamapi?”
“Yeah, that’s really cool,” Yamapi whispers.
Poll Team Present