Prompt 7: Today your heart, tomorrow the world - Team Present
Title: You May Have (Never) Noticed
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nishikido Ryo/Masuda Takahisa
Summary: Ryo watches and learns and falls - at least, just a little bit.
Prompt: “today your heart, tomorrow the world”
Warnings: Unless you count typical Ryo!snark, there’s really nothing but fluff behind the cut. :D
Notes: Thanks to my wonderbar betas Z, C and L for reading this and putting up with my panic and low confidence to get this thing done - I owe you guys one, or two, or maybe even three. ♥
Ryo had never bothered to really try and delve into the minds of the other members of NEWS. It wasn’t anything personal, and it wasn’t out of any lack of interest in the rest of them, but with the exception of Pi, he didn’t feel a great need to get involved all that much. He was never quite the type to ask people directly about themselves, nor would he ever, but as far as he was concerned, he would listen if anyone wanted to voluntarily offer up information and that would be the extent of that.
It’s worked for years, and Ryo now knows enough to have most of his bases covered whenever magazines ask them about each others’ lives. As far as he knew, Tegoshi still plays futsal whenever he gets a block of free time. As far as he knows, Koyama is improving so much at Korean, he might as well be Korean. As far as he knows, Shige is staring at his law degree whenever he gets a chance; maybe even kisses it every night before he goes to bed.
These quips of his have worked because he is faced everyday with double the work than anyone else in the agency, and these tiny tidbits offer just enough insight on the others’ lives to make him look like he and the rest of the group were as close-knit as everyone wanted to think they were. Everyone is satisfied, no one is alienated, all is right with the world.
Until one day, the interviewer asks him about Massu, and Ryo’s mind goes blank.
For the life of him, he can’t remember anything about Massu’s recent going ons. Just something about some weird percussion instrument that starts with an ‘A’. So he blurts it out and tosses something about gyoza in there as well as a desperate safety net. The interviewer looks puzzled but doesn’t say anything.
When Ryo gets his complimentary issue of the magazine, he finds his comment about the instrument-that-starts-with-A omitted, and the gyoza comment preserved. That was the end of that, really. Saved by the editorial process.
He finds out later that the instrument Massu was learning was called an asratua. Ryo can now spend his nights in peaceful, restful slumber.
The next sentence in his text from Tegoshi (how the brat even knew about his blunder was a mystery in itself) reveals to Ryo that Massu had sincerely learned to play the asratua - a year ago.
Oh.
Well…
Fuck.
The next time NEWS is called together for a photoshoot or something-or-other, Ryo spends their entire prep period in the dressing room staring at the back of Massu’s head, wondering to himself how he could have dropped the ball so much on that one. However, after an hour of wondering, the rather depressing outcome was that he didn’t know anything about Massu because of three things. One: Massu was surprisingly private about his life away from the cameras; not just to Ryo, but to everyone. Two: Massu was pretty socially awkward, which only made Ryo feel awkward, and how the hell do you sustain a conversation between two awkward people? And three: when it came down to it, Ryo didn’t have anything in common with Massu. They both knew they lead completely different, nowhere-near-colliding lives, and that, more than anything, is why they barely ever had anything to say to each other that was significant or meaningful.
Ryo understands this really well, and it gives him one less person to try to catch up with, but he had a reputation to maintain and a group image to protect. There has to be something about Massu that he could find out for himself, but the problem with not knowing how to approach the other man was just that: he had no idea how to broach their admittedly awkward relationship to even ask him to dinner for one night.
So the first thing he does is invite Tegoshi out to dinner instead.
Tegoshi looks thoughtful when Ryo explains his dilemma to him, or maybe a cross between amused and puzzled that just happened to look thoughtful. “That’s great and everything,” Tegoshi starts, slightly uncertain. “But why are you asking me out to eat, then?”
“Because,” Ryo says. “You know him the best out of all of us.”
Tegoshi smiles; one of his smaller, natural, more sincere smiles than the face-eating grins he lets loose on TV. “That may be true. But you do know he doesn’t tell me anything other than what all of us know already?” He pauses. “Well, most of us, apparently. And besides, I’m not just going to let you dig and prod until you find out something new.”
“Why not?” Ryo almost whines.
“Because it’s Massu,” Tegoshi replies, like it should answer Ryo’s question and deflect all subsequent attempts at information digging thereafter.
Ryo finds he can’t argue with it.
Dinner ends up a bust, as the rest of the time is spent letting Tegoshi go on and on about his obvious excitement over the upcoming World Cup, movies that he recently watched and enjoyed, and inevitably, how the Tegomasu tour is progressing. However, if anything salvages the outing at all, it is Tegoshi’s less-than-subtle suggestion to check out one of the remaining dates of their tour.
“Who knows? You might learn something,” Tegoshi says as they loiter outside of the restaurant before going their separate ways. He beams then, bright and somewhat harshly in the dark of the night surrounding them. “Maybe you just need to stop thinking and watch.”
And so Ryo watches. Not a concert, since he’s pretty sure he is all booked up with Kanjani8 activities throughout the rest of their tour, but he does start with Soukon!. He watches it whenever he has a spare moment, copying episodes onto his iPod and watching them on the bullet train and in dressing rooms between photoshoots and interviews. The premise isn’t exactly the most exhilarating thing to have ever hit television, but it gave the fans something to hold on to that was strictly Tegoshi, Koyama, Shige, and Massu. Ryo appreciates the variety show’s existence from the get go because of that reason.
In the grand scheme of things, the show doesn’t actually reveal much about Massu that Ryo doesn’t already know - he knows about Massu’s weakness against heat; how he’s more prone to quick bursts of energy rather than long, drawn out periods of activity; the way he cowers in the face of anything any human being may have a fear of; even how unexpectedly toned Massu’s body is in comparison to the other three - hell, all of them. By the third episode, there’s a niggling in the back of Ryo’s head that’s telling him that this is just a waste of time, but something about Tegoshi’s voice, the way he sounded almost protective of Massu made him keep going.
Things start to change a little when he gets to the episode at the zoo.
There isn’t much different in this episode from the ones before it, but it was the first time Ryo has ever seen Massu willingly reach out and touch one of the other members. Sure, Massu may have done it reflexively considering the tiger looked like it was going to tear his face off, but for as long as he can remember, Massu always gave in to fanservice reluctantly. It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Shige was the one that Massu clung onto, like that useless nerd could actually be of any help in an ultimate battle against a tiger. Ryo frowns, clicks his TV off, and buries himself underneath the covers, trying his hand at going to sleep.
And anyway, Shige looked a little too pleased for his liking, too.
By the end of the ‘stairs of Tokyo Tower’ segment, Ryo has lost count of the number of times he found himself entranced by the shapeliness of Massu’s legs, the broadness of his shoulders and how slender his arms were; his stomach clenched when Tegoshi, Koyama and Shige forced Massu to peek out the lookdown window when they were on top of the tower. Not because Massu was afraid of heights and it was a pretty awful thing to make him do (Ryo laughed. Go figure.) But because in the grand scuffle, Shige’s hands and Massu’s (albeit nice) behind were a little too well acquainted.
Ryo considers watching all of Soukon! a happy accomplishment, especially when he felt he was being tortured by the cheap humor gods during Koyama’s ‘experiments.’ And because it is a happy accomplishment, he decides that he deserves praise. Naturally, this means being as smug as he can muster, because this Sexy Osakan took the time out of his schedule to watch their crap variety show. Nevermind that it’s been weeks since it ended. It’s the principle of it all, goddamnit.
“Massu,” Ryo says when he first enters the dressing room, hoping his swagger is properly in place.
“Hmm?” Massu wonders, lifting his attention from the men’s fashion magazine in his lap, head tilted to the side as he looks at Ryo with curiosity.
“I watched it. Soukon!, I mean.” Ryo swallows, wondering why his bravado isn’t kicking in on time. “Not all of it or anything. Just. Some of it.”
And then he realizes that even his exaggerated pomposity has no hope of winning against the genuinely pleased smile on Massu’s face right then. “Ah, really? That makes me happy, Nishikido-kun!”
“Heh, well,” Ryo secretly reveled in his tan, as it is surely helping to hide the stupid, traitorous blush forming on his cheeks. “I was just channel surfing most of the time.”
“But,” Massu presses on, smile growing even wider and, fuck, Ryo didn’t think that was even possible. “You stopped and watched, right?”
Ryo pauses, any sort of retort dying on his tongue. “Yeah, well. It’s not a big deal.”
“I think what Ryo-chan is trying to say is,” Tegoshi cuts in, annoyingly chipper and obviously up to something not-so-good. Ryo would’ve shut him up if he wasn’t so startled, as he forgot the rest of the group was even there. “You should let him take you out on a shopping date, Massu.”
No, no, no, that was absolutely not in the plan, because if it was, then he would have to kiss an entire day goodbye, and Ryo hadn’t budgeted for that, not at all, and -
“Really?” The hopeful tone in Massu’s voice makes Ryo inwardly cringe. He stops, vows to make Tegoshi regret this for the rest of his life, and sighs.
“Yeah. What day are you free?”
They meet up on the strip of shops Massu has deemed as his favorite; not surprisingly, a strip Ryo has never found himself on except to walk right on by, and as he takes a closer look at his surroundings, he can see why. The shops are all filled to the brim with color after color, pattern after pattern, weird fedoras and seatbelt belts - stuff right up Massu’s alley. He prepares for the day, though; it takes a lot of mental strengthening.
There is a delicate tap on his shoulder and Ryo whirls around, hoping it isn’t a crazy stalker fan or something. He comes face to face with Massu, noticeably disguise-less. “Where’s your hat?”
“Eh? I never wear one,” Massu shrugs. Ryo notices that he is dressed in a somewhat subdued manner, opting for a nice, subtle beige and a pumpkin bright orange. Ryo would take what he could get.
Besides, the shirt hugs his shoulders in all the right ways, and Ryo quickly fishes for something to say.
“Don’t people notice you?” Ryo asks. Massu chuckles.
“Not really! Or, if they do, no one makes a big deal out of it.” He pauses, smile and dimples making Ryo feel uneasy. “It’s not like I’m you, or Yamashita-kun.”
Ryo pulls his hat down further, trying to cover up his face. “Come on, you’re embarrassing me.”
They begin their trek through the shops-of-ridiculousness on a high note, Massu’s laugh resonating in Ryo’s ears, and for the first time, Ryo finds himself being lead rather than doing the leading. He has no idea what the area has to offer, and between the way Massu zigzags through the crowds and how he mutters to himself about which shops should be having sales, Ryo finds that he doesn’t really mind being taken for the ride. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Massu looking so relaxed and in his element, if ever, but Massu looks like he belongs in this little corner of Shibuya. It’s a far cry from the awkward, sometimes idol-like man Ryo sees during work.
They first wander through some of the stores that Massu occasionally finds something in, though Ryo has no idea why. “You never know!” Massu answers when Ryo asks as they entered their fifth store with the same status in Massu’s fashion notebook. “One day, they might surprise you, and you’ll find something you absolutely love!”
“What if you end up buying too much and don’t have money for your favorite stores, though?” Ryo presses.
Massu shrugs. “But if they’re your favorite stores, they never let you down. I can skip them and go next week and know I’ll find something, because I always find something. Does that make sense?” He looks up from the rack of hoodies he was rifling through, triumphantly clutching one of the hangers in his hand. “Ah, I think Nishikido-kun would look good in this!”
“…it’s bright pink and yellow plaid.” Ryo deadpans.
Massu laughs. “I guess that’s a big jump. We should start you off slow.” He places the hoodie back on the rack.
For some reason, the headache Ryo was expecting from shopping with Massu never comes, but he figures it’s because he finally sort of understands Massu’s shopping tendencies. Nevertheless, by the seventh store, even though Ryo can appreciate Massu’s love for shopping, he finds his patience wearing thin and his stomach grumbling in protest. Ryo checked his watch and noted that it was almost past dinnertime. Thankfully, Massu seems to get the hint, and he takes them to his favorite okonomiyaki restaurant a few blocks over.
“So you didn’t end up buying anything?” Ryo asks when they sit, noticing the distinct lack of shopping bags in Massu’s hands.
Massu shakes his head. “Maybe not today. Nothing really jumped out at me.”
Ryo still couldn’t quite get why they needed to spend three hours just to conclude that, but all right.
They cook the okonomiyaki together, Ryo a self-proclaimed expert on the way it should taste and the technique during the cooking process, because, after all, he is the Osakan of the bunch. Massu seems more than pleased with just having an input on what he wanted in it, anyway. They banter back and forth, Massu playing into his somewhat airheaded personality, Ryo feeding off it and letting his quick-tongue take over. It’s much less awkward than Ryo had expected.
“Thank you for coming today, Nishikido-kun,” Massu says, beaming happily as they finished eating. “I know you hate shopping with me.”
Maybe it was the unexpectedly good time he was having, or the fact that he was pleased that his okonomiyaki cooking skills were still up to par - and it definitely is not the strong sense of Massu enveloping him - but he finds it really, really hard to try to take back a sentence like, “Maybe I don’t want to hate it.”
But the embarrassment could possibly be worth it if it means the slow smile spreading on Massu’s lips is because of him. Ryo blushes, blames the heat from the stovetop, and gets the check - he’d treat.
They don’t say much more as they take the train together until they inevitably have to split and go different ways. Ryo still has Massu’s smile lingering on his mind when he gets a text message from him, settled on his couch and mindlessly watching TV.
”Thanks again for today! Next time, we’ll do something you like to do! (^з^)-☆”
For the life of him, Ryo has no idea what to do the day he and Massu planned to hang out. Massu wanted to do something that Ryo liked, but truthfully, he just liked being at home. It was why he left the studio immediately whenever they were done with work. So what Ryo planned was going to be simple, easy - something at home.
They order take-out from Ryo’s favorite ramen place down the street and make lots of small talk as they wait for it to get there. Massu pokes and prods at things, clearly interested but never actually asking about what some of the pictures are or what they mean. So Ryo offers the information, telling the other about childhood memories and family vacations and recent birthdays. Massu laughs where he’s supposed to, pays close attention, inspects the picture when instructed to do so, and all in all, he is the picturesque example of what a perfect houseguest should be.
Ryo fans out a few movies on the floor in front of his TV, some rented, some from his own collection, and Massu picks out what they were going to watch as Ryo spread their food out on his coffee table. “I know this isn’t as glamorous as a day in Shibuya, but…” Ryo pushes a bowl of ramen towards Massu as he settles down next to him.
Massu breaks apart his pair of disposable chopsticks with a distinctive crack! and presses play on the DVD remote when the menu appears. “It’s fine!” Ryo watches him shake his head, hair flying in and out of small eyes. “This is very…Nishikido-kun-like.”
Ryo pays little attention to the movie, and even less attention to the next one. It’s quiet this time, with just the two of them and the buzz of the television, and Ryo finds himself lost in his thoughts more often than he’d like. He thinks he might genuinely like Massu, in all his bubbly, awkward self; likes the fact that he is particularly stubborn about things that can define an idol. He’s even somewhat charmed by the gap between Massu’s personality and physique. A few glances out the corner of his eye reveals Massu’s face, happily round eyes small but bright, lashes short but plenty, and Ryo doesn’t even have to look very hard to see that the other man is insanely attractive in his own way. And maybe he’s always thought this, just never took the proper time to really watch and look and notice…
It’s also oddly fitting that Ryo decides to kiss Massu during a comedy; anything else would have left a clichéd feeling in his stomach, rather than the flutter of pleasant butterflies he has now.
Except it’s short, really much too short, and Ryo barely has the time to marvel at how soft Massu’s lips are and curse himself for not putting on chapstick beforehand, but this was spontaneous and unexpected, about as unexpected as Massu kissing him back for a few seconds before pushing Ryo away.
Neither of them say anything, just intent on sitting there and staring at each other wide-eyed. There’s a funny moment in the movie, and Ryo kind of wants to laugh, if just to be able to get the panic settling in his chest out in some way. Massu opens and closes his mouth, then looks down.
“I should probably go.” He gets up and is slipping his shoes on by the time Ryo gets to his feet, and he’s almost completely out the door when Ryo has barely crossed the length of his living room. “…thanks for tonight,” Massu says, then shuts the door behind him as he leaves.
Ryo stops in his tracks and does everything in his power to stop himself from pounding his head against the closest wall.
"I'm sorry," Ryo says into his cell phone a few days later, the silence of Massu's voicemail on the other end. "I'm sorry. Um. Look, I'm...I'm just sorry, all right?" Ryo continues, and when his mind blanks and he can't think of anything else to add that was different from the past two or three voicemails he left already in days past, Ryo flips his phone shut, the click! resounding in its finality. The rain pitter-patters onto his umbrella for the third day straight and he looks up, observes the sky in its dark, gloomy glory as he waits at the crosswalk for the pedestrian light to turn green.
It's not uncommon for rainy days in the summer, but sometimes, Ryo's convinced the clouds won't stay away.
“I just want to know,” Pi says over dinner one night, after another few days go by. “How you managed to get yourself into trouble with Massu, of all people.”
“I’m in trouble?” Ryo asks, head perking up.
Pi sighed. “No, you’re not in trouble. At least, not that I know of. Tegoshi just said that Massu wanted space.”
“Of course he wants space. They always want space,” Ryo grumbles to himself, going back to his food once he deemed that Pi doesn’t have any worthwhile information after all. Not to mention Ryo was angry with Tegoshi, anyway. All of this was technically his fault.
“He doesn’t hate you. Isn’t that something?” Pi suggests.
“I don’t think Massu is actually capable of hating anyone,” Ryo replies. “So…no, that isn’t something.”
Pi steals a few pieces of food off of Ryo’s plate. “Wasn’t this entire thing because you wanted to learn more about Massu? I don’t think you’re the best person to make judgment calls right now.”
“Clearly. For some reason, I asked you to dinner.”
Pi grins. “Touché.”
"So," Ryo says calmly, after successfully shoving four protesting NEWS members out of their dressing room, leaving him alone with Massu, who stood in his meticulously arranged corner, petulantly shifting from one foot to the other.
"So," Massu answers.
"So," Ryo repeats, hands placed firmly on his hips, determined. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."
Massu colors. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Truth be told, not even Ryo knows what he is talking about. All he knows is that when he woke up that morning, he was going to figure things out, if only for his own sanity. It was hard to say, and he'd kill anyone who would try to make him say it, but he hadn't really expected all of this when he first went on his journey to secure some sort of understanding of what Massu's life was like. He hadn't anticipated his heartbeat to gradually begin to pound louder and faster in his ears, or the way his legs felt unsure of their footing whenever he tried to fall in step next to the younger man. He wasn't sure when the sudden urges to smile and giggle when he was around Massu started, either, but he'll throw it into the mix, because Ryo is really, finally pretty certain that it isn't love, but it sure is something. Something along the lines of, "a hell of a lot of like".
"Look, Massu," Ryo begins, taking a step forward. "We're...that is to say, I..."
"Go on,” Massu prompts.
Ryo swallows. “I like you.”
Another pause this time. “…I think I got that a bit ago.”
“And,” Ryo continues, his heartbeat thumping in his ears. “I know you like your privacy and you like to keep your private friends and family and everything separate from work, but. But, maybe, do you think, this time, you could try letting me in?”
When Massu smiles, Ryo lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Nishikido-kun, I let you in the day you went shopping with me.”
A week goes by and it’s as if nothing changed, so normal that it seems like Ryo and Massu just went back to being how they were before the past month or so. Ryo supposes he’s okay with it - he doesn't see much choice in the matter.
But one day, Massu invites him in a single-sentenced text message to hang out during the weekend. With Massu, and Massu's friends.
Ryo waits ten minutes to text back a, "Yeah, sure," to try and not seem too desperate, but it feels like forever and the smiley emoji he stuck on at the end probably gives it away, anyway.
That weekend, he wears a certain bright pink and yellow plaid hoodie. It really doesn't look so bad, after all.
Poll Team Present
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Nishikido Ryo/Masuda Takahisa
Summary: Ryo watches and learns and falls - at least, just a little bit.
Prompt: “today your heart, tomorrow the world”
Warnings: Unless you count typical Ryo!snark, there’s really nothing but fluff behind the cut. :D
Notes: Thanks to my wonderbar betas Z, C and L for reading this and putting up with my panic and low confidence to get this thing done - I owe you guys one, or two, or maybe even three. ♥
Ryo had never bothered to really try and delve into the minds of the other members of NEWS. It wasn’t anything personal, and it wasn’t out of any lack of interest in the rest of them, but with the exception of Pi, he didn’t feel a great need to get involved all that much. He was never quite the type to ask people directly about themselves, nor would he ever, but as far as he was concerned, he would listen if anyone wanted to voluntarily offer up information and that would be the extent of that.
It’s worked for years, and Ryo now knows enough to have most of his bases covered whenever magazines ask them about each others’ lives. As far as he knew, Tegoshi still plays futsal whenever he gets a block of free time. As far as he knows, Koyama is improving so much at Korean, he might as well be Korean. As far as he knows, Shige is staring at his law degree whenever he gets a chance; maybe even kisses it every night before he goes to bed.
These quips of his have worked because he is faced everyday with double the work than anyone else in the agency, and these tiny tidbits offer just enough insight on the others’ lives to make him look like he and the rest of the group were as close-knit as everyone wanted to think they were. Everyone is satisfied, no one is alienated, all is right with the world.
Until one day, the interviewer asks him about Massu, and Ryo’s mind goes blank.
For the life of him, he can’t remember anything about Massu’s recent going ons. Just something about some weird percussion instrument that starts with an ‘A’. So he blurts it out and tosses something about gyoza in there as well as a desperate safety net. The interviewer looks puzzled but doesn’t say anything.
When Ryo gets his complimentary issue of the magazine, he finds his comment about the instrument-that-starts-with-A omitted, and the gyoza comment preserved. That was the end of that, really. Saved by the editorial process.
He finds out later that the instrument Massu was learning was called an asratua. Ryo can now spend his nights in peaceful, restful slumber.
The next sentence in his text from Tegoshi (how the brat even knew about his blunder was a mystery in itself) reveals to Ryo that Massu had sincerely learned to play the asratua - a year ago.
Oh.
Well…
Fuck.
The next time NEWS is called together for a photoshoot or something-or-other, Ryo spends their entire prep period in the dressing room staring at the back of Massu’s head, wondering to himself how he could have dropped the ball so much on that one. However, after an hour of wondering, the rather depressing outcome was that he didn’t know anything about Massu because of three things. One: Massu was surprisingly private about his life away from the cameras; not just to Ryo, but to everyone. Two: Massu was pretty socially awkward, which only made Ryo feel awkward, and how the hell do you sustain a conversation between two awkward people? And three: when it came down to it, Ryo didn’t have anything in common with Massu. They both knew they lead completely different, nowhere-near-colliding lives, and that, more than anything, is why they barely ever had anything to say to each other that was significant or meaningful.
Ryo understands this really well, and it gives him one less person to try to catch up with, but he had a reputation to maintain and a group image to protect. There has to be something about Massu that he could find out for himself, but the problem with not knowing how to approach the other man was just that: he had no idea how to broach their admittedly awkward relationship to even ask him to dinner for one night.
So the first thing he does is invite Tegoshi out to dinner instead.
Tegoshi looks thoughtful when Ryo explains his dilemma to him, or maybe a cross between amused and puzzled that just happened to look thoughtful. “That’s great and everything,” Tegoshi starts, slightly uncertain. “But why are you asking me out to eat, then?”
“Because,” Ryo says. “You know him the best out of all of us.”
Tegoshi smiles; one of his smaller, natural, more sincere smiles than the face-eating grins he lets loose on TV. “That may be true. But you do know he doesn’t tell me anything other than what all of us know already?” He pauses. “Well, most of us, apparently. And besides, I’m not just going to let you dig and prod until you find out something new.”
“Why not?” Ryo almost whines.
“Because it’s Massu,” Tegoshi replies, like it should answer Ryo’s question and deflect all subsequent attempts at information digging thereafter.
Ryo finds he can’t argue with it.
Dinner ends up a bust, as the rest of the time is spent letting Tegoshi go on and on about his obvious excitement over the upcoming World Cup, movies that he recently watched and enjoyed, and inevitably, how the Tegomasu tour is progressing. However, if anything salvages the outing at all, it is Tegoshi’s less-than-subtle suggestion to check out one of the remaining dates of their tour.
“Who knows? You might learn something,” Tegoshi says as they loiter outside of the restaurant before going their separate ways. He beams then, bright and somewhat harshly in the dark of the night surrounding them. “Maybe you just need to stop thinking and watch.”
And so Ryo watches. Not a concert, since he’s pretty sure he is all booked up with Kanjani8 activities throughout the rest of their tour, but he does start with Soukon!. He watches it whenever he has a spare moment, copying episodes onto his iPod and watching them on the bullet train and in dressing rooms between photoshoots and interviews. The premise isn’t exactly the most exhilarating thing to have ever hit television, but it gave the fans something to hold on to that was strictly Tegoshi, Koyama, Shige, and Massu. Ryo appreciates the variety show’s existence from the get go because of that reason.
In the grand scheme of things, the show doesn’t actually reveal much about Massu that Ryo doesn’t already know - he knows about Massu’s weakness against heat; how he’s more prone to quick bursts of energy rather than long, drawn out periods of activity; the way he cowers in the face of anything any human being may have a fear of; even how unexpectedly toned Massu’s body is in comparison to the other three - hell, all of them. By the third episode, there’s a niggling in the back of Ryo’s head that’s telling him that this is just a waste of time, but something about Tegoshi’s voice, the way he sounded almost protective of Massu made him keep going.
Things start to change a little when he gets to the episode at the zoo.
There isn’t much different in this episode from the ones before it, but it was the first time Ryo has ever seen Massu willingly reach out and touch one of the other members. Sure, Massu may have done it reflexively considering the tiger looked like it was going to tear his face off, but for as long as he can remember, Massu always gave in to fanservice reluctantly. It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that Shige was the one that Massu clung onto, like that useless nerd could actually be of any help in an ultimate battle against a tiger. Ryo frowns, clicks his TV off, and buries himself underneath the covers, trying his hand at going to sleep.
And anyway, Shige looked a little too pleased for his liking, too.
By the end of the ‘stairs of Tokyo Tower’ segment, Ryo has lost count of the number of times he found himself entranced by the shapeliness of Massu’s legs, the broadness of his shoulders and how slender his arms were; his stomach clenched when Tegoshi, Koyama and Shige forced Massu to peek out the lookdown window when they were on top of the tower. Not because Massu was afraid of heights and it was a pretty awful thing to make him do (Ryo laughed. Go figure.) But because in the grand scuffle, Shige’s hands and Massu’s (albeit nice) behind were a little too well acquainted.
Ryo considers watching all of Soukon! a happy accomplishment, especially when he felt he was being tortured by the cheap humor gods during Koyama’s ‘experiments.’ And because it is a happy accomplishment, he decides that he deserves praise. Naturally, this means being as smug as he can muster, because this Sexy Osakan took the time out of his schedule to watch their crap variety show. Nevermind that it’s been weeks since it ended. It’s the principle of it all, goddamnit.
“Massu,” Ryo says when he first enters the dressing room, hoping his swagger is properly in place.
“Hmm?” Massu wonders, lifting his attention from the men’s fashion magazine in his lap, head tilted to the side as he looks at Ryo with curiosity.
“I watched it. Soukon!, I mean.” Ryo swallows, wondering why his bravado isn’t kicking in on time. “Not all of it or anything. Just. Some of it.”
And then he realizes that even his exaggerated pomposity has no hope of winning against the genuinely pleased smile on Massu’s face right then. “Ah, really? That makes me happy, Nishikido-kun!”
“Heh, well,” Ryo secretly reveled in his tan, as it is surely helping to hide the stupid, traitorous blush forming on his cheeks. “I was just channel surfing most of the time.”
“But,” Massu presses on, smile growing even wider and, fuck, Ryo didn’t think that was even possible. “You stopped and watched, right?”
Ryo pauses, any sort of retort dying on his tongue. “Yeah, well. It’s not a big deal.”
“I think what Ryo-chan is trying to say is,” Tegoshi cuts in, annoyingly chipper and obviously up to something not-so-good. Ryo would’ve shut him up if he wasn’t so startled, as he forgot the rest of the group was even there. “You should let him take you out on a shopping date, Massu.”
No, no, no, that was absolutely not in the plan, because if it was, then he would have to kiss an entire day goodbye, and Ryo hadn’t budgeted for that, not at all, and -
“Really?” The hopeful tone in Massu’s voice makes Ryo inwardly cringe. He stops, vows to make Tegoshi regret this for the rest of his life, and sighs.
“Yeah. What day are you free?”
They meet up on the strip of shops Massu has deemed as his favorite; not surprisingly, a strip Ryo has never found himself on except to walk right on by, and as he takes a closer look at his surroundings, he can see why. The shops are all filled to the brim with color after color, pattern after pattern, weird fedoras and seatbelt belts - stuff right up Massu’s alley. He prepares for the day, though; it takes a lot of mental strengthening.
There is a delicate tap on his shoulder and Ryo whirls around, hoping it isn’t a crazy stalker fan or something. He comes face to face with Massu, noticeably disguise-less. “Where’s your hat?”
“Eh? I never wear one,” Massu shrugs. Ryo notices that he is dressed in a somewhat subdued manner, opting for a nice, subtle beige and a pumpkin bright orange. Ryo would take what he could get.
Besides, the shirt hugs his shoulders in all the right ways, and Ryo quickly fishes for something to say.
“Don’t people notice you?” Ryo asks. Massu chuckles.
“Not really! Or, if they do, no one makes a big deal out of it.” He pauses, smile and dimples making Ryo feel uneasy. “It’s not like I’m you, or Yamashita-kun.”
Ryo pulls his hat down further, trying to cover up his face. “Come on, you’re embarrassing me.”
They begin their trek through the shops-of-ridiculousness on a high note, Massu’s laugh resonating in Ryo’s ears, and for the first time, Ryo finds himself being lead rather than doing the leading. He has no idea what the area has to offer, and between the way Massu zigzags through the crowds and how he mutters to himself about which shops should be having sales, Ryo finds that he doesn’t really mind being taken for the ride. He doesn’t remember the last time he saw Massu looking so relaxed and in his element, if ever, but Massu looks like he belongs in this little corner of Shibuya. It’s a far cry from the awkward, sometimes idol-like man Ryo sees during work.
They first wander through some of the stores that Massu occasionally finds something in, though Ryo has no idea why. “You never know!” Massu answers when Ryo asks as they entered their fifth store with the same status in Massu’s fashion notebook. “One day, they might surprise you, and you’ll find something you absolutely love!”
“What if you end up buying too much and don’t have money for your favorite stores, though?” Ryo presses.
Massu shrugs. “But if they’re your favorite stores, they never let you down. I can skip them and go next week and know I’ll find something, because I always find something. Does that make sense?” He looks up from the rack of hoodies he was rifling through, triumphantly clutching one of the hangers in his hand. “Ah, I think Nishikido-kun would look good in this!”
“…it’s bright pink and yellow plaid.” Ryo deadpans.
Massu laughs. “I guess that’s a big jump. We should start you off slow.” He places the hoodie back on the rack.
For some reason, the headache Ryo was expecting from shopping with Massu never comes, but he figures it’s because he finally sort of understands Massu’s shopping tendencies. Nevertheless, by the seventh store, even though Ryo can appreciate Massu’s love for shopping, he finds his patience wearing thin and his stomach grumbling in protest. Ryo checked his watch and noted that it was almost past dinnertime. Thankfully, Massu seems to get the hint, and he takes them to his favorite okonomiyaki restaurant a few blocks over.
“So you didn’t end up buying anything?” Ryo asks when they sit, noticing the distinct lack of shopping bags in Massu’s hands.
Massu shakes his head. “Maybe not today. Nothing really jumped out at me.”
Ryo still couldn’t quite get why they needed to spend three hours just to conclude that, but all right.
They cook the okonomiyaki together, Ryo a self-proclaimed expert on the way it should taste and the technique during the cooking process, because, after all, he is the Osakan of the bunch. Massu seems more than pleased with just having an input on what he wanted in it, anyway. They banter back and forth, Massu playing into his somewhat airheaded personality, Ryo feeding off it and letting his quick-tongue take over. It’s much less awkward than Ryo had expected.
“Thank you for coming today, Nishikido-kun,” Massu says, beaming happily as they finished eating. “I know you hate shopping with me.”
Maybe it was the unexpectedly good time he was having, or the fact that he was pleased that his okonomiyaki cooking skills were still up to par - and it definitely is not the strong sense of Massu enveloping him - but he finds it really, really hard to try to take back a sentence like, “Maybe I don’t want to hate it.”
But the embarrassment could possibly be worth it if it means the slow smile spreading on Massu’s lips is because of him. Ryo blushes, blames the heat from the stovetop, and gets the check - he’d treat.
They don’t say much more as they take the train together until they inevitably have to split and go different ways. Ryo still has Massu’s smile lingering on his mind when he gets a text message from him, settled on his couch and mindlessly watching TV.
”Thanks again for today! Next time, we’ll do something you like to do! (^з^)-☆”
For the life of him, Ryo has no idea what to do the day he and Massu planned to hang out. Massu wanted to do something that Ryo liked, but truthfully, he just liked being at home. It was why he left the studio immediately whenever they were done with work. So what Ryo planned was going to be simple, easy - something at home.
They order take-out from Ryo’s favorite ramen place down the street and make lots of small talk as they wait for it to get there. Massu pokes and prods at things, clearly interested but never actually asking about what some of the pictures are or what they mean. So Ryo offers the information, telling the other about childhood memories and family vacations and recent birthdays. Massu laughs where he’s supposed to, pays close attention, inspects the picture when instructed to do so, and all in all, he is the picturesque example of what a perfect houseguest should be.
Ryo fans out a few movies on the floor in front of his TV, some rented, some from his own collection, and Massu picks out what they were going to watch as Ryo spread their food out on his coffee table. “I know this isn’t as glamorous as a day in Shibuya, but…” Ryo pushes a bowl of ramen towards Massu as he settles down next to him.
Massu breaks apart his pair of disposable chopsticks with a distinctive crack! and presses play on the DVD remote when the menu appears. “It’s fine!” Ryo watches him shake his head, hair flying in and out of small eyes. “This is very…Nishikido-kun-like.”
Ryo pays little attention to the movie, and even less attention to the next one. It’s quiet this time, with just the two of them and the buzz of the television, and Ryo finds himself lost in his thoughts more often than he’d like. He thinks he might genuinely like Massu, in all his bubbly, awkward self; likes the fact that he is particularly stubborn about things that can define an idol. He’s even somewhat charmed by the gap between Massu’s personality and physique. A few glances out the corner of his eye reveals Massu’s face, happily round eyes small but bright, lashes short but plenty, and Ryo doesn’t even have to look very hard to see that the other man is insanely attractive in his own way. And maybe he’s always thought this, just never took the proper time to really watch and look and notice…
It’s also oddly fitting that Ryo decides to kiss Massu during a comedy; anything else would have left a clichéd feeling in his stomach, rather than the flutter of pleasant butterflies he has now.
Except it’s short, really much too short, and Ryo barely has the time to marvel at how soft Massu’s lips are and curse himself for not putting on chapstick beforehand, but this was spontaneous and unexpected, about as unexpected as Massu kissing him back for a few seconds before pushing Ryo away.
Neither of them say anything, just intent on sitting there and staring at each other wide-eyed. There’s a funny moment in the movie, and Ryo kind of wants to laugh, if just to be able to get the panic settling in his chest out in some way. Massu opens and closes his mouth, then looks down.
“I should probably go.” He gets up and is slipping his shoes on by the time Ryo gets to his feet, and he’s almost completely out the door when Ryo has barely crossed the length of his living room. “…thanks for tonight,” Massu says, then shuts the door behind him as he leaves.
Ryo stops in his tracks and does everything in his power to stop himself from pounding his head against the closest wall.
"I'm sorry," Ryo says into his cell phone a few days later, the silence of Massu's voicemail on the other end. "I'm sorry. Um. Look, I'm...I'm just sorry, all right?" Ryo continues, and when his mind blanks and he can't think of anything else to add that was different from the past two or three voicemails he left already in days past, Ryo flips his phone shut, the click! resounding in its finality. The rain pitter-patters onto his umbrella for the third day straight and he looks up, observes the sky in its dark, gloomy glory as he waits at the crosswalk for the pedestrian light to turn green.
It's not uncommon for rainy days in the summer, but sometimes, Ryo's convinced the clouds won't stay away.
“I just want to know,” Pi says over dinner one night, after another few days go by. “How you managed to get yourself into trouble with Massu, of all people.”
“I’m in trouble?” Ryo asks, head perking up.
Pi sighed. “No, you’re not in trouble. At least, not that I know of. Tegoshi just said that Massu wanted space.”
“Of course he wants space. They always want space,” Ryo grumbles to himself, going back to his food once he deemed that Pi doesn’t have any worthwhile information after all. Not to mention Ryo was angry with Tegoshi, anyway. All of this was technically his fault.
“He doesn’t hate you. Isn’t that something?” Pi suggests.
“I don’t think Massu is actually capable of hating anyone,” Ryo replies. “So…no, that isn’t something.”
Pi steals a few pieces of food off of Ryo’s plate. “Wasn’t this entire thing because you wanted to learn more about Massu? I don’t think you’re the best person to make judgment calls right now.”
“Clearly. For some reason, I asked you to dinner.”
Pi grins. “Touché.”
"So," Ryo says calmly, after successfully shoving four protesting NEWS members out of their dressing room, leaving him alone with Massu, who stood in his meticulously arranged corner, petulantly shifting from one foot to the other.
"So," Massu answers.
"So," Ryo repeats, hands placed firmly on his hips, determined. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."
Massu colors. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Truth be told, not even Ryo knows what he is talking about. All he knows is that when he woke up that morning, he was going to figure things out, if only for his own sanity. It was hard to say, and he'd kill anyone who would try to make him say it, but he hadn't really expected all of this when he first went on his journey to secure some sort of understanding of what Massu's life was like. He hadn't anticipated his heartbeat to gradually begin to pound louder and faster in his ears, or the way his legs felt unsure of their footing whenever he tried to fall in step next to the younger man. He wasn't sure when the sudden urges to smile and giggle when he was around Massu started, either, but he'll throw it into the mix, because Ryo is really, finally pretty certain that it isn't love, but it sure is something. Something along the lines of, "a hell of a lot of like".
"Look, Massu," Ryo begins, taking a step forward. "We're...that is to say, I..."
"Go on,” Massu prompts.
Ryo swallows. “I like you.”
Another pause this time. “…I think I got that a bit ago.”
“And,” Ryo continues, his heartbeat thumping in his ears. “I know you like your privacy and you like to keep your private friends and family and everything separate from work, but. But, maybe, do you think, this time, you could try letting me in?”
When Massu smiles, Ryo lets out a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Nishikido-kun, I let you in the day you went shopping with me.”
A week goes by and it’s as if nothing changed, so normal that it seems like Ryo and Massu just went back to being how they were before the past month or so. Ryo supposes he’s okay with it - he doesn't see much choice in the matter.
But one day, Massu invites him in a single-sentenced text message to hang out during the weekend. With Massu, and Massu's friends.
Ryo waits ten minutes to text back a, "Yeah, sure," to try and not seem too desperate, but it feels like forever and the smiley emoji he stuck on at the end probably gives it away, anyway.
That weekend, he wears a certain bright pink and yellow plaid hoodie. It really doesn't look so bad, after all.
Poll Team Present