[Tomapi Fic] Changes
Disclaimer: This writing is fictional and has no commercial purpose. Characters are real persons belonging to themselves.
Pairing: Tomapi
Genre: Drama, romance
Rating: PG for shounen-ai bits
Credits: Set around "Seventeen" Aug 2007 interview (nothing to do with the content itself, though). I've taken liberties regarding situations relevant to the actual event.
Thanks to Helen for the translation that inspired this, and for beta-ing. This fic is also posted on her Hanbun site, though I've done more minor edits here.
---
Changes
The interview ended later than scheduled, but Yamapi lingered anyway, watching the ever amiable Toma chatting up the crew as they were packing up, listening to Toma's cheerful voice, Toma's loud laughter.
His lips curled up. Toma hadn't changed.
He thought back to the interview, how words and banter had come so easily as if no years had been lost, how posing close together for the camera had felt so natural as if nothing had changed between them.
A lot had changed between them, surely. A lot had changed since his debut, though Yamapi had long learned not to blame it on anyone. Without NEWS, there were still Hasejun and Kazama, there were still all the other Juniors, each of whom would have made impacts on their relationship one way or another.
A lot too had changed inside him, as he got over the separation, as he watched Toma continue to grow the way he might have whether Yamapi had stayed or not. That was when he knew Toma had gotten over it, faster than Yamapi had, though none the easier. Between the two of them Toma had always been the one to focus on the things to do, responsibilities to shoulder.
He wondered at the contradiction that was Toma: the carefree, hyperactive boy with a mother-hen attitude, the senpai who wouldn't let anyone use polite speech to him but liked to fuss over them and solve their problems for them.
Yamapi suspected that it wasn't simply being nice; it was a complex. They had grown close enough not to bother being 'nice' to each other anymore, and still Toma acted the same -- only worse. Takki had been protective, but Toma had practically wormed himself into Yamapi's skin, checking on things that happened in school and at home when they weren't together, looking out for Yamapi and planning things for Yamapi like his own life depended on it; yet God knew Yamapi had clung to it very very happily.
He had much pride in Toma back then, knowing how the boy was loved by many; a little bit of jealousy once in a while, and so despite his shyness he'd made great efforts to befriend Toma's friends, to enter any circle that Toma was in, feeling secure in the fact that Toma too had always tried to include him.
That of course had changed, too. They had had many conversations after the debut -- conversations during which he'd detected moments of hesitance, Toma stopping himself in the middle of what was shaping up to be a nag, Toma consciously letting go of what the JE boys called the invisible fibers attaching their limbs together, careful not to tie Yamapi up, not to hinder him from standing up on his own.
At that time he'd wished Toma had been more selfish, because his insecure self would think too much of the seeming indifference. He'd felt abandoned, and then felt guilty for thinking it, because Toma had been the one left behind. Practices started and he couldn't stay out, the pressure heavier than before as he and Toma had sometimes talked about, and in the first few months he kept imagining numerous conversations with Toma in which they would talk excitedly of how things were similar or different than what they had thought.
He had had to move on, and he finally did. JE's tough trainings all this while helped; late-night phone conversations with Takki helped; and looking back, it was perhaps the best help Toma could offer by taking that distance from him.
"Yamashita."
He looked up and saw Toma's smile. The magazine crew bowed from the distance, taking their leave. He smiled back. "Hey."
"Want to go for ramen?"
Food. He laughed. This had not changed either. "Didn't we just have lunch?"
Toma stretched. "Maa, but the interview was quite draining."
He smiled and stood up. "Sure, let's go. There's a new noodle shop near my place, shall we try it out?"
--
There had always been one advantage of Toma being a big eater *and* a talkative guy: he finished his food much later than Yamapi, the time that Yamapi would spend with chin on hand, watching him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Toma said, putting down his second bowl.
Yamapi shifted his glance from Toma's face to the noodles. "You're not finishing that?"
"Eh, I'm full," Toma said sheepishly.
"Jaa, I'm taking it," Yamapi said, and took over the bowl without waiting for Toma's answer.
Toma stared at him for a moment, before breaking out in laughter. "You haven't changed."
Yamapi made a face at him. "You'd really waste food when I'm not around, huh?"
Toma scratched his head, and Yamapi hid a smile. It was Toma's turn to watch him as he cleared the food, unexpectedly quiet. Just for that, Yamapi took his time eating, but the bowl was empty at last. "Let's go?" he said, and cleared the bill before Toma could get to it.
"Are you walking home?" Toma asked, as they walked out of the noodle shop.
"Uh-uh," Yamapi nodded. "It's a short distance."
They continued to walk together, but for all the years that they'd never walked each other home, Yamapi knew it was only for the reluctance to end the reunion; so he steered their walk the long way around, sure that Toma wouldn't notice.
"Is it this way?" Toma followed his sudden turn.
"Oh, this way we'll pass the bus stop," Yamapi quickly replied. "There's a bus that goes to your street. It's more convenient than taking the train."
"Ah, thanks," Toma replied, grinning. "You know, for all the times you used to tease me for being a mother hen, you seem to be on your way to become one, too."
Yamapi laughed and punched Toma's shoulder.
"It seems that being a leader suits you," Toma continued. "You're much more decisive now, taking initiatives and all that."
He had the look of a father proud of his son, and Yamapi grinned. "And talk more? As you and Kazapon always told me to."
Toma's eyes twinkled at the memories. "We did, didn't we?"
Yamapi turned his gaze to the night sky. "You know... that time away from each other, I'm glad we had it."
He turned back to watch Toma's reaction. Toma looked at him uncertainly, then started to open his mouth; but Yamapi had read the flicker in his eyes, and continued, "It gave me a chance to grow out of your shadow."
And that was probably more than a little hurt. Toma's lips closed, and he was silent for a long while.
"It had to happen," Toma said finally, his tone carefully neutral.
Toma wasn't grinning as he normally would to lighten up the mood whenever uncomfortable past came up; this was a serious matter to him. And Yamapi smiled, because all those indicated to him exactly what he wanted to see.
Toma had changed, certainly, his childlike maturity in the past transforming into proper adulthood even as he continued to joke and play pranks on his friends. But he'd always been straight at heart, and his growth had more or less followed the path Yamapi predicted; inside the young man was the consistent, reliable personality Yamapi had clung onto as a boy.
Yamapi on the other hand...
"Why do you think I suggested the interview?"
"Eh?" Toma looked at him in confusion.
Yamapi smiled cannily, stopping to sit down on a bench at the roadside.
"To make time for us to catch up?" Toma ventured. "Speaking of which, thanks for that, really. I'm sorry I've been busy with the butai..."
Yamapi patted the spot beside him, and Toma sat down obligingly.
"That is," Yamapi said, "after I finally grow enough confidence, I need to face you properly."
Toma was quiet again, undoubtedly remembering Yamapi's earlier remark about growing out of his shadow.
"It went very well, didn't it? The interview," Yamapi said. "We had a great time reminiscing." And he shifted closer ever so casually.
"Ah, definitely," Toma said, looking momentarily relieved, and he habitually leaned over to drape an arm over Yamapi's shoulders.
Yamapi smiled, turning his face towards Toma that their temples almost touched, yet careful not to bump him so Toma wouldn't have an excuse to pull away. "If we had stayed as before, all through these years, I doubt *this* would ever happen."
The tone of his voice, refined over many acting roles, was impossible not to be interpreted correctly.
"Yama--" Toma managed, and Yamapi could tell he was holding back a nervous gulp.
"For all your spontaneity, you're too guileless to even think of making the move, while I would not have learned to make it."
Oh, indeed. He could've been dropping those babyish hints forever, and he had really thought they would stay together long enough for Toma to catch on and act on them.
"Uh, what--" Toma started, and Yamapi answered the question before Toma could finish asking it, the answer being his arms trapping Toma on the bench, his face covering Toma's wide-eyed vision in an instant, his lips descending fast on Toma's gaping ones.
By the time they had to disentangle their tongues to breathe, Toma's hands had found their way around Yamapi's waist and made themselves comfortable there. That touchy-feely habit of his had not changed either; but the way he pulled Yamapi crashing back onto him was definitely new.
---
Pairing: Tomapi
Genre: Drama, romance
Rating: PG for shounen-ai bits
Credits: Set around "Seventeen" Aug 2007 interview (nothing to do with the content itself, though). I've taken liberties regarding situations relevant to the actual event.
Thanks to Helen for the translation that inspired this, and for beta-ing. This fic is also posted on her Hanbun site, though I've done more minor edits here.
---
Changes
The interview ended later than scheduled, but Yamapi lingered anyway, watching the ever amiable Toma chatting up the crew as they were packing up, listening to Toma's cheerful voice, Toma's loud laughter.
His lips curled up. Toma hadn't changed.
He thought back to the interview, how words and banter had come so easily as if no years had been lost, how posing close together for the camera had felt so natural as if nothing had changed between them.
A lot had changed between them, surely. A lot had changed since his debut, though Yamapi had long learned not to blame it on anyone. Without NEWS, there were still Hasejun and Kazama, there were still all the other Juniors, each of whom would have made impacts on their relationship one way or another.
A lot too had changed inside him, as he got over the separation, as he watched Toma continue to grow the way he might have whether Yamapi had stayed or not. That was when he knew Toma had gotten over it, faster than Yamapi had, though none the easier. Between the two of them Toma had always been the one to focus on the things to do, responsibilities to shoulder.
He wondered at the contradiction that was Toma: the carefree, hyperactive boy with a mother-hen attitude, the senpai who wouldn't let anyone use polite speech to him but liked to fuss over them and solve their problems for them.
Yamapi suspected that it wasn't simply being nice; it was a complex. They had grown close enough not to bother being 'nice' to each other anymore, and still Toma acted the same -- only worse. Takki had been protective, but Toma had practically wormed himself into Yamapi's skin, checking on things that happened in school and at home when they weren't together, looking out for Yamapi and planning things for Yamapi like his own life depended on it; yet God knew Yamapi had clung to it very very happily.
He had much pride in Toma back then, knowing how the boy was loved by many; a little bit of jealousy once in a while, and so despite his shyness he'd made great efforts to befriend Toma's friends, to enter any circle that Toma was in, feeling secure in the fact that Toma too had always tried to include him.
That of course had changed, too. They had had many conversations after the debut -- conversations during which he'd detected moments of hesitance, Toma stopping himself in the middle of what was shaping up to be a nag, Toma consciously letting go of what the JE boys called the invisible fibers attaching their limbs together, careful not to tie Yamapi up, not to hinder him from standing up on his own.
At that time he'd wished Toma had been more selfish, because his insecure self would think too much of the seeming indifference. He'd felt abandoned, and then felt guilty for thinking it, because Toma had been the one left behind. Practices started and he couldn't stay out, the pressure heavier than before as he and Toma had sometimes talked about, and in the first few months he kept imagining numerous conversations with Toma in which they would talk excitedly of how things were similar or different than what they had thought.
He had had to move on, and he finally did. JE's tough trainings all this while helped; late-night phone conversations with Takki helped; and looking back, it was perhaps the best help Toma could offer by taking that distance from him.
"Yamashita."
He looked up and saw Toma's smile. The magazine crew bowed from the distance, taking their leave. He smiled back. "Hey."
"Want to go for ramen?"
Food. He laughed. This had not changed either. "Didn't we just have lunch?"
Toma stretched. "Maa, but the interview was quite draining."
He smiled and stood up. "Sure, let's go. There's a new noodle shop near my place, shall we try it out?"
--
There had always been one advantage of Toma being a big eater *and* a talkative guy: he finished his food much later than Yamapi, the time that Yamapi would spend with chin on hand, watching him.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Toma said, putting down his second bowl.
Yamapi shifted his glance from Toma's face to the noodles. "You're not finishing that?"
"Eh, I'm full," Toma said sheepishly.
"Jaa, I'm taking it," Yamapi said, and took over the bowl without waiting for Toma's answer.
Toma stared at him for a moment, before breaking out in laughter. "You haven't changed."
Yamapi made a face at him. "You'd really waste food when I'm not around, huh?"
Toma scratched his head, and Yamapi hid a smile. It was Toma's turn to watch him as he cleared the food, unexpectedly quiet. Just for that, Yamapi took his time eating, but the bowl was empty at last. "Let's go?" he said, and cleared the bill before Toma could get to it.
"Are you walking home?" Toma asked, as they walked out of the noodle shop.
"Uh-uh," Yamapi nodded. "It's a short distance."
They continued to walk together, but for all the years that they'd never walked each other home, Yamapi knew it was only for the reluctance to end the reunion; so he steered their walk the long way around, sure that Toma wouldn't notice.
"Is it this way?" Toma followed his sudden turn.
"Oh, this way we'll pass the bus stop," Yamapi quickly replied. "There's a bus that goes to your street. It's more convenient than taking the train."
"Ah, thanks," Toma replied, grinning. "You know, for all the times you used to tease me for being a mother hen, you seem to be on your way to become one, too."
Yamapi laughed and punched Toma's shoulder.
"It seems that being a leader suits you," Toma continued. "You're much more decisive now, taking initiatives and all that."
He had the look of a father proud of his son, and Yamapi grinned. "And talk more? As you and Kazapon always told me to."
Toma's eyes twinkled at the memories. "We did, didn't we?"
Yamapi turned his gaze to the night sky. "You know... that time away from each other, I'm glad we had it."
He turned back to watch Toma's reaction. Toma looked at him uncertainly, then started to open his mouth; but Yamapi had read the flicker in his eyes, and continued, "It gave me a chance to grow out of your shadow."
And that was probably more than a little hurt. Toma's lips closed, and he was silent for a long while.
"It had to happen," Toma said finally, his tone carefully neutral.
Toma wasn't grinning as he normally would to lighten up the mood whenever uncomfortable past came up; this was a serious matter to him. And Yamapi smiled, because all those indicated to him exactly what he wanted to see.
Toma had changed, certainly, his childlike maturity in the past transforming into proper adulthood even as he continued to joke and play pranks on his friends. But he'd always been straight at heart, and his growth had more or less followed the path Yamapi predicted; inside the young man was the consistent, reliable personality Yamapi had clung onto as a boy.
Yamapi on the other hand...
"Why do you think I suggested the interview?"
"Eh?" Toma looked at him in confusion.
Yamapi smiled cannily, stopping to sit down on a bench at the roadside.
"To make time for us to catch up?" Toma ventured. "Speaking of which, thanks for that, really. I'm sorry I've been busy with the butai..."
Yamapi patted the spot beside him, and Toma sat down obligingly.
"That is," Yamapi said, "after I finally grow enough confidence, I need to face you properly."
Toma was quiet again, undoubtedly remembering Yamapi's earlier remark about growing out of his shadow.
"It went very well, didn't it? The interview," Yamapi said. "We had a great time reminiscing." And he shifted closer ever so casually.
"Ah, definitely," Toma said, looking momentarily relieved, and he habitually leaned over to drape an arm over Yamapi's shoulders.
Yamapi smiled, turning his face towards Toma that their temples almost touched, yet careful not to bump him so Toma wouldn't have an excuse to pull away. "If we had stayed as before, all through these years, I doubt *this* would ever happen."
The tone of his voice, refined over many acting roles, was impossible not to be interpreted correctly.
"Yama--" Toma managed, and Yamapi could tell he was holding back a nervous gulp.
"For all your spontaneity, you're too guileless to even think of making the move, while I would not have learned to make it."
Oh, indeed. He could've been dropping those babyish hints forever, and he had really thought they would stay together long enough for Toma to catch on and act on them.
"Uh, what--" Toma started, and Yamapi answered the question before Toma could finish asking it, the answer being his arms trapping Toma on the bench, his face covering Toma's wide-eyed vision in an instant, his lips descending fast on Toma's gaping ones.
By the time they had to disentangle their tongues to breathe, Toma's hands had found their way around Yamapi's waist and made themselves comfortable there. That touchy-feely habit of his had not changed either; but the way he pulled Yamapi crashing back onto him was definitely new.
---