One-Shot : Dance
Title - Dance
Author - YumeMie (Real Dream 112)
Words - 1074
Rating - PG13
Pairing - Tegopi
Summary - Tegoshi dances. Yamapi watches.
This is just a short OS that I wrote on a whim at 4am. Ah, tegopi~
Again, many thanks to my dear pinklunacy for betaing! I don't know what I would do without her ♥
~*~
Tegoshi has never been alone in a studio at past midnight in the Johnny’s jimusho before, but he tries to ignore the tickling of the clock and to concentrate on the dance, because he’s not leaving until he can do every step in his sleep.
The mirror glares back at him when he messes up for the umpteenth time. His arms fall by his side, and he wipes his damp forehead with his shirt, hair stucking to his pale face.
‘I can’t do this,’’ he murmurs weakly, but he goes to start the music again, nearly jumping out of his skin when the door opens.
‘’You scared the hell out of me,’’ Tegoshi shrieks, and Yamapi can’t help but laugh at his startled face.
‘’Not funny,’’ Tegoshi warns him, even though it’s Yamapi, because he’s been practicing for nearly three hours and he itches to strangle someone - anyone.
‘’You’re here ’til late, hun?’’ the leader points out, which Tegoshi absolutely doesn’t need.
‘’What are you doing here, anyway?’’ he asks, trying to swallow back his bad mood.
‘’I came to discuss some things about my schedule with Johnny-san.’’
‘’This late?’’
Yamapi hunhuns, dumps his bag on a chair.
Tegoshi presses the play button, and the first notes fill the studio.
His leader sits down against a wall, and his presence doesn’t help Tegoshi to concentrate at all. He catches his glance, begins to dance.
His dancing doesn’t embarrass him anymore. He’s learned to move his body the right way, has learned to make the rhythm his. But Yamapi is sitting a few feet from him, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, and Tegoshi is more conscious of himself than he’s been in years. It reminds him of the time when he was trying so hard to get his attention, to only be seen.
Of the time when he wasn’t even acknowledged by his own leader.
1-2-3-4-5-6
He’s not sure that he should have rolled his hips there, but now he’s far too tired to be mad at himself.
‘’I give up,’’ he sighs, slumping down beside Yamapi, his clothes like a second skin.
He closes his eyes, and the script of tomorrow’s Yamanade’s episode unfolds behind his eyelids.
‘’Can’t get it right?’’
Yamapi’s deep voice is soothing. Tegoshi nods.
‘’Need a little help?’’
Tegoshi cracks an eye open, nods again. ‘’I don’t even remember the latter half of the choreography.’’
Yamapi chuckles a little, but Tegoshi doesn’t feel hurt by it.
It’s comforting, knowing that he can make Yamapi laugh.
He watches him take off his coat, black locks brushing against his cheeks. He gives his leader some time to warm up, then joins him in front of the glass wall.
‘’Just watch for now,’’ Yamapi says, locking their eyes through the mirror, ‘’You’ll remember it in no time.’’
And Tegoshi watches, watches the soft lines of his shoulder blades move under his dark shirt, watches his fingers, always gracious even in a fast dance, watches his brows furrowed in concentration.
He realizes he knows him by heart, because he’s been watching him since he was fifteen years old.
Yamapi’s boots squeak against the clean floor, and he likes that sound.
An hour later they’re both breathing hard and Tegoshi has to be at the drama’s set in a few hours, but the touch of his leader’s hands on his hips and arms lingers in his mind like sunlight on his skin.
When they shower, Tegoshi touches Yamapi’s shoulder gently, grabs a few wet strands of hair between his fingers. Yamapi turns his head slowly to glance at him, then smiles knowingly. He passes him the shampoo bottle.
‘’Don’t get soap into my eyes.’’
Tegoshi massages his head carefully, follows from the corner of his eyes a foaming trail, down his back and along the fine line of his ass.
‘’Mmm mmm…’’
When it’s Yamapi’s turn to wash his hair, Tegoshi closes his eyes, leans a little against him.
Member-ai, he tells himself.
***
It’s the second time that Tegoshi is alone in a studio at past midnight in the Johnny’s jimusho.
He knows the choreography by heart now, because he’s been practicing it all week. At the group practice which ended a few hours ago, he didn’t hold everyone back, and Ryo even ruffled his hair - something he hadn’t done in months.
He moves easily now, his body leaning against the music, playing with it. He’s confident; he’ll be ready for the filming of their pv.
When Yamapi walks in, Tegoshi misses a beat. He pulls himself together, imagines hands on his hips and arms. His body dances on its own.
Yamapi does just like he did a few nights ago: he drops his bag on a chair, sits against the wall.
They don’t speak. Yamapi watches Tegoshi dance until there’s no music anymore, only the familiar tickling of the clock. Tegoshi likes it. It’s a reminder of the time that passes only for the two of them.
They shower.
‘’I didn’t get to on Code Blue’s set,’’ Yamapi explains when he steps in after Tegoshi.
Tegoshi leans against him when Yamapi washes his hair. Just like a few nights ago.
This time there are light fingers dancing across his bare stomach, secret longings spoken through fingertips.
When they turn off the water, Tegoshi averts his eyes, doesn’t want Yamapi to read into them.
Too much member-ai to see, Tegoshi fears.
* * *
It’s the first time that he’s in a parking lot with Yamapi at the break of dawn.
There’s no squeak of boots against the dance floor, no tickling of the clock.
But Tegoshi likes it all the same. There’s a sunset in front of his eyes, and the man he loves by his side.
Yamapi just kissed him in the elevator, slow and steady, like he’d given it some thoughts before.
He’s still holding his hand.
***
The third time he will be in a studio at past midnight in the Johnny’s jimusho will be on Yamapi’s birthday.
‘’I just want a dance,’’ he will say, and Tegoshi will accept it just like that, because Yamapi is selfish in his own way.
There will be no music, no choreography. Only their heart against each other’s.
‘’This isn’t really a dance,’’ Tegoshi will complain, but Yamapi will only smile.
They don’t need music, they had their own.
They don’t need any choreography, for they had been dancing all along.
Author - YumeMie (Real Dream 112)
Words - 1074
Rating - PG13
Pairing - Tegopi
Summary - Tegoshi dances. Yamapi watches.
This is just a short OS that I wrote on a whim at 4am. Ah, tegopi~
Again, many thanks to my dear pinklunacy for betaing! I don't know what I would do without her ♥
~*~
Tegoshi has never been alone in a studio at past midnight in the Johnny’s jimusho before, but he tries to ignore the tickling of the clock and to concentrate on the dance, because he’s not leaving until he can do every step in his sleep.
The mirror glares back at him when he messes up for the umpteenth time. His arms fall by his side, and he wipes his damp forehead with his shirt, hair stucking to his pale face.
‘I can’t do this,’’ he murmurs weakly, but he goes to start the music again, nearly jumping out of his skin when the door opens.
‘’You scared the hell out of me,’’ Tegoshi shrieks, and Yamapi can’t help but laugh at his startled face.
‘’Not funny,’’ Tegoshi warns him, even though it’s Yamapi, because he’s been practicing for nearly three hours and he itches to strangle someone - anyone.
‘’You’re here ’til late, hun?’’ the leader points out, which Tegoshi absolutely doesn’t need.
‘’What are you doing here, anyway?’’ he asks, trying to swallow back his bad mood.
‘’I came to discuss some things about my schedule with Johnny-san.’’
‘’This late?’’
Yamapi hunhuns, dumps his bag on a chair.
Tegoshi presses the play button, and the first notes fill the studio.
His leader sits down against a wall, and his presence doesn’t help Tegoshi to concentrate at all. He catches his glance, begins to dance.
His dancing doesn’t embarrass him anymore. He’s learned to move his body the right way, has learned to make the rhythm his. But Yamapi is sitting a few feet from him, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, and Tegoshi is more conscious of himself than he’s been in years. It reminds him of the time when he was trying so hard to get his attention, to only be seen.
Of the time when he wasn’t even acknowledged by his own leader.
1-2-3-4-5-6
He’s not sure that he should have rolled his hips there, but now he’s far too tired to be mad at himself.
‘’I give up,’’ he sighs, slumping down beside Yamapi, his clothes like a second skin.
He closes his eyes, and the script of tomorrow’s Yamanade’s episode unfolds behind his eyelids.
‘’Can’t get it right?’’
Yamapi’s deep voice is soothing. Tegoshi nods.
‘’Need a little help?’’
Tegoshi cracks an eye open, nods again. ‘’I don’t even remember the latter half of the choreography.’’
Yamapi chuckles a little, but Tegoshi doesn’t feel hurt by it.
It’s comforting, knowing that he can make Yamapi laugh.
He watches him take off his coat, black locks brushing against his cheeks. He gives his leader some time to warm up, then joins him in front of the glass wall.
‘’Just watch for now,’’ Yamapi says, locking their eyes through the mirror, ‘’You’ll remember it in no time.’’
And Tegoshi watches, watches the soft lines of his shoulder blades move under his dark shirt, watches his fingers, always gracious even in a fast dance, watches his brows furrowed in concentration.
He realizes he knows him by heart, because he’s been watching him since he was fifteen years old.
Yamapi’s boots squeak against the clean floor, and he likes that sound.
An hour later they’re both breathing hard and Tegoshi has to be at the drama’s set in a few hours, but the touch of his leader’s hands on his hips and arms lingers in his mind like sunlight on his skin.
When they shower, Tegoshi touches Yamapi’s shoulder gently, grabs a few wet strands of hair between his fingers. Yamapi turns his head slowly to glance at him, then smiles knowingly. He passes him the shampoo bottle.
‘’Don’t get soap into my eyes.’’
Tegoshi massages his head carefully, follows from the corner of his eyes a foaming trail, down his back and along the fine line of his ass.
‘’Mmm mmm…’’
When it’s Yamapi’s turn to wash his hair, Tegoshi closes his eyes, leans a little against him.
Member-ai, he tells himself.
***
It’s the second time that Tegoshi is alone in a studio at past midnight in the Johnny’s jimusho.
He knows the choreography by heart now, because he’s been practicing it all week. At the group practice which ended a few hours ago, he didn’t hold everyone back, and Ryo even ruffled his hair - something he hadn’t done in months.
He moves easily now, his body leaning against the music, playing with it. He’s confident; he’ll be ready for the filming of their pv.
When Yamapi walks in, Tegoshi misses a beat. He pulls himself together, imagines hands on his hips and arms. His body dances on its own.
Yamapi does just like he did a few nights ago: he drops his bag on a chair, sits against the wall.
They don’t speak. Yamapi watches Tegoshi dance until there’s no music anymore, only the familiar tickling of the clock. Tegoshi likes it. It’s a reminder of the time that passes only for the two of them.
They shower.
‘’I didn’t get to on Code Blue’s set,’’ Yamapi explains when he steps in after Tegoshi.
Tegoshi leans against him when Yamapi washes his hair. Just like a few nights ago.
This time there are light fingers dancing across his bare stomach, secret longings spoken through fingertips.
When they turn off the water, Tegoshi averts his eyes, doesn’t want Yamapi to read into them.
Too much member-ai to see, Tegoshi fears.
* * *
It’s the first time that he’s in a parking lot with Yamapi at the break of dawn.
There’s no squeak of boots against the dance floor, no tickling of the clock.
But Tegoshi likes it all the same. There’s a sunset in front of his eyes, and the man he loves by his side.
Yamapi just kissed him in the elevator, slow and steady, like he’d given it some thoughts before.
He’s still holding his hand.
***
The third time he will be in a studio at past midnight in the Johnny’s jimusho will be on Yamapi’s birthday.
‘’I just want a dance,’’ he will say, and Tegoshi will accept it just like that, because Yamapi is selfish in his own way.
There will be no music, no choreography. Only their heart against each other’s.
‘’This isn’t really a dance,’’ Tegoshi will complain, but Yamapi will only smile.
They don’t need music, they had their own.
They don’t need any choreography, for they had been dancing all along.