(no subject)
Title: FYI
Pairing/Group: Junno/Kame (KameNo), KAT-TUN
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 10.7k
Warnings: Some KAT-TUN members may have become permanently scarred... oops.
Notes: This fic was co-written with the lovely krysyuy ♥, the other half of Team PBnJ, for the 2013 DOA fic challenge. The original post can be found here. Our chosen prompt was fragrance.
Summary: For Kame, keeping a secret (boyfriend) has never been so frustratingly easy, especially with group members as dense as his.
“If you dated one of the members, who would it least likely be?”
With Junno’s attention on his PSP, the question Koki reads aloud barely grazes his consciousness. It’s nothing they haven’t heard variations of before. There’s a mutter, then a sigh, but it’s only after Junno defeats the boss character with a triumphant shout that he realizes his fellow group members are all looking at him.
Junno beams back at them, not ruffled in the slightest and still high from his digital victory.
This starts another round of sighs and mutters-“yes, definitely him”-to which Junno only shrugs. He goes about making sure to save his game properly when he feels one stare in particular boring into his skull. It’s very familiar, one he is even fond of, so when he lifts his head to see Kazuya’s scowl, he has no problem whatsoever returning it with an easy smile of his own.
If anything, the annoyance only deepens in the man sitting across the table from him. Junno can only wonder what Kazuya is up in arms about this time.
“So we can all agree that we would least likely date this guy here,” Koki says, jabbing a thumb in Junno’s direction.
“Eh?” Junno looks over at Koki, who is seated next to him, and grins. “But I’d be an awesome boyfriend.”
Nakamaru grimaces. “I’d rather not imagine any of you in that context, thank you very much,” he says.
“But since we have to-” Koki waves around the set of interview prep questions he had been reading from, “-you, Taguchi, are the winner.”
“Unanimous then?” He tries very hard not to glance across the table, knowing how tenuous a grip he has on keeping his laughter contained.
“Duh.” There’s that sparkle of mischief in Koki’s eye that lets Junno know it’s all in good fun. Well, most of it at least. Junno is sure there’s truth mixed in there somewhere and he doesn’t mind. Different strokes for different folks and all that. Besides, why care when he’s already dating the person whose opinion matters the most to him?
“Though,” Koki muses thoughtfully, “it’s probably true the most for Kame.”
Junno bites his lip. He’s proud when his voice comes out with only a small tremor of repressed amusement as he says, “Oh?”
“The opposite is true too,” Koki goes on. Ueda looks extremely bored at his end of the table as he scribbles into his well-worn notebook of half-finished music and lyrics, while Nakamaru has his head in his hands as if he can’t believe they’re still discussing their current topic. “You would least likely date Kame.”
“Excuse me?”
Junno finally turns back around and one glance lets him know that Kazuya’s mood has not improved in the slightest. Koki also takes note of their bandmate’s furrowed eyebrows, turned down in displeasure.
“No worries, Kame-chan! I would totally date you,” Koki says with a grin. “Taguchi here just wouldn’t mesh well with you. I mean, seriously, can you imagine it? Right, Yucchi?”
Nakamaru looks pained as if burdened with a huge headache, but responds anyway. “Yeah, like oil and water. Not enough in common. You’d get on each other’s nerves.”
There’s a tick in Kazuya’s cheek, which is not a good sign for things to come, but before he can open his mouth, there’s a knock at the door and a haggard assistant peeks her head in.
“Excuse me, but we’re ready for Tanaka-san, Nakamaru-san and Ueda-san’s group photo shoot.”
Koki gets up cheerfully. “Roger!” On his way out the door, he calls out over his shoulder. “Try not to kill each other while we’re gone!”
Nakamaru sighs and Junno is pretty sure Ueda is rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses as they follow Koki and the assistant. When the door clicks closed behind them, the room is plunged into silence. Then Junno locks eyes with Kazuya and the laughter he had been holding in comes pouring out in wheezes and shaking shoulders.
“What’s so funny?” Kazuya snaps.
“The irony was killing me,” Junno gasps. Kazuya’s stare continues to be frightfully chilly, for some reason much more so with his black-rimmed glasses, and Junno manages to get his mirth under control. “What’s wrong?”
“Well apparently, we don’t suit each other at all,” Kazuya says, thoroughly displeased.
Contrary to popular belief, Junno is rather good at reading between the lines. It just depends on the subject matter. Kazuya is one he is well versed in. He grasps the source of the storming emotions brewing in the other man, and a certain kind of tenderness wells up inside. He stands and circles around as Kazuya continues.
“Is it just so impossible that we could be together?” Kazuya glowers at nothing in particular, though Junno assumes their absent group members are being pictured in the shorter man’s head.
Junno comes to a stop and sits on the edge of the table in front of him. “Kazuya,” he prompts gently. He reaches out to smooth over the creases in his forehead, as he wanted to do earlier. The change is subtle, Kazuya’s muscles relaxing, and then leaning into Junno’s touch just so. The frown is still there, but now soft around the edges.
Junno smiles. “Doesn’t this work in our favor?” he points out. “We wanted to keep this a secret. It’s a good thing they think we’re impossible.”
Kazuya pulls away from him. “Yeah, whatever.”
Junno watches as Kazuya’s frown shifts to a rather sulky pout, and he can’t help but laugh again. He snags Kazuya by the arm and kisses the inside of his wrist, delighted when the pout turns into a blush.
His boyfriend is adorable.
-
After watching the clip of a large crowd shouting and raising bamboo poles, Kame and the others are asked what the crowd is up to. He has no earthly idea what that could be but, recalling the length of the poles, is reminded of a certain sport. He scribbles his answer on the board the staff had handed over even though it’s a guess in the dark and he’s still rather baffled.
The atmosphere is so relaxed, as it usually is whenever they interact with Perfume, that Kame barely takes note of the cameras pointed at them. Kame appreciates how genuine all three women are. Plus he could see his younger self trying to flip their skirts.
But he’s long since moved on from such things and all he does now is flip the board over when they ask him to. Nocchi reads his answer, and then looks behind him and smiles. “It seems you and Taguchi-kun are in sync,” she comments.
Hmm? Kame turns around to see that Taguchi has written ‘pole vault’ as well in his large script, complete with stick figure pictures. Torn between exasperated and amused, he exchanges a quick smile with his boyfriend whose face brightens in response. Their thoughts always seem to circle around the same things when he least expects it.
Kame abruptly remembers where they are and turns back to the front as casually as possible. He flips his board back over and says, “Ah wait, I’m sorry. Can we cut right now? I don’t want to be the same as Taguchi.”
As expected, it prompts laughs from around the room. Kame chuckles as he takes another peek at Taguchi who is laughing along with everyone else.
Not a single strand of her long hair is out of place when Kashiyuka tilts her head to the side. “So, using the bamboo they’re holding to do a pole vault,” she says, trying to figure out their reasoning.
“That’s not going to work,” Ueda comments from his seat behind Kame.
“Well, well, you never know…” Taguchi replies.
Kame, however, is onto him. He turns in his seat so he has an easy view of the other four. “You were just confused, right,” he says, pointing at him.
“I was,” Taguchi admits without difficulty. He’s never one to go beating around the bush. It’s something that Kame both resents and admires him for.
“Me too…” Kame replies with a pained wince, pretending to be depressed. “We’re the same, huh. Taguchi-san and I.” A small part of him is way too pleased at the thought.
“You were confused?” Ueda asks.
“I was,” Kame says somewhat sheepishly.
“It’s fine if I’m the only one ever confused here,” Taguchi pipes up, gesturing to their whole group, though his gaze lingers on Kame a second longer than necessary.
Kame bursts out laughing along with everyone else and he has to cover his mouth to hide his involuntary grin. His cheeks feel a bit hot, as they tend to do whenever Taguchi teases him. Only Taguchi can be both self-deprecating while jokingly critical of Kame at the same time. Kame is totally going to get back at him for that later.
“You have such good chemistry.”
Kame whips around to see all the Perfume members nodding along to the male host’s observation. Nocchi’s chin-length bob bounces with the movement as she regards him and Taguchi with a speculative eye. Did he accidentally give something away? His defensive walls shoot up instinctively-no one can find out!-and he’s ready to grimace and make some comment at Taguchi’s expense, which would be more par for the course.
“Eh, why do you say that?” Koki’s voice emerges from the other side of Nakamaru, the question directed at their hosts.
Perfectly poised in her red dress with black polka dot sleeves, A-chan looks between Kame and Taguchi. “It’s a feeling,” she says. “Like they get along really well.”
Koki snorts. “I’m not so sure about that,” he replies, tone suggesting he’s the authority on their relationship. Only Kame’s many years in the business keep his eyebrow from twitching.
“Kame tends to have chemistry with everyone,” Nakamaru comments in a matter-of-fact tone. “He can just bring that out, even if they’re actually really incompatible in private.”
Kame had been gearing up to say similar things himself, but now all he feels is irritation chafing at him. Memories of the other day in the dressing room come rushing back and his annoyance doubles. So what if others think he and Taguchi have good chemistry? They do. They have great chemistry! The best. Why, just last night-
“Huh? But we spend all our free time together.”
Taguchi’s candid remark brings Kame back to Earth. He becomes all too aware of the rolling cameras. Panic flares briefly behind his mask, but then he meets Taguchi’s laughing eyes and his tense muscles relax. There’s a twinkle of mischief in his expression and Kame knows exactly what’s coming next.
He and Taguchi wave their hands in front of their faces at the same time, mirroring each other. “Uso uso kawauso,” they say together. They’re completely in sync as they flap both hands in the imitation of a bird’s wings.
The studio erupts in more laughter. In the midst of all that, Koki is shaking his head and commenting on how it’s a fluke, but just for the moment, Kame doesn’t care. Taguchi managed to unfurl the knot of anxiety inside of him. How does he do that?
With his head clear, Kame puts on his best idol smile and comments, “As you can see, our bond as a group…”
“… is only deepening,” Taguchi continues for him.
“And freakin’ me out,” Ueda mutters so softly, not even the microphones pick it up, though Kame can hear him clear enough. He resists the urge to jam his elbow backwards into Ueda’s knee.
Perfume nods and Nocchi even claps her hands. “How nice,” she says.
“Yes, we’re striving to be the best group we can be,” Kame replies smoothly. “I would hope we all have good chemistry with each other.”
Taguchi chimes in. “Well, if we had any more, we’d be-”
“-explosive!” Kame finishes for him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He giggles before his mouth even forms around the last syllable.
From behind him, Taguchi’s laughter echoes his. Even with the rest of KAT-TUN groaning, Kame simply smiles as their hosts look at them with puzzled amusement. Without looking at him, Kame guesses that Taguchi is grinning, satisfied and a little full of himself-he probably thinks he’s rubbed off on me-and it’s times like these that Kame doesn’t mind their similar humors at all.
-
“Isn’t she so cute? Like unbelievably, I want to gouge my eyes out with rainbows, cute?”
“Er, yeah. Sure.”
Koki grins in fatherly pride and shuffles through his cellular photo album to attack Nakamaru with more pictures of his kids. He pauses to stroke the screen lovingly when a picture of Rai with a pink bow pinned to her ear pops up. He’s just about to show Nakamaru when the door to their dressing room opens.
“G’morning, Kame-chan,” Koki chirps, happily waving his phone. Kame will appreciate the sheer adorableness of his pets more and Koki is about to launch into another You Won’t Believe What Sakura-chan Did Last Night story when the door opens again.
“Hellooooo everyone!” Taguchi cheers, springing into the room just seconds after Kame has entered.
Koki squints between them. “Did you two come together?”
Kame stills momentarily from where he’s unpacking his giant shoulder bag and Taguchi sends him an inquisitive look before answering with an affirmative smile.
“When did that happen?” Koki asks with a contemplative frown. Since when could Kame stand Taguchi’s guts? Sure they had all grown closer, their dynamics more cohesive than they used to be, but Taguchi is still Taguchi and Koki knows how to handle him best.
“He’s just being stingy,” Ueda snorts from his languid sprawl across the sofa. “He’s been hitching a ride from Kame for weeks.”
Koki blinks. That makes sense. Taguchi is obnoxious like that and so what if he hadn’t thought to ask Koki, who lives closer and isn’t battling a nightmare-ish schedule, instead. Kame has a nicer car.
“Oi, don’t give Kame-chan any trouble,” Koki says with an admonishing kick to Taguchi’s shin as he finds a seat on the opposite side of the table. Taguchi just laughs and sends Kame an amused smile that’s returned with foreboding silence.
Being around Taguchi so early in the morning will do that to you, Koki thinks sympathetically and pats Kame’s back.
“I think it’s good that you’re sharing rides,” Nakamaru says and Koki and Kame both turn to him to ask a simultaneous, “Really?”
Nakamaru looks at their faces-one incredulous, the other oddly hopeful-confused at the sudden flare of attention and nods uncertainly.
“It’s very eco-friendly.”
-
There’s an abrupt change in Koki’s schedule that leaves him with a gaping hole of luxurious free time for a good chunk of the afternoon. Of course, that means his other activities have been pushed to later in the evening but Koki doesn’t mind; like any other idol, he’s grown used to filming during ungodly hours.
The only wrench in his plan to spend the day tinkering in his garage, Koki realizes as he walks down to the underground parking lot, is that his manager had driven him over earlier and now he has no car to drive home.
Koki pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts when he hears that familiar too-loud laughter and grins. A friendly favor within reach. Taguchi has good timing at least.
He skips over, weaving around parked cars, until he sees them.
“Yo~” he says with a sugary smile, blinking too fast to see Kame hurriedly step away from Taguchi and tug at his own collar with a small cough. Koki glues the palms of his hands together in front of him and says with a cheeky bow, “Kame-chan, do you think there’s enough room for me? Things got pushed back so…”
“Sure!” Taguchi answers and Kame stiffens, glaring at the side of his head.
“Who asked you?” Koki snorts and gives Kame a how-can-you-stand-this-guy look which, for the most part, is returned judging by the tightening around Kame’s mouth.
Kame tilts his head stiffly and says with a cheery tone that sounds flat and too forced, like he’s been made to try something awful in a food show and now has to speak its praises.
“It’s no problem. Hop in.”
Kame knocks a hard shoulder with Taguchi as he moves to the driver’s seat and that’s all the assurance Koki needs to know that the sour mood is not his personal doing. Taguchi is a mastermind at getting on Kame’s nerves, after all. At least Koki could spare him from any additional grief by keeping Taguchi distracted in the car.
“Sorry about the clutter,” Kame says when Koki slides into the backseat and they pull out of the parking lot. Taguchi is humming the tune of his solo in the passenger seat.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Koki replies and takes a curious look at the wine bottle and flowers and… food ingredients?... boxed beside him. The only thing missing in the disassembled romantic-dinner-in-a-box is a long column of elegant candles, but when Kame turns a corner and the bouquet of roses shifts, Koki sees that they’re included too.
Koki sends a sly grin at Kame through the rearview mirror.
“Someone’s planning a special night~ Any particular occasion? You know, Kame-chan, it’s against the bandmate code of brohood to hide that you’re seeing someone.”
“Are? You’re seeing someone, Kazuya?” Taguchi adds with round eyes.
Koki leans forward in excitement and sees Kame’s ears turn pink. A very Nakamaru-esque reaction.
“No one,” Kame says firmly but the sternness is washed away under his flush. “I… I like setting the table when I eat alone. It’s a treat.”
Koki rolls that in his mind for a minute and after considering Kame’s eccentric ways and penchant for lavish things, he concludes that Kame wooing himself with a candlelit dinner is a likely possibility.
“So you’re not seeing anyone, hmm?” Taguchi asks, looking all too gleeful at his bandmate’s single status. While things with Rena ended years ago, Taguchi is the only Serious Relationship Veteran among them which makes no sense whatsoever-Taguchi is so lame after all-so Koki prefers not to think about it.
Kame’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, you’re the only one plaguing me at the moment.”
Koki whines sympathetically as Taguchi laughs.
“Call me if he gives you any trouble, Kame-chan. I’ll sort him out.”
The clouds shift and Kame’s eyes narrow as they drive into the sunlight.
“I think I can handle him, thanks.”
Taguchi chuckles again and sends Kame a sweeping glance before he says, his voice strangely low, “I think so too. Kazuya has very effective ways of handling.”
Koki is about to ask for details when the car swerves and comes to an abrupt stop that has Koki falling back into his seat.
“We’re here!” Kame nearly shouts and there’s a mechanical noise that signals the doors have been unlocked.
Koki blinks and looks up at his apartment through the window. “That was fast,” he says in surprise. On good days, it usually took him a half hour to arrive at his place but Kame managed it in a quarter. They were lucky they hadn’t been caught for speeding. Too many penalties meant packing Kame inside a taxi which never ended well.
“No stoplights,” Kame says quickly. “Enjoy the sunshine, Koki.”
Koki smiles and says his thanks despite everything feeling rushed, an invisible hand pushing at his back. It’s the effect of having a crushing back-to-back schedule, Koki thinks. Kame probably doesn’t even have time to glance at the clock these days, never mind driving his bandmates around the city.
It’s not until Koki steps out of the car and sees Taguchi waving merrily through the window that he remembers.
“Wait, didn’t we just pass your place? You live closer than me.”
“Did we?” Taguchi asks with vigor, his mouth forming into an exaggerated ‘O’ before it morphs into a cheeky grin. “Kame’s a silly driver.”
Taguchi leans back in his seat to give a clear view of Kame who sends Koki a strained smile. The sun is shining bright and Koki’s not too sure but he thinks he sees a tick beginning to pulse near Kame’s mouth.
“Yeah, whoops,” Kame grits through a toothy smile that makes Koki want to crawl under his bed and never come out. “I guess I’ll have to toss Taguchi out onto the road. Bye, Koki.”
Koki watches the car pull away with an angry roar and silently prays for the safe return of his twin T.
-
“So what do you think?”
Nakamaru hands back the mock-up of Tegomass’s next single cover design to Masuda. “It’s furry,” he states with a straight face, taking a small sip of his hot chocolate.
His best friend is sitting across from him at one of their favorite cafes tucked away in a nondescript street in Shinagawa. They stare at each other for a beat before Masuda’s face breaks out into a smile. “Come on,” he says. His friend takes the straw out of his drink and points it at him, inadvertently flicking him with liquid. “Oops.”
Nakamaru calmly takes his napkin and wipes his face. If they weren’t in public, he would gladly retaliate. Instead, he tucks away the moment in his head, to remember for later when they go on their next survival game.
Masuda returns the straw to his chilled lemon tea, giving him a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” For now. Masuda still looks unsure, knowing Nakamaru all too well, and Nakamaru returns to the subject at hand to keep his friend from thinking about it too much. “It’s cute. Your fans will eat it up.”
Masuda puts the mock-ups back in his bag for safekeeping. “So would yours,” he says, but the barely restrained laughter in his voice gives away his real thoughts on the matter.
Nakamaru tries to imagine himself and the rest of his group in similar cat costumes as those Tegomass used and shudders. Not for the first time is he thankful that KAT-TUN goes more for cool than cutesy. “We could do it for a magazine shoot but never for a cover,” he says. “People are already too confused about our current image apparently.” He shakes his head when his friend raises an eyebrow. “Don’t ask.”
“I don’t know… I think Taguchi would suit this sort of thing. He’s got that goofy, unassuming aura about him.”
“You mean like you?”
Masuda ignores his snarky comment. “Oh! That reminds me,” he says abruptly. “I saw Taguchi the other day with Kame.”
The waitress places their orders on the table, and delicious honey toast now preoccupies Nakamaru’s attention. “At the agency, right,” he replies absentmindedly.
“In Ginza.”
That doesn’t sound right. Nakamaru pauses before the forkful of sweetness can reach his tongue. Upscale Ginza with its high-class restaurants and shops is Kame’s domain, while Taguchi has always been comfortable in more modest settings. Their opposite tastes guarantee outings between them as rare.
“Hmm, must be for some sort of new job,” Nakamaru says. He hasn’t seen the others in a while, busy with Majissuka location filming and then discussions for a new drama role. Kame and Taguchi had probably booked a new show, maybe the one for Suzuki car promotion that he had done with Koki the year before.
Masuda digs into his large shaved ice treat, complete with ice cream and combination of fruits. “There weren’t any cameras,” his friend points out between bites. “Actually… it kinda looked like, they were, y’know…”
Nakamaru is only half-listening to him again. “What?” he prompts. He pops the honey toast in his mouth, and thinks some kind of fruit would be a nice touch. Strawberries, maybe?
“Y’know…”
The emphasis in his words makes Nakamaru look up at him. He gets the distinct feeling his friend is trying to convey something to him. Something about Taguchi and Kame? So he saw them together and it wasn’t for a job. Rare, but not unheard of. They all get along much better these days, having grown out of their rebellious teenage ways. Nakamaru doesn’t find it all that shocking that Kame would choose to treat Taguchi every now and then. Not only does Kame like to be spoiled, as Nakamaru unfortunately knows all too well, their youngest member likes to spoil too.
When Nakamaru remains silent, Masuda isn’t discouraged and leans in a bit closer. “They seemed pretty cozy,” he confides on bated breath.
Co… zy…? His brain stops there. “Are you trying to say they were on a date?” Nakamaru forces out the last word, it’s so unbelievable.
“Yes!” Masuda for some reason looks pleased with himself. “You’re not usually this slow.”
“Who in their right mind would jump to that conclusion about Kame and Taguchi?” Nakamaru feels like he has to scrub his brain. He hadn’t realized his best friend was so cruel as to plant such a disturbing notion in his head. “It’s Kame. And Taguchi.” He stresses their names like that says it all. “Why would you even say that?”
Masuda shrugs. “They were sitting pretty close. And there was,” his voice drops to a whisper, “touching.”
Funnily enough, this makes Nakamaru relax. “When does Kame not touch?” he says dryly.
This time Masuda points his spoon at him, but carefully so liquid doesn’t go flying. “The touching was both ways,” he continues.
“Oh… at least Taguchi kept his clothes on this time. The guy’s crazy when drunk.” Nakamaru dismisses Masuda’s observations with a wave of his hand. “If you’re going to gossip, please do so with something that’s at least fractionally believable.”
Masuda seems disappointed, but Nakamaru changes the subject to something less crazy to talk about, like his friend’s availability for their next survival game. Something niggles at the back of his head, like he overlooked something important, but he shrugs it off.
-
Crazy when drunk, huh?
Masuda doesn’t mention that he had spotted the disguised pair in the darkened corner of a quaint ice cream parlor, and the only drinks they had gotten were of the shake variety. Oh well. Masuda thinks of the couple’s warm smiles and affectionate touches. It’s only a matter of time.
So he lets his best friend wallow in denial for a little longer. And when Nakamaru inevitably comes to talk to him, horrified, Masuda will be ready with a smug ‘I told you so’.
-
The next day Nakamaru mentions it to the others, if only so his own opinion can be validated. He doesn’t appreciate the way Masuda had looked at him skeptically. Though it’s not like he’s actually worried or anything.
Koki laughs long and hard after his story. “Man, Massu’s imagination is out of this world,” he says.
“He never seemed like the type that would spread rumors,” Ueda comments.
Nakamaru frowns at Ueda’s critical tone. “He just wanted confirmation,” he says, defending his best friend. “Of course I told him he was wrong.”
“A date with Kazuya?” Taguchi’s voice booms from the other side of the room, full of enthusiasm and laughter. “Sounds fun!”
Kame is stiff with what is no doubt disapproval. “I don’t go on dates with people who write down every expenditure in a notebook,” he hisses. The bump under the table is definitely Kame giving Taguchi a swift kick in the knee.
Taguchi’s face merely crinkles in amusement as Kame continues glaring at him. Nakamaru looks between them, any doubts he had quickly disappearing. See, they’re not together. He turns back to his newspaper, content. All is right with the world.
-
“Where’s Taguchi?” Nakamaru asks, scribbling on a pad. “I need his lunch order too.”
Later that day, Nakamaru leaves and then returns to their dressing room, asking for their orders without preamble. He had run into their manager in the hallway and was asked to take their requests while Yamamoto-san answered an important call.
Ueda flicks through the schedule of remaining things they had to do for the day. “He got pulled into a meeting with Higashiyama-san,” he says disinterestedly.
Koki yawns, laying his head on the table with his arms as a makeshift pillow. “Just get Taguchi the katsudon. He’ll eat anything.”
Kame only has one ear on the conversation so his response is automatic rather than deliberate. “No, he doesn’t like that,” he says. “Get him yakisoba, then one plain onigiri on the side.”
Normally Kame would say curry, but he had already made it for Taguchi the night before. Taguchi doesn’t care about such things, but Kame prefers the taller man have some variety in his diet. So he goes with Taguchi’s next favorite. He then notices that everyone is looking at him strangely.
“What?” he asks. His mind traces back over the conversation. He hadn’t said anything odd. The rest of KAT-TUN share doubtful looks between each other and Kame again asks, “What?”
Koki opens his mouth, but seems to think better of whatever he is about to say because he gives him a placating smile and says, “Nothing, Kame-chan.”
Kame regards them all suspiciously, but they all go back to their own thing-Ueda to his perusal of the schedule, Koki to his quick nap and Nakamaru to relaying their orders to their manager. Having his own stuff to worry about-the printout of a proposed schedule for upcoming movie promotion sits innocently in front of him-Kame lets it go.
The food arrives an hour or so later, just in time as Taguchi bounds into the room, looking a bit weary but still tinged with excitement. He lights up when his gaze lands on the yakisoba and a corner of Kame’s lips twitch at his reaction.
“Ah, my favorite!” Plopping down in the seat next to Kame, Taguchi tears into the package and digs in with gusto. Kame wonders if he’s actually imagining it or there really are hearts in the taller man’s eyes.
“Kame ordered it,” Koki says slowly. He turns to Kame, forehead creased. “… How did you know?”
In that moment, Kame realizes the looks he had seen earlier were his groupmates doubting his knowledge regarding Taguchi’s tastes. Frustration at their cluelessness and anxiety over being found out war inside him and he falls back on his ingrained habit to deny, deny, deny.
“What, I read it in a magazine interview,” he says, trying to keep his voice even.
“.........”
“It was the only one around, okay?!” Kame snaps, perhaps a tad bit too defensively. No, no he is not panicking whatsoever. He is Kamenashi Kazuya and he is as cool as a cucumber. Wait, no, ice. As cool as ice. “I didn't ask for an hour long break.”
The awkward silence barely has a chance to fester when Taguchi speaks up around a mouthful of noodles, “You ordered this for me? Thanks!” He swallows and smiles at Kame brightly. “Kazuya loves me~”
Kame jerks his head around to stare at him, too shocked at Taguchi’s frank admission to react in any other way. What are you doing?!
His boyfriend’s expression reflects none of Kame’s own unease. Kame stiffens when he feels Taguchi’s leg brush against his under the table. It stays there, a warm presence at his side, reassuring and calming him.
Unaware of the silent interaction going on between them, the other three scoff at Taguchi and respond with comments all along the lines of “In your dreams!”. The stiff mood fades as things return to the status quo. For someone so often inept at reading the atmosphere, Taguchi sure knows how to smooth things over.
With the others distracted and squabbling over how hopeless he is, Taguchi leans towards him and whispers, “Then I guess dreams really do come true, huh.”
Kame laughs in spite of himself, and just like that, the last of his anxiety falls away.
-
The group still meets every now and then at the agency to discuss business, but it isn’t until several weeks later when they meet in private and just because. It’s all for one of Ueda’s famous gyoza and takoyaki parties. Ironically, the one person who has been wanting to go the most is unable to come.
An unexpected offer came up last minute and Taguchi is off to Thailand to promote a special television channel devoted to Japanese series broadcasts. Changing the day of the party seemed like a waste since it had taken forever just to find a date they would all be free.
So here Kame is, lounging on the couch of Ueda’s family room and trying not to think of a certain tall someone. Ueda disappears into the kitchen to fetch drinks while Koki starts pouring batter in the moderately sized takoyaki grill on the coffee table. Nakamaru, meanwhile, inspects the variety of fillings Ueda had prepared beforehand in small bowls.
Taguchi is supposed to be here, exclaiming over every little thing, eager to try out all sorts of strange flavors, buzzing around and being a general nuisance. Kame takes out his phone.
Kame
Mar 16, 2013 8:34PM (JST)
Guess where I am? At UEDA’S.
He makes sure to attach a picture of the still cooking takoyaki with the assortment of fillings in the background. Kame realizes this is probably unfair, but Taguchi needs to know what he’s missing. In case he thinks Kame can’t have fun without him or something equally ridiculous.
Taguchi
Mar 16, 2013 6:38PM (ICT)
Thailand is so pretty~ It’s like I’m here on vacation!
Taguchi attaches a picture of his own-one of the brilliant view from his hotel room, complete with an elaborate flower decoration obviously made for him by the local staff. Another image follows of a lavish banquet of food from tom yum goong to pad thai to fruit and sticky rice dumplings.
Kame purses his lips, frowns, and then immediately snags a wine bottle and a glass when Ueda passes by, having finally emerged from the kitchen with glassware and several kinds of drinks on a large tray. Kame pours himself a generous amount of the red liquid.
“Wow, the young master is serving us himself!” Koki exclaims with mock amazement when Ueda approaches him. “I feel so honored. Can I get a beer?”
Ueda plunks the tray on the side table next to the couch, just out of Koki’s reach. “Get it yourself,” he replies. He sits on the floor next to Nakamaru and uses a pair of chopsticks to choose the fillings he wants, dropping them into a few of the batter-filled circles on the grill.
Koki pouts and turns wide eyes on Nakamaru. “Yucchi…”
Nakamaru ignores him for all of five seconds before he sighs.
“I got it,” Kame says. He misses the surprised look Nakamaru sends his way, and instead stands up and goes over to the drinks. He refills his own glass, and then pours beer into one of the chilled glasses and hands it to Koki. Then he goes about taking charge of the grill to keep his mind occupied.
“Thanks.” Koki grins, relinquishing his duty. He takes a swig of beer and leans back against the seat cushions of the couch. “Aaah, being spoiled by Kame-chan is one of my favorite pastimes.”
Kame smiles a little at that. He enjoys taking care of people as much as he likes being taken care of when the mood suits him. He has a longer sip of wine and starts turning over a few of the takoyaki balls.
“Add in what you want too, Koki,” Kame says, “or Ueda and Nakamaru will decide them all.” He inspects the cooking takoyaki as the aforementioned pair continues to drop in the fillings they want.
That spurs Koki into action as if he had forgotten that very fact. He squeezes himself in between the two oldest members just to mess with them-Ueda pushes at him while Nakamaru bears with it-as he picks out the ingredients he prefers.
Kame watches all this, imagines a loud voice-“We have to put this in and this-yes, I’ve always wanted to try peanut butter-yaki!”-and discovers his glass is empty yet again. With a shrug, he pours in some more.
-
Junno is a bit bemused when he receives a phone call right around the time he is ready to settle down for the night. Kazuya’s name flashes at him and he answers immediately, wondering what it could be. It’s ten-thirty in Thailand, which means it’s already past midnight in Japan and really, Kazuya should be in bed by now.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you!” Kazuya sounds way too cheerful, a sure sign that something is off. “How are you?” There are familiar voices chatting in the background, and Junno remembers that his group is gathered together at Ueda’s.
“I’m fine,” Junno says. He focuses on Kazuya rather than on his desire to mope. He did enough of that before his flight to Thailand. “I was just about to go to bed.”
“Already?!” There’s a big, long sigh on the other end. “Oh yeah, you like sleeping early… even when I’m not ready for you to.”
Kazuya is no doubt pouting, and Junno smiles, a suspicion forming in his mind. “You should be sleeping too,” he says. Kazuya doesn’t get nearly enough sleep as he should, which is often a point of contention between them.
“But I’m not sleepy!” Kazuya protests loudly. “I’m having so much fun with all the wine and the takoyaki. And the wine.”
Aaaaah. Just as he thought.
Kazuya continues enthusiastically, “There’s takoyaki here with your name on it!”
“Then it’s sure to be delicious! Much yummier than regular takoyaki,” Junno says. His smile grows as he listens to his tipsy boyfriend. “I’m jealous.”
“You should be!” Kazuya declares sternly. “I tried putting in peanut butter because you mentioned it to me that one time, and you’re so crazy. But I did it anyway because it’s something you would do and you’re not here.”
There’s a little bit of wistfulness at the end there, and Junno’s hand twitches with a sudden longing to hug the shorter man miles away.
“It was weird like you, Junjun!”
Junjun? If he wasn’t sure Kazuya was drunk before, he is now.
Kazuya goes on with a chuckle that borders more on a giggle. “But that’s okay because I love you.”
Even after all this time, Junno’s heart still stutters in his chest. The words aren’t often said aloud, but when they are, Junno holds them close. “I-”
Kazuya interrupts before he can reciprocate. “I miss you lots! I can’t wait to see you.”
“Kame…?” Koki’s voice emerges from the background, clearly puzzled and maybe even a bit freaked out.
“Uh.” Kazuya pauses for a good, long moment as if just recalling he’s not alone. “I. It’s... my mom. I haven’t talked to her in ages.” Awareness creeps back into Kazuya’s tone and Junno isn’t surprised this situation is enough to sober him up at least a little.
Nakamaru’s incredulous tone is hard to miss. “You call your mom Junjun…?”
Junno doesn’t even try to stifle his chuckles and he knows Kazuya hears him when his boyfriend becomes flustered. “Um… sometimes? It’s a nickname!”
Even after Kazuya hastily hangs up on him, Junno laughs and laughs and laughs.
Taguchi
Mar 16, 2013 10:48PM (ICT)
p.s. imu too
-
“I come bearing gifts!”
Junno is back in Japan on Monday. He energetically greets his groupmates as he barrels through the door, presents at the ready. They all wince at the volume of his voice so early in the morning.
“Aren’t you supposed to be tired after an international flight?” Nakamaru asks, flipping through a newspaper. “There’s this thing called jet lag.”
Ueda dismisses Junno with a glance. “You’re not human,” he says.
Koki is the only one who looks at him, or rather what he’s carrying, with interest. He holds out both hands. “Yes, please,” he says.
Junno wastes no time handing out the souvenirs of packaged sweets as well as a few other local trinkets-colorful bows for Koki’s kids, seeds for Nakamaru’s mini garden and toys for Ueda’s pets. “For you, and you, and you,” he says. He had enjoyed shopping for them during his minimal free time.
In contrast to the other three seated around the long conference table, his boyfriend is at the back of the room, sitting very quietly on the couch and away from the hubbub. Junno walks over and stands in front of him. Kazuya doesn’t quite look at him.
“And you,” Junno concludes softly. He dangles his present in front of Kazuya’s face.
Kazuya’s eyes drift from his newspaper to the gift. The necklace is a simple one-a twisted black leather cord tied off with a carved bead. From it there hangs a white porcelain charm. The charm is an abstract shape, though it looks like something very close to a dove. Kazuya likes things with a little flair, but Junno chose this piece precisely because it didn’t draw attention to itself.
“I hope you like it,” he addresses the room at large, but keeps his eyes on Kazuya.
The shorter man still won’t look at him. Taguchi hesitates until he notices the red lightly dusting Kazuya’s cheeks. He’s… embarrassed? Kazuya’s drunken phone call a couple days prior comes back to him.
Chuckling, Junno sits down beside him on the couch. Kazuya tenses ever so slightly. Junno peeks at his face and catches his eye. His boyfriend reddens further but this time doesn’t look away. Junno holds his wrist up to draw Kazuya’s attention there. He shows off his new bracelet, a perfect match to his present for him.
A small, pleased smile flits across Kazuya’s mouth. The necklace slips from Junno’s grasp as Kazuya accepts it, their fingers skimming each other’s. Kazuya studies it for a while, rubbing his thumb along the smooth surface of the charm, before he puts it on.
Kazuya pauses. “Huh, Taguchi. I just realized that the necklace you got me matches your bracelet. Neat, huh?” he says, louder than usual. “It’s like we’re a COUPLE.”
The other three murmur sounds of agreement, too engrossed in their own souvenirs to pay Kazuya much mind.
“That’s great, Kame-chan,” Koki says distractedly, popping a candy in his mouth.
Junno muffles his snort so as not to incur Kazuya’s wrath.
Crossing his arms, Kazuya glares at all of them. “They’re impossible,” he mutters under his breath.
It’s actually rather funny to see Kazuya in knots over the whole thing, wanting the others to find out and yet not. It had been Kazuya who decided they must keep their relationship a secret even from the members, citing that dating a colleague was asking for trouble. Junno considers them all more than simply colleagues, but is content to follow Kazuya’s lead. Things will unfold at their own pace.
For now, Junno looks upon him with fond affection. Sometimes Kazuya tries way too hard when what he should be doing is relaxing.
“It looks good on you,” Junno says, a touch quieter than usual so the others won’t hear.
Kazuya turns away from them with a huff, and slumps back on the couch. “Thanks,” he grumbles. He fingers his new necklace while staring at Junno’s wrist. Then he seems to recall something.
Kazuya straightens and turns to him, his back facing the others. “Welcome back,” he says. He places his hand next to his on the couch cushion, their pinkies barely touching. A warm smile blossoms on his face, one only for Junno’s eyes.
Kazuya really doesn’t know how hard it is for him to hold back. Junno successfully keeps his hands off him and merely responds with his own smile, as bright as he can, when all he wants to do is reach out and pull him close.
“It’s good to be home.”
-
Paris, the city of high fashion, croissants and clandestine kisses under the Eiffel Tower, is made less romantic by the absence of someone to kiss. Kame, for the most part, enjoys it immensely and tries not to bite too viciously at his baguette when he strolls by the beach and the sounds of crashing waves bring with them the memory of his bandmates.
First Thailand and now Paris, it’s like you and Taguchi can’t stand being in the same place too long, huh.
Kame didn’t know what they had meant by it and he still doesn’t now, when he’s scrambling to slip away from the flock of seagulls chasing at his back. He tries to look cool about it but he imagines his fashionably jaunty steps end up looking like an odd shuffle judging by the French girls giggling at him from under their fetching berets.
Kame blushes a bit and offers them a wave-and says goodbye to the remainder of his baguette as one of the more daring gulls snatches it from his hand. He doesn’t even bother trying to recover his image after that. The girls wave back as they laugh even louder and Kame can only think of Taguchi’s booming chuckle, the way his mouth would spread impossibly wide at Kame’s expense, as he keeps walking. There’d probably be some pun about bread and gulls.
Bagel, Kame thinks with a soft laugh to himself and tightens his scarf as the salty wind blows stronger.
They travelled separately because they had different schedules. Different timings and different things to do. Different duties. Nothing more, nothing less.
The same part of him that wishes Taguchi’s hand was nearby to wrap around and warm his wonders at their differences and if the others really do have a point.
-
“Don’t you think you’re being a little too obvious?” Taguchi asks when he holds up the T-shirt Kame had brought back from him as a souvenir. It’s a designer brand, made of premium cotton, costs as much as twenty T-shirts of lesser brands, and displays a giant skull across the chest.
It looks as if it was pulled straight from Kame’s closet.
Which, undeniably, was the point.
“You don’t like it?” Kame snaps defensively, the same uncomfortable feeling festering in his chest. “It’s not like anyone will notice. They’re practically blind anyway…”
Taguchi tosses the T-shirt over a shoulder and crosses his arms in a posture that Kame is all too familiar with. It’s the body language code for We’re Going To Talk About This And There Is No Escape. Taguchi tilts his head to the side, a gentle smile on his face that detracts from the sternness so that he appears more like a wall of pillows and fluffy things than an unyielding tower of hot. Kame would be perfectly fine with both, really.
“If you want them to know,” Taguchi says with a shrug like it’s all so easy and obvious, “then just tell them, Kazuya.”
Kame huffs through his nostrils and tries to snatch the T-shirt back but Taguchi dodges.
“I like it.”
“You’re wrinkling it,” Kame returns.
“Great,” Taguchi says with a large smile that makes Kame want to give him a messy kiss, “that way it’ll look as if I rolled out of your bedroom.”
“We tried that already. Ueda thought you misplaced your clothes iron.” Kame doesn’t try to hide the bitterness in his voice and is offended when all Taguchi does is laugh. Because it’s so funny that no one thinks he’s compatible with his own boyfriend ahahahabloodyha. “It doesn’t bother you at all, does it? Nakamaru could set you up with his sister and you’d just smile and accept it, wouldn’t you?”
Kame doesn’t know when he started pacing angry steps across his bedroom but he stops when Taguchi replies, “But I like having you all to myself.”
Kame turns to him and rubs at his elbow.
“That’s unfair,” he says in a small voice soaked in apology.
Taguchi smiles. “You started it. Besides, Nakamaru would eat his own sweater before he’d let us get close to his sister. I think he’d vandalize all your posters for even suggesting it.”
Kame can’t stop a burp of laughter at the thought and sends Taguchi a squinty I know what you’re up to look. Taguchi sends back an innocent shrug and follows him to the bed where they sit silently, Kame staring at the shape of his feet on the floorboards and trying to make sense of his warring thoughts.
“It’s not like I don’t like having you all to myself either,” Kame begins and hurriedly looks up at Taguchi to assure him, “because I do.”
“I know,” Taguchi says simply. “You even scared Koki away.”
Kame feels himself go pink under Taguchi’s knowing smile and darts his eyes away again.
“It’s just that… I want them to figure it out. I want them-I want us to be a possibility, at least.”
“So you want them to know…” Kame nods as Taguchi speaks, “but you don’t want to tell them.”
Kame nods again even though he can hear the amusement laced in Taguchi’s voice. He lets it go because the big, gentle hand that strokes down his back is more fond than mocking.
“I sound crazy, huh?” Kame says through a sigh and shuts his eyes, trying to squeeze out the doubts that have stiffened his muscles into knots. Taguchi shouldn’t have to put up with this. “Sorry.”
He feels Taguchi’s lips press right at the corner of his eye, bending his eyelashes.
“Only a little crazy. But I like that.”
For a long moment, they sit silently on Kame’s bed. Taguchi rubs patient circles into his back and Kame plays with their hands, hearing the seconds tick by as he wraps his fingers around Taguchi’s longer ones.
“If no one can see us being together, then maybe...” Kame breathes out thickly, carefully so that the words don’t injure, “they’re right? What if we don’t work?”
The hand at his back stills in an incomplete semi-circle and Kame is about to panic and abort, push Taguchi on the bed and swallow his wounded retort-only it sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
Kame snaps his head up and narrows his eyes at Taguchi’s crinkling face.
“I’m being serious.”
“I know. It doesn’t help,” Taguchi replies through another gaping smile. He catches Kame’s fist before it can collide with his chest and laughs again. “Kazuya, if you cared about what others thought about your love life, you’d be married to an older woman by now. You hate being predictable.”
Kame’s lips pucker sourly at the implication that he’s only with Taguchi for the novelty. A new taste for the tall, dark and lame before he grows bored and moves to the next.
“So you think we don’t fit together either?” he challenges.
Just hours ago, they shared a dinner of pasta. Kame had cooked as Taguchi set the table, knowing exactly which drawer held which cutlery, and tried (and failed) to help by nearly burning the sauce. Kame whacked him with a spoon when he made a pun about living life on the edge and set him to work on chopping the veggies instead, because Taguchi is better with knives than he is with fire (“I’m too hot to handle,” Taguchi had said with a grin and Kame had rolled his eyes, ducking his head back to the stove with an unruly smile he knew Taguchi had already seen).
When all was made, Taguchi moved to Kame’s back and untied the apron Kame always forgot to remove. Kame laughed sheepishly and pecked him on the cheek. They ate, they laughed, they shared. Their fingers touched every time they passed the pasta, the sauce, the drink, the bread, every time they were in each other’s reach. They kissed tasting oregano and when Taguchi had leaned back, he said with a thoughtful look, “Try it with less salt next time.” Kame had thrown his napkin at him even though he agreed.
If that-if they-weren’t predictable, then Kame didn’t know what was. They fit, damnit. And Kame would dare anyone to prove otherwise.
Taguchi blinks, watching Kame carefully and then, with an arm sneaking up behind Kame’s shoulders, swiftly tilts them flat onto the bed. He hovers above Kame with a pleased smile that makes Kame’s toes curl, his blood sizzling like hot oil.
“I’d say we were made for each other but I think you’ve just sorted it out for yourself,” Taguchi murmurs, his eyes growing darker with focus in a way that they never do outside the bedroom. “I love it when you love us.”
Kame swallows. “Now you’re definitely going to wrinkle it.”
He grabs the T-shirt off Taguchi’s shoulder and tosses it somewhere before Taguchi leans down. It’s limited edition, shockingly expensive, and Kame had to throw away two of his toothbrushes to fit the T-shirt into his luggage. At the moment, however, Kame can’t care less. The fewer clothes they have between them, the better.
“We really do fit perfectly,” Kame pants an hour later, lying sated and limp over Taguchi’s bare torso which quakes with an agreeing hum.
Now he only has to make the others see.
… Or suspect, at the very least.
-
Junno is sitting in the dressing room, flipping through a glossy sports magazine and considering whether he should take up hiking as his new hobby of the month. He’s finished his solo shoot and has already changed back into his own clothes, his hair now messier and the lip gloss rubbed away. The bracelet he had brought from Thailand dangles at his wrist as he waits for Kazuya’s shoot to end.
He flips the page to see an article on kayaking and changes his mind for the third time in the span of ten minutes. He wonders if he should ask Kazuya for advice and smiles to himself. That’s just asking for a lecture on baseball and while Junno loves Kazuya’s bright-eyed excitement that flares at the very mention of the sport, he’s heard too much already.
Not that having a baseball fanatic for a lover doesn’t have its perks, Junno thinks, remembering the curve of Kazuya’s muscled arms, the slope of his strong shoulders sliding under his roaming palms…
Junno doesn’t understand what he’s reading.
He tosses the magazine aside just as the door swings open, slamming shut just seconds afterward as a blurry figure storms inside, a tornado of sculpted brown curls, velvet, hands and heat. So much heat.
Hurricane Kazuya is the last thought that crosses Junno’s mind before it short circuits under Kazuya’s assault. He’s jerked up into a stand by rough hands at his collar, Kazuya’s body latching against his entire length, a desperate mouth roving messily along his face. Briefly, because it’s not possible to breathe let alone hold onto a thought when Kazuya is clogging up his senses, Junno wonders if he’s being eaten alive.
I’ll give you a tummy ache, Junno chides silently and holds on, lets Kazuya have whatever he needs as he tries to keep him together.
Kazuya moans, loud and deep, and that’s all it takes for Junno to be swept under.
He resurfaces just as suddenly with a sudden push that sends him flying back onto the couch and he sits there panting and gaping, about to ask Kazuya if this is his new form of revenge for hogging up the bathroom this morning, when the sounds of footsteps filter into his ear.
Not two seconds later, the door opens.
Koki pauses, standing still in the door frame.
Junno tracks the movement of his eyes, how they trace over Kazuya’s disheveled clothes, Kazuya’s hair in uncharacteristic disarray because Junno’s hands had a mind of their own, and doesn’t have to look down at himself to know that he looks equally debauched.
His mouth feels wet.
There’s no one else in the room.
On a scale of one to ten, ten being So Highly Incriminating A Monkey Could Put It Together, the situation is worthy of a twelve.
Only, Junno notices when he looks up cautiously at Kazuya who is watching Koki with a strange sort of expectancy, Kazuya doesn’t look half as stricken as he should. No horror or embarrassment, just a redness dying his cheeks.
Well.
Junno turns back to Koki with a tiny amused smile twitching at the corner of his lips and waits for the verdict.
It’s hard to tell whether Koki does or doesn’t disappoint when, after squinting back and forth between them, he asks, “Were you stretching again, Kame-chan?”
Junno resists turning to see Kazuya’s face only because he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back his laughter and that would only add fuel to Kazuya’s murderous fire.
“…Seriously?” Kazuya deadpans, voice flat with disbelief before it revives with forced enthusiasm. “I mean y-yeah.”
From his periphery, Junno sees Kazuya’s arms stretch in demonstration and he grins.
“But Kazuya is already flexible.”
He doesn’t flinch when Kazuya kicks at his shin.
When Koki leaves, after offering a ride back that Junno declines with a sunny smile, Kazuya drops down next to him in a defeated heap, his head in his hands.
“That’s it. I give up.”
Junno smiles at his dramatics.
“You wanted them to catch us, didn’t you? That’s why you left the door unlocked.”
“Not that it made a difference,” Kazuya grumbles. Junno wonders if it registers in Kazuya’s mind that he just risked his professionalism to prove them real. But probably not, which is a good thing because his lover is just the right amount of insane without digesting that extra tidbit.
Junno reaches out, an arm wrapping around Kazuya’s shoulder and tugging him in close. He kisses the top of Kazuya’s head, the excessive hairspray tickling his nose, and waits for Kazuya’s gaze to lift.
“How about we make out on stage next time?”
Kazuya rewards him with an eye roll and a huff of amusement that he tries to hide with a slight elbow dig at Junno’s side. Junno grins back thinking I love you.
-
Nakamaru is digging through his bag to find his wallet-which he swears he brought with him this morning and desperately needs because agreeing to lunch with Ueda means that he’ll be the one paying; a fact he learned through years of experience-when he hears someone enter the dressing room.
The smell of vanilla that wafts into the room is so poignant and familiar that Nakamaru doesn’t even look up when he extends his greetings.
“Hey, Kame. You wouldn’t happen to have extra cash on you, would you?”
“Don’t know but I’ll gladly ask him for you.”
Nakamaru pauses in his hunt and pivots around mechanically to face a grinning Taguchi. He stares at him as he seats himself near the table and pulls out his PSP.
“You’re not Kame,” Nakamaru says dumbly.
“My height gave it away, didn’t it?” Taguchi laughs.
Nakamaru frowns. “But you smell like him. That’s Kame’s smell.”
Nakamaru realizes he sounds slightly deranged and stalker-like but, just as some people’s hips don’t lie, his nose doesn’t either and he knows that smell. Kame has been wearing the same perfume for years, without fail, and pointedly refused to share a bottle of the fragrance when Nakamaru had asked because he was a sucker for vanilla.
“Why do you smell like Kame?” Nakamaru asks more insistently, his world beginning to tilt.
Taguchi shrugs and his bracelet jingles when he turns on the PSP with his thumb. Nakamaru remembers seeing the same jewelry design dangling around Kame’s neck and he stumbles back, his hand clutching the makeup counter for support.
“I guess his scent must have rubbed off,” Taguchi says offhandedly.
“R-rubbed off? You smell like him all over. How could you possibly-”
Nakamaru cuts off in a choking wheeze as he remembers Masuda and the rumors and the carpooling, and one after the other, the dots begin to connect.
“Nakamaru?” Taguchi asks innocently but the creases that spread from the corners of his eyes betray him.
Nakamaru releases a horrified whisper, “Oh. My. God.”
-
Junno wonders at himself for not trying his hand out before because the fallout is more amusing than anything.
“I knew it ALL ALONG,” Nakamaru shouts from where he stands accusingly in the center of the dressing room. Ueda and Koki watch from the sidelines, still recovering from the news. Koki is silent and pale, save for the blush that dusts his cheeks whenever he catches Junno’s or Kazuya’s eyes.
Ueda, on the other hand, doesn’t dare open his own.
“My eyes, my eyes. Ow. Owowow.”
“You haven’t seen anything,” Kazuya scoffs before jumping back to Nakamaru, a vicious victory gleaming in his face. “And you. You thought we were playing video games in the janitor’s closet. In the dark. When we didn’t even have video games.”
Nakamaru crosses his arms in a way that would make their manager proud.
“Well, I couldn’t exactly see from that angle since you were sitting in Taguchi’s lap…” There’s an awkward pause in which Nakamaru blinks and never has he looked more like a grandpa than when he walks weakly over to the couch and perches gingerly on the armrest, a pained I’m too old for this expression contorting his face. “Excuse me while I bleach my brain.”
Across from him, Ueda walks into the wall. For a moment, they all watch him stumble and curse and walk blindly into the same spot again.
“Flexible,” Koki suddenly says into the silence, a metaphorical light bulb flashing to life above his head, and promptly turns beet red to match Kazuya.
“Very flexible,” Junno intones.
On cue, Nakamaru curls up with a whimper just as Ueda’s screech fills the room.
“Drama queens,” Kazuya mutters acidly and Junno can only laugh at the irony.
Omake
“Tsk. Sit still. You ruined it again.” Kame adjusts the angle of Taguchi’s head and weaves his hands into Taguchi’s dark cropped hair, combing the strands into obedience with his fingers.
Once Taguchi’s hair has been styled, Kame lets his fingers linger along the soft skin at the nape of his neck, stroking it with gentle fondness. He quickly drops his hand when Taguchi tilts his head back, his upside down smile looking miles away from a frown.
“I’ll take that as a thank you.”
Kame flushes and looks away, saying petulantly, “I can’t believe your method worked, of all things…”
Taguchi’s hand finds his just as it’s prone to do.
“Sometimes, subtlety is the key,” Taguchi says with a twinkling smile. His thumb rubs a figure on the back of Kame’s hand, probably something dumb like a heart because Taguchi is lame like that and Kame loves him that way.
“Well, when a brick to the head fails… You’re just lucky Nakamaru keeps stalker tabs on me,” Kame says and pulls back his hand to remove a loose strand of hair sticking to Taguchi’s collar.
“Kame’s touching Taguchi again,” Ueda suddenly announces behind them. Loudly.
Kame jumps back with a startled, “Wha-?”
“Can you not keep your hands to yourselves for one second? What are you, virgins?” Koki says from the table with an expression of disgust.
“I was only plucking off a strand of hair!” Kame shouts, his face heating on its own accord, as if he had been caught lifting Taguchi’s skirt which was ridiculous (except not really because Taguchi had fantastic legs and Kame would, only Taguchi favored pants more).
“Plucking a-for the love of-WE’RE AT WORK,” Nakamaru bursts out and stomps over to slide between him and Taguchi like a great wall of prudish argyle. Taguchi waves over his shoulder.
Furious, Kame swivels around and sees Ueda smirking back.
“You little-”
“Kame just tried reaching for Taguchi’s hand,” Ueda says coolly.
“KAME.”
“I did not.”
“This is sexual harassment.”
“I’m quite okay with it, actually.”
“No one asked you, Taguchi.”
“Hey, lay off him.”
“Virgins,” Koki punctuates.
“Flexible,” Taguchi reminds.
“My EYES,” Ueda wails and Kame sends Taguchi an adoring smile.
“Thank you.”
Pairing/Group: Junno/Kame (KameNo), KAT-TUN
Rating: PG13
Word Count: 10.7k
Warnings: Some KAT-TUN members may have become permanently scarred... oops.
Notes: This fic was co-written with the lovely krysyuy ♥, the other half of Team PBnJ, for the 2013 DOA fic challenge. The original post can be found here. Our chosen prompt was fragrance.
Summary: For Kame, keeping a secret (boyfriend) has never been so frustratingly easy, especially with group members as dense as his.
“If you dated one of the members, who would it least likely be?”
With Junno’s attention on his PSP, the question Koki reads aloud barely grazes his consciousness. It’s nothing they haven’t heard variations of before. There’s a mutter, then a sigh, but it’s only after Junno defeats the boss character with a triumphant shout that he realizes his fellow group members are all looking at him.
Junno beams back at them, not ruffled in the slightest and still high from his digital victory.
This starts another round of sighs and mutters-“yes, definitely him”-to which Junno only shrugs. He goes about making sure to save his game properly when he feels one stare in particular boring into his skull. It’s very familiar, one he is even fond of, so when he lifts his head to see Kazuya’s scowl, he has no problem whatsoever returning it with an easy smile of his own.
If anything, the annoyance only deepens in the man sitting across the table from him. Junno can only wonder what Kazuya is up in arms about this time.
“So we can all agree that we would least likely date this guy here,” Koki says, jabbing a thumb in Junno’s direction.
“Eh?” Junno looks over at Koki, who is seated next to him, and grins. “But I’d be an awesome boyfriend.”
Nakamaru grimaces. “I’d rather not imagine any of you in that context, thank you very much,” he says.
“But since we have to-” Koki waves around the set of interview prep questions he had been reading from, “-you, Taguchi, are the winner.”
“Unanimous then?” He tries very hard not to glance across the table, knowing how tenuous a grip he has on keeping his laughter contained.
“Duh.” There’s that sparkle of mischief in Koki’s eye that lets Junno know it’s all in good fun. Well, most of it at least. Junno is sure there’s truth mixed in there somewhere and he doesn’t mind. Different strokes for different folks and all that. Besides, why care when he’s already dating the person whose opinion matters the most to him?
“Though,” Koki muses thoughtfully, “it’s probably true the most for Kame.”
Junno bites his lip. He’s proud when his voice comes out with only a small tremor of repressed amusement as he says, “Oh?”
“The opposite is true too,” Koki goes on. Ueda looks extremely bored at his end of the table as he scribbles into his well-worn notebook of half-finished music and lyrics, while Nakamaru has his head in his hands as if he can’t believe they’re still discussing their current topic. “You would least likely date Kame.”
“Excuse me?”
Junno finally turns back around and one glance lets him know that Kazuya’s mood has not improved in the slightest. Koki also takes note of their bandmate’s furrowed eyebrows, turned down in displeasure.
“No worries, Kame-chan! I would totally date you,” Koki says with a grin. “Taguchi here just wouldn’t mesh well with you. I mean, seriously, can you imagine it? Right, Yucchi?”
Nakamaru looks pained as if burdened with a huge headache, but responds anyway. “Yeah, like oil and water. Not enough in common. You’d get on each other’s nerves.”
There’s a tick in Kazuya’s cheek, which is not a good sign for things to come, but before he can open his mouth, there’s a knock at the door and a haggard assistant peeks her head in.
“Excuse me, but we’re ready for Tanaka-san, Nakamaru-san and Ueda-san’s group photo shoot.”
Koki gets up cheerfully. “Roger!” On his way out the door, he calls out over his shoulder. “Try not to kill each other while we’re gone!”
Nakamaru sighs and Junno is pretty sure Ueda is rolling his eyes behind his sunglasses as they follow Koki and the assistant. When the door clicks closed behind them, the room is plunged into silence. Then Junno locks eyes with Kazuya and the laughter he had been holding in comes pouring out in wheezes and shaking shoulders.
“What’s so funny?” Kazuya snaps.
“The irony was killing me,” Junno gasps. Kazuya’s stare continues to be frightfully chilly, for some reason much more so with his black-rimmed glasses, and Junno manages to get his mirth under control. “What’s wrong?”
“Well apparently, we don’t suit each other at all,” Kazuya says, thoroughly displeased.
Contrary to popular belief, Junno is rather good at reading between the lines. It just depends on the subject matter. Kazuya is one he is well versed in. He grasps the source of the storming emotions brewing in the other man, and a certain kind of tenderness wells up inside. He stands and circles around as Kazuya continues.
“Is it just so impossible that we could be together?” Kazuya glowers at nothing in particular, though Junno assumes their absent group members are being pictured in the shorter man’s head.
Junno comes to a stop and sits on the edge of the table in front of him. “Kazuya,” he prompts gently. He reaches out to smooth over the creases in his forehead, as he wanted to do earlier. The change is subtle, Kazuya’s muscles relaxing, and then leaning into Junno’s touch just so. The frown is still there, but now soft around the edges.
Junno smiles. “Doesn’t this work in our favor?” he points out. “We wanted to keep this a secret. It’s a good thing they think we’re impossible.”
Kazuya pulls away from him. “Yeah, whatever.”
Junno watches as Kazuya’s frown shifts to a rather sulky pout, and he can’t help but laugh again. He snags Kazuya by the arm and kisses the inside of his wrist, delighted when the pout turns into a blush.
His boyfriend is adorable.
-
After watching the clip of a large crowd shouting and raising bamboo poles, Kame and the others are asked what the crowd is up to. He has no earthly idea what that could be but, recalling the length of the poles, is reminded of a certain sport. He scribbles his answer on the board the staff had handed over even though it’s a guess in the dark and he’s still rather baffled.
The atmosphere is so relaxed, as it usually is whenever they interact with Perfume, that Kame barely takes note of the cameras pointed at them. Kame appreciates how genuine all three women are. Plus he could see his younger self trying to flip their skirts.
But he’s long since moved on from such things and all he does now is flip the board over when they ask him to. Nocchi reads his answer, and then looks behind him and smiles. “It seems you and Taguchi-kun are in sync,” she comments.
Hmm? Kame turns around to see that Taguchi has written ‘pole vault’ as well in his large script, complete with stick figure pictures. Torn between exasperated and amused, he exchanges a quick smile with his boyfriend whose face brightens in response. Their thoughts always seem to circle around the same things when he least expects it.
Kame abruptly remembers where they are and turns back to the front as casually as possible. He flips his board back over and says, “Ah wait, I’m sorry. Can we cut right now? I don’t want to be the same as Taguchi.”
As expected, it prompts laughs from around the room. Kame chuckles as he takes another peek at Taguchi who is laughing along with everyone else.
Not a single strand of her long hair is out of place when Kashiyuka tilts her head to the side. “So, using the bamboo they’re holding to do a pole vault,” she says, trying to figure out their reasoning.
“That’s not going to work,” Ueda comments from his seat behind Kame.
“Well, well, you never know…” Taguchi replies.
Kame, however, is onto him. He turns in his seat so he has an easy view of the other four. “You were just confused, right,” he says, pointing at him.
“I was,” Taguchi admits without difficulty. He’s never one to go beating around the bush. It’s something that Kame both resents and admires him for.
“Me too…” Kame replies with a pained wince, pretending to be depressed. “We’re the same, huh. Taguchi-san and I.” A small part of him is way too pleased at the thought.
“You were confused?” Ueda asks.
“I was,” Kame says somewhat sheepishly.
“It’s fine if I’m the only one ever confused here,” Taguchi pipes up, gesturing to their whole group, though his gaze lingers on Kame a second longer than necessary.
Kame bursts out laughing along with everyone else and he has to cover his mouth to hide his involuntary grin. His cheeks feel a bit hot, as they tend to do whenever Taguchi teases him. Only Taguchi can be both self-deprecating while jokingly critical of Kame at the same time. Kame is totally going to get back at him for that later.
“You have such good chemistry.”
Kame whips around to see all the Perfume members nodding along to the male host’s observation. Nocchi’s chin-length bob bounces with the movement as she regards him and Taguchi with a speculative eye. Did he accidentally give something away? His defensive walls shoot up instinctively-no one can find out!-and he’s ready to grimace and make some comment at Taguchi’s expense, which would be more par for the course.
“Eh, why do you say that?” Koki’s voice emerges from the other side of Nakamaru, the question directed at their hosts.
Perfectly poised in her red dress with black polka dot sleeves, A-chan looks between Kame and Taguchi. “It’s a feeling,” she says. “Like they get along really well.”
Koki snorts. “I’m not so sure about that,” he replies, tone suggesting he’s the authority on their relationship. Only Kame’s many years in the business keep his eyebrow from twitching.
“Kame tends to have chemistry with everyone,” Nakamaru comments in a matter-of-fact tone. “He can just bring that out, even if they’re actually really incompatible in private.”
Kame had been gearing up to say similar things himself, but now all he feels is irritation chafing at him. Memories of the other day in the dressing room come rushing back and his annoyance doubles. So what if others think he and Taguchi have good chemistry? They do. They have great chemistry! The best. Why, just last night-
“Huh? But we spend all our free time together.”
Taguchi’s candid remark brings Kame back to Earth. He becomes all too aware of the rolling cameras. Panic flares briefly behind his mask, but then he meets Taguchi’s laughing eyes and his tense muscles relax. There’s a twinkle of mischief in his expression and Kame knows exactly what’s coming next.
He and Taguchi wave their hands in front of their faces at the same time, mirroring each other. “Uso uso kawauso,” they say together. They’re completely in sync as they flap both hands in the imitation of a bird’s wings.
The studio erupts in more laughter. In the midst of all that, Koki is shaking his head and commenting on how it’s a fluke, but just for the moment, Kame doesn’t care. Taguchi managed to unfurl the knot of anxiety inside of him. How does he do that?
With his head clear, Kame puts on his best idol smile and comments, “As you can see, our bond as a group…”
“… is only deepening,” Taguchi continues for him.
“And freakin’ me out,” Ueda mutters so softly, not even the microphones pick it up, though Kame can hear him clear enough. He resists the urge to jam his elbow backwards into Ueda’s knee.
Perfume nods and Nocchi even claps her hands. “How nice,” she says.
“Yes, we’re striving to be the best group we can be,” Kame replies smoothly. “I would hope we all have good chemistry with each other.”
Taguchi chimes in. “Well, if we had any more, we’d be-”
“-explosive!” Kame finishes for him as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He giggles before his mouth even forms around the last syllable.
From behind him, Taguchi’s laughter echoes his. Even with the rest of KAT-TUN groaning, Kame simply smiles as their hosts look at them with puzzled amusement. Without looking at him, Kame guesses that Taguchi is grinning, satisfied and a little full of himself-he probably thinks he’s rubbed off on me-and it’s times like these that Kame doesn’t mind their similar humors at all.
-
“Isn’t she so cute? Like unbelievably, I want to gouge my eyes out with rainbows, cute?”
“Er, yeah. Sure.”
Koki grins in fatherly pride and shuffles through his cellular photo album to attack Nakamaru with more pictures of his kids. He pauses to stroke the screen lovingly when a picture of Rai with a pink bow pinned to her ear pops up. He’s just about to show Nakamaru when the door to their dressing room opens.
“G’morning, Kame-chan,” Koki chirps, happily waving his phone. Kame will appreciate the sheer adorableness of his pets more and Koki is about to launch into another You Won’t Believe What Sakura-chan Did Last Night story when the door opens again.
“Hellooooo everyone!” Taguchi cheers, springing into the room just seconds after Kame has entered.
Koki squints between them. “Did you two come together?”
Kame stills momentarily from where he’s unpacking his giant shoulder bag and Taguchi sends him an inquisitive look before answering with an affirmative smile.
“When did that happen?” Koki asks with a contemplative frown. Since when could Kame stand Taguchi’s guts? Sure they had all grown closer, their dynamics more cohesive than they used to be, but Taguchi is still Taguchi and Koki knows how to handle him best.
“He’s just being stingy,” Ueda snorts from his languid sprawl across the sofa. “He’s been hitching a ride from Kame for weeks.”
Koki blinks. That makes sense. Taguchi is obnoxious like that and so what if he hadn’t thought to ask Koki, who lives closer and isn’t battling a nightmare-ish schedule, instead. Kame has a nicer car.
“Oi, don’t give Kame-chan any trouble,” Koki says with an admonishing kick to Taguchi’s shin as he finds a seat on the opposite side of the table. Taguchi just laughs and sends Kame an amused smile that’s returned with foreboding silence.
Being around Taguchi so early in the morning will do that to you, Koki thinks sympathetically and pats Kame’s back.
“I think it’s good that you’re sharing rides,” Nakamaru says and Koki and Kame both turn to him to ask a simultaneous, “Really?”
Nakamaru looks at their faces-one incredulous, the other oddly hopeful-confused at the sudden flare of attention and nods uncertainly.
“It’s very eco-friendly.”
-
There’s an abrupt change in Koki’s schedule that leaves him with a gaping hole of luxurious free time for a good chunk of the afternoon. Of course, that means his other activities have been pushed to later in the evening but Koki doesn’t mind; like any other idol, he’s grown used to filming during ungodly hours.
The only wrench in his plan to spend the day tinkering in his garage, Koki realizes as he walks down to the underground parking lot, is that his manager had driven him over earlier and now he has no car to drive home.
Koki pulls out his phone and scrolls through his contacts when he hears that familiar too-loud laughter and grins. A friendly favor within reach. Taguchi has good timing at least.
He skips over, weaving around parked cars, until he sees them.
“Yo~” he says with a sugary smile, blinking too fast to see Kame hurriedly step away from Taguchi and tug at his own collar with a small cough. Koki glues the palms of his hands together in front of him and says with a cheeky bow, “Kame-chan, do you think there’s enough room for me? Things got pushed back so…”
“Sure!” Taguchi answers and Kame stiffens, glaring at the side of his head.
“Who asked you?” Koki snorts and gives Kame a how-can-you-stand-this-guy look which, for the most part, is returned judging by the tightening around Kame’s mouth.
Kame tilts his head stiffly and says with a cheery tone that sounds flat and too forced, like he’s been made to try something awful in a food show and now has to speak its praises.
“It’s no problem. Hop in.”
Kame knocks a hard shoulder with Taguchi as he moves to the driver’s seat and that’s all the assurance Koki needs to know that the sour mood is not his personal doing. Taguchi is a mastermind at getting on Kame’s nerves, after all. At least Koki could spare him from any additional grief by keeping Taguchi distracted in the car.
“Sorry about the clutter,” Kame says when Koki slides into the backseat and they pull out of the parking lot. Taguchi is humming the tune of his solo in the passenger seat.
“Nah, it’s fine,” Koki replies and takes a curious look at the wine bottle and flowers and… food ingredients?... boxed beside him. The only thing missing in the disassembled romantic-dinner-in-a-box is a long column of elegant candles, but when Kame turns a corner and the bouquet of roses shifts, Koki sees that they’re included too.
Koki sends a sly grin at Kame through the rearview mirror.
“Someone’s planning a special night~ Any particular occasion? You know, Kame-chan, it’s against the bandmate code of brohood to hide that you’re seeing someone.”
“Are? You’re seeing someone, Kazuya?” Taguchi adds with round eyes.
Koki leans forward in excitement and sees Kame’s ears turn pink. A very Nakamaru-esque reaction.
“No one,” Kame says firmly but the sternness is washed away under his flush. “I… I like setting the table when I eat alone. It’s a treat.”
Koki rolls that in his mind for a minute and after considering Kame’s eccentric ways and penchant for lavish things, he concludes that Kame wooing himself with a candlelit dinner is a likely possibility.
“So you’re not seeing anyone, hmm?” Taguchi asks, looking all too gleeful at his bandmate’s single status. While things with Rena ended years ago, Taguchi is the only Serious Relationship Veteran among them which makes no sense whatsoever-Taguchi is so lame after all-so Koki prefers not to think about it.
Kame’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. “Unfortunately, you’re the only one plaguing me at the moment.”
Koki whines sympathetically as Taguchi laughs.
“Call me if he gives you any trouble, Kame-chan. I’ll sort him out.”
The clouds shift and Kame’s eyes narrow as they drive into the sunlight.
“I think I can handle him, thanks.”
Taguchi chuckles again and sends Kame a sweeping glance before he says, his voice strangely low, “I think so too. Kazuya has very effective ways of handling.”
Koki is about to ask for details when the car swerves and comes to an abrupt stop that has Koki falling back into his seat.
“We’re here!” Kame nearly shouts and there’s a mechanical noise that signals the doors have been unlocked.
Koki blinks and looks up at his apartment through the window. “That was fast,” he says in surprise. On good days, it usually took him a half hour to arrive at his place but Kame managed it in a quarter. They were lucky they hadn’t been caught for speeding. Too many penalties meant packing Kame inside a taxi which never ended well.
“No stoplights,” Kame says quickly. “Enjoy the sunshine, Koki.”
Koki smiles and says his thanks despite everything feeling rushed, an invisible hand pushing at his back. It’s the effect of having a crushing back-to-back schedule, Koki thinks. Kame probably doesn’t even have time to glance at the clock these days, never mind driving his bandmates around the city.
It’s not until Koki steps out of the car and sees Taguchi waving merrily through the window that he remembers.
“Wait, didn’t we just pass your place? You live closer than me.”
“Did we?” Taguchi asks with vigor, his mouth forming into an exaggerated ‘O’ before it morphs into a cheeky grin. “Kame’s a silly driver.”
Taguchi leans back in his seat to give a clear view of Kame who sends Koki a strained smile. The sun is shining bright and Koki’s not too sure but he thinks he sees a tick beginning to pulse near Kame’s mouth.
“Yeah, whoops,” Kame grits through a toothy smile that makes Koki want to crawl under his bed and never come out. “I guess I’ll have to toss Taguchi out onto the road. Bye, Koki.”
Koki watches the car pull away with an angry roar and silently prays for the safe return of his twin T.
-
“So what do you think?”
Nakamaru hands back the mock-up of Tegomass’s next single cover design to Masuda. “It’s furry,” he states with a straight face, taking a small sip of his hot chocolate.
His best friend is sitting across from him at one of their favorite cafes tucked away in a nondescript street in Shinagawa. They stare at each other for a beat before Masuda’s face breaks out into a smile. “Come on,” he says. His friend takes the straw out of his drink and points it at him, inadvertently flicking him with liquid. “Oops.”
Nakamaru calmly takes his napkin and wipes his face. If they weren’t in public, he would gladly retaliate. Instead, he tucks away the moment in his head, to remember for later when they go on their next survival game.
Masuda returns the straw to his chilled lemon tea, giving him a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” For now. Masuda still looks unsure, knowing Nakamaru all too well, and Nakamaru returns to the subject at hand to keep his friend from thinking about it too much. “It’s cute. Your fans will eat it up.”
Masuda puts the mock-ups back in his bag for safekeeping. “So would yours,” he says, but the barely restrained laughter in his voice gives away his real thoughts on the matter.
Nakamaru tries to imagine himself and the rest of his group in similar cat costumes as those Tegomass used and shudders. Not for the first time is he thankful that KAT-TUN goes more for cool than cutesy. “We could do it for a magazine shoot but never for a cover,” he says. “People are already too confused about our current image apparently.” He shakes his head when his friend raises an eyebrow. “Don’t ask.”
“I don’t know… I think Taguchi would suit this sort of thing. He’s got that goofy, unassuming aura about him.”
“You mean like you?”
Masuda ignores his snarky comment. “Oh! That reminds me,” he says abruptly. “I saw Taguchi the other day with Kame.”
The waitress places their orders on the table, and delicious honey toast now preoccupies Nakamaru’s attention. “At the agency, right,” he replies absentmindedly.
“In Ginza.”
That doesn’t sound right. Nakamaru pauses before the forkful of sweetness can reach his tongue. Upscale Ginza with its high-class restaurants and shops is Kame’s domain, while Taguchi has always been comfortable in more modest settings. Their opposite tastes guarantee outings between them as rare.
“Hmm, must be for some sort of new job,” Nakamaru says. He hasn’t seen the others in a while, busy with Majissuka location filming and then discussions for a new drama role. Kame and Taguchi had probably booked a new show, maybe the one for Suzuki car promotion that he had done with Koki the year before.
Masuda digs into his large shaved ice treat, complete with ice cream and combination of fruits. “There weren’t any cameras,” his friend points out between bites. “Actually… it kinda looked like, they were, y’know…”
Nakamaru is only half-listening to him again. “What?” he prompts. He pops the honey toast in his mouth, and thinks some kind of fruit would be a nice touch. Strawberries, maybe?
“Y’know…”
The emphasis in his words makes Nakamaru look up at him. He gets the distinct feeling his friend is trying to convey something to him. Something about Taguchi and Kame? So he saw them together and it wasn’t for a job. Rare, but not unheard of. They all get along much better these days, having grown out of their rebellious teenage ways. Nakamaru doesn’t find it all that shocking that Kame would choose to treat Taguchi every now and then. Not only does Kame like to be spoiled, as Nakamaru unfortunately knows all too well, their youngest member likes to spoil too.
When Nakamaru remains silent, Masuda isn’t discouraged and leans in a bit closer. “They seemed pretty cozy,” he confides on bated breath.
Co… zy…? His brain stops there. “Are you trying to say they were on a date?” Nakamaru forces out the last word, it’s so unbelievable.
“Yes!” Masuda for some reason looks pleased with himself. “You’re not usually this slow.”
“Who in their right mind would jump to that conclusion about Kame and Taguchi?” Nakamaru feels like he has to scrub his brain. He hadn’t realized his best friend was so cruel as to plant such a disturbing notion in his head. “It’s Kame. And Taguchi.” He stresses their names like that says it all. “Why would you even say that?”
Masuda shrugs. “They were sitting pretty close. And there was,” his voice drops to a whisper, “touching.”
Funnily enough, this makes Nakamaru relax. “When does Kame not touch?” he says dryly.
This time Masuda points his spoon at him, but carefully so liquid doesn’t go flying. “The touching was both ways,” he continues.
“Oh… at least Taguchi kept his clothes on this time. The guy’s crazy when drunk.” Nakamaru dismisses Masuda’s observations with a wave of his hand. “If you’re going to gossip, please do so with something that’s at least fractionally believable.”
Masuda seems disappointed, but Nakamaru changes the subject to something less crazy to talk about, like his friend’s availability for their next survival game. Something niggles at the back of his head, like he overlooked something important, but he shrugs it off.
-
Crazy when drunk, huh?
Masuda doesn’t mention that he had spotted the disguised pair in the darkened corner of a quaint ice cream parlor, and the only drinks they had gotten were of the shake variety. Oh well. Masuda thinks of the couple’s warm smiles and affectionate touches. It’s only a matter of time.
So he lets his best friend wallow in denial for a little longer. And when Nakamaru inevitably comes to talk to him, horrified, Masuda will be ready with a smug ‘I told you so’.
-
The next day Nakamaru mentions it to the others, if only so his own opinion can be validated. He doesn’t appreciate the way Masuda had looked at him skeptically. Though it’s not like he’s actually worried or anything.
Koki laughs long and hard after his story. “Man, Massu’s imagination is out of this world,” he says.
“He never seemed like the type that would spread rumors,” Ueda comments.
Nakamaru frowns at Ueda’s critical tone. “He just wanted confirmation,” he says, defending his best friend. “Of course I told him he was wrong.”
“A date with Kazuya?” Taguchi’s voice booms from the other side of the room, full of enthusiasm and laughter. “Sounds fun!”
Kame is stiff with what is no doubt disapproval. “I don’t go on dates with people who write down every expenditure in a notebook,” he hisses. The bump under the table is definitely Kame giving Taguchi a swift kick in the knee.
Taguchi’s face merely crinkles in amusement as Kame continues glaring at him. Nakamaru looks between them, any doubts he had quickly disappearing. See, they’re not together. He turns back to his newspaper, content. All is right with the world.
-
“Where’s Taguchi?” Nakamaru asks, scribbling on a pad. “I need his lunch order too.”
Later that day, Nakamaru leaves and then returns to their dressing room, asking for their orders without preamble. He had run into their manager in the hallway and was asked to take their requests while Yamamoto-san answered an important call.
Ueda flicks through the schedule of remaining things they had to do for the day. “He got pulled into a meeting with Higashiyama-san,” he says disinterestedly.
Koki yawns, laying his head on the table with his arms as a makeshift pillow. “Just get Taguchi the katsudon. He’ll eat anything.”
Kame only has one ear on the conversation so his response is automatic rather than deliberate. “No, he doesn’t like that,” he says. “Get him yakisoba, then one plain onigiri on the side.”
Normally Kame would say curry, but he had already made it for Taguchi the night before. Taguchi doesn’t care about such things, but Kame prefers the taller man have some variety in his diet. So he goes with Taguchi’s next favorite. He then notices that everyone is looking at him strangely.
“What?” he asks. His mind traces back over the conversation. He hadn’t said anything odd. The rest of KAT-TUN share doubtful looks between each other and Kame again asks, “What?”
Koki opens his mouth, but seems to think better of whatever he is about to say because he gives him a placating smile and says, “Nothing, Kame-chan.”
Kame regards them all suspiciously, but they all go back to their own thing-Ueda to his perusal of the schedule, Koki to his quick nap and Nakamaru to relaying their orders to their manager. Having his own stuff to worry about-the printout of a proposed schedule for upcoming movie promotion sits innocently in front of him-Kame lets it go.
The food arrives an hour or so later, just in time as Taguchi bounds into the room, looking a bit weary but still tinged with excitement. He lights up when his gaze lands on the yakisoba and a corner of Kame’s lips twitch at his reaction.
“Ah, my favorite!” Plopping down in the seat next to Kame, Taguchi tears into the package and digs in with gusto. Kame wonders if he’s actually imagining it or there really are hearts in the taller man’s eyes.
“Kame ordered it,” Koki says slowly. He turns to Kame, forehead creased. “… How did you know?”
In that moment, Kame realizes the looks he had seen earlier were his groupmates doubting his knowledge regarding Taguchi’s tastes. Frustration at their cluelessness and anxiety over being found out war inside him and he falls back on his ingrained habit to deny, deny, deny.
“What, I read it in a magazine interview,” he says, trying to keep his voice even.
“.........”
“It was the only one around, okay?!” Kame snaps, perhaps a tad bit too defensively. No, no he is not panicking whatsoever. He is Kamenashi Kazuya and he is as cool as a cucumber. Wait, no, ice. As cool as ice. “I didn't ask for an hour long break.”
The awkward silence barely has a chance to fester when Taguchi speaks up around a mouthful of noodles, “You ordered this for me? Thanks!” He swallows and smiles at Kame brightly. “Kazuya loves me~”
Kame jerks his head around to stare at him, too shocked at Taguchi’s frank admission to react in any other way. What are you doing?!
His boyfriend’s expression reflects none of Kame’s own unease. Kame stiffens when he feels Taguchi’s leg brush against his under the table. It stays there, a warm presence at his side, reassuring and calming him.
Unaware of the silent interaction going on between them, the other three scoff at Taguchi and respond with comments all along the lines of “In your dreams!”. The stiff mood fades as things return to the status quo. For someone so often inept at reading the atmosphere, Taguchi sure knows how to smooth things over.
With the others distracted and squabbling over how hopeless he is, Taguchi leans towards him and whispers, “Then I guess dreams really do come true, huh.”
Kame laughs in spite of himself, and just like that, the last of his anxiety falls away.
-
The group still meets every now and then at the agency to discuss business, but it isn’t until several weeks later when they meet in private and just because. It’s all for one of Ueda’s famous gyoza and takoyaki parties. Ironically, the one person who has been wanting to go the most is unable to come.
An unexpected offer came up last minute and Taguchi is off to Thailand to promote a special television channel devoted to Japanese series broadcasts. Changing the day of the party seemed like a waste since it had taken forever just to find a date they would all be free.
So here Kame is, lounging on the couch of Ueda’s family room and trying not to think of a certain tall someone. Ueda disappears into the kitchen to fetch drinks while Koki starts pouring batter in the moderately sized takoyaki grill on the coffee table. Nakamaru, meanwhile, inspects the variety of fillings Ueda had prepared beforehand in small bowls.
Taguchi is supposed to be here, exclaiming over every little thing, eager to try out all sorts of strange flavors, buzzing around and being a general nuisance. Kame takes out his phone.
Kame
Mar 16, 2013 8:34PM (JST)
Guess where I am? At UEDA’S.
He makes sure to attach a picture of the still cooking takoyaki with the assortment of fillings in the background. Kame realizes this is probably unfair, but Taguchi needs to know what he’s missing. In case he thinks Kame can’t have fun without him or something equally ridiculous.
Taguchi
Mar 16, 2013 6:38PM (ICT)
Thailand is so pretty~ It’s like I’m here on vacation!
Taguchi attaches a picture of his own-one of the brilliant view from his hotel room, complete with an elaborate flower decoration obviously made for him by the local staff. Another image follows of a lavish banquet of food from tom yum goong to pad thai to fruit and sticky rice dumplings.
Kame purses his lips, frowns, and then immediately snags a wine bottle and a glass when Ueda passes by, having finally emerged from the kitchen with glassware and several kinds of drinks on a large tray. Kame pours himself a generous amount of the red liquid.
“Wow, the young master is serving us himself!” Koki exclaims with mock amazement when Ueda approaches him. “I feel so honored. Can I get a beer?”
Ueda plunks the tray on the side table next to the couch, just out of Koki’s reach. “Get it yourself,” he replies. He sits on the floor next to Nakamaru and uses a pair of chopsticks to choose the fillings he wants, dropping them into a few of the batter-filled circles on the grill.
Koki pouts and turns wide eyes on Nakamaru. “Yucchi…”
Nakamaru ignores him for all of five seconds before he sighs.
“I got it,” Kame says. He misses the surprised look Nakamaru sends his way, and instead stands up and goes over to the drinks. He refills his own glass, and then pours beer into one of the chilled glasses and hands it to Koki. Then he goes about taking charge of the grill to keep his mind occupied.
“Thanks.” Koki grins, relinquishing his duty. He takes a swig of beer and leans back against the seat cushions of the couch. “Aaah, being spoiled by Kame-chan is one of my favorite pastimes.”
Kame smiles a little at that. He enjoys taking care of people as much as he likes being taken care of when the mood suits him. He has a longer sip of wine and starts turning over a few of the takoyaki balls.
“Add in what you want too, Koki,” Kame says, “or Ueda and Nakamaru will decide them all.” He inspects the cooking takoyaki as the aforementioned pair continues to drop in the fillings they want.
That spurs Koki into action as if he had forgotten that very fact. He squeezes himself in between the two oldest members just to mess with them-Ueda pushes at him while Nakamaru bears with it-as he picks out the ingredients he prefers.
Kame watches all this, imagines a loud voice-“We have to put this in and this-yes, I’ve always wanted to try peanut butter-yaki!”-and discovers his glass is empty yet again. With a shrug, he pours in some more.
-
Junno is a bit bemused when he receives a phone call right around the time he is ready to settle down for the night. Kazuya’s name flashes at him and he answers immediately, wondering what it could be. It’s ten-thirty in Thailand, which means it’s already past midnight in Japan and really, Kazuya should be in bed by now.
“Hello?”
“Hey, you!” Kazuya sounds way too cheerful, a sure sign that something is off. “How are you?” There are familiar voices chatting in the background, and Junno remembers that his group is gathered together at Ueda’s.
“I’m fine,” Junno says. He focuses on Kazuya rather than on his desire to mope. He did enough of that before his flight to Thailand. “I was just about to go to bed.”
“Already?!” There’s a big, long sigh on the other end. “Oh yeah, you like sleeping early… even when I’m not ready for you to.”
Kazuya is no doubt pouting, and Junno smiles, a suspicion forming in his mind. “You should be sleeping too,” he says. Kazuya doesn’t get nearly enough sleep as he should, which is often a point of contention between them.
“But I’m not sleepy!” Kazuya protests loudly. “I’m having so much fun with all the wine and the takoyaki. And the wine.”
Aaaaah. Just as he thought.
Kazuya continues enthusiastically, “There’s takoyaki here with your name on it!”
“Then it’s sure to be delicious! Much yummier than regular takoyaki,” Junno says. His smile grows as he listens to his tipsy boyfriend. “I’m jealous.”
“You should be!” Kazuya declares sternly. “I tried putting in peanut butter because you mentioned it to me that one time, and you’re so crazy. But I did it anyway because it’s something you would do and you’re not here.”
There’s a little bit of wistfulness at the end there, and Junno’s hand twitches with a sudden longing to hug the shorter man miles away.
“It was weird like you, Junjun!”
Junjun? If he wasn’t sure Kazuya was drunk before, he is now.
Kazuya goes on with a chuckle that borders more on a giggle. “But that’s okay because I love you.”
Even after all this time, Junno’s heart still stutters in his chest. The words aren’t often said aloud, but when they are, Junno holds them close. “I-”
Kazuya interrupts before he can reciprocate. “I miss you lots! I can’t wait to see you.”
“Kame…?” Koki’s voice emerges from the background, clearly puzzled and maybe even a bit freaked out.
“Uh.” Kazuya pauses for a good, long moment as if just recalling he’s not alone. “I. It’s... my mom. I haven’t talked to her in ages.” Awareness creeps back into Kazuya’s tone and Junno isn’t surprised this situation is enough to sober him up at least a little.
Nakamaru’s incredulous tone is hard to miss. “You call your mom Junjun…?”
Junno doesn’t even try to stifle his chuckles and he knows Kazuya hears him when his boyfriend becomes flustered. “Um… sometimes? It’s a nickname!”
Even after Kazuya hastily hangs up on him, Junno laughs and laughs and laughs.
Taguchi
Mar 16, 2013 10:48PM (ICT)
p.s. imu too
-
“I come bearing gifts!”
Junno is back in Japan on Monday. He energetically greets his groupmates as he barrels through the door, presents at the ready. They all wince at the volume of his voice so early in the morning.
“Aren’t you supposed to be tired after an international flight?” Nakamaru asks, flipping through a newspaper. “There’s this thing called jet lag.”
Ueda dismisses Junno with a glance. “You’re not human,” he says.
Koki is the only one who looks at him, or rather what he’s carrying, with interest. He holds out both hands. “Yes, please,” he says.
Junno wastes no time handing out the souvenirs of packaged sweets as well as a few other local trinkets-colorful bows for Koki’s kids, seeds for Nakamaru’s mini garden and toys for Ueda’s pets. “For you, and you, and you,” he says. He had enjoyed shopping for them during his minimal free time.
In contrast to the other three seated around the long conference table, his boyfriend is at the back of the room, sitting very quietly on the couch and away from the hubbub. Junno walks over and stands in front of him. Kazuya doesn’t quite look at him.
“And you,” Junno concludes softly. He dangles his present in front of Kazuya’s face.
Kazuya’s eyes drift from his newspaper to the gift. The necklace is a simple one-a twisted black leather cord tied off with a carved bead. From it there hangs a white porcelain charm. The charm is an abstract shape, though it looks like something very close to a dove. Kazuya likes things with a little flair, but Junno chose this piece precisely because it didn’t draw attention to itself.
“I hope you like it,” he addresses the room at large, but keeps his eyes on Kazuya.
The shorter man still won’t look at him. Taguchi hesitates until he notices the red lightly dusting Kazuya’s cheeks. He’s… embarrassed? Kazuya’s drunken phone call a couple days prior comes back to him.
Chuckling, Junno sits down beside him on the couch. Kazuya tenses ever so slightly. Junno peeks at his face and catches his eye. His boyfriend reddens further but this time doesn’t look away. Junno holds his wrist up to draw Kazuya’s attention there. He shows off his new bracelet, a perfect match to his present for him.
A small, pleased smile flits across Kazuya’s mouth. The necklace slips from Junno’s grasp as Kazuya accepts it, their fingers skimming each other’s. Kazuya studies it for a while, rubbing his thumb along the smooth surface of the charm, before he puts it on.
Kazuya pauses. “Huh, Taguchi. I just realized that the necklace you got me matches your bracelet. Neat, huh?” he says, louder than usual. “It’s like we’re a COUPLE.”
The other three murmur sounds of agreement, too engrossed in their own souvenirs to pay Kazuya much mind.
“That’s great, Kame-chan,” Koki says distractedly, popping a candy in his mouth.
Junno muffles his snort so as not to incur Kazuya’s wrath.
Crossing his arms, Kazuya glares at all of them. “They’re impossible,” he mutters under his breath.
It’s actually rather funny to see Kazuya in knots over the whole thing, wanting the others to find out and yet not. It had been Kazuya who decided they must keep their relationship a secret even from the members, citing that dating a colleague was asking for trouble. Junno considers them all more than simply colleagues, but is content to follow Kazuya’s lead. Things will unfold at their own pace.
For now, Junno looks upon him with fond affection. Sometimes Kazuya tries way too hard when what he should be doing is relaxing.
“It looks good on you,” Junno says, a touch quieter than usual so the others won’t hear.
Kazuya turns away from them with a huff, and slumps back on the couch. “Thanks,” he grumbles. He fingers his new necklace while staring at Junno’s wrist. Then he seems to recall something.
Kazuya straightens and turns to him, his back facing the others. “Welcome back,” he says. He places his hand next to his on the couch cushion, their pinkies barely touching. A warm smile blossoms on his face, one only for Junno’s eyes.
Kazuya really doesn’t know how hard it is for him to hold back. Junno successfully keeps his hands off him and merely responds with his own smile, as bright as he can, when all he wants to do is reach out and pull him close.
“It’s good to be home.”
-
Paris, the city of high fashion, croissants and clandestine kisses under the Eiffel Tower, is made less romantic by the absence of someone to kiss. Kame, for the most part, enjoys it immensely and tries not to bite too viciously at his baguette when he strolls by the beach and the sounds of crashing waves bring with them the memory of his bandmates.
First Thailand and now Paris, it’s like you and Taguchi can’t stand being in the same place too long, huh.
Kame didn’t know what they had meant by it and he still doesn’t now, when he’s scrambling to slip away from the flock of seagulls chasing at his back. He tries to look cool about it but he imagines his fashionably jaunty steps end up looking like an odd shuffle judging by the French girls giggling at him from under their fetching berets.
Kame blushes a bit and offers them a wave-and says goodbye to the remainder of his baguette as one of the more daring gulls snatches it from his hand. He doesn’t even bother trying to recover his image after that. The girls wave back as they laugh even louder and Kame can only think of Taguchi’s booming chuckle, the way his mouth would spread impossibly wide at Kame’s expense, as he keeps walking. There’d probably be some pun about bread and gulls.
Bagel, Kame thinks with a soft laugh to himself and tightens his scarf as the salty wind blows stronger.
They travelled separately because they had different schedules. Different timings and different things to do. Different duties. Nothing more, nothing less.
The same part of him that wishes Taguchi’s hand was nearby to wrap around and warm his wonders at their differences and if the others really do have a point.
-
“Don’t you think you’re being a little too obvious?” Taguchi asks when he holds up the T-shirt Kame had brought back from him as a souvenir. It’s a designer brand, made of premium cotton, costs as much as twenty T-shirts of lesser brands, and displays a giant skull across the chest.
It looks as if it was pulled straight from Kame’s closet.
Which, undeniably, was the point.
“You don’t like it?” Kame snaps defensively, the same uncomfortable feeling festering in his chest. “It’s not like anyone will notice. They’re practically blind anyway…”
Taguchi tosses the T-shirt over a shoulder and crosses his arms in a posture that Kame is all too familiar with. It’s the body language code for We’re Going To Talk About This And There Is No Escape. Taguchi tilts his head to the side, a gentle smile on his face that detracts from the sternness so that he appears more like a wall of pillows and fluffy things than an unyielding tower of hot. Kame would be perfectly fine with both, really.
“If you want them to know,” Taguchi says with a shrug like it’s all so easy and obvious, “then just tell them, Kazuya.”
Kame huffs through his nostrils and tries to snatch the T-shirt back but Taguchi dodges.
“I like it.”
“You’re wrinkling it,” Kame returns.
“Great,” Taguchi says with a large smile that makes Kame want to give him a messy kiss, “that way it’ll look as if I rolled out of your bedroom.”
“We tried that already. Ueda thought you misplaced your clothes iron.” Kame doesn’t try to hide the bitterness in his voice and is offended when all Taguchi does is laugh. Because it’s so funny that no one thinks he’s compatible with his own boyfriend ahahahabloodyha. “It doesn’t bother you at all, does it? Nakamaru could set you up with his sister and you’d just smile and accept it, wouldn’t you?”
Kame doesn’t know when he started pacing angry steps across his bedroom but he stops when Taguchi replies, “But I like having you all to myself.”
Kame turns to him and rubs at his elbow.
“That’s unfair,” he says in a small voice soaked in apology.
Taguchi smiles. “You started it. Besides, Nakamaru would eat his own sweater before he’d let us get close to his sister. I think he’d vandalize all your posters for even suggesting it.”
Kame can’t stop a burp of laughter at the thought and sends Taguchi a squinty I know what you’re up to look. Taguchi sends back an innocent shrug and follows him to the bed where they sit silently, Kame staring at the shape of his feet on the floorboards and trying to make sense of his warring thoughts.
“It’s not like I don’t like having you all to myself either,” Kame begins and hurriedly looks up at Taguchi to assure him, “because I do.”
“I know,” Taguchi says simply. “You even scared Koki away.”
Kame feels himself go pink under Taguchi’s knowing smile and darts his eyes away again.
“It’s just that… I want them to figure it out. I want them-I want us to be a possibility, at least.”
“So you want them to know…” Kame nods as Taguchi speaks, “but you don’t want to tell them.”
Kame nods again even though he can hear the amusement laced in Taguchi’s voice. He lets it go because the big, gentle hand that strokes down his back is more fond than mocking.
“I sound crazy, huh?” Kame says through a sigh and shuts his eyes, trying to squeeze out the doubts that have stiffened his muscles into knots. Taguchi shouldn’t have to put up with this. “Sorry.”
He feels Taguchi’s lips press right at the corner of his eye, bending his eyelashes.
“Only a little crazy. But I like that.”
For a long moment, they sit silently on Kame’s bed. Taguchi rubs patient circles into his back and Kame plays with their hands, hearing the seconds tick by as he wraps his fingers around Taguchi’s longer ones.
“If no one can see us being together, then maybe...” Kame breathes out thickly, carefully so that the words don’t injure, “they’re right? What if we don’t work?”
The hand at his back stills in an incomplete semi-circle and Kame is about to panic and abort, push Taguchi on the bed and swallow his wounded retort-only it sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
Kame snaps his head up and narrows his eyes at Taguchi’s crinkling face.
“I’m being serious.”
“I know. It doesn’t help,” Taguchi replies through another gaping smile. He catches Kame’s fist before it can collide with his chest and laughs again. “Kazuya, if you cared about what others thought about your love life, you’d be married to an older woman by now. You hate being predictable.”
Kame’s lips pucker sourly at the implication that he’s only with Taguchi for the novelty. A new taste for the tall, dark and lame before he grows bored and moves to the next.
“So you think we don’t fit together either?” he challenges.
Just hours ago, they shared a dinner of pasta. Kame had cooked as Taguchi set the table, knowing exactly which drawer held which cutlery, and tried (and failed) to help by nearly burning the sauce. Kame whacked him with a spoon when he made a pun about living life on the edge and set him to work on chopping the veggies instead, because Taguchi is better with knives than he is with fire (“I’m too hot to handle,” Taguchi had said with a grin and Kame had rolled his eyes, ducking his head back to the stove with an unruly smile he knew Taguchi had already seen).
When all was made, Taguchi moved to Kame’s back and untied the apron Kame always forgot to remove. Kame laughed sheepishly and pecked him on the cheek. They ate, they laughed, they shared. Their fingers touched every time they passed the pasta, the sauce, the drink, the bread, every time they were in each other’s reach. They kissed tasting oregano and when Taguchi had leaned back, he said with a thoughtful look, “Try it with less salt next time.” Kame had thrown his napkin at him even though he agreed.
If that-if they-weren’t predictable, then Kame didn’t know what was. They fit, damnit. And Kame would dare anyone to prove otherwise.
Taguchi blinks, watching Kame carefully and then, with an arm sneaking up behind Kame’s shoulders, swiftly tilts them flat onto the bed. He hovers above Kame with a pleased smile that makes Kame’s toes curl, his blood sizzling like hot oil.
“I’d say we were made for each other but I think you’ve just sorted it out for yourself,” Taguchi murmurs, his eyes growing darker with focus in a way that they never do outside the bedroom. “I love it when you love us.”
Kame swallows. “Now you’re definitely going to wrinkle it.”
He grabs the T-shirt off Taguchi’s shoulder and tosses it somewhere before Taguchi leans down. It’s limited edition, shockingly expensive, and Kame had to throw away two of his toothbrushes to fit the T-shirt into his luggage. At the moment, however, Kame can’t care less. The fewer clothes they have between them, the better.
“We really do fit perfectly,” Kame pants an hour later, lying sated and limp over Taguchi’s bare torso which quakes with an agreeing hum.
Now he only has to make the others see.
… Or suspect, at the very least.
-
Junno is sitting in the dressing room, flipping through a glossy sports magazine and considering whether he should take up hiking as his new hobby of the month. He’s finished his solo shoot and has already changed back into his own clothes, his hair now messier and the lip gloss rubbed away. The bracelet he had brought from Thailand dangles at his wrist as he waits for Kazuya’s shoot to end.
He flips the page to see an article on kayaking and changes his mind for the third time in the span of ten minutes. He wonders if he should ask Kazuya for advice and smiles to himself. That’s just asking for a lecture on baseball and while Junno loves Kazuya’s bright-eyed excitement that flares at the very mention of the sport, he’s heard too much already.
Not that having a baseball fanatic for a lover doesn’t have its perks, Junno thinks, remembering the curve of Kazuya’s muscled arms, the slope of his strong shoulders sliding under his roaming palms…
Junno doesn’t understand what he’s reading.
He tosses the magazine aside just as the door swings open, slamming shut just seconds afterward as a blurry figure storms inside, a tornado of sculpted brown curls, velvet, hands and heat. So much heat.
Hurricane Kazuya is the last thought that crosses Junno’s mind before it short circuits under Kazuya’s assault. He’s jerked up into a stand by rough hands at his collar, Kazuya’s body latching against his entire length, a desperate mouth roving messily along his face. Briefly, because it’s not possible to breathe let alone hold onto a thought when Kazuya is clogging up his senses, Junno wonders if he’s being eaten alive.
I’ll give you a tummy ache, Junno chides silently and holds on, lets Kazuya have whatever he needs as he tries to keep him together.
Kazuya moans, loud and deep, and that’s all it takes for Junno to be swept under.
He resurfaces just as suddenly with a sudden push that sends him flying back onto the couch and he sits there panting and gaping, about to ask Kazuya if this is his new form of revenge for hogging up the bathroom this morning, when the sounds of footsteps filter into his ear.
Not two seconds later, the door opens.
Koki pauses, standing still in the door frame.
Junno tracks the movement of his eyes, how they trace over Kazuya’s disheveled clothes, Kazuya’s hair in uncharacteristic disarray because Junno’s hands had a mind of their own, and doesn’t have to look down at himself to know that he looks equally debauched.
His mouth feels wet.
There’s no one else in the room.
On a scale of one to ten, ten being So Highly Incriminating A Monkey Could Put It Together, the situation is worthy of a twelve.
Only, Junno notices when he looks up cautiously at Kazuya who is watching Koki with a strange sort of expectancy, Kazuya doesn’t look half as stricken as he should. No horror or embarrassment, just a redness dying his cheeks.
Well.
Junno turns back to Koki with a tiny amused smile twitching at the corner of his lips and waits for the verdict.
It’s hard to tell whether Koki does or doesn’t disappoint when, after squinting back and forth between them, he asks, “Were you stretching again, Kame-chan?”
Junno resists turning to see Kazuya’s face only because he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back his laughter and that would only add fuel to Kazuya’s murderous fire.
“…Seriously?” Kazuya deadpans, voice flat with disbelief before it revives with forced enthusiasm. “I mean y-yeah.”
From his periphery, Junno sees Kazuya’s arms stretch in demonstration and he grins.
“But Kazuya is already flexible.”
He doesn’t flinch when Kazuya kicks at his shin.
When Koki leaves, after offering a ride back that Junno declines with a sunny smile, Kazuya drops down next to him in a defeated heap, his head in his hands.
“That’s it. I give up.”
Junno smiles at his dramatics.
“You wanted them to catch us, didn’t you? That’s why you left the door unlocked.”
“Not that it made a difference,” Kazuya grumbles. Junno wonders if it registers in Kazuya’s mind that he just risked his professionalism to prove them real. But probably not, which is a good thing because his lover is just the right amount of insane without digesting that extra tidbit.
Junno reaches out, an arm wrapping around Kazuya’s shoulder and tugging him in close. He kisses the top of Kazuya’s head, the excessive hairspray tickling his nose, and waits for Kazuya’s gaze to lift.
“How about we make out on stage next time?”
Kazuya rewards him with an eye roll and a huff of amusement that he tries to hide with a slight elbow dig at Junno’s side. Junno grins back thinking I love you.
-
Nakamaru is digging through his bag to find his wallet-which he swears he brought with him this morning and desperately needs because agreeing to lunch with Ueda means that he’ll be the one paying; a fact he learned through years of experience-when he hears someone enter the dressing room.
The smell of vanilla that wafts into the room is so poignant and familiar that Nakamaru doesn’t even look up when he extends his greetings.
“Hey, Kame. You wouldn’t happen to have extra cash on you, would you?”
“Don’t know but I’ll gladly ask him for you.”
Nakamaru pauses in his hunt and pivots around mechanically to face a grinning Taguchi. He stares at him as he seats himself near the table and pulls out his PSP.
“You’re not Kame,” Nakamaru says dumbly.
“My height gave it away, didn’t it?” Taguchi laughs.
Nakamaru frowns. “But you smell like him. That’s Kame’s smell.”
Nakamaru realizes he sounds slightly deranged and stalker-like but, just as some people’s hips don’t lie, his nose doesn’t either and he knows that smell. Kame has been wearing the same perfume for years, without fail, and pointedly refused to share a bottle of the fragrance when Nakamaru had asked because he was a sucker for vanilla.
“Why do you smell like Kame?” Nakamaru asks more insistently, his world beginning to tilt.
Taguchi shrugs and his bracelet jingles when he turns on the PSP with his thumb. Nakamaru remembers seeing the same jewelry design dangling around Kame’s neck and he stumbles back, his hand clutching the makeup counter for support.
“I guess his scent must have rubbed off,” Taguchi says offhandedly.
“R-rubbed off? You smell like him all over. How could you possibly-”
Nakamaru cuts off in a choking wheeze as he remembers Masuda and the rumors and the carpooling, and one after the other, the dots begin to connect.
“Nakamaru?” Taguchi asks innocently but the creases that spread from the corners of his eyes betray him.
Nakamaru releases a horrified whisper, “Oh. My. God.”
-
Junno wonders at himself for not trying his hand out before because the fallout is more amusing than anything.
“I knew it ALL ALONG,” Nakamaru shouts from where he stands accusingly in the center of the dressing room. Ueda and Koki watch from the sidelines, still recovering from the news. Koki is silent and pale, save for the blush that dusts his cheeks whenever he catches Junno’s or Kazuya’s eyes.
Ueda, on the other hand, doesn’t dare open his own.
“My eyes, my eyes. Ow. Owowow.”
“You haven’t seen anything,” Kazuya scoffs before jumping back to Nakamaru, a vicious victory gleaming in his face. “And you. You thought we were playing video games in the janitor’s closet. In the dark. When we didn’t even have video games.”
Nakamaru crosses his arms in a way that would make their manager proud.
“Well, I couldn’t exactly see from that angle since you were sitting in Taguchi’s lap…” There’s an awkward pause in which Nakamaru blinks and never has he looked more like a grandpa than when he walks weakly over to the couch and perches gingerly on the armrest, a pained I’m too old for this expression contorting his face. “Excuse me while I bleach my brain.”
Across from him, Ueda walks into the wall. For a moment, they all watch him stumble and curse and walk blindly into the same spot again.
“Flexible,” Koki suddenly says into the silence, a metaphorical light bulb flashing to life above his head, and promptly turns beet red to match Kazuya.
“Very flexible,” Junno intones.
On cue, Nakamaru curls up with a whimper just as Ueda’s screech fills the room.
“Drama queens,” Kazuya mutters acidly and Junno can only laugh at the irony.
Omake
“Tsk. Sit still. You ruined it again.” Kame adjusts the angle of Taguchi’s head and weaves his hands into Taguchi’s dark cropped hair, combing the strands into obedience with his fingers.
Once Taguchi’s hair has been styled, Kame lets his fingers linger along the soft skin at the nape of his neck, stroking it with gentle fondness. He quickly drops his hand when Taguchi tilts his head back, his upside down smile looking miles away from a frown.
“I’ll take that as a thank you.”
Kame flushes and looks away, saying petulantly, “I can’t believe your method worked, of all things…”
Taguchi’s hand finds his just as it’s prone to do.
“Sometimes, subtlety is the key,” Taguchi says with a twinkling smile. His thumb rubs a figure on the back of Kame’s hand, probably something dumb like a heart because Taguchi is lame like that and Kame loves him that way.
“Well, when a brick to the head fails… You’re just lucky Nakamaru keeps stalker tabs on me,” Kame says and pulls back his hand to remove a loose strand of hair sticking to Taguchi’s collar.
“Kame’s touching Taguchi again,” Ueda suddenly announces behind them. Loudly.
Kame jumps back with a startled, “Wha-?”
“Can you not keep your hands to yourselves for one second? What are you, virgins?” Koki says from the table with an expression of disgust.
“I was only plucking off a strand of hair!” Kame shouts, his face heating on its own accord, as if he had been caught lifting Taguchi’s skirt which was ridiculous (except not really because Taguchi had fantastic legs and Kame would, only Taguchi favored pants more).
“Plucking a-for the love of-WE’RE AT WORK,” Nakamaru bursts out and stomps over to slide between him and Taguchi like a great wall of prudish argyle. Taguchi waves over his shoulder.
Furious, Kame swivels around and sees Ueda smirking back.
“You little-”
“Kame just tried reaching for Taguchi’s hand,” Ueda says coolly.
“KAME.”
“I did not.”
“This is sexual harassment.”
“I’m quite okay with it, actually.”
“No one asked you, Taguchi.”
“Hey, lay off him.”
“Virgins,” Koki punctuates.
“Flexible,” Taguchi reminds.
“My EYES,” Ueda wails and Kame sends Taguchi an adoring smile.
“Thank you.”