JE/HSJ | Four Pictures the Paparazzi Never Took & One That Yabu Took Instead
title: Four Pictures the Paparazzi Never Took & One That Yabu Took Instead
fandom; pairing: JE/HSJ; mostly platonic Yamajima
rating: PG
notes: For the Yamajima-thon. Getting better at this drabbling business, yay.
disclaimer: Checked this morning, and I am still not Johnny Kitagawa.
one.
Yamada tells Popolo that Yuto is bad at waking up, but, surprisingly enough, the younger boy is much more of a morning person than Yamada himself. Yamada is always bleary and only half-awake when the two of them meet up to go to work together, and especially so this morning because he’d been up into the wee morning hours studying his new drama role like Julie-san had asked. So when he doesn’t see the stray acorn in his way as the two of them approach the train station and subsequently loses his footing on said stray acorn, he cannot truly be blamed.
And he would have gone down like a sack of flour had Yuto not been extra-keenly aware of his friend that morning (ever since Yamada almost walked into his front gate - twice - before successfully stepping onto the sidewalk to greet Yuto groggily). He reaches out to catch the other boy with one arm and twists his body around to support Yamada’s weight; thus, instead of kissing the floor, Yamada’s face lands squarely against Yuto’s shoulder.
“… ow,” comes the piteous groan a beat later, but he made no move to shift.
Yuto laughs, though it is strained with concern. “Yama-chan is really bad in the mornings, ne?”
“Shut up.” It is half-hearted and muffled by Yuto’s jacket.
“You went to bed late again, didn’t you?” Yuto’s voice is gentle and butterfly-light, just like the fingers he rests on Yamada’s shoulder. “Do you want me to call Yabu-kun? Or Julie-san; I’ll tell her that … ”
“What? I’m too tired to work today?” Yamada’s laugh is bitter and hot against Yuto’s shoulder and Yuto is silent. “No, I’m fine. Just … give me second,” and he takes a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.”
“Of course, ne.” Yuto refrains from pointing out that it has been almost a minute since they’ve held that odd tableau and that for every extra second, they risk some prowling paparazzi camera flashing off to the side and a splash page in tomorrow’s tabloid magazines.
Five seconds and another deep breath later, Yamada shifts and pulls away. “Thank you,” he says, crooking a small smile at his friend.
Yuto responds with his trademark, brilliant smile back. “Of course! And Yama-chan can always lean on me if you want! Super Yuto to the rescue!”
“Baka,” is the affectionate, half-amused answer he gets, although Yamada does remain closer than usual as they make their daily trek to the Johnny’s Jimusho building.
two.
It’s raining; a heavy torrent that falls from the sky in sheets. That is no surprise though; the weather forecaster had warned of it on television just that morning, after all. What is surprising is the boy (on the verge of being a young man, really) standing just beyond the doors of a large office building, the fat drops of water pounding on top of his clear plastic umbrella. His sneakers are getting wet, but he hardly seems to notice or, if does feel the wetness seeping in, to care.
A few minutes pass, during which the boy’s jeans get soaked up to the ankles, and then there’s a movement. Another boy, shorter and sturdier, comes out from the building, hood up as he apparently forgot his umbrella on the kitchen table this morning. He looks up, pauses in surprise upon seeing the boy with the umbrella (waiting, waiting), and tilts his head in a question.
The other boy smiles and gives an answer that is lost to the storm, but not to his friend apparently because the smile is returned, though not without a wry shaking of the head. A half- shrug, and the umbrella is held out so his friend can duck under it with him. See? the sideways glance says, it’s big enough for both us.
And it is perhaps a good thing the storm is raging so fiercely because all the paparazzi cameramen that regularly prowled the Johnny’s building had given up for the day, surrendering in the face of the wet and cold and grey.
three.
This is the picture the cameraman gets:
Nakajima Yuto and Yamada Ryosuke emerging from the jimusho building and heading off to the train station together. Yamada is wearing sunglasses, and the two of them are wearing matching beanies. They look a little worn, but not exhausted; Yuto has his iPod in hand and looks like he is scrolling through his playlists for something to listen to on the ride home.
That is the picture that is taken, and it is the one that will be published in the next paparazzi compilation on the Johnny idols.
This is the photo that the cameraman does not get:
Minutes after they cross the busy, Tokyo intersection, Yuto looks up from his iPod and makes a remark. It surprises Yamada into laughter, and Yuto soon follows suite; for a sweet, lingering moment, they are just fifteen-year-old boys laughing at a random joke that somehow seems like the funniest thing in the world at the time. The weariness from the day’s photoshoot falls away from them as they laugh, at each other and with each other, their grins flashing clear and crisp and bright in the late summer sun. Yamada’s hands are clapped together in his glee and Yuto points at something, which causes the two of them to break into a fresh round of ringing laughter that has started to lose its childish highness and to settle into something lower (but not quite yet, not quite yet; they are still just boys).
It is a moment of pure, unadulterated delight found in a chance observation and comment, and it really is too bad the cameraman thought his prize garnered those precious few minutes earlier because this - this - is one of the rarest and, thus, most precious shots that the paparazzi can take of a Johnny’s.
four.
As graceful as Yamada is at the fluid, boneless dances the jimusho demands of him, there are times when Yuto wonders if somehow Yamada uses up all his grace onstage and is left with none for his daily, everyday needs.
Such as today, when Yamada walks in and promptly trips over Morimoto’s hamster ball, underestimates his reach when he grabs at the closest chair for support and ends up crashing onto the floor with the chair in an undignified heap of limbs.
A noise that sounds suspiciously like laughter escapes from Yuto before he can help it and then, upon seeing Yamada’s exasperated expression, he stops trying and his laugh bounces off the walls of the still-relatively empty dressing room. Still, being a good friend and a good person, he stands up from the couch to go help his unfortunate friend up.
“Wow, you’re lucky the paparazzi can’t hide in here, Yama-chan,” he says as he bends down and offers the older boy his hand, grinning widely.
“Shut up,” Yamada grumbles, but he accepts the hand and hoists himself up gingerly. This whole puberty business could go die in a fire already as far as he was concerned.
Yuto pats his shoulder comfortingly and hides another smile.
five.
It’s been a long day. They’ve had two interviews, two photoshoots, and a CM shooting, and all of JUMP is ready to just go home and pass out on their beds. In fact, most of the members have already gotten to the latter part while the jimusho’s van is driving all of them to the train station.
Yamada and Yuto are leaning against each other, sleeping. Yamada’s left cheek is going to have the knitted patterns of Yuto’s sweater imprinted on when he gets home, and Yuto’s nose wriggles every now and then as Yamada breathes and his hair just brushes against the other boy’s face. It is such an adorably peaceful scene that Yabu, tired as he is, feels compelled to fish out his cellphone and take a quick snapshot.
He uploads it to the nikki before passing out himself later that night.
(end)
Unbeta'd, so edits would be showered with love and gratitude. XD
fandom; pairing: JE/HSJ; mostly platonic Yamajima
rating: PG
notes: For the Yamajima-thon. Getting better at this drabbling business, yay.
disclaimer: Checked this morning, and I am still not Johnny Kitagawa.
one.
Yamada tells Popolo that Yuto is bad at waking up, but, surprisingly enough, the younger boy is much more of a morning person than Yamada himself. Yamada is always bleary and only half-awake when the two of them meet up to go to work together, and especially so this morning because he’d been up into the wee morning hours studying his new drama role like Julie-san had asked. So when he doesn’t see the stray acorn in his way as the two of them approach the train station and subsequently loses his footing on said stray acorn, he cannot truly be blamed.
And he would have gone down like a sack of flour had Yuto not been extra-keenly aware of his friend that morning (ever since Yamada almost walked into his front gate - twice - before successfully stepping onto the sidewalk to greet Yuto groggily). He reaches out to catch the other boy with one arm and twists his body around to support Yamada’s weight; thus, instead of kissing the floor, Yamada’s face lands squarely against Yuto’s shoulder.
“… ow,” comes the piteous groan a beat later, but he made no move to shift.
Yuto laughs, though it is strained with concern. “Yama-chan is really bad in the mornings, ne?”
“Shut up.” It is half-hearted and muffled by Yuto’s jacket.
“You went to bed late again, didn’t you?” Yuto’s voice is gentle and butterfly-light, just like the fingers he rests on Yamada’s shoulder. “Do you want me to call Yabu-kun? Or Julie-san; I’ll tell her that … ”
“What? I’m too tired to work today?” Yamada’s laugh is bitter and hot against Yuto’s shoulder and Yuto is silent. “No, I’m fine. Just … give me second,” and he takes a deep breath. “I’ll be fine.”
“Of course, ne.” Yuto refrains from pointing out that it has been almost a minute since they’ve held that odd tableau and that for every extra second, they risk some prowling paparazzi camera flashing off to the side and a splash page in tomorrow’s tabloid magazines.
Five seconds and another deep breath later, Yamada shifts and pulls away. “Thank you,” he says, crooking a small smile at his friend.
Yuto responds with his trademark, brilliant smile back. “Of course! And Yama-chan can always lean on me if you want! Super Yuto to the rescue!”
“Baka,” is the affectionate, half-amused answer he gets, although Yamada does remain closer than usual as they make their daily trek to the Johnny’s Jimusho building.
two.
It’s raining; a heavy torrent that falls from the sky in sheets. That is no surprise though; the weather forecaster had warned of it on television just that morning, after all. What is surprising is the boy (on the verge of being a young man, really) standing just beyond the doors of a large office building, the fat drops of water pounding on top of his clear plastic umbrella. His sneakers are getting wet, but he hardly seems to notice or, if does feel the wetness seeping in, to care.
A few minutes pass, during which the boy’s jeans get soaked up to the ankles, and then there’s a movement. Another boy, shorter and sturdier, comes out from the building, hood up as he apparently forgot his umbrella on the kitchen table this morning. He looks up, pauses in surprise upon seeing the boy with the umbrella (waiting, waiting), and tilts his head in a question.
The other boy smiles and gives an answer that is lost to the storm, but not to his friend apparently because the smile is returned, though not without a wry shaking of the head. A half- shrug, and the umbrella is held out so his friend can duck under it with him. See? the sideways glance says, it’s big enough for both us.
And it is perhaps a good thing the storm is raging so fiercely because all the paparazzi cameramen that regularly prowled the Johnny’s building had given up for the day, surrendering in the face of the wet and cold and grey.
three.
This is the picture the cameraman gets:
Nakajima Yuto and Yamada Ryosuke emerging from the jimusho building and heading off to the train station together. Yamada is wearing sunglasses, and the two of them are wearing matching beanies. They look a little worn, but not exhausted; Yuto has his iPod in hand and looks like he is scrolling through his playlists for something to listen to on the ride home.
That is the picture that is taken, and it is the one that will be published in the next paparazzi compilation on the Johnny idols.
This is the photo that the cameraman does not get:
Minutes after they cross the busy, Tokyo intersection, Yuto looks up from his iPod and makes a remark. It surprises Yamada into laughter, and Yuto soon follows suite; for a sweet, lingering moment, they are just fifteen-year-old boys laughing at a random joke that somehow seems like the funniest thing in the world at the time. The weariness from the day’s photoshoot falls away from them as they laugh, at each other and with each other, their grins flashing clear and crisp and bright in the late summer sun. Yamada’s hands are clapped together in his glee and Yuto points at something, which causes the two of them to break into a fresh round of ringing laughter that has started to lose its childish highness and to settle into something lower (but not quite yet, not quite yet; they are still just boys).
It is a moment of pure, unadulterated delight found in a chance observation and comment, and it really is too bad the cameraman thought his prize garnered those precious few minutes earlier because this - this - is one of the rarest and, thus, most precious shots that the paparazzi can take of a Johnny’s.
four.
As graceful as Yamada is at the fluid, boneless dances the jimusho demands of him, there are times when Yuto wonders if somehow Yamada uses up all his grace onstage and is left with none for his daily, everyday needs.
Such as today, when Yamada walks in and promptly trips over Morimoto’s hamster ball, underestimates his reach when he grabs at the closest chair for support and ends up crashing onto the floor with the chair in an undignified heap of limbs.
A noise that sounds suspiciously like laughter escapes from Yuto before he can help it and then, upon seeing Yamada’s exasperated expression, he stops trying and his laugh bounces off the walls of the still-relatively empty dressing room. Still, being a good friend and a good person, he stands up from the couch to go help his unfortunate friend up.
“Wow, you’re lucky the paparazzi can’t hide in here, Yama-chan,” he says as he bends down and offers the older boy his hand, grinning widely.
“Shut up,” Yamada grumbles, but he accepts the hand and hoists himself up gingerly. This whole puberty business could go die in a fire already as far as he was concerned.
Yuto pats his shoulder comfortingly and hides another smile.
five.
It’s been a long day. They’ve had two interviews, two photoshoots, and a CM shooting, and all of JUMP is ready to just go home and pass out on their beds. In fact, most of the members have already gotten to the latter part while the jimusho’s van is driving all of them to the train station.
Yamada and Yuto are leaning against each other, sleeping. Yamada’s left cheek is going to have the knitted patterns of Yuto’s sweater imprinted on when he gets home, and Yuto’s nose wriggles every now and then as Yamada breathes and his hair just brushes against the other boy’s face. It is such an adorably peaceful scene that Yabu, tired as he is, feels compelled to fish out his cellphone and take a quick snapshot.
He uploads it to the nikki before passing out himself later that night.
(end)
Unbeta'd, so edits would be showered with love and gratitude. XD