fic - Johnnys & Associates - The Progression of Familiarity
Title: The Progression of Familiarity
Author: virdant
Length: 1,469 words; one-shot
Rating: G/PG
Genre: Gen, UCSD!AU
Pairing: PiKame
Summary: Kazuya and Tomohisa had been in the same middle school years ago; Kazuya had been prone to overworking even then, and Tomohisa would sit with him and they would study middle school chemistry and physics and biology together, talking about how nervous they are about clicking strikers.
Warning: UCSD!AU; so KAT-TUN are chemists and NewS are Engineers.
Notes: For muu_chan for her birthday. UCSD!AU (Brief explaination of it: JE kids are all in UCSD, KAT-TUN are chem majors spread throughout the six colleges, NewS are Engineers, Arashi are Bio majors, Yamapi & Jin are Muir roommates, Kame visits them often because he's roommates with Ryo and Ryo is mean to him... uh, Kame's in Revelle, so he has HUM, the backstory I have so far is on my personal LJ and probably is not going to be cross-posted.)
The Progression of Familiarity
Kamenashi and Yamashita had been in the same middle school, even if neither of them really remembered now. They had been close, but not particularly. Shuji and Akira, some people called them, because there had been a pop group had been moderately popular during that time and Kame looked like Shuji only more awkward and nervous and Yamapi sometimes, when he frowned a certain way, looked like Akira from the same group. But Yamapi and Kame hadn't been like Shuji and Akira; Shuji was careful and poised, and Kame was just learning how to fit in his own skin.
Yamashita Tomohisa. Yamapi ran his tongue over the name. Kusano Akira. Different, yet with such similar faces.
“Shuji,” Yamapi said to Kame, watching Kamenashi as he bent over his o-chem book. “Shuji-kun.”
“I'm not Shuji,” Kamenashi replied, a blue 0.3-mm pen in hand and eyes focused on Yamapi's gen-chem textbook. Kame would read Yamapi's textbook, highlighting key phrases and writing notes in the margins, and later, the night before the final, Yamapi would flip through his notes-covered in Jin's doodles-and a photocopy of Kamenashi's notes, actually legible, with the professor's podcast in his ears. Finally, he would pick up his textbook, that monstrosity, and read Kame's careful notes written in blue 0.3-mm pen.
Yamapi frowned. “I know that, Kazuya.”
That made Kamenashi look up from the textbook. “Kazuya?” he echoed.
“Kazuya,” Yamapi said decidedly, peering over Kame's shoulder from where he lay sprawled on his bed. Kame sat straight in Yamapi's chair at Yamapi's desk fiddling with Yamapi's textbook. Yamapi decided that he liked seeing Kame seated there like he belonged.
Kamenashi studied a sentence in the textbook carefully, eyes reading the words but not registering any of it. “You might as well call me Shuji,” he said carefully. “Again.” He re-read the sentence: something about thermodynamics and information he really should be committing to memory, but he can't focus, not with the way Akira was hovering over his shoulder again.
Kame and Yamapi had been in the same middle school years ago; they had spent their lunches on the roof eating with Horikita Maki-who was quiet and a bit awkward but had a smile brighter than the sun-and their afternoons at the library, just the three of them with their books open. Horikita liked social studies, and would curl up with a book on history or psychology while Yamapi leaned over Kame and protested that there was no way that he could end up with so much product, didn't he take into account limiting reactants?
Horikita Maki had called them Shuji and Akira first.
“What if I don't want to?” Yamapi asked. “What if I don't want to call you Shuji and want to call you Kazuya?”
Kazuya looked up from a diagram on activation energy. “Then I suppose you can call me Kazuya,” he said, but his eyes were flat and Yamapi knew that he was remembering when it hadn't been Yamashita-kun and Kamenashi-kun and Horikita-chan, but Akira and Shuji and Nobuta. And when the novelty of Akira and Shuji and Nobuta had slipped away like sand swept away by ocean tides, it had been Tomohisa and Kazuya and Maki.
And then it had been Tomohisa and Maki.
Tomohisa smiled. “Kazuya,” he said, and it was like back then, when Maki had been next to him, her fingers just barely touching Tomohisa's sleeve. “I... I want you to know that Maki and I are dating,” he had said then. Now, he simply poked Kazuya's cheek. “You and Maki would be cute together,” he said flippantly.
Kazuya looked up. “What?” he asked, and his voice was as distant as it had been back then.
Tomohisa laughed. “Yeah. Have you talked to her at all recently?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
There really wasn't a good answer for that. When Kazuya thought about it, there really was no reason to be avoiding Horikita Maki, who . “Just never really felt like it I guess?” he suggested, tentative. What was with Tomohisa today, bringing up old memories of middle school? Yamapi, he reminded himself; Tomohisa was middle school, and now he was Yamashita-kun, or Yamapi if Kazuya was feeling particularly intimate.
Kazuya sighed. None of the words were making any sense right now; thermodynamics simply wasn't clicking his brain, and he didn't know what to say to Yamapi.
“You work too hard,” Tomohisa said.
Tomohisa again. Kazuya's brain was slow today if he couldn't keep his mind focused on one thing. Tomohisa wasn't helping, he never helped. He was always there, a nagging presence in his mind.
“Stop thinking,” Tomohisa said. “Stop thinking.” He reached towards Kazuya, his fingers warm against Kazuya's wrist. “Stop worrying, alright? The next midterm's not until two weeks later; it'd be good to take a break.”
“We don't have time to take breaks,” Kazuya said tightly. He was juggling a science major and baseball intermurals and HUM was kicking his ass because his TA hated him, and he was taking five classes instead of the expected four, and he wanted an A, thanks very much.
Yamapi shook his head, tugging more firmly on Kazuya's wrist. “No, Kazuya. You just think that way, but it's not true.” He pulled Kazuya away from the textbook, and it shouldn't have been so easy to move a fully grown man, but Kazuya was always too thin for his own good. “Come on,” he said, tugging Kazuya close to him.
“Where's Jin?” Kazuya asked distantly, closing Tomohisa's textbook and leaning into him. It was easy, almost too easy, to stop thinking about thermodynamics and to just relax in the memory of middle school, where grades didn't matter and there was high school to start working hard.
“Out,” Tomohisa said, because he knew how much Kazuya needed to have things in control. “It's fine.”
“I'm not...” Kazuya began.
“I know,” Tomohisa said. “I know you're not trying to be difficult. But Kazuya... Kazuya, don't worry, alright?” He smiled, and Kazuya smiled back, relaxing. “Don't worry, Kazuya. Take a nap, alright? I'll wake you up in an hour, and you can go back to studying, kay?”
Kazuya and Tomohisa had been in the same middle school years ago; Kazuya had been prone to overworking even then, and Tomohisa would sit with him and they would study middle school chemistry and physics and biology together, talking about how nervous they are about clicking strikers. But even then, Tomohisa had been somebody special; Tomohisa had been the popular one, and Kazuya had been Tomohisa's friend who always looked uncomfortable in his own skin. They would chat on MSN until Maki came online after her piano lessons, and then the three of them would chat about homework and upcoming quizes until Kazuya was no longer a tight ball of panic but relaxed enough to fall asleep.
Kazuya frowned, but Tomohisa was already tugging him onto the bed and tucking him under blankets. “I'm not sure about this,” Kazuya said.
“Close your eyes,” Tomohisa said in reply, adjusting the blankets. “Rest.”
“Yamapi,” he began.
Tomohisa pressed his fingers in a fox hand. “Kon,” he murmured, pressing the fox head to Kazuya's cheek. “Good night, Shuji.”
Kazuya blinked up at him. “One hour,” he murmured. “Wake me up. Alright, Akira?”
“I promise, Shuji.”
Shuji and Akira had been in the same middle school years ago. They had been best friends, the two of them, even if Shuji was always embarrassed by Akira's antics and Akira was perpetually around Shuji. Shuji had always been so tense, so awkward that Akira couldn't help but want to make him relax. It was easy for the two of them to be Shuji and Akira (with Nobuta on the side); as Shuji and Akira, they were best friends who would never let each other go. As Kamenashi and Yamashita-Kame and Yamapi, Kazuya and Tomohisa-they were friends who would forget each other.
But Shuji and Akira-Kazuya and Tomohisa, Kame and Yamapi, Kamenashi and Yamashita-had been in the same middle school years ago. Now, they didn't remember how Akira had slept over in Shuji's bed, the two of them tangled with each other, they didn't remember how Kazuya and Tomohisa had spent their nights chatting with Maki, they didn't remember how Kame and Yamapi had met each other and Horikita at the water fountains during lunch. Kamenashi didn't remember any of this-he didn't want to, remembering just reminded him of lonely high school years where Yamashita-kun didn't call or MSN or write-but he was willing to try.
“'Kay, Akira.”
End.
Masterlist of fandoms here
Masterlist of Jpop fanfiction here
More UCSD!AU fanfiction here at the UCSD!AU tag
Author: virdant
Length: 1,469 words; one-shot
Rating: G/PG
Genre: Gen, UCSD!AU
Pairing: PiKame
Summary: Kazuya and Tomohisa had been in the same middle school years ago; Kazuya had been prone to overworking even then, and Tomohisa would sit with him and they would study middle school chemistry and physics and biology together, talking about how nervous they are about clicking strikers.
Warning: UCSD!AU; so KAT-TUN are chemists and NewS are Engineers.
Notes: For muu_chan for her birthday. UCSD!AU (Brief explaination of it: JE kids are all in UCSD, KAT-TUN are chem majors spread throughout the six colleges, NewS are Engineers, Arashi are Bio majors, Yamapi & Jin are Muir roommates, Kame visits them often because he's roommates with Ryo and Ryo is mean to him... uh, Kame's in Revelle, so he has HUM, the backstory I have so far is on my personal LJ and probably is not going to be cross-posted.)
The Progression of Familiarity
Kamenashi and Yamashita had been in the same middle school, even if neither of them really remembered now. They had been close, but not particularly. Shuji and Akira, some people called them, because there had been a pop group had been moderately popular during that time and Kame looked like Shuji only more awkward and nervous and Yamapi sometimes, when he frowned a certain way, looked like Akira from the same group. But Yamapi and Kame hadn't been like Shuji and Akira; Shuji was careful and poised, and Kame was just learning how to fit in his own skin.
Yamashita Tomohisa. Yamapi ran his tongue over the name. Kusano Akira. Different, yet with such similar faces.
“Shuji,” Yamapi said to Kame, watching Kamenashi as he bent over his o-chem book. “Shuji-kun.”
“I'm not Shuji,” Kamenashi replied, a blue 0.3-mm pen in hand and eyes focused on Yamapi's gen-chem textbook. Kame would read Yamapi's textbook, highlighting key phrases and writing notes in the margins, and later, the night before the final, Yamapi would flip through his notes-covered in Jin's doodles-and a photocopy of Kamenashi's notes, actually legible, with the professor's podcast in his ears. Finally, he would pick up his textbook, that monstrosity, and read Kame's careful notes written in blue 0.3-mm pen.
Yamapi frowned. “I know that, Kazuya.”
That made Kamenashi look up from the textbook. “Kazuya?” he echoed.
“Kazuya,” Yamapi said decidedly, peering over Kame's shoulder from where he lay sprawled on his bed. Kame sat straight in Yamapi's chair at Yamapi's desk fiddling with Yamapi's textbook. Yamapi decided that he liked seeing Kame seated there like he belonged.
Kamenashi studied a sentence in the textbook carefully, eyes reading the words but not registering any of it. “You might as well call me Shuji,” he said carefully. “Again.” He re-read the sentence: something about thermodynamics and information he really should be committing to memory, but he can't focus, not with the way Akira was hovering over his shoulder again.
Kame and Yamapi had been in the same middle school years ago; they had spent their lunches on the roof eating with Horikita Maki-who was quiet and a bit awkward but had a smile brighter than the sun-and their afternoons at the library, just the three of them with their books open. Horikita liked social studies, and would curl up with a book on history or psychology while Yamapi leaned over Kame and protested that there was no way that he could end up with so much product, didn't he take into account limiting reactants?
Horikita Maki had called them Shuji and Akira first.
“What if I don't want to?” Yamapi asked. “What if I don't want to call you Shuji and want to call you Kazuya?”
Kazuya looked up from a diagram on activation energy. “Then I suppose you can call me Kazuya,” he said, but his eyes were flat and Yamapi knew that he was remembering when it hadn't been Yamashita-kun and Kamenashi-kun and Horikita-chan, but Akira and Shuji and Nobuta. And when the novelty of Akira and Shuji and Nobuta had slipped away like sand swept away by ocean tides, it had been Tomohisa and Kazuya and Maki.
And then it had been Tomohisa and Maki.
Tomohisa smiled. “Kazuya,” he said, and it was like back then, when Maki had been next to him, her fingers just barely touching Tomohisa's sleeve. “I... I want you to know that Maki and I are dating,” he had said then. Now, he simply poked Kazuya's cheek. “You and Maki would be cute together,” he said flippantly.
Kazuya looked up. “What?” he asked, and his voice was as distant as it had been back then.
Tomohisa laughed. “Yeah. Have you talked to her at all recently?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
There really wasn't a good answer for that. When Kazuya thought about it, there really was no reason to be avoiding Horikita Maki, who . “Just never really felt like it I guess?” he suggested, tentative. What was with Tomohisa today, bringing up old memories of middle school? Yamapi, he reminded himself; Tomohisa was middle school, and now he was Yamashita-kun, or Yamapi if Kazuya was feeling particularly intimate.
Kazuya sighed. None of the words were making any sense right now; thermodynamics simply wasn't clicking his brain, and he didn't know what to say to Yamapi.
“You work too hard,” Tomohisa said.
Tomohisa again. Kazuya's brain was slow today if he couldn't keep his mind focused on one thing. Tomohisa wasn't helping, he never helped. He was always there, a nagging presence in his mind.
“Stop thinking,” Tomohisa said. “Stop thinking.” He reached towards Kazuya, his fingers warm against Kazuya's wrist. “Stop worrying, alright? The next midterm's not until two weeks later; it'd be good to take a break.”
“We don't have time to take breaks,” Kazuya said tightly. He was juggling a science major and baseball intermurals and HUM was kicking his ass because his TA hated him, and he was taking five classes instead of the expected four, and he wanted an A, thanks very much.
Yamapi shook his head, tugging more firmly on Kazuya's wrist. “No, Kazuya. You just think that way, but it's not true.” He pulled Kazuya away from the textbook, and it shouldn't have been so easy to move a fully grown man, but Kazuya was always too thin for his own good. “Come on,” he said, tugging Kazuya close to him.
“Where's Jin?” Kazuya asked distantly, closing Tomohisa's textbook and leaning into him. It was easy, almost too easy, to stop thinking about thermodynamics and to just relax in the memory of middle school, where grades didn't matter and there was high school to start working hard.
“Out,” Tomohisa said, because he knew how much Kazuya needed to have things in control. “It's fine.”
“I'm not...” Kazuya began.
“I know,” Tomohisa said. “I know you're not trying to be difficult. But Kazuya... Kazuya, don't worry, alright?” He smiled, and Kazuya smiled back, relaxing. “Don't worry, Kazuya. Take a nap, alright? I'll wake you up in an hour, and you can go back to studying, kay?”
Kazuya and Tomohisa had been in the same middle school years ago; Kazuya had been prone to overworking even then, and Tomohisa would sit with him and they would study middle school chemistry and physics and biology together, talking about how nervous they are about clicking strikers. But even then, Tomohisa had been somebody special; Tomohisa had been the popular one, and Kazuya had been Tomohisa's friend who always looked uncomfortable in his own skin. They would chat on MSN until Maki came online after her piano lessons, and then the three of them would chat about homework and upcoming quizes until Kazuya was no longer a tight ball of panic but relaxed enough to fall asleep.
Kazuya frowned, but Tomohisa was already tugging him onto the bed and tucking him under blankets. “I'm not sure about this,” Kazuya said.
“Close your eyes,” Tomohisa said in reply, adjusting the blankets. “Rest.”
“Yamapi,” he began.
Tomohisa pressed his fingers in a fox hand. “Kon,” he murmured, pressing the fox head to Kazuya's cheek. “Good night, Shuji.”
Kazuya blinked up at him. “One hour,” he murmured. “Wake me up. Alright, Akira?”
“I promise, Shuji.”
Shuji and Akira had been in the same middle school years ago. They had been best friends, the two of them, even if Shuji was always embarrassed by Akira's antics and Akira was perpetually around Shuji. Shuji had always been so tense, so awkward that Akira couldn't help but want to make him relax. It was easy for the two of them to be Shuji and Akira (with Nobuta on the side); as Shuji and Akira, they were best friends who would never let each other go. As Kamenashi and Yamashita-Kame and Yamapi, Kazuya and Tomohisa-they were friends who would forget each other.
But Shuji and Akira-Kazuya and Tomohisa, Kame and Yamapi, Kamenashi and Yamashita-had been in the same middle school years ago. Now, they didn't remember how Akira had slept over in Shuji's bed, the two of them tangled with each other, they didn't remember how Kazuya and Tomohisa had spent their nights chatting with Maki, they didn't remember how Kame and Yamapi had met each other and Horikita at the water fountains during lunch. Kamenashi didn't remember any of this-he didn't want to, remembering just reminded him of lonely high school years where Yamashita-kun didn't call or MSN or write-but he was willing to try.
“'Kay, Akira.”
End.
Masterlist of fandoms here
Masterlist of Jpop fanfiction here
More UCSD!AU fanfiction here at the UCSD!AU tag