that's why you've got to hold me
title: that’s why you’ve got to hold me
pairing: takaki/yabu
rating: pg
genre: fluff
summary/excerpt: It’s their thing, after practices or photo shoots or meetings or recordings. A not-like-we’re-a-couple-date-because-we’re-just-friends-date - their break from their busy schedule and rabid fangirls stalking their every move; just them in a small cafe’ at the back of the old little bookstore that sold more magazines than books.
disclaimer: 0% claim.
notes: unbeta-ed. somehow, I think this one’s for live4dehmoment hope it’s not much of a fail. It’s nothing compared to what you write, bwh. Hope you’re doing fine *winks*
- that’s why you’ve got to hold me -
It’s their thing, after practices or photo shoots or meetings or recordings. A not-like-we’re-a-couple-date-because-we’re-just-friends-date - their break from their busy schedule and rabid fangirls stalking their every move; just them in a small cafe’ at the back of the old little bookstore that sold more magazines than books.
They enter a tattered black door that lead to a little coffee shop that smelled of newly brewed coffee and freshly baked muffins. A lady in white shirt and black skirt greets them. She smiles a wide and knowing smile and leads them in.
The usual? She asks as she leads them to a secluded booth at the far end corner of the cafe’
Yabu nods at her and smiles at her gratefully before she leaves.
The place is warm. Opposite the coldness that scratch their faces and buries the tulips and roses and daisies back on the garden of Yabu’s house.
The booth has the right amount of pleasant, a little flower arrangement at the middle of the small, black table, a pale lamp hanging from the low ceiling, soft red cushions in black wooden seats, the scent of aromatherapy oils wafting through the air and mellow music playing in the background. But the privacy the cafe’ exudes is what brings them back here after rehearsals and recordings for HSJ.
They take their coats off and drape them on either side of the booth. They sit beside each other, not too far but not too close, just close for Yabu to smack Takaki at each lame joke the guy throws at him.
What? You’re such a total girl fawning at Ryutaro like that. I pity the guy for putting up with your hair ruffling sometimes.
It gets more comfortable after a while; jokes are set aside for conversations they can’t have inside the jimusho. With eight kids (yes, including Hikaru, Inoo and Daiki) running around the dressing room and eating food off the floor and bouncing like rabbits on a grassy meadow, it’s almost impossible to hear your own thoughts. And so they end up here, at a downtown cafe’ having long and serious talks. As serious as they can get that is.
Keito’s being more open now isn’t he? We had a little chat earlier.
He’s been pretty active for a while now.
I know. But it’s one thing to be comfortable with 7 another to be open with us.
That’s normal. You can’t expect him to be all giddy around us.
I know...
The lady comes back after ten minutes carrying a tray of cups and a plate of buttered muffins and a slice of chocolate cake.
The coffee is warm, sweet and frothy. It glides down their throats, warms up their bodies and tints their cheeks with a soft pink.
The boys are growing up. Yabu’s eyes are glazed with mellowness as he stirs the coffee in his blue cup.
Seven? Takaki’s eyebrows furrows as he gulps the last of his latte’ and reaches for a muffin.
Yup. I wonder if they’d ever get use to this - he places the teaspoon on the saucer, fixes his eyes on the brown swirl of liquid on his cup- this life. We go around the country, singing and dancing ‘til our bodies collapse, smiling and waving to hundreds of girls we don’t even know, running from one site to another like were running out of time. We never get a real life; always on the edge, always on the limelight.
Takaki looks at Yabu, his eyes filled with confusion. They aren’t like this most of the time and it makes him wonder what happened to lead Yabu to this. But he doesn’t speak. Just listens.
We never get to be us save for the few hours we spend backstage, and even then we still have to be cautious of our actions. We never get to live a normal life; we have to disguise ourselves just to go to a bookstore, have to dodge fangirls just to buy food, we literally have to wait for sunset just to go here.
Yabu looks at Takaki, voice trailing off into a whisper.
Yabu.
Takaki looks at Yabu’s soft, mellow, sad eyes. It reflects the cracks that are yet to mend; shows the fears their leader tries to bury with his smiles and laughs and motherly hugs.
Yabu, shut up and drink your coffee. You’re thinking too much.
He sidles closer to Yabu, grabs Yabu’s lean hands and stokes it with his thumb.
They’re not new to this. The boys aren’t new to this; they’ve seen the same thing happen over and over again. They knew what the price was when they signed up for the job. He lets the hand go and reaches for the chocolate cake instead. They wouldn’t put up with this if they didn’t want it. They love being on stage, they love making those girls sing and jump and scream like their on drugs. They love the thrill; they love making people happy. They love performing. You should know that more than anyone.
Takaki’s voice is mellow, soothing to Yabu’s ears. It calms the frantic beating of his heart and he’s inclined to rest his head on the younger’s shoulder and stay there until all the sinking feeling dispels.
He sits a little farther from Takaki. Yabu takes a buttered muffin from the tray and places it on a plate. He takes a bite and then another then sets it down on the plate before staring off into space.
Yabu chews the bread then swallows. The grainy foam caught between his teeth and gums, he swipes with his tongue. The taste of creamy butter is left in his mouth. He savours it and lets it melt, leaving a fluffy touch on his tongue that slowly seeps onto his taste buds.
Takaki watches him as he eats his first forkful of cake.
He lets his fork dive on the cake itself. Its a dark chocolate cake and the taste is heavenly. Then, he scoops the frosting and swallows it. He doesn’t gulp it though; he lets the melted chocolate rest on his tongue longer than most would. The flavour burst in his tongue. Sweet. Bitter. Sweet. Bitter. Sweet. It’s an irony - the taste - yet it makes it special and delicious and Takaki’s favourite cake. He doesn’t mind the dark and bitter. He likes the cake as a whole, all its sweetness and bitterness.
The silence stretches on as they leave the other on their own haven of flavours and taste. It’s their break from everything - the limelight, the jimusho, the fans, the prying eyes - just a few moments away from the world.
It’s just a few seconds to bask in this moment - the pastry in their mouths, the mellow music in the background, the warmth on their skin and the company they keep.
When the last crumbs leaves the comfort of the porcelain plate, Takaki looks at Yabu and asks.
Tell me what’s really wrong?
Yabu listens to the voice as he tries to find the right words. It’s feels like forever since the last words were spoken yet they’re back again. The inevitable hanging over their heads like an anvil perched on the hill.
I’m tired.
Pause.
Then stop.
Takaki thinks it’s just logical.
I can’t.
Yabu doesn’t.
Why?
Takaki raises his brows.
No one would look after them if I won’t.
Yabu sighs.
They could look after themselves. They should. You can’t expect them to be kids forever. You can’t keep them from growing up. They need to learn how to walk and talk and wave on their own, starting now.
Takaki scowls.
That’s actually my point. I’m scared they won’t need me anymore; that they’re too grown up to look after. - Yabu sips his coffee - If that happens, what would I do? It’s a weird feeling, really. I mean, I’m tired of running around after them but I don’t want to stop.
Yabu looks up at Takaki to find him smiling.
It’s stupid. I know.
Yabu resigns himself to drinking the warm coffee.
I don’t remember saying anything about stupid.
Takaki’s smile grows wider.
Huh
Yabu sneers.
Well, it’s pretty idiotic to think like that, but I kind of think it’s actually cute.
Takaki pinches Yabu’s cheeks.
Yabu swats his hand away. Takaki just laughs.
But really, it’s not the best idea you’ve had. I mean, come on, someone will always need you. It’s a given fact. No matter how old they get, you’d still be years ahead, meaning you’d still be the babysitter. You’re the oldest, that fact would never change.
Takaki lets himself sink on the chair, his shoulders relaxing and his eyes slowly fluttering. He thinks he actually did a pretty good job of convincing Yabu of his worth.
Yabu is not amused.
Yabu pulls leans close to Takaki and pulls the well-kept hair, effectively snapping the boy out of his reverie. He smirks in triumph.
What the hell was that for.
Yabu shrugs and waves to the lady in white shirt and black skirt for their bill.
She gives them their bill, a gentle smile on her lips. Takaki scratches his head as they split the bill. They give her a nod and a little smile as she went away.
The sky is already dark when they leave the comforts of the cafe’. The night is cool, the air almost freezing. They pull up the scarves to their faces as they made their way in the city. The lights are starting to flicker to life and people walk about from one place to the other.
It’s a ten minute walk to the station. They don’t talk much during the travel aside from light banter here and there just to fill up the spaces. It wasn’t like they were uncomfortable of the silence; it’s just that it gets too comfortable at some point.
Takaki’s ride is at opposite end of Yabu but he decides to walk with him.
The wind is colder now and Yabu scrunches his shoulders to keep the little heat from the scarf from slipping away. Takaki shakes his head. He offers his scarf to Yabu.
Yabu looks at him sceptically, as if he’s grown three heads at the same time.
What?!
Yabu shakes his head. He opens his mouth as if to say something only to close it again. He settles for wrapping the scarf on his neck instead.
They arrive at the platform a few minutes earlier from the train’s schedule and Yabu decides to stand at the side. Takaki stands beside him, playing with the lights reflected on his hands.
When the train finally arrives, Takaki walks with Yabu to the door. He taps Yabu’s shoulder and looks him in the eye.
I wasn’t fooling around with you earlier. You’d always be needed. 7 would always depend on you and the rest of hsj would always seek you for advice or something.
Yabu smiles, warm and genuine and touched.
Takaki pauses for a beat, smiles and continues.
And in case you need taking care of, you know I’m here.
Yabu looks at Takaki and tries to decipher what the hell it meant. Only, Takaki is impatient and so is the train. He kisses Yabu’s cheeks and pushes him inside the before the door closes.
Yabu loses his balance but regains it before he completely stumbles. When he realizes what had happen, the doors are already closed and the train is off. He touches his cheeks and smiles anyway.