Fanfiction: Johnny's Entertainment: The Little Things Give You Away
Title: The Little Things Give You Away
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Pairings: Kato Shigeaki/Nishikido Ryo
Warnings: Slash. Strange writing. And I really do mean the latter as a warning.
Status: One-shot, complete.
Notes: For misticloud, who asked for this as a salve for the agonising work of subbing RESCUE back when, you know, the subs for the first episode weren't out yet. -wince- I'm sorry this is so late, my dear.
In any case, the prompt was something along the lines of 'Shige tries to make Ryo let him take his photograph for Photoshigenic'. And this was the monstrosity that emerged.
There is a great deal unsaid in this fic. I guess sometimes minimalism isn't quite the way to go.
And yes. I am a fan of Linkin Park. :D
Ryo hates having his photograph taken. It reminds him too much of work, of photoshoots full of fake smiles and equally fake sexiness, and he hates to remember how little control he has over his life so he hates to smile for cameras when he doesn’t have to. Equally terrifying is the likelihood that he’s actually forgotten; forgotten what a real smile is like, how to use his face without the masks of fame and makeup. With video cameras it’s easy to forget because they’re quiet, and usually blend into the strip of darkness between the audience and the stage, but cameras click and whirr, and every snap of the shutter is a reminder of how blurred and vague the line between his life and his work is.
Shige, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have this problem. He is more at home behind a lens than in front; he has always been a better at being an artist than an artiste, a better creator and a poorer performer. Ryo can respect that. In a way, he sees himself as the one with lesser talent, because Shige can write, has a true way with words. Ryo has poetic talent but his words are raw; Shige’s has skill, has finesse.
Ryo is only glad that Shige has had the chance to showcase his talents. He knows some of self-loathing involved when you seem to be passed over in favour for everyone else around you, and so even if Shige doesn’t know it, Ryo felt his pain and loneliness in the early stages of NEWS far sharper than perhaps even Koyama did.
As he watches Shige snap shots of the members, Ryo feels a great sense of satisfaction at the confident man who now stands before him.
*
Shige’s been taking too many photographs lately, Ryo thinks. "Stop hiding behind your camera," he says aloud, mockingly.
"Maybe I would, if you’d let me take a photo of you," comes the slightly teasing reply.
"You know that would never happen," Ryo tells him automatically. They’ve had this discussion so many times that his words are more a product of reflex than response.
It is Shige’s turn to ask, "Why?" but today Ryo is already midway through his customary shrug when he realises Shige has just gone back to taking photos. He wants to nudge him and tell him to ask, but he stops because he knows that he will just shrug, again, and such indulgence in an exercise of futility would seriously piss Shige off more than usual.
*
So the next Photoshigenic, Ryo is surprised to see a familiar side profile staring off into space, a look in his eyes he never knew he could even make. He stares a little longer, fascinated by the softness of the folds around his own eyes, falls a little into the chocolate brown colour, pays attention to the detail of the wisps of hair falling past his forehead. Even the great Nishikido-kun can be gentle, the caption running down the left side reads. But the one on the right says, Ryo-chan, daijoubu?
He reads it and his heart clenches a little; when he thinks about it, Ryo hates the way he’s just so weak for this man.
"How did you take it?" he asks Shige later, when they are alone. "My photograph in Photoshigenic."
"You haven’t been paying attention lately," Shige says simply, looking right at him. "I have plenty more of you."
"All Polaroids too?" Ryo says, his unease rising.
"Don’t be silly," Shige barks a sharp laugh. "Polaroid film is too expensive for that."
"Oh," Ryo says, and he does feel a bit silly now. Not that he’d known how expensive Polaroids could be, or how rare they are getting to be nowadays, but his question had been rather selfish and egotistical.
"Well, what do you mean by that caption, then?"
Shige lets his eyes fall away. "Just like I said, you haven’t been paying attention lately," he mutters.
Ryo stares. "What?"
But Shige only shakes his head and turns away.
*
One day Shige hands him a camera and says, "For the next Photoshigenic, I want you to take photos of me."
Ryo automatically takes it, but then looks at Shige incredulously as his words sink in. "But I can’t take photographs!"
Shige tsks impatiently, as if he were an idiot. "If you can see through the viewfinder and press the button, you can," he says. "It’s only when quality matters that everything else counts."
Ryo’s eyes narrow at the underhanded insult, but before he can say anything, Shige drops his voice and says, reaching out to close Ryo’s dangerously lax fingers around the camera, "And quality doesn’t matter here, but that it’s you taking these."
Ryo feels his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach and then rise disturbingly quickly. He swallows, and looks down to look away from him, pulls his hand away from Shige's lingering touch. Damn. He really was so vulnerable when it came to this man.
"Okay," he says.
*
Shige thanks him when he takes the camera back, and Ryo almost forgets about the whole thing until Shige passes him an envelope a few weeks later.
He opens it, but not before giving Shige a quizzical look, and sees the stack of photos. Curious, he shakes them out, and then his breath catches in his throat.
The man in the photos before him is beautiful, more than he could ever say. Sometimes he wonders if he can ever tell him how much, ever love him enough. Somehow when he’d been looking through a lens he’d missed entirely the sleek lines, compact forms that Shige was made up of; missed the graceful turn of his eyes, the luscious curve of his lips.
"Here," Shige says, handing him the draft copy of the next issue of Photoshigenic, and there it is, a half-blur photo of a look Shige is tossing over his shoulder, his eyes wide, and clear, and alluring.
Pay attention to me, the caption reads.
Ryo looks up at Shige, who takes the copy from him and says softly to him, so no one else can hear, "It's okay, you know, to have your photograph taken."
And Ryo looks back down at the photographs in his hand, at the beautiful man in each imperfect shot, and then finds that he is nodding in response. "Okay."
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Pairings: Kato Shigeaki/Nishikido Ryo
Warnings: Slash. Strange writing. And I really do mean the latter as a warning.
Status: One-shot, complete.
Notes: For misticloud, who asked for this as a salve for the agonising work of subbing RESCUE back when, you know, the subs for the first episode weren't out yet. -wince- I'm sorry this is so late, my dear.
In any case, the prompt was something along the lines of 'Shige tries to make Ryo let him take his photograph for Photoshigenic'. And this was the monstrosity that emerged.
There is a great deal unsaid in this fic. I guess sometimes minimalism isn't quite the way to go.
And yes. I am a fan of Linkin Park. :D
Ryo hates having his photograph taken. It reminds him too much of work, of photoshoots full of fake smiles and equally fake sexiness, and he hates to remember how little control he has over his life so he hates to smile for cameras when he doesn’t have to. Equally terrifying is the likelihood that he’s actually forgotten; forgotten what a real smile is like, how to use his face without the masks of fame and makeup. With video cameras it’s easy to forget because they’re quiet, and usually blend into the strip of darkness between the audience and the stage, but cameras click and whirr, and every snap of the shutter is a reminder of how blurred and vague the line between his life and his work is.
Shige, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have this problem. He is more at home behind a lens than in front; he has always been a better at being an artist than an artiste, a better creator and a poorer performer. Ryo can respect that. In a way, he sees himself as the one with lesser talent, because Shige can write, has a true way with words. Ryo has poetic talent but his words are raw; Shige’s has skill, has finesse.
Ryo is only glad that Shige has had the chance to showcase his talents. He knows some of self-loathing involved when you seem to be passed over in favour for everyone else around you, and so even if Shige doesn’t know it, Ryo felt his pain and loneliness in the early stages of NEWS far sharper than perhaps even Koyama did.
As he watches Shige snap shots of the members, Ryo feels a great sense of satisfaction at the confident man who now stands before him.
*
Shige’s been taking too many photographs lately, Ryo thinks. "Stop hiding behind your camera," he says aloud, mockingly.
"Maybe I would, if you’d let me take a photo of you," comes the slightly teasing reply.
"You know that would never happen," Ryo tells him automatically. They’ve had this discussion so many times that his words are more a product of reflex than response.
It is Shige’s turn to ask, "Why?" but today Ryo is already midway through his customary shrug when he realises Shige has just gone back to taking photos. He wants to nudge him and tell him to ask, but he stops because he knows that he will just shrug, again, and such indulgence in an exercise of futility would seriously piss Shige off more than usual.
*
So the next Photoshigenic, Ryo is surprised to see a familiar side profile staring off into space, a look in his eyes he never knew he could even make. He stares a little longer, fascinated by the softness of the folds around his own eyes, falls a little into the chocolate brown colour, pays attention to the detail of the wisps of hair falling past his forehead. Even the great Nishikido-kun can be gentle, the caption running down the left side reads. But the one on the right says, Ryo-chan, daijoubu?
He reads it and his heart clenches a little; when he thinks about it, Ryo hates the way he’s just so weak for this man.
"How did you take it?" he asks Shige later, when they are alone. "My photograph in Photoshigenic."
"You haven’t been paying attention lately," Shige says simply, looking right at him. "I have plenty more of you."
"All Polaroids too?" Ryo says, his unease rising.
"Don’t be silly," Shige barks a sharp laugh. "Polaroid film is too expensive for that."
"Oh," Ryo says, and he does feel a bit silly now. Not that he’d known how expensive Polaroids could be, or how rare they are getting to be nowadays, but his question had been rather selfish and egotistical.
"Well, what do you mean by that caption, then?"
Shige lets his eyes fall away. "Just like I said, you haven’t been paying attention lately," he mutters.
Ryo stares. "What?"
But Shige only shakes his head and turns away.
*
One day Shige hands him a camera and says, "For the next Photoshigenic, I want you to take photos of me."
Ryo automatically takes it, but then looks at Shige incredulously as his words sink in. "But I can’t take photographs!"
Shige tsks impatiently, as if he were an idiot. "If you can see through the viewfinder and press the button, you can," he says. "It’s only when quality matters that everything else counts."
Ryo’s eyes narrow at the underhanded insult, but before he can say anything, Shige drops his voice and says, reaching out to close Ryo’s dangerously lax fingers around the camera, "And quality doesn’t matter here, but that it’s you taking these."
Ryo feels his heart plummet to the bottom of his stomach and then rise disturbingly quickly. He swallows, and looks down to look away from him, pulls his hand away from Shige's lingering touch. Damn. He really was so vulnerable when it came to this man.
"Okay," he says.
*
Shige thanks him when he takes the camera back, and Ryo almost forgets about the whole thing until Shige passes him an envelope a few weeks later.
He opens it, but not before giving Shige a quizzical look, and sees the stack of photos. Curious, he shakes them out, and then his breath catches in his throat.
The man in the photos before him is beautiful, more than he could ever say. Sometimes he wonders if he can ever tell him how much, ever love him enough. Somehow when he’d been looking through a lens he’d missed entirely the sleek lines, compact forms that Shige was made up of; missed the graceful turn of his eyes, the luscious curve of his lips.
"Here," Shige says, handing him the draft copy of the next issue of Photoshigenic, and there it is, a half-blur photo of a look Shige is tossing over his shoulder, his eyes wide, and clear, and alluring.
Pay attention to me, the caption reads.
Ryo looks up at Shige, who takes the copy from him and says softly to him, so no one else can hear, "It's okay, you know, to have your photograph taken."
And Ryo looks back down at the photographs in his hand, at the beautiful man in each imperfect shot, and then finds that he is nodding in response. "Okay."