114.
Title: Helping hands
Rating: PG
Pairing/Group: NEWS/NakaMassu
Summary: An accident leaves Massu in a double cast and with the capability of an infant, he isn’t a happy patient.
Prompt: 114 Massu breaks both his arms and is in need of a personal assistant.
This was by no means glamorous, or fun, or anything else that may have been depicted in a silly comedy depicting a boy in his exact situation. What Massu was living was a complete and utter nightmare.
“Okay, I’ve just got to reach down your back to get this last bit,” Shige said, his voice muffled by Massu’s shoulder as the former razed a hand down Massu’s back.
Massu squirmed, causing Shige to let out a huff. “Hold on, nearly got it.”
Warm hands swarmed Massu’s lower back, and heated breath stung his ear, this was possibly the most embarrassing and horrifying experience of his life.
“Got it!” Shige declared, sliding away, seemingly oblivious to the trail of soap bubbles that ran down his button down shirt.
“Now just lay back against the tub,” Shige ordered, as he turned to the shower hose Koyama had purchased a few days ago and tested the water.
Massu complied, grimacing lightly at the sudden cold he felt at his back.
“Here we go,” Shige continued, turning the hose on Massu, and allowing the light spray of tepid water to fall on his bandmate. “Water’s not too hot, is it?” Shige asked.
Massu shook his head, eyes averted to the faucet, “it’s fine.”
He felt his face warm, from more than just the steam from the water, Massu was left in a very compromising position and he really couldn’t remember ever feeling this embarrassed.
Moments later however, Massu would easily take back the statement to say that Shige helping him into a pair of undergarments and accidentally stroking his member into a half-hearted erection would top the list of most embarrassing situations in the world.
Spluttering Shige pulled his hand away, as though stung, “I’m sorry, so sorry, oh my god, Massu I- I, I’m sorry, oh my…” Shige’s face was absolutely flaming. His long hair clung to his temple and his entire front was still rather wet from the soap bubbles, he looked an absolute mess.
Massu fared no better, beet red and without the one ability to help with the situation. He couldn’t even turn away properly, instead he leaned into his shoulder, hoping beyond hope that Shige would flail about and run out of the room.
He’d really appreciate that, right now.
Shige however seemed to have grown an extra bit more of a spine, and was puffing away his embarrassment, again reaching over to pull the yellow striped boxers up and over Massu’s rear end.
“I’m fine,” Massu choked out, unable to wave Shige away with his hand instead settled for waggling his foot at him.
“You’re still kind of wet,” Shige said quietly, trying to maneuver behind Massu.
“I’m fine,” Massu insisted, voice hard as he resolutely turned away from his friend.
Shige faltered, arms falling away from Massu’s shoulder. “Call me when you’re ready,” he said quietly. He gingerly placed a towel on Massu’s neck, and quickly exited the room.
Massu breathed a soft sigh, listening to the quiet click of the door. He sagged, leaning against his bed post.
This was slowly becoming the most stressful part of his day. He awkwardly turned trying to maneuver himself onto the bed, mindful of the large casts that kept his arms at a stiff 45 degree angle to the rest if his body.
He grunted, falling onto the bed, plaster digging into his shoulder. It wasn’t by any means fun, but then there was nothing fun about the entire situation.
A jog around the city had ended with Massu in the hospital, sporting a concussion and an inability to move either of his arms.
Needless to say, Massu’s mother was in a state and had been sent to her mother’s in need of recuperation, which led to his current predicament of being cared for by his bandmates and any other volunteer that happened to come up.
This didn’t even encompass the mess it was causing with work, his manager had had a near heart attack after hearing what happened. And was nearly sent into a 24 hour lock down when he came face to face with the driver that had incapacitated his charge.
Koyama had had a hard time keeping things calm in the hospital.
Not that it affected how things were working now, Koyama had stepped right into the role of resident leader, and had outlined a schedule of duties for everyone, and had indefinitely placed Massu under house arrest.
The attention he received after leaving the hospital had been enough of a scare to keep himself hidden away in his apartment, besides that, being stared at like a freak didn’t appeal to him all that much. At least not more so than usual.
All in all, Massu had been left with the capability of an infant. He couldn’t even feed himself, let alone bathe or brush his hair, and attempts at using the bathroom were traumatic enough that he blocked out every instance it had happened.
Shige, it seemed had called for back up, as Tegoshi breezed into the room, with a slight smile on his face, “Massu,” he sang by way of greeting.
“I feel like I’m slowly dying,” Massu returned.
“Yes, I know Shige’s company can get pretty bad,” Tegoshi mused, as he pulled Massu up by his shoulders and set about ruffling his already messy hair.
“That’s not what I meant,” Massu replied, eyes still downcast, he was still only dressed in his underpants.
“Either way it’s true, so I sent him down to the store, he’s on cooking detail tonight,” Tegoshi said, as he walked over to Massu’s chest of drawers and started rifling through the contents.
“Wasn’t that your job?” Massu asked.
“Uh-huh,” Tegoshi answered, staring at a pair of board shorts for a second, before throwing them back in and grabbing a pair of sturdy black shorts.
Massu couldn’t say he was surprised, Tegoshi never hid the fact that he hated cooking detail. Massu felt his stomach coil, Tegoshi shouldn’t be responsible for feeding him.
He was nearly 26 years old, more than capable of feeding himself, or at least going out to get his own food. As it was, Tegoshi would probably enjoy spoon feeding him. With Koyama filming out in Okinawa it had fallen to Tegoshi and Shige to watch over him.
“Ooh, this is cute,” Tegoshi declared, brandishing the t-shirt he’d given Massu as a gift two years ago.
He shuffled over and gingerly pushed the shirt through his two trapped arms, and quickly pulled it over his head. Soon after, he tugged the shorts up over his underpants and cinched the button.
“There,” Tegoshi said, triumphantly grinning at Massu, oblivious to the slight discomfort the older man was in.
“You look cute,” Tegoshi continued, pulling Massu towards the full length mirror hanging on the closet door.
Massu blinked, cute wasn’t a word he would have chosen, the criss-crossing skulls on the t-shirt weren’t what he would have picked out himself, neither were the shorts, but he looked acceptable, excepting of course the plaster arms he was sporting as an accessory.
“What d’you think?” Tegoshi prodded, as he pulled a brush through Massu’s thick locks.
“It’s fine,” Massu said, quietly.
“Better than fine,” Tegoshi said, whipping the brush through one final time. He grinned toothily, clearly expecting some sort of praise for his hard work.
Massu’s answer was a simple, terse grin, before ducking out and meandering his way onto the living room, to find Skull happily burrowing into the couch cushions.
“Oh, right, I forgot to mention-“
“You brought Skull,” Massu finished.
“It’s just I had to take him to the vet and then Shige called, and I didn’t have time to drop him off, and he really just hates being by himself,” Tegoshi explained, eyes widening, pleading for Massu not to shoo the dog out.
“Just get him off the couch,” Massu sighed, sliding onto an armchair.
“C’mere Skull, off the couch,” Tegoshi called, voice raised an octave or two higher. The small dog scurried off the couch and bounded toward it’s master, tail wagging happily as Tegoshi pulled her up and snuggled close.
Massu turned his eyes to the television screen, that Shige had no doubt been watching before heading out to the market. It was a rather boring documentary on the decomposition of the earth. The remote sat on the coffee table about a foot and a half away from him.
He leaned forward, fingers barely touching the control. He leaned a bit more, trying to balance the weight between his arms. His fingers finally circled the remote, with a contented sigh, he gingerly pulled back.
The door banged open, with Shige hauling a few paper bags in his arms.
Massu positively jumped, while Skull yelped, hopping out of Tegoshi’s arms. Massu’s shoulder throbbed painfully as he fell back into the chair, he groaned. He’d need more painkillers.
Skull yapped at Shige, as the man slid into the kitchen, calling to Tegoshi.
A lot more painkillers.
*-*-*
They meant well, he knew they did. That fact however, did little to make Massu feel any better.
Skull sat in a chair, paws scratching on the table top, while Tegoshi fed him scraps of tuna and Shige gingerly fed lumps of rice to Massu.
Mouth full, he could hardly say anything as Skull eagerly jumped onto the table and knocked over the small bottle of soy sauce as he ran toward Shige, when Tegoshi ran out of tuna pieces.
Shige yelped, as Tiny vaulted onto the strips of tuna he’d been about to feed Massu.
“Tegoshi!” Shige cried, as he dropped the bowl of rice he’d been holding.
“Skull!” Tegoshi cried, on his feet in seconds and after the small dog, that had made away with Massu’s tuna.
“Mmmat mare mu mooping,” Massu yelled through a mouthful of rice.
He may or may not have been hyperventilating a bit at the state of things.
His cries went unheeded as Tegoshi tore after Skull and Shige after the two, in attempt to pick up the tuna pieces the dog had taken and then dropped in chase.
Steeling himself, Massu spit the mountain of rice out of his mouth, and got to his feet.
“ENOUGH!” he yelled.
There was immediate silence, Tegoshi stood stock still, hand outreached to grab Skull, while Skull paused to stare up at Massu, curiously. Shige, alone, managed to slip on a piece of tuna, but landed quietly on his rear end.
“I’m sorry,” Tegoshi managed, as he grabbed Skull.
Shige groaned, getting to his feet and lightly massaging his bottom.
“Just, go,” Massu muttered, face darkening as he stared at the mess.
“We’ll clean this up,” Shige said, making a grab for the dishes on the table.
“Yes, Skull and I will help,” Tegoshi added.
“No, just leave it,” Massu said. “I’ll do it myself.”
“But you can’t,” Shige began.
“I CAN!” Massu exploded.
He’d had enough, no more codling, no more cooing, no more mess, nothing. He’d do it all himself.
They stared at him, open mouthed, seemingly unable to form coherent sentences.
Massu never blew up.
He was a fountain of patience.
At this point, however patience was the last thing Massu had.
He’d spent the last three weeks in the hands of his bandmates and friends, unable to even turn around without someone hurrying up to him in worry.
And he still had at least another four to deal with.
Four more weeks of aches and pains, worried stares and helpful hands. Four more weeks of no privacy, and next to no semblance of peace.
He needed time, alone, that however was the one thing they didn’t want to give him.
“Really, Massu, we’ll clean this up,” Shige assured.
“STOP!” Massu yelled, shaking his head, “Just go, I need…time alone,” he finished quietly.
A few moments passed, Massu kept his gaze firmly upon the ground, while Tegoshi and Shige had a silent exchange.
“Okay, we’ll come back later,” Tegoshi said.
Seconds later they were gone, and Massu was left alone with an empty bowl and a messy table. His gaze fell on the mass of dishes in the sink, his fingers twitched.
He turned back towards his bedroom and a few uncomfortable moments later he was hidden in his pillows and the world silently paraded past as a dream.
*-*-*-*
Sunlight was streaming through, hitting his face. Massu burrowed into his pillows, trying to hide from the light. Starting the day wasn’t on his to-do list.
The clacking and running water coming from the outside meant that someone clearly didn’t agree.
Massu roused himself, and managed to sit up, silently thankful he’d worked on his abdominal muscles prior to his accident. Flab probably wouldn’t have helped him much.
He managed to push his bedroom door open, and make his way into the living room, where there were clear signs that someone was at work cleaning.
Massu fought down a growl, he’d said he would do it. And even though his arms were incapacitated, he’d damn well meant it.
He stalked into the kitchen, fully expecting to have to tell Shige off for being too helpful. Instead of the spiky black hair leaning over the sink, a bemused Nakamaru threw him a glance over his shoulder.
“Oh, you’re up already,” he said, shutting the water off and wiping his hands on a checkered dishcloth.
“I- What’re you doing here?” Massu asked utterly perplexed.
Nakamaru was meant to be on tour, heading to Korea, for at least the next month with KAT-TUN.
“Quick break,” Nakamaru replied, laying a hand on the small of Massu’s back and leading him to his favorite armchair.
After settling Massu in, Nakamaru unceremoniously fell into the seat across from him.
Nakamaru gave Massu a kind smile, “So.”
“So,” Massu echoed faintly.
“I got a call yesterday from a frantic Koyama telling me you’d snapped,” Nakamaru said conversationally.
Massu didn’t quite know what to say.
“Clearly I’ve seen this coming for, oh, the past few years, so obviously, I had to come and see for myself,” Nakamaru continued.
“I didn’t snap,” Massu finally managed.
“I know,” Nakamaru replied, “but you did throw a fit and scare the living daylights out of everyone, I mean I even got a call from Yamashita-kun, and I was under the impression that he’d been hiding under a rock somewhere.”
Massu blinked.
“Still I’ve been wanting to come by and see you for the past few weeks, so the whole ‘he’s snapped!’ thing did get me out of Korea for a few days,” Nakamaru explained.
“And I’ll bet Kamenashi-kun took that well,” Massu said.
“He’ll get over it, I think Koki’s got him under control, if not Taguchi and Ueda can always distract him,” Nakamaru said with a shrug.
“Good plan.”
“Right,” Nakamaru looked extremely pleased with himself, “so, now that we’ve got the awkward questions out of the way, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Massu let his head fall back, letting out a low groan. “I can’t deal with this, I know they meant well, but it was too much! I can’t even bathe by myself!”
“Who washed you?”
“Shige.”
“oho, that’s awkward,” Nakamaru said, with a slight shake of his head.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Massu replied.
“Do I want to know?” Nakamaru asked.
Massu pondered a moment, “I don’t think you do, but Tegoshi will probably mention it to you later on just to gross you out.”
“Great.”
“Look forward to it,” Massu said with a smirk.
“Somehow I get the feeling you’re enjoying this,” Nakamaru commented.
“If I have to feel this embarrassed, it’s really only fair that you get to feel it too,” Massu said, smirk widening.
“Why am I around such sadists?” Nakamaru asked. Massu laughed, dimples protruding ever so slightly. Nakamaru smiled softly, there it was.
“Now continue with your story.”
Massu paused, before launching into his stressful day of being bathed, dressed, fed, and cleaned at the hands of his bandmates and toy poodle from hell.
“Oh, Skull’s not that bad,” Nakamaru interjected.
“He didn’t make a mess of your dining room, did he?” Massu challenged.
“Well, okay to be fair, it wasn’t Skull’s fault, it was Tegoshi’s.”
“Yes, well when Tegoshi comes over later, I’ll be sure and tell him that,” Massu threatened.
Nakamaru paled, “or you could not.”
Massu shrugged, or rather attempted to shrug , his arms made it nearly impossible. His shoulder throbbed, Massu gritted his teeth.
“Medicine?” Nakamaru offered, shaking the bottle of pills.
Massu nodded. Wordlessly, Nakamaru opened up the bottle and handed over two tablets. Massu held them in his hand uncertainly, while Nakamaru rummaged for a straw.
Soon enough he Massu had the straw to his lips and was gulping down the medicine.
“Thank you,” Massu said, giving Nakamaru a small smile, his shoulder already beginning to feel better.
They stayed in a companionable silence, Massu happy for the peace, and Nakamaru simple eyeing his friend, trying to figure out just how stressed he was.
“You know they’re only trying to help,” Nakamaru said quietly.
Massu nodded solemnly, “I know.”
“And I know they can be a handful, but look on the brightside, at least it’s not Taguchi playing nurse for you,” Nakamaru said.
Massu laughed, “I’d wind up with a broken leg.”
Nakamaru nodded, “possibly, either way if I were in your shoes I’d be very happy to have Koyama around.”
Massu agreed.
“I know not everyone’s quite as,” Nakamaru paused searching for the right word, “skilled as I am, in terms of tact and friendly advice, but you’ve got to give them a break.”
“I know,” Massu said quietly.
“They’re all really worried about you and your family, I mean your mom is barely coming around, and well it’s pretty much just Koyama carrying that bulk around,” Nakamaru continued.
“I wish I could help you out more, but,” Nakamaru sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Duty calls,” Massu said.
“Yeah.”
Massu sighed, the past hour of half-hearted bantering with Nakamaru was about the most peaceful he’d felt in weeks. With one frenzied thing happening after another it was rather nice to spend an hour trading awkward conversation with his best friend.
“It’ll get better,” Nakamaru said, “and I’ll be sure and send Shige an e-mail on proper washing techniques, I think I saw a youtube video of a nurse scrubbing an old lady somewhere.”
“That would be helpful,” Massu agreed, “And probably traumatic for Shige,” he added as afterthought.
“Which means I’ll get right on that,” Nakamaru replied with a grin.
Massu positively sparkled, earlier embarrassment gone as he laughed, imagining the horrified face Shige would have.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.
Rating: PG
Pairing/Group: NEWS/NakaMassu
Summary: An accident leaves Massu in a double cast and with the capability of an infant, he isn’t a happy patient.
Prompt: 114 Massu breaks both his arms and is in need of a personal assistant.
This was by no means glamorous, or fun, or anything else that may have been depicted in a silly comedy depicting a boy in his exact situation. What Massu was living was a complete and utter nightmare.
“Okay, I’ve just got to reach down your back to get this last bit,” Shige said, his voice muffled by Massu’s shoulder as the former razed a hand down Massu’s back.
Massu squirmed, causing Shige to let out a huff. “Hold on, nearly got it.”
Warm hands swarmed Massu’s lower back, and heated breath stung his ear, this was possibly the most embarrassing and horrifying experience of his life.
“Got it!” Shige declared, sliding away, seemingly oblivious to the trail of soap bubbles that ran down his button down shirt.
“Now just lay back against the tub,” Shige ordered, as he turned to the shower hose Koyama had purchased a few days ago and tested the water.
Massu complied, grimacing lightly at the sudden cold he felt at his back.
“Here we go,” Shige continued, turning the hose on Massu, and allowing the light spray of tepid water to fall on his bandmate. “Water’s not too hot, is it?” Shige asked.
Massu shook his head, eyes averted to the faucet, “it’s fine.”
He felt his face warm, from more than just the steam from the water, Massu was left in a very compromising position and he really couldn’t remember ever feeling this embarrassed.
Moments later however, Massu would easily take back the statement to say that Shige helping him into a pair of undergarments and accidentally stroking his member into a half-hearted erection would top the list of most embarrassing situations in the world.
Spluttering Shige pulled his hand away, as though stung, “I’m sorry, so sorry, oh my god, Massu I- I, I’m sorry, oh my…” Shige’s face was absolutely flaming. His long hair clung to his temple and his entire front was still rather wet from the soap bubbles, he looked an absolute mess.
Massu fared no better, beet red and without the one ability to help with the situation. He couldn’t even turn away properly, instead he leaned into his shoulder, hoping beyond hope that Shige would flail about and run out of the room.
He’d really appreciate that, right now.
Shige however seemed to have grown an extra bit more of a spine, and was puffing away his embarrassment, again reaching over to pull the yellow striped boxers up and over Massu’s rear end.
“I’m fine,” Massu choked out, unable to wave Shige away with his hand instead settled for waggling his foot at him.
“You’re still kind of wet,” Shige said quietly, trying to maneuver behind Massu.
“I’m fine,” Massu insisted, voice hard as he resolutely turned away from his friend.
Shige faltered, arms falling away from Massu’s shoulder. “Call me when you’re ready,” he said quietly. He gingerly placed a towel on Massu’s neck, and quickly exited the room.
Massu breathed a soft sigh, listening to the quiet click of the door. He sagged, leaning against his bed post.
This was slowly becoming the most stressful part of his day. He awkwardly turned trying to maneuver himself onto the bed, mindful of the large casts that kept his arms at a stiff 45 degree angle to the rest if his body.
He grunted, falling onto the bed, plaster digging into his shoulder. It wasn’t by any means fun, but then there was nothing fun about the entire situation.
A jog around the city had ended with Massu in the hospital, sporting a concussion and an inability to move either of his arms.
Needless to say, Massu’s mother was in a state and had been sent to her mother’s in need of recuperation, which led to his current predicament of being cared for by his bandmates and any other volunteer that happened to come up.
This didn’t even encompass the mess it was causing with work, his manager had had a near heart attack after hearing what happened. And was nearly sent into a 24 hour lock down when he came face to face with the driver that had incapacitated his charge.
Koyama had had a hard time keeping things calm in the hospital.
Not that it affected how things were working now, Koyama had stepped right into the role of resident leader, and had outlined a schedule of duties for everyone, and had indefinitely placed Massu under house arrest.
The attention he received after leaving the hospital had been enough of a scare to keep himself hidden away in his apartment, besides that, being stared at like a freak didn’t appeal to him all that much. At least not more so than usual.
All in all, Massu had been left with the capability of an infant. He couldn’t even feed himself, let alone bathe or brush his hair, and attempts at using the bathroom were traumatic enough that he blocked out every instance it had happened.
Shige, it seemed had called for back up, as Tegoshi breezed into the room, with a slight smile on his face, “Massu,” he sang by way of greeting.
“I feel like I’m slowly dying,” Massu returned.
“Yes, I know Shige’s company can get pretty bad,” Tegoshi mused, as he pulled Massu up by his shoulders and set about ruffling his already messy hair.
“That’s not what I meant,” Massu replied, eyes still downcast, he was still only dressed in his underpants.
“Either way it’s true, so I sent him down to the store, he’s on cooking detail tonight,” Tegoshi said, as he walked over to Massu’s chest of drawers and started rifling through the contents.
“Wasn’t that your job?” Massu asked.
“Uh-huh,” Tegoshi answered, staring at a pair of board shorts for a second, before throwing them back in and grabbing a pair of sturdy black shorts.
Massu couldn’t say he was surprised, Tegoshi never hid the fact that he hated cooking detail. Massu felt his stomach coil, Tegoshi shouldn’t be responsible for feeding him.
He was nearly 26 years old, more than capable of feeding himself, or at least going out to get his own food. As it was, Tegoshi would probably enjoy spoon feeding him. With Koyama filming out in Okinawa it had fallen to Tegoshi and Shige to watch over him.
“Ooh, this is cute,” Tegoshi declared, brandishing the t-shirt he’d given Massu as a gift two years ago.
He shuffled over and gingerly pushed the shirt through his two trapped arms, and quickly pulled it over his head. Soon after, he tugged the shorts up over his underpants and cinched the button.
“There,” Tegoshi said, triumphantly grinning at Massu, oblivious to the slight discomfort the older man was in.
“You look cute,” Tegoshi continued, pulling Massu towards the full length mirror hanging on the closet door.
Massu blinked, cute wasn’t a word he would have chosen, the criss-crossing skulls on the t-shirt weren’t what he would have picked out himself, neither were the shorts, but he looked acceptable, excepting of course the plaster arms he was sporting as an accessory.
“What d’you think?” Tegoshi prodded, as he pulled a brush through Massu’s thick locks.
“It’s fine,” Massu said, quietly.
“Better than fine,” Tegoshi said, whipping the brush through one final time. He grinned toothily, clearly expecting some sort of praise for his hard work.
Massu’s answer was a simple, terse grin, before ducking out and meandering his way onto the living room, to find Skull happily burrowing into the couch cushions.
“Oh, right, I forgot to mention-“
“You brought Skull,” Massu finished.
“It’s just I had to take him to the vet and then Shige called, and I didn’t have time to drop him off, and he really just hates being by himself,” Tegoshi explained, eyes widening, pleading for Massu not to shoo the dog out.
“Just get him off the couch,” Massu sighed, sliding onto an armchair.
“C’mere Skull, off the couch,” Tegoshi called, voice raised an octave or two higher. The small dog scurried off the couch and bounded toward it’s master, tail wagging happily as Tegoshi pulled her up and snuggled close.
Massu turned his eyes to the television screen, that Shige had no doubt been watching before heading out to the market. It was a rather boring documentary on the decomposition of the earth. The remote sat on the coffee table about a foot and a half away from him.
He leaned forward, fingers barely touching the control. He leaned a bit more, trying to balance the weight between his arms. His fingers finally circled the remote, with a contented sigh, he gingerly pulled back.
The door banged open, with Shige hauling a few paper bags in his arms.
Massu positively jumped, while Skull yelped, hopping out of Tegoshi’s arms. Massu’s shoulder throbbed painfully as he fell back into the chair, he groaned. He’d need more painkillers.
Skull yapped at Shige, as the man slid into the kitchen, calling to Tegoshi.
A lot more painkillers.
*-*-*
They meant well, he knew they did. That fact however, did little to make Massu feel any better.
Skull sat in a chair, paws scratching on the table top, while Tegoshi fed him scraps of tuna and Shige gingerly fed lumps of rice to Massu.
Mouth full, he could hardly say anything as Skull eagerly jumped onto the table and knocked over the small bottle of soy sauce as he ran toward Shige, when Tegoshi ran out of tuna pieces.
Shige yelped, as Tiny vaulted onto the strips of tuna he’d been about to feed Massu.
“Tegoshi!” Shige cried, as he dropped the bowl of rice he’d been holding.
“Skull!” Tegoshi cried, on his feet in seconds and after the small dog, that had made away with Massu’s tuna.
“Mmmat mare mu mooping,” Massu yelled through a mouthful of rice.
He may or may not have been hyperventilating a bit at the state of things.
His cries went unheeded as Tegoshi tore after Skull and Shige after the two, in attempt to pick up the tuna pieces the dog had taken and then dropped in chase.
Steeling himself, Massu spit the mountain of rice out of his mouth, and got to his feet.
“ENOUGH!” he yelled.
There was immediate silence, Tegoshi stood stock still, hand outreached to grab Skull, while Skull paused to stare up at Massu, curiously. Shige, alone, managed to slip on a piece of tuna, but landed quietly on his rear end.
“I’m sorry,” Tegoshi managed, as he grabbed Skull.
Shige groaned, getting to his feet and lightly massaging his bottom.
“Just, go,” Massu muttered, face darkening as he stared at the mess.
“We’ll clean this up,” Shige said, making a grab for the dishes on the table.
“Yes, Skull and I will help,” Tegoshi added.
“No, just leave it,” Massu said. “I’ll do it myself.”
“But you can’t,” Shige began.
“I CAN!” Massu exploded.
He’d had enough, no more codling, no more cooing, no more mess, nothing. He’d do it all himself.
They stared at him, open mouthed, seemingly unable to form coherent sentences.
Massu never blew up.
He was a fountain of patience.
At this point, however patience was the last thing Massu had.
He’d spent the last three weeks in the hands of his bandmates and friends, unable to even turn around without someone hurrying up to him in worry.
And he still had at least another four to deal with.
Four more weeks of aches and pains, worried stares and helpful hands. Four more weeks of no privacy, and next to no semblance of peace.
He needed time, alone, that however was the one thing they didn’t want to give him.
“Really, Massu, we’ll clean this up,” Shige assured.
“STOP!” Massu yelled, shaking his head, “Just go, I need…time alone,” he finished quietly.
A few moments passed, Massu kept his gaze firmly upon the ground, while Tegoshi and Shige had a silent exchange.
“Okay, we’ll come back later,” Tegoshi said.
Seconds later they were gone, and Massu was left alone with an empty bowl and a messy table. His gaze fell on the mass of dishes in the sink, his fingers twitched.
He turned back towards his bedroom and a few uncomfortable moments later he was hidden in his pillows and the world silently paraded past as a dream.
*-*-*-*
Sunlight was streaming through, hitting his face. Massu burrowed into his pillows, trying to hide from the light. Starting the day wasn’t on his to-do list.
The clacking and running water coming from the outside meant that someone clearly didn’t agree.
Massu roused himself, and managed to sit up, silently thankful he’d worked on his abdominal muscles prior to his accident. Flab probably wouldn’t have helped him much.
He managed to push his bedroom door open, and make his way into the living room, where there were clear signs that someone was at work cleaning.
Massu fought down a growl, he’d said he would do it. And even though his arms were incapacitated, he’d damn well meant it.
He stalked into the kitchen, fully expecting to have to tell Shige off for being too helpful. Instead of the spiky black hair leaning over the sink, a bemused Nakamaru threw him a glance over his shoulder.
“Oh, you’re up already,” he said, shutting the water off and wiping his hands on a checkered dishcloth.
“I- What’re you doing here?” Massu asked utterly perplexed.
Nakamaru was meant to be on tour, heading to Korea, for at least the next month with KAT-TUN.
“Quick break,” Nakamaru replied, laying a hand on the small of Massu’s back and leading him to his favorite armchair.
After settling Massu in, Nakamaru unceremoniously fell into the seat across from him.
Nakamaru gave Massu a kind smile, “So.”
“So,” Massu echoed faintly.
“I got a call yesterday from a frantic Koyama telling me you’d snapped,” Nakamaru said conversationally.
Massu didn’t quite know what to say.
“Clearly I’ve seen this coming for, oh, the past few years, so obviously, I had to come and see for myself,” Nakamaru continued.
“I didn’t snap,” Massu finally managed.
“I know,” Nakamaru replied, “but you did throw a fit and scare the living daylights out of everyone, I mean I even got a call from Yamashita-kun, and I was under the impression that he’d been hiding under a rock somewhere.”
Massu blinked.
“Still I’ve been wanting to come by and see you for the past few weeks, so the whole ‘he’s snapped!’ thing did get me out of Korea for a few days,” Nakamaru explained.
“And I’ll bet Kamenashi-kun took that well,” Massu said.
“He’ll get over it, I think Koki’s got him under control, if not Taguchi and Ueda can always distract him,” Nakamaru said with a shrug.
“Good plan.”
“Right,” Nakamaru looked extremely pleased with himself, “so, now that we’ve got the awkward questions out of the way, why don’t you tell me what happened?”
Massu let his head fall back, letting out a low groan. “I can’t deal with this, I know they meant well, but it was too much! I can’t even bathe by myself!”
“Who washed you?”
“Shige.”
“oho, that’s awkward,” Nakamaru said, with a slight shake of his head.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” Massu replied.
“Do I want to know?” Nakamaru asked.
Massu pondered a moment, “I don’t think you do, but Tegoshi will probably mention it to you later on just to gross you out.”
“Great.”
“Look forward to it,” Massu said with a smirk.
“Somehow I get the feeling you’re enjoying this,” Nakamaru commented.
“If I have to feel this embarrassed, it’s really only fair that you get to feel it too,” Massu said, smirk widening.
“Why am I around such sadists?” Nakamaru asked. Massu laughed, dimples protruding ever so slightly. Nakamaru smiled softly, there it was.
“Now continue with your story.”
Massu paused, before launching into his stressful day of being bathed, dressed, fed, and cleaned at the hands of his bandmates and toy poodle from hell.
“Oh, Skull’s not that bad,” Nakamaru interjected.
“He didn’t make a mess of your dining room, did he?” Massu challenged.
“Well, okay to be fair, it wasn’t Skull’s fault, it was Tegoshi’s.”
“Yes, well when Tegoshi comes over later, I’ll be sure and tell him that,” Massu threatened.
Nakamaru paled, “or you could not.”
Massu shrugged, or rather attempted to shrug , his arms made it nearly impossible. His shoulder throbbed, Massu gritted his teeth.
“Medicine?” Nakamaru offered, shaking the bottle of pills.
Massu nodded. Wordlessly, Nakamaru opened up the bottle and handed over two tablets. Massu held them in his hand uncertainly, while Nakamaru rummaged for a straw.
Soon enough he Massu had the straw to his lips and was gulping down the medicine.
“Thank you,” Massu said, giving Nakamaru a small smile, his shoulder already beginning to feel better.
They stayed in a companionable silence, Massu happy for the peace, and Nakamaru simple eyeing his friend, trying to figure out just how stressed he was.
“You know they’re only trying to help,” Nakamaru said quietly.
Massu nodded solemnly, “I know.”
“And I know they can be a handful, but look on the brightside, at least it’s not Taguchi playing nurse for you,” Nakamaru said.
Massu laughed, “I’d wind up with a broken leg.”
Nakamaru nodded, “possibly, either way if I were in your shoes I’d be very happy to have Koyama around.”
Massu agreed.
“I know not everyone’s quite as,” Nakamaru paused searching for the right word, “skilled as I am, in terms of tact and friendly advice, but you’ve got to give them a break.”
“I know,” Massu said quietly.
“They’re all really worried about you and your family, I mean your mom is barely coming around, and well it’s pretty much just Koyama carrying that bulk around,” Nakamaru continued.
“I wish I could help you out more, but,” Nakamaru sighed, running a hand through his hair.
“Duty calls,” Massu said.
“Yeah.”
Massu sighed, the past hour of half-hearted bantering with Nakamaru was about the most peaceful he’d felt in weeks. With one frenzied thing happening after another it was rather nice to spend an hour trading awkward conversation with his best friend.
“It’ll get better,” Nakamaru said, “and I’ll be sure and send Shige an e-mail on proper washing techniques, I think I saw a youtube video of a nurse scrubbing an old lady somewhere.”
“That would be helpful,” Massu agreed, “And probably traumatic for Shige,” he added as afterthought.
“Which means I’ll get right on that,” Nakamaru replied with a grin.
Massu positively sparkled, earlier embarrassment gone as he laughed, imagining the horrified face Shige would have.
Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad.