154.
Title: Ready, Aim, Fail
Pairing/Characters: Masuda, Tegoshi, Koyama and Shige
Rating/Warnings: G
Prompt: # 154 Massu really sucks at playing basketball
There was no denying that it was finally summer when the cicadas got deafening enough to drown out the sound of your photographer’s voice, Massu thought. It didn’t bother him too much, though, as long as none of them landed on him.
“So like we discussed, the theme of today’s shoot is basketball,” the head photographer told them over the persistent chirping. “We’re going for a more natural, playful feeling, so once we finish your pair close-ups, just take a ball and play around on the court and we’ll get it on film.”
The other three NEWS members’ responses were about as sluggish as Massu’s own. The humidity made it difficult to be enthusiastic about anything other than lounging in the shade with a water bottle. The one thing he was thankful for was the basketball uniforms - shorts, sleeveless tops and light material. Twice the risk of horrible sunburn, but half the risk of drowning in your own sweat.
“Masuda-san, Kato-san, we’ll take your shots by the hoops,” the photographer decided for them when no one moved. “Koyama-san, Tegoshi-san, you go and sit in the middle of the court. Let’s get started.”
Getting to his feet felt like it took the utmost effort, and from the way Shige practically dragged himself up the chain link fence he’d been resting against, it seemed he shared the sentiment. The two of them stood side by side, hoping they wouldn’t sweat their makeup off before the shots were taken, and tried to smile through their lethargy.
“This is like public humiliation,” Shige complained through a smile as he and Massu stood arm to arm. “Look at my body compared to yours. I swear, your arms are like twice the size of mine.”
Massu laughed, subtly jabbing Shige with his elbow. “I’m sure your wrist muscles are an impressive sight to behold, Shigeaki-sensei. All that working out at the computer keyboard.”
Shige jabbed him back, a little harder and a little less good naturedly. “I can’t help it if all my talents lie in the arts.”
“Or that your body seems to magnetically repel all sports equipment,” Massu replied innocently. He knew Shige was rolling his eyes without even looking.
“Muscle-bound idiot,” Shige shot back, though this time there was a little laughter in his voice. “I wish I could switch a little of my artistic talent for your sporting talent.”
“If you mixed us together and then split us down the middle, we’d be perfectly balanced,” Massu agreed. Fortunately, Shige has been his friend long enough for that comment not to induce a look of complete bewilderment on Shige’s face.
It was a blessing to finally finish and return to the shade. Koyama and Tegoshi’s took a little longer, so it gave Massu and Shige an opportunity to cool down somewhat while they waited.
It seemed all too soon when Tegoshi finally came bounding over, somehow full of energy now that he was on his feet.
“Time for the free shots! Let’s play a game. Me and Massu vs. Kei-chan and Shige.”
Shige’s face immediately morphed into a scowl. “How is that fair? The the two best sports players in our group on the same team together?”
Tegoshi tried to look innocent, but couldn’t help the smirk that eventually spread across his lips. “Since when have I ever played to lose, Shige? If you wanted me or Massu on your team, you should’ve been faster.”
“I didn’t even know we were playing a game until right now!” Shige protested, but it fell upon selectively-deaf ears.
“You do get Troy on your team,” Massu pointed out. “He was in High School musical, so that has to count for something, right?”
Shige’s expression didn’t lighten. “That was years ago. He’s forgotten everything by now.”
“Please don’t say that like it’s a fact,” Koyama said, sounding a little wounded. “I still remember some tricks.”
His attempt at a finger spin with the basketball he’d carried back over from his shoot with Tegoshi lasted about two seconds, before he lost control of it and the ball bounced across the court and hit the fence with a clang.
Shige buried his face in his hands. “This won’t even be a match. More like a massacre.”
Massu laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll be gentle. I promise.” Then he paused. “Well, I’ll be gentle. I can’t speak for Tegoshi.”
“I can,” Shige grumbled. “And he won’t be.”
Tegoshi fluttered his eyelashes at Shige, but didn’t deny it, and Massu had to choke down another laugh when Shige glowered at him.
Admittedly, it was more than a little unfair. Tegoshi never lost at sports - he hated losing at anything - and Massu had been in the boys’ basketball club during his years at middle school. The fact that Shige sucked at pretty much anything that required physical prowess only added to the unbalance of the teams, but it was for a shoot, not a variety show. As long as the subsequent pictures amused the fans, that was all that mattered.
Despite their certified win, Tegoshi still insisted on a “team” huddle, leaning in close to Massu and lowering his voice to a whisper.
“All we should have to do is block Kei-chan, and then while one of us does that, it should be a piece of cake to get the ball around Shige.”
Massu nodded, brimming with confidence. It had been a while since he’d played basketball, and much longer since he’d played it regularly - it was more than ten years since he’d graduated from junior high school now - but when you were up against a two man team and one of them was Shige… well, what was there not to be confident about?
This question was answered very soon after they started. The ball, unsurprisingly, started off in Tegoshi’s hands. Massu did as they’d planned, positioning himself as near as he could to Shige while still giving Tegoshi a clear shot. As predicted, they got it past him with ease, Tegoshi tossing the ball into Massu’s waiting hands.
He spun around, lined up the shot, threw it at the basket… and hit the rim. The ball ricocheted off it, flying back at great speed, right into Massu’s face. He stumbled back a step and the ball bounced away and, by some fluke of chance, right into Shige’s open hands.
“Oh my god, Massu, are you okay?” Koyama was the first to ask, Tegoshi and Shige echoing the sentiment.
“…yeah…” His nose felt numb where the ball had hit it but, after giving it a bit of a wiggle, confirmed it wasn’t broken. “Mostly. Ow.”
“Are you sure? You really took that ball full on to the face,” Tegoshi said, as though Massu hadn’t noticed this.
“Yeah, it’s fine. We can keep playing. Where’s the ball?”
There was a brief moment when it seemed like time froze, and then they all slowly turned to face Shige who looked down, as though noticing for the first time that he was holding the ball in his outstretched hands.
They all exploded back into action, Shige tossing it wildly to Koyama, who managed to catch it and dribble it down the court while Tegoshi and Massu tried in vain to intercept him. He shot for the basket, the ball teetering precariously on the edge before tipping in and going through.
From the way Koyama and Shige ran across the court to embrace (all caught on camera, of course) you’d have think they’d won the world basketball championship, rather than scored one measly basket.
“Don’t worry about it, Massu,” Tegoshi thumped him on the back. “We’ll get the next one.”
“Right,” Massu nodded.
Tegoshi was, however, not right. Massu felt like he was playing more like an 80-year-old with subpar motor skills rather than someone who’d been on his junior high school basketball team. It seemed that when he had the ball, it wanted to go anywhere except for in his and Tegoshi’s hoop. For the next 20 minutes that the game continued, he managed to miss the hoop entirely, send it shooting half way across the court when he tried to dribble it, hit Shige in the balls (by this point, he had to admit he was only half sorry for that one) and throw it sideways when he meant to throw it straight.
“This is kind of appalling,” he said said bluntly, the 10th time he managed to lose control of the ball.
Shige, on the other hand, seemed on top of the moon. “Have we finally found a sport I can play better than you?”
“No,” Massu replied, deadpan. “I think if you actually tried for a basket instead of leaving everything to Koyama, you’d find we were on pretty equal footing.”
Secretly, he was mostly just bitter than he was sucking about as much as Shige at something that involved physical prowess.
When the game ended Tegoshi and Massu’s team was ahead by two points (it had, after all, still been Tegoshi on one team and Shige on the other, so the result was inevitable) but the match had still been much closer than any of them had predicted.
Not wanting to be pegged as a sore loser, Massu did his best not to complain, but he couldn’t help pouting a bit when they went to get their water bottles.
“I really sucked,” he announced before anyone else could. “That was really bad.”
Koyama smiled at him. “You were just having an off day. I’m sure you’ll be fine the next chance we get to play sports.”
“Yeah. Besides, some good came of it. You made Shige feel better about himself,” Tegoshi said, not bothering to hide the trouble-making glint in his eye.
Shige sniffed, but didn’t deny it. He could probably see how badly Massu was cringing at his own performance, and as much as he liked to complain, he wasn’t a complete dick.
“Thanks guys,” Massu said, spirits lifting. They were right. At least he’d done something for Shige’s confidence, even if it had been entirely unintentional.
“Anyway, it was fun,” Tegoshi continued. “That’s what matters more than the result, right?”
“You say that because you won,” Shige muttered. “But it probably made for a good shoot.”
“It had its moments,” Koyama agreed.
Their catered lunch arrived soon after, and once they finished, the whole thing degenerated into a giant arm wrestling match, with Massu coming out on top. He’d even considered letting Shige best him for a brief second, but had eventually decided against it. This time, it was his ego that needed the healing.
Pairing/Characters: Masuda, Tegoshi, Koyama and Shige
Rating/Warnings: G
Prompt: # 154 Massu really sucks at playing basketball
There was no denying that it was finally summer when the cicadas got deafening enough to drown out the sound of your photographer’s voice, Massu thought. It didn’t bother him too much, though, as long as none of them landed on him.
“So like we discussed, the theme of today’s shoot is basketball,” the head photographer told them over the persistent chirping. “We’re going for a more natural, playful feeling, so once we finish your pair close-ups, just take a ball and play around on the court and we’ll get it on film.”
The other three NEWS members’ responses were about as sluggish as Massu’s own. The humidity made it difficult to be enthusiastic about anything other than lounging in the shade with a water bottle. The one thing he was thankful for was the basketball uniforms - shorts, sleeveless tops and light material. Twice the risk of horrible sunburn, but half the risk of drowning in your own sweat.
“Masuda-san, Kato-san, we’ll take your shots by the hoops,” the photographer decided for them when no one moved. “Koyama-san, Tegoshi-san, you go and sit in the middle of the court. Let’s get started.”
Getting to his feet felt like it took the utmost effort, and from the way Shige practically dragged himself up the chain link fence he’d been resting against, it seemed he shared the sentiment. The two of them stood side by side, hoping they wouldn’t sweat their makeup off before the shots were taken, and tried to smile through their lethargy.
“This is like public humiliation,” Shige complained through a smile as he and Massu stood arm to arm. “Look at my body compared to yours. I swear, your arms are like twice the size of mine.”
Massu laughed, subtly jabbing Shige with his elbow. “I’m sure your wrist muscles are an impressive sight to behold, Shigeaki-sensei. All that working out at the computer keyboard.”
Shige jabbed him back, a little harder and a little less good naturedly. “I can’t help it if all my talents lie in the arts.”
“Or that your body seems to magnetically repel all sports equipment,” Massu replied innocently. He knew Shige was rolling his eyes without even looking.
“Muscle-bound idiot,” Shige shot back, though this time there was a little laughter in his voice. “I wish I could switch a little of my artistic talent for your sporting talent.”
“If you mixed us together and then split us down the middle, we’d be perfectly balanced,” Massu agreed. Fortunately, Shige has been his friend long enough for that comment not to induce a look of complete bewilderment on Shige’s face.
It was a blessing to finally finish and return to the shade. Koyama and Tegoshi’s took a little longer, so it gave Massu and Shige an opportunity to cool down somewhat while they waited.
It seemed all too soon when Tegoshi finally came bounding over, somehow full of energy now that he was on his feet.
“Time for the free shots! Let’s play a game. Me and Massu vs. Kei-chan and Shige.”
Shige’s face immediately morphed into a scowl. “How is that fair? The the two best sports players in our group on the same team together?”
Tegoshi tried to look innocent, but couldn’t help the smirk that eventually spread across his lips. “Since when have I ever played to lose, Shige? If you wanted me or Massu on your team, you should’ve been faster.”
“I didn’t even know we were playing a game until right now!” Shige protested, but it fell upon selectively-deaf ears.
“You do get Troy on your team,” Massu pointed out. “He was in High School musical, so that has to count for something, right?”
Shige’s expression didn’t lighten. “That was years ago. He’s forgotten everything by now.”
“Please don’t say that like it’s a fact,” Koyama said, sounding a little wounded. “I still remember some tricks.”
His attempt at a finger spin with the basketball he’d carried back over from his shoot with Tegoshi lasted about two seconds, before he lost control of it and the ball bounced across the court and hit the fence with a clang.
Shige buried his face in his hands. “This won’t even be a match. More like a massacre.”
Massu laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “We’ll be gentle. I promise.” Then he paused. “Well, I’ll be gentle. I can’t speak for Tegoshi.”
“I can,” Shige grumbled. “And he won’t be.”
Tegoshi fluttered his eyelashes at Shige, but didn’t deny it, and Massu had to choke down another laugh when Shige glowered at him.
Admittedly, it was more than a little unfair. Tegoshi never lost at sports - he hated losing at anything - and Massu had been in the boys’ basketball club during his years at middle school. The fact that Shige sucked at pretty much anything that required physical prowess only added to the unbalance of the teams, but it was for a shoot, not a variety show. As long as the subsequent pictures amused the fans, that was all that mattered.
Despite their certified win, Tegoshi still insisted on a “team” huddle, leaning in close to Massu and lowering his voice to a whisper.
“All we should have to do is block Kei-chan, and then while one of us does that, it should be a piece of cake to get the ball around Shige.”
Massu nodded, brimming with confidence. It had been a while since he’d played basketball, and much longer since he’d played it regularly - it was more than ten years since he’d graduated from junior high school now - but when you were up against a two man team and one of them was Shige… well, what was there not to be confident about?
This question was answered very soon after they started. The ball, unsurprisingly, started off in Tegoshi’s hands. Massu did as they’d planned, positioning himself as near as he could to Shige while still giving Tegoshi a clear shot. As predicted, they got it past him with ease, Tegoshi tossing the ball into Massu’s waiting hands.
He spun around, lined up the shot, threw it at the basket… and hit the rim. The ball ricocheted off it, flying back at great speed, right into Massu’s face. He stumbled back a step and the ball bounced away and, by some fluke of chance, right into Shige’s open hands.
“Oh my god, Massu, are you okay?” Koyama was the first to ask, Tegoshi and Shige echoing the sentiment.
“…yeah…” His nose felt numb where the ball had hit it but, after giving it a bit of a wiggle, confirmed it wasn’t broken. “Mostly. Ow.”
“Are you sure? You really took that ball full on to the face,” Tegoshi said, as though Massu hadn’t noticed this.
“Yeah, it’s fine. We can keep playing. Where’s the ball?”
There was a brief moment when it seemed like time froze, and then they all slowly turned to face Shige who looked down, as though noticing for the first time that he was holding the ball in his outstretched hands.
They all exploded back into action, Shige tossing it wildly to Koyama, who managed to catch it and dribble it down the court while Tegoshi and Massu tried in vain to intercept him. He shot for the basket, the ball teetering precariously on the edge before tipping in and going through.
From the way Koyama and Shige ran across the court to embrace (all caught on camera, of course) you’d have think they’d won the world basketball championship, rather than scored one measly basket.
“Don’t worry about it, Massu,” Tegoshi thumped him on the back. “We’ll get the next one.”
“Right,” Massu nodded.
Tegoshi was, however, not right. Massu felt like he was playing more like an 80-year-old with subpar motor skills rather than someone who’d been on his junior high school basketball team. It seemed that when he had the ball, it wanted to go anywhere except for in his and Tegoshi’s hoop. For the next 20 minutes that the game continued, he managed to miss the hoop entirely, send it shooting half way across the court when he tried to dribble it, hit Shige in the balls (by this point, he had to admit he was only half sorry for that one) and throw it sideways when he meant to throw it straight.
“This is kind of appalling,” he said said bluntly, the 10th time he managed to lose control of the ball.
Shige, on the other hand, seemed on top of the moon. “Have we finally found a sport I can play better than you?”
“No,” Massu replied, deadpan. “I think if you actually tried for a basket instead of leaving everything to Koyama, you’d find we were on pretty equal footing.”
Secretly, he was mostly just bitter than he was sucking about as much as Shige at something that involved physical prowess.
When the game ended Tegoshi and Massu’s team was ahead by two points (it had, after all, still been Tegoshi on one team and Shige on the other, so the result was inevitable) but the match had still been much closer than any of them had predicted.
Not wanting to be pegged as a sore loser, Massu did his best not to complain, but he couldn’t help pouting a bit when they went to get their water bottles.
“I really sucked,” he announced before anyone else could. “That was really bad.”
Koyama smiled at him. “You were just having an off day. I’m sure you’ll be fine the next chance we get to play sports.”
“Yeah. Besides, some good came of it. You made Shige feel better about himself,” Tegoshi said, not bothering to hide the trouble-making glint in his eye.
Shige sniffed, but didn’t deny it. He could probably see how badly Massu was cringing at his own performance, and as much as he liked to complain, he wasn’t a complete dick.
“Thanks guys,” Massu said, spirits lifting. They were right. At least he’d done something for Shige’s confidence, even if it had been entirely unintentional.
“Anyway, it was fun,” Tegoshi continued. “That’s what matters more than the result, right?”
“You say that because you won,” Shige muttered. “But it probably made for a good shoot.”
“It had its moments,” Koyama agreed.
Their catered lunch arrived soon after, and once they finished, the whole thing degenerated into a giant arm wrestling match, with Massu coming out on top. He’d even considered letting Shige best him for a brief second, but had eventually decided against it. This time, it was his ego that needed the healing.