[vday] [kinki, t&t] too sexy for [pt1]
Title: Too sexy for.
Rating: g
Summary: I'm a model you know what I mean / And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Warnings: Talk of eating disorders. Stupid AU.
Notes: Co-written with inocchiroo. This part is mostly mine, the next part is mainly hers. 8Db
*
"So," Tsuyoshi said meaningfully, in a low whisper.
"So..." Tsubasa repeated guiltily.
"When I asked for a model that was relatively unknown but had a bit of an alternative, young sort of look..."
Tsubasa started to edge away carefully.
"You brought me this. Why? What did I ever do to your parents?"
"I think these pants are too small," drifted plaintively over the partition in the dressing room. "The waistband isn't at my waist. Even when I pull."
Tsuyoshi paused and gave Tsubasa a very serious look before opening his mouth. "That-"
"'s because they sit on your hips!" Tsubasa interjected brightly. "I'll come in and help you in a moment, Koichi-san!"
He was answered by the large crash of someone picking a fight with a rack of clothing and losing. Badly. Tsubasa winced but put on his most sincerely honest smile. "He's very pretty. People like to look at him."
"If he weren't, he'd be dead," Tsuyoshi said grimly. "So would you."
Tsubasa pulled an indignant face, eyes wide and mouth in an exceptionally offended O - which immediately snapped shut when yet another plaintive voice interrupted, this time from behind Tsubasa's left shoulder.
"Imai-san," Hideaki said hopefully. "Nice to see you again. Have you been well? Do you remember me? We bumped into each other at a coffee shop, a little while ago."
"Takizawa-san!" Tsubasa said warmly. He turned his back deliberately on Tsuyoshi and edged a bit to block Hideaki from the best of the piercing death glares. "Nice to see you again, too."
"Oh, no no no, pleasure's all mine," Hideaki beamed. "Please, call me Hideaki or Takki or something, Takizawa is much too formal and I hope that we'll have a good relationship. I mean, working relationship."
Tsubasa laughed. "Then you have to call me Tsubasa, I insist."
Tsuyoshi frowned. "Shouldn't you be helping the other Domoto with his pants? Also, you. Manager-san, go feed him or something. If he's too skinny for light to reflect off, we can't use him."
Hideaki flinched guiltily before his best fake show smile slipped into place. "You must be Domoto Tsuyoshi-san. It's a pleasure to finally meet you and I can't say what an honour it is to be working for your company and-"
"I can hear babbling," Koichi yelled from behind the curtain. "Takizawa-san, could you come here and figure out how these pants work." Hideaki flashed an apologetic smile and hurried off.
Tsuyoshi sighed and slapped a hand to his forehead. "He can't dress himself," he said. Tsubasa laughed nervously.
"He's a model? He doesn't need to...?"
"I know you're doing this to get laid," Tsuyoshi said bluntly. "It's not happening."
Tsubasa pulled another highly highly indignant face but Hideaki's slightly frantic "Koichi-san, I don't think you're meant to be doing that like... that!" made him shrug and grin sheepishly.
"I got you one too? They're cute?"
"It's cute how you think I don't think you're still a virgin and not having sex unless you're thirty five and all applicants have been carefully screened and tested for STDs," Tsuyoshi said serenely and sailed off behind the curtain to stop his new model from ruining his new pants.
"I know how to put on pants."
A long, disbelieving silence greeted that statement. Koichi frowned. "No, no, really," he insisted, squirming uncomfortably. "I can dress myself fine."
"You tried to wear lowrise jeans with the waist at your waist," Tsuyoshi said pointedly.
"Please get your fingers out of my waistband," Koichi said in reply, just as politely.
"You tucked your shirt in." Tsuyoshi's eyes were huge and reproachful.
"I think this is sexual harrasment."
"You say that like this isn't your job," Tsuyoshi said dryly and poked Koichi in the ribs, making him squeak and flail.
"I think it's going well," Tsubasa said brightly.
"Koichi-san generally has a good track record for selling clothing," Hideaki said encouragingly. "Mostly suits and uh, Versace couture, but it's all the same."
"Tsuyoshi-nii's designs are always very nice," Tsubasa said proudly. "More wasabi peas?"
"Please," Hideaki said, taking a handful. They were leaning against a wall, discretely out of line of sight as Tsuyoshi fussed over the line of Koichi's clothing, munching through a few bags of snacks.
"Should we be helping them?" Guilt prompted Tsubasa to ask, though the effect was somewhat lessened with how muffled his words were through a handful of rice crackers.
"I think they're enjoying themselves," Hideaki grinned. "Though I'd bet you'd look just as fantastic if you were modeling those clothes."
Tsubasa laughed low and playful. "Really? Flatterer."
"Really!" Hideaki smiled widely. "I think you could give Koichi-san a few lessons."
"I saw his last campaign, with the underwear and the almost naked and how his posters were stolen from the subway displays." Tsubasa peered at Hideaki through his eyelashes. "He's pretty impressive."
Hideaki gulped. "I think you could do it."
"Maybe I could try," Tsubasa said sweetly, leaning in. "If you think I should. I mean, if Koichi-san really needs a hand."
"I-I think it would be best?"
"Ahem."
The two of them sprang apart with a rustle of packets of snack foods, hastily (unsuccessfully) hidden behind backs.
"Tsuyoshi-nii!" Tsubasa said with a guilty smile. "How's the shoot going?"
"I don't design underwear," Tsuyoshi said blandly. "Sorry to disappoint."
"You should branch out," Tsubasa said earnestly, making huge eyes. "It would be very successful."
Hideaki nodded frantically. "The right underwear makes all the difference, or else there can be terrible lines. Really bad. Would ruin the entire outfit."
"Wait, wait!" Koichi yelled from where he was being menaced by a photographer for not posing properly. "I can wear underwear with these pants?"
"No," Tsuyoshi said serenely. "They're too tight."
Koichi made a distressed noise. "I think my circulation is being cut off."
"It's okay," Tsuyoshi said kindly. "You're wearing one of my designs, you don't need underwear. Just look pretty and remember you can actually move."
"I agree. Underwear is so restricting," Tsubasa told Hideaki softly, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "I try to avoid it."
Hideaki squeaked.
"Manager-san," Tsuyoshi said firmly. "If you're not too busy, I think everyone could do with some coffee."
"Coffee," Hideaki repeated dumbly, looking vaguely stunned. "Sure?"
Tsubasa stifled a chuckle. Tsuyoshi's expression didn't change. "From Starbucks. There's one four blocks from here."
"E-Eh?!"
"Triple venti caramel macchiato, extra whipped cream," Tsuyoshi said serenely. "Tsubasa?"
"The same, please," Tsubasa said with an artless smile.
"Right away," Hideaki said, making a near miraculous recovery and snapping a smart salute. "Koichi-san?"
"I can't breathe in these pants. If I eat, I think I'll break something or the pants will break me," Koichi said sadly.
"Get something." Tsuyoshi glowered. "I insist."
"Drip coffee? I really won't fit into these pants otherwise."
"They're skinny jeans," Tsuyoshi said, exceptionally patient. "They're meant to be like that. Get him a cup of whipped cream with caramel sauce," he added, turning back to Hideaki. Hideaki and Tsubasa sprang guiltily apart again.
"Two triple venti caramel macchiatos and a cup of whipped cream," Hideaki repeated obediently, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth and his hands had been in full view the entire time. "Roger."
"Maybe I should go help him carry," Tsubasa suggested innocently, all good innocent G-rated intentions. Hideaki perked up and looked hopefully towards Tsuyoshi.
"Maybe you should stay here and help me fix the lights," Tsuyoshi suggested instead, in a way that made it not so much suggestion as command. "The angle of the lighting is all wrong."
Koichi blinked and looked confused. Hideaki was just indignant but thought better of actually voicing it - but Koichi-san looks good in all lighting! It's one of his sell points! - and sadly scurried off, casting half a dozen lingering looks back over his shoulder.
Tsuyoshi returned back to his previous task of rearranging Koichi to his liking, poking and prodding until Koichi did something interesting. "I can't believe it," he muttered in disgust and turned his eyes to the ceiling to bemoan the travesty towards the gods of fashion. "How can you need a belt on skinny jeans? You offend me."
Tsubasa gave Tsuyoshi a consoling pat on the shoulder. "At least now you can start up a new accessory line?"
"I hate you all," Koichi scowled.
"I'm going to need something stronger than this if I'm going to make it through the rest of the day alive," Tsuyoshi muttered darkly.
"Something stronger?" Hideaki's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Should I have asked them to throw in some extra shots of expresso?"
Tsuyoshi ignored him in favor of groaning. "Your talent is about to choke himself on my tie." Sure enough, gagging noises that sounded suspiciously similar to shortage of air were coming from Koichi's mouth. Hideaki took the hint and hurried off, cup of resuscitating whipped cream in his hand.
Tsubasa sidled up next to Tsuyoshi. "They're cute, right?" he ventured.
Tsuyoshi sniffed. Tsubasa's sense of humor was turning out to be decidedly deranged. "At least your boytoy is eager to please," he said grudgingly. He sipped gingerly from his drink.
"Boytoy?"
Tsubasa gave an inward sigh of relief. If there was anybody who could be counted on to cheer up and distract a dour Tsuyoshi, it was the owner of that voice. "Nagase-kun," he said happily.
"Oh, Tomoya. You're a bit early. Just let me wrap things up and we'll get going." Tsuyoshi stalked off.
Nagase nodded and turned to his victim with a gleam in his eye. "So, what's this I hear about a boytoy?" Tsubasa grinned rather shamefaced, but gestured with his head at the scene in front of them.
Nagase followed his line of sight and turned back to gape at Tsubasa. "Koichi?" he said, incredulity overflowing from his voice. "But you can't," he floundered, "That'll be incest."
"No, no! Not Koichi-san," Tsubasa shook his head vigorously. He paused and then his jaw dropped open. "Wait! What incest? How do you know him?"
The person in question himself didn't seem to care how Nagase had materialized in the studio. Koichi clung onto Nagase's back. "Occhan! They're touching me again," he wailed, oblivious that he was now an easy victim for Nagase's molestation.
Tsuyoshi stalked up to the group, waving a hairbrush menacingly. "For the last time," he said through gritted teeth, "Stop trying to kill yourself and just look pretty." He nodded approvingly at Tomoya. "Good idea. Keep holding him so he won't move."
It occurred to Hideaki that something was afoot. "Wait!" he yelled above the commotion. "What is Nagase-san doing here?"
The Domotos answered simultaneously "To save me!" and turned to glare at each other.
"Look," Nagase said happily as he pulled Tsuyoshi in for a group hug. "My favourite Domotos, all in one place!" then yelped when Koichi dug his heels pointedly in Nagase's ribs and Tsuyoshi, supernaturally calm, reached up to wrap his hands around Nagase's neck.
"To another successful photoshoot, kampai~!" Tsubasa beamed benevolently down the table, raising his glass cheerfully. At the other end of the table, Hideaki beamed back at him.
The rest of the table were nowhere near so cheerful, though all five glasses were dutifully raised. Nagase was happy with a Domoto on his left and another across from him - Koichi securely trapped between his manager and best friend, Nagase's arm wrapped around his shoulders in case of Koichi up and fleeing.
"I have a prior appointment," Koichi had said, opening his squinty eyes as wide as possible.
"That's too bad." Tsubasa's hugely sincere eyes put Koichi's to shame.
Hideaki had looked carefully at Tsubasa's crestfallen face and Tsuyoshi's gloating and the way Nagase had Koichi several centimetres off the floor in a one-armed hug already. "No, you don't," he said helpfully. "Your schedule's completely free."
"No it isn't." Koichi squeaked when Nagase's arm tightened. "There's a race on..."
"Not in this season," Nagase snorted and poked Koichi in the ribs.
Tsuyoshi frowned at them all. "We'll just postpone work drinks to some other unspecified time. Tomoyo, let's go. I need something strong to forget the pain of today."
Tsubasa gave him a devastated look - which soon turned thoughtful. "Well. I guess that's okay," he said sweetly. "But since we've been having so much fun, do you want to come out for a celebratory drink with me, Hide-kun?"
"I-I... yes!" Hideaki was torn between looking like a stunned mullet and beaming. "I mean, that would be nice?" He and Tsubasa smiled at each other, almost too painfully earnest to watch.
"On second thoughts," Tsuyoshi interrupted grimly, staring them down when they turned in unison to look at him, startled out of their own little world. "We should all do a little bonding and the amazing stick over there needs the calories. Let's go."
"E-Eh?" Koichi made a betrayed face at Tsuyoshi, who blithely ignored him.
"You're buying me a drink," Tsuyoshi informed Nagase bluntly. "And the stick a meal."
Nagase nodded agreeably. "It's like you've known him forever," he said and cheerfully hefted Koichi around like he weighed nothing at all.
Ignored, Tsubasa and Hideaki exchanged crestfallen looks in the background.
A half hour later, they were all safely ensconced in a nearby izakaya. The seating arrangements had taken another five minutes, Tsuyoshi playing dictator and shifting everyone around at a whim.
("No, move over. A bit more. No, even further."
"... Tsuyoshi-san, I'm on the next table now."
"Good. Stay there."
"Could you stop picking on my manager? He sometimes comes in handy."
"You, shut up until you at least double your body weight."
"Tsuyoshi-nii is so funny!")
"That was a good shoot, wasn't it?" Tsubasa said brightly. "I really like this new fall line, though it's a little different from what we've done before."
Tsuyoshi grimly slammed down another glass of beer. "I wanted to try something a little more mature."
To his other side, Koichi made round eyes at Nagase. "Clothing style changes?"
"Why are you even a model?" Tsuyoshi asked over Tsubasa's nervous chuckle.
"They told me I was pretty," Koichi said, meltingly sincere. "And if I were good at it, I'd get to pose with all the newest model sports cars."
Tsuyoshi's eyes narrowed. "I think that's only for bikini models." Nagase, in the middle of stealthily pushing a tiny bowl of peanuts in front of Koichi, suddenly froze, his eyes glazing over.
"I'm equal opportunity." Koichi blithely took a handful of nuts and munched on them.
"I'm horrified," Tsuyoshi informed the table blandly. And then, "That doesn't even make sense."
Tsubasa's laugh was a tad too high-pitched for sincere. He and Hideaki exchanged slightly frantic looks then simultaneously turned to the person next to them.
"So, how do you know both Domotos, Nagase-san?" Hideaki chirped with a fixed smile on his face.
"Tsuyoshi-nii, I hear the sashimi platter at this place is really good," Tsubasa said, shoving a menu in Tsuyoshi's face.
Tsuyoshi gave him a withering look and spoke over Koichi's head instead. "Nagase, are you hiding any more Domotos in your pockets?"
"You're all kinda small," Nagase said thoughtfully. He stared down at Koichi, who looked back blankly. "I think both of you would fit."
"No one wants in your pants," Tsuyoshi said flatly.
"Liar," Nagase accused, cheerful. "Everyone wants in my pants. Or wants me out of my pants. I'm easy like that."
"Your pants are too big," Koichi chimed in mournfully.
"It's not just my pants that're bi-"
"I'll kill you." Tsuyoshi's face was entirely serious. "Though I can see why you didn't mention this Domoto."
"I thought you were cousins," Nagase replied easily. "You're both short and in the fashion industry?"
Koichi's laugh was high pitched, nervous. "Profession isn't dictated by genetics!" A beat. "Wait, was that an insult?"
Another beat. Tsuyoshi smiled, decidedly grim. "No, it wasn't," then towards Nagase, "We're nothing alike. You're sort of deranged."
"Hey," Nagase cheered. "Now that everyone knows each other, we're going to have to hang out together. Lots."
For a moment, there was complete silence. Then Koichi's laugh, the hysterical note already very familiar to Tsuyoshi's ears. Hideaki and Tsubasa didn't say anything at all, but that was more to do with the fact that they were suspiciously absent than anything else.
Slowly - carefully - Tsuyoshi moved the various glasses and dishes from in front of him and started to hit his head on the table.
*
Rating: g
Summary: I'm a model you know what I mean / And I do my little turn on the catwalk
Warnings: Talk of eating disorders. Stupid AU.
Notes: Co-written with inocchiroo. This part is mostly mine, the next part is mainly hers. 8Db
*
"So," Tsuyoshi said meaningfully, in a low whisper.
"So..." Tsubasa repeated guiltily.
"When I asked for a model that was relatively unknown but had a bit of an alternative, young sort of look..."
Tsubasa started to edge away carefully.
"You brought me this. Why? What did I ever do to your parents?"
"I think these pants are too small," drifted plaintively over the partition in the dressing room. "The waistband isn't at my waist. Even when I pull."
Tsuyoshi paused and gave Tsubasa a very serious look before opening his mouth. "That-"
"'s because they sit on your hips!" Tsubasa interjected brightly. "I'll come in and help you in a moment, Koichi-san!"
He was answered by the large crash of someone picking a fight with a rack of clothing and losing. Badly. Tsubasa winced but put on his most sincerely honest smile. "He's very pretty. People like to look at him."
"If he weren't, he'd be dead," Tsuyoshi said grimly. "So would you."
Tsubasa pulled an indignant face, eyes wide and mouth in an exceptionally offended O - which immediately snapped shut when yet another plaintive voice interrupted, this time from behind Tsubasa's left shoulder.
"Imai-san," Hideaki said hopefully. "Nice to see you again. Have you been well? Do you remember me? We bumped into each other at a coffee shop, a little while ago."
"Takizawa-san!" Tsubasa said warmly. He turned his back deliberately on Tsuyoshi and edged a bit to block Hideaki from the best of the piercing death glares. "Nice to see you again, too."
"Oh, no no no, pleasure's all mine," Hideaki beamed. "Please, call me Hideaki or Takki or something, Takizawa is much too formal and I hope that we'll have a good relationship. I mean, working relationship."
Tsubasa laughed. "Then you have to call me Tsubasa, I insist."
Tsuyoshi frowned. "Shouldn't you be helping the other Domoto with his pants? Also, you. Manager-san, go feed him or something. If he's too skinny for light to reflect off, we can't use him."
Hideaki flinched guiltily before his best fake show smile slipped into place. "You must be Domoto Tsuyoshi-san. It's a pleasure to finally meet you and I can't say what an honour it is to be working for your company and-"
"I can hear babbling," Koichi yelled from behind the curtain. "Takizawa-san, could you come here and figure out how these pants work." Hideaki flashed an apologetic smile and hurried off.
Tsuyoshi sighed and slapped a hand to his forehead. "He can't dress himself," he said. Tsubasa laughed nervously.
"He's a model? He doesn't need to...?"
"I know you're doing this to get laid," Tsuyoshi said bluntly. "It's not happening."
Tsubasa pulled another highly highly indignant face but Hideaki's slightly frantic "Koichi-san, I don't think you're meant to be doing that like... that!" made him shrug and grin sheepishly.
"I got you one too? They're cute?"
"It's cute how you think I don't think you're still a virgin and not having sex unless you're thirty five and all applicants have been carefully screened and tested for STDs," Tsuyoshi said serenely and sailed off behind the curtain to stop his new model from ruining his new pants.
"I know how to put on pants."
A long, disbelieving silence greeted that statement. Koichi frowned. "No, no, really," he insisted, squirming uncomfortably. "I can dress myself fine."
"You tried to wear lowrise jeans with the waist at your waist," Tsuyoshi said pointedly.
"Please get your fingers out of my waistband," Koichi said in reply, just as politely.
"You tucked your shirt in." Tsuyoshi's eyes were huge and reproachful.
"I think this is sexual harrasment."
"You say that like this isn't your job," Tsuyoshi said dryly and poked Koichi in the ribs, making him squeak and flail.
"I think it's going well," Tsubasa said brightly.
"Koichi-san generally has a good track record for selling clothing," Hideaki said encouragingly. "Mostly suits and uh, Versace couture, but it's all the same."
"Tsuyoshi-nii's designs are always very nice," Tsubasa said proudly. "More wasabi peas?"
"Please," Hideaki said, taking a handful. They were leaning against a wall, discretely out of line of sight as Tsuyoshi fussed over the line of Koichi's clothing, munching through a few bags of snacks.
"Should we be helping them?" Guilt prompted Tsubasa to ask, though the effect was somewhat lessened with how muffled his words were through a handful of rice crackers.
"I think they're enjoying themselves," Hideaki grinned. "Though I'd bet you'd look just as fantastic if you were modeling those clothes."
Tsubasa laughed low and playful. "Really? Flatterer."
"Really!" Hideaki smiled widely. "I think you could give Koichi-san a few lessons."
"I saw his last campaign, with the underwear and the almost naked and how his posters were stolen from the subway displays." Tsubasa peered at Hideaki through his eyelashes. "He's pretty impressive."
Hideaki gulped. "I think you could do it."
"Maybe I could try," Tsubasa said sweetly, leaning in. "If you think I should. I mean, if Koichi-san really needs a hand."
"I-I think it would be best?"
"Ahem."
The two of them sprang apart with a rustle of packets of snack foods, hastily (unsuccessfully) hidden behind backs.
"Tsuyoshi-nii!" Tsubasa said with a guilty smile. "How's the shoot going?"
"I don't design underwear," Tsuyoshi said blandly. "Sorry to disappoint."
"You should branch out," Tsubasa said earnestly, making huge eyes. "It would be very successful."
Hideaki nodded frantically. "The right underwear makes all the difference, or else there can be terrible lines. Really bad. Would ruin the entire outfit."
"Wait, wait!" Koichi yelled from where he was being menaced by a photographer for not posing properly. "I can wear underwear with these pants?"
"No," Tsuyoshi said serenely. "They're too tight."
Koichi made a distressed noise. "I think my circulation is being cut off."
"It's okay," Tsuyoshi said kindly. "You're wearing one of my designs, you don't need underwear. Just look pretty and remember you can actually move."
"I agree. Underwear is so restricting," Tsubasa told Hideaki softly, leaning in to whisper in his ear. "I try to avoid it."
Hideaki squeaked.
"Manager-san," Tsuyoshi said firmly. "If you're not too busy, I think everyone could do with some coffee."
"Coffee," Hideaki repeated dumbly, looking vaguely stunned. "Sure?"
Tsubasa stifled a chuckle. Tsuyoshi's expression didn't change. "From Starbucks. There's one four blocks from here."
"E-Eh?!"
"Triple venti caramel macchiato, extra whipped cream," Tsuyoshi said serenely. "Tsubasa?"
"The same, please," Tsubasa said with an artless smile.
"Right away," Hideaki said, making a near miraculous recovery and snapping a smart salute. "Koichi-san?"
"I can't breathe in these pants. If I eat, I think I'll break something or the pants will break me," Koichi said sadly.
"Get something." Tsuyoshi glowered. "I insist."
"Drip coffee? I really won't fit into these pants otherwise."
"They're skinny jeans," Tsuyoshi said, exceptionally patient. "They're meant to be like that. Get him a cup of whipped cream with caramel sauce," he added, turning back to Hideaki. Hideaki and Tsubasa sprang guiltily apart again.
"Two triple venti caramel macchiatos and a cup of whipped cream," Hideaki repeated obediently, like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth and his hands had been in full view the entire time. "Roger."
"Maybe I should go help him carry," Tsubasa suggested innocently, all good innocent G-rated intentions. Hideaki perked up and looked hopefully towards Tsuyoshi.
"Maybe you should stay here and help me fix the lights," Tsuyoshi suggested instead, in a way that made it not so much suggestion as command. "The angle of the lighting is all wrong."
Koichi blinked and looked confused. Hideaki was just indignant but thought better of actually voicing it - but Koichi-san looks good in all lighting! It's one of his sell points! - and sadly scurried off, casting half a dozen lingering looks back over his shoulder.
Tsuyoshi returned back to his previous task of rearranging Koichi to his liking, poking and prodding until Koichi did something interesting. "I can't believe it," he muttered in disgust and turned his eyes to the ceiling to bemoan the travesty towards the gods of fashion. "How can you need a belt on skinny jeans? You offend me."
Tsubasa gave Tsuyoshi a consoling pat on the shoulder. "At least now you can start up a new accessory line?"
"I hate you all," Koichi scowled.
"I'm going to need something stronger than this if I'm going to make it through the rest of the day alive," Tsuyoshi muttered darkly.
"Something stronger?" Hideaki's eyebrows shot up in alarm. "Should I have asked them to throw in some extra shots of expresso?"
Tsuyoshi ignored him in favor of groaning. "Your talent is about to choke himself on my tie." Sure enough, gagging noises that sounded suspiciously similar to shortage of air were coming from Koichi's mouth. Hideaki took the hint and hurried off, cup of resuscitating whipped cream in his hand.
Tsubasa sidled up next to Tsuyoshi. "They're cute, right?" he ventured.
Tsuyoshi sniffed. Tsubasa's sense of humor was turning out to be decidedly deranged. "At least your boytoy is eager to please," he said grudgingly. He sipped gingerly from his drink.
"Boytoy?"
Tsubasa gave an inward sigh of relief. If there was anybody who could be counted on to cheer up and distract a dour Tsuyoshi, it was the owner of that voice. "Nagase-kun," he said happily.
"Oh, Tomoya. You're a bit early. Just let me wrap things up and we'll get going." Tsuyoshi stalked off.
Nagase nodded and turned to his victim with a gleam in his eye. "So, what's this I hear about a boytoy?" Tsubasa grinned rather shamefaced, but gestured with his head at the scene in front of them.
Nagase followed his line of sight and turned back to gape at Tsubasa. "Koichi?" he said, incredulity overflowing from his voice. "But you can't," he floundered, "That'll be incest."
"No, no! Not Koichi-san," Tsubasa shook his head vigorously. He paused and then his jaw dropped open. "Wait! What incest? How do you know him?"
The person in question himself didn't seem to care how Nagase had materialized in the studio. Koichi clung onto Nagase's back. "Occhan! They're touching me again," he wailed, oblivious that he was now an easy victim for Nagase's molestation.
Tsuyoshi stalked up to the group, waving a hairbrush menacingly. "For the last time," he said through gritted teeth, "Stop trying to kill yourself and just look pretty." He nodded approvingly at Tomoya. "Good idea. Keep holding him so he won't move."
It occurred to Hideaki that something was afoot. "Wait!" he yelled above the commotion. "What is Nagase-san doing here?"
The Domotos answered simultaneously "To save me!" and turned to glare at each other.
"Look," Nagase said happily as he pulled Tsuyoshi in for a group hug. "My favourite Domotos, all in one place!" then yelped when Koichi dug his heels pointedly in Nagase's ribs and Tsuyoshi, supernaturally calm, reached up to wrap his hands around Nagase's neck.
"To another successful photoshoot, kampai~!" Tsubasa beamed benevolently down the table, raising his glass cheerfully. At the other end of the table, Hideaki beamed back at him.
The rest of the table were nowhere near so cheerful, though all five glasses were dutifully raised. Nagase was happy with a Domoto on his left and another across from him - Koichi securely trapped between his manager and best friend, Nagase's arm wrapped around his shoulders in case of Koichi up and fleeing.
"I have a prior appointment," Koichi had said, opening his squinty eyes as wide as possible.
"That's too bad." Tsubasa's hugely sincere eyes put Koichi's to shame.
Hideaki had looked carefully at Tsubasa's crestfallen face and Tsuyoshi's gloating and the way Nagase had Koichi several centimetres off the floor in a one-armed hug already. "No, you don't," he said helpfully. "Your schedule's completely free."
"No it isn't." Koichi squeaked when Nagase's arm tightened. "There's a race on..."
"Not in this season," Nagase snorted and poked Koichi in the ribs.
Tsuyoshi frowned at them all. "We'll just postpone work drinks to some other unspecified time. Tomoyo, let's go. I need something strong to forget the pain of today."
Tsubasa gave him a devastated look - which soon turned thoughtful. "Well. I guess that's okay," he said sweetly. "But since we've been having so much fun, do you want to come out for a celebratory drink with me, Hide-kun?"
"I-I... yes!" Hideaki was torn between looking like a stunned mullet and beaming. "I mean, that would be nice?" He and Tsubasa smiled at each other, almost too painfully earnest to watch.
"On second thoughts," Tsuyoshi interrupted grimly, staring them down when they turned in unison to look at him, startled out of their own little world. "We should all do a little bonding and the amazing stick over there needs the calories. Let's go."
"E-Eh?" Koichi made a betrayed face at Tsuyoshi, who blithely ignored him.
"You're buying me a drink," Tsuyoshi informed Nagase bluntly. "And the stick a meal."
Nagase nodded agreeably. "It's like you've known him forever," he said and cheerfully hefted Koichi around like he weighed nothing at all.
Ignored, Tsubasa and Hideaki exchanged crestfallen looks in the background.
A half hour later, they were all safely ensconced in a nearby izakaya. The seating arrangements had taken another five minutes, Tsuyoshi playing dictator and shifting everyone around at a whim.
("No, move over. A bit more. No, even further."
"... Tsuyoshi-san, I'm on the next table now."
"Good. Stay there."
"Could you stop picking on my manager? He sometimes comes in handy."
"You, shut up until you at least double your body weight."
"Tsuyoshi-nii is so funny!")
"That was a good shoot, wasn't it?" Tsubasa said brightly. "I really like this new fall line, though it's a little different from what we've done before."
Tsuyoshi grimly slammed down another glass of beer. "I wanted to try something a little more mature."
To his other side, Koichi made round eyes at Nagase. "Clothing style changes?"
"Why are you even a model?" Tsuyoshi asked over Tsubasa's nervous chuckle.
"They told me I was pretty," Koichi said, meltingly sincere. "And if I were good at it, I'd get to pose with all the newest model sports cars."
Tsuyoshi's eyes narrowed. "I think that's only for bikini models." Nagase, in the middle of stealthily pushing a tiny bowl of peanuts in front of Koichi, suddenly froze, his eyes glazing over.
"I'm equal opportunity." Koichi blithely took a handful of nuts and munched on them.
"I'm horrified," Tsuyoshi informed the table blandly. And then, "That doesn't even make sense."
Tsubasa's laugh was a tad too high-pitched for sincere. He and Hideaki exchanged slightly frantic looks then simultaneously turned to the person next to them.
"So, how do you know both Domotos, Nagase-san?" Hideaki chirped with a fixed smile on his face.
"Tsuyoshi-nii, I hear the sashimi platter at this place is really good," Tsubasa said, shoving a menu in Tsuyoshi's face.
Tsuyoshi gave him a withering look and spoke over Koichi's head instead. "Nagase, are you hiding any more Domotos in your pockets?"
"You're all kinda small," Nagase said thoughtfully. He stared down at Koichi, who looked back blankly. "I think both of you would fit."
"No one wants in your pants," Tsuyoshi said flatly.
"Liar," Nagase accused, cheerful. "Everyone wants in my pants. Or wants me out of my pants. I'm easy like that."
"Your pants are too big," Koichi chimed in mournfully.
"It's not just my pants that're bi-"
"I'll kill you." Tsuyoshi's face was entirely serious. "Though I can see why you didn't mention this Domoto."
"I thought you were cousins," Nagase replied easily. "You're both short and in the fashion industry?"
Koichi's laugh was high pitched, nervous. "Profession isn't dictated by genetics!" A beat. "Wait, was that an insult?"
Another beat. Tsuyoshi smiled, decidedly grim. "No, it wasn't," then towards Nagase, "We're nothing alike. You're sort of deranged."
"Hey," Nagase cheered. "Now that everyone knows each other, we're going to have to hang out together. Lots."
For a moment, there was complete silence. Then Koichi's laugh, the hysterical note already very familiar to Tsuyoshi's ears. Hideaki and Tsubasa didn't say anything at all, but that was more to do with the fact that they were suspiciously absent than anything else.
Slowly - carefully - Tsuyoshi moved the various glasses and dishes from in front of him and started to hit his head on the table.
*