bunnyfic 40, 41
my hobby of the moment is looping all four language variations of Tackey&Tsubasa's Venus on shuffle and playing "guess what they singing in this time!!" 8D they all sound the same to me lmao, apart from japanese being the obvious. couple of omake/sidestories/backstories kind of thing planned, but the fic is (finally!) by and large winding up. ♥ that said, i disown these two chapters. i really do. *sick of them* :D
AND mousapelli wrote Sideswipe as an outtake from the last chapter, in case you have not seen that yet. :DD ♥
oh and also, i am trialling the tag as demonstrated by helicoptersky~ :D hover to see a translation!
The Second, T41; 74-M.
( 40: may it be )
Tamamori snuffled.
He didn't really want to wake up. It was warm where he was, and soft. Comfortable, except for maybe the vague discomfort in his pants. He frowned a little, brows knitting (just slightly because otherwise he'd get wrinkles). Strange.
Granted, it hadn't been the first time ever he'd woken up needing a shower, but he was fairly sure he usually woke up long before needing a shower quite so badly...
There were a couple of voices irritating the edge of his consciousness as well, both high-pitched and all talk talk talk. Tamamori snuffled a sigh. It didn't look like they were going to shut up any time soon.
They sounded familiar, and foggily he wondered why that was as one faded out of earshot and the talking stopped. He wasn't online, so who did he know? Not many people for real. Defending yourself physically was a lot harder than stringing up a few parasitic hacks online, and so he tended not to...
He'd spied on Miyata once, but that didn't count...
It was mostly just his grandfather and Takizawa's people...
Oh, right. Takizawa's people.
...oh, right. Takizawa's people.
All at once Tamamori remembered exactly why he felt all crusty and gross and lurched upright, ears burning. But his balance was shot. Steadying himself for a moment, he snatched his hands back the next second, eyes flying open amid raucous laughter and the realisation that what he had touched was somebody's rather manly anatomy-
Miyata's, to be precise.
In fact, Tamamori was sitting on him.
"I got it, I got it~" the laughing voice crowed, though it echoed distant in Tamamori's mind. "God, Taipi, your timing sucks! Get your ass back here..."
Tamamori stared.
He was sitting in Miyata's lap, knees flanking Miyata's sides.
Miyata looked kind of dead beneath him, except for the part where his body was still incredibly warm, and... he wasn't dead. And neither was Tamamori.
In fact, Miyata was right there. And so was Tamamori.
Unsteadily, Tamamori reached out again, his hand to Miyata's cheek, his own face on fire but entirely unable to help himself.
It... wasn't actually the first time he'd seen Miyata for real. He'd known the location of Miyata's apartment for a long time, and had physically tracked him home once. But that had been from a distance of several hundred metres, hidden from sight and sound.
This was completely different.
For once, Tamamori blinked, Miyata was within reach.
He reached out his other hand, cupping Miyata's face gently, not quite breathing. Miyata murmured a few unintelligible words in his sleep-objectively, something that was totally uncute, but Tamamori still felt his heart flutter.
"Idiot," he muttered, wondering for a moment if maybe Nikaido had felt something similar back when he'd met Senga...
Well.
Hell, no.
Senga and Nikaido, Tamamori decided, had nothing on the fact that Miyata was in his hands...
"The Tamamori genus (species: Yuuta) is a strange example of primitive life," the background voice narrated. "On the verge of extinction, it has now been brought into protective custody, under which it should live long and potentially prosper. Here, we see it exploring a potential mate... however, the Miyata Toshiya will be unable to help it repopulate..."
"Oh, god," Tamamori breathed, the face for that voice suddenly swimming into focus in his mind. Spell entirely broken and embarrassment back full-force, he looked over his shoulder and into the grinning face of Kawai Fumito.
"Having regained consciousness," Kawai said, "the Tamamori seems to be exhibiting signs of a lingering disorientation, identifying my voiceover as some sort of higher being." Lowering the recorder, he leered. "I'm very good at plenty of things, y'know, but I wouldn't go so far as to say- ow, Taipi!"
Fujigaya strode in and Tamamori was momentarily torn between relief as Kawai was distracted, and further mortification...
His brain decided to go with the further mortification.
Presently it caught up with his surroundings:
"Don't make any more of an ass out of yourself than necessary, hey, Fumi," Fujigaya was saying, and tossed something into Kawai's lap. A data storage device? Tamamori squinted. Then blinked as he recognised his netgear in Kawai's hands.
"Hey-" he started, but then Fujigaya turned around and grinned, and Tamamori's cheeks abruptly tried to roast the rest of his face alive. He shut his mouth.
Fujigaya smiled. "Sooo~ How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Tamamori muttered, curling up to bury his face between Miyata's flank and the back of the couch against Fujigaya's laughter. "Shut up. Go away. Please."
"Aww," Fujigaya teased. "Is that all you have to say? And here I thought at least some thanks were in order. We're the ones who brought you back here safe and sound, you know?"
"And Taipi even volunteered to clean your pants," Kawai added, chipper.
"I did not," Fujigaya snapped. "Tamamori will be cleaning his own pants, won't you, Tamamori?"
"..." Tamamori tried to sink himself through the pores of the formafoam couch by the power of his mind, but it seemed like his influence over the living realm was somewhat diminished at present. "My pants are fine," he muttered. "Leave me alone."
Kawai laughed. "Oh? Smells like a lie."
"Leave me alone."
Fujigaya cleared his throat. "We ought to be nice," he told Kawai. "Watta will blame us if he runs away again, since now that M15's here too, he's got no other excuse."
"Since when were we ever afraid of Old Watta?" Kawai snorted with bravado, until Fujigaya tapped his coldpacted wrist with a smirk.
"...his name's Miyata," Tamamori muttered.
Fujigaya blinked, turning. "What?"
Tamamori kept his face buried in the couch, though one hand sort of flapped back and forth vaguely, fanning the back of his neck. "...I said his name's Miyata. Toshiya. It's a nice name. You should use it, too."
A beat of silence, and Fujigaya looked at Kawai, and Kawai looked at Fujigaya. Then they both burst out laughing.
"...oh my god," Tamamori muttered to himself. "Oh my god... oh my god... oh my god..."
"So weird!" Fujigaya chortled. "'It's a nice name. You should use it, too.'"
"Ooh, Toshiyaaan~ ♥" Kawai cooed, in exactly the girly voice he'd used for the earlier pornographic episode-
Fujigaya stopped laughing. Face slack, smacked Kawai upside the head. "I never want to hear that voice ever again. Are we understood?"
Kawai just waved the abuse away, grinning like an insolent thing. "You'll take that back when I'm done putting the finishing touches on my video, Taipi." Proclamation made, Kawai tucked the little storage device Fujigaya had passed him earlier into his belt and stood, clapping twice. "Transfer complete, and I," he declared grandly, "am going to edit my masterpiece. The original is still in his recorder, okay? Tell Tama-chan to watch it anytime he feels like pulling his face out of the couch's buttcrack."
Fujigaya rolled his eyes. "Get out. Only you'd want someone watching fake porn over having their face in a crack."
Kawai's leer was palpable even after he'd disappeared around the corner.
For a while, silence reigned, and the only movement in the room was Tamamori's hand, waving back and forth, back and forth slowly as he fanned his neck like a broken doll.
"...Tama-chan?" Fujigaya tried at length, when it became clear that Tamamori's sentience wasn't going to fix of its own accord.
"...what," Tamamori said, voice still muffled by a bit of Miyata and a lot of the couch.
"...do you want to get cleaned up?" Fujigaya offered. "I'll show you where the washrooms are, and you can have some of my old clothes. We're probably about the same size..."
Fujigaya, Tamamori thought, and not for the first time, was a lot nicer when it was just him and he had no other stupid male egos to compete with...
Still.
"No," Tamamori muttered, "I don't want to."
Fujigaya's frown was audible. "...that can't be comfortable though," he said. "Your... y'know."
"I'm not leaving," Tamamori reiterated.
"Oh," Fujigaya said, perhaps getting that. "Miyata?"
Tamamori's nod was so small it barely shifted his loose curls, but Fujigaya seemed to understand anyway. "He's not going to disappear, you know," he said, voice soft, and Tamamori was surprised by the accompanying touch of a gentle hand on his shoulder. "He's safe here, dead to the government. And you'll be safe too, when Tono registers you."
His words were the truth, and he meant them, Tamamori knew, but still...
"...you wouldn't understand," he muttered, burrowing, if possible, even deeper into the side of the couch.
"Tcht," Fujigaya sighed. "Don't think you're the only one who's been through drama here, kid. But anyway, I get it, I get it." His hand disappeared from Tamamori's shoulder with a patronising pat, and dusted off noisily. "I'll leave you symbiotic freaks alone."
Tamamori said nothing, but Fujigaya went on regardless, re-filling his pockets with the items on the coffee table as he spoke: "I'll tell Watta he should upload the floor plans from this place to your netgear so you can find the washrooms yourself, later. And find my room, if you want some clothes to change into after all. Just knock first. What else...? Ah, well. You know where to find Watchtower anyway. Watta's regular haunt hasn't changed since last time you were here, so ask him anything else you need to know when you take him your netgear. It's here on the table, by the way." He set the article in question straight, facing Tamamori so it couldn't be missed.
Finally, Tamamori peeked an eye out from under his tousled bangs. His cheeks were still gently pink, but otherwise no worse for wear. "...thanks," he said softly. "Fujigaya-kun."
Fujigaya gave a wry smile over his shoulder, pausing on his way out the door. "I guess Miyata taught you that? I heard he's fluent in Old Local."
Tamamori nodded.
"Hn. That's nice, I guess. Handy or something," Fujigaya waved absently. "Either way, call me Taipi from now on, okay? Everyone else does."
"...Taipi?" Tamamori echoed, deadpan. But Fujigaya disappeared before he could ask what the '-pi' part had to do with anything.
M15, 74-M; T41, Watchtower.
( 41: ai ja nai? )
"...they're gone now, right?" Miyata whispered. "Both of them?"
Judging by how nobody started laughing at the childlike way Tamamori squeaked in surprise, Miyata surmised that it was probably safe to open his eyes.
And open them he did, meeting with the pretty, pretty picture of Tamamori with his cheeks flushed and bangs all messed up adorably...
Big brown eyes blazing in anger.
"You were awake all this time?!" Tamamori hissed, slapping at Miyata's chest. "Why didn't you say something? I nearly died of embarrassment back there!"
"まぁ～" Miyata chuckled, easily fending off Tamamori's half-hearted blows. "But Taipi would never have left if he knew, I think, right?"
"Taipi is an idiot," Tamamori said with feeling. "What if I'd gone with him and left you here?"
"Hm?" Miyata couldn't really help the big dorky grin that was splitting his face, and wrapped his arms around Tamamori's middle. "Well, I didn't think you would leave me by myself. But anyway, it's your prerogative to have comfortable pants," he added, giving Tamamori's waist a tight squeeze. "I changed mine before leaving the house."
"Can everybody please just leave my pants out of the equation for two seconds?" Tamamori said, fanning himself in exasperation. "Why were you leaving your house? When? Did Takizawa's people go get you, too? And if so, then why were you sleeping, too?"
Miyata blinked at Tamamori's tone, teasing forgotten, and wriggled himself up into a mostly sitting position. "...well, yes and no. I mean, for them getting me. After the beach when you 消えちゃった、コードをチェックした and it said you'd FD'd, so I was going to..."
"So you were going to find me?" Tamamori demanded. "You and whose grid-search army?"
Miyata rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. "Well, I was going to go into HQ and check the records for your location, and um. Stuff." Sort of. He'd planned, he recalled, to try call off the chasers that would have been sent after Tamamori as well, and certain other silly and ambitious things that entailed hacking the government system from inside. "They were watching me because they wanted information on Takizawa, and overlooking you... But with an opportunity like the one we gave them, somebody would've taken it, Takizawa or no." Miyata chuckled. "I'm pretty useless, I think, but I couldn't just sit there and let them lynch you!"
Tamamori was not amused. "You would have gotten killed," he snapped, and Miyata blinked again. Petty annoyances, yes, but he'd never seen Tamamori quite this angry before. "And that would have been the most useless thing you've ever done yet!"
"Well..." Well, yes, Miyata thought. He had known all along that going to HQ probably wouldn't have helped, and would probably just have ended in his own capture and termination. But then, dying in the line of a loved one's protection was something that maybe ran in his family. His father had done it for him years ago, and Miyata would gladly have done it for Tamamori rather than just sit there and wonder 'but what if I'd' if he never saw his contact sequence online ever again.
"It would have been worth it to try," Miyata said firmly. "You're important to me."
Tamamori seemed beside himself, hands balled into shaking fists and countenance dark. "I've never heard so much bullshit. Don't you dare do it again."
"何を?" Miyata asked, brow furrowed. He reached out to Tamamori's cheek, but Tamamori slapped his hand away, glaring.
"That!" he snapped. "Or that! I-" To Miyata's surprise, very suddenly Tamamori's breath hitched and tears welled up in his stormy eyes. "They would have killed you and it would've been my fault and you-"
For several long moments, Miyata just stared. Tamamori was... crying? He'd never seen another person cry before in his life, let alone brought someone to tears himself. At a loss of what to do, Miyata sat dumbstruck until a little Senga voice in his mind said, 'You know, I think somebody needs a hug...' (and 'Douchebag,' added his companion Nikaido voice).
"I... I'm sorry?" Miyata hazarded, reaching up to try tug Tamamori's hands from his eyes as carefully as he could.
"You're an idiot is what you are," Tamamori told him vehemently, ducking to hide his face in Miyata's neck instead and clinging to him almost desperately.
Ah~ but Miyata understood that kind of abuse well. With a gentle smile, he slipped his arms around Tamamori's waist to hold him close. "それだけどね、こんなバカね、愛してるよ♥ 裕太～"
"...idiot," Tamamori reiterated, sobbing all the harder.
"まぁ～" Miyata said softly, smoothing his hands down Tamamori's back. "もう大丈夫よ..." Closing his eyes, he rested his head against Tamamori's and just breathed, the smell of Tamamori's skin and hair burrowing into his memory with the little sounds Tamamori made, now that he could know it all for real.
It was a strange scent, Miyata thought absently, on the one hand sweet like fresh water, on the other a little odd, like a cinnamon donut dipped in milk. His fingers traced words of the old script down the bumps of Tamamori's spine of their own accord, phrases like 「泣かないで」 and 「そばにいるよ」 and 「ＯＫでしょう?」 that his father had told him once upon a time, and slowly, eventually, Tamamori calmed.
"...I still think it would've been worth it," Miyata said.
"-don't you start again now," Tamamori told him darkly, digging his chin sharply into Miyata's shoulder.
"イタ、ちょっと, hear me out!" Miyata winced. Taking Tamamori's little 'Hn' to mean 'fine', he sighed. "See... I know it was a really, really remote chance, but... I thought, if I made it... and found you... and saved you..." Wordlessly, Tamamori's grip tightened around Miyata's shoulders. Smiling now, Miyata went on, "I thought... well, then we'd both be wanted, right? And then we could live together... running from the government..."
"..." When after a few seconds it became clear that that was all there was to Miyata's fairytale scenario, Tamamori sat back with a last sniffle, wiping his eyes to regard Miyata with a critical frown. "Your idea of a happy ending needs a lot of work, I think."
"Well..." Miyata suggested, hopeful. "The princess gets a kiss of eternal love?"
Tamamori crossed his arms and said matter-of-factly, "The princess hasn't yet gotten anything of the sort." But when Miyata leaned in to perhaps rectify that problem, Tamamori stopped him short with a poke to the nose. "そして?"
"Eh?" Miyata blinked, looking cross-eyed at Tamamori's finger before flicking his gaze up to Tamamori himself. "そして?"
"そ、し、て," Tamamori said, clearly spelling out his terms of engagement, "the prince promises never to run off and endanger his life like a stupid kamikaze with no brain ever again. Okay?"
"...um," Miyata said, deadpan. "約束しません."
"約束しなさい," Tamamori frowned.
"...できない," Miyata said, but continued, laughing, when Tamamori raised a hand as if to slap him: "Unless, unless, unless! The princess is never again in danger."
Tamamori gave limp sigh, seeming to physically deflate. "You're useless."
"分かってるよ," Miyata grinned.
Tamamori gave a small snort, looking away. "Use. Less. But it should be fine, right? I mean, after I'm registered, it'll be fine. And the government thinks you're dead according to Fujigaya. I don't think either of us will be leaving this place in a hurry..."
"そうだね," Miyata said, grinning his no-eyes dorky smile. "So, 約束しようぜ!" He leaned in again.
This time Tamamori let him, closing his eyes and gently threading his fingers through Miyata's hair as Miyata pressed his lips to Tamamori's briefly, almost shy. He smiled when he felt Tamamori's lips curve upward just slightly and kissed him again, a little longer, a little more possessive, and pressed his palms against the small of Tamamori's back, nudging him closer.
Tamamori pulled back first, resting his forehead against Miyata's and taking a deep breath. His eyes were still puffy and red-rimmed, hair still in tousled disarray, but when he sat back and looked up, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile and it was the most beautiful thing that Miyata had ever seen.
"I... 愛してる、裕太," he said softly as he stared, reverent and serious. "I totally just... 愛してる."
And like an angel, Tamamori smiled for real. "分かってる..." he said. And: "ね... 俊哉、俺も."
*
"Aww~" Fujigaya said, reclined with his legs up and hands behind his head in Watchtower's whiteroom. The feed from Tamamori's netgear played out on a virtual flatscreen floating in the air; Fujigaya had left the recorder running on the table upon leaving the common room. "Now there's a script."
"Hm," Yokoo said, lying on his stomach, chin propped up in one hand and legs slowly kicking. Kick, kick. Kick, kick. "Sweet enough I suppose, but they sure like to beat around the bush."
"I think they're just inept," Fujigaya said, and Yokoo gave him a funny look. "What? It's endearing. Kind of. The way they keep missing wavelengths." He made a couple of hand motions like Mass Public Transport carriers travelling in opposite directions on different sets of tracks.
But then the flatscreen cut to black, and two more screens on either side of it materialised to display the two empty doorways leading to the common room.
"...Ii-chan?" Fujigaya said, perhaps the trace of a pout in his voice.
"They're still kissing, if you have to know," Iida reported. "No further updates available."
Yokoo laughed as Fujigaya's face fell into a proper pout at the news. "Prude," he accused.
"Sorry, Taisuke," Iida said unapologetically, "but I've had quite enough images of those two through my network for today."
"Can't you override him, Yokoo-san?" Fujigaya asked; Yokoo opened his mouth to answer, but.
"Takizawa-dono hails," Iida cut in. "Requesting forms for Hashimoto."
"I'm on it," Yokoo said instead, and grinned. "Sorry, Taipi. Priorities and all that."
"I'll page you if Tamamori or Miyata leave their current location," Iida said.
Yokoo nodded. "He'll want to meet them, too, so I'll let him know they're awake while I'm over there."
"Understood," Iida said as Yokoo disappeared from the whiteroom.
A silence ensued, lengthy by Fujigaya's standards. "...they're not going to leave for ages anyway," he said unhappily at last. "Your silence doesn't have to be so smug."
"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," Iida chuckled. But then there was a pause. "...perhaps you should log off, too. It seems that Kawai-kun needs some help with his project, given the number of times he's pinged my FAQ within the last ten minutes... and just then again."
"That moron," Fujigaya grumbled, "it's his own fault for liking all the outdated tech so much. Can you connect me to his terminal instead, Kyonbei? I can't be bothered going. His room smells."
"Done," Iida said.
"Oi, Fumi!" Fujigaya called, staring absently up at the whiteroom 'ceiling'.
Before his eyes, text swam into view as Kawai typed it up on the ancient keyboard in his room. wat
"What's your problem?" Fujigaya said. He knew from experience that his voice would either be appearing as text in one of Kawai's flatscreen windows, or playing from his terminal's speakers depending on the settings of the day. "Ii-chan says you have one."
"Not like that," Iida protested. But Fujigaya just grinned.
ur ass is my problm, Kawai replied. go away im busy
"Yeah, busy raping the FAQ," Fujigaya said. "Here. Let me send you something that should help with your project. Watch it and learn." Aside, he said: "Ii-chan, transfer the recording from Tamamori's gear in 2D? Please?"
"Done," Iida said. And continued after a beat: "...you should watch it with him. Pass on Yokoo-san's poison comments. Make sure Kawai-kun actually appreciates it."
wtf is this
"Just shut up and press play, Fumito," Fujigaya told him. Then aside to Iida: "You really don't want me here, do you Ii-chan?"
"It's not that," Iida said.
"Sure it's not."
"I mean... well. What do you think about torturing the cyber boys later? It's been a long day for both of them after all. And Takizawa-dono won't be pleased if they're in tears when they meet him."
Fujigaya clicked his tongue. "You're worried I'll scar them when they come here looking for Watta?" he asked. "I'm not all a mean sack of bones, Ii-chan. You overestimate my capacity for senseless cruelty."
"Do I though?" Iida chuckled. In the middle of the whiteroom, a large folder labelled MEAN TAIPI appeared and opened, a pair of invisible hands beginning to rifle through it, flicking through sheaves of paper. "Allow me to draw your attention to your bad mood three days ago, during which Nikaido poked you one too many times. Or perhaps the instance Kento logged in to your skate training scenario as a guinea pig. Or maybe-"
"Okaaay, okay, I get it!" Fujigaya mock-huffed, and hauled himself up from the whiteroom floor. "No need to dig too deep into History, I'm going, I'm going."
Iida chuckled, and the folder disappeared.
"You owe me a lot of amusement for this," Fujigaya told him, materialising himself an exit and reaching for its handle.
"And you will be repaid in full," Iida promised, locking the virtual door in Fujigaya's wake.
1- acronym tag/hover thing, y/n? 8D; i'm contemplating going back to find all the japanese in this fic and converting it... and smacking my head against a wall in the process. what do you reckon? :3 it seems easier than scrolling to the bottom to me, but idk.
2- seriously, i disown these chapters. ♥ i'll probably wake up tomorrow and do a whole bunch of nitpicky edits after school.
3- urk, late. T_T speaking of school. *goes to bed*
AND mousapelli wrote Sideswipe as an outtake from the last chapter, in case you have not seen that yet. :DD ♥
oh and also, i am trialling the tag as demonstrated by helicoptersky~ :D hover to see a translation!
The Second, T41; 74-M.
( 40: may it be )
Tamamori snuffled.
He didn't really want to wake up. It was warm where he was, and soft. Comfortable, except for maybe the vague discomfort in his pants. He frowned a little, brows knitting (just slightly because otherwise he'd get wrinkles). Strange.
Granted, it hadn't been the first time ever he'd woken up needing a shower, but he was fairly sure he usually woke up long before needing a shower quite so badly...
There were a couple of voices irritating the edge of his consciousness as well, both high-pitched and all talk talk talk. Tamamori snuffled a sigh. It didn't look like they were going to shut up any time soon.
They sounded familiar, and foggily he wondered why that was as one faded out of earshot and the talking stopped. He wasn't online, so who did he know? Not many people for real. Defending yourself physically was a lot harder than stringing up a few parasitic hacks online, and so he tended not to...
He'd spied on Miyata once, but that didn't count...
It was mostly just his grandfather and Takizawa's people...
Oh, right. Takizawa's people.
...oh, right. Takizawa's people.
All at once Tamamori remembered exactly why he felt all crusty and gross and lurched upright, ears burning. But his balance was shot. Steadying himself for a moment, he snatched his hands back the next second, eyes flying open amid raucous laughter and the realisation that what he had touched was somebody's rather manly anatomy-
Miyata's, to be precise.
In fact, Tamamori was sitting on him.
"I got it, I got it~" the laughing voice crowed, though it echoed distant in Tamamori's mind. "God, Taipi, your timing sucks! Get your ass back here..."
Tamamori stared.
He was sitting in Miyata's lap, knees flanking Miyata's sides.
Miyata looked kind of dead beneath him, except for the part where his body was still incredibly warm, and... he wasn't dead. And neither was Tamamori.
In fact, Miyata was right there. And so was Tamamori.
Unsteadily, Tamamori reached out again, his hand to Miyata's cheek, his own face on fire but entirely unable to help himself.
It... wasn't actually the first time he'd seen Miyata for real. He'd known the location of Miyata's apartment for a long time, and had physically tracked him home once. But that had been from a distance of several hundred metres, hidden from sight and sound.
This was completely different.
For once, Tamamori blinked, Miyata was within reach.
He reached out his other hand, cupping Miyata's face gently, not quite breathing. Miyata murmured a few unintelligible words in his sleep-objectively, something that was totally uncute, but Tamamori still felt his heart flutter.
"Idiot," he muttered, wondering for a moment if maybe Nikaido had felt something similar back when he'd met Senga...
Well.
Hell, no.
Senga and Nikaido, Tamamori decided, had nothing on the fact that Miyata was in his hands...
"The Tamamori genus (species: Yuuta) is a strange example of primitive life," the background voice narrated. "On the verge of extinction, it has now been brought into protective custody, under which it should live long and potentially prosper. Here, we see it exploring a potential mate... however, the Miyata Toshiya will be unable to help it repopulate..."
"Oh, god," Tamamori breathed, the face for that voice suddenly swimming into focus in his mind. Spell entirely broken and embarrassment back full-force, he looked over his shoulder and into the grinning face of Kawai Fumito.
"Having regained consciousness," Kawai said, "the Tamamori seems to be exhibiting signs of a lingering disorientation, identifying my voiceover as some sort of higher being." Lowering the recorder, he leered. "I'm very good at plenty of things, y'know, but I wouldn't go so far as to say- ow, Taipi!"
Fujigaya strode in and Tamamori was momentarily torn between relief as Kawai was distracted, and further mortification...
His brain decided to go with the further mortification.
Presently it caught up with his surroundings:
"Don't make any more of an ass out of yourself than necessary, hey, Fumi," Fujigaya was saying, and tossed something into Kawai's lap. A data storage device? Tamamori squinted. Then blinked as he recognised his netgear in Kawai's hands.
"Hey-" he started, but then Fujigaya turned around and grinned, and Tamamori's cheeks abruptly tried to roast the rest of his face alive. He shut his mouth.
Fujigaya smiled. "Sooo~ How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine," Tamamori muttered, curling up to bury his face between Miyata's flank and the back of the couch against Fujigaya's laughter. "Shut up. Go away. Please."
"Aww," Fujigaya teased. "Is that all you have to say? And here I thought at least some thanks were in order. We're the ones who brought you back here safe and sound, you know?"
"And Taipi even volunteered to clean your pants," Kawai added, chipper.
"I did not," Fujigaya snapped. "Tamamori will be cleaning his own pants, won't you, Tamamori?"
"..." Tamamori tried to sink himself through the pores of the formafoam couch by the power of his mind, but it seemed like his influence over the living realm was somewhat diminished at present. "My pants are fine," he muttered. "Leave me alone."
Kawai laughed. "Oh? Smells like a lie."
"Leave me alone."
Fujigaya cleared his throat. "We ought to be nice," he told Kawai. "Watta will blame us if he runs away again, since now that M15's here too, he's got no other excuse."
"Since when were we ever afraid of Old Watta?" Kawai snorted with bravado, until Fujigaya tapped his coldpacted wrist with a smirk.
"...his name's Miyata," Tamamori muttered.
Fujigaya blinked, turning. "What?"
Tamamori kept his face buried in the couch, though one hand sort of flapped back and forth vaguely, fanning the back of his neck. "...I said his name's Miyata. Toshiya. It's a nice name. You should use it, too."
A beat of silence, and Fujigaya looked at Kawai, and Kawai looked at Fujigaya. Then they both burst out laughing.
"...oh my god," Tamamori muttered to himself. "Oh my god... oh my god... oh my god..."
"So weird!" Fujigaya chortled. "'It's a nice name. You should use it, too.'"
"Ooh, Toshiyaaan~ ♥" Kawai cooed, in exactly the girly voice he'd used for the earlier pornographic episode-
Fujigaya stopped laughing. Face slack, smacked Kawai upside the head. "I never want to hear that voice ever again. Are we understood?"
Kawai just waved the abuse away, grinning like an insolent thing. "You'll take that back when I'm done putting the finishing touches on my video, Taipi." Proclamation made, Kawai tucked the little storage device Fujigaya had passed him earlier into his belt and stood, clapping twice. "Transfer complete, and I," he declared grandly, "am going to edit my masterpiece. The original is still in his recorder, okay? Tell Tama-chan to watch it anytime he feels like pulling his face out of the couch's buttcrack."
Fujigaya rolled his eyes. "Get out. Only you'd want someone watching fake porn over having their face in a crack."
Kawai's leer was palpable even after he'd disappeared around the corner.
For a while, silence reigned, and the only movement in the room was Tamamori's hand, waving back and forth, back and forth slowly as he fanned his neck like a broken doll.
"...Tama-chan?" Fujigaya tried at length, when it became clear that Tamamori's sentience wasn't going to fix of its own accord.
"...what," Tamamori said, voice still muffled by a bit of Miyata and a lot of the couch.
"...do you want to get cleaned up?" Fujigaya offered. "I'll show you where the washrooms are, and you can have some of my old clothes. We're probably about the same size..."
Fujigaya, Tamamori thought, and not for the first time, was a lot nicer when it was just him and he had no other stupid male egos to compete with...
Still.
"No," Tamamori muttered, "I don't want to."
Fujigaya's frown was audible. "...that can't be comfortable though," he said. "Your... y'know."
"I'm not leaving," Tamamori reiterated.
"Oh," Fujigaya said, perhaps getting that. "Miyata?"
Tamamori's nod was so small it barely shifted his loose curls, but Fujigaya seemed to understand anyway. "He's not going to disappear, you know," he said, voice soft, and Tamamori was surprised by the accompanying touch of a gentle hand on his shoulder. "He's safe here, dead to the government. And you'll be safe too, when Tono registers you."
His words were the truth, and he meant them, Tamamori knew, but still...
"...you wouldn't understand," he muttered, burrowing, if possible, even deeper into the side of the couch.
"Tcht," Fujigaya sighed. "Don't think you're the only one who's been through drama here, kid. But anyway, I get it, I get it." His hand disappeared from Tamamori's shoulder with a patronising pat, and dusted off noisily. "I'll leave you symbiotic freaks alone."
Tamamori said nothing, but Fujigaya went on regardless, re-filling his pockets with the items on the coffee table as he spoke: "I'll tell Watta he should upload the floor plans from this place to your netgear so you can find the washrooms yourself, later. And find my room, if you want some clothes to change into after all. Just knock first. What else...? Ah, well. You know where to find Watchtower anyway. Watta's regular haunt hasn't changed since last time you were here, so ask him anything else you need to know when you take him your netgear. It's here on the table, by the way." He set the article in question straight, facing Tamamori so it couldn't be missed.
Finally, Tamamori peeked an eye out from under his tousled bangs. His cheeks were still gently pink, but otherwise no worse for wear. "...thanks," he said softly. "Fujigaya-kun."
Fujigaya gave a wry smile over his shoulder, pausing on his way out the door. "I guess Miyata taught you that? I heard he's fluent in Old Local."
Tamamori nodded.
"Hn. That's nice, I guess. Handy or something," Fujigaya waved absently. "Either way, call me Taipi from now on, okay? Everyone else does."
"...Taipi?" Tamamori echoed, deadpan. But Fujigaya disappeared before he could ask what the '-pi' part had to do with anything.
M15, 74-M; T41, Watchtower.
( 41: ai ja nai? )
"...they're gone now, right?" Miyata whispered. "Both of them?"
Judging by how nobody started laughing at the childlike way Tamamori squeaked in surprise, Miyata surmised that it was probably safe to open his eyes.
And open them he did, meeting with the pretty, pretty picture of Tamamori with his cheeks flushed and bangs all messed up adorably...
Big brown eyes blazing in anger.
"You were awake all this time?!" Tamamori hissed, slapping at Miyata's chest. "Why didn't you say something? I nearly died of embarrassment back there!"
"まぁ～" Miyata chuckled, easily fending off Tamamori's half-hearted blows. "But Taipi would never have left if he knew, I think, right?"
"Taipi is an idiot," Tamamori said with feeling. "What if I'd gone with him and left you here?"
"Hm?" Miyata couldn't really help the big dorky grin that was splitting his face, and wrapped his arms around Tamamori's middle. "Well, I didn't think you would leave me by myself. But anyway, it's your prerogative to have comfortable pants," he added, giving Tamamori's waist a tight squeeze. "I changed mine before leaving the house."
"Can everybody please just leave my pants out of the equation for two seconds?" Tamamori said, fanning himself in exasperation. "Why were you leaving your house? When? Did Takizawa's people go get you, too? And if so, then why were you sleeping, too?"
Miyata blinked at Tamamori's tone, teasing forgotten, and wriggled himself up into a mostly sitting position. "...well, yes and no. I mean, for them getting me. After the beach when you 消えちゃった、コードをチェックした and it said you'd FD'd, so I was going to..."
"So you were going to find me?" Tamamori demanded. "You and whose grid-search army?"
Miyata rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. "Well, I was going to go into HQ and check the records for your location, and um. Stuff." Sort of. He'd planned, he recalled, to try call off the chasers that would have been sent after Tamamori as well, and certain other silly and ambitious things that entailed hacking the government system from inside. "They were watching me because they wanted information on Takizawa, and overlooking you... But with an opportunity like the one we gave them, somebody would've taken it, Takizawa or no." Miyata chuckled. "I'm pretty useless, I think, but I couldn't just sit there and let them lynch you!"
Tamamori was not amused. "You would have gotten killed," he snapped, and Miyata blinked again. Petty annoyances, yes, but he'd never seen Tamamori quite this angry before. "And that would have been the most useless thing you've ever done yet!"
"Well..." Well, yes, Miyata thought. He had known all along that going to HQ probably wouldn't have helped, and would probably just have ended in his own capture and termination. But then, dying in the line of a loved one's protection was something that maybe ran in his family. His father had done it for him years ago, and Miyata would gladly have done it for Tamamori rather than just sit there and wonder 'but what if I'd' if he never saw his contact sequence online ever again.
"It would have been worth it to try," Miyata said firmly. "You're important to me."
Tamamori seemed beside himself, hands balled into shaking fists and countenance dark. "I've never heard so much bullshit. Don't you dare do it again."
"何を?" Miyata asked, brow furrowed. He reached out to Tamamori's cheek, but Tamamori slapped his hand away, glaring.
"That!" he snapped. "Or that! I-" To Miyata's surprise, very suddenly Tamamori's breath hitched and tears welled up in his stormy eyes. "They would have killed you and it would've been my fault and you-"
For several long moments, Miyata just stared. Tamamori was... crying? He'd never seen another person cry before in his life, let alone brought someone to tears himself. At a loss of what to do, Miyata sat dumbstruck until a little Senga voice in his mind said, 'You know, I think somebody needs a hug...' (and 'Douchebag,' added his companion Nikaido voice).
"I... I'm sorry?" Miyata hazarded, reaching up to try tug Tamamori's hands from his eyes as carefully as he could.
"You're an idiot is what you are," Tamamori told him vehemently, ducking to hide his face in Miyata's neck instead and clinging to him almost desperately.
Ah~ but Miyata understood that kind of abuse well. With a gentle smile, he slipped his arms around Tamamori's waist to hold him close. "それだけどね、こんなバカね、愛してるよ♥ 裕太～"
"...idiot," Tamamori reiterated, sobbing all the harder.
"まぁ～" Miyata said softly, smoothing his hands down Tamamori's back. "もう大丈夫よ..." Closing his eyes, he rested his head against Tamamori's and just breathed, the smell of Tamamori's skin and hair burrowing into his memory with the little sounds Tamamori made, now that he could know it all for real.
It was a strange scent, Miyata thought absently, on the one hand sweet like fresh water, on the other a little odd, like a cinnamon donut dipped in milk. His fingers traced words of the old script down the bumps of Tamamori's spine of their own accord, phrases like 「泣かないで」 and 「そばにいるよ」 and 「ＯＫでしょう?」 that his father had told him once upon a time, and slowly, eventually, Tamamori calmed.
"...I still think it would've been worth it," Miyata said.
"-don't you start again now," Tamamori told him darkly, digging his chin sharply into Miyata's shoulder.
"イタ、ちょっと, hear me out!" Miyata winced. Taking Tamamori's little 'Hn' to mean 'fine', he sighed. "See... I know it was a really, really remote chance, but... I thought, if I made it... and found you... and saved you..." Wordlessly, Tamamori's grip tightened around Miyata's shoulders. Smiling now, Miyata went on, "I thought... well, then we'd both be wanted, right? And then we could live together... running from the government..."
"..." When after a few seconds it became clear that that was all there was to Miyata's fairytale scenario, Tamamori sat back with a last sniffle, wiping his eyes to regard Miyata with a critical frown. "Your idea of a happy ending needs a lot of work, I think."
"Well..." Miyata suggested, hopeful. "The princess gets a kiss of eternal love?"
Tamamori crossed his arms and said matter-of-factly, "The princess hasn't yet gotten anything of the sort." But when Miyata leaned in to perhaps rectify that problem, Tamamori stopped him short with a poke to the nose. "そして?"
"Eh?" Miyata blinked, looking cross-eyed at Tamamori's finger before flicking his gaze up to Tamamori himself. "そして?"
"そ、し、て," Tamamori said, clearly spelling out his terms of engagement, "the prince promises never to run off and endanger his life like a stupid kamikaze with no brain ever again. Okay?"
"...um," Miyata said, deadpan. "約束しません."
"約束しなさい," Tamamori frowned.
"...できない," Miyata said, but continued, laughing, when Tamamori raised a hand as if to slap him: "Unless, unless, unless! The princess is never again in danger."
Tamamori gave limp sigh, seeming to physically deflate. "You're useless."
"分かってるよ," Miyata grinned.
Tamamori gave a small snort, looking away. "Use. Less. But it should be fine, right? I mean, after I'm registered, it'll be fine. And the government thinks you're dead according to Fujigaya. I don't think either of us will be leaving this place in a hurry..."
"そうだね," Miyata said, grinning his no-eyes dorky smile. "So, 約束しようぜ!" He leaned in again.
This time Tamamori let him, closing his eyes and gently threading his fingers through Miyata's hair as Miyata pressed his lips to Tamamori's briefly, almost shy. He smiled when he felt Tamamori's lips curve upward just slightly and kissed him again, a little longer, a little more possessive, and pressed his palms against the small of Tamamori's back, nudging him closer.
Tamamori pulled back first, resting his forehead against Miyata's and taking a deep breath. His eyes were still puffy and red-rimmed, hair still in tousled disarray, but when he sat back and looked up, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile and it was the most beautiful thing that Miyata had ever seen.
"I... 愛してる、裕太," he said softly as he stared, reverent and serious. "I totally just... 愛してる."
And like an angel, Tamamori smiled for real. "分かってる..." he said. And: "ね... 俊哉、俺も."
*
"Aww~" Fujigaya said, reclined with his legs up and hands behind his head in Watchtower's whiteroom. The feed from Tamamori's netgear played out on a virtual flatscreen floating in the air; Fujigaya had left the recorder running on the table upon leaving the common room. "Now there's a script."
"Hm," Yokoo said, lying on his stomach, chin propped up in one hand and legs slowly kicking. Kick, kick. Kick, kick. "Sweet enough I suppose, but they sure like to beat around the bush."
"I think they're just inept," Fujigaya said, and Yokoo gave him a funny look. "What? It's endearing. Kind of. The way they keep missing wavelengths." He made a couple of hand motions like Mass Public Transport carriers travelling in opposite directions on different sets of tracks.
But then the flatscreen cut to black, and two more screens on either side of it materialised to display the two empty doorways leading to the common room.
"...Ii-chan?" Fujigaya said, perhaps the trace of a pout in his voice.
"They're still kissing, if you have to know," Iida reported. "No further updates available."
Yokoo laughed as Fujigaya's face fell into a proper pout at the news. "Prude," he accused.
"Sorry, Taisuke," Iida said unapologetically, "but I've had quite enough images of those two through my network for today."
"Can't you override him, Yokoo-san?" Fujigaya asked; Yokoo opened his mouth to answer, but.
"Takizawa-dono hails," Iida cut in. "Requesting forms for Hashimoto."
"I'm on it," Yokoo said instead, and grinned. "Sorry, Taipi. Priorities and all that."
"I'll page you if Tamamori or Miyata leave their current location," Iida said.
Yokoo nodded. "He'll want to meet them, too, so I'll let him know they're awake while I'm over there."
"Understood," Iida said as Yokoo disappeared from the whiteroom.
A silence ensued, lengthy by Fujigaya's standards. "...they're not going to leave for ages anyway," he said unhappily at last. "Your silence doesn't have to be so smug."
"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," Iida chuckled. But then there was a pause. "...perhaps you should log off, too. It seems that Kawai-kun needs some help with his project, given the number of times he's pinged my FAQ within the last ten minutes... and just then again."
"That moron," Fujigaya grumbled, "it's his own fault for liking all the outdated tech so much. Can you connect me to his terminal instead, Kyonbei? I can't be bothered going. His room smells."
"Done," Iida said.
"Oi, Fumi!" Fujigaya called, staring absently up at the whiteroom 'ceiling'.
Before his eyes, text swam into view as Kawai typed it up on the ancient keyboard in his room. wat
"What's your problem?" Fujigaya said. He knew from experience that his voice would either be appearing as text in one of Kawai's flatscreen windows, or playing from his terminal's speakers depending on the settings of the day. "Ii-chan says you have one."
"Not like that," Iida protested. But Fujigaya just grinned.
ur ass is my problm, Kawai replied. go away im busy
"Yeah, busy raping the FAQ," Fujigaya said. "Here. Let me send you something that should help with your project. Watch it and learn." Aside, he said: "Ii-chan, transfer the recording from Tamamori's gear in 2D? Please?"
"Done," Iida said. And continued after a beat: "...you should watch it with him. Pass on Yokoo-san's poison comments. Make sure Kawai-kun actually appreciates it."
wtf is this
"Just shut up and press play, Fumito," Fujigaya told him. Then aside to Iida: "You really don't want me here, do you Ii-chan?"
"It's not that," Iida said.
"Sure it's not."
"I mean... well. What do you think about torturing the cyber boys later? It's been a long day for both of them after all. And Takizawa-dono won't be pleased if they're in tears when they meet him."
Fujigaya clicked his tongue. "You're worried I'll scar them when they come here looking for Watta?" he asked. "I'm not all a mean sack of bones, Ii-chan. You overestimate my capacity for senseless cruelty."
"Do I though?" Iida chuckled. In the middle of the whiteroom, a large folder labelled MEAN TAIPI appeared and opened, a pair of invisible hands beginning to rifle through it, flicking through sheaves of paper. "Allow me to draw your attention to your bad mood three days ago, during which Nikaido poked you one too many times. Or perhaps the instance Kento logged in to your skate training scenario as a guinea pig. Or maybe-"
"Okaaay, okay, I get it!" Fujigaya mock-huffed, and hauled himself up from the whiteroom floor. "No need to dig too deep into History, I'm going, I'm going."
Iida chuckled, and the folder disappeared.
"You owe me a lot of amusement for this," Fujigaya told him, materialising himself an exit and reaching for its handle.
"And you will be repaid in full," Iida promised, locking the virtual door in Fujigaya's wake.
1- acronym tag/hover thing, y/n? 8D; i'm contemplating going back to find all the japanese in this fic and converting it... and smacking my head against a wall in the process. what do you reckon? :3 it seems easier than scrolling to the bottom to me, but idk.
2- seriously, i disown these chapters. ♥ i'll probably wake up tomorrow and do a whole bunch of nitpicky edits after school.
3- urk, late. T_T speaking of school. *goes to bed*