(SMAP) The Month Kimura Nearly Threw His Phone into Tokyo Bay (Part 3)
The Month Kimura Nearly Threw His Phone into Tokyo Bay
Tsuyoshi/Kimura | PG-13 | Part 3
The last time he had seen Tsuyoshi was after a SMAPxSMAP shoot, the studio was still buzzing with energy and Tsuyoshi’s brow was soaked with sweat. He teased Tsuyoshi, you still sweat after all this time, and Tsuyoshi just laughed, mopping at his brow with a handkerchief Kimura knew had SMAP printed all over it. Tsuyoshi’s cheeks were pink and there was no way he could ignore the light in his eyes as Shingo pounced over, swatting at them both playfully, inviting them over to his for some games with friends before skipping out of there. Kimura remembers not getting where Shingo got all that enthusiasm and Tsuyoshi was probably thinking the same if his happy-gentle smile had anything to say about it. The whole thing was brief, Kimura had a call and Tsuyoshi just waved him off genially, I’ll talk to you later, before wandering over to a Nakai who was quiet and on his own. Kimura couldn’t pull him away, he had a call, and that’s how things went.
Then all of this happened and Kimura chose to believe that if only he hadn’t taken the call-none of this would’ve happened.
Kimura scoffs in the darkness.
The rest of the flashes are bright and quick, but he catches snippets of Tsuyoshi’s weakened grin, that sheepish face he’d make right before a scripted kiss (Nakai was always the domineering one), the curve of his shoulders when he’d run up ahead, that phase when his hair was longer than it should’ve been and it would sometimes stick to his neck because Kimura knew the feeling, the gentle squeeze of his hand in his own after an especially slow song-they were all brief but so vivid, Kimura’s body was rigid and his stomach was twisting for all it was worth; he had to swallow more than once to make sure none of this was real, that he was just thinking.
“Fuck.” Kimura’s throat is dry but he doesn’t care, he rolls over needlessly, punching the pillow, grinding his teeth and just shaking from the bottom up.
He wants sleep but he knows what he wants more (so he masturbates, frustrated and quick, losing it in just over a minute and completely spent-he finally falls asleep).
The next day shooting is slow, but Kimura has a lot of breaks in between and devours two bentos without a second glance. The AD (the same one to coax him out of the washroom) is mildly concerned, is anything wrong? Kimura shrugs it off, lack of sleep, and he’s left alone-he plays with the chain attached to his pants. His phone suddenly vibrates and everything from last night comes back up, but he checks all the same, and it’s Shingo-chan-his mouth relaxes and he picks the thing up.
“Why are you calling so early?”
“I’m bored and we’re changing locations, so I thought I’d check up on you.” Kimura laughs, rolling his eyes and crossing his legs. He can catch the rumble of tires from the other end. “Why’d you pick up?”
“I’m on break; chances of me picking up are higher than usual.”
“What you eating?”
“Bento-“
“Figured. You know Goro was over at Tsuyopon’s yesterday?” Kimura wants to smile, he really does, but the miniature frown gets there first. He pulls the phone closer to his ear.
“He was? That’s... probably good, isn’t it.”
“Mm. He brought eel and everything! Tsuyopon sounded really glad, they didn’t do much he said, but the thought was really nice-just having someone around for a while was enough.” Kimura can hear Shingo’s smile and that makes his chest hurt because he’s not smiling when he knows he should be (Tsuyoshi’s happy, so why the hell isn’t he?).
“That was very nice of Goro. I bet you’d do the same if you could, huh?”
“Yeah. All this on-location stuff is tough and anyway, I mean, I talk to him so much it’s almost like I’m over at his.” The AD pops back in, gesturing towards his watch sheepishly, Kimura nods and starts to get up.
“Ah. Well, looks like my break’s over, Shingo-chan, I have to get going. Be good.”
“When am I not? People think I’m great, yanno. But yeah, I’ll let you go, stay sexy.” Kimura laughs in a way that means he will and Shingo knows that. Kimura is the first to hang up and for the first time in a long while, he brings his phone with him. Just in case.
Some phone calls aren’t all that bad.
Kimura hadn’t had a day off for nearly two weeks and the fatigue was starting to catch up to him (make-up made it their mission to eliminate any and all dark circles from his face, all Kimura wanted was a nap-they worked out a deal). Somehow, Shingo and him had fallen into a strange routine where they’d talk over the phone during their breaks (Nakai wasn’t a phone person and Goro-chan and him didn’t talk all that often when they were shooting something); it consisted of a lot of complaints about the weather on Shingo’s part and loud laughs on Kimura’s end. Kimura never asked, but Shingo still made it his duty to update him on Tsuyoshi and that was the only way he knew Tsuyoshi would be fine (that and the faith he had in the younger man). Shingo was eager about the month nearing its close, rehearsals were already set for the return of SMAPxSMAP and apparently Tsuyoshi was apologetic as ever. Kimura could believe that.
“If I had broken the sword, okay, fine, but it wasn’t even my fault! You don’t think that’s right, right?” Kimura shakes his head, letting a chortle escape his lips as he sidesteps one of the staff, smiling in greeting and making his way to the catering table.
“Just tell them you didn’t do it. You’d get away with murder, never mind a broken prop sword if you smiled that idol smile of yours.” Shingo laughs some, pulling away from the phone so as to talk to someone on the other end. Kimura doesn’t mind, he holds the phone with his shoulder now and starts to pick some pineapple from the fruit tray. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Someone’s calling. “One sec’, Shingo, someone’s on the other line.” Shingo’s still talking to somebody else, so he gets the phone away from his ear and checks the I.D.
Tsuyoshi-kun. Kimura’s cheeks puff up, he squeezes the half-eaten pineapple in his hand and he can’t hang up the call fast enough. In his panic he hangs up on Shingo too but he won’t mind, he was busy anyway-and now Kimura’s stomach is tied up in knots. He sighs at the destroyed pineapple in his left hand and cleans the mess with a napkin; the spaces between his fingers are all sticky.
Stupid Tsuyoshi. If Kimura wasn’t on set he’d probably be kicking a wall or pulling his hair out of pure fear. One of the two. He hates the toll this is taking on him, he’s doing this for Tsuyoshi’s sake, he swears. Tough love, that’s the name of the game and there’s no doubt in Kimura’s mind that Nakai’s doing the same (he knows the man more than well enough). Kimura hasn’t even had the heart to listen to Tsuyoshi’s messages; his voicemail is filled with them.
Kimura stares down at the small stupid thing, seriously contemplating dropping it in the vat of miso soup on the table before he’s broken away from his thoughts by one of his cast mate’s hand on his shoulder and a friendly squeeze.
Part 4
Tsuyoshi/Kimura | PG-13 | Part 3
The last time he had seen Tsuyoshi was after a SMAPxSMAP shoot, the studio was still buzzing with energy and Tsuyoshi’s brow was soaked with sweat. He teased Tsuyoshi, you still sweat after all this time, and Tsuyoshi just laughed, mopping at his brow with a handkerchief Kimura knew had SMAP printed all over it. Tsuyoshi’s cheeks were pink and there was no way he could ignore the light in his eyes as Shingo pounced over, swatting at them both playfully, inviting them over to his for some games with friends before skipping out of there. Kimura remembers not getting where Shingo got all that enthusiasm and Tsuyoshi was probably thinking the same if his happy-gentle smile had anything to say about it. The whole thing was brief, Kimura had a call and Tsuyoshi just waved him off genially, I’ll talk to you later, before wandering over to a Nakai who was quiet and on his own. Kimura couldn’t pull him away, he had a call, and that’s how things went.
Then all of this happened and Kimura chose to believe that if only he hadn’t taken the call-none of this would’ve happened.
Kimura scoffs in the darkness.
The rest of the flashes are bright and quick, but he catches snippets of Tsuyoshi’s weakened grin, that sheepish face he’d make right before a scripted kiss (Nakai was always the domineering one), the curve of his shoulders when he’d run up ahead, that phase when his hair was longer than it should’ve been and it would sometimes stick to his neck because Kimura knew the feeling, the gentle squeeze of his hand in his own after an especially slow song-they were all brief but so vivid, Kimura’s body was rigid and his stomach was twisting for all it was worth; he had to swallow more than once to make sure none of this was real, that he was just thinking.
“Fuck.” Kimura’s throat is dry but he doesn’t care, he rolls over needlessly, punching the pillow, grinding his teeth and just shaking from the bottom up.
He wants sleep but he knows what he wants more (so he masturbates, frustrated and quick, losing it in just over a minute and completely spent-he finally falls asleep).
The next day shooting is slow, but Kimura has a lot of breaks in between and devours two bentos without a second glance. The AD (the same one to coax him out of the washroom) is mildly concerned, is anything wrong? Kimura shrugs it off, lack of sleep, and he’s left alone-he plays with the chain attached to his pants. His phone suddenly vibrates and everything from last night comes back up, but he checks all the same, and it’s Shingo-chan-his mouth relaxes and he picks the thing up.
“Why are you calling so early?”
“I’m bored and we’re changing locations, so I thought I’d check up on you.” Kimura laughs, rolling his eyes and crossing his legs. He can catch the rumble of tires from the other end. “Why’d you pick up?”
“I’m on break; chances of me picking up are higher than usual.”
“What you eating?”
“Bento-“
“Figured. You know Goro was over at Tsuyopon’s yesterday?” Kimura wants to smile, he really does, but the miniature frown gets there first. He pulls the phone closer to his ear.
“He was? That’s... probably good, isn’t it.”
“Mm. He brought eel and everything! Tsuyopon sounded really glad, they didn’t do much he said, but the thought was really nice-just having someone around for a while was enough.” Kimura can hear Shingo’s smile and that makes his chest hurt because he’s not smiling when he knows he should be (Tsuyoshi’s happy, so why the hell isn’t he?).
“That was very nice of Goro. I bet you’d do the same if you could, huh?”
“Yeah. All this on-location stuff is tough and anyway, I mean, I talk to him so much it’s almost like I’m over at his.” The AD pops back in, gesturing towards his watch sheepishly, Kimura nods and starts to get up.
“Ah. Well, looks like my break’s over, Shingo-chan, I have to get going. Be good.”
“When am I not? People think I’m great, yanno. But yeah, I’ll let you go, stay sexy.” Kimura laughs in a way that means he will and Shingo knows that. Kimura is the first to hang up and for the first time in a long while, he brings his phone with him. Just in case.
Some phone calls aren’t all that bad.
Kimura hadn’t had a day off for nearly two weeks and the fatigue was starting to catch up to him (make-up made it their mission to eliminate any and all dark circles from his face, all Kimura wanted was a nap-they worked out a deal). Somehow, Shingo and him had fallen into a strange routine where they’d talk over the phone during their breaks (Nakai wasn’t a phone person and Goro-chan and him didn’t talk all that often when they were shooting something); it consisted of a lot of complaints about the weather on Shingo’s part and loud laughs on Kimura’s end. Kimura never asked, but Shingo still made it his duty to update him on Tsuyoshi and that was the only way he knew Tsuyoshi would be fine (that and the faith he had in the younger man). Shingo was eager about the month nearing its close, rehearsals were already set for the return of SMAPxSMAP and apparently Tsuyoshi was apologetic as ever. Kimura could believe that.
“If I had broken the sword, okay, fine, but it wasn’t even my fault! You don’t think that’s right, right?” Kimura shakes his head, letting a chortle escape his lips as he sidesteps one of the staff, smiling in greeting and making his way to the catering table.
“Just tell them you didn’t do it. You’d get away with murder, never mind a broken prop sword if you smiled that idol smile of yours.” Shingo laughs some, pulling away from the phone so as to talk to someone on the other end. Kimura doesn’t mind, he holds the phone with his shoulder now and starts to pick some pineapple from the fruit tray. Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Someone’s calling. “One sec’, Shingo, someone’s on the other line.” Shingo’s still talking to somebody else, so he gets the phone away from his ear and checks the I.D.
Tsuyoshi-kun. Kimura’s cheeks puff up, he squeezes the half-eaten pineapple in his hand and he can’t hang up the call fast enough. In his panic he hangs up on Shingo too but he won’t mind, he was busy anyway-and now Kimura’s stomach is tied up in knots. He sighs at the destroyed pineapple in his left hand and cleans the mess with a napkin; the spaces between his fingers are all sticky.
Stupid Tsuyoshi. If Kimura wasn’t on set he’d probably be kicking a wall or pulling his hair out of pure fear. One of the two. He hates the toll this is taking on him, he’s doing this for Tsuyoshi’s sake, he swears. Tough love, that’s the name of the game and there’s no doubt in Kimura’s mind that Nakai’s doing the same (he knows the man more than well enough). Kimura hasn’t even had the heart to listen to Tsuyoshi’s messages; his voicemail is filled with them.
Kimura stares down at the small stupid thing, seriously contemplating dropping it in the vat of miso soup on the table before he’s broken away from his thoughts by one of his cast mate’s hand on his shoulder and a friendly squeeze.
Part 4