As Fate Would Have It
Title: As Fate Would Have It
Pairing: tackey x tsubasa
Rating: light R
Summary: semi-canon fic starting from their audition. awkward!tsubasa and young lust love!
As things tend to go in life, there wasn't really a moment or an event that Tsubasa could point to as being the one that "started it all" but if pressed, he might attribute it to that phone call. If you were particularly persistent, he might admit that the cascade of subsequent events was first triggered on April 23, 1995.
**
Tsubasa clutched the straps of his bookbag, pulling at them unconsciously until they grew slick with sweat in his clammy hands. He licked his lips nervously and looked around the room slowly, eying the crowd with the apprehension of a small fish in a big pond. This was ridiculous - he didn't belong here at all. Anxiety wrapped her cold fingers around his chest and he focused on his breathing until it came in even, measured beats again. Heck, he didn't even want to be here. It was all his sister's fault and her dumb TOKIO obsession that got him into this mess in the first place. Just wait until he got out of this crummy audition, he grumbled to himself - he'd make her pay in triple, no, quadruple the amount of pudding she had promised and find a way to guilt-trip her into getting him that new baseball glove he had been eyeing.
But never mind that. Right now, he felt like he was about to puke.
It was then that another boy around his own age, a flurry of motion, caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but smirk to himself - now that was someone who looked happy to be here, in fact, over eagerly ecstatic. The other boy's hair was parted perfectly down the middle and slicked down with what looked like enough hair wax to withstand a minor tsunami without so much as one strand of hair moving out of place. The only things more ridiculous looking on him were the equally precise creases down his pant legs and the bright, cheery grin plastered across his face that made him look as well-scrubbed and wholesome as his starched shirt. Tsubasa groaned to himself. The other boy exemplified the kind of over-the-top cheesiness and charm that the judges probably gobbled up; there was no doubt in his mind that he was a shoo-in.
He stared wide-eyed as the boy attempted another spin, nearly crashing into three other applicants in the process. Instead of frowning, the judges merely laughed and patted the boy indulgently on the back who was, by now, smiling sheepishly.
Okay, and it somewhat helped that he was kind of cute, Tsubasa admitted to himself.
**
Tsubasa snapped his cellphone closed and stared at it. That was just plain weird.
"Hello, hello. Earth to Tsubasa!" Sho waved his hand rapidly back and forth in front of Tsubasa's eyes.
Tsubasa blinked and pushed Sho's hand away good-naturedly. "Yes, Sho-sama?" he said with a smile.
"Something wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost." Sho smiled back at him but Tsubasa could see the concern in his eyes.
"Near about," Tsubasa snorted. "That was Takizawa; he wants me to do a duet with him at the next junior's concert."
Sho promptly came dangerously close to sliding straight off his stool. He picked himself up and dug his spoon back in his bowl of icecream. "Well, that's..." Sho's eyes wavered visibly as he searched for the right word, "interesting. Are you going to do it?"
Tsubasa nodded and reached over to grab Sho's spoon to snag a spoonful of the icecream for himself. "It's interesting all right."
--
Tsubasa played and replayed his conversation with Takizawa over and over again until all the pieces got jumbled in his head and he lost track of what was fact and fiction.
A duet.
A what?!
Well, I know this is rather sudden but I think it'd be a good change of pace if we sang a song together.
I...
It's okay if you don't want to; I didn't mean to put you on the spot.
No, I'll do it.
What in the world had he gotten himself into? Why did he agree to it? He lay on his back and sighed, staring at the crack in the ceiling as if it would give him the answer. He rolled over onto his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to ignore the queasiness in his stomach and go to sleep.
--
Nothing had changed and everything had changed since they first joined the jimusho. Takizawa Hideaki still had the innate ability to command everyone's attention when he walked into a room. For a time, Tsubasa himself had been one of his satellites, content to stay in the background and revolve around the jimusho's brightest new star. They were even friends, of sort - the kind that grew attached to each other by circumstance and common surroundings. But the more they worked together, the more it became obvious that if Takizawa was the sun, then Tsubasa was the moon. Initially, neither was particularly talented with a microphone or a drama script in his hand but after being pushed continuously and given numerous opportunities by Johnny-san who recognized frog princes when he saw one, Takizawa grew by leaps and bounds whereas Tsubasa continued to stumble clumsily over lines that fell wooden from his lips; whereas Tsubasa took immediately to new dance routines like a fish to water, Takizawa got chased around the room by Sanche-san's stick and his mug of coffee. Both being highly competitive by nature, they began to regard the other with a bit of childish resentment - after all, their shortcomings felt all the more painful when confronted constantly with the ease with which the other performed at their weakness. Thus, even though they had started out as friends, it had been a couple of years since the two had willingly cooperated on anything.
--
And what in the world would their collaboration look like anyway? What would they sing? What about the choreography? What were Takizawa's intentions in even suggesting the idea? As it turned out, whereas Tsubasa had absolutely no clue, Takizawa seemed to have all the answers. If Tsubasa had realized from observing from a distance that Takizawa had grown up to become a consummate, perfect idol from that overly perky boy he first encountered several years ago, the image was only magnified when they actually worked together towards a common goal. Well, worked together was a tad generous way of putting it.
"We'll sing SMAP-san's Run, Run, Run - okay with you? I already cleared it with Nakai-kun and Kimura-kun."
Takizawa was looking at him from across the table and tapping the point of his pencil lightly against his pad of paper. Tsubasa glanced down at the page reflexively and blanched. It was impressively full of scribbles and numbers galore in various colored ink and pencil. "Of course," he said hastily. Really, there wasn't a proper way that they could decline to sing their sempai's song after Takizawa had already gone to the trouble of requesting it specifically. He hadn't known what to expect but he didn't anticipate that Takizawa would've already put so much thought into it only two days after he had agreed to do a duet with him. It made him feel ill-prepared in comparison. He hesitated. "About the choreography?" he ventured.
Takizawa picked up his notepad and frowned at some of his scribbles. "Nothing too complicated would be best since there are dance numbers immediately before and after on the schedule with a costume change to boot. Let's just run around the arena for the main part of the song. We'll start from the main stage and then swoop outwards in two circles. Fits with the lyrics that way too, don't you think?" He flipped the page and quickly sketched out a diagram, holding it up for Tsubasa's approval.
Tsubasa found himself nodding agreeably. When Takizawa put it that way, it did sound so much better than anything that he might have had in mind. He had wanted to be helpful and offer ideas, but without meaning to, Tsubasa had found himself swept up by Takizawa's suggestions.
--
After he got over the initial resentment he had felt at being caught up as a pawn in Takizawa's "produce a concert" game, Tsubasa slowly came to understand that Takizawa really did have the best intentions of the juniors in mind and that if he came across as a bit overbearing in his approach, it was because he was struggling to figure out how to balance the weight of his responsibility. Now that he was watching, he could see it in the way Takizawa made neat annotations and changes in his trusty notepad after a meeting with the staff, lips drawn thin and close to his teeth with grim determination and he could see it in how Takizawa sat rigidly behind a table as he assigned songs and roles to the other juniors for the upcoming concert and also in every time he flinched at the subsequent barely concealed grumbles from discontent juniors. At these moments, Tsubasa's heart ached and went out to him - it couldn't have been easy, but Takizawa never complained.
Well! Takizawa-Hideaki-the-idol wasn't so perfect after all, and that made him an awfully lot more interesting, Tsubasa mused.
**
"Hey, you still like baseball, don't you?"
Tsubasa eyed Hideaki warily. If he didn't know better, he would think that Takizawa was purposely trying to throw him off-kilter with a question that just came out of the blue from nowhere. "Sure," he said cautiously.
"I got that new N64 game, that that..."
Tsubasa leaned forward excitedly. "Ken Griffey, Jr.'s Slugfest?" He held his breath - it couldn't possibly be that game. It was the most anticipated sports game of the year for N64 and practically impossible to find; he had tried calling half a dozen game stores yesterday to see if they could locate a copy.
"Yep, that's the one." Takizawa grinned. "Want to come over to my place sometime to play?"
"Yes," Tsubasa said immediately without hesitation.
"How about tomorrow after rehearsal?"
Tsubasa ran his schedule through his mind. "It'll be too late," he said regretfully. "We won't get out until at least 10pm and then we have a 6am rehearsal the next day."
Takizawa shrugged. "Then just sleep over."
--
It all made perfect sense at the time which is why the next night, Tsubasa found himself clutching a pillow while watching as a whistling Takizawa laid out a futon next to the bed. Takizawa patted the quilt down one last time. "Welcome to Hotel Takizawa, where our guests' comfort is our number one priority."
Tsubasa rolled his eyes. "Sorry to trouble you," he added.
"Not a bother at all," Takizawa said through a grin and a yawn. "Shall we turn in for the night then?"
Tsubasa nodded and they switched spots. Takizawa hopped into his bed and stretched his hand out to switch off the lamp while Tsubasa squirmed around on the unfamiliar bedding, trying to find a comfortable way to settle down.
"Hey."
Takizawa's voice was soft but it might as well have been as loud as gunshot; Tsubasa took a sharp breath through his nose. "What is it?"
"It's nice isn't it?" Takizawa poked his head over the edge of the bed and smiled down at Tsubasa who blinked back at him. "Being friends now," he clarified.
"Yea, it's nice." To his surprise, Tsubasa found that it was the truth. This was the first time that Takizawa had explicitly referenced the fact that just a short few months ago, they were anything but friends. It was kind of weird that they were friends, but he supposed that's what they were - friends slept over at each other's apartments and enjoyed spending time together and that was definitely true of him and Takizawa now. He stretched out and felt his shoulders relaxing; albeit brief, Takizawa's words did much to calm his vague uneasiness and now he just felt overwhelmingly tired. "Night, Takizawa," he mumbled, feeling himself drifting off to sleep.
"Night, Tsubasa," Takizawa whispered back and withdrew in a rustling of quilts.
A few seconds later, Takizawa popped his head over the side of the bed again. "Do you mind that I call you Tsubasa?"
Tsubasa opened his eyes reluctantly and raised an eyebrow wearily. "Isn't that what you've been calling me anyway?"
Takizawa laughed and Tsubasa felt all funny in his stomach again. "I thought I'd check anyway."
"You woke me up to ask me that?" Tsubasa whined.
"You weren't asleep anyway." Takizawa's grin was infectious and Tsubasa smiled back.
"Good night," Tsubasa said, pointedly turning his back. They did have to wake up early tomorrow after all. "I'll see you in the morning, Hide-kun."
The last thing Tsubasa heard before falling asleep was Hideaki's cheery voice saying "Night!" back.
--
It was easy to continue going over to Hideaki's apartment after that initial night. They had started to spend more time together, each moment cementing their fledgling friendship deeper. They already shared much of the same work schedule and they liked most of the same foods so they usually grabbed a bite to eat together after work. Then, since Tsubasa lived further away from the jimusho buildings, it was a no-brainer that he slept over at Hideaki's to save on the commute time in the morning.
As much as they had in common though, Tsubasa couldn't understand for the life of him, Hideaki's obsession with pro-wrestling. Wrestling was okay - he had liked it well enough when he was a kid himself. It's just that they were adults now and pro-wrestling with its tacky masks and hideously unattractive spandex was well, childish.
"I have a hero complex," Hideaki explained again for the umpteenth time. "There's always a hero and a villain in any fight. Actually, the storylines can get quite complex." He leaned forward eagerly, obviously excited at the opportunity to deliver yet another monologue on the merits of his favorite pro-wrestler of the week and catch Tsubasa up on all the latest developments in said storylines.
From experience, Tsubasa recognized all the warning signs. "Really. Great." He turned his attention back to his sketchbook hastily and examined his last drawing. It would be fun to design his own costumes for his own concerts one day. Now that was a worthwhile ambition and hobby. It was utterly unfathomable to him what could be so interesting about a bunch of sweaty guys doing their best to smash each other's faces into pulp. (Plus, if you were talking about heroes, he quite preferred the shining prince on a white horse character type.)
He glanced up at Hideaki and tried not to laugh too loudly when he was met with a disgruntled frown.
--
Just for giggles, Tsubasa decided to challenge Hideaki to a fight. Of course, it wouldn't be as fun if he challenged him directly (what with Hideaki going on and on all the time about wrestling storylines) so he decided to take his chances one day and be the villain. He pounced on Hideaki while he was sitting on the couch, dragging him down and pinning him onto the ground.
Hideaki yelped and Tsubasa grinned. His victory was brief; a mere few seconds later, Hideaki had flipped him neatly onto his back and was pressing him into the wooden floor with the weight of his body. Tsubasa wriggled around in protest, attempting to kick him off, and then froze abruptly in place.
Oh.
Hideaki's mouth was slightly parted and he was panting slightly, a sheen of sweat breaking on his forehead. Tsubasa's eyes widened in panic.
Ohhh.
He loosened a hand and jabbed Hideaki in the ribs. "Get off before you crush my lungs."
Hideaki rolled off obediently and not a second too early. Tsubasa sat up and busied himself with re-adjusting his clothes. Maybe... maybe wrestling wasn't so bad after all.
**
They ran down the narrow walkway, Tsubasa throwing his head back while singing into the microphone until the glow of the overhead spotlights behind his eyelids made him dizzy. He loved everything about concerts and how they made him feel alive - the pleasure of seeing their hard work culminating in one night, the surge of adrenaline passed along from the cheers of the crowd and the pulsating beat of the music that drowned out his thoughts so that all he had to do was let his body move by itself - there simply wasn't anything else like it. He looked over next to him - Hideaki flashed him a smile - and just as quickly, looked away.
--
"We're good together." Hideaki hooked an arm over Tsubasa's shoulder and pulled him in close. Tsubasa shivered and sneezed. Hideaki was still wet from his after-concert shower and warm to the touch. "Cheers to our first duet together!" The other juniors around them clapped and whistled their approval.
Giddy and exhausted, Tsubasa leaned into the half-hug, ignoring the steady drip of water from Hideaki's hair on his arm.
**
Tsubasa took to spending even more time at Hideaki's apartment until it was like his home away from home - Hideaki even gave him his own set of keys to the apartment. He enjoyed spending time with his best friend, he told himself and his parents.
Not that it wasn't the truth. Hideaki was great company and they would like as not talk the night away over mugs of lukewarm tea and cigarettes, sharing their ambitions, worries and fears without reservation as they were to spend it parked in front of the television in a videogame marathon.
In addition, he discovered that one of Hideaki's best points was his stomach of steel. This was decidedly useful as it allowed Tsubasa free reign to test out recipes as much as he pleased in the kitchen.
"Pepperoncini pasta," he said proudly as he set the steaming plate in front of Hideaki. He stood back and watched anxiously for Hideaki's reaction to his latest creation.
Hideaki twirled up a heaping forkful eagerly and managed to shove the whole mess in his mouth. He chewed diligently for a full two seconds before making a grab for his glass of water. Tsubasa's eyes grew wide with alarm - surely it wasn't that bad?
"A big spicy, isn't it?" Hideaki said after a while. He smiled.
Tsubasa beamed back at him. "You didn't have any peppers so I put some hot sauce in it. To bring it up a notch."
"Ah." Hideaki picked up a tissue and blew his nose. "It's tasty."
"Let me try," Tsubasa ordered, sitting down at the table as well, and Hideaki handed over the fork. Tsubasa picked up a strand and dropped it in his mouth. Almost immediately, he spat it back out in his hand and made frantic flailing motions for water. Hideaki hastened to oblige and Tsubasa gulped it down in one go. "Liar," he gasped out in between gulps of his second glass of water.
Hideaki grinned and didn't bother moving away when Tsubasa moved to kick him underneath the table.
--
The not so good point about Takizawa Hideaki was his total lack of fashion sense - it was atrocious to the point of being literally painful to bear, but as it never took much bullying on Tsubasa's part to drag him shopping, it ended up being quite pleasant to have his very own compliant life-sized model to dress-up.
Except that very model had pulled a mysterious disappearing act at the moment. Tsubasa frowned, turning around slowly to see if he could spot the head of spiked brown hair in the sea of customers. Impossible. On a busy Sunday afternoon with half the clientele sporting similar hairstyles, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. A particularly short needle in a haystack, he grumbled ungenerously to himself. Never mind, he knew exactly where he could find him. Tsubasa grabbed another basic tee and headed directly to the accessories section at the back of the store.
Sure enough, Hideaki was hovering suspiciously next to a display of gaudy, sequined belts. Tsubasa groaned and rolled his eyes. Figures.
He tapped Hideaki on the shoulder. "Find something you like, Takizawa-san?" he said dryly.
Hideaki whirled around and grinned. "Yep," he said enthusiastically. "Two actually - which do you think is better?" He laid two equally dazzling belts out on a nearby table for his benefit. Tsubasa flinched reflexively. To be honest, he couldn't tell the difference between the belts unless it was that the one on the left seemed to hurt his eyes a tad more.
"Or maybe I should just get both," Hideaki mumbled. (Either lost in thought or hypnotized by the glitter, Tsubasa wasn't sure).
Tsubasa shielded his eyes with his right hand and patted Hideaki reassuringly on the shoulder with his left. "Definitely both. You only have what? Five hanging in your closet now?"
"Six," Hideaki corrected with pride, missing Tsubasa's sarcasm entirely. Satisfied and momentary existential crisis averted, he grabbed both belts and headed off to the register whistling. Tsubasa shook his head in amusement and followed. Hideaki was a complete lost cause and besides, how could he crush his delusions when his eyes were sparkling almost as much as the belts themselves?
Oh well. The glitter would be helpful in locating the short needle in a crowd.
**
Tsubasa eyed himself critically in the mirror and frowned at a wayward strand of hair. That was easily fixed with another quick spritz of hairspray. He set the spray down and his hand hovered hesitantly over the bottle of cologne. It was new - an impulse purchase the other day. Shrugging his hesitation away, he picked the bottle up and applied some to his wrist and neck.
--
Sho narrowed his eyes and sniffed. "You smell different."
Tsubasa shrugged nonchalantly. "A person can't buy a new cologne?" Sho was sometimes too clever for his own good.
"Hmm." Sho's look was cool and appraising. "I see."
Tsubasa was beginning to think that Sho had a nasty habit of reading too deeply into minor details.
--
Hideaki came another step closer.
Tsubasa took another step backwards and banged smack up against the kitchen counter. He eyed Hideaki uneasily. "What is it?" he demanded.
"Nothing." Hideaki stepped closer again until his nose was a mere few centimeters away from Tsubasa's neck. "You just smell good." His warm breath caused Tsubasa to shiver and his stomach to do funny flipflops.
Tsubasa pushed Hideaki away. "You're a weirdo," he mumbled.
**
Tsubasa punched Hideaki lightly in the arm. "I don't see what the hype is all about and I don't know why you needed to brag so much," he groused, his grin belying his words.
Hideaki smiled broadly. Tsubasa's heart leaped up to lodge itself firmly in his throat.
"Well, it's my specialty," Hideaki said cheerfully. "Ta da!" With another dramatic flourish, he added the pièce de résistance - two strawberry pocky sticks.
"Better cook than me, my ass. Who can't put an icecream sundae together?" Tsubasa muttered in between spoonfuls of icecream, pulling the bowl away possessively and glaring menacingly at Hideaki when he tried to dip his own spoon in.
**
"Your thoughts on marriage?"
Tsubasa watched steadily as another bead of water slid down the side of his glass. Their interviewer was pretty - long hair dyed a stylish brown and curled into impeccable waves; she had a star-struck look in her eyes and she was fiddling nervously with her pen, clicking it incessantly in between questions. Tsubasa wished she would stop.
Hideaki took a sip of his iced tea and recrossed his legs. "It's good, isn't it, to settle down young?"
She beamed at him. "I've always wanted to get married young," Hideaki continued.
"You would be a wonderful father," she gushed, batting her eyelashes none too subtly. Hideaki smiled back at her.
**
Night after night, it was like watching his own private strip show.
Rather, it could more accurately be described as furtive glances stolen when Hideaki was pulling his t-shirt over his head or had his back turned. The little that he saw was already enough to make his heart pound in his ears; his imagination was more than happy to help him piece everything together into a slideshow.
Hideaki was absentmindedly scratching his head as he walked around the bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Tsubasa swallowed hard, his brain melting rapidly from the double threat of the adorable way Hideaki's hair was sticking out every which way and the tantalizing curve of his shoulder blades.
"Help me look?" Hideaki's voice broke into his thoughts.
Tsubasa snapped his head upwards guiltily. "For what?"
"I can't find my blue checkered boxers. Have you seen them?"
"Nope."
"Then help me," Hideaki whined. Tsubasa snorted.
Hideaki was smiling sweetly at him. He knew that smile - it was the one calculated to charm others into giving him exactly what he wanted. He had seen Hideaki practicing it in the mirror. Well, no way in hell was it going to work on him this time.
He scooted down from his sitting position to lay fully on the futon and rolled onto his side, purposefully away from Hideaki, making a show of yawning loudly. "Stop being such a baby and just wear something else," he grumbled.
"Some friend you are," Hideaki sniffed.
**
"So when were you going to get around to telling me the news?"
"What news?" Tsubasa was genuinely confused.
"About Takizawa."
"Eh? There's something to tell?"
Sho stopped abruptly before turning the corner, forcing Tsubasa to stop as well. Sho turned around slowly and eyed Tsubasa. "Is that so?" he tsked and shook his head. "You're making sheep eyes at him every chance you get, spending all your free time with him and there's nothing to tell? Seriously now. How long have you two been dating?"
Tsubasa blushed furiously. "I am not and it's not like that," he protested.
"Then how is it like?" Sho, who had previously been grinning, looked perplexed. He reached out and touched Tsubasa on the shoulder.
And for the life of him, Tsubasa didn't know the answer.
--
How was it like? It was six months later and Tsubasa still didn't have a good answer to Sho's question. He leaned forward and let the water wash over his face, trying to relax himself in the rhythm of his morning shower routine.
He wasn't stupid - he didn't believe in fairy tales or handsome princes on snow-white horses (anymore) and even if they did exist, he wasn't exactly a distraught maiden or damsel in distress who required rescuing. He knew happily ever afters weren't a given and he'd seen enough of the world to realize long ago that real life problems rarely worked themselves out with pat solutions in 60 minute time blocks.
He knew all of this but the problem was he had fallen, fallen hard, for near perfection. Hideaki's smile was bright, albeit a little crooked. His stories were too long and repetitive, his jokes were old - but they still made him laugh anyway. Hideaki didn't quite float over the dance floor, but Tsubasa couldn't help but giggle every time his feet crossed and he ended up tripping over himself, literally. Takizawa Hideaki was just the right mix of perfection and imperfection - and it was this that Tsubasa was finding irresistibly addictive.
Of course, it also helped that Hideaki had grown up from that sorta cute boy he saw so many years ago into (what he was quickly realizing) his walking wet dream.
So was it just lust?
His cock twitched. Tsubasa smiled wryly. Okay, there was most definitely a generous dose of lust involved.
Or could it be?
Love?
He leaned his head back against the cool tiles. This is where it got complicated. This is what scared him. They were very good friends, to be sure, and lately, Hideaki had the habit of pulling him into hugs, coaxing him into being his guinea pig in whatever latest wrestling move he saw on tv or just dropping a kiss on his cheek. But heck, Hideaki had the habit of doing all of the above to his entire circle of friends: Yamashita considered it a good day if he managed to escape with only 5 bear hugs. It was Hideaki's nature and personality to be enthusiastically demonstrative and smother his friends with affection and gifts - Tsubasa was just his latest victim beneficiary.
The friendly overtures made him feel like he was floating in the air.
They also had the discomfiting effect of keeping him perpetually horny.
He shivered, his body tingling from the memory of the hug they had shared last night. The innocent gesture had sent an immediate wave of lust through his body. He had stepped away hastily, afraid that his body would betray him and Hideaki had given him a curious look. On top of that, it had taken supreme willpower to unglue his eyes from Hideaki's ass as he walked away. Curse whoever had invented the combination of low-rise jeans and simple white t-shirts because damn it all to hell if Hideaki didn't wear them like they were invented just for him.
Tsubasa's right hand trailed its way down his body. At any rate, his own feelings were only one shaky half of the equation. What did Hideaki think of him? It was all moot - lust, love, whatever - if Takizawa Hideaki thought of him as no more than his very good friend.
Tsubasa sighed. Well, whatever it was, he had it bad.
Despite the nagging voice in his head that told him it was wrong for him to think of Hideaki like this, his cock had absolutely no qualms about the situation at all. Tsubasa groaned in frustration and worked his hand slowly back and forth over his erection, guiltily indulging in visions that it was Hideaki's hands and mouth on him, teasing and coaxing him to higher heights of pleasure.
His release, when it came, was thankfully quick but left him feeling empty and unsatisfied.
**
Another junior concert, another duet with Takizawa. Again, it was Takizawa picking the song, but this time, Tsubasa had input on how they would actually execute the performance. He chose to play the piano. It meant hours of dogged practice on the piano on top of of a schedule already packed with dance rehearsal and costume fittings but it was worth it - Tsubasa wasn't quite sure he had the ability to stand next to Hideaki for the full duration of the song.
**
"Hello?" Tsubasa walked around the dark apartment, turning on lights. It didn't seem like Hideaki was home yet. He made his way to the bedroom, yawning nonstop. Yep, no sign of Hideaki. He stared bleary eyed first at the dresser where he knew Hideaki had placed the neatly folded up the guest futon that morning and then at the bed. The bed was a mess. Tsubasa grinned, recalling how Hideaki had yelped indignantly at the particular method he had chosen to wake him up with - tickling - which had turned into the both of them having a pillow fight.
He looked longingly at the dresser again and then back at the bed. Well, this choice was easy.
--
When Tsubasa woke up, he found himself nearly eye to eye with Hideaki. Startled, he propelled himself backwards. In his haste to get away, he overestimated the amount of bed and rolled clear off the edge. Luckily, his legs got caught up in the blankets so his landing was relatively delayed and softened.
To add insult to injury, Hideaki was now leaning over the edge of the bed and laughing. Tsubasa glared up at him. Stupid Takizawa Hideaki.
"Sorry," Hideaki said, choking back one last giggle so that it came out more like a snort.
"Your pain. I feel it," Tsubasa said grumpily, blowing his hair out of his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Hideaki's eyes were round with concern now.
Tsubasa pushed away at the blankets and struggled to stand up. "Yea, just as soon as I kick your ass," he growled.
Hideaki squeaked in protest and very cleverly, made a running start to lock himself in the bathroom.
--
After that morning, neither of them really brought up the issue of Tsubasa sleeping in the futon anymore. The most that was said about it was the following night when Hideaki had scooted over in bed and patted the space next to him invitingly. Tsubasa feigned annoyance, complaining about Hideaki's stinky morning breath to which he received a pillow in the face, but he was secretly delighted.
--
If there was a heaven on earth, this was it, Tsubasa thought to himself dreamily. His conscious nibbled at the edges of his happiness but he shoved it away impatiently. It wasn't like he was asking for more than what was being offered, he informed himself - not that he would have even dared hope for more than what was already reality - Hideaki's bed was nice and cozy, cozier still it was to be wrapped in Hideaki's arms.
**
Tsubasa took a sharp breath through his nose. Forget heaven, this was a hell entirely of his own making. He exhaled shakily and held onto the fistful of blankets in his right hand as if it was his last tie to sanity. His mind raced through all his different options and slowly, he forced his body to relax.
Bad choice.
Behind him, Hideaki sighed in his sleep, wriggled around and resettled himself. Tsubasa froze. Well, shit. He gritted his teeth to fight back a moan, resisting every fiber in his being that was screaming happily at him to lean backwards and seek out a stronger connection to the enticing warmth of Hideaki's body.
The devil must've been paying close attention because he granted his wish. Hideaki shifted again, moving closer to him and tightening his hold around his waist. This time, Tsubasa couldn't help but let loose a tiny whimper, his every nerve strumming with pleasure and his cock impossibly harder than before.
One of these days, Takizawa Hideaki was going to inadvertently kill him just like this and Tsubasa was going to die a happy death.
--
Tsubasa walked up and down the supermarket aisles aimlessly. It had been a week since that morning and he could still feel his heart rate speed up and his ears burning every time he thought back to how delightfully naughty it had been to feel Hideaki's arousal pressed against him through their layers of clothing.
After soaking up the experience for as long as his cock (and conscience) could take it, he had extricated himself carefully from Hideaki's arms, permitted himself one guilty peek underneath the blanket and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom for a long, cold shower.
Then, he had fled.
There was no getting around it; he had ran away and didn't stop running until he was safely hidden in his own apartment, in his own bed. To be honest, he was still running - avoiding any unnecessary contact, making excuses and surrounding himself with other friends. It wasn't easy, but he managed.
At night, it was a different story. When he finally managed to doze off, images of Hideaki invaded his dreams and he would wake up with the sheets twisted around his legs, sweating and panting. On top of that, his heart complained bitterly about the abrupt loss of the daily dose of comfort that it had been accustomed to getting. He couldn't stop thinking about Hideaki - the jokes and meals they had shared, the warmth of his smile, and the long nights they had spent talking over their dreams for the future. Well, there was no reason to deny himself the pleasure of the friendship, Tsubasa reminded himself. The week apart had forced Tsubasa to evaluate his priorities and see the situation more clearly. It was Hideaki's companionship he missed the most and friends was better than this emptiness of nothing. Their friendship couldn't be risked for the slim possibility of some short-lived, lust-fueled flirtation.
He just needed to get over this ridiculous crush.
Fingers trembling slightly, Tsubasa flipped open his phone and dialed Hideaki's number. Hideaki picked up after one ring.
"Hey, Tsubasa?"
Tsubasa took a deep breath. "Hey. Where are you now?" The question was a bit disingenuous - he had overheard him talking to Yamapi and knew that he had planned to go straight home after dance practice.
"I just got home - did you want to come over?"
"Well, I'm in the supermarket. I was thinking we could have pepperoncini pasta tonight but I wanted to check that you had olive oil."
The sound of Hideaki's laughter was like a drop of water on parched lips. Tsubasa's heart skipped a beat and true to his new agreement with himself, he ruthlessly squashed it down.
"Hrmm... lemme see... yep. You might want to pick up some peppers though."
Hideaki's tone was light and teasing; Tsubasa felt the corners of his mouth curving into a pout. "That was ages ago," he whined. "You're never going to let me live that down, huh?"
"Never," Hideaki said triumphantly.
**
After that, Tsubasa was more careful with his heart. He rationed his time with Hideaki strictly, never allowing himself to sleep over Hideaki's apartment for more than two nights in a row and he was always the first to pull away from a hug or a kiss on the cheek. He also made a concerted effort to push Hideaki out of his fantasies, going back to picturing nameless faces instead and after making the mistake once of staring too long, he would steadfastly look away in the mornings when Hideaki was sure to be sprawled all over the bed, boxers unsettled low enough in his sleep to reveal the light dusting of hair underneath the navel and the smooth dip inwards from the hips.
At first, it was agonizingly sweet, sweet torture, but as time passed, Tsubasa was content. If friends was the most that he could get, he was going to take it in a heartbeat and forget about the possibility for anything more.
**
"What do you think of Takizawa?" The camera zoomed in on his face. Tsubasa glanced reflexively to the side where Takizawa was on stand-by, waiting for his own turn to be in front of the camera.
Takizawa Hideaki was the best friend he could ever ask for, of course. But how could he express something that meaningful in words?
Tsubasa glanced over at Hideaki again who was grinning at him encouragingly. "He's a person... a person with a very warm heart," he finished with a bright smile. A second later, he yelped - Hideaki had magically appeared by his side and had swatted him on the head. Tsubasa's smile grew wider.
**
Tsubasa draped a towel carefully across the top of Hideaki's forehead.
"What would I do without you?" Hideaki mumbled, opening his eyes slowly.
"Sneeze to death, most likely," Tsubasa retorted. He fussed with the blanket, tucking it in more securely underneath Hideaki's chin. He checked the clock again. Nope, not time yet for another round of cough syrup.
"Then I'm glad you're here," Hideaki said with a smile.
Tsubasa stuck out his tongue. "Yea, well, you better not get me sick," he grumbled. "And don't you dare move from that bed again. I'm going to heat up the soup." He glared menacingly at Hideaki, who shrank down meekly in bed and had the grace to blush.
**
The third time his phone rang and refused to stop, Tsubasa crawled out of bed to fetch it. He could've sworn that he wasn't scheduled for work until the afternoon and judging by the amount of light coming in from the window, it was still ridiculously early in the morning. Who the hell could it be? He yawned and put the phone to his ear.
"Congratulations!"
Tsubasa's sleep-addled brain woke up enough to process that it was Sho. "What? Huh?"
"Turn on the tv - you and Takizawa are all over the morning news!"
Tsubasa picked up the remote and turned on his television, flipping rapidly through the channels until he found a picture of himself. "What is this?" he demanded, heart thumping painfully. His eyes and ears were taking in the sounds and images, but nothing was making sense.
Sho's voice continued babbling over the phone but Tsubasa couldn't concentrate hard enough to figure out what he was saying. The giant, obscenely oversized text on the screen screaming "SOLO DEBUT" was making him sick so he turned the tv off. "Sho, I gotta go. I'll call you back later."
Tsubasa hung up without waiting for an answer and immediately made another phone call, praying that Tsuyoshi would pick up. Even if Tsuyo didn't know the answer, he would know how to help. To his relief, Tsuyoshi picked up after the third ring.
"I saw the news. How you holding up, kid?"
Tsubasa sank to the ground, knees suddenly weak and wobbly with the relief that he wouldn't need to put the situation into words. "What am I going to do, Tsuyo?"
"What kind of question is that? What do you want to do?" Tsuyo threw right back.
Tsubasa bit his lip. Tsuyo was right. It was a pretty strange question to even think to ask. He and Hideaki had talked about a unit debut before, but it had always seemed like a pipe dream in the clouds. "Debut with Takizawa," he said slowly.
A long pause and Tsubasa could feel the anxiety rising in his chest. The decision was already made - how could it be unraveled?
"You're a simple fool but that's what I like about you." Tsuyo chuckled softly. "I reckon you're selling yourself short and want a lot more than just that, right?" Another pause. "It might be hard, you know. Sure, you'll be together but..."
Tsuyo's voice trailed off and there was another uncomfortable silence. The hairs on the back of Tsubasa's neck prickled and heat rushed to his face. Koichi-kun. Of course. He had instinctively known that Tsuyo-nii would understand but still, he had never quite placed his finger exactly why. Tsubasa sniffled and he forced a smile on his face, the easier to make it carry through in his voice. "I'm... I'm sorry."
Tsuyo cleared his throat. "Don't be - I'm not. But what about you? What do you want?"
At that moment, the thought of him and Hideaki debuting solo and then continuing to go on their separate ways was more than Tsubasa could bear. Who the hell was he kidding? It wasn't some passing crush on a handsome face that he could push away through sheer willpower. Whether he liked it or not, his heart had settled firmly on Takizawa Hideaki. "I want it," he said without hesitation. "I want to debut with Takizawa."`
"Then find a way to get it," Tsuyo said firmly, the quiet strength in his words giving Tsubasa hope that maybe, just maybe it could happen. "Just remember to not hurt yourself too badly," he added kindly.
"Takizawa won't hurt me," Tsubasa protested immediately, his conviction in the truth of his words surprising even himself.
Tsuyo sighed. "How could he when you're doing more than enough of that to yourself?"
--
After hanging up with Tsuyoshi, Tsubasa turned off his cellphone. He wanted some time to process the new events for himself. He mulled over the situation and his options - it didn't seem like there were many. Once Johnny-san had made a business decision, he was notorious for sticking to it. Granted, Takizawa and himself were two of Johnny-san's favorites, but what can be done when the media was already reporting a rumor that they will debut solo?
Reluctantly, he turned on his phone again and called Hideaki.
Hideaki answered on the first ring. "Hey, I've been trying to reach you."
"Sorry, I just needed some time to think."
Hideaki hummed his agreement. "So... what do you think?"
"It wasn't what I was expecting." Tsubasa paused and took a deep breath. "Or what I want."
"Then what do you want?"
Again with that question. "To be with you." Tsubasa's face flushed as he realized he had accidentally given voice to his thoughts. "To debut together with you," he corrected quickly.
"Then let's do it."
"What?" Tsubasa's head was spinning so fast it took him a second to realize that the room itself wasn't moving around.
"Let's debut together," Hideaki said excitedly. "We can do it."
**
"Congratulations on your marriage... ah no, on your debut." Shingo-kun beamed merrily at them from the monitor. Tetsuko-san tittered along with the audience and Koichi-kun guffawed loudly.
Tsubasa glanced over at Hideaki and giggled - they both had matching mortified expressions on their faces.
Note: So yep, I ended up shamelessly using a lot of my favorite tropes again. :D;;; maaaa...
Happy 28th Birthday, Tsubaskank \:0//////
Pairing: tackey x tsubasa
Rating: light R
Summary: semi-canon fic starting from their audition. awkward!tsubasa and young lust love!
As things tend to go in life, there wasn't really a moment or an event that Tsubasa could point to as being the one that "started it all" but if pressed, he might attribute it to that phone call. If you were particularly persistent, he might admit that the cascade of subsequent events was first triggered on April 23, 1995.
**
Tsubasa clutched the straps of his bookbag, pulling at them unconsciously until they grew slick with sweat in his clammy hands. He licked his lips nervously and looked around the room slowly, eying the crowd with the apprehension of a small fish in a big pond. This was ridiculous - he didn't belong here at all. Anxiety wrapped her cold fingers around his chest and he focused on his breathing until it came in even, measured beats again. Heck, he didn't even want to be here. It was all his sister's fault and her dumb TOKIO obsession that got him into this mess in the first place. Just wait until he got out of this crummy audition, he grumbled to himself - he'd make her pay in triple, no, quadruple the amount of pudding she had promised and find a way to guilt-trip her into getting him that new baseball glove he had been eyeing.
But never mind that. Right now, he felt like he was about to puke.
It was then that another boy around his own age, a flurry of motion, caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. He couldn't help but smirk to himself - now that was someone who looked happy to be here, in fact, over eagerly ecstatic. The other boy's hair was parted perfectly down the middle and slicked down with what looked like enough hair wax to withstand a minor tsunami without so much as one strand of hair moving out of place. The only things more ridiculous looking on him were the equally precise creases down his pant legs and the bright, cheery grin plastered across his face that made him look as well-scrubbed and wholesome as his starched shirt. Tsubasa groaned to himself. The other boy exemplified the kind of over-the-top cheesiness and charm that the judges probably gobbled up; there was no doubt in his mind that he was a shoo-in.
He stared wide-eyed as the boy attempted another spin, nearly crashing into three other applicants in the process. Instead of frowning, the judges merely laughed and patted the boy indulgently on the back who was, by now, smiling sheepishly.
Okay, and it somewhat helped that he was kind of cute, Tsubasa admitted to himself.
**
Tsubasa snapped his cellphone closed and stared at it. That was just plain weird.
"Hello, hello. Earth to Tsubasa!" Sho waved his hand rapidly back and forth in front of Tsubasa's eyes.
Tsubasa blinked and pushed Sho's hand away good-naturedly. "Yes, Sho-sama?" he said with a smile.
"Something wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost." Sho smiled back at him but Tsubasa could see the concern in his eyes.
"Near about," Tsubasa snorted. "That was Takizawa; he wants me to do a duet with him at the next junior's concert."
Sho promptly came dangerously close to sliding straight off his stool. He picked himself up and dug his spoon back in his bowl of icecream. "Well, that's..." Sho's eyes wavered visibly as he searched for the right word, "interesting. Are you going to do it?"
Tsubasa nodded and reached over to grab Sho's spoon to snag a spoonful of the icecream for himself. "It's interesting all right."
--
Tsubasa played and replayed his conversation with Takizawa over and over again until all the pieces got jumbled in his head and he lost track of what was fact and fiction.
A duet.
A what?!
Well, I know this is rather sudden but I think it'd be a good change of pace if we sang a song together.
I...
It's okay if you don't want to; I didn't mean to put you on the spot.
No, I'll do it.
What in the world had he gotten himself into? Why did he agree to it? He lay on his back and sighed, staring at the crack in the ceiling as if it would give him the answer. He rolled over onto his stomach and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to ignore the queasiness in his stomach and go to sleep.
--
Nothing had changed and everything had changed since they first joined the jimusho. Takizawa Hideaki still had the innate ability to command everyone's attention when he walked into a room. For a time, Tsubasa himself had been one of his satellites, content to stay in the background and revolve around the jimusho's brightest new star. They were even friends, of sort - the kind that grew attached to each other by circumstance and common surroundings. But the more they worked together, the more it became obvious that if Takizawa was the sun, then Tsubasa was the moon. Initially, neither was particularly talented with a microphone or a drama script in his hand but after being pushed continuously and given numerous opportunities by Johnny-san who recognized frog princes when he saw one, Takizawa grew by leaps and bounds whereas Tsubasa continued to stumble clumsily over lines that fell wooden from his lips; whereas Tsubasa took immediately to new dance routines like a fish to water, Takizawa got chased around the room by Sanche-san's stick and his mug of coffee. Both being highly competitive by nature, they began to regard the other with a bit of childish resentment - after all, their shortcomings felt all the more painful when confronted constantly with the ease with which the other performed at their weakness. Thus, even though they had started out as friends, it had been a couple of years since the two had willingly cooperated on anything.
--
And what in the world would their collaboration look like anyway? What would they sing? What about the choreography? What were Takizawa's intentions in even suggesting the idea? As it turned out, whereas Tsubasa had absolutely no clue, Takizawa seemed to have all the answers. If Tsubasa had realized from observing from a distance that Takizawa had grown up to become a consummate, perfect idol from that overly perky boy he first encountered several years ago, the image was only magnified when they actually worked together towards a common goal. Well, worked together was a tad generous way of putting it.
"We'll sing SMAP-san's Run, Run, Run - okay with you? I already cleared it with Nakai-kun and Kimura-kun."
Takizawa was looking at him from across the table and tapping the point of his pencil lightly against his pad of paper. Tsubasa glanced down at the page reflexively and blanched. It was impressively full of scribbles and numbers galore in various colored ink and pencil. "Of course," he said hastily. Really, there wasn't a proper way that they could decline to sing their sempai's song after Takizawa had already gone to the trouble of requesting it specifically. He hadn't known what to expect but he didn't anticipate that Takizawa would've already put so much thought into it only two days after he had agreed to do a duet with him. It made him feel ill-prepared in comparison. He hesitated. "About the choreography?" he ventured.
Takizawa picked up his notepad and frowned at some of his scribbles. "Nothing too complicated would be best since there are dance numbers immediately before and after on the schedule with a costume change to boot. Let's just run around the arena for the main part of the song. We'll start from the main stage and then swoop outwards in two circles. Fits with the lyrics that way too, don't you think?" He flipped the page and quickly sketched out a diagram, holding it up for Tsubasa's approval.
Tsubasa found himself nodding agreeably. When Takizawa put it that way, it did sound so much better than anything that he might have had in mind. He had wanted to be helpful and offer ideas, but without meaning to, Tsubasa had found himself swept up by Takizawa's suggestions.
--
After he got over the initial resentment he had felt at being caught up as a pawn in Takizawa's "produce a concert" game, Tsubasa slowly came to understand that Takizawa really did have the best intentions of the juniors in mind and that if he came across as a bit overbearing in his approach, it was because he was struggling to figure out how to balance the weight of his responsibility. Now that he was watching, he could see it in the way Takizawa made neat annotations and changes in his trusty notepad after a meeting with the staff, lips drawn thin and close to his teeth with grim determination and he could see it in how Takizawa sat rigidly behind a table as he assigned songs and roles to the other juniors for the upcoming concert and also in every time he flinched at the subsequent barely concealed grumbles from discontent juniors. At these moments, Tsubasa's heart ached and went out to him - it couldn't have been easy, but Takizawa never complained.
Well! Takizawa-Hideaki-the-idol wasn't so perfect after all, and that made him an awfully lot more interesting, Tsubasa mused.
**
"Hey, you still like baseball, don't you?"
Tsubasa eyed Hideaki warily. If he didn't know better, he would think that Takizawa was purposely trying to throw him off-kilter with a question that just came out of the blue from nowhere. "Sure," he said cautiously.
"I got that new N64 game, that that..."
Tsubasa leaned forward excitedly. "Ken Griffey, Jr.'s Slugfest?" He held his breath - it couldn't possibly be that game. It was the most anticipated sports game of the year for N64 and practically impossible to find; he had tried calling half a dozen game stores yesterday to see if they could locate a copy.
"Yep, that's the one." Takizawa grinned. "Want to come over to my place sometime to play?"
"Yes," Tsubasa said immediately without hesitation.
"How about tomorrow after rehearsal?"
Tsubasa ran his schedule through his mind. "It'll be too late," he said regretfully. "We won't get out until at least 10pm and then we have a 6am rehearsal the next day."
Takizawa shrugged. "Then just sleep over."
--
It all made perfect sense at the time which is why the next night, Tsubasa found himself clutching a pillow while watching as a whistling Takizawa laid out a futon next to the bed. Takizawa patted the quilt down one last time. "Welcome to Hotel Takizawa, where our guests' comfort is our number one priority."
Tsubasa rolled his eyes. "Sorry to trouble you," he added.
"Not a bother at all," Takizawa said through a grin and a yawn. "Shall we turn in for the night then?"
Tsubasa nodded and they switched spots. Takizawa hopped into his bed and stretched his hand out to switch off the lamp while Tsubasa squirmed around on the unfamiliar bedding, trying to find a comfortable way to settle down.
"Hey."
Takizawa's voice was soft but it might as well have been as loud as gunshot; Tsubasa took a sharp breath through his nose. "What is it?"
"It's nice isn't it?" Takizawa poked his head over the edge of the bed and smiled down at Tsubasa who blinked back at him. "Being friends now," he clarified.
"Yea, it's nice." To his surprise, Tsubasa found that it was the truth. This was the first time that Takizawa had explicitly referenced the fact that just a short few months ago, they were anything but friends. It was kind of weird that they were friends, but he supposed that's what they were - friends slept over at each other's apartments and enjoyed spending time together and that was definitely true of him and Takizawa now. He stretched out and felt his shoulders relaxing; albeit brief, Takizawa's words did much to calm his vague uneasiness and now he just felt overwhelmingly tired. "Night, Takizawa," he mumbled, feeling himself drifting off to sleep.
"Night, Tsubasa," Takizawa whispered back and withdrew in a rustling of quilts.
A few seconds later, Takizawa popped his head over the side of the bed again. "Do you mind that I call you Tsubasa?"
Tsubasa opened his eyes reluctantly and raised an eyebrow wearily. "Isn't that what you've been calling me anyway?"
Takizawa laughed and Tsubasa felt all funny in his stomach again. "I thought I'd check anyway."
"You woke me up to ask me that?" Tsubasa whined.
"You weren't asleep anyway." Takizawa's grin was infectious and Tsubasa smiled back.
"Good night," Tsubasa said, pointedly turning his back. They did have to wake up early tomorrow after all. "I'll see you in the morning, Hide-kun."
The last thing Tsubasa heard before falling asleep was Hideaki's cheery voice saying "Night!" back.
--
It was easy to continue going over to Hideaki's apartment after that initial night. They had started to spend more time together, each moment cementing their fledgling friendship deeper. They already shared much of the same work schedule and they liked most of the same foods so they usually grabbed a bite to eat together after work. Then, since Tsubasa lived further away from the jimusho buildings, it was a no-brainer that he slept over at Hideaki's to save on the commute time in the morning.
As much as they had in common though, Tsubasa couldn't understand for the life of him, Hideaki's obsession with pro-wrestling. Wrestling was okay - he had liked it well enough when he was a kid himself. It's just that they were adults now and pro-wrestling with its tacky masks and hideously unattractive spandex was well, childish.
"I have a hero complex," Hideaki explained again for the umpteenth time. "There's always a hero and a villain in any fight. Actually, the storylines can get quite complex." He leaned forward eagerly, obviously excited at the opportunity to deliver yet another monologue on the merits of his favorite pro-wrestler of the week and catch Tsubasa up on all the latest developments in said storylines.
From experience, Tsubasa recognized all the warning signs. "Really. Great." He turned his attention back to his sketchbook hastily and examined his last drawing. It would be fun to design his own costumes for his own concerts one day. Now that was a worthwhile ambition and hobby. It was utterly unfathomable to him what could be so interesting about a bunch of sweaty guys doing their best to smash each other's faces into pulp. (Plus, if you were talking about heroes, he quite preferred the shining prince on a white horse character type.)
He glanced up at Hideaki and tried not to laugh too loudly when he was met with a disgruntled frown.
--
Just for giggles, Tsubasa decided to challenge Hideaki to a fight. Of course, it wouldn't be as fun if he challenged him directly (what with Hideaki going on and on all the time about wrestling storylines) so he decided to take his chances one day and be the villain. He pounced on Hideaki while he was sitting on the couch, dragging him down and pinning him onto the ground.
Hideaki yelped and Tsubasa grinned. His victory was brief; a mere few seconds later, Hideaki had flipped him neatly onto his back and was pressing him into the wooden floor with the weight of his body. Tsubasa wriggled around in protest, attempting to kick him off, and then froze abruptly in place.
Oh.
Hideaki's mouth was slightly parted and he was panting slightly, a sheen of sweat breaking on his forehead. Tsubasa's eyes widened in panic.
Ohhh.
He loosened a hand and jabbed Hideaki in the ribs. "Get off before you crush my lungs."
Hideaki rolled off obediently and not a second too early. Tsubasa sat up and busied himself with re-adjusting his clothes. Maybe... maybe wrestling wasn't so bad after all.
**
They ran down the narrow walkway, Tsubasa throwing his head back while singing into the microphone until the glow of the overhead spotlights behind his eyelids made him dizzy. He loved everything about concerts and how they made him feel alive - the pleasure of seeing their hard work culminating in one night, the surge of adrenaline passed along from the cheers of the crowd and the pulsating beat of the music that drowned out his thoughts so that all he had to do was let his body move by itself - there simply wasn't anything else like it. He looked over next to him - Hideaki flashed him a smile - and just as quickly, looked away.
--
"We're good together." Hideaki hooked an arm over Tsubasa's shoulder and pulled him in close. Tsubasa shivered and sneezed. Hideaki was still wet from his after-concert shower and warm to the touch. "Cheers to our first duet together!" The other juniors around them clapped and whistled their approval.
Giddy and exhausted, Tsubasa leaned into the half-hug, ignoring the steady drip of water from Hideaki's hair on his arm.
**
Tsubasa took to spending even more time at Hideaki's apartment until it was like his home away from home - Hideaki even gave him his own set of keys to the apartment. He enjoyed spending time with his best friend, he told himself and his parents.
Not that it wasn't the truth. Hideaki was great company and they would like as not talk the night away over mugs of lukewarm tea and cigarettes, sharing their ambitions, worries and fears without reservation as they were to spend it parked in front of the television in a videogame marathon.
In addition, he discovered that one of Hideaki's best points was his stomach of steel. This was decidedly useful as it allowed Tsubasa free reign to test out recipes as much as he pleased in the kitchen.
"Pepperoncini pasta," he said proudly as he set the steaming plate in front of Hideaki. He stood back and watched anxiously for Hideaki's reaction to his latest creation.
Hideaki twirled up a heaping forkful eagerly and managed to shove the whole mess in his mouth. He chewed diligently for a full two seconds before making a grab for his glass of water. Tsubasa's eyes grew wide with alarm - surely it wasn't that bad?
"A big spicy, isn't it?" Hideaki said after a while. He smiled.
Tsubasa beamed back at him. "You didn't have any peppers so I put some hot sauce in it. To bring it up a notch."
"Ah." Hideaki picked up a tissue and blew his nose. "It's tasty."
"Let me try," Tsubasa ordered, sitting down at the table as well, and Hideaki handed over the fork. Tsubasa picked up a strand and dropped it in his mouth. Almost immediately, he spat it back out in his hand and made frantic flailing motions for water. Hideaki hastened to oblige and Tsubasa gulped it down in one go. "Liar," he gasped out in between gulps of his second glass of water.
Hideaki grinned and didn't bother moving away when Tsubasa moved to kick him underneath the table.
--
The not so good point about Takizawa Hideaki was his total lack of fashion sense - it was atrocious to the point of being literally painful to bear, but as it never took much bullying on Tsubasa's part to drag him shopping, it ended up being quite pleasant to have his very own compliant life-sized model to dress-up.
Except that very model had pulled a mysterious disappearing act at the moment. Tsubasa frowned, turning around slowly to see if he could spot the head of spiked brown hair in the sea of customers. Impossible. On a busy Sunday afternoon with half the clientele sporting similar hairstyles, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack. A particularly short needle in a haystack, he grumbled ungenerously to himself. Never mind, he knew exactly where he could find him. Tsubasa grabbed another basic tee and headed directly to the accessories section at the back of the store.
Sure enough, Hideaki was hovering suspiciously next to a display of gaudy, sequined belts. Tsubasa groaned and rolled his eyes. Figures.
He tapped Hideaki on the shoulder. "Find something you like, Takizawa-san?" he said dryly.
Hideaki whirled around and grinned. "Yep," he said enthusiastically. "Two actually - which do you think is better?" He laid two equally dazzling belts out on a nearby table for his benefit. Tsubasa flinched reflexively. To be honest, he couldn't tell the difference between the belts unless it was that the one on the left seemed to hurt his eyes a tad more.
"Or maybe I should just get both," Hideaki mumbled. (Either lost in thought or hypnotized by the glitter, Tsubasa wasn't sure).
Tsubasa shielded his eyes with his right hand and patted Hideaki reassuringly on the shoulder with his left. "Definitely both. You only have what? Five hanging in your closet now?"
"Six," Hideaki corrected with pride, missing Tsubasa's sarcasm entirely. Satisfied and momentary existential crisis averted, he grabbed both belts and headed off to the register whistling. Tsubasa shook his head in amusement and followed. Hideaki was a complete lost cause and besides, how could he crush his delusions when his eyes were sparkling almost as much as the belts themselves?
Oh well. The glitter would be helpful in locating the short needle in a crowd.
**
Tsubasa eyed himself critically in the mirror and frowned at a wayward strand of hair. That was easily fixed with another quick spritz of hairspray. He set the spray down and his hand hovered hesitantly over the bottle of cologne. It was new - an impulse purchase the other day. Shrugging his hesitation away, he picked the bottle up and applied some to his wrist and neck.
--
Sho narrowed his eyes and sniffed. "You smell different."
Tsubasa shrugged nonchalantly. "A person can't buy a new cologne?" Sho was sometimes too clever for his own good.
"Hmm." Sho's look was cool and appraising. "I see."
Tsubasa was beginning to think that Sho had a nasty habit of reading too deeply into minor details.
--
Hideaki came another step closer.
Tsubasa took another step backwards and banged smack up against the kitchen counter. He eyed Hideaki uneasily. "What is it?" he demanded.
"Nothing." Hideaki stepped closer again until his nose was a mere few centimeters away from Tsubasa's neck. "You just smell good." His warm breath caused Tsubasa to shiver and his stomach to do funny flipflops.
Tsubasa pushed Hideaki away. "You're a weirdo," he mumbled.
**
Tsubasa punched Hideaki lightly in the arm. "I don't see what the hype is all about and I don't know why you needed to brag so much," he groused, his grin belying his words.
Hideaki smiled broadly. Tsubasa's heart leaped up to lodge itself firmly in his throat.
"Well, it's my specialty," Hideaki said cheerfully. "Ta da!" With another dramatic flourish, he added the pièce de résistance - two strawberry pocky sticks.
"Better cook than me, my ass. Who can't put an icecream sundae together?" Tsubasa muttered in between spoonfuls of icecream, pulling the bowl away possessively and glaring menacingly at Hideaki when he tried to dip his own spoon in.
**
"Your thoughts on marriage?"
Tsubasa watched steadily as another bead of water slid down the side of his glass. Their interviewer was pretty - long hair dyed a stylish brown and curled into impeccable waves; she had a star-struck look in her eyes and she was fiddling nervously with her pen, clicking it incessantly in between questions. Tsubasa wished she would stop.
Hideaki took a sip of his iced tea and recrossed his legs. "It's good, isn't it, to settle down young?"
She beamed at him. "I've always wanted to get married young," Hideaki continued.
"You would be a wonderful father," she gushed, batting her eyelashes none too subtly. Hideaki smiled back at her.
**
Night after night, it was like watching his own private strip show.
Rather, it could more accurately be described as furtive glances stolen when Hideaki was pulling his t-shirt over his head or had his back turned. The little that he saw was already enough to make his heart pound in his ears; his imagination was more than happy to help him piece everything together into a slideshow.
Hideaki was absentmindedly scratching his head as he walked around the bedroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. Tsubasa swallowed hard, his brain melting rapidly from the double threat of the adorable way Hideaki's hair was sticking out every which way and the tantalizing curve of his shoulder blades.
"Help me look?" Hideaki's voice broke into his thoughts.
Tsubasa snapped his head upwards guiltily. "For what?"
"I can't find my blue checkered boxers. Have you seen them?"
"Nope."
"Then help me," Hideaki whined. Tsubasa snorted.
Hideaki was smiling sweetly at him. He knew that smile - it was the one calculated to charm others into giving him exactly what he wanted. He had seen Hideaki practicing it in the mirror. Well, no way in hell was it going to work on him this time.
He scooted down from his sitting position to lay fully on the futon and rolled onto his side, purposefully away from Hideaki, making a show of yawning loudly. "Stop being such a baby and just wear something else," he grumbled.
"Some friend you are," Hideaki sniffed.
**
"So when were you going to get around to telling me the news?"
"What news?" Tsubasa was genuinely confused.
"About Takizawa."
"Eh? There's something to tell?"
Sho stopped abruptly before turning the corner, forcing Tsubasa to stop as well. Sho turned around slowly and eyed Tsubasa. "Is that so?" he tsked and shook his head. "You're making sheep eyes at him every chance you get, spending all your free time with him and there's nothing to tell? Seriously now. How long have you two been dating?"
Tsubasa blushed furiously. "I am not and it's not like that," he protested.
"Then how is it like?" Sho, who had previously been grinning, looked perplexed. He reached out and touched Tsubasa on the shoulder.
And for the life of him, Tsubasa didn't know the answer.
--
How was it like? It was six months later and Tsubasa still didn't have a good answer to Sho's question. He leaned forward and let the water wash over his face, trying to relax himself in the rhythm of his morning shower routine.
He wasn't stupid - he didn't believe in fairy tales or handsome princes on snow-white horses (anymore) and even if they did exist, he wasn't exactly a distraught maiden or damsel in distress who required rescuing. He knew happily ever afters weren't a given and he'd seen enough of the world to realize long ago that real life problems rarely worked themselves out with pat solutions in 60 minute time blocks.
He knew all of this but the problem was he had fallen, fallen hard, for near perfection. Hideaki's smile was bright, albeit a little crooked. His stories were too long and repetitive, his jokes were old - but they still made him laugh anyway. Hideaki didn't quite float over the dance floor, but Tsubasa couldn't help but giggle every time his feet crossed and he ended up tripping over himself, literally. Takizawa Hideaki was just the right mix of perfection and imperfection - and it was this that Tsubasa was finding irresistibly addictive.
Of course, it also helped that Hideaki had grown up from that sorta cute boy he saw so many years ago into (what he was quickly realizing) his walking wet dream.
So was it just lust?
His cock twitched. Tsubasa smiled wryly. Okay, there was most definitely a generous dose of lust involved.
Or could it be?
Love?
He leaned his head back against the cool tiles. This is where it got complicated. This is what scared him. They were very good friends, to be sure, and lately, Hideaki had the habit of pulling him into hugs, coaxing him into being his guinea pig in whatever latest wrestling move he saw on tv or just dropping a kiss on his cheek. But heck, Hideaki had the habit of doing all of the above to his entire circle of friends: Yamashita considered it a good day if he managed to escape with only 5 bear hugs. It was Hideaki's nature and personality to be enthusiastically demonstrative and smother his friends with affection and gifts - Tsubasa was just his latest victim beneficiary.
The friendly overtures made him feel like he was floating in the air.
They also had the discomfiting effect of keeping him perpetually horny.
He shivered, his body tingling from the memory of the hug they had shared last night. The innocent gesture had sent an immediate wave of lust through his body. He had stepped away hastily, afraid that his body would betray him and Hideaki had given him a curious look. On top of that, it had taken supreme willpower to unglue his eyes from Hideaki's ass as he walked away. Curse whoever had invented the combination of low-rise jeans and simple white t-shirts because damn it all to hell if Hideaki didn't wear them like they were invented just for him.
Tsubasa's right hand trailed its way down his body. At any rate, his own feelings were only one shaky half of the equation. What did Hideaki think of him? It was all moot - lust, love, whatever - if Takizawa Hideaki thought of him as no more than his very good friend.
Tsubasa sighed. Well, whatever it was, he had it bad.
Despite the nagging voice in his head that told him it was wrong for him to think of Hideaki like this, his cock had absolutely no qualms about the situation at all. Tsubasa groaned in frustration and worked his hand slowly back and forth over his erection, guiltily indulging in visions that it was Hideaki's hands and mouth on him, teasing and coaxing him to higher heights of pleasure.
His release, when it came, was thankfully quick but left him feeling empty and unsatisfied.
**
Another junior concert, another duet with Takizawa. Again, it was Takizawa picking the song, but this time, Tsubasa had input on how they would actually execute the performance. He chose to play the piano. It meant hours of dogged practice on the piano on top of of a schedule already packed with dance rehearsal and costume fittings but it was worth it - Tsubasa wasn't quite sure he had the ability to stand next to Hideaki for the full duration of the song.
**
"Hello?" Tsubasa walked around the dark apartment, turning on lights. It didn't seem like Hideaki was home yet. He made his way to the bedroom, yawning nonstop. Yep, no sign of Hideaki. He stared bleary eyed first at the dresser where he knew Hideaki had placed the neatly folded up the guest futon that morning and then at the bed. The bed was a mess. Tsubasa grinned, recalling how Hideaki had yelped indignantly at the particular method he had chosen to wake him up with - tickling - which had turned into the both of them having a pillow fight.
He looked longingly at the dresser again and then back at the bed. Well, this choice was easy.
--
When Tsubasa woke up, he found himself nearly eye to eye with Hideaki. Startled, he propelled himself backwards. In his haste to get away, he overestimated the amount of bed and rolled clear off the edge. Luckily, his legs got caught up in the blankets so his landing was relatively delayed and softened.
To add insult to injury, Hideaki was now leaning over the edge of the bed and laughing. Tsubasa glared up at him. Stupid Takizawa Hideaki.
"Sorry," Hideaki said, choking back one last giggle so that it came out more like a snort.
"Your pain. I feel it," Tsubasa said grumpily, blowing his hair out of his eyes.
"Are you okay?" Hideaki's eyes were round with concern now.
Tsubasa pushed away at the blankets and struggled to stand up. "Yea, just as soon as I kick your ass," he growled.
Hideaki squeaked in protest and very cleverly, made a running start to lock himself in the bathroom.
--
After that morning, neither of them really brought up the issue of Tsubasa sleeping in the futon anymore. The most that was said about it was the following night when Hideaki had scooted over in bed and patted the space next to him invitingly. Tsubasa feigned annoyance, complaining about Hideaki's stinky morning breath to which he received a pillow in the face, but he was secretly delighted.
--
If there was a heaven on earth, this was it, Tsubasa thought to himself dreamily. His conscious nibbled at the edges of his happiness but he shoved it away impatiently. It wasn't like he was asking for more than what was being offered, he informed himself - not that he would have even dared hope for more than what was already reality - Hideaki's bed was nice and cozy, cozier still it was to be wrapped in Hideaki's arms.
**
Tsubasa took a sharp breath through his nose. Forget heaven, this was a hell entirely of his own making. He exhaled shakily and held onto the fistful of blankets in his right hand as if it was his last tie to sanity. His mind raced through all his different options and slowly, he forced his body to relax.
Bad choice.
Behind him, Hideaki sighed in his sleep, wriggled around and resettled himself. Tsubasa froze. Well, shit. He gritted his teeth to fight back a moan, resisting every fiber in his being that was screaming happily at him to lean backwards and seek out a stronger connection to the enticing warmth of Hideaki's body.
The devil must've been paying close attention because he granted his wish. Hideaki shifted again, moving closer to him and tightening his hold around his waist. This time, Tsubasa couldn't help but let loose a tiny whimper, his every nerve strumming with pleasure and his cock impossibly harder than before.
One of these days, Takizawa Hideaki was going to inadvertently kill him just like this and Tsubasa was going to die a happy death.
--
Tsubasa walked up and down the supermarket aisles aimlessly. It had been a week since that morning and he could still feel his heart rate speed up and his ears burning every time he thought back to how delightfully naughty it had been to feel Hideaki's arousal pressed against him through their layers of clothing.
After soaking up the experience for as long as his cock (and conscience) could take it, he had extricated himself carefully from Hideaki's arms, permitted himself one guilty peek underneath the blanket and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom for a long, cold shower.
Then, he had fled.
There was no getting around it; he had ran away and didn't stop running until he was safely hidden in his own apartment, in his own bed. To be honest, he was still running - avoiding any unnecessary contact, making excuses and surrounding himself with other friends. It wasn't easy, but he managed.
At night, it was a different story. When he finally managed to doze off, images of Hideaki invaded his dreams and he would wake up with the sheets twisted around his legs, sweating and panting. On top of that, his heart complained bitterly about the abrupt loss of the daily dose of comfort that it had been accustomed to getting. He couldn't stop thinking about Hideaki - the jokes and meals they had shared, the warmth of his smile, and the long nights they had spent talking over their dreams for the future. Well, there was no reason to deny himself the pleasure of the friendship, Tsubasa reminded himself. The week apart had forced Tsubasa to evaluate his priorities and see the situation more clearly. It was Hideaki's companionship he missed the most and friends was better than this emptiness of nothing. Their friendship couldn't be risked for the slim possibility of some short-lived, lust-fueled flirtation.
He just needed to get over this ridiculous crush.
Fingers trembling slightly, Tsubasa flipped open his phone and dialed Hideaki's number. Hideaki picked up after one ring.
"Hey, Tsubasa?"
Tsubasa took a deep breath. "Hey. Where are you now?" The question was a bit disingenuous - he had overheard him talking to Yamapi and knew that he had planned to go straight home after dance practice.
"I just got home - did you want to come over?"
"Well, I'm in the supermarket. I was thinking we could have pepperoncini pasta tonight but I wanted to check that you had olive oil."
The sound of Hideaki's laughter was like a drop of water on parched lips. Tsubasa's heart skipped a beat and true to his new agreement with himself, he ruthlessly squashed it down.
"Hrmm... lemme see... yep. You might want to pick up some peppers though."
Hideaki's tone was light and teasing; Tsubasa felt the corners of his mouth curving into a pout. "That was ages ago," he whined. "You're never going to let me live that down, huh?"
"Never," Hideaki said triumphantly.
**
After that, Tsubasa was more careful with his heart. He rationed his time with Hideaki strictly, never allowing himself to sleep over Hideaki's apartment for more than two nights in a row and he was always the first to pull away from a hug or a kiss on the cheek. He also made a concerted effort to push Hideaki out of his fantasies, going back to picturing nameless faces instead and after making the mistake once of staring too long, he would steadfastly look away in the mornings when Hideaki was sure to be sprawled all over the bed, boxers unsettled low enough in his sleep to reveal the light dusting of hair underneath the navel and the smooth dip inwards from the hips.
At first, it was agonizingly sweet, sweet torture, but as time passed, Tsubasa was content. If friends was the most that he could get, he was going to take it in a heartbeat and forget about the possibility for anything more.
**
"What do you think of Takizawa?" The camera zoomed in on his face. Tsubasa glanced reflexively to the side where Takizawa was on stand-by, waiting for his own turn to be in front of the camera.
Takizawa Hideaki was the best friend he could ever ask for, of course. But how could he express something that meaningful in words?
Tsubasa glanced over at Hideaki again who was grinning at him encouragingly. "He's a person... a person with a very warm heart," he finished with a bright smile. A second later, he yelped - Hideaki had magically appeared by his side and had swatted him on the head. Tsubasa's smile grew wider.
**
Tsubasa draped a towel carefully across the top of Hideaki's forehead.
"What would I do without you?" Hideaki mumbled, opening his eyes slowly.
"Sneeze to death, most likely," Tsubasa retorted. He fussed with the blanket, tucking it in more securely underneath Hideaki's chin. He checked the clock again. Nope, not time yet for another round of cough syrup.
"Then I'm glad you're here," Hideaki said with a smile.
Tsubasa stuck out his tongue. "Yea, well, you better not get me sick," he grumbled. "And don't you dare move from that bed again. I'm going to heat up the soup." He glared menacingly at Hideaki, who shrank down meekly in bed and had the grace to blush.
**
The third time his phone rang and refused to stop, Tsubasa crawled out of bed to fetch it. He could've sworn that he wasn't scheduled for work until the afternoon and judging by the amount of light coming in from the window, it was still ridiculously early in the morning. Who the hell could it be? He yawned and put the phone to his ear.
"Congratulations!"
Tsubasa's sleep-addled brain woke up enough to process that it was Sho. "What? Huh?"
"Turn on the tv - you and Takizawa are all over the morning news!"
Tsubasa picked up the remote and turned on his television, flipping rapidly through the channels until he found a picture of himself. "What is this?" he demanded, heart thumping painfully. His eyes and ears were taking in the sounds and images, but nothing was making sense.
Sho's voice continued babbling over the phone but Tsubasa couldn't concentrate hard enough to figure out what he was saying. The giant, obscenely oversized text on the screen screaming "SOLO DEBUT" was making him sick so he turned the tv off. "Sho, I gotta go. I'll call you back later."
Tsubasa hung up without waiting for an answer and immediately made another phone call, praying that Tsuyoshi would pick up. Even if Tsuyo didn't know the answer, he would know how to help. To his relief, Tsuyoshi picked up after the third ring.
"I saw the news. How you holding up, kid?"
Tsubasa sank to the ground, knees suddenly weak and wobbly with the relief that he wouldn't need to put the situation into words. "What am I going to do, Tsuyo?"
"What kind of question is that? What do you want to do?" Tsuyo threw right back.
Tsubasa bit his lip. Tsuyo was right. It was a pretty strange question to even think to ask. He and Hideaki had talked about a unit debut before, but it had always seemed like a pipe dream in the clouds. "Debut with Takizawa," he said slowly.
A long pause and Tsubasa could feel the anxiety rising in his chest. The decision was already made - how could it be unraveled?
"You're a simple fool but that's what I like about you." Tsuyo chuckled softly. "I reckon you're selling yourself short and want a lot more than just that, right?" Another pause. "It might be hard, you know. Sure, you'll be together but..."
Tsuyo's voice trailed off and there was another uncomfortable silence. The hairs on the back of Tsubasa's neck prickled and heat rushed to his face. Koichi-kun. Of course. He had instinctively known that Tsuyo-nii would understand but still, he had never quite placed his finger exactly why. Tsubasa sniffled and he forced a smile on his face, the easier to make it carry through in his voice. "I'm... I'm sorry."
Tsuyo cleared his throat. "Don't be - I'm not. But what about you? What do you want?"
At that moment, the thought of him and Hideaki debuting solo and then continuing to go on their separate ways was more than Tsubasa could bear. Who the hell was he kidding? It wasn't some passing crush on a handsome face that he could push away through sheer willpower. Whether he liked it or not, his heart had settled firmly on Takizawa Hideaki. "I want it," he said without hesitation. "I want to debut with Takizawa."`
"Then find a way to get it," Tsuyo said firmly, the quiet strength in his words giving Tsubasa hope that maybe, just maybe it could happen. "Just remember to not hurt yourself too badly," he added kindly.
"Takizawa won't hurt me," Tsubasa protested immediately, his conviction in the truth of his words surprising even himself.
Tsuyo sighed. "How could he when you're doing more than enough of that to yourself?"
--
After hanging up with Tsuyoshi, Tsubasa turned off his cellphone. He wanted some time to process the new events for himself. He mulled over the situation and his options - it didn't seem like there were many. Once Johnny-san had made a business decision, he was notorious for sticking to it. Granted, Takizawa and himself were two of Johnny-san's favorites, but what can be done when the media was already reporting a rumor that they will debut solo?
Reluctantly, he turned on his phone again and called Hideaki.
Hideaki answered on the first ring. "Hey, I've been trying to reach you."
"Sorry, I just needed some time to think."
Hideaki hummed his agreement. "So... what do you think?"
"It wasn't what I was expecting." Tsubasa paused and took a deep breath. "Or what I want."
"Then what do you want?"
Again with that question. "To be with you." Tsubasa's face flushed as he realized he had accidentally given voice to his thoughts. "To debut together with you," he corrected quickly.
"Then let's do it."
"What?" Tsubasa's head was spinning so fast it took him a second to realize that the room itself wasn't moving around.
"Let's debut together," Hideaki said excitedly. "We can do it."
**
"Congratulations on your marriage... ah no, on your debut." Shingo-kun beamed merrily at them from the monitor. Tetsuko-san tittered along with the audience and Koichi-kun guffawed loudly.
Tsubasa glanced over at Hideaki and giggled - they both had matching mortified expressions on their faces.
Note: So yep, I ended up shamelessly using a lot of my favorite tropes again. :D;;; maaaa...
Happy 28th Birthday, Tsubaskank \:0//////