Remix based on ungalad's fic 'On the Tequila'
Title: All's Fair
Rating: Hard R/NC-17?
Group/Pairing: Massu/NEWS (minus Tegoshi), other You&J members.
Warnings: Strange story formatting, stupid humor, AU-but-not-really.
Notes: I had so much fun with this once I actually could figure out a working formatting system and for that, I'm totally pleased with the outcome even if it's...weird. I believe it's easy to follow along but just in case, chunks of italics designate conversation occurring outside of the perceived reality in the first four sections. Vagueness of who is thinking what is done on purpose, but you find out towards the end. Lots of love to my beta for always being there whenever I needed to freak out, and I hope you enjoy this rather strange remix, ungalad!
Link to Original Story: On the Tequila
Link to Original Writer: ungalad @ dias_de_gloria
let's turn this room into a pirate ship
Yamashita kisses the same way he does everything else -- there is skill, a bit of passion, and a subtle taste of wanting to please, and Massu thinks he's doing a good job of it all. The mirrored wall of the dance studio is solid against his back, as is Yamashita's chest pressed against his front, his arm braced against the mirror next to his head; Massu looks up at him, resting his head against the mirror as his breath quickens, gasping at fingers drifting over his neck, sending sparks down his spine. He threads his fingers into Yamashita's hair, crushing their mouths together, a mish-mash of harsh breaths and tongue and need.
He hadn't expected Yamashita to be in the building, let alone booking the same practice room to go over choreography, but --
"Dance practice? That's what we're going with?"
"Have you ever seen Massu dance? It's practically sin."
"But it's not as interesting if we don't even get to see that part!"
"Jeez, fine, you pick then!"
"They're pirates, obviously."
"Pirates? Even we've used that theme..."
"I don't want to see you plundering someone's mouth, thanks."
The sea breeze rustles Yamashita's hair, the ocean spray cooling Massu's cheeks, and the wood of the ship under their feet creak and sway with the tide. Yamashita tugs on the ends of Massu's hair, tilting his head back further, breaking the kiss to nip at the expanse of neck now open to him. The ship's wheel digs into Massu's back and he groans, trying to shift a bit so he's, at least, a little more comfortable.
Yamashita chuckles, hardly audible over the billowing of the sails above them, then pulls away to look at his first mate. He reaches up to glide a thumb over Massu's plump lower lip, a small grin on his lips as he watches Massu swallow in anticipation. Yamashita's eyes, however, are full of promise, a promise of things to come later in the privacy of his quarters, as he's sure getting splinters would just kill the mood, and Massu nods in understanding, perhaps from experience. Yamashita pulls away completely and helps Massu straighten himself out, knowing just how much the other hates being unpresentable in the slightest.
Just as Massu's about to turn away and get back to his duties, Yamashita tugs him back and plops his hat back on him. "A bet's a bet. You have to wear the hat."
He laughs when Massu merely sighs in resignation.
"How vanilla of you."
"If I'm going to picture Yamapi having sex with anyone it's going to be with me okay?!"
you bet i'm available for circulation
Something tells Shige that when Melvil Dewey came up with his decimal library cataloguing system, he had visions of decades and decades of students, academics, and philosophers utilizing it for the greater good, to share information and better themselves, to obtain an education --
"And I thought pirates were weird..."
"Shut up, librarians are hot!"
"Oh yeah, turtlenecks and sweater-vests. So hot."
-- as he was thinking, he had a feeling that diligent students looking for the right book was the ideal in Dewey's mind, not, say, having the books covered up by the desperate frottage of two people looking for a private space in the heat of the moment.
Privacy the ancient economics stacks offered twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
"If you insist on this boring scenario, can they at least wear glasses?"
"When else would they wear glasses?"
"...okay, carry on."
Shige doesn't remember when they wound up on the floor, but he finds it hard to remember much at all when he has Massu in his lap, wriggling and panting into his ear. He's not even sure if this is legal, which is ironic, all things considered, but all he wants right now is to bite down onto Massu's neck, so he does. Hearing the keen of pleasure from Massu's throat sends a surge of lust through Shige, fingers flying to the other's pants, undoing the belt as fast as his clumsy fingers will allow, then shoving them down past Massu's hips and out of the way as soon as he can as Massu returns the favor. They both sigh in relief when skin meets skin amidst the jangle of belt buckles, and they start to slide together in tandem, hips bucking against each other's, hips moving in ways Shige has never even attempted before since he'd probably hurt himself.
Massu, on the other hand, seems to be a natural, keeping a hand wrapped around them both, stroking in rhythm. He opens his eyes in the midst of it all, studying Shige like he's the food science textbook he feigned needing, and this one look, of all things, makes Shige blush even harder.
"What?" Shige murmurs.
Massu smiles behind askew, black plastic frames, and both their movements slow down to a gentle rocking. "You're just really, really cute."
Shige merely stares at him at a loss for what to say, and Massu laughs, leans forward, and kisses him.
"Awwww, this is like a reverse romantic comedy! Do they date later? Is it true love?"
"Did you have to mention true love? Ugh, the mood's totally gone..."
"Oh...sorry."
thou art more lovely and more temperate*
It always hits him when he least expects it.
It starts in the pit of his stomach, like a weird sea creature trying to worm its way out of his body. It then crawls up his spine to about halfway, then warms his ribs and lungs, then swoops up his neck, into his cheeks, then pools in the heart, and the next thing he knows, he's asking Massu -- reliable, calming, unquestioning and manly man-of-his-affections Massu -- to stay over for the night.
The smile he gets does him in, really.
He doesn't plan on having sex, either, for what it's worth -- he would have been perfectly fine with cuddling since they both are tired from work and have interviews with magazines early the next morning, but the worst thing about hanging out with Massu is that the other tends to be exceedingly attractive when he's not trying to be. Ryo had laid down on the couch, putting his head on Massu's lap as they watched some drama rerun, and Massu started to comb his fingers through his hair. Ryo unwittingly purred; Massu laughed.
"I guess you like that."
"I like a lot of things," Ryo mutters, hoping that the 'including you' goes without saying.
Massu runs his fingers through his hair again.
Kissing Massu comes naturally, as does undressing him, breaking through the heavy air between them to pin him down to the couch, marking his neck with his lips. He's having a hard time believing this is happening because Massu is...Massu. He's weird and indecisive and not at all his type, and if someone had told him a week ago that he would be doing this with Massu, he probably would have suggested the person go see a psychologist because the likelihood was slim to none, feelings be damned. But now, it's all he wants to do, and the thought that Massu is the only person he wants to do plants itself firmly in his mind.
As it stands now, he's having a hard time keeping himself in check -- all he really wants is to simply have his way with the panting man underneath him, but he realizes that this, this shouldn't just be about him. It should be about Massu, too, and what makes him feel special, what makes him feel good and what doesn't and goddamn is Ryo going to try and avoid those things at all costs.
Ryo just wants it to actually mean something, for once in his life, and the thought alone makes him a little dizzy.
"Ryo?" Massu ventures.
He looks down at him. Massu's clothes are disheveled, his hair mussed and tangled, lips slightly parted with an angry red mark on his neck that must have been from when Ryo tried to suck his pulse out of his skin. He looks so unlike anything Ryo has ever seen, and now...now Ryo knows that he's utterly screwed, but he may as well enjoy the fall.
"Not here. Bedroom," Ryo mumbles --
"Wait, this isn't following our theme of alternate realities!"
"Nishikido-kun being nice isn't enough of an alternate reality?"
"Ryo is nice sometimes..."
"Okay, Nishikido-kun and Massu having sex isn't enough of an alternate reality?"
"...touché."
are you sure you don't work for cingular?**
Koyama knows that his talents are few and far between. It's not to look down on himself, but he's quite aware of the fact that he is and will always be bad at certain things. There's a reason why he's always on tambourine duty when he and his friends go karaoke, and as for dancing, he's only as good as the next song with a decent beat. He's relatively smart, but consistently air-headed. In a lot of ways, Koyama is incredibly average.
But what he is exceptionally good at is talking to people and, subsequently, making them happy. For whatever reason, he always knows just what to say to brighten someone's day or to make someone feel better, and he thinks it's because he also happens to be really good at reading atmospheres and the people he's with. Plainly put, Koyama is a people person. Communication is no problem to him, and so he thinks it should be an important component in every relationship that he has.
However, the economy doesn't look too nicely on people who can only list, "natural conversationalist," on a resume, and it's hard out there to find anything decent to do in this day and age.
So naturally, he opts for something slightly less decent.
Granted, his line at the sex hotline isn't always --
"Are we about to daydream about phone sex right now?"
"...yes?"
"Ew."
"I bet you've never even tried it."
"Why would I want to try phone sex? I have a girlfriend, I can get the real thing."
"..."
"..."
"...that was low."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I can make it up to you -- "
"You have five seconds to stop spooning me."
-- ringing off the hook, but he has a few dedicated callers that he's grown fond of over the past few months. On the phone now is a man by the name of Massu, though in more intimate conversation, Koyama tends to go with Taka. More personal and all.
At this moment, he's describing in great, crystal clear detail just where he'd like Taka to stick that thick, hard member --
"Heh. Member-ai all right."
-- member cock and by the sound of the man on the other end, he would really like to follow through with that. Koyama laughs, rich and throaty, closing his eyes and letting himself think about what the other man looks like. Given how youthful he sounds, he thinks he's in his twenties, probably mid. He knows he's a swimmer, and swimmers have the best bodies, all firm and toned and solid, unlike all the lanky company Koyama tends to get. No, this one sounds like he knows what he's doing, and Koyama can only imagine how he must feel inside him --
"Are we imagining Koyama imagining things?"
"Isn't that really the basis of phone sex?"
"Too many layers of imagining..."
-- but why imagine all these things when Koyama could simply experience it firsthand? He waits until Taka's breathing has calmed, returning slightly to normal after his (undoubtedly amazing) orgasm, and then goes for the gold and asks him if he'd like to meet up in person some time.
"Okay, first you make fun of me for not liking phone sex, and now we're imagining our imaginary Koyama ditching imaginary phone sex and getting imaginary real sex?"
"When you put it like that, it's all very confusing..."
"I'm just going to bed."
richly crafted but crafted nonetheless
Junno rubs at his eyes as he wakes up from a restless night, his hand going up to his hair to fuss with it, trying to make it more presentable but failing miserably. Yoko is equally unkempt but at least he's still asleep and has the luxury of sleeping some more, having the morning off. Junno literally rolls off the couch, steps around the snacks and beer cans littering the floor, and trudges to the fridge and pours himself a glass of water. He drinks it down in a few gulps, feeling the impending headache ebbing slowly, though not quick enough.
Really, this was all Massu's fault.
When Junno and Yoko walked into a bar a few weeks ago, they saw Tegoshi and Massu there, all cozy and chatting amongst themselves at the bar. It started off innocent -- they greeted the harmonic duo, ordered a few drinks as they made small talk, then claimed a table a little ways away. They liked each other all right, sure, but when Yoko and Junno had finally managed to make their schedules work after both of them having their own respective tours and television appearances, they weren't looking to share their time. It was all part of Yoko's best friend code, something Junno wasn't even aware existed, but it sounded awesome and cool and exclusive and cool.
But when Yoko came back from his turn at the bar, he looked disturbed. Junno peered at him curiously, taking the beer from him as Yoko began to talk in quick, hushed tones, something about how Massu was drunk -- drunk Massu!!! -- and letting all of his secrets go willy-nilly and he apparently made out with Yamapi, oh my god, and Yoko really wasn't jealous. At all. In the slightest.
Junno had just given him a knowing look and Yoko spent the rest of the night whining about how unfair his life was.
Of course, the topic at hand kept coming up, and it all came crashing around them when Junno let out a small, stray thought that he blames completely on the beer.
"But Yamapi and Massu's lips were practically made for kissing, so it might as well be with each other."
Yoko stared at him like he was crazy and, worse yet, a traitor to his cause.
The thoughts, though, kept coming back, because what he said he sincerely believed in. Laying on the floor of Yoko's apartment that night, he opened his mouth again, much to Yoko's chagrin.
"Wouldn't it be hot seeing Yamapi and Massu making out?"
The rest is now a piece of embarrassing history, much like Arashi's debut see-through jumpsuits.
As luck (or misfortune) would have it, the next couple of times they go out, they run into Tegoshi and Massu at the exact same place, and each time they walk away with some new overhead fact about the group's miscellaneous activities. There are two things very clear to them now: one, Massu has the alcohol tolerance of a teaspoon, and two, NEWS is incapable of defending themselves against his charm. Or something. Yoko swears him to secrecy after the Koyama daydream because not only is it really weird for one to think about colleagues in varying sexually charged situations, it's even weirder to think about it with a friend when neither are benefiting from the arrangement in any way. Yoko's fairly consistent whimpering about how this is just wrong and embarrassing and against the colleague code in every way gets on Junno's nerves a little bit, but despite that, Yoko never actually tries to curtail their shared visions, so really, he's just all talk. Junno doesn't know why Yoko's so high-strung about it anyway -- he sees it as free porn without running up an electric bill.
(Yoko snorts in almost-derision. "You're so practical."
Junno grins. "Being practical would mean we get off on it. We're just dreamers!"
Yoko kicks him out of the apartment.)
Careful not to wake Yoko, Junno picks up the trash as best he can and gathers his things and leaves, sticking a thanks-for-having-me-over note on Yoko's fridge. He heads to the agency to work on his new solo after a quick stop at his apartment, a healthy dose of coffee and some ibuprofen to beat the remainder of his headache. The staff are already there when he arrives and he dives right into his work, trying to figure out the best bass line and leaving vocals for later when he's feeling more human.
During their lunch break, Junno orders take-out from the closest tonkatsu shop and as he's hovering around the vending machines near the lobby, deciding on a drink, the doors open and none other than Massu walks in. When he says hi, Junno does a double-take and blanches -- it's hard to think of something to say when all he's really seen of Massu in the past few months have been in the rather imaginative recesses of his mind, and the only thing he really cares to know is if he's as good a kisser as he likes to think he is. In fact, he's so caught up with his own thoughts that he doesn't realize Massu has been talking to him for quite a little bit by the time Junno snaps out of it.
"Are you feeling okay?" Massu is asking.
Junno shakes his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just had a late night with Yoko and an early morning."
"Ah, understood. Hey, maybe next time we could all grab a drink together! It's like I always see you around but we never actually hang out together for some reason," he suggests, lighting up at the idea like he's the light bulb himself. "Besides, I really like you and Yokoyama-kun."
Junno perks up at that. "Really?"
Massu laughs. "Yeah, of course! Both of you are so funny and cool, and I think it'd be fun! Unless you don't want to...?"
The slight dejection at the end of the sentence makes Junno feel like he revealed his complex plan to steal candy from every child he comes across, and even though he knows that this is all a trap, his eyes zone in on the frown on the other's lips and feels his resistance crumbling around him.
"No, no, nothing like that, I'm sure Yoko would love to come! I mean," Junno catches himself. "Have dinner. I'll ask him and we can figure something out, I'm sure."
"Awesome! I'll be waiting for your mail, then!" Massu beams.
Junno responds with a pseudo-smile of his own, even though he's sure this is a very horrible, terrible, no good idea. "It's a date! Or something. Uh, I have to go now, but I'll see you later!"
He turns to walk away, but Massu stops him. "Wait, aren't you forgetting something?"
Junno whirls around in confusion. Massu points at the vending machine. "Weren't you getting a drink? Your money's still in here."
"Oh, so it is! Thanks." Junno nearly plasters himself against the vending machine as Massu walks by, waving goodbye. Once he's safely out of sight, Junno lets out a breath, slumping in defeat.
Yoko is going to kill him.
Around the corner, Massu is humming happily to himself, typing out a message on his phone and hitting send.
Cross Yokoyama and Taguchi off.
Nakamaru groans in defeat, mentally crossing out two more names from the list.
Quite frankly, when they made their bet to see who would become more memorable, Nakamaru was thinking something along the lines of organizing agency-wide get-togethers or trips to Tokyo Disney. But now, he can barely believe just how behind he is, let alone how dirty Massu is playing.
Mostly, though, his dejection comes from the thought that he could have gotten to Yoko first, shared bond in modesty and all.
Nakamaru sighs. Coffee and caramel roll cake would have been so nice.
------------------
* - line taken from Shakespeare's Sonnet 18.
** - Cingular was a cellular phone company under BellSouth that was acquired by AT&T in 2006. Back when they ran commercials under the Cingular brand, their slogan was, ahem, "raising the bar". Interpret as you will.
Rating: Hard R/NC-17?
Group/Pairing: Massu/NEWS (minus Tegoshi), other You&J members.
Warnings: Strange story formatting, stupid humor, AU-but-not-really.
Notes: I had so much fun with this once I actually could figure out a working formatting system and for that, I'm totally pleased with the outcome even if it's...weird. I believe it's easy to follow along but just in case, chunks of italics designate conversation occurring outside of the perceived reality in the first four sections. Vagueness of who is thinking what is done on purpose, but you find out towards the end. Lots of love to my beta for always being there whenever I needed to freak out, and I hope you enjoy this rather strange remix, ungalad!
Link to Original Story: On the Tequila
Link to Original Writer: ungalad @ dias_de_gloria
let's turn this room into a pirate ship
Yamashita kisses the same way he does everything else -- there is skill, a bit of passion, and a subtle taste of wanting to please, and Massu thinks he's doing a good job of it all. The mirrored wall of the dance studio is solid against his back, as is Yamashita's chest pressed against his front, his arm braced against the mirror next to his head; Massu looks up at him, resting his head against the mirror as his breath quickens, gasping at fingers drifting over his neck, sending sparks down his spine. He threads his fingers into Yamashita's hair, crushing their mouths together, a mish-mash of harsh breaths and tongue and need.
He hadn't expected Yamashita to be in the building, let alone booking the same practice room to go over choreography, but --
"Dance practice? That's what we're going with?"
"Have you ever seen Massu dance? It's practically sin."
"But it's not as interesting if we don't even get to see that part!"
"Jeez, fine, you pick then!"
"They're pirates, obviously."
"Pirates? Even we've used that theme..."
"I don't want to see you plundering someone's mouth, thanks."
The sea breeze rustles Yamashita's hair, the ocean spray cooling Massu's cheeks, and the wood of the ship under their feet creak and sway with the tide. Yamashita tugs on the ends of Massu's hair, tilting his head back further, breaking the kiss to nip at the expanse of neck now open to him. The ship's wheel digs into Massu's back and he groans, trying to shift a bit so he's, at least, a little more comfortable.
Yamashita chuckles, hardly audible over the billowing of the sails above them, then pulls away to look at his first mate. He reaches up to glide a thumb over Massu's plump lower lip, a small grin on his lips as he watches Massu swallow in anticipation. Yamashita's eyes, however, are full of promise, a promise of things to come later in the privacy of his quarters, as he's sure getting splinters would just kill the mood, and Massu nods in understanding, perhaps from experience. Yamashita pulls away completely and helps Massu straighten himself out, knowing just how much the other hates being unpresentable in the slightest.
Just as Massu's about to turn away and get back to his duties, Yamashita tugs him back and plops his hat back on him. "A bet's a bet. You have to wear the hat."
He laughs when Massu merely sighs in resignation.
"How vanilla of you."
"If I'm going to picture Yamapi having sex with anyone it's going to be with me okay?!"
you bet i'm available for circulation
Something tells Shige that when Melvil Dewey came up with his decimal library cataloguing system, he had visions of decades and decades of students, academics, and philosophers utilizing it for the greater good, to share information and better themselves, to obtain an education --
"And I thought pirates were weird..."
"Shut up, librarians are hot!"
"Oh yeah, turtlenecks and sweater-vests. So hot."
-- as he was thinking, he had a feeling that diligent students looking for the right book was the ideal in Dewey's mind, not, say, having the books covered up by the desperate frottage of two people looking for a private space in the heat of the moment.
Privacy the ancient economics stacks offered twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
"If you insist on this boring scenario, can they at least wear glasses?"
"When else would they wear glasses?"
"...okay, carry on."
Shige doesn't remember when they wound up on the floor, but he finds it hard to remember much at all when he has Massu in his lap, wriggling and panting into his ear. He's not even sure if this is legal, which is ironic, all things considered, but all he wants right now is to bite down onto Massu's neck, so he does. Hearing the keen of pleasure from Massu's throat sends a surge of lust through Shige, fingers flying to the other's pants, undoing the belt as fast as his clumsy fingers will allow, then shoving them down past Massu's hips and out of the way as soon as he can as Massu returns the favor. They both sigh in relief when skin meets skin amidst the jangle of belt buckles, and they start to slide together in tandem, hips bucking against each other's, hips moving in ways Shige has never even attempted before since he'd probably hurt himself.
Massu, on the other hand, seems to be a natural, keeping a hand wrapped around them both, stroking in rhythm. He opens his eyes in the midst of it all, studying Shige like he's the food science textbook he feigned needing, and this one look, of all things, makes Shige blush even harder.
"What?" Shige murmurs.
Massu smiles behind askew, black plastic frames, and both their movements slow down to a gentle rocking. "You're just really, really cute."
Shige merely stares at him at a loss for what to say, and Massu laughs, leans forward, and kisses him.
"Awwww, this is like a reverse romantic comedy! Do they date later? Is it true love?"
"Did you have to mention true love? Ugh, the mood's totally gone..."
"Oh...sorry."
thou art more lovely and more temperate*
It always hits him when he least expects it.
It starts in the pit of his stomach, like a weird sea creature trying to worm its way out of his body. It then crawls up his spine to about halfway, then warms his ribs and lungs, then swoops up his neck, into his cheeks, then pools in the heart, and the next thing he knows, he's asking Massu -- reliable, calming, unquestioning and manly man-of-his-affections Massu -- to stay over for the night.
The smile he gets does him in, really.
He doesn't plan on having sex, either, for what it's worth -- he would have been perfectly fine with cuddling since they both are tired from work and have interviews with magazines early the next morning, but the worst thing about hanging out with Massu is that the other tends to be exceedingly attractive when he's not trying to be. Ryo had laid down on the couch, putting his head on Massu's lap as they watched some drama rerun, and Massu started to comb his fingers through his hair. Ryo unwittingly purred; Massu laughed.
"I guess you like that."
"I like a lot of things," Ryo mutters, hoping that the 'including you' goes without saying.
Massu runs his fingers through his hair again.
Kissing Massu comes naturally, as does undressing him, breaking through the heavy air between them to pin him down to the couch, marking his neck with his lips. He's having a hard time believing this is happening because Massu is...Massu. He's weird and indecisive and not at all his type, and if someone had told him a week ago that he would be doing this with Massu, he probably would have suggested the person go see a psychologist because the likelihood was slim to none, feelings be damned. But now, it's all he wants to do, and the thought that Massu is the only person he wants to do plants itself firmly in his mind.
As it stands now, he's having a hard time keeping himself in check -- all he really wants is to simply have his way with the panting man underneath him, but he realizes that this, this shouldn't just be about him. It should be about Massu, too, and what makes him feel special, what makes him feel good and what doesn't and goddamn is Ryo going to try and avoid those things at all costs.
Ryo just wants it to actually mean something, for once in his life, and the thought alone makes him a little dizzy.
"Ryo?" Massu ventures.
He looks down at him. Massu's clothes are disheveled, his hair mussed and tangled, lips slightly parted with an angry red mark on his neck that must have been from when Ryo tried to suck his pulse out of his skin. He looks so unlike anything Ryo has ever seen, and now...now Ryo knows that he's utterly screwed, but he may as well enjoy the fall.
"Not here. Bedroom," Ryo mumbles --
"Wait, this isn't following our theme of alternate realities!"
"Nishikido-kun being nice isn't enough of an alternate reality?"
"Ryo is nice sometimes..."
"Okay, Nishikido-kun and Massu having sex isn't enough of an alternate reality?"
"...touché."
are you sure you don't work for cingular?**
Koyama knows that his talents are few and far between. It's not to look down on himself, but he's quite aware of the fact that he is and will always be bad at certain things. There's a reason why he's always on tambourine duty when he and his friends go karaoke, and as for dancing, he's only as good as the next song with a decent beat. He's relatively smart, but consistently air-headed. In a lot of ways, Koyama is incredibly average.
But what he is exceptionally good at is talking to people and, subsequently, making them happy. For whatever reason, he always knows just what to say to brighten someone's day or to make someone feel better, and he thinks it's because he also happens to be really good at reading atmospheres and the people he's with. Plainly put, Koyama is a people person. Communication is no problem to him, and so he thinks it should be an important component in every relationship that he has.
However, the economy doesn't look too nicely on people who can only list, "natural conversationalist," on a resume, and it's hard out there to find anything decent to do in this day and age.
So naturally, he opts for something slightly less decent.
Granted, his line at the sex hotline isn't always --
"Are we about to daydream about phone sex right now?"
"...yes?"
"Ew."
"I bet you've never even tried it."
"Why would I want to try phone sex? I have a girlfriend, I can get the real thing."
"..."
"..."
"...that was low."
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I can make it up to you -- "
"You have five seconds to stop spooning me."
-- ringing off the hook, but he has a few dedicated callers that he's grown fond of over the past few months. On the phone now is a man by the name of Massu, though in more intimate conversation, Koyama tends to go with Taka. More personal and all.
At this moment, he's describing in great, crystal clear detail just where he'd like Taka to stick that thick, hard member --
"Heh. Member-ai all right."
-- member cock and by the sound of the man on the other end, he would really like to follow through with that. Koyama laughs, rich and throaty, closing his eyes and letting himself think about what the other man looks like. Given how youthful he sounds, he thinks he's in his twenties, probably mid. He knows he's a swimmer, and swimmers have the best bodies, all firm and toned and solid, unlike all the lanky company Koyama tends to get. No, this one sounds like he knows what he's doing, and Koyama can only imagine how he must feel inside him --
"Are we imagining Koyama imagining things?"
"Isn't that really the basis of phone sex?"
"Too many layers of imagining..."
-- but why imagine all these things when Koyama could simply experience it firsthand? He waits until Taka's breathing has calmed, returning slightly to normal after his (undoubtedly amazing) orgasm, and then goes for the gold and asks him if he'd like to meet up in person some time.
"Okay, first you make fun of me for not liking phone sex, and now we're imagining our imaginary Koyama ditching imaginary phone sex and getting imaginary real sex?"
"When you put it like that, it's all very confusing..."
"I'm just going to bed."
richly crafted but crafted nonetheless
Junno rubs at his eyes as he wakes up from a restless night, his hand going up to his hair to fuss with it, trying to make it more presentable but failing miserably. Yoko is equally unkempt but at least he's still asleep and has the luxury of sleeping some more, having the morning off. Junno literally rolls off the couch, steps around the snacks and beer cans littering the floor, and trudges to the fridge and pours himself a glass of water. He drinks it down in a few gulps, feeling the impending headache ebbing slowly, though not quick enough.
Really, this was all Massu's fault.
When Junno and Yoko walked into a bar a few weeks ago, they saw Tegoshi and Massu there, all cozy and chatting amongst themselves at the bar. It started off innocent -- they greeted the harmonic duo, ordered a few drinks as they made small talk, then claimed a table a little ways away. They liked each other all right, sure, but when Yoko and Junno had finally managed to make their schedules work after both of them having their own respective tours and television appearances, they weren't looking to share their time. It was all part of Yoko's best friend code, something Junno wasn't even aware existed, but it sounded awesome and cool and exclusive and cool.
But when Yoko came back from his turn at the bar, he looked disturbed. Junno peered at him curiously, taking the beer from him as Yoko began to talk in quick, hushed tones, something about how Massu was drunk -- drunk Massu!!! -- and letting all of his secrets go willy-nilly and he apparently made out with Yamapi, oh my god, and Yoko really wasn't jealous. At all. In the slightest.
Junno had just given him a knowing look and Yoko spent the rest of the night whining about how unfair his life was.
Of course, the topic at hand kept coming up, and it all came crashing around them when Junno let out a small, stray thought that he blames completely on the beer.
"But Yamapi and Massu's lips were practically made for kissing, so it might as well be with each other."
Yoko stared at him like he was crazy and, worse yet, a traitor to his cause.
The thoughts, though, kept coming back, because what he said he sincerely believed in. Laying on the floor of Yoko's apartment that night, he opened his mouth again, much to Yoko's chagrin.
"Wouldn't it be hot seeing Yamapi and Massu making out?"
The rest is now a piece of embarrassing history, much like Arashi's debut see-through jumpsuits.
As luck (or misfortune) would have it, the next couple of times they go out, they run into Tegoshi and Massu at the exact same place, and each time they walk away with some new overhead fact about the group's miscellaneous activities. There are two things very clear to them now: one, Massu has the alcohol tolerance of a teaspoon, and two, NEWS is incapable of defending themselves against his charm. Or something. Yoko swears him to secrecy after the Koyama daydream because not only is it really weird for one to think about colleagues in varying sexually charged situations, it's even weirder to think about it with a friend when neither are benefiting from the arrangement in any way. Yoko's fairly consistent whimpering about how this is just wrong and embarrassing and against the colleague code in every way gets on Junno's nerves a little bit, but despite that, Yoko never actually tries to curtail their shared visions, so really, he's just all talk. Junno doesn't know why Yoko's so high-strung about it anyway -- he sees it as free porn without running up an electric bill.
(Yoko snorts in almost-derision. "You're so practical."
Junno grins. "Being practical would mean we get off on it. We're just dreamers!"
Yoko kicks him out of the apartment.)
Careful not to wake Yoko, Junno picks up the trash as best he can and gathers his things and leaves, sticking a thanks-for-having-me-over note on Yoko's fridge. He heads to the agency to work on his new solo after a quick stop at his apartment, a healthy dose of coffee and some ibuprofen to beat the remainder of his headache. The staff are already there when he arrives and he dives right into his work, trying to figure out the best bass line and leaving vocals for later when he's feeling more human.
During their lunch break, Junno orders take-out from the closest tonkatsu shop and as he's hovering around the vending machines near the lobby, deciding on a drink, the doors open and none other than Massu walks in. When he says hi, Junno does a double-take and blanches -- it's hard to think of something to say when all he's really seen of Massu in the past few months have been in the rather imaginative recesses of his mind, and the only thing he really cares to know is if he's as good a kisser as he likes to think he is. In fact, he's so caught up with his own thoughts that he doesn't realize Massu has been talking to him for quite a little bit by the time Junno snaps out of it.
"Are you feeling okay?" Massu is asking.
Junno shakes his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just had a late night with Yoko and an early morning."
"Ah, understood. Hey, maybe next time we could all grab a drink together! It's like I always see you around but we never actually hang out together for some reason," he suggests, lighting up at the idea like he's the light bulb himself. "Besides, I really like you and Yokoyama-kun."
Junno perks up at that. "Really?"
Massu laughs. "Yeah, of course! Both of you are so funny and cool, and I think it'd be fun! Unless you don't want to...?"
The slight dejection at the end of the sentence makes Junno feel like he revealed his complex plan to steal candy from every child he comes across, and even though he knows that this is all a trap, his eyes zone in on the frown on the other's lips and feels his resistance crumbling around him.
"No, no, nothing like that, I'm sure Yoko would love to come! I mean," Junno catches himself. "Have dinner. I'll ask him and we can figure something out, I'm sure."
"Awesome! I'll be waiting for your mail, then!" Massu beams.
Junno responds with a pseudo-smile of his own, even though he's sure this is a very horrible, terrible, no good idea. "It's a date! Or something. Uh, I have to go now, but I'll see you later!"
He turns to walk away, but Massu stops him. "Wait, aren't you forgetting something?"
Junno whirls around in confusion. Massu points at the vending machine. "Weren't you getting a drink? Your money's still in here."
"Oh, so it is! Thanks." Junno nearly plasters himself against the vending machine as Massu walks by, waving goodbye. Once he's safely out of sight, Junno lets out a breath, slumping in defeat.
Yoko is going to kill him.
Around the corner, Massu is humming happily to himself, typing out a message on his phone and hitting send.
Cross Yokoyama and Taguchi off.
Nakamaru groans in defeat, mentally crossing out two more names from the list.
Quite frankly, when they made their bet to see who would become more memorable, Nakamaru was thinking something along the lines of organizing agency-wide get-togethers or trips to Tokyo Disney. But now, he can barely believe just how behind he is, let alone how dirty Massu is playing.
Mostly, though, his dejection comes from the thought that he could have gotten to Yoko first, shared bond in modesty and all.
Nakamaru sighs. Coffee and caramel roll cake would have been so nice.
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* - line taken from Shakespeare's Sonnet 18.
** - Cingular was a cellular phone company under BellSouth that was acquired by AT&T in 2006. Back when they ran commercials under the Cingular brand, their slogan was, ahem, "raising the bar". Interpret as you will.