Someone - PG [Tegomass]
Someone
tinyangl, 2074 words
Tegoshi/Massu, Massu doesn't understand what Tegoshi's worried about.
A/N: Written for cynicalism's wish list. You know how I feel, dear. No words needed.
2. Massu/Tegoshi. Carelessly growing up and growing old.
Massu didn't know how he had blinked and suddenly, time had passed without his realization. It had been how long since he debuted? Five years? Six? He'd entered Johnny's how long ago? Ten, eleven years? He supposed this was what happens when you throw yourself into your work.
He realized a bit later that, in reality, work was all he was. All he had.
--
"It's not all you are," Tegoshi insisted when Massu had confessed those thoughts one night.
Downing a shot glass of whatever concoction sat in front of him, Massu could only hiccup. "You would say something like that, Tegoshi." He pushed away the glass before tucking his head underneath his arms. He let out a heavy sigh before he felt Tegoshi rest his hand on Massu's head. It felt heavy, worried, uncertain, powerless - how could one hand even be able to feel? - and Massu didn't like it. "Tegoshi," he said warningly, except his voice broke in the middle of it.
"Massu," Tegoshi said in response, sounding faint and far-away. His hand never lifted. Instead, he started to stroke Massu's hair, tangling his fingers inside of Massu's silky dark brown locks. "You're worth so much more, Massu."
"Hmm," Massu murmured unconvinced. But even though he didn't want Tegoshi's sympathy and pity, he didn't move. His eyes lidded as he sunk into the feeling of Tegoshi's fingers brushing against his scalp. It was more comforting to him than paying attention to the haze in his brain from all the alcohol.
"You are worth something to someone," Tegoshi whispered.
Massu could barely hear him in between the buzzing in his ears. But even if he didn't, Massu could feel all the intentions in Tegoshi's hand.
--
"You haven't been smiling," Tegoshi told him as they leant back against the wall in their practice room. Massu patted down the sweat on his forehead with a towel, panting for breath as he tried to keep his attention on the four who were standing a bit of a distance in front of them - focused on learning the steps for their newest routine.
"Yes, I have," Massu returned, turning to give Tegoshi the brightest smile he could muster up.
Tegoshi's eyes only saddened, and Massu inwardly cursed Tegoshi's ability to read him so well. His hand reached out to touch the corners of Massu's lips. "Stop pretending you're okay."
Massu jerked out of Tegoshi's reach. "I'm not pretending."
"But you seem it."
"Tegoshi," Massu sighed, trying to stop himself from sounding stern. He wasn't used to being reprimanding with anyone, much less Tegoshi. "What I said that one night was nothing. It's just something that I think of sometimes. And I appreciate the concern, but really I'm okay." Massu gave another smile, putting his all into it this time. While Tegoshi only looked marginally convinced, Massu would take what he could get. He moved forward, wrapping his towel around his neck.
There was a sigh and then "Someone cares, you know," Tegoshi murmured behind him.
Massu refused to show that he heard the words and instead gave the others a smile as he started to show them the moves they were having the most trouble with. He could feel Tegoshi join them a bit later, but he ignored the return of the worried gaze the younger boy was throwing in his direction.
It really hadn't been anything to worry about, Massu thought. But now he was starting to worry.
--
Massu didn't want to go to dinner that night, except Tegoshi had really honed his "I can convince Massu" skills. To the point that Massu just couldn't refuse, didn't know how to. He threw on another smile, lied to Tegoshi that he'd called his mom already, and hid the overwhelming dread of spending even more hours with Tegoshi.
He was really starting to regret that he'd told Tegoshi anything.
Thankfully, conversation was normal. There was no sign of Tegoshi approaching the subject again, which Massu was overwhelmingly grateful towards. Maybe Tegoshi had taken something from their conversation after all.
"Koyama's been asking me if you're okay," Tegoshi said suddenly while Massu had his mouth full with a bite of chocolate cake. He choked on his food for a second before swallowing with a wince.
"What are you talking about?" Massu asked, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.
Tegoshi shrugged. "I think they've noticed you haven't been in the best of spirits. And they're worried."
Massu crumpled up the napkin in his hand. There was a strange fury going through his stomach as he listened to Tegoshi's words. "I told you it was nothing to worry about," Massu said, trying to keep himself from breaking. "Why are you still on this?"
"Because you haven't accepted it at all!" Tegoshi frowned. "You're just brushing it aside like it's nothing, but it is something, Massu."
Massu sat forward, holding his head in his hands. "Tegoshi, I get the concern. And I really am so glad for it. From you and the others, but really, there's nothing wrong." He said the last line with conviction, hoping that Tegoshi would get the message.
Tegoshi only nodded faintly before leaning forward. "It's just... Someone thinks of you, okay? That's all it is," Tegoshi said reassuringly.
Massu thought he was really starting to hate the word "someone."
--
Massu took the next day of work off, feigning a horrible, contagious illness. Everyone knew better; even Massu knew just how fake his own excuse was. But, with everything spinning in his head, Massu couldn't stand the idea of going into work. Not when he had to deal with Tegoshi's obsessive need to make something that wasn't wrong, right.
So he just boarded a train and went off somewhere - all Massu knew was that he needed fresh air and some space. Something, anything. He needed to be himself, by himself.
There was something so mystical about watching the scenery slowly change from the metropolitan area that was Tokyo transform itself into the outskirts of Japan. The kind of area that most of Japan was - farm land, and grass so green that nothing in the same color could compare. The sight of people earnestly working to make their living doing something as simple - a word Massu used loosely - as digging a hole in the ground.
Massu watched those people with the most interest - the old ladies carrying around baskets filled with fruits or vegetables. Or men hacking away at the ground for some odd reason. Or the people fanning themselves as they manned some kind of stand. They all worked so hard for their lifestyles.
Massu understood that feeling well. It was something so familiar to him that just thinking on it, Massu could remember vividly being on stage and performing - ignoring all the heavy clothes they piled on him, or the bright lights shining directly in his eyes, or the fact that he thought he'd messed up a step back there.
None of it mattered when he was performing.
It worried Massu that he thought so heavily on work like this. That he was so deep into it that he couldn't think of ever having a life outside of this, that he would be utterly useless if they took this one thing away from him.
The train doors opened and the conductor called out the name of a familiar stop. Massu only snorted at his luck before rushing out the doors before they closed. Then he stood at the platform for a few minutes as he watched the train slowly make its way out of the station. Now that he was there, Massu wasn't sure what he could do except move.
His feet remembered the way better than his brain did - which was thankful because Massu's head was so filled with his own thoughts that he wasn't sure he could even navigate. All those thoughts came to a halt though when he reached the house he was searching for, unconsciously it seemed. His hand moved before he realized what was going on and the sight of Tegoshi at the door only made Massu swallow.
Tegoshi took one look at him before yelling inside the house, "Okaa-san, I'm going to head down to the park."
Massu could hear his mom replying back and telling him to be careful as he watched Tegoshi throw on some sandals sitting by the side of the stairs. "Let's go," Tegoshi muttered, grabbing onto Massu's wrist and tugging him away from the house.
--
"Why did you come?" Tegoshi asked, sitting on a swing and pushing off the ground lightly. Massu watched from a fence in front of him, his hands tracing figureless shapes beside him on the cracked wood. The whole park was empty, but Massu figured it made sense - seeing as how he was there in the middle of the day. School hadn't let out quite yet so they had the place to themselves.
"It wasn't intentional," Massu answered, watching as Tegoshi started to push harder on the swing. His knees bent as he came back, then he lifted them straight in front of him as the swing swung forward.
"Are you going to talk about it?" There was something about watching him swing - the sight of seeing him rise higher off the ground, farther and farther from his reach.
"Nothing to talk about."
"Why aren't you at work?" Massu asked instead, changing the subject.
"Cancelled. You weren't the only one who was..." Tegoshi paused. "Ill."
Massu made a noise of acknowledgment, his eyes still entranced by the sight of Tegoshi's swing going back and forth.
He started to slow down, kicking his feet on the ground to stop the swing. "Someone worries about you."
It took a blink of an eye before Massu realized he was hovering over Tegoshi, his hands gripping the chains of the swing. Tegoshi looked a combination of worried and confused. "Who's someone, Tegoshi?" Massu asked, his heart squeezing. "You keep saying someone, but who is this person?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Tegoshi said softly, his gaze meeting Massu's straight on. There was no wavering, no uncertainty; there never was when it came to Tegoshi.
Massu stared at Tegoshi. "Then just say it."
"Me, Tegoshi. I care. I think of you. I worry about you," Tegoshi said clearly. "You make it hard for me not to."
"I'm fine," Massu insisted, for what felt like the thousandth time. "You're making a big deal out of something that's barely the size of a pea."
Tegoshi reached out, his hands firmly on the sides of Massu's face. "If you don't let out your worries, it'll engulf you. You're that kind of person, Massu. You think so hard on one thing and it'll worry you for forever until you let it go. And for some reason, you're not letting this one go."
Massu's hands moved to cover over Tegoshi's and his head dropped, leaning his forehead against the one in front of him. "I have let it go. I've accepted it. I don't think you accept it, Tegoshi. You can do so much more so you can't understand."
"I don't believe you!" Tegoshi insisted. "You can do as much as I can!"
"I'm not going to college, Tegoshi. I'm not the one who's getting a degree. I'm just working - working hard at what I do, of course - and I know that, right now, it's all I have."
Tegoshi stared at Massu and for a split second there, Massu wondered if Tegoshi was going to cry. But the younger boy bit his lower lip and Massu could feel him shaking underneath him. Massu wrapped his arms around Tegoshi. "It's not nothing, Tegoshi. Work to me is everything I have, and I'm okay with that."
"But we can lose it so easily," Tegoshi mumbled. "It's not certain."
"Nothing in life ever is."
"So how-" Tegoshi started before his voice broke and he couldn't even finish his own question.
"By working hard and knowing you've done all you can."
Tegoshi sighed loudly into Massu's shoulder. "I wish I was optimistic."
Massu pulled back, smiling. "It's what I'm good at, isn't it? Being the optimistic in the group."
Tegoshi laughed, a light one, but it was a start. He sighed before pulling away from Massu's arms. "Want to eat lunch at my place? I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind setting another plate."
At that moment, Massu's stomach growled. "That was just good timing," Massu laughed along with Tegoshi before nodding.
--
It wasn't the first time they had had this conversation, and it wouldn't be the last. But it was just the kind of reminder Massu needed.
He walked into work the next day with a smile.
tinyangl, 2074 words
Tegoshi/Massu, Massu doesn't understand what Tegoshi's worried about.
A/N: Written for cynicalism's wish list. You know how I feel, dear. No words needed.
2. Massu/Tegoshi. Carelessly growing up and growing old.
Massu didn't know how he had blinked and suddenly, time had passed without his realization. It had been how long since he debuted? Five years? Six? He'd entered Johnny's how long ago? Ten, eleven years? He supposed this was what happens when you throw yourself into your work.
He realized a bit later that, in reality, work was all he was. All he had.
--
"It's not all you are," Tegoshi insisted when Massu had confessed those thoughts one night.
Downing a shot glass of whatever concoction sat in front of him, Massu could only hiccup. "You would say something like that, Tegoshi." He pushed away the glass before tucking his head underneath his arms. He let out a heavy sigh before he felt Tegoshi rest his hand on Massu's head. It felt heavy, worried, uncertain, powerless - how could one hand even be able to feel? - and Massu didn't like it. "Tegoshi," he said warningly, except his voice broke in the middle of it.
"Massu," Tegoshi said in response, sounding faint and far-away. His hand never lifted. Instead, he started to stroke Massu's hair, tangling his fingers inside of Massu's silky dark brown locks. "You're worth so much more, Massu."
"Hmm," Massu murmured unconvinced. But even though he didn't want Tegoshi's sympathy and pity, he didn't move. His eyes lidded as he sunk into the feeling of Tegoshi's fingers brushing against his scalp. It was more comforting to him than paying attention to the haze in his brain from all the alcohol.
"You are worth something to someone," Tegoshi whispered.
Massu could barely hear him in between the buzzing in his ears. But even if he didn't, Massu could feel all the intentions in Tegoshi's hand.
--
"You haven't been smiling," Tegoshi told him as they leant back against the wall in their practice room. Massu patted down the sweat on his forehead with a towel, panting for breath as he tried to keep his attention on the four who were standing a bit of a distance in front of them - focused on learning the steps for their newest routine.
"Yes, I have," Massu returned, turning to give Tegoshi the brightest smile he could muster up.
Tegoshi's eyes only saddened, and Massu inwardly cursed Tegoshi's ability to read him so well. His hand reached out to touch the corners of Massu's lips. "Stop pretending you're okay."
Massu jerked out of Tegoshi's reach. "I'm not pretending."
"But you seem it."
"Tegoshi," Massu sighed, trying to stop himself from sounding stern. He wasn't used to being reprimanding with anyone, much less Tegoshi. "What I said that one night was nothing. It's just something that I think of sometimes. And I appreciate the concern, but really I'm okay." Massu gave another smile, putting his all into it this time. While Tegoshi only looked marginally convinced, Massu would take what he could get. He moved forward, wrapping his towel around his neck.
There was a sigh and then "Someone cares, you know," Tegoshi murmured behind him.
Massu refused to show that he heard the words and instead gave the others a smile as he started to show them the moves they were having the most trouble with. He could feel Tegoshi join them a bit later, but he ignored the return of the worried gaze the younger boy was throwing in his direction.
It really hadn't been anything to worry about, Massu thought. But now he was starting to worry.
--
Massu didn't want to go to dinner that night, except Tegoshi had really honed his "I can convince Massu" skills. To the point that Massu just couldn't refuse, didn't know how to. He threw on another smile, lied to Tegoshi that he'd called his mom already, and hid the overwhelming dread of spending even more hours with Tegoshi.
He was really starting to regret that he'd told Tegoshi anything.
Thankfully, conversation was normal. There was no sign of Tegoshi approaching the subject again, which Massu was overwhelmingly grateful towards. Maybe Tegoshi had taken something from their conversation after all.
"Koyama's been asking me if you're okay," Tegoshi said suddenly while Massu had his mouth full with a bite of chocolate cake. He choked on his food for a second before swallowing with a wince.
"What are you talking about?" Massu asked, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin.
Tegoshi shrugged. "I think they've noticed you haven't been in the best of spirits. And they're worried."
Massu crumpled up the napkin in his hand. There was a strange fury going through his stomach as he listened to Tegoshi's words. "I told you it was nothing to worry about," Massu said, trying to keep himself from breaking. "Why are you still on this?"
"Because you haven't accepted it at all!" Tegoshi frowned. "You're just brushing it aside like it's nothing, but it is something, Massu."
Massu sat forward, holding his head in his hands. "Tegoshi, I get the concern. And I really am so glad for it. From you and the others, but really, there's nothing wrong." He said the last line with conviction, hoping that Tegoshi would get the message.
Tegoshi only nodded faintly before leaning forward. "It's just... Someone thinks of you, okay? That's all it is," Tegoshi said reassuringly.
Massu thought he was really starting to hate the word "someone."
--
Massu took the next day of work off, feigning a horrible, contagious illness. Everyone knew better; even Massu knew just how fake his own excuse was. But, with everything spinning in his head, Massu couldn't stand the idea of going into work. Not when he had to deal with Tegoshi's obsessive need to make something that wasn't wrong, right.
So he just boarded a train and went off somewhere - all Massu knew was that he needed fresh air and some space. Something, anything. He needed to be himself, by himself.
There was something so mystical about watching the scenery slowly change from the metropolitan area that was Tokyo transform itself into the outskirts of Japan. The kind of area that most of Japan was - farm land, and grass so green that nothing in the same color could compare. The sight of people earnestly working to make their living doing something as simple - a word Massu used loosely - as digging a hole in the ground.
Massu watched those people with the most interest - the old ladies carrying around baskets filled with fruits or vegetables. Or men hacking away at the ground for some odd reason. Or the people fanning themselves as they manned some kind of stand. They all worked so hard for their lifestyles.
Massu understood that feeling well. It was something so familiar to him that just thinking on it, Massu could remember vividly being on stage and performing - ignoring all the heavy clothes they piled on him, or the bright lights shining directly in his eyes, or the fact that he thought he'd messed up a step back there.
None of it mattered when he was performing.
It worried Massu that he thought so heavily on work like this. That he was so deep into it that he couldn't think of ever having a life outside of this, that he would be utterly useless if they took this one thing away from him.
The train doors opened and the conductor called out the name of a familiar stop. Massu only snorted at his luck before rushing out the doors before they closed. Then he stood at the platform for a few minutes as he watched the train slowly make its way out of the station. Now that he was there, Massu wasn't sure what he could do except move.
His feet remembered the way better than his brain did - which was thankful because Massu's head was so filled with his own thoughts that he wasn't sure he could even navigate. All those thoughts came to a halt though when he reached the house he was searching for, unconsciously it seemed. His hand moved before he realized what was going on and the sight of Tegoshi at the door only made Massu swallow.
Tegoshi took one look at him before yelling inside the house, "Okaa-san, I'm going to head down to the park."
Massu could hear his mom replying back and telling him to be careful as he watched Tegoshi throw on some sandals sitting by the side of the stairs. "Let's go," Tegoshi muttered, grabbing onto Massu's wrist and tugging him away from the house.
--
"Why did you come?" Tegoshi asked, sitting on a swing and pushing off the ground lightly. Massu watched from a fence in front of him, his hands tracing figureless shapes beside him on the cracked wood. The whole park was empty, but Massu figured it made sense - seeing as how he was there in the middle of the day. School hadn't let out quite yet so they had the place to themselves.
"It wasn't intentional," Massu answered, watching as Tegoshi started to push harder on the swing. His knees bent as he came back, then he lifted them straight in front of him as the swing swung forward.
"Are you going to talk about it?" There was something about watching him swing - the sight of seeing him rise higher off the ground, farther and farther from his reach.
"Nothing to talk about."
"Why aren't you at work?" Massu asked instead, changing the subject.
"Cancelled. You weren't the only one who was..." Tegoshi paused. "Ill."
Massu made a noise of acknowledgment, his eyes still entranced by the sight of Tegoshi's swing going back and forth.
He started to slow down, kicking his feet on the ground to stop the swing. "Someone worries about you."
It took a blink of an eye before Massu realized he was hovering over Tegoshi, his hands gripping the chains of the swing. Tegoshi looked a combination of worried and confused. "Who's someone, Tegoshi?" Massu asked, his heart squeezing. "You keep saying someone, but who is this person?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Tegoshi said softly, his gaze meeting Massu's straight on. There was no wavering, no uncertainty; there never was when it came to Tegoshi.
Massu stared at Tegoshi. "Then just say it."
"Me, Tegoshi. I care. I think of you. I worry about you," Tegoshi said clearly. "You make it hard for me not to."
"I'm fine," Massu insisted, for what felt like the thousandth time. "You're making a big deal out of something that's barely the size of a pea."
Tegoshi reached out, his hands firmly on the sides of Massu's face. "If you don't let out your worries, it'll engulf you. You're that kind of person, Massu. You think so hard on one thing and it'll worry you for forever until you let it go. And for some reason, you're not letting this one go."
Massu's hands moved to cover over Tegoshi's and his head dropped, leaning his forehead against the one in front of him. "I have let it go. I've accepted it. I don't think you accept it, Tegoshi. You can do so much more so you can't understand."
"I don't believe you!" Tegoshi insisted. "You can do as much as I can!"
"I'm not going to college, Tegoshi. I'm not the one who's getting a degree. I'm just working - working hard at what I do, of course - and I know that, right now, it's all I have."
Tegoshi stared at Massu and for a split second there, Massu wondered if Tegoshi was going to cry. But the younger boy bit his lower lip and Massu could feel him shaking underneath him. Massu wrapped his arms around Tegoshi. "It's not nothing, Tegoshi. Work to me is everything I have, and I'm okay with that."
"But we can lose it so easily," Tegoshi mumbled. "It's not certain."
"Nothing in life ever is."
"So how-" Tegoshi started before his voice broke and he couldn't even finish his own question.
"By working hard and knowing you've done all you can."
Tegoshi sighed loudly into Massu's shoulder. "I wish I was optimistic."
Massu pulled back, smiling. "It's what I'm good at, isn't it? Being the optimistic in the group."
Tegoshi laughed, a light one, but it was a start. He sighed before pulling away from Massu's arms. "Want to eat lunch at my place? I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind setting another plate."
At that moment, Massu's stomach growled. "That was just good timing," Massu laughed along with Tegoshi before nodding.
--
It wasn't the first time they had had this conversation, and it wouldn't be the last. But it was just the kind of reminder Massu needed.
He walked into work the next day with a smile.