It Had to be You-Chapter Five
“I like you…more than a friend, Yuto.”
He freezes, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. “W-what?” There’s a tremble in his voice, making the question sound thready and uncertain. “What?”
Ryosuke looks stricken, even more so than Yuto himself. He presses a hand to his own mouth, his eyes flickering involuntarily as he proceeds to stand up, his face turning as red as the streaks of color across the sky during dawn. “I…” he manages, stumbling towards the door. “I didn’t mean…” Tears threaten in his eyes, a filmy sheen of wetness that makes Yuto’s heart reach out.
“Wait, Ryosuke.”
The other boy halts, unsure, lost.
Drawing in a breath, Yuto gets up slowly, raising his gaze unblinkingly to Ryosuke’s. Wordlessly, he steps forward, causing the older boy’s breath to catch in his throat.
And to the surprise of the other, Yuto reaches out, bringing his arms around Ryosuke’s figure and pulling him close. It takes a moment, a long, endless, tense moment, before Yuto feels a response, a pair of arms wrapping themselves around him.
A smile spreads across his features gently, as slow and sweet as warm honey and milk on a cold winter day. He lets Ryosuke bury his face into the collar of his jacket, and he leans down to breathe into the older boy’s ear, “I like you, too. A lot.”
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Searing pain shoots through Kazuya’s head as he stumbles into the studio, collapsing with a silent groan onto their old, worn couch. It creaks loudly under his sudden weight as he fingers a design on the soft cushion, pieces of thread poking out from the sewing and creating gaps in the image.
None of the rest of the band seems to notice him, each immersed in his own routine of waking up fully. They aren’t given much time, though, less time than enough, Kazuya thinks. The door opens with a loud slam, and Jin emerges, rubbing his head and closely trailed by their manager and choreographer.
Kazuya delicately avoids Jin’s gaze, turning on his bright, fake smile for the others.
It’s gotten easier as time passes.
---
“Yuuri, thanks.” Ryosuke beams with radiance, his hand clasped with Yuto’s hidden behind their backs as they both stand in front of Yamapi and Chinen. “Thank you, Yamapi-senpai.”
“No need, Yama-chan, Yuto-chan.” Yamapi offers them a weak smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. Dark circles ring underneath them, evidence of worry.
“Are you okay, Yamapi-san?”
“I…I’m fine.” He sighs, frustratingly running a hand through his silky hair. “It’s Jin and Kame I’m worried about.”
“Can we…help?”
“Hm.” The smile widens ever so slightly, accompanied by a small nod. “We’ll see.”
---
Sweat drips from the tips of his hair, streaming in rivulets down his spine as he forces his feet into the moves, painfully aware of Jin’s presence beside him. As if on cue, his hat falls to the ground, a simple drop that messes up their entire sequence. The music comes skidding to a stop, as does the rest of KAT-TUN as Kazuya bends down to pick up the hat.
“I knew you shouldn’t have worn it,” the manager claims almost accusingly, but he backs away with his hands literally held up in surrender when Kazuya shoots him a death glare.
“Let’s try this again,” the choreographer sighs disdainfully, his eyes focused on Kazuya and Kazuya alone. “And Kamenashi, please try to get it right this time.”
Kazuya feels Jin’s gaze burning into his back, and he nods curtly, placing the hat back onto his head and ignoring the manager’s quiet groan. Something is off with his feet today, his mind, his heart, his movements. The music doesn’t set a pace, it pulls him off, and Kazuya has to fight against it, a thing he’s never had to do before. Natural flow seems to have been stolen from him, and he pushes himself, gritting his teeth as droplets of sweat sting his eyes.
“CUT.” The choreographer and manager yell it out at the same time, their gazes immediately directed, fuming, towards Kazuya. “Kamenashi-”
“I’m going to take a walk,” he interrupts them rudely, his voice cold. He reaches up and takes off the hat in spite, throwing it onto a chair nearby as he walks out of the room with a don’t-anybody-dare-follow-me aura. Regardless, Kazuya flinches ever so slightly when he hears soft footsteps behind him, at a distance as he strides down the hallway and out into the blinding sun.
“I know you’re following me.” He stops abruptly, hands clenching into fists as he closes his eyes. “So please stop.”
“We need to talk.” The voice isn’t the one he expected, and his eyes fly open.
“Ji-” he stops himself, remembering the agreement they came to last night. His hands, in fists at his side, tighten until his knuckles are as white as paper. He works his tongue around the name, the syllables falling like cement bricks in the distance between them. “Akanishi.”
“Not now, but later. My place, at 9.”
Hesitating, Kazuya slowly unclenches his fists and turns around, strands of hair falling into his face as he returns Jin’s stare emotionlessly. “I will.”
“Good.” Kazuya closes his eyes once more, waiting for the sound of fading footsteps before he lets a single tear roll down his cheek.
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It has been a long day. Ryosuke lies in the warmth of Yuto’s arms, sighing contentedly as the taller boy strokes his hair with gentle fingers. On the television screen in front of them are none other than Jin and Kazuya, playing their parts in Gokusen 2. Yuto likes to think of the two onscreen as Hayato and Ryu, and in his mind, he desperately tries to compare their relationship with the real Jin and Kazuya.
“Yuto…” Ryosuke’s voice whispers in his ear.
“Hm?” he answers absently, curling a strand of hair around his finger.
“What are you thinking?”
The younger boy sighs, hugging Ryosuke tighter against him. “That Hayato and Ryu should be hugging instead of fighting each other.”
“Like…” Ryosuke tilts his head. “Akanishi and Kamenashi should be loving instead of hating each other.”
“Exactly.”
“…So what do we do?”
“We wait and see, and maybe one of them will come to their senses.”
The older boy nods silently, directing his gaze back towards the television. Or maybe they both will, Yuto thinks with a useless hope. Just maybe.
---
Inhaling sharply, Kazuya calms his stupid nerves and saunters up to the door of Jin’s apartment. It’s been a while since he’s last been here, a long while that seems like forever in his eyes. Nonetheless, Jin asked him to come, and here he is.
Biting his lower lip anxiously, Kazuya raises a hand and raps lightly on the wooden surface of the door. “It’s open,” Jin’s voice says from inside.
Hesitantly, Kazuya places his hand on the doorknob, curling his fingers tightly around the smooth metal before turning it and pushing. The door creaks open easily, swinging slowly to reveal a mess of litter and furniture, the contents of Jin’s apartment. Holding his breath, Kazuya steps in, letting the door click in place behind him.
Beyond a pair of glass doors, he sees Jin standing at the side of the balcony, leaning his weight against the railing with a cigarette dangling carelessly from his fingertips. Narrowing his eyes, Kazuya strolls over, pushing himself up onto the railing in a sitting position beside Jin.
Silence reigns between them before Kazuya reaches over, and to Jin’s surprise, gently pries the cigarette away from his fingertips. The younger man taps it down into an ashtray and places the tray with a soft clink onto the ground. “It’s bad for your health,” he murmurs, his voice low.
There’s a long moment of quietness, with only the cars whooshing past below in the streets and the distant chatter of passerby. And finally, Jin whispers almost painfully,
“Since when did you care?”
The question hits Kazuya unexpectedly. Because if you lose your voice, our band is ruined. Because if you get sick, it shatters the entire group. Because if you die, we can’t be KAT-TUN. But for all the answers lying on the tip of his tongue, Kazuya doesn’t say one. Instead, he glances down at the tiny grains of ash scattered across the tray, the leftover wisps of smoke trailing into the air, and then jumps off the railing, leveling his gaze with Jin’s.
Tension snaps like a rubber band between them, and Kazuya stares straight into the older man’s eyes. “I’ve always cared, Jin.”
Jin’s breath hitches. He slowly straightens himself up, flattening his palms against the cold metal railing before he brings one hand up, five fingers outstretched as if asking Kazuya to give him a high-five.
Kazuya barely flinches as he brings his hand up as well, pressing his palm against Jin’s. The older man closes his fingers down on Kazuya’s hand, wrapping them around his knuckles like a death grip and holding it tight. The younger man curls his fingers around Jin’s hand in response, and like a breath of air, they move towards each other, relaxing when their foreheads touch.
“I missed you, Kazuya,” Jin breathes, pulling the younger man against him almost desperately.
Kazuya holds Jin tight with his arm, closing his eyes in the familiar embrace. “Me too.”
**Okay, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASH/
ainekaikan! This chapter is for you, I hope you have a wonderful birthday filled with Tat-chan/MatsuJun love!
He freezes, his heart pounding like a drum in his ears. “W-what?” There’s a tremble in his voice, making the question sound thready and uncertain. “What?”
Ryosuke looks stricken, even more so than Yuto himself. He presses a hand to his own mouth, his eyes flickering involuntarily as he proceeds to stand up, his face turning as red as the streaks of color across the sky during dawn. “I…” he manages, stumbling towards the door. “I didn’t mean…” Tears threaten in his eyes, a filmy sheen of wetness that makes Yuto’s heart reach out.
“Wait, Ryosuke.”
The other boy halts, unsure, lost.
Drawing in a breath, Yuto gets up slowly, raising his gaze unblinkingly to Ryosuke’s. Wordlessly, he steps forward, causing the older boy’s breath to catch in his throat.
And to the surprise of the other, Yuto reaches out, bringing his arms around Ryosuke’s figure and pulling him close. It takes a moment, a long, endless, tense moment, before Yuto feels a response, a pair of arms wrapping themselves around him.
A smile spreads across his features gently, as slow and sweet as warm honey and milk on a cold winter day. He lets Ryosuke bury his face into the collar of his jacket, and he leans down to breathe into the older boy’s ear, “I like you, too. A lot.”
----------------------------------------------------------
Searing pain shoots through Kazuya’s head as he stumbles into the studio, collapsing with a silent groan onto their old, worn couch. It creaks loudly under his sudden weight as he fingers a design on the soft cushion, pieces of thread poking out from the sewing and creating gaps in the image.
None of the rest of the band seems to notice him, each immersed in his own routine of waking up fully. They aren’t given much time, though, less time than enough, Kazuya thinks. The door opens with a loud slam, and Jin emerges, rubbing his head and closely trailed by their manager and choreographer.
Kazuya delicately avoids Jin’s gaze, turning on his bright, fake smile for the others.
It’s gotten easier as time passes.
---
“Yuuri, thanks.” Ryosuke beams with radiance, his hand clasped with Yuto’s hidden behind their backs as they both stand in front of Yamapi and Chinen. “Thank you, Yamapi-senpai.”
“No need, Yama-chan, Yuto-chan.” Yamapi offers them a weak smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes. Dark circles ring underneath them, evidence of worry.
“Are you okay, Yamapi-san?”
“I…I’m fine.” He sighs, frustratingly running a hand through his silky hair. “It’s Jin and Kame I’m worried about.”
“Can we…help?”
“Hm.” The smile widens ever so slightly, accompanied by a small nod. “We’ll see.”
---
Sweat drips from the tips of his hair, streaming in rivulets down his spine as he forces his feet into the moves, painfully aware of Jin’s presence beside him. As if on cue, his hat falls to the ground, a simple drop that messes up their entire sequence. The music comes skidding to a stop, as does the rest of KAT-TUN as Kazuya bends down to pick up the hat.
“I knew you shouldn’t have worn it,” the manager claims almost accusingly, but he backs away with his hands literally held up in surrender when Kazuya shoots him a death glare.
“Let’s try this again,” the choreographer sighs disdainfully, his eyes focused on Kazuya and Kazuya alone. “And Kamenashi, please try to get it right this time.”
Kazuya feels Jin’s gaze burning into his back, and he nods curtly, placing the hat back onto his head and ignoring the manager’s quiet groan. Something is off with his feet today, his mind, his heart, his movements. The music doesn’t set a pace, it pulls him off, and Kazuya has to fight against it, a thing he’s never had to do before. Natural flow seems to have been stolen from him, and he pushes himself, gritting his teeth as droplets of sweat sting his eyes.
“CUT.” The choreographer and manager yell it out at the same time, their gazes immediately directed, fuming, towards Kazuya. “Kamenashi-”
“I’m going to take a walk,” he interrupts them rudely, his voice cold. He reaches up and takes off the hat in spite, throwing it onto a chair nearby as he walks out of the room with a don’t-anybody-dare-follow-me aura. Regardless, Kazuya flinches ever so slightly when he hears soft footsteps behind him, at a distance as he strides down the hallway and out into the blinding sun.
“I know you’re following me.” He stops abruptly, hands clenching into fists as he closes his eyes. “So please stop.”
“We need to talk.” The voice isn’t the one he expected, and his eyes fly open.
“Ji-” he stops himself, remembering the agreement they came to last night. His hands, in fists at his side, tighten until his knuckles are as white as paper. He works his tongue around the name, the syllables falling like cement bricks in the distance between them. “Akanishi.”
“Not now, but later. My place, at 9.”
Hesitating, Kazuya slowly unclenches his fists and turns around, strands of hair falling into his face as he returns Jin’s stare emotionlessly. “I will.”
“Good.” Kazuya closes his eyes once more, waiting for the sound of fading footsteps before he lets a single tear roll down his cheek.
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It has been a long day. Ryosuke lies in the warmth of Yuto’s arms, sighing contentedly as the taller boy strokes his hair with gentle fingers. On the television screen in front of them are none other than Jin and Kazuya, playing their parts in Gokusen 2. Yuto likes to think of the two onscreen as Hayato and Ryu, and in his mind, he desperately tries to compare their relationship with the real Jin and Kazuya.
“Yuto…” Ryosuke’s voice whispers in his ear.
“Hm?” he answers absently, curling a strand of hair around his finger.
“What are you thinking?”
The younger boy sighs, hugging Ryosuke tighter against him. “That Hayato and Ryu should be hugging instead of fighting each other.”
“Like…” Ryosuke tilts his head. “Akanishi and Kamenashi should be loving instead of hating each other.”
“Exactly.”
“…So what do we do?”
“We wait and see, and maybe one of them will come to their senses.”
The older boy nods silently, directing his gaze back towards the television. Or maybe they both will, Yuto thinks with a useless hope. Just maybe.
---
Inhaling sharply, Kazuya calms his stupid nerves and saunters up to the door of Jin’s apartment. It’s been a while since he’s last been here, a long while that seems like forever in his eyes. Nonetheless, Jin asked him to come, and here he is.
Biting his lower lip anxiously, Kazuya raises a hand and raps lightly on the wooden surface of the door. “It’s open,” Jin’s voice says from inside.
Hesitantly, Kazuya places his hand on the doorknob, curling his fingers tightly around the smooth metal before turning it and pushing. The door creaks open easily, swinging slowly to reveal a mess of litter and furniture, the contents of Jin’s apartment. Holding his breath, Kazuya steps in, letting the door click in place behind him.
Beyond a pair of glass doors, he sees Jin standing at the side of the balcony, leaning his weight against the railing with a cigarette dangling carelessly from his fingertips. Narrowing his eyes, Kazuya strolls over, pushing himself up onto the railing in a sitting position beside Jin.
Silence reigns between them before Kazuya reaches over, and to Jin’s surprise, gently pries the cigarette away from his fingertips. The younger man taps it down into an ashtray and places the tray with a soft clink onto the ground. “It’s bad for your health,” he murmurs, his voice low.
There’s a long moment of quietness, with only the cars whooshing past below in the streets and the distant chatter of passerby. And finally, Jin whispers almost painfully,
“Since when did you care?”
The question hits Kazuya unexpectedly. Because if you lose your voice, our band is ruined. Because if you get sick, it shatters the entire group. Because if you die, we can’t be KAT-TUN. But for all the answers lying on the tip of his tongue, Kazuya doesn’t say one. Instead, he glances down at the tiny grains of ash scattered across the tray, the leftover wisps of smoke trailing into the air, and then jumps off the railing, leveling his gaze with Jin’s.
Tension snaps like a rubber band between them, and Kazuya stares straight into the older man’s eyes. “I’ve always cared, Jin.”
Jin’s breath hitches. He slowly straightens himself up, flattening his palms against the cold metal railing before he brings one hand up, five fingers outstretched as if asking Kazuya to give him a high-five.
Kazuya barely flinches as he brings his hand up as well, pressing his palm against Jin’s. The older man closes his fingers down on Kazuya’s hand, wrapping them around his knuckles like a death grip and holding it tight. The younger man curls his fingers around Jin’s hand in response, and like a breath of air, they move towards each other, relaxing when their foreheads touch.
“I missed you, Kazuya,” Jin breathes, pulling the younger man against him almost desperately.
Kazuya holds Jin tight with his arm, closing his eyes in the familiar embrace. “Me too.”
**Okay, so HAPPY BIRTHDAY ASH/
ainekaikan! This chapter is for you, I hope you have a wonderful birthday filled with Tat-chan/MatsuJun love!