Gift fic for hyearts
Gift fic for: hyearts
From: newsficcon
Title: in absolut oblivion.
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Ryo/Shige, Yamapi/Shige
Warnings: possible dubcon, signs of a one sided relationship, manipulation, angst
Summary: When I think about it, I really have so much to tell you. A story of Shige, Ryo and the things they never say and the secrets that Yamapi knows.
Notes: hyearts, I hope you enjoy this. I certainly was questioning this as it was different from what I anticipated writing and I hope that it’s all right. This is a bit of a fragmented story so I hope it’s understandable. ♥
To be quite honest, Ryo used to scare the living daylights out of Shige.
He was monster machine Nishikido-kun with a poison tongue. He made the Juniors cry, glared at everyone and threw things around when he was angry. He was mean and scary with a heart of gold because he always made sure Tegoshi and Kusano and Shige caught the bus home before he stomped off the train station.
Ryo’s always been amazing, an artist, a friend, a type of man.
Shige used to think that maybe, in another world, in another universe, he and Ryo would have never met. Maybe, Shige thinks, then they could have been two faces in the crowd-Ryo with his guitar and singing at the train station, Shige walking by with a briefcase and a million and one things to remember for work. He thinks, perhaps, that happiness would have been attainable that way.
He wonders whether he would have been able to be Shige if he didn’t know Nishikido-kun. Because Shige can’t imagine Yamashita yelling at him, telling him to get it together already, he’s a professional, he can do it whether he believes it or not. No, Shige realises. Yamashita never would have said all that.
It’s better, when you aren’t like everyone else.
He watches the grains of light slips through his fingers. Shige sits on the rooftop, alone. It’d be almost a sight to behold, some guy with the skyscrapers around him and a cigarette in his hand. And it’s a shame, because if someone took a photo, it’d be a screen cap right out of a drama. But it’s Shige, still trying to reach for the stars in broad daylight.
And so maybe that’s the difference. Yamashita is an idol, Ryo is a musician. The two aren’t quite the same and yet, they pull it off. Sometimes Shige’s worries because he finds himself far too ordinary.
Didn’t you know, Shige, I liked that you were different.
I never asked you ‘why me’.
Do you think it’s too late?
Ryo pushes Shige against a wall, fingers on his lips before he kisses him.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Ryo tells him, before kissing him once more on the mouth, on the neck and asking Shige, “do you want me?” and not waiting for an answer. He leaves scattered dark marks over Shige’s neck, on his collarbone and concealed by only a shirt.
Shige kisses back.
Maybe it is.
In all truth and honesty-
I’m a fuck up.
-It’s easier to lie.
It’s no surprise that it’s Ryo that falls first.
He’s sentimental so it’s no surprise. He touches Shige’s lips before he kissed him, remembering their softness. He’s not sure when it all started, but it’s what he’s wanted for a while. Shige, Ryo thinks, is an idiot because he’s so smart and he knows it and yet, he lets himself get weighed down. Ryo sometimes wants to untie the ropes around Shige’s ankles and watch him swim to the surface.
Ryo stopped caring a long time ago whether he’s going to be squishing people when stomping around with his wants and needs. Maybe that’s what their world did to him, took out his heart and replaced it with a cold, mechanical replica.
Of all people, it’s Shige who turns the key and oils the squeaky parts that stopped functioning.
Ryo stops understanding, stops trying to comprehend why Shige doesn’t place any faith in the longevity of the spotlight. He thinks Shige could be someone, if Shige just put the right foot forward and stopped with the doubt. So before it’s too late, he asks:
“Hey, do you like anyone at the moment?”
Shige stares, flustered and confused. “Nishikido-kun?”
“Just curious,” Ryo says, laughing like it’s not big deal. Ryo wonders if people think he’s strange-introverted, masochistic.
And if only you knew.
Thinking about it, maybe it’s better that you didn’t.
He finds himself with fingers woven through Shige’s hair, gasping for air after each kiss. He drowns in belief that he can be anyone he wants.
Shige never complains, eyes on him, arms around his waist and fingers stroking the side of his face.
Actions speak for us.
Actions are character.
The thing is, he’s your best friend.
Once, Yamashita kissed Shige. A small kiss pressed onto the corner of Shige’s mouth, just barely there, a moment that existed only within a second.
“Are you happy, Shige?” Yamashita asked him.
Shige wonders how he fits into it all. He asks Yamashita one day, a while after that kiss and not so long after Ryo’s. He asks their fearless Leader, perfect Yamapi-their perfect poster boy, who only just laughs and bumps shoulders with him.
“You’re Shige. Shige is definitely good.”
Because Shige thinks that he’ll believe anything Yamashita tells him, that he’ll gladly fall under that spell.
“Are you happy, Shige?” Yamashita asks once more, mouth quirked into a small smile.
This is their thing, just tempura and beer and strange conversation. This is who they are, away from the cameras and the sequins and far away from prying reporters and the pressure of perfection. Just strange questions, just food and conversation that seems to have more than one implication.
“Nishikido-kun kissed me.” Shige watches Yamashita laugh, the smoke spiralling off the end of his cigarette.
“I know.”
I wanted him to react.
Ryo called Yamapi the moment Shige walked away, when Pi is about to leave the house for tempura with a friend. He rushed it out over the phone and asked, “Am I an idiot, Pi? You think I’m crazy?”
I needed him to be okay with it.
Yamashita sighs, putting out the cigarette and finishing his beer. “It’s alright, I mean. We’re NEWS. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“Yes,” Yamashita says simply. “He is.”
Yamashita kissed me before you did.
He’s your best friend.
“Say something then,” Shige snaps.
Tomohisa turns to him, a soft smile that isn’t honest and a bit too broken. “I don’t want to break your heart, Shigeaki. That’s Ryo-chan’s job.”
What’s wrong with us?
Nothing.
Everything.
His heart is in his throat, Ryo barely able to breathe, barely able to sleep. He tosses and turns in bed, replaying their kiss, replaying the gasps of Shige’s breath in his ear-Ryo tries to grasp it before it slips away.
Is that all it is, Shige wonders.
The first time he met Shige, Ryo thought he was nothing special.
To be honest, he didn’t think much of Shige at all. So perhaps, it is rather peculiar that of all people, it’s Shige. It could be anyone else. But, no. It’s Shige.
Ryo doesn’t bother asking why, just closes his eyes and tries to find rest and tries to find peace. Impossible, he realises. Not when he’s not sure of it all. They’re neither yes or no, neither together nor apart-it’s not normal, it’s not right that worry should be locking chains around his heart. It’s a foreign discomfort that Ryo cannot get rid of.
Thinking of Shige, Ryo’s reminded of years of hard work, of snark, of strumming guitars together in a dressing room. Dark hair, dark eyes, that ‘fake smile’ Shige likes to joke around with-
Tanned skin.
Ryo inhales.
One hand slips under the waistband of his trackpants.
He moans, nice and slow, closing his eyes and thinking of how warm Shige felt, pressed right against him and mouth hot and furiously responding to Ryo’s own.
Tell me what you want.
Ryo strokes himself, throwing his head back so his hair splays out over the pillow, eyes squeezed tight as he lets out soft, breathy moans. Yeah, like that, he thinks-Shige wasn’t easy and Ryo thinks that it’s like trying to control a live firecracker, their kisses so searing hot that both of them could hardly catch their breath-
Yeah, just like that.
He groans, hand wrapped around himself tightly.
Forget the past, forget the future; Ryo clings to that moment burnt into his memory, the one moment he finds Shige pressed against him with a flurry of shock, want, heat. He tries to capture it, tries to master it and finds himself coming hard at the thought of pushing Shige down onto his knees for some service.
Fuck, I wanted you so bad.
He sleeps well after that.
At one point, I think I cared.
I don’t know if I loved.
what the hell.
Shige sits in the meeting room, head rested on the table and listening to Koyama chatter to Tegoshi and Massu over their upcoming tour. Everyone’s happy for them, of course they’re all happy for them.
“Shige’s drama must be tiring him out, right? Work hard, Shige,” Tegoshi says, gleaming smile.
Shige makes some sort of tired hand motion, taking the tea Koyama pours. “Someone please shoot me.”
Nishikido comes stomping into the room with wet hair and a scowl. Never a good sign, but its Nishikido Ryo. His default mood is either ‘curled up in embarrassment’ or ‘hello there, storm clouds’. Either that or ‘obnoxious Kansai dude’.
Tegoshi and Koyama are the ones to greet Nishikido, mainly because no one would ever think to kill Koyama and Tegoshi’s pretty much immune to any type of dark, cloudy moods.
“Stop imitating a dead sea slug, aren’t you an idol?” Nishikido snaps at Shige.
Of course, nothing’s changed. Nishikido is still Nishikido and Shige is still well, Shige. No, he didn’t expect anything different. No, Shige didn’t think that anything’s changed, that it mattered at all.
I didn’t love.
So why did it hurt?
Yamashita slips into the room, chattering to Nishikido, ruffling Tegoshi’s hair and accepting the warm cup of tea Koyama hands him. He takes a seat next to Massu, smiling at Shige.
“Hey, talk to me later,” Ryo mutters to Pi.
“Good morning,” Shige greets, trying to muster a smile.
Yeah, it hurt.
“You’d think that it’d be easy,” Ryo rants, him and Yamapi sitting in a stairwell with some coffee cans and cigarettes. “What exactly can I say to him?”
“Just talk to him. Tell him whatever you think, you should be good at that,” Yamapi teases, the great friend he is.
Ryo snorts, inhaling some smoke, exhaling and letting out all the tension built up in his chest and shoulders. “You’d think it’s that easy.”
“It’s only complicated if you make it so. You can be happy if you want.”
Some part of him wants to believe Yamapi. It’s not that hard, listening to his best friend, listening to their poster boy because if anything, Ryo thinks that he and Pi will be the last one standing, hand in hand if the world were to end. It’s just who they are. Pi’s that strong, Ryo’s that stubborn. Something like that.
“I should try, huh,” Ryo mutters.
“You can do it, Ryo-chan.”
we’re pretty messed up, you and me.
Shige finds himself pushed into the men’s’ bathroom on the second floor, a hand hooked into the waistband of his jeans and another wound in his hair. He barely has time to protest when Ryo’s lips are on his and all breath is stolen from his mouth. The small of his back collides with the sink.
“Nishikido-kun-”
“What?”
Is this okay, Ryo ought to ask. Is this what you want?
Shige kisses back, arms wrapped around Ryo’s neck and one hand slowly trailing over his shoulders and down his back. Shige feels tense muscles, closes his eyes and lets out a breathy whimper when Ryo’s teeth rake over his neck. A soft lick at his collarbone, a sudden nip and Shige feels his insides turning to liquid heat, all his blood rushing south.
He’s got Ryo working at their belts and zippers. Shige’s own hand is at the hem of Ryo’s shirt, bunched up and tugging at the fabric.
“Come on, you can take it, can’t you?” Ryo taunts with one hand rifling through his pockets, the other stroking Shige rock hard and yearning.
This is how they want it, all vice and no glitter in a bathroom when anyone can walk in. It’s the closest they get, to warmth, to affection, to anything that’s reminiscent of love because to fall for anyone in their world is almost a curse. It’s all that have, handjobs and hard cocks over a bathroom sink.
Ryo wants to see it, watch Shige come undone and shaking in his arms. He kisses Shige’s neck, tugs Shige’s pants and boxers down and thinking how he wants to break Shige down. He feels his own throbbing need, mind clouded with the thought of Shige’s long throaty moans, the gasps he heard last night in his own sexual fantasy-fuck it, Ryo thinks. Fuck it all, he just wants to see Shige takes it hard, right between the thighs.
Ryo doesn’t come with a rulebook, Shige realises as he finds his head colliding with the mirror, ankles curling around the back of Ryo’s legs. He’s almost spread out, almost helpless and he doesn’t find any way to protest-maybe he doesn’t try it, maybe some part of him just wants it.
Ryo takes both their erections in his hand and squeezes, swallowing Shige’s moan in his mouth with a hard kiss.
The responsible part of him, that small part in his brain says that this could get them in trouble. Anyone could walk in and Ryo finds himself getting higher, head lost in the clouds and mind drowning out all thoughts but fuck yes, Shige’s body heat so close to him, one slick finger in, one surprised whimper and Shige’s eyes on him. He thinks that this beats talking, that maybe Pi was wrong.
One hand smacks his shoulder, Shige’s shaky protests and whispers, all talk about taking it a step back, back pedal, now, not now, not here, please, don’t-
And then it’s Ryo’s hand abandoning his cock, twisted in Shige’s hair and yanking his head back.
Shige shuts up, closing his eyes and the hand is on his jaw and turning his face to Ryo’s.
“Now,” Ryo hisses, one more bruising kiss and another finger in.
I shouldn’t want it.
But maybe I did.
Strange, isn’t it?
He tears the foil wrapper off, strokes Shige, touches himself, gives no warning when he pushes in and Ryo forgets Yamapi’s advice. Talking doesn’t work, they can’t talk. Nothing changes, even if they do talk. They would have happened like this, after the kiss, this could have happened after the kiss, in a day, in a month, whenever.
yeah, we’re really messed up.
Shige is barely able to think, feeling himself tearing into two, Ryo hitting home right away. He almost hates himself, almost resents how he asks for more, shudders with each thrust and hitching of their hips. Everything falls apart, right around him and Shige wonders why they’re doing this in the first place.
Why didn’t you say anything?
I’m not crazy.
I would have listened.
Shige comes first, trembling and shattered. He looks at Ryo with liquid eyes, trying to remember oxygen after his wordless moan.
Ryo comes right after, a grunt of completion with his nails biting into Shige’s hips. For a second, he leans his head onto Shige’s shoulder, raising a hand to pat his hair, to ease away the shaking and the invisible wounds they inflicted onto each other.
They don’t talk.
You could have asked me, I wouldn’t have said no, Shige nearly says. But he doesn’t, just remaining on the sink with his soul in tatters and Ryo in his arms. You could have said anything, he thinks. Talk to me, Ryo.
Ryo makes up some excuse, something about need to make a phone call. He leaves the bathroom, legs weak and mind in a mess.
I wanted to ask him, what’s wrong with me.
“Are you alright?” Yamashita asks him.
Shige thinks of his day, wincing with each step, avoiding Ryo’s eyes and avoiding everyone else’s questions. Am I alright, probably not. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” Yamashita says simply.
Because it’s not you? “It is. Just leave it.”
“Well, I don’t think this is something you two can talk about,” Yamashita guesses, pushing more tempura towards Shige’s side of the platter. “You could try, I suppose.”
“What’s that worth?” Shige says, his tone as bitter as his beer. He takes another gulp, finishing up and ordering one more. He feels it, warm in his blood. It’s better like this, just sitting with Yamashita, doing their thing and eating and trying to pretend it’ll fix itself. It won’t, but Shige doesn’t have to think about that. Not yet anyways. “It’s just what it is. It’ll work itself out.”
“And you’re willing to take it?”
“I kissed back,” Shige says simply. “The actions speak louder, don’t you think?”
Yamashita’s smile falters. “I suppose, yes.”
“Ryo kissed me. I kissed back. We didn’t slow down.”
“You call him Ryo now,” Yamashita notes.
“You call me Shige,” Shige replies.
Because if they have it any other way, it’d be Yamashita pushing Shige into the backseat of his car, soft hands on his waist and touching Shige’s face before they kiss over and over again.
“Everyone calls you Shige,” Yamashita says quietly.
“Yes,” Shige agrees. He can’t really say anything else.
I shouldn't have been so surprised.
“What are you doing here?”
Shige stands on Ryo’s doorstep, shifting around uncomfortably but meeting his gaze. “I was out. I just thought I’d come over.”
But not to talk, Ryo realises when Shige steps in, takes a seat and deliberately takes off his shoes and then one sock after the other. They’re in the genkan for what might be a second or what might be eternity until Shige stands up, looking for some house slippers.
“You were out,” Ryo repeats.
“Yes,” Shige confirms.
Either Shige pulled Ryo forward or Ryo grabbed Shige but they’re kissing, Shige tasting of beer and cigarettes, Ryo just plain cigarettes and frustration, the two of them stumbling backwards into walks, into shelves, around Ryo’s hallway and towards the bedroom with clothes slowly coming off.
No talking, absolutely no talking.
Round one is Shige on his back, Ryo above him and rough and hard and doing things that could be a touch like love but a bit off cruelty.
It takes a few cigarettes; some soft touches on Shige’s shoulders, a sharing of three kisses (exactly three, one on Ryo’s abdomen, one on Shige’s neck and one with their mouths pressed together, Shige’s teeth biting on Ryo’s lower lip) for them to get started on round two.
You’re different.
But you’re like me, like Pi as well.
Shige’s not sure when it’s him on top of Ryo, riding him hard and Ryo’s hair splayed over the pillow at his eyes are on him. Shige’s too busy, trying to stroke himself, trying to tighten around Ryo, trying not to beg for some kind of wonderful.
Ryo’s hand finds his, somewhere along the process, their fingers linked so tightly that for a moment, Shige leans down to kiss him.
Ryo’s all ripped jeans and guitars.
He runs a hand down Ryo’s chest, Yamashita’s words clear in his mind, ‘everyone calls you Shige’ because yes, it’s true; it’s all Shige-Shige-Shige-
“Shigeaki,” Ryo breathes.
Shige comes ridiculously hard, Ryo right after.
You’re fucking scared, Shige. Just like us.
When Shige wakes up, it’s his legs entangled with Ryo’s, a sheet thrown over them and Ryo smoking with his brow furrowed and face unreadable. Shige considers faking sleepy but just shifts around, wondering whether he’ll be the one to initiate another game of avoidance.
“I’ll keep my door open for you,” Ryo says.
Is that all we were?
“Thanks,” Shige replies quietly.
Ryo exhales some smoke, taking another long drag on his cigarette, almost like his giving it head. The circles under his eyes are worse, too much work, too many worries, so many pressures and none of them shared, at all. Maybe with Akanishi, maybe with Yamashita, maybe with people who see him laughing with whiskey and girls on either side of him, but still. Not really shared.
Shige rolls over slowly so he’s on his stomach, propped on his elbows. It’s almost strange, unusual even. Maybe because he was the one to take a step forward, grab Ryo by the t-shirt and crush their mouths together, just moments when he decided that the door would stay locked for the night. It’s the opposite of the bathroom at work.
“It’s funny,” Shige remarks softly.
“What is?”
He slowly clambers into Ryo’s lap, straddling him and sharing the nicotine, the smoke and the heat. “The world we live in,” Shige says simply. “People think we’re so special and yet, I never really believed it.”
“If we weren’t special, no one would be interested,” Ryo says, a hand on the small of Shige’s back, pressing him closer. “And that’d be the end of us.”
“We live our lives, based on whether people want to look at us.” A shake of the head, perhaps Shige’s being foolish, “Maybe they look, don’t see. Hear, but don’t listen. Feel, but don’t hurt.”
“Maybe,” Ryo agrees and he finishes off the cigarette before they meet in an empty kiss.
You’re special, Ryo. Not like me.
Occasionally, he worries about Yamapi. Ryo lets Yamapi go on with his European vacations, the various girls (sometimes a boy, but that never seems to work) and then Ryo pulls him back, asking Pi whether he actually likes anyone. Because Ryo thinks Pi likes someone and it’d be a shame if they didn’t like them back. Ryo can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want Yamapi.
“Maybe I like you, Ryo-chan,” Yamapi laughs, almost like he’s doing it for a variety show. “You’re pretty awesome, Ryo-chan.”
Ryo shoves him, smacks him on the shoulders and tells him to go back to reading his magazine.
“Nah, I don’t like you,” Yamapi confirms. “You and Shige, huh,” he murmurs.
“I don't know,” Ryo admits.
“Is he happy?” Yamapi asks.
“I wouldn’t say yes, but I don’t want to say no,” Ryo says.
You, Yamashita, you both are the special ones. Definitely not me.
“Why Shige?” Yamapi muses, turning a page in the magazine. “It’s not like Ryo-chan. Well, maybe there have been others, but. Well, it’s NEWS. I never thought that it’d happen within NEWS.”
“He’s different, Pi.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Ryo says, because Shige doesn’t need to really pile on all the gloves and the fur and the brightly coloured clothes. “I think it’s good though,” and he thinks of when Shige is jostling Koyama, the two of them making stupid expressions and Ryo envies how easy it seems for them. “I don’t know if it’ll last. Nothing really lasts for us.” He leans a head on Pi’s shoulder, bone and muscle, all that exercise and training blasting away the fat. “Maybe that’s for the better though,” Ryo ponders.
“Maybe. If you’re happy,” Yamapi murmurs.
Don’t hate yourself.I’m sorry.
I can’t.
Sometimes, it’ll be Ryo on his back, letting Shige mount him, letting Shige try and please him, try and ride him hard and fast and bring them both to the finish line before either of them have any idea that this is all just one broken farce. Ryo doesn’t mind it, Ryo just lets it happen, lets the hurricane knock him down flat onto the bed and Shige kiss him like he’s starved and desperate.
Then there’s the times Shige fights back, when Ryo is pushing him up against the wall, their clothes still on and Ryo grabbing their cocks and squeezing hard, trying to find his wallet, trying to get a condom, even if Shige’s pulling on his hair. Those days are scorching hot. He has Shige clawing at him, fingernails digging marks into his back and then the two of them bruised and cursing each other.
And Shige grabs onto Ryo, grasping for the lifeline. He finds his last light in the ocean, with Ryo slamming into him and his toes curling from the pain, the pleasure.
They skip around the subject at work, dramas, schedules and everything coming between them. That’s probably a blessing in disguise with Koyama’s worrying glances, Massu watching them carefully and Tegoshi perfectly oblivious. Yamapi stares, just a bit too long but he just places a hand on Ryo’s shoulder before he smiles and walks off.
Ryo tries to break him, tries to give him everything he wants and rejects. He’s caught up in this game that they’re playing, souls bared and hearts turned to ash. He grasps at straws, trying to figure out what Shige wants, breaks the rules and waits for Shige to slam his glass down, thirsting for more.
Are you okay?
Maybe they’re both crazy, Shige thinks one time after work, when he’s holding Ryo’s hand.
No, I’m not okay.
Ryo looks at him, confused.
Shige holds his hand, opens the umbrella and pulls them into the rain. It’s just simplicity, just the easy pleasure of taking a walk in the rain with someone and the puddles getting their shoes and jeans wet.
Ryo doesn’t let go.
No, I’m not okay.
They complain about so much but Ryo feels his heart fluttering, stomach doing flip-flops as they take the long way back to his place. He bitches about Shige leaving the umbrella in the genkan, pushes them both into the shower and they barely even touch, save for sharing a washcloth.
Shige looks almost at peace, leaning back in the ofuro.
Ryo sits across him, the water warm like a blanket.
He likes it, seeing Shige relaxed, even with a full work-up of scrapes and bruises and marks all over his neck, his shoulders, his collarbones. Ryo likes Shige-that shouldn’t be how it is, but Ryo thinks he might like Shige more than he should.
Why?
Sometimes, Ryo is kind and Shige doesn’t know how to react to that but he goes along with it. He lets Ryo fuss, lets Ryo give him a warm towel after each time and he might prefer it when Ryo walks away and leaves him gapping and his heart in pieces. It’s easier when Ryo is all tough and rough.
But, underneath it, Ryo is kind and they can’t avoid that.
I want more.
I might love you.
And perhaps, Shige likes it.
They’re pretty fucked up, Ryo realises, if Shige is using him as some sort of emotional battering ram and Ryo is letting it happen.
I don't know what I want.
Ryo doesn’t share those moments the perfect ones where Shige stands awkwardly at his bedroom door and Ryo’s sprawled over the bed. He doesn’t tell Pi about how he just shuffles over so Shige can fit next to him. It’s not interesting, but it’s perfect. Ryo wants to keep it to himself, the time Shige put a pillow between them and Ryo hurled the pillow across the room.
He asks Shige one night, “Am I crazy?”
For some reason, Shige shakes his head.
Ryo sleeps peacefully.
The yearning comes out of nowhere, something like a need for warm buttered toast in the morning.
Ryo gets used to waking up to Shige pottering around his kitchen, trying to figure out what to cook. He stands back and laughs when Shige burns the bacon or forgets to stir the miso soup. He says the food tastes awful, but it’s pretty damn good because Ryo suspects Koyama’s cooking lessons might have failed on this one.
Being that close to Ryo, Shige finds himself putting the jigsaw pieces together. Things start to fit for some reason. They shouldn’t, but they do.
“Good morning,” Shige greets one morning.
“Hm,” Ryo grunts, scratching his tummy and ruffling his own hair. “Urgh.”
You make me want to love you.
“Neck crink?”
“Yep.”
Ryo pours them both some coffee, into a mug for himself and one he bought for Shige at the two hundred yen store.
How so, Ryo?
“Do you still like girls?” Pi asks, casual and careless. They’re at work, the two of them getting their schedules from management. He looks tired, put together but worn out. “I mean, you like Shige, but. I don’t know.”
“I’m not the one who’s being stretched thin,” Ryo reminds. “Look at you.”
“Me, huh,” Pi laughs. Yamapi smiles, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”
“You know, I’m here for you.”
“You should be there for Shige,” Yamapi remarks. “I do like girls. And so do you.”
“I like Shige.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t know who I like at the moment,” Yamapi admits. He leans against a wall, defeated. “It’s pretty hard, liking someone and then telling them you do. Sometimes, they reject you or sometimes, they’re taken.”
To be quite honest, Ryo thinks that people would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to let someone like Yamapi slip out of their lives. He’s seen Yamapi at his best, at his worst, cruising through on auto-pilot-all of them are stable, all of them are invincible Yamashita Tomohisa and even Ryo believes in that image. Johnny’s done a pretty good job, moulding Ryo’s best friend.
“I’m sorry,” although Ryo has no idea what he’s apologising for.
He’s my best friend, I don’t want to see him hurt.
Eating with Yamashita is the same, yet there’s a gapping difference. There’s a wall between them, paper thin and structured by the balsa that holds up traditional sliding doors. Shige wants to knock it down, but with Yamashita, maybe it might be better to keep it up.
It might rain. The clouds are gathering and the air has a slight chill. It might rain and his jeans will get soaked later when his sneakers splash through the puddles.
Once, he shared an umbrella with Ryo, the two of them jostling and snapping as water splashed into their arms and in the end, Ryo lost his temper, chucked the umbrella aside and just dragged Shige through the pouring rain, insisting that it’s all Shige’s fault. Shige had tried his hardest not to laugh, but how could he when Ryo resembled a drowned rat by the end of the night?
He never tells Yamashita about those nights, the ones where Ryo laughs and the embers of his cigarette glows through the darkness-Yamashita knows nothing about how Shige leaned against Ryo, their shoulders bumping. Shige doesn’t talk to Yamashita about those nights.
“Are you happy with him?” Yamashita asks.
Maybe.
Shige just shrugs, the two of them ambling around the combini. “I don’t know.”
“You know.”
They dance around the subject, the meaning hidden underneath the seamless layers of Shige, Yamapi, Shigeaki and Tomohisa. The air between them is thick, clouded with the factors of everyone else and who they are. It’s a shame, really.
“I want you to be happy,” Yamashita says.
It rains.
“And what about you?” Shige asks.
Tomohisa’s smile is thin, broken almost. “And what about me?” he replies simply. “Great question. No answer. Sorry, game over.”
I don’t want to-
Don’t make me-
Let you go.
Shige is soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead and eyes as dark as night. He stands on Ryo’s doorstep, dripping rainwater everywhere and saying nothing. He’s shaking.
Because Shige told Yamashita, “Take the umbrella,” waited at the bus stop for an hour and let his feet take him to the one place he didn’t find any questions thrown at him.
“I’ll get some towels,” Ryo mutters.
Shige steps forward, cold water seeping through Ryo’s socks when they’re close. He tilts his head down, waiting.
It should be easy, a routine almost.
“You’ll catch a cold,” Ryo says.
Yamashita messaged him: are you happy, Shigeaki?
It arrived right before he rang Ryo’s doorbell.
Shige should be easy, straightforward, even. He’s followed the rules, played it safe. He finished school, took law. He has a good head between his shoulders. He graduated from university before Tegoshi, for crying out loud.
And yet, Ryo thinks that one wrong move and he might spam the self-destruct button. Truth is, Ryo likes explosions. He likes it when things go kaboom and there’s a big fiery mess in front of him. He’s been to monster truck rallies before.
“Shigeaki.”
By right, it should have been Tomohisa.
It shouldn’t have been you, Ryo.
“Don’t you think we should stop this?” Shige asks.
No.
“I’m sorry,” Ryo says, mechanical. This is him, being an actor.
Shige smiles thinly. “I’m sorry as well.”
Did you ever want me?
“He made me happy,” Shige tells Yamashita the next morning.
Yamashita takes Shige’s face into his hands, kissing him so hot and heavy. “You’re an idiot for letting him go,” he murmurs. “Because I can’t help either of you.”
Whose fault was it?
“He’s an idiot for leaving you,” Pi tells him.
Ryo lights a cigarette, leaning against the bathroom mirror. “We’re both idiots. We were screwed to begin with,” he remarks.
“Take care of yourself,” Yamapi advises. “You shouldn’t let yourself get hurt.”
Kissing Yamapi is like a mess, a mismatched symphony orchestra.
“I can’t help you either,” he tells Tomohisa, right before he walks away.
If I asked you to come back
Would you?
Shige throws open the bathroom door, locking it behind him. He sees Ryo sitting on the sink with a cigarette. He takes a moment to drink in the sight-Ryo, inhaling his nicotine with his eyes closed. Shige wonders if maybe he should kiss him and steal some of the smoke. He’s done it before.
When Ryo opens his eyes, Shige’s right in front of him.
Ryo tells him, “You shouldn’t be here.”
We should start over.
“But I want to be," Shige tells him.
From: newsficcon
Title: in absolut oblivion.
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Ryo/Shige, Yamapi/Shige
Warnings: possible dubcon, signs of a one sided relationship, manipulation, angst
Summary: When I think about it, I really have so much to tell you. A story of Shige, Ryo and the things they never say and the secrets that Yamapi knows.
Notes: hyearts, I hope you enjoy this. I certainly was questioning this as it was different from what I anticipated writing and I hope that it’s all right. This is a bit of a fragmented story so I hope it’s understandable. ♥
To be quite honest, Ryo used to scare the living daylights out of Shige.
He was monster machine Nishikido-kun with a poison tongue. He made the Juniors cry, glared at everyone and threw things around when he was angry. He was mean and scary with a heart of gold because he always made sure Tegoshi and Kusano and Shige caught the bus home before he stomped off the train station.
Ryo’s always been amazing, an artist, a friend, a type of man.
Shige used to think that maybe, in another world, in another universe, he and Ryo would have never met. Maybe, Shige thinks, then they could have been two faces in the crowd-Ryo with his guitar and singing at the train station, Shige walking by with a briefcase and a million and one things to remember for work. He thinks, perhaps, that happiness would have been attainable that way.
He wonders whether he would have been able to be Shige if he didn’t know Nishikido-kun. Because Shige can’t imagine Yamashita yelling at him, telling him to get it together already, he’s a professional, he can do it whether he believes it or not. No, Shige realises. Yamashita never would have said all that.
It’s better, when you aren’t like everyone else.
He watches the grains of light slips through his fingers. Shige sits on the rooftop, alone. It’d be almost a sight to behold, some guy with the skyscrapers around him and a cigarette in his hand. And it’s a shame, because if someone took a photo, it’d be a screen cap right out of a drama. But it’s Shige, still trying to reach for the stars in broad daylight.
And so maybe that’s the difference. Yamashita is an idol, Ryo is a musician. The two aren’t quite the same and yet, they pull it off. Sometimes Shige’s worries because he finds himself far too ordinary.
Didn’t you know, Shige, I liked that you were different.
I never asked you ‘why me’.
Do you think it’s too late?
Ryo pushes Shige against a wall, fingers on his lips before he kisses him.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Ryo tells him, before kissing him once more on the mouth, on the neck and asking Shige, “do you want me?” and not waiting for an answer. He leaves scattered dark marks over Shige’s neck, on his collarbone and concealed by only a shirt.
Shige kisses back.
Maybe it is.
In all truth and honesty-
I’m a fuck up.
-It’s easier to lie.
It’s no surprise that it’s Ryo that falls first.
He’s sentimental so it’s no surprise. He touches Shige’s lips before he kissed him, remembering their softness. He’s not sure when it all started, but it’s what he’s wanted for a while. Shige, Ryo thinks, is an idiot because he’s so smart and he knows it and yet, he lets himself get weighed down. Ryo sometimes wants to untie the ropes around Shige’s ankles and watch him swim to the surface.
Ryo stopped caring a long time ago whether he’s going to be squishing people when stomping around with his wants and needs. Maybe that’s what their world did to him, took out his heart and replaced it with a cold, mechanical replica.
Of all people, it’s Shige who turns the key and oils the squeaky parts that stopped functioning.
Ryo stops understanding, stops trying to comprehend why Shige doesn’t place any faith in the longevity of the spotlight. He thinks Shige could be someone, if Shige just put the right foot forward and stopped with the doubt. So before it’s too late, he asks:
“Hey, do you like anyone at the moment?”
Shige stares, flustered and confused. “Nishikido-kun?”
“Just curious,” Ryo says, laughing like it’s not big deal. Ryo wonders if people think he’s strange-introverted, masochistic.
And if only you knew.
Thinking about it, maybe it’s better that you didn’t.
He finds himself with fingers woven through Shige’s hair, gasping for air after each kiss. He drowns in belief that he can be anyone he wants.
Shige never complains, eyes on him, arms around his waist and fingers stroking the side of his face.
Actions speak for us.
Actions are character.
The thing is, he’s your best friend.
Once, Yamashita kissed Shige. A small kiss pressed onto the corner of Shige’s mouth, just barely there, a moment that existed only within a second.
“Are you happy, Shige?” Yamashita asked him.
Shige wonders how he fits into it all. He asks Yamashita one day, a while after that kiss and not so long after Ryo’s. He asks their fearless Leader, perfect Yamapi-their perfect poster boy, who only just laughs and bumps shoulders with him.
“You’re Shige. Shige is definitely good.”
Because Shige thinks that he’ll believe anything Yamashita tells him, that he’ll gladly fall under that spell.
“Are you happy, Shige?” Yamashita asks once more, mouth quirked into a small smile.
This is their thing, just tempura and beer and strange conversation. This is who they are, away from the cameras and the sequins and far away from prying reporters and the pressure of perfection. Just strange questions, just food and conversation that seems to have more than one implication.
“Nishikido-kun kissed me.” Shige watches Yamashita laugh, the smoke spiralling off the end of his cigarette.
“I know.”
I wanted him to react.
Ryo called Yamapi the moment Shige walked away, when Pi is about to leave the house for tempura with a friend. He rushed it out over the phone and asked, “Am I an idiot, Pi? You think I’m crazy?”
I needed him to be okay with it.
Yamashita sighs, putting out the cigarette and finishing his beer. “It’s alright, I mean. We’re NEWS. I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“He’s your best friend.”
“Yes,” Yamashita says simply. “He is.”
Yamashita kissed me before you did.
He’s your best friend.
“Say something then,” Shige snaps.
Tomohisa turns to him, a soft smile that isn’t honest and a bit too broken. “I don’t want to break your heart, Shigeaki. That’s Ryo-chan’s job.”
What’s wrong with us?
Nothing.
Everything.
His heart is in his throat, Ryo barely able to breathe, barely able to sleep. He tosses and turns in bed, replaying their kiss, replaying the gasps of Shige’s breath in his ear-Ryo tries to grasp it before it slips away.
Is that all it is, Shige wonders.
The first time he met Shige, Ryo thought he was nothing special.
To be honest, he didn’t think much of Shige at all. So perhaps, it is rather peculiar that of all people, it’s Shige. It could be anyone else. But, no. It’s Shige.
Ryo doesn’t bother asking why, just closes his eyes and tries to find rest and tries to find peace. Impossible, he realises. Not when he’s not sure of it all. They’re neither yes or no, neither together nor apart-it’s not normal, it’s not right that worry should be locking chains around his heart. It’s a foreign discomfort that Ryo cannot get rid of.
Thinking of Shige, Ryo’s reminded of years of hard work, of snark, of strumming guitars together in a dressing room. Dark hair, dark eyes, that ‘fake smile’ Shige likes to joke around with-
Tanned skin.
Ryo inhales.
One hand slips under the waistband of his trackpants.
He moans, nice and slow, closing his eyes and thinking of how warm Shige felt, pressed right against him and mouth hot and furiously responding to Ryo’s own.
Tell me what you want.
Ryo strokes himself, throwing his head back so his hair splays out over the pillow, eyes squeezed tight as he lets out soft, breathy moans. Yeah, like that, he thinks-Shige wasn’t easy and Ryo thinks that it’s like trying to control a live firecracker, their kisses so searing hot that both of them could hardly catch their breath-
Yeah, just like that.
He groans, hand wrapped around himself tightly.
Forget the past, forget the future; Ryo clings to that moment burnt into his memory, the one moment he finds Shige pressed against him with a flurry of shock, want, heat. He tries to capture it, tries to master it and finds himself coming hard at the thought of pushing Shige down onto his knees for some service.
Fuck, I wanted you so bad.
He sleeps well after that.
At one point, I think I cared.
I don’t know if I loved.
what the hell.
Shige sits in the meeting room, head rested on the table and listening to Koyama chatter to Tegoshi and Massu over their upcoming tour. Everyone’s happy for them, of course they’re all happy for them.
“Shige’s drama must be tiring him out, right? Work hard, Shige,” Tegoshi says, gleaming smile.
Shige makes some sort of tired hand motion, taking the tea Koyama pours. “Someone please shoot me.”
Nishikido comes stomping into the room with wet hair and a scowl. Never a good sign, but its Nishikido Ryo. His default mood is either ‘curled up in embarrassment’ or ‘hello there, storm clouds’. Either that or ‘obnoxious Kansai dude’.
Tegoshi and Koyama are the ones to greet Nishikido, mainly because no one would ever think to kill Koyama and Tegoshi’s pretty much immune to any type of dark, cloudy moods.
“Stop imitating a dead sea slug, aren’t you an idol?” Nishikido snaps at Shige.
Of course, nothing’s changed. Nishikido is still Nishikido and Shige is still well, Shige. No, he didn’t expect anything different. No, Shige didn’t think that anything’s changed, that it mattered at all.
I didn’t love.
So why did it hurt?
Yamashita slips into the room, chattering to Nishikido, ruffling Tegoshi’s hair and accepting the warm cup of tea Koyama hands him. He takes a seat next to Massu, smiling at Shige.
“Hey, talk to me later,” Ryo mutters to Pi.
“Good morning,” Shige greets, trying to muster a smile.
Yeah, it hurt.
“You’d think that it’d be easy,” Ryo rants, him and Yamapi sitting in a stairwell with some coffee cans and cigarettes. “What exactly can I say to him?”
“Just talk to him. Tell him whatever you think, you should be good at that,” Yamapi teases, the great friend he is.
Ryo snorts, inhaling some smoke, exhaling and letting out all the tension built up in his chest and shoulders. “You’d think it’s that easy.”
“It’s only complicated if you make it so. You can be happy if you want.”
Some part of him wants to believe Yamapi. It’s not that hard, listening to his best friend, listening to their poster boy because if anything, Ryo thinks that he and Pi will be the last one standing, hand in hand if the world were to end. It’s just who they are. Pi’s that strong, Ryo’s that stubborn. Something like that.
“I should try, huh,” Ryo mutters.
“You can do it, Ryo-chan.”
we’re pretty messed up, you and me.
Shige finds himself pushed into the men’s’ bathroom on the second floor, a hand hooked into the waistband of his jeans and another wound in his hair. He barely has time to protest when Ryo’s lips are on his and all breath is stolen from his mouth. The small of his back collides with the sink.
“Nishikido-kun-”
“What?”
Is this okay, Ryo ought to ask. Is this what you want?
Shige kisses back, arms wrapped around Ryo’s neck and one hand slowly trailing over his shoulders and down his back. Shige feels tense muscles, closes his eyes and lets out a breathy whimper when Ryo’s teeth rake over his neck. A soft lick at his collarbone, a sudden nip and Shige feels his insides turning to liquid heat, all his blood rushing south.
He’s got Ryo working at their belts and zippers. Shige’s own hand is at the hem of Ryo’s shirt, bunched up and tugging at the fabric.
“Come on, you can take it, can’t you?” Ryo taunts with one hand rifling through his pockets, the other stroking Shige rock hard and yearning.
This is how they want it, all vice and no glitter in a bathroom when anyone can walk in. It’s the closest they get, to warmth, to affection, to anything that’s reminiscent of love because to fall for anyone in their world is almost a curse. It’s all that have, handjobs and hard cocks over a bathroom sink.
Ryo wants to see it, watch Shige come undone and shaking in his arms. He kisses Shige’s neck, tugs Shige’s pants and boxers down and thinking how he wants to break Shige down. He feels his own throbbing need, mind clouded with the thought of Shige’s long throaty moans, the gasps he heard last night in his own sexual fantasy-fuck it, Ryo thinks. Fuck it all, he just wants to see Shige takes it hard, right between the thighs.
Ryo doesn’t come with a rulebook, Shige realises as he finds his head colliding with the mirror, ankles curling around the back of Ryo’s legs. He’s almost spread out, almost helpless and he doesn’t find any way to protest-maybe he doesn’t try it, maybe some part of him just wants it.
Ryo takes both their erections in his hand and squeezes, swallowing Shige’s moan in his mouth with a hard kiss.
The responsible part of him, that small part in his brain says that this could get them in trouble. Anyone could walk in and Ryo finds himself getting higher, head lost in the clouds and mind drowning out all thoughts but fuck yes, Shige’s body heat so close to him, one slick finger in, one surprised whimper and Shige’s eyes on him. He thinks that this beats talking, that maybe Pi was wrong.
One hand smacks his shoulder, Shige’s shaky protests and whispers, all talk about taking it a step back, back pedal, now, not now, not here, please, don’t-
And then it’s Ryo’s hand abandoning his cock, twisted in Shige’s hair and yanking his head back.
Shige shuts up, closing his eyes and the hand is on his jaw and turning his face to Ryo’s.
“Now,” Ryo hisses, one more bruising kiss and another finger in.
I shouldn’t want it.
But maybe I did.
Strange, isn’t it?
He tears the foil wrapper off, strokes Shige, touches himself, gives no warning when he pushes in and Ryo forgets Yamapi’s advice. Talking doesn’t work, they can’t talk. Nothing changes, even if they do talk. They would have happened like this, after the kiss, this could have happened after the kiss, in a day, in a month, whenever.
yeah, we’re really messed up.
Shige is barely able to think, feeling himself tearing into two, Ryo hitting home right away. He almost hates himself, almost resents how he asks for more, shudders with each thrust and hitching of their hips. Everything falls apart, right around him and Shige wonders why they’re doing this in the first place.
Why didn’t you say anything?
I’m not crazy.
I would have listened.
Shige comes first, trembling and shattered. He looks at Ryo with liquid eyes, trying to remember oxygen after his wordless moan.
Ryo comes right after, a grunt of completion with his nails biting into Shige’s hips. For a second, he leans his head onto Shige’s shoulder, raising a hand to pat his hair, to ease away the shaking and the invisible wounds they inflicted onto each other.
They don’t talk.
You could have asked me, I wouldn’t have said no, Shige nearly says. But he doesn’t, just remaining on the sink with his soul in tatters and Ryo in his arms. You could have said anything, he thinks. Talk to me, Ryo.
Ryo makes up some excuse, something about need to make a phone call. He leaves the bathroom, legs weak and mind in a mess.
I wanted to ask him, what’s wrong with me.
“Are you alright?” Yamashita asks him.
Shige thinks of his day, wincing with each step, avoiding Ryo’s eyes and avoiding everyone else’s questions. Am I alright, probably not. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not,” Yamashita says simply.
Because it’s not you? “It is. Just leave it.”
“Well, I don’t think this is something you two can talk about,” Yamashita guesses, pushing more tempura towards Shige’s side of the platter. “You could try, I suppose.”
“What’s that worth?” Shige says, his tone as bitter as his beer. He takes another gulp, finishing up and ordering one more. He feels it, warm in his blood. It’s better like this, just sitting with Yamashita, doing their thing and eating and trying to pretend it’ll fix itself. It won’t, but Shige doesn’t have to think about that. Not yet anyways. “It’s just what it is. It’ll work itself out.”
“And you’re willing to take it?”
“I kissed back,” Shige says simply. “The actions speak louder, don’t you think?”
Yamashita’s smile falters. “I suppose, yes.”
“Ryo kissed me. I kissed back. We didn’t slow down.”
“You call him Ryo now,” Yamashita notes.
“You call me Shige,” Shige replies.
Because if they have it any other way, it’d be Yamashita pushing Shige into the backseat of his car, soft hands on his waist and touching Shige’s face before they kiss over and over again.
“Everyone calls you Shige,” Yamashita says quietly.
“Yes,” Shige agrees. He can’t really say anything else.
I shouldn't have been so surprised.
“What are you doing here?”
Shige stands on Ryo’s doorstep, shifting around uncomfortably but meeting his gaze. “I was out. I just thought I’d come over.”
But not to talk, Ryo realises when Shige steps in, takes a seat and deliberately takes off his shoes and then one sock after the other. They’re in the genkan for what might be a second or what might be eternity until Shige stands up, looking for some house slippers.
“You were out,” Ryo repeats.
“Yes,” Shige confirms.
Either Shige pulled Ryo forward or Ryo grabbed Shige but they’re kissing, Shige tasting of beer and cigarettes, Ryo just plain cigarettes and frustration, the two of them stumbling backwards into walks, into shelves, around Ryo’s hallway and towards the bedroom with clothes slowly coming off.
No talking, absolutely no talking.
Round one is Shige on his back, Ryo above him and rough and hard and doing things that could be a touch like love but a bit off cruelty.
It takes a few cigarettes; some soft touches on Shige’s shoulders, a sharing of three kisses (exactly three, one on Ryo’s abdomen, one on Shige’s neck and one with their mouths pressed together, Shige’s teeth biting on Ryo’s lower lip) for them to get started on round two.
You’re different.
But you’re like me, like Pi as well.
Shige’s not sure when it’s him on top of Ryo, riding him hard and Ryo’s hair splayed over the pillow at his eyes are on him. Shige’s too busy, trying to stroke himself, trying to tighten around Ryo, trying not to beg for some kind of wonderful.
Ryo’s hand finds his, somewhere along the process, their fingers linked so tightly that for a moment, Shige leans down to kiss him.
Ryo’s all ripped jeans and guitars.
He runs a hand down Ryo’s chest, Yamashita’s words clear in his mind, ‘everyone calls you Shige’ because yes, it’s true; it’s all Shige-Shige-Shige-
“Shigeaki,” Ryo breathes.
Shige comes ridiculously hard, Ryo right after.
You’re fucking scared, Shige. Just like us.
When Shige wakes up, it’s his legs entangled with Ryo’s, a sheet thrown over them and Ryo smoking with his brow furrowed and face unreadable. Shige considers faking sleepy but just shifts around, wondering whether he’ll be the one to initiate another game of avoidance.
“I’ll keep my door open for you,” Ryo says.
Is that all we were?
“Thanks,” Shige replies quietly.
Ryo exhales some smoke, taking another long drag on his cigarette, almost like his giving it head. The circles under his eyes are worse, too much work, too many worries, so many pressures and none of them shared, at all. Maybe with Akanishi, maybe with Yamashita, maybe with people who see him laughing with whiskey and girls on either side of him, but still. Not really shared.
Shige rolls over slowly so he’s on his stomach, propped on his elbows. It’s almost strange, unusual even. Maybe because he was the one to take a step forward, grab Ryo by the t-shirt and crush their mouths together, just moments when he decided that the door would stay locked for the night. It’s the opposite of the bathroom at work.
“It’s funny,” Shige remarks softly.
“What is?”
He slowly clambers into Ryo’s lap, straddling him and sharing the nicotine, the smoke and the heat. “The world we live in,” Shige says simply. “People think we’re so special and yet, I never really believed it.”
“If we weren’t special, no one would be interested,” Ryo says, a hand on the small of Shige’s back, pressing him closer. “And that’d be the end of us.”
“We live our lives, based on whether people want to look at us.” A shake of the head, perhaps Shige’s being foolish, “Maybe they look, don’t see. Hear, but don’t listen. Feel, but don’t hurt.”
“Maybe,” Ryo agrees and he finishes off the cigarette before they meet in an empty kiss.
You’re special, Ryo. Not like me.
Occasionally, he worries about Yamapi. Ryo lets Yamapi go on with his European vacations, the various girls (sometimes a boy, but that never seems to work) and then Ryo pulls him back, asking Pi whether he actually likes anyone. Because Ryo thinks Pi likes someone and it’d be a shame if they didn’t like them back. Ryo can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t want Yamapi.
“Maybe I like you, Ryo-chan,” Yamapi laughs, almost like he’s doing it for a variety show. “You’re pretty awesome, Ryo-chan.”
Ryo shoves him, smacks him on the shoulders and tells him to go back to reading his magazine.
“Nah, I don’t like you,” Yamapi confirms. “You and Shige, huh,” he murmurs.
“I don't know,” Ryo admits.
“Is he happy?” Yamapi asks.
“I wouldn’t say yes, but I don’t want to say no,” Ryo says.
You, Yamashita, you both are the special ones. Definitely not me.
“Why Shige?” Yamapi muses, turning a page in the magazine. “It’s not like Ryo-chan. Well, maybe there have been others, but. Well, it’s NEWS. I never thought that it’d happen within NEWS.”
“He’s different, Pi.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Ryo says, because Shige doesn’t need to really pile on all the gloves and the fur and the brightly coloured clothes. “I think it’s good though,” and he thinks of when Shige is jostling Koyama, the two of them making stupid expressions and Ryo envies how easy it seems for them. “I don’t know if it’ll last. Nothing really lasts for us.” He leans a head on Pi’s shoulder, bone and muscle, all that exercise and training blasting away the fat. “Maybe that’s for the better though,” Ryo ponders.
“Maybe. If you’re happy,” Yamapi murmurs.
Don’t hate yourself.I’m sorry.
I can’t.
Sometimes, it’ll be Ryo on his back, letting Shige mount him, letting Shige try and please him, try and ride him hard and fast and bring them both to the finish line before either of them have any idea that this is all just one broken farce. Ryo doesn’t mind it, Ryo just lets it happen, lets the hurricane knock him down flat onto the bed and Shige kiss him like he’s starved and desperate.
Then there’s the times Shige fights back, when Ryo is pushing him up against the wall, their clothes still on and Ryo grabbing their cocks and squeezing hard, trying to find his wallet, trying to get a condom, even if Shige’s pulling on his hair. Those days are scorching hot. He has Shige clawing at him, fingernails digging marks into his back and then the two of them bruised and cursing each other.
And Shige grabs onto Ryo, grasping for the lifeline. He finds his last light in the ocean, with Ryo slamming into him and his toes curling from the pain, the pleasure.
They skip around the subject at work, dramas, schedules and everything coming between them. That’s probably a blessing in disguise with Koyama’s worrying glances, Massu watching them carefully and Tegoshi perfectly oblivious. Yamapi stares, just a bit too long but he just places a hand on Ryo’s shoulder before he smiles and walks off.
Ryo tries to break him, tries to give him everything he wants and rejects. He’s caught up in this game that they’re playing, souls bared and hearts turned to ash. He grasps at straws, trying to figure out what Shige wants, breaks the rules and waits for Shige to slam his glass down, thirsting for more.
Are you okay?
Maybe they’re both crazy, Shige thinks one time after work, when he’s holding Ryo’s hand.
No, I’m not okay.
Ryo looks at him, confused.
Shige holds his hand, opens the umbrella and pulls them into the rain. It’s just simplicity, just the easy pleasure of taking a walk in the rain with someone and the puddles getting their shoes and jeans wet.
Ryo doesn’t let go.
No, I’m not okay.
They complain about so much but Ryo feels his heart fluttering, stomach doing flip-flops as they take the long way back to his place. He bitches about Shige leaving the umbrella in the genkan, pushes them both into the shower and they barely even touch, save for sharing a washcloth.
Shige looks almost at peace, leaning back in the ofuro.
Ryo sits across him, the water warm like a blanket.
He likes it, seeing Shige relaxed, even with a full work-up of scrapes and bruises and marks all over his neck, his shoulders, his collarbones. Ryo likes Shige-that shouldn’t be how it is, but Ryo thinks he might like Shige more than he should.
Why?
Sometimes, Ryo is kind and Shige doesn’t know how to react to that but he goes along with it. He lets Ryo fuss, lets Ryo give him a warm towel after each time and he might prefer it when Ryo walks away and leaves him gapping and his heart in pieces. It’s easier when Ryo is all tough and rough.
But, underneath it, Ryo is kind and they can’t avoid that.
I want more.
I might love you.
And perhaps, Shige likes it.
They’re pretty fucked up, Ryo realises, if Shige is using him as some sort of emotional battering ram and Ryo is letting it happen.
I don't know what I want.
Ryo doesn’t share those moments the perfect ones where Shige stands awkwardly at his bedroom door and Ryo’s sprawled over the bed. He doesn’t tell Pi about how he just shuffles over so Shige can fit next to him. It’s not interesting, but it’s perfect. Ryo wants to keep it to himself, the time Shige put a pillow between them and Ryo hurled the pillow across the room.
He asks Shige one night, “Am I crazy?”
For some reason, Shige shakes his head.
Ryo sleeps peacefully.
The yearning comes out of nowhere, something like a need for warm buttered toast in the morning.
Ryo gets used to waking up to Shige pottering around his kitchen, trying to figure out what to cook. He stands back and laughs when Shige burns the bacon or forgets to stir the miso soup. He says the food tastes awful, but it’s pretty damn good because Ryo suspects Koyama’s cooking lessons might have failed on this one.
Being that close to Ryo, Shige finds himself putting the jigsaw pieces together. Things start to fit for some reason. They shouldn’t, but they do.
“Good morning,” Shige greets one morning.
“Hm,” Ryo grunts, scratching his tummy and ruffling his own hair. “Urgh.”
You make me want to love you.
“Neck crink?”
“Yep.”
Ryo pours them both some coffee, into a mug for himself and one he bought for Shige at the two hundred yen store.
How so, Ryo?
“Do you still like girls?” Pi asks, casual and careless. They’re at work, the two of them getting their schedules from management. He looks tired, put together but worn out. “I mean, you like Shige, but. I don’t know.”
“I’m not the one who’s being stretched thin,” Ryo reminds. “Look at you.”
“Me, huh,” Pi laughs. Yamapi smiles, shaking his head. “I’m fine.”
“You know, I’m here for you.”
“You should be there for Shige,” Yamapi remarks. “I do like girls. And so do you.”
“I like Shige.”
“I know.”
“But I don’t know who I like at the moment,” Yamapi admits. He leans against a wall, defeated. “It’s pretty hard, liking someone and then telling them you do. Sometimes, they reject you or sometimes, they’re taken.”
To be quite honest, Ryo thinks that people would have to be blind, deaf and dumb to let someone like Yamapi slip out of their lives. He’s seen Yamapi at his best, at his worst, cruising through on auto-pilot-all of them are stable, all of them are invincible Yamashita Tomohisa and even Ryo believes in that image. Johnny’s done a pretty good job, moulding Ryo’s best friend.
“I’m sorry,” although Ryo has no idea what he’s apologising for.
He’s my best friend, I don’t want to see him hurt.
Eating with Yamashita is the same, yet there’s a gapping difference. There’s a wall between them, paper thin and structured by the balsa that holds up traditional sliding doors. Shige wants to knock it down, but with Yamashita, maybe it might be better to keep it up.
It might rain. The clouds are gathering and the air has a slight chill. It might rain and his jeans will get soaked later when his sneakers splash through the puddles.
Once, he shared an umbrella with Ryo, the two of them jostling and snapping as water splashed into their arms and in the end, Ryo lost his temper, chucked the umbrella aside and just dragged Shige through the pouring rain, insisting that it’s all Shige’s fault. Shige had tried his hardest not to laugh, but how could he when Ryo resembled a drowned rat by the end of the night?
He never tells Yamashita about those nights, the ones where Ryo laughs and the embers of his cigarette glows through the darkness-Yamashita knows nothing about how Shige leaned against Ryo, their shoulders bumping. Shige doesn’t talk to Yamashita about those nights.
“Are you happy with him?” Yamashita asks.
Maybe.
Shige just shrugs, the two of them ambling around the combini. “I don’t know.”
“You know.”
They dance around the subject, the meaning hidden underneath the seamless layers of Shige, Yamapi, Shigeaki and Tomohisa. The air between them is thick, clouded with the factors of everyone else and who they are. It’s a shame, really.
“I want you to be happy,” Yamashita says.
It rains.
“And what about you?” Shige asks.
Tomohisa’s smile is thin, broken almost. “And what about me?” he replies simply. “Great question. No answer. Sorry, game over.”
I don’t want to-
Don’t make me-
Let you go.
Shige is soaked to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead and eyes as dark as night. He stands on Ryo’s doorstep, dripping rainwater everywhere and saying nothing. He’s shaking.
Because Shige told Yamashita, “Take the umbrella,” waited at the bus stop for an hour and let his feet take him to the one place he didn’t find any questions thrown at him.
“I’ll get some towels,” Ryo mutters.
Shige steps forward, cold water seeping through Ryo’s socks when they’re close. He tilts his head down, waiting.
It should be easy, a routine almost.
“You’ll catch a cold,” Ryo says.
Yamashita messaged him: are you happy, Shigeaki?
It arrived right before he rang Ryo’s doorbell.
Shige should be easy, straightforward, even. He’s followed the rules, played it safe. He finished school, took law. He has a good head between his shoulders. He graduated from university before Tegoshi, for crying out loud.
And yet, Ryo thinks that one wrong move and he might spam the self-destruct button. Truth is, Ryo likes explosions. He likes it when things go kaboom and there’s a big fiery mess in front of him. He’s been to monster truck rallies before.
“Shigeaki.”
By right, it should have been Tomohisa.
It shouldn’t have been you, Ryo.
“Don’t you think we should stop this?” Shige asks.
No.
“I’m sorry,” Ryo says, mechanical. This is him, being an actor.
Shige smiles thinly. “I’m sorry as well.”
Did you ever want me?
“He made me happy,” Shige tells Yamashita the next morning.
Yamashita takes Shige’s face into his hands, kissing him so hot and heavy. “You’re an idiot for letting him go,” he murmurs. “Because I can’t help either of you.”
Whose fault was it?
“He’s an idiot for leaving you,” Pi tells him.
Ryo lights a cigarette, leaning against the bathroom mirror. “We’re both idiots. We were screwed to begin with,” he remarks.
“Take care of yourself,” Yamapi advises. “You shouldn’t let yourself get hurt.”
Kissing Yamapi is like a mess, a mismatched symphony orchestra.
“I can’t help you either,” he tells Tomohisa, right before he walks away.
If I asked you to come back
Would you?
Shige throws open the bathroom door, locking it behind him. He sees Ryo sitting on the sink with a cigarette. He takes a moment to drink in the sight-Ryo, inhaling his nicotine with his eyes closed. Shige wonders if maybe he should kiss him and steal some of the smoke. He’s done it before.
When Ryo opens his eyes, Shige’s right in front of him.
Ryo tells him, “You shouldn’t be here.”
We should start over.
“But I want to be," Shige tells him.