[JE] Subtle
Title: Subtle
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Pairing: Kokame
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff
Words: 1,570
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit.
Summary: Kame and Koki attempt to be subtle in a restaurant, with mixed results.
Kame isn't sure how he's ended up on a date. He's not even sure this *is* a date...but he is sure that he and Koki will kiss, maybe more, by the end of the night, and that will break the cycle of dinners and drunken karaoke.
This is supposed to be a KAT-TUN group meal, but somehow it's become K-T alone. Jin had thrown some money down on the table and said he was going home to rest, but Kame knows he's going clubbing, going to meet some girl and let her smooth away the tiredness from his features. The other three have moved from the table to the bar, and if Kame looks out of the corner of his eye, he can still see them.
But he doesn't want to. Not when he's got Koki sitting next to him, pressed thigh to thigh in the small booth even though there is now room for them to spread out. Kame's been squashed against the wall all night by virtue of being a) short and b) skinny, and therefore not needing the extra space afforded by the end position. Jin had claimed that straight away on their side, insisting that he needed the leg-room - though he'd been less than thrilled that this had placed him opposite Junno and first in the line of fire for bad puns.
It hasn't been so bad for Kame; although his elbow's taken a few knocks against the wall, and Koki's sometimes forgotten that Kame actually requires room to breathe, it's been a good evening. Good food, good company, and good thing that everyone else has left the table because Koki's hand is slowly making the transition from his own thigh to Kame's.
Kame looks down at the black-painted nails sliding across his slacks, and raises his eyebrows at Koki. Koki grins sheepishly and retracts them, fingers crawling along in slow steps so that Kame can feel tiny pinpricks of pressure through the fabric.
"I was trying to be subtle," Koki says.
Kame can only laugh at that. "I thought you'd given up on subtlety after you rang the bells for me and said you loved me on national television. My mother called after the episode aired and asked if there was anything I wanted to tell her."
"So what did you say?"
"That we were the hot contenders to win the Johnny's 'Fanservice of the Month' award."
Koki snorts. "We don't exactly have much competition. Fishing? Shopping for kitchen knives?"
Kame can't argue with that. His team had by far the most fun that day - going to the sea, riding in cable cars, getting mobbed by a crowd of enthusiastic fanboys. It was a good break for him, after a month and a half of Dream Boys performances, and even though he and Koki have spent so much time together lately, they're nowhere near the point of being sick of each other's company.
Far from it. Kame grazes one black leather ankle boot along Koki's navy-and-white trainer, lets it slide up ripped jeans. A casual touch, almost accidental.
"Subtle," Koki says, and Kame gives him an impish grin. "Why weren't you doing that earlier?"
"I tried, but Ueda kept sticking his legs down the middle. I think Jin put him up to it."
Koki rubs the back of his neck. "Ah, Kame-chan sure is popular..."
"If I'm so popular, why are we sitting here all alone?"
"Because they all know better than to get in our way."
Kame's pretty sure that Koki's trying to be fierce, talking all tough with his brash sneer and showing his teeth, but the overall effect is somewhat less than intimidating. Makes him think of a terrier trying to cow a pack of Alsatians. For all that Koki likes to maintain a gangster image, the truth of the matter is that while he has the odd moment, he just...isn't scary.
Especially not to Kame, who can wrap him round his little finger in a heartbeat.
"Oh? And what did you plan on doing in the middle of a restaurant?"
"We're not in the middle," Koki points out. "We're at the back, in a tiny booth, round the corner from almost everyone else." He takes the small, flickering lamp from the table and dials it down low, leaving them in comfortable dimness. "Plus, it's really dark."
Kame has to give him points for effort, though he can't help but wish for some sort of elaborate table decoration they could hide behind, since the menus are long gone and Kame's hat of the day, a black fedora with glittery skulls along the band, isn't big enough to use for cover. Not without attracting attention. If only he had his sombrero...
Still, he thinks it's unlikely any paparazzi will be popping out of the woodwork and catching them unawares. They look for Kame with leggy young models, or elegant older actresses - not other members of KAT-TUN.
Koki hasn't bothered to shave; Kame's fingers trail along his jaw, tickled by stubble as they seek out his mouth. They skim lightly across his lower lip, delicate around the edges, never quite probing inside.
"It is dark," Kame agrees, breathing his words directly into Koki's ear. "Think anyone would notice?"
"Maybe if I swept everything dramatically off the table and threw you down on it?"
Kame rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and flexes. Between the drama and the musical, he's carrying more muscle than he's ever had in his life. "You could try," he teases.
Koki doesn't bother. He half-turns, sitting at an angle so he can see Kame, so he can run one arm along the back of the seat and let it hover over Kame's shoulders. "Kazuya," he begins, "can we...?"
It requires so much effort to keep the laughter from bubbling up that Kame is practically shaking. It's been such a long, heavy-handed courtship that he's surprised Koki's even asking him. Mock kisses and bridal scenes, declarations of affection both public and private, those random hugs that Koki gives so freely...and absolute trust, and support, and a warmth and friendship that goes far beyond work.
Maybe it's only natural, Kame thinks, since they've been paired up so often. Maybe it's inevitable that he's walked off-stage after a show and found Koki following him into his dressing room, throwing a celebratory arm round his shoulders for another performance complete and lingering just a touch too long to be innocent. Maybe Koki's encouragement when he's feeling low, and fretting about him when he loses too much weight, and generosity in treating him to meals to make sure that doesn't happen...maybe it's all just fate, and Kame shouldn't even try to fight it.
It's much easier to accept that which is freely offered, and Koki's offer is on the table - so to speak.
Kame takes it.
"You don't need to ask," he murmurs, swivelling round so he has his back to the wall and one knee crammed at an awkward angle under the table. "But we should probably go somewhere else."
He doesn't really want to move, though, and there's something thrilling about wrapping himself around Koki in a restaurant, even if very few people are actually positioned to see them. Everyone's already seen them pretend to kiss in public - what's to say this is any different? In dim lighting and with Koki's back to the other tables, there's a subtle difference between playing around and playing for keeps.
"If you want." Koki doesn't sound enthusiastic about moving either. "But no one's looking."
Kame casts a glance over Koki's shoulder. "You can't even see."
Koki gives him a grin that could only be called 'sappy'. "I can see the reflection in your eyes."
There's only one response to that, and Kame makes it, smacking Koki gently across the head. It is, he considers, a form of affection, albeit of the elementary school variety. But Kame is the youngest in KAT-TUN and Koki's not *that* much older, so he feels justified. Koki's used to it by now.
"One day I'll hit you back," he threatens.
Kame matches the grin with one of his own and shakes his head. "Never going to happen," he says, and then he makes sure Koki's in no position to argue, tilting forwards to kiss him.
The kiss is light, sweet, subtle, like the couple of times they screwed up during Dream Boys and Koki leaned too far, or Kame didn't dodge fast enough. It doesn't set Kame's pulse racing, it doesn't make him feel a desperate need to strip them both in seconds and give new meaning to the term 'dinner show'.
But it does make him want more. It makes the tips of his fingers tingle, as they weave their way through Koki's choppy blond hair and tease the many piercings. It makes him feel a little giddy, like he's climbed to the top of a mountain to look down on the world and discovered that he can do anything.
"Koki."
"What?"
"Thank you."
"I haven't even done anything yet." There's an element of blatant 'if you'll just give me half a chance' urgency in his voice.
Kame picks up his fedora, flips it once and places it at a rakish angle on Koki's head. "Thank you for everything you don't even think you've done," he says, and Koki never gets the chance to ask for an explanation.
Fandom: KAT-TUN
Pairing: Kokame
Rating: PG
Genre: Fluff
Words: 1,570
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit.
Summary: Kame and Koki attempt to be subtle in a restaurant, with mixed results.
Kame isn't sure how he's ended up on a date. He's not even sure this *is* a date...but he is sure that he and Koki will kiss, maybe more, by the end of the night, and that will break the cycle of dinners and drunken karaoke.
This is supposed to be a KAT-TUN group meal, but somehow it's become K-T alone. Jin had thrown some money down on the table and said he was going home to rest, but Kame knows he's going clubbing, going to meet some girl and let her smooth away the tiredness from his features. The other three have moved from the table to the bar, and if Kame looks out of the corner of his eye, he can still see them.
But he doesn't want to. Not when he's got Koki sitting next to him, pressed thigh to thigh in the small booth even though there is now room for them to spread out. Kame's been squashed against the wall all night by virtue of being a) short and b) skinny, and therefore not needing the extra space afforded by the end position. Jin had claimed that straight away on their side, insisting that he needed the leg-room - though he'd been less than thrilled that this had placed him opposite Junno and first in the line of fire for bad puns.
It hasn't been so bad for Kame; although his elbow's taken a few knocks against the wall, and Koki's sometimes forgotten that Kame actually requires room to breathe, it's been a good evening. Good food, good company, and good thing that everyone else has left the table because Koki's hand is slowly making the transition from his own thigh to Kame's.
Kame looks down at the black-painted nails sliding across his slacks, and raises his eyebrows at Koki. Koki grins sheepishly and retracts them, fingers crawling along in slow steps so that Kame can feel tiny pinpricks of pressure through the fabric.
"I was trying to be subtle," Koki says.
Kame can only laugh at that. "I thought you'd given up on subtlety after you rang the bells for me and said you loved me on national television. My mother called after the episode aired and asked if there was anything I wanted to tell her."
"So what did you say?"
"That we were the hot contenders to win the Johnny's 'Fanservice of the Month' award."
Koki snorts. "We don't exactly have much competition. Fishing? Shopping for kitchen knives?"
Kame can't argue with that. His team had by far the most fun that day - going to the sea, riding in cable cars, getting mobbed by a crowd of enthusiastic fanboys. It was a good break for him, after a month and a half of Dream Boys performances, and even though he and Koki have spent so much time together lately, they're nowhere near the point of being sick of each other's company.
Far from it. Kame grazes one black leather ankle boot along Koki's navy-and-white trainer, lets it slide up ripped jeans. A casual touch, almost accidental.
"Subtle," Koki says, and Kame gives him an impish grin. "Why weren't you doing that earlier?"
"I tried, but Ueda kept sticking his legs down the middle. I think Jin put him up to it."
Koki rubs the back of his neck. "Ah, Kame-chan sure is popular..."
"If I'm so popular, why are we sitting here all alone?"
"Because they all know better than to get in our way."
Kame's pretty sure that Koki's trying to be fierce, talking all tough with his brash sneer and showing his teeth, but the overall effect is somewhat less than intimidating. Makes him think of a terrier trying to cow a pack of Alsatians. For all that Koki likes to maintain a gangster image, the truth of the matter is that while he has the odd moment, he just...isn't scary.
Especially not to Kame, who can wrap him round his little finger in a heartbeat.
"Oh? And what did you plan on doing in the middle of a restaurant?"
"We're not in the middle," Koki points out. "We're at the back, in a tiny booth, round the corner from almost everyone else." He takes the small, flickering lamp from the table and dials it down low, leaving them in comfortable dimness. "Plus, it's really dark."
Kame has to give him points for effort, though he can't help but wish for some sort of elaborate table decoration they could hide behind, since the menus are long gone and Kame's hat of the day, a black fedora with glittery skulls along the band, isn't big enough to use for cover. Not without attracting attention. If only he had his sombrero...
Still, he thinks it's unlikely any paparazzi will be popping out of the woodwork and catching them unawares. They look for Kame with leggy young models, or elegant older actresses - not other members of KAT-TUN.
Koki hasn't bothered to shave; Kame's fingers trail along his jaw, tickled by stubble as they seek out his mouth. They skim lightly across his lower lip, delicate around the edges, never quite probing inside.
"It is dark," Kame agrees, breathing his words directly into Koki's ear. "Think anyone would notice?"
"Maybe if I swept everything dramatically off the table and threw you down on it?"
Kame rolls up the sleeve of his shirt and flexes. Between the drama and the musical, he's carrying more muscle than he's ever had in his life. "You could try," he teases.
Koki doesn't bother. He half-turns, sitting at an angle so he can see Kame, so he can run one arm along the back of the seat and let it hover over Kame's shoulders. "Kazuya," he begins, "can we...?"
It requires so much effort to keep the laughter from bubbling up that Kame is practically shaking. It's been such a long, heavy-handed courtship that he's surprised Koki's even asking him. Mock kisses and bridal scenes, declarations of affection both public and private, those random hugs that Koki gives so freely...and absolute trust, and support, and a warmth and friendship that goes far beyond work.
Maybe it's only natural, Kame thinks, since they've been paired up so often. Maybe it's inevitable that he's walked off-stage after a show and found Koki following him into his dressing room, throwing a celebratory arm round his shoulders for another performance complete and lingering just a touch too long to be innocent. Maybe Koki's encouragement when he's feeling low, and fretting about him when he loses too much weight, and generosity in treating him to meals to make sure that doesn't happen...maybe it's all just fate, and Kame shouldn't even try to fight it.
It's much easier to accept that which is freely offered, and Koki's offer is on the table - so to speak.
Kame takes it.
"You don't need to ask," he murmurs, swivelling round so he has his back to the wall and one knee crammed at an awkward angle under the table. "But we should probably go somewhere else."
He doesn't really want to move, though, and there's something thrilling about wrapping himself around Koki in a restaurant, even if very few people are actually positioned to see them. Everyone's already seen them pretend to kiss in public - what's to say this is any different? In dim lighting and with Koki's back to the other tables, there's a subtle difference between playing around and playing for keeps.
"If you want." Koki doesn't sound enthusiastic about moving either. "But no one's looking."
Kame casts a glance over Koki's shoulder. "You can't even see."
Koki gives him a grin that could only be called 'sappy'. "I can see the reflection in your eyes."
There's only one response to that, and Kame makes it, smacking Koki gently across the head. It is, he considers, a form of affection, albeit of the elementary school variety. But Kame is the youngest in KAT-TUN and Koki's not *that* much older, so he feels justified. Koki's used to it by now.
"One day I'll hit you back," he threatens.
Kame matches the grin with one of his own and shakes his head. "Never going to happen," he says, and then he makes sure Koki's in no position to argue, tilting forwards to kiss him.
The kiss is light, sweet, subtle, like the couple of times they screwed up during Dream Boys and Koki leaned too far, or Kame didn't dodge fast enough. It doesn't set Kame's pulse racing, it doesn't make him feel a desperate need to strip them both in seconds and give new meaning to the term 'dinner show'.
But it does make him want more. It makes the tips of his fingers tingle, as they weave their way through Koki's choppy blond hair and tease the many piercings. It makes him feel a little giddy, like he's climbed to the top of a mountain to look down on the world and discovered that he can do anything.
"Koki."
"What?"
"Thank you."
"I haven't even done anything yet." There's an element of blatant 'if you'll just give me half a chance' urgency in his voice.
Kame picks up his fedora, flips it once and places it at a rakish angle on Koki's head. "Thank you for everything you don't even think you've done," he says, and Koki never gets the chance to ask for an explanation.