The Run Around Part 3 for Chouta Angel!
Title: The Run Around Part 3
Author: whisper132
Recipient: chouta_angel
Pairing/Characters: Shiraishi/Yukimura, a sprinkling of Jirou/Kirihara, Chitose, Jackal, Osamu
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This may induce "the feels." If you are uncomfortable with "the feels," please speak to your physician prior to interacting with "the feels."
Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff, the plot would be very different. Very. Different.
Summary: When a member of Japan's hottest idol group, The Run Around, meets a sassy nurse, the entertainment industry is turned on its head, and their lives will never be the same again.
PART 3: DOMESTICATION
Chitose has a sunburn on his ass. Will aloe help that?
Yukimura snickered and showed the text to the other nurses. "How cruel should I be?" he asked them.
"Say a mixture of Vaseline and lemon juice," Mari suggested. Mari had been in the front row of the final Nagoya Dome concert with a sign that read "Nurses 4 Chitose" that her favorite idol completely ignored. Mari texted Yukimura that night to inform him that she was swearing off The Run Around but would still be civil to Shiraishi when he came around.
Mari says Vaseline and lemon juice should do the trick.
"There, I told him." He felt bad for Chitose, but he only saw the idol every now and then. Mari brought baked goods in once a month.
You're kidding, right?
"He's not falling for it. Think of something better."
"How about facial astringent?" Yuriko suggested.
Yukimura texted the suggestion and received a heart emoticon in reply. "That'll do it," he told his fellow nurses.
"How did he even get a sunburn like that?" Mari asked. "Not that I'm interested."
"You probably don't want to know." Yukimura gathered a stack of papers that needed to go to radiology. "I'll deliver these and be right back." On the way, he took out his phone and hit the first entry on his autodial.
Shiraishi picked up on the first ring. "He was in some kind of speedo and fell asleep while he was tanning on the roof."
"I didn't call to ask about Chitose's sunburned ass. When are you coming home?" He ducked into an empty exam room. "You've been gone two weeks already."
"The guys wanted to hang out a little before we came back, and Osamu will only send the plane for us once, so I'm stuck for two more days." There was a scratching sound for a moment. "I gotta go soon. I'll call you tonight."
"Usual time?"
"Yeah. And don't forget, our show starts next week. We promised your grandma we'd call her the next morning to see how she liked it."
The idea of Yukimura's grandmother watching them get all sweet on each other on screen was only slightly more embarrassing than when Yukimura and Shiraishi accidentally embraced at the airport when Shiraishi left for Okinawa. The angles on the paparazzi photos made it look like they were making out, which was a lie. It was a quick peck on the lips if anything, and it was only because the floor had just been waxed and Yukimura slipped a bit.
"Talk to you tonight," Yukimura said before disconnecting the call. Gripping the radiology referrals, he continued about his day.
*****
At this point in the tour, Shiraishi was usually surrounded by beautiful men and women, all of whom were vying for his momentary affections. He would select a few of the nicer looking ones, take them back to the hotel, and forget them the next day.
"Wow! They're huge!"
Now, Shiriashi was at the aquarium with Jirou and Kirihara, wishing they could take a plane home so he could make sure Seiichi was eating and wasn't going to pass out from overexertion. Yuriko sent him a few concerned texts in the last couple days and, while Seiichi claimed to be eating the frozen meals Shiraishi left for him, who knew if he was staying up late watching the sports channel instead of getting proper rest.
"They're whale sharks, Akaya. They're supposed to be huge."
And what if some jackass came into the hospital and tried to make a pass at Seiichi again? And what if Yukimura 'accidentally' ran a supply cart over his foot again? Someone would need to be there to calm Yukimura down, and those vindictive women he worked with weren't a good influence.
"Why does he keep getting that look on his face? Is he constipated?"
Maybe he should just pay for his own flight back. He had the money.
No, he already told Seiichi he wasn't coming back for two days. Getting home early would make it look like he thought Yukimura couldn't take care of himself, which was more or less what he thought, but he didn't want Yukimura to know that was what he was thinking.
"He's not constipated; he's just in love and too stupid to realize it."
Seiichi said he'd never been to Okinawa. Maybe he'd have Yukimura come along on the next tour. By then, Seiichi would have plenty of paid vacation built up. And, if not, Shiraishi had more than enough to cover. He'd have to pass it off as a birthday present or something, but that shouldn't be too hard…once he found out when Yukimura's birthday was.
"Shiraishi's not even listening to us, is he?"
Hearing his name, Shiraishi turned to Kirihara. "Did you need something?"
Kirihara looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, as though Shiraishi were a puzzle he was trying to put together. "Come look at the whale sharks," he said. "They're huge."
"Of course they are," Shiraishi said. "They're whale sharks. They're supposed to be huge."
*****
Despite how it might appear, Yukimura was not anxious for Shiraishi to come home. He didn't really care that the plane out of Okinawa was delayed and that delay could have been an engine issue that would ultimately lead to the plane plunging into the ocean. The odds were that Shiraishi would return with his excessive luggage, complain that his back hurt because of impractical choreography, and flop onto the couch for a few hours to catch up on his ridiculous dramas.
"You look like you're going to be sick. Need a checkup?" Yuriko slinked toward him with her stethoscope poised.
"I'm fine." Yuriko didn't need to know about the talking to his grandmother had given him the night before and how, after hearing her disappointment in him for keeping Shiraishi on a floor in his somewhat cramped apartment, Seiichi was trying to figure out what, exactly, he was supposed to do to make his grandmother happy.
"Jackal did an interview for AnAn while they were in Okinawa." Mari held up her phone. "There's a snippet on the blog." Mari's phone was older and the screen was cracked in three places, making the photo of Jackal look as if he had a very angry unibrow. "Is he as good looking in person?" Mari asked, pulling the phone to her chest.
"I'm not really sure how to answer that." Yukimura thought about his limited interactions with Jackal. Most of them consisted of Jackal lamenting his fate as the only rational one in the group. "His head is a bit shinier and he smiles a bit less."
"Ooh! He's really the serious type?"
"Sure." The plane was due to land in thirty minutes. Maybe he should check the airline's website and make sure everything was okay. He didn't get off work for another three hours, and Shiraishi was supposed to come pick him up. If the plane was going to be late, then he needed to catch a ride home with one of the girls because he didn't bring his bus card with him.
"I read online that you and Shiraishi are going to buy a house. Is Jackal coming to the housewarming? Can I come?"
Yukimura turned to face Mari. "What?"
Mari went to the nurse station computer and pulled up a news blog. "Sources say Shiraishi and his boyfriend are planning a joint purchase of property within the next month."
"Their sources are incorrect. My lease isn't even up for another four months." But what then? Should he renew? Should he try to transfer to a two bedroom apartment in the same complex? Was Shiraishi getting tired of dealing with him? Would he have to start cooking his own meals again?
"Great, now he's freaking out. Thanks, Mari." Yuriko grabbed Yukimura by the shoulders and moved him toward the supply cart. "Let's make sure all the exam rooms are prepped."
Seiichi nodded and began pushing the cart out of its corner storage cubby. Taking in a deep breath, he let the stench of antiseptic wash away his worries and focused once more on the care of his patients.
*****
"I will kill you. I will actually kill you." When Shiraishi landed, the first thing he saw on his phone was a text from Yukimura's grandmother wondering if their new house was going to be closer to the hospital or, even better, if they were relocating to Hokkaido. Now Shiraishi was on the phone with Hanamura, who "arranged for some helpful misinformation" to be leaked to the press because she "thought it might help smooth things over" with Yukimura, whom the company deemed "at risk for early termination of contract."
"We've enlisted the aid of a realtor and have several lovely and well secured locations you might like to consider," Hanamura said. Shiraishi could hear her snide laughter churning in the back of her throat, ready to be released when she hung up the phone.
"We're fine the way we are. Leave us alone." Besides, Shiraishi already had some places in mind; he was just waiting for the right time to bring it up. The right time was when the lease renewal came up in a few months, not via the HoTTalk celebrity blog.
"Please understand that we are concerned about your relationship and only want the best for you. As role models for the young men of Japan, you are serving as a beacon of hope-"
"I wrote that. I know all about the beacon of hope for a more inclusive and tolerant future."
"Good. I'm glad we're both working toward the same objective."
There was no way Shiraishi's objectives and the objectives of Osamu Entertainment were, in any way, in alignment. "I have a plan already in motion. It will go best if you simply leave us alone."
"Our sources indicate that his lease is up in four months. We expect to be reserving your moving truck in three." Hanamura hung up on him.
The phone rang before Shiraishi could put it back in his pocket. He looked at the caller ID. "Hi, Mom."
*****
Everything was pink. The carpet was pink. The drapes were pink. The absurd little Pomeranian yipping at Yukimura's ankle was pink.
"I'm sorry about this," Shiraishi said for the third time since they'd entered Shiraishi's childhood home. "When my grandparents died, she redecorated everything. I wanted to call a designer in, but she said she wanted to do it herself."
"It's fine." In the very unlikely event that he and Shiraishi decided, for the purposes of maintaining their financial agreement, to pursue joint custody of a residence, they were never letting Shiraishi's mother assist with the decorating. "I'm surprised your father let her do it."
"Dad skipped out when I was seven. Turns out he had another family on the side in Fukui. That's why mom took me to the talent search." Shiraishi's eyes softened and he looked down toward the hall his mother had disappeared into. "We moved up from Osaka and stayed here with my grandparents. It was really hard on her for a while, but she started dating again five years ago. No keepers yet, though."
"Kuranosuke, are you gossiping about your mother's love life when the woman who raised you had to hear about your new partner from a grocery store tabloid? Get in this kitchen and help me bring in brunch."
"Don't tell her it's all fake," Shiraishi whispered as he rose from the couch. "Please."
Yukimura grabbed Shiraishi's wrist before he could move too far away. "Is it all fake?" he asked. He knew, for his part, that part of it certainly was. He thought Shiraishi's dancing was laughable and his bandmates were obnoxious. He held Shiraishi's sweaty hand as they walked down the street and tolerated Shiraishi's heavy arm on his shoulder because the press photos were helping to pay for bills that some families couldn't shoulder alone. All of that was as fake as the rhinestones on Shiraishi's concert costumes.
Less fake were the quiet nights on the couch watching TV and eating whatever dish Shiraishi saw on the morning cooking shows he watched. Surprisingly honest were the stupid smiles Seiichi caught himself giving the bootlegged Kuranosuke keychain that one of the doctors had given him because he'd bought it for his daughter and she'd already had it. Deeply authentic was the small worm of an idea that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work for real.
"Are we really going to have this conversation on my mother's couch when she's screaming at me to come get some finger sandwiches?" And then Shiraishi turned his hand so it was holding Yukimura's. "I've got a few brochures for some nice houses and condos we should look at. Show you when we get home?"
Yukimura wanted to look up, he really did, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look anywhere but at his knees. "When we get home," he agreed.
*****
Shiraishi tried to avoid watching himself on TV. Not only did the camera add weight, but the lines he was saying sounded a lot better when filming scenes disjointedly than when they were strung together. Despite this, he'd promised Seiichi's grandmother that they'd watch the show and call her tomorrow to talk about it.
"I don't remember filming that," Seiichi said as the opening credit sequence began. For a tenth of a second, Yukimura and Shiraishi were in a heated embrace.
"It's one of the takes from that scene near the fountain." The fountain scene had been particularly awkward to shoot and, thank goodness, wouldn't be airing until the last episode. In the scene, Makoto, Yukimura's character, finally acknowledged his love for Romero, Shiraishi's character, and there was an embrace and kiss sequence that required a crane, a camera track, and an antiquated boom box piping out the montage music so they could choreograph their movements properly. Seiichi kept trying to take over the kiss (instinct, he said), so they had to redo the scene at least fifteen times before they had a shot the director was happy with. Shiraishi may also have accidentally grabbed Seiichi's ass a few times, but none of the cameras were focused there, so it wasn't a big deal.
"I don't want to watch this." Yukimura turned off the TV.
Shiraishi turned the TV back on. "It's your big debut. We're watching it." He took the batteries out of the remote and tossed them across the room. "You'll be mad at yourself later if you have to lie to your grandmother about watching it." He scooted over until his side was pressed against Seiichi's. "I'll get the ice cream at the next commercial."
"We're out of ice cream."
There was something mesmerizing in the way Yukimura's eyebrows knit together when he was pouting. First they would fly up, as though Seiichi were surprised at his own displeasure, then they would dive down and in, wrinkling his lower forehead. Then his lips would follow, pursing together into a tight little bundle.
"I bought some when I went to the grocery store this morning." He'd never noticed it much before, but Seiichi's skin was always so cool against his.
"Did you get butter pecan? We were talking last week, and I-"
Seiichi's lips were dry. Shiraishi would be sure to start pestering Yukimura to drink more water; it was unacceptable for a nurse to be dehydrated. They hadn't felt this chapped when they were filming, but that might have been the lipstick the makeup artist used.
When Yukimura's fingers slid into Shiraishi's hair, Shiraishi wanted to protest that he'd just gotten a deep conditioning, but when his lips moved to form the protest, the fingers tugged a little while the hand pushed a little, and then Shiraishi couldn't remember what he'd been about to say.
In the end, they missed the show completely.
*****
"You can pack yourself into those little pants, but you can't pack the utensils into a box. How is that?" Yukimura used a cooking chopstick to point at the mangled mess in the box labeled Kitchen 1A.
"It's useless to waste our time sorting them because they're going to jostle in shipment. It's more efficient to place them in the small box and then put the small box into a larger box." Shiraishi pointed to the packing list he'd written on the back of a ramen delivery menu.
"The knives are going to cut the chopsticks. My mother sent me those chopsticks when I moved in here." Yukimura grabbed a stack of towels from Kitchen 3. "All you have to do is wrap them in a towel. Why is that so hard?"
"Towels and utensils go in different boxes." Shiraishi again pointed to his list.
Seiichi continued to wrap his utensils. "Just change Kitchen 1A into Kitchen 7 and have it be utensils and towels."
"Then what are we going to put in Kitchen 3? Once you take out the towels, all it has is the tea kettle."
The tea kettle was a gift from Yukimura's uncle and rusting on the inside. Seiichi only kept it because it was on a high shelf and too much of a bother to recycle. "Toss the tea kettle in with the recyclables; we've got the electric kettle anyway. We'll put towels and utensils in Kitchen 3."
Shiraishi went to the refrigerator and consulted their trash pickup schedule. "When is the metal recyclables day? I don't see it listed."
"We can just take it to a convenience store and leave it near the trash can." When he was younger, Seiichi was responsible for disposing of strange items for his mother so that she wouldn't lose face in the neighborhood by getting her recyclables rejected. Leaving non-burnable trash at the convenience store was one of his special skills.
"I'm a public figure; I can't just ditch my trash at a convenience store. What kind of headline would that make?"
"One that would lead to reform in our garbage disposal system, I would hope. Do you have any idea what a pain it is at the hospital to dispose of all our waste products? We have seven containers at the nurse's station alone." The poor cafeteria had it worse; they had to sort through the bins of food and other matter or risk the hospital being fined.
"Can we please focus on getting the kitchen packed? The moving company is coming the day after tomorrow and we haven't sealed a single box yet."
If Yukimura were the only one packing, everything would be done by now. Saying that out loud would hurt Shiraishi's feelings, though. Kuranosuke spent three days creating their Master Moving Agenda And Boxing Manifest. He took inventory of everything in the apartment and allocated each item into a box to which he then gave very uncreative names. Seiichi was starting to doubt that Shiraishi had ever actually moved a household on his own.
"I'll finish in the kitchen," Yukimura said, still wrapping utensils. "Why don't you start in on the living room?" Shiraishi bought vacuum seal bags for their throw pillows and blankets. He claimed they would save space in the boxes. Yukimura'd used those bags the last time he moved and, after an hour of trying to get the vacuum and the bag to cooperate, he vowed he would never use them again. Pillows and blankets should be shoved into a box, held closed, and then taped with enough tape to keep the box closed through a nuclear winter.
"I'll leave the kitchen list on the counter." Shiraishi slid the list on the scant amount of counter right in front of Yukimura's utensil wrapping station.
When Shiraishi was out of sight, Yukimura quickly finished wrapping and then set about placing kitchen items into boxes. What had taken Shiraishi's list 11 boxes to pack only took Yukimura 5.
*****
The new house was horrible. Not only were the hardwood floors considerably more drafty than the decaying carpet in the apartment, but the house was big enough to allow Shiraishi his own room. Seeing his things brought in from storage was awkward and, while Shiraishi wouldn't admit it aloud, he was having trouble falling asleep in the eerie quiet.
"Morning," Yukimura called from the kitchen table, his eyes glued to the news on the tablet he'd stolen from Shiraishi.
Seiichi didn't seem to have any problems sleeping. If anything, he was looking extra radiant now that they were fully moved in. Shiraishi hoped it was because the house was within walking distance of the hospital and Seiichi's commute was considerably shorter, but he had a gut twisting suspicion that the reason Seiichi was so bright eyed these days was because he no longer had to trip over Shiraishi's futon or deal with Shiraishi's occasional snoring.
Shiraishi ambled to the fridge and pulled out the ingredients for breakfast. "The usual?"
"Yes, please."
Was this how it was going to be from now on? Were they just going to see each other at breakfast and dinner? Maybe Seiichi would get a TV for his room, too, and they wouldn't even be sharing that time. "Two or three eggs?"
"Two. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so my stomach's a bit upset."
"Oh?" That he felt somewhat hopeful at the news was a bit pathetic. "I've been having some problems, too," he offered when Seiichi didn't say anything else. "It takes a while to get used to a new place."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's it."
Shiraishi whisked the eggs with a little extra force. "Yeah, must be."
*****
"I need to buy a new bed," Yukimura announced while he and Shiraishi watched the final episode of their drama. "My mattress is losing its firmness. I was thinking of getting a bigger frame while I was at it since my room is bigger." Despite his casual tone, Yukimura'd practiced the words in his head over and over for the last week. Shiraishi mentioned that having a home office would mean he wouldn't have to go into the main office as much, but they didn't have the space at the moment now that both Yukimura and Shiraishi's things were in the house.
"Make sure you get a better quality mattress this time. The funds from that talk show we did should come through soon." A commercial came on and Shiraishi closed his eyes and leaned his head on Yukimura's shoulder. "I'm so glad this thing's over. Now maybe the other guys will shut up with all the vampire jokes."
Seiichi tilted his head to rest against Shiraishi's. "And maybe everyone who comes into the hospital will stop reciting all your lines at me." It was cute the first ten or twenty times, but now even the creepy hobos were running up to him. "Anyway, if you want to move back into my room once I get the bed, we can turn yours into an office." Yukimura's headrest moved.
"We got rid of the futon." Shiraishi was either playing dumb or really was an idiot. These days it was pretty hard to tell one from the other.
"I'm aware." Maybe he shouldn't have brought it up. He was pretty sure it was what Shiraishi wanted, what with all the "I can't sleep it's so quiet here" comments, but maybe what Kuranosuke really wanted was a fountain or a white noise machine.
"We'd be sharing a room again."
"That was the idea, yes."
Shiraishi used a finger to guide Yukimura's chin until they were looking directly at one another. "Sharing a bed."
"You should have been a detective; you're wasted as an idol." Yukimura found himself smiling despite the rapid hammering of his heart in his chest.
"I just wanted to make sure you were saying what I was hearing." Shiraishi shifted in closer, wrapping his arm around Yukimura and pulling him in tight. "We can go look for something tomorrow after you get off of work. I'll draft up a floorplan for our room." Shiraishi buried his face in Yukimura's hair. "Our room in our house," he whispered.
"Quiet. The show's back on."
On the screen, Romero ran across a plaza to fold Makoto in his arms. As a fountain roared behind them, they embraced.
"I've waited so long to be here with you like this," Shiraishi whispered in Yukimura's ear in sync with the TV. "You can't imagine how I've dreamed of this moment."
Yukimura and Makoto turned as one. "I never imagined I would feel like this," they said. "I feel you now, feel you so deep in my soul that I know nothing, not even death, will keep us apart."
END
Author: whisper132
Recipient: chouta_angel
Pairing/Characters: Shiraishi/Yukimura, a sprinkling of Jirou/Kirihara, Chitose, Jackal, Osamu
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This may induce "the feels." If you are uncomfortable with "the feels," please speak to your physician prior to interacting with "the feels."
Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff, the plot would be very different. Very. Different.
Summary: When a member of Japan's hottest idol group, The Run Around, meets a sassy nurse, the entertainment industry is turned on its head, and their lives will never be the same again.
PART 3: DOMESTICATION
Chitose has a sunburn on his ass. Will aloe help that?
Yukimura snickered and showed the text to the other nurses. "How cruel should I be?" he asked them.
"Say a mixture of Vaseline and lemon juice," Mari suggested. Mari had been in the front row of the final Nagoya Dome concert with a sign that read "Nurses 4 Chitose" that her favorite idol completely ignored. Mari texted Yukimura that night to inform him that she was swearing off The Run Around but would still be civil to Shiraishi when he came around.
Mari says Vaseline and lemon juice should do the trick.
"There, I told him." He felt bad for Chitose, but he only saw the idol every now and then. Mari brought baked goods in once a month.
You're kidding, right?
"He's not falling for it. Think of something better."
"How about facial astringent?" Yuriko suggested.
Yukimura texted the suggestion and received a heart emoticon in reply. "That'll do it," he told his fellow nurses.
"How did he even get a sunburn like that?" Mari asked. "Not that I'm interested."
"You probably don't want to know." Yukimura gathered a stack of papers that needed to go to radiology. "I'll deliver these and be right back." On the way, he took out his phone and hit the first entry on his autodial.
Shiraishi picked up on the first ring. "He was in some kind of speedo and fell asleep while he was tanning on the roof."
"I didn't call to ask about Chitose's sunburned ass. When are you coming home?" He ducked into an empty exam room. "You've been gone two weeks already."
"The guys wanted to hang out a little before we came back, and Osamu will only send the plane for us once, so I'm stuck for two more days." There was a scratching sound for a moment. "I gotta go soon. I'll call you tonight."
"Usual time?"
"Yeah. And don't forget, our show starts next week. We promised your grandma we'd call her the next morning to see how she liked it."
The idea of Yukimura's grandmother watching them get all sweet on each other on screen was only slightly more embarrassing than when Yukimura and Shiraishi accidentally embraced at the airport when Shiraishi left for Okinawa. The angles on the paparazzi photos made it look like they were making out, which was a lie. It was a quick peck on the lips if anything, and it was only because the floor had just been waxed and Yukimura slipped a bit.
"Talk to you tonight," Yukimura said before disconnecting the call. Gripping the radiology referrals, he continued about his day.
*****
At this point in the tour, Shiraishi was usually surrounded by beautiful men and women, all of whom were vying for his momentary affections. He would select a few of the nicer looking ones, take them back to the hotel, and forget them the next day.
"Wow! They're huge!"
Now, Shiriashi was at the aquarium with Jirou and Kirihara, wishing they could take a plane home so he could make sure Seiichi was eating and wasn't going to pass out from overexertion. Yuriko sent him a few concerned texts in the last couple days and, while Seiichi claimed to be eating the frozen meals Shiraishi left for him, who knew if he was staying up late watching the sports channel instead of getting proper rest.
"They're whale sharks, Akaya. They're supposed to be huge."
And what if some jackass came into the hospital and tried to make a pass at Seiichi again? And what if Yukimura 'accidentally' ran a supply cart over his foot again? Someone would need to be there to calm Yukimura down, and those vindictive women he worked with weren't a good influence.
"Why does he keep getting that look on his face? Is he constipated?"
Maybe he should just pay for his own flight back. He had the money.
No, he already told Seiichi he wasn't coming back for two days. Getting home early would make it look like he thought Yukimura couldn't take care of himself, which was more or less what he thought, but he didn't want Yukimura to know that was what he was thinking.
"He's not constipated; he's just in love and too stupid to realize it."
Seiichi said he'd never been to Okinawa. Maybe he'd have Yukimura come along on the next tour. By then, Seiichi would have plenty of paid vacation built up. And, if not, Shiraishi had more than enough to cover. He'd have to pass it off as a birthday present or something, but that shouldn't be too hard…once he found out when Yukimura's birthday was.
"Shiraishi's not even listening to us, is he?"
Hearing his name, Shiraishi turned to Kirihara. "Did you need something?"
Kirihara looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, as though Shiraishi were a puzzle he was trying to put together. "Come look at the whale sharks," he said. "They're huge."
"Of course they are," Shiraishi said. "They're whale sharks. They're supposed to be huge."
*****
Despite how it might appear, Yukimura was not anxious for Shiraishi to come home. He didn't really care that the plane out of Okinawa was delayed and that delay could have been an engine issue that would ultimately lead to the plane plunging into the ocean. The odds were that Shiraishi would return with his excessive luggage, complain that his back hurt because of impractical choreography, and flop onto the couch for a few hours to catch up on his ridiculous dramas.
"You look like you're going to be sick. Need a checkup?" Yuriko slinked toward him with her stethoscope poised.
"I'm fine." Yuriko didn't need to know about the talking to his grandmother had given him the night before and how, after hearing her disappointment in him for keeping Shiraishi on a floor in his somewhat cramped apartment, Seiichi was trying to figure out what, exactly, he was supposed to do to make his grandmother happy.
"Jackal did an interview for AnAn while they were in Okinawa." Mari held up her phone. "There's a snippet on the blog." Mari's phone was older and the screen was cracked in three places, making the photo of Jackal look as if he had a very angry unibrow. "Is he as good looking in person?" Mari asked, pulling the phone to her chest.
"I'm not really sure how to answer that." Yukimura thought about his limited interactions with Jackal. Most of them consisted of Jackal lamenting his fate as the only rational one in the group. "His head is a bit shinier and he smiles a bit less."
"Ooh! He's really the serious type?"
"Sure." The plane was due to land in thirty minutes. Maybe he should check the airline's website and make sure everything was okay. He didn't get off work for another three hours, and Shiraishi was supposed to come pick him up. If the plane was going to be late, then he needed to catch a ride home with one of the girls because he didn't bring his bus card with him.
"I read online that you and Shiraishi are going to buy a house. Is Jackal coming to the housewarming? Can I come?"
Yukimura turned to face Mari. "What?"
Mari went to the nurse station computer and pulled up a news blog. "Sources say Shiraishi and his boyfriend are planning a joint purchase of property within the next month."
"Their sources are incorrect. My lease isn't even up for another four months." But what then? Should he renew? Should he try to transfer to a two bedroom apartment in the same complex? Was Shiraishi getting tired of dealing with him? Would he have to start cooking his own meals again?
"Great, now he's freaking out. Thanks, Mari." Yuriko grabbed Yukimura by the shoulders and moved him toward the supply cart. "Let's make sure all the exam rooms are prepped."
Seiichi nodded and began pushing the cart out of its corner storage cubby. Taking in a deep breath, he let the stench of antiseptic wash away his worries and focused once more on the care of his patients.
*****
"I will kill you. I will actually kill you." When Shiraishi landed, the first thing he saw on his phone was a text from Yukimura's grandmother wondering if their new house was going to be closer to the hospital or, even better, if they were relocating to Hokkaido. Now Shiraishi was on the phone with Hanamura, who "arranged for some helpful misinformation" to be leaked to the press because she "thought it might help smooth things over" with Yukimura, whom the company deemed "at risk for early termination of contract."
"We've enlisted the aid of a realtor and have several lovely and well secured locations you might like to consider," Hanamura said. Shiraishi could hear her snide laughter churning in the back of her throat, ready to be released when she hung up the phone.
"We're fine the way we are. Leave us alone." Besides, Shiraishi already had some places in mind; he was just waiting for the right time to bring it up. The right time was when the lease renewal came up in a few months, not via the HoTTalk celebrity blog.
"Please understand that we are concerned about your relationship and only want the best for you. As role models for the young men of Japan, you are serving as a beacon of hope-"
"I wrote that. I know all about the beacon of hope for a more inclusive and tolerant future."
"Good. I'm glad we're both working toward the same objective."
There was no way Shiraishi's objectives and the objectives of Osamu Entertainment were, in any way, in alignment. "I have a plan already in motion. It will go best if you simply leave us alone."
"Our sources indicate that his lease is up in four months. We expect to be reserving your moving truck in three." Hanamura hung up on him.
The phone rang before Shiraishi could put it back in his pocket. He looked at the caller ID. "Hi, Mom."
*****
Everything was pink. The carpet was pink. The drapes were pink. The absurd little Pomeranian yipping at Yukimura's ankle was pink.
"I'm sorry about this," Shiraishi said for the third time since they'd entered Shiraishi's childhood home. "When my grandparents died, she redecorated everything. I wanted to call a designer in, but she said she wanted to do it herself."
"It's fine." In the very unlikely event that he and Shiraishi decided, for the purposes of maintaining their financial agreement, to pursue joint custody of a residence, they were never letting Shiraishi's mother assist with the decorating. "I'm surprised your father let her do it."
"Dad skipped out when I was seven. Turns out he had another family on the side in Fukui. That's why mom took me to the talent search." Shiraishi's eyes softened and he looked down toward the hall his mother had disappeared into. "We moved up from Osaka and stayed here with my grandparents. It was really hard on her for a while, but she started dating again five years ago. No keepers yet, though."
"Kuranosuke, are you gossiping about your mother's love life when the woman who raised you had to hear about your new partner from a grocery store tabloid? Get in this kitchen and help me bring in brunch."
"Don't tell her it's all fake," Shiraishi whispered as he rose from the couch. "Please."
Yukimura grabbed Shiraishi's wrist before he could move too far away. "Is it all fake?" he asked. He knew, for his part, that part of it certainly was. He thought Shiraishi's dancing was laughable and his bandmates were obnoxious. He held Shiraishi's sweaty hand as they walked down the street and tolerated Shiraishi's heavy arm on his shoulder because the press photos were helping to pay for bills that some families couldn't shoulder alone. All of that was as fake as the rhinestones on Shiraishi's concert costumes.
Less fake were the quiet nights on the couch watching TV and eating whatever dish Shiraishi saw on the morning cooking shows he watched. Surprisingly honest were the stupid smiles Seiichi caught himself giving the bootlegged Kuranosuke keychain that one of the doctors had given him because he'd bought it for his daughter and she'd already had it. Deeply authentic was the small worm of an idea that maybe, just maybe, they could make this work for real.
"Are we really going to have this conversation on my mother's couch when she's screaming at me to come get some finger sandwiches?" And then Shiraishi turned his hand so it was holding Yukimura's. "I've got a few brochures for some nice houses and condos we should look at. Show you when we get home?"
Yukimura wanted to look up, he really did, but he couldn't quite bring himself to look anywhere but at his knees. "When we get home," he agreed.
*****
Shiraishi tried to avoid watching himself on TV. Not only did the camera add weight, but the lines he was saying sounded a lot better when filming scenes disjointedly than when they were strung together. Despite this, he'd promised Seiichi's grandmother that they'd watch the show and call her tomorrow to talk about it.
"I don't remember filming that," Seiichi said as the opening credit sequence began. For a tenth of a second, Yukimura and Shiraishi were in a heated embrace.
"It's one of the takes from that scene near the fountain." The fountain scene had been particularly awkward to shoot and, thank goodness, wouldn't be airing until the last episode. In the scene, Makoto, Yukimura's character, finally acknowledged his love for Romero, Shiraishi's character, and there was an embrace and kiss sequence that required a crane, a camera track, and an antiquated boom box piping out the montage music so they could choreograph their movements properly. Seiichi kept trying to take over the kiss (instinct, he said), so they had to redo the scene at least fifteen times before they had a shot the director was happy with. Shiraishi may also have accidentally grabbed Seiichi's ass a few times, but none of the cameras were focused there, so it wasn't a big deal.
"I don't want to watch this." Yukimura turned off the TV.
Shiraishi turned the TV back on. "It's your big debut. We're watching it." He took the batteries out of the remote and tossed them across the room. "You'll be mad at yourself later if you have to lie to your grandmother about watching it." He scooted over until his side was pressed against Seiichi's. "I'll get the ice cream at the next commercial."
"We're out of ice cream."
There was something mesmerizing in the way Yukimura's eyebrows knit together when he was pouting. First they would fly up, as though Seiichi were surprised at his own displeasure, then they would dive down and in, wrinkling his lower forehead. Then his lips would follow, pursing together into a tight little bundle.
"I bought some when I went to the grocery store this morning." He'd never noticed it much before, but Seiichi's skin was always so cool against his.
"Did you get butter pecan? We were talking last week, and I-"
Seiichi's lips were dry. Shiraishi would be sure to start pestering Yukimura to drink more water; it was unacceptable for a nurse to be dehydrated. They hadn't felt this chapped when they were filming, but that might have been the lipstick the makeup artist used.
When Yukimura's fingers slid into Shiraishi's hair, Shiraishi wanted to protest that he'd just gotten a deep conditioning, but when his lips moved to form the protest, the fingers tugged a little while the hand pushed a little, and then Shiraishi couldn't remember what he'd been about to say.
In the end, they missed the show completely.
*****
"You can pack yourself into those little pants, but you can't pack the utensils into a box. How is that?" Yukimura used a cooking chopstick to point at the mangled mess in the box labeled Kitchen 1A.
"It's useless to waste our time sorting them because they're going to jostle in shipment. It's more efficient to place them in the small box and then put the small box into a larger box." Shiraishi pointed to the packing list he'd written on the back of a ramen delivery menu.
"The knives are going to cut the chopsticks. My mother sent me those chopsticks when I moved in here." Yukimura grabbed a stack of towels from Kitchen 3. "All you have to do is wrap them in a towel. Why is that so hard?"
"Towels and utensils go in different boxes." Shiraishi again pointed to his list.
Seiichi continued to wrap his utensils. "Just change Kitchen 1A into Kitchen 7 and have it be utensils and towels."
"Then what are we going to put in Kitchen 3? Once you take out the towels, all it has is the tea kettle."
The tea kettle was a gift from Yukimura's uncle and rusting on the inside. Seiichi only kept it because it was on a high shelf and too much of a bother to recycle. "Toss the tea kettle in with the recyclables; we've got the electric kettle anyway. We'll put towels and utensils in Kitchen 3."
Shiraishi went to the refrigerator and consulted their trash pickup schedule. "When is the metal recyclables day? I don't see it listed."
"We can just take it to a convenience store and leave it near the trash can." When he was younger, Seiichi was responsible for disposing of strange items for his mother so that she wouldn't lose face in the neighborhood by getting her recyclables rejected. Leaving non-burnable trash at the convenience store was one of his special skills.
"I'm a public figure; I can't just ditch my trash at a convenience store. What kind of headline would that make?"
"One that would lead to reform in our garbage disposal system, I would hope. Do you have any idea what a pain it is at the hospital to dispose of all our waste products? We have seven containers at the nurse's station alone." The poor cafeteria had it worse; they had to sort through the bins of food and other matter or risk the hospital being fined.
"Can we please focus on getting the kitchen packed? The moving company is coming the day after tomorrow and we haven't sealed a single box yet."
If Yukimura were the only one packing, everything would be done by now. Saying that out loud would hurt Shiraishi's feelings, though. Kuranosuke spent three days creating their Master Moving Agenda And Boxing Manifest. He took inventory of everything in the apartment and allocated each item into a box to which he then gave very uncreative names. Seiichi was starting to doubt that Shiraishi had ever actually moved a household on his own.
"I'll finish in the kitchen," Yukimura said, still wrapping utensils. "Why don't you start in on the living room?" Shiraishi bought vacuum seal bags for their throw pillows and blankets. He claimed they would save space in the boxes. Yukimura'd used those bags the last time he moved and, after an hour of trying to get the vacuum and the bag to cooperate, he vowed he would never use them again. Pillows and blankets should be shoved into a box, held closed, and then taped with enough tape to keep the box closed through a nuclear winter.
"I'll leave the kitchen list on the counter." Shiraishi slid the list on the scant amount of counter right in front of Yukimura's utensil wrapping station.
When Shiraishi was out of sight, Yukimura quickly finished wrapping and then set about placing kitchen items into boxes. What had taken Shiraishi's list 11 boxes to pack only took Yukimura 5.
*****
The new house was horrible. Not only were the hardwood floors considerably more drafty than the decaying carpet in the apartment, but the house was big enough to allow Shiraishi his own room. Seeing his things brought in from storage was awkward and, while Shiraishi wouldn't admit it aloud, he was having trouble falling asleep in the eerie quiet.
"Morning," Yukimura called from the kitchen table, his eyes glued to the news on the tablet he'd stolen from Shiraishi.
Seiichi didn't seem to have any problems sleeping. If anything, he was looking extra radiant now that they were fully moved in. Shiraishi hoped it was because the house was within walking distance of the hospital and Seiichi's commute was considerably shorter, but he had a gut twisting suspicion that the reason Seiichi was so bright eyed these days was because he no longer had to trip over Shiraishi's futon or deal with Shiraishi's occasional snoring.
Shiraishi ambled to the fridge and pulled out the ingredients for breakfast. "The usual?"
"Yes, please."
Was this how it was going to be from now on? Were they just going to see each other at breakfast and dinner? Maybe Seiichi would get a TV for his room, too, and they wouldn't even be sharing that time. "Two or three eggs?"
"Two. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so my stomach's a bit upset."
"Oh?" That he felt somewhat hopeful at the news was a bit pathetic. "I've been having some problems, too," he offered when Seiichi didn't say anything else. "It takes a while to get used to a new place."
"Yeah, I'm sure that's it."
Shiraishi whisked the eggs with a little extra force. "Yeah, must be."
*****
"I need to buy a new bed," Yukimura announced while he and Shiraishi watched the final episode of their drama. "My mattress is losing its firmness. I was thinking of getting a bigger frame while I was at it since my room is bigger." Despite his casual tone, Yukimura'd practiced the words in his head over and over for the last week. Shiraishi mentioned that having a home office would mean he wouldn't have to go into the main office as much, but they didn't have the space at the moment now that both Yukimura and Shiraishi's things were in the house.
"Make sure you get a better quality mattress this time. The funds from that talk show we did should come through soon." A commercial came on and Shiraishi closed his eyes and leaned his head on Yukimura's shoulder. "I'm so glad this thing's over. Now maybe the other guys will shut up with all the vampire jokes."
Seiichi tilted his head to rest against Shiraishi's. "And maybe everyone who comes into the hospital will stop reciting all your lines at me." It was cute the first ten or twenty times, but now even the creepy hobos were running up to him. "Anyway, if you want to move back into my room once I get the bed, we can turn yours into an office." Yukimura's headrest moved.
"We got rid of the futon." Shiraishi was either playing dumb or really was an idiot. These days it was pretty hard to tell one from the other.
"I'm aware." Maybe he shouldn't have brought it up. He was pretty sure it was what Shiraishi wanted, what with all the "I can't sleep it's so quiet here" comments, but maybe what Kuranosuke really wanted was a fountain or a white noise machine.
"We'd be sharing a room again."
"That was the idea, yes."
Shiraishi used a finger to guide Yukimura's chin until they were looking directly at one another. "Sharing a bed."
"You should have been a detective; you're wasted as an idol." Yukimura found himself smiling despite the rapid hammering of his heart in his chest.
"I just wanted to make sure you were saying what I was hearing." Shiraishi shifted in closer, wrapping his arm around Yukimura and pulling him in tight. "We can go look for something tomorrow after you get off of work. I'll draft up a floorplan for our room." Shiraishi buried his face in Yukimura's hair. "Our room in our house," he whispered.
"Quiet. The show's back on."
On the screen, Romero ran across a plaza to fold Makoto in his arms. As a fountain roared behind them, they embraced.
"I've waited so long to be here with you like this," Shiraishi whispered in Yukimura's ear in sync with the TV. "You can't imagine how I've dreamed of this moment."
Yukimura and Makoto turned as one. "I never imagined I would feel like this," they said. "I feel you now, feel you so deep in my soul that I know nothing, not even death, will keep us apart."
END