Kitayama/Senga - Strike - Oneshot
Title: Strike
Author: TsumetaiKaze
Band/Pairing: Kitayama/Senga [Kis-My-Ft2]
Genre: Romance, humour
Rating: PG-13 (for suggestiveness?)
Warnings: None, except maybe Fail!Senga
Disclaimer: HAH! Nice one. No.
Summary: He stared up from his position on the floor, flat on his back and wincing in pain as Kitayama grinned down at him, holding out his hand for what seemed like the hundredth time that day.
Notes: First Kisumai fic (first JPop fic in general...!), and all characteristics and whatnot are taken from watching copious amounts of videos (and a whooole lotta guesswork). Thanks to boe_4eva for ordering me to write something XD
Based off the awesomeness that is Kisumai Bowling.
Senga had a tendency to be a little over-enthusiastic in everything he did. He always made sure to put 100% into everything he was doing, even if that ‘something’ was making a fool of himself in front of quite a lot of people. Because if you were going to do something, at least do it well.
This motto hadn’t quite come into play when the group had decided to have a little fun with their latest performance.
The ‘third time lucky’ rule didn’t apply either.
He stared up from his position on the floor, flat on his back and wincing in pain as Kitayama grinned down at him, holding out his hand for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Senga scowled up at him for a moment, but Kitayama just laughed.
“You’ll get it next time,” he winked.
Senga wasn’t sure if he was scowling at himself, Kisumai’s leader, or the way his stomach flipped in an all-too-familiar way. He knew why he was stuffing up, and that annoyed him a little.
He took the hand offered and heaved himself up, muttering quietly, “I’m a professional dancer. I should’ve gotten in the first time.
His enthusiasm was beginning to wear off, amazingly enough.
But Kitayama just clapped him on the back and said supportively, “When have any of us gotten anything the first time?"
Senga shrugged, unwilling to admit that he had a point. “Well - Taisuke does."
“That’s because he’s Taisuke."
Senga frowned, conceding defeat.
“Come on, try again.”
*~*
“You need to spin faster."
“I think he’s spinning too fast."
“Try a little less oomph, maybe?"
“He’s Senga - he can’t do less oomph."
“But it’s his legs that get lost, so if he just turns tighter then it’s all in the feet."
“Maybe we could just lose a turn?"
“Or maybe, we could ditch the idea altogether."
Kitayama shot Taisuke a glare.
“Maybe you could do it,” Senga piped up hopefully.
Kitayama’s hand appeared, clamped firmly on his shoulder. “Or, maybe you could all just call it a day and leave us to practice."
He said it in a ‘yes, yes I am in charge, and yes you will listen’ voice that even had Taisuke pulling off his skates. Not without a lot of grumbling, of course.
Senga ignored that almost-queasy feeling as he watched his band mates file out, laughing and shouting out words of encouragement and good luck. Kitayama waved them away, calling after them, “Same time tomorrow morning, though! Don’t think you’re getting let off easily."
Senga frowned uneasily as Nikaido sent him a thumbs up on his way out, knowing exactly what it was for and feeling his nerves build up all the more. He watched apprehensively as Kitayama left his side, skating smoothly over to stop Taisuke as he was leaving the rehearsal room.
They spoke too quietly for him to hear, but Senga clearly saw the smirk grow on Taisuke’s face, and heard his distant snort of amusement as he punched Kitayama lightly in the arm, looking back at Senga for the briefest moment before closing the door behind him.
And they were alone.
That was a terrifying thought.
*~*
Can’t I go too?"
“No."
“But -"
“You’re here to practice."
“Yeah, but…"
Kitayama spun around to face him, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “But what?"
Senga looked down at his feet, frowning. “I don’t wanna."
Kitayama laughed, skating up to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Okay, if you don’t get it in the next, say… six shots, you have to buy me dinner. I’ll pick a really expensive restaurant just to make you try and get it sooner. How’s that for motivation?"
Senga blinked stupidly. No matter how expensive it was, that was incentive not to get it right.
He cursed whatever god was up there for doing this to him. “But I can’t do it. Look, why doesn’t Taisuke do it? Or you? I could just push you and you could do all the spinny crap."
Kitayama laughed again. Senga bit his lip.
“What are you, five? You’re fine. You’re just having a bad day, just like we all have once in a while.”
It wasn’t a bad day, Senga thought miserably as he skated into position, it was just a serious case of bad luck.
*~*
Senga stared up at Kitayama again, refusing to acknowledge the dull ache in his legs and back, or the intensified nervous feeling as Kitayama bent over him.
His hair did look very nice when it was all messed from rehearsal, and his voice as he said with a smile, “Five to go, up you get,” was very… deep…. Nice.
Senga closed his eyes tight and hit the back of his head solidly against the polished floorboards. He needed to concentrate. He knew he could do it, it wasn’t a particularly difficult move - it was just that he was getting in the way.
Seriously, if it was anyone but him who he had to do it with, he would be perfectly fine. He would be able to do it in a heartbeat - it shouldn’t be this difficult.
He took Kitayama’s hand again with a sigh and allowed himself to be pulled up, shaking out his tired limbs once he was upright. He took a deep breath. He could do this. Really. It was perfectly simple.
He took a sidelong glance at Kitayama.
… Now he didn’t actually want to get it right
*~*
“That’s four left. Keep trying."
Senga groaned, no longer really feeling it as his back connected with the floor. It was almost like second nature. He frowned at Kitayama as he was pulled up once again, a thought coming to him suddenly.
“Turn around,” he said.
His leader blinked at him. “Eh?"
“I want to try something,” Senga insisted, “Just turn around."
“Okay…"
Kitayama did as he was told very slowly, unsure of what the younger man was going to do. Senga just waved his hands at him, urging him to just do it as he skated into place. Face set in determination, Senga pushed forwards carefully, moving into the turns immediately and pulling them off without a hitch as he crouched down.
Perfect.
That just annoyed him more.
He crossed his arms and rested his elbows on his knees in a huff as Kitayama asked, “Can I turn around now?"
“Yeah."
He did, and raised an eyebrow at Senga’s crouched position.
“I did it."
The eyebrow was joined by a playful smirk. “I don’t believe you."
“But look!” Senga gestured to himself. “All ready for you bowl."
“I didn’t see it."
“Do you really have that little faith in me?"
“I have all the faith in the world, I just want to see it. And because for all I know you could have just bobbed down right there, I’m counting it as another miss."
Senga blinked. “How does that work?"
Kitayama shrugged, seeming to fumble for a moment. “Well - because I didn’t see it… I don’t know if you actually did it or not."
“But -"
“It’s a miss, okay!"
Senga blinked again as Kitayama suddenly became very flustered, and tilted his head curiously"
“You’ve got three more tries before you have to pay for a ridiculously expensive dinner. Now back into position."
*~*
“Two left."
“I did it before, I swear!"
“Sure you did."
“I did!"
“Uh-huh. Up you get."
“Can’t I just go home?"
“When you get it right."
“I’ll try again tomorrow."
“No you won’t. We’re not leaving until you get it tonight."
“But -"
“Senga.” Kitayama’s voice was stern. It gave Senga shivers.
“Sorry."
Kitayama nodded and smiled, back to his supportive, leader-ish self, and Senga wasn’t sure if he liked him ore smiling or evil. He glanced down at the hand that Kitayama had taken to pull him up from the hard ground yet again, and frowned. He frowned harder as they remained joined, the nerves that hadn’t really left since rehearsal began that morning suddenly coming back tenfold. He cleared his throat awkwardly, giving Kitayama a pointed look.
Kitayama seemed confused for a moment before he glanced down, dropping Senga’s hand with a surprised “Oh!” that broke the awkward silence.
Senga only frowned deeper.
*~*
Kitayama laughed as he braced himself against Senga’s shoulder, pushing hard. “I told you you could do it."
“I told you I did do it!” Senga shouted back.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You just saved yourself some serious money, kid."
Senga stood up from his crouch as the wall got a bit too close for his liking and smoothly glided back around to face his leader with his hands on his hips. “Just because you’re old doesn’t make me a kid."
Kitayama just snorted, mimicking Senga’s pose. “I am not old."
“Twenty-four is old."
“Well seventeen makes you a kid."
Senga bit his lip. “So I’m too much of a kid to ask you out to dinner?"
Kitayama didn’t even blink, only moving forwards as Senga did the same, smirk firmly set in place. “I’m not too old for you to take out?"
“Definitely not."
“Well then you’re not too young."
“So you’ll come to dinner with me despite my proven skill at becoming a bowling ball?"
“I might."
“Is that a yes?"
“It might be if you’re paying."
“Better make up your mind then, or I might stuff this last chance up so you have no choice. And of course I’m paying."
Kitayama reached out a hand and looped it around Senga’s waist as they skated past each other slowly, smirking up at his fellow dancer as he pulled him around so they were facing each other. Senga’s breath caught at their close proximity, and that dangerous smirk made his determined burst of confidence waver somewhat. Especially as Kitayama came closer, and Senga could count his eyelashes.
“Well, best make it a yes, then.”
------
:O
And it is done! WOO!
Comments are loved and muchly appreciated =)
And please excuse any mistakes/typos. I am very close to throwing a brick at my computer for failing at LJ. I no longer have the mental capacity to go through it again.