Fanfiction: Johnny's Entertainment: In Which Shige Fails And Wins All At Once, And Pi Just Fails
Title: In Which Shige Fails And Wins All At Once, And Pi Just Fails
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Pairings: Kato Shigeaki/Yamashita Tomohisa
Warnings: Slash. Crack. Probable OOC-ness.
Status: One-shot, complete.
Notes: This is fairy_illusions's and misticloud's collective fault. Also, I seem to be going through all the possible NEWSxNEWS combinations. Hmm. 'Possible' not quite meaning 'probable', of course.
When Pi realised that he fancied Shige, he spent a few days on edge. He jumped every time the door opened, and only settled back down when he saw that it wasn’t Shige. When it was Shige, though, he tended to turn into something akin an Energizer bunny which had been wound up too tight and couldn’t exactly stop jittering.
One afternoon Ryo slid into the seat next to Pi, nudged him lightly on the arm, and said, “It is so obvious that you like him.”
Pi put his face into his hands, and groaned. “Do you think he knows?”
Ryo chuckled. “He’d be blind not to.”
Pi groaned even louder and slumped forward in defeat, and Ryo chuckled even more - because honestly, he didn’t know.
He did so enjoy watching Pi squirm, though.
*
Of course, everybody else noticed, too.
“It is so obvious that he likes you,” Koyama said to Shige, stabbing a fork into the tomato lying innocently in the bed of lettuce. Shige looked at Koyama’s slightly too-bright eyes and wondered if he needed to eat more, but then decided that sons of ramen store owners don’t tend to starve themselves.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he said, instead.
“Think of all the member-ai that could happen,” Koyama insisted, and if they were in a shoujo manga, Koyama would have been clasping his fork between his palms and staring at the ceiling with literal stars in his eyes.
Shige groaned. Koyama could be such a fangirl, sometimes.
*
It did make Shige pay attention to Yamapi, though. And the more he paid attention to him, the more he realised that Koyama was actually right. Not only the fact that Yamapi probably sort of fancied him, but more so the fact that he was being terribly blatant about it.
Yamapi kind of sucked at having a crush, actually.
But Shige sort of found it endearing, really. The way Pi would sort of avoid looking at him when they were talking to each other despite the whole big-puppy-eyes-following-him-around-the-room thing, the way he would sort of pop up randomly when he was talking to other people, and interrupt the conversations a little bit like he felt the need to make his presence known, the way he would sort of tiptoe around him like he was on eggshells.
It was kind of cute, except ‘cute’ wasn’t quite the word you would use on your senpai, whether or not he sort of had a crush on you.
But still, it was something-approximating-cute. It was just his bandmates who were being a bit annoying about it.
“Yamapi’s being really obvious about it, you know,” Massu said around a mouthful of dumpling.
Shige rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “And?”
Massu shrugged, and swallowed. “I don’t know, I just thought I should say.”
Which, Shige figured, actually meant that Masuda thought he should actually be doing something about it.
“Doesn’t anybody wonder if I feel the same?” he wondered aloud.
Massu shrugged again. “You mean you don’t?”
*
Shige thought about it long and hard, and decided that he did. Everybody loves Yamapi; since Shige = part of everybody, Shige = loves Yamapi, right? Logic, pure and simple.
And, well, there were all those times Yamapi had backed him up, all those times he’d talked to him when he wanted to just crawl into a hole and die, and Pi kind of was amazing and soothing to be around, like a silently supportive rock, and he was kind of hot when he was all serious, and kind of hilarious when he was spazzing out…
Shige realised he was feeling kind of honoured, actually.
*
And finally -
“There’s a betting pool going on about you and Yamashita-kun,” Tegoshi announced.
Shige pouted. “Why is everyone expecting me to do something about it?”
If Tegoshi could look furtive, Shige thought, he would be looking furtive now.
But no. Instead, he was looking perfectly God-like, except that he was sort of peeking out of the corner of his eye without actually doing any actual peeking.
Shige sighed. “What is it.”
“I sort of bet on the both of you getting together in the next two weeks,” he said, shooting Shige a too-wide grin.
Shige narrowed his eyes at him, because he didn’t know whether to laugh at how ludicrous two weeks obviously was, or cry that his band mates clearly thought he was useless at getting his love life together.
Ignoring the fact that he was, actually, pretty useless at putting his love life together.
Tegoshi wilted slightly under Shige’s glare. “I bet a lot of money on you two,” and the wibbly eyes made Shige glare harder.
“…We split it 50-50,” he finally said.
*
Except the problem was that he didn’t even know how to begin to chase skirts, let alone chase pants.
He wondered if he should ask Ryo, since he was obviously the closest to Pi in the group, but also wondered if it was worth being laughed at.
But then he decided to give it a go, anyway. What’d he got to lose, right? (A few thousand yen, a little voice in his head reminded him, but he squashed it before it can ever finish its sentence.) If he got laughed at he could just walk away and pretend nothing ever happened.
…Not that it had ever worked, before, but Shige was a firm believer in many persistent tries for success.
So one day he screwed his courage up, and asked Ryo in the pathetic five minute break they get between rehearsals.
Ryo laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Shige was beginning to think that this was seriously not worth the chance being laughed at by Ryo, again, and was about to walk away when Ryo finally wheezed out, “He’ll say yes no matter what you do, you know.”
“The problem is that I don’t know what to do,” he gritted out, and wondered how it could sometimes be so hard to get through to some people.
Ryo seemed to pick up on it, because he seemed to at least try to stop laughing. “And somehow you think I’m the right person for advice.”
“Duh,” Shige snapped. “You’re only Nishikido Ryo, He Who Could Probably Have Any Girl He Wanted, And More. And Probably At The Same Time, Too.”
Ryo rolled his eyes. “You should probably take those rumours with a pinch of salt,” he muttered sarcastically. “But anyway,” he continued loudly before Shige could say anything, “Honestly now. Pi’s easy. He doesn’t like anything fancy if it’s for himself. That’s all, I guess.”
Shige mumbled his thanks and beat a quick retreat.
Ryo was so amused. He’d kind of bet on Pi and Shige screwing everything up and never speaking to each other again, but well, considering that the latter part was highly unlikely to happen, that kind of meant he’d already given up his few thousand yen.
Besides, it was kind of fun.
Ryo was so amused.
*
“You could propose to him, and have a marriage by the sea,” Koyama said, chopsticks clasped between his hands, eyes gazing at the not-too-distant ceiling. “I’ll be your best man. Or your bridesmaid?”
“No,” Shige all but wailed, and resisted the urge let his forehead meet the table.
“Yeah,” Koyama said thoughtfully. “I guess you’d be the man in the relationship.”
Shige gave up all pretence of restraint, and let his forehead meet the table.
*
Shige realised a little late that obviously the best person to ask, the person who most would have his best interests at heart, was Tegoshi. Not even Koyama was reliable, given the presence of that (idiotic) betting pool, and the knowledge that his best friend could be kind of sneaky when he wasn’t busy being retarded.
But well, better late than never.
“I have no clue what to do,” Shige heaved a sigh.
Tegoshi patted his arm sympathetically. “Just do your best,” he said.
“How do you ask a person out?” Shige groaned, and leaned on the table.
“Honestly, I’ve never been able to do it before,” Tegoshi admitted, and Shige wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
“Why isn’t it Yamapi who has to make the moves first, anyway?” he complained.
“Because he obviously is too busy, and too shy,” Tegoshi replied, shrugging like it was a matter of fact. At Shige’s disbelieving glance, he added, “Being sexy and famous doesn’t mean you can’t be shy, too.”
“And nobody stops to think that I could be shy too,” Shige grumbled, and Tegoshi snickered at the thought of Shige being sexy and famous.
*
In the end it was Massu who gave him the advice which made the most sense to him.
“You could just tell him, you know,” Masuda said quietly when he caught him looking mournfully at Pi’s back. He wasn’t even wondering how many days there were left before Tegoshi lost the game, because he was just willing to do anything to break the stupid tension and anticipation in the air.
Except, well, he didn’t know what to do.
“You make it sound so easy,” he grumbled in return.
“That’s because it is,” Masuda countered lightly. “Isn’t it? He already likes you. He’s bound to say yes.”
“Then why isn’t he doing anything about it?” he flailed quietly.
“Because he doesn’t think that you’d like him,” Massu said, and suddenly everything made more sense than it did five minutes ago.
Enough sense, at least, to convince Shige to stride across the room and present himself in front of Pi, who promptly looked uncomfortable. Shige didn’t really know why, but then again he couldn’t see himself with his hair mussed up right that way, and skin glistening just so. Pi could barely tear his eyes away, except that Shige was standing so squarely in front of him that he couldn’t exactly look anywhere else.
“You like me,” Shige pronounced, and Pi wanted to just die in a corner from embarrassment, now, because that was the last thing he had ever expected Shige to say.
“And I like you too,” Shige said, almost like an afterthought, and Pi’s heart nearly stopped. His brain, though, did sort of short circuit.
“Um, okay,” he finally managed to say, and wished his brain wouldn’t stop functioning completely just when he needed it to work the most.
“So,” Shige said. “What happens now?”
“Um,” Yamapi said, and flailed. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. He wasn’t prepared for this. He was still stuck on two sentences ago. He flailed some more.
Shige sighed. He saw what they all meant, now. “We go out?” he suggested.
“Sure,” Pi managed to say, and if it weren’t for the sudden grin on his face Shige would have thought he were entirely uninterested.
Except now they didn’t quite know what to say, and all the days of tension suddenly collapsed into this pinpoint of awkwardness which was all too tangible.
“We really suck at this, don’t we?” Shige muttered, and then sort of reached up and ruffled Pi’s hair. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.” Which was really sort of a stupid thing to say, since they had to go back to rehearsals in about two minutes, but that was beside the point.
He walked away, Pi wanted to die from happiness, now.
*
He didn’t quite think the change would be so noticeable, but he supposed that leaving with Pi every day straight after rehearsals kind of made things obvious, yeah.
They did try to make it discreet, but Shige had the discretion of an elephant in a china shop, and Pi’s lack of presence was sometimes more of a presence than his actual presence. It did take Ryo a few days before he finally demanded it out of them, though, following which he declared that they were such a typical new couple, couldn’t take their eyes and hands off each other, eurgh.
Pi blushed like a bride, and Shige rolled his eyes.
At least he’d already tipped Tegoshi off.
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Pairings: Kato Shigeaki/Yamashita Tomohisa
Warnings: Slash. Crack. Probable OOC-ness.
Status: One-shot, complete.
Notes: This is fairy_illusions's and misticloud's collective fault. Also, I seem to be going through all the possible NEWSxNEWS combinations. Hmm. 'Possible' not quite meaning 'probable', of course.
When Pi realised that he fancied Shige, he spent a few days on edge. He jumped every time the door opened, and only settled back down when he saw that it wasn’t Shige. When it was Shige, though, he tended to turn into something akin an Energizer bunny which had been wound up too tight and couldn’t exactly stop jittering.
One afternoon Ryo slid into the seat next to Pi, nudged him lightly on the arm, and said, “It is so obvious that you like him.”
Pi put his face into his hands, and groaned. “Do you think he knows?”
Ryo chuckled. “He’d be blind not to.”
Pi groaned even louder and slumped forward in defeat, and Ryo chuckled even more - because honestly, he didn’t know.
He did so enjoy watching Pi squirm, though.
*
Of course, everybody else noticed, too.
“It is so obvious that he likes you,” Koyama said to Shige, stabbing a fork into the tomato lying innocently in the bed of lettuce. Shige looked at Koyama’s slightly too-bright eyes and wondered if he needed to eat more, but then decided that sons of ramen store owners don’t tend to starve themselves.
“You have got to be kidding me,” he said, instead.
“Think of all the member-ai that could happen,” Koyama insisted, and if they were in a shoujo manga, Koyama would have been clasping his fork between his palms and staring at the ceiling with literal stars in his eyes.
Shige groaned. Koyama could be such a fangirl, sometimes.
*
It did make Shige pay attention to Yamapi, though. And the more he paid attention to him, the more he realised that Koyama was actually right. Not only the fact that Yamapi probably sort of fancied him, but more so the fact that he was being terribly blatant about it.
Yamapi kind of sucked at having a crush, actually.
But Shige sort of found it endearing, really. The way Pi would sort of avoid looking at him when they were talking to each other despite the whole big-puppy-eyes-following-him-around-the-room thing, the way he would sort of pop up randomly when he was talking to other people, and interrupt the conversations a little bit like he felt the need to make his presence known, the way he would sort of tiptoe around him like he was on eggshells.
It was kind of cute, except ‘cute’ wasn’t quite the word you would use on your senpai, whether or not he sort of had a crush on you.
But still, it was something-approximating-cute. It was just his bandmates who were being a bit annoying about it.
“Yamapi’s being really obvious about it, you know,” Massu said around a mouthful of dumpling.
Shige rolled his eyes at the ceiling. “And?”
Massu shrugged, and swallowed. “I don’t know, I just thought I should say.”
Which, Shige figured, actually meant that Masuda thought he should actually be doing something about it.
“Doesn’t anybody wonder if I feel the same?” he wondered aloud.
Massu shrugged again. “You mean you don’t?”
*
Shige thought about it long and hard, and decided that he did. Everybody loves Yamapi; since Shige = part of everybody, Shige = loves Yamapi, right? Logic, pure and simple.
And, well, there were all those times Yamapi had backed him up, all those times he’d talked to him when he wanted to just crawl into a hole and die, and Pi kind of was amazing and soothing to be around, like a silently supportive rock, and he was kind of hot when he was all serious, and kind of hilarious when he was spazzing out…
Shige realised he was feeling kind of honoured, actually.
*
And finally -
“There’s a betting pool going on about you and Yamashita-kun,” Tegoshi announced.
Shige pouted. “Why is everyone expecting me to do something about it?”
If Tegoshi could look furtive, Shige thought, he would be looking furtive now.
But no. Instead, he was looking perfectly God-like, except that he was sort of peeking out of the corner of his eye without actually doing any actual peeking.
Shige sighed. “What is it.”
“I sort of bet on the both of you getting together in the next two weeks,” he said, shooting Shige a too-wide grin.
Shige narrowed his eyes at him, because he didn’t know whether to laugh at how ludicrous two weeks obviously was, or cry that his band mates clearly thought he was useless at getting his love life together.
Ignoring the fact that he was, actually, pretty useless at putting his love life together.
Tegoshi wilted slightly under Shige’s glare. “I bet a lot of money on you two,” and the wibbly eyes made Shige glare harder.
“…We split it 50-50,” he finally said.
*
Except the problem was that he didn’t even know how to begin to chase skirts, let alone chase pants.
He wondered if he should ask Ryo, since he was obviously the closest to Pi in the group, but also wondered if it was worth being laughed at.
But then he decided to give it a go, anyway. What’d he got to lose, right? (A few thousand yen, a little voice in his head reminded him, but he squashed it before it can ever finish its sentence.) If he got laughed at he could just walk away and pretend nothing ever happened.
…Not that it had ever worked, before, but Shige was a firm believer in many persistent tries for success.
So one day he screwed his courage up, and asked Ryo in the pathetic five minute break they get between rehearsals.
Ryo laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Shige was beginning to think that this was seriously not worth the chance being laughed at by Ryo, again, and was about to walk away when Ryo finally wheezed out, “He’ll say yes no matter what you do, you know.”
“The problem is that I don’t know what to do,” he gritted out, and wondered how it could sometimes be so hard to get through to some people.
Ryo seemed to pick up on it, because he seemed to at least try to stop laughing. “And somehow you think I’m the right person for advice.”
“Duh,” Shige snapped. “You’re only Nishikido Ryo, He Who Could Probably Have Any Girl He Wanted, And More. And Probably At The Same Time, Too.”
Ryo rolled his eyes. “You should probably take those rumours with a pinch of salt,” he muttered sarcastically. “But anyway,” he continued loudly before Shige could say anything, “Honestly now. Pi’s easy. He doesn’t like anything fancy if it’s for himself. That’s all, I guess.”
Shige mumbled his thanks and beat a quick retreat.
Ryo was so amused. He’d kind of bet on Pi and Shige screwing everything up and never speaking to each other again, but well, considering that the latter part was highly unlikely to happen, that kind of meant he’d already given up his few thousand yen.
Besides, it was kind of fun.
Ryo was so amused.
*
“You could propose to him, and have a marriage by the sea,” Koyama said, chopsticks clasped between his hands, eyes gazing at the not-too-distant ceiling. “I’ll be your best man. Or your bridesmaid?”
“No,” Shige all but wailed, and resisted the urge let his forehead meet the table.
“Yeah,” Koyama said thoughtfully. “I guess you’d be the man in the relationship.”
Shige gave up all pretence of restraint, and let his forehead meet the table.
*
Shige realised a little late that obviously the best person to ask, the person who most would have his best interests at heart, was Tegoshi. Not even Koyama was reliable, given the presence of that (idiotic) betting pool, and the knowledge that his best friend could be kind of sneaky when he wasn’t busy being retarded.
But well, better late than never.
“I have no clue what to do,” Shige heaved a sigh.
Tegoshi patted his arm sympathetically. “Just do your best,” he said.
“How do you ask a person out?” Shige groaned, and leaned on the table.
“Honestly, I’ve never been able to do it before,” Tegoshi admitted, and Shige wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
“Why isn’t it Yamapi who has to make the moves first, anyway?” he complained.
“Because he obviously is too busy, and too shy,” Tegoshi replied, shrugging like it was a matter of fact. At Shige’s disbelieving glance, he added, “Being sexy and famous doesn’t mean you can’t be shy, too.”
“And nobody stops to think that I could be shy too,” Shige grumbled, and Tegoshi snickered at the thought of Shige being sexy and famous.
*
In the end it was Massu who gave him the advice which made the most sense to him.
“You could just tell him, you know,” Masuda said quietly when he caught him looking mournfully at Pi’s back. He wasn’t even wondering how many days there were left before Tegoshi lost the game, because he was just willing to do anything to break the stupid tension and anticipation in the air.
Except, well, he didn’t know what to do.
“You make it sound so easy,” he grumbled in return.
“That’s because it is,” Masuda countered lightly. “Isn’t it? He already likes you. He’s bound to say yes.”
“Then why isn’t he doing anything about it?” he flailed quietly.
“Because he doesn’t think that you’d like him,” Massu said, and suddenly everything made more sense than it did five minutes ago.
Enough sense, at least, to convince Shige to stride across the room and present himself in front of Pi, who promptly looked uncomfortable. Shige didn’t really know why, but then again he couldn’t see himself with his hair mussed up right that way, and skin glistening just so. Pi could barely tear his eyes away, except that Shige was standing so squarely in front of him that he couldn’t exactly look anywhere else.
“You like me,” Shige pronounced, and Pi wanted to just die in a corner from embarrassment, now, because that was the last thing he had ever expected Shige to say.
“And I like you too,” Shige said, almost like an afterthought, and Pi’s heart nearly stopped. His brain, though, did sort of short circuit.
“Um, okay,” he finally managed to say, and wished his brain wouldn’t stop functioning completely just when he needed it to work the most.
“So,” Shige said. “What happens now?”
“Um,” Yamapi said, and flailed. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all. He wasn’t prepared for this. He was still stuck on two sentences ago. He flailed some more.
Shige sighed. He saw what they all meant, now. “We go out?” he suggested.
“Sure,” Pi managed to say, and if it weren’t for the sudden grin on his face Shige would have thought he were entirely uninterested.
Except now they didn’t quite know what to say, and all the days of tension suddenly collapsed into this pinpoint of awkwardness which was all too tangible.
“We really suck at this, don’t we?” Shige muttered, and then sort of reached up and ruffled Pi’s hair. “I guess I’ll see you around, then.” Which was really sort of a stupid thing to say, since they had to go back to rehearsals in about two minutes, but that was beside the point.
He walked away, Pi wanted to die from happiness, now.
*
He didn’t quite think the change would be so noticeable, but he supposed that leaving with Pi every day straight after rehearsals kind of made things obvious, yeah.
They did try to make it discreet, but Shige had the discretion of an elephant in a china shop, and Pi’s lack of presence was sometimes more of a presence than his actual presence. It did take Ryo a few days before he finally demanded it out of them, though, following which he declared that they were such a typical new couple, couldn’t take their eyes and hands off each other, eurgh.
Pi blushed like a bride, and Shige rolled his eyes.
At least he’d already tipped Tegoshi off.