Fanfiction: Johnny's Entertainment: Keeping Watch In The Night
Title: Keeping Watch In The Night
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Pairings: Kato Shigeaki/Nishikido Ryo
Warnings: A disgusting amount of sap and long-winded writing.
Status: One-shot. Complete.
Notes: Written for indian_monsoon, who requested Ryo/Shige from me about a month or two back. I don't remember the original prompt anymore. D:
Ryo and Shige ride the last train home, side by side in the quiet carriage. Tired salarymen smelling slightly of alcohol take up half the filled seats, drooping and nodding, awake and asleep, to the gentle rocking of the train; young couples take up the other half, the men’s arms draped possessively over the girls, who in turn lie dreaming against their boyfriends’ chests. Ryo and Shige take up the centre seats of an otherwise empty side as the train hurtles through the city lights.
They don’t say anything. When people have been in each other’s presence long enough they surpass the want for conversation. Silence becomes as eloquent as speech could ever be, saying everything that needs to be said, and sometimes more.
The suspension of Ryo’s license means that he is forced to ride on public transport, and to hitch rides provided by the expansive charity of his friends. After they’d stopped laughing at him, Pi and Jin had taking it upon themselves to arrange a carpool worked around the crazy schedules of those who cared enough to offer rides - with, of course, a price. “We get to drive your car whenever we want to for the next six months,” they said, and Ryo could only sigh and wonder for whom the favour was being done.
But today was one of those admittedly un-rare days where nobody in the roster was free to drop Ryo somewhere closer to the place he nowadays called home. He’d been all prepared for a solitary journey home and was indeed quite happy when recording with NEWS ended up stretching late into the night, because it meant he could save money on a cab, not needing to avoid the risk of being mauled in crowded stations and trains, and had thus gladly agreed to go last to further that possibility. So he was rather surprised when he came out of the recording studio to find that Shige was slouched all over the couch in the waiting room, rousing from his half-slumber when he heard the soft slide of the door opening.
You’re finally done, Shige said, his sleepiness clearly doing nothing to keep the snark from his voice. I’ve been waiting for hours.
You didn’t go home? Ryo asked softly, his voice thin in the empty room.
Shige rolled his eyes. What’s it look like? But it was an affectionate growl rather than a barb, softened by the gentle look in Shige’s eyes, and the soft curve up of his pink, plump lips.
Are you ready to go? Shige said, and Ryo was sufficiently distracted from those distracting lips. He stowed the lyric sheets into his bag, they stand and leave, taking the time to murmur their thanks to the remaining staff members, and in no time at all, the cool air of the night is light against their skin.
They haven’t spoken since, which has allowed Ryo to relax, with every step taking just a little more tension away from him. By the time they’d reached the station, Ryo was relaxed enough to feel the tiredness of a whole day’s work sink into the very marrow of his bones. And now he wanted nothing better than to do precisely what those fortunate girls across from him were doing to their boyfriends - sinking into the warmth and solidity of their chests, allowing themselves to be protected by the arms encircling them. But he can’t, of course - no matter how much he wants to, the risk and scandal they would both - no, all - be victim of wouldn’t be worth the impetuous, short-term desire for comfort. It wouldn’t be fair to either NEWS or Eito, considering the blood, sweat and tears invested by the members of both groups. Instead, he comforts himself with the knowledge that very soon they would be safe within the privacy of his own four walls, which no curious eye could penetrate.
Beside him, Shige shifts in his seat. In the window across he sees their combined reflection, observes the way Ryo’s face is drawn and wan, the way his lips are lax and turned down. The man beside him is getting more and more tired with whatever is on his mind, and Shige feels a rush of concern, worry, love and pride.
He wants nothing more than to wrap his arm around Ryo’s thin, bony shoulders; wants nothing more than to feel the solid, comforting weight of his body against his, snug and fitting, warm and right, a shield against the artificial glare of the plastic lights in the train. He wants to twine his fingers in Ryo’s, to hold his hand while he sleeps against his shoulder, to do everything Ryo would do for him if their situations and needs were reversed.
And he has. When he was stressing out over his final exams, Ryo brought him comfort in the form of hot drinks (all non-caffeinated, the sneaky fiend), brought him invigoration in the form of long, thin fingers kneading away the tension in his shoulders, brought him support in the form of moving in, just for that week, to make sure Shige ate and slept at all.
But instead of all the gestures he wants to make to show Ryo that he is certainly, undeniably there for him to lean on, all Shige can do is to wrap his arms around himself, and let his knee bump and connect with Ryo’s, feeling it minutely when the thin cloth of jeans between their skins scraped against each other.
Their stop is next, and they rise and get off the train. On the platform, they make their way down the steps and to the gates, as the train hurtles off into the night, leaving a sudden hole of near-silence in its wake, uncovering the persistent chirping of crickets, loud in this quiet. The intense, precise, pin-point-pricks of sound remind Shige somehow of the scattering of stars against the canvas of black night, and Shige has the impulse to look up at the sky; it’s been a while since he had last remembered to look at the stars. Nights in the depths of the city somehow don’t inspire the same feelings of wonder as nights further out do.
And as he looks up - there, there they are, as glorious as they have ever been. Shige stops in his tracks, and stares straight right up, into the cloudless sky.
Ryo feels the lack of presence by his side before he hears the lapse of footfalls. He turns around, and sees Shige standing there, his hands jammed into his pockets as protection against the night breeze, baring his neck while he peered at something unfathomable in the heavens.
Asking, “What are you doing?” would only prompt a response of the most obvious nature. So Ryo, instead, looks up as well.
And realises that he has never really taken the time to notice what’s been above him all this while. “Ah,” he thinks, and it is like downing a cup of good wine, and raising it in tribute to the heavens. The twinkling of the stars, in and out, in counterpoint to each other, in a harmony that was strictly their own - he notices it with the strength of rapture and epiphany, but with the quietness and serenity of enlightenment.
They stand standing there for a little while longer, before Ryo takes a deep breath, and sighs, contented. Shige comes down from the stars and looks toward him, and involuntarily smiles (with a little bit of relief) at the sight Ryo makes, huddled in his jacket, face an expression of ineffable bliss.
Ryo looks down and at Shige, who walks towards him and stands by him, offering his arm out. Ryo looks up and down the street, sees all the curtains drawn and the lights mostly out, and slides his arm through the hoop that Shige’s makes. He leans against him slightly - just enough to force a slow walk between the both of them, nothing more - before he starts moving again.
And so they carry on home.
---
Random Author's Notes:
I got through Coldplay's Yellow and NEWS' Hoshi wo Mezashite before settling on a line from Stars from Les Miserables for the title. If you know the musical at all you'll know that the mood is rather different from this fic (rather depressive, and stern, and desperate, actually), but the idea of stars as sentinels in the night = ♥
This is a truly random note. I just didn't want to put it with the notes cause it would be a spoiler, hee. ^^
Fandom: Johnny's Entertainment
Pairings: Kato Shigeaki/Nishikido Ryo
Warnings: A disgusting amount of sap and long-winded writing.
Status: One-shot. Complete.
Notes: Written for indian_monsoon, who requested Ryo/Shige from me about a month or two back. I don't remember the original prompt anymore. D:
Ryo and Shige ride the last train home, side by side in the quiet carriage. Tired salarymen smelling slightly of alcohol take up half the filled seats, drooping and nodding, awake and asleep, to the gentle rocking of the train; young couples take up the other half, the men’s arms draped possessively over the girls, who in turn lie dreaming against their boyfriends’ chests. Ryo and Shige take up the centre seats of an otherwise empty side as the train hurtles through the city lights.
They don’t say anything. When people have been in each other’s presence long enough they surpass the want for conversation. Silence becomes as eloquent as speech could ever be, saying everything that needs to be said, and sometimes more.
The suspension of Ryo’s license means that he is forced to ride on public transport, and to hitch rides provided by the expansive charity of his friends. After they’d stopped laughing at him, Pi and Jin had taking it upon themselves to arrange a carpool worked around the crazy schedules of those who cared enough to offer rides - with, of course, a price. “We get to drive your car whenever we want to for the next six months,” they said, and Ryo could only sigh and wonder for whom the favour was being done.
But today was one of those admittedly un-rare days where nobody in the roster was free to drop Ryo somewhere closer to the place he nowadays called home. He’d been all prepared for a solitary journey home and was indeed quite happy when recording with NEWS ended up stretching late into the night, because it meant he could save money on a cab, not needing to avoid the risk of being mauled in crowded stations and trains, and had thus gladly agreed to go last to further that possibility. So he was rather surprised when he came out of the recording studio to find that Shige was slouched all over the couch in the waiting room, rousing from his half-slumber when he heard the soft slide of the door opening.
You’re finally done, Shige said, his sleepiness clearly doing nothing to keep the snark from his voice. I’ve been waiting for hours.
You didn’t go home? Ryo asked softly, his voice thin in the empty room.
Shige rolled his eyes. What’s it look like? But it was an affectionate growl rather than a barb, softened by the gentle look in Shige’s eyes, and the soft curve up of his pink, plump lips.
Are you ready to go? Shige said, and Ryo was sufficiently distracted from those distracting lips. He stowed the lyric sheets into his bag, they stand and leave, taking the time to murmur their thanks to the remaining staff members, and in no time at all, the cool air of the night is light against their skin.
They haven’t spoken since, which has allowed Ryo to relax, with every step taking just a little more tension away from him. By the time they’d reached the station, Ryo was relaxed enough to feel the tiredness of a whole day’s work sink into the very marrow of his bones. And now he wanted nothing better than to do precisely what those fortunate girls across from him were doing to their boyfriends - sinking into the warmth and solidity of their chests, allowing themselves to be protected by the arms encircling them. But he can’t, of course - no matter how much he wants to, the risk and scandal they would both - no, all - be victim of wouldn’t be worth the impetuous, short-term desire for comfort. It wouldn’t be fair to either NEWS or Eito, considering the blood, sweat and tears invested by the members of both groups. Instead, he comforts himself with the knowledge that very soon they would be safe within the privacy of his own four walls, which no curious eye could penetrate.
Beside him, Shige shifts in his seat. In the window across he sees their combined reflection, observes the way Ryo’s face is drawn and wan, the way his lips are lax and turned down. The man beside him is getting more and more tired with whatever is on his mind, and Shige feels a rush of concern, worry, love and pride.
He wants nothing more than to wrap his arm around Ryo’s thin, bony shoulders; wants nothing more than to feel the solid, comforting weight of his body against his, snug and fitting, warm and right, a shield against the artificial glare of the plastic lights in the train. He wants to twine his fingers in Ryo’s, to hold his hand while he sleeps against his shoulder, to do everything Ryo would do for him if their situations and needs were reversed.
And he has. When he was stressing out over his final exams, Ryo brought him comfort in the form of hot drinks (all non-caffeinated, the sneaky fiend), brought him invigoration in the form of long, thin fingers kneading away the tension in his shoulders, brought him support in the form of moving in, just for that week, to make sure Shige ate and slept at all.
But instead of all the gestures he wants to make to show Ryo that he is certainly, undeniably there for him to lean on, all Shige can do is to wrap his arms around himself, and let his knee bump and connect with Ryo’s, feeling it minutely when the thin cloth of jeans between their skins scraped against each other.
Their stop is next, and they rise and get off the train. On the platform, they make their way down the steps and to the gates, as the train hurtles off into the night, leaving a sudden hole of near-silence in its wake, uncovering the persistent chirping of crickets, loud in this quiet. The intense, precise, pin-point-pricks of sound remind Shige somehow of the scattering of stars against the canvas of black night, and Shige has the impulse to look up at the sky; it’s been a while since he had last remembered to look at the stars. Nights in the depths of the city somehow don’t inspire the same feelings of wonder as nights further out do.
And as he looks up - there, there they are, as glorious as they have ever been. Shige stops in his tracks, and stares straight right up, into the cloudless sky.
Ryo feels the lack of presence by his side before he hears the lapse of footfalls. He turns around, and sees Shige standing there, his hands jammed into his pockets as protection against the night breeze, baring his neck while he peered at something unfathomable in the heavens.
Asking, “What are you doing?” would only prompt a response of the most obvious nature. So Ryo, instead, looks up as well.
And realises that he has never really taken the time to notice what’s been above him all this while. “Ah,” he thinks, and it is like downing a cup of good wine, and raising it in tribute to the heavens. The twinkling of the stars, in and out, in counterpoint to each other, in a harmony that was strictly their own - he notices it with the strength of rapture and epiphany, but with the quietness and serenity of enlightenment.
They stand standing there for a little while longer, before Ryo takes a deep breath, and sighs, contented. Shige comes down from the stars and looks toward him, and involuntarily smiles (with a little bit of relief) at the sight Ryo makes, huddled in his jacket, face an expression of ineffable bliss.
Ryo looks down and at Shige, who walks towards him and stands by him, offering his arm out. Ryo looks up and down the street, sees all the curtains drawn and the lights mostly out, and slides his arm through the hoop that Shige’s makes. He leans against him slightly - just enough to force a slow walk between the both of them, nothing more - before he starts moving again.
And so they carry on home.
---
Random Author's Notes:
I got through Coldplay's Yellow and NEWS' Hoshi wo Mezashite before settling on a line from Stars from Les Miserables for the title. If you know the musical at all you'll know that the mood is rather different from this fic (rather depressive, and stern, and desperate, actually), but the idea of stars as sentinels in the night = ♥
This is a truly random note. I just didn't want to put it with the notes cause it would be a spoiler, hee. ^^