One-shot - A Change or Two
Title: A Change or Two
Pairing: Koyama/Tegoshi, Koyama/Ryo
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~7,000
A/N: Dear Tara, I will finish all your presents before Christmas. :| I hope you enjoy, because I think you're the only person in the world who will read KoyaRyo and KoyaTego. XD Title and cut-text shamelessly poached from Dave Dobbyn's "Loyal".
Summary: Koyama finds it difficult to let go of Ryo, until Tegoshi gives him a reason.
Koyama liked the way Ryo felt moulded against his back, arm wrapped securely around his waist and face pressed into the crook of his neck. It felt good, familiar, and they meshed so well, the lines of Ryo’s body fitting neatly into the dips of Koyama’s like a jigsaw.
“God, I don’t feel like being on the train for three hours tomorrow,” Ryo muttered in warm puffs of air against Koyama’s hair.
“Mmm.” Koyama’s reply was noncommittal, but his hand joined Ryo’s where it rested on his stomach and stroked comfortingly along his fingers. He could tell by now when Ryo wanted sympathy, advice, or just needed to vent.
Ryo breathed out deep in an almost-sigh, then pressed a kiss to the side of Koyama’s neck and nuzzled the soft spot under his air that they both knew caused tingles to run like lightening down his spine.
Koyama closed his eyes and tilted his head back, leaning it onto Ryo’s shoulder. They were so good together. It almost made him want to ask for him back, ask him if he wanted to try again.
But the train ride back to Osaka tomorrow and subsequent weeks in which they wouldn’t be seeing each other made him bite his tongue, because as good as they’d been together, it was much better if they stayed apart.
~
“I like doing photo shoots with you,” Tegoshi told Koyama suddenly as they were in the middle of having their makeup retouched. “It’s better than with Shige.”
“Why?” Koyama asked, trying hard not to move his face too much as it was assaulted with a makeup brush. “Does Shige not buy you lunch afterwards?”
Koyama wasn’t sure why he bothered teasing Tegoshi, because the only response he got to that was a cheery, “Are you offering? Thanks Kei-chan!”
It was lucky he was cute, or no one would be nearly as willing to put up with his antics, Koyama thought, regarding Tegoshi’s delicate features, scrunched with mischievous amusement.
He bought Tegoshi lunch anyway, never one to resist a chance to spoil his friends, and as usual, Tegoshi made it more than worth it - so charming when he got his own way. Tomorrow it would be as though it hadn’t happened, Koyama knew, but right now he felt like the nicest person in the world. Tegoshi’s bouts of thankfulness were much like the rest of him; short, but extreme.
“Kei-chan, thank you so much,” Tegoshi said for about the fourth time, twining his arm around Koyama’s. “That was so good.”
Even after years of excessive affection, Koyama wasn’t entirely used to the way Tegoshi behaved as though no one was watching them when they were in public. He had learned just to accept it though: Tegoshi, like gravity, was a nigh unstoppable force.
“Maybe you can return the favour next time,” Koyama suggested, mostly in jest. It was almost as ludicrous as asking Massu if you could mess with his hair.
“Maybe when I’m a bit older,” Tegoshi said, in what Koyama was sure was the lightest, most dismissive tone in his repertoire.
“You’ll still be saying that when you’re 30, you little devil.” Koyama rolled his eyes, but he could never be seriously frustrated with Tegoshi; not with his endearing giggle and bright eyes.
That boy, he swore, could get away with murder.
~
It didn’t take much more than Ryo’s fingers trailing lightly down the back of his neck and his dark, intense eyes fixed on Koyama to get him to agree when Ryo asked in a low, rough voice, “Come home with me.”
As always it felt so good, so right, lying together in a tangle of limbs and exchanging soft, open mouthed kisses. The way Ryo panted raggedly in his ear as he drew Koyama deeper into him was comfortingly familiar, as was the way his fingers traced well-travelled paths down bare skin.
Afterwards was always the issue, when Ryo would hold Koyama close, and Koyama would loop his arms around Ryo’s waist and let his mind wander. They were meant to be letting go and moving on, but he wasn’t sure how that was possible when they kept coming back to each other.
When Ryo pressed lazy kisses to his shoulder and Koyama’s hands automatically moved to cup his hips and pull him closer, it almost seemed as though it was impossible. They were still in love, drawn to one another like magnets, and yet Koyama couldn’t stand the weeks, occasionally months apart at a time. It was okay for a colleague, okay even for a friend, but for a lover… he deserved more than that, and Ryo deserved someone who could handle it.
Perhaps this was their way of attuning to the new situation, Koyama justified it to himself. They’d get used to it eventually, drift apart and remain good friends. It was okay if it was slow, if they needed these moments together first. Who knew, maybe this would be the last time.
He tried to ignore the fact that it was always ‘maybe’ the last time, distracted by the warmth of Ryo’s body in his arms.
~
“I’m kind of hungry.”
“No,” Shige replied, before Tegoshi had a chance to say anything else.
Tegoshi frowned. “No what? No, I’m not hungry? I don’t think it’s up to you to tell me whether I’m hungry or not, Shige.”
Koyama tried not to laugh at their antics, pretending to be very interested in the messages he didn’t actually have on his phone and hiding a smile behind a cough.
“No, we’re not going out to eat. We spent enough on bowling and shopping. I’m going home and cooking for myself.”
“You don’t have to buy anything, you only have to come and keep me company,” Tegoshi suggested, but Shige just snorted.
“Sounds thrilling,” he said, and even Tegoshi could pick up on blatant sarcasm when it was rubbed right in his face.
Koyama could see the cogs in Tegoshi’s head turning, and knew even before he started to swivel his head in Koyama’s direction that he was about to be talked into being Tegoshi’s lunch buddy instead. But in this case, Koyama was on Shige’s side. They’d already spent way too much money today and, unlike Tegoshi who didn’t seem to care, he was actually concerned with having money once he reached retirement age.
“Why don’t we go back to Shige’s place with him? He can cook us dinner. You have been promising to make me that Taiwanese recipe for ages,” he said, and Shige sighed, but gave in quickly.
Koyama and Tegoshi kept themselves entertained while Shige cooked, and they obediently told him it was delicious as they ate. Tegoshi offered to do the dishes afterwards while Shige and Koyama lounged about on the sofa and chatted about whatever came to mind.
They chose a movie to watch from Shige’s rather extensive collection, and Tegoshi settled down between the two of them, barging into their personal space. He curled his legs up underneath him, feet poking into Shige’s thigh, and leant against Koyama, wiggling until he was comfortable. Koyama didn’t push him away, instead letting his arm fall down behind Tegoshi, almost curling around his waist.
It quickly became apparent that the movie was too artsy and intellectual to watch without concentrating, and the Koyama and Tegoshi were too tired to try. They spent most of the film whispering to each other while Shige was engrossed in the story.
Tegoshi’s breathy voice tickled his ear, and Koyama couldn’t help the slight shiver that ran through him. He wasn’t sure when Tegoshi fell asleep, just that eventually he realised his breathing had become deep and steady and his head had started to tip back at a ridiculous angle.
Koyama chuckled to himself, and guided Tegoshi’s head onto his shoulder. He didn’t realise he was watching him with soft, fond eyes until he caught Shige giving him a strange look.
“He’s such a kid,” Koyama said affectionately.
“Yeah…” Shige agreed, but there was a note of suspicion in his voice.
~
“I miss you.”
Koyama bit his lip. He hated it when the conversation took a turn in this direction. He wished it was only because he felt guilty for being the one who’d ended it, for being the one who did the hurting, but to a large extent, it was because he missed Ryo too. And when Ryo started saying things like that, Koyama couldn’t help but wonder if he could have tried harder to make it work; if he was letting go of something wonderful that he was never going to find again. It brought back memories of when they’d still been in puppy love and the distance had ached, but it hadn’t mattered as long as they’d each had a phone and one another’s voices.
“I’m sorry,” Koyama said. “I wish things… I mean. If things were different…”
“But they aren’t,” Ryo finished for him, and sighed. “I know. I know.”
They both fell silent, the hum of their connected phone lines the only sound they shared. Koyama’s tongue felt thick in his mouth, wouldn’t form words. Still, even if he’d been able to, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to tell Ryo that he missed him too or tell him he had to go.
Ryo made the decision for him in the end, speaking in a weary, worn tone.
“Well, it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow, but I guess I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. G’night.”
“Good night.” Koyama repeated, leaving Ryo to hang up first.
But even when the line went dead, he kept the phone to his ear, letting the dial tone beep away for a few moments he hung up too.
~
‘Doing anything tonight?’
Koyama stared at the mail for a moment, going through his schedule in his head and idly wondering if Tegoshi was incapable of making plans more than a few hours in advance.
‘I’m free. What’s up?’ He wrote back.
The reply came in a matter of minutes. ‘Want to go out for drinks tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to come along?’
Koyama considered this. He hadn’t been out properly in a while, and he didn’t have work until the afternoon tomorrow. He’d probably be sweet talked into paying for Tegoshi somehow, but they always had fun together, so what did he really have to lose?
‘Alright. When and where?’
When Tegoshi finally turned up outside the bar where they’d agreed to meet, 15 minutes late, he arrived with a friend in tow; a young fellow, a little shorter than Koyama, with bold features and dyed hair.
Koyama didn’t realise until Tegoshi was introducing the two of them - “Sou-kun, Kei-chan. Kei-chan, Sou-kun. We play soccer together” - that he was feeling the barest hint of animosity towards this guy that he’d never even met before. It surprised him; he rarely took an instant dislike to people, especially when they hadn’t given him any reason to.
It must be because he hadn’t realised anyone else was coming, Koyama decided. He sometimes got a bit jittery when plans were changed on him at the last minute, and until now, he’d expected that he and Tegoshi would be alone.
Satisfied with that explanation, Koyama greeted Sou with his usual warmth, and when Tegoshi slyly added that Sou watched Koyama’s segment of News Every each Thursday, the negative feelings disappeared completely.
The bar was filled with lively chatter, and though it was a bit smoky, it had a relaxing atmosphere. Koyama felt himself unwind after a bit of comfortable conversation over a couple of beers and some food, and they barely noticed how quickly the time had passed until it was already late.
“We should probably get going,” Koyama suggested when he noticed it was nearly midnight. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “I’ll get the bill.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll pay,” Sou insisted, already out of his seat.
“Do you naturally attract people who like to treat you, or do you actively seek them out?” Koyama raised an eyebrow, and Tegoshi grinned.
“I train them,” he said, his face straight, but couldn’t help dissolving into laughter when Koyama rolled his eyes and threw a bunched up napkin at him.
The three of them headed out of the bar in pretty high spirits, and when Koyama tried to say goodbye, Tegoshi was too wound up to let him go.
“I don’t want to go home yet. Let’s stay out, Kei-chan. You don’t have work tomorrow, right?” He looked at Koyama expectantly, beaming when he shook his head. “I want to dance. Let’s go to a club.”
“Who says? And I’m not really…” Koyama started to say, but Tegoshi was insistent, and neither he nor Sou really had the heart to say no.
They found somewhere nearby, a glitzy place that Tegoshi liked the look of, and Koyama bought them all another round of drinks. It didn’t take long for Tegoshi to pull them onto the dance floor though, and while Koyama was sometimes a little self-conscious about dancing when it wasn’t for work, Tegoshi’s enthusiasm pulled him in and chased away his inhibitions.
The music was pretty good, and they made it through a good number of tracks before some slow and tuneless, English drivel Koyama didn’t know came on, and Tegoshi was pulling them back to the bar to sit down. Tegoshi actually offered to buy their drinks this time, and they spent the next ten minutes nursing them and communicating to each other through hand signals.
It was as they were heading back onto the floor that Tegoshi started to laugh, and leant in to whisper in Koyama’s ear, “Look at that girl over there. You’d think the guy’s she’s dancing on was a pole or something.”
Tegoshi leant over to Sou, presumably to tell him the same thing, and pretty soon the three of them were in a fit of giggles watching the woman Tegoshi had pointed out.
Usually Koyama would’ve felt bad, laughing at the expense of people he didn’t know, but he was too buzzed from the alcohol, felt too light and carefree.
This lasted until Tegoshi decided it’d be funny to mimic the girl, grabbing Koyama by the hips and sliding down his body, pretending to grind on him. Sou was in hysterics watching them, and Koyama had to force himself to smile weakly and give Tegoshi a playful shove. Inside, his heart was beating at a hundred miles an hour, and he was sure his face was flushed from more than just consuming liquor.
Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.
~
Koyama knew what Ryo wanted just from the way he was looking at him. He’d seen that expression so many times before, always responded to that heated stare with an involuntary shiver and a rapid heartbeat.
Today was the first time all he wanted to do was avert his eyes.
Still, old habits die hard, and when Ryo placed a hand on the small of his back and his voice rumbled in his ear, telling Koyama, “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Koyama gave in as usual.
They ate dinner together at Ryo’s place, chatting and laughing together, teasing, and time wore on until it was late evening.
“Koyama,” Ryo said, coming up behind him and resting his head on his shoulder. His arms snaked around Koyama’s waist, and Koyama’s knees went weak as Ryo leant in to kiss his neck. “Let’s go to bed.”
Koyama bit his lip, hands resting lightly over the top of Ryo’s. “Actually, I should probably go home. I have an early start tomorrow and… I should sleep properly.”
He swallowed, unsure as to why he felt so nervous.
When Ryo replied, his voice was laden heavily with disappointment. “I could set the alarm for you.”
When Koyama didn’t say anything, Ryo took the hint and stepped back, letting him go, and Koyama turned to face him with a crooked smile. “Sorry. I just… it’s closer to my place, and going home to get my things before I went would be a bother.”
“No, I get it,” Ryo said gruffly. “That’s fine. I understand.”
Koyama was glad Ryo understood, because he certainly didn’t. He wondered about it all the way home. In all honesty, he didn’t actually have to be up that early. It had been a blatant excuse not to sleep with Ryo, and that confused him. Of course it was good - it was great - because it meant he was finally letting go… but why? Only two weeks ago, he’d practically tripped over himself to fall into bed with Ryo, and this week he was fibbing to get himself out of it.
Maybe, he decided as he slid into his own bed alone later that night, he’d realised it was just time to move on.
~
The magazine staff were nice enough to order lunch in for Koyama, Tegoshi and Massu after they did their photoshoot. Shige, Ryo and Yamapi had done solo shots earlier in the month, and since the remaining three of them had schedules that matched up, they’d been able to do theirs together.
Lunch was late arriving, and so the three of them were just waiting around, Tegoshi lying lengthways with his head in Koyama’s lap and his feet across Massu’s knees.
“It’s kind of the staff to do this for us.” Massu jostled Tegoshi’s feet a bit as he moved.
Tegoshi made a displeased noise, but didn’t comment beyond that. It was a miracle that Massu was allowing shoes to make contact with his pants in the first place and Tegoshi knew not to push it.
“I wonder what’s taking so long though?” Koyama said at the same moment as his stomach let out an appropriately timed rumble. “I’m starving.”
“I can go and ask,” Massu offered. “Tegoshi, can you move your feet please?”
He got no reply. Koyama looked down at his lap only to find, to his dismay, that Tegoshi was fast asleep. There was a beat, and then both Massu and Koyama broke out into quiet giggles.
“He really can sleep anywhere.” Massu shook his head, wiggling carefully out from beneath Tegoshi’s feet. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Koyama smiled down at the peaceful face in his lap, instinctively reaching down to brush a lock of hair from Tegoshi’s eyes. His hand lingered, fingers resting against a smooth cheek, and Tegoshi’s eyes fluttered open.
“Kei-chan.” He blinked, then yawned and it was the cutest thing Koyama had seen all day.
“Sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He went to remove his hand, finally realising he was still cupping Tegoshi’s face, but Tegoshi placed his own hand over the top of Koyama’s, holding it where it was.
“S’okay,” he murmured, grinning sleepily upwards.
Looking down at him, Koyama was struck by how utterly gorgeous Tegoshi was. His pretty, unassuming eyes, those sweet pink lips, sleep-soft features… he felt his heart rate soar and hoped with all his might that Tegoshi couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“The uh, lunch isn’t here yet,” Koyama said, trying to sound as smooth as possible and like he hadn’t just been contemplating what it would feel like to kiss Tegoshi.
Tegoshi just smiled another drowsy smile that made Koyama’s heart leap, and rolled on to his side, burying his face in Koyama’s shirt and nuzzling his belly.
“Okay,” he said around a yawn. “Wake me up when it’s here.”
Koyama gulped audibly, barely managing to force out a pathetically quiet, “‘kay…” and tried to resist the urge to stroke Tegoshi’s hair while he fell back asleep.
~
Ryo’s face when Koyama brought up the question of whether or not it was finally time for them to start seeing other people was one of the most stricken expressions he’d ever seen. He hastily tried to explain himself, fumbling with words about how they’d been holding on too long and it wasn’t healthy, but Ryo just shook his head.
“It hasn’t been that long,” he replied, complexion suddenly ashen. He looked ill.
Koyama was a little startled by the response. Ryo sounded like a child who was being asked to give up his best friend.
“It’s been months,” Koyama reminded him gently.
Months since that night they’d held each other for what they’d both thought was the last time. Months since the night Koyama had choked out apologies into Ryo’s neck between bouts of tears because he just couldn’t do it anymore and he was so sorry, but it had to end.
“Don’t you think it’s time to let go?” He tried again, attempting to ignore the way Ryo bit his lip, knowing it meant he was trying to hold something back.
“Why do we have to talk about this?” Ryo finally asked, and he was obviously trying to sound terse, but he couldn’t hide the hurt in his eyes. “We already broke up. You don’t have to discuss it with me if you’re… ready. Just don’t think you can say when I’m meant to be ready.”
“I’m not saying anything like that,” Koyama protested weakly, but a dark look from Ryo silenced him.
“It sounds like you are. I’ll move on when I’m ready, so don’t try to talk to me about seeing other people and moving on. There’s nothing between us anymore, so I don’t see why you need to bring it up. Do what you like, but don’t try to bring me into it.”
Ryo had never talked to him like that before, and it hurt a bit. Koyama tried to remind himself that Ryo was probably just upset, but it was hard. He hadn’t spoken like this to him before, not even on the night Koyama had told him that it was time to end it.
“It’s just… I know we broke up, but it sometimes feels like… I don’t know.” He wrung his hands, looking to Ryo for understanding. “It feels like there’s still something there. We keep coming back, and it’s almost like we never…”
“I don’t make you come back with me,” Ryo interrupted, and his voice was cold. “If you’re ready to start sleeping around, then who am I to stop you?
“I never said I was going to sleep around!” Koyama snapped, then immediately regretted it.
Ryo was obviously jealous; it didn’t take a genius to see that. But he was right too. In the back of his mind, Koyama still felt like he owed something to Ryo because they couldn’t let go of each other, but if he thought about it, neither of them had any claim over the other anymore. He didn’t need Ryo’s approval to chase after Tegoshi - because, Koyama had to admit, that was what this was about, and there was no point in denying it.
The two of them fell awkwardly silent, Koyama staring down at his clasped hands and Ryo gnawing on his lip, until Koyama finally spoke again in a soft voice.
“I think I’d better go,” he said, and Ryo wordlessly nodded him out.
Koyama left without the blessing he’d come for, but with the knowledge that he didn’t need it. And that was good enough.
~
Avoiding Tegoshi while he sorted out his feelings seemed like the most obvious course of action, but Koyama found that he didn’t really want to go down that road. He didn’t go out of his way to see him, but he didn’t make an effort to avoid Tegoshi either. And so, by coincidence, Tegoshi ended up nearby where Koyama was working on location a couple of weeks later, playing soccer on his day off. They agreed to meet up for dinner afterwards, and Koyama went to meet Tegoshi at the field, catching him while he was still dressed in his uniform.
“Kei-chan!”
He was a few hundred metres away, but it was still easy to see Tegoshi’s face split into a wide smile as he broke into a brisk run. He stopped abruptly, a couple of feet short from Koyama, wrinkling his nose.
“Yuck, sorry. I haven’t showered yet, so I probably smell. Better not touch you.”
He grinned, playful, nose still crinkled, and even after 7 years, Koyama was still amazed by how Tegoshi naturally managed to be so boyishly adorable.
“I’ll wait here until you’re done,” he told Tegoshi, waving him toward the changing rooms.
Privately, he thought that Tegoshi wasn’t unattractive this way at all. He’d had to quash thoughts of licking away the bead of sweat glistening from the hollow of his throat, tasting the salt of his skin as he combed his fingers through Tegoshi’s wild, windswept hair.
Koyama let Tegoshi decide where to eat, happy just following along and chatting about their days and other recent happenings in their lives.
It was no different to their usual outings together; plenty of chatter and laughter and casual brushes of limbs, but Koyama couldn’t help reacting differently to usual.
Tegoshi was probably both the most delightful and the most frustrating person in the world to develop feelings for, he decided as they ate. On one hand, there was no shortage of affection; Tegoshi touched and kissed, snuggled and flirted, and it was all just second nature to him. He was particularly affectionate with Koyama, had been for quite some time. But this same behaviour that made Koyama love struck and giddy also left him agitated. If it were anyone else, he’d be sure they had a more than friendly interest in him, but this was Tegoshi; it was just the way he was, didn’t necessarily mean anything, and while Koyama already knew this, he still managed to let himself be led on.
Tegoshi seemed pretty drowsy by the end of the meal, his active day finally catching up to him, but for once it was Koyama who wasn’t ready to split up just yet.
“You know, you talk about Skull-kun all the time, but I still haven’t met him yet,” Koyama said casually, hoping Tegoshi wouldn’t miss the blatant hint.
“You haven’t, have you.” Tegoshi looked thoughtful. “Well, if you’ve got time, it’d be fine if you wanted to come over.”
Koyama tried to keep his grin under control.
“I’ll take you up on that, papa,” he said, taking pleasure in the way that Tegoshi features scrunched as he smiled.
They played with Skull for a while, Koyama cooing over the little poodle which pleased Tegoshi to no end. Eventually the dog got tired and went to sleep, leaving the two of them curled up together on the couch, with Tegoshi half in Koyama’s lap. It always amazed Koyama that Tegoshi could be such a boy about things like soccer, and yet was still happy to cuddle up to his guy friends and snuggle them. He didn’t question it though, not if it meant he had a perfectly legitimate excuse to hold Tegoshi.
“I’m sleepy,” Tegoshi told him, breaking the long, comfortable silence that had enveloped the room.
“Hmm.”
Koyama hoped that wasn’t a polite way of telling him to leave. He assumed it wasn’t when Tegoshi lay his head on his shoulder, curls tickling Koyama’s cheek, and Koyama sucked his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it nervously.
“I’m really comfortable here. You can be my pillow,” Tegoshi continued, seemingly unaware that he’d managed to triple Koyama’s heart rate.
Tegoshi twisted his head, nose brushing against Koyama’s throat, and it was without even thinking that Koyama lifted his hand and let it travel between Tegoshi’s shoulder blades before sliding up the back of his neck and threading fingers through his hair.
“I don’t mind,” Koyama said, trying to keep his tone offhand, but instead it came out in a soft whisper that had him cringing.
It didn’t seem to bother Tegoshi much, though, and he just seemed to relax further against Koyama, almost sagging in his arms. Koyama resisted the urge to hold him tighter or do anything else inappropriate, but it was hard when all he wanted was to take Tegoshi’s chin between his fingers and lift his face so he could kiss him.
He managed to ignore it for the next ten minutes, but whenever Tegoshi let out a soft, sweet murmur, the urge flared, and eventually Koyama knew he had to leave or do something stupid.
“Tegoshi.” He spoke quietly, not wanting to spoil the atmosphere. “I think I’d better be off.”
It took a moment, but eventually Tegoshi uncurled from him, sitting up sluggishly and blinking at him. Koyama unconsciously licked his lips, unable to help staring into those pretty, sleepy eyes.
“Do you have to?” He asked, and Koyama swallowed, unable to tear his eyes from Tegoshi’s face.
He automatically tightened his arm around his waist, belatedly realising he also still had a hand pressed to the back of Tegoshi’s head. All it would take was a little bit of pressure, urging his face in closer, and Koyama could…
“I…” Koyama trailed off, wholly focused on the pink lips only inches from his own, and Tegoshi let out a slow, shaky breath.
“God, Kei-chan. Just do it already,” he breathed, and when Koyama only stared at him, confused, Tegoshi leant in and closed the gap between them.
It took him a while to register what was happening, going stock still as Tegoshi melted against him and grazed his slick lips against Koyama’s. He didn’t think to respond until after Tegoshi pulled away, a gentle, teasing expression in his features.
“Kei-chan. This is the part where you’re meant to kiss back.”
Koyama felt his cheeks heat up, but that only made Tegoshi’s face soften, and he placed a finger under Koyama’s chin and lifted it.
“Let’s try that again,” he murmured, and this time Koyama met him half way.
He wasn’t sure how they got from there to Tegoshi’s bedroom, only that there had been some fumbling with belts and that when Tegoshi had nibbled on his lip in an entirely maddening way, Koyama saw red and wanted nothing more than to take him between the sheets.
Tegoshi’s flushed, naked body had to be one of the most gorgeous sights Koyama had ever seen, and he took a moment to explore the contours of it with his eyes and hands, mapping him in his memory.
“I have things. In the drawer,” Tegoshi panted, trembling under Koyama’s long, deft fingers.
The box of condoms and lube were easy to find, but Koyama felt dark, ugly jealousy flaring inside him when he realised he wasn’t the first man to touch Tegoshi like this. It made him want to stake his claim, and he sucked a dark love bite onto the side of Tegoshi’s neck as he slid a finger inside him.
Koyama didn’t go home that night. Both of them had work the next day, but neither of them wanted him to leave, and so he stayed over, Tegoshi cocooned in his arms as he spooned him.
“So… was this just a one-time thing?” Koyama asked drowsily as he brushed Tegoshi’s hair away from his cheek so he could kiss it.
Tegoshi’s hand sought out his, and he tangled their fingers together.
“Is that what you want it to be?”
Koyama chuckled, nervous, and squeezed. “Since when have you ever prioritised what I want over what you want?”
Tegoshi wriggled out of his grip and did an awkward half flop-roll onto his side so he could bury his face in Koyama’s shoulder. Koyama circled his waist with his arms again, pulled him closer. They didn’t fit together in that familiar way that he and Ryo had; Tegoshi’s pelvic bone jutted into Koyama’s stomach, and he wasn’t used to the slightly rounder curve of his hips, but he still felt amazing, and Koyama could feel himself falling further.
“I won’t break your heart if you tell me you like me. I like you too,” Tegoshi said, and even though the words were muffled, it was still enough to make Koyama’s heart clench with affection.
~
It certainly wasn’t their last time together; in fact, very much the opposite. It was like a dam had burst, and suddenly the two of them were spending every waking moment they could afford in each other’s company. It reminded Koyama a little of when he’d first fallen for Ryo and they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other, but other than that, Ryo occupied surprisingly little of his thoughts. There wasn’t room for much else in there when he was constantly daydreaming about Tegoshi - “Do I want to know?” Shige asked him one day when he’d caught Koyama out, and Koyama’s face had lit up tomato red - and he felt very little guilt when he and Ryo didn’t see each other, barely even called each other, over the next few weeks.
The time away from each other stretched out until a couple of days later when the two of them ended up in the same building for work. Koyama was just getting ready to go when Ryo dropped in to see him, hanging back a little until Koyama was all set to leave.
“I haven’t seen you for a while.” Ryo fell into step beside him, hand lingering briefly at the small of his back. “Are you busy now?”
Koyama bit his lip, realised that Ryo had no idea what he’d been up to the last few weeks.
“Not really, no,” he replied. He’d planned to go and surprise Tegoshi after work, but knowing that boy, he’d still be out practicing soccer and Koyama had a bit of time to spare.
Besides, now that he was with him, could hear his voice, smell his cologne, Koyama kind of missed Ryo.
“Do you want to come home with me?” Ryo asked, and Koyama realised that even though it felt like everything had changed for him during the past month, for Ryo, nothing had changed at all.
He opened his mouth to suggest they go somewhere else for a catch up and a bite to eat, but somehow his lips ended up forming the word “yes” instead.
He could control himself, Koyama decided, as the fell into the usual routine. He’d managed it once before now, and he could do it again. Of course, it was harder to believe that with Ryo’s dark gaze locking with his own, and the casual brush of his fingers at Koyama’s waist.
It would be different, he thought as they were sitting down together, Ryo’s hand on his thigh, if Ryo knew about Tegoshi. He didn’t want to bring it up, to rub it in Ryo’s face, but suddenly that seemed kinder than this kind of behaviour; this leading him on.
“I’ve missed you,” Ryo was saying as Koyama came to this conclusion, hand inching higher up his leg. “It’s been a while.”
Koyama swallowed, unsure of how to proceed.
“I know. I’ve been…” He paused, trying to figure out how to word this. “You know how I was saying it was time for us to see other people? I just… I mean, I…”
He didn’t get much further than that before Ryo had his face in his hands, lips pressed insistently to Koyama’s.
He should stop him, Koyama thought with a pang of guilt, but when Ryo’s tongue met his, brushing against it in suggestive patterns, he gave in. Ryo smelt, tasted, felt so familiar, and it was so easy fall back into their routine and get swept along in the tide of sensations.
It wasn’t until Ryo was inside him that Koyama realised the thought of Tegoshi wasn’t going to leave his mind.
‘You’re not exclusive,’ he told himself, arching into Ryo’s touch and wishing he could get the memory of Tegoshi’s smaller, softer fingers out of his head. ‘You’re not cheating on Tegoshi, you don’t need to feel bad.’
When they lay together afterwards, arms around each other and the soft puff of Ryo’s breath on his neck, Koyama couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. He and Ryo fit together so well, but he’d gotten used to the places where Tegoshi didn’t fit him, the places where his bony parts jutted out, his physical build so different to Ryo’s, that it just felt empty.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he started to say, but Ryo hushed him with a finger over his lips.
“Just don’t…” he began gruffly, but then his voice seemed to shrink, getting softer and smaller, more unsure. “Just let me pretend. A little longer.”
Koyama didn’t reply, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let him.
When Koyama woke up the next morning, the bed was empty. He could hear Ryo shuffling around in the kitchen, accompanied by the occasional thump or clang. This would probably be the last time he’d be able to listen to these familiar morning-after noises, and so Koyama lay back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling and letting them wash over him.
Half an hour later, he finally emerged into the main living space, hair wet from the shower and dressed in a fresh change of clothes. Ryo was still in his dressing gown, sipping from a cup of tea.
“Want one?” He asked, but he didn’t meet Koyama’s eyes.
He must know too, Koyama realised, that this was it. The thought gave him the conviction he needed to finally go ahead and say what he needed to.
“No thank you. Ryo, can I... can we talk please?”
Ryo stiffened, the lines of his body going still and rigid, and Koyama could see an internal battle being waged in the expressions on his downcast face. Then suddenly, he sighed and sagged.
“Yeah. But you don’t need to say anything. I get it.”
“Yeah...” Koyama wrung his hands, scuffed the floor with his foot. “Yeah. Well.”
“You can just say it’s over,” Ryo supplied for him. “Finally time to let go. I’ll try to let go too.”
Koyama nodded, feeling a little shy. “Okay. Still friends, right?”
Ryo laughed, and though it was somewhat rueful, there was a touch of real humour behind it.
“We have to be. We’re in the same band, right?”
Koyama’s lips quirked up into a smile. It was still on his face when he left ten minutes later.
~
The question just popped out a couple of weeks later. Tegoshi was lounging in Koyama’s lap, nuzzling his jaw, as cute as usual, and Koyama wasn’t even thinking when his mouth started to move.
“I think I’d like it if you were my boyfriend.”
He resisted the urge to clap his hand over his mouth the moment the words were out, but his face still felt like it was burning, especially when Tegoshi started to giggle.
Koyama was about ready to crawl off and find a hole to die in when Tegoshi finally got control of himself.
“That wasn’t romantic at all,” he said seriously. “But I love you anyway. I think I’d like to be your boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” Koyama’s grin was so wide it threatened to split his face.
“It means I don’t have to share you, right?”
Tegoshi squawked in indignation when Koyama slapped him on the head, but he let him make it up to him later.
~
“That should be the last of it, right?”
“You keep saying that,” Ryo grumbled, “But I keep finding your stuff hidden away in the weirdest places. If you can explain why your necklace was lying around in my kitchen, I’m dying to know.”
Koyama shrugged, nudging one of the boxes of Ryo’s things with his toes.
“If I find anything else, I’ll give it back the next time I see you.”
“Yeah,” Ryo agreed, but he looked distracted. “Hey, Koyama?”
“Mm?”
Ryo seemed hesitant, but eventually continued, “How’s it going with Tego? Alright?”
“Do you really want the answer to that?” Koyama raised an eyebrow.
He was almost expecting a no, but Ryo nodded stoically.
Koyama smiled. “Things are great. I’m really happy.”
“That’s good.” Ryo bent down and hefted the box up into his arms. “But if you ever need to talk about anything... I’m here to listen.”
His ears went a little red as he said it, and Koyama had to suppress a chuckle.
“Thank you. Knowing Tegoshi, I’m sure I’ll need to eventually.”
“It’s no problem.” Ryo waved it off. “Just otherwise... don’t shove it in our faces, okay? You two can be kind of gross. Keep it on the down low, okay?”
This time Koyama really did laugh. “You’re bringing that issue up with the wrong person.”
They carried the boxes out to Ryo’s car together, saying goodbye at the door when Ryo insisted he could manage the last one by himself.
“I’ll see you at work,” he nodded, unable to wave with the box in his hands.
Koyama watched him go, noting the way he held his head high, his squared shoulders and his broad back. He looked more confident, maybe even happier than he had a month ago.
He shut the door to the apartment at the same moment as Tegoshi’s ringtone began to play from his pocket, and as he answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear, Koyama thought that maybe some change once in a while wasn’t such a bad thing.
Pairing: Koyama/Tegoshi, Koyama/Ryo
Rating: PG-13
Words: ~7,000
A/N: Dear Tara, I will finish all your presents before Christmas. :| I hope you enjoy, because I think you're the only person in the world who will read KoyaRyo and KoyaTego. XD Title and cut-text shamelessly poached from Dave Dobbyn's "Loyal".
Summary: Koyama finds it difficult to let go of Ryo, until Tegoshi gives him a reason.
Koyama liked the way Ryo felt moulded against his back, arm wrapped securely around his waist and face pressed into the crook of his neck. It felt good, familiar, and they meshed so well, the lines of Ryo’s body fitting neatly into the dips of Koyama’s like a jigsaw.
“God, I don’t feel like being on the train for three hours tomorrow,” Ryo muttered in warm puffs of air against Koyama’s hair.
“Mmm.” Koyama’s reply was noncommittal, but his hand joined Ryo’s where it rested on his stomach and stroked comfortingly along his fingers. He could tell by now when Ryo wanted sympathy, advice, or just needed to vent.
Ryo breathed out deep in an almost-sigh, then pressed a kiss to the side of Koyama’s neck and nuzzled the soft spot under his air that they both knew caused tingles to run like lightening down his spine.
Koyama closed his eyes and tilted his head back, leaning it onto Ryo’s shoulder. They were so good together. It almost made him want to ask for him back, ask him if he wanted to try again.
But the train ride back to Osaka tomorrow and subsequent weeks in which they wouldn’t be seeing each other made him bite his tongue, because as good as they’d been together, it was much better if they stayed apart.
~
“I like doing photo shoots with you,” Tegoshi told Koyama suddenly as they were in the middle of having their makeup retouched. “It’s better than with Shige.”
“Why?” Koyama asked, trying hard not to move his face too much as it was assaulted with a makeup brush. “Does Shige not buy you lunch afterwards?”
Koyama wasn’t sure why he bothered teasing Tegoshi, because the only response he got to that was a cheery, “Are you offering? Thanks Kei-chan!”
It was lucky he was cute, or no one would be nearly as willing to put up with his antics, Koyama thought, regarding Tegoshi’s delicate features, scrunched with mischievous amusement.
He bought Tegoshi lunch anyway, never one to resist a chance to spoil his friends, and as usual, Tegoshi made it more than worth it - so charming when he got his own way. Tomorrow it would be as though it hadn’t happened, Koyama knew, but right now he felt like the nicest person in the world. Tegoshi’s bouts of thankfulness were much like the rest of him; short, but extreme.
“Kei-chan, thank you so much,” Tegoshi said for about the fourth time, twining his arm around Koyama’s. “That was so good.”
Even after years of excessive affection, Koyama wasn’t entirely used to the way Tegoshi behaved as though no one was watching them when they were in public. He had learned just to accept it though: Tegoshi, like gravity, was a nigh unstoppable force.
“Maybe you can return the favour next time,” Koyama suggested, mostly in jest. It was almost as ludicrous as asking Massu if you could mess with his hair.
“Maybe when I’m a bit older,” Tegoshi said, in what Koyama was sure was the lightest, most dismissive tone in his repertoire.
“You’ll still be saying that when you’re 30, you little devil.” Koyama rolled his eyes, but he could never be seriously frustrated with Tegoshi; not with his endearing giggle and bright eyes.
That boy, he swore, could get away with murder.
~
It didn’t take much more than Ryo’s fingers trailing lightly down the back of his neck and his dark, intense eyes fixed on Koyama to get him to agree when Ryo asked in a low, rough voice, “Come home with me.”
As always it felt so good, so right, lying together in a tangle of limbs and exchanging soft, open mouthed kisses. The way Ryo panted raggedly in his ear as he drew Koyama deeper into him was comfortingly familiar, as was the way his fingers traced well-travelled paths down bare skin.
Afterwards was always the issue, when Ryo would hold Koyama close, and Koyama would loop his arms around Ryo’s waist and let his mind wander. They were meant to be letting go and moving on, but he wasn’t sure how that was possible when they kept coming back to each other.
When Ryo pressed lazy kisses to his shoulder and Koyama’s hands automatically moved to cup his hips and pull him closer, it almost seemed as though it was impossible. They were still in love, drawn to one another like magnets, and yet Koyama couldn’t stand the weeks, occasionally months apart at a time. It was okay for a colleague, okay even for a friend, but for a lover… he deserved more than that, and Ryo deserved someone who could handle it.
Perhaps this was their way of attuning to the new situation, Koyama justified it to himself. They’d get used to it eventually, drift apart and remain good friends. It was okay if it was slow, if they needed these moments together first. Who knew, maybe this would be the last time.
He tried to ignore the fact that it was always ‘maybe’ the last time, distracted by the warmth of Ryo’s body in his arms.
~
“I’m kind of hungry.”
“No,” Shige replied, before Tegoshi had a chance to say anything else.
Tegoshi frowned. “No what? No, I’m not hungry? I don’t think it’s up to you to tell me whether I’m hungry or not, Shige.”
Koyama tried not to laugh at their antics, pretending to be very interested in the messages he didn’t actually have on his phone and hiding a smile behind a cough.
“No, we’re not going out to eat. We spent enough on bowling and shopping. I’m going home and cooking for myself.”
“You don’t have to buy anything, you only have to come and keep me company,” Tegoshi suggested, but Shige just snorted.
“Sounds thrilling,” he said, and even Tegoshi could pick up on blatant sarcasm when it was rubbed right in his face.
Koyama could see the cogs in Tegoshi’s head turning, and knew even before he started to swivel his head in Koyama’s direction that he was about to be talked into being Tegoshi’s lunch buddy instead. But in this case, Koyama was on Shige’s side. They’d already spent way too much money today and, unlike Tegoshi who didn’t seem to care, he was actually concerned with having money once he reached retirement age.
“Why don’t we go back to Shige’s place with him? He can cook us dinner. You have been promising to make me that Taiwanese recipe for ages,” he said, and Shige sighed, but gave in quickly.
Koyama and Tegoshi kept themselves entertained while Shige cooked, and they obediently told him it was delicious as they ate. Tegoshi offered to do the dishes afterwards while Shige and Koyama lounged about on the sofa and chatted about whatever came to mind.
They chose a movie to watch from Shige’s rather extensive collection, and Tegoshi settled down between the two of them, barging into their personal space. He curled his legs up underneath him, feet poking into Shige’s thigh, and leant against Koyama, wiggling until he was comfortable. Koyama didn’t push him away, instead letting his arm fall down behind Tegoshi, almost curling around his waist.
It quickly became apparent that the movie was too artsy and intellectual to watch without concentrating, and the Koyama and Tegoshi were too tired to try. They spent most of the film whispering to each other while Shige was engrossed in the story.
Tegoshi’s breathy voice tickled his ear, and Koyama couldn’t help the slight shiver that ran through him. He wasn’t sure when Tegoshi fell asleep, just that eventually he realised his breathing had become deep and steady and his head had started to tip back at a ridiculous angle.
Koyama chuckled to himself, and guided Tegoshi’s head onto his shoulder. He didn’t realise he was watching him with soft, fond eyes until he caught Shige giving him a strange look.
“He’s such a kid,” Koyama said affectionately.
“Yeah…” Shige agreed, but there was a note of suspicion in his voice.
~
“I miss you.”
Koyama bit his lip. He hated it when the conversation took a turn in this direction. He wished it was only because he felt guilty for being the one who’d ended it, for being the one who did the hurting, but to a large extent, it was because he missed Ryo too. And when Ryo started saying things like that, Koyama couldn’t help but wonder if he could have tried harder to make it work; if he was letting go of something wonderful that he was never going to find again. It brought back memories of when they’d still been in puppy love and the distance had ached, but it hadn’t mattered as long as they’d each had a phone and one another’s voices.
“I’m sorry,” Koyama said. “I wish things… I mean. If things were different…”
“But they aren’t,” Ryo finished for him, and sighed. “I know. I know.”
They both fell silent, the hum of their connected phone lines the only sound they shared. Koyama’s tongue felt thick in his mouth, wouldn’t form words. Still, even if he’d been able to, he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to tell Ryo that he missed him too or tell him he had to go.
Ryo made the decision for him in the end, speaking in a weary, worn tone.
“Well, it’s getting late. I have an early start tomorrow, but I guess I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. G’night.”
“Good night.” Koyama repeated, leaving Ryo to hang up first.
But even when the line went dead, he kept the phone to his ear, letting the dial tone beep away for a few moments he hung up too.
~
‘Doing anything tonight?’
Koyama stared at the mail for a moment, going through his schedule in his head and idly wondering if Tegoshi was incapable of making plans more than a few hours in advance.
‘I’m free. What’s up?’ He wrote back.
The reply came in a matter of minutes. ‘Want to go out for drinks tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to come along?’
Koyama considered this. He hadn’t been out properly in a while, and he didn’t have work until the afternoon tomorrow. He’d probably be sweet talked into paying for Tegoshi somehow, but they always had fun together, so what did he really have to lose?
‘Alright. When and where?’
When Tegoshi finally turned up outside the bar where they’d agreed to meet, 15 minutes late, he arrived with a friend in tow; a young fellow, a little shorter than Koyama, with bold features and dyed hair.
Koyama didn’t realise until Tegoshi was introducing the two of them - “Sou-kun, Kei-chan. Kei-chan, Sou-kun. We play soccer together” - that he was feeling the barest hint of animosity towards this guy that he’d never even met before. It surprised him; he rarely took an instant dislike to people, especially when they hadn’t given him any reason to.
It must be because he hadn’t realised anyone else was coming, Koyama decided. He sometimes got a bit jittery when plans were changed on him at the last minute, and until now, he’d expected that he and Tegoshi would be alone.
Satisfied with that explanation, Koyama greeted Sou with his usual warmth, and when Tegoshi slyly added that Sou watched Koyama’s segment of News Every each Thursday, the negative feelings disappeared completely.
The bar was filled with lively chatter, and though it was a bit smoky, it had a relaxing atmosphere. Koyama felt himself unwind after a bit of comfortable conversation over a couple of beers and some food, and they barely noticed how quickly the time had passed until it was already late.
“We should probably get going,” Koyama suggested when he noticed it was nearly midnight. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wallet. “I’ll get the bill.”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll pay,” Sou insisted, already out of his seat.
“Do you naturally attract people who like to treat you, or do you actively seek them out?” Koyama raised an eyebrow, and Tegoshi grinned.
“I train them,” he said, his face straight, but couldn’t help dissolving into laughter when Koyama rolled his eyes and threw a bunched up napkin at him.
The three of them headed out of the bar in pretty high spirits, and when Koyama tried to say goodbye, Tegoshi was too wound up to let him go.
“I don’t want to go home yet. Let’s stay out, Kei-chan. You don’t have work tomorrow, right?” He looked at Koyama expectantly, beaming when he shook his head. “I want to dance. Let’s go to a club.”
“Who says? And I’m not really…” Koyama started to say, but Tegoshi was insistent, and neither he nor Sou really had the heart to say no.
They found somewhere nearby, a glitzy place that Tegoshi liked the look of, and Koyama bought them all another round of drinks. It didn’t take long for Tegoshi to pull them onto the dance floor though, and while Koyama was sometimes a little self-conscious about dancing when it wasn’t for work, Tegoshi’s enthusiasm pulled him in and chased away his inhibitions.
The music was pretty good, and they made it through a good number of tracks before some slow and tuneless, English drivel Koyama didn’t know came on, and Tegoshi was pulling them back to the bar to sit down. Tegoshi actually offered to buy their drinks this time, and they spent the next ten minutes nursing them and communicating to each other through hand signals.
It was as they were heading back onto the floor that Tegoshi started to laugh, and leant in to whisper in Koyama’s ear, “Look at that girl over there. You’d think the guy’s she’s dancing on was a pole or something.”
Tegoshi leant over to Sou, presumably to tell him the same thing, and pretty soon the three of them were in a fit of giggles watching the woman Tegoshi had pointed out.
Usually Koyama would’ve felt bad, laughing at the expense of people he didn’t know, but he was too buzzed from the alcohol, felt too light and carefree.
This lasted until Tegoshi decided it’d be funny to mimic the girl, grabbing Koyama by the hips and sliding down his body, pretending to grind on him. Sou was in hysterics watching them, and Koyama had to force himself to smile weakly and give Tegoshi a playful shove. Inside, his heart was beating at a hundred miles an hour, and he was sure his face was flushed from more than just consuming liquor.
Whatever this was, it couldn’t be good.
~
Koyama knew what Ryo wanted just from the way he was looking at him. He’d seen that expression so many times before, always responded to that heated stare with an involuntary shiver and a rapid heartbeat.
Today was the first time all he wanted to do was avert his eyes.
Still, old habits die hard, and when Ryo placed a hand on the small of his back and his voice rumbled in his ear, telling Koyama, “I don’t want to be alone tonight,” Koyama gave in as usual.
They ate dinner together at Ryo’s place, chatting and laughing together, teasing, and time wore on until it was late evening.
“Koyama,” Ryo said, coming up behind him and resting his head on his shoulder. His arms snaked around Koyama’s waist, and Koyama’s knees went weak as Ryo leant in to kiss his neck. “Let’s go to bed.”
Koyama bit his lip, hands resting lightly over the top of Ryo’s. “Actually, I should probably go home. I have an early start tomorrow and… I should sleep properly.”
He swallowed, unsure as to why he felt so nervous.
When Ryo replied, his voice was laden heavily with disappointment. “I could set the alarm for you.”
When Koyama didn’t say anything, Ryo took the hint and stepped back, letting him go, and Koyama turned to face him with a crooked smile. “Sorry. I just… it’s closer to my place, and going home to get my things before I went would be a bother.”
“No, I get it,” Ryo said gruffly. “That’s fine. I understand.”
Koyama was glad Ryo understood, because he certainly didn’t. He wondered about it all the way home. In all honesty, he didn’t actually have to be up that early. It had been a blatant excuse not to sleep with Ryo, and that confused him. Of course it was good - it was great - because it meant he was finally letting go… but why? Only two weeks ago, he’d practically tripped over himself to fall into bed with Ryo, and this week he was fibbing to get himself out of it.
Maybe, he decided as he slid into his own bed alone later that night, he’d realised it was just time to move on.
~
The magazine staff were nice enough to order lunch in for Koyama, Tegoshi and Massu after they did their photoshoot. Shige, Ryo and Yamapi had done solo shots earlier in the month, and since the remaining three of them had schedules that matched up, they’d been able to do theirs together.
Lunch was late arriving, and so the three of them were just waiting around, Tegoshi lying lengthways with his head in Koyama’s lap and his feet across Massu’s knees.
“It’s kind of the staff to do this for us.” Massu jostled Tegoshi’s feet a bit as he moved.
Tegoshi made a displeased noise, but didn’t comment beyond that. It was a miracle that Massu was allowing shoes to make contact with his pants in the first place and Tegoshi knew not to push it.
“I wonder what’s taking so long though?” Koyama said at the same moment as his stomach let out an appropriately timed rumble. “I’m starving.”
“I can go and ask,” Massu offered. “Tegoshi, can you move your feet please?”
He got no reply. Koyama looked down at his lap only to find, to his dismay, that Tegoshi was fast asleep. There was a beat, and then both Massu and Koyama broke out into quiet giggles.
“He really can sleep anywhere.” Massu shook his head, wiggling carefully out from beneath Tegoshi’s feet. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
Koyama smiled down at the peaceful face in his lap, instinctively reaching down to brush a lock of hair from Tegoshi’s eyes. His hand lingered, fingers resting against a smooth cheek, and Tegoshi’s eyes fluttered open.
“Kei-chan.” He blinked, then yawned and it was the cutest thing Koyama had seen all day.
“Sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He went to remove his hand, finally realising he was still cupping Tegoshi’s face, but Tegoshi placed his own hand over the top of Koyama’s, holding it where it was.
“S’okay,” he murmured, grinning sleepily upwards.
Looking down at him, Koyama was struck by how utterly gorgeous Tegoshi was. His pretty, unassuming eyes, those sweet pink lips, sleep-soft features… he felt his heart rate soar and hoped with all his might that Tegoshi couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
“The uh, lunch isn’t here yet,” Koyama said, trying to sound as smooth as possible and like he hadn’t just been contemplating what it would feel like to kiss Tegoshi.
Tegoshi just smiled another drowsy smile that made Koyama’s heart leap, and rolled on to his side, burying his face in Koyama’s shirt and nuzzling his belly.
“Okay,” he said around a yawn. “Wake me up when it’s here.”
Koyama gulped audibly, barely managing to force out a pathetically quiet, “‘kay…” and tried to resist the urge to stroke Tegoshi’s hair while he fell back asleep.
~
Ryo’s face when Koyama brought up the question of whether or not it was finally time for them to start seeing other people was one of the most stricken expressions he’d ever seen. He hastily tried to explain himself, fumbling with words about how they’d been holding on too long and it wasn’t healthy, but Ryo just shook his head.
“It hasn’t been that long,” he replied, complexion suddenly ashen. He looked ill.
Koyama was a little startled by the response. Ryo sounded like a child who was being asked to give up his best friend.
“It’s been months,” Koyama reminded him gently.
Months since that night they’d held each other for what they’d both thought was the last time. Months since the night Koyama had choked out apologies into Ryo’s neck between bouts of tears because he just couldn’t do it anymore and he was so sorry, but it had to end.
“Don’t you think it’s time to let go?” He tried again, attempting to ignore the way Ryo bit his lip, knowing it meant he was trying to hold something back.
“Why do we have to talk about this?” Ryo finally asked, and he was obviously trying to sound terse, but he couldn’t hide the hurt in his eyes. “We already broke up. You don’t have to discuss it with me if you’re… ready. Just don’t think you can say when I’m meant to be ready.”
“I’m not saying anything like that,” Koyama protested weakly, but a dark look from Ryo silenced him.
“It sounds like you are. I’ll move on when I’m ready, so don’t try to talk to me about seeing other people and moving on. There’s nothing between us anymore, so I don’t see why you need to bring it up. Do what you like, but don’t try to bring me into it.”
Ryo had never talked to him like that before, and it hurt a bit. Koyama tried to remind himself that Ryo was probably just upset, but it was hard. He hadn’t spoken like this to him before, not even on the night Koyama had told him that it was time to end it.
“It’s just… I know we broke up, but it sometimes feels like… I don’t know.” He wrung his hands, looking to Ryo for understanding. “It feels like there’s still something there. We keep coming back, and it’s almost like we never…”
“I don’t make you come back with me,” Ryo interrupted, and his voice was cold. “If you’re ready to start sleeping around, then who am I to stop you?
“I never said I was going to sleep around!” Koyama snapped, then immediately regretted it.
Ryo was obviously jealous; it didn’t take a genius to see that. But he was right too. In the back of his mind, Koyama still felt like he owed something to Ryo because they couldn’t let go of each other, but if he thought about it, neither of them had any claim over the other anymore. He didn’t need Ryo’s approval to chase after Tegoshi - because, Koyama had to admit, that was what this was about, and there was no point in denying it.
The two of them fell awkwardly silent, Koyama staring down at his clasped hands and Ryo gnawing on his lip, until Koyama finally spoke again in a soft voice.
“I think I’d better go,” he said, and Ryo wordlessly nodded him out.
Koyama left without the blessing he’d come for, but with the knowledge that he didn’t need it. And that was good enough.
~
Avoiding Tegoshi while he sorted out his feelings seemed like the most obvious course of action, but Koyama found that he didn’t really want to go down that road. He didn’t go out of his way to see him, but he didn’t make an effort to avoid Tegoshi either. And so, by coincidence, Tegoshi ended up nearby where Koyama was working on location a couple of weeks later, playing soccer on his day off. They agreed to meet up for dinner afterwards, and Koyama went to meet Tegoshi at the field, catching him while he was still dressed in his uniform.
“Kei-chan!”
He was a few hundred metres away, but it was still easy to see Tegoshi’s face split into a wide smile as he broke into a brisk run. He stopped abruptly, a couple of feet short from Koyama, wrinkling his nose.
“Yuck, sorry. I haven’t showered yet, so I probably smell. Better not touch you.”
He grinned, playful, nose still crinkled, and even after 7 years, Koyama was still amazed by how Tegoshi naturally managed to be so boyishly adorable.
“I’ll wait here until you’re done,” he told Tegoshi, waving him toward the changing rooms.
Privately, he thought that Tegoshi wasn’t unattractive this way at all. He’d had to quash thoughts of licking away the bead of sweat glistening from the hollow of his throat, tasting the salt of his skin as he combed his fingers through Tegoshi’s wild, windswept hair.
Koyama let Tegoshi decide where to eat, happy just following along and chatting about their days and other recent happenings in their lives.
It was no different to their usual outings together; plenty of chatter and laughter and casual brushes of limbs, but Koyama couldn’t help reacting differently to usual.
Tegoshi was probably both the most delightful and the most frustrating person in the world to develop feelings for, he decided as they ate. On one hand, there was no shortage of affection; Tegoshi touched and kissed, snuggled and flirted, and it was all just second nature to him. He was particularly affectionate with Koyama, had been for quite some time. But this same behaviour that made Koyama love struck and giddy also left him agitated. If it were anyone else, he’d be sure they had a more than friendly interest in him, but this was Tegoshi; it was just the way he was, didn’t necessarily mean anything, and while Koyama already knew this, he still managed to let himself be led on.
Tegoshi seemed pretty drowsy by the end of the meal, his active day finally catching up to him, but for once it was Koyama who wasn’t ready to split up just yet.
“You know, you talk about Skull-kun all the time, but I still haven’t met him yet,” Koyama said casually, hoping Tegoshi wouldn’t miss the blatant hint.
“You haven’t, have you.” Tegoshi looked thoughtful. “Well, if you’ve got time, it’d be fine if you wanted to come over.”
Koyama tried to keep his grin under control.
“I’ll take you up on that, papa,” he said, taking pleasure in the way that Tegoshi features scrunched as he smiled.
They played with Skull for a while, Koyama cooing over the little poodle which pleased Tegoshi to no end. Eventually the dog got tired and went to sleep, leaving the two of them curled up together on the couch, with Tegoshi half in Koyama’s lap. It always amazed Koyama that Tegoshi could be such a boy about things like soccer, and yet was still happy to cuddle up to his guy friends and snuggle them. He didn’t question it though, not if it meant he had a perfectly legitimate excuse to hold Tegoshi.
“I’m sleepy,” Tegoshi told him, breaking the long, comfortable silence that had enveloped the room.
“Hmm.”
Koyama hoped that wasn’t a polite way of telling him to leave. He assumed it wasn’t when Tegoshi lay his head on his shoulder, curls tickling Koyama’s cheek, and Koyama sucked his lip between his teeth, nibbling at it nervously.
“I’m really comfortable here. You can be my pillow,” Tegoshi continued, seemingly unaware that he’d managed to triple Koyama’s heart rate.
Tegoshi twisted his head, nose brushing against Koyama’s throat, and it was without even thinking that Koyama lifted his hand and let it travel between Tegoshi’s shoulder blades before sliding up the back of his neck and threading fingers through his hair.
“I don’t mind,” Koyama said, trying to keep his tone offhand, but instead it came out in a soft whisper that had him cringing.
It didn’t seem to bother Tegoshi much, though, and he just seemed to relax further against Koyama, almost sagging in his arms. Koyama resisted the urge to hold him tighter or do anything else inappropriate, but it was hard when all he wanted was to take Tegoshi’s chin between his fingers and lift his face so he could kiss him.
He managed to ignore it for the next ten minutes, but whenever Tegoshi let out a soft, sweet murmur, the urge flared, and eventually Koyama knew he had to leave or do something stupid.
“Tegoshi.” He spoke quietly, not wanting to spoil the atmosphere. “I think I’d better be off.”
It took a moment, but eventually Tegoshi uncurled from him, sitting up sluggishly and blinking at him. Koyama unconsciously licked his lips, unable to help staring into those pretty, sleepy eyes.
“Do you have to?” He asked, and Koyama swallowed, unable to tear his eyes from Tegoshi’s face.
He automatically tightened his arm around his waist, belatedly realising he also still had a hand pressed to the back of Tegoshi’s head. All it would take was a little bit of pressure, urging his face in closer, and Koyama could…
“I…” Koyama trailed off, wholly focused on the pink lips only inches from his own, and Tegoshi let out a slow, shaky breath.
“God, Kei-chan. Just do it already,” he breathed, and when Koyama only stared at him, confused, Tegoshi leant in and closed the gap between them.
It took him a while to register what was happening, going stock still as Tegoshi melted against him and grazed his slick lips against Koyama’s. He didn’t think to respond until after Tegoshi pulled away, a gentle, teasing expression in his features.
“Kei-chan. This is the part where you’re meant to kiss back.”
Koyama felt his cheeks heat up, but that only made Tegoshi’s face soften, and he placed a finger under Koyama’s chin and lifted it.
“Let’s try that again,” he murmured, and this time Koyama met him half way.
He wasn’t sure how they got from there to Tegoshi’s bedroom, only that there had been some fumbling with belts and that when Tegoshi had nibbled on his lip in an entirely maddening way, Koyama saw red and wanted nothing more than to take him between the sheets.
Tegoshi’s flushed, naked body had to be one of the most gorgeous sights Koyama had ever seen, and he took a moment to explore the contours of it with his eyes and hands, mapping him in his memory.
“I have things. In the drawer,” Tegoshi panted, trembling under Koyama’s long, deft fingers.
The box of condoms and lube were easy to find, but Koyama felt dark, ugly jealousy flaring inside him when he realised he wasn’t the first man to touch Tegoshi like this. It made him want to stake his claim, and he sucked a dark love bite onto the side of Tegoshi’s neck as he slid a finger inside him.
Koyama didn’t go home that night. Both of them had work the next day, but neither of them wanted him to leave, and so he stayed over, Tegoshi cocooned in his arms as he spooned him.
“So… was this just a one-time thing?” Koyama asked drowsily as he brushed Tegoshi’s hair away from his cheek so he could kiss it.
Tegoshi’s hand sought out his, and he tangled their fingers together.
“Is that what you want it to be?”
Koyama chuckled, nervous, and squeezed. “Since when have you ever prioritised what I want over what you want?”
Tegoshi wriggled out of his grip and did an awkward half flop-roll onto his side so he could bury his face in Koyama’s shoulder. Koyama circled his waist with his arms again, pulled him closer. They didn’t fit together in that familiar way that he and Ryo had; Tegoshi’s pelvic bone jutted into Koyama’s stomach, and he wasn’t used to the slightly rounder curve of his hips, but he still felt amazing, and Koyama could feel himself falling further.
“I won’t break your heart if you tell me you like me. I like you too,” Tegoshi said, and even though the words were muffled, it was still enough to make Koyama’s heart clench with affection.
~
It certainly wasn’t their last time together; in fact, very much the opposite. It was like a dam had burst, and suddenly the two of them were spending every waking moment they could afford in each other’s company. It reminded Koyama a little of when he’d first fallen for Ryo and they hadn’t been able to get enough of each other, but other than that, Ryo occupied surprisingly little of his thoughts. There wasn’t room for much else in there when he was constantly daydreaming about Tegoshi - “Do I want to know?” Shige asked him one day when he’d caught Koyama out, and Koyama’s face had lit up tomato red - and he felt very little guilt when he and Ryo didn’t see each other, barely even called each other, over the next few weeks.
The time away from each other stretched out until a couple of days later when the two of them ended up in the same building for work. Koyama was just getting ready to go when Ryo dropped in to see him, hanging back a little until Koyama was all set to leave.
“I haven’t seen you for a while.” Ryo fell into step beside him, hand lingering briefly at the small of his back. “Are you busy now?”
Koyama bit his lip, realised that Ryo had no idea what he’d been up to the last few weeks.
“Not really, no,” he replied. He’d planned to go and surprise Tegoshi after work, but knowing that boy, he’d still be out practicing soccer and Koyama had a bit of time to spare.
Besides, now that he was with him, could hear his voice, smell his cologne, Koyama kind of missed Ryo.
“Do you want to come home with me?” Ryo asked, and Koyama realised that even though it felt like everything had changed for him during the past month, for Ryo, nothing had changed at all.
He opened his mouth to suggest they go somewhere else for a catch up and a bite to eat, but somehow his lips ended up forming the word “yes” instead.
He could control himself, Koyama decided, as the fell into the usual routine. He’d managed it once before now, and he could do it again. Of course, it was harder to believe that with Ryo’s dark gaze locking with his own, and the casual brush of his fingers at Koyama’s waist.
It would be different, he thought as they were sitting down together, Ryo’s hand on his thigh, if Ryo knew about Tegoshi. He didn’t want to bring it up, to rub it in Ryo’s face, but suddenly that seemed kinder than this kind of behaviour; this leading him on.
“I’ve missed you,” Ryo was saying as Koyama came to this conclusion, hand inching higher up his leg. “It’s been a while.”
Koyama swallowed, unsure of how to proceed.
“I know. I’ve been…” He paused, trying to figure out how to word this. “You know how I was saying it was time for us to see other people? I just… I mean, I…”
He didn’t get much further than that before Ryo had his face in his hands, lips pressed insistently to Koyama’s.
He should stop him, Koyama thought with a pang of guilt, but when Ryo’s tongue met his, brushing against it in suggestive patterns, he gave in. Ryo smelt, tasted, felt so familiar, and it was so easy fall back into their routine and get swept along in the tide of sensations.
It wasn’t until Ryo was inside him that Koyama realised the thought of Tegoshi wasn’t going to leave his mind.
‘You’re not exclusive,’ he told himself, arching into Ryo’s touch and wishing he could get the memory of Tegoshi’s smaller, softer fingers out of his head. ‘You’re not cheating on Tegoshi, you don’t need to feel bad.’
When they lay together afterwards, arms around each other and the soft puff of Ryo’s breath on his neck, Koyama couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. He and Ryo fit together so well, but he’d gotten used to the places where Tegoshi didn’t fit him, the places where his bony parts jutted out, his physical build so different to Ryo’s, that it just felt empty.
He couldn’t do this anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he started to say, but Ryo hushed him with a finger over his lips.
“Just don’t…” he began gruffly, but then his voice seemed to shrink, getting softer and smaller, more unsure. “Just let me pretend. A little longer.”
Koyama didn’t reply, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to let him.
When Koyama woke up the next morning, the bed was empty. He could hear Ryo shuffling around in the kitchen, accompanied by the occasional thump or clang. This would probably be the last time he’d be able to listen to these familiar morning-after noises, and so Koyama lay back on the pillow, staring up at the ceiling and letting them wash over him.
Half an hour later, he finally emerged into the main living space, hair wet from the shower and dressed in a fresh change of clothes. Ryo was still in his dressing gown, sipping from a cup of tea.
“Want one?” He asked, but he didn’t meet Koyama’s eyes.
He must know too, Koyama realised, that this was it. The thought gave him the conviction he needed to finally go ahead and say what he needed to.
“No thank you. Ryo, can I... can we talk please?”
Ryo stiffened, the lines of his body going still and rigid, and Koyama could see an internal battle being waged in the expressions on his downcast face. Then suddenly, he sighed and sagged.
“Yeah. But you don’t need to say anything. I get it.”
“Yeah...” Koyama wrung his hands, scuffed the floor with his foot. “Yeah. Well.”
“You can just say it’s over,” Ryo supplied for him. “Finally time to let go. I’ll try to let go too.”
Koyama nodded, feeling a little shy. “Okay. Still friends, right?”
Ryo laughed, and though it was somewhat rueful, there was a touch of real humour behind it.
“We have to be. We’re in the same band, right?”
Koyama’s lips quirked up into a smile. It was still on his face when he left ten minutes later.
~
The question just popped out a couple of weeks later. Tegoshi was lounging in Koyama’s lap, nuzzling his jaw, as cute as usual, and Koyama wasn’t even thinking when his mouth started to move.
“I think I’d like it if you were my boyfriend.”
He resisted the urge to clap his hand over his mouth the moment the words were out, but his face still felt like it was burning, especially when Tegoshi started to giggle.
Koyama was about ready to crawl off and find a hole to die in when Tegoshi finally got control of himself.
“That wasn’t romantic at all,” he said seriously. “But I love you anyway. I think I’d like to be your boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” Koyama’s grin was so wide it threatened to split his face.
“It means I don’t have to share you, right?”
Tegoshi squawked in indignation when Koyama slapped him on the head, but he let him make it up to him later.
~
“That should be the last of it, right?”
“You keep saying that,” Ryo grumbled, “But I keep finding your stuff hidden away in the weirdest places. If you can explain why your necklace was lying around in my kitchen, I’m dying to know.”
Koyama shrugged, nudging one of the boxes of Ryo’s things with his toes.
“If I find anything else, I’ll give it back the next time I see you.”
“Yeah,” Ryo agreed, but he looked distracted. “Hey, Koyama?”
“Mm?”
Ryo seemed hesitant, but eventually continued, “How’s it going with Tego? Alright?”
“Do you really want the answer to that?” Koyama raised an eyebrow.
He was almost expecting a no, but Ryo nodded stoically.
Koyama smiled. “Things are great. I’m really happy.”
“That’s good.” Ryo bent down and hefted the box up into his arms. “But if you ever need to talk about anything... I’m here to listen.”
His ears went a little red as he said it, and Koyama had to suppress a chuckle.
“Thank you. Knowing Tegoshi, I’m sure I’ll need to eventually.”
“It’s no problem.” Ryo waved it off. “Just otherwise... don’t shove it in our faces, okay? You two can be kind of gross. Keep it on the down low, okay?”
This time Koyama really did laugh. “You’re bringing that issue up with the wrong person.”
They carried the boxes out to Ryo’s car together, saying goodbye at the door when Ryo insisted he could manage the last one by himself.
“I’ll see you at work,” he nodded, unable to wave with the box in his hands.
Koyama watched him go, noting the way he held his head high, his squared shoulders and his broad back. He looked more confident, maybe even happier than he had a month ago.
He shut the door to the apartment at the same moment as Tegoshi’s ringtone began to play from his pocket, and as he answered the call, pressing the phone to his ear, Koyama thought that maybe some change once in a while wasn’t such a bad thing.