Questions (Fujikita)
Title: Questions
Pairing: FujigayaxKitayama
Rating: Fluffy, Maybe PG13 for innuendo, but PG is enough.
Authors Note: Unbetaed. Kinda mildy angsty but much more fluffy that usual Fujikita.
“Ever think that this would be our future?” A soft voice interrupted his musings, and he didn't have to turn to know who was speaking to him. He would know that voice anywhere, no matter what. It was, after all, his most precious person. Though they were quite unaware of the fact (he hoped). It was one of those moments in the middle of filming that he just needed to clear his head. They were on break, something have gone wrong with the cameras. They would be able to fix it, but it was a long break in the meantime. And so he had escaped, as much as he could.
The chill of winter didn't seem to bother him through he was dressed far too lightly to really be outside at night, but he wanted to enjoy the warm snap while he could. And recently he liked the cold. He felt at home in in. It reflected the state of his heart, his emotions. Alone. Always alone. Even in a band of seven, in an agency of people that he was proud to call his friend, his senpai, his kouhai he felt alone, these days.
But he was the cool one, the sexy one, he played it up, on stage, but really, off stage, he was nothing like that. At least not intentionally. He much preferred just to have fun, to laugh and joke and goof around with his friends. To enjoy life with his friends. And enjoy life as an idol. But oozing sex appeal was exhausting. And he wanted… love. It was the season of love, and while in theory girls wanted to give him chocolate, and maybe a couple guys, no one would. He was lonely. But… at the same time, he meant it when he spoke next.
“Never, but I don't regret it.” His voice was soft, and he glanced to the side, the other moving to stand beside him, pressed up against his side. The warmth was somehow pleasant, seeping through his clothing. It was rare that the other got this close, this willingly, but right now, when he was most pensive, Kitayama seemed to let his guard down, and forget that he and Fujigaya were supposed to pretend to not like the skinship. Since those idol magazines were relentless, and loved putting them together. It was best if they didn't give anyone ideas. But the magazines weren’t around right now, it was just the two of them, and Kitayama’s clothing was even lighter and thinner than Fujigaya’s own. He wasn't a heater like Miyata or Senga, but he was warm enough, probably, for a little while.
“Sometimes, I think that no one understand, not really, what we actually go through for this. For them. All the things that we give up. How much it sucks to realize that we will be alone, because they can’t deal with the idea of us being with anyone. It’s fucking unfair. If we love someone, who should be able to be with them, shouldn't we?” Other others voice was passionate, and as he spoke he pressed more against Fujigaya, turning his head so he was looking up at the taller man, trying to read his reactions.
And he felt his heart jump to this throat, the feelings choking him.
“You are in love?” He managed to sound almost normal, he thought. Kitayama just hmmmed, looking away from Fujigaya and out at the lights of Tokyo at night, down from the rooftop of the building they were on. The hmm, and the silence, seemed to indicate that the other saw right through his feigned casualness. But he didn't press the matter, instead sighed, pushing closer towards Fujigaya, watching him in the darkness.
“Have been for a while. But for the longest time I didn't think they liked me.”
“Oh?” Fujigaya managed to choke out, moving slightly away from Kitayama. He needed to get away. The closeness was suffocating. The realization that Kitayama was in love made him ill. He didn't want the other to be in love. He wanted Kitayama to stay here with him, like this.
But why the heck was he even pressed this close to Fujigaya if he was in love with someone? How was that even fair? This wasn't an unrequited love drama, dammit.
The other moved with him, remaining pressed to his side.
Fujigaya wanted to move away more, but that would be too obvious.
“I am thinking of confessing, but I am afraid.” Kitayama continued, watching Fujigaya again, watching his face, and this time, his reaction was natural.
“You, afraid?” Fujigaya didn't have to pretend to be OK, or interested in that face. Since when was Kitayama afraid of anything? “You have always been the one who when they want something, ran for it full speed. Why would you be afraid?”
“Confessions change things, just look at Miyacchi and Tama.” Kitayama nudged Fujigaya with his elbow as he spoke, and Fujigaya, out of instinct shifted away, into the corner of the railing.
Things had changed when Tama had finally answered Miyacchi’s constant confessions with a yes. And it was weird for a while. As it took Tama a few days to even convince Mitaya that it wasn't a joke. And that while he might say that Miyata’s confessions were gross, he didn't really mean that. Most of the awkwardness, though, was because Miyata had never thought about what would happen is Tama actually reciprocated his feelings. That has been an awkward few weeks behind the camera, but then they settled down, and everything has been fine since then.
“And what changed?” Fujigaya asked, and he could hear Kitayama sigh beside him.
“I realized that they were not, in fact, in love with their best friend. And that I was just… reading too much into things because I was afraid that I would get rejected.”
“Whoever rejected you would be an idiot.” Fujigaya spoke before he could stop himself, and once he realized what he had said, what he had just admitted, he found that he was unable to look anywhere very intently but down at the street, watching the cars and people walk by.
Kitayama didn't say anything, and the longer the silence went on the more Fujigaya was bracing for some sort of snarky mocking comment. Some sort of dig or remark. Except nothing came. Finally, Fujigaya managed to glance at Kitayama, just slightly, from the corner of his eye.
Kitayama was leaning up against the railing, watching Fujigaya, his face hard to read, but his stare intense.
“Would you reject me, Taisuke?” Was what Kitayama asked, when his gaze locked with Fujigaya’s, and he found that he could not look away, no matter how much he wanted too. He could only stare at Kitayama, who moved slowly towards him. “I can’t even get you to cooperate during pair photo shoots, I have no reason to think that you might actually like me as well.” Kitayama moved closer and Fujigaya swallowed hard.
As well? There was no way he heard that correctly. It wasn't possible.
He could see that while Kitayama appeared confidence, composed, there was a bit of uncertainty in his eyes, and with each step towards him Kitayama paused, reassessing the situation, and Fujigaya’s reaction.
“Fangirls are fucking crazy and the magazine staff is no exception. I don't want to face squish just for their crazy fantasies.”
“Not with me, but Watta would be ok?” Kitayama asked lightly, stepping further forward and Fujigaya gaped at Kitayama.
“Of course it would, because it’s Watta. Its different because he isn’t-“ Fujigaya stopped at Kitayama stepped into his space again, but this time, Fujigaya’s back was pressed up against the railing, and they stood chest to chest, hip to hip. Kitayama was deliberate in his movements, placing his hands on the railing on either side of Fujigaya, pinning him in place. Fujigaya could see, just from the tension in Kitayama’s arms that he wasn't trapping him there. If Fujigaya wanted to escape he could.
“He isn’t?” Kitayama prompted, looking up at Fujigaya through his bangs, his eyes shining in the darkness, but there was a softness there this time. A warmth that Fujigaya had seen before, but he thought it had been his imagination.
He was certain the he would regret this. That is was some giant dokkiri. But, sometimes, it was worth it. And it wouldn't be any worse that several infamous on camera confession incidents by senpai bands, if this was a dokkiri.
“He isn’t the one that I love.” Fujigaya’s words were soft, soft enough that they would need an amazing camera to pick it up, but from the way that Kitayama smiled, pressing into him more Fujigaya though that maybe, just maybe, this was real. The head of his body through their clothing felt real, the muscles legs that pressed against his own, the firm torso and arms that held him tight for a moment, they all felt real.
And the way that Kitayama trembled in his arms was real as well, and without really thinking too much about it, Fujigaya allowed his arms to fall and hug Kitayama, holding him close and muttering nonsense against his hair until he calmed.
Fujigaya was not surprised when Kitayama stilled, not answering with words, but moving instead to tangle a hand in Fujigaya’s hair, capturing his lips in a kiss, and it was surprising enough, and amazing enough, and hot enough, and enjoyable enough that as Kitayama’s lips moved against his own, tentative at first, and then bolder that Fujigaya didn't even care when the door to the rooftop burst open and Tama called out.
“Gross. At least get a room you guys. No one wants to see that.”
Breaking the kiss Kitayama looked up at Fujigaya, one eyebrow raised in a leer, and then ran his tongue across his lip as a promise. It was much more adorable than sexy, but it was still stupidly attractive.
Fujigaya couldn't help but chuckle, since it was what kept him from grabbing the front of the others shirt and continuing where they left off.
“I am classier than that, Tama. If he wants any more kisses he has to take me on a date. And confess properly. And then maybe we can go home. Love hotels aren’t classy enough.”
Kitayama chuckled, but as Fujigaya went to leave, Kitayama pulled him close, giving him one last bruising kiss before commenting with an eyebrow waggle and as much smarm as he could muster, though his voice and his eyes were full of promise, and love.
“Who said it would be a love hotel? I have a little bit of class. Besides, Taisuke, my apartment it much better stocked than any love hotel.”
Pairing: FujigayaxKitayama
Rating: Fluffy, Maybe PG13 for innuendo, but PG is enough.
Authors Note: Unbetaed. Kinda mildy angsty but much more fluffy that usual Fujikita.
“Ever think that this would be our future?” A soft voice interrupted his musings, and he didn't have to turn to know who was speaking to him. He would know that voice anywhere, no matter what. It was, after all, his most precious person. Though they were quite unaware of the fact (he hoped). It was one of those moments in the middle of filming that he just needed to clear his head. They were on break, something have gone wrong with the cameras. They would be able to fix it, but it was a long break in the meantime. And so he had escaped, as much as he could.
The chill of winter didn't seem to bother him through he was dressed far too lightly to really be outside at night, but he wanted to enjoy the warm snap while he could. And recently he liked the cold. He felt at home in in. It reflected the state of his heart, his emotions. Alone. Always alone. Even in a band of seven, in an agency of people that he was proud to call his friend, his senpai, his kouhai he felt alone, these days.
But he was the cool one, the sexy one, he played it up, on stage, but really, off stage, he was nothing like that. At least not intentionally. He much preferred just to have fun, to laugh and joke and goof around with his friends. To enjoy life with his friends. And enjoy life as an idol. But oozing sex appeal was exhausting. And he wanted… love. It was the season of love, and while in theory girls wanted to give him chocolate, and maybe a couple guys, no one would. He was lonely. But… at the same time, he meant it when he spoke next.
“Never, but I don't regret it.” His voice was soft, and he glanced to the side, the other moving to stand beside him, pressed up against his side. The warmth was somehow pleasant, seeping through his clothing. It was rare that the other got this close, this willingly, but right now, when he was most pensive, Kitayama seemed to let his guard down, and forget that he and Fujigaya were supposed to pretend to not like the skinship. Since those idol magazines were relentless, and loved putting them together. It was best if they didn't give anyone ideas. But the magazines weren’t around right now, it was just the two of them, and Kitayama’s clothing was even lighter and thinner than Fujigaya’s own. He wasn't a heater like Miyata or Senga, but he was warm enough, probably, for a little while.
“Sometimes, I think that no one understand, not really, what we actually go through for this. For them. All the things that we give up. How much it sucks to realize that we will be alone, because they can’t deal with the idea of us being with anyone. It’s fucking unfair. If we love someone, who should be able to be with them, shouldn't we?” Other others voice was passionate, and as he spoke he pressed more against Fujigaya, turning his head so he was looking up at the taller man, trying to read his reactions.
And he felt his heart jump to this throat, the feelings choking him.
“You are in love?” He managed to sound almost normal, he thought. Kitayama just hmmmed, looking away from Fujigaya and out at the lights of Tokyo at night, down from the rooftop of the building they were on. The hmm, and the silence, seemed to indicate that the other saw right through his feigned casualness. But he didn't press the matter, instead sighed, pushing closer towards Fujigaya, watching him in the darkness.
“Have been for a while. But for the longest time I didn't think they liked me.”
“Oh?” Fujigaya managed to choke out, moving slightly away from Kitayama. He needed to get away. The closeness was suffocating. The realization that Kitayama was in love made him ill. He didn't want the other to be in love. He wanted Kitayama to stay here with him, like this.
But why the heck was he even pressed this close to Fujigaya if he was in love with someone? How was that even fair? This wasn't an unrequited love drama, dammit.
The other moved with him, remaining pressed to his side.
Fujigaya wanted to move away more, but that would be too obvious.
“I am thinking of confessing, but I am afraid.” Kitayama continued, watching Fujigaya again, watching his face, and this time, his reaction was natural.
“You, afraid?” Fujigaya didn't have to pretend to be OK, or interested in that face. Since when was Kitayama afraid of anything? “You have always been the one who when they want something, ran for it full speed. Why would you be afraid?”
“Confessions change things, just look at Miyacchi and Tama.” Kitayama nudged Fujigaya with his elbow as he spoke, and Fujigaya, out of instinct shifted away, into the corner of the railing.
Things had changed when Tama had finally answered Miyacchi’s constant confessions with a yes. And it was weird for a while. As it took Tama a few days to even convince Mitaya that it wasn't a joke. And that while he might say that Miyata’s confessions were gross, he didn't really mean that. Most of the awkwardness, though, was because Miyata had never thought about what would happen is Tama actually reciprocated his feelings. That has been an awkward few weeks behind the camera, but then they settled down, and everything has been fine since then.
“And what changed?” Fujigaya asked, and he could hear Kitayama sigh beside him.
“I realized that they were not, in fact, in love with their best friend. And that I was just… reading too much into things because I was afraid that I would get rejected.”
“Whoever rejected you would be an idiot.” Fujigaya spoke before he could stop himself, and once he realized what he had said, what he had just admitted, he found that he was unable to look anywhere very intently but down at the street, watching the cars and people walk by.
Kitayama didn't say anything, and the longer the silence went on the more Fujigaya was bracing for some sort of snarky mocking comment. Some sort of dig or remark. Except nothing came. Finally, Fujigaya managed to glance at Kitayama, just slightly, from the corner of his eye.
Kitayama was leaning up against the railing, watching Fujigaya, his face hard to read, but his stare intense.
“Would you reject me, Taisuke?” Was what Kitayama asked, when his gaze locked with Fujigaya’s, and he found that he could not look away, no matter how much he wanted too. He could only stare at Kitayama, who moved slowly towards him. “I can’t even get you to cooperate during pair photo shoots, I have no reason to think that you might actually like me as well.” Kitayama moved closer and Fujigaya swallowed hard.
As well? There was no way he heard that correctly. It wasn't possible.
He could see that while Kitayama appeared confidence, composed, there was a bit of uncertainty in his eyes, and with each step towards him Kitayama paused, reassessing the situation, and Fujigaya’s reaction.
“Fangirls are fucking crazy and the magazine staff is no exception. I don't want to face squish just for their crazy fantasies.”
“Not with me, but Watta would be ok?” Kitayama asked lightly, stepping further forward and Fujigaya gaped at Kitayama.
“Of course it would, because it’s Watta. Its different because he isn’t-“ Fujigaya stopped at Kitayama stepped into his space again, but this time, Fujigaya’s back was pressed up against the railing, and they stood chest to chest, hip to hip. Kitayama was deliberate in his movements, placing his hands on the railing on either side of Fujigaya, pinning him in place. Fujigaya could see, just from the tension in Kitayama’s arms that he wasn't trapping him there. If Fujigaya wanted to escape he could.
“He isn’t?” Kitayama prompted, looking up at Fujigaya through his bangs, his eyes shining in the darkness, but there was a softness there this time. A warmth that Fujigaya had seen before, but he thought it had been his imagination.
He was certain the he would regret this. That is was some giant dokkiri. But, sometimes, it was worth it. And it wouldn't be any worse that several infamous on camera confession incidents by senpai bands, if this was a dokkiri.
“He isn’t the one that I love.” Fujigaya’s words were soft, soft enough that they would need an amazing camera to pick it up, but from the way that Kitayama smiled, pressing into him more Fujigaya though that maybe, just maybe, this was real. The head of his body through their clothing felt real, the muscles legs that pressed against his own, the firm torso and arms that held him tight for a moment, they all felt real.
And the way that Kitayama trembled in his arms was real as well, and without really thinking too much about it, Fujigaya allowed his arms to fall and hug Kitayama, holding him close and muttering nonsense against his hair until he calmed.
Fujigaya was not surprised when Kitayama stilled, not answering with words, but moving instead to tangle a hand in Fujigaya’s hair, capturing his lips in a kiss, and it was surprising enough, and amazing enough, and hot enough, and enjoyable enough that as Kitayama’s lips moved against his own, tentative at first, and then bolder that Fujigaya didn't even care when the door to the rooftop burst open and Tama called out.
“Gross. At least get a room you guys. No one wants to see that.”
Breaking the kiss Kitayama looked up at Fujigaya, one eyebrow raised in a leer, and then ran his tongue across his lip as a promise. It was much more adorable than sexy, but it was still stupidly attractive.
Fujigaya couldn't help but chuckle, since it was what kept him from grabbing the front of the others shirt and continuing where they left off.
“I am classier than that, Tama. If he wants any more kisses he has to take me on a date. And confess properly. And then maybe we can go home. Love hotels aren’t classy enough.”
Kitayama chuckled, but as Fujigaya went to leave, Kitayama pulled him close, giving him one last bruising kiss before commenting with an eyebrow waggle and as much smarm as he could muster, though his voice and his eyes were full of promise, and love.
“Who said it would be a love hotel? I have a little bit of class. Besides, Taisuke, my apartment it much better stocked than any love hotel.”