Ace of Spades (can't trump that)
Title: Ace of Spades (can’t trump that)
Pairing: Tegoshi/Yamapi
Rating: PG
Words: 1,366
Summary: “Tegoshi Yuya had adored Yamashita Tomohisa since the moment he could distinguish the boy’s face from anyone else’s.” AU
Notes: I’m breaking “hiatus” (You couldn't even last two weeks? Tara you suck.) But anyway. This is the final installment of Cait’s bday fics. I totally don’t DO bday fics but apparently for her… I do… A LOT *sigh* Maybe I just wanted an excuse to write TegoPi… >.> You know you want it, Cait. Inspired by One Republic’s “All the Right Moves.” Thanks to imifumei for looking it over and offering support. *hugs*
Tegoshi Yuya had adored Yamashita Tomohisa since the moment he could distinguish the boy’s face from anyone else’s.
“Isn’t it sweet?” Tegoshi-mama would say, looking fondly at her son making grabby hands at the older boy. “Yuya loves Tomo.” And the mothers would titter together and make play dates.
Yamashita dealt with Tegoshi like he dealt with everything else - with even patience and a sense of detachment. Tegoshi cried when Yamashita started school and Yamashita had squatted down and patted him on the head. “Don’t worry, Yuya-chan. Soon you’ll be going to school, too.”
Yamashita knew how to gently disengage Tegoshi, keep him from tagging along all the time without making it seem like he didn’t want Tegoshi around, but Tegoshi couldn’t help the flare of shame that would pass over him every time he did it.
Viewing Yamashita objectively, Tegoshi couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Yamashita looked so strange - a gangly youth with a weird, high-pitched giggle, shy manner, often impersonal. But Tegoshi couldn’t deny, obviously, that there was just something about him that drew people to him. Soft, sweet eyes, always polite, a certain energy that made you hold your breath. He seemed to hit all the right avenues in life, making all the right friends and all the right moves to land him at the top of every pile and Tegoshi struggled after him, trying desperately to keep up.
Tegoshi had always been ambitious, not out of any need to garner attention, though he certainly didn’t mind it, but to know for himself that he had done his best. He set his hurdles high and never backed down, starting with his insistence to walk on his own, study hard, play harder, become the best he could possibly be. He set Yamashita at the top of his solid pyramid of achievements, the example of the ultimate goal and every day he came closer to matching him, but never close enough. No matter what he did, he was always overlooked.
When he’d graduated middle schools with the highest marks and most awards in the history of the school, it didn’t matter because Yamashita had graduated high school and gotten into Meiji. When Tegoshi graduated high school at the top of his class, captain of his soccer team, and been accepted to Waseda, it didn’t matter because Yamashita had just been offered a job in business marketing for Sony of all places, and he hadn’t even graduated yet.
Tegoshi couldn’t call what they’d had friendship. He’d always made Yamashita just a little uncomfortable with his adoration and open fawning. Even after he’d hidden it away in his heart in middle school and started striking out on his own, Yamashita would still stand away, a little put-off by his boisterousness and loud voice, so different from his own quiet demeanor, and Tegoshi could also tell he hadn’t forgotten that Tegoshi thought the world of him. But there was always something tying them together; perhaps it was more that they'd grown together and just weren't sure how to break apart.
At the party they’d thrown for Tegoshi’s graduation and Yamashita’s new job offer, the two boys had squatted together behind the house, in the peace and quiet of twilight.
“Congratulations,” Yamashita said softly, plucking at the grass and glancing longways at him.
“You too,” Tegoshi replied, looking off into the distance.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?”
“That they had to lump our parties together. You only graduate high school once and I’m sorry that they didn’t make this one all yours like it should have been.”
Tegoshi was silent for a while. “Well. It doesn’t matter.” He turned his face to Yamashita and tilted his head, smiling. “Congratulations,” he said, flashing him a peace sign and standing, walking, for the first time, away.
He realized that evening that he felt differently today. He examined the corners of his mind, checked his pyramid and Yamashita was still there, where he’d always been. But hard determination had replaced the adulation and he felt a little lost. Where does it leave you when the adoration has melted away and left you with nothing but a seething rivalry bordering on obsession? But even a rivalry would be satisfying. That would indicate an equality. But there was no equality. No matter how hard he struggled in his one-sided battle, he was never quite there. He just wanted the merest nod of recognition of his abilities from Yamashita, real recognition that Tegoshi was no longer the crooked-toothed, chubby-faced, hero-worshiper he had been years ago.
But he only thought of these things in the darkest of moments, when he was alone and low, brilliant sparks of bitterness to be forgotten in the brightness of his days and recognized only in flashes he tried to quash. Yamashita still sat squarely at the top of Tegoshi’s tower, oblivious, omnipresent. But Tegoshi wouldn’t give up. Sometimes at the very bottom of his heart he hated Yamashita, just for a moment, and sometimes he loved him with all his being for giving him such a high hurdle. One day, Yamashita would see him as an equal and they would sit together at the top but until then, he would just have to try harder, pushing himself to the very limit, to the very summit, without falling.
Four years into his psychology degree at Waseda and he received his first phone call from Yamashita since he was thirteen.
“H-hello?” He sort of hated himself for the stutter.
“Tegoshi?”
“Yeah, hi.”
“It’s Yamashita.” Awkward silence. “From home?”
Tegoshi couldn’t help laughing. “I know who you are. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I just talked to my mom and she was telling me how well you were doing in school and I thought that it was pretty sad that I had to learn about you from her.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway,” there was a pause and Tegoshi knew Yamashita was licking his lips. “I’m going out with a few friends tonight in Roppongi if you want to come with us. If you have time.”
“Yeah, I’d love to,” he replied quickly, breathless and he wanted to kick himself for playing the overeager puppy.
Yamashita paused again. “Okay. Meet me at the Roppongi station at 8?”
“Okay, sure.” When he hung up his heart was beating fast and hard.
They walked to the restaurant exchanging idle information, catching up, and Tegoshi tried not to stare at Yamashita and the man he’d become. No longer whip-thin and hard angles but everything a little softer, fleshier, over hard muscles. In contrast, his soft presence had a more commanding edge now, more sure of itself. He wondered if Yamashita realized how much he, Tegoshi, had changed.
He introduced Tegoshi to his friends, quietly, politely, and one of them had elbowed him in the ribs. “He’s really pretty, Yamashita.” And Yamashita had smacked him in the head.
Dinner went incredibly well; Tegoshi felt at ease, relaxed and let himself be the person he’d grown into. And Yamashita didn’t look uncomfortable at all, for a change, at Tegoshi’s loud, open laughter and superior tone, even when his friends ribbed Yamashita about bringing such an uppity girlfriend along. They stayed late and finally Yamashita was walking him to the station, hands in his pockets, the silence between them easy.
“Well,” Tegoshi said as they stood on the platform, “I had fun. Thanks for inviting me.”
Yamashita was looking at him with soft eyes and Tegoshi wasn’t sure how he felt about it, chills climbing his spine that could be from the cold or not. “You’ve grown up,” Yamashita said finally, a hint of approval in his voice.
“It had to happen sometime, I guess,” Tegoshi deadpanned, looking off to the side. But his heart was throbbing and he couldn’t decide what that meant.
They shook hands and went their separate ways, and that night, as he lay in the dark, hands cradling his head, he examined himself again. Bitter emotions pulled to the surface and smoothed over by just three words; struggling so long and he’d finally been offered a hand up. Still so far to go, he knew, but finally there was a start, and a start meant a finish, and this was a game he intended to win.
Pairing: Tegoshi/Yamapi
Rating: PG
Words: 1,366
Summary: “Tegoshi Yuya had adored Yamashita Tomohisa since the moment he could distinguish the boy’s face from anyone else’s.” AU
Notes: I’m breaking “hiatus” (You couldn't even last two weeks? Tara you suck.) But anyway. This is the final installment of Cait’s bday fics. I totally don’t DO bday fics but apparently for her… I do… A LOT *sigh* Maybe I just wanted an excuse to write TegoPi… >.> You know you want it, Cait. Inspired by One Republic’s “All the Right Moves.” Thanks to imifumei for looking it over and offering support. *hugs*
Tegoshi Yuya had adored Yamashita Tomohisa since the moment he could distinguish the boy’s face from anyone else’s.
“Isn’t it sweet?” Tegoshi-mama would say, looking fondly at her son making grabby hands at the older boy. “Yuya loves Tomo.” And the mothers would titter together and make play dates.
Yamashita dealt with Tegoshi like he dealt with everything else - with even patience and a sense of detachment. Tegoshi cried when Yamashita started school and Yamashita had squatted down and patted him on the head. “Don’t worry, Yuya-chan. Soon you’ll be going to school, too.”
Yamashita knew how to gently disengage Tegoshi, keep him from tagging along all the time without making it seem like he didn’t want Tegoshi around, but Tegoshi couldn’t help the flare of shame that would pass over him every time he did it.
Viewing Yamashita objectively, Tegoshi couldn’t see what all the fuss was about. Yamashita looked so strange - a gangly youth with a weird, high-pitched giggle, shy manner, often impersonal. But Tegoshi couldn’t deny, obviously, that there was just something about him that drew people to him. Soft, sweet eyes, always polite, a certain energy that made you hold your breath. He seemed to hit all the right avenues in life, making all the right friends and all the right moves to land him at the top of every pile and Tegoshi struggled after him, trying desperately to keep up.
Tegoshi had always been ambitious, not out of any need to garner attention, though he certainly didn’t mind it, but to know for himself that he had done his best. He set his hurdles high and never backed down, starting with his insistence to walk on his own, study hard, play harder, become the best he could possibly be. He set Yamashita at the top of his solid pyramid of achievements, the example of the ultimate goal and every day he came closer to matching him, but never close enough. No matter what he did, he was always overlooked.
When he’d graduated middle schools with the highest marks and most awards in the history of the school, it didn’t matter because Yamashita had graduated high school and gotten into Meiji. When Tegoshi graduated high school at the top of his class, captain of his soccer team, and been accepted to Waseda, it didn’t matter because Yamashita had just been offered a job in business marketing for Sony of all places, and he hadn’t even graduated yet.
Tegoshi couldn’t call what they’d had friendship. He’d always made Yamashita just a little uncomfortable with his adoration and open fawning. Even after he’d hidden it away in his heart in middle school and started striking out on his own, Yamashita would still stand away, a little put-off by his boisterousness and loud voice, so different from his own quiet demeanor, and Tegoshi could also tell he hadn’t forgotten that Tegoshi thought the world of him. But there was always something tying them together; perhaps it was more that they'd grown together and just weren't sure how to break apart.
At the party they’d thrown for Tegoshi’s graduation and Yamashita’s new job offer, the two boys had squatted together behind the house, in the peace and quiet of twilight.
“Congratulations,” Yamashita said softly, plucking at the grass and glancing longways at him.
“You too,” Tegoshi replied, looking off into the distance.
“I’m sorry.”
“Huh?”
“That they had to lump our parties together. You only graduate high school once and I’m sorry that they didn’t make this one all yours like it should have been.”
Tegoshi was silent for a while. “Well. It doesn’t matter.” He turned his face to Yamashita and tilted his head, smiling. “Congratulations,” he said, flashing him a peace sign and standing, walking, for the first time, away.
He realized that evening that he felt differently today. He examined the corners of his mind, checked his pyramid and Yamashita was still there, where he’d always been. But hard determination had replaced the adulation and he felt a little lost. Where does it leave you when the adoration has melted away and left you with nothing but a seething rivalry bordering on obsession? But even a rivalry would be satisfying. That would indicate an equality. But there was no equality. No matter how hard he struggled in his one-sided battle, he was never quite there. He just wanted the merest nod of recognition of his abilities from Yamashita, real recognition that Tegoshi was no longer the crooked-toothed, chubby-faced, hero-worshiper he had been years ago.
But he only thought of these things in the darkest of moments, when he was alone and low, brilliant sparks of bitterness to be forgotten in the brightness of his days and recognized only in flashes he tried to quash. Yamashita still sat squarely at the top of Tegoshi’s tower, oblivious, omnipresent. But Tegoshi wouldn’t give up. Sometimes at the very bottom of his heart he hated Yamashita, just for a moment, and sometimes he loved him with all his being for giving him such a high hurdle. One day, Yamashita would see him as an equal and they would sit together at the top but until then, he would just have to try harder, pushing himself to the very limit, to the very summit, without falling.
Four years into his psychology degree at Waseda and he received his first phone call from Yamashita since he was thirteen.
“H-hello?” He sort of hated himself for the stutter.
“Tegoshi?”
“Yeah, hi.”
“It’s Yamashita.” Awkward silence. “From home?”
Tegoshi couldn’t help laughing. “I know who you are. What’s up?”
“Oh, nothing. I just talked to my mom and she was telling me how well you were doing in school and I thought that it was pretty sad that I had to learn about you from her.”
“Yeah.”
“Anyway,” there was a pause and Tegoshi knew Yamashita was licking his lips. “I’m going out with a few friends tonight in Roppongi if you want to come with us. If you have time.”
“Yeah, I’d love to,” he replied quickly, breathless and he wanted to kick himself for playing the overeager puppy.
Yamashita paused again. “Okay. Meet me at the Roppongi station at 8?”
“Okay, sure.” When he hung up his heart was beating fast and hard.
They walked to the restaurant exchanging idle information, catching up, and Tegoshi tried not to stare at Yamashita and the man he’d become. No longer whip-thin and hard angles but everything a little softer, fleshier, over hard muscles. In contrast, his soft presence had a more commanding edge now, more sure of itself. He wondered if Yamashita realized how much he, Tegoshi, had changed.
He introduced Tegoshi to his friends, quietly, politely, and one of them had elbowed him in the ribs. “He’s really pretty, Yamashita.” And Yamashita had smacked him in the head.
Dinner went incredibly well; Tegoshi felt at ease, relaxed and let himself be the person he’d grown into. And Yamashita didn’t look uncomfortable at all, for a change, at Tegoshi’s loud, open laughter and superior tone, even when his friends ribbed Yamashita about bringing such an uppity girlfriend along. They stayed late and finally Yamashita was walking him to the station, hands in his pockets, the silence between them easy.
“Well,” Tegoshi said as they stood on the platform, “I had fun. Thanks for inviting me.”
Yamashita was looking at him with soft eyes and Tegoshi wasn’t sure how he felt about it, chills climbing his spine that could be from the cold or not. “You’ve grown up,” Yamashita said finally, a hint of approval in his voice.
“It had to happen sometime, I guess,” Tegoshi deadpanned, looking off to the side. But his heart was throbbing and he couldn’t decide what that meant.
They shook hands and went their separate ways, and that night, as he lay in the dark, hands cradling his head, he examined himself again. Bitter emotions pulled to the surface and smoothed over by just three words; struggling so long and he’d finally been offered a hand up. Still so far to go, he knew, but finally there was a start, and a start meant a finish, and this was a game he intended to win.