Gift Fic for pinkpapyrus
To: pinkpapyrus
From: spurious
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Title: 7:48
Pairing/Group: Yoko/Hina
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Notes: Thank you to KGB for tirelessly supporting the creation of this fic. Thanks also to E for looking it over in the final stages, and others for listening to my whining at various points in the writing process. pinkpapyrus, I hope you like it! ♥
Summary: It's 7:48 on a sunny Tuesday morning in September, and Yoko is naked in Hina's bed.
Yoko's first thought upon waking up is oh god, what time is it? The sun is peeking in through hastily-drawn curtains, long stripes of light over the floor and across the end of the bed. Yoko turns over, feeling his stomach churn in protest at the movement, and looks at the clock: 7:48.
It's 7:48 on a sunny Tuesday morning in September, and Yoko is naked in Hina's bed.
He thinks back over the previous night: they'd gone out, both knocking back more than they might usually to cover for the awkwardness of being alone together, and somehow Hina had convinced Yoko to come back to his place. Yoko remembers a taxi ride, remembers stumbling through Hina's door. They'd drank more once they got there, sitting on Hina's floor and watching something stupid on TV while they sipped at their beers. Yoko remembers Hina's lips pressed firm and demanding against his own, but that's not all that out of the ordinary; he's woken up more than a few times to the memory of being kissed by Hina. He doesn't know what made that night so much different, how the kiss led to the string of hazy memories he has now: of the smooth, muscled planes of Hina's body under his hands, of Hina pressing him back against the bed.
The memories bring a rush of conflicting feelings flooding through Yoko, a host of things he doesn't really want to examine while he's both horrifically hungover and also on the verge of what will probably be the most awkward morning after he's ever experienced (possibly the most awkward morning after any human being has ever experienced, if Yoko allows his dramatic tendencies to come out a bit). He hears shifting next to him and tries to even out his breathing, so Hina can't tell he's already awake. He'll have plenty of time to think about the previous night later: for now Yoko needs to concentrate on getting out of there without having to acknowledge what happened. There's a sleepy snuffling sound from the other side of the bed, a rustling of sheets, but then Hina's still. Yoko can hear the evenness of his deep breaths, and he's had Hina fall asleep next to him on the train often enough to identify the sound. He's fast asleep, so if Yoko's quiet enough he shouldn't wake up at a little movement.
Luckily, Yoko's on the outside edge of the bed. He looks around the room in the early morning dimness, searching for the clothes he'd been wearing yesterday. He sees his t-shirt on the floor near the bedroom door, Hina's shirt lying next to it; and his jeans are at the foot of the bed, one leg inside out. He casts a hopeful eye around in search of his underwear, but they're nowhere to be seen. Yoko mentally debates the risk of getting up and trying to look around for them, but eventually decides to leave them as a casualty. Getting out without waking Hina is more important.
Yoko slips out of the bed slowly, grabbing his pants and padding across the floor for his shirt. He spares a backward glance at Hina, who's sprawled out on the right side of the bed, face mashed against his pillow. A traitorous part of Yoko thinks, cute, but he squashes it down, slipping out through the half-closed bedroom door.
He gets dressed in the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and running a comb quickly through his hair so he looks like slightly less of a complete mess, and then he picks up his bag from where he'd left it by the sofa and slips out the door. The elevator ride to the building's lobby doesn't do much to help the state of Yoko's stomach, still threatening to remind him just what he'd eaten last night at every sudden movement he makes, but he makes it down, pulling on a hat he'd left in his bag and a pair of sunglasses before stepping out the door.
Hina's apartment building is tucked into a somewhat quiet neighborhood, so Yoko has to walk a few blocks before he reaches a street busy enough to find a cab. The morning air is cool; he'd probably think the breeze was pleasant if he were in a better mood, but as it is all he can think about is getting home, taking a shower, and then curling up on his futon to sleep (or worry endlessly).
The ride from Hina's place to Yoko's takes about half an hour if the traffic is good, but it's a weekday morning so the going is slow, a series of lurching starts and stops that have Yoko worrying he's going to have to roll down the window to throw up. He tries to keep his mind occupied, listening to the inane morning radio program the cab driver's playing, but it doesn't last long, and soon enough he's thinking about the night before. There's an uncomfortable tingling rush as Yoko pieces together the memories, recalls pushing his hand into Hina's pants, mouthing at his hot skin, lying back on Hina's bed with his knees up while Hina fingered him. It feels like trying to remember a dream, the details slipping away whenever he tries to grasp at them, nothing but a series of finely-connected images and sensations. Yoko remembers the feeling of Hina's cock inside of him almost too clearly and he shivers, throat going dry.
He does roll down the window then, hoping the cool air will lessen the sudden warmth he feels in his face, creeping down the back of his neck. No, Yoko thinks, trying to remember what happened definitely isn't going to help. But there's a part of him (a rather big part of him, if he's honest) that wants to remember every detail, if only because he knows it's never going to happen again. Then, of course, there's the anxious, insecure part of him that's thinking, was I any good?
Yoko's certainly not a blushing virgin, but he knows for a fact (if rumors, dressing room whispers, and drunken bragging count as fact: to Yoko, they do) that Hina's got more experience than he does, and it's not like he was at his best last night, if his current hangover and inability to remember the details of the encounter are anything to go by.
There is something seriously wrong with his life, Yoko concludes, when he's just woken up from a drunken one-night-stand with one of his best friends, someone he's known half his life, someone he basically considers family, and the first thing he thinks is whether or not it had been good for him.
Thinking of it that way reminds Yoko of all of the other potential reasons for anxiety, like, most notably, the fact that this is surely going to screw up their friendship, how awkward it's going to make working together--working together, oh god, they work together, they can't just avoid each other until the awkwardness blows over, and what if the other members find out?
Yoko's panic attack is interrupted by the taxi arriving outside his building. He distractedly counts out the fare, ducking out of the cab and heading inside. He's kind of hungry, but there's not much to eat in his apartment, aside from bananas. He peels one and gets through about half of it before feeling like he's going to throw up, so he sets it down on the kitchen counter, going to take a shower instead.
The shower makes Yoko feel slightly more human. He stands under the spray, warm water beating down on his head, and tries to clear his mind. It's marginally easier now than it had been in the cab, his thoughts not racing as much anymore, but there's still a ball of anxiety sitting in the pit of his stomach, and Yoko knows from experience the only thing that will make it go away is time (or alcohol, but he doesn't even want to think about drinking, the way he feels).
By the time Yoko's out of the shower it's 9:30, almost time for him to go to work. He has photoshoots and magazine interviews scheduled for today, nothing with the other members, and never before has he been so thankful for the annoying monotony of answering a series of inane questions and taking a bunch of stupid pictures. It's not taxing enough that he can't do it hungover and sleep-deprived, but it requires enough of his attention that he can't spend the day thinking about what had happened with Hina. When he gets home, he has just enough energy to eat the bento he'd picked up on the way, take a bath, and collapse onto his futon.
When Yoko wakes up the next morning, he has about thirty seconds of blissful, sleep-fuzzy unawareness before his brain reminds him, you slept with Hina, and you're going to have to see him today.
Thankfully, they have meetings about the concert tour that day, so the other members will be there. He'll hopefully be able to avoid talking to Hina without seeming too weird; the other members will probably just chalk it up to Yoko being in a mood and not think anything of it, if they notice at all. Yoko's more worried about how he's going to handle Thursday: between Hirunandesu and Recomen, he basically spends the whole day with Hina. He tries to put it out of his mind for now, figuring he can take it one day at a time. Maybe, he thinks with a burst of uncharacteristic optimism, it won't even be that awkward.
It's more awkward than Yoko could have possibly imagined. He arrives to the meeting just barely on time, not wanting to be early in case Hina was also early and they got stuck alone together. When he comes into the meeting room he sees everyone else there but Ohkura. They all look at him, mumbling their greetings, and Yoko says good morning, looking anywhere but at Hina. He slides into an empty chair between Subaru and Ryo, the farthest away from Hina he can get, and they continue the conversation they'd been having about some TV show Yoko hasn't seen. He finds himself relaxing a bit, listening to the familiar chatter of his bandmates. Things seem almost normal, enough that Yoko decides to chance a look over at Hina. He's playing with his phone, and Yoko watches for a moment until Hina looks up. Yoko's frozen, heart in his throat, but Hina just smiles at him, like everything's totally normal, and then looks back at his phone.
How can he be acting normal about this? Yoko thinks. Of course, it kind of figures. Hina's like a brick wall; it's almost impossible to knock him off-balance. Yoko finds himself sort of annoyed just thinking about it. Here he was, agonizing over how horrible it was going to be the next time they saw each other, while Hina probably hadn't even given it a second thought! It makes Yoko feel insignificant, somehow, like he's not even important enough to catch Hina's attention. He probably has no idea how Yoko's feeling right now.
He's just about to look up from where he's been staring at a spot on the table to glare at Hina a little bit, but then Ohkura walks in, and shortly after that the meeting starts. They talk for seemingly hours about staging things in the domes, how they want the layout to look and what kind of pyrotechnics they can get away with. Yoko tries to throw himself into the discussion of every minute detail, even stuff he wouldn't normally care about, because every time he lets his mind rest, he's suddenly reminded of Hina's presence, of the tangled knot in his stomach.
"I like this one better," Hina says, pointing to one of the five possible stage diagrams laid out on the big meeting table.
"That one's stupid," Yoko says. He'd normally be a bit more diplomatic, but his earlier annoyance is getting the best of him. He regrets it as soon as he says it, though, because then Hina's looking at him with this weird, confused expression, and the others are giving him sidelong glances. He feels his face heat up a little and leans back in his chair, avoiding their eyes. "I mean, that's just my opinion," he mumbles. "What do you guys think?"
There's a moment of awkward silence before the discussion continues as normal. Thankfully it's not that unusual for one of them to make a comment like that; long meetings mean tempers run high, and no one seems all that concerned about it.
Maru invites Yoko out for dinner after the meeting.
"Who's coming?" Yoko asks, trying not to glance obviously over to the corner where Hina's sliding a folder into his bag.
"Just you, so far," Maru says, smiling. When Yoko says nothing, he goes on, "I asked Shin-chan, but he said he has plans already."
"Of course he does," Yoko mumbles, mostly to himself. He clears his throat, looking back at Maru. "Yeah, sure, I'll go."
Maru invites Subaru along as they're on their way out, and the three of them head to a restaurant near the company building. Yoko figures it's better to go out and keep his mind off of the fact that he's going to have to work with Hina for half the day tomorrow, and Maru and Subaru are fun, easy to be around. The beer flows freely, and Yoko can just sit back, stuff his face, and watch the two of them telling and cracking up at jokes no one else understands. By the time he's climbing into a taxi, Yoko's already starting to nod off, and he's on autopilot when he gets home and takes a bath before curling up on his futon and falling asleep.
Yoko wakes up on Thursday morning overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. He mentally reviews his schedule for the day: Hirunandesu filming, then recording for the album, then Recomen. He doesn't know if Hina has recording today too; if he does, they'll probably take the same car there. At the very least, he's going to be spending something like six hours with Hina. Yoko (tenuously) trusts himself to be professional while they're actually on air, and Hina, if the previous day is any indication, is going to act as though everything's totally normal, but what's tying Yoko's stomach into knots is the thought of sitting in the green room with him, sharing a car, or sitting through other people's corners and commercial breaks during Recomen.
As Yoko brushes his teeth and gets dressed, he mentally reviews the parts of the songs he's supposed to record today, trying to keep his mind busy. As soon as he gets in the car to head to the studio, he pulls out his PSP. Games are always a surefire distraction.
Yoko's just finished killing a particularly troublesome monster when the car pulls up at the studio. He takes a deep breath, thanks the driver, and gets out. As he walks through the halls, he tries to steel himself, to calm his nerves. It's just Hina, he tries to tell himself, but a louder part of his mind is screaming you had sex with him!!!, and at the moment, that's the part that's winning.
"'Morning," Yoko mumbles, pushing open the door of the green room. Hina's already there, sitting in front of a mirror and messing with his hair.
"'Morning," he says back, looking at Yoko through the mirror.
Yoko puts his bag down, busying himself with looking through the wardrobe rack for his clothes. He sneaks glances at Hina through the mirror, watching him play with his hair a little more. It occurs to Yoko that he has to change clothes, that normally he'd have no problem stripping down in their dressing room with Hina right there, but now the thought of taking off his clothes while in the same room as Hina makes him want to hide in the wardrobe rack and never come out. He's frozen with his hand on a hanger when he hears movement next to him, and he turns.
"I found these when I was cleaning," Hina says, holding out a plastic grocery bag. Yoko takes it, opening it apprehensively. Inside the bag is a pair of underwear. His underwear. His underwear that he'd been unable to find the other morning. His underwear that had been left somewhere in Hina's apartment after they had sex with each other.
"Thanks," he mumbles, staring, dumbstruck, at the bag. He watches Hina's feet move away in his peripheral vision.
"No problem," he says, then slips out the door, leaving Yoko standing by the wardrobe rack, holding a grocery bag with his underwear in it.
Yoko looks again. They're nicely folded, and he can smell Hina's laundry detergent when he opens the bag. That means Hina not only found them and identified them as Yoko's, but he actually put them in the wash, folded them and brought them here. Yoko imagines what he would have done if the situation were reversed, if he'd found Hina's underwear in his own apartment. He has a brief vision of setting up a barrier around the area, with traffic cones and police tape. In reality, he'd probably stuff them into the bottom of his hamper and leave them for his future self to deal with. He might throw them away, if they didn't seem expensive. What he would definitely not do is wash them, fold them, and cheerily bring them to Hina at work.
Yoko crumples up the bag, shoving it into the bottom of his own bag. He takes the opportunity of Hina being gone to change, as quickly as possible. If there's one thing Yoko's gotten the hang of in his years in Johnny's, it's how to change his clothes quickly, and he's finished long before Hina comes back. He flops down on the couch, sighing heavily. How can Hina be so casual about this? Yoko again finds himself offended by Hina's seeming lack of concern. It's not that he wants to talk about it, or something: far from it. He just wishes Hina would seem at least a little shaken up, a little uncomfortable, a little different somehow.
Hina comes back, then, and Yoko checks his watch. He still has about half an hour before he needs to be in makeup, so he pulls out his PSP and switches it on. As the title screen loads, he glances across the room at Hina, who's leaning back in a chair flipping through the newspaper. Then the game starts, and Yoko loses himself in it until it's time for them to head over to makeup.
Filming goes pretty much the same as usual, almost easier than Yoko had expected. He's reminded of his own discomfort each time Hina happens to hit him, but he manages to shake it off quickly enough, sliding smoothly into his usual television persona.
"What are you doing now?" Hina asks as they head back to the green room after the show.
"Recording," Yoko says. "You?"
"Just going to lunch," Hina says, and Yoko lets out a breath. "I'm doing recording tomorrow."
The moment they walk into the dressing room, Hina's already stripping off his shirt, pulling up on the back of it with one hand and revealing the curve of his back. Yoko immediately turns away, trying to shove down the visions his mind immediately provides, of Hina doing the same thing the other night. He recalls, with uncomfortable clarity, the way Hina had shivered as Yoko ran fingertips over his bare skin.
"Fuck," Yoko mutters under his breath, frustrated with himself, with the situation, with pretty much everything going on in his life right now.
Of course, Hina turns around at that, giving Yoko a quizzical look.
"I, uh. I think I lost my phone." Nice cover, Yoko thinks to himself. Hina will definitely believe that.
Hina's eyebrows climb higher, but it's not an expression that suggests anything out of the ordinary, just his usual exasperated face.
"It's right there," he says, pointing to where Yoko's cell phone is poking out of the pocket of his bag.
"Oh," Yoko says, "right. Thanks."
Hina returns to the task of changing clothes, and Yoko pretends to be busy checking his phone for messages, hoping that if he stalls long enough Hina will just leave and he won't have to get undressed in front of him.
"Well," Hina says eventually, "see you tonight."
Yoko waves absently, then actually looks at his phone's screen and realizes he's going to be late for recording if he doesn't leave within the next ten minutes. He changes quickly, washes his face to remove the layer of TV makeup, and is out the door eight minutes later.
During the car ride to the recording studio, Yoko tries to zone out with Monhan, but finds his mind wandering back to Hina any time he stops consciously concentrating on the game. It's like all of the awkwardness he was able to clamp down on while they were on the air together is rushing belatedly through him, mixed with uncomfortable images of Hina taking his clothes off. He shuts off his PSP after the third failure to defeat an extremely easy monster, sighing and rubbing his temples.
Why can't I stop thinking about this? Yoko wonders. He stares out the window at the passing traffic, letting his mind wander since it seems he's helpless to stop it. He remembers something he heard once, about it being easier to solve a problem when you look at it from an outside perspective, so he tries that. If one of his friends came to him and described this problem (in an imaginary world where anyone would actually bring something like that up to Yoko), what would he say to them? What would be the first thing he'd ask?
He thinks for a minute before the answer comes. He'd ask if they had feelings for the person, if maybe they were in love with them.
Oh god, Yoko thinks, am I in love with him?
At this point, Yoko's imagination clicks into overdrive. He imagines himself and Hina in a nice little house outside Osaka, Hina coming home from work in a suit as Yoko finishes dinner in the kitchen. He pictures himself in a pink, frilly apron, drawing Hina a bath. Hina buying him jewelry. Attending their children's school events. Going to bed together every night.
Yoko bangs his forehead against the car window to stop that train of thought, shaking his head. What in the world is wrong with him? And why had he made himself the woman? He takes a few deep breaths, trying to think about the question seriously. Is he in love with Hina?
His immediate reaction is a very firm no, and when Yoko tries to examine it further he finds himself quite sure he doesn't have romantic feelings for Hina. Obviously he thinks Hina's good-looking, and it's not like he didn't enjoy sleeping with him, but when Yoko thinks of Hina, he doesn't feel any differently than when he thinks of any of the other members, or any of his close friends (other than the current addition of extreme awkwardness).
It would almost be easier, really, if he were in love with Hina. At least then he'd have a goal, something he wanted. As it is he just wants to go back to normal, but he's not sure he can do it. That's what's really upsetting him about it, Yoko realizes: the thought that he's irreparably screwed up one of the most important friendships in his life. He tilts his head back with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. If only he were more like Hina, able to plow through these feelings and behave as though nothing out of the ordinary had ever gone on.
Despite Yoko's rush to leave earlier, the car still pulls up in front of the recording studio a few minutes late. He hurries in, muttering apologies to the staff. Yoko always feels guilty if he makes them wait. Maru's already there, sitting on a couch in the back of the studio and looking over some lyric sheets, humming to himself.
"Hey," Yoko says. Maru looks up and smiles as Yoko walks over. The music he's got is for Pan Panda, which they'll record first. Maru had gotten there earlier, to record some of his parts for the other songs, so once they finish he'll be done for the day.
The recording goes pretty smoothly, considering it's one of the parts of his job Yoko tends to hate the most. Listening to his voice played back over headphones still kind of embarrasses him, and he wants to pick at every little mistake. Working with Maru is nice, though. He's strangely attuned to Yoko's moods, and he knows just the right way to distract him and make him laugh when he gets discouraged.
Maru sticks around even after they're done, while the staff get the studio set up for Yoko's parts of one of the album songs. Apparently he'd gotten in early the other day and seen Subaru recording for his solo, and when Yoko asks how it was, Maru does an impression of Subaru, singing the tune of Subaru's song but changing the words into nonsensical puns, and it has Yoko practically hyperventilating with laughter on the sofa.
They call Yoko into the recording booth a little while later, and Maru starts gathering up his things to leave.
"Thanks for staying," Yoko says, before he goes in.
Maru smiles, almost knowingly. "Anytime."
Yoko wonders if Maru can tell what's wrong, or if he just noticed there was something off in Yoko's mood. Hopefully the latter; Yoko hates to think about any of the other members having even an inkling of what went on between him and Hina. He's pretty sure they'd never live it down.
Yoko records for about two hours more, doing his parts in some of the other album songs. It doesn't go quite as smoothly as the recording with Maru had; Yoko's feeling more on edge, especially with the thought in the back of his mind that other people are noticing that something's wrong. He tries to tell himself that thinking about it will only make it more obvious, but he can't stop the wheels from turning in his head, and he keeps making small mistakes, messing up the lyrics or losing his place in the music and singing off-key.
He apologizes profusely to the staff on his way out. The parts he recorded were only supposed to take an hour, maybe an hour and a half, but it had ended up longer because of his mistakes.
It's about 7:30, and Yoko calculates in his head whether or not it would be worth it to try going home before Recomen. He'd lose about an hour in the traveling, and he'd have to make himself dinner; laziness wins out and he finds himself wandering around the neighborhood of the recording studio, looking for somewhere to eat. The studio is in a slightly quiet, residential area near Roppongi, and most of the restaurants around seem kind of upscale, not the type of places Yoko can go into by himself and sit in the corner, maybe play games.
After about half an hour of aimless walking, he finds a suitable-looking family restaurant. He orders one of the dinner sets, eating it quickly when it arrives. Between filming and recording, Yoko hasn't eaten anything other than stuff he'd picked off the snack platter at the filming location. He checks his watch; he still has about half an hour to kill before he needs to go for Recomen.
Don't think about it, he tells himself, do not think about it, but that only works for a few seconds, and then he's getting wound up about how he's going to be stuck in a room with Hina for three hours, trying to act normal. He's more worried about this than he was with Hirunandesu; having people actively watching makes it easier to play a role, but Recomen is so relaxed that some of the time Yoko's just being himself. It doesn't help that there's not really anyone else to depend on to hold up the conversation, just him and Hina.
In the course of his worrying and wishing they had someone else on the show, Yoko comes up with the idea to call Subaru for his birthday, a week early. It'll only take the pressure off for a few minutes, but it'll definitely be more entertaining than if they wait to call when he's expecting it, and Yoko starts to get excited about the idea.
It's a suitable distraction as he heads to the radio station, thinking about how funny it will be, especially if Subaru doesn't figure out at first who the call's come from.
"Let's call Subaru tonight," he says when he walks into the booth.
"His birthday's not until next week," Hina says, glancing up from the magazine in his lap.
"Yeah, but it'll be more fun if we do it tonight," Yoko says. "It's always better when they're not expecting it."
Hina seems to consider it for a minute, smiling. "Good point," he says.
Yoko settles into his chair, opening a bottle of water. He gives the evening's script a cursory scan, leafing through the pages absently, then pushes it away. If he's trying to act normal, actually reading the Recomen script is the last thing he should be doing.
"We should make him comment as Yasu," Hina says, after a few minutes of silence.
"Huh?"
"Subaru. Since we made Yasu pretend to be him before."
Yoko laughs, remembering it. "Good idea," he says. "That'll be great."
It almost seems normal, until Yoko reaches for his water bottle just as Hina's setting down his script, and their hands touch. Yoko jerks his hand away.
Nope, he thinks. Not normal, definitely not.
Hina gives him a sidelong look, but doesn't say anything to acknowledge Yoko's behavior. It's almost time for the broadcast to start, and Yoko wishes he'd just been able to keep up the illusion of normalcy a bit longer. He rubs at his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut, and takes a deep breath.
"I'm gonna have a cigarette," Hina says, getting up. Yoko watches him go through the glass of the booth. He seems perfectly normal, chatting to the staff before he heads out the door.
Yoko wonders if it's possible Hina hasn't noticed the way he's acting. He dismisses that possibility pretty quickly: while Hina can seem oblivious at times, he knows Yoko better than most people, and it's not as if Yoko's been particularly good at hiding his feelings, he thinks ruefully. Why, then, is Hina just letting him go through this mental torture without acknowledging a thing? Does Hina think Yoko's in love with him? The thought makes Yoko laugh at first, imagining Hina worrying about ways to let Yoko down easily, but then it just makes him kind of annoyed. Yoko wonders if Hina's ever going to confront him about it, wonders what good talking about it could even do.
Hina comes back three minutes before the broadcast will start, smelling of smoke. Yoko wrinkles his nose.
"You smell," he says, with more bite than he'd usually put into the words.
"At least I have a reason for it," Hina says, grinning at him.
Yoko pouts, then pulls out his phone to set it to silent.
The show starts out smoothly, the familiar pattern of banter easy enough to settle into, and the first hour goes by easily. Partway through the second hour, Hina's foot knocks against Yoko's under the table, and Yoko spends the next half hour sitting rigid in his chair, feet tucked behind the legs. After midnight they call Subaru, Yoko putting on a Tokyo accent to confuse him, and it's just as hilarious as Yoko had imagined. They ride that out until the end of the show, and Yoko feels mostly okay, until the on-air light goes off and he's no longer on the radio, just in a room with Hina.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Hina asks as they gather up their things to leave.
It's not an out of the ordinary question, probably just an attempt to make conversation, but Yoko still feels nervous and wary.
"I've got Morning Bird with Ohkura and Subaru, then I'm filming Zettai Reido," he says carefully. "Why?"
"Just wondering," Hina says. "Are you nervous about working with Aya?"
Yoko feels himself blush, cursing inwardly. "No," he mumbles.
Hina laughs at him. "I can tell you are," he says, grinning.
In that moment, Yoko kind of hates him.
"I kind of hate you," he says, and maybe he sounds more serious than he'd really intended to because Hina shuts up.
Yoko feels bad, for a second, but then he feels annoyed again: annoyed at himself, annoyed at Hina, annoyed at this idiotic, ridiculous situation he's stuck himself in. He stays annoyed pretty much the whole way home, mentally berating himself for being an idiot and sleeping with Hina, for being unable to deal with it like a normal person, Hina for being the kind of freak who's not bothered by something like this (because secretly Yoko thinks he's the one dealing with it like a normal person), Hina for kissing him in the first place, himself for letting him. It's like a tennis match of annoyance going on in Yoko's head, the blame pinging back and forth between the two of them.
It becomes obvious that Yoko's not successfully hiding his mood when the old lady who works at the convenience store near Yoko's apartment building tells him that she knows he's busy, but he really ought to get some more sleep. He nods guiltily, thanking her as he pays for his onigiri.
Yoko has to be up early, so he plans to rush through his bath, eating the onigiri in front of the television as the tub fills up. As he soaks, he thinks about the next day. He's nervous, of course, despite not wanting to admit it to Hina. Working with Aya on The Quiz Show had done a little bit to make her seem a little more real and dull Yoko's crush on her, but not much; she still stars in the occasional daydream (or masturbatory fantasy). Being a guest in the last episode of a drama is weird enough anyway, with the cast all close with each other already, and Yoko's certain he'll feel like an outsider. At least a lot of the staff know him.
It figures, Yoko thinks bitterly, that the day he gets a break from Hina he has to be thrown into another totally awkward situation. It feels like there's a ball of nerves in his chest any time his mind wanders to Hina, and his brain supplies him with a thousand hazy, alcohol-soaked images of what happened before he can successfully push them out of his thoughts. The bath is usually an easy place for Yoko to relax, to actually turn his mind off for a bit before he falls asleep, but he can't stop the racing of his thoughts, and before he knows it, his fingers have gone pruney and he's probably been in the tub for something like an hour.
Yoko gets out, pulling the drain plug and toweling himself off before pulling on his pajamas. According to the clock under his TV, it's past three in the morning, and when Yoko climbs into his futon, he falls asleep within a few minutes.
It feels like no time's passed at all when Yoko's alarm blares next to his head. He punches the snooze button, rolling over and shoving his face into his pillow, but he can't go back to sleep, so he just lies there, half-awake, until the annoying beeping of his alarm sounds again. He's got about half an hour before it's time to go, so he turns on the TV to have something to half-listen to as he goes about his morning routine.
Subaru's already dozing in the back seat of the car when it pulls up in front of Yoko's building.
"Morning," he says, poking Subaru in the side. He twitches, curling into a ball and mumbling something incoherent without opening his eyes. Yoko pokes him again, to see what will happen.
"Lemmealone," Subaru grumbles, voice sleep-slurred.
"You haven't thanked me for your birthday call yet," Yoko says, pushing through the thick, soft material of Subaru's hoodie to find his ribs. Subaru bats Yoko's hand away, eyes opening briefly before snapping shut against the bright morning sun. He burrows further into the hoodie, hands retracting into the overlong sleeves like a turtle.
"Why are you so wide awake?" he asks.
Yoko shrugs, though Subaru can't see it. He's not particularly sure why, really; he hadn't felt this way while he was getting ready, but something about seeing Subaru there had made him feel somehow at ease.
"I'm just so happy to see you," Yoko says, in as cutesy a tone as he can manage.
Subaru very deliberately opens his eyes, rolls them, and then closes them again. Yoko giggles.
"You're so annoying."
"You love me."
Subaru sticks his tongue out, then pulls his headphones from his bag and turns his ipod on. Yoko pulls his PSP from his own bag, flicking it on. Within a few minutes Subaru is looking over his shoulder as he plays, giving (unwanted) advice, until Yoko shoves him away with a hand on his forehead and tells him to play his own goddamn game.
Ohkura's already there when they get to the studio, halfway through makeup, and as the other stylist starts on Subaru, Yoko looks through the spread of breakfast foods laid out on a buffet table. There's a basket full of croissants, their rich buttery smell making his stomach growl, but Yoko just grabs a fruit cup and some coffee. He flops into a makeup chair, picking through the fruit cup with a plastic fork. He eats all the pineapple pieces first, enough of them that his mouth tingles from the acidity, then the strawberry slices, the big purple grapes, and finally the few mild green slices of melon. While he eats, he tries to listen to Ohkura's conversation with the stylist, but they're talking about foreign celebrity gossip, something about a wedding and some woman with a name Yoko can't decipher, so he tunes it out in favor of paging through a magazine in front of him. It's not much more interesting, but by the time Yoko's done eating, the stylist is finished with Ohkura and ready for him.
"You're filming for Zettai Reido later, right?" Ohkura asks conversationally. Yoko glances at him in the mirror. He's eating one of the croissants from the buffet table, fingertips glistening in the bright light from the mirrors.
Yoko hums an answer, not feeling up to having a conversation about his impending nervousness.
"Ryo-chan said he's in the next studio over," Ohkura continues, grinning and leaning in conspiratorially, "so you can go hide there if you get scared."
"Go stuff your face elsewhere," Yoko says, narrowing his eyes and meeting Ohkura's gaze in the mirror. The effect is probably ruined by the fact that he's blushing, but Ohkura wanders off anyway, a smirk on his lips.
Once the stylist is finished with Yoko, they have about fifteen minutes before they go on. They watch the show on a monitor in the green room, the hosts going over the top news stories of the morning, then a break for the weather report before they're ushered off to wait in the wings until they go to commercial.
"The show's on at eight, right?" Yoko mumbles to Subaru, thirty seconds before the cameras start to roll. He's suddenly afraid he's going to forget and say the wrong time when they ask. Subaru nods, and he's still half-laughing when the filming starts.
It goes smoothly, and Yoko's in a good mood by the time their segment is over.
They go their separate ways after they change and wash their faces, Subaru heading home, Ohkura to a studio to meet Yasu and Hina and record their song, and Yoko to the TV studio.
"Tell Hina I say thanks for the birthday call," Subaru says to Ohkura, grinning pointedly at Yoko.
Yoko sticks out his tongue, and Ohkura looks between the two of them, perplexed, before shrugging and ducking out the door.
"Ungrateful," Yoko mutters.
Subaru's leaning against the doorframe, watching Yoko gather his things.
"Nah," Subaru says, "with a married couple, saying thank you to one is just like saying it to both, anyway!"
Yoko drops his phone, the plastic casing of it clattering loudly against the floor.
"We're not a married couple!" he says, and maybe he's said it a little too emphatically because Subaru's laughing at him now, shaking his head.
"Sure, sure," he says between laughs, "whatever you say."
Yoko doesn't respond, worried that anything he says will just dig him deeper into the hole, and instead focuses on picking up his phone. The drop had loosened the battery, and the screen is blank until he jiggles it back into place. He should really get a new phone, but every time he goes into the shop he just gives up, overwhelmed by all the choices, new technology he doesn't understand. When he looks up, Subaru's still standing in the doorway, giving him a thoughtful, wide-eyed look.
"What?" Yoko says. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"I think that's you," Subaru says with a quirk of his eyebrow. Yoko looks down at the phone in his hand, the display slowly lighting up with the time, and Subaru's right; he's going to be late if he stays any longer.
On the way to the studio, Yoko pulls the script out of his bag. He only appears in the last scene, and he'd already memorized the few lines he has a couple of days ago, but he goes over it again, partly to keep his mind occupied. He doesn't want to make a mistake, either, since he doesn't have much to remember anyway.
Part Two
From: spurious
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
Title: 7:48
Pairing/Group: Yoko/Hina
Rating: R
Warnings: None
Notes: Thank you to KGB for tirelessly supporting the creation of this fic. Thanks also to E for looking it over in the final stages, and others for listening to my whining at various points in the writing process. pinkpapyrus, I hope you like it! ♥
Summary: It's 7:48 on a sunny Tuesday morning in September, and Yoko is naked in Hina's bed.
Yoko's first thought upon waking up is oh god, what time is it? The sun is peeking in through hastily-drawn curtains, long stripes of light over the floor and across the end of the bed. Yoko turns over, feeling his stomach churn in protest at the movement, and looks at the clock: 7:48.
It's 7:48 on a sunny Tuesday morning in September, and Yoko is naked in Hina's bed.
He thinks back over the previous night: they'd gone out, both knocking back more than they might usually to cover for the awkwardness of being alone together, and somehow Hina had convinced Yoko to come back to his place. Yoko remembers a taxi ride, remembers stumbling through Hina's door. They'd drank more once they got there, sitting on Hina's floor and watching something stupid on TV while they sipped at their beers. Yoko remembers Hina's lips pressed firm and demanding against his own, but that's not all that out of the ordinary; he's woken up more than a few times to the memory of being kissed by Hina. He doesn't know what made that night so much different, how the kiss led to the string of hazy memories he has now: of the smooth, muscled planes of Hina's body under his hands, of Hina pressing him back against the bed.
The memories bring a rush of conflicting feelings flooding through Yoko, a host of things he doesn't really want to examine while he's both horrifically hungover and also on the verge of what will probably be the most awkward morning after he's ever experienced (possibly the most awkward morning after any human being has ever experienced, if Yoko allows his dramatic tendencies to come out a bit). He hears shifting next to him and tries to even out his breathing, so Hina can't tell he's already awake. He'll have plenty of time to think about the previous night later: for now Yoko needs to concentrate on getting out of there without having to acknowledge what happened. There's a sleepy snuffling sound from the other side of the bed, a rustling of sheets, but then Hina's still. Yoko can hear the evenness of his deep breaths, and he's had Hina fall asleep next to him on the train often enough to identify the sound. He's fast asleep, so if Yoko's quiet enough he shouldn't wake up at a little movement.
Luckily, Yoko's on the outside edge of the bed. He looks around the room in the early morning dimness, searching for the clothes he'd been wearing yesterday. He sees his t-shirt on the floor near the bedroom door, Hina's shirt lying next to it; and his jeans are at the foot of the bed, one leg inside out. He casts a hopeful eye around in search of his underwear, but they're nowhere to be seen. Yoko mentally debates the risk of getting up and trying to look around for them, but eventually decides to leave them as a casualty. Getting out without waking Hina is more important.
Yoko slips out of the bed slowly, grabbing his pants and padding across the floor for his shirt. He spares a backward glance at Hina, who's sprawled out on the right side of the bed, face mashed against his pillow. A traitorous part of Yoko thinks, cute, but he squashes it down, slipping out through the half-closed bedroom door.
He gets dressed in the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and running a comb quickly through his hair so he looks like slightly less of a complete mess, and then he picks up his bag from where he'd left it by the sofa and slips out the door. The elevator ride to the building's lobby doesn't do much to help the state of Yoko's stomach, still threatening to remind him just what he'd eaten last night at every sudden movement he makes, but he makes it down, pulling on a hat he'd left in his bag and a pair of sunglasses before stepping out the door.
Hina's apartment building is tucked into a somewhat quiet neighborhood, so Yoko has to walk a few blocks before he reaches a street busy enough to find a cab. The morning air is cool; he'd probably think the breeze was pleasant if he were in a better mood, but as it is all he can think about is getting home, taking a shower, and then curling up on his futon to sleep (or worry endlessly).
The ride from Hina's place to Yoko's takes about half an hour if the traffic is good, but it's a weekday morning so the going is slow, a series of lurching starts and stops that have Yoko worrying he's going to have to roll down the window to throw up. He tries to keep his mind occupied, listening to the inane morning radio program the cab driver's playing, but it doesn't last long, and soon enough he's thinking about the night before. There's an uncomfortable tingling rush as Yoko pieces together the memories, recalls pushing his hand into Hina's pants, mouthing at his hot skin, lying back on Hina's bed with his knees up while Hina fingered him. It feels like trying to remember a dream, the details slipping away whenever he tries to grasp at them, nothing but a series of finely-connected images and sensations. Yoko remembers the feeling of Hina's cock inside of him almost too clearly and he shivers, throat going dry.
He does roll down the window then, hoping the cool air will lessen the sudden warmth he feels in his face, creeping down the back of his neck. No, Yoko thinks, trying to remember what happened definitely isn't going to help. But there's a part of him (a rather big part of him, if he's honest) that wants to remember every detail, if only because he knows it's never going to happen again. Then, of course, there's the anxious, insecure part of him that's thinking, was I any good?
Yoko's certainly not a blushing virgin, but he knows for a fact (if rumors, dressing room whispers, and drunken bragging count as fact: to Yoko, they do) that Hina's got more experience than he does, and it's not like he was at his best last night, if his current hangover and inability to remember the details of the encounter are anything to go by.
There is something seriously wrong with his life, Yoko concludes, when he's just woken up from a drunken one-night-stand with one of his best friends, someone he's known half his life, someone he basically considers family, and the first thing he thinks is whether or not it had been good for him.
Thinking of it that way reminds Yoko of all of the other potential reasons for anxiety, like, most notably, the fact that this is surely going to screw up their friendship, how awkward it's going to make working together--working together, oh god, they work together, they can't just avoid each other until the awkwardness blows over, and what if the other members find out?
Yoko's panic attack is interrupted by the taxi arriving outside his building. He distractedly counts out the fare, ducking out of the cab and heading inside. He's kind of hungry, but there's not much to eat in his apartment, aside from bananas. He peels one and gets through about half of it before feeling like he's going to throw up, so he sets it down on the kitchen counter, going to take a shower instead.
The shower makes Yoko feel slightly more human. He stands under the spray, warm water beating down on his head, and tries to clear his mind. It's marginally easier now than it had been in the cab, his thoughts not racing as much anymore, but there's still a ball of anxiety sitting in the pit of his stomach, and Yoko knows from experience the only thing that will make it go away is time (or alcohol, but he doesn't even want to think about drinking, the way he feels).
By the time Yoko's out of the shower it's 9:30, almost time for him to go to work. He has photoshoots and magazine interviews scheduled for today, nothing with the other members, and never before has he been so thankful for the annoying monotony of answering a series of inane questions and taking a bunch of stupid pictures. It's not taxing enough that he can't do it hungover and sleep-deprived, but it requires enough of his attention that he can't spend the day thinking about what had happened with Hina. When he gets home, he has just enough energy to eat the bento he'd picked up on the way, take a bath, and collapse onto his futon.
When Yoko wakes up the next morning, he has about thirty seconds of blissful, sleep-fuzzy unawareness before his brain reminds him, you slept with Hina, and you're going to have to see him today.
Thankfully, they have meetings about the concert tour that day, so the other members will be there. He'll hopefully be able to avoid talking to Hina without seeming too weird; the other members will probably just chalk it up to Yoko being in a mood and not think anything of it, if they notice at all. Yoko's more worried about how he's going to handle Thursday: between Hirunandesu and Recomen, he basically spends the whole day with Hina. He tries to put it out of his mind for now, figuring he can take it one day at a time. Maybe, he thinks with a burst of uncharacteristic optimism, it won't even be that awkward.
It's more awkward than Yoko could have possibly imagined. He arrives to the meeting just barely on time, not wanting to be early in case Hina was also early and they got stuck alone together. When he comes into the meeting room he sees everyone else there but Ohkura. They all look at him, mumbling their greetings, and Yoko says good morning, looking anywhere but at Hina. He slides into an empty chair between Subaru and Ryo, the farthest away from Hina he can get, and they continue the conversation they'd been having about some TV show Yoko hasn't seen. He finds himself relaxing a bit, listening to the familiar chatter of his bandmates. Things seem almost normal, enough that Yoko decides to chance a look over at Hina. He's playing with his phone, and Yoko watches for a moment until Hina looks up. Yoko's frozen, heart in his throat, but Hina just smiles at him, like everything's totally normal, and then looks back at his phone.
How can he be acting normal about this? Yoko thinks. Of course, it kind of figures. Hina's like a brick wall; it's almost impossible to knock him off-balance. Yoko finds himself sort of annoyed just thinking about it. Here he was, agonizing over how horrible it was going to be the next time they saw each other, while Hina probably hadn't even given it a second thought! It makes Yoko feel insignificant, somehow, like he's not even important enough to catch Hina's attention. He probably has no idea how Yoko's feeling right now.
He's just about to look up from where he's been staring at a spot on the table to glare at Hina a little bit, but then Ohkura walks in, and shortly after that the meeting starts. They talk for seemingly hours about staging things in the domes, how they want the layout to look and what kind of pyrotechnics they can get away with. Yoko tries to throw himself into the discussion of every minute detail, even stuff he wouldn't normally care about, because every time he lets his mind rest, he's suddenly reminded of Hina's presence, of the tangled knot in his stomach.
"I like this one better," Hina says, pointing to one of the five possible stage diagrams laid out on the big meeting table.
"That one's stupid," Yoko says. He'd normally be a bit more diplomatic, but his earlier annoyance is getting the best of him. He regrets it as soon as he says it, though, because then Hina's looking at him with this weird, confused expression, and the others are giving him sidelong glances. He feels his face heat up a little and leans back in his chair, avoiding their eyes. "I mean, that's just my opinion," he mumbles. "What do you guys think?"
There's a moment of awkward silence before the discussion continues as normal. Thankfully it's not that unusual for one of them to make a comment like that; long meetings mean tempers run high, and no one seems all that concerned about it.
Maru invites Yoko out for dinner after the meeting.
"Who's coming?" Yoko asks, trying not to glance obviously over to the corner where Hina's sliding a folder into his bag.
"Just you, so far," Maru says, smiling. When Yoko says nothing, he goes on, "I asked Shin-chan, but he said he has plans already."
"Of course he does," Yoko mumbles, mostly to himself. He clears his throat, looking back at Maru. "Yeah, sure, I'll go."
Maru invites Subaru along as they're on their way out, and the three of them head to a restaurant near the company building. Yoko figures it's better to go out and keep his mind off of the fact that he's going to have to work with Hina for half the day tomorrow, and Maru and Subaru are fun, easy to be around. The beer flows freely, and Yoko can just sit back, stuff his face, and watch the two of them telling and cracking up at jokes no one else understands. By the time he's climbing into a taxi, Yoko's already starting to nod off, and he's on autopilot when he gets home and takes a bath before curling up on his futon and falling asleep.
Yoko wakes up on Thursday morning overwhelmed with a feeling of dread. He mentally reviews his schedule for the day: Hirunandesu filming, then recording for the album, then Recomen. He doesn't know if Hina has recording today too; if he does, they'll probably take the same car there. At the very least, he's going to be spending something like six hours with Hina. Yoko (tenuously) trusts himself to be professional while they're actually on air, and Hina, if the previous day is any indication, is going to act as though everything's totally normal, but what's tying Yoko's stomach into knots is the thought of sitting in the green room with him, sharing a car, or sitting through other people's corners and commercial breaks during Recomen.
As Yoko brushes his teeth and gets dressed, he mentally reviews the parts of the songs he's supposed to record today, trying to keep his mind busy. As soon as he gets in the car to head to the studio, he pulls out his PSP. Games are always a surefire distraction.
Yoko's just finished killing a particularly troublesome monster when the car pulls up at the studio. He takes a deep breath, thanks the driver, and gets out. As he walks through the halls, he tries to steel himself, to calm his nerves. It's just Hina, he tries to tell himself, but a louder part of his mind is screaming you had sex with him!!!, and at the moment, that's the part that's winning.
"'Morning," Yoko mumbles, pushing open the door of the green room. Hina's already there, sitting in front of a mirror and messing with his hair.
"'Morning," he says back, looking at Yoko through the mirror.
Yoko puts his bag down, busying himself with looking through the wardrobe rack for his clothes. He sneaks glances at Hina through the mirror, watching him play with his hair a little more. It occurs to Yoko that he has to change clothes, that normally he'd have no problem stripping down in their dressing room with Hina right there, but now the thought of taking off his clothes while in the same room as Hina makes him want to hide in the wardrobe rack and never come out. He's frozen with his hand on a hanger when he hears movement next to him, and he turns.
"I found these when I was cleaning," Hina says, holding out a plastic grocery bag. Yoko takes it, opening it apprehensively. Inside the bag is a pair of underwear. His underwear. His underwear that he'd been unable to find the other morning. His underwear that had been left somewhere in Hina's apartment after they had sex with each other.
"Thanks," he mumbles, staring, dumbstruck, at the bag. He watches Hina's feet move away in his peripheral vision.
"No problem," he says, then slips out the door, leaving Yoko standing by the wardrobe rack, holding a grocery bag with his underwear in it.
Yoko looks again. They're nicely folded, and he can smell Hina's laundry detergent when he opens the bag. That means Hina not only found them and identified them as Yoko's, but he actually put them in the wash, folded them and brought them here. Yoko imagines what he would have done if the situation were reversed, if he'd found Hina's underwear in his own apartment. He has a brief vision of setting up a barrier around the area, with traffic cones and police tape. In reality, he'd probably stuff them into the bottom of his hamper and leave them for his future self to deal with. He might throw them away, if they didn't seem expensive. What he would definitely not do is wash them, fold them, and cheerily bring them to Hina at work.
Yoko crumples up the bag, shoving it into the bottom of his own bag. He takes the opportunity of Hina being gone to change, as quickly as possible. If there's one thing Yoko's gotten the hang of in his years in Johnny's, it's how to change his clothes quickly, and he's finished long before Hina comes back. He flops down on the couch, sighing heavily. How can Hina be so casual about this? Yoko again finds himself offended by Hina's seeming lack of concern. It's not that he wants to talk about it, or something: far from it. He just wishes Hina would seem at least a little shaken up, a little uncomfortable, a little different somehow.
Hina comes back, then, and Yoko checks his watch. He still has about half an hour before he needs to be in makeup, so he pulls out his PSP and switches it on. As the title screen loads, he glances across the room at Hina, who's leaning back in a chair flipping through the newspaper. Then the game starts, and Yoko loses himself in it until it's time for them to head over to makeup.
Filming goes pretty much the same as usual, almost easier than Yoko had expected. He's reminded of his own discomfort each time Hina happens to hit him, but he manages to shake it off quickly enough, sliding smoothly into his usual television persona.
"What are you doing now?" Hina asks as they head back to the green room after the show.
"Recording," Yoko says. "You?"
"Just going to lunch," Hina says, and Yoko lets out a breath. "I'm doing recording tomorrow."
The moment they walk into the dressing room, Hina's already stripping off his shirt, pulling up on the back of it with one hand and revealing the curve of his back. Yoko immediately turns away, trying to shove down the visions his mind immediately provides, of Hina doing the same thing the other night. He recalls, with uncomfortable clarity, the way Hina had shivered as Yoko ran fingertips over his bare skin.
"Fuck," Yoko mutters under his breath, frustrated with himself, with the situation, with pretty much everything going on in his life right now.
Of course, Hina turns around at that, giving Yoko a quizzical look.
"I, uh. I think I lost my phone." Nice cover, Yoko thinks to himself. Hina will definitely believe that.
Hina's eyebrows climb higher, but it's not an expression that suggests anything out of the ordinary, just his usual exasperated face.
"It's right there," he says, pointing to where Yoko's cell phone is poking out of the pocket of his bag.
"Oh," Yoko says, "right. Thanks."
Hina returns to the task of changing clothes, and Yoko pretends to be busy checking his phone for messages, hoping that if he stalls long enough Hina will just leave and he won't have to get undressed in front of him.
"Well," Hina says eventually, "see you tonight."
Yoko waves absently, then actually looks at his phone's screen and realizes he's going to be late for recording if he doesn't leave within the next ten minutes. He changes quickly, washes his face to remove the layer of TV makeup, and is out the door eight minutes later.
During the car ride to the recording studio, Yoko tries to zone out with Monhan, but finds his mind wandering back to Hina any time he stops consciously concentrating on the game. It's like all of the awkwardness he was able to clamp down on while they were on the air together is rushing belatedly through him, mixed with uncomfortable images of Hina taking his clothes off. He shuts off his PSP after the third failure to defeat an extremely easy monster, sighing and rubbing his temples.
Why can't I stop thinking about this? Yoko wonders. He stares out the window at the passing traffic, letting his mind wander since it seems he's helpless to stop it. He remembers something he heard once, about it being easier to solve a problem when you look at it from an outside perspective, so he tries that. If one of his friends came to him and described this problem (in an imaginary world where anyone would actually bring something like that up to Yoko), what would he say to them? What would be the first thing he'd ask?
He thinks for a minute before the answer comes. He'd ask if they had feelings for the person, if maybe they were in love with them.
Oh god, Yoko thinks, am I in love with him?
At this point, Yoko's imagination clicks into overdrive. He imagines himself and Hina in a nice little house outside Osaka, Hina coming home from work in a suit as Yoko finishes dinner in the kitchen. He pictures himself in a pink, frilly apron, drawing Hina a bath. Hina buying him jewelry. Attending their children's school events. Going to bed together every night.
Yoko bangs his forehead against the car window to stop that train of thought, shaking his head. What in the world is wrong with him? And why had he made himself the woman? He takes a few deep breaths, trying to think about the question seriously. Is he in love with Hina?
His immediate reaction is a very firm no, and when Yoko tries to examine it further he finds himself quite sure he doesn't have romantic feelings for Hina. Obviously he thinks Hina's good-looking, and it's not like he didn't enjoy sleeping with him, but when Yoko thinks of Hina, he doesn't feel any differently than when he thinks of any of the other members, or any of his close friends (other than the current addition of extreme awkwardness).
It would almost be easier, really, if he were in love with Hina. At least then he'd have a goal, something he wanted. As it is he just wants to go back to normal, but he's not sure he can do it. That's what's really upsetting him about it, Yoko realizes: the thought that he's irreparably screwed up one of the most important friendships in his life. He tilts his head back with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. If only he were more like Hina, able to plow through these feelings and behave as though nothing out of the ordinary had ever gone on.
Despite Yoko's rush to leave earlier, the car still pulls up in front of the recording studio a few minutes late. He hurries in, muttering apologies to the staff. Yoko always feels guilty if he makes them wait. Maru's already there, sitting on a couch in the back of the studio and looking over some lyric sheets, humming to himself.
"Hey," Yoko says. Maru looks up and smiles as Yoko walks over. The music he's got is for Pan Panda, which they'll record first. Maru had gotten there earlier, to record some of his parts for the other songs, so once they finish he'll be done for the day.
The recording goes pretty smoothly, considering it's one of the parts of his job Yoko tends to hate the most. Listening to his voice played back over headphones still kind of embarrasses him, and he wants to pick at every little mistake. Working with Maru is nice, though. He's strangely attuned to Yoko's moods, and he knows just the right way to distract him and make him laugh when he gets discouraged.
Maru sticks around even after they're done, while the staff get the studio set up for Yoko's parts of one of the album songs. Apparently he'd gotten in early the other day and seen Subaru recording for his solo, and when Yoko asks how it was, Maru does an impression of Subaru, singing the tune of Subaru's song but changing the words into nonsensical puns, and it has Yoko practically hyperventilating with laughter on the sofa.
They call Yoko into the recording booth a little while later, and Maru starts gathering up his things to leave.
"Thanks for staying," Yoko says, before he goes in.
Maru smiles, almost knowingly. "Anytime."
Yoko wonders if Maru can tell what's wrong, or if he just noticed there was something off in Yoko's mood. Hopefully the latter; Yoko hates to think about any of the other members having even an inkling of what went on between him and Hina. He's pretty sure they'd never live it down.
Yoko records for about two hours more, doing his parts in some of the other album songs. It doesn't go quite as smoothly as the recording with Maru had; Yoko's feeling more on edge, especially with the thought in the back of his mind that other people are noticing that something's wrong. He tries to tell himself that thinking about it will only make it more obvious, but he can't stop the wheels from turning in his head, and he keeps making small mistakes, messing up the lyrics or losing his place in the music and singing off-key.
He apologizes profusely to the staff on his way out. The parts he recorded were only supposed to take an hour, maybe an hour and a half, but it had ended up longer because of his mistakes.
It's about 7:30, and Yoko calculates in his head whether or not it would be worth it to try going home before Recomen. He'd lose about an hour in the traveling, and he'd have to make himself dinner; laziness wins out and he finds himself wandering around the neighborhood of the recording studio, looking for somewhere to eat. The studio is in a slightly quiet, residential area near Roppongi, and most of the restaurants around seem kind of upscale, not the type of places Yoko can go into by himself and sit in the corner, maybe play games.
After about half an hour of aimless walking, he finds a suitable-looking family restaurant. He orders one of the dinner sets, eating it quickly when it arrives. Between filming and recording, Yoko hasn't eaten anything other than stuff he'd picked off the snack platter at the filming location. He checks his watch; he still has about half an hour to kill before he needs to go for Recomen.
Don't think about it, he tells himself, do not think about it, but that only works for a few seconds, and then he's getting wound up about how he's going to be stuck in a room with Hina for three hours, trying to act normal. He's more worried about this than he was with Hirunandesu; having people actively watching makes it easier to play a role, but Recomen is so relaxed that some of the time Yoko's just being himself. It doesn't help that there's not really anyone else to depend on to hold up the conversation, just him and Hina.
In the course of his worrying and wishing they had someone else on the show, Yoko comes up with the idea to call Subaru for his birthday, a week early. It'll only take the pressure off for a few minutes, but it'll definitely be more entertaining than if they wait to call when he's expecting it, and Yoko starts to get excited about the idea.
It's a suitable distraction as he heads to the radio station, thinking about how funny it will be, especially if Subaru doesn't figure out at first who the call's come from.
"Let's call Subaru tonight," he says when he walks into the booth.
"His birthday's not until next week," Hina says, glancing up from the magazine in his lap.
"Yeah, but it'll be more fun if we do it tonight," Yoko says. "It's always better when they're not expecting it."
Hina seems to consider it for a minute, smiling. "Good point," he says.
Yoko settles into his chair, opening a bottle of water. He gives the evening's script a cursory scan, leafing through the pages absently, then pushes it away. If he's trying to act normal, actually reading the Recomen script is the last thing he should be doing.
"We should make him comment as Yasu," Hina says, after a few minutes of silence.
"Huh?"
"Subaru. Since we made Yasu pretend to be him before."
Yoko laughs, remembering it. "Good idea," he says. "That'll be great."
It almost seems normal, until Yoko reaches for his water bottle just as Hina's setting down his script, and their hands touch. Yoko jerks his hand away.
Nope, he thinks. Not normal, definitely not.
Hina gives him a sidelong look, but doesn't say anything to acknowledge Yoko's behavior. It's almost time for the broadcast to start, and Yoko wishes he'd just been able to keep up the illusion of normalcy a bit longer. He rubs at his forehead, squeezing his eyes shut, and takes a deep breath.
"I'm gonna have a cigarette," Hina says, getting up. Yoko watches him go through the glass of the booth. He seems perfectly normal, chatting to the staff before he heads out the door.
Yoko wonders if it's possible Hina hasn't noticed the way he's acting. He dismisses that possibility pretty quickly: while Hina can seem oblivious at times, he knows Yoko better than most people, and it's not as if Yoko's been particularly good at hiding his feelings, he thinks ruefully. Why, then, is Hina just letting him go through this mental torture without acknowledging a thing? Does Hina think Yoko's in love with him? The thought makes Yoko laugh at first, imagining Hina worrying about ways to let Yoko down easily, but then it just makes him kind of annoyed. Yoko wonders if Hina's ever going to confront him about it, wonders what good talking about it could even do.
Hina comes back three minutes before the broadcast will start, smelling of smoke. Yoko wrinkles his nose.
"You smell," he says, with more bite than he'd usually put into the words.
"At least I have a reason for it," Hina says, grinning at him.
Yoko pouts, then pulls out his phone to set it to silent.
The show starts out smoothly, the familiar pattern of banter easy enough to settle into, and the first hour goes by easily. Partway through the second hour, Hina's foot knocks against Yoko's under the table, and Yoko spends the next half hour sitting rigid in his chair, feet tucked behind the legs. After midnight they call Subaru, Yoko putting on a Tokyo accent to confuse him, and it's just as hilarious as Yoko had imagined. They ride that out until the end of the show, and Yoko feels mostly okay, until the on-air light goes off and he's no longer on the radio, just in a room with Hina.
"What are you doing tomorrow?" Hina asks as they gather up their things to leave.
It's not an out of the ordinary question, probably just an attempt to make conversation, but Yoko still feels nervous and wary.
"I've got Morning Bird with Ohkura and Subaru, then I'm filming Zettai Reido," he says carefully. "Why?"
"Just wondering," Hina says. "Are you nervous about working with Aya?"
Yoko feels himself blush, cursing inwardly. "No," he mumbles.
Hina laughs at him. "I can tell you are," he says, grinning.
In that moment, Yoko kind of hates him.
"I kind of hate you," he says, and maybe he sounds more serious than he'd really intended to because Hina shuts up.
Yoko feels bad, for a second, but then he feels annoyed again: annoyed at himself, annoyed at Hina, annoyed at this idiotic, ridiculous situation he's stuck himself in. He stays annoyed pretty much the whole way home, mentally berating himself for being an idiot and sleeping with Hina, for being unable to deal with it like a normal person, Hina for being the kind of freak who's not bothered by something like this (because secretly Yoko thinks he's the one dealing with it like a normal person), Hina for kissing him in the first place, himself for letting him. It's like a tennis match of annoyance going on in Yoko's head, the blame pinging back and forth between the two of them.
It becomes obvious that Yoko's not successfully hiding his mood when the old lady who works at the convenience store near Yoko's apartment building tells him that she knows he's busy, but he really ought to get some more sleep. He nods guiltily, thanking her as he pays for his onigiri.
Yoko has to be up early, so he plans to rush through his bath, eating the onigiri in front of the television as the tub fills up. As he soaks, he thinks about the next day. He's nervous, of course, despite not wanting to admit it to Hina. Working with Aya on The Quiz Show had done a little bit to make her seem a little more real and dull Yoko's crush on her, but not much; she still stars in the occasional daydream (or masturbatory fantasy). Being a guest in the last episode of a drama is weird enough anyway, with the cast all close with each other already, and Yoko's certain he'll feel like an outsider. At least a lot of the staff know him.
It figures, Yoko thinks bitterly, that the day he gets a break from Hina he has to be thrown into another totally awkward situation. It feels like there's a ball of nerves in his chest any time his mind wanders to Hina, and his brain supplies him with a thousand hazy, alcohol-soaked images of what happened before he can successfully push them out of his thoughts. The bath is usually an easy place for Yoko to relax, to actually turn his mind off for a bit before he falls asleep, but he can't stop the racing of his thoughts, and before he knows it, his fingers have gone pruney and he's probably been in the tub for something like an hour.
Yoko gets out, pulling the drain plug and toweling himself off before pulling on his pajamas. According to the clock under his TV, it's past three in the morning, and when Yoko climbs into his futon, he falls asleep within a few minutes.
It feels like no time's passed at all when Yoko's alarm blares next to his head. He punches the snooze button, rolling over and shoving his face into his pillow, but he can't go back to sleep, so he just lies there, half-awake, until the annoying beeping of his alarm sounds again. He's got about half an hour before it's time to go, so he turns on the TV to have something to half-listen to as he goes about his morning routine.
Subaru's already dozing in the back seat of the car when it pulls up in front of Yoko's building.
"Morning," he says, poking Subaru in the side. He twitches, curling into a ball and mumbling something incoherent without opening his eyes. Yoko pokes him again, to see what will happen.
"Lemmealone," Subaru grumbles, voice sleep-slurred.
"You haven't thanked me for your birthday call yet," Yoko says, pushing through the thick, soft material of Subaru's hoodie to find his ribs. Subaru bats Yoko's hand away, eyes opening briefly before snapping shut against the bright morning sun. He burrows further into the hoodie, hands retracting into the overlong sleeves like a turtle.
"Why are you so wide awake?" he asks.
Yoko shrugs, though Subaru can't see it. He's not particularly sure why, really; he hadn't felt this way while he was getting ready, but something about seeing Subaru there had made him feel somehow at ease.
"I'm just so happy to see you," Yoko says, in as cutesy a tone as he can manage.
Subaru very deliberately opens his eyes, rolls them, and then closes them again. Yoko giggles.
"You're so annoying."
"You love me."
Subaru sticks his tongue out, then pulls his headphones from his bag and turns his ipod on. Yoko pulls his PSP from his own bag, flicking it on. Within a few minutes Subaru is looking over his shoulder as he plays, giving (unwanted) advice, until Yoko shoves him away with a hand on his forehead and tells him to play his own goddamn game.
Ohkura's already there when they get to the studio, halfway through makeup, and as the other stylist starts on Subaru, Yoko looks through the spread of breakfast foods laid out on a buffet table. There's a basket full of croissants, their rich buttery smell making his stomach growl, but Yoko just grabs a fruit cup and some coffee. He flops into a makeup chair, picking through the fruit cup with a plastic fork. He eats all the pineapple pieces first, enough of them that his mouth tingles from the acidity, then the strawberry slices, the big purple grapes, and finally the few mild green slices of melon. While he eats, he tries to listen to Ohkura's conversation with the stylist, but they're talking about foreign celebrity gossip, something about a wedding and some woman with a name Yoko can't decipher, so he tunes it out in favor of paging through a magazine in front of him. It's not much more interesting, but by the time Yoko's done eating, the stylist is finished with Ohkura and ready for him.
"You're filming for Zettai Reido later, right?" Ohkura asks conversationally. Yoko glances at him in the mirror. He's eating one of the croissants from the buffet table, fingertips glistening in the bright light from the mirrors.
Yoko hums an answer, not feeling up to having a conversation about his impending nervousness.
"Ryo-chan said he's in the next studio over," Ohkura continues, grinning and leaning in conspiratorially, "so you can go hide there if you get scared."
"Go stuff your face elsewhere," Yoko says, narrowing his eyes and meeting Ohkura's gaze in the mirror. The effect is probably ruined by the fact that he's blushing, but Ohkura wanders off anyway, a smirk on his lips.
Once the stylist is finished with Yoko, they have about fifteen minutes before they go on. They watch the show on a monitor in the green room, the hosts going over the top news stories of the morning, then a break for the weather report before they're ushered off to wait in the wings until they go to commercial.
"The show's on at eight, right?" Yoko mumbles to Subaru, thirty seconds before the cameras start to roll. He's suddenly afraid he's going to forget and say the wrong time when they ask. Subaru nods, and he's still half-laughing when the filming starts.
It goes smoothly, and Yoko's in a good mood by the time their segment is over.
They go their separate ways after they change and wash their faces, Subaru heading home, Ohkura to a studio to meet Yasu and Hina and record their song, and Yoko to the TV studio.
"Tell Hina I say thanks for the birthday call," Subaru says to Ohkura, grinning pointedly at Yoko.
Yoko sticks out his tongue, and Ohkura looks between the two of them, perplexed, before shrugging and ducking out the door.
"Ungrateful," Yoko mutters.
Subaru's leaning against the doorframe, watching Yoko gather his things.
"Nah," Subaru says, "with a married couple, saying thank you to one is just like saying it to both, anyway!"
Yoko drops his phone, the plastic casing of it clattering loudly against the floor.
"We're not a married couple!" he says, and maybe he's said it a little too emphatically because Subaru's laughing at him now, shaking his head.
"Sure, sure," he says between laughs, "whatever you say."
Yoko doesn't respond, worried that anything he says will just dig him deeper into the hole, and instead focuses on picking up his phone. The drop had loosened the battery, and the screen is blank until he jiggles it back into place. He should really get a new phone, but every time he goes into the shop he just gives up, overwhelmed by all the choices, new technology he doesn't understand. When he looks up, Subaru's still standing in the doorway, giving him a thoughtful, wide-eyed look.
"What?" Yoko says. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"
"I think that's you," Subaru says with a quirk of his eyebrow. Yoko looks down at the phone in his hand, the display slowly lighting up with the time, and Subaru's right; he's going to be late if he stays any longer.
On the way to the studio, Yoko pulls the script out of his bag. He only appears in the last scene, and he'd already memorized the few lines he has a couple of days ago, but he goes over it again, partly to keep his mind occupied. He doesn't want to make a mistake, either, since he doesn't have much to remember anyway.
Part Two