[One-shot] Everybody GO~!!
Title: Everybody GO~!!
Author: crazy_otaku911
Groups/Pairings: EbiKisu - Goseki/Fujigaya
Rating: PG
Summary: The rehearsal hall is hardly part of Fujigaya's ideal day off.
Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction.
Warnings: None (minus a single swear word)
A/N: 8| If there is tense fail, it is all omoikkiri's fault and the title is her fault too. Inspired by Fujigaya's latest Jweb (or the fact that EbiKisu is always all over each other. ♥) Yay cheese!
The ever familiar rehearsal hall is hardly Fujigaya’s idea of a day off - he spends enough time facing his reflection and its flaws as is - but he stifles a yawn and complaint, shooting his companion another questioning look. Goseki just shrugs, grinning as he drops his hat onto their small pile of personal possessions.
Days off are wonderfully relaxed and Fujigaya likes sleeping in when he can, but the day had greeted him with his mother tugging the covers off. You have a guest, Taisuke.
Stumbling out of bed, he finds Goseki eyeing him from the doorway. “Wh’th’fuck?” Fujigaya grumbles at him, fumbling to his phone to read the numbers. 8:30AM. “Gocchi, why am I awake?”
It’s a little strange, seeing Goseki standing there like that’s right where he belongs. Such a Goseki-type thing, yet Fujigaya can’t recall the last time the other man has just been there. Been around him.
Goseki laughs, doesn’t answer, and holds out a cup of still-steaming coffee. “Maybe I missed you~.”
Fujigaya grunts at him, only appeased when he takes a sip of coffee, letting his bleary irritation sigh out of him as the drink warms through his body. It’s nice knowing Goseki still knows how he likes his coffee. “What do you want?”
“You.”
And so Fujigaya finds himself staring at the wall of mirrors as he flicks his hair into the best ponytail he can manage, watching Goseki mess with the stereo behind him. “Are we really doing this?” he asks, not really in complaint, as a familiar song starts playing. Real DX, and it feels like the past few years have never happened.
“Just dance, Taipi.”
He’s reluctant at the start, but Goseki slides closer, his sneakers squeaking in a familiar fashion, and Fujigaya finds himself easing along.
One song bleeds into another like heartbeats on a soundtrack, a sort of organic symphony created from imperfect muscle memory and hard work. Fujigaya tries to act indignant when Goseki makes him work through ‘Crush’ but Goseki just laughs, and he ends up doing it anyway. “We're not all Kawai, you know.”
“I know, you’re prettier,” Goseki says, patting him on the back. “We can do Fire Beat next.”
Dancing with Goseki is different than dancing with Kisumai. He’s sharper, both in attitude and movement, more willing to criticize and correct Fujigaya’s mistakes than Senga is, repeating the steps over and over with Fujigaya, and it’s like they’re dancing back into the past.
It used to always be like this, the both of them, the all of them. Fujigaya dances, closing his eyes for a moment to imagine that instead of two, there are twelve, and they’re all working in tandem, as if to prove the world wrong.
For a moment, he gets himself to believe it, nearly tripping over his feet when he opens his eyes and it’s just the two of them.
Goseki throws out a hand to steady him, still smiling, all the way to his eyes, like he really gets it. “Stay with me, Taipi.” Stay with me here and now.
Later on, when they’re taking a break (or maybe they’re done) Fujigaya tucks his head on Goseki’s lap, feeling his spine unwind along the wood floor. “That was kinda fun,” he admits finally, eyes closing because he knows Goseki’s smirking already.
“I thought you’d like it,” Goseki murmurs, fingers ruffling through Fujigaya’s bangs. “It’s been a while.”
It has been, and there’s a small ache in Fujigaya’s chest as he thinks about it. Their joint tour, Takizawa Kakumei, even Shounetachi feels like a lifetime ago, faded memories that he’s got wrapped around his finger as a reminder.
“I don’t want to wait for you guys anymore,” he says, but it doesn’t come out right and he quickly clarifies: “I mean… I don’t like waiting. I want to be on stage again, with all of us.”
This time Goseki’s smile is slow, in a reassuring fashion. “We’re catching up as fast as we can… wait for us, Taipi.”
Fujigaya’s never been a patient person, is infamous for being flighty and fickle, but as he meets Goseki’s eyes, his own smile mirroring the other’s, he knows this is something he can wait for.
Author: crazy_otaku911
Groups/Pairings: EbiKisu - Goseki/Fujigaya
Rating: PG
Summary: The rehearsal hall is hardly part of Fujigaya's ideal day off.
Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction.
Warnings: None (minus a single swear word)
A/N: 8| If there is tense fail, it is all omoikkiri's fault and the title is her fault too. Inspired by Fujigaya's latest Jweb (or the fact that EbiKisu is always all over each other. ♥) Yay cheese!
The ever familiar rehearsal hall is hardly Fujigaya’s idea of a day off - he spends enough time facing his reflection and its flaws as is - but he stifles a yawn and complaint, shooting his companion another questioning look. Goseki just shrugs, grinning as he drops his hat onto their small pile of personal possessions.
Days off are wonderfully relaxed and Fujigaya likes sleeping in when he can, but the day had greeted him with his mother tugging the covers off. You have a guest, Taisuke.
Stumbling out of bed, he finds Goseki eyeing him from the doorway. “Wh’th’fuck?” Fujigaya grumbles at him, fumbling to his phone to read the numbers. 8:30AM. “Gocchi, why am I awake?”
It’s a little strange, seeing Goseki standing there like that’s right where he belongs. Such a Goseki-type thing, yet Fujigaya can’t recall the last time the other man has just been there. Been around him.
Goseki laughs, doesn’t answer, and holds out a cup of still-steaming coffee. “Maybe I missed you~.”
Fujigaya grunts at him, only appeased when he takes a sip of coffee, letting his bleary irritation sigh out of him as the drink warms through his body. It’s nice knowing Goseki still knows how he likes his coffee. “What do you want?”
“You.”
And so Fujigaya finds himself staring at the wall of mirrors as he flicks his hair into the best ponytail he can manage, watching Goseki mess with the stereo behind him. “Are we really doing this?” he asks, not really in complaint, as a familiar song starts playing. Real DX, and it feels like the past few years have never happened.
“Just dance, Taipi.”
He’s reluctant at the start, but Goseki slides closer, his sneakers squeaking in a familiar fashion, and Fujigaya finds himself easing along.
One song bleeds into another like heartbeats on a soundtrack, a sort of organic symphony created from imperfect muscle memory and hard work. Fujigaya tries to act indignant when Goseki makes him work through ‘Crush’ but Goseki just laughs, and he ends up doing it anyway. “We're not all Kawai, you know.”
“I know, you’re prettier,” Goseki says, patting him on the back. “We can do Fire Beat next.”
Dancing with Goseki is different than dancing with Kisumai. He’s sharper, both in attitude and movement, more willing to criticize and correct Fujigaya’s mistakes than Senga is, repeating the steps over and over with Fujigaya, and it’s like they’re dancing back into the past.
It used to always be like this, the both of them, the all of them. Fujigaya dances, closing his eyes for a moment to imagine that instead of two, there are twelve, and they’re all working in tandem, as if to prove the world wrong.
For a moment, he gets himself to believe it, nearly tripping over his feet when he opens his eyes and it’s just the two of them.
Goseki throws out a hand to steady him, still smiling, all the way to his eyes, like he really gets it. “Stay with me, Taipi.” Stay with me here and now.
Later on, when they’re taking a break (or maybe they’re done) Fujigaya tucks his head on Goseki’s lap, feeling his spine unwind along the wood floor. “That was kinda fun,” he admits finally, eyes closing because he knows Goseki’s smirking already.
“I thought you’d like it,” Goseki murmurs, fingers ruffling through Fujigaya’s bangs. “It’s been a while.”
It has been, and there’s a small ache in Fujigaya’s chest as he thinks about it. Their joint tour, Takizawa Kakumei, even Shounetachi feels like a lifetime ago, faded memories that he’s got wrapped around his finger as a reminder.
“I don’t want to wait for you guys anymore,” he says, but it doesn’t come out right and he quickly clarifies: “I mean… I don’t like waiting. I want to be on stage again, with all of us.”
This time Goseki’s smile is slow, in a reassuring fashion. “We’re catching up as fast as we can… wait for us, Taipi.”
Fujigaya’s never been a patient person, is infamous for being flighty and fickle, but as he meets Goseki’s eyes, his own smile mirroring the other’s, he knows this is something he can wait for.