[One-shot] The games we could play
The games we could play
NYC - Yuma/Yamada
1000 words, PG
Yuma isn't sure if they're playing a game or not.
For tottchupi ♥♥♥
A game was what Chinen called it, but Yuma begged to differ. A game would imply tactics and strategy and Yuma had neither. Things just kept happening and he wasn’t quite sure why. The way his hand always found Yamada’s on stage, the way Yamada would look over and just smile at him. There was no reason for any of that to send Yuma’s heart racing and yet it did, leaving Yuma to chase futilely after it.
“Hey, you okay?” Yamada’s voice interrupted his thoughts and Yuma became intensely aware of how close Yamada was standing next to him. Yamada gave him an odd look, quickly leaning over to fix his headset, which had managed to slip off one of Yuma’s ears. “Yuuuuuma.”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, holding still until Yamada was finished and only relaxing when he took a step back, feeling light-headed all of a sudden. It was unfair, he decided, that Yamada had such a cute little nose.
On Yamada’s other side, Chinen sniggered and Yuma shot him a baleful glare.
It wasn’t a game, because if Yuma was going to play, he was going to be serious about it. And he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be serious about it or not. It was one of those things he filed in ‘wait until next year to figure out’ and tried his best to forget about.
But try as he might, it was impossible not to think about on New Year’s Eve. Even though they had Kouhaku, even though they also had Countdown, it was a buzz in the back of his mind and now it had risen to a constant roar because Yamada was right there. It made him hypersensitive, as if Yamada was his new center of gravity, inevitably drawing him in.
He tried to swallow his nerves, watching as Juniors pranced around him. They were the second act for Kouhaku and tension rippled through the air, thickening when the staff ushered them into place.
Yamada, Chinen, and Yuma all shared a glance. They were all a-skitter, but they were also ready. Yamada was still smiling as he crouched, waiting, and Yuma couldn’t help but notice how much he liked Yamada’s smile, the way it took on a tense edge when they began to sing but eventually eased into of relief and joy when they were finished.
It stuck with him as they raced into the van, piling in so they could get to Tokyo Dome for Countdown, laughing because the tension was still there and laughing more because it felt good. The night was super-charged and Yuma just let it zip through him, watched as it lit up Yamada’s face.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Yamada asked, head on Yuma’s shoulder. It made Yuma’s heart do strange, fluttering things that he associated with butterflies and was far too girly for his liking.
But he grinned like a fool anyway. “It was great,” he agreed quietly. Yamada smiled even wider before settling down to relax in the quick car ride, resting against Yuma. Yuma spent the whole car ride thinking it was unfair that he could still smell Yamada’s shampoo, despite the rigorous day.
He was too young to really be a part of Countdown, but in a way he enjoyed it. He didn’t usually get to be a part of the audience, to cheer as a spectator. Unable to help himself, he cheered extra loud when JUMP began singing Ultra Music Power. He was proud of them, which was an odd feeling, but damn if he cared anymore.
And then, just like planned, because these things were always planned, Yamada and Chinen were racing off the platform, straight towards him. And Yuma should probably have felt bad that he didn’t really notice Chinen, because Yamada was right there and it was nearly midnight and Yuma’s arm was around Yamada’s shoulder before he even realized what happened.
There were cameras and other people and everything else and Yuma couldn’t even really mouth the words to Yuuki 100% because he was laughing too hard, but nobody seemed to mind. It was burning elation, an adrenaline zip that hit him every time, even though he wasn’t really performing. And then the moment ended, everyone moving on with blazing lights and bass thrumming, but Yuma’s hand still felt warm from where he’d touched Yamada’s shoulder.
By the time Countdown was over, Yamada looked dead on his feet as he found Yuma again. “Hey,” he said, and though the smile was now tinged with tiredness, it was still beautiful to Yuma.
“Hey,” Yuma said, and realized this was a very lame first word for the new year. “I… well…”
“C’mon,” Yamada interrupted his stammering, holding out a hand.
Blinking in confusion, Yuma looked from the hand to Yamada’s face. “Where…?”
“I dunno,” Yamada shrugged, hand still out-stretched. “Somewhere? Anywhere? Does it really matter?” He paused to tilt his head, regarding Yuma curiously and Yuma felt his heart flutter again. “It’s a new year,” Yamada reminded him, as if they hadn’t just spent hours celebrating the event.
Yuma felt torn, staring at the outstretched hand and Yamada’s gentle smile, the offer hanging in the space between them.
He wondered if Yamada was playing the game all along, almost too afraid to take the other’s hand. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to lose but he also wasn’t sure what he had to lose either. For a moment, time seemed to freeze, leaving Yuma with his heart racing away from him all over again.
Maybe they’d both been playing, taking the tiny risks - all those touches, the smiles, the whispers - in hopes to win in the end. Yuma didn’t know what Yamada wanted to win.
But for Yuma the prize had always been Yamada.
Slowly he reached out to twine their fingers together and the butterflies and the midnight magic seemed to fade away, leaving him with his heart beating safely in Yamada’s palm.
“Let’s go then.”
NYC - Yuma/Yamada
1000 words, PG
Yuma isn't sure if they're playing a game or not.
For tottchupi ♥♥♥
A game was what Chinen called it, but Yuma begged to differ. A game would imply tactics and strategy and Yuma had neither. Things just kept happening and he wasn’t quite sure why. The way his hand always found Yamada’s on stage, the way Yamada would look over and just smile at him. There was no reason for any of that to send Yuma’s heart racing and yet it did, leaving Yuma to chase futilely after it.
“Hey, you okay?” Yamada’s voice interrupted his thoughts and Yuma became intensely aware of how close Yamada was standing next to him. Yamada gave him an odd look, quickly leaning over to fix his headset, which had managed to slip off one of Yuma’s ears. “Yuuuuuma.”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled, holding still until Yamada was finished and only relaxing when he took a step back, feeling light-headed all of a sudden. It was unfair, he decided, that Yamada had such a cute little nose.
On Yamada’s other side, Chinen sniggered and Yuma shot him a baleful glare.
It wasn’t a game, because if Yuma was going to play, he was going to be serious about it. And he wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be serious about it or not. It was one of those things he filed in ‘wait until next year to figure out’ and tried his best to forget about.
But try as he might, it was impossible not to think about on New Year’s Eve. Even though they had Kouhaku, even though they also had Countdown, it was a buzz in the back of his mind and now it had risen to a constant roar because Yamada was right there. It made him hypersensitive, as if Yamada was his new center of gravity, inevitably drawing him in.
He tried to swallow his nerves, watching as Juniors pranced around him. They were the second act for Kouhaku and tension rippled through the air, thickening when the staff ushered them into place.
Yamada, Chinen, and Yuma all shared a glance. They were all a-skitter, but they were also ready. Yamada was still smiling as he crouched, waiting, and Yuma couldn’t help but notice how much he liked Yamada’s smile, the way it took on a tense edge when they began to sing but eventually eased into of relief and joy when they were finished.
It stuck with him as they raced into the van, piling in so they could get to Tokyo Dome for Countdown, laughing because the tension was still there and laughing more because it felt good. The night was super-charged and Yuma just let it zip through him, watched as it lit up Yamada’s face.
“That was fun, wasn’t it?” Yamada asked, head on Yuma’s shoulder. It made Yuma’s heart do strange, fluttering things that he associated with butterflies and was far too girly for his liking.
But he grinned like a fool anyway. “It was great,” he agreed quietly. Yamada smiled even wider before settling down to relax in the quick car ride, resting against Yuma. Yuma spent the whole car ride thinking it was unfair that he could still smell Yamada’s shampoo, despite the rigorous day.
He was too young to really be a part of Countdown, but in a way he enjoyed it. He didn’t usually get to be a part of the audience, to cheer as a spectator. Unable to help himself, he cheered extra loud when JUMP began singing Ultra Music Power. He was proud of them, which was an odd feeling, but damn if he cared anymore.
And then, just like planned, because these things were always planned, Yamada and Chinen were racing off the platform, straight towards him. And Yuma should probably have felt bad that he didn’t really notice Chinen, because Yamada was right there and it was nearly midnight and Yuma’s arm was around Yamada’s shoulder before he even realized what happened.
There were cameras and other people and everything else and Yuma couldn’t even really mouth the words to Yuuki 100% because he was laughing too hard, but nobody seemed to mind. It was burning elation, an adrenaline zip that hit him every time, even though he wasn’t really performing. And then the moment ended, everyone moving on with blazing lights and bass thrumming, but Yuma’s hand still felt warm from where he’d touched Yamada’s shoulder.
By the time Countdown was over, Yamada looked dead on his feet as he found Yuma again. “Hey,” he said, and though the smile was now tinged with tiredness, it was still beautiful to Yuma.
“Hey,” Yuma said, and realized this was a very lame first word for the new year. “I… well…”
“C’mon,” Yamada interrupted his stammering, holding out a hand.
Blinking in confusion, Yuma looked from the hand to Yamada’s face. “Where…?”
“I dunno,” Yamada shrugged, hand still out-stretched. “Somewhere? Anywhere? Does it really matter?” He paused to tilt his head, regarding Yuma curiously and Yuma felt his heart flutter again. “It’s a new year,” Yamada reminded him, as if they hadn’t just spent hours celebrating the event.
Yuma felt torn, staring at the outstretched hand and Yamada’s gentle smile, the offer hanging in the space between them.
He wondered if Yamada was playing the game all along, almost too afraid to take the other’s hand. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to lose but he also wasn’t sure what he had to lose either. For a moment, time seemed to freeze, leaving Yuma with his heart racing away from him all over again.
Maybe they’d both been playing, taking the tiny risks - all those touches, the smiles, the whispers - in hopes to win in the end. Yuma didn’t know what Yamada wanted to win.
But for Yuma the prize had always been Yamada.
Slowly he reached out to twine their fingers together and the butterflies and the midnight magic seemed to fade away, leaving him with his heart beating safely in Yamada’s palm.
“Let’s go then.”