[One-shot] Sands of Love; Hourglass of our Lives
Title: Sands of love; Hourglass of our lives
Pairing/Group: Tamamori/Fujigaya (Kis-My-Ft2)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Minor language.
Summary: Tamamori believes in magic and finds something special in Fujigaya.
Notes: For je_ficgames 2012 run! I was on Team Present, writing for prompt #7 'I can see fairies'. So this happened :|b (Actually, before this, there was an attempt at mental vampirism, but I decided that is for another year.) I feel strangely proud that there is not a single reference to Tinkerbell or horrendously sparkly costumes 8Db
Ah, and since Team Present won... 8D/
Tamamori believed in magic.
Tamamori knew that first kisses were special, that broken mirrors gave you bad luck, that treasure waited for you at the end of the rainbow and walking under ladders was bad, and that Fujigaya’s laughter was the most enchanting thing he had ever heard.
~
Tamamori first noticed it when Kis-My-Ft2 was first formed.
Tamamori knew who Fujigaya was before Kisumai was formed, since he was well liked by many of Tamamori’s peers and Senga was inordinately fond of him. But knowing who Fujigaya was and knowing who Fujigaya was were entirely different things.
Fujigaya confused Tamamori, honestly. Though he was one of the older ones and not afraid to use rank when it suited him, Fujigaya was also like a child, fooling around with Kawai or Senga whenever given the chance. He was exuberant and enthusiastic, but also surprisingly sweet and caring. But with that, he was imperious, in a bratty, bossy fashion.
Simply put, Fujigaya was a torrent of vibrant emotion, whirlwind spinning and sucking in anyone nearby. Tamamori found it best to just stay out from underfoot. It was better to just stick to the background, observe until he found his feet, and appreciate Fujigaya from a distance.
"Noooooo," Fujigaya groaned, hands wrapped around Nikaido's to keep him steady. "You can't do it like that, you'll just get all wobbly and fall over again." He'd been saying the same thing for the past several minutes, trying to get Nikaido skate a turn just so. It wasn't going well. Nikaido had fallen twice already and the last time he'd taken Fujigaya down with him. Tamamori had tried his best not to smile as they had toppled over into a pile of tangled limbs and bruises. It wasn't like he was faring that much better in rehearsals, but still.
"It doesn't make sense like that!" Nikaido exclaimed crossly. He had even less patience than Fujigaya, and it had already worn out fifteen minutes ago. But with a Shounen Club filming only days away, he needed the practice. It was just unfortunate that Fujigaya was the better skater than either Iida or Kitayama.
"Ugh, this is going to take forever," Fujigaya said five minutes later, flopping down onto the ground next to Tamamori. After a moment of expectant silence, Tamamori realized that Fujigaya had been speaking to him.
"What?"
A brow was raised in his direction, but Fujigaya refrained from saying anything like 'hey, you're kinda weird'. Instead, he nodded back to Nikaido. "The move. He's not getting it."
"Oh." Of course that was what he'd been talking about. Tamamori frowned to mirror Fujigaya, glancing at Nikaido and back. Nikaido was like the rest of them, still growing into his body and not quite ready to fill it out yet. Though not as gangly and awkward as Tamamori was in frame, it was obvious he couldn't get his limbs under control yet.
"You know, your hair looks really soft," he said instead, and quickly colored red with embarrassment. It wasn't like he'd meant to just blurt it out, but it had just occurred to him that it did look soft. Like a cat's fur, which made Tamamori want to run his fingers through it. He didn't try though. The description was apt, and if Fujigaya's hair was like that of a cat's, Tamamori also knew that Fujigaya could bite and scratch.
Fujigaya looked startled for a second, eyes widening in surprise, before he burst out laughing. It was high and obnoxious and loud, like Fujigaya knew best how to be, but it was so happy that Tamamori couldn't help but giggle along, half-flustered. "Thank you," Fujigaya told him, and though he was still laughing, he sounded most sincere. It struck Tamamori that Fujigaya wasn’t actually laughing at him, but it was just his general high spirits and merriment leaking out and fizzing in the air around them.
He grinned, realizing that it was the first time Fujigaya had actually laughed with him. It felt good.
~
The truer dark sides of Fujigaya didn't come into play until years later - or maybe it was just that Tamamori was too young to notice them before. It was more than Fujigaya lashing out; it was the edge and the venom of his words, the tension in his body that wouldn't ease for hours.
The first time Tamamori noticed, it was startling and almost... scary. Suddenly Fujigaya was transformed, no longer what he had been before, and Tamamori wondered if that was how it would be from now on, like a new path to forge because Fujigaya was different. Like a fractured image of what he’d been before.
"Back off," Kitayama snarled, bodily shoving himself between Fujigaya and Miyata. "Now. You’re just making it worse, knock it off."
"Why should I?" Fujigaya spat back. He was worked up now, having been left unchecked for too long to back down on his own accord.
"Knock it off," Kitayama repeated. Tamamori curled himself up in a corner, Nikaido jittering by his side while they all pretended this wasn't happening at all. Would they come to blows, Tamamori wondered. He hoped it wouldn't, but it honestly wouldn't be the first time.
"You know what? This isn't even your damn business." Fujigaya's lip curled in disgust. "But fine. Have your little group of pathetic losers. See what good it does you. Because where will it get you? Fucking nowhere."
He turned and stomped out of the dressing room, all spitfire and fury, slamming the door behind him.
The words lingered in the air, heavy and hurtful. Kitayama knew how to shrug those words away, but Tamamori could see Miyata's expression all pale and withdrawn, even as his own heart clenched painfully. And this was Fujigaya's way of wounding Kitayama, knowing that if he wounded the rest, then Kitayama would give in to the helplessness of it all.
It ached, Tamamori's heart, and he honestly didn't understand it, didn't know if he wanted to understand it, but a detached part of his mind congratulated Fujigaya for all his unholy accomplishments. He knew how to stab where it would hurt the most, how to turn words around and strike where they were defenseless. Tamamori almost hated him for it.
And yet…
And yet he knew he couldn’t.
And yet another part of him, the part of him that was hurting, knew that Fujigaya would return. Maybe not that day or the day after, but sooner than later. And he'd be soft and gentle and apologetic, because he didn't really mean it, even though they all knew a part of him did. And Kitayama would narrow his eyes, as if suspicious, but accept him all the same, just as the rest of them would - as Tamamori would - because they wanted to.
Because it was Fujigaya.
~
"Kiss me," Fujigaya said abruptly and it took a minute for Tamamori to realize he was being spoken to.
"What?" he asked.
They were sitting in the backyard behind Senga's place, beers in hand, and the night wrapped around them. And Tamamori knew his face must look stupid, but he couldn't help it.
"Oh please," Fujigaya said, rolling his eyes as he glanced over at him. "You're not that drunk. Kiss me."
It was a bad idea (they were both drunk, they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, and this was Fujigaya) but what struck Tamamori the most was that this command was more of a question, really. If Fujigaya had wanted to take that kiss, he would have. Tamamori had been with Fujigaya too long, had seen it happen too many times, and yet…
What a funny thing, to be asked like this and to be the one asked. Yokoo would have indulged Fujigaya in a heartbeat, without any hesitation (and Yokoo was that drunk already), and yet Fujigaya had stayed out here, with him.
It was a really bad idea.
He should say no, knows he can say no (because Fujigaya was right, he wasn’t really that drunk), and that he should say no because it was such a bad idea. There were really good reasons to say no. It was completely unprofessional, irresponsible, they had finally reached a level of friendship that was more than good, it was a really bad idea.
Tamamori couldn’t help but notice how soft Fujigaya’s hair was as it tumbled down into his eyes and how his mouth looked perfect when crooking into that half-smile, knowing this wasn’t the first time he’s wondered what it’d be like.
Fujigaya leaned in, tempting in the half-shadows and night air. Tamamori felt himself falter, his resolve nearly breaking. How he wanted to just lean forward, to answer Fujigaya’s question, but he steeled himself against the warmth of Fujigaya’s eyes, the curve of his hopeful smile.
“Not like this,” he said finally, reaching out to trace a fingertip over the fullness of Fujigaya’s lower lip before pulling back, shaking his head as if to dispel the moonlight from his veins.
Fujigaya was very obviously disappointed, but he didn’t pull away like Tamamori expected him to. He just leaned back a bit, regarding Tamamori in confusion. Tamamori didn’t know what else to say, but he wanted Fujigaya to know how much he wanted to give in, to let go, even though he couldn’t like this. He reached out, hesitantly, to take one of Fujigaya’s hands in his own.
He expected Fujigaya to pull away, but he didn’t. In the shadows, alone together, there was a promise and a comfortable companionship in the silence. For Tamamori, it was a moment worth having.
~
The darkness within Fuigaya deepened and he became unpredictable, easier to set off. Tamamori looked at him some days and wondered what was possibly haunting Fujigaya's soul. It seemed to torment Fujigaya as much as Fujigaya would others, leaving Tamamori with a bad taste in his mouth and a feeling of overwhelming hopelessness.
When Tamamori could actually count the hours and then the days when Fujigaya didn't even smile, the knot of worry in his stomach cemented. He wouldn't admit it, especially not to Senga, but it scared him when Fujigaya pulled so far away. Tamamori was just... Tamamori. Who was he to reach out and pull Fujigaya away from his escapes.
Even though they hadn’t talked about it, Tamamori knew that Fujigaya was slowly falling prey to his own fears. Flying too high, too close to the sun, and Fujigaya was afraid his wings were going to melt.
“You’re not alone, you know,” Yokoo had said once, blunt but not unkindly.
But Fujigaya continued to withdraw into himself, building walls and burning bridges, though his eyes would soften in regret when he thought no one was looking.
But the damage was still done. Miyata instinctively stuck to Tamamori or Kitayama’s side, and Nikaido and Senga were more often found in A.B.C-Z’s dressing room. Their own space became quieter, almost eerily so.
"I don't know," Tamamori said, grimacing at Senga's question. "He hasn't really talked to me about it since the fall." Stupid streamers, stupid skates. To fall off the stage during their second headlining tour had to be bad luck, but his skates had gone out from under him and there had been nothing he could do about it. He knew the fall had struck hard on Fujigaya. Kitayama had pulled him aside after the fact, explaining that Fujigaya had tried to reach out, but it had been too late.
"I just..." Senga glanced at where Fujigaya was burrowed on the couch, hood up and phone in hand. "It's been like this for a while, I guess, but I never noticed before and now he's just... It's almost like he's not really here anymore."
Tamamori's lips twisted in another grimace. He knew how Senga felt, all too well. Even though Fujigaya was right there, even if he'd look up if Tamamori called his name out, he felt like he was unreachable, more than a world away.
As if sensing their stares, Fujigaya glanced up with a quirked eyebrow. As their gazes met, Fujigaya smiled at Tamamori. It was just a lift of the corners of his mouth, but even that made Tamamori's heart clench, this time with hope.
He knew he couldn't force his way in because Fujigaya would clam up and push him away if he tried. Tamamori normally wouldn’t care, but this time… this time he wasn’t sure if that was a line to be crossed. But I’m here, he wanted to say, but he hoped that Fujigaya already knew that.
He hoped, wished even, that Fujigaya would come back again, and sooner rather than later.
~
When sooner slowly became later, Tamamori decided that he was done just waiting. He was the laid back one, but he was fed up now and something had to be done.
“Look-“ he began, catching Fujigaya out behind the main building, cigarette in hand. “I don’t know why you won’t just talk to me. I’ve always been here for you, Gaya, it’s not… it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
Fujigaya watched him for a moment, taking a drag and narrowing his eyes at Tamamori as he exhaled slowly. “Why? So you can act like some matyr because you put up with me?”
Tamamori’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say anything-“
“Fuck off, Tama,” Fujigaya snapped. “It’s break time. You know, that time I can actually act like a fucking normal human being?”
It hurt, just like it always hurt, but Tamamori found that beyond the sting, there was resolve and determination, something he drew upon as he leaned over Fujigaya, crowding into his space and ignoring Fujigaya’s attempts to evade him.
“I don’t know why you’ve gotten it into your head that you need to fly solo,” he told Fujigaya, quietly. “But I’ll be here waiting when you’re done playing with storm clouds.”
And with the red lights and sirens going off in his head, he leaned over to kiss Fujigaya.
There was one tense moment when Fujigaya was stiff against him and Tamamori was sure, so sure, that he was going to be pushed away and hurt again, and then Fujigaya was kissing him back, cigarette falling to the ground, forgotten.
Fujigaya's mouth and the kiss they shared were much like Fujigaya himself, soft and sweet but hard and needing a breath later. Fujigaya drew Tamamori closer, in for another kiss and then another.
Each kiss felt like a small message, one that Tamamori still understood even as Fujigaya's lips proved to be a distraction. But it all fell into place and it made him gasp against soft lips, uncertainty quickly replaced by a surge of confidence as Tamamori pressed Fujigaya up against the wall, unwilling to share this sort of moment with anyone else, because he knew that this was what Fujigaya had wanted all that time ago, and he marveled that Fujigaya had chosen to let this vulnerability materialize to Tamamori of all people.
But the soft give of flesh, the way Fujigaya instantly surrendered, mouth sweet against his own, Tamamori knew that Fujigaya wanted, for once, to not fight for something, to not have to force his way into something, to push or to pull.
Fujigaya wanted to be wanted.
Fujigaya wanted Tamamori to chase him.
And chase him he would.
~
Fujigaya was nothing short of exhausting and Tamamori knew his own limits well enough to wonder how long this could possibly last for the both of them. Fujigaya was flighty, Tamamori was erratic.
But who was he to try and quantify or qualify his feelings.
“I’m glad it happened like this,” Fujigaya whispered one night. They were curled against each other on his bed, wanting the comfort of each other’s presence more than anything. “With you, I mean.” It was all sweetness and apologies wrapped up together.
Smiling, Tamamori nodded, his thoughts easing into those of happiness. It was good like this. Not perfect, but nothing was ever perfect. There was no use dwelling on it, not when he’d just end up walking in circles.
“I’m glad it did too,” he said, as hand sought out hand and their fingers twined together. He was drawn to Fujigaya, tied to him in a knotted tangle. But it was comforting to know that Fujigaya was knee-deep in this with him.
“Your hair is really soft,” he added with a quirk of a smile. “I think I need your conditioner.”
Fujigaya burst out laughing, nearly rolling himself off the bed if not for Tamamori’s arm around his waist. “Man, you are so weird,” Fujigaya told him, but there was such affection in his voice as he said it.
“I know,” Tamamori said, pleased with himself as Fujigaya tried to smother his laughter.
~
Tamamori knew that first kisses were special, that broken mirrors gave you bad luck, that treasure waited for him at the end of the rainbow and walking under ladders was bad, and that Fujigaya’s laughter was the most enchanting thing he had ever heard.
Tamamori believed in magic.
Pairing/Group: Tamamori/Fujigaya (Kis-My-Ft2)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Minor language.
Summary: Tamamori believes in magic and finds something special in Fujigaya.
Notes: For je_ficgames 2012 run! I was on Team Present, writing for prompt #7 'I can see fairies'. So this happened :|b (Actually, before this, there was an attempt at mental vampirism, but I decided that is for another year.) I feel strangely proud that there is not a single reference to Tinkerbell or horrendously sparkly costumes 8Db
Ah, and since Team Present won... 8D/
Tamamori believed in magic.
Tamamori knew that first kisses were special, that broken mirrors gave you bad luck, that treasure waited for you at the end of the rainbow and walking under ladders was bad, and that Fujigaya’s laughter was the most enchanting thing he had ever heard.
~
Tamamori first noticed it when Kis-My-Ft2 was first formed.
Tamamori knew who Fujigaya was before Kisumai was formed, since he was well liked by many of Tamamori’s peers and Senga was inordinately fond of him. But knowing who Fujigaya was and knowing who Fujigaya was were entirely different things.
Fujigaya confused Tamamori, honestly. Though he was one of the older ones and not afraid to use rank when it suited him, Fujigaya was also like a child, fooling around with Kawai or Senga whenever given the chance. He was exuberant and enthusiastic, but also surprisingly sweet and caring. But with that, he was imperious, in a bratty, bossy fashion.
Simply put, Fujigaya was a torrent of vibrant emotion, whirlwind spinning and sucking in anyone nearby. Tamamori found it best to just stay out from underfoot. It was better to just stick to the background, observe until he found his feet, and appreciate Fujigaya from a distance.
"Noooooo," Fujigaya groaned, hands wrapped around Nikaido's to keep him steady. "You can't do it like that, you'll just get all wobbly and fall over again." He'd been saying the same thing for the past several minutes, trying to get Nikaido skate a turn just so. It wasn't going well. Nikaido had fallen twice already and the last time he'd taken Fujigaya down with him. Tamamori had tried his best not to smile as they had toppled over into a pile of tangled limbs and bruises. It wasn't like he was faring that much better in rehearsals, but still.
"It doesn't make sense like that!" Nikaido exclaimed crossly. He had even less patience than Fujigaya, and it had already worn out fifteen minutes ago. But with a Shounen Club filming only days away, he needed the practice. It was just unfortunate that Fujigaya was the better skater than either Iida or Kitayama.
"Ugh, this is going to take forever," Fujigaya said five minutes later, flopping down onto the ground next to Tamamori. After a moment of expectant silence, Tamamori realized that Fujigaya had been speaking to him.
"What?"
A brow was raised in his direction, but Fujigaya refrained from saying anything like 'hey, you're kinda weird'. Instead, he nodded back to Nikaido. "The move. He's not getting it."
"Oh." Of course that was what he'd been talking about. Tamamori frowned to mirror Fujigaya, glancing at Nikaido and back. Nikaido was like the rest of them, still growing into his body and not quite ready to fill it out yet. Though not as gangly and awkward as Tamamori was in frame, it was obvious he couldn't get his limbs under control yet.
"You know, your hair looks really soft," he said instead, and quickly colored red with embarrassment. It wasn't like he'd meant to just blurt it out, but it had just occurred to him that it did look soft. Like a cat's fur, which made Tamamori want to run his fingers through it. He didn't try though. The description was apt, and if Fujigaya's hair was like that of a cat's, Tamamori also knew that Fujigaya could bite and scratch.
Fujigaya looked startled for a second, eyes widening in surprise, before he burst out laughing. It was high and obnoxious and loud, like Fujigaya knew best how to be, but it was so happy that Tamamori couldn't help but giggle along, half-flustered. "Thank you," Fujigaya told him, and though he was still laughing, he sounded most sincere. It struck Tamamori that Fujigaya wasn’t actually laughing at him, but it was just his general high spirits and merriment leaking out and fizzing in the air around them.
He grinned, realizing that it was the first time Fujigaya had actually laughed with him. It felt good.
~
The truer dark sides of Fujigaya didn't come into play until years later - or maybe it was just that Tamamori was too young to notice them before. It was more than Fujigaya lashing out; it was the edge and the venom of his words, the tension in his body that wouldn't ease for hours.
The first time Tamamori noticed, it was startling and almost... scary. Suddenly Fujigaya was transformed, no longer what he had been before, and Tamamori wondered if that was how it would be from now on, like a new path to forge because Fujigaya was different. Like a fractured image of what he’d been before.
"Back off," Kitayama snarled, bodily shoving himself between Fujigaya and Miyata. "Now. You’re just making it worse, knock it off."
"Why should I?" Fujigaya spat back. He was worked up now, having been left unchecked for too long to back down on his own accord.
"Knock it off," Kitayama repeated. Tamamori curled himself up in a corner, Nikaido jittering by his side while they all pretended this wasn't happening at all. Would they come to blows, Tamamori wondered. He hoped it wouldn't, but it honestly wouldn't be the first time.
"You know what? This isn't even your damn business." Fujigaya's lip curled in disgust. "But fine. Have your little group of pathetic losers. See what good it does you. Because where will it get you? Fucking nowhere."
He turned and stomped out of the dressing room, all spitfire and fury, slamming the door behind him.
The words lingered in the air, heavy and hurtful. Kitayama knew how to shrug those words away, but Tamamori could see Miyata's expression all pale and withdrawn, even as his own heart clenched painfully. And this was Fujigaya's way of wounding Kitayama, knowing that if he wounded the rest, then Kitayama would give in to the helplessness of it all.
It ached, Tamamori's heart, and he honestly didn't understand it, didn't know if he wanted to understand it, but a detached part of his mind congratulated Fujigaya for all his unholy accomplishments. He knew how to stab where it would hurt the most, how to turn words around and strike where they were defenseless. Tamamori almost hated him for it.
And yet…
And yet he knew he couldn’t.
And yet another part of him, the part of him that was hurting, knew that Fujigaya would return. Maybe not that day or the day after, but sooner than later. And he'd be soft and gentle and apologetic, because he didn't really mean it, even though they all knew a part of him did. And Kitayama would narrow his eyes, as if suspicious, but accept him all the same, just as the rest of them would - as Tamamori would - because they wanted to.
Because it was Fujigaya.
~
"Kiss me," Fujigaya said abruptly and it took a minute for Tamamori to realize he was being spoken to.
"What?" he asked.
They were sitting in the backyard behind Senga's place, beers in hand, and the night wrapped around them. And Tamamori knew his face must look stupid, but he couldn't help it.
"Oh please," Fujigaya said, rolling his eyes as he glanced over at him. "You're not that drunk. Kiss me."
It was a bad idea (they were both drunk, they weren’t exactly in the most private of places, and this was Fujigaya) but what struck Tamamori the most was that this command was more of a question, really. If Fujigaya had wanted to take that kiss, he would have. Tamamori had been with Fujigaya too long, had seen it happen too many times, and yet…
What a funny thing, to be asked like this and to be the one asked. Yokoo would have indulged Fujigaya in a heartbeat, without any hesitation (and Yokoo was that drunk already), and yet Fujigaya had stayed out here, with him.
It was a really bad idea.
He should say no, knows he can say no (because Fujigaya was right, he wasn’t really that drunk), and that he should say no because it was such a bad idea. There were really good reasons to say no. It was completely unprofessional, irresponsible, they had finally reached a level of friendship that was more than good, it was a really bad idea.
Tamamori couldn’t help but notice how soft Fujigaya’s hair was as it tumbled down into his eyes and how his mouth looked perfect when crooking into that half-smile, knowing this wasn’t the first time he’s wondered what it’d be like.
Fujigaya leaned in, tempting in the half-shadows and night air. Tamamori felt himself falter, his resolve nearly breaking. How he wanted to just lean forward, to answer Fujigaya’s question, but he steeled himself against the warmth of Fujigaya’s eyes, the curve of his hopeful smile.
“Not like this,” he said finally, reaching out to trace a fingertip over the fullness of Fujigaya’s lower lip before pulling back, shaking his head as if to dispel the moonlight from his veins.
Fujigaya was very obviously disappointed, but he didn’t pull away like Tamamori expected him to. He just leaned back a bit, regarding Tamamori in confusion. Tamamori didn’t know what else to say, but he wanted Fujigaya to know how much he wanted to give in, to let go, even though he couldn’t like this. He reached out, hesitantly, to take one of Fujigaya’s hands in his own.
He expected Fujigaya to pull away, but he didn’t. In the shadows, alone together, there was a promise and a comfortable companionship in the silence. For Tamamori, it was a moment worth having.
~
The darkness within Fuigaya deepened and he became unpredictable, easier to set off. Tamamori looked at him some days and wondered what was possibly haunting Fujigaya's soul. It seemed to torment Fujigaya as much as Fujigaya would others, leaving Tamamori with a bad taste in his mouth and a feeling of overwhelming hopelessness.
When Tamamori could actually count the hours and then the days when Fujigaya didn't even smile, the knot of worry in his stomach cemented. He wouldn't admit it, especially not to Senga, but it scared him when Fujigaya pulled so far away. Tamamori was just... Tamamori. Who was he to reach out and pull Fujigaya away from his escapes.
Even though they hadn’t talked about it, Tamamori knew that Fujigaya was slowly falling prey to his own fears. Flying too high, too close to the sun, and Fujigaya was afraid his wings were going to melt.
“You’re not alone, you know,” Yokoo had said once, blunt but not unkindly.
But Fujigaya continued to withdraw into himself, building walls and burning bridges, though his eyes would soften in regret when he thought no one was looking.
But the damage was still done. Miyata instinctively stuck to Tamamori or Kitayama’s side, and Nikaido and Senga were more often found in A.B.C-Z’s dressing room. Their own space became quieter, almost eerily so.
"I don't know," Tamamori said, grimacing at Senga's question. "He hasn't really talked to me about it since the fall." Stupid streamers, stupid skates. To fall off the stage during their second headlining tour had to be bad luck, but his skates had gone out from under him and there had been nothing he could do about it. He knew the fall had struck hard on Fujigaya. Kitayama had pulled him aside after the fact, explaining that Fujigaya had tried to reach out, but it had been too late.
"I just..." Senga glanced at where Fujigaya was burrowed on the couch, hood up and phone in hand. "It's been like this for a while, I guess, but I never noticed before and now he's just... It's almost like he's not really here anymore."
Tamamori's lips twisted in another grimace. He knew how Senga felt, all too well. Even though Fujigaya was right there, even if he'd look up if Tamamori called his name out, he felt like he was unreachable, more than a world away.
As if sensing their stares, Fujigaya glanced up with a quirked eyebrow. As their gazes met, Fujigaya smiled at Tamamori. It was just a lift of the corners of his mouth, but even that made Tamamori's heart clench, this time with hope.
He knew he couldn't force his way in because Fujigaya would clam up and push him away if he tried. Tamamori normally wouldn’t care, but this time… this time he wasn’t sure if that was a line to be crossed. But I’m here, he wanted to say, but he hoped that Fujigaya already knew that.
He hoped, wished even, that Fujigaya would come back again, and sooner rather than later.
~
When sooner slowly became later, Tamamori decided that he was done just waiting. He was the laid back one, but he was fed up now and something had to be done.
“Look-“ he began, catching Fujigaya out behind the main building, cigarette in hand. “I don’t know why you won’t just talk to me. I’ve always been here for you, Gaya, it’s not… it’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
Fujigaya watched him for a moment, taking a drag and narrowing his eyes at Tamamori as he exhaled slowly. “Why? So you can act like some matyr because you put up with me?”
Tamamori’s eyes widened. “I didn’t say anything-“
“Fuck off, Tama,” Fujigaya snapped. “It’s break time. You know, that time I can actually act like a fucking normal human being?”
It hurt, just like it always hurt, but Tamamori found that beyond the sting, there was resolve and determination, something he drew upon as he leaned over Fujigaya, crowding into his space and ignoring Fujigaya’s attempts to evade him.
“I don’t know why you’ve gotten it into your head that you need to fly solo,” he told Fujigaya, quietly. “But I’ll be here waiting when you’re done playing with storm clouds.”
And with the red lights and sirens going off in his head, he leaned over to kiss Fujigaya.
There was one tense moment when Fujigaya was stiff against him and Tamamori was sure, so sure, that he was going to be pushed away and hurt again, and then Fujigaya was kissing him back, cigarette falling to the ground, forgotten.
Fujigaya's mouth and the kiss they shared were much like Fujigaya himself, soft and sweet but hard and needing a breath later. Fujigaya drew Tamamori closer, in for another kiss and then another.
Each kiss felt like a small message, one that Tamamori still understood even as Fujigaya's lips proved to be a distraction. But it all fell into place and it made him gasp against soft lips, uncertainty quickly replaced by a surge of confidence as Tamamori pressed Fujigaya up against the wall, unwilling to share this sort of moment with anyone else, because he knew that this was what Fujigaya had wanted all that time ago, and he marveled that Fujigaya had chosen to let this vulnerability materialize to Tamamori of all people.
But the soft give of flesh, the way Fujigaya instantly surrendered, mouth sweet against his own, Tamamori knew that Fujigaya wanted, for once, to not fight for something, to not have to force his way into something, to push or to pull.
Fujigaya wanted to be wanted.
Fujigaya wanted Tamamori to chase him.
And chase him he would.
~
Fujigaya was nothing short of exhausting and Tamamori knew his own limits well enough to wonder how long this could possibly last for the both of them. Fujigaya was flighty, Tamamori was erratic.
But who was he to try and quantify or qualify his feelings.
“I’m glad it happened like this,” Fujigaya whispered one night. They were curled against each other on his bed, wanting the comfort of each other’s presence more than anything. “With you, I mean.” It was all sweetness and apologies wrapped up together.
Smiling, Tamamori nodded, his thoughts easing into those of happiness. It was good like this. Not perfect, but nothing was ever perfect. There was no use dwelling on it, not when he’d just end up walking in circles.
“I’m glad it did too,” he said, as hand sought out hand and their fingers twined together. He was drawn to Fujigaya, tied to him in a knotted tangle. But it was comforting to know that Fujigaya was knee-deep in this with him.
“Your hair is really soft,” he added with a quirk of a smile. “I think I need your conditioner.”
Fujigaya burst out laughing, nearly rolling himself off the bed if not for Tamamori’s arm around his waist. “Man, you are so weird,” Fujigaya told him, but there was such affection in his voice as he said it.
“I know,” Tamamori said, pleased with himself as Fujigaya tried to smother his laughter.
~
Tamamori knew that first kisses were special, that broken mirrors gave you bad luck, that treasure waited for him at the end of the rainbow and walking under ladders was bad, and that Fujigaya’s laughter was the most enchanting thing he had ever heard.
Tamamori believed in magic.