ooh lalala~ lalala
Title: Like An Open Book
Pairing: NaKame
WordCount: 2.9K
Rating: G
A/N: This fic was inspired from the following: "When asked if you were reborn, would you like to be a man or a woman Kame's answer is that he'd want to be a man again. And go to university, do something different to what he's doing now." - DIME, 2012
please let me know if you spot any errors m(_ _)m
ETA: A Vietnamese translation by hanizawa_yuuki can be found here. ♥
Summary: Nakamaru welcomes Kame into a glimpse of his life.
Nakamaru flips another page of his textbook and tries to drown out the sounds of gunshots and buttons. The new version of Metal Gear Solid was released earlier this week and Taguchi's mad shouts managed to pique even Ueda's interest, the two of them now screaming threats at the game console. Nakamaru plants his elbows onto the table, head in his hands, in an effort barracade himself and not give into the temptation of joining along.
"I need to graduate," he mumbles to himself.
"Why?"
Nakamaru glances up to see Kame seat himself on the opposite end.
"What do you mean why?" He drops his arms flat onto the table, his fortress of concentration now fallen. His walls are always weaker around Kame for a reason he doesn't like to linger on.
Kame pokes at his textbook, fingering the glossy page of upside down text and not meeting his eyes.
"But you have us. KAT-TUN. You don't need a degree."
There's something off. Those words should come with a glare, a petualant scowl or puppy-eyed look, but Kame's eyes remain fixated on deciphering the words Nakmaru has been trying to imprint into his memory for the past half hour.
"I need to graduate," Nakamaru repeats. "When you go to university, it's just something you have to do."
"Do you like it?"
Nakamaru wishes Kame would speak louder since he knows Taguchi and Ueda aren't about to quiet down any time soon. He doesn't know where Koki is but is glad there's one less person to add to the frenzy. Nakamaru cranes forward until his chest is pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the table.
Kame repeats his question and it takes Nakamaru a couple seconds of silent thinking before he replies with an honest answer.
"It's tough, juggling everything at the same time but... I like it. It's something I've always wanted."
Kame bobs his head slightly, hair stiff with hairspray and unmoving. There's a husky laugh.
"Yucchi's so smart."
Nakamaru smiles. "You laugh everytime you say that."
"Sorry." There's another snicker.
Nakamaru returns his focus to the page but it's a fruitless effort with Kame so close and his perfume tickling at Nakamaru's nose. Ueda is laughing in that manic way he does whenever he witnesses someone's misfortune and shortly after, Taguchi releases a wail of defeat. It's earsplitting and if Koki were here, there would be kicks and table flipping abound, but even through all the noise and the baby steps of an approaching migraine, Nakamaru hears it.
"I wish I knew what it was like."
Nakamaru doesn't know how because the words arrive at his ears like a wistful secret, a light tap of knuckles against the door, but he hears them.
"I'll take you."
And Kame's head lifts at last, eyes wide and far, far closer than he had expected. So close that Nakamaru can make out his face reflected back at him. He can feel the table's edge leaving a bruise across his chest.
"Die!" Taguchi's scream cuts between them and Kame moves back with a small smile.
"Okay."
-
Nakamaru is combing his hair in the bathroom when the doorbell rings. His eyes flicker to the clock and he smiles; right on time. When he swings open the door to welcome Kame inside, his smile flickers.
"What are you wearing?" he asks, half amused and half aghast.
Kame looks down at himself before glancing back up with an uncertain shrug. "Isn't this what university students wear?"
Nakamaru wonders if he should be offended at that, but it's not as if Kame doesn't look good. He looks good - too good - for someone who rolled out of an otaku comic and decided to roleplay a preppy tennis club member. His bangs hang on either sides of his face, divided neatly by a center part, and the ends brush against his thick black frames. He's wearing slim khakis and a sweater hangs over the shoulders of his pastel pink polo shirt.
Nakamaru tries not to laugh. At least this is better than Kame showing up in his vintage jeans and sunglasses. At least he didn't bring along his Winnie the Pooh bag.
"I saw it in a magazine," Kame says with a frown. "You just don't understand fashion."
"Looking like that, I'm not sure I want to," Nakamaru returns and walks to his bedroom, signalling Kame to follow.
Kame's wider than he his, shorter too but with well built shoulders and muscles that he often likes to show off (not that he minds, not that any of them do; they'll take anything after Nobuta), but Nakamaru has always prefered loose clothing. He rummages in his closet for something that would fit and meet Kame's taste while Kame complains at his back, whining that they'll be late for his first lecture. Nakamaru grins at how childishly excited he sounds.
"Here, wear this. And take that sweater off too," Nakamaru orders, handing Kame a simple blue collared shirt and a white blazer. They probably cost a penny compared to Kame's outfit, but Nakamaru has always believed fashion was stupid like that. "Keep the glasses though. They'll help you blend in."
When Kame starts unbuttoning his polo, Nakamaru takes it as his cue to leave the room, his stomach doing a funny swoop.
He has just enough time to finish his coffee when Kame returns, smoothing the sleeves of Nakamaru's blazer and smiling charmingly. "It's a bit tight around the shoulders, but it fits. Thanks."
"Sure," Nakamaru says with a small dip of his head and looks away, heading to the door. "After you."
Kame's arm brushes against him as he passes through and Nakamaru pauses as he catches a smell. The scent of sweet vanilla is still there but it's overpowered by fabric softener and Nakamaru's own quiet cologne. He trails after Kame, chasing after the smell and willing his heart to stop skipping.
-
They arrive late and it's fortunate. All eary morning lectures now having started, the campus is empty save for a few students rushing by to get to class and the bodyguards that hover around them, dressed incognito just a few meters away. They're a constant whenever Nakamaru has to step foot on campus - which isn't often since online classes are much easier to schedule - even though Nakamaru has a knack for blending in unnoticed. He can't say the same for Kame though.
It's a warm day even if the early hours are cool and Nakamaru slows his pace, giving Kame a brief tour. Kame's eyes jump everywhere, curious and thrilled, reading the annoucement posters one second and peering through windows to see students huddled over their textbooks the next.
Nakamaru doesn't understand the fascination but he can't help but smile. This isn't like Dramatic Game. This is new. For once, he's the one in his element, walking on solid ground and taking the lead, showing Kame a new world, his world. Kame follows his every step without hesitation, looking every bit the eager freshman.
By the time they arrive at the building that houses Nakamaru's ecology lecture, dawn has faded into morning and the sun warms the campus and makes Kame's joy shine golden.
-
Professor Morimoto, while being one of the university's oldest professors, is also one of the most enthusiastic and thus happens to be Nakamaru's favourite. Sometimes he'll get caught up in the topic and fly off on a tangent, babbling terminology and statistics that no one understands, but it prevents the lecture from becoming dull.
The lecture theatre is spacious with rows of connecting seats that climb diagonally and seat about two hundred students. As usual, Nakamaru takes the seat high up at the back, near the exit so that he can be the first to leave and not attract any unwanted attention.
Kame sits beside him, quiet and watching Professor Morimoto scribble on the white board with intrigue. His forehead is furrowed, his chin on his raised fist, and Nakamaru recalls wearing the same look when Kame tried to explain the mechanics of baseball.
He pulls out a notebook and a ballpoint pen from his bag and begins to jot down notes. Normally he would bring his laptop to lectures like most of the students, but it seemed a waste to bring it today; they're only attending one lecture because Kame has filming afterwards and it's quite a drive away. It's probably for the better, too, because even with their attempts at being inconspicuous, Nakamaru notices how frequently heads are snapping back to look, hears the spread of whispers whenever Professor Morimoto has his back turned.
Nakamaru ignores the attention and ducks his head over his notes, trying not to let it spoil their day. Kame wanted to be a normal university student, if only for a few hours, and Nakamaru had promised. He wasn't about to break it.
He's absorbed in the lecture, his hands scribbling to write the difference between habitat degredation and habitat fragmentation, when his senses prickle and he glances up to see Kame watching him, leaning on the desk with his hand propping his head.
Nakamaru lifts his brows to ask what? and Kame shakes his head with a tiny, secret smile.
Nothing.
Nakamaru looks at him steadily for a moment before he hears Professor Morimoto jump to another topic and he scrambles to catch up on his note taking. It's a futile effort, however, because he can still feel Kame's gaze on him, a soft wave of concentration that flows through the air and washes against the shores of his awareness.
Nakamaru's hand stills and he looks up once more.
"What?" he whsipers self-consciously and tilts his head down to the platform where Professor Morimoto stands, where Kame's eyes should be focused. "I thought you wanted to hear the lecture."
"I'm listening with my ears," Kame returns quietly, a smirk playing with his lips. "I can afford to let my eyes wander to more interesting things."
The rest of the notes Nakamaru takes are haphazard and slanted, a scribbled mess that he won't be able to read afterwards when it comes time to study.
(Later, the only thing he'll be able to remember is the sound of the squeaking chair beside him as Kame's body shook in silent laughter when Nakamaru dropped his pen, his concentration completely shot.)
-
They leave the lecture theatre ten minutes early to avoid the rush, winding through the corridors and stepping into sunlight and fresh air. It's before noon but the campus is in full swing, students arriving early and loitering until their classes begin.
Nakamaru huddles closer to Kame as they walk and ignores his inquisitive look. Their bodyguards are still around but it only takes a single fan with a high pitched voice and a snap of a cellphone camera for things to fall away into chaos. Shielding Kame with his own camouflage should help.
He leads Kame to a secluded area, away from the parking lot and courtyard to a fence of trees and flowers where they wait for the drivers to bring around the cars. A gust of wind blows by, strong and directionless, and Kame releases a frustrated whine as it throws his hair into complete disarray.
Without thinking, Nakamaru reaches out and slides his fingers into Kame's hair, the strands soft and silky and yet to be stiffened by hairspray. They flow between his fingers like water as Nakamaru sets his hair in order, the wind now dying down, taking with it the noise.
The strands now moved away from his face, Kame peers up at him and Nakamaru's hands freeze, still buried in his hair. A small hand moves up to wrap warm fingers around his left wrist.
"Thanks," Kame says and wets the corner of his lips. His eyes remain fixed to Nakamaru's and Nakamaru has to force himself to pull away, Kame's fingers loosening their grip and his hands returning to his sides. He looks around awkwardly, making sure no one saw - not that there was anything to see; just Nakamaru being impulsive and stupid and letting his heart get the better of him - but they're surrounded by blossoming flowers of pink and yellow and red.
"So... how was it?" Nakamaru says when he finally manages to find his tongue. "I told you it would be boring."
He catches Kame shaking his head from the corner of his eye because he can't manage to look at him head on right now. Not when Kame's wearing Nakamaru's clothes and scent like its his own, looking happy and thankful with wind-tousled hair.
"It was great! I feel like I can stroll along this campus forever and I've never sat in a lecture before," Kame explains. "It's different. Different from what I thought it would be."
When Kame falls silent, Nakamaru looks to see him absorbed in his thoughts and catches a fleeting frown.
"How did you think it would be?"
"I don't know," Kame laughs and it sounds too hollow for this sunny day. "I dropped out of highschool."
"Homework and exams aren't for everyone," Nakamaru assures quickly. Some were better at it than others and the ones that fell away, well, they found their own calling. "And you don't need a degree to be an idol, right? That's lucky. You don't have to attend boring lectures."
"It's not like I could understand anything even if I did." Kame's grin is sour at the edges in a way that makes Nakamaru's chest clench. "You're smart, Yucchi. You know things."
Unlike me.
"You know things too," Nakamaru returns swiftly and it's true. No one can look at Kame and call him stupid without risking sounding stupid themself. Kame knows things that they don't write in textbooks and to Nakamaru, that only makes his knowledge more precious, not less valuable.
Kame doesn't know calculus but knows how to read people, knows how to wheedle into their hearts and earn their respect. He doesn't know the laws of chemistry but he knows what is expected of him and knows how to maneuvre in the entertainment world, knows how to surpass expectations to get to the top.
There's no formula to it. Nakamaru can read every page of every book on every shelf in every library and he won't find it. Kame knows how to make fans go crazy with every movement of his body, he knows how to tug out affection so seamlessly that Nakamaru didn't even realise until it was--
"You know how to steal hearts."
--too late.
There's another gust of wind but it's weak and more of a gentle breeze. The leaves rustle around them and a single yellow petal floats down and lands on the rim of Kame's glasses. Nakamaru moves in with the intention to flick it away but somehow - and he doesn't know how because there's no formula, no logic, no textbook to tell him how or why because only Kame knows - he ends up pressing his lips to Kame's.
It's a kiss.
And that's something they both know.
"I guess this is what they call a campus romance," Kame says numbly once Nakamaru has pulled away. Kame looks stunned and there's a slight thrill in seeing him like that, completely caught off guard. It's only slight though because all Nakamaru can feel right now is a queasy horror. Everything stings. The sunlight, the flowers and their cheery colours, the sounds of distant laughter. All of it.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--please forget it," he stutters out and if Kame's cheeks are tinged with a faint blush then he doesn't want to imagine what his own face looks like.
Fingers weave into his hair and a sudden shiver runs up his spine. He watches Kame's hand pull away with a fallen leaf, returning the gesture he never completed. Their eyes lock and Kame's face is blank and tight, not as cold as it is when he's angry, but there are emotions shifting underneath that he's trying to close off.
Something inside Nakamaru plummets and the warmth of the air feels suffocating.
"I'm not smart like you, Yucchi, but I'm not that stupid, either."
Nakamaru doesn't know how to respond to that but he's saved by the arrival of their drivers.
"Thanks for today. I won't forget it," Kame says pointedly before he slips inside a black convertable and is whisked away.
-
Nakamaru is less than halfway into his drive when he caves and pulls out his phone.
I meant it.
-
Hours pass by, the day slipping into afternoon into evening into night.
Kame has nothing to say back and Nakamaru tries to ignore his heartbreak as he slides into bed. He wonders if Kame's still wearing his clothes. He'll probably get someone to drop them off tomorrow, dry cleaned and ironed so that there's no hint of vanilla for Nakamaru to tuck away inside his closet.
-
Do you think Shuuji went to university?
At seven in the morning, Kame's text makes no sense to him at all but he can feel his heart bursting over breakfast.
-
I think Shuuji can do whatever he sets his mind to
-
→ since I stole it, I'll keep your heart safe
-
I know.
-
Yucchi's smart
I guess I can trust you with mine too
Nakamaru is tilting his head in question when another message arrives with a beep, just seconds after:
-
Nakamaru hides his jaw-breaking smile behind his phone.
Right now, he doesn't feel smart at all. He feels like a fool in love.
end.
Pairing: NaKame
WordCount: 2.9K
Rating: G
A/N: This fic was inspired from the following: "When asked if you were reborn, would you like to be a man or a woman Kame's answer is that he'd want to be a man again. And go to university, do something different to what he's doing now." - DIME, 2012
please let me know if you spot any errors m(_ _)m
ETA: A Vietnamese translation by hanizawa_yuuki can be found here. ♥
Summary: Nakamaru welcomes Kame into a glimpse of his life.
Nakamaru flips another page of his textbook and tries to drown out the sounds of gunshots and buttons. The new version of Metal Gear Solid was released earlier this week and Taguchi's mad shouts managed to pique even Ueda's interest, the two of them now screaming threats at the game console. Nakamaru plants his elbows onto the table, head in his hands, in an effort barracade himself and not give into the temptation of joining along.
"I need to graduate," he mumbles to himself.
"Why?"
Nakamaru glances up to see Kame seat himself on the opposite end.
"What do you mean why?" He drops his arms flat onto the table, his fortress of concentration now fallen. His walls are always weaker around Kame for a reason he doesn't like to linger on.
Kame pokes at his textbook, fingering the glossy page of upside down text and not meeting his eyes.
"But you have us. KAT-TUN. You don't need a degree."
There's something off. Those words should come with a glare, a petualant scowl or puppy-eyed look, but Kame's eyes remain fixated on deciphering the words Nakmaru has been trying to imprint into his memory for the past half hour.
"I need to graduate," Nakamaru repeats. "When you go to university, it's just something you have to do."
"Do you like it?"
Nakamaru wishes Kame would speak louder since he knows Taguchi and Ueda aren't about to quiet down any time soon. He doesn't know where Koki is but is glad there's one less person to add to the frenzy. Nakamaru cranes forward until his chest is pressed uncomfortably against the edge of the table.
Kame repeats his question and it takes Nakamaru a couple seconds of silent thinking before he replies with an honest answer.
"It's tough, juggling everything at the same time but... I like it. It's something I've always wanted."
Kame bobs his head slightly, hair stiff with hairspray and unmoving. There's a husky laugh.
"Yucchi's so smart."
Nakamaru smiles. "You laugh everytime you say that."
"Sorry." There's another snicker.
Nakamaru returns his focus to the page but it's a fruitless effort with Kame so close and his perfume tickling at Nakamaru's nose. Ueda is laughing in that manic way he does whenever he witnesses someone's misfortune and shortly after, Taguchi releases a wail of defeat. It's earsplitting and if Koki were here, there would be kicks and table flipping abound, but even through all the noise and the baby steps of an approaching migraine, Nakamaru hears it.
"I wish I knew what it was like."
Nakamaru doesn't know how because the words arrive at his ears like a wistful secret, a light tap of knuckles against the door, but he hears them.
"I'll take you."
And Kame's head lifts at last, eyes wide and far, far closer than he had expected. So close that Nakamaru can make out his face reflected back at him. He can feel the table's edge leaving a bruise across his chest.
"Die!" Taguchi's scream cuts between them and Kame moves back with a small smile.
"Okay."
-
Nakamaru is combing his hair in the bathroom when the doorbell rings. His eyes flicker to the clock and he smiles; right on time. When he swings open the door to welcome Kame inside, his smile flickers.
"What are you wearing?" he asks, half amused and half aghast.
Kame looks down at himself before glancing back up with an uncertain shrug. "Isn't this what university students wear?"
Nakamaru wonders if he should be offended at that, but it's not as if Kame doesn't look good. He looks good - too good - for someone who rolled out of an otaku comic and decided to roleplay a preppy tennis club member. His bangs hang on either sides of his face, divided neatly by a center part, and the ends brush against his thick black frames. He's wearing slim khakis and a sweater hangs over the shoulders of his pastel pink polo shirt.
Nakamaru tries not to laugh. At least this is better than Kame showing up in his vintage jeans and sunglasses. At least he didn't bring along his Winnie the Pooh bag.
"I saw it in a magazine," Kame says with a frown. "You just don't understand fashion."
"Looking like that, I'm not sure I want to," Nakamaru returns and walks to his bedroom, signalling Kame to follow.
Kame's wider than he his, shorter too but with well built shoulders and muscles that he often likes to show off (not that he minds, not that any of them do; they'll take anything after Nobuta), but Nakamaru has always prefered loose clothing. He rummages in his closet for something that would fit and meet Kame's taste while Kame complains at his back, whining that they'll be late for his first lecture. Nakamaru grins at how childishly excited he sounds.
"Here, wear this. And take that sweater off too," Nakamaru orders, handing Kame a simple blue collared shirt and a white blazer. They probably cost a penny compared to Kame's outfit, but Nakamaru has always believed fashion was stupid like that. "Keep the glasses though. They'll help you blend in."
When Kame starts unbuttoning his polo, Nakamaru takes it as his cue to leave the room, his stomach doing a funny swoop.
He has just enough time to finish his coffee when Kame returns, smoothing the sleeves of Nakamaru's blazer and smiling charmingly. "It's a bit tight around the shoulders, but it fits. Thanks."
"Sure," Nakamaru says with a small dip of his head and looks away, heading to the door. "After you."
Kame's arm brushes against him as he passes through and Nakamaru pauses as he catches a smell. The scent of sweet vanilla is still there but it's overpowered by fabric softener and Nakamaru's own quiet cologne. He trails after Kame, chasing after the smell and willing his heart to stop skipping.
-
They arrive late and it's fortunate. All eary morning lectures now having started, the campus is empty save for a few students rushing by to get to class and the bodyguards that hover around them, dressed incognito just a few meters away. They're a constant whenever Nakamaru has to step foot on campus - which isn't often since online classes are much easier to schedule - even though Nakamaru has a knack for blending in unnoticed. He can't say the same for Kame though.
It's a warm day even if the early hours are cool and Nakamaru slows his pace, giving Kame a brief tour. Kame's eyes jump everywhere, curious and thrilled, reading the annoucement posters one second and peering through windows to see students huddled over their textbooks the next.
Nakamaru doesn't understand the fascination but he can't help but smile. This isn't like Dramatic Game. This is new. For once, he's the one in his element, walking on solid ground and taking the lead, showing Kame a new world, his world. Kame follows his every step without hesitation, looking every bit the eager freshman.
By the time they arrive at the building that houses Nakamaru's ecology lecture, dawn has faded into morning and the sun warms the campus and makes Kame's joy shine golden.
-
Professor Morimoto, while being one of the university's oldest professors, is also one of the most enthusiastic and thus happens to be Nakamaru's favourite. Sometimes he'll get caught up in the topic and fly off on a tangent, babbling terminology and statistics that no one understands, but it prevents the lecture from becoming dull.
The lecture theatre is spacious with rows of connecting seats that climb diagonally and seat about two hundred students. As usual, Nakamaru takes the seat high up at the back, near the exit so that he can be the first to leave and not attract any unwanted attention.
Kame sits beside him, quiet and watching Professor Morimoto scribble on the white board with intrigue. His forehead is furrowed, his chin on his raised fist, and Nakamaru recalls wearing the same look when Kame tried to explain the mechanics of baseball.
He pulls out a notebook and a ballpoint pen from his bag and begins to jot down notes. Normally he would bring his laptop to lectures like most of the students, but it seemed a waste to bring it today; they're only attending one lecture because Kame has filming afterwards and it's quite a drive away. It's probably for the better, too, because even with their attempts at being inconspicuous, Nakamaru notices how frequently heads are snapping back to look, hears the spread of whispers whenever Professor Morimoto has his back turned.
Nakamaru ignores the attention and ducks his head over his notes, trying not to let it spoil their day. Kame wanted to be a normal university student, if only for a few hours, and Nakamaru had promised. He wasn't about to break it.
He's absorbed in the lecture, his hands scribbling to write the difference between habitat degredation and habitat fragmentation, when his senses prickle and he glances up to see Kame watching him, leaning on the desk with his hand propping his head.
Nakamaru lifts his brows to ask what? and Kame shakes his head with a tiny, secret smile.
Nothing.
Nakamaru looks at him steadily for a moment before he hears Professor Morimoto jump to another topic and he scrambles to catch up on his note taking. It's a futile effort, however, because he can still feel Kame's gaze on him, a soft wave of concentration that flows through the air and washes against the shores of his awareness.
Nakamaru's hand stills and he looks up once more.
"What?" he whsipers self-consciously and tilts his head down to the platform where Professor Morimoto stands, where Kame's eyes should be focused. "I thought you wanted to hear the lecture."
"I'm listening with my ears," Kame returns quietly, a smirk playing with his lips. "I can afford to let my eyes wander to more interesting things."
The rest of the notes Nakamaru takes are haphazard and slanted, a scribbled mess that he won't be able to read afterwards when it comes time to study.
(Later, the only thing he'll be able to remember is the sound of the squeaking chair beside him as Kame's body shook in silent laughter when Nakamaru dropped his pen, his concentration completely shot.)
-
They leave the lecture theatre ten minutes early to avoid the rush, winding through the corridors and stepping into sunlight and fresh air. It's before noon but the campus is in full swing, students arriving early and loitering until their classes begin.
Nakamaru huddles closer to Kame as they walk and ignores his inquisitive look. Their bodyguards are still around but it only takes a single fan with a high pitched voice and a snap of a cellphone camera for things to fall away into chaos. Shielding Kame with his own camouflage should help.
He leads Kame to a secluded area, away from the parking lot and courtyard to a fence of trees and flowers where they wait for the drivers to bring around the cars. A gust of wind blows by, strong and directionless, and Kame releases a frustrated whine as it throws his hair into complete disarray.
Without thinking, Nakamaru reaches out and slides his fingers into Kame's hair, the strands soft and silky and yet to be stiffened by hairspray. They flow between his fingers like water as Nakamaru sets his hair in order, the wind now dying down, taking with it the noise.
The strands now moved away from his face, Kame peers up at him and Nakamaru's hands freeze, still buried in his hair. A small hand moves up to wrap warm fingers around his left wrist.
"Thanks," Kame says and wets the corner of his lips. His eyes remain fixed to Nakamaru's and Nakamaru has to force himself to pull away, Kame's fingers loosening their grip and his hands returning to his sides. He looks around awkwardly, making sure no one saw - not that there was anything to see; just Nakamaru being impulsive and stupid and letting his heart get the better of him - but they're surrounded by blossoming flowers of pink and yellow and red.
"So... how was it?" Nakamaru says when he finally manages to find his tongue. "I told you it would be boring."
He catches Kame shaking his head from the corner of his eye because he can't manage to look at him head on right now. Not when Kame's wearing Nakamaru's clothes and scent like its his own, looking happy and thankful with wind-tousled hair.
"It was great! I feel like I can stroll along this campus forever and I've never sat in a lecture before," Kame explains. "It's different. Different from what I thought it would be."
When Kame falls silent, Nakamaru looks to see him absorbed in his thoughts and catches a fleeting frown.
"How did you think it would be?"
"I don't know," Kame laughs and it sounds too hollow for this sunny day. "I dropped out of highschool."
"Homework and exams aren't for everyone," Nakamaru assures quickly. Some were better at it than others and the ones that fell away, well, they found their own calling. "And you don't need a degree to be an idol, right? That's lucky. You don't have to attend boring lectures."
"It's not like I could understand anything even if I did." Kame's grin is sour at the edges in a way that makes Nakamaru's chest clench. "You're smart, Yucchi. You know things."
Unlike me.
"You know things too," Nakamaru returns swiftly and it's true. No one can look at Kame and call him stupid without risking sounding stupid themself. Kame knows things that they don't write in textbooks and to Nakamaru, that only makes his knowledge more precious, not less valuable.
Kame doesn't know calculus but knows how to read people, knows how to wheedle into their hearts and earn their respect. He doesn't know the laws of chemistry but he knows what is expected of him and knows how to maneuvre in the entertainment world, knows how to surpass expectations to get to the top.
There's no formula to it. Nakamaru can read every page of every book on every shelf in every library and he won't find it. Kame knows how to make fans go crazy with every movement of his body, he knows how to tug out affection so seamlessly that Nakamaru didn't even realise until it was--
"You know how to steal hearts."
--too late.
There's another gust of wind but it's weak and more of a gentle breeze. The leaves rustle around them and a single yellow petal floats down and lands on the rim of Kame's glasses. Nakamaru moves in with the intention to flick it away but somehow - and he doesn't know how because there's no formula, no logic, no textbook to tell him how or why because only Kame knows - he ends up pressing his lips to Kame's.
It's a kiss.
And that's something they both know.
"I guess this is what they call a campus romance," Kame says numbly once Nakamaru has pulled away. Kame looks stunned and there's a slight thrill in seeing him like that, completely caught off guard. It's only slight though because all Nakamaru can feel right now is a queasy horror. Everything stings. The sunlight, the flowers and their cheery colours, the sounds of distant laughter. All of it.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--please forget it," he stutters out and if Kame's cheeks are tinged with a faint blush then he doesn't want to imagine what his own face looks like.
Fingers weave into his hair and a sudden shiver runs up his spine. He watches Kame's hand pull away with a fallen leaf, returning the gesture he never completed. Their eyes lock and Kame's face is blank and tight, not as cold as it is when he's angry, but there are emotions shifting underneath that he's trying to close off.
Something inside Nakamaru plummets and the warmth of the air feels suffocating.
"I'm not smart like you, Yucchi, but I'm not that stupid, either."
Nakamaru doesn't know how to respond to that but he's saved by the arrival of their drivers.
"Thanks for today. I won't forget it," Kame says pointedly before he slips inside a black convertable and is whisked away.
-
Nakamaru is less than halfway into his drive when he caves and pulls out his phone.
I meant it.
-
Hours pass by, the day slipping into afternoon into evening into night.
Kame has nothing to say back and Nakamaru tries to ignore his heartbreak as he slides into bed. He wonders if Kame's still wearing his clothes. He'll probably get someone to drop them off tomorrow, dry cleaned and ironed so that there's no hint of vanilla for Nakamaru to tuck away inside his closet.
-
Do you think Shuuji went to university?
At seven in the morning, Kame's text makes no sense to him at all but he can feel his heart bursting over breakfast.
-
I think Shuuji can do whatever he sets his mind to
-
→ since I stole it, I'll keep your heart safe
-
I know.
-
Yucchi's smart
I guess I can trust you with mine too
Nakamaru is tilting his head in question when another message arrives with a beep, just seconds after:
-
Nakamaru hides his jaw-breaking smile behind his phone.
Right now, he doesn't feel smart at all. He feels like a fool in love.
end.