The Run Around for Chouta_Angel!
Title: The Run Around
Author: whisper132
Recipient: chouta_angel
Pairing/Characters: Shiraishi/Yukimura, a sprinkling of Jirou/Kirihara, Chitose, Jackal, Osamu
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This may induce "the feels." If you are uncomfortable with "the feels," please speak to your physician prior to interacting with "the feels."
Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff, the plot would be very different. Very. Different.
Summary: When a member of Japan's hottest idol group, The Run Around, meets a sassy nurse, the entertainment industry is turned on its head, and their lives will never be the same again.
Notes: I sat down to write an epic supernatural love story full of gothic overtones and possibly a few lines stolen from Anne Rice. This happened instead, and you may blame Yukimura.
PART 1: THE CHARITY GIG
Shiraishi's pants were too tight. He told Ana that he needed the pants in a size up if they wanted him to be able to do the choreography for the new song, but she told him a size up would pooch out and emphasize his lack of an ass. Unless he wanted to wear padded underwear to fill out the back and also risk possible fake ass scandal, he would have to wear the thigh crushing pants, suck it in, and hope the sparkly white denim didn't make a eunuch of him by the end of the gig.
He was doing this for the children, he reminded himself as he shifted in his seat in the hopes of regaining some feeling in his legs. He was also doing this for cash and because his mother signed his life away to the entertainment industry when he was seven years old. After fourteen years of show business, he felt he should be able to just retire and live out his days in a nice apartment in some mountain village somewhere, but his contract stipulated that Osamu Entertainment owned him until he turned forty or fell out of public favor to such an extent that he needed to be fired. And, if he were being honest, maybe Shiraishi liked the attention a bit too much to quit just yet.
"Why are we doing this in the morning? I want to go home." Jirou gave a big yawn and blinked into the company bus that was transporting them to whatever hospital it was they were going to. "Isn't it kinda cruel to make the sick kids get up this early? Let's reschedule." Despite his words, Jirou wasn't a bad guy; he was the first to champion the idea of this free concert/publicity event. He might have added a few caveats to his support had he known they were going to be holding the concert at 8am, but he would undoubtedly be giving his all for the kiddies when the time came.
Shiraishi reached over to pat Jirou on the knee. "I had to get up at 4am for that drama I did last year. Be thankful this isn't a sunrise concert or something."
"Was that the swimming drama?" Kirihara asked from his spot next to Jirou. "Or was that the one about the construction worker? Or the yakuza one?"
"It was the high school one."
Kirihara stared at the ceiling as he thought. "Which high school one was that?"
"The one about that creepy stalker chick and the haunted school." He couldn't blame them for not knowing; he'd been in four high school dramas in the last two years and, honestly, they were all pretty much the same story. At least it made his lines easy to remember.
"So I guess the guy who always gets up at 4 to do morning show segments doesn't get any love in this little pity party." Jackal blew them a kiss and turned his back to them, continuing to nap against the side of the bus.
Shiraishi thought about telling Jackal that his fanbase was full of kind, respectable girls who weren't trying to claw off his clothes whenever they saw him, but that would just piss Jackal off. Keeping Jackal happy was integral to the group; Jackal was the only one of them who had any vocal training or, if they were being fully honest, any vocal talent at all.
"Do you guys think it's weird that we're in our 20s and still playing high school kids on TV?" Chitose asked from the back of the bus. He was spread across all four rear seats, wrapped in a ratty-looking shawl thing he'd woven from some kind of fancy organic something or other.
"Nobody's complained so far, so I guess the fans don't really care." Shiraishi sure hoped the fans would clue in and let him play an age appropriate role for once. What he wouldn't give for a nice host club drama or a spy film.
The bus stopped. In a burst of speed, the slumped forms inside straightened. Jirou's eyes opened, wide and bright. Chitose shucked his shawl and slid on a sequined jacket. Jackal oiled up his bald head and did a quick vocal warmup. Kirihara checked his teeth to make sure there was no clinging seaweed from the convenience store onigiri he'd eaten on the way. Shiraishi tried, one last time, to wiggle some room into his impossibly tight pants.
Showtime for Osamu Entertainment's star band, The Run Around.
*****
Yukimura Seiichi was on hour 15 of his 18 hour shift. All he wanted in the world was a nap, but he was the lucky loser of the lottery to supervise the children during their meet and greet with some boyband that decided their hospital was the recipient of the yearly publicity pity visit. Yukimura tried to pawn off the work on all of his coworkers who actually wanted to watch the performance, but after he saw the hasty scrawlings on the break roster-all conveniently during the performance-he knew he was stuck monitoring vital signs to make sure the excessive pelvic sways of the choreography weren't too much for their young charges.
"I wonder if they're going to be dressed up," said Yuriko, a nurse who had gone off shift three hours ago but was loitering around in uniform for the sake of the concert. It would have been nice if she used that spare three hours to help Yukimura calm little Keita in D17 down from some night terrors, but Yuriko just sat in one of the chairs at the nurses' station and twirled around in a circle while Keita's screaming filled the ward.
"I hope not. I've always wanted to see Chitose in his street clothes. I bet the tabloids don't do them justice." Mari, first to schedule her conveniently timed break, gave Yuriko a hug around the shoulders. "I'm so glad I decided to become a nurse at this hospital!"
The two women devolved into giggles. Yukimura checked over some charts and grabbed the tray with the morning's first round of medication. "I'll be back." He gave the women his best smile because, as the only male nurse at the hospital, he needed the support of these women to keep him from accidentally doing physical harm to some of the more traditional doctors at the hospital who kept insisting nursing was a women's profession and Yukimura was a lazyass who couldn't make it in 'real' medical school. Closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale, Yukimura centered himself again for the task at hand.
"Uh, excuse me, but where are the kids with cancer and stuff?"
Great, the idiot train pulled in early. "Hello! Welcome to Kantou General Hospital. Please follow me and I'll take you to the space we've sectioned off for you to rest in before the performance. It's not much, but I hope it will meet your needs." Yukimura gripped his tray of medications tightly and prepared for the worst as he guided the members of Japan's hottest boyband to one of the back offices. "I'm afraid I'll have to finish my rounds, but I'll be back to assist you momentarily Mr…"
A blonde hip checked the tall, scraggly haired guy Yukimura was talking to. "Shiraishi. Feel free to call me Kuranosuke."
Yukimura gave the blonde a quick look over. Not bad, but those pants were going to destroy any hope the guy had of progeny. Probably for the best, really. "Please rest in here." Yukimura opened the office door and waved the men in. "Again, I apologize for the inconvenience and will be back in a moment."
"I'll be waiting right here for you." Shiraishi stepped to the side, letting his bandmates into the room. "Unless you want me to come with you. That tray looks awfully heavy."
"I'm fine, thank you." Yukimura bowed slightly and walked away as quickly as decorum would allow. As he distributed medication to the children, he hoped, if they lived to see adulthood, none of the kids ever turned out to be like the creepy guy in the too tight pants.
*****
"We're here to sing for some dying kids, not to hit on the nurses," Jackal told Shiraishi for the third time. The guy was a real nag.
Chitose used his massive wingspan to pull Jackal and Shiraishi into a group hug. "Now, now, I think we can sing for the dying kids and hit on the nurses at the same time. Why limit the experience?"
Jackal's eyes widened. "Why do people think you're a decent human being? How is it possible?"
Chitose grinned and squeezed both of his captives a little harder, bringing Shiraishi into the crook of his cedar-scented armpit. "Anything is possible if you set the right intentions."
He thought about telling Jackal not to fight a losing battle, but Shiraishi kind of enjoyed watching their stalwart bandmate flounder in the face of Chitose's unabashed ego.
"They're completely inappropriate intentions," Jackal said. "Maybe you could set an intention not to get us on the news for indecent behavior."
"Look, I know you're saving yourself for your true Brazilian love, but the rest of us need to get it where we can find it, and-"
"Sorry to interrupt," said a voice from the door that both lifted Shiraishi's heart and somehow turned his blood cold at the same time. "I've finished my rounds and was wondering if any of you gentlemen would care for tea before it's time to start."
Shiraishi broke free of Chitose's hold and walked up to the sparkling vision in yellow and black scrubs. "Let me help you."
"Give it a rest already," Jirou grumbled. He was sprawled across a low sofa with his head on Kirihara's lap. "The guy's obviously not interested. Let's just go play the set and let these people get on with their lives." After his outburst, Jirou went limp and started to snore softly.
The quiet little smile that flew across Yukimura's lips was pointed at Jirou and not Shiraishi, and for that their dance specialist would suffer on the bus ride back home. "I'll be back with the tea in a moment," Yukimura said, his voice giving nothing away. "Thank you for your patience."
When the gorgeous nurse was gone, Shiraishi rounded on his bandmates. "You guys are going to ruin this for me." He cast a quick look back to the door. Maybe he should just go out there and give chase. The nurse was just playing hard to get. Honestly, who could resist the fine package Shiraishi presented?
"You'll ruin it fine without our help," Kirihara snickered. If the kid weren't the nephew of the boss, Shiraishi would've left him stranded in Okinawa long, long ago.
"Shh," Jirou grumbled. "I'm trying to sleep."
Kirihara scratched his fingers through Jirou's hair and smiled. "Sorry."
Ugh, those two were disgusting. Shiraishi would never be so sappy. He wondered if Yukimura went in for that kind of fluffy, feel good crap. Nah, the guy seemed more a biter than a snuggler, which was all for the best because-
"Sorry for the delay," Yukimura said as he entered the office again, this time balancing a tray with a tea service. Shiraishi rushed to free him of his burden. "Thanks." The smile Yukimura gave was a lot prettier than the first one Shiraishi'd had directed at him. Maybe this one was the real thing.
"My pleasure." Shiraishi tried hard not to look like he was thinking about other pleasurable things they could do besides play Pass the Tea Tray. "Thanks for taking care of us."
The smile faded and in its place was a thin-lipped, neutral thing that Shiraishi had seen on many a nurse's face. They taught some weird stuff at nursing school. "Kantou General is very honored to have you. If we can offer our services to you at any time during your stay, please don't hesitate to ask. I have been authorized to extend a wide variety of medical benefits to you, including general wellness and STD treatment and prevention services."
"Hey," Chitose said, shoving Shiraishi out of the way, "about that STD stuff-"
*****
Baby, this racket is the beating of my heart
So far, Yukimura wasn't impressed. The music the band was dancing to was prerecorded, the dance moves were easily replicable by even the most rhythmically challenged member of the staff (Mana from cardiology), and only one member could actually carry a tune. The hospital might as well have videotaped last year's bonenkai and let the kids watch the pediatricians dance to Beyoncé.
Ooh ooh!
How the blonde with the bad pickup lines managed to get his leg to kick that high in such tight jeans was the most remarkable part of the whole performance-not that Yukimura was paying any special attention to the guy; it was just difficult not to notice that kind of thing when the lights reflected off the bedazzled denim so much.
"I don't get it," little Junichiro said as Yukimura gave the boy's fragile heart a brief listen with a stethoscope. "Why is this cool?"
Junichiro was a good kid. He probably wouldn't live past 16, but in the time he had left, he would no doubt shower the world with a good deal of wisdom via the blog he maintained. "I don't know," Yukimura answered truthfully. "People like strange things sometimes." He patted Junichiro on the head and went to check up on the next patient in line.
It's the sound of our clashing love-love time
Yukimura felt a pulling at his sleeve. "What does love-love time mean?" asked 4 year-old Yuuko.
The tall guy on stage shaking his hips at the cluster of squealing nurses just off stage was going to receive some very special STD test results in the mail next week. Perhaps the crippling panic and despair he felt until the actual results came in would teach him not to present their patients with bad examples of acceptable public behavior.
"It means a special time when two people sit together on a couch and hug," Yukimura said. He wasn't about to give some lameass excuse to the kid, but he also wasn't going to explain to Yuuko's mother why a weekend charity concert sanctioned by the hospital was the reason for her daughter's sudden epiphanies about human sexual behavior.
And I want it to last forever
The bald guy jumped down from their small, portable stage and took Sakura's hand. Sakura had just gone through a rough round of chemotherapy that cost her all of her hair. The smile on her face was the first Yukimura had seen in months.
No matter what the world tells us
Why was the blonde guy looking at him? He couldn't possibly…no. Absolutely not.
Yukimura tuned out the concert and focused on his clipboard. Once he was done checking vitals, he needed to get afternoon medications ready.
*****
"Just give it to me. You're not going to use it." Shiraishi lunged for Kirihara but was blocked by Jirou's foot to his chest.
"People are trying to sleep here," Jirou grumbled. "In case you've forgotten, we did three encores, which is two more encores than we were supposed to do." Jirou dug his heel into Shiraishi's sternum. "And I only had a granola bar for breakfast this morning. Are you honestly going to come over here, bugging us for some guy's work schedule, when I'm sleepy and malnourished?"
Shiraishi sat back into his seat and cleared his throat. In a voice he usually reserved for the more high tensioned call and response songs he began, "Since you're so interested in what I would like to do with that shift schedule, let me tell you. All of you. Everything."
"Give him the schedule!" Jackal yelled. "Do not make me listen to this."
"The first day, I'm going to surprise him with flowers halfway through his shift." Shiraishi could see it all in his mind as he spoke. "They're going to be wildflowers, but it'll be a big bouquet. A lower grade flower says that I'm not a crazy, clingy kind of guy, but the quantity shows that I'm into him." He knew just the florist to arrange it, too. It was the #17 bouquet down at the Marui Flower Shop. "After I drop off the flowers, I'll head out for a few hours then head back to the hospital to take him out to lunch."
"Two visits in one day? That's a neon sign for desperation, man." Chitose shook his head and reached over the back of Shiraishi's seat to clap him on the shoulder. "Either you've got it bad or you've got no game at all."
"Why are you encouraging this?" Jackal asked.
Jirou kicked out toward Shiraishi, but his legs were too short to reach. "I'm trying to sleep!"
Shiraishi held his hand out. "Schedule."
Kirihara held the list to his chest.
"For lunch we're going to go to a nice little French place a few blocks from the hospital. I looked it up on my phone while we were waiting for the crowds to clear. He looks like the kind of guy who goes for mostly vegetarian stuff, but he's got feisty eyes, so I'm betting he's probably a real carnivore." Shiraishi's vision lost focus as he recalled Yukimura's face. "I can see it now. We'll sit down and he'll order something rare but in a reasonable price range just in case I'm a flake and stick him with the bill."
"Well at least you're being honest in your delusions," Jackal sighed.
"I'll set some bills down under a placemat so he knows I'm not going to ditch him. That's when I'll slide my foot up his-"
"Take it!" Jirou grabbed the list from Kirihara and threw it at Shiraishi. "Just shut up and never talk to me again."
"Can he just finish with the lunch? It was getting kinda good." Chitose popped open a bottled water.
Jackal dove to the front of the bus and turned on the radio. "We are going to sit quietly and listen to classical music until we get to the studio." He pointed to Shiraishi. "No more story time. Jirou is trying to nap."
Chitose stuck his tongue out at Jackal before curling up in his seat and throwing his ratty shawl around himself.
"I'll tell you when we get back to the studio," Shiraishi promised. He ripped off the top portion of the schedule and handed it to Chitose. "You'll have more use of these than I will."
"You're the best."
"Yes, I am."
*****
Taking two weeks of vacation was the best thing Yukimura could've done for himself. Not only had he been able to get his balcony garden back under control (the tomatoes were threatening to invade Fukuyama-san's balcony), but the absolute quiet of his apartment served to reset his temperament after the chaos that stupid boyband left in their wake. Surely everything was back to normal by now. Surely the children were on to their next big obsession (except the ones who were fans of the band to begin with) and the staff would be back to focusing on the business of running the hospital and caring for their patients.
"Hey! Welcome back!"
Yukimura's legs froze up on him mid-stride and he nearly toppled.
Shiraishi walked out of the administrative island wearing scrubs. "I came around to ask you to lunch, but you were on vacation. After I saw how much work these wonderful ladies were putting in, I decided I would volunteer some time."
Why weren't his legs moving? Why couldn't he just run in the other direction and use another week of paid vacation? "It's very kind of you to give up your valuable time," Yukimura said because the blonde was looking at him as though he expected a reply.
"Your dedication moved me." Despite the lilting invitation in his words, Shiraishi remained a respectable distance away. Yukimura wasn't sure what to make of the gesture. Perhaps the guy actually did give a damn about the kids.
"I'm sure the children are happy you're here. They enjoyed your concert a great deal." His fellow nurses were also probably happy to have the superstar around, though maybe their hysteria had calmed down if they'd been seeing Shiraishi every day. Whatever. It wasn't Yukimura's problem. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get to work."
Shiraishi held up a clipboard. "I've got our schedule right here."
Nope. Yukimura's legs were still not going to move. "Our schedule?"
"I've gone on rounds with everyone else already." Shiraishi licked his lips and then gave a little bow. "I put myself in your hands."
******
"Stop moving."
"It hurts!"
"It won't hurt if you stop moving."
Shiraishi tried to hold as still as possible while Yukimura injected a numbing agent into his arm. "I can't believe the kid bit me. What the hell did I do to him, huh?"
"We'll stitch it up and it'll be good as new." This was the first time he'd managed to get the nurse to smile at him all day. Too bad he was too horrified by the giant gashes in his arm to really let it sink in.
"The kid hates me," Shiraishi concluded, replaying the last fifteen minutes over in his head. Little Sasuke had been an angel for the last two weeks, happily taking his medications and not letting the fact that both of his legs were broken weigh him down. Today, the cute kid with the broken legs grabbed Shiraishi's arm, pulled the arm to his mouth, and tore in with teeth that were too sharp to be human. And then the brat gnawed on him a bit, ripping off little hunks of flesh that he spit right in Shiraishi's face.
Yukimura frowned down at Shiraishi's arm while he stitched it up. "He doesn't hate you; he's just temperamental."
No, the kid hated him. There was a joyful gleam in his eye as he watched Shiraishi run to the sink to rinse the blood off his arm. And then, once Yukimura entered the room to see what all the screaming was about, the little rat was all smiles again. There was something mentally wrong with Sanada Sasuke.
"How long do you think this is going to take to heal? We've got summer touring coming up."
Yukimura didn't answer for a few moments, his focus on finishing out the last stitches. "That depends. Do you normally heal quickly?" Shiraishi shivered as Yukimura's eyes ran the full length of his body. "You look like you might be a bit underweight, too. If that's the case, then it'll take you longer to heal because your body doesn't have enough resources."
"Gotta fit into the concert pants, so gaining weight is kinda out of the picture. Besides, if I go up so much as half a kilogram, the tabloids would print some big 'Osamu Entertainment Star Goes on Buffet Binge!' story and the boss would kill me." Man, a buffet really sounded good.
Yukimura laughed, but his eyes weren't in it. "Must be tough."
Shiraishi shrugged. "It's what we signed up for." What his mother signed him up for, really, but the business model was solid and the benefits were good.
"You should talk to our nutritionist. She can recommend a meal plan for you that's got the proper nutrients and won't add weight." He looked Shiraishi up and down again. "A personal trainer could also suggest proper exercise to help you gain muscle to burn off any extra calories."
"Tell you what, let's talk about something else." The company had a nutritionist and a personal trainer, both of whom had told Shiraishi the same things for the last few years, and he had dutifully ignored them. Just because the advice was coming from a medically trained professional that Shiraishi was sweet on didn't change the fact that he didn't want to bother.
"While we're running your blood sample for tetanus and any infections, did you want us to check it for STDs as well?" Yukimura's teeth glinted as he smiled.
"Um…yes, please."
*****
"You could've told us you were friends with a member of The Run Around," Yuriko pouted when Seiichi came into work the next day. "And you could've told us he was going to be here all day." She sighed and threw herself into one of the desk chairs. "Oh, Kuranosuke, I'll always treasure our hour together." She held her clipboard to her chest. "The way you smiled, the way you handed out lollipops-I'll never forget you!"
"An hour? He didn't spend all day with you?" Yukimura shouldn't have been surprised. It figured the guy would want to run away from crazy fangirls.
"And all we did was talk about you the whole time." She scowled a moment and then a strange sparkle came to her eye. "Are you two-"
"There is no Venn diagram that would ever connect me and a guy like that." Just thinking about it gave Yukimura acid reflux. "When he comes back to get his stitches checked out, why don't you talk to him…like a normal human being." He gave her his best supportive smile (no teeth, just a slight tilt up at the corners of the mouth) and grabbed a stack of paperwork to take down to the lab.
"Hey, I heard you're friends with that guy from The Run Around. Think you can get me an autograph for the wife?" Inoue was a nice guy but not so bright. How he managed to convince someone to marry him was beyond Yukimura's comprehension. Ah well, it took all kinds to make a world, he supposed.
"I'm not friends with anyone famous," Yukimura said while handing off the paperwork. "Sorry to disappoint you. Maybe the event coordinator can put you in touch with the group's representatives." More and more, he was starting to be grateful that Sasuke took a chunk out of Shiraishi's arm. Gossip spread quickly at the hospital, and it would probably be days before everyone understood that Yukimura didn't know-
"Hey! Sorry I'm late for our shift. Took me a while to get this thing on to cover all the stitches." Shiriashi jogged up to join Yukimura and raised an arm wrapped in bandages.
"Inoue wants an autograph for his wife. After you're done with that, you can have Yuriko rewrap your arm so your circulation isn't cut off." Yukimura power walked to the elevators, but Shiraishi was by his side before the elevator came.
"You're mad at me."
All the deep breathing in the world wasn't going to make this lie come any easier. "Of course not. I'm just busy."
"I'll bet. The other nurses really depend on you a lot. I couldn't get as much time in the last two weeks to volunteer because of some photo shoots, but every time I was here, they were always talking about how you'd know where things were or how to do things if you were here." Shiraishi elbowed Yukimura lightly in the side. "This place would probably collapse if you took too much time off. Still, they said you hadn't been on vacation since you were hired a year ago. That can't be healthy."
"Bills don't pay themselves." The elevator came and Yukimura hurried inside, glad for the somber silence of the crowd within.
*****
"You wouldn't know it to look at him, but he was such a sickly thing when he was younger." Matsumoto, one of the lab techs, was a wealth of information. He was the oldest member of staff, and he knew everything about everyone. "He spent the better part of the year in the hospital fighting that disease. Bet that's why he became a nurse. They always did manage to get him to smile, even on the bad days." Crinkled eyes looked up toward the ceiling. "And there were plenty of those."
It would be inappropriate to ask what the disease was or if that was the reason Yukimura was such a sourpuss. Still, it gave Shiraishi an important insight into the battle ahead of him. "Thanks for the talk. I should get back upstairs." He waved goodbye to the old man and jogged to the elevators. This was his last week volunteering at the hospital before the band started their dome tour training. If he didn't make his move now, the chance might never come again. Their manager had been quite clear that Shiraishi wasn't to return to volunteering after tour season was over. The company passed up on two commercial slots because of Shiraishi, and they wouldn't 'humor his hobbies' after this week.
"There you are! Yukimura had some personal errands to run, so he said you should go around with Karin until he gets in." Yuriko handed him a clipboard. "He looked like he was in a bad mood earlier, but he's in the middle of a double shift, so maybe it's just sleep deprivation." Though she was beyond annoying Shiraishi's first week at the hospital, Yuriko had become something of his co-conspirator. She understood, without Shiraishi having ever said a word, that nothing was ever going to come between them and, should she say anything negative about him to Yukimura, Shiraishi would ensure that her career ended and her life became a shambles reminiscent to Chitose's dressing room after the third costume change.
Shiraishi skimmed the list of patients to whom he was supposed to deliver snack sets. "Not Sasuke," he groaned. His arm still hadn't fully healed from the little brat and his deadly spit. Even though he made sure to use the antibiotic ointment Yukimura gave him, the bites got infected and now he was stuck with these bandages on his arm. Some stupid paparazzi took a picture of him walking to the grocery store with them on, and now all the groupies were wearing medical bandages like it was some sort of Harajuku fad. The band's stylist even suggested he keep them and let it become his "thing."
"Karin can get Sasuke." Yuriko slapped a post-it note on the clipboard.
The string of numbers made Shiraishi's stomach do flips. "Is this-"
"If he finds out I gave this to you, he's going to kill me." Yuriko winked at him. "Thanks for that autograph for my sister's wedding."
All he did was sign a couple of prescription pads, prescribing eternal love for the happy couple. He'd done the same for a Valentine's Day fan event last year. "Any time." He tucked the number into his pocket and went off to find Karin.
*****
Yukimura sat down in the corner of a small café down the street from the hospital. The message left at the reception desk for him was very specific that he sit in the table behind the fake palm tree on the other side of the café from the restroom. If this was Shiraishi's underhanded way of getting a date, Yukimura would be very disappointed. Shiraishi could do much better than a budget café.
"Thanks for coming." A figure in a black suit and sunglasses sat down. "Sorry to pull you away from work."
"Just tell me what you want so I can get back to my shift." After more than 24 hours on the job, Yukimura wanted nothing more in life than pajamas and a dark room to sleep in.
"Ah, this is pretty awkward for me to be saying, but you've got to back off." Now that Yukimura thought about it, the nappy hair currently slicked back with pomade was familiar.
"I'm sorry your boyfriend is spending too much time at the hospital. Perhaps you would like to take him home so the rest of us can work in peace?" Seiichi ignored the small, hissing thought in the back of his mind that doing his shifts without Shiraishi's poor attempts at flirting would be pretty boring.
Long arms waved around in front of Shiraishi's bandmate. "You've got it all wrong! He's totally into you, but we've got these contracts, see, and we can't…oh crap."
Yukimura didn't need to turn around to know that Shiraishi was standing behind him; Shiraishi's allergies were acting up the last few days and he had a telltale wheeze in his breathing because of it.
"What part of mind your own business didn't you understand?" There was an admirable grace to Shiraishi's movements, probably because of all the dancing. "I said I'd be back next week, so just leave it."
"Look, man, Osamu paid us a visit. A physical visit. One where he got off his ass, left his place, and spoke to us without a secretary reading a memo." The green cast to the guy's face said that the head of Osamu Entertainment wasn't a man to be trifled with. "You need to get your ass back in gear and stop feeding things to the tabloids. We've got an image."
Yukimura wondered what the guy's hobo-yakuza-chic look was contributing to their image. "I'm going back to work." He swallowed down his vanilla latte and stood to leave.
"Careful!"
The world swam as a wave of dizziness hit and Yukimura nearly fell to the ground. Had Shiraishi not caught him, his head and the fake palm would have gone to battle.
"I'm fine. Thanks." Yukimura let Shiriashi help him to his feet. "Really, I'm alright," he said when, after he'd regained his balance, Shiraishi's arms remained wrapped around him.
A flash went off, but Yukimura couldn't tell from where and couldn't quite piece together why it should bother him. Everything was still a bit twisty in his brain.
"We'll get one of the nurses to check you over at the hospital. You're probably just tired from working so long." Shiraishi still hadn't let go, and while his fingers sliding through Yukimura's hair were freakishly soothing, it wasn't appropriate in a public place.
Another flash. Shiraishi moved back a step. Looking around, Yukimura couldn't find Shiraishi's bandmate anywhere.
"It's just another few hours until I get off," Yukimura said, turning over his shoulder to smile at Shiraishi, who didn't look quite as vile as he usually did. "I'll be fine."
Shiraishi guided Yukimura out of the shop with a hand to the middle of his back. "Let's get you checked out. We'll deal with everything else after."
Yukimura didn't understand what 'everything else' could be until three hours later.
*****
Shiraishi stared at himself holding Yukimura and wished his on-screen self looked a little less goofy in the face. If he'd had a serious expression, the ticker at the bottom proclaiming "TRA Member's Secret Love Revealed!" might lose a bit of credibility. He didn't even remember petting Yukimura's hair, but the photos on the nightly news showed that he clearly had.
His phone rang for the third time, and he was afraid to answer it. The caller ID told him the head office was calling him-probably to fire him-and he was having enough of a time trying to figure out how he could keep the inevitable horde of reporters from descending on Yukimura and making his life hell. He would gladly be fired tomorrow or the next day. Tonight was his night to make a plan.
On TV, a reporter stood outside a familiar building. "We've confirmed that TRA member Shiraishi's alleged boyfriend works as a nurse here at Kantou General Hospital. No comment has come from the hospital regarding the identity of the man, but external sources say the pair may have met at the group's charity event last month." Publicity video from the charity concert played in the corner while the reporter continued on. "We will continue to monitor the situation in hopes of shedding some light on this story."
Looking at the post-it note Yuriko gave him, Shiraishi took a deep breath, picked up his phone, and dialed. Yukimura probably wouldn't answer, but-
"If this is who I think it is, you better start explaining now."
"I didn't have anything to do with this." In Shiraishi's more devious dreams, he hired Chitose to take a few photos of Shiraishi and Yukimura in a series of domestic scenes at the hospital, but he never shared them with anyone. "Did you get yourself checked out? Are you okay?"
"There are paparazzi clinging to every square inch of the hospital. I need to go to work."
Shiraishi stood and paced across his living room. "I don't care about the paparazzi; I care that you passed out and haven't had an exam to see if you're okay."
The phone's reception made Yukimura's snort sound like an elephant. "I'm fine. Thank you for your semblance of concern. I'd be much happier if you'd stop trying to ruin my life."
Shiraishi stared at the "call ended" notification until his phone began to ring again. This time, he answered it. "Yeah?"
"If you really wanted to get yourself a steady man, you could've asked us. We would've found someone a bit more photogenic." There was a raspy quality to Watanabe Osamu's voice that made him sound like an overly friendly mechanical reptile. "But, since the damage is done, let's get down to business. Do you want to keep him?"
"Yes," was out of Shiraishi's mouth before he could explain that he didn't really "have" Yukimura in the first place.
"We'll send a car for you in one hour."
*****
"Hello, my name is Hanamura. I work for Osamu Entertainment. Osamu would like to speak with you." The woman at Yukimura's door looked like someone sent into a scene just before the building caught fire, the one who made you an offer you couldn't refuse.
"And I assume I'm to come with you?" If anyone tried to drag him from his home, he had a can of pepper spray clipped to his belt that said otherwise.
"Of course not." Hanamura smiled and looked to the side. "Please pardon the intrusion." She pushed through, looked around, and waved in what appeared to be a homeless man.
"Sorry about all of this," the hobo said. "You probably expected this when you two hooked up, but it's never a fun thing, huh?" The hobo removed his floppy hat, revealing a head of golden hair.
"I'm not dating your son," Yukimura said. "He's just a volunteer at the hospital. I fainted and he caught me." And perhaps they were becoming something that could be loosely defined as friends, but he didn't really want to say that to someone who knew his address and, despite looking homeless, smelled of expensive cologne.
"The kid's not my son, just an employee. Though I guess all my boys are a bit like my sons." The man seemed to have genuine affection for his employees. "I spoke to the boy earlier, and he said he wanted to continue seeing you, so I figured we should get together and develop a strategy."
"We're not seeing each other." Yukimura looked toward Hanamura for help, but she was busy looking at his curio of glass flowers.
"Well, as far as the country is concerned, you are, and Shiraishi likes you, so you might want to give it a try. My publicity manager tells me that this could actually be pretty good for the band. I certainly wouldn't mind sharing some of the benefits of that with the hospital. I'm sure the children would like a new wing with state of the art equipment."
The pepper spray clipped to Yukimura's belt felt like a solid and comforting presence. "No, thank you, I-"
The front door opened and Shiraishi stepped in. He froze a moment before closing and locking the door. "I didn't know you lived here, and this wasn't my idea."
"Kuranosuke, come have a seat. I was just speaking to Yukimura about your relationship."
"We're not in a relationship," Shiraishi said, much to Yukimura's surprise. "I was hoping we could be eventually, but this," Shiraishi indicated the scene in the apartment, "isn't helping."
Yukimura thought about the staff at the hospital and all the kids they could help if their equipment were updated. He thought about his mother, who was texting him about his new boyfriend and asking if he'd had Shiraishi tested for diseases because "a boy like that must get around." He thought about the last week and how it was somewhat nice to have someone to talk to about the hospital who wasn't someone from the hospital. He thought about those sparkly, too tight pants.
"Actually," Yukimura said, "Mr. Watanabe thinks we might be able to make it work."
Part 2: TV Boyfriends
Author: whisper132
Recipient: chouta_angel
Pairing/Characters: Shiraishi/Yukimura, a sprinkling of Jirou/Kirihara, Chitose, Jackal, Osamu
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: This may induce "the feels." If you are uncomfortable with "the feels," please speak to your physician prior to interacting with "the feels."
Disclaimer: If I owned this stuff, the plot would be very different. Very. Different.
Summary: When a member of Japan's hottest idol group, The Run Around, meets a sassy nurse, the entertainment industry is turned on its head, and their lives will never be the same again.
Notes: I sat down to write an epic supernatural love story full of gothic overtones and possibly a few lines stolen from Anne Rice. This happened instead, and you may blame Yukimura.
PART 1: THE CHARITY GIG
Shiraishi's pants were too tight. He told Ana that he needed the pants in a size up if they wanted him to be able to do the choreography for the new song, but she told him a size up would pooch out and emphasize his lack of an ass. Unless he wanted to wear padded underwear to fill out the back and also risk possible fake ass scandal, he would have to wear the thigh crushing pants, suck it in, and hope the sparkly white denim didn't make a eunuch of him by the end of the gig.
He was doing this for the children, he reminded himself as he shifted in his seat in the hopes of regaining some feeling in his legs. He was also doing this for cash and because his mother signed his life away to the entertainment industry when he was seven years old. After fourteen years of show business, he felt he should be able to just retire and live out his days in a nice apartment in some mountain village somewhere, but his contract stipulated that Osamu Entertainment owned him until he turned forty or fell out of public favor to such an extent that he needed to be fired. And, if he were being honest, maybe Shiraishi liked the attention a bit too much to quit just yet.
"Why are we doing this in the morning? I want to go home." Jirou gave a big yawn and blinked into the company bus that was transporting them to whatever hospital it was they were going to. "Isn't it kinda cruel to make the sick kids get up this early? Let's reschedule." Despite his words, Jirou wasn't a bad guy; he was the first to champion the idea of this free concert/publicity event. He might have added a few caveats to his support had he known they were going to be holding the concert at 8am, but he would undoubtedly be giving his all for the kiddies when the time came.
Shiraishi reached over to pat Jirou on the knee. "I had to get up at 4am for that drama I did last year. Be thankful this isn't a sunrise concert or something."
"Was that the swimming drama?" Kirihara asked from his spot next to Jirou. "Or was that the one about the construction worker? Or the yakuza one?"
"It was the high school one."
Kirihara stared at the ceiling as he thought. "Which high school one was that?"
"The one about that creepy stalker chick and the haunted school." He couldn't blame them for not knowing; he'd been in four high school dramas in the last two years and, honestly, they were all pretty much the same story. At least it made his lines easy to remember.
"So I guess the guy who always gets up at 4 to do morning show segments doesn't get any love in this little pity party." Jackal blew them a kiss and turned his back to them, continuing to nap against the side of the bus.
Shiraishi thought about telling Jackal that his fanbase was full of kind, respectable girls who weren't trying to claw off his clothes whenever they saw him, but that would just piss Jackal off. Keeping Jackal happy was integral to the group; Jackal was the only one of them who had any vocal training or, if they were being fully honest, any vocal talent at all.
"Do you guys think it's weird that we're in our 20s and still playing high school kids on TV?" Chitose asked from the back of the bus. He was spread across all four rear seats, wrapped in a ratty-looking shawl thing he'd woven from some kind of fancy organic something or other.
"Nobody's complained so far, so I guess the fans don't really care." Shiraishi sure hoped the fans would clue in and let him play an age appropriate role for once. What he wouldn't give for a nice host club drama or a spy film.
The bus stopped. In a burst of speed, the slumped forms inside straightened. Jirou's eyes opened, wide and bright. Chitose shucked his shawl and slid on a sequined jacket. Jackal oiled up his bald head and did a quick vocal warmup. Kirihara checked his teeth to make sure there was no clinging seaweed from the convenience store onigiri he'd eaten on the way. Shiraishi tried, one last time, to wiggle some room into his impossibly tight pants.
Showtime for Osamu Entertainment's star band, The Run Around.
*****
Yukimura Seiichi was on hour 15 of his 18 hour shift. All he wanted in the world was a nap, but he was the lucky loser of the lottery to supervise the children during their meet and greet with some boyband that decided their hospital was the recipient of the yearly publicity pity visit. Yukimura tried to pawn off the work on all of his coworkers who actually wanted to watch the performance, but after he saw the hasty scrawlings on the break roster-all conveniently during the performance-he knew he was stuck monitoring vital signs to make sure the excessive pelvic sways of the choreography weren't too much for their young charges.
"I wonder if they're going to be dressed up," said Yuriko, a nurse who had gone off shift three hours ago but was loitering around in uniform for the sake of the concert. It would have been nice if she used that spare three hours to help Yukimura calm little Keita in D17 down from some night terrors, but Yuriko just sat in one of the chairs at the nurses' station and twirled around in a circle while Keita's screaming filled the ward.
"I hope not. I've always wanted to see Chitose in his street clothes. I bet the tabloids don't do them justice." Mari, first to schedule her conveniently timed break, gave Yuriko a hug around the shoulders. "I'm so glad I decided to become a nurse at this hospital!"
The two women devolved into giggles. Yukimura checked over some charts and grabbed the tray with the morning's first round of medication. "I'll be back." He gave the women his best smile because, as the only male nurse at the hospital, he needed the support of these women to keep him from accidentally doing physical harm to some of the more traditional doctors at the hospital who kept insisting nursing was a women's profession and Yukimura was a lazyass who couldn't make it in 'real' medical school. Closing his eyes and taking a deep inhale, Yukimura centered himself again for the task at hand.
"Uh, excuse me, but where are the kids with cancer and stuff?"
Great, the idiot train pulled in early. "Hello! Welcome to Kantou General Hospital. Please follow me and I'll take you to the space we've sectioned off for you to rest in before the performance. It's not much, but I hope it will meet your needs." Yukimura gripped his tray of medications tightly and prepared for the worst as he guided the members of Japan's hottest boyband to one of the back offices. "I'm afraid I'll have to finish my rounds, but I'll be back to assist you momentarily Mr…"
A blonde hip checked the tall, scraggly haired guy Yukimura was talking to. "Shiraishi. Feel free to call me Kuranosuke."
Yukimura gave the blonde a quick look over. Not bad, but those pants were going to destroy any hope the guy had of progeny. Probably for the best, really. "Please rest in here." Yukimura opened the office door and waved the men in. "Again, I apologize for the inconvenience and will be back in a moment."
"I'll be waiting right here for you." Shiraishi stepped to the side, letting his bandmates into the room. "Unless you want me to come with you. That tray looks awfully heavy."
"I'm fine, thank you." Yukimura bowed slightly and walked away as quickly as decorum would allow. As he distributed medication to the children, he hoped, if they lived to see adulthood, none of the kids ever turned out to be like the creepy guy in the too tight pants.
*****
"We're here to sing for some dying kids, not to hit on the nurses," Jackal told Shiraishi for the third time. The guy was a real nag.
Chitose used his massive wingspan to pull Jackal and Shiraishi into a group hug. "Now, now, I think we can sing for the dying kids and hit on the nurses at the same time. Why limit the experience?"
Jackal's eyes widened. "Why do people think you're a decent human being? How is it possible?"
Chitose grinned and squeezed both of his captives a little harder, bringing Shiraishi into the crook of his cedar-scented armpit. "Anything is possible if you set the right intentions."
He thought about telling Jackal not to fight a losing battle, but Shiraishi kind of enjoyed watching their stalwart bandmate flounder in the face of Chitose's unabashed ego.
"They're completely inappropriate intentions," Jackal said. "Maybe you could set an intention not to get us on the news for indecent behavior."
"Look, I know you're saving yourself for your true Brazilian love, but the rest of us need to get it where we can find it, and-"
"Sorry to interrupt," said a voice from the door that both lifted Shiraishi's heart and somehow turned his blood cold at the same time. "I've finished my rounds and was wondering if any of you gentlemen would care for tea before it's time to start."
Shiraishi broke free of Chitose's hold and walked up to the sparkling vision in yellow and black scrubs. "Let me help you."
"Give it a rest already," Jirou grumbled. He was sprawled across a low sofa with his head on Kirihara's lap. "The guy's obviously not interested. Let's just go play the set and let these people get on with their lives." After his outburst, Jirou went limp and started to snore softly.
The quiet little smile that flew across Yukimura's lips was pointed at Jirou and not Shiraishi, and for that their dance specialist would suffer on the bus ride back home. "I'll be back with the tea in a moment," Yukimura said, his voice giving nothing away. "Thank you for your patience."
When the gorgeous nurse was gone, Shiraishi rounded on his bandmates. "You guys are going to ruin this for me." He cast a quick look back to the door. Maybe he should just go out there and give chase. The nurse was just playing hard to get. Honestly, who could resist the fine package Shiraishi presented?
"You'll ruin it fine without our help," Kirihara snickered. If the kid weren't the nephew of the boss, Shiraishi would've left him stranded in Okinawa long, long ago.
"Shh," Jirou grumbled. "I'm trying to sleep."
Kirihara scratched his fingers through Jirou's hair and smiled. "Sorry."
Ugh, those two were disgusting. Shiraishi would never be so sappy. He wondered if Yukimura went in for that kind of fluffy, feel good crap. Nah, the guy seemed more a biter than a snuggler, which was all for the best because-
"Sorry for the delay," Yukimura said as he entered the office again, this time balancing a tray with a tea service. Shiraishi rushed to free him of his burden. "Thanks." The smile Yukimura gave was a lot prettier than the first one Shiraishi'd had directed at him. Maybe this one was the real thing.
"My pleasure." Shiraishi tried hard not to look like he was thinking about other pleasurable things they could do besides play Pass the Tea Tray. "Thanks for taking care of us."
The smile faded and in its place was a thin-lipped, neutral thing that Shiraishi had seen on many a nurse's face. They taught some weird stuff at nursing school. "Kantou General is very honored to have you. If we can offer our services to you at any time during your stay, please don't hesitate to ask. I have been authorized to extend a wide variety of medical benefits to you, including general wellness and STD treatment and prevention services."
"Hey," Chitose said, shoving Shiraishi out of the way, "about that STD stuff-"
*****
Baby, this racket is the beating of my heart
So far, Yukimura wasn't impressed. The music the band was dancing to was prerecorded, the dance moves were easily replicable by even the most rhythmically challenged member of the staff (Mana from cardiology), and only one member could actually carry a tune. The hospital might as well have videotaped last year's bonenkai and let the kids watch the pediatricians dance to Beyoncé.
Ooh ooh!
How the blonde with the bad pickup lines managed to get his leg to kick that high in such tight jeans was the most remarkable part of the whole performance-not that Yukimura was paying any special attention to the guy; it was just difficult not to notice that kind of thing when the lights reflected off the bedazzled denim so much.
"I don't get it," little Junichiro said as Yukimura gave the boy's fragile heart a brief listen with a stethoscope. "Why is this cool?"
Junichiro was a good kid. He probably wouldn't live past 16, but in the time he had left, he would no doubt shower the world with a good deal of wisdom via the blog he maintained. "I don't know," Yukimura answered truthfully. "People like strange things sometimes." He patted Junichiro on the head and went to check up on the next patient in line.
It's the sound of our clashing love-love time
Yukimura felt a pulling at his sleeve. "What does love-love time mean?" asked 4 year-old Yuuko.
The tall guy on stage shaking his hips at the cluster of squealing nurses just off stage was going to receive some very special STD test results in the mail next week. Perhaps the crippling panic and despair he felt until the actual results came in would teach him not to present their patients with bad examples of acceptable public behavior.
"It means a special time when two people sit together on a couch and hug," Yukimura said. He wasn't about to give some lameass excuse to the kid, but he also wasn't going to explain to Yuuko's mother why a weekend charity concert sanctioned by the hospital was the reason for her daughter's sudden epiphanies about human sexual behavior.
And I want it to last forever
The bald guy jumped down from their small, portable stage and took Sakura's hand. Sakura had just gone through a rough round of chemotherapy that cost her all of her hair. The smile on her face was the first Yukimura had seen in months.
No matter what the world tells us
Why was the blonde guy looking at him? He couldn't possibly…no. Absolutely not.
Yukimura tuned out the concert and focused on his clipboard. Once he was done checking vitals, he needed to get afternoon medications ready.
*****
"Just give it to me. You're not going to use it." Shiraishi lunged for Kirihara but was blocked by Jirou's foot to his chest.
"People are trying to sleep here," Jirou grumbled. "In case you've forgotten, we did three encores, which is two more encores than we were supposed to do." Jirou dug his heel into Shiraishi's sternum. "And I only had a granola bar for breakfast this morning. Are you honestly going to come over here, bugging us for some guy's work schedule, when I'm sleepy and malnourished?"
Shiraishi sat back into his seat and cleared his throat. In a voice he usually reserved for the more high tensioned call and response songs he began, "Since you're so interested in what I would like to do with that shift schedule, let me tell you. All of you. Everything."
"Give him the schedule!" Jackal yelled. "Do not make me listen to this."
"The first day, I'm going to surprise him with flowers halfway through his shift." Shiraishi could see it all in his mind as he spoke. "They're going to be wildflowers, but it'll be a big bouquet. A lower grade flower says that I'm not a crazy, clingy kind of guy, but the quantity shows that I'm into him." He knew just the florist to arrange it, too. It was the #17 bouquet down at the Marui Flower Shop. "After I drop off the flowers, I'll head out for a few hours then head back to the hospital to take him out to lunch."
"Two visits in one day? That's a neon sign for desperation, man." Chitose shook his head and reached over the back of Shiraishi's seat to clap him on the shoulder. "Either you've got it bad or you've got no game at all."
"Why are you encouraging this?" Jackal asked.
Jirou kicked out toward Shiraishi, but his legs were too short to reach. "I'm trying to sleep!"
Shiraishi held his hand out. "Schedule."
Kirihara held the list to his chest.
"For lunch we're going to go to a nice little French place a few blocks from the hospital. I looked it up on my phone while we were waiting for the crowds to clear. He looks like the kind of guy who goes for mostly vegetarian stuff, but he's got feisty eyes, so I'm betting he's probably a real carnivore." Shiraishi's vision lost focus as he recalled Yukimura's face. "I can see it now. We'll sit down and he'll order something rare but in a reasonable price range just in case I'm a flake and stick him with the bill."
"Well at least you're being honest in your delusions," Jackal sighed.
"I'll set some bills down under a placemat so he knows I'm not going to ditch him. That's when I'll slide my foot up his-"
"Take it!" Jirou grabbed the list from Kirihara and threw it at Shiraishi. "Just shut up and never talk to me again."
"Can he just finish with the lunch? It was getting kinda good." Chitose popped open a bottled water.
Jackal dove to the front of the bus and turned on the radio. "We are going to sit quietly and listen to classical music until we get to the studio." He pointed to Shiraishi. "No more story time. Jirou is trying to nap."
Chitose stuck his tongue out at Jackal before curling up in his seat and throwing his ratty shawl around himself.
"I'll tell you when we get back to the studio," Shiraishi promised. He ripped off the top portion of the schedule and handed it to Chitose. "You'll have more use of these than I will."
"You're the best."
"Yes, I am."
*****
Taking two weeks of vacation was the best thing Yukimura could've done for himself. Not only had he been able to get his balcony garden back under control (the tomatoes were threatening to invade Fukuyama-san's balcony), but the absolute quiet of his apartment served to reset his temperament after the chaos that stupid boyband left in their wake. Surely everything was back to normal by now. Surely the children were on to their next big obsession (except the ones who were fans of the band to begin with) and the staff would be back to focusing on the business of running the hospital and caring for their patients.
"Hey! Welcome back!"
Yukimura's legs froze up on him mid-stride and he nearly toppled.
Shiraishi walked out of the administrative island wearing scrubs. "I came around to ask you to lunch, but you were on vacation. After I saw how much work these wonderful ladies were putting in, I decided I would volunteer some time."
Why weren't his legs moving? Why couldn't he just run in the other direction and use another week of paid vacation? "It's very kind of you to give up your valuable time," Yukimura said because the blonde was looking at him as though he expected a reply.
"Your dedication moved me." Despite the lilting invitation in his words, Shiraishi remained a respectable distance away. Yukimura wasn't sure what to make of the gesture. Perhaps the guy actually did give a damn about the kids.
"I'm sure the children are happy you're here. They enjoyed your concert a great deal." His fellow nurses were also probably happy to have the superstar around, though maybe their hysteria had calmed down if they'd been seeing Shiraishi every day. Whatever. It wasn't Yukimura's problem. "If you'll excuse me, I need to get to work."
Shiraishi held up a clipboard. "I've got our schedule right here."
Nope. Yukimura's legs were still not going to move. "Our schedule?"
"I've gone on rounds with everyone else already." Shiraishi licked his lips and then gave a little bow. "I put myself in your hands."
******
"Stop moving."
"It hurts!"
"It won't hurt if you stop moving."
Shiraishi tried to hold as still as possible while Yukimura injected a numbing agent into his arm. "I can't believe the kid bit me. What the hell did I do to him, huh?"
"We'll stitch it up and it'll be good as new." This was the first time he'd managed to get the nurse to smile at him all day. Too bad he was too horrified by the giant gashes in his arm to really let it sink in.
"The kid hates me," Shiraishi concluded, replaying the last fifteen minutes over in his head. Little Sasuke had been an angel for the last two weeks, happily taking his medications and not letting the fact that both of his legs were broken weigh him down. Today, the cute kid with the broken legs grabbed Shiraishi's arm, pulled the arm to his mouth, and tore in with teeth that were too sharp to be human. And then the brat gnawed on him a bit, ripping off little hunks of flesh that he spit right in Shiraishi's face.
Yukimura frowned down at Shiraishi's arm while he stitched it up. "He doesn't hate you; he's just temperamental."
No, the kid hated him. There was a joyful gleam in his eye as he watched Shiraishi run to the sink to rinse the blood off his arm. And then, once Yukimura entered the room to see what all the screaming was about, the little rat was all smiles again. There was something mentally wrong with Sanada Sasuke.
"How long do you think this is going to take to heal? We've got summer touring coming up."
Yukimura didn't answer for a few moments, his focus on finishing out the last stitches. "That depends. Do you normally heal quickly?" Shiraishi shivered as Yukimura's eyes ran the full length of his body. "You look like you might be a bit underweight, too. If that's the case, then it'll take you longer to heal because your body doesn't have enough resources."
"Gotta fit into the concert pants, so gaining weight is kinda out of the picture. Besides, if I go up so much as half a kilogram, the tabloids would print some big 'Osamu Entertainment Star Goes on Buffet Binge!' story and the boss would kill me." Man, a buffet really sounded good.
Yukimura laughed, but his eyes weren't in it. "Must be tough."
Shiraishi shrugged. "It's what we signed up for." What his mother signed him up for, really, but the business model was solid and the benefits were good.
"You should talk to our nutritionist. She can recommend a meal plan for you that's got the proper nutrients and won't add weight." He looked Shiraishi up and down again. "A personal trainer could also suggest proper exercise to help you gain muscle to burn off any extra calories."
"Tell you what, let's talk about something else." The company had a nutritionist and a personal trainer, both of whom had told Shiraishi the same things for the last few years, and he had dutifully ignored them. Just because the advice was coming from a medically trained professional that Shiraishi was sweet on didn't change the fact that he didn't want to bother.
"While we're running your blood sample for tetanus and any infections, did you want us to check it for STDs as well?" Yukimura's teeth glinted as he smiled.
"Um…yes, please."
*****
"You could've told us you were friends with a member of The Run Around," Yuriko pouted when Seiichi came into work the next day. "And you could've told us he was going to be here all day." She sighed and threw herself into one of the desk chairs. "Oh, Kuranosuke, I'll always treasure our hour together." She held her clipboard to her chest. "The way you smiled, the way you handed out lollipops-I'll never forget you!"
"An hour? He didn't spend all day with you?" Yukimura shouldn't have been surprised. It figured the guy would want to run away from crazy fangirls.
"And all we did was talk about you the whole time." She scowled a moment and then a strange sparkle came to her eye. "Are you two-"
"There is no Venn diagram that would ever connect me and a guy like that." Just thinking about it gave Yukimura acid reflux. "When he comes back to get his stitches checked out, why don't you talk to him…like a normal human being." He gave her his best supportive smile (no teeth, just a slight tilt up at the corners of the mouth) and grabbed a stack of paperwork to take down to the lab.
"Hey, I heard you're friends with that guy from The Run Around. Think you can get me an autograph for the wife?" Inoue was a nice guy but not so bright. How he managed to convince someone to marry him was beyond Yukimura's comprehension. Ah well, it took all kinds to make a world, he supposed.
"I'm not friends with anyone famous," Yukimura said while handing off the paperwork. "Sorry to disappoint you. Maybe the event coordinator can put you in touch with the group's representatives." More and more, he was starting to be grateful that Sasuke took a chunk out of Shiraishi's arm. Gossip spread quickly at the hospital, and it would probably be days before everyone understood that Yukimura didn't know-
"Hey! Sorry I'm late for our shift. Took me a while to get this thing on to cover all the stitches." Shiriashi jogged up to join Yukimura and raised an arm wrapped in bandages.
"Inoue wants an autograph for his wife. After you're done with that, you can have Yuriko rewrap your arm so your circulation isn't cut off." Yukimura power walked to the elevators, but Shiraishi was by his side before the elevator came.
"You're mad at me."
All the deep breathing in the world wasn't going to make this lie come any easier. "Of course not. I'm just busy."
"I'll bet. The other nurses really depend on you a lot. I couldn't get as much time in the last two weeks to volunteer because of some photo shoots, but every time I was here, they were always talking about how you'd know where things were or how to do things if you were here." Shiraishi elbowed Yukimura lightly in the side. "This place would probably collapse if you took too much time off. Still, they said you hadn't been on vacation since you were hired a year ago. That can't be healthy."
"Bills don't pay themselves." The elevator came and Yukimura hurried inside, glad for the somber silence of the crowd within.
*****
"You wouldn't know it to look at him, but he was such a sickly thing when he was younger." Matsumoto, one of the lab techs, was a wealth of information. He was the oldest member of staff, and he knew everything about everyone. "He spent the better part of the year in the hospital fighting that disease. Bet that's why he became a nurse. They always did manage to get him to smile, even on the bad days." Crinkled eyes looked up toward the ceiling. "And there were plenty of those."
It would be inappropriate to ask what the disease was or if that was the reason Yukimura was such a sourpuss. Still, it gave Shiraishi an important insight into the battle ahead of him. "Thanks for the talk. I should get back upstairs." He waved goodbye to the old man and jogged to the elevators. This was his last week volunteering at the hospital before the band started their dome tour training. If he didn't make his move now, the chance might never come again. Their manager had been quite clear that Shiraishi wasn't to return to volunteering after tour season was over. The company passed up on two commercial slots because of Shiraishi, and they wouldn't 'humor his hobbies' after this week.
"There you are! Yukimura had some personal errands to run, so he said you should go around with Karin until he gets in." Yuriko handed him a clipboard. "He looked like he was in a bad mood earlier, but he's in the middle of a double shift, so maybe it's just sleep deprivation." Though she was beyond annoying Shiraishi's first week at the hospital, Yuriko had become something of his co-conspirator. She understood, without Shiraishi having ever said a word, that nothing was ever going to come between them and, should she say anything negative about him to Yukimura, Shiraishi would ensure that her career ended and her life became a shambles reminiscent to Chitose's dressing room after the third costume change.
Shiraishi skimmed the list of patients to whom he was supposed to deliver snack sets. "Not Sasuke," he groaned. His arm still hadn't fully healed from the little brat and his deadly spit. Even though he made sure to use the antibiotic ointment Yukimura gave him, the bites got infected and now he was stuck with these bandages on his arm. Some stupid paparazzi took a picture of him walking to the grocery store with them on, and now all the groupies were wearing medical bandages like it was some sort of Harajuku fad. The band's stylist even suggested he keep them and let it become his "thing."
"Karin can get Sasuke." Yuriko slapped a post-it note on the clipboard.
The string of numbers made Shiraishi's stomach do flips. "Is this-"
"If he finds out I gave this to you, he's going to kill me." Yuriko winked at him. "Thanks for that autograph for my sister's wedding."
All he did was sign a couple of prescription pads, prescribing eternal love for the happy couple. He'd done the same for a Valentine's Day fan event last year. "Any time." He tucked the number into his pocket and went off to find Karin.
*****
Yukimura sat down in the corner of a small café down the street from the hospital. The message left at the reception desk for him was very specific that he sit in the table behind the fake palm tree on the other side of the café from the restroom. If this was Shiraishi's underhanded way of getting a date, Yukimura would be very disappointed. Shiraishi could do much better than a budget café.
"Thanks for coming." A figure in a black suit and sunglasses sat down. "Sorry to pull you away from work."
"Just tell me what you want so I can get back to my shift." After more than 24 hours on the job, Yukimura wanted nothing more in life than pajamas and a dark room to sleep in.
"Ah, this is pretty awkward for me to be saying, but you've got to back off." Now that Yukimura thought about it, the nappy hair currently slicked back with pomade was familiar.
"I'm sorry your boyfriend is spending too much time at the hospital. Perhaps you would like to take him home so the rest of us can work in peace?" Seiichi ignored the small, hissing thought in the back of his mind that doing his shifts without Shiraishi's poor attempts at flirting would be pretty boring.
Long arms waved around in front of Shiraishi's bandmate. "You've got it all wrong! He's totally into you, but we've got these contracts, see, and we can't…oh crap."
Yukimura didn't need to turn around to know that Shiraishi was standing behind him; Shiraishi's allergies were acting up the last few days and he had a telltale wheeze in his breathing because of it.
"What part of mind your own business didn't you understand?" There was an admirable grace to Shiraishi's movements, probably because of all the dancing. "I said I'd be back next week, so just leave it."
"Look, man, Osamu paid us a visit. A physical visit. One where he got off his ass, left his place, and spoke to us without a secretary reading a memo." The green cast to the guy's face said that the head of Osamu Entertainment wasn't a man to be trifled with. "You need to get your ass back in gear and stop feeding things to the tabloids. We've got an image."
Yukimura wondered what the guy's hobo-yakuza-chic look was contributing to their image. "I'm going back to work." He swallowed down his vanilla latte and stood to leave.
"Careful!"
The world swam as a wave of dizziness hit and Yukimura nearly fell to the ground. Had Shiraishi not caught him, his head and the fake palm would have gone to battle.
"I'm fine. Thanks." Yukimura let Shiriashi help him to his feet. "Really, I'm alright," he said when, after he'd regained his balance, Shiraishi's arms remained wrapped around him.
A flash went off, but Yukimura couldn't tell from where and couldn't quite piece together why it should bother him. Everything was still a bit twisty in his brain.
"We'll get one of the nurses to check you over at the hospital. You're probably just tired from working so long." Shiraishi still hadn't let go, and while his fingers sliding through Yukimura's hair were freakishly soothing, it wasn't appropriate in a public place.
Another flash. Shiraishi moved back a step. Looking around, Yukimura couldn't find Shiraishi's bandmate anywhere.
"It's just another few hours until I get off," Yukimura said, turning over his shoulder to smile at Shiraishi, who didn't look quite as vile as he usually did. "I'll be fine."
Shiraishi guided Yukimura out of the shop with a hand to the middle of his back. "Let's get you checked out. We'll deal with everything else after."
Yukimura didn't understand what 'everything else' could be until three hours later.
*****
Shiraishi stared at himself holding Yukimura and wished his on-screen self looked a little less goofy in the face. If he'd had a serious expression, the ticker at the bottom proclaiming "TRA Member's Secret Love Revealed!" might lose a bit of credibility. He didn't even remember petting Yukimura's hair, but the photos on the nightly news showed that he clearly had.
His phone rang for the third time, and he was afraid to answer it. The caller ID told him the head office was calling him-probably to fire him-and he was having enough of a time trying to figure out how he could keep the inevitable horde of reporters from descending on Yukimura and making his life hell. He would gladly be fired tomorrow or the next day. Tonight was his night to make a plan.
On TV, a reporter stood outside a familiar building. "We've confirmed that TRA member Shiraishi's alleged boyfriend works as a nurse here at Kantou General Hospital. No comment has come from the hospital regarding the identity of the man, but external sources say the pair may have met at the group's charity event last month." Publicity video from the charity concert played in the corner while the reporter continued on. "We will continue to monitor the situation in hopes of shedding some light on this story."
Looking at the post-it note Yuriko gave him, Shiraishi took a deep breath, picked up his phone, and dialed. Yukimura probably wouldn't answer, but-
"If this is who I think it is, you better start explaining now."
"I didn't have anything to do with this." In Shiraishi's more devious dreams, he hired Chitose to take a few photos of Shiraishi and Yukimura in a series of domestic scenes at the hospital, but he never shared them with anyone. "Did you get yourself checked out? Are you okay?"
"There are paparazzi clinging to every square inch of the hospital. I need to go to work."
Shiraishi stood and paced across his living room. "I don't care about the paparazzi; I care that you passed out and haven't had an exam to see if you're okay."
The phone's reception made Yukimura's snort sound like an elephant. "I'm fine. Thank you for your semblance of concern. I'd be much happier if you'd stop trying to ruin my life."
Shiraishi stared at the "call ended" notification until his phone began to ring again. This time, he answered it. "Yeah?"
"If you really wanted to get yourself a steady man, you could've asked us. We would've found someone a bit more photogenic." There was a raspy quality to Watanabe Osamu's voice that made him sound like an overly friendly mechanical reptile. "But, since the damage is done, let's get down to business. Do you want to keep him?"
"Yes," was out of Shiraishi's mouth before he could explain that he didn't really "have" Yukimura in the first place.
"We'll send a car for you in one hour."
*****
"Hello, my name is Hanamura. I work for Osamu Entertainment. Osamu would like to speak with you." The woman at Yukimura's door looked like someone sent into a scene just before the building caught fire, the one who made you an offer you couldn't refuse.
"And I assume I'm to come with you?" If anyone tried to drag him from his home, he had a can of pepper spray clipped to his belt that said otherwise.
"Of course not." Hanamura smiled and looked to the side. "Please pardon the intrusion." She pushed through, looked around, and waved in what appeared to be a homeless man.
"Sorry about all of this," the hobo said. "You probably expected this when you two hooked up, but it's never a fun thing, huh?" The hobo removed his floppy hat, revealing a head of golden hair.
"I'm not dating your son," Yukimura said. "He's just a volunteer at the hospital. I fainted and he caught me." And perhaps they were becoming something that could be loosely defined as friends, but he didn't really want to say that to someone who knew his address and, despite looking homeless, smelled of expensive cologne.
"The kid's not my son, just an employee. Though I guess all my boys are a bit like my sons." The man seemed to have genuine affection for his employees. "I spoke to the boy earlier, and he said he wanted to continue seeing you, so I figured we should get together and develop a strategy."
"We're not seeing each other." Yukimura looked toward Hanamura for help, but she was busy looking at his curio of glass flowers.
"Well, as far as the country is concerned, you are, and Shiraishi likes you, so you might want to give it a try. My publicity manager tells me that this could actually be pretty good for the band. I certainly wouldn't mind sharing some of the benefits of that with the hospital. I'm sure the children would like a new wing with state of the art equipment."
The pepper spray clipped to Yukimura's belt felt like a solid and comforting presence. "No, thank you, I-"
The front door opened and Shiraishi stepped in. He froze a moment before closing and locking the door. "I didn't know you lived here, and this wasn't my idea."
"Kuranosuke, come have a seat. I was just speaking to Yukimura about your relationship."
"We're not in a relationship," Shiraishi said, much to Yukimura's surprise. "I was hoping we could be eventually, but this," Shiraishi indicated the scene in the apartment, "isn't helping."
Yukimura thought about the staff at the hospital and all the kids they could help if their equipment were updated. He thought about his mother, who was texting him about his new boyfriend and asking if he'd had Shiraishi tested for diseases because "a boy like that must get around." He thought about the last week and how it was somewhat nice to have someone to talk to about the hospital who wasn't someone from the hospital. He thought about those sparkly, too tight pants.
"Actually," Yukimura said, "Mr. Watanabe thinks we might be able to make it work."
Part 2: TV Boyfriends