the porn shop
[11.01.2008]
Title: The Porn Shop
Pairing: Koyama x Ryo
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3900+
Notes: AU. Bizarre, even for my standards. The continuation of this drabble. zukkii, I am so very sorry.
Summary: Koyama buys porn every Tuesday during Ryo’s midnight shift.
The Porn Shop
When the bell chimes loosely through the midnight air, Ryo glances quickly at the man in front of the door before going back to his video game, “Welcome!”
The man nods in response as he eases his way through the aisles, deftly picking up a few titles even Ryo hasn’t seen before placing them on the counter. “How much?” the man asks, and Ryo starts at the smooth quality to his voice, and with a second glance, he takes in the slanted amber of the man’s eyes framed prettily by dark lashes.
“For three DVD’s? A thousand yen,” Ryo swallows. He’s seen all sorts of men walk into the store. Old men with probably no sex life and leery smiles. Shy boys, young boys, with geeky glasses and a stutter in their voices and a shuffle in their step. He’s seen guys like him, average twenty year olds bumbling around just looking for a quick fix late at night.
But never has he seen a man like this one. Tall, angular face, wispy hair and a rich soothing voice, nails neatly manicured as he presses the bill into Ryo’s hand, graceful tilt in his head and sway in his walk. He wears a neatly pressed coat and designer jeans, scarf wrapped carelessly around his long long neck. It fascinates him, this guy who totally does not belong with the other riff raff here.
Ryo wonders who this man is to walk into a porn shop so pathetic and rundown as this one.
A couple of days later, the same man walks into the store just as Ryo is about to finish his shift. Ryo bites his lip and looks at Yamapi behind the counter, who also seems transfixed with this mysterious man and his well kept appearance and firm glide to his step. Yamapi doesn’t even notice Ryo’s sudden hesitation to leave, when just a minute earlier he was complaining about how all he wanted to do was go home and drink an ice-cold beer.
Yamapi smiles extra brightly at the man when he comes up the counter, “Just the one DVD?”
“Just the one,” the man laughs, handing over some hundred yen coins. “My friend didn’t really like the last ones I got him.”
Ryo raises his brow just as Yamapi smirks, “Right. You’re saying these aren’t for you?”
The man grins and lets out a small giggle at Yamapi’s response, “I know you don’t believe me, but they really aren’t. My friend can’t come down here, so I said I’d do it for him.”
Yamapi chuckles, handing the man his change, “You must really like this guy.”
The man shrugs, and Ryo thinks he might be imagining the small blush that spreads across the man’s smooth cheeks, “You could say that.”
“Oi, Ryo.” Ryo snaps his head at Yamapi’s voice. “I thought you were dying to get out of here.”
Ryo glares as he quickly gathers the remainder of his things, “Shut up, douchebag. I’m going, I’m going.” With a huff, he storms out of the shop and into the chilly night air which envelops him like a glove. It makes him shudder a little.
He is half-tempted to wait around the entrance for another glimpse at the man, but then he clucks at himself with disgust. Ryo doesn’t know how this one man can interest him so much, and for no reason at all, really. He forces himself to walk briskly away, hands in his pockets and eyes staunchly focused in front of him.
He finds himself stuck at a stoplight, and he hates that his stomach twists extra hard when, a few seconds later, he glances to the side to find the man standing calmly next to him, eyes focused on the red light. The man looks down at Ryo beside him, and he smiles, “Thank you for your hard work.”
Ryo’s eyes widen and he barely opens his mouth to respond before the light turns green and the man walks ahead. Ryo tries to walk in step with the man, but after a minute, as the man pulls farther and farther ahead and away, Ryo gives up.
Sometimes, Ryo hates how short his legs are (but he hates the way his heart races at the sight of the man’s retreating back even more).
The man eventually develops a routine and comes by the shop every Tuesday night. Every Tuesday night during Ryo’s midnight shift. The man’s eyes light up when he sees Ryo now, something sparks and he smiles as he recognizes Ryo’s face. He smiles a little softer at Ryo, waves when he comes in. It’s these little things that has Ryo completely and utterly tongue-tied, and Ryo has never felt so much like a girl as he does in those moments. Every now and then, when the man gazes at the porn and tilts his head just so, Ryo really wants to ask the guy his name, but that’s a bit too creepy, even for Ryo.
One blustery Tuesday, the man walks in and Ryo realizes, with a start, that this is the first time the two of them are alone in the shop. The two of them and rows upon rows of porn. Ryo idly wonders if this is fate (and then hates himself for doing so).
For the first time, the man goes up to the counter empty-handed, “Do you have any recommendations?”
Ryo blinks, half at the question and half because they’ve never had a conversation beyond here’s your change. “I’m sorry?”
“Recommendations,” the man repeats with a smile, “Surely you’ve seen some of these. So which ones are the good ones?” Ryo points to the bestsellers rack, but before he can say anything the man shakes his head, “I got DVDs from that rack before; my friend thought they were stupid.”
With a raised brow, Ryo walks away from the counter and grabs some titles off the shelves, “Personally, I like these. But really, it depends on the person.”
“Thanks!” The man grins, shifting through the DVDs curiously.
Ryo looks at the pretty pretty man in front of him, “These really aren’t for you?” he asks, incredulousness laced in every word.
The man laughs, “What, you don’t believe me? Even after I said it last time?” Ryo flushes and is about to apologize but the man waves it off, “It really is just for a friend, really. He’s a horny bastard who can’t get laid, so he’s given me official porn duty.” The man shrugs and places the DVDs on the counter.
Ryo walks behind the counter, still a bit embarrassed that he was prying into a customer’s private life, “Why can’t he just get it himself?”
For a split second, the man’s face blanks, and it happens so rapidly that Ryo almost thinks that he imagined it. Then the man smiles extra wide, “I guess it’s because he’s lazy.”
“Lazy,” Ryo deadpans, but the man’s attention is already focused elsewhere, rummaging through his bag.
The man rummages a bit more. “A thousand yen, right?” he mutters, mostly to himself, Ryo thinks.
Ryo is tempted to say the DVDs are on him, but thankfully decides against it, “You’re some kind of friend, doing this just because of your friend’s laziness.”
At those words, the man pauses from triumphantly pulling out his wallet. “It’s because I’m not a good friend that I’m doing this for him,” he says cryptically, and Ryo can only fixate his eyes on the way the man’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. It is in that moment, as Ryo watches something in the man’s eyes die, that Ryo wishes desperately that he could take his words back. But of course, it’s already too late, and the man leaves the store without another word.
And Ryo still doesn’t know his name.
Much to Ryo’s disappointment, though not to his great surprise, the man stops going to the porn shop. Weeks turn into a couple of months, and just as Ryo is beginning to think the man would never return (he still had had hope up until that point), Yamapi gives Ryo a frantic phone call.
“Please,” Yamapi begs, and Ryo just rolls his eyes as Yamapi continues to ramble, “Ryo-chan, this girl is SO hot and she has the greatest tits, man. Ryo, you want me to get laid, right? Don’t you? I do. I really do!” Ryo can’t believe Yamapi has such a hot date on a Monday night, but then again, it’s Yamapi he’s talking about. Sometimes it’s like Yamapi can do anything. “Please take my Monday shift! I will…buy you…stuff. Something, anything; what do you want?”
Ryo wants to say no, really wants to say no, but realistically, Ryo knows that his mystery man probably isn’t going to show up this Tuesday either. For a second, he almost wants to say he’ll take both Monday and Tuesday, but then Yamapi is going to ask why and he really doesn’t want to answer. So with a sigh, he agrees.
When Ryo arrives at the shop on Monday, he stops and stares at the very man he couldn’t stop wondering about browsing aisle three. The man stops and stares right back. Ryo coughs gruffly, “Yo.”
The man nods, not saying anything. He averts his eyes and quickly chooses three DVDs, and Ryo can practically taste the man’s reluctance to be in that store with Ryo. When the man goes to the counter, Ryo can’t stop the inquiry from escaping, “So you come on Mondays now?” He tries to sound neutral but Ryo knows that there’s a hurt tone to his voice, a deeper question hidden underneath.
The man still doesn’t say anything, and just when he’s about to leave, he pauses. The silence is stifling, and Ryo can’t help but be reminded of that last time they were in the shop together so many nights ago, when all Ryo could see was the man’s elegant back as he raced out the door.
“I said too much,” the man says quietly. Ryo thinks it’s ironic because to him, the man didn’t say nearly enough, or at least not enough for Ryo to understand.
“I didn’t mind,” Ryo says honestly. And he means it. When the man looks up and into Ryo’s eyes, Ryo wishes he knew what the man was thinking, as he looks at the unnamed emotion swimming heavily beneath the man’s single lids.
So the man starts coming back on Tuesday nights. And this time they talk. Never about this mysterious friend, but about almost everything else, or at least it seems that way. Sometimes no one else is in the shop and it’s just the two of them and their stories, and other times, customers mingle as Koyama sits behind the counter with Ryo and they converse in hushed tones. Either way, Ryo ends up learning more about this man more with each passing Tuesday, and he slowly becomes less mysterious to Ryo with every minute they talk with each other.
For instance, Ryo finally learns the man’s name. Koyama. Koyama Keiichiro, the man says with a smile, when Ryo stumblingly asks one day. He can barely get Nishikido Ryo to escape his lips when Koyama asks for his name back. Koyama Keiichiro. Koyama. Keiichiro. The name rings in Ryo’s ears for days after, and Ryo hates the giddiness that he feels whenever he thinks of the name.
He finds out Koyama’s a school teacher, apparently easy going and sometimes a pushover. He learns that Koyama goes to Karaoke a lot, likes to sing and dance in the privacy of his own home. Koyama is a religious viewer of daytime soaps and gets panic attacks when his cat gets sick. Ryo learns all of this and more as the two of them converse with each other, as Koyama spends more and more time every Tuesday in the old rickety porn shop that seems to be almost brighter with Koyama’s presence alone. Sometimes, Koyama brings food, since apparently Ryo eats too much junk food behind the counter. Ryo moans and groans about it each and every time, but really, as he eats the tofu salad, really he’s just happy that Koyama even notices.
One day, Ryo asks him what he thinks of one of the more popular pornos, and Koyama laughs as he tells him he’s really never seen a single one of them. Ryo knows that Koyama has been buying all this porn for his friend, who he still hasn’t mentioned ever since Koyama disappeared on him, but still, porn is porn is porn, so why wouldn’t Koyama at least watch for himself before giving it away? It makes perfect sense to Ryo, since he certainly would’ve.
Koyama pauses, and just when Ryo is beginning to regret his question, again, Koyama looks away, “That’s not my type of porno.”
Ryo stares, “Not. Then what is? You mean you like more kinky stuff?”
Koyama splutters before his eyes flash to the very very back of the store. Ryo’s gaze follow the glance at the small homosexual porn section that only the bravest of horny men lurk. His eyes widen as he snaps them back to Koyama’s flushed face.
“Fuck,” Koyama grits out, and Ryo’s breath catches. He’s never heard the man swear before. “Shit,” Koyama buries his face in his hands, “Can we pretend you didn’t just notice that?”
Ryo swallows, and takes a second to think about how to respond. “To each his own,” Ryo ends up saying, and Koyama lets out a loud groan. At that moment, Ryo almost tells Koyama that sometimes Ryo takes them too, when there’s no one in the shop to catch him in the act.
In the end, Ryo tells him anyway, and Koyama only coughs violently before walking out the door.
When the next Tuesday rolls around, Ryo wonders if Koyama will show up. After all, he remembers all too well what happened the last time Ryo inquired about Koyama’s personal life, and the last thing he wants is for Koyama to leave again. But it takes only twenty minutes after the start of his shift for the door to open with that annoyingly familiar bell, and Ryo smiles as Koyama pops his head into the store, “Hey, Ryo-kun, could you help me with the door?”
Ryo raises a brow, but when he gets to the front, his eyes widen before he clumsily holds the door open so that Koyama can push the wheelchair in.
The man in the wheelchair glares halfheartedly at Ryo before glaring full out at Koyama, “I can’t believe you actually brought me here.”
Koyama pouts exaggeratedly, before flailing at all the porn surrounding them, “But you’re the one who kept complaining about my choice in porn! This way you can choose for yourself, and you’ll only have yourself to blame if you don’t like it!” The man grumbles nonsense syllables to himself before wheeling himself in the direction of the farthest aisle. Koyama turns to Ryo, “Hey Ryo-kun.” He looks around the empty shop, “Busy night?”
Ryo snorts and doesn’t bother replying, instead looking at the man studiously reading the back of every DVD case within his reach. “So this is…?” the friend, Ryo wants to say, but the words get entangled in his throat and he can’t quite force them out.
Koyama nods, biting his lip, and Ryo’s eyes follow the action, teeth over lip, teeth, lip. “I’ll explain later” he says softly, and Ryo’s brought back into reality once more. Ryo leans back behind the counter as he watches Koyama bound up to the man with a smile. He watches them call each other by cute nicknames, giggle at all the lame porn titles, and Ryo can’t help but notice that Koyama touches the man a lot (he’s never touched Ryo once; Ryo knows he would’ve remembered if Koyama had). As they make their way throughout the shop, the pair jokingly argue, their laughter ringing clear throughout the shop, and Ryo thinks even a deaf and blind person would be able to tell how close the two of them are.
When the man is done making his selection, Koyama wheels him to the counter, and the man hands Ryo the DVDs. Koyama places his hand on the man’s shoulder as the man pays for his porn (Ryo tries not to glare at the offending hand), and as soon as the man gets his change he only flushes as he mumbles a thanks and wheels himself out the door. Koyama walks behind him and waves a little with what appears to be a sad smile, perhaps the saddest smile Ryo has ever seen. It’s the most emotion Ryo has seen on anyone, he thinks, and certainly the most real expression Koyama has ever shown him.
Ryo wonders why he feels so jealous, of this man in a wheelchair who makes Koyama smile so sadly.
The Tuesday after he brings his friend, Koyama walks into the store with two white mocha lattes in hand. “A peace offering,” Koyama says, and Ryo only nods as he takes the steaming cup in hand. Ryo takes a deep sip; it burns his tongue and tastes too sweet, but he drinks it anyway.
Koyama stares into the white foam of his latte before clearing his throat, “Do you want the long version or the short one?” Ryo shrugs, and Koyama takes a deep breath. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” a shrill giggle escapes his tiny pink lips. Ryo tries to focus on the story instead.
“He’s my best friend,” Koyama says softly, “The best friend a guy could ever have. Sometimes it seems like we’ve known each other forever, Kato Shigeaki and I.” Koyama’s eyes are soft, and Ryo stores the name away for future reference. Kato. Kato, Koyama’s very best friend. But if the gentle expression on Koyama’s face is any indication, this Kato may be more than that, to Koyama at least. Ryo isn’t sure if he wants to think about it. “Um, so long story short, this one Friday there was a party at my colleague’s apartment and the two of us went…let’s just say we had a little too much to drink and by the time the party was over, we had no idea how we were going to go home.”
Something in Ryo’s stomach twitches, something scary and foreboding, and he thinks that this is turning out to be like a really bad soap, only it’s Koyama and his best friend and this is real, so real to him. “I suggested going to my place,” Koyama’s expression is scarily blank as he continues, “I lived about five minutes away by foot. It would’ve been so easy for the two of us to crash there, but Shige kept moaning and groaning about the distance and that he was lazy and he’d only go if I carried him there. Which wasn’t going to happen because I was just as drunk as he was, but then one of my sempais, who was probably drunker than we were combined, drove up to the curb beside us and honked at us.”
Koyama squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s replaying the memory in his head all over again, as if he has countless times, “‘Do you want a ride?’ my friend yelled…If I were sober,” Koyama’s voice falters for a second, “If I were sober, I would’ve made sure Shige didn’t accept. I would’ve said, no, Shige, you can’t get in the car with a drunk-ass driver, that’s the dumbest thing you could do.”
There is a long pause as Koyama takes a few shuddering breaths, “Instead,” he breathes through his nostrils, “Instead, all I remember is watching Shige enter the car with a stumble and just waving them goodbye without a second thought as the car raced off. I also remember taking thirty minutes to hobble back home, oh, and I remember throwing up in the morning,” Koyama’s laugh is sarcastic, angry at the world and at himself. Ryo has never heard anything like it. It is quite an ugly sound, especially considering the person who is making it is so very pretty.
“After that, it’s all a blur,” Koyama continues, “There was a frantic phone call and I rushed to the hospital and I know someone must have told me that Shige would never be able to walk again. That he was lucky to have survived the car accident at all. I know this must have happened, because I’ve been told that I fainted at the news, but…it’s really just a blur.” Koyama swallows.
The two of them sit in silence, their lattes colder and colder with each passing second. Just when Ryo thinks that maybe he should say something, Koyama slowly begins to sob, harsh violent sobs that wrack the thin frame of his body. “I, I can’t forgive myself,” Koyama chokes out, and Ryo doesn’t know why, but as he looks at Koyama break down in this rundown shop surrounded by porn, all he can think about is the fact that Koyama was, is, probably very much in love with this man. He’s not sure why he thinks it, but for some inexplicable reason, Ryo is pretty sure he’s right.
“You love him,” Ryo deadpans, and though outside he shows no emotion, inside he’s kicking himself in the face. Tact? Nishikido Ryo has none, never has. Right now though, he’s never wanted tact more.
Koyama looks at Ryo through bleary eyes, and just when Ryo is about to awkwardly change the subject, Koyama sighs, “Yes.”
Ryo hates the way his insides twist at that very word.
After another pause, Ryo opens his mouth and is unable to stem something he’s been wondering all evening. “Why did you tell me this?” Ryo asks, and as Koyama’s eyes flutter closed, he again wants to kick himself for his lack of delicacy.
Koyama cocks his head in contemplation, eyes still closed. “I guess it’s because I owe you.”
“Owe me?” Ryo repeats, but Koyama doesn’t respond. As Ryo gazes at Koyama’s lanky frame suspended frailly on the seat beside him, Ryo thinks that it should be the other way around, that he’s the one that owes Koyama.
Later than night, Koyama asks Ryo for his phone number, and though normally Ryo would’ve given it to him without a moment’s hesitation, now that he knows Koyama’s story, he isn’t so sure. Ryo can’t help but feel like there’s no way this would work. Koyama is clearly deep in love with his best friend, has so many personal demons, so much guilt that seems to envelop him in a suffocating way, and Ryo doesn’t know if there’s a place for him in all of Koyama’s emotional mess.
But, what Ryo does know is that he’s selfish, that he has been wanting this, something, anything with Koyama, since day one. He knows there are a million reasons why he shouldn’t do this, Koyama is too heart broken, Koyama is doing this to get over Kato, Koyama is an emotional fuck up, Koyama is too pretty for him. The list goes on and on and on.
He ends up giving his number to Koyama without a word. Even Koyama looks a little surprised.
“To think this all started with porn,” Koyama laughs awkwardly before he leaves, and Ryo doesn’t really know what to say in response. Koyama smiles shakily, and in that moment, Ryo pretends that there is hope for the two of them after all.
“To think,” Ryo replies, and Koyama looks at him one last time before walking out of the store.
Koyama invites him out to dinner the next day. Though he thinks he maybe shouldn’t, Ryo accepts.
AN:To everyone that anticipated this, I..I’m so sorry. I don’t even know.
ununoriginal wrote two remixes of this verse: here and here, which are both lovely!
Title: The Porn Shop
Pairing: Koyama x Ryo
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3900+
Notes: AU. Bizarre, even for my standards. The continuation of this drabble. zukkii, I am so very sorry.
Summary: Koyama buys porn every Tuesday during Ryo’s midnight shift.
The Porn Shop
When the bell chimes loosely through the midnight air, Ryo glances quickly at the man in front of the door before going back to his video game, “Welcome!”
The man nods in response as he eases his way through the aisles, deftly picking up a few titles even Ryo hasn’t seen before placing them on the counter. “How much?” the man asks, and Ryo starts at the smooth quality to his voice, and with a second glance, he takes in the slanted amber of the man’s eyes framed prettily by dark lashes.
“For three DVD’s? A thousand yen,” Ryo swallows. He’s seen all sorts of men walk into the store. Old men with probably no sex life and leery smiles. Shy boys, young boys, with geeky glasses and a stutter in their voices and a shuffle in their step. He’s seen guys like him, average twenty year olds bumbling around just looking for a quick fix late at night.
But never has he seen a man like this one. Tall, angular face, wispy hair and a rich soothing voice, nails neatly manicured as he presses the bill into Ryo’s hand, graceful tilt in his head and sway in his walk. He wears a neatly pressed coat and designer jeans, scarf wrapped carelessly around his long long neck. It fascinates him, this guy who totally does not belong with the other riff raff here.
Ryo wonders who this man is to walk into a porn shop so pathetic and rundown as this one.
A couple of days later, the same man walks into the store just as Ryo is about to finish his shift. Ryo bites his lip and looks at Yamapi behind the counter, who also seems transfixed with this mysterious man and his well kept appearance and firm glide to his step. Yamapi doesn’t even notice Ryo’s sudden hesitation to leave, when just a minute earlier he was complaining about how all he wanted to do was go home and drink an ice-cold beer.
Yamapi smiles extra brightly at the man when he comes up the counter, “Just the one DVD?”
“Just the one,” the man laughs, handing over some hundred yen coins. “My friend didn’t really like the last ones I got him.”
Ryo raises his brow just as Yamapi smirks, “Right. You’re saying these aren’t for you?”
The man grins and lets out a small giggle at Yamapi’s response, “I know you don’t believe me, but they really aren’t. My friend can’t come down here, so I said I’d do it for him.”
Yamapi chuckles, handing the man his change, “You must really like this guy.”
The man shrugs, and Ryo thinks he might be imagining the small blush that spreads across the man’s smooth cheeks, “You could say that.”
“Oi, Ryo.” Ryo snaps his head at Yamapi’s voice. “I thought you were dying to get out of here.”
Ryo glares as he quickly gathers the remainder of his things, “Shut up, douchebag. I’m going, I’m going.” With a huff, he storms out of the shop and into the chilly night air which envelops him like a glove. It makes him shudder a little.
He is half-tempted to wait around the entrance for another glimpse at the man, but then he clucks at himself with disgust. Ryo doesn’t know how this one man can interest him so much, and for no reason at all, really. He forces himself to walk briskly away, hands in his pockets and eyes staunchly focused in front of him.
He finds himself stuck at a stoplight, and he hates that his stomach twists extra hard when, a few seconds later, he glances to the side to find the man standing calmly next to him, eyes focused on the red light. The man looks down at Ryo beside him, and he smiles, “Thank you for your hard work.”
Ryo’s eyes widen and he barely opens his mouth to respond before the light turns green and the man walks ahead. Ryo tries to walk in step with the man, but after a minute, as the man pulls farther and farther ahead and away, Ryo gives up.
Sometimes, Ryo hates how short his legs are (but he hates the way his heart races at the sight of the man’s retreating back even more).
The man eventually develops a routine and comes by the shop every Tuesday night. Every Tuesday night during Ryo’s midnight shift. The man’s eyes light up when he sees Ryo now, something sparks and he smiles as he recognizes Ryo’s face. He smiles a little softer at Ryo, waves when he comes in. It’s these little things that has Ryo completely and utterly tongue-tied, and Ryo has never felt so much like a girl as he does in those moments. Every now and then, when the man gazes at the porn and tilts his head just so, Ryo really wants to ask the guy his name, but that’s a bit too creepy, even for Ryo.
One blustery Tuesday, the man walks in and Ryo realizes, with a start, that this is the first time the two of them are alone in the shop. The two of them and rows upon rows of porn. Ryo idly wonders if this is fate (and then hates himself for doing so).
For the first time, the man goes up to the counter empty-handed, “Do you have any recommendations?”
Ryo blinks, half at the question and half because they’ve never had a conversation beyond here’s your change. “I’m sorry?”
“Recommendations,” the man repeats with a smile, “Surely you’ve seen some of these. So which ones are the good ones?” Ryo points to the bestsellers rack, but before he can say anything the man shakes his head, “I got DVDs from that rack before; my friend thought they were stupid.”
With a raised brow, Ryo walks away from the counter and grabs some titles off the shelves, “Personally, I like these. But really, it depends on the person.”
“Thanks!” The man grins, shifting through the DVDs curiously.
Ryo looks at the pretty pretty man in front of him, “These really aren’t for you?” he asks, incredulousness laced in every word.
The man laughs, “What, you don’t believe me? Even after I said it last time?” Ryo flushes and is about to apologize but the man waves it off, “It really is just for a friend, really. He’s a horny bastard who can’t get laid, so he’s given me official porn duty.” The man shrugs and places the DVDs on the counter.
Ryo walks behind the counter, still a bit embarrassed that he was prying into a customer’s private life, “Why can’t he just get it himself?”
For a split second, the man’s face blanks, and it happens so rapidly that Ryo almost thinks that he imagined it. Then the man smiles extra wide, “I guess it’s because he’s lazy.”
“Lazy,” Ryo deadpans, but the man’s attention is already focused elsewhere, rummaging through his bag.
The man rummages a bit more. “A thousand yen, right?” he mutters, mostly to himself, Ryo thinks.
Ryo is tempted to say the DVDs are on him, but thankfully decides against it, “You’re some kind of friend, doing this just because of your friend’s laziness.”
At those words, the man pauses from triumphantly pulling out his wallet. “It’s because I’m not a good friend that I’m doing this for him,” he says cryptically, and Ryo can only fixate his eyes on the way the man’s Adam’s apple bobs up and down. It is in that moment, as Ryo watches something in the man’s eyes die, that Ryo wishes desperately that he could take his words back. But of course, it’s already too late, and the man leaves the store without another word.
And Ryo still doesn’t know his name.
Much to Ryo’s disappointment, though not to his great surprise, the man stops going to the porn shop. Weeks turn into a couple of months, and just as Ryo is beginning to think the man would never return (he still had had hope up until that point), Yamapi gives Ryo a frantic phone call.
“Please,” Yamapi begs, and Ryo just rolls his eyes as Yamapi continues to ramble, “Ryo-chan, this girl is SO hot and she has the greatest tits, man. Ryo, you want me to get laid, right? Don’t you? I do. I really do!” Ryo can’t believe Yamapi has such a hot date on a Monday night, but then again, it’s Yamapi he’s talking about. Sometimes it’s like Yamapi can do anything. “Please take my Monday shift! I will…buy you…stuff. Something, anything; what do you want?”
Ryo wants to say no, really wants to say no, but realistically, Ryo knows that his mystery man probably isn’t going to show up this Tuesday either. For a second, he almost wants to say he’ll take both Monday and Tuesday, but then Yamapi is going to ask why and he really doesn’t want to answer. So with a sigh, he agrees.
When Ryo arrives at the shop on Monday, he stops and stares at the very man he couldn’t stop wondering about browsing aisle three. The man stops and stares right back. Ryo coughs gruffly, “Yo.”
The man nods, not saying anything. He averts his eyes and quickly chooses three DVDs, and Ryo can practically taste the man’s reluctance to be in that store with Ryo. When the man goes to the counter, Ryo can’t stop the inquiry from escaping, “So you come on Mondays now?” He tries to sound neutral but Ryo knows that there’s a hurt tone to his voice, a deeper question hidden underneath.
The man still doesn’t say anything, and just when he’s about to leave, he pauses. The silence is stifling, and Ryo can’t help but be reminded of that last time they were in the shop together so many nights ago, when all Ryo could see was the man’s elegant back as he raced out the door.
“I said too much,” the man says quietly. Ryo thinks it’s ironic because to him, the man didn’t say nearly enough, or at least not enough for Ryo to understand.
“I didn’t mind,” Ryo says honestly. And he means it. When the man looks up and into Ryo’s eyes, Ryo wishes he knew what the man was thinking, as he looks at the unnamed emotion swimming heavily beneath the man’s single lids.
So the man starts coming back on Tuesday nights. And this time they talk. Never about this mysterious friend, but about almost everything else, or at least it seems that way. Sometimes no one else is in the shop and it’s just the two of them and their stories, and other times, customers mingle as Koyama sits behind the counter with Ryo and they converse in hushed tones. Either way, Ryo ends up learning more about this man more with each passing Tuesday, and he slowly becomes less mysterious to Ryo with every minute they talk with each other.
For instance, Ryo finally learns the man’s name. Koyama. Koyama Keiichiro, the man says with a smile, when Ryo stumblingly asks one day. He can barely get Nishikido Ryo to escape his lips when Koyama asks for his name back. Koyama Keiichiro. Koyama. Keiichiro. The name rings in Ryo’s ears for days after, and Ryo hates the giddiness that he feels whenever he thinks of the name.
He finds out Koyama’s a school teacher, apparently easy going and sometimes a pushover. He learns that Koyama goes to Karaoke a lot, likes to sing and dance in the privacy of his own home. Koyama is a religious viewer of daytime soaps and gets panic attacks when his cat gets sick. Ryo learns all of this and more as the two of them converse with each other, as Koyama spends more and more time every Tuesday in the old rickety porn shop that seems to be almost brighter with Koyama’s presence alone. Sometimes, Koyama brings food, since apparently Ryo eats too much junk food behind the counter. Ryo moans and groans about it each and every time, but really, as he eats the tofu salad, really he’s just happy that Koyama even notices.
One day, Ryo asks him what he thinks of one of the more popular pornos, and Koyama laughs as he tells him he’s really never seen a single one of them. Ryo knows that Koyama has been buying all this porn for his friend, who he still hasn’t mentioned ever since Koyama disappeared on him, but still, porn is porn is porn, so why wouldn’t Koyama at least watch for himself before giving it away? It makes perfect sense to Ryo, since he certainly would’ve.
Koyama pauses, and just when Ryo is beginning to regret his question, again, Koyama looks away, “That’s not my type of porno.”
Ryo stares, “Not. Then what is? You mean you like more kinky stuff?”
Koyama splutters before his eyes flash to the very very back of the store. Ryo’s gaze follow the glance at the small homosexual porn section that only the bravest of horny men lurk. His eyes widen as he snaps them back to Koyama’s flushed face.
“Fuck,” Koyama grits out, and Ryo’s breath catches. He’s never heard the man swear before. “Shit,” Koyama buries his face in his hands, “Can we pretend you didn’t just notice that?”
Ryo swallows, and takes a second to think about how to respond. “To each his own,” Ryo ends up saying, and Koyama lets out a loud groan. At that moment, Ryo almost tells Koyama that sometimes Ryo takes them too, when there’s no one in the shop to catch him in the act.
In the end, Ryo tells him anyway, and Koyama only coughs violently before walking out the door.
When the next Tuesday rolls around, Ryo wonders if Koyama will show up. After all, he remembers all too well what happened the last time Ryo inquired about Koyama’s personal life, and the last thing he wants is for Koyama to leave again. But it takes only twenty minutes after the start of his shift for the door to open with that annoyingly familiar bell, and Ryo smiles as Koyama pops his head into the store, “Hey, Ryo-kun, could you help me with the door?”
Ryo raises a brow, but when he gets to the front, his eyes widen before he clumsily holds the door open so that Koyama can push the wheelchair in.
The man in the wheelchair glares halfheartedly at Ryo before glaring full out at Koyama, “I can’t believe you actually brought me here.”
Koyama pouts exaggeratedly, before flailing at all the porn surrounding them, “But you’re the one who kept complaining about my choice in porn! This way you can choose for yourself, and you’ll only have yourself to blame if you don’t like it!” The man grumbles nonsense syllables to himself before wheeling himself in the direction of the farthest aisle. Koyama turns to Ryo, “Hey Ryo-kun.” He looks around the empty shop, “Busy night?”
Ryo snorts and doesn’t bother replying, instead looking at the man studiously reading the back of every DVD case within his reach. “So this is…?” the friend, Ryo wants to say, but the words get entangled in his throat and he can’t quite force them out.
Koyama nods, biting his lip, and Ryo’s eyes follow the action, teeth over lip, teeth, lip. “I’ll explain later” he says softly, and Ryo’s brought back into reality once more. Ryo leans back behind the counter as he watches Koyama bound up to the man with a smile. He watches them call each other by cute nicknames, giggle at all the lame porn titles, and Ryo can’t help but notice that Koyama touches the man a lot (he’s never touched Ryo once; Ryo knows he would’ve remembered if Koyama had). As they make their way throughout the shop, the pair jokingly argue, their laughter ringing clear throughout the shop, and Ryo thinks even a deaf and blind person would be able to tell how close the two of them are.
When the man is done making his selection, Koyama wheels him to the counter, and the man hands Ryo the DVDs. Koyama places his hand on the man’s shoulder as the man pays for his porn (Ryo tries not to glare at the offending hand), and as soon as the man gets his change he only flushes as he mumbles a thanks and wheels himself out the door. Koyama walks behind him and waves a little with what appears to be a sad smile, perhaps the saddest smile Ryo has ever seen. It’s the most emotion Ryo has seen on anyone, he thinks, and certainly the most real expression Koyama has ever shown him.
Ryo wonders why he feels so jealous, of this man in a wheelchair who makes Koyama smile so sadly.
The Tuesday after he brings his friend, Koyama walks into the store with two white mocha lattes in hand. “A peace offering,” Koyama says, and Ryo only nods as he takes the steaming cup in hand. Ryo takes a deep sip; it burns his tongue and tastes too sweet, but he drinks it anyway.
Koyama stares into the white foam of his latte before clearing his throat, “Do you want the long version or the short one?” Ryo shrugs, and Koyama takes a deep breath. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” a shrill giggle escapes his tiny pink lips. Ryo tries to focus on the story instead.
“He’s my best friend,” Koyama says softly, “The best friend a guy could ever have. Sometimes it seems like we’ve known each other forever, Kato Shigeaki and I.” Koyama’s eyes are soft, and Ryo stores the name away for future reference. Kato. Kato, Koyama’s very best friend. But if the gentle expression on Koyama’s face is any indication, this Kato may be more than that, to Koyama at least. Ryo isn’t sure if he wants to think about it. “Um, so long story short, this one Friday there was a party at my colleague’s apartment and the two of us went…let’s just say we had a little too much to drink and by the time the party was over, we had no idea how we were going to go home.”
Something in Ryo’s stomach twitches, something scary and foreboding, and he thinks that this is turning out to be like a really bad soap, only it’s Koyama and his best friend and this is real, so real to him. “I suggested going to my place,” Koyama’s expression is scarily blank as he continues, “I lived about five minutes away by foot. It would’ve been so easy for the two of us to crash there, but Shige kept moaning and groaning about the distance and that he was lazy and he’d only go if I carried him there. Which wasn’t going to happen because I was just as drunk as he was, but then one of my sempais, who was probably drunker than we were combined, drove up to the curb beside us and honked at us.”
Koyama squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s replaying the memory in his head all over again, as if he has countless times, “‘Do you want a ride?’ my friend yelled…If I were sober,” Koyama’s voice falters for a second, “If I were sober, I would’ve made sure Shige didn’t accept. I would’ve said, no, Shige, you can’t get in the car with a drunk-ass driver, that’s the dumbest thing you could do.”
There is a long pause as Koyama takes a few shuddering breaths, “Instead,” he breathes through his nostrils, “Instead, all I remember is watching Shige enter the car with a stumble and just waving them goodbye without a second thought as the car raced off. I also remember taking thirty minutes to hobble back home, oh, and I remember throwing up in the morning,” Koyama’s laugh is sarcastic, angry at the world and at himself. Ryo has never heard anything like it. It is quite an ugly sound, especially considering the person who is making it is so very pretty.
“After that, it’s all a blur,” Koyama continues, “There was a frantic phone call and I rushed to the hospital and I know someone must have told me that Shige would never be able to walk again. That he was lucky to have survived the car accident at all. I know this must have happened, because I’ve been told that I fainted at the news, but…it’s really just a blur.” Koyama swallows.
The two of them sit in silence, their lattes colder and colder with each passing second. Just when Ryo thinks that maybe he should say something, Koyama slowly begins to sob, harsh violent sobs that wrack the thin frame of his body. “I, I can’t forgive myself,” Koyama chokes out, and Ryo doesn’t know why, but as he looks at Koyama break down in this rundown shop surrounded by porn, all he can think about is the fact that Koyama was, is, probably very much in love with this man. He’s not sure why he thinks it, but for some inexplicable reason, Ryo is pretty sure he’s right.
“You love him,” Ryo deadpans, and though outside he shows no emotion, inside he’s kicking himself in the face. Tact? Nishikido Ryo has none, never has. Right now though, he’s never wanted tact more.
Koyama looks at Ryo through bleary eyes, and just when Ryo is about to awkwardly change the subject, Koyama sighs, “Yes.”
Ryo hates the way his insides twist at that very word.
After another pause, Ryo opens his mouth and is unable to stem something he’s been wondering all evening. “Why did you tell me this?” Ryo asks, and as Koyama’s eyes flutter closed, he again wants to kick himself for his lack of delicacy.
Koyama cocks his head in contemplation, eyes still closed. “I guess it’s because I owe you.”
“Owe me?” Ryo repeats, but Koyama doesn’t respond. As Ryo gazes at Koyama’s lanky frame suspended frailly on the seat beside him, Ryo thinks that it should be the other way around, that he’s the one that owes Koyama.
Later than night, Koyama asks Ryo for his phone number, and though normally Ryo would’ve given it to him without a moment’s hesitation, now that he knows Koyama’s story, he isn’t so sure. Ryo can’t help but feel like there’s no way this would work. Koyama is clearly deep in love with his best friend, has so many personal demons, so much guilt that seems to envelop him in a suffocating way, and Ryo doesn’t know if there’s a place for him in all of Koyama’s emotional mess.
But, what Ryo does know is that he’s selfish, that he has been wanting this, something, anything with Koyama, since day one. He knows there are a million reasons why he shouldn’t do this, Koyama is too heart broken, Koyama is doing this to get over Kato, Koyama is an emotional fuck up, Koyama is too pretty for him. The list goes on and on and on.
He ends up giving his number to Koyama without a word. Even Koyama looks a little surprised.
“To think this all started with porn,” Koyama laughs awkwardly before he leaves, and Ryo doesn’t really know what to say in response. Koyama smiles shakily, and in that moment, Ryo pretends that there is hope for the two of them after all.
“To think,” Ryo replies, and Koyama looks at him one last time before walking out of the store.
Koyama invites him out to dinner the next day. Though he thinks he maybe shouldn’t, Ryo accepts.
AN:To everyone that anticipated this, I..I’m so sorry. I don’t even know.
ununoriginal wrote two remixes of this verse: here and here, which are both lovely!