[Fic] Reunion
Ok, I know the lighter pic from the other day's already been fic-ed but this is my spin on it. Sorry!
Title: Reunion
Rating: Worksafe, apart from the one moment half way through
Summary: Tuti's late to rehearsal and Nagayama hasn't seen him for five days, seven hours and thirty three thirty four minutes.
Notes: Entirely the fault of Kooriyoukai for comments made during Friday's chat ^_~ Oh and Tuti and Nagayama for posting this picture in the first place!
Nagayama knows he’s currently very highly strung, no normal person should be able to feel their watch ticking after all, but it’s been five days, seven hours and thirty three… no, make that thirty four minutes since they parted company and he’s never been very good at waiting.
It doesn’t help that Tuti’s late.
Four musicals (or is it five?) and a live - Nagayama can hear the perfectly rational internal voice telling him that after working with Tuti for this long, he should be well acquainted with the man’s habits. And he is. And he also knows that towards the end of the last Tenimyu run the reason for Tuti being late in the mornings was him.
But that’s not the case today. Today he’s already here. Today he’s the one waiting, deliberately squishing himself into an uncomfortable chair because it’s the one with the best view of the dressing room door. His phone is in his hands and it’s a sign of how tense he is that he keeps turning it over and over. There hasn’t been a message, obviously, because Tuti being late is normal.
It’s normal. Everyone knows that. So why can’t he relax?
Because it’s been five days, seven hours and thirty six minutes since they said goodnight and he seems to have turned into a lovesick schoolgirl in those few days?
Because it doesn’t matter what happens or what’s said, he always has that nagging little voice in the back of his head telling him that one day Tuti’s going to find someone as hyperactive, insane and loud as he is and run off with them?
Because he’s just a little bit afraid that Tuti being late isn’t due to him wanting to make an entrance or being too lazy to get himself there on time despite getting up early enough, but because he’s got something more important than a certain co-star on his mind?
It’s stupid. He’s being stupid. Tuti isn’t even that late anyway, not by his standards and…
The door is thrown open, accompanied by a cheery ‘morning!’ that can realistically only come from one person on the face of the planet.
There are no choirs of angels and time doesn’t slow to a halt as Tuti breezes into the room, eyes locking on Nagayama as soon as it’s physically possible. The world doesn’t suddenly take on a rosy-glow and Nagayama’s fairly sure that if there is a fanfare of trumpets, then there must be an orchestra rehearsing somewhere nearby. No one proclaims world peace, petals definitely do not cascade from the grey ceiling and the sun doesn’t rise in a riot of gold and orange.
What does happen is far less dramatic, far more ordinary and far, far louder.
‘Tuti!’
Nagayama’s on his feet before the door can return to its normal place and he knows there’s a goofy grin on his face, which is matched by a similar expression on Tuti. The new arrival loses his bag, coat and miscellaneous other belongings in the time it takes Nagayama to bound across the room to him and claim a hug that’s just a fraction too long to be shared by friends. The first word out of Tuti’s mouth is his name and then they’re both talking, laughing, shoving each other playfully and manoeuvring themselves out of the room before the rest of the cast can so much as say ‘good morning’.
The corridor outside is quiet, empty and it’s only because of this that Nagayama can justify brushing a hint of a kiss against Tuti’s badly shaven cheek as they share another hug. ‘You’re late,’ he reminds the other man, smacking him on the arm.
‘Sorry Takashi, traffic and all that,’ grins Tuti, leaning back against a handy wall and toying with Nagayama’s phone that has somehow ended up in his hands.
Rolling his eyes, despite returning the grin, Nagayama forgets what he was going to say when he catches a faint hint of an irritatingly familiar smell. ‘It wasn’t the traffic! You’ve been standing outside smoking, haven’t you?’
‘Just the one!’ protests Tuti but Nagayama’s already lunging forward to administer a suitable punishment.
With his left arm pinned against the wall and his right hand still cradling his boyfriend’s phone, there isn’t much Tuti can do to stop Nagayama rifling through his pockets. Not that he objects when the searching hand stops patting the front of his jacket and moves down to his jeans.
‘Takashi! Not in public,’ Tuti hisses as a smirking Nagayama slips his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Even though he’s fairly sure the rest of the cast know about them, it wouldn’t really be done for one of the producers to walk round the corner and see one of their actors feeling up the other. The fact that Nagayama’s so close Tuti can feel his boyfriend’s hot breath on his neck makes it difficult for him to not look down at the very familiar expression he knows is there but the ceiling doesn’t provide much of a distraction and there’s now no more than a few rather pathetic centimetres between their bodies. Somehow Nagayama’s managed to get a foot between his, his knee following suit so that Tuti has to inch his own legs further apart and to the uninitiated eyes of… well, anyone it is a very compromising position.
‘Takashi,’ Tuti groans, willing away thoughts that are telling him how easy it would be for him to pin the other man against the wall instead.
Nagayama’s still grinning, he doesn’t need to glance down to confirm that, but he does when Nagayama’s fingers slip into one of the front pockets on his jeans. ‘What the - ’ he yelps, but breaks off when he sees what has finally ended the search.
Twirling between Nagayama’s fingers is his lighter.
Relieved to find that he can breath again, Tuti finds himself laughing again, ‘That’s what you were looking for? You could have just asked, Takashi.’
Nagayama grins back, ‘More fun this way. Phone?’
Tuti blinks dumbly.
‘My phone. You’ve still got it and I want to take a picture for my blog.’
Handing the required gadget over, Tuti’s a little surprised when Nagayama yanks him away from the wall. ‘You too.’
‘Eh?’
‘Be in the photo with me.’
‘What’s my lighter for?’ Tuti asks, sneakily slipping his arm round Nagayama’s waist while the other actor is distracted by both his phone and the lighter.
‘It’s almost the end of the year,’ explained Nagayama as he struggled to get a spark out of the lighter. ‘So this is the flame of 2005 and… what? Look, just let me be poetic if I want to, ok?’
Tuti grinned, only this time he directed it towards the phone as it clicked and whirred.
‘There,’ Nagayama stuck the phone under Tuti’s nose a second later to show off the picture of them and the lighter. ‘Perfect.’
Tuti frowned at the image, ‘Try not to make it too obvious, will you Takashi?’
Nagayama smiled serenely, a perfect image of innocence as he answered, ‘Don’t make what obvious?’
Tuti grabbed hold of the hand that was still in his jeans pocket despite having deposited the lighter a whole half a minute ago. ‘You know what.’
End
Title: Reunion
Rating: Worksafe, apart from the one moment half way through
Summary: Tuti's late to rehearsal and Nagayama hasn't seen him for five days, seven hours and thirty three thirty four minutes.
Notes: Entirely the fault of Kooriyoukai for comments made during Friday's chat ^_~ Oh and Tuti and Nagayama for posting this picture in the first place!
Nagayama knows he’s currently very highly strung, no normal person should be able to feel their watch ticking after all, but it’s been five days, seven hours and thirty three… no, make that thirty four minutes since they parted company and he’s never been very good at waiting.
It doesn’t help that Tuti’s late.
Four musicals (or is it five?) and a live - Nagayama can hear the perfectly rational internal voice telling him that after working with Tuti for this long, he should be well acquainted with the man’s habits. And he is. And he also knows that towards the end of the last Tenimyu run the reason for Tuti being late in the mornings was him.
But that’s not the case today. Today he’s already here. Today he’s the one waiting, deliberately squishing himself into an uncomfortable chair because it’s the one with the best view of the dressing room door. His phone is in his hands and it’s a sign of how tense he is that he keeps turning it over and over. There hasn’t been a message, obviously, because Tuti being late is normal.
It’s normal. Everyone knows that. So why can’t he relax?
Because it’s been five days, seven hours and thirty six minutes since they said goodnight and he seems to have turned into a lovesick schoolgirl in those few days?
Because it doesn’t matter what happens or what’s said, he always has that nagging little voice in the back of his head telling him that one day Tuti’s going to find someone as hyperactive, insane and loud as he is and run off with them?
Because he’s just a little bit afraid that Tuti being late isn’t due to him wanting to make an entrance or being too lazy to get himself there on time despite getting up early enough, but because he’s got something more important than a certain co-star on his mind?
It’s stupid. He’s being stupid. Tuti isn’t even that late anyway, not by his standards and…
The door is thrown open, accompanied by a cheery ‘morning!’ that can realistically only come from one person on the face of the planet.
There are no choirs of angels and time doesn’t slow to a halt as Tuti breezes into the room, eyes locking on Nagayama as soon as it’s physically possible. The world doesn’t suddenly take on a rosy-glow and Nagayama’s fairly sure that if there is a fanfare of trumpets, then there must be an orchestra rehearsing somewhere nearby. No one proclaims world peace, petals definitely do not cascade from the grey ceiling and the sun doesn’t rise in a riot of gold and orange.
What does happen is far less dramatic, far more ordinary and far, far louder.
‘Tuti!’
Nagayama’s on his feet before the door can return to its normal place and he knows there’s a goofy grin on his face, which is matched by a similar expression on Tuti. The new arrival loses his bag, coat and miscellaneous other belongings in the time it takes Nagayama to bound across the room to him and claim a hug that’s just a fraction too long to be shared by friends. The first word out of Tuti’s mouth is his name and then they’re both talking, laughing, shoving each other playfully and manoeuvring themselves out of the room before the rest of the cast can so much as say ‘good morning’.
The corridor outside is quiet, empty and it’s only because of this that Nagayama can justify brushing a hint of a kiss against Tuti’s badly shaven cheek as they share another hug. ‘You’re late,’ he reminds the other man, smacking him on the arm.
‘Sorry Takashi, traffic and all that,’ grins Tuti, leaning back against a handy wall and toying with Nagayama’s phone that has somehow ended up in his hands.
Rolling his eyes, despite returning the grin, Nagayama forgets what he was going to say when he catches a faint hint of an irritatingly familiar smell. ‘It wasn’t the traffic! You’ve been standing outside smoking, haven’t you?’
‘Just the one!’ protests Tuti but Nagayama’s already lunging forward to administer a suitable punishment.
With his left arm pinned against the wall and his right hand still cradling his boyfriend’s phone, there isn’t much Tuti can do to stop Nagayama rifling through his pockets. Not that he objects when the searching hand stops patting the front of his jacket and moves down to his jeans.
‘Takashi! Not in public,’ Tuti hisses as a smirking Nagayama slips his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. Even though he’s fairly sure the rest of the cast know about them, it wouldn’t really be done for one of the producers to walk round the corner and see one of their actors feeling up the other. The fact that Nagayama’s so close Tuti can feel his boyfriend’s hot breath on his neck makes it difficult for him to not look down at the very familiar expression he knows is there but the ceiling doesn’t provide much of a distraction and there’s now no more than a few rather pathetic centimetres between their bodies. Somehow Nagayama’s managed to get a foot between his, his knee following suit so that Tuti has to inch his own legs further apart and to the uninitiated eyes of… well, anyone it is a very compromising position.
‘Takashi,’ Tuti groans, willing away thoughts that are telling him how easy it would be for him to pin the other man against the wall instead.
Nagayama’s still grinning, he doesn’t need to glance down to confirm that, but he does when Nagayama’s fingers slip into one of the front pockets on his jeans. ‘What the - ’ he yelps, but breaks off when he sees what has finally ended the search.
Twirling between Nagayama’s fingers is his lighter.
Relieved to find that he can breath again, Tuti finds himself laughing again, ‘That’s what you were looking for? You could have just asked, Takashi.’
Nagayama grins back, ‘More fun this way. Phone?’
Tuti blinks dumbly.
‘My phone. You’ve still got it and I want to take a picture for my blog.’
Handing the required gadget over, Tuti’s a little surprised when Nagayama yanks him away from the wall. ‘You too.’
‘Eh?’
‘Be in the photo with me.’
‘What’s my lighter for?’ Tuti asks, sneakily slipping his arm round Nagayama’s waist while the other actor is distracted by both his phone and the lighter.
‘It’s almost the end of the year,’ explained Nagayama as he struggled to get a spark out of the lighter. ‘So this is the flame of 2005 and… what? Look, just let me be poetic if I want to, ok?’
Tuti grinned, only this time he directed it towards the phone as it clicked and whirred.
‘There,’ Nagayama stuck the phone under Tuti’s nose a second later to show off the picture of them and the lighter. ‘Perfect.’
Tuti frowned at the image, ‘Try not to make it too obvious, will you Takashi?’
Nagayama smiled serenely, a perfect image of innocence as he answered, ‘Don’t make what obvious?’
Tuti grabbed hold of the hand that was still in his jeans pocket despite having deposited the lighter a whole half a minute ago. ‘You know what.’
End