Fic: Study
Title: Study
Author: Dria (yes, me again)
Rating: R
Length: 4,074 words
Beta: kooriyoukai who is also responsible for half the dialogue in the last thousand words and my favourite line in the entire fic ("So is that what you call those awful shirts, your mating plumage?")
Summary: Introspection on Nagayan's side about Tuti, himself and their relationship leads to some confessions on both sides and a bit of gratuitious kissing, groping and stripping.
The guy’s a fidget, incapable of sitting still for longer than three minutes together and always, regardless of the situation, needing to do something with his hands. Right now those hands are wrapped round a piece of fruit. Fingers skim over unblemished skin to the stalk, which is twisted and twisted until it snaps off and he throws it over his shoulder.
Easily discarded like anything else that doesn’t catch his flickering attention.
Rolling it now between his palms as though it’s a ball of dough to be moulded, he continues to fidget. He’s talking animatedly and yet still the piece of fruit gets abused, once again prompting Nagayama to tell himself that he is going to buy Tuti a stress ball. This time he means it, at the very least to save the contents of his fruit bowl from a pummelling every time Tuti comes over.
There’s a pause, the hands still, one even retreats a little way and just when Nagayama thinks Tuti’s finally got his bad habit under control, the piece of fruit flies out of his hand and lands in the other.
Nagayama can’t help it, he rolls his eyes.
The flying fruit soars helplessly through the air from one hand to the other, each time having to travel a little further to reach its destination. Whatever it is that Tuti’s talking about (Nagayama tuned out a while ago) is getting him more excited. The fruit flies faster and Nagayama knows that at some point Tuti’s going to miss and then it’ll go splat on his floor and guess who’ll get stuck with the job of cleaning it up?
Tuti’s always been like this for as long as Nagayama’s known him, which is, he’s half-surprised to admit, quite a long period of time now. That first meeting feels like decades ago and while Tuti’s grown and changed in a number of ways since then (some more unexpected than others) some of the man’s habits haven’t altered a bit.
At least, Nagayama tells himself, Tuti isn’t going for his cigarette packet.
That’s one bad habit Nagayama wishes Tuti would quit even though he knows exactly why he can’t. While many would look at loud, confident Tsuchiya Yuichi, the man who can’t help but yell random phrases at rehearsals, will barge shamelessly into any conversation and who will show off given half a chance, and think that he’s someone who doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘nervous’… Those are the people who’ve never watched him practice and practice for hours at a time until he’s covered in bruises and every muscle he possesses is aching just so he can get a particular move spot on. Those are the people who’ve never seen Tuti half an hour before a performance starts when he’s obnoxiously loud and tactless to boot. Those are the people who’ve never noticed the bitterness in his voice when he berates his own performance afterwards, mercilessly picking it apart and passing off any success as being down to other people’s hard work.
And they’re probably also the people Tuti’s trying hardest to impress.
Nagayama knows that he made the same mistake himself when he first met Tuti. He thought that Tuti was one of those people who could be summed up in a sentence; someone who was open, friendly, loud and confident. It had come as something of a surprise to discover that he was wrong, that as expressive as that familiar face is capable of being, it can be a mask, a shield more often than a window. Nagayama’s occasionally mused that all people may be like that, that no one is an open book unless they actively choose to be and even then only to certain people.
But Tuti is capable of being more closed than most. There’s things he won’t talk about, things that he’ll ignore no matter how many times you ask him for an explanation, things that he’d rather just forget by getting drunk with the other *pnish* members than discuss and deal with. He’s not always like that and certainly not to the extent where Nagayama gets seriously worried about his best friend, but it doesn’t stop him wishing that there was more he could do to help because it feels wrong somehow, to have to admit that there are times when Tuti needs someone else to make him forget.
Nagayama, for his own part, knows that he likes to feel needed. He’s so used to feeling competent, independent and in control that any suggestion from someone as important to him as Tuti is that this may not be the case is guaranteed to send him into a bad mood. Consequently, seeing Tuti post stupid pictures on the *pnish* practice diary of him holding a large glass of wine while Eiji pulls dumb faces over his shoulder is not something Nagayama likes to see first thing in the morning. Nor is finding a text message from Daiki telling him, in a genuinely friendly if slightly inebriated way, that Tuti’s upset about something but that alcohol will cure all his ills. “Don’t worry,” read the most recent one of these messages. “We pnish members look after each other!” And so they do, leaving Nagayama to wonder why Tuti bothers keeping him around when he’s got three other guys to lean on for drunken emotional support.
Of course, he knows why he and Tuti still hang around each other, it’s more or less obligatory when you’re dating and (more often than not) sleeping together. But that doesn’t answer the irritating questions about why Tuti will still sometimes go to the other *pnish* members and not Nagayama. Maybe it’s because Nagayama grew out of the habit of drowning his problems about the same time he realised his alcohol tolerance was practically non-existent, or possibly it’s the thought that Tuti might be complaining about him to the other three and Nagayama never could bear the thought of other people knowing details concerning his relationships.
That’s one of the other strange things about Tuti - his bizarre habit for openness even when he’s such a private person. His blog is a joke and one that Nagayama teases him about constantly. The random post about his lost bike or the one about the possibility of an enforced haircut say so much about the scattered nature of Tuti’s way of thinking and yet so little about what actually goes through his head. It’s so open and honest and so recognisably “Tuti” that sometimes it scares Nagayama, making him wonder if one day he’ll go check the site and find a post in which Tuti confesses something that really should remain private.
Or whether one day he’ll find something that doesn’t fit and he’ll be forced to admit that the person he’s dating is no more real than the image presented by Tuti through *pnish*.
‘You do realise you’re pouting don’t you?’
It’s the sudden change of Tuti’s voice, from rambling to direct, rather than what Tuti actually says that snaps Nagayama’s attention away from the still flying piece of fruit. The words take a moment to penetrate and when they do, Nagayama merely blinks in confusion. ‘I’m what?’
Tuti rolls his eyes and throws the bruised apple from one hand to the other again. ‘You’re pouting.’ Tuti points out, his familiar smirk sliding across his face just as easily as usual and with a finality in his voice that makes it clear that such an expression on Nagayama’s face is clearly important and significant and… Typical Tuti.
‘Well anyone would pout if they had to listen to you rambling all afternoon.’
‘You’re the one who invited me over,’ Tuti’s head tilts to one side, the apple goes flying again and Nagayama tries really hard not to pout (again).
‘Yeah I know,’ and somehow a sigh slips out though Nagayama’s not sure where it came from.
Tuti’s stopped smirking by now. He’s even put the apple down and his hands are still for what is possibly the first time since he entered the apartment an hour and a half ago. ‘Ok, what’d I do wrong this time?’
‘Nothing,’ startled by the bluntness of the question, Nagayama knows his pout or frown or whatever his face is doing has vanished.
‘You’re pouting,’ the finality is back. ‘Therefore I’ve done something haven’t I?’
‘You…’
Denial would be easy and for a moment Nagayama almost takes the coward’s way out because anything else would at the very least mean admitting he hadn’t been listening to Tuti’s conversation for a while and for all the nonsense he talks, Tuti doesn’t like to feel unheard, much less deliberately ignored.
‘You…’
But there’s a reason why lying is easy and telling the truth isn’t. There’s a reason why Nagayama hides his private fears under many layers of image, poise and hard work. He’s always tried to avoid lying to Tuti in the past but he knows there are definitely times when he hasn’t been entirely honest either.
‘You…’
The truth is Tuti hasn’t done anything. Not this time. Not for a long time. Nagayama’s well aware that the fault is probably on his side, that he should be more trusting and accepting and allow himself to admit that of course he can’t control and dominate and take over every part of Tuti’s life. After all, Tuti’s never stopped him from having his own friends, has he? Tuti’s never pouted when he’s had to postpone dinner because of some other engagement that is harder to break than the one with his boyfriend. But then that’s just the point, isn’t it? Nagayama doesn’t have a relationship with anyone the way Tuti relates to the other *pnish* members. He’s always been a one-off, an individual mapping out his own highly varied career path. He likes it that way, wouldn’t change it for anything, but sometimes… sometimes he does get jealous of the way Tuti can sit back and let Daiki, Eiji and Washio pick up the slack. Tuti gets to be the silly joker of the pack with minimal responsibility apart from what he deliberately pulls onto his own shoulders. Tuti has a freedom that Nagayama never will.
And three best friends to boot.
Nagayama’s lost track of what Tuti’s original question was, he’s forgotten where his train of thought started and now is only aware of the station full of absent friends and lost contacts who all could have been nurtured into something more enduring if he’d had the time or inclination.
So when he suddenly realises that Tuti’s fingers are running lightly over his cheek he’s can’t help but be taken aback. When those fingers slide round to the back of his head, messing up his hair and tickling him so he can’t care, he can only blink as Tuti’s face moves closer. A soft caress of a kiss, delivered more gently than most people would give Tuti credit for, is pressed against his mouth and he automatically parts his lips, knowing exactly where this should lead because how many times have they gone through this now?
But the follow up action, the expected flicker of Tuti’s tongue and the warmth of the other man’s mouth doesn’t come. Instead a whisper of air brushes over Nagayama’s damp lips and he’s left to open his eyes again even though Tuti’s fingers are still idly running up and down the back of his neck.
‘You’ve been thinking again haven’t you?’ the tone is teasing and mildly accusing, Tuti’s smirk less definite than usual though quite definitely present.
‘Sorry.’
It’s an automatic apology and only succeeds in making Tuti frown rather than giving the smile of relief Nagayama finds he was hoping for.
‘You know… you worry me when you go quiet like that. Makes me wonder if some day I’m going to stop talking, look round and find you’re not there anymore.’ Tuti’s voice is still light and teasing but his fingers have stopped tickling Nagayama’s neck. Nagayama can feel the slight pressure of short nails pressing against the sensitive skin of his hairline and knows Tuti’s making a confession even if the words themselves don’t particularly surprise him.
‘I am sorry.’
Continuing as though Nagayama hasn’t said a word, Tuti gives his own, unique apologetic grin. ‘I know Eiji teases us, saying that I do all the talking and you do all the thinking, but that doesn’t mean you have to let me. Talk, I mean. I’ll ramble on to fill any silence, you know that, and if you want me to shut up, you just have to tell me.’
‘It doesn’t irritate me it’s just…’ and for a moment Nagayama has to pause because he doesn’t know quite how to explain what the problem is. Hell, he’s not sure he knows what the problem is. ‘Sometimes it’s like that’s all I am; someone for you to talk at. Makes me wonder why you need me when you’ve got Eiji, Daiki and Washio.’
‘You are kidding right?’ and the grin’s half back. ‘Those guys don’t listen! They talk over me and tease me and don’t let me go on for more than two minutes at a time. And besides you… hey,’ Tuti’s head jerks back a bit and he gives Nagayama an appraising look. ‘You’re not jealous are you?’
Nagayama snorts, ‘Like I’d be jealous of those three dorks.’
‘Good because as great as those three are, and they are, don’t get me wrong; I can honestly say I’m not in love with any of them.’
Whatever expression falls onto Nagayama’s face at those words is enough to make Tuti grin properly for what could be the first time all afternoon. ‘Err… I forgot to say that before didn’t I?’ and Tuti’s looking sheepish and pleased and more than a little nervous as a blush Nagayama doesn’t remember seeing in a while spreads across his face.
The shrug when it comes is awkward seeing as one of Tuti’s hands is still curled round the back of Nagayama’s head and if Tuti knelt any further forward on the one knee he’s risen up off the floor to balance on he’d fall into Nagayama’s lap. The idea of Tuti being out of control, even for a moment, is bizarrely appealing even as most of Nagayama’s brain is trying to process what he’s just heard. Ok, so they’ve been sleeping together for eight months and dating for possibly twice as long as that (Nagayama can’t actually remember when the friendly going out for drinks or dinner for two started counting as proper dates) but there are some words he’s never heard Tuti say.
Until now that is.
And now it’s his turn; his turn to speak or to act or to do something because Tuti’s watching him, waiting expectantly for some kind of answer to the unasked question.
‘Well… maybe I do get jealous when the guy I love would rather spend time with his friends than me.’ The admission is quiet and Nagayama isn’t entirely sure he’s actually managed to say it aloud until his back hits the floor and he can feel Tuti’s weight resting awkwardly on top of him. ‘Idiot, you’re heavy,’ he gasps, hands pushing roughly at Tuti’s chest but somehow doing more to hike up Tuti’s t-shirt than to shift the weight on top of him.
Tuti, for his part, doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The smile on his face says enough. Says everything that could possibly need to be said and far more besides. In fact it isn’t just a smile or a smirk, it’s a face-splitting grin that takes on a mischievous quality when his hips press against Nagayama’s, a grin that can’t vanish completely even when he lowers his head and presses a hungry kiss against Nagayama’s waiting, open mouth. There’s no careful, tender restraint this time and only when the weight of Tuti pressing down on his chest starts to make it impossible to draw breath, does Nagayama protest.
‘Idiot,’ he reprimands again, grinning back and making the most of Tuti’s moment of half-dazed recovery to give him a push. Obediently taking the hint, Tuti rolls off him, onto his own back, tugging Nagayama after him until their roles are reversed and it’s Nagayama who is straddling Tuti.
The grin is still plastered across Tuti’s face, surprised, dazed, but visible and Nagayama allows himself a moment to admire it, knowing that he put it there, that despite all the jealousies and doubts, he’s capable of producing this result so easily.
Tuti squirms briefly under him. ‘What?’
Nagayama gives a shake of his head. ‘I was just thinking how lucky I am.’
‘Not jealous?’ a cheeky grin spreads across Tuti’s face as he tucks one arm back under his head to cushion it and slips the other under Nagayama’s t-shirt, fingers brushing over the bare skin hiding there.
‘You kidding?’ Tipping himself forward, Nagayama shifts his weight to his elbows and knees, mouth hovering a mere inch from Tuti’s smirk. ‘Not now. No.’
‘Good,’ and with that one word Tuti closes the last gap between them.
When they break apart, panting, hair dishevelled and considerably closer to the wall than they’d started off being (but with Nagayama still comfortably on top of Tuti) it’s Tuti who stops the second round of kissing with a finger to Nagayama’s lips.
‘What?’ Nagayama consoles himself with kissing the digit instead, half-tempted to lick the fingertip in a way that he knows will make Tuti squirm but restraining himself because there’s a slightly uncertain look on his boyfriend’s face.
Slow, cautious and more than a little thoughtful the words emerge from Tuti’s mouth. ‘You did mean it didn’t you?’
‘Mean what?’
Tuti being Tuti (and being in very close proximity to Nagayama) means that the usual smile is only just lurking beneath the surface and it shows as he answers, ‘The bit about you… well… being in love.’
There’s a blush at the end of the sentence and that makes Nagayama’s urge to laugh stronger than it was before but he can’t when there’s something so strangely vulnerable about the look on Tuti’s face.
‘You don’t believe me?’
Tuti’s laughing now. ‘Well people don’t normally admit it like that, you know.’
Giving in to temptation, Nagayama grabs hold of Tuti’s hand, the one still trying to cover his mouth, and sweeps the tip of his tongue up the longest digit.
‘Takashi,’ Tuti tries to half-heartedly wrench his hand free. ‘Answer the question.’
Nagayama tightens his grip and repeats the process on another finger, nipping the tip with his teeth before kissing it. Refusing to break eye-contact with a suddenly flustered Tuti he takes the finger further between his lips. His tongue flickers against it again before sucking lightly, briefly, just enough to make Tuti’s eyes widen and his lips part and the hand is discarded in favour of playing his tongue over Tuti’s own.
‘That answer your question?’ Nagayama gasps, mouth leaving Tuti’s own for just long enough to get the words out before he can chase after the trail of groans coming from his boyfriend, teasing him with biting kisses to Tuti’s jaw before Tuti remembers he has hands and can use them to push Nagayama onto his back.
Rough (and a couple of damp) fingers slide over Nagayama’s skin, forcing his t-shirt up and up until it’s bunched uncomfortably beneath his armpits and Tuti’s hands are running all over skin and muscle. Tuti’s mouth still covers his, Tuti taking his turn to tease, avoiding making contact with Nagayama’s tongue in favour of ever more brief kisses that suddenly stop entirely and Tuti’s grinning down at an out of breath and flushed Nagayama. ‘Do you love me?’ he asks almost tauntingly, restraining Nagayama with a hand to the shoulder so that he has to stay pinned to the floor, keeping his wrists down with the other hand and hovering just out of reach, sweeping a hypnotic tongue over his lips before repeating, ‘Well?’
‘Let me think about it,’ groans Nagayama, making use of the way Tuti’s focused on his upper body to suddenly knock one leg free. A quick stretch gets his thighs wrapped round a surprised Tuti’s hips and he locks his ankles together so Tuti can’t remove him even if the other man wanted to. He licks his lips and smirks up at Tuti, wriggling slightly in a such a way that he knows makes him look appealing and partially helpless and finding himself very glad that Tuti so obligingly decided to hold his wrists down above his head. ‘Hmmm…’ he groans, breaking off to bite his lower lip, shifting slightly again on the cool floor so that his crotch oh-so-lightly brushes against Tuti’s and…
Self-control giving out in a rush, Tuti almost collapses on top of him, hands going straight for Nagayama’s hips, searching for the zip on his jeans with barely concealed desperation. Nagayama, now freed, grabs fistfuls of Tuti’s shirt to pull him closer still, bodies so close despite the remaining layers of clothing, kissing each other so deeply that Nagayama’s no longer sure where he ends and Tuti starts.
When the need for oxygen becomes a pressing concern once again, it’s Tuti’s turn to mutter a few words into Nagayama’s ear. ‘I know you love me.’
‘Do I?’ is the answering moan he receives, breathless and yet still amused all in one.
A muffled chuckle is shortly followed by ‘You can’t resist me,’ muttered into the crook of Nagayama’s neck.
Nagayama laughs this time, almost choking on it as Tuti insistently marks his way up Nagayama’s throat. He catches a brief glimpse of Tuti’s face before the other man kisses him again, less roughly than before but almost as fiercely, as though daring Nagayama to disagree with the statement.
‘You’re pretty insistent.’ How Nagayama manages to get the words out when his mouth, his hands, his entire body and quite possibly the whole world seems to be dominated by Tuti, by his taste and the feel of his skin now that, somehow, he’s managed to lose his shirt, he doesn’t know. The top button of his jeans has worked itself free and Nagayama can feel the cold metal grazing across his skin every time Tuti shifts above him, his senses so overwhelmed by the presence of the other man he’s dizzy and can barely tell if Tuti’s still kissing him or not.
Tuti makes a grab for Nagayama’s t-shirt and yanks it over his head in a jerky movement before pillowing Nagayama’s head with his own arms. ‘It’s my animal magnetism,’ he mock-growls, making Nagayama laugh again.
‘So is that what you call those awful shirts, your mating plumage?’ gasps Nagayama as Tuti’s bare chest presses against his, not hard enough to prevent him breathing but a reassuring weight all the same.
‘It worked on you,’ smirks Tuti, brushing a brief kiss over Nagayama’s mouth before sliding down a little way to trace Nagayama’s collarbone with the tip of his tongue. ‘And don’t try and wriggle out of the question.’
Trying to keep some semblance of coherent thought running through his brain, Nagayama managed to hold off teasing long enough to ask, ‘It matters to you, doesn’t it?’
Tuti doesn’t pause, doesn’t miss a beat before asking, ‘Doesn’t it matter to you?’
And even though Tuti’s still kissing him, teasing his body and dragging gasps and groans from between his lips, Nagayama holds on enough to give an honest answer. ‘Yes… but you’re being insistent.’
He can feel Tuti’s lips curving into a smirk against his neck and he rolls his head to one side to expose more bare skin to Tuti’s roaming mouth even as the other man explains, ‘Because you’re refusing to play.’
This drags a lazy smirk to Nagayama’s mouth. ‘Actually I am playing,’ he whispers back, bucking his hips again and grinning wider when this forces a groan from Tuti.
‘Yeah… too much,’ Tuti gasps on the tail end of the groan. ‘Takashi. Please.’
Nagayama suddenly stops teasing. He slides his hands up Tuti’s chest, slowly and carefully with something almost approaching reverence as he nears Tuti’s face, fingertips dragging over first nipples, then shoulders before burying themselves in Tuti’s hair that, in all their rolling around, has become even messier than usual. He presses a chaste kiss to a surprised Tuti’s mouth before pushing the other man back far enough that he can see and be seen clearly.
‘I love you Yuuichi.’
End
Author: Dria (yes, me again)
Rating: R
Length: 4,074 words
Beta: kooriyoukai who is also responsible for half the dialogue in the last thousand words and my favourite line in the entire fic ("So is that what you call those awful shirts, your mating plumage?")
Summary: Introspection on Nagayan's side about Tuti, himself and their relationship leads to some confessions on both sides and a bit of gratuitious kissing, groping and stripping.
The guy’s a fidget, incapable of sitting still for longer than three minutes together and always, regardless of the situation, needing to do something with his hands. Right now those hands are wrapped round a piece of fruit. Fingers skim over unblemished skin to the stalk, which is twisted and twisted until it snaps off and he throws it over his shoulder.
Easily discarded like anything else that doesn’t catch his flickering attention.
Rolling it now between his palms as though it’s a ball of dough to be moulded, he continues to fidget. He’s talking animatedly and yet still the piece of fruit gets abused, once again prompting Nagayama to tell himself that he is going to buy Tuti a stress ball. This time he means it, at the very least to save the contents of his fruit bowl from a pummelling every time Tuti comes over.
There’s a pause, the hands still, one even retreats a little way and just when Nagayama thinks Tuti’s finally got his bad habit under control, the piece of fruit flies out of his hand and lands in the other.
Nagayama can’t help it, he rolls his eyes.
The flying fruit soars helplessly through the air from one hand to the other, each time having to travel a little further to reach its destination. Whatever it is that Tuti’s talking about (Nagayama tuned out a while ago) is getting him more excited. The fruit flies faster and Nagayama knows that at some point Tuti’s going to miss and then it’ll go splat on his floor and guess who’ll get stuck with the job of cleaning it up?
Tuti’s always been like this for as long as Nagayama’s known him, which is, he’s half-surprised to admit, quite a long period of time now. That first meeting feels like decades ago and while Tuti’s grown and changed in a number of ways since then (some more unexpected than others) some of the man’s habits haven’t altered a bit.
At least, Nagayama tells himself, Tuti isn’t going for his cigarette packet.
That’s one bad habit Nagayama wishes Tuti would quit even though he knows exactly why he can’t. While many would look at loud, confident Tsuchiya Yuichi, the man who can’t help but yell random phrases at rehearsals, will barge shamelessly into any conversation and who will show off given half a chance, and think that he’s someone who doesn’t know the meaning of the word ‘nervous’… Those are the people who’ve never watched him practice and practice for hours at a time until he’s covered in bruises and every muscle he possesses is aching just so he can get a particular move spot on. Those are the people who’ve never seen Tuti half an hour before a performance starts when he’s obnoxiously loud and tactless to boot. Those are the people who’ve never noticed the bitterness in his voice when he berates his own performance afterwards, mercilessly picking it apart and passing off any success as being down to other people’s hard work.
And they’re probably also the people Tuti’s trying hardest to impress.
Nagayama knows that he made the same mistake himself when he first met Tuti. He thought that Tuti was one of those people who could be summed up in a sentence; someone who was open, friendly, loud and confident. It had come as something of a surprise to discover that he was wrong, that as expressive as that familiar face is capable of being, it can be a mask, a shield more often than a window. Nagayama’s occasionally mused that all people may be like that, that no one is an open book unless they actively choose to be and even then only to certain people.
But Tuti is capable of being more closed than most. There’s things he won’t talk about, things that he’ll ignore no matter how many times you ask him for an explanation, things that he’d rather just forget by getting drunk with the other *pnish* members than discuss and deal with. He’s not always like that and certainly not to the extent where Nagayama gets seriously worried about his best friend, but it doesn’t stop him wishing that there was more he could do to help because it feels wrong somehow, to have to admit that there are times when Tuti needs someone else to make him forget.
Nagayama, for his own part, knows that he likes to feel needed. He’s so used to feeling competent, independent and in control that any suggestion from someone as important to him as Tuti is that this may not be the case is guaranteed to send him into a bad mood. Consequently, seeing Tuti post stupid pictures on the *pnish* practice diary of him holding a large glass of wine while Eiji pulls dumb faces over his shoulder is not something Nagayama likes to see first thing in the morning. Nor is finding a text message from Daiki telling him, in a genuinely friendly if slightly inebriated way, that Tuti’s upset about something but that alcohol will cure all his ills. “Don’t worry,” read the most recent one of these messages. “We pnish members look after each other!” And so they do, leaving Nagayama to wonder why Tuti bothers keeping him around when he’s got three other guys to lean on for drunken emotional support.
Of course, he knows why he and Tuti still hang around each other, it’s more or less obligatory when you’re dating and (more often than not) sleeping together. But that doesn’t answer the irritating questions about why Tuti will still sometimes go to the other *pnish* members and not Nagayama. Maybe it’s because Nagayama grew out of the habit of drowning his problems about the same time he realised his alcohol tolerance was practically non-existent, or possibly it’s the thought that Tuti might be complaining about him to the other three and Nagayama never could bear the thought of other people knowing details concerning his relationships.
That’s one of the other strange things about Tuti - his bizarre habit for openness even when he’s such a private person. His blog is a joke and one that Nagayama teases him about constantly. The random post about his lost bike or the one about the possibility of an enforced haircut say so much about the scattered nature of Tuti’s way of thinking and yet so little about what actually goes through his head. It’s so open and honest and so recognisably “Tuti” that sometimes it scares Nagayama, making him wonder if one day he’ll go check the site and find a post in which Tuti confesses something that really should remain private.
Or whether one day he’ll find something that doesn’t fit and he’ll be forced to admit that the person he’s dating is no more real than the image presented by Tuti through *pnish*.
‘You do realise you’re pouting don’t you?’
It’s the sudden change of Tuti’s voice, from rambling to direct, rather than what Tuti actually says that snaps Nagayama’s attention away from the still flying piece of fruit. The words take a moment to penetrate and when they do, Nagayama merely blinks in confusion. ‘I’m what?’
Tuti rolls his eyes and throws the bruised apple from one hand to the other again. ‘You’re pouting.’ Tuti points out, his familiar smirk sliding across his face just as easily as usual and with a finality in his voice that makes it clear that such an expression on Nagayama’s face is clearly important and significant and… Typical Tuti.
‘Well anyone would pout if they had to listen to you rambling all afternoon.’
‘You’re the one who invited me over,’ Tuti’s head tilts to one side, the apple goes flying again and Nagayama tries really hard not to pout (again).
‘Yeah I know,’ and somehow a sigh slips out though Nagayama’s not sure where it came from.
Tuti’s stopped smirking by now. He’s even put the apple down and his hands are still for what is possibly the first time since he entered the apartment an hour and a half ago. ‘Ok, what’d I do wrong this time?’
‘Nothing,’ startled by the bluntness of the question, Nagayama knows his pout or frown or whatever his face is doing has vanished.
‘You’re pouting,’ the finality is back. ‘Therefore I’ve done something haven’t I?’
‘You…’
Denial would be easy and for a moment Nagayama almost takes the coward’s way out because anything else would at the very least mean admitting he hadn’t been listening to Tuti’s conversation for a while and for all the nonsense he talks, Tuti doesn’t like to feel unheard, much less deliberately ignored.
‘You…’
But there’s a reason why lying is easy and telling the truth isn’t. There’s a reason why Nagayama hides his private fears under many layers of image, poise and hard work. He’s always tried to avoid lying to Tuti in the past but he knows there are definitely times when he hasn’t been entirely honest either.
‘You…’
The truth is Tuti hasn’t done anything. Not this time. Not for a long time. Nagayama’s well aware that the fault is probably on his side, that he should be more trusting and accepting and allow himself to admit that of course he can’t control and dominate and take over every part of Tuti’s life. After all, Tuti’s never stopped him from having his own friends, has he? Tuti’s never pouted when he’s had to postpone dinner because of some other engagement that is harder to break than the one with his boyfriend. But then that’s just the point, isn’t it? Nagayama doesn’t have a relationship with anyone the way Tuti relates to the other *pnish* members. He’s always been a one-off, an individual mapping out his own highly varied career path. He likes it that way, wouldn’t change it for anything, but sometimes… sometimes he does get jealous of the way Tuti can sit back and let Daiki, Eiji and Washio pick up the slack. Tuti gets to be the silly joker of the pack with minimal responsibility apart from what he deliberately pulls onto his own shoulders. Tuti has a freedom that Nagayama never will.
And three best friends to boot.
Nagayama’s lost track of what Tuti’s original question was, he’s forgotten where his train of thought started and now is only aware of the station full of absent friends and lost contacts who all could have been nurtured into something more enduring if he’d had the time or inclination.
So when he suddenly realises that Tuti’s fingers are running lightly over his cheek he’s can’t help but be taken aback. When those fingers slide round to the back of his head, messing up his hair and tickling him so he can’t care, he can only blink as Tuti’s face moves closer. A soft caress of a kiss, delivered more gently than most people would give Tuti credit for, is pressed against his mouth and he automatically parts his lips, knowing exactly where this should lead because how many times have they gone through this now?
But the follow up action, the expected flicker of Tuti’s tongue and the warmth of the other man’s mouth doesn’t come. Instead a whisper of air brushes over Nagayama’s damp lips and he’s left to open his eyes again even though Tuti’s fingers are still idly running up and down the back of his neck.
‘You’ve been thinking again haven’t you?’ the tone is teasing and mildly accusing, Tuti’s smirk less definite than usual though quite definitely present.
‘Sorry.’
It’s an automatic apology and only succeeds in making Tuti frown rather than giving the smile of relief Nagayama finds he was hoping for.
‘You know… you worry me when you go quiet like that. Makes me wonder if some day I’m going to stop talking, look round and find you’re not there anymore.’ Tuti’s voice is still light and teasing but his fingers have stopped tickling Nagayama’s neck. Nagayama can feel the slight pressure of short nails pressing against the sensitive skin of his hairline and knows Tuti’s making a confession even if the words themselves don’t particularly surprise him.
‘I am sorry.’
Continuing as though Nagayama hasn’t said a word, Tuti gives his own, unique apologetic grin. ‘I know Eiji teases us, saying that I do all the talking and you do all the thinking, but that doesn’t mean you have to let me. Talk, I mean. I’ll ramble on to fill any silence, you know that, and if you want me to shut up, you just have to tell me.’
‘It doesn’t irritate me it’s just…’ and for a moment Nagayama has to pause because he doesn’t know quite how to explain what the problem is. Hell, he’s not sure he knows what the problem is. ‘Sometimes it’s like that’s all I am; someone for you to talk at. Makes me wonder why you need me when you’ve got Eiji, Daiki and Washio.’
‘You are kidding right?’ and the grin’s half back. ‘Those guys don’t listen! They talk over me and tease me and don’t let me go on for more than two minutes at a time. And besides you… hey,’ Tuti’s head jerks back a bit and he gives Nagayama an appraising look. ‘You’re not jealous are you?’
Nagayama snorts, ‘Like I’d be jealous of those three dorks.’
‘Good because as great as those three are, and they are, don’t get me wrong; I can honestly say I’m not in love with any of them.’
Whatever expression falls onto Nagayama’s face at those words is enough to make Tuti grin properly for what could be the first time all afternoon. ‘Err… I forgot to say that before didn’t I?’ and Tuti’s looking sheepish and pleased and more than a little nervous as a blush Nagayama doesn’t remember seeing in a while spreads across his face.
The shrug when it comes is awkward seeing as one of Tuti’s hands is still curled round the back of Nagayama’s head and if Tuti knelt any further forward on the one knee he’s risen up off the floor to balance on he’d fall into Nagayama’s lap. The idea of Tuti being out of control, even for a moment, is bizarrely appealing even as most of Nagayama’s brain is trying to process what he’s just heard. Ok, so they’ve been sleeping together for eight months and dating for possibly twice as long as that (Nagayama can’t actually remember when the friendly going out for drinks or dinner for two started counting as proper dates) but there are some words he’s never heard Tuti say.
Until now that is.
And now it’s his turn; his turn to speak or to act or to do something because Tuti’s watching him, waiting expectantly for some kind of answer to the unasked question.
‘Well… maybe I do get jealous when the guy I love would rather spend time with his friends than me.’ The admission is quiet and Nagayama isn’t entirely sure he’s actually managed to say it aloud until his back hits the floor and he can feel Tuti’s weight resting awkwardly on top of him. ‘Idiot, you’re heavy,’ he gasps, hands pushing roughly at Tuti’s chest but somehow doing more to hike up Tuti’s t-shirt than to shift the weight on top of him.
Tuti, for his part, doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. The smile on his face says enough. Says everything that could possibly need to be said and far more besides. In fact it isn’t just a smile or a smirk, it’s a face-splitting grin that takes on a mischievous quality when his hips press against Nagayama’s, a grin that can’t vanish completely even when he lowers his head and presses a hungry kiss against Nagayama’s waiting, open mouth. There’s no careful, tender restraint this time and only when the weight of Tuti pressing down on his chest starts to make it impossible to draw breath, does Nagayama protest.
‘Idiot,’ he reprimands again, grinning back and making the most of Tuti’s moment of half-dazed recovery to give him a push. Obediently taking the hint, Tuti rolls off him, onto his own back, tugging Nagayama after him until their roles are reversed and it’s Nagayama who is straddling Tuti.
The grin is still plastered across Tuti’s face, surprised, dazed, but visible and Nagayama allows himself a moment to admire it, knowing that he put it there, that despite all the jealousies and doubts, he’s capable of producing this result so easily.
Tuti squirms briefly under him. ‘What?’
Nagayama gives a shake of his head. ‘I was just thinking how lucky I am.’
‘Not jealous?’ a cheeky grin spreads across Tuti’s face as he tucks one arm back under his head to cushion it and slips the other under Nagayama’s t-shirt, fingers brushing over the bare skin hiding there.
‘You kidding?’ Tipping himself forward, Nagayama shifts his weight to his elbows and knees, mouth hovering a mere inch from Tuti’s smirk. ‘Not now. No.’
‘Good,’ and with that one word Tuti closes the last gap between them.
When they break apart, panting, hair dishevelled and considerably closer to the wall than they’d started off being (but with Nagayama still comfortably on top of Tuti) it’s Tuti who stops the second round of kissing with a finger to Nagayama’s lips.
‘What?’ Nagayama consoles himself with kissing the digit instead, half-tempted to lick the fingertip in a way that he knows will make Tuti squirm but restraining himself because there’s a slightly uncertain look on his boyfriend’s face.
Slow, cautious and more than a little thoughtful the words emerge from Tuti’s mouth. ‘You did mean it didn’t you?’
‘Mean what?’
Tuti being Tuti (and being in very close proximity to Nagayama) means that the usual smile is only just lurking beneath the surface and it shows as he answers, ‘The bit about you… well… being in love.’
There’s a blush at the end of the sentence and that makes Nagayama’s urge to laugh stronger than it was before but he can’t when there’s something so strangely vulnerable about the look on Tuti’s face.
‘You don’t believe me?’
Tuti’s laughing now. ‘Well people don’t normally admit it like that, you know.’
Giving in to temptation, Nagayama grabs hold of Tuti’s hand, the one still trying to cover his mouth, and sweeps the tip of his tongue up the longest digit.
‘Takashi,’ Tuti tries to half-heartedly wrench his hand free. ‘Answer the question.’
Nagayama tightens his grip and repeats the process on another finger, nipping the tip with his teeth before kissing it. Refusing to break eye-contact with a suddenly flustered Tuti he takes the finger further between his lips. His tongue flickers against it again before sucking lightly, briefly, just enough to make Tuti’s eyes widen and his lips part and the hand is discarded in favour of playing his tongue over Tuti’s own.
‘That answer your question?’ Nagayama gasps, mouth leaving Tuti’s own for just long enough to get the words out before he can chase after the trail of groans coming from his boyfriend, teasing him with biting kisses to Tuti’s jaw before Tuti remembers he has hands and can use them to push Nagayama onto his back.
Rough (and a couple of damp) fingers slide over Nagayama’s skin, forcing his t-shirt up and up until it’s bunched uncomfortably beneath his armpits and Tuti’s hands are running all over skin and muscle. Tuti’s mouth still covers his, Tuti taking his turn to tease, avoiding making contact with Nagayama’s tongue in favour of ever more brief kisses that suddenly stop entirely and Tuti’s grinning down at an out of breath and flushed Nagayama. ‘Do you love me?’ he asks almost tauntingly, restraining Nagayama with a hand to the shoulder so that he has to stay pinned to the floor, keeping his wrists down with the other hand and hovering just out of reach, sweeping a hypnotic tongue over his lips before repeating, ‘Well?’
‘Let me think about it,’ groans Nagayama, making use of the way Tuti’s focused on his upper body to suddenly knock one leg free. A quick stretch gets his thighs wrapped round a surprised Tuti’s hips and he locks his ankles together so Tuti can’t remove him even if the other man wanted to. He licks his lips and smirks up at Tuti, wriggling slightly in a such a way that he knows makes him look appealing and partially helpless and finding himself very glad that Tuti so obligingly decided to hold his wrists down above his head. ‘Hmmm…’ he groans, breaking off to bite his lower lip, shifting slightly again on the cool floor so that his crotch oh-so-lightly brushes against Tuti’s and…
Self-control giving out in a rush, Tuti almost collapses on top of him, hands going straight for Nagayama’s hips, searching for the zip on his jeans with barely concealed desperation. Nagayama, now freed, grabs fistfuls of Tuti’s shirt to pull him closer still, bodies so close despite the remaining layers of clothing, kissing each other so deeply that Nagayama’s no longer sure where he ends and Tuti starts.
When the need for oxygen becomes a pressing concern once again, it’s Tuti’s turn to mutter a few words into Nagayama’s ear. ‘I know you love me.’
‘Do I?’ is the answering moan he receives, breathless and yet still amused all in one.
A muffled chuckle is shortly followed by ‘You can’t resist me,’ muttered into the crook of Nagayama’s neck.
Nagayama laughs this time, almost choking on it as Tuti insistently marks his way up Nagayama’s throat. He catches a brief glimpse of Tuti’s face before the other man kisses him again, less roughly than before but almost as fiercely, as though daring Nagayama to disagree with the statement.
‘You’re pretty insistent.’ How Nagayama manages to get the words out when his mouth, his hands, his entire body and quite possibly the whole world seems to be dominated by Tuti, by his taste and the feel of his skin now that, somehow, he’s managed to lose his shirt, he doesn’t know. The top button of his jeans has worked itself free and Nagayama can feel the cold metal grazing across his skin every time Tuti shifts above him, his senses so overwhelmed by the presence of the other man he’s dizzy and can barely tell if Tuti’s still kissing him or not.
Tuti makes a grab for Nagayama’s t-shirt and yanks it over his head in a jerky movement before pillowing Nagayama’s head with his own arms. ‘It’s my animal magnetism,’ he mock-growls, making Nagayama laugh again.
‘So is that what you call those awful shirts, your mating plumage?’ gasps Nagayama as Tuti’s bare chest presses against his, not hard enough to prevent him breathing but a reassuring weight all the same.
‘It worked on you,’ smirks Tuti, brushing a brief kiss over Nagayama’s mouth before sliding down a little way to trace Nagayama’s collarbone with the tip of his tongue. ‘And don’t try and wriggle out of the question.’
Trying to keep some semblance of coherent thought running through his brain, Nagayama managed to hold off teasing long enough to ask, ‘It matters to you, doesn’t it?’
Tuti doesn’t pause, doesn’t miss a beat before asking, ‘Doesn’t it matter to you?’
And even though Tuti’s still kissing him, teasing his body and dragging gasps and groans from between his lips, Nagayama holds on enough to give an honest answer. ‘Yes… but you’re being insistent.’
He can feel Tuti’s lips curving into a smirk against his neck and he rolls his head to one side to expose more bare skin to Tuti’s roaming mouth even as the other man explains, ‘Because you’re refusing to play.’
This drags a lazy smirk to Nagayama’s mouth. ‘Actually I am playing,’ he whispers back, bucking his hips again and grinning wider when this forces a groan from Tuti.
‘Yeah… too much,’ Tuti gasps on the tail end of the groan. ‘Takashi. Please.’
Nagayama suddenly stops teasing. He slides his hands up Tuti’s chest, slowly and carefully with something almost approaching reverence as he nears Tuti’s face, fingertips dragging over first nipples, then shoulders before burying themselves in Tuti’s hair that, in all their rolling around, has become even messier than usual. He presses a chaste kiss to a surprised Tuti’s mouth before pushing the other man back far enough that he can see and be seen clearly.
‘I love you Yuuichi.’
End