Kitayama might be taking a picture of this (mousapelli) wrote,
Kitayama might be taking a picture of this
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Fic, Kis-My-Ft2, Five Times Miyata Didn't Believe in Love

Title: Five Times Miyata Didn't Believe in Love (And Once He Did) [Miyata/Tamamori]
Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for the way Tackey loves juniors.
Summary: Miyata is just a practical guy, really. Tamamori is not.
AN: For shatteredtenshi's Kis-My-Ft2-Thon, and also for swtjemz because I'm going to make her sink to my level yet.


Five Times Miyata Didn't Believe in Love (And Once He Did)

One

"That's ridiculous," Tamamori said, tilting his head.

"It's not," Miyata replied, reaching into the bag in Tamamori's hand and pulling out another seaweed-flavored rice cracker. They were sitting on the edge of the Shounen Club stage, watching other juniors and crew mill about, packing up after filming. Tamamori was swinging his feet over the edge, back and forth.

"It is!" Tamamori insisted. "It's not like Santa Claus or Ryo-kun's gentle side. Everybody believes in love."

"No," Miyata shook his head. "Not everybody does. I don't." He popped the whole cracker in his mouth and chewed while Tamamori spluttered.

"You're an idol!" Tamamori finally managed. "Girls mail you confessions all the time! How can you not believe in love?"

"Love," Miyata said, dusting off his hands, "is for fangirls and daytime doramas and debut singles. You're a jyannis, you should know better. Love especially isn't for juniors."

"You're crazy!" Tamamori protested, glancing around for help, then pointing behind them. "Look, there's juniors in love, right there!"

Miyata stole another cracker and chewed as he turned to see Shoon and Hikaru sharing the earbuds to Hikaru's iPod, standing close enough that their shoulders brushed when Hikaru bounced along to the music. Miyata wasn't blind to the hipbump Hikaru gave Shoon, or the shy smile Shoon was giving Hikaru.

He turned back to find Tamamori looking smug. "See? They're not even in the same group anymore, but they didn't break up! It's love!"

"500 yen," Miyata replied, "says their true love doesn't even make it to the single's release."

"You're on!" Tamamori agreed immediately.

He wasn't looking very smug not four days later, when Hikaru stumbled into Kis-My-Ft2's dressing room by accident, hand-in-hand with a flustered Inoo-kun. But then again, Miyata wasn't feeling particularly victorious when he took Tamamori's 500 yen and used it to take a heart-broken Shoon out for ice cream.

Two

It wasn't that Miyata was a misanthrope or anything like that. He was just practical. It was practical to like your bandmates. It was practical to have a relationship with somebody you spent 90% of your time with anyway. It was practical to fool around with somebody wearing essentially the same costume as you in case you had to throw it all back on in a hurry.

It was practically impossible to take the same liberties with somebody outside your unit.

"I'm not saying I don't believe in love at all," Miyata tried to explain further. "Like a parent loving a child, or the way Tackey-senpai loves juniors. But that's not what you're talking about."

"Oh, it isn't?" Tamamori inquired. It was the next morning, both of them heading towards the costume rack. Tamamori sounded a bit peevish, but Miyata shrugged it off as early-morning grumpiness.

"No," Miyata replied as they reached the rack and began rifling around for the one with his name pinned to it. "You're talking about hearts and flowers, love at first sight, head over heels, cupid and chocolates, pet names, throw yourselves off Tokyo Tower together, KAWAI AND JUN-SENPAI BEHIND THE COSTUME RACK!"

"Don't be retarded," Tamamori snapped as Miyata hopped back. "I don't mean…AAAAGH! MY EYES!"

"Yo," said Kawai. At least that's what Miyata was guessing he'd said. His mouth was kind of full.

"Speaking of love," Jun-senpai said conversationally as he reached over to yank the costumes that Tamamori had slid aside back into place, "I'd love it if you morons would get lost!"

Three

"What about Ken-chan and Nika?" Tamamori wanted to know, not ready to give up yet. He jerked a thumb towards the couch of their dressing room, where Senga and Nikaido were wrestling over a DS which, so far as Miyata knew, didn't belong to either one of them.

It didn't really matter, since any moron could see that the wrestling was just an excuse to touch each other a lot.

"Puppy love is still love!" Tamamori crossed his arms and looked smug.

"They're just best friends," Miyata shrugged. He watched impassively as Nikaido tackled Senga around the waist and toppled them both to the ground. When the dust settled, Senga was straddling Nikaido's waist and whooping in victory, DS totally forgotten.

"What's the difference?!" Tamamori demanded.

"They're just fooling around," Miyata explained. "Senga hasn't even figured out they aren't just wrestling yet, and Nikaido will nail anything that breathes as soon as Senga is out of his line-of-sight."

Fed up with Miyata's lack of co-operation, Tamamori was bringing up his fists to possibly strangle him, when the dressing room door banged open and Yara-san stuck his head in to call for Senga to come practice.

"Yes, senpai!" Senga chirped immediately, hopping to his feet and skipping off without even a backwards glance. Nikaido stood up, dusted himself off, and then turned to throw himself down into Yokoo's lap, nuzzling at his neck with a knowing smirk.

"Well?" Miyata asked Tamamori, holding his hands up in case Tamamori really did attack him, but Tamamori just snarled "Forget it!" at him in disgust.

Four

"Okay," Tamamori said a few days later, and Miyata raised an eyebrow. Tamamori hadn't brought it up again since Senga and Nikaido, and Miyata had been hoping he would drop the subject after all.

Certainly he'd been hoping Tamamori wasn't planning on bringing it up again while Miyata's parents were out and they were sprawled on Miyata's bed, Tamamori halfway through unbuttoning Miyata's shirt.

"Akanishi-senpai," Tamamori continued, toying with the next button but not undoing it. "And Yamashita-senpai. What about them?"

"What about them?" Miyata demanded, pushing up with his hips where Tamamori was sitting on them, trying to get him back on track.

"They're definitely doing it." Tamamori let go of Miyata's buttons and Miyata threw up his hands in frustration. "They're old enough to know what they're doing, and they're in separate bands. That's love for sure!"

"They're definitely doing everybody!" Miyata protested. "That's not love, that's nymphomania!"

"That just proves that I'm right." Tamamori crossed his arms, looking smug. "They're so head-over-heels for each other it doesn't even matter who else they do it with!"

"Look, they're roommates, right?" Miyata sat up on his elbows, tipping Tamamori backwards, from his knees onto his rear. "That's like being in a band, only more! That isn't love, it's symbiosis! And being a dork!"

Tamamori looked up at Miyata sadly, shaking his head. "Why don't you want to believe in it?"

"Why do you want to believe in it so badly?" Miyata shrugged one shoulder, then sat up to push Tamamori the whole way down onto his back, cutting off his response by yanking Tamamori's shirt over his head.

Five

"…just really adorable together," Fujigaya was saying as he tugged on his other skate and bounced his heel against the ground to make sure it was on tight.

"It'll never last," Miyata commented from the floor, where he was rummaging through his gym bag.

"What is your PROBLEM?" Tamamori exploded, making everybody else in the dressing room fall silent and stare at him. He had stood up and was glaring down at Miyata, fists clenched. "Why can't it possibly last?! Are they best friends? Roommates? In different bands? Too young? Too dorky, what?!"

"I…" Miyata blinked up at Tamamori, shifting. "I didn't…"

"Is it completely impossible for two people just to be happy?!" Tamamori demanded, looming over Miyata. Miyata opened his mouth, but Tamamori didn't even wait for a reply. "Just forget it! I'm going out to warm up!"

"Whoa," Fujigaya said as the door slammed behind Tamamori. "Are we still talking about my little brother and the girl who made him chocolate?"

"I don't think so," Miyata sighed, climbing to his feet and waving off the others. "I'll take care of it."

One

He found Tamamori sitting on the edge of the stage, swinging his feet. Only this time, every time Tamamori's feet came down, they whacked against the stage with an angry thunk.

He sat down next to Tamamori carefully and waited a moment, but Tamamori didn't say anything, just went on whacking his skates against the stage. Finally Miyata reached over to put his hands on top of Tamamori's, stilling the swing of his feet.

"You'll break your skates," he said, and when Tamamori looked over, gave him a hopeful smile. Tamamori glared back until Miyata looked away, pulling his hand back into his own lap. "Gonna tell me what this is all about?"

"Are you?" Tamamori demanded. Miyata snuck another glance, then sighed when he found Tamamori still glaring.

"It's nothing," Miyata shrugged. "I just like being practical, is all. Sure, it's all cute mails and holding hands on the subway for a while, but then your band breaks up, or your schedules change, or one of you gets invited to do a special project. It's not that I don't like it when people get together, it's just…when you're a junior, nothing lasts."

"Not even this?" Tamamori asked quietly, reaching over to thread his fingers through Miyata's. Miyata looked down in surprise, suddenly catching on.

"Oh," he said, feeling pretty stupid, and then an even stupider grin started spreading across his face. "Oh, that's different, then."

"Wait, wait!" Tamamori protested when Miyata leaned in to sneak a kiss, planting his free hand in the middle of Miyata's chest and pushing him back. "That's all? You've been riding me for weeks about believing in true love, and now all you have to say is 'that's different, then?'"

"Isn't it?" Miyata asked, leaning forward into Tamamori's hand until Tamamori gave up and let him have his kiss.

And the thing was, Miyata thought as he let Tamamori tug him to his feet by the wrist and twirl them around in dizzying little circles on their skates, that he was really hoping so.
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