Rating/Warnings: PG-13 for various ratings and suggestive covers.
Summary: Fujigaya and Kawai bring Senga back a present, and Nikaido is annoyed.
AN: As usual, this is totally snowqueenofhoth's fault, but at least she'll eventually put out in just this sort of doujin scanning.
Not So Much Like Akame
They’re in the midst of a shopping trip, in the basement of some tiny doujinshi shop. Fujigaya is rooting around in a box of Gundam doujinshi, looking for presents for his brothers, when he hears Kawai give a whistle.
“What is it?” he asks without looking, then abandons his own box to go over and see when all he gets in response is a choked warble of laughter. If Kawai is past words, it must be something really good.
The thin, plastic-sealed doujinshi Kawai holds up for him to see doesn’t disappoint.
“Holy shit,” Fujigaya gasps in glee, while Kawai muffles more snickers with the back of his hand. The cover has a lot of hearts on it, and a cheerful warning about explicit contents, and also a drawing of two people holding hands, one kissing the other on the cheek.
The faces are a little generic, but Fujigaya would recognize those awful boots that Nikaido wore all last winter anyplace. Certainly he’d been wearing them in quite a few paparazzi photos, and Fujigaya is also more than passingly familiar with the scarf wrapped around the other boy’s neck.
He gave it to Senga last Christmas.
“Are there more of these?” Fujigaya demands quickly, and they spend the next twenty minutes going through the box to find half a dozen more, of various ratings and suggestive covers. They can’t stop snickering the whole time, and by the time they check out, the cashier is starting to give them strange looks, but it’ll all be worth it, Fujigaya chortles to Kawai, when they all show up to practice the next day.
“Where did you find these?” Tamamori demands sitting on the couch in the Kis-My-Ft2 dressing room with one of the racier doujins on his lap. To the left of him is Kitayama, calmly reaching over to flip a page and looking for all intents and purposes invested in the story; to the left of Tamamori is Miyata, who had been reading along originally, but now is curled in a ball on his side, laughing so hard tears are gathering on his lashes. Behind them, Yokoo is leaning over the couch and making progressively more and more horrified faces at each new page, but doesn’t seem able to tear himself away.
“Secre~t,” Fujigaya hums smugly. “But there was one of you and Miyata too.”
“What?!” Tamamori squawks, fingers tightening so that the pages crinkle, and Kitayama takes the book from him with a ‘tsk.’ Tamamori lets him and tilts his head back to whine at Yokoo, who pats his forehead sympathetically.
“Shh!” Fujigaya hisses when he hears the voices he’s been waiting for in the hallway. “Here they come!”
“I’m telling you!” Nikaido insists as he and Senga stroll in the door, Senga shaking his head and laughing. “She was totally not Japanese, she was…what’s going on in here?”
Miyata goes on cackling, but Fujigaya, Yokoo, and Tamamori blink at him innocently. Kitayama turns another page.
“Pfft,” he says, “Nikaido tops? As if.”
“WHAT?!” Nikaido demands, and the look on his face is so priceless that Fujigaya can’t even bring himself to yell at Kitayama for disrupting his carefully planned lead-up to the revelation of the doujinshi.
Senga trots over to see, sitting on the arm of the couch, and Kitayama lifts an arm up to curl around Senga’s waist, letting him slide down until he’s half in Kitayama’s lap. “Mou, is that me?!”
Nikaido snarls as if he can’t even decide what to yell about first, and he rounds on Fujigaya. “What the hell did you bring in here?”
“How do you know I’m the one who did it?” Fujigaya asks, giving Nikaido a cute smile, but Nikaido narrows his eyes, not fooled.
“You’re the only one perverted enough to bring in something like that,” he scowls, crossing his arms.
“Yup!” Fujigaya gives in easily, then strides across the room and pulls a plastic shopping bag from behind his back to drop in Senga’s lap. “Here, a present. Maybe you’ll even learn something.”
“Don't give him those!” Nikaido shrieks, while Senga opens the handles of the bag and his eyes widen.
“Wow, there’s a lot in here!” he exclaims. “And it’s all me and Nika!”
“Stop, stop,” Miyata begs, voice warbling. “If I laugh any more I’m going to die!”
“Ne, Ken-chan,” Tsuka says when he strolls into Butoukan practice and finds Senga sitting on a pile of mats with one of the doujins on his lap, swinging his feet. “Whatcha got there?”
“Doujinshi,” Senga answers, tilting his head a little as he stares at one of the panels.
“Oh? What kind of…aaugh!” Tsuka gives a little exclamation of surprise when he sits down beside Senga and gets a good look. His cheeks turn pink and he glances quickly around, but only Bunichi and Yamamoto are there yet, and they’re in the corner helping each other stretch. “Give a guy a little warning! Aren’t you a little young to be into that?”
“It’s about me,” Senga explains, flipping a page. “And Nika. Taipi found them.”
“Ahh,” Tsuka says, because that explains quite a bit. He takes a look at the new page and winces. “You’re definitely too young to do that.”
Senga just giggles and shuts the book. On the cover, manga-Nikaido has his arms around manga-Senga’s waist, and manga-Senga is grinning like a moron. “Tsuka-chan, did you know about these sorts of doujin?”
“My sister has a couple Akame ones,” Tsuka admits, looking even more embarrassed than when he’d been looking right at manga-Senga’s floral-censored sex scene. “It’s weird, when you know the guys.”
“Un,” Senga nods and taps his fingers against the cover. “They don’t know us at all really. In one of them, Nika keeps calling me ‘baby’ and I couldn’t stop laughing. But they must think it’s interesting, right? The ones who draw this? They must think me and Nika are a cute couple.”
“I suppose,” Tsuka admits.
“Maybe we’ll be the next Akame! When we debut.” Senga beams at Tsuka, and Tsuka doesn’t at all have the heart to address the many, many things that are disturbing about that statement.
“Look, just put that away,” he finally says, ruffling Senga’s hair and thinking it’s a good thing the little moron is so cute, “before Yara sees you with it and decides you’re not too young for it at all.”
“Are you still reading those?” Nikaido demands crankily. They’re in Senga’s room, supposedly working on homework, but really Senga is sprawled out on his stomach with another doujinshi, kicking his feet in the air, while Nika sits on the floor and mails Fujigaya back to insist that no, they aren’t doing anything gross, and also he can tell Kitayama to fuck right off.
“I’ve only got a few more.” Senga shrugs a shoulder. “Some of them are pretty good, are you sure you don’t want to see?”
“No, I do not,” Nikaido replies, voice crisp. “And what’s this crap about us being the new Akame?”
“When we debut,” Senga nods, “don’t you think? I told Tsuka. We’re way cuter, so we’ll be a lot more popular, ne.”
“Kame and Jin hate each other!” Nikaido protests. “I don’t want to be like them at all!”
Senga looks up and gives Nikaido a look that makes him shift a little. A tiny grin lurks at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t?”
“Of course not!” Nikaido drops his phone to cross his arms, like he’s going to glare down any argument Senga has. “We’re best friends, and we’re going to stay best friends, and we’re never going to be anything like that!”
“Nika,” Senga purrs, obviously delighted and grinning full force at the heat behind Nikaido’s words. “Come here.”
“Why?” Nikaido wants to know, suspicious, but Senga just slides over to make room and beckons with a finger, and Nikaido finds himself climbing up on the bed beside Senga and settling on his stomach as well.
“You should read this one, it’s my favorite,” Senga says, and Nikaido squawks and tries to wriggle away, but Senga hooks an arm through Nikaido’s elbow to hold him still. “Don’t be a baby,” he orders, pushing the pages over to get back to the first one, and Nikaido settles down with a mutinous glare.
“It doesn’t bother you?” Nikaido asks a few minutes later, after manga-Nikaido has confessed in a bakery and given manga-Senga a heart-shaped muffin. “That people you don’t know are drawing you having sex with me, and other people you don’t know are reading it?”
“Is it so surprising?” Senga turns to look at Nikaido, chin propped up on the hand that’s not still holding Nikaido in place. “After the choreography we use and the way we’re supposed to touch each other? It’s what they’re supposed to think, isn’t it?”
“I thought they were supposed to imagine us doing it to them,” Nikaido mumbles, cheeks heating up under Senga’s even gaze.
“We’re too young for that, it’d make them feel guilty,” Senga says with authority. “But it’s okay to imagine us with each other, since we’re the same age.”
“That’s…” creepy, is maybe what Nikaido is about to say, or ridiculous, but he doesn’t say anything because he’s interrupted by Senga leaning over to kiss the corner of his mouth.
Then sits backs and turns the page over like nothing has happened.
“WHAT,” Nikaido blurts after a second, “THE HELL WAS THAT?!”
“Maybe I’ve been thinking about it too,” Senga says, giving Nikaido a look so that his grin his hidden by his shoulder. “But I think Kitamitsu’s right about you being on top.”
Nikaido gives a shriek of outrage and shoves Senga over onto back, then follows to loom over him, running merciless hands under Senga’s T-shirt and up his sides while Senga thrashes and laughs helplessly, but when he’s sure he’s proven his point, he lets Senga catch his face and kiss him a little more successfully.
Later, when they’re curled up under Senga’s blankets, Nikaido pokes Senga in the bare chest and reminds, “But we aren’t going to be like Akame at all.”
“Nope!” Senga snuggles closer, his breath tickling Nikaido’s throat. “When we debut, it’ll be even better.”
There’s still many, many things wrong with that statement, but Nikaido can’t work up enough energy to argue, and instead just tightens his grip on Senga and grumbles that it’s a good thing Senga is such a cute little moron.
The next day, when Nikaido and Senga show up to practice to find Kawai and Miyata acting out a scene from one of the doujinshi to a rapt audience of Ebikisu members, Senga and Nikaido retaliate by acting out one of Senga’s favorites instead.
“You are definitely too young for that!” Yokoo and Tsuka wail in unison as Tottsu dives past an insensible Goseki and Fujigaya to cover Hasshi’s eyes, Kitayama and Tamamori yelling technical scores, and then Yara sticks his heads in the door as if summoned by magic.
It would all still probably have been fine if it hadn’t been Koyama who came to find out what all the noise was about.
“Who wants to explain this?” Nakamaru demands of the thirteen of them, gesturing towards his co-MC, whose face is scarlet and is still too flustered to anything besides stutter a few words at a time. Shoon pats Koyama on the back soothingly and looks puzzled.
Nikaido gives an aggravated sigh, but Senga just grins sweetly and pulls a few of the doujinshi out of his bag to drop in Nakamaru’s hands.
“Fujigaya-kun and Kawai-kun gave me them,” he chirps, and Nikaido’s mouth twitches with the effort of not laughing out loud at the way Fujigaya’s jaw drops. “They’re thoughtful senpai, ne. They said we could learn something and were just demonstrating when Koyama-senpai came in.”
“Oh, really?” Nakamaru’s voice lowers to a silky purr as he rounds on Fujigaya and Kawai, and Senga has to bring his hands up to hide his snickers as Nakamaru tells the other two that they’ll be Yara’s personal assistants from now until the next filming.
“So wrong,” Nikaido hisses in Senga’s ear, but he brushes a kiss over Senga’s cheek while he’s there.
Senga accepts it as his due and gives Nikaido a wink. “Good thing I’m such a cute little moron, ne?”