Summary: The only thing standing in the way of the two of them being happy together is the fact that Fujigaya likes girls and Yokoo never bottoms.
Notes: Written for 2013 Fic2 exchange, for miquilis who wanted relationship fic where things are complicated. I hope you enjoy this! Thanks to my cute 10pm beta.
Don’t Promise Me the Moon
Lately Fujigaya has been thinking about Yokoo a lot.
Not that there’s anything strange about that. They spend enough time together certainly, between work and just hanging out. Yokoo is his closest and oldest friend in Kis-My-ft2, after all. As much as he loves the other members, they do grate on his nerves sometimes (especially in the final hours of a PV shoot), but Yokoo is the one person who Fujigaya feels like he could never really get sick of. It’s only natural he’d be on Fujigaya’s mind at least some of the time.
It’s more the way that he’s been thinking about Yokoo that Fujigaya’s been noticing.
Like how he doesn’t care if Yokoo tugs or pulls at him during shoots, but he sure as hell cares if somebody else does (unless Fujigaya is the one doing it to them, that’s fine). When Yokoo does it, though, it’s different. Yokoo’s hands leave warm spots on Fujigaya’s skin, down along his side where they were pressed together, and when Yokoo moves away the cooler air makes Fujigaya’s skin tingle in the places where a moment ago it was so warm between them.
Like how Yokoo so stubbornly refuses to show the camera the cute side he shows to Fujigaya so easily when it’s just the two of them. When he knows they’re being filmed, Fujigaya tries to draw Yokoo out so the fans can see too, see why they should love Yokoo more, but to be honest, he’s secretly pleased every time that Yokoo refuses, pleased that it’s something just between the two of them.
Like how the entirely mundane sight of Yokoo coming out of the bathroom of their hotel room, shirtless and in worn sweatpants and toweling his hair dry, makes Fujigaya’s heart skip just as surely as any number of fangirls screaming for him. It’s that more than anything that Fujigaya’s been thinking about, about how he wants to touch Yokoo’s skin when it’s still warm from the hot water, bury his nose in Yokoo’s hair when it’s still damp and smells of the girly vanilla shampoo that Yokoo favors, twirl bits of Yokoo’s hair around his fingers now that it’s long again.
It’s weird because he likes girls. Fujigaya likes them a lot, likes their breasts and curves and the way they smell, and he has quite a number of magazines which feature girls under his bed, and an even larger number of good fantasies that involve girls for when he’s in the shower alone. Or at least he did, before Yokoo started showing up in those fantasies. The first time it happened, Fujigaya shrugged it off and imagined a threesome, the girl in between them, the two of them competing to see who could make her moan the loudest, but really it was imaging Yokoo’s hands dragging down his back, meeting Yokoo’s dark eyes over the girl’s shoulder that sent Fujigaya over the edge.
The next time he didn’t bother with the girl. And really, it concerned Fujigaya a lot less that he was fantasizing about another guy than that he was fantasizing about a bandmate that he had to look in the eye every day.
Even though Fujigaya has kept quiet about his feelings for long enough now that he’s sure they aren’t going away, he still isn’t planning on doing anything about them. He might play a flake on TV and for the occasional favorite senpai, but Fujigaya is thoughtful about the things that matter. Yokoo and Kis-My-Ft2 are the things that matter the most, and Fujigaya wouldn’t jump into something that had any chance of hurting either one. It’s safer just to keep his thoughts to himself. It hurts sometimes, but so long as Fujigaya is sure Yokoo will keep on being his best friend, he tells himself that he can be satisfied with just that and a few harmless fantasies in the shower.
But every now and then Fujigaya sees a look on Yokoo’s face, the way his eyes track Fujigaya across a room or the way his hands slide naturally into the perfect spot on Fujigaya’s hip. He wouldn’t see it if he weren’t already looking, but Fujigaya does see and he can’t help but wonder if maybe they’re missing out on something amazing, something they both want.
In the end, it’s not Yokoo’s hands or shower-wet skin or dark eyes that wins over Fujigaya’s heart the rest of the way. They’re sitting on Yokoo’s couch, watching television when Yokoo’s phone chimes with a mail.
“Aww,” Yokoo says as soon as he looks, the tone of voice reserved only for his niece, and he shoves his phone right in Fujigaya’s face until Fujigaya also makes the proper noises at the pictures Yokoo’s brother just sent.
“She looks just like you,” Fujigaya teases.
“Don’t curse her, idiot.” Yokoo’s eyes are soft and affectionate as he takes the phone back and looks again, smile proud, and Fujigaya’s heart squeezes in an entirely unmistakable way.
“Hey, Watta,” he says, before his courage fails. “Can we talk about something?”
“Hm?” Yokoo asks, still occupied with his phone. Fujigaya reaches over to push Yokoo’s wrist down until the phone isn’t blocking their faces from each other.
“Something serious,” he says.
“Yeah, okay.” Yokoo puts his phone down on the coffee table and turns to face Fujigaya properly. “What’s up?”
“Let’s go out,” Fujigaya blurts, then catches his breath and holds it, heart pounding.
“What?” Yokoo rolls his eyes. “We just came in! If you wanted to eat out you should have said before I put on my lounging pants.”
Fujigaya lets his breath back out in an annoyed woosh. “No, let’s go out. Date. Us.”
“Us?” Yokoo’s eyebrows rise. “Me?”
“Of course, you,” Fujigaya says, bracing himself for Yokoo’s usual litany of things that he finds wrong with himself. “Don’t say you aren’t good enough or whatever, you already know I love you, and I know you love me, so it won’t be that different even, right?”
“I think it will be quite a bit different,” Yokoo says gently.
“Okay, sure, different, but good, right?” Fujigaya asks hopefully, trying to read Yokoo’s face. Usually he can do it without any problem but now, when he wants to so badly, he can’t tell at all what Yokoo is thinking. “We already spend so much time together and room together all the time, and that’s no problem.”
“I can name two gigantic problems,” Yokoo counters. “You like girls, and I don’t bottom.”
“Well.” Fujigaya licks his lips, finding that hard to argue with since it’s profoundly true. “That’s true. But...”
“But?” Yokoo asks.
“But I like you.” Fujigaya frowns at how childish that sounds. “I like you so much, and it’s silly, right? I do like girls, but I can’t marry one, can’t even date one properly really, and the ones who like me best I probably shouldn’t.”
“That’s true,” Yokoo chuckles. Fujigaya’s poor taste in women is more legendary than Senga’s taste in clothing.
“If we get seen out together, so what?” Fujigaya starts warming up to the topic, letting out all the thoughts he’s been keeping inside, as if now that he’s started he can’t hold them back anymore. “We flirt and touch each other for fans all the time, why can’t it be real? I know we’d have to be careful, but...I see you so much more than I could ever see anyone else.”
“Ah, so I’m convenient,” Yokoo says.
“Would you stop that, I’m serious!” Fujigaya grits his teeth. “I want to try. I know there might be some problems but if I like you enough, they’ll work themselves out. And if you don’t like me that much, I’ll make you! I’ll win you over.”
Fujigaya’s determined face turns to one of surprise when Yokoo leans over suddenly and forces him backwards. He lands flat on his back across the couch, Yokoo looming over him and holding his wrists down. Fujigaya fights down the urge to struggle and lies still, finding it hard to catch his breath.
“What if I already like you that much?” Yokoo asks, voice low enough to send goosebumps down Fujigaya’s arms, his eyes dark. “I told you I don’t bottom. Aren’t you offering me something you can’t give in the end?”
“You’ve thought about it,” Fujigaya realizes, the sharp thrill of it combined with Yokoo’s nearness going right to his pants.
“Maybe.” Yokoo tightens his grip on Fujigaya’s wrists, bears down a little harder, as if he’s trying to make Fujigaya panic. It’s working a little, because Fujigaya is used to being the one in control and isn’t so sure he can do it the other way, but he’ll be damned if he lets Yokoo see that.
“You can’t scare me away by doing that,” Fujigaya says quietly. He wishes Yokoo would let go so he could reach up and touch Yokoo’s face, brush the hair out of his eyes. “I’ve thought about it too. I don’t know if I can do everything you want, not yet, but I’d try, for you.” Fujigaya thinks about how he likes it when girls play a little helpless with him, and even though in context it seems unfair, he still widens his eyes a little and goes just that much more limp. “You wouldn’t do that for me?”
Yokoo narrows his eyes, then lets go of Fujigaya’s wrists and sits up. Fujigaya follows more slowly, not sure what’s going to happen and not liking the feeling very much.
“You’re serious?” Yokoo asks. Fujigaya nods; he is. Yokoo lets out a sigh that sounds like it hurts. “I’m going to regret this, I know it. But let’s try.”
“You won’t, I promise,” Fujigaya insists, a grin spreading across his face. “I’ll make sure you won’t regret it.”
“Please stop promising me things,” Yokoo says seriously. Fujigaya crawls into Yokoo’s lap and wraps arms around his neck, wishing he could spread his own excitement just by touching him. He doesn’t hesitate before pressing his lips to Yokoo’s, ignoring Yokoo’s muffled protest to wait a second, dammit.
It’s awkward, but sweet, both of their eyes open and their noses bumping when neither one of them tilts their head enough. Fujigaya chuckles against Yokoo’s mouth and tries again until they fit together better, and Fujigaya would trade the hottest kiss he’s ever had for this one in a heartbeat.
“Hey.” Yokoo pushes Fujigaya back a little when Fujigaya’s hands start to wander. “Just what kind of girl do you think I am?”
“Is this a trick question?” Fujigaya asks. He grunts when Yokoo pushes him off, onto the couch, then stands up.
“We haven’t even gone on our first date yet,” Yokoo points out. “So let’s go.”
“What?” Fujigaya rolls his eyes. “Watta, that’s silly, we already...” He trails off when he sees from Yokoo’s expression that he’s not going to budge. “But you already have on your lounging pants!”
“That’s why I’m going to change,” Yokoo announces, turning to head for his bedroom. “Maybe you’d better go spruce yourself up in the bathroom as well, hm? You should make a good impression on our first date.”
“Seriously?” Fujigaya demands. He groans when Yokoo’s bedroom door shuts firmly, and then gets up to do what Yokoo says. Yokoo does everything properly, after all, and Fujigaya has no reason to expect that dating will be any different.
It’s funny how they divide things up. Fujigaya drives even though Yokoo refuses to tell him where they’re going, only gives him directions. Yokoo picks the restaurant but chooses Italian for Fujigaya’s sake, which does not go unnoticed. It’s casual but the food is good, the gentle buzz of anticipation in Fujigaya’s stomach a pleasant reminder that this is not the same as the thousand times they’ve eaten out together before.
“You are grinning like an idiot,” Yokoo says as they split dessert, deftly batting Fujigaya’s fork away from one of the strawberries. “You just love that you’re on a date right out in the open, don’t you? Admit it, you little exhibitionist.”
“Gladly,” Fujigaya scoffs. “I don’t care if everybody in this place knows I’m out with you. I hope they’re taking pictures to sell to shady idol shops.” Yokoo laughs, his eyes saying that he wouldn’t mind that so much himself, maybe, and Fujigaya feels thoroughly proud of himself as he snatches the strawberry and pops it in his mouth victoriously.
The only awkward moment is when the check comes and both of them reach for it. Even when they realize, neither one of them is willing to give in. For a second, the teasing teeters on the edge of being an actual argument.
“I’m not giving in,” Yokoo says bluntly, the set of his jaw stubborn. “I’m not the girl.” Fujigaya struggles with his unexpectedly strong feelings about being able to pay, then realizes that Yokoo clearly feels the same way. For the sake of ending their first date well, Fujigaya swallows his argument. They can talk about it later.
In the end, Yokoo pays, and Fujigaya hopes that means he has to put out, but he isn’t terribly surprised when Yokoo leans across the front seat to peck Fujigaya on the cheek, clearly meaning to go back up to his apartment alone.
“What is this, a Busaiku episode?” Fujigaya says with an exaggerated pout. “Try again, or else I’m giving you seventh place.”
“But then where will Nika go?” Yokoo asks, blinking innocently. Fujigaya clicks his tongue in annoyance and leans in for a proper kiss, even if it is a bit short because Yokoo pulls away to glance out the window just to make sure no one is watching.
Their schedules don’t line up well enough for a second date for a couple weeks, but Fujigaya doesn’t mind the waiting as much as he thought he would. They see each other plenty, which is a refreshing change from anyone else he’s ever dated, and if Yokoo is a little more handsy with Fujigaya than usual, Fujigaya more of a flirt, that’s certainly not something photographers and choreographers would ever complain about. For once even Duet’s staff seems pleased with what they’re getting from Fujigaya and switch over to tormenting Tamamori instead.
“But he’s touching me all over,” Tamamori whines, loud enough to carry across the soundstage. Miyata’s grip only gets firmer, grin stretching ear to ear.
“Aw, that’ll look so cute in the wedding album,” Fujigaya coos, making Yokoo snort. “So where am I taking you for our next date? I mean,” he corrects himself when Yokoo narrows his eyes at his choice of words, “what should we do?”
“Hm,” Yokoo makes a show of drawing it out as he crosses his arms and pretends to think very hard. “I was thinking...home date.”
“Really?” Fujigaya asks, trying not to get his hopes up too much. But it certainly sounds a lot more promising than anything that Yokoo let him try when they were out at the movies on their last date.
“Don’t get too excited, Romeo,” Yokoo cautions, but he smiling a little. “Just a movie and maybe if you’re good I might let you make out with me on the couch a little.”
“Any chance of light petting?” Fujigaya asks, making his eyes big and hopeful.
“If you’re very good,” Yokoo says. He gives Fujigaya a hair ruffle just to make him squawk before he saunters off to bully Nikaido and Miyata. Fujigaya sticks his tongue out at Yokoo’s back as he tries to finger-comb his hair back into place, but he can’t keep from smiling for the rest of the afternoon.
He shows up at Yokoo’s door with a bottle of Yokoo’s favorite wine, making Yokoo chuckle and tell Fujigaya how cute it is when he’s trying so hard.
“You said I had to be good.” Fujigaya gives him a fake pout, but it melts away when Yokoo leans in to kiss him hello. “Damn, it smells good in here. I love it when you cook.”
“Hopefully you’ll still love me after you taste it,” Yokoo says wryly. Fujigaya only laughs because Yokoo has to know by now that Fujigaya is at least as easy for food as he is for anything else.
They end up curled up on the couch, full of food and sleepy from the wine plus the long day, Fujigaya’s eyes drooping ten minutes into the movie from the warmth of Yokoo curled along his back, Yokoo’s arm snug around his waist. After a bit, Yokoo starts running fingers from Fujigaya’s sternum down to his waist and back up again, slow and gentle. It feels good without being overtly sexual, sending warmth spreading over Fujigaya’s skin.
“Taisuke?” Yokoo murmurs in Fujigaya’s ear. His hand slips under the bottom of Fujigaya’s shirt and he draws his fingers down Fujigaya’s bare skin. “You aren’t asleep, right?”
“No.” Fujigaya’s eyes flutter shut when Yokoo’s fingertips brush over his nipple. As Yokoo’s hand roams over his chest, dipping nearer to Fujigaya’s waistband, Fujigaya starts to feel some anxiety under the pleasure, that he’s the one being touched instead of doing the touching. He ignores it as best he can, focusing on relaxing into Yokoo’s touch.
It works really well until Yokoo shifts and rolls Fujigaya flat onto his back. When Fujigaya opens his eyes, Yokoo is leaning over him, and it’s all Fujigaya can do not to squirm. He tries to keep his unease off his face, but he’s sure he fails at it, and it only intensifies when Yokoo shifts and Fujigaya can feel him hard against his thigh.
Yokoo doesn’t rush him. He leans down for a long, slow kiss, and Fujigaya does his best to lose himself in it. He wraps arms around Yokoo’s neck and wraps Yokoo’s hair around his fingers like he’s been wanting to, Yokoo’s soft hums of approval making Fujigaya’s heart beat faster. When Yokoo breaks the kiss abruptly, Fujigaya frowns, a whine sneaking out before he can stop it.
“We should stop,” Yokoo says, the way his hands are still moving over Fujigaya’s skin saying that actually they should do anything but that. “If you aren’t ready to...”
“I don’t want to stop,” Fujigaya protests. Yokoo raises an eyebrow and drags one hand down Fujigaya’s side to his hip, and even though he knows what Yokoo is doing, Fujigaya still can’t help his little squirm of unease. “I’m not ready for that, okay. But there’s other things to do.”
“What are you suggesting?” Yokoo wants to know, looking interested but guarded, like he’s still steeling himself to have to pull back. It makes Fujigaya all the more determined to push past his discomfort at least a little, just to wipe that look off Yokoo’s face.
“I could suck you off?” Fujigaya feels smug when Yokoo blinks in surprise. “I’ve never tried it on anybody else, but I like having it done to me so I can probably figure it out. I want to make you feel good.” It’s true, and Fujigaya tries to let that show in his face rather than his nervousness.
Yokoo closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, they’re very dark. “Yeah?”
“Uh-huh.” Fujigaya draws one hand down between them until he can trace the edge of Yokoo’s cock with his fingertips. He dares a glance back up at Yokoo’s face. “You’ll still like me even if I suck at it?”
“Sucking’s what I want you to do, idiot,” is Yokoo’s response, and Fujigaya slaps at his chest and shoves him off.
They relocate to Yokoo’s bed because it will give them more room to spread out, and Yokoo gives Fujigaya one last chance to back out before stripping off his pants and stretching out on his back. Fujigaya crawls between Yokoo’s legs and settles on his stomach, trying to think about what he likes when girls do this to him.
Yokoo’s already halfway hard, and Fujigaya wraps a hand around him to stroke him a few times. It feels different than his own in his hand, thinner but in perfect proportion to the rest of Yokoo’s body, and Fujigaya finds himself thinking that Yokoo’s cock looks good sliding through his fingers.
“Taisuke, please,” Yokoo asks quietly, and Fujigaya takes a deep breath. He leans up on his elbows to lick at Yokoo’s tip, watching through the hair falling in his face for Yokoo’s reaction. Yokoo seems to like that, if the way he’s staring is any indication, so Fujigaya keeps looking up as he sucks the first few centimeters of Yokoo’s cock into his mouth. “Damn, that looks just as good as I’ve been imagining.”
Having another man’s dick his mouth isn’t as unlikeable as Fujigaya had worried. In fact, as he tries to work Yokoo deeper into his mouth, Fujigaya realizes that he likes it, or at least he like the way that Yokoo is looking down at him, the power that he has to make Yokoo squirm. He can’t get as much of Yokoo into his mouth as he’d like, though, and his jaw is already starting to get tired.
“Use your hand too,” Yokoo says, and Fujigaya finds that is a lot easier when he follows the direction. With his fist wrapped around the base of Yokoo’s cock, it’s easier to control how much of Yokoo is sliding into his mouth and how fast, easier to focus on licking and sucking Yokoo’s tip. Suddenly remembering a couple girlfriends ago, Fujigaya uses his other hand to roll Yokoo’s balls between his fingers.
It makes Yokoo sigh Fujigaya’s name, and Fujigaya likes that an awful lot. He focuses on learning what Yokoo likes, how tight he should squeeze and where he should press the tip of his tongue, just to hear Yokoo say his name like that over and over. Fujigaya is even getting a little hard himself, rocking his hips against Yokoo’s mattress for what little friction that provides. Yokoo gets his hands in Fujigaya’s hair, making Fujigaya tense for a second, but he doesn’t pull, only strokes his fingers through it or maybe guides Fujigaya’s speed a little. It feels good, gentle and affectionate, and Fujigaya enjoys it enough to regret the amount of hair pulling he’s done over the years.
Even though he enjoys sucking Yokoo off more than he expected, it’s still a relief when Yokoo warns that he’s close and tugs Fujigaya’s head up. Yokoo closes his fist around Fujigaya’s on his cock and helps Fujigaya finish him off with a few sharp strokes. Fujigaya grins despite his tired jaw, pleased with his handiwork as he looks over the white streaking Yokoo’s stomach and their hands. He even dares a lick of it off the back of his thumb before Yokoo pulls him up for a kiss.
“Thanks for working hard,” Yokoo murmurs between soft kisses, and Fujigaya would call him an asshole except he’s stroking the hinge of Fujigaya’s jaw on either side with strong fingers and it feels too amazing to argue. It’s only a minute, though, before Fujigaya is rubbing against Yokoo’s thigh, more than ready for some attention of his own.
Yokoo is a much better blowjob giver than Fujigaya is, Fujigaya will grudgingly admit, and he can certainly get more of Fujigaya into his mouth. Practice must help, Fujigaya thinks hazily; he should definitely practice more. Yokoo has no trouble at all driving Fujigaya past his limit in what feels like no time at all. He’s still coming down from his high when Yokoo crawls up his body to kiss him firmly, and by the time Fujigaya thinks to protest about where Yokoo’s mouth just was, it doesn’t seem worth it.
They curl up together under the blankets after tugging back on sweatpants, Fujigaya feeling way too fuzzy to drive and glad he doesn’t have to argue with Yokoo about it. But he’s only been basking in Yokoo’s warmth for a little while before Yokoo speaks up.
“I want you,” he says without preamble. Fujigaya goes from half-asleep to wide awake in half a second flat, heart rate rising. “Relax, not right this second. But I won’t wait ages either. I’ve already been waiting so long. If I were a girl, how many times would we have slept together already?”
Fujigaya doesn’t meet his eyes. “You keep saying, you aren’t some girl. I know I’m making you wait, but...wait.” Fujigaya thinks about some of the things Yokoo has been saying, about how he’d imagined Fujigaya with his mouth on him, and back when Fujigaya confessed, Yokoo had said something like that too. “You asked what if you already liked me,” he remembers. He’d thought Yokoo had just been talking, but one look at Yokoo’s face now says that wasn’t it at all. “Watta...how long have you been waiting?”
“It doesn’t matter,” Yokoo shrugs, sidestepping the issue. “It wasn’t something I thought I could have, so I didn’t think about it. Stop making that face, I’m not trying to make you feel guilty. I’m just telling you I can’t do this forever.”
“Watta...” Fujigaya starts, but Yokoo kisses him silent. Fujigaya is too tired to argue really, so he lets it go, trying to be content with Yokoo curled around him rather than worry about what comes next.
They can’t put it off forever though, and in the next couple weeks a tension starts building between them that’s a lot less pleasant than the unresolved sexual tension that Fujigaya had been feeling on his own before. Fujigaya’s attraction to Yokoo hasn’t changed, but whenever they get close, he can’t help the bubble of panic in his chest that he just won’t be able to be what Yokoo needs. He tries to hide it, but Yokoo can read it in his face and his body; as soon as Yokoo rolls on top of him or brushes a hand over his ass, Fujigaya goes tense all over. He does his best to make it up to Yokoo with his mouth or hands, but he knows that if it were a girl treating him this way, Fujigaya would be totally fed up with it already.
He’s fed up with himself, even. Fujigaya tries to work through it on his own, even going so far as to dig up some male/male pornography on the internet. It looks abrupt and unpleasant, and Fujigaya comes away from it feeling even more uncomfortable than before. Rationally he knows that Yokoo won’t do anything to hurt him so it must not really be like that, but those AV actors sure hadn’t looked like they’d been having a good time on the bottom. And Yokoo himself doesn’t want to do it either, right? Fujigaya can’t help but think about it like that when he can’t come up with something else to try besides...it.
As they start to plan their next tour, the tension between them thickens until finally, right in the middle of Fujigaya mentioning their shared hotel room, Yokoo’s patience snaps.
“We shouldn’t room together,” Yokoo cuts him off mid-word.
For a second, Fujigaya just blinks at him, stunned. “Why? We’ve always...”
“Because you won’t want to do it then either, right?”
“During concerts?” Fujigaya scowls. “Of course not! I’ll have to dance, you know!”
Yokoo’s jaw clenches, like he’s struggling to keep his temper in check. “So we can’t room together.”
“It isn’t like anybody is going to switch with us,” Fujigaya says, not doing so well with his own temper. “Nika and Ken-chan definitely wouldn’t, and if you think I’m sharing a room with Kitayama all fucking tour, you can think again!”
“Well, what exactly do you expect me to do about it?” Yokoo retorts. “Taisuke, I can’t spend night after night so close to you when I can’t be with you. It’s hard enough even now, I won’t do it while we’re doing concerts at the same time. Am I just supposed to pretend I don’t care that you’d rather ride the stage than me? And don’t pretend like you won’t spend all those shows flirting and teasing me, and we both know it won’t go anywhere.”
“You weren’t complaining last time I spent the night,” Fujigaya says, voice frosty. “Just because I’m not ready to--”
“You’re never going to be ready, Taisuke!” Yokoo explodes, and they should not be having this argument in a hallway where staff or anybody else could hear them, but Yokoo looks like he cares about as much as Fujigaya does. “You say you will, but it’s been weeks and it’s exactly like it was at the beginning! This is why I didn’t want to do this, I told you!”
“What about you, huh?!” Fujigaya snarls back, words spilling out before he can think about them. “You won’t change either! Even if I do what you want, why should you get your way all the time? You try it the other way and then we’ll talk about whose fault it is!”
“It’s mine,” Yokoo says, voice suddenly flat like he flipped a switch to turn off his emotions, and that drives Fujigaya crazier than anything. “For letting you talk me into this when I knew it would turn out just like this. Forget it, already. Let’s just stop here.”
He turns to go without another word, and for a second Fujigaya only stares at Yokoo’s retreating back, too furious to even form sounds.
“Get back here!” he finally manages, but Yokoo doesn’t even pause. “I’m not done shouting at you, you son of a bitch!”
They avoid each other for the rest of the day, and it’s just as well that they’re busy enough to make that possible. Sadly, Fujigaya can’t avoid all the members of his unit. Kitayama takes one look at him and demands to know what Fujigaya did.
“Listen to me,” Fujigaya says, voice dangerously calm, “you tiny, egg-eating, mis-matched little--”
“Okay, how about I talk to Taipi over here for a minute,” Senga interrupts before Fujigaya can get himself punched right in the face, and the look Kitayama gives him plainly says it’s a good thing Senga is so cute and they need Fujigaya to shake his ass for fangirls.
“Oh, leave me alone,” Fujigaya grumbles when Senga tugs him out of the room. But he thaws a little when Senga just hugs him tightly.
“Damn, you need like a hundred more of these. Come home with me tonight and we can talk,” Senga offers. “Try not to get fired the rest of the day?”
“No promises,” Fujigaya says, but lets Senga squeeze him one last time before they go back in. He spends the rest of their meetings typing on his phone, and if Manager-san gives him a lot of dirty looks, she sure wouldn’t be any happier if Fujigaya leapt the table to choke the life out of his boyfriend.
Maybe ex-boyfriend. Fujigaya isn’t even sure.
Fujigaya tells himself he’s only going over there to humor Senga and because it feels good to have a friend right now, but Senga has a way of getting people to tell him everything, and Fujigaya is hardly immune. Fujigaya has told him the whole story before he’s had even a third of his beer, and then slumps against the back of Senga’s couch like a deflated balloon now that he’s run out of hot air.
“But you knew most of that, right?” Fujigaya asks, turning his head to see Senga’s reaction. “You know us pretty well.”
“I suspected a lot of it, yeah,” Senga admits. “Ah, it’s a mess. You two are so good for each other, but you’re way too stubborn.”
“He’s the one--”
“You both are,” Senga says sternly. “Did you think you could really do something so important without both of you giving a little? No wonder no girl can ever last with you. Well, that plus you’re in love with Watta, so.”
“I just don’t think I can do what he wants me to,” Fujigaya sighs. “I tried, but...you know I even watched gay porn for that jerk? That was a total mistake, it made me want to quit fucking anybody ever. How do they make any money off that? Who likes watching people having sex they hate? Even American porn isn’t that bad.”
“Clearly, you weren’t watching the right kind,” Senga announces, then gets up and trots to his bedroom. When he returns with his laptop, Fujigaya’s shakes his head.
“No no no. Ken-chan, I am not watching pornography with you,” Fujigaya protests. Senga shushes him and drops the laptop on the coffee table in front of him. “Hey, I mean it...”
“Shush, I said,” Senga orders. He finds the file he’s looking for and double-clicks it, then starts scrolling through what looks like a thoroughly embarrassing karaoke date. “Of course you think sex looks awful, if all you did was watch terrible internet porn. Why can’t you ever ask for help before it’s all serious? Here, just watch.”
Fujigaya squirms and whines a little, but Senga only points at the screen. On it, the two male AV actors are kissing in bed and taking their time about it. There’s a lot more touching than in the clips that Fujigaya watched, both men running fingers through each other’s hair and down their arms and backs, and if Fujigaya didn’t know better he might think they actually liked each other. It’s hot, enough that Fujigaya is shifting a little after a minute of it.
Senga touches Fujigaya’s shoulder, making him jump. “I’ll be in my room, come get me when you’re done watching.” Fujigaya nods, eyes still glued to the screen, but he appreciates Senga’s attempt to give him some privacy.
It couldn’t be more different than the other stuff that Fujigaya was watching. The top is patient and gentle, looking up to watch the other man’s reactions. It’s the bottom who gets impatient, urging on the top with soft words and tugging hands, and he looks like he’s having a pretty good time as the top fingers him open. When the top finally gives in and pushes inside, only to stretch out over top of the bottom to kiss him some more, a sharp pang of longing tightens Fujigaya’s chest.
He wants that, wants Yokoo. He wants Yokoo to take care of him and touch him and kiss him just like that. He’s still nervous, and still thinks it’s unfair that he’s the one who has to give in for this to work, but Fujigaya does want it to work. He doesn’t want to give up Yokoo over something as stupid as who fucks who when.
And he really really wants Yokoo to make him moan like the bottom on Senga’s laptop screen is doing. At least that’s what Fujigaya keeps telling himself an hour later when he’s standing in front of Yokoo’s apartment complex, leaning on the buzzer and worried more than a little that Yokoo might refuse to let him up.
He’s all prepared to start convincing right over the intercom, so it’s a little bit of a letdown when Yokoo just buzzes him in without saying anything. Fujigaya’s barely got the door shut behind him when it all comes spilling out anyway.
“Don’t room with anyone else,” he says, making Yokoo raise his eyebrows even though he doesn’t uncross his arms. “I want you and I know you want me, and okay, so it’s all a big mess, but don’t be so ready to give up! I...” Fujigaya has to swallow to get any more words out. “...I don’t want to give up. I don’t want to stop here.”
He looks up at Yokoo with pleading eyes, and Yokoo’s expression softens. He unfolds his arms to wrap them around Fujigaya instead, and Fujigaya swallows a little sob of relief as he squeezes Yokoo back as tight as he can.
“About what you said...” Yokoo starts.
“Forget it,” Fujigaya interrupts, burying his face against Yokoo’s neck, just breathing in the way that he smells. “I don’t care, I shouldn’t have said any of that.”
“No, you were right,” Yokoo says, and Fujigaya freezes in surprise. “What I’m asking you to do isn’t fair when I won’t do it either. Yuta said I was being like a little kid.”
“Tama-chan did?” Fujigaya can’t stop the snickers that bubble out. Yokoo grunts, sounding not too pleased about it. “You got sex therapy from Tama-chan? Aw, but I guess it didn’t turn out any better on my end. Ken-chan made me watch gay porn.”
Yokoo laughs this time, hard enough to make Fujigaya’s chest buzz with it.
“These dumb kouhai,” Fujigaya grumbles, rubbing his cheek against Yokoo’s shoulder. “It’s totally annoying how we need them and they keep being right. Hey, you’ll take care of me, right? You’ll make me feel good?”
Yokoo’s breath catches. “Taisuke, that’s all I want to do.”
“Good.” Fujigaya turns his head to kiss Yokoo, slow like they have all the time in the world to figure it out. Yokoo kisses him back like the best apology Fujigaya has ever heard, and Fujigaya presses closer, heart speeding and feeling like he could do anything Yokoo asked of him right now. He pulls back just far enough to ask, “Take me to bed? Quick, while I still want to do everything you say.”
“As appealing as that is,” Yokoo steals another kiss, “I’d rather not take advantage of you in your desperate state. Doesn’t seem sporting.”
“Are you kidding me?” Fujigaya demands, shoving at Yokoo’s chest. “Now I’m asking you to fuck me and you won’t? I watched porn! Help a guy out! And what about all this makeup sex Miyacchi’s always raving about, why don’t I get any of that?”
“I didn’t say that.” Yokoo flashes Fujigaya a grin that’s all fang and makes Fujigaya’s pulse race before he drops to his knees. He rubs his cheek against the front of Fujigaya’s jeans, looking up at him while Fujigaya scrabbles at the wall for balance. “You thought it was hot, I see.”
“There was kissing,” Fujigaya says, trying and failing to sound casual while Yokoo is tugging at his zipper. He gets his hands in Yokoo’s hair, making Yokoo’s eyes flutter, combing it back from his face. “And they kept touching each other, all over.”
“Like this?” Yokoo pulls out Fujigaya’s cock and gives him a slow stroke. Fujigaya pushes up against his hand and doesn’t bother to muffle his groan, Yokoo’s neighbors be damned.
“Please,” Fujigaya begs, and maybe there’s something to this makeup sex thing after all if this is how desperate he feels just from Yokoo’s hand and the way he’s looking up to watch all of Fujigaya’s reactions. “Please, Watta, come on.”
Yokoo sucks Fujigaya’s cock into his mouth without any further coaxing, not teasing at all. He hollows his cheeks and sucks hard enough to make Fujigaya’s eyes roll back. Yokoo knows all of Fujigaya’s sensitive spots well enough by now and uses them to his advantage, dragging his tongue down the underside of Fujigaya’s shaft and letting his teeth scrape just a little, just enough to keep Fujigaya making a steady stream of noise.
“I’m close,” Fujigaya warns, tugging on Yokoo’s hair, but Yokoo only goes on looking up at Fujigaya with that same dark, interested gaze as he makes Fujigaya fall apart. Fujigaya shudders from head to toe, glad he has the wall to lean against as he comes. He’s still shivering when Yokoo sucks him clean and lets Fujigaya slip out of his mouth, but Yokoo doesn’t move just yet. He lays his cheek against Fujigaya’s thigh, looking up at him.
“Still want to?” he asks, one of his hands sliding up the back of Fujigaya’s thigh to brush just under Fujigaya’s tailbone.
“Uh-huh,” Fujigaya says, feeling breathless. His heart stutters nervously but he still feels good all over from orgasm, little waves of pleasure rippling over his skin. If Yokoo can make him feel like this, then Fujigaya can trust him a little further.
Fujigaya tugs Yokoo up from the floor and doesn’t let go of his hand as he leads the way to Yokoo’s bedroom, his undone jeans slipping down until it’s easier just to kick them off. He kicks them into Yokoo’s bedroom to keep Yokoo from scolding him about leaving stuff all over the hallway, even if they’re still in a heap on the floor. He shouldn’t have worried, though, because when he turns Yokoo is already stripping off his own shirt and pants and leaving them in an equally messy pile.
“You want me that much, huh?” Fujigaya teases, grinning.
“Yes,” Yokoo says, like obviously, and then he tugs Fujigaya’s close to kiss him breathless.
When he’s got Fujigaya spread out on his back in his bed, Yokoo slows down a little, trailing hands up Fujigaya’s sides and arms as he kisses him over and over. It feels so good, little shivers running all over Fujigaya’s skin as he stretches under the attention. He draws his own hands over the warm skin of Yokoo’s back and for once Yokoo’s weight over top of him seems comforting instead of making him more anxious.
“Ready?” Yokoo asks eventually, sliding his lips up Fujigaya’s jaw. When he licks at Fujigaya’s earlobe, Fujigaya whines and arches against him.
“Yeah, I think so.” Fujigaya takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “It’s okay.”
Yokoo sits up and reaches over Fujigaya to pull a tube of lube and a condom out of his bedside table, then warms some lube between his fingers. “I’ll go slow, so tell me if it’s too much.”
“Okay.” Fujigaya jumps a little when Yokoo rubs fingers against the inside of his thigh, but he goes on taking slow, steady breaths to try and keep as calm as he can. When Yokoo’s touch moves to his hole, it’s weird, but feels sort of good too as Yokoo works his skin slick. “Oh,” Fujigaya says, surprised.
“You never touched yourself here?” Yokoo asks, and Fujigaya shakes his head. He uses his free hand to start stroking Fujigaya’s cock. Fujigaya isn’t hard but it still feels good, and is a little bit of a distraction. “It can feel good even if you’re by yourself.”
“What?” Fujigaya frowns. Has he been missing out all this time? Because Yokoo’s fingers are feeling better all the time as Fujigaya relaxes into it and starts to get hard.
“Who would have thought I’d know something about sex that you didn’t?” Yokoo chuckles when Fujigaya sticks his tongue out. “I’m going to try a finger, okay?” When Fujigaya doesn’t protest, Yokoo starts working the tip of one of his fingers in. Fujigaya’s body does not seem terribly interested in that, and Fujigaya wonders how exactly Yokoo plans to get his whole dick in there. “Relax, Taisuke. It’s only me.”
“Does it really go in there?” Fujigaya asks.
“It will,” Yokoo promises. “Come on, open up for me. I can’t make you feel good if I can’t even get in there. Close your eyes and think about something you like.”
“Hm.” Fujigaya obeys, letting his shoulders flop back against the bed, his neck a bit tired from trying to hold himself up enough to watch. He thinks about Yokoo in the hallway, about Yokoo watching him intently while his cock slides in and out of Yokoo’s wet lips.
“There you go,” Yokoo encourages, finally making some progress. His fingers are so long, and Fujigaya squirms a little as Yokoo brushes his finger over places that Fujigaya’s never been touched before. “What are you thinking about?”
“Your mouth,” Fujigaya says, voice soft because he can’t seem to get enough air. “You looking up at me while you suck me off.”
“You’re certainly worth looking at,” Yokoo says, and it’s silly but it makes Fujigaya feel so good to hear it. “You should see yourself like this, all spread out, spreading your legs for me. It looks so good, Taisuke.”
“Embarrassing,” Fujigaya mutters, but warmth is spreading out all over his skin. “Keep talking, I think it’s helping.”
“You feel good too,” Yokoo goes on cooperatively. “I’m putting a second finger in. It’s amazing watching my fingers slide into you. Does it feel good yet?”
“Feels...weird.” Fujigaya feels more of a stretch now, and it doesn’t hurt exactly but it’s harder to relax into. He tries to focus on the idea of it instead, how he wants to let Yokoo in, how it’s like Yokoo is stroking him on the inside just like he touches Fujigaya’s skin on the outside. “Not bad, but...” He trails off as Yokoo brushes something that makes Fujigaya’s breath catch. “What...”
“There?” Yokoo brushes that spot again, and Fujigaya doesn’t understand what’s going on but suddenly his legs are spreading wider on their own like it’s a thing his body really wants. “See? I said I’d make you feel good. Want more?”
“Y-yes?” Fujigaya isn’t sure, but it’s okay so long as Yokoo doesn’t stop. He wants something, that’s for sure, wants more than two of Yokoo’s fingers, and no wonder that AV guy was squirming all over because Fujigaya sure is.
“Easy, easy,” Yokoo soothes, letting go of Fujigaya’s cock to press his hand flat on Fujigaya’s stomach, holding him down a little. His palm is so hot, and it feels so good against Fujigaya’s skin. “Three might hurt, but just breathe.”
“Oka--oh fuck,” Fujigaya says, because Yokoo’s warning is 100% accurate. The stretch turns into more of a burn, and it’s surely not pleasant, but Fujigaya still feels those shivers of heat all over and all of the feelings are all mixed together until he’s not sure what’s good and what’s bad. In a minute it starts to ease anyway, or maybe Fujigaya just gets used to it. Either way, Yokoo rubs at that spot some more and Fujigaya is right back to wanting to do everything he says.
“Are you okay?” Yokoo asks. Fujigaya peels his eyes open to find Yokoo looking him over, worry and lust both obvious on his face.
“Uh-huh.” Fujigaya holds out his arms. “Enough, already. Do it, okay? I’m tired of waiting.”
Yokoo pulls his fingers free, but to Fujigaya’s surprise he doesn’t reach for the condom yet. Instead he crawls up to lie over top of Fujigaya, resting on his elbows so that he can see Fujigaya’s face. Fujigaya whines a little at how Yokoo settles right between his legs, rocking up against him.
“You’re really sure?” Yokoo asks one more time, and Fujigaya nods.
“Tell me you want me?” Fujigaya asks.
“I want you so much,” Yokoo answers, heartfelt. “I’ve been thinking about you for so long, but having you right here is so much better than what I’ve been imagining.”
“Come on, then,” Fujigaya says, grinning from Yokoo’s words. “Quit imagining already.”
Both of their hands are shaking, but somehow they get the condom onto Yokoo’s cock and then he’s pushing inside Fujigaya one long centimeter at a time. It’s nothing like his fingers and it steals Fujigaya’s breath. His eyes tear up a little and he squeezes them shut so Yokoo won’t see and stop.
“Okay?” Yokoo asks, voice shaking, and Fujigaya realizes that Yokoo’s thighs are flush against his, the whole way inside.
“Yeah,” Fujigaya lies, trying to hold as still as possible until the sting of it eases.
“Take your time.” Yokoo puts his hands on Fujigaya’s sides and rubs soothing little circles on his skin, his touch warm and comforting. “There’s no rush. I can’t believe I’m inside you.”
“Yeah,” Fujigaya says again, brain mostly off-line. He’s digging his fingers into Yokoo’s arms hard enough to probably hurt, he realizes. When he peels them off, the skin underneath goes pink with restored blood flow. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine,” Yokoo assures, sliding his hands up to Fujigaya’s shoulders and then down his arms until he reaches Fujigaya’s hands. Fujigaya curls his fingers through Yokoo’s automatically, and being able to squeeze Yokoo’s hands helps. “You’re perfect.”
“Shut up, you,” Fujigaya says, even though he loves it. “Get on with it, I’m okay. I am,” he insists when Yokoo only looks down at him dubiously. “I know you like being inside me but we can’t do this for a million years. We do have to show up at work.”
“Shh, you’ll give Duet ideas.” Yokoo shifts his weight, getting his knees under him. “And I want you all to myself.”
His first thrust feels like electricity down all of Fujigaya’s nerves as Yokoo slides out and pushes back in, so slowly. Fujigaya is still clinging to Yokoo’s hands and he squeezes his fingers tight through Yokoo’s as Yokoo starts to speed up. It does feel good, different than anything else, not the same as fucking somebody else at all, and Fujigaya curls his legs around Yokoo’s thighs on impulse, wanting him closer, as close as they can get.
“Taisuke,” Yokoo gasps, and Fujigaya shudders at the sound of Yokoo’s voice, so low and rough and just for him. “Let me touch you?”
Reluctantly Fujigaya lets go of Yokoo’s hands but he puts his freedom to good use, reaching up to push back Yokoo’s hair and stroke the sides of his face and down his neck to his shoulders. Yokoo wraps a hand around Fujigaya’s cock, using his other hand to steady Fujigaya’s hip, and as soon as he starts squeezing in time with his thrusts, suddenly Fujigaya is a lot closer to coming than he thought.
“Wait, don’t,” he pants, because he doesn’t want it to end yet. “Don’t want to come.”
“So much trouble,” Yokoo accuses, out of breath himself. “But I’m not going to last much longer anyway. Let me see you come, Taisuke. I want to feel it from inside.”
“Watta, fuck,” Fujigaya groans, Yokoo’s words going right to his cock. His body seems to agree, hips rocking up into Yokoo’s fist and down against Yokoo’s cock all on their own. He tries to hold off just a little longer, just a little more, but Yokoo says his name again and Fujigaya is coming over Yokoo’s hand and his stomach, orgasm totally different now that his body is contracting around something, drawing it out. He’s shivering all over by the time it’s done, brain fuzzy with pleasure.
“Damn, you’re amazing,” Yokoo says softly, and Fujigaya opens his eyes to find Yokoo staring at him with eyes so dark he wants to drown in them.
“Wanna see too,” he says, reaching for Yokoo, wanting to touch all of him if he could just make his dumb body cooperate. “Come for me, please?”
Yokoo doesn’t make him wait long, closing his eyes and thrusting with purpose. It’s a little too much for Fujigaya, but he bites down on his lip and refuses to say stop, wanting to see Yokoo lose it more. It’s so worth it when Yokoo shudders and spills inside Fujigaya, Yokoo’s back arched with pleasure and his face lit up.
He collapses heavily on Fujigaya’s chest, mumbling an apology, but Fujigaya tells him to shush, not to move. He wraps arms around Yokoo’s shoulders and hugs him as tightly as his tired limbs will allow, his need for cuddling a lot more intense than usual. Fujigaya doesn’t know if that’s from being fucked or if it’s just because it’s Yokoo fucking him, but he doesn’t care either way so long as Yokoo stays right there.
“We should clean up,” Yokoo sighs, breath tickling Fujigaya’s chest. “You should soak in the bath or you’ll hate me in a couple hours.”
“You’ll take care of me,” Fujigaya says airily, even though he’s the one making it impossible.
“Will you take care of me when we switch?” Yokoo asks, so casually that for a second it goes right by Fujigaya.
“When we...” Fujigaya catches his breath suddenly. “Watta?”
“If you want.” Yokoo shifts just enough that they can look at each other. “Next time--”
Fujigaya cuts him off with a bruising kiss, happiness and love and post-sex affection rushing through his veins, and it’s way too much for him to deal with right now.
“Not just yet,” he murmurs against Yokoo’s lips. “I like it when you do all the work.”
“Idiot,” Yokoo says, both of them grinning too hard to make the kissing really worth much, but Fujigaya hardly cares. Then Yokoo pushes himself up to make the angle better and slips out of Fujigaya, and Fujigaya goes still all over and calls him half a dozen names without taking a breath, fingers digging into Yokoo’s shoulders tight enough to make him yelp.
Fujigaya forgives him after a hot bath and being tucked back into bed, Yokoo warm all along his back.
“I can’t wait for tour,” he sighs happily at random, and Yokoo’s arm tightens around his waist.
“You know,” Yokoo murmurs in Fujigaya’s ear, making Fujigya shiver, “I love how you look after we get done with a show and you’re just coming out of the shower, hair wet and skin damp and lit up all over still...”
“Mmm,” Fujigaya rolls over to press his mouth to Yokoo’s, sweet and full of promise. “I can definitely work with that.”
The next few weeks rush by, filled with concert prep and promotions, and before Fujigaya knows it, they’re on stage doing dress rehearsal at the first venue. It’s hotter than hell under the lights, and Fujigaya knows he looks like an idiot with his hair done held back with a bandana and a pair of leopard print pants that even Senga would think twice about.
But the way Yokoo looks at him when he’s watching Fujigaya’s solo from the wings makes Fujigaya feel like he’s done up perfectly.
“So how was it?” Fujigaya asks when his run-through is over and he can saunter over to Yokoo.
“You look great,” Yokoo tells him.
“Yeah, I know, but how was the solo?” Fujigaya laughs when Yokoo rolls his eyes. “Honestly, do you think we’re ready?”
“We never are, and yet somehow it always works out at the last second,” Yokoo says, some of his own stage anxiety showing through his easy banter. It’s always worst just before the first show, and Fujigaya knows Yokoo is thinking about their debut tour, when they had to stay up all night after the first show redoing half the setlist. Then Yokoo shakes it off and gives Fujigaya a leer. “Good thing I have you to distract me tonight.”
“Whoa there, cowboy,” Fujigaya says wryly, but before he can point out that both of them have to dance all weekend, a ruckus on stage makes them both turn.
“Get off!” Tamamori is hollering, trying and failing to shake off a clinging Miyata while Kitayama and Nikaido film shamelessly with the hand cameras. “They’ll put this on the DVD, you jerk!”
“Why do you think I’m doing it?” Miyata says, taking an elbow to the ribs with a grunt, but his smile doesn’t dim. He informs Kitayama’s camera, “This is Tamamori Yuta and he’s mine, so hands off, ladies. You can look, but no touching~. Ah, guys too.”
“THAT’S IT!” Tamamori roars, giving Miyata a shove that sends him crashing to the stage, arms flailing. His cheeks are bright pink and his eyes are glittering with fury. “That’s the last straw! Kitamitsu, you can have him! I’d rather room with GAYA!”
Nikaido’s shocked face is so comical that Kitayama struggles to hold his camera steady as he laughs, swinging it over to film Fujigaya’s reaction to that.
“Sorry, Tama-chan,” Fujigaya calls back. “The WattaTai room is at full occupancy.” He grins even wider when he feels Yokoo’s arm curl around his shoulders, tugging him closer.
“And you aren’t on the guest list,” Yokoo adds. Fujigaya flashes a cute little peace sign.
Throwing his hands in the air in frustration, Tamamori stomps off the other side of the stage, hollering for Senga, and Nikaido dashes after him, yelling that Tamamori can’t have Kenpi either, both of them being trailed by a still-filming Kitayama.
“This is the reason our makings-of are so short,” Fujigaya laments. Yokoo kisses his cheek noisily and lets him go.
“Also the fact that we’re not allowed to film in our rooms under any circumstances,” Yokoo chuckles. “Speaking of that, I am definitely looking forward to being the room that keeps the NiSen room up all night this time.”
“Such big talk,” Fujigaya says, shaking his head. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”
“I’ll tell you where I’m going to put my mouth...”
“Um, I’m still here, guys,” Miyata pipes up from where he’s picking himself up off the floor. “But hey, glad you two worked it out and all. Ken-chan said he had to take drastic measures. And Tama-chan said--”
“That brat,” Yokoo growls at Tamamori’s usual inability to keep a confidence, making Fujigaya laugh. “Like you two aren’t four times as dysfunctional as us.”
“It’s not dysfunctional if I like it,” Miyata says guilelessly, and Fujigaya tugs Yokoo deeper backstage with him before that conversation can go any further. When they’re tucked in a corner behind some scaffolding, Fujigaya reasonably sure that nobody will stumble over them, Fujigaya pulls Yokoo close enough for a quick kiss.
“I think you were saying something about keeping me up all night?” he prompts, brushing his nose along Yokoo’s cheek. “That doesn’t sound very responsible of you, Yokoo-san.”
“What can I say, you bring out new sides of me all the time,” Yokoo says, sliding hands up Fujigaya’s T-shirt to rest on the bare skin of his waist. “You know, if you wanted...”
A flash of heat ignites in Fujigaya’s chest when he realizes what Yokoo’s offering. For a second he considers it, pulling back to look at Yokoo’s face. Yokoo looks back at him seriously.
“I do want,” Fujigaya says, “but not on tour. Not with idiots listening through either wall in some hotel bed that hundreds of strangers have probably done it in. I’d rather be comfortable in bed at home. I want you, but I can wait.”
Yokoo’s smile makes Fujigaya feel warm through and through, and he knows it’s the right choice. They’ll get there, maybe sooner than Fujigaya thought, if he isn’t imagining that bit of disappointment in Yokoo’s eyes.
“You think I’m worth waiting for?” Yokoo asks, mostly teasing, and Fujigaya kisses him soundly, the only right answer to such a stupid question.