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[personal profile] zukkokya
Title: Only Crumbs
Fandom: JE - Kanjani∞
Pairing/characters: Yoko/Hina
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,600~
Disclaimer: Total fiction.
Summary: Yoko rarely wins these battles against himself.
Note: For [livejournal.com profile] spurious! Who was wonderful and offered to compile a Fic Index for me. In exchange, she gets AWKWARD ROMANCE. ♥

According to Maru, who’s actually visited the place recently, Hina’s been keeping his apartment temperature somewhere between the levels of the inside of a furnace and the solar-facing side of Mercury. Yoko brings this up on Recomen whenever he remembers to and berates Hina for wasting energy and being a drain on national resources. Hina shouts him down every time, always indignant and extra loud.

“It’s not that hot!” he’ll insist. “Maru’s lying to make me look bad.”

“What degree do you crank it up to?” Yoko will push.

“I have no idea! It changes every day depending on the weather!”

“Give me a range then! Between something degrees and something degrees. Go.”

“No! It’s none of your business! Why are we even talking about this? Weren’t we going to call one of the members?”

It’s been a month since Maru told Yoko about the 3DLK rain forest Hina lives in, and Yoko still doesn’t know if it’s true or not. He’d go check it out for himself, but he can’t exactly go over there uninvited, and he hasn’t been invited to Hina’s apartment in, like, twelve weeks. Not that he’s counting — he’s just exaggerating for effect.

(The number’s probably bigger than that, anyway.)

For the first time in — possibly ever? Subaru drags them all out drinking after work. Yoko can tell that something’s happened to him, something good, but Subaru won’t spill. Instead, he channels all of his positive energy into congratulating himself at the top of his voice and trying to drink himself under the table. He succeeds, but not without some heavy opposition from Hina. Toward the end of the night — and Subaru’s alcohol tolerance — Hina valiantly tries to replace Subaru’s sake cup with a water glass, but Subaru’s too experienced for that trick. He’s also not above using molestation or public embarrassment to get his alcohol back, and he uses both of those tactics relentlessly and without shame until he’s emptied the cup and licked the edge clean.

Yoko’s profoundly amused by the whole spectacle and takes about twelve pictures with his phone. When Subaru notices the camera flashes, he pauses in the middle of his rant about airplanes that resemble misshapen penises, shouts, “MARRY HIM ALREADY,” and then passes out on the table.

It’s only after Hina and Maru gather Subaru up to take him home and Yoko’s looking over his photos that he realizes every single one he took has only Hina in the frame.

A week later, he accepts a role in a drama and the scheduling means he has to miss at least one episode of Recomen. Subaru offers to fill in for him, since his current schedule consists of weekly Kanjani programming, vigorous masturbation, and Monster Hunter marathons, and Yoko accepts, comfortable in the knowledge that he’s leaving the show in acceptably funny hands. After Thursday’s filming wraps up, Yoko listens to the show in his car. He diverts off his normal route home without giving his motivations much thought and drives around the block the studio’s on three times. He doesn’t call in or go up to the studio itself, but he considers it seriously a few times.

Ultimately, he turns his car toward the freeway, jacks up the heat until he’s sweating, and wonders why he’s always so afraid.

Hina sits on his lap in Janiben’s green room the next day, the contours of his body familiar and warm where they fit into Yoko’s. About five minutes later, Ryo, professionally made up and expertly dressed, crosses the room to ask Hina to scratch a spot on his back that he can’t reach. Hina does it because he’s weird, and Ryo moans because he’s turned on by everything, so Yoko makes fun of both of them, but with only half the amount of energy the situation demands.

Ryo continues today’s lukewarm trend by yawning and walking away to play with Ohkura’s ass cheeks (something Ohkura frankly deserves for falling asleep on his stomach). As soon as Ryo’s out of earshot, Hina looks at Yoko over his shoulder with a skeptical expression.

“Are you okay?”

Yoko’s face heats up. “Yeah,” he mutters.

“Are you sure?” Hina stands up and presses his mouth to Yoko’s forehead. “You’re not sick?”

Yoko smacks his waist. “You could have just asked me that before you kissed me!”

“It wasn’t a kiss,” Hina says. “That’s how you check someone’s temperature.”


Hina smiles at him for so long that Yoko doesn’t have the heart or the inspiration to keep complaining.

Of course, it turns out he is sick, and it escalates overnight into an aggressive fever. He sleeps through six of Mitsuru’s calls and only wakes up when his brother shakes him and yells. Yoko says says his name, exhausted but worried, and then lets his stinging eyes close.

When he next opens them, he’s in a dark, sweltering room coughing himself awake.

“Ah, Mitsuru, he’s awake. Do you want to talk to him? Okay. Sure, hang on.”

A phone’s pressed into his hand and Yoko automatically bitches, “Too heavy.” He talks to Mitsuru until his throat won’t tolerate his voice anymore and he muffles his coughing with his elbow while Hina takes the phone from him and says goodnight to Mitsuru.

“Time?” Yoko croaks.

Hina gives him a severe scowl. “You were sick,” he snaps.

Yoko expects the smack but he moans an objection anyway.

“I told you you were sick,” Hina continues. “How did you get sick so fast? You’re not working that much.”

The unfairness of that is brutal and since Yoko can’t speak he tries to express his outrage by glaring, but he’s always been more of a words guy and Hina doesn’t seem to be appropriately cowed.

“Stay put,” Hina says. “Go back to sleep.”

“My throat hurts,” Yoko whines.

“I know,” Hina says, a degree quieter. “I just set up my extra humidifier in the corner, so you should breathe easier soon. I put water near your hand, so don’t knock it over, and—”

“Thank you,” Yoko blurts.

Hina stares at him, unreadable. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course.”

Embarrassed for probably no reason (when are any of his reasons actually actual reasons?) Yoko flops over onto his side, turning his back on Hina, and ducks his chin low to his chest. He waits until Hina’s walked out of the room to let the pressure building in his chest erupt into a painful coughing fit.

He’s not dying, so after six hours of coughing and wishing he were dying, Yoko downs the stuff Hina gives him with a cup of water and the two of them head to work together. Yoko feels nauseous all day and turns down every offer of nourishment both substantial and meager. He realizes around noon that he was in Hina’s apartment for the first time in months and was too uncomfortable and embarrassed by the volume of his coughing to appreciate it.

How did he even get there? Did Hina drive over to his apartment and carry him into his car and—just imagining it makes Yoko want to die.

He decides he doesn’t care how it happened. If he cares, he’ll ask someone, and someone will tell him, and he doesn’t want to know.

During the drive to WinkUp’s photo shoot, Yoko nestles into Maru’s shoulder and both of them giggle when he accidentally soaks Maru’s shirt with phlegm. When Hina hits him even though he’s sick, Yoko’s throat doesn’t magically clear up and his head still feels like it’s crammed full of hot nails, but something about the stab of pain from the smack makes him feel stronger.

The fever subsides after a day, but the illness hangs on for another week. Mitsuru tries to be a mature grown-up by buying organic soups and attempting to cook them with herbs and spices while Yoko attempts to smother himself to sleep with his pillow. The kid succeeds in that Yoko’s never been prouder of him and keeps getting ambushed by frequent and sporadic urges to hug him, but his illness is unimpressed.

He does Recomen with four layers on and sniffles as far out of range of the mic as he can. He coughs into the sleeves he’s pulled over his hands, rests his aching head on the table, and drinks the water Hina keeps pushing at him whenever they go to break. As the night goes on, Yoko’s face turns redder and redder, and his “thank you”s get quieter and quieter.

Three days later, Yoko marches into the middle of their dressing room, shouts, “I AM ABOUT TO PERFORM A FEAT,” and breathes through his nose as hard as he can.

Yasu, Subaru, and Maru applaud the way they should, but Ohkura just smirks and Ryo laughs. Hina stands up from getting his hair styled to belt him across the back of the head and call him a moron.

“And you love me,” Yoko says, feeling healthy and clear-chested and brave. “That reflects kind of badly on you, doesn’t it?”

Across the room, Subaru nods solemnly, still applauding.

Hina just laughs and says, “Yeah, I guess it does.”

It takes Yoko twelve hours to convince himself that he imagined the fondness in Hina’s voice.
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