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Fic: Metronome (Ryo+Yasu)
Title: Metronome
Fandom: JE - Kanjani∞
Pairing/characters: Subaru+Yasu (Ryo+Yasu)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 750~
Disclaimer: Total fiction.
Summary: Subaru wasn't the first to find out.
Note: Please consider this sequence of events a reason not to tell your friend to assign you batsu fic if you don't complete your writing on schedule.
Subaru circles his hotel room three or four times, gearing up for a Conversation, then heads down the hall to knock on Yasu's door. Something's been off with Yasu all day, and Subaru's finally given up hope that Yasu will fix the problem himself.
It's two in the morning, but that shouldn't make much of a difference–he knocks pretty loud.
Yasu opens the door. "Oh," he says, startled. "Are you–I, um. Hello?" He's still in the soft orange pajama pants and sleeveless gray and lavender patchwork shirt he put on after rehearsal earlier.
Subaru is struck by how much he really wants to turn around and go back to his room. It's Yasu's face, mostly–he looks so drawn and sad–and besides that, Subaru is fucking terrible at things like this. He once tried to talk Tsubasa down from a mild case of stage fright and ended up giving him a panic attack instead. So, really, he should just go back to–
Well.
He's here now, and it'd be harder to walk away from Yasu looking like this than it will be to endure whatever awkwardness is waiting for him inside Yasu's hotel room, so Subaru ducks his head and invites himself in.
For the first time ever they've all got their own hotel rooms, but the thrill of freedom has kind of been dimmed by the size of the rooms. Yasu's bed is about three strides away from the door, and the curtained window is about a step and a half farther than that. When they sit on the bed, there's hardly enough space for them to face each other. To do it, they have to sit kind of jammed together with their shinbones angled hot and damp against each other.
Yasu's stare is too direct and far too lonely, so Subaru rambles feverishly for twenty minutes and Yasu listens to him, patient as ever, with a solemn expression that doesn't even remotely match the tone of the inane things Subaru's telling him. But that's what's always set Yasu apart from everyone else in Subaru's world–he knows when someone's heart is open to him, and he never treats that kind of trust lightly.
Around a quarter to three, the atmosphere around them feels different and safe, and Subaru asks, quietly, "What's wrong?"
Yasu shakes his head. His eyes are already wet.
Subaru pats Yasu's face gently. "It's okay," he says. "Forget it."
Yasu nods, looking grateful, and stares down at their knees pressed together until his tears have mostly dried. He doesn't move–not a muscle–when Subaru covers his hand with his own.
Somehow this is easier than talking, especially when Subaru also stares at their knees.
A few seconds go by, and then Yasu says, "Ryo-chan's...not happy with me right now."
Subaru thinks about that, then squeezes Yasu's hand. It's probably better if he doesn't say anything.
"I told him something I shouldn't have and now he's. He's. I tried explaining to him, but that only made him more...upset."
The quieter Yasu's voice gets, the tighter Subaru's grip on Yasu's hand gets.
"I said I was sorry. I still am. I'm so sorry."
Subaru yanks Yasu close. He wraps both arms around Yasu’s neck and tells Yasu that he’s fine where he is, that he can lean more of his weight on Subaru if he wants–Subaru’s not a total old guy yet. Yasu nods once, and his body suddenly does feel heavier than before, so Subaru rubs his hair and lets Yasu’s half-finished sentences wash over him.
When Yasu stops talking, Subaru murmurs, “It’s not your fault.”
Yasu grimaces against Subaru’s neck and fists the back of Subaru’s shirt.
“It’s not,” Subaru says, gripping Yasu’s hair. “It’s not yours any more than it’s mine.”
“You’re—?”
Subaru says, “Shut up,” and Yasu goes quiet.
After half a minute, Yasu whispers, “I’m sorry,” again and tries to pull away.
Subaru grabs him tighter and mutters, “Half, I guess. Whatever. Something less than a hundred percent.”
Yasu squeezes his arms around Subaru’s waist.
Eventually, they shift from sitting to lying down, then from over the covers to under them, but they don’t talk again. Subaru just holds Yasu as tight as he can until Yasu falls asleep and then, awake and alone, Subaru pretends he can’t decipher the feel of Ryo’s name mouthed on his neck.
Fandom: JE - Kanjani∞
Pairing/characters: Subaru+Yasu (Ryo+Yasu)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 750~
Disclaimer: Total fiction.
Summary: Subaru wasn't the first to find out.
Note: Please consider this sequence of events a reason not to tell your friend to assign you batsu fic if you don't complete your writing on schedule.
Subaru circles his hotel room three or four times, gearing up for a Conversation, then heads down the hall to knock on Yasu's door. Something's been off with Yasu all day, and Subaru's finally given up hope that Yasu will fix the problem himself.
It's two in the morning, but that shouldn't make much of a difference–he knocks pretty loud.
Yasu opens the door. "Oh," he says, startled. "Are you–I, um. Hello?" He's still in the soft orange pajama pants and sleeveless gray and lavender patchwork shirt he put on after rehearsal earlier.
Subaru is struck by how much he really wants to turn around and go back to his room. It's Yasu's face, mostly–he looks so drawn and sad–and besides that, Subaru is fucking terrible at things like this. He once tried to talk Tsubasa down from a mild case of stage fright and ended up giving him a panic attack instead. So, really, he should just go back to–
Well.
He's here now, and it'd be harder to walk away from Yasu looking like this than it will be to endure whatever awkwardness is waiting for him inside Yasu's hotel room, so Subaru ducks his head and invites himself in.
For the first time ever they've all got their own hotel rooms, but the thrill of freedom has kind of been dimmed by the size of the rooms. Yasu's bed is about three strides away from the door, and the curtained window is about a step and a half farther than that. When they sit on the bed, there's hardly enough space for them to face each other. To do it, they have to sit kind of jammed together with their shinbones angled hot and damp against each other.
Yasu's stare is too direct and far too lonely, so Subaru rambles feverishly for twenty minutes and Yasu listens to him, patient as ever, with a solemn expression that doesn't even remotely match the tone of the inane things Subaru's telling him. But that's what's always set Yasu apart from everyone else in Subaru's world–he knows when someone's heart is open to him, and he never treats that kind of trust lightly.
Around a quarter to three, the atmosphere around them feels different and safe, and Subaru asks, quietly, "What's wrong?"
Yasu shakes his head. His eyes are already wet.
Subaru pats Yasu's face gently. "It's okay," he says. "Forget it."
Yasu nods, looking grateful, and stares down at their knees pressed together until his tears have mostly dried. He doesn't move–not a muscle–when Subaru covers his hand with his own.
Somehow this is easier than talking, especially when Subaru also stares at their knees.
A few seconds go by, and then Yasu says, "Ryo-chan's...not happy with me right now."
Subaru thinks about that, then squeezes Yasu's hand. It's probably better if he doesn't say anything.
"I told him something I shouldn't have and now he's. He's. I tried explaining to him, but that only made him more...upset."
The quieter Yasu's voice gets, the tighter Subaru's grip on Yasu's hand gets.
"I said I was sorry. I still am. I'm so sorry."
Subaru yanks Yasu close. He wraps both arms around Yasu’s neck and tells Yasu that he’s fine where he is, that he can lean more of his weight on Subaru if he wants–Subaru’s not a total old guy yet. Yasu nods once, and his body suddenly does feel heavier than before, so Subaru rubs his hair and lets Yasu’s half-finished sentences wash over him.
When Yasu stops talking, Subaru murmurs, “It’s not your fault.”
Yasu grimaces against Subaru’s neck and fists the back of Subaru’s shirt.
“It’s not,” Subaru says, gripping Yasu’s hair. “It’s not yours any more than it’s mine.”
“You’re—?”
Subaru says, “Shut up,” and Yasu goes quiet.
After half a minute, Yasu whispers, “I’m sorry,” again and tries to pull away.
Subaru grabs him tighter and mutters, “Half, I guess. Whatever. Something less than a hundred percent.”
Yasu squeezes his arms around Subaru’s waist.
Eventually, they shift from sitting to lying down, then from over the covers to under them, but they don’t talk again. Subaru just holds Yasu as tight as he can until Yasu falls asleep and then, awake and alone, Subaru pretends he can’t decipher the feel of Ryo’s name mouthed on his neck.