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Fic: Beyond Acceptable (Ryo/Tegoshi)
Title: Beyond Acceptable
Fandom: JE - NEWS
Pairing/characters: Ryo/Tegoshi
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,300~
Disclaimer: Total fiction.
Summary: When it was announced that NEWS would return to a more active schedule and gain a regular show on top of it, the one thing Ryo had been looking forward to more than the opportunity to sprawl on Yamapi at any given moment was being around Tegoshi’s energy and confidence and, well, admiration.
Note: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
samenashi for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
help_japan! Many, many months after I planned to write and post it, which is terrible, and I suck. I'm so sorry for the wait, Sam! ♥ But I hope you enjoy it! :D
The night before they’re scheduled to film the first episode of their first show, NEWS is asked to go out for dinner with the show’s staff. Tegoshi immediately puts in a request for curry, and since no one’s violently opposed to the idea, they shuffle off to a curry restaurant in Shinjuku. They give the servers a mild shock when their group manages to take up most of the three largest booths.
Tegoshi is wedged between Ryo and Takuya, one of the camera guys, and he accidentally elbows both of them while he’s tearing open the package of his wet napkin.
“Ow,” Ryo says, halfway into a yawn.
“Sorry, Ryo-chan.” Tegoshi tries to use the space between them more sparingly, but with five people stuffed into their side of the booth, it’s not looking good for anyone’s ribs.
“Here,” Ryo says, slinging an arm around Tegoshi’s neck. “Move closer to me.” Tegoshi slides over a few centimeters until there’s enough space between him and Takuya that their legs aren’t pressed together anymore.
“Thanks, Ryo-chan,” Tegoshi says. “But won’t you need your right hand to eat?”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Ryo says. “I can use my left, too.”
Takuya, having noticed the lack of idol squashed against him, gives Tegoshi a look so wounded Tegoshi can’t help but grin at him and snuggle closer to Ryo.
With a crestfallen expression, Takuya turns to Miss Fuji and whines, “The idol rejected me, Madame Producer!”
“He didn’t reject you,” Ryo tells Takuya over Tegoshi’s head. “He just chose me.”
Tegoshi nods earnestly.
Takuya wails about broken hearts and the healing powers of poetry until Miss Fuji slaps him upside the head and tells him to suck it up. “There are other idols,” she says. “Find one Nishikido hasn’t already claimed.”
“A challenge,” Yamapi says, nodding sagely.
“He hasn’t claimed Shige,” Koyama says, grinning.
Shige groans, “Shut up,” and shoves Koyama into Massu’s shoulder.
“He hasn’t claimed Kanjani, either,” Tegoshi says.
“They claimed him,” Yamapi smirks.
“Kinky,” Eri says.
Ryo makes a small sound like an objection that goes ignored by everyone else.
Around the third round of drinks, Tegoshi weaves his arms around Ryo’s waist and drops his head on Ryo’s shoulder. It’s a sign of how frequently this has happened that Ryo acknowledges the move with nothing more than a vague grin down at the head rubbing his shoulder.
“Are you nuzzling him?” Miss Fuji laughs.
“No,” Tegoshi says, sing-song. “My nose itches. His shirt’s a good scratcher.”
Ryo jerks his shoulder up in token protest, but he’s distracted by the waitress replacing his empty glass with a full one. “Thank you,” he says, beaming, and the waitress smiles and blushes and bows and vanishes in about two seconds flat.
Yamapi and Koyama make the appropriate crowing sounds and Massu chimes in despite looking like he has no idea what’s going on. He’s been busy dragging fried shrimp up Shige’s arm while Shige has his head turned to talk to Katsuya, the camera guy’s assistant.
Tegoshi tries “Shh!” because he’s getting drowsy but no one hears him except Ryo and Takuya, who pats him on the head. Tegoshi swats at the hand and squeezes closer to Ryo. “Ryotan,” he says, “I’m tired. Take me home.”
Ryo’s got half a glass left, so he says, “Ten minutes and we’ll go, ‘kay?”
Tegoshi mumbles assent and closes his eyes with a put-upon sigh.
Ryo keeps an eye on his watch because tired and drunk or not, Tegoshi—like many in their line of work—has developed an uncanny sense of time. Nine minutes later, Ryo swallows the last of his drink and jostles Tegoshi’s shoulder. “C’mon. Get your stuff.”
Tegoshi sits up immediately, sways only slightly, and says, “I’m ready,” with a far clearer voice than Ryo was expecting from someone nearly drooling into his shirt.
Ryo says to Miss Fuji, “Excuse me,” and she taps Ryosuke’s arm and the two of them stand and shuffle out of the booth to make way for Ryo and Tegoshi. The commotion grabs everyone else’s attention, and Yamapi makes a betrayed squawk.
“Where are you going?” he demands, reaching for his wallet, presumably to join them.
Ryo says, “Just home.”
“Oh.” Yamapi makes a face. “Boring.” He loops an arm around Shige’s neck and drags Shige hard into his side. “I’ll spend my night with Shige, then.”
Shige’s owl-eyed terror and tipsy stammering have Ryo and Tegoshi laughing from the table to the cashier. Ryo pays for Tegoshi and the two of them call out their goodbyes to the group.
Two black cars are waiting outside the restaurant, one behind the other, and the drivers are clustered by the hood of the first car smoking together. When the door to the restaurant opens, the younger of the two drivers stubs out his cigarette into a wet napkin and smiles at them.
“Heading home?” he asks.
Tegoshi says, “Yes, please.” As he slides into the car, he hits his head on the doorframe and hisses. He drops into his seat and rubs furiously at his head and doesn’t stop even when Ryo sits next to him and laughs, “Are you okay?”
The driver fastens his seatbelt and looks into the rearview mirror. “Are you all right, Tegoshi-kun?”
“Yes,” Tegoshi says, grimacing. “I think I’m worse off than I thought.”
Ryo laughs again, quieter, and pulls Tegoshi’s head back on his shoulder. “You’re okay.”
“Comfy,” Tegoshi murmurs. “Thanks.” His hand finds Ryo’s sleeve and twists the fabric around the knuckles.
The drive takes longer than usual, every light but one turning red just as their car turns the corner, and the urge to pee that Ryo’s been suppressing for the last hour finally catches up to him as the driver stops in front of Tegoshi’s building.
“Can I come up for a minute?” Ryo asks.
Tegoshi says, “Sure,” through a yawn.
Ryo apologizes to the driver, who smiles it off and says, “It’s fine, it’s fine, go ahead.”
The doorman greets them and they nod back, Tegoshi pushing out a sleepy, “H’lo,” as he fishes out his keys from an interior pocket of his jacket.
It’s not until they’re at Tegoshi’s door that it occurs to Tegoshi to ask, “What do you need, Ryo-chan?”
“Uh, your bathroom,” Ryo says, flushing.
“Oh!” Tegoshi laughs and pushes the door open. “Go ahead.”
Ryo toes off his shoes, mumbles, “Sorry for the hassle,” and sprints for the bathroom. He hasn’t seen Tegoshi’s new apartment before, so he glances around the bathroom with mild interest as he relieves himself of about four beers and two bottled teas. It’s fairly well-organized, but the shelves and ledges haven’t been cleaned in a while and the sink is freckled with toothpaste. There’s no soap, either, so Ryo reaches into Tegoshi’s shower hoping to find some there and freezes.
Tegoshi was not one of the members Ryo had expected would own a sex toy. Or, uh, three. In the shower. He already knows Yamapi’s got some filthy toys that he’s received from both Ryo and Jin over the years and he keeps them all and has probably used some on his girlfriends, but Tegoshi?
Ryo grins and leaves the bathroom to find Tegoshi in his kitchen sipping bottled water.
Tegoshi glances at Ryo’s hands and wrinkles his nose. “Ryo-chan, did you wash your—”
“You have two dildos in your shower,” Ryo says. “And beads.”
He figures Tegoshi’s drunk enough to find it mildly embarrassing at best, but Tegoshi surprises him by making his face even more disgusted. “Ryo-chan, you didn’t touch them, did you?” He gives Ryo’s clearly filthy hands a scornful look.
“No, I didn’t,” Ryo says, and when did this session of teasing get away from him?
“They’re not mine,” Tegoshi continues. “They—”
Ryo laughs. “Seriously?”
“They belong to my boyfriend,” Tegoshi says, lifting his chin. He’s drunk enough that it doesn’t sound haughty so much as defensive. And anxious.
Ryo says, “You…” and stops, because he had a conversation like this with Yasu years ago that went sideways and he’s not going to fuck it up with Tegoshi, too. He remembers what he said when he tried to apologize to Yasu back then and says, slowly, “It’s fine.”
Tegoshi obviously senses his caution and says, “Thank you,” stiffly.
“No, it’s—” How can he say it? “It’s fine because I’m, you know, too”? Even in his head he can’t make it sound less awkward.
Then Tegoshi proves how remarkably well he can read people, and Ryo actually watches him make the connection and get it.
“The car, um,” Ryo says, shifting. “I should, uh. So, ah.”
“Right,” Tegoshi says. “Goodnight, Ryo-chan.” He smiles with one side of his mouth, looking young and relieved.
In the car, Ryo puts his head back and dozes. Years ago, before Kanjani debuted, he overheard Subaru arguing with Yoko about some porn they’d watched together, Yoko laughing, “You were totally more focused on the guy!” and Subaru yelling back, “He was more into it!” and back and forth like that for five minutes. Then Hina interrupted, chuckling, “Did you wish you were the girl, Subaru?” and Subaru said, “Yes,” with the kind of solemnity he used sometimes when he was joking. But he didn’t laugh and he stared at Yoko and Hina who did and ever since then, they’ve all kind of accepted that Subaru’s just…Something. And that’s generally how things go all over the agency, from what Ryo can tell—gay or straight or whatever doesn’t matter when you’re single. It’s the sex of the person you end up with that matters.
So no one really uses terms like “boyfriend” when it’s a guy. “Boyfriend” implies commitment and intent. A boyfriend isn’t the stranger you make out with when you’re drunk and later dismiss because, “That’s sick, I thought he was a girl!” A boyfriend isn’t the older guy you’ve idolized since you were fifteen and now fondle onstage to the delighted screams of fans. A boyfriend is someone you want more than once and for whom you maybe, probably have feelings.
In those terms, Ryo doesn’t know anyone in the agency who’s had a boyfriend. Not even Yasu’s taken that step, as far as Ryo knows.
It’s when the driver lets him out in front of his building that Ryo takes out his phone to, first, answer Yamapi’s phone mail containing a photo of Shige pressed up against the bar by a very drunk, very affectionate Miss Fuji, and then to send Tegoshi an email.
He doesn’t directly say what he wants to since he’s putting this in writing, but in the vaguest terms possible he tells Tegoshi that he’s proud of him.
He wants a photo of the boyfriend, too, just for some friendly comparison, but he decides not to ask.
He remembers to switch his phone on silent for the first time in weeks and falls asleep hoping he’ll have a response by morning.
I lied.
It’s not much to go on, and Ryo immediately thinks, You’re not? and then gets angry because if Tegoshi lied, then he just came out to Tegoshi for no reason and—
He writes back, What do you mean? before he follows that train of thought too far.
He eats breakfast and showers and gets dressed and boards the van to the studio and falls asleep with his phone in his hand but there’s no reply.
Then, as he walks into the tiny elevator of the studio by himself, there’s a reply.
I’m single.
The doors open to one very, very unhappy-looking Shige and one smirking Yamapi. They’re crouched outside a locked conference room, Yamapi biting his thumb and Shige holding a cold bottle of tea to his forehead.
“I think you have to drink it,” Ryo tells him.
“Shut the hell up,” Shige says, rough enough that Ryo wonders if he’s still drunk.
Yamapi’s expression pretty much answers that.
Between the two of them, Ryo and Yamapi manage to make Shige drink about half the bottle and send him to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water until he feels less like a corpse. Koyama arrives next and makes worried noises about Shige that Ryo answers by pointing him to the bathroom. When another ten minutes pass with no one arriving to unlock the conference room, Yamapi calls his manager to find out if there’s been an unscheduled change in location, and while he’s on the phone, Massu shows up. He sits across the hall from Ryo and sips from a thermos of soup and asks Ryo if Tegoshi was okay getting home last night.
Tegoshi doesn’t show.
In ones and twos the staff arrive, reporting accidents on both the Yamanote Line and the highway. They discuss the day’s schedule and, in between bullet points, people leave messages for Tegoshi in increasing tones of concern and panic. When someone’s assistant runs out of the room to send someone to Tegoshi’s apartment, Ryo mentions Tegoshi’s text message. He’s asked nine times over the next thirty minutes what it says, but he repeats, “Just ‘good morning.’”
Tegoshi walks in an hour late, expression bland, and the room fills with noise.
Six months of Not Talking About It is Ryo’s limit. With Tegoshi, anyway. With someone like Subaru, Not Talking About It is a lifelong commitment, and an easy one at that. But Ryo’s dynamic with Tegoshi is different.
When it was announced that NEWS would return to a more active schedule and gain a regular show on top of it, the one thing Ryo had been looking forward to more than the opportunity to sprawl on Yamapi at any given moment was being around Tegoshi’s energy and confidence and, well, admiration. Instead, after a seven-hour day of filming or a two-hour photo shoot in which Tegoshi hangs off of any one of the others except Ryo, Ryo feels like he hasn’t even seen Tegoshi.
And six months is beyond acceptable for that kind of bullshit.
Ryo’s refused to send emails or phone mails. He hasn’t called Tegoshi or tried to talk to him privately. He’s ignored Tegoshi all but completely until now because Tegoshi’s not the frightened kid he used to be—he’ll shut Ryo down in a heartbeat, and Ryo could survive that, but why volunteer for that sort of treatment?
So he sends Shige to talk to Tegoshi for him.
They’re on location in the mountains for NEWS’s next concert photobook, and Tegoshi has said three words to Ryo today:
“Hello,” and “Ah, sorry,” when he took Ryo’s bento by mistake. … So maybe “ah” isn’t a word. Two words.
Little brat.
“Ryo, come on,” Shige says with a face way more exasperated than it has any right to be at its age and level of attractiveness parallel to Ryo’s. “Why don’t you talk to him?”
“Because you can,” Ryo says.
Shige has yet to come up with a way to fight Ryo’s non-logic, so he sighs and leaves, presumably to talk to Tegoshi. Shige was a lot more fun when Ryo intimidated him. This older Shige is a bitch and clearly spends far too much time actually believing the Juniors who idolize his brain.
The two photographers split NEWS up into groups of three and lead them in opposite directions. Ryo, Yamapi, and Koyama walk with a collection of staff and camera crew to a stream for Yamapi’s half-naked shots, then to a copse of trees for Koyama’s half-naked shots, and finally to a rock on a cliff for Ryo’s half-naked-and-sweating shots. The sweat isn’t planned, but the photographer likes it and asks Ryo to run up the nearby incline to get a bit more on him. For most of the shoot, Yamapi whines about Ryo looking sexier than him and Ryo throws small rocks at Yamapi between rolls of film.
When Ryo has his clothes back on and their group has joined up with the rest of NEWS, Shige says, “He said he’d mail you,” and looks vaguely apologetic when Ryo groans, “What the fuck,” with a hint of whine.
Tegoshi doesn’t look at him for the rest of the day. In all of the group shots, he somehow manages to avoid being next to Ryo, even when the photographer tells him, “Stand next to Nishikido, please.”
On the van ride back to Tokyo, Tegoshi sits next to Koyama.
I’m sorry.
That’s it. That’s all there is.
And so that’s it.
Ryo returns to Tegoshi’s apartment late at night on Tegoshi’s day off (Ryo has connections for such information, but Yamapi’s are better). Ryo’s work day has lasted twelve hours and he has to wake up in five to start another one, so he’s in no mood to deal with brush-offs or anything resembling bullshit.
Tegoshi’s eyes go wide for half a second, and then he relaxes and asks, “Do you want to come in?”
He hands Ryo a beer and doesn’t turn on the TV or play with his phone or any of the things Tegoshi usually does when things are good between them. He just stares at the floor and gives off an air of deep discomfort.
Ryo finishes his beer without saying a word because, fuck. Six months of ignoring him is not okay, and Tegoshi can get some of that back just to see what it feels like.
“Ryo-chan….”
“Hm?”
Tegoshi hasn’t looked up from the floor, just shifted a little bit like he had to move to work up the nerve to speak. “Listen…um. I think maybe we shouldn’t talk about—”
“How do you know I want to talk about that?” Ryo interrupts. “I don’t.”
Tegoshi says, “Oh,” but he doesn’t sound convinced.
“Tegonyan,” Ryo says.
Tegoshi’s head snaps up and then back down, forcefully.
Ryo puts his empty beer can on the table and throws a pillow at Tegoshi’s head. “Look at me.”
Tegoshi ducks the pillow but meets Ryo’s eyes anyway.
Now that he has Tegoshi’s attention, all Ryo can think of to say is, “What the hell was wrong with you?”
Which is, surprisingly, the right thing to say.
Tegoshi smiles, an automatic twitch that he doesn’t seem to try to suppress.
“You ignored me for six months,” Ryo continues. A dam’s burst. He’s pissed. Tegoshi’s going to hear all of it.
“No, I didn’t,” Tegoshi says, looking alarmed. “No, Ryo-chan, I didn’t!”
Ryo can’t even start on how incorrect that is.
“I didn’t know what to say,” Tegoshi explains. One of his fingers pops and Ryo notices one of Tegoshi’s hands closed in a fist on his thigh. “I didn’t do it to be cruel.”
“But you did ignore me,” Ryo says.
“I.” Tegoshi looks irritated, like it pains him to admit. “Yes. Fine. I did.” He doesn’t apologize.
Ryo sighs. “Didn’t you believe me? I told you I don’t care. I told you…” Well, no he didn’t. He implied. And he could have sworn Tegoshi made the connection and figured out where Ryo was coming from but. “You get it, right? About me?”
Tegoshi stares at him for so long Ryo says, “Never mind. I’m going home.”
He stands up and expects Tegoshi to stop him immediately. He doesn’t.
It's not until Ryo gets to the elevator that Tegoshi stops him.
“Ryo-chan, wait!”
He wasn’t really going to leave. He’d had all his weight on his left foot, prepared to back out of the elevator and go back to shake sense into Tegoshi’s obstinate head.
He returns to Tegoshi’s entryway but no farther, and he keeps his shoes on.
Tegoshi’s still in his bare feet. “Can you close the door, please?” he asks quietly.
Ryo pulls on the handle and it closes without a sound.
Tegoshi hugs him, hard.
Ryo exhales on a startled sound and doesn’t move until Tegoshi’s breath stutters out against his ear. Then, staring at the closed door of the bathroom, Ryo closes his arms around Tegoshi’s waist without knowing what he means.
Fandom: JE - NEWS
Pairing/characters: Ryo/Tegoshi
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 3,300~
Disclaimer: Total fiction.
Summary: When it was announced that NEWS would return to a more active schedule and gain a regular show on top of it, the one thing Ryo had been looking forward to more than the opportunity to sprawl on Yamapi at any given moment was being around Tegoshi’s energy and confidence and, well, admiration.
Note: Written for
samenashi for help_japan! Many, many months after I planned to write and post it, which is terrible, and I suck. I'm so sorry for the wait, Sam! ♥ But I hope you enjoy it! :DThe night before they’re scheduled to film the first episode of their first show, NEWS is asked to go out for dinner with the show’s staff. Tegoshi immediately puts in a request for curry, and since no one’s violently opposed to the idea, they shuffle off to a curry restaurant in Shinjuku. They give the servers a mild shock when their group manages to take up most of the three largest booths.
Tegoshi is wedged between Ryo and Takuya, one of the camera guys, and he accidentally elbows both of them while he’s tearing open the package of his wet napkin.
“Ow,” Ryo says, halfway into a yawn.
“Sorry, Ryo-chan.” Tegoshi tries to use the space between them more sparingly, but with five people stuffed into their side of the booth, it’s not looking good for anyone’s ribs.
“Here,” Ryo says, slinging an arm around Tegoshi’s neck. “Move closer to me.” Tegoshi slides over a few centimeters until there’s enough space between him and Takuya that their legs aren’t pressed together anymore.
“Thanks, Ryo-chan,” Tegoshi says. “But won’t you need your right hand to eat?”
“Nah, it’s fine,” Ryo says. “I can use my left, too.”
Takuya, having noticed the lack of idol squashed against him, gives Tegoshi a look so wounded Tegoshi can’t help but grin at him and snuggle closer to Ryo.
With a crestfallen expression, Takuya turns to Miss Fuji and whines, “The idol rejected me, Madame Producer!”
“He didn’t reject you,” Ryo tells Takuya over Tegoshi’s head. “He just chose me.”
Tegoshi nods earnestly.
Takuya wails about broken hearts and the healing powers of poetry until Miss Fuji slaps him upside the head and tells him to suck it up. “There are other idols,” she says. “Find one Nishikido hasn’t already claimed.”
“A challenge,” Yamapi says, nodding sagely.
“He hasn’t claimed Shige,” Koyama says, grinning.
Shige groans, “Shut up,” and shoves Koyama into Massu’s shoulder.
“He hasn’t claimed Kanjani, either,” Tegoshi says.
“They claimed him,” Yamapi smirks.
“Kinky,” Eri says.
Ryo makes a small sound like an objection that goes ignored by everyone else.
Around the third round of drinks, Tegoshi weaves his arms around Ryo’s waist and drops his head on Ryo’s shoulder. It’s a sign of how frequently this has happened that Ryo acknowledges the move with nothing more than a vague grin down at the head rubbing his shoulder.
“Are you nuzzling him?” Miss Fuji laughs.
“No,” Tegoshi says, sing-song. “My nose itches. His shirt’s a good scratcher.”
Ryo jerks his shoulder up in token protest, but he’s distracted by the waitress replacing his empty glass with a full one. “Thank you,” he says, beaming, and the waitress smiles and blushes and bows and vanishes in about two seconds flat.
Yamapi and Koyama make the appropriate crowing sounds and Massu chimes in despite looking like he has no idea what’s going on. He’s been busy dragging fried shrimp up Shige’s arm while Shige has his head turned to talk to Katsuya, the camera guy’s assistant.
Tegoshi tries “Shh!” because he’s getting drowsy but no one hears him except Ryo and Takuya, who pats him on the head. Tegoshi swats at the hand and squeezes closer to Ryo. “Ryotan,” he says, “I’m tired. Take me home.”
Ryo’s got half a glass left, so he says, “Ten minutes and we’ll go, ‘kay?”
Tegoshi mumbles assent and closes his eyes with a put-upon sigh.
Ryo keeps an eye on his watch because tired and drunk or not, Tegoshi—like many in their line of work—has developed an uncanny sense of time. Nine minutes later, Ryo swallows the last of his drink and jostles Tegoshi’s shoulder. “C’mon. Get your stuff.”
Tegoshi sits up immediately, sways only slightly, and says, “I’m ready,” with a far clearer voice than Ryo was expecting from someone nearly drooling into his shirt.
Ryo says to Miss Fuji, “Excuse me,” and she taps Ryosuke’s arm and the two of them stand and shuffle out of the booth to make way for Ryo and Tegoshi. The commotion grabs everyone else’s attention, and Yamapi makes a betrayed squawk.
“Where are you going?” he demands, reaching for his wallet, presumably to join them.
Ryo says, “Just home.”
“Oh.” Yamapi makes a face. “Boring.” He loops an arm around Shige’s neck and drags Shige hard into his side. “I’ll spend my night with Shige, then.”
Shige’s owl-eyed terror and tipsy stammering have Ryo and Tegoshi laughing from the table to the cashier. Ryo pays for Tegoshi and the two of them call out their goodbyes to the group.
Two black cars are waiting outside the restaurant, one behind the other, and the drivers are clustered by the hood of the first car smoking together. When the door to the restaurant opens, the younger of the two drivers stubs out his cigarette into a wet napkin and smiles at them.
“Heading home?” he asks.
Tegoshi says, “Yes, please.” As he slides into the car, he hits his head on the doorframe and hisses. He drops into his seat and rubs furiously at his head and doesn’t stop even when Ryo sits next to him and laughs, “Are you okay?”
The driver fastens his seatbelt and looks into the rearview mirror. “Are you all right, Tegoshi-kun?”
“Yes,” Tegoshi says, grimacing. “I think I’m worse off than I thought.”
Ryo laughs again, quieter, and pulls Tegoshi’s head back on his shoulder. “You’re okay.”
“Comfy,” Tegoshi murmurs. “Thanks.” His hand finds Ryo’s sleeve and twists the fabric around the knuckles.
The drive takes longer than usual, every light but one turning red just as their car turns the corner, and the urge to pee that Ryo’s been suppressing for the last hour finally catches up to him as the driver stops in front of Tegoshi’s building.
“Can I come up for a minute?” Ryo asks.
Tegoshi says, “Sure,” through a yawn.
Ryo apologizes to the driver, who smiles it off and says, “It’s fine, it’s fine, go ahead.”
The doorman greets them and they nod back, Tegoshi pushing out a sleepy, “H’lo,” as he fishes out his keys from an interior pocket of his jacket.
It’s not until they’re at Tegoshi’s door that it occurs to Tegoshi to ask, “What do you need, Ryo-chan?”
“Uh, your bathroom,” Ryo says, flushing.
“Oh!” Tegoshi laughs and pushes the door open. “Go ahead.”
Ryo toes off his shoes, mumbles, “Sorry for the hassle,” and sprints for the bathroom. He hasn’t seen Tegoshi’s new apartment before, so he glances around the bathroom with mild interest as he relieves himself of about four beers and two bottled teas. It’s fairly well-organized, but the shelves and ledges haven’t been cleaned in a while and the sink is freckled with toothpaste. There’s no soap, either, so Ryo reaches into Tegoshi’s shower hoping to find some there and freezes.
Tegoshi was not one of the members Ryo had expected would own a sex toy. Or, uh, three. In the shower. He already knows Yamapi’s got some filthy toys that he’s received from both Ryo and Jin over the years and he keeps them all and has probably used some on his girlfriends, but Tegoshi?
Ryo grins and leaves the bathroom to find Tegoshi in his kitchen sipping bottled water.
Tegoshi glances at Ryo’s hands and wrinkles his nose. “Ryo-chan, did you wash your—”
“You have two dildos in your shower,” Ryo says. “And beads.”
He figures Tegoshi’s drunk enough to find it mildly embarrassing at best, but Tegoshi surprises him by making his face even more disgusted. “Ryo-chan, you didn’t touch them, did you?” He gives Ryo’s clearly filthy hands a scornful look.
“No, I didn’t,” Ryo says, and when did this session of teasing get away from him?
“They’re not mine,” Tegoshi continues. “They—”
Ryo laughs. “Seriously?”
“They belong to my boyfriend,” Tegoshi says, lifting his chin. He’s drunk enough that it doesn’t sound haughty so much as defensive. And anxious.
Ryo says, “You…” and stops, because he had a conversation like this with Yasu years ago that went sideways and he’s not going to fuck it up with Tegoshi, too. He remembers what he said when he tried to apologize to Yasu back then and says, slowly, “It’s fine.”
Tegoshi obviously senses his caution and says, “Thank you,” stiffly.
“No, it’s—” How can he say it? “It’s fine because I’m, you know, too”? Even in his head he can’t make it sound less awkward.
Then Tegoshi proves how remarkably well he can read people, and Ryo actually watches him make the connection and get it.
“The car, um,” Ryo says, shifting. “I should, uh. So, ah.”
“Right,” Tegoshi says. “Goodnight, Ryo-chan.” He smiles with one side of his mouth, looking young and relieved.
In the car, Ryo puts his head back and dozes. Years ago, before Kanjani debuted, he overheard Subaru arguing with Yoko about some porn they’d watched together, Yoko laughing, “You were totally more focused on the guy!” and Subaru yelling back, “He was more into it!” and back and forth like that for five minutes. Then Hina interrupted, chuckling, “Did you wish you were the girl, Subaru?” and Subaru said, “Yes,” with the kind of solemnity he used sometimes when he was joking. But he didn’t laugh and he stared at Yoko and Hina who did and ever since then, they’ve all kind of accepted that Subaru’s just…Something. And that’s generally how things go all over the agency, from what Ryo can tell—gay or straight or whatever doesn’t matter when you’re single. It’s the sex of the person you end up with that matters.
So no one really uses terms like “boyfriend” when it’s a guy. “Boyfriend” implies commitment and intent. A boyfriend isn’t the stranger you make out with when you’re drunk and later dismiss because, “That’s sick, I thought he was a girl!” A boyfriend isn’t the older guy you’ve idolized since you were fifteen and now fondle onstage to the delighted screams of fans. A boyfriend is someone you want more than once and for whom you maybe, probably have feelings.
In those terms, Ryo doesn’t know anyone in the agency who’s had a boyfriend. Not even Yasu’s taken that step, as far as Ryo knows.
It’s when the driver lets him out in front of his building that Ryo takes out his phone to, first, answer Yamapi’s phone mail containing a photo of Shige pressed up against the bar by a very drunk, very affectionate Miss Fuji, and then to send Tegoshi an email.
He doesn’t directly say what he wants to since he’s putting this in writing, but in the vaguest terms possible he tells Tegoshi that he’s proud of him.
He wants a photo of the boyfriend, too, just for some friendly comparison, but he decides not to ask.
He remembers to switch his phone on silent for the first time in weeks and falls asleep hoping he’ll have a response by morning.
I lied.
It’s not much to go on, and Ryo immediately thinks, You’re not? and then gets angry because if Tegoshi lied, then he just came out to Tegoshi for no reason and—
He writes back, What do you mean? before he follows that train of thought too far.
He eats breakfast and showers and gets dressed and boards the van to the studio and falls asleep with his phone in his hand but there’s no reply.
Then, as he walks into the tiny elevator of the studio by himself, there’s a reply.
I’m single.
The doors open to one very, very unhappy-looking Shige and one smirking Yamapi. They’re crouched outside a locked conference room, Yamapi biting his thumb and Shige holding a cold bottle of tea to his forehead.
“I think you have to drink it,” Ryo tells him.
“Shut the hell up,” Shige says, rough enough that Ryo wonders if he’s still drunk.
Yamapi’s expression pretty much answers that.
Between the two of them, Ryo and Yamapi manage to make Shige drink about half the bottle and send him to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water until he feels less like a corpse. Koyama arrives next and makes worried noises about Shige that Ryo answers by pointing him to the bathroom. When another ten minutes pass with no one arriving to unlock the conference room, Yamapi calls his manager to find out if there’s been an unscheduled change in location, and while he’s on the phone, Massu shows up. He sits across the hall from Ryo and sips from a thermos of soup and asks Ryo if Tegoshi was okay getting home last night.
Tegoshi doesn’t show.
In ones and twos the staff arrive, reporting accidents on both the Yamanote Line and the highway. They discuss the day’s schedule and, in between bullet points, people leave messages for Tegoshi in increasing tones of concern and panic. When someone’s assistant runs out of the room to send someone to Tegoshi’s apartment, Ryo mentions Tegoshi’s text message. He’s asked nine times over the next thirty minutes what it says, but he repeats, “Just ‘good morning.’”
Tegoshi walks in an hour late, expression bland, and the room fills with noise.
Six months of Not Talking About It is Ryo’s limit. With Tegoshi, anyway. With someone like Subaru, Not Talking About It is a lifelong commitment, and an easy one at that. But Ryo’s dynamic with Tegoshi is different.
When it was announced that NEWS would return to a more active schedule and gain a regular show on top of it, the one thing Ryo had been looking forward to more than the opportunity to sprawl on Yamapi at any given moment was being around Tegoshi’s energy and confidence and, well, admiration. Instead, after a seven-hour day of filming or a two-hour photo shoot in which Tegoshi hangs off of any one of the others except Ryo, Ryo feels like he hasn’t even seen Tegoshi.
And six months is beyond acceptable for that kind of bullshit.
Ryo’s refused to send emails or phone mails. He hasn’t called Tegoshi or tried to talk to him privately. He’s ignored Tegoshi all but completely until now because Tegoshi’s not the frightened kid he used to be—he’ll shut Ryo down in a heartbeat, and Ryo could survive that, but why volunteer for that sort of treatment?
So he sends Shige to talk to Tegoshi for him.
They’re on location in the mountains for NEWS’s next concert photobook, and Tegoshi has said three words to Ryo today:
“Hello,” and “Ah, sorry,” when he took Ryo’s bento by mistake. … So maybe “ah” isn’t a word. Two words.
Little brat.
“Ryo, come on,” Shige says with a face way more exasperated than it has any right to be at its age and level of attractiveness parallel to Ryo’s. “Why don’t you talk to him?”
“Because you can,” Ryo says.
Shige has yet to come up with a way to fight Ryo’s non-logic, so he sighs and leaves, presumably to talk to Tegoshi. Shige was a lot more fun when Ryo intimidated him. This older Shige is a bitch and clearly spends far too much time actually believing the Juniors who idolize his brain.
The two photographers split NEWS up into groups of three and lead them in opposite directions. Ryo, Yamapi, and Koyama walk with a collection of staff and camera crew to a stream for Yamapi’s half-naked shots, then to a copse of trees for Koyama’s half-naked shots, and finally to a rock on a cliff for Ryo’s half-naked-and-sweating shots. The sweat isn’t planned, but the photographer likes it and asks Ryo to run up the nearby incline to get a bit more on him. For most of the shoot, Yamapi whines about Ryo looking sexier than him and Ryo throws small rocks at Yamapi between rolls of film.
When Ryo has his clothes back on and their group has joined up with the rest of NEWS, Shige says, “He said he’d mail you,” and looks vaguely apologetic when Ryo groans, “What the fuck,” with a hint of whine.
Tegoshi doesn’t look at him for the rest of the day. In all of the group shots, he somehow manages to avoid being next to Ryo, even when the photographer tells him, “Stand next to Nishikido, please.”
On the van ride back to Tokyo, Tegoshi sits next to Koyama.
I’m sorry.
That’s it. That’s all there is.
And so that’s it.
Ryo returns to Tegoshi’s apartment late at night on Tegoshi’s day off (Ryo has connections for such information, but Yamapi’s are better). Ryo’s work day has lasted twelve hours and he has to wake up in five to start another one, so he’s in no mood to deal with brush-offs or anything resembling bullshit.
Tegoshi’s eyes go wide for half a second, and then he relaxes and asks, “Do you want to come in?”
He hands Ryo a beer and doesn’t turn on the TV or play with his phone or any of the things Tegoshi usually does when things are good between them. He just stares at the floor and gives off an air of deep discomfort.
Ryo finishes his beer without saying a word because, fuck. Six months of ignoring him is not okay, and Tegoshi can get some of that back just to see what it feels like.
“Ryo-chan….”
“Hm?”
Tegoshi hasn’t looked up from the floor, just shifted a little bit like he had to move to work up the nerve to speak. “Listen…um. I think maybe we shouldn’t talk about—”
“How do you know I want to talk about that?” Ryo interrupts. “I don’t.”
Tegoshi says, “Oh,” but he doesn’t sound convinced.
“Tegonyan,” Ryo says.
Tegoshi’s head snaps up and then back down, forcefully.
Ryo puts his empty beer can on the table and throws a pillow at Tegoshi’s head. “Look at me.”
Tegoshi ducks the pillow but meets Ryo’s eyes anyway.
Now that he has Tegoshi’s attention, all Ryo can think of to say is, “What the hell was wrong with you?”
Which is, surprisingly, the right thing to say.
Tegoshi smiles, an automatic twitch that he doesn’t seem to try to suppress.
“You ignored me for six months,” Ryo continues. A dam’s burst. He’s pissed. Tegoshi’s going to hear all of it.
“No, I didn’t,” Tegoshi says, looking alarmed. “No, Ryo-chan, I didn’t!”
Ryo can’t even start on how incorrect that is.
“I didn’t know what to say,” Tegoshi explains. One of his fingers pops and Ryo notices one of Tegoshi’s hands closed in a fist on his thigh. “I didn’t do it to be cruel.”
“But you did ignore me,” Ryo says.
“I.” Tegoshi looks irritated, like it pains him to admit. “Yes. Fine. I did.” He doesn’t apologize.
Ryo sighs. “Didn’t you believe me? I told you I don’t care. I told you…” Well, no he didn’t. He implied. And he could have sworn Tegoshi made the connection and figured out where Ryo was coming from but. “You get it, right? About me?”
Tegoshi stares at him for so long Ryo says, “Never mind. I’m going home.”
He stands up and expects Tegoshi to stop him immediately. He doesn’t.
It's not until Ryo gets to the elevator that Tegoshi stops him.
“Ryo-chan, wait!”
He wasn’t really going to leave. He’d had all his weight on his left foot, prepared to back out of the elevator and go back to shake sense into Tegoshi’s obstinate head.
He returns to Tegoshi’s entryway but no farther, and he keeps his shoes on.
Tegoshi’s still in his bare feet. “Can you close the door, please?” he asks quietly.
Ryo pulls on the handle and it closes without a sound.
Tegoshi hugs him, hard.
Ryo exhales on a startled sound and doesn’t move until Tegoshi’s breath stutters out against his ear. Then, staring at the closed door of the bathroom, Ryo closes his arms around Tegoshi’s waist without knowing what he means.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH CIARA. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ And totally worth the wait. :D :D :D
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♥! :D You're fun to write for! "Pet names and drunkenness" was an awesome starting point, seriously. There were so many directions to choose from. XDDD
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THIS IS. I LIKE THIS. A LOT.
fksdhlfdsh *________*
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♥ THANK YOU, AWESOMENESS.
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tegoshi-ryo relationship is so cute <3
Really really love how you write this :)