Author's Notes: Soooo I've been wanting to write this for a while, and it definitely didn't turn out how I'd meant it to, but I think it's for the best XD Inspired by, of all things this picture :D Also, erm, kinda long XD It just dragged on and on and on... XD; |
A lesser man would've been offended. A lesser man would've been hurt, annoyed, confused, and just teetering on the verge of angry but biting his lip and holding his tongue and about to birth another wrinkle that Tamaoki-san would give him hell for when he saw it in the morning because, "Takashi-kun, if he's that unreliable, why do you put up with it?" But Nagayama Takashi was none of the above, he reminded himself. He wasn't--but Tuti was something. Tuti was late, and that was bad enough; he didn't need matters made worse by finally catching sight of a tall, lanky, familiar form slipping off the train and weaving through the crowd, holding a long black pea coat close around him only to lock eyes and immediately freeze with an, "Oh shit, him," look plastered on his face. Tuti's steps noticeably slowed, dragging towards the turnstiles beyond which Takashi waited patiently, his own jacket buttoned up tight against the crisp night air and arms crossed. Takashi tried not to notice this, though--tried not to notice how Tuti weaved a little from side to side, giving a start when an old lady pushed past him as he hesitated walking down the steps from the platform, tried not to notice how Tuti's eyes darted a little to look around Takashi, as if hoping that maybe Eiji-san or Gaku (hah!) had come along to hang out as well, and tried not to notice (but failed, ultimately, as well) how Tuti didn't seem nearly as glad to see him as he was Tuti, since they hadn't had a proper evening to spend together in weeks with rehearsals and performances and country tours. He'd texted Tuti a few times when he'd found a spare moment--mostly pictures of him eating strange things in Fukuoka, Nagoya, Shibuya, wherever he was dragged off for the next promotional event for his latest film endeavor, and Tuti would sent him back messages meant to elicit giggles or eyerolls or even the occasional eyebrow lift (seriously, the guy was spending more time with ladies nearly three times his age than Takashi cared to admit, it was a little disturbing), but never attempted anything more. He never suggested they make some time to talk on the phone, never suggested they get together after their schedules opened up a bit more, never even added pictures to his text messages. He saw more of Tuti on the guy's own blog than in anything more personal. It was frustrating, and one would've thought that after five years Takashi would be used to it. And he was, in some ways--but just now and then he wanted to know...well, that Tuti still cared about him..in that way, as more than a friend or someone to share a bad joke with. Still cared about them. If maybe Takashi were just a little less eager in his efforts to be near the man, what would happen? If he just stopped trying, how long would it take before Tuti realized? Would Tuti realize? Didn't he feel just as crappy as Takashi when they waited too long before hanging out again? Did he have moments like Takashi did, when in the middle of a perfectly enjoyable round of drinks with friends, he'd think about what kind of stupid joke Tuti would say in that situation? (Of course not--the people Tuti hung out with were usually funnier anyways.) He had known (or had a good idea, at least) what he'd been getting into when he took that plunge. Tuti'd warned him, breathless that first night and more soberly the next morning, that he didn't date, that he wasn't anything remotely close to someone easy to have a relationship with on any level--platonic, romantic, sexual, anything. Takashi had been too high on adrenaline to care at the time, and since then had just been...coasting. Coasting through their relationship for five years, nearly six. Buffeted along by a mutual appreciation for a good time in bed as much as good friendship, something warm and stirring in Takashi's chest just wouldn't let him put a firm hand to the fire and be done with it. And Tuti, of course...well, he'd said he'd never broken up with anyone. And Takashi was starting to understand why. Tuti was through the turnstile now, still looking like he'd just seen a ghost, and Takashi felt like crap--it had been a stupid idea to come here. He'd been waiting here in this same spot for over an hour since getting an altogether unhelpful text from Daiki-chan earlier that had assured him the guy was due any minute. His nose was cold and his ears were frozen and burning, but he hadn't wanted to put on his mask or hat because...well, just because. It would've been one more thing separating them, he grudgingly admitted, and while it was bordering on sappy, it was true. Tuti ducked a nod, sauntering over with his hands in his pocket and his bag swinging at his hip. "Hey..." "Hey," was Takashi's well-worded response, for despite the fact that he'd been reviewing in his head exactly how this reunion was going to go down over the past hour, all his well planned conversation-starters seemed to have left him. He swallowed a lump and forced a smile onto his lips, baring bright white teeth, "I've been freezing my ass off here waiting for you, you know." Tuti frowned, but the response was good-natured, "Maybe you should've called me and asked when I was getting home, then." Takashi moved to offer a quick retort, but found himself at a loss, cocking his head to one side. "Well--I figured you'd be...around soon anyways." "Then what's the deal?" He brushed past Takashi, knocking their shoulders together, then jerked his head towards a Family Mart. "I haven't had dinner, come help me pick out some ramen." Obediently, Takashi followed, jogging to catch up with Tuti's long strides down an alleyway. "Conbini food's no good for you, you know. Even ramen--it's better home-cooked." "You offering?" Tuti quirked an eyebrow, and at Takashi's eyeroll, he laughed. "Then quit whining, I'm not gonna keel over any time soon." "Just don't want you getting soft around the middle like Eiji-san." "Bite your tongue, Nagayama Takashi. Daiki-chan'll skin you alive." Takashi laughed and darted ahead to pull open the door to the conbini. "I think he's starting to buy into Moriyama-san's, 'I'm just big-boned,' schtick." "Now see?" Takashi reasoned, sauntering down the aisle nearest the door and reaching for a cup of seafood ramen before studying it, frowning at the sodium content, and placing it back on the shelf. "You don't want me to have to go around defending your weight to your friends like that, do you?" Tuti smiled, chuckling softly, and pushed past Takashi to a display of curry--with and without cheese--cup ramen. "I'd much prefer you just quietly slip me a cyanide pill in the next sashiire you bring to the rehearsal hall before that happens." He tossed a few cups into his basket, ignoring Takashi's raised eyebrow. "Besides, I've been cutting back lately." "Oh?" Takashi laughed incredulously, reaching into the basket and removing one of the cups, promptly returning it back to the shelf. "I can see that." "I'm serious," Tuti returned with a frown and sniffed. He was starting to regret bringing Takashi in here with him; he was never going to get anything remotely filling past the guy. "Really. You may soon be sleeping with the new, improved, tobacco-free teetotaling Tuti." Takashi paused, looking him up and down, curious, before smiling wider. "You don't have to go that far. Then you'd be..." He searched for a proper descriptor. "I dunno. Wasshi when he isn't drunk." Tuti sidled up to the register, dropping the basket in front of the cashier and pointing out a pack of cigarettes Takashi hadn't noticed him smoking before. Tuti caught his eye and smiled, a bit sheepishly. "Utae-san suggested it. Supposed to be better for your voice or something." "I said nothing," Takashi reminded innocently, raising his eyebrows and crossing his arms, averting his gaze while Tuti pulled a thousand-yen note from his wallet. "It's entirely your own prerogative to suck on girly death sticks." "Just because women tend to smoke them--" "Yeah yeah, wrap it up." Tuti nodded his thanks to the cashier and slung the plastic bag off the counter to hang at his side, marching towards the door at Takashi's heel. "What're you in a hurry for?" "Because I'm still freezing from waiting outside in the cold for someone and I want to get inside their very warm apartment." He reached down to take the plastic bag for himself, numb, gloveless fingers a blistered red. When he caught Tuti's frown at his carelessness in covering up, he just smiled. "I'm exaggerating. It's not bad." "Where are your gloves?" "Bag." "Why aren't you wearing a mask?" What was this, the third degree? Granted, flu and cold season was just starting up full force, but he didn't have to don the damn thing all the time; especially when he'd expected to only be out for a few minutes before stripping it off anyways. Takashi shrugged. "Not that big a deal." Tuti's frown softened into one of mild annoyance, and Takashi vaguely wondered if his moods were really that easy to read. "Whatever. Just don't go crying to my mom again like you did last year you caught that bug. Like she needs another excuse to fawn over my friends." Takashi smiled into his thin scarf, biting his lip where Tuti couldn't see it and glad to have the wind to blame for his flushed cheeks. "You're just jealous she sent me that thermos of pottage and not you even when you asked for one." "She won't even give me the damn recipe so I can make it myself!" "Bet she'd give it to me if I asked." Tuti lifted a brow. "Again, you offering?" "You're the one who wants to eat it." Tuti just shook his head, chuckling to himself, and Takashi sniffed with some disdain. "Anyways, I wouldn't want to turn into your replacement for a proper housewife; now if we were to work out some sort of compensation for my services..." He trailed off, grinning, and glanced over at Tuti out of the corner of his eye--but the guy had gone slack-jawed and was staring ahead, nervously glancing aorund the empty back-street they'd taken after leaving the conbini headed for Tuti's nearby apartment. "Tuti?" "No--I guess not." He snapped back to attention, a loud bark of laughter echoing off the quiet, dark brick walls of the structures around them. "Maybe I'll try and give her another smooth talking next time I head home." He lifted his brows, silently probing Takashi's opinion on the idea. "Hmm, yeah--it hasn't worked the past ten times you tried. Eleventh time's the charm, I guess?" Tuti knocked their shoulders together again, nearly sending Takashi slipping on a patch of half-melted snow. "Careful there, grace." "Says the oaf who shoved me." Tuti shrugged in a 'what're you gonna do about it?' way, but Takashi just readjusted his pack on his shoulder and plodded on. "So, what were you doing?" "What? When?" "Earlier. Daiki-chan said you had some errand or something..." "Oh...audition, actually." Takashi's brows lifted in approval. "Well, details?" Tuti shrugged again, never too keen on regaling Takashi--or anyone for that matter--on jobs before they were landed. He tended to grill himself hard, picking apart his performance enough on his own without wanting to lay it all bare for another, even Takashi. "Nothing big, but Tsumura-san was going out for one of the roles, too, so..." He trailed off, and Takashi pursed his lips, unable to stop himself before he was already babbling. "I don't get why you never try out for bigger stuff." Tuti shot him a look--half offended and half genuinely curious. "What are you talking about?" "Nothing, just--I mean, you're always going for 'nothing big.'" A shrug. "You love acting, even if you don't love the limelight. I don't understand why you wouldn't want to...you know, challenge yourself more." Instead of snapping on the offensive, as Takashi might have expected, Tuti actually was silent for a moment, parsing the words. "I just...don't really feel like it, I guess. I like the company of a cast, being a part of something fun, and--" He readjusted the cap on his head for lack of anything else to add. "Maybe I'll get around to it eventually." Takashi didn't remind him that unless you were a committed career actor, married to his craft and driven to greater heights and bigger parts, there wasn't all that much eventually left for them. Tuti probably imagined himself winding up like the veteran actors he shared the stage with, the men and women in their 60s, 70s, 80s still lighting up the stage with comedic and dramatic prowess before poncing off to an uchiage afterwards to drunkenly hit on kouhai half their age or more. More likely than not, though, he was just going to burn out popularity-wise unless *pnish* started taking advantage of their hard-earned business connections. He envied *pnish*, he really did. These four guys had managed to find each other in the chaos that was the greater Tokyo metropolitan area and had made their unit work. They weren't overly attractive, despite Eiji-san's penchant for being "Sexy-chan", but you still couldn't deny they had charisma in spades. He half wondered why they didn't all just cut back on their personal agendas and start really promoting themselves beyond the odd semi-annual event or performance. Tuti had one time jokingly (drunkenly) suggested Takashi just join up with the group--and he often found himself regretting not putting forth a little effort to that end. Before the silence that had settled between them could become too awkward, they'd arrived at Tuti's apartment. Takashi's boots scraped across the cold concrete at the base of the stairs, and he waited for Tuti to mount them ahead of him, key at the ready. Two flights up and three doors down, Tuti fiddled with the lock for a moment, hands shaking, before yanking it open, motioning for Takashi to enter first. Readjusting his grip on the bags, Takashi nodded his thanks with a wan smile before crossing the threshold, toeing off his boots gingerly while Tuti held the door behind him. Free of his boots at last, he padded into the kitchen area with confidence won from many a morning spent there, setting the bag down on the uncleared table still littered with remnants of Tuti's breakfast that morning (crusts of toast, a half-finished glass of orange juice, an apple with two bites taken out of it--wasteful, their mothers would've griped). He wandered into the living room, eyeing Tuti's low sofa piled high with clean laundry (at least, he hoped it was clean) with mild disappointment. The guy really had been busy; normally he didn't put up with this kind of stuff in his own living space, even if he was a terror on the road. The sound of the door shutting called him back to the kitchen, and he was halfway through removing his coat and scarf when Tuti stalked into the room, tossing his keys haphazardly onto the table. "You've sure been letting yourself go, Tsuchiya-san," Takashi laughed, jerking his head towards the sofa behind him. "Your breakfast seemed to have evolved into--" But any further quips he might have been inspired to deal out were silenced in his throat when Tuti's hands slid up his chest and wrapped around the back of his head, pulling him close for a deep, determined kiss, without any pretense of innocence or foreplay and skipping right to the desperate stroking and sucking usually reserved for moments with less clothing and more bodily fluids, guiding Takashi back step by step until he bumped against the couch and went tumbling down. Somewhere in the back of his mind, right about when the way Tuti's breath against his cheek sent a shiver down his spine that made Takashi's jeans tighten, he reminded himself that this was just Tuti's way of not talking about Things, and if Takashi kept letting them not talk about Things, then their relationship was just going to devolve into two friends having a good time--if it ever had been anything else, admittedly. "Fuck--Tuti, st--" He scrambled to leverage his arms under Tuti's chest--not an easy feat when one was crushed between his body and the back of the sofa. He managed to find purchase with his free limb, shoving just hard enough to get Tuti's attention, and to his great relief the man relented, hovering just over Takashi's lips and breathing hard against his cheek. There was a moment of silence while they caught their breath, hearts racing in a thrum that sounded deafening to Takashi's ears. He tried to inject some humor into the situation. "Buy a girl a drink first, would you?" Instead of replying, without even a chuckle or smile or acknowledgement that Takashi's quip had landed, Tuti leaned further into the couch, balancing his weight more evenly, and tilted his head further to the side, pressing in again with far more restraint and gentling than he'd shown only a moment before, this time asking only the feather lightest of lip brushes. Takashi breathed in sharply at the contact, and Tuti then closed the distance again, now with soft but unyielding pressure, massaging the lips beneath his own with tactile entreaties and a slow, steady rhythm that Takashi would've been hard-pressed to ignore under any circumstances. Forgetting his worries for a moment, he let himself be nudged to the side and lowered flat onto the couch, sliding the free hand up Tuti's chest, over the thin t-shirt material, to stroke at his bared neck (that damn cyst was back again...), thumb rubbing a mesmerizing circle just below his jaw. Tuti made a soft noise that Takashi assumed meant he liked that, and smiled into the kiss, lifting up just enough to free his other arm. They melted into a comfortable, steady give and take for another few moments before Tuti disturbed the balance once again, letting one hand trail down Takashi's chest to mess with the hem of his shirt, slowly hiking it up and drawing lazy, muddied figures in the sensitive skin across Takashi's abdomen, his intentions clear. Takashi stiffened under his ministrations here, a protest lodged in his throat, and he now called upon both his arms to bodily stop Tuti, pressing himself further down into the cushions to put as much distance between their lips as possible. Tuti whined, offended at the loss of contact, but Takashi was already jabbering to fill the silence. "Tuti--Tuti stop. Stop." And Tuti did, again, because he wasn't a jerk and they weren't so far into their routine that either one of them was going to be left feeling particularly unfulfilled. Tuti let himself be pushed away further, now, gaze averted off to the side like he was just waiting for Takashi to get himself together before diving right in again, and it was this that burned Takashi--Tuti's characteristic refusal to see straight and approach anything head on, instead opting to take the long way around that usually landed them fighting or refusing to talk period. He pursed his lips and just decided to be out with it. "...What's your problem?" It was harsher, more accusing than was probably appropriate considering who he was talking to; approach Tuti on the offensive, and you'd get an equally solid defense. But the night was just too cold, he'd been kept waiting too long when Tuti had to have known he was there, and he just didn't feel like coddling the guy right now. If he wanted to clam up, Takashi could do that too; it was only a five minute walk back to the train station, after all. But he figured he should at least try to resolve whatever niggling little thing was keeping them from more pleasant endeavors. "It's just...you seemed kind of out of it. Before." Tuti pulled back into what had to be an uncomfortable seiza position, a truthfully unexpected move, and Takashi proped himself up on his elbows, head cocked to one side as he took in the man, curious as to where this was all headed. He'd thought Tuti would brush him off altogether, or maybe just confess he was still nervous about the outcome of the audition. Maybe he'd been getting crap from his new manager about fan mail again. Tuti stared at him soberly, swallowing hard. "...I think I...I think that I'm...gay." His gaze was back off to the side, unable to meet Takashi's now that he'd dropped his bomb. Takashi blinked, for his eyes were starting to go dry with the staring, and he cast a glance about the room, as if perhaps one of Tuti's appliances might explain the quite unecessary confession. To no avail. Was this some rhetorical comment or something? Did Tuti...not understand what it meant when one was in a relationship with someone of their own gender (or hell, maybe Takashi didn't understand correctly...)? Instead of voicing these thoughts, though, he just huffed an incredulous chuckle. "I...okay? Was there...some confusion as to that, before?" He swallowed, smile falling when Tuti didn't crack. "Tuti, seriously, what the hell is going on?" Tuti raked his eyes over Takashi's body--and for the first time that evening, Takashi felt just a little self-conscious. It didn't feel romantic at all; he felt...well, like a piece of meat. "I just...thought that maybe it was just you?" "'Just me', what?" "Just you that I felt this way about." Oh. Well. Takashi didn't think himself the jealous type, but who said that to their significant other? Who just came out and said they'd been oogling someone else, maybe someone more attractive or more intriguing on more levels than you could offer? Tuti could be an insensitive jerk, sure, but--there were limits even to his asshattery. To his credit, Tuti seemed to sense he hadn't quite phrased himself adequately, and he crawled forward a bit, arms stiff at his sides as he leaned over Takashi. "I mean...I thought it was just you, that...it didn't matter that you were a friend or a coworker or--a guy." He swallowed. "But now I think...that I just, might be gay. Is all." Takashi still stared at him blankly, patently not getting what he was trying to say. "I don't want a--girlfriend or a wife or--or anything like that. Even if it's not with you, I don't think..." He trailed off, like he just couldn't work out how to be any clearer than that. "...So you don't want to date girls." It wasn't a question, it wasn't even a confirmation. It was a, "so what?" statement. There was naive, and then there was just thick. "...No..." Tuti allowed, not sure if Takashi understood him the way he was meant to or if he was just being humored. "...And that's what you're being weird about?" Ah, so it was the latter. Tuti looked like he wanted to use some words his mother would frown upon, but he bit his lip. "No--I want--" God, was he really going to have to... But Takashi was staring up at him looking like he genuinely didn't know what Tuti's problem was but desperately wanted to. "...I really like you." Takashi flushed a bit--which was funny, really, considering their position, all that they'd done over the course of their relationship, confessions they'd made. Still, it didn't mean nothing when Tuti reminded him that he still felt that way about him. "I--thanks? I like you, too." Guarded humor, a smooth parrying of the seriousness of the situation. "You're really...really hot, you know..." Okay, now it was getting just a little uncomfortable; it was one thing for nameless, faceless fans and blog commenters to talk about him looking cute or cool or even sexy in an outfit or pose from one of any hundred photoshoots, but somehow with Tuti crouched over him, confessing so blatantly and out loud that he found Takashi attractive...it felt...cheap, almost. Like it meant less coming from someone who mattered. Not that he didn't hope Tuti thought he looked good, pleasing to the eye as it were--of course it made him feel good to know that. It just...meant more, when he didn't have to hear it, paradoxically. Knowing deep down that when Tuti raked him over with his gaze while changing in a gakuya he was imagining them in a much more private setting engaging in much more intimate activities, that was the best. Brows furrowed in worry, he bit his lip. "...Tuti, I don't--" "I just--really wantyoutofuckme." Takashi grimaced--even for Tuti, it was a little crude, and quite badly timed. After a beat, he glanced away. "Tuti, I'm really not in the mood now, you're really being--" "Not--no," Tuti muttered, shaking his head in frustration--at himself or at Takashi's attitude, he couldn't be sure. "That's not--I want you to..." He swallowed, face going slack and eyes glassing over. "...Not, to you. To me." Oh. Oh. That was a different matter entirely--and the 180 that Takashi's expression pulled, color draining away as he finally twigged as to what exactly Tuti was trying to convey in the most round-about way possible, related his thoughts on the subject perfectly. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, soft noises coming out in choked confusion as he struggled to piece his thoughts together. "I--god Tuti, that's--" "I know! I just--" He leaned back into his seiza position again (maybe he found the discomfort distracting) and rubbed at his face, running a hand through his hair and looking, paradoxically enough, like he'd just been unburdened of a heavy, taxing load and was now just struggling to put everything in its place. "It's not weird--well, no, okay it is, but it's just, I've never done it--we've never done it--" Never? "--and, it just hit me the other day--" So this was a whim? "--and I don't know maybe it's selfish but I just..." Takashi wasn't sure if he should be annoyed or angry or frustrated--so he settled for a little bit of everything while Tuti fumbled for words, looking like he wished he'd never said anything in the first place. On this, Takashi and he were in agreement. Tired of waiting for Tuti to piece together an argument, Takashi glanced away, smiling but not amused. "So--you think you might be gay, and figured if anyone could help you figure it out, good ol' Takashi could? Any warm body with a cock'll do until you get it 'sorted out'?" It'd explain the guy's earlier weird mood and uncharacteristically silent fervor. Tuti flushed, angry that his bumbled confession had fallen so wrongly on Takashi's ears and frustrated he hadn't been able to better express himself. "That's--no, dammit. It was you. I just--" He closed his eyes, refocusing his thoughts. "I'd never thought about--it, before." "Before what?" "Before! Before you started...looking less like a 14-year-old girl and more like...well, like you do now." Takashi's brows furrowed, and his fingers immediately went to his face, brushing over the stubble that lined his jaw and upper lip, pebbling his chin and neck with a scratchy lawn of tiny hairs that symbolized to all and sundry that Nagayama Takashi was a manly man with manly man parts and that while he might don the occasional slightly femenine garment, it made him no less...manly. He grumped a mumbled protest, repeating himself when he felt it lost in the thick air between them, "I've held off shaving before..." "Yeah, but--Takashi. God." He actually had the nerve to laugh, albeit a nervous chuckle that quickly died in his throat when he swallowed around a lump. "Just--like I said. I don't know." He licked his lips again and leaned forward, deliberately holding back, though, so as not to appear threatening. "All I do know is that...if--if I'd noticed it earlier..." "Then?" "...Then maybe I wouldn't sound like an idiot asking you to do this now." Takashi frowned, disappointed more in the tone, and Tuti added, desperate, "Just--it doesn't have to be now. Or tonight or whatever. And it's not because I want to 'test' anything or whatever the hell you seem to think I'm asking for. You're--it's you, so...I want to. Is all." Takashi pursed his lips, looking him square in the eye. "You sure can say embarrassing things like that easily." "Just because you don't like it when I tell you you look good--for whatever weird reason you've made up in your head--doesn't mean I'm not allowed to say it." "Don't, then, if you know I don't like it." His voice had an edge that told Tuti while they might've seemed like they'd been bantering just now, Takashi was serious. He shook his head. "...I don't get you sometimes." "Then we're even," Takashi sniffed, crossing his arms and lying back flat on the couch. "...Can you just...let me think about it?" "Sure, yeah." He sounded entirely too happy and knowing underneath that obliging admission for Takashi's comfort. "So this is why you've been acting weird?" "Don't I always act weird?" Takashi gave him a Look. "Lately, then...I guess. You've been doing those stage greetings for your movie and whatnot..." He made a few gestures in the air, like he could mime to Takashi what he was talking about. Takashi just raised an eyebrow, amused at the man's fluency with language. "And you just--looked really--" He caught himself, licking his lips. "I guess it's been a long time coming." Takashi rolled his eyes. "...So what were you intending to do then--if I hadn't stopped you earlier?" If he'd expected Tuti to fumble with his words again or lose himself muttering an apology or excuse, he'd grossly underestimated Tuti's dedication in this respect. Tuti leaned forward again, stretching himself out long and lean over Takashi, and leaned down until their faces were just close a hair too close for comfort but exactly close enough to set Takashi's blood thrumming through his veins in anticipation. "Would've shown you what I wanted." He couldn't help the way his lips quirked up into an excited smile, settling for firmly biting his bottom lip to stop the damn thing from making it seem like this sounded like the best show-and-tell idea ever. Takashi pushed up just enough to bring their lips together, as light and soft now as it had been hot and desperate before, and he lingered as long as possible before it turned into an okay done thinking about it let's go champ thing because, well, it was cold, and he was tired, and he still hadn't eaten, and Tuti's place was a wreck--and Tuti deserved better. He wanted to give Tuti better. And Tuti wanted it--him. "It's freezing in here," he whispered against Tuti's lips, smiling when Tuti blinked at him entirely too cutely for a guy who'd just spilled his guts to him. "Oh--shit, sorry. I forgot to turn on the heater before I--well. I forgot to turn on the heater." He eased off the couch, hobbling towards the wall on legs that had likely lost much of their feeling from his seiza position, and clapped a hand on the remote to turn on the air, casting a cautious glance at the rattling wall heater. "Sorry," he apologized again, apparently honestly embarrassed he hadn't thought of this earlier. Or honestly sorry for jumping Takashi without thinking about their surroundings. Takashi just waved him off. "...Hungry?" Tuti appeared to consider this for a moment, then nodded. Maybe he'd just been mentally resigning himself to jerking off in the shower before bed. It was certainly on Takashi's to-do list now that he'd set his own mental ultimatum of Nothing Happening Tonight. "Good." He rolled off the couch, stretching his limbs and swinging his arms about to get the blood circulating again--it did him no good to have it all pooled in his pants--and padded into the kitchen, glancing around. "Where'd you put the ramen?" "Takashi." "Hm?" He threw a glance over his shoulder and was met halfway by Tuti's lips on his (again?), smiling against his own in a brief burst of passion before pulling back and brushing Takashi aside to take care of their dinner arrangements himself. "...The hell was that for?" he laughed, confused, but Tuti just shrugged, popping the lid on his water heater and topping it off with water from a mug by the sink. "So you're making dinner?" "If heating water is your definition of 'making dinner'." Point. "Fine--I'm hopping in the shower, then." He caught Tuti's eye before he rounded the corner, and his shoulders slumped. "I'm tired." "I didn't say anything," Tuti responded innocently, refocusing his attentions on setting the hotpot. "You looked at me." "Looked at you how?" "Like you wanted to--" He cut himself off, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes because he knew Tuti liked setting him up for a fall that way. He breathed hard through his nose and glanced away, not willing to be baited so easily. "The water's gonna take a few minutes to boil. In case you were wondering or anything." "I wasn't." "Oh, sorry--I guess that was me." "I'm taking a shower," Takashi repeated resolutely, turning his back to indicate he was finished arguing on Tuti's strange terms. "You'd better not come in." "Ah, reverse psychology. I like that." "I'm locking the door." He slammed the door in Tuti's face. "Joke's on you--the bathroom doesn't have a lock," Tuti sang through the thin wood, and smiled at the cursing that echoed from the other side. After a moment, the door opened again. "Hi." "You're not cute." "I've been told I can be." "By who?" "My boyfriend." "He's an idiot." "Hey--" He pushed Takashi back against the door to the shower, banging against it a bit rougher than necessary, and Takashi shivered when his bare flesh came in contact with the cold plastic and glass. Tuti leaned in close, running a finger down Takashi's jawline. "...Don't talk about my boyfriend like that." Takashi reached up and gripped him hard around the wrist, stopping him fast but not moving his hand. "...Your water's going to boil." "I'll boil some more." "I'm hungry." "I am, too." It was quite apparent all references to cup ramen and hotpots had flown right out the window by now. Tuti cocked his head, curious. "Weren't you going to take a shower?" "I was. Thought I might see if my boyfriend wanted to join me." "Now why would he want to do that?" Takashi shrugged ambivalently. "Beats me; but he won't shut up about it, so I thought I'd be nice..." "Lucky guy." Takashi used his free hand to unlatch the stall door, pressing it in and stepping backwards into the narrow stall. Tuti was already tugging off his own shirt, tossing it haphazardly into an overflowing laundry basket. "...I have to be in Shinjuku by noon." "I have to be in Kichijouji by 11." "Then we should probably be quick." "So romantic, Nagayama-san." Takashi swallowed, not taking the bait. "Are we..." He felt around beside him for the faucet to turn the spray on--with a little voice in the back of his mind reminding him he probably should be naked before getting in the shower--wholly so, and not only half so. He didn't much care at the moment. "I'm still thinking. About our conversation earlier, just so you know." Tuti braced his arms against the doorjamb to the stall, raising one eyebrow. "...Did you really think I wanted to try it in my one-square-meter shower?" "I never know what you're thinking." "Well right now I'm thinking that maybe you'll want to take off your pants before you turn on the water." He was already toeing off his own jeans, standing in the chilly bathroom in his boxers and socks. "After that...I was kind of hoping to not be thinking of much of anything." "...I can probably handle that." "Glad that's settled." "I should take off my pants." "...I could take them off for you." Takashi bit back a smile again. It probably shouldn't be cute when Tuti was seductive. But it usually was. "So romantic, Tsuchiya-san." Tuti took a step forward, filling the tiny stall with his tall, lanky form, and grabbed Takashi by the beltloops, pulling him forward. "On occasion, maybe. I try to keep it a secret." His fingers fiddled with the complicated buttons and zippers that he was positive Takashi had fastened in preparation for this very moment, just to mess with him. Takashi sucked in a breath, face now mere inches away from Tuti's. "You do a good job of it most of the time." Tuti licked his lips, face going slack again like whatever clever quip he'd had perched on his lips had just been wiped away by the action. "Absence makes the heart grow fonder--isn't that how it goes?" "Mmm," Takashi agreed, closing his eyes. "Hurry up with my pants." "In a hurry?" Takashi braced one arm against Tuti's chest. "Just hungry." In Tuti's kitchen, the water heater beeped its completion. They were both late to their appointments the next day. |
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