Koyama loves to drive. Whenever any of them go somewhere, Koyama always offers to chauffeur even if he’s not invited. Many times he’s carted Tegoshi and his friends around, taken Shige to the library, and split the road trip duties with Yamapi since all six of them can’t fit in Koyama’s car.
(Well, can’t fit comfortably. They tried it once and while Koyama didn’t mind the extra closeness at all, Shige wasn’t too happy with the way Koyama had to shift between his legs. Tegoshi, Yamapi, and Ryo had no problem sleeping on each other in the backseat, and eventually Shige just sat on Massu’s lap when Koyama kept going up and down hills that had him constantly switching between first and second gear.)
Sometimes he wishes he could ride in Yamapi’s open car, the wind whipping through his hair as he closes his eyes and doesn’t have to worry about the road, but he knows that deep down he wants to be the navigator. Every turn, every stop, even the speed is regulated by him, trusting his own eyes and judgment over anyone else’s.
Ryo thinks that this is the manliest trait Koyama has, even if Koyama doesn’t understand exactly what he means by that. While he will admit that he likes having control of his own vehicle, he doesn’t think that makes him anymore S than he obviously is not. It’s not like he doesn’t let them listen to whatever music they want or be loud and obnoxious to other drivers. (He remembers having to scrub extra hard on the back window after Ryo gave Hina and Yoko a full moon when they passed them one time).
Koyama just likes to drive. He likes the feel of the steering wheel under his fingers, turning the wheels how he directs. He likes pushing the pedals at his pace, gradually approaching the speed limit instead of pushing his foot to the floor. He’s gentle with his clutch, having already replaced it once and in no hurry to do it again. He’s in no hurry to do anything, really, even get to where he’s going. If it means that his baby lasts another ten thousand miles, he’ll take the extra ten minutes to reach his destination.
When Ryo finally gets his own car, Koyama doesn’t feel threatened at all. Ryo doesn’t even like to drive down the street, so there’s no way he’ll intrude on Koyama’s territory of playing soccer mom and being half of the group caravan. Besides, if he’s being honest, Ryo’s car isn’t anything special. It looks like something a regular university student would drive, not an idol with a double salary.
Yamapi’s waxing his car in the parking lot, donning a wifebeater with a scarf wrapped around his head when Ryo pulls up next to them for the first time. Koyama always parks next to Yamapi’s car, has for years. They’re both black and shiny, even if Yamapi’s is shinier right now because of the maintenance he’s performing.
They both pause and stare as Ryo’s burgundy sedan parks on the other side of Yamapi. “It doesn’t match,” Koyama says out loud, to which Yamapi nods.
“Hey, when you’re done, you can do mine!” Ryo greets them, leaning against his hood like he has no respect for his finish.
“I don’t think so,” Yamapi tells him good-naturedly, returning to his own hood.
“Why are you doing this at work anyway?” Ryo inquires. “Do you have that much free time?”
Yamapi scoffs. “The lighting is better here,” he responds. “Usually Jin does it, but he hasn’t lost any bets for the past month and she needed a touch-up.”
Koyama admires how Yamapi treats his car, like a lover. He wonders if he has a name for it, like Koyama does for his but won’t tell anyone. It’s private, he insists. It’s like naming his penis, which apparently all of Kanjani8 do and Koyama could have gone his entire life without knowing that (particularly since some of them are named after each other).
They both cringe when Ryo slaps the hood of his car in parting. “Have fun boffing!” he says to Yamapi, clearly bored with the two of them and their vehicular affairs as he trots off to wherever he goes before work – probably to curl up with a warm body and go back to sleep.
What Koyama likes the most about Yamapi, he thinks, is that he doesn’t mind when people stare at him. Either that or he honestly doesn’t notice, but Koyama theorizes that so many years in the spotlight has led him to become a little of both. People are always looking at Yamapi, appreciating his body or the way he moves, and the only difference here is that Koyama is appreciating what he’s doing. Taking such good care of his car, his baby, despite such a busy schedule shows how caring and patient he would be with a lover, or even children.
The thought of children makes Koyama’s heart boom. Yamapi would make beautiful babies. When he imagines them, he sees Abiru Yuu as the mother, remembering how happy they were together for so long until it got impossible for her to tolerate the long periods of time they were apart. Koyama can’t really blame her; he doesn’t think any of them could stay good friends with Yamapi if they didn’t work together.
For the infinite-th number of times, Koyama is grateful to be a part of NewS.
“Kei,” Yamapi’s voice interrupts his thoughts, and Koyama tries not to blush like someone who just got caught staring.
“Hmm?” he says casually.
Yamapi holds up the bottle of wax and a clean shammy cloth. “I said, do you want to use the rest? There should be enough for your exterior.”
“Oh, usually I get mine done…” Koyama looks away in embarrassment, feeling like a tool. “I should probably start doing it myself, huh?”
“Such a diva,” Yamapi jokes, but he’s smiling as he grabs another cloth and throws one at Koyama. “We’ll have enough time if we do it together. I’ll show you.”
“Okay,” Koyama agrees, feeling a little weird at the way Yamapi just touches his car like it’s his own. He watches intently as Yamapi squirts the wax onto the cloth and wipes in circles on the back side panel, minding the edges for the gas cap and trunk. He’s gentle yet firm, causing Koyama’s protective feathers to become less ruffled as his car becomes more shiny.
“You try,” Yamapi tells him, pressing the bottle in his hand. “You have to use the right amount of pressure to distribute the wax evenly, but not so much that you harm the paint.”
Koyama nods and takes a deep breath, psyching himself up for this big step in his relationship with his car. This is much different than washing it – which Koyama doesn’t do himself either – more intimate, almost. Having Yamapi here feels like an intrusion, but at the same time a necessary one.
He’d never say it out loud, but right now it feels like Yamapi is teaching him how to have sex.
“That’s good,” Yamapi says softly, stepping closer to see the results of Koyama’s work. “Try doing it a little harder, you’re leaving some residue in your wake.”
Koyama closes his eyes and wills himself to get his mind out of the gutter. Such a pervert, he berates himself. He shakes his head and puts on his determined face, mumbling “yosh” as he follows Yamapi’s instruction and sees his car gleam brightly back at him.
He tries not to think about Yamapi doing the other side, simply grateful for his help since his car has much more surface to cover than Yamapi’s. They’re careful to avoid each other on the roof, picking up the leftover wax in each other’s swirls like it’s a carefully-planned choreography.
“Ah,” Yamapi says proudly when they finish, standing back to look at the pair of shiny black cars together (conveniently ignoring Ryo’s). “They’re like two peas in a pod, Kei.”
Koyama manages to nod as he rushes to calm his nerves.
“No way Yamapi is the girl,” Tegoshi says bluntly, eyeing the two of them in disapproval as they put together the dance for Ginza Rhapsody.
“Takes one to know,” mutters Shige from the corner, looking rather proud of his joke.
Tegoshi rolls his eyes and flips his hair. “Honestly, Kei-chan would be a better hostess.”
Sadly, Koyama agrees.
“It has to be this way,” Yamapi says firmly.
“Because Kei makes an ugly girl?” Ryo guesses.
Koyama is inclined to nod when Yamapi shakes his head. “That’s just the way they put it together. I don’t see why you’re worrying about it – I’m the one who has to be the girl!”
“Maybe Tegoshi is jealous that he doesn’t get to be the girl,” Massu teases.
They laugh amiably while Tegoshi makes his frustrated face. “That’s not it at all!”
“Tegoshi would make an awful hostess,” Shige comments, and the rest of them nod in agreement when they stop to think about it.
Koyama frets as they practice, thinking of Tegoshi’s words and trying his best to act like a man. This would have been easier if they’d made Yamapi crossdress, because to Koyama being on the same stage with Yamapi automatically negates any testosterone from his side.
“You’re not confident at all,” Yamapi tells him when they watch the replay of their rehearsal. “The girl in me wonders why she wastes her time with you.”
Even though he knows it’s a joke, Koyama’s laugh is forced. “Leader looks so graceful,” he compliments. “It’s hard to compare.”
“You don’t have to be graceful,” says Yamapi. “This song is about yearning, forbidden love. You need to be passionate, fierce.”
Koyama’s wrists start to wring at the thought of such an emotion.
“Let’s try this,” Yamapi suggests, his eyes lighting up as the idea comes to him. “Pretend I’m your car.”
“What?” Koyama responds automatically. “My car?”
“You are very protective of your car, aren’t you?” Yamapi says knowingly. “I saw you flinch the other day when I helped you wax it. You don’t like other people touching it.”
“I’m sorry,” Koyama says quickly. “I know you were only trying to help.”
“No, no.” Yamapi waves away the concern. “You’re misunderstanding me. That is the feeling you need to portray. You’re a patron who’s in love with a hostess. How do you feel about other people touching her?”
Koyama thinks about the time Kusano tried to steal his keys and got as far as opening the door before Koyama nearly pulled his hair out. (At least he thought about doing that as he gently pried the keys from Kusano’s fingers with a very forced smile and overly gentle tone.) “I don’t like it.”
“And?” Yamapi prods.
“And it makes me want to fight for her,” Koyama admits, looking at the ground as a wave of shame hits him.
Yamapi pulls him to his feet, lifting up his face until their eyes meet. “That’s the feeling you need here, Kei. Right now you’re just letting her go, letting those other guys take her away from you. Show me that possession, that fire of jealousy you keep hidden inside you. I know it’s there, I saw it.”
Koyama inhales sharply and stands straight. “I will do my best.”
As they go through the routine once again, Koyama allowing his inner fury to surface in their dance, he thinks Yamapi is a better leader than he gives himself credit for.
If only because he felt the pull between them because of it.
“Did you hear?” Tegoshi greets him on the last day of practice before their mini-vacation. “Ryo-tan’s going to drive to the onsen too!”
Koyama twitches as he turns to look at Ryo. “Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Ryo grins smugly, like he knows a big secret, and Koyama’s only paranoid for a second until he remembers that Ryo usually wears that face. “I thought I’d give you a break.”
“But…” Koyama starts, looking at Tegoshi’s happy grin. “I don’t mind driving.”
“Kei-chan always drives,” Tegoshi chirps. “You should relax this time, yeah?”
Yamapi looks up from where he’d been staring off into space. “Kei can still drive if he wants. It would be okay for me to ride shotgun for once.”
“No,” Tegoshi says with big eyes. “I like riding in Yamapi’s open car.”
Koyama frowns in confusion. “But I thought you-”
Ryo laughs, cutting him off. “Tegoshi always rides with Yamapi.”
“You should ride with Yamapi too,” Tegoshi says pointedly to Koyama. “He’s a good driver.”
“I’m a good driver,” Koyama says sadly.
“I really want to drive this time,” Ryo says pointedly. “I’ll get there twice as fast as you grandmas.”
Yamapi laughs. “It’s not a race, Ryo-chan.”
“It’s okay,” Koyama says quickly, not wanting to cause a conflict. “Yamapi and Ryo-chan can drive. It doesn’t matter who I ride with.”
He thinks his act is pretty convincing until he feels Yamapi’s arm around his shoulder and realizes he’s shaking. “I have a way to solve this!” Yamapi declares.
Ryo and Tegoshi stare at him expectantly. Massu looks up in interest while Shige rolls his eyes.
“Kei will drive my car,” Yamapi says solidly, patting Koyama on the back before letting go.
It takes a second for his words to reach Koyama’s brain, at which time he sputters and gapes. “What?”
“Ooh, that works out for everybody!” Tegoshi says gleefully. “I claim third in Yamapi’s car, since of course Leader has shotgun.”
Koyama continues to stare incredulously at Yamapi while Massu and Shige lazily janken for shotgun in Ryo’s car. Shige wins and doesn’t seem to care at all.
That all being decided, they return to work and go over a few minor step changes before they’re free for two whole days. As they disperse after the final plans have been made for the next morning, Koyama leans over to Yamapi and speaks low so that Ryo won’t overhear. “Are you sure?”
“Jin drives my car all the time,” Yamapi says casually. “You’re a much better driver than him.”
“You’ve never ridden with me,” Koyama points out. “How would you know that?”
Yamapi smiles. “You’re you.”
Koyama takes a deep breath as he settles in the driver’s seat. “This feels all wrong,” he says out loud.
“Tell me about it.” Yamapi makes a face as he changes the settings on the passenger seat. “You can put it back if you need to. I know you’re taller than me.”
Fingering the unfamiliar controls feels like adultery; Koyama’s face feels warm as he gives himself more leg room. “This is really okay?” he asks one last time.
“Kei,” Yamapi says gently. “I trust you. And I don’t mind not driving for once.”
The short distance to Tegoshi’s house has Koyama feeling exhilarated. Yamapi’s car seems to purr under his control and ride much more smoothly than his, even for a manual. While Yamapi’s inside with Tegoshi and his mother, making sure he has everything (which is usually Koyama’s job), he familiarizes himself with all of the buttons and dials that are different than his.
Yamapi keeps the inside of his car very clean, which is something that Koyama can’t say the same for himself. The interior seems to shine just like the exterior – Yamapi must Armor All on a regular basis – and the upholstery feels barely used. This seat should be contoured to Yamapi’s body (and maybe Jin’s) by now, yet Koyama seems to sink into the leather that hugs him naturally.
“I think I’m in love with your car,” he says when Yamapi returns with Tegoshi and a good number of suitcases.
Yamapi smiles. “She has that effect on people.”
Koyama runs his hand along the soft suede of Yamapi’s steering wheel cover, then balances the clutch as he gently shifts into first and leads them away from the curb.
“I thought I shifted gracefully,” Yamapi comments impressively, his eyes locked on Koyama’s wrist.
Inwardly, Koyama beams with pride. He gets used to the new surroundings sooner than he thought he would, driving it like it’s his own and being extra-special careful of other drivers. Usually Koyama would blare his horn if someone cut him off, but when it happens (as it inevitably does) he just lets up on the gas and allows the offender to get in front of them.
Yamapi sideglances while Tegoshi keeps singing along with the radio. “She’s not going to break, Kei. She can hold her own.”
The next time it happens, Koyama taps on the horn and immediately the other person jumps back into their lane and waves apologetically.
Yamapi looks satisfied as he puts his seat back and sleeps for the rest of the ride.
Koyama can still feel the gentle vibrations when they reach their destination, their favorite onsen resort that’s just far enough away from the city to be relaxing. He’s looking forward to a day and night of no restrictions, no boundaries as they shed their clothes and relax in the comfort of the warm water and each other’s company.
True to his nature, Yamapi’s shed everything but his headband the minute they walk into their room. Koyama wishes he had the confidence to bear it all like that, always feeling so awkward every time he has to take off his shirt for a performance.
Massu’s the most modest of the six, but nobody really calls him on it anymore. They’re just happy that he comes on these trips with them now – for awhile he wouldn’t. He keeps his towel on when they go into the bath, and that’s just how it is. Koyama kind of admires him as well for being able to go against what everyone else is doing because it makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t seem to be bothered with anyone else’s nudity, just his own.
Koyama usually ends up forgetting about it fifteen minutes after they get there, after he relieves himself of his own burdens and feels the cool country air on every inch of his skin. He wonders why people have to wear clothes in the first place, why they can’t just be as they are and accept each other that way.
He’s willing to bet that Yamapi has the same thoughts. His leader’s body has become more curvaceous in his off-time, a small roll of flesh visible as he leans down to unroll his futon. Once again unaware of the unsolicited attention, of Koyama’s eyes watching him shamelessly, witnessing the usually-covered muscles expand and contract with his actions.
He thinks it’s okay to think that another man looks good, to appreciate how he takes care of himself. Just like his car, Yamapi keeps himself clean and maintained even when he doesn’t have to. Koyama feels inadequate just in his presence, his own skinny legs and flat stomach nothing compared to Yamapi’s natural beauty.
“Oof,” Yamapi says as he flops down onto his futon. “Either this futon is worn out, or there’s a lot more of me than there was the last time we were here!”
Koyama laughs. “Maybe you’re still growing?”
“Yeah, outward,” Yamapi snorts, frowning as he tries to get comfortable. “I don’t really want to ask for a new one…”
“We can try trading?” Koyama suggests. “There’s not a lot of me at all.”
They switch futons and Yamapi seems content. Koyama doesn’t notice anything odd about the one Yamapi had initially, but figures it best not to say anything.
Yamapi seems put out upon when he has to shrug into a robe for lunch. “One day I will have my own onsen,” he says to Koyama as they head down to the main dining area. “There will be no women and no clothes allowed.”
“I’d go,” Koyama says supportively.
The six of them eat lunch unhurriedly, each with no plans except to relax and enjoy their short vacation. Even Shige was prohibited from bringing any kind of schoolwork along, although Koyama suspects that some of it is stored on his phone in email form.
After they’re full, Ryo announces that he’s going to nap since he didn’t get to sleep on the way here this time, and Tegoshi automatically offers to go to the bath for a few hours to give his roommate some privacy. Massu wants to wander around outside – always one to work up the energy before winding down – and Shige decides to accompany Tegoshi. Koyama and Yamapi do as well.
Koyama slide into the warm water first, closing his eyes to the sensation and vaguely noticing the small splash next to him. Expecting Tegoshi, he smiles and mumbles “Feels good.”
“Yeah,” Yamapi’s voice replies, and Koyama’s eyes fly open. “Are you okay?”
Shige and Tegoshi seem to be bickering about something in the background, too involved to notice either of them. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”
“You just seem odd,” Yamapi replies with a shrug, leaning back against the edge next to Koyama. “If there’s something you want to talk about, I’ll listen. Okay?”
“Okay,” Koyama agrees lightly, honestly undisturbed with anything at this moment. “There’s nothing wrong though,” he adds. “I’m happy.”
“Good,” Yamapi says, then sinks down into the water until only his face is exposed. “Kei should always be happy.”
Koyama feels even warmer, and he doesn’t think it’s from the water.
It’s a lazy evening, a few of them playing cards with strangers in the common area while others sit outside to drink. Ryo plays his guitar and sings with Shige, an old Osakan lullaby that they both keep forgetting the words to as they polish off a flask of hot sake. Tegoshi drinks too much and passes out on Koyama’s shoulder, drooling a little until Massu effortlessly picks him up and takes him back to his room.
Yamapi kneels next to Koyama when the card game is over, balancing on the stairs as Koyama watches Ryo and Shige. “What’s on your mind?”
“They’ve all grown up,” Koyama replies, smiling fondly as he looks over at most of his group members in adult form.
“They’ve been grown for awhile,” Yamapi says gently. “They were grown the last time we were here.”
Koyama grunts noncommittally, letting his head fall back against the thin poles of the stairwell.
They’re silent for awhile, then Yamapi clears his throat. “Am I bothering you? You seem like you want to be left alone, and I’m not used to that.”
“Not at all,” Koyama answers, closing his eyes to the sweet music and drunken harmony mixed with Yamapi’s deep voice. “The exact opposite, actually.”
Yamapi doesn’t sound convinced. “Really?”
To prove it to him, Koyama drops to the side and rests his head on Yamapi’s shoulder. Yamapi’s arm automatically lifts to wrap around him and he smiles. “Leader still needs me.”
He can feel Yamapi’s chuckle soar down his spine. “Are you drunk, Kei?”
“Not a drop,” Koyama replies honestly. “Why?”
“Nothing,” Yamapi says quickly. “Maybe I’ve grown up too much.”
Confused, Koyama turns to look at him just in time to see his eyes dart away, his cheeks flushing pink despite the steam from the bath keeping them warm. “You’re not fat, Yamapi,” Koyama says gently. “You’re perfect.”
Yamapi opens his mouth to speak, then closes it. “That’s not what I meant at all.”
“Oh.” Koyama looks away, feeling embarrassed. He starts to sit back up, but Yamapi doesn’t let him go.
“Thank you,” Yamapi says softly. “Hearing that from you means a lot.”
Koyama actually laughs. “Like you have any reason to be insecure. Lots of people think you are good looking.”
“Not that either,” Yamapi says, seeming amused at Koyama’s constant misunderstanding. “I’m talking about what’s inside. The kind of adult I’ve become. It doesn’t matter how pretty the package is if all it contains is a pile of dirt.”
“Tomohisa,” Koyama says sternly, grabbing Yamapi’s face and staring hard into his eyes. “If you are comparing yourself to a pile of dirt, I’ll-”
He doesn’t get to finish his threat because Yamapi’s eyes fall shut as he leans in, and he gets as far as bumping Koyama’s nose before the latter instinctively jumps back and regards him with wide eyes.
Yamapi’s seem wider as he looks just as shocked as Koyama. “I’m sorry,” he says quickly, dropping his arm and scrambling to get up. “I’m so sorry.”
Koyama’s too stunned to stop him, the now out-of-tune strumming and even more off-key singing creating an atmosphere that makes Koyama’s heart pound and breathing quicken at the realization of what just (almost) happened.
He’s not surprised to discover that he’s disappointed.
“Jin, I don’t know what to do.”
A yawn greets Yamapi’s frantic admission. “Sleep with him.”
“Jin!” Yamapi hisses, keeping his voice down as he hides under the walking bridge. “I’m not you!”
Jin has the decency to laugh. “What’s so wrong with it? You let him drive your car, Pi.”
“I let you drive my car all the time,” Yamapi argues.
“Because I make you,” Jin points out. “And you sit there the whole time on edge like I’m going to intentionally drive into the side of a building or something.”
“Because you drive like an asshole,” Yamapi shoots back. “Kei is very gentle with her – you should see how he shifts-”
“Maybe you should see how he shifts,” Jin cuts him off, snorting at his own dirty joke. “And you should hear your voice right now. You sound more whipped than when Stupid Whore was leading you around by the balls.”
Yamapi has half a mind to tell Jin to stop calling Yuu that – it’s been two years already – but then something occurs to him. “She never wanted to drive,” he realizes out loud.
Jin’s laughter ceases. “Maybe that’s… that’s what you want. Someone else to drive.”
Yamapi blinks as everything seems to fall into place right before his eyes.
“I must admit, I’m a little offended,” Jin tells him. “I thought out of everyone, you’d be gay for me first.”
The scoff leaves Yamapi’s lungs before he’s fully processed the words. “I’m not gay for him,” he says defensively.
“Right, you’re just in love with him.” Jin makes a condescending noise. “Makes total sense.”
“I’m not that either!” Yamapi almost yells, then remembers where he is and lowers his voice. “Will you stop being such an ass? I called you for help, not patronization. If I wanted that, I’d go to Ryo.”
“Okay, okay,” Jin says with a sigh, pausing as a lighter clicks on his end of the line. “How do you feel right now?”
“Right now?” Yamapi repeats, staring at the road below him as he tries to sort out his thoughts. “I feel like I’m going the wrong way down a one-way street.”
“I think it’s a two-way street,” Jin tells him, sounding grateful for the metaphor. “One-way streets don’t exist in this situation.”
“They don’t?” Yamapi asks, bewildered at his own hypothetical being incorrect.
“We just keep moving forward in the same lane,” Jin goes on. “We all start off in the same direction, but then some of us turn off main path along the way.”
“This doesn’t feel like turning off the main path,” Yamapi contests. “This is a complete U-turn.”
“Then that’s what it is,” Jin says simply.
Yamapi thinks about this for awhile and Jin lets him. “These kind of U-turns are prohibited all over, Jin.”
“So what?” Jin replies carelessly. “It doesn’t matter how you get there as long as you get there, Pi. There’s a million ways to go from point A to point B, but the points are still the same.”
“You lost me,” Yamapi admits, imagining a map with a bunch of squiggly red lines. “How can you expect to get anywhere if you turn around and go the opposite way?”
He can almost hear Jin’s shrug. “Maybe point B isn’t where you want to go after all.”
Strangely, that’s the part that makes the most sense out of this whole scenario. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Maybe you should be talking to him,” Jin says pointedly. “And figure it out before you come back, will you? You’re insufferable when you’re pining.”
“I don’t know if I-” Yamapi starts.
“You will,” Jin says firmly. “Because I have his phone number, and hearing it from you will be a lot better than hearing it from me.”
The thought has Yamapi’s blood running cold. “Are you threatening me?”
“Out of love, Pi-baby,” Jin says with a laugh. “Seriously, I don’t mind that one. I think you two would be good for each other.”
“Really?” Yamapi asks hopefully.
“Oh my god, you’re like a lovesick puppy.” Jin sighs. “Go already. I’m hanging up now.”
“Jin, wait-” Yamapi starts, then continues speaking to the dial tone. “Thanks, ass.”
He stares out into the night, watching the people go by until his vision becomes unfocused. Something keeps pulling at him, just like it has for awhile, and finally he takes a deep breath and strides back towards the rooms with his head held high, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.
Part of being a leader is facing his own fears too.
The room feels so empty and cold, even after Koyama closed the windows and turned on the little heater they were given. Yamapi’s unoccupied futon may as well have been glowing for how much it was weighing on Koyama’s mind, and as he lay still he regrets setting it out for his roommate to easily fall into whenever he stumbles in from wherever he went to drink his shame away.
Koyama takes care of Yamapi no matter how stupid he is. He’s ready with a glass of water and headache medicine and Yamapi’s pajamas in the event that he wants them, drifting off to sleep until he hears the smallest creak that might be Yamapi returning to their room. He tried to mail him and ask if he was okay, tell him that Koyama’s not mad at all and they can talk about it if he wants to, but the resort was built a long time ago and doesn’t allow for much cell phone reception. Probably only near the edge of the property by the main road would one be able to get a signal.
He’s listening so hard that he hears the regular steps approaching the room and smiles; Yamapi’s not even trying to be quiet. The door flings open and Yamapi notices the light off, then looks straight at Koyama’s face. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d still be up.”
“Ryo, Massu, and Shige went to the bath,” Koyama says calmly, stretching as his body finally starts to warm up. “I didn’t want to go.”
“Kei,” Yamapi says slowly, then turns around to close the door and lowers his voice as he kneels by Koyama’s futon. “Kei, I need to tell you something.”
“Okay?” Koyama replies, a little uneasy at the intensity in Yamapi’s eyes. He certainly doesn’t look drunk.
“I was driving down the street, and I saw you pass by on the other side,” Yamapi starts, scratching the back of his head and looking at the floor next to Koyama’s head. “Suddenly the place I wanted to be was not where I was going, but where you were.”
Koyama blinks, wondering if this is some kind of safe driving question. “If the road allows it, you can make a U-turn?” he says hopefully. “Just make sure there are no other cars coming or you could cause an accident.”
“I feel like I already have,” Yamapi says, then breathes deeply.
“I don’t think I understand,” Koyama says gently.
Yamapi laughs uncomfortably. “I’m bad at this.”
“I’m sorry I pulled away,” Koyama blurts out.
A beat passes – several heartbeats – while Yamapi freezes and lifts his eyes to meet Koyama’s. “What?”
Koyama says nothing, wishing that he could cancel his last statement as he stares at the pattern on his blanket and feels Yamapi’s expectant eyes on him. He’s not sure why he’s so nervous – Yamapi was the one who tried to kiss him – but somehow the ball is in his court and he needs to figure out what to do with it.
Or, more appropriately, the keys are in his hand.
He thinks about Yamapi’s coaching during Ginza Rhapsody and how it came so naturally for him to behave like that. He remembers how it felt when Yamapi showed him how to wax his car, when he sat in the driver’s seat of Yamapi’s car, and when he was a hair’s-breath away from kissing him a little while ago.
Nobody will get anywhere if somebody doesn’t take the initiative to turn the keys in the ignition and go.
He’s leaning up on his elbow before he realizes it, then his wrist. He bravely meets Yamapi’s curious eyes and feels more determined than anything else – for his leader, who cannot do these things on his own, Koyama will be the one to step up.
Every nerve in his body is protesting as he reaches up with his free hand, takes Yamapi’s jaw in his palm and smiles when the latter automatically turns towards the touch. Koyama wonders how long it’s been since anyone’s touched him, kissed him, been intimate with him; he supposes he was wrong to assume that Yamapi was out getting girls all the time like the others – some more than the rest – and when it comes down to it, the beautiful, famous Yamapi is still young and inexperienced as to the ways of the world, particularly love.
Before he can stall any further, for Yamapi’s sake as well as his own, Koyama applies the smallest amount of pressure to Yamapi’s jaw. The little push seems to be all Yamapi needs to lean in again, and this time Koyama meets him halfway and gasps when their lips press neatly together, feeling Yamapi’s hands steady on his shoulders as Koyama kisses back. Yamapi’s the first one to pull away, staring at Koyama incredulously as his fingers rise to touch his lips.
“I don’t know why you chose me,” Koyama says seriously. “But I’ll be here for whatever you need, okay?”
“It’s not a matter of need,” Yamapi whispers, his eyes falling shut as Koyama strokes his hair. “It’s you.”
“Yamapi.” Koyama’s voice cracks a little and he realizes how dangerously close he is to crying. “I don’t understand.”
“I think I’m in love with you,” Yamapi says in his regular voice, which may as well be yelling with how quiet the night is otherwise and how close they are.
For once Koyama doesn’t think, just acts; his hand slides in Yamapi’s hair as he pulls him close and captures his mouth, swallowing his shocked noise as he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue through Yamapi’s parted lips and tilts his head to deepen their kiss. Yamapi moans low in his throat and it fuels Koyama even more, unleashing a whole flood of passion that he didn’t know he possessed until now, until Yamapi urged it to come out.
It isn’t until Yamapi’s on his back on Koyama’s futon that they feel each other’s desires and let out a simultaneous groan, then freeze at the knowledge of what is exactly happening.
“Well, that’s new,” Yamapi comments, breathing hard and making no effort to remove his arms from Koyama’s neck.
“It is,” Koyama agrees, inhaling softly as his hands rest at Yamapi’s sides, feeling the flesh squirm under his fingertips.
“Hey, while we’re on a break,” Yamapi starts, and Koyama bites his lip to keep from laughing at the incredulity of the situation, “can we move over to my futon? This one is worn out, remember, and both of our weights together isn’t helping.”
Koyama only has to stretch a little to grab Yamapi’s futon and drag it over next to his. “There.”
Yamapi actually grins, and Koyama melts a little before leaning in to kiss him again. They shift over to Yamapi’s futon and Yamapi makes a small noise of content before Koyama boldly lowers his fingers and has Yamapi throwing his head back from the sudden contact.
“Okay?” he asks quietly, curiously, swiping his fingertips across the head and feeling how different and similar it is from his own at the same time.
“Okay,” Yamapi says quickly, breathlessly, biting his lip in a way that has a surge of heat encompassing his entire body, particularly when Yamapi barely rocks his hips up in seek of Koyama’s touch.
“Okay,” Koyama mumbles, more to himself than to Yamapi as he gathers his courage and takes Yamapi completely in hand, amazed at how it feels.
“Kei,” Yamapi whispers, practically whining as he now pushes through the loose funnel of Koyama’s fingers. “Please, Kei. It feels good.”
Instead of tightening his grip, however, Koyama gets another idea and presses his lips to Yamapi’s chest, tasting his heartbeat and kissing his way down until he sees the thick erection twitching at his breath, all for him.
“Oh my god, Kei,” Yamapi gasps, lifting his head to see what’s going on and promptly letting it fall back. “You’re going to… oh my god.”
“Do you not want me to?” Koyama asks quietly, fascinated at how it twitches again with the air of his words.
“Are you kidding?” Yamapi’s voice cracks as he reaches for Koyama’s hand. As he shakily laces their fingers together, he exhales forcibly. “I’d tell you not to, but I kind of want you to.”
“Then I will,” Koyama says, then licks the wet tip experimentally.
He immediately decides that Yamapi’s resulting moan – so desperate and pleading – is something that he could never get tired of hearing. It continues as he slowly sucks the head past his lips, the bitter taste mixed with the musky scent of male creating an odd combination of senses that Koyama feels he could lose himself in. Yamapi pulses in his mouth and Koyama likes it, feels the power of making Yamapi react like this. He takes in as much as he can, which admittedly isn’t a lot but seems to be good enough for Yamapi, who’s shuddering beneath him and clawing at his sheets as Koyama brings him closer to release.
Surprisingly Yamapi is the one to stop him, reaching for his shoulders and gently pulling him up until he falls from Koyama’s mouth and can see his eyes again. “Was I doing it wrong?” Koyama asks worriedly. “I can do it better, just tell me what to do.”
Yamapi’s shaking his head before Koyama’s even done talking. “It was really good, but I don’t want to finish like that.”
“How do you…” Koyama starts, unable to say the words.
He feels Yamapi’s lips on his neck as the other’s hand reaches between his own legs. “I want to come with you.”
A shrill moan escapes his lungs as Yamapi takes him firmly in hand, although the deep, dirty words had a lot to do with it. He presses his face into the side of Yamapi’s head, vocalizing shamelessly as he urgently rolls his hips further into the tightening touch. “Tomohisa, I want you,” he says without thinking, then freezes as Yamapi’s hand stills.
“Okay,” Yamapi finally says, causing Koyama’s stomach to fall to his knees when he realizes what this means. “Don’t laugh, but there’s a tube in my bag-”
“Oh my god,” Koyama says incredulously, but reaches for Yamapi’s bag just the same.
Yamapi clearly mistakes Koyama’s mini-freak out for mocking. “Hey, it’s still in there from when we were on the road, okay. I had my own room and sometimes I felt like-”
He’s cut off by Koyama’s mouth, quickly changing focus and welcoming Koyama’s demanding tongue. The thought of Yamapi doing that to himself has Koyama gently grinding against him, eliciting a few whines from the latter as their cocks rub together and Koyama forces air through his nose. He’s not entirely sure what he’s doing, only where he wants to be – where Yamapi wants him to be – and what he has to do to get there.
More of the substance ends up on the sheets than Koyama’s fingers, which shake as he guides them between Yamapi’s legs that willingly spread for him. Yamapi’s clutching onto him, bracing himself, mouth poised at Koyama’s ear whispering encouragingly. “Come on, you can do it. I know you can do it.”
The next thing he knows, he has a finger inside him and hisses at how tight it is. He didn’t think he was big at all until he thought about trying to put it where his finger is now. He moves it around until he can squeeze in another, then has the idea to do what he does to girls and bend his knuckles a little.
Yamapi’s resulting arch nearly scares him out of his skin, at least until he realizes that he did something good and resorted his leader to silent screams. His mouth open, his eyes squeezed shut as Koyama continues moving his fingers just like that and finds himself whispering things he would never say in the daylight. “Open up for me, Tomohisa. I want to feel you inside.”
Like his voice were the key, Yamapi lets out a soft moan and relaxes, leading Koyama to slip in a third finger and kiss every inch of Yamapi’s neck he can reach in preparation for what they’re about to do. Every time Koyama starts to freak out about it, Yamapi’s body tightens around his fingers like it’s a protest, and then all Koyama can think about is how that will feel around his cock. The promising suffocation has him panting against Yamapi’s skin, almost as much as Yamapi himself until finally Yamapi whispers “now” and Koyama immediately withdraws, strokes more of the lube onto himself, and settles between Yamapi’s legs.
“I love you too,” Koyama says, realizing its truth as he speaks the words.
Yamapi reaches up to cup Koyama’s face, gently massaging his jaw with his thumb. “Show me.”
Instantly he’s inside him, Koyama sinking into Yamapi’s body much like he’d sunk into the leather driver’s seat of Yamapi’s car the day before. It feels much different, though, the way Yamapi’s body accepts him and protests at the same time. It’s nothing like fucking a girl, and after this Koyama doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to be with a girl again. It’s hot and tight and so vulgar in its own right, especially the position Yamapi’s in – knees pulled up to his chest and thighs spread at the right level for Koyama to kneel and thrust inside. It’ll be enough for him to get off to from now on, even enough to make him hard just from the thought.
“Move,” Yamapi hisses, rocking his hips just enough to make Koyama moan from the impact. “Kei, please.”
It takes a lot of effort – mostly to keep from finishing so soon – but Koyama manages to pull back and push back in, exhaling harshly as Yamapi’s body gets used to him and appears to mold itself to the shape of his cock. He feels his eyes cross at the sensation, arms sliding up Yamapi’s torso to wrap around his shoulders, needing the support in order to keep going. Yamapi’s hands slip down to Koyama’s ass, digging his fingers into the flesh as he urges Koyama to thrust harder, more sharply, enough to make them both moan with no restrictions at the new angle.
“Tomo-chan,” Koyama manages to sputter. “Are you ready? Because I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”
“All you have to do is touch me and I’ll come,” Yamapi says in a strained voice, his hands rising to grab onto Koyama’s arms.
Koyama moans in response, rolling his hips faster and deeper as he grasps for Yamapi’s cock, feeling himself start to fall over the edge as Yamapi convulses beneath him and cries out his name, pulling Koyama under with him until the tension leaves his body and he can breathe properly again.
He feels like he’s about to pass out, somewhere between reality and unconsciousness where Yamapi’s rubbing his back and kissing his face.
“Amazing,” Yamapi’s whispering. “We’re doing that again.”
Koyama’s smiling as he comes to completely, blindly seeking out Yamapi’s lips and sighing happily when he finds them. “Are you okay?”
“Mm, little sore,” Yamapi admits, “but I’ll be okay.”
Heavy with sleep, Koyama manages to grab some tissues to clean them up before laying down right where he is and utilizing Yamapi as a pillow. “Is it okay to sleep like this?”
“Kei,” Yamapi says slowly, still catching his breath. “Anything you want is okay.”
Koyama falls asleep with a smile on his face.
Tegoshi’s hangovers are equivalent to the world ending, at least as far as anyone in NewS is concerned. He’s whiny and crabby and does not understand why he can’t ride in the open car with Koyama and Yamapi on the way home.
Koyama has a pretty good idea why, but he’s not saying a word. It’s already bad enough that Yamapi keeps cringing with every step and insists on using Koyama as a crutch.
“Tegoshi,” Shige says firmly. “Yamapi doesn’t want you getting sick in his car.”
“I don’t want him getting sick in my car either!” Ryo exclaims.
Shige gives him A Look, which involves a very obvious glance over to Koyama and Yamapi.
Koyama briefly wonders why people in this group bother keeping secrets.
“You can sit in the front seat and listen to whatever you want,” Ryo says in a sing-song voice to Tegoshi. “Or I can make Shige drive and you can sit in the back with me.”
Shige gasps and fixes Ryo with an incredulous expression.
The youngest makes a face at the harsh sunlight, then leans towards Ryo’s outstretched arms. “Shige drives.”
Ignoring his shocked face, Ryo tosses Shige his keys. “You scratch it, I kill you.”
Massu claps Shige comfortingly on the back as he situates himself in the front seat of Ryo’s car, checking his seat belt one too many times for Koyama’s taste.
After getting Tegoshi settled in the backseat, Ryo walks over to Koyama and Yamapi. “I’m not going to stand here and pretend I don’t know anything,” he says sternly, but there’s hurt in his eyes. “I don’t think anyone who wasn’t passed out drunk last night would be able to.”
“Kei and I are together,” Yamapi says bluntly, squeezing Koyama’s hand as the latter feels his face turning beet red.
“Together,” Ryo repeats cynically. “Really? Kei?”
Koyama nods. “I love him.”
Yamapi leans over and kisses his cheek. “I love you too.”
Ryo looks nauseous, although Koyama thinks it’s more about the ‘L’ word than who they are. “Well, if that’s the case… take care of him, Kei.”
“I will,” Koyama replies automatically, looking surprised as Ryo nods and returns to his car.
“He worries about me,” Yamapi tells him, looking fondly past Koyama as Ryo drives away. “Did you think you were the only one?”
Laughing, Koyama turns to look at Yamapi’s shiny car. “So… who’s driving?”
A ring of keys is placed in his palm, and Yamapi’s lips are by his ear. “She likes it better when you drive.”