Mousapelli’s Fanfiction » 26 JE Birthday Kisses, It Falls Right Into Place

26 JE Birthday Kisses, It Falls Right Into Place

Title: Kiss Two: It Falls Right Into Place [Shige/Koyama]
Rating/Warnings: PG because Ryo and Tego play scary games.
Summary: Shige has one of those tests coming up. Koyama works hard.
AN: For 26 Birthday Kisses, Kiss Two: Good Luck Kiss.

Kiss Two: It Falls Right Into Place

Shige has one of those tests coming up. The kind where he’s edged with panic and sleeplessness for days, where any break at all on-set means that Shige whips a book out and flips pages at a speed that makes Koyama’s head hurt just thinking about it.

Koyama does his best to help Shige out in small gestures: he makes a lot of tea, purposely attracts Ryo’s attention to take the brunt of his sharp tongue, and gently deflects Tegoshi towards Yamapi because Shige’s lap is too full of books for Tego to sit in anyhow.

And even if Shige is too busy to say thank you or even notice, Koyama doesn’t mind. That’s what member-ai is for, after all. That’s what best friends are for, and Koyama knows that Shige would do the same for him.

“Kei-chan has a lot of faith in Shige,” Masuda comments when Koyama takes him out for the ramen Shige had promised before the panic had set in in earnest.

Koyama isn’t sure whether Massu means faith that Shige will do well or that Shige will at some point make it up to him, but either way Koyama announces, “Yup!” without hesitation and pushes the rest of his ramen towards Massu.

The others try to help in their own ways, of course. Massu brings Shige snacks with purported side-effects ranging from energy to doubling his brain-size. Yamapi sings Shige a song about working hard. Ryo and Tego roleplay Shige and his professor in order to demonstrate proper test success victory dances.

They’re all nice gestures, even if Massu’s snacks make Shige’s hands shake and Yamapi’s lyrics were almost certainly written by Jin. Shige endures them all patiently, staring with ringed and vacant eyes until they seem to be finished and he can bury his head back in his books.

But Koyama knows, as Shige’s best friend, that all Shige really wants is some peace and quiet, and for it all to be over. He can’t do anything about the one thing, but he does his best to secure the others, no matter how often he has to volunteer to listen to Leader’s new and improved song, or how much ramen he has to buy Massu, or what sort of strange games he lets Ryo and Tego talk him into.

He hopes Tackey-senpai didn’t need those boas back for anything.

At long last the day of the test arrives. They have an early photoshoot, of course, but in Koyama’s experience it’s best to keep Shige busy immediately before the test anyway.

Usually. Today, the director puts up with Shige’s decreasingly subtle studying for far longer than Koyama would have believed before finally snapping that law textbooks were not a suitable prop for the concept “Feudal Era Disco Fever.”

“I’ll take care of it, ne,” Koyama says, stepping immediately in between the photographer and a thunderous-looking Shige, and then he puts his hands on Shige’s shoulders and gently pushes him off the set, into the little nook between the backdrop and the wall, where no one is likely to see them.

Shige is still looking mutinous and clutching his book to his chest so tightly that his knuckles are white. Koyama reaches out and gets his own hands on the book before tugging. Shige resists at first, but Koyama is firm, and eventually he wins by planting the pointy heel of his boot right in the middle of Shige’s foot.

“You’ve studied enough,” Koyama says when Shige lunges to grab the book back. He tucks the book against his chest with one hand and uses the other to keep Shige a few inches back, just far enough to prevent his flail from making any contact.

“Butâ€¦” Shige starts. Koyama cuts him off by leaning in to press his lips against Shige’s, warm and reassuring.

When he pulls back, Shige’s shoulders have lost just a little of their tension, and Koyama smiles. “For luck. But Shige is smart, ne? You won’t need it.”

“Thanks. But maybe,” Shige clears his throat, “maybe you should try it again, just to make sure it takes?”

Koyama laughs and complies, because it’s the little gestures he’s good at and he doesn’t mind at all, and he wishes Shige luck until the photographer’s sharp voice echoes off the back wall, demanding to know where they are.