JE, Kakkoii Otona ni Natteru (Turning Into Cool Adults)

Title: Kakkoii Otona ni Natteru [Shoon, Hikaru, Yabu]
Rating/Warnings: PG for how Yabu looks in that white costume.
Summary: Hikaru and Yabu are guests on Shounen Club, and do far different dances than the last time Shoon saw those exact same choreographies.
AN: Plainly this is influenced by Yabu and Hikaru’s solos on Shokura this week, in particular Angel Come To Me, which couldn’t be a more different song than it used to be if they just gave him a whole new song. Someday, maybe, I’ll be able to watch all of them without seeing their tiny bowlcut versions in my head, but if that ever happens I’m not sure whether I’ll be happy or sad.

This is the duet of “Kuroi Asa Shiroi Yoru” that Shoon mentions. It’s worth seeing.

Kakkoii Otona ni Natteru (Turning into Cool Adults)

When Shoon sees the line-up posted for the October Shounen Club filming, he can’t help but laugh at little at the words “Angel Come to Me” typed beside Yabu’s name.

Nakamaru strolls by at that moment, and pauses to see what Shoon’s laughing at. His face softens a bit and he claps Shoon on the shoulder.

“It’ll be good to have them on again, won’t it?” Nakamaru says, and his eyes are approving when Shoon agrees without a second thought, feeling nothing but happiness.

“But ‘Angel Come to Me?’” Shoon asks, and he laughs again. “I haven’t thought about that song in years. Does Yabu know about this? Who on earth picked it? The lyrics are all terrible, especially since he learned them all phonetically, and the dance is so silly.”

Koyama strolls by, humming “Private Hearts,” and catches Nakamaru’s eye for a moment, unnoticed by Shoon.

“You never know,” Nakamaru says thoughtfully, then smiles when Shoon tilts his head back to see Nakamaru’s face. “Sometimes those old songs surprise you with how they can change.”

Shoon blinks, even more confused. “They won’t have time to redo the dance, though, will they?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Nakamaru gives Shoon’s shoulder a last squeeze and moves off to go back to work, tossing a “You’ll see,” back over his shoulder as he leaves.

And Shoon does see, days later at the filming, when Yabu is on-stage and Shoon is in the wings, chest tight with how it’s not at all the same song as he remembers.

Shoon isn’t surprised when arms drape over his shoulder, making Shoon grunt with the sudden weight, and a pointy chin digs into the side of his head.

“Why’s he look so good doing that,” Hikaru grumbles without any heat. “Jerk.”

“You looked good too,” Shoon reassures, raising a hand to pat one of Hikaru’s arms. “It’s just not such a shock when you do it, because you always kind of looked like that.”

“Oh yeah, man I was hot with a bowl cut.” Hikaru mimes the flattened American accent Akanishi-kun uses when pretty girls go by. “SEKUSHII.”

Shoon pats Hikaru’s arm again, then lets his hand rest there, and they stand in silence for a few more seconds, both of them watching the flare of Yabu’s coat and the impossible stretch of his legs.

“You’re thinking about something,” Hikaru says. “How can you even think when he’s doing something that looks like that?”

“I was thinking,” Shoon murmurs, “about that time the two of you did ‘Kuroi Asa Shiroi Yoru’ as a duet. Do you remember?”

“That was…” Hikaru’s voice trails off, and his breath huffs, stirring Shoon’s hair. “When was that?”

“Who can remember? We did so many lives back then.” Shoon shrugs carelessly, lightly enough not to dislodge Hikaru. “It was my favorite solo of yours, but when the two of you did it together…even back then, you looked like this.”

“You always knew, didn’t you?” Hikaru’s grip on Shoon tightens, and Shoon’s heart trips at how grown-up Hikaru’s voice sounds when there isn’t any tease in it. “About him?”

“Mm.” Shoon lets his eyes unfocus, and in the shimmer of the stage lights, he can see another Yabu overlaid on the Yabu in front of him, one with shorter arms and a sillier costume, but they have the same face, and when Yabu’s gaze turns their way in due course of the song, the light in their eyes is the same too. “About both of you.”

“He knows you’re watching him,” Hikaru says, tease back, the moment past, and Shoon lets it go freely, like the others.

“That’s how the dance always went,” Shoon argues, but he smiles.

“That dance never went like this,” Hikaru grumbles, and Shoon hums an agreement.

It seems that Hikaru is right about Yabu knowing they’re watching, because after the lights come down, he makes his stage-exit on their side and screeches to a halt in front of them, stage-high and chest heaving.

Shoon has to tilt his head back against Hikaru’s chin to look Yabu in the eye, and wishes they had more than a few seconds, wishes he could keep this Yabu for longer, this bright hot slick Yabu who throws arms around them both and gathers them in tight. Shoon’s breath is squeezed from his throat in a gasp and he’s glad, so glad that Yabu has grown up so that his arms are long enough to do it.

“Shoon says our solos suck,” Hikaru says, reminding them their few seconds are over, “and that we should go back to doing duets.”

“Shoon always did know about us,” Yabu agrees, and his lips brush Shoon’s hair as he pulls back, grown up enough to let them go as well.

“Maa,” Koyama-kun says to Shoon when he passes by, voice sad, “Yabu-kun and Hikaru-kun really grew up, didn’t they?”

“Un,” Shoon agrees without a second thought, feeling nothing but happiness. “Thank goodness.”