JE, We’ve Been Waiting, Going On

Title: We’ve Been Waiting, Going On [Goseki/Tamamori]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 for Inter-unit dating.
Summary: Goseki watches Tamamori grow up, but he still doesn’t quite see what Tamamori is showing him.
AN: For liangzhu for the 2009 JE Fuh-Q Fest. I hope you enjoy it! I had a surprisingly good time writing it. Thanks to both of my betas.

We’ve Been Waiting, Going On

We are Daybreaker, things like a reason aren’t needed
Until we burn out, we’re taking as much as we can
Facing the unbroken sky that goes until wherever
We’re opening up the future

–“Daybreaker,” A.B.C.-Z/Kis-My-Ft2 First Concert, 2008

The first time Goseki notices Tamamori, it’s only because Tamamori is a member of A.B.C.’s inexplicably-named junior counterpart, and Goseki has come along with Kawai to check them out. He tags along more out of amusement than because he has any particular interest in anybody young enough to be smaller than they are.

He hasn’t been in the practice room more than thirty seconds when one of the A.B.C. Jr. members runs right into him.

“Oof!” the junior says, bouncing off and landing on his butt. Goseki blinks down at him, and the junior scrambles to his feet, face bright red. “I’m so sorry, senpai!” he says in a rush. “Nika shoved me!”

Goseki follows the kid’s glare off to the side and finds another tiny junior with a far larger smirk giving them a little wave. Goseki remembers him from around Ya-Ya-Yah’s television show, vaguely, usually making some kind of trouble with that Yaotome kid.

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Kawai says before Goseki can even get his mouth open, reaching over to manhandle the junior cheerfully in the guise of checking him for injury. “Ne, you’re Tamamori-kun, right?”

“Yes.” Tamamori bobs his head in a flustered bow and stares at the floor. “Please take care of me.”

Tamamori’s bowl cut makes his head perfectly round, and Goseki gives in easily to his awkward charm. “Nice to meet you, Tamamori-kun. I’m Goseki-kun. Please support A.B.C. by working hard, okay?”

“Okay.” Tamamori lifts his gaze up to meet Goseki’s finally, and Goseki nearly grunts out loud from the force of the adorable striking his retinas.

A few weeks later when they give Tamamori a decent haircut, Goseki learns that Tamamori’s head is perfectly round and adorable all on its own, and when Tamamori shyly asks him to call him ‘Tama-chan’ instead, Goseki agrees practically before he’s even finished speaking.

*****

It’s kind of a shame that A.B.C. Jr. gets absorbed into Kis-My-Ft instead of their namesake group, Goseki thinks, but then again he’s happy with his unit the way it is. Serves Fujigaya right that he has to baby-sit after trying to collect all the hot senpai for himself. Plus, it’s really entertaining to watch the kouhai try to learn to skate.

“Ow~!” wails Senga, the littlest one as he spills to the ground again, and Goseki snickers when Kitayama goes to help Senga up, only to find himself on the business end of Nikaido’s glare. But they both turn to Senga when Senga realizes that his sweatpants are torn, his knee bleeding, and starts to sniffle.

On the other side of the room, Yokoo and Iida are trying to teach Miyata to spin, a punishment worthy of Ninomiya-senpai himself, and Goseki is so amused that for a minute he doesn’t realize that they are one A.B.C. Jr. member short of a Kis-My-Ft2.

Scanning the room again and still not seeing anyone extra, Goseki slips back out of the practice room and glances around the hallway. He has to go around the corner before he does find Tamamori, sitting on the ground with his knees clutched to his chest and his skates in a heap next to him.

“Tama-chan?” Goseki asks, softly, but Tamamori jumps anyway, looking up and then back down guiltily when he sees who it is. “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Tamamori says, voice tight, and hugs his knees harder. His legs and arms are all too long and too thin, these days, and they don’t seem to do what Tamamori wants them too very often. Goseki comes over to sit on the floor next to Tamamori, picking up Tamamori’s skates to make room.

“Really?” he prompts. “Because they’re trying to teach Miyata to spin, and you’re missing all the fun. You’ll need this kind of blackmail material when you’re all famous idols and Miyata tries to steal your MCs and things.”

“My shins hurt,” Tamamori mumbles, looking if anything more miserable at Goseki’s attempt to make him laugh.

Goseki nods sympathetically. “Growth spurt? That’s normal.”

“I know, they said.” Tamamori stares across the hallway at nothing. “Goseki-kun, I don’t think I can do it.”

“Do what?” Goseki asks. He gives the wheel of one of the skates in his hands a flick, making it whir. “Skate?”

Tamamori nods, then shakes his head. “Skate. Dance. Keep up. I’m not…” Tamamori gropes around for a word, then shrugs. “I’m not like them. I’m too weird.”

“Everyone’s weird at your age, Tama-chan,” Goseki assures, setting the skates off to the side and wrapping an arm around Tamamori’s shoulder. “And I don’t think being normal is something you’ll have to worry about seeing too much of in your current unit. Have you seen Fujigaya’s hair? And that Senga kid can’t even dress himself.”

Tamamori cracks a tiny smile, and Goseki pokes him in the cheek.

“It’ll pass,” Goseki says, and then he stands up and holds out a hand to Tamamori. “But let’s just worry about the skating first, hm?”

“Can we just sit here for another minute?” Tamamori asks, staring at the floor again.

Goseki says that it’s fine, and reaches down to rub Tamamori’s shin, letting the heat from his hand sink into Tamamori’s skin and ease some of the ache. After a minute, Tamamori lets his head rest against Goseki’s shoulder, and they stay like that until Miyata stomps out into the hallway to have his own breakdown.

*****

Time goes by strangely in the Jimusho, and it seems like no time at all in between when the four youngest go from being the cute kouhai to being equals. Goseki blames it mainly on Kitayama’s completely fail leadership, and also on the fact that there’s never a point when Fujigaya doesn’t say “Mm, I could just eat them up,” while Kawai agrees sagely. The words don’t ever change, there’s just a slight shift in inflection.

Tamamori in particular seems to change overnight from being sort of endearingly awkward to being just this side of illegal, leaving Goseki squinting in bewilderment over what exactly has changed. He takes comfort in the fact that at least Tamamori still talks to his lunch, and everything else, the weirdness of which still lets Goseki think of him as a cute little brother, instead of a…something else.

More disconcerting, somebody seems to have taught Tamamori to smirk and what to do with his ten-mile legs all of a sudden. Goseki would put his money on Fujigaya or Nikaido, but then Miyata starts dancing like he knows how, and Goseki doesn’t know what to think any more.

Not that he can think at all when Tamamori catches him watching again and gives him a little smile over his shoulder. Goseki shakes himself and looks away, trying to not to notice how Tamamori’s smiles are turning from shy to interested.

When Tamamori tilts his head and asks what Goseki-kun thinks of his new piercing, Goseki forgets how to breathe.

*****

After Takizawa finally finishes the endless rounds of decisions for his secret project, Goseki is proud that Tsukada got picked to represent A.B.C., that all Tsukada’s hard work has finally paid off in some personal attention (even if that attention is from Yara and Takizawa, both of whose interests are questionable at the best of times).

Goseki is less thrilled, on the other hand, when Takizawa also pulls Kawai and Totsuka for Enbujou, something they’ve always done together, and suddenly Goseki is the only one not good enough for an extracurricular activity. Goseki tries not to think of Osaka as a sort of punishment game for failing Takizawa’s most recent popularity contest. He tries to enjoy the show they are doing with everyone else and the evenings they spend gathered in Kisumai’s hotel room.

Everything’s fine, he answers Fujigaya’s mail one of those evenings. He’s trying to concentrate on the mail and not on how warm Tamamori is, stretched out next to Goseki on Senga’s tiny hotel bed.

“Ne,” Tamamori says, and he nudges Goseki’s shoulder with his own, “Gocchi doesn’t like Osaka much, right?”

Goseki glares at his phone as he sends his mail. Apparently he hasn’t been fooling everybody as much as he’d thought. Tamamori pulls the phone out of his hand and fiddles around with it for a few seconds, sending Fujigaya a mail of his own.

“Sure I do,” Goseki says, keeping his voice even. Lacking his phone, he focuses instead on the squabble Nikaido and Senga are having over a bag of chips, which is the fakest excuse to touch each other a lot in the whole world.

Subtlety, Goseki thinks, that’s the difference between Kis-My-Ft2 and A.B.C.

Tamamori drops the phone back into Goseki’s hands, startling him, and Goseki frowns as he realizes that his wallpaper is now a picture of Tamamori flashing a cute little V. Tamamori leans closer, so that his breath brushes warm over Goseki’s ear as he says, “Let’s go to your room.”

Subtlety’s for losers, Goseki amends as he lets Tamamori tug him up by the wrist and lead him from the room without so much as giving even a fake excuse to the others. Not that anybody seems to notice, other than Yokoo raising an eyebrow at Goseki just before he pulls the door shut behind them.

“It’s not that I don’t like being here with you all,” Goseki tries again as they go down the hall several doors to his own. Tamamori just hums, stopping at Goseki and Tsukada’s room and waiting for him to pull out his key. “I’m really enjoying the show, and…”

“I’m glad Tackey-senpai didn’t pick Goseki-kun,” Tamamori interrupts, making Goseki pause as he pushes the door open, enough that Tamamori can push him into the room and shut the door behind them. “Because then Goseki-kun wouldn’t have a hotel room in Osaka.”

“Tama-chan,” Goseki murmurs in mild protest, before Tamamori leans down to cover Goseki’s mouth with his own.

Tamamori’s kiss is soft at first, until he gets his bearings and presses in a little more tightly, vaguely unpracticed as though he might have done this before with somebody else, but not too many somebody elses. The thought makes heat trickle through Goseki’s veins, before his brain catches up a little and sends a healthy dose of guilt after it.

Pushing Tamamori back a half-step, Goseki tries to pull a deep breath. “Tama-chan, are you…”

“I like you,” Tamamori says plainly, making Goseki blink up at him. He steps back in, so that their bodies are pressed together in a warm line from knee to chest. “Goseki-kun thinks I’m cute, right? You watch me a lot, you know.”

“Yeah,” Goseki agrees, and he’d probably be blushing if long exposure to Kawai and Fujigaya hadn’t burned the response out of him. “But you aren’t…”

“I’m legal enough,” Tamamori shrugs, as if that’s the only problem, but then he’s kissing Goseki again, and Goseki forgets what all his other concerns are. Instead he thinks about Tamamori’s fingers in his hair and Tamamori’s other hand creeping under the hem of his T-shirt. He raises one hand to trail fingers along the soft skin on the inside of Tamamori’s bicep, and Tamamori gives a quiet moan into his mouth that short-circuits any other thoughts Goseki might have had for the next two weeks.

Tamamori tugs Goseki towards one of the beds, and Goseki dimly hopes it’s his as they fall on it. Tamamori rolls so that Goseki’s weight is pressing him into the blankets. In this position it doesn’t matter that Tamamori is a good head taller than Goseki, and Tamamori likes it that way, if the way he pulls Goseki down tighter against him is any indication. He pushes Goseki’s shirt out of the way and digs fingers into the small of his back, and when he rocks up, Goseki can’t stop the moan that spills out of his own mouth.

He rolls off Tamamori, so that they’re both on their sides, but pauses when Tamamori pushes Goseki’s hand down. He catches Tamamori’s wrist and waits until Tamamori opens his eyes to ask, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“I like you,” Tamamori repeats, blinking slowly at Goseki with his dark brown eyes.

“Okay,” Goseki gives in, and lets Tamamori tug his hand down until Goseki’s fingers are sliding under Tamamori’s waistband.

They don’t get any technical points for that first time, both of them only getting their pants far enough out of the way for them to wrap their hands around each other’s cocks. Goseki gets distracted by the feel of Tamamori in his hand, hot and smooth, slender like the rest of his limbs. He explores the texture and the ridges of Tamamori’s cock with his fingers, ignoring Tamamori’s gasp to wait, and hums at the pulse of Tamamori coming over his fingers only a minute or two later.

“Sorry,” Tamamori mumbles hazily after a second, his hand wrapped loosely around Goseki’s cock but not really going anywhere. “I really like you…”

“I get it, I get it,” Goseki interrupts, wrapping his hand around Tamamori’s, slick with Tamamori’s release, and teaching Tamamori the way he likes to stroke himself. Tamamori’s a quick learner, or at least a cooperative one, and Goseki lets himself be pushed over the edge easily, muffling his groan against Tamamori’s mouth.

After he’s caught his breath, Goseki reaches over the edge of the bed to grab the towel still on the floor from his shower and cleans them both off. Tamamori’s already yawning, and he snuggles close as soon as Goseki starts moving around, one long arm thrown lazily over Goseki’s chest.

He’s already thinking about how he ought to force Tamamori to get up, to go back to his own room before Tsukada comes back and he has to explain what they’re doing on Tsukada’s bed. But he hasn’t quite got around to opening his mouth yet when Tamamori stirs.

“I’d have picked Goseki-kun for my show,” Tamamori says sleepily.

Goseki curls an arm around Tamamori’s waist and lets his eyes fall shut like they want to. Tsukada usually stays up late talking to Yokoo; they’ll get up in a little while.

*****

Tamamori keeps Goseki busy for the rest of their time in Osaka, improving Goseki’s outlook on the situation quite a bit. Although he still feels twinges of guilt about it, especially when he gets mails from Fujigaya (Mitsu says to make sure Nika isn’t doing things to Ken-chan), the guilt gets easier to ignore as Tamamori collects confidence and Goseki collects a surprising amount of Tamamori’s firsts.

The first time Goseki goes down on Tamamori, Tamamori’s eyes are the size of 500 yen coins, right before he squeezes them shut and gives a startled moan that makes Goseki hope their neighbors aren’t in their rooms. Goseki is worried that maybe he’s gone a bit far, right up until Tamamori struggles to a sitting position and asks breathlessly if he can try that too.

Teaching somebody about sex, Goseki learns, is a turn-on all of its own. If Tamamori’s first blowjob is awkward and messy, Tamamori more than makes up for it with enthusiasm, and also with the fact that he talks just as much during sex as during anything else. Sometimes it’s to ask questions which are surely innocent but sound dirty as hell (“Ne, Goseki-kun, what’ll happen if I use my mouth here?”). Other times it’s just because Tamamori has always talked to inanimate objects, and Goseki’s just never noticed the appeal of that until now.

And also, by far the best benefit in Goseki’s opinion, is that Tamamori, who has always been a bit socially KY, has absolutely no idea what he is and isn’t supposed to do. Which means that when Goseki yanks Tamamori up from his cock for a kiss and moans at the taste of himself on Tamamori’s tongue, Tamamori not only doesn’t protest, but kisses him back fiercely, until it’s impossible to tell which of them tastes of what. And when Goseki’s mouth trails a bit farther south than it probably ought to during his return of the favor, Tamamori doesn’t have any arguments about that either.

So it’s maybe his fault when Tamamori suggests that they ought to progress a little further. When that fails to get him his way, Tamamori ceases to suggest.

“I want you to fuck me,” Tamamori says bluntly, and Goseki inhales half of his energy jelly.

“What?!” he demands in between coughs and gasps of air, trying to glance around through his tearing eyes to see if anybody else heard that. Fortunately the others all seem distracted by the fact that Senga is wearing half of Miyata’s costume and half of Tsukada’s.

“I’m not even in your unit!” Tsukada exclaims in horrified fascination, while Nikaido and Yokoo strip Senga with an efficiency born of long experience, and Nikaido demands icily if those boxers don’t actually belong to Fujigaya.

“You heard me,” Tamamori says, thumping Goseki’s back until the coughing subsides. “It’s our last night in Osaka, so we should do something memorable.”

“That’s not—I’m not—” Goseki starts, but gets interrupted by a staff member coming in to give them the ten-minute warning, and Tamamori stands up and dusts off his costume before strolling off as though Goseki isn’t still spluttering.

Tamamori might look guileless, but Goseki knows that it’s Tamamori’s insidious plan to mention something like that right before a show so that Goseki has no choice but to think about it the entire performance. And that’s exactly what Goseki does think about—every second that he’s watching Tamamori dance, he can’t keep from imagining Tamamori’s long legs wrapped around his waist, half out of his Dream Boys costume, skin flushed and beading with sweat.

“Ne, Koki’s Boot Camp is fun, right? My flexibility has definitely increased,” Goseki overhears Tamamori say casually to Miyata, and that’s the last straw.

“All right, all right,” he grumbles in an undertone to Tamamori when they are changing after the show. “Come to my room later. But I don’t have anything.”

“No problem,” Tamamori hums with a pleased grin, and he gives Goseki a low-lidded glance that makes Goseki’s stomach flip over. Just then Nikaido calls over if Tamamori’s coming to the showers with him like he promised or what, and Tamamori trots off with a wink.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” Tsukada asks Goseki, raising an eyebrow. His voice is low enough that nobody else changing will overhear. Tsukada isn’t accusatory, just concerned. “Really, do you? Because you aren’t being subtle, exactly.”

“Not so much,” Goseki admits, wishing that Tsukada would just yell at him instead, like Fujigaya and Kawai would if they were here. But they aren’t here, the dark, ugly part of Goseki’s heart reminds him, and that’s when Goseki gets fed up and shoves all the thoughts away, determined not to think about anything and to enjoy the rest of his stay in Osaka.

After dinner, Tamamori shows up at Goseki’s door in a flimsy tank top that shows off the way he’s been filling out lately. He holds up a strip of condoms and a small tube of banana-flavored lubricant, and Goseki does not in any way want to know how he acquired them. He just orders Tamamori to get in the room already, not to wave around condoms in the hallway like a moron.

“Goseki-kun seems a bit S tonight,” Tamamori comments casually as he drops the supplies on the nightstand and sprawls across Goseki’s bed. His bangs fall across his eyes and Tamamori smiles up at Goseki from underneath them. “I like that kind of Goseki-kun too.”

“Will you stop calling me that?” Goseki demands, nettled by nothing in particular and everything at once. “It’s Koichi, and take off your clothes.”

Tamamori moves to comply immediately, more than willing to follow orders. Goseki just watches at first, running his eyes over each new piece of skin as Tamamori reveals it, gaze catching on the stretch of his legs and the glint of his piercings. When Tamamori is naked, he leans back against the pillows, head tilted, and waits patiently for further direction.

Figuring he can put on a show just as easily, Goseki tugs his shirt over his head, more deliberately than is strictly necessary, and when he can see again, he notices with satisfaction the way Tamamori’s eyes are dark and focused only on him. He hooks his thumbs in his jeans and pushes them down with the same sort of deliberation, watching Tamamori track his movement, then crawls onto the bed.

He looms above Tamamori on his hands and knees for a few moments, and Tamamori stays where he is, before Goseki leans down to brush lips along Tamamori’s neck. Tamamori lets him do as he will as Goseki trails his mouth along Tamamori’s collar bones and shoulders, sucking on the sensitive spots he’s learned, but still Tamamori doesn’t move, other than the quickening rise and fall of his chest.

“Touch me,” Goseki growls against Tamamori’s skin, and finally Tamamori’s hands come up to dig into Goseki’s back, urging him closer. “Talk.”

“Goseki-kun likes it when I talk?” Tamamori asks, clearly teasing since he knows that Goseki does. Goseki growls again and bites down a little harder than he should, and Tamamori laughs breathlessly, then amends, “Koichi likes it when I talk.”

“Hmm.” Goseki licks the spot he just bit, momentarily appeased, and moves onto torment a new patch of skin, the low purr of Tamamori’s voice making shivers work down his spine.

“It’s been a while~,” Tamamori says when he brushes fingers against Goseki’s cock. Tamamori laughs at the way Goseki’s cock jumps, and Goseki growls and bites down hard enough to make Tamamori moan.

Goseki takes his time, exploring Tamamori’s skin with his mouth and hands, driving both of them a little crazy. Maybe he’s a touch nervous himself, or maybe he doesn’t want to rush this for Tamamori, and it’s an added bonus when Tamamori’s words turn pleading.

“Please, come on already,” Tamamori finally begs, trying to rock his hips up against Goseki and getting nowhere because Goseki is holding him down with both hands. “Don’t tease anymore, Koichi, please?”

Tamamori is tight and hot around Goseki’s fingers, the squeeze of it making Goseki wonder exactly how long he stands a chance of lasting, especially when Tamamori moans and pushes down against his fingers. It’s not until Goseki starts working in a third finger that Tamamori winces, but then he finds Goseki’s free hand with his own and laces their fingers together. Goseki leans down to wrap his mouth around Tamamori’s cock, working him back to full hardness and making him forget the sting of it.

“I’m ready,” Tamamori insists a couple breaths later, steeling his expression when Goseki lifts his head to eye him with a sort of unspoken Oh really? “I am, I want you, now.”

“Tama-chan…” Goseki starts, but Tamamori cuts him off.

“Yuuta,” he says, hitching himself up on his elbows to see better. “It’s Yuuta. Fuck me, please?”

“Okay, okay.” Goseki frees both of his hands from Tamamori’s grip and grabs the strip of condoms off the table to tear one off. Tamamori doesn’t move to help, only watches as Goseki rolls the condom on and spreads more lube on himself and then Tamamori in turn, although Tamamori does hiss a little at the coldness of it before Goseki’s fingers have a chance to warm it.

Sliding inside of Tamamori is dozens of times better than Goseki imagined that it would be, despite how active Goseki’s imagination has been recently. It’s good enough that Goseki has to stop part of the way in and take a couple deep breaths, trying hard to ignore the way Tamamori is clinging tightly to him and trembling all over.

“Shh, it’s fine,” he encourages, willing his own voice not to shake, but when he lifts his head a little to see Tamamori’s face, he realizes Tamamori’s trembling isn’t what he thought it was.

“Feels good,” Tamamori murmurs, eyes low-lidded, he pushes up against Goseki just like he’d pushed against Goseki’s fingers. “More.”

Goseki complies, and when he’s as far in as he can be, he lets his weight rest on his elbows and leans down to find Tamamori’s mouth with his own. He can feel Tamamori’s hands on his waist, Tamamori’s cock hard between their stomachs, but he wants this to last, so he takes his time kissing Tamamori, lets the way they rock against each other grow gradually until he can’t ignore it anymore.

When Tamamori shoves at his shoulders, Goseki pushes back up onto his hands and digs his knees in for leverage. His next thrust makes Tamamori plead for more again, the one after that drives all the air out of Tamamori’s lungs in a long moan. The beauty of it drags along Goseki’s nerves, and he does it again and again until he can’t think of anything besides the squeeze of Tamamori around him.

“Yuuta,” he says when he doesn’t think he can control himself any longer. It takes a second to get Tamamori’s attention, but finally Tamamori looks up to gaze at him with lust-glazed eyes. “Yuuta, touch yourself.”

It doesn’t take more than a dozen strokes for Tamamori to bring himself off, giving a broken wail as he comes, and the rush of heat against his stomach and the clench of Tamamori’s body around him brings Goseki along with him. Goseki spends himself hard enough that his vision goes dark for a few seconds, and his elbows give out.

When he comes to, he’s sprawled across Tamamori’s chest, ear pressed against the pounding of Tamamori’s heart.

“I’m not moving, ever,” Tamamori comments, lazy and sated, and Goseki lets his eyes fall shut again. He thinks about telling Tamamori that he can spend the night, but figures that Tamamori will figure it out after a while.

They go a second time after a little while, and a third time close to dawn. The third time lasts the longest because they’re tired and they’ve come too many times, but that’s the one that Goseki will remember most clearly later, Tamamori on his elbows and knees, saying Goseki’s name over and over as Goseki presses open-mouthed kisses along Tamamori’s spine. The room’s getting light by the time they pass out, limbs tangled together and skin sticky.

In the morning, Goseki tells Tamamori that they shouldn’t do this anymore once they’re back in Tokyo. He tries to explain, not that Tamamori wants to hear it, that it’s a terrible idea, that they aren’t even in the same unit and they shouldn’t be doing it in the first place. Tamamori doesn’t try to argue with him; instead he just stares at Goseki, his eyes dark with hurt, until Goseki runs out of words.

It’s not a pleasant trip back to Tokyo.

*****

As busy as both of their groups are, you’d think it would be easy to avoid each other. But then again, Kis-My-Ft2 and A.B.C. work together quite a bit these days, and as the summer picks up, it seems like Tamamori is everywhere that Goseki turns.

Or maybe it’s more that Tamamori isn’t trying to avoid Goseki quite as much as Goseki is trying to avoid him.

“Oops,” Tamamori says casually when Goseki stumbles over him and a rumpled Senga around a corner from the practice room, but Tamamori’s eyes are sharp when Goseki rolls his eyes and goes back the way he came.

It’s Tamamori and Miyata in the showers the next week, and Tamamori, Nikaido, and Yokoo in the locker room a few days after that.

“Oh, come on!” Goseki snaps when he opens the door to his own unit’s dressing room and finds Tamamori and Kitayama tangled on the couch.

“Maybe you should learn to knock?” Kitayama says. Tamamori doesn’t say anything, just watches Goseki over Kitayama’s shoulder.

“Knock?” Goseki demands, too incensed to even know where to start. “This is MY dressing room! Why don’t you do this in your own dressing room!”

“We would,” Tamamori finally speaks up, “if your unit weren’t constantly in it. Doesn’t seem to bother them to mix with other units, even if you seem to think it’s such a terrible idea.”

Tamamori’s words hit Goseki like a slap across the face, the same words Goseki had used in Osaka, and Goseki turns and shuts the door behind him without another word. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the way Tamamori’s eyes looked out of his head. They looked hard, and not at all like the Tama-chan Goseki is so familiar with.

Goseki goes out into the hall, finds a vending machine, and kicks it until his foot aches and it spits a can of Fanta at him in surrender. He doesn’t go back to either dressing room for as long as he can manage it. He doesn’t want to be part of anybody’s unit just then.

*****

It takes Fujigaya a while to figure out the story, apparently, since he doesn’t confront Goseki until they are a bunch of shows into the KAT-TUN concert series, summer starting to wane and hitting its most unbearable stretch all at the same time.

“What did you do?” Fujigaya wants to know when he finds Goseki. Goseki is sitting in one of the boats that KAT-TUN rides around in, and Fujigaya clambers up into it to sit beside Goseki.

“Nothing,” Goseki says mechanically. It’s what he’s been saying to everyone else for weeks, Kawai and Tsukada and Totsuka and Nakamaru and Yara and anybody else who notices that Goseki’s alive.

“Don’t nothing me,” Fujigaya accuses, shoving Goseki’s shoulder with his own. “Every since Dream Boys, you’ve been a mess. And Tamamori’s fucked his way back and forth across Kisumai half a dozen times. I think he’s mentoring that cute little bunch that tags along with Hashimoto! Not that they need any help. What the hell did you do in Osaka?”

“I might have screwed around with Tama-chan a little.” Goseki gives a mirthless laugh. “Or a lot.”

“Geez,” Fujigaya blows his bangs out of his face, “you moron. If I’d have been there…”

“Well, you weren’t there!” Goseki explodes, making Fujigaya jump. “You weren’t there and Fumito wasn’t there and Tottsu wasn’t there, because you were too busy being the favorites like always! Everybody else always goes and I always stay, and yeah, okay, I screwed around with Tamamori, because for ten seconds somebody wanted me and nobody else! So you can fuck right off, Taisuke!”

Goseki runs out of breath and falls silent, chest heaving and afraid to look at Fujigaya’s face.

“Aw, Gocchi,” Fujigaya finally says, wrapping an arm around Goseki’s shoulders, and Goseki collapses against Fujigaya’s shoulder, too tired to fight back the loneliness of the last couple weeks any longer.

And if he cries a little, there’s nobody else on the fake pirate ship to see it.

“What took you so long?” Goseki finally asks.

“Tcht, Tsuka wouldn’t tell on you,” Fujigaya answers with mock annoyance, and Goseki’s chest loosens a little at Tsukada’s loyalty. “So,” Fujigaya continues after a little while, “what’d you break Tama-chan’s heart for, then?”

“Don’t be childish,” Goseki scolds, pretending his voice isn’t thick. “It isn’t like it’s a good idea. We aren’t even in the same unit, it’s stupid.”

“Eh? You haven’t heard?” Fujigaya sits up to grin at Goseki, grinning harder when Goseki only scowls. “Tottsu’s making an announcement at today’s show. We’re gonna have concerts in the fall!”

“We?” Goseki asks hollowly. Whenever there’s a ‘we’ doing something special, Goseki usually ends up being a ‘them.’

“All of us,” Fujigaya assures, squeezing Goseki’s shoulder. “We’re doing them together.” He winks. “As a unit.”

“I…” Goseki blinks. “What?”

“Idiot,” Fujigaya says affectionately, “we’re Ebikisu now. So fix it; I don’t want any broken hearts in my unit.”

It isn’t that easy, he wants to argue, only Fujigaya is hugging him too tight for him to get any air to say the words, and maybe he’s hugging Fujigaya back just as tightly.

But at the end of that day’s show, when Totsuka reads the announcement and everybody is staring at each other with stunned expressions, Goseki happens to catch Tamamori’s eye. For a second they just stare, and then Goseki offers Tamamori a smile, hoping it can be exactly that easy.

Tamamori’s mouth tightens, and he turns away to escape as soon as their bows are done. Goseki doesn’t let him, though, fighting the flow of people off-stage to catch up with him. He grabs at Tamamori’s sleeve when he’s near enough, keeping him from slipping away.

Stepping to the side, out of the crowd, Tamamori stops and sighs. “What?” he asks, looking at the floor.

“It’s good news, right?” Goseki tries as an opener. “The concerts?”

“Are you kidding me?” Tamamori lifts his eyes to glare at Goseki. “They name-smash us and now it’s okay?”

“That isn’t what I meant, Tama-chan,” Goseki says, but Tamamori jerks his arm free of Goseki’s grip at the nickname.

“Don’t talk to me like I’m your stupid, cute kouhai,” Tamamori snaps with venom. “You don’t give a damn whether I’m in your unit or not, so why don’t you just tell me what it is that you find so objectionable about me already?”

“Nothing,” Goseki answers honestly, and then when Tamamori’s expression darkens even further, adds, “It wasn’t like that.”

“Because you know,” Tamamori seems quite willing to carry on whether or not Goseki says anything or not, “I know I’m too tall and too weird and talk to my food and have an image gap wider than the Mariana Trench, but nobody in my unit seems to care about that! They like me just fine!”

“I’ve seen that,” Goseki says, trying to keep the venom out of his own voice, but he doesn’t feel that he’s terribly successful at it. “But that’s because you wanted me to see, right? Wanted me to be jealous, yeah?”

“Not everything’s about you,” Tamamori hisses, cheeks turning bright pink.

“Tama-chan?” Miyata interrupts, appearing next to them suddenly and looking from Tamamori’s face to Goseki’s and back again. “Is everything o—”

“They’re fine~!” Fujigaya announces, throwing an around Miyata’s shoulders and dragging him along in his wake. He throws a wink over his shoulder at Goseki, and Goseki struggles not to just bury his face in his hands.

Instead he takes a deep breath and tries again.

“When I met you,” he says, trying to catch Tamamori’s eye while Tamamori glares at the floor, “you were fourteen and I was nineteen. That’s a hell of a gap, Tama-chan.”

“Well, now I’m nineteen and you’re twenty-four,” Tamamori retorts. “And it doesn’t seem like so much to me.”

“Let me finish,” Goseki scolds, and Tamamori huffs a sigh. “I’m your senpai, Tama-chan, and you’re a little KY so I’ll explain: that means I’m supposed to protect you, not take advantage of you. It means that part of me will always see you as a fourteen-year-old who can’t skate and gets bullied by Nikaido.”

“You didn’t take advantage of me,” Tamamori interrupts, but some of the anger seems to have drained out of him, leaving Tamamori looking vaguely forlorn. “I decided myself. I can skate and dance and sing, and when Nika punches me I punch back. I grew up, Goseki-kun.”

“I know.” Goseki offers Tamamori the same small smile as before. “I saw that too. So, this is a bit sudden, and we aren’t in the same unit and you’re weird and it’s a terrible idea, but,” Goseki takes a deep breath, “I like you. Please accept my feelings.”

At first, Tamamori just stares at him, and Goseki’s heart sinks like a rock, but then Tamamori throws his arms around Goseki and hugs him so tightly that it drives the breath Goseki’s been holding out of his lungs in a whoosh. He doesn’t need air anyway, Goseki decides as he squeezes Tamamori back.

“I should tell you no,” Tamamori hisses into Goseki’s ear, voice cracking. “I should tell you I need some time to think and then come back and tell you you’re too old for me and a jerk and break your heart right back.”

“I know,” Goseki answers, holding Tamamori even tighter, and a second later Goseki starts to laugh.

“What’s funny?” Tamamori demands, wary.

“I want to take you home with me,” Goseki snickers harder, “but I still live with my parents.”

Tamamori doesn’t see the humor in it, but he will, Goseki figures. When he’s older.

Epilogue

Everyone who’s legal goes out to celebrate the night of the first Ebikisu concert, but Goseki’s looking forward more to the night after the second one, because Tamamori promised him a surprise.

“Come on, hurry up!” Tamamori demands while Goseki changes, bouncing a little.

“What are you, five? Go fix your hair,” Goseki teases, making Tamamori put hands up to his head to check his bangs. “You’re a hundred years too young to rush me.”

Eventually they do get moving, calling out their good-byes as they make their exit from the bus drop-off point. Goseki ignores the leer and the thumbs-up Fujigaya and Kawai are shooting them, but he does grin at Kitayama’s scowl.

“Are you sure I can’t fool around with them even a little?” Tamamori is asking as they head down the sidewalk, Tamamori in the lead since it’s his surprise. “Cause Nika has this new navel piercing and…”

“No,” Goseki answers, eyes narrowing.

“You can even join in,” Tamamori coaxes, then dissolves into snickers when Goseki gives a low growl.

The love hotel isn’t a shocking surprise, all in all, but Tamamori does make a big show of paying for it himself, dropping his money into the machine with a flourish.

“Like a grown-up,” he says, and Goseki pats his arm and says maybe next time if he saves up his allowance for a few more weeks, they can try the jungle-themed room.

It’s all joking aside once they are inside the room, stripping off each other’s clothes and kicking them out of the way. Goseki lets Tamamori pull him down on the bed and pull him on top so that his weight is pressing Tamamori down into the blankets.

“This is a pretty good surprise,” Goseki murmurs, brushing his lips over Tamamori’s jaw. “If not terribly surprising.”

Tamamori ignores the insult. “We could have been doing this the whole time if somebody wasn’t such a great big girl about stupid things like units and ages.”

“We’ll see who the girl is when I fuck you into next week,” Goseki retorts, voice rough, and he grins when Tamamori shivers underneath him.

“Please take care of me, senpai.” Tamamori’s face is innocent, but his eyes are dark and amused, and Goseki crushes their mouths together to stop that line of thought exactly where it is. The last thing he needs is for Tamamori to turn phrases like that into a kink.

It’s already too late anyway, he thinks to himself with resignation when Tamamori murmurs that maybe he should start bringing some of his old school ties.

“Switch with me,” Tamamori coaxes. Goseki is puzzled for a few seconds before Tamamori rolls them over and demonstrates that he means he doesn’t want to top, he just wants to be on top.

“I can never tell with you,” Goseki scoffs, when Tamamori insists that’s what he said. “You learned all sorts of weird habits from that unit of yours.”

“You seem to like this one enough,” Tamamori says as he sits up on his knees, “and anyway, we’re in the same unit now.”

He slides the first finger into himself, and Goseki’s voice catches so that he can’t argue any further. He settles for holding on to Tamamori’s hips to keep him steady, until Tamamori complains that he can’t reach right and asks for help. Goseki is more than happy to comply, and Tamamori busies himself rolling a condom onto Goseki and stroking him with his lube-slick hand until Goseki tells him to knock it off if he really does want to get fucked at all, much less into next week.

“Koichi,” Tamamori gasps when he sinks down onto Goseki’s cock, and Goseki murmurs Tamamori’s name back. He struggles to keep his eyes open, even though it’s already almost too good, because it’s worth it to see Tamamori bite down on his lower lip and lean forward to get the angle right.

Goseki lets him get situated before rocking up into him, gently. Too gently, Tamamori’s eye roll says, but he shifts his knees so that he can fix it himself, bracing himself on his hands above Goseki. His own hands free, Goseki lets them wander over Tamamori’s face and shoulders, stroking thumbs along Tamamori’s throat and tweaking his nipples to jar his rhythm.

“Hey,” Tamamori asks, “why am I doing all the work here?”

“Hm, I must have taught you right.” Tamamori leans down to crush his mouth over Goseki’s smirk, and Goseki lifts a hand to tangle fingers in Tamamori’s hair.

When Tamamori is good and distracted, Goseki rolls them over. He slips out of Tamamori on the way, but it’s all right because he can hitch Tamamori’s hips up and watch his face as he pushes back in. The height difference makes kissing awkward this way, so Tamamori just curls his legs around Goseki’s waist and reclines against the pillows, stretching out luxuriously with his eyes slit open only far enough to make sure that Goseki is watching.

Goseki drives the lazy smirk off Tamamori’s face with the first thrust, and Tamamori laughs before fisting his hands in the blankets to get a good grip and shoving back against Goseki.

They never last long once they get serious, and this time is no exception. Tamamori wraps a hand around himself and strokes in time with Goseki’s thrusts, and Goseki feels him start to let go before Tamamori opens his mouth to warn him.

“Come for me,” Goseki orders, voice shaking, and Tamamori does, back arched and chest flushed, way too beautiful for Goseki to keep from coming himself a few seconds later.

Goseki pulls out and collapses against Tamamori’s side, still trembling and limbs feeling like dead weight, barely managing to fumble the condom off and out of the way. Tamamori runs fingers through the mess on his stomach and then brings them to his mouth, watching Goseki’s face the whole time; Goseki groans and buries his face against Tamamori’s shoulder because he can’t in any way contemplate more sex yet.

“So,” Tamamori says a little while later, “about Nika…”

“Oi!” Goseki leans up on one elbow to give Tamamori a sharp look. “I hear you fucked your way back and forth across your unit half a dozen times. Aren’t you bored with them yet?”

“Well,” Tamamori blinks up at Goseki innocently, although his fingertips are already drawing circles on Goseki’s side, “there’s a lot more people in our unit now. I haven’t had all of them…we’re all in the same unit so it should be fine, right, Goseki-kun? Ne, how about I’ll teach you about my half if you teach me about yours?”

“Like you know anything about them that I don’t, brat,” Goseki growls, then lets his weight fall back on Tamamori, crushing him back into the blankets, and sets about making sure that Tamamori can’t think about anyone but him.