Mousapelli’s Fanfiction » Kis-My-Ft2, Travel Delayed

Kis-My-Ft2, Travel Delayed

Title: Travel Delayed
Rating/Warnings: PG
Summary: The airport is one of Tamamori’s least favorite places in the entire world.
AN: I failed at fic for Miyata’s birthday, so I Shiritori’d for him instead. I’ll finish soon, I promise, Miyacchi!

Travel Delayed

The airport is one of Tamamori’s least favorite places in the entire world. It’s like everything he hates about travel combined with everything he hates about deadlines and paparazzi and his groupmates and his managers, all compressed into the smallest place possible. When the plane touches down and both of Tamamori’s ears immediately close up so that he can’t even hear properly, the only thing that keeps him from crying is the knowledge that a paparazzi picture of that would sell out faster than the one from last time where his shirt got tangled in his bag strap and he pulled the whole thing nearly the entire way off before he realized.

Miyata is saying something to him.

“WHAT?” Tamamori demands. His ears hurt and he can’t even hear Nikaido, so he’s afraid something is wrong enough he might have to go get medical attention and he doesn’t have any time for that for at least a week.

At least Miyata seems to realize the problem right away. He points to his own ear and tilts his head in question. Tamamori shakes his head and makes his eyes as miserable as he feels. Miyata turns to say something to Kitayama, who is standing up in the aisle with his manager. He reaches for Tamamori’s hand without turning away from his conversation, and squeezes it. When he looks back, he mouths with some exaggeration something Tamamori recognizes without sound.

I’m coming home with you.

They make it through the airport with a minimum of fuss, Tamamori’s earbuds firmly in so it won’t seem strange that he can barely make out what anybody says. Miyata directs Tamamori the most, but the others help out too. Yokoo hands him some medicine and a bottle of water as soon as he gets his bag down from the bin, Senga finds some promotional KissMint gum that’s only a little squished from his pocket, and Fujigaya lends him his hat to pull down low over his eyes. When they have a second to stand side-by-side, Nikaido reaches over and puts the heels of his hands against the hinge of Tamamori’s jaw on either side and then presses in. It hurts like crazy for a second, but when Tamamori opens his mouth to protest, suddenly the pressure behind his face eases a little.

Nikaido grins in understanding as he drops his hands; he’s like the king of sinus pressure after all. Miyata taps Nikaido’s shoulder, and Nikaido does it to him to show him for later.

By the time the van drops them off in front of Tamamori’s apartment complex, Tamamori feels a little better and can even hear out of one side, sort of. Enough that Miyata doesn’t have to shout loud enough to wake the neighbors to ask if Tamamori has any food inside or wants to get some before they go in. Tamamori just shakes his head; all he wants is to go to bed.

Inside, Miyata bullies him into taking a hot shower before he crashes, and the steam helps a little more with his head. Miyata is already in bed when he gets out, checking mails on his phone, and Tamamori crawls in beside him without even bothering with pajamas, leaving his towel in a heap on the floor. He’s lying on the side with the good ear, so he can’t hear exactly what Miyata is saying to him, only that he’s saying something. Tamamori doesn’t care anyway, Miyata’s voice low and soothing.

Miyata reaches to turn the light out, then gathers Tamamori in closer, reaching up to stroke his hair, and Tamamori heaves a sigh and melts against him. Miyata’s heartbeat is thumping against his ear, and that’s soothing too, familiar. Miyata still seems to be talking, but Tamamori doesn’t bother about it, or to ask if Miyata’s set an alarm or any of that junk. He knows Miyata will take care of him. He drifts off before Miyata has talked himself out.

Tamamori wakes up a few hours later from a nightmare where he’d been running through an airport terminal that never seemed to end, hearing his name called over the PA system, convinced he was going to miss his plane and be trapped in Korea. He sits bolt upright, heart pounding, then flops back down when he realizes it’s still the middle of the night and pitch black outside.

“You okay?” Miyata asks, voice thick with sleep.

“Yeah,” Tamamori grunts, burrowing deeper under the blankets and hating his stupid brain. “Nightmare.”

“Aw, that’s–hey, you can hear me?” It’s too dark for Tamamori to see Miyata, but he feels Miyata’s fingers brush his cheek and work back towards his ear.

“Guess so.” Tamamori swallows hard, and his ears still crackle, but they don’t hurt like before. “It’s better.” Hoping he can sleep the rest of it off, Tamamori rolls over. He doesn’t even have to ask for Miyata to slide closer and spoon against his back, and Tamamori sighs at how warm Miyata is against him, relaxing his tensed muscles. “You left me in Korea,” he accuses, pieces of the dream coming back. “I missed the plane.”

Miyata chuckles against the back of his neck. “That was your nightmare? You’d have to join SME and learn to dance, how awful.”

“Shut up, I hate you,” Tamamori grumbles. It only makes Miyata go on laughing. “Fuck you, go back to sleep.”

“I’d never leave you in Korea,” Miyata promises, squeezing Tamamori a little tighter in a one-armed hug. “And I love you, too.”

Tamamori grumbles a “Hmph,” but lets the steady warmth of Miyata’s breath over his bare shoulder lull him back to sleep. Maybe he’ll even forgive Miyata for marooning him in a foreign country if he goes out to get breakfast in the morning and feeds him in bed.