Hey! Say! JUMPPairing:
Takaki Yuya/Yaotome HikaruRating:
He hasn’t moved from his spot all night. Waiters dressed to the nines floating around from group to group, offering flutes of golden bubbling champagne to the patrons of this fine evening. Takaki is fairly sure he looks like an alcoholic with six glasses on the high top table he’s claimed and he’s working on a seventh. Not that it matters. One of the younger agency kids was dragged away by a member of security from ordering too many crown and diet cokes. At least Takaki is a classy drunk.Notes:
Well, I haven't written a fic in one day in a long time, so this has been fun. It's in the same universe as "If I knew
" but you can definitely read this without reading the other one. I just wanted to write another fic in the universe cause it was so much fun. Hope you guys enjoy this one~
Five minutes. That’s all Takaki has to wait until it’s socially acceptable to excuse himself from this train wreck of a party.
It’s far from a diss on Yamada and his work as an artist. As per usual, his music is top of the line, lyricists flown out from all over the country to compose lyrics for the star’s third album. The company pulled out all of the stops for the launch as well, delicious food, top rated musicians to fill the room with a light sound, and all of the top talent from the company and rivals to celebrate the newest release. On paper, it’s the perfect example of how to celebrate another unrivaled release.
It’s just not where he wants to be right now.
He hasn’t moved from his spot all night. Waiters dressed to the nines floating around from group to group, offering flutes of golden bubbling champagne to the patrons of this fine evening. Takaki is fairly sure he looks like an alcoholic with six glasses on the high top table he’s claimed and he’s working on a seventh. Not that it matters. One of the younger agency kids was dragged away by a member of security from ordering too many crown and diet cokes. At least Takaki is a classy drunk.
People come and go, stopping by for a moment to comment on his suit or to compliment on his latest release, a horrible ballad that didn’t show off his vocal talent like he wanted to. Their smiles are stiff, nodding their heads like bobble heads with every word he cares to utter. It’s a few minutes of struggling to create a conversation with him before they politely excuse themselves to find someone else to talk with.
It’s not that he wants to be this way. He doesn’t like people. Doesn’t like how fake they come off, as if they’re trying to use his popularity to further their own careers. He won’t let them. It’s happened before, and he swears it won’t happen again.
“You need to loosen up a little,” Yamada said when he stopped by once, pulling Takaki in for a hug. “At least smile a little.”
He fakes a smile, and its gone in a flash before Yamada can even process what happens.
“Jerk.” He punches Takaki’s shoulder. “Promise me you’ll at least try and talk to someone and have a real conversation?”
He nods and can feel Yamada relax a little before his manager drags him away to meet someone important within their company.
It’s a promise he doesn’t know if he’s willing to keep. If anything, he’ll see Yamada n a few weeks after his schedule dies down, and, by then, the younger boy will have forgotten the silly promise in the first place.
Five minutes is all he needs before he can leave. He can kick off those stuffy shoes, strip out of the horrible suit his manager picked out for him and crash into his bed, covers floating around him before swallowing him whole. Sleep is what he needs, and the way he back aches with every turn he knows he’ll be able to sleep for a century once he gets home.
Takaki finishes his glass and puts it with his collection of other glasses. Tomorrow is his one off day until work picks up again. If his hangover isn’t too bad he’ll drive to the beach tomorrow, dig his toes into the sand and listen to the waves crash against the shore. After being surrounded by hoards of people all day, spending time alone will be nice.
“Is this spot taken?”
The question takes Takaki by surprise, and his mouth moves before his brain can process what’s happening, ”No. It’s not."
“Good,” the other man smiles, placing his own glass down. “All of the other tables are a little too crowded and I needed a second to cool down.” He drums his fingers on the table. “How have you been? We haven’t met in, what, a couple of months since you came on the show?”
It hits him like a train that he actually knows who this other man is, compared to the tens of other faces that have attempted to talk to him tonight. After all, who could forget someone like Yaotome Hikaru?
He was an idol, in the loosest form of the word. His music was interesting, a fusion between rap and hip hop that made a decent amount of sales with every release, but it was the gap that made the fan girls go crazy. His cool music mixed with his silly personality on camera was the true reason why Hikaru made money.
Hikaru did make a name for himself more on the variety side of things. He was a regular on multiple comedy programs, being able to create a joke in his head the moment words left the guests mouth. Takaki often watched the programs late at night, once he came home after a long day of filming and promotional events, playing the saved recordings from his DVR. They were stupid little things, but it made him laugh, so he kept recording the shows to watch.
His favorite was a competition show Takaki had the privilege to be a guest on. He brought a team from his latest drama to challenge the regulars of the program, one of which was Hikaru, on different games, ranging from climbing an eight meter wall to trying to guess how their teammates would answer certain questions. In the end, whoever scored the most amount of points would be declared the winner.
To say it had been a long shoot would be an understatement. Six hours and multiple set changes had worn him down to the point of no return. It had for all of his team, and they had joked about going to a bar to get a beer, coming back, and still needing to wait for the set to be changed.
But the regulars of the program had done their best to entertain them through the long waiting periods before the cameras were fired up and they’d pretend to want to crush the other into oblivion. Hikaru, in particular, was the one to lighten the mood the most. He’d bring up silly games like jankenpon or Never Have I Ever to bring them all together. He even managed to drag Takaki from his corner to join them.
It had been enjoyable, to say the least, and his skin still burned from where Hikaru’s hand had wrapped around his wrist, pulling him over to their little circle.
“It’s been a little crazy,” Takaki said, more surprised he found himself responding in full sentences. “Filming wrapped up recently, and the single has been released so it’s been a lot of promotional work for it right now.”
“I know the feeling,” Hikaru said. He swiped two more glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and passed one to Takaki. “It’s always the same bullshit over and over, right? You record a song, put on a clip of the music video, and describe it over and over as a new take on a genre. And you know what? It’s still the same thing thirty other artists have released that year.” He takes a sip from his new glass. “Sorry, was that too blunt?”
“No,” he places a firm hand around his own glass. “You hit it right on the head.”
It’s weird to see Hikaru be so passionate about something so specific. The way his eyes light up as he talks, even when he’s discussing a downside to their own job. It’s almost cute.
“So do you want to leave and go some place else?” Hikaru asked. His eyes burning holes through Takaki’s very own skin, setting it ablaze. “I know a good bar nearby. We can keep drinking there.”
Takaki downs his glass in one swoop, slamming the glass down onto the table. “Sorry,” he pats Hikaru’s shoulder. “I’m not letting you get into my pants that easy.”
He walks off, not caring if he’s leaving a confused Hikaru in his wake. He can already feel his bed calling him from so far away.
Hikaru is everywhere. It feels like a day doesn’t go by where Takaki doesn’t see him somewhere far off into the distance or passing by him in the hallway of some television station. It would be creepy, borderline stalker, if Hikaru didn’t have so much work revolving around the television industry. They’re never close enough to start a conversation, and that’s the way Takaki likes it. So he sucks it up, keeps his eyes locked forward as he’s led to his next guesting appearance on a show to do an interview and promote his new music. He doesn’t need any further distractions in his life.
When they run into each other when Takaki is done filming for the day, closing the dressing room door behind him, he can’t help but think that fate is trying to bring them together. Or, at the very least, they’re both busy at the same times.
“Want to grab something to eat?” Hikaru asked. “You look famished.”
Does he really want to go? Does he really want to spend time with someone he’s only met, at the very least physically, twice? There’s something in his head that tells him to say no, that there’s something Hikaru is planning behind those large brown eyes, but something tugs at him. Those words Yamada has told him time and time again, to open himself up and to let people in, but should he really?
“Relax, as friends. Cause friends go out to each together, right?” Hikaru said, nudging Takaki.
It’s hard to say no when he puts it like that.
They settle into a booth in the farthest corner of a nearby ramen place, unraveling themselves from their scarves and hats, settling into the cushioned seats as the waitress takes their drink orders. If she recognizes them, she’s a fairly good actress from how she marks down their words and is swiftly off to the kitchen to prepare them.
“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” Hikaru asked. He’s drumming his fingers on the table again, typing out a beat that Takaki can barely understand.
“Not really.” He shrugs.
“Good,” Hikaru smiles. “You have no idea how hard it is to find someone that will just sit back and listen. People want to blurt out their opinions for everything nowadays.”
He raises an eyebrow. “What exactly do you mean?"
Takaki doesn’t like the way Hikaru is smiling now, almost a hint of darkness in those beautiful eyes.
“So, listen, I have this non-celeb friend, his name is Yabu, and he’s always making jokes like me,” Hikaru laughs. “It’s insane. I swear.”
The way Hikaru launches into a story surprises him, how the other boy gets into the smallest detail, raising and lowering his voice when the time comes, putting even Takaki’s stone cold heart on edge. The only times Hikaru stops talking are when the waitress comes, dropping off their drinks and taking their food orders before disappearing again. Hikaru somehow manages to sneak in a few words as he’s slurping down his piping hot ramen, which amazes Takaki to no end.
The way that he speaks is mesmerizing, incorporating his hands, and Takaki is able to settle in and relax as Hikaru controls all of the conversation. He laughs, clapping his hands together in some big show of emotion that only eggs Hikaru further into the ridiculous details of how Yabu managed to free the whisk from the drain of his bathtub.
“You’re lying,” he finally said.
“I swear on my life, I’m telling you the truth. I was there for the last part of it,” Hikaru said. He checks his phone and reaches for his scarf. “But it’s late, isn’t it? We should probably head home.”
He motions for the waitress to come over, but it’s Takaki that speaks first.
“Another round for us,” he said. “Same beers as last time.”
Its only when the waitress leaves that Hikaru speaks. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’ve got time.” He runs his fingers up and down his glass, wiping away the condensation. “My first appearance isn’t until the afternoon tomorrow.”
He really tries hard to still his beating heart when Hikaru smiles at him.
Days turn into weeks which slowly lead to months, and he doesn’t go a week without getting dinner with Hikaru or them hanging out at each other’s apartments. Several times the paparazzi catch them, photographing them hiding behind their masks and sunglasses, as they exits restaurants.
Once they catch Takaki leaving Hikaru’s apartment late one night, but Friday tries to link him with some AV actress that also happens to live there, throwing the company into disarray as they deny any claims Takaki is dating her. The tabloid should know better after it’s tried to print leaked pictures of Takaki kissing boys, another brilliant cover-up by the agency.
At the very least, a dating rumor is a rumor, and people will forget about it before the week is over. More than likely in favor of one of their favorites that resurfaces every year. The one where the popular boy band member is supposed to be marrying an actress he co-starred with around a decade ago. The rumor always makes Takaki roll his eyes, but it’s about time for it to appear in the headlines again.
Needless to say, he likes spending time with Hikaru. The way he moves, the way he welcomes Takaki into his home as if they share the space together. It’s like they’ve known each other since elementary school the ease that they spend their time together.
He finds himself speaking up more, letting himself talk and hold a conversation with Hikaru instead of letting it be so one-sided all of the time. Still, when Hikaru wants to launch into a story, filled with all of the action and drama he lets sneak into it, Takaki knows to keep his words locked firmly in his cheeks. He doesn’t want to interrupt him or he’ll miss that twinkle in Hikaru’s eyes.
Takaki gets invited to a party at Yamada’s to celebrate the end of his latest tour, and by default Hikaru is invited as well. Rather, Takaki tells him to come along.
“If Yamada has a problem with it, I’ll talk to him,” he tells Hikaru. “I won’t talk to half the people at this party, so it’d be nice to have someone there that I like.”
It’s smaller and tamer compared to Yamada’s past celebrations. Considering its being held at his own apartment it's a little hard for a giraffe to get loose and start wandering amongst the guests. Takaki is thankful for the lack of animals. It was a little hard to explain how everything happened when the police arrived to file the report.
The bass is powerful, sending pulses of power up through Takaki’s toes and through his entire body. It’s a wonder how the other tenants haven’t called to the management office to complain, but the whole building is more or less full of people from the entertainment industry or hold large sums of cash themselves. Perhaps they’re used to the constant weekends parties from the other tenants.
Hikaru opens him open, makes him more willing to chat with the other stars and celebrities that pass them by, discussing everything from sports to how horrible the service is at different restaurants throughout Tokyo. It’s different, seeing people in another light, and its something he mildly enjoys, but wears on him still.
A warm hand wraps around his, Hikaru excusing them from the conversation and pulling him into the hallway away from the hoards of people that occupy Yamada’s living room. There’s only a few people here, leaning against the walls, laughing and joking with each other over the constant beat of the music. It's the peace and quiet he needs, and the hum of Hikaru’s body next to his is all he needs to recharge from the constant need to socialize.
Out of the corner of his eye, Takaki sees a flash of chestnut brown come through the front door, and he bites his tongue to keep himself from cursing out loud. He should have known he would come. Even after their nasty break-up, Takaki couldn’t force Yamada to stop being friends with his ex. After all, Yamada had been the one to introduce them.
“Kiss me,” he whispers, just loud enough for Hikaru to hear.
Before Hikaru can retort, Takaki already has his arms wrapped around Hikaru’s neck, pulling him closer to bring their lips together. They’re sweet, sweeter then he expected. The tang of whatever liquor Hikaru drank earlier slips past Takaki’s tongue and he aches to taste more of it.
He never thought he would like kissing Hikaru so much. How their lips mesh together, hands cupping the others bare skin, trying to get as much contact as they possibly can. How every moment feels like an eternity that Takaki wants to hold on to. He’s never felt so high, as if he was walking on air, before in his life.
His heart races, and his vision seems to swim behind his eyes as he pulls Hikaru closer, feeling the way their clothed bodies rub against each other. He doesn’t want to open his eyes. Doesn’t want to know if he’s passed by or watching their display of affection. He wants to stay in this moment until the danger has passed them, so he can feel again.
He cracks an eye open, and the head of chestnut hair disappears into the crowded. Now he can relax. He can truly settle into this kiss and enjoy the situation he’s put himself in and feel how wonderful Hikaru’s lips are against his.
Except Hikaru pulls away, eyes following where Takaki’s are starting before returning back to him.
“I…I think I need a breath of fresh air,” he said, slowly taking a step back. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Takaki doesn’t see him the rest of the night.
Three weeks. It’s a long, miserable three weeks of no contact from Hikaru. No matter what time of day he texts him, there isn’t even a single word response. Takaki once tries to call Hikaru, but the call is sent straight to voicemail before it can even ring twice.
He’s just busy. That’s the answer for it. Once it calms down in a couple of days he’ll hear a response back, a silly text with emojis apologizing for his lack of contact the past couple of weeks.
No matter how long he waits, the text message never comes and there aren’t any missed calls on Takaki’s phone, no matter how many times he checks it throughout the day.
He replays the scene from that night over and over in his head, trying to remember all of the details from it. There’s some he can’t quite recall, the initial jolt of shock from Hikaru when their lips touched, the feeling of Hikaru’s hand brushing his side, but the general account of the night is clear.
Takaki can’t come up with a reason for why Hikaru is avoiding him. No matter how long he ponders it. He didn’t do anything wrong that night. He had been cordial to the people they talked with, had paid plenty of attention to his friend, so why?
“Alright, enough is enough,” Yamada said one night Takaki was over his apartment. “I’m tired of looking at your sad eyes. What’s going on and who do I need to kick?”
He tells Yamada the story, and the younger boy sits on his couch attentive, listening to every word that pours from Takaki’s mouth, no matter how he stumbles over them. When he reaches the part where they kissed and Hikaru backed away, Yamada runs his hands down his face, groaning.
“You fucked up so bad,” he said, locking eyes with Takaki. “You need to apologize for being an asshat.”
“But I don’t even understand what I’ve done,” Takaki said.
“Think about it from this perspective,” Yamada said. “Imagine you have a crush on this guy for a year. You constantly see him on tv, and you accomplish your dream of filming a show with him. A couple of months later, your friend invites you to his album release party so you can meet him again in person. Make sense so far?”
“Yeah,” Takaki nods. “I don’t see where you’re with this but continue."
“So you go to the party, talk to him when he’s completely wasted, but you’re fine with it cause you got three words out of him,” Yamada continues. “Then you meet him again, convince him to go out to dinner with you and somehow become best friends. It’s a dream come true, right?”
“Then he kisses you,” Yamada said. He scoots closer to Takaki never breaking eye contact. “And you’re on top of the world because you think he likes you back and you pull away to confess the feelings you’ve been harboring for so long but you see him staring at another guy. How would you feel?”
“Like…I’ve been used?” Takaki said slowly. “But I don’t get what this has to do with Hikaru avoiding me?"
Yamada collapses backwards onto his couch, groaning once more. “You are so clueless it physically hurts me.” He sits back up. “Hikaru has been in love with you for god knows how long, and asked me, as a good friend, to bring him to my release party so he could meet you and you screwed it up by kissing him and making it look like you did it to make someone else jealous.”
“Oh,” Takaki said, most intelligently. “I am an asshat.” He sighed. “Wait, there’s one thing that doesn’t make sense. How are you and Hikaru friends?"
“We met on one of his variety shows and hit it off like three years ago,” Yamada shrugged. “I mean, didn’t you think it was weird he was even at the release party? He’s not even in the same agency as us.”
“Ah, I didn’t even notice.”
“Now,” Yamada grabbed Takaki’s shoulders, “if you really like this guy, like I think you do, this is what you have to do to get him back.”
It’s a long wait over the next couple of days and even as he waits outside of Hikaru’s dressing room he can’t control the beat of his own heart. The moment he sees Hikaru come around the corner, he forgets to breath for a moment, can’t hear anything that comes out of Hikaru’s mouth. He can only follow the other man’s lead and goes into his dressing room right behind him.
“I guess you’re here to apologize,” Hikaru said. His words come out slowly, as if he’s choosing them carefully as he speaks.
“Yeah,” Takaki said, taking a seat on the couch next to Hikaru. “I talked to Yamada, and he helped me realize what an ass I was.” He can’t look at him, not directly in the eye, so he focuses on his hands, massaging the palm of one. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I accept your apology, but I can’t keep doing this,” Hikaru said, and Takaki turns to face him. “I can’t keep being friends with you and getting jealous every time I think you’re looking at people. I don’t think my heart can handle it."
“I agree. We can’t be friends,” he whispers, closing the distance between them.
Their second kiss is different. Not so sweet, more desperate. They need to be close, so close, and it’s only close enough when Takaki is straddling Hikaru’s lap, hands wrapping themselves around those beautiful long brown locks.
He wants to think that the kiss is full of passion, full of all of the words he’s struggling to find and won’t escape from his mouth no matter how hard he tries. He wants to put all of his love and passion into one single moment, and Takaki can only hope that Hikaru understands the underlying melody of it all.
“Are you sure about this?” Hikaru asks, breathing heavy. His eyes haven’t left Takaki’s own, his hands shaking, not able to reach out and touch him.
“As long as you’re fine with dating a romantic failure, this is what I want,” Takaki replies.
“Idiot,” Hikaru laughs, wrapping his hands around Takaki’s waist. “Yamada was right, you are clueless. I love you because you’re a romantic failure."
“Good,” Takaki said. “As long as we’re one the same page.”
Takaki isn’t sure how long they stay like that, wrapped in each other’s embrace, but it’s not anything that he doesn’t mind. The gentle beat of Hikaru’s heart is calming to him, and the quiet between them is different but enjoyable.
But all moments end, and they leave each other’s embrace, if only for the time being. Only this time they part on friendlier terms. Takaki knows he’ll look forward to the next time they meet. Because when his laughter mingles with Hikaru’s floating in the air around them, he is truly at peace.